Mandarin, but not from Sicily, rather freshly squeezed in the Orbital Hotel, under neon tubes and artificial gravity.
Not juicy fruit - more like a 3D-printed vitamin pill with a mandarin aroma.
Alongside Akigalawood: dark, smoky, but on polished steel - like pouring patchouli into an air conditioning unit.
In between, a jasmine - but not floral, more like a holographic bloom, perfumed from the printer.
A raspberry note flashes like a neon sign: sweet, brief, a bit artificial, gone immediately.
Passion fruit? More tropical simulation than real fruit - the scent of a virtual smoothie in the space club.
It smells of the future, but not of utopia - more like a designer lounge in NGC 4038/4039, where robots serve sprightly drinks.
The freshness lasts briefly, then the wood modules take over: angular, metallic, like a perfume made from carbon fibers.
One wavers between refreshment and a certain sterile coldness - as if sipping on a space station Orangina while the cosmos rushes outside.
A scent like a minimalist science fiction film: cool, aesthetic, but with a subtle trash note. Futuristic mandarin with dark sides.
