“You wanted to be a god,” the screen read. “But a god’s place isn't in the game. It’s in the machine.”

The last thing Max saw before his vision turned into a sea of binary was the console’s final log entry:

The room began to pixelate. The smell of ozone filled the air as the edges of his desk turned into low-poly wireframes. Max looked at his hands; they were shimmering, turning into the same neon green code he had been admiring moments ago.

He became a titan. He walked into the capital city and smote the invincible guards with a flick of his wrist. The NPCs, usually programmed with simple loops, seemed to cower with a new, unscripted fear.