Elias reached for the power button, but his hand wouldn't move. He looked down and saw thin, translucent wires—like digital veins—threading out of the USB ports and stitching themselves into his wrist. He tried to scream, but his jaw felt locked, his teeth clicking together in a rapid, binary code.

When the progress bar hit 100%, his cooling fans screamed. The laptop chassis grew hot enough to blister skin.

As the digital infection turned his vision into a jagged, low-res nightmare, Elias felt his fingers begin to type. He wasn't in control anymore. He was just the cursor. His hands flew across the keys, uploading v13.0.8 to every contact in his address book.