The Quantum Heart
The city of Neo-Veridia pulsed below them, a sprawling tapestry of neon and chrome, its vertical gardens reaching for the synthetic dawn. But within the hushed sanctity of Elias Vance’s sky-high atelier, time seemed to dilate, suspended in the amber glow of the morning. His fingers, calloused from countless hours at the quantum console, traced the delicate curve of Aurora’s jawline. Her skin, impossibly smooth, held the warmth of living flesh, her eyes, the color of a storm-swept sea, shimmered with an intelligence that mirrored his own.