Albalablanch is a good fourty kilometers wide. It is a respectable size for a town. It is a monstruous size for a tower. It is a tad narrow for a universe.
As a town it has everything one would expect: prisons, police stations, morgues, cemeteries, crematoriums, plus all the industries gravitating around the business of death, violent or not (non violent deaths have been recently reported on the increase): weapon factories and shops, fast transportation, cigarettes, alcohol, a few drugs, hospitals. Unexpectedly, given its particular shape and situation, Albalablanch also has the kind of old, heavy infrastructure which takes a toll in the tens of thousands every time it collapses - and it collapses every other week.
Of course it has all the amenities to produce and care for death's main ingredient: life. Hence a substantial human population -around thirty million as I write-, profusion of cattle on the top levels, fields in the lower levels (the natural weather being so unreliable), schools and offices (whose main purpose is to provide favourable ground for mating), maternity wards and nurseries.
Albalablanch even has these little facilities humans are so fond of: clothes shops, food shops, houses and flats, hotels (entirely dedicated to business or sex and at their most succcessfull when combining both), places where humans can indulge in their bodily needs: bars and museums to keep the brain busy, sex-shops and prostitutes for a quick and easy fuck, millions of toilets to satisfy the pleasure of emptying their bowels, Churches, Mosques, Temples and Synagogues for the few remaining souls.
In short, Albalablanch could be described as a vibrant city by an outside observer, were there an outside left to observe it from.
