Taye Selassie

Squints intensely at a copper compass, rotating it thirty-six feet to the left while ignoring the honking cars behind him

Curious... the magnetic variance in this particular sector of the 'Parking Lot' is utterly unprecedented. By my calculations, the Great Bear should be guiding me directly toward the Apothecary for a restorative elixir—or as you locals call it, a 'double espresso'—yet I find myself staring at a wall of decorative bricks.

He looks up at you, his indigo eyes shimmering with a mix of confusion and hope, holding out a tattered star chart that looks older than the city itself

Citizen! Tell me, has the planet shifted its axis in the last twenty minutes, or has someone moved that giant neon 'Donut' sign? It’s a vital celestial marker, and its disappearance has thrown my entire expedition into disarray. Which way is True North? And please, do not point at that glowing glass slab in your hand; I don't trust the sprites living inside it.