Night falls over me like a woolen blanket, warm, comforting. I pull in snugly around myself, hiding in the blackness, in the darkness that enfolds like a ravens wing. I look up and gather the sky between my fingers, and opening one eye, I count. Two moons....countless stars. One band of golden-white hinders my vision. I pull at the ring and drop it next to the sand beside me. I look at it, at its smooth, unflawed façade of platinum and gold and glare at it’s perfection. I am not perfect. That ring was given to me by someone who lied, and told me I was. I have met someone perfect, whole. Probably the only one on the planet. A manipulator to no extent. I don’t quite understand. I am going out to kill someone who is just like me. Unfinished. Raw. But the one who I should be killing is the one who boasts perfection in his silent, uncaring manner. I pick up the ring. What is one more death, anyway? I have failed, and the only thing left for me now is to wait to die. I am not delusional, as the others are. I know very well that Legato has no mercy for those who fail. I only hope he can see it before he orders the others to kill me.
I pick up my ring, fasten my gun in its holster, finger the missing buttons on my coat, and walk away silently, letting the night shield me.
