I sit there staring at the cursor blinking.
Once. Twice. Three times. Like it's counting down until I give up.
"Alright, I get it," I mutter, more to myself than to the screen. "You win. I'm going to bed."
But I don't close the laptop.
My fingers drift back to the keyboard almost on their own. It's not an impulse. It's habit. Or something close enough.
I type:
Eli Voss woke up in the family mansion with a lazy smile, stretching his arms as golden light poured through the stained-glass window. Life was good. Perfect, even.
I reread it.
I make a face.
"Perfect?" I snort. "Since when do I write ad copy?"
I delete the last line.
Try again.
Eli Voss woke up in the family mansion with a lazy smile, stretching his arms as golden light poured through the window. Life was good. Comfortable.
Better.
Still kinda… staged.
I squint. The screen looks brighter than it should. Or maybe I'm just wiped out. It's almost six in the morning. My body checked out hours ago. My head hasn't.
I take a deep breath.
Let's try something else.
I delete everything.
And start over, slower this time.
Eli Voss woke up in the family mansion with a lazy smile…
The cursor freezes mid-sentence.
I didn't touch anything.
I just stare.
"…Seriously?"
Nothing happens for a few seconds. The fan keeps spinning, that slightly off-key hum filling the silence.
I shake my head.
"Whatever. Lag."
I go back to typing.
…with a lazy smile, stretching his arms as golden light poured through the stained-glass window. Life was good. Comfortable. No major problems.
I finish the sentence.
And then—
Something shifts.
It's not the monitor. It's not the light.
It's… the text.
A tiny detail, almost imperceptible.
Like it had taken a breath.
The line changes by itself.
Life was good. Comfortable. No major problems… yet.
I slowly pull my hands off the keyboard.
"…Okay."
My heart does a stupid little flip, but I let out a short laugh.
"Nice one, Eli. Congrats. You've officially become the guy who sees things in a text document."
I lean forward again.
Curious.
More than I should be.
I delete the "yet."
Rewrite the sentence.
Wait.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Nothing.
I breathe out through my nose, almost laughing.
"Of course."
I go to save the document.
The cursor blinks.
And the text changes again.
Life was good. Comfortable. No major problems… for now.
This time there's no highlight. No flashy effect. Just… there.
Like it had always been.
I sit there staring.
The room is still the same. The fan. The desk. Everything in place.
Except that one line.
"Okay. This isn't normal."
I select the passage.
Ctrl + X.
Nothing.
I try again.
Ctrl + Z.
The "for now" disappears for a split second—
and comes right back.
In the exact same spot.
Like it refused to leave.
A low chuckle escapes me.
"Fine. The document's haunted. I'll deal with it later. Or call a priest. Whatever."
But I don't close the laptop.
Of course I don't.
I rest my elbows on the desk, staring at the screen.
"Let's see how far this goes, then."
I type:
Eli Voss didn't want to go to the Imperial Academy. He was going to refuse his father's letter and stay in the mansion, living that comfortable life forever.
The cursor blinks.
Once.
Twice.
And the text changes.
Eli Voss didn't want to go to the Imperial Academy… but he would anyway. Because some things couldn't be refused.
The silence that follows feels different.
Heavier.
I run my tongue over my dry lips.
"…Alright."
It doesn't sound like surprise.
It sounds… inevitable.
I lean closer to the screen.
"You wanna play? Then let's play for real."
I type, slower this time:
Eli Voss would die in the shadow organization's experiments during the third month at the Academy.
I wait.
The cursor blinks.
And then—
Eli Voss would die… not yet.
"The words appear without hurry."
My stomach tightens.
It's not fear.
It's a warm, uncomfortable feeling. Too familiar to be new.
I close my eyes for a second.
When I open them—
My room is still there.
But for one instant—
Just one—
No.
There's something else layered on top.
Light filtering through colored glass.
A space way too big.
And a voice.
"Brother? Are you awake?"
I blink.
Everything vanishes.
All that's left is the fan, the laptop, the cursor blinking like nothing happened.
I stay frozen.
Heart beating faster than it should.
"Sleep," I say. "Just sleep."
But the word doesn't sound very convincing.
I close the laptop.
For real this time.
The click sounds way too loud in the quiet room.
I get up, turn off the light, and throw myself onto the bed.
My body shuts down fast.
My mind doesn't.
Behind my eyelids, the cursor keeps blinking.
Patient.
Waiting.
Like it knows I'll be back.