You are not supposed to have episode 3 yet. Delete it.

The screen filled with static, then resolved into a wide shot of a modest living room. Beige couch. Worn oak coffee table. A framed print of Hokusai’s Great Wave on the wall. His living room. Exactly his.

But this Leo on-screen was older. Maybe five years. Hair grayer, eyes deeper set. He was watching something off-camera. Waiting.

The camera slowly panned to the empty doorway. Nothing but dust motes dancing in the evening light. Then, faintly, a shadow began to form—two shadows, actually. A tall man and a shorter woman holding his hand.

He was knee-deep in a 3 a.m. rabbit hole, scrubbing through a neglected folder named _incoming on his NAS drive. Most of it was junk—old trailers, mislabeled documentaries, a Japanese game show from 2009. But one file stood out, its title crisp and odd among the debris:

He didn't watch a show called Poppas.House . He was sure of it. No memory of queueing it, no seed ratio, no note in his log. Yet there it was: 743 MB. 43 minutes 17 seconds. Encoded yesterday.

Episode 3: The Visitor Who Never Knocks