The man rested his elbows against his knees, staring out from the Karthinian Spyre. He watched the unmarked airship dock to the mooring mast atop the Hyounokunese Spyre. Through his scope, he watched the Mark and her two attendants start to board. The First Mage and police commissioner right behind them.
He toyed with the weapon in his hand, letting the blade run circles around his fingers. As he watched the pompous woman and the children he called her attendants, he contemplated how simple it would be. Slice, slice. Bye-bye heathen Tokuda. No one would hear it. And, if he killed them all fast enough, no one would see it.
He hovered his lens over the Mark's unprotected heart and licked his lips.
Tempting. Oh, so tempting.
But, it wasn't the man's place to question the plan. Or his role in it. No, his was to simply wait, and watch. And, when the time was necessary, to play his own part in it.
So, rather than satisfy his own thirst for blood, the man simply stabbed his knife into the roof. He buried the blade all the way in, not stopping until only the ring-tip of the handle was left poking out of the surface.
Then, he waited.