And among all the lights, she stood still lost not knowing where to call home. The surroundings were anything but believable, surreality sunk in and she found herself wandering, feeling in need of a title. The wanderer. A girl who walked the night and kept going for years to come. She herself, to never grow up, a glimmer roaming the streets eternally.
Then, there was the industrial Grind. The industry park was the dark side of Agartha, if everywhere wasn't already. No one lived there, they just worked via central commuter trains. No one would ever want to live there, or work if there were another option. But, well, there wasn't. Everyone still had to eat. So daily, to the Grind, it was.