You type the words into the empty field, and the screen brightens as if it has been fed. The cursor stops blinking for a single, loaded second. Then the monitor replies with a line that appears letter by letter: I see you too. Somewhere behind the wall, the hum deepens into a satisfied purr, and the notebook on the desk flips open to a page you are certain was blank before.

The room seems to lean toward the desk. The reflection in the window shifts a fraction too late, like an image trying to catch up with your face. New text blooms beneath the first message: If you can see me, then prove it. The prompt waits, patient and alert, as though the story has finally noticed that you are noticing it.