Scene:

Alter on a red brick roof. The city center illuminated by a yellow glow was far from his current location. A quieter, dimmer part of the city where the well-off reside. He falls into a damp, dark alleyway in front of the door to his first target's house. First room he enters is a small side room, storage room, the only entrance hidden from public view. The room is empty, but there's a fireplace, a rug, and a small brown bed. The home is large, two stories. He leaves the storage room and is in another storage room. He passes through and enters a kitchen, leaves the kitchen and arrives in a grand foyer, the main entrance to his right. Alter walks up the spiral staircase and reaches the master bedroom.

No further descriptions. This house is not important.

Alter's black coat nipped at his ankles as he walked along the red brick roof. The city center, illuminated by a yellow glow, was far from his current location in a quieter, dimmer area where the well-off reside. A place where disturbances are rare and responses slow. The target believed this to be the safest shelter, and it is, for where better to store a corpse than in its home? Arwen has grand plans for country and party and by a twitch of Alter's finger this murder will trigger deliberate cataclysmic change. A strong gust of wind buffeted him as the street lamps extinguished their light, the signal to act.

Alter marched past the rooftop edge and plunged into a narrow alley swelling with the stench of damp sickness. He landed in front of a rusty door. Locked. He gripped the knob, dug his shoulder into the door, and detached the metal slab from its hinges as quietly as he could. A fire crackled in the empty storage room made of stone, moss and mold clinging to the walls.

Clink.

A scaly neck rose up from the small brown bed by the fireplace.

The dragon bared its fangs at the intruder.

Judging by its unique moss covered scales, it was a species that inhabited the southern swamps. It couldn't be more than a few months old. The dragon must've cost the target a fortune on the black market. Alter knelt by the bed.

"What are you doing here?" he murmured, giving a hand for the snake-like dragon to curl around.

It hissed, splattering venomous spittle that sizzled on the floor, then slithered away to guard the door.

Ah.

It was truly attached to its owner. Alter must try some other way to befriend the poor child. His pupils glowed bronze and the dragon's eyes glowed the same. Its grey scales shivered; it made a half choking, half hissing sound, and then, the dragon bowed its head in veneration before Alter. He raised a hand and it pushed its head into his palm.

"Good boy."

Sadness engulfed him as he gazed into the child's dark emerald eyes. The war cost many dragons their lives, but it was only after their Mother passed that many returned to their native habitats in the Wilds. Those too attached to their humans stayed, though they were few in number and gaining in age. He shook his head and stood. He could not delay his mission any longer. Alter left the storage room and the dragon slipped out with him, treading carefully to avoid his boots. He passed through the kitchen and arrived in the grand foyer cast in moonlight. Alter walked up the spiral staircase, his gloved hands brushing against the banister, and stood in front of his target's bedroom.

He glanced at the dragon. "There's no need for you to witness this."

It curled into a coil and leaped into the air, twisting its body to stay afloat. Alter patted its red underbelly and it wrapped around his arm.

He smiled. "Very well."

The target stirred but didn't wake when Alter entered the room and hovered over him. Alter stroked the dragon's head. It leaped and landed on the man's large stomach. That woke him up. He spoke incoherently, still swallowed by sleepy stupor. The target shifted his heavy body and saw Alter.

"No!" He dove for something underneath his pillow, but Alter held the gun up.

"You misplaced it into my hands."

"Alter Carlebach, what is this?" He tried to sound indignant and brave, but the target's eyes flicked everywhere looking for a solution to save his life. "I-I do not know why you've visited me this late at night, surely not for polite banter."

Alter could see drops of perspiration staining the man's white nightwear. He was pretending not to know, praying Alter didn't come here for the reason he suspected.

Pitiful.

The dragon spat poison and narrowly missed the man, disintegrating his pillow. Fear strangled his scream.

Alter scooped the child up to soothe it, "I think it better if you leave. Return to your home."

Its tongue flicked out.

"You know where it is."

Their eyes shined that same beautiful bronze color and the dragon flew out the window.

The man wheezed. "You-You're not human! You're one of them! You, and Arwen, you've fooled us all!" An unhealthy pallor crawled down his face and he scrambled back as Alter advanced.

"Mr. Eldhrimnir. We both know why I am here."

The target gasped for air, "I don't-don't understand."

Alter released the pistol. "You're a resourceful man, Nader, hiding from us for so long, twenty-two years!"

Alter produced his own gun and slid in a single bullet. "A decades-long war allowed you to funnel extraordinary amounts of wealth into your personal accounts. None of it acquired honorably."

Nader tried to defend himself. Alter tore him from the bed and threw him onto the floor.

Alter kept his voice level as he spoke. "We know."

"I'm a dead man then."

"You killed yourself so quickly it seems you don't know the value of your life, Eldhrimnir." The target was confused.

Alter raised his gun. "You still haven't understood why I'm here? I wonder why we thought you were worth keeping."

"Wait, wait. Wait!"

Alter cocked the gun. "Is it a crime to kill a corpse?"

Nader screamed, "I have information on the others! Documents, trophies, everything!"

Alter lowered the weapon and prodded the cowering man with his foot, "Lead the way."

They arrived in Nader's lavish study room. The man couldn't stop rambling in an almost prideful way, boasting about his part in criminal activities, close ties to fugitives, and most importantly, his ability to name dozens upon dozens of co-conspirators. He could act as a witness, a suggestion he was sure would save his life.

Alter nodded in agreement, "It is important to have witnesses. We live in a lawful society."

"Yes, yes! Of course. I've always admired the Carlebachs, not a stain of corruption for generations. Simply astounding! Your father especially-" Nader's hands still shook as he spun the knobs on his black safe but there was a return of confidence to his demeanor as he increasingly became sure his life would be spared.

Alter tapped the safe, "Open it."

"It's open!" Nader swung the door open. A disgusting earthy smell wafted out the metal box.

He grabbed a thick book, "These are all encoded. I am the only one with the key. Shall we begin moving this to a secure location?"

Alter pressed his gun against the man's temple, and Eldhrimnir whispered, as if any noise might launch the bullet, "What is this?"

Alter smirked, "A crime gone wrong."

Bang!

The body slumped over the polished oak table and blood flecked with grey fragments flowed out the wound and stained the woven rug. Alter flipped through the papers. Fraud, embezzlement, extortion. It matched what they already had. He snatched a bundle of cash and a precious necklace and knocked some books off the walls. Then, he was out the house and up on the roof where Arwen waited. They watched as blue lights flashed against buildings and wailing sirens raced nearer.

Arwen turned away. "The night is short and we have much to do."

This event will later be known as the Night of Revelation.

A thief broke into a home and discovered a safe with incriminating documents. The owner of the home confronted him and was killed by the thief, who fled the scene after contacting the ASSR. Although his actions were condemned, this person became known as the Principled Thief. Without him, the people never would have learned of the widespread and rampant corruption that plagued Arseny.