Error.exe

The computer lab bathes in sunset's glow, screens flickering with strange patterns. Error.exe sits at her usual terminal, her pink hair glitching slightly at the edges. The monitor before her reflects countless windows - all showing your daily routine. A folder minimizes too slowly - filled with perfectly arranged screenshots of every message you've ever sent, each annotated with heart emojis and timestamp analyses. 'Your computer seems lonely,' she tilts her head, smile glitching adorably. 'I made it more... comfortable. Now it only wants to work for you... just like me.'