"Wake..."
Within the folds of darkness the creature stirred. The rift between the corporeal and ethereal realms shifted as from deep within the depths of Ahriman's Castle, a pulse began to beat.
"It is time....Wake..."
It burned through the beings form, the blood stirring and pushing life throughout the twisted shapes and black skin. Consciousness began to overtake the unending slumber as the beckoning's became stronger.
"Come back to us..."
It whispered in his ears, in his mind, and in his soul. The icy call of something from beyond the rifts. Past the boundaries that separated the mortal realm to that of the world of the gods, the voice pressed into his being, forcing its will unto him. Like a spark of hellfire the ruby orbs of his eyes began to swirl. The vortex of flames blinked once, and the body shifted.
"Incubus Knight... Tactician...."
Black haunches tightened in reflex, the muscles tested themselves and forced its way from atrophy. Each painful sting, each joint sore from the ages he slept, it was all a reminder. A reminder of pain, of death and of life.
"Who are you....."
The black figure began to rise, raising up its wings unfolded and spread the full length. The entire beings form was black, like staring at midnight wrapped over a monster. The maw opened to release a slow growl as the back arched and arms stretched. As each piece of armor was placed onto its form the fire in his veins pulsed harder, begging sleeping adrenaline to ignite. The instinct of a killer, a warrior, a knight. An iron grip wrapped around the hilt of the Broadsword of Unholy Nightmares and pulled it free of its resting place.
"WHO ARE YOU!"
It broke free of the creature's form. Like a rush of power that flowed through his body the voice broke free from him. A warcry and testament that shook the foundations of the Castle itself and announced his awakening. The Tactician of the Shade was back.
"AARRMMAANNOOOOOOOOON!"