The rain in Neo-Veridia didn't wash things clean; it just turned the grime into a shimmering, oily neon smear. Kael sat on the edge of a rusted ventilation duct, his boots dangling over a thousand-foot drop into the smog-choked lower wards. He checked his internal chronometer. It was 02:44 AM. The city was screaming.
Around him, the skyline was a jagged cathedral of glass and light. Towering holographic koi fish swam through the air between skyscrapers, their scales glowing with the blue-and-pink hues of the Sora Corp logo. Every surface was a screen. Every shadow was for sale. 1700x1020 Sci Fi Cyberpunk Neon Wallpaper. Neon...
He pulled a cracked tablet from his pocket. The screen flickered, casting a harsh violet light across his face. He wasn't here for credits tonight. He was looking for a memory—a specific, unencrypted file rumored to be hidden in the broadcast relay of the Shinjuku Spire. It was the only proof that the "Blue Sun" incident wasn't a glitch, but a mass-deletion of the city’s poorest citizens. The rain in Neo-Veridia didn't wash things clean;
Kael stood up, his silhouette sharp against the glowing horizon. He had the file. Now, he just had to survive the descent. He stepped off the ledge, his magnetic grapples hissing as they bit into the steel skin of the building. Below him, the city waited—a beautiful, glowing lie. It was 02:44 AM