At the top of one of the tallest buildings in the busy city of Obsidior, a lone figure remained crouched against the cold morning wind.
Snow drifted lazily through the air.
The sunlight had already risen above the city, casting pale light over rooftops, streets, and chimneys that released thin streams of steam into the sky.
Far below, people continued their daily lives.
Merchants opened their stores.
Workers pushed carts through the streets.
Horse carriages/ steam carriages rolled through the snow-covered roads.
Nobody could ever notice the boy watching from above.
Ezra rested against the edge of the building; his eye pressed against the scope of the Barrett M107.
Through the scope, the distant Sterling Mansion appeared clear before him.
Every entrance.
Every guard post.
Every movement.
Nothing escaped his gaze.
A stream of white breath escaped his mouth.
The cold bit against his face despite the layers of clothing he wore.
