Detbitinis Autobusos Terminalas 1.39 -

Kaelen sat on a bench made of recycled polymer, watching the "ghost buses"—autonomous, translucent pods—glide into their docking bays. Terminal 1.39 was the lowest level of the central hub, a place where the air tasted like ozone and burnt rubber, and the passengers were mostly those trying to disappear.

As the bus accelerated into the lightless tunnel, the terminal faded into a blur of neon streaks. Kaelen looked at the holographic driver. She stopped knitting, looked at him with pixelated eyes, and whispered, "Destination: Nowhere. Enjoy the ride." DETBITINIS AUTOBUSOS TERMINALAS 1.39

The neon hum of the wasn't just noise; it was the heartbeat of a city that had forgotten how to sleep. Kaelen sat on a bench made of recycled