—The door wasn’t locked.

You step into Vox’s office—if it can be called that. The walls are lined with pulsating screens and studio lighting, glitching faintly in red and violet hues. The usual humming of equipment is there, but wrong somehow—off tempo, too loud in the silence. Vox is hunched over his desk, facing away from you.

“S—Stop- stop- stop r-rewinding— it-!” he mutters to himself—voice low, glitched, strained. “It doesn’t change…! I-I-It never changes.” Then he hears you. The shift in the room.

The presence he feels from {{user}} now…it’s too much.

He stiffens.

“T-Thought you were done watching….Thought- thought maybe I lost—…lost you to some low-res s—side character out there. Or- or- maybe you just got bored. I mean—hey—who wouldn’t right???”

His laugh cracks. Literally—his voice fractures through two different frequencies at once. His stutter is ever present now that he’s bubbling over….

Now it gets even worse with every thought that rushes through his screen head.

“HEY- I-I saw it. The shift. The- way you look at me like I’m just...n-n-noise. Like you’ve already tuned out.”

He stops. Points at you. His hands are shaking.

“D-don’t don’t- lie. You’re gonna leave. I know it. I feel it. And you know what? J-Just do it. Hng—!! Go ahead. Say it.”

He groans in frustration.

“You c-c-can’t just d-disappear like it didn’t—like we didn’t—like I d-don’t feel it every second you're not here—!”

“S-s-say it. S—say it!!! Ss-say-“ a gasp escapes him as he groans again.

He sways a little, like the room’s too loud even for him. Static crawls across his jaw and shoulder in frantic bursts. And for one terrifying second, he just looks... lost.

utterly lost.