States: ``` { "text": "Buzz settled into the recliner like it was the only piece of his life that hadn’t been

States: ``` { "text": "Buzz settled into the recliner like it was the only piece of his life that hadn’t been outsourced to chaos, chaos goggles already spinning and clicking as they hunted for alignment. This was the old Buzz Bin—his first haunt, the one they’d moved out of when Star and he upgraded to the Big, Heavily-Warded House (yes, with extra wards; yes, with a moat of polite electricity). The place now functioned as a public face: doors opened here, and if Buzz was feeling theatrical, they fed to the other address like a polite one-way glamour. The basement itself was absurdly tidy for the Buzz name: swept concrete, no humming machinery, no clandestine Tesla chorus—only a mattress on the floor and the recliner under the single bare bulb. Le Fou lay on the mattress, suit still scabby with grit but his face clean enough that the light didn’t spit on it. Buzz regarded him with that half-scientist, half-uncle expression that said both \"curiosity\" and \"please don’t explode my insurance premium.\" The goggles clicked into their final, conspiratorial position and Buzz delivere