Amitiel Citadel, in the Frozen Vast near Saturn -
In the sanctuary of cold order and geometric perfection that was Amitiel's command center, Cthulhu's presence had settled like a contained storm, a promise of madness and primordial power that contrasted strangely with the serene light and pure lines of the Netlin architecture. Both titans contemplated the streams of energy flowing toward them from the distant inner solar system, a psychic feast reaped from the recent, orchestrated "victory" of the Lyran factions.
Amitiel, on his throne of crystal and intertwined shadows, was visibly satisfied, an expression of icy, calculated triumph on his inhumanly perfect features. "The 'set-up,' Great Old One," Amitiel projected, his mental voice resonating with the precision of a cosmic equation, "has exceeded our most optimistic expectations. The factions of Lira, in their despair and their short-lived euphoria at my 'defeat,' are broadcasting their own narrative of liberation. They could not be sowing more fertile ground for our true harvest."
Cthulhu emitted a series of guttural pulses, a resonance that rattled space itself, which Amitiel interpreted as profound satisfaction. < Both "enjoyed" this energy, not as mortals enjoy a banquet, but as cosmic singularities absorbing and processing the raw emotions of the universe. For Cthulhu, it was food that nourished his vast, alien consciousness, solidifying his anchor in this reality. For Amitiel, it was confirmation of the superiority of his strategy, fuel for the Grand Design of his Absolute Order.
After a moment of this dark communion, Cthulhu's attention turned to a more practical matter. His multidimensional "gaze" focused on Amitiel.
"And... the... conduit... to... the... minds... of Terra, Younger Brother Strategist," Cthulhu's voice boomed, filled with primordial impatience. *< Amitiel bowed his head slightly. "The Luciferian techno-priests and reality weavers of the Inner Circle are finalizing the psionic filtering matrices and frequency modulation, Great Dreamer. It will be operational shortly, ready to transmit your word to those designated on Terra." He paused. "Under what... guise will you present yourselves to them? As the new All-Seeing Eye, perhaps, replacing their former and now obsolete watchman that the Thirteen Families so revered and feared?"
A ripple of what could only be described as cold, alien amusement ran through Cthulhu's manifestation. < Cthulhu's facial tentacles twisted in what might be its equivalent of a thoughtful, terrible smile. < Cthulhu's "voice" took on an almost seductive quality in its cosmic horror. <>
Amitiel absorbed this new directive with a deep, almost religious reverence. The insidiousness of the plan was sublime. "A manifestation of omnipresence and apparent omniscience that will inspire absolute devotion born of terror, or a paralyzing terror that will be mistaken for peace,"
Amitiel replied, his eyes like cold quasars glowing with approval. "Both harvests are... eminently acceptable for the flourishing of the Grand Order. The 'Great Universal Brotherhood' we shall present to you will thus have its true, though invisible and omnipresent, spiritual guide."
The communication device would soon be ready. And with it, Cthulhu was preparing to present himself to humanity not as a conqueror, but as an insidious presence, a total and suffocating embrace from which there would be no escape. The new rules were about to be whispered into the ear of an unsuspecting planet.