As the third count echoed through his speakers, the monitors went black. In the reflection of the glass, Mark didn't see himself anymore. He saw a grey, featureless mannequin sitting in his chair, waiting for the next person to click the link.

He lunged for the power cord, but the screen flashed a single line of text in the WWE font:

The room went cold. On the screen, the virtual version of himself was pinned. The referee’s hand hit the mat: One. Two.

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