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The original five.

A masked wraith-samurai stands guard in a rain-soaked cyberpunk alley, glowing katana drawn.

A hooded spellcaster conjures a violet orb of power, runes and glitch-code swirling around her.

A translucent digital spirit, rendered in pure light and code, standing silent in the dark.

A street mechanic with sparking cybernetic arms, ready for whatever the underworld throws at her.

A titan looms over a rain-drenched city skyline, twin eyes burning through the storm.
Four pieces. The collection grows darker.

A funeral priestess walks the burned district, embers drifting from her veil like snow that never lands.

A bounty hunter in a wolf mask — when the signal cuts out, you're already found.

An android nun repaired with gold — every crack a prayer she survived.

She delivers anything, anywhere, once. Tonight the package is glowing.
Three pieces. The strongest of the collection.

She never moves. The city moves for her.

A theater demon with a hundred masks. The face beneath is the one you fear you deserve.

Every night at 3:33 he raises his baton, and the dead remember their instruments.
Two pieces. Near the summit.

The war ended a century ago. Nobody told him. Nobody dares.

Goddess of every screen that ever went dark. She keeps what the signal loses.
One piece. The heart of Wraith & Bloom.

The namesake of the collection. A wraith guarding the last living flower in the city — proof that something soft can survive anything.