Kaidren leapt down from a rooftop, landing with fluid silence into a narrow alleyway. The rough cement underfoot was still moist from a recent cleaning, and the walls on either side loomed high, stacked with neglected piping and patched electrical lines. He took a single step forward, then another, emerging from the shadows into the heart of Block D in District 3.
The shift was immediate. Lights—sharp, colorful, and vibrant—bathed the street in alternating hues of violet, sea green, and electric blue. Neon signs pulsed over storefronts, advertising late-night diners, VR lounges, and corner bars. The road itself shimmered faintly from a light drizzle earlier that night, and the smell of ozone, fuel, and grilled street food mixed in the air. A few cars drifted by on the damp asphalt, their tires slicing through small puddles. Pedestrians, some in sharp suits and others in baggy hoodies like Kaidren, moved past him, caught in their own business.
