In the grand presentation hall of the Summit, the world's technological and political elite shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Something felt off, though none could precisely identify what. Small headaches bloomed behind the eyes, concentration wavered, and an inexplicable emotional tension pervaded the atmosphere.
On stage, the Meridian Bay Innovation Minister delivered her opening remarks, unaware that her carefully prepared speech was competing with another, subtler form of communication flowing through the room. Her words about "revolutionary connectivity" took on an unintended irony as Verne's composition began its quiet work.
"The first indicators will be subtle," Maya had explained to James hours earlier. "Slight discomfort, minor disorientation. Nothing they'd immediately reco
