Aerchon and Sylra moved with quick steps through the streets after finishing the business in the alley. They keep their steps to the shadows as much as possible.
They make their steps as quick and deliberate as possible but secrecy was a challenge in this city. Neon lights flickered in every direction — vibrant blues, reds, and purples bleeding into each other and casting shifting reflections on the metallic wet streets.
The Elves had never experienced this kind of overstimulation before. The sheer amount of artificial light made Sylra's head throb and Aerchon could feel an uncomfortable strain behind his eyes.
Their world had never been like this. This was a place where night never truly came, where darkness was pushed away by endless glowing signs and floating holograms.
