Once, beneath the grey shroud of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, a peculiar museum stood, its relics whispering tales of forgotten epochs and cosmic dread. The moment the curious visitor crossed the threshold, a sensation of dreadful familiarity clawed at the fringes of their consciousness, as if the shadows themselves had long awaited their return. Understanding dawned too late—the artifacts were no mere curiosities, but vestiges of an ancient, alien will that had slumbered beneath the very ground they tread, eternally binding human fate to the indifferent vastness beyond the stars.
Saved at 2025-11-10 12:41 UTC
