Grant watched as she bolted outside. She didn't mean it, did she? She literally didn't care that she'd killed Asartha. Hope literally didn't care that she had torn his life limb from limb until it was nothing but a rotten corpse. She didn't care. It was clear. He could've killed her, but spared her, and he gets this response? Now that he thought about it, he could really do with something to settle his anger. He could feel it arise inside of him. The anger...the sheer rage that began to infuse in his bones and muscles. He tensed up...but he couldn't...not in the Windmill. Then the idea struck him. If he could do it...he could kill her, and she'd not know he did it. He grinned slightly as he quickly ran out the rear door, opposite to where Hope had departed.

	He had began to sprint away from the Windmill, wheeling left as he made it look like he was as far apart from the Windmill as possible. He had been, at least, running for 15 minutes. That was impressive, but for who he really was, it wasn't surprising. He picked up further speed, accelerating faster and faster. Grant's blood felt like it was going to leak from his skin; his heart would beat outside of his body; the muscles would contract onto a pile as small as a pea. It was painful, but he managed to keep going. He had reached a great distance, and Hope probably wouldn't have even known of his leaving...so he stopped, in the middle of an empty field. Only the wind stood with him. Silent and eerie. It was quite frightening where he stood. He had a deep smile on his face as he cracked out the inner feeling. He felt like he was going to explode. He reached into his sleeve. There was a hilt strapped to his wrist and forearm, holding a blade within it; the handle was facing outwards. He wrapped his fingers slowly around the leathery layering, drawing it and baring it to his arm. He took a deep breath, and slammed it down into his left forearm...

	A bright light emerged as he felt the energy surge through him. His arms became heated, scorching hot. His face extended in size and proportion as the transformation was taking place. The sky became dimmer as his form was spotted happening in the distance. He was miles away from Soldiers, so he could do what he wanted and when he wanted...

	Through a heavy fog of smoke, the heat rolled in. A deep growl fell inside the smoke and thuds were heard. The beast was on the move, and fast. It could cover distance in such short time, being much faster than the Flaming Titan when crawling. Holding Mutt-like aspects, greater size and strength, it was meerly the superior of other Titans. Nothing could stand against it and win. Only the most well coordinated could. And no one he knew alive was good enough...especially with Hugh leading the assault. He moved quickly, panting heavily as he did. It was so fast-paced that descriptions could not describe what movement was happening. The charcoaled body moved, sensing the horse and rider in the distance. The target was locked...and it began to thud towards it with claws bearing...