Polaris.

They'd forgotten the name of this place time and again. Something about it had once mystified the creature; it was not so beautiful now, even with the many lights. Perhaps it was illumination that had always kept the creature away? It was safe in the dark. It could hide there, unseen, forgotten - it could hide and it could watch as all the things unfolded. So it had, and would continue to do.

They were no friends to it.
They had killed it, before.
They had brought it back — and it was... unsure of how to think about that.

But the lights prevailed.

It hobbled its way alongside where the generator sat lodged within the rock. The machinations made odd sounds; and it, curious, pressed an ear to the silvered surface of the generator wall to give a listen. It wondered — does this have a heart? But nothing sounded so rhythmic.

As the creature pulled away, it saw the dark smudge of its ink-blot reflection. The blur of muddy gold upon it's body — a spark where it's eyes sat within a round face, giant, red, alive.

It saw itself, and screeched such an unholy sound that the walls of Polaris seemed to tremble, for it had forgotten it's own face.