The second Itachi took a step forward his eyes flashed, blue and lamp-like. In the blink of an eye, leaving several after-images as he moved, he stopped in front of the doors, a good ten or fifteen paces from Itachi.

He must protect the target area he was assigned to. Must. Without fail. No holds barred. Even if he was ripped into a thousand data pieces, he would guard his territory. He reached behind him and drew two dagger-like blades.

His arms snapped into an x--formation in front of his body, one blade in each hand. Suddenly, there was a metallic grating noise and a tiny after-ring, almost like the blade of a guillotine singing after it had fallen. The singular blades now had brothers—-each blade now resembled a wicked-looking claw, designed to tear into its enemy without mercy with each of its three blades.

He tilted his head back, the bottom half of his face now visible, and he flashed a crazed, sharp-toothed grin at his victim, as though daring him to come any closer. A deranged, wheezy laugh escaped his still lips and he waited. Waited to see if the target came.

Aggressors must be persuaded--that part of his programming was clear.