Or'do's eyes widened, then blazed with fury's all consuming flame. His jaws gaped wide, a scream of fury tearing forth. Aleorn was not yet slain, he still struggled to rise, still clawed at the heavens, still denied his wounds. That only enraged Or'do all the more. Micolash stood grinning over the fallen Champion of Ash,

"Aspect" Or'do spoke again in that rough, torn, tortured voice. "Of Darkness." He thrust a hand before him, teeth gritted, eyes lit from within by the swirling, writhing fire of anger. "Come forth, feast upon the Damned, feast upon the helpless, feast upon my rage and sorrow!" Lightning struck the earth like a jagged river of pitch, and from it surged a third copy of Aleorn. It lunged, body held low, hands out to the side, fingers crooked, black flame bathing its entire body. With the force of a crumbling mountain, its fist smashed against Micolash's helm, turning it to a shower of metal splinters that speared his neck and tore his face apart.

Then Or'do was upon the man as he fell, fist of iron tempered in hate, edged in sorrow, struck the Host like a descending landslide. Micolash splattered against the wall, his mad voice never again to ring forth.

"My god," Aleorn managed as he stood, wounds already closing. "What was that?"

"The monster that dwells within me." Or'do knelt, holding out his hand with palm bare. The monster mirrored him, pressing its hand against his. Its body became a river of dark flames that flowed along his arm and burrowed into his heart, waiting there until again his call beckoned them forth. "And the glimpse I am granted of what I shall become."