"Nyarlathotep, you..."
Before Schiller could start cursing, he saw green light begin to flicker across the surface of the blood, which had originally been red. Blue and green intertwined and merged, becoming like the last glimmer of ocean light vanishing into the Deep Sea.
Terrifying whispers echoed through the cramped space. Schiller heard a faint scraping sound by his ear, like the soft rustle of damp, slick skin passing through aquatic plants, making wave after wave of dizziness and nausea wash over him.
The book before him split apart. Its pages dissolved into water, and an entire lake unfolded as something enormous gradually rose from its depths.
Enduring the splitting pain in his head, Schiller recalled the name he had heard amid those whispers—Cthulhu's knight, "Autumn."
Tentacles stretched out from the lake. A massive head wrapped in countless tentacles on either side rose from the water's surface. Its gray-green skin was covered in pore-like protrusions. At its center was a huge golden eye that spun without ceasing, while beneath it, its vertically split mouth was packed with layer upon layer of tiny tentacles and teeth.
This was no cultist at all. Schiller realized that this was Cthulhu's knight, the Great Old One Autumn!
"Uh-oh." The Beyonder's voice rang out beside Schiller's ear. "Didn't all of you come out of that room? How did you still manage to summon it?"
The violent headache and dizziness left Schiller unable to speak. No human could face any Great Old One directly, and the Old Ones' Mark was of negligible use.
Fortunately, the first round began soon enough, and Schiller was finally able to pull himself free from those sensations.
He let out a long breath, suppressing the urge to unleash a stream of curses at Nyarlathotep, and asked the Beyonder, "Autumn is the