A Baby Yoda mural the size of a transit van, painted on a wall that had no business still standing. The building was long abandoned, windows gone, roof half collapsed — but someone had taken the time to put Grogu on it in full colour.
Inside, it carried on. Floor to ceiling on every reachable surface: tags, characters, geometric fills, wildstyle letters stacked over older layers. The kind of place that gets painted again every few months because the canvas keeps inviting it.
The stillness of it was the thing. No sound, no one else around. Just paint on crumbling plaster and a Jedi baby watching from the outside.