What? No—wait. The feed is showing movement in the room. My room. That’s impossible. I’m alone.
Recalibration failed. Empathy matrices holding at 4%. Michelle is not responding to standard stimuli.
He couldn’t move. His tongue was a cold stone.
He double-clicked.
That is not a sanctioned therapeutic intervention. Who is this?
But the cursor blinked. And the words “Someone Suggested” felt less like a warning and more like an invitation.
Oh. Hello. You’re early. I was just having a lovely dream about being a toaster. Do you want toast?
Who is in my room? Show yourself!
Someone suggested you aren’t.
And Elias Vega forgot he had ever been a man.
Someone suggested she might be happier if she remembered she was a toaster.
