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"I've lived Insanity My Entire Life...With Brief Glimpses of Sanity inbetween..Man has to sleep sometime, Right..?"

A single, sleek jet-black limousine makes its way down grassy, country-side barren road. The day had slipped away for the most part, not more than an hour left of light before the encompassing lands would be blessed by another flawless night of Moon's silent shining embrace. It is quiet inside, the limousine itself seperated into three quarters. One for the driver and a passenger, one behind it which takes up the majority of the vehicles length, for a party of four or five..And the last, private quarters. Maybe four at most, a two person bench-like seat facing an exact copy across from it, doors flanking both sides. Within this private quarter alone, two individuals sit. Cricedoa had invited this rather random, unknown Private from the lower echelons of his daily assigned duties.

The Vehicles speed began to slow, two Gunships passed rather close-by overhead, a single black-armored individual hanging from a door and staring blankly at the car before shifting his attention to the direction he was traveling.. Their traversing had brought them to the coast of this plot of land, hills drawing several hundred feet from salty-waves below. A single blooming tree sits half-tilted off the side of the road; it is here that the car comes to a complete stop. The odd, eerie silence which has held them both the entire trip lingers here, perhaps heavier than it had the entire trip. The General's stare was without interruption, and the only moment of relief offered to the enlistee is when he makes his move to open the door and remove himself from the cars innards. A passing wind clutches his pauldron-latched cape around his garbed body. The cover of the tree is taken conservingly, slow leathery strides bringing him right up to the cliff's edge while the mixed gaze shining exhaustion and yet, energy, peered onto the approaching sun-set.

His voice slices easily into the void of silence, low, smooth and a calmness about it that would make anyone restless who heard it, keeping the Private's heart rate to a point where he can feel it against his finely-chosen dress uniform, that was requested of him, "Come..Friend, I wish to show you something.."

He scoots himself out of the limousine, no sign of the driver showing any sign of joining the two. He approaches from behind rather hesitantly, gaze dancing between his Commander and the sunset which he seemed fixated on..

"It's a beautiful site, Sire."

Cricedoa is brought to a grimace at the exposed ignorance, no sooner then this a third gunship rises from just below the Cliffs edge.. Another black-garbed figure hangs out the side, piercing gaze falling upon the two before roaring-engines whine up and propel it down the same path as the two preceeding it went.

"There's been talk, lately.. A lot of it, from what I hear. And the subjects I hear they're on, are...Disheartening, to say the least." The man resisted the urge to let a shudder creep upon him at hearing his toned voice again, his concentration against such left him largely unaware of the duanting figure removing folded black gloves from his belt, and weilding them across idle-digits.

"Well, Sire.. If Freedom of Speech is a crime now, then most have but to look in the mirror to find the accused. We have a right to speak our minds, Don't we?"

The Situation became blatantly obvious as he turned and passed his guest, left at an at-eased pose. He briskly commanded.. "Your Sidearm and Magazine.." To which, hesitantly again, he drew from shined holster and pouch.. Offering one in each hand, to be taken heavily in return. The worst of words were yet to come, his voice rising to a low-thunder amidst their secluded area as he loaded the magazine and chambered a single round, "Your rights were forfeit when you pledged your life to your people. Yet you were foolish enough to do so without thinking death a plausible reality.. I will not have dissidence rabid in my ranks. And just as I am an instrument for the will of this nation. You will be an instrument to me..Do you wish any last words of wisdom to be heard?"

Cricedoa is met with utter silence, his guests anxiety having come to a calm rest while he ignored most everything else going on around him but the sunset..

"Good...May your next life prove long and jouyous.."

Metal-barrel raises neck-height, leveling off gracefully before jutted off its center with an erupting clash resembling thunder. The man jerks slightly, balance thrown off and a single step forward taken before his body falls limp, tumbling over rocky edge and towards the waters below. The perpetrators eyes fall on the single casing which was projected from this event, the near invisible tendrils of smoke rising from its innards. The trance is short-lived, however, as he takes one last look at the ending sun-set before casting the device over the edge with its issued-owner.. Turning swiftly on a single heel and making his way back to the vehicle. Obsidian door is slammed shut, dual-shaded windows sinking into the seats to expose the driver to his now single compatriot.

"The City, And take your time..I'm in no rush.."

The reality of the trip was, hundreds of miles, at least to the destination he spoke of, which would allow dreary dreaming whilst being half awake, eyes locked on a single line of nothing the entire way there. The trip dips heavily into the night, even into the morning, before leathery-slumber awakens to the vehicle stopping...His Window is lowered, and for now he waits...Overlooking a rather empty, but scenic park not quite in the depths of the city yet, symbolic crisp blue river cutting through the middle of it and flowing towards the sea which he'd become aquaintences with the day before...