Game of Thrones

A chat box materialized in the bottom-right corner. It was empty except for a single system message:

On the fourth day, something changed.

Leo’s heart thudded. He looked up. Henderson was now drawing a timeline on the board. No one was watching. He looked back at the screen. The revolver was no longer just spinning. It was loading . A progress bar filled its barrel, one bullet-shaped segment at a time.

Leo hadn't noticed he'd spun it that many times. He clicked again. Whir-click . The counter jumped to 1,001.

Leo stared at the gun on his screen. It was no longer a render. It looked real. The metal had scratches. The grip had a worn texture. He could almost feel its weight in his hand.