In the year 2142, storytelling was outlawed. The government deemed it “destabilizing,” a threat to the bland uniformity of its highly efficient regime. Emotions were streamlined, creativity was sanitized, and citizens were issued the same daily narrative: wake, work, sleep, comply. But in the shadowy underbelly of society, the String Theory Gang, a motley crew of psychedelic puppets, hatched a plan to bring stories back—one drag at a time.

Their invention, the Narrapen, wasn’t just a vape—it was a portal. One puff didn’t just tell you a story; it flung you headfirst into it. A single inhale, and you were a galactic detective chasing an existential mystery, or a lovesick sponge in an underwater opera. But there was a catch: once you lived a narrative, it became part of you forever.

The Narrapen sparked chaos and delight in equal measure. Users abandoned their government-issued routines to chase dreams of cosmic love, epic battles, and surreal puppet melodramas. But as the regime caught wind of this storytelling rebellion, they sought to weaponize the Narrapen—to rewrite history, erase dissenters, and turn rebels into obedient, narrative-tweaked drones.

And as for the puppets? Too many puffs left them dangerously unstable, half-detective, half-heroic sponge—struggling to hold their strings together while trying to save humanity from a world without stories.