The year is 200X.
The sun’s long gone and the hot rain has finally let up. Storefront signs drench the bustling streets in turquoise and violet. Your ears buzz with the babel of haggling, gossip, laughter, and shouting in more than a dozen languages.
An android jostles past you on the slidewalk, crackling a muffled apology. Across the street, between the graffiti-covered dojo and the animatronic T-rex, TV sets stacked like shrine offerings blast the latest home arcade hits in 16‑color splendor.
Overhead, twin aerocars bank toward the docks, cutting around a glitching billboard screaming ADVENTURE BEYOND THE STARS!—for any pilots bold or desperate enough to risk those dodgy subspace carriers.
A flash from a side alley snaps you back to street level—electricity, maybe. A shape emerges: humanoid, matte black, with glowing eyes and a katana sheathed across its back. It strolls by without a glance. That’s when you notice: draped across its shoulders, snoring gently, is a white cat wearing an upside-down ramen cup like a crown.
Welcome to Neon Harbor.
Contact:
Send a note to Ed Glaser, benevolent dictator for life of Neon Harbor.