The Beast King's massive form loomed over the battlefield like a living nightmare made of shadows and starlight.
Its eyes, those twin galaxies of black and gold, swept across the broken landscape with the casual interest of someone picking out groceries.
Except instead of choosing apples or bread, this cosmic horror was deciding which of Creed's beloved summons to murder first.
The dimensional storm around them seemed to hold its breath, as if even the chaotic energies of broken space were afraid to make too much noise in the presence of this absolute monster.
What happened next was like watching a master chess player casually destroy a bunch of kindergarteners who had just learned how to move the pieces.
The Beast King didn't even bother moving from its spot. It simply raised one massive, clawed hand and made a gesture that looked almost bored, like it was swatting away a particularly annoying fly.
