Rtgi — 0.17.0.2

It wasn't a hologram. Holograms were thin, fake. This was reality having a second thought. The air folded like a page turning, and suddenly, he was there.

The image flickered. Her father's face turned toward her. His eyes—made of pure, reconstructed radiance—seemed to focus on something just beyond her shoulder. rtgi 0.17.0.2

"Real-time Global Illumination," she whispered, rolling the words like a prayer. "Build 0.17.0.2." It wasn't a hologram

[rtgi 0.17.0.2: Reconstruction complete. Fidelity: 99.97%. Temporal offset: -3.14 years.] " she whispered

[rtgi 0.17.0.2: Warning. Photonic recursion detected. Unbounded loop.]

She walked closer. Her hand passed through his shoulder—warm, she swore it felt warm—but met no resistance. Just a tingle of static electricity.

Then the space over the empty chair rippled.