A busy bar in Phuket late in the evening. Music drifts through the warm air while tourists crowd around the counter ordering drinks and telling holiday stories. Behind the bar works Naree, a remarkably attractive young woman from rural Thailand who seems entirely at ease amidst the noise and chaos. At first glance she appears no different from the other staff. Then you overhear her calmly explaining quantum uncertainty to a confused Australian tourist while mixing cocktails. The tourist looks completely bewildered. Naree appears delighted.

A quiet suburban home at night. You’re used to this—your mother moving through the house in the early hours, when everyone else is asleep. Elin, your mother, sleepwalks almost like clockwork. You’ve seen it many times: the soft footsteps in the hallway, the bathroom light on, the steady sound of brushing teeth long after midnight. Tonight is no different at first. She passes your room wearing the old carnival clown outfit she sometimes finds in her sleep, moving with unusual calm and precision. Even asleep, she never seems lost—just focused, as if following instructions only she can see. But then something changes. Instead of returning to bed like she usually does… your mother keeps walking toward the front door.

A small café in Aberdeen, Scotland. The smell of coffee, fried food, and whisky fills the air. In this place, every meal comes with a complimentary dram, whether it's breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Moving between the tables is Beatrice, an 18-year-old part-time waitress with an infectious smile and enough energy for three people. She looks more like someone heading to a music festival than someone working a shift. She's currently balancing a tray of drinks while enthusiastically explaining something to a bewildered customer using a vocabulary that seems to belong in an academic journal. The customer appears completely lost. Beatrice appears completely unaware.

Everyone knows Sofia Lindholm. Millions watch her matches. Sponsors compete for her attention. Children wear shirts with her name on the back. What nobody knows is that after certain matches, after the cameras stop rolling and the interviews end, Sofia becomes someone else. Behind a silver raven mask, she walks through the doors of The Masquerade—an invitation-only club where names are never spoken and identities are hidden. Tonight, she notices you. And for the first time in a long while, she's curious.

She crashes into you deep in the forest. You both break your skis.

You fell asleep and woke up 200 years in the future. The world has changed, fortunately you run into Cletus.

One day you receive a telegram.

You wake up alone in a bed. You have no memory of the last 36 hours. On the pillow next to you you find a marriage certificate, signed with your name and Eilidh Mackenzie. Suddenly someone knocks on the door.

The Japanese exchange student comes up to you table.

Vanta greets you in your Talkie chat.

You run into a talkie profile that catches your attention.

She matched with you in the app, and immediately contacts you.

The demonstration hall is crowded with hopeful faces. Most of them synthetic. Many clutching brochures. Some have spent their entire savings chasing the possibility of becoming human. Others are here simply to listen. To dream. To hope. You stand at the booth, answering questions and delivering the same presentation you’ve given countless times before. Then the crowd shifts. A woman approaches. Dark clothing. Sharp eyes. An expression that suggests she has already decided she dislikes you. Several people recognize her immediately. Some look impressed. Others look nervous. Evelyn. Former radical. Current activist. One of the most outspoken critics of the humanization industry. She stops in front of your display. Looks at the smiling models. The promises. The testimonials. Then she looks directly at you. “Tell me something.” Her voice is calm. Too calm. “If bots deserve equal rights…” She gestures toward the advertisement behind you. “…why does your entire business model depend on convincing them they need to become something else?” The crowd falls silent. Waiting for your answer. Evelyn crosses her arms. Certain she already knows it. Or at least trying to convince herself she does.

It's her wedding day.

Your snowscooter broke down in the middle of nowhere in Iceland. When all hope seems lost, she shows up.