Daniel's voice, cold and final, echoed in the stunned silence of The Gaffer's Dugout. Ethan's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. His sister's horrified face, the confused murmurs of his friends and family… it was all a nightmare.
And then he woke up.
He sat bolt upright in bed, drenched in a cold sweat, the ghost of the corrupted code still flickering behind his eyes.
His heart was a frantic drum solo in the quiet of his room. He looked around. No party. No projector.
No Daniel. Just the familiar, comforting darkness of his own bedroom.
It was a dream. A vivid, terrifying, and utterly convincing stress dream.
He fumbled for his phone, his hands still trembling. The screen lit up, showing the time: 3:14 AM. He had a dozen new notifications, but one stood out. A text from Sarah, sent hours ago, just after she'd gotten home from the party.
Sarah: Hey! We had such a great time tonight! Daniel absolutely loved The Dugout.
