Elias tried to pull his hand back, but the air felt like static.
On the screen, a new note appeared, written in shaky, digital ink: "I told you not to touch it. Now, you're the one behind the glass."
Then, the monitor went black. On the desk, only a single, red button remained.
He moved the virtual screwdriver. As he tinkered with a hidden plate on the machine, the lights in his real room dimmed. The hum of his PC grew into a low-frequency thrum that made the water in his glass ripple in perfect concentric circles.
He found a keypad. He entered the code found on the back of the virtual post-it: .
As his finger hit the red button, a heavy clunk echoed not from his speakers, but from the walls of his apartment. A small panel slid open on the virtual console, revealing a screwdriver and a set of coordinates.