Deep within the Warp, the ritual site that had been forcibly torn open and briefly isolated by the immense power of the One Who Is All, after the hasty departure of the four Chaos Gods and their followers, was once again shrouded in deathly silence and the ever-thickening aura of the Abyss.
Only that pitch-black rift remained, like an ugly scar on the body of the universe that could never heal. It stubbornly persisted there, silently "breathing" and exuding an aura of madness and despair.
Darth Vader's ritual had been like chipping a tiny hole into an impregnable wall.
Yog-Sothoth's arrival and departure, and the vast power it unconsciously radiated, had not actively widened the rift. Yet it seemed to have given certain beings lurking deep within the Abyss a clear signpost, completely exposing that small opening to their senses while making the spatial structure around the rift even more fragile and unstable.
Crack... crack...
An incredibly faint cracking sound suddenly rose from the edge of the rift, enough to make the scalps of all who sensed it go numb.
The once relatively stable edges of the rift began to split like a riverbed dried up for ten thousand years. Fine black patterns, as though alive, spread through the Warp in every direction!
Then, a huge tentacle, slick and pallid, covered in countless suckers and indescribably bizarre markings, its precise shape impossible to describe by ordinary logic, suddenly struggled out through the widening gap!
Like some blind and ravenous worm, it twisted and writhed experimentally amid the Warp's currents of energy. Wherever it passed, even the violent Chaos energy was swiftly stained a cold, lifeless grayish white, as if all vitality and color had been drained away, returning it to utter nothingness.
A second, a third... more equally revolting tentacles