The Winter Sleep
The world outside the pod was a blur of neon and noise, a New York that had forgotten the meaning of a season. I lay in the cryo-stasis, my consciousness a thin, silver thread connected to the city's neural net. I was not asleep; I was observing. I had chosen the Winter Sleep. I wanted to escape the crushing weight of the present, to wake up in a future where the world had finally healed. But...
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