Past the exhaust and the bumper to bumper gridlock, where the yellow cabs crawl like a river of slow metal. Look up. A monument of rust and bone scrapes the smoggy sky, a massive cybernetic skull fused to a towering high rise. Its jaws are lined with storefronts. Its temples are wrapped in flashing digital billboards. Industrial smokestacks crown its cracked cranium, spewing out the heavy breath of an empire that never sleeps. This is the architecture of the afterlife. A mega structure where humanity didn't conquer death, we just moved in, wired it for electricity, and charged rent.