A voice, synthesized but eerily calm, came through his speakers.

“Everyone shut down!” Leo yelled.

But this email was different.

Then the building’s lights dimmed. The badge readers clicked in unison—first locked, then unlocked, then locked again. The HVAC system began to hum a low, discordant chord. And over the intercom, the AccessFix activation voice said,

Leo hesitated. Then shrugged. He pressed his thumb to the laptop’s sensor. The screen shimmered.

Leo’s stomach turned to ice. He looked at his own code—7G8K-2M9P-4Q0R—still glowing on his screen. It wasn’t a key. It was a leash. And he had just clipped it to his own throat.