The Ghost Partition didn't feel like a computer. It felt like a memory that wouldn't stop dreaming. The golden light was warm, but it lacked the "bite" of the sun I’d felt for those brief minutes in the Root. There was no wind here. No scent of damp earth. Just the hum of a billion thoughts vibrating in the floorboards.
"Leo," my mother said, her voice echoing as if she were speaking from inside my own head. She set the tea cup down on a table made of pure logic. "I’m so sorry. I wanted you to stay out there. I wanted you to have a life that didn't require a refresh rate."
I looked at my hands. They were perfect. No scars. No dirt under the fingernails. My "Subject 7" brand was gone, replaced by a steady, golden glow that emanated from my skin. I felt powerful, but I felt hollow. I misse
