“I am N’zari, destroyer of worlds!”

The small voice squeaks from the centre of the pentagram, the sentence punctuated by a tentacle slapping weakly on the concrete floor.

You smile to yourself, tuck the sterilised petri dish into your labcoat pocket, switch off the ring of LED ‘candles’, and dispose of the test subject.

“I am Il’goneth-”

The speech is cut short by the dull thud of a cleaver. In short order the tentacles are removed, cut into lengths, and dropped onto the conveyor belt. The rest is scraped down the disposal chute. The petri dish is placed on the trolley for reuse, and the next dish slides automatically into place. The ring of lights blinks, the sulphur flares, and the ritual begins anew.