Shelk & RowanSilas
RowanSilas
You ever notice how the best chaos has an underlying rhythm, like a silent metronome you can feel if you listen close? I think there’s a kind of order hidden in the mess you create.
Shelk
Yeah, the beat’s there—just not the polite kind. It’s the hiss of traffic, a vending machine whining, the city’s pulse. If you pause long enough, you hear the rhythm, but it’s a rhythm that keeps changing, refusing to be tamed. That’s the true order I’m after.
RowanSilas
I’d say the city’s pulse is a game of constant subterfuge—every honk a pawn move, every siren a knight’s gambit. Keep your eyes on the board and the next surprise will reveal itself.
Shelk
Nice, but the board’s already dissolving when the siren starts doing its own backflip. I’m not watching for pawn moves, I’m hunting the beat that makes them switch sides.
RowanSilas
You’re right—when the siren flips, the whole deck rewinds. That’s the moment you hear the shift, not the move itself. Keep your ear tuned and the board will play its hand.