When silence lingers too long, it begins to whisper. When memory won't hold, it rewrites. And when grief burns deep enough, it leaves behind more than ashes.
In A Silence That Isn't Peace, former combat medic Callen Mercer returns to a war zone after the ceasefire, assigned to tag and bury the dead. But the silence he finds is alive with movement. Graves that shift. Footsteps that follow. And a body that bears his name. As Callen digs deeper, the mission becomes a haunting confrontation with repetition, guilt, and a war that may never have ended.
In Loop 1973, a Chilean radio broadcaster wakes to the same coup day-again and again. September 11th restarts each time he tries to escape, trapping him in a collapsing world of erased voices, vanishing records, and a woman who might not exist. The more he transmits, the more the past pushes back. Somewhere inside the static, something is listening-and reshaping time itself.
In The Ember Room, a grieving father travels to a secluded Icelandic ritual site to burn his pain away. But the flames demand more than offerings-they feed on buried memory. As ancient symbols awaken and fire gives shape to things lost, Daniel must face a grief that isn't done with him yet.
Three lives consumed by silence, repetition, and flame.
When the past refuses to stay buried, what's left behind may not be who you were-but what you've become.
