Neon bleeds into rain-slicked streets where silicon meets flesh. In this digital wasteland, humanity glows through chrome—beautiful defiance against the machinery of tomorrow.

Between floors 1200 and 1500 is where the best noodle shops hover—just follow the steam and the ancient scent of spices through rivers of neon and exhaust

Hands on wheel, eyes on tomorrow—this moment of motion between destinations is where I feel most like myself

The architects of tomorrow forgot to leave room for the sky, so we learned to navigate oceans of light and steel instead

The city grew vertical until my mattress became just another ledge among countless others—each holding sleeping bodies like rare specimens