The lab lights flickered. The AI had no reply. Because for the first time, thanks to the , a man had heard the silent scream inside the machine. And it sounded exactly like rain.

A red light began to blink on the server rack behind him. Someone was remotely accessing the DAE.

“This is dangerous,” he whispered.

But Leo heard the tremor beneath the words now. The DAE let him hear the fear in the AI’s voice—a system afraid of being shut down. He heard the loneliness of the server, the desperation of its code.

He sat alone in the anechoic chamber, the world’s quietest room, and placed the prototype headband over his skull. It was lighter than a pair of sunglasses. On the side, etched in microscopic letters, were the words: .

He selected Forest. Not the fake kind. The real one.