: The software doesn't model the world; it releases suppressed forces.

The screen didn't show a menu or a map. It just turned a deep, swirling gray. Then, the sound hit. It wasn't coming from his speakers; it was tearing through the room. A localized cyclone erupted from the center of his desk, scattering papers like frantic birds. The "Windy One" wasn't a game. It was a doorway.

The progress bar was a jagged line, crawling through the static of his monitor. His apartment was silent, the air heavy and still. Outside, the city of Seattle was experiencing a rare, breathless heatwave. Not a single leaf stirred on the trees.