A veritable God of Pure Fire springs into action, covering everything from the nearest clone to the monster's chest in white-hot flame. The clones are dead, charred so badly that even Forensics would be hard pressed to get any information from the remains.  The monster has a few instants where it almost looks de-rezzed but it then seems to recover, although not as quickly as before.<br/><br/><strong>Ah, an aperitif. If you weren't trying to kill me with it, I'd be quite grateful. </strong>The monster leans forward, mouth opening far too wide, and begins to absorb great amounts of light from the astral plane, but none of the spirit's light. The residual fires on the clones do wink out, though.<br/><br/><strong> It seems that I shall have to work more. </strong>That is how it prefaces suddenly growing an arm.