It was chaos and it was beautiful.  When she stepped into the facility, she could hear alarms, wails, cries, both angry and in despair.  This is what she lived for.  She did not fear death, only loved the feel of chaos, violence, and death so much that she seemed to avoid death itself with uncanny ability.  Death itself was a lover to her.  When her time came, she would greet it with open arms.  But that day would come in full due.<br/><br/>She reveled in the sounds, the smell and feel of magic in the air.  She had spent enough time to notice the difference in the air when magic was used that most humans did not pick up on.  She was highly intuned with her senses, because she was a predator.  She had waited for a long time for this day to come to pass.  She knew it was only time before the day would come when this war would break out, when blood would spill.<br/><br/>She had never cared about the money or the honor that the members of the burea felt so strongly motivated them.  To her, they were all monsters, the templars, the harbingers.  They simply didn't know it yet.  They were too blindsided, too proud to see what really motivated them.  The difference between her and the others was her lack of denial and the fact that her craving for death wasn't fueled by emotion.  She felt nothing.  Perhaps it was a chemical imbalance, or the way she was brought up.  But none of that mattered.<br/><br/>She stepped casually down the corridors, her booted feet stepping over the body of a temply which was splayed across the floor.  She closed her eyes for a moment, reveling once more in the smells, the sounds.  She could even smell the tinge of blood, almost taste the copperish flavor of the blood upon her tongue.  She moved forward and for a while, she was simply a bystander.  She was quiet and she knew how to move without notice.  She wanted to watch this carnage.  So often, she was the creator of such death and violence, but today they were the artists.<br/><br/>Finally, she could hear a scuffle coming from a hallway around the corner.  When her eyes laid to rest upon the two that were fighting, she recognized Aimard, one of the more skilled in combat in this facility.  There was a man, another harbinger inwhich he was engaged with.  She watched as the harbinger used his ability of shadow to maneuver around him.  She moved down, a decent distance from the two before she stopped and leaned her small frame against the wall.  Her head tilted to one side, the motion almost like that of a bird cocking it's head.<br/><br/><br/>She watched in silence, dark eyes taking in the scene before her.  It was a spectacle indeed and a cold rare smile curved those lips.  Yes, she was good at what she did, but it was a rarity to see others content with able talent.  She was at peace, watching the violence, with a strange serenity.