A shimmering shadow stalked through the plaza. Akuma stood like a prowling panther on top of a narrow ledge as he scanned the crowds and searched for the one he came for. He hoped he wasn't too late...

Carmen Dellevon searched for the one rumored to be the Silver Dragon. She ambled towards Club 47. Rumor had it the recent renovations were paid in blood.

Akuma, The Silver Dragon spied a well-dressed woman making her way towards the nightclub. She fit the description. He nodded to himself, rose, and stepped off the ledge into the darkness below.

"The bloody sun rises in the east..." Akuma spoke from the shadows off to Carmen's left. He leaned against the wall, silver armor stripped of the invisible camouflage and glinting in glow of a street light.

"To the west, eternal rest," Carmen quietly intoned in response.

Carmen Dellevon aimed her chin north. Large glass doors, tinted royal blue, set into the asteroid wall. Above the doors was an unlit sign reading Hotel Zafiro. The hotel wasn't open for business, but the lights on the interior were clearly on.

Carmen Dellevon casually flipped out a screen, her phone, and scrolled for a few seconds. She tapped it twice, brought up an image, and held the phone out for The Silver Dragon to see.

He glanced at the image, memorizing the picture, and nodded.

"I have heard of Canus. The Ronin has had dealings with investors from there. You offer a foothold into a new front... In exchange for blood. Yes?"

Carmen Dellevon slipped the phone back into the tiny purse dangling from her shoulder. She bowed her head, quickly, then turned on her heel to make for Club 47.

Akuma, The Silver Dragon disappeared into the shadows and vanished into the city.

Akuma, The Silver Dragon perched himself on the chandelier, making nary a sound or disturbance. He was a wisp of a silent breeze - a phantom prowling the shadows of the lobby.

Akuma, The Silver Dragon tip-toed down the hallway. He walked in a low crouch and kept close to the walls. His stealth field was fully operational, leaving only a shimmering distortion of light wherever he walked - and even then only when directly observed.

"Now..." He thought to himself. "Which room was he in..."

Cobreo Dellèvon was secure in his room, two body guards posted inside the door and two bodyguards out. He prepared for the evenings ribbon cutting ceremony. It should be a short affair. He wasn't looking forward to it, but his cousin seemed excited. Cobreo supposed he could put on a face for him in the least.

But fuck, Carmen was sure to be lurking about. It would be so much like her to crash a ribbon cutting ceremony. What sort of drama would she bring, he mused to himself and pulled on a sock.

Diego Dellevon was in his own suite, having had been dressed for the event for an hour. He sat at the foot of his bed and twisted the signet ring around his finger.

This was a big step, being this far from the rest of the family and being entrusted to run such a publicly faced business. He couldn't fuck it up.

Diego Dellevon took a deep breath. It was time!

Cobreo Dellèvon had decided he would make a delayed entrance. Not late, but not too soon either. There were a lot of factors pooling together to create what was almost anxiety inside Cobreo. He closed his eyes and let his minds eye wonder for a moment.

Akuma spied the two guards from his hiding place in the hallway. Too open. He thought, before sliding his wrist over the electronic lock of a nearby door. It chirped once, lit up with an angry red light, but shifted to green.

The door opened with a click and Akuma slid inside the dark empty room. He opened the window on the far end and emerged onto the balcony. Then, with well-practiced cat-like grace, the assassin shimmied along the building's edge until he reached Diego's room. Akuma peered around the corner and into the window, eyeing his prey.

Cobreo Dellèvon had wandered into Diego's room via the secret passageway hidden behind the giant painting of the Milky Way that took up way too much space on one wall. He had tapped into Diego's excitement, focusing his mind's eye on it and drowning out every sense he had.

There was no reason for Cobreo to feel vulnerable. Not now, not during the opening ceremony of one of his properties. Not surrounded in body guards, not even with less than savory family members lurking about. Not in this vacuum'd space capsule. There was no reason for Cobreo to suspect an assassin had lurked beyond the window behind him, nor reason for him to consider the assassin had entered the room.

He was blissfully and willfully vulnerable- for the first time in what felt like his life.