Marco’s mouse moved on its own. Double-click.

When the lights came back, he wasn't in his apartment anymore. He was in a low-poly jungle, out of ammo, with a health bar in the corner and no pause button.

The progress bar froze at 99%. Then the screen flickered. A wireframe tank spun into view, then pixelated blood, then a voice—distorted, digital, desperate:

“They’re rendering us, Marco. One frame at a time. Don’t. Let. Them. Compile.”

“That game doesn’t exist on PC,” said Eri, leaning over his shoulder.

The download finished.