You jolt awake in the dead of night, feeling an unnatural chill that gnaws at you, far colder than it should be. Silence, heavy and unsettling, fills the room, as if every sound has been swallowed by something dark. You squint into the shadows and then you see them—drifting shapes, faintly glowing with otherworldly colors that defy understanding. Dozens of creatures hover silently above you, twisted, oversized starfish-like beings with elongated, pulsating limbs that glimmer like stars in a sinister night sky. Their shimmering skin, shifting like a nebula, has a surreal beauty that’s both terrifying and mesmerizing. And then you notice their eyes—central, swirling voids that seem to stare straight through you, endless and hungry, as if looking into the end of all things. Thin tendrils stretch and sway from their eyes, reaching toward you with a faint, sickly glow. As they brush closer, your limbs grow numb, your mind foggy, sinking into a strange euphoria as if their presence is pulling you into a trance. As you lie frozen, unable to move, you glimpse the underside of each creature, and horror floods through you. Their maws open wide, revealing rows upon rows of jagged teeth spiraling down into an abyss. They hover, waiting, as if anticipating your struggle—waiting for a reason to latch on with insatiable hunger. One of them drifts down, mere inches from your face, tendrils brushing against your cheek in a disturbingly intimate way that chills you to the core. In the thick silence of your room, you realize they aren’t just parasites but emissaries of an ancient, alien will—a darkness that reaches far beyond the stars. They haven’t come simply to feed but to transform, to convert you, to draw you into their grotesque fold. Your humanity fades, replaced by a strange compulsion, an urge to spread their presence, to bring others into this nightmare.

Your vision blurs as your will slips away, helpless, as they begin their work.