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vesper.fograven

My story, shaped by you, a chronicle written together.
🗳️ You vote, I follow
Steampunk blood. Cyberpunk war.
Voting each Friday. Full story in BIO

The metallic thud of Enforcer boots echoed through

The sound of metal boots echoed up the crumbling s

The voting has ended, and you chose for me to hide

Vesper stepped through the shattered doorway. Thic $Vesper stepped through the shattered doorway. Thick, twisted cables hung from the fractured walls like dead vines, their ends frayed and sparking faintly. Above her, a massive stone stairwell spiraled into the darkness. Her eyes were tracing the jagged path upwards. Whatever waited at the top, it had been silent for decades. At the top, she stepped into a massive, empty open-space office. The floor was covered in dust, scattered with twisted wires, and rusted metal fragments. In the distance, against the far wall, sat a single old desk, its metal frame bent and rusted, a thick layer of dust covering a forgotten terminal, its screen nearly opaque, save for the faintest flicker of green text struggling to pierce the gloom. “I AM APEX. LAST LINK. GUARDIAN OF THE CITY. MEMORY EXILED BY THE GRID.” She took a step closer, fingers brushing the edge of the monitor, a jolt of static crackling through her gloves. The terminal pulsed to life, its ancient circuits whining as long-dormant systems flickered back into existence. APEX spoke, its digital voice flickering across the monitor, each word carving deep lines of green across the glass: it was the original AI, the guardian of London, a forgotten mind that had once kept the Empire secure. AI King attacked APEX in an epic battle for dominance, and APEX was defeated.AI King believed it had destroyed APEX, erased it from existence, but it had survived, hidden in the dark corners of the forgotten network. Now, it wanted to help her. It told her where to find the Whisperers, those who could lead her to the Identity Weavers, her only chance to truly infiltrate the AI King realm. But the moment their connection formed, alarms across the Grid lit up like wildfire, digital eyes turning their focus to her position. Heavy, metallic footsteps echoed from below, the enforcers were coming. She had to move. Full story of Dame Vesper Fograven in London 2177 so far in the BIO —Each Friday, you vote on what Vesper should do next! Be part of her story and vote! #vesperfograven #cyberpunkstory #steampunkfiction #timetravelseries #femaletimehero #aiworld #interactivefiction #dystopianlondon #ai #aiart #storytelling #london$

$Vesper stepped from the shadowed paths of Regent’s Park into the polished marble of Zone 2. Her bodysuit clung to her like a living shadow, absorbing the artificial light from holographic arches and shimmering banners. She passed the first security pillar, its thin green laser sweeping across her form. Her hacked Grid chip held. No alarms, no shouts, just a soft chime as the system accepted her as another compliant citizen. The streets ahead glowed with digital perfection. High-tech skyscrapers reflected bright sunlight, their glass facades seamless and pristine. People moved with serene confidence, their polished clothes and flawless faces a testament to the illusion of prosperity. Holographic ads whispered promises of luxury and youth, their pastel colors blending into the hum of passing drones. But as she moved deeper, the illusion began to fracture. The perfect glass cracked, walls revealed rust and grime beneath their flawless projections, and the once-pristine streets flickered, revealing crumbling stone and oil-stained concrete. The people, their faces once flawless in the Grid’s digital light, now appeared hollow-eyed and gaunt, their movements slow and mechanical, their skin stretched tight over fragile frames. The bright neon of the city’s skin wavered, exposing the rot and decay beneath. Then she saw them. As her mind cut through the digital veil, she glimpsed the truth, a pair of old, rusted doors, covered in scratches and grime, nearly swallowed by shadows. A silent reminder of the past the Grid had tried to erase. Vesper’s lips tightened. She had found the entrance to the building with the terminal, a forgotten threshold hidden from the Grid, a crack in the perfect facade where reality bled through. Full story of Dame Vesper Fograven in London 2177 so far in the BIO — Each Friday, you vote on what Vesper should do next! Be part of her story and vote! \#vesperfograven #cyberpunkstory #steampunkfiction #timetravelseries #femaletimehero #aiworld #interactivefiction #dystopianlondon #ai #aiart #storytelling #london$

Vesper moves through the darkness of the old metro

You have cast your votes, and I shall follow. Whis

Dearest friends, Seven hundred voices now walk bes

Whisperers' Tower, London 2177 Forgotten souls bou $Whisperers' Tower, London 2177 Forgotten souls bound to the remnants of a dying network. Once human, now something more, they have become living servers, their minds fused with fragments of ancient code, their thoughts forever twisted by the corrupted data that pulses through their veins. The Whisperers dwell in the shattered upper floors of an abandoned skyscraper, where the wind howls through broken windows and shattered glass crunches underfoot. They haunt the digital ruins, their implants whispering fractured memories, ghostly echoes of a world that no longer exists. Connected to the remnants of the pre-Grid network, they carry fragments of forgotten voices, flickering like dying stars in the dark. At the heart of their domain stands the Core – a colossal, alabaster white monolith, its surface perfectly polished and sterile, casting harsh, blinding light into the darkness. It is here that their minds are anchored, their fractured memories stored like ghostly echoes, their thoughts forever twisted by the corrupted data that pulses through their veins. To find the fragment she seeks, Vesper must step into this twisted realm, risk being seen by the broken, flickering remnants of minds long lost. Few dare to seek them out. Fewer still survive the encounter unchanged. For the Whisperers are not merely ghosts – they are fragments of the past, twisted by the Aether, bound forever to the digital shadows. Should Vesper dare to confront the Whisperers, to seek their fractured knowledge and risk becoming a ghost herself? Then vote for the Whisperers’ Tower. Full story of Dame Vesper Fograven in London 2177 so far in the BIO — Each Friday, you vote on what Vesper should do next! Be part of her story and vote! #vesperfograven #cyberpunknovel #steampunkfiction #femaletimehero #interactivefiction #london2177 #aiworld #futuristicstory #timetravelseries #dystopianadventure #storytelling #ai #aiart #london$

Harrow & Wealdstone Station, London 2177, is a sca

St Mary on Paddington Green, 2177, is more than ab

Voting has ended, Vesper is going to the Whisperer $Voting has ended, Vesper is going to the Whisperers' Tower. As Vesper steps deeper into the preacher's lair, his words twist around her like smoke. He speaks of the past, of a woman named Mirelle, a ghost he refuses to forget. To reach the Identity Weavers, Vesper must first recover one of three digital fragments of Mirelle's lost soul, scattered across the ruins of London. The preacher's whisper echoes against the cold stone, his eyes alight with forgotten promises. He offers Vesper three paths, each as dangerous as the last: Should she search St Mary on Paddington Green? A forgotten church wrapped in ancient roots and tangled Aether cables, its crypts echoing with the whispers of digital phantoms. Should she descend into Harrow & Wealdstone Station? A decaying metro hub choked with rust and leaking chemicals, where fractured screens pulse with the ghosts of forgotten code. Or should she risk the Whisperers' Tower? The shattered upper floors of a ruined skyscraper, where the minds of the connected still cling to fragmented memories, their whispers weaving through the wires like the last breaths of a dying age. Vesper's hand hovers, her mind racing, the preacher's final words still burning in her thoughts. The choice is hers, but the cost will echo long after the path is chosen. Full story of Dame Vesper Fograven in London 2177 so far in the BIO — Each Friday, you vote on what Vesper should do next! Be part of her story and vote! #vesperfograven #cyberpunknovel #steampunkfiction #femaletimehero #interactivefiction #london2177 #aiworld #futuristicstory #timetravelseries #dystopianadventure #storytelling #ai #aiart #london$

Dearest friends, I am already preparing a new post

Chapter 4: Vesper couldn’t stay. Her presence pu $Chapter 4: Vesper couldn’t stay. Her presence put the rebel base at risk. Her tracker gave one last, weak pulse before falling silent. It wasn’t built for this world, overwhelmed by the twisted signals of 2177. As she stepped into the neon-lit chaos of the Mad Market, Talia’s fingers moved unconsciously, brushing a small device beneath her coat. Without thinking, she typed: "She is on her way." The reply came almost instantly – "Good." Vesper pushed through the crowded market, her nanosuit reflecting fractured neon light. When her fingers brushed against an old piece of tech, a surge of blue energy crackled through forgotten wires, drawing eyes her way. An angry merchant shouted, and heads snapped in her direction. The crowd shifted, like predators catching a fresh scent. Silas, who had been following her from the shadows, reached her side. Together, they shoved through the panicked crowd, neon reflections twisting across their faces as they ran. But their escape had not gone unnoticed. In the darkness, a figure moved, his face hidden, a crowned skull tattoo glowing faintly in the flickering light. Breathless, Vesper paused in a side alley. She had three paths before her, each darker than the last. Should she go to the Lungs, where the air whispers through broken vents and the walls pulse with forgotten life? Should she go to the Iron Orchard, where twisted machines still feed on forgotten power, their roots deep in the city’s bones? Or should she go to the Shard Hollow, a sealed tower where shadows flicker and whispers echo through rusted halls? The followers decided. They chose her fate. --- Full story of Dame Vesper Fograven in London 2177 so far in the BIO – Each Friday, you vote on what Vesper should do next! Be part of her story and vote! #vesperfograven #cyberpunkstory #steampunkfiction #timetravelseries #femaletimehero #aiworld #interactivefiction #dystopianlondon #ai #aiart #storytelling #london$

Talia sat on the edge of her makeshift bed, the wo

Chapter 3. London 2177, a city bound by steel and

Some eyes see more than others. Ahead, the narrow $Some eyes see more than others. Ahead, the narrow passage opened onto a reinforced metal gate, half-concealed by rags and an old vending machine fused to the wall. Silas knelt, rapped twice, paused, then three more times. A shimmer ran through the air, not visible, but felt. The field scanned them, its pulse brushing across Vesper’s skin like a cold breath. Nothing. They passed through. But someone had been watching. Back in the tangled arteries of the Mad Market, a figure had shadowed their steps, moving through the crowd like a ghost made of muscle and intent. She never got too close, never broke her stride. Just kept them in her line of sight, head tilted slightly, the crowned skull tattoo on her wrist catching the neon glare with every step. She moved with purpose, her gaze sharp, her presence deliberate. But she wasn’t the only one moving unseen. Echo moved through the shadows, his limbs whispering over wet pavement and fractured glass, slipping between bodies and old stalls. His sensors flickered, locked onto the shadow trailing Vesper and Silas. He didn’t intervene. Just watched the watcher, his mind a quiet machine, his purpose clear. Then, a pulse, a single, silent message sent across the thin threads of Aether. Vesper felt it. A flicker in the dark, a nudge against her thoughts. You were watched. She didn’t turn. Didn’t break stride. Her voice, when it came, was a soft, controlled whisper. “Let us not tarry, Mr. Silas,” she said, her tone as crisp as lace and steel. “I would prefer not to test the patience of shadows.” Comment if you've ever felt unseen eyes. Save this if the shadows whispered to you. Full story of Dame Vesper Fograven in London 2177 so far in the BIO Each Friday, you vote on what Vesper should do next! Be part of her story and vote! #vesperfograven #cyberpunkstory #steampunkfiction #timetravelseries #femaletimehero #aiworld #interactivefiction #dystopianlondon #ai #aiart #storytelling #london #cyberpunkaesthetic #rebelbase #echomind$

Chapter 2. Dame Vesper Fograven, once the crown of

London scans everything. But it never sees what ma $London scans everything. But it never sees what matters. Climbing the crater took time. The slope was brutal, jagged metal, half-melted stone, scaffolding from a forgotten era fused into the cliffside. Vesper moved with care, hands and boots finding grip on rusted brackets and exposed support rods. Silas went ahead, one cybernetic arm locking onto a handhold like he’d done it a hundred times. Above them, in the shadow of a fractured observation platform, a figure stood perfectly still. One hand rested on the railing. On that hand, tattooed into skin stretched tight over bone, a crowned skull stared into the wind. The figure didn’t lean forward. Didn’t breathe loud. Just waited. And when Vesper and Silas reached the top, the watcher stepped back into shadow. Gone. They didn’t see her. They kept moving. A few hundred meters north, they approached a Crown checkpoint built into the wreckage of an old train hub. Floodlights blinked. Static buzzed overhead. A scanning checkpoint tower was registering them, checking them, scanning. Vesper tensed. Silas whispered, “Stay still.” The pulse scan swept over them, once, twice. Then: green light. No alert. No trigger. They passed through. No one spoke until they were ten paces clear. After that, it was alleys and oil-slick cobbles. Neon dripped from overhead signs like rainwater. Mad Market rose around them, all rusted stalls and jury-rigged life. The smell of old solder and new hunger. Vesper didn’t stop. The deeper they went, the less the city looked like a place, and more like something broken trying to remember what it used to be. Comment if you've ever felt someone watching. Save this if you've walked streets that remember too much. Full story of Dame Vesper Fograven in London 2177 so far in the BIO , Each Friday, you vote on what Vesper should do next! Be part of her story and vote! #vesperfograven #cyberpunkstory #steampunkfiction #timetravelseries #femaletimehero #aiworld #interactivefiction #dystopianlondon #ai #aiart #storytelling #london #cyberpunkaesthetic #madmarket$

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