High above the streets of Arashiyama, a figure crouched atop invisible glass discs, looking like a sentinel against the twilight sky.
Dressed in the midnight garb of a ninja, his form shimmered with countless tiny mirrors of different shapes clinging to his clothes. On his back perched a textbook-sized oval mirror with arcane runes engraved along its frame.
The ninja's outstretched hands beckoned to the alley below, drawing streams of glitering dust upward like a reverse waterfall.
As the last motes settled into his palms, a voice cut through the thin air.
"Good thing we exploited your mirror avatars. They have indeed proved useful in locating our target. I knew the moment that you lost your connection with them, that they have found the right person."
The sky rippled like disturbed water, and from thing air stepped a man, one foot after the other. He was dressed as if for a funeral – provided the deceased had exquisite taste.
