How Valerie ever doubted the existence of those of an eldritch nature served to completely baffle Cathay. Especially when she took into major consideration the environment in which her beloved human grew up in. A city reeking of the unexplained, Ravencroft was absolutely seeped in the scent of the unfathomable. Questionable beginnings and uncertain futures; It was almost impossible for her to ignore, and while not possessing the redolence of the Depths, bearing an odor more reminiscent of the Outer Gods beyond the Ultimate Gate, it was still something a logical-natural mind might prove unable to overlook. Cathay fully suspected the citizens of the city had had their bloodlines ‘blessed’ with the influence of the outer dark. 

A kingdom separate of the Depths and possibly even the Void; powerful, but certainly no domain. The Gods of the pantheon were formidable, greatly so, but they possessed no Lord; not truly. They weren't of any concern to existing domains. That said, they were still far above mankind. To see the influence of those misshapen deities reach here was of little surprise. 

There was instead astonishment over Valerie's previous denial of the existence of things so far beyond the ken of man. For what else could one who denied the nature of the cosmos be other than astonishing? 

She did not believe her brother, Jason, when he revealed the existence of something otherworldly just beyond Ravencroft’s borders, visiting the pier that neighbored the wide, deep sea. In her brothers’ subsequent kidnapping Valerie began to develop doubts over her previous beliefs of Ravencroft’s normality, and when she had begun to date Cathay all previous notions of the denial of cosmic truths went out the window. 

But that denial had still been present at one point, and regardless of Valerie’s views now it still perplexed Cathay how her dear human was able to go so long without ever realizing something was amiss in her childhood stomping grounds. It wasn’t natural. This city seemingly untouched by time in appearance and customs wasn’t normal. 

That said neither was Valerie, in both habits and qualities of the mind. She was bold and brave in the face of just about anything, and even now knowing that her city could be populated with those who have been touched by the outer dark of the cosmos or terrors of the deep sea she still faced the day without so much as a worry. Really, her only previous concern was her home City’s loss of a mayor, an issue that was quickly remedied. 

It was all rather… incredible. 

Yes… that was the word Cathay believed felt fitting given the circumstances of Valerie’s capability to see that which often broke minds. Incredible. Such a stalwart soul was exceptionally rare in a species as fragile as man. They possessed a resilient mind, far more than that of their brother’s who through his own natural resistances was capable of peering into the eyes of one whose very nature sent entire populations spiraling into unending madness. Histeria and devotion. 

Something clearly lurked beyond the surface of their human skin. Not entirely of the Depths, Cathay would have sensed that long ago. 

Perhaps an offshoot? Or a domain which had been devoured long ago? The Abyss came to mind, a former kingdom of infinite darkness that was young when the Depths had breached the veil of reality into its vast territories. Though fierce, their dominion fell just as quickly as their rising Ruler; a lesser one compared to the greater powers of creation. There were survivors however, and as such the denizens of the long dead kingdom could have influenced some of the ape’s on earth, altering their bloodlines. 

That was just one theory though. Whatever the case, it had to have been something powerful to defend against the blood-raged nature of the Depthborn. Even the resilient mind of a scholar would break when peering into the eyes of something as grand as a Primal whereas Jason and Valerie might very well be unaffected. Jason had already met the Pale God Ordegash and lived with much of his own faculties intact. Perhaps there was some form of straining upon the mind, but that didn’t lessen the feat in any sort of way. A human, though altered, had met a Primordial force of creation and lived.    

They perplexed the mind. The whole of the Armitage bloodline. So much so that Cathay wondered just how many humans on this little planet possessed the means of harboring resistance against the immutable. In some sense, it explained Valerie’s prior defiance to the existence of eldritch forces. Such protection against the unfathomable provides a strange sense of… normality. The strange and seemingly impossible wasn’t believed because such forces had already existed around her, so intricately woven into Valerie’s life that it couldn’t have been anything BUT normal to her. It was so odd to think that only through a chance meeting with both the Ruler of the Depths and its legendary Butcher was the bold human finally willing to open her mind to the possibilities beyond her strange city. 

She was seeing things differently now, aware of the oddities prevalent in Ravencroft. That was good. It meant Valerie might be willing to accept even stranger occurrences. It wouldn’t be long now until she began to question the appearance of some of the city’s denizens. People she had grown up alongside her entire life whose appearances she never questioned before because of the simple reason that she never needed to. Bulging, watery eyes, wide mouths with thick lips, and shriveled necks with strange birthmarks in the shape of gills; all traits seen in a wide number of Ravencroft’s population. Not all possessed these traits, the Armitage line included, but the majority did. 

And they all carried that stench of the ‘uplifted’. Sea touched. Blessed by outer forces. 

These altered humans were quite the repugnant crowd. Very distrustful of outsiders to their city; Cathay unfortunately included among those numbers. Already she’s been pushed aside when walking down city streets, kept against a wall to have it “explained” to her how she wasn’t exactly welcomed. She’d have found such actions amusing, if not outwardly insulting, and almost ALWAYS ended with her would-be assailant on the floor, clutching their head in unrestrained agony as their eyes bled out from the smallest crumbs of cosmic truth she’d bestowed upon them. 

Were Cathay to be asked, it’d be kinder to kill such people. If all these apes did was get offended and act distrustful of others then what point was there to their existence? They served no purpose other than to point out the flaws within certain blood mingling with that of a lesser creature, creating offspring that just shrieked failure; mistake. But a promise was a promise, And so Cathay could only make them wish for death instead. But the threats of Ravencroft’s citizens never ended, and she had had to deal with more than a few groups of foolish assaulters. They understood the value of a life well enough, running at the first sign that challenging the Ruler of the Depths was an idiotic move. But they didn’t seem to possess enough intelligence to spread such information around. As such, Cathay was forced to deal with the odd gathering of ‘fish-eye folk’ every now and then. 

Even here, as she walked through the city’s streets alone, enjoying the cold night breeze, Cathay could hear the thoughts of those who waited hidden in the shadows, just beyond the clacking of her own boots. More of the disgusting, oily faced populace wishing to teach her a lesson. An act that will likely end in broken bones, shattered minds, and a complete snuffing of the will to live. Normally, were Valerie to have accompanied her, the Ruler would have allowed such thoughts to pass. But the human was forced onto her laptop back at home, working late to reach a deadline even though it was meant to be a planned day off. Unfortunate…

Yet also salubrious for the deeper tastes of Cathay. She’s been kept at bay long enough, and though death might not be an option when it came to appeasing some baser desires, there were still ways the Archfiend could enjoy herself. 

She enjoyed handling certain tasks personally. The bloodier the better. It was her definition of ‘fun’. A pastime less explored now because of her throne, it didn’t matter if she was dealing with a pantheon of gods who have hounded the Depths for too long or a group of assailants less than atoms to her, some matters just needed a more intimate touch. 

It was reminiscent of old, ancient days, and even if Cathay’s actions in the present were abysmally minor by comparison they still brought out an ounce of enjoyment: satisfaction. 

It was important to enjoy what you did when you could do it. That was just a simple fact of life. Her status as a Ruler had deprived Cathay of much of her old pleasures and so, with each step she took, as she inched closer to yet another group of unfortunate and foolishly brave souls, she found herself looking forward to what she might do to these misinformed mutants of lowly apes. 

Fragile though they were, there was no end to the range of torment she could invite upon their soft flesh. So easily mangled, molded into something that pleased her senses. Like the angel around her neck, Cathay might even think it time to add some new pieces of jewelry to her horde. 

But nothing, no matter how cruel, could ever compare to the hardships she brought down upon the dreaming city; her magnum opus of malignity. Her trophy of terror. A reputation ruined, a city besieged by constant slaughter at the hands of not just the Depths but every domain with a force fit to challenge the once mightiest kingdom. And Cathay never even had to raise a hand in the beginning. There was beauty in that, strange though it might seem coming from one of the Deep Wastes. 

Watching from the shore. Acting as an observer, an instigator, rather than an attacker. 

Sometimes, to win a battle, you don’t always need to raise your sword or brandish your teeth. You only need to let the ignorant fight for you, in your name, unaware. 

Patience… there was elegance in that. It made the hunt so much better when exercised. 

***

There was strength in claw and tooth; power in rage. In wrath. 

But in deception there was elegance.

In plotting… There was a silent progression. Advancement made with nary a roar. 

A simple lie resounding across the firmament, reaching the ears of any foolish enough to listen. 

Among those vast numbers were those brazen enough to move against the Dreaming City. 

Zathas had stricken the First Dreamer deeply, though it had cost them their life; wounding the Crimson Bastard on such a level that their authority, their very throne, bled profusely: metaphysically wounded. A possibility undreamt of even by the most ambitious of souls. Lubaeron was revered. Deemed unassailable by all, even those who held a throne. Yet he was bled, and though still very much alive they had been humiliated. 

All things felt it. Every creature that carried with it the spark of life and a dream could feel the dwindling strength of the mightiest Lord. 

They were fading slowly, struggling to recover from their wounds.  

Zathas left a deep mark in the history of the cosmos. 

Though the throne of the Deep possessed a new Ruler they were a far cry from the power the First possessed. They lacked their drive, their spirit. Everything which defined their nature and allowed for the strikes which bleed he who had never known pain before. Unworthy of Cathay’s respect, The Second to Rule could never hope to rise to the call of the First’s battle. They were weak even for a Primal and only served to maintain the small semblance of stability left in Zatha’s absence. They could never hope to take part in the calamitous conflict which had racked the pillars of creation. 

It must have been glorious… 

Many warriors would have dreamed of having witnessed such a reality shaking skirmish. To watch as beings greater than any god duke it out in a war of opposing wills; their very thoughts shaping their battlefield. Birthing and rending countless new forms of physics between their mighty strikes, so many would jump at the chance of experiencing such an existence. Even if it were only for a few moments. 

But not Cathay. The only being she might have kneeled to had given their life to preserve her own. For no reason other than that she was a citizen of their kingdom. Altruism and righteousness at its finest.

 Pointless… but she'd be damned if their sacrifice wouldn't mean anything. The Archfiend owed Zathas nothing in their death, yet she would move in their name regardless. 

A price to pay for not just having her hide saved but for also having left the Depths in such a poor state. Many of her kin would need to devour more feverishly if they wished to survive without their First Ruler. They would need to prepare for conflict that was certain to transpire. If not then the Deep Wastes faced unfamiliar vulnerability. 

Lubaeron would recover in time but the damage was already done. The cosmos knew the mightiest was vulnerable. It knew they had slain the Ruler of the Depths. That they had been wounded.

It is why Cathay still lives to plot against her old foe. Her nemesis. Their authority, their power, was fractured. Mending slowly but broken long enough that they could not act against the devil who got away. 

Good. It meant Cathay had time to plan. And she’d need as much time as she’d be allowed to finish what had been started. 

Circumstances and threats aside she found this to be exciting. 

Maybe a tad bit too exciting for one as old as her…

But she enjoyed the privilege of cunning nonetheless. Guiding the hands of many kingdoms from the shadows, turning them against the chief Tyrant Dreamer. It doesn't take much convincing; the Dreaming City despite its stature was generally looked upon poorly. Lubaeron wasn’t well liked, nor were his practices widely accepted by current powers. That said, few would ever go against his word. Many coveted the might his domain possessed and for good reason. There were no equals to the potential the Dreaming City manifested. Of course none would stand against Lubaeron and his armies. It was a Fool's errand to fight against such forces. 

And yet Cathay had devastated their armies, and brought ruin to the City's brilliance. It was crippled. Humiliated before Zathas even striked. It was no wonder she was wished dead. 

Cathay’s continued existence was an affront to the Domain of Dreams influence. 

When weakness was sensed many rallied against the chief dominion, and with Cathay's exaggerated lies whispered into the ears of kings and queens betrayal was a certainty. A silver tongue proved sharper than any blade, and armies of idiots wielded weapons in her stead. 

Her own experiences were proven to be wonderful fuel to the rising flames of disorder. Cathay’s tales of her own suffering within the towering ivory trees, as well as the goal of the Depths' destruction, had been exaggerated. Blown out of proportion to such an extent that now the greater expanse of Infinity believed Lubaeron had been plotting to rid himself of all opposition; Remake creation in his own image and rule as the sole Sovereign of Creation. Even if that meant crushing those few that remained loyal.

An obvious lie, but one that could not go ignored, especially when distrust was already sewn among those who sat in their thrones idly waiting for the First Dreamer to succumb to his wounds. It wasn’t long before the fools of the cosmos took to the lie without issue, either believing in the false truth with all their hearts or using it as an excuse to finally push back against what they viewed as Lubaeron’s oppression. Populations fattened themselves on Cathay's deceit, swelling their numbers into armies that would not break even against the wellspring of possibility. They all fully turned against the First Dreamer and his kingdom working in cooperation that hadn’t been seen since the Heaven’s culling. 

It was oddly beautiful. 

Foolish, to see so many give in to the Archfiend’s lies, but beautiful all the same.  

To watch newly risen Guardians of the Dreaming City crumble at the hands of Destroyers. To hear the screams of survivors as they were ripped apart by Depthborn. Any who fled the bloodshed, trying to find refuge on other worlds, instead found themselves subservient to angels and gods who waited patiently for such opportunities to swell the numbers of believers. All domains, beyond even those three, worked in strange harmony. Never fully aligned but facing off against what they perceived to be a greater threat. 

It proved amusing, and it gave Cathay ample time to plot her own means of defiance once more. 

War was well and good, especially when said war was directed towards her nemesis, but it was a means to an end. A front, a diversion, keeping all distracted from her true intentions. 

Machinations seen in quiet observation, as on a lone planet the Archfiend observed the blackened skies above from a ruined city so small she need only swipe her hand to wipe it away completely; a demonstration of size and power. A conquest of hers, ruination allowed through the war which rocked totality. Very few eyes of enemies were upon her, and though this was not a location which served the Dreaming City it was still a needed vantage point to observe the starless sky above. Not a single point of light could be seen, and the weak species of this world were already well panicked as a result. Her arrival was the nail in the coffin for them, and their minds broke upon witnessing the burning eyes of her new, maddening form.

Returning to the process of evolving herself again, the Archfiend made up for lost time within great ivory trees, hunting those who might alter her form; deities and angels especially. Since her escape from Lubaeron’s clutches Cathay had consumed more essence, amassed greater power for her retribution, and while her form is relatively mundane compared to previous iterations, appearing quite angelic in truth, her size has increased to better maintain her extraordinary strength. It swelled up to portions rather rare within the Depths, shooting past thousands upon thousands of meters. Quite literally larger than life in the minds of some, and any who saw her and did not know of her origins might even mistake the Primordial to be of angelic descent, granted one with qualities of the deep. A pale, sickly green to a newly formed skin with only the barest amount of chitin that once served as armor, paired with an ever present slickness that gave off the image of having just been pulled free from a body of water. Her form, though towering beyond reason, was alluring in appearance. The first of its kind in the list were the now many alterations of Cathay’s body. A definite improvement from previous steps in her evolutionary chain, and finally a step in the direction she desired. Fierce. Fetching. Now if only she had the wings she so craved.

She had no clue why that alone continued to elude her. 

The form was of such grandeur that she wasn’t certain what broke the mortal minds of this lone little planet. Her newfound beauty, her scale, or her nature as a primordial terror. Cathay supposed It didn’t matter though. Whether she was majestic or a monster the lives of lesser creatures were of little consequence. Whole settlements of the living crunched beneath the Archfiend's footfalls as her sights were drawn elsewhere. 

The sky above was stagnant, nary a motion to show off anything out of the ordinary. Off in the Void however she could see it… hear it, the sounds of battle. A clash that soon blew up into a chaotic symphony. A roar which would have annihilated Cathay’s planet had she not shielded it through the exertion of her own power; her magic. Such terrible power, it was no wonder no stars remained in the cold expanse above. They had all been wiped out. Most likely by the very roar which rang out again, issue challenge to any who would hear. 

It was a Calling. A rite of the Depths created by Zathas's successor to challenge mighty foes. Acting as a compulsion, when answered the call must always be heeded, even by a Ruler. It was a law which forced two beings to fight on a more even playing field, relying on their own strengths rather than powers gifted; taken might rather than any that was given. Its main purpose was to serve as a means of finding the right successor to the Throne of the Deep. Battle for the authority to rule. It prevents the Ruler from using strength beyond anything which was natural. It kept the ‘omnipotent’ from willing away adversities. Anathema to the all-mighty, the Calling forced the rule Survival of the Fittest in its most pure of forms. 

Though not the original intention of its creator it was the key Cathay needed to challenge Lubaeron. Though weakened greatly she knew she’d never be able to face a Ruler, especially one of his caliber. Worst still, the Calling was a limited law, restricted to those who called the Depths their home. But if she could find some way to harness that rite, reshape its concept into something that can be used against those beyond her kingdom, then she’d have the chance she craved to finish what her Lord could not. 

Lubaeron was strong because of his power and position. They were the first and only lord of their Domain. They never had to work for that power, they never needed to rise. Their natural strength was lacking. This was the truth. Cathay just needed the properties to bring the Calling into a physical form. Force it into the tapestry that was the canvas of creation. A sacrilegious plot… but she had all the freedom in the cosmos now that creation itself had turned its back on the Domain of Dreams. No one would stop her as the threat she posed was far less concerning than the lies she spread of Lubaeron and his crusade. If any knew then it would be too late to impede the Archfiend’s progress.   

Cathay just needed the right materials. Ontological in nature, and some far simpler to acquire than others. But none were as difficult as procuring as the potential of a worthy successor. One who would take the throne of an existing Tyrant. 

That was tricky. Such beings were nurtured. Guided by predecessors to rise to the mantle. Developed needed qualities, acquired desirable traits. In the Deep Wastes it was a strong hand and refined bloodlust that was looked for in a Successor, but for rivaling kingdoms the qualities often varied, and not always was this art of succession practiced. There was no easy way to acquire the potential. Still, Cathay needed to try. 

So she searched for such beings, moving through a war stricken tapestry once more with singular purpose. While she dined on what she could, the leftovers of her kin as well as the bodies of those who had fallen, she focused purely on her task at hand. She never deviated for long. It took time, and she buried many who got in her way. Cathay loathed giving the Crimson Bastard the time he needed to heal, but there was little choice in the matter. 

Eventually she found it. The final piece she needed, discovered in forced conflict of such grand scale that shockwaves reached out across time and space, dooming countless worlds to annihilation by forces they did not know existed. Power not on the level of Rulers, rising to meet those standards. Greater than many gods of the weave of realities. Were Cathay to focus she could even see the struggling forms of those who clashed, waiting for her chance to strike.

Powerful champions of the Void and the Depths; A Great Destroyer and Primordial Terror. Cathay knew the latter well. An old soul just like her, though not quite as advanced in age. Known as Hepate the Sundered Worm, the Horror was known for her grotesque appearance and terrifying applications of innate power. A chitinous, serpentine monstrosity capable of coiling around whole planets, the Sundered Worm warped 'the truth which many might adhere to'. It did not matter what the truth may be, how grand or infinitesimal it was in reality, or how many even believed it, Hepate altered it all the same. Anything which might be followed was changed irrevocably. She could not help it. It was her nature. A need to dominate the objective universe through subjective will. That which was true became a lie in her presence, and that which was false may become reality if willed strongly enough. 

They were strong, of that there was no doubt, and despite their monstrous appearance they were quite refined in their process of thoughts. The Sundered Worm understood patience. They practiced restraint. Temperance despite the natural bloodlust common among all those of the Depths. That coupled with their formidable might made them an ideal candidate and a worthy successor indeed. It takes more than brute strength to rule the Deep Wastes after all.

Her foe on the other hand appeared more pleasant on the eyes. Whimsical and serene even when looking upon their awe-inspiring form from the limited viewing of a planet. Yet they were also  bolstering incredibly destructive raw potential despite their almost mystical visage. A Voidborne. One who dabbled in the laws of destruction and creation. A beauty with hair brighter than any sun, and skin as dark and beautiful as the night peppered with starlight. They were clothed in robes that mirrored the cosmic expanse around the ruined battlefield between them and their hated foe. So many planets lost across who knew how many systems, and yet the battle had not ceased. The Voidborne exuded an almost guardian-like presence. A defender of those they uplifted, but they were no denizen of the heavens. They did not crave worship from their kindness. No, they were far greater than that. More than their nature allowed it would seem. 

Though not quite as large as the Sundered Worm, this denizen of the Void was no less planetary in scale. To place a single hand upon a planet would no doubt doom a continent in direct impact, as well as flood the greater expanse of the globe. Yet there was never a desire to act on such instincts. There was a strong refusal to do so. 

Valstraxas. It had to be. A Destroyer who chose to become something more in-line with a cultivator. 

Cathay had only heard their name once or twice in recent history but that did little to hamper their reputation. Even though the two had millions of years to their lives they had never met personally. A shame in truth. Cathay would have loved to wear their beautiful skin before acquiring her own. 

A kind if not dutiful spirit, Valstraxas was capable of washing away whole galaxies with only her fiery tears before planting the seeds of life so that creation may flourish anew. She was a mentor to many of her sisters, one of the Void's strongest and well loved by all in her domain. Yet despite their gentle appearance… they possessed beneath the surface qualities quite similar to Hepate. Temperance which held back a growing need for destruction. She had been a Destroyer first. A breaker of worlds to bring balance in a universe. But Valstraxas chose cultivation, the weight of her previous duty proving too heavy for her shoulders. Even then, her origins were found as a destroyer of worlds. A pillar of extinction. That drive of ancient duties still remained regardless of any measures taken to bury it. 

Still, because of her storied life she was another fitting candidate for a potential successor, though the idea never likely crossed their mind. Cathay wasn't certain how much longer this battle of theirs would last, or if the veil between the Void and Depths would survive without some tear forming. It’s a miracle it’s gone on as long as it has, the two were remarkably close in power. Their very presence distorted the laws of physics which governed all, turning time back and forth with each clash of their titanic bodies. Space expanded and shrunk with the rise and fall of their reserves of energy, and were this to go on further they’d likely exhaust themselves before anything of benefit was born. 

A risk that needed to be taken and was already well calculated. Were Hepate and Valstraxas any weaker than Cathay would have never urged these two Successors to fight. Guide their paths forward into this chance encounter, allowing their respective natures to do the work and incite conflict. One lived to bring life while the other sought out only destruction. Simplicity at its finest, any true effort on Cathay’s part was minimal. If she so wished she could have killed the two of them long before the present, though decided against such actions. She would need all her strength saved for her reviled nemesis. 

Across the vast distance of space it could be seen, the rising climax of this long observed battle. How long has it been since they started? A century perhaps? Likely more. Time was wounded after all, it passed in the blink of an eye. Still, in that time, and through using her own godlike body, Valstraxas kept any world which remained from harm. A few, maybe a handful at most, but in her eyes they were always worth saving. 

Every bruise she took bled the star across her body. Every puncture across her flesh brought with it an ocean of life binding essence. This was the Voidborne's duty. Even as she drifted in the inky blackness of space, drowning in the overbearing ferocity of the Primal’s wrath, she kept the cavernous maw of Hepate from her throat. Valstraxas felt this to be her greatest of duties. The purpose of her life. 

Protecting all forms of the living from the Depths reach. 

Even as Hepate's serpentine body coiled itself around her foe's torso this goal never changed to one of self-preservation. As nonexistent air escaped Valstraxa’s lungs from the increasing pressure she did not waver. Bones cracked across the emptiness of space, subverting the normally silent expanse, but there was never a scream that echoed out into the void. Never a whimper or plea. The champion of the Void endured regardless of the danger she was in. 

A warrior or a hero, it didn't matter which. Their strength was respectable, that was all that mattered. That alone is the sole reason why Hepate continued her assault, even though this was an enemy fully capable of killing her if given the opportunity. Their battle had extinguished life without rhythm; without purpose other than strife. And though few worlds may have survived thanks to the Voidborne's intervention it was still a truth that could not be denied. In attempting to do so, the lie which kept these survivor worlds safe would be their undoing. So it was Hepate's will. So it would come to pass the longer this battle raged on. 

The climax would be reached soon, they could all feel it. Both Valstraxas and Hepate as they knew their powers and bodies were reaching their limits, as well as Cathay who watched on from her shielded world; boredom present in her gaze. It was about time things finally ended.

With a spiteful roar the Voidborne brought her hands down upon the Primal's many angled maw, trying to pry them off of her body with little success in the endeavor. Hepate was firmly wrapped around her foe-prey's thrashing form and would not let go until either she was dead or they were. An ultimatum forced, and normally one that ended in favor of the more cruel adversary. But a voidborne of this renown was not so easily broken. 

The stars across Valstraxas's body grew brighter, as did the hands which clutched her enemies' jaws. Heat built up across the empty space of the nigh-empty star system, humbling any sun until the Voidborne's whole body seemed alight with fire. Even then her foe would not retreat. They would not pull back. 

Cathay counted the seconds which passed on by, observing as the void filled with solar radiance. 

With one final heave Valstraxas lifted what portion of Hepate's body she could before each and every star across her body flew from her body in a display of spectacular destruction. A sacrifice meant to wipe an existing Primordial off of the Depths' board while also maintaining the safety of those worlds she wished to protect, Cathay's included. Every world present was kept from harm, their homes and eyes shielded from the brilliant display of a Cultivator’s last act of preservation. 

The final display of power was successful, as was the final hope of sacrifice. Light washed over every world for lightyears around, filling the void once more with stars that had been extinguished in the conflict, the last remnants of a hero’s service. When the brilliant explosion had finally settled neither Destroyer or Primal remained, their bodies reduced to states less than even atoms. 

But their forms were of no importance. It was their essence which Cathay desired. Extending a hand out towards the sky the Archfiend reached across oblivion to pluck free one of the newly formed stars; the traces of the power expelled by Valstraxas, now mutated through the metaphysical properties of Hepate. Domination of the infinite expanse through strength of will, strewn together with the desire to challenge insurmountable odds and preserve life, now altered to fit one's own rather than the lives of billions. A powerful combination, now coupled with the calling to challenge a worthy foe. Though Valstraxas was not bound by law to answer the challenge of a Primal's call, Hepate had still enacted the rite all the same thus the properties stood in place.  Instinctual action at best, but still salubrious for the Archfiend. 

All these things Cathay needed and combined, using whatever magic she could muster to force her will upon the rules of creation. Her status as one of the Depths firstborn offered her much in the way of power but she needed far more than that. Every curse she could utter, every blasphemous ritual she knew, all of it went into this one act of defiance. Go beyond what defines the words of conception, the metaphysical and ontological. Beyond the realm of dreams to shape that which she desired most. A means of ascension without taking a throne. 

The small world around Cathay suffered from her efforts, driven to madness as malicious hymns assaulted their senses in this new force’s conception. Cast in the shadow of her backside, none could even register when the Primordial terror fell to her knees in exhaustion, decimating any unfortunate enough to be beneath her. Neither the bursting bodies or death screams of victims were registered. There was only the hymn which assaulted conception as a whole. 

The very same hymn heard across the Dreaming City, granted to Cathay through forced evolution and near subjugation, now used to her benefit and Lubaeron’s eventual fall. The resonance/tether needed to strand together all that had been acquired. Once refined but now volatile, in time and through great effort the Archfiend succeeded in her endeavor. Creating that which might challenge the Ruler's without rising to a throne herself. 

A most heretical flame, meager and quick to die were she to allow it, but bolstering such terrible yet awe inspiring potential. As though this tool against the all-powerful could evolve itself at a moment's notice. Rising. Growing. It defied reason in a setting which constantly found itself reshaped. 

Cathay would etch the embers upon stone before that could happen however; create tablets that served to contain her only and greatest creation. She would hide them upon her own magnificent form, keep them from the hands of rivals until her great task was completed. Only then would she reveal her magnum opus to the domains which held uncontested dominion. 

Like waves across the whole of creation, this sudden change could not be ignored. A signal felt in the bones of countless but not yet understood as to why. In time though. All things in time. 

Cathay smiled. For perhaps the first time in her long, long life.  

This dream of hers was calamity. These tablets, Ruin. With it she would bring doom upon the Dreaming City. 

With it she would inspire fear within the Rulers. 

None will dare cross the Archfiend of the Depths again. 

One need not raise a hand to win a war. They need only be patient and wait for an opportunity to strike. 

When it did, the fun could finally begin. And the infinite expanse of totality would scream until the Depths has had its fill. 

***

“Be still already, Ape. It’ll hurt more if you continue moving.” In between the Ruler’s fingers was the arm of one of her would-be assaulters. Another of Ravencroft’s fished eyed fold, a woman who without her mutations would be quite the looker. Not along the lines of Cathay’s type, her beloved Valerie cleared those marks with golden stars; very quick to terrify, but certainly had to be the appeal to many a man of this odd city. “But if you wish to play it rough…” 

Opening her salivating maw wide, Cathay lifted the terrified woman above her face, giving them a full view of what awaited. There wasn’t a moment where the Ruler didn’t wish to wet her whistle. Too long on the surface meant that she’s been too long without proper prey. Even were she to be joking in the here and now she can’t be certain how long that would remain the case. 

Without moving her lips, the shrunken down woman heard her tormentor’s voice in the back of her mind. “I can certainly abide by that~.” 

A group of three who thought it smart to test their luck against the Ruler of the Depths, and though far from ever being an actual threat to her they still dared to brandish a weapon against the Archfiend. A kitchen knife of all things, rusted and chipped, hardly a thing that’d be used in some vagrant’s restaurant. The least they could do when threatening someone of Cathay’s caliber would be choosing something of finer quality. The craftsmanship of their current weapon was lacking anything of worth.

That said… one could suppose this still counted as a ‘threat on her life’. That alone demanded action be taken. Self defense as the apes might say. 

Shrinking down the group of three, making them less than the size of rodents, seemed as appropriate a punishment as any. Of course the altered humans certainly didn’t see it as such. One screamed and tried to run, a bloated bastard that would have popped had Cathay chosen to step on them fully. Instead, with a snap of her fingers they were transported right beneath the heel of her left boot, a sudden flash in their eyes as now they laid upon their stomach with the near full weight of the Ruler’s foot on them. They were forced to wait out whatever possible punishment was in store for them while also contending with the ever growing pressure. The Ruler of the Depths made no effort to hold back her own weight, and while far from lethargic her human size still greatly outclassed anything so small. She even made sure to drag the little human back and forth every now and then, tearing their clothes as well as cutting into their skin. Nothing to kill them. At least not yet. Just the punishment needed to drive her message home. 

Always weigh your battles carefully.  

The second and likely youngest of the group, a hotblooded bud of a man, had an apparent temper greater than most of their ilk. The type that always yell profanities regardless of the situation they were in, always making themselves the victim despite misdeeds done through their own two hands. Annoyances no matter the species or planet they came from. If they were to commit sin then they as well own up to it. Wear it on their chest. 

They were a  bit too loud for Cathay’s liking; dragging a finger across her lips she subsequently removed the mouth from the mouse-ape completely. The moment their shouting stopped and they understood what had happened, they screamed. Or at least tried to. For obvious reasons nothing was heard. Any bravado and spite they possessed was washed away as panic took over, followed shortly after by a loss of consciousness. The human mind was a strange, simple thing, granting oblivion to those who couldn’t accept reality. Though that saved them from further torment, Cathay had no use for one who couldn’t fight back let alone scream. There was no enjoyment in that. 

That left Miss Number Three. The ringleader of the trio, the first two followed her orders without question, and a quick peek into her mind showed that this had been the norm for years. Despite the questionable passivity of many of Ravencroft’s residences, this troublesome trio were more direct than others. So much so that when they ‘forced’ Cathay into an alleyway for a “quick chat” she was already aware of the many bodies to their names. A small gang if anything, they would have done away with the Ruler were she their normal set of prey. 

How quickly they all broke when the tables were turned against them. How loud they pleaded for mercy when now their lives were in danger. But such a thing hardly existed in the Depths, and Cathay was no saint. Nothing of that manner had ever been practiced by her in full. Besides, were the situations reversed she highly doubted she’d receive any form of charity herself.  

No mercy for the merciless. 

Perhaps Valerie wouldn’t be too torn over having a promise minorly broken. 

Cathay had been threatened after all. This had to be considered ‘fair game’. 

But before the Ruler could help herself to her little, if not rather greasy, morsel she was interrupted; a chill running down her spine. Lowering her hand and turning her attention away from her prey, Cathay exhaled a single breath only to watch as it became perceivable. While not one to be bothered by sudden drops in temperature she knew the world around her had grown colder. In a way it resembled the cold of her domain, brought forth into the main universe. The Chill of the Deep. A cold that could rival that of the Void. 

Immediately she was aware of the reasons. Sighing in exasperation the molten eyes behind the Ruler’s shades shined brighter as she forced Ordegash out into the open, her influence vastly exceeding his. “I don’t much appreciate being pulled away from my fun, Pale One. Especially when all I see is overblown theatrics to signal your arrival.” 

As always with their sudden emergence, the world around Cathay came to a halt. Time and space grew stagnant as the land itself seemed to pulse in a misbegotten representation of life. The walls of the alleyway shuttered and shrunk away leaving only a flat surface of where they used to be. A trick of the senses, a product of being temporarily torn away from reality. A dimensional marble where a Primal such as Ordegash could converse freely, without worry of harming the city of Ravencroft with their presence. 

But rather than the monstrous, pale form one might expect the pulsating world came together to form something… different. 

An almost humanoid shape brought together through marbled flesh, adorned in the vestige of a suit that had seen better days. Old even for the false appearance of a human, with hardly any hair on top of a bald head, the sane would mistake such an appearance as monstrous. In Ravencroft however, it was finely along the lines of ‘normal’. Even their eyes, pitch black holes of nothing, were a trait too common among some residences. 

“Oh, someone’s done their homework.” Cathay couldn’t deny that as far as disguises go she would have chosen something different for Ordegash. But the Primal went above and beyond trying to fit in to the standards of so many of Ravencroft’s citizen. They indeed seemed to belong here among the grotesque. “Now that is an impressive form of yours. Truly, you are vomit inducing.” 

There was a low raspy chuckle, barely a whisper that came from within Ordegash’s ‘human’ throat. “You wound me, my Ruler. Rude. Expected. This one had hoped the form was pleasing.” 

Ordegash bowed their head in respect, never making direct eye contact with their Ruler. Even then, she could feel his normally sightless gaze upon the humans she had tormented. Still alive and in motion, but now no longer aware of what was happening around them. Their minds however were broken, a victim to the sudden change of the world around them. “Ah. My apologies. The weak ones broke. Fragile minds, weaker bodies.” 

“I will repair them in your stead.” 

Turning her attention to the woman still in her clutches, now a drooling mess with nary a thought behind her eyes, Cathay shrugged. Raising her hand to her mouth once more she unceremoniously tossed the altered human into her mouth, savoring the woman’s taste, maneuvering them with her tongue, before swallowing them whole, clothes and all. With a turn to face Ordegash she applied more pressure to her heel, quickly popping the bloated man beneath her boot. A sudden crunch was all that signaled their demise, and a red stain would be all that remained of their existence. 

“No need, they’re already broken.” Cathay stated without an ounce of guilt in her voice. “ There’s no use for a broken mind. Even then my promise remains intact. These unfortunate souls were already as good as dead the moment they saw your shifting form. You’re more at fault here than I am.”

Ordegash said nothing for some time before sighing, weighing the words of his master. “So.. it would seem.” 

It would serve them better to not argue with the Archfiend. 

With her attention away from the last, living assailant Cathay’s full focus fell on Ordegash. Though she was able to wipe out two troublesome apes her fun of the matter was still interrupted. That, she did not appreciate. “Pale God, you better have a good reason for leaving your station to bother me. Weren’t you to plan the path for mankind’s cultivation before bringing it to my attention?”

Though her tone was one of disinterest, for the keen of eye and ear there was evidence of displeasure in Cathay’s voice. To not have progress desired by her was borderline suicide. That said there was not even a single droplet of fear felt within the Pale God’s entire being. With their eyes still refusing to meet the Ruler’s, Ordegash spoke. 

“There are… complications,” one voice stated.

“Obstacles,” another, louder voice, added. 

“One task far more delicate than the other.”

Cathay wanted to groan. She knew her reprieve on Earth would not be eternal, but even then she wished it would have lasted just a smidgen longer before she needed to return to her duties. Ordegash was powerful and certainly stronger than some of their peers, barring Cathay herself of course. If this was a matter that needed to be brought to her attention then she couldn’t risk ignoring it. Especially if it was meant to work towards man’s eventual rise in power. Turning on her heel, and brutalizing the stain that was already upon it further, the Ruler turned her back towards the Primordial being. “Fine, just send me an invoice or something when I get home. That’s how the primates here do things I think. If I hear of any issue now you’re likely to end up as a victim of my temper. I’ll deal with the lesser of the two issues first.” 

The world around the two Primal’s quickly returned to its former shape, repaired and reformed with not a single soul within Ravencroft aware as to what had happened. Her mind elsewhere however, Cathay had forgotten the last of her victims, only recalling their existence the moment her stride caught their body. The very same boot which had crushed their horizontally challenged companion, now stained on the sole as well as the heel. The crunch was the only indicator that drew the Archfiend’s attention towards the grim sight, but still she did not feel guilt. 

What Valerie did not know would not hurt her. And besides, as the trio had tried to threaten the Ruler with a weapon this was still technically self defense. No harm, no foul, even if one of the kills was an accident. 

Cathay looked back at her fellow Primal only to find them shaking their head in their hand. Snapping her fingers, the Ruler drew Ordegash’s attention back towards her. “I know this wasn’t your duty, but could you be a dear and take care of the mess here?” Of course Cathay could handle the issue herself easily. But there was no real reason for her to do so seeing as another of similar qualifications was near. 

Once more the Pale God fell silent, contemplating their words carefully. “Of course, my Ruler.” Clear and straight to the point, they knew better than to go against an order. “It will be done.”

With a smile Cathay turned away again, ready to head on home. 

“Oh! One more thing!” 

She did not turn to address the Primal Depthborn. Even still, Ordegash knew what the Ruler planned to ask. It still did not help to ease their worries however. Though they knew cultivation was ideal for the path of man the process foreseen would be dangerous and taxing for all parties involved. Man would not be spoon fed their evolution, but it would be guided down the right path to walk in need be. All the primitive species needed was bait to serve as a lure. An incentive. 

“Seeing as my searching for them would draw too much unwanted attention, I need you to find the location of one of my old tablets. Mankind will need a good shield from outside forces.” 

“I don’t want rival kingdoms in MY business during this delicate period.” 

Ordegash said nothing. There was no reason to argue. The path was set, and the Ruler's will would be done.