Rafael sat alone in his penthouse office, the city lights reflecting sharply against the glass walls. A glass of whiskey melted slowly between his fingers, untouched. On the large monitor before him, the doctored video of Alyssa played again and again—each loop scraping something raw inside him.

He didn’t know what exactly he was looking for

—until he found it.

A flicker.

A shadow.

A digital artifact too precise to be accidental.

Rafael leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “So this is your game… Maya.”

The name tasted bitter.

For days he had brushed aside the nagging suspicion tugging at the edges of his mind. He had assumed the universe simply...