On the screen, a figure walked into the frame. It was him. Younger, maybe nineteen. He wore a faded hoodie he'd forgotten he owned. He grabbed a can of Boss coffee, paid in cash, and left. Natsu remembered that night. He had been up late editing a friend's indie horror short. He remembered the cold air, the clink of the can.
A second later, a tiny, shimmering thread of light, like a strand of fiber-optic cable, extended from the device and attached itself to the back of young Natsu's neck. The young man didn't flinch. He just kept walking, sipping his coffee. The thread stretched, then snapped, retracting back into the device. The man in the black coat smiled, turned, and walked out of the frame. Download - Layarxxi.pw.Natsu.Igarashi.has.been...
“You are already in the archive. Would you like to download yourself?” On the screen, a figure walked into the frame
He hadn't downloaded it. Not intentionally. He wore a faded hoodie he'd forgotten he owned
He deleted the bump on his neck with a sterilized x-acto knife, packed a bag, and walked out into the Tokyo night. Behind him, his computer screen flickered. A new file was already downloading.
He double-clicked the file.
“Your entire life has been a pilot episode. Download complete. Awaiting notes from the network.”