Against every instinct of digital hygiene, I clicked it. My monitor flickered, the colors inverted for a split second, and then a simple command prompt window opened. It didn't ask for a password. It just started scrolling text—thousands of lines of logs. [LOG] 08:12:04 - Subject waking up.
[LOG] 08:14:22 - Subject consuming caffeine. Heart rate: 72 bpm.
The logs went back three years. Every keystroke, every private thought typed into a draft email, every time I looked in the mirror and sighed. It was a perfect digital ledger of my life.
I tried to close the window, but the "X" button dodged my cursor. I tried to pull the plug, but the monitor stayed glowing, powered by something other than the wall outlet.