The Clockwork Empress and the Neon Samurai

Rain hammered the corrugated metal roof of Anya’s workshop, each drop a staccato beat against the symphony of whirring gears and hissing hydraulics she constantly battled. Tokyo 2247 was a city that never slept, but even its neon arteries seemed sluggish under this deluge. Anya wiped grease from her brow, her reflection shimmering in the chrome skullcap nestled atop her shaved head. The skullcap housed a neural interface, a relic of an age long past when humanity still clung to flesh and bone. Now, cybernetic enhancements were as commonplace as breathing, and Anya's augmented body was a testament to that fact: sleek chrome limbs humming with power, eyes that glowed with data streams, and a network of bio-wires snaking beneath her skin.

She hunched over a workbench cluttered with disassembled automata - clockwork creations mimicking long-dead emperors and geishas. They were prized by collectors who yearned for a touch of the past in this hyper-futuristic world. Anya was one of the few remaining artisans capable of repairing these intricate mechanical marvels, her skills passed down from generations of her family who had served the Tokugawa Shogunate centuries ago.

A soft chime echoed through the workshop, alerting her to an incoming message. A holographic projection flickered to life: a stern-faced man with a shaved head and eyes that glowed an unnatural crimson.