Hundreds of voices had screamed for their Mother at once before falling silent.
Her psychic-nodes had suddenly vanished, leaving her completely blind to an area of immense importance: the place where she had first entered into this world.
But worst of all, the world-gate that sustained her existence, had been damaged: Her sudden, noticeably weakened state serving as undeniable proof.
Fear was not something the Mother was familiar with. Yes, the pitifully weak creatures, the 'Humans' that she and her children had taken this world from had come close to killing her once, and would have succeeded, had it not been for her spy.
But now, with potential danger so close to what was essentially her heart, a sense of panic began to well up within, and the Lovecraftian horror roared in anger: commanding a great number of her children to descend upon the place of her birth in this dimension.
With her own safety assured, the towering monstrosity returned its attention to the next world, the one that the human female had opened the way to by accident, by mere...chance.
But of course, no such concept existed. All things followed patterns.
Especially things that were dimensionally related: inexplicably mirroring one-another through the vastness of time and space. A vastness that the Mother knew well.
Peering past the gate into the un-harvested 'Earth': the lone reflection of what this world- her world -had once been, she gave the order for her children there to begin hunting.
Her presence there beneath the ground needed to be fed in order to grow.