Had Allen Aharden, as the Destroyer was known, cared to be sensible or incautious in his fulfillment of his orders, he would have simply blasted every clone with a crimson ball and been done with it. As things stood, though, he had spent no little span of time buried in the Library (literally) and wanted a little exercise.
Besides... 'The General' had given him a sound beating while he was Bound...
It was time and past to return the favor.
The Black Blade of Destruction swept out in a smooth, practiced gesture, silently cutting air as the clones approached.
More dangerous, was the flicker of red, like bloody lightning, that arced off his wings and along his right arm, pooling in his palm. Anything touched by the power from his Hand of Annihilation would suffer it's consequences... and would be destroyed.
A fang appeared between the lips of his mad, dangerous grin.
This was Allen Aharden.
This, the one who had wrought such ruination to the ISA tower.
This, the Harbinger of Destruction... Second only to the Blind Seer...
The sphere of red light flashed through the front rank of clones, tearing through their bodies more easily than once it had shredded the steel and concrete of reigning buildings, raining destruction down upon the fools who dared stand against him. His black blade flashed out, crimson arcs flashing as it passed.
It was not the crimson of his power...
...it was the warm, ruby, crimson of blood.
((Wanton death and destruction!
twisted I'll even humble Allen so far as to get scratched...
In the next post.
maybe.))
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