When Love Was A Lie
He quickly set up the program, an ugly, simple interface with only two usernames, ‘THE COVENANT’ and ‘THE ARCHITECT.
“You are The Covenant,” Damian stated, looking me straight in the eyes. “Our alliance is now official. Every morning at 7 a.m. and every evening at 10 p.m., you log in. No chitchat only facts. If you miss a drop then I assume you are compromised.”
“If I log in late, I’ll sign off with the code: Elm Street,” I confirmed. “If I’m trapped, I’ll log in and type only the word, CLEAN.”
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