A figure sat alone amongst the bustling crowd. It's general mass hurrying to take shelter from the sudden rain storm that suddenly exploded across the clear night sky. The figure remained somewhat dry, as the park-bench he sat upon took some form of cover from the tree beside it. Some form of 'Naturality in the urban jungle' scheme cooked up to keep tax-payers happy. The man sat with his left leg placed comfortably upon his right knee, his arms stretched out at shoulder level, resting upon the top of the park-bench. Due to the nature of the evening, noone took too much notice of the man. Even if a gaze had passed across him, lingered to acquire all of the details, it would have left a lot more questions in one's mind, then answered. He wore a long brown coat, that when standing, fell loosely down to his knees. The sleeves flowed down to the elbow, and then abrubtly stopped, leaving no protection for the fore-arm. It was unbuttoned, open to the white shirt underneath, that now wet, stuck moistly to the mans torso. He wore long, baggy jeans the clung to his legs now, but in dryer occaisions, the allowed free-movement, uninhibited by the tight-fit normally found in jeans. His face was covered by the shadow of his choice in head-wear, a black bucket hat, marked with floru-green, pin-stripe lines shooting off in random patterns. The eyes beneath the shadow of the hat flickered about from person to person. Sighing inwardly, he felt the impatience rise in himself as the wait began to strain him. The swarm of people rushing past making his search no easier only fueled the annoyance burning steadily within him.

" What's with this weather? ... " He muttered this quietly to himself, sending a quick gaze upwards and miming a curse words towards the thick grey clouds covering the night sky. When his gaze returned to meet the faces of the oncoming 'traffic,' it happened. Like the moment one first falls in love, or that special something happens and the moment seems to freeze-frame, and go on forever. Time slowed, all the man could see amongst the androgenous and indistinct faces was one of a woman. He felt an intensity burning up from the ashes of his impatience, as if he'd never felt such a strong feeling before, at waiting for this moment. He watched her moving slowly past him. Something in him recognised her, something that had never moved, never stirred to anything else had awoken, and now would not rest until it was known to the man.

" Illyria... "

---

Zephkiel sipped his coffee as his eyes scanned his computer. Layers upon layers of code lay in front of him, taunting him as he aspired to find their hidden secrets. Manipulating a few lines here and there, Zephkiel sighed as he uncovered even more encryption awaiting him; the night before him was not going to be pleasant.

Two hours later, despite the progress that had been made, the end was nowhere near in sight. Still, Zephkiel pressed on, pulling apart and analysing every little detail he observed. Growing more and more fatigued, he began taking longer and longer to decipher the puzzle before him. By the time Zephkiel had come to the final stages of his task, he was completely exhausted. Tapping a few more keys, the man was nearly blinded as his screen flashed bright, indicating his success. Somewhat relieved, yet heavily drained from the exercise, Zephkiel rose from his seat, heading to the coffee machine.

He had not so much as received his coffee on when his phone emitted a melodic hum. Flipping the device open, he scanned the information before him; a message from none other than the man he had been slaving for. The message held nothing more than a picture of a woman; this woman was the very same Zephkiel had been requested to investigate, alias Illyria.

"Give me a break, Leon..." Zephkiel sighed; he assumed the man had sent the picture in dry humour to remind him of his task. "Hang on..." Zephkiel whispered. Further inspection of the photograph revealed a mark along the woman's neck. Despite the probability that it was no more than a smudge, Zephkiel rushed to his laptop and hooked up his phone, uploading the picture. Enlarging the image, Zephkiel's suspicion was confirmed; a number was tattooed on the woman's neck: '281'.

Zephkiel narrowed his eyes; it almost seemed too coincidental. Walking over to a mirror, Zephkiel inspected his own neck, to confirm his recalled knowledge. Sure enough, his own tattoo, '287', was in the exact same location as this woman's. Zephkiel had acquired this tattoo from the orphanage he had been raised in; Leon had a similar tattoo linked to the very same orphanage. "It's highly unlikely..." Zephkiel thought out loud, but his mind continued to fathom the possibilities.

Returning to his computer, Zephkiel proceeded to download as much information on the woman as the police archives he had hacked into would allow; he had her perceived modus operandi, a caricature and a history of her offences. Zephkiel had not found the information he had been looking for, namely, her personal background, but he saved whatever he could onto a small USB stick.

Zephkiel spent the rest of the night trying to unravel the mysteries of the woman, but well after sunrise, he had still made very little progress. Sighing, he flipped his phone and sent Leon a message, using faux names to deter suspicion of their true identities:

Declan, it's James.

I got your message, and I racked my brains last night and only came to one conclusion. I'll meet you at our spot at NooN."

Zephkiel knew how sensitive the information upon his computer screen was, and so he made a backup onto a seperate USB stick, which he slid into a nearby drawer, before completely wiping all traces of his night's work.

Zephkiel lay in bed, unable to get to sleep despite the fatigue paining him. He did not know how long he had been lying in bed, but sleep seemed to evade him, for yet another night. Eventually, Zephkiel began to drift off.

A few hours later, Zephkiel snapped awake, despite having nowhere near enough sleep to replenish his aching body. He was not unused to such spontaneous sleeping patterns; they had been the bane of Zephkiel's existence ever since the day he had left the military. Throwing a glance at his watch, Zephkiel decided it was time he left to meet with Leon, and so he packed his car before driving to their meeting place.