A seemingly teenage male with dark red hair and a piercing yellow gaze made his way through the streets. Ashter squinted with distaste at the robotic beings trying to pass off as human. He wasn't fooled by their demeanor, nor was he fooled by their distinct lack of a proper human soul. Ashter was an agent from the underworld, but he was not sent here for the sake of dark underhanded things. He was on here with the intention of stopping the conflict. At first the manticore in disguise hated the idea of playing servant to humans, even if it was in the name of the dark lord himself.
But the longer Ashter watched how the authorities handled the situation the more he learned to dislike them. Ashter would go to the ends of the earth and back to assist his fellow kin. How could humans do anything less? He slunk in the shadow of a police car trying not to attract attention. He could feel the distressed beacon of souls in agony. Of souls in danger off in what the city officials referred to as the 'infected zone'. In this area, the strife of others seemed apply pressure to the sides of Ashter's skull in small waves.
"Sad that the citizens of this city depend on the work of a hell-spawn to protect them rather then those they've elected to do the same." Ashter said to himself as he transformed into his true form; a manticore. He stood with a form of a lion in deep red. He had the wings of a dragon, the horns of a dragon and a tail with razor sharp spines that could penetrate the thickest of steel.
"There's some irony to be had there." The manticore grinned with grim amusement. His razor sharp fangs gleamed. Ashter manipulated the shadow in order to get out of the sight of the officer before spreading his wings for flight.
Ashter leaped into the air with his pitch black wings spread. His white pupil-less gaze was in search of souls that required his assistance. Whether it be to preserve their life... or to guide them to the underworld.