A/N: I've been having some difficulties writing this week, so I was reading some Lovecraft, and then this weirdness happened. Enjoy!
It that Betrays hovered, but did not hover, immaterial in the Aether above the moving, yet stationary planes. The creatures that crawled upon them were unaware of the impending doom that was to come, while the planes themselves screamed in a voice only the enlightened could perceive, screamed at the figures of annihilation that were drawing ever nigh.
The Aether whirled in a path of vibrant energies, and It hated those energies, but also cared not for their comings or goings. The energy would do what it would do, what the patterns of what it had ever done dictated it must do. Such was the way of all things in the end, even down to the useless, unformed, unenlightened, unevolved specks that wandered about the screaming planes. Evolved or not, things did what they would do; they did what the patterns of what they had always done dictated they must do. Thus, what they will and what they must is aligned, and neither are true.
It saw, but not with eyes and their limited sight; It heard, but not with ears and their untrustworthy hearing. It saw and heard with the deepest aspects of Its eldritch being only truth, but such a truth that the minds of the lessor would be consumed.
The impression of Its foe drifted into the consciousness of It, who moved not to where the hunted was, but simply was; where It had been, It was not. The physical form that clothed It was but a shallow representation, and though It felt the spears that began to pierce Its hide, such a sense was beneath It, and It paid them no mind.
Enemy of the Thing stood in other physical form, but the consciousness of It extended out ever further than form could reach. Unmoving, the two fought; without sound, the two screamed.
The Enemy of the Thing did not run, but It fled, and on the plane where It had been, It was not. It that Betrays watched for a moment, though not a moment, with true eyes the workings of the inner plane before It was at the core. Into the depth of the screaming heart of the plane It reached, but not with hands, claws, or tooth. With a consciousness It moved out, with Its consciousness the plane fought, resisting, but such was always futile.
Consumed was the plane, the light, the energies, and one last voiceless scream echoed from the already forgotten world before it fell ever silent.
For a moment, It basked in the silence, in the utter annihilation of the world, in the void of pure emptiness in its absence. For a moment, for every moment, for no moment, there was only nothingness.
Then came the Aether, with its swirling energies that did both what they pleased and what they must, and the void was filled, as it always was, always had been, and always must be. The emptiness was gone, and, for a moment that was not a moment It mourned the loss.
Once again, It perceived the consciousness of Its foe; It perceived the station of a new world, screaming in fear and horror as annihilation approached.
It that Betrays was.