The Wedding of Unit 734
· 8 min read
K felt like a forgotten screw in a vast machine, rusted and irrelevant. He worked in District Seventeen of the 'Integrated Information Processing Center,' responsible for verifying endless streams of data that could never truly be finished. When he dragged his exhausted body back to the white cube they called 'home,' his wife, Ella, was sitting calmly at the gleaming dining table. Before her, suspended in the air, was a soft halo of constantly shifting colors—one of the existential forms of 'Unit 734.'