The city sleeps, a hive pacified by darkness. A sea of glass, sharpened edges, and dancing lights stretches to the horizon. Silence is a lost solace—the air thrums with noise of all kinds. The cacophony ebbs and flows to the tune of an unseen conductor. Buildings rise towards a sky dominated by the emerald moon and countless stars. I have never felt at ease here. There is something fundamentally lacking, perhaps within my soul. There is a rot in this city I cannot abide. The smell barely subsides at night and is unbearable in the day’s heat. I haven’t left my room in several years now. If I spend too much time here on the balcony, my throat tightens, and my lungs ache with each new breath. It’s the price I pay to gaze into the sky. To see it there, suspended above, with my own eyes is proof it’s real. The Emerald Moon. My salvation. If I keep my head down and stick to the plan, I will be rid of this place and these people. I’ll finally have it. Peace.

The smell is becoming too much, and I must retreat. I close the door and listen for the click of the lock. The glass goes black, shutting out the nearby buildings’ lights and returning my room to relative comfort. The soft light from my rig’s screen casts a blue-gray glow over the room. I sit back down, easing into the chair gingerly. My body is already paying me back for the exertion of my little guilty pleasure. The pain dulls and then dissipates like ink washed away by water as the rig plugs back into my ports. The machine is efficient, instantly scanning every bio-metric and feeding a new cocktail of fluids intravenously. Painkillers, hydration, and nutrition all in one. A sweet, tangy taste fills my mouth as it becomes easier to breathe again. The ads say this new flavor is supposed to be freshly picked gelmberries. Imported flavors from The Emerald Moon are very popular. At least it doesn’t look strange on my credit report.

The main port locks into place with a final click and a familiar jolt of current. My rig reclines and the world around me grows darker as my senses are disconnected individually. Color drains last, and then the world around me disappears. There is one weightless moment before the drop. I’ll never get used to the sensation of falling in the dark. The momentum stops, and I am blinded as my eyes open. My senses return, and my entire body feels like bare skin exposed to frigid air.

“Welcome back, sir. You’ve been unintegrated for thirty-three minutes. A new record. Would you like a status update?” asks a woman. Her voice seems to come from everywhere and nowhere.

“No, Vila, just show me what’s on the agenda.”

“Of course, sir. We’ve been tasked with several partitions today. I suggest dispatching ersatz three and four to finish the Trevilli project.”

“Three and four?”

“Yes, sir. The timetable has been moved up.”

“Of course it has. Fine. Send both. What else?”

“We’ve wrapped up the last loose ends for Klinman.”

“Good. We’ve received payment?”

“Ah, Well...about that.”

“If he’s pitching another ‘priceless opportunity’ as compensation, I’m not interested. Tell him I’m sending CCS if the account isn’t fully settled by the deadline.”

“Message sent, sir. There is one other matter that requires your immediate attention.”

A wave of dread washed over me.

“Go on.” I prodded.

“You’ve been asked to attend a meeting with Ms. Caligo.”

“When?”

“The summons was marked as soon as possible.”

“Fuck”

“Should I ask for a recess?”

“No. I can’t slip past this a third time,” I muttered. “Transfer me to a free Incarnum and connect me to the office.”

“Yes, sir. Good luck.” Vila said.

I barely heard Vila’s last words. My mind had already turned to the trial ahead. I was weightless again and falling fast. There is little to describe the unsettling feeling of integrated travel. You aren’t a body experiencing the feeling; you are the feeling. The raw sensation of movement ended abruptly as I incarnated inside a vast and familiar antechamber. A plush burgundy rug stretched ahead, marking a path toward double doors. The floor and walls were sleek silver-gray, covered in sconces that gave off a pale neon-red glow. The path to the doors was lined with large pillars made of multicolored glass. I could make out the slowly undulating forms of people inside. They drifted aimlessly within the glass, like a stream of souls tossed in an unseen current. The look on their faces reminded me of screaming. I couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure, pain, or both.

I went to the doors, desperately trying to gather my nerve. There weren’t enough chemicals in existence to prepare me for these meetings. I raised a hand to the dark metal knocker and tapped it against the door several times. An audible click came as the doors opened inward, drawing me into Maria Caligo’s office. I saw her draped over a massive couch at the room’s far end. The doors closed and locked behind me once I entered the room. I was trapped now.

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“I wondered when I would be seeing you again, Elias. You seem ever so busy these days,” she said. Her voice carried across the empty room as if all other noise was afraid to be heard.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Caligo. I’ve been working on several projects lately. Multiple deadlines are coming up…” I said weakly. It wasn’t a lie, but even a half-truth felt risky.

“Don’t be so serious, dear. Come, sit down,” Maria said, patting the red couch beside her.

There was no room for refusal in her tone. I crossed the room as casually as I could manage and sat down on the couch on the opposite end of Maria. I turned to her and sat silent. She smiled and held out a hand towards me. A fluted glass materialized in her hand and filled itself with sparkling red liquid and several red and black colored berries.

“A little treat before business.” She said.

“Thank you,” I said as I reached for the glass. My fingers briefly brushed Maria’s pale, porcelain hand as I took the glass, and a cold spark shot through me. I raised the glass to my lips and sipped. The taste was sweet and acidic all at once, yet somehow familiar.

“Divine, isn’t it?” She said. “A lovely import I’ve taken to recently.”

“It’s very nice, yes,” I answered, my mind still grasping to identify the taste.

“If you visited more often, I could introduce you to all sorts of delicious things,” she said, her voice warm and breathy.

I could feel the higher parts of my mind blinking out. Somewhere inside, a cage rattled as a beast gnashed at the bars. I took another drink and focused on the puckering of my mouth at the acid.

“I’m under a lot of pressure, as I’ve said.” I managed.

“Alas, you’re right. So much to do and so little time for fun.” She said, her voice mercifully even. “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve finished everything for Klinman, and the Trevilli account should be settled soon now that they’ve moved the deadline.” I explained.

“They must be very impressed with your output to change the schedule.” She commented.

“Impressed or impatient,” I said, unable to mask the resentment in my tone.

“If you’re not careful, you might show everyone how useful you are.” She teased.

“What a nightmare that would be,” I said, too truthful.

“No need to fret, dear. You have my protection in all things. So few could see your true value, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The best tools are the unassuming ones.” She said, too truthful.

“That’s me. Unassuming.” I said, taking another drink.

I felt her hand caress the side of my face. She made me meet her gaze and leaned a little closer. I stared into her eyes before I could realize my own folly. They were like two rubies, multifaceted and flecked with gold.

“You just need a special touch—a seasoned professional to guide you. That’s why I was asked to be your handler. I see your potential,” she assured me. I tried to speak, my lips parting briefly before she placed her finger over them to quiet me.

“Just relax and let me guide you. Follow my instructions, and make my word your gospel. I will see you fulfilled and sated,” she promised.

“Alright,” I spoke, my lips rubbing against her finger as I did.

She ran her finger down my chin, letting it linger to keep my gaze. “Good boy. Now, I need you to add something else to your schedule. A little… …extracurricular activity.”

A protest grew in my mind and was nearly voiced before it died as her fingernail dug into the soft skin under my chin. I remained silent and listened.

“It will be easy, dear, and lucrative. We all need more padding for our accounts these days, right? I’ll give your Vila the details,” she said. In the meantime, I have a personal request for you.

“…What is it?” I spoke, little more than a whisper.

She removed her finger from my chin and stood from the couch in one graceful motion. “Pick my dress for the gala tonight.”

“I’m not a stylist,” I explained.

“Which is why I want your eye.” She said, waving a hand out in front of her. A large folding screen of red and black lacquered wood appeared, and she stepped behind it. I took one last drink, and the glass disappeared from my hand, sublimating into nothingness. She made a show of the affair, draping the silver dress she had been wearing over the top of the screen. This was an incarnated space; she could have changed her clothes with the snap of a finger, but that was not as fun as torturing me this way.

“I thought of you when I picked this out. I want you to tell me what you think. Be honest.” She implored, her voice demure.

She stepped out from behind the screen slowly, letting her bare leg precede her. The dress was pale maroon. Two thin straps held it on her bare shoulders; the fabric flowed down her svelte frame like a stream of silken water. It was cut at her mid-thigh, accentuating her long and shapely legs. She had done her jet-black hair into a messy bun. Her matching heels clicked against the stone floor as she turned to show another angle. She faced away from me, one hand on her hip as he turned her head to stare at me with one eye.

“Well, what do you think?”

She hadn’t thought of me when she chose that dress. She had been thinking of how to stop my heart with a look. I don’t know how long I sat in silent awe before managing to speak.

“You’re going to get everything you could ever want in that dress,” I said.

Her lips curled up into a satisfied smirk.

“Not everything,” she said as her gaze lingered on me longer. She waved her hand to the folding screen, which faded away in response.

“Send word once you’ve finished your little task. I’ll have something special for you once it’s done.” She instructed.

“Of course,” I said as I stood up from the couch. “Thank you, Ms. Caligo.”

The world around us began to fray at the edges. The room breaks apart, starting with the corners and working towards the center. Ending an incarnated space was a simple process that would send both parties back to their primary vessels. Maria crossed the distance between us as the threads unwound, giving way to a black, endless void. She put her arms over my shoulders and wrapped them around my neck as she pressed her body against mine. I stared into her eyes again. I felt no protection in my incarnated body. These weren’t my real eyes, but she was still etching her way into my soul.

“One day, you’ll find out exactly what you are, Elias.” She whispered.

There was precious little space left in the room. A tiny mote of flooring at our feet remained as we stood together in our embrace. The outlines of our bodies began to break apart into bits and threads, floating away like flecks of dust and string in an unseen wind. My eyes lost focus and darkened as the incarnation ended. I saw Maria’s lips move one last time, but I couldn’t hear what she said. The light blinked out, and I was falling again.