@noggle

A speakeasy. 1920s, low light, factions with their own tables and their own grudges. You walk in, pick a side, or quietly play all of them. Notes get passed. Deals get cut in the back room. Someone always betrays someone before closing time. The AI runs it: sets the scene, plays the bartender who knows too much, remembers you stiffed the CrypToadz table last week. What it won’t do is scheme for you. That part’s yours. That’s a Space. Not a place you visit. A place you change by being in it.

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