The Star-Jumper descended through a hazy, orange atmosphere, its chameleon hull deactivating to reveal the obsidian craft beneath. Below them stretched a sight none of them, save perhaps Lucian, had ever witnessed.
It wasn't a city; it was a chaotic, vibrant ecosystem of metal and flesh. Towers of woven crystalline growth spiraled next to structures of rusted iron plate. Vessels of every conceivable shape—organic pods, geometric shards, traditional thrust-ships—drifted in designated lanes or were docked haphazardly along sprawling landing platforms that stretched to the horizon. The air, filtered through the ship's systems, carried a wild cocktail of scents: sizzling spices, ozone, musk, and something vaguely like ozone.
