The Golden City Graveyard was eerily silent tonight. Although there was a full moon in the sky overhead affording us enough light by which to see, it was still very dark. The air was crisp and warm, with a hint of moisture from a rain shower that had slammed Golden City earlier this evening. As a result, the ground was muddy and the concrete pathway winding its way through the graveyard was slightly wet and slippery, though my boots, which were slip-resistant, allowed me to walk on the path without any difficulty.
“Nice graveyard,” Nightbolt commented, snapping me out of my thoughts suddenly. “Much nicer than the one back in Los Congrejos, anyway.”
Snapping out of my thoughts, I looked at Nightbolt. Nightbolt looked almost completely different from how he normally did. He had ditched hi
