"Of course there's a difference."
For the first time, a trace of bitterness entered Nyarlathotep's voice, even affecting Kregya beside him, who had always been at odds with him.
A jade-like maiden shaped from chaotic shadows and a voluptuous woman of flame both revealed faint, bitter smiles.
"Lord Mysterious Lord, you haven't tried leaving since you arrived in our world, have you?"
The Mysterious Lord froze for a moment.
"I really haven't! Why? Could it be..."
An unpleasant thought arose in the Mysterious Lord's mind, a possibility he was not quite certain of.
This time, however, he had made no effort to conceal his expression, so his thoughts were easily guessed.
"Yes, exactly. Our world allows entry, but no exit! Once we're transformed into Great Old Ones and branded as belonging to Azathoth..."
"We're trapped in this barren world, unable to explore the vaster universe outside!"
Nyarlathotep directly confirmed the thought the Mysterious Lord had not yet had time to voice.
"Since this entire world was formed from Azathoth's body and mind, both its laws and its matter are possessions belonging to him."
"That means we have no chance of escaping him or breaking free. Over all these years, through countless hundreds of millions of days and nights, we've wanted to try reaching the outside world!"
Yog-Sothoth took up the explanation.
"But because we became Great Old Ones, we have no right to leave this world."
"We're nothing more than food reserves, fleas kept on his body, cattle and sheep. When he wakes, he'll wipe us out and absorb all our nourishment!"
Yiga continued.
"Then, immediately afterward, he'll build more worlds upon our corpses, using our former appearances to create this world again! His pasture, in other words!"
The Mysterious Lord stood rooted to the spot, dumb as a wooden