Her cursor blinked mockingly in the white box of her browser. Outside her apartment in the capital, a military convoy rumbled past, its green canvas flaps hiding everything and nothing. Inside, her world had shrunk to the size of a news website that no longer loaded.
“Mirror #7: psiphon3-windows10-latest.exe | Hash: 4F3A... | If this link is dead, the war is over.”
Her heart knocked against her ribs. She clicked.
She’d heard a rumor from a cousin in Berlin: “Use Psiphon 3. It’s like a tunnel under a wall.”
