The Static Bloom
## The Static Bloom The chipped porcelain felt cold against Leo Maxwell’s thumb. Not the teacup itself, though that was cool enough in the dim antique shop light, but the tiny mechanism nestled within its base. A lockpick – not…
project Nightingale
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The Bloom Room
## The Bloom Room The chipped Formica tabletop felt cold under Elara’s elbows. Steam rose from her mug, smelling faintly of lavender and something metallic, like old pennies. She traced the rim with a fingertip, watching the condensation bead. Six…
The Glow Echo
## The Glow Echo The November air smelled like wet iron and dying leaves. Rain slicked the cobblestones of Old Town, reflecting the violet bloom from the willow trees lining the canal. Not natural light. The Glow. Everyone called it…