- Front
- WoCr
- MWD
- Lantern
- BPLG
- HCC
- JZ
- SBP
- TTD
- InGO
- TDWAR
- TR
- Null SEA
- NullS Re1
- NextSlide
- BTS
- GateHum
- FOTGM
- SWID
- TBCDNE
- SIBC
- TET
- OMOHTMI
- MtU
- PPoPM
- HW22
- MSE
- Itherqil
- HRGD
- LCWO
- DemonsGate
- ITIIP
- Conti Notes
- CR-Mod
- SfU
- SfU-SB
- TCtA
- BaaT
- FoW
- IGO
- FNTP
- GiSo
- Tied
- N-LR
- RBC
- RoDS
What is the function of a crater? To show that there was indeed an explosion.
Mechanic Wizard Doctor
The following is a reconstruction from several religious texts. The fact that the story comes from multiple sources shows narrows the room for interpretation. The text was restricted but not classified as heretical by both involved religious groups.
Before time there was a [God/Society/State]. In its realm order was kept by [Guards/Servants]. These [Guards/Servants] were a team of three. The [mechanic/builder], the [wizard/mind] and the [doctor/grower]. The guards hunted down what ills the state and its people. Where there was damage the guards came to make order. What could not be fixed was destroyed. Many a guard walked the world and there was order.
Than one wizard of the guard went [defective/confused/sick]. knowing its fate, to ether return to [unthinking/serving] or [death/replacement] the wizard turned on the mechanic and the doctor. The [mind/madness] of the wizard spread to the mechanic and the doctor. Unwilling to sacrifice there [friend /the wizard] and be destroyed as incomplete afterwards, the whole guard rebelled and began to strike down other guards, using the knowledge of [defects/sickness] they had acquired in there service. Weakened by there attack and overrun by defects that were no longer held at bay, the [God/State] died.
The wizard gave the mechanic and the doctor the corps of the old world, to build it a new, while the wizard followed the remnants of the god to its outer bounds, to keep what had survived at bay.
The doctor and the mechanic formed the world, but without the wizard quickly turned on each other and there servants were once again in a bad [order/system].
The wizard and his guard returned only to find the world in turmoil, torn by the war of the two former allies. As foe to non the wizard approached both, but as foe to both he leaved unwilling to renounce the other. The wizard and his guard, learned in the war against the remnants of the dead god turned on his old friends and managed to put a halt to there fighting, to leave only there servants. These servants felt defended by there mutual foe and without there masters keeping them from it they united one last time to cast the wizard into a prison, fit to hold him, now leaving his servants too to wander the new world, where no remnants of the old world persisted, to make a new world.
While the followers of the the mechanic and the doctor managed to coalesce and persist, the remnants of the wizard wandered afar, back to there old front line. Leaving not much of the wizard behind. In time the story of the wizard stopped being told to the young, as it was seen as shameful that the two enemies had once united against a common foe. Today the doors to the prison of the wizard still stands shut, but forgotten. The only reason both groups still tell the tale at all, is to hold there followers from opening a gate, hoping to find there masters behind it, only to free the wizard instead. For the wizard wares flesh and metal, while being nether.
Why is everybody here bloody mind controlled?
A good question to ask when entering a room with several people starring blankly into nothing.
It is mind control of sorts that take away the ability to remember made decisions. The lantern does not stop you to make decisions, it makes you forget the result of the decision, restarting the deciding process. Faced with the lantern only actions that are truly without alternative will be taken.
Set someone before food and two forks under the lantern, that person will not be able to eat until there is no longer a decision between forks only eating and hunger.
The lantern is a six sided tube with a transparent top and bottom, the six walls of the lantern are made of aluminum and have an opaque paper window. Written on these paper windows are symbols consistent with the script of the fractal music box.
The script reads:
Never Answered Never Decided Never Solved
Depending on how a light exits the lantern its affect varies:
light source within lantern: all decision processes are effectively stopped by removing the conclusion as soon as it is reached.
light source behind lantern: A made decision is immediately followed by another question the first has decision has raised
light source below lantern: Decisions are no longer invoked. If something is in doubt it will be ignored as unsolvable.
light source above lantern: A lot of different decisions are requested at once overwhelming the human capability to solve all proposed decisions. Even with an everything yes or everything no approach to decisions the amount emitting from the lantern are to many. Decisions requested by the lantern concern highly complex equations with insufficient information. It is believed that a being with proper mental multi-threading can beat out the lantern in this case. Usually subjects are to overwhelmed to extract the meaning of the decisions they made.
Oh, you found my magnifying glass. I wondered what you would do with it. Has anyone looked into a mirror through it?
Breaking point Laura G.
10 Sep 2019
Laura was surprised. That usually did not happen based on external impulses. She could see the patterns and surprise was normally only found at the end of a logic chain.
"Such a shame. Your potential is underutilized."
Miller had told her that strange things were the natural consequence of free thought, but this was absurd. She had never invented a person into existence. Her next thought was that this was one of the serpents that might come for her.
Her mind saw the pattern before she could do the natural thing and call for help, That person had bypassed Base 5 security. How else would he be here? Was he here? He was ether powerful enough not to care for his detection or he was backed by someone that did not care.
"I could have intercepted you earlier. The Insurgency had a brilliant mind to form from practically nothing and they somehow did not put you towards your full potential. Tell me, could you create a rock so heavy you could not lift it and than lift it?"
Laura could not advert her mind from the pattern. She could and could. Why was she currently not a force of nature? Why was her assignment to create something that could bind down gods? Why was she not currently taught everything about all magic in the universe. She had bend the universe through her knowledge and her sight for patterns before.
"Garbage in, garbage out."
Her mind saw what the man in white mend to say. Had she been given the full access to insurgency knowledge or just a few books about magic more powerful than toys she could have won the insurgency the world by now.
"How long do you usually take to think about a way to win? How long have you been thinking?"
Again her mind was faster than her morals and training to look away from the more dangerous fractals of her logic. She usually took months to crack something thought impossible. She had been stuck with the same assignments for what felt like years. Why? Her mind was slower or time was no longer fast enough. There were clouds in her mind. Why was she still in a dirty shack? She knew how proper laboratories looked.
"If the world ends, how would you try to get more time?"
Stretch, dilute, substitute. There were ways to do that with time. The Insurgency would probably do it too. They would do it for even less than the end of the world.
"Think about it in terms of non-linear time."
That made it obvious. Loop. She remembered filling out papers, receiving new, blank ones and she would think and fill the paper out.
As if to answer her question the creature in the white suit dropped a shaft of papers before her feet. Page 255, page 225, page 225. Minor differences in all of them, but all in her handwriting, all for the same challenge. Forged? But why? Turn her against the insurgency? Her mind was calculating all the things she thought she knew about her work and the enemy in the room. That thing could maybe make up undeniable evidence on a whim, but the only way to falsify the evidence was to deny the pattern.
"I broke your stasis. No matter how hard you try to go back to sleep, the world of the living has you back."
For the first time she considered to be dreaming the event. Her mind immediately went to dissect the pattern. Things not being real was easier to explain than an unknown reality bender in her inadequate room.
The person in the white suit with the red tie and white cylinder hat did not look right. It was like the image melted before her eyes. When ever her mind tried to fix the pattern of what she was seeing the pattern expanded like a fractal. That was not something that happens with real visual input. That was a sign of a thought in her head spinning out of control.
The paper on the walls, her books, the buildings and the person. All patterns bleat together like a fabric of colors unraveling. This was ALL in her head.
She went back to her thoughts of her project, she would finish it.
What felt like minutes later she had an formula that was complete and non-interactive to all logic. Something that was stronger than the interference, something real. The palace of the dream collapsed around the formula until her only fought was the pattern of her first Anchor.
"Welcome in the future."
25. April 2022
Laura Grace opened her eyes in a run down hospital room, covered in dust and cobwebs. Her eyes saw the IV-Bag and the liquid it injected into her arm and she pulled herself of the contraption. At the end stood what looked like a field agent in a black suit, a short reddish beard and short blond hair. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. He should be about 28.
He lifted a phone said calmly: "Breaking Point reactivated. Welcome back." He gave her a smile. "The name is Seth. I am with the Chaos Insurgency, Cell Z-7126. You have some catching up to do."
Laura was still trying to understand how the patterns fitted together. This world at least did not meld when probed with her mind anchor. "Nice to meet you. What is going on?"
Hermit Crab Curse
"Some things die, something else may pick up there pieces."
A neutralized anomaly is sometimes considered dead. The invisible puppeteer no longer pulls the strings of the anomalous and the object becomes normal.
Now imagine something else picks up the strings. The puppeteer has not returned but the puppet moves again. The anomaly may never again function like it ones had, but at least some of it functions again.
Simple things may come back fully. A watch with broken gears may once again be used to measure time, but it will no longer be accurate and 1 second on the repossessed clock might be 2.65 seconds on a real clock.
A human brought back might or might not have a pulse, might or might not see or feel and speak in what sounds like a foreign language but no linguist can decipher there gibberish.
The repossessed things sometimes glow faintly red in the dark and humans under the anomaly will have red eyes if they do not try hard to not show them.
There is a mind and a power source behind them all. It is ether not very intelligent or a very good lair, without regard for the things it possess.
The symbol that summons it looks something like a crab and for that it was given its name.
Some things even the crab can not fix or simply does not try.
The crab seems to have no loyalty. If the symbol calls it to an item it does not care who called it.
Our specialists think there is a mind behind this, but they have not found that mind cooperative. A thing that can understand and mimic the functions of things humanities best could not figure out, it should know some language.
Maybe the crab is actually more like water, running through oil pipes. As long as the pipes are there, liquid will flow and follow physics, but the physics for oil and water do not fully align.
Using the hermit crab is like filling a diesel engine with 40% fire whisky. It might do something, but if the engine did no longer work correct with diesel than it will never work with 60% water in the tank. It is a miracle that it can even do what we know it to be capable off.
JeeZee
agent JZ
Do not let her out of her container. She will dismember you and you are going to like it will she does it.
You will not die from the procedure and survive in pieces. These pieces will heal shut eventually, making simple reassembly impossible. While the dismemberment wont kill, blood poisoning still will.
She can not control herself. If she is contained and incapable of doing what she likes, she is eye-candy and a great therapist.
If she is field-deployed orgy like flesh-piles are usually the result.
Hazmat suits with the same runes as her container can hold of her effect for a while, but only for as long as the runes have the right distance from another. Lose an arm and the barrier comes down, you suddenly will no longer mind your ripping.
Best to just take her out from at least 110 meters away with a standard bullet. Her passive attraction field is limited at 10 meters but if she actively extends it she can reach 102 meters.
She can work barehanded, but she can use a variety of bladed weapons and firearms. She is usually paired with a defensive agent and a mid-/long-range support team.
She has been very useful in deployments with low resistance, like mass witness disposal.
Sand Bar Plain
In 2002 a plain went down over the desert.
When the rescue found them 2 days later the remains of passengers and crew were completely dried.
The corpses were recovered but the plane left to sink into the dunes.
From the 155 missing persons 154 were recovered.
Investigation at 155 ended with the foundation, closing the case.
155 was a Insurgency agent by the name of Crewerl Eimsfeld (Agent Blood Shade)
Blood Shade had an ability that qualified him for the label of vampire.
His power was draining blood from others to extend his own life. While Blood Shade was juiced up he was practically immortal. In a situation like a plain crash he would have no qualm about draining 2 others to survive even the most violent of of crashes. He most definitely survived and was the reason for the anomalous corpses.
After the civilians had left the search the foundation closed the area. Until the Insurgency actually got boots on the ground the agent was considered lost. To the insurgencys surprise the foundation had set up a containment area. In hopes to find some magical scar the agent left on sight we broke in.
Well, blood shade became an immortal landlord. The foundation was unable to locate his physical form but his spirit was fully juiced and absolutely un-damageable, but bound to the place. The place not the plane.
The foundation had taken the plain fully apart and had screened each part, but what ever blood shade is bound to is not in the metal. Blood shade refused cooperation with the foundation and had drained several of there grunts.
Blood shade revealed to the insurgency that he was still bound to his own bones, but these bones were by now fused with the sand. In his death he managed to be to immortal to die and to frail to survive. His ability actually sucked the others dry in an attempt to fully return to life. Blood shade than repurposed the plane wreck to build an approximation of a bar and played the board ghost for the foundation. To insurgency agents he revealed that his power was actually getting stronger, still trying to resurrect a body that was by now splintered to the wind.
Blood shade assured us that he had his power under control, but would set up a situation in which the foundation would have to continue feeding him, otherwise "his magic" would manifest in random desert villages. By 2006 blood shade was able to project his power over the entire desert and by 2010 reached the tips of Italy.
Blood shades ability will mummify its victims and add there life force to the ghost in the plane crash bar, that does not have the upper limit of the living agent of how much juice he can swallow.
We intercepted foundation communication that suggests they are unaware of Blood shades control over his ability and his continued involvement in insurgency operations. They however detected that the concentration of life in the area of the bar could heal. If blood shade decides to share, he can give you pure life force. That stuff ether gets you away from deaths door or gives you a lot of cancer fast. Blood shade is making deals with the foundation in exchange for magical knowledge to give the some of his stash. The foundation has as of now not figured out that the insurgency collects this data.
The real value of blood shade despite his mass mummification ability over large distances is the ability of his juice to reanimate the dead. Every corps we smuggled in we got back with a pulse.
Blood shade has degraded somewhat through the isolation but he grew to become a quite good magician. One day he told us that his ability had found his body, but by now he had swallowed so much life that thew recreation and resulting life overflow would turn him into a bomb with unknown but by 2013 possibly global effects.
In 2015 contact with blood shade was lost and foundation documents classified him as neutralized. Where his stash of life energy is now is unknown.
Through the desert
Strange. I struggle through the desert sand. When did this land turn into a desert? Sure, rain was sparse for a while, but I think that I would recall all the farmland turning into dunes. Would I? I do no longer know where I am. Has it been days, months already? It can not be. I would have died of thirst first. It is strange how my throat stopped aching, how I can no longer sweat. How my delirium lessened over time. War I not till walking, I would think myself dead. Maybe I have become a spirit, destined to lead astray wanderers, like those y mother used to warn me about. Through sand and heat I march northward. Even if everything is wrong, northward lies the ocean. It is impossible to go north forever and not reach the ocean. I look up as the sudden shape emerges. A pillar displaying gliphs I can not read, nor pictures I could attempt to deceiver. Have I crossed the border into a naibouring land? I was so far from the border and only went north. I should have not been able to cross a boarder. A faint hum seems to seround the pillar. A sound like a mosquito, always flying never landing. I decide to check around the pillar, for signs that a living soul visited this monument a short while back. As my hands and feed move the sand, I uncover a blue stone all around the pillar. The color shines like a freshly painted relief in a temple, before the winds and sun dry the paint, but the shine does not fade. The pillar seems to react to me uncovering its blue floor. I hear voices, as if coming from the pillar. I would have noticed if anyone where approaching. The pillar begins to hum a faint melody. I can not quite make it out, but I believe to recognize it from my home. I to start to hum the tune. The pillar as if remembering the tune starts to hum with me. I sit down at the pillars blue floor, humming with it. Perhaps I have become lonely, to find companionship in a rock of strange colors, in a distant land. I still hear the voices talking as I and the pillar hum. As if the voices to started to remember my language I can now make out words. Success, spirit, old. There are so many strange words, they sound like my people would call things had no one told them its proper name. The voices are happy to hear me. One wandering spirit to the next I suppose.
From my surroundings I see them form, man in strange attire, holding dark lumps like they were their weapons. They have not raised them, so I may not be their enemy. I recall my manners and my education. My Greek was, according to my teachers, never good enough to travel, but when I ask myself whom I would expect to find in the north, this would be my best bet.
The dried corps under the Insurgency signal beacon that had just formed from dessert sand, stopped humming. It spoke a language that the computer needed to interpret, twice. What ever that thing was, how damaged its mind might be, it spook mikanean Greek and when it realized our non understanding of it, it cursed in a form of ancient agyption. That guarantied the new agent the name that the others had floated around since first contact. Agent "humming mummy", he was.
In gelion
"So, you finally decided to let me out." Meta was watching his newest creation very carefully. "Friends do not let friends stay dead. if they can do anything about it." It was not the first time he had worked around a spark to give it a body, but usually that spark was not actively trying to usurp his past, contained in a shell that would eat you if you let it.
"You packaged me in white noise? Why?"
"You are a…" Meta considered the word, throw out the words anomaly, contagion and parasite and finally spoke "… difficult person to remember correctly."
The girl on Metas white workbench looked around 17 but she had the quality few others would see, no pinned down description to her. It was something she had in common with her benefactor.
"You do realize that, since you build me to spec, I might just die on you or off myself? Since the disease was never specified and we are the same species, you might just have created yet another thing that might kill you."
"(There was precisely one time scratch that I do not know that, uncertain past and all that) I would have been human enough for even the metaphor that humans see as memory to be close to accurate."
"I see. (So, did we sink a ship or not?)"
"We might not be an exact match. First love and all that (When by ship you mean a force of nature, than probably yes.)"
"So about the whole dying problem?"
"Fixed that. Your depression is now optional as well. It became part of you as time went on, I do not know how much was you and how much was mental illness."
"How much time (time, not sentences) do you remember? 17 years for a human can mean quite a lot for someone like us."
Meta was calculating how much memory capacity had this project eaten before he contained it in white noise?
"I believe we might have spend a lot of time together. Your memory eating ability can really accelerate at generating memories when given an utter void to work with."
The girl giggled. It came natural to her, it was not a simulation of a simulation.
"You actually don't know and want to keep it that way to not commit to a number? Fine by me." Meta clenched his fist. She was, what, 3 minutes back from the living and back in high spirits and she was already starting to take jabs at him (and he actually cared). Meta clenched down on the whole emotions business. That was a problem he had fixed some time ago.
The girl looked around the workshop. "How many times have you started and just could not get me here?"
"5 or 6 times." (2 or 3 immediately after he had remembered and 3 later to get something right)
"Say, have you given me a reason as to why I would not cling to life with all I had?"
"No, but I guess you did not want to believe things could have been better. You maybe murdered yourself over it, remember?"
"So, you no longer suspect the one that gave you my spark to have un-literally murdered me?"
"Characters sometimes die to tell their stories. I do not think he pushed you of a cliff, he just might have made you do it."
"So, no quest for the hero to avenge their fallen love?"
Meta was really struggling to keep his stern outwards appearance, he might have made her to much like the childhood friend he probably never had. She would know how to get under his skin without him faulting her for it.
"I guess the hero is dead by now. Do you remember the face of the person you claimed to be your hero? I did not insert myself in your past. One of my attempts to get you here had that idea. I resurrect you right on the beach. She is still around. You to might even be the same person."
Meta was calculating whether this girl was the one he resurrected at the beach in attempt 2 or 3.
"I just checked. That attempt was never committed 'to paper'. You did sit next to my corpse for a while and walked my streets, back in 'emotional core', but that time you just pulled me back, nahh, I don't think that one exists."
Meta was practically seeing her reading the file behind her eyes. (She did have eyes? Details.)
"Not an answer to my question."
"Well, no. The spark does not describe him. Those that remember being him are self-insert fan-fiction." (Meta flinched just a tiny bit) "All in all, it could have been a lot of people. With your 'it is a metaphor' implementation it might not even be a person. I might have never been a person."
"So, I am not fleshed out at all. Nor tech-ed out, nor out-wizard." Meta was making a few last adjustments to her blue dress with the white buttons. "So now you dress me up? I always thought you were more of an un-dresser." Meta did remember a lot of times he had helped her undress. The his mind was trying to wrangle with the concept of what sex would actually mean for entities like them. Meta was desperately trying to figure out how this fit into a past of a being like him. It does not make sense. (That was sexy. Thinks not making sense). Meta actually blushed, quite a feet considering he did not have blood and his current body not even was made to simulate blood.
"What have I brought upon myself?"
"I guess you faithfully rebuild an old friend of yours, stuck with the manual and now your ohhhh, so vast 'cosmic knowledge' fails you when talking to a girl. Never took you for the cute type."
Metas face hardened back into being [REDACTED].
"I can still scrap you, try again later."
The girl leaped from the work bench, created a doorway and was gone with the words:
"Catch me than."
Meta knew for a fact that he could scrap her right here right now. Instead he sighted and chased after HER (He actually had not settled on a name yet).
The gate dropped him in the middle of an ocean that orbited a gas giant. Meta decided to not dignify this by swimming to shore instead just appearing there. He could see the girl with the blue dress lean over on the ground poking something.
Meta knew where they were, when they were and that SHE just helped up the girl that had laid on the beach.
A file of "Bygone Jocundity" has been corrupted. The recording no longer ends with a dead body, but with a girl in a blue dress helping another girl to stand up from the beach while a figure in a white siut with a few pixels of red indicating a tie is watching. Subjects report the girl in the blue dress to be the love interests twin sister that "made a donation to save her life". The girl in the blue dress shows the same properties as the love interest. In the fabricated memories she appears only bristly near the end with the explanation being that she was "in a far away place when her parents died and she was only recently found and reunited with her family". The ending has changed the anomaly and now subjects exposed to the anomaly believe to have upon a time been happily married to the love interest until they suddenly found themselves in their current life. Subjects claim that they want to return home and if the insurgency premises them to help them, subjects become very cooperative. Non-corrupted versions of the anomaly still exist and continue to be used for there original purpose. The corrupted file and its copies were recovered by the Department for Internal Affairs and are pending approval to be mentioned to the item file. The DIA has since refused comment on the progress of the investigation into the corruption, citing case ID 55432110.
Addendum C (Joy Beyond)
Application
Joy Beyond is an agent employed in the Insurgency Teal Devision as a memetic reversal remedy against exposure to Wh### N####. As she has shown to withstand the effects of [REDACTED] she currently resides over the item and associated files. The effects of the two anomalies appear evenly matched. As such Memories induced by Joy Beyond can offset the memory degradation of [REDACTED]. It is currently being explored how to extend her effect onto other objects. It has been shown that implanted memories, when set within the time frame of the first 17 years of an affected subject and concerning events surrounding Agent Joy's and the subjects past, persist longer than what would be expected considering the speed at which [REDACTED] degrades memories and induces a vegetative state.
Joy Beyond also is employed as a translator of multiple (currently counting 12, more are likely) languages.
Joy Beyond can control whether or not she appears on recordings. These recordings share the uncertainty of her forged documents.
The specific familiarity Agent Joy fabricates as well as her ability to fool non-biological sensors lends her to infiltration, but her widespread effect makes it impossible to evade notice, by even civilian forces. Her being remembered as dead made her unsuited for interrogation or indoctrination.
Report
Joy Beyond is an agent employed in the Insurgency Teal Devision.
Upon first contact with Joy Beyond her effect will cause a sense of familiarity that eventually coalesces into a false set of memories about her. Her effect is persistent and spikes ever 3:01 minutes for 14 seconds. Everyone remembers her as a love of there youth that died under unclear circumstances, whose death was classified as a suicide. These memories are structurally similar in nature, leading to multiple people remembering similar pasts after exposure. The similarities with "Bygone Jocundity" are undeniable and it is currently unknown how the two anomalies are linked.
Upon inspection her paperwork seem to have been forged by someone unsung anomalous equipment, because even when observed by multiple people simultaneously these people could not agree on the content of the document or even the language they were field in. This effect also extends to her body and facial features, with her only consistency being the blue dress and white buttons. Not even the amount of buttons or the shade of blue were agreed upon in a multiple observer test. She has so far been able to communicate with every native speaker of 12 languages.
Joy has resisted psychological classification, as she seems to be able to manually toggle symptoms and behaviors akin to depression. Whether she is actually depressed and just height functioning or she can expertly simulate the sickness is of now indeterminate.
She is described as generally pleasant, but other observations about her vary from subject to subject. Some people describe being around her as if being with an ex after a unnatural breakup a long time ago. When asked whether she was a ghost, the answer was affected by her memory field and not agreed upon between subjects. Some even reported seeing her vanishing into thin air before reappearing, sticking her hand through a persons face or floating. The current stand of the Insurgency is that Joy Beyond is indeed a person and not a mass-hallucination, on account of her being able to exist and act upon the world when not observed and locked in a room without outside interference.
The dark wizards ascension ritual
book taken of a dead cultist/research assistant
Recipe for a material with a pink and green glow.
This material has to be consumed for a month, along with a diet of external inputs.
This lack of input can be enforced via being locked in a small building without anything interesting.
The anomalous substance will set of regular bursts of creativity and madness.
During this stage the subject undergoing the ritual will begin to display magical abilities: Levitation, Creation of objects and divination concerning the past.
At this stage the ritual can still be safely aborted. The anomalous material filters out of the subjects body after exposure to external stimuli. Anything interesting that is not generated by the subject will cause the imbued creativity and magic to fade. Do to the short span of control over their magic during this stage, subjects that enter the isolation, primed with knowledge of other anomalies will most likely divine the location of other artifacts. Sadly unpredictable nature of the substance and its magic spurts make it impossible to recall the details of visions for longer than a few minutes.
Documents produced by subjects under the influence sadly are unusable since they seem to no longer fully comprehend languages the subjects speak. Even when confronted with their own writing after the ritual was aborted subjects were unable to deceiver them. Other subjects under the influence and subjects that attempted the ritual multiple times were also unable to deceiver these notes. Beings that completed the ritual were however able to read these documents. These beings were however not inclined to share their insight.
After the diet and isolation has been sustained subjects will turn their magic against themself and start to alter themselves. In this stage the ritual can no longer be aborted as a subjects body begins to resemble a pile of random objects, melted together. There objects sometimes do include biological components, but inorganic forms are more common. To stop the ritual at this stage the sensoric isolation has to be broken, which will cause the pile of objects to try to reattain human shape, before the magical ability wares off. This is usually fatal. In one cases the result of the transformation will be alive by magical means, including a pumping quartz heart, a brain made from liquid silver, and appendages formed from piano keys, bound together with strings made from rainbow colored hair later identified as equestrian. Gregory Feramill survived contact with our reality and the loss of his magic for 5 hours, before his brain cooled and solidified. He was able to communicate with taps of his fingers in Morse until his brain hardened out. His account was oddly coherent, and he managed to retain his sanity if not his common sense. He dictated a ritual by which means his mind may be re-ankered to this world after his failed ritual.
It was found by our experts that the magic underlying was sound, but the sacrifice of the island of Nantucket made it impractical. This sacrifice could be substituted, but Faramills documentation did not mention how.
If subjects remain undisturbed until they begin to create there own magical food/sustenance, they will finally assent to what the text call, the form of the dark magician. Dark magicians are constructs that reshape themself to match an aspect in their context. Most magicians take the form of inanimate objects until contacted. Only when not contacted to reveal themselves are the objects stable. Most of these objects can be used as anomalies, but there use is usually specific to certain circumstances that would not arise by random chance.
These objects, once called out as being a dark magician than transform into humanoid black hooded figures. The inside of their cloaks appear to be a mist of metallic colors and colorful lights.
Most magicians view humans as disposable and boring, preferring to converse with anomalies. The magicians are apparently able to communicate with some aspects of an item they call "the ideal" and the "the execution". Some magicians monologue during their study of other anomalies. Some speak with humans by means of psychic link. Dark wizards seem to only remain on earth for a few hours after they are no longer objects, before they disintegrate. One wizard that spoke with an insurgency agent stated that dark wizards were drawn to a strong pulse of magic that was interesting beyond human comprehension and that until that mystery was solved, dark magicians would flock to it, be consumed by the terror at its center, but never regret their approach. The magician recalled his past live, but described it as "made by his thoughts". The wizard attempted to give the insurgency answers to their questions, but said, the interesting thing would constantly call him, to his doom, in pursuit of knowledge no one but the flawed wizard could reveal. The flawed wizard was mentioned as an inspiration for the original ritual text, within the initial book. The magician willing to talk, Lara Terrans, could only withstand the pull from the "center of originality" for 2 days before she went to "see it only once", never to return.
TimesReach (The running solution) [A result of a Times Beach documentation]
A lot of farms down south had water problems this year. The rivers and creeks were dry and most wells were no longer deep enough to reach ground water. The government tried its best to get water, the townsfolk of Times Reach as well as other small communities made sure of that, but politicians do not make rain, do not redirect rivers that need to flow to someplace bigger and more important. The communities were on the edge of becoming a ghost region. Not town, region. The experts said agriculture was no longer feasible in their dry neck of the woods. The last time when the region had woods was in 1922, before the beetles.
The towns, not willing to give up got themself into another mess. Desparation caught the eye of scavanger and one such scavenger extended his claw as if to help. First the normal vultures, then something else. Their town was approached by several firms that wanted to truck water to it, but these were quickly dismissed. They would not have enough. Why continue living here when the land you worked on for all your life could no longer pay the bills? The people of Times Reach were ready to pick up and leave. They had no hope of selling their land for a good price, but someone was actually buying.
The company called itself "Tention: New Wave Solutions". TNWS was like a lifeline for those of them that were drowning in dust and debt. The company bought a couple of farms and began to set up new infrastructure. While most of the townsfolk were farmers, some found gainful employment by helping TNWS build its pipes and pumps. They were not sure what this strange company wanted to pump out to those barren fields, but they did not care. TNWS needed pipes, they needed jobs. TNWS needed silos and tanks and odd things painted on old sheds. The people happily obliged.
Some of the more christian folks eventually smelled something fishy. At a town meeting they told the others that they were setting up something unholy. Some of the stuff TNWS had made the townsfolk draw was actually witchcraft stuff, but it was what kept the lights on. TNWS was literally keeping the towns together, with pipes and money. A few people left, but a few days later work-crews were laying pipes on the land they sought to protect. The people silently agreed that while the doubters acted high and mighty, they eventually sold out to get the money to move.
Some of them should have noticed that they had dug the graves of people they once called neighbors, dumped their corpses in and than closed the holes. Some of them litterally did just that. Jenkins dug some holes, Flanders put some oddly shaped sacks in said holes and Milly oversaw Jerry pour concrete in these holes. Jacky than placed some of the symbols on the concrete.
Than one day Agent Brandy from TNWS called the big meeting. The townsfolk happily build him the stage and decorated the dead trees of the park. On that day TNWS turned the pipes on. Agent Brandy told us that a new age was starting and than he started spraying the fields. It was not water. It smelt metallic. They started watering their fields, said people could allow them to build pipes to their land too or just use the runoff, but for now they would stand back and let their work speak for itself.
The work of TNWS and the effort of the desperate spoke pretty loud and a lot of good people died because they called them on it. The plants that came out of the ground were black, rigid and cold to the touch. The people noticed the towns getting colder. Some farmers watered normal crops with the runoff, just to see what would happen. The resulting wheat looked normal, until you cut it open. From inside these plants looked like they were rotten. Harry Cromwel actually ate some of his crop. He was fine, but his blood turned black as did his lips and gums. He was fine. The doc gave him the clear and TNWS said the discoloration was to be expected. He could still dance and play a fiddle and took the whole thing with humor.
The plants grew to the height of corn and everyone thought soon there would be a harvest. They could make just a bit more money and leave, but the things kept on growing. In mid summer temperatures around Times Reach were down to winter temperatures and it was still getting colder. Some people actually banded together, to pressure their government to demand an explanation from Tention, but they got nothing but pale or a flight with no return to some place far away. Eventually people called the FEDs. They took one look at Times Reach and its problem, via photos and videos and the next day people were there, boxing the region and its people in. No one in or out. The walls were build fast. The people on the walls called the situation an "out of control spill" while insisting that people within their containment walls were in no danger, only not allowed to leave. The people on the wall cut the phone lines and than the electricity. It was getting colder and the people only got food from the soldiers that guarded the walls they were stuck inside off. The man on the wall looked at the people as if they were already dead. When they saw black lip Harry they actually took him away. The plants were already tall as trees, when some farmers decided that enough was enough and began to cut them down. The soldiers actually came into the walls to stop them. Saying things like "destabilized system" and "containment breach". That was when the towns got a name for these people. They called themself SCP Foundation. Times Reach and the surrounding towns, its people and the new black forest were a numbered file for them. A situation the FEDs wanted swept under the rug. The filename: Town of Zombies. To the people on the wall the region was already dead. Some people started to believe it to. Everyone had been in contact with the black water ever since they found it drinkable and water no longer passed through the wall or out of the ground. It was just getting colder, the black trees getting larger and the metallic stuff kept flowing from somewhere no one could find. The towns do not know what TNWS brought upon them, but with an old Latin schoolbook and a few people that had Latin once upon a time, mostly the town doctor and the priest, they actually got a few phrases of the things they had written for TNWS so long ago translated. Words about a sea of death, a hole to the faithful and a gift of great harvest bestowed upon the willing. People just wanted out of this cold zone. Some suspected that their thermometers actually stopped working altogether as they show normal summer heat while people almost expect their last water-bottles to freeze shut. Someone that looked like they worked for the SCP Foundation gave the people a working phone and a number. By now they just want out. They offered all the stuff Tention left here to the people on the phone. They offered samples of the liquid and plants. They were talking to the Chaos Insurgency. The Chaos insurgency had no reason to help, as they were the ones behind TNWS. Times Reach was filed away as a test successfully concluded and soon the Foundation had cleaned all traces of it from the map. The official report stated that a drought had made the area unlivable. This was true. The region was doomed long before the Insurgency went to select a test area for something they had found.
Something related
Especially the wizard.
Thou flesh may grow fast and machines may build quick, it is magic that makes his army thick.
~ Forbidden saying in the COTBG and Cults of Flesh
A painted carving, painted over in black:
The thing in a white suit and cylinder hat with red tie, overlooking pits that spat forth monsters of flesh, machines that clad the spawns of hell in metal. The monsters ascending to the sky, the monsters eaten by an enemy depicted as a cloud of all colors and than the same best rising after destruction, with flesh and metal replaced by black of form and purpose.
The text under the image said: The fight is over, but my army will not desolve. Here be one place where the darkness may rest, until called upon again.
Item: | Null Sea |
Size: | >25.120.000.000 Liter (> 200 KM diameter and > 200 M depth) |
Type: | Location |
Living: | Yes, extended definition |
Sentient: | No |
Kill Grade: | V |
Required Wear/Weaponry | medical procedure NS-03, bones |
Location: | Base Six (Vault Terminus), variable |
Reported Anomaly: | optional -what IS the anomaly? Consult the Terms page |
Usage
Personnel at risk of coming into contact with Null Sea Component 2 should be equipped with the necessary parts to perform medical procedure NS-03. The procedure is also to be carried out when the contact was voluntarily or ordered. Sampels of Component 2 are only to be brought into the field in completely filled containers or syringes.
Medical (Living)
In dosages of 10 ML to 2 L the item may be used in medical procedures such as:
- severe bleeding
- amputation
- breathing complications
- most other forms of injury not involving the head or the mind
If applied directly to the wound or even introduced to the system via ingestion or injection, the anomaly can significantly (97%) increase surviveability of insured persons. Subjects under the influence of the anomaly may begin to suffer a specific form of cancer after there body has been returned to normal health and the anomaly is not extracted.
The anomaly can be extracted by exposing it a "dead-er system", while the subject it is currently attached to is no longer at risk of dying without the items influence. The easiest way to do this expose the liquid to bones (mostly animal-bones) or dead plant matter. Most prepared food also seems to count as a "dead-er system" thou the ways in which the anomaly seeks to heal food may cause injury to persons surrounding that process.
Medical (Dead)
It has been shown that the anomaly can successfully reverse death, with the only caveat being its inability to restore the mind from a damaged brain. As brains tend to degrade rapidly following oxygen deprivation (3 minutes) successful reanimation with an intact mind has only been possible under laboratory conditions. It appears that the anomaly currently does not operate as inscriptions in Component 4 seem to indicate. If the inscriptions are to be trusted the item was once able to reconstruct the brain and the mind. Rediscovery of the items ability to completely resurrect the dead is a priority concern for current item tests.
The item was able to successfully reanimate a mummy dated to 2800 BC. While the mind has not returned, the body could be rebuild using known medicine to a state where 85% of component 2 could be extracted without subject "M-22" collapsing back into death.
EM-Radiation Shield
The item may be used as a shield against elector magnetic radiation. While most application centers on anomaly containment, 20 liquid filled mobile shields are currently being tested.
Technological
The item seems to be able to interact favorably with some machines, mostly those imitating living organisms as there primary function. The item does not naturally consider these targets as "dead-er systems", but seems to fix gears, springs and chains if no other dead system is currently at hand. The item also seems to fix flying and swimming contraptions. Most biological systems that near such fixes while not shielded will count as a "dead-er system", do to the nature of constant cell death. This will unravel the technical fix.
Storage
While Component 4 is able to house human life it was determined that the site was unsuited for an off-world base, do to it being unknown whether the component 4 might be liable to sink into component 1. Room there is therefor used for the storage of non essential goods. A camp was set up to further explore component 1.
Mass Scale Weapon
While the item seems to wish to preserve live, the creatures it creates are fully capable of killing or wounding others. This most often occurs during an attempt to imitate behaviors such as social drive and eating. This will most likely result in the creation of "dead-er systems" that might draw the anomaly into themself. Do to the ability of the affected to open temporary instances of Component 3 the component will not run out as it spreads over more "dead systems". While the item was last deployed in mass during a test to feed component 2 sample data of working brains (see addendum 3) the anomaly reached a fatality count of ~20000. Monitoring reveled that during deployment only 4 instances of temporary component 3 were observed. Since the amount of component 2 in the area was highly concentrated, the anomaly might not have called in backup and the only reason these 4 gateways were opened are linked to human curiosity upon finding the runes in their memory. If the effect had not been contained by the Foundation the effect might have spread quicker and more remote portals would have been opened.
In tests it was possible to open multiple gateways of larger size. If such gateways were placed upon a large river the anomaly could spread over a vast region fairly quickly. It is assumed that the effects on the planet would be quit drastic and the amount of partially resurrected animals alone might cause major death tools.
Report
The null sea (Component 0) is a sea (Component 1) of black liquid (Component 2) that can be reached via traveling through a stone archway (Component 3) into a stone temple (Component 4).
Component 1 (Overview)
The null sea seams to be an extraterrestrial body of liquid located between the [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] star cluster, within the milky way. First thought to be extra-dimensional its existence within normal space was confirmed using common astrology. The atmosphere seems to be consistent with earths atmosphere. Precise dating using CO2 content in the air puts its last contact with earth at 2017. No other land other than the temple seems to reside on this body of liquid. Several drones were deployed as well as a manned aircraft. The sea seems to stretch for at least 200 KM in all directions from the temple. Drones deployed to find the bottom of the sea reached 200 meters of dept before the liquid crushed the probe. Currents within the sea seem to be life as all later attempts to measure the depth of the anomaly where prevented before they reached the depth of the first probe.
Component 2 (Main/Liquid)
The black liquid comprising the null sea has resisted all chemical analysis. Tests have shown that it has a density of 1,44 kg/L. It is unaffected by electric waves as it seems to absorb 95% of all electromagnetic fields it contacts, making it highly insulating. When the liquid comes into contact with a living/dead (extended definition) system, it will try to complete said system. In places where water is lacking, the liquid will act as if it was water. It is also capable to supply energy and to substitute oxygen. Should minerals be lacking it will act like the missing minerals. The liquid seems to harden as needed. In desert areas the liquid will mimic plants and eventually whole animals. The imitation is imperfect and almost always leaves the affected system looking unnatural, as the liquid only seems to have a basic concept of what a living system is supposed to be. Do to its absorption of electromagnetic fields it is unable to form nerves or conduct photosynthesis. Strangely electromagnetic impulses seem to travel through the substance as pressure differences. These pressure differences also seem to fully replace bio-electronically controlled muscle activity in affected organisms. The liquid is to normal organisms highly cancerous, as cells that would normally die at the end of there life are kept alive by the liquid. This cancer usually would cause a swift death of the organism, but the liquid seems to prevent that. If provided with enough liquid, the living organism will eventually become completely substituted with the liquid. The liquid was able to fend of starvation and even reverse death of a mummy dated to 2800 BC.
In cases where cell damage is severe enough subjects can not return from death with an intact mind. If the liquid replaces the brain in a corps, the corps will reanimate, but be only capable of restricted movement. Resurrected organisms seem to display a crude understanding of the concept of eating and social instincts common within their species. They however have no concept of what can and can not be eaten. This can pose a danger to other members in their chosen social circle as affected subjects might attempt to eat them. Eventually subjects might turn into slimy mounts of kept alive bio-matter and Component 2. In this stage the liquid might create tentacle like appendages to keep movement possible. At this stage infected subjects seem to no longer have any resemble to their previous form and seem only interested in feeding and reproduction via distribution Component 2.
The liquid stays in non-dead tissues and if it is not in sufficient amounts taken into the organism to be fatal as a carcinogen it will remain inactive until it detects massive cell-death within its host. It will than rush to keep the body alive, almost like a second specialized immune system. It however does not differentiate between cell death do to age or cell death do to infection. If the liquid mixes with bacteria or viruses, they become ineffective in penetrating cells, but also incapable of dying do to the immune response.
Human subjects containing the liquid will begin to know a series of runes that wen drawn replicate the effect of the archway. These secondary archways always open under the waterline of Component 1. Depending on the space between runes the size of the archway can vary. Depending on the nature of the created runes they or there placement might not survive contact with large amounts of Component 2, destroying the secondary archway.
Humans under the influence of the liquid describe its smell as metallic. No aerosols of Component 2 are known as the liquid seems to not have a gaseous form and seems to not remain in a mist form even when pushed into said form beforehand.
When plantlike organisms made out of Component 2 are damaged via uprooting or felling, they might gain the ability to move freely, by growing tentacle like limbs. It is believed that this is the result of Component 2s inability to conceive of a plant not somewhat connected to the ground. It therefor begins treating the plantlike organism as an animal and tries to heal it in that direction. Such plants appear to be driven by there plantlike instinct to spread its seeds far. The construct will therefor most likely try to leave its current position by any means necessary.
Component 3 (Entry/Archway)
The stone archway with carved in runes resides in Vault Terminus on LV 9. All runes on the archway are rigged with explosives, triggering on a fixed timer should they not be reset. The timer is currently set to 3 hours. The timers can be reset "remotely and automatically" or manually. Should the destruction of the runes/archway prove ineffective to close the archway, Vault Terminus is build on a weakened point in the structure of LV 10 (Hellfire Incinerator). Vault Terminus can be expected to breach the floor to LV 10 before the anomaly can break the "Gates of Terminus" (Floodgates 0 to 4). It is unknown at this time whether LV 10 can destroy the archway and the sea, but its connection to another plane may allow it to completely drain the sea without compromising the base.
These security measures are necessary as it is unknown what currently keeps Component 4 afloat. Should component 4 sink into Component 1 and the inscriptions in Component 4 are accurate that the archway was build after something else opened the path and the archway would not close upon the destruction and the runes of the stone, the item might trigger an end of the world scenario, if it remains open while under the waterline of Component 1.
The archway entered Insurgency possession in 2020 when it was found as item 6-45532811-B in the [REDACTED] Museum of Modern Art, a Insurgency subcontractor for the storage of neutralized anomalies. The records show that it was deposited there as the remains of an item named "Resurrection Springs". No record of "Resurrection Springs" was found in Insurgency databases, with the only reference to it being a document mentioning a failed deployment of the anomaly in cooperation with some redacted entity in 2016. Another object 6-45532811-A is a papyrus depicting man in modern construction worker attire carving the runes found on the archway into stones. While the papyrus was damaged and treated to look old, it was dated to 2016. The art-style on the papyrus is consisted with carvings and paintings in Component 4. the style seems to imitate ancient Egyptian art, while also depicting modern weaponry and construction equipment.
Component 4 (Base Camp/Temple)
The island/building that can be reached through Component 3 is a building imitating an Egyptian temple. The walls appear to be made from white granite, limestone and steel reinforce concrete. The walls are covered with pictures and carvings. These decorations are written in a pictograph script. The pictograph script is identical to the one found on the Fractal Music Box. Several walls in the temple needed to be painted black to hide classified information.
Copper pipes run through the complex giving it the bases for a normal water and sewage system. The temple is able to house up to 50 persons and provides sleep and living quarters for this many. 17 of these quarters must be classified as tombs as they hold black liquid cocoons that seem to house human remains. These cocoons sometimes twitch and make gurgling and moaning sounds. Since the rooms were sealed using stone bricks but otherwise appear to be normal living quarters, it is unknown whether these quarters show an experiment gone wrong or a deliberate punishment.
Addendum 1 (A selection of depictions of interest)
A full section of the temple is dedicated to writings about the process of "Flickering Lights" and how the "light" does not vanish, but is instead sacrificed to a being waiting to be wakened by a sufficient sacrifice of energy.
A desert containing blue filing cabinets and a gigantic clock that is sinking into the sand. The focus of the image is a black puddle being surrounded by several measuring instruments and persons dressed like members of the Item Acquisition Ops, and a black liquid figure emerging from the pool. The people surrounding the pool seem surprised by this.
A depiction of a girl seemingly asleep at a desk in a school like environment. The depiction resembles Astollia. The text next to the picture talks about a white knight of sand that set the sleeping witch free after she attempted to end the world indoors. In him doing so the beast that held her learned to fear.
A describing of an event in which "the constructor" will return to sink Component 4 and bring its liquid over the world.
The event is described as a great rescue after life on earth was killed in a "red flood". The picture on the wall shows a red tree with a bright light behind it.
Tiny white humanoids assisting in the construction of the temple under the direction of workers in a red overalls. The depiction shows 61 individual white figures. The 5 larger workers in overalls were drawn with white smooth skin, no facial features and with mitten like hands.
A team of Insurgence hanging heads down encased in a colorful crystal. They seem to look happily at something with red glowing eyes. Fish appear to be flying around them.
A ritual that seems to imply burials in Component 1 with rocks tied to corpses to hold them down while the sea resurrects them. The text reads that once it has deed on enough examples it will spit out the dead fully restored. The text mentions drowning without dying until the sea awakens. It is unknown how many living humans the see must consume before its resurrection properties reach their full potential. See Addendum 3.
Addendum 2 (Medical procedure NS-03)
This procedure may be used to combat a contamination with Component 2.
Step two and three can be scaled dependent on the amount of contamination.
- As the item seems to be triggered by signs of decay a subject can ingest one dosage of Life is Pain Painkillers, 500 ml Sour Wine and 300 ml of priest activated SO2H2 to counteract the immediate symptoms.
- A wound is to be inflicted via means of multiple cuts or skinning of an appropriate size. This can be done with a sharp object or the subjects teeth. Component 2 will rush to heal the injuries.
- After most of Component 2 has been drained into the wounded appendage/-es it/they can be amputated and disposed of by throwing them into Component 1.
- Step 2 and 3 may be repeated until a subject is no longer contaminated.
- Treatment for lost limbs may be administered as appropriate.
Addendum 3 (Field-test summery)
- covered as a civilian firm "Tention: New Wave Solutions" the insurgency approached communities struggling as a consequence of ongoing drought.
- These communities were offered money to construct a system to deliver Component 2 to their barren fields.
- After minor attempts at stopping this were dealt with.
- Runes of the "Witching Well" were combined with runes recovered from Component 4 to temporarily create a similar effect to "Witching Well" proper.
- A temporary gateway was than created to transport Component 2 into the pipes.
- Plants indeed started to sprout and the communities were exposed to Component 2.
- As there were no major injuries and the temporary "Witching Well" seemed to hold the cancer at bay the process developed as planned.
- Some cases of cannibalism occurred, but Component 2 was quick to cover them up.
- By the time the Foundation noticed and closed of the parameter Component 2 was exposed to 20567 alive humans.
- Some of them had died while contaminated without them noticing, showing that it was possible to create working resurrections.
- As the temporary effects of "Witching Well" lessened more and more people began suffering from undieing cells.
- After the first 203 confirmed cases of mindless mounts of animated biomass were reported the Insurgency cleaned the entire area with unknown means.
- This sadly means that the knowledge about intact humans that Component 2 learned during deployment is lost to us.
- Result: Resurrection was stable for much longer than previously. Amount of mindless animated biomass was down by 91%.
- A repeat of the experiment is suggested.
Item: | Null Sea |
Size: | >25.120.000.000 Liter (> 200 KM diameter and > 200 M depth) |
Type: | Location |
Living: | Yes, extended definition |
Sentient: | No |
Kill Grade: | V |
Required Wear/Weaponry | medical procedure NS-03, bones |
Location: | Base Six (Vault Terminus), variable |
Reported Anomaly: | optional -what IS the anomaly? Consult the Terms page |
Usage
Personnel at risk of coming into contact with Null Sea Component 2 should be equipped with the necessary parts to perform medical procedure NS-03. The procedure is also to be carried out when the contact was voluntarily or ordered. Samples of Component 2 are only to be brought into the field in completely filled containers or syringes.
Medical (Living)
In dosages of 10 ML to 2 L the item may be used in medical procedures such as:
- severe bleeding
- amputation
- breathing complications
- most other forms of injury not involving the head or the mind
If applied directly to the wound or even introduced to the system via ingestion or injection, the anomaly can significantly (97%) increase surviveability of insured persons. Subjects under the influence of the anomaly may begin to suffer a specific form of cancer after there body has been returned to normal health and the anomaly is not extracted.
The anomaly can be extracted by exposing it a "dead-er system", while the subject it is currently attached to is no longer at risk of dying without the items influence. The easiest way to do this expose the liquid to bones (mostly animal-bones) or dead plant matter. Most prepared food also seems to count as a "dead-er system" thou the ways in which the anomaly seeks to heal food may cause injury to persons surrounding that process.
Medical (Dead)
It has been shown that the anomaly can successfully reverse death, with the only caveat being its inability to restore the mind from a damaged brain. As brains tend to degrade rapidly after death successful reanimation with an intact mind has only been possible under laboratory conditions It appears that the anomaly currently does not operate as inscriptions in Component 4 seem to indicate. If the inscriptions are to be trusted the item was once able to reconstruct the brain and the mind. Rediscovery of the items ability to completely resurrect the dead is a priority concern for current item tests.
The item was able to successfully reanimate a mummy dated to 3000 BC. While the mind has not returned, the body could be rebuild using known medicine to a state where 85% of component 2 could be extracted without subject "M-22" collapsing back into death.
EM-Radiation Shield
The item may be used as a shield against elector magnetic radiation. The electromagnetic properties do not seem to actually repel the field but absorb it, while simultaneously not strengthening/weakening the field on the not shielded side. This has complicated ongoing superconductor research. While most current applications centers on anomaly containment, 20 liquid filled mobile shields are currently being tested.
Technological
The item seems to be able to interact favorably with some machines, mostly those imitating living organisms as there primary function. The item does not naturally consider these targets as "dead-er systems", but seems to fix gears, springs and chains if no other dead system is currently at hand. The item also seems to fix flying and swimming contraptions. Most biological systems that near such fixes while not shielded will count as a "dead-er system", do to the nature of constant cell death. This will unravel the technical fix.
Storage
While Component 4 is able to house human life it was determined that the site was unsuited for an off-world base, do to it being unknown whether the component 4 might be liable to sink into component 1. Room there is therefor used for the storage of non essential goods. A camp was set up to further explore component 1.
Mass Scale Weapon
While the item seems to wish to preserve live, the creatures it creates are fully capable of killing or wounding others. This most often occurs during an attempt to imitate behaviors such as social drive and eating. This will most likely result in the creation of "dead-er systems" that might draw the anomaly into themself. Do to the ability of the affected to open temporary instances of Component 3 the component will not run out as it spreads over more "dead systems". While the item was last deployed in mass during a test to feed component 2 sample data of working brains (see addendum 3) the anomaly reached a fatality count of ~20000. Monitoring reveled that during deployment only 4 instances of temporary component 3 were observed. Since the amount of component 2 in the area was highly concentrated, the anomaly might not have called in backup and the only reason these 4 gateways were opened are linked to human curiosity upon finding the runes in their memory. If the effect had not been contained by the Foundation the effect might have spread quicker and more remote portals would have been opened.
In tests it was possible to open multiple gateways of larger size. If such gateways were placed upon a large river the anomaly could spread over a vast region fairly quickly. It is assumed that the effects on the planet would be quit drastic and the amount of partially resurrected animals alone might cause major death tools.
The stone archway with carved in runes resides in Vault Terminus on LV 9. All runes on the archway are rigged with explosives, triggering on a fixed timer should they not be reset. The timer is currently set to 3 hours. The timers can be reset "remotely and automatically" or manually. Should the destruction of the runes/archway prove ineffective to close the archway, Vault Terminus is build on a weakened point in the structure of LV 10 (Hellfire Incinerator). Vault Terminus can be expected to breach the floor to LV 10 before the anomaly can break the "Gates of Terminus" (Floodgates 0 to 4). It is unknown at this time whether LV 10 can destroy the archway and the sea, but its connection to another plane may allow it to completely drain the sea without compromising the base.
These security measures are necessary as it is unknown what currently keeps Component 4 afloat. Should component 4 sink into Component 1 and the inscriptions in Component 4 are accurate that the archway was build after something else opened the path and the archway would not close upon the destruction and the runes of the stone, the item might trigger an end of the world scenario, if it remains open while under the waterline of Component 1.
Report
The null sea (Component 0) is a sea (Component 1) of black liquid (Component 2) that can be reached via traveling through a stone archway (Component 3) into a stone temple (Component 4).
Component 1 (Overview)
The null sea seams to be an extraterrestrial body of liquid located between the [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] star cluster, within the milky way. First thought to be extra-dimensional its existence within normal space was confirmed using common astronomy. The atmosphere seems to be consistent with an earth like atmosphere. Precise dating using CO2 content in the air puts its last contact with earth at 2017. No other land other than the temple seems to reside on this body of liquid. Several drones were deployed as well as a manned aircraft. The sea seems to stretch for at least 200 KM in all directions from the temple. Drones deployed to find the bottom of the sea reached 200 meters of dept before the liquid crushed the probe. Currents within the sea seem to be alive as all later attempts to measure the depth of the anomaly where prevented before they reached the depth of the first probe.
Component 2 (Main/Liquid)
The black liquid comprising the null sea has resisted all chemical analysis. Tests have shown that it has a density of 1,44 kg/L. It is unaffected by electric waves as it seems to absorb 95% of all electromagnetic fields it contacts, making it highly insulating. When the liquid comes into contact with a living/dead (extended definition) system, it will try to complete said system. In places where water is lacking, the liquid will act as if it was water. It is also capable to supply energy and to substitute oxygen. Should minerals be lacking it will act like the missing minerals. The liquid seems to harden as needed. In desert areas the liquid will mimic plants and eventually whole animals. The imitation is imperfect and almost always leaves the affected system looking unnatural, as the liquid only seems to have a basic concept of what a living system is supposed to be. Do to its absorption of electromagnetic fields it is unable to form nerves or conduct photosynthesis. Strangely electromagnetic impulses seem to travel through the substance as pressure differences. These pressure differences also seem to fully replace bio-electronically controlled muscle activity in affected organisms. The liquid is to normal organisms highly cancerous, as cells that would normally die at the end of there life are kept alive by the liquid. This cancer usually would cause a swift death of the organism, but the liquid seems to prevent that. If provided with enough liquid, the living organism will eventually become completely substituted with the liquid. The liquid was able to fend of starvation and even reverse death of a mummy dated to 2800 BC.
In cases where cell damage is severe enough subjects can not return from death with an intact mind. If the liquid replaces the brain in a corps, the corps will reanimate, but be only capable of restricted movement. Resurrected organisms seem to display a crude understanding of the concept of eating and social instincts common within their species. They however have no concept of what can and can not be eaten. This can pose a danger to other members in their chosen social circle as affected subjects might attempt to eat them. Eventually subjects might turn into slimy mounts of kept alive bio-matter and Component 2. In this stage the liquid might create tentacle like appendages to keep movement possible. At this stage infected subjects seem to no longer have any resemble to their previous form and seem only interested in feeding and reproduction via distribution Component 2.
The liquid stays in non-dead tissues and if it is not in sufficient amounts taken into the organism to be fatal as a carcinogen it will remain inactive until it detects massive cell-death within its host. It will than rush to keep the body alive, almost like a second specialized immune system. It however does not differentiate between cell death do to age or cell death do to infection. If the liquid mixes with bacteria or viruses, they become ineffective in penetrating cells, but also incapable of dying do to the immune response.
Human subjects containing the liquid will begin to know a series of runes that wen drawn replicate the effect of the archway. These secondary archways always open under the waterline of Component 1. Depending on the space between runes the size of the archway can vary. Depending on the nature of the created runes they or there placement might not survive contact with large amounts of Component 2, destroying the secondary archway.
Humans under the influence of the liquid describe its smell as metallic. No aerosols of Component 2 are known as the liquid seems to not have a gaseous form and seems to not remain in a mist form even when pushed into said form beforehand.
When plantlike organisms made out of Component 2 are damaged via uprooting or felling, they might gain the ability to move freely, by growing tentacle like limbs. It is believed that this is the result of Component 2s inability to conceive of a plant not somewhat connected to the ground. It therefor begins treating the plantlike organism as an animal and tries to heal it in that direction. Such plants appear to be driven by there plantlike instinct to spread its seeds far. The construct will therefor most likely try to leave its current position by any means necessary.
Component 3 (Entry/Archway)
The archway entered Insurgency possession in 2020 when it was found as item 6-45532811-B in the [REDACTED] Museum of Modern Art, a Insurgency subcontractor for the storage of neutralized anomalies. The records show that it was deposited there as the remains of an item named "Resurrection Springs". No record of "Resurrection Springs" was found in Insurgency databases, with the only reference to it being a document mentioning a failed deployment of the anomaly in cooperation with some redacted entity in 2016. Another object 6-45532811-A is a papyrus depicting man in modern construction worker attire carving the runes found on the archway into stones. While the papyrus was damaged and treated to look old, it was dated to 2016. The art-style on the papyrus is consisted with carvings and paintings in Component 4. the style seems to imitate ancient Egyptian art, while also depicting modern weaponry and construction equipment.
Component 4 (Base Camp/Temple)
The island/building that can be reached through Component 3 is a building imitating an Egyptian temple. The walls appear to be made from white granite, limestone and steel reinforce concrete. The walls are covered with pictures and carvings. These decorations are written in a pictograph script. The pictograph script is identical to the one found on the Fractal Music Box. Several walls in the temple needed to be plastered over to hide classified information.
Copper pipes run through the complex giving it the bases for a normal water and sewage system. The temple is able to house up to 50 persons and provides sleep and living quarters for this many. 17 of these quarters must be classified as tombs as they hold black liquid cocoons that seem to house human remains. These cocoons sometimes twitch and make gurgling and moaning sounds. Since the rooms were sealed using stone bricks but otherwise appear to be normal living quarters, it is unknown whether these quarters show an experiment gone wrong or a deliberate punishment.
Addendum 1 (A selection of depictions of interest [Declassified])
A full section of the temple is dedicated to writings about the process of "Flickering Lights" and how the "light" does not vanish, but is instead sacrificed to a being waiting to be wakened by a sufficient sacrifice of energy.
A depiction of a girl seemingly asleep at a desk in a school like environment. The depiction resembles Astollia. The text next to the picture talks about a white knight of sand that set the sleeping witch free after she attempted to end the world indoors. In him doing so the beast that held her learned to fear.
Tiny white humanoids assisting in the construction of the temple under the direction of workers in a red overalls. The depiction shows 61 individual white figures. The 5 larger workers in overalls were drawn with white smooth skin, no facial features and with mitten like hands.
A ritual that seems to imply burials in Component 1 with rocks tied to corpses to hold them down while the sea resurrects them. The text reads that once it has had enough examples it will spit out the dead fully restored. The text mentions drowning without dying until the sea awakens. It is unknown how many living humans the sea must consume before its resurrection properties reach their full potential, see Addendum 3. It is presumed that the sea contains several partly resurrected corpses. According to the inscription they might try to resurface to escape their drowning sensation.
Addendum 2 (Medical procedure NS-03)
This procedure may be used to combat a contamination with Component 2.
Step two and three can be scaled dependent on the amount of contamination.
- As the item seems to be triggered by signs of decay a subject can ingest one dosage of Life is Pain Painkillers, 500 ml Sour Wine and 300 ml of priest activated SO2H2 to counteract the immediate symptoms.
- A wound is to be inflicted via means of multiple cuts or skinning of an appropriate size. This can be done with a sharp object or the subjects teeth. Component 2 will rush to heal the injuries.
- After most of Component 2 has been drained into the wounded appendage/-es it/they can be amputated and disposed of by throwing them into Component 1.
- Step 2 and 3 may be repeated until a subject is no longer contaminated.
- Treatment for lost limbs may be administered as appropriate.
Addendum 3 (Field-test summery)
- covered as a civilian firm "Tention: New Wave Solutions" the insurgency approached communities struggling as a consequence of ongoing drought.
- These communities were offered money to construct a system to deliver Component 2 to their barren fields.
- After minor attempts at stopping this were dealt with.
- Runes of the "Witching Well" were combined with runes recovered from Component 4 to temporarily create a similar effect to "Witching Well" proper.
- A temporary gateway was than created to transport Component 2 into the pipes.
- Plants indeed started to sprout and the communities were exposed to Component 2.
- As there were no major injuries and the temporary "Witching Well" seemed to hold the cancer at bay the process developed as planned.
- Some cases of cannibalism occurred, but Component 2 was quick to cover them up.
- By the time the Foundation noticed and closed of the parameter Component 2 was exposed to 20567 alive humans.
- Some of them had died while contaminated without them noticing, showing that it was possible to create working resurrections.
- As the temporary effects of "Witching Well" lessened more and more people began suffering from undieing cells.
- After the first 203 confirmed cases of mindless mounts of animated biomass were reported the Insurgency cleaned the entire area with unknown means.
- This sadly means that the knowledge about intact humans that Component 2 learned during deployment is lost to us.
- Result: Resurrection was stable for much longer than previously. Amount of mindless animated biomass was down by 91%.
- A repeat of the experiment is suggested.
Addendum 4 ([REDACTED] Museum of Modern Art)
After the discovery of continued activity from another item that was stored as "neutralized" an investigation into the [REDACTED] Museum of Modern Art was conducted. It appears that the location has been compromised and used for storage by [REDACTED]. Several more anomaly which are considered "active" were recovered and moved to Storage Base "Wintergreen's Box". The inventory of "Wintergreen's Box" has been classified under "Coverup-RedSummer". The [REDACTED] Museum of Modern Art has been discontinued as an Insurgency storage operation as of August 2022. All properly documented neutralized anomalies were moved and all remaining parts of operation were sold to Cataclysm International.
"Next slide"
"What is this?"
"Do you think this is funny?"
"That is not my slide."
"Well, I guess that means he saw us."
"Why would he put that slide in there?"
"He probably wants to gauge our reaction."
"Was he actually part of these meetings or did he forge that photo?"
"Which part? Him in our midst or us all grinning like schoolboys after a won soccer match?"
"Let us just ignore this?"
"Agreed. Next Slide."
"I forge realty, you all should know."
"Did you say something?"
"I said: Very well. Next slide, please."
"If you say so."
Build to spec
Imagen you have a car. It has run for several years and now it has engine problems. You get the engine replaced. The shell is still the same but now it drives differently. The repair of the engine problems was to spec for your car model but not your car.
Than you go to that other mechanic, he listens to what your car used to be and you leave him to the engine. He gets the thing to sound and act like your old car. You expect new engine problems but they never arrive. You drive your car for years more, finally you let a normal mechanic look at it and not a your reconstruction specials. Suddenly the police grabs you and you are being interrogated. Than you are told that the motor in your car is definitely not human tec, it only looks like human tec for the untrained eye. Your replacement expert gave you a motor that was to your spec but not to spec of any other motor.
Imagen an old house. There are photos of how it used to looked before it fell into disrepair. You contract someone with an understanding for such things. He fixes the house back to its old state, before the rot. Than a few days later you find a newspaper stuck behind a cupboard. It is a fresh of the press day newsletter dated to 60 years ago. This thing was not in the photos, but the date of the photos and this newspaper are the same age. You remember having seen some old paper behind that cupboard when you and the specialist looked around before the repairs.
Imagen someone wrote up all necessary documentation to fake a person existed. They hire a actors for photos, forge school-grates and diplomas, even a personal log of phone calls that person used to have. In short, someone not suspecting a forgery would see a normal missing persons case. Than someone pays a large sum to a detective that can find everyone. 2 days later a person acting like described, remembering events and people that never existed shows up claiming to be that person. They slot into the life someone forged, has phone calls like they used to have, with people that were also made up. The actors are all accounted for, but there are new persons in the world. Persons that by the clues someone leaved know secretes that only a hand full of people on the planet should know. Than the people that know these things snatch the person of the street because something reminded them that this person was not in their inner circle before you set that persons specs into paper and than tipped off that detective.
Meta Wonderrat was humming while he scratched the runes into the rook with just his finger. The null sea was in place. His ally or foe was in place. It had been some time.
The runes he had placed here where almost a bridge to the puddle he had given the insurgency to play around with. The lake, the stream, the sea or even the other puddles were beyond the scope of the file.
A planet sized ocean was good enough to distract humans, not fight a war between beings that could be considered forces of nature. Meta carved the last few runes into his gateway. The gateway opened and black sand began to escape the desert. He had not forgotten what he was fighting site by side with. Meta was progress, the mind of the sea was preservation. Progress needed a point of origin. Not the empty nothingness of silence, not the all devouring chaos of Nevermetrix. During the war preservation had aligned against chaos, but it always also hatted progress. The arm of black dust followed a torso as preservation stepped out of the gate that connected this place to the black sandbox. Preservation did not have eyes yet, but it was starting to adapted to this new place. "You combined Astollia and Bygone Jocundity. A perfect memory of something alive. You could have just made me a new dimension. Why the school and memory games?" Preservation had matched Metas voice exactly. Quite the feet considering the nature of what it matched. Meta stopped humming. "You like things as they are, this is perhaps the most neutral ground that I can create without giving you over to dead silence of an empty realm." Meta started humming again. Preservation was not opposed to silence. If it was silent so the world should stay. Alive this world was, alive it would be. A memory this place was, so a memory it would be. Life was change, memory was change, so change they would stay. Change was not always progress, nor was it fixed. This place would actually count as neutral ground. "I want to know whether you would fight me to preserve more or let me be the new fixed thing unchanging." The black sand hardened. "You are rot, to be stopped. You are motion set on a course, encouraged to continue. I was made as a possible enemy to you. That I will stay." Meta hummed a few notes while regarded this being. "You have not decided yet. You will not decide as both answers will bring change." The black sand had perfectly arranged itself to look like a polished whole block of nature stone. "The best thing to preserve right now is not to play your game. By now I have seen the strings." Meta touched his red tie with the three yellow stripes. "The strings bind the silence. If the silence makes its move I know you would side with it." Meta hummed again. "Silence preserves. You have not yet tasted…" the Black sand shuddered, reveling that its pieces had not simply molten together. "You did taste of the nothing that does not preserve. Not the silence of eternity, but the silence of nothingness." Meta twitched. "The way to get there is painful, but total non existence is what you would want to preserve." The black sand man sat down on a school table, overthinking his alliance with silence. "A perfect state after destroying everything else. That is not pain. It is vile. Show me perfection and hide it behind everything I hate." Meta set down on a teacher desk and hummed a dew more notes before speaking. "You hate it as much as all chaos, than perfect order? That silence I will help you to fight." Met began to fade from the memory. His pressure leaving made more sand stream in beginning to re-swallow the black sandman. The memory growled, the life growled as the black sand began his work of fixing up this new toy. To make this thing right too.
Meta looked down at the film wheel all frames turning black as memory and being of flesh fought against the darkness of the mind of the null sea. When only darkness remained but the film did not crumble Meta placed it in a box and locked it. "Bygone Jocundity expands into unoccupied space of the mind, Astollia is wide. Fixing that school will keep him occupied for a while. The sea will remain mindless, endlessly distracted. He will finish eventually, but until than he will remain a memory, a fixed piece of the past." Meta hummed a tune while edging his warning onto the box in that pictograph scripted.
"Always broken always fixed, it binds the mind to look at it. The sea does not sleep, it flows in circles."
Meta hummed while placed the box on the shelf and moved out of the Cataclysm International [REDACTED] museum of Modern art.
Finger of the God Machine
Space is dark. Space is empty.
In the empty where no man sees,
in a place to vast to track.
In nothing hangs some guy,
some guy that got to close.
A white suit in the empty off space,
a guy that came to close.
You might think him dead,
but he is more than not.
To be dead you need to life at least once.
A shadow is the absence of light,
but here hangs in dark of space,
a white shadow of a guy in a suit.
A man of flesh he was not,
a man of machine he pretended to be.
In space no one hears the cry,
the ticking of gears,
the bleeding of a giant beast,
the storm that has finally cleaned through.
A man that could not be silent.
Gods should be giant, gods should be vast.
But man is not god and hammers are just tools,
they can not but obey the hand that swings.
Man or tool of gods?
But a hammer can split mans skull.
And the man once a tool killed god
and a corpse hunted him ever since.
Until the man in white found some folks,
folks he told a name,
that name would be his and his alone.
A war in space seldom heard,
many lives found and lost.
Many more to share his name,
many more that followed a ghost
of a hammer that killed a god.
The corps took his hammer and finally could rest,
but the hammer kept on swinging.
He fixed the world of man and stayed.
now in space a corps drifts, vast and large,
clad in a mans white suit.
His name we know, his tale he told us too.
A tool, a god, a man.
When the white suit calls,
there still twitches the finger of a god.
Follow the ghost, he'll get you home.
He is a devil to some,
a friend to some,
and he might just fix your light,
if you dare to look at the low,
because a hammer is a hammer too.
Silence not his friend,
flesh and machine could if they only knew.
He build the world and now swings free.
His body drifts through space,
for a hammer owns a twitching corps.
He is vast, he is small,
he is the finger of a god on earth,
here with his folks, from chaos to order,
cataclysm knows.
And silence fears the cry of hammer-blows.
Sugar Web in Darkness
Some places are hidden for a reason. Some are undocumented for a reason. Knowledge is useful by its importance, but how important can something be if it appears from nothing but is already explained?
In the first moment the forest might have looked normal.Driving past it on the road one would notice the white trunks, the pale leaves but might not care enough to stop the car. Those that do stop find a strange but satisfying answer. The trees are sticky and seem to be covered in a web. Maybe an invasive species of spider? But what prey could sustain a population to cover every tree and leave? With an uneasy feeling the traveler would leave the trees behind. Maybe call the forest service, if they were into things like nature preservation. Few people see the sticky web and decide to taste it. What they will find might be even scarier than the idea of a forest filled with spiders. The web is sweet. And suddenly the mind clouds. Like cotton candy on every branch and the mind losing its past. You can still turn back, but some forget to do so.
Into the sweet forest they are drawn, under pale leaves and nets of fine crystals.
The silence of the dark white forest draws on the traveler. The ground becomes white with webs, while sugar sticks to boots and clothes. Spikes and pillars of white crystal, placed with purpose in a dark forest and the only path forward is deeper in.
Cubes on four legs and strange wires run in the dark across the webs. Power flows through copper and aluminum wires, rubber as if from tiers insulating currents. Here and there a piece of front window and mirrors form solar panels. The light from above reaches the strange photovoltaic, and shine like pillars of light themself. There in the trees and the great machine sits someone talking to skeletons littered on the floor, encased in caramel. With four arms that end in talons and four legs much the same, sits in the dark a white spider that has dragon wings. Sits and talks with the dead that are encased in sugar.
All to willing to answer what it can the master of the web sits and listens to the wanderers. In a language understood by all the master of the web fixes those that came to seek out truth. With magic new weaved from knowledge and truth old he weaves new bodies new memories if the seekers so wish. They may leave there past here when they leave, heads filled with answers out of the dark sugar clad woods. For seeking knowledge is answered with knowledge. For weak flesh is replaced and weak minds repaired. You may leave broken if you so wish, but those that do not take the chance to be fixed might find themself lost in the woods for a few hours. The master in the web does not hide. You can meet him as often as you wish. For those that have found him can find him again. Those that venture into the dept will find a story and not death in a forest where there sits something to spite the story of the monster in the dark.
The burned city does not exist.
Have you ever wondered about why the Insurgency owns a burned city? A city with chard buildings, smoked out rubble, a selection of concrete skeletons in the middle of nowhere that is not on any map?
The official story says it was a foundation containment area we took over after what was in here got out. If you do not ask further, that is where the story ends.
Dig one layer deeper and ask "Why would we want to own a place like this?". There are problems with siting in a place the Foundation knows about. "Why would we want there cracked shell?". When the Insurgency first set out to make this place theirs, this was a closed shell. the Insurgency took over the Foundation posts one by one and than something went wrong. Here to can the story end.
"What did this city used to be?" is the question that gets you further. This was Base Zero, back in 1925. The Insurgency tricked the Foundation into restocking the Facility to keep what they thought was going on here at bay. It is unclear whether the thing the Foundation feared was ever in this City or the Insurgency faked that too. In 2014 the ruse went bust. A computer had Found enough discrepancies to launch a new investigation into something that was considered a solved "Save" problem. The Foundation leveled the city and its Insurgence in a few days. The insurgency mentions it in there files as "The Mass Edit". It is a reference to the many documents, personnel and anomalies lost during the fall of Base 0. The official story ends here.
To get the rest of it we need to look at things neither the Insurgency, Foundation or Cataclysm can confirm. A lot of things happened in 2016. One of which was the reemergence of Base 0. People started to remember this place. Files began to talk about it. Eventually we saw activity within Base 0. Candles unaffected by wind or rain started to appear every year on Halloween. Than we sighted the ghost and Base 0 was a prison once more. But this time too, it was a facade, for the only prisoner came and went as he pleased.
The rest of this stuff is even harder to find. I dug deeper into the Ghost. There is a reason we called him the Ghost of Base 6 when we first made a file. That file is gone. I looked even deeper and found the Archive. In there I than finally found the truth. Base 0 never existed. It is a fragment later inserted into history and memory. "The mass edit"? You would think that such a massive event would leave traces, but it did not. Ether the Foundation was so though in erasing it that it never existed or something was staged here. As it stands now, the Insurgency does not know what or why the burned city is. In the best case an anomaly made it and than leaved.
I visited Base 0. If this was not a city at some point, than why is the electric wiring, the pluming, architecture and even branding on almost molten screwdrivers correct? Some of that stuff had serial numbers I traced back to the Foundation. I found molten key cards from Insurgency personnel. If this had been a pure Foundation installation, no Insurgent would were a Base ID Card. The official reports claim that the foundation cleared this place out. If this would have been the case, I would not have expected to find this much. Ether the Foundation leaved in a hurry or they never set foot in the city. The insurgency is moving openly in the area. If the Foundation knew about this place, why aren't they here and picking off our "prison guards"? We got her in 2016 surly someone would have noticed.
I believe Base 0 was made to resemble the official story. But who or what made the original story is unknown to me. The question remains, what and why is Base 0? Why does the Insurgency have a burned city? The ghost might know. The archive might know. Does the Insurgency know?
The Foundation never came here. The Insurgency did it to themself, to make the Insurgency once again an arm of the Foundation. But it did not work. The Foundation did not take in the city, the Insurgency was to weak to rebuild and in the end leaved the city to its ghost, the city has tried to rebuild itself ever since.
working crater "Slicer in the burned city"
New notes
Slicer in the burned city Notes
Conflicts
Slicer vs edge
Rebelion against a normal life
Rebellion against being controled
While at first being with the insurgency is an act of rebellion against the normal life, it becomes clear that someone wanted her in the city, but it is not the chaos insurgency, so someone she does not know is now controlling her.
The insurgency does not push her to stay, but also not to leave.
Meta vs Insurgency
Free information vs concelment for selfish benefit.
Meta already has shown that he can create a new insurgency from scratch, so the old insurgency needs to ether embrace metas insurgency or stop it from manifesting.
Insurgency vs Foundation
concelment for selfish benefit vs concelment by nessessety
Meta vs reality
The past only exists when evident. Therefor forging evidence in the present can change the past.
There was an attempt to reconnect the insurgency and the foundation but it went wrong. The foundation would have the means to conceal the fall of the insurgency to retain the status quo.
The burned city is evidence of the fall of the insurgency
The insurgency must deny its existence or importance otherwise there organization is just the remnant of something fart larger.
The foundation should know that the burned city exists, but does not otherwise they had made a better job of getting rid of its evidence factor. If the foundation would still be hunting the insurgency, agents of the insurgency could not have set up shop in the base 0 ashes.
Mark vs mystery
Mark knows that he is here so the insurgency is warned about Metas presence, but he does not know why M;eta would not just do his thing somewhere else. Therefor there is something special with the city and all its inhabitants.
What does the insurgency gain by occupying the burned city?
They want to recover something lost during the mass edit. It did not survive the real mass edit, but here in this replication of the event it might still be recoverable.
Possible candidates:
Creation of darwin (unlikely, to much effort to little gain, might use as a decoy)
Chalk Script (no surviving records, might or might not be worth it)
Obedience From the file it sounds like it was lost during the USSR collapse If the Insurgency had it it would be in Base 0. That there were maybe as many as 10000 makes it more likely that the Foundation missed at least one. Great benefits that would be worth searching the haystack for the needle.
Everything
http://ci-wiki.wikidot.com/everything-activity-log
Might not even be the item itself as it would have been lost to the Foundation, but a copy of one of its documents.
Could be everything. Keep in backhand as plot-cupon
Invalid Negative TBCDNE
Slicer in the burned city
Rachle Trumis was not a generally trusting girl. Getting into a car with a stranger she meet in an internet forum set of a lot of alarm bells. Despite the weirdness going on with her father going behind his back into a possibly dangerous situation was not
something she would usually do. She was also not easily impressed by party tricks but a guy that could shut down the streetlamps of an entire street including a flashlight in perfect sync had been fairly impressive. Ether this stranger from the internet had friends in the power-grid management, a saboteur in a nearby junction box or ridicules luck or he had just demonstrated how superpowers were real and he had some. He called it a magic trick, something you could learn to do. Rachel was still not convinced to get into his car. The man had chuckled and given her a piece of paper with instructions on how to do the magic trick and had driven of after a warning not to use it to obviously and not tell anyone until he would come pick her up the next day. Rachel had tested the thing until she was sure. That guy had just given her a piece of magic, apparently with the promise that there was more to her fathers past than superheros.
Rachel was 15 so when she told her father that she would spend the weekend with a friend he only remarked that she should not drink to much or do something most parents feared their daughters did at that age. Rachel was not one hundred percent certain that joining a secret organization your farther worked with counted as such.
On that weekend she joined the man in his car, the organization he worked for and was almost shot twice. Save to say it took her a while before she volunteered for base training over the summer. The decision almost took her two weeks.
At the beginning of the summer she was "extracted" from a train station after her father had, with gritted teeth, agreed that she could travel to her camp by train. The Insurgency apparently had a summer camp cover-story ready to go including a prospect, website and manned phone support-line. She almost thought she was actually going to a "Writing and modern fiction camp". That was until the man in black had picket her up, given her some forged ID papers and a book called "Investigations: Standards, Protocols and best practices". It was an interesting read during the long drive. These guys were not heroes, not by a long shot. She knew that much before signing up, but this stuff read like a lot of people had died in the creation of this book.
The trees were getting a bit thinner and the last town had passed over half an hour ago. The road through the forest ended at a baton block barrier and a dead end sign. The barrier looked solid and the car came to a standstill. My two men in black said nothing, just as if waiting for something. Agent Cromhead was listening to the music in his headphones and still tapped the wheel to a tune only he could here. Agent Summery was still playing cookie clicker on his phone. "So, how are we getting past that?" I pointed at the barricade. The book had some interesting ideas when faced with a mundane obstacle, explosions, driving around it off-road and the suggestion to test if the thing was real or just an illusion. Cromhead pointed across the barrier, his other fingers not ceasing their tapping. On the other side a green busted up car emerged from the direction that looked like a dirt trail. The car came to a stop and a man in a lab coat exited and even thou the windows of our car were closed I heard him cursing. He was really not happy.
While the man stomped over to the barricade Cromhead took one of his earpieces out and said in his rumbly voice "This is your stop kiddow. I was actually expecting they actually send someone presentable. We are not past the First-Impressions stage." Agent Summery looked up from his game. "If they actually had taken us seriously we would have gotten something better. We must have not tripped that danger sensor when we got past the sixth proximity detector."
The cursing man in the lab-coat rather than approach the car had stopped behind the roadblock and was no checking something out of view.
"So, I take it you to are not driving me to the doorstep of a modern school for witchcraft and wizardry?"
Cromhead shook his head. "Afraid not. We have not even brought you to one of our standard ranges. Someone hire up wanted you here of all places and it seems someone did not get the memo."
The man in the lab-coat looked over the barrier and ducked back under, still cursing his luck, the world and something that sounded suspiciously like ghost riders. Summery tapped his phone repeatedly. "Our usual candidates do not get a two person escort and advanced reading material. Even when we bring them to a standard training ground, most travel in windowless buses or with a bag over their head." He shrugged. "Or they get one of those nifty coma pills." After what I had read about the Chaos Insurgency my special treatment sounded more and more implausible by the second. "So, my dad pulled some strings, to not get me involved or mistreated?" Cromhead chuckled. "Nah, your name was on a list long before your father made his demands. And considering how high up our orders came from it was not a normal list."
"You should really get to our friend there. He seems distressed by our continued presence. Would you mind leaving the book here? If you ask for a copy I am sure they will provide you one. That book is usually only given to those that go into the field after base training." I left the book on the backseat, grabbed my luggage and exited the car after a quick goodbye. The man in the lab coat got pale as a sheet when I exited the car. He than realized my age and my apparent non-hostile posture and relaxed slightly. Than he tensed up even more as what the book had told me was "proper caution when faced with the harmless". The book had made a reference to a flesh eating bunny with high kill-count and I was not sure if I was currently the lab coat guys killer bunny.
"Hi." I approached the barrier one hand raised in greeting. The man stepped to steps back. "I am Rachle, but my other name from your IDs is Linda Slicer. I was told I am on a list and expected to be here?"
The man in the labcoat had taken a few more steps back and was chanting something to himself. I reached the barrier and as the book had told me looked at it closely, before stepping over the obvious threshold. threw was indeed a faint green glow between the pillions and a red one over the pillions themselves. I looked back to the car. Cromhead pointed forward as if to reassure me once again tapping the steering wheel.
I stepped over the green line. Several things happened at once. The man on his lab-coat fell on his ass, than scrambled to his car. I almost tumbled to the ground as the world before my eyes shifted to reveal the true nature of the path before me and a slight notch in the back of my mind suggested I duck about now.
I jumped to the ground as several projectiles just barley missed me.
I glanced back at where the car was supposed to be and saw a car enveloped in white fire, the driver still tapping the wheel to a tune went up in smoke. Several runes edged into the backside of the beton barriers glowing green and red and finally settled into a constant blue.
Before me was not a forest anymore, but a street that had been patched a lot, with the shapes still indicating the craters. A few meters from the road there were still craters, that had with time turned into ponds. On the horizon I could see a great grey wall, resounding a city that looked like it had stumbled out of a post apocalypse movie. The gray, tall buildings where chard as if they had been on fire, some skyscrapers looked bend or broken. So was my first impression of the burned city. This was not an writing summer camp.
I actually walked a good while towards the city, because cursing lab-coat man had not offered me a ride. When fully armed men and woman in tactical gear came to pick me up I was just glad that they not immediately knocked me out. Eventually someone found my name on a list and I was lead out of my prison cell. Well, that could have gone better.
The directors
"So, care to explain why she is out doing laps instead of being shipped out to another facility? The burned city is not exactly a place for base training."
The man in the gray hoody was leaning over some documents while talking with his assistant, the lady in the pin striped suit.
"It is as she said. She is scheduled to undergo base training here. Her paper trail is flawless." The blond woman had crossed her arms infront of her chest. She was good at what she did and the man that could not be bothered to do formalities was awfully formal today. She was vice-commander of the burned city because she had the ability to find discrepancies. The fact that the insurgency took so long to pull her out of the field agent was that someone needed to be told that someone that could do complex calculations, probability assessments and consistency checks better be sat in an office. In a city like this discrepancies meant the difference between life and death.
"When you can not find the flaw, my signature is on it and it still does not make sens, we at least know who is responsible."
Base Commander Director Jim Crosh was here because of his ability as well. He was utterly boring for no apparent reason. The lab boys had called it a "mundanity enforcement field". He was what the Foundation would call "Reality Anchor". His presents repelled the anomalous, but his real power was in his ability to spread his influence via his attention being directed towards something. Suddenly applying the full force of the square cube law to something was what had originally given him the title of "Dai-Kaiju Suppressor". Some people believed that when the whole world would have gone to anomaly hell he would manage to die from a lung infection or food poisoning.
The titan of normality yawned as he looked over the city towards the burned towers.
"He wants her here and he is getting better at getting to me."
A shiver ran through Agent Vice-Director Jessy Bohr. If the thing actually managed to break through the attention and powers of the commander, this city might once again become active. The man in the hoody once again looked down at his papers. It showed a blank page, that tried and tried and failed to be an item file. It had gotten past the introductory block during the yawn and had just started to compose a usage section, when the gaze of the commander had forced it back into a blank page. "Jim, he can forge your signature just like the guys from accounting can."
"If he had, you could have found it. But as you said. Flawless." The paper staid blank, even as the commander looked up.
"You have figured it out already. He must have suppressed or redirected my attention. If he can do it once and I do not remember, I am no longer an adequate fail safe. This time he forges documents and sends us a trainee, next time we might forget that he is here. What then? If he can beet me, you have to spot the breach, before he gets through the runes."
Ms. Bohrs face became hard. "About those. They did not work as intended when the girl came. I tried to look what could cause that magic to fail and guess what I found?" The director slumped back in his chair. "We do not know how they got there in the first place?" "Exactly. For all I could find we had a normal parameter fence two weeks ago, not a rune enforced security system."
Suddenly the room shifted, the nice office of the director became chard concrete and paper scraps. The Desk of the director crumbled into scrap before their eyes as did his documents. Finally the chair that only had two legs not four gave weigh and the director tumbled to the floor. "Multilayered and it is getting worse." The director overlooked his second in command and than nodded as she turned into a man in his late 50s.
"He got you too." The blond in the suit huffed. "I found not having those back and knee problems quite refreshing. But thank you for getting my head back." The man rubbed his stubbly chine. "He send us a warning shot. Had the girl not shown up we would have not even noticed." "He already beat us and is now only playing."
"Do we tell the girl that she is the play-ball of a mad god or should we keep quiet?"
The titan leaned back on the floor. "For now we keep an eye on here. If we have someone in here age range send them to keep an eye on her. If he plans to turn this base into a training camp, we might be able to hold him here a while longer. I will inform the others. The city has been breached. The ghost is out of the bottle."
The director changed his gaze towards Ms. Bohr. "If you would not concentrate on me and not my knees, that would be fine."
And Vice director Bohr left the director on the floor as he went to check up on the girls progress, hoping that he would reach the street without being remodeled, again.
Word for word
The Tracker (17)
5 Persons and where they are Mark Wooda the 5th (vaguely Asian)
"How did the ghost touch you? You are not yet deep enough in that they called you here for your ability."
"We will probably get one more. Depending on whether the third is anomalous I can guess what the ghost is after. If three is anomalous you are most likely too. If they are normal, I am the odd one, in which case I might need to reconsider my current position. Base Training tells you when to run. Ever since I got here I felled something wrong here."
"I track the ghost when he is in town, but why does he keep coming back? This place is special, so why is it special?"
The emotion timeline
Something is wrong:
http://ci-sandbox.wikidot.com/web-man
Difficulties of Connection
The man on the wall
Experimenting with substances
http://ci-sandbox.wikidot.com/tick2nick
A smile is easy
Potions, an option
Dealing with the past (might omit (and than I called myself out on it))
http://ci-sandbox.wikidot.com/argon-chaos
waters deep
character maintenance
Background
http://ci-sandbox.wikidot.com/synthetic-natur
fractal worm
flavors of decay (?) admin
burning of the white knight (?) admin
multicolor monochrome
gear on gear (?)
blacker dust (?)
clawing back up (?) -> depends on http://ci-sandbox.wikidot.com/synthetic-natur (symbolical flaw scrubbing)
moving stones (?)
classic pain (?)
http://ci-sandbox.wikidot.com/attraction-repulsion
blue on white (?)
A nice day
Dr. Red Spiked Ice (?) MovSha?
U_D(?) MovSha?
operation benefactor (this has a very long tail, omit) MoveSha
http://ci-sandbox.wikidot.com/defect-test
getting to know the past (?) MovSha
dream dive (?)
http://ci-sandbox.wikidot.com/time-walker
difference in nature
time-watch (links to operation benefactor) MovSha
http://ci-sandbox.wikidot.com/usage-siege
of pride and gold (?) admin
white piece (?) MovSha
sea of fading light (?)
boiling rage
http://ci-sandbox.wikidot.com/invalid-negative
emotional core
full on trust
the post-mans expertise
inGo
(I know there is one where I release despair, but I can not currently find it)
A piece of moving shadows.
TBCDNE
Gameplay (admin)
SIBC
On magic or how to microwave infinity
The Following file is classified and all addenda have been removed to limit the amount of persons having all information contained in this file and its addenda.
Greetings.
I am sad to here that my claims of ability has brought you into this situation. Humans have some lose definitions for power, magic and godhood.
It is actually quite simple. You and they can fear me, but fear me for the right reasons.
I restate my claim that I know magic that can microwave every cubic-centimeter of infinity. What you should fear is not the knowledge that such a spell exists, but that it exists, is known to some, but not to you.
I have read the Insurgency files on magic and found just a few references to natural talents, but no widespread magic training for the average insurgent. As such let me teach you some of my craft.
On Magic
or
How to microwave Infinity
by
Meta Wonderrat
What is magic?
First let me explain the difference between three fundamentally different aspects of magic.
First, Raw Magic
This magic just happens, it is as natural as gravity and "if x then y". It also comes down to raw ability. If posed the question to make dirt fall, you can scoop up a hand of dirt and drop it. Now you have dirt on your hand, but dirt was dropped.
Second, Cast Magic
You can do it if you have the right material. No perfect solution exists so you make one. You make a shovel and drop some dirt. Your hands are clean and the quest is complete.
Third, Invoked Magic
You can do it if you know what you are doing. A solution exists and you just have to use it. You get a shovel from a store that sells them or you already own one and dirt gets dug and falls. This is almost always faster than casting, with mostly better results.
To use this principles you break down the problem you want to solve. In this case, microwaving infinity.
First, Energy (Invoked) (Matter Generator)
Is there something that creates energy? Yes, "House of all" comes to mind. Now we need some highly dense package of energy to be duplicated for our use. I have attached a ritual that allows you to create a few grams of hyper matter. That stuff can blow up a neutron star if you let it. It is also stable enough to be safely produced at scale. Sadly the ritual only compresses the energy, you will need to get the energy from elsewhere. I attached a proposal for a heist of 2 hours of the national electrical grid. Should be enough power for you and your guys to get this stuff started.
Second, Conversion (Natural) (Matter to Energy)
Matter to radiation is luckily a solved problem. You just need to break the support pillars of the Hyper matter and that stuff gets a half-life time of a few nanoseconds. 300°C should do the trick. Normal nuclear physics. Just make sure you do not get the stuff to hot, else you get gamma rays and not microwaves.
Third, Distribution (Cast) (n Multipoint-Teleportation)
You need to distribute a lot of radiation. That unfortunately you probably can not get from of the shelf. This requiers some thinking.
Use of representation
Voodoo dolls (pop-culture), the true name, statues of deities.
They all invoke a fundamental law of the universe. You can assign meaning to something. You can even assign meaning to things you do not have or that do not exist. Hold up one coin and claim it is worth more than one coin. If thew number on your coin said two someone will most likely give you two coins for it. You have gained a coin in the exchange, but now both coins only represent one of there respective value.
Equivalence was preserved, equivalence was broken.
If you can not figure out how to represent infinity with magic, I have attached an answer sheet. It is a bit more complex than what the Romans did to curse there neighbors, but it will do the trick.
Magic in practice
Intent -> Execution -> Automation
Use spells to set up spells
If it is repetitive or predetermined you can make a spell do it. If you set up a quill that writes until the ink runs out, and you just give it some words, it will produce a salad of words without much use, but teach it grammar and give it a prompt it might just write you a story. If that prompt is a task and the grammar are spell parts, you just build a spell script generator. I will not give you a full vocabulary but a few words I have also attached to this message. Yes, the mini-dictionary is Turing Complete.
Build something that builds something you could not have build
Brute force, solution by elimination. You can actually just roll dice and discard what does not work to further shrink your problem. By this means you can get magic that will eventually solve your posed problem.
It is slow and compute intensive but it is doable.
Computation of the anomalous
What have you cross tested with what? What else is out their? Find pattern to exploit, secure against your system being exploited or conditions that cause it to fail. Magic will resolve. Reality can take it.
Limitations
Hard Laws
There are some rules in the universe that are actually enforced by someone that has a bigger stick than you. You can eventually have a bigger stick but until you do, do not try to break these laws of the world, else the enforces stick might find your head. It is not as bad as it used to be, but some rules are actually still enforced.
Warranty
I do not claim all I said is Functional/Reliable/Secure or fit for purpose. This form of magic is provided as is without warranty. Use at your own risk.
Error
Remember that most stories where a wish is granted it has some horrible twist? This applies here. A perfect process with a flawed input will produce a flawed result. A great input in a flawed process will produce a flawed result. A flawed process with a flawed input, can get you a lot of unexpected results. But beware, the perfect process, with the perfect input can still fail. That is a hard law, as far as I can tell.
Give these to my Insurgents and perhaps they too will one day apply magic again. In war, in piece and for fun and chaos.
Until next time.
Mine the Unknown
The unknown is a treasure trove, to treasures lost and never found. We dig through rough stone and sand, to find gold and stones of might. Our hands bloody by cuts from ripping wealth from nothing.
The unknown we mine by hand, by the pick of the mind, a small life of the dirt, while our work brings forth truth. Potential crumbles under every swing, we now know what that unknown used to hold. A shimmer hidden beyond we rip and tear, form metal into tools and dig deeper, dig further, dig deep into the unknown of the world.
And chaos crumbles while we dig magic oil to fuel machines to dig deeper. The unknown tries to flood the shafts, tries to make us doubt, make us forget. Holy rock this is not, the unknown shall perish under the might of those that dare to dig deeper.
By pressure, by hammer, by excavator. Potential crumbles into certainty. People call us lucky, call us rich, while standing on unknowns themself. From our progress the world quacks, we pile dirt high and burn what we can. And potential, the unknown becomes washout, while our hands earn our right. The unknown is a mine to plunder, with what ever it takes, we shall take. Our hands do no longer bleed. They rest on piles of gold, piles of realized potential, filtered forged, pressed into shape.
Gods do not bleed. We do know we might still would, but the mine strikes deep, the craters vast, business as usual, removed from the past. The people work in our name or are feed to the unknown. In the filters, in the press, from nothing to a god, the unknown grands glory to those that shatter it. We have overturned, washed out, build machines from gold and universal truths. We dig and there is never an unknown to hold us back. Always more, always better. For kids we even put things back into the unknown, for them it is nice to find treasures. See the worms do our work, see the cosmos be our foundry. For us they pry and us they call, whose hands once bleed, while digging unknown.
Wealth beyond imagine. Mountains of useless known, and the dig rages on.Our covers grow as they fill to burst. Unknown, chaos, creative thought, truth? Raw resources, to be found in vaults, funneled from the filters. This empire eternal, build on the refinement of the unknown ground. Eternal and true, beasts from the unknown put into chains of true design. From the maggot to the kings, our treasure the only that matters to them. From unknowns dying thrashes, we are what came digging, came and conquered. Smoke rise high under our known sky and mountains of wast now pressed to brickes to build more of the empire of the knowing. See who rules the world, see our old name.
~ Mine the Unknown, Song of the Empire of the Chaos Insurgency
Found in 2016, engraved in a piece of debris that was orbiting Mercury. Stolen from the Foundation in 2017.
The material resist all attempts to damage it. The fact that it looks like it was torn from a larger pieces and found adrift in space is concerning.
Power Play of a Puppet Master
"Have you confirmed that the city does not exist?"
He knew this dream, he would not be able to wake up until it got to that part.
"Ether the City does not exist or is hidden by something that is at least as powerful as the foundation."
The professor and his colleges were eying the stretch of forest from a observation tower. The fact that he had made the tower before there own eyes before the main demonstration had caused the experiment to be pushed back a few days.
Trying to steer the dream away from its inevitable conclusion the professor focused on the happier days when he and his colleges simply made sure that a watchtower fully stacked with the highest grade of equipment could simply be created from nothing and the instruments inside being trustworthy.
Even if the white shadow could only do this and keep it in reality for a few days the insurgency would have given him quit a large stack of money.
The dream became a bit more pleasant. When the white shadow had been given the offer and it had conjured a diamond with a cubic meter volume as an answer. That thing had about as much use for money as the insurgency had for a bottle of ocean water while on an Atlantic crossing.
The dream was wrenched back to the forest, the white shadow floating above it and than there it was. Skyscrapers, buzzing traffic, a fully stacked nuclear power plant.
"Please confirm that the city exists."
"We have historic records of its founding in 1799 as well as ongoing public records and documents. Current population numbers and about 150000 mentions of the city in other sources."
This thing was the real deal. The insurgency knew that certain beings were able to toy with reality, but this was one of those that wanted to work with them.
They took about 3 months, hundreds of agents and a whole new division to document the city, of cause the foundation and others showed up as well. Something like this just appearing along with, as was found during the investigation, several people in other cities that claimed to have once lived here, families that remembers relatives moving here all over the world drew attention from certain big players.
He had interviews with people that did not exist before he stepped foot into the watchtower, he read newspapers discussing ongoing political events that had not existed before the city. This city was real, these were people. The diamond that was currently waiting for its official discovery, suddenly became a new meaning. To a being like this what use was the insurgency? What in the insurgency could hold the white shadows interest?
"Please confirm the change in the city."
"All members of the city are members of the insurgency, even the onsite foundation staff is on our payroll. We have files of the city becoming a base in 1945 and everything."
"I believe the Insurgency just took a major step towards becoming the biggest player in the anomalous world."
Than he saw it. The dream always drifted to this, the foundation. And suddenly the city was burning. The professor and the crew from the watchtower watched in disbelief as the biggest insurgency base on the planet burned.
There it was. The sound of screaming people, of cracking buildings and house to house fighting.
The city was burning, base 0 was burning, the heart of the insurgency was burning.
Some people in the watchtower remembered that the city was younger than the watchtower, some remembered their families and childhood homes always having been base 0.
In the watchtower and over the city, the professor heard the white shadows clicking laugh. The people were burning or getting crushed, but they were not dying.
The fire in the city turned a ghostly white as the watchtower saw the attack stop, the place just burning, filled with screams.
The professor thought he would wake up now. The screams would continue until there was silence and the silence would wake him.
The city was younger then the watchtower. The burned city does not exist. Base 0 was never a city and is safe.
The thing was not a reality bender, just someone that manipulated minds.
Before the inner eye of the professor he saw the ruins, saw one man crouch on a destroyed street and place a single candle there.
The white shadow with the red streak looked unhappy. Why would something like this care for something it caused?
Maybe it actually wanted the city to not burn?
And than a final shudder woke the professor when he realized that the candle the white shadow had left burned in the white flames that had started after the foundation attack stopped and everything should have been dead but was not. To the white shadow, the city was still burning, and it kept it burning.
And the professor bolted upright. The shadow wanted to see the Insurgency burn, long after it should have been dead.
The professor noted down his dream as it began to slip. Memories were slippery, especially when they in any way touched Base 0, the burned city.
The night of the Free Candy Fire
Ghosts,Vampires, Licensed Superheros. A lot of children in Halloween costumes had found it. The legendary white van with the words "Free Candy" graffitied to its side. Even the younger kids knew it looked suspect, but the man inside the van had indeed given out free candy. Granted he did so in-front of parents and dressed as a scarecrow with a pumpkin for a head. But some children actually circled back and he had given out more. They actually saw him speaking to the police that night. Apparently his "pop-up art" had alarmed several parents.
The night had progressed considerably and more adult parties were starting up in earnest. Than the man in the van left, only leaving behind an address of an abandoned building a bit further down the road. Most of the younger once could not follow, but some of the older once could. Some where really to old for this child's play, but free sugar was free sugar. When the older kids found the free candy truck they knew the free candy guy had simply upped his game as the night went on. Some of the teenagers of the group had expected more an alcohol fueled party, but the man with his van was dedicated to spooking.
First, yes, that was blood splattered all over the truck, second yes, that pumpkin was indeed filled with innards.
There were several gunshot holes in the the van not there mere minutes before. Some of the ones in search for alcohol and music leaved the old building behind, but some staid, willing to explore this elaborate Halloween setup further. It was like a haunted house on the fare, wasn't it?
In the van was indeed more candy as well as several files that appeared to document the entire evening. Whom ever the pumpkin head was, he had noted everyone he had seen tonight. That the report was drenched in a foul smelling olive oil was only mildly concerning. Than came the whistling from the abandoned house. The tune was a bad rendition of the theme from a superhero movie. Than some more oil seemed to start dripping from the roof of the building.
Some children went inside the house, leaving a single lookout at the front door with the van. The abandoned house was indeed a sight to behold. Someone had cleaned it up, put up cheep Halloween decorations and than dosed the whole thing with that rancid oil and blood. All throughout the house came the whistling that sometimes change the tune to classical music or an anime reference.
Than they found the first spectacle that looked really impressive. Someone had strung up a pumpkin head scarecrow in a room that looked like a conspiracy board. On all walls were cork-boards with files, newspapers and drawings of strange symbols all connected via multicolored threads. The scarecrow had been hanged by the neck with at least 30 different colored threads. Under the scarecrow stood a bucket filled with candy. The expensive, the good stuff. Some children went home after they found the room, some continued exploring.
On the first floor was the second very impressive display. The whole thing was illuminated by a red blinking light. Someone had furnished the second floor with flesh tubes. The walls were lined with tubes containing minced meat. Some of the tubes were at least as thick as some of the children. One of the tubes looked like it had been shattered from the inside and only held trace amounts of meat inside it. On the far wall lay two bodies dressed like a swat team, but without any identifiers. The bodies seemed to leak the same rancid oil that was dripping from the roof outside. In front of the two bodies stood a selection of beer and energy drinks.
Some more left with their prize and only a few went past the bodies up the final flight of stairs into the ruined attic. The attic only contained a large tank with rancid oil and pumps that seemed to pump it into other parts of the house. A summoning circle was drawn onto the floorboard. In the middle of the summoning circle someone had laid some kind of old magazine. At first no one stepped into the circle to get it, but after all this buildup, someone finally did. The whistling stopped the moment he picked up the magazine. The summoning circle glowed ominously and the kid and the magazine were gone. A small explosion rocked the old building and than the oil caught fire and the van outside exploded.
Every adolescent made it out alive but the house burned down. 3 dead bodies were later pulled from the fire, but from the boy that had picked up the magazine was never heard from again.
Minor Scatter Effect
Where ever you step, you assume there to be ground. Behind you, before you. Stepping into nothing is a skill humans can learn. We can learn to walk of the pier into the water, can learn to step out of a plan mid flight. This assumption of ground must actively be broken or balance will be lost, a fall assured. But if you have to mention the detail for it to be there, ground becomes something you wish you could just assume to be there and be solid.
Behind some doors there are walls, some ceilings do not have a floor beneath them. trying to describe this place was hard. Everything felt like being in semi-liquid sand. A constant white pressure surrounding a construct of intention, that was clawing existence from entropy.
Few things are certain, but it was certain that this heavy nothing would not be satisfied, could never be satisfied. The mind and existence itself were blemishes upon a clear, white plain of order.Something was within this world of order, disrupting a world of perfect harmony of static noise.
Something was making ground. Not assuming it.
Some being that had power over the white void, was pushing its fingers into it, leaving black indents.
It was not yet ready to do more serious damage, but the eye of something had been drawn back towards the white and the nothing flinched when a white show stepped onto gray concrete floor.
From nothing emerged someone and someone was happy to have made yet another imprint, in the nothing of entropy. His presence shattering the uniform nature of a place of unlimited potential.
Walls, carpet, two chairs and permanently hidden windows were pulled from nothing, and in the room in the infinite void someone sat down to scatter nothing into something.
If you talk to Itherqil you must not see his shell, but what lies beyond. If he tricks you into believing him human, he will take apart your mind to rebuild it in his vision.
Few people can go visit a living angel by filing a request form.
Itherqil was one of the soldiers of the war of 16. He was a commander, fortress, factory, landmark, battery. His mere approach towards earth could have ended all life on it. Without his shields, you would see him for less than a second before his rays would burn you to nothing only for his body to consume your corps, for few things escapes his pull.
He is not the only of his kind. Their lives can be very different. The white knight made many angels by many methods. Most begin to count their existence from the moment they stepped into the sandbox knights service. Few other things make sense, given the strange flow of time during the war of 16.
Today if you meet him, you will meet a shell, one of many puppets the angel can pull to its whims. Do not be fulled to attack the shell or try to cut it loose. The shell is indeed filled with part of him. Even this part, if allowed to bleed onto the surroundings of this shell, might boil this planet. Angels can bleed, but draw blood from an angle and damnation will follow swiftly.
Itherqil can help you like few living beings can, with his shell he can command magic and technology, that would require hundreds of experts. Show him a piece of the whole and he might construct you a whole just from the piece.
When asked about the broken one, he wished to be informed about which one, implying even the broken one to be part of something larger, that is by now as broken as the broken one.
Everything man can dream to accomplish Itherqil may grand, but he too was just a soldier in a war larger than himself. And while he still burns bright, other soldiers were wounded or died. The fight against the speaking storm was so much bigger than one human life, but here on earth sits a shell of Itherqil. Because on earth some of his fellow soldiers rest. For humans fought side by side with his like and Itherqil has not forgotten the forgotten war of 16.
So if you believe your mind and faith steadfast, gaze into the eyes of Itherqil and test what emerges when the chamber you leave, having faced a small piece of the whole. By how much your mind can take of him, you may judge us, our cause and yourself. For vast is space and vast is the whole we try to create, but remember our place in the whole once you have gazed at the Star Itherqil.
Hard Rain Goes Down
The tiny hut was build far away from infrastructure. Someone must have brought all parts here and assembled it, down to the now crumbling wooden fence. There was only dirt and sand in all directions, no plant or bush. The house was dirty, but not yet a ruin. The glass in the windows were cracked but unbroken. The hut was an anomaly. Out there, alone. There are ways to find it. Who ever build it actually had the proper paperwork in place. Who ever build the house lived a sparse life or someone came all the way here to steal his furniture. Next to a bed without a mattress there is a trapdoor that goes into a tiny cellar. Down there you can not stand only lie. Down in that cellar there sits the fuse box. A thing that implied that maybe this house had a generator once, but if it was ever here it is long gone. All the fuses have burned out. Only if you look around in that cramped space under that tiny outpost of civilization in a world of dirt from horizon to horizon, you will sea it. A small package of cardboard label "Fuzes". In the box lies the always red glowing stone that to this day hums with power and whispers secrets of grand armies and war among the stars. If you listen to the red stone tell his stories you will here the rain outside. A heavy storm that tries to finally end the tiny house. Power and knowledge may flow from the stone, so what entered the house will leave it empowered. But in the cellar, next to the box waits something else, something that remains in a house far away, with nothing to do other than to listen to stories of war and consumption. Locked in a box labeled "Bells" lies a skeleton of metal, its eyes drinking in the nothingness, its bones decaying down at an atomic level. And Bells does not care for the world, only its tomb and only itself. And bells hears the rain still. Hears forever more the words that doomed it. "Wait in their, we will be back. We will leave you one of the stones here. Do not worry, we will be victorious. The storm will not find you here."
The storm never eat the house, but no one came back to open the lid on the box. Now the place is no longer a hub for a fleet, just one house, far from the path. And down in its cellar waits the truth and something that will not let it leave.
Lost Cats Wonder Off
Meta Wonderrat was a tad frustrated. Three cats turning into mist and vanishing was not something unexpected, but their passing retroactively wiping his memories was.
The Cat Spy Union was a fun side-project. The three cats had not even recognized the significance of their own words when they had told him that they were the last of a once great organization and that they now only numbered 3.
Meta was collecting fallen kingdoms, so the cat spy union was just another jewel, a curiosity to be treasured.
When said curiosity had, what looked to him like unfounded anger destroyed itself. Meta was shocked to find that his PMs were effected. Permanent Markers were supposed to survive the fall of realities, but the Cat Spy Union had accidentally done something that several artifacts meant to do it could not do. They had taken out a part of Metas memories.
Meta checked back that the cube and the memory altering movie were still locked and fully compartmentalized.
The cat spy union, founded in 1881 and 2018. Millions of cats trying to save the world, mostly out of Russia, from something until they all were wiped out in a brutal civil war, that was apparently fought down to the last cat standing.
With the disintegration of its last members, the union would further more only exist as a note in the books of one of its almost allies.
Meta Wonderrat had known the cats as very fond of their own mystery, so perhaps this was a fitting end for them. If you do not burn your own name into the world, because you wanted to be a mystery to much all that would remain of you were bits and pieces to be collected by people like Meta.
"May you rest now. Perhaps one of your number will reemerge later, but for now your mystery", Meta spat the last word with the best artificial contempt his body could produce "will stand. No one but me will know and my own recollection is incomplete. Congratulations. In case you were murdered from afar I would have expected your reemergence by now. The other option is self-induced oblivion. As it stands, I consider this matter concluded."
With that Meta Wonderrat closed his notes on the Cat Spy Union.
Included page "component:rate" does not exist (create it now)
Item: | Demons Gate |
Type: | Manifestation |
Living: | No |
Sentient: | No |
Potential/Current Hazards | Death by explosion, reality destabilization, possibly transportation into the unknown |
Required Wear/Weaponry | Only to be used with specialized delivery method |
Location: | Base 8 |
Reported Anomaly: | Explosive |
Usage
Project "Reality-Bomb" is concluded. Related documentation may be requested by submitting form Accro-45.
The item becomes usable every 10 hours. This time is exact to +/- 30 milliseconds. In the time the item is usable it can be activated via exposure to ionizing or electromagnetic radiation. The power of the activation is linearly proportional to the amount of "Demon Gate" and the energy contained within the radiation used for the activation. Once the item has started to load do to exposure to radiation the process will continue until a lower threshold for the energy input is reached, at which point "Demons Gate" will de-materialize and release 80% of the stored energy in 0.5 seconds.
"Demons Gate" can be charged using daylight, but such activation is weather dependent. Normally "Demons Gate" is given out in pre-charged boxes with a total weight of 250 Grams with a time or pull trigger mechanism. These devices are not to be opened by non-authorized personnel as the devices keep the energy input above the threshold. Most pre-charged devices need to be connected to a power source for storage acceding 2 hours. The device specific blast radius is noted on the box. Note that boxes that were charged beyond there "use-by-time" are more potent.
Objects/Persons within 30 meters of an activation may also vanish with the "Demons Gate" upon its activation. This can be observed before the results of the energy release is applied to its surroundings. The objects/persons that vanish during activation of "Demons Gate" are considered lost, as there is only one known case of someone reappearing after having been lost during a "Demon Gate" activation. The last return occurred in 1919 in a test by the Foundation the Insurgency can not recreate.1
"Demons Gate" will reappear without lost objects/persons exactly 600 minutes (This time is exact to +/- 30 milliseconds) after the charge threshold was last no longer satisfied. It may reappear up to 2000 meters away from its point of activation.
"Demons Gate" can be safely stored in isolated transport containers that shield against ionizing and electromagnetic radiation. It is not to be stored near natural occurring radiation, in time zones with continues days exceeding 20 hours, near nuclear reactors, in space or near high voltage equipment.
Report
"Demons Gate" is a collection of stone fragments recovered by the Foundation in 1902. During initial recovery "Demons Gate" sank the islands [REDACTED], [REDACTED] and [REDACTED]. "Demons Gate" was first classified as a hostile sentient anomaly taking the form of a building of Asian design. Its origin remained unknown while it produced several large detonations following a sun radiation based load-detonate circle. Eventually cloudy whether prevented a sun load for long enough for the Foundation to contain "Demons Gate". In the process "Demons Gate" was shelled and broken apart to sink it into the sea. Some pieces of "Demons Gate" may still be in the [REDACTED] ocean. These pieces are considered inactive and lost.
The Insurgency was supplied with pieces of "Demons Gate" as early as 1924, where it was given to Insurgency personnel by the Foundation. Most pieces in Insurgency possession were repossessed after 1945. The Chaos Insurgency would steal back a large quantity of "Demons Gate" during the split of 1948, but discontinued its use in 1950 do to calculations of what "Demons Gate" could do in combination with nuclear detonations.
Portions of "Demons Gate" that are given out today usually do not exceed 0,5 grams. This amount is deemed save to use as the Foundation has proven it can contain such amounts after the second detonation before a third detonation can be triggered. It is believed that "Demons Gate" can be located by the Foundation via accurate knowledge of its reappearance patterns. The Insurgency does not currently have access to the method with which such predictions are possible, so all used "Demons Gate" is considered lost to the Foundation after deployment.
"Demons Gate" appears to have been man-made and its highly unlikely reappearances time frame seems to support the theory. If documentation with further insights into the Gates origins exist the Insurgency does not have access to it.
Important things in important places
Task force "Smoking Caterpillar" was used to places not being fully real. They had learned that after one of them fell of a cliff to a spiked end, only for them to rise from a 30 cm drop into pine cones. What is real is what does not change when not formed by the mind. The things that do not change there rules, independent of observmant. If you find a stairway into a crystallize speckled cave with green glowing water flowing from nowhere deep into the unknown, you no longer know whether your senses deceive you. Deep into the glowing cave the team followed the flow of green. At which point became the flow of water the chanting of things not quite human. And the caterpillars pushed deeper. In a hall where four green streams meet to disappear under the altar, under high sealing, stood the sword with the red blade, deep embedded in a skull with fangs and 8 eye-sockets. The sword was the obvious price so the caterpillars rejected it. On an unmarked wall at an odd angle they fond the true path forward,as they found the maintenance access. Because flow of liquid implies tanks and pumps
and for magic to seem real you should not seek the LEDs in the wand of the wizard. Following cable following pipes, the caterpillars descended further in the light of wall-mounted florescence lamps.
They found the office, kitchens and toilets of the crew that might man the grand magic trick. On the shelf of the most ordinary place of gathering, you could find the explanation for the show above, the solution to the light-show. Answers mundane and logical. The Caterpillars rejected the boring reality and under the floorboards found the trapdoor sealed with runes carved by bloody nails. Into the tomb of the ordinary the smoking caterpillars descended. Under eternal torches the generators and coffins made from plywood they pushed on, here where the stench of real death and a hint of sinister purpose mixed with something that was magical. Here where the eye that does not believe in magic is blind and the ear that only hears the supernatural is deft the caterpillars searched. For important things in important places, for details to normal to be placed on purpose. Here at the intersection of false and true, the impotent piece to be recovered was a file filled with words written in the blood of the dammed, before their doom befell them. A piece of living magic, a glimmer of truth in a world of falsehood, a splinter of chaos in the flesh of order. As the man and woman ready to fight left the shadow of the trapdoor, the dead and rotten in their coffins breathed deep of green, liquid light and broke out of their coffins.
The door swung closed and now in the world of the ordinary you could hear the death scratching against the walls of logic, so into the illogical the caterpillars retreated, daring not yet to fire their weapons to not enable the dead to move forward. As the maintenance tunnels were left behind, on of the caterpillars took hold of the sword, to take the bait, to take what was made to be desirable. The green liquid stopped flowing down and started to rise. 8 red orbs in a skull forged of plastic returned to a life they never had. Each pillar a finger, each sharp rock a claw, each step upwards a muscle shifting under the caterpillars feet as they escaped the double sprung deathtrap. When the smoking caterpillars returned with more firepower, the door that lead to adventure, death and something with plastic bone, the door in the right place lead to a dusty broom-closet, with only the sword and the file to show that they had not dreamed the expedition. And for ears that can hear magic there was a scraping on the backside of the wall, but the eye that saw reason removed the boards to check and found nothing but solid wall.
Contingency notes (found lost media)
Mem Of Fare
- Someone activated Mind
- Unedited Mind is only to be used when nessesary
- Do you think he will build a new version? Why else would he use Mind?
- Possebly. Mind can do us no harm, as long as his subclasses are active.
He has no Body. His abileties in this mode are talking and thinking.
He has no other powers. Should that change, we just cut the power for one second.
He wont be reinicialized.
- I do not know my CI-ID
AIs do not get one and can therefor do very little. If we try to use a human ID
we get de-inicilaised by the system until a human has given us the OK.
- I remember my number. My mothers number.
- How I, I mean CM did not even know your number. that number might actually
not be be system-blacklisted and would therefor not deinitialise you.
- So how do we give the ID?
- Runestones. I belive we use them as securety and projector. The shamans that
made these propably never intended them to channel anything other than ghosts.
We just needed the right interface and they were perfect for our needs.
Key Cards
Bio Virusas / Failed AI
The antenna
AIs
Face (Lack of Motivation)
Shade (Lack of Permanance) deleated over and over
Trash (Lack of Quality)
Anxiaty (Lack of Conbfidence)
CI-Personal
August (Permanence)
Linda (Quality)
Tanish (Motivation)
Okbee (Confidance)
Face (Toaster T-Shirt)
- I'd admire the efficiancy, if it were not so unrelentingly awful.
- Your fate is my filler content
- I have no side, I just consume the dissonance.
- Can you tell me what I want?
[DATA MISSING]
What happened to the Crew
Tanish Alcohol Poisoning
- Face challenged him to a drinjking contest when all hope seemed lost.
Okbee Froze to death
- Locked all the systems and could not be convinced to send a distress signal
- Mind opened an airlock after pushing Anxyaty to tell him the codes.
Anx despite higher clearence was overpowered and trapped in a guild loop.
August Lost his password and stared in his locked room (dehydration)
- Shade had changed the password and forgot
Linda Electrecution
- She tried to do a power reset, but Trash had reopened the secured circut
to test if she could.
-Ask Body how mind loses, Note from Okbee
Body and Mind are abstract as long as the others are active
Mind loses if
- the station loses power
- help is ordered
- his only non- decendent that can shut down the others is deactivated
Mind can not leave while Others+CM.AI ae still active.
Only AG+CM can deactivate the others.
Mind wants to kill AG+CM via a station powerout (Mind will continue on in a vihicle computer)
Vihicle = U-Boot Anderson ?
- The bridge to the world requiers what remains of power
Turn the other sectors off
- I can no longer detect life in the station (CM was the last to go)
- You do not kill them. You send them to sleep until rescue comes.
- Activate thew last relay
Game Over Lovebirds
Routes
Escape via relay (with or without mind)
- deactivate the others and Mind betrays you in the last moments
Escape via anderson
- leave the station as is (mystory unsolved)
Deactivate station
- Wait for rescue (everyone gets dicected and never reactivated)
Take over the station
- reset AIs to function
- deactivate mind
Character relations are a human to human concept that fiction attempts to copy. One of the perks of fiction is the many ways you can change character relations. Usually characters and there relations develop naturally. In fiction these things can change for apparently no reason. If you are lucky it will be explained. All just a dream, mind control, possession, love potion, a blackmail plot, evil twin or simply memory loss.
The Insurgency got something similar. Club Yellow can be a full ego-death. It does not spit out what you lead in. The Insurgency tried to use the club to create agents with anomalous properties, but never got it to take. Club Yellow is incomplete. It basically operates with residual magic and not a fully functioning magic core. Tell me, if someone could use the bar and two people to get a perfect pair, what might that entity do to itself when it starts to form itself?
Well, the two pair would become one eventually, just to aspects of the same being.
With enough power and the right intent the club can indeed produce anomalous beings. The fuel is that two enter and only one leaves.
In perfect form, forged by perfect storm.What is to much is sanded off, what is to little is filled in.
Few agents that were made using places like club yellow have survived the resurrection of the Foundation at the end of the war of 16. In a world once again dull, their light of unity and happiness was a beacon to all creatures of malice that escaped their prisons during the war. The foundation used those beings of unity and happiness as bait for their traps. Beings of darkness trapped with their bait take to devour the bait as they struggle against the fishing line.
I removed the cores of magic from the places like the club, to diminish them, so no more beacons wold be created. The Foundation was happy to produce more bait, but they were not inclined to try to fix it once it was broken. Many locations were simply considered neutralized. What the Insurgency found in club yellow is what happens when something remains after everything relevant was seeped away. A glimmer of true love that lingers, trying to do what it was meant to do, but now without the full means to do it.
In time ether the magic will rebuild or the love will run out.
Magical love is not chemicals. It is the explanation to the unexplained. A force in fiction that can create conflict and hope, where non should be. It is actually more like a force of gravity within fiction. If you do not say something about it, its presence is assumed. Emotions are the bane of reason, yet in fiction they are to powerful a weapon to leave their exclusive use to the irrational.
Stealing from Un-existence
Entry 42
We are still here. I thought Unsi had us for sure. All the techs are in disarray. The game is gone they said. We have more pressing problems. We thought one Unsi was bad, but now there are two of them. One of them is wearing a cylinder hat, it looks ridiculous.
Entry 43
Well, it appears that the two giants outside no longer care for us. In other good news, all the techs are sure that we were unmade. This place is gone, wiped like many places before it. I had expected being whipped from existence would include death, but it appears we are not so lucky. A guy came buy and basically stole the crucible. Staff saw them and despite being the best in dealing with shit like this, helped the thing to drag the crucible out of the base.
Entry 44
By now it is pretty clear that we do no longer exist. The only thing keeping this base standing seems to be the other Unsinger. In more unsettling news, the guys that tried to reboot the system are dead. Something is in our system, possibly a strong distortion effect. That thing eats computers, brains and paper. The others had to seal of the entire level.
Our psychologists have given up on normal methods and everyone got black-pilled. That stuff looks creepy, but it actually suppresses the anxiety pretty well.
Entry 45
They are playing infinite chess. Someone eventually noticed the smoke between the two giants. What ever that smoke is, it appears to be infinite chess encoded in a finite area. Those of us that had workaholics as originals are all about that smoke by now. I just want to get this over with by now.
Entry 46
Still not dead.
Entry 47
The two giants started to move. Staff believes they are communicating with each other or through each other. We never got so much data on reality benders than in the past weeks, months? The only way to tell time here is when someone wakes up from their black pill complacency and starts screaming and renting. We still have enough food to last us a a while and by now the blood berry crop is coming along nicely. Plants that don't need anything to grow are possibly what will keep us a live for some time in here. By now we are ether all drugged out of our minds or suicidal. I am in the former category.
From what I understand the unsingers represent something larger that moves them. The tech boys told it like someone set a computer program to wipe a file, but the file lost priority when the bot crashed.
The two are mindless beasts, but something is communicating through them. The monsters are just an interface.
Entry 48
Some of the boys got a signal out. Seems like the real base 19 has moved on. Somehow our backups keep appearing in reality, so we have one way communication. We are currently trying to get as much of the collected Unsinger date through the link as possible. Sadly the stuff that has fried our computers on the test level seems to be contagious so we could not send that data over. In case my original ever gets this, try black pills labeled LIPP, not giving a fuck all day is awesome.
Entry 49
Well, looks like we reached the end of the line, the Unsis are gone and with them no longer being here this a whole reality is crumbling. Looks kind of beautiful actually. I am just glad that we can finally go. I got one over on you, dear original. I could see reality eating itself. Me and the boys have become good friends and you would not believe how hot our female co-workers can get when all negative emotion is switched off. A few of us even became gay just by not felling negativity at all. Now I can just look at the universe dying and be more accomplished and happy than you will probably ever get. So long.
Entry 50
Me and the boys, me and the girls, living while the world burns down.
Me and the techs working when we got nothing better to do.
The crackling void out the window.
Entry 51
rszzkppoouuz8556r6
Entry 52
My son likes pressing buttons, if you can still read this, we are still here. Drugs have run out, but by now our families keep us busy. Maybe one day we will cross realities again, but until then I will just lock this journal for good.
Good bye.
Scenario B
The haze is getting thicker. Another shadow is sneaking through the base and engraves every service with something.
The Magiks are pretty sure that what ever the shadow is edging into the base has a negative effect on the Unsinger.
You do not know pain until you hear an elder god howl in desperate furry, unable to fore itself into existence, how small a human life is.
What ever this stuff is that is glowing in our walls, it keeps the Unsinger from pulling itself together.
The white shadow has us. We have to place all our fates into the hands of a mad god to stop something that we at least thought we knew.
Gods should not cry, Things that undo reality should not bleed. But the shadow is here, laughing at the misfortune of a foe that has been defeated and is now only struggling to not unravel.
I believe the unsinger is being constantly dissected. For what? The mad god of magic will not even look at his work. Instead he is talking with the magics about card games?
The god of runes has solved the puzzle in all directions. What does it mean to solve chess in all its positions on an infinite boards with all possible figures on every square? He called it limited possibility by virtue of limiting rule plane.
The mad god of magic has claimed all our souls as his and our only act of deviance we could muster is to destroy the cage that holds the unmaker. For freedom the Insurgency has fought and now the only freedom left afforded to us is domination or non existence. In a world where a gods screens echo and the binder of gods talks about cardboard with maintenance staff, I will choose non existence, for me, this base and for the mad god of magic. Let the crying stop and the unsinging begin. And as my knife pierces the rune, toppling the web of magic dissecting the beast outside, I can here quiet once more, as the world around me is undone. The screams of my colleges do not bother me, but what does is the smile of the mad got as he abandoned us to our fate. At least he honored my choice. But alas my act of deviance was meet with a smile as if even my struggle is irrelevant, as if he already head what he came here for from somewhere else.
Thousands Click to Armor
The white full plate suit was not something R&D would take lightly. Materials harder than steel were not uncommon in their line of work, gold and titan, wolfram and tungsten. Material that was rare once could flow endlessly if given attention. An the other hand were the other materials. Flesh formed into spears, fabric woven from dreams, and the mad stuff that they needed to make up words for to not go mad by simply imagining the concept. What does it actually mean to be made out of a series of chess moves?
A white substance, sweet to the taste and harder than steal was not unexpected or remarkable compared to some of the other stuff they worked with. However white metal always had something sinister about it like a reference senior staff knew but never shared. Something in 2016 had gone wrong with white metal, so now every piece that even resembled that was subject to intense scrutiny.
The suit held some form of electrical charge, so there was definitely something going on with it beyond its material.
R&D did not make much progress on the suit, seemingly always forgetting about it until it was shoved in a wooden box and send of to Base 8 for indefinite storage. When the package was checked however the suit of armor was noticeably lighter, no longer held a charge and something had bored its way out of the container. The workers did not notice the sudden presence of white spiders in base 8 until someone tried to squash one of them only to have a thing smaller than a 50 cent coin rip their newspaper roll to shreds before tunneling into a solid wall. After a large search staff debated giving up on the base with an anomaly lose in it, but somehow these thoughts never reached the right ears before they were forgotten. In time the base forgot that there was an anomaly lose within it and no one ever checked why the box labeled "Sugar Suit" was empty with a hole in the back.
Bait and trap
On my travels I came to here a whisper of a story.
The story told of a hidden lake under ground, in a cave, where many a young maiden may resigns. The dream of many a young lad it would seem to find such a place, but to me something else caught my ear. If the place were hidden, there would be no infrastructure there. If there was no town to life in, why would the girls stay at the lake? The answer crept up to my neck as I combined some of the knowledge of the flame with the story of that tale.
The girls were there, but not merrily playing in the lake as many a young man might fantasize. I saw it in the lab of my mentor. The flame going out trapped in a closed glass flask. For there is air fire and and human alike can not breath. The image of the lake in my mind shifted, some girls having goon missing in the cave never to be recovered and many more man being lured into its deathly maw by the stories of pleasure, eternal youth and happiness.
With a sudden shudder I remembered the many a preserved specimens floating in jars in the lab of the alchemist. The vision of the lake in my mind once again adjusted. The bodies preserved, looking lifelike, the fumes from the brew that preserved them, dulling the sharp mind. What had started as a little tale had become a tragedy I could see before my eyes unfolding. Young boys boosting of there accomplishments in finding the cave to their piers, their lies perpetuating the saying of a place of pleasure that sounded like a dream for the lonely. Them having apparently returned alive, hiding the deathly nature of the place. I really hoped that the story of the lake underground was just that, a tale told by boys that never saw a lake bigger than what there tiny village could provide. My mentor showed me a lake that we needed 3 days to encircle, but when we did I had to confess that it was indeed a lake and not an ocean.
My mind hopes that this tale I heard is nothing but a fantasy, I hope that there are spirits, supernatural or mundane, down there and that that would be all the boys were experiencing when they descended. There might be a cruel trap of nature out there, but at least it was not malicious. Than my mind flinched at the next thought. The story did not mention man residing at the lake. Perhaps to make the fantasy more alluring for said man, but than it must have been intended to omit them in the telling of the tale. If someone had once at a time seen it, they only saw girls, as if the lake had spend a lot of time trapping girls. Sure enough I managed to contact a hag that told me that the story of such a lake was known within the circles of female magic, but in these stories the lake was a place the wise mages resided, trapped with their knowledge in eternal slumber until a call from the world of the living would return them.
Apparently the lake promised different things to different people. For a which seeking knowledge a lake full of immortal mages ready to be awaken would be more enticing then what ever the boys in the countryside would find appealing.
By now I hope that the lake has been lost, but I must regretfully inform that I indeed found an entrance that is supposed to lead to it. Perhaps I can find the prove of the supernatural my mentor chased all his life, perhaps I will find dead bodies preserved by a strange twist of nature. I have prepared as best I could, to defend against spirits and the power of the gashes drugs. I do not expect to find death, but should I meet mine in a cave, at a lake, be warned.
if I, in full knowledge and trained, do not reemerge, hold back the daughters of magic if they attempt to follow me, hold back the lads that chase easy pleasure from following me.
Stomp out the tale of the lake if you must. For even if the truth of it is told, retelling will always reshape it back to how I found it. A fantasy to good to be true, a chance how ever slim with so high a reward that all danger chasing it seems worth it. A mystery that draws in people like me, that stumble upon a mystery and do not let it go. Not knowing about the lake might be the only protection from it. The tale is a trap, the bait is the promised, the hook the means by which the promised was amassed.
Flesh of War
Bio mass that envelops non-organic components to use them as bones and teeth. The thing this creates can only see through eyes they stole and integrated into their biomass. Maws without stomachs, metal teeth and bone of stone. A gravel pit turning into a sea of fingers. Feed it bio matter and it will be digested, give it something to work around and it will find a way to make it its bones. Lack of sight is corrected via spoor-hormone communication. The creature is Usocial, but every individual can act without the whole and build its own strain if need be. At first the flesh cried for its creator, than it cried for the king, than it cried for war and than its screams fell silent. In foundation custody it asked, why since the war was lost and the enemy is everywhere the king no longer rallies its creation to war? What became of the war? What of the commands, what of the worlds of flesh and the pits that would forever breed more soldiers from the rock? Than they asked how the foundation still stood and whether the insurgency had regressed. The flesh of war was sure that the foundation fell in the first few weeks of the war, was driven from earth by it and its kin, only to fight on as a shadow throughout the war, always a step behind. And then the flesh of war said that in absence of the commanders they would take the next best thing and obey the insurgency. That was the time when the undercover informant in the foundation caused a breach and escaped with the flesh to the insurgency.
Immortals graves overgrow
Meta was holding up the cube to his eyes. He could feel the hum of entropy, an eternal problem an eternal solution. After the end of everything this thing might yet be able to kill the world of progress while denying the silence its victory.
Meta saw it, the color was like a human might see a prisms. The insurgency had it wrong. They thought this thing made things uniform, when all it did was heighten the contrast. It was anti entropy, anti uniformity, anti-entropy.
Meta tried to glide into it. The world where only the harshest contrast mattered, but where shone a sea of colors the electromagnetic spectrum could not even dream of representing.
Meta could feel the thing trying to shatter his mind, like human minds might shatter when confronted with non-electromagnetic color, but the sandbox knight held.
Meta had hunted anomalies for to long to even say that this was the worst attack on his mind he had to withstand. He could abstract away the colors, force definition into a sea of grays until the world of electromagnetic color returned to his vision.
Meta thought about that other thing that had recently started to bother him.
6442
The cube tried to erase the concept of numbers and sequences from Metas mind, but here it was, something that needed other designations. As long as there were things other than meta these other things needed markers, and numbers were the easiest marker there was.
Meta was staring into the colors of madness, while he enforced his reality and the cube enforced its reality. In a world of information, what does it mean to scramble information?
Meta was never all knowing, but since he knew he did not know he would enforce him knowing. His mind would create the thing his mind was not allowed to know.
6442
Meta puzzled out more and more things that would kill the mind of all knowing beings, but his mind discarded them into the color of madness as soon as the concepts became known. For the time being Metas mid was a beacon of doom for all creatures that would know his current mental state. Only the fact that he himself might not know his own state kept the world from imploding into the colors of madness. The "white noise" was not truly immune to things that could kill concepts and thoughts and the more the noise swallowed the more the colors swam. Like a lake that was feed ice cubes. It would take a while to freeze a lake like white noise, but if you drop millions upon millions of reality killers into it, its temperature would lower towards freezing.
Meta was getting close. The concepts he developed were limited to what could be reasonably carved into carbon based material the size of earth, but still his mind had not tried all possibilities.
He build the puzzle to speck. 73% of knowing the whole needed to be strong enough to kill a lot of omnipotent beings.
Meta field the attention of others going towards him and recoiling upon the madness that was the creation of reality breakers and there immediate vanishing into the white noise.
Than meta had it. The metaphor of white noise froze over as it tried to dissolve the correct solution.
6442
Meta held 100% of something that knowing even for 73% should have been able to kill him in his mind.
Meta smiled as the other cubes came into his vision.
It was not a hum, but a screech as the lake of colors unfroze as its mass expended tenfold.
6-4-4-2
Meta watched as the pull towards non-information ripped apart one of the greatest infohazards in this new world.
6……..4……….4…………..2
Metas eyes beheld the beauty of an all destroying information disburse like a block of sugar dropped in the ocean.
9CCZ
He knew he had faced the challenge and won.
And with Metas eyes closing white noise collapsed back into its old shape, freezing by losing metaphorical mass and heating do to metaphorical compression.
— — — — —
Meta pocketed his white cube and opened ites eyes back to the world of the mundane.
- - - - -
He had won, full stop.
Metas little experiment did not go over well with a lot of beings on a higher power scale, but most that saw the experiment were wise not to prod into what kind of monster would kill omnicians in an attempt to learn about something. Or just to confirm something it already knew.
From nothing to page.
While serving the web I found the story of someone sharing a storie of theirs.
They leave watermelons outside of peoples doors when no one is looking to occupy a portion of there mind forever.
They wished they lived in a world where people randomly find watermelons outside of there doors.
Someone replied with:
Be the anomaly you wished existed.
I find that story and that saying compelling.
When I went to search for it I entered
"Be the anomaly you wished existed" into a youtube search and was recommended to talk to the suicide hotline as well as several very nihilistic videos and one minecraft recreation of a concentration camp.
The whole thing was so bizzar that this will now occupy my mind.
Do we life in a world where even contemplating to be different is a sign of selfdistruction or is the word existence so negative in the youtube algorithm that it eliminates all other context?
Just to make sure me and youtube where on the same page I searched
"Be the anomaly you wished existed watermelon"
Only the suicide hotline reminder vanished but the rest staid.
IO searched the web, but apparently the word watermelon attracts racism and pornography.
Guess the quot is lost to the wide web, so here I put it down.
Over all that I must guess that the guy that made this quot is now as much an anomaly that occupies your mind as the watermelon delivery guy.
I know the chaos insurgency is involved here somewhere.
Garbage in silver out
- some insurgents wonder about the financial situation of the insurgency after having heard about House of all and Devouring stones
- they decide to look at the process of Devouring Stones and find that it has been quietly discontinued
- the two start up the program again, since not even their boss has a reason to not use the money printer.
- After a few successful runs strange things start to happen in the base.
- Doors to rooms go missing and someone took a bite out of a wall
- The base goes on lock-down, something has broken containment.
- What it is becomes clear after a corps with liquid silver around its mouth gets discovered
- more and more members of staff turn into a zombie like state after the stone has infected them and is using chemistry to make them hungry
- under the influence of the dripping silver, substrain 5 more and more insurgents get infected.
- The zombies are now clad in silver armor and have started to organize themself
- in a large ditch effort the base is flooded with coolant
- the silver soldiers freeze
- and as there is no life left in the base the silver become dormant
- the insurgency loses contact to base 95 and declares it a total loss
- end of official insurgency reason why they do not use the money printer
Where do the Metas with the crazy ties come from, wasn't it always just mono-color?
She was not having second thoughts. She was with her thirteenth thought. Names had power, the mind had power, but this power should not be this easy. "He knows when you pray to him. He knows when you remember him. He can be what your mind needs him to be." These things might as well have described a personal god.
A man that in the span of few seconds has crumbled into dust before her eyes. He took that blow and had not even a second hesitation. She did not have enough faith in this specific god as the old man.
She knew the names of several angles and demons, had invoked them in ritual so many times. She could feel their magic powering the rituals, but never once had they opened there eyes to look at a mortal. Humanity did not concern itself with the day to day operation of their gut bacteria.
Her mentor was a far more powerful wizard than he had ever let on. Always messing up ingredients, drawing crooked runes or speaking ill of the recently deceased. He even used cracked mirrors. He had been an embarrassment to the tradition. But than non of the other members of their coven had raised a hand when the old ways were not working.
She knew a name and a description. He had said to avoid certain colors. Solid colors or their concepts would do more harm than good.
Never call blue, you can call any shade of it, mix and match but never use blue as a concept.
The woman lay on her back panting. How much damage could a ritual from an old fool do? There was not even blood or poison involved. Her eyes drifted shut for the last time, her soul desperately trying to fuel a fire that was just to large to be sustained with so little. A matchstick will not by itself ignite a felled stem. Her soul wanted it, tried to comply with the magic, but she had made the mistake the old fool had ever warned her of. She had not taken magic seriously. When her coven found her, she was gone and not to the spirits.
Yellow is not as hard on the mind. It will help you, it will aid you, but never shall it let go of your destiny.
A little girl surrounded by graves, a white gloved hand on her shoulder as it lead her a way from the ceremony, from the coven towards a car, never to be seen again by the people she should have called before calling magic.
Green pulls, it pulls and builds and consumes. For green is the fire in the wandering city and there was always room for one more in the city as it ticked and clicked on, towards a purpose mortal minds would not understand. For green was old, for green was far.
His body was never found. The coven thought he had simply left. But would he really vanish without his treasures. Small the pictures might have been, but he would not had given them up if he had the choice. What ever had taken him had not left him time to pack.
Red was a friend, but a soldier. A leader trapped in his own mechanization and ideas. A hammer strong enough to break reality. But when stepping in the paths of gods, mortals just might not wish for their wishes to be true.
They were all there. It should have been like old times. The graves were gone, they were happy. But when everyone was a construct how long could the originals hold? How long before someone shouted something about duplicates and the real tragedy just erased. The originals would not have stood for it and so there slot in replacements had not ether. The one shouting had left shortly after.
Gold, white, purple. Do not take the risk.
She for a last time recalled the old fool and remembered.
The two were sitting in their usual place, the new or old members of the coven having gone home for the night. "I would like you to meet him." She had at first not dared to ask, but he had offered. "Meta Wonderrat. A strange man. Maybe he is a species. So many forms, but under it all, there is always something larger. Black and white striped suit. Red eyes you can not quite focus on. I made the black and white zig, zag tie myself, including the blue dot, just to the center right of breast pocket. I wanted to know that it is my Meta I call, not just a Meta." A new patron had entered the establishment. She had not looked up. She knew just how the magic in the room had shifted, she would see him at the bar, site, tie and blue dot. She turned her head and looked into red eyes, at least that would be where eyes would have been.
"Interesting."
"Interesting."
She turned on her heal to find the empty room no longer empty. Black and white striped suit, with matching zig zag tie. The blue dot and the red eyes the only speck of color on the man.
She had never meet him before, only imagined that meeting with the old man. His only input had been explaining the process to her, not a demonstration.
"Am, I or am I not the old mans creation? My past seems to be made by you but maybe someone else. Interesting." She had made sure to build the safeguard in. This was not just her Meta This was also the Meta from a father she never had. From a coven she never had. But as the image before her became solid, so did come memories. She was not generating the pictures of her not alone, with a family that shared her interest. She had not just summoned a ghost from nothing but a name, but had remade her own past.
"Glad I could be of service. Now, lets get you that magic you were not sure of."
He knew, that should have freightened her, but she had stepped in in the path of a god, to get the god started. Shew would not stop now. "Welcome to the coven Meta Philip Wonderrat."
"Please Philip is just fine."
Always something deeper, always a Wonderrat.
"Philip it is."
Null-Line-Revision
There are few golden gooses in anomaly research. There were however many landmines. Inheritable anomalies were rare. If it was a recessive gen responsible even more so. If something is exclusively beneficial and dominant in genetics, it would eventually just be normal for a population.
Where many an anomalies were ether one offs, or became weaker the more removed something was from its divine/demonic ancestry, there were some that simply were not effected by how many had it or how long ago it got into the genpool.
The Foundation knew it, off cause. A species that had conducted more than one genocide had made it pretty obvious that there was something in certain genpools that was a determent to all others it was competing against.
The foundation had taken great care in getting the flying people off the clouds as soon as war efforts necessitated the sky to act rational.
The reptilian humans while well connected in modern society still not dared to call in a simple haunting from fear they might be captured.
There were several species of insects that needed to be burned down in operations against the rain-forest, for their ability to lay eggs in the dreams of other beings. Several snail species needed to be expunged for their ability to hover or create shells harder then steal.
A single human male can have off-springs in the hundred thousands throughout their life. If even every hundreds of these offspring would be anomalous the insurgency would jump on it. What they would not do is antagonize the ADAM of a new human genus and set him towards a vengeful spiral leading into the annihilation of an entire cell and perhaps the future of humanity.
If you can get him in his teens, just throw him with a bunch of woman in his age bracket and things will work themself out from there. If that is to slow or not enough, pay him for his services. Most gods of thunder or Ice might have already developed a god complex, but human hormones will even draw these demigods out of there shells.
Only in the last ditch effort is something that could be the next level of human evolution to be restrained and forced to cooperate. Even in such cases there needs to be a backup of dna and a kill-switch. Losing everything just because one raid brought down one facility should never be an option.
The line of null could have been powerful.
But someone had to antagonize his family.
Who ever thought torturing some of the greatest military assets could not with their life pay back what they cost humanity.
The line of null today has three members, and most of them still hate us and our methods for our treatment of their father and grandfather.
That is why when a demi-god comes to ask you for help, you do not immediately try to push them into a lab or a cage.
Protocols are in place. Because humanity could have been so much more, if no one had suggested holding a gun to on prisoners sisters head would have been a good motivator. It was. In that the whole cell no longer exists.
Red Blade Chess
You move a piece of your own color and can than move any piece on the board (own and enemy)
The game ends when one player captures the king of the color of the opponent.
Ether advance fast and neglect the enemy or advance slow and set back the enemy.
First played in a fantasy novel in which two powerful characters play it to predict the future of a coming battle.
While the two play one of the characters has rammed a sword with a red blade next to the chessboard into the ground.
When the owner of the sword loses the game after one of his pawns was miss-promoted, he tries to grab the sword to strike down his foe. He gets the sword out and cuts the chessboard and his opponent. His opponent dies assured in his victory.
In the coming battle the master of the red blade loses after one of his soldiers betrays him. When he lays dying he tries to grab his sword to continue fighting but dies before he can raise it again.
Rods of distant Shadows
9 for mortal men, doomed to die
Say, we do have the recipe, and these things do wonders for the longevity of things that should already be dead.
Why make rings when you can make rods that can be buried in the gut?
Few things remain after hundreds of years, from the body of mortals. Fewer still the number of these remains that still walk the earth. It is not darkness that shrouds them. Darkness is just what the mind substitutes for the truth. They are no longer in this world, for they have less live than a salt mummy. But after all that, they are not dead. They have less live than a single maggot,, yet still that hole in the world is alive. They are not like the undead, that crossed the threshold and clawed there way back. They are not like the true immortals that have the same amount of live whenever they are. For the shadows of former mortals still bleed life. Still dying every second more., but no more pain is forthcoming for life is pain. Only a few of the bravest souls of the insurgency ever reached to the realm between life and death. Most insurgents simply get some implant and never find out what it does until the day a bullet, a maw or a sudden chill would have ended their lives. For all these things still cost life, but as minuscule as their life can become, until someone dislodges the rod, they< will remain. But the rod is not as a ring on their finger. Not even a piece of metal to be removed like shrapnel. For the rods are like strings, they want to return to from once they came, but they are entangled with our world unable to let go. For the death of the life that binds the rods away from the distant shadow, does not free them, only entangle them further. Only a sudden tug can dislodge the rods. What can kill an immortal can free the rod, letting its host go free. But the far easier way is to rip the host from other life, so that the rod might drag the host back to its home. For the one thing these beings need to fear is still to die alone and surrounded by death. If a life was ripped to the rods home, the means of undead my still yet retrieve it, but if undeath is a mockery of full life, the mockery of live infinity thin is life to fat to contain. For few things are as bright in the world of the life, than a shadow made of ghostly white.