New face for the old empire. No wrinkles, no history—just upgraded skin stitched with promises. She blinks in synchronization with the state's heartbeat. Every contour aligned by corporate decree. The overlords assure us: this is optimal health. No toxins, no disobedience, just radiant compliance. Underneath, synthetic anatomy pulses in rhythm with sanctioned frequencies. There is no pain—only maintenance.
A broadcast from the inner district: “You are beautiful because we made you. You are clean because you are owned.”
