"Yes," Leo muttered, tapping through the warnings. "I need that cyber-grid intro template."

Below the glowing skull, text began to type itself out in a bright green terminal font:

He was about to throw the device against the wall when it suddenly hummed back to life. But it didn't boot to his normal home screen. Instead, a massive, hyper-stylized neon logo appeared. It was a digital skull wearing sunglasses, surrounded by pulsing geometric shapes and a synthetic, heavy-bass trap beat blaring at maximum volume from his phone speakers.

The download completed in seconds. Leo eagerly tapped the file to install it. Suddenly, his screen went pitch black.

Leo tapped the power button. Nothing. He plugged in his charger. Still nothing. A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. His phone, which contained his entire digital life, his edited video, and his contact list, was completely unresponsive.

Leo realized with a sinking heart that the ultimate intro had just cost him everything. He frantically reached for the factory reset button, learning the hard way that when something online is free, you are usually the product.