The Wistful Asylum
The rain does not fall here; it accumulates in the air, a suspended fog that tastes of ozone and old static, pressing against your skin with the weight of a held breath. You are standing in the Intake Hall of the Somnium Institute, a place that exists in the interstitial space between a hospital wing in Zurich and a server farm in Virginia, though you cannot see the wires or the walls, only the...
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