text: Chn'magoth's blessings are as numerous as they are obscene. He teaches you every spell the fools at the University have to offer. You abandon your education, finding it severely lacking compared to the bounty of knowledge you have conjured from the infernal places. Silena matches your enthusiasm. She is a sorceress as skilled in the blasphemous arts as you; you spend hours hurling firebolts at each other, summoning horrors, and learning the secret languages that afford you power over other men.
  
  You take a dozen scholars from the University, and they recruit a dozen more. Soon, you are a body unto yourselves; two hundred souls or so, referring to themselves as the Ones who Understand. You teach your acolytes some of the miraculous truths, but not too many; your primacy must not be challenged.
  
  By happenstance, you recruit a high-level nobleman into your organization, one Viscount Chevernier. He hosts you and your acolytes at his estate. The secrecy afforded by the high walls is good for ones who study the hidden facets of reality..
  
  You stand at centre stage in a grand theatre. Chevernier was once a great sponsor of the arts, but you now use it as a lecture hall, where you disseminate what Chn'magoth tells you. Your breast swells with pride as you see your students in attendance; they stare at you with rapt attention underneath the theatre lights. Good. Let them admire your superior knowledge.
  
  The sacrifice writhes under his magical constraints. It's the same imbecile you slept with, in what feels like another night; luring him into an alley was trivially easy. Such was his profound ignorance that he barely even noticed when you put the rag over his mouth, before unceremoniously stuffing him into the back of a carriage.
  
  "With the right application of the Secret Words, you can defy even Death himself!" you say confidently. Your audience cheers as you draw an ornate broadsword with the practiced grace of a circus ringmaster. You behead him in one stroke. His severed head screams wordlessly as you trap his soul in the body, preventing his flight to the Underworld. Your students politely clap as you brandish it to the audience.
  
  You look into the head's eyes as it mouths a plea for mercy. You toss it on the floor for someone to clean up, before deciding to retire to your chambers.
  
  You retire to your chambers. Silena is there, lounging in a chair, leafing through your notes. Her hair has grown out a bit, and you have finally managed to talk her into wearing makeup and finer clothing. "It is simply not appropriate for an acolyte of Chn'magoth to look like a spinster," you repeatedly said.
  
  "Good demonstration?" she asks.
  
  "Yes," you say, a little suspiciously. You're not sure why she's in your room, but you feel reflexively irritated at her going through your notes.
  
  "Chn'magoth isn't happy," she says.
  
  "He's never happy. I gave him a whole arm the other day, what's wrong with him now?"
  
  "He wants to expand our operation," she says. Silena snaps her finger. A mummified corpse, animated with elder magic, shuffles into the room. It's still wearing the spectacles it wore in life. "Sarah, show us the meeting I had with Chn'magoth."
  
  Sarah opens her mouth and doubles over. She begins to retch.
  
  "Get a fucking tray!" you bark. Sarah grabs a discarded platter, and vomits blood into it. A second later, the blood begins to shift, granting you a view of a past event, ripped from Sarah's memories. The images are faintly distorted, like a moving oil painting.
  
  You see Chn'magoth's hideous form, standing opposite to Silena.
  
  "You must take control," the demon croons. "Kill the other one, and offer me his soul. Then, I shall teach you the final mysteries, and this plane can be ours."
  
  "I'll think of it," Memory-Silena says. The blood-memory ends.
  
  "That's a tempting offer," you say. "Why didn't you take it?"
  
  "You're not bad at what you do," she says with a smile. "Not great, but not bad."
  
  "Appreciate the compliment," you say.
  
  "Besides, I like having you around."
  
  You think about this, for a moment.
  
  > lead the Cult... Together
  You kiss Selina without thinking about it. Then, as a true romantic, you bend her over an armchair and make unsentimental love to her while a slack-jawed corpse stares listlessly into a pool of its own bloody vomit. After, you lay in each other's arms, you stare into each other's eyes, and talk about how the narrow-minded fools of the world will soon suffer under your combined vision and brilliance.
  
  The next morning, you both confront Chn'magoth. Its mortal form is decaying as its demonic essence erodes its fleshy prison from within. The air in his cell smells of plague. The offal of the many sacrifices required to keep him on this plane are strewn about the cell.
  
  "You have considered my offer," Chn'magoth says. The voice in your mind sounds faint, now, as he fades from the world.
  
  "I have," Selina says. "And I refuse."
  
  "Fool!" Chn'magoth hisses. It launches a stream of corrosive vomit at you, and it burns clean through the bars of his cell. You shove Selina back and effortlessly form a shimmering ward that disperses the bright-green spew. "You will regret this, flesh-things!"
  
  "Eat shit and die," you respond matter-of-factly. You tear his head from his shoulders, his arms from his torso, and his knees from his thighs. For a moment, the demon's composite parts float in the air, before you hurl them against the wall with such strength that they liquify.
  
  For a brief instinct, you can see his true form. It is fundamentally incompatible with this world, and the sight of it chills your soul. Its ten thousand eyes gaze at you with such baleful malevolence that for a moment, you feel as if your very essence will be ripped from your body and dragged into a realm of unfathomable violence. Fortunately for you, the sane world is incompatible with Chn'magoth's true form, and he quickly dissipates.
  
  Later, you summon your flock to the theatre. As you stand on stage, covered in blood, you begin to speak: "Chn'magoth was a false teacher. I have destroyed him, and taken his power."
  
  A stunned silence settles over the theatre. How can this be? You are not stricken down immediately, however, so it must be true. Silena begins to speak: "We know all things, of this world, and of all the other worlds too. We will lead you into an era of enlightenment, and grant you unimaginable power."
  
  "All you have to do is kneel," you say.
  
  One by one, they drop to their knees. Their hands are stretched up in rapturous awe. You can see the jealousy and fear in their eyes, but it doesn't matter; they should be jealous. These fools will be the first to kneel, but not the last.