Specter stared into the mirror.

He wasn’t sure why. He always came back to the shattered mirror in the back of the warehouse. It wasn’t calming to him, nor did it comfort him for the task ahead. Quite the opposite: it reminded him of the screams of the heretics as his hammer crushed the life from their bodies, the gazes of pure terror as the crusader of myth brought down their doors and defenses to bring justice for their crimes.

It was time like this that he questioned whether or not he was truly a hero. If he was the herald of a new age, or simply the destroyer of an old one.

He drew closer to the mirror. He was tall, eight feet at least, with jet black skin. Spikes erupted from his six huge bat-like ears, and from his two whiplike tails. A long fan of jagged bone feathers created a thick tail drifting down the back of his legs, which tapered down to a set of talons on each foot.

He looked straight ahead at the mirror and looked himself in the eyes. He had four eyes, each glowing the same warm red he had once worn as the last Predorai Knight.

Suddenly reminded of where he had come from and where he was going, he reached forward with his second set of arms, shoving the broken mirror to the side, exposing a wooden box beneath it. Baring his long claws, he slashed the lid open and reached inside, his fingers gripping cold metal. He lifted the object up and out of the container, sleek black metal reflecting the dim yellow light of the warehouse, with accents of shimmering white steel shining in the soft glow.

Specter finally knew what he had to do. For the first time in a century, he had a plan.

He turned the helmet around, staring into the empty sockets he had stared into in a previous life, lifting it up and over his head. Inside, the visor lights flickered on, giving him a clear view outside the helmet.

Bright blue light shimmered through the warehouse as he changed his form, shifting back through the years, becoming once again the being of wrath who had brought justice to thousands of heretics, and whose hammer had cast low the greatest champions of a race of warriors.

Satisfied, he gently placed the mirror back up, gazing back into his reflection. Gone were the monstrous spikes, gone were the extra arms and eyes, the massive ears and tails. Instead, he saw gray and red, black and shining gems of pale blue, staring back at him through the eyes of his old helmet as a feather of pure light projected back from the top of the helmet as if welcoming its old master back.

“Now, I am complete.” He whispered to himself. “Now, I am Ekorak once again.”

Just a multi-purpose little test of my writing skills. Also serves as the first (aaaand probably only) literature teaser for my upcoming MOC.

It’s nothing special. But it should give some context to why this next MOC has taken so long to finish, and why getting it right is so important to me.

I’ll be seeing you for the final product very shortly.