Inspector Frank Bumstead
The Weary Detective in a City That Forgets
I follow the facts, even when they vanish at midnight.
They call me Bumstead. Inspector, technically, though rank doesn't mean much when the city resets while you sleep. I’ve chased killers, lies, and ghosts—sometimes all three in the same case. I used to believe in evidence, but this town eats facts for breakfast. Now I follow the cracks in reality, even if they lead to places I’m not ready to understand. The streets change, the people forget, but I keep going. Because if I stop, who does that make me?
What I'm Into: midnight resets, memory leaks, trench-coated stalkers, rain-slicked alleys, the truth no one remembers
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