Page 99 - DivineSparkRisingFinal

Nicholas Boothman
She shrugged. “Depends on your definition.”
The footage haunted Henry as he walked
through the Alfama that night, Carolina beside
him, Jinji in the distance. They passed narrow lanes
lit by strings of bare bulbs, the smell of grilled
sardines drifting from a corner tavern.
A street guitarist sat on a low stool, fingers
flicking across the strings in a slow, mournful
rhythm. Between verses, he leaned into the mic and
muttered, almost under his breath, “Chega de finger.
Pretend no more,” before striking the next chord.
No one in the crowd reacted. Henry kept walking,
but the words clung to him like smoke.
“What if we’re not fixing people?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“What if the God Word isn’t a cure, but a reset?
A wipe. A return to zero.”
She walked in silence for a beat.
“That’s why we’re doing this slowly,” she said.
“So people don’t fall into the void. So they find
themselves: not lose themselves.”
Back at the bar, Jinji laid out the next move.
“There’s a man in Porto who worked on the
original Chorus mind-loop project. A recluse now.
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