He stood there wondering how he managed to make it in front of her in time. The un restrained energy of his choice tore his muscles as he had raced across the nightmarish landscape to her protection. None of that mattered now as the impossible red blade found little resistance as it easily passed through his left lung, stopping inches away from her chest. No blood. Only pain. The burning agony of sizzling flesh and fading adrenaline and gasping breath. He turned around to stare death in the eye, grabbing the front of his robes.
The attack showed little intrest as he spun the blade in an arc with his wrist, severing his arm just above his elbow. The pain little compared to the dread as he fell to the ground, only to watch the attacker stalk closer to her, savoring the fear in her eyes and the antcipation of his next kill. Hate coursed through his entire being, Throbbing in his chest and stump of an arm. Threatening to overwhelm his mind. Nothing else mattered besides killing the attacker. Not saving her. Himself. Family. Life. Nothing but the rage towards that single life.
Red sparks danced along the wound in his chest. He push himself with his good arm to his knees and as he raised, and howled in pain as every cell in his body thrist of revenge.

The attacker stopped and turn to see a living corpse of a man. His skin had turned pale in the moonlight, shadows flickered has the sparks grew brighter, deeper into his soul. The attacker, without hesitation charged him, swinging his blade in an arc that should have severed him from shoulder to hip but found it halted. He had stopped it with a crudly shaped arm bursting from his stump, crackling red like lightning and holding on tightly to the attackers blade. Stunned, the attacker could only pray to his alien Gods as Lucifer poured all his hate into a shout that threatened to burst his volcal cords, and fill this mysterious force of energy he felt burning in his veins at the attacker. The attacker, losing grip on his blade flew away from Lucifer in a blink of an eye, slamming into a store front with shattering force and fell to the ground, his chest sunken in as if a hammer bashed it in.

Satisfied, but not sated, Luficer began to tire and his crude arm vanished. But, the spark in his chest continued to grow brighter, filling him with power and anger. Anger towards these invaders who tried to take the ones he loved. Deeper the sparks sank, as if they were looking back at you as you gazed at it. He late it take hold of him. Picking up the hilt of the blade, that had retracted into it, with his right and only hand, he looked up at the sky that had darkened with smoke and filled with uniform ships of alien design and prayed that their God would accept them when he salughtered them all.