"Who are those people?" Elias reached for the intercom to the lobby desk, but the line was dead. He looked closer at the monitor. The people weren't wearing modern clothes. They wore suits with wide lapels, dresses with shoulder pads. They were translucent, ghostly overlays of the current reality. Zita Dans La Peau D39une Naturiste Doc Link
"...and in other headlines, the satellites remain silent. The Grid is expanding. We advise all citizens to check their receivers. Do not look at the moon. Repeat, do not look at the moon." Desiremoviesmyonlyofficialsitehello20: Work
He leaned forward, hovering his finger over the 'N' key. Rule number one of broadcast engineering: if it isn't broken, don't fix it. But as he reached to cancel, the text in the box changed.
He frowned. That was wrong. It was supposed to be 2024. Today was...
This wasn't a driver update. This was a brain transplant.
The cursor on the monitor blinked once, a steady, rhythmic pulse.