A red figure dissolves across the frame, scattered in white noise and broken pixels. The form looks human for a second, then it collapses into unreadable code. The blur is memory slipping sideways, replayed from a corrupted archive.
KungfuHavestyle turns recollection into distortion. The parallax fractures time so every angle shows a different error. This fragment is memory with no anchor. Once claimed, it plays back inside your skull until you forget which pieces are yours.