Behind him, his bedroom door—which he had locked ten minutes ago—was standing wide open. And on the floor, perfectly centered in the doorway, sat an identical laptop, its screen glowing with the same grainy feed of the rain-washed street.
In the center of the frame, a person in a heavy grey coat stood perfectly still, staring directly into the camera lens. They held up a small, hand-drawn sign. On it was written a single line of text: AgADVgADQMfxVg.mkv
The person in the grey coat on the screen began to walk toward the camera. Behind him, his bedroom door—which he had locked
Elias frowned. The timestamp in the corner read: . "That’s... right now," he whispered. perfectly centered in the doorway