A price appeared: not in dollars, but in hours. "720 hours of rendering time. Your CPU. Your GPU. Your fan will scream until it melts."

He knew the risks. The site looked like a digital bazaar—neon green download buttons, fake "mirror links," and comments in broken English praising the uploader. He clicked past three pop-ups advertising VPNs and a "Hot Singles in Your Area" banner. Finally, a single .rar file began to download.

Leo pulled his hand back. The cursor drew a single red line through his perfect schematic. Then another. It began to write text in a font he’d never seen before—thin, angular, like the scratch marks of a dying animal.

The installation was unnervingly smooth. No errors. No requests for a keygen. Just a silent, perfect unpacking of the software. When he double-clicked the new AutoCAD icon, it bloomed open like a silver flower.

Then, at 2:17 AM, the cursor moved on its own.