Silk Sleep Mask (Cold-Chain)

Layered black silk encloses phase gel and a scent membrane thin as shed skin. Lifted from its chilled silver case, the mask settles over the eyes like cool water, drawing heat from the brow while cedar emerges in time with the slowing pulse. Owners are instructed to wash their face, speak tomorrow's first obligation aloud, and seal the case before lying down. The ritual is silly. It also works often enough to become indispensable. One cold charge lasts a night; twelve charges fit in the travel sleeve, and the case logs every storage lapse with merciless precision. Break the cold chain and it remains an excellent mask, just no longer a 680-credit argument against insomnia. Frequent users may find warm pillows intolerable and begin paying station couriers to move replacement gel at medical priority rates. Wearing one in shared berths signals money, fragility, or both. Borrowing it is intimate. Returning it warm is an offense people remember.