Blending seamlessly into the crowd of townsfolk as he descended from the warehouse rooftop, Marcus moved like just another shadow among many. His steps were casual, unhurried, his posture betraying nothing of the intent behind his movements. But instead of making for the front entrance of the apartment, his path veered naturally, casually, toward the back alley.
The alley was narrow, littered with a few crates and barrels stacked lazily against the walls. Marcus's eyes darted about as he whistled a faint tune under his breath, hands shoved in his pockets, as though he had all the time in the world.
"Hmm, this place looks perfect," he murmured to himself, stopping to take it all in. "Time to climb."
