Four hundred feet below, the evening commute crawled through streets that had already begun to glow with headlights. Taxis honked. Trains rumbled. The city thrummed with the sound of millions of people rushing home.

Up here, there was only the wind.

And the silence.

The figure didn't check their phone. Didn't fidget. Didn't look down at the drop that would kill most people just to think about.

They just watched the horizon, where the sun was slowly melting into the sea of buildings.

A distant crack split the air.

Then another.

Closer now.

The rush of displaced wind announced someone's arrival before their boots hit the concrete behind them.