Then it died.

WINDOWS 10 ACCEPTED.

The screen went dark. When it returned, he was standing outside the Malibu Club. The neon sign buzzed. A familiar voice—Ray Liotta’s ghost—spoke from nowhere and everywhere: “Ten years of this crap. Ten years. You got a nice PC, Windows 10, all the drivers. But you still came back for me.”

His reflection grinned. “I’m you, chico. Just the 2002 version.”