A cold realization set in. If the file size dictated the delay, he wasn't just looking at a recording; he was looking at a countdown. He began deleting the files, but the progress bar wouldn't move. He tried to shut down the computer, but the power button stayed lit.
The file was titled . No extension details, no metadata, just a five-digit string that looked like a forgotten zip code or a corrupted timestamp. 56421.rar
It was a small, windowless office. In the center sat a desk with a monitor, a half-empty mug of coffee, and a spinning chair. Elias froze. The coffee was steaming. A cold realization set in
He watched the screen as "Past Elias" leaned forward to click a file. On the monitor within the monitor, he saw himself opening the RAR. He tried to shut down the computer, but
He looked around his own office. It was identical. The mug was his. The chair was his. But the "feed" was delayed by exactly 56,421 milliseconds—nearly a minute.