Amid the starry darkness, the yellow crescent grinned, sharpening its characteristic grim outline. Underneath it, the asphalt was glossy black, almost like a wet photograph, and only the white lines gleamed under the fluorescent headlamps. That night, the street was seen in a nostalgic monochrome. The chattering, the swirling people, the rolling vehicles; all kinds of noise filled the city for each scene that the cold didn't matter.
Far away from the city, Marvel's car stopped in front of the Monteith manor, followed by several cars right behind where about two dozen of his men were. Immediately, the guardsmen of the house were provoked by the sudden visit, rushing to surround the black four-wheelers.
