My bare feet slap against the humming floor of the neural maze, a shifting labyrinth of holographic walls that flicker with distorted images of my own naked body—sweat-slicked, branded, dripping from last night’s calibration. The lunar colony’s air is thin, sharp with the tang of ozone, and my lungs burn as I run, heart hammering. . . . . . . .
The neural network pulses in my skull, broadcasting every ragged breath, every spike of fear and arousal, to the elite watching through their cranial implants. Dr. Kain—my creator, my father—is hunting me, his presence a shadow in the maze, and the knowledge that he’s closing in makes my p***y throb despite the panic. . . . . . . . .
“Keep running, Nova,” his voice echoes through the network, not from the walls but inside my head, a cybernetic i
