- Bacteria
- Bloodgrass
- Parasite
- Window
- Backstage
- Broken
- Bērzi
- Aftereffects
- Incursion
- Perspectives
- A House

Live sample of RCP-XXXX
Item #: RCP-XXXX
Object Class: Beta
Containment Protocols: Samples of the RCP-XXXX bacteria are to be kept in a standard security locker at Site-██. The walls are to be lined with polypropylene sheets with a minimum thickness of three(3) centimeters. Any personnel entering the vault of RCP-XXXX must adhere to Biosafety Level 2 procedures. All material remaining after testing is concluded must be neutralized via immersion in liquid nitrogen.
Description: RCP-XXXX is an anaerobic bacteria of the family Spirillaceae with an average length of 12 nanometers and radius of 3 nanometers. Through an, as of yet unknown mechanism, the bacteria infects all metals within the periodic table and causes them to take on the mechanical characteristics of nitrile rubber. The speed of this conversion depends on the position of the metal within the reactivity series with less reactive metals displaying the quickest conversion rate. Full conversion of one(1) kilogram of gold with a purity of 98.97% takes approximately 9 days.The conversion can be halted by cooling the infected sample to -40° Celsius, at which point the bacteria goes dormant. After conversion metals retain all their chemical and physical properties not related to mechanical strength. RCP-XXXX samples retain viability at temperatures up to 4396° Celsius and -157° Celsius.
RCP-XXXX spreads via direct contact with the infected metal. RCP-XXXX is capable infecting any specimen of the kingdom Animalia, with the exception of crustaceans excluding the Thecostraca subclass, through contact with the mucous membrane.
If left untreated in living specimens the illness proceeds through three(3) distinct stages with human subjects displaying one additional stage.
- Stage 1: During the first weeks of infection subjects appear healthy and continue to function normally. During this period the least reactive micro and macro elements within the body are converted. Infection in species without a calcium carbonate exoskeleton or endoskeleton becomes dormant after this stage and re-enters an active state only upon contact with an uninfected subject or metal sample. RCP-XXXX is resistant to all forms of treatment unless found within 32 hours of infection, during which it is possible to treat it with the use of large doses of Clindamycin. The average success rate of such a treatment is 38%.
- Stage 2: In subjects with a calcium carbonate skeleton symptoms begin to appear after four(4) to five(5) weeks as the calcium has been partially converted and the skeleton begins losing its structural integrity. During this stage subjects with endoskeletons are susceptible to bone fractures as the calcium carbonate has not yet achieved the flexural strength typical to the final stage of the infection and retains partial rigidity.
- Stage 3: After around eight(8) weeks all metals within the subject's body have been converted. Most mollusks and crustaceans with outer shells or exoskeletons are still capable of functioning normally, but within a natural habitat usually are consumed by predators due to lack of protection, thus spreading the infection further. Small mammals, such as rodents, can survive and spread the infection for long periods of time as the loss of bone rigidity is not necessarily fatal. Without intervention, bigger mammals are unable to support the weight of their bodies and expire due to dehydration, hunger or are consumed by natural predators. The conversion of teeth often proves to be fatal during extended time periods as it restricts the diet of the infected. After this stage, the bacteria goes dormant in all organisms.
- Stage 4: If a human subject does not expire after the conclusion of stage three for two(2) weeks they begin to exhibit behavior typical of depression. Within one week after the onset of these symptoms subjects will begin show disgust regarding their bodies and those other individuals. This is accompanied by attempts at self-mutilation, most often in the form of removing converted material directly accessible to them. In addition to this subjects often begin demonstrating aggressive behavior towards uninfected subjects. Soon thereafter subjects develop suicidal tendencies and must be restrained and force fed or fed intravenously in order to prevent expiration. During this stage, the bacteria remains dormant so it is unknown if the psychological effects are caused by it or are merely the side effects of the debilitating nature of the infection.
Addendum XXXX-1: RCP-XXXX was discovered in the [DATA REDACTED] mining town in Siberia, Russia, after reports of a widespread infection, unnaturally high suicide rates and infrastructure collapse reached Authority personnel. Upon discovery and identification of an unknown pathogen, a quarantine zone was constructed around the town. Currently, only █ original ██ researchers sent to [DATA REDACTED] remain.
Addendum XXXX-2: According to interviews conducted with the original inhabitants of the town the illness began approximately 5 weeks after a new tunnel was excavated at the ████ meter mark and [DATA EXPUNGED ] ore with properties consistent with RCP-XXXX infection was found. Exploration of the mine currently being carried out via the use of fiberscopes.

A specimen of RCP-XXXX in the wild.
Item #: RCP-XXXX
Object Class: Beta
Containment Protocols: Seeds of RCP-XXXX are to be placed in hermetically sealed bags and kept in a standard security locker at Site-103. Level 1 Biosafety procedures are to be followed when handling live specimens. Hosts are to be kept in unfurnished standard humanoid containment cells with full-spectrum fluorescent lights. Live specimen found in the wild and infested subjects outside Authority custody are to be terminated.
Description: RCP-XXXX is a flowering plant with an appearance near identical to that of Hypericum perforatum(St. John's wort). During the blooming phase, RCP-XXXX instances exhibit red lines emerging from the axis of the flower and spreading across the petals. This effect, however, can be easily overlooked as not all blossoms of the plant exhibit this appearance simultaneously. On a genetic level, however, the plant shares very little similarities with St. John's wort. Currently, no plants exhibiting similar structure have been documented.
RCP-XXXX instances exhibit accelerated growth during their vegetative phase, reaching their mature size in approximately within 4 weeks with minor variation depending on the soil nutrient level and cloud cover density.
The anomalous effects exhibited by RCP-XXXX become apparent in the case that a human ingests it or makes contact with its sap, thereby introducing it into the bloodstream. The sap causes the effects of RCP-XXXX, which progress through 3 stages, during which the physical structure and behavior of the infested individual are gradually altered.
- Stage 1: Germination All blood within the infested individual (hereinafter the host) is converted to the sap of RCP-XXXX over approximately 3 months, with its genetic material being incorporated into that of the host. Most bacteria within the organism begin dying off due to the rapid change to the internal environment of the body. The host exhibits no symptoms during this stage and the infestation is undetectable without testing the blood or tissue of the host. After the conclusion of this process, the infestation lays dormant until the amount of daylight in a twenty-four-hour cycle exceeds 12 hours.
- Stage 2: Vegetative growth During this stage the host attempts to increase its exposure to sunlight, consumes large amounts of liquid and displays geophagia, while its internal structure is altered. Chloroplasts develop in skin cells, allowing photosynthesis and causing the skin of the host to gain a green tint. If questioned, hosts claim the coloration stems from an allergic reaction or an illness. The precise cause for this change in the hosts mentality is believed to be the alterations to the brain structure and genetic makeup.The gastrointestinal tract regresses, leaving only the stomach to store and absorb liquids and nutrients. Waste material is primarily expelled through the pores, with soil being regurgitated after using up the nutrients within it. The respiratory system remains intact but is re-purposed to assimilate carbon. During this phase the host begins to show signs of mild congenital analgesia, as its skin becomes notably more durable and thicker.
- Stage 3-α: Blooming phase After approximately three to four months in Stage 2 and in the case of insufficient sunlight, water, and nutrients the host loses all signs of intelligence and cognizance. It begins seeking out a sunlit, well-irrigated patch of soil. Upon reaching such a location the host puts as much of its surface area into contact with the soil as possible. Thereafter it ceases all movement, while roots extend from its skin and burrow into the ground. Within 4 hours pedicels topped by flowers emerge from the skin of the host where not in contact with soil. After this point, the host's body functions identically as RCP-XXXX in its natural habitat. Seeds harvested from it show much higher resistance to adverse conditions than seeds harvested from a standard specimen.
- Stage 3-β: Blooming phase After approximately three to four months in Stage 2 and in the case of sufficient sunlight, water and nutrients the host enter Stage 3-β. Such hosts retain all their intelligence, but display changes in personality, becoming more extrovert and social. Stage 3-β hosts cause uninfested individuals to become more suggestible if more than 7 minutes are spent in their immediate vicinity, due to pheromone secretion. They often gather large circles of friends and have multiple partners. Stage 3-β hosts retain their reproductive capability and are capable of creating offspring. Such offspring are born as fully converted Stage 3-β hosts and in 80% of observed cases with a more effective pheromone. Spreading the infestation appears to be the main goal of these hosts. Such hosts mostly show an aversion towards violence, making capture and containment relatively easy.
Addendum XXXX-1: RCP-XXXX was discovered after a distress call was made by J████ A█████, an individual responsible for delivering supplies and ferrying inhabitants and visitors to the island of V██████, Estonia. He made claims of an illness affecting the residents of the island and requested the termination of all individuals on the island. Upon containing the infestation Authority personnel discovered the remains of J████, which showed effects of Stage 3-α infestation.
These hosts showed high levels of aggression once the purpose of Authority personnel became apparent, attacking the team. Due to this deviation from ordinary Stage 3-β host behavior it is theorized that communities consisting solely of such hosts causes them to develop significantly different behavior patterns.
Request to create a controlled Stage 3-β host community pending approval.

Pustule and spores of RCP-XXXX
Item #: RCP-XXXX
Object Class: Beta
Containment Protocols: Any infected colonies of Heracleum sosnowskyi are to be immediately disposed of via incineration. Reports of anomalous abilities near areas with a high amount of colonies in them are to be investigated. Affected individuals are to be taken into Authority custody for testing.
Description: RCP-XXXX is a parasitic fungus that affects the Heracleum sosnowskyi or Sosnowsky's hogweed. It affects all parts of the plant and spreads via spores and by remaining in the seeds of the plant seeds. In normal conditions, the spores can cause a minor fungal infection that is easily treated. Its anomalous effects manifest in the case that the fungus enters the bloodstream in conjunction with the sap of the plant.
The contact area shows symptoms consistent with the effects of the phototoxic sap. The fungus meanwhile enters and takes root in the brain. There it slowly grows a web of mycelium throughout the entire brain structure. Minor symptoms, like headaches, minor nausea, and loss of balance last for up to 2 months. Once the fungus has infiltrated all the lobes of the brain, the infected subject begins demonstrating anomalous abilities.
The first indication of the abilities is the accelerated growth of all plants and fungi withing a 6-meter radius. This effect increases in strength exponentially if the infected remains withing the same area for long amounts of time. Soon thereafter the infected begin to demonstrate minor botanokinesis which similar to the accelerated growth increases in strength over time.
The use of these abilities, however, causes the growth of the fungus to accelerate and spread to the respiratory system. If used daily the mycelium overtakes the brain within approximately 7 weeks. At this point, the lungs have also been converted and spore pustules begin to form within them. When they have matured the pustules rupture and release the spores, causing respiratory arrest and death unless immediate medical intervention is performed.
Addendum XXXX-1: RCP-XXXX was discovered after reports of people in the community of the ██████ village in eastern Lithuania acquiring anomalous abilities and subsequently expiring reached the Authority . Accessing the village via land transport proved impossible as a thick wall of interlocking trees had blocked the main roads. The village itself had suffered massive structural damage itself as the rapidly growing fungi and plants caused the accelerated deterioration of the infrastructure.

External view of the window housing RCP-XXXX
Item #: RCP-XXXX
Object Class: Beta
Containment Protocols: The room housing RCP-XXXX is to inhabited by individual agents of the Authority, each agent terminating their contract with the dorm after 20 days of use. An agent is to be stationed in each room adjacent to the one housing RCP-XXXX to prevent the occurrence of a completed WS event.
In the case a WS event is triggered, pedestrian and vehicle traffic on the street adjacent to the building hosting RCP-XXXX are to be shut down until the conclusion of said event or the maximum possible time the blockade can be maintained without anomalous incidents. The subjects directly affected by the event are not to be barred from moving onto the street.
Description: RCP-XXXX is an anomalous effect housed by the window of room 359 in dormitory 8 belonging to the ███████ University of A██████████. Any item that is disposed of by throwing it out of the window causes lethal injuries or begins an immediate chain of events that lead to lethal injuries to individuals on the street that RCP-XXXX is facing.
An item thrown out of the window will cause at least a single fatality in all cases. Individuals restricted from using the street become quickly agitated. If the street has been closed for periods longer than 4 hours, the number of people will reach a critical mass and initiate an attack on those restricting their movement.
Any window installed in the room begins to exhibit the anomalous qualities characteristic to RCP-XXXX. In the case no window is installed, the hole left behind continues exhibiting the anomalous effects. Any material used to close the window1 decays at an accelerated pace, leading to structural instability proceeded by the detachment of material and subsequent death of individuals by the impact of the material.
In the case the room housing the window RCP-XXXX is uninhabited for more than 5 weeks WS events begin to occur.
A WS event unfolds in the following manner. Every other Thursday at 1 a.m. two male individuals, studying at the Faculty of █████████████ in the aforementioned University, with a Blood Alcohol Content(BCA) higher than 1.1 make their way from the local nightclub – Four [DATA REDACTED]- to the dormitory housing RCP-XXXX. Any guard at the door will permit them entrance regardless of whether they are residents of the dormitory.

Current appearance of the room housing RCP-XXXX
They will proceed to room 359 and produce the keys required for their opening. In the case, the locks have been changed the key will have changed accordingly. At this point, the event can be interrupted and stopped. If the two individuals are persuaded to enter a different room for the night the event will cease. Attempts at physical subjugation invariably fail as both subjects demonstrate enhanced strength in the case of being attacked, and will attempt to enter the room as quickly as possible, locking the door from within. If the room is locked forced entry becomes impossible, due to the material of the door becoming resistant to all forms of damage.
If the subjects make their way into the room unimpeded they will enter a highly aggressive state directed towards the furnishings of the room. They will proceed to fling all furnishings within the room out of the window, resulting in a minimum of 4 fatalities, most commonly amidst the other students returning to the dorm. Impeding the return of these individuals is inadvisable as they will quickly become aggressive and demonstrate enhanced strength and durability in the case of confrontation.
The two individuals will invariably exit the room at 8.30 a.m and leave for their respective lectures. They will show no memory of the events of the previous night after their entrance into the dormitory. The room will remain inaccessible for two more days, after which all furnishings in the room will have been replaced with exact replicas, with minor changes over time.
WS events can also begin spontaneously during September and October, with a 47 percent rate of occurrence during the time RCP-XXXX has been known to the Authority.
If an individual takes up permanent residence in the room housing RCP-XXXX WS events will cease for 39 days. If the individual does not terminate their contract with the dorm before the end of the 39th day, this individual will enter the aggressive stage of a WS event directly. Once all furniture has been removed from the room the individual will attempt to reach the main building of the ███████ University of A██████████. If they succeed in reaching it they will move towards the Agriculture faculty, where they will attempt to attack the current dean. These individuals possess no enhanced attributes and can be terminated via ordinary means. If successful in attacking and killing the dean, an immediate chain of events causing their deaths begins. This effect bears close similarities to the primary effect of RCP-XXXX, as any action taken within the vicinity of the individual will directly or indirectly cause them to expire.
Deaths caused by the effects of RCP-XXXX are always filed as accidents and no further investigation is started by any city-based law enforcement system.
Addendum XXXX-1: According to the university archives, the room had been used by leading members of the student corporation “Cresco” prior to the expulsion of its leaders due to unnamed violations of the institution's rules in 19██. The anomalous abilities of RCP-XXXX are believed to have begun manifesting approximately a month after the expulsion of said leaders. Attempts to track down members have been met with failure.
Testing Log
Log Format
Test subject:
Dropped item:
Protection of test subject:
Test results:
Test subject: D-5935
Dropped item:Down feather pillow
Protection of test subject: None
Test results: While mid drop a seagull collided with the pillow, resulting in the tearing of fabric and release of the contents. Multiple down feathers became lodged in the trachea of the subject, which led to the asphyxiation of the subject despite the attempts of on-site EMTs.
Test subject: D-5937
Dropped item:Down feather pillow with strengthened fabric.
Protection of test subject: None
Test results: Upon being struck with the pillow the subject demonstrated a severe allergic reaction to the strengthened fabric, which led to rapid swelling of the trachea and subsequent expiration.
Test subject: D-5949
Dropped item:Down feather pillow with strengthened fabric.
Protection of test subject: Level A hazmat suit with protective ceramic plates.
Test results: The subject showed no reaction upon being struck with the pillow. After 5 seconds the subject collapsed. It was revealed that in place of the oxygen tank, a tank filled with pure methane gas had been installed onto the SCBA by accident, leading to inert gas asphyxiation.
Due to a 100% mortality rate in tests subjects and lack of new data, testing of RCP-XXXX is to be suspended indefinitely. -Dr. Henriksen
The man walks through a bare hallway. He holds a briefcase in one hand and a coffee in the other. He stops in front of the door, takes a deep breath and enters. A room filled with cubicles unfurls before him. The sound of pens on paper, the clicking of keyboards and a silent murmur washes over him.
He smiles.
He makes his way through the room, to a door with a small plaque on it that reads “William Cranford, Head of Accounting”.
The room behind it is in contrast with the one it opens into. Large bookshelves line the walls and a dark wooden desk dominates its center. William closes the door behind him and sets his notebook and coffee on the desk before sitting down and starting up the computer.
The nigh-prehistoric machine roars into life and slowly begins to boot up. He finishes the coffee and begins opening up file after file. Numbers dance across the screen.
William sighs in satisfaction. This is his place. The center of his power. Here he is above all. Security clearances and censored data mean nothing to him. He sees the new plans for a small site in Siberia, the repairs for a destroyed wing. Words can deceive in a thousand ways but numbers can only ever be true or false.
He begins his morning routine. He opens his notebook and the credit card details of the employees of the site. The notebook is filled with seemingly random words, phrases, and numbers. But to him, each one sets into motion a cascade of memory.
Oskar Leichtmann. 29. Research Assistant. Looking at his withdrawals it seems he has relapsed in his amphetamine use. Shame.
Hannah Saulkalne. 46. Researcher. Has begun visiting rather unique clubs during her husband's business trip to Norway.
Viago Silvester. 25. Researcher. Has recently begun to purchase sleeping medicine. Some sort of opiate judging by the cost.
William frowns. Viago, Viago… Ah yes. The one they brought in from Europe a year back. Why does he suddenly need help falling asleep?
He opens one of the drawers and removes the bottom. A thin, black laptop rests there. A gentle push of a button and it turns on in seconds. He opens Viago's file. If IT didn't lie there will be no record of anyone accessing it. The security clearance is low but the absence of information can speak volumes.
Viago was transferred to another site briefly it seems. The file claims he checked in regularly while there. Will looks over his credit card history again.
Ah. There it is. Apparently, he had been shopping in the city closest to his current Site almost daily. Quite a long trip for some groceries.
Now to find out what little Viago had been assigned to in that month, that keeps him from sleeping. William sends a short email. Within 20 minutes a man from Logistics enters his room and takes a stack of folders handed to him. A small slip of paper is hidden in one of them.
***
The young woman pushes a cart through offices and between cubicles. Folders are handed out and pleasantries exchanged. The occasional package finds its owner. A few pens are replaced. Stacks of blank forms are refilled and new sheets of paper placed on desks. Some smile at her, but their eyes slip away from her in moments. Nobody really sees the everyday things.
Nobody notices as Viago Silvester leaves his office for lunch. And nobody sees as a young woman with a cart slipping into it.
She’s quick.
Her eyes run across the room, taking in all details. She flips open a journal on the table before placing it back in the same position. She looks at the bookshelves lining the walls. The top of one of the books is bent slightly. She pulls it out and finds a small notebook, nestled in the carved out pages.
Every page of it is carefully photographed before being placed back in its place. A small device finds itself hiding in the lamp on the table, a sensitive microphone waiting for the slightest sound. The woman leaves as silently as she had arrived.
And not a single soul sees.
***
Viago mumbles to himself in his office and a maintenance worker listens in a break room. His colleagues pay no mind to their headphone wearing friend.
With each word, the mind of the researcher crystallizes before him, new facets revealing themselves as Viago mumbles more and more frantically. Something inside is broken. His mind is like a shattered mirror. Sharp, beautiful but irreversibly damaged.
He won't stop. There isn't enough left of him to stop.
The worker slips a small piece of paper to a passing man while returning to his work.
Wheels within wheels.
***
William looks at the items before him. The pictures, the brief transcript, and the man's file.
He sighs. Poor Viago. He calls for a janitor to empty his paper basket.
Another paper slip.
This time- the last one.
***
Viago returns to his office, sits down and takes a deep breath. Then it begins anew. Whenever his mind becomes free of distractions everything comes flooding back. Even with his eyes open the images feel crystal clear in his mind. Every second of it replayed again and again.
He begins grabbing the folders on his desk and rushing through them, words flowing independently between his lips as his mind goes in two different directions. After a few minutes, he stops. You can’t beat the classics.
He opens his laptop and begins working through the safeguards. He doesn’t need to be careful. The monitoring on this system is non-existent since it is assumed the ones who have access to it are loyal and sane.
Somewhere in the facility acid begins draining from a chamber. Now he has no other options.
Tick, tock.
Viago walks through the hallway. His face is neutral, but his eyes glow feverishly, a mild reflection of his burning mind.
Why did they lie?
It should've worked. It shouldn't be like this. He was supposed to forget. To return to work in blissful ignorance.
Why why-why-why does he still hear her? Why do her eyes still look back at him when he closes his? Why do they scream for something he couldn't give? It burns him, consumes him.
The alarm begins screaming when Viago’s halfway to his destination. He doesn’t think about his actions. A single thought, a single image radiates through every single corner of his mind. He quickens his pace. She’s getting louder.
He has to.
He has to.
She should have something, if not freedom then at least release.
A janitor is sweeping the hallway floor, not bothered by the sirens. Viago casts his eyes downwards.
He doesn't see the janitor stepping in front of him. He doesn't see the flash of steel. He doesn't have time to react before being shoved against the wall.
The blade is sharp, the attacker experienced and precise. Viago's heart begins pumping blood into his chest cavity. He tries to struggle and scream, but a hand covers his mouth and the world starts to lose focus.
Two other men in jumpsuits exit from a nearby door. They roll out a black tarp on the floor and Viago is placed upon it. Within seconds he is wrapped in it and picked up.
Only a janitor remains, sweeping up the dust and humming a song nobody remembers.
***
Viago had never checked in according to the database. No cameras had recorded him and his colleagues didn't remember seeing him.
A breach caused by a fatal flaw in the automated systems programming was contained with acceptable casualties.
The world kept on turning.
Another act is over. The technical crew rests.
Until the curtain parts again.
The implant sends a small pulse through my brain and I wake up in an instant. Shame it can’t do anything about the drowsiness. I get up slowly, groaning as I roll out of the massive bed. The blinds open as I walk towards the closet, letting in gentle sunlight. Lights turn on as I enter the closet, revealing the countless robes lining the walls. I randomly pull out one of them and return to my bedroom. Silver threads run through the fabric and tiny lights flicker as I put it on. Every move I make sets of a cascade of lights, making me look more like a one man rave than a religious patriarch. Doesn’t matter, they’ll love it anyways.
I enter the dining hall and sit down. A solid gold plate awaits me with a gray, formless mush sitting on it. I eat quickly, swallowing the flavorless paste without chewing in order to feel as little of the texture as possible. Despite my attempts it still makes me gag a bit. I finish my meal and take the plate in my hands as I walk to one of the intricately decorated cupboards. I open it and pull out a box constructed out of silver. I put the plate on top of it and carry it with me to the balcony facing away from the city. The balcony opens into a large pipe. I can see the sky when I look up.
When I look down I see the heart of a hollow God. It’s a long way down but I can hear the grinding of gears and a gentle glow emanates from it. I open the box and remove a bag filled with something of immeasurable value. That is to say of immeasurable value to me. I open it and shake some of the marching powder on the balcony railing, then snort it all like a vacuum. It hits me like a freight train.
OH FUCK YES! Now this is life. Everything come into focus and I feel my heartbeat going faster and faster. I take the golden plate and fling it into the chasm.
“Choke on it you bucket of scrap!” I shout after it.
Petty, I know but it helps me relax. I walk towards the second balcony. There is a small chamber before it, with a pedestal in the centre. Upon it sits a a circlet adorned with magnificent carvings. I place it upon my head and prepare myself.
I speak a string of numbers and the silence of my chambers is pierced by the roar of a thousand voices. I tune it out, turning it to a low murmur. I take one last look in the mirror, adjust my robe, push open the large doors and walk onto the main balcony.
The sprawling city unfurls before me and the cheer of countless people gathered in the plaza shakes the air. I raise my hand and send out a pulse through the crown, silencing them. And then concentrated bullshit begins spewing from my lips. Or as they would call it- a sermon.
I talk for at least half an hour before returning to my chambers, followed by the roar of the crowd. I place the crown back on its pedestal and fling my robe into the corner. My head continues pulsing from the echoes. I pour myself a glass of water from the jug sitting on the dining room table. I can hear the Orthodox beginning his sermon even from my tower. I grab a chair and head back to the inner balcony. I place it there and head after a few books.
I spend a few hours there, reading and smoking joints one after the other. I can barely understand what’s going on after the first hour. At some point I pass out.
I don’t like sleep. Memories come roaring back and I have to relive the cascade of mistakes that got me here. The original idea wasn’t half bad-create a temporary alliance between all three factions to deal with external threats. It worked spectacularly. One after another anyone opposing us fell. Me and my two dear friends usurped leadership. Since we had mostly organized the alliance there was almost no backlash.
We didn’t expect that we would be this efficient. We managed to crush the Jailers and retrieve the pieces. And here, in the middle of nowhere we reassembled Him. In the moment the last piece was put into place we realized our mistake. I felt it first ,as the song disappeared. His song, the thing I had taken as proof of his life. My brothers realized it soon enough. It grew, oh yes it grew, but once it stopped it did not move, it did not speak. We had His body before us and it was empty. The song I had taken for His voice had been merely an echo, constantly reverbing off of His pieces.
We had no choice. We couldn’t tell all the faithful that the struggle we had endured throughout millennia had achieved nothing more than creating a massive pile of steel and gears. So we set to work. Together we built the Throat and the Songmaker so the followers would believe, so that their God would speak. And after that we took it all. The world lay beneath our feet and we suddenly we were gods in their eyes.
So we built the City. Three colossal towers with the Spire rising between them. Three districts, each dedicated to one of the factions. And that was it. I don’t even know how many years have passed. I stole some items from the Jailers which keep me alive, but I’m starting to regret that. Oh, I won’t die. Now that I know He is dead I’m too afraid to cross over. There is nothing else left for me.
Knocking and a voice wake me up. ”Your Grace? Are you there?”
I mumble something incoherent back, raise the bag filled with white and inhale. There we go.
“Enter!” I shout and try to get up, getting a faceful of floor in the process.
I give up on that and climb back into the chair, attempting to look regal. Since everything is flopping about that’s a bit of a lost battle.
A …..person walks up to me and drops on it’s knees. I can’t see a single piece of flesh left.
“I have to gaze upon your magnificence. To witness true beauty before death.” It speaks in a monotone voice.
I can feel emotions swirling within my drug poisoned mind. “Very well my child.”
“I know the Guard will come for me soon, but I ask of you Your Grace, will You bless me?”
Drugs and resentment don’t make for a good combination.”Rise my child.”
I get up, my knees wobbling slightly. I place my hands on its shoulders and inhale. It lowers it’s head. I’m nothing more than flesh, but I’m still strong and I have the might of narcotics behind me. I push it towards the railing and throw it over.
It doesn’t scream, merely look at me with shock and confusion. The incoherent rage begins to fade once I hear the ringing of steel striking steel once it reaches the core of a God.
After a few attempts I manage to get up and pull out a joint out of the box. Then I begin my walk (mostly crawl) towards the Spire.

Pine trees affected by RCP-XXXX
Item #: RCP-XXXX
Object Class: Beta
Containment Protocols: The walls of RCP-XXXX’s containment chamber are to be lined with seamless steel plates. Humidity within is to be maintained at a minimum of 85 percent. In the case of failure to maintain it, the chamber is to be filled with water. Lights installed within the chamber must have a wavelength within the range of 500 - 570 nm. During spring months lights within the chamber are to be disabled and constant observation is to be maintained with infrared cameras.
Description: RCP-XXXX is an entity composed solely out of silver birch wood. Its body is similar to that of a canine, but lacking a tail and head. A structure resembling a miniature birch extends from its neck. While lacking any sensory organs RCP-XXXX possesses swift reflexes and highly developed spatial awareness. It’s 83 centimeters in height and 120 in length. If introduced to a high moisture environment the body of RCP-XXXX expands due to water absorption and causes it problems with movement.
Any organic materials exceeding a mass of 20 kilograms within a 10-meter radius from it become subject to its anomalous effect. Within 4 minutes the surface of these materials hardens and within 15 minutes begin sprouting branches. Once 20 minutes have passed they begin to take root. If RCP-XXXX remains in range the roots demonstrate the ability to burrow through most materials. In the case it does not, the converted material shows no difference to ordinary birch wood aside from remaining in their original form.
The anomalous effect behaves differently if a human enters the active range. No changes are apparent within the first 15 minutes. After this time period, the person finds movement highly difficult due to an advancing rigidity and tightening of joints, which causes them to stand straight. The further conversion process is rapid as the root system develops to that of a fully grown birch tree, while the person is fully converted and grows to an average height of 20 meters, becoming an instance of RCP-XXXX-1.
Those affected usually become panicked due to lack of control over their bodies and progressing numbness. This state subsides approximately after 90 seconds, due to lack of chemicals responsible for an emotional reaction, caused by the conversion bodily fluids into sap interfering with synaptic action.These subjects remain capable of spoken communication even after their jaws become too rigid to support movement, through a type of telepathy as no audible sounds have been recorded during this period.. These vocalizations subside in volume after the conversion is completed and going completely silent within 20 minutes. Minor vocalizations have been reported in RCP-XXXX-1 groves during windy conditions. Investigations into this phenomena are still ongoing
Physical interaction with these instances initiates the conversion process in humans.
RCP-XXXX will not attack unless provoked but will attempt to keep close to any humans it encounters, displaying behavior similar to that of an, amicable, non anomalous canine. If threatened RCP-XXXX is capable of extending the branches of the miniature birch like structure to discourage attackers. While not capable of causing much more damage than an ordinary birch branches, RCP-XXXX has a tendency to attack the face so caution is advised.
RCP-XXXX appears to highly enjoy being in the vicinity of RCP-XXXX-1 instances, often behaving in a manner similar to the one it exhibits around human beings. If given the choice between such an instance or a human it will invariably direct its attention towards the human.
If it is capable of receiving enough light during March and April RCP-XXXX begins flowering during May. Due to being monoecious, it pollinates itself. If allowed to develop seed it’s range extends rapidly at the beginning of August, with 600 meters being the greatest recorded radius. After three weeks in this state, the range recedes back to its original size.

Forest surroding location of retrieval.
Addendum XXXX-1: RCP-XXX was discovered after a string of disappearances occurred in ██████████, Estonia. While attempting to contain RCP-XXXX the agents assigned to it were converted to RCP-XXXX-1 instances due to lack of intelligence. MTF Theta-4 was immediately dispatched to the location and contained the entity.
Addendum XXXX-2:A log cabin was discovered within the immediate vicinity of RCP-XXXX’s location. Its effect had only converted the outer part of the cabin, with no growth observable within. An individual, believed to be ███████ ██████ was found within with a collapsed cranium. Birches within a 20 meter radius had collapsed. A translated version of her journal is available below
June 15th
Andrus visited today. He brought some soup his girlfriend had made. Tasted better than anything I’ve ever made. Told me about some big event ████████ is planning. Apparently, we’ve some important people coming. Weren’t we meant to be a brotherhood, not a business? I’m not going.
June 29th
Apparently the bigwigs ordered some projects.I don’t like it in the slightest but money is money. Andrus brought some books I had been sent to help with it from the post office. Olev got me the birch saplings. Can’t stand the damn things but what can I really do? Helped the along with growing. Touching them made my stomach turn a bit.
July 13th Finally cut them down. And thank God for that. I had begun having nightmares. Why did mom tell me that story when I was young? I swear every time I look at them now I get goosebumps. I know it was just meant to scare me into not getting too far away from her in the forest, but jeez.
August 9th Finished my project. I think they look quite nice. Was kinda hard getting them to make nests but they seem fine now. Olev picked them up and gave me my part of the pay. This should last me for a while.
October 9th
Went to Andrus’s wedding today. He smiled like a dope from ear to ear through the whole thing. Gave them a rose bush I cooked up from some mist and sugar. The flowers taste like cotton candy.
January 21st
Andrus asked me to be a godmother. Thought he was joking at first but soon realized he was quite serious. Hugged him and gave him some forest strawberries I had kept fresh. Hope Triinu likes them.
March 3rd
Olev must’ve gone a bit overboard in growing the trees. At least seven more have popped up now that the snow is gone. Makes me shiver.
March 30th
Damn they grow fast. I should call him and get him to sort this out. Cut the bigger ones down in the meantime. Started working on something for little Sigrid. Might as well put them to good use. I’ve still got quite a while but I want this to be perfect. Every little kid needs a pet and companion. Should help me take my mind off those things.
April 2nd
They’re already growing back. My nightmares are returning as well.
April 5th
There was a storm last night. I went down into the cellar, but even there I could still hear those branches creaking. I tried reaching out to the grove. When I touched them the fear flooded my veins like ice water. I can’t keep myself together for long enough to get to them. Olev still isn’t returning my calls.
April 7th
I can’t sleep anymore. I want to leave but at this point, there’s almost a labyrinth around my house.
April 10th
I can’t reach out and shape them. Can’t leave. Can’t sleep. Can’t call Andrus. The place is too saturated, he’ll get swallowed in it. He never was that good at this. I can’t get rid of the trees. What else do I have left?
April 11th
I should have asked Olev to make the things grow when he first brought the saplings here. I should have realized that doing it myself would leave a bond. Now they have latched onto fear and grow like weeds. Getting rid of the fear is the only way. Facing them won’t do a thing, I’m certain of that. Maybe I can try getting them out directly. I should check the books. There should be something useful in them.
April 12th
Okay. This should force the fear out of me and directly into the grove. If everything goes well it should start feeding on itself and collapse under the strain.
I think it worked. Don’t feel fear anymore and the birches seem to be disintegrating. My head hurts like all hell though. I’m gonna go lie down.

RCP-XXXX instances being cultivated for research purposes.
Item #: RCP-XXXX
Object Class: Beta
Containment Protocols: The illicit substance market is to be surveilled for any items with properties consistent with RCP-XXXX. Any distributors of RCP-XXXX are to be captured and questioned, before receiving amnestic treatment. Internet forums dedicated to discussion on illicit substances are to be monitored for individuals exhibiting the anomalous effects of RCP-XXXX. All individuals affected by RCP-XXXX effects are to be taken into Authority custody. Samples of RCP-XXXX are to be kept in a standard security locker.
Description: RCP-XXXX is a species of mushrooms of the Psilocybe genus. Its appearance is similar to that of Psilocybe cubensis, commonly refer to as cubes or gold caps. Due to its unique properties and genetic differences, RCP-XXXX instances have been given the designation Psilocybe apertus.
Upon consumption RCP-XXXX instances exhibit the same effects as ordinary Psilocybin mushrooms. These effects have been noted to last slightly longer on occasion. The anomalous properties of RCP-XXXX begin manifesting after the cessation of these effects. At first, these effects are indistinguishable from ordinary after effects of Psilocybin, mostly manifesting as mild changes in perception and difficulties sleeping. Once an affected individual closes their eyes, uncontrollable closed eye visuals (CEV) begin. During the initial stages of RCP-XXXX effects, while distracting, they are not in any way detrimental to a subjects psyche.
Affected individuals become unable to sleep due to the constant stimulation they receive. At first, the CEV are generally benign, most commonly manifesting as fractals or unidentifiable shapes and forms. However, their nature begins to change after approximately 4 hours since their onset
The CEV shift away from their prior focus and begin manifesting as more disturbing and detrimental to the affected individual. The content of the visuals often includes the graphic destruction or degeneration of the human body. The content of the visuals continues to become more disturbing over time, as well as the visuals manifesting during blinking. This results in severe insomnia and a large percentage of the affected individuals suffer mental breakdowns and begin exhibiting suicidal tendencies.If the eyes of an individual are kept open by mechanical means, the effects of RCP-XXXX still progress, with around a 40 percent increase in the speed of their evolution.
If an affected individual survives for 8 days after the onset of the effects, closing their eyes will begin to cause detrimental effects to bodies. These effects begin as minor cuts and bruises. As with the CEV, the severity of the injuries and deformations progresses over time. Rapid non-cancerous tissue growth is capable of regenerating most damage done by this effect. However, the growth is not limited to regeneration of injuries. It causes subcutaneous cysts, and as the severity of the injuries increases, the regenerated tissue begins to exhibit more severe defects. These include the regenerated tissue being different from the tissue surrounding it, such as bone being regenerated instead of flesh and often regenerating excess tissue. Most often the regenerative capabilities prove fatal if the individual has remained alive for long enough, as regenerating tissue in vital areas causes blood vessel or airway obstructions and death. 3 days after death new RCP-XXXX instances begin growing out of all soft tissues of the body.
Addendum XXXX-1: RCP-XXXX instances began appearing in the illicit substance market in 201█. Information of it reached the Authority due to individuals affected by RCP-XXXX seeking help in hospitals. Upon being questioned distributors of RCP-XXXX all referred to an individual going by the name of J████ as the supplier of RCP-XXXX. Investigations regarding the location of this individual are ongoing.
Addendum XXXX-2: An experiment was conducted by Dr. H████████, during which the eyes of an affected subject were mechanically kept open for 3█ days. When allowed to close his eyes the subjects spinal cord [DATA EXPUNGED], while the subject continued speaking. After this the subjects lymphatic nodes began secreting [DATA EXPUNGED], triggering a containment breach. Dr. H████████ was caught by the subjects [DATA EXPUNGED], causing rapid soft tissue growth and subsequent expiration. Before the breach was contained three more researchers were [DATA EXPUNGED]. The subject has been tentatively designated RCP-XXXX-A. Due to the nature of RCP-XXXX-A investigation into possible Sarkic cult involvement is ongoing.
A knock on the door roused William from his nap. He reluctantly rose out of his armchair and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
He opened the door. “Come in.”
The young woman entered while carrying a stack of folders, her office cart left outside. She closed the door behind her, threw the folders down on William's desk and collapsed in the armchair sitting in the corner.
“You would not believe the day I just had, Will.” She stretched her arms out above her head before settling them behind it.
William sighed and rubbed his eyes some more.” I’m sure I can’t.”
She pulled her legs up on the chair. “Could you at least pretend to be interested? And stop looking like someone just told you that you had to work overtime again.”
“Is that why you’re here? Jesus Christ.” He sat down at his desk and let his head drop to its surface.
“Well, not exactly. I wouldn’t come here just to torture you, now would I?” She grinned.
“Wouldn’t surprise me. Now could you just tell m-” The screaming of sirens cut him off. “Please tell me that’s not it, Dionne.”
“Sorry Will. No rest for the wicked.”
The piercing sound of the sirens did wonders for his drowsiness. Will took his notebook and began flipping through it.
“MCD, no. None of the churches, the Insurgency’s busy in Siberia and the Sarkicists are having one of their celebrations. Our friends seem to have arrived without an appointment.” He sat the notebook down, opened the drawer with the fake bottom and took out a sleek laptop. William turned it on and within seconds the familiar Foundation logo greeted him in all its drab glory.
One after another, footage from security cameras began flashing on the screen as Will’s fingers danced across the keyboard. Dionne got up from her seat and moved behind him, gazing at the screen. A few of the cameras on the outer parts of the facility went dead, but not before allowing the two a glimpse of the attackers.
“Doesn’t look like any of the usual customers.” Dionne leaned in closer.
William rewound the recording. “Indeed. Seems like the Foundation has made a new friend.”
“Any ideas?”
William smiled at her, drew a small pager from the inner pocket of his suit and pushed the single button on it.
The ring of a janitor began buzzing. A woman making minor repairs to a locking mechanism felt her earring vibrate. The bracelet of a technical consultant shook briefly. An unnoticeable wave of activity spread across the Site as countless tiny gears were set into motion.
“Oooh, how dramatic, Sir William.” Dionne began moving towards the door. “Any orders for me?”
“Just be you.”
“Oh get stuffed, you paper pusher.” Dionne flipped the account off while walking towards the door.
William gave her another smile as she left. He got up, walked to one of the shelves and ran his fingers across the spines of the ledgers, his hand stopping after reaching the one he desired. He placed it on the desk and opened it. In it, amidst the countless expenses of the Foundation, lay hidden the deals he conducted to keep this shadow world in equilibrium. Attacks on safehouses and Sites, agreed on beforehand. Deals to allow Foundation teams to attack and retrieve specific items. Mutually agreed-on casualty limits. Which individuals were about to defect, which could be used as moles. Everything sitting in rows upon rows of ledgers.
“Didn’t even have the courtesy to call beforehand,” he mumbled to himself as he opened up an account for their new associates, “where have good manners disappeared to?”
***
Carmine ran through the halls. The guards on the outer perimeter had barely managed to put up any resistance. Such a giant like the Foundation, brought to its knees just by him and his brothers and sisters in arms. He turned a corner and slammed into a cart filled with paper. He stumbled back and took aim, but the paper thrown into the air by the collision covered the movement of his attacker. Before he could react, a blade was driven into his thigh. Carmine keeled over as the pain washed over him.
His weapon was ripped out of his hand and he found himself staring into the face of a woman barely into her thirties, her red hair tied together in a single thick braid. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as the knife opened his throat into a leering smile.
Dionne leapt aside from the small fountain of blood and wiped her blade on Carmines jacket. She appraised the weapon. A Beretta 81 with some rather interesting symbols engraved along the side. Looks well looked after but a tad worn.
“How many?” A voice came from behind her.
“Four, so far. They seem to be moving alone.” She turned around and dropped the weapon into the hands of the janitor.
“No wonder. Thaumaturges don’t work that well if you put them too many of them in an enclosed space. Interference and all that.” He threw the weapon in the trashcan on his cart.
Dionne raised an eyebrow. “Thaumaturges?”
Two men in Maintenance uniforms arrived from behind the janitor and began placing Carmines corpse in a body bag.
The janitor nodded. “Oh yes. Apparently Lucilius ran into a Type Red.”
“Any thoughts on what they’re doing here?” Dionne began gathering up the scattered papers and placing them back in her office cart.
“Saw a few try to get the containment cells open on the way here. Doesn’t look like they know what’s in them.” The janitor looked at the two workers who were already finishing up with the body. ”Thanks guys! The incinerator should be ready to go and after you’re done with that head to the East wing. I left a few lying there.”
The two nodded and headed off, the body back on their shoulders.
“Then I guess it’s time to get back to work. See you around, Daumant.” Dionne quickly gathered up the last of the papers and headed off into another direction.
He nodded his head in goodbye and began mopping up the blood.
”Why does everybody always go for the throat? Leaves such a mess,” Daumant said to the empty hallway.
***
William was placing the ledger back into the shelf when he heard the door creak.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He turned around.
The air shimmered for a moment as a man and a woman seemingly stepped out of nowhere.
“Type Blue, right?” William walked towards the two.” Now whyever would you spend the time and energy to come get me? If you wanted to meet me so bad you could have ju-” Before Will could finish the sentence the man walked up to him and sprayed something smelling vaguely of lavneder in the accountant’s face. A bitter taste was all Will felt before the world plunged into darkness.
***
William was roused from his unconsciousness by a few slaps, his head feeling as if he had spent the last few hours trying to drink a brewery dry. A wave of nausea washed over him as he raised his head. What a pleasant day this was turning out to be.
The face of a clean shaved man was inches away from his as he opened his eyes. The pair who had taken him from his office flanked the man who William assumed to be their leader.
“Can you hear me, Mr. Cranford?” The man was squatting to get on William’s eye level.
“Loud and clear. Now if I may ask, what am I doing here and who might you be?” William squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments, waiting for the headache to subside.
The man smiled. ”Of course. I know of you from my previous employers. Apparently you are the one who takes care of all the dirty deals of the Foundation. The name is Ludolf.”
Will took a sidelong glance at his surroundings. “I wouldn’t label it so, but for the sake of this conversation, yes I am. Now, why go through all this trouble to get me?” He seemed to be outside of the site. Not too far though, if the sirens were something to go by.
“Oh, you are just a bonus. We are here to free our brothers.” Ludolf rose out of the squat.
“Your brothers? And who would that be?” William was stalling and trying to get the man to spill everything he knew.
“The Shapers, the Manipulators, the Evergrowing!” The leader of his captors spread his arms to the sides.
“Type Green, Blue and Red I presume? And I am here why?”
“Since you keep contact with all the big players, you have quite a bit of information on them stashed away in that head of yours. We’d like you to point us in the direction of the rest of our brothers.” Ludolf explained, the grin still adoring his features.
“So you’re some kind of liberation force? Jesus Christ what a bunch of geniuses.” William spat out.
“You disapprove of our vision?” This got to Ludolf, the smile beginning to fade.
“I disapprove of idiots. You want to make a nice little army of Greens, Reds and Blues. Good idea in theory, but you think you can put a bunch of magic-using and reality-bending, psychologically unstable narcissists together and convince them to fight for a righteous cause? Not that I’m not impressed by what you have done here, but yeah, go ahead, make Chernobyl look like a goddamn joke.” William finished his tirade and promptly got punched in the nose.
“Take him with us. We’ll get what we need out of him back at base.” Ludolf ordered his subordinates.
The two abductors flanking him moved to pick the swearing William up, but before they could reach him the sharp sound of an assault rifle pierced the air. Ludolf reacted near instantly, rushing up to William and pulling him to his feet. William found himself used as a human shield, a cold gun barrel pressed against his temple.
“Are you really gonna try this, friend? I’m an accountant for the Foundation. They’ll shoot with no hesitation. There are a hundred men and women working under me who could take this job within a heartbeat.”
The eyes of Ludolf frantically looked around, trying to find an escape path. He pushed William to the ground and turned to run, only to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
“Should I?” Dionne asked.
“Go ahead. The guy told me everything.” Will got up.
A single shot rang out and the man fell to the ground. Two guards arrived at the scene, both nodding to William and Dionne. The pair began walking back to the Site.
“Shame.” William began brushing the dirt off his suit and wiping the bit of blood dripping from his nose.
“How come?” Dionne looked at him.
“They could have been a nice business partner, if not for the rather delusional goals, that is. Acquiring humanoids would’ve gotten a lot easier.” Will took out his notebook and scratched out a few lines of text and numbers.
“Such is life? What are you gonna do now?” Dionne pulled her arm back and flung the gun still in her hand into the bushes.
“If I recall correctly, once the breach is over, one has to get back their job.”
“So you’re going back to sleep?” Dionne smirked.
“Oh yes. Can’t let them think I’m already done with my work. That would just mean more of the stuff. Does my tie look okay?” Will turned towards Dionne.
“As if anyone in your department cares. I’ll be heading to the cafeteria now. You want anything?”
William thought for a moment.
“Some tea would be nice.”
“Good, then you can come and get it yourself.” She swiped her card on the Site entrance.
“Why must you do this to me, Dionne?” William followed her through the door.
“Because everybody in Accounting doesn’t so much as let out a peep against you since you shouted at that poor guy until he cried .”
William scoffed. “Well, I had a good reason.”
“He wrote the wrong year on one of the forms right after returning from his New Year vacation.” Dionne said in a deadpan tone.
“Alright, alright, but it wasn’t that bad!” William tried to defend himself.
“He trembles like a leaf everytime you so much as enter the same room as him.”
“Okay, I get it. I’ll get my own tea.” Will raised his arms up in defeat.
They walked in silence for a few moments.
“The guy from Medical is going to defect, you know.” Dionne said as they walked past the infirmary
Will furrowed his brow. “Anzo?”
“Yeah, that’s him. What are we going to do?”
“Well, since he’s going to MCD… I say let him. If he’s useful I’ll bill them, if not, well, they’re going to do their usual thing. Win-win.” Will shrugged his shoulders.
“God, you’re a soulless prick. How come you’re not Senior Staff yet?” Dionne rolled her eyes
William let out a chuckle.” Oh, don’t get me started little miss “I spend more time with knives than people”. One would think you’d be quite high up on the list.”
Dionne laughed for a moment as well, before hooking an arm underneath Wills.
The two walked through grey hallways, the Spider and the Mantis.
The elevator is silent except for the distant humming of the motor. I take one last look at myself in the mirror before the elevator stops and the steel doors slip open. There are no decorations in the light blue hallway that unfurls before me. I walk along the doors, occasionally looking back at the small piece of paper in my hand.
Finally an apartment bearing the correct number stands before me. I take a deep breath and knock. The door opens after a few seconds and I find myself standing before him. He is wearing a white shirt with a gray vest and slacks.
A smile blooms on his face. “Ah, you must be Eldred. Please, come in.”
“Good evening, Mr. Cranford. It is an honor to meet you.” I reach out and shake his hand.
He returns it. ”Oh, no need to flatter me. Come, make yourself at home.”
I enter and hang my coat on the rack. The apartment is bathed in soft light and a gentle, warm aroma hangs in the air. I move deeper into the flat. Steel, stone and glass seems to be the theme here. Before I can observe it further Mr. Cranford places his hand on my shoulder and leads me to an adjacent room. A large table awaits us there, with the source of the aroma sitting on it. A large bowl of rice, garnished with shrimp. Multiple smaller fragrances bloom as we move closer to it. Three plates with utensils sit on the table.
“Is there anyone joining us this evening?” I look towards my host.
“No need to worry. This person is a close colleague of mine.”
I feel my muscles stiffen and my hand instinctively begin reaching for the inner pocket of my suit.
William chuckles. “No need for that now. They are my colleague in my, how shall we say, secondary position as well.”
“Oh, what a polite and tactful manner of explaining what you do Will.” A female voice comes from behind me.
I turn around to see a woman in a simple, black dress. Her scarlet hair is cascading across her shoulders, but her eyes are sharp and focused, drilling into mine.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you Miss..?” I offer her my hand.
She takes and shakes it. “Antje. And I already know who you are Mr. Jacinto.” I can feel old scars as my hand slides across smooth patches of skin.
“Now that the introductions are done, shall we begin?” William motions towards the table.
We sit down at the table and spend the following minutes in silence, enjoying the food.
William is the first to interrupt the silence. ”I trust Mr. Dark is well?”
I set down my utensils. “Oh, yes. He is deeply sorry that he could not make it, as urgent business in the Baltics demanded his immediate attention.”
Ms. Antje snorts. “Oh, I’m sure he is absolutely anguished over missing out on our company.”
William rolls his eyes and ignores the remark. “Baltics? I did hear something was beginning to stir up there. Wine?”
I shake my head. ”No thank you. Now, if it would be fine, I’d like to discuss some matters that require your attention.”
He sets down his utensils as well and picks up his glass. “Of course, of course. We can’t spend all evening just stuffing our faces, now can we?”
I hand him a folder. “We have recently unearthed some items in the Nile delta. However multiple of these items are impossible to market to our clientele. We believe your organization would be interested.”
William leafs through the folder. ”That seems correct. And the real reason you are here is?”
I’m briefly stunned. “I’m sorry Mr. Cranford?”
He sighs. “Why are you here and Dark is in the Baltics? If you just wanted to notify me on some mildly interesting items there was an abundance of channels to inform me through.”
I put the folder back in my bag and place a laptop on the table. “A group of independent individuals has chosen Marshall, Carter and Dark to act as an intermediary between them and you, as well as vouching for their trustworthiness.”
A disquieting coldness and a flash of hunger briefly appears in Williams eyes. ”I assume this group would like to open an account with me, correct?”
“Indeed they do.” I nod, open the video call and push the laptop towards William, a notebook already in his hands.
“Good evening Mr. Dark. And you I believe are my future associate. Shall we go over the basic terms you desire to include in our agreement?” William smiles.
The next hour is a mess of terms, agreements, limitations, assurances and so much more. The smile of Mr.Cranford does not waver for a second. As he passes my laptop back to me, a muffled crash is heard from outside the apartment.
Ms.Antje pulls my attention away from it. “Don’t worry, someone probably dropped their groceries or something.”
I gather up my belongings and say my goodbyes. The cool air in the hallway washes over my face and I feel a massive pressure, that I didn’t even know existed, lift from my chest. I met with the man himself. I still can’t quite believe he exists. I button up my coat and turn to walk back to the elevator.
Two men stare back at me, a third one lying on the ground, his neck twisted. One of them raises a finger to his lips, a silent whirring of gears accompanying the gesture. Then he points at the apartment I just left. He and his partner lift up the body and quickly leave.
I walk to the elevator, ride down and get back in my car. Within 20 minutes the city is behind me.
***
I disassemble my rifle and close the blinds. I switch the light on and, as the brightness fills the room, squeeze my eyes shut. When they are finally adjusted I walk to the kitchen and throw some leftover soup on the stove. Every time the same thing.
A highly important representative comes, they have dinner, they make whatever twisted deal they have and the representative leaves in peace. I know I should be happy never to have to take the shot, but one does start feeling useless after a while. The Tickers in the hallways have no problem dealing with whatever comes their way. If anything makes it that far.
I finish my soup and go to sleep. Same old, same old.
At least I can get up late in the mornings. But then it’s just a routine- eat, work out, clean weapons and go to the market.
The plaza is quite full today, people flowing through it like a river. I greet some of the people running the stalls and begin my shopping. Carrots, meat, artichokes for that new dish. I hum underneath my breath while moving through the river of people. I hear the sound of clockwork as a man in a grey suit passes me. While I know there is no threat my body tenses up and my senses kick into gear. All of them are suddenly visible.
A group of teens in baggy clothes just on the edge of the plaza. I know that underneath the fabric hides a thing that would send most people running in panic. A woman buys some potatoes and as she reaches for the bag handed to her by the vendor the sleeve of her jumper slides back just a bit and the top of a tattoo becomes visible. I see a glimpse of of multiple snakes forming fingers.
These are only the tip of the iceberg. Some of them never leave their homes, some of them aren’t even visible. Every single one dedicated to a united cause.
Honestly this place probably has more occult firepower stashed in it than any of the headquarters any group has. And all just for the protection of a single man. Admittedly, there is some justification- quite a few don’t like the idea of their comrades being slaughtered because an accountant decided they would be a fair trade in exchange for an anomalous hamster.
And lookie here, there goes one. They walk differently than the rest. More caution, more awareness of their surroundings. They are trained to look relaxed in these situations, but you can see even that with enough time to look and the right kind of eyes. And mine are just perfect for the job.
I walk through the market, homing in on the middle aged woman, her prematurely gray, short hair allowing me to easily track her through the crowd. Her gait changes soon, as she realizes I’m following her. She begins moving towards an alleyway.
I smile. Finally some fun. I follow her into the cool shadows.
She comes to a halt once she is certain nobody will be capable of hearing or seeing us.
“You could let me go.” She turns to face me, her face neutral. I can see the small beads of sweat on her forehead.
I nod. ”Yes. I could. But then somebody else would get you, and I guarantee to you, that most of the other ones around here have some quite unpleasant methods of dealing with insurgents.”
“You could join me.” I see her hand begin to slowly move behind her.
“I prefer my organs inside me thank you very much.”
She moves quickly and manages to fire off two rounds, both aimed towards my head. I raise a single hand in front of me while swiftly moving towards her. Ringing fills the alley, as bullets strike steel.
Before she can react, I move in and grasp her head in my palms. I twist and just like that it is done. Her body drops to the ground. I exhale and relax my body.
“Do you need help?” A low, slightly rough voice comes from behind me. Every organic and inorganic strand of my being tenses up once more.
I turn to see the “teen” in the baggy clothes and hoodie.”Well she’s kinda dead, so I don-”
“Disposal.” It interrupts me and removes its hood.
“Oh. Yeah, go ahead.” I quickly walk past it and head back to the market. I don’t really want to see what disposal involves. I’m not fast enough though and some noises reach me.
I get my groceries and look back at the thing one last time. It’s back with its friends and looks bigger than before. I head back to my apartment. I spend the rest of the day reading and cooking. Admittedly, what I did to that artichoke could be classified more as a war crime, but at least the pork chops turned out alright.
I’m sitting by an open window, reading, letting the gentle breeze to wash over me when I notice somebody on the street. The man is moving with haste, heading towards the apartment complex opposite to mine. I’m quick, but not quick enough. He is inside before I can assemble my rifle. I curse underneath my breath and aim my sights towards the apartment of the accountant himself.
I close my eyes and recite a string of numbers. When I open my eyes the world is green and I can see the interior of the apartment quite well. Thank God for his massive windows. My hands are steady and my finger is on the trigger.
After a few minutes I see him once more. He’s gotten past the Tickers. I exhale and aim. Before I can pull the trigger another figure enters my sight. Before the intruder can react this one swiftly drives a blade into his calf and knocks him on the floor. Is that…? Ah, the accountants fuckbuddy or whatever their relationship consists of. Judging by some of the things I’ve seen, I’m leaning more towards the first with a dash of romance. I watch for a few more seconds while she zip ties the intruders arms and legs. The accountant himself enters the room carrying a chair. Together they get the intruder on it.
The accountant walks over to the window and waves to me before mouthing “Thanks” and closing the curtains.
I disassemble the rifle and return to my book. Maybe I should try the artichoke again tomorrow?
***
Edwin groaned in pain as the blood seeped from his leg. A light turned on and he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Wakey, wakey, friend.” The voice of William caused him to open them again.
Dionne and Will were standing in front of him, the latter smiling at him.
“Now, I am impressed. You made it all the way here. I mean if Dionne hadn’t been here our friend from the opposite building would have repainted the carpet with you, but other than that good job!” William approached Edwin, who was simply staring at him. Dionne turned her attention to something on her phone.
Will frowned. ”Nothing? No raving, no death threats, not even some spitting in my face? Okay, I guess we’ll just go ahead. Who did you work for?”
“The Fifth Church.” Edwin raised his head slightly to look at Will.
“Bullshit.” Wills frown deepened.
“The Factory.”
“Utter bullshit.” Will drove his fist into Edwins solar plexus.
Edwin gasped for a few moments before speaking again, his voice filled with pain.”MCD.”
Williams brow furrowed. ”Something’s wrong.”
Dionne looked up from her phone.”What is it?”
“Look at him. He’s good enough to get all the way here, but can’t take a beating.”
Dionne moved towards Edwin and lashed out with full force, her fist connecting with his nose. The man howled in pain, tears beginning to streak across his cheeks. Dionne looked back at Will, concern in her eyes.
Will pulled out his wallet and motioned for Dionne to come to him. She walked back to the man and stood next to him. He removed a small card from the wallet, keeping it face down before turning it towards Edwin.
The man froze for a few moments before beginning to tremble. His pupils dilated and blood began dripping from his nose. Will swiftly placed the card back in his wallet.
“Will?” Dionne looked at him.
“Yeah?”
“What was that?” She spoke with some fear in her voice.
“Had a researcher in memetics whip it up for me in exchange for moving some numbers around so they get some extra funding. It’s pretty basic, but it gets the job done. The order is simple- say what you can’t say. Usually it works based on your own perception. Makes you say some secrets or something very embarrassing.” Will returned the wallet to the pocket of his suit.
“Two questions. Why didn’t you just use that and why did our guest start doing that?” Dionne walked closer to Edwin again, the man slowly recovering.
“No precision. He could’ve started telling us about some childhood secrets.” Will moved closer as well.
“He has some weird secrets by the looks of it.”
“If I’m correct he did that because he has a geas on him. The card tried to make him tell whatever was behind that geas. The geas resisted. Started a loop for a moment. Conflicting commands. Started boiling his brain.” Will lifted Edwins head by his chin and opened one of his eyelids
The man was moaning softly in pain, blood staining his sclera.
“Any ideas?” Dionne placed a hand on Will's shoulder.
“Call somebody to get him. I’ll take care of it.” He didn’t look away from the eye.
Dionne nodded and walked towards the other room.
Will pulled out small box from another pocket in his coat. A small syringe lay within it. He took Edwins hand and gently pierced the man's skin before pushing down on the plunger. Edwin went limp within seconds and William heard his breathing getting more and more silent.
After a few minutes two forms in robes knocked on the door. William led them to the body and watched them carry it away.
Dionne came back into the large room after a while, seeing William standing before windows, the curtains draw back. He blew out a puff of smoke and Dionne felt the unmistakable scent of marijuana in the air. She wrapped her arms around his midsection and placed her head on his shoulders.
“What is it?” She asked in a soft tone
“I don’t know why he was here. I don’t know who sent him. This wasn’t his choice. A lot of things.” William shook his head.
Dionne took the joint out of his slightly shaking hands and taking a long drag of it.
“Morality? From you?” She spoke gently
“One should at least have a choice. I’m not sure whether he was even really a part of any group. I think whoever did this just randomly chose him, put him under a geas, probably something more as well, and let him loose.” Will interlocked the fingers of one of his hands with Dionnes.
They stood in silence for a few minutes, the smoke swirling around them.
Dionne was the first to speak. “At least you have something in you that still cares. Got to be worth something.”
“I suppose.”
“Let’s go to bed?” Dionne grasped his other hand.
“Yeah.” Will nodded.
Neither of them let go.
Few sights match the gray spires of Diagara, their very tops shimmering even during the cloudiest day. Once can see them from great distances, as the land flattens around it to make agriculture easier- one of the countless feats performed by the Triarchs. I walk on the smooth stone roads leading to the city, the men and women tending to the fields greeting me with the occasional wave. Children keep their distance, but I can see the wonder in their eyes.
My robes shimmer with every single movement I make, light dancing around me. The sound of distant singing from the fields reach me, the tune feeling like an old friend despite my minimal understanding of the local tongue. A smile tugs at my lips and I whistle along.
I arrive before the gates during sunset, the spires reflecting and intensifying every ray of the slowly sinking sun. The drawbridge is massive, made out of a single piece of oak. The guards standing before the entrance of the city tower above all who pass into the city, their armor intricately decorated with images of battles long past. I approach one of them and in my broken speech attempt to ask for directions to an inn. A pair of magnificent green eyes peer out of the helmet, taking in every single detail about me, before words sounding like a cascade of tiny bells pour out between the guards lips. I can’t speak the tongue very well, but I can understand it just fine. I thank it and head into the city.
Despite it being evening, the city is alive with activity. Countless smell permeate the air and the enchanting speech of Diagara flows through the air. I move through the stream of people for some time before reaching the inn.
Its interior is quite silent, a few citizens sitting around massive tables. I walk to the owner and haggle with him for a bit before agreeing on the price. I spend an hour sitting at a table, slowly sipping a drink made from birch sap before heading off to my small room.
***
The morning arrives gently, as I lay in the bed, floating in a soft haze, before getting up. I put on my robe and take my only piece of jewelry out of my bag. The thin, black circlet rests gently upon my head as I head towards the very heart of the city. It is not long before I stand before the greatest spire of them all, it's doors dwarfing me. I ascend the steps towards them and speak to the guards. I explain my purpose to them as well I can. One of them heads inside, leaving me to wait with the other. You can’t tell what is within that armor for it covers every single inch of flesh, allowing only those radiant eyes to shine through the slits in the armor.
I know what is inside. I’ve seen it on the battlefields on the Daeva borders. They do not bleed, only crumble once their form has been battered beyond repair. Created by one of the Triarchs as one of the walls against the world.
The other guard returns and motions towards the great door. I enter, the guard guiding me. We ascend multiple flights of stairs before reaching another massive door. This one is forged out of iron. The guard motions towards it and leaves. I take a deep breath and head towards it.
It opens easily, the craftsmanship of Diagarans showing. A large hall unfurls before me, a stone table sitting in the middle of it, three figures sitting by it, their eyes on me. I kneel.
“I greet you, great Triarchs, unparalleled rulers of the Shimmering City.” I speak in my rough Diagaran.
“Rise Walker.” The one sitting in the middle smiles while speaking in Daevite.
“Approach traveller.” The one on the left speaks, its voice like a gentle breeze.
I walk towards them and finally behold their appearance. The one in the middle- Zaltiris- is garbed in black, his eyes a light gray. He is the Builder, the crafter of the spires and the guards. Stone flows like water beneath his finger is he wills it so. All craftsmen are underneath his protection
He is flanked on the right by Marakla. She rules over the lands, her favor brings in the great harvests, which supply the city. Mothers ask for her favor and none are denied. She radiates life, her auburn hair cascading down to the ground.
On the other side is Laimgara. It is hard to keep your eyes on her, as she never seems to truly be there. She flows in and out of focus, yet I can see a kind smile on her thin lips. She is the Strombringer, the Great Weaver. Her name is a curse on the lips of the Daevite soldiers.
“Now whatever does bring the great Walker here?” Marakla leans forward.
“I have come merely to gaze upon the glory of this colossal city.” I try not to look at them directly.
“Lies little Deavite, lies.” Laimgara whispers into my ear. I feel my muscles tense up as I feel her breath on my neck. Her seat is empty.
“We will allow it once. Now tell the truth.” The gaze of Zaltiris bores into me.
“I did not lie, my lords. I have come to see the spires of Diagara. There are merely other circumstances that coincided with my departure from the south.” My voice is starting to tremble slightly.
“The rise of the Slave King?” Marakla raises and eyebrow, a smirk adorning her features.
The stress is getting to me.”Y-Yes your grace.”
“How far behind you is he?” The gaze of Zaltiris is unwavering.
“A few weeks, I believe.”
He nods. Laimgara returns to her seat.
“Thank you Walker.” Zaltiris gets up slowly. He easily towers above me. ”I believe you didn’t request an audience just to meet us. What is it that you desire?”
I take a deep breath. “I have come to seek refuge behind the walls of Diagara.”
“Many cities lie between Diagara and your lands Walker. Why hide behind these walls instead of the others?” Zaltiris tilts his head in question.
“I saw him. They will fall. The Daeva will crumble before him.” I bow my head.
“And we won’t?” There is a certain smugness in Maraklas voice.
“You are not truly men. He can’t touch you as deep.”
Zaltiris nods. “Very well. Now Deavite, make us trust you.”
I steady myself and reach into a pocket deep within my robe. I hand the small wooden box to Zaltiris. He opens it slowly. His brow furrows. He removes the pendant and examines it. His eyes widen and within a second his hands are wrapped around my throat.
“Blasphemer! Desecrator! FILTH!” His voice drives itself into the deepest crevices of my mind as I feel blood beginning to flow out of every orifice of my face.
“Look at me Slave King!” He releases his hold of my throat and grabs my head.
He holds it in place as the two pitch black eyes drive their gaze into mine. “Come Ion, march to Diagara! Your armies will crash against its walls like waves! I promise you , Usurper, you will not walk away from the valley whole!”
Then it is finally over as darkness washes over me.
***
Many leagues away a man jolts from what appears to be sleep. He sighs and slowly rises up from the large chair, his body seeming alien for a few moments. An unknown fluid trickles down his face. He raises a finger to wipe it away. It comes back pitch black. He licks it. Something that might be a smile rises to his lips.
He summons one his followers. ”We keep marching. Rouse the camp.”
***
Zaltiris rises and dusts off his robe. Marakla makes a vague gesture towards the form lying on the floor and watches as it quickly turns to ash.
“So, what is our course of action?” She directs her question towards the man in black.
“We don’t exactly have many options. The Slave King marches upon us. We fight or flee.” Zaltiris returns to his seat.
Laimgara grins. “So in other words we have only one option.”
“Indeed.”Zaltiris nods.”Could you go order the citizens to evacuate? I’ll start fortifying the defenses.”
Her brow furrows.”What do you mean evacuate? We need everyone capable of wielding a blade on the walls.”
“What good will it do? Delay the monstrosities Ion commands for a few seconds? Give them a light mid battle snack?” Zaltiris snaps at her. “We will face him and we will make him regret ever marching upon Diagara. Now could you please go and order the citizens?”
She looks at him in silence for a few moments before rising from her seat. ”Of course.”
The two remaining in the room sit without saying a word for many minutes before Marakla speaks in a gentle tone. “We’re not getting through this, are we?”
“Not in the way we are now. Not whole.”
***
The army poured into the valley slowly, appearing from afar as a mold creeping across the landscape. No camp was constructed, the horde marching without rest towards the high walls of Diagara. A man standing upon a large carriage drawn by six horses raises his hand in the air, bringing the army to a halt upon noticing the dark figure standing upon the walls.
A voice roars across the field.”Welcome Ion, to the great city of Diagara! We are willing to offer you a deal.”
Ion gazes at the figure in black and speaks.”Then say it, and we will offer you our answer.”
“Leave. Turn around and march back south. Forget the spires of Diagara and you will walk out of this valley whole.”
Ion sighs. “Unfortunately your deal is not satisfactory to us. However, we have one to offer as well. Show us where you locked away your brothers and sisters, show us where you sealed away the old gods of the North.”
Zaltiris laughs from atop the ramparts.”And let you enslave them as you enslaved the Dragon? No, Usurper.”
“Then it appears my choices have run out. I will be forced to take that knowledge in other ways. March!”
The army moves as one, moving towards the walls, with ladders being carried by those in front.
Zaltiris leaps from the walls towards the army, his black robes giving him the appearance of a bird in flight. He lands close to the army. He doesn’t look quite right- his skin seems to be pulled too tight over his face, his mouth open in a grin, revealing rows of teeth not belonging to a human. He towers across the soldiers. His right hand holds a spear, its blade almost the length of an ordinary sword.
The army barely has time to react as he rushes into their lines, the spear painting arcs of blood in the air. They slash at the attacker, but their blades only find empty air or billowing robes as one of the triarchs spreads death through the lines.
Amidst the fighting few hear the sounds of the gates swinging open. The inhuman guards of Diagara flow out of the city, their steps in perfect unison. It doesn’t take long for them to slam into the panicked lines and join their creator and master in battle. Blood paints their armor scarlet.
The soldiers and creatures further back aren’t spared either. Explosions of lightning and ice begin, as thin bolts of light stream down from the overcast sky. Upon looking up one can barely see a figure dancing amidst the dark clouds, followed by a trail of lightning. With their eyes in the sky they fail to notice the earth beneath their feet becoming soft and malleable. The more heavy creatures of the army begin sinking.
The culprit for this is soon found. On a hill to the right of the army stands Marakla. She is not quite as she used to be as well. She seems too… there. While Zaltiris appears to flow like mist through the army, bringing death with him and Laimgara seems almost see through, Marakla is like a pillar of unshakable reality. Some soldiers attempt to rush her, only to find their lungs filling with soil and mold growing within their eyes.
The battle continues for a few minutes, until Zaltiris suddenly freezes in place. A dagger is sticking out of his throat. The world goes silent. He raises a hand to it and yanks it out with barely any effort. He looks at Ion, the God Killer, standing upon his carriage, another blade already in his hand.
Zaltiris rushes towards him like a whirlwind of darkness and blood. Even Ion barely has time to react as he finds himself standing with the triarch behind him. The jaw of Zaltiris unhinges and he attempts to drive his teeth into Ions throat. The Grand Karcist manages to move slightly out of the way, causing the teeth end up in his shoulder. He attempts to strike Zaltiris, but the man in black manages to jump out of the way. Blood mixed with a black fluid runs down Ions back.
The two other triarchs do not waste this moment of weakness. Laimagra rushes down from the sky, her fingers appearing more like talons. She drives them into Ions back and tears downwards. Marakla is not far behind as she appears to rise out of the earth and fling a thin dagger which buries itself in Ions calf.
The battlefield is silent as all eyes are turned towards the bleeding god. Then, the triarchs are flung backwards as wave of pure power punches into them. The three get up slowly, blood dripping out of their ears as Ion begins to speak.
“I will grant you one more chance. Say where they are and I will not take the answer by force.”
Zaltiris spits out teeth and blood.”Go ahead. Try.”
The wounds on Ions flesh are already closing.”If you choose so.”
The world goes black for the triarchs as the vast being that is Ion invades their mind. From the outside all four are frozen for a few seconds before Ion begins screaming.
Zaltiris shouts towards Marakla.”Get us out!”
The triarchs sink into the ground.
***
The three sit together in a small forest clearing, the ground around soaked with blood.
“Did we do it?” Laimgaras voice is weak.
“I think we did.” Marakla answers.
“What should we do now?” Laimgara gazes at Zaltiris.
The black hides the blood on his robes.”Sleep. I think we should sleep.”
***
Three nights Ion screams. At the end of the third he rises once more.
“We march back south. The triarchs are gone.”
No soldier looks in his eyes, but if they did, they would find that the fervor which raised the countless followers is nowhere to be found. The man named Ion is gone.