The air in the room grew cold, smelling of old wax and floor polish. In the reflection of his monitor, Elias saw the silhouette of a man sitting on his bed. The figure was hunched over an invisible keyboard, fingers moving with impossible speed.

Elias sat in the absolute pitch black, his ears ringing. When he finally found his phone and turned on the flashlight, the computer screen was dead. The file was gone. The folder was empty.

Suddenly, a single, thunderous chord erupted. It was so loud Elias jumped, nearly knocking over his wine. But the sound didn't stop. It sustained, vibrating with an unnatural resonance that seemed to hum in his very bones. The recording wasn't just audio; it felt like a physical presence in the room.