So foreign. New York City. Population: nearly seven million. Area: almost three hundred square miles. Population density: over twenty-three thousand per square mile. The Skyguard considered this as he took another wrong turn, into another blind, vacant lot sandwiched between office blocks. The edges of his vision clouded with mist again and he tilted the front of his helmet up, wiping the condensation off the inside of the mask. His suit's systems had gone down when the Science Pirate had ploughed them both into the ground, but it was too risky to remove the helmet. New York City was a busy place, even late at night, and he had a secret identity to maintain. And with no rocket boots to jet into the sky, he was stuck with travelling on foot. He couldn't ditch the suit completely and come back for it later either, it was too valuable to stash in a trash can for later collection. God knew what the damage was.
