Constant Devouring

The sound of lightning roaring with the fury of the heavens echoed through the innards of the pit and cavern. It was a tremendously loud sound, one of crackles and screeching screams that sounded as if a third predator of merit had descended upon this battle between aspects of nature's evolutionary might.

The Collector stood at the center of a vortex of rapidly swirling arcs of white lightning. The orb of lightning rotated as it engulfed the Collector, drilling its sizable mass into the ground. Any stone its blinding white light came into, it pulverized into dust.

Any rock that the countless stray arcs of lightning from the orb struck, they turned into molten, smoking smears.

Within the center of this sheer destructive force of elemental fury, the Collector shunted out all the excessive sensory input, the intense crackling of the whirling lightning, the feeling of searing heat crashing against its carapace, and the intense light that lit up the entire cavern.