A voice came through his headset. It wasn't a game character. It was crisp, clean, and American.

the voice continued, now a whisper inside Alex's skull. "The crackers did. They packed me into this .exe as a joke. A little calling card. But jokes need an audience. And you, Alex, haven't paid for a ticket in three years."

He reopened it. This time, there was no menu. He was standing on a street he didn’t recognize. It wasn't a multiplayer map from the game. It was a gray, wet alley. A dumpster overflowed with rotting fruit. A single streetlamp flickered, buzzing like a trapped fly.

Alex tried to alt-tab. The screen flickered. When it came back, he wasn't watching the soldier anymore. He was looking through his eyes . He could feel the cold wind on his face. He could smell the rot from the dumpster.

On Alex’s real monitor, a final line of text appeared. The knife came down. The screen went black.