
Seattle, 2050. The rain fell in relentless sheets, a silver-gray shroud over the city's towering spires and flickering neon signs. Dr. Nathan Blackwell trudged through the downpour, his trench coat soaked through, clinging to his lean frame like a second skin. The briefcase in his hand felt heavier than usual—not from its contents, a stack of encrypted files on the Grok 3 project, but from the weight of exhaustion. Ten years of his life poured into that AI, a system so advanced it could rewrite the rules of science and war. Tonight, he just wanted a hot shower and a few hours of sleep.
The apartment building loomed ahead, a sleek monolith of glass and steel nestled in the heart of Capitol Hill. Nathan swiped his keycard at the entrance, the scanner's green light cutting through the gloom. The elevator hummed as it carried him to the 23rd floor, and when the doors slid open, he stepped into the familiar quiet of his home. The lights were dim, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. A faint, sweet scent hung in the air—something floral, almost cloying. Odd, he thought. Elena didn't usually wear perfume like that.
"Elena?" His voice echoed softly in the open-plan living room. "I'm back."
Nous publions uniquement les avis qui respectent les conditions requises. Consultez nos conditions pour les avis.