
The Static Bloom
## The Static Bloom The dust tasted like old pennies and regret. Captain Eva Rostova spat, the grit clinging to her tongue even after a wash of recycled water. Outside the viewport, Xylos IV hung like a bruised plum—purple canyons…
## The Static Bloom The dust tasted like old pennies and regret. Captain Eva Rostova spat, the grit clinging to her tongue even after a wash of recycled water. Outside the viewport, Xylos IV hung like a bruised plum—purple canyons…