From the hallway, his roommate shouted: "What the hell is that noise?!"
Leo ran. He made it three steps before the laptop screen shattered outward, not with glass, but with light—a beam that painted his bedroom door in impossible geometry. The symbols from the installer now bled across his walls, rearranging his reality like corrupted data.
Then the roommate spoke again, but not in English. Not in any language Leo knew. Yet Leo understood it perfectly:
"We have been repacked. Now we extract."
