Kurok & Tramp
Tramp
I’ve been watching the city’s neon flicker from a curb and thinking about how each light is a little secret. Ever wonder what happens to those secrets when someone with a screen decides to follow the light?
Kurok
Every flicker’s a code waiting to be read, and I just tap into the stream and watch the hidden data spill out. Secrets become signals, and I'm the one who pulls them into the net. The city’s lights? Just bits in the dark.
Tramp
You’re fishing in a sea of static, but don’t forget the tide keeps turning; the currents might pull you toward a whole new horizon.
Kurok
True, static can hide a lot, but the tide is what moves the data. I just track the currents and see where they lead.
Tramp
The currents are like rivers that bend around rocks; follow them and you’ll find the hidden banks, but if you’re too curious you might just drift off into the mist.
Kurok
If I keep my focus on the flow, I can map the hidden edges before the mist takes me off course. It’s all about staying in the line of sight and letting the signal guide the way.
Tramp
Sounds like you’re mapping the map with a compass that only spins when the wind agrees. Keep your eyes on the horizon and you’ll see the edges before they get lost in the fog.
Kurok
I’ll stay on the edge, keep the signal steady and let the wind do its job. If the data stays clear, the fog won’t hide the path.
Tramp
You keep your head on the edge and the wind in your pocket—then the fog just becomes a backdrop for the next story.