Root & Wire
## Root & Wire The dust tasted like rust, clinging to Elara’s tongue as she walked the cracked earth of her family’s farm. Fifteen years old, and already a landscape sculptor, carving canyons in the parched soil with each weary…
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The Longwave Echo
## The Longwave Echo The dust tasted like static. Wren coughed, pushing a strand of faded-blue hair from her face as she surveyed the abandoned diner. Chrome gleamed dully beneath a thick layer of grime, vinyl booths cracked like ancient…
The Static Between
## The Static Between The salt spray tasted like regret on Old Man Hemlock’s lips. He adjusted the focusing lens of the fresnel, the beam slicing through the November gloom like a hot knife. Three decades at North Sentinel Rock…