The Beauty Of Destruction (1)

Their forms, swathed in ebony hues, flickering with an otherworldly radiance.

Cloaked in nebulous veils that billowed with spectral whispers, they exuded an aura of mystique and menace.

Eyes, brimming with secrets untold, glinting like fractured shards of the crimson moon, reflecting the enigmatic depths of void and darkness. Each death soldier wielded a weapon, a macabre extension of their ethereal essence, honed to cleave through the fabric of reality itself.

Silence hung in the air, pregnant with the impending clash between the two unsightly entities, a monstrous ferocity of ants in their numbers covering the landscape like a plague, and the army of darkness cladded in the cold embrace of darkness in its whole.