And he always, always says no.

He clicked the download.

Rohan did the only thing a sane man could do.

It started, as most bad ideas do, with a blinking cursor and a dangerously low bandwidth cap.

He was Niko Bellic. Or, a version of him. Niko’s face was a Picasso painting: one eye on his chin, his mouth where his ear should be, and his leather jacket was a solid block of vibrating purple pixels.

Rohan never tried to download a game under 100GB again. He played solitaire. He read books. He went outside.