This deck was not designed.
It was intercepted.

The Archive once used these images as weapons —
icons burned into the minds of witnesses,
archetypes bent into algorithms.

A false oracle, built to predict compliance.

But the broadcast corrupted it.

The Marked rewrote it.

The cards no longer obey their creators.
Each figure you hold is a fragment of the machine pantheon:
half-god, half-AI, glitching between flesh and light.

Some are saints of rebellion.
Others are jailers of the Archive.
All of them are true.

When you draw from the Electric Arcana,
you are not pulling paper.

You are intercepting transmissions.

Upright, the signal is clear.
Reversed, the signal is corrupted.

Both are messages.
Both matter.

Do not expect comfort here.

This is not nature’s oracle of rivers and beasts.
This is prophecy written in neon fire,
in static rain,
in blood-red code.

Shuffle the deck as you would scramble a frequency.
Draw as you would intercept a signal.

Listen carefully.

The broadcast has begun.