They wandered through the neighborhood, drifting through moments of chatter and silence. They passed homes that ached with history, stonework comprised of extinct architecture. The roads sloped gently, ancient cobblestones worn and cracking. Reding was exempt from the pandemic of electric-bright lifestyles that plagued the rest of New Matrica; far removed from the techno-babble of Central, the gritty, dark streets of Junktown. Here, gnarled trees and humble streetlights thrived.

Annika found the place quaint, viewed it with a sense of good-natured pity. But Harry loved the sense of history that dripped from the statues, the faded brickwork. In a city defined by the sleek, ever-changing, Reding was comforting, with its shabby, worn-down presence.

"How's your project going?" Harry asked, as they turned a corner, wandered through an alley-turned-shortcut. Annika's work was a rare example of highbrow tech that he actually felt true interest in.

Her nose wrinkled at the mention of it. "I really needed today, you know? Designing realistic fluid physics for the water has been... difficult. And, well, you know how behind on things I can get..."

Harry smiled. "I'm sure it's going to be incredible." He thought about her last completed work; a virtual landscape depicting a cavern network, painstakingly populated with crystal formations. She had spent weeks perfecting the texture of quartz, trying to emulate the oily-slick feel in a virtual environment.

He knew that the caverns and her now in-progress ocean landscape were educational commissions, to be used as teaching assets.

He also knew that she really got excited about the private clients who came to her tech firm. These were people who sought to commission a personal virtual space, a replica of whatever strange world their imagination spawned.

Harry could tell she was growing bored; he hoped something would come along soon and fire her up. Annika was at her brightest when designing daunting forests of bone-trees, or mobile archipelagos, built atop the backs of massive beasts.

Her love for the strange and unknown was something he admired, and envied.

The alley led them to a wider boulevard, a commercial strip lined with shops and cafes. Harry led them across the street towards a shabby brown building that seemed almost wedged between its neighbors.

Its wide-paneled windows were thrown open to the elements, tables and chairs spilling out onto the sidewalk.

Nemo's had been discovered by Harry back in his college days, as he wandered the neighborhood in search of a quiet place to study. He fell in love with the cafe, its warm oak finish, chrome accents flashing in amber light.

Annika strode ahead of him, calling for him to hurry up, that she was starving.

He smiled, and followed her into the cafe.

They walked into the cool interior, Harry scanning the room for an open space. He spotted an empty table against the wall, and the couple settled down, ordered drinks, eyed each other in simple contentment.

Harry flinched, suddenly. He glanced around, trying to pinpoint whatever insect had invaded their space, its low buzz pervasive.

He glanced up at Annika to see if she had noticed, but her face was vacant, dreamy. She was looking past him, gaze settled on some point in the background.

The buzzing grew louder.

Harry sighed, resigned himself to the hope that their intruder would soon move on. Looking towards Annika again, "Do you hear that?"

"Hmm?" She murmured, her eyes flickered, tracking movement behind him. He turned, saw the waitress weaving towards their little table with drinks.

The buzzing grew louder.

She was an older woman, a server Harry had gotten acquainted with after years of patronage. He met her gaze, allowing a small smile to develop, despite his irritation.

Her mouth crinkled, returning the greeting, but she suddenly faltered, stopped.

The buzzing was incessant.

Harry's smile turned sickly, confused. She looked away, towards Annika, her face going pale. The ice in the drinks clinked, her hands shaking.

Harry felt fear ooze through him when her gaze slid back. Her smile was weak, pitying. She spoke, but he could barely make it out over the sound of the grating buzz. He had to read her lips.

"I'm sorry, dear."

And then he knew. Maybe he knew it from the very start, once the static had begun. But his conscious mind hadn't allowed that.

Harry felt a pulse move through him, like something had squeezed his brain, just once. He began to shiver. And yet still, something made him turn away from the waitress, towards Annika, towards the horrible, droning sound.

Annika was falling apart.

Not in a grotesque, wet way, like butchered meat. She was fragmenting, blurring like the railpods at top speed.

Harry choked on his own spit as he watched her body splinter around the edges, becoming something strangely ethereal.

The back of his mind was incessant. Remember! Stay back, at least 6 feet. Don't take pictures. Help others who cannot help themselves clear the scene.

But when someone is being Undone right in front of you, when you're face-to-face with it, training is ignored.

Logic is ignored.

Gasps filled the room as the other diners began to take notice. Annika's obliteration had been given an audience.

Finally, excruciatingly, Harry scooted back a beat.

"Annika, can-can you hear me?" He gaped at her, her impossible body, her flesh that fizzled away from her, curling into nothingness.

She still had that placid expression, lips curled up slightly.

Harry tried again, his voice shaking. "Annika?"

Her eyes slid, connected. Her face was framed by jagged lines now. It was impossible to discern the spaces between her splitting body: just an odd refraction of light, opaque in nature. No blood, no bones.

Her mouth moved. Despite the warnings that erupted from the assembled bystanders, he leaned in closer to catch what she was saying.

"The roses, Harry." She grinned. "I know where they come from-"

Her face was gone then, replaced by a matrix of mirrored light.

Harry stared mutely at endless warped fractals of himself.

After a moment, there wasn't much of her left. And then suddenly, there was none. The light bent back into shape, slipping back into the innocuous bounds of traditional physics again.

It had taken only a minute, maybe two, for Annika to completely disappear.

Silence once again filled the cafe, air charged with shock. No one spoke. Harry stared dumbly at the empty chair across from him.

He felt a hand on his back and he turned. Harry looked up at the waitress as she gently placed the drinks on the table.

"Your girlfriend?" She asked, soothingly.

"We had a wedding date planned." Harry mumbled. "She'd already started on the invitations."

The server cooed, a simpering, sympathetic sound. "When's the wedding?"

He looked away, fought against a shuddering breath. "Not until next year. But that's not the problem-"

"Oh!" She grinned, wrinkles cutting deep. "Don't you worry then! The Reclaim Unit will sort things out with more than enough time."

She patted him again, and left, normalcy slowly returning to the cafe.

Harry sat alone, two steaming cups before him, as people murmured their condolences. Their words were light and meaningless, like a soft breeze.