Leo’s heart hammered against his ribs. He clicked it. The window opened to a live feed of his own room, taken from his webcam, but rendered in the blocky, low-poly style of Roblox. There he was, sitting at his desk, staring at the screen with wide, terrified eyes. Behind his low-poly self in the video, a shadow moved.

Leo smirked, leaning back. He felt like a ghost in the machine, a god of the lobby. But then, the GUI did something it wasn't programmed to do. The red buttons began to pulse. The text shifted from Romanian to a language he didn't recognize—symbols that looked like falling rain.

"Hacker!" someone typed in the chat."Report Leo, he's using the K-Script," another added.

For a second, the game froze. Then, a sleek, transparent GUI slid onto his screen. It was beautiful—minimalist sliders for FOV, toggle switches for "Silent Aim," and a bright red button labeled "God Mode."

He joined a match in Villa . While other players were frantically jumping and checking corners, Leo stood still in the center of the courtyard. He toggled the setting.

The neon letters of the "Arsenal" logo flickered on Leo’s monitor, casting a blue glow over his cramped desk. He wasn't here to play fair today. On his second screen, a Notepad file blinked with a single line of code he’d found on an underground forum titled:

(The best way to find you.)

His character stopped moving. In the game chat, a message appeared under his name, though he hadn't typed it: