Elias tried to push back from the desk, but his chair felt heavy, as if it were sinking into the floor. On the screen, a new search bar appeared. It wasn't waiting for him to type; it was recording his pulse.
"Search results complete," a system voice whispered from the internal speakers. "The biological tax is due." Elias tried to push back from the desk,
The header was clinical, almost mocking. Beneath it sat a list of titles that defied logic. Some were blatant fetish fodder, others looked like broken medical software, and a few were just rows of corrupted text. He scrolled past a "Park Ranger Simulator" that seemed suspiciously detailed about hydration mechanics. but his chair felt heavy