Hydroid Prime

Fear is the greatest of faith. While our immortal vines have left us distant from our baser selves, consider our subjects. Those who gaze upon our cloud-swept towers with simmering, violent envy. They hold still the old fears.

Depth and darkness. The windless embrace.

We will give to fear a form, and yet none. A vague hydra, a lode monstrosity, surging from the unfathomable. Reminding them who their gods are.


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