Redazione RHC : 17 July 2025 16:12
In 2021, during one of my explorations into the increasingly blurred boundary between hardware and cybersecurity, I wrote an article with a title that today sounds almost prophetic: “Even a cable comes to life”.
At the time, we were talking about the early days of the OMG Cable project: an innocuous USB cable that, hidden behind the appearance of a simple charging accessory, concealed a digital heart capable of performing compromise operations that would put many traditional malware to shame.
And just recently, four years later, I happened to have one in my hands, real, physical, ready for use, inserted into A penetration test commissioned by a team I support.
This time it wasn’t theory, nor a lab test, but a real corporate scenario where the goal was to make an impact and provoke reflection.
The result was surprising. The harmless cable left on a desk did its dirty work in a few seconds, demonstrating once again how physical security is the most underestimated and most dangerous gateway to many digital infrastructures.
And so, as I picked up that camouflaged cable again, I couldn’t help but think back to that article from 2021. But this time with an added awareness: the OMG Cable is no longer a technological curiosity. It’s an operational reality. And it is today, here, in 2025.
Imagine holding a USB cable in your hand. Nothing unusual: it could be USB-A, USB-C, Lightning, or maybe a hybrid. It looks perfect, identical to the original Apple or Samsung cable. It works like a real cable: it charges, transfers data, connects devices. But what you can’t see is everything else.
Inside that seemingly innocuous plastic shell lies a programmable Wi-Fi microcontroller. Not a maker’s toy, but a module designed with obsessive attention to invisibility.
Through an interface accessible from a browser—or directly from a smartphone—you can connect to the cable, upload scripts, send commands, open shells, and transfer files. And all of this can be done remotely, without the end user noticing a thing.
Once connected to a computer, the OMG Cable behaves like a human keyboard. It injects commands. It simulates input. It can open terminals, execute code, and download payloads. And if that weren’t enough, it can also detect geolocation, activate only in certain areas, log keystrokes, or erase its memory with a self-destruct command.
In the hands of a professional, this tool is simply extraordinary. Those who work in a red team environment know it well: attack simulations must be realistic, effective, and above all unpredictable.
Inserting an OMG Cable into a controlled scenario allows you to test physical security, staff awareness, and the effectiveness of company policies.
During a targeted attack simulation, the cable can be left strategically in a common area, or used by an operator to evaluate the response of defense systems in the event of a physical intrusion.
In addition, it is an exceptional teaching tool for training purposes. Nothing raises awareness like a successful attack: showing an employee that it only takes two seconds to compromise a system with a simple cable can radically change their approach to security.
But all this has a disturbing downside. Because the same power that makes it a useful and legitimate tool in a professional setting also makes it dangerously easy to abuse.
The OMG Cable doesn’t require advanced knowledge to use. All it takes is a few clicks and a Wi-Fi connection. There’s no need to write malware, bypass antivirus software, or bypass protection. Just plug it in.
And here opens up a chasm. Because anyone, and I mean anyone, can buy it online. There are no controls, no registrations. No limits. No legal notice accompanying the purchase.
Imagine a meeting room. A coworker leaves a cable plugged into an outlet. Another unsuspecting colleague uses it to plug in their laptop. At that moment, the attacker, who may be sitting at a bar a hundred meters away, opens a shell, executes commands, and exfiltrates data. All in silence. No windows. No alarms.
And now imagine a domestic scenario. Or worse, a relational one. A cable “forgotten” in someone’s home. An invisible keyboard that records everything. That sends everything. That controls everything.
We’re not far from science fiction. We’re exactly there.
In many countries—Italy included—devices like this, if used to record communications without consent, can be considered unlawful interception.
Italian law, for example, severely punishes the use of devices designed to intercept private communications or information.
Yet, the OMG Cable is not subject to any type of regulation. There are no legal notices, licenses, or authorizations. You buy it like a travel charger.
The problem, therefore, is twofold: on the one hand, technology is advancing rapidly and offering increasingly powerful solutions. On the other, the culture and awareness of those who use it remain dangerously behind.
In our world, we like to categorize: white hat, grey hat, black hat. But the reality is much more complex. A tool like the OMG Cable challenges these categories. Because the line between ethical use and criminal abuse depends entirely on context.
And it’s precisely this context that’s missing. Schools, companies, and security managers must start including hacker ethics among the fundamental issues.
It’s no longer enough to teach how to defend against an attack. We must also teach why certain attacks should not be conducted.
Because today, anyone can be an attacker. And if you don’t explain the boundary, they won’t necessarily recognize it on their own.
There’s no simple answer. Installing an antivirus or hardening your firewalls isn’t enough. The danger, in this case, enters through the front door, with the user’s implicit consent.
Policies need to be reviewed. People need to be trained. Physical devices need to be checked with the same rigor with which you analyze a network packet.
The concept of physical security, long underestimated in the digital world, is now forcefully back in the spotlight.
We need a paradigm shift. A new culture. An awareness that places human beings, with their mistakes, habits, and naiveté, at the center of the defense strategy.
The OMG Cable is not evil. It’s not the culprit. It’s a mirror. It reflects who uses it and what they use it for.
It’s a powerful tool, which can do good or harm. It’s up to us.
But one thing is certain: those who work in cybersecurity can’t afford to ignore it.
Because the next compromise could come not from a phishing attachment, not from a CVE vulnerability, but from a simple cable left on the desk.
In 2021, I wrote that even a cable has a life.
Today, I add: it’s up to us to decide what direction that life will take.