She lay beside me, shoulders teased by the thin straps of the black silk dress that lined her back and ass. It clung to her much unlike anything I had ever seen her wear, leaving both nothing and everything up to the imagination of my starved eyes. My arms stayed glued to my side, unable to move, hesitant to touch her, to break the spell of the sleeping ghost inches away from my own skin, still warm, still damp and living and divine. Her hair fanned out beneath her in brown-gold waves, and the gentle hum of the sun outside cast amber streaks across her face.

I lay there, in the summer-drenched room, hibiscus and jasmine filling my nose from the scent-ports on the walls, soaking in the soft movement beside me, the gentle breath of a woman who I had known for so little time, and yet felt like all my life. A buzzing noise from outside the window drew my attention, and through the thin, pink-gauze curtains I saw a hummingbird, sea-blue and pecking at the plastic flowers on the sill. Its wings moved with hydraulic precision, sighing and groaning with each beat of its wings. Titanium, I thought. That was the name of the white I had used to paint a scene such as this once, the colour of a house in the rainforest, squat and square with a red terracotta roof and herbs drying in the doorway, my wife beside me, though her hair was black, not brown, and he had freckles in the sun, unlike this pale-faced approximation laying beside with with curves like the ocean. I had never liked larger-figured women, but the system had decided, and this was the optimal companion profile for a man of my demographic.

A translucent banner flickered across the corner of my vision. Balance: 00:12:09 remaining.

The rainforest outside the window sagged. The leaves lost their lacquered shine, drooping under a weight that hadn’t been there minutes before. The hummingbird outside twitched mid‑air, wings stuttering, the rhythm collapsing into an uneven whine. For a moment it hung there, frozen, before resuming its pattern, but now the beats were off by a fraction, just enough to make my teeth ache. Its shadow in the curtains moved out of kilter. The scent‑ports sputtered again and the air carried the unmistakable musk of wet soil and animal droppings.

Please upgrade your Serenity plan to the Premium Tier to gain access to longer sessions, customised scenarios, and a richer overall experience.

I exhaled. I’d stretched the subscription as far as I could this month. I would save those twelve remaining minutes for the end of this week, then the next, and all over again in January. The rainforest outside dissolved into a low‑resolution smear, and the woman beside me flickered into a cheaper model, all before flickering out completely.

And I was alone again, ushered out of the black pod and back to work until my next six minute break at the end of the week.