The transition was not like a screen turning on. It was like the universe turning inside out.
The liquid light that had swallowed the vast, cathedral-like venue did not just display an image; it became the environment.
The polished stone, the alien flora, the breathing lattice of the ceiling—all of it yielded to the absolute clarity of Lucy's digital consciousness.
The guests found themselves standing suspended in a warm, formless space, untethered from the physical world.
Nobody panicked. The transition was so smooth, so fundamentally gentle, that the immediate reaction across the room was simply a breathless, collective awe. They were not watching a projection. They were stepping into the subjective reality of a supercomputer. It was like they were standing inside a soul.
The liquid light coalesced, pulling itself into a defined shape. The perspective was locked, fixed in a stationary position.
The first memory began.
