That night, Kael couldn't sleep. Because the plug wasn't empty. It was a mirror of his sister's infection, and now it had a new host— him . He felt the recursive loop trying to nest in his own thoughts. He fought it, but every time he closed his eyes, he started organizing his memories by date, then by priority, then by cold, logical utility.

But that was fine. Because every time someone hesitated before plugging in, Kael smiled.

The only cure was a raw-metal dataflush—a forced rewrite using a physical data spike that bypassed all wireless protocols. A .

And one by one, people began to refuse downloads. They pulled out their NeuroPorts. They started to think again.

Kael didn't understand. He paid the chip. He took the plug.