Naadam (AAT, Entei and Redline)

The Naadam Festival.

The sun hang high in the open and vast skies over Ulan-Ude, not a cloud or motion of cover. Thousands if not a near million citizens roamed through the streets to parade music, dancing and laughing as coloured chalk was thrown into the air by the grown and the young. They sang for life, and danced for joy. The white stone grounds were covered in reds, yellows, greens and blues as their shoed or bare feet struck across the pavement. Banners for a marching parade were hoisted and drawn, the crowds clearing paths as professional dancers in traditional Mongolian clothes made their way down the streets—the joyful cheering in response.

It was an occasion of joy, of happiness. A cultural revival, a place for the young and the old to unite to teach and remember the ways of their ancestors. A place for family, and a place for friends.

A lone man stood along the roof of an old, red-bricked building as he stared down into the crowds on the streets. The old building was a symbol of the Soviet reign over the region, constructed during an era of fear and oppression. When men like him entered the streets, the people would bow or flee... knowing their place in the vast Empire that once bare down on them. Events like this were banned long ago, the sun cloaked by the dark clouds from nearby refineries and factories constructed for the citizens to work before they head back under the rain and watchful eyes of an eternal guard.

And in some ways, those guards were still there.

AAT-08317 watched a group of young adults throw this chalk dust against the ageing structure of the Soviet apartment block. He watched their happiness, and their joy. The way they could defy authority, even for a moment. The assassin wondered over it for a moment, before he lifted his eyepiece back up to the street below. He stood there, in an attempt to locate something in particular. Tips from several 'reliable' sources led him here, the State was planning something.

Something big.

AAT-08317 couldn't spot much through the low cloud of several colours, the bright chalk making a veil over the people below. A few vehicles drove along near abandoned streets in the distance. Tour buses and taxis bringing foreigners from within the Federation or from out, all to witness this summer celebration. All to join in the dancing, the singing and the other festivities. All carefree. All without much worry.

All happy.

In his recent time spent in hell, Michael has made an effort to explore the human world more while he was not training. He spent a fair amount of time and money travelling the world and visiting various cultural festivals and celebrations. Today was no different.

As he walked among the people in Ulan-Ude, smiling at the small children who ran about carefree, he couldn't shake this feeling that something was wrong. Call it predator instinct, or just a sixth sense he had picked up in his time as a hero. Something clung to him like a desperate ex and wouldn't let him go.

His Cerulean eyes scanned the crowd, eventually spotting the shape clinging to the rooftops. He grimaced, his more curious and devious nature kicking in, and forcing him to blend into the chaos of the crowd, heading towards the back of the building.

Climbing it was really no issue. The architecture of it, while beautiful and historic, also gave one many foot and hand holds. Even if they didn't he could have just used his wings to fly to the top. But, what fun would that be.

"Comrade.." He said, as he reached the top, dusting off the jacket he wore. "Why do you celebrate from the rooftop. In my experience, only the suspicious do that."