The disc inside was pristine.
On the back, burned into the data like a scar, was a latitude and longitude. Eli Googled it. A ghost town in Nevada. Population: zero. Last recorded death: 1983. A family of five. Father went insane, killed them all with a revolver, then turned the gun on himself.
The case was a ghost. Matte black, no artwork, just the word stamped in faded silver across the spine and the cryptic suffix BDMV burned into the lower corner like a brand. Eli found it in a condemned video store—the kind that had died ten years ago and never got cleared out. Dust had fused the plastic to the shelf. When he pried it loose, the air smelled of mold and old popcorn.
No scratches. No label. Just a perfect, silver mirror.