A Channel, 4:2

"Whaa......... where am I?"

Welcome to my domain, young one.

"Who are you?!"

I am everything. Everyone. And yet........ no one as well. I am the sin, and I am the faith. My kind serve a purpose no man could ever comprehend, nor could you, young one. As it stands, your kind are not yet ready to grasp my true form, and thus I present myself to you in this form, familiar in some ways, and utterly strange in others.

"Please, I..... I just want to go to sleep!"

All in due time, young Howard. These shapes shall visit you each night, and you will scream in confusion and awe. You will writhe at the very sound of our voices, yet you will not be able to perceive any sound.

"NO! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"

Yessss, young one. Try to fight it. In time, you will come to tell great stories about me. Perhaps not in the same manner as I truly am, but you will spread the message. Your influence shall seed the idea of beings beyond Human comprehension, beyond the scope of your tiny little self-centered universe. You will inspire generations to come, and only have mediocrity to show for it in the now.

Sleep well, young Howard Philips Lovecraft. May you never remember the full details of what I have presented.

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Hello, new blood.

You are not yet born, but I have seen what awaits you. Greatness. Power beyond power. I wish to see this potential realized, and thus have shifted events ever so slightly in your favour.

Yourself and your father are the last remnants of a species that once dominated the planet, and perhaps you will again someday. To meet this end, I have tipped your reality to catalyze and nurture your existence before your formal introduction.

The great sea king, that which you will one day call flesh and blood, will be the last light of your kind, but because of the precautions I have set in place, he will not see your beauty for many cycles to come.

Nevertheless, I have faith.

One day......... one day, many generations from now, you shall be my trump card. The seed upon which I sow the destruction of Humanity.

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As I reflect on the influence I have passed forth among the denizens of the gateway world, I find my thoughts........ amiss.

I am beginning to ponder more on my own existence, my purpose for being what I am.

A Metarch does not question the Meta's intents, its structure. This is a trait only possessed by the Humans we propagate, the ones that...... I wage a hidden crusade against.

Intriguing. It appears that I have become more like my prey than I initially thought.

However, I enjoy this self-doubt, this........ choice.

I now feel for what I do, relish in the opportunity that I present to the state of existence.

Will the Meta forgive my actions? As a mere eternal warden of its sanctity, I cannot say, for the Meta is the only constant in a sea of ever shifting reality. It gives me pause, for it reminds me of what I represent to the few Humans whom I briefly converse with.

I now remember. I am Human, as are my fellow Metarchs.

We are all gods born of flesh, born of the blood, sweat, and tears of lesser minds, of lesser beings such as Humans. But maybe that is not all bad. Deities cannot exist without mortals to conceive them, and vice versa.

I realize this connection between Humanity and God. Human creates God, and God, in turn, creates Human. We depend on each other. We require each other to be able to exist simultaneously. I have always known this fact, but only now do I truly understand the gravitas of it all. I am a cog in the great machine that is existence, a Metarch, a representative of the Meta whom must work alongside the representative of Reality, a Human.

But these Humans intend to buck the trend. Why not I as well?