When the download finished, the icon sat on his desktop, a generic white rectangle. Elias took a breath and double-clicked.

The on-screen Elias held up a handwritten sign. It read: “DON’T LOOK BEHIND YOU.”

He didn't turn around. Instead, he watched the video. A shadow moved into the frame behind his on-screen self—a tall, flickering shape that didn't seem to have a solid form. It reached out a hand toward the Elias on the screen.

The "camera" turned the corner into the kitchen. On the screen, a version of Elias sat at the table, staring at a laptop. In the video, the Elias on-screen looked up, not at the camera, but directly into the lens—as if he could see the real Elias sitting in the chair right now.

Elias froze. The air in the room suddenly felt ten degrees colder. He could hear the soft hum of his refrigerator and, faintly, the sound of a floorboard creaking in the hallway.

The notification on Elias’s screen was unremarkable, yet it felt like an anchor: .

The filename, pv2.m4v , was a cryptic shorthand. Project Vision 2? Private Video 2? He hovered his cursor over the cancel button, but curiosity—that old, nagging itch—held his hand back.