<strong><span class="bbc_u">Anthimus’s Dream</span><br/><br/>The mist was thick and swirled about the dark form that emerged, walking on the water below. The river Styx was frigid and still – far from placid – beneath the cloaked figure’s feet. As he approached, the God lowered his hood. The whole of his eyes were as black as his hair. His sculpted pale chest was framed by the long billowing black cloak. He wore black leather pants, though his feet were bare. The only bit of color came from the blood red poppies that littered the dark water. He held a scythe in his right hand and stood there prominent. Commanding.<br/><br/>“I am Thanatos.” His voice was not loud but it seemed to come from all angles, from the very air that surrounded Anthimus. “The Gods need your help, Anthimus. You presence is urgently requested.” Thanatos spoke slowly and wisely. He waved his left hand, moonlight from an unseen moon shown off the black metal bracers, and a map made from the mist appeared before Anthimus. Thanatos pointed to a clearing in Redwood Forest in the midst of California. “Here. This is where you must go. Further instructions will be given upon your arrival.” The black orbs focused intensely on Anthimus. “As long as you do our bidding, Anthimus, I will not come for you. Your soul is safe and your body will always heal,” Thanatos reassured him, granting Anthimus temporary immortality. “Do not waste my time or I may come early for your soul…”<br/><br/>The mist began to swirl and impede Anthimus’s vision. Soon, the form of Thanatos had been swallowed. Anthimus’s vision faded to black.</strong>