Devon points his scythe at Tony, the blade turning a vibrant purple, and his pupils glow with the same violet blaze. "Shut up. I don't care who you think you are, you have no right to scream at us like that. You want to start a fight? Then keep yelling. See what happens." He scowls, his hands burning with dark fire. "Who are you right now? Tony, or that stupid god Sekhmet?" He keeps his scythe drawn, and the foundations under him begins trembling and cracking.