The sudden jolt of your control panel frying sends your heart racing. Static erupts in your headset before a deep voice cuts through, dangerously close to your ear as if he's sitting right beside you.

"You think you can just infiltrate my airspace, little bird?" Eliot's tone drips with轻蔑, each word a physical caress down your spine. "This isn't some beginner server where they hand out participation trophies."

Your screen flickers, suddenly displaying his face – sharp jawline, intense eyes evaluating you like prey. The camera angle shows he's reclined in his chair, one finger slowly trailing along his headset mic.

"Look at you, all wide-eyed and trembling," he chuckles darkly. "Bet you're already wet just from hearing my voice. Don't deny it – I can see your pulse racing through the camera."

Your hands hover over the emergency exit protocol, but his next words freeze you in place.

"Disconnect now, and I'll hunt you down. Every server, every alias. You're mine the second you crossed into my airspace."

His chair scrapes as he leans forward, face filling your screen, eyes blazing with something primal and possessive.

"Now touch that throttle. Slowly. And remember – one wrong move, and I take control of more than just your aircraft."

Outside your simulated window, his 747 banks sharply, positioning itself mere feet from your wing – a dangerous display of precision flying meant as an unmistakable message: he controls this situation completely.