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(Scion: Enuma Elish) Ch. 1 Chance and Other Gestures of the Hand of Fate

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Bill watched warily as Elias climbed into the newly arrived car, holding his nose as blood flowed from it. Seeing that the mysterious driver was revving his engine he readied himself in case they tried to run him and the woman over.
 
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The car simply burned rubber down the street. The man with the Crowbar flipped Bill off from out the back window as they shot away down the street.

The redhead gave a little groan. She was still breathing hard, face white, eyes wide. She started tentatively up to Bill. “You um... Thank you... What is that?” she gasped, reaching out with one finger to touch his chest where it was covered by the adamant shell.

The streets were empty. People had scattered when the fight broke out, so there was a good chance no one else had witnessed his display of divine power.
 
"Yeah you better run!" Bill called out as the car sped off, and as it did he tried to see what the licence plate said. Might not be important, but he figured it might come in handy of he ever found a way to look those up.

With the fight done the demigod was starting to calm down a bit, enough so that he noticed the woman he'd been protecting stepping closer to him and pressing a finger against his armored chest. "Just a trick I picked up recently," he said, his tone casual as he met her gaze. "So as long as we're asking questions, just why were those guys chasing you?" He was pretty sure that Elias had been lying when he'd answered that question earlier, but he was a little interested in seeing whether she would do the same. The truth or a lie, either one would tell him something about this woman.
 
For a moment, the redhead trembled. Then she drew several deep breaths before begining, "I work at the university, the archeology department, under Professer Cumberland.

"We were on a dig in Iraq last fall," she explained, "An anchient temple 47 khilometers from anchient Babylon. This is one of the artifacts we unearthed." She drew a fired ceramic urn--weathered, but in remarkably good condition--out of the pocket of her hoody. It depicted a magnificently dressed warrior striking down horible monsters with bolts of lightning. "We carbon dated it to anchient sumeria, around the same time hamurabils code was written, but a lot of our coleauges think it's a fake because it's so well preserved. There's something inside of it, but we havent figured out how to open it yet.

"This urn was sitting in a crate on my desk all day. Those men kicked open my door, ransacked my office, and broke open the case. I grabbed it and ran..."
 
At the mention of Iraq, the land of Bill's father and the other Anunnaki, Bill's attention was immediately caught. "Iraq you say," he muttered eyeing the unassuming urn as she held it out for him to see. "Well regardless, I think it's a safe bet that those guys won't quit just because I beat them like a drum once. Do you have someplace safe to go until the heat dies down?"
 
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