Minh sat at a table made of light and code. He picked up a virtual bowl of phở, feeling the heat through his haptic gloves. For the next sixty minutes, he wasn't a corporate runner or a survivor. He was just a son.

The neon sign for flickered, casting a bruised purple glow over the rain-slicked pavement of Level 9. In the sprawling vertical city of Neo-Saigon, Level 9 was the threshold—the "Adults Only" district where the air smelled of ozone and synthetic jasmine.

In the world of Socigames, the greatest thrill wasn't winning; it was being allowed to feel something real in a world that had gone completely synthetic.