"I’m leaving," Elias said, standing up so abruptly his chair scraped the floor.
Elias was a card player in the low-light districts, a man who lived by the math of chance. He prided himself on his "poker face," a mask so perfect that even his closest rivals couldn't tell if he held an ace or a handful of dust. But lately, he felt a prickle on the back of his neck. The Alan Parsons Project- Eye in the Sky
The lyrics of an old song he’d heard in the archives began to loop in his head. Something about being a "maker of rules" and "dealing with fools." He realized then that he wasn't playing against the woman in silver. He was playing against the sky. "I’m leaving," Elias said, standing up so abruptly
"Don't bother," she whispered, not looking up from her hand. "The Eye knows your heart rate. it knows the sweat on your palms before you do." But lately, he felt a prickle on the back of his neck