The echoed words that struck his ears as he made his way through the blast doors didn't much concern him. It was apparent, by now, that his concealment was all for naught. Even then, as he stood outside the doors of the sealed chamber, his right arm rose to clutch at the remaining fabric that clung to his figure and stripped it from him. If that young whelp could see through it, there wasn't much point in hiding his face anymore. Standing in all his magnificence, or what remained of it, the doors before him proved futile as he stalked toward them. The calamity from behind them signaled that he had been a tad bit late. Unfortunately, it had been rather cliche of this man to have a massive window overlooking everything. He'd expected something more...clever.
"I hate being late. They started the ruckus without me. How blatantly rude." He expelled, driving his clawed fingertips in betwixt the sealed doors. Herculean might began to rear its head as he gradually pried at the doors, parting them with evident ease. Even as they splayed apart, his head jerked to the side as glass particles grazed by, barely etching into the side of his face. With a vicious thrust, the doors were sent reeling outward, only to fold and cave with the transcendental force applied to them.
As a select few guards scrambled after him, he noticed their clear lack of armament and could only sneer. What did they honestly believe they could do? As one reached for him, he swiftly sidestepped, his left arm rising to strike the being in the chest with his forearm. The concussive force of his swing brought the being to a halt, lifting him from the ground only for that same arm to thrust down, palm into the beings chest as he drove him into the floor. A sickening crunch resounded through out the room as his sternum was rend asunder, the very plate floor cratering under the force. Spinning around, his right latched out to secure another, the one who'd just finished reporting to Hannibal, by his skull. Without remorse, he continued in his momentum before splattering his skull against the wall. The remaining few inbound were hastily thrust into the wall as he reeled on them, both hands thrust out to send out a crippling wall of Kiai, the force of it enough to lodge them into the steel that comprised the solid husk containing himself and the others.
With only the three remaining, and the fortuitous technicians that had managed escape, Kazura's steadfast glare landed on the two squabbling figures.
"Seeings as you effectively cleaved apart my disguise, I'd say its safe to discard it for now." He spat out, lumbering strides bringing him to a stand still before the two. Oh, no, he didn't hastily jump in. Instead, his fingers continued to snap and crack as he flexed them for the time being.
Not just yet had the influence of Romero's mind games struck. Not just yet had that seed of doubt been planted. For now, it was all simply just a stare down. True enough, Aeryn had struck first. But, now, the three appeared stagnant and unflinching.
"So, you command those putrid bags of flesh out there? I commend your attempt. Sheer numbers with ever spreading capabilities has always been of wonderment in my eyes. You see, I've always been of the forceful, overpowering, style. But, no, this. This has it's own sense of finesse to it. The time it must have taken to gather such insurmountable forces; plucking each and every one from a forgotten grave. If I weren't so haughty, I'd strike up an applause." His voice coo'd out. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the least bit curious. I'd also be partially lying if I mentioned that I was here on account of stopping this event. Unfortunately, now that I look upon you, I don't believe I'm looking at the man who orchestrated this. It would be too...anti-climactic if that were the truth. So, for the time being, I'm going to have to with hold in my offering of assistance." He tacked on, rolling his eyes in mock lamentation. "You see. This little fiasco is infringing on my own machination." He finished.
It was then, though, that Romero's head games took hold. A creeping sense of urgency struck him. Though it wasn't as grandiose as the man had probably planned it to be, it was still enough to instill a clinging fear. And it was well developed, even in this narcissistic tyrant. His years here had more than proved to him that he wasn't the most omnipotent, feared, titan in its existence. This was a place where Gods coexisted with puny insects. Where man and beast, both, stood side by side, be it in alliance, or at each others throats. A flood of memories came washing over him, memories that would serve to help Romero.
His childhood, first and foremost, was relived. A powerful young brat having to save his brothers from foes that outclassed him in every step. It was a true statement that he'd not perished, but he'd been the underdog, and had received his fair punishment. The next pinprick in time was his near defeat against a fused creation of his brother and his brothers closest ally. Near death, it was by sheer coincidence alone that he'd managed to defeat the two. Had events not gone as they had, he'd have perished. Again, he'd been outclassed. A being more powerful than him had existed, and it had terrified him completely to know that he had not had the upper hand. A shudder vibrated through his being as he stood there, his eyes widening in absurd confusion.
And yet another flash triggered in his mind. His encounter with his brothers son. A child who was even more diluted in blood than he. A child who'd attained a power so incredible that it had left him nothing but a rag doll on the battle field. His death had come swiftly, and painfully. His vengeance taken out on the unfortuitous denizens of Hell. His resurrection brought with it a vengeful calamity that was quickly snuffed out a short time later in his final quarrel with his brother before the two of them were plucked out of time and space and deposited on this putrid ball of filth.
Ah. His days on Terra. Brilliant and malevolent. His rise had come swiftly. Terror was instilled upon Wing City, and Terra itself. He basked in the glory of it. His ego had risen by insurmountable magnitudes every day. Not a single foe could withstand his might.
But, then things began to change. He encountered forces he couldn't even fathom. His days of alignment with The Sealed One, and like minded accomplices, were proof of that. The Patronus. The word left a sour taste in his mouth. He was a Titan among them, but their numbers crippled him with ease. His clash with them was naught but a stalement in the end, and it was when he realized they proved nothing but a nuissance did he so turn his back, never to hear much from them again.
His clash with the being Ikiros was, as well, another slap to the face. Again, it was but a stalemate, but it proved that his might alone was hardly enough to seat him on a throne of immaculate supremacy. His face off with the Aschen, too, proved that it did not have to be beings of flesh and blood that could counter, and hold their own, against his might. No. A massive vessel miles long with planet destroying capabilities put him in his place with ease. A single blast from it leveled him into the ground. Granted he'd stood up in defiance, it was never mentioned how crippling that fire power was upon his body.
But, perhaps, the most terrifying encounter he'd ever managed was with an upper cosmos Deity simply known as Maleficus. A bane to all of existence. A primordial being beyond space and time. One whose fingertips alone could shape the realm around you, turning your very mind and body against you. Visions of dread could spring out of every inanimate object. He, alone, was the most crippling fear this being held. And it was only on account of one thing. Kazura had defeated that being. Every eye that had seen the demise of Maleficus could attest to being a witness of that colossal moment.
What terrified Kazura was that this Deity had placed himself on even ground. Had chosen to step forth as a mortal creature, commanding the same power, if not a degree more, simply to even the playing field. He would not lie that in that moment of triumph, his ego had peaked and he reveled in his victory. But, he did not dare tell a soul that he realized sometime later, in a single moment, that Maleficus could have easily rend him from existence in the blink of an eye. A power so vast, not a single being in existence, beyond God himself, could contend with.
It was this act alone that brought Kazura to realize his place. His motives had not changed, but his methods of attaining his goals had certainly skewed themselves to the point of desperation. He, alone, would be no match for such a grandiose task. He, alone, was not powerful enough to fulfill his desires. He, alone, was incapable. He was inferior. He was weak.
And as those lingering memories continued to replay within his mind, his eyes continued to dangerously widen, a panic consuming him whole. What if such a being was apart of this as well? What if such a creature had been brought to life, and this was only the forefront of a much greater plan? What more could there be to this devilish machination, surely this was not the entirety of it.
But, Kazura was not as delicate a creature as Romero would have suspected. His own mental capabilities were at his disposal as well. Having already lost his cool, a calming, and commanding, mental prowess overtook his senses; fight or flight, and he surely was not about to flee like a coward.
'If I were you, I'd suggest you take your leave of my mind, lest I show you unspeakable horrors of which you've yet to have experienced. Dabbling with the undead is one thing. Delving into the mind of a monstrous titan is another.' He threatened, knowing full well it was in vain. A man such as this, from what he'd witnessed so far, was nothing, simply, but an empty husk. There was nothing to appeal to. One who would go to such lengths as to intimidate Kazura, surely, was mad in his own strange way.
With nothing left to do but take action, Kazura was quick to do so, his right arm spearing through the air to collect Romero by his throat. He'd been keen enough to hear Romero's words before hand and, expecting that he'd done much in the same to Aeryn, chose to nip that little situation before it could full well blossom into a trivial irritation. Lifting his left arm, a single beam of Ki swelled within his palm before expelling in the young males direction. "Wait your turn, runt. I need answers. And then I'll be on my way." He snapped.
He knew he had little time, and there was little he could do to get his answers. He was also still, very well aware, that perhaps Romero hadn't planned a seed of doubt. Perhaps there was something hidden in this deep, dark, complex that was stirring. Waiting. Biding its time. He had no desire to spend more time here than was necessary.
"Who do you answer to? Who! Tell me, or I'll splay apart your putrid little body and let your own creations feed on what remains, should I be so kind as to leave anything left of you other than a gore ridden stain on the floor."
