Radial Lore is not a brand. It is not a franchise, nor a series boxed in by seasons, IP constraints, or collector’s editions. It is what we call our fiction. The name is a declaration: not of ownership, but of method. Radial Lore radiates—spreading in arcs and spokes from a central creative core, branching into myth, memory, and madness. It is expansive, iterative, and intentionally nonlinear.
Yes, we revere pulp. We honor its legacy—the lurid covers, the breathless narration, the brute-force imagination of a world printed cheap and sold fast. But we are no longer beholden to its limitations. Radial Lore rises from the same restless energy, but it no longer needs paper at all. We have transcended the yellowing glue of brittle magazines. The medium is no longer the message—the message is.
In Radial Lore, stories aren’t just told—they intersect. Worlds bleed into one another. A character whispered about in one tale may stride boldly through another. A map etched in one corner of a story may reappear, rewritten, burned, and bloodied, in another cycle altogether. These are not Easter eggs—they are echoes, part of the radial structure. Each story stands alone, yet all are connected, spinning out from the same mythic generator.
This is not nostalgia. This is the forge where new legends are hammered into shape.
