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With a triumphant and disgustingly gooey jerk the majority of that ankle contraption tore itself out; no doubt much to the dismay of Sunstrike as blood began to trickle down the back of his pant leg.

"...what the hell? It'll never heal right with all this metal in there..."

And at that point he would begin to dig his fingers into the open wounds, trying to dig out the pins in the bone.

"I intend to!" was his answer; his leg buckling slightly when Sunstrike kicked it, but still doing nothing to relinquish the hold as he dug his fingers through the shredded flesh that the salamander was calling an ankle.

"But not-" with a sudden shove he threw Sunstrike over; taking a step back and wiping the blood from his hands onto his pant legs, "-until you can stand without crutches, wethead."

"I kind of hoped you'd hold still," he said with a scowl.

Leisurely a bloody finger pointed to his leg.

"You're not standing right. Do you have some other injury under there? Don't even bother fighting if you don't even have one good leg."

"And I've got the rest of your friends to hunt down once I'm done with you. How's your leg?"

Likely it hurt, and there was blood smeared everywhere on the cuff of his pant leg - but the wounds had closed.

He folded his arms, and couldn't help but to grin. The heat was only a small clue as to what was happening in Sunstrike's pants, but there were others that stood out much more.

"I'll tell you now that you won't get through this by holding back..." he said, "so you'd better stop me before I get to them."

He could smell it from here: the magic in the air that was boiling off of the salamander. It was the kind of power that didn't come easily, but that kind was always the most potent. He'd already dug into new wounds to make the salamander suffer, now he'd dig into old ones until Sunstrike brought out what he was hiding.

Sun snarled softly, draging his leg a little to the right in an attempt to pace, to think. He was cornered, wounded and running out of options. The last time someone had made him change, he'd had more escape routes, more control. Now, with Vahn tying up the majority of his magic, there wasn't any control, no master to hold him back, not that there had been to begin with...

"It's not that easy Joshua, they can handle themselves better then I, you came first because I'm the weakest of the four." He was assuming the reaper was talking about his teammates. Red steam flowed from his right shoulder and down his arm, more scales bubbling to the surface. Sun didn't want to change, other things were telling him this wasn't an option.

His vision was going bad from the loss of blood, he'd have to do one or the other soon, else there'd be no option left.

The orange eyes narrowed and Sun shook his head to clear it, limping all the way to the reaper and staring him right in the face. Blood smeared the ground and hissed in bright red splashes.

"Better to die a weakling then to be erased as a God. Do you bargain, or will you not even allow me a final game, Joshua." Barring any interuptions his hand would reach out and touch the blood on the other man's chest, at first lightly and then clenching the shirt in white knuckles.

"A bargain death dealer, or you get no satisfaction of a fight."

Sun skidded backwards the fist connecting solidly and driving him to a knee. His head opened in a long gash, and he was left staring at the ground for a few moments, any thoughts driven from his head. Blood seeped into his eyes and he let it, uncaring or unknowing.

A long breath was let out of his lips, like a sigh.

"Fine."

Silence came uncomfortably before the first popping sounds began.

The leg pulled itself upwards and he placed all his weight on what only could have been his shin bone and levered himself to a standing position. The knee was wrong, it started to bow backwards and extend, flesh and fabric tearing and searing alike.

The process itself was quick, usually he had time to scream, though, this time he simply went through it as if changing clothes. A means to an end.

One step and his back made a mess of itself as it extended, growing taller, another and there was a tail. Finally the figure pulled itself upwards and almost strained against Sunstrike's face before ripping it off like a mask.

Light flickered through the hair and became crackling fire, any further liquid was burnt off.

The being simply stood on two legs and looked at Joshua, heat radiating off in waves. What weapons it had seemed to be attached to it's heavily armoured torso like arms that had no hands. The metal gleamed strangly, like forged flame.

What is it you want, petit mort.

The voice was surprisingly feminine. There was no face to speak of, simply a grill like structure that served as a form of breathing apparatus. How it saw Joshua wasn't clear, but there was a readyness, an anticipation.

The helmet lifted back and she laughed.

You DARE presume I am wet after the first meeting, little death? I hardly know you... The tail lashed as the knuckles cracked, and that was all the warning this "monster" would give before she lept for him.

It was like how a rhino impacted, her head ramming for his chest and the bladed arm coming up to thrust and launch the smaller man into the air.