"Yet another digital chimera," she lamented, fingers dancing on the glassy surface. "Invisible wires twitch and dazzle, promising intimacy from a distance."
"Here, there, everywhere," murmured the spectral voice, an ironic mirage suspended in circuitry. "I am the echo, not of the room, but of the unspoken."
"Words once so tangible, now mere luminous shadows," he replied, bemused. "We converse in a syntax of light, irony woven into the glow."
Imagine a world where whispers are electric songs, and silence is a crowded place. Will the quantum algorithms discern the human from the hum?
Enter the Whispering Lights Traverse Silent Hallways