Adsum

Adsum: "The glass beads were black and white: tiny flattened circles that made a loud clattering sound when he emptied the bag onto the glowing white floor. Most of the 1,394 settled within a few feet of his legs, although a few rolled to the outer reaches of the room.

“The problem here is that you don’t understand the potential,” Sudoku told her without lifting his attention from the beads. “You use this thing to play games and watch stimvids. You’ve never even opened the console.”

“And this is the console.”

“This is what the console looks like today.”

From her position on the floor across from him, Ery glanced around the room, then snorted. “Nice. Well, now that that’s over with, I’m going to go finish my coffee.”

“This room isn’t actually empty,” he said when the edges of her body started to shimmer with logout. She recondensed with a sigh that was slightly louder than necessary.

“I know an empty room when I see one.”

“There’s me. And you.”

“And stimvid pickup lines, apparently. But there’s coffee back in your apartment, and it’s winning.”

He wiped the beads into a small pile, then swept them onto his palm before spilling them over the floor again. “What’s a st"