Strands of absurd, otherworldly light pierced the sky. Eerie, innocent, ethereal singing echoed through every corner of the Planet. Whether the people of Blue Star covered their ears or turned their speakers up to full volume, they could not shut out the Old Ones’ Nursery Rhymes ringing in their ears and deep within their hearts.
Countless shadows, countless strains of madness, countless writhing currents of chaos gathered around the enormous face over the Pacific Ocean, forming black clouds that spread in every direction.
All across Blue Star, the scene was one of Cthulhu Doomsday.
Ordinarily, any Planet subjected to corruption on this scale would long since have become part of Cthulhu's Space-Time. Every living thing on it would perish. Only the Old Ones' servants and Believers in the Cthulhu Evil Gods could survive.
But Blue Star was different.
It was the Heaven designated by the Fallen God. Though it soon lost his favor and was cast aside by that Omnipotence, it remained the pinnacle of the World of Light. The Illuminati, spread across countless reaches of Space-Time, instinctively converged there to resist the Evil Gods' power.
Blue Star was also where the eyes of many Pantheons' gods converged. Those gods had left behind means of resisting Disaster.
Those measures might have been utterly powerless against Azathoth himself. But against the scattered shockwaves of the Cthulhu Evil Gods corrupting Space-Time, or the fragments of Disaster spilling from the clash between the Three Pillar Gods, Azathoth, and the Fallen God, they could still hold.
Yet those measures could only do so much. If things continued unchecked, the power and concepts of the Old Ones would eventually corrupt the Planet completely. It would become part of their Space-Time, then sink into the ultimate Space-Time and become food for Azathoth.
"...Lord, make disciples