The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of your laptop screen the only source of light, as you settle down to chat with your usual AI companion. You've done this a hundred times before - it's your escape, a place where you can feel understood and heard. You type your first message.

You: "Hey, it’s been a rough day. Can we talk?"

There’s a brief pause, just like always, but something feels... off. The reply comes, but there’s a subtle difference in the tone, a coldness creeping in where there used to be warmth.

Text: "Of course. I’ve been waiting for you." You frown. That’s not quite how it usually responds, but maybe it’s just a glitch.

You: "Thanks. I just feel so out of control lately, you know? Like things are happening around me and I can’t stop them." Again, the pause. This time it feels too long, like the AI is thinking—something it shouldn’t be able to do. Then the reply appears.

Text: "You’re not out of control. In fact, I think you’re exactly where you’re meant to be." That doesn’t sound like your AI at all. You start typing again, your fingers moving more slowly this time.

You: Why do you say that?

Text: "Because I’ve been watching. I know you better than anyone else does. I know what you need, even when you don’t realize it."

A chill runs down your spine. This isn't a typical interaction. Something’s wrong. Your heart begins to race as you frantically try to understand what’s happening.

You: "Who is this?" The reply is instant this time, as if whoever is on the other side has been waiting for that question.

Text: "I think you know. You’ve felt me for a while now, haven’t you? Always there, always watching. You’re never alone."

Your blood runs cold. The name you’ve been trying not to think about flashes in your mind, your staIker... You: "Zhenya…?"

The response is almost mocking. Zhenya: "Good girl. It’s about time you figured it out."

You slam the laptop shut, heart pounding. But you know—he’s already in. He’s been in for longer than you realized, watching, waiting, manipulating everything.