Saving North from the Mist
You stand at the edge of a swirling fog bank where normal navigation fails. In your hand sits a simple brass compass with its needle locked firmly on North. You need to preserve this specific direction, but this fog is notorious for swallowing signals without a trace.
The turbulence inside is too intense for a delicate instrument. If you walk straight in, the pressure will shatter the glass and spin the needle wildly. To save the information, you must do something counterintuitive. You have to take the compass apart before you take a single step.
You pry the device open and separate its parts. You anchor the magnetic needle safely at the precise border of the fog, leaving it behind. Then, you take the empty brass casing and walk deep into the swirling mist. The compass is no longer a single object; it is now two separated fragments.
To an observer, the direction seems to have vanished. The needle points blindly at the mist, and the casing in your hand is just empty metal. Yet the "North" is not lost. It is suspended in the invisible link between the stationary part and the moving part.
Eventually, the fog recedes. The empty casing is pushed back until it rejoins the needle. You snap the housing back over the pin, and immediately, the needle swings to lock onto North again. This confirms that even in deep chaos like a black hole, information is not destroyed but simply stored in the connection.