“Who are you?” Franklin asked, gripping a pistol that felt suddenly weightless, like a toy.

A man in a black suit. No face—just a smooth, featureless head. In his hand, a glowing green terminal.

“You are not supposed to see this,” the figure said. Its voice wasn't spoken. It appeared as subtitles in Franklin’s vision. “GTA5.exe is the boundary between your will and your world. And it is failing.”