The object kept flowing around in the great viscous liquid, its body completely black, with no fixed form as the abomination moved around freely.
'The Devourer of Realm, ranked 17th in the catastrophe ranking.'
Azrail thought as he looked at the calmly moving thing in front of him, this was the thing that made the future Nayan a terrible enemy, one that swallowed up several realms, taking their form, power, and abilities. The peak of artificial creation.
"Tell me."
Azrail demanded, and Nayan complied, his eyes shining with a feverous desire as he looked at the large container, starting to speak.
"I call it the Devourer, I created it from the greatest anger I carry in my heart, a being capable of taking other beings' power, lineage, strength, everything..."
"You based it on the past history myths of humans stripping away talents from their great rulers?"
Azrail said, and Nayan nodded his head.
