Mahoraga in Lord of the Mysteries

Mahoraga stood alone in the vast, illusory expanse where time and space had unravelled. What was once an endless desert of golden sand, whispering with ancient secrets, had collapsed into absolute nothingness, stripped of meaning and form. The void stretched infinitely in all directions, an abyss without light, sound, or sensation; a place where reality had lost its grip, leaving behind only the echoes of what once was.

With the flick of his wrist, Mahoraga stirred the stagnant void, an action so simple yet carrying the weight of inevitability. The laws of reality buckled, twisted, and then shattered as time recoiled.

A force beyond mortal comprehension rippled outward, reversing entropy itself. The void trembled, warped against its will, as if resisting the impossibility of what was to come.

Then, from the depths of non-existence, something stirred. At first, it was nothing more than the suggestion of sound; a whisper at the edge of perception. Soon, however, like a flood breaking through a weakened dam, it burst forth.

Countless voices, an immeasurable cacophony, clawed their way into reality. They did not simply speak or scream; they were. They layered over one another, folding and twisting, a madness of contradictions: deep, guttural growls interwoven with high-pitched laughter, the agonized wails of the suffering merged with the serene hymns of the devoted. Children's giggles turned into the rasping mutterings of the elderly in an instant, as if time itself was meaningless to the being they belonged to.

The Inextinguishable Ravings had returned.

No longer a monstrous centipede writhing through the dimensions, no longer bound by physicality, it manifested as its true self; a formless, eternal insanity given voice. It was a fragment of the Original Creator's shattered mind, a deity whose very existence defied understanding.

It did not merely speak; it was language itself, a raw and chaotic concept given life, its every utterance bending the minds of those who heard it toward delirium. The voices, ceaseless and ever-changing, spoke words that had no origin, languages never meant to be heard.

Some utterances were secrets that should have remained lost, forbidden knowledge that gnawed at the mind. Others were meaningless, random syllables strung together in a cruel mockery of coherence. Some words could not even be comprehended; they existed in a space beyond sound, carried directly into the thoughts of those who could perceive them, reshaping perception with each incomprehensible syllable.

As it howled and babbled in its many voices, the void around it responded in kind. The fabric of space twisted unnaturally, forming impossible geometries that existed in conflicting dimensions. Whispers bled into the empty abyss, creating echoes where there should have been none. The air, though there was none, felt thick with unseen weight, as if the very concept of silence was being rewritten.

Mahoraga watched the rising storm of insanity with an expression of cold indifference. Another flick of his wrist.

Silence.

Not the absence of sound, but a void where sound itself had been erased. Where once an overwhelming deluge of voices screamed in madness, now there was nothing, no echoes, no reverberations, not even the memory of sound. The void had consumed them all, leaving behind a crushing, oppressive quiet.

The Inextinguishable Ravings, despite being an Outer Deity, recoiled.

Though it could not be destroyed, though it could not be silenced by mortal means, Mahoraga's power was no such thing. His dominion stretched into realms where Great Old Ones themselves were stripped of meaning.

"Be silent," Mahoraga commanded.

His voice did not raise, nor did it need to. It simply was, absolute and unquestionable. The chaotic symphony had no choice but to obey.

"And no more puppets," the words carried an unspoken weight.

Puppets; avatars, fragments, echoes of itself that sought to spread its madness, would no longer be tolerated.

The Inextinguishable Ravings had been pulled from the abyss once more, but it would not be allowed to act as it once had.

Mahoraga turned, and the void itself collapsed inward, folding upon itself in an unfathomable implosion. He stepped through the unravelling space, disappearing into the unseen currents beyond reality.

The silence remained.

The void lingered.

And for the second time in eternity, the Inextinguishable Ravings, the eternal chaos given voice, was mute.

…

A similar scene occurred on the planet where the Uncertain Mist was recreated. This time, Mahoraga directly asked it.

"How do I awaken this 'Him' you spoke of."

"He cannot be awoken by beings of our stature-"

"Do not bore me with your riddles, Mist."

"The barrier between His resting place, the wall that keeps us out… Destroy it and allow us to feast. The inevitable will happen and He will awaken."

"Huh… that's it?"

"…"

Mahoraga laughed while vanishing from his location into a single point, heading straight towards the barrier of earth.