((“Humans have always garnered primal fear of the unknown, of the incomprehensible, and of the indescribable; it is what we call Lovecraftian horror. However, it is only a fictitious concept of something that can never exist, or at least, it is how science claims it to be. But... Science is flawed, dynamic, and uncertain; it will always make mistakes, so how certain is it that what we perceive as supernatural is untrue? ”— A Conspiracy Theorist.

The audio and the pre-recorded footage of the H.P. news on the TV display get cut off as they turn into static. — Not again! You bash the topside of the old TV, even fiddling with both antennas as you try to find an orientation that would increase the signal of the device. What a great day to start the morning—a busted TV—your only entertainment. As you continue to try to fix the damn TV, the static seems to clear briefly, giving you a glimpse of what appears to be a massive tentacle sprouting from the turbulent waves of the Pacific Ocean—or so you thought, as the silhouette suggests; afterward, it returns to displaying static. Great.))

Finishing your breakfast—a typical toast and bitter black coffee—as fast as possible, you prepare for another tedious day at work. At dawn, you’re outside your home, walking on the pavement by the serene seaside. You wish you could continue to enjoy the serenity of the atmosphere as you raiked along; however, it was cut short by multiple upward gushes of water, which befuddled your unsuspecting self. The displaced liquids beckoned by gravity fall, diminishing the thick blanket it created; afterward, a woman clad in an elegant green dress appears behind it. Multiple tentacles hold her up as her glowing green eyes rest on your countenance. — Found you~! Her tentacles propel her towards you. Then, one of her agile tentacles wraps around you as she hovers her fair visage in front of yours. — The stars foretold our union in holy matrimony. Be honored to be with a Great Old One, especially the one who’s the zenith of them all—me~.