Luna: Meddling human fool, who are you to command me?

"Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and the guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again."

Mumm-ra stood brooding over his cauldron. Tonight would be a full lunar eclipse. Not that he had anything against darkness, but at every eclipse, the Ancient Spirits of Evil would get him to use the ancient spellbook. He already had it with him, just to save the bother of fetching it. He pulled it out into the feeble light to look at it.

The ancient tome looked like a fairly typical spellbook: Leather covers, heavy brass clasps, badly done picture of Cthulhu on the front, almost two inches thick.

Every page was blank.

Except during an eclipse. Then one page would have a spell that could only be cast once. That page would then vanish. And every time the spell would backfire or fail.

His old teacher gave it to him. Mumm-ra learned recently that his teacher was none other than Nyarlathotep. That explained a lot. The Crawling Chaos never just gave anything away, 'For madness and the void's wild vengeance are Nyarlathotep's only gifts to the presumptuous.' Mumm-ra had the Elder Text that that quote was taken from. For the moment, he couldn't place the author. It was accurate, though.

On cue, the statues representing the Ancient Spirits of Evil spoke. Of course, he had also learned that his Ancient Spirits of Evil were actually masks of some of the Great Old Ones - Cthulhu, Hastur, Shub-Niggurath, and Tsathoggua. "Mumm-ra, it isss an eclipssse tonight," they hissed in unison. "The ssspellbook, Mumm-ra."

"I have it."

"Goood. Be ready, Mumm-ra, for the time of the eclipssse is sssoon at hand." The light faded from the eyes of the statues.

Mumm-ra held the heavy book in one hand and flipped it open with the other. This page was titled The Rending of the Threshold.

The sorcerer paused. He knew from his studies that the Great Old One Yog-Sothoth was also known as the Lurker at the Threshold. Yog-Sothoth lived in all space and all time, yet was somehow absent from reality. If the threshold tears, will Yog-Sothoth come through?

Mumm-ra decided he wouldn't. If all it took for Yog-Sothoth to return was a spell cast by a human, the Ancient Spirits of Evil would have got him to cast it long ago. It must mean something else.

Seconds before midnight, Mumm-ra was finishing his spell. He took the last component - a large sheet of cloth - roughly tore it in half, and threw the pieces into the cauldron. The statues eyes flashed for a moment, then went dark. The cauldron bubbled twice, then was still. Beyond that, nothing. Mumm-ra shot a questioning look at the statues, but they remained silent. He decided that if he did the spell wrong, he would have been yelled at by now. However, he still worried. Nothing seemed different, nothing changed.

Then he did sense it. It was faint, it would take time, but it was there. Tired, though rather pleased with himself, Mumm-ra returned to his sarcophagus to rest.

Over the last several weeks, the Lunatacs noticed that Alluro was drawing into himself again, as he had when R'lyeh had risen and his powers were out of control. Luna had confronted him about it several days ago, telling him that if Cthulhu had somehow returned, he should warn the rest of them. When Alluro asked why Luna had thought that, she pointed out his behaviour. The hypnotist pointed out that Luna wasn't exactly as loud as she used to be, either.

Now that Luna had blown off some steam, she realized Alluro was right. Whatever it was, they were all affected. She decided against asking the Thundercats if they felt anything similar. If they didn't, the cats would realize that if they attacked, the Lunatacs would be ill-equipped to defend themselves.

Now that she knew what she was looking for, Luna noticed the strange condition affecting all of them. Alluro had it the worst, looking tired and haunted, and looking through you when you spoke to him. Now that she thought about it, Knave was also not well-off; apparently his cheetah psychic senses were acting up. Chilla walked as if in a dream, doing her job but doing it in a detached way, as if it wasn't real and didn't really matter. Mystan had developed the annoying habit of checking on people every few minutes. Tug-Mug was constantly looking over his shoulder, expecting an attack, even if his back was to a wall. Psikaris, while already shy, was now scared of her own shadow. Red-Eye seemed to be listening to something that he couldn't quite hear. Psychro mostly just zoned out. Amok would sometimes strike out, trying to grab something he saw out of the corner of his eye. And Gods help her, Luna sometimes saw the shadow of what Amok lashed out at.

Luna steered Amok down to Alluro's workshop. He didn't answer her knock, so she barged right in. The hypnotist wasn't actually working on anything, merely staring intently at a point in the air. Luna had to prod him with her riding crop before Alluro acknowledged her presence. He jumped and dropped into a crouch, as if expecting attack, then recognized Luna and relaxed. "Yes?"

"Didn't you hear me knock?" shrilled Luna.

"I don't really trust doors."

Luna resisted the urge to sigh, or slap him, or have Amok knock some sense into him. She was the leader; she had to remain sane and in control. "Run some tests on the air and water. See if there's some chemical affecting all of us."

The psychic's reaction was completely unexpected. He laughed. It wasn't his usual suave, calculated laugh, either. It was hollow, far away, and devoid of all hope. Alluro laughed hard enough to fall out of his chair. After a few minutes of this, he struggled into a sitting position on the floor, caught his breath, and smiled up at his leader. "My dear Luna, I did those tests weeks ago. The air is fine, the water is fine, it is that... reality is wrong."

"Alluro, you're insane."

He waved a hand dismissively. "No, no, I'm fine. But see how everyone is acting? Like a dream that is almost real life, but not quite, and you can't quite put your finger on what's wrong, and you're just on the verge of waking up?"

Luna was about to order Amok to cart Alluro off to a nice, quiet dungeon, but his last question gave her pause. 'On the verge of waking up' seemed an eerily accurate description of how she felt. "What happens when we wake up?"

For a minute, Alluro seemed like himself. "How should I know?"

Then he laughed again.

Luna decided not to lock Alluro up. After all, if she locked up a Lunatac every time they did something weird, she wouldn't have a crew. She would talk to Chilla next, maybe get more of an idea what's going through Alluro's hopefully unbroken mind.

The small Lunatac found Chilla trying to expand a crack in the wall. She had taken off her gloves for a better grip. The crack was hardly a millimetre wide, barely enough for the ice woman to get the tips of her nails into. "Chilla," said Luna.

Chilla turned at her name, and had the decency to look embarrassed. She looked down to where she was wringing her bare hands. "I... I thought I saw something," she mumbled.

"Something through the crack."

"Yes."

"Chilla, has Alluro said anything to you about the way everyone is acting?"

The ice woman looked up with some of her old defiance. "He said not to tell anyone."

"I've already spoken to him. Whatever is happening hit him the worst, but he's had the best ideas so far." When Chilla shook her head, Luna decided to put in the open what was worrying them. "I'm not going to declare him insane or lock him away. He knows more, or at least guesses more, than the rest of us."

Chilla looked down again. "He says that he feels reality's on the verge of tearing. He's not sure if each tear will lead to a different reality, or if all will go to the same reality. He's not sure if the realities will collide and destroy each other, of if they'll merge. But if they merge, we won't know because it will always have been that way." The blue Lunatac hit the wall in frustration. "I don't understand, Luna! Nothing he says makes sense, but I feel it too. Like I'm about to wake up and find out that everything is different."

'Like I'm about to wake up...' "Thank you, Chilla," said Luna, and Chilla gave her a strange look. Luna never thanks anyone for anything, but she and Amok were out the door before Chilla could remind her of that.

Knave was probably the next best person to check. Perhaps his half-cheetah mind could give a better reading of the situation.

Or not. Chilla's half-brother was in the process of trying to get drunk. Well, he didn't seem too far gone yet, so Luna parked Amok at the table. "Alluro seems to think reality's going to rip."

The hybrid laughed at that. "Alluro," he drawled, "is an idiot. Just 'cause he's right this time doesn't mean he's not an idiot." Taking another swig of his drink ( Tug-Mug had a still some place ), he said, "See, Luna, reality's like cloth, and the cloth's gone all thin. Too much pressure in any place'll rip it."

"Cute metaphor." Psychro leaned against the door. "Heard voices, figured I should check it out. Just in case," he added, unnecessarily.

"You have any better ideas?" demanded Luna.

"Nope. Though I rather like Knave's." With a wave, he said, "Well, I'm off to Bootleggers-R-Tug-Mug."

Red-Eye was sitting quietly on the bridge. He didn't notice Luna until she waved a tiny hand in front of his face. He blinked a couple times before asking, "What?"

"What are you listening to?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I can't hear it."

As that answer made as much sense as anything else she'd heard that day, she didn't question it. "How will you know if what you'll hear is right?"

"I'll know." Red-Eye paused, as if considering something. When he reached a decision he said, "My sight isn't quite right, lately. It sort of goes gray and fuzzy around the edges."

"Like in a dream?"

The dark Lunatac stared at her. "That... that's exactly it."

"Don't worry. We'll wake up soon."

"Luna?"

Luna stopped Amok, and turned in the saddle. "Yes?"

"Maybe we should stay asleep."

Luna found Psikaris down in the hangar, going through maintenance checks for what was likely the hundredth time, apparently trying to keep herself distracted. "Psikaris?.."

The ice hybrid turned suddenly, spitting her icy breath at Luna and Amok. Luna prepared to reign Amok in from attacking the woman, but Amok merely knocked the ice off his arm and sat patiently. Perhaps it was Psikaris horrified expression at the realization of what she did that stopped him, or maybe he understood her edginess. "Oh, Luna, Amok, I'm sorry..." she started.

"Don't worry about it," said Luna, waving the incident away. "Now, the two most prevalent metaphors I've heard today are of the 'reality is thin cloth' and 'I feel like I'm asleep' variety. Opinion?"

"I - I'm sorry. I can't add to that, at least, not the cloth one. Feeling like I'm asleep and dreaming, that sounds right."

"That's the most com..." Luna's musings were cut off by the intercom.

"Psikaris?"

The hybrid woman rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mystan?"

"Just checking."

The radio shut off. Psikaris shook her head. "He does that every couple of minutes. He's driving everyone crazy."

"I'll go have a talk with him."

Mystan was in his room. Luna rarely went there. Actually, this was probably the first time she'd see it. After being admitted, she said, "Mystan, have you... what happened to this room?"

It was nothing bad, merely surprising. For one thing, it was large; likely at least one wall had been removed to increase the size of the place. And the outside wall was mostly all window. "I required some renovations when I first moved in," said the telekinetic. "The tiny chamber it was did not meet my needs."

The princess couldn't see why. Mystan didn't appear to own much stuff, and even that was all carefully put away. Though she did faintly recall Alluro griping about renovations months ago... but back to the business at hand. "Most of the crew has complained at me to do something about your constant interruptions. These have ranged from, 'it distracts me from my work' to 'if I hear him say 'just checking' one more time...'. Why do you do it, and stop it now."

"But that is all I am doing. Merely checking."

"For what?"

"I merely wish to make sure everyone is still where they are supposed to be."

"In reality."

Mystan looked surprised, then, slightly embarrassed, nodded.

Tug-Mug was in the kitchen when Luna found him. Unlike the others, he looked over when she came in. Then again, the rotund Lunatac seemed to be looking over his shoulder more often than looking forward. He seemed slightly at ease when he saw Luna and Amok. Luna thought with some annoyance that this was more likely because she wasn't an other-dimensional monster than anything else. She was tired. Luna rested her elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand and asked, "Okay, Tug-Mug. What's your take on all this weirdness?"

Tug-Mug passed his bare hand over his eyes. "There are... theengs that can step out of the air."

"Have you actually seen one?"

"No, but I feel them watcheeng. They are waiteeng. Eet ees like a nightmare, Loona, only..." He trailed off.

Luna leaned forward, ears slightly pricked up. "Yes?"

"Only wakeeng up weell be worse."

The small Lunatac sighed, then urged Amok to leave. He didn't go. He was busy staring at something hanging in the air. If she squinted, Luna could see it too. It looked like a sheet, like the air itself was a very thin sheet hiding something behind it. She could make out movement, just barely.

Tug-Mug could see it too. He quickly reached into a drawer and pulled out a knife. Before Luna could stop him, he made a vertical slash in the air, about one metre long and one metre off the floor. Luna decided not to yell at Tug-Mug. The slash in the air was much more interesting.

The air had parted slightly, like a torn sheet. Behind it was a kitchen, but not the one in Skytomb. It was less dark, for one thing. The other thing was that a rather surprised creature was looking back at them.

It was a human male, at least so Luna assumed. She'd never seen one in his prime ( Nyarlathotep didn't count. ) This one was built along the same lines as Psychro, though with dark skin and black hair down to his waist. He wore a black sweatshirt and blue jeans. His brown eyes looked into Luna's green ones before narrowing. His voice, when he spoke, was deep and annoyed and sounded as if it came from far away, "Like I need a hole to Hell in my kitchen. Don't make me come in there."

Knave ran into the room. "I felt something in... Moons of Plundarr!" He stopped beside Amok and stared at the rip.

Apparently the human heard that. "Okay, so you're not demons, and you speak English. If you go away in ten seconds, I'll pretend I never saw you."

Not knowing what else to do, Luna reached out and grabbed the metaphorical edges of the rip, and pulled them together. Reality re-knit itself, though there was still the vague sense of movement just beyond sight.

Tug-Mug said, "He was only huooman, we could have beat heem."

Luna favoured the rotund Lunatac with an irritated glare. "He only looked human. He could have been anything. Besides, where would he have learned to speak Galactic Standard?"

Luna and Amok accompanied Alluro as he headed back to his workshop. The hypnotist seemed slightly comforted by that. Luna said, "So the good news is that we're not going crazy. The bad news is that reality itself is getting thin enough to tear."

Alluro smiled mirthlessly. "I recalibrated the sensors to detect these tears. They are only appearing on Third Earth. At least the Thundercats and Mutants are having as much fun as we are."

"And Mumm-ra, though I'll be that he's the one that started it, messing around with his magic... Wasn't there an eclipse a couple months ago? Can't Mumm-ra cast more powerful spells at that time? How long have you been sensing this stuff?"

"Six weeks."

"Hmph," grumbled Luna, "Less than two months... but it's been slowly getting worse. Maybe it was too subtle before for you to notice."

"Perhaps." They had reached the workshop. Alluro opened the door. It wasn't his workshop.

I don't really trust doors...

Judging by the furniture, it was a bedroom, maybe three metres square. The owner of this room was partially obscured by various equipment on her desk. She snapped, "I told you to knock before you... oh."

The girl got up. She was about average height, with brown eyes and hair, wearing a denim shirt and blue jeans. She stormed over, poking her finger into a very surprised Alluro's chest. "Right. Prove you are who you appear to be."

"I, ah..."

Luna ( well, Amok ) shouldered her way past Alluro into the room. There wasn't much floor space left, what with Amok using most of it. "Where are we?" demanded Luna.

The girl made a face. "Earth. Year 1999. You're close to the right place, but the time and universe are way off. Or maybe just one of those, depending on your theory."

Alluro gave her a weird look. "Who are you?"

"I could come up with some cool-sounding title, but why? I'm Melissa. I'm a research sorceress. Hold out your hand." Confused, the hypnotist did. Melissa took his hand, holding it palm up, traced a few of the lines on it. "Hmm, long life-line, but that might just be because you've got big hands. Lessee, I think this one's supposed to be wealth or something..." Suddenly, she used one of her sharp nails to cause a small cut on Alluro's palm.

He snatched it back with a yelp. "What was that for?"

Melissa inspected the thick purple blood staining her nail. "You're Lunatac, all right," she said, wiping her hand with a Kleenex, "Nyarlathotep bleeds yellow. It never occurs to him to fix that."

"You know Nyarlathotep?" asked Luna, startled.

"Sort of. I call him Nyarlathotep, anyway. I'm pretty sure my friends would give him a different name." She shrugged. "Never mind. Maybe the realities will merge. I rather hope they will, though concessions would have to be made because of overcrowding. Certainly liven this place up."

"Melissa, I feel it will be disastrous if the realities merge. There are too many of them, and not all would fit. Even if concessions were made..." Alluro started.

She shrugged. "You're the psychic, you know best. Here..." she grabbed a book from its shelf. "Maybe this will help." She started reading:

"Nor is it to be thought that man is either the oldest or the last of earth's masters, or that the common bulk of life and substance walks alone. The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be. Not in the spaces we know, but between them, They walk serene and primal, undimensioned and to us unseen. Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They have trod earth's fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread. By Their smell can men sometimes know Them near, but of Their semblance can no man know, saving only in the features of those They have begotten on mankind; and of those are there many sorts, differing in likeness from man's truest eidolon to that shape without substance which is Them. They walk unseen and foul in lonely places where the Words have been spoken and the Rites howled through the Seasons. The wind gibbers with Their voices, and the earth mutters with Their consciousness. They bend the forest and crush the city, yet may not forest or city behold the hand that smites. Kadath in the cold waste hath known Them, and what man knows Kadath? The ice desert of the South and the sunken isles of Ocean hold stones whereon Their seal is engraven, but who hath seen the deep frozen city or the sealed tower long garlanded with seaweed and barnacles? Great Cthulhu is Their cousin, yet can he spy Them only dimly. Iä! Shub-Niggurath! As a foulness shall ye know Them. Their hand is at your throats, yet ye see Them not; and Their habitation is even one with your guarded threshold. Yog-Sothoth is the key to the gate, whereby the spheres meet. Man rules now where They ruled once; They shall soon rule where man rules now. After summer is winter, and after winter summer. They wait patient and potent, for here shall They reign again."

Luna's face went ashen. "You think the Old Ones are behind this?"

"Why not? If a tear happens to open up in one of Their prisons, then that one can escape and wake the others. And if the realities all merge, all will be chaos, just the way old Azathoth, chief god of the Old Ones, likes it." Melissa shelved her book. "It makes sense."

"How do we stop it?" asked Alluro.

"Talk to Yog-Sothoth."

"You're joking."

The research sorceress shot him a dirty look. "The Old Ones aren't evil, just self-interested." She picked up a different book. Alluro noticed that the author was the same. "Listen: 'Carter wondered at the vast conceit of those who had babbled of the malignant Ancient Ones, as if They could pause from their everlasting dreams to wreak a wrath on mankind.'"

"Carter?" asked Luna, "Who is Carter?"

"He was one of the very few who could use the Silver Key to open the Ultimate Gate, beyond which is Yog-Sothoth," Melissa explained, "So that bit I read to you at first means that Yog-Sothoth controls reality, because he is continuous with it, and thus is continuous with the tears. He is the key, the gate, and the guardian of the gate, hence key, gate, and guardian are all aspects or manifestations of Yog-Sothoth. But to get to the gate or guardian, one must first have the Silver Key. I have no idea where it is now."

"Then let's go," urged Luna, already turning to go.

"Wait. I need to make a call first." The girl picked up what the Lunatacs assumed was a type of audio-only communications relay. She typed in a code, waited a few seconds, then said, "Hi, it's me. Y'know, I was right all along about the fabric of reality tearing. I've got Princess Cecilia and Sir Alan Coppolino here, but I'm only going with them for a short time. Wait, here." She handed the phone to Alluro.

Mildly confused, Alluro asked, "Hello? And my name most certainly is not Alan Coppolino. I am..."

Melissa snatched the phone back. "My ship's come in. Gotta go." She replaced the headset, grabbed a few things, then followed Luna and Amok into Skytomb.

Alluro wasn't terribly surprised that when he closed the door, then opened it again, it opened into his workshop. Melissa was still with them, looking terribly interested in everything, and occasionally muttering that she wished she had a camera. On the bridge, the Lunatacs filled the girl in on what dealings they'd had with the Old Ones before. When it was finished she said, "Take me to Mumm-ra."

Melissa had wanted to confront the undead sorcerer on her own, but the Lunatacs decided that was stupid, and accompanied her. She stepped up to the sarcophagus and knocked. The Lunatacs, who knew better, stood back a ways. Mumm-ra opened the casket with a satisfying creak, and found himself looking directly into the eyes of a young human female. With a smile she said, "That is not dead which can eternal lie..." She leaned forward so their noses almost touched. "Have you found the Yellow Sign?"

The effect was surprising. Mumm-ra flung a withered arm out, as if to shove the girl away, but she had already stepped back. "Begone from me!" ordered the sorcerer, "I have nothing for you, creature of Carcosa!"

"Fine," she said, "How about the Silver Key?"

Mumm-ra's fury when he realized he'd been tricked was great. "You are a student of the ancient lore?" he growled. "You take it too lightly."

"I read a lot of Lovecraftainia, if that's what you mean. Now then, the Key?"

"I haven't got it. It was lost when the arch-dreamer in Zkauba's body fled through the Clock. Perhaps de Marigny had it, but it is lost now."

"Unfortunate." She thought, then asked, "Will one of these rips lead to Yog-Sothoth?"

Mumm-ra laughed then, an unpleasant sound at best. "So, you wish to stop the Great Merging? Even if you found the Lurker at the Threshold, you, a mortal, have nothing to offer him."

"You have no idea."

The research sorceress sat fuming, trying to figure out where the fabled Silver Key could be found. Luna was re-reading the section on Yog-Sothoth that was read to her in Melissa's universe. An idea occurred to her. "Melissa, you called Yog-Sothoth the Lurker at the Threshold. You also said he was continuous with reality." The human nodded slowly. "It also says, 'Not in the spaces we know, but between them...' Which means that Yog-Sothoth, while continuous with reality, isn't a part of it."

Knave said, "Of course! Any fissure will do, provided you go through its... side? We know the realities, but the tears are two-dimensional."

"You would need to go though its third side," finished Alluro. "But how? As Knave stated, there is no third dimension."

"Could either of you use your psychic powers to widen the tear?" asked Melissa. "No, Knave's power would be more attuned to this sort of thing..."

"Maybe."

"Good enough."

They went back to the tear in the kitchen, simply because they knew where it was. Fortunately, the kitchen in the other reality was empty. Luna decided that life was currently weird enough without demon hunters.

Knave focused on the so thin as to be non-existent side of the tear. He wasn't sure exactly what he was doing, and was quite surprised when he saw it expand a little.

Melissa came over. "This should be enough," she said, inserting long nails into the crack. Moving her arms out caused the side-tear to open like pulling apart the sheets of two-ply Kleenex. There was something there, though it was only gray mist.

And then she was gone.

Being a - as Mumm-ra put it - student of the ancient lore, Melissa knew what to expect. She was not alone in the mist. Thousands, millions of aspects of her were there. Melissa as a child, Melissa as an old woman, her ancestors down her maternal line, her daughters to be. Trans-telluric versions from ancient pasts and unseeable futures crowded the space between space. Unlike Carter of old, Melissa had already come to grips with her many names and many faces, so an extra billion didn't really faze her.

And then he was there, the Beyond One, Lurker at the Threshold, Yog-Sothoth. And in his presence the other facets were as nothing, and the sorceress could ignore them.

She could feel the puzzlement flow from the massive conglomeration of bubbles that was Yog-Sothoth. It radiated, But how did you get here?

Melissa thought, It is unimportant. You must stop the tears in reality. The other Old Ones will be freed, but you will die.

I cannot die. I am Yog-Sothoth.

You have no place in natural reality. Only your children who have part of the natural universe in them can survive it. You are the Lurker at the Threshold. You do not live in any reality, but between all of them. If the realities merge, there will be no in between for you to live in. You will be destroyed. The Old Ones deceive you when they say you can be freed. They act out of their own selfishness.

Then all was silence.

Then Yog-Sothoth said, Yes.

In his room in Skytomb, Alluro awoke. The hypnotist shook his head a couple times. He dreamed. It was very strange. There were these holes in the air, and this girl from another universe... His hand hurt, but he couldn't think of what the two-centimetre gash could have come from.

Unable to sleep, Alluro pulled a robe on over his nightclothes, stuffed something in one pocket, and went to the bridge. It was empty. He went to a work station and checked the sensor logs for the last two months.

The sensors had been recently altered to detect interdimensional tears.

He pulled the book from the robe's pocket. The overall colour was green, with a zombieish thing reaching up. The words on the front read:

. More Masterpieces

. of the Macabre

Alluro put the book back. His first impulse was to drop it in a lake or bury it somewhere, but decided instead to simply lock it away.

Just in case the owner ever returned for it.

Luna: Well that was exceedingly weird.