Mina sat up. She picked up the orange peel from her bedside table. She placed it on her tongue and swallowed it whole.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then Mina’s body went rigid, and her mouth opened in a perfect, silent O. Elias watched the monitor. Her neural activity, which normally looked like a shattered kaleidoscope, began to spin—not into chaos, but into a slow, deliberate braid. Three strands. Then seven. Then forty-nine. -Nonsane- Adicktion Therapy 7
The monitor beeped. Mina’s neural braid had finished weaving. But instead of forming a single, healthy strand, it had woven itself into a shape that looked exactly like his own face. Mina sat up
He didn’t know if he ever had been.