Things were hectic. The lights of the city flashed, blinding to all but the city's locals. Cars lined the streets bumper to bumper, packed tightly together like a box of pencils. Working men and women stood off of the sidewalk in the hopes to catch a ride home, cursing under their breath when unsuccessful. Taxis honked, people shouted, the whole city bustled. It was a typical New York City evening; complete chaos.
Yet amidst the discord, the light of the setting sun still glimmered, its bright rays reflecting off of the glass windows of skyscrapers. Those stagnant giants towered above all else with a hidden vigilant eye; they were the silent watchmen. Some sported turrets at their peaks, those long and slender shapes like fingers reaching up to the darkening sky, leaving scratch marks that were the stars. Whatever light the fading sun had left drained quickly from the sky, setting the city into darkness above, save the moon, stars, and street light