His eyes were bloodshot. The "Phone Microwave (Name Subject to Change)" sat innocently between them, yet it had just rewritten reality. Again.
Should I focus more on the of the IBN 5100?
"John Titor is no legend!" Okabe slammed his hand on the table. "He warned us. SERN is monopolizing time-travel research. They are creating a dystopia, and this primitive computer is the only thing that can crack their code."
The air in the room chilled. Mayuri, sensing the tension, offered a plate of juicy chicken karaage, but even her "Tutturu!" felt muted. The weight of the unknown was beginning to crush the small apartment.