The night was cold, colder than it had any right to be. Other than the buzzing of the street lamps, and the loud thunder from an incoming storm, the streets were relatively quiet. The moon hung in the sky, its sharp crescent shape felt too perfect, as if it had been drawn on the sky. Its pale light washed over the peaceful streets, illuminating a grand clock tower.

  The tower stood proudly amongst the other buildings, its light stone had been covered in a large network of vines, just as the other buildings surrounding it. The vines had a dark grey color to them, they bore stunning flowers that seemed to be made of solid gold. The tower was made of a mixture of dark brown wood and light tan stone. The large brass hands of the clock came together at the top, which was quickly followed by three loud rings of a bell.

  “Ding…”

  “Ding…”

  “Ding…”

  Near the top, there was the figure of a man. None of his features could be seen, as his face was obscured by a black cotton mask, his eyes were covered by round copper goggles. He wore a large dark coat, it was tattered, and there were rips that had been lazily sown up. There was a peculiar steel device strapped to his forearm, it had a small dial on its center, and small bronze pipes along its length. The whole device had runic carvings covering nearly every inch of it, including a small arrow shaped blade. Currently the man had his eyes fixated on the large face of the clock tower.

  ‘It’s midnight and the old bastard is still in his office! I thought old people preferred to go to bed when the sun went down.’

  Turning his gaze away from the clock, he focused on a building not too far from the tower. Inside there was an older gentleman, he had dark grey hair, and a wrinkled face. He was currently rummaging through the drawers of a desk, it seemed like he was preparing to depart for the night.

  ‘Finnaly! Took you long enough, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stay in this cold.’

  Watching the light of the old scholars office go out, Soren made his move. Grabbing onto the iron railing, he threw his legs over the edge of the building, quickly entering a free fall. The fall was short lived, as the runic pattern on the device shined with an ethereal white light. The small blade suddenly shot upwards, sinking into the pale stone of the tower. A sleek cable was connected to the blade, the same glowing pattern was engraved on it. The cable was pulled taut, now he was being slowly lowered to the street below.

  The slow descent allowed him to take in the sight more clearly now. The buildings were illuminated by a blanket of moonlight. There was a complex web of black powerlines running from building to building. The vines and flowers were present on every building, the moonlight reflected off their metallic surface, making them shine like golden stars.

  ‘It never gets old, no matter how many times I see it. I don’t know how the Hathaways managed to get these flowers to bloom here. It might be one of the only good things they had done.’

  Sadly, there was no more time for Soren to enjoy the view, as his feet finally touched the damp stone. Somewhere above him, the hook had freed itself from the tower walls. Now, it along with the cable began to retract, finding their home in the small device on his arm. Once they found their place, the light of the runes dimmed into nothing. Soren was left standing at the base of the tower, the yellow light of the street lamps illuminating his figure.

  His eyes carefully scanned the empty streets, falling on a pair of headlights approaching. Quickly dashing into a dark alley, he let the shadows obscure his figure. Pressing his back against the wall, he peered around the corner back to the street. Passing by was a sleek automobile, not the rough industrial ones he was used to seeing around his home, this one was far nicer. It seemed to be made of higher quality metals and there were no scratches or bumps to be seen.

  The vehicle came to a stop outside the same building Soren had been observing. Soon, a man stepped out of the fancy automobile. He was very large and built like a bear, wearing a dark suit with a matching bowler hat. Leaning against the vehicle, he pulled out a small package of what seemed to be cigarettes, putting one in his mouth he quickly lit it, taking a deep breath he blew a large cloud of smoke. He was carefully watching the building, as if he was waiting for someone.

  ‘He’s probably the old man's body guard, I better keep hidden, don’t want to end up drawing his attention.’

  Looking up, Soren fired the hook into the wall of one of the buildings next to the alley. In an instant he was pulled upwards, landing smoothly atop the tiled roof of the building. Keeping his body low, he stuck to the shadows, using them as cover while he jumped from roof to roof, finding a closer vantage point. Landing with a roll, he moved closer to the roof’s edge, he still kept a bit of distance so to not be seen, but close enough to hear the voice of a giant.

  “What’s taking the crackpot so long?”

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  He took another long drag off his cigarette, he was tapping his foot repeatedly against the stone road. Letting out another cloud of smoke, he continued talking to himself. His voice was deep, and it was filled with annoyance.

  “I swear I don’t get paid enough for this. Dealing with his rambling is one thing, but making me drive around until he’s finished is idiotic!”

  A few minutes passed by before the door of the building slowly swung open. Stepping out was an old man, he had patches of dark grey hair on the top of his head. His face was wrinkled, but he held a very kind and warm smile.

  “Ah! Sorry to keep you waiting, my boy. I lose track of time so easily these days.”

  His voice was surprisingly energetic for someone of his age, though it did not seem to warm the icy heart of his fearsome protector.

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’ve heard it a hundred times already. Just get in the car.”

  The giant of a man flicked his cigarette to the ground, squishing it with his boot. Then moving towards the back side of the car, he opened one of the doors for the man.

  “Thank you kindly, Burtrum.”

  It took the old man a few moments but eventually he got into the back seat of the automobile. As Burtrum began to enter the vehicle himself, he suddenly paused, then for some reason he began to sniff the air. After a moment the voice of the old man called out from the car.

  “Is everything alright, my boy?”

  The giant's eyes darted around the darkness, searching for something. After a moment, he fully entered the vehicle.

  “Just my imagination, boss.”

  With that the car slowly drove off, leaving the streets silent. Letting out a relieved sigh, Soren leaped onto a closer building.

  ‘That was too close! For a second there I thought he caught me.’

  Relaxing a bit, Soren leaped off the building, using the grappling device to slow his fall. Making sure to keep to the shadows, he went straight for the front door as soon as his feet met the ground.

  Grabbing onto the handle he expected to have to pick the lock, but instead the door swung open easily.

  ‘You’re kidding! He forgot to lock it… How has he not been robbed yet?”

  Not that it mattered anyways, all it meant was now he had less to worry about. Quickly entering the building, he closed the door behind him. His eyes darted around the building's interior. It was a well furnished office, it seemed like he received frequent visitors. Casting his gaze up a set of stairs, he could see a door was slightly ajar. Moving closer he ascended the staircase, each step was carefully crafted to make as little noise as possible.

  It only took a moment before he reached the door. Keeping close to the wall, he peaked inside. His eyes began to scan the room, once he was sure that no one else had been residing here he pushed the door fully open.

  ‘Glad to see I'm the only surprise visitor tonight… The last thing I need is for someone to see me and call the peace keepers.’

  Stepping inside the room he was greeted by a neatly organized workspace. There was a small couch sitting in front of a fireplace. A large desk sat towards the back of the room, sitting directly in front of the window Soren had used to spy on the old man. The walls were covered in a dark grey wallpaper, with patterns of golden flowers along the base boards. Adorning the walls were various photos of the old scholar. In some he was shaking the hands of other scholars, in others he was accepting various awards.

  ‘Seems like someone isn’t afraid of stroking their ego.’

  Walking closer to the desk, there was a bunch of papers stacked neatly on top of one another. Standing at the head of the desk, he picked up the stack and carefully read through the papers. It seemed like this was a research paper, it went on about his experimentation with the “Motion” sequence. It detailed a variety of unorthodox uses of it, most of which were focused on easing the burdens of everyday life. Soren couldn’t help but scoff at what he was reading.

  ‘Please, a bastard like you is concerned with people's burdens! Don’t make me laugh, this all is just some act… Is it?’

  The thought had crossed his mind, the way Mr. Hathaway acted was not how he expected. He seemed so kind, gentle even. Perhaps his tip was wrong, maybe they had mistaken him for a different Hathaway. Though, Soren knew all too well how a kind smile often hides sinister intentions. People often hide themselves behind a mask of lies, showing you only what they want you to see.

  Looking down at one of the drawers of the desk, Soren steeled himself. He had to be sure, even if he was wrong he needed to see if the old man had anything to do with what happened with his father. Pulling on the handle he quickly realized that the drawer was locked tightly. Cursing under his breath, Soren looked around, his eyes eventually fell on a small dull blade resting on a stack of letters.

  Grabbing a metal letter opener, he jammed it into the small gap between the desk and drawer. Pushing down hard, the sound of wood snapping greeted his ears. The drawer flew open, inside was an assortment of objects. There was a small glass vile, no bigger than a shot glass. Inside was a glowing white liquid, it shined with the same light of his device. Next to it was a leather bound journal. Picking it up, Soren began to flip through its pages.

  As he flipped through, he began to slow down, rereading some parts, making sure he read them correctly. His previous doubt had all but vanished, now replaced with pure disgust and contempt.

  ‘Sick bastard! How can you wear such a kind face, knowing what you’ve done?’

  Just as he thought, Julian Hathaway wore a mask, but what that mask kept hidden was far worse than what Soren had expected. The kind visage of the old man hid a terrible monster, one he needed to deal with.