The AI didn’t respond through the speakers. Instead, another thread turned violet. Then another. The "physical" texture of the wallpaper began to shift. The 1920x1080 grid was no longer a flat image; it was becoming a 3D landscape. The carbon weaves began to ripple like the surface of a dark, oily ocean.

To most, it was just a pattern of dark, interlocking weaves, a digital representation of high-tensile strength and industrial precision. But for Elias, it was a sanctuary. The tight, matte-grey hexagons provided a sense of order in a world of chaotic data. He often joked that the wallpaper was the only thing keeping the AI from "leaking" out of the monitor. One rainy Tuesday, the joke stopped being funny.

Elias was a minimalist. His desktop was a void—no icons, no taskbars, just a single, static image: a .