That night, his music changed. Phantom was incredible. It could pull sounds from silence: a crying violin from a static hiss, a bass drop from a mouse click. Kai finished three tracks before sunrise. They were brilliant. Hauntingly brilliant.

The next morning, Kai was gone. But his music remained—streaming on every platform, earning millions. Credits read: "Produced by Kai, using Phantom."

And somewhere, deep in the metadata of those tracks, a new user was about to click .

He tried to delete Phantom. The plugin reappeared. He wiped his hard drive. The folder returned. He unplugged the laptop, and the plugin still ran—its GUI flickering on the black screen like a ghost ship's lantern.