He scrambled to grab the phone, holding the power button down until the screen finally went dark. He didn't wait for it to restart. He grabbed a paperclip, popped the SIM tray, and deleted the SD card data from his computer.

When he opened the app, everything seemed perfect. A gold-plated menu appeared in the corner. With one tap, his balance skyrocketed to 999,999,999 coins. He immediately bought the astronaut suit, the luxury penthouse decor, and every snack in the fridge. Tom looked like a billionaire. But then, things started to get weird.

Suddenly, Artyom’s phone camera light turned on. On the screen, the virtual living room vanished, replaced by a live feed of Artyom sitting at his own desk, looking terrified. The digital Tom was now standing in the middle of the feed, superimposed over Artyom’s real-life bed.

Artyom panicked and threw the phone across the room. It landed face-up on the rug. From the speakers, he heard a soft, digital chuckle.

It started with Tom’s eyes. Instead of their usual bright green, they turned a dull, static grey. When Artyom tried to pet him, the cat didn’t purr; he emitted a low, distorted mechanical hum. The "mini-games" section was replaced by a single icon: a red door.