"1, 2, 3, 4..." Matt Bellamy’s voice didn't come from the headphones; it echoed from the hallway.
Leo stared at the flickering cursor. It was 3:00 AM, and the digital ruins of a 2012 music forum felt like a graveyard. He hadn't heard the song in years, but a sudden, frantic need for that specific brand of chaotic funk had driven him here. He clicked the link.
The glowing text on the screen was a relic of a different era:
Leo spun around. His apartment was transforming. The beige walls were bleeding into neon purples and jagged greens. His boring swivel chair was suddenly upholstered in glittery faux-fur. Outside his window, the city skyline began to pulse in perfect synchronization with the drum kit.
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