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 The flaming sword was withdrawn from his stomach and held in one hand with the gun in the other, set alight with cobalt infernos like some demented angel of Eden.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.