That is all.
Dracos
dies again.
Lies.
*Shoots in the face*
I hadn't concieved the possibility that we would journey all the way into the core of the infernal machinations that lay beneath RPI in search of a dead man. Anastasia said nothing, staring at the masoleum, transfixed by what was a tomb, not a throne-room.
I lit a cigarette, and tried to think it out.
How could a man set plans into motion that would be carried out so well, even after his death?
One hand reflexively went to my sidearm, and I caught Anastasia's warning glare, freezing in place.
The cigarette fell to the stone floor, releasing a muffled, echoing hiss as it was extinguished by the puddle nearest to me.
It was a trap.
Anastasia smiled grimly. "It's not over yet."
I nodded wordlessly, and fell into step behind him. The hunt continued.