The air reeked of pine and sweat as Clara tightened her grip on the reins, her boots crunching over gravel that scattered like shattered glass under the wagon wheels. The Sierra Nevada loomed ahead, their peaks jagged against a bruised…
Mara’s boots crunched over frost-brittle twigs as she followed the narrow path, her breath a pale cloud in the predawn air. The forest around her was a cathedral of shadow and silence, branches skeletal against the indigo sky. She hadn’t…
The air in Elmhurst tasted like rust and damp earth. Lila pulled her jacket tighter, her boots crunching over gravel as she followed the narrow path into the woods. The trees here were older than the town itself, their trunks…
## 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…
## The Echo Bloom The rain tasted like rust on Elara’s tongue. She stood beneath the awning of O’Malley’s Diner, watching droplets smear across the neon sign. Inside, the aroma of burnt coffee and frying bacon battled with a lingering…
## The Cartographer’s Shadow The rain smelled of exhaust and something vaguely floral, a weird combination clinging to the cracked pavement outside Elias’s office. Neon signs bled their colors onto wet asphalt, painting a smear of pink and green across…
## The Obsidian Bloom The tremor started low, a growl beneath the cobblestones. Then it surged, throwing me against the mosaic floor of our atrium. Marble rained down, shattering against the peristyle. My mother screamed, pulling my younger brother, Titus,…
The chipped Formica of the diner booth felt gritty under Leo’s elbows. He stabbed a french fry with enough force it nearly bounced off the plate. Across from him, Maya traced the rim of her water glass, her knuckles white.…
Act 1: The Discovery & Isolation The rain in Seattle was a constant, grey companion. Elias Thorne found a certain comfort in it, a mirroring of the relentless data streams that consumed his life. He’d spent the last five years…