The screen split into nine tiles. Each showed Marco’s living room from different angles — ceiling cam, laptop cam, the reflection in his TV. His own face in the bottom-right tile, confused, leaning toward the screen.

He stood up. The Rabbid on screen mirrored him — stood up inside its tile.

He waved. The Rabbid waved back, but three seconds late. Then it grinned. Too wide. Too real.

The story ends with Marco unplugging every device in his house, only to hear a muffled “Bwaaah?” from his smart thermostat. Would you like a version where the Rabbids actually take over the console’s file system, or one where they help him break into other games’ code for a chaotic “Rabbids invasion mode”?

“Bwaaah?” it whispered. Not screamed. Whispered.