An Unknown Being's Story

"You don't seem to understand, Alex. The powers that be are looking upon us. I don't fear the authority. I fear their authority. Do not get me wrong. I fear no one. But. There must be discretion now. My days past were wrought with annihilation and destruction. On many occasions I rend this city down to its skeletal structure. But, look around you. They rebuild. This planet poses a very challenging prize. The Militia. The Invictus. The Patronus. And even The Aschen watch on. Eventually, one of them will get the idea. If we're not prepared, the many forces of 'justice', if you'll put it won't hesitate to bring down their wrath upon me, and all of you. Discretion. Once we hold a sufficient force of might, then...and only then, can the fun truly begin. I am powerful. But I cannot handle all of them. I am merely one being, and contrary to belief, I am not immortal." He explained. "Now, off with you. Yes. To the building. I've left instructions as to where to deposit the plundering's."

Turning his attention back upon Rose, he side stepped Alex before striding toward her. A single, delicate, hand rose to secure her jaw in his hand, should he manage. An attempt to turn her face from side to side, simply to survey the damage, would leave him uttering a displeased sigh.

"That is what I need them for. And I need for you to be less reckless. It appears you're not very good at keeping low, or out of mischief. Keep in mind. I need you around, and alive. You're of no use dead." He finished, releasing her had he managed a grasp of her face.

Turning away, he'd stride further into the shadows again. "I've kept in my search of Randin. I was hoping the mutt would be around, but it appears he is not. So, to inform you, instead, Randin has been a rather large thorn in my side. I've been hard pressed in finding him. But, I am making progress. That is all. You may go off and do whatever it is you do, now."

"Try. No heavenly authority shall interfere with you from now on. I'll be sure to take care of that my self." He stated in his stride away from her. "As for that call. Now. I need funds, and I need them as of five minutes ago. This project will not get off the ground without them. As for the intel, that can wait. I'd suggest two days from now, you activate those capable of securing information on the factions I've mentioned." He added, stopping at the streets curb. "Now, you be sure to stay out of sight until necessary. We'll cross paths again, soon."

With that, his figure vanished; Instantaneous motion removing him from the area completely. Busy man, was he.

His ever watching eyes hadn't dismissed the sight of the Plaza and the ruin it beheld. Having been rather busy over the multitude of days since the birth of his great machination, this shaded individual found himself present before an unsightly pair of figures lingering in the aftermath, and rebuilding, of ruination. He had no desires to delve into the sordid establishment that was Gambit's, but instead chose to seek opportunity elsewhere this evening. He could only attest a single phrase from one of the individuals as an act of confession. From within the shadows of a nearby alley, he revealed his lithe form; that which was hidden beneath a heavy cloak of obsidian.

"Truly a sight to behold..." He commented, following the immediate words of the second individual. It was then that his words were briefly interrupted as the originating individual fully explained himself, sewing the thread of his assumptions into truth. Further forth he traveled, settling himself amongst the two before offering a well performed bow.

"What brings a couple of individuals as yourselves to this pitiful slum?" He inquired, intrigue piqued. "Though I must say, I do share your distaste in those who live here." He added, tossing a glance around once more.

The strongest survive? Oh, how dull a conclusion. The strongest do more than survive. The strongest mold creation. The strongest influence judgement and the masses. The strongest lays claim to plundering and victory. The strongest infect and dominate.

"What am I? I am but a harbinger of a message yet to be delivered, my friends, if I may so boldly claim such a thing. I, oh, I am more than a survivor. One of the strongest, and always growing..." He explained, allowing his arms to unfurl and spread to either side. "And you, the strongest, are invited to a grand machination. I've witnessed, and have heard, all I need to deem the both of you perfect for what I have planned."

Motioning toward all of Wing City, an elegant arm swept through the air, a gesture to signify all of the city. "This. This is only the beginning. Anarchy. A cacophony of shrill shrieks that'll glorify its impending demise. This cities fall shall mark the beginning of a glorious new age." He continued to explain.

And only then did he realize he was bursting with anticipation. Stepping back, slightly, he returned his gaze upon them. "Forgive me. I did not mean to prater on like that. It just seems the two of you seem well versed in what I'm currently putting together at the moment. You've heard of The Terran Militia? And their apparent war against our kind? Their petty motion to snuff out the likes of us and all other like minded individuals. I am here to prevent that. I've many others involved in my...upcoming machination, and there is always room for more. Dare I say you may be interested?"

Scrutinized and asked of, the garbed individual remained silent for the most part. Could he risk his appearance? Especially in an area so frequented with beings busy reconstructing and those who'd know of him? Could he risk such a thing? There was much heat on him anyway, and he, as well as anyone else, knew of the infamy his very name brought with it.

"Worry not about who I am beneath this robe, but what I represent. If it is a demonstration you ask for, that's a rather simple feat." He bit off, his voice laced with an air of seriousness. A single hand rose, the opposing hand reaching to pull back the long, draping, sleeve that clung to it. His palm, flattening, ushered forth a spherical ball of pure, ripe, energy. As it swirled and smoldered, he took a haphazard glance around. The most prominent target, perhaps? When he saw it, a smile spread beneath the mask that hid his jaw. A skeletal structure, barely clinging to its lofty perch. Perhaps a testament to Hatchet's previous carnage, it hadn't quite toppled. Below, workers were gathered in innumerable groups, no doubt plans being drawn to breath new life into it.

"Insects." He spat out, unleashing the condensed little mass of Ki. As it sailed through the air, its trajectory was rather unpredictable, careening wildly before embedding itself a quarter of the way up the building. The cloaked individual, though, instead raised his nails to his face, his masked being tugged down as so that he could blow upon them.

KATHOOM-RUMBLE-RUMBLE

And as the growing sphere of cataclysmic intensity spread, so did the raining ash and debris as the building wobbled, teetered, and then began to descend upon the mass beneath it. Several stories splayed upon the concrete floor of the area as an ash and debris cloud permeated the air. Other buildings collapsed beneath the weight of the grand titan, and instead...The cloak individual remained stoic and silent. -C

"Now, as the rampant chaos floods the streets and the terrified screams fill the air, I may now let you know whom you speak to. This cloud of discord shall shield others from seeing my face, but don't think it's a face I hide out of shame." He explained, his voice a tad bit louder in the aftermath of his decision.

Up did his hands rise to pull back at the hood that concealed his head, a full red mane peaking out as he did so. Those jeweled, venemous, vermillion eyes laid their sights on both of them without prejudice, or fear as his hand then removed the mask from his jaw, presenting a grin filled with pearled teeth and a fang jutting out from beneath his upper lip.

"I...Am Kazura Kanahashi...I represent the newly formed Legion. What say you to that?" He crooned, his voice holding a significant amount of pride; its very tone oozing maliciously inspired confidence.

Gingerly, Kazura once again brought his hands to his head, replacing the mask and cloth that concealed his appearance. Oh, how senseless devastation happened to sate his unending appetite for carnage and discord; it as well drew unneeded attention. As sirens of authority began to flood the area, Kazura's very figure became a blur as he leapt into the air. Only a story up did he make his position, an outcropping ledge of a building being his location. Amidst the settling dust, visibility was still feint, but by sound alone did he track a single incoming police vehicle; officers looking to stem the chaos and stem the panic, no less.

"Things must change. The fools and their follies must come to an end. This age of peace has lasted long enough. Forget the nations amongst the stars that have razed this planet. Their threat is now amongst them." His eyes began to glow, their sights set on that inbound vehicle. As miraculously as he'd forged that sphere, his eyes let out a torrent of focused heat. A potent beam of Ki that split the vehicle in two; though he made sure it was not even. From the hood it jaggedly tore through steel and the like before cleaving the passengers very arm off in its journey to rend the vehicle apart. Sparks ignited and in a blustering exploding inferno, the two fragments of the vehicle were sent scattering to either side.

"With your assistance, any and all aspirations you have are guaranteed. I, personally, assure you of that. This is no dictatorship. We all crave something. I've learned this. You can have it. The fall of this planet is what I desire. Once we've accomplished our goals, you're all free to take what you desire. Inevitably, our greed shall expand. This planet will not be the first to fall." He continued, his eyes retracting their devious glow. For now, there were no further authorities in the vicinity.

"I've bought time for your departure. There is a newly forged building upon the western side of this city..." -C

"You'll find me there, if you so wish to speak. Otherwise, I'll be sure to find you. Make your plans. Put together what you need to. There are others you shall meet in due time. My plans are coming to fruition. And you'll make fine additions. Until then, do as you need to and as you please." He finished before turning abruptly to make his departure.

It was not often the ambassador of anguish parted from the sanctity and sanctuary, if one could consider such viable, of Wing City. His coordinated machination had been churning agonizingly slow, but with the wisdom he'd gained, he found that such enterprises seemed to flourish if marinaded properly. He'd been in no rush, and today was yet another testament to his patience as he wandered far from his natural preying grounds. Still clad in all his obsidian glory, his eyes were the only visible portion of his actual body, save for a few stray locks of crimson that slid their way out from beneath his billowing hood. In his quest to induct further members into his project, he'd taken careful consideration to past accomplices, if one chose to see them as such; even he teetered on the edge of suspecting them as such. It had dawned on him that he had, at one time, been apart of a grand, devilish, scheme almost much the same as his own, but as well paradoxically different in its own aspects. The main perspective was seemingly the same; spreading misery and malice. This days goal was simple in the grand scheme of things. A single, powerful, figure he'd remembered from his days amongst Orsa.

Stalking through withered, and dead, tree's, the obsidian clad figure came to a brief pause amongst a sea of gardens. At the epicenter stood a single tired, and decrepit, mansion. Studying it, his eyes, keen and burning, singled out what appeared to be open doors, skewed on their hinges. An audible exhale stretched the fabric that clung to his face so tightly as he again resumed forward motion, an audible hiss as he drew in his next breath. He had never been close to any of those within Orsa. He had no need to. In fact, the entire roster of fools sealed their own miserable fates from the beginning, opting to work disbanded as opposed to a whole. He was none the less guilty of such a thing, opting for his brute strength and tact as opposed to a unified strike. It wasn't long until his interest had waned and he'd parted ways with the ordeal altogether. Stories told held mention of far worse fates for others within the struggle. Perhaps he was wise to have departed when he did. It wouldn't change the fact he'd still receive snide remarks by those who'd managed to survive, but in such a case a swift backhand would silence their senseless, biting, remarks.

"I wasn't very fond of any of you, but perhaps if you still possess the drive, and the will, you'll be of some use to me." He uttered, finding his proximity to the large structure ebbing away. "I'll have much use for you, if what I know is to be true." A whisper followed as he came to a halt before the looming entrance; the doors twisted and hanging. Hardly a second passed before he continued his way in, eyes scouring from left to right. Trespassing, even if a domineering, and powerful, being was risky. The failure that Orsa had inspired was sure to leave sour remnants in ones mouth, even if dead.

Coming to a halt within the main entrance hall, his eyes trailed to the floor to take note of the shattered chandelier that, at one time, must have been grand and a fetching ornament. Now it lay in a crumpled mess, its shimmering innards splayed out on the floor acting as a precarious hazard. Treading lightly, he moved toward the twisted, and disfigured, banister that appeared to be missing portions. With no sight, or sound, of who he sought out, he shook his head in slight dismay, though he knew better.

"Left to your own devices, do you still thrive? Or are you a withered, wretched, carcass that exists only in spite." He began, again turning his attention left and right, searchingly. "I have a proposition to explain."

Oh, the glory he sought. Be he damned if he'd not achieve his ultimate aim. As a man crafting a delicate, and vast, device; Tools were what he sought after. Tools and additional hands to craft with. Considering such, she was to be a hand, whilst the expendable cretins he'd picked up, like stray mongrels, would be his tools. But, 'lo, a tool was only as useful as the hand that worked it, and therefore he was being keen, so he thought, in who he'd latch his talon nailed fingers into. Would she be as he remembered? He'd seen but glimpses of her; had heard but uttered phrases. If memory served him well, this would be a very satisfying encounter.

A lingering silence had befallen Terra in terms of Legion activity; Kazura himself vanishing into the still he'd brought to life. The sudden quell in activity may have signified an abrupt change to his plans, or could have just as easily proven otherwise; the rise of a perfect storm. None of the figures he'd promptly paid heed to knew either or, all left in silence as well during his time of inactivity. The truth of the matter was quite far from what many would believe.

He was busy putting preparations in order. Unfortunately, with no word, or sight, of his right hand things had seemed to snag.

"I trust you're doing your job. It's not often I find myself displeased by your actions..." Echoed his voice into her subconscious mind. Whether she were awake, or asleep, she'd find his words to be crystal clear, in a sense. Perhaps a bit of a foggy haze surrounding them within her unconscious state, but there and dominant nonetheless.

Through the veil of telepathy, Kazura wasn't necessarily a receptor for the pain and weariness Kianna was currently submissive to, and in that alone, he was thoughtless and unwavering.

"Who else would it be? What of this Mollem?" His words pierced. Though she'd spoken the mans name aloud, even thoughts are processed and put into a state of reading before being said. Words spoken aloud, and words spoken in the silence of ones mind were received. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter. I've heard nothing of you for some time. I assume you're busy. But, I also have a notion that there may be more to it." He spoke out.

Within his current place of dwelling, a dismissive hand rose, though. He wanted this brief. "I'd appreciate it if would could speak in person. There is something I feel we must discuss. I have something to put into motion. One could consider it 'phase one'. How long must I wait?"

It was as simple as that. Knowing her personally, the vast majority of his words would be obscured and tossed to the side; something she'd not take note of. The only point he expected to hear was how long he'd have to wait. Perhaps he knew her too well...

All the jumbled notions and traffic confounded him slightly on his end. The sharp wit he was use to was not necessarily present. Unfortunately, rather than being sympathetic, he was instead vexed with irritation.

"What's there to understand? I've asked of your presence. I wish to know how long I must wait before you take time to heed my words and show yourself. There's nothing difficult about comprehending that." He snapped, his brows narrowing dangerously on his end. Was this one of her games? Surely she wouldn't try his patience. Perhaps in the past, something of the sort surely could have come to pass, but not this day. Not now.

"Something seems amiss. What sort of situation have you gotten yourself into?"

The table before him found itself clutched within the grasp of growing nails, their piercing strength enough to splinter the wood before it was sent careening off to the side. Papers and other scribbled notes were scattered in the aggressive action as his seething temper continued to rise.

It was the confusion that had drawn him to such an outlandish action. This had nothing to do with what he was saying. It had nothing to do with what he'd asked. Or did it, even?

"What are you babbling on about, you incoherent fool. Find yourself for just one petty moment so that I may understand you. Emperor? What emperor? What are you even going on about? You try my patience, woman." He snarled.

Truth be told, this was perhaps a lighter side of his temper. At least he was making an effort. Anyone else would have been as good as forgotten of.

Lost for words, the seething tyrant had finally had his fill. Some distance from Wing City, a looming cloud of dust and debris made itself visible upon the horizon. One could assume it was merely a fire being started. Perhaps a simple brush fire. None would assume it was Kazura unleashing his wrath upon what was once a hiding hole.

"Is this some sort of game? Have you lost your mind, you irritating little wretch? I don't like games. Your husband? Do you think I keep tabs on who you frolic around with under the sheets? Emperor of what?" He spat.

'You'll do well to find me within the coming weeks, Hatchet. I've some business to discuss with you. Your friend may join you if he so pleases and has time available to do so. If not, I'm not concerned. It's come to my attention that Kianna has seemingly disappeared. I've heard nothing of her since our last conversation. Not that I could understand what she was babbling on about. The only bit that drew my interest was talk of her husband being the Aschen Emperor, or something akin to that. Interesting that she'd betray her own people by divulging their information to me. Perhaps she was so inclined to do the same in regards to Legion. I wouldn't have pegged her as a conniving little traitor, but it wouldn't have surprised me either.' The words flowing would find themselves entering Hatchet's mind. Though fuzzy, and slightly distorted, they would be comprehensible, as if a day dreams haunting tone. After a brief pause, they'd flood his mind again. 'Regardless, I've gone off on tangent's. In approximately two weeks time, I'll contact you again. I've been busy in my recent silence adjusting my plans. Kianna's disappearance has grown to be a hindrance to my plans. I've had to scrap idea's and projects. I'm not sure what the other factions on this planet, or others, are up to and who has problems with me, so to speak. Therefore I've remained in seclusion. Money has slowly been drawing in with the wake of X-5's successful tasks of meddling with offshore accounts and banks. A ghost account has been set up and is collecting vast funds, but more is always appreciated. We'll speak more of this on that day, though. Nox and I have some business to attend to at the present moment.'

~

Two weeks was a relatively short period of time to many, but with Kazura deep in seclusion, it could have very well been eons. Tweaking and adjusting his plans, now that they had been forcibly changed, he had to be wary of what he did, and did not, do. Public acts of aggression would only draw military presence. And in his days, he'd learned that militant action in retaliation only escalated into global acts of purging. If they wanted you dead, you'd surely die. And, as confident as he was in his abilities, another duel with an Aschen Reverance wasn't in his list of to do's anytime soon. The last had nearly knocked him flat on his ass. He'd been stripped of most of his attire and lo' and behold if his hair, and brows, weren't singed.

'Hatchet. Within one hour, I expect you to be within the vicinity of Eastern Wing City. I'm confident that, with your resources, you'll be able to find me.'

Eastern Wing City certainly wasn't the most ideal of locations, but it would have to do. Having come from the east, he'd taken descent and had landed within the area, narrowly having landed upon a vehicle turning right in an intersection. Drawing the hood over his face, he turned promptly only to receive a cigarette butt in the face, a man spouting profanities, and the following middle finger. "Dickwad! Watch where you land, you fucking idiot. There's a sidewalk for a reason!" Brows narrowed, Kazura barely found the self control needed to keep from digging his claws into the trunk and ripping the car to the side to send it careening into the adjacent building. Disrespectful little worm.

As he approached the sidewalk, out of sheer coincidence, he teetered into a lean against a pole before folding his arms beneath his chest. His eyes flit shut before that mental channel was opened up once again.

'...I'm waiting.'

In the present moment of the initial contact, Hatchet had been perplexed by the sudden surge of words coursing through his mind. The man had found himself searching the area with precise eyes, before he finally realized the method this mysterious voice performed: Telepathy. The voice he remembered quite clearly, as it had once spoken of grand opportunities. Its bearer struck Hatchet as one of the few to merit with such regard. "I'll see you there, Kazura..." He had voiced aloud. The sound of a delighted smile gushed from his lips.

-

The shady creatures, which bumped in the night, the men whom were judged at first glance as suspicious or unfortunate, and the ultimately bizarre denizens of Wing City, were the ones who stayed true to the undefied name of 'Hatchet.' Anyone ignorant to this gathering, didn't belong. Ignorance is bliss, and the lock to offending minds.

Thus, all eyes were endowed with the wholly unified mission of reconnaissance to keep tabs on any figure which might present themselves as... more suspicious than the average 'street walker', as Hatchet liked to call them. Walkers, which patrolled the areas of Wing City in plain sight offered a vast network. They were the citizens of Terra.

'I'll be sending one of my associates. They'll bring you to me.' Hatchet's mental voice responded back.

The constant flow of Eastern Wing City had provided no clues to the renewed stream of shadows. A man, pressed in a flat black suit and sporting a black brief case had seemed to happen upon the mysterious figure, which rested on the aluminum rod. "So," The man began in a leisurely tone. "Are you... that special someone?" he asked. A plain appearance acted as a visor for the man. His hair was clean cut, and cropped to the side. Black sunglasses masked his eyes.

Amongst the silence that had plagued the area for a short while, Kazura remained poised to leave at a moments notice. Patience wasn't something he was gifted with, and the fiery wrath delivered to those who'd stand him up was something hardly favorable. It was just as he was set to bound into the sky that the suit clad fellow with a briefcase hailed him. Adjusting so that he could gaze at the man, his eyes narrowed into near slits. Special someone?

"There are limitless possibilities to that vague question, you ignoramus insect. But, I can surmise what you mean, regardless." He explained, whilst within his mind a slew of ridiculing comments commenced. Leaning in so his eyes were mere inches from the other man's, a dangerously low tone expelled from Kazura's clad mouth. "I don't have patience for idle standing. When my patience runs out, people get hurt. And I don't mean bruises and salty tears. I mean bowels splayed and bones broken. I'd make haste in taking me to Hatchet now." He threatened in a rather brutal manner, words spit in a high tempo flow.

This business would be taken care of swiftly and with diligence in mind. Kazura had various questions and opportunities to present. A vast majority of the equipment that Nox had acquired some time back still needed to be assembled and utilized. Not to mention various devices that could be brought to life through the use of stolen blue print documents. Weapons. Powerful devices capable of creating portals to other locations. Legion could very well slaughter anything that rose to oppose it.

It all simply had to be built. With laborers. And to do that, money was needed to establish facilities.

Oh how the once mighty Kazura was resorting to such...mortal methods to accomplish such feats. It was rather astounding, even to himself. He could only chuckle at the mere thought of it. But, in that same moment, he could appreciate such trouble. When all was said and done, this silly little outfit could be tossed aside. The apex titan, Kazura, heading an organization full of tyrants much like he, backed with near limitless funds, technology, and weaponry. Even the Aschen could learn to fear such a thing...in time.

It was with relative ease that he'd gone unnoticed within the sanctity of the sky. A pest filled contraption proved ample concealment if any were so searching. The ceaseless chatter he could pick up from it secured his theory that it was relaying updates to various other persons of interest. Perhaps what they called 'news'. They were rather droll in their representation of the scene below, though, as what he saw was far different from what was relayed.

"It appears much less like slaughter and more of a simple game. These two fools below are having no trouble whatsoever dealing with this. It's almost depressing to watch." His voice was muffled by the cloth clinging to his jaw, his lips faintly outlined as they moved. His glowing oculars continued to survey the scene below. Many of the swarming figures were effortlessly put to rest. But it was one particular device that caught his attention. A single pair of bracers worn by a single figure. They struck a sour chord in his memories. A tool of the Patronus. Hadn't he been told of them not too long ago by Kianna? His thin brows narrowed dangerously and his scrutiny of the subject multi-folded in intensity. Conjuring the elements so carelessly. It was bound to draw attention. Perhaps unwanted attention, even.

As the surveying news chopper continued to sway and adjust, so did the cloaked being within the sky, keeping mind not to get caught up in the spinning blades that held the mechanical vehicle aloft. He wasn't ready to be noticed just yet.

Of course, that brings curiosity as to why he was even here in the first place? It couldn't be that he was simply hunting for this posing Patronus figure that swayed and danced below. Not at all. In fact, one could consider such a thing a bonus. Though, it still dawdled on his mind as to who, and how, this figure managed to steal such a precious treasure. That wasn't the figure that wore them in his last encounter with the self righteous worms. Not that he could remember, at least. His memories were so very vague surrounding those days.

No. He wasn't here for this mess. His dealings were far more...simple than this. He'd assigned a rudimentary task for an associate and had yet to have received anything back. Now he could see why. The entire Business District, itself, had gone to hell, for lack of a better term. This was heavily displeasing, to say the least. But, who wouldn't get their kicks watching poor fools end up devoured by these...pestilent cretins running around brainless and naive. It was only the more entertaining to see them equipped with metallic limbs and the like. A childs most heinous imaginings gone wild and dosed with a vial of pure LSD.

It was as the numbers thinned that his eyes caught sight of a myriad number of others clad in blue and black garb emerging from the pile of wreckage below. They seemed more savvy of the situation. Sharp eyes caught sight of numerous tools of war and before he could even process another thought, he was caught within a plume of fire and shrapnel, his fluttering cloak reduced to smoldering rags. Still concealed, for the most part, vast amounts of red decorated with elaborate designs to could be seen beneath the concealing black. A portion of his facial concealment was, as well, scarred and torn, revealing a portion of his mouth, complete with a snarling expression that revealed a shimmering fanged canine.

As the news helicopter made haste to the ground, his figure could be seen slowly moving inbound, wisps of smoke caressing his body as he neared the ground below. His eyes were alight with the heinous fires of hell and his clutched fists brought his knuckles to appear alabaster white. No, this wasn't his place but, now, being provoked and stirred awoke a simple, signature, desire. Blood. Be it living, or dead. He had nothing but time, really. Until A. X-5 made his presence known, this would be his playground of destruction.

A single sole touched ground, followed closely by the opposing partner. His head lowered, and his signature grin arose. There wasn't much left in terms of fodder, but he'd make due with his surroundings. Anything could be his weapon. As copious amounts of slugs and the like crossed the area, his eyes met each and every one with relative ease. His body casually swayed, and lurched from left to right. He wasn't far from the scene, but he was a relatively plausible distance to unleash hell, so he believed.

"You've upset the wrong Titan. It was amusing to watch you cause such a ruckus, but this city is to be my playground. Not yours."

A single palm drew back, and, as it did, an inbound bullet struck the nexus of that palm only to flatten. The impact, so great, left it attached even as that same palm careened forward. It was then, to the ears of those around, that a deafening roar could be heard, as if the heavens had parted and had unleashed a torrent of gale force winds. Summoning a simple Kiai technique, a mammoth blast of sheer force drove forward, scattering the various inanimate objects that lay before him and sending them reeling across pavement, and rubble, alike toward the forces that lay ahead.

The one key element of this, though, was that this being held no sympathy for those caught in the wake of this devastating force. Be it friend, or foe. It wasn't simply wreckage, and debris, that had been scattered. It had been bodies. Chunks of concrete and steel. Police vehicles and civilian vehicles alike. Even poor innocents caught in the crossfire. This was his message, and it was bound to be delivered.

Hardly through, though, he let his arm rest back at his side, a sneer coiling at his lips as then, at that moment, the plastered bullet upon the nexus of his palm finally fell to the ground, a useless pancaked piece of forgery. His foreboding steps carried him further into the cataclysmic event unfolding, and it was then that his eyes sought the eyes of the two others, seeking to catch them looking back. This man here...he was the epitome of savagery and nefarious outcomes.

Wrath turned to notice a new scent,his weapon crushing through the heads of three more of the cyborgs,leaving him to see the new group that had arrived. They'd some-what thinned the horde but now there were some things about with actual minds. Time to actually be bothered with fighting it seemed,he turned to his temporary ally who would assumedly be in the middle of combat,a grin plastered to his features as the other new scent seemed to touch down. The one that then explosively tore apart the battle-field with ease. Wrathgar didn't turn to look,he didn't need to when he could hear it all. The wolf's hand grabbed onto his ally's shoulder in a seemingly friendly gesture.

"Alright mate,Game's over, yer nothin' but another piece o' fuckin meat!" He roared,raising the axe side of his weapon into the air and then striking it down in a large sweep across the beings chest in the blink of an eye. He cared not wether it had been blocked or if it had hit. He was here to kill and he was done playing these fools games and would suddenly thump down further into the horde. His wolven maw opening wide and unleashing a howl that forced the earth and concrete around him to fly off into the nearest of the cyborgs skulls as debris,he was getting serious now. His hand plunged into the ground coated in shadow's having left his weapon at his previous ally's location,pulling it out shortly afterwards and wrapping his hand around the nearest surviving cyborgs skull,crushing it easily with sheer strength.

"Impale,Burn and Shred. The Scarred Legion will rise." He said emotionlessly,sending his fist through another of the thing's chest as his words became reality. All over the field large groups of the things were dying. He simply walked toward's the more organized group holding weapons as all around him spikes tore through the ground to impale his enemies, large balls of fire sprouted forth only to explode and burn others to ashes, whilst in random location's his own brand of undead were rising from the ground. This lot wore black cloak's and white bull skull masks and were doing as he had commanded. They were rising and producing great-swords,daggers and axes to shred opposing forces to pieces. It was no easy task and a few of them were already beggining to fall but Wrath did not care,they were fodder. His armour was pure black in tint and shadows were pouring off of it,he was here to fight and he figured the things would just keep on coming.

Without further delay he would soon reach the group with weapon's,before that however he clicked his fingers together with one hand,the other sending a flame-soaked spike towards the one that had shot down the news copter. In the back-ground his crystalline weapon would be exploding in a glorious cyan display of pure reckless power. Wrath was glad he'd spent so much time training and researching,otherwise he wouldn't have nearly as many toys to show-off with.