Elias reached for the power cord, but his hand wouldn't move. He looked down and saw his skin beginning to pixelate, turning into the same grey, grainy texture of the corrupted file. He wasn't just watching the archive; he was becoming it.

The screen didn't show a video. It showed a high-angle security feed of a room. A room with a desk, a cluttered shelf of old tech manuals, and a man sitting in a swivel chair with his back to the camera.

Outside the windowless room, the server fans roared to life, beginning the long process of uploading the rest of him.