"Even in your thoughts, do not curse the king,
Nor in your bedroom curse the rich,
For a bird of the air will carry your voice,
Or some winged creature tell the matter."
- Ecclesiastes 10:20
The King found himself alone and nude. Darkness surrounded him, a depthless, inky blackness that was as disorienting as it was horrifying. Up and down had no meaning, and though he could feel ground beneath his feet, Ego could not discern if he were truly upright. There he stood, in that infinite abyss, lost and confused. He glanced to where his hands would be, but the darkness prevented him even that small comfort. Yet, as he gazed at his limbs, a faint glow pierced the veil. The light was coming from his left hand. Though Ego had desperately wanted light, upon seeing the source, he longed for nothing but the darkness to return.
There, emblazoned on his palm, was the mark of the Old One Hastur. A sickly yellow light exuded from the tendrils, which wrapped around his fingers like the tongues of snakes. A true fear like he hadn't felt in decades overcame him, and he collapsed to his knees. That only made matters worse, as the light from his hand illuminated what he had been standing upon. Flesh. Slick, black, rubbery flesh. The same as the tentacles that had ravaged Hell. Nauseated and unable to make a sound, the King instinctively moved his hand outwards to make use of the faint glow. As that damnable light cast aside the darkness, all the King could see was more coiled tendrils, no matter where he turned. There was no concept of how far the end was, if there was an end to be found. Multiple times did the Sanguine King choke back more vomit, only to begin muttering to himself in the darkness.
"Where… w-where am…"
"Interesting…"
The voice cut through the eerie silence, making Ego cower. It seemed to come from everywhere, even the tentacles below him. Ego didn't make a sound, didn't move, didn't dare to even breathe. The voice continued, a sultry, smooth voice. It was melodious, and would have been calming in many other circumstances.
"What a fine vessel. I can tell you're quite… study. Most mortals tend to break apart, sadly. So hard to find good help."
Suddenly a light illuminated in the distance. The source was far, far above, and the beam shone down like a stage light, revealing the form of a man sitting on an ornate throne about 20 feet away. He wore a gold colored wide-brimmed hat with a single red feather sticking out, and his matching yellow suit was immaculately kept. A pair of small, yellow-tinted reading glasses sat on his nose, and behind them were two scrutinizing eyes. Even from this distance, Ego felt like a slab of meat being eyed up by a tiger. In lieu of a word from the King, the man spoke again, smirking.
"Yes, too hard to find these days. I must say, finding that soul floating in the Void was very fortunate. He certainly has good taste, if I do say so myself!" The man chortled, sending shivers down Ego's spine. His laugh was jovial and warm, yet nothing was funny to the King at that moment. In barely a whisper, Ego spoke.
"...Hastur…"
The man raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly.
"Ah, it can even speak! Plus it knows me! Very good, introductions do get ever so boring. I suppose I should reveal that I know a good deal about you as well, Sanguine King."
With that he rose to his feet and began to walk towards the crouching imp. His heart began to race, and it took everything not to relieve his bowels out of fear.
"From one royal to another, I must say that you are very accomplished. Quite the rags-to-riches tale you have! Though as is often the case for those destined for greatness, the best is yet to come!"
The closer Hastur came, the more Ego's palm glowed, soon starting to cause a searing sensation. It felt as if the mark was digging into his skin, etching into his very bones. Tears welled in the King's eyes as Hastur came to a stop, towering above the demon. He looked down on him with malicious glee.
"Yes, my dear mortal, you have great things ahead of you! After all, you belong to me now! I can be quite the generous master…" He crouched down, taking Ego's face in his hand by the chin. They locked eyes, the darkness behind the Yellow King's glasses staring into Ego's being.
"You'll make a fine host in due time. For now, your old master is my puppet, but he's like the rest. A porcelain doll, so easily broken with use. Already his body is rotting under my influence. Yet you.." He pressed his index finger into Ego's cheek, who gasped as blood trickled down and landed on the tentacles below. The mass seemed to wriggle as the substance sank below. The King in Yellow removed his finger and chuckled to himself as the wound healed in moments. "...are much harder to break." Hastur leaned in, his nose nearly touching Ego's. "I know what you want, Ego. I can give her to you. You can both be safe. I guarantee that."
Ego was close to fainting, his blood running cold with anxiety and terror. The god before him became hazy as his vision began to blur. Hastur tutted and let go of the imp's face.
"Ah, we're short on time I'm afraid. No matter, we'll see each other again, King of Blood. Until then…" he winked, and the symbol in Ego's hand sent a stabbing pain into his mind. "I'll be watching."
Then, the darkness enveloped The Sanguine King once again.
Ego woke with a jolt, drenched in sweat. His heart felt like it would leap out of his chest. Instinctively he leapt forward, escaping from his stupor as he jumped face-first into a bedside table with a tremendous crash. The pain was nothing to him, his adrenaline was so intense. Before he could take in the nature of his surroundings, he heard footsteps coming from outside the dim room. Breaking off a leg from the table he had just assaulted, he brandished the splintered wood with animalistic ferocity. Slowly, a door opened in the darkness, and there stood…
Helsa von Eldritch, dressed in an evening gown and sporting a look of disgust on her face. A scowl appeared on her lips as she spoke.
"What the fuck did you do to our table?!"
For the first time since awakening from his dream, Ego used the light pouring in through the door to examine where he was. He had leapt from a cushy curtained bed onto a nearby table, breaking the lamp that had been sitting on it. He had torn a mahogany leg off and, perhaps most unfortunately, was stark naked. He took all this in seconds as the adrenaline in his blood slowly started to come back down. Ego looked back at the Von Eldritch daughter in a stupor. All she could do was pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh.
"Bloody Hell… look, we're having dinner in 20 minutes. Wash off your filth and put on some clothes."
With that she closed the door quickly and walked back down the hall, leaving Ego to himself. He looked at the door, then back to the improvised weapon in his hand, then back to the door. His panicked mind struggling for something to say, he simply yelled back at the doorway.
"I'll pay for a new table!..."
A quick, cold shower and change of clothes later, and Ego was ready to leave the room. Unfortunately, all that was available was some hand-me-downs from Seviathan. More specifically, due to the vast size difference between the Imp King and the Von Eldritch boy, Ego was forced to wear some baggy jeans and a T-shirt from Seviathan's band "The Elder Signs."
The King made his way down the hallway towards where he assumed the dining hall would be. Truth be told, the gaudy outfit and embarrassing encounter with Helsa had already left his mind. All Ego could focus on was his left hand, which he hid in his pocket, glancing at occasionally. The Yellow Sign was still there. Looking back at him. Taunting him. He had hoped it had all been a dream, that there was no Hastur or Alastor or apocalypse. Yet the Sign remained, as did the heavy tome he carried under his other arm. Ego tried not to look at the Necronomicon; it no longer physically harmed him to touch, but the implications made him sick. Nevertheless he carried it with him. Something told Ego he would need all the information he could for what was to come.
Finally he arrived at the doors to the dining hall and pushed them open. Inside was an unusual scene, although recently unusual had become the norm. The Doomslayer once again sat by himself, shoveling down food with gusto. Angel and Husker sat next to each other, bickering as usual. Charlie sat next to Seviathan, visible disgust on her face as he rambled on about his accomplishments as if they mattered; if looks could kill, Vaggie would have been a murderer as he glared across from them. Ser Pentious and his eggs were sat at a different table entirely, presumably the children's section. The eggs were delighted, but Pentious' expression was sour. Wership seemed the happiest Ego had ever seen him, chowing down on various peculiar-looking foods that must have tasted like home to him, and Baxter merely picked at his food while he studied notes. Finally, at the end of the table sat Father and Daughter Von Eldritch, who daintily ate and discussed matters in private.
Charlie was the first to notice Ego's entrance, presumably desperate for any excuse to ignore Seviathan.
"Oh, Ego! You're awake!" She said loudly in his direction, alerting the other guests. Ego raised an eyebrow and walked over to a free space next to Vaggie.
"Uh… yeah. How long was I out?" The King asked as he took his seat.
"Oh, a couple hours." Seviathan said, shrugging. "Dad says you tripped and hit your head. Bummer, amirite?" He put his arm around Charlie and laughed. Vaggie was about to break her fork in half with one hand. Ego coughed, glancing at the elder Von Eldritch.
"Yes, well, I'm glad it wasn't longer. Time is of the essence. I've got a plan for how to stop the tentacles."
The din of the room fell silent, and Helsa raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What would that be, Your Majesty?" She asked, her voice laden with sarcasm, before sipping some wine.
Ego shrugged, eating a spoonful of what he hoped was simply calamari before replying. "Step One: I'm going to Heaven."
Helsa spat her drick abruptly, staining the sheets as everyone stared at the King. Ego simply ate the rest of his plate. He had forgotten how nice food was, even if it was… eldritch. Finally he looked back up and saw all eyes on him. He raised both eyebrows as he took a drink. "...What?"
Husker replied curtly. "What do you mean, what?! Why the fuck are you going to go up there? How would involving those psychopaths make things better?!"
Ego dabbed his mouth with a napkin before getting out of his chair, walking and talking. "Okay, yes, the angels aren't typically… happy to comply, but given that the current situation also impacts them I feel they may be willing to assist us. Baxter…" The fish genius looked up from his notes. "I'm going up immediately. You're in charge of maintaining security of this mansion and everyone in it while I'm gone. Any problems?" Baxter simply scoffed.
"Ego, my hierarchical compatriot and benefactor, must you really doubt my talents? I had already taken the liberty of hacking into and optimizing the perimeter's security systems a mere 14 minutes into our arrival here."
Helsa and Frederick both exclaimed. "You did what?" They were promptly ignored. Ego kept talking.
"Excellent work. You, Pentious and Wership keep on that. Charlie, Angel, Husker, Vaggie: welcome to your new home for the foreseeable future."
The aforementioned rulers, as well as Helsa and Frederick, all exclaimed. "No way!" They were promptly ignored.
Ego stood in front of a nearby window, looking up towards the sky. The tendrils were still bashing against the Pentagram, obviously trying to break through it to the living realm. Meanwhile, tentacle after tentacle kept trying to assault the glowing bastion of Heaven, only to be blasted by a ray of white light sliced through by a golden blade. The King furrowed his brow and spoke without turning his gaze. "I'm flying up in 15 minutes. I'll need a knapsack, some stationery items, a weapon, and a set of clothes that don't reek of marijuana and desperation."
Seviathan exclaimed. "Excuse me?!" He was promptly ignored.
