Vid_20230110_104327_222.mp4

As the gate swings wide, the camera pans to the right. There, hidden by a trick of the topography and the morning mist, is a bridge. It doesn't span a river or a canyon. It sits in the middle of a flat, dusty basin, arching toward nothing, its stone pillars glowing in the weak January sun.

Elias turns back, a strange, peaceful smile on his face. He opens his mouth to say something—perhaps the secret of where the bridge leads—but the video cuts to black. The file ends at exactly 22 seconds, leaving the viewer wondering if he ever stepped off the other side. VID_20230110_104327_222.mp4

In the frame stands Elias. He isn’t looking at the camera; he’s looking at a rusted gate blocking an access road. He’s wearing a heavy canvas jacket and holding a vintage brass key that looks like it belongs to a cathedral, not a backcountry fence. As the gate swings wide, the camera pans to the right