Reincarnated Cthulhu
Chapter 35: Fear my name, YLTH

“We do not teach academics.” Callas stated flatly. “Instead, we help you gain wisdom. All the symbols within the college, including the six-faced clock, aid in the growth of wisdom. Surely you wouldn’t argue against protecting innocent people from invisible threats?”

He interrupted me as if he already knew my objections. Then, turning to the student standing beside me, he continued. “You might think I’m fabricating this, so I’ll ask her directly. She’s an Oldcourt student who has attended my lectures.”

Suddenly thrust into the spotlight, she flinched and hunched her shoulders. This was a side of her I hadn’t witnessed when we were alone. More accurately, she had only shown her eccentric behavior to me.

“Student, what did you learn is the essence of wisdom?” “The essence of wisdom is, um…” She mumbled in a low voice, clearly hesitant. Since I remembered what she had told me, I answered in her place. “The essence of wisdom is the invisible enemy. I heard it from her.”

“Excellent.” Callas smiled with satisfaction. “It might sound suspicious, but the origin of the word ‘invisible’ runs quite deep. It certainly didn’t originate at Oldcourt. In 1645, English scientists were all tormented by a common problem. They discovered several elements that completely contradicted existing scientific laws. As they exchanged letters and spoke with one another, they realized they were all confronting the same issue, and gathered to solve it.”

“Did you just say 1645?” I frowned at the mention of that familiar year. Callas clapped his hands like a professor delighted by a sharp student’s insight.

“Precisely. 1645, the landmark year when the Invisible College, considered the precursor to the Royal Society, first convened.”

The Royal Society. That name appeared here too. ■■■ ■■ ■■■ Chancellor, Royal Society—I had believed them to be one and the same, but Callas showed no indication of this. He seemed to genuinely revere the Chancellor as an individual, while remaining oddly indifferent toward the Royal Society.

“Robert Boyle led that research. He pioneered Invisibology. You’ve likely never heard that name, as it’s been kept secret for nearly 150 years since Isaac Newton’s death. It’s knowledge passed down only by word of mouth among select scholars of the Royal Society and within Oldcourt.”

He opened the window. “The essence of wisdom is the invisible enemy. Isaac Newton began the first sentence this way.”

Cool night air flowed into the room. With each breeze, starlight seemed to brush against my face along invisible currents.

“Chancellor ■■■ ■■ ■■■ created another being from humans and ensured that those lacking the wisdom to perceive the future cannot see it. This stands entirely as his achievement.”

He spoke the Chancellor’s name with reverence.

“Is that the Chancellor’s purpose? To create invisible murderous monsters?”

“How could that be? This is merely a single phase. Just one platform in his grand design.”

He was certainly not so unwise as to miss my sarcasm, yet he praised what I mocked, calling it an achievement.

“Students who learn of the future… we call them prospective graduates for convenience. These prospective graduates fall into two categories: the insane and the rational. The insane ones are dangerous. They attempt to reveal the secrets of the universe to classmates whose wisdom hasn’t yet matured. So a graduate who has transcended into invisibility tears out their jaw to silence them. And to ensure they have ample time to reflect, he temporarily restrains them. For those wise enough to graduate properly, no further intervention is necessary.”

I recalled that poor student whose jaw had been ripped away, who couldn’t even control his own body.

“The rational ones fare somewhat better. They understand their purpose. They go where they’re meant to be of their own volition. Nevertheless, they pull out their own tongues to ensure they cannot speak, and gouge out their eyes to prevent themselves from seeing the future. Since wisdom ultimately comes from the brain, they must be desperate indeed to blind themselves. Foolish, but understandable.”

This time I thought of the male student—the one who had been splitting his own skull open.

“Chancellor ■■■ ■■ ■■■ established revealing the future through wisdom as the foundation of everything. Eventually, they all come to the same realization. That’s why they willingly surrender their brains, and even brainless, continue to serve the Chancellor.”

The moon hung low behind Acting Chancellor Callas’s head. The moonlight crowned him with an ethereal glow.

“Indeed. Those who glimpse the future eventually have no choice but to submit to the name of ■■■ ■■ ■■■.”

A true disciple of Chancellor ■■■ ■■ ■■■. His canonized name is St. Apollo Gregorios Callas.

“You sick bastards.” I finally couldn’t contain my disgust and spat out the words.

“Your precious Chancellor is nothing but a deranged madman with brainwashing techniques, and this university is just a slaughterhouse! There’s only a perverted monster here with an obsession for killing innocent youths and harvesting their brains! Every single one of you is just a lunatic suffering from collective delusion!”

Callas’s face contorted grotesquely.

“Chancellor ■■■ ■■ ■■■ knew from the beginning that you were one of the wise ones. That’s why he allowed you to investigate Oldcourt freely. Can’t you see that every incident you’ve experienced was designed to prepare you for this moment of understanding?”

“Looks like one of your precious Chancellor’s prophecies has failed. I intend to kill you where you stand and tear this university to the ground.”

He attempted to reason with me logically.

“We never subject them to anything they don’t desire.”

“You mean convincing them they want to extract their own brains? That’s the most persuasive argument I’ve heard yet.”

Then, as if he had foreseen my next action, he spoke with chilling detachment.

“I don’t mind if you kill me. Just please avoid my head. My brain belongs not to me but to humanity’s collective wealth.”

“You’re insane. Completely deranged.”

—————BANG!

I shot Callas in the head. Then, with trembling hands, I emptied the chamber and loaded another bullet.

—————BANG!

I fired at a graduate who had silently approached from behind. My hands shook uncontrollably. Though this wasn’t my first kill, a cold dread crystallized within me. I needed to escape immediately.

“I’m sorry. I dragged you into this mess.” I apologized to her as I hastily fled the chancellor’s office.

“It’s fine—quite an exciting conclusion to our adventure. Do professors curse too?”

“As you might know, I’m ex-navy.”

“Not all sailors have foul mouths, do they?”

She had a particular talent for making me feel embarrassed.

“So, where should we go now?” “…The Thames River.” “The river?” “I have a plan. Once we reach the river…”

We froze on the staircase as dozens of synchronized footsteps echoed from below.

“Know any other way down?” “There’s only one staircase from the chancellor’s office.”

I caught a glimpse of the graduates climbing toward us. Just that momentary glance at those abominations—dozens of faces hollowed out like scooped melons—was enough to make blood trickle from my nose.

Gasping for breath, I asked, “Did you leave a will with a lawyer? Might not hold up in court.”

“Good heavens, what talk is that? We fight until we can’t.”

Her voice had taken on an unexpected vigor. Without a word, she rummaged through my golf bag and pulled out my hunting knife.

“Careful with that blade.”

“At a time like this? How deliciously ironic. I’ve always enjoyed paradoxes.”

I couldn’t tell if she was mocking me or being genuine. As she unsheathed the knife, she frowned.

“Damascus steel… heavier than I imagined.”

We retreated to the chancellor’s office. Acting Chancellor Callas’s brain matter decorated the floor in grisly patterns. The graduates had already reached the door. I’d shot several from a distance, but they advanced unperturbed, as if death meant nothing.

“If only I had a proper sword for an occasion like this.”

Ignoring her odd comment, I knew the moment of reckoning had arrived.

“The book. From the bag. Now.” “What? Yes!”

Despite her confusion, she quickly obeyed. As I read the characters emblazoned on the cover, my heart plummeted like an anchor. Each breath became a struggle, as if my lungs were filling with seawater.

“The Gospel of Blackriver”

I thrust the rifle into her hands. She fumbled, dropping the hunting knife as she clutched the gun.

“Can you shoot?” “Just pull the trigger, right? But why are you giving me—”

I gripped her shoulders, my eyes boring into hers. “If I start to lose my mind, shoot me. Don’t hesitate.”

Whispers. Whispers. The whispers grew louder. I frantically turned the pages. Even with no river or sea nearby, whatever power it might grant was better than dying helplessly.

“Cover your ears.”

I began the incantation. A blasphemous prayer that defiled my god, dragged it into the muck, and exalted the foul depths of the accursed sea.

The transformation was immediate and horrific. The blood pooled around Callas’s body congealed into fetid sludge. Salt water erupted from his burst intestines, bloating his corpse like a drowned man. From my mouth poured hundreds of writhing sea worms, glistening with mucus.

The pale, segmented horrors squirmed and burrowed into Callas’s remains, devouring him from within.

Still, I thirsted. Because there was no sea here. No ocean. I gazed up at the cosmos and cursed it. Like the first fish that dragged itself onto land, I despised oxygen with desiccated eyes. . .. … ….. ……… My consciousness drifted abandoned in the vast emptiness of space. I was Laika—cosmic refuse discarded among the stars. ……… ….. … .. . My mind hurtled billions of years forward.

I awoke atop a mountain of ants. No, that description fails me. There was no exaggeration in calling it a mountain, but I could hardly claim to be “atop” them. Innumerable ants worked their pincers between layers of my flesh, marching in regimented columns up and down my body.

Did you know ants possess upper and lower mandibles? They rend prey with their hardened upper jaws and pulverize it with the dense, tiny teeth of their lower mandibles for digestion. I had never contemplated such details—until they began to devour my eyes.

They feasted on my eyes without mercy, and my left eye succumbed to permanent blindness. —————AAAARGH!

I leapt up screaming. Some of the seething mass fell away, while the most tenacious clung until the flesh they gripped tore free. My entire body was a canvas of minute wounds from teeth and claws—a grotesque masterpiece of pointillism rendered in blood.

I began walking, fleeing endlessly. Any pause, however brief, invited them to swarm up my ankles anew. Even so, my feet remained indefensible; the skin of my legs was flayed away, muscles stripped fiber by fiber, until only blackened bones remained. I never realized human bones could be so utterly dark—like obsidian beneath the flesh.

Ants exist solely to consume and breed. Their pheromones, once analogous to language, now merely advertise their hindquarters—a mechanism inviting consumption by their brethren.

Staggering naked and hunted, I finally understood where I stood. This was Earth.

Earth entombed in the void. Humanity extinct. The ants had achieved infinity. Only they—unfathomably stupid and unbothered by cannibalizing their own—could truly endure. No space remained for new life; the universe teemed with writhing darkness resembling endless colonies of ants.

Having glimpsed humanity’s wretched future, I bowed my head and wept in utter desolation. Armstrong’s footprints, once thought eternal, lay buried in cosmic dust. Neither moon nor sun would rise again. This windless realm was a domain of perpetual stasis.

I walked without ceasing. The slightest pause invited the ants to ascend and feast on what little flesh remained.

With no celestial bodies to mark time, unable to sleep while perpetually moving, my mind fractured with each passing moment as I drifted through eternity. I couldn’t determine whether I had wandered for hours, weeks, or centuries.

I attempted suicide twice, only to discover my immortality—even with hands gnawed to stumps. I had become a mutilated husk, stripped of dignity.

Amid this unending nightmare, I received a revelation.

It was a light of absolute darkness. I ran madly for days upon endless days to reach it. It was light—the final radiance of Earth, no, of the entire universe. In sacred awe, tears flowed from my desiccated eyes.

Ten luminous beacons hovered mysteriously above the remnants of stars.

I prostrated myself before the presence I instantly recognized as humanity’s new sovereign. The ants devouring my flesh meant nothing now as I knelt in submission.

Beside me, four predecessors already served in reverent attendance. I recognized one though I had never beheld his face—an instinctive knowledge pierced my soul. It was ■■■ ■■ ■■■.

(1:1) And God said, “Let there be light,” and ten lamps were kindled.

(1:2) And the Lord spake all these words, leaving nothing unspoken:

(1:3) “I am thy Lord who anointeth thee, and thou shalt fear my name, YLTH.”

(1:4) “Thou, Philemon, shalt prepare my kingdom to reign the next thousand years according to my commandments.”

(1:5) “Thou shalt leave no other gods beside me.”

(1:6) “Thou shalt not utter my name in vain.”

(1:7) “Thou shalt not declare guiltless those who fear not my name.”

(1:8) “Thou shalt bear no children, but commit adultery with the children of others and teach them blasphemy.”

(1:9) “Thou shalt build a temple unto me, offering no beasts save humans.”

(1:10) “Thou shalt construct an ark three hundred cubits in length, fifty cubits in depth, and thirty cubits in height, wherein I may dwell whensoever I desire.”

(1:11) “I am he who dwelleth behind the tabernacle, master of millennia past, and lord of the final millennium.”

(1:12) “I have sworn thus to make it so.”

(1:13) The Lord inquired, “The first anointed offered his limbs, eyes, tongue, and peace. Canst thou do likewise?” I answered, “Nay.”

(1:14) Again He spake, “The second anointed offered half of himself, his children, and their descendants unto generations, breeding prodigiously. Canst thou do likewise?” I answered, “Nay.”

(1:15) Again He spake, “The third anointed offered the god his fathers worshipped, all who served him, and now even the land they inhabit. Canst thou do likewise?” I answered, “Nay.”

(1:16) Again He spake, “The fourth anointed offered five pure souls and five impure, extracted their blood before dawn and dusk, scattered a basket of fine gold dust, ground them to powder,”

(1:17) “placed them in a jade casket three cubits long and one cubit deep, mixed with half a hin of oil and half a hin of wine pressed from that year’s choicest grapes. Canst thou do likewise?” I answered, “Nay.”

(1:18) Again He spake, “The fifth anointed swore to devote his lifetime and the next to my service. Canst thou do likewise?” I answered, “Nay.”

(1:19) “What then canst thou offer?”

(1:20) I proclaimed, “A sound mind, which hundreds possess not, and hundreds more such treasures.”

(1:21) The Lord laughed with terrible mirth and declared:

(1:22) “Thus hast thou spoken before.”

I remained bowed in obeisance. The ants that had scaled my arms marched in orderly columns into my ear canals. The sounds of their breathing, their weeping, their screaming—it tore at my eardrums like razors.

One of the ten lamps flickered and died.

At once, the four kneeling figures beside me and six terrible eyes turned upon me, their gaze burning with accusation.

“Professor, look! Look!”

My consciousness plummeted back through billions of years, crashing once more upon the shores of reality.

For a long while, I couldn’t recognize the student standing beside me—my mind lagging behind my soul in its return to reality. In her eyes shimmered the same reverence one might feel upon witnessing the aurora borealis over the North Sea.

I raised my gaze skyward.

The night sky’s scales rippled with violet luminescence, undulating like some cosmic tide. Stars that had once hung like buoys in the cosmic expanse now drifted helplessly in the swirling vortex.

The faceless graduates swam through the darkness, ascending toward the heavens. Their ascent was unhurried, arms extending and contracting like carp navigating the depths of an ancient pond.

Eventually, they reached the membrane of the sky, creating ripples across its surface. Then, like insects being devoured by a predatory plant, like vermin sinking into quicksand, they were swallowed by the heavens themselves.

And then it was over.

Not one of the dozens of graduates remained.

“Professor, what have you done?!”

“The sky… I transformed the sky into an ocean. They’ve returned to the sea.”

“I don’t… I can’t comprehend what you’re saying.”

Her words faltered.

“Would you do me the kindness of shooting me in the head with that gun?”

“What?”

“Quickly… please, I implore you.”

My mind had been utterly shattered by the experience. Though I might someday return to sanity, at that moment I was nothing but a madman. I begged her desperately. Pleading for death, I reluctantly placed my hands on her delicate, porcelain-white throat. Even as I did so, I knew strangling her wasn’t what I truly desired.

It was light that halted my movement. Like Mephistopheles confronted with the divine, I gazed upward and froze in primal terror.

My insanity receded momentarily.

The churning cosmos had suddenly erupted in blinding radiance.

A sun had risen in the night sky. Upon closer inspection, I realized it merely resembled the sun but was something else entirely. A perfect white circle, the source of all illumination.

Since its appearance, night had ceased to be night. The stars, which moments before had glittered intensely as if about to rain down upon us, now retreated like frightened children before this new presence.

After staring transfixed for what seemed an eternity, I discerned its true nature.

A human figure. Though its face was veiled with cloth, the form was unmistakably human. The circular light hovered behind its head—a divine radiance, the sacred halo of a saint.

The voice of this entity, surely kilometers distant, reached us with crystal clarity.

It pronounced:

“My name is Casey O’Gerald.”

Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! She Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come! Casey O’Gerald has come!