The Kraken was not navigating; it was being surrendered. The powerful internal thrusters whined uselessly against the inexorable pull of the Black Attractor. Within seconds, the submersible was drawn through the colossal archway—an entrance so huge it seemed built for leviathans, not man.
As they passed the threshold, the world changed again.
"Pressure readings... zero," Cameron choked out, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Oxygen levels stable, but the sub's integrity alarms are spiking. It's like the exterior reality is arguing with the hull material."
"It's the geometry," Vivian murmured, pointing at the viewport. "Look at the water—it's still, but it folds. The light isn't just bending; it's being trapped."
Inside the city, the Unspeakable Colors were more intense. They were not mere reflections; they emanated from the very fabric of the structures, casting shadows that ran towards the light sources. The streets, vast and silent, were made of that dark, glossy obsidian, etched with patterns that seemed to shift and writhe when viewed peripherally.
Roland felt a growing pressure behind his eyes, a purely psychic pain. He recognized the architecture now—it wasn't just ancient; it was alien. "This is the core of the Deep Ones Civilization," he breathed, his voice reverent despite the dread. "A city built to sustain the worship of something fundamentally non-human."
He saw obelisks taller than any skyscraper, spiraling into the gloom. He saw altars carved with figures of winged, tentacled creatures, greeted by legions of stooped, fish-headed priests. The entire place was a monument to terrible, absolute subjugation.
2. The Temptation of Knowledge
Roland spotted his target: a central plaza dominated by a low, stepped pyramid—the obvious focal point of the settlement. Beneath the pyramid was a huge, slab-like structure, its surface covered entirely in ancient hieroglyphs.
"Cameron, get us down there. Minimum speed," Roland commanded. "I need to get a clear visual on that slab. That is where the history is recorded."
"Roland, every fiber of my being says we should be ascending, not drilling deeper," Cameron argued, his face grim.
"We risk our lives for the boundary of knowledge, Cameron. We are here," Roland retorted, his voice brooking no argument. "Vivian, monitor my vitals. I'm going outside."
Despite Vivian's tearful protests—"You saw the remains outside the gate! That civilization died here!"—Roland moved to the airlock. The pull of this unique, horrifying knowledge was irresistible.
Soon, he stood on the cold, alien pavement of the Deep Ones' dead city.
3. The Whisper and the Sacrifice
Roland directed The Kraken's light beam onto the inscribed slab. The light revealed glyphs unlike anything he had ever cataloged: symbols that looked like twisted mathematics, non-Euclidean angles made tangible, and sequences that narrated a genesis older than Earth itself.
As his gloved hand reached out to trace the cold obsidian, the psychic impact was instantaneous and overwhelming.
The sound that followed bypassed his suit's audio systems and exploded directly in his mind—not noise, but an infusion of alien concepts:
The cold eternity of space... The endless cycle of death and rebirth... And a single, colossal name: \text{CTHULHU}.
Roland saw the vision: Not just the Deep Ones' worship, but their final, collective moment of absolute terror. He saw the city built as a prison, and their "god" as the jailer. He saw their final, desperate ritual to keep the vast, sleeping entity from fully awakening and consuming their reality. They weren't just a civilization; they were the doomed, self-appointed keepers of the slumbering terror.
He realized, with bone-chilling clarity, that the Deep Ones had failed.
He snatched his hand back. On the slab, beneath the ancient carvings, was fresh evidence: a pool of viscous, dark fluid—a remnant of the Deep Ones' final, failed sacrifice.
And then, a new signal hit the sub's hull. It was not a thrumming. It was a rhythmic, slow, deep pulse, vibrating the metal with immense, impossible force.
"Roland! Get back!" Vivian screamed over the comms, her voice raw with terror. "The city... it's breathing! And Cameron... he's talking!"
In the control room, the sedative-calm pilot had snapped to full, terrifying awareness. His eyes were wide and fixed on the ceiling, and a grotesque smile split his face as he began to chant in a language no human should ever know.
"\text{Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn}!"
The city was waking up. And the first thing it consumed was Cameron's Last Sanity.