It had only been a week since the last time the world made sense, but each day felt like a month to those not used to living like animals. For Edard, the anarchy really only made the city feel more like the wilds he was more comfortable in anyway. Sure it meant a few of the would-be muggers would find themselves face down in a pool of their own rapidly freezing blood after wrongly thinking him an easy target, but that was the new societal law, kill, or be killed. Ed wasn't bloodthirsty by any means, but if put in a situation of 'me or them, he had a very strong inclination to defend his own right to live.

He'd been huddled into what had once been a posh penthouse, but had since been looted and vandalized rather heavily, but as most of the windows this high up in the hotel building were somewhat intact, the broken panes were easily enough covered over with the spare roll of duct tape he'd found while rooting through the other rooms on the way up. Climbing that many stairs had been murder, but he figured most human predators would ignore him for the difficulty in reaching him, and as a side perk, he was closer to the roof, which was his preferred method of getting around, parkouring across the rooftops. 

After recieving the summons, Edard prepped his gear, slipping the gauntlet with his xiphod over his left forearm, and secured it in place before tugging his sleeve down over it. considering it was hoodie and a long-coat weather, he decided layers were his friend and bundled up appropriately. strapping the rest of his gear on, including the ammo belt and stuffing the automatic shottie in his rucksack with all his other meager, but essential possessions, -including the duct tape- he stepped out into the hallway, glad for the muffling effect of the carpet under his boots, and warily made his way up to the rooftop access so he could get to St. Michael's a few blocks away. having arrived, he made his way down to street level along a rusted fire escape a few buildings over, passed one transvestite hooker and three who were obviously women, but just as obviously diseased and or drug addled, none of whom appealed to him in the least, and passed two muggings and an attempted raping. Attempted because of his own timely intervention, though when the woman offered to *thank* him, he turned away. "I didn't do it for the thanks. Learn to protect yourself. Most strangers are more like him than me." 

Finally making it inside, he waited in the back pew for the sermon to end, and, when it had, he moved to the alter under the pretense of offering up a prayer for this world gone mad, which, in truth, it was in his heart to do so, but it was an inarticulate cry, as he could not find the words to aptly describe the state of his fellow man in recent days. Finally, all he'd said aloud was, "oh, how the mighty have fallen... amen." With that, he rose, stepped back, and gazed up at the crucifix while he waited for the promised orders to come. Surreptitiously, he glanced around at the others gathered at the altar, sizing them up as a wolf sizes up potential pack members.