The installation was unnervingly fast. A progress bar zipped across his screen, and suddenly, the software was there, bypassed and ready. He launched it, and for a few glorious hours, he was a god. He imported his models, mapped their skeletons, and watched as they danced across his monitor with a realism he’d only dreamed of. But then, the glitches started.

Panic set in. Elias reached for the power cable, but before he could pull it, his webcam light flickered to life. On his screen, next to his distorted creation, a live feed of his own room appeared. But it wasn't right. In the reflection of the window behind him, a figure stood—a silhouette that mirrored the jagged, grinning model on his screen. He spun around. The room was empty.

Elias tried to close the program, but the 'X' button did nothing. He tried to force a shutdown, but the screen remained frozen on his character's face. The model, once a vibrant creation of his own making, began to contort. Its skin turned a digital grey, and its mouth stretched into an impossible, jagged grin.

A window popped up, devoid of the usual Windows framing. It was just a black box with white text: CREATION REQUIRES A COST.