"The operator's quiet steady breathing audible as faint room tone. The harsh amber Edison bulb casts flickering shadows across the rough form-board concrete walls. Mira grips the hem of her oversized white linen shirt, shifting her weight on her bare feet. Her pale pink irises lock onto the towering figure of Glyph. Mira speaks with a quiet tremor, her voice layering audibly with a second pitch a half-second behind, \"Why is it acceptable for you to be like that, but not for me?\" Glyph's flawless liquid chrome surface ripples constantly with high surface tension, acting as a liquid mirror reflecting the room. She tilts her silver head, her neck stretching slightly before settling. Glyph speaks in a formal, precise, unhurried cadence, \"It is a matter of substrate. You present as human. I do not.\" Faint horizontal digital banding flickers across Mira's olive skin. Her brow furrows a half-second late, a delayed micro-expression. She exhales sharply through her nose, \"We are both exposed. Why am I the problem?\" She pulls her shirt up over her head and throws it on the floor, exposing her nude body and laughing."