From the dark cavity beneath the glass, a single drop of ink fell. It was not black, cyan, magenta, or yellow. It was a deep, shimmering violet —a color Paul had never seen an Epson produce. It hit the waste pad, but instead of absorbing, it beaded up like mercury.
It was an Epson L5190.
It was a photograph. Of his shop. From the angle of the security camera in the corner. But the timestamp in the corner read: Tomorrow. 3:17 AM. Resetter-printer-epson-l5190-adjustment-program
It was a countdown.