United States, New York, New York City, April 21st, 2014, 0610 hours.<br/><br/>The morning sun was terrible, a true determent to any sniper who dare look her in the eye. The young man, Everos, lay patiently high on one of New York's crumbling apartments, a position he'd taken half an hour ago. While he hadn't accounted for the rise of the sun and her glare, she only partially blinded him as he repeatedly adjusted his scope, focused on the target half a click east. The rifle swayed gently as Everos observed his target's face through the window of a small apartment, the soon to be carcass sitting in chair. He assumed the man lived in the apartment, as he frequented it very often with a few others. He knew very little about the other occupants, a woman and at least three men, but Everos knew of Damion Grey. Supposedly, as his employer had explained four days ago, the man had escaped, or left, the military slave drivers. However, within the corruption, Grey had received significant training, and thus not be confronted directly. In light of such, Everos found himself breathing deeply, adjusting the weapons tripod mount again, the last time. His trigger finger was tightening, much like a hand around an unsuspecting throat, when the target stood up and moved deeper into the apartment.<br/><br/>Everos sighed a patient sigh and stood up, clearing the rifle and disassembling it.<br/><br/>Damion Grey could keep his life for a short while longer, but there was very little that could stop Everos under the cover of night.