“It’s been few days since uncle’s body was found. Stocked up with a bare minimum of supplies, he took a tiny boat and set sails, destination unknown. Where he’d been headed, why did he have to die such a weird death... that remained a mystery.” Cyberfuture is now, the world has changed, but not the people. We were always guided by our human software. Codelines imprinted in the very cores of our hearts and minds by people, events and opinions. We cling onto them, we are made of them — the firmware of smart-everything is much more prone to damage than that of a human. Everything is written for us. What is good, what is bad. Words knight us and ignite us and set us into battles. Our world is made of words. And masks. [From Steam]
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A novel needs atleast 20 owners before it's similarity is calculated.