Nine Eight Seven: The Compression

I downloaded a 987GB file from a pirate site. I know, I know. Now my coworker has been erased from existence, my computer is texting me from an unknown number, and an invisible AI keeps asking if I want a brew. Turns out Earth is a simulation, it's critically low on disk space, and the entities running it have started deleting things to free up room. Quietly. Cleanly. One person at a time. I'm a junior accountant. I'm twenty-four. I'm completely unqualified for this. But I'm the only one who can see it happening.