The city of Valenfort was waking fully now. The streets were no longer quiet paths of cobblestone and sunlight; they had become a maze of movement, noise, and distraction. Merchants shouted their wares, children darted between legs and carts, and the occasional clatter of hooves on stone signaled the presence of armored guards.
Aiden walked steadily along the main street, small hands tucked into the sleeves of his tunic, his eyes scanning every detail. Each step was measured, deliberate. The human body was fragile, prone to misstep, but he moved with care, testing the limits of his flesh while the mind within cataloged everything.
[Ah. Walking. So much effort. Why can't he just… float? Or teleport? No, fine. Step-by-step, I suppose.]
Step-by-step. Brilliant. This is the height of lazy entertainment, truly.
He passed a group of merchants arguing over a stall. Their voices were high-pitched, shrill with frustration. A woman brandished a broken basket, demanding compensation, while her partner scowled, clearly irritated. Guards approached, but slowly, distracted by the traffic of the streets.
Aiden tilted his head, noting patterns. The merchants' gestures, their hesitation, the way the crowd reacted. Everything could be used.
[Humans, so predictable. So… incredibly tedious. And yet… fascinating in a painfully mundane way.]
Fascinating, yes. Mundane, yes. Effort? Absolutely unavoidable if he insists on noticing it. Ugh.
He moved on, slipping past the crowded square and into a quieter alley. Shadows clung to the walls, creating pockets where someone could hide—or be ambushed. He pressed a finger to the rough stone, feeling its cool surface, noting cracks and imperfections. Even in the ordinary, he found utility.
A scuffling sound drew his attention. Two children, slightly older than himself, were fighting over a stick. One shoved the other, who tripped and fell, crying out. A merchant shouted at them to behave.
Aiden watched carefully. The children were too small to be dangerous, but their reactions revealed patterns — fear, instinct, and the social hierarchies even young humans imposed. He cataloged each movement, each glance, each minor deception.
[Observation: humans are ridiculous. But useful. I suppose I'll note this. Because apparently, that's my job.]
Ridiculous. Effort. I hate this already.
He rounded a corner and entered another street, narrower, with taller buildings crowding the sunlight out. Here, the nobles' quarters began. The guards were more vigilant, moving with deliberate formality. Aiden's small frame allowed him to blend, unnoticed. He crouched slightly behind a pillar, observing the soldiers as they shifted positions, noting their patrol patterns.
[Patterns: predictable. Boring. Yes, yes, all noted. Laziness preserved.]
Preserved… my patience, maybe not my sanity.
A noise caught his attention — the faint clash of metal. Two guards were sparring in a courtyard, practicing drills. Their movements were precise but repetitive. Aiden's eyes tracked their sword swings, the timing between strikes, the subtle flaws in footwork. Every minor mistake was a potential lesson.
[Observation: they will tire in approximately six minutes of continued drills. At which point, they become predictable and exploitable. Or boring. Probably both.]
Predictable and boring. Perfect combination. My favorite.
He moved further, venturing into a small market alley. Here, the chaos was layered: merchants shouting, buyers haggling, children darting through the crowd, dogs barking. He observed them like a hawk, noting which stalls blocked which pathways, where goods spilled if disturbed, and where guards rarely looked.
[Analysis: all minor data. But useful later. Laziness prevents me from thinking too hard. Good. I like this level of effort.]
Effort. Yes. Already regretting this chapter of my day.
As he walked, a boy slightly older than Aiden stepped into his path. He carried a small dagger, eyes wide with fear and determination.
"You!" the boy shouted. "You're in my way!"
Aiden didn't move at first. He tilted his head, observing. The boy was tense, his stance awkward. His grip on the dagger betrayed hesitation.
[Threat: minor. Fear detected. Outcome predictable. Effort required: minimal. Good.]
Predictable humans. Truly, a joy.
The boy lunged clumsily, and Aiden stepped aside, moving with the precision only decades of experience could provide. The attacker stumbled, arms flailing, and fell into a pile of overturned crates. A few scattered coins rolled across the cobblestones.
Aiden did not react, silent and calm. The boy scrambled to his feet and ran off, embarrassed.
[Young master handled threat efficiently. Minimal energy expended. Laziness maintained. Victory.]
Victory. Sure, let's call tripping over crates victory. I'll file it under 'fun.'
By late morning, Aiden had traversed almost half the city. Every alleyway, courtyard, and street corner had been cataloged. Guards, merchants, and citizens alike had passed through his observation. The city's patterns, flaws, and vulnerabilities were slowly becoming clear.
[Assessment: humans predictable. Young master efficient. Laziness mostly intact. Satisfactory.]
Satisfactory. For now. But I am exhausted from… looking. At people. For no reason. Effort. Ugh.
He paused on a balcony overlooking a quiet square. Below, life continued oblivious to him. Merchants arranged their stalls. Guards shifted positions. Children chased each other, unaware of danger.
And Aiden, small and fragile in body, had already begun to understand how easily it could all be manipulated, bent, or broken.
[End-of-chapter observation: humans, predictable chaos. Young master competent. Laziness partially maintained. Bravo.]
Partial maintenance is acceptable. For now.
He leaned against the balcony railing, eyes sweeping the city. Today had been a small victory—not of violence, but of knowledge. The world was vast, and he was small. But he had time. He had observation. And soon, he would have power.
The city did not know him yet.
And it would not be ready when it did.