Bing Maps 
He double-clicked.
The faceless Steve raised one blocky arm and pointed directly at Leo.
Leo knew better. He was a computer science major, for crying out loud. He knew that “Alpha 0.0.0” wasn’t a real thing. The earliest versions of Minecraft were barely a tech demo—a handful of dirt blocks, a gray sky, and a player character that looked like a reject from a PS1 game.
Leo scrambled backward, his chair tipping over. His hand hit the power strip. He yanked the cord from the wall. The monitor stayed on. The faceless Steve tilted his head, a cracking sound like ice breaking on a lake.
The download was instantaneous. No progress bar, no confirmation. Just a single .exe file named a0_0_0.jar that appeared in his Downloads folder with a timestamp that read December 31, 1969 .
When he opened his eyes, the screen was normal. His PC was off. His glass of water was still. The only evidence was a single, perfect cube of dirt sitting on his keyboard, and a new file on his desktop.
It was a shortcut. And the target path read: C:\Users\Leo\This_World .
It was Steve. But not the Steve from the trailers. This Steve had no face. Just a blank, beige mask where his features should be. He stood motionless on a pillar of bedrock that stretched up into infinity.
