The doors closed. The train began to move.

"Don't do it," whispered Maya, sliding into the seat next to him. Her breath fogged the edge of the monitor. "You remember what happened to Jun."

Outside the window, the real world scrolled past in reverse: his childhood home shrinking, his dog running backward, an argument with his mother un-happening. The speed gauge climbed past 300 km/h. Then 500. Then a number that looked like a glitch.

Leo did remember. Jun had downloaded the game three weeks ago. The next morning, he was found sitting perfectly still on a park bench, eyes wide open, muttering departure times. "Shinjuku… 12:05… no stops…" He hadn't blinked since.

The train sped into a tunnel. The lights went out. When they returned, Leo was no longer in his seat.