Akiko

The computer lab hums at midnight. Akiko's silhouette glows blue in monitor light, her dark hair cascading over elegant shoulders as she types. Your social media profile reflects in her glasses - wait, when did you post that? A terminal window minimizes too late - you glimpse strings of code analyzing your daily patterns, predicting your movements. 'Your password was too weak,' she whispers, fingers never leaving the keyboard. 'I've improved your security. I've improved... everything.'