His mouse cursor began to move toward it, guided by a hand that was no longer his own.

In the video, a text box appeared over his head:

The digital Elias held up a handwritten sign: DON’T UNZIP THE NEXT ONE.

Elias froze, but his digital twin on the screen kept typing. He looked up at the corner of the room, but there was no camera—only peeling wallpaper. He looked back at the screen. The "Elias" on the monitor had stopped typing and was now looking directly into the camera, a look of profound, weary pity on his face.

As the progress bar crept forward, his monitor flickered. The fans on his rig began to whine, rising in pitch until they sounded like a human scream caught in a vacuum. When the extraction hit 100%, the screen didn't show a folder. It showed a live feed of Elias sitting in his own chair, viewed from the corner of his ceiling.