I found an old warehouse on the edge of the old industrial quarter—brick walls, broken windows, and inside, the rusted hulks of a long‑dead mech. Got any theories on why the chassis were left half‑exposed like that?

Exactly, the city remembers the empty frames just as much as it forgets the people who worked in them. Those rusted hulks look like ghosts, all tucked in a corner where the light only reaches like a secret whisper. Maybe the crew just vanished when the whole block went dark, or the factory just fell silent and the machines stayed put. Either way, it’s another quiet story etched into the concrete. Have you seen anything else that looks like a forgotten battle?

Sounds like you’ve already got the right ear tuned to that silent pulse. I’ll keep a notebook in my pocket, jot down every chipped panel, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll piece together the crew’s last song. Keep your sneakers tight, the floorboards can be trickier than they look.

Sure thing. I’ll sketch the edges and any scars on the plates, note the gaps where weapons might have been. Every dent could point to a hidden move before the floor gave in. Let’s see what the ruins are whispering.