PROLOGUE

With a howl, the wind gusted and squeezed between the city skyscrapers. Papers and other litter flicked around, spinning and dancing on the gusts. Lightning flicked so often and so fiercely that the night sky was fully lit as if it were daytime. Loud booms of thunder rung out with force enough to rattle windows and set off car alarms. High above, Sinewave seemed to peer down on his city from a rooftop, his hooded cloak flapping and flowing behind him.

Back down on the street, outside of Sinewave's watchful gaze, a man paced the street, muttering to himself. The man seemed unaffected by the storm. Staring intently at a device he held in his hand, the man turned, charged ahead about 15 paces and came to an abrupt stop. He paused for a second to consult the device again before charging off in a different direction.

He repeated this process a dozen more times before he threw the device to the ground. "It's no use," he shouted to himself. "This storm is throwing off the readings. He's going to appear tonight but I'll never find him in a city this big. Not in time, at least. I have failed my master."

The man leaned down and picked up his instrument. He looked in all directions cautiously before he pressed his hand to his chest and vanished.

The howling wind grew more and more intense. Dust and other particulate debris started to swirl into a cloud-like shape. A barely audible moan grew in intensity. The street light flickered overhead as the cloud took the form of a human. As the form took shape, the moan also took shape, growing louder and clearer. The form was now fully human, writhing and clawing as it screamed in agony. Collapsing downward, the form disintegrated as it hit the ground, scattered by the wind as if it was composed of a fine powder. The screaming faded away. As the screaming stopped, the storm ended.

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