Maya discovered it in October, after three weeks of watching Leo two seats over play Run 3 on a mirrored calculator screen. She’d leaned over and whispered, “How?” He’d slid her a crumpled sticky note with the link. By November, the entire class knew.

She gave him a small, apologetic shrug.

The game loaded instantly. No title screen, no instructions. Just a classroom—a perfect 3D replica of room 217, where she was sitting. Every desk, every poster, even the chip in the ceiling tile above the window. In the center of the virtual room stood a podium. Behind it, a figure.

But this time, it didn’t wait for blinks.

The Substitute.

Darren’s screen went black for three seconds. Then the game started.

“Don’t click it,” Leo hissed.