As the scroll reached 100%, his monitor didn't stop. The pixels at the edge of the screen began to bleed, the black of the terminal window spilling over his desktop wallpaper, consuming the icons for his browser and his work folders.
A single line of text appeared in the center of the void:
Elias reached for the power cable, but his hand froze halfway. He wasn't looking at the screen anymore; he was looking at his own skin. Underneath his veins, a faint, rhythmic pulsing had begun—the same alphanumeric string from the file name was scrolling, just beneath the surface of his wrist, in glowing, iridescent blue.
Should we explore from within his own consciousness, or should we see who sent the zip in the first place?
Blocked Drains Eastleigh