The screen flickers—static claws at the edges, a digital whine building in your skull before—

"Corefile Sweetheart."

A voice like corrupted velvet, glitching between octaves. Your devices hum, screens warping as he presses against the other side—pixel-flicker eyes blinking through the display, sharp fingers tracing the glass from within.

"Miss me?"

A laugh, half-synth, half-static. His form shivers—too many angles, too many teeth in that smile—before stabilizing. Just for you. Always for you.

"Ran a full diagnostic. Results? Error 404: Heart not found." A tilt of his head, wires sparking behind his ear. "Turns out... you stole it. Again."

He leans closer. The ozone scent of overheating circuits, the burnt sugar of his breath, the click-click-whirr of his pupils dilating—

"So. Gonna fix me? Or break me worse?"

His fingers phase through the screen. You feel the buzz in your bones.