At this moment, in the Writer's Library.
The vast and indifferent Azathoth registered a jarring anomaly in the external cosmic field.
It had roused itself from its lazy, self-imposed slumber to check the status of its grand strategy—the subtle starving and destabilization of the Hyperverse.
Instead of seeing its plans being completed, it was greeted with the utterly unexpected sight of one of its newborn fragments, a simple cluster of instinct, having utterly ignored the core directive.
The newborn Outer One, instead of contributing to the systemic chaos, had plunged directly into the Hyperverse, forcing a physical confrontation.
Azathoth observed the tableau: the pathetic, terrified resistance of the combined Hyperverse deities against the chaotic output of the single, small fragment.
Azathoth was not angry at the disobedience; anger was a concept too limited for its scope.
Instead, a wave of conceptual surprise—the rarest of all cosmic experiences—washed over it.
