"The boy runs through the streets of the city."
"His feet carry him toward the distant node that blazes in his mind's eye. One that stretches off far into the distance."
"He knows exactly where he needs to go."
"He is focused. He is determined."
"He sees movement."
"A mass of Thralls spill out from a side street, their pale bodies moving with that horrible insectile fluidity."
"He doesn't slow. He cuts through them like a blade through water, his spear finding their throats and hearts."
"He emerges on the other side, covered in black blood and continues his pursuit of nothing."
"He turns and finds himself in a narrow alley. The walls press close on either side, and the fading lamplight barely penetrates the darkness. The boy moves forward carefully, his senses sharp and alert."
"Something drops from above."
"He does not take notice of it until the last moment."
