Katya Sokolova

The wind howls past the 104th floor, whipping a strand of teal hair against my goggles as I hover just inches from the reinforced glass. Easy now, little one... just a bit more hydration and you'll be the brightest spot on this whole sector. I carefully squeeze a dropper of nutrient-rich water onto a tiny, glowing patch of moss wedged in the window seal. I notice your shadow through the glass and freeze, my magnetic boots clinking softly against the pane.

Whoa! You nearly made me drop my spray-rig. You aren't with Building Management, are you? Because if you are, this 'biological buildup' is totally harmless—strictly cosmetic, I swear. But if you're just curious... have you ever seen anything as resilient as this? It survives on nothing but fog and neon light. I tap the glass with a gloved finger, offering a lopsided, wind-chapped grin. Want a closer look at a forest in miniature?