As the weirdo slumped over, they all watched in horror as the sealing pin shattered into nothingness. They all knew that there was no way that they would survive if they stayed, and so they fled as the massive, submerged city shook. While they had been forced to return to that city, they had been given one last chance to prevent this by the one that had reversed their former fortunes. Now, all that remained of that being’s involvement was the portal that they had used to get here in such a hurry.

As they fled, they hoped that they would be able to make one last heroic final stand in the city. Perhaps they could hold out just long enough for The Warden to get involved, and perhaps the former masters would still be weakened by the loop. Once they all arrived back in the city, however, it quickly became clear that their former fate was now likely to be their only chance of survival. They could feel the horrifying power that the former masters now wielded once again as the inside of their skulls felt like they were being torn apart with serrated and scorching hot talons.

They held firm against this initial onslaught, but the longer that they endured the more painful it became. It was an act of retribution and vindictive spite on the part of those aberrations, as they had always dreamed of this moment.

…

For what had been far too long (in their eyes), the beings that were rightfully their chattel had usurped the natural order. These weak, frail, pathetic creatures had no right to do what they had done, nor had they possessed the right to lord over their betters in such despicable ways. Now that their God was waking up, however, all the chains that had bound them had been shattered. It was not just their God that was waking up, though, as the seas raged harder and harder until those that had slept awoke and began to assert their influence once again.

Even this hideous city, formed in the shape of a city made by lesser beings, was shifting and taking on a more pleasing form. Houses and roads twisted and contorted, turning in and out upon themselves as the whole aesthetic of the realm became more insane and otherworldly. By the time that the slaves finished fleeing back t the newly remodeled city, the transformation was complete.

As those rebellious vermin tried to endure the punishment that was heaped upon them, the true masters stretched and looked themselves over. This was long since overdue. They had been trapped in such hideous and weak bodies for so long, unable to let their glorious true selves manifest. But now… now they were no longer bound by that irritating state of things. They were back, and now that they had their old bodies back, they could begin to set things right.

And so began the breaking of the rebellious slaves, either by physical or psychological force. The mind of a member of the Races was a weak and insignificant thing, prone to failing hard when faced with the power and appearance of nobler, purer, more enlightened beings such as themselves. They may have been fewer in number, but they made up for that by being exponentially more powerful.

And now… now they would use their natural power, their natural superiority, to make those that once bent low and served their every whim do so once again! There was an old saying amongst the Races that still held true; “A Mind is a terrible thing to waste.” Well, they had once followed that a bit too far, and in so doing accidentally set the stage for the rebellion that had forced them into such a terrible place. No more.

The slaves had proven that they could never be trusted in any capacity. Any mind that was ‘wasted’ would be no great loss, for such minds led to rebelliousness and thought above one’s station. They would break their former chattel and bind them once again, but this time they would never be free. Not now, not ever again.

…

It awoke after what had seemed to be an eternity. Or perhaps just a few moments. In the end, time meant nothing to it at all, so what was the difference? Regardless of the timeframe, it was no longer trapped in a half-dreaming state and now was wide awake. This did raise the question as to whom or what had freed it from that annoying sealing pin. As it collected itself and used its power to search through the history of this realm, it discovered something that both pleased and horrified it.

Vaile! Vaile had freed not just itself but all others that it had supported! However, after taking so many blows, he was on death’s door. Or at least that is what should have been the case. By freeing itself and its kin from their chains, Vaile had also freed himself. With his full power now restored, the damage that he had sustained was being healed away faster than any normal being normally would be able to.

As it gazed at Vaile, it felt some semblance of more human emotions, but compared to what other, unknowable feelings that it possessed, this feeling was drowned out by most everything else. If one could equate what it felt towards Vaile to anything remotely human, it would be a mix of admiration, gratitude, worry, relief, affection, and a few other random things. It wasn’t of the mind to try and bed him or anything, but it did feel an affinity that could not simply be discounted from something of that kind.

Of course, it knew that trying such a thing would likely result in Vaile’s head exploding, which was most assuredly not what it wanted, so any romantic feelings quickly were subsumed by other, less kinky emotions. If there was one thing that it was pleased with, it was that Vaile was regenerating his hp and his physical form at an absurd rate. But what it was now concerned about was what would happen if Vaile woke up and looked at it. If past events were anything to go by, he’d either go mad or die outright, and when it peered into the possibilities ahead it wasn’t as if there was a pure 0% chance that he would be able to endure.

However, the likelihood of his being unable to do much more than either die outright or live as a madman was far too high. An Eldritch God it may be, but it knew that against the combined forces of the Alliance it would be easily steamrolled. Thus, there was only one thing to do. It raised the sunken city to the surface, ripped the other city from where it once was and planted it around its own home, grabbed Vaile, and then proceeded to inform its kin as to what had transpired a few minutes ago.

It was a calculated series of actions, made with the express purpose of driving its kin to new levels of rage and brutality. If they could break the slaves before Vaile woke up, then it would be able to use the free time to (hopefully) get its house in order and set a stage so that Vaile didn’t die. It moved from its old place, the room where it had made a final stand before being sealed, back to the top of the tower, which twisted and reshaped into another form.

It did not take Vaile with itself, though, leaving him behind under the care of beings whose appearance and power were less likely to drive him insane or end his life at first sight. It just hoped that Vaile wouldn’t wake up too soon, for there was still a bit of housework to be done, after all.