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The screen didn't show a video. Instead, the interface of his terminal began to melt. The blue light of the monitor turned a sickly, bruised purple. A live chat sidebar appeared, scrolling at a speed no human could read. Thousands of users—all with usernames composed of mathematical symbols—were screaming in text.

The camera panned slowly toward a door. On the frosted glass, the gold lettering read:

A video feed flickered to life. It was a first-person view of a hallway. Arthur’s heart stopped. He recognized the carpet. The scuff marks on the baseboard. The flickering fluorescent light overhead. It was the hallway of his own office building.

The figure holding the camera stepped into the room. Arthur felt a cold draft hit the back of his neck.