A man ran out of the building the Arkan was fixated on. Sirens were sounding in the distance behind him, it seemed the policewomen had called in backup before she was killed. It did not matter to him. 

His sword was scraping the sidewalk, small sparks ran a muck under it. Then he was in front of the door. Arkan's cold hand gripped the handle, twisted and opened the door. A cold, unnatural wind blew through as his presence fit the door frame. 

His sword gleamed in the light as he took a step inside, before lunging at the group before him.