In the endless expanse of the Nexus plane's Outer Void, a realm devoid of light but teeming with an eerie, pulsating energy, resided the Cathulic Deities. Though akin in nature to the Outer Gods, they rejected that title, asserting their supremacy through their unique existence. At the apex of their hierarchy stood Nihila Herk, an entity whose presence alone could warp time and space, her very name whispered in reverence and dread.
Nihila's form was incomprehensible to mortal minds—a swirling mass of iridescent darkness, studded with glowing orbs that seemed to be eyes yet weren't. Her power extended like veins through the Nexus plane, binding the realms under her dominion. She rarely acted directly, preferring to wield her loyal subordinates as instruments of her will.
The first was Achillesial, known simply as Achilles—a figure of imposing strength and unyielding loyalty. He took the form of an unshakable teenager with mild appearance and caracteristical scars on his face, testimonies to his previous battles, wounds that could not be healed but overcome.
Then there was Noxinyargan, or Nox for short—a being of shadows and whispers, he was responsible of the intelligence, similar to Yog-Sothoth's library in the Outer Realm of Athena, Nox was often described as the Walking Library with boundless wisdom and knowledge.
Nihila reclined gracefully on her throne, a vast structure of ever-shifting starlight and celestial mist, her mind deep in thought. Her gaze, luminous and all-seeing, drifted across the infinite expanse of her domain, but her focus lay elsewhere—on him, her "brother." Though not truly related, Azathoth was the closest being to her in nature, a dark mirror of her existence. Where she nurtured order and connectivity, he embodied chaos and disintegration.
Eons ago, Azathoth had attempted a crossing over, an invasion of her plane with the aim of severing the Nexus from the multiverse, a catastrophic act that would have plunged all planes into irreversible collapse. The attempt had failed. Nihila and her allies had repelled him at great cost, sealing his power back within the Athena Plane.
But before his retreat, Azathoth had made a vow—a chilling promise that still echoed in her mind. He would return. His revenge would be swift, absolute, and devastating.
Yet, since that day, there had been only silence. No sign, no tremor in the multiverse, no disturbance suggesting his resurgence. But Nihila knew better than to believe he had been subdued. She could feel his shadow lingering on the edges of reality, a dormant storm gathering strength.
Her fingers tapped the armrest of her throne rhythmically, her mind calculating. "The calm before the storm," she murmured, her voice a soft chime against the endless void. "He always did enjoy his theatrics."
Nihila's thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of the chamber's massive, iridescent doors. She didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Achilles entered, his tall, lanky figure outlined against the glowing backdrop of the Nexus. He was a man of few words, his aura calm and understated, but his presence carried an edge—like a blade kept just sharp enough to remind you it existed.
"Yo," he said simply, walking up to her throne without a hint of ceremony.
Nihila raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. "Achilles. What brings you here? You're not usually one for small talk."
"Not here for small talk," he replied, handing her a crystalline slate with shifting images of distant planes. "It's the Athena Plane. There's movement. A lot of it."
Her luminous eyes narrowed as she took the slate, scanning the information. "Azathoth?"
"Maybe," Achilles said, leaning casually against one of the throne's shimmering pillars. "Something big's stirring. Could just be his lackeys screwing around. Could be him."
"And you waited until now to tell me this?" Nihila asked, her tone more curious than reproachful.
Achilles shrugged. "Figured you'd want all the details first. It's not like he's knocking on the front door... yet."
Nihila sighed, tapping her fingers against the slate as she processed the report. "If it's him, we need to act fast. If it's not, we can't tip our hand too early."
Achilles nodded, his expression unreadable. "You decide. Just letting you know what's out there." He said.
"Well let's ask Nox what he thinks..." She said, poiting towards the third and last Cathulic Deity; Noxinyargan.
Achilles stopped mid-step. "Fine. But I'm not dragging him here. You know how he gets."
Nihila waved her hand, and the image of Nox materialized before her, projected from the ethereal plane he occupied. The black-clad deity was sprawled across an old-fashioned leather couch, a thick book resting in his lap. He didn't bother to sit up, only glanced up lazily from the pages.
"You're interrupting," Nox said, his deep voice carrying a tone that was both apathetic and sardonic.
"Spare me your dramatics," Nihila replied, leaning forward slightly. "We need your take. Achilles brought news—there's activity in the Athena Plane."
Nox arched an eyebrow but didn't close his book. "Activity? You're going to need to be more specific if you expect me to care."
"Azathoth, maybe," Achilles cut in, his tone as casual as ever. "Or his underlings."
Nox tilted his head thoughtfully, his finger tracing the edge of the book. "Azathoth? He doesn't usually make noise unless he's serious. Last time he did, things got... messy." He finally closed the book, resting it on his lap. "So, what do you want from me? An analysis of his psychology? A prediction of his next move?"
"We want to know what you think it means," Nihila said firmly.
Nox's lips twitched into a faint smirk. "What it means is that your 'brother' might be bored again. Or worse—he's inspired. Either way, it's not good for us."
"So, what do we do?" Achilles asked, arms crossed.
Nox shrugged. "Prepare for the worst. Hope it's a false alarm. And if it's not?" His eyes glimmered faintly. "We remind him why he lost the first time."
Nihila nodded slowly, her expression resolute. "Thank you, Nox."
He leaned back into the couch, picking up his book again. "Sure. Just don't expect me to get up unless it's absolutely necessary."
With that, the image dissolved, and Nihila turned back to Achilles. "We prepare."
Achilles nodded. "We always do."
Nihila Herk, despite her status as the supreme being of the Nexus Plane, carried herself with an unassuming charm. Playful and approachable, she exuded warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold, cosmic authority of other deities. Nihila valued her power only insofar as it served her purpose: maintaining harmony among the myriad planes of existence under her dominion. She was not one to flaunt her strength, seeing it merely as a tool to preserve the intricate tapestry of the multiverse.
The Nexus Plane was no ordinary realm; it was the origin. Every timeline, every reality, every fragment of existence stemmed from this singular source. In essence, all planes of existence were derivatives, ripples in a cosmic pond originating from Nexus. Here, the fabric of reality was raw, unfiltered, and primordial—a living testament to creation itself.
Among these derivatives was the Athena Plane, a particularly grim manifestation of Nexus. Its existence was a shadowy reflection of the original timeline, a darker version born of Nihila's own suppressed alter-ego: Azathoth, the embodiment of chaos and destruction. Unlike Nihila's nurturing nature, Azathoth reveled in entropy, crafting Athena as a plane steeped in malevolence and despair.
Despite this connection, Nihila rarely dwelled on Athena's grim legacy. She focused instead on her role as custodian of the multiverse, ensuring that the planes remained stable and functional. Yet, deep down, she understood that the existence of Azathoth—and by extension, Athena—was a part of herself she could not ignore. And as disturbances rippled through the Nexus, emanating from Athena, Nihila couldn't help but feel a looming sense of responsibility.
"Let's be on guard from now on... Who knows what other shenanigans Azathoth might be onto this millennial." She proposed.
X―x―X—x—X―x―X
Alice leaned back in the leather seat of the Royce as it glided through the quiet evening streets. Jessie, seated in the driver's seat, glanced at her through the rearview mirror.
"The deed's done," Jessie said, breaking the silence. "Robert handled it cleanly. No loose ends."
"Good," Alice replied coldly, her voice even. "That's one less annoyance to deal with."
The towering gates of her mansion came into view, flanked by guards who saluted as the car passed through. Alice allowed herself a faint smile, her mind already on Roxanne.
Jessie brought the car to a smooth stop in front of the mansion's entrance. "Home sweet home," she said casually, opening Alice's door.
Alice stepped out gracefully, her silver hair shimmering under the soft glow of the mansion's lights. "You can leave for the night, Jessie. I'll handle things from here."
Jessie nodded and watched as Alice ascended the grand steps. She didn't need to say more—she knew Alice's focus was solely on her daughter now.
The moment Alice entered, Roxanne's excited giggles echoed through the halls. The little girl ran toward her, arms outstretched, a stuffed rabbit clutched in one hand.
"Mommy!" Roxanne squealed.
Alice knelt, catching her daughter in a warm embrace. All the coldness she displayed earlier melted away in an instant. "My little treasure," she murmured, holding Roxanne tightly. "Mommy's back, just like I promised."
Roxanne beamed, holding up her rabbit. "Mr. Fluffy missed you too!"
Alice chuckled softly and kissed her daughter's forehead. "I missed both of you. Now, let's go inside and tell me everything you've done today."
Hand in hand, they walked into the mansion, leaving the shadows of Alice's other life at the gates.
X―x―X—x—X―x―X
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