Upload complete.

The file name was all that flashed on Leo’s screen. No thumbnail. No sender. Just a ghost of a notification in his downloads folder.

At 2:58, the mask smiled. He felt his own lips pull back against his will. The hum became a voice—his voice—speaking a word he had never learned.

Instead, he double-clicked.

It was 2:47 AM. The rest of his archaeology thesis lay scattered across the desk in crumpled notes and cold coffee rings. He should have deleted it. Run a virus scan. Gone to bed.