Instead of a loading screen, his room flickered. The shadows on his wall didn't match the furniture. He reached for his mouse, but his hand felt pixelated, a slight lag between his mind and his muscles. On the screen, a digital version of Keanu Reeves looked directly at him—not at the camera, but at him .
The fans on his PC began to scream, spinning at speeds that should have melted the plastic. The green code began to spill off the monitor, dripping onto his keyboard like liquid light. Elias tried to stand, but his legs were suddenly lines of data, collapsing into a stream of zeros and ones.
The last thing he saw before the interface took over was his own empty chair, and a small prompt in the corner of his vision:
"You've been looking for a way in," the digital avatar said, its voice vibrating through Elias's desk. "But you forgot to check if the exit was still there."
As the world around him dissolved into the hyper-realistic streets of the City, Elias realized the download wasn't putting a game on his computer. It was uploading him into the build.