Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

'A Dream Within a Dream', by Edgar Allen Poe

"Oh thank gods below, Nickis. I didn't think you were coming." Kresk exclaimed taking his infernal cocktail from the quasit. The familiar was also carrying a bowl with something squeaking inside. "Compleements a' duh' cheaf, boess." The familiar chirped setting down the bowl. The bowl was filled to the brim with all manner of insects and vermin. Spiders, scorpions, centipedes, cockroaches, worms and gods know what else crawled around in it. An orange spice covered the chitin and slime. Everyone exclaimed out in joy at the gift, save for Raum and Raven. Raum never showed any expression except sadness and melancholy. Ever. Not for as long as anyone could remember.

Raven, on the other hand, simply appeared not to notice. Socothbenoth had been watching her as Raum muttered on about gloom and doom. It wasn't a genuine attraction it was just that she was such lovely scenery. Nowhere near as gorgeous as Malcanthet, but still. He had been slowly following a reflection of light that had originated as sheen in her hair, slithered down the collar on her leotard, crawled down her breasts to her stomach, and rested on one of her thighs.

Right now, Socothbenoth would have done almost anything in the world to trade places with that light. Socothbenoth had no issues about age. He was, after all, the Demon Prince of Pleasure and Perversion. Breaking rules is what he lived for. Besides, Socothbenoth considered himself very young. And a man is only as old as he thinks he is. This was perfectly evidenced by everyone at the table.

To start with, Astaroth was timeless, not old or young or any age at all. He had lived for literally millions and millions of years. He had been everything, young and old. Assigning him an age was pointless right now. He just was. Then there was Raum. Raum was undeniably old. He was older than old, and he showed it. The weight of the years pressed down on him, not like Astaroth. Then there was Ipos. Ipos was old, but not very old. Compared to a lot of other Demon Lords he was quite young. But he acted older. In a sense, Ipos was a middle-aged demon. And there was Kresk. Aside from Raven, Kresk was actually the youngest among them, only about 550 years old, give or take. Yet he acted much older. In this sense, Kresk was almost as old as Raum. And so, Socothbenoth, who acted younger and more 'playful' than all the others, was the youngest, despite actually only being a little younger than Ipos.

But now Socothbenoth took his eyes, glazed over from lust, off of Raven and onto the bowl. He grabbed a centipede, lifted it above his mouth, wrapped his serpentine tongue around it and pulled it down, swallowing it whole. Astaroth stuffed a spider into his mouth and Ipos practically inhaled a fire beetle. Kresk took a scorpion by the tail and bit off everything except the stinger, which he then chewed on, savoring the venom. He would have done the same to another had he not remembered Raven. He shook her a little, disturbing her from her reverie. She regained her composure before she noticed the arachnid Kresk was dangling in front of her face. "Want some?" Kresk asked. Raven, disgusted, politely said, "No."

"Alright, your loss then." He put the whole scorpion in his mouth this time, chewing it slowly. He was trying to savor the venom and vermin gore, but every time he tried to relax Raum continued with his incessant muttering. He just kept talking, realizing nobody was listening but that everybody cared. If it was anybody else, Kresk would have punched him or her in the mouth, but it wasn't anybody else. It was Raum. And Kresk had heard stories about Raum. Horrible, dark stories whispered only in the brightest hours of the day, when evil things fear to walk, about the Harbinger of the Apocalypse. There were stories that said he was so freakishly old because of some temporal accident from when he toyed with the very fabric of time. If he wanted to, he could unwind the reality of time like it was a badly knit sweater. The only reason he didn't was because he had traveled to the very ends of time itself and witnessed the total destruction of the final Apocalypse, the end of all dimensions in this multiverse. And he knew that destruction was pointless; he had seen the end, and knew what would happen. But he would never tell. Still other tales said that Raum was an avatar of the fabric of actuality itself, a manifestation of existence. As such, he could find the cracks in the world, and anyone who displeased the demonic soothsayer would be tossed into a dimension beyond and between the stars, where horrors out of time waited, watched, and contemplated, in anticipation of the second that the gods of the multiverse faltered enough to let them escape and bring madness and terror to this reality, horrors with names like the King in Yellow and Great Cthulhu, monsters that could very well be the weakest of their species and still have the ability to eat gods, horrors that could very well be dreaming all of existence. And as such, Kresk chewed his scorpion and let Raum ramble on.

Raven, now conscious of the present atmosphere, was growing increasingly disturbed at the mutterings of Raum. For while the rest of the party was growing more oblivious to the unceasing premonitions of the gray seer, she was becoming even more aware of the callings. And they were reaching into her mind, into her conscience and soul, perfectly clear. "It will happen," Raum, said in his dusty dry voice, "you have a destiny to fulfill. I have seen it. And no matter how you try, it will happen. You have to go there, to that place no one else can go for you, and you must do what your birthright foretells. Do not try to escape it. It will happen. I have seen it. It will happen. I have seen it. It will happen. I have seen it. It will-"

"Kid, kid?" Kresk shoved Raven out of her trance. Raum's pale, dead eyes full of sadness and ill boding had hypnotized her. Nobody had really noticed. They had all been devouring the grubs, insects and other vermin with delight. Kresk was halfway through a rot worm when he noticed the tall, black form of Graz'zt moving towards a door out of the building. Kresk figured that it was the moment of truth for Raven. It was time for her to know the facts. He tried putting on a solemn face and asked Raven, "Now, kid, do you want to know if Graz'zt is fa-"

"Positive."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

" I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Well, it's hard to beat a resolve like that. Come along, young cambion. Let's see who you owe for life." Kresk took stood up and walked towards Graz'zt, Raven barely a step behind. Socothbenoth admired her long legs one more time before they disappeared underneath her cloak. Raven and Kresk ran across the platform to where Graz'zt was standing. Past arachnid, beautiful Lolth and hideous, fungoid Zuggtmoy, past a group of hideous (to Raven)/seductive (to Kresk) mariliths, past squawking harpies, and past what Raven thought was the most beautiful person in the world. At first she thought he was a man, the most handsome man ever, thin and pale, with feminine, yellow eyes, and black hair that seemed to curl into devious horns. He was dressed in maroon robes, boots, and a kerchief. Looking closer, Raven saw that 'he' was actually a woman. But on another look, she thought that 'she' was a man again. In the end she couldn't decide what he/she was. She/he just smiled knowingly as Kresk and Raven ran by. Raven looked back at him/her. The immortal Desire of the Endless just waved her/his fingers at Raven before he/she lit a cigarette with her/his fingers and inhaled a bit.

There were dozens of doors spread around the room. None were out of access, but each one was different somehow. Black doors, white doors, double doors, revolving doors, tall doors, short doors, one door was actually just a curtain across a gaping hole. Graz'zt had currently made his way to a tall, regal door carved out of a dead treant, its eyeless face still in the center. Carved all around the edges were Abyssal runes, proclaiming that the door led to a city of unknowable terror. Graz'zt knew this as the doorway home, for he had seen it many times in his palace, but had never actually used it as a gate. But it led home nonetheless, back to Azzagrat, his city that spanned all of three layers of the 666 layers of the Abyss. The only demon that officially controlled more real estate was Demogorgon, and Graz'zt aimed to change that. Of course, as only an aspect of the original Graz'zt, this meant that he would return to his master for new orders. He began to reach is six-fingered hand towards the topaz, six-sided doorknob.

Kresk called out to the Prince of Shadows. The Ebon Lord sighed at the interruption and greeted Kresk and Raven as insect and larvae, respectively. "What is it, fool?" the Prince of Lamias asked the Fire Demon. Kresk stood up to a normal height of six feet this time. Raven tried to stand up straight, but every time she looked into those emerald eyes and tried to ask Graz'zt if he was her father, she found her back bending and her voice completely absent. Now Raven was more nervous than she had ever been in her entire life. Her palms were moist, cold sweat ran down her head, her heart pumped faster than her breath, and it was a sheer miracle that her knees didn't collapse while she was standing there. She suddenly felt so frail, so weak, and so naked in this human form. This god was her father, and all she had to show for it was a scrawny little body wrapped in a blue cloak.

Kresk could see that it would take Raven a moment to work up the morale to pop the question. Her resolve obviously wasn't that strong. So, Kresk took it upon himself to query. "Yes, well. This is kind of awkward…I'm sure by now you and everyone in here are aware that this young creature beside me is a cambion. Her father happened to be a demon and her mother a mortal."

"Don't patronize me, Kresk. Get to the point."

"Well, we, which is to say, she is wondering if maybe you're the father."

"Does she have any reason to doubt?"

"She claims her father is some primer named 'Trogon' or something like that. It's supposed to tie into some apocalypse prophecy that Raum is muttering on about. But you, milord, and her share a certain number of qualities, and we are wondering if perhaps she is mistaken and you are the father."

"Kresk, you should naturally assume all cambions are mine, if not now, at least at some point in the future. Now if that is all, I must be leaving." Raven finally managed to pull up the courage to speak to Graz'zt for the second time tonight. "Please." She begged, "Please. I just want to be sure." Graz'zt looked at Raven, dispassionately asking, "And why is this so important to you? What does it matter to you, little one?"

"It might just save the world."

"Hah! This planet is beyond salvation. From the moment Morpheus let this world's sun have children, from the moment he let this sphere dream of life and producing destinies and deaths, it was doomed. This little dirt clump is a nothing, a backwater piece of mud hurling through the void, less advanced and intelligent than billions of its surrounding peers. What good is saving it?"

"I just want to know. Is that so much to ask?" Raven begged again. The Lord of the Triple Realm flared his nostrils before, giving a little mercy tonight, he said, "Fine. But make haste. Put out your hand." Raven did so, placing her right hand out. Graz'zt extended his delicate six-fingered hand and placed it above hers. The palm of his hand glowed, and the palm of Raven's hand glowed, and then Graz'zt withdrew his digits. "Indeed, it would appear this is one of my offspring."

Raven's eyes widened in awe and she felt like she could faint. "So, you- you are my father?"

"Don't test me, mortal! Understand some basic principles. I owe you nothing, nothing whatsoever. I owe your mother, nothing. If anything, you owe me everything for taking the time to create you. Both of you are mine. But know this; you are the fruit of my loins, so I expect you to be strong. There is always a place for you in my Triple Realm of Azzagrat, but you will have to prove yourself worthy of it, and that will take more than fancy word-games like tonight. And know this; if you are swearing revenge right now, know that greater beings than you have done the exact same thing and failed. Go find them now." Raven hadn't heard a word Graz'zt said. She just felt so happy right now, so relieved. If Graz'zt noticed, he didn't show it. He began to walk away before he slightly turned to Raven and said, "However, you have come this far. Here." He tossed Raven a leather pouch that jangled something metal in it. "Try not to spend it all in one place. And, good luck, my daughter. Now, I bid you farewell. And remember, there may be a lesser throne in Azzagrat waiting for you." At that, Graz'zt opened the door and stepped out. Raven saw his massive frame, witnessed the outline of his beautiful form for a brief moment. Than, Graz'zt disappeared in a gust of black wind that left behind two glowing green spots where his eyes had been.

Raven felt…relieved. There was no describing how much she felt this, how happy, how safe she felt. Kresk said something, but she didn't know what. Part of her wanted to open the massive wooden door and follow Graz'zt. But she didn't. She walked along. She saw Desire on the way back. Time slowed walking past him/her, and she/he smiled at Raven. After all, she had what she had always desired most of all. She had safety. Desire, in a sweet voice as sharp as a knife, said to her, "Goodbye." At that, he/she walked away, turning her/his eyes on Raven one more time. She ignored the mariliths and demon queens. She sat down at her seat at the table, completely oblivious, Kresk said something again, but she didn't hear. Raven was in some kind of haze of joy, and everything else just seemed to fade out. Kresk tried again but quit after a while. When he arrived at the table, he found Raum still mumbling while Socothbenoth and Astaroth stared wide-eyed as Ipos stuffed his face into the vermin bowl and licked out the scraps and mucus. He was suddenly aware everybody was staring. Ipos looked up, orange slime on his cat face, shifted his feline eyes and said, "You people can't afford to judge me." He happily returned to licking the bowl.

Raven put her arm on the table, and rested her head in her palm. She looked through the skylight on the roof. Outside, she could see that the stars were slowly starting to wink out of the sky. The night was beginning to end. And she suddenly realized how tired she felt. She hadn't really slept in so long, after all. Raum just kept muttering over and over again. Putting both her arms on the table, Raven crossed them and laid her head on them, using them as a pillow. To Hell with Raum. His insane ramblings were wrong, plain and simple. His prophecy was just a useless rambling, a useless, repetitive rambling. Raven found it harder and harder to keep her eyes open. Raum's voice was actually kind of soothing, and after a while Raven didn't hear the words or the tone, just the sound. And soon, Raum's unwitting lullaby cast Raven into a sleep. The last thing she saw before she drifted off into the land of Nod was Socothbenoth, and his beautiful white eyes.

Astaroth noticed a figure coming towards the table, but the Diabolus decided to remain silent. The shape was hazy at first, but then he became distinct. His white, embroidered robes concealed most of his body, and his alabaster skin concealed was dusky from travel. His hair was wild and long, but the exact shade as the rest of him. A smile danced on his lips, and he wore a rectangular emerald contained in an eagle-stone around his neck. His eyes were as pitch black as all the night skies that had and ever will exist, but shocking, green stars danced in them, making his eyes look for all the world like the starry void of a jade space. He reached into his robes, and Astaroth noticed that bandages covered his arms, but not his hands, save for an odd strand around a finger. The robes went back enough to show a belt, attached to which was a small pouch. The rest of the man's body was covered in bandages as well, but a tabard that went past his knees was over him, and he wore white boots as well. He gently picked up the leather pouch, which was engraved with a single yellow jewel, and took out a little sand. Sifting it through his fingers first, Daniel the Sandman, Dream of the Endless, sprinkled the sand over Raven's eyes. Astaroth gazed at the minute grains of sand fall, and observed that each one was a little bit of a dream. They hit Raven's eyes, and Astaroth watched Raven slip into the Realm of Dreams. Daniel silently whistled. An old raven flew across the room and landed on his outstretched arm. And silently, the Sandman and Matthew the raven faded into the shadows.

(The Plane of Dreams: A transitive plane coterminous with all the multiverse, provided at least one creature has slept and dreamed on the plane of existence in question. The plane itself is composed of an infinite amount of dreamscapes contained in 'bubbles' of a sort. When anything sleeps and dreams, its mind projects itself into the Plane of Dreams. Similarly, a dreamscape is formed every time a mind enters. Normally, the dreamscape fades away after a while, but some, like Oz or Kadath, become established dreamscapes. All dreamscapes revolve around the Dreamheart, an unknown region of the Plane of Dreams. Several smaller, demi-planes exist on the Plane of Dreams, most famous of which is the Plane of Nightmares. Theoretically, it is possible for a planewalker to physically enter the Plane of Dreams, but it is ill advised as occasionally dreamscapes 'burst' and release a horde of literal nightmare monsters, ranging from vengeful, psychotic ex-lovers with knives to massive destructive terrors resembling…whatever. Dream of the Endless presides over all of this and makes his home in a permanent dreamscape. The sand he uses is actually gathered from the Plane of Faerie. Just more fun planar facts to know and learn.)

Kresk, Ipos, and Socothbenoth began to laugh uproariously, Kresk hardest of all. "Kresk." Astaroth whispered to the Fire Demon. "Yeah? What?" Kresk, his face still red, asked heartily, looking over at Astaroth. Astaroth mutely pointed at the sleeping Raven, her head on her arms. Kresk smiled and whispered out, "I forgot they have to sleep. Well, I better get this cub home."

"I suppose it would be best if we made for the Abyss as well." Ipos meowed.

"Why? Come to the tower. I want you to see the idiots she lives with."

"Are you sure? What if they see us?"

"They won't. It's too late, or too early, for them to be awake."

"Well, all right then. If you insist."

"Please, I invite you into my humble abode. If you want, I'll even do the bond of salt."

"Spectacular! Now, there's just one more thing I have to do."

"A departure speech."

"Spot on."

"Who is it tonight?"

"Hmm. Tonight I'm feeling in a Necronomicon mood."

"Good choice." Ipos agreed. Kresk signaled to Astaroth. The Diabolus nodded his head. He whispered a few magic words as his hand danced in the air. A shimmering, transparent orb of silence appeared around Raven. Kresk then teleported in a burst of flames, disappearing from the balcony.

Kresk appeared on the middle of the stage and looked out at the demonic mob. The crowd was starting to thin out, but there were enough for this speech to have an impact. He began to yell out and drew the attention of the crowd. He spoke in Abyssal with a jolly tone, "Well, friends, enemies, brothers and sisters, it has been an unforgettable night. But I am afraid I must depart. (Here an 'Ah' from the crowd.) But before I go, let us remember those sacred words from that greatest and most devious of all tomes, the Necronomicon. O friends and companions of the night, thou who rejoicest in the baying of dogs (here a hideous howl burst forth) and spilt blood (here nameless sounds vied with morbid shriekings) who wanderest in midst of shades among the tombs, (here a whistling sigh occurred) who longest for blood and bring terror to mortals, (short, sharp cries from myriad throats) Gorgo, (repeated as a response) Mormo, (repeated with ecstasy) thousand-faced moon, (sighs and flute notes) look favourably on our sacrifices! (Here polyphemous roars and moans.)"

H.P. Lovecraft, 'The Horror at Red Hook'.

Amid the screams, Kresk teleported again, back to the platform. Giving Astaroth another signal, the Diabolus disintegrated the orb of silence. Raven shifted in her sleep a little bit. Kresk grinned. Like a tiger picking up it's cub, Kresk held Raven in one of his massive arms. Together, Astaroth, Kresk, Ipos, and Socothbenoth began to walk towards an exit. Astaroth noticed lonely Raum standing by himself at the table. Astaroth tugged Kresk's sleeve a bit. Kresk turned around as Astaroth pointed to Raum. Kresk rolled his eyes, then staring at the pathetic Demiurge, looked back at Astaroth and nodded his head. The Diabouls signaled to the Harbinger of the Apocalypse and Raum, flashing a brief hint of joy (his frown faded very, very slightly before reappearing) hovered over to the group.

And so the group left. Invisibly, Kresk led Ipos, Socothbenoth, Astaroth, Astaroth's dragon, and Raum through the streets of the city. Cats screeched for no apparent reason to their owners as the demonic band passed, and lights dimmed or went out entirely. Sometimes the magic would fade enough so scuttling and the clacking of boots and hooves could be heard, or Astaroth would lose a feather. A homeless man with green eyes named Jack had lost his job, family, and sanity because he believed he could see demons and invisible spirits in the world around him. Of course, nobody believed him. And of course, because the universe is sick and funny like that, he really could see demons and spirits. So when the infernal mob of Kresk and his companions walked by, he didn't say anything. He just grabbed one of Astaroth's feathers that had fallen on the ground and began to laugh. When the group came to the ocean between them and the Tower, it did not halt their path at all (however, Ipos dipped his goose-like foot in to the water before walking across). They merely stepped across the gentle waves like it was solid ground (although Astaroth's dragon chose to swim), leaving ripples across the surface of the bay. Kresk led the group to the door, Astaroth's dragon shaking itself dry before it entered. And in the distance, dogs barked like they did for Hecate in the ancient times, and the cyclopean buildings leered with dead eyes on the empty streets. And perhaps they were, for even then the Witch Goddess was stalking through the streets, remembering when witches and night-creatures still held this world in sway before she departed for her home on the third layer of Hell.

Robin shifted in his sleep. Around his bed stood Astaroth, Ipos, Raum, and Kresk. Astaroth's dragon was currently rummaging through the Titan's fridge, scavenging for scraps of meat. Kresk sipped a glass of arsenic and brandy, staring silently at the maskless Titan. He looked around before bluntly declaring, "Yeah, sometimes I come in here and move stuff around just to freak him out. Weirds him out a little, ya' know? When I really want to freak him out though, I make it look like one of his teammates did it, especially the redhead. That's when things get interesting!"

"Is that all you do, Kresk?" Ipos queried. "No. I do the usual tricks; disembodied voices, moving shadows, spoil the milk, smell of brimstone here and there, the usual."

"No possessions? No burning pentagrams? Not even the flying furniture thing? Tisk tisk, Kresk. You've lost your touch."

"I have not! I'm still in as a good a shape as I was during the Salem trials!"

"I have to agree, Kresk. You're whipped." Astaroth added. Kresk felt older than usual at this. "Ah, maybe you're right." He said desponded. "You know I haven't even done the 'stack the furniture so it defies gravity' thing? It'd probably help if they didn't have one massive couch. Hey! That's it!"

"What?"

"We'll do the furniture stacking thing! Nothing says 'malevolent presence' like the furniture stacking thing! But we'll have to do it quietly. The kid doesn't like it when I do too much mischief. She doesn't want her thralls and me to meet just yet. Well, let's get to work. Soc, you can start by…" Kresk realized Socothbenoth was absent. He guessed that the Demon Prince of Pleasure and Perversion had probably slipped off to Raven's room. At another time, Kresk would have killed Socothbenoth. But there was too much work to be done. And besides, Kresk had felt a shadow follow him to the tower. A shadow with six fingers on its mighty arms…

Socothbenoth slithered into Raven's room quietly. He admired her décor for a moment, before he saw the young mage resting gently in her bed. Even asleep, she was still beautiful enough to Socothbenoth to draw his attention for a night. He sauntered closer to her bed. Eyes closed, he pressed his face closer to hers. His long brown hair fell on to her pillow so that her visage was lost behind it. And at last, flickering his serpentine tongue, he pressed his lips on to hers, kissing her gently and passionately in her sleep. She didn't wake, didn't move, and showed no sign of this kiss. But she dreamed. She dreamed that she was alone in darkness. Standing there, quiet and lonely. Socothbenoth walked out of the shadows and stood so close in front of her. They stared longedly at each other before they embraced, feeling each other's lips press tightly against each other. Raven felt the fiber of her clothes disappear at his touch. And what happened next, was a matter of privacy.

Of course it was only a dream, and Raven only indicated it by smiling and rolling onto her side in the real world. Socothbenoth himself grinned and began to walk away. Then, he felt something grasp his long hair. Oh, he hoped this would happen. But then, the grip yanked hard, and pulled Socothbenoth off the ground. It turned him around, and it took every fiber in his being for Soc not to scream. For standing there was Graz'zt, his emerald eyes gleaming with hatred. Graz'zt smiled a devious smile at the lesser demon, and Raven did not hear the cries. In the Abyss, the real Socothbenoth howled in agony, while the real Graz'zt felt blood run down his six-fingered hands.

Raven would awake in the morning feeling like a goddess. She would have no memory of her wonderful dream, and would not be curious as to why a miniature version of Doomshadow piercing a piece of paper bearing only a picture of six-fingered black hand was on her shelf. And she would only smile and sip her green tea as the other Titans panicked over the pile of furniture that was defying physics in the middle of the kitchen. And for the first time ever, she would greet the day as a blessing instead of a curse.