[center][h3][color=cyan]『𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣』[/color][/h3][/center]
[center][img]http://i65.tinypic.com/28hztyw.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img][/center] 
[hr][center][color=silver]𝕄: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕎𝕚𝕤𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕕, 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕  / /   𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟   / /  ~𝟙𝟟𝟛𝟘[/color][/center][hr]

There were cracks in its armor. His victory drew near. Sander could smell it; the rusty scent that had begun to permeate the air. Blood. The monster’s blood. As the orb descended, he watched, uncaring of the lumbering titan before him or the wounded serpent in the sky. Those weren’t his concern. The scent was. His duty was to kill, and that was that. He could do it, and he knew he could do it well. Behind him, he could vaguely smell Callan’s sweeter scent. She was bleeding, somewhere. Above, Chris was wounded as well, the scent of pine needles was very strong. A part of him wished he could help them. The rest knew he couldn’t. 

So Sander just held on the singularity of his purpose. He dashed toward the falling orb, leaping at the very last moment to knock it out of the air and into the ground. The impact only threw up more dirt and debris, but Sander soon resumed his pummelling on the metal surface. A touch of desperation was there too, as he moved his hands to catch and absorb the sliver of red.