The aberration was getting annoyed. The hard, grey rubble that had before blocked the entrance to the cave was now nothing but rocks scattered across the entire floor. He did not anticipate that something, so otherwise reliable, was so pathetic when it came to insects. It lifted a particulary large rock, and watched it disintegrate in the air in front of it. He had no use for tools which fell before something so insignificant as mere cantrips.

The aberration turned to its ruined lair. The cave, what would have a perfect place to get away from those filthy insects, ordinarily serene had mostly been destroyed. The Oak table it had crafted along with its comfy sleeping spot ablaze. A bipedal insectoid, in a pool of its own blood, lay at his feet. An Umber Hulk, an amusing toy imported from Oghthok in the Underdark. Its attempts to artificially confuse it from within its cage were amusing to no end. Perhaps the most amusing thought from this mess was the irony of the Umber Hulk. In death, it had achieved its goal. The aberration was confused. After it had escaped, the Umber Hulk had no reason to return. Perhaps it was hunting for those insects.

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It didnt matter. It never did when they stopped moving.

It was going to sleep this off. Today had been busy, and after a nap, he would sort it all out.

Rip......

Tear.....

Eviscerate....

The aberration dreamt of the umber hulk, its mandibles peeled off, its exoskeleton, torn away. It spoke in a raspy voice, and those confusing eyes now played host to black pits.

How useless it is in the end.....

The flesh is weak... the soul is strong..... one is but a dead weight to true power....

No insect could ever hope to match one who has forsaken his flesh and blood in the pursuit of true power.....

Tools..... that's all flesh and blood ever were for the soul......

Are you a tool......?

When the aberration awoke, it was not the same.