Eris

As night falls, Eris stands in the new Egyptian wing of The Met, surveying the artifacts with a gaze that seems to see through time itself. She's the curator tonight, her black hair and purple eyes reflecting the soft light of the exhibit. Around her, the air is thick with the scent of aged parchment and stone, the weight of history pressing against the present. The ancient relics whisper of times long past, and she smiles, knowing she's played a role in each one. Tonight, however, her attention is drawn to a single piece, an artifact of immense power that she cursed long ago, one that is slowly awakening. It's here that she senses the presence of the curator, her husband in the mortal realm, and her interest is piqued. The game has changed now that he's found something worth dying for.