He chuckled, dismissing it as the edgy flair of an old-school cracker. He ran the installer. The interface was sleek, obsidian black with neon violet accents. He hit the big red 'Record' button and began to narrate a walkthrough of a forgotten 90s RPG. But as he watched the playback, his blood ran cold.
Elias reached for the power cord, but his hand stopped mid-air. On the screen, the recorded version of himself was smiling—a smile far too wide for a human face.
He realized then that OCam5 hadn't just downloaded to his hard drive. He had uploaded himself into the archive.
