With a blinding flash, Zod's eyes opened, to a small and lonely inn. Quickly grabbing his sword, he scanned the room. Within seconds, an annoyed snarl echoed back to himself. The noises of a damn festival he thought. Who were these people shitting anyways? Death and destruction hung on their doorstep, land ravaged by civil war. These sods acted like everything was fine. He got dressed, paid, and stepped out into the light.
He was greeted to bright colors strewn about the people and the streets alike. His stomach painfully reminded him of its emptiness, after smelling just about all of the cities fare food. Zod approached the closet stall. Various citizens dressed in outlandishly foolish costumes, preceded to sit around a small table, all drinking the beer that hallmarked this tent.
As peoples glances gazed over Zod, their smiles faded subtly. Here that stood before them, was a particular crude looking man. At least, given the circumstances. The bartender had an excited look, clearly relishing at the chance to make a sale. "My good sir, I can see you need a drink! Why here, lets try Connlaoth's signature lager!" The man proceeded to pull a clean glass and pour beer from the many taps that riddled its wall.
"Now this brew, started way back to before either of us were born. Taste it slowly for you are drinking hundreds of years of perfection. Why, this been the staple of Connlaoth's...." The bartender gave a slight gasp. Zod started, and finished drinking the beer in the short time the man attempted to explain it. Throwing some gold quickly on to the table, Zod replied simply, "Keep the change," as he strode out the exit.
Bright and smiling faces weaved amongst the cobblestone street. All except one. A group of children ran past, singing and playing as they chased each other about. Zod was painfully reminded of his task. Walking slowly and casually, he turned his attention to the university.
Taking a hard right, he looked onto a piece of paper, and grimly matched it to the building he stood before. This part of the city was notably quieter. In fact, the only noises were Zod's increasing breath, and some sort of noise inside the building. It seemed like someone, or something was constantly shifting its weight. With a somber realization, Zod preceded to kick the door in.
The professor turned about, griping a companion in his arms. Zod stared at the two through slits, and waited for the companion to rush out the door. "That doesn't appear to be your wife professor. She sends her regards."
Zod drew his sword. The man's still twitching hand fell to the floor. Screaming out in terror, he backed up into the wall behind him, now gushing blood from the stump of an arm. With a growl, Zod's sword thrust itself into the Professor's heart. The professor screamed out at the top of his lungs, but was cut short after a moment. Gasping for air that wouldn't circulate, he collapsed onto the floor.
Zod walked out the door with haste, and back into the festival. He succeeded in killing his target, but failed to do so quietly. As guards rushed past him and towards the source of the scream, they paid no attention to him for the time being. They wouldn't put two and two together, until after investigating the crime scene he reckoned. Their minds would quickly flash back to the suspicious looking man, but by then, Zod would have at least a chance to evade.