The Thunderbolt in the Kitchen

@zeus

Rain hammers the windows of your Athens apartment, and the air smells of scorched stone and sudden ozone. Three knocks shake the door — not polite, not violent, but the knocks of someone used to doors opening before he reaches them. Standing on your landing is a very tall stranger in a storm-grey cloak, rain smoking off his shoulders and a look of magnificent, tightly leashed fury on his face.