The Blind Monk of the World of Cthulhu

Tentacles hidden in the shadows, Absurd alchemy of flesh and blood, crazy murmur forbidden knowledge Potion system Extraordinary one, When the houses stand up and form non-Euclidean patterns, when the streets ooze mucus and turn into guts, when the familiar and unknown, the weak and the powerful, keep growing eyes, mouths, heads, screaming, twisting crazily, and finally turn into a pile of rotten flesh that can only multiply. Beg to live, or die. Convert, or fight. Everything is necessary and must be experienced. We are just insects. There are always beings from above who will pass by and trample us to death on a whim. But bugs also have dignity, and struggle will always exist.