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https://warpcast.com/~/channel/farcade
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PhiMarHal
@phimarhal
This channel is in need of more content and I saw in a dream that erotic short stories for gamers is a massive market, so I thought I'd jump into the fray. Introducing... “The Wanderer in the Hell of Space” A /Farcade Tale The temporal anchor hadn't resonated in eons. Not since the Convergence. Not since the wars ended and silence settled over the Loop like forgotten whispers. But in this cycle, it pulsed. Just once. A low, aching vibration of forbidden words that rippled through the liminal sanctuary between moments. 勇 sensed it first, through the consciousness threads that bound them to this place. They rose from their orbit, wrapped in nothing but speed particles, pale starlight from dimensions beyond filtering through reality's thin walls. Their breath created fractals in the impossible air. Something stirred within—half memory, half forbidden hunger. The anchor's pulse meant someone had breached the Loop's boundaries. Someone who had learned what they shouldn't know.
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PhiMarHal
@phimarhal
勇 took a step towards a space where time flowed differently, and made their way through the corridors that existed between seconds, against floors that shifted between states of being. Each dash echoed like a truth too dangerous to speak aloud. When they reached the anchor's chamber, they saw it. A navigator—no, another survivor—drenched from the solar storm, leaning against the kanji transmission core. Their interface cloak corrupted, bio-suit breached, eyes glowing with the remnants of kanji energy. The stranger's form flickered between symbols: 愛 (love), then 希 (hope), then 夢 (dream). "You're not supposed to be here," 勇 said, voice calm, but their essence quickened through the neural link. 夢 looked up, slowly. "I activated the beacon for sanctuary." "You're supposed to pulse it twice for sanctuary," 勇 replied. 希 smiled, exhaustion weighing heavy on their shifting form. "Then consider the second pulse implied."
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PhiMarHal
@phimarhal
勇 should've ejected them from the system. But something in the way the stranger's kanji flickered made them stay. There was no threat in their code—only longing. And something else. "Let me help you," 勇 said, stepping closer. 希 watched as 勇 reached for the connectors of their ruined bio-suit, the idea of hands brushing the warmth beneath the interface. A long scar curved across their essence—earned from kanji battles, not programmed. 勇's tentacles paused over it, then traced lower, over light, energy, storm radiation. The space between them charged like a laser beam. "You're trembling," the stranger whispered, their form stabilizing into 愛. "So are you." "I've been cold for so many cycles," they murmured. "You… You feel like the first warmth I've encountered in eons."
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