The screen flickered back to life. The Windows desktop appeared for a brief flash, and then Cyberstrike 2049 re-centered itself. The artifacts were gone. The colors were crisp. The framerate was smooth.
Then, a miracle.
His fingers moved from muscle memory. He didn’t look at the keyboard. He just felt for the keys.
“No, no, no, no,” he muttered, slamming his palm on the desk.