The installation didn't ask for a directory. It didn't show a progress bar. It just... finished.

The flames weren't realistic. They were bright orange triangles that flickered in a stiff, three-frame animation. As Elias drove past them, the heat in his room spiked. He could smell it now—not just the dust of his PC fan, but the sharp, acrid scent of melting upholstery and scorched rubber.

The boxy sedan stopped. Elias watched as a single orange triangle—the first pixel of a flame—bloomed on his car's digital hood. At the same moment, a small, glowing ember drifted out of his monitor and landed on his desk.

Should we explore what happens when Elias , or