Abruptly the scene around Ainz warped, and he intruded upon uncharted territories. A space beyond primordial chaos and void, a plane of existence outside of all that is, and all that is not.

The muffled, maddening beating of drums, and thin, monotonous whine of blasphemous flutes assaulted the senses as The Overlord trod the inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond Time.

The detestable pounding and piping permeated the boundless hollow whereunto dance slowly, awkwardly, and absurdly the gigantic, tenebrous ultimate gods—the blind, voiceless, mindless gargoyles whose soul is Nyarlathotep.

The gigantic gargoyles swayed awkwardly around an amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the center of all infinity, and who gnaws hungrily in inconceivable, incessant depts.

Ainz dared the region pervaded by confusion and madness. There was no up or down. Nor ahead, or behind. There was neither light nor darkness within the realm. There was something else… something else that seeped into the fabric of confusion, something that chilled the very bones.

Ainz cast several protection spells absentminded, while the colored wisps of flame surveyed the area. Undead had {Night Vision}, which was useful in dark areas, however here that would be no respite. Were it not for his tainted skills, and evolved abilities he was certain he wouldn’t be able to see… and maybe that would’ve been a mercy.

A few verses came to mind. “The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. “

He gazed at the abyss.

It expands and shrivels as if the very space was alive.

A pulse—unseen by the fortunate, the bliss of ignorance.

Any sane God that had the misfortune of entering this domain would’ve turned back, but Ainz did not. Instead, he grasped his staff and moved on. He had an idea where to find his target. And so, he embarked, and gradually approached the source of the maddening noises.

A shadow of a sound accompanied his steps as the Supreme Overlord of Death encroached upon the domain of the Tenebrous Ultimate Gods. The colossal Gargoyles who played at the expanse of billions of souls were blind, voiceless, mindless, and yet no creature could ever challenge their ultimate selves. And even they, themselves were nothing more than servants of the Deep Dark.

Something moved, writhed in the mist. The mist takes form, and his target reveals itself.

Nyatlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, The Black Man. The spawn of Azathoth, the Deep Dark. The sibling of the Nameless Mist, and the Darkness that predates existence. One of the eldest and most vile of all beings that was ever to exist, embodied the term evil.

No, not the evil you know. Not a plain term thrown around in society about human immorality and wickedness. True Evil—unknown to man, the profound madness that seeks pleasure in the pain and despair of others. An Evil that cannot be contained nor described by a mere notion.

A tall, lean man of dead black coloration but without the slightest sign of negroid features: wholly devoid of either hair or beard and wearing as his only garment a shapeless robe of some heavy black fabric. His limbs were undistinguishable because of the mist that writhed around his form. Ceaselessly shaping and trashing appendages, never staying the same for more than a second.

The Outer God stood face to face with Ainz Ooal Gown. Distance was meaningless in a place operating under madness and nethermost confusion.

Ainz scrutinized the eldritch terror, his perception straining to its very limit, he was ready to react to whatever his opponent throws at him. This may very well be his final battle.

Nyarlathotep waited, his back to the gigantic gargoyles, and dissected the Overlord in turn.

The Crawling Chaos had no eyes, its face encased by black writhing mist. Yet, Ainz could tell that it was trying to peer into his soul and demolish his defenses. The {Red Orb of Momonga} has long since changed colors. It had become darker than black, and its power was on a whole other level. More than enough to resists whatever confusion the Crawling Mist tried to inflict upon his mind and soul.

At the sight of his target, the rage boiled inside the Overlord and threatened to spill out, but Ainz clenched his teeth, and held back. He was here to rescue his family, the guardians, and if possible, everyone else this fiend had taken from him.

“I am Ainz Ooal Gown. And I have come to retrieve what is mine.” Ainz declared, his voice distorted in the strange ambiance that bubbled in confusion and madness. “Nyarlathotep, be so kind, and comply.” No matter the anger, the rage inside, he still wanted to resolve this as peacefully as possible. While there was little chance of that happening, it’d still be a more optional outcome.

The immediate area around the Overlord flared and shrieked as a wave of yellowish green blaze spread out, and consumed a few dozen meters of confusion, only for the flames to linger, and impede the confusion to take root once more. “Hand them over, and I will consider our business done. Should you deny my generous offer, I will give you hell.” Ainz said, his voice eerily still.

The eldritch terror seemed to mull over his demand, however it soon became obvious that it was making fun of him. The crawling mist shifted and writhed, and then… the Outer God burst open, and innumerable hazy appendages grew upwards rapidly.

The shadow grew, its height beyond reach, Ainz could do nothing but stare at its feet.

Nyarlathotep stood hundreds, thousands, NO! Mere numbers could not describe its height. Only now did Ainz truly comprehend the difference between an Elder- and an Outer God. Although, he knew that Cthulhu was also at a miniscule form when he fought her, the full size of Cthulhu could not compare with this abomination. It was on a whole other level.

Hundreds of thousands of appendages, tentacles, disfigured dead black arms came into view, as the form twisted further, and it no longer resembled anything known to man.

“Ỉ̷̛̻̰͚̘̜̻̳͙͇͈̯̺̞̣̀͛͘͝ͅ ̶̲̞̘̩̻͖͇̠͓̪͉̲̺͚̀͋̅ͅã̷͕͌́͗̈́̔̍͊̏̐̾͆̄̃̏̂̕͝ṃ̵̧͙̹̪̖͕̥̝͕̼̖̲̞̣̈̄̏͆̓̑͠ ̷͕̹̖̝̩͎͇͍̼̞̞̺̽́̎͆͛̃͂̈́͌N̴͔͌͒̈y̸̛̛͈͖̣͉̺̝̟̰̲̰̾͂̈́̈́͆͛̎̓̒̆̏͊̚̚a̴̩͎͓̐̆͒͂́̀̌̐͠r̸̛̗͎͈͉̭̩͓̜̒͜l̸̢͇̠̭͍̤̼̥͕̼͎̝͓̈́͒̓͜͜͠ͅͅā̵͈̠́́̏̈̄ţ̶͓̱̺̯͙͚̖̺̪̟͓̟̤͇̒̊̃̈́̆̄̍̍̉͠͝͝h̶̟̒͑̔̋̓̿̃͑́͘ö̵͚͖̻͓̖̣̣̥̭͔̀̄̎̌̈́̿̇͛͑͆͋͑̇̕͜ͅẗ̷͔͈̬̦̯̫̜̪̬͔̩̤̰̭̠̊͐͛̃͑̅̈́̂̓͗̉̏͒̒̕͘͠e̴̡̡̺͈̤̝͉̝̟̹̠̞̣͐͗̋p̸̧̢̧̙̟̼̫̥̱͔͍̮̜̯̠̏̌̈́̔ͅͅͅ,̶̡̛̫̖̙̜̰̜̺̜̉̈́͛͂̄͂̈́͑͑̽̾͗̔̓̑̇̚̕ ̶͕͕̠̣̮͈̥̱̳͍̹͓̊̇̀͐̃͐̃͛̿͑̓̍̂͌͆̓̕͠͝Ṁ̶̬̲̤͍̱͚͇̘̮̠̪͈͒͆̓͘͝͝͝e̴̙̼̞̭̹̮͖͎̜͉̐̎̇̽̔s̸̨̛̠̜̱̭͎̻̗̦͇̣͉̩̣̼̫͔͒̎̎̅ş̷̬̤̲̤̳̗̤͚̥̩̜͖͈͖̰̮̰̽̈́͗͆̊̓̄̅̌̎̒̎͒̄̃́͝ͅē̴̛̟̂͗̓̆̿́̈́̂͊͊̀̐̈́̇́̓͐̌͝n̶̡̳̬̪͇̯̼̻͎̍͂̓̌͜͝͠ğ̸̪͈̹̜̪̣̬̥̖̘̹̇̎͜ẹ̴̛̲̗͉̘̺͍̭͖̩͍̩̝͙̖̽̂͛́̾͗̇͗̈́͑͜͝r̷̹͕̖͇͔̋̽̉̌͛̏̈̆̃̀̒̈́͗̂̂͘̚̕͠͠ ̸̛͓̜̰̓̒͌̇̑̄̄͐̈́̓̓̾̔̊̂̚ǫ̸̛̰͕̞͇̼̈̂̐̌̎͌̈́̈́̿̈̉̆͆̓̔̐̽f̵̧̧̟̖̰̣̘̯͚̮͙̩͙̈́͛͂̽̈́̉̎͒̓̽̀̇͛͒̓͋̊ ̶̛̠͖͉͔̻͚̙̥̯̬̺̰̘͑̒̀̇̇͋͂̄̎̐̑͌̑͛̾̉͘͘͝͠t̵̫̮̳̻̲̹̣̰̘̻͍̟̎͌͑̏̀͒̔̒̋̈́͑͂̈̃̋̋̔̎̔͜͝h̴͉͇͓̳̳͙̝͓͓͔̰̞̦̹̩̆͜͜e̷̡̢̦̣̝̱̠̥͙̰̣̳̯̓͂͆́̾̈́̏͑̑͘͠ ̴̡̗̰̳͕̻̗̀͊ͅȎ̵͍͠ư̸̠͈̩̫͎̟͖͍͓̳̈́͗͑̑̽̊̅̄̍̆͐͘͜͝ͅt̵̡̨̠̱͍̹̹̫͚͎͚̀́̀͗͑͑̀̓̈́̊̂̕͠ȇ̴͎̟͆͑̿̆̌̌̏̃͝r̴̲͙̻̜͓̟̆̀̀̄̾͊̀͗͘͝ ̷̧̧̨̧̥̻̞̜̹̠̩̮̮̯̝̬́̀͑̿̌͌̄̃̌͗̌̏G̵̮̘̬̼̬̬̟̩̜̼̩̻͌ͅo̸̧̨̨̬̩͕͉͈͈͖̹̻̘̣͖͇̱̩̫͘͜ḑ̸͙͇̩͈̹̲̟̘̻͍̥̟̰͈̲͎̮̋͐͗̃̆̆͊̅̕͜͠͝͝s̵͉͕͍̿̎̄.̴̢̹̥͈͙̣̤̲̼̰̈́̉̒̈́͐̉”

The Crawling Chaos echoed, a thousand voice conjoined and mixed as one.

“Ǐ̵̧̄̈́͠ ̸̨̡̡̣̞̘͉̤͔̓̂͐͑̂̐͜a̴̧̡̩̕m̶̯͈͍̣͕͚̪͌̂̃̃͌̇̈́̏̀̉͜͠ ̴͕̲̍̾̽̋̑̓̉͋͐̾͘̕h̵̢̨͖̳͙̠̋̑̉̈́̎̿a̷̮͕̯̭̘̖͌̆͌p̵̝̦͗͋͗p̵̝̼̬̀̀̈́͌͐̅̋̋y̸͎͋͋̀͒̄̍̐͛̽͒̈́̚ ̴̨̖͉̮̳̺͇̖̱̝̊͒̕ṫ̸͓̰̿̀̐̓͘o̶̞̺̥̩̼͚̠͔͑̔͌̓̍̂́̈́̑́̇͘ͅ ̸̧͉̗̜͌͊̋̆͒͜ḩ̶̨̥̪̺̣̲͐̅̂̄̂̎â̸̙̜͉̜̥̝̲̬̭̅̓́͊̇̐̚͝͠v̷̯̣̞̘͊̈́̇̔̔͋̔̄͘ẽ̵̡͙̦̹̺̥̞̏̓́̓͌̀͒̂ ̷̳̥͗̈́͐̽͋̎̈́͜c̴̥̬̮̕ö̷͓̿m̶̧͕̝͕̥͖̜̻̺̱̦̻̽̀̏͊͑̑̐ṗ̴̜̙͈̑̉̅̔́͂́͝͝ǎ̷̬̙͉̰̎̄͊͜͜n̸͚̦̙̟̻̑̃̎ȳ̴̛̛̟̹̤̙̪̒́́̚͝.̵̢̱̜̞̫̻̮͕̰̝́̈͌̇̏̚”

The writhing mass of chaos condensed, and the transformation came to a halt.

"N̵͕̣̬͕͍̾̒̌͛̚͠o̴̡̥̭̠̩̗͑̌́̏̋̾͗̓̀ẁ̶̧̢̨̝̫͍͍̙͚͎͋͑̿̍̉̈́͊,̴̡͖̭̗̲͙̜̻̺͒̈́̆̊̾͐̈́̐̎̄̕̚ͅͅ ̵̥̘̹̣̖̏̃ĕ̶̛͉͇̹̪̗͓̯̬̖̥̬̼͔̃̔̇͐̚n̸̹̅́̉̒̽̓̚͝ṫ̶̨̲̖̙̮̦̉̄e̵͕̮̥̗̻̭̔͗͑̂̓͐͛̈̅̎̚͜͠ṛ̴̨͕̪̝͖̣̘͍̘͈̮̓͂̋͊̂̐̑̑͝ͅt̵̨̜̬̫̬̰̫̽̄̈́̒͋͋́̅̄̌̐͘͝͠ã̷̻͎̫̣͇͚͎͇̖̻̼̱̼̎̈́̕ï̷̡͙̯̼͉̤̅̊́̾̋̓̈́̕̚͜͝n̵̫̰̆́͛͝ ̴͍̅̈́m̷̛̖̣̮̰̕ͅe̷̛̼̞͔̹͍̘̤̊̏́̇̍̕͜.̴̳̰̫͈̪͎̼̹͈͚̟̭̊̎̒̔̍͌̀̑̀͜ ̵͖̊͛̆̍̍̓̑̀̀͘͠S̴̢̨̭̼̬͈̘̺̬̟̟̠̬͗̂ḫ̶̱̌̏͐̈́͗̂͐̑͐̀̿́ȯ̴̡̯͓̠̖͇̰̺̺̟͉̠͗̈́̿̑̂͐̚͠ͅw̴̫̥͙͔̭̼͈͈͖̹̏̔͆̀́̏́͐͋̐͑ ̴̢̲͉̗͚̪͂͌̋̎ḿ̸̨̛̛̱̙̪̖͍̱͖͉̜͍̽͋́̊̍̄̈́̈́̈́̚e̸̡̛̖̥̠̹̞̣̮̙̻̿̈́̌͐͗̑͊̃͜ ̴̳̳̣͓͎́͗̽̓ḑ̸̪͖͔̖̱̳̖̼͔̒̑̐̀̆͜e̷̡̨̡̠̖̞̫̳͔̩͊̈́̇͘ͅş̸̼̇̈̌͛̉̏̑͋͝p̸̛̛͇͇͚̫͈̞̊͒̓͒̀͂̑̊͝ã̵̭̻̱͓͎̦̅͊̌̎͌̽͆͝ͅḯ̵̧͙̩̤͓̭̉̓̉̽̄̀̀͝r̶̞̐͗͊̈̔̀!̸̡̩͚̯̗͖̼̲̺̐̿͐̇̏̃̆̃̿̃̆̈́͝”

The gigantic shadow shrieked, and countless blurry appendages shot towards Ainz.

Ainz braced himself, feeling power coursing through his bones he cast a myriad of spells in a flurry.

Innumerable appendages lunged for the Overlord, yet they impacted nothing, but a mirage.

Ainz held out the {Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown}, its seven gems flaring, its eighth darkening. Eight colossal figures rose around Ainz. Each well over level 100. They were the boosted versions of the elementals, and the eighth figure was death itself. They were unyielding in their assault, batting away the torrent of tentacles and clearing the madness before their eyes. However, even the eternal flame and the true avatar of death was thrashed into confusion. And ultimately banished back into wherever they’ve come from. The way cleared between the Overlord and the towering abomination.

Ainz finished casting an ultimate spell. An untold number of spells were stacked onto each other, boosting, and empowering the outcome. The spell was one he perfected while he rested in the void.

An explosion of power was followed by an unbearable pressure stifling the confusion in the vicinity.

There was nothing to confuse with the unadulterated truth. The power Ainz Ooal Gown held was absolute. A shock wave spread out in the unlighted chamber beyond time, and the maddening beating of drums, and the thin, monotonous whine of blasphemous flutes was disturbed.

“Y̸̢͔̼̦͖̩̅̕Ỏ̴̗͔̞̣̗̪͈̩͙͙͖̾͑͒̋̓̏̉̽̂̔̓̒̑͑̈́̑͌͛̂̓̾͂͝Ų̴̣͖̪̲̘͕̱͓͚͉̘̲͎̦̤͎͙̞̙̖̫̝̬͍͇̤̠̗̰̜̺̽̍̏̇͊͐̓̈́̏̋͒̆̀͊̈́͛̊̄́̈́̒̋̈́̎̋̎̕͠͠͝͝ͅͅ!̵̨͉͓̯̺͇̰̗͇͚͈̦̪͚͓̗̥͇̻̣̰̄̃̿̌̓͋̕͜ ̸̨̢̧͙̟̗̮̥͍̟̝͎̪̩̩̲̯̖̳̖͔͈̹̻̱̣̈́̎̊̊̎͛̕D̶̢̡̺͇̺̣̖͖̳͙͙̜̞̝̘̫̯̳̩̝̝͖̼̐͗̆͂́́͆͊͋̐̀͊͛͋̓̊̀̄̚͘͘̕͜͜͝ͅO̴̡̟̙̤͔̼̫̭̜͔͓̞̥̩̪̳͓̰͍͈̩̰̹͊̾̽̈́̓͋͌͗́̃̓̃͑̎̓N̷̨̨̢̧͙̥̟̙̲̦̺̯̮̹͍͖̻̺̳͉͇̯̩̖͓͈̖̣̊͐͆͗́͌̀̀̀͋̇̆̇̐̊̐͋́͑͌̓̈́͂̕͘͘͜͝͝͝’̷̧̡͚̟̬̮̯͔̟̗̦̲̜̙͎͖͓͕̫̦̀̓̒͜͜T̶̨̞̩̭̖̯̖̖͈̠̓́́͑̓́̈́̓̋́̏̉̀͒͌̌̑̌̚̕̚͜ͅ ̴̙̺̼̙̫͕̙͓͔̙͎͚͇̟̰̤͈̺̪̗͎͕͜͠ͅY̷̨̨̧͇̳͓̹̗̘̫͓͎̱͓̮̮̼̼̤͖̜̠̞̣͐̅̐̾͗̃̽͒͊̾̈́́̇̓͛̅̿̂̋̌̽̀͆͐̚̚͠͝O̵̧̳̦̻̠̭̫̺̝̝̪̖̫̒̑̋̂̑͝͠ͅƯ̵̧̧̨̛̛̝͉̲̩͇̰̪̥͍͙̦̞̭̩͎̱̠͔̮̖̅͛̈́̉̑̾̐̏̀͂͋̽̾̃̌̇͗̉͗̃̂̚͘͜ͅͅ ̷̯͇̝̮͚̖̻͇̱̙̒̀͒̿͜D̸̟̙͙̯̺̤͕͓̯͙̟̥̎Ą̴̧̘̬̩͓̤̩̩̘̻̮̦͍̺̱̲͍̪̯̣̳̳̗̝̹̯̬͉̥̺̓̌̄͂̅̏͛̄̓̑͐̒͜͠R̷̨̭̖̬͈͍̻̦̯̲̣͙̻̗̮̼̺̹̘͎̫̰̬̞̦͇͙̹̰̠̈́̇͌́̓̿̾̈͌̿̐͊̄̅͌̃̾̿̐͘̕̚̚̕͝͝͝Ē̴̬̘̳͕̣̽̍̌̓͌̇͌̄́̈͂̎̀́̐̍͑̉̀͘͝!̵̩͉̬̯̮́̋̋́̍”

The writhing giant shrieked, a mass of misty appendages shooting for the Overlord, and the giant form swayed, and buckled.

The gargantuan shadow, the chaos that formed the colossal dead black man came tumbling down on Ainz Ooal Gown. He could at last see the head of the Outer God, yet the shadow that fell over the Overlord did not put him at ease. The humongous form came clashing down, its millions upon millions of disfigured appendages all lunged for the skeleton, and Ainz answered in turn.

An unassuming sand glass shattered inside his right palm and a myriad of lights lit up around the Overlord, each exuded pure energy. He was about to unleash something terrific. The hold around the golden staff stiffened, as he invoked immense power. “{Eclipse: Ultimate Skill: The Death of Stars}!”

Everything was dyed in brilliant light, the luminosity making the atmosphere shiver. The spell discharged hundreds of thousands of Hypernovas. Supernovas fueled with untold amounts of energy that normally would only result in extreme core-collapse scenario, at the death of super massive stars. A type of stellar explosion that ejects material with unusually high kinetic energy, an order of magnitude higher than most supernovas. And hundreds of thousands lit up the nether realm.

The gigantic plummeting form of the Outer God was propelled backwards and gave just enough time for Ainz Ooal Gown to make a strategic retreat, in order to reassess his course of action, and perfect his plan to attain victory.

The Overlord warped to an undisclosed location within the clouds of confusion and entered his personal inventory. It was a sub-dimension where only he could enter, however he couldn’t rule out the possibility that an Outer God could breach if it really tried. For that reason, he made sure to enter on a sight unknown at the moment for the eldritch terror, winning as much time as possible for him to process what he has just learned, and come up with a winning strategy.

Its power and endurance were overwhelming, not to mention its ridiculous size. Although, he could work with that, all it did was give him a larger target, he would do well to shower the Crawling Chaos in brilliant rays of ultimate spells… however they were costly, even for the new him. He would have to trick the Outer God to lower its guard, and then strike a decisive blow, but the question remains.

How? How would he do that?

(…)

The Crawling Mist collapsed onto itself, and a normal-sized humanoid stepped out of the dark. The lean dead black figure, the Faceless God was restless. His movements haggard, and his mist fading.

The two black orbs that resurfaced on the face looked at the center of all infinity with worry.

A glint of fear that was uncharacteristic of an Outer God who stood above all. The Crawling Chaos came to a decision. They were only souls in the end… he could always sacrifice a few to make sure HE remains undisturbed. However, his pride didn’t allow for that, and for that reason, he’d have no choice but to crush this disturbance in the aether.

He reached out; his senses expanded on the domain. The mist searches, yet it cannot find its target.

He was nowhere to be found, yet he did not leave this dimension. Nyarlathotep was certain.

How could anyone escape his notice?! Blasphemy!

The Crawling Chaos abruptly stilled.

A plan forming inside his absurd mind. A lure… he needed a lure… and he had just the thing. A smile graced the dead black visage, and soon balls of lights materialized before the grotesque entity.

They’d do. He made the lights disappear, one by one.

(…)

Why?! How?! When?!

The questions upset the Overlord, as the flames tinged in yellowish green gazed at the balls of lights.

Everything was going according to plan. The Avatar was cut off, the connection severed. There was no way Nyarlathotep knew about his people. He may have said that he came for what is his, but how could he know about them? How could he know exactly to whom he was referring to?!

He had never given a name, nor a description… It couldn’t be… it couldn’t.

The aura around the Overlord became erratic as the orbs stared on.

He wouldn’t have… No.

He stared at balls of lights. Phantom images appeared above, and he saw. He watched how the guardians’ face twisted in untold agony, he watched their eyes haze over. He watched…

He was lured out, he recognized that fact. They were used as bait, and now he was the primary target. That damnable abomination. It used what could very well be his last and sole weakness.

People he loved.

Orbs darted around, delaying not a second on each familiar visage. The sight of his beloved guardians, children was unbearable. However, the absence of one was even more depressing.

Ellee was nowhere to be seen. Not amidst the hundreds of souls floating idly around the abomination, nor anywhere else where the Overlord’s perception could reach.

“A̷̝̬̲̥̙͌̏͗͜i̵̢̖͇̣͊̉̾̈́̐̇͛n̸̂ͅz̶̤̞̍́̄͜͝ ̵͚̝̳̺̒͌̽͛̀͜Ơ̴̥̮̟̘̻͂̇͐̏̋͒ỏ̸̡͎̼̟̜̠ą̴̙̣̤̞̼̘̓̍͑̋̐̕͠l̷̞̥̩͆̈̋́̚ ̶̩̗̟̇̀̔̀̿͐G̵̨̥̘̗̻̤̈́̆ỏ̸̭̜̠́̈́͂͝w̵̹̖̩̔n̸͙͖͈͈̠̫̈́̊̂̓̊.̸̬͕̲̅͆͗͑̍ ̷̨̡̂͑̊̂̕Ą̵̨̛̬̤̕͝ ̵̧̘̤͓̻̉̓̾̔̐S̵̹͆̈́͂͛̈̕ų̴̡̡̛̣͔͕͛͌̐̕p̶̧̧̥̠̗͇͇͌̅ŕ̶͈̀̑̉͠e̸͕̝̊̄͑m̸̢̜͍̙̩͔͈̐̋͒̀̍̆̅e̵͔̳̤̓ ̵̙͖͇̠̣̞̭̒̑̿͋͌͘̕b̷̧̨̧̞͙͝e̷̝̲̟̤̜̤̩͐͆͆̍̐͑i̶͎̣̋n̸̳̗͈̗̳͔͙̓̑͒͘ǧ̴̡̥͉̻̺̑͝?̵̟͒̈́̌̓͘͠ ̴̛̟̝̻͇̦̺͌̂͐H̵̨̨̠͎̟̭́̾͛̊̊͊͝a̸̢̲͚̫͈͋̒̏͠r̶̡̙͉̮͜͝d̴͚̖̻̱̥̹̬̑̉͛͝͝l̸̨̟͔̘̳̫̗̆̉̋̒̊͘y̴̥̼̣̬͚͔̋.̸̧͕̫͎̯̞͒͛̑͗͆͌͋ ̵̡̥̦̖̯͋͑”

A mocking voice echoed in the ambiance. The black man taunted.

“T̵̛̜̼̗̈́̏h̷͕̤̠͒̾̂e̴̔̀ͅy̴̼̞̱͒̕ ̸͖̑́̃̿h̸̲̹̲̀ā̷͕̩́̔̈d̷̯̼̣̈́͝ ̴̠̞͎̑̾ā̷̝̙̥́n̴͎̲͊̄̊̅ ̶̩̱͚͋̎ȏ̸̩̦v̶̧̪̟̈́͛e̵͇̭̝̔̀r̸̨̯͚̔̍l̷̻͉̀̓͐y̵̢͇͕̓̄̊͝ ̷̙͐̇̀g̵̗̠̜̜̓r̷̳̫̐ȧ̶̤͕̋n̴̹̤̤̒͒̃̍d̶̢̹̮͚̋́ì̶̖̯͖͊͋ͅo̶̥̰̮̳͒s̶̛̝̓͌͝ͅë̶͚̫̭́̉̄̅ ̵̡̨̗̺̊̋i̶͇̓̀m̸̡̹͚̎ã̷͎͔̲͜g̴̬̺͗̅̕͘ě̷̜͎̜̐͛̃ ̶̨̬̫͊̓̎͐o̴̠̫̲͊͊͠f̴̢̝̦̀ ̸͇̂ȳ̸̯̮̰̞̽ȯ̴̥͍̳u̵̻͍̾.̷̻̤̓̈́͘.̵̯̝͙͆.̷̡̳͔̘͐ ̵̟̝̥̦͐͑̀͝Ä̵̠̆͋͆l̵̯̫̝̏̑͋͐l̴̺̈́̀̓ ̷̯̈̏̅̚ͅI̵̟̲͍̬̍̀̐ ̷̖̥̞̋͐̏̏s̶̩̍̚ē̵͎̜̩̈ë̸͖̰̚ ̸̙͍̊̾i̵̟̿̎̿̚ŝ̷̗̠͋̕͠ ̸̡̬͖̕a̶̝̋͋̓̂ ̶̛̖̹̈́͑̕l̸͎̀̐ö̸̙̒͠s̷̺̥̑̌̅t̷͆͜ ̴̱̮̱̈s̴̙͉̪̐͂͐o̷̧͉̒u̵̜̦͈͠͝l̴̲͚̐̏͝ͅ,̸̨̩̾̈ ̴̳̭̏́͘͝w̷̛̙̱͂̊ä̸̢͕̻́̀ĭ̴̩ţ̶̮̒į̸̛͕͘n̶̠͎͚͐ͅg̶̡͎͖̊̓̀̕ ̴̖̙͇̾f̸̥͍̙͔̉o̶̭̥̓͘ȓ̴̰̠͝ ̷̺̼͙̜̆̌͆i̸̪̞͕̇͑̈́̅t̷̻͖̝͔͆ ̶̭̻́t̷͓͉̋̉o̵̻̦̐͝ ̸̻̳̜͇̈́̑͂b̸̟̈̕e̶͕̯̮͌̕͝ͅ ̴̰̫̄ṕ̷̱͘͝͝l̷̨͚̩̺̈́͂u̸̧̲̩͇̽̿̆̊c̷͉̜͇̞̽͆k̵̬̼͈̒͊̐͠è̸͇̘̃͐͛d̸̞̔̏̓̎.̸̮͛.̷̝̦͖̬͆̈́̈͆.̷̯̹͐́̀͘ ̸̨͓͍͂͆̚͜D̸̘̤̟́͂͘ọ̶̧̞͐̽͝ͅn̶̨̰̙͖͋̍̔͗'̵͕̤̖̠͆͐̍͛t̸͚͒̑ ̷̻͐͊͠͠ẁ̶̥͙̯̔ͅồ̵̹̞̥̅ṙ̵͕̣̎͌̌r̵̜͒̐͠y̶̭̖̱̍́̆͌ ̷̜͆̓́t̶̬̠̂̿̑̐h̵̩̻͋̆̋o̴̜̮̠͖͐̑̅u̷̬͙̦͍̍̓̒̓g̸̨̬̗̦͐̾̒͝ḣ̴̳̤̀̈́̓,̸͍̼͚̣̋̐ ̴̡͖̈͑s̵͎̬̩̔̎͝o̸̝͘ó̵͙̏͗́n̷͎͙͓̓͠ ̵̗̪͑͛͝y̵̡͍͚̆̏̐ơ̶̗̻̯͛͋̎u̵͇͍̗̒͛͗̌ ̷̢͚̈́͠w̴̗̺̝̉̑̀̍i̸̟͚͋̀̈́̀l̵͉͇̤͒̾l̵͙͖͚͂́ͅ ̴͉͛̇j̶̫̮̔̂ō̶͉̩̤i̵̢̙͖̇n̵̝̟̎́ ̵̙̫͖̿̂̕ţ̵̢͈̹̈́̐͑̆ḧ̴͓̝́̅ę̶͙̠̬̀̊͐m̵̢̻̓.̵̈̆͗̓͜”

He was played. Should he fight now? No, the crawling chaos may consume their souls. It was not an optional outcome. The moment he felt their presence he left the safety of his inventory, and there was no going back. Not when he was this close. Who knew what that abomination would do to them?! Ainz delayed no longer. And did what he did best. Invoked magic.

“Ý̴̜̦̥̳͂ě̶̢͎͚͚͍̓s̴͉̗̲̩͗̾̈̀͜͠ͅ!̸̫̔̓̉̾̃͆ ̴̬͇͠Ț̷̠̩͈͔̠͋̄̓r̸̡̬̱̭͍̈y̷̡̡̗̦̌̀̊̓͜͝͠ ̶̡̾ą̷͔͊̏s̷͍͈̮̟̈̃̈͗̓͜͜ ̶͈̊̒ý̵̨̛̳̺̲͖̊̇̏o̷̡̗̠͇͎̪͑͝u̵̗̮̙̣͈̅̇̏ ̸̞̰̱͈̒̇m̶̌͛ͅi̵̛̭̹̗͑̾̔̃g̷̼̘̱̞̐ͅh̸̫͇͕̭̣̀̿̎͘ͅẗ̴̩̘̼̯́̒,̸͖͑̀̿̉̚ ̷̧̊̒͝y̷̟̳̗͑̄o̶̧̔ư̴̢̰̚ ̷̝͋̀͑̍̚ẘ̵̮͕̲̦̈͑͋͝i̸͙͕̥̯̔̈́͗̄͠ͅl̷̜̳̩̪̘͒̆̑͒͗͗l̴̖̦̀ ̶̛͍͕̬̤͛̍̄̇͋f̴̳͇̺̲̈́̇à̶̱̪̳͈i̶̡̛͖̟̠̤̪͂̅͊̉l̶̗̕!̸̨̼̞̯̽ ̴̘͉̭͕͝S̶͇̦͎̟̾̑̆̀̃̕ḫ̵̼̈́̚ō̴̠̓̋͂̑̈́w̵̪̥͐̂̈́̉̎͠ ̶̖͈̥̒m̶̗͙͚͛ė̸̢͎̈́̓͘!̶̼̣̖̳̳̦̇ ̶͔̳̣̩͔̾̍S̶̝̰̝͗ḧ̴̲̻̬̠́̐͠ŏ̷̱̯̍̋̂̇͠w̸̧͎̠̮͉̄ ̷̺̹̣̲͈͔̏̅͘ḿ̴͇̰̰̬̘̄̎ė̷͓͎̅̏̾͐̾ ̷̬̽y̷͖̻͈̠͗̆͜o̶̭͗̏̑̔ͅu̴̪̔̎̏͘̕r̶̫̜̖̩͇̈́ ̵̝̰̾̚ḏ̴͛̀̇é̸̢͕̩̱̒̈́̈́̓ṡ̶̭͇͇̀͑͋p̴̟̘͈̐ȁ̷̡̹i̷̡͙̙̤͉̼̔̈́̀r̷̢̮̯͘.̶̲̔̽”

Nyarlathotep shrieked, and the mist writhed and expanded in anticipation.

Ainz invoked magic. “{Wish Upon a Star}” the {Shooting Star Ring} radiated a brilliant light. Atop the golden staff, the volume of the souls wailing in torment soared to new heights as they were sucked inside the brilliant ring. The light ebbed away, and all that remained was darkness.

Black lightnings tinged in yellowish green danced around the {Shooting Star Ring}, before suddenly a wave of darkness erupted around Ainz Ooal Gown. He had to act quick. He may yet save them.

“{Certain Hit}” he said, followed by an ultimate spell. “{Complex Dimensional Prison}.”

{Complex Dimensional Prison} is a spell which traps any target within a complex number of spatial dimensions. The target would be incased within an imaginary number of dimensions. A mathematically imaginary place, which basically means that any access or interaction with the real world would be impossible. Their plane of existence simply wouldn’t coincide with our own. Resulting in the target’s abilities and powers being useless, regardless of how strong they were. A barrier where escape from the inside was wholly impossible.

That said the target was an Outer God, an inconceivable existence, to whom rules don’t apply. Ainz could only hope that the spell would hold long enough to execute his objective. The spell took effect, and the Black Man was encased and disappeared from sight.

Abruptly a feeling of trepidation overcame the Overlord, and he turned his skull.

A wormhole collapsed onto itself as soon as it appeared, and two unspeakable terrors warped to the unlighted chamber beyond time. Yog-Sothoth, the All-in-One and Shub-Niggurath, the All-Mother.

A mass of glowing orbs, with unblinking eyes, and tendrils of madness. The glowing orbs twisted and morphed, bubbled, and exploded, only to create new, impossible forms and shapes of all sizes on the surface of the Key and the Gate.

Next to the undisputed terror only under the Daemon Sultan himself a cloud of tentacles, swirling and twisting in uttermost perversion, towering at the same height as the mindless gargoyles—the ultimate gods lulling the Inconceivable, Azathoth Lord of All— was no other than Shub-Niggurath.

The two terrors, titans among their kind alerted the Overlord, and a flurry of flashes burst aflame around the ancient undead as Ainz readied himself for the worst possibility. If these two were to join the Crawling Chaos, forget victory, his chance of survival would plummet to zero.

While one of the two would be more than happy to join and shower the undead in all the perversion and misery the abyss had to offer, the one in charge prohibited such notion. He came to watch, to have a little fun. Any intervention would be utterly unforgivable.

Although, the One-in-All already knew how this would play out, it’d be still more fun than having the All-Mother trample the little soul while the Crawling Chaos damned it to the foul orchestra.

Yog-Sothoth made an incomprehensible motion, and the amorphous glowing orbs along with the tendrils of utter madness collapsed onto itself, and a vaguely humanoid shape resurfaced.

Its body was coated in a blurry substance, and his head and face were devoid of any hair. The face, or where it should’ve been, was obscured by a moving avalanche of fluid glowing orbs. And the mere sight of the man screamed confusion, madness, and desolation.

Shub-Niggurath wasn’t far behind, she too began to morph into a more comprehensible shape. The black tentacles of uttermost perversion became more placid, and soon they repurposed themselves as a mass of feelers occupying the scalp of a vaguely humanoid creature.

It had distinct feminine features; however, she too was soon engulfed in a blurry substance. A layer of protection for the mortal eyes. Her face was a swirling white mist, only her eyes and a wide grin were distinct. They were the deepest of black, yet they were filled with desire and appeal.

Yog-Sothoth held out a scrawny hand, merely a line of darkness, and held her hand.

The two sat backwards, and reality warped, and creation obeyed. Underneath their butts a divan of scarlet appeared lined with unrestrained embellishment. The two set their sights on the battle, each to their own delight.

Shub-Niggurath felt relieved, it appears justice had a way of making itself known. While Yog-Sothoth merely looked on, the faintest sparks of anticipation lighting his black heart.

An echo of a sound alerted Ainz Ooal Gown. The Overlord quickly turned back. There… where the seal took effect the atmosphere was sizzling. Pounding became perceptible as the low noises soared in volume. There was no time, the spell would not hold forever. He recognized the balls of lights, within he could envision his people, his guardians, and his family. He had to save them now.

Ainz targeted the poor souls and cast, “{Memory Wipe} {Clear Status Alignments}” a gentle glow enveloped the orbs, “I hope you find in your hearts to forgive me.” He sighed, and finished casting, “{True Resurrection} {Forced Teleportation}.” He was left alone in the center of all infinity.

The sentimental moment was cut short as a rift tore open between dimensions and mist blew out. The Crawling Chaos was free, and he was not amused. The writhing mist took form once more, and Ainz found himself face to face with the true visage that embodied original evil. The Faceless God.

“Y̴̢̱̟̱̦̰͉͔̱̲̔͛͗͗͋̓̈́̕ͅo̷̬̹̞̜͔̐̐͌ư̴̥̜̒̾̂̿̆̍̍̉̿̍̿̏͆͌̏͘͘͝ ̷̢̨̥̯̰̪͓̼͎͙̩͚̜͈̥͉̬̮͌̀͜͜w̸̨̢̛͖̦̺̬̥͙̮͎̖̗̎̄į̶̡͇̪̜̫̩̹̦̱̬̝͚̺̌̍͊͒̊̌̈́͆͗́͐̐͒̌͋͛̔̚̚͘ͅl̴̟͔͔̼̠̮͊̈́̈́͗̀̚͝l̶̨̤̜̗͈̘̿͂͜…̶̡͈̜͖̬̘̮̣͓̑̊̄͋͑̒ ̸̫̜̓̂͜͠͝͠ş̸̨̪̳͕͔͚̲͇͔̙̫̗͂̄̇̈̿̈́̇̓̓ū̷̟͇̱͍̠̳͖̼͚͚f̷̡̤̻͚̗̲̫̫̙̀̍̑̈́́̂͊̃̋̎̉̈̕͝͠f̴̧̧̛̩̯̜͎̫͉͓̗͇͛̾̔̚ȩ̷̡̧̰̼̣̝̯͉̦̮̌̃̂̾͊͗͛̾̊̕̚̚͜͝r̸̮̠̔̅̿͂̆͆͊̄͗̓̑͌͑̾͛̊͝͝͝!̷̛̛̳̜̼̬̘̟͌̍͑̃”

The mist shrieked, and countless blurry tentacles and disfigured limbs lunged for the Overlord, each packing a punch that could send galaxies swirling out of orbit.

“I̵̢̜͙̳̲͔̮̩̝͂̃͐̃͑̇͑̂͋́̎̍̊̚̚̕ ̵̡̡̡̦̜̹̯̞̹̦̭̟̈́ẁ̴̢̢̡̤̫͓̜̙̬̤̱̟̗͓̳̣̈́̎͝i̷͇̺͚͎̣͍͚͈̭̲̩͉̠̤͊́̍̀̊͆̏͐̾͛̅́̎́̉͜͝l̸̢̛͓̙̠͎̫͍̼͓̠̙͌̉̏̐̅̈́̾̈́͆͑̀̀̕͠l̴̦̅̍̓̅̎́̚͠͝ ̶̛̺͛̾̊͆͘ͅe̸̢̛̝̰͎̼̹͔̭̦͚̱̰̱̼̟̲̺͛̆͗́̅̅͛͌̚͜͜͜͠͝͠n̵̥̰̠͍̖̤̯̹̟̤̖͉̥̳̗̊̿͆̌̐̈̓̃̍͌̏̄̎͘͝d̸̖͇͉̺̫̙̍̀̊̑̾͒͂̆̆́̑̒̐̔͒̈́̽͌̋͝ ̷̡̯̖̹̥̖̬̰̰̙͎̭͂͑̾̊̚ͅy̶̨̨̨̡͙̙̳̙̹̹͕̪̪̙̠̞͔̼͐̍͝͝ͅͅó̶̦͚̮̉͐̈͋͌͐̀͜͝͝ư̶̢̧̬̬͖̣̩̻̪͉̫͈̣̩̥̻͆͗̔͑͆̏͆̄ͅ ̵̨̛̪̳̯͔̦̗̦̙̐͛͑̈́̊̀͐́͗̾͐͝ͅa̷̡̢̻͓̲̝̍͊̊͒̓͒̓̂̔̾̓̋̅̀̊͂̋ņ̴̢̨̥̝͎̻͍̤̯̼̹͔̱͎̀̃̆ḑ̵̧̳̺͇̫̗̰̼͕̖͉̺͉̪̩̀̃̉͒̉̑̕͜͠͝ ̷̛͖͐̍̄m̵̡̨̹̤̪͔̼̫͔͎̞̤̯̦̼͉͆̆͛͛̍̇͑͆́a̵̡̢̫̝̱̹̤͎̯͓͉̻̯͍̅̌̔̂̿̓̀̐̑̆̎̌̎̕̕͘͝͠ͅͅk̵̭̜͇̮͖͙̱̞̬͉̬̖̲̻̟̬͑́̎͂̕͜ȇ̷͈̩̘̺͋̉̐̓̈́͆̓̐̀͠ ̷̠̤̺͚̰̮̜͖͈̗̹͔̪͓͉̟̀̍̈́̈́̓̏̈́̊̏͐̈́͊͐̅̈̌̃̕͝ͅͅy̶̜͊̃̽̃̾̌͂̓͌̾͒̒̎́́̌̕͠ő̶̰͇̹̬͈̪͓̭̰͔̓̄̀̑̆u̵̘̞̙̬̖̯̟̲͆̓̓̑̓͂̓͂͋̒͌̇͋̋̚̕͘͠ ̸̞͉͙̝̼͊̉̐̌͒̾͆̊̈̎͠a̷̢̢̨͕̺̰̣̪̯̜̱̱͖̰̳̬̝͙͍͈̍̍̎̈́͌̀̂͐͝͝ ̶̛̱͂͂͑͌̉̏̅̏̂̈́͒̒̕̕̕͝͝͝m̷̗̪̱̯̹͈͈̬̹͕͕̬̻̃̈̓̏͂͗͜ͅȋ̵̛͎̫̘̣͖̤̲̼͉̟͇̠̹̙̦̩͎̰̤̓n̷̩͍͋͑̓̚͠͝ͅḍ̵̢̰̘͔͕̻͖̠̲̝̙̼͉̫̺̎̾̔̏̑̍̍̄͂̔͒̈́̉͊͘͝l̶̢̫̈̌͜ę̷̡̺̣̥͚̗̞̩̺̯́̒̈́̎̈́̄̉̊s̷̨͕̱̬̻̱̯̝̉́͌͌̀̋̕̕͜͝͠ș̸̢̘̫͙̠̭̭̬̯̩͕͇̲̝͇̤̤́́́̽͘͝ ̷̹̼̘̮̜̰̙͇͉̥̤͎̙̤̦̙̟̮́͒̑̃̈̔̓̂́̓̒͆͊̈́s̵̛̰̦͍̋̀̇̐͂̀̀̓͐͋̀͝l̵͙̻͈̘̉͐̚͘ä̶̢̛͓͚̻̥͈̞͉̍̉̔̀͊̑̋̈̀̂̅͐͛̚͠͝v̸̯͎̽̔̇͊ę̸̡̛̛͎͔̯̦̫͇̹̞̎͂́̋͌̉́̽̅͂̚͜ ̷̤̥̯̳̠̳̙̞̗̝̹̖̠͐̆͛ͅt̴̡̡̢̻̤̻̟̳̫̰̦͎̝̹̲̲̠̠̃̀̒́̍͆̓̈̇͝ỡ̶͈͍̖̝͉̼͕̖͙͎̲͈̠̈͂̂́̈́͗̓͆͝ ̶̨̫̱͙͚̙̩͓̘͖͓̹͕̼͎̟̅̋̀̽͜͜t̷̢̮͈̯̦̳͈̻̟̀̿͒̐͒̂̾̀͝ͅḩ̶̛̛̘͉̺̦́̏̊̎͂͂̃̉͆͐̉̉̄̈́͗̚͘͜ͅè̴͖̺̗̼̖̖̊͒̋́͆̒̀̽͜ ̴̧̡̻̣̘̰̿͗̄̾̀͝ D̷̢̢̨̨̛̯̹͔̠̤̦͖̮͎̬̺̞̟̠͔̫̳̦̲̺̫̞̝͖̔̋̋̋̑̈́̊̋͛̾̂̍͌̽͋̏̈́́̇́̔̈́̈́̅̀͗͊͛̎̕̕͝͠ȩ̴̛̻̭̥̺̜͙̮̥̪̪̪̈͛́̆͆̆̔̅̀̈̆̋̊͆̾͝ḙ̵̢͚͇͓͖̖̜̮̠͓̱̙͈̖͕͈̝͍͉͚̪̺̚ͅp̴͓͎͎͙͓̞̩̻̯̬̿̔̐͋́͛͒̕ ̷̨̛͔͕͓͕̺̥̟̩̍͂͊̔̈́͑͛͑̇̾̃̅͒́̐̍̿̐̏̔͌̏̓͋̀͆͘̚͘͝D̶̡̨͎͚̦̮͔͕̝̝̍͐̂̿̾̒̾̂̊̾͂̉̂͌̉̈́̏̚͘͝͠͝͝͝ą̵̛̤̝̮̟̗̖̫̫͍̤̱̗̝̭̮̝̯̂͂̈́͑͒̈̇̉́̏̌̀̀̌͆̅͒̑̏̃͑́͂̀͂͌̍̎͊̕͘͝͠r̴̨̫̱͓̠̗̭̣͔̝͉̯͆̇̀̇̀͠k̴̢̧̨̢̧̡̭̺̘̲͎̼̖̺̤̘̫̬͈̦̟̜̠͍̐̉̓́̈́̉̃͜!̷̡̢̧̢̛͓̰̞̘̗̙͔̰̣̞̱̺̟͓̠̣̓͛̃͗̿͌̐̉́͊̈́̃̃̋̄̀̽͐̈́̌̿͘̚̚͜ͅ”

Nyarlathotep screeched, the confusion dense in the clouds of swirling mist coming down on the Overlord.

““̸̗̟̰̻͇̇̽̈̐͛̀̀̉̊̾͆͠Ȋ̷̛̤̘͖̦̟͎͕̞͍̰̏̆̂̾͛͋͋̕̕͠͝͝ͅ ̸̧̡̨̢̦͙͇͇̥̳͚͇̫̭̹͇͉̥͐͊̏͜͜͝͝w̸̨̧͇͈̠͍̩̝̟̹̹̬̟̙̪̪̝̽̆̊̉̈́̄̔̋̇͐̀̅͘i̷̪͍̖̓̍͒͗̊̀̇͌̇̒̔̎́̆͂̑̚͝͠͝l̶̜̭͕̣͚͈̰̰̟̩̝͓͙͕̆̊̌̾̏̑̆̇̐̐͑̍́̅̂̑͑͜l̵̛̥͈̳͊͆̊̉́̊̓͝ ̸̛̫̪͓̇̈̿̀̒̒̚͝͠t̴̨̖̱̩͉͍̳̟̀͐̄̉͘a̷̢̢̧̛͖͍͖̹̟͍͈̘̦̟͔͚͓̠͓͖̓̇͗̃͐͐̊̎̈́͑̓͑͒̏͊̃̊̄͂k̶̨͚̖̞͙͈̞̩̻̫͖͓͉̺̠͉̘̝̘̬̓e̸̼̽̍̄̂̇̓̽̿͆̓̅̀̋̿ ̷̛̤̪̰̲͕̺̫̝̣͖̅̌͒̀̿̍̃͂̎̄̈́̈́͗̎͐͛̕͠͠͝a̸̧͉̞̮̜̜̦͍̰͖͇͉̫̰͉̳͍̠͎̯͓̠͚̽̓̕ͅw̸̛̞͕͎̭̮̬͓̞̭̭͕͔̝͇̱̙̣͔̙͍͙̠͕̿̈̽̽͆̃̀̿͗̃͛̉̽́̚͝͠͝͠ͅȁ̴̢̝̯̦̩̜̲̱̠̜̃̈́̎͝ỳ̵̢̖̜͈͆̔̍̽̈́̚ ̴̡̢̜̠͕̳̯̲̙͎͉̼̎̔̏̇̅̍̋̍͗͘è̴͇̘̦̫͔̪̙̪̘͓͍͇̫͙̘̞̭̟̳̖̙͎̓̓̌̅́͋̈͊̈́̓͝v̵̨̢̛̦͚͈̮̹͖͖̞̳̜͈͖͉̳̇̊͐͆̌̏̋́̀̏͌̎̌͊͂͊́͗ͅͅȩ̸̳͎̰͇͔͉̮̙͍̼̥̼̟̦̠͙͉̪̮͇̗̭͒͆͐̔́͆̍̊̔́̍͑̕͜ŗ̶̜͖̯̣̱̳̞̝̯̋̀̈̇̌̍͐̒̌̓͒̂̓͝ͅý̸̡̧̯̦̰̲̰̗̹͓͕̺̦̙̦̙̱̈́͗̇͗̂͌̏̾̋̈́͒̓̾͊̐̔͂̕̕͠ṯ̴̨̲̦̤̰̰͕̏̽͛͑̒̑̿̄h̶̡̨̪͓͉̰͍̥̱͕͇̦̞̬̜͈̜̪̱̖̙̣͂͂̈́̓̍͒̅̕̚͜͜ḯ̷̤̝̼̪̻̬͆͂͐̀̂̎̒̀̿̔͂͑ṉ̸͇͔̠̟͍̤̖̞̾ģ̸̘̼̈́ ̵͎̯̰́̀͌̏̄̊͊̀̏̎̕͘͝͝ÿ̷̨̛̙̗̯̘̳̭͔̯̪̊̀̋̏͗̆̉̑̾͐̒̈͒̀̚͘̕͝ơ̶̤͓̙͖̲̼̯̦̹͔̦̯̙͚̯̈̓̀͛͛̌͆͐͋̋͑̃̑̚̚ư̵̲̹̈́̂́͗̌̎͆͂̌͑̂͒͑̌̔̒̔̆́͒̓͝͠ ̴̢͈͕̱̦͊̔̓͗͆̂͛̋͂͂̈́̆̅̓͆͛̑͂͘l̶̢̢͖̮̫͇͖̻̮̬̞̳̰͎͆̈̈̿̓̃̐͆̒̓̚͜͝͝͝o̴̤̤̜̼̯̟̟̠͉̩͔͛̉̂̀̇̎v̸̯̩͉̻̰̠̜̫̬̭̲̀̓͐e̸͖̠̤͔̩̦͙̰͎̖̹͖͈̪̭̜̜͔̼̫͍͖͝!̵̢̢̡̖̪̺̺͍͈̬̰̻̦̦̦̱̗͓̥̩̒̎͑͐̀̐̒͛̐͂̂́̉̿̉͌̅̊̇̚͜͝͝͠͝ͅ”̸̢̖̻̲̿͐̈́̄͌̃͂͗̾͘͠ ̷̛͎̬̥͇̙̥̔͌̅̋̿̋͌̊̈̓̾́̋̚͝”

Ainz was wholly enclosed within a cocoon of darkness, slithering noises accompanied the swirling tentacles lashing out from all directions.

“A̸̹̟͇̻̭̔̔̒̀̿̈́̓̀̋̾̿̉̿̿͘͘͝f̷̢̨̡̡̘̭͓͕̤̻̮̞̖̰̮̤͈͓͇͇̰͉̣͂͋̈̽t̴̟̦̩̜̍͒̆͌̒̊͗̇͐͌̎̿̍͊͒̕͜è̵̙̮̟̹̪͉̰̦̗̳̤̹̻̘͋͆͠͝ṛ̴̡̡̥̼̦̦͔̱̥̠͈̗̻͍̮͖̮̹̱̘́̀̂̈́͌̀̌͂͌͊̍̄͒̔̒̍̕̚͜͝ͅ ̸̹͔͉̗͕̙̺̦̥̞̀͊̓͂̓̐̍̓̍͋͒͘̚I̷̡̲̠̭̤̪͓̩͉̹͈͕̱͖̩͚̝̹̟̿̀̎ ̷̡͚̙͇̻̞̰͚̙̖̫̘̭͉͖̫͍͒̍̓́̈́̓̅́̅̅̾̈́͐̚ͅȁ̵̡͖̠̙̳͕̩̋̅̃̓́͒͗̐̉̓̈̿̂̕̚͝m̷̨͔̫͙̺̥̪̲̦̯̮̰͍̳̺͍͓̩̽̓͜ ̶̢͎͕͎̥͇̬̱̺̠̀͋́̉̏́̂͒̿̚ͅͅd̶̡͕̱̲̟̭̠̪̗̩̝̘̈̐̆̂͗̒̌̀̓̃̈́̈̌͋͋̚̕̚͝͝͝͝ͅő̶͈̺͓̘͈̮͒̾̈́̀̈́͋͊̌͑͛̅̈́̌͘n̷͖̯͈̼̰̤̭͚͉͈͔͙̬̲̯̞͚̠̟̥̈̎e̸̞͑̑͑̃ ̴̛̪͙̑̇̋̎͘̕w̴̛̛̛͎̾̊͐̾͊̈́͐̓̊̾́̅̆̀̊͋͛̈̍͠í̷̜̘̪̰̊͗͂͐̎̈́͝ţ̶̮͓͈̄̓h̶̪̲̣̘͙͇̗͍̦̠͙̼̣̮̏͗̈́̀͒̆͆͘̕͝ ̴̢͉̟̹̹̰̟̝̜͒́́͐̅͐͝y̴̧̩̹̫͎̒͠o̴͚͕̜̓̿͂̑͋̕ȕ̵̮̬̎͑̕,̶̲͔͍̲̹͙͇͔͋̃̆͌̓̍̐͗̂̿̎̈́͘̚̕͘͝ ̵̛̠̙͔͍̘͙̦̊̎̇̒́͗̿̊̏̌̇̌̐̆̈́̔͛̄͝ÿ̸̛̖̩̠̜̦͎͇͈̦́̏̏̂͛͋̾͂͂̑̐̔̔̅̕̚͜o̷̢̮̗̖̜̹͚͈̥͈̬̩̭̐̈́́̂͒͑͊͊͂̉͌͛̕̕͝͝͠ú̷̧̡̹͔͍͙̹͎͖͖͕͔͍̣̬͌͂̓̅̋̓̽̾̋̈́̾̕͜ ̴̢̧̘͎̼̳̞̦͎̝̘̭̻̬̞̮̰͈̜͊́̓̈́̃̈̈́̓̈̑͝͝w̵̢̧̛̳̫̠͎̞̝͊̈́̍̐́ͅͅī̸̡̨̤͖̻̭̣͍͙̪͈̩͔͖̰̘̠̬̳̀͐̈́͋̽̅͜ͅl̷̘̬̦̗͓̰͒̋̿̃l̵̡̪̗͙̩̭̞̓͌̂͑̊̿͑̂̒̇́͘͠͝͠͝ ̴̡̢̤̯͍̝̤̟͍̳̠̳̆̑͋̑̑̂̄̀̑͌͐w̵̢̗̙̩͚͔̪̭̞̱̳͖͈͗͋͛̈́͂ą̷̧̛̥͎͉̱̖̯͓͙̥̫͕̙̣̬̬̗̑̾̌̔͑̈́̃͆̍́́̒͋͒͠͝͠ͅt̶͔͕͖̱̽̾̈́̊́̅́̍͌̒͒́̕͜c̶̢̛͔̱̺̯̯̖̠͐̔̽̚͠h̶̢͚͉̘̮̅̈́̆͆̆̎̏̀͒̂͘͝͝ͅ ̴̞͕̝̤̙̬̻̅̑̒̎y̴͈̒̌͂̃ơ̴̘̹̙̘̫͎͖̟̝̯̥̣̏̀̐͗͗̄̍̓́́͑̓̏̆̃͊͛̈̎̄͠͠ȕ̷̡̧̨̡̧̼̞͈̣̖̪̼͎͈̪͔̿͋̄͆̓͋̌̐̑̎̎͘r̷̨̢͍̙̝̦̭͕̉͒̿̀̅̽̕̚̕ ̶̖͆̑̂̅͝w̵͎̜̗̭͓̰̿̾͌̋̓̐̚͜͠ơ̷̢̪̼̣͕̥̙̥͕̫̜͙̦̹̳̘̘̣̖̰͑̀̊̈́̈́̊̚̚͜͜͝ͅȑ̴̡̢̡̙̞̩̤̳͈̯͚̥͈͌͂̃̆̒͊́́̐̄̈́̈́̚̕͠l̷̛̫̭̖̰͉̍̄̓̃̍̃̀͑̽̉̆̓̇̐͆̈̚̚͘͝d̴̨͎́̈́̄̐̓̏̆̀̂͆͑̿́́͗̍̈́̂͘͜͝ ̸̬̀͛́̄̅͂̔͂̈̏̐̓̏̄̕͝ͅb̷̡̰̗͓͉̤͙̤̎̆̓̊̍͑ͅų̴̢͍̼̻̻͖̪̣͖̹͓̖͎͉̦͚͒̈́̔̋́̃͠ͅŗ̴̪͈̯̞̦̗͓͇̙̍̿̉̐͒̌͆̋̈́̌͂͑̕͜n̵̢̙̳͎͚̋͌̈́̍͠͝͝ ̵̢̛͓̈́͒̀͋͒̔̄̕̚t̸̳͇̬͈̝͕̩̜̥̭̟̀̓͒͋͒̇͌̈́̄̈́o̵̪̤̟̠̥̍͗͒̈̈́́̐̒͌̉̈́̒̇̚̕͝͝ ̵͉̟̳̜̭͕̥͒̀͂͝a̶̢̮͈̫͈̩̙͇͖̬̯̠͌̎̓̌̾͑̅̒̒̔̽̓͗̎͂͆̀̌̕͝͠ş̷̧̛͓͕̳̜̤͖̯̘̜̤͈͕̭̪͕̥̝͙̆͋̓̏͌̎̎̄ͅh̷̢̥͍̆̅̽̍͗̈̚͠͝ě̷̬͓͌̈́̈́́̒̌̅̾͒̀̋̈͋͌̂̆͠s̷̛͙͙̫̗͍͉̈́̋̈́͒̃͂̀̄̀̊̎̓͒̿̎̇!̸̡̨̧̛̻̦̬̞̰̩̗͕̱̱̪͇̣̳͚̫͎̼͙̟̑̽̾͊̂̓̈̽͒͌͌͗̍̀̀̇̐̽̅̐”

The Crawling Chaos rasped, only to stagger when an explosion ripped apart the cage.

Ainz invoked spells that mimicked the most terrific inventions of mankind. Spells that mimicked Subatomic bombs exploded all around the Overlord, shredding and disintegrating the mist. It destroyed everything on a subatomic level, dissolving connections between atoms.

The mist instantly regenerated and reclaimed its territory, converging around the Overlord.

However, Ainz wasn’t finished yet. He didn’t lose momentum, he cast a spell that was even more powerful, yet still weaker than Supernovas. “{Antimatter Explosion}!” The Outer God staggered, as matter ceased to exist within a large sphere around Ainz Ooal Gown.

“You keep your hands off them!” Ainz shouted, all but ordered as void expanded.

Up above, evil cackling filled the dizzying vacuum, Shub-Niggurath was having the day of her life.

Ainz bit back his frustration, it was close… so close sending a barrage flying towards the Black Goat, but he couldn’t have her join the fight. For now, it seemed that Yog-Sothoth kept her from interfering, but that could change at the slightest hint of aggravation.

Nyarlathotep recovered in the blink of an eye and sent out a billowing grey haze that gave off an ominous feeling. Ainz listened to his intuition and kept clear of the decaying fog. He disappeared, and reappeared somewhere else, the gloomy haze following everywhere.

He called out; “{Shark Apocalypse}“, an improved version of {Shark Tornado}. The spell unleashed dozens of massive swirling tornados that continued upwards into a dizzying vacuum, while Megalodons swam ferociously within its tight confines.

Ancient, prehistoric sharks that always stood at the apex of the food chain, they had no rivals, and they did not evolve. They were perfect hunters; they didn’t need to evolve. Nevertheless, these fishes were not mere sea creatures. Corrupted and changed by the eldritch and cosmic energies of the spell, they were much, much more. True leviathans that consumed all.

The crawling chaos, the mist receded and Ainz had a breathing room. He used it well and conjured up a gargantuan portal. One that linked directly inside his inventory where innumerable summons of varying power was stacked, waiting only for the day when their master has need of their service. Now, that day has come, and countless summons poured out of the black gates.

There were Angels, Demons, Undead, Dragons, Fairies, and all the creatures of Yggdrasil. Seraphim, Demon Lords, Overlords, Reanimated Dragon Lords, Fairy Kings, and many more poured out endlessly from within the black portals of Ainz Ooal Gown.

“There is strength in numbers.” Ainz said and invoked; “{Knight’s Vow}.” A tremble took hold of the soldiers, each creature was in a frenzy, their eyes burned in unnatural lights. The spell invoked was a useful one, and a much-coveted treasure which at last would find its use. A buff that would increase the strength of the summons in correlation with the power of the master, and with Ainz it meant an astronomical boost. Now, even the weakest of summons under his command were beyond level 100. Many on pair with Raid Bosses, some on par with World Enemies. They were an unstoppable force.

“Ẇ̷̱͖͚̮͕̰̰̖̓̿̓͌̏͒͐̓̽͜͠ȩ̶̡̧̨̥̦͉͙̖͇̹̤̟̯̪͍́̎̒͊̑̃̉̊̌̉̑͌̈́́̃̊̚̕͜͝ả̶̧͙͔̩͇̒͋̅̈́̂͂͑͗̿̍̋̚͠k̵̡̡̺̳͚̞̗͔̦̞͓͇̯̱̗̤͙̔̊̈́̀̑̉̿̓́̄̈́̕.̷̢̛̥̱͎̟̘͔̘͓͚̺͇͖͓͈̤̩̳͈̹̲͇̣͑̎̀̅̈́̇̒̋̂̽̈͗̉͂͊̓͑̅̐̕͠͝ ̵̧̧̧̰͈͙̟̲̜̜̦̟͐̆̄̅F̵̧̧̥̼̮̹̣̘̻̞̼̙͕̫̰̫̻̻̮̫̩̈́̆̒̍̿͘ạ̸̢̡̧̧̖̰͖̯̙͙̦̗̯̬̲̮̰̼̙̠̈̈́̒͛̎̀̌̍̓ͅř̸̛̠̟̬̻̭̞͈̮̥̑̉̉͂̉̓͌̐͆́͗̾̀͘͘͠͝͝ ̶̡̧̪̙̝̭̪͈̬̪͉͕̘̰̘̝̩̃̇ͅt̵̨̛̳̘̣̗͖̳̥̗̺̙̝̖͗͐̀̏̀̈́̄̃̿͗̈͘͜͜ͅõ̶̧̥̾̄͌̿͐̎̀̃o̵̢̧̧̫̺̹̙̰̲̩̰̝̺͈͔̲̝̻͒͒͐̕ ̵̡̛̼̰̻͔͂̆̀̎́͌̒͒̈́͛̈́́͠ẁ̶̧̢̗̻̺̝̘͈̯̩͔̝̳͍̺̭̼̗͕̬̮̞̬͖͌͂͊̒̆̚͠e̴̢̧̢̨̡̛͇̬̱̭̥̘͉͈̭̪̱̼̫̫̥͉̹̐̋̏͋͗̇̀́͐͂̿̊̀̈̇̌̏͗̆͝a̴̞͎̘̼̱̮̅̽͒̍̒̓̊̐͘͝͝ķ̷̗̟̳͔̇̾͂̎͂̒͂̈́͊!̸̹̦͈̹͖͎͔̗̟͚̤̠̟͚͙̈͑̉̐̐̋ͅ”

Nyarlathotep spat, the mist converging around his grotesque dead black form.

“Let’s put it to the test, shall we?!” Ainz taunted, while he gave a mental command. Countless souls moved as one, and they all rushed forward, intent on fulfilling the master’s will, intent on slaying the enemy. Like an avalanche rolling down a steep mountain side, they rushed forth.

The mist writhed, it condensed, and then… burst outwards.

And where Nyarlathotep went, rest vanished, for the small hours were rent with the screams of nightmare. Hundreds, Thousands, Millions vanished within the chaos, and were dissolved amidst terrible agony, yet the rows kept pushing, the soldiers did not falter. They rushed head on into the mist, into oblivion.

Behind the lines, Ainz watched passively, his orbs beholding the nightmare that spread among his troops. It would not be long, and his endless army would be decimated. For even as tens of thousands joined the battle, and kept pouring out of his portals, hundreds of thousands were consumed. Ainz hurled a few AoE spells at the spreading chaos, but it was wholly ineffective.

Finally, from the gargantuan portals a towering creature stepped out. A monster of vaguely anthropoid outline, but with an octopus-like head whose face was a mass of feelers, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore feet, and long, narrow wings behind. It is said to be so terrible to behold that it destroys the sanity of those who gaze upon it.

The Sleeper of R’lyeh, the High Priest of the Great Old Ones was here, under service to Ainz Ooal Gown. Ainz instructed the behemoth to join the fray, and to do everything in its power to destroy his enemy, however the Crawling Chaos proved to be more than a match.

Cthulhu struggled in vain, as the mist overtook her form, the same as any other summon he sent out.

Far above the ongoing struggle, Yog-Sothoth pondered, reality itself warping and distorting continuously around the Beyond One. He felt something he couldn’t quite grasp. But it was there, for a moment, a faint feeling, something that was bound to get interesting. The glowing amorphous orbs bubbled ceaselessly, as the visage shifted and revealed a gaping maw stacked with crude teeth.

Down below Ainz cast several buffs on the struggling forces, but nothing seemed to work. No matter the enhancements, no matter the enforcements, the summons instantly perished the second they came in contact with that abnormal mist. The Crawling Chaos lived up to its name, it could not be beaten with mere numbers. Ainz held out a hand and concentrated. A risky spell, but one he desperately needed to work. A stronger, more pronounced version of {Energy Drain}.

He pointed his staff at the gradually disappearing Cthulhu, who sank into the crawling mist.

“{Sacrifice}!” He invoked, and the form of Cthulhu burst into motes of light, which was promptly swallowed up by the Overlord. Ainz could feel his reserves replenish, and his overall power grow.

{Sacrifice} was a spell he thought a lot about when he was suspended in the void. It was a spell that had a low success rate; however, it could instantly steal all the experience points of the target, along with racial and job levels. Technically cosmic energies and eldritch energies were also absorbed, however for many of the abilities Ainz needed an innate understanding of their powers before he could efficiently use them. It was a spell without drawbacks.

It was all good and dandy, however for the spell to work it needed its target to not resist its effects. And for that reason, it was great to use on summons, and those under his command. Cthulhu could resist the spell no doubt, however with her under his command there was no way she would have the willpower necessary to resist such a spell, even less so while being on the verge of death.

Ainz checked the watch on his skeletal hand. Time was running out. The seals he released on himself at the start of the battle gave an enormous boost to his power, however once the time is up, he will be severely weakened—it would be a death sentence in this situation.

He positioned himself above the spreading miasma that consumed all, and runes began to flash brilliantly as they sped around the Overlord. There was no other way. He would have to move up his timetable. It was now or never. He focused, and concentrated. The maddening noises were drowned out as Ainz entered his inner space. A world of his own.

Yog-Sothoth felt the chill once more, and amorphous glowing orbs, endlessly swimming around in the terrible visage, shivered in utmost glee. Meanwhile his hand clenched around Shub-Niggurath. She would not spoil his fun. Not now! Eyes opened all around the unlighted chamber beyond time, Yog-Sothoth focusing all his perception on this moment.

The Crawling Mist also felt something amiss, and his rampage became more ferocious. It rushed forward, lunging straight for the Overlord hovering above the madness that went on down below.

Ainz felt a tingling sensation. And the ancient bones quivered. Cracks spread, and greenish blight poured out. The Black Halo expanded and sped up, orbiting above the elongated skull. The sparks of yellowish green blazed alive, and the gown dissolved on contact with the sizzling undead.

Shadows screamed and rose around the Lord of Death, and the fabric of confusion tore around Ainz Ooal Gown. The golden staff gleamed in the blazing inferno as heat skyrocketed in the area.

The black orb brightened and regained its original crimson luster. The {Red Orb of Momonga} sizzled and rumbled, holding back a tide that would clear away all.

The Overlord made long and slow motions in ambivalence, and the blazing green was hungrily sucked inside the orb. The {Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown} shrieked and its luster dimmed. The unlighted chamber beyond time became silent, as everything came to a halt. The mist writhed down below, viewing the undead in a new, horrific light. As if possessed the Overlord invoked. “{Hollow Red}.”

Emptiness. Void. Oblivion.

Nothingness claims all.

The void clashed with chaos, and a sizeable chunk of the crawling mist was blown away, devoured by nothingness. But chaos and void could not extinguish each other, for they were the two sides of the same coin. Neither could exist without the other.

Mad cackling filled the air, as Yog-Sothoth laughed in sheer, unadulterated glee. Next to the Beyond One, Shub-Niggurath was having a far less joyous moment, something resembling an expression of discomfort was discernible on the white swirling visage as the black maw quivered.

Down below the mist had become thin, and a dead black form staggered at its center.

Nyarlathotep felt something indescribable—pain. For the first time in existence, he experienced the notion of pain. He could not place the feeling welling up within as he lunged for the Overlord.

The Void was pushed back, condensed around the mighty undead as the Crawling Chaos shed every limitation imposed by his own pride. The Crawling Mist blotted out the unlighted chamber beyond time and surrounded the Overlord.

“Ĩ̸̡͓̮̺͓̣͊̅͌ ̵̛̰̣̰͚̯̱̲̦̰͓̦̤̳̰͗̇̐̍̔̀̇̅̀͊̅͗̃̀͗̋͊͂̈́̕͝͠͠a̴̧̛̛͇̪̤̙͇̠͓̺̯̭̅̈́̋͑̄̍͛̍̀̄̓̍̐̆͂͗̐̒̇̏̊͘͝͠͝m̵̨̛͇̪̗͉̜͓̹̳͙̫͉͖̹̹̻͙͇̦̭̀͐͊̀͊̊̈́̅̽͒̈́̽̈́͆͊̆̎́̕͝ ̵̯̝̰̇̊̈͛͊͗̑̄̈́̍̓̂͊͌͌ḯ̵̢̧̡̫͍͇̼̪̪̟̞͉̭̠͆̿̎́̇̏̉̒̿͛̄̿̓̃́͗͜͝͝n̶̨̮̖̼͖͎̘̥̯̫̼̜̑̽̅̓̑̄͌̈́̊̃͂̈́̂̂͑̈̋͐̎͋͌̚̕͠f̵̧̜̬̱͈̀̀̊̀́͌̽͌̇̊͋̅̆͗͘͘͠ĭ̶̧̛̱̌̀̌̄̏̋̏͌̅̾̒̋̓̆̉̈́̂͗͝n̶̨̡̨̧̨̨̼͓̞̯̯͓͖̘̯̠̭͚͎͕̍̃̄̇̓̅̓́̍̅̆́̕̕̕͜͝ͅi̸̖̟̻͈͕͔̼̭̿̆̔͂͒͊̅͝͠͝ṱ̶̛̞̞͙̬̱̪͍̺̫̱͊̋̎͛̏̓̈́̌́̕͜e̵̡̢̢̛͚̯̩̟̮̹̤̭̺̫̙̠̣͎̦̜̻͔̭̦̯̻͇̼̎͛̓͒͛͒͗̄͐̈́͒͗͠!̶̛̭̮̦͙̞̲̯̪̯̹̦̼͇̞̱̐̉̔͂́̽̒̇̏̓͌͒̚͘̕ ̴͚̲̯͚͓̘͉̞͎͇̭̠̘̯̱̮̯̲̲̫̣̗̞̈̈́͋̋̈́̈́͆̈́̉̚̚͜͜͝͠I̵̧̛̛̺̞̱͔̖͔̪̩̮̳͖̼̬͔̽́̓̈́́̀́̀́̇̂̎̀͌͐̅̈́̓̄͘̚̚̕̕͜͝ ̷̢̢̛͚̹̥͙̪̥̗̥̖͕̝̼̹̥̰͍̱̹͓̜̺̹̞̥͈̅͗͊͒̿̐͌̏̕͜d̵̢̛͇͙͔͈̪̣͎̼͇͉̻̱͈̟̻̠͓̅͑̓̈́̆͛̑͐̍͋͆̿̀͒̚o̴͇͍̦̙̱̝̜̰̖̮̫̭͔̱̼̪͖͍͍̰͊͂͛̇̓͆̒́̏̐͂̄͋͐͌̊̎̕͝͝ ̸̢̡̛̤̦̩̯̺̺̳̟̬͊̽̽͆̓̋̃̽̿͊͘̚͝͠ņ̷̡̫̱͎̰̯̬͚͖̤̮̥͉͈̫̬̣̞͉͑͋̈̐̈́̈́̑͊͑̂͊̂͐̈͋͋́̀́̋̈́̔͒̕͜͜͝ô̶̠̱̰̹͓̟̹̻̣̫̫̻̤̫̲͕̞̞͇͇̰̫͕̓̊̓̆̏̄͆̅̑̒͊͐̅̈̾͘͝ţ̶̢̛̰̰̤͉̝̘͓̃̋̓̍͂̾̃͌͊̿̀̓̾̚͜͝ͅͅ ̷̢̻̠̩̥̫̼̠͓̝͍̮̘̬͌̒̏́͋͌̉̀͊͐̄̈́̈́̂͌͘͜͠ͅd̸̪̪͎͇͒̔̓͌͑́͊̓͝͝͠ĭ̵̫͇̰̯̗̼̟̲͙̹̯͕͂̾̇͂̊͂̍͠͝ͅȩ̴̦͎͚̮̩͙̙̭̭͓̺̙͚̫̖̬̟̇̒!̴̛̩͋́́͑̎̌̌́̈́̄͐̉͗̿̈͑̀͛̊̒̀̕̕̕͘͝͝”̵̢̛̛̛̛̳͉̠̝̹̱̘̠̲͇͔̦̱̪͖̥̞͑̏̂̓̉̄̀̓̈́̽͐̊̾̋̀͛͑̋͘͜͝͠ ̷̛͙͆̆͂͛̓̀̒͗͛̈́̂̔͒̎͗̃̀͐̾̕͝”

Nyarlathotep shrieked in a myriad disfigured voices merging all around the mist, stifling the far too thin barrier of nothingness.

The flames were dying. Faint sparks were all that had remained.

A haze fell over the orbs of Ainz Ooal Gown.

The battering on the invisible walls were never-ending, as Ainz drifted within a bubble of nothingness through the all-encompassing chaos. The chaos swirled, it writhed and assaulted.

The noises no longer registered; sound has become faint.

His vision blurred, blackened around the edges.

Was this the end?

Is this how Ainz Ooal Gown had finally met his match?

The Red Orb cracked. The void barrier receded, almost grazing the skeletal frame beneath.

Was it always so peaceful?

The barrier cracked, a long tentacle slamming into his rib cage, Ainz let out a silent yelp.

He began to fall.

A free fall within the unlighted chamber beyond time.

There was no indication of up or down, nor ahead, or behind.

The sole reference point was the head of the massive gargoyles—the ultimate tenebrous gods.

He watched as the crawling mist engulfed all, and his light faded. He could feel his soul lose its brilliance, and his will to go on ebbed away. Then, he realized something.

He could not fall forever, he had to rise.

He remembered what life was once like, he recalled what he was fighting for. He recalled who he was. The salary man who became something much, much more. Someone who had something to protect, someone who had someone to love. Someone who could not bear losing them ever again.

A single skeletal finger pointed upwards while the Overlord plummeted through this strange realm. The crawling chaos at a tight chase, lunging for the battered skeleton from all directions.

Light ignited and burned brilliantly at the fingertip, and countless runes of all shapes and sizes span around the outstretched arm. The runes burned brightly for a moment before sizzling out one by one. Overexerting the power each may hold. The flames died, yet the light lived.

A ray of light cut through the oppressing clouds, and the mist was blown away.

The tip of the light impacted a grotesque head, one of the ultimate gods.

The colossal gargoyle staggered, and the flute escaped its grasp. The ultimate god lurched sideways, colliding with another gargoyle, who in-turn dropped its baneful instrument. The orchestra ceased.

“Ẁ̷̤̬̥͍͓̭͉̖͙̒̐͛̔̓̈́̎͛̅̉̒̍̓͐̔̓͗́̀͒̾̎͋̾͂̂̒̈́̇̋͒͆̉̐̾͐̀̏̚ḩ̶̢̛̛͙̦͍̖̪͈̟̪̦̘̭̖͚̟̫͈̙̘̹͎͕͉͇͇̥̼̘́̉͒̄̀̉͐̊̈́̃͗̀̈́̏́̆͂͆̔̎͆̃̃̐̃̀͌̆́̐̈́̓͐̍͗̌̄͘͝ą̸̧̺̗̠͓͔͈͙̩̫̻̯̪̱̮̩̠̠̲̥̘̹̱̗̮̱̣͍͂̆͂̓̔͛͒̊̈́͑͊̊̐̈́̍̐͂͐͋̍͗̿́͆̐̊͂̐̅̇̆́͑̐̇̌̚͜͜͜t̷̘̰̜̮̻̪͉̦̠̘̦̼͇̱̝͉̩͋̾̊̒͆̿̒͗̆͊̑̔̒̐̑͋̾̃͋̃̆̎̀̆̋̈͊̊͛̓́͛͆͑̚͘̚͘̕ͅͅ ̸̢̫͑̃̓h̷̡̲̣̗͈̮͓͍̮̬͙̖̹̳͉͓͔̎̇̆a̸̢̨͚͉̝̼̝͇̟̬͔͖̲̲̺̘͓͖͓̖̰̯͔̻̥͔̮̫̖̩̗̙͈̭͈̣̥̪̩̟̳̠͎̜͔͋͐͐̌̀v̸̢̨̛̛̖̖̲̼̝̹̠̳͙̩͔̲̣̤̺͋̂̈́̂͌̒̀́̅͐̏̿͗̈́͌͗̿̒̇͑̈͋̈́̐͐͂̆̋̈́̃͒͛͒̋̂̓̚̕̚͘̚͝͝͠͠ͅe̵̢̳̲̬̞̮̰̭̫͙͇͙̺̱̗̯̭͕̙̮̝͍̞̰̳̲̫̦̠̜̺̤̝̫̫̺̋̒̕͜͜ͅ ̵̨͔̮̖͙̥͎̬͕͚̞̭͉̞͓͕̲̣͎̺͚̠͍͕͕̯̟͓̗̮̯͊̑̇̒͆̈͌̓́́̊͘͜ͅͅỷ̶̨̧̪͚̥̹̼̝̥͙͖̬̳̟̰͕̜̬͉̜̺̳͚̭̫̩̹̙̤̼̝̹̤̰͕̤̙͔̣͓͜͜ǫ̸̨̢̛͙͕̫͉͎̦͚̼̞̣̜̩̼̎̐́̏̓̇́̍̂̏̓̂̑͂̋̋͆͗͛̒̈́̂̓̽͗͊̌̽̌͂̈̿͑̐͗͂͑̚͜͝͝ų̷̢̪͈͓͓̑̌̄̆̀̅͌͊͛̂̈͌͆̈̓͆́̅̄̊̔̔̈́̈́̏̋̈́͆͐͛̓̒͘̚̕͘͝ ̷̡̛̜͕͓͇͍͙̬̯̠͓̝̞̬͈̀̈́͆̏͂̉͛́̒͛͌͘ͅḑ̶̩̦̻̤͖̯͖̲͓̗̖͙̞̠͖̬͇̦̬̜̤͚̻̭̳̻̳͈̱̳̞̞̳̞̠̫̬̳̾̏́́͒̎̓̆̉̋͑́͒̽̈́̓̈́̊͐̈͗͊̕̕͘͘͝ͅő̵̧̨̧̡̙͕̞͇̼̹͔͉̗̪̬̻̹͍̱͇̙͈͕̮͙͉̝̬̱̲̞̙̥͎͓͖̫̰̰̖̱͚͍͔͕̈́̆͆̒̎̚̚͠ͅn̷̡̨̢̢͎̞̩̞̗͙̝͚̲̥̻̘̠̪̈́͋̎̓̇̓̔̽̈́̍̆̏̂͑̏̽͑̃̊̒̈́͠͝͝͝ͅe̵̛̛̮̭̩̦͓͓͛̂͗̇̈́̐̈́̏̂̔̋̂̿͊̌̅̂̄̉̈́̈͑̓̽̋̆͒̾̋̆̂̀́̇̅͛͘̕͝͝?̴̨̧̧̡̨̡̨̨̨̛̛̛͔̹̯̯̤̱̭̞͍̤̞̰̬͇̬̗̘̹͇̰̮͉̟͇̳͉̙͈̬̰̤̟̗̫̣̬̪̰̽̈́̊́̅̔̓̾̒̓̽͐̃̑͐͛͆̃͋̂̓̀̋̑̉͐͘̚̕̚̚͜͝!̸̢̨̛̻͎̹̤̫̟̹̪͇̭͔̥̜̳̺̈́̏̓͆̓͋̔̀̎͋̅́͝͝ ̴̨̧̢̢̰̫̲̠͓̻̩͍̣̠͚̮̝͔͖͎̪̫̞̫̠̫̙̟̺̞̱͎̖͑͛̈̿͌͗̉̀̈́̄͊̄͑͋̓̓͂̓̐̓̈͐̄̎̃͆̒͂̈́̈͆̊́̉̂͛̇̐̓͐̾̆̀͑̚͘̕͜͝͝ͅ”

The mist cried, its voice losing all semblance to speech. And its clouds quivered, stilling in place. A fear forgotten permeated and circulated within the clouds of madness. The tendrils of darkness quivered, trembled uncontrollably as Nyarlathotep froze in place.

Yog-Sothoth laughed hysterically in the background, as Shub-Niggurath cowered behind his back.

The Crawling Chaos rocketed into action, and with its many clouds rushed backwards, and for the strayed ultimate gods, but it was too late. An unnatural chill stopped the Crawling Chaos in place, and Ainz could feel his soul involuntarily shudder, and squirm under the gaze of The Inconceivable.

The amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the center of all infinity—the boundless daemon sultan Azathoth has awakened.