Neural Drift
ACT I: THE HOOK The rain in Neo Seattle didn't fall so much as it materialized—constantly, without warning, turning the neon glow of a thousand holographic billboards into watercolor smears that bled across every surface. I stood under the awning of my office on Level 47 of the Mercer Building, watching it happen, waiting for the call I knew was coming. It came at 2:14 AM, through an encrypted...
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