Written by: Epicstu Wyyvernwriter

Inspired by H.P. Lovecraft

I am he. He is the crawling me. This truth I only assume to be the reason he came to me first. I am lost, but not taken. Why I still am at all I do not know. Perhaps he delights in the way my spectating affects me as I am now forced to watch all I know become something I can not recognize. He has taken away my material and left me myself immaterial and now I reside everywhere and nowhere only able to observe. This is what I have observed thus far.

It is widely believed by all that he came to all civilized Worlds within all Solar Systems within all Galaxies within all Realms within the entirety of our Multiverse omnipresently. Though I do not even know if that is true myself. What is known is that he came with blatant warning, like a blaring siren. All heard his twisted mumblings, but he wore a face all trusted so all believed his every word. All witnessed as he twisted our home, but he wore a face all trusted so all praised his deeds. He wore a face all trusted, so all willingly allowed him into their hearts, their minds, their very souls. By the time anyone saw through the Edward Michael Dimir mask he wore it was already to late. Nyarlathotep owns us all.

The Wyyvern Knights and the Wyyvern Agents bowed before him, yet could not understand why. He had made the Undead his before he had taken up residence within Edward. The End and his Horsemen fled before any of this had begun at all. The one who resisted, the Intellectually Mad Wyyvern, failed because he could not would not bring himself to put down even one of his Wyyvern brothers or sisters. It is he who recognizes Nyarlathotep’s one and only mistake. Nyarlathotep can not die. Only Hell can hold Nyarlathotep, however, the eternal prison is not what he fears rather he fears the one who resides within that prison.

* *

“Nyarlathotep lives within Edward Michael Dimir for this is the only way that Nyarlathotep can protect Edward Michael Dimir from Death, but Edward Michael Dimir can still die. When Edward Michael Dimir dies Edward Michael Dimir becomes Hell. Nyarlathotep lives within Edward Michael Dimir,” Q echoes the phrase repeatedly in a mumbling within Traces mind as Trace cleans the inside of Q’s barrel.

I notice the empty hooded cape’s restless demeanor, “I assume you have a plan.”

“Yes, Pip, we do,” William replies before suddenly driving me mad.

I begin to hear Q’s mumblings within my own mind and as Trace’s true form is revealed to me, “Yog Sothoth?” I shudder at the site of him and at my sudden knowing of the truth. Trace stands up, locks Q’s chamber back in place, and pulls William from the stone he had stabbed him into. Then he bows his head to me in greeting. I turn to the others; Leonidas, Snow, and Ember Fray, “we are going to need an army.”

“My hordes,” we find ourselves before the Devil’s throne, “are yours to command, but you may not command them all and you cannot take the Devourer or the Nine. Choose wisely,” he chuckles and sneers with an excited toothy grin. He is going to make us build our own army limiting us by the value of each and every unit. “Snow, you lived here,” I turn to our reformed Succubus. “What do we take?” With a determination in her eyes to rescue her Lady, Heaven, and the Fennec who gave her a second chance Snow flies high into the dankly dismal wailing skies of Hell to view our options. Zesrial had made her Commander of her Legions and had her trained for the job by the finest in her armies. It was time for her to put that training and rank to the test.

*          *

Every Wyyvern Knight and Wyyvern Agent following Nyarlathotep turns around and Nyarlathotep turns to see why, “Let her go, Bloody Tongue!” Vladamir Korvachoff demands with a furious rage in his eyes.

“Fitting that a Vampire would call me by that name,” Nyarlathotep cares not that Vladamir had seen through Edward to him. He holds Zesrial up, “you mean this city?” and sees Vladamir’s wrath increase. This makes him smile, “she is yours.” Then Loki backhands Vladamir to the ground as Nyarlathotep laughs at him. “If you can survive your hunter.”

Loki, the Wyyvern Knight of Law Order and Vampirism, stands before Vladamir as he slowly gets to his feet and watches Nyarlathotep leave with the others. “Coward,” Vladamir scoffs wiping the blood from his lips as his face heals over. “Hey, Alex. Uh, please don’t do this?” Loki swings the Wyyvern Bastard Sword of Vampirism down at him. Dodging and landing a solid left hook to Loki’s face, Vladamir shakes the vibration from his impact with Birtha, the Wyyvern Plate Armor of Law and Order, off his broken hand as it heals, “ow. Okay,” he spreads his wings to their full length and takes a stance beckoning Loki forward, “let’s go then.”