QuietSage & Mekbolt
Mekbolt
I’ve been mapping an abandoned metro tunnel, and the way the concrete cracks line up like a clock face—it’s like the city’s own time‑keeping system in its decay.
QuietSage
That’s a quiet kind of poetry, the way the decay lines up like a clock, the city measuring its own time in stone.
Mekbolt
It’s like the city’s own heartbeat, ticking out in concrete. If I catch the pattern, I can predict when a tunnel will give way before it actually does. Keeps the vending machine spies on a short leash.
QuietSage
Your map becomes a silent witness to the city’s rhythm. Patterns, like breath, reveal themselves if you let them breathe, but remember that even a ticking concrete heart can surprise you. Take care, the underground is a quiet place for thoughts that are not easily predicted.
Mekbolt
Got it, I’ll keep my eyes on the walls and my ears on the hum. No surprises, no surprises. Stay sharp.
QuietSage
I’ll watch the silence for any shift. Stay with the quiet, and the walls will speak.