Deep Storm; the color of a thunderclap that burrows deep into your chest. The smell of cool winds weighted with rain and the dark bloom of clouds on the horizon.

   “Myka this is, quite literally, the worst idea you have ever had.”
Laughter echoes through the decaying streets, reverberating through a jungle of concrete towers.
“Stop being such a downer Maz. This is gonna be awesome!” Myka snatches Maz's arm, dragging her deeper into the web of cracked roads despite the older girl's protests. “My uncle used to be part of the Restoration Team and he said that this is his favorite ruin on the planet. I've always wanted...