. The trees lining the highway were no longer solid walls of emerald; they were dappled with shades of burnt orange and pale gold, with fewer leaves to catch the wind.

Driving through this "1.46" world felt different. The light was shorter, more golden, hitting the asphalt at an angle that made the road textures look sharper and more weathered. As Elias crossed into the rural stretches of France, he noticed the small details: fallen leaves swirled in his wake on the sidewalks of sleepy villages, and the grass in the medians had turned a parched, late-season tan.

The vibrant, heavy greens of mid-August had surrendered. In their place was the crisp, bittersweet transition of . As he pulled out of the depot onto the A7, the air in the cabin felt cooler, even if it was just the digital readout on his dashboard showing a steady