## The Echo Weaver The rain tasted like static. Maya swallowed, the metallic tang clinging to her tongue even as she wiped a greasy hand across her forehead. The corrugated iron of the observation post groaned under the relentless downpour,…
## Twilight Echoes The rain smelled of wet asphalt and something else—something mineral, almost metallic. Unit-7’s sensors registered it first, a faint tang overlaid on the familiar scent of the Seattle drizzle. It compiled the data, cross-referencing it with pre-established…
## The Seam Rain lashed against the corrugated steel roof of the observation post. A relentless drumming that swallowed everything else except the low thrum vibrating through the soles of Elias Thorne’s boots. He tightened his grip on the data…