The city was a sprawling labyrinth of steel and neon, a testament to human ambition and excess. It stretched upward toward the heavens, a towering monument to progress that blotted out the stars. But beneath the dazzling facade, in the forgotten depths of the metropolis, lay the true heart of the city - a place where the downtrodden and desperate eked out a meagre existence.

Dante stood on the rain-slicked streets of the Lower Domes, his long coat billowing in the hot, toxic wind. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of mirrored shades, but they scanned the shadows with an unerring precision. He was a private investigator, one of the few remaining in a city that had all but surrendered its soul to the corporations that ruled it.

A message had come across his encrypted channel earlier that evening - a plea for help from someone claiming to have evidence of a corporate conspiracy that could shake the foundations of the city. The message had been brief, cryptic even, but it had piqued Dante's curiosity. He had always had a knack for sniffing out trouble, and this felt like something big.

As he walked deeper into the maze of decaying buildings and flickering holographic billboards, Dante couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Paranoia was a survival instinct in this city, but he had learned to trust his gut. He quickened his pace, his hand hovering near the concealed pistol at his side.