A silent suspense held the Dreaming City in a state of ceaseless paranoia. Not one soul moved without permission as all trembled in a terror that rocked every denizen within the domain, save for perhaps its sole Ruler. The kingdom shook endlessly, threatened by nonstop monstrous quakes that split apart fields of tranquility and toppled structures which had remained steadfast for eons. The sky shattered and bled, giving rise to horrible images which assaulted the mind. All while a horrific shriek proved to be the only thing that could be heard for lightyears around; transcending the limitations of space and time to reach the ears of any unfortunate enough to hear the ghastly wails. Even the space between the stars above countless night skies were found to be victims of these horrific screeches as well, turning malignant and misshapen, filled with horrors that heeded the call of one beyond them. 

The fiber of every living soul within the Kingdom of Dreams was racked with an indescribable sense of fear as they watched summoned images of the Depths try to pool forth from cracks in space, unable to reach beyond their grotesque realm and into that which was pure by comparison. Horror so profound that it defied the senses, capable of sending away even the most hardened of fighters with their tails tucked firmly between their legs.  

And for good reason.

Every sentry and warrior of the Kingdom found themselves on high alert looking over a tree that stretched beyond the clouds of this world of endless white, ready to act in name of their Domains' defense should their personal Demon find itself free to ravage their realm once more. Already, the Archfiend had wreaked havoc upon the 'epicenter of perfection', slaughtering millions before they in turn were slaughtered by the First Dreamer. Those who survived and lived across the generations after knew well the power behind the failing form of their enemy. 

Those of younger, newer ages found themselves only with legends to work off of and prayed with every fiber of their being that what they heard was only an exaggeration. Deep down though they knew what they faced was unlike anything they could defend themselves against. Though the Dreaming City was populated by heroes and warriors of great renown, they were finite compared to one one of seemingly infinite cruelty. 

Some heroes equipped themselves with weapons forged from the fires of the brightest of stars; scythes that proved capable of cutting through all forms of matter, or hammers that struck with enough force to shatter whole continents. Cannons that shot out bursts of stardust, and arrows which plunged whole world's into eternal darkness. Armaments fit to challenge and even prevail against forces normally beyond the natural order of creation. Those that stood beyond mortal kind and climbed well into the heights of divinity. 

Even those of a more mystical background found themselves paired with trinkets and baubles of similar power, allowing even the lowliest of mages the potential to embody a natural disaster. 

It was an army of legends a thousand strong, and yet none felt confident in the weaponry of their domain. With tools capable of reshaping the world around them, any one being would feel close to godliness. But their Prisoner from the Depths, the Primordial beast Cathay, accomplished similar if not greater feats through her simple existence alone. 

Kept within a tree of immaculate design, brimming with radiance and adorned in leaves of gold, her maddening influence was felt. Her prison withered and rotted away as she thrashed about repeatedly from within. Every minute of every day, the Primal Depthborn fought with more strength than any prisoner who had come before. Her wrath knew no limits, and even if the ivory tree broke down their body before repairing it again, an event repeated thousands of times in a single solar cycle, the Archfiend never wavered in her unstoppable defiance. 

Not only did she challenge the domain in its entirety by refusing to bend the knee, Cathay also knowingly insulted its Ruler by defying their call. A song that resonated with totality; there wasn't a single moment where the Bane of the Dreaming City was allowed a moment of reprieve from that horrid, melancholy melody. It was felt in each and every individual cell that composed her body, resonating with and altering the Primordial on such a level that were she to ever leave her prison, it'd be a form unlike any she's taken before.

Now, it would be a simple matter for the City's Ruler, Lubaeron, to force his hated foe into subservience. All it would take was a single, simple thought and she'd be his. A puppet to his grand scheme. The only thing that kept him at bay was pride. The lingering yet looming knowledge that were he ever to use his authority to turn Cathay into one of the Dreaming City's many guardians, she would have the last laugh. 

The Archfiend would fall knowing it was only through the power of the absolute that she could be contained. That alone staved off the First Dreamer’s plans. 

The annihilation of the Domain of the Depths. 

For all he was concerned, the Deep Wastes was a blight on the cosmos and its many boundless realities. They were parasites, invaders, lamprey that knew only destruction. More so than the Destroyers of the Void, and far less organized, the Depthborn relished in chaos without reason. They held no purpose. 

As such, they had no right to exist. They inspired only fear, and totality would never know peace while such beasts remained. The greatest threat to that plan, however, was the Depths' own Ruler. A powerful warrior in their own right, Zathas ruled their kingdom with a strong, overbearing yet… calm fist. They were pragmatic in a domain that was by all means only ever problematic. Lubaeron needed a method to avoid the Deep Lord's ever-present sight, and Cathay proved the best fitting candidate. 

With power second only to the Deep Lord, to turn the Archfiend of the Depths into one of his puppets would spell almost absolute victory for Lubaeron. 

Unfortunately, Cathay's stubbornness was without equal across the cosmos. Even the All-mighty Monarchs of the cosmos would find themselves hard pressed to find one more hard headed than her. As it were, that also included looking between those of their own numbers. She was prideful, as well as brazen beyond words. Without using the authority granted to them as a Ruler, Lubaeron would find the configuration of Cathay to be a difficult, time-consuming process. 

But not impossible. No. When in the Dreaming City any act, no matter how ludicrous or insignificant it may be, was manageable. All it took was effort, constant vigilance, and of course time. 

Often, it is said the denizens of the Depths know nothing of the fear of death. It isn't that they're ignorant of it, nor have they forgotten its chill. Instead, they do not allow it to take hold, and even the youngest of whelps continue onward in a frenzy regardless of whatever wounds they may sustain. The older a Depthborn grows the less they have to fear death, as very few things become capable of killing them in such advanced stages of their lives. 

The Primal Ones are no different, having grown so old it was widely accepted that they often could only be bested by those of comparable power or through the might of sovereignty which commanded the very laws and concepts composing creation. 

These primordial terrors could not be contained otherwise, and possessing legions of their very own broods it would be unwise to even attempt as much.

Lubaeron refused to accept this. Regardless of his reasoning, he would make Cathay bend the knee. In a cosmos where he ruled above all others, the First Dreamer refused to accept the likes of any who thought it possible to defy his will. 

He demanded that he would be the first to break a Primal. 

***

The monotony of life on Earth proved as dull and uneventful as the species of apes who held dominion over the planet. When compared to the awe inspiring events which occurred across existence on a temporal basis, some so grand they could be marked as historically influential for any universe, Earth by comparison seemed so… boring. 

Yes, flare, theatrics, and big words aside, that is what Cathay's mood could be summarized as.

She was so incredibly, unfathomably bored. 

Though, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If anything, Cathay might even consider it a fine change of pace after having to deal with the infrastructure of the Depths for thousands upon thousands of years. Despite being among creation's oldest entities she's only held her throne for… well, a time significantly less than the full encompassment of her life. It's been a blink in the grand scheme of things, and yet the migraines and issues she suffered were enough to last several hundreds of her lifetimes. 

Cathay wondered if all Rulers suffered similar issues, or if her situation was unique solely because of the Depths unruly nature. Her predecessors certainly didn’t suffer these sorts of difficulties, though for reasons entirely different from the issues she faced.

She couldn't even fault her own kind, having been just the same sort of bloodthirsty beast once upon a time. While no less spiteful than she was in the past, at least now she understands the importance of the refinement of one's lust for carnage. That certainly didn't mean she was free from any rising issues though.

No, it most certainly did not…

But any problems that came her way would be a secondary thought. A passing issue she was at liberty to ignore. Within reason of course, but thus far any threat she was aware of was something easily managed. 

Invading whelps, Angels seeking to raise their power, even descending Destroyers. Nothing that didn’t eventually solve itself. Could it be considered lazy? Perhaps… though Cathay saw no issue with that. 

Countless eternities of hardship, she deserved a break every now and then.

Let others do the dirty work for once, she was enjoying her boring reprieve from throne-bound duties. 

And she'd enjoy it more were her beloved Valerie here with her now, sitting besides the Ruler, wrapped up in a warm blanket and watching some horrible, human movie about the power of 'friendship'. Such drivel  would be allowed had the human decided to stay behind instead of work. But because Ravencroft now suddenly found themselves with a new, though incredibly reluctant, mayor it meant that Valerie once again had a steady source of income, along with her writer group. 

And unlike the last one, this new politician wasn't likely to try and turn the human population into a global mass of devoted followers. Cathay made sure to explain in detail what would happen if they did just that.

But because the system in the city had been fixed, it meant Valerie was unable to remain home as often as Cathay wished. While still technically a freelance writer, the bold human preferred to keep themselves busy when able. A trait Cathay both admired and despised. Were she to have it her way, Valerie wouldn't be leaving her side anytime soon. 

But such an act wouldn't be forced, even if it would be so easy. Cathay valued Valerie's freedom. Far more than the human might realize. Had they the opportunity to grant them even an ounce of divine power they would. Unfortunately, the eldest Armitage made it clear she wanted little to do with such "advantages", and Cathay could only respect that decision. 

So here she was, waiting for her mate to return home, like some loyal puppy. Raggedly dressed in the clothes she had slept in the night prior, her hair a complete mess, and biding her time by flicking from one channel to another on the apartment's TV. She only needed a tub of ice-cream to finish the ensemble befitting a couch potato. Unfortunately, the freezer was too far and Cathay was much too comfortable.

Unlike the monotonous nature behind simply existing on Earth, Cathay found herself genuinely disinterested with any show humanity had to offer. So many just spoke of the human spirit as though it were special. 

Again, total drivel, but at least she wasn't without complete entertainment. 

Cathay's legs extended past the couch as she just sank into the furniture's cushioned embrace. She stretched her limbs, flexing the toes of her bare feet specifically as she waited just long enough to feel a sudden, soothing heat at the base of her soles. The sensation traveled up the entire length of her body, showing the vigor of the one tending to her whims. 

"Ooooh, that is goood~," Cathay cooed. Peering down, she moved her foot slightly to the side to see her angelic servant, free from their form as a necklace once more and working to please their new master. Oh how far they've fallen to be pampering the lowest extremities of Cathay's body, and yet it was the highest honor they'd be granted currently, to provide comfort to a Ruler of such renown. “More-of-that, if you’d be so kind~.”

Even if her form was far from the shapes she’d used to assume in ages long past. The real markings of how she inspired such terror. 

Cathay's name was legendary for good reason, and this Little Birdy of hers needed a reminder of the power she possessed beyond her throne. Relying solely on her nigh-limitless power was a crutch that lessened the severity of her own natural actions, and as such it paid to exercise some older vices. It took some not so subtle coercing, threats here and there along with visions of heavenly devastation at the hands of the Depths. In time the Watcher began to understand their place and adapted quickly to their new lot in life. What made it all the more sweeter was just how much they hated this new position of theirs. 

Not quite broken-in just yet, but in time. All things in time. 

"See? I told you you'd get used to this~." The Angel hated Cathay, she knew this very well. And she loved every second of it, turning one meant to be so high and mighty into a personal plaything. A shame Valerie would disapprove of such behavior… but what she didn't know the better they'd both be off. "Though, I can't say massage work will be a constant in your future. Sure, the heat from your fire is nice and all, but those little bird arms of yours…'' Some angels were bred for combat while others only existed to observe suitable worlds for divine crusades and conversion. Not every cosmic being was a warrior capable of bench pressing a planet. Some were less impressive than even a dull ape. "They leave much to be desired. Why couldn’t you have been a seraphim? Now those are warriors worth me time." 

Not only was their strength far from ideal, but the Watcher had also done a very poor job of painting Cathay's nails. Looking down at her toes she positioned and scrunched the extremities around the Angel's head, slightly denying the eye-lined rings which comprised their cranium. "And let's not forget our little review over your workmanship here. I actually had faith you could paint my nails. Seemed a simple task at the time. Turns out you couldn't get that right. I mean, how do you even mess up the color black?" 

Cathay needed to do away with the poorly done appliance of polish and complete the task herself. Minimal in effort, but that's besides the point. It was time she didn’t need to waste. "You know, I'm starting to think you don't like this position of yours." 

Her voice never rises, nor does it falter. It carried the same disinterested tone it had when looking over hundreds of pointless television programs. "Like I said before, there are worse situations you could find yourself in," Cathay reminded the Angel as she began to lower her foot closer against the floor, forcing her prisoner beneath tons of soft sole flesh. "A lot worse. Believe it or not I'm actually one of their more sane Rulers out there. Lots of real nutcases out in the cosmos who possess far too much power for their own good." Mentally, Cathay could hear her little Songbird cry out in surprise as she applied more pressure with her foot. It would be so easy to crush their metallic form.

 Easy, but a wasted opportunity when she could instead inspire obedience her way. 

"Some would just snap their fingers at the slightest hint of displeasure and you'd simply cease to be." Cathay explained as she rubbed her foot up and down against the floor, enjoying the sensation of the Angel's body working into her soles' more sensitive spots. "Others would wipe your mind clean. Rewrite your very nature until they turn you into something that better suited their liking." 

Just when the pressure on the angelic Watcher's body seemed to reach its limit, mere moments away from flattening, relief came as Cathay pulled her foot away. "Me though? I prefer engraving important lessons into others. Teach them when they should bite…" allowing only a short reprieve, the Ruler raised her foot over her prisoner once more. She dangled it inches overhead, ready to resume her massage. "Or when they should bow~". 

There was a brief spark of defiance that was quickly ignited in response to Cathay's challenge. Familiar rantings passed through the Angel’s many thoughts, and they wondered why they should endure such humiliation. But the reminder of the foot overhead, along with the terrifying powers Cathay displayed, they knew struggling would amount to nothing. 

To Cathay’s delight, the Angel’s fighting spirit was doused with sudden realization and understanding. Things won't get better for the Angel if they keep fighting. Reluctantly, they raised their arms to meet the bottom of Cathay's foot, this time applying more force in their movements and using far more strength than before to please their captor. For their efforts they received a sigh of satisfaction above as the Ruler of the Depths continued to relax. "See Mure’hail? This can be a lot easier for the both of us if you just play your role." 

All thoughts within the Angel's head fell silent the moment they heard that name. 

Their name. 

Unable to look their tormentor in the eye, Mure’hail returned to their duties of keeping the Ruler above as happy as possible. 

Cathay smiled the moment she felt and saw a bit more of the Angel's defiant spirit break away. It doesn't take much, far less than some realize, to break ones’ ego. All it took was knowing the right information, choosing what buttons to push, as well as plenty of practice in the field of proper intimidation. Cathay could just flaunt her power, throw that great weight around to get what she wanted. She enjoyed the method greatly in fact, favoring it when she was allowed to kill. In the here and now though, where her capabilities were limited due to a promise, desired results demanded she get creative to meet her goals. A quick search through her captive's mind was all that was needed to learn their name amongst other things. 

The Heavens knew next to nothing of the capabilities of a Ruler despite the importance the title held. It couldn't be helped, and Cathay wouldn't hold their lack of knowledge against them. Their Domain, after all, lacked both a throne and a sovereign to assume the mantle of leadership. The only one who could have possibly assumed such responsibility had fallen early on into the Heavens' creation, assuming the throne of the many Hells that dotted infinity instead. Now, the Domain of the Divinity was ruled by the leading gods of various pantheons. While some were formidable in power, even noteworthy, without a Ruler to guide them the Heavens would never be able to fully grasp the power behind one such as Cathay. 

Again, she couldn't fault them for their naivety. Most who carried the spark of divinity were far too young to remember what could have been for their kingdom. Cathay possessed no such excuse. In her youth she was impulsive, reckless, more a beast than the whelps she reprimanded. 

Most of all she was idiotic. The Angel beneath her was not, though she wouldn’t voice that out loud. Only stubborn, just as she once was. Young and naïve, whereas she was just a fool. 

Because of her actions in the past, her ascension to the throne of the Depths seemed almost fated. She misjudged the reach of a Ruler, their power, and was imprisoned because of it. While she did free herself in time, the ramifications of such actions carried on into the present in the form of ancient memories. 

Flashbacks and dreams better left buried but in time rose to the surface regardless of Cathay's efforts to ignore them. 

In some odd way, she resonated with the Angel massaging away at her foot, working their little hands in between her toes. Cathay, in some infinitesimally small measure, saw herself in her captive. More specifically, that defiant nature. While not as easily broken here, Cathay now wondered what could she have done in the past to prevent her present position. 

It wasn’t as though she was displeased with her position. Without it she’d never have this level of luxury and quiet. But her throne came with issues, as well as musings of the ancient past. There are still times where Cathay wondered if others in her Domain were better suited to the task of ruling.

If there was any who could potentially replace her through Depthborn customs.

She supposed it didn’t matter now though. Cathay cast the die long, long ago, and she wasn’t even aware of it at the time. There was no point in regretting ancient history. 

What’s done is done, and Cathay would do well to just let the past remain as such. 

***

Where once there was anger, rage, now there instead was a mind numbing silence that gave way to greater concerns than any star snuffing roar. The Dreaming City found itself still, quiet, waiting for anything to occur. 

Their prisoner, their captive, had grown cold. Cathay's previous attempts at escape had ceased and her tree by extension was allowed to flourish with budding blossoms that signaled the conversion of soul uplifted to the Kingdom of Dreams. The thousands which surrounded the great structure knew, in this moment, that their domain had won. That Lubaeron's will, the will of their master, had finally prevailed over the Archfiend of the Depths. 

They were rewritten. Molded into something which their master could use for future conquests. It was a mentally exhausting battle. One that had gone on for far too many eternities. In the time it had taken to turn Cathay, hundreds of thousands of galactic civilizations had risen and fallen alongside the gods so many of them worshiped. 

Now their struggles were over, and the Dreaming City could breathe a sigh of relief. 

Or at least that was the hope; quickly dashed once the great ivory tree began to creak. 

It was low at first. A rumble that soon turned into yet another guttural cry of rage. Then, from the ivory tree’s sudden cracking came a flash of virulent luminosity that burned away the budding blossoms of finality. A calamitous shower of light that tore through silver branches and leaves of golden splendor. It burned magnificently, dwarfing anything any within the Dreaming City could have dreamed of, falling to ruin as any beneath the mountain-size tree were caught in a hail of ash and death; crushed beneath the prison meant to house their personal demon who now hung above their shattered means of confinement, suspended in the air despite possessing no means of flight. 

Cathay ripped through her brilliant containment with blasphemous power and unrestrained hate, this time managing to utterly annihilate the chains which bound her to the Dreaming City. Allowing herself to be remade, she now cared little for the form she would take and relied solely on her mind to resist greater alteration. Cathay ceased resisting the physical revisions of her form, allowing it to be molded so that she'd find greater opportunity to escape. 

It was a difficult task, requiring extreme control and awareness to ensure she did not lose herself to her enemy. Even a moment's delay would have rendered Cathay subservient to the First Dreamer. Being stuck in one of the City’s trees though, a means of evolution in and of themselves, allowed the Archfiend much time to practice patience. She waited silently, biding her time so that when the opportunity to strike came she didn't waste her chance. When at last the moment of her defiance came to be once more, she used the newly acquired strength granted to her to tear her prison apart. 

Pooling the power which had tried to alter her on a conceptual level, she breached what had never been breached before, and in so doing defied the direct will of the most feared Ruler: Lubaeron. 

Free once again, Cathay wasted no time in turning her wrathful gaze towards those who tried to stand against her. Keep her contained like some louse. Those who wished to see her fade with nary a whimper, now forced to witness her rising, roaring power. They would try to fight back, they always tried to fight back, but deep down Cathay knew each and every one of her jailers understood this to be their last few minutes of life. 

Far below the shattered tree the warriors and heroes of the Dreaming City found themselves transfixed by the Archfiends newest shape. A form which evoked something akin to… undead royalty; regal, demanding audience to any able to witness this terrible metamorphosis. With dry, flaking skin encrusted in what appeared to be some form of carapace, a natural armor meant to contain her awesome power no doubt, this new appearance was by and large the strangest Cathay had taken. 

But it was positively bursting with potential. A whole new tree of evolution, branching paths of growth once blocked off to her. No more imperfections. No more impurities. Refined to the point that she no longer felt unstable, Cathay felt as though her frail visage did her newly acquired power injustice. Her strength was nothing to scoff at before, but this? All the possible transformations she could gain through the gathering of greater power?

It just felt too good. 

The army below her floating form wasted no time in trying to defend their domain, useless though their efforts were. Those who possessed some means of reaching Cathay never met their mark, the slightest alteration to reality turning any and all ranged attacks of their world-slaying weapons against their users, decimating about… oh, little more than one third of their own forces. The Dreaming City was no planet; it was far heartier than any celestial body. That said, it bled spectacularly when torn apart by its own warriors. Humiliating, and fun to witness as those unsure of what to do panicked immediately. Even from this distance Cathay could tell that several had emptied their bowels upon witnessing this small display of power. The greater majority were unsure of what to do, or how they could even possibly fight back. Limited to weapons meant for closer ranged combat, far too many ‘heroes’ were bound onto the ground, forced to look above as their hated foe, their wrath fueled demon, remained suspended in the air far from their reach. 

The guardians, those titanic, mindless brutes who defended the Dreaming City without question, were the only force Cathay needed to visibly move against. They possessed both the scale and necessary power to pose some minor threat to her if given the chance to attack. Already, several moved to reach out towards the newly ascended Depthborn, their silver laced, metallic forms straining like steel housing in a storm. They were fast. Far faster than those their size had any right to be, appearing as little more than a blur to those beneath their monolithic legs. To Cathay however, their movements were… less than sluggish. A feature granted to her through this new perception of hers; unlocked through the possession of a literal ‘third eye’ in the center of her head. Not the evolutionary path she would have chosen, and if able she’d get rid of the additional ocular sense, but at this moment it came in quite handy. 

Events played out slower, moving at such a pace that, were Cathay not aware of her own biological and metaphysical changes, she might have assumed they stopped moving all together. 

It gave her time to plan possible retaliation. Something fitting the humiliation she had to endure for untold eons. A small display of power, just enough to make those who tried to make her bow bend the knee instead. Sure, some might break a few bones from the pressure she planned to exert, and fewer still might even rupture as a result as well, but that’s a risk she was more than pleased to take. 

Raising a single finger to her mouthless lips, Cathay uttered only a single, whispered hush, and found the effects to be devastating. A glow enveloped her body as a low hum escaped her entire being. It traveled forward, finding itself embedded in the minds of all present and able to hear her call. Few noticed a similar, magenta glow wrap around their bodies while most were only unsettled by the ease with which Cathay acted. That wasn’t a hint of effort, nor was their malice felt; meticulously hidden behind simple motions. Many opened their mouths to cry out in surprise, only to find themselves unable to gasp as each and every one of their vital functions simply… stopped. 

Even the massive titans that were the guardians found themselves taken aback by this sudden change, the energies and powers which kept them alive and subservient failing as, for perhaps the first time in an eternity, clarity returned to their beings… only to be ripped away nanoseconds after. 

The bodies of all who heard Cathay’s fatal hymn fell into themselves, calcifying before crumbling away as though they had gone through thousands of years of decomposition in but a few moments. Those strong enough to withstand the sudden failing of their physical flesh could only watch in terror as they were forced to experience every excruciating second  of their own cells dying off one by one at a pace they could never hope to combat. 

It wasn’t long until Cathay found herself alone, overlooking what used to be an army a thousand strong, possessing the means and weapons to challenge almost any army across creation. Those that didn’t crumble away completely were left as monuments to her horrid deed; a reminder of the terror a Primordial Beast such as her could enact even after having returned from the cusp of death. 

Suffice to say she may have overdone it just a smidge. 

It wasn’t as though her action was intentional. There was no fun to be had from straight away killing her victims. She only wished to humiliate her jailers, inspire such fear that they’d never think to cross her or any like her again. The patience of a Primal was not something to be tested after all, and as far as Cathay was concerned she had been very patient. Instead of demonstrating undeniable terror, however, the Archfiend had unintentionally exerted too much of her newly acquired power. In so doing she had killed all those she wished to torment further. It was an error on her part. The type which was likely to draw unwanted attention within the currently unattended Domain.

 The strength granted to her through the Dreaming City was a complicated one to properly control it seemed. 

There was a melody associated with the Domain of Dreams. A song more felt than heard that resonated with all beings across the cosmos. The living, the inorganic, the undead or spiritual, even the demonic were a part of this song. It connected all things through the notes of its hymn, turning the smallest of thoughts into some form of reality within the confines of the Dreaming City, hence its name. A potent power to be sure, one with limitless capabilities, though only when in the City's borders. Only the City’s Ruler and his peers could exercise his Domain’s power beyond its borders. Anyone else and the melody would remain still, stagnant, ever-connecting but immutable.  

It was the closest thing to omnipotence Cathay could accept, and even then the thought was like bile of her nonexistent tongue. 

No wonder all manner of creatures were so easily altered when confined within the Dreaming City. When faced with the power to accomplish literally anything, a feat allowed only to the highest echelon of existence, the very notion abolished everything the new hierarchy of the cosmos worked towards. The First Dreamer stood at the highest seat within creation, ruling over his Domain and likely viewing himself superior to his peers. No doubt the power of the Dreaming City, a might they take great pride in, was something they fiendishly guarded to continue on with their sense of superiority. 

And now Cathay had that very same power, in a much smaller measure of course but it was still granted to her with the idea that she, like every other soul who had fallen to Lubaeron’s will, would lose their sense of self and bend the knee. Now here she was, free to do as she pleased, the same as ever, while being able to lay to waste whole armies with but a single word. What a wonderful development this was. 

Unfortunately, as the sky above this ruined section of the city grew dark, and soon after filled with countless, maddened, and enraged eyes, Cathay knew she had run out of time. With another whisper, her hymn of entropy carried out into the void beyond the blackened sky, drifting into the domains which might hear her. 

Not a cry for help, nor was it a whimper. It was a universally sung declaration of resistance. Not even the most feared Ruler of this age could break one of the oldest and most powerful Depthborn the Deep Wastes had to offer. Cathay wondered if such defiance would reach her home and spur her kin to act against the Dreaming City. She’s certainly killed off a substantial portion of their forces. Further action against this kingdom would essentially finish what she started. 

Something told her deep down though that she wouldn’t live long enough to see such beautiful devastation for herself.    

It didn’t come as much of a surprise to see the First Dreamer appear above Cathay, arriving with a death-laden wind that seemed to decay the very stars above. They appeared in an instant, out of nowhere, with their crimson skin flaring brighter than ever before, reflecting the anger they felt for this horrible transgression. Unrivaled power dwelled just beneath the surface of their being, and each one of Lubaeron's eight eyes glared down at the Archfiend which had brought ruin to his kingdom… understanding she alone did not cause this disaster.  

Cathay wished she had a mouth in this form, only so that Lubaeron could see her prideful grin. She didn’t even think herself capable of such a function and yet… This may very well be the first time in her life where she could actually smile. To see that anger in the First Dreamer’s face, to see the sorrow and hatred in their eyes. There was no greater high in any universe. Even if her actions this day were a guaranteed death sentence, the fact that Cathay was here because of Lubaeron’s actions, that he sentenced his own people to a painful demise the moment he thought he could control a Primordial of the Depths, was sweeter than any soul consumed.

She wished to speak, to insult the Ruler further and really tear into that wound that no doubt was forming in the very deepest parts of their spirit. Cathay wanted to blame Lubaeron, tell them it was their fault their people died here. 

Instead, only silence remained. The same silence Cathay endured as she waited for her moment to tear through her confines. It was… appropriate. It allowed the First Dreamer the chance to really take in all that they’ve done through trying to attain more control than they were worth. 

Before long however, Lubaeron’s body erupted into an explosion of indescribable fury. Whatever energy rested behind the Ruler’s breast fought its way to the surface, exploding through their back and rising in a column of bloodied flames. It spiraled without control, flooding the blackened sky above, burning away the eyes and turning them foul. Everything above grew distorted, disturbed, as a violent heat threatened to burn away the entire plane of reality that housed the dreaming kingdom. It would grow without reason, reducing even matter into oblivion. Terrain, buildings, and corpses alike were melted down in a flash of heat that dwarfed those of the very first infernos which granted the cosmos light and structure. 

The only one unaffected by this sudden release of power and rage was Cathay, her melody protecting her body but also giving her a frontal viewing of something she couldn’t dare challenge, even now at the height of her journey thus far. 

Still, she did not show fear. If anything, her pride only grew as she thought of the fact that she alone was capable of pushing one of the all-mighty Rulers this far. Not just any Ruler at that, but Lubaeron himself. The one whose Domain acted as the birthplace of conceptions hierarchy. 

Closing her eyes, Cathay embraced her inevitable fate. Her perception of time allowed each passing moment to drag on for what appeared to be hours, letting a single thought last longer than intended. Even with that feature granted to her she knew escape was impossible. There was no place she could flee to that would grant her safety. No god she could consume that would give her the needed power to fight back, or no domain which could offer sanctuary. The moment she slew Lubaeron’s faithful was the moment she signed away her life. 

Only erasure awaited her now, and Cathay’s one hope was that her cry into the void would spur her kin to tear this Ruler apart. 

She waited one second, wondering just what nonexistent might feel like. Though, then again she supposed it wouldn’t feel like anything. Even she was having a hard time picturing such a thing. 

On the second after she thought nonexistent wasn’t so bad. Enough time had gone by to where Lubaeron had surely passed their judgment. She had expected more, and received little in the way of discomfort. 

It was on the third where she realized that didn’t make any sense and that something was amiss. 

Opening the singular eye in the center of her head, Cathay was left awestruck to be cast in the protective shadow of another. A large, draconic, yet heavenly being, possessing six wings, and qualities befitting one of the Depths. Though they possessed no eyes to see, nothing that existed was capable of escaping their sight. A godlike figure strong enough to not only challenge the natural might of the First Dreamer, but also their authority as a Ruler. 

The only one who heeded her call of defiance and answered accordingly: the First Ruler of the Depths, Zathas. 

A fellow Primordial and Cathay’s equal in age, they had ascended to their throne through might as well as a quality unseen in the Depths… serenity. Calm and unfamiliar warmth that soothed the bloodlust felt within all Depthborn. Far from a peaceful being, damning many a galaxy to apathy and eventual extinction, Zathas was often viewed as an entity deprived of a warrior’s spirit. Yet still, their power was respected even without their authority, and their sacrifice when binding themselves to their kingdom was understood. Though their rule was overbearing, even tyrannical in some ways, it brought a sense of stability unheard of across the Depths. 

Cathay had never had a chance to converse with the Ruler, nor did she ever care to. It was a waste of time in her eyes, and before now she never even placed them in their thoughts. They ruled with the closest thing comparable to kindness that could be found in the Deep Wastes. A trait wasted in territory where only the strongest may survive. Yet in the here and now, with that same kindness placing Zathas between one of his own and the fury of a fellow ruler, she couldn’t help but find herself enraptured. 

Cast in their ever shifting shadow, watching as the distorted city around them all shifted and stirred like shadows along a seabed, Cathay felt something akin to joy, seeing now that she had a chance at continued survival; and deeper down she felt the embers of that which was reminiscent of… respect? 

The only Ruler she had met prior was unfortunately Lubaeron, a poor introduction to the caste that governed creation. Now though, to be cast in the protective shadow of the Depths’ King… her Ruler… She understood well what allowed them to rise to their position. 

A desire to defend their kingdom from all who wished it harm. To allow the Depthborn the chance to grow and evolve, just as they had always done, while also instilling something new. Something separate of what they’ve known since before time immemorial. 

Altruism…

Unfathomable. Inconceivable. Cathay’s mind could not grasp such selflessness, and in her daze she was unaware of a tear forming behind her. Vibrant in colors, possessing the likes of spectrums not seen by mortal eyes, Zathas had torn open a breach between the Dreaming City and the Depths. One that would not remain open for long, only allowing enough time to grant their kin safety. 

There was no greater humiliation than to be saved by another, but once her faculties returned Cathay realized she had no other option. Lubaeron’s anger was such that both she and Zathas knew conflict was an inevitability. Someone was bound to die this day, and were the Ruler of the Depths to have his way it would not be one of his own kin. 

So… Cathay fled. Finding safety in the breach behind her, watching as it began to close, shielding her from the scene unfolding beyond. She saw Lubaeron summon a scythe of silver, refined by the cold found between the stars. Zathas in turn forged a sword rippling with the fury of the Depths, maintained through the energies of a self-contained breach. While no clash was observed, it was felt. 

As across all dominions, even in the deepest territory the Depths had to offer, every soul across totality felt the first clash between two tyrants. Two kings. Two Rulers.

A collective breath was held by trillions upon trillions of intergalactic species, as even those unaware of the cosmic hierarchy felt deep within their bones that something unfathomable had changed within creation. Like a dire, sinking feeling felt in the pit of your stomach, in these passing minutes there was no soul that did not feel the clashing of two beings greater than even the most supreme of gods.  

Yet none felt it as clearly as Cathay. 

Alone in her Domain she was left only with thoughts of sacrifice and righteousness. The qualities which had made Zathas a leader worth following. She… wished she had settled the matter of her faltering evolutions earlier. Deep down, she believed she’d have very much liked to serve under such a Ruler. To see how they led those that demanded only carnage and battle. It would have been interesting. Maybe even inspiring. Eye-opening. 

From the one act of altruism, Cathay felt Zathas to be an acceptable leader. Perhaps the only being she’d have seen as her superior. Now they were fated to fall at the hands of one she infuriated.  

The humiliations never ended it seemed. Even worse, the Archfiend felt… regret over being so weak. Weak enough that despite being one of the totality's oldest living souls she was forced to flee.

Like some gnat. 

So… Cathay made a vow. 

Just as she had exhibited patience before to free herself from her once thought unassailable bindings, the Archfiend would do so again. 

For as long as she was kept away from the First Dreamers wretched sight and grasp she would bid her time. She would plan, and she would scheme…

Until the chance arose where Cathay could rip the still beating heart from Lubaeron’s chest.