A man stands up in a dark alleyway, wearing a black hoody, and a Blindfold on. He conceils something in the hoody, looking like some fancy sword handle, without the blade. He looks around and mutters something to himself. The street is noisy, stars struggle to exist through the dense lights of the vast city, and a mist from a river starts coming in, as it always does there. The man walks over to the side of the road, as though expecting something, or someone.....
Black Tears