And from the end of the corridor, a figure shuffled into view. It wore a developer’s hoodie, stained and torn. Its face was a render mesh with no texture—just gray, low-poly geometry and two empty eye sockets where a webcam feed should have been.
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“You shouldn’t be here.”
“The patch is a parasite.”
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The hallway stretched. The faces on the wallpaper began to move, to turn their silent-scream mouths toward him. One of them had his eyes. Another, his mother’s nose. A third, the curve of his childhood dog’s ear. And from the end of the corridor, a