Ryan made his choice. It was the only one he had. He walked to the main control console of the giant psychic machine. A single, ominous-looking port glowed with a soft, gray light.
It was a neural interface, a direct plug into the collective mind of the entire planet. He took a deep breath and connected the port on his own suit to the machine.
The world dissolved.
One moment, he was standing on a metal platform high above a humming engine. The next, he was… nowhere. He was floating in a vast, gray, endless space.
There was no up or down, no sun or stars. It was a world made of fog and quiet thoughts, the collective dream of millions of sleeping minds.
The ground, if you could call it that, was a soft, spongy gray material that seemed to absorb all sound. The sky was a lighter shade of gray, with no clouds or features.
