A young Jensu stood in the center of a circular training arena.
The floor beneath his bare feet was smooth black stone, scarred by countless impacts from past battles. Overhead, tall pillars ringed the arena, their polished surfaces reflecting the pale light that poured down from the open ceiling.
Four figures stood at the edge of the platform, watching silently.
At the center of the arena stood a tall, slender woman clad in brilliant armor.
Her armor shone like polished silver, shaped with the elegance of a paladin’s plate but refined with subtle feminine curves. Long plates draped from her waist like ceremonial cloth. Her ears tapered to delicate points like an elf’s, though there was nothing mystical about her presence.
Her gaze alone was enough.
Her eyes were silver.
Cold.
Piercing.
They rested on Jensu like blades.
The air itself felt heavy beneath that stare.
“I am aware that you are a Shisue,” she said evenly.
Her voice carried across the arena without effort.
“And I am aware that you are among the last survivors of a dangerous species.”
Jensu stood still, unsure whether he was supposed to speak.
The woman continued.
“The Emperor sees potential in you.”
A faint breeze stirred the hem of her armor.
“My name is Cassandra Gills.”
She stepped forward once.
The sound of her armored boot striking the stone echoed through the arena.
“I am the Emperor’s right hand and the leader of the Advocates.”
The observers at the edge of the arena remained silent.
“Our order exists to enforce justice where conventional power cannot reach. We operate beyond the jurisdiction of any government.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“Our will is the will of justice.”
She paused.
“And the will of the Emperor.”
She stopped directly in front of him.
“Today, you begin your training, and today, I become your leader.”
Jensu watched her carefully, unsure how to respond.
Cassandra raised one hand.
The air around her fingers shimmered.
Six small daggers of pure energy formed instantly, glowing faintly as they hovered above her palm.
They spun slowly in the air like obedient predators waiting for a command.
Her expression never changed.
“If you are anything like your father,” she said quietly, “your reflexes should be exceptional.”
The daggers tilted downward.
Each blade pointed directly at Jensu.
“By the time we finish your training,” Cassandra continued calmly, “nothing will ever touch you again.”
The first dagger shot forward.
Jensu flinched.
The blade stopped a breath from his throat.
The second dagger lunged.
It halted inches from his eye.
The third.
The fourth.
The fifth.
Each one stopping just before piercing his body.
Jensu collapsed backward onto the stone floor, his breath shaking as panic flooded his chest.
He looked like a frightened animal.
Cassandra stared down at him without emotion.
With a small motion of her fingers, the daggers dissolved back into light.
“You hesitate,” she said calmly.
“You die boy.”
Her voice carried no anger.
Only certainty.
“Stand up.”
Jensu scrambled to his feet.
The daggers reformed instantly.
They attacked again.
This time faster.
One after another the blades shot forward.
Each stopping just before touching his face.
“You just died.”
Followed by another dagger
“You just died again.”
Followed by two more daggers
“And, you died again.”
Jensu staggered backward as the last blade halted against his forehead.
Before he could recover, Cassandra kicked him.
The strike knocked him flat onto the stone floor.
“If you are so eager to die boy,” she said coldly, “I will simply do it myself.”
Tears burned in Jensu’s eyes as he wiped his face with the back of his sleeve.
He glared up at her.
“My name is Jensu,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Not boy.”
For the first time, Cassandra looked down at him with faint interest.
Like someone observing an insect that had suddenly learned to bite.
“You will not be addressed by name,” she said calmly, “until you prove that your name is worth remembering.”
She turned away slightly, her voice hardened.
“Stand up.”
Behind them, the observers quietly snickered.
Then like clouds rolling in to cover the light of the sun, the memory faded.
Jensu finished the last lines of his report and closed the holopad.
Outside the shattered window, the night wind drifted through the suite, carrying the distant hum of Light City far below.
Footsteps suddenly rushed down the hallway.
A moment later, frantic knocking rattled the door, followed by panicked voices.
“Sir?! Sir, are you alright?!”
Jensu sighed quietly then spoke.
“Come in.”
Creaks from the door frame filled the air waves as the door slid open, and several members of the Lumiere Hotel staff hurried inside.
They froze the moment they saw the room.
Glass covered the floor like glittering frost. Curtains fluttered violently through the blown-out windows. A cold night breeze swept through the suite, scattering papers and debris across the polished floor.
One of the attendants gasped.
Another worker bowed immediately.
“Please forgive us, sir! We did not expect— we did not know—”
They struggled to find the right words.
No one in the room seemed certain how to address someone from the Empire.
Jensu leaned back casually placing both hands on the glass filled ground below to prop himself up, completely unfazed.
“I didn't know this was a greeting custom for humans.” he said with a faint smirk.
The staff stiffened nervously.
“We deeply apologize, Advocate. We will increase security immediately.”
Jensu waved the idea away.
“No need.”
He glanced briefly at the shattered window.
“He won’t be coming back.”
The employees exchanged confused looks.
“He already made his point,” Jensu continued calmly. “And he knows there’s no situation where he beats me.”
He extended one hand.
A soft current of wind swept across the room.
From the far corner, his white trench coat lifted gently off the couch and drifted through the air before settling neatly over his shoulders.
Jensu adjusted the collar.
“I assume this will all be cleaned up by the time I return.”
Before anyone could respond—
He stepped onto the edge of the shattered window frame.
And leaned forward.
Then he fell.
Gasps erupted behind him.
The Advocate dropped like a stone from the top floor of the Lumiere.
Wind roared past his ears as the neon skyline of Light City rushed upward to meet him.
Far below, the streets glowed with color and movement.
Jensu angled his body slightly, allowing the air currents to catch him.
The fall slowed.
He descended the last few meters in silence before landing lightly on the pavement.
Not a sound.
Not even a crack in the concrete.
Jensu pulled his hood over his head and stepped into the flowing crowds of Light City.
For a brief moment he thought to himself:
"Strange time to be remembering Cassandra’s training."
Then he disappeared into the sea of people.
The streets of Light City were alive with motion.
Neon billboards stretched high between glass towers, their shifting advertisements washing the streets below in waves of electric color. Hover vehicles drifted through the air lanes above, their engines humming softly as they passed between buildings.
Music spilled from storefront speakers. Vendors shouted over the noise, advertising skewers of sizzling meat and glowing drinks poured from glass cylinders. Street performers gathered small crowds at intersections, their holographic displays dancing across the pavement.
For a moment, Jensu almost forgot he was on a mission.
Aside from the humans themselves, the city did not feel terribly different from the Empire.
Just behind.
Their technology lagged decades behind what he was used to seeing.
Jensu pulled the hood of his trench coat over his head and stepped deeper into the crowd. The red Advocate insignia disappeared beneath the folds of fabric as he blended into the movement of pedestrians.
Stolen story; please report.
He listened.
Observed.
Watched how people interacted with one another.
Soon the bright commercial district gave way to a louder gathering.
An underpass stretched across the street ahead, its concrete supports covered in graffiti and flickering ad projections. Stairs climbed along the side of the structure where a crowd had gathered.
Dozens of humans stood shoulder to shoulder holding picket signs.
Some read:
SAVE THE SUPERIORS
Others read:
SUPERIORS ARE HUMAN TOO
Jensu slowed his pace, watching from the edge of the gathering.
“Superiors are not animals!” one man shouted from the center of the crowd. “You can’t keep them locked in cages!”
A woman beside him thrust her sign into the air.
“If you treat them like animals, they’ll start acting like animals!” she yelled angrily. “Integrate them into society!”
Several people around her cheered.
But not everyone agreed.
A second group across the street began shouting back.
“They’re dangerous!”
“They’re monsters!”
“They don’t belong with normal people!”
The shouting escalated quickly.
Voices overlapped.
Anger spread through the crowd like a spark through dry grass.
Someone threw a can.
Another hurled a half-eaten meal.
Within seconds the protest collapsed into chaos.
Humans shoved one another.
Punches flew.
Signs shattered against the pavement as the crowd turned on itself.
Human against human.
Jensu watched quietly from the edge of the street.
The violence was familiar.
Too familiar.
For a brief moment he thought about the persecution his own people had endured.
Then gunshots cracked through the air.
Three sharp blasts fired into the sky.
The crowd froze.
Military vehicles rolled into the intersection moments later, soldiers spilling out with rifles raised.
“Everyone disperse!” one of the officers shouted.
The soldiers moved through the street quickly, grabbing protesters and forcing them to the ground.
Curiously, Jensu noticed something.
The military arrested only the protestors.
The angry mob that had attacked them was simply ordered to leave.
No cuffs.
No punishment.
Just a warning.
Jensu watched the scene unfold in silence.
Then he turned and continued walking.
Drawing attention was the last thing he needed right now.
A faint vibration pulsed in his coat pocket.
Ding.
Jensu reached inside and pulled out a small handheld device resembling a simple phone.
A red dot blinked across the screen.
It was moving.
Then it stopped.
Jensu smirked faintly.
“Oh, he finally stopped moving” He said as he began picking up his pace.
The glow of Light City began to fade.
The buildings grew older here—taller shadows, cracked concrete, flickering neon signs that buzzed like dying insects. Pipes ran along the sides of buildings, leaking thin streams of water that trickled into narrow gutters below.
The smell hit him next.
Sewage.
Stale water.
Rust.
Ahead of him, the massive wall separating Light City and Dark City rose like a steel cliff against the skyline. Floodlights mounted along its surface cut pale beams through the night, illuminating patrol towers spaced along its length.
Jensu slowed his pace.
“Interesting…”
He glanced around the neighborhood.
The streets here were quieter. Dim alleys stretched between crooked buildings. Small groups of people lingered in doorways, their conversations hushed, their posture far more relaxed than the tightly regulated districts of Light City.
“Military patrols must not come here often,” he murmured.
His tracker vibrated again.
The signal was close.
Across the street, tucked between two decaying apartment blocks, stood a small cabin-like structure. Its wooden exterior looked strangely out of place among the surrounding concrete.
The red dot stopped there.
“Peculiar.”
Jensu crossed the street quietly.
A narrow alley ran beside the cabin, puddles reflecting the flickering glow of broken neon lights above. Somewhere nearby, a loose metal sign clanged softly in the wind.
Jensu raised one hand.
The air shifted.
A gentle current of wind spread outward from him, swallowing the sound of his footsteps and muffling the noise of the surrounding street.
Even the buzzing neon sign seemed to dull.
He moved toward the side of the cabin.
A cracked window sat slightly above eye level, its glass fogged by the warm light inside.
Jensu positioned himself just beside the wall, barely within sight of the opening.
Slowly, he leaned forward and looked inside.
The assassin was there.
But he wasn’t alone.
Another figure stood across the room, seated beneath a hanging lamp. The harsh light cast long shadows across the floor, obscuring the person’s face.
Jensu remained perfectly still.
Inside, the assassin spoke nervously.
“Sir… I don’t think you understand. We’ve raised the stakes too high attacking an Advocate.”
He paced anxiously across the room.
“It’s one thing fighting the Superiors—that’s a local problem. But the Advocates…”
His voice dropped.
“They’re supposed to be untouchable. I don’t even know if they can be defeated.”
The seated figure didn’t move.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried calm authority.
“Everything is proceeding exactly as planned.”
Jensu narrowed his eyes slightly.
The man continued.
“I want the Empire to feel the rise of human power through the Superiors.”
He paused
“And just as I expected… they sent an Advocate.”
The assassin shifted uneasily.
“How do we proceed?” The assassin asked
He hesitated.
“And what about the preparations on Skybase? The Seraphim will be asking soon.”
The seated figure stiffened slightly.
“You’re speaking out of turn—”
Then everything went silent.
No buzzing neon.
No dripping pipes.
No distant traffic.
Nothing.
The assassin blinked.
He slowly looked around the room.
“What…?”
The seated man smirked faintly.
“It’s unnaturally quiet… isn’t it?”
Realization hit the assassin instantly.
His eyes widened.
“Damn it…”
He spun toward the window.
“He must’ve planted a tracker on me!”
Outside, Jensu’s expression didn’t change.
He had heard enough.
The wind barrier around the cabin still swallowed every sound. No dripping pipes. No buzzing neon. No distant traffic.
Just silence.
Inside the room, the second figure slowly rose from his chair.
Even from the window Jensu could feel it—
The man’s awareness shifting.
Scanning.
Hunting.
Jensu stepped back from the wall.
"Too perceptive" He thought to himself
Without another thought he bent his knees and launched upward.
The air burst beneath his feet as wind carried him into the sky.
In a single motion Jensu cleared the alley and landed silently on the rooftop two buildings away.
Below, inside the cabin—
The mysterious figure’s head snapped toward the wall where Jensu had been standing.
His hand lifted slightly.
The cabin wall rippled.
Then liquefied.
Wood and brick melted like water before peeling apart, revealing the empty alley outside.
Nothing.
The sounds of the street suddenly returned.
Crickets chirped.
Water dripped from broken pipes.
Neon lights buzzed overhead.
The assassin stared at the empty alley, panic creeping across his face.
“Where is he?!”
The other man’s eyes narrowed.
He slowly turned back toward the assassin.
His gaze was sharp enough to cut.
“Slip up like that again,” he said coldly, “and I’ll kill you.”
The assassin swallowed hard.
Far above them, perched on the edge of a distant rooftop, Jensu watched the cabin quietly.
The night wind tugged gently at his trench coat.
“Interesting…”
His eyes narrowed toward the dimly lit cabin below.
“So there are bigger players involved after all.”
With that thought, Jensu stepped back into the darkness of the rooftops.
Beyond the towering security wall lay Dark City.
Floodlights mounted along the barrier washed the streets below in harsh white beams. Armed patrol units marched through the avenues in tight formations, rifles held ready as they enforced curfews across the district.
The streets here were rougher than those of Light City.
Neon signs flickered above cracked pavement. Rusted fire escapes clung to the sides of aging buildings, and steam hissed from broken street vents that leaked into the night air.
Music drifted faintly from somewhere deeper in the district.
But the streets themselves were quiet.
Too quiet.
Then the silence shattered.
The roar of a motorcycle ripped through the avenue.
A black bike burst around the corner at high speed, its engine roaring as it tore through the empty street. The rider leaned low over the machine, weaving effortlessly between abandoned vehicles and scattered debris.
Neon lights flashed across the rider’s dark silhouette as the bike accelerated down the road.
Static crackled through an earpiece.
“Lloyd, turn left at the next light,” a voice said calmly. “Then take the alley.”
The rider didn’t answer.
Instead, the motorcycle surged forward with a burst of speed as it shot around the next corner.
Ahead of him—
A young woman sprinted down the street, panic written across her face.
She glanced back.
And saw the motorcycle closing in.
The woman darted into the alley just seconds ahead of him.
The narrow passage was cluttered with dented trash bins and rusted pipes. A flickering neon sign buzzed overhead, washing the wet pavement in uneven red light.
Lloyd slammed the brakes.
The motorcycle skidded sideways across the alley entrance.
Using the sudden stop, he launched himself forward.
Momentum carried him through the air as he drew his sword in one fluid motion.
The blade flashed under the neon glow.
The woman barely had time to turn.
The tip of the sword drove cleanly through her shoulder and pinned her to the pavement with a dull metallic crack.
She let out a sharp scream.
The sound echoed through the alley.
No one came.
This part of the city had learned not to ask questions.
Lloyd landed beside her and planted one boot against the ground, gripping the sword’s hilt as she struggled.
Up close, he could see her clearly now.
She looked completely out of place in a district like this.
She was a young Asian woman with messy black hair pulled loosely into a short ponytail. Thick round glasses sat crooked on her nose, and she wore an oversized mustard-colored sweater layered over a long white shirt that hung past the hem.
Loose dark jeans and worn sneakers completed the look.
She looked more like a college student than someone worth hunting.
“Hey! Hey! Hey!” she cried.
“Be careful! We need her alive, you brute.”
The voice came through Lloyd’s earpiece.
Lloyd scoffed.
“I only pinned her down.”
He nudged the blade slightly.
“She’ll be fine.”
He pulled the sword free.
The woman gasped as the blade slid out of her shoulder.
For a moment, blood ran down her sleeve.
Then the wound began to close.
Skin knit itself together. Muscle sealed. Within seconds the injury vanished as if it had never happened.
Not even a scar remained.
The woman pushed her glasses back up her nose and looked up at him.
“Wait! Wait! Wait!” she blurted quickly.
“I can explain!”
Her words tumbled out all at once.
“I was hungry, okay? I had no money! It’s ridiculously hard to make money around here and I hadn’t eaten in days!”
She gestured frantically down the alley.
“Wait… did stealing that book seriously put me on the bounty list?”
Her voice cracked.
“Please don’t kill me!”
Lloyd stared at her.
“You—”
Before he could finish, she suddenly leaned forward.
“Oh!”
Her eyes widened behind the thick lenses.
“You’re him, aren’t you?”
She gasped dramatically.
“You’re Shadow!” Her voice was filled with fascination
“Oh wow this is incredible, look it’s an honor to meet you but please don’t let your face be the last thing I see before I die!”
She reached up and grabbed the edge of her glasses.
Slowly, she lowered them.
The thick lenses slid down the bridge of her nose.
For the first time her eyes were fully visible.
They were bright.
Sharp.
Focused entirely on Lloyd.
For a split second the frantic panic in her voice disappeared.
Something else replaced it.
Calm.
Studying.
Almost curious.
Lloyd frowned slightly.
Then the voice in his ear crackled again.
“Lloyd.”
There was a sudden pause
“Did you make sure not to look her in the eyes?” The voice in his ear now slightly concerned
His stomach dropped.
“…Damn it.”
By the time Lloyd snapped out of it, her body was already fading away like smoke blowing in the wind.
He cursed under his breath.
“Can you still track her?” Lloyd asked angrily
Static buzzed again.
“Yes… but she’s already too far ahead now.”
The voice sighed.
“You Superiors move ridiculously fast. Honestly I’m amazed those city walls can even hold you.” The voice kept him optimistic
“Come back to HQ. We need to regroup.”
“I think my genius brain just invented a countermeasure for her power.” The voice brightened
Lloyd slid his sword back into its sheath.
“I’ll come by later tonight.”
He walked back toward his motorcycle.
“I’ve got another stop to make.” He said while throwing his leg over the bike saddle.
A chuckle crackled through the earpiece.
“Ah, I get it. Just don’t get caught by the military.”
A neon sign buzzed softly above the narrow street.
Silver Eclipse.
The letters flickered between violet and pale blue, washing the pavement below in shifting light.
Inside, the lounge glowed with dim amber lighting. A slow jazz melody drifted through the room from a piano in the corner. Smoke from sweet cigars curled lazily through the air, blending with the scent of alcohol and old wood.
The crowd was mixed.
Some patrons leaned quietly over drinks, speaking in low voices. Others watched the room from the shadows, their posture tense and cautious. In a place like this, most people preferred not to involve themselves in other people’s problems.
The door swung open.
Lloyd stepped inside.
The room didn’t fall silent, but the atmosphere shifted slightly. A few heads turned before quickly looking away again.
People noticed.
But nobody stared.
Lloyd walked to the bar and took the closest seat.
Behind the counter, a woman with bright blue hair wiped down a glass. When she saw him sit, she gave a small smile.
Without asking, she slid a glass across the counter.
It stopped perfectly in front of him.
Whiskey. On the rocks.
Lloyd caught the glass and took a slow sip.
“Hey Lloyd,” she said. “Give me a minute.”
Before Lloyd could take another drink, someone stepped up behind him.
“You’ve got some nerve showing up here,” the man said loudly.
His voice carried across the room.
“Every gang in this district wants your head and you’re just sitting here drinking like you—”
Click.
Lloyd’s gun was suddenly aimed at his face.
Except the man wasn’t moving anymore.
Ice had crawled up his legs and across his torso, locking him in place like a statue.
Lita slammed her hand down on the bar.
“Lloyd.”
Her voice cut straight through the music.
“What have I told you about killing people in my bar?”
She stepped around the counter and walked toward the frozen man. Frost cracked softly across the ice as she placed a hand against it.
The ice melted instantly.
Water splashed across the floor as the man stumbled forward.
Lita pointed toward the door.
“Take your friend and leave.”
Her tone was calm again, but the message was clear.
“You and your crew aren’t welcome here anymore.”
The group quickly dragged the man out of the lounge.
One of them kicked over a chair before disappearing outside.
"Damn Lloyd, I didn't think Lita would be quicker on the draw than you." A gentle voice came from a booth behind him
Lloyd leaned back taking another sip of his drink.
“Kira,” he said casually. “Didn’t see you over there.”
In a booth along the wall sat a woman swirling a straw through a bright pink drink.
She leaned back comfortably against the red leather seat.
Kira was a Black woman with vibrant green hair shaped into a small rounded fro, held together by a thin headband tied at the base. Her green eyes caught the glow of the neon lights as she watched the room with quiet amusement.
Her arms were toned and relaxed against the table as she lifted her drink.
“No songs tonight?” Lloyd asked.
“Nah,” she replied lazily. "This voice needs rest sometimes too.”
She took a slow sip from the straw and watched the door where the gang had just left.
Lita returned to the bar and wiped down a spill.
“Well I’m getting tired of dragging bodies off my floor,” she muttered.
“I keep telling you to hire bouncers,” Kira said with a smug tone.
Lita rolled her eyes.
Kira simply leaned back again and continued sipping her drink.
Lita walked back over to Lloyd and slid into his lap.
“You smell like sweat,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. "Hard night?”
“Yeah,” Lloyd said quietly.
“Target got away.”
He took another sip of whiskey.
“It’ll be fine.”
Static crackled in his ear.
Aiden’s voice came through.
“Lloyd, we’ve got a problem.”
Lloyd stopped moving.
“You should come back to HQ.”
A brief pause followed.
“I’m picking up a signal. An Advocate is in the city.”
Lloyd slowly looked up.
Lita met his eyes immediately.
She didn’t need an explanation.
She already understood.
Miles away, the roar of Lloyd’s motorcycle echoed through an empty industrial block before fading into silence.
A heavy vault door slowly rolled open with a metallic groan.
Behind it sat a strange contrast of chaos and precision.
The room looked like an improvised laboratory built inside an abandoned warehouse. Tables were cluttered with half-assembled gadgets, wires, screens, and scattered tools. Several monitors flickered across the room displaying maps, signals, and scrolling data.
In the center of it all stood Aiden.
His posture was terrible, hunched over a workstation like he had forgotten chairs existed. His pale skin and tired eyes suggested he hadn’t slept much lately. Messy black hair hung around his face, and his old hoodie looked like it had survived several years too many.
He barely looked up when Lloyd entered.
“I checked the signal three times,” Aiden muttered while tapping rapidly at a keyboard. “No mistakes. This energy signature is definitely an Advocate.”
Lloyd removed his gloves slowly.
Aiden continued speaking while pacing around the workstation.
“But the trail went cold the moment they entered Dark City. Completely vanished. Which means one thing.”
He spun around excitedly.
“We need to find Naomi before things escalate.”
Lloyd wasn’t listening anymore.
He had only caught one word.
“Advocate.”
Aiden scratched his head absentmindedly.
“Yeah. And history has shown that it only takes one to completely turn the tide of a battlefield.”
He tapped one of the screens and zoomed in on a map of the city.
“A voice that commands dominion,” he murmured. “Pretty terrifying, honestly.”
Lloyd clenched his fist slightly.
“I destroyed that lab,” he said quietly.
“We knew the Superiors would grow beyond control eventually. But sending an Advocate…”
He shook his head.
“That means the Empire is ready to clean house again.”
Aiden barely heard him.
He was already back at his desk, adjusting something small and metallic.
“History repeating itself is fascinating,” he muttered. “But also annoying.”
He twisted a dial.
“Wait… if I rotate this ninety degrees…”
Another adjustment.
“And align this frequency to twelve o’clock…”
His eyes suddenly lit up.
“Ha!”
He spun around and held something up proudly.
“Here. Try these.”
Lloyd stared at the object.
They were goggles.
Very strange goggles.
“What the hell are these?” Lloyd asked, turning them in his hands.
“They look ridiculous.”
“A countermeasure,” Aiden said proudly.
“You wear those and Naomi can’t probe your mind.”
He leaned closer.
“And if she already did, this blocks her out completely.”
Lloyd frowned.
“I’m not wearing these.”
Aiden grinned like a child showing off a new toy.
“Unfortunately, if you want to succeed next time, you are.”
They continued arguing while Aiden enthusiastically explained his invention.
Outside the warehouse, high above the street—
Jensu sat quietly on the edge of a rooftop.
His legs were crossed as the night wind tugged gently at his coat.
In his hand, a small tracker device relayed every word spoken inside the lab.
He listened silently.
“Interesting…” Jensu murmured.
“So they think I’m here as their reaper.”
He closed the device and slipped it back into his pocket.
“I can use that.”
The city lights stretched endlessly beneath him as he stood.
“But first…” He glanced toward the distant skyline. "Gotta get some sleep.”
With that, Jensu stepped back into the darkness of the rooftops.
