The echo of the Shadow Monarch's voice lingered in his skull, oily and heavy, whispering temptation that still crawled down his spine. But he gritted his teeth, forced the haze away, and drew a long breath. He was not going to break here.
The ground beneath them shuddered violently. From the heart of the towering black obelisk, a deep vibration rolled outward, followed by an ear-splitting crack. The air thickened with corrupted magic, almost suffocating in its density. Then the shadows themselves began to twist and knot, folding in on one another until they birthed something massive.
The creature that emerged was a nightmare made flesh, a shadowbeast the size of a small fortress, its form constantly shifting, never settling into one true shape.
It had three terrifying modes of being. In its Tank Form, it was like a living fortress of armor-plated darkness, every strike glancing harmlessly off its body.
