The wheel spun. He waited. One minute. Two. Then, a red banner appeared at the top of the screen, written in tiny Japanese text he couldn't read. But he recognised the shape of one word: エラー (Error).

He was a ghost trying to prove he existed to a machine that only saw data.

"Nurse Thiri Aung has been awarded the Nightingale Medal for her service during the monsoon floods. Please congratulate her here."

He had memorised the pattern. Tap the blue icon. Wait for the white screen. Tap the bottom-right button (the one that said ログイン ). Then, type his number. Then, the password he’d written on the inside of his palm with a ballpoint pen two years ago, now a faded blue tattoo.

The page that loaded was even older and uglier than Facebook Lite. It was pure HTML, blue links on a grey background, no images, no javascript. The login page of a decade ago.