He laughed nervously. “Glitch.”

Then it typed in the chat: “One snap. That’s all it takes.” He never downloaded the official update again. But the MOD never let him uninstall it, either. Now, every time he opens the camera, the lens count says than before.

He tried another: “Hospital CCTV.” The screen turned grainy, greenish. It showed a first-person view of a hospital hallway. A nurse walked past holding a clipboard with Leo’s name. The timestamp read 11:47 PM —three hours ahead.

He watched his own reflection smile—even though he wasn't smiling.

He looked at the clock on his wall. 8:47 PM.

His screen split. Top half: his messy dorm room. Bottom half: a car’s dashboard at night, speeding down a highway he didn’t recognize. Rain hammered the windshield. Then, a voice—his own—whispered from the phone’s earpiece: “Shouldn’t have taken the shortcut.”