He looked back at the screen. He made his character pick up the gun. The moment the digital hand closed around the grip, Elias felt a cold, metallic weight settle into his own right palm.
On the screen, a message finally appeared in a jagged, red font:
He moved the character—an identical digital twin of himself—through the hallway. The physics were uncanny. He could see the slight scuff marks on the floorboards where he’d dragged his bike last week. File: Guntastic.zip ...
He jumped, nearly falling out of his chair. He wasn’t holding anything, yet his hand was heavy. His fingers were curled around an invisible shape. When he pulled the trigger in the game, a deafening crack echoed through his physical room, and a very real hole appeared in his bedroom wall.
"Cute," Elias muttered, his heart rate picking up. "Someone mapped the building." He looked back at the screen
In the game, he walked into his kitchen. There, sitting on the digital kitchen island, was a revolver. It was rendered in high-contrast chrome, pulsing with a faint, rhythmic light.
The weight in Elias's hand grew warmer. The game camera panned to the digital front door. Something was tapping on the other side. On the screen, a message finally appeared in
Elias looked away from the screen toward his real kitchen island. It was empty, save for a bowl of half-eaten cereal.