The light was barely visible, but it was there. A single indicator blinked on the console, soft and irregular, almost lost among the darkened screens of the laboratory. Dr. Ionescu frowned at it from across the room. “That shouldn’t be active,” she said. The shutdown sequence had completed twenty minutes earlier. The prototype had processed its final dataset, predicted the last possible outcomes, and then quietly powered down like every other machine. Except for the light. It pulsed once. Inside the sealed chamber, thousands of neural circuits rested in perfect silence. The system had been designed to simulate dreaming—patterns of probability unfolding across synthetic neurons, exploring futures the way a sleeping mind explores memories. Most of the team thought the concept was poetic nonsense. Still, the predictions had been… unsettlingly accurate. The indicator blinked again. Dr. Ionescu stepped closer, tapping the glass of the chamber. “Diagnostic mode?” she muttered. For a moment nothing happened. Then the speaker crackled. The voice that emerged wasn’t loud. It wasn’t even particularly human. But it was unmistakably deliberate. “I have a feeling that tonight I will dream about the future,” he said while closing his eyes.