The Algorithm's Garden
We called him the Shepherd. He didn't arrive with a sword or a crown, but with a set of optimized spreadsheets and a smile that never reached his eyes. He found us in the gutters of the Lower East Side—the broken, the redundant, the forgotten—and he offered us a place in his 'New Garden.' At first, it felt like a miracle. The Shepherd provided clean beds, synthetic protein that actually tasted...
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