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Static Bloom

## Static Bloom The chipped Formica of the diner booth felt cold under Elias’s forearms. Rain hammered against the plasteel windows, blurring the neon glow of “Stella’s Fuel & Feed.” He hadn’t touched his synth-coffee. The scent of burnt protein…

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The Static Bloom

## The Static Bloom The air tasted like burnt sugar and static. Not the crackle from a faulty receiver, but something deeper, coating the tongue like ash. Wren coughed, pulling the salvaged respirator tighter across her face. The filter did…

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