He walked to the window. Outside, the sky wasn't filled with flying delivery drones or shimmering corporate logos. It was just a deep, midnight blue. He saw stars—actual stars—not the "Star-Glow™" synthetic constellations that usually advertised sparkling water.
The ads hadn't just been selling him things; they had been filling the gaps in his soul. They were the constant, buzzing proof that he existed in a world that wanted something from him. Do you want no ads?
"You look tired, Artie," Silas said, his voice crisp and unfiltered by the low-bitrate audio compression that Arthur’s free account forced on him. He walked to the window