(Verando's POV)Tiberius hands over the cigarette, exhaling smoke from his nose as Verando reclaims the cancer stick. He keeps his gaze directed at the dwindling patrons trickling out of the venue. "Can't believe I'm almost going to miss this- have to admit, it could be fun sometimes. " He sighs, shaking his head as Tiberius snickers.

It'd been two long weeks on the road, made longer by his lack of sleep. Without the chain, Fenrir had been at his throat to get out again, an itch that he was desperate to scratch. On a short leash with Anubis, he'd had very little as far as wayward souls to hunt. The god sent him the easy tasks, the busy work of gathering low-value targets, while Anubis dealt with long-since-expired immortals.

"I knew you secretly liked it. To be honest, I won't miss your dryspell-induced horrid moods. I'm not sure how Nic tolerates you," Tiberius crosses his arms loosely over his chest, glancing down at his phone, where those golden eyes lingered just a bit too long.

Verando clears his throat, cocking an eyebrow as Tiberius inhales sharply through his teeth. "Haebom just emailed me that you're liquidating all your properties?"

One of the more grating parts of being involved with Sirens was that there was no loyalty to him. Beyond that, there was very little they were willing to involve him in, for they operated as a collective. No one individual held any sort of secrecy from the group, so it could only be assumed that they didn't trust him to abide by those rules.

It only further solidified his decision and the necessity of this separation. Tiberius had been acting strange, perhaps sulking from their parting of ways, but it made him uneasy nonetheless.

"It was bound to happen eventually; Nic and I come from very different walks of life, and I'm sure he sees my decisions as short-sighted." Verando finishes off the cigarette, coughing with displeasure at the heaviness it left in his lungs. "Though, I'm going to need to find another place to live when he finds out I'm putting opium in my cigarettes."

The corner of the slim lips pulls up as Tiberius searches the man's expression."You've not much longer before duty calls, I'm assuming? Don't worry, I won't keep you. But, I'm genuinely shocked someone like you is so easily persuaded." Tiberius scoffs, plucking at the Lycan's suit.

Silence falls over the pair, reminding Verando of the stillness that had made him so on edge these last few days. Tiberius dusts off invisible lint as if polishing a tarnished trophy.

"You know, in many circles, you were a legend. I feel like I'm mourning you; I guess we all are; there's some resentment that Nic is getting in the way of what could have been a very long, profitable partnership."

Verando's grits his teeth, those piercing eyes cutting right through the meager attempt by the other man who clears his throat, holding up his hands in surrender.

"In that vein, I need to remind you that Tucci will not like it when he finds out your Death; he's a shadow man, and he's going to want in."

Verando pulls his lips into a thin line, quietly rolling his wedding ring as he glowers down on the crowd. The glow of the LED navigational lights illuminating the floor and the railing accentuates the lightness of his eyes and the dimple that forms as he finds amusement in the siren.

Was it a threat? Was Tiberius letting him know that he intended to tell everyone?

Stiff, this wasn't the time to show his hand.

It would be smoother to play it off as a casual threat rather than the warning it was intended to be. Tiberius was giving him the opportunity, inviting him back into the fold by groveling for forgiveness. It would appear they wanted their own leash, perhaps without me, and that just wouldn't do.

Threatening him was one thing, but as far as I was concerned, they had yet to see how rabid he could truly be.

"That's the funny thing about legends; they are usually fabricated, are they not?" Verando muses, his voice low and hard. " I'll deal with Tucci if it arrives, and you'd do well to remind yourself that if you so much as open your mouth as to my career path, I'll have to come for you."

Meeting each other's gaze, he can only take the drawn-out, uncomfortable silence as an apology. There would be no truce, no cease-fire; he'd wondered when people would begin to get uncomfortable with these decisions, and selling off his properties meant it was truly happening.

 They were losing not only endless entertainment but a powerplayer who had kept them safe. With Verando acting as Death and cutting ties, their numbers would indeed find their way to his docket sooner or later.

With a hint of irritation, he straightened, adjusting the button on the front of his suit. "Well, it would seem we've come to an understanding then-"

Tiberius snorts, rolling his eyes in patented warlord fashion.

Striding to the door, he opens it for the lycan with a sarcastic bow as if playing the part of the bus boy. "By the gods, Verando, so dramatic. Let me ask you this: Are you happy now? Finally, did family, children, and a ring make you happy? Come, I have something I want to give you."

It was easier when no one knew- when depression couldn't be used as leverage or weaponized when his performance was lacking. Everyone just thought he was an asshole and kept low expectations for improvement.

But now, it was a constant toll to continue to recant that he was, in fact, just the same. The disappointment on people's faces, their crestfallen expressions as they drifted into feeling as if his failures could now burden them and put even more weight on his shoulders.

Lie. Say nothing. Smile.

How do you explain 'same' as' better'?

It wasn't worse. That was an improvement.

A Siren was as clever as a fox.

Tiberius knew that talking about painful subjects would back him off, get him on the out, and take him off guard. Following him surely meant that Tiberius had a plan, that this conversation had solidified something for him.

"Yes."

The response catches the leading man off guard; he hesitates, glancing over his shoulder at the lycan. As they walk down the hallway, Verando slips one hand into his pocket while he checks his wristwatch.

"I don't know if you know this, Tiberius, but I'm not the most likable person."

The siren feigns shock, horrified by the suggestion.

The sarcasm makes Verando smirk, dimpling his cheek once more. "Would it be too far-fetched to say I've played out this role of fearless leader to completion? I'd like to do something that actually frightens me for once, attempting to do something I have never managed to achieve. I want to be better for them, a horrifying concept for creatures like us... but yes, the thought of it brings me happiness along with other emotions that are so... ridiculously human."

Running a hand through his hair, he shrugs a shoulder as Tiberius seems to be considering if he'd genuinely gone mad.

"Monsters like us shouldn't be left to make human decisions, so if Nic wants to sell off everything I own and live in some bloody apartment—" he laughs and shakes his head at the thought. Yet, it was so relieving to say out loud, "I'm happy to follow his lead."

"You've lost your mind, it would seem," Tiberius grumbles, pushing open a set of double doors that take him to the lower levels of the staff rooms and private suites for entertainment.

Taking a slow inhale, Verando quietly notes the vast amount of concrete surrounding them. His hand slips to rest on the gun holstered on his hip.

"Does that mean you've given up on this Alpha persona? Are you just going to call it quits?"

 Tiberius shoves one of the various steel doors open, nearly catching Verando off guard with the sudden amplification of his tone. The intelligent thing to do would be to turn around and run for it, yet he was so painfully curious that the opportunity to confront them at their least prepared would never come again. To leave now would give whoever waited beyond the door more time to strategize.

"Are you catching these days?"

"Catching?" It was Verando's turn to appear put off; he stepped through the threshold, noting that it was only Tiberius and him. Perhaps he'd read the whole situation wrong; was he really becoming this paranoid?

"As in receiving? What a horrid term... But, no, not generally. Though it's not all that bad, frankly, my libido is so ridiculous right now that I'd do just about anything he wanted. Kestrel used to take a suppressant; I'm strongly considering it; I'm like a god damned teenager-"

With an unreadable expression, Tiberius straightens, producing a bag covered in a thin layer of dust. "Damn you, why must you bring me in like this?" he demands, meeting the light gaze with an almost apologetic grimace.

 "Why can't we have conversations like this all the time? It would have made this almost impossible. You know you really are quite funny. Biting my hand off... that.. left some scars."

Verando questions his intentions momentarily as the hand disappears into the bag. Taking a step back, he makes the corner of the Siren's mouth turn up with mild amusement.

"But... This is why I told them I couldn't do it. You're so damned suspicious; you never let your guard down, and I'm not stupid enough to think I'd stand a chance with that chain off."

"Someone paid you to kill me, and you thought you could take that bid?" Verando scoffs, "I hope you cashed the check; you won't be fulfilling that request."

Shaking his head, Tiberius approaches the man only to stop as Verando lifts the gun, aiming it at him. "No, dumbass. I took their money and came to warn you." Producing the leather hood, complete with shoulder garters, he tosses it over and lifts his hands once more, "Look asshole, I'm unarmed, put the damned gun away."

Verando cautiously snaps the hood out of the air.

"Death has been killed before; this is all that's left of him-"

"So you want to kill me with a dead man's dirty ol' hood?" Verando retorts dryly, refusing to take his eyes off the Siren.

It was an amusing thought, thumbing over the material. It was soft, made of fine leather, and large enough to offer good coverage; the interesting part was the black depth of the internals of the hood.

"It's enchanted." Tiberius snaps, "It'll hide your identity, and it can't be removed except by Death himself. You've been running around showing your face to everyone, and souls talk. It takes one going in the wrong direction and one missing connection, and everyone will know exactly who you are. Anubis has been very tight-lipped; it's pissing everyone off if they're coming to me to track you down. "

It was all coming full circle; Tiberius had been propositioned, and he was trying to decide if the job was worth the upgrade from Siren to the decider of the dead. But, what Tiberius couldn't know was that Anubis would have immediately stopped any replacement.

 Even with Verando's death, it was unlikely the jackal would have allowed such a creature such an important job.

"You told them who I was." Verando replaces the gun for one of the karambits, flashing his teeth as the dead spark of his lycan blood attempts to ignite in this arctic body. "You already sold me out-"

Tiberius quickly pulled out a bag, throwing some of its contents on the ground, making Verando take a hurried step back. It was as if a barrier had been laid down, forcing him to remain on the other side. Blinking away the suddenness of the flash the material had produced, he took note of the ring encircling his feet, cast in what appeared to be blood.

"Tiberius," Verando mutters, low, scalding, the full depth of his intention clear in that one word.

"I told them nothing. A siren deals in souls; the idea was that you would come for the bodies I killed, and then I'd kill whoever that person was. Seth has a suspicion, but nobody can get behind him, considering you are bound to Fenrir, and it would be incredibly stupid of Anubis to give Fenrir so much power..."

Arching an eyebrow, the reality of the situation seemed to be catching up with the man as he buttons the top two buttons of his shirt and tugs roughly at his tie.

"God damn it this is not how I wanted it to go... shit... "

"Let me out, Tiberius." Verando seethes through his teeth.

"Yeah... I'm not going to do that. See this energy you're putting off? You're feeling very... aggressive... and I want to live. Here's what will happen: I've already been paid, so I have to give them something, but that doesn't mean it has to be what they expect. This circle.. unfortunately.. has sent a beacon to them that I've caught you. So, any minute now, they're going to take you to... unfortunately... eygpt."

"Egypt?" Verando snaps, pressing at the barrier only to scowl at how it singes his hands. "Have you lost your ever-loving mind?"

"Listen, I'm technically doing you a favor. If anyone else had been tasked with this, you'd be had, and they could come straight to your home. I gave you the hood, and I'm giving you this knowledge. Seth and Sekhmet are at the helm of this; there are probably others. Nobody on our side is interested in dealing with Eygpt, and your involvement with Fenrir means you truly are excommunicated.. frankly if you survive this, Oden will want his turn."

That would mean that Bastet had not turned him over, for she'd seen his face and made a deal with him. Horus had also been lurking; he recognized the headdress he'd faintly seen; did that mean they wanted a non-biased party?

He found it hard to believe they were puzzled by his identity; multiple deities had been hunting him from the beginning. If he recalled, Anubis had warned him that not everyone was pleased with his choice of Death. A Norse warrior would not abide by their principles or show mercy to those called to the list.

"I'm killing off their people; Anubis is altering my list because they're trying to catch me." Verando exhales, muttering more to himself than out loud. That must be part of why the Jackal had been so scarce.

Tiberius shrugs, earning a scowl as the room starts to tremble. Glancing around, the Siren wraps his arms around himself. "Are you doing that?"

"What do you think happens when you call Death against his will? For your sake, Tiberius, you best hope they manage to kill me. But.. I can assure you, they won't. I hope you run; I hope you try with every trick you possess to hide and get away from me; I'm going to enjoy hunting you down, and when I catch you-" For a split second, his eyes film over with black, "I'm going to consume you. There will be no afterlife."

It's a haunting reminder that betraying the bringing of the end of the world when he had a massive chip on his shoulder about being tricked probably wasn't the best idea. "See you later then, Fenrir." Tiberius exhales. "Perhaps on better terms."

"Not likely." Verando retorts, his eyes returning to the startling blue as he pulls the hood over his head.

A hood and a suit are not ideal for a first impression. Like a blink, he moved at a speed hard for his mind to comprehend, as magic did not come naturally to him. It was as if the world spun under his feet, and he was to remain stationary, disorientating, and, at times, nauseating. When the world stopped, he stood in what looked like a stone tomb, dimly lit only by torches and the quiet echo of voices in the distance.

His ears rang, and his eyes burned as he resisted the urge to rub at them. Quickly, he pulled off his wedding ring, slipping it into his pocket and jerking off his coat. There was the heavy smell of sage and some sort of oil.

A man of deep tan with gold arm bands and a gold chest piece approached him, heavy white linens around his waist that trailed the ground as he walked.

Upon his head was a headdress that looked like a mixture of a donkey and a jackal. His height was surprising, and yet, what was to be expected of a god?

"Alive." the man snarls, his voice low and deep.

"Sirens." The woman beside him hisses, her headdress shaped like a lioness's.

 "Unworthy creatures. Be more wary of the fact he now wears the hood."

"It makes no difference. We didn't need his identity, more so his damned body for the pire-"

"I beg your pardon, but if you'd got me in this circle and wanted me here dead, I can only assume that means I can reap either of you.. is that correct?" Verando interjects, making the tall man harden as he turns to face him.

"Speak not to a god, you insignificant-"

Verando shrugs half-heartedly, "I mean... I'm technically a god, too. Maybe even more important than you are? You know who I am... Death... but I have, honestly, no idea who you are. Kind of embarrassing."

"I am Seth you sorry excuse for a pet, you are but a tantrum Anubis is throwing. Do not grace yourself with the title of God!"

The woman places her hand on the man's shoulder, "Calm yourself, Seth. Do not let tricks lure you into a mistake."

"So I can reap you." Verando summarizes, feeling Fenrir lurking in the shadows.

"We can take them." He snarls.

Verando crushes the thought down, not needing the interjection.

"If we let them live-"

It was a risk he'd have to take, for he saw little opportunity to escape alive if he took them both on. Unleashing Fenrir did little in a fight like this. The wolf was unpredictable at best, and while Fenrir could kill gods, the rules seemed muddy regarding different religions. The only certainty would be that the Karambits could reap them, which meant they wouldn't want to get close to him.

Seth lifts his spear, shoving Sehkmet off of him, "Reap me, god of war, god of destruction, controller of sand- Peasant, you are in my realm. You are in my home, and you are so disgustingly outmatched it's almost poor sport to slaughter you-"

A second woman jumps down from her perch, her face angular with full lips and glorious dark skin. Her straight, jet-black hair sway playfully around her shoulders as her large turquoise earrings jingle against the gold of her headdress.

The only one whose face was exposed, the golden tresses framed her face, sporting golden feathers and a golden halo that encircled a large gem. Her body was draped in white, nearly see-through in places, draped over her slender hips and melding with the golden chest piece encircling her breasts.

She chuckles, almost trending into a giggle, as the hazel eyes fall on the hooded man. Verando considers her momentarily, deciding that his odds of leaving here are dwindling even lower.

"Come now, Seth. When are you to turn down a challenge? I think he's hilarious; that's got to count for something?"

"This doesn't concern you, Hathor," Sekhmet tells her firmly, pursing her lips. "Seth, Anubis can not be far behind if his balance is here..."

Balance?

Seth scowls, "Another one of his dogs. Do you truly think I fear Anubis?"

"You must if you're doing all of this so secretly." Verando insists, making Hathor giggle again.

"See? He's funny. Just go home, Seth. You failed. Can we not be done with this?" she insists, edging closer only for Seth to point his spear at her. She stiffens, lifting her chin, "If you're going to kill him, at least let him out of his cage. Or are you afraid that your immortality is truly fragile? You're the God of Sand and War; this is low, even for you."

Sekhmet frowned. "Do not let Hathor tempt you, Seth. This is nothing but a trick; we can not afford for Death to escape."

The pouty expression pulls upward into a smirk, his ashy skin reflecting the light of the nearby torch as he takes another step forward. "Do not fear, Sekhmet, I am no fool. I have nothing to prove to a dead man, least to Hathor. No, there is no sport here, but that suits me just fine."

Fenrir curses. "He's going to kill us."

"I'm well aware, let me think." Verando murmurs, noting that Alpha is painfully quiet. Was the wolf that fed up that he'd stand aside so easily?

"We can't move. We're trapped."

Seth aims with the spear, approaching more quickly, "Don't fret; once you're dead, we will know exactly who you were, and everyone involved will join you swiftly in purgatory."