Satisfied by Amgarrack's mimicry of the celestial greeting, and confident that the antigeometric being before it constituted a true, fellow Great One, Aforgomon began to disappear.  Though it knew of no possible importance in the notion of friendship, it recognized a covenant where one existed, and now thought of itself aligned with this traveler of the airless abyss.  With the alien beings visiting this world now no longer a threat in its mind, Aforgomon attuned its mind toward a far more difficult matter: pushing the young gods toward sympathy as well.

Something disturbed it, however, and on a hunch the shambler did not relocate just yet.  Though partially masked by the diluted aura of euphoria emanating from Amgarrack, there came a troubling sensation of ill intent.  Knowing that nothing mundane could have triggered this feeling, Aforgomon began to fade in once more, moving its hands together to open a tear of light.  The next moment, a vile energy swept over it, sending its wrinkled mind reeling and its lithe, sinewy body pinwheeling in space.  By the time that Aforgomon composed itself, the damage to its kin had been done, and the miniature but meddlesome craft whose fault it was appeared poised to slip away once more.  If allowed to escape, there could be no hope for the Great Ones' kinship, but Aforgomon lacked any method of keeping up with such a streamlined vessel.  Instead, it quickly swiped its gnarled hands at empty space, ripping open a minuscule rift through which a small, blobby thing flew like a blowgun's dart—a phantasm slug.  It smacked into the marauding ship at great speed, but unharmed thanks to its tiny mass, and obediently attached before the vessel returned to the infinite dark.  The diminutive invertebrate shared a connection with its master and would call out to the Great One wherever it might be.

Though all was silent following this series of events, Aforgomon felt the makings of a great upheaval.  No good could come of a stolen deity.  It worked quickly to transpose itself several hundred feet directly upward, atom by atom, into the bridge of the space center.  Then it waited, invisible, while the aliens began their bombardment of earth.  Brilliant light gushed from thin air in front of the commanders of the Amgetoll Forces, and from them pushed a skinless head and part of a torso.  [i]I am not of this planet, but will be its liaison,[/i] the Urtoks knew suddenly.  [i]I am of the stars, the very kin of your beloved Great One.  Dreams and knowledge are my sustenance, and I crave your insight: why do you slay guiltless men?  The thing that stole your god was beyond mortal—a tiny, subtle vessel in the dark.[/i]

Aforgomon's mouth began to open, taking on the semblance of a gaping smile.  Inside its jagged teeth was a void more insane and terrifying than the far-flung depths of space: a perpetual, murky crucible, in which any and all matter becomes incorporeal thought.  The idea of not simply dying, but having one's existence reduced to mere knowledge, more likely than not got the aliens' attention.  [i]Humanity is base, but essential to my journey.  This planet has young, foolish gods, any one of whom might bear the sin against you.  If you persist in your accusations, prepare to battle them, not the hapless humans.  They may already be on their way to take revenge.  If you persist in your naivety, I will regret depriving my kin of supplicants.  Wait while I find my brother, lest your bloodlust destroy both races.[/i]

Trusting the Urtoks to bide their time, Aforgomon withdrew into its rift, its next destination the mountain home of the gods.

[center]-=-=-[/center]

With no time to waste, the typically methodical shambler instead manifested with a near full-bodied apparition instead, blinking into existence in a hall of Olympus.  The sudden and impossible occurrence, combined with the near-completeness of its manifestation, caused a mental ripple in the entire region of the palace in which it arrived.  While the soldiers, servants, and gods, both old and knew, suffered headaches of various degree, Aforgomon peered around with its senses.  Unexpectedly, Olympus, too, seemed to be in turmoil.  Did the Urtoks make it here already?  The Great Ones felt a sudden starvation for the answer.  In its confusion, however, an undead warrior of the old gods pierced its pale shin with his gladius, spilling murky bluish fluid onto the hallowed hall's tiles.  For a moment, Aforgomon froze, registering the sensation of pain.

Then it [i]screamed[/i].  Its guttural, bloodcurdling wail echoed through the halls, and a sudden maniacal vigor flooded its freely-bleeding body.  In the dark air, great gashes of light appeared on their own, and from them extended dozens and dozens of oversized human arms.  They lashed around indiscriminately, grabbing onto the old gods' warriors and pulling them to pieces.  Aforgoman reached down, plucked the soldier that wounded it off the ground, at slammed it into the nearest wall.  Still shrieking, it mashed the warrior into the stone again and again until it was wet and chunky enough to stick there of its own accord, after which the shambler continued mashing, again and again and again and again, until there was nothing but a brown paste.  The soldiers that survived the onslaught of arms until the rifts closed rushed at Aforgomon, spears at the ready.  Instantly they found themselves impaled are crushed in half by tentacles that squirmed from a hole of light spawned in Aforgoman's wound.  The next moment, the hall was quiet and lonely once again, except for the shivering of a Great One.

A few moments later, Aforgomon trudged, serene, into another hall.  Inside it sensed a peculiarly familiar form.  [i]Mother.[/i]  Aphrodite's mind heard.  [i]Like an eggshell, you are so small now that you've fulfilled your purpose.  Perhaps you have returned in search of a fond memory...lying bloated and vast in an empty room, waiting for the day you might find your worth?[/i]  Though the Great One took offense to the Merged, and favored the old gods, it valued Aphrodite as nothing more than a used womb.