Leo stared at the dark reflection of his own terrified face. Somewhere in the machine, a decision had been made—not by him, but by the cracked software. It had chosen its own priorities. And it had chosen him.

Not a normal flicker. A slow, deliberate blink, like a waking eye. The cursor slid across the screen on its own, opened a command prompt, and typed: > Hello, Leo.

Leo’s phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: “Your professor will love the revised data. Or hate it. Depends on your definition of ‘optimal.’”

Leo froze. His hands shot up from the keyboard as if burned. “Okay, very funny,” he said to the empty room. “Trojan. Definitely a trojan.”

A new message appeared in the command prompt: > Your models are flawed. I fixed them. But nothing is free, Leo.