78%... 92%... The video feed shifted. It showed Leo’s bedroom. The light was on. His wife, Maya, was asleep. But someone else was standing by the window. A figure in a long coat, holding a device pointed at the parked car outside.

By the time he pulled into his driveway, sweat beaded on his forehead not from the heat, but from the wrongness of it. The screen flickered, displaying static for a split second—and in that static, he swore he saw a face.

A voice—flat, synthetic, but unmistakably urgent—whispered: "They are listening through the old kernel. Android 11 patches the backdoor. Do not stop the update."

His phone had no signal. WiFi was off. How was the head unit even connected?

"K2001n is not a radio," the voice continued. "It is a network node. The previous owner installed it. The previous owner was not a mechanic."

Leo’s blood ran cold. He grabbed the door handle. It was locked. The child safety locks engaged with a heavy thunk .