He reached for the mouse, but his fingers slipped through it like mist. The Better Console hadn't just improved the game; it had expanded its boundaries to include the player.
“You wanted to be a god,” the screen read. “But a god’s place isn't in the game. It’s in the machine.” He reached for the mouse, but his fingers
Max froze. He tried to Alt-Tab, to pull the plug, to do anything, but the computer stayed powered, humming a low, dissonant chord. He reached for the mouse