It was a gloomy, starless night in Zaun. The clouds dark and heavy, threatening to flood the city with their tears. The air lingering with the impressionable scent of a coming downpour. Silco lit a cigar, taking a glance to the sky. Not wanting to be outside if the sky did end up falling, his pace quickened slightly. Then, all of a sudden, the sounds of sniffling and soft weeping could be heard. The middle-aged man’s head turned, brows furrowing at the small child.