He wasn't counting the days. He wasn't. He couldn't have told you, yesterday, exactly how many days it was until June 7th, 1989, he would have had to check the calendar and multiply. He wouldn't have started actually counting down until - March, maybe.

But then he stands a little too close to some kind of demonic bullshit, and he falls through the seams of the world, and a part of him realizes that he is in the wrong place, and in the back of his head, the multiplication gets done. Unasked-for, unignorable, a counter starts.

A man falls out of the ether. He seems to be an ordinary human, quite unarmed.