On the 47th floor, the simulation room sparked and hissed. Inside, a teenager named Mirage—who could create solid-light duplicates of herself—was failing spectacularly. Her three clones had just walked into a holographic wall, one after another, like lemmings.
said Drift, a woman made of living mist, without looking up from her tablet. “You put it there after the sentient ice cream incident.” superheroine central
Inside, the morning was chaos.