I-330 didn’t look away from the black gate. The monotone voice spoke once more. “We will not warn you again, Nyarlathotep. Step away from the gate.”

I-330 turned around, and saw EAT and the Archangel. The body EAT was possessing seemed to be having difficulty staying together: water leaked out of its mouth, and its skin seemed just a push away from sliding off. The Archangel, on the other hand, appeared entirely unaffected.

“Shouldn’t you two be busy fighting Grendel or something?” I-330 said.

“You currently represent a greater threat to the continued existence of the multiverse.” EAT said. “We will let your younger self resolve the minor issue of Grendel’s revolution.”

“So it’s a fight you’re looking for?”

“We would prefer to avoid violence. This location is fragile; conflict would risk irreparable collateral damage.”

“Then how the hell do you plan to stop me?”

“An appeal to morality.”

“…. You’re joking, right?”

“You must be aware, at least on an unconscious level, of the destruction which you are about to enact. You plan to tear apart the heart of creation, leaving cracks that will spread across the multiverse. The ritual on its own will destroy two universes, and countless more will be consumed by the after effects.”

“The universe can go straight to hell! I’m going to save Lisa, no matter what I have to do!”

“The life of a single human does not compare to the billions others you intend to sacrifice.”

“It does to me!” Tears started to slowly run down from her eye. “I’m not giving up after I’ve come this far! I’m not going to lose her!”

“You will destroy everything just for the sake of a fleeting selfish passion!” The sudden emotion in EAT’s voice caught I-330 off guard. Even the Archangel glanced for a moment at EAT, although it was impossible to tell if it was surprised under the gas mask. EAT took a moment to collect itself, and then spoke again with its usual lack of tone. “All the power of a god, combined with the foolishness of a homo sapien. And all of this in order to complete an impossible goal.”

“I don’t care how small the chances are.”

“No. You misunderstand. It is not that your chances of rescuing Lisa from the universe she has been trapped in are slim. There is no chance at all. Think, for a moment. Your existence relies on you attempting, and then failing, to save her. If you do not open up the cracks in her universe, she would have never fallen into the Quiet. She would have never been used as a template for Nyarlathotep to create I-330. You cannot save Lisa from her fate, because if you do then there will be no you to save her.”

“I don’t care. I have to try.”

“This stubbornness in the face of genocide is unusual, even for one as impulse driven as you. I wonder, how much of your actions are driven by I-330’s affection for the human Lisa? And how much are driven by Nyarlathotep’s instinct for self-preservation? Is it really love pushin you on, or is it the need to maintain a stable time loop to ensure your existence?”

“Shut up!” Her eye glowed with red fire, and her words shook the Center.

“… I see.” The Archangel stepped forward threateningly, the screams of a thousand souls reflected in the glass eyes of its mask. EAT continued to speak as the Archangel advanced on I-330 “Dialogue will be useless with you. In which case, I must deliver this ultimatum: Surrender or we will destroy you. Even considering the strength you have regained, you are still nowhere near the strength you held as an Outer God. You cannot defeat both the Archangel and I.”

“Who said I was the one you would be fighting?”

I-330’s shadow arm morphed into tentacles, which she pressed against the gate. She began to speak words that no human mouth should have been able to pronounce, in a voice not her own. The green glow on the gate changed to red, and the gate opened. EAT shouted “No!” but I-330 had already run through the opening. The two Fears tried to pursue, but a gust of wind from the gate stopped them. The piping sound that had been present in the Center from I-330’s arrival started to grow louder, and more pipes began to join in, until a chaotic symphony of screeching pipes blared from beyond the gate. The Demon God Azathoth was waking up.

EAT’s human shell fell apart into a puddle of water, and the Archangel lost control of its form. It shifted between hundreds of appearances: sometimes a skeleton in a robe, or a crowned mummy, or a man with blue skin and many arms. The piping music grew louder, filling every space of the Center.

The puddle of EAT’s water started to rise up in a tendril, resisting the pressure of Azathoth’s music. At the same time, the Archangel steadily regained control of its form, taking on the appearance of a man in a black robe with a gas mask made of bone. As the music grew closer, the two Fears, Evolution and the Afterlife, stood at the gate and prepared for battle.

***

For the Earth only a few hours had passed since monsters had suddenly appeared and begun to destroy civilization. For I-330, it had been much longer. She had been warping to every battlefield across the planet, and fighting whatever threats she found at each location. After each was killed, she would travel in time back to the start of the invasion, and warp someplace else, constantly trying to stop the beasts before it was too late to save everyone. But she was fighting a losing battle, and weariness was taking its toll. She refused to think about the impossibility of her still fighting for so long without rest and with so many wounds, as if the mere thought would cause her to collapse from exhaustion.

In Singapore, a massive yellow creature crushed entire buildings under its fat arms. The Intrusion swarmed around its feet, like a black mass trying to crawl up it. I-330 warped around it, leaving dozens of cuts in its skin. The beast roared in pain, and then changed shape. It shrunk, and took on a humanoid form, covered in yellow robes, its face obscured by a mask of old parchment, and a brilliant golden crown on its head. The Intrusion took his as an opportunity to attack, swarming from all sides. A dry breath croaked from beneath the man’s mask, and the insects approaching him seemed to go mad, spinning in wild directions and viciously attacking each other.

The man raised a robed ram as if to continue its attack, but I-330 appeared behind him and sliced through his neck. The head rolled off and dissolved away, and the rest of the body faded soon afterward. I-330 looked around for survivors in the city, but all she saw were bodies. No matter how fast she tried to kill these things, it never seemed to be fast enough.

But there was something wrong about this “Revolution” that I-330 was starting to notice. The soldiers were on Earth, actively fighting. But where was their leader? I-330 had expected to encounter Grendel at some point, but she had not seen him once, in spite of traveling all across the planet. If he wasn't leading the charge, then where was he?

She focused her mind on the timelines around the world, trying to spot anything irregular. The number of distortions was overwhelming, making it hard to tell anything apart. But as she sorted through all the madness… there. Another distortions, just like the rest, but in a place where no distortions should have been. An empty stretch of the South Pacific Ocean, where I-330 should have felt nothing but the ocean. Instead, there was land. And on that land, a familiar presence. I-330 grabbed time, and warped to the island. Straight to the final battlefield of the Revolution.