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Russia.

Iden had been here only twice in the past, and neither stay had been pleasant...or prolonged. Both times had been contracts for VIP protection. Both times, the locals hadn't taken too kindly to his presence. As memory recalled, the native Cainites were a touchy, territorial lot. Regardless, Iden saw little value in returning to the country, until just now.

The trip was not difficult. He had bypassed conventional travel means by procuring a private plane. He had ignored customs and borders, because he simply requested the plane to fly over the country. Iden simply chose to jump when it suited him. The rest of the way, he travelled by whatever means was most convenient, be it stolen cars, or walking. It was a matter of only a few days' travel before he would rest his eyes on Lenin's tomb, and the site of his next target.

The arrival on scene was anticlimactic, for one. His entry into the city was mostly unnoticed. Obfuscate meant his person was nondescript, another John Q Public among the masses. Nobody paid heed, for he looked like just another tourist with a backpack, even when he reached the tomb. By then, it was just shortly after dusk.

And what a dusk it was. The sun had set, making the skyline of the old soviet parliament quite the sight. But Iden hardly appreciated it. His mind was fixated on his intended assault, as he broke into the tomb. The pristine monument was easily infiltrated, when Iden was capable of becoming indefinable as a mist.

Then, the search began for any means of delving deeper. According to Cerberus, the haven was beneath the tomb.

Iden found the sigil on the floor. But the first thing that came to mind was not to meld with the earth. The first thing that came to mind was to pry the marble up, and check beneath.

When that failed...THEN he began considering alternatives. It took some thought before his eyes eased shut, and his body began to crumble away, as he took to the earth beneath him. He'd not attempted to travel this way very often, so it would be slow going.

....No.

It was all that Iden had to say when he emerged. The discovery that there were receptionists would have been a point of amusement, but for his single-minded purpose. The obfuscate had fallen away by this point, meaning the trademark mask and weapons at his side were plain to see. If it wasn't enough for them to react on sight..then maybe he'd see what talking would do...for the moment.

Gottfrei. And yes, that is acceptable.

Iden's fingers were twitching against his arms, as he folded them over his chest. He was itching to start shooting, and just barge in. But with things as they were, he left well enough alone.

As he was led into the chamber, Iden felt the overwhelming urge to drop the backpack's explosive contents and light them off. He couldn't explain why, other than that it sounded like a damn good idea at the time. But restraint was required, given that he was having a free run to the boss. As much as it was causing him pain to not kick off the party, he stayed his hand. He took his seat at the table, and remained silent and detatched from everything around him. He would not allow himself to partake of anything present.

If Iden had recognized the woman, he would have shot her on sight. Suffice to say, her presence when unregarded, up until he was admitted to the chamber in which both she and Envy waited. Iden chose to remain standing, and waited until he was addressed to give any manner of spoken word to either present.

You assume incorrectly. I'm here on my own business. As you said...Vengeance has gone to ground. I was hoping you would know where, as Deciet is missing, and Fear is nowhere to be found.

Iden threw a glare at the woman, who was trying to warn his target of his intent. There was nothing special about the glare, other than it held a fair degree of disdain for her as a person.

GOD Iden wanted to shoot her. He truly, truly did. Accusations aside, Iden was thankful for the blatant arrogance of the Syn, to not see what was plainly laid out before them. If this one could not see the truth as it was given to him, with all evidence presented clearly, then perhaps he and his ilk did need to go. Regardless, Iden's glare remained fixed on the woman, as he considered all the lovely different patterns her blood would have made on the wall if he HAD shot her.

Perhaps she should consider the fact that I didn't shoot her for being as damnably annoying as she was.

Iden shook his head. It was pounding in his gut now, the need to squeeze the trigger.

Not yet...not yet!

His head lifted, and he nodded.

Perhaps. I don't know. If you don't know where she or deciet are...which reminds me. My other purpose in arriving.

Iden reached for the bandage on his left arm, and tore it free, revealing the handprint marked on his arm.

Last I saw deciet, he left this. It will not heal properly. Since he's not here for me to take my protest to...what the hell is this? His methods of "discipline", if you can call them that, are one thing. But if I can't heal even a trivial wound to a functional limb, then what the hell am I supposed to do when an assignment has me against something actually worth a damn, and the hits start coming?

The reluctance Iden showed was understandible. He had never, not ONCE shown anything less than disgust and sometimes hatred for Syn as a whole. But he stepped forward, holding his left arm out for Envy to see for himself. He felt a loathing sense of disgust as he did such, but he'd live through it.