At the interior of the bar and nightclub Sine Wave, Jamil Quartz-Noble finds herself kneeling among a few dozen bodies. Some separate flesh from blood, while others vibrate holographically, a humming static where once there was a thing like life.
She sighs and shakes her head before lifting a finger to her ear and speaking to someone she knows can't make this better.
"It's too late. It's live. All we can do now is damage control."
And with a swipe of her hand, the holographic bodies evaporate, no trace left for when PrivSec arrives to conduct their investigation. And in the DJ booth, a pop song plays on repeat—aggressively joyous and designed with a singular, final precision.