"Luis Franco?" He had never heard such a name. Of course he immediately recognized the surname as an anagram of his own, so there was feasibility there. And Luis could stem from their lineage's consonance as well... But that would imply that someone else took the mantle from Lucien. All existing Tribals had branded his name as the title of a False Prophet, the surname forever tainted by his actions. Also... And he had no memory of his death. So that would be impossible unless he was presumed dead. But if he wielded weapons similar and carried apparel nigh-identical to his... No. That was truly impossible. He would never let the boy go down a road such as his. He would rather the boy die a man than become a monster like him. "I'm afraid I don't know anyone else that matches my description from my home. Any legacy I left behind is rendered taboo now because of my deeds. As for Phoenix's Unborn? I've never heard of them. The cultists from my home are the Abbatial - a collective praising the Infected as pieces of their divided God. No mention of a 'Cobalt Phoenix' though in all honesty, I would prefer that title over False Prophet. Sounds much more modest." [i]Devoid of any past sin.[/i] "I was rather curious, because nobody else shares the same... Strain of virus as me," he says hesitantly at first. Even though Lance was seemingly not of his world, there could still be people looking for him. "I deserted the Tribals after I found my mentor killed by one of the Abbatial's exalted abominations. Well, more like absorbed and eaten. He was damn near melded to the creature when I found him. So I killed their so-called angel and [i]ate it.[/i]" The smile on Lucien's face was most definitely not one entirely of his own. "I drank the holy fire that was its blood. I chewed on the flesh of a God. I inquired to a young zealot before killing the beast, 'if I am to devour a piece of your God, would that make me a demigod too?' That was rhetorical, of course. I do not believe in any Gods. There are only monsters and men." His smile fades, the reality of the past also beginning to dawn on him once more. "I essentially inoculated myself with that Infected's special strain of the virus. It's an arduous process that I only survived because... I inoculated myself through the blood of my mentor. He was still alive, half-infected by the Angel's blight. Begged for me not to do it. Not to become one of them. I was fuelled by vengeance then, and vengeance is a damning fire." Lucien sullenly looks down his sword as he waves it around, a trail of cobalt embers being created slowly behind it.

"A philosopher of my world, named Nietzsche once said, "Beware when fighting monsters, for when staring into the abyss, the abyss stares into you." [i] Lance eyed the man up and down, nodding.[/i] "Seems like the abyss has well and truly stared into you, taken root, and is now living there." [i] It wasn't an insulting comment, but an observation. One Lucien most likely wouldn't entirely disagree with.[/i] "And yes, I suppose you wouldn't know of the Unborn. They aren't of this world." [i] Yet, if Lance had been a part of their ranks, and they weren't of this world, how exactly was Ronin? [/i] "Vengeance is a damning fire indeed.." [i] Lance nodded in agreement, knowing the feeling far too well for his own liking.[/i] "A fire that will consume you, scorch you, and burn you until there is nothing left but ash and sorrow." [i] He spoke with wisdom and knowledge, And most of all, experience. He'd been through a crucible like that..[/i]

"So here we are then, Ronin. Two monsters with the faces of men." He says it solemnly, as he also sees that Lance has been through the same cycle of vengeance he had been through. Though the aftermath took different forms, the past was still the same. A consuming fire that takes all in its path as fuel for the crematorium that they made their homes. "How fitting that I duel you first." Lucien raised his sword towards Ronin, flames licking the air hungrily. Something else told Lance that they were no regular flames either. "This is what the Tribals called a [i]Youtou.[/i] Its name is derived from Old-Earth... Japanese, I think it is. In short it was a weapon believed to be possessed by a demon due to all the blood it has shed. In my home, the Youtou are weapons made for viral strain growths that reflect the host. In essence, I have allowed some of my mutated DNA to grow within the blade and take form, manifesting into an Infected separated from my being. I used to think that creating this would be pushing all of that hatred into something else and being rid of it," he says as he laughs bitterly at the sentiment, "truth be told, one cannot live without the other. With such great love breeds the deepest of hatred - similar to that symbol on your armour. Old-Earth, right?"

"Yes, its Japanese. A blade that has taken so many lives that it's demonic in nature, and must be fed sated with more killing." [i] Lance knew that one pretty well too.[/i] "Yin-Yang. A concept that shows no matter how much goodness and purity of Yin there is, there always be a sliver of evil. Likewise, with yang, No matter how great the evil, good always has a place within, no matter how small." [i] Lance, with his right hand, drew his third katana, the one Lucien had been eyeing. The blade itself was black, everything about the blade was devoid of color. The steel dripped wispy shadows and darkness, pooling on the ground in front of Lance. [/i] "Haven't had to do this in a while.." [i] He muttered, before placing the hilt of the third sword horizontally, to the left in his mouth, teeth clamping down on the hilt. With it, a small burst of darkness took place around the hilt, shadows leaking from the corners Lance's mouth. A seal in his mouth made specifically for his Santoryu. He bent his arms backwards, his two katanas vertically behind the third one in his jaws. If Lucien thought his fighting style was unique..Jesus.[/i] https://imgur.com/a/5ld2J [spoiler]basically what I was going For. [/spoiler]

"'And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels,'" Lucien quoted as he saw the man take his sword in his mouth. If Ronin proved to be an equally ferocious monster, he would have no choice but to release his Youtou to survive; to become one with his Hatred. He took a gauging shot with his revolver at Lance - 3 shots of .454 casull, one aimed at his waist while the other two were placed towards his arms. With revolver in one hand and flaming sword in the other, Lucien advanced towards Ronin with a practiced caution.

"Can't say I'm one for bible study." [i] Lance says, crouching as the rounds are fired. He raises The Dragon Blade vertically, the metal seeming to ripple and take on a liquid quality before it widens across Lance's body, in what was a near four foot wall. The bullets bounced off the steel, and the sword shrunk back to its normal size. [/i] "Perhaps you'll get to see my [i]Youtou[/i] Lucien. No one else ever has." [i] He says with a grin, dirt and grass flying away as he storms towards Lucien. An observant person would've noticed the shadows towards his feet, when his speed seemed to almost double. He was nearly invisible, but a trained eye could.[/i] "Three thousand worlds!" [i] Lance yells, before ending up directly in front of Lucien and taking his two swords and bringing them in a vicious downwards double strike, while his third in his mouth flitted sideways and came across at Lucien's throat. [/i]

[i]Hardlight and some kind of plasma edge. Overcoat won't do anything against the likes of those. [/i] Lucien twirls to the side and shoulder charges into the blow whilst ducking, his wide-brim hat being caught by the shadowy blade from Lance's mouth. He allows the Dragon Blade to cut a bit into his chest before twisting once more and letting the sword skitter off his ceramic pauldron. The white katana was parried away just enough by Lucien's flaming sword to take a slice out of his back but ultimately just cut through the whirling leather of Lucien's coat. In a flash of two motions, Lucien's gas mask is on - and a nanosecond after - three shots are fired point-blank into Ronin's stomach, armour piercing .45 colt rounds. It seemed that his reflexes and perception became quite formidable upon putting on the mask. His armour shoulder then rams upwards into Ronin's solar plexus - it wouldn't do much even if he was armoured, but it would drive him back. He was too close for any of Ronin's blades to be of effective range.

[i] Shadows leapt to Lance's aid, forming a barrier between his stomach and the bullets, the darkness catching them and holding them suspended in the air. Lance was driven back, backpedaling a few steps and waving an arm, which sent the suspended bullets flying back at Lucien.[/i] "It's been a while since I've met a swordsman with your kind of speed. I appreciate it." [i] Appreciate it? Almost like he was glad he was coming so close to death each moment. [/i] "You use blue fire. Time to see mine." [i] Lance's arm began to glow, a strange runic symbol on his forearm taking shape. Flakes of darkness began to swirl around Lance's form, and it wouldn't be long before Lucien saw that they were embers of flame. Fire as black as night swirled around Lance in waves. Something that should give off light did the opposite, pooling in streams and balls around him, before stopping and coalescing into one central shape. A massive arrow, made entirely of writhing and burning Pitch black fire. With a wave of his hand, Lance sent the projectile screaming towards Lucien, the arrow starting low and scorching the grass, burning it to a crisp before rising slightly and flying at Lucien aiming to take him in the chest. [/i]

Three flashes of blue fire, and the bullets became nothing more than dismembered pieces of tungsten ricocheting off of his overcoat. Lucien looked at the unholy black flame forming into an arrow and narrowed his eyes beneath the matte surface of his gas mask. [i]Definitely something the Abbatial use if they could recreate the Angel. [/i] Another flare of cobalt flame. Lucien drops to his knees and plunges his flaming sword into his own stomach, the last thing Lance seeing is the look of unbridled Hatred burning in beneath the mask. The smell of brimstone wafts through the air, intertwining with the stench of burning flesh. Thick fog begins to blanket the area, obscuring Lucien and the arrow heading for him. For a moment Lance sees him before the miasma overtakes his form: two colossal burning wings of flesh and feather, with two unholy arms created from burnt limbs clawing hungrily towards the air. The flaming sword was withdrawn from his stomach and held in one hand with the gun in the other, set alight with cobalt infernos like some demented angel of Eden. https://imgur.com/Kd304 And then the fog overtakes him and the shadow arrow.

[i] Lance had no idea what his projectile would do, considering he could no longer see it. But he had a bad feeling it wouldn't do what he wanted. Plan B. The sword between his jaws that continuously dripped darkness seemed to pulsate, before the shadows along the blade leapt and crawled over Lance's being. They covered him head to toe, a cocoon of shadowy blackness..until an invisible breeze blew the covering away. What was left standing was Lance, but not. He was covered in a new set of armor, one made of a glossy silver metal that had spidery black veins of shadow running all over it. Every crevice and ending seemed to branch into a sharp point, along with the better half of his face covered by a reaching metal cowl. The most intriguing part about this new transformation, was Lance's wings of his own. Made entirely and completely of black shadow, they branched from his back and took up a massive area behind him. And yet.. this wasn't the Youtou Lance spoke of. Not likely anyway. The vibe this transformation; and the sword that had caused it, was certainly dark and unnerving, but not quite evil or malevolent. https://imgur.com/a/K3YRP If that's how Lucien wanted to play, Lance could play. [/i]

Lucien emerged from the fog, wings and extra limbs burning with hungry cobalt fire. The arrow had found itself a mark. But not Lucien. In one of Lucien's colossal claws was Ashley May, struggling for breath as a shadow arrow was embedded through the upper right of her left lung. The wound itself seemed to leave all the flesh around it unsaturated, as if it was draining the youthful pigment of Ashley with each passing moment. Tendrils of shadow spouted from the arrow at random, sometimes clawing at Lance's daughter leaving behind oozing black marks. "D-Dad...?" The arms retracted behind Lucien's form once more, one still holding the suffering Ashley May. Lucien brandished his blade as the hungry fire crackles with a malevolent tone as if taunting Ronin. His revolver became set with flesh and bone, the hammer growing an eyeball strangely similar to that of Lance's daughter's... With a flare of cobalt flame, Lucien sidesteps into the fog once more as his burning avian wings begin to beat, wafting the smell of brimstone and burning flesh through the miasma.

[i] Lance's reaction was instantaneous, an explosion of energy whipping outwards from being, shadows lashing and cutting into anything nearby.[/i] "And here I thought you might be a man with a little bit of respect." [i] Lance growls, a swirl of abysmal shadow forming near his neck, towards his collarbone. Lance plunges his hand into it, and withdraws a sword. It's blade was black, with runes running up and down the blade. It was wider towards the hand guard, the cross piece coming out and up into two wicked points. The blade thinned out towards the end. A blue gem sat towards the hilt, and the aura of this sword.. If Lucien had thought the Demon's Heart was bad, this sword made the Demon's Heart it's bitch in terms of bad. It simply radiated feelings of anguish and sorrow, it thrives off of hate and rage, it [b]lived[/b] on the tears of the anguish and the torn. The thing was, it wasn't necessarily evil. Sure, it was definitely bad, but it wasn't entirely malevolent. [/i] "Tell me, False Prophet, what are your nightmares made out of?" [i] Lance said loudly. His white and gold sword was sheathed now, this new blade having replaced it.[/i] https://imgur.com/a/LZBPZ

"...why...?" croaked a small voice - the younger Jonathan May, struck in the torso in multiple areas by Lance's shadowy explosion. He was held captive in Lucien's left Angel-Arm and used as a shield by the man. The arm retracted, revealing Lucien as he discharged 4 shots from his revolver towards Lance before beating his wings as he flies backwards through the fog, sending gales of devouring fire and ash towards Ronin in the process. Lucien does not respond in any way. If he could hear Lance, he did not choose to acknowledge his claim. Quite strange for a man who had such distaste for monsters... But after all, he himself was one of the very demons he abhorred. The casull rounds neared Ronin as the zephyrs of flame surged towards him behind the bullets. The pungent odour of brimstone and burning flesh still dominated the air, if not becoming strengthened as the battle went on.

"Pinpoint." [i] Lance uttered, his finger tips exploding with shadow energy, launching micro lines of darkness and plucking the bullets out of the air. With another wave of his arm, a blue symbol lit up on his forearm, a runic design. Akin to the orange one from earlier, albeit slightly different. Mist began to cloud around Lance, forming water droplets on his armor and soaking the dirt and grass around him. Eventually, the mist condensed into water, and from there, columns of it swirled around Lance in his own personal typhoon. With a gesture, the water around him formed a massive tidal wave and launched from his feet, breaking right at Lucien's fire and swamping it. It clouded the area with even more steam and fog, making visibility nearly non-existent. Though, through the fog, a boy had shown up. His features were indecipherable, but he walked and carried himself like someone close to Lucien. Someone he'd been looking for. Lucien had crossed a line with Lance, and he was prepared to pay it back ten fold. He knew the images were fakes, but that didn't piss him off any less. [/i]

Lucien sees the boy through the fog but doesn't advance upon his position. Whatever state Lucien was in right now... It didn't care for the boy. This was a monster driven by its need to consume, burn and devour - all brought about in Lucien's desperation to preserve his life to find Alister. Yet this demon of his seemed too indiscriminate for someone as Lucien. For through the act of compassion came the birth of something even he could not expect. After all, the greatest trick the Devil played on Man was tricking them into believing He didn't exist. He flew downwards into the fog but well away from the boy. One of his Angel-Arms slammed down into the ground before steam began to rise from the earth all around the boy and extending even farther. Spires of bone begin to crack forth from the ground, bringing about a deluge of flame that engulfs the earth. If Ronin was hiding somewhere in the fog on the ground, he would be immolated or impaled. The bony spikes begin to vibrate violently as they emerge from the ground, releasing unsettling clicking noises throughout the air: echolocation.

[i] Lance was nowhere to be found on the ground. The steam, bones, and fire torched and annihilated the earth, but he was gone. Until..Lucien heard a whistling noise from above him. Lance, having taken to the skies with his shadowy dark wings, was plummeting downwards at Lucien at a speed that was inhuman and quite literally impossible for any human. His swords had changed, or rather, he'd gained some in the form of his Roku Togē technique. In his right hand, he held the Demon's Heart, The second was his Dragon Blade, and the third was Savior. In his left hand hand, a katana that had an orange hilt with flames licking the blade, a blue sword that had permanent condensation on the steel, and a lighter blue sword that seemed to have a permanent swirling wind around it. The most unnerving one though, was the sword he held in his jaws. A sword that was red from the hilt to the blade, and something told Lucien that wasn't paint. Whereas The Demon's Heart and the other sword Lance had drawn were unsettling.. this one was evil, in every sense of the word. Malevolence and hate emanated from it.. the very blade screamed wrong, like it shouldn't exist. But back to the part where he was falling from the sky.. Lance plummeted downwards towards Lucien at the speed of a bullet, as he drew back and struck, his seven swords seeming to slice the very air apart as they lashed out towards Lucien at a velocity that would surely kill most men.. [/i]

A flash of devouring flame consumes Lucien's figure for a moment, obscuring him from sight as Lance's blades' descent upon his form. The flame flickers to reveal Lucien standing with his flaming sword drawn but without his revolver, with no Angel-Arms and his wings having changed in a mere flare. His wings were now more avian than the grotesque hybrid before. Each feather was not inherently black, but stained with soot and some embers still burning within each quill. Eyes of different colours somehow peeked out from beneath every feather, all burning with an almighty intensity that evoked the sense of a bird with oil-soaked wings, flight clipped a conduit for fire. Lucien looked up at Lance with his gas mask through the bitter stench of brimstone. His wings propelled him sideways - to little avail - right as he brought up his blade in a series of slashes that each sent infernal deluges of a much more pure looking cobalt fire, devoid of any veiny indigo flames. It seemed that if this angel were to be cut down, he would bring his killer down with him in holy fire.

[i] Lance tucked his face closer to his chest, but still felt the fire scorch his arms and exposed parts of his body. He felt his skin blister, screaming as he fell through the world of Fire, bringing his blades across in a vicious attack that sliced the air apart and blasted flames in every direction. [/i]

The blades sheared through Lucien's ribcage, disembowelling him with an impressive display of viscera and blood instead of the same fire and ash as before. Strange. His chest cavity became a mess of burning and shadow-devoured scars in a gruesome crisscross fashion that tore open his torso. Yet he still continued to attack despite the blades almost touching his spinal cord. An inhuman screech sounds itself from behind Lucien's mask, with no sound of Lucien himself being heard in it. The angel kept delivering a flurry of attacks that all released gouts of flame that consumed them both. Parts of Lucien's flesh became charred black as he continued his tirade. Hell, he didn't even seem to care all too much about half of his innards hanging out of him. It was as if all semblance of life's importance was now void in the creature's mind. So he kept on attacking, releasing more and more cobalt flames from each blow as the airborne fight quickly approached the flaming earth.

[i] A scream erupted from Lance's threat, one that had the capacity to shred vocal cords.. a scream that originated deep within ones chest and had nothing but pain and anguish behind it. And fire.. Lance continued his assault, slashing this way and that with his seven blades in an attempt to make Lucien's body look like a tic-tac-toe board..times a thousand. He eviscerated the man's flesh and bones, his blade sinking easily and cutting through the soft skin and hard bone.[/i]

As he was being torn apart, Lucien reached his sword arm quickly around Lance and stabbed the superheated katana through him and through himself, pinning the two together. Just as he did that, his now torn-apart angel wings wrap around Ronin in a burning embrace before - [i]BAM,[/i] they hit the ground in a thud that nearly extinguished all the burning flames around them due to their velocity and sudden halt. The bones of Lucien crack and shatter, as would Lance's due to their speed if he did not have a way to cushion the damage. Lucien's bowels were splayed all across the burning earth, revealing the cut-up insides of his. To one's disgust, it seemed that the flesh beneath the leather coat was rotting and decayed long before it was burnt. His inside were only slightly reminiscent of a human's, as crudely grown extra organs still beat wildly in the most bizarre of places. The liver was missing, instead replaced by two inhuman hearts that were still beating and connected through valves to what remained of Lucien's body. The gas mask's reflective glass was cracked, revealing a slight portion of the flesh beneath. It too was rotted - a far cry from Lucien's Oriental features free of decay. He was so disembowelled in fact, that he was nearly gored apart and torn from his lower half. Yet his sword remained impaling both of them together - which upon further inspection seemed more like finely-detailed and carved bone than actual metal. It was coated in a sap-like substance similar to thickened blood, most likely from which acted as fuel for the fire to burn upon. The torn apart angel screeched once again - or it tried to, at least. Most of its vocal cords were destroyed. The hungering flames burning the earth began to run up the remainder of the creature's body before it gave Lucien an evil look through a pure black eye seen through the mask, now fit for work food and doubtfully functional. The thick fog still blanketed the area, as did the stench of brimstone and burning flesh... The latter more apparent in the ripped apart man pinned to Lance.

[i] Lance screamed, a blood curdling scream as he was pinned to Lucien via his sword, the scalding wings against his back an unpleasant reminder of times long past.. They slammed into ground with an earth shattering crash, the velocity and mass of their two bodies creating a small crater that their bodies now laid in. While Lucien was nearly cut in half, Lance was face-down, his Chaos Armor warped unnaturally around him, the fall and the heat from Lucien's attacks leaving Lance encased in a twisted and warped set of armor, bones sticking out of his skin this way and that.. Until the body near Lucien began to grow translucent, sunlight and flame alike shining through the body unnaturally..until it melted into a pool of shadows. Wispy darkness took the place of Lance's broken form, pooling in the crater beside Lucien. Footsteps resounded from outside the crater, and peeking over the edge..was Lance. He was without armor, clad only in a black t-shirt and black jeans. He certainly hadn't escaped unscathed..if that's what he'd even done. Bruises, cuts, and minor burns littered his body, but it was not nearly as bad as what had happened to "him" a few moments prior. What was new, was the hole in Lance's chest, directly below his throat. The size of a ping pong ball, a clear entry and exit wound that looked like someone had vaporized the flesh and viscera there. Clean..no blood. His seven blades were gone, replaced by one he held in his right hand. A simple katana by the looks of it, except for the hilt. It had an all white handle, lacking the generic silk wrappings most katanas had, instead having a solid color handle. On it, was one black Kanji, like it had been hastily drawn on there. The rest of the blade was nothing special, a black handguard and a simple steel blade. A spot on Lance's chest, directly over his heart was glowing with black energy. A runic design made of shadowy energy over his heart glowed intensely, black spidery veins crawling over the rest of Lance's chest.. [/i]

The dying Lucien gave on last choke before the mask upon his face broke apart after the shadows melted away. The face was a rotted and burnt mess. Lips had either rotted away long ago or were burnt recently in the battle, leaving only a fleshy humanoid maw willed with teeth that had sharpened unnatural and rows of bloody molars behind it. Its eyes were a dirty black, the same colour of the burnt wings' remains as its ashes joined the fog and the burning crater. Brimstone and burning flesh stung at Ronin's sense of smell, not only coming from the body but still pungent throughout the fog. For a brief moment, a new face takes the place of the rotted Lucien's. Facial muscles did not knit to make itself a new facade - it simply flickered there for a few moments. The face and body of Jonathan May. But then it returned to the decaying body, jaws open in an act of abhorrent defiance. And then, with the speed faster than anything shown in the battle before, came a jagged spear of ash, flame and bone. Its head was barbed and thorny, looking quite excruciating for the fractal moment Ronin saw it if his perception allowed him to. Right before it lodged itself inside the dark rune laid upon Lance's heart. The barbed spearhead caught inside his innards, the momentum of the spear so great that it almost acted like a hollow point bullet and just tore through him straight away leaving a massive exit wound. But that wasn't the case. Upon impact the spear sprouted roots of bony thorns set alight with devouring embers, scorching his black apparel and the flesh beneath - specifically his skin bearing the dark rune. It burrowed deep within the body of Ronin, setting fire to his insides and boiling his blood. For a moment the miasma cleared to reveal a masked Lucien once more, standing with his flaming sword and revolver in each hand looking quite intact contrary to the corpse eviscerated on the ground. His wings were still a hybrid of avian and Eldritch abomination, still burning with hungry fire and looking quite different in comparison to the angel wings seen just a few moments before. His Angel-Arms were the most noteworthy feature however. One still clutched the suffering body of Ashley May, while the other was now empty of Jonathan's and was now clutching a barbed spear almost identical to the one embedded in Ronin's chest. Lucien beat his wings through the fog as the distinctive scent got only stronger and more irritating, quickly followed by zephyrs of flame that surround Lucien and the area around him just in case Ronin had any more illusions sneaking around, above or behind him.

[i] Lance gritted his teeth in anticipation of what would happen next. The spear came into contact with the rune on his chest, which promptly exploded in a blast of shadowy energy. Almost with a devouring effect, it swallowed the spear into oblivion, the rune fading from existence off of Lance's skin, leaving a scorch mark on his chest. Almost like a contingency plan.. Lance sheathed the katana he had in his hand at his hip in a simple black scabbard, bowing to Lucien before placing his hand on the hilt of his blade. Shadows erupted from his feet, elbows, shoulders, knees, and palms, as he blurred from existence. The earth split apart in a massive crag, flames were extinguished in a whoosh of air, as Lance sped towards Lucien for one final attack. Lance's Iaido, his single most perfected attack in his arsenal, that up to this point, no one had witnessed it. It was the pinnacle of his capability in terms of his speed, the very air bending around him and slicing into his skin as he sped through with such force the wind itself sliced into his flesh. Lance was little more than a Wraith in the single moment he'd closed the distance between Lucien, brought his katana across his body in a vicious, demented diagonal slash across Lucien's torso, and ended up fifty feet behind Lucien. This was why Lance was known as The Demon. He'd made sure, for at least one moment, for one attack, he was the best swordsman in the world. He didn't need a whole arsenal that could outmatch someone point for point, he just needed one move that would end anyone. And this Iaido, was his. [/i]

Lance only saw the Devil for a moment. But it was there before it was ripped apart in that final blow. As Ronin began his Iaido and the earth began to crack, there was an immediate crack of flame; a response so reactive that no other man in Lance's life could've held such a reaction speed. The blade sheared through something horribly demonic. The being still shared Lucien's coat and mask, but it was ripped, torn and cut through in some places. Not from anything from the outside, but on the inside: growths of keratin and other bone tissue jutted from beneath and broke free from the reinforced leather, making Lucien's body look like some kind of torturer from Dante Alighieri's reimagining of Hell. His wings were more of a demonized reptile's than avian, still bearing some feathers but now resembling a tormented wyrm of some kind. Barbed tendrils tipped with bioluminescent blades, fangs and jaws ripped free from his back between the two wings. The Angel-Arms were replaced with thick skeletal limbs held together by burning ligaments of flesh, two on each side of Lucien. Each ended in a crescent blade like Charon's scythes, the infamous Ferryman's paddles of Greek mythology. And his sword... His sword was corrupted by polyps and fleshy growths that seemed to have mouths of their own. Near the tip erupted a large serpentine creature that twirled itself around the blade and milled around Lucien, splitting into more flesh serpents like a deformed hydra. Of course, this was all before Lance cut it in half with a single strike. The demonized version of Lucien was obliterated before anything else could form on its body, cut in half by his blow. Just as it began its death screech and turned to the same rotting corpse as the other did, Lucien seemed to unwrap from the miasma a few meters to the right of Lance's warpath. A massive hunk of flesh was taken out of his lower left torso, nearly bisecting him if not for the empty Angel-Arm holding him together while his flesh weakly knit itself enough to at least stand without falling apart. His left wing was slashed neatly in half, bone broken away from flesh as it continued to burn. The left Angel-Arm was also cut off a bit before the elbow, creating a fountain of viscera and fire in its wake. He was in a stance similar to Lance's: an Iaido ready to release a storm of death. Lucien didn't perform his nearly as fast as Lance did - he would kill himself in his current condition - but it was quick nonetheless. The sword draw was only close enough to perform a draw cut upon releasing the Iaido, which would only cause a grazing slash that wouldn't cut deep at all. But his aim was not for the depth of the wound. The Angel-Arm fused with Lucien's as he released the sword from its mechanical scabbard, slashing so quick through the air that it rends the very hydrogen in the air and creates a wave of devouring cobalt flame from the slash right towards Ronin. He doesn't stop there either: as if by routine, he draws his revolver and fires a trail mix point blank at Ronin. The first 2 shots were dragon's breath shells aimed towards both his forearms where his seals were, the remaining 4 a trail mix of shotgun shells and colt bullets fired towards his upper chest in the off hand. With every shot came another slash. With every slash came another shot. And the world burned around them. The inferno ensured that an attempt at illusions would result in any other copies of Lance being burnt by the flames unless he fled the battle in a matter of fractals. And neither of them had the energy to do that. Had Ronin's final attack delivered a blow that would hinder his strain's regeneration, he would not be able to continue his storm of attacks.