Midnight quickly fell over Manhattan. Its crowded streets, filled to the brim with people, walking home, striding over to the restaurants, meeting up with old friends: it seemed there were so many people that it was better to think them as a whole, rather than each individual one by one. What is one man amongst a million others? There was, indeed, one man amongst a crowd on Houston Street. Most of the crowd was walking back to Soho to go home. But this man was different. He wasn't going particularly anywhere. He wandered the streets, not a tramp, but more a solitary, lone figure, going nowhere, coming from nowhere. His name was Ethan Richardson.