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He looked back toward the stupid lackeys that he'd brought. They weren't just a bunch of good-for-nothings. Well, okay, yes, they were. But on this occasion, it wasn't entirely their fault, at least. The Sparrow had gotten to them.

And he knew from Grigozo's own experiences that a Sparrow was capable of so much more.

He needed to neutralize that threat right now. In all likelihood, the Sparrow was trying to remain hidden despite involving itself in the battle, so it probably didn't yet realize that he knew it was here. Clearly, it didn't know that he could detect it by smell, else it would have undoubtedly blocked his mind from registering that little bit of information.

That was how their psychic powers worked. Direct mental manipulation to prevent all forms of detection.

Utter bastards.

He inhaled deeply through his giant, reptilian nostrils, searching for a direction. Yes. To his left. Far below. Somewhere among those annoying metal towers with their blinding glare from the late afternoon sun.

He moved in closer, avoiding more metal assaults with ease, letting them phase through his smokey form as he kept sniffing the air.

Ah. The bird was moving, wasn't it? Trying to keep its distance from him now. Did it think he was onto it? No, probably not. His sense of smell hadn't been blocked. If it realized, the bird would be able to disappear entirely.

Unless, that was, he resorted to an entirely different sense. One born of Chaos. One that was too dangerous to use all the time, because it came with the unfortunate effect of empowering the damned souls clawing at him from within.

Lozaro called this sense "mementori." It was, in short, the ability to detect auras--and with greater levels of aptitude, to decipher the memories hidden therein.