When the floor got ripped up nearby, Vincent instinctively threw up some flames to hopefully ward off the impending sand blast. Then he saw him at the epicenter, the one controlling it. Another Rogue Conduit, but something bothered Vincent. The Conduit had no attack pattern, a Bio-Terrorist like him would have set targets, thicker populated exhibits, concession stands. Something, but he had no focus, then it hit him like a freight train, this was the Syndicate's plan! They were gonna use their most hated enemy to bring about its own demise. He chuckled, they would be fun to fight one on one, but he shook his head, this slob of a fighter would have to do. So he willed every ounce of heat he could draw into his body, letting it fuel him, letting the energy make him feel alive, his heart raced like mad as he did this. The heat was like adrenaline, making his heart pound, making his mind focus on the Conduit. Soon the flames crawled along his limbs, crackling away at the specks of sand that danced near him, creating grains of glass that would most likely turn to a pile of glass soon, but he didn't care. He wanted a damned fight and this idiot was gonna provide one, and it'd better be worth his time. He brought the flames into his palms and got ready to pelt the shithead with enough fire to raze half a city block to dust and bones. He kept heating himself up, raring for the fight, all he wanted was the eye contact. Then this would hit the fan and this shit would get fucking heated to the best party of the fucking century!