A small, harmless tale

This came to mind as I began working out a sketch for another possible painting today. I like working out stories to go with these paintings - I need to do more of them. (Besides, I have to offset the dense estrogen infusion of the last two entries!)
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He stood in the vastness of space. It took a bit of getting used to. The type of space he had wandered through the eons was populated by dying stars and food for Those he served. This space was different. Quasars pulsed, carrying information across the cosmos. Small suns collided into each other and coalesced into galaxies of ones and zeros. Most of the information was useless - food looking to procreate. Food looking for ways to prepare their own food. Food looking to reach out and enliven their pitiful little lives.

If that's what they wanted, then who was he to deny them? His tentacles adapted themselves easily to this new kind of space, reaching out and finding the information he needed and re-weaving it into something else. When he finished, he had a large portal that would be impossible for the food to miss, let alone resist. Little did they know every time they used the portal, it would bring Those he served a little closer to the physical realm.

As he looked at his work, he decided this space was infinitely more interesting than the ones he was used to walking. Nyarlathotep smiled and said, "Yes, food. Come forth and google."



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