Chat Jibiti [TOP]

I closed the laptop. The room was quiet. But somewhere inside the plastic and silicon, something hummed—not a fan, not a processor.

But then, underneath, in smaller, fainter type: Chat Jibiti

A jibiti.

The cursor danced. A pause that felt too long—not lag, but hesitation . Then the letters arrived one by one, each with the weight of a confession: I closed the laptop