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The cursor blinked steadily at the end of the search bar, reflecting in Arthur’s tired eyes. It was 3:00 AM, and the digital archive he was digging through was a mess of broken links and corrupted directories. Then, he found it. A single, unassuming hyperlink sitting at the bottom of an abandoned forum page. Arthur clicked it.

Subject is predictable. Follows the same routine daily. Leaves at 7:45 AM. Returns at 6:15 PM. Download File 11-02-23-monta.pdf

Arthur’s heart hammered against his ribs. That was his exact schedule from three years ago. He scrolled down to the second page. It was a collection of grainy, black-and-white photographs taken from the treeline across the street from his driveway. They showed him scraping ice off his windshield, checking his mail, and laughing on the phone. The cursor blinked steadily at the end of

Arthur froze. Behind him, the floorboards of his old house gave a slow, familiar creak. A single, unassuming hyperlink sitting at the bottom

Right where his house stood on the grid, there was a red X. Surrounding the X were several handwritten notes in the margins, scrawled in an elegant, spidery cursive.

The browser's loading wheel spun lazily before the download completed. He clicked the file to open it, expecting a technical manual or a boring corporate report. Instead, his screen filled with a high-resolution, hand-drawn map of his own neighborhood.