Although the origin of the Outer Gods is unknown—after all, the style of the Cthulhu Mythos is the terror of cosmic unknowns, so naturally it won't go into detailed settings about how they evolved—but there are indeed traces to follow as to why their forms of existence look like they do now.
Just as disasters on Earth have sources, so too must disasters in the cosmos have origins. Supernova explosions, stars going dark, even an outburst from the Phoenix—there always has to be a reason.
The special environment of the Cthulhu Mythos Universe may well be the reason the Outer Gods are so extraordinarily colossal. Here, the direction of life's evolution is no longer toward individual beings and civilizations, but toward natural disasters without end gaining Wisdom. And any environment that can produce so many disasters is naturally not to be underestimated.
These pillar gods that support the structure of the cosmos are, precisely, Rule Level cosmic disasters. Observed from outside the cosmos, they are impossibly vast, yet the things they can stir within the cosmos are not as numerous as one might imagine. It's like a marlin that has spent its life battling huge waves: compared to the fish in inland lakes and rivers it's a giant, but out in the ocean it may not be able to dominate.
What's more, this mouse is only a clone. You could say that the Outer Gods' clones are at the bottom of the food chain back home. If they're still in contact it's not so bad, but once they lose contact, they may honestly be worse off than these few cats.
Whether or not this mouse is making things up, Shiller has no intention of letting him go. The grudge between Yog and Misisha—only he knows the precise intel. Before the next cycle arrives, they need to wring as much information out of him as they can.
There wasn't enough time today to complete the Array and the ritual, so they went to sleep first. Sleeping on an empty stomach doesn't feel good, but there's nothing to be done about it. Fortunately, the strange noises in the middle of the night were much softer, and they managed to get a good sleep.
At dawn the next day, Constantine continued to draw the Array, using the blood of some creatures and plants. But since the master he was summoning was already here, there was no need to make it too complicated. The other cats decided to go check the lakeside.
Even though they already knew it would definitely be a hellscape over there, Shiller still wanted to look for the little drone's tracks. He knew the chances were slim, but they had to try. So apart from Constantine and the mouse, all the cats headed toward the water source.
They had barely gone out before they came back covered in dirt and dust. The reason was simple: they relied on their earlier experience and moved along the branches, but in this spacetime, the trees held more than just these house cats. There was also a sort of leopard-like thing, with a huge mouth growing from its belly. They had only gone a few hundred meters before being chased into chaos, and it took a great deal of effort to get away.
They'd already been hungry, and now they were even more dizzy and lightheaded. They could only return to the cave to rest, licking each other's fur for comfort.
"Say, aren't you being a bit too catlike?" the mouse squatted at the cave mouth and said. He wasn't hungry at all, since he could eat the stuff around here—he'd just gnawed a bird's head and was using dirt to wash his face. "Can't you at least try the Human race's methods?"
"Without human hardware, how are we supposed to try human methods?" Little Superman asked. "If we can't walk upright, we can't free up our forepaws, and we can't use tools. What can we possibly do?"
The mouse seemed to think of something and said, "True enough. I really don't know what you were thinking, abandoning such a handy Human race body just to be cats—and you didn't even bring any weapons or gear in. Going hungry is basically what you deserve."
When he said this, Shiller thought of how the technology in Cat City Gotham was actually quite advanced. When they broke in back then, all the cats had Battle Armor that could not only fly but also fire weapons. If they'd known in advance they'd turn into cats, they definitely would've brought it along. Too bad there's no if.
Just as the cats were so hungry they were barely hanging on, Constantine finally finished drawing the Array. The cats lay down on the Array, and the mouse put on airs by climbing to a higher spot. Constantine and the mouse muttered incantations under their breath; all the cats had to do was lie still.
"Can this really work?" Peter was skeptical. "What if he's not a good guy—I mean, what if he's faking it? What do we do then?"
"All I can say is that he's definitely Nya," Shiller said. "In this cosmos, the only one who can act this human is Nyarlathotep. The other Outer Gods couldn't fake it this well even if they wanted to. As for whether this method works—do we actually have another choice?"
Peter sighed and rested his chin on the ground. Shiller turned to look at him and asked, "Are you feeling tired?"
"Not tired, really. I just feel like I'm not much use." Peter's whiskers twitched. "I thought I might be able to do some scientific research or at least manufacture some practical gear, but now it looks like that's completely impossible."
"You've already provided a lot of help," Shiller said.
At that moment Little Superman scooted closer and asked, "What are we going to turn into?"
"No idea, but it shouldn't look too bad," Shiller said. "Nya's aesthetics are pretty decent. All his clones look quite good—I even keep one in the tower."
Suddenly, a gust of dark wind swept in, and all the cats passed out. In their clouded consciousness they saw a towering black figure, yet it had no shape and no substance, only leaving a sort of impression. Drums and flutes sounded, and a chill breath spread out.
Certain content appeared in their minds. When Shiller jolted awake, he had forgotten what he'd seen, but he remembered the things that had been told to him. Immediately afterward, he heard a shrill scream from the mouse.
"God!" the mouse shouted. "You guys connected to the main body?!"
Shiller clicked his tongue. "Seems like it. He also told me some stuff, I'm trying to recall it."
The mouse grew a bit agitated. He said, "This Array cannot possibly connect to the main body, unless he actively reaches out to you. But if he can find you, he definitely can find me too, so why didn't he…"
"Don't rush," Shiller said. "What he told me is exactly about this. Let me think it through."
The mouse immediately shut up, staring at him with hopeful eyes. Shiller paced back and forth for a long time, then said, "The current chaos in the cosmos is indeed Misis Hagan's doing. His conflict with Yog has entered a white-hot phase. Right now all of Nyarlathotep's clones have lost contact."
The mouse's eyes went wide. "It's that bad?"
"The Tindalos Hounds are constantly smashing the spacetime pillars Yog built, chopping large continuous timelines into broken angles. And you clones never had much Strength to begin with down here; all the ones who recently tried to return to report in got completely lost."
The mouse clearly hadn't expected things to have gotten this serious. He said, a bit flustered, "What do we do, then? We can't stay away from the main body too long, otherwise we'll gradually degenerate into residue."
"Who do you think your main body wants to win?"
"You still need to ask? Obviously Yog. If the timelines really get chopped that fine, how are us clones supposed to commute? Those angle timelines aren't somewhere the Human race can even exist…"
"That's what he said too," Shiller replied. "We have to find a way to help Yog win, drive off that bunch of mutts who do nothing but wreck the place. As payment for the deal, your main body gave us some Strength."
The mouse looked at him and then said, "Then my main body…"
"We still can't send you back yet. Otherwise you might get ambushed on the way. He wants you to stay where you are, don't run around, and try not to draw the Hunter's attention."
The mouse burst out in fury, clearly cursing in the Outer God language. But Shiller could understand it; with Misisha wrecking things like this, the first one pissed off is Yog, and the second has got to be Nya.
You can put it like this: Yog is a construction worker; he built a building, and inside the building there's a company with many departments. Shabu is HR, in charge of all the personnel work, including production and recruiting new employees. And Nya is the sales department; the employees under him are supposed to go out and run business.
Misisha, meanwhile, is basically trying to smash all the interior walls of Yog's building and rebuild them according to his own taste. And his pathing is different from everyone else's—or rather, he can walk through walls while others can't—and he just wants to turn the whole building into a maze.
The one most opposed is definitely Yog, the builder. Not just because the building itself was raised by him and Misisha is basically here to steal the fruits, but more importantly the building's structure is his carefully designed work, his artistic creation. And now someone shows up wanting to knock it down and rebuild—how could he not be pissed?
In fact, Nya's level of opposition might not be any weaker. The corridors inside the building are walked the most by him and his employees; Yog and Shabu just hunker down in their offices and practically never go out. But Nya is different. His clones run around who knows how many trips a day. If you make the building into a maze, how are the clones supposed to move around?
Even if Nya's main body can operate within angle timelines, among so many clones there are bound to be ones that can't. So what, every clone from now on has to be molded to main-body specs? Or do they have to set up a dedicated shuttle service, pick-up and drop-off?
Honestly, if Misisha really sat down with Nya and worked out his clones' travel issues, it might not be impossible. But the problem is, Misisha is extremely short-tempered, with hunting Instinct overriding everything. His personality is practically Yog's polar opposite—he tears into anything he sees, utterly incapable of negotiation.
This time, Misisha went straight for the load-bearing walls of the building. The foundation and lower floors are barely holding together, but the upper levels have basically collapsed. Now not only can people not get out, a whole bunch of Nya's clones are crushed inside. How could he not be furious?
So when the cats set up the Array, the main body basically hijacked the line and rerouted the call straight to himself. These Outer Gods communicate with the Human race by directly pushing compressed packets into consciousness. Shiller had been zoning out for so long because he was trying to sift useful information out of that giant compressed bundle of profanity. His time in Human Society hadn't been for nothing—Nya's swearing is seriously filthy.
"What Strength did he give you?" the mouse asked, a bit curious.
"Honestly, not much." Shiller was clearly still reading through the data. "Too much would mess with our minds, so he only gave us the most crucial part."
With that, he wrapped a nearby branch with one of his tails, waved it in front of the mouse, then with a whoosh, flung the branch out. It shot straight into the tree trunk and stuck there.