It was warm for September in NewYork. The normal touch of crispness was absent from the air, even at 3am. The city itself was still awake, but just barely. Most of the bright lights were off, and would remain off untill 5. 'NewYork,' she thought, 'the only city in the world where dawn itself is controled by an electrician.' She smiled to herself. There was beauty here, almost a kind of magic in this time of night.

She shifted slightly, and felt the pressure on the palm of her hand equlize. The world looked odd upsidedown, she decided, so that the city became the sky. But then, it was an odd perch; 200 feet up precariously balanced on one hand, on the head of a stone gargoyle. She reached up with her free hand and grabbed both ankles, pulling them down so that her back arched, and her spine streached.

She pushed the images of the city away, untill all she saw in her mind was what she was doing now. She smiled, feeling a blanket of peace wrap around her, forcing her to relax,even as she balanced. Slowly, the noise around her dulled, untill the only thing she heard was the sound of her own heartbeat.

Not far away, on a high rooftop, four figures sparred. Katanas and Sai's flashed in the starlight, and the steady whirr of a bow staff and nunchuchs was constant.