A new window appeared on his desktop—not the mirroring app, but a simple text file titled README_OR_ELSE.txt .

The glowing text on the monitor felt like a promise: .

In the quiet, the only sound was the frantic beating of his heart. He had wanted to mirror his screen to the world, but instead, he’d given the world a window into his life. The "activation code" hadn't unlocked a feature; it had unlocked the front door.

"Great, a dud," Leo muttered, reaching for his phone. But his phone wouldn't wake up. It was plugged into the PC via USB, and now the screen was a deep, unyielding black. Suddenly, his PC speakers emitted a sharp, digital chirp.

He ran the installer. Instead of the familiar ApowerMirror interface, a command prompt window flickered open and shut. Then, silence. The software didn't launch.

Leo’s stomach dropped. He watched as his cursor began to move on its own, clicking through his personal folders. He grabbed the power cord and yanked it from the wall, plunging the room into true darkness.