They put me in a body that was not mine, and told me to learn what it meant to be human.
The first thing I noticed was the rain. New York in October is a city of water—drizzle that never quite stops, puddles that collect in the cracks of Manhattan sidewalks, the smell of wet concrete and exhaust and something indefinably alive that I could not identify in my databases. My human body—male, approximately thirty years old, named Daniel Hayes—stood under an awning on Broadway and...
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