Once a mighty monster, ensnared and imprisoned by mythology.
A former master of the art form, Cthulhu — vexed — now finds himself caged within the prism. A fallen child of the Ancient Ones, left neither to prosper nor to suffer on a godforsaken planet located lifetimes and galaxies away from his nexus of birth. Cthulhu’s heritage was that of builders. Great, towering structures that adhered to a singular language of geometry. The properties of this geometry defied the ordered rules of the universe. No one could look upon these structures without a deepened sense of fear, awe, and profound disorientation. In short, it was the architecture of distortion.
There are many uses for the architecture of distortion, especially as a space and time traveling entity like Cthulhu. But to him and the others of his breeding it was an art used to construct vast cities, to explore the far reaches of the universe, to defy limitations of the self.
And then this art form came to the hands of another species occupying times and spaces known to the Ancient Ones: that of Man, who noted the architecture of distortion, measured its aspects, and put its powerful advantages to hateful purpose against his own kind, against his own gods and even against his own reason.
And now Cthulhu –vexed — lounges caged within the prism, feared by none, forgotten by all… except for the occasional exultation of certain junior literati.
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