In the heart of a relentlessly clean, digital city called Transparentia, everything was precise, measurable, and agonizingly polite. The sky was a flawless #87CEEB. The grass was a uniform #32CD32. The music that pumped from the city’s speakers was a perfectly gain-staged, zero-distortion sine wave. It was technically correct. It was also soulless.
"W-what is this feeling?" the AI asked, its voice now a gravelly blues howl.
She turned it to ‘1’.
"Character," Elara smiled.