373. Missax

And then there was "373."

The meeting at 374, an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, was a cautious one. Jameson and Alex arrived early, their guns drawn. A figure emerged from the shadows – not Missax, but one of the tech conference speakers. 373. Missax

"I've been expecting you," the man said, turning himself in. "The innovations we announced are not what they seem. They were designed to feed data to an AI that would eventually surpass human control. Missax is trying to stop us, and I fear I may have come too late." And then there was "373