When he uncurled, the sky outside was black. There was a single text on his phone from an unknown number.
Dr. Vance nodded, unfazed. “Brilliant, as always. But the question was about socio-political implication, not architectural correction.” syndrome du savant autisme
The fluorescent lights of the Université de Montréal’s psychology department hummed a low B-flat. To anyone else, it was just the sound of cheap infrastructure. To Gabriel, it was the off-key chorus of a city’s worth of faulty ballasts, and it drilled into his temples like a dentist’s drill. When he uncurled, the sky outside was black