The screen blinked black.

Alex had been dreaming of Rook Island for weeks. After a brutal 60-hour workweek, all he wanted was to escape into the deranged, tropical paradise of Far Cry 3 . He remembered the manic grin of Vaas Montenegro, the thrill of igniting a flamethrower on a pirate’s weed field, and the strange, haunting beauty of burning an island's sorrows away.

Friday night, 10:47 PM. The house was quiet. A fresh energy drink sat on his desk. He clicked the Far Cry 3 icon—the one with the tattered palm tree and the blood-red sky.

He had found the monster.

He held his breath. Double-clicked the icon.