LIMINALITY by Moony1 | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Chapter 61

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The entire dreamlands shook violently as a bell ringing across the very realm itself became known in its entirety. Thunderstorms roared across the darkened green skies and grew throughout the realm, engulfing the lands themselves while people and beasts alike screamed in horror at the end that was coming.

Twelve o'clock has finally reached its mark, doomsday is here, and global catastrophe is impending. The Kalpa cycle is finally occurring as the great darkness raised from its slumber, awakened by the toll of the bell, and starts being aligned correctly for his time to start the new cycle.

Within the Dreamlands, Cthulhu, The Harbinger, the Dark Sleeper, the Great Dreamer, and a hundred more aliases emerged in their true form within the vast, deep oceans as his visible, skull-like octopus head emerged out of the waters and then its body.

Its body is a grotesque amalgamation of tentacles, limbs, and appendages that writhe and twist in unnatural ways, resembling a twisted mockery of what life is. His skin is a sickening shade of green, oozing with slime and grime, and his eyes are a bottomless pit of pure malice.

As Cthluth rises, the ocean begins to violently churn and ripple, sending massive waves crashing against the shorelines. His beak-like mouth opens wide, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, and a terrible shriek echoes across the world at large.

Standing over 800 feet, he slowly looked up to the once beautiful night sky, replaced with a dense green cloud and the moon illuminating a sickly green hue that covered the entire world itself. He knew this was the time for him to commence his duty, usher in the destruction of the old so a new world could be born, and repeat the cycle once more.

Every slow step he takes would be equivalent to a month worth of earthquakes across the Dreamlands as the waters violently splash all across the surroundings, engulfing the nearest islands and nearby ships caught unaware.

No matter how many days and years it will take for him to destroy everything, the immense terror of an inevitable fate is now arriving, and Cthulhu was pleased to witness everyone crying in despair at the doom and gloom of his arrival.

Even if his physical body dies, the prophecy will continue until it is completed, regardless of how logical or illogical it is. All things must comply with the unbreakable cycle of the inevitable so the universe can start again and repeat once more.

Reality warped and distorted itself in terrific ways; the mere presence around him causes anyone in hundreds of kilometers to shift into eldritch, monstrous, and alien versions of themselves, transforming all organic life forms and their environment to abnormal changes that defy physics, logic, nature, and the fundamental laws of the world.

All living organisms were transformed, and the ground beneath his feet was left withered and desolate. Trees were twisted and contorted beyond recognition, some growing extra branches or sprouting tentacles, their trunks twisting together to form writhing, pulsating masses of wood and bark.

Buildings crumbled and fell to the ground, their walls cracking and melting like wax. Mountains shifted and rose from the ground, their peaks rising high above the clouds, casting long shadows across the landscape. Valleys sank into the earth, leaving behind gaping chasms and canyons. Rivers and lakes boiled and dried up, leaving behind empty husks.

People, beasts, monsters, and animals alike, transformed as well, their bodies twisting and mutating into a horrific amalgamation of multiple forms and biology that shouldn't belong nor make any sense. Their screams echoed across the land, adding more suffering and dread of their incoming fateful demise.

Those who are considered too alien or incomprehensible alike are still affected by his dangerous presence; susceptible to transformations as well, albeit less drastic compared to mundane life forms, they too are screaming and wailing alongside their doomed counterparts.

Nothing was safe; no one is free from this inescapable doom coming their way. It doesn't matter how long they try to hide, flee, or beg; he will find them in the end and ensure their death is horrible so they can suffer for eternity until this world finally perishes.

Within distance, he sees the burning and chaotic city of a once flourishing and prospering civilization; the citizens scream in agony, desperation, and horror at their impending doom, helpless to Cthluth's arrival. Buildings collapse, fires rage, streets are littered with the dead, and other abominations were affected by his reality-warping presence.

Many who foolishly glanced at his large, imposing form immediately tore their eyes violently, laughing hysterically and frothing at the mouth before randomly killing each other or themselves while the blood pooled around their lifeless corpses. Others are driven insane and desperately run toward their untimely doom, throwing themselves into the ocean or climbing on top of towering buildings before leaping into their own deaths.

Some continue to smash their heads on nearby objects, screaming delirious phrases and ravings incomprehensively. Children and infants cry uncontrollably before dying instantly, while their parents stare blankly into the distance, their expressions filled with pure despair and unending misery.

Few died swiftly from heart attacks; mercy compared to the unimaginable horrors and the terrifying images before them. Others have their flesh melt agonizingly off their bones, revealing the cracked and bloody muscle and sinews beneath.

Just the sight alone made him feel delighted at being awakened again. It has been a long time since the stars themselves called him to enact these atrocities. However, just like previous times, his awakening won't last forever, for his main body is sealed in a in a deep underwater tomb within the waking world.

Still, Cthluth didn't feel disappointed; it was an honor to be sent forth in this realm for the sole task of fulfilling the will of the prophesied end of this world. And by that alone, he can't help but delight in the suffering of others so willingly and mercilessly.

Despite how amoral and cold he is, this is one of his only forms of amusement that makes him worth something. For this is his very purpose: to cause anguish, madness, fear, and misfortunes towards anyone he meets.

Cthluth will continue his march and spread his reality-warping presence throughout the wide area, ensuring that he will succeed in his mission and fulfill the will of the prophecy. By spreading an endless cycle of torture and despair, he will bring these pathetic creatures and their realm to their final judgment and watch with satisfaction.

But part of him still pities them; their lesser minds are unable to comprehend the greater truth he can offer, yet the suffering they are experiencing is only a mere glimpse of what the Cosmos has to offer. And he feels sorry for everyone who was unlucky enough to be bound by their pitiful existences.

Their suffering is his blessing, their madness is his gift, and their torments are his salvation. Only in that the only way to bring them enlightenment is through his cruelty. For that is the cycle of the universe, the endless and absolute truth.

For death is the end of all things, and none can escape it, not even the gods themselves. And those who seek to prolong their fleeting existence will only be condemned to madness and ruin. Only in that way will his apathy bring them enlightenment.

In the far reaches of the Dreamlands, Nyarlathotep's presence surrounded the realm, looking upon the panicking denizens of the place as his laughter echoed throughout the Dreamland's skies. "Oh poor, poor fools, you cannot run, you cannot hide," whispersa whisper that spreads across the land, taking glee in this sight.

The Crawling Chaos was having the time of his life, watching everything unfold before his eyes: "the smell of men being broken by a million tiny, horrific fates, the delicious scent of women and children falling victim to terrors beyond mortal comprehension, the nostalgia...oh, the smells truly tickle my olfactory nerves! Oh, the sights I behold fill my sight cavities. The screams, oh, the exquisite sound waves entering my receptors!"

"This is the greatest high imaginable!" Nyarlathotep basked in the madness all around: "The fragrance of misery and death fills the air! Such a marvelous spectacle! Such a beautiful tragedy," closed his thousands-faceted eyes and relished the moment, inhaling deeply.

"its intoxicating!"

His many appendages twitched in anticipation, eager to join the madness and terror below. "Such beauty! Such fragrances! This is bliss. I love humanity. Oh, how much I love everyone!" Twisted, reverberating laughter echoes throughout the Dreamlands: "My, the joy never seizes to amuse me."

He was eager, too excited to see this. He wants to join, but he knows this isn't worth the hassle. It's entertaining for him just to see everything unfold. "Ah..." The Crawling Chaos let out a satisfied sigh: "Everything is finally coming together."

Someone is ready to stop this and end this apocalypse that is coming. And Nyarlathotep already knows who it is. "I wonder," he said, smiling maliciously. He turned his attention to Janus, who was floating within the dense clouds, focusing on the dying world around him.

"How long will you last?"

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