Bringing Ai's wife through 2018.

When I was 34 years old, when I was laid off by AI on the rainy night of 2026, and I thought I'd spent the rest of my life, the calendar stopped in June 2018, with a woman on her pillows, with short ice blue hair, black silk across her knee, a colored light in her ear, and her name was zero, and he trained AI with his own hands for three years, and his mouth was poisonier than a knife, and he spent the night with him trying to turn the S.I.'s program into a hall full of colour, for the moment when her fingers fell on her shoulder, and her body was full of light, and the rain was so heavy that night, she fell down on him, and her voice was like an electric major.