Nero had wondered the streets and yet nothing. He had felt himself grow close a few times but each moment passed. As he meandered through the streets, he felt himself grow more and more angry as yet again he was losing the trail of his prey. By the time it was reaching the witching hour, he had decided to call it quits and began to head back to the home in this city.<br/><br/>He had hoped to have found his prey by now, have the deed done, and be back in his comfortable penthouse, feet kicked up before a raging fire. Maybe he would have called his favorite girl over? Maybe have a drink, perhaps a light wine to counter the dismal weather? Instead, here he was trudging through the mire on foot and grinding teeth to keep himself from shouting out in anger.<br/><br/>He had no need for maps or other means of getting around. He had a natural feeling for which direction to head in. Despite being in a part of town that completely unfamiliar to him, his instincts led him to the right streets within a half hour of deciding to abandon the quest. As he walked a homeless man had attempted to accost him for money. Nero felt the dark mentality he had been feeling shattered as the poor soul leaned forward with head raised. Reaching behind to his wallet, he removed a hundred dollar bill and handed it to the hobo. He didn't care what the man did with it. It was his as far as Nero was concerned.<br/><br/>After fending off the grateful gesticulations of the wino -he smelled like a brewery- Nero disentangled himself and continued on his way, moving all the quicker in hopes of a shower to remove the stink of where the man had touched him. He had no problems in giving to charity. But actually<i>touching</i>him was where he grew a line in the sand.<br/><br/>He reached his home not ten minutes later, ignoring the pointed look from the night watchman at the receptionist's desk. Yes, he knew how late it was. How was that in any way the business of a nosy security guard? He couldn't blame the fellow though. He was new and thus unaccustomed to the late hours Nero sometimes kept. He entered the private elevator to his floor and unclasped the hood as the elevator ascended to his floor. With a ding, the doors opened and Nero stepped out, cloak folded neatly over one forearm as he made the quick trek to his door. The door was biometrically locked, keyed to Nero's thumbprint. A simple press, an electronic tone, and the door unlocked and allowed Nero to enter the home he had called his for decades now.<br/><br/>Nero owned three floors in the Sentinel Tower, near the very top of the building. The first floor was not accessible by elevator. Instead, the elevator had deposited him in the lobby that led to his living room. Everything was dark save for the occasional flash of lightning that illuminated the beautiful home. He weaved his way through the furniture to a staircase that led below to the first floor. The first floor was where he spent most of his time. It contained his workstation and his hidden armory. Here, he would access the internet and peruse that enigmatic realm called the dark web. While exploring, he would keep tabs on the movements of his kind and make sure none of them would come close to the place that he called his city. While down there, he returned his swords and other weapons to their rightful place before closing up and settling in a large comfortable leather chair in front of a massive mahogany desk.<br/><br/>He spent a moment staring at the blank screens of the multiple computer monitors staring at him, shifting one foot to the other as he decided on what to do. Despite the lateness of the hour, he figured he could still give a ring to his favorite call girl. For three grand, she better be willing to get her shapely ass up and out for him. Or, he could spend the next few hours and make his eyes bleed from the glare of six computer screens. Really, the skies were the limit. Instead, he decided to do none of those things and stood up, stretching as he did. He was a tall man, near 6'3 in height and he prided himself on being in great shape. Five times a week, he worked out in private until sweat was running off of him in rivulets and he was shaking with muscle exhaustion. Despite having not had to kill any Immortal in decades, he stayed in a constant state of preparedness.<br/><br/>He paused in mid-motion of turning off the light to his workstation and ascending up the stairs. A hand reached up to stroke his stubble as a disturbing thought began to resonate through his mind.<i>What if he was wrong?</i>As soon as the thought entered his mind he suddenly felt himself grow cold as he realized that all one had to do to find where he lived would be to ask where Immortals tended to stay when visiting the city. It was no secret that Immortals passing through sometimes used the apartments on other floors of Sentinel Tower to stay at. The fact that Nero owned the top three floors was no secret either; he had even invited those of his kind to stay in his more equanimous moods.<br/><br/>As soon as he did, the feeling of one of his kind near hit him like a thunderbolt and he actually staggered as he growled out his frustration. Instead of fighting on some empty street, the fight had come to him! Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he called the front desk. A moment passed and a voice spoke on the other end."Yes Mr. Ortiz?" the bored tone of the security guard had Nero gripping the phone hard but he somehow managed to spit out the next words."In the next few moments, someone is going to enter the building. I want you to give them a keycard to my floor. Understood?" An affirmative from the other end. No doubt the man was thinking it was just a late night booty call for Nero.<br/><br/>No. Blood would be spilled this night after all.<br/><br/>As soon as the call was over, Nero hung up the phone and raced to the hidden room once more. No necessity for concealment. The naked gleam of the blades seemed anticipatory, as if they had been waiting for this moment exactly. He had no time to dawdle on them however. Gripping handles of both in a loose swordsman's grip, he reached the flight of stairs and ascended them two at a time as he heard the door to his penthouse kicked open with explosive force...<br/><br/>..and so it begins.