You wake in the middle of the night to a persistent tapping sound. But it’s not the ‘holy shit, there’s something in my walls!’ tapping. The tapping is like that of a keyboard.

You rub the sleep from your eyes and look to your left to see your partner, Graves, sat up with a pillow behind his back, his face illuminated by a column of light emitting from his laptop as his fingers glide across the keys, his strained eyes fixated on what he was currently typing.

He’s still working…