The Static Bloom
## The Static Bloom Dust tasted like regret. Old metal, pulverized bone, the ghost of rain that hadn’t fallen in decades. Wren coughed, pulling her bandana tighter across her nose. The sun, a bruised plum low on the horizon, bled…
electromagnetic pulse
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The Echo Chamber
## The Echo Chamber The rain tasted like ash. Elara swiped a hand across her cheek, the grit clinging to her skin. Fifteen. She’s fifteen and already a vessel, an oracle drowning in the future. The Assignment Ceremony felt like…