A timeline. But not his timeline. Someone else's. The previous owner of this mouse. A teenager named Luca, according to a fragment of a shipping label still stuck to the bottom of the box. The driver had recorded Luca too. For months. And then, one day, the predictions stopped. No more user input. Just an endless loop of the same six-second segment: a WASD strafe, a jump, a single rifle shot. Over and over. 47,000 times.
He scrolled to the bottom. The most recent entries were… wrong.
Arjun's hand hovered over the USB port. He could plug it back in. He could let Luca—or whatever the driver had turned Luca into—take over. Just for a minute.
The last log entry from Luca: 2024-11-03 03:12:01 — USER INPUT: Left click (user appears distressed. Repeated pattern detected. Flagged.)
The T16 sat on the desk, unplugged, its RGB cycling through colors in a slow, mournful pattern. And Arjun realized: the mouse was just a sensor. The driver was the cage. And somewhere inside the driver's bloated, unsigned code, two ghosts were learning to share a single polling rate.