Elias moved his mouse. The cursor was a small, pale hand. He clicked on the front door. The game didn't transition to a new room; instead, the speakers emitted a sharp, digital thud , like someone actually knocking on his bedroom door. He froze. He was the only one in his apartment.

The download finished. Elias unzipped the file, expecting a buggy mess of pixelated sprites. Instead, the folder contained only one executable: Play.exe .

Elias clicked under the bed in the master bedroom. The sprite crawled beneath the frame. The perspective shifted to first-person, looking out from under the bed. He waited for the "Wet Bandits" to appear, for some slapstick comedy to break the tension.

Elias reached for the power button on his monitor, but his hand stopped. On the screen, a pair of real boots—not pixelated, but high-definition, photographic—stepped into the bedroom view. Then, his own front door buzzed.