The laptop's bezel seemed to melt away, and the blue background flooded his room, washing over his desk, his posters, his bed. The chocobos were gone. In their place was a field of pixelated flowers. Not the pre-rendered backgrounds of the original game. These were sharp, hyper-detailed, and somehow breathing . The air smelled like rain and rust.

There was only one folder:

The plastic case was cracked, yellowed with age, and completely unlabeled. Leo found it at the bottom of a cardboard box at a garage sale, buried under a tangle of dead charging cables and a single, grimy Guitar Hero guitar. The old woman running the sale just waved a hand. "Fifty cents. The console broke years ago."