Oystercatcher Tide Pools A man with intent on his face

That was all it took. A blur of darkness shot across the lessened space between them as Cry seemed to release his corporeality and morph into a true Phantom. The only visage to break the blur was the pearlescent gleam of his ivories that sought the titanic demon’s napeside closest to his own. He would force this mountain to bow, to bend under his rage that had been clearly bottled entirely way too long.