In the fluorescent hum of a 2006 basement, twelve-year-old Alex blew dust off a forgotten cassette case. Zathura: The Video Game — “Only for PlayStation 2.” No cover art, just embossed silver letters and a warning: Insert. Play. Survive.

He slid the disc in. The PS2’s laser stuttered, then spun up with a sound like a rattlesnake. No title screen. No menu. Just a single phrase in Courier New:

Respawn was instant, but wrong. He was now in his father’s body, looking down at his own child-self, finger on the trigger. The game was teaching him something terrible: to win, you must stop seeing monsters. Start seeing family.

“You have to go back,” the little brother in the memory said. “I’m not real. But he is.” He pointed to the real world – the basement, the sound of the divorce still echoing.

He pressed it. Nothing happened. A pop-up appeared: “You cannot undo. You can only move forward. Press X to accept.”