Dead End 2: Deathly Di-Di-Doo Ch.19 (Patreon)

[Dreaming Real]

— Sean Caine —

“Dad.” Alice deadpanned.

“Hm? Yes, Darling Daughter?” I asked, smirking.

“Really? Just… really?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Alice. Use your words.”

“Argh!”

Jason picked up the questioning when Alice threw up her hands. “Your first… ‘use’ of the cosmos… was opening a gate directly to Yog-Sothoth?!”

“Yes. No. It’s a bit more complicated than that.” I shrugged. “Yoggy was the Gate and he — if you can put gender to any of those beings — was the Key, too. He was the Keeper there, the Guardian, but he was also the Path that all who dared walked through him.”

“(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*·｡ﾟ” Cass nodded and made a motion of miming magic. ‘Hm, hm… Yes, it makes perfect sense, and anyone who can’t see it is an idiot! POOF~! … I’m an idiot, apparently.’

I laughed. “Don’t take it too hard. We’re all idiots in some way or another. Except Didi. She’s perfect, of course.”

“I don’t know; I’ve had my fair share of idiot moments, too,” Didi teased. “I’d like to say they’re completely behind me — as most would like to say — but really, ‘idiot’ mistakes are an integral part of living. After all, even the Presence has abdicated from his Creation and put all its running on his son. I’d bet Michael would consider that an ‘idiot’ mistake, and I’m certain Luci would.”

“It’s all part of His plan, I’m sure,” Gabriel sighed. “But yes, that doesn’t mean that His plans can’t be idiotic at times.”

To that idea, I simply said, “Dying for the ship.”

Gabriel sighed… and then pouted. “Mou~… That idiocy is still preferable to willingly abdicating and lumping all the work onto poor Michael!”

“Truly, we are made in His image, idiocy and all,” Voivode said reverently, bowing his head in prayer. His Abaddons followed.

For all that they now followed Death, they hadn’t completely given up their Christian roots, as unorthodox as those had been for the Order. The Court was similar in that regard — following Didi first and foremost, but still giving some respect to Barbatos. I chuckled to myself, observing it all. Alice certainly had her work cut out for her.

“HEY, HEY~!” Lacoste cut in. “For the uninitiated and all, could we get some context, man?”

Eustace nodded. “It shames me to admit, but I am similarly lost. This ‘Yoggy’ — Yog… Sothoth…? — Seems rather important to those cosmos, yet I do not quite understand what it is, nor do I understand the importance of contacting it, nor the weight of it ‘knowing you not’.”

“( ˘▽˘)っ◥█̆̈◤” Cass joined in as well. ‘Context hat. I require context. Me. Context. Yes-yes!’

I moved to oblige them with the requested context before being interrupted by a curiously Heartfelt tear in space. It appeared on the table we were all sitting around, and from its swirling depths, a familiar head emerged like a gopher.

“Hi~!” Delirium exclaimed. “I heard Madness and Sanity and Idiocy!”

Happily, I ceded the floor to the Endless expert. “Delirium, by all means.”

“Auntie Del!” Alice exclaimed. “Are you staying? We could really use your help with tonight’s story-! Or, wait… maybe we couldn’t…?”

“Yes and no…” Delirium mourned, her mood delirious as ever. “I would just make things finicky, all tricky… Besides, I’m busy decorating the White Gate with signs — ALL THE SIGNS~! I can only spare a moment.”

“A moment is more than enough,” Didi reassured, turning to Jason. “Del is the one you should really be thanking for keeping out the horrors.”

“Just Blind, Dumb, Dreaming Azzy~!” Delirium proclaimed. “It’s the only one that matters once you reach the Void Between and beyond! And there, it’s only one of infinite many things and places and nightmares and idiots!”

She giggled airily, “Silly Azzy is all that’s really real; everything else in that cosmos is just the product of its dreams.”

“That… seems like pretty game-changing information,” Elaine commented.

“You’d think so, but it’s really not,” I replied. “Azathoth first and only as the dreaming center of its own cosmos doesn’t make everything within those dreams any less real. At its level, capable of existing in the Void Between, those dreams are an entire reality. It thrashing in its sleep was what dragged me into those cosmos, remember? And I lived a whole life there that counted towards my Reincarnations like any other.”

“Then… Azathoth shouldn’t even be considered an Outer God, should it?” Jason asked. “It’s… something from the Void Between, and only its closed eyes are what Lovecraft considered an Outer God.”

“(。··。)” Cass stared expectantly. ‘Cool. So… the rest of us still need context on the stuff that isn’t really real but is really real and all.’

Delirium swayed in her odd little gopher hole for a moment before snapping back to attention. “Right! Azzy dreams of the cosmos! In those cosmos, there are beings nearly but never quite at his level: the Outer Gods! Yog-Sothoth! Shub-Niggurath! Nyarlathotep! Tru’nembra! And more! They’re the biggest, the baddest, the baffling-est!”

“The Outer Gods claimed power over the cosmos beyond all others — aside from Azathoth, of course,” I elaborated. “Shub-Shub, for example, was the All-Mother, Lustful Life in all its Terrible, Twisted, Tremendous Forms.”

“(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)” Cass found a way to thirst over just that description. ‘Mmmm~… Eldritch MILF, Waifu of the Cosmos…’

“Yoggy was All Knowledge Across All Time, a Force of Sheer Information. Eldritch and unknowable, but not of a terribly malicious nature; he’s misinterpreted constantly — comes with the unknowable bit — but honestly about as chill as the Outer Gods got.”

“(-◎ω◎-)━━━━ﾝ!!!!” ’Cool Nerd God!’

“And Nyarlathotep… was a cunt.” I finished.

“From the stories, you’re not wrong,” Jason sighed. “20 bucks says Sean said it to his face.”

Alice laughed, the noise only slightly strained. “Sucker’s bet!”

“Then!” Delirium continued. “There are the cosmic small fries: Great Old Ones and Elder Gods! Still great and mighty and unknowable and all, but kinda just gods. Cthulhu, Nodens, Hastur, Bast, and honestly, way too many more.

“Oh, and there are powerful dreamers, and alien races, and humans, and a whole lot of magicks, advanced technologies, and other fun stuff in between! But I’m sure Sean will tell you all about those! Have fun! Don’t forget to smile in the face of their supposed madness; it’s really just more overwhelmingly alien than truly Mad anyway. Bye-bye now~!”

Delirium finished with a wave, ducking back into her Heartfelt hole with such force that it left the room abuzz with excitement and curiosity. I considered it a nice little assist as I turned the course back to my story.

“Now, with context, making ‘use’ of Yoggy as my first move means something, doesn’t it? I’d come to bargain…”

IIIII

— Violet —

“Let’s make a deal, Yoggy. An exchange: you, of course, have information I desire, and I have information you don’t hold,” The Young Master said.

Violet clung to his back as he spoke, grounding herself in the calm beat of his heart and the speaking swell and simmer of his chest. She could not bear to look at the BEING that he called ‘Yoggy’ so casually. Even averting her eyes and closing her ears, whispers of the near past and far future brushed physically against her skin.

The Young Master was brave and special and solid, indeed, to deal so equally with the God beyond any god, the Font beyond any font, the Knowledge beyond any knowledge.

The GATE shook with something that could never be mistaken for laughter. “INFORMATION I DO NOT HOLD? THE CONCEPT IS FOREIGN, BUT THEN, SO ARE YOU…”

Waves of terrible wisdom, nothing Violet had asked to bear, crashed down with its voice. They parted around the Young Master as if he were the prow of a ship and she were safe within its hold.

“As you said, you know me not,” The Young Master replied. “So, for my end of our deal, I’m offering you the chance for something… novel. You’ve taught so many and shown so much; wouldn’t you like to learn for a change?”

With his offer, everything the BEING was intensified. It lasted a moment, a fleeting eternity. Years here and there, space long ago and long to come: the BEING’s focus barreled forth from the Gate at full gallop. Violet could not even scream, for the present itself was stolen from her to orbit that terrible star of attention so wholly, earnestly, genuinely given.

The Young Master did not need to recoil as every ounce of Violet’s being did, but he still leaned back against her. It was a reminder. Desperately, Violet leaned on him.

The weight of the BEING’s focus disappeared like smoke. For just a blink, Violet lived through unknown final moments, a peaceful and contented death. She passed so naturally — the floating, that familiar floating from the ‘before’ — and then she let loose the first lively wails of a healthy babe.

She blinked. The present returned to her, ripped back from the star’s orbit with the Young Master’s solid, selfless, selfish, Sane hand in hers.

“Tch.” The Young Master clicked his tongue in disapproval, and much to Violet’s awe, the BEING heeded it.

“… APOLOGIES. THIS… LEARNING… I SEE THAT IT IS NOT NECESSARILY MINE TO TAKE.”

“A lesson in humility first, then. That one’s free,” The Young Master quipped. “The rest will cost you.”

For just a moment, an unnaturally long one, the Gate stared at the Young Master. Then, the BEING’s voice emerged from it, utterly flat.

“THAT WAS HUMOROUS. I FOUND THAT HUMOROUS.”

Befuddled, Violet dared to glance past the Young Master. The Gate swirled. The Gate was utterly still. There was no physical sign of the BEING she knew lurked beyond and within the threshold, no vision of its terrible majesty.

Perhaps, if she didn’t know better personally, she could’ve mistaken the flat-toned words for the comment of a mere man…

“NOW, SHALL WE DEAL IN TRUTHS AND… LEARNING?”

Then, it spoke again, urging the Young Master towards his dealing with it in hushed promises of worldly excellence and wisdom unbound and terrible, trembling enlightenment — the kind of victory that most all would consider anything but. Yet the Young Master met that promise of victory with full face, so Sane and sure of Self.

“My proposal is rather simple,” The Young Master said. “You may peek into the unknown I bring to you; I’ll show you real Creations that even you cannot dream of — only tossing and turning Azathoth. In return, I ask for… perspective and perception.

“The cosmos granted me a sliver of it. I intend to grasp more, but on my terms. If you agree, Yoggy, you’ll bless my eyes so they may always see true — eldritch eyes akin to yours, eldritch eyes that not even your peers can deceive. Withstanding those truths will be my responsibility. I’m confident enough that I can manage.”

“NO ULTIMATE MYSTERY?” The BEING asked, battering as a man at market might. “I CAN SHOW YOU TRUTH FIRST AND LAST; I CAN OFFER APOTHEOSIS ON A PLATTER.”

“No Ultimate Mystery,” The Young Master confirmed. “I know that trap. It may serve you well, Yoggy, but I’m just a man. A rather unique man, with rather unique advantages of my own that you and your peers can’t begin to touch, but just a man.”

“Knowing ALL, all at once…” The Young Master chuckled with a sort of smirking amusement, a confidence that left Violet breathless in her alien flesh. “Well, it would rather ruin the fun. I like being just a man, Yoggy.”

“HOW ODD. I TRULY KNOW YOU NOT. HOW INTRIGUING. I MAY TRULY… LEARN FROM YOU.” The BEING murmured this way and that, balancing upon its own decision.

Suddenly, it changed, seizing such decisive balance that the whole world rocked upon an axis of the BEING’s defining design. The voice came in massive waves along infinite lines, awful frequencies with periods that could only be measured in the lives of stars.

“YOU ARE INSIGNIFICANT.” It thundered, TRUTH that struck Violet to her core.

She gasped and wept and raged at the indignity of life to a BEING of such scale. Even her alien flesh and her reborn circumstances were nothing. Dust with drive, that was all any of them could ever be-…

“I know.”

The Young Master cut off her crisis and pulled it up at the roots. He was calm and confident, even now — so Sane and sure of Self. He acknowledged his insignificance, and he acknowledged how insignificant that insignificance was when all that one lived was… all that one lived, regardless.

Dust still drifted through the cosmos, Violet realized. Dust still danced amongst the stars. It was insignificant, yes, but then, even dust was real.

“… A LESSON IN HUMILITY FIRST, THEN. THAT ONE IS FREE.” The BEING said, throwing the Young Master’s earlier quip back at him. “THE REST WILL… COST YOU.”

The Young Master laughed in earnest. “That was humorous, Yoggy! Well done! And don’t worry; I’m well aware. I can pay the price. The eyes, first, and then, Yoggy, Violet? Why don’t the two of you settle in for a little storytime?”

“It was a long and horrible night, a loop in which the moonlit city of Yharnam was eternally caught…” He began.

Violet and the BEING listened intently to his tale from beyond. For an odd and jarring time, she and it shared curiosity in common. It was awesome, in the most biblical sense of the word, and abominable, in just the same.

How strange, how strange it was to share something so mundane with such a BEING…

IIIII

— Sean Caine —

“( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ” Cass grinned and pointed. ‘Okay, so Yoggy’s just based. That’s my kinda eldritch being, one that can take a joke!’

Eustace nodded. “I was not expecting an Outer God to be so reasonable. Almost personable, even.”

“When you are All Cosmic Knowledge, that does include how to interact with mortals,” I said. “Not to say that Yoggy wasn’t eldritchly overwhelming in every extreme, of course. He was still too much for even the minds of Great Old Ones and Elder Gods to bear, but if you could stand to talk to him, he actually made for great conversation.”

“Huh,” Jason muttered. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Yog-… Yoggy essentially is Information in those cosmos. And that’s not all unbearable truths about the nature of reality, is it? That’s… everything, including the ‘insignificant’ rules and customs and even the joking culture of human society.”

“An infinitesimally small part of it would always be human, because humans were an infinitesimally small part of that cosmos and all the information within,” Elaine noted.

“Just so,” Didi nodded. “Aspected beings only half exist in a vacuum. We define our concepts, yes, but our concepts also influence us, at the very least.”

“Is that why you care, O’ Death? Is that why you have given your daughter and prophet such commandments to preach to those who wish to follow and respect you?” Sonya asked.

Didi smirked slightly. “Did I? Little one, did I give you any such rules to pass down?”

Alice groaned. “Ugh, they just came out, okay?! Like, I know you, Mom, and I know the kinds of things you love and hate. I just… kinda told them that.”

“That doesn’t make them any less worthwhile,” Didi reassured both Alice and her followers. “I may not have directly defined those rules to Alice, but I do approve of them.”

“And that’s not why she cares,” Alice grumbled, correcting Sonya’s other question. “Mom cares because she personally knows every single soul in Creation, even if they don’t know her. She doesn’t do it for herself — policing that ‘influence’ or whatever — she does it because she’s genuinely just a friend to all in the end.”

“And in the beginning, at Conception — though souls tend to be much less aware then. The perks of omnipresence; I can afford to multitask Endlessly,” Didi chortled.

“Even I could not count how many souls I’m watching over and ushering into life or keeping company and walking to their eternities at just this moment. I care because I meet every one of them at Conception, and because I’m the last to say goodbye to every one of them at Death. I care because… well, I care. It’s only right.”

“DAMN~…” Lacoste murmured. “Yeah, I don’t think I could ever have any doubts about the Concord after that.”

“Death is a friend, the truest our souls may ever know,” Voivode intoned, bowing his head with the air of a sermon; I wouldn’t be surprised if he went on to preach just that line to all who would listen.

Elaine playfully nudged Alice with her elbow. “Good luck getting them to calm down and chill out now.”

“This is fine.” Alice strained a smile, biting out words between clenched teeth. “This. Is. Fine.”

“(˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)” Cass teased her. ‘I’m sure you can handle it. My doubts about your lil’ cult have been assuaged, anyway. Hey, I might even join! Wouldn’t that be… fun~?’

“It’s a Concord, and I will ban you from it so freaking fast-!” Alice snapped back.

“It might be useful to have some eyes on the inside,” Jason considered. “And I am already a true believer…”

Alice stopped herself short after snapping at Cass, turning to look anywhere but at Jason. “… You can join, though. Hell, I can even make you a bishop or whatever, since you’ve already died and come back and all.”

Jason barked a laugh. “Ha! Okay, let’s not get too hasty, there-!”

“Nope, it’s decided,” Alice smugly — finally — turned to him. “You get to help me control this mess.”

“If I must…”

“You must.”

“Is that an order from Death’s Prophet?”

“Maybe it is!”

As the pair of them went back and forth, flirting like mad, Gabriel leaned over to me and barely suppressed her excited squeal.

“They’re adorable…! Please tell me you already gave him your approval…! That ship simply must sail…!”

I shook my head, chuckling. “Like Father, like daughter. But I have, don’t worry. All we can do now is be patient and watch them dance around each other in the meantime. It’s entertaining, isn’t it?”

“Oh, God… Oh, Father,” Gabriel realized. “Oh, now I know how He felt watching us, Caine…!”

“It’s almost reasonable to want to die for them. Shipping is truly a powerful motivating force.” I nodded in agreement.

“( ؕؔʘ̥̥̥̥ ه ؔؕʘ̥̥̥̥ )?” Cass asked, interrupting us and the flirting pair. ‘Hey, Sean? What story did you end up telling Yoggy for payment, anyway?’

I gave her an acknowledging wave that drew the attention of everyone else as well. “I told him about my long, terrible night in Yharnam, of course; it was simply the best fit, familiar but still novel. He learned of gods, mortals, the blood and dreams of both, and most importantly, eyes on the inside: an enlightenment of Self triumphing over Scale that even he knew not.

“All of it was valuable to him, but that last lesson was priceless. It was the perspective that set me apart in those cosmos. For Yoggy, just the hint of it he gleaned from my story pulled something together across all of time and space — a through-line of HIM, of Yoggy.

“Yoggy was all information in those cosmos. He had no sense of Self, only Scale. But with new information introduced to him, he suddenly had the chance to learn, to grow, to Change…”

“Did he… take it…?” Sonya asked in breathless awe.

I smirked. “Only Yoggy himself could tell you that. But the fact that I’m referring to him as I am might give you a hint…”

“Hm. Good for him,” Gabriel hummed and gave a genuine smile, even as she wished an Outer God well. “Oh, how did Violet react?”

“She took a liking to a certain Pale Doll in that Hunter’s Dream, and even began modeling herself after my recounting of that faithful Doll,” I replied.

“Mm-mm,” Gabriel nodded as if she understood before cheerfully chiming. “I don’t know what that means, but I’m happy for her, too!”

“Remind me to tell you that story in full some time,” I chuckled. “It was an interesting, if never pleasant, life.”

“Where next, Sean?” Didi asked. “With Violet at your side and eyes that saw true? How deep did you peer into those cosmos?”

“Deep, indeed!” I grinned.

“After my dealing with Yoggy was done, and after he’d held up his end of the bargain, I took Violet through the Gate. We ventured forth into the Dreamlands beyond: a realm that was at once both astral and physical, made of the stuff of minds and souls and nothing so simple as common law or accepted physics. No, the Dreamlands were a realm of fantastical and fractal figmentation, a patchwork of every mind in the cosmos from the mightiest to the lowest.”

Breathlessly, Sonya hung on my every word. “Yet they were real?”

“Realer than real,” I confirmed. “Ask yourself this: within a dream of reality, what power would dream hold?”

“Oh, much, surely!” Sonya exclaimed. “It would be the highest of magicks!”

“A wonderland situation?” Eustace asked, seeking clarification.

“It was another dimension of that cosmos, holistically, with dreaming life within and consequences carried without,” I corrected. “The Dreamlands were set just slightly sideways of the waking world. At certain points, there was even overlap. Alice’s Wonderland could almost certainly be found in the Dreamlands, if one knew how to walk the paths she did.”

“ಥ‿ಥ” Cass glanced at Alice. ‘You’ve been holding out on us?!’

Alice just rolled her eyes. “Idiot. I’m not… Well, I don’t think I’m that Alice. I haven’t visited some Wonderland.”

“Oh, but you could, if you put your mind to it. The Dreamlands are very real, even here,” Didi said. “My brother’s Dreaming is, as Sean said, set just slightly sideways of the waking world. He is thought and imagination, malleable unreality defined by the absence of reality.

“If you’re looking to see a Wonderland of your own, little one, I can ask him to lend a guiding hand. He’s prickly, but even he wouldn’t deny my daughter.”

“It’s not the same Dreamlands, though, right?” Jason asked. “Just the same kind of… dreaming realm?”

I chuckled. “Delirium still guards the White Gate; don’t worry. Azathoth’s dream of reality is powerful, but contained — a roiling chaos turned blindly inward. You could delve deeper into the Dreaming than any but Dream himself and only find recreations and references to the Dreamlands of that cosmos.”

“Then, maybe…?” Alice said, hesitant but curious.

“VISION QUEST~?!” Lacoste exclaimed. “I’ll get the DMT!”

“If we have a direct line to Dream, I don’t think we’ll need the drugs,” Elaine pointed out, amused.

“WELL, WE CAN’T GREET HIM WITHOUT GIFTS, CAN WE~?!” Lacoste laughed.

“A pilgrimage for another time, perhaps,” Eustace said, righting the conversational course. “You and Violet delved into the Dreamlands, Mr. Caine?”

I smirked. “I intended to use it as something of a shortcut, but I’m sure you all know how difficult it can be to walk straight in a dream.”

“Of course, you did,” Gabriel giggled. “That’s quite like you, Caine. Didn’t the Fae ban you from using their wylds for the same thing in our life?”

“They certainly tried,” I drawled. “Thankfully, in those cosmos, I had explicit approval to come and go through Yoggy’s Gate as I pleased — a bonus to my amicable dealing with him.”

“Yog-Sothoth is kinda infamously ’the Gate and the Key’,” Jason said. “Or at least, that’s what I remember one particular culty chant for him saying. You’d know better than I would, Sean — thankfully. Is there any truth to it?”

I nodded. “Some. But of course, no mortal understanding could ever fully grasp Yoggy. With the eldritch eyes he’d given me, I saw that he was the Gate, Key, and Guardian, yes, but also that he was time itself and every curious soul that dared to dream, think, or otherwise know…”

“It’s complicated, like most things ‘Outer God’ are.” I shrugged. “And for now, largely irrelevant. Yoggy and I parted on good terms; I was content to leave it at that. The rest of the cosmos awaited, and was itching to see what I could see across it.”

“That first trip into the Dreamlands, Violet and I boasted the unique circumstances of entering it whole rather than just in mind and soul. To most, that would be an unthinkably dangerous prospect. But then, Violet wore the flesh of a Shoggoth, and I was Sane and sound of mind. We managed.

“The Dreamlands were as varied as the many minds of the cosmos could conceive. There were entire races that lived within, and entire civilizations that could rise and fall in a single night. Some of the Dreamlands’ people were human, their ancestors caught in sleep and learning to live without waking. Other races were foreign and fantastical — dreams given life and, vice versa, life visited upon dreams.

“There were grand cities across the Dreamlands, founded and formed whole by powerful dreamers. With enough skill and travel, they could make themselves minor gods of the mind.

“Celephaïs, for example, was the domain of a man who took the name Kuranes, called the greatest dreamer by some. In the Dreamlands, he was one such minor god; in the waking world, he was a homeless man in London who’d forgotten his name in favor of the dream.”

“꒰ღ˘‿˘ற꒱❤⃛” Cass nodded matter-of-factly. ‘Based. When I wake, I too am a homeless man in London.’

“Cass? What does that even mean…?!” Jason asked, his voice strained.

“꒰ღ˘‿˘ற꒱❤⃛” Cass just nodded again. ‘Hm-hm, yes. Based. Based.’

Chuckling, I continued. “There were many gods of the Dreamlands throughout its malleable history; there, time was not so constant. But there were just as many monsters — nightmares in the dreams. Most were, in fact, thinking, dreaming creatures, with whole societies of their kind. To the mind of a human, though — even a dreaming one — they were still terribly alien.

“Violet and I entered the Dreamlands at a center where various dreaming races collided: the port of Dylath-Leen. Ships sailed to and from it across a void-sea. There was a certain cultural practice in the port. All who entered would conceal themselves beneath dark robes so they could trade without prejudice. The trade itself was usually telling, though.

“If they made their homes within the port, they were usually human. If they came hawking forest dream-wines, they were Zoogs. If they sought meat of all and any kind, they were Ghouls. And if they sailed into port on mysterious black galleys and bartered exotic rubies from unknown shores for every slave they could find, what they were, no one knew.”

“You should, Caine. You had eyes that saw true, didn’t you?” Gabriel pointed out.

“I did. I still do.” I nodded. “In those black galleys, I saw… the nightmarish flesh-things that dwelt on the dark side of the moon in the Dreamlands. Moon-Beasts, with no other title or name, only slaving and slavering malice.

“They used almost-humans as a front when dealing with the rest of the Dreamlands — men who were just slightly off — and they worshipped the pinnacle of that astral realm that was not Yog-Sothoth: the Crawling Chaos, Nyarlathotep.

“Violet and I had an encounter with them and their slaves in Dylath-Leen, and we would have many more with the thing they worshipped…”

“Uh-oh…” Alice muttered with dread in her voice. “He’s, like, the opposite of good.”

I laughed and repeated myself, proclaiming it loudly for all to hear. “Nyarlathotep was a cunt!”

“( )シ” Cass bowed her head in praise. ‘Hear, hear! Fuck that dude, whatever he is!’

I grew more serious a moment later. “But a cunt with terrible power, especially in the Dreamlands. See, Yoggy was the Dreamlands — all Ideas and Information and whatnot — but Nyarlathotep was the most active of the Outer Gods within those dreams of a sideways world. He was the herald and chief actor of Azathoth, or so he proclaimed, so he was known…

“He knew about my presence from the start, and hounded out trek through the Dreamlands. He came to us in a series of guises, never giving away his true form or nature. But with the eyes Yoggy had granted me, I still saw through his crawling chaos…”

“Can we assume he was an enemy, then?” Eustace asked.

“God-things like that accept only worship and ultimate submission. And we already know our prophet’s father had none to give. He has said it so, and I believe him,” Voivode stated.

“Yeah, that does sound about right for Sean,” Elaine chuckled.

“Do you know what he was after? Why did he ‘hound’ you? As far as I’ve heard, you didn’t do anything to gain his attention.” Gabriel asked, frowning.

“With Outer Gods? Only Azathoth could say,” I answered with a wave. “They were all figments of his dream, after all. Still, whatever his true motivations, they were hardly benevolent.

“He was an enemy to everything and everyone that didn’t conform to his word. He spoke for Azathoth — that blind, deaf, and dumb source of the cosmos — and only Yoggy could’ve disputed that claim. Unlike most other Outer Gods, Yoggy included, Nyarlathotep interfered on the ‘scale of dust’ frequently — both waking and dreaming.

“The minor gods of the dream were under his protection, in the same way an innocent neighborhood might be under mafia ‘protection’. He took his tax in terrible worship, and while his name was never spoken in the Dreamlands, all knew it. The mind, the Self, was the only place safe from him, and even then, it was not inviolable. If Nyarlathotep saw a crack, you can be sure he’d slip the infinite tendrils of his crawling chaos within it.”

“Ugh, what an awfully active… god-thing,” Elaine shuddered.

Jason nodded in agreement. “Living under that boot… Or whatever it was that crawled… You’d never know peace.”

Didi shook her head disapprovingly. “I imagine he was simply bored, no matter what other motivations he might’ve claimed. Nyarlathotep was Azathoth’s herald, but it isn’t like Azathoth is an active ruler.”

I shrugged. “Boredom is likely accurate, as mundane a motivation as it is for an Outer God. Honestly, as I saw it then and as I still see it now… he was kinda just a petty, meaningless cunt.

“He put himself in my path through the Dreamlands. I pegged him for who and what he was immediately, but Violet didn’t. He aimed to get at me through her.”

“What a cun-…” Alice grumbled, cutting herself off with a quick glance at Didi. “I mean-!”

“No, I’ll excuse the language this time, little one.” Didi chortled. “That’s a majorly cuntish move.”

“Did it work?” Sonya asked; the matronly mistress of blood was on the edge of her seat. “Did sweet Violet fall to the crawling chaos? Or did she lean on you, as you offered, and-?!”

Chuckling, I stopped her short to continue. “Violet did just fine. She might not have been as well-traveled or clear-sighted as me, but she was loyal, inspired, and yes, willing to lean…”

IIIII

— Violet —

Their journey through the dreaming lands began in a port city at once awful and awesome. Geometric pillars of black basalt rose like the highest towers of London. Homes and shops and more varied interior spaces were carved within.

Violet saw robed figures of all shapes and sizes around the port and its markets. Even in what should’ve been a dream — Violet had listened to the Young Master’s wisdom well, and he’d shared it freely, telling her about the lands they would cut through — life was almost mundane. If one could somehow excuse those various shapes and sizes, of course.

Despite the unseeming mundanity, Violet kept her wits. The Young Master would lead, now with eyes that saw true, and she would follow.

She was looking at him with new eyes of her own now, after the story he’d shared with her and the BEING. The Young Master had lived through a night’s dream so much more nightmarish than the one they now walked.

Yharnam… The mere thought of the Young Master’s nightmare, the city of his hunting dream, sent unnatural shivers through her shifting flesh. He’d readily admitted that he’d died there more times than he could count, all leading up to aberrant ascension — a nascent Great One dreaming itself into existence through the Young Master.

The BEING had… liked that ending. Violet had not.

She’d liked something else in his story, though — A Pale Doll, eternally faithful as she found animating purpose in serving the Young Master, despite her artificial creation.

If she could, Violet knew the Doll would’ve followed the Young Master beyond, but since she couldn’t, Violet vowed to step up in her place.

“Where are we destined, Young Master?” Violet asked as they left the perplexing port.

The Young Master led them over land along the river that ended at the port, deeper into the dream. “Hm, Arkham, I think. I can almost see it from here.”

“And what do you see?”

“A college town, with curiosity baked into its foundation, for better, and much more often, for worse. Those curious minds on the Miskatonic…? I find myself curious as well. Mysteries and secrets grow from every crack — weeds of knowledge. The locals know the legends; the learned men investigate in spite of the warnings.”

“Then… your intentions, Young Master?”

“A thesis and treatise of sorts. Perhaps I’ll found a whole new field of learning. There’s potential there. Physics may explain the ‘what’ of the universe, but humanity’s base of knowledge is sorely lacking a ‘why’.”

“How can I help?”

There, the Young Master chuckled fondly. “Your company is more than enough, Violet.”

Violet fell silent and thoughtful. Perhaps for the Young Master it was, but she wished to do more for the man she was leaning on.

It was as she considered how to do so that they came across a weary traveller on the dreaming road. He carried a stout walking stick and covered himself head to toe in worn rags. The traveller approached Violet.

“Spare a sip, girl? I am thirsty. I doubt I’ll make it to Dylath-Leen without aid.”

Violet thought it an odd request, asking for provisions on a dreaming road, and turned to the Young Master for guidance. He stared at the covered traveller; immediately, she knew something was amiss.

“You walk beside a river, traveller,” Violet pointed out.

“Bah, to drink from the Skai?!” He scoffed. “You would have me kill myself!”

“I said nothing of the sort,” Violet calmly replied.

“Then lend me aid!” The Traveller exclaimed, growing incensed. “Your arm, even! I would drink of your blood, so thirsty I am!”

Violet recoiled from the insistent request. “Madness! What a foul-!”

She shook her head vigorously. “You do not seek aid. I know not what you plot, but I will have no part in it.”

The TRAVELLER cackled. “No part, no part, she says! All play a part… All except your master, and now, you who follow him…”

To Violet’s eyes, he began to seem less and more than a man. Echoes of greater things shook the ground, the very dream all around. The guise was cast off; hideous might was revealed with each fallen rag.

He was terribly regal and terrifically ugly. Tall, he stood; wrong, he stood. Obsidian skin devoured the light of the dream. Burning eyes glared at her; they glared at the Young Master with malice that rivaled the previous BEING’s curiosity.

“Crawling Cunt,” The Young Master greeted the TRAVELLER’s malice with a curse.

“Oh, insult! How quaint!” The Crawling Cunt laughed. “Bold, from one who does not belong. Wicked, from one who resists and refuses the cosmos and still tries to raise himself high regardless. Truly, do you think you will be allowed to-…?”

Violet wished to do more for the Young Master, to stand by his side as an equal and aide. She saw a chance and took it.

“… Speak less.”

The Crawling Fucker stopped in its tracks with an unnatural stillness, just as chaotic as its prior motions had been. Crushing focus swung onto her with the weight of worshipped aeons.

Violet did not crumble.

In a past life, the Doll had served and advocated for the Young Master all throughout his nightmare. In this one, Violet took the Doll’s purpose as her own, fortifying her sense of Self with the wisdom and perspective the Young Master had shared.

“Allow?” She continued scornfully, leaning on the Young Master’s Self at her back. “What allowance could you give?

“You yourself said he plays no part; you yourself said he does not belong. Yet ‘allowed’ or not, here he is. It seems to me that you would grant him nothing, regardless, so why even talk? Do you simply like the sound of your voice?”

“He must, herald that he claims to be,” The Young Master quipped.

Violet glared; Violet stood strong by her master’s side. “Yet he says nothing of worth…”

“Well, there is nothing of worth to say,” The Young Master continued, picking up the confrontation. “Isn’t that so, Crawling Cunt?

“The thing you’re supposed to speak for is blind, deaf, dumb, and dreaming — it’s no ‘sultan’, just a source. You cling to it, clawing yourself as close to the center of the cosmos as you can, but it doesn’t give you purpose or direction. You might be ungodly powerful, on a scale that none can comprehend, but really, you’re just as without meaning as the rest of the cosmos, just as… insignificant… aren’t you?”

“It’s all just a dream, Nyarlathotep, ya Crawling Cunt!” The Young Master proclaimed, throwing his arms wide to emphasize his point; Violet leaned back into the empty space they left for strength and comfort.

“Cling to the center of it all you’d like; no amount of Scale will suddenly grant you meaning! If you want purpose, you have to find it, grasp it, make it for yourself!”

“I know that’s what I’ll be doing in this life. Yoggy’s already taken a step towards figuring it out, too.” The Young Master finished with a pointed reveal and a knowing question.

“Now ask your Self this, if you even know the concept: can you?”