## The Cartographer’s Puppets The rain tasted of iron and regret. Elias traced a greasy finger across the dusty window of “Time’s Echo,” his grandfather’s shop. The bell above the door chimed, a brittle song swallowed by the downpour. A…
## Echo Forests The rain smelled of rust and regret, clinging to Elias’s worn leather jacket. He squinted through the downpour, tracing a path carved into the crimson moss that coated everything in this place. It wasn’t just moss; it…
## Echo Bloom The rain tasted like old pennies and static. Elias wiped it from his cheek, the chill seeping into his bones despite the insulated jumpsuit. He squinted at the containment apparatus – a tangle of matte black cables,…
## The Stillness Echo The rain smelled like wet asphalt and regret. Elias pulled his collar higher, the damp chill sinking into his bones as he watched her. Amelia sat on the park bench, head bowed, a city symphony of…
## The Salt and the Stain The Indigo Coast road wasn’t a place you *drove*; it unfurled beneath the tires, a ribbon of grey clinging to cliffs. Salt spray tasted like ghosts on Elias Thorne’s lips as he steered his…
## The Bloom & the Blade The scent of dried chrysanthemum and aged paper clung to Mei’s fingers. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of sunlight slicing through the high window of the Imperial Library’s Annex. She traced a…
## The Stone Speaker The chipped Formica of the kitchen counter felt cold under Leo Maxwell’s elbow. Another Tuesday, another grocery list scrawled in shaky handwriting: milk, eggs, bread, almond flour. His aunt Millie, bless her practical soul, left meticulous…