She Doesn't Want to Embrace the Stars

[Cthulhu + no cp + suspense] The universe I wrote for me is digesting me into a ray of its rainbow light. The "cosmic tears" sent by my father are a trap, a curse, and my only way to survive. When those unspeakable colors began to sing in my veins, and when the pursuers called me a "specimen to be recovered," I finally understood that He was not calling me, but was warning all mankind. I had to find absolute darkness in what he called the "Crystal of Light." It must be done before oneself can completely shine and become part of the color of the stars. You must hold on to this revolver with three bullets left, and this box of inhibitors at the expense of memory, to pass through this world that has been gradually covered with sweet colors and is tempting to sink. Being assimilated, they say, is bliss. But my father's last message burned under every inch of mutated skin: "Run, Ivy. Before you try to hug it... Run!"