Blaire Ivory: Chrome

Blaire tapped a floating screen. A schematic of a human body appeared, overlaid with glowing blue lines. “You were hit by an autonomous freight hauler at 11:47 PM. Your organic body was, to use a technical term, soup . But you had a Neural Archive subscription. Top tier. We downloaded you twelve seconds before brain death.”

“Where am I?” His voice echoed strangely.

He read the fine print. It was worse than any loan shark’s deal. But the alternative was the void. The real void, not the digital one. chrome blaire ivory

He pulled on the coat. The ivory of his face reflected in a polished steel wall—handsome, cold, and eternal.

Leo’s heart—or whatever pumped now—lurched. “What?” Blaire tapped a floating screen

He was a weapon now. A beautiful, indebted ghost. And somewhere out in the rain, a driver was still breathing organic air.

He woke on a table. Not a hospital bed—a table . Cold, seamless, and gleaming like liquid mercury. Chrome. Your organic body was, to use a technical term, soup

“You’re in the Chrysalis,” she said. “And you’re dead. Legally speaking.”