[h2][center][color=CBD8D7]- FLOS - THE FLOWER OF DEATH -[/color][/center][/h2]

He was finally there. The field, the smell of fire and death, angels and demons and machina, all beginning to swirl into a miasma of slaughter. It was where he wanted to be, where he needed to be, on the front, cutting them down, and continue cutting them until he finally found what he was looking for. He was too far off the Gates of Hell, but this attack, this assault, it was where he would start.

Almost immediately in fact, as the whistles of war from above got louder and louder. Flos only had to glance upward to see what was making it, a machine, an abomination, pure blight catapulting itself towards death itself. It clearly wanted death, and so it shall receive.

A quick gust of his wings blew himself back, just in time for the creature to land and cover the small area with field of dust. He slowed himself down and took a knee. He focused his attention to the source as he clutched one of the sisters. His right arm reaching out, and the Final Gaze made his presence known. The blade welcomed the black sheep's hand, and in the span of a few slow seconds, faced the flaming machine. The sister took her position on top of the right arm, and Flos waited to them to make the first move.

[color=CBD8D7][i]"Finally, I'm home."[/i][/color]