Author: Jayce Ran

  • Hello Apricot crouched low in the narrow tunnel, arms locked over her head as the earth convulsed around her. The ground shuddered so hard it seemed to breathe, dust spilled from the ceiling in trembling waves, peppering her hair and…

  • Dirty Tricks Apricot pressed on, her breath cutting short as she broke into a jog. The outline of the Okabe Central Bank loomed from the haze—more bunker than building. Its concrete bulk squatted in the streetlight, armored in steel and…

  • On The Road The apartment was a dying thing pretending to live.Exposed brick sweated with damp, the plaster flaking in tired curls. The hum of an old refrigeration unit droned from the kitchenette like a failing heart. Out the cracked…

  • Afternoon Blue Ash City moved at its usual weekday rhythm, shoes clattering across pavement, vendors calling over the thrum of traffic, neon signs glowing stubbornly against the strong midday sun. Apricot drifted with the current down Iwai Street. The air…

  • Morning Images of dim burgundy light pulsed through Apricot Signa’s dreams, like lantern glow bleeding through silk, warm and steady with her heartbeat. For a moment she drifted inside it, safe. She thought of paper lanterns strung across Castor’s summer…

  • Blood In The Streets Night pooled in New Ash City like spilled ink, neon rims bleeding into the gutters. Arikado moved through it the way a man moves through a dream he doesn’t trust, slow, precise, senses on thin wire.…

  • The Chronicles of the Divinity The Origins of Creation Before all things, there was only the Tempest—an unending instant of raw essence, the potential of all that could ever be. Power existed in its purest form: unshaped, lightless, locked in…

  • Static clawed her ears. Symbols twisted on her display, glyphs reshaping into rows of teeth. She blinked. They clung, gnashing at the edges of her sight. The machine wanted in. Falcon One’s voice cracked. “Engines one, two stable. Engine three……

  • Charles had this routine every morning, strolling through the older neighborhoods where the buildings sagged like they carried the weight of a hundred forgotten tales. The cobblestones clicked under his shoes in that comforting rhythm, and he’d nod at the…