OFFLINE- Chapter 9
The Camera Across the Room
Kai stopped breathing.
The livestream now showed him from the far corner of the apartment.
A wide angle.
Watching him beside the desk.
Watching him panic.
But there was no second camera in the room.
No tripod.
No phone recording.
Nothing.
Kai Mercer slowly turned toward the apartment corner visible in the stream.
Empty.
The real room remained exactly the same.
Yet on the livestream—
the viewpoint moved slightly.
Like someone adjusting their grip on the camera.
The chat exploded violently.
HE PICKED IT UP
DONT LET HIM FILM YOU
ONCE HE TAKES OVER THE STREAM ITS DONE
Kai’s hands shook uncontrollably now.
“What does that mean?!”
User-0 finally answered.
User-0:
Every Final Broadcast ends with replacement.
Cold dread spread through Kai’s chest.
Replacement.
The duplicate.
The smiling reflection.
The delayed stream.
Something inside the livestream was slowly becoming him.
Then the camera angle on stream tilted sideways slightly.
And from behind the lens—
a pale hand became visible for half a second.
Holding the camera.
Kai physically stumbled backward.
No no no.
The apartment lights dimmed again.
The stream version of the room looked darker now than reality itself.
Shadows stretched unnaturally across the walls behind Kai while the camera slowly moved closer toward him on-screen.
Approaching.
The viewers spammed faster.
DONT LET HIM REACH YOU
KEEP EYE CONTACT
HE NEEDS YOUR FACE
Another donation alert appeared.
$250,000.
User-0
If the stream loses your face completely, the copy becomes permanent.
Kai immediately moved back into webcam view instinctively.
The moving camera stopped advancing.
Like it was waiting.
Watching.
Then the apartment bathroom door slowly creaked open in real life.
Kai turned sharply.
Darkness inside.
Nothing visible.
But from the bathroom—
came soft breathing.
The same breathing from earlier calls.
Then another voice spoke quietly from inside the bathroom.
Kai’s voice.
“You left me in there.”
His blood ran cold instantly.
The moving stream camera suddenly rushed forward violently.
The feed shook aggressively while sprinting toward Kai through the apartment.
The viewers exploded.
RUN
HE’S CROSSING
DONT LET HIM TOUCH YOU
Kai grabbed the desk lamp and hurled it toward the monitor instinctively.
The screen cracked hard.
Static burst across the livestream feed.
But the stream didn’t stop.
The camera kept moving closer through distortion and glitching visuals.
Then the bathroom light switched on.
And standing inside the doorway—
was Kai.
Not reflection.
Not stream.
Physically standing there.
Same face.
Same hoodie.
Same terrified eyes.
Except the duplicate smiled wider than humanly possible.
And softly—
it whispered:
“Your viewers like me more.”