Amos was about to bring his sword down upon a young women, when something slammed into his head. Instantly, he lowered Cerbanis down, looking for the creature that would strike him and his gaze fell upon a small child, some distance away. The boy was holding a human weapon, a gun, how foolish but at the same time he had felt this presence before...

[b][i]Amare.[/i][/b]

So he was right. His plan to draw out Amare and Brontes had half worked. Brontes was not here, but Amare would have to do and he listened to what he was saying.

A boring story? No. Quite the contrary, Amos had never felt more alive in this existence then he was right now.

Amos mused, [color=darkred]"My dear baby brother. One could have guessed that you have come to care for these..humans, but just remember that you have killed them as well. You and I are not so different now, so don't threaten me with your emotional response."[/color]

He then watched Amare run away from him, obviously baiting him away. 

[color=darkred]"Then run but when I catch you, you best pray that Death saves you.."[/color] Amos whispered to himself as he started running after his brother.

His aura of hate began to grow stronger, influencing those that he ran past, making them lash out at each other or anything that they saw.