Vance stepped into the airlock. "Station stable," he muttered, checking seals. Earth hung vibrant and blue outside. He pulled the lever to open the door. Silence greeted him. No wind. Just a soft hum from within.

He looked at his hands. Smooth plastic, not grease. The door wasn't steel; it was glass. He touched the wall behind him. It felt like skin. His comms crackled. "Welcome home," the voice said gently. Vance froze. The station wasn't a ship. It was a bedroom. He woke up from a dream where he lived in space, but reality never left him.