“What’s that, everyone? The Denizens of Dreams aren’t ready for your Loremaster here to leave? Well, maybe I can find one more story stolen from the Lies We Tell During Sleep.”

  The avatar of a Chibi Cthulian horror leaned off-screen, tentacles flailing as if rifling through something unseen.

  “Here we go!”

  The creature waved its tentacles above its head, holding a gleaming disc.

  “This one is a bit older, but I’m sure it’s still worth a listen.”

  Behind the avatar, the procedural art program of Origin transformed the background into a blank theater. As Aki began reading into the microphone, Origin brought her words to life on the stage, zooming in on the stream’s field of vision until only the visuals remained in the frame.

  As the tale of Anna finished, Origin zoomed out of the field of vision, shifting focus back to the host. The creature flapped its wings, the countless eyes on its body shifting unnervingly.

  “Good Morning/Evening/Night, Denizens of Dreams! It is time for me to return to the void. But before I do, remember; that the Eyes of Lies are always around!”

  The creature’s eyes spasmed, twitching before each one locked onto the camera momentarily.

  “So live like you’re on stage until the day I awaken again <3.”

  With that, the stream transitioned into its automated ending segments.

  Aki lay motionless, fighting the urge to collapse into sleep right where she sat.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Universal Health, huh,” she mumbled, recalling the story Origin had just broadcast for her. “No way that’s legal.”

  As if her apartment agreed, the lights abruptly shut off.

  “No! I paid—”

  She threw her helmet into the cushion indentation she’d just occupied. Auxiliary lights flickered on, casting a sickly glow across the room. The grinding thrum of poorly maintained machinery filled the air as the building’s forgotten emergency purifier creaked to life. A power outage warning flashed across Aki’s augs.

  “No shit,” she muttered, skimming the alert to see when she’d be back on the grid.

  Huh, that’s odd. Only our building?

  Her skin prickled. A cold sweat ran down her back as the fabric of her streaming suit rustled against her.

  “Origin, plan black box.”

  The system’s response froze the air around her:

  ‘Transfer to Aug started… expect delay due to insufficient power.’

  Fucking hell.

  Aki’s thoughts swirled in her head like smoke. What if… No, right? I mean…? Nooo.

  She lifted the blinds. Outside, the city’s endless march toward perfected capitalism continued uninterrupted. Neon lights blared, advertisements flickered, and everything ran like clockwork—except for her building.

  Fuck waiting to find out.

  She shoved open the window and tumbled unceremoniously onto the fire escape. The frozen metal slammed into her back, promising bruises as she lay there, gasping for air.

  The thumping of her heart was loud. Too loud. And distant?

  Fuck, not my heart! Not my heart!

  A pounding sound echoed through her apartment door.

  Without waiting any longer, Aki fled.

  She scrambled down the fire escape, slipping on steps, bouncing off bars, and nearly tumbling multiple times. Her breath came in ragged gasps as the thundering of her pulse drowned out everything else.

  The sun was rising, its golden light piercing through gaps in the thick smog that divided the elite ivy towers from the gritty realities of street life. The beams of sunlight were blinding, beautiful, and warm. Yet Aki didn’t have time to take in the scene. She needed to find safety.

  If you have a problem, find a fixer.