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Elias tried to move toward the door, but his character wouldn't walk. He could only rotate the camera. Every time he completed a 360-degree turn, Huggy Wuggy was a foot closer.

Elias laughed. “Nice touch, Hakux,” he muttered, hitting Yes .

A heavy, fur-covered weight landed on Elias’s shoulders from behind. The smell of old plastic and copper filled the room. He didn't turn around. He didn't have to. The "highly compressed" version of the game had finally finished unpacking—right in his bedroom. Elias tried to move toward the door, but

Panic finally flared in Elias's chest. He reached for Alt+F4 , but his keyboard felt sticky, as if honey had been poured between the keys. He looked down. A thick, blue viscous liquid was seeping out from underneath his laptop's chassis.

When he gained control of the character, he was already in the central hub. Huggy Wuggy stood on his pedestal, but he wasn’t a frozen statue. The blue fur was matted and damp, and the doll’s head followed Elias’s cursor with mechanical precision. Elias laughed

The installation didn't have a progress bar. Instead, a series of grainy images flickered across his screen: the Playtime Co. factory, but the colors were inverted, the yellow walls a bruised purple. A text box popped up, written in a font so thin it looked like scratches: “Are you sure you want to let him in?”

360 degrees. Huggy was at the base of the pedestal. 360 degrees. Huggy was at the edge of the carpet. 360 degrees. The long, blue arms were reaching out, the velcro paws scraping against the digital floor. The smell of old plastic and copper filled the room

“I didn't compress the game, Elias. I compressed the distance.”