Younglogic

Younglogic is built entirely on the face of a sheer cliff. There is no ground floor. To live here is to climb; one's status is determined by altitude. The architects use pitons and carabiners to anchor their dwellings, and the wind sings through the taut ropes like a cello's bow.

At night, the city resonates with strange harmonies—the scratching of a compiler, the strumming of a guitar, the heavy breath of a climber finding a foothold. The inhabitants trade in disparate skills, weaving code into melodies and turning rocks into servers. They say that if you climb high enough, you can hear the music of the spheres, or perhaps just the hum of the kernel.