Khan's sharp canines had been itching for a while, and the bite finally revealed why.
The Great Old One belonged to a species of ancient horrors that had the shape of gargantuan snakes. The former didn't exactly have venomous fangs, but it was also the runt of the litter.
Nothing said that other, bigger, and mightier members of that species couldn't have a more specific use for their fangs. That obviously applied to Khan, too, now, especially since everything about him had transcended.
Of course, Khan didn't deal with poison or venom, but had something equally deadly, which his simple bite instantly manifested into existence.
Three red fissures had split the giant, fuming head, and two more of those ran down from it, stretching through the rest of that titanic body. Those attacks had hurt the God deeply, but nothing could have prepared him for what followed.
