The city is a pressure cooker of neon and rain. Corporations have replaced gods, and the gap between the high-tech elite and the low-life street dwellers has never been wider. The air is thick with the hum of drones and the smell of cheap noodles.
The Rain Alley
A narrow passage smelling of ozone and damp trash. Flickering pink neon signs reflect in oily puddles. A loose power cable sparks against a rusted dumpster, hinting at the city's crumbling infrastructure.
