The new rules are dictated

Amitiel Citadel, Neptune Orbit

In the vast, icy command room of the Netlin Mothership, or perhaps at the heart of its Neptunian citadel carved from methane ice and dark crystal, Supreme Commander Amitiel watched the confluence of cosmic energies. The warping, titanic presence of Cthulhu had fully manifested, not as an image on a screen, but as a gaping wound in reality, a vortex of geometric madness and shadowy tendrils swirling in the center of the chamber, its proximity a constant test of loyalty and fortitude for the Netlin Luciferians present.

Amitiel was visibly pleased, almost exultant in his cool, restrained Netlin manner. An imperceptible curve of triumph played across his perfect lips as the energy of his Primal "brother" filled the space. For him, this was the culmination of eons of planning, the dawn of his Perfect Order.

However, many lesser Netlin, beings of purer light or of a lower hierarchy within the complex structure of the Fallen, could not bear the direct and overwhelming presence of Cthulhu. Their ethereal forms flickered with anguish, the light that composed them dimming and fluctuating, some even seeming to shrink or recoil instinctively from the psychic pressure and existential dissonance emanating from the Great Old One.

Among the Luciferian high command surrounding Amitiel's throne was Razus. He appeared younger than most of Amitiel's lieutenants, his light a sharper silver and less dull than the dark sapphire glow of the veterans. His eyes, though sharing the Netlin coldness, contained a spark of inquisitive intelligence that often put him at silent odds with the Supreme Commander's orthodoxy. Amitiel's every move, every edict, was weighed and analyzed by Razus with an intensity bordering on insubordination, though always veiled by impeccable external discipline. Despite his relative youth for a Netlin, his strategic intellect and understanding of dimensional energies had granted him a high command, albeit a closely guarded one.

Is this... formless abomination... the pinnacle of Truth that our Order must enforce? Razus thought, a dissonance growing in his very being. Has our Supreme Commander's devotion, his quest for Perfection, truly culminated in... this?

Cthulhu "spoke," his guttural voice a wave of alien thoughts that translated through the Netlin minds like seismic thunder, each "word" a vibration that made the very structure of the ship groan.

<> Cthulhu projected, his many roving eyes focusing on Amitiel with a gaze that was like being watched by a thousand cold, dead galaxies. <>

Amitiel nodded, an expression of deep, serene acquiescence on his inhumanly beautiful face. "That is so, Great Dreamer. The ancient stewards have failed."

<> Cthulhu continued, referring to the Thirteen Families, <> A wave of cosmic contempt emanated from the Great Old One.

"As you have always taught, Elder of the Void," Amitiel responded with a respect bordering on adoration, "if you want something done right, do it yourself, or entrust it to those who understand the true scale of the Grand Design and do not fear its application." A sinister smile, an icy reflection of Cthulhu's, touched his lips.

"You will then transmit," Cthulhu commanded, "to those who still retain some influence over the human mass of Terra, the New Guidelines for the Age of True Enlightenment and the Peaceful Order that is about to dawn:"

And then, the voice/mind of Cthulhu detailed the new and terrible plan for humanity:

"First: New crystalline-biological nexuses will be universally implanted in every human unit. 'Chips,' in their crude terminology. These will record every thought, every emotion, every action, ensuring their... well-being and their perfect conformity to the Grand Plan. Dissonant individuality will be... recalibrated.>> <> <

Liberation. Liberation from the agonizing burden of individual choice, liberation from the torment of existential doubt, liberation from the false and chaotic illusion of 'free will'. All will find solace and purpose in ecstatic submission to the Great Cosmic Will that now guides them.>> <> <>

Amitiel listened, his face a mask of cold ecstasy. "An impeccable plan, Great Old One. A perfect and merciful Order for such an imperfect and suffering species. It will be executed without the slightest delay."

Razus, the young Netlin commander, felt his inner light shrink. Universal peace of mind... or the silent annihilation of the soul? This is not Order... this is the Death of the Will, the Great Silence of the Void disguised as Utopia. A deeper terror than that inspired by Cthulhu began to take root in him: the terror of the perfected vision of his own Supreme Commander.

Cthulhu emitted a pulse of satisfaction that shook the very structure of the citadel ship. Amitiel began issuing orders to his Luciferian heralds, preparing to transmit these "New Rules" to the remnants of the Thirteen Families on Earth. The fate of humanity, as they knew it, had just been sealed in the cold depths of space.