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Into the void

The mass of orbs ripples in delight. "Have you enjoyed yourself, Summoner? It has been a most delightful experience for us. All of us. Many of us."

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One iridescent orb detaches itself from the mass and floats to you. You stare at it, confused. If you hadn't know where it had come from, you might have thought it was friendly and cute.

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"Should you find your experience not as delightful as you thought, read half of your book. I shall consume the other half for you so that you retain your projected points."

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The orb bounces toward you and nuzzles up against your cheek. You are sufficiently freaked out, but... it's hard to be afraid of something that seems innocent and loving.

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Yog-Sothoth's "hand" pushes you toward the wall of light again, and you brace yourself for the gut-wrenching impact of before. It hurts, but not as much as before. It almost feels like your soul got stuffed back into your body.

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"You should look forward to something," Yog-Sothoth says. "Especially if you come across a disappointing book."

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Read an award-winning book (any award)

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The hand that carries you keeps pushing you through space, and the little orb floats alongside you like a loyal companion. You're not sure where you're going, but you are moving. It's more than you can say about any of the other terrifying creatures you've come across...

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Yog-Sothoth stops and gently places you on something black and goopy. It kind of looks like a lava lamp the way oily blobs seem to stretch and bend up from the solid ground you stand on. The hand retreats and you are alone again, with only the eyeball and the orb as your companions.

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Curious (and bored), you walk over to a glob of black goo that is jiggling around. The orb follows you, and it does not try to stop you when you take a finger and lightly touch the goop. It isn't your brightest moment, but if this adventure has taught you anything, you just need to try to move forward, even if it seems like a bad idea.

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The black goop freezes for a moment, then it all shoots up into the air. Left behind is a sea of books. The goo above you turns into words:

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Which of these is NOT a creature H.P. Lovecraft wrote about?

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