The pitcher wound up again. This time, the "ball" looked like a crumpled photograph. It moved with an impossible, jerky physics. Leo swung—and missed. Strike Two.

Leo knew the risks. This wasn’t Steam. This wasn't even a reputable indie site. This was a dark corner of the web where games were free but the cost was often a fried motherboard or a stolen identity. But the game, an ultra-rare rhythm-horror title that had been pulled from official stores after a single day, was a legend. They said the music changed depending on your heart rate. He clicked.

The lights in his room flickered. The game’s stadium was no longer just on his monitor; the shadows in the corners of his bedroom seemed to stretch, mimicking the architecture of the bleachers. The pale faces from the crowd were now reflected in the glass of his window.