## The Static Bloom The dust tasted like forgotten birthdays. Old metal, a sweetness clinging to the grit that coated Lena’s tongue. She hadn’t felt rain in seven cycles, not real rain anyway. Just condensation clinging to the geodesic domes…
## Echo Bloom The rain tasted like static. Not unpleasant, just… unusual. Elara licked the droplets clinging to her cheekbone, a faint hum vibrating against her skin. Everything did these days. It was the Bloom, they called it. A city-wide…
## The Echo Thief Rain lashed against the panoramic window of Elias Thorne’s office, blurring the neon sprawl of Neo-San Francisco into an impressionistic watercolor. He ignored it, focused on the data scrolling across his monitor – a chaotic cascade…
The rain hammered against the corrugated iron roof of Silas’s shack, a relentless rhythm mirroring the frantic drumming in his chest. He hadn’t slept properly in days, not since the anomaly hit Sector 7. The air, usually a thick soup…