Ezra Matten parked his police hover car on the side of the deserted street. The soft hum of the engine died out, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.
Stepping out, he adjusted his peacekeeper uniform, the white fabric hugging his athletic frame. His blue eyes glowed faintly under the dim light of the streetlamps, as if his golden eyes were trying to shine through.
He inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of moisture in the air. He looked up to see the clouds covering the night sky. There would be rain before morning.
He turned to look at the building in front of him, an ordinary but old townhouse, its windows dark and silent. He looked around, confirming that the street was really empty. All the human neighbors were in bed, asleep.
