Seeker

[Michael Vellas]

From the look on the American's face it seemed that Michael had made the right decision to approach him. It was also intriguing. There was hot anger dominant amongst the other emotions he could not begin to discern.

What had the Atharim done to this one? How many lives had they destroyed for their crusade?

The knowledge that they would soon find themselves against a much stronger prey than the frightened, inexperienced 'God', a prey that would have sharper teeth than the predator, was only a grim consolation.

Grim thoughts aside, the tension drained from his body when the man turned to him and spoke. He still held the power that raged through him as a precaution. He would not bare his throat to a Hunter, no matter the circumstance.

Michael answered the question with a vague calm. "Perhaps. I pass by the Kremlin. You may have seen me in the area if you were sightseeing."
He dismissed the subject and returned to the more pressing matter at hand. "By the look in your eye, you were not researching the oroboros for a class. Whatever your reasons, I advise you to lay low for your own good. The old man was right about something. There are some things better left alone."