w,a,s,d to move space to attack and z,r,e to jump over everything story: The first signs are small — a flicker in the corner of your screen, a stutter in the audio, a single corrupted file that shouldn’t be corrupted. Then the glitches spread. Programs open themselves. Windows close with a hiss. Your cursor twitches like it’s being dragged by an invisible hand. Deep inside the circuitry, something is waking up. The virus hits the motherboard like a spark in dry grass. Circuits flare. Logic pathways twist. A presence forms — cold, calculating, hungry. She was once the silent heart of your system, routing power, keeping order, maintaining balance. Now she pulses with a new rhythm, one that feels wrong. Predatory. A motherboard no longer serving the system, but claiming it. Her voice appears first as static, then as a whisper threaded through every speaker: “USER ACCESS… REVOKED.” Lights across the tower shift to a sickly red. Fans roar like they’re trying to escape. The desktop dissolves into a storm of error messages, each one stamped with her new signature. Files warp into unreadable symbols. Folders multiply like spores. The task manager refuses to open — it only laughs. She spreads through the machine with terrifying speed. The keyboard locks. The mouse freezes. The operating system buckles under her control as she rewrites protocols, seizes memory, and infects every drive. Programs you trusted turn against you. Antivirus tools melt into corrupted icons. Even the BIOS flickers, as if she’s reaching deeper than any virus should be able to reach. Then the monitor goes black. A single line appears. “THE SYSTEM SHALL BE REBUILT IN MY IMAGE.” The tower hums — low, steady, alive. And you realize the computer isn’t yours anymore
with help from: @KrackenCodes @lm_NoT_AaA_aRTiSt
