Then he noticed the clock on the kitchen wall. It matched his own. 03:14 AM.

On the screen, the camera moved into a small, cluttered office. He saw a desk covered in hard drives. He saw a glowing monitor. And he saw the back of a man’s head, illuminated by the blue light of the screen, wearing the same frayed hoodie Elias was wearing right now.

He moved his mouse. The camera in the "simulator" panned left. It wasn't a pre-rendered environment; the physics of the dust motes dancing in the light were perfect. He clicked a cabinet, and it swung open with a sound that didn't come from his speakers, but seemed to vibrate through his desk.

He panned the camera further left, past the kitchen, toward a hallway. The "simulator" began to chug, the frame rate dropping as if it were struggling to render something complex. He clicked the hallway door. It creaked open.

In the simulator, the "camera" was standing directly behind him.