2030 A.D.

Jonas Silk stepped out of the elevator as the door to his apartment slid open with a soft hiss. The ambient lighting of the hallway welcomed him with a familiar, soothing glow, guiding him into the sleek, minimalist space he called home.

"Doris," Jonas called out, "prepare dinner. And make the windows transparent."

The house computer responded instantly. "Of course, Mr. Silk. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes."

Jonas walked further into the living area as the windows slowly shifted from opaque to transparent, revealing the cityscape beyond. The view was breathtaking, one of the reasons he had rented this expensive apartment. The metropolis stretched out before him, a sea of lights glittering against the dark canvas of night. Towering skyscrapers, interwoven with neon pathways, reached up toward the sky, their tops lost in the haze of low-hanging clouds. Far below, streams of hovercrafts moved in orderly lines, their lights casting an ethereal glow over the streets.

But as Jonas gazed out over the city, something felt off. A faint, almost imperceptible flicker of the lights in the distance caught his attention. He frowned, leaning closer to the glass. It happened again, a brief flicker in one of the sectors, barely noticeable if one wasn't paying attention. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

Jonas tore his gaze away from the flickering lights and settled into the plush chair that conformed perfectly to his body. With a thought, he activated the control panel embedded in the armrest.

"Doris, bring up my social channels and switch to inner sound".

"Inner sound activated," Doris confirmed. Jonas felt a subtle shift as the ambient noise of the apartment faded, replaced by the crisp, immersive audio fed directly into the tiny implants nestled deep within his ears. It was as if the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the connection between him and the streams of data he was about to receive.

The windows lost some of their transparency, becoming a semi-opaque screen that displayed a cascade of information. Posts, messages, images, music, voices, and ads flowed seamlessly across the glass, a digital tapestry of his social world.

His attention was quickly drawn to a new post from his brother, Simon. A snapshot taken at sunset, the mountains in the background tinged with a warm orange glow. Simon had arrived in Denver, it seemed, and he wasn't alone. The photo was a candid shot of his daughter, Mia, perched on his shoulders, her laughter audible through the image. The caption read, "Finally made it! Denver at last. Mia's first time seeing the Rockies!"

Jonas felt a brief pang of something – was it envy? Nostalgia? He couldn't quite tell. He hadn't seen Simon in months, their lives on diverging paths as they each pursued their own futures in different corners of the country. The last time they'd spoken was a rushed call, more out of obligation than any genuine connection.

With a gesture of his hand, he swiped the image aside, and more posts followed. Friends, acquaintances, colleagues – their lives played out in fragments across the screen. A couple he knew from university had just bought a new house, their smiling faces front and center in the feed. Another friend was promoting his latest business venture, the post accompanied by a barrage of flashing advertisements, each more intrusive than the last.

Jonas scrolled through the stream, the relentless influx of commercials and sponsored content mingling with the personal updates until they became indistinguishable. The relentless push of products, ideas, and lifestyles, made it hard to focus, to care about any of it. Yet, it was a part of his daily routine, a background hum that kept him connected to the world.

As he continued to scroll through the endless stream of updates, ads, and messages, his mind barely registering the content. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed it again—a brief, almost imperceptible flicker through the semi-transparent window. His hand paused mid-swipe, and a sense of unease began to settle in the pit of his stomach.