19
AN ART GALLERY. That’s all it was. One bored looking receptionist sat behind a counter. This was what all those people were lining up to see?
Cyberpunk and dark fantasy artworks were on display on one wall, Renaissance classics on another. Japanese art and calligraphy took up the main back wall—stunning in its seeming simplicity. This was a nice place sure, but one worth struggling to be seen at?
The bored attendant caught Joon’s eye. ‘Sabi’s in the studio,’ was all she said.
She pressed a button and a panel between two paintings in the middle of the far wall slid open. Joon led me through.
Inside was a woman with her back to us. She was tall, lithe, fluid in her movements. She crouched over a lifeless avatar in progress, adding color here and adjusting lines there. Joon stood sile
