HOPE
The sound is distant at first...just a faint tap-tap-tap brushing the edge of my awareness. I blink out of a dreamless sleep.
"Huh?" Tap-tap-tap. I rub my eyes. "Breakfast?" I mumble automatically.
A mechanical arm whirs to life, extending from the wall and reaching into a compartment. It pulls out a sealed meal tray like it's delivering treasure. Honestly, every day is like Christmas here.
I peel back the lid, releasing a burst of steam that fogs the air. Inside: a perfectly wrapped breakfast burrito. "Nice," I mutter.
"Coffee?" I ask.
"Preparing," the computer responds, calm as ever.
I take a warm, flavorful bite. Better than it has any right to be. I guess this is why the Alphas have no servants. They literally have machines for everything.
Cooking is more of a distressing therapy.
"Coffee," the voice says again. Another arm swings out, handing me a pouch with a pinch-straw.
"Luca! How long was I asleep?"
