Sunlight was blocked by skyscrapers that towered into the clouds. Only an occasional shaft slipped through the gaps, looking pale as it passed through layers of neon advertisements and steam.
On the streets, colorful neon lights flashed even in broad daylight, illuminating the hurried steps of pedestrians and the complicated expressions on their faces. The boundary between machinery and skin blurred here, cybernetic body parts gleaming with a metallic sheen in the sunlight.
The air smelled of electronics and machine oil, mixed with the unusual aromas drifting from street food stalls. In the alleys at street corners, the low beat of electronic music could be heard from underground clubs.
Indoors, the scent of old books mingled with the faint woody fragrance of sandalwood furniture, creating a quiet, solemn atmosphere.
Oil paintings depicting landscapes and figures from the classical period hung on the walls. Their frames were exquisitely carved, their golden edges glimmering faintly under the lights. A floor lamp in the corner cast a soft glow, making the whole room feel warm and comfortable.
The desk was purely classical in style, carved with intricate patterns and coated in dark, glossy lacquer, giving it a dignified elegance. A bronze-colored lamp stood on it, its shade adorned with elaborate designs and casting a soft yellow glow. Beside it sat a neat stack of documents and several thick reference books.
The shelves against the wall were filled with all kinds of books, from classical literature to modern scholarship. Worn old volumes mingled with brand-new editions, joined by a few unique works.
Eiffel walked down the corridor, her blond hair swaying lightly with her steps and a stack of documents clutched in her hand. She gently opened the office door and entered, moving carefully so as not to disturb any important work that might