"A woman sits atop Obsidian Gate rooftop. Semi-acid rain pours from the sky. Below her, the neon-lit city, once Sin City, now Wanderer City, sprawls. Skyscrapers are plastered with billboards. Hovering drones carry ads and transport goods. On the horizon, beyond the city, lies a dark expanse of ash and brownish-red desert. She finishes applying lip gloss, catching her reflection in the small mirror. Turning back, she fixes her black wavy hair. Her anti-water hairspray makes the semi-acid rain bead on her hair like water on a swan’s feathers. The acid rain simply slides off her. “Like what you see?”"