Pulp Pistil

Dragon Slayers

by PulpPistil

The settlement is already sweating when the cameras go live. Vendors, odds boards, bodies on display. Four runners enter a dungeon grown through fungus, crystal, and old violence. One of them talks. One of them performs. One of them shops first and says almost nothing. Public sex and public killing share the same broadcast. The gates are open. The odds are moving. Whatever waits at the center is not explained in the square. Produced using AI tools.