STATUS QUO [Tag: Reshi]
December nights in Red Square were as brutal and as cold as the best places on the mortal plane. There was no lack for lighting from the large buildings surrounding him. But there was a darkness about the place that transcended visual understanding. It seemed to Erebos that no amount of floodlighting could displace the hold that darkness had on this part of Moscow. It oozed between the cracks of the snow-swept pavement. Curled around the slender bits of fur-clad mortality crossing in waves through the wide open spaces. Settled in yawning expanses between the great structures a long-ago dictatorship established. Stalked the backs of old women. Ate the shadows of sharply-dressed men.
The Greek god had no claim over Russia. But Moscow. Was. His. The city embraced him. Scattered his power throughout the streets. Feasted on him like a starving beast -- but made him only stronger. His breath fogged on the air. Here was a sanctuary for the Dark One.
Odd that he needed one, this night.
There was seeming nothing to trouble him. His reunion with Nyx had gone more smoothly than he had expected. Phlegethon was remaining quietly - thusfar - on the mortal plane, well away from the Underworld or Olympus. Akheron was true to his word and had stirred no further misfortune. And yet.
And yet.
Something troubled him. He could not name it. Erebos paced, unseen, through the throng of late-night revelers. Something troubled him. Stalked him as the darkness stalked the square. But here there was a peace that he could not find in Greece, in Haides, or the realm belonging only to the gods. He walked, shielded from mortal eyes, and waited for the city to clear his mind and reveal the true enemy within.