The video on the computer beside Ethan played on an endless loop, a forgotten colleague slumped asleep across the desk, overtaken by exhaustion.
A familiar, lighthearted tune filtered softly from the speakers.
"Cigarette~ It's such a cold day, I want to smoke an electronic cigarette, but Rick doesn't have electricity~"
Ethan's lips twitched at the irony of the song's line and the simple repetition of the office's favorite fan remix.
They had dubbed it "the second creation" of a classic tune — a melody etched into every cubicle during late-night overtime.
Normally, Ethan might have found comfort in its familiar rhythm, but now it only deepened the restless disquiet stirred within him.
His watch flickered—2:30 AM.
He grimaced and snapped his palm sharply.
The loud crack startled his comrade awake, who adjusted his glasses warily.
"Holy crap, why the hell are you slapping yourself awake?" the sleepy man groaned.
"I thought the supervisor was around," the sleepy man grumbled.
