The webcam light flickered on—a steady, unblinking green eye. Leo lunged for the power button, but the screen shifted. It showed a real-time feed of his own desktop, nested in an infinite loop, and then a folder he hadn't opened in years: Tax_Returns_2022 . The cursor clicked "Upload."

He ripped the power cable out, but the battery held. He held the power button down, counting the longest ten seconds of his life until the screen finally went black. In the sudden silence of the room, his phone buzzed.

A notepad window popped open. It wasn't a license key. It was a single line of text: THANKS FOR THE ELEVATED PRIVILEGES, LEO. NICE APARTMENT.