Outside, the crowd reveled in all manner of festivities, still absorbed in the battle between Pasta and the Mysterious Lord at the very limit of the Middle Great Old One realm.
They drank the heavenly nectar flowing from wine bottles in the sky as large as the moon.
The Lower Great Old Ones were enjoying a moment of excitement unlike anything they had experienced in hundreds of millions of years!
Then, as that barrier the big shots had specially erected to prevent them from eavesdropping came down...
In truth, the eavesdropping was merely their own assumption.
Even if the aim had been to keep these fellows from learning about the conspiracy, there would have been no need to cut off such a vast stretch of space and time.
Nor would there have been any need to completely purge the World Rules from a region of space!
Wasn't that giving these small fry far too much credit? Even the strongest among them only had power equivalent to the middle stage of a Middle Great Old One-and that was their power, not their actual realm.
If they merely wanted to guard against Great Old Ones of such mediocre strength, wouldn't that have been easy?
Whether it was Yog-Sothoth, Nyarlathotep, or Shub-Niggurath, any one of those three powerful Upper Great Old Ones could have acted on a whim.
Forget preventing these fellows from eavesdropping.
Killing them outright so they could never eavesdrop again would have been effortless!
Everyone who attended the meeting knew whom they were guarding against!
It was simply that those outside never dared imagine that the target of their conspiracy was the legendary Creator, the chief of the Demon Gods, Lord Azathoth!
And almost every Great Old One possessed an inexplicable confidence in themselves, so it was actually quite normal