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Gathering intel on him had become a priority since the beginning of the war, yet details had remained sparse all throughout. His apparent ability to manipulate flocks of black birds made little sense to Abbas' mind--and to the many reapers among his brethren, as well.

Because there was more to it than simply controlling them. If that were all it was, his ability might be easily explained by some sort of psychic connection developed via mutation. But no, those birds could do so much more. They were supernaturally resilient, able to withstand conventional firearms, extreme temperatures, and more force than even most servants. Plus, they could spit acid, fire, ice, electricity, toxic fumes, and even explosions.

And their agility. They were speedy little bastards, quick to dodge. Strong, too. The Man of Crows often sat or even stood atop a cluster of them as if they were a solid platform. They sometimes went to the aid of his subordinate Abolishers, too, which was quite obnoxious.

The damned things were more akin to dragons than birds.

For a while, Abbas had thought they might also be machines, just disguised. But after blasting whole swathes of them to pieces personally, he saw that they were indeed biological.

That encounter had not earned Abbas much favor with the Man of Crows, it seemed. This was going to be their seventh clash in as many days. Even before the disaster at Uego, Albert Crowe had been gunning for him.

If the suit's systems were at optimal performance, and if he didn't have so many civilians to look after at the moment, Abbas might have welcomed the opportunity to end Crowe's obsession with him permanently. It certainly would've been one less major headache to worry about.

Crowe didn't care about having an honorable duel, however. He had the tactical advantage, and he didn't hesitate to keep pressing it.

Not that Abbas expected any better from Abolish, of course.