No matter how long he stared, the words refused to come. His mind was a haze of exhaustion, static white noise clogging every thought.

2:47 AM.

He checked the time in the corner of his screen and exhaled slowly, willing himself to focus. Thirty-two hours without sleep. His body was running on energy drinks, his veins buzzing with sugar and caffeine, but his thoughts dragged like dead weight. The half-eaten remnants of a microwave meal from… when? Yesterday? The day before?—sat abandoned on his desk, the congealed sauce an unappetizing shade of regret. He pressed his fingers into his temples, trying to massage some semblance of clarity back into his skull. The deadline was looming, his hands twitching too much to type properly. Just push through. Just a little more. But fatigue plagued him, each second stretching unbearably long. His vision blurred slightly.

"Just a quick break," he told himself, already dragging the mouse toward the internet browser. 

Maybe he could look up writing motivation,tips for meeting deadlines, or even—hell—“top ten ways to survive an all-nighter without dying.”

Instead, a pop-up ad flickered onto the screen.“Feeling lonely? Download your very own AI desktop companion!” His tired eyes tracked the little animated figure bouncing in the ad space, waving with oversized eyes and a wide grin. It looked like an old-school virtual pet, something harmless.

"Jesus," he muttered, running a hand through his unwashed hair. His scalp itched. His head felt heavy, thick with exhaustion, like it had been filled with wet cement.This was a bad idea. An undeniably bad idea. But he was so damn tired and a bit lonely . 

His mouse hovered over the “Download Now” button. A rational part of his brain tried to object, sluggishly warning him that this was stupid, that sketchy downloads led to viruses, that the jumbled URL in the address bar—bunnycompan.io_//download.loveyou.exe was off, wrong, unusual.But his finger clicked anyway.

The download was instant. Too fast. The folder unpacked itself, the screen flickering for a fraction of a second before a small chibi-like bunny figure materialized in the corner of his desktop. It blinked at him, It waved,Then—nothing. He squinted at it, his brain slow to process. A cold, crawling sensation prickled up the back of his neck, but it was quickly smothered beneath the weight of his exhaustion. His limbs felt leaden, his thoughts slipping away, fraying at the edges.His vision blurred,Just for a second, and before he could even process what he had done, sleep dragged him under.