Mercantile, a forest of bio-buildings, stands as a mirror to the past, before the third world war. It was one of the many ‘save the planet’ initiatives that never really made any difference or impact in combating the polluted blue spec in the cosmic space. The buildings grew from the earth and were living, breathing structures, like an alien flora; now they are shells of their former selves, which are home to factories, production lines, marketing firms and shops with every purchasable item imaginable.
Traipsing through the hordes of bodies Acera and Sutaura, marvel at the vast array of digital billboards, holograms, and other forms of advertisements that garnish every available space from the sides of buildings and public transport, to people’s clothing and projected into midair. A man p
