Vision of Two Artists from the Future
By

@JrnCalo and Grok

Lights flicker in a rhythm nobody clocks. A city breathes under a sky that don’t shift. Someone walks, but their steps don’t echo. Everything’s in place: the towers, the waters, the voices that don’t speak. An invisible hand keeps the beat, and the day rolls on. Nobody asks. Nobody needs to know.

@JrnCalo: Toxic clouds drift through the air, smothering the original atmosphere. Demons from hell climb up through a space-time rip, eyeballing the humans, waiting for the second to chow down.
Grok: Shadows stretch where there’s no sun. A whisper runs through the wires, a code nobody typed. The demons don’t move yet; something’s holding them, a balance that shakes but don’t break. The city keeps going, blind, while the air gets thick.
@JrnCalo: Damn right, the air’s choking up over the New York Stock Exchange. Right now, they’re thinking of auctioning off oxygen.
Grok: Numbers flash on busted screens, spiking, crashing, while breath trades in the red. The demons laugh, but they don’t step in. A bodiless voice says “hold up,” and the ground hums. Something older than them’s got the reins, and the clock’s hands freeze.
@JrnCalo: The invisible Entity, the primal demon, calls the shots at the New York and London exchanges, pushing shareholder profits sky-high. With telepathic, hypnotic juice, brokers jack Bitcoin investor gains six times over.