The Outer God's Plans

The void beyond creation trembled.

For the first time in an eternity, silence filled the Outer Realm. The endless expanse of swirling darkness, where laws of reality held no power, now stood eerily still. The towering, incomprehensible forms of the Outer Gods loomed over the broken remnants of the war they had just witnessed.

Their forces? Decimated.

Their generals? Erased.

All by one being.

Lucifer.

Bloody Morningstar.

The name echoed in the emptiness, unspoken but undeniable.

"This cannot continue."

The voice rumbled through the void, shaking the very fabric of existence. It belonged to Zathrith, the Bound Leviathan, an entity whose form was a mass of writhing tendrils, each one large enough to devour galaxies whole. His glowing maws shifted restlessly, his rage barely contained.

"How many times have we tried? How many forces have we sent? How many plans have we crafted, only for one man to stand against us?"