Deep, blue water. Calm waves flow over the surface of its shadowy depths, occasionally catching the glare of an early morning Sun. A chime rings out and we start moving. Darkness gives way to subtle outlines which in turn give way to a clear view of a sandy floor. Scattered shells, rocks, and smaller ocean wildlife skirt around under influences of their own or of the currents surrounding them.
Our view pitches upwards, revealing a beach. A dock stretches out into the water. Boats bob in time with the waves, anchored in place by lines tied off to cleats along the edge of the dock. As we pitch even higher, a city comes into view.
The city is a sprawl of tightly packed buildings cut out by winding streets and canals. We jump into motion, zooming into a canal outlet, under bridges, and up a set of stairs. After nearly crashing into a pedestrian as we turn a corner at the top of the canal's stairs, text flashes indicating that a blind spot has been reported. Knowing that maintenance crews would be dispatched briefly to handle that issue, we speed off. Several people point and wave as we soar overhead. Driverless cars occasionally join in the greeting with curt horn honks.
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Another leg of our journey comes into view in the form of a street sign: Spruce Boulevard. This street is different from the ones prior. It's made from cobblestone and devoid of vehicles. People cross freely from both sides, only needing to dodge each other and the spruce trees that line the sidewalks. Making sure we're clear of the many branches, we turn and head west.
On our left, A billboard hangs over the sidewalk, affixed partway up a green building. It reads "Magnolia, ft. Tom Cruise, Julianne Moore". Across the street, white blossoms dominate a square surrounded by benches and trees. Neither are our destination.
We fly straight until we reach Alyssum Avenue. Turning right, the flow of people slows to a trickle. Expected at this time of day. We wouldn't even be near here if it weren't for our urgent task.
We pass a tea shop; its chairs and stools spill out the door, providing less cramped options for sitting than what we're able to see through the windows and pilled up books behind them. Far too chaotic for our sensors.
Reaching our final turn, we slip into a side street. A mass of stained cloth and sticks block the midpoint of the narrow street. We drift down toward a loose drape of fabric situated below a sign that reads "Fortuna Exceptional". A small beep escapes from our speakers, trying to get the attention of whoever dwells within.