It would be hard to describe the Cyclopean buildings that covered the island as a city. It had been built for alien creatures, and followed their strange geometries. Angles twisted in ways they shouldn’t, and the building were constructed without any regard to the basics of Euclidean architecture. In this city, Grendel sat in an open plaza, starting at the sky as if waiting for something.

I-330 appeared in the plaza, and wasted no time in drawing her sword and attacking. Grendel’s sword appeared in his hand, and he parried without any pause of surprise.

“I see you’ve been entertaining yourself with my friends.” He said. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever stop by.”

I-330 stepped away from Grendel, but kept her sword ready. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out there leading your revolution?”

“The revolution will fulfill its purpose well enough without my assistance. I must prepare for Father’s return.” Grendel gestured to the city around him. “Here in the old city of R’lyeh, he shall once more enter this world!  With the Fears occupied battling my forces, they will be unable to stop the walls of reality that imprison him from crumbling, and his reign from beginning anew!”

I-330 glanced around her. “Tearing down the walls of reality? I could buy something like that back in the Dreamlands, when you had all those glowing evil circles and orbs mojo, but all you’ve got here is a moldy city and some stupid sword. I’m just not seeing the threat there.”

He chuckled to himself. “Ah, but my Dear, I’m not the one who will be doing anything. You’re going to be doing it for me.”

***

Beyond the gate, I-330 stood in the deepest part of the Center. In front of her was a singularity in spacetime, a tiny point where timelines flowed from. I-330 carefully set down the five orbs she had gathered around it, and then began to chant. Red lines formed between the orbs, creating a star. And a tiny crack appeared on the timelines.