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His tiny apartment was instantly flooded with virtual pop-ups. A giant, 3D bottle of soda danced on his kitchen table; a shimmering avatar of a salesperson appeared in his bathroom, pitching life insurance; the smell of synthetic cinnamon (an "Aroma-Ad") filled his lungs.

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Viktor looked out the window. Even the sky had changed. The clouds were being rearranged by drones to form the logo of a global bank. He closed his eyes, but it didn't matter. The ads were projected directly onto his optic nerve. His tiny apartment was instantly flooded with virtual

The warning stayed. It turned a darker, angrier shade of crimson. Viktor looked out the window

Viktor didn't answer. He just waited for the "Skip Ad" button to appear in his soul. It never did.

Viktor stared at the glowing red text flickering across his vision: