The gate opened with a sound like a computer booting up from the 1990s, all mechanical whirring and digital processing, and beyond it was a city that looked like Apple had designed dystopia.
Everything chrome and glass and glowing circuits, absolutely pristine, and completely devoid of human life.
"So we're in a tech demo," I said, stepping through. "Great."
The transition was smooth, almost pleasant compared to the usual dimensional nausea, just a clean shift from London drizzle to artificial perfection.
And immediately, my shoulder felt empty.
Void's absence was like forgetting my phone at home, constant nagging awareness that something important was missing, except the something could obliterate threats and called me Mama.
The city stretched ahead, towers reaching toward a sky that couldn't decide if it was day or night, streets lined with glowing pathways like someone had installed RGB strips everywhere.
