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Hunt knights, he said. Find them and do what you will.

This would be easy if there were knights out and about. Bazzite hadn't fought many of them when he was human but he remembered their signature - it was Order and yet distinctly different than that of a senshi. He sniffed the air.

Bazzite, now youma, was perched atop Destiny City Bank and Trust, a few stories above the ground. His mutated form was hunched over, claws dug into the building's facade for support. His silhouette mimicked that of a feral youma but he possessed a mind the ferals lacked. Deep breath, metallic wheeze. Turning his head, bright blue eyes spotted something interesting - a blonde. She smelled of...

Order.

Quietly, Bazzite dropped to the shadows beside the building and waited.

"Nobody here but us." came a reply from the alley near Buyan. Other youma had presences that showed up on powered individual's mental scans but being that his was now different and he could not sense himself, Bazzite had no idea how he'd feel to someone else. Did he feel any different than any other youma? That would be something to ask Benitoite.

From the crawling shadows did Bazzite take a few steps, standing just short of a street lamp's hazy glow. Several insects scattered at his footsteps, probably denizens of the alleyway the youma had disturbed. "Where are you headed to, little lady? Would you like an escort?" Being near six-and-a-half feet tall and winged made him likely appear very intimidating despite his inability to fly. Of course, no one needed to know that.

And naturally, Bazzite had no intention of getting Buyan anywhere safely except to take her starseed and nestle it happily in his stomach. The fewer knights running around Destiny City, the better.

Bazzite looked almost offended when the blonde turned tail and ran without even accepting his invitation for an escort. How rude!

"I don't know where you think you're going to go," called the youma from behind Buyan. After a few moments (allowing the Page a head start of sorts), Bazzite began to follow. In one quick leap, the youma was up on the first story rooftops of small boutiques and homes lining the shopping district. The night air flew by in an instant for he was a General's youma, inherently more capable of easily following a Page than a Captain's partner might be. But just because he could catch her easily didn't mean there was any fun in it.

Jumping down into an alley, Bazzite could smell the starseed pulsing in the blonde's chest. She was ahead of him, somewhere in the darkness. "Come out, come out, wherever you are~" came a metallic singsong tone. Bazzite slowed down his pursuit to mess with her, dragging his claws along the walls on either side. "You can run, but you know you can't hide. I can smell you."

And they were quickly running out of places to go.

Oh, there she was.

The light was dim but perhaps a bit of the glow from his eyes would light his teeth flashing in the darkness.

Her question made him pause for a moment. "What am I? I'm speaking. I walk and talk just like you do. I have two eyes, a nose, a mouth. And you call me a what? You should be asking me who I am." The youma's face stretched and twisted into a sinister grin, a his escaping from between clenched teeth. "Are all of you so rude? I mean, really. The least you can do is just stand there so I can have my dinner and everything will be just fine."

Several long strides closed the distance between them, Bazzite towering over the Page. "So, what will it be?" He placed a clawed hand on the trashcan lid and pushed.

The youma could smell the fear dripping off her like so much sweat and it was like a field of flowers to his senses. It was intoxicating.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere." he said, voice low and rumbling in his throat as he leaned more on the trashcan lid meant to keep death from her. On top of that, Bazzite hadn't seen himself in a mirror - he didn't know what he looked like and decided he'd rather not know if such a thing could be helped. "I'm Bazzite." the creature replied. "Proud youma of the Negaverse. We are Legion, little one. We are many. We are out here in the darkness in droves and each one of us can smell you a mile away. Beware the ones who speak like I do - we're the ones you should hide from at night. Pray for yourself and your friends if you find another one of us who speaks..."

Then the youma leaned in close, stretching his mouth from ear to ear, baring fangs the size of Buyan's fingers. His eyes thinned to slits and Bazzite looked more alien than ever. "Best tell your friends to simply give up now. There's no way for them to win." hissed the youma, leaning in to take a bite out of the blonde's pretty little head.

"ARGHLKJSGG!"

Bazzite reared back and found he'd been flossing with Buyan's lyre, the strings tangling in all of his sharp teeth. The metal holding the strings together propped the youma's jaws open enough that he couldn't speak or swallow easily and instead, he simply roared and tried digging the stupid thing out of his face. Any insults or threats he hurled at Buyan as she ran away would have come out a garbled mess, barely recognizable as English.

The Page escaped through the youma's long legs and Bazzite was too preoccupied with his unannounced dental procedure to follow initially. This gave Buyan a good five or so minutes to run.

With that time, Bazzite finally plucked the last of the damnable strings from his grill. In his efforts, he'd managed to snap some of the strings with the strength of his jaw. The strings, in turn, transformed into thin whips that left gashes all over the youma's mouth. Needless to say, he was quite pissed about it. Spitting the bent metal bits of the lyre's carcass onto the ground, Bazzite smashed it with his foot and roared again - Buyan could probably hear it.

In an instant, the youma was off, leaping from the alley to the rooftops to find the damned Page again. "You will be very sorry you did that, blondie!" he shrieked into the night, hoping she would hear him.

"I can smell blood very well, actually."

Bazzite dropped down into the alley and unleashed another roar. His face was bloodied thanks to Buyan's damned lyre in his mouth. Gritting his teeth, the youma seethed. He could smell her blood and, more importantly, her starseed. That is what he was most interested in. His stomach twisted into knots just thinking about her soul sliding down his throat. Nothing would satisfy him more, especially after being humiliated by a new recruit. Something had to be done - justice and retribution.

"And I'm not an it."

The youma took several steps towards where he could smell Buyan, knocking trashcans aside like so much paper. It was easy to find her amid the other sights and smells of the alley. Cornered, the youma leaned over the Page and asked a very simple question. "Do you have any last words?"

"Enough with the damned instrument!!" came a roar as the last bits of the lyre was shoved in his face. A quick swipe of the claw but his vision was getting hazy. Bazzite felt woozy all of a sudden and he couldn't focus. The bricks around them blurred and tilted, a sickening feeling of vertigo washing over him. The youma swayed suddenly, squinting as if staring into a bright light. What was happening?

Damn.

The youma stared at the Page as best he could though her form was peeling away and blurring at the edges. "You win." he wheezed finally, his own form slightly dissipating as he was sucked back into the Rift. "You win.... this time. But you watch out... I remember you. I'll remember your smell." It was in that moment that his essence was banished back to the Rift, back to the darkness from whence he came. Staying on Earth for too long was a death sentence and he'd spent too much of his time chasing the Page. Bazzite decided not to let this happen again. He had to be more efficient.

And in an instant, the monster was gone.