In the corner of the room, something began to take shape. It was tall, many-limbed, and glowing with that same stolen Aetherial light. It was an Overseer, and it didn't care about copyright laws—it only cared about the soul currently tethered to the PC.

Green light, the sickly hue of Aether energy, began to leak from the edges of his monitor. It wasn't light; it was a mist, thick and smelling of ozone and rot. Marko tried to pull back, but his mouse hand was frozen, fused to the plastic.

Marko realized too late that when you download Grim Dawn from the wrong places, you don't just play the game.

He looked at his room. The walls were warping, turning into the crumbling stone of a Devil’s Crossing prison cell. The torrent hadn't just downloaded a game; it had opened a rift.

He hesitated. The fan in his PC began to whine, a high-pitched mechanical scream that sounded almost... organic. He clicked.

The rain in Burrwitch didn't just fall; it felt like it was trying to drown the world in grey. Inside a flickering shack, Marko stared at his monitor, the glow reflecting in his tired eyes. On the screen, a progress bar for a crawled forward like a dying insect.