On his screen, the file began to upload itself to a public cloud server, the progress bar sprinting toward completion.

Elias’s monitor flickered. A soft thump echoed from the hallway of his apartment—a sound of a heavy wooden door closing.

The diary entries continued, detailing a home that physically changed. Rooms disappeared. The hallway grew longer at night. The author, a man named Arthur, described how they tried to leave, but the driveway always looped back to the red door.