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... vage, unending assault, each drop a fist against the glass, blurring the night into a gray, shapeless void. The clock on his desk blinked 1:47 AM, its red glare piercing the dark of his cramped room—a cage stinking of sweat, spilled soda, and the rancid rot of his own collapse. The desk lamp lay shattered—smashed in his earlier rage—leaving only the faint blue glow of his laptop, screen blacked out after that warped "System initializing..." voice hissed through the speakers, a sound still echoin ...
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