The sun was still a long way from rising on the longest night of all. And amidst the whole battlefield, hanging over everything, the moon watched, a silent observer above even the miasma the Suneater spewed from its maw. Its light itself felt faint tonight, but still, it was there, high in the night sky.
And then, rather suddenly, the light from the moon cast a shadow; a dark eclipse that may have heralded glimmers of fading hope for those that fought tooth and nail for the light. In the moon's pale light, the silhouette of a winged, daemonic dragon suddenly appeared, its wings beating lazily to keep altitude. It would be a familiar silhouette to some of the people raising the battle against the much, much larger dragon in the room, though.
Intense magic, born of the cosmic void of the universe, a swirling, thrumming thing, concentrated around the silhouette as it brought its massive arms forth, fists balling and muscles tightening in anticipation. The gathered energy swelled, its hue visceral purple, absorbing into the creature before it dove down toward the eater of suns... and at point blank, or as close as "point blank" would be relative to a creature the size of a continent, it unleashed a piercing, sky-splitting roar.
From both its arms and mouth erupted raw cosmic power, ancient, primordial, in a blast that could rip a country asunder. A power belonging to a Daemon Emperor that could split soil, rock, steel, bone, and anything in its path into atoms. Though the Tyrant's transformed state was still dwarfed by this truly ancient beast, the true unleashing of his legendary might, further bolstered by the magical essence he had absorbed from his foes, would still prove to be quite something.
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And then, rather suddenly, the light from the moon cast a shadow; a dark eclipse that may have heralded glimmers of fading hope for those that fought tooth and nail for the light. In the moon's pale light, the silhouette of a winged, daemonic dragon suddenly appeared, its wings beating lazily to keep altitude. It would be a familiar silhouette to some of the people raising the battle against the much, much larger dragon in the room, though.
Intense magic, born of the cosmic void of the universe, a swirling, thrumming thing, concentrated around the silhouette as it brought its massive arms forth, fists balling and muscles tightening in anticipation. The gathered energy swelled, its hue visceral purple, absorbing into the creature before it dove down toward the eater of suns... and at point blank, or as close as "point blank" would be relative to a creature the size of a continent, it unleashed a piercing, sky-splitting roar.
From both its arms and mouth erupted raw cosmic power, ancient, primordial, in a blast that could rip a country asunder. A power belonging to a Daemon Emperor that could split soil, rock, steel, bone, and anything in its path into atoms. Though the Tyrant's transformed state was still dwarfed by this truly ancient beast, the true unleashing of his legendary might, further bolstered by the magical essence he had absorbed from his foes, would still prove to be quite something.