There's a gun in the night. He sees it often, in color-rich dreams. It's dark, dark here, high above the city. The light of the streets filters up in ghostly miasma, but it does little but heighten the shadows. The gun changes that. First, there are the sounds on the stair. Or sometimes, he can hear the elevator beeping its way up through empty hallways. He sits up, groggy, his ears straining against the darkness.
The man steps into the room, smelling of mercury. Quicksilver. An elusive poison. He raises the gun, the muzzle flashes and...
Orpheus Ziev is dead.
He dreams it over, and over, and over. It's growing nearer now. He anticipates the event will occur within the month unless
Orpheus Ziev will strike first. Preemptively he will destroy the future. It is a matter of 'watching' the assassin past the point of his own death. Until he unmasks himself, or inadvertently gives away his own identity. Ah, but Orpheus knows this man. They worked together, long ago. And now Mattersuit is out to kill him? That's a laugh.
He spends the next week in preparation. Research, failsafes, purification. He needs his mind as clear as it can be.
The streets are dark, but he sees nothing. The road smells of tired asphalt, still hot from the day. He taps his cane absentmindedly on the road as he sorts through the possible timelines for something he wants.
He breathes deeply and the future cements itself. The sky shakes, the night-walkers scream and run home, hoping it's all a bad dream.
A plane, emergency lights flashing hopelessly, plows into the building where Premonition has seen Mattersuit residing this night.
"Come out, come out...I know you're in there" he says softly, his voice masked by the roaring flames.