Weeks had passed since Joseph’s confrontation with the masked man who seems to be going by Defaced. A news article online had a picture posted of his latest killings, the word Defaced scrawled in blood in a two story home. Joseph felt it in the marrow of his bones that it was the masked man’s way of telling him his name. He had to think about a name for himself, it was a trivial thought and honestly it felt silly for him but he needed something. He did some very brief research if it could even be called that. A few internet searches on his phone regarding the nature of rituals, sacrifices, and the great unknown. After not landing on a solid lead he puts his phone down and sighs, he gives up looking for the perfect alias, for now.
Day turns to night and at night is when Joseph prowls the rooftops and alleys to make his presence known. He does good work taking care of thugs and drug dealers, ensuring they can never hurt anyone else ever again but there is an endless cycle he is unaware of. Take out one dealer, two more will take their place. He strips their minds of their sanity but any information he can glean from it adds up to nothing. He doesn’t have a secret super computer, he isn’t a detective and he has no connections, he is but a simple man wrapped up in extraordinary circumstances. For now all he can do is clean the streets of filth, making it safe for a few weeks until more degenerates spawn in.
However, tonight is different. Throughout the day a storm had been brewing off the coast of the city and it wasn’t until the sun fell down beneath the horizon that it started to move. Meteorologists will chalk it up to weather phenomena, the heat of the day time keeping the cold front from moving in. They do not know it is something beyond their understanding, beyond comprehension.
Joseph goes out into the rain to patrol, lightning shoots across the sky followed by the crack of thunder that echoes throughout the Hexington skyline. He feels anxious and he can’t quite understand why, it’s as if something is watching him, stalking him. It’s less of the feeling of a predator hunting its prey and more of an observer casting judgement on him and his actions. The pressure and anxiety get to him and he can no longer take it so he moves to a larger rooftop where he plans to confront who or whatever it is that is watching him.
The Hexington Galleria rooftop becomes the destination of this eventual confrontation. His feet splash in the water that builds up on the roof, fists clenching tightly with muscles tensing up to give him the strength to knock someone's head off.
”Whose there?! I know you’ve been watching me! Show yourself!!”
Lightning cracks again and for a moment he sees the form of a man in the sky. Hooded, with a cape and floating. His heart sinks, another super power individual has been stalking him, could they be friend or foe? The possibilities quickly race through his head as the individual descends from the sky, landing twenty feet away from Joseph. He can see him more clearly and the first thing he notices is the symbol on his chest. Within a circular border there is a cacophony of shapes and symbols but the one that stands out the most is the distinct shape of the letter “C”. Joseph looks down at his own chest, same circular border, different shapes and symbols but the apparent shape of the letter “A”. He looks up, the man has white glowing eyes and a full face black cowl like his own, his suit is identical to Joseph’s in every way save for the coloration, predominantly black but accented with blue instead of purple.
”Hey, did you end up with this power like I did? Some sort of messed up ritual? Look if you’re some sort of authority on this stuff just know I didn’t ask for this…”
The individual doesn’t move, just watches, unblinking. Joseph opens his mouth to speak again but is interrupted by the booming voice of this man.
”Ith'qu'na kaezh'uth sh'tha'nak y'mor k’thul‘bula.”
”Honesty in abundance will do you no favors.”
The foreign language ripples across his skin and the wrinkles of his brain. The words slip between the folds of his brain and the find purchase. Joseph understands them as clearly as day. He takes a few steps back, panicked by this revelation and clutching his chest. The individual tilts his head slightly, he understands that Joseph is reacting from the shock of understanding the words and not from his brain melting away. He begins to smack a few times as if trying to adjust his tongue.
”English then. Do you know your purpose, Key?”
Joseph shakes his head slowly. The individual takes notice of this.
”Then you will have been the fifth Key I have killed that has been ignorant in their existence. I take no pleasure in this, ignorant one, but your existence contradicts the goals of my master.”
”Master? Goals? Wait I’m just taking care of thugs and drug dealers there is also this man… guy… thing calling itself Defaced killing innocents! I have to stop him! Why are you trying to kill someone like me?!”
The man begins to hover, Joseph only now notices how tall the man really is and it's only because his fight or flight is triggering. He is taller than average, close to seven feet and is much more muscular than himself. A human body built for strength and power.
”I am Fathom, Avatar of Cthulhu. I shall make your death quick.”
Joseph has no time to respond as Fathom flies at him at a speed he has only seen in movies with cgi. The sickening crack of Fathom’s fist connecting to his face was almost enough to make him wish he was deaf. He goes skidding across the ground, quickly gathering himself and putting up his hands ready for a fist fight. His cape comes to life, Tendrils spreading out waiting for the next assault to come. Fathom sees this and holds out his hand, blue energy rides along the surface of his suit and coalesces in his palm that is facing Joseph.
He begins speaking in that strange language again, Joseph understands every word of it but it makes no sense. It doesn’t sound like he is talking to him but rather reciting something…
”Ia'ra azathor thul. N'kaihoth suar t'shoth mera q'rioth. Tulu ash'ra lyth k'thoth.”
”I seek to bring pain. An eternity of anguish lashing out in a brief moment. Rend the mind asunder.”
There is a bright flash of light, Joseph feels the outside of his chest burning, then inside and finally his back. His tendrils hit the ground with heavy thuds, splashing up water and blood, Joseph’s blood. He looks down to see a gaping hole in his chest and he doesn’t understand how it happened. This is his first encounter with magic, Eldritch Magic to be specific. The spell he was just struck with was a common spell known as Eldritch Blast, even humans who are keen with the Eldritch occult know this spell. Brian was one such man who knew how to cast this very same spell but he could have never hoped to achieve the same results as Fathom. When casted by a true Eldritch entity the spell becomes truly dangerous.
Joseph falls to his knees and then onto his side, staring at a large AC unit used for the galleria. Fathom’s own cape expands into tendrils and wraps himself up in them and then he is gone. Joseph lays there, facing his second death as the rain slowly subsides and he is left to lay in a watery pool of his own blood. If not for his supernatural powers he wouldn’t be clinging to life right now. His physical regeneration will not save him from this, he will die before the damage can be repaired. While laying there he is eventually kicked on his shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back. All he can see is rolling clouds and then the sound of footsteps in splishing water.
”That nuisance ran off faster than I expected. Oh well. So how are you doing down there, Joseph? Feeling well? A bit hollowed out? Haha! Sorry, a jab made at your current physical condition.”
Unbreathing, Joseph lays there, looking up at the Onyx Man who has a closed umbrella resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything because he can’t, without lungs he cannot draw in the breath needed to form words.
”Shame, You’ve only been an Avatar for about a month and some change and here you are, about to die, again. Lucky for you, I can save you! Or well, help you save you. Thanks to your whole run as a Hero, you’ve been feeding your Madness Mantle quite well. That's good because it makes this next lesson easy.”
Joseph is a captive audience to this strange being’s rambling. He wants him to get to the point and save him already. With open hands the Onyx Man moves them apart like he is physically revealing the word to Joseph.
”Magic!”
The Onyx Man walks away from looming over him and leans against one of the AC units on this foreboding rooftop.
”None of this makes sense to you and that’s what makes this so fun. I don’t care about helping you because you’re the Key, I’m not even doing this to slight Fathom or my nephew. I’m doing this to watch chaos unfold. You are the stick in the spoke of the wheel of things my soon to be new friend. You ordinary man who has grasped power not meant for him. Your outlook on things will make everything that will happen so much more entertaining.”
Joseph only looks at him, frowning because he wants to be helped as soon as possible and this strange man is just babbling on about things that make no sense to him.
”Why are you- Oh right! The Magic! I’m supposed to teach you how to help yourself. You see, there are many forms of magic in the many worlds, all of them have their own ways of being used and you cannot scam magic. Oh she is an attentive scamp. You must follow it to the “T”. Blood Magic needs blood, rune magic needs runes, soul magic needs souls, etc, etc. Our magic needs Sanity.”
The Onyx Man pushes himself off the AC and begins pacing around Joseph.
”Our magic is old, older than this rock called Earth, older than this Solar System named Sol. Our magic precedes your gods and goddesses and your understanding as a human, but you are no mere human, not anymore. Now, do as I say, To. The. Letter.”
The tone of his voice has changed, it is more menacing and a hint of pride is in it as well as he discusses “their” magic. He stops on Joseph’s right side and crouches down beside him.
”Now, reach. To the sky.”
Joseph raises his hand, envisioning himself touching the sky. The Onyx Man nods but his expression does not change.
”Good, now reach further, past the clouds. Gooood… Now, beyond this planet, reach for its moon… Excellent, but you have so much further to go… Ah, yes, the stars, reach for them…”
Then his voice distorts, it sounds monstrous for a moment and in that moment the Onyx Man briefly appears to be something else entirely. No longer a man, but a monster. Joseph glimpses this because he is on the precipice of something great. Then, with a monstrous, distorted voice that would kill a mere mortal if they heard it the Onyx Man speaks his final words.
”Now reach behind them…”
Joseph’s eyes glow brightly and a surge of purple energy encapsulates him and when it is over he gasps heavily, sitting up and touching his chest. He is fully healed and the Onyx Man is nowhere to be seen. He stands up, relaxing his tendrils back into the form of a cape and his mind runs rampant with information. A new segment of his Avatar powers are unlocked thanks to the Onyx Man’s meddling. Joseph has now attained magic. Sadly it is limited by his imagination, more pressure and stress must be applied if he is to learn more spells. However he does have immediate access to a few. Flight, healing, and thanks to Fathom Eldritch Blast.
Joseph has experienced death for the second time, at least this time he didn’t slip fully into its cold embrace. He remains seated on the ground, the smell of rain still lingering in the air as he tries to come to grips with what just happened. Magic is real and exists in their world, how many Outliers truly gained their powers from Panacea and how many are just magic users who don’t have to be secretive about their craft anymore? This is way above his head, he has been thrust into a world that he cannot begin to understand, no right now. Who are Fathom and the strange Onyx Man? They seem to have different goals and they keep calling him The Key, but the key to what?
While ancient knowledge was imprinted into his mind he doesn’t know how to access it unless guided to it or he is mentally pressed. Maybe the true purpose for this power resides in his mind, but he’ll need to find a way to shake it free. He stands to his feet and like a natural reflex he begins to float above the water pooling on the rooftop. Just as he can control his Tendrils like its second nature so too can he control his magic in the same way. The string of words he must spin together to cast the healing spell and to cast Eldritch Blast are clear as day to him as well but nothing else, for now.
Getting caught up in all this occult nonsense gives him an idea, maybe he needs to start looking for answers from others who dabble in it. The occult… One who practices the occult would be known as an-
”Occultist…”
He says the word out loud and it seems as if he has found it, his alias. He takes time to practice his ability to fly, zipping around the city freely. He is like a child with a new toy, beneath his mask he is all smiles and joy. It is pure insanity how he is able to bounce back so easily from almost being killed and meeting an Eldritch entity who taught him about magic. Can Joseph still truly call himself sane? The deeper he sinks the more sanity he loses…
Elsewhere…
”Mr. Howardson, we’ve finally got a ping on the one who became the Avatar of Azathoth. It seems like he just tapped into his magical abilities. It looks like Fathom was also recently active in the city as well, they could have encountered one another.”
In one of the larger towers of Hexington City, at its top floor, and in a particular office a man in a tan suit delivers a report to another who is sitting in a leather swivel chair, looking out at his city. He fumbles with a strange trumpet shaped ring on his right index finger, his eyes looking left to right seeing if he can catch a glimpse of the Avatar of Azathoth somewhere in the night sky, polluted by artificial lights. His name is Thomas Howardson and his family legacy is deeply intertwined with this city.
”Two Avatars in my city at the same time. Something is orchestrating this…”
”What do you mean, sir?”
”Perhaps the powers that be no longer have a use for me and my family, despite the tributes and sacrifices we have given them. Have the Avatar of Dagon on standby to confront the Avatar of Azathoth soon.”
”Sir, if I may be so bold, if Fathom couldn’t kill him what chance could Tidal have against him?”
”The Azathoth Avatar has just learned magic, he is still green. Tidal should be able to subdue him and bring him to us where I can then enslave him, as I did with Tidal.”
The man speaking to Thomas remains silent. He is naturally in the know about these Eldritch Deities and the way Thomas speaks about enslaving their Avatars scares him. He is not fearful of Thomas but of what these Deities will do if they find out about what he is doing.
”Whenever the Azathoth Avatar comes across the Esixtli wearer, wait until their fight concludes then have Tidal strike to bring him in.”
The man in the tan suit nods and takes his leave from the office. Thomas Howardson remains in the office, still scanning the city skyline when he catches it, a brief glimpse of the Avatar of Azathoth. From right to left he follows the flying entity that is silhouetted in darkness until he is out of his view.
”I will possess The Key, no matter the cost. Then that Pantheon will have no choice but to kneel to me…”
[Next Issue: The Origins of Hexington City!!]
Day turns to night and at night is when Joseph prowls the rooftops and alleys to make his presence known. He does good work taking care of thugs and drug dealers, ensuring they can never hurt anyone else ever again but there is an endless cycle he is unaware of. Take out one dealer, two more will take their place. He strips their minds of their sanity but any information he can glean from it adds up to nothing. He doesn’t have a secret super computer, he isn’t a detective and he has no connections, he is but a simple man wrapped up in extraordinary circumstances. For now all he can do is clean the streets of filth, making it safe for a few weeks until more degenerates spawn in.
However, tonight is different. Throughout the day a storm had been brewing off the coast of the city and it wasn’t until the sun fell down beneath the horizon that it started to move. Meteorologists will chalk it up to weather phenomena, the heat of the day time keeping the cold front from moving in. They do not know it is something beyond their understanding, beyond comprehension.
Joseph goes out into the rain to patrol, lightning shoots across the sky followed by the crack of thunder that echoes throughout the Hexington skyline. He feels anxious and he can’t quite understand why, it’s as if something is watching him, stalking him. It’s less of the feeling of a predator hunting its prey and more of an observer casting judgement on him and his actions. The pressure and anxiety get to him and he can no longer take it so he moves to a larger rooftop where he plans to confront who or whatever it is that is watching him.
The Hexington Galleria rooftop becomes the destination of this eventual confrontation. His feet splash in the water that builds up on the roof, fists clenching tightly with muscles tensing up to give him the strength to knock someone's head off.
”Whose there?! I know you’ve been watching me! Show yourself!!”
Lightning cracks again and for a moment he sees the form of a man in the sky. Hooded, with a cape and floating. His heart sinks, another super power individual has been stalking him, could they be friend or foe? The possibilities quickly race through his head as the individual descends from the sky, landing twenty feet away from Joseph. He can see him more clearly and the first thing he notices is the symbol on his chest. Within a circular border there is a cacophony of shapes and symbols but the one that stands out the most is the distinct shape of the letter “C”. Joseph looks down at his own chest, same circular border, different shapes and symbols but the apparent shape of the letter “A”. He looks up, the man has white glowing eyes and a full face black cowl like his own, his suit is identical to Joseph’s in every way save for the coloration, predominantly black but accented with blue instead of purple.
”Hey, did you end up with this power like I did? Some sort of messed up ritual? Look if you’re some sort of authority on this stuff just know I didn’t ask for this…”
The individual doesn’t move, just watches, unblinking. Joseph opens his mouth to speak again but is interrupted by the booming voice of this man.
”Ith'qu'na kaezh'uth sh'tha'nak y'mor k’thul‘bula.”
”Honesty in abundance will do you no favors.”
The foreign language ripples across his skin and the wrinkles of his brain. The words slip between the folds of his brain and the find purchase. Joseph understands them as clearly as day. He takes a few steps back, panicked by this revelation and clutching his chest. The individual tilts his head slightly, he understands that Joseph is reacting from the shock of understanding the words and not from his brain melting away. He begins to smack a few times as if trying to adjust his tongue.
”English then. Do you know your purpose, Key?”
Joseph shakes his head slowly. The individual takes notice of this.
”Then you will have been the fifth Key I have killed that has been ignorant in their existence. I take no pleasure in this, ignorant one, but your existence contradicts the goals of my master.”
”Master? Goals? Wait I’m just taking care of thugs and drug dealers there is also this man… guy… thing calling itself Defaced killing innocents! I have to stop him! Why are you trying to kill someone like me?!”
The man begins to hover, Joseph only now notices how tall the man really is and it's only because his fight or flight is triggering. He is taller than average, close to seven feet and is much more muscular than himself. A human body built for strength and power.
”I am Fathom, Avatar of Cthulhu. I shall make your death quick.”
Joseph has no time to respond as Fathom flies at him at a speed he has only seen in movies with cgi. The sickening crack of Fathom’s fist connecting to his face was almost enough to make him wish he was deaf. He goes skidding across the ground, quickly gathering himself and putting up his hands ready for a fist fight. His cape comes to life, Tendrils spreading out waiting for the next assault to come. Fathom sees this and holds out his hand, blue energy rides along the surface of his suit and coalesces in his palm that is facing Joseph.
He begins speaking in that strange language again, Joseph understands every word of it but it makes no sense. It doesn’t sound like he is talking to him but rather reciting something…
”Ia'ra azathor thul. N'kaihoth suar t'shoth mera q'rioth. Tulu ash'ra lyth k'thoth.”
”I seek to bring pain. An eternity of anguish lashing out in a brief moment. Rend the mind asunder.”
There is a bright flash of light, Joseph feels the outside of his chest burning, then inside and finally his back. His tendrils hit the ground with heavy thuds, splashing up water and blood, Joseph’s blood. He looks down to see a gaping hole in his chest and he doesn’t understand how it happened. This is his first encounter with magic, Eldritch Magic to be specific. The spell he was just struck with was a common spell known as Eldritch Blast, even humans who are keen with the Eldritch occult know this spell. Brian was one such man who knew how to cast this very same spell but he could have never hoped to achieve the same results as Fathom. When casted by a true Eldritch entity the spell becomes truly dangerous.
Joseph falls to his knees and then onto his side, staring at a large AC unit used for the galleria. Fathom’s own cape expands into tendrils and wraps himself up in them and then he is gone. Joseph lays there, facing his second death as the rain slowly subsides and he is left to lay in a watery pool of his own blood. If not for his supernatural powers he wouldn’t be clinging to life right now. His physical regeneration will not save him from this, he will die before the damage can be repaired. While laying there he is eventually kicked on his shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back. All he can see is rolling clouds and then the sound of footsteps in splishing water.
”That nuisance ran off faster than I expected. Oh well. So how are you doing down there, Joseph? Feeling well? A bit hollowed out? Haha! Sorry, a jab made at your current physical condition.”
Unbreathing, Joseph lays there, looking up at the Onyx Man who has a closed umbrella resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything because he can’t, without lungs he cannot draw in the breath needed to form words.
”Shame, You’ve only been an Avatar for about a month and some change and here you are, about to die, again. Lucky for you, I can save you! Or well, help you save you. Thanks to your whole run as a Hero, you’ve been feeding your Madness Mantle quite well. That's good because it makes this next lesson easy.”
Joseph is a captive audience to this strange being’s rambling. He wants him to get to the point and save him already. With open hands the Onyx Man moves them apart like he is physically revealing the word to Joseph.
”Magic!”
The Onyx Man walks away from looming over him and leans against one of the AC units on this foreboding rooftop.
”None of this makes sense to you and that’s what makes this so fun. I don’t care about helping you because you’re the Key, I’m not even doing this to slight Fathom or my nephew. I’m doing this to watch chaos unfold. You are the stick in the spoke of the wheel of things my soon to be new friend. You ordinary man who has grasped power not meant for him. Your outlook on things will make everything that will happen so much more entertaining.”
Joseph only looks at him, frowning because he wants to be helped as soon as possible and this strange man is just babbling on about things that make no sense to him.
”Why are you- Oh right! The Magic! I’m supposed to teach you how to help yourself. You see, there are many forms of magic in the many worlds, all of them have their own ways of being used and you cannot scam magic. Oh she is an attentive scamp. You must follow it to the “T”. Blood Magic needs blood, rune magic needs runes, soul magic needs souls, etc, etc. Our magic needs Sanity.”
The Onyx Man pushes himself off the AC and begins pacing around Joseph.
”Our magic is old, older than this rock called Earth, older than this Solar System named Sol. Our magic precedes your gods and goddesses and your understanding as a human, but you are no mere human, not anymore. Now, do as I say, To. The. Letter.”
The tone of his voice has changed, it is more menacing and a hint of pride is in it as well as he discusses “their” magic. He stops on Joseph’s right side and crouches down beside him.
”Now, reach. To the sky.”
Joseph raises his hand, envisioning himself touching the sky. The Onyx Man nods but his expression does not change.
”Good, now reach further, past the clouds. Gooood… Now, beyond this planet, reach for its moon… Excellent, but you have so much further to go… Ah, yes, the stars, reach for them…”
Then his voice distorts, it sounds monstrous for a moment and in that moment the Onyx Man briefly appears to be something else entirely. No longer a man, but a monster. Joseph glimpses this because he is on the precipice of something great. Then, with a monstrous, distorted voice that would kill a mere mortal if they heard it the Onyx Man speaks his final words.
”Now reach behind them…”
Joseph’s eyes glow brightly and a surge of purple energy encapsulates him and when it is over he gasps heavily, sitting up and touching his chest. He is fully healed and the Onyx Man is nowhere to be seen. He stands up, relaxing his tendrils back into the form of a cape and his mind runs rampant with information. A new segment of his Avatar powers are unlocked thanks to the Onyx Man’s meddling. Joseph has now attained magic. Sadly it is limited by his imagination, more pressure and stress must be applied if he is to learn more spells. However he does have immediate access to a few. Flight, healing, and thanks to Fathom Eldritch Blast.
Joseph has experienced death for the second time, at least this time he didn’t slip fully into its cold embrace. He remains seated on the ground, the smell of rain still lingering in the air as he tries to come to grips with what just happened. Magic is real and exists in their world, how many Outliers truly gained their powers from Panacea and how many are just magic users who don’t have to be secretive about their craft anymore? This is way above his head, he has been thrust into a world that he cannot begin to understand, no right now. Who are Fathom and the strange Onyx Man? They seem to have different goals and they keep calling him The Key, but the key to what?
While ancient knowledge was imprinted into his mind he doesn’t know how to access it unless guided to it or he is mentally pressed. Maybe the true purpose for this power resides in his mind, but he’ll need to find a way to shake it free. He stands to his feet and like a natural reflex he begins to float above the water pooling on the rooftop. Just as he can control his Tendrils like its second nature so too can he control his magic in the same way. The string of words he must spin together to cast the healing spell and to cast Eldritch Blast are clear as day to him as well but nothing else, for now.
Getting caught up in all this occult nonsense gives him an idea, maybe he needs to start looking for answers from others who dabble in it. The occult… One who practices the occult would be known as an-
”Occultist…”
He says the word out loud and it seems as if he has found it, his alias. He takes time to practice his ability to fly, zipping around the city freely. He is like a child with a new toy, beneath his mask he is all smiles and joy. It is pure insanity how he is able to bounce back so easily from almost being killed and meeting an Eldritch entity who taught him about magic. Can Joseph still truly call himself sane? The deeper he sinks the more sanity he loses…
Elsewhere…
”Mr. Howardson, we’ve finally got a ping on the one who became the Avatar of Azathoth. It seems like he just tapped into his magical abilities. It looks like Fathom was also recently active in the city as well, they could have encountered one another.”
In one of the larger towers of Hexington City, at its top floor, and in a particular office a man in a tan suit delivers a report to another who is sitting in a leather swivel chair, looking out at his city. He fumbles with a strange trumpet shaped ring on his right index finger, his eyes looking left to right seeing if he can catch a glimpse of the Avatar of Azathoth somewhere in the night sky, polluted by artificial lights. His name is Thomas Howardson and his family legacy is deeply intertwined with this city.
”Two Avatars in my city at the same time. Something is orchestrating this…”
”What do you mean, sir?”
”Perhaps the powers that be no longer have a use for me and my family, despite the tributes and sacrifices we have given them. Have the Avatar of Dagon on standby to confront the Avatar of Azathoth soon.”
”Sir, if I may be so bold, if Fathom couldn’t kill him what chance could Tidal have against him?”
”The Azathoth Avatar has just learned magic, he is still green. Tidal should be able to subdue him and bring him to us where I can then enslave him, as I did with Tidal.”
The man speaking to Thomas remains silent. He is naturally in the know about these Eldritch Deities and the way Thomas speaks about enslaving their Avatars scares him. He is not fearful of Thomas but of what these Deities will do if they find out about what he is doing.
”Whenever the Azathoth Avatar comes across the Esixtli wearer, wait until their fight concludes then have Tidal strike to bring him in.”
The man in the tan suit nods and takes his leave from the office. Thomas Howardson remains in the office, still scanning the city skyline when he catches it, a brief glimpse of the Avatar of Azathoth. From right to left he follows the flying entity that is silhouetted in darkness until he is out of his view.
”I will possess The Key, no matter the cost. Then that Pantheon will have no choice but to kneel to me…”
[Next Issue: The Origins of Hexington City!!]