My WishesAnd the Old Ones hold foul and formless Azathoth for Their Master and Abide with Him in the black cavern at the centre of all infinity, where he gnaws ravenously in ultimate chaos amid the mad beating of hidden drums, the tuneless piping of hideous flutes and the ceaseless bellowing of blind idiot gods that shamble and gesture aimlessly for ever.
And They created Nyarlathotep for Their messenger, and They clothed Him with Chaos that His form might be ever hidden amidst the stars. Who shall know the mystery of Nyarlathotep? For He is the mask and will of Those that were when time was not. He is the priest of the Ether, the Dweller in Air and hath many faces that none shall recall. The waves freeze before Him; Gods dread His call. In men's dreams He whispers, yet who knoweth His form?
The soul of Azathoth dwelleth in Yog Sothoth and He shall beckon unto the Old Ones when the stars mark the time of Their coming; for Yog Sothoth is the Gate through which Those of the Void will re-enter. Yog Sothoth knowest the mazes of time, for all time is one unto Him. He knowest where the Old Ones came forth in time along long past and where They shall come forth again when the cycle returneth.
Loathsome Cthulhu rose then from the deeps and raged with exceeding great fury against the Earth Guardians. And They bound his venomous claws with potent spells and sealed him up within the City of R'lyeh wherein beneath the waves he shall sleep death's dream until the end of the Aeon.