It was arctic and rainy and foggy. The wintry cold of the night air exhaled a grave chill as the dusty moonlight poured down calm solace on weary night travellers going home that could still muster some modicum of energy to peer up at the dim gazing beacon that was the moon above. Cool sea air rich with salt and the scent of city poured into the valley from the coast. The clouds charged forward from watery places to cover the land and obscure the star’s melancholic facets, and from which the beginning of winter awoke with a silent yawn. An amazing metropolis gleamed brilliantly like neon through a rain spattered window like great spectacles of spectral auras of green and blue flecked with polka-dots of red, titian, saffron, and orpiment. Brightly lit arc beams of advertisement lamps shining onto the clouds above swayed illuminating the misty air making it dance as the water crystals melted from the warm touch of the light, making them illuminate brilliantly for a few seconds before disappearing forever. This city, so great and wide in its hundreds of miles and millions of peoples, in its many leagues of length and width, glowed like glossy phosphorescence against the world as an unending twilight clashing with the neptunian mantle about it. The sea swallowed this light almost as if it were food. This city did not only confine itself to the realm its hoisted, earth-shackled anchors clung to for architectural and arcological support, for great towering beam-held mega highways that carried thousands of lanes in and out of the city spanned into the clouds and above, and from it roared the constant siege of traffick, foreign and domestic. The city was Tchremados, on the great but lonely world of Fulden, the white sanded and snow swept steppe land which its denizens only knew of as home. City life was encumbered with loud rushing vehicles and float-buses, air-engines and railway platforms, fast paced thinking and moving crowds blitzing in and of chaotic dins of crossway support plazas and sky paths, one had to be a faster individual to exist here. It was a concrete and neon jungle, a densely populated forest of ancient temples, eroding buildings and shopping centers, office pillars and decaying, bricked off wooden fossils of the past lay deep underneath the sprawling mega forrest of city above, laden with the poor living inside old and crumbling ancient structures falling apart around them at the bottom, within dug out rooms of clay and iron and brick, they although making up the majority of Tchremados, were forgotten under the headless rush of the modern world above them, burying them into the mud below. It was a crime world. It was a damp city, for its placement near the ocean, built directly out of ancient fishing wharfs and sail docks. A city of sin. Here collected at the refined and clean top layers lay the sophisticated people, aristocrats, bankers, social and government workers, clerks, and others who profited off of the hard labor of the blue collar and those who existed in the middle layers, they who worked hellish hours and under poor conditions. Massive corporations that specialized in prosthetic enhancements, cybernetic upgrade applications, and other mechanical engineering dominated the world of fashion and cosmetics. Skyscraper farms covered the majority of the area providing ample supply of untainted and unprocessed organic food only the most wealthy could afford. Green roofed libraries larger than the greatest of arenas, containing a nie-infinite source of worldly knowledge, lined great causeways and highways providing all those who could afford membership private access to world and the city’s history, meeting rooms, ballrooms, and assortments of all private and selfish services. There were gigantic boarding and public schools for all ages, of whome were the utmost privilege and opulent, and humongous upper-productories churning out the sleekest and most expensive goods on the planet, from cars to bionics to weaponry to packaged food and all sorts of devices these corporations worked ceaselessly. Greater Manor-apartments and comb-housing districts lined the upper atmosphere with the wealthy and upper class, the poor had no place here.
And so, there was crime. The momentous troy of lawbreakers whose numbers were so awesome that trying to comprehend the task of catching them all would the break the soul of any grown man. Will was the driving force behind Tchremados, not logic nor compassion. It was every man for himself, and there were only few, grouped into such minute corps, that it took all their time and energy and effort to at least enforce the law against one fifth of the city’s criminals. It was obvious to tell who was who in the bottommost layers, but when bringing justice came to the upper layers of Tchremados, it became a difficult quest, and so it was not focused on, simply for the reason that those who employed law enforcement too were hired by the corporations. But there was the Urban Defenders Ward, and the rest of larger law-keeping organizations, to quell crime, and bring justice, or what little of it mattered to the world. Their job was a thankless one, one they would go unsung and unremembered for. But they held off the tide of chaos, inch by inch, life for life.