[Perspective shift: none]
If you happen to have a good amount of knowledge on the world of Remnant, then you will have at least discovered the oddity that is Silver Eyes. This genetic impossibility (at least on earth) is a gift to the people of Remnant, by one of the 2 Brothers, the god of light. Those who possessed this trait, called Silver-Eyed warriors, while entirely unrelated to any yugioh archetypes, were ridiculously powerful. The powers granted are unique to each individual, but nonetheless, absolutely nerf any & all form of Grimm. To such a degree, one would ponder if it could harm the Queen. But enough of postulation.
The aforementioned Queen of Grimm feared the Silver Eyes. After all, the only thing worse than a trained warrior is one that has a bloodline ability dedicated to destroying you & your entire organization. As such, she had ordered a human soldier that worked under her to take an army of Grimm & to raize the village of the Silver Eyes and to salt the remains. The intention of doing so was to ensure that the Queen would never need to worry about the power of them ever again.
Unfortunately, her plan was a waste.
[Perspective shift: Allen, but not AS Allen]
He was in the deepest throes of wrath. These people had rescued him, given him a home, and had accepted him. They had never had an ill thought that was, at the very least, without reason. And yet, this, this GHOUL in human skin, had the gall to wreck the place?! How DARE he!
As if reacting to his sheer hatred, the veins beneath his skin began twisting and turning, roiling underneath the skin in preparation for war. Metal had begun to ooze from his body, encasing it, turning him into a horror-film parody of the Power Rangers, complete with a perfectly still-faced mask that looked as though it were stitched on.
And then, after a few seconds of wrathful trembling, he threw out his hand.
A string of metal rushed forth, in a horrifying mockery of Spiderman himself.
And the thrall of the Queen found himself short of breath, in more ways than one.
In a single fluid motion, he was dragged from his mount and falling to the earth, ready to meet the embrace of the iron not-maid below. The thrall had thought that a single blade to his neck would be enough to solve the problem. And he was right.
It was fascinating how quickly the armor shifted to form one, and the shock on the ghoul's face was hilarious to the godling.
"Now…. To make Flynn Tagggart proud."