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Usually, Elias would head to the bar, order a drink he didn't want, and stare at his shoes until he felt pathetic enough to leave. Tonight, he walked straight onto the dance floor. He didn't dance; he navigated. He scanned.

"Are you going to lecture me on neuro-ethics?" Elias asked, feeling a surge of confidence that wasn't his own. It was chemical. "Or are you going to tell me your designation?" ketosexcom