The cracks in the Center were growing larger as I-330 continued her chant. She let the words flow out, instinct telling her what to say next. More timelines were becoming cracked, but she needed only one, one specific universe….

She felt something enter the room, and turned around just in time to duck under the Archangel’s swinging arm. The Archangel reached for her with its other arm, but I-330 caught the hand with her shadow arm. Cracks spread from where their hands met, and a violent wind began to blow around them.

I-330 could feel the Archangel pressing on her, pushing her back. With gritted teeth she continued chanting. The Archangel kept pushing, driving I-330 down. Her knees began to buckle, And she fell onto a knee. But she kept chanting, glaring into the empty eyes of the Archangel’s gas mask as she spat out every word. Then the last line of the ritual:

“Hei… Aa-shanta… ’nygh! Motherfucker!”

That final word had been her own addition, but it still had the desired effect. The Archangel was suddenly thrown back. And the cracks of emptiness exploded outward, consuming the entirety of the Center in moments.

***

The last pieces of reality around R’lyeh fell away, leaving the island adrift within the Quiet. But the city was not alone. Something else floated through the empty realms: a great, writhing being of darkness. Grendel identified it with one word:

“Father….”

The blackness turned towards R’lyeh, and surrounded Grendel. It lifted him into the air, and then began to enter into his body. Grendel’s shape began to change, while the city shook underneath him.

A white light filled the city, and when it had passed, both Grendel and the blackness were gone. In their place was a man with olive skin, and red eyes highlighted by a thick black border around them. He wore a robe of constantly shifting colors from his waist down, but his chest was bare, revealing a physique worthy of statues. And crowned atop his head was a golden pschent, which glowed from a light within itself.

The old Pharaoh Nyarlathotep stretched his new limbs, clearly enjoying the new form. He rolled his head, and by chance his eyes fell on I-330. By his expression, he had completely forgotten about her presence until that point. “Ah yes.” His voice was stronger than thunder, each word slamming into place with authority. “The traitorous child.” His brow furrowed in confusion. “I believe I was planning to… rape you now? How very… hormonal of me. This human seems to have affected my personality more than I had expected. But that impulse has passed now.”

He turned his back to I-330, but continued speaking. “Normally I would consume you so that I may be fully whole, but it seems your future self was instrumental to my return. Remove yourself however you feel best. I will return for you once your purpose has been finished.” His lips turned up into a smirk. “It’s time for me to reclaim what is my right. The Fears shall fall before me. And with the rest of the gods dead, all that remains to challenge me is Yggdrasil. Once it is defeated, I shall take my rightful place….”

He continued to talk, but I-330 wasn’t listening. The pain had drowned out every word he’d said to her. But beneath that pain was rage, roaring and rising like fire. She was nearly blinded by the blood covering her face, but she could still feel a presence in time similar to Grendel’s. And more than anything else, even beyond the wish to escape the pain, was the desire to destroy that presence.

She had reached the limits of her human body long ago, and had been relying on the trickle of strength from her inhuman ancestry. But she needed more than a trickle now. She dug deeper, clawing at the walls that had kept her humanity safe from what was inside, until suddenly the dam burst, and that trickle turned into a flood. And for the first time, the bright blue color of her eye faded, and was replaced with burning red.

Nyarlathotep stopped speaking mid-monologue. Something was wrong. The presence of the girl had vanished, and instead he felt… himself? But that was impossible. He turned back to look, too late. As soon as he saw I-330, she plunged her sword through his chest.

His face was one of disbelief as he looked down at the sword. “But… that’s not….” He looked back up to I-330, and the god felt true terror as she opened her mouth, revealing razor sharp teeth. “You can’t! I created you-”

His words were silenced as her teeth tore into his throat.