The tall man looked to the alleyway, cloaked in his make-shift coat that was made for him not to stand out to easily, though his height alone would have proposed him as different from most people. He gently glided through, lurking in the shadows as he spotted his prey: a woman, at least in her thirties, hanging on empty path that lead near the alleyway, merely both of them there, only the man unnoticed by the soon-to-be victim. The area was deserted except for them, and the tall man stood there. The woman noticed an unusual cold surrounding her, and a black mist settling upon the ground. She huddled up in her heavy coat, and the small hairs on her neck pricked up as the figure loomed. She slowly turned head and then jerked it to look at the figure. She looked at it with a mixture of fear and confusion, and she focused to look at the tall man: He wore all black, a wide-brimmed hat, a long scarf, and a duster coat sewn together to fit the figure's tall, thin, and crooked frame. But as she stumbled closer, as if in a dream, she saw that the figure wore some sort of a gas-mask, with red lights peering out of the lens, and small works like monocles and magnifying-glasses attached near the eyes of the mask. A hose lead down from the horrific mask, trailing into his coat. He looked at her while she stared at him, and then…
Edward tossed himself onto his bed, trying to fix his jumbled mind as he sorted out what was going on. It was nearly past one in the morning, now. Edward slowly closed his eyes, wondering who even sent the letter, trying to figure as to who sent the letter. Again, the fact that he could barely remember his past disturbed him deeply, as he was sure that it was important. Thinking deep into his mind, Edward fell into the dark, yet comforting abyss of his closed eyes, and fell to sleep.
He slowly opened his eyes, peering into the silvery brightness of the room, the clouds outside looming over the gargantuan building he knew he resided in. He pulled himself up, still in his ruffled shirt, and rubbed his eyes from weariness. He slowly got up from his bedding, not thinking of what he would do as he did, and stood for a time. Silence. There was nothing to be heard, nowhere. He looked at the gear-clock by his bead. 11:47. It was not too early in the day. Edward put on his jacket and shoes, grabbed the key to his apartment, and walked out the door to explore the city.
Edward saw that the city was vast. Huge smoke-stacks towered into the sky, and the bronze and copper building posed as gleaming giants. He saw the people coming and going, elaborate and eccentric outfits walking upon the streets like a masquerade, merely without the masks. Then Edward saw it; the clock-tower loomed over the all the buildings, its massive size making all the other sky-scrapers look like miniatures, toy models. Yet something seemed off. Edward swore he could see a very faint, eerie red light, staring out into the city from the clock-tower, and a cold chill tingled down his spine. Yet as fearful of he was of this identity he knew nothing of, he boldly headed towards the clock tower.
The tall man saw that the other male headed towards him, and then turned around towards his lair: the computers revealed the streets and houses of the innocent. The cameras of the cameras in the city revealed everything to him, and he saw the sepia-colored image of Edward Alset making his way towards the building that would be so crucial in this game…