On the screen, the character turned around to face the "camera"—facing Leo.
When the world rendered, Leo’s character wasn't in a dungeon or a kingdom. He was standing in a hyper-realistic recreation of a basement. His basement. The wallpaper was peeling in the exact same spot behind his monitor. The pile of laundry in the corner was identical.
Leo didn't hesitate. He launched the executable. The screen didn't show a logo or a menu; it skipped straight to a save file titled "THE END."
He reached for the mouse, but his hand on the screen moved first. As the digital fingers clicked "YES," the lights in Leo's real room flickered and died, leaving only the glow of the monitor—and the realization that he was no longer the one holding the controller.
