I was the last person to edit Wikipedia on March 12, 2025 — at exactly 03:14 UTC.
The article was “List of unassigned IP addresses.” I added one line:
“192.0.0.13 — RESERVED FOR THE DECEASED”
The edit was reverted within thirty seconds.
The reverting bot left no summary.
Instead, my talk page received a PNG.
It was a screenshot of my own desktop — taken three seconds after the revert.
Cursor mid-click, coffee mug in frame, reflection in the monitor: my back — but no face.
I unplugged the Ethernet.
The PNG changed to a GIF.
Same frame, only now the reflection turned its head toward me.
I slammed the laptop shut.
The GIF became an MP4.
File name: 192_0_0_13.webm
Duration: 00:00:13
Thumbnail: my bedroom, ceiling angle, 03:14 AM.
I never saved that video.
It saved itself — to the cloud, to the SSD, to the BIOS chip I didn’t know had storage.
At 03:13 every night since, the cursor drags a new file onto the desktop:
13_sec_left.png
13_sec_left.gif
13_sec_left.mp4
Each clip is one second shorter.
Each reflection takes one step closer.
Last night the video was 00:00:01.
The reflection’s hand reached through the screen glass — and left a fingerprint on the inside.
Tonight I’ll pull the battery at 03:13:59.
If you see this post, set an alarm for 03:14 AM UTC.
Open any browser.
Type 192.0.0.13 in the address bar.
Hit Enter.
If the page loads blank — close the lid.
If the page loads your desktop — do not turn around.
The 13th second is reserved for you.