First, he felt his nose twitch. Slightly. A fog of suspicion crept through his face, tickling his senses all over. 'Cid bent over double, trying to calm down as the feeling of forced awareness of something he didn't even see struck him. Turning around, terribly slow, his eyes wandered over to the garden behind him, watching the grasses shift quietly in the wind. Something else. Nothing else? His hand found the gun again, cradled it. He got up from his seat, still silent, and took a few steps toward the edge of the roof, just six feet or so above the ground, roughly a little above his own height. "Anything else?" he said, quietly, to no one he could see. The gun was loosely dangling from his pale fingers as he kneeled down to peer into the long expanse of growing vegetables and wild grasses. Nothing yet.

And there he was, a man almost seemed to materialize among the edge of the plants, not moving but coming from somewhere within where he'd hidden himself. He was of medium height, very stocky and possessed of an eerie coldness one usually finds in military men or clergymen, possessed of higher purpose. The eyes of a man-killer, inhuman but almost absurdly so human. 'Cid's eyes widened as he and the intruder locked eyes, and then for a moment there was no communication or movement between the two as the man took another step forward, his angry eyes flashing. "Drui-" he began to say, reaching for something in a belt-holster. Cid leapt off the building like a maddened wolf, hands reaching out and legs back, and came to ground just before the man, landing on all fours and scrambling at the man with a feral shout. Interrupted so, the man almost dropped his handgun before bringing it back up... 

There was a single shot, which missed and went wild as then Cid was on top of him, swinging his own pistol into the man's face. He swore and let out a strangled cry as it smashed into the side of his temple, stopping his defense immediately as he briefly lost sense of all but a brief overwhelming surge of pain. As they struggled, practically snarling at each other, audible to whoever was approaching, the man grabbed Cid's shoulders briefly before being beat back down with his arms eagle-wide. "You traitor! That He favored you so, ever, disgusts me now! You knew our mission was of justice, bastard!" He spit out the last words, a red-blackened gob smacking against Cid's collar. Another blow, another gasp of pain. More pain. A squeeze. "We all had our own missions to carry out, not all so easy to explain, you bitch." He said, humoring the wounded man. His voice seemed to blacken. The area around his eyes seemed darker, his pale skin and dark hair increasing in contrast as he looked down into the man's face and obscured the sun. Only trees around. "Enough of this, fucking die already." The man started to twist again, Cid reached with his right hand behind him to pull out his utility knife, raised it above his head and slammed it down into the man's eye. He screamed, horribly, and kept at it for about a second more before Cid got off of him and finished him off with a bullet in his chest. The man continued to stare in his direction, his gaze unfocused... There was no noise after the finality of the single shot he fired.

Grunting, as his visage returned to normal, emotionless and tired, Cid turned the man onto his side and then over. Visible on the back of his army jacket was a patch that he himself had carried before, a black spot inscribed in clean white letters. [b] "We are special. We are perfect. We were born in the sight of God. Our suffering bodies will suffer no more. We are children of God"[/b] Disgusted at the sight, he bent over and pulled his knife out of the man's eye, only taking a moment to examine the man's rough features before turning back over face-down in the muck. He looked back at the words, remembering every time those words had been thrown at him by one of the Children's many grunts. [i]Like they even fucking understood[/i], he mused bitterly. He held the knife with both hands, and slashed across the writing, soiling them with blood.

He stood over the body now, looking down at it. With a hand whose long fingers were still dipped in mild blood, he withdrew a thin cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it, feeling a shiver pass him again as he felt some feeling overtake him. [i]What angel was coming down the path, visiting the green earth, and took away the flowers?[/i]