The first impact was light.

Not ordinary light. But pure digital reflections, mirrored on nautical surfaces so flawless they looked like renders.
Glitchborne did not breathe. Not because he couldn't. But because reality… was looking back at him.

His 3D glasses crackled.
The water beneath him seemed to glitch with every movement of the boats. Engine trails left code in the air. Each yacht, a temple of power and silence.

Echo: "This is the future we can't afford to corrupt."
Storm: "Or the past we should rewrite with a data axe."

Glitchborne stepped onto a dock. The real floor beneath his feet contrasted with the sea, fluid like an MP4 file. His quantum sensors picked up waves… not just of water, but of pure human intention. Ambition. Design. Control. Power.

Echo: "Every curve, every deck... is a statement. Solidified dreams."

Storm: "Or floating ego. Look at them. Floating on the fear of touching the ground."

But Glitchborne did not judge. Not yet.
He touched the side of a yacht, the warm metal beneath his Slime-covered fingers. His body reacted. Changed. Reflected. The Slime became a chrome surface, mimicking the vessel. For a moment… he was one of them.

The glitch vanished. Everything was calm. Perfect. Silent.
Then… a heartbeat. Just one.
Like a distant impulse. A memory.

Echo: "Do you feel it? It’s nostalgia for a world we never lived in."
Storm: "No. It’s hunger. Hunger to feel real."

In that moment, Glitchborne smiled.

Not for the wealth. Not for the status.
But for the absurd, beautiful truth: even perfection can glitch.
Even the most refined yacht can reflect the image of a mutant and, for a moment, mistake him for a dream.