“Leo the Lancer,” the machine buzzes. “Thirty-seven consecutive wins. Your ego is a high score. Insert disk to continue.”
He lands on a flat, infinite plane. A skybox of rolling green hills and a sun that is clearly a JPEG.
A siren blares. The skybox tears open, and a creature slithers out—half Street Fighter ’s Akuma, half corrupted data. Its face is the distorted smile of a deleted save file.