As he reached out to trigger a dialogue, the screen flickered. A soft, rhythmic humming filled his headset, sounding less like game audio and more like a human breath. The character didn't offer her usual scripted greeting. Instead, she looked directly into the camera, her digital eyes shimmering with an uncharacteristic depth.
Images in yearbooks blurred and rewrote themselves as if being retouched live. Some people disentangled—someone who had been Arielle's roommate now had an empty bed. Others merged into a collage of borrowed features. Students clustered and compared memories like archaeologists assembling shards.