COLD STEEL, BLEEDING HEARTS
Instead, he wore a plain black suit, sharp and clean, almost as if it had been drawn on.
Maya glanced at her own hands. The white doctor's coat was back, but the cloth dragged over her skin like static. The black ink lines were gone; in their place, glowing golden numbers flickered, changing every time her heart pounded.
"Where are we?" Maya whispered.
"We’re in the Comment Section," boomed a voice from above.
This wasn’t the Woman at the desk—it was a thousand voices, tumbling over each other, some shrill, some deep, some angry, some laughing. Above their heads, millions of giant, glowing eyes blinked open in the dark sky. The Readers.