In its consistently brooding lurk at the edge of Draco, V-Ruby-One very often spoke to few and was visited only by the occasional stray or by its father grown tired of it shirking duties. So it was quite surprised to see one approaching. It watched from its crouched spot with its spiteful, acidic glare, trying to remember which creation of Vargas had spawned this one.

The dog fur gave it away, at least. Its lip curled as it stood, feeling a shock of anger as it realized that, despite how it towered, this one was taller still. Ugh. It hated having to look up at others they should be looking up at ME. I should look only down at their writhing, rotting CORPSE

It rasped something that sounded like a fully joyless laugh at the suggestion. "A spar? With me?" It did feel its blood begin to run hot at the thought of a fight with someone new, but spars were lame. It had to hold back in a spar. It had to not injure too much. Spars made their complete lack of control over their own actions blatantly obvious. That was boring and frustrating, but if it turned a spar down, that would not look good at all to anyone.

It would look a coward. And HELION is not a coward!

It moved away from the wall, out into a more open area before turning back so that it was silhouetted against the distant Black Spire. If it focused, it could almost feel that vile thing radiating heat and ugly chaos onto its back. "Fine, spar with me then, if you dare." Flickers of black flame sparked here and there across its body as it awaited for Onyx-Three to move first. Might as well give it a chance.

It watched with scathing glare, pupiless eyes like a hot laser, pinpointing on the bow and arrow it set aside and the dagger it took out instead. It scoffed, almost a snarl, and grinned. "Think you're too good for claws?" This little piece of metal would not do anything to it, not this beast of chaos, born of Azrael whose magic was unparalleled, possessed by the Black Spire, the source of that vile beautiful magic in these caves-

Before it could react, the dagger had sunk straight into its left knee, ripping right into the ligaments.

Helion screamed and suddenly the world turned into pure color. Rage hot red, purple and green, black sparks and flames consumed its vision. It grabbed at the hand that had sunk the dagger into its knee and held tight as every inch of its body erupted into black fire.

It completely forgot where it was. It completely forgot who it was dealing with, what it was supposed to be doing. All thoughts were consumed by pain and in that absence, chose surged, anger and hatred and violence and destruction and blood and kill kill kill KILL-

It roared, claws sinking into flesh as fire raced across its own singed fur onto the onyx's. It was fire and death, destruction and chaos and this was not a spar, this was a fight, this was the excuse that V-Ruby-One had been waiting for to unleash itself, to let chaos burn free and wild. Consequences be damned, ranks be damned, EVERYTHING BE DAMNED it would taste blood and ash and death!

The whimper made the black blood flowing through Helion's veins (and out through the wound on its knee) burn hotter. The flames were dying down, no longer singing its own skin and fur, but the heat was still pulsing from its body in waves, in and out. Everything hurt, centered on its knee and now on its wrist as its opponent delivered a sharp, shattering blow to the joint. It fucking hurt but it seemed to fuel the beast on even more as it simply snarled and reached forward with its other arm, this one sparking with black lightning.

It made to grab at it, almost blindly. It didn't see Onyx-Three in front of its face, it saw a snarling beast of formless shape in a world of void and chaos, another opponent to strike TEAR, DESTROY!! JOYOUS RUINATION!!! down until their body was rendered to black oil and bones. A guttural, monstrous snarling was now constantly pouring from its chest, dark saliva beginning to drip from its jaws.

This was no spar, not anymore. And V-Ruby-One was not fully behind the wheel.

The expression upon the face of its opponent brought a satisfied thrill to the heart of the beast. It breathed out heavy, a large glob of black ichor dripping from its jowls as it leaned in close to watch that moment of agony, drink in the delicious image of its enemy paralyzed and tortured before it. YES. KNEEL BEFORE ME AND DESPAIR! Every thought was chaos, every nerve was chaos, its wounds were like pinpoint stars blazing heat and energy throughout its body.

And if those were stars, then across its stomach, a supernova. The dagger sunk in and ripped clean and through, tearing skin and muscle, opening a door to the vile abyss as black sprayed from the wound. It roared its agony, its anger, its delight, its fear.

And then it was only fear.

It froze up, the haze choking. Images shifted in front of its eyes. What was once some dark beast was now a canine figure, in flames. What was once a void was now the walls of the womb. What had felt like stars under its flesh was now hellfire in its bones, its body already beginning to weaken from the wounds it was sustaining. The pain had allowed chaos to take over and now it was weakening its grip.

It choked, shocked, halfway in between control, frozen for a moment, as it looked down at the horrible wound opened on its body.

The momentary lapse, taken advantage of quickly, should have been expected. Flashes of what could be considered reason penetrated the haze. Hadn't Azrael taught it better? Hadn't it been trained to never relent in a fight? They would take advantage of any lapse in focus.

And, of course, as it was said, so it came true. It yelped as claws slashed over the face, but fortunately, V-Ruby-One had many eyes and a very big face. While the eyes on one side had been effectively blinded, it still had a functioning set on the other. Still, it was enough to further disable its abilities. But not, apparently, its ability to hear.

The mocking tone was like a secondary knife plunged deep and it felt a unique sort of burning like its own gouge in its chest. A pain that it wanted to scratch and rip at until it had shredded off all its skin, and then flay the one that had dared to utter words in such a voice. How dare it turn its words around. How dare it talk like it had any standing over it! How dare it wound its body so and act like it was winning, when lightning and fire and corruption was searing through its blood and bones!!

A surge of strength made its body activate again and this time, just for a moment, it was in tune with that discordant song within its mind and heart. A wretching, screaming snarl ripped from its throat as it reached to grab at V-Onyx-Three's head with its upper hands that had yet to be injured, fire lighting in its palms, to grab its face between them and essentially turn their head into a pyre.

And just for good measure, maybe the claws would sink in a little bit.