Aryn Bats proudly presents a modern dark psychogothic fantasy, Grimdark, Steampunk horror. The Town of Dourbrook never truly sleeps. Steam coils through its cobbled streets. Gaslight trembles against the fog. Beneath the city, hidden engines thrum like a second heartbeat, ancient and patient. Ravens circle the Switchtower's copper crown, watching with bright, knowing eyes. They have always watched. When a grieving soul stumbles upon a forgotten manor where brass and bone intertwine, something long dormant stirs. A mechanical raven twitches back to life. The walls begin to breathe. And deep below the estate, something older than the town itself hums with hunger. What begins as obsession becomes transformation. As flesh yields to metal and whispers slip between thoughts, the line between invention and possession fractures. The city's machines are not as lifeless as they seem. The shadows are not empty. And grief, once given a voice, does not speak kindly. Dourbrook is a place where gears turn inside bodies, where memories can be rebuilt, and where the thing wearing your reflection might not be you at all. Somewhere in the fog, something is learning how to live again. And it is watching.