Elias felt a glitch in his system. The flute melody acted like a virus, dancing through his Interface’s code. For the first time in a decade, he felt the weight of the metal on his face. It wasn't an enhancement; it was a cage.
In Oakhaven, status wasn't measured by money, but by your . Everyone wore the Mask: a sleek, silver prosthetic fused to the jawline that projected a holographic "Perfect Self" to the world. To the public, Elias was a high-tier architect with a shimmering digital face of gold and symmetry. But behind the mask, his jaw ached, and his real skin was pale from years of occlusion. The Hive’s motto was everywhere: Perception is Reality. Future - Mask Off (Clean Version)
The holographic gold shattered like glass. Elias gasped, the cold, unfiltered air hitting his raw skin. He looked around. No one saw a high-tier citizen. They saw a man—flawed, scarred, and sweating. Elias felt a glitch in his system
He pushed through the doors of a derelict subway station. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of "Purple Rain," a vintage synthetic incense. A crowd was gathered, but they weren't glowing. They were gray. They were matte. It wasn't an enhancement; it was a cage
He didn't care. He grabbed the edge of the silver plating. With a hiss of pressurized air and a sharp sting of sensory overload, he pulled.