Oh, how swiftly things went to utter chaos, like this!! Alastor clawed and kicked his way through buildings without care, cleaving a path of destruction that scratched an unscratchable itch in him that always reared its ugly head in the late autumn.

Scatter, vermin!! You wretched Sinners - murderers, rapists, cruel and pathetic little worms!

The draining of the power, ironically, gave Alastor so much more darkness to hide and dart through. His claws crunched through brick, mortar, glass - Vox would only have the light to see once he caught up, and until then, only the screams of startled or dying Sinners accompanied by Alastor's manic cackling led the way.