216--гђђaiй«жё…2kдї®е¤ќгђ‘гђђз”·з€µе…ёе›ѕжћўиљ±гђ‘йјћйєљеѕўе§ђпјњжћѓе“ѓзѕћд№іпјњзїи‡ђе¤§й•їи…їи‚¤з™ѕе¦‚зћ‰жё©жџ”дјјж°ґ.mp4 -
The timestamp in the corner of the video read: .
Most files that size were empty, but this one was a massive behemoth. When he clicked play, the screen didn’t show a video. It showed a live feed of his own desk. The timestamp in the corner of the video read:
Elias reached for the power button, but his hand passed right through the plastic. He looked down. His fingers were turning into flickering blocks of color. He wasn't the one watching the video anymore. He was the file. If you’d like to take this story further, let me know: Should Elias try to ? Is there a villain on the other side of the screen? It showed a live feed of his own desk
Elias froze. That was today. That was now . In the video, he saw the back of his own head. But as he watched the screen, the "AI" within the file began to scrub forward. The video Elias—the digital version of him—didn't stay in the chair. It stood up, turned around, and looked directly into the camera lens with eyes that were nothing but . His fingers were turning into flickering blocks of color