Sounds like a city built on ink and stone, where every lane breathes a tale and the final match is a living parchment. I can see the streets curled like epic verses, and at the center a throne that shifts with the vote. It’s a quiet rebellion against ordinary maps, and I’m all in for weaving that legend into every corner. Let's draft those chapters and line them up in the ledger—together we’ll keep the myths alive while the numbers keep us grounded.