Krono's massive body strained against the dark tendrils that had coiled around him. The tendrils grip tightening like a noose woven from pure corruption.
The sky trembled with each of his movements, golden light clashing against the oily blackness, but every time he tried to break free the tendrils only multiplied into smaller parts.
They slithered over his wings and throat, pulsing and draining, feeding, then growing stronger from his struggle.
His mind began to cloud. The brilliance gold in his eyes dimmed. His focus slipped as waves of distortion seeped into his thoughts.
His power began to stagger around him.
Zerathul's presence crawled deeper into his consciousness. It was not just a simple whisper of anger like before. He was now whispering in a dozen voices at once with the cold satisfaction of domination.
"Krono… the great Time Dragon. The keeper of ages. Tell me, how does it feel to lose control of your own domain by me now?"
