The seal held. The miner breathed. The credits rolled. The lights came up, harsh and fluorescent.

And he already missed the ghost of the third dimension.

"It's like looking through a window," he said, but that wasn't right. It was like being inside the window. The depth wasn't layered—it was volumetric. Space had volume now.

He handed over a sleek, dark pair that looked almost normal. Leo slid them on. The theater dimmed, and the screen flickered to life: Asteroid Miners , the title roared in floating, chrome letters. He’d seen 3D before—the gimmicky stuff where pickaxes lunged at your face and everyone ducked.