[center][img]http://s33.postimg.org/6nrdrs9a7/IMG_20160610_104224.jpg[/img]
[h1][color=Crimson]Xerxes[/color][/h1][/center]

[list]
Location:
[*] Archepeligo known as the Conomi Islands.
[/list]
[list]
Interacting:
[*][@Ira]
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[hr]


The Crimson Reaper walked through the flaming hell that was the Conomi Islands, often sticking his head in on doorways and forcing shop keepers to carry goods that once belonged to them. 

Explosion after explosion rocked the land as if its very foundations were being torn apart. The fire from explosions quickly started to spread, leaving civilians with little place to run, many turned to the sea. Those who tried to put it out, only succeed in fanning the flames.

Xerxes was lost in a stupor, he could never put his finger on it, did he love the act of killing, or was it the burning and explosions that he enjoyed?

There was a beauty in simple principles producing complex and intricate phenomena. The stealth of a tiger, the indomitable lethality of a Great White shark, the way of an anaconda, the form of a pyroclastic flow destructively rushing down a volcano, the unstoppable nature of a tornado, and even awesome massiveness of a tsunami all invoke wonder and awe as many observed them, all the while we are dreadfully conscious of the unimaginable suffering to human life that each extends towards humanity. 

Humanity lives with deadly things around them all the time, yet considering the risk small when compared to the benefit that humanity received from each. 
Despite the untold destruction an event was to bring, it would be beautiful.

The blood curling screams of a young Marine drew his attention. The poor soul was thrown into the raging inferno. His screams clearly vocalized his fear and despair, he was desperate for mercy, but the intense flames swallowed his voice and engulfed his body. The electricity in the flames popping and scarring his body further.

Xerxes grinned maniacally, killing brought a whole new prospective on life, one that sent his mind spiraling. It took a special power to kill a fellow man and it gave you a secret something—a confidence, afterward.  The feeling was a private thing. When a person files, at take-off, there is a strange feeling in ones body, not explicable, but strange. A sort of revolution in your belly. That's the way he felt when he killed. 

Xerxes soon made it to the pier, 15 wagons pulled by terrified shopkeepers following him, fearing for thier lives. It was amazing what you could get people to do when the burning of thier person was involved.

He set of to find Macxo, which was simple task, as the man had been standing at the piers end, looking out at the sea. Walking up next to him, Xerxes gazed in the direction that Marxo was, surprised to find three Navy ships speeding towards them.

The tingling in his stomach was a clear sign of anticipation, he was excited. Raising both of his arms in front of his body, he rubbed his hands together, creating friction which in turn created static and sparks. The moment his unclasped his hands, the oxygen between his hands ignited, but he increased the amount of static in it, making the flame dense. He repeated this process, but this time allowed the oxygen molecules in the air to the work to produce more static. This fed the flame, but kept it small. Within seconds a ball of unstable volatile electrical fire the could be employed to release a beam that could burn things without setting an explosion, similar to a lens focusing sunlight, instead vaporizing its target pointing it in the direction of the main ship, its bright light could be easily seen by them. 

[color=Crimson]"I could end them right now, they will get here before we can get a ship and load it."[/color] Xerxes affirmed, glancing at his Captain as electricity arced off of the ball and on to the ground around him.