After a tedious, troubling life of bondage, Javy had finally morphed from a squirming larva to a beautiful butterfly. She had become an independent, free-roaming entity, yet she was part of the greater universal whole, a single energetic atom in a being of endless, godlike potential. All her life she had been shackled and caged, imprisoned by the onerous limitations of a terrestrial mammal, and now finally, ultimately, she was liberated and with liberation came deliverance from fear, paranoia, ego, jealousy, frustration, insecurity…in fact, all the petty, confining, self-defeating mechanisms of humankind.

The sea had called to her all her life.

And now, here in this place at the bottom of the ancient lake, she had answered the summons. She had slid down the rabbit hole like Alice and discovered a wonderful new reality.

I am here. I am now. I have always been.

Her genetic inheritance was her godhood and her purpose. She would make sacrifice at its cloven, webbed feet and be made one with it as it had been countless millennia before and would be again.

In the labyrinthine depths of the great sunken city, the leviathan had taken her. Here, she had shed her skin, releasing the beautiful, primordial organism within. It was like breathing for the first time. There was no anxiety in this place, only serenity because the grand, primeval blueprint for planet Earth was made known to her and she understood her place in it.

Those creatures that men and women feared with hysterical terror accepted her. They had been known by many names—Old Ones, Elder Things, Crinoids, and countless other meaningless titles. Bogies. Yes, I remember they were called bogies. But they were the engineers, the makers and creators, the cosmic farmers of the helix. They made the city as they had made all life on Earth and developed a simple intelligence in Pliocene apes that led to mankind, who were their crops, their sheep, a race that existed to be harvested, drained dry like a global battery.

The time was near.

Then she would call out in a siren’s voice to her brothers and sisters that hid amongst the secret, sunken reefs and dwelled in the ruins of their abyssal crystalline cities. And, together, they would call forth and worship Father Dagon and Mother Hydra. Great Cthulhu would rise from his sunken tomb on R’yleh as the Dark Messenger had prophesied and Yog-Sothoth would throw open the gates and the songs of the King in Yellow would be heard once again.

Knowing these things, content that the time of her spawning was nearing, she swam through the cyclopean maze of the city, through tunnels and tangled passageways until she found the hidden birth-chamber of Leviathan.

I am here, Mother. I am here.