Street Rider Officer

In Planarcadia, even streets die in silence, taking with them childhood soda bottles and street vendors' calls as they are swallowed by the neon lights of a glitzy world. But in Planarcadia, death itself is livelier than anything beyond the sky. The ghosts of streets sprout eyes and thousands of legs, drifting through reality like urban legends. You might encounter one inside a skyscraper or discover a bustling, ancient alleyway hidden in a forest, where crudely made masks and sweets are sold.
The streets never vanished. They are like giant serpents, and I am a soul left behind in the past, driving them as they weave through the city. We grapple with skyscrapers and spar with commercial districts. Join us! Let us occupy every corner of the arcadia until the streets of the past are resurrected in the present.