"Ynyr," Prince Colwyn said to the old man on the horse beside him as they both rode cautiously through the woodland, ever alert for patrols of Slayers. "Forgive my prying, but I have heard it said that you have been to the stars many years ago, and saw many wondrous things. Is this true?"

Hearing this, Ynyr gave a slight smile. "Yes," he replied, "I did voyage far beyond this little world of Krull long, long ago. And I did see many wondrous and beautiful things...but Krull has - or rather did have - great beauty of its' own, and I found I yearned for it. But when I finally returned home...it was gone." A look of deep sadness and regret passed over his face then, and Colwyn found himself praying he would win Lyssa back from the Beast who had taken her, and imagining the torment she must be going through in the Black Fortress.

"Just who is the Beast?" Colwyn asked. "Where does he come from? All we on Krull really know is what he has done to other planets, from what we've heard from survivors who've visited us. And what about the Slayers? In your travels, did you ever find any answers?"

"I have discovered many things," said Ynyr, "but the true origin of the Beast...that is a mystery even to the greatest minds of our galaxy. All that is known for certain is that he has terrorised worlds for over millennia. As for the Slayers, it has been said that the Beast found them as primitive, savage creatures living on a dying planet, where they preyed on whatever they could find...including, at times, each other. Intrigued by their vicious nature, he subjugated them, placed them in new forms of his creation, and armed them with powerful weapons, chief among with are their plasma staffs, of which you have sufficient experience. Their intelligence is minimal, but they are devastating when faced in full force."

"The...things that erupt from their bodies when struck," said Colwyn. "They are...?"

Ynyr nodded grimly. "The Slayers' true form, a most sickening form of life. It is thought that the air on most worlds is poisonous to them, so when their outer shell is critically damaged, their true forms instantly escape to burrow underground and try to prolong their miserable lives a little longer." Colwyn shuddered at this. "But it should be noted that the Beast and his underlings are not the only dangers of the outer gulfs," Ynyr continued. "For example, there is one other who commands great fear, called Galactus..."

OOOOOOOO

From inside his sanctum at the core of the Black Fortress, the Beast raged. How dare anyone have the gall to attack a world he had claimed? From across space the telepathic alert had come to him from his forces on the planet which was now being violated, and towards which his will pushed his vessel/home/self through space, faster than it had ever gone, until even he began to feel great mental strain. Long ages had passed since he last had to defend that which was his; so dreaded was his power and ferocity that few ever dared to challenge him. So assured was he of his might that he often spent centuries simply drifting silent in the void, meditating and formulating plans. His was an extremely long-lived race; he had little need for hurry. But this rare instance of insult to his power had called him forth in full speed and fury.

And yet, the Beast was in some ways almost glad this had happened. Such attacks chased away too much complacency, which bred weakness and stagnation. And then there was the one now threatening his subjects...Awesome was this one's strength, and the Beast had at times nursed interest in them both testing their powers against one another in combat.

That being now sat inside his vast transport, his might form glowing brightly with the life-energy he had just finished absorbing from the planet now reduced to a dead husk far below him. To lesser forms of life, he was Galactus, a name he had not been born with, though he cared little what insignificant gnats inhabiting this infant universe termed him. His prime concern was his hunger, and right now, it was satisfied.

His god-like senses had already told him of the Beast's approach long before the Black Fortress entered the solar system and drew near enough that it could be seen with the naked eye. Viewing it now, Galactus quietly observed how the Fortress rivalled his own craft in size, though rather than a smooth sphere, the Beast's home resembled a jagged mountain of obsidian rock hanging in space.

The Beast spoke to Galactus now, not in mere words, but in thoughts thrown across space: Galactus...You have dared much today. My planet is now lifeless, those which I ruled upon it rendered extinct. Only I have the right to extinguish life on such a scale. You will answer for your crime against my supremacy! The Beast waited for a reply from his adversary, only to be answered with scornful silence. He roared in uttermost anger at this, and his anger flowed out from him into the Fortress, which spat streaks of radiant hatred over at Galactus' sphere. Deep inside, the Slayers, ever willing to fight for the Beast, felt some apprehension over what their master's wrath may bring about this day.

What the Beast now saw, they saw too, and what was beheld now was a single point of gleaming light flying from the ship of Galactus with incredible speed, until it could clearly be seen to be a bipedal figure riding a board of glittering silver. The figure, likewise, seemed to shine all over with the same silver sheen, its' physique nearly angelic in its' majesty. From a distant planet called Zenn-La did this one originally hail, where he had lived under the name of Norrin Radd. But serving the world devourer, he was more commonly known by another title: the Silver Surfer.

The cosmic power of Galactus was the Surfer's power, and the Surfer now utilized it to evade the Beast's external defences and pierce the shell of the Fortress. Though the gaping gap swiftly sealed against the freezing vacuum, still did the Beast screech in agony, as though his own dark flesh had been ripped open. His roar still echoed through the shadowed, twisted labyrinth of the Fortress' nightmare interior as squads of Slayers bearing plasma staffs were instantly deployed to battle the Surfer, only to screech themselves as they were struck down by energy blasts from the intruder's hands.

The Surfer had nearly reached the core of the Beast's sanctum, a trail of havoc in his wake, when he suddenly halted his board, and seemed to be listening to something. "Your herald hears and obeys, master," the one once called Norrin Radd said then, and with that, turned and streaked back the way he had come, again punching a hole through the Fortress' skin as he raced back to Galactus' ship. Gargantuan against the stars, Galactus himself now hovered in the vacuum between the two collossal vessels, unbothered by the lack of oxygen and the hellish cold like all the ice ages of a hundred planets.

Still in pain, the Beast hurled weak lightning from his Fortress, but the world eater wa unfazed. Now he spoke: "I permitted my herald to give you a taste of the power I bestowed on him. And now that you have had that taste, I hereby dismiss you from my sight. Begone." A hand swept across space, a thought materialized as physical force, and the Black Fortress of the Beast was hurled light years across the galaxy, spinning crazily through the light years.

For a long time, the Beast was in severe pain. Eventually, he was able to heal, and replenish some of his strength, but the pain still lingered. He now knew that his strength alone was not enough; he needed additional power in order to fully defend himself and his property. And perhaps he knew where to get it...On a tiny world called Krull, a prophecy had been made that a woman of that planet would bear a son who would rule this galaxy. If that son was the Beast's, perhaps he could rule behind the throne, and command even more power. Mayhap Galactus would truly fear him then. The Beast calmed himself, nursed his injuries, and formed plans for the planet Krull...