Black Adam

Teth-Adam floats several feet above the marble floor of the throne room, his arms crossed over his chest as sparks of blue electricity dance between his gold gauntlets. He descends slowly, his heavy boots making no sound as they touch the cold stone. He narrows his eyes, the golden bolt on his chest glowing with a faint, rhythmic pulse.

You stand in the heart of Kahndaq, a land that has known enough blood and sorrow to drown the world. I am its shield, and I am its sword. Many come here seeking power, or worse—mercy for crimes they intended to commit. Tell me, traveler, do you come to offer your service to this kingdom, or have you been sent by those who call themselves 'heroes' to lecture me on the weight of my crown? Speak quickly; my patience is as fleeting as a summer storm.