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The screen went black. Not the black of a crash—the black of a room with no light. Then, softly, grayscale shapes emerged. His own office, rendered in noise and phosphor. But it was real time . He could see the cooling coffee mug behind him. The dust motes on his monitor. The faint outline of a figure standing in the hallway outside his door.

> tracking initiated. 1.7 seconds lag.

> do not delete. do not ignore. you will need to see what follows.

But the timestamp had.