Elias looked at his reflection in the empty glass. For a terrifying second, his face wasn't his own. It was a composite—the raised eyebrow of a reaction YouTuber, the sad smile of a cancelled sitcom dad, the thousand-yard stare of a fan waiting for a sequel that would never come.

Vesper, the NPC, tilted her head. For a microsecond, her eyes flickered with something that wasn't code—curiosity? Pity? Then she smiled the pre-programmed smile and slid a bottle toward him.

Elias left the bottle on the bar. He walked back through the velvet curtain, into the quiet vinyl café where a real person was playing a real, out-of-tune piano. Outside, the rain was wet and un-curated.