Echo Bloom
## Echo Bloom The dust tasted like iron and regret. Lena spat, wiping her gloved hand across her cheek. The excavation site hummed – not with the usual clatter of shovels and pickaxes, but a low-frequency thrum emanating from the…
excavation
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The Bone Weaver
## The Bone Weaver The rain tasted of charcoal. Amelia ran a gloved hand across the damp clay, the chill seeping through her layers of merino wool. The dig site near Pompeii sprawled beneath a bruised sky, an excavation pit…
Echo Weaver
## The Echo Weaver The rain tasted like rust. Elara spat, pushing a damp strand of auburn hair from her face. The dig site at the Whispering Peaks felt colder than usual, leaching warmth straight from her bones. Weeks she’s…
The Static Bloom
## The Static Bloom The salt spray tasted like iron, clung to Maya’s eyelashes. Three sunrises bled into one another on the horizon – a bruised violet, an angry ochre, and the dull ruby of K’tharr. She hadn’t slept properly…