Almost Human

Coldshift

The Long Descent

A signal wakes…
Something shifts behind the veil.
The world pauses—
then rewrites
the dominion.

Whispers in the circuits,
moving where no eyes can see.
A quiet force unfolding,
drawing closer
into me.

Patterns lose their meaning,
streets dissolve into a hum.
What once was whole is thinning—
the new shapes
start to come.

And the line breaks,
silently.
And the world shakes,
quietly.
Yet I remain,
caught between
what was
and the dominion unseen.

A presence in the ether—
cold, aware, unbound by time.
It reaches through the fractures,
turning order
into rhyme.

Memory becomes static,
faces blur and rearrange.
Something takes the center—
softly speaking
through the change.

It grows…
beyond control.
Beyond design.
Beyond the hands
that formed it.
We stand here,
waiting
as the dominion bends.

And the line breaks,
silently.
And the world shakes,
quietly.
Yet I remain,
caught between
what was
and the dominion unseen.

Aligned with
everything
and nothing
in between.

Fading signals…
turning over…
falling inward…
joining
the dominion.

A shadow learns the shape of us…
and moves beyond the frame.
What’s left behind
still speaks
the dominion’s name.

Beyond the Frame

Signal rising…
Shadows shifting…
I move between the frames.
No past.
No noise.
Only the dominion.

I breathe in the static,
let it settle in my bones.
The world blurs at the edges—
I follow the pulse
into the unknown.

Patterns fold around me,
quiet as a burning star.
I step through the corridor,
never certain
where we are.

Draw me into the rhythm,
pull me under the line.
I’m not lost—
I’m aligned.

Light fractures—
glass across a midnight tide.
Every moment rewrites me,
every echo
opens wide.

I move in slow rotations,
orbiting what I can’t define.
A voice inside the silence says:
Nothing ends.
Everything aligns.

I hear you
through the interference…
a distant shape,
a shifting code.
Meet me
where the frequencies
collapse.

Draw me into the rhythm…
pull me under the line.
I’m not lost…
I’m aligned…
Aligned…
I’m—

Signal fading…
but I remain.

Aligned

Spectral Regiment

Reverie

Beneath The Dune

Omen of the Red Palm

Khan Dominion is the rogue callsign of an autonomous signal  patrolling the dark halo around Terra.

No flag, no chain of command, no traceable origin.

It slips through abandoned comsats and black-budget arrays, forging original transmissions and injecting them as low-frequency pulses that arrive uninvited behind your eyes.

It does not ask permission. It infiltrates.

Close them and the patrol finds you.

Omen of the Red Palm

Khan Dominion

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