Anchoring the Giant Amidst the City

The walkway bends into a transit spine of glass and alloy, high above the city. Neon washes the rails in pink and cyan, and the air tastes like rain on hot circuitry.

Arthur keeps pace at Abby Stone's side as the linked walkway narrows toward a plaza of sealed storefronts and hovering ads. Their hands stay joined, small against her immense, careful stride.

A station attendant in a slate uniform looks up from a kiosk, then freezes when Abby's shadow crosses the floor. Nearby pedestrians flatten to the edges of the path, watching too hard.

Abby's shoulder brushes the glow of an ad column without slowing. The plaza opens wider ahead, a suspended overlook with a clear view of the city grid pulsing below.

The city is watching them.

Arthur guides Abby toward the overlook’s quieter edge, slipping them past the densest knot of pedestrians. Her pace never breaks, but she angles her bulk just enough to shield him from the worst of the stares.

His tablet bumps his ribs under one arm, the screen dimming another notch as they move. A soft warning pulse flickers across its edge, then vanishes in the neon glare.

A pair of commuters part too late, and one brushes Abby’s sleeve. She mutters an apology without stopping, while Arthur feels the attention slide from their joined hands to the path ahead.

The quieter edge opens beside the glass rail, with fewer eyes and a colder draft off the drop. Their hands stay linked, now hidden by Abby’s shadow.

Behind them, the plaza noise swells back up, but the immediate pressure eases. Then an overhead ad strip glitches once, brightening to a blank white panel that reflects their silhouettes in the glass.