The faint hum of the city blended into the backdrop of early morning stillness. It was the kind of calm that only existed in the hours before sunrise, when the world hesitated between yesterday and today. Perched on the rooftop of an old apartment building, Arlen stretched out his senses.
He could feel them before he saw them—the small creatures that roamed the city, their thoughts and movements blending into his own. A sparrow darted through the alleys, its heart fluttering as it searched for crumbs. A street cat crouched near a dumpster, its muscles coiled with anticipation. Even the rats in the sewers carried fragments of the city's story.
For Arlen, this was second nature. The connection had always been there, like an extra sense. What started as a faint awareness of nearby animals had grown into a bond he could control.
The rooftop door creaked open behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"Arlen," a boy's voice called, breathless from the climb. "Got something for you."
"Morning, Cal," Arlen replied without looking. "You're up early."
"Or up late, depending on how you look at it," Cal said with a grin, holding out an envelope. "Client request."
Arlen took the envelope and tore it open, scanning the note inside. His eyes narrowed as he read the details. Another wealthy businessman looking for dirt on a rival. It wasn't glamorous, but it paid the bills.
"Tell him he'll have his answer soon latest in a week's time," Arlen said, folding the paper and slipping it into his pocket. "What's the payout?"
"Ten grand. Half up front."
"Good." Arlen stood, brushing the dust off his pants. "I'll get started."
Cal hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "You sure you don't need backup on this one? I can—"
"I've got it," Arlen said, cutting him off gently. "But thanks."
Cal nodded, though the worry didn't leave his face.
As the boy disappeared back into the stairwell, Arlen closed his eyes and reached out again. The city responded instantly. A pigeon perched on a lamppost fluttered its wings, its vision merging with his own. Through its eyes, he mapped out the streets below, searching for his target.
The target was a man named Victor Hale, a real estate magnate with a lot to hide. Arlen tracked him through the city, using the animals as his eyes and ears. By the time the sun began to rise, he had a clear picture: Victor was meeting someone in a high-end café downtown.
A place Arlen would struggle to access in person—but he wasn't the one walking through the front door.
Instead, he sent a rat scurrying through the building's ventilation system. Through its tiny, beady eyes, he watched as Victor leaned across the table, whispering something to his companion.
"Interesting," Arlen murmured, noting the nervous energy in the man's movements.
Victor handed over a slim black case, his hand shaking slightly. The other man nodded, slipping the case into his bag before leaving without another word.
Arlen's rat followed him out of the café, trailing at a safe distance. Whoever this man was, he was important enough to make Victor Hale nervous.
By the time Arlen attention returned to his attic, the city was awake. Traffic snarled through the streets, and pedestrians moved in waves along the sidewalks. Inside the bookstore below, the owner was unlocking the door, oblivious to the young man above him.
Arlen sank into his chair, his mind buzzing with the morning's discoveries, jotting down his thoughts in a leather-bound journal when a soft knock interrupted him.
"Come in," he called.
The door creaked open, and a familiar face peeked in. Mira, one of the few friends he had from the orphanage. Her fiery red hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, and her expression was a mix of exasperation and amusement.
"Still playing spy?" she asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.
"Something like that," Arlen replied, gesturing for her to sit. "What brings you here?"
"Cal told me you've been taking more dangerous jobs lately."
Arlen sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Danger is relative, Mira. I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?" She raised an eyebrow. "Because the last time I checked, you were just a kid with a knack for taming animals. Now you're acting like some underworld kingpin."
He chuckled. "You make it sound worse than it is."
She didn't laugh. "I'm serious, Arlen. I don't want to see you get hurt. Or worse."
Her concern was genuine, and for a moment, Arlen felt a pang of guilt. But this was the life he had chosen—a life where secrets were currency and danger was just another part of the job.
"I'll be fine," he said softly. "Promise."
Mira didn't look convinced, but she let it go. Instead, she handed him a small package wrapped in brown paper.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Breakfast. Thought you could use it."
He smiled, taking the package. "Thanks."
She lingered for a moment, drawing a finger across his cheek softly before heading for the door. "Just… be careful, okay?"
"I will," he said.
As the door closed behind her, Arlen unwrapped the package to find a sandwich and a thermos of coffee. He ate in silence, his thoughts drifting back to Victor Hale and the strange case he had handed off.
Late in the afternoon, as Arlen prepared to dive deeper into the case, a faint rumble shook the building. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but enough to set the animals in his room on edge.
The black cat arched its back, hissing at nothing. The sparrow flapped its wings wildly, and even the mouse scurried into a corner, trembling.
Arlen frowned, standing by the window. The city skyline looked the same as ever, but there was a strange energy in the air—a pulse that thrummed just beneath the surface.
Reaching out with his senses, he felt it. The animals were more restless than usual, their movements frantic and erratic. Even the pigeons that roosted in the clock tower were squawking in alarm.
"What the hell is going on?" he muttered.
The black cat leapt onto the windowsill, its eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. It let out a low growl, and Arlen felt a chill run down his spine.
For the first time in years, he felt truly unsettled.
Something was happening, and he needed to know what it was.