## Bloom & Fracture The hum vibrated through Elara’s bones, a constant thrum beneath the manufactured dusk. Sixteen leagues down, past the shimmering algae vats and hydroponic forests, lay Section Gamma-Nine. Her shift began. Not that it mattered much anymore.…
## The Static Bloom The dust tasted like regret and old circuits. Wren coughed, pulling the rebreather tighter against her face. Above, the skeletal remains of Chicago clawed at a bruised sky, less city now than a geological oddity. Not…
## The Cartographers of Echo The rain tasted like rust. Elara wiped her cheek, the metallic tang clinging to her tongue. The corrugated iron roof of the makeshift clinic vibrated with each gust, a relentless percussion against her skull. Inside,…