The threads of darkness continued to gather. They tighten and fold into themselves with deliberate precision. What had once been nothing but scattered fragments of will now began to take shape, not as full beings, but as hollow vessels wrapped in the purpose made by the Void Architect.
Each one of them formed from compressed strands of void essence. Thin layers of existence woven together enough to function without drawing too much attention.
They did not resemble living creatures. Their bodies were faint and unstable at the edges like silhouettes made from absence itself.
Where features should have been, there were only smooth and indistinct surfaces that keep shifted slightly as if refusing to settle into a permanent identity.
Yet within each of them there was a core that pulsed like a center where the Void Architect's will anchored them into being.
He did not rush the process.
