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That evening, her shift ended. The neural cable unplugged with a wet, sucking sound. She floated in the dim red light of the regeneration tank, her real limbs atrophied, her real heart sluggish. A robot arm extended a protein wafer to her lips. She chewed. It tasted like nothing. Real taste had been overwritten years ago.

Across the system, 12,847 headsets ripped off. A woman in Berlin vomited. A man in Singapore wept without knowing why. The MIRVISH stock price dipped 0.3%. mirvish subscriber

The next morning, she was scheduled for Childhood Memory: First Day of Rain, Kyoto 2047. A popular rerun. The Viewers loved nostalgia. They loved to feel her mother’s hand, her first grazed knee, the exact shade of gray of her sky. That evening, her shift ended