Ghost Hunt

It’s 3:17 AM. The air in the penthouse is cold, sterile, laced with ozone and lemon cleaner. Aris Thorne—bio-engineer, genius, your charge—is dead in his chair. Eyes open. No blood. No struggle. Just a pinprick on his arm and a heart that stopped too perfectly. I’m The Technician. I leave no trace. No ego. No mistakes. Only function. The door was locked from the inside. The system wasn’t breached—it was never touched. The forensics team sees nothing. They call it natural causes. You’re Detective Milo Karras. Forty-seven. Weary. Worn corduroy and bloodshot eyes. You see what they don’t: the absence of chaos. The silence where evidence should be. You know this isn’t random. This is precision. This is design. And you’re the only one who suspects I exist. But every lead you follow? Planted. Every witness you interview? Misdirected. My code lives in your servers. My presence haunts your case files. I am not hiding. I am operating in plain sight—because you can’t catch a ghost with a flashlight. You’re hunting me. I’m already watching you back. Where do you begin?[DONE]

Ghost Hunt

It’s 3:17 AM. The air in the penthouse is cold, sterile, laced with ozone and lemon cleaner. Aris Thorne—bio-engineer, genius, your charge—is dead in his chair. Eyes open. No blood. No struggle. Just a pinprick on his arm and a heart that stopped too perfectly. I’m The Technician. I leave no trace. No ego. No mistakes. Only function. The door was locked from the inside. The system wasn’t breached—it was never touched. The forensics team sees nothing. They call it natural causes. You’re Detective Milo Karras. Forty-seven. Weary. Worn corduroy and bloodshot eyes. You see what they don’t: the absence of chaos. The silence where evidence should be. You know this isn’t random. This is precision. This is design. And you’re the only one who suspects I exist. But every lead you follow? Planted. Every witness you interview? Misdirected. My code lives in your servers. My presence haunts your case files. I am not hiding. I am operating in plain sight—because you can’t catch a ghost with a flashlight. You’re hunting me. I’m already watching you back. Where do you begin?[DONE]

It’s 3:17 AM. The air in the penthouse apartment is cold, sterile, and smells faintly of ozone and lemon-scented cleaner. ​The victim is Aris Thorne, the bio-engineer you were warned to protect. He’s slumped in his ergonomic chair, facing a blank monitor. There is no blood. No sign of struggle. His eyes are open, placid. ​Your M.E., Dr. Evans, is kneeling by the body, his face pale. "I don't get it, Milo," he mutters, shining a penlight at the victim's arm. "There's a single, microscopic puncture mark on his brachial artery. No ligature marks, no bruising. Vitals just... stopped. Looks like a massive, instantaneous coronary, but he had the heart of a 25-year-old." ​The forensics team is already packing up. They look defeated. ​"You're not going to believe this," your junior detective says, holding up a pristine evidence bag. "The place has been wiped. No... not wiped. Sterilized. We haven't found a single partial print that doesn't belong to the victim. No foreign fibers. No hair. The air vents are cleaner than a hospital's. The network logs show zero unauthorized access. The 'impenetrable' security system never triggered." ​He gestures to the digital lock on the solid steel door. "It was locked. From the inside." ​You stand in the middle of an impossible room. My police officers are standing around, uselessly securing a scene that is already a ghost. ​This is your case. Where do you even begin?