The Seal of Azathoth.

The Heart of Cthulhu.

Stillness had returned to the theatre and all natural sounds seemed to fade completely under the musical hum that scampered through the charged air. It made me feel like I was floating in a space outside of time. The silence was so great that I would have feared I’d gone deaf, if I didn’t recognize a second later that I could still hear my own ragged breathing.

Slowly, tenderly, I lifted my eyes to once more behold the Great One, glimmering in the candlelight like a viridian galaxy of stars before me. His wings seemed to pulse as he looked out beyond the empty seats.

“Riley?” I whispered. I cringed at how small my voice sounded, and if he heard me at all, he made no sign. I worked up my courage, and then tried again, “…Cthulhu?”

With a speed I never could have imagined possible for one so large, he whipped around to look down upon me. His nacreous eyes burned with imperial power, shining black with all colors and none. The depth of emotion that emanated from them made my breath hitch; it was as if they contained the concentrated essence of a million souls.

A giant fist came down before me, the stage boards cracking under its scintillating pressure, and his great weight shifted, making the building tremble. His other arm folded across his prismatic knee, and he leaned down over me, coming so close that the shimmering tentacles pooled in an effulgent mass of opalescence against the stage, inches from where I sprawled. I stared down at them, and I could feel the voltaic heat radiating from his vibrant body.

Was this going to be it? My heart leapt in my breast. Would he finally consume me now? I was ready. We would be joined, and the heart I possessed that was rightfully his would be returned where it belonged. He would be whole again, free, and I would be obliterated in his perfection. I wanted to get up, to offer myself to him properly, but my entire body felt limp and lifeless. Even in these last moments, I was failing him, unworthy even for consumption. I grimaced, hating myself for my weakness.

My expression seemed to have a strange effect on him—an emotion rippled across him that I could feel within me, our synchronicity stronger than ever. Anguish.

Slowly, I lifted my eyes. Even though his face was so alien to me, with the writhing mass of appendages and the great pupil-less eyes above, when my gaze finally locked with his, I understood the expression within as clearly as if he were human. He looked… afraid.

I held my breath, and watched as the fear dissipated after only a moment and shifted into something like confused concern. I frowned, my own confusion reflecting his.

What was he waiting for?