Across an unassuming pedestrian crossing, a cloaked figure limped unseen among the busy crowds, parting unknowingly for the heavily breathing figure. It managed to come halfway before it stopped, staggering against a stopped truck's front, hands failing to grasp onto a hold for more than a few precious moments as it slumped to the ground, knees cracking against the asphalt, head following shortly after.
Immediately, as if unveiled from everyone, the other pedestrians became aware and started running towards it. An electric worker was the first to reach it and turned it over carefully on its back, trying not to jostle anything. People stopped as she drew down the hood to reveal a bloody, stern face, fiery eyes turned dull from an unseen agony.
Her own had started to shine with tears upon witnessing the unexpected suffering. She felt like she was looking at one of her own dead parents, for there was something there she couldn't pinpoint, a certain gutwrenching familiarity.
For a heartbeat she held a hand to the left cheek in comfort, when a trembling hand suddenly grasped her own with surprising strength. The dull, agonized eyes regained all clarity and locked onto hers for a full moment. Then they closed, and a moment later the figure slackened as a final breath left its chest.
Had one ears for the otherwordly, a sudden hush would have been heard, as the world held its collective breath. The silence stretched on as one watched in disturbed fascination, in pure unbridled disbelief, as the figure remained still. Disbelief slowly turned to confusion, then to horror.
The universal scales tipped.