Lullaby for Cthulhu

This very well suited Mirdal! The golden light sands of the Azure Islands are the same shade as his fur, and the clear waters around are as deep and blue as his eyes. But these needle-covered corpse factories, crazy mechanisms… Slowly flapping his wings, Mirdal flew above it all, admiring the strange architecture of the Azure Islands from a height. The chaosists were able to arrange them to their liking, but not at all like in our city. The Azure Islands remained a resort even after they became the center of technochaos development. If someone on three continents wanted real exotics, they flew here because the culture of the Free People's State was alien, equally alike to Hardolians living in a well-maintained nature, Nasharans fighting the dangers of the world, and Ardinians settled in the mainland city. As Mirdal had heard, such a quirk had arisen during the rule of demiurgis, when the chaoists who lived here invoked a strange man from Earth and so admired his fervent stories about the industry construction, technical progress and other incomprehensible subcontracts, that they immediately began to embody the memories of the poor man distorted by Chaos into life. There were a lot of people on these shores, and the most diverse. Unlike the rest of Haradol — with the exception of the equally exotic Holzer, perhaps — the local dragons preferred not to grow manes for beauty and neck protection, but to cut them into even hairstyles or gather them in bunches. Many also wore decorative clothes that were not particularly needed in the heat — white T-shirts with holes for wings, red scarves around the neck, dresses with pointed collars and wavy hemlines. The locals didn’t spare their bodies — here, an artist sits on the embankment and paints on the canvas of the customer with a prosthesis with a huge metal pen instead of a palm, and another sold ice cream with the taste of meat and fish from a wheeled freezer cart, which was dragged by the front half of the deal sewn to him. Harmonious, groovy music emanated from ugly instruments in the paws of street musicians — who played a keyboard player with a guitar neck attached to it, who blew on a harmonica that replaced lips and jaws. It is not a very surprising sight in a Chaotic State, although it may disgust some people. Your body parts are given to you so that you can use them, and not tear them off and replace them with prostheses. But Mirdal treated the alien culture calmly, especially since all the ugliness here was exclusively peaceful, serving only for entertainment. They could have used swords and ray guns. A strange tower overtopped the beach. A lighthouse that, even in the daytime, gradually increased its radiance and also gradually subsided. A gloomy old man was sitting on the top landing and looking at the beach through a telescope. “I wonder why he doesn't rejuvenate himself”, Mirdal decided that if such a venerable age — unless the old man's appearance was a mutation — hadn't turned his brains to mush, he might well have seen something strange. When you have a telescope and a lot of free time, an irrepressible curiosity wakes up. Wondering how best to start a conversation, Mirdal landed on the landing next to the creature. What race he belonged to, Mirdal never understood. Not a dragon, not an anthro, and not a human, just gray hair and dark rags. — Ah, I've been waiting for you for a long time, — such an addressing surprised Mirdal all the more, but he didn’t show it. — You’re without mutation, I have a trap for mutants here... tea, coffee, a meat bun? — Work, — Myrdal spread his wings. And he added for luck, "you know." — Heh ... — the lighthouse keeper shook his head, and began rummaging in a cardboard box by the tripod of the telescope, mixing babins, cassettes and small vinyl records. — Here, — continuing to marvel at himself and wonder at the chaos, Mirdal showed the hologram of Tatsuki, a dragoness student who disappeared in this place not long ago. - Had you seen her? — No, you don't have to look for her anymore! — The mutant waved his sleeve. — I'll show you something else, which ruined her. "She died", Myrdal tried to hide his sadness. It was often possible to save a life on Haradol, even when the soul remains without a body, therefore it was too early to mourn the student. “What caused her death?” Taking out a translucent disk with iridescent iridescence, the old man inserted it into a slot on the telescope, turned its large lens to the floor, and a small eyepiece to the sun. A color spot appeared on the dark boards, a moving picture of the beach — obviously at some point in the past. — Can you see the skull? — The caretaker pointed to a barely noticeable object in the sand. Pictured people passed by it, flew over and sailed by, not paying attention. Even when tentacles stretched out from it and moved the skull away from the sea. The dragon frowned. Navs began killing dragons again. — Thanks for the information, — said the golden-maned lighthouse keeper and flew to the sea. What could have caused the incident? Who is to blame? If the dragoness broke any rule by provoking the Navs herself, it's not much better. The caretaker already knows what happened. Soon, the news will spread among the chaosists, and who knows if a new war between navs and dragons will begin. It would be possible to call someone from friendly navs, but can they be trusted? Mirdal decided it was wiser to act alone. A single dragon won't attract much attention, and even in case Mirdal dies, the lighthouse caretaker will be able to warn the others about his death, and Mirdal's life is valued by the rulers more than the life of some plain dragoness and will make them react faster and more responsibly. The fluffy golden dragon came to the beach. So many swimmers — and, it seems, navs don't threaten anyone... or do they? Mirdal went into the water to swim. He stood there, getting used to the way the sea was licking his paws, lifting and lowering his tail on the water. But the golden one wasn’t thinking about a pleasant dive. He was focused on the creature crawling towards the shore. Vacationers paid no more attention to this octopus-like creature than they did to the garbage birds: they swam around, but didn’t try to drive it away and did not hunt it. Perhaps navs are fully recognized as equals here and are not afraid of them, since they don’t touch anyone.… But Mirdal couldn't understand why the skull that nav was carrying, like a battle armor, doesn’t cause any surprise! Rushing forward, the dragon swam towards the nav, while staying on the surface. Its tentacles didn’t react to the dragon, didn’t try to escape or change the direction of movement. So, it doesn't react not only to chaoists, but to all dragons in general? And if he swims closer? Having cast a protective spell, Mirdal paddled up to nav and questioned him sternly: — Where did you get this? Nav didn’t like his persistence, and he disappeared into the sea, taking Mirdal with him. The dragon was ready to attack—but not so fast. Tentacles instantly squeezed his body across his stomach, covering him with two green rings, others began to cling to his paws and wings, giving no chance to float up. Mirdal bared his teeth in response to such rude behavior and immediately tried to disincarnate into an energy form in order to compete on equal terms with the alien. But the tentacles not only held the body, they also kept it in its original form, overcoming the will. With an indignant snort, Mirdal tried to physically resist the tentacles — his claws dug into a large appendage rushing towards the muzzle, but slid along the tentacle without harm. It instantly tightened the jaws with a strong ring, pulling the dragon towards itself. Mirdal leaned forward, losing his orientation in space, and immediately several more tentacles wrapped around his ankles and thighs. There were many dragons floating on the surface and even at shallow depths, but none of them paid any attention to Mirdal, as well as nav. He was suffocating just a few strokes away from his relatives, unable to call for help, completely at the mercy of nav, who was now disposing of the former demiurge and the Light One as it wanted. Sliding over the dragon's body, he twirled the very tips of his tentacles over it, causing such a tickle that made the victim spin and gurgle. Then gently stroking his sides from his armpits to his pelvis, then frolicking his tentacles along his hind legs, it twisted the dragon as it wanted, and enjoyed his fruitless attempts to escape. Mirdal groaned desperately through his laughter, lifting his head to the surface, seeing how the winged ones swam and had fun, how the lighthouse was flashing, and the caretaker probably continued to dispassionately observe everything that was happening and record it. Mirdal was so close to help, but he couldn't get it. No one heard his bellowing, and the bubbles were not noticed in the waves. The surface sparkled merrily, to which the bubbles ran away, beckoned with clean air, but Mirdal received only water… And the caresses of the tentacles. And the heat of suffocation. Ceasing to resist, Mirdal sank lower, to the level of the flashing toothy mouth — however, it almost immediately lifted the dragon above itself, preventing Mirdal from seeing the enemy well. Meanwhile, nav itself got the opportunity to enjoy the trembling of the dragon, which will soon be replaced by chaotic senseless movements, his shrunken belly and desperately tossing tail… If only those on the surface knew what danger awaits them below... and who is suffering there now… "What do you want?!" thought Myrdal, falling into a frenzy as the tentacles led from his chest through his stomach to his crotch. "Leave your thoughts", the answer suddenly sounded clear and clear. "Clear your mind. It's hard for me to talk to you." It was all the more difficult to clear his mind, since Mirdal's chest began to rise and fall chaotically, and they trembled — he was critically short of air. The body urged the mind to resist. The fear of a creature that surpassed the dragon in strength, the tension from asphyxia made him struggle and squirm, looking for salvation. And nav decided to calm Mirdal down by stroking his tentacles. They gently and pleasantly slid along the dragon's thighs, circled his neck and slid at his shoulders, slightly pressing, while others gently sank onto the dragon's stomach and went down, involuntarily touching the most vulnerable parts. From the conflicting feelings that gripped his consciousness and the unnatural pleasure that fused with strangulation, Mirdal really became silent, fatally frozen, like prey in the clutches of a successful hunter. "Why did you kill them...?" "To summon you" — the tentacle gently touched the shaft of Mirdal, the tip slid along its entire length and moved back. Nav hardly understood what the dragon was experiencing, but he felt that he liked these touches. Leaving the tickling, which only made the male twitch in vain, nav now fully focused on stroking the dragon. "It was difficult to summon you in any other way. We did not want to turn to traitors." Traitors... the body itself was betraying Mirdal now! He wanted to breathe, he wanted to get away... the two desires were strangely in harmony with each other. The tentacles not only stroked the head, they seemed to penetrate into the brain, breaking the will and wanting to gain access to consciousness. The dragon had neither the strength nor the ability to resist this interference. By holding him underwater, nav gained full control over the golden male, not allowing him to float to the surface or drown. Mirdal's being hovered between the desire to inhale and the inability to do so— and it seemed that it was the nav who put the dragon on the edge with his own strength. Everything Mirdal wanted was air, but not only could he not breathe, he could not even lose consciousness. But he could control himself. Then his resistance subsided, and nav stunned Mirdal with a whole stream of information, images merged with each other. That's how the navs communicated, how they enslaved their servants to themselves, fusing the desired features into their fans. But the purpose of this nav was different. He warned and told us how to fix the inevitable disasters. The desire for both air and relaxation faded into the background — Mirdal seemed to be plunged into the abyss once again, now with consciousness, and he swirled in a whirlpool of images and thoughts. But nav didn’t leave his strokes, continuing to keep Mirdal in suspense — and at the same time calm him down. The pressure on the brain stopped, and the tentacles, on the contrary, chattered more and more actively with a nearly choking dragon. Before Myrdal could recover, they spun him around and literally threw him out of the water.