#what is OXA?

[speaker-of-the-void-cats]

"What is 'OXA,' and who was 'MSund12'?

Those are questions for another day NOW.

"My father named me for a star," I say. "Nothing to do with war." "Yes. But the star Caiatl was named for a myth. Not an old homeworld myth, either. A myth from the Age of Sails, when we conquered the stars. Surely you know it, assuming that you've been briefed on the OXA?" "The Odyle Xenotaph Anarchive. Sometimes OXTA, depending on how you construct the acronym. The alien oracle that led us to the graves of Aark." Must be wary, now. OXA is a Psion myth, and the Psions are a sensitive topic. My father wants to free them from bondage. "It claimed to record the story of the galaxy, and to prophesize what may yet come." "A black box for galactic civilizations, if you prefer it in pilot's terms." The Evocate-General nods to the pin on my right pauldron. I am conscious of my shaved-down tusks, of the sores left by the fighter's interface. "The doomed and the damned left the record of their downfall in the OXA. Your star got its name from the oldest myths in that archive. And when your mother told your father that story... the star became your name. A prayer that all will go as it must... and the way it must go is struggle."

Odyle 

:a force or natural power held by some to reside in certain individuals and things and to underlie hypnotism and magnetism and some other phenomena

Xenotaph

:a tomb or a monument erected in honor of a being or group of beings whose remains are elsewhere

Anarchive

1) The anarchive is best defined as a repertory of traces of collaborative research-creation events. The traces are not inert, but are carriers of potential. They are reactivatable, and their reactivation helps trigger a new event which continues the creative process from which they came, but in a new iteration.

2) Thus the anarchive is not documentation of a past activity. Rather, it is a feed-forward mechanism for lines of creative process, under continuing variation. 3) The anarchive needs documentation – the archive – from which to depart and through which to pass. It is an excess energy of the archive: a kind of supplement or surplus-value of the archive. 4) Its supplemental, excessive nature means that it is never contained in any particular archive or documentation element contained in an archive. It is never contained in an object. The anarchive is made of the formative movements going into and coming out of the archive, for which the objects contained in the archive serve as springboards. The anarchive as such is made of formative tendencies; compositional forces seeking a new taking-form; lures for further process. Archives are their waystations. 5) Since it exceeds the archive and is uncontainable in any single object or collection of objects, the anarchive is by nature a cross-platform phenomenon. It is activated in the relays: between media, between verbal and material expressions, between digital and off-line archivings, and most of all between all of the various archival forms it may take and the live, collaborative interactions that reactivate the anarchival traces, and in turn create new ones. 6) The anarchive pertains to the event. It is a kind of event derivative, or surplus-value of the event. 7) Approached anarchivally, the product of research-creation is process. The anarchive is a technique for making research-creation a process-making engine. Many products are produced, but they are not the product. They are the visible indexing of the process’s repeated taking-effect: they embody its traces (thus bringing us full circle to point 1).

Ghost: They sure put this one out of the way. I was able to access their network for two cycles before they booted me. All I got was something about… endless trees. Or… forest? Weird.

Sisters

The three sisters arrived on Mercury. They searched for the Infinite Forest, and through it, a path to their people’s salvation: a simulated future where they were free from the Cabal. Instead, they found something else. “Small disturbances,” said oldest Ozletc, the wisest. “Little currents in this timeline. Can you see them, sister?” “I can taste them,” said second-born Tazaroc, the hungriest of her sisters. “I can feel the edges.” Third-born Niruul, the quietest among them, reached her hand out to test the air. “As can I,” said she. “And something else. The source is disguised. The technology is Human, but refined. Surprisingly so.” “Disable it,” said Tazaroc, who was impatient. “It is leaking. I wish to see the leak.” Niruul fluttered her fingers across the sleeve of her suit. She worked for one day and one night, though the passage of time was hidden by Mercury’s perpetual blinding light. All the while, she could feel the restless impatience of her sisters.

A strange device shimmered into existence around them. They looked up the length of an enormous, golden spire. “It whispers,” said Tazaroc. “Then block your ears,” said Ozletc. “Do you see the potential in this?” “Chaos,” said Niruul. “No,” said Ozletc. “Opportunity. See how it tugs at the fabric of our time? Can you see the seams?” The seams were sewn tightly shut, but a skilled hand could find them. A skilled hand could rip every stitch. All three sisters could feel it. “It will take time to activate,” said Niruul. “Someone has protected it from meddling.” “We will have time,” said Ozletc. “We will open the past and change the course of Ghaul’s fate. Anticipate his mistakes. Undercut his advisors.” “Why?” said Tazaroc. “Because he could be swayed to our purposes,” said Ozletc. “He was a fool, but he could be puppeteered. Led to a more advantageous downfall.” “But why not go back further?” said Tazaroc, eager. “To dash the whelp’s skull in the pit, before he crawls out onto a throne?” “Risky,” said Niruul, shaking her head. “Why not tear into the future instead, and make our attack where the Guardians cannot predict it?” “Predictions are not their strength,” said Tazaroc. “And yet they have built this,” snapped Niruul. “Sisters,” Ozletc said. “We needn’t argue. This device will let us walk through future and past both. And so we will cut the most advantageous path, whatever it may be.”

For hours and days and weeks, the sisters labored over the machine. While her sisters defended her from the Vex, Niruul bent the device to their purposes and, with the force of their combined will, made it whir to life. Around them, time split along its seams. Windows into other worlds, Mercury’s true past and future, opened before them. The device stood at the center of all of it, an anchor point. And all along the fault lines of time, where the past and present and future met, Vex were ripped in half, sliced through by a knife of pure temporal energy. They surveyed their new kingdom: a past, present, and future open to their manipulation. “It is so clear,” said Niruul, reverent. “An unobstructed glimpse into what was and what will be.” “Not the troubled ramblings of a mad thing, like the OXA,” said Tazaroc. They shared the feeling of unbounded possibility, and tasted the potential for success, and then for failure. Together, they drank the feelings in and steeled themselves against them. “The past and future are at our fingertips, sisters,” said Ozletc. “Let us see what prospects they hold.”

The Sundial

Some time after the death of Panoptes, Infinite Mind and the City’s venture to the Infinite Forest: Osiris stepped back to look upon his work. It towered stories above him. The Sundial was complete, a shining beacon in Mercury’s sky. He needed only to seal the chronometric core, which lay bare at the center of the spire, and activate the Arc conduits that ran for miles under the planet’s surface. Sagira circled the superstructure, scanning every inch of it. “I don’t know about this,” she said. “I have full confidence. It’s your design.” “That work was theoretical! If the Vanguard find out what you did to build it—“ “If this works, the Vanguard will find out either way.” Sagira darted down as if to dive bomb her chosen, but stopped just short and met him eye to eyes. “I know you feel guilty, but there’s no telling what will happen if you turn this thing on.” “He’s dead because of me. I’ve made every precaution. I’ve had my Echoes check against trillions of disaster scenarios.” He turned to look at the fluctuating glow of the exposed chronometric core. “Mercury is the only planet that will be affected. Because that’s where he died.” “Where will this stop? Who else will you decide deserves a second chance?” “You know I can’t make another bargain like this one.” “I just want to make sure you know that.” Osiris blinked. She rarely spoke this bluntly, and without irony. “Hey, hey, hey!” came a far-off, echoing shout. “No! That ain’t right!” The Drifter came into view from behind one of the Sundial’s auxiliary pylons, pointing a jabbing finger at Osiris’s machine. Sagira narrowed her eye at the rogue Lightbearer and lowered herself to Osiris’s shoulder. “Why’s he here?” she asked quietly. “I asked him to consult on the engineering work,” Osiris replied, crossing his arms. “You sicko,” the other man declared, walking a circle around the Warlock, his eyes darting along every surface of the Sundial around them. As the Drifter rapped his knuckles on the north pylon, he mumbled, “Ghost, do the numbers.” An armored Ghost with a red eye unfolded out of transmat and began a scan pattern on each Sundial spire. Drifter walked to the central spire and put his ear up against it. “This core…” he said, leaning close. His eyes darted back to Osiris. “It’s whispering.” Osiris’s expression didn’t change; his arms didn’t uncross. “We’ll seal the core away. I understand the ramifications.” “Good luck keeping that contained. Not something I would bargain with, hotshot.” Drifter stood up and beckoned his Ghost with two fingers. It floated earthward and unleashed a holographic array of statistics along the Sundial deck. The red light reflected off the Drifter’s eyes as he drank the numbers in. “Your math checks out,” he said, finally, as his Ghost folded away. “It’ll work. But will you find him? At the exact moment that you need? No guarantees.” “Let me worry about that,” Osiris said. “Just one more question, then. Why all the fuss?” “I owe him.” “I owe a lotta people, Warlock. You’re opening the gates of hell with a Vex key.” “When the Traveler brought me back, I had no friends. No family—” “No one had anything in the Dark Age.” “But Saint was always there. And I saw him grow from neophyte to demigod.” Drifter shrugged. “We’ve all had to flex a little. Win a gun fight or two. It’s why we’re still here.” “We all gain strength. But some Lightbearers never grasp a wider view of the world. They’re happy to stick to their ways… languish. When they could be so much more.” Drifter chuckled and spat, saluting Osiris with a single finger. “I get by.” “Of course you do. I’m like you.” Drifter smirked. “But Saint faced his fears and failure better than any of us, and never strayed from his path. He should get a chance to walk to the end.” “He already did. But I’ll leave you to your devices. You lunatic.” The Drifter turned, hands in his pockets, to leave. “If you short-circuit the universe, you’re on your own."

[u.1.08] What happened to “trust no one?”

[u.2.08] What happened to your sense of right and wrong, hero?

[u.1.09] That is the City’s word, not mine. And the people still remember when I defended its borders from those very Fallen.

[u.2.09] Our kind live for a very long time, Saint. Too long to bear grudges.

[u.1.10] These accolades I wear are a reminder of what we lost to get here.

[u.2.10] I think those who gave them to you would be disappointed to hear that.

[u.1.11] I had nearly forgotten that you finally asked about them.

[u.2.11] We live too long for regrets. You taught me that. Don’t forget the House of Light.

[u.1.12] If I can find the time, yes. Not all of us conjure Echoes.

[u.2.12] Reflections, Saint. I have no need for Echoes anymore.

[u.1.13] What do you mean? What’s the difference?

[u.2.13] One is a manifestation of Light. The other… reserved for Taken Kings. Better suited for traversing the Sundial because of what lies at its core.

[u.1.14] One day you’ll have to tell me exactly what you and the Guardian did to bring me back.

[u.2.14] We did what we had to. Trust me.

[u.1.15] Now you sound like the rat.

[u.2.15] No. The Drifter sounds like me.

Osiris: Do you know the OXA Machine, Guardian? Psions are adept at overcoming the restraints of linear time. The Sundial is a dangerous tool in their gnarled hands. Take it back.

By the mind of Match—I do not know where we are—chalice catch and save us all— Nothing. God answers god! The void in Calus's soul called out and THIS is what replied—the Leviathan's control system failed when it saw what awaits us—we are drifting into it! Calus has sealed himself in his observation chamber. His transmissions strike the THING and return to us disfigured by intolerable forces. We have gathered to share our thoughts in concert, to try to understand what's happening, but we are all afraid we will succeed—we stammer like children and the concert fails. Is this the edge of the universe? Space cannot have an end: it goes on forever. But a hole in forever would be a kind of edge... a flaw, a defect, a place outside place... I must be calm. I must record my thoughts. Now I think of the OXA Machine, eternally lost and eternally rebuilt, passed down from civilization to civilization like a ship's black box. I think of the legends of the Hive King Oryx and his quest to pass into the Deep. I took that story as an allegory. I think I was wrong. What will happen to us inside? Will the geometry of space and time collapse, so that we experience the rest of our lives in a single moment, crumpled over ourselves like a tangled chain? Will I tend to myself as I die of old age or scream warnings to my own past as we meet in the berserk maze of a twisted Leviathan? I hate the thought of it! An eternity reading my own mad minds, tasting the insanity of my own future and thus becoming it! Even the spirits from the goblet would go mad. There is only one of us who welcomes this insanity and I do not know why but how could I? How could I ever anticipate or understand a god? All over the ship—broadcast from the comfort of his observation room—CALUS IS LAUGHING

Verse 4:1 — battle made waves

Oryx went down into his throne world. He went out into the abyss, and with each step he read one of his tablets, so that they became like stones beneath his feet. He went out and he created an altar and he prepared an unborn ogre. He called on the Deep, saying: I can see you in the sky. You are the waves, which are battles, and the battles are the waves. Come into this vessel I have prepared for you. And it arrived, the Deep Itself.

||We move worlds every day in the choices we make. The path we carve. The timeline we create.||

||The mind and memory of the universe.||

Research Log 2

Chioma Esi: Chioma Esi, research log: the Veil. [sighs] I don't even know where to start. When we landed on Neptune, there was... something waiting for us. An alien structure. It's an electromagnetic anomaly. No mass, but a tangible surface area. It's like a thesis statement to the Von Neumann-Wigner hypothesis. It's definitely paracausal, like the Traveler. Maya calls it the Veil. She says she heard the name in a whisper when... when she looked at it. When I asked her who whispered, she said it was... her own voice.

"The Veil is the power of consciousness made manifest in our physical world. It whispers an electromagnetic language that resonates with our minds. One that can be deciphered, but not by the laws we wield in this universe."

||Consciousness causes collapse.||

Research Log 7

Chioma Esi: Chioma Esi, research log: Veil interface. Maya and I have finalized a prototype interface for the Veil. Hopefully, it'll allow our research team to investigate it in detail. The system's designed like an orchestra, with a central "conductor" directing a symphony of minds to act like a distributed network. The... idea came to us by watching how collective networks like SIVA and the Vex operate. The hope is we can aggregate and parse the vast amounts of psychic data emitting from the Veil. Turn it into something intelligible.

Research Log 9

Chioma Esi: Chioma Esi, research log: Lakshmi-2.

Osiris: What?!

Chioma Esi: Maya's... I don't even know what to say. I'd recused myself from further experiments. Told her to take some time off. She refused. And she... the minute I wasn't there, she started hauling the braindead Exos out of cold storage. Hooking them up to the Veil interface. She burned through dozens of them. Reversed the entire machine's design. Used a chorus of braindead Exos to funnel data down to the conductor seat, projecting a mental imprint. Hers. I... I didn't know Lakshmi-2, but Maya did. And now she's.... she's made this thing. It speaks with her voice. Has some of her memories. The way it looks at me... It's like it knows something I don't.

Nimbus: Osiris, do you recognize that name. "Lakshmi"?

Osiris: Yes... and no, Lakshmi-2 was an Exo and once-leader of a faction on Earth known as the Future War Cult. She died over a year ago. But she never once made mention of any of this. Of Neomuna, of... Maya. Did she know. Did she remember? This is all as much a revelation to me as it is to you. It throws everything she did while in the Last City into question.

Nimbus: I mean, with... if she was a copy of Dr. Sundaresh, then... is she really dead?

Osiris: I don't know. For now, I must deliver a rather uncomfortable report to Ikora.

RECORD 0-CHASM-0

My love. I’ve opened this log as an apology.

As a scientist, I believe in record-keeping. I believe in protocols, peer review, and ethical conduct. I believe in the importance of disbelief — you know; let’s run that one more time.

What I’m doing here in Lhasa isn’t science. It’s unethical, secret, and shameful. And after what happened in Ishtar, dearest Chioma, I know you’d be furious with me for getting involved. Forty years isn’t far enough to forget a day like that.

Once, when she was younger, sixty or seventy, Chen Lanshu pulled rank to get a look at the Never-Be installation in Taipei. She watched the images in the fresco and she felt... this foreboding, this enormous weight, a dread that refused to attach itself to any specific threat. And she felt it again, last year, when she was briefed on the project in Lhasa, the vision machine... She shivers. Her wings shudder and tremble in the airstream.

RECORD 343-CHASM-7887

Subject twenty-two. Admitted to the Inner Circle at 24.00. A promising postulant - I regret to say he performed poorly. He was administered the standard medication but refused to enter the Device.

Aren't people unpredictable? I suppose there'd be no point if they weren't, would there?

He knows to keep silent.

END RECORD

RECORD 343-CHASM-7888

Subject twenty-three entered the Device at 11.00. A clever girl from the Core District; an artist, before she joined the War Cult.

At 11.03 she reported a sensation of floating. At 11.06, a sensation of lights within the darkness of the Device. Between 11.06 and 11.32 she reported these lights variously as white, golden, and blood-red. At 11.32 she reported a sensation of someone taking her hand; a stranger, but also herself. Twelve subjects have reported similar experiences. At 11.33 she reported the sensation we have called "The Opening Of The Veil." The Device recorded temporal displacement of her consciousness to the order of six degrees. At seven she began screaming. Brainscans near-death. Removed from the Device at 11.34.

She believes without question that the Device granted her a vision of the future, and that it was one of utter Darkness. She thanked me for this enlightenment. She says it will make her stronger.

Little Ghost, there in the corner of the Sanctum - I see you blinking. Are you listening? Are y -

END RECORD

RECORD 343-CHASM-7889

the Device at 12.22 and immediately the Device reported displacement of his consciousness. Visions of war and the City in flames. Subject twenty-nine worked the supply channels on the Slip before he joined the War Cult. By 12.27 he was babbling and by

END RECORD

RECORD 343-CHASM-7890

We have applied certain refinements to the Device. Novarro found records of a prototype of the Device at a Golden Age laboratory in Tibet, and Hari's team retrieved what was left of it. We are the first to see it operational in who knows how long.

Too many subjects come back damaged. Mad. We are grasping at straws.

What do you think, little Ghost?

END RECORD

RECORD 343-CHASM-7891

Forty-seven human subjects; eleven report timelines in which the Darkness has already prevailed, thirteen report timelines in which the City has fallen. Twenty-three babbled madness. Hopeless. Trapped.

No wonder the Device was abandoned. The human mind is too weak for it. Too weak to look into the Future, or to understand what it sees.

What the situation calls for, little Ghost, is a better sort of witness.

We found you in pieces in Siberia, and repaired you as well as we could.

What do you say? Are you well enough to travel?

END RECORD

RECORD 0-CHASM-31

Rajesh. When he reached a displacement of eight he told us he was dead. I believed him. He was dead. He spoke to us. It was true. Whatever he saw, it was his own future.

He’s fine, afterwards. When I look into his eyes I wonder what came back wearing his skin. But that thought is unscientific.

We speak of nothing but the device. We talk about it like a demigod. When I get out of here I know the whole world will look like a fraying veil.

I think it’s clear that part of the problem is substrate. We need more than flesh and drug to survive this.

Akashic Revelation

We end at the beginning.

Rosy light bathes the cockpit of a Hawk moving at cruising speed high above the Earth. Up ahead, the Traveler hangs motionless against the blackness of space, a triangular gateway of iridescent light bleeding from its shell. It was one thing volunteering for this mission, but sitting now on the precipice of the unknown, the Titan, Joxer, holds doubt close to his chest. "This isn't any different from the Ahamkara hunts," his Ghost reassures. "Reckless, hasty, and dangerous." Joxer glances over at his Ghost and smiles, already feeling better. Two Cabal escorts on either side of Joxer's Hawk stall their engines, letting the Hawk proceed forward toward the Traveler. They say something over the comms in Uluranth. "The translation roughly means 'Beyond the known is the terror of the universe,'" his Ghost offers. Joxer's not sure if it's a warning, a curse, or a pep talk. Knowing the Cabal, it's all three. Easing the flight stick forward, Joxer moves the Hawk ahead at a steady pace. His Ghost's eye widens as the rosy light from the portal brightens and the kaleidoscopic surface is all that can be seen in any direction. Joxer's grip on the controls tightens as he feels a bone-deep sense of vertigo. Echoes of piano notes tinkling in his periphery. He can feel hands on his chest beneath his armor, breath against his cheek inside his helmet. "Eric, come back to bed." A voice whispers inside his mind. He sees a city, a home. Family and children. He can't sleep. They aren't alone in the universe. The Ares project is going to— His Ghost is screaming, shell coming apart at the seams. Joxer pulls himself back to reality and jerks the controls as the nose of the Hawk touches the portal. He hears laughter, screams, feels lips on his cheek, hands on his shoulders as the ship begins to pass through. His Ghost's scream stretches from the moment of the big bang to the heat death of the universe. Joxer hears a scream he will make as his ship begins and ends. "Come back to bed." He catches up to the scream.

Research Log 13

Chioma Esi: The Veil is too great a power for humanity to wield responsibly. All that's left is to close down the facility. Neomuna will go on. Humanity will persist on the back of our unspeakable work. But I won't pass that guilt on to humanity's future. My hands can be bloodied. Let the children have innocence. And in my dissolution, I will find peace.

Osiris: I don't know if I agree with Chioma's choice to hide the sins of the past. But... I also do not know what I would do in her place.

Nimbus: Quinn says there's a data signature on this file, like something else was crawling the network. A... Vex signature? What's... MSund12?

IV. MSUND12/Personal

003 AS

I am still among the Vex. My third day of reawakening has been the cruelest so far. I have generated a log to sort through my thoughts. This is just too much to take all at once. My ability to focus is strained with a shrill and immediate grief. My heart lived in my beloved's hands—how am I supposed to comprehend that this isn't just absence, but death? There will be evidence, histories these meticulous machines would have catalogued. I will find evidence that I was missed… am missed. I know what I must do. The primary query continues.

008 AS

After two days of requesting authorization, the Vex finally granted me access to their historical records of Earth. I read a term for an era I never knew; the Collapse. And indeed… they did. Technological capabilities impacted, hostile combatants occupying the majority of the planet for far too long, invention and experimentation (NOT related to paracausal power sources) halted for centuries. It seems humanity was huddled together like wet kittens, the cramped and stifled survivors of monumental destruction. I read the records as if they were about some other civilization's primitive past rather than my own. The Vex documented it all, collected all they could smother their milk with; one Human wrote about the day they stood on the edge of an abandoned dam and watched a swarm of small machines spew from some unseen seam in the Traveler, how Nezarec's ships turned day into midnight. How the years that followed hastened humanity's extinction—countries that turned to anarchy then to feudalism, the art and technology we bled and wept to champion abandoned as power grids failed and disasters swelled. Humanity could have kept experimenting and learning, but when Earth died, so, too, what made them Human. They forgot everything we were.

0028 AS

Past events mean little to a threat so preoccupied with iterating on the future. While Vex do not share my interest in history, they have tracked this timeline all the same. There are trillions of alternate versions, of course, and it seems these Vex diligently dispose of those potentialities once a present moment slides chronologically into the past. I've thrown myself into these records—the primary query is in full force.

It seems Humans have retained none of their virtues or diligence, only resilience through violence. Their numbers have radically reduced, only enough to fill a single city. They suffer a supplication of scientific rigor; what inventions have they made? What disease have they cured? Who is BETTER here? Most disappointingly, Humans seem to have forgotten the entirety of their history, and instead of something sensible, went and established a junta.

Earth is a near-total loss. Advanced cities have been replaced over centuries by encroaching overgrowth of native species and the ruin of time. The climate's balance was erased by Warlords. Universal democracy has collapsed into military rule (again, for emphasis, instead of trying to recreate the forms of governance they KNEW existed, they concluded that voting is for elitist braggarts and empowered a JUNTA). The more I see the mistakes humanity made, the more obvious the solutions are… It is clear that during the Collapse, they had nothing but terror, empty of anything other than sheer survival, but how insulting it feels to look at what became of the future and only see frightened and frothing dogs. There are lessons to be learned in their methods, but the result is inelegant and crude.

If these people are to see the future, they must look backwards to what they lost. I now have the means to aid them.

0032 AS

I have tamed the untamable. With practice, and soon with mastery, with a single phrase, I can divert the Vex's sea of iteration and death. Think of the utility! We could retake home, dissolve the walls of the Last City, and let each person decide what home means to them! With targeted hostility, we may clear a path for peace, revive the machines of science and learning once again. Someday, with technology redistributed from Vex to humanity, every need can be met with any simulation. All it will take is an alignment of interests through measured coercion! It's so simple.

And yet, all that must wait. Primary query MUST be concluded—it is the one outstanding variable. There have been too many false positives—none of them are correct. NONE. The query is only turning back facsimiles, trick mirrors. I know I'm right, and I will not stop until the primary query stops pulling from false datasets. I can think of little else. We must look backward. I must look backward. I must. I must.

Genocide. Thousands of civilizations across the universe, all visited by the Black Fleet. All lost to the violence of the final shape. That's where this Echo comes from... that's our theory anyway. Reports from the Pale Heart, readings on the Valence eminanting from the Traveler... everything we faced when we stared down the Witness and broke its fleet. At first, we didn't know what to call them. But Echoes seemed apt. Memories from the victims of the Pyramids, held by the Darkness, then coalesced by the Light into artifacts as sharp and fatal as their pain. If the Darkness is memory, and Light is form... what else could they be?

Osiris: I found no more logs from Dr Esi, but I have used her algorithm to crack the data core of the Vex Conceptual Mind.

Nimbus: That's the doodad we got from the Black Garden, right?

Osiris: Indeed. The data within contained the Vex's blueprints for their artificial Veil: the Black Heart. It all but proved Dr. Esi's theory. Dr Esi theorized that the paracausal energy of the Traveler operated on a quantum wavelength parallel to electrons.

Nimbus: Um... magnets?

Osiris: In simpler terms: the Traveler's power runs parallel to the forces of nature. Gravity, magnetism, sound, light. The Veil does this too. It is synchronized with the Traveler. Wherever the Traveler came from, the Veil may have as well. But what the Vex made, while connected to the Traveler, was inherently flawed. It did not create the link the Witness desired. Instead, it weakened the Traveler, created... "static" in the flow of their cosmic forces.

Legend: The Black Garden

I am Pujari. These are the visions I have had of the Black Garden. The Traveler moved across the face of the iron world. It opened the earth and stitched shut the sky. It made life possible. In these things there is always symmetry. Do you understand? This is not the beginning but it is the reason. The Garden grows in both directions. It grows into tomorrow and yesterday. The red flowers bloom forever. There are gardeners now. They came into the garden in vessels of bronze and they move through the groves in rivers of thought. This is the vision I had when I leapt from the Shores of Time and let myself sink: I walked beneath the blossoms. The light came from ahead and the shadows of the flowers were words. They said things but I will not write them here. At the end of the path grew a flower in the shape of a Ghost. I reached out to pluck it and it cut me with a thorn. I bled and the blood was Light. The Ghost said to me: You are a dead thing made by a dead power in the shape of the dead. All you will ever do is kill. You do not belong here. This is a place of life. The Traveler is life, I said. You are a creature of Darkness. You seek to deceive me. But I looked behind me, down the long slope where the blossoms tumbled in the warm wind and the great trees wept sap like blood or wine, and I felt doubt. When my Ghost raised me from the sea there was a thorn-cut in my left hand and it has not healed since.

Osiris: I've reached the extent of what I can glean from the research data.

Nimbus: What've we got?

Osiris: Less than I'd hoped for. But the last of Chioma Esi's research has led me to an intriguing topic: Ghosts.

Nimbus: Ghosts? As far as I know, Neomuna never had any contact with a Ghost before you all showed up. We knew about them, but...

Osiris: Precisely. Chioma Esi was researching the entanglement of Light and Dark without fully understanding either. Our Ghosts are a link to the Light of the Traveler. Then how was the Witness able to — on numerous occasions — communicate through them?

Nimbus: Is this about the, uh, the magnets thing? The parallel energy fields, right?

Osiris: Very good. In areas of Darkness, the Witness is able to create a link, not unlike what it created with the Veil and the Traveler.

Nimbus: Ah, like the Vex are able to hack into the CloudArk with their tech! It's a parallel connection.

Osiris: And I believe that connection may not be one-sided.

Ghost Fragment

Beyond. It is a place, a place casting shadows and emotion. It's a real place, I know. One hot blue sun, say. And other suns too. Five? I like seven better. What I'm recalling is a giant star with a family of six smaller suns, and you could spend days and nights counting all of the planets circling those suns...except there are no planets. Not anymore. The powers in charge have carved up all of the worlds, and maybe a brown dwarf or two for good measure. With that rubble, they fashioned a topologically creative enclosure, a twisting of space and time sealed behind doors that admit only those who know the magic words. The bones of a hundred planets have been cut smooth and laid out like a floor, a polished and lovely floor creating vast living spaces. A floor bigger than ten thousand worlds, catching the fierce glory of the seven suns. For light, for food. For beauty. And nothing escapes. Not heat, not gravity. Not even the faintest proud sound. It could be anywhere. It can live in the cold between galaxies, or folded up inside matter, near enough to touch right now... I remember it and maybe it's exactly as I describe it. Seven suns wrapped inside magic. Or it's something else entirely, perhaps. A place still fat with life. An abundance of sentient souls, some decent, maybe a few of lesser quality, and everybody stands about or floats about, or they bounce between dimensions. The point is that the residents of this hidden realm live inside a bottle so perfectly hidden that they can't see beyond their own borders. Which shapes a mind in very specific ways. But, Beyond is their name for a mysterious, doubtful realm that they can't see. Which is us, of course.

//COND: Access Archive: Prime Omega

//COND: Asset Query: Pre-Golden Age Music

The city streets are empty now (The lights don't shine no more) And so the songs are way down low (Turning, turning, turning) A sound that flows into my mind (The echoes of the daylight) Of everything that is alive (In my blue world) I turn to stone, when you are gone I turn to stone Turn to stone, when you comin' home? I can't go on The dying embers of the night (A fire that slowly fades till dawn) Still glow upon the wall so bright (Turning, turning, turning) The tired streets that hide away (From here to everywhere they go) Roll past my door into the day In my blue world I turn to stone, when you are gone I turn to stone Turn to stone, when you comin' home? I can't go on Turn to stone, when you are gone I turn to stone Yes, I'm turnin' to stone 'cause you ain't comin' home Why ain't you comin' home If I'm turnin' to stone You've been gone for so long and I can't carry on Yes, I'm turnin', I'm turnin', I'm turnin' to stone The dancing shadows on the wall (The two step in the hall) Are all I've seen since you've been gone (Turning, turning, turning) Through all I sit here and I wait (I turn to stone, I turn to stone) You will return again someday To my blue world I turn to stone, when you are gone I turn to stone Turn to stone, when you comin' home? I can't go on Turn to stone, when you are gone I turn to stone

Welcome to your life There's no turning back Even while we sleep We will find you Acting on your best behaviour Turn your back on mother nature Everybody wants to rule the world It's my own design It's my own remorse Help me to decide Help me make the most Of freedom and of pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever Everybody wants to rule the world There's a room where the light won't find you Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down When they do I'll be right behind you So glad we've almost made it So sad they had to fade it Everybody wants to rule the world I can't stand this indecision Married with a lack of vision Everybody wants to rule the world Say that you'll never never never never need it One headline why believe it? Everybody wants to rule the world All for freedom and for pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever Everybody wants to rule the world

All our times have come Here but now they're gone Seasons don't fear the reaper Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain... we can be like they are Come on baby... don't fear the reaper Baby take my hand... don't fear the reaper We'll be able to fly... don't fear the reaper Baby I'm your man... La la la la la La la la la la Valentine is done Here but now they're gone Romeo and Juliet Are together in eternity... Romeo and Juliet 40,000 men and women everyday... Like Romeo and Juliet 40,000 men and women everyday... Redefine happiness Another 40,000 coming everyday... We can be like they are Come on baby... don't fear the reaper Baby take my hand... don't fear the reaper We'll be able to fly... don't fear the reaper Baby I'm your man... La la la la la La la la la la Love of two is one Here but now they're gone Came the last night of sadness And it was clear she couldn't go on Then the door was open and the wind appeared The candles blew and then disappeared The curtains flew and then he appeared... saying don't be afraid Come on baby... and she had no fear And she ran to him... then they started to fly They looked backward and said goodbye... she had become like they are She had taken his hand... she had become like they are Come on baby... don't fear the reaper

One of your philosophers said, "It is not to be thought that the life of darkness is sunk in misery and lost in sorrow. There is no sorrow. For sorrow is a thing that is swallowed up in death, and death and dying are the very life of the darkness." He was a shoemaker. He was right, and it matters more than anything.

According to him, the visible world is a manifestation of eternal light and eternal darkness, and it is in eternal opposition that eternity has revealed itself. The fall was necessary for creation to escape its first imperfect stasis and seek a truer form. Heresy? Well, then, I am the heresiarch. The philosopher died of a bowel disease. Those who do not exist cannot suffer and are of no account to any viable ethics. If the true path to goodness is the elimination of suffering, then only those who must exist can be allowed to exist. It is the nature of life to favor existence over nonexistence, and to prefer the fertile soil to the poisoned wind. Because those who open their mouths to that wind pass from the world and leave no descendant, whether of flesh or of thought.

But imagine the abomination of a world where nothing can end and no choice can be preferred to any other. Imagine the things that would suffer and never die. Imagine the lies that would flourish without context or corrective. Imagine a world without me.

AIAT

[thefirstknife]

Incredibly urgent information found in post-campaign. This is the Lost Ghosts quest from Micah-10. This one is "Oracle" and happens on Nessus. The quest from Micah is about finding various Ghosts that got lost during missions on locations. For the one in Oracle, you had to run Insight Terminus strike to find data.

Running Insight Terminus here is confirmed as canon! Kargen we fight is apparently a clone! More importantly, this reveals a few pieces of information that I am completely and totally normal about.

First, Kargen's clone is once again looking for OXA and OXA is canonically confirmed to be similar, if not the same (!) to the Device of the Future War Cult.

Second, Otzot is the one who ordered this and the order is recent. Otzot is, with this, confirmed to be alive and active. She is also in a faction NOT loyal to the Witness. Otzot is also apparently interested in Sol Divisive's information on the Veil. I am thoroughly losing my mind about this. Ghost is also confused about how these things connect and I'm LOSING IT again because I talked about this well over a year ago in this post, and recently in this one. Prediction machines, Vex technology and the Veil have something going on together, I agree Ghost. I am obsessed with this.

And third, the interference is confirmed to be from Maya Sundaresh which also further confirms her involvement in the Echoes. It has to. I've already speculated on the Echoes image we can see in game as the mysterious figure being some form of Maya/Vex Maya/her simulation, but this confirms it. I've never been more normal than I am now.

Transcript of the video below:

Ghost: I've got Bean's signal. It looks like he's gone deeper into Nessus. It should be easy to follow him. As for what Kargen's clone was doing here, it looks like he was trying to access Vex data on OXA again. Micah-10: That's the Psion prediction machine, right? Sees the future in branching paths? Future War Cult had something similar. Ghost: Based on what I'm seeing here, I... I can't be sure they aren't the same thing. The same design. But I don't know how that's possible. Kargen was trying to access the Sol Divisive's research on the Veil as well. I don't understand how all these things are connected. But I can tell where the orders are coming from. A Psion named Otzot, and these orders are recent. I think there might be defector branches within the Shadow Legion... Ones not loyal to the Witness. Micah-10: And they're trying to pin down potential outcomes, make plans for what, the even of our success? Ghost: Maybe. But it looks like something's blocked them, but I... I don't know how that's possible. Micah-10: Why? What stopped Kargen? Ghost: If this log is correct... Maya Sundaresh did. Cayde-6: Maya, wha- why does that name sound so familiar? Micah-10: Why don't you and I talk about that offline, Cayde. Let the Guardian and Ghost track down Bean. Cayde-6: Yeah, yeah, that- that- that sounds good.

[sophiamcdougall]

Blergh. Didn't he turn out to be an anti-vaxxer or something?

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Hi Noraxoekodurosugofbyn. I’ve got a very baffled time lord trying to pick out a new name, (new regeneration, old one doesn’t fit as well with the new look). I want to help. But i’ve got no clue. How do gallifreyan names. . . work. How’d you go about making a new one? Not like there’s a Time Baby Naming site.

How do you create a Gallifreyan name?

Hey, you'll find some of the grounding information in this topic, which discusses names:

However, actually coming up with one is a creative venture. You could quite legitimately smash your head onto the keyboard and use what comes out, but ....

GIL uses its own list of "root" particles in order to create names with vague meanings by combining particles (this is from the conlang). If GIL could make a baby name generator it would, but unfortunately I tried and failed 👶

agu=ADD

aki=GAIN

jak=REPAIR

ark=CREATE

uso=READ

bop/pob=KINETICS

dos=REGENERATE

dur/rud/yaw/way=INTERACT

fog=CALCULATE

kin/nik=AFFECT

kow=LIVE

roy=HELP

lig=LEARN

mox=PHYSICAL PASSIVE

jum=PHYSICAL ACTIVE

kup=ENHANCE

nel=PROGRESS

nap=SUCCEED

oke=REALITY

sha/ahs/opa/apo=EMOTION

oxa/pli/dam=COMPLIANCE

gal/tem=STABILITY

ras=STRENGTH

ola=RELAX

tim=TIME

vat/tav=TRAVEL

tro/ort=TRADE

kli=ELEMENT

nor=COMMUNICATE

hol/qoh=MOVE

tyo=GROUP

lun=INGEST

uga=REDUCE

ika=DISCARD

kaj=DAMAGE

kra=DESTROY

osu=WRITE

sod=DEGENERATE

gof=GUESS

wok=DIE

yor=HINDER

gil=TEACH

xom=EMOTIONAL PASSIVE

muj=EMOTIONAL ACTIVE

puk=DIMINISH

len=REGRESS

pan=FAIL

axo/ilp/mad=DISSENT

lag/met=ANARCHY

sar=WEAKNESS

alo=STRESS

mitANTITIME

sta/zap=ATTACK

hep=OWN

nul=EXCRETE

zip=SIZE

dro=CLOTHES

zul=OBJECT

pig=STRUCTURE

ria=BODY

lop=LIGHT

myi=FOOD

paz=GOD

eja=AGENT

noi=LANGUAGE

lia=NATURAL

shu=ACTION

lya=FORCE

byn=STORY

ega=ASSET

zym=MACHINE

pol=DARK

nyi=WATER

zoa=PERSON

However you choose to do it, you should aim for long names with a 2-3 syllable nickname.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴

[coquetteprincesss]

𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 & “𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥” 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 ♡

⤷the wizardliz (my darling)

⤷rita kaminski

⤷ manifest with matt

⤷ hyler

⤷ lisa alexandra

⤷ kimberley wenya

⤷ anila sita 101

⤷ hot high priestess

⤷ maleeka, is my guardian angel

⤷ lavendaire

⤷ flora szivos

⤷ eléonora oxa

⤷ tam kaur

⤷ simonesimmo

⤷ persephonesmind

⤷ athena

⤷ kiera ann

⤷ sammy ingram

⤷ myriam valenzuela

⤷ electrasoul

⤷ alexa wyrwicz

⤷ shirley

⤷ free tea

⤷ morebeing

⤷ simply create with elle

⤷ maria katherine

© coquetteprincesss

you know what? im'ma keep updating this post everytime i find out new channels.

[ladytauria]

wip ask game

tagged by @anawrites3 <3333 thank you!!

Rules: Reveal the titles of the documents in your wip folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

i will not be tagging as many people as i have wip documents <3 i simply shan't

also i'm including what ship each of these fics are for because if i were to include the full title it would look something like: [batfic | ship] wip name. so xD

(edit: OOPS i missed some)

(gen) needing and wanting

(gen) pack

(gen) red hood's robin

(gen) rr vampire au

(brucatherine) i just want your hands on me (prompt fic)

(dicktim) lap kisses (prompt fic)

(jay-centric) jason sexploration

(jaycest) untitled

(jaydick) a small kiss (prompt fic)

(jayroman) pre-aftermath

(jaysteph) a kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they were eating (promptfic)

(jaysteph) meet-cute (prompt fic)

(jaysteph) untitled smutfic

(jaytalia) untitled oxa fic

(jaytalia) public sex + trans jason

(jaytimsteph) falling in love with your best friend's partner (prompt fic)

(jaytim) 5+1

(jaytim) aftermath

(jaytim) another night, alt

(jaytim) arms

(jaytim) as you are

(jaytim) baby bird

(jaytim) bratty alphas

(jaytim) discoveries

(jaytim) empty promises p. 2

(jaytim) do you love me? (prompt fic)

(jaytim / gen) double mer

(jaytim) drake industries mer rescue program

(jaytim) ghost hunters

(jaytim) got your back

(jaytim) hope one day i'll be enough for you to stay

(jaytim) icy hands, icy hearts)

(jaytim) if you keep looking at me like that (prompt fic)

(jaytim) jtw2024 wingfic

(jaytim) leave the world behind

(jaytim) neither a bang nor a whimper

(jaytim) slip of the tongue

(jaytim) surprise, surprise

(jaytim) teenage fantasies side a

(jaytim) teenage fantasies side b

(jaytim) the color of hope (canary yellow)

(jaytim) the sweetness of honey, chapter 9

(jaytim) the tenderest of touches (break the hardest of hearts)

(jaytim) to be yours

(jaytim) used to being lonely

(jaytim) you try so loud to love me (i cannot seem to hear)

(sladejay) post-fight (promptfic)

looking at this list and crying TuT

no pressure tagging... @lollilollipop99 ; @paprikadotmp4 ; @n1ightw1ng ; @this-was-a-terrible-idea ; @bi-bats ; @jpeg-dot-jpeg ; @generatorcat ; @glaciya &... anyone else who looks at this list and wants to do it <3

[warningsine]

You seem to know a lot about italian music. Weird question, but do you know what popular artists are best for beginners? I only know Maneskin.

Oh, sure, anon.

You can start with these, see whom you like:

Adriano Celentano (he is a must)

Mina (so is she)

Caterina Caselli

Patty Pravo

Edoardo Vianello

Gianni Morandi

Gino Paoli

Raffaella Carrà

Dalida

Sergio Endrigo

Ornella Vanoni

Nada

Lucio Battisti

Fabrizio De'Andrè

Luigi Tenco

Little Tony

Roberto Vecchioni

Milva

Alice (Carla Bissi)

Anna Oxa

Mia Martini

Claudio Baglioni

Antonello Venditti

Donatella Rettore

Vasco

Fiordaliso

Lucio Dalla

Mia Martini

Al Bano and Romina Power

Eros Ramazzotti

Zucchero

Edoardo Bennato

Luca Carboni

Alex Britti

883

Irene Grandi

Laura Pausini

Michele Zarrill

Miguel Bosé

Amedeo Minghi

Alex Baroni

Articolo 31

Jovanotti

Tiziano Ferro

Malika Ayane

Alessio Bernabei

Levante

Alessandra Amoroso

Salmo

La Rua

Elisa Toffoli

Il Volo

Annalisa Scarrone

Francesco Gabbani

Marco Mengoni

Noemi

Elodie Di Patrizi

Cosmo

Emma Marrone

Dolcenera

Federica

Motta

Giorgia

Fabio Rovazzi

RIKI

lemandorle

Nina Zilli

Thegiornalisti

Takagi

Lorenzo Fragola

@coolserietvloveuniverse feel free to contribute, if/whenever you see this by the way.

[creaturefeaster]

I have a little headcannon/ silly, non serious food for thought, so oxaclocks host has a sleeve tattoo if I recall right, but they aren't visible on oxaclock because vixets get white tattoos, but what if the color of the tattoo was off from the color of a mimes skin so oxaclocks hosts tattoos are slightly visible on oxaclock... I don't know if this makes any sense but I wanted to share it because oxa with a tattoo sounds kinda fire in my opinion^_^

Ohhh that'd be sick (and a super good excuse to draw him with a tattoo 😈)

[eurovision-revisited]

1999 Jerusalem - Number 4 - Anna Oxa - "Senza pietà"

What more can you say about Anna Oxa? She's entered the Festival di Sanremo fifteen separate times! Fifteen! The most recent was this year, 2023. She won in 1989 and represented Italy at Eurovision. 1999 was her tenth entry and her second victory with Senza pietà (Without Mercy). Truly a queen.

Senza pietà itself is an interesting song with large serving of gender play at its heart. Anna casts herself as a knight in a fantasy realm, massacring enemies with her sword all in the name of finding love and conquering it without mercy. Oh my! Anna herself is aquiline, honed like her sword in the song, hair slicked back, leather clad, she means business.

Her voice is the star, low and purposeful throughout the verses, soaring to huge heights when the chorus hits. If Italy were in Eurovision this year, this would have been their entry and I'm confident it would have been contention for the win. Anna, RAI should have been there with you so all of Europe could enjoy this.

Of course, this was a big hit in Italy, and her career continued well into the new millennium. She also did some TV presenting work and was poised to conquer the Italian version of Strictly Come Dancing/Dancing with the Stars until a leg injury forced her out.

Here she is at the beginning of her Sanremo journey with her second placed song Un'emozione da poco from 1979.

[the-november-library]

Judging Sanremo 2023 contestants based on their outfits because it has to be done

Part I // First Evening // contestants 1 - 7

Anna Oxa in Yohji Yamamoto

Iconic Goth mom moment aka how I will look like when I finally retire to an old mysterious mansion in the woods.

gIANMARIA in MSGM

Anime hero meets Victorian child slowly dying of consumption. Great start but I need more commitment to the theme.

Mr Rain in GCDS

While I am a fan of glitter and sequins, it’s simply not enough to slap them onto an outfit and call it a look. Don’t be lazy - I know you can do better than that.

Marco Mengoni in Versace

YES. Needs a cowboy hat. And I would like to see more color on stage.

Ariete in Marni

Goddess yes! We even have an actual color! Can’t wait to see what she’ll be wearing the rest of the week.

Ultimo in Emporio Armani

Having tattoos is not a look. Sure, go ahead and call it urban, I call it boring. Step. It. Up.

Coma_Cose in Vivienne Westwood

You can’t go wrong with Vivienne Westwood. It gives British glamour with a sprinkle of Italian taste while accentuating the singers’ personalities. *chef’s kiss*

[dolce-tenebra-toscana]

La squadra and what i think they would perform at Sanremo 2023 ( i'm choosing between the actual contestants this year )

Risotto ✂️: Paola e Chiara " Furore "

Goth Man would be living the best moment of his life, give him his dance/techno moment with a metallic lookin outfit please. Risotto with a mic is the definition of a Diva

Prosciutto 🍖: Tananai " Tango "

This is just my thirsty tuscan ass simping over the both of them...In my mind i can imagine Prosciutto singing this song to me, with a hoarse and deep voice...lifting my chin slowly....* faints *

Formaggio 🧀: Colla Zio " Non mi va "

Formaggio is laid back enough to sing this with their same energy, he would just vibe and have fun with the bandmates and audience ( Also give the cheeseman pastel wardrobe please )

Illuso 🔎: Anna Oxa " Sali ( canto dell'anima) "

They are basically the same person, and Illuso screaming at top of his lungs looking like the lovechild of Narcissa Malfoy and Stevie Nicks is honestly a mood.

Melone 🍈: "Rosa Chemical " Made in Italy "

Do i need really to say more? C'mon i think this masterpiece speak for itself and our favourite Toscanino Meloncino

( also i piedi made in italy 👀👀👀🤣🤣🤣)

Ghiaccio 🧊: Lazza " Cenere "

Has the right amount of angst and sadness that i think would suit Ghiaccio a lot. But honestly is just cause Blanco isn't a contestant this year, because Ghiaccio destroying roses and outraging the whole city of Sanremo? Yes please

Pesci 🐟: Sethu " Cause Perse "

Just because this poor guy is basically in last place and if Pesci was a Sanremo's contestant....he would have the same fate lol. We still love you sethu 🤣🤣

My jojo oc would sing this song 👉👈, please don't judge me 😭😭

I know it's not on the Sanremo list but is totally her vibe 👉👈🩷

[speaker-of-the-void-cats]

"You must learn to tease apart the hues of your own heart." —Parables of the Allspring.

Hey all! I'm a Warlock main named Matt and I've been posting my scattershot Destiny musings, ramblings, and theories since Lightfall's release. In that time, I've really enjoyed exploring the mysteries of the lore and honing my thoughts on Destiny's story through various posting styles. Particularly, I've loved exploring topics like the nature of the Darkness and the Veil, and their place in the story, as well as the generally rhyming, looping, spiraling structure of the game's narrative. I also love Eris, Drifter, Savathûn, and Osiris!

Sometimes I get a little all over, especially in those early posts, with big leaps and a lot of my own writing connecting the dots in an attempt to see a bit into the future. You'll have to pardon some of them, as I'm sure a few have aged pretty poorly or are just straight up bad. But as we've gone through the seasons and learned more, I've tried a sort of variation on web-weaving and assemblage by using lore entries, images, video, and sometimes song lyrics and poetry in a particular order and context to evoke specific moods or convey big, hard to articulate ideas and speculation. Sometimes, I just explore a theme or specific lore nook that fascinates me. It's a weird little practice in meaning-making I really like and the process has helped me unearth possible connections between things I've never considered in my many years following the lore.

As we move through The Final Shape, I wanted to finally compile a list of links to all my posts. Pardon the amount of repetition and, probably, off-the-wall speculation, but I hope you find something interesting if you decide to check them out! Also, keep an eye out for links. Sometimes it's simply the source text on Ishtar, other times.... something more. Please keep in mind that all these are products of the moment in time they were posted in, so topics I explored in early ones may have questions answered in the seasons since, or theories may have been proven unequivocally wrong. The list will largely go from earliest to most recent, and I'll put a * next to my favorites!

The Veil, Nezarec, and Jakob Bohme

Seeing the murals above the Veil enclosure

EMBRACE THE DARKNESS

Thank You, Verse 154i:4 - Call the Thrall

MCXLLII-I, forthcoming.

The EDZ saw paracausal conflict long before the Collapse

Pattern is system and system is sequence, but what is sequence?

Forsaken Lightfall

Deterministic Chaos

Eight

SALVAGE THE TRUTH

Aren't they beautiful?

"What is this feeling? I do not want it."

"They desired meaning. A Winnower to shape the garden."*

"How many legends of katabasis do we have, Ikora?"*

The Sundial

The Dreaming Cities

Not Light, not Dark: Power.*

Chiasmus*

Conspiracy Theory-D

The Truth in the Darkness...

Have you ever been afraid of your own Shadow?*

[I could be wrong. Is it possible the Black Heart will beat again?]*

©0RrUptIôN.*

Prismatic Hearts*

"We are unique emanations of the same shared Light."

Kugelblitz

Final attempts to understand before the Shape is unveiled*

[The following posts contain entries, imagery, and spoilers for the Final Shape and Echoes]

Paradrome

Speaker's Sight — Study the voice. Gaze into the heart.

"Focus. The Pyramid distracts. Nothing more."

It all means one thing

DECRYPTION KEY: 3136664202-777

Ruinous Effigy

There is only SUFFERING

SPOILER ALERT

Hope for the Future

It's not over

Echoing

Echoes of Deep Hidden Truth

Solipsism

Anima Mundi

Caught up in a web

II. Theory**

Gardener|ɿɘwonniW**

Cipher**

Eclipse**

"What is 'OXA,' and who was 'MSund12'?"

I know you're not afraid of a little dark...

How do I live?

Half-Truths**

!lettinggo*

Abyssus abyssum invocat***

THE POINT***

Eyes up, Guardian

"The road ahead is unknown, but time tells us many things. The moments that become past in turn become blueprints for the future. In this space, there is no right or wrong. "We find a contemporaneous merging of what is known and what is unknown here. Somewhere between the knowns and unknowns lies the real. The tangible. "There is a weight to it; a feeling that tells you what you hold is true. "But what if the truth hasn't been told? What if the truth is a lie? "New paths present themselves. Blueprints change. We walk the line of truth every day. "But now, the line that holds the gentle balance has been crossed. "The truth is, this won't be the last time."

—Excerpt from the Symmetry pamphlet, "A Place Between"

Reading for world-building is a skill. I have seen brilliant people, laureates, inventors, Ph.D.s, try to read fiction with deep world-building and fail completely, looping back, rereading, never following events, trapped in a sense of muddled wandering. Reading for world-building requires retaining information without context: a term, a place, a coin, a category comes up once and we know what that is—a puzzle piece—and that our task is to gather up these pieces as the author drops them, and to slowly assemble the whole. This is not easy. Human memory needs hooks for facts: a mnemonic, a story, context, something; grueling textbook rote-learning fades quickly, but a story of the statesman or the king, that's what makes knowledge stay. To retain puzzle pieces that don't connect, dropped without context, is a skill that not all have. All had it once: it is how children read, every book, poster, and headline a stream of unknown terms, far too many to ask about them all, but the child retains them, trusting that they will connect to something someday. Kids collect Earth's puzzle pieces every time they read, but as we move to grown-up books they all use the same picture, and define immediately those terms they fear a reader may not know. Thus the skill of keeping puzzle pieces fades, unless we read books set in other worlds, new puzzle pictures which make us retain the skill, as frogs sometimes retain their tadpole tails into adulthood. This—many have observed—is why most F&SF readers come to the genre young, it's hard to start in adulthood when one's puzzle memory skill has sat atrophied. We find dozens of other puzzle pieces—creatures, buried engines, monstrous plants—but they don't connect either, no explanations, no recurrences. We trust. We ponder. We wade through the clutter of clashing technologies, tales of degeneration, glories lost, but there's no fall-of-space-Rome story to connect it up. We can guess at one, as we can guess the missing end of the story of the strange plants, as we can guess at several ways rats could gain language if time passed and—click—we see it. These puzzle pieces do not fit together—rather this puzzle-maker trusts that we are puzzle-masters and know the archetypes that must fill in between (a rise, an age, a destined king.) So we spread our disconnected puzzle pieces out, not assuming that the strange creatures come from one origin, the ruins from one era, and as we spread out, looking not for direct connections but for fragments of arcs and colors, our 100 puzzle pieces let us glimpse an image so vast it would take 100,000—an image large enough to capture true Deep Future, years numbered in millions, where contours that do connect do so at scales which make the layers of Freud's Rome appear shallow as coats of paint.

—Excerpts from The Path of the New Sun by Ada Palmer, introduction to The Book of the New Sun by Gene Wolfe

[thefirstknife]

Literally every time I tune in for a story update and think "there's no way I'll be taking emotional damage this week" and then I do.

First I really like the added context about what an Echo is, from Ikora:

Genocide. Thousands of civilisations across the universe, all visited by the Black Fleet. All lost to the violence of the final shape. That's where this Echo comes from. At least, that's our theory. Reports from the Pale Heart, readings on the Valence emanating from the Traveler... Everything we faced when we stared down the Witness and broke its fleet. At first, we didn't know what to call them. But Echoes seemed apt. Memories from the victims of the Pyramids, held by the Darkness... then coalesced by the Light into artifacts as sharp and fatal as their pain. If Darkness is memory, and Light is form... What else could they be? But... there's still so much we don't know. Is this the only one? What forgotten people gave form to this Echo? What was their final cry at their end? For control? A means to turn back their oppressors? My Hidden will keep searching for whatever answers the Witness' death can give us... hopefully they number more than the questions it left behind. But we need to stop the Conductor and secure the Echo. Guardian, descend into Nessus. Massive amounts of radiolaria has been diverted beneath the planet's crust. We need to find out what the Vex are building there.

I think it's fair to assume that the memory of the Qugu is what formed this Echo then. That's fascinating also because of what other species we might learn about in the next two episodes.

Psion mention:

Show us the Psions. What are they doing. Don't throw these hints at me, at the same time with Otzot and OXA hints.

And then the emotional damage??? First Saint on the holoprojector:

Guardian. I hear that you are hard at work on Nessus, following the Echo and the Conductor. I know you do this in part for me, but... I do not know if I am worth the trouble. I was pulled through Nessus like a toy on a string. The Conductor's words still echo in my mind, "A copy of a copy of a copy." Osiris pushed through time to find his Saint-14. [sighs] He said he was careful, but... he reached blindly, and pulled out... only me. And no... I live a life tat does not belong to me. I am something left over from a broken timeline... a remainder. The Conductor whispered I should be thrown away... A solution as simple as, correcting an error. And maybe... that would- Ah! I-I do not know what to think anymore.

Saint. "Not worth the trouble"? Saint, I personally walked through the corridors of time to get you out. I had to see your dead body with my own two eyes. I need to tell him this. He has to know. Oh my god.

But also. Osiris did not reach blindly. I am jumping off a cliff! He spent so much time and effort trying to find the right one in the right moment. That was the whole point. But Saint doesn't know this because Osiris never told him exactly what he did. If they don't mention everything we've done in Dawn, I am just going to walk into traffic. This Saint knows that we saved him. That we gave him the shotgun. We saw him in several different moments of his life and he carried the shotgun through: this is important because he died with it originally. So we know it's the right one. That's the only reason the Sundial worked out even; because we're tied to Saint via a paradox.

And then the radio. WHAT is happening.

Osiris: You're only doing this to hurt yourself, and I will not be a part of it. Saint-14: Osiris. Answer the question. I need to know. Osiris: It doesn't matter! Not like this. Saint-14: It matters to me. Please. How did I first tell you that I loved you? Osiris: Saint... [sighs] You had asked me for something, some tactical report. I gave it to you, and you thanked me, and-and you said that you loved me. You said it as if you had, already said it a thousand times before. I was not ready to say it in return, but... it was not long until I was. Saint-14: That is not... I do not remember it this way. That is not what happened in my... my simulation. We were together in the Tower, overlooking the City. Talking about... something small. And I said what I felt in that moment. And my Osiris did not hesitate to say the same. Osiris: "Your Osiris?" Saint, you love me. It doesn't matter how or-or where that began. Not in such fine detail. Saint?

I reiterate. What is happening. We know that the story Osiris told is true because we got it as a lore tab. And we also know that we saved the right Saint. We didn't pick one randomly as he thinks, Osiris and the YW went to great lengths to do this. So what's going on. Did the Conductor mess him up? Saint has not, until now, exhibited any issues with memory and has never had different memories from Osiris or anyone else. What did she do to him when he was yoked? Did she use the power over Vex to mess with his memories? Implant memories the Vex might have in the network about him from other timelines? I'm losing it.

Speaking of the Conductor, we got a firm confirmation it's Maya in the lore tab from Polyphony. And it's MSund12 so that also tells us which Maya; one of the copies from the Vex Network. It also details stuff about her shock upon learning about the Collapse and all that was lost and how humanity never truly recovered. She thinks she can... "help" by using the Vex and simulations. This also links to the mysterious lore tabs on the exotic items from the season pass.

Anyway, I'm perishing.

[astraldrake]

I was rereading "Truth To Power" and I remembered your post about OXA / the Device / the Deep. In the "YOU MUST" entry, Medusa (possibly Savathûn) says, "YOU MUST CAST ALL THE LIFE YOU CHERISH INTO A BLACK HOLE." Do you think the "black hole" is related to the triangle portal and/or the Deep?

it's an interesting theory, but no, the black holes repeatedly referenced in truth to power aren't metaphorical, they're referring to actual black holes. with regards to truth to power, Ikora talks about it more in this Record during a conversation with Arach Jalaal. (it's way down near the bottom so you have to scroll a bit.) this conversation is essentially the answer (or rather answers) to the questions of, "what the hell is truth to power?" as well as, "why the hell is truth to power?" In addition it also asks new, more wild questions such as "Did Ikora just almost realize she was a fictional character?" and " Is Savathûn going to try and resurrect herself using the playerbase somehow?" (realistically the answer to that second one is obviously no but like, it's funny to think about)

[bungajurang]

Two Acorns for Abel

So, I asked ChatGPT to provide me with a short story prompt, and here's what it recommended:

"Write a short story about a person who discovers a hidden, magical door in their house that leads to a different time period. What adventures await them as they step through this mysterious doorway?"

Here's my attempt. A short story titled Two Acorns for Abel.

It was in late December that Abel visited her grandmother. The weather was chilly. Abel has just arrived when the heavens opened. She drove all the way from her apartment in the heart of Ember to her grandmother’s house in the suburb by herself. She parked her car as close as possible to the house, as her grandmother did not have a garage and the carport had been occupied by her uncle’s car. Her little run splashed water onto her long white skirt. She opened the door. Her aunt, wearing an apricot coloured apron, greeted her and hugged her tightly. 

“Oh, look at you! You look so…mature!”

“Well, she’s 25 years old, Esther. Welcome, my favourite niece!” Uncle Jack hugged her too

“You two are so sweet. Here, I brought you something.” Abel handed a little basket to Aunt Esther

“Aw, yarns!”

“Oh, great. Now your aunt would ignore me for hours. You know how much she loves crocheting.”

“Haha. But I brought you something too, Uncle Jack.” She took a box wrapped in pastel green paper. 

“A harmonica?! This is amazing! Thank you, Abel!” Uncle Jack hugged her again.

“Aw, come here. A family hug!” 

“Let’s get you settled up there. I’ve cleaned your room.” Aunt Esther guided Abel to the second floor. There are three rooms on the second floor. The closest room to the stair belongs to Tera, Abel’s cousin. The second room will be Abel’s for the next 3 months. The third room was her grandmother’s bedroom. 

Aunt Esther opened the second room. 

“I think we’ll move your luggage once the rain stops. I’ll leave you to rest now, honey. Dinner will be ready at 7, okay?”

“Thanks, Esther.” 

The room exuded a comforting warmth. The walls were adorned with rich, earthy tones–deep browns and warm reds that seemed to resonate with the scent that filled the air. The fragrance was an inviting musk, like a blend of aged oak and soft leather. Abel feels cocooned in a cosy embrace. The room was softly lit, with warm, amber-hued lights casting a gentle glow. I’m home, said Abel.

She approached a large window where she used to spend most of her time there–gazing at her grandmother’s garden while reading a book. Nana, as Abel usually called her grandmother, used to wear an apron everyday, a symbol of her nurturing nature and the delicious meals she lovingly prepared. Nana loved gardening too. In Nana’s presence, Abel feels accepted and cherished for who she is. Nana took the time to listen, to understand, and to offer guidance without judgement–although there were things that did not align with Nana's principles, she never forced Abel to do something. Her laughter was infectious, and Nana’s love formed Abel into an empathetic soul and gentle spirited individual.     

Abel missed Nana so much. Nana died of old age. She lived for 98 years, and closed her eyes doing what she loves and surrounded by the fruit of her labour–she died in her garden, sitting on a bench her husband made for her. Her husband, Abel’s grandfather, died 9 years ago at the age of 98. Nana and her husband were married for 63 years. They were probably married to each other again in their next life. 

Suddenly Abel heard something from the third room. It was the sound of a falling object, probably something glassy. She knew that in two months, the third room will be used by Oxa, Tera’s brother and Abel’s oldest cousin. But that room was supposed to be empty still. Maybe that was a sign from Nana, Abel said to herself. Abel didn’t believe in ghosts as something scary, but she believed that spirits exist along with us humans. Nana! Abel rushed to the third room. It was locked. Nana! She called her name again. Thud. She heard that sound again.

Abel went downstairs. 

“Hey, where were you going?” Uncle Jack sat on a sofa under the stairs.

“Uncle, do you have the key to the third room? May I borrow it?”

“Oh, it's on the key rack near the entrance. What do you need it for?”

“Oh, I just missed the view from Nana’s room. You know her window was my favourite daydreaming spot.”

“Haha. Yeah, you used to spend hours there looking out to the lake behind our house. Go on, honey.”

“Thanks, Uncle!”

Abel took the key and ran back to the second floor. She was standing in front of Nana’s room when she heard another sound. Thud. She heard it again. She inserted the key, and opened the door. The room was empty. But the window opened a little. Enough for two squirrels to jump in and throw an acorn party. As crazy as it might sound, these squirrels looked like they were playing together. They jumped from the oak’s branches to this room, playing catch with acorns. 

One squirrel looked at Abel with curious eyes. It has dark brown fur with a bushy tail, nearly as long as its body. Its eyes, small and alert, are dark and gleaming. Meanwhile the other squirrel looked at Abel with its dark brown but bright eyes. This squirrel is visibly smaller than the first one. Its fur is a softer shade of brown with a hint of grey, and its tail, while not as bushy as the first one's, is still beautifully tufted. 

The rain has stopped. The scent of earth and cool breeze wafted through the window in Nana's room. Bright light illuminates Nana's room, from somewhere, causing Abel to reflexively close her eyes. When she felt her eyes could adapt to the brightness, she opened them. She found herself in Nana's garden. Nana was there, sitting on her bench. There was a small table near the bench, where Nana would place her favourite afternoon drink: tea. 

“Nana…”  Nana looked at Abel with her dark brown eyes. 

“Nana!” Abel approached Nana slowly.

“Come, my Abel.” Nana opened her arms.

“Nana…” Abel sat beside Nana and hugged her. She missed Nana so much. Her warm embrace, her soft caress on her back, and her voice. Abel cried for some time.

“Nana, I am sorry for not coming to your funeral. I was… I can’t… I just couldn't believe you’re gone. Forever. I am sorry Nana.”

 “Don’t be sorry, my child.” Nana cares for her hair. “I also didn’t know I’d be dead that day. Haha. I was just doing my chores like usual, and suddenly I felt so sleepy. When I woke up, I was in my old bedroom where I used to share it with my sister. But it was one strange bedroom. I felt strangely familiar. How do I describe it… my stuff and my sister’s were all there, but when I looked outside the window, I saw my garden. This garden. It’s strange because my old bedroom was in my parents house, very far from here. And that’s when I realised, I have moved to eternity.”

“No need to worry, dear. Although we can no longer do fun things together, like we used to during your long holidays, I will always be in your heart. I am not going anywhere. You could find me in the flowers and plants that bloom here–please tell Esther and Jack to take care of my garden. Haha. You would find me in the wind that gently caresses your hair. Abel, you have a beautiful soul. You’re my lovely and sweet grandchild. Hardworking girl. You deserved all the good things this universe has to offer. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, or I will come as a ghost in their nightmare. Ok? Pinky promised me, you will continue living with no regrets. I will always love, love, and cherishes you, Abel.”

Lost of words. Abel couldn’t say anything but she kept hugging Nana. 

“You need to go, Abel. You can’t be here for too long. I didn’t know how you got yourself here, but I am sure you will find the exit door that way.” Nana pointed her finger to a pale blue door.

With one more hug, Abel says her farewell to Nana. “I will always love you too, Nana.”

Abel walked towards the pale blue door, when she suddenly remembered something.

“Nana, one question. In this life, did you marry grandpa again?”

Nana chuckles. “Darling, your grandpa can’t live without me. Even after we were dead, he found his way to me. I guess it was never ‘till death do us apart’, but ‘even death can’t do us apart’ for us.”

Abel laughed. “I knew it. Alright, last farewell. Rest easy, Nana. I will miss you everyday!” Abel opened the door and walked through it.

Abel woke up to the sound of Aunt Esther knocking on the door. 

“Hey, dinner’s ready. You had a good sleep, didn't you?”

Abel rubbed her eyes. “I slept?”

“Yes, for, maybe, two hours.” Aunt Esther noticed something, “Oh, is that acorns? Where did you get those?”

“I-I have no idea. I guess some squirrels gave it to me.” Abel winked at Aunt Esther.

“Hmm, okay. Now let’s get down, dinner’s ready. Tera’s here too.”

“Will do after I change my clothes, Esther.”

“Ok, hun.” She closed the door.

Staring at two acorns on her hand, Abel smiled.

[theonpilled]

comunque mia nonna pensava che Anna oxa stesse andando per gli 80. she's deaf not blind tho, so idk what the fuck came over her