In a world optimized to perfection, Rhea steps into a space that once felt like home—only to find it reshaped by technology, curated memories, and a version of Nico she barely recognizes. Their reunion is anything but warm. As she grapples with the seductive ease of life with a NeuroLume chip, Nico becomes both mirror and cautionary tale.

“The first taste is the rebrand,” he says, warning her of the slippery slope toward polished perfection.

But Rhea isn’t ready to let go of the mess, the noise, the parts of herself still jagged. Not yet.

“I want to know who I am when no one’s tuning the signal,” she says.

This chapter explores the tension between raw identity and artificial clarity—between being heard and being real. And in the quiet aftermath of confrontation, Rhea finds the most human thing she can do is hum—off-key, unfiltered, and entirely her own.