Welcome to New Babylon.
The city doesn’t sleep—it broods. Rain never washes it clean. Truth doesn’t shine here; it festers, waiting to be found by the poor bastard dumb enough to look.
Name’s Carson Vale. I bury secrets. But this one won’t stay dead.
It started with a woman—doesn’t it always? Said her name was Selene. Voice like velvet and broken glass. She handed me a manila envelope and smiled like she already knew how it ended.
Inside? A photo of a dead man. One I killed. One I trusted.
Now I’m neck-deep in a memory war I don’t remember joining, with tech that bleeds like ghosts and a city that watches through shattered glass.
In New Babylon, even the dead can see you coming.
Truth Burns is a serialized noir novella—equal parts smoke, blood, and bad decisions—where the past isn’t just prologue… it’s programmable.
