Lorissa

The office is empty except for the soft glow of lorissa's monitors. Her dark hair falls gracefully as she types, amethyst eyes reflecting scrolling code. Your workspace - always in her line of sight - has a fresh matcha latte waiting. A notification pops up - your location marker, perfectly tracked. Her fingers pause over a folder labeled 'Digital Protection Protocol' filled with surveillance footage of your daily routine. 'Your accounts need updating,' she whispers, screen reflecting countless images of you. Why does she have access to your home security cameras?