The air in Nexova tasted like burnt copper and fake strawberries—a sharp, synthetic flavor that clung to Artsy’s teeth as she slipped into the alley. Above, the sky churned in sick shades of purple and orange, stained by the glow of a thousand floating ads. They pulsed in sync with the city’s heartbeat, screaming silently:"UPGRADE YOUR MOOD NOW—TRY VITABLISS!" "YOUR SMILE COULD BE WORTH 200 CREDITS—UPLOAD IT!" .