A cash register from 1963. Ka-ching.
"You came to sell your future. But we at ENBD believe in informed depreciation." It gestured toward a door that hadn't been there a second ago. "The Vault of Echoes." enbd 5015
I did. And the room screamed.
"You're not selling years," I whispered, pulling my hand back. "You're selling memories. The experience of living them." A cash register from 1963
The year is 5015. The place is New Dubai, a city that breathes silicon and starlight, where the Persian Gulf has long since been encased in a climate-controlled dome. At the heart of its financial core stands the ENBD Tower, a needle of obsidian glass that pierces the stratosphere. But ENBD no longer stands for "Emirates NBD." Now, it means "Eschaton Neural Bank of Dubai." But we at ENBD believe in informed depreciation
"Then I'll find another way," I said.