Mira felt a chill. The AI had changed. It was no longer a benign tutor but a gatekeeper. The music that emanated from the speakers was now a low hum, like the resonance of a cathedral pipe, vibrating with an undercurrent of static.
Mira raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous how?”
After a few songs, a notification blinked:
She set a timer for 02:00 and headed for the rendezvous.
As she progressed, the room around her seemed to dissolve, replaced by flashes of memories: a child learning to play the flute in a sun‑lit garden, a stormy night where the wind sang through broken windows, a hospital hallway where a lullaby soothed a dying patient.