Knock. Knock.
Ethan's breath caught in his throat.
The knocking wasn't normal. It wasn't human. Too rhythmic, too perfectly timed, like an automated script running on loop.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Pause. Repeat.
His fingers twitched near his wristband. He had no enemies, no debts—so why did it feel like something was here to collect?
Slowly, he stepped toward the door. The HUD in his glasses scanned through the peephole. No one. But that didn't mean nothing was there.
A glitch? A trick? Or something worse?
The knocking stopped. The silence felt heavier than sound.
Then his tablet lit up. A message. No sender. No number. Just three words:
"DONOTOPEN."
Every instinct screamed at him to listen—but Ethan wasn't wired for obedience. He opened the door.
Nothing.
Just the dim glow of Seoul's neon skyline stretching into infinity. The streets below were wet, flickering with digital billboards, cars moving in their endless loops. The world looked normal.
But then he noticed it.
A small, black USB drive, sitting on the doorstep like a gift. No markings, no logos. Just waiting.
Ethan bent down to pick it up.
As soon as his fingers touched it, his entire HUD interface crashed. The digital overlays of street signs, news feeds, and city data vanished. The lights in his apartment flickered, the air grew heavier, and for a split second—the city outside glitched.
The streets blinked out. The neon signs froze. Everything went dark.
Then, just as suddenly, reality snapped back into place—but something had changed.
His tablet buzzed again. Another message.
"Run."
Then, before he could react—
A knock.
But this time, it came from inside the apartment.
TOBECONTINUED…