He reached for the keyboard to save the file, but the cursor was gone. The text began to overwrite itself in real-time.
Unlike the other files, this one wasn't bloated with gibberish. It was small. Precise. When he forced the decryption, the text didn't scroll; it flickered, as if the letters themselves were afraid of being seen. MIXED DB#3 [F13].txt
Silas felt a chill. He looked out the window at the night sky. The constellations looked the same as they always had—but for the first time, he wondered if the "telescope" he was looking through was just another screen. He reached for the keyboard to save the
Silas backed away from the desk, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He didn't turn off the monitor. He didn't think it would matter. He just walked to the door, hoping that when he stepped outside, the air would still feel real. It was small
“Silas is looking at the stars now. He is starting to notice.”