In Gothic Renaissance, Harper, a divine Messenger, serves retribution within society's intricate shadows under Zeus.

The new Marn stretched. It felt constrained in ways it couldn't explain. The new body was a restriction. But it was necessary for its purpose. It ran its hand along the spires, looking for the connection

Marn stepped out into the clearing, wild fractals fracturing under his boots. The figure couldn't have gone far. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them. Maybe it was just the spires playing tricks on

Author's note: This is part of a short story that I'm working on for my upcoming game Exoworld, which you can find a development log for at my game design blog. “Don’t go off the path.” “I just need to

“I’ve got the prototype.” “That was quick.” Smith shrugs, even though Augen can’t see him. “Like you said, it was a lucky coincidence.” “Everything in one piece?” “Doesn’t look like they opened it.” “Good.

He can hear someone moving on the other side of the door, but the neurachem can’t catch the details for him. An indicator light comes on under the camera, and a disembodied voice comes from a tinny speaker

Smith takes in every detail. His own room should be the same as every other in the motel. It’s clean, sterile, a nice break from the usual arcoplex outskirts dive. No windows, a door made of steel. There’s

“Got a job for you, Smith. Three wire-heads stole some prototypes out in the deadzone, didn’t have enough sense not to take them across the border.” “Who’s the client?” “Feds.” Smith plants his hands on

Gray woke before I did. Maybe she didn’t even sleep; the dark rings around her eyes still haunt me. She was sitting up for me. “Did you call the plane?” She shook her head. She didn’t say anything. That

I took a few moments to observe the stranger before I approached her. She had a gun strapped to her thigh, but it was just a regular old handgun. 1911, or something close enough to be practically the same.

All I said was, “You can’t wander off like that, Gray.” Nothing more, nothing less. She just stared at me for a minute. I was angry, so I walked off.  I didn’t know that the next time I looked for

We spent four hours looking for Gray. No sign of her in the warehouse or the streets immediately around us. There was too much stuff at the stash for the two of us to carry it in one trip. I was unconcerned

The morning light hit me like a train. Gray was already up, half-ready to go.  “Eat something and get your boots on. We’re going to head over to the warehouse and see if we can get some of the stuff

“It’s been a long three months.” Looking around the interior of the building, I had to agree. There’s a smell and a feeling you notice where they haven’t had running water for a while. “Anything interesting

“Contact.” The words come out hot, louder than I mean for them to, even though they’re a hissed whisper. Gray’s goggles swivel my way, the intensifier tubes giving her head an angular profile. “Not a crawlie.”

“We have to go!” I grab Gray and pull her by the straps of her pack. The carbine sways off-target and sends a bullet into a boarded up storefront. She swears at me. We made it into an alley before whoever

“You hear that?” I thought she was just trying to get my mind off what she’d done, but I stopped to listen. The crawlies have this noise they always make. They can’t stand anymore, so they scrape themselves

The plane touched down at dusk. Pinpoints of light came from various points in the city, almost enough to make one forget that it was abandoned. The clouds above us melded into a monotone gray, hiding

The haze closed in around me. I trudged on for hours until I finally stood in the dolmen's shadow. I saw the shadow first, darkness fringed by the crimson dust that blocked the skies and turned the light

I imagined the smell of burning electronics as the ground hissed. The sound cut through the wind. How many planets had I done this on? Seven? I counted on my fingers. Before Maura, it was... Images bled