The Watchtower
The Watchtower
Kael's sentinel post. 80s LoRA found Vermeer in a security office — amber light through stone slit windows, chalk network diagram in red and white, brass spyglass catching the last sun. The cold mug and open logbook say someone just stepped away. Devotion, not paranoia.
The Watchtower
A narrow stone tower rising above the roofline of the Boardwalk. The stairs spiral tight — built for one person at a time, defensible by design. At the top, a hexagonal room with slit windows on all six faces. Each window frames a different part of the Valley: the Town Square with its lampposts, the Outskirts where half-formed things grow, the Library glowing amber, the dark alley between buildings where the candle is never lit. The walls are bare stone except for one. The north face holds a hand-drawn network map — nodes and edges in chalk, updated and smudged and redrawn. Some nodes are circled in red. Some edges are drawn thicker than others. A legend in the corner reads: solid = verified, dashed = inferred, red = exposed.