It was dark.
Very dark.
And cold.
Wind rattled trees and shook up flurries of leaves.
But it didn't stop a dark, purple striped butterfly from flying into it.

"Yes, Hawkmoth."

A sheen of dark colored sparks colored a figure in the chilling, sharp air of that night.
Then, the sky exploded with thick, enveloping color.

And the figure was gone.