Yet to say this battle did not affect the Earth would have been lying. Children were born without eyes, volcanos erupted in the sea as well as long-lost mountain ranges, earthquakes toppled cities, and whole swaths of the Tunneler race died off. I’d invited the Devil to sit down at our table and the consequences were not easily dismissed.
In a terrible moment, I wondered if this fight would last for aeons, destroying much of the universe before finally being settled. After all, I had no idea how long it had taken Cthulhu to defeat Oroarchan during their first battle, and that had been waged with many Great Old Ones against one. This might even prove to be worse than letting Oroarchan go free, because the being was a plague on the universe, but it killed slowly.
Almost as soon as it had begun, the fight was over. The sea of living water collapsed into a gigantic lake of inanimate fluid. Cthulhu had triumphed over its opponent, though it did not seem triumphant. Pointless as it was to read emotions into a being that wasn’t even physically there, I thought the most powerful of the Great Old Ones seemed weary.
The fog proceeded to produce four more shadowy figures. They were Great Old Ones of the same substance and species as Cthulhu, reminding me that the inhabitants of ancient R’lyeh hadn’t been Cthulhu alone, but his entire race. I fancied these to be Cthulhu’s sons and daughters, though I admit this to be nothing more than a fancy on my part. The five Great Old Ones moved to form a pentagram-like position around the Tower of Zhaal, which compelled me to grab both Mercury as well as August. Marcus was nowhere to be found, and he could move anywhere he wanted anyway.
Both Mercury and August were limp, comatose figures in my arms, but knowing the alternative was to be subject to whatever these terrible beings were planning, I leapt over the side of the tower with them both before transforming into a winged creature similar to a byakhee. I settled on a distant desert patch where the edges of Oroarchan’s form had created an artificial beach. There, I looked back to see the five Great Old Ones work perilous magic upon the Tower of Zhaal.
The Yithians’ own advanced work and sorcery was cast aside, to be replaced with something far sturdier. The Re’Kithnid’s claims of benevolent Great Old Ones now seemed far less insane. I saw the Tower of Zhaal vanish into the mists, once more leaving this reality, and hoped it would never be seen again upon this Earth. The four Great Old Ones that had accompanied Cthulhu also disappeared, returning to whatever distant parts of the universe or dimensions they hailed from.
Cthulhu himself remained. The rugose horror lifted its flabby claws into the air and the ocean at my feet slowly rose into the sky before spreading around the planet. The waters that had comprised their foe’s body transformed into rain across the planet, and where its droplets fell, strange new mutant plant life grew. Humanity might perish over the next few decades, but through this act of divine providence, the Earth would recover and produce new life in future centuries.
I stood in awe.
That was when I felt Great Cthulhu’s gaze turn upon me, and there was a single moment where I felt the entire universe’s attention.
Cthulhu spoke, its psychic presence translating to English. “I know you.”
With that, Cthulhu vanished as well.
And the world was silent.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The fog receded from the tower where the Unimaginable Horror had been kept. The Horror was buried now, returned to the recesses of the cosmos, and now marked with spells that would keep it imprisoned for the next hundred million years.
I suspected Great Cthulhu’s spellcasting would prove far more formidable than the Yithians’, and we would not encounter Oroarchan again in humanity’s racial lifetime. Still, I did not feel triumphant. Sitting there, surrounded by the dust and destruction, all I could do was weep like a child. Mercury was cradled on my lap, her eyes vacant as she stared up into the sky. There was no hint of consciousness in them. Mercury had looked into the eyes of the abyss and the abyss had pulled her into its yawning depths. My lover was catatonic, hopelessly so, the result of her psychic sensitivity making her vulnerable to the backlash of the two Great Old Ones’ battle.
August sat off to the side, equally broken by the experience, his arms folded around his legs as he giggled. His mind was shattered, torn to shreds in a different but still devastating way. I spared him not a moment of grief, for my heart was too full of Mercury’s absence, but August’s seemed a poor reward for his heroism this day. I could not imagine a worse fate for the proud man than to be condemned to live as a shell of his former self.
My only comfort, if it might be called such, was that neither party would be able to survive long in their sorry state. The Wasteland was a harsh mistress and would claim them, as it did all humans. If I’d had a gun, I would have put it to my head and pulled the trigger. The weight of this dreadful week was too much for me. I’d vowed to live, no matter what, but that promise seemed to be an empty distant memory. I did this, in part, for Mercury’s sake, and her absence from my life in spirit, if not body, was too much to take. Even if she could never accept me for what I was, I loved her and always would.
So I just held her tightly.
“Thankfully, John, this is not that kind of story,” Marcus’s voice spoke nearby, and my attention turned to him.
The nine-foot-tall academic was standing there with his arms folded over a bronze Cthulhu-idol-tipped cane. He was looking amused, which infuriated me.
“You,” I said, spitting, my nose running and my eyes red with tears. “Haven’t you wreaked enough havoc? You’ve cost me everything.”
“The universe is a tale of cosmic horror,” Marcus said, walking toward me and sitting down on one knee. “It is a place of pitiless gods, endless monsters, and an environment as stark as any hell dreamed of by theologians. There is no release from this fundamental truism that nothing we do in such a place matters.”
I stared at him, broken in mind as well as spirit.
Marcus then raised his forefinger as if to shush a child. “So, that means all that matters is what we do.”
He reached over and placed his hand on Mercury’s forehead. Her eyes gradually cleared and awareness returned to them. She seemed confused, opened her mouth, tried to say something, and fell asleep.
I stared at her and then looked up at Marcus, tears falling down my face. “Thank you.”
“Think nothing of it,” Marcus said, getting up to do the same to August. “It would, perhaps, be a kinder thing to slit her throat and then yours. However, it is the nature of humans to fight against death. By mistake, accident, or design—you are a most wonderful species.”
“I am not human,” I said, admitting what I’d been in denial of this entire time.
“You are whatever you choose to define yourself as. Only you can say who and what you are. That is a truism of all life everywhere.”
“It is perhaps not so bad a thing to be an alien,” I said, looking out into the darkness and gently placing Mercury on the ground. “A century ago, Cthulhu destroyed the Earth. A few minutes ago, he saved it.”
“He’s a funny little squid-dragon. If you think about it, he’s every bit as irrelevant as we are, but fights against a universe that seeks to make him so.”
“I suppose he is.” I let out a bitter chuckle. “What’s going to happen now?”
“Life will go on. The Unimaginable Horror is dead, but sleeping as before. It is linked to every being on Earth with water in its veins, however. Through that connection, it will continue to influence life, and will bring back the dead in the hope of restoring itself. Such an endeavor will take aeons, though. The Faceless Ones who worshiped Oroarchan are all dead, and so are many of its Reanimated pawns. Only the ones here, though. It has many more spread around the Earth.”
“Not much of a victory then.” It was as I expected.
“That depends on how you measure such things. You should be proud, John. In more than half of the universes where events came to this climax, the races of Earth wer
e saved and the Unimaginable Horror was contained. It is quite vexed about this.”
Marcus was, of course, speaking of the fact this was a conflict playing out across multiple parallel realities. I couldn’t forget waking up next to my own corpse and being told that I’d been shuffled to a dimension almost identical to my previous one—and the one I’d left behind was now destroyed.
It didn’t surprise me in the slightest to find out this conflict wasn’t limited to two such dimensions. I wondered how many Marcus Whateleys and how many John Henry Booths fought against the Unimaginable Horror. Twenty? A hundred? A trillion? Did it matter? The very existence of other realities made me question my identity as a unique being. Then again, I suppose it didn’t matter as long as we’d won. We’d witnessed a high noon duel between Cthulhu and Oroarchan, and the first of the Great Old Ones was the fastest gun in the New East. That was a reality worth living in.
Sort of.
“Wait. Only half?” I asked, staring. “You’ll forgive me if I find the kind of large-scale planetary genocide you’re describing less than comforting.”
Marcus closed his eyes and lowered his head. “People want stories where good triumphs over evil and there are no costs. I do not believe in such things. Instead, I think survival is its own reward. Where life finds a way, there is hope, and you should take comfort in that alone. Your doppelgängers on other worlds do.”
“I am not them.”
Marcus opened his eyes. “No, I suppose not.”
“Do you have any plans now?” It was a strange question to answer what amounted to Marcus Whateley’s ghost, but I didn’t know if he believed he would go off to some brightly lit heaven or sink into oblivion.
Marcus had an answer, though, at least for himself. “I intend to join my ancestor, Yog-Sothoth, in his dimension. While my knowledge of quantum mechanics and applied hyper-mathematics allowed me to cheat death for a time, I am no longer a part of this world. Does R’thugh’cruan wish me to convey the Eyes of Yog-Sothoth a message?”
I looked down. It was difficult to think of them as my people now but I strangely did. I was both human and Kastro’vaal. I wanted both races to survive, as unlikely as such a thing was. “I’d love for you to convey my sadness at their plight and hope they find some measure of peace eventually.”
There was no point in being angry about my situation anymore. I was something other than human now, and denial would serve no purpose. The powers I’d gain from my transformation into an Eye of Yog-Sothoth had saved lives, perhaps the world. R’thugh’cruan was the reason I hadn’t had my mind blasted to dust by watching the battle between Cthulhu and Oroarchan. R’thugh’cruan and I were beings alike. We lusted for battle, war, mates, pleasure, and family. Perhaps there was something to Marcus’s statement that we were all a little bit human.
“A very mature response,” Marcus said, smiling. “Farewell, John. I’m sure you’ll be able to work it out with Mercury in the end. Saving the world has to have won points with her. Life is too short to carry grudges over who is a monster and who isn’t.”
“Clearly, you don’t know Mercury.” I had faith we would be together, though. Whether I was human or not.
“I admit to never having feelings for the opposite sex that way, or for any being in such a manner. Asexuality has proven a significant time-saver.”
A sudden grip of panic seized my chest and I found it difficult to breathe. There were questions I needed answers to. Ones Marcus may or may not possess insight into, but which I had little to lose by asking.
“Before you go,” I started to say, “I’d like to ask you something. Your peculiar relationship with time allows you to see the future, right?”
Marcus seemed uncomfortable and frowned. “To some extent. The future is a matter of perception. It’s an infinite number of roads, the others becoming invisible once you start walking down a path. They’re still there, waiting for you to take a turn onto them.”
The present was bad enough, as was everything which had led up to it. The quest to bind the Unimaginable Horror had been a struggle with terrible consequences. Jessica was dead and I wasn’t sure if there was any cure for that, even in this insane world. Other members of my group had died horribly fighting against the Unimaginable Horror. Thom, Bobbie, and Mathew all deserved better than they’d gotten. But didn’t we all? Hell, I wasn’t sure Bobbie was actually dead since she’d recovered from terrible wounds before. I would have to rescue Jackie from the University since I didn’t think they would honor any deals now that the Unimaginable Horror was dealt with. All of that I could deal with, though. I just had one question. “Do I destroy humanity to resurrect the Kastro’vaal race? Is there truly no hope for mankind? Am I to be the instrument of one of my races’ end?”
Marcus burst out laughing.
I narrowed my gaze. “I find this to be no laughing matter.”
Marcus stopped laughing before giving a light snort. “No, you wouldn’t, would you? Nyarlathotep has a way of getting into the minds of beings. He thinks he expands their consciousness, but more often fries them like eggs.”
I stared at him blankly.
Marcus sighed, his voice wistful. “John, do you have children?”
“Yes.” I wondered why people kept asking me that.
“You will have more. Jackie, Anita, and your son Gabriel will also breed. The essence of the Kastro’vaal race is inside you. Whether through your adopted offspring or those of blood. Humanity will go extinct, but its descendants will carry on its legacy.” Marcus conjured the Death card from the Tarot deck between his fingers like a magician.
“Can it be that simple?” I asked, not daring to hope.
“No, but we can pretend it is,” Marcus said. “Humanity may destroy itself, too, and the Kastro’vaal may be trapped forever. You may also be overwhelmed by what’s inside you as the Kastro’vaal were a lusty, conquest-minded race who forced countless races to serve them as slaves and concubines. You may be a worse monster as a human than you ever were as a hybrid. Reality is flexible that way. Still, it’s a perfectly good planet. Why waste it?”
“The planet is a little beaten up. I’d hesitate to call it perfectly good.”
“Bah!” Marcus said. “Just a few dents here and there. Nothing that can’t be banged out. In any case, I must leave. I promised I would return to the Insmaw, and I will, but after that, I am leaving this world. I am dead, after all, and that requires certain appointments. Wilbur deserves his freedom as well.”
“Thank you. I wish you well on your trip to the undiscovered country.”
“Death is not undiscovered. It’s a road well-traveled. Adios, pardner.” Marcus vanished into the ether without saying another word. One moment he was there, the next minute he wasn’t.
I blinked, realizing I hadn’t asked about how to avert humanity’s destruction in three generations. I doubted Marcus would have given me a straight answer, but it bothered me that I’d been so wrapped up in myself I’d not asked.
In the end, the future was uncertain but perhaps that’s how it was meant to be. I turned back to Mercury and August. She was awake now, climbing to her feet and looking bewildered. August was yawning. We were far away from civilization, trapped in the middle of the desert, with no supplies or vehicles. I wasn’t worried, though. We’d survived much worse, and I was a little more comfortable using my “unnatural” abilities to help us. We would survive and that was enough.
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