AeonQuest Part One: Fallen Kingdom.

Hand of Maybe:
  **VI / XIII / MMXVII**
  [Do you wish to begin?]
  [Just kidding.]
  [There *is* no beginning. There is no *end*.]
  [Just... continuation. Do you want to do so? Continue?]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Continue, XIII.

Hand of Maybe:
  **PT. 1: FALLEN KINGDOM.**
  <http://music.disasterpeace.com/track/pressure>
  [Darkness.]
  [Fogging, oppressive darkness. It surrounds you, cutting into the edges of your vision as you groggily open your eyes.]
  [Where are you? *Who* are you?]
  [You're not quite sure.]

JOE:
  >somewhere, definitely not JOE; enter name

Hand of Maybe:
  [> Enter Name.]
  [...]
  [A droplet of memory returns.]
  [Your name is Cinavi Kanera; you know who you are.]
  [You do *not*, however, know *where* you are. Time to find out?]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Observe surroundings.

JOE:
  >do you know When you are?
  >perhaps you are at the beginning of reality. that would explain the darkness...

ath uesht:
  ((did we not just establish there are no beginnings here?))

Hand of Maybe:
  [You appear to be lying on the floor of a cold stone room. There are a variety of tall objects and structures scattered around the place, but you cannot fully make them out, through all of this *darkness* in your vision. At least, not from where you are on the floor. You have no idea when you are, by the way, and it doesn't matter.]

JOE:
  >get up
>check pockets, look for light source.

TwinBuilder:
  check inventory

ath uesht:
  >Move towards the objects, check inventory.

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  JOE, let there be no genesis, because beginnings are false and I am a consummate liar.

JOE:
  what

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Inspect darkness, whilst you're at all of this checking.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You rise. As you push your hands against the stone to elevate yourself, you notice something. There's some sort of symbol on your wrist you don't remember getting. Anyhow, you check your inventory.]
  __Inventory.__
| [ ] | [ ] | [ ] |
| [ ] | [ ] | [ ] |
| [ ] | [ ] | [ ] |

ath uesht:
  >Examine symbol, ideally rendering it as a character in a chat client, or the closest possible.

TwinBuilder:
  empty, then.

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  10/10 best inventory.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You examine the symbol.]
  https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/324262573451247616/324267366756253696/The_Logogram_of_Lives.png

TwinBuilder:
  knew it.

ath uesht:
  ((nice arts))

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > The Logogram of Lives.
  Oh fuck.

JOE:
  >look for a light source
>does the symbol glow?

ath uesht:
  Well, judging by the blurry outline, it probably does.

Crystal:
  Knew it.

ath uesht:
  Either way, the effect is excellent.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The symbol seems to glow dimly. It's burned *into* your flesh. Like an arcane tattoo.]

ath uesht:
  Or a scar.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Precisely.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Are there any exits?

JOE:
  [SF, agreed[about 'the effect is excellent' ]
>try to make it brighter
>if successful, use it to light your way

Hand of Maybe:
  [There is one large door on the wall behind you, bolted shut from the inside.]
  [How would you make the symbol brighter?]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Life is great as Cinavi Kanera :V

JOE:
  > who knows

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Inspect the tall objects.

JOE:
  >just try to i guess

Hand of Maybe:
  [You honestly don't have any clue where to even start. You can barely even *feel* your limbs. They're a bit asleep from all of that floor-lying. In any case, you examine the tall objects. There are three main things, barring the door, which necessitate closer inspection, perhaps. A filing cabinet in the far corner of the room, an odd mechanism with wheels composed of three long central glass tubes, and various large brass circles surrounding them, and a desk and chair a meter or two away from you, backed against some odd sort of empty circular well.]

Emerald:
  >exercise your limbs by moving around, and examine the desk

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Move to the filing cabinet, open it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [ERROR: CONFLICTING COMMANDS. PLEASE CHOOSE.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Emmy's command.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You examine the desk and chair.]
  [And, for that matter, stretch your limbs. But, the desk.]
  [A deep amethyst cloak hangs from the back of the chair. It's essentially just a standard office chair, quite frankly. Atop the desk is some odd brass object, sheaves of paper coated in text scratched out with black ink, and a bloodstained dagger embedded in the wood of the thing. Closer examination reveals there's an odd rectangular wooden box on the floor below the desk.]

Emerald:
  >pry out dagger

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. It appears to have a long, triangular blade. Further examination might yield more specific results, of course.]

Emerald:
  ((Hey guys, should we use the dagger to pry open the box if it's locked?))

JOE:
  >~~is it made of a dorrito~~

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Sure.

JOE:
  >(whats it made of)
waitreally?

ath uesht:
  >retrive cloak

Emerald:
  >pick up rectangular box and attempt to open to see if it's locked, after Bfury's command

Hand of Maybe:
  [Thaumium Knife: A short, bloodstained triangular dagger composed of finely-mixed thaumium. Sharpened to the utmost perfection, this blade is of unknown origin and purpose, but that no longer has any meaning, nor did it ever. Nothing has meaning in these darkened halls you traverse. Thus, you must repurpose it. It can serve as a weapon of defense and offense alike, if wielded properly.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Thaumium.
*Perfect.*

Hand of Maybe:
  [You also grab the cloak, sure. You store it in your inventory.]

ath uesht:
  *Excellent.*

JOE:
  [thats actually a thing though]
  [in thaumcraft]

ath uesht:
  >Equip Cloak

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  JOE, why do you think I pointed that out?
  > Inspect Cloak.

Emerald:
  >pick up box thingy

JOE:
  [ ithought you where comparing it to thyme or something]
  [since they sound similar]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  No, that's Thymium.

JOE:
  [i know]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Anyhow.

Emerald:
  ((Alright, conversation complete))

JOE:
  [i'm saying i thought you where comparing thaumium to thymium which is thyme]
[nvm]

Hand of Maybe:
  [Mage's Cloak: A violet cloak of ancient Vetasian design. It has two purposes. One, to look badass in the storm. Two, to actually protect the skin from any harmful madness of the sky. You're not *entirely* sure whose this is, but you certainly have some ideas.]

Emerald:
  >pick up box

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  oh noes i didn't study for my history of vetas test

Hand of Maybe:
  [You pick up the wooden box. It isn't really all that heavy, surprisingly, despite its size.]

ath uesht:
  consomme u get f for sur!!!

Emerald:
  >check if the box is locked

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Open the box if possible.

ath uesht:
  ^

JOE:
  > how can you have a guess? have more memories returned?

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Otherwise, pry it open with your Thaumium Knife that was PROBABLY JUST USED.

JOE:
  (or rather, what is the guess based on)

Hand of Maybe:
  [You check the box. It has a small slit you'd *imagine* leads to a lid, but there isn't really much indicating any sort of way to open it, beyond hinges on the back of the thing.]
[Your guess would have to be based on *you*, of course. You know who you are. You know your life, and a bit of history, and you'd *imagine* that this thing might belong to, say, the Lord-Archmage Nartheon, or his, ah, *successor.*]

Emerald:
  >use Dagger to pry open box with the slit

JOE:
  >recount everything you remember.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You're terribly sorry, but you literally do not have the time to go over your own life story. It's *rather* extensive. You shove the blade of the Thaumium Dagger into the slit in the box, which you recognize as being crafted of hazel wood, and forcibly pry it open. You then hear a metallic click from the front of the thing, and your prying gets you no further than that. Good? Bad? You're not sure.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Inspect the box's innards.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You push the lid back, and examine the contents of the box.]

JOE:
  >mentally summerize it while you do other stuff

Emerald:
  >think back to the last thing you/I remember

Hand of Maybe:
  [There are two moderately large vials of labeled fluid in two compartments of the box, one clear, and one tinted slightly red. There are five syringes in the largest compartment of the box, along with a roll of bandages, a vial of what you *think* is magetear, and a small lower compartment containing what you think are empty, used syringes.]
  [Oh, and that's easy.]
  [Prison.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > For trying to kill Ciryatur?

Hand of Maybe:
  [*The* Ciryatur Amnati.]
  [But this certainly isn't a prison cell.]

Emerald:
  >put everything except the used syringes in your Inventory, being careful not to prick yourself with the syringes

Hand of Maybe:
  [Are you sure you want to do that right now? You might miss a small little thing.]

Crystal:
  Hm.
  Examine the vials.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You read the labels and examine the vials. The one with the clear fluid in it reads "ЧЛОРПРОМАЗИНЕ", and is about half-full. The one with the red-tinted fluid in it reads "ѲЫБИТАЛ", and is *mostly* full.]

Emerald:
  >take a couple minutes to memorize the passive sounds of the room, so anything different would be easily noticed
  ((Paranoia play!))

Hand of Maybe:
  [There is no sound at all, save for the sounds your boots make against the stone floor.]

Crystal:
  CHLORPROMAZINE,
THYBITAL

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  CHLORPROMAZINE and THYBITAL
  GODDAMMIT CRYSTAL

JOE:
  ((its not paranoia if their really out to get you))

Emerald:
  >leave the boxes contents for now and check the filing cabinet

Hand of Maybe:
  [You carefully place the box on the desk, and move to examine the filing cabinet. There are three drawers on it.]

Emerald:
  >check the bottom drawer

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so, and find two bottles of ink, and a stack of four thick books that have *nothing* written in them.]

Emerald:
  >take the ink and check the middle drawer

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Place the books and ink in your inventory.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Knowledge is a god, and what use is for knowledge if you have nothing to record it with.

JOE:
  >check the first & last page of every book, just in case

Hand of Maybe:
  [You now check the middle drawer, after confirming that both the first and last pages of every book are empty. It has several used pens in it, sheets of blank paper, a couple of paper towls that look like they were used to step the flow of blood, and a single sheet of note-paper that is almost *entirely* unreadable in its annotations, scribbling, and flowing words, save for one small phrase near the end.]

Emerald:
  >check the small phrase near the end

Hand of Maybe:
  ["--СТ ПРИНСИПАЕ.

ОВИМАРИД, ВАРДИТ, ЕQ ТИС, НИ, АМА, МАР, ЕQ ГWЕ. ЫЕРСИД Һ ИЕПЕН Һ РОС КОМ УЦОСЦО ЕТИМ ИОИТРИ ЫЕРСИД. ПИ ИОБРЕҺЫ РВИ, АЛ ИОУЦОС ОПҺТЛҺ, ТЛҺ-Һ-ОП--"]
  [While you think that over, you incline your head slightly, and find that, wowie. There's text upon the ceiling, in splattered red paint, as well.]

Emerald:
  >put the piece of paper in one of the books in order to better preserve it, and check the words on the ceiling

Hand of Maybe:
  [You look at the words, and blink once. They shift entirely, into something understandable.
**The Rules™.
1: You are here. Here, there is no "there."
2: The only law is darkness.
3: Here, nothing can save you.
4: Do not let yourself find you.**]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  I would've just written gullible

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  KEK.

Hand of Maybe:
  ((KEK.))

ath uesht:
  KEK

JOE:
  wh

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Anyway Emmy I am a lazy fuck
  Play the game for me whilst I translate the Parth please

Emerald:
  Kk
  I'm actually partially working on it too

Hand of Maybe:
  (Dude, it's something you've read before.)

ath uesht:
  (in which everyone spends eons breaking a code they broke long ago)

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Is it an excerpt from the fucking Logogram

Emerald:
  >Pin The Rules to the channel, and take the blank sheets of paper

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Okay it isn't

Hand of Maybe:
  [You have no idea what you're talking about. Two different yous in that sentence.]

Emerald:
  ((Hey Consumer, do you have permission to pin?))
  >Take the blank sheets of paper

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  I do, but I won't do it without Erelye's permission.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Go ahead.]
  [You take the blank paper.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  YEP, IT'S A FUCKING LOGOGRAM EXCERPT.

ath uesht:
  Quality.

Emerald:
  Can I stop translating it now?
  >check the top drawer

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  "Passion, knowledge, and power, or, blue, red, and green. The arcana of the Order of Ros Kom is now my arcana. I shall use it, for I am the Changed God, God of Change, and nothing shall stand in my path. The path to a new continuum."

ath uesht:
  Presumably.

Emerald:
  ((So I'm power then, according to that :P))

Hand of Maybe:
  [There's nothing in the top drawer, save for one of those fancy self-playing audio tapes.]

Emerald:
  >listen to the tape
  ((Anyways Consumer, Erelye gave permission to pin))

ath uesht:
  ((I'm pretty sure i've heard that "is now my arcana" line somewhere, and i have the vague feeling it's a persona game. 3? I cannot remember.))

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:

Hand of Maybe:
  [It plays a voice you've never heard before.
“For the Archmage Ere--um of arcane, thaumotechnical, anomalous-research, and eldritch knowledge accumulated by Am--ut one of the Ichorium Drills loaned to me, a pallet of various things, presumably of use to him, a general-purpose infini--ransceiver, to allow contacting the Anachron or any vessel of its creation, and an entire cryogenics and genomic research suite, containing five thousand Vetasian Elves on ice, to be awakened at his discr--tion.”]

Emerald:
  ((I find it funny how there's literally a word for "a residence where all residents are secretly dead"))

Hand of Maybe:
  [The recording isn't exactly stable, of course. A bit static-filled and crackly.]

Emerald:
  >close all drawers and go check out the tube machine, maybe I/you recognize it

Hand of Maybe:
  [You walk over to the thing, closing all of the drawers in the process. An odd fourth rod, seemingly made out of the same material as a mirror, warps into existence as you approach the thing, circling the three main glass tubes. Each tube is filled with a mysterious substance, and labeled accordingly.]

ath uesht:
  Seemingly made out of same material of a mirror in that it is reflective, or that it is glasslike, or both?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Both.]

Emerald:
  >grab the rod and insert it in one of the other tubes

ath uesht:
  >Read labels before doing that

Emerald:
  ((I really need to remember to bookmark that dictionary))

Hand of Maybe:
  [The first tube is filled with a throbbing sickly green energy. Its label reads "ЕПИСТАНТИѲЕСИС." The second tube is filled with pure liquid blackness, and its label reads "НОХ." The third tube is filled with a substance you can't quite discern the color of. It seems black, but also blue, and also amethyst. Eyeballs seem to periodically appear in the fluid and stare at you before disappearing. Its label reads "ЦѲКИЛ-ҺАРЛОѲ."]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  EPISTANTITHESIS, NOX, CTHKIL-HARLOTH.

ath uesht:
  I suspect this relates to the arcana mentioned.

Hand of Maybe:
  [It is of note that the entire wheeled device seems light enough to easily push around on those wheels it has.]

Emerald:
  Imma guess that Nox means night, based on Latin and stuff
  >insert mirror rod thingy into Nox

Hand of Maybe:
  [How? The three central tubes are airtight, it seems, and the orbital mirror rod doesn't seem to be connected to any sort of insertion point, if there is one.]

Emerald:
  >prod the tube with the mirror to observe what happens when they connect

Hand of Maybe:
  [You prod the tube of nox with the mirror rod. For several seconds, your vision goes entirely black. You can only hear *terrifying* incoherent whispers and the pounding of your own heart until your vision slowly becomes a thing again, and there is again silence.]

Emerald:
  >...Волофт. Prod the first tube with the green energy

Hand of Maybe:
  [Are you sure?]

Emerald:
  >based on that, no
  >abort
  >step back and toss the mirror rod at nox to see what happens
  >lightly

Hand of Maybe:
  [You toss the levitating rod at the nox tube. The glass thing cracks slightly upon the impact, and you can *hear* the darkness at the edges of your vision whispering to you incessantly now. It doesn't seem to subside, either.]

Emerald:
  >that was a very bad idea

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > STOP THIS FOOLISH ACTIVITY
  > THERE ARE BETTER WAYS TO KILL YOURSELF

ath uesht:
  >ABORT

Emerald:
  >take the bandages from the box and attempt to fix the crack

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > I DON'T THINK YOU BANDAGE NOX TUBES

Emerald:
  >why not?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You take the bandages from the box, and attempt to fix the crack. It seems to work.]
  [Until the bandage disintegrates into pure liquid void, at least.]

Emerald:
  >....go back to the box and take the bandages, syringes, and vials, including the magetear

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so.]

Emerald:
  >take the rod and gently toss it at the green tube now

Hand of Maybe:
  [Do you really want to do that.]

Emerald:
  >based on how the nox reacted, this should give me/you a limited version of what the green tube does

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > NO
  > DO NOT DO THAT

Hand of Maybe:
  [You refrain from tossing the rod at the tube.]

Emerald:
  ((Science for the science god!))

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > THAT IS A VERY BAD IDEA AND THERE ARE BETTER WAYS TO EXPERIMENT
  We can experiment when we are not stuck in a shitty room.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You aren't stuck. The door's right there, and, again, it's bolted shut from the *inside*.]

Emerald:
  >open the door and take the rod off the ground

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  I think we're done here.

Emerald:
  >who knows, maybe we can use it as a projectile

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Not as a projectile.

Emerald:
  >anyways, open the door

Hand of Maybe:
  [You unbolt and open the door. It leads out to a long hallway. There is a bookshelf on the opposite wall some distance down, and a door with barred windows right in front of you. The wall on the *far* end of the hall is marked with a spray-painted red x.]

ath uesht:
  >look though barred window

Emerald:
  >peer into the bars

Hand of Maybe:
  [There's somebody in there. An elderly man. He chuckles to himself, you see through the shadows and the darkness, clutching at his head.]

ath uesht:
  Is the door locked.

Hand of Maybe:
  [He mutters something under his breath fanatically, not seeing you. And, yes.]
  **Almaerapha: The Wheel of Night turns eternal! Life, Autumnus, death, regeneration, change—it is all the same, is it not? Fear guides us to the inevitable end.**

Emerald:
  >back away
  >head over to the bookshelf

Hand of Maybe:
  [You back away, and head over to the bookshelf.]

TwinBuilder:
  Hm. I just got here, so. Examine bookshelf.

Hand of Maybe:
  [There's nothing of interest on it. *Literally* every single book is *entirely* blank. There are papers scattered on the floor around it haphazardly that are similarly blank.]

Emerald:
  >take the blank papers and put it with the blank papers we/I already have
  ((I'm not sure which pronoun to use))

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. There's odd scuff marks on the floor that the papers seem to have been obscuring.]

Emerald:
  >examine the scuff marks, and check the Inventory

Hand of Maybe:
  [It appears as if something was pulled *back* from where the bookshelf presently is.]
  __Inventory.__
| [Thaumium Knife] | [Mage’s Cloak] | [Four Empty Books w/ TLoL Page] |
| [2 Bottles of Ink] | [Blank Papers] | [Hazel Box] |
| [ ] | [ ] | [ ] |

TwinBuilder:
  >TLoL Page

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Slide book towards the man.

Emerald:
  >attempt to move bookshelf
  >do Consumers thing instead

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Try not to have him notice you.

Hand of Maybe:
  [To do that, you'd have to toss the book through the bars. Do you want to do that?]

Emerald:
  ((I must admit, I'm liking this))

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  This is stupid as shit, but Erelye showed me something that would mean that this guy could theoretically instantly fill out the book.
  Also, on second thought, not yet.

Emerald:
  >move the bookshelf away, as quietly as possible

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. There's a large voidmetal blast door hidden behind the shelf, with a keypad attached to the frame.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Inspect keypad.

Emerald:
  ((Erelye, don't forget we took the rod thing))

Hand of Maybe:
  [There are only four keys, each bearing a symbol you can neither make heads nor tails out of. Suddenly, four spikes of pain shoot across your body from the tattoo on your wrist, and you know the symbols to mean stardust, nebula, solar, and vortex, from left to right and top to bottom. Also, noted.]

Emerald:
  >examine tattoo on wrist

Hand of Maybe:
  https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/324262573451247616/324285988119642113/The_Logogram_of_Lives.png

Emerald:
  >oh right

ath uesht:
  ((If i'm not incorrect, those symbols line up with the pillars proceeding the Moon Lord.)

Emerald:
  >touch the door with the rod

ath uesht:
  ((Probably unrelated, but still.))

Emerald:
  ((Yeah you're right, they do))

Hand of Maybe:
  [Nothing happens when you touch the door with the rod.]

Emerald:
  >shrug, and move the bookshelf back in place

Hand of Maybe:
  [Are you sure?]

Emerald:
  >that makes me suspicious, but yes

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so.]

Emerald:
  >move down to the red x on the end of the hallway

Hand of Maybe:
  [You walk over to the red X. There's nothing of note about it, really, save for the fact that there is a red arrow on the ground before it pointing to the wall it marks.]

Emerald:
  >check back down the hallway to see if anything has changed, then place your/my hand in the center of the X

Hand of Maybe:
  [Nothing has changed, and nothing occurs when you place your hand on the X.]

Emerald:
  >go back to the room we were in, and roll the tubes down to the x
  ((I remembered that the device had wheels))
  >try to avoid placing your hand near the crack in the nox

Hand of Maybe:
  [You roll the thing down to the X, putting your hands on the brass rings around the device to guide it. Nothing happens as you stop before the X.]

Emerald:
  >position it so that if I/you walked away, the green thingy would be facing towards me/you

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so.]

Emerald:
  ((Time for a bad idea!))
  >as an extra precaution, begin moving the bookshelf down the hallway and changing its orientation such that it is parallel to the wall with the X

Hand of Maybe:
  [You move the shelf so that it can serve as a blast shield. As you do so, you note the blast door and keypad are now gone.]
  [They seem to have vanished.]

Emerald:
  >walk over to the device and throw the rod as hard as you can in the opposite direction, and shrug. Whatever happened with the door cannot be investigated with the current meager resources
  >after that, place the bookshelf about that far away from the device
  ((This is a terrible idea, but I'm doing it anyways))

Hand of Maybe:
  [Are you suggesting that you throw the rod *at* the tubes, or *away* from the tubes.]

Emerald:
  >the first time, away

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. Nothing happens whatsoever.]

Emerald:
  >and then I/you grab the rod, walk over to the bookshelf, and throw the rod with all of my/your strength at the green thing, then moving behind the bookshelf

Hand of Maybe:
  [You throw the rod at the device with all your strength, leaping behind the bookshelf for cover.]
  [Even *through* the wood, you see wall erupt into multicolored light as a *massive* explosion rocks the building you are presently in. The hallway fills with an off-color smoke. With an unsuprised tone, after the blast, the old man calls down the hallway.]

Emerald:
  ((Improvised explosives!))

Hand of Maybe:
  **Almaerapha: Oh, yes yes yes. The Arcana is the means by which all is revealed. That’s the secret, young one! Six one three one seven!**

ath uesht:
  i hope we didn't implode anything important to move forward

Hand of Maybe:
  [Well, there's only one way to find out.]

ath uesht:
  whatever we did though

TwinBuilder:
  Check what happened.

ath uesht:
  we certainly didn't implode it
  ^

Hand of Maybe:
  [You look past the shelf. There is a *gaping* hole in the wall, and another hallway just beyond it. You can *hardly* see through all the smoke and the darkness flowing about in the corners of your vision, no longer malignantly muttering.]

Bomber57:
  Try to clear your head and cautiously press on through the gaping hole.

TwinBuilder:
  Hm. Why have people come to the opinion that we don't want Almaerapha finding us.

ath uesht:
  ^

Bomber57:
  Any opposition to this thoooough?

TwinBuilder:
  Kinda. I want to see what the deal with Almaerapha is first.

Emerald:
  >^

Bomber57:
  Fair enough.

Emerald:
  >note that improvised explosives are fun

ath uesht:
  I'd like to reiterate that this arcana stuff sounds like it's from a persona game. The context of the infomation implied it was a final boss of sorts speaking it? Eh. I've heard a few things hinting at it, but nothing definate.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You don't really think so. For all you know, there could've been a *cave-in* instead! You could've died. But, all's well that ends well, you suppose.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  (Erelye actually watched the Persona 3 anime a while back)

Emerald:
  >walk back over to the old man

Hand of Maybe:
  ((^.))

TwinBuilder:
  Hm. Maybe stay out of sight of the figure, but talk to him?
  So that he can't see us, but he can hear us.

Hand of Maybe:
  [What do you say?]

TwinBuilder:
  ((Thinking of saying 'solidus.'))

Emerald:
  >ask him what the sequence of numbers mean

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Say "Solidus."

Hand of Maybe:
  [ERROR: CONFLICTING COMMANDS.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Follow the Path Twin suggested

Hand of Maybe:
  [> Say "Solidus."]
  **Almaerapha: And a XII to you too.**

Emerald:
  >ask him what the sequence of numbers mean that he said in response to multicolored explosion

Hand of Maybe:
  **Almaerapha: They don't *mean* anything, Cinavi Kanera. I'm sure you could figure out the date if you tried hard enough, after all.**

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  ...OH MY KEK

Emerald:
  >go back down and move the bookshelf to where it previously was

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so.]

Emerald:
  Well played, Erelye
  >move the bookshelf out of the way again

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. There's still nothing where the door previously was.]

Emerald:
  >check to see if the smoke has cleared at all

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > "Do you understand the nature of Here, Almaerapha? Can you enlighten us?"

Hand of Maybe:
  [Not particularly.]
  [> "Do you understand the nature of Here, Almaerapha? Can you enlighten us?"]
  **Almaerapha: What do you want me to say. Here is Here. That's all there is to it. There is no There.**

Emerald:
  ((Shall we proceed?))

Bomber57:
  ((hah i get it, damn))

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > "Why are we here?"

Hand of Maybe:
  [> "Why are we here?"]
**Almaerapha: Do you want the existential answer, or the actual answer, because I'm contractually obligated not to tell you the second one.**

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > "Fuck."

ath uesht:
  riip

Hand of Maybe:
  [> "Fuck."]
**Almaerapha: That sounds like something you'd say.**

Emerald:
  >head down the hallway

TwinBuilder:
  > Alright then, the existential answer.

Hand of Maybe:
  [> "Alright then, the existential answer."]

JOE:
  >the actual answer, with a hint of existensialism

Hand of Maybe:
  **Almaerapha: You're here because some guy wanted to tell a story through games and darkness, friend. Sucks to be you.**

TwinBuilder:
  Makes sense.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Almaerapha: Puppetmasters. Can't ever trust them.**

Emerald:
  >"do you have any plot-related cryptic advice to give?"

Bomber57:
  ((Perhaps we could say these are... Riddles In The Dark.))

Hand of Maybe:
  [What plot? This isn't some fairy tale.]
  [This is Real Life™.]

Emerald:
  >"do you have any cryptic advice to give?"

ath uesht:
  This is why we should clearly round up all the puppetmasters, and offload them at the nearest mime-colony.

Hand of Maybe:
  [>"do you have any cryptic advice to give?"]
**Almaerapha: Thirteen.**

Emerald:
  >"normal advice is also accepted"

TwinBuilder:
  Death has come to your little town, Sheriff. You can either ignore it or you can help me to stop it.
  Et cetera.

Emerald:
  ((Shall we move on?))

TwinBuilder:
  "Do you have any idea why this logogram is on our wrist?"

Hand of Maybe:
  [There is no response.]

Emerald:
  >head down the hallway through the explosive formed hole

TwinBuilder:
  ((I... okay then. Fine.))
  > Do that, I guess.

Emerald:
  ((Did you have other questions to ask? Sorry))

Hand of Maybe:
  [You head down the hall, through the hole you made. The stones of the floor seem a bit weak under your feet.]
  [Warranted, because they then give way, and you fall beneath the ground, blocks of crumbling stone falling around you.]

Bomber57:
  Welp.

TwinBuilder:
  ЛУ.

Emerald:
  >repeatedly curse as falling

TwinBuilder:
  "Yell the word 'solidus' repeatedly while you fall."

Hand of Maybe:
  [You *violently* Curse in fear as you plummet through an eternal blackness.]
  [Sure.]

Emerald:
  >check inventory

TwinBuilder:
  I don't see why it would have changed from the last time we looked.

Emerald:
  ((">make impromptu parachute using books and paper"))

Hand of Maybe:
  __Inventory.__
| [Thaumium Knife] | [Mage’s Cloak] | [Four Empty Books w/ TLoL Page] |
| [2 Bottles of Ink] | [Blank Papers] | [Hazel Box] |
| [ ] | [ ] | [ ] |

[It is of note that the Mirror Rod was destroyed by the explosion.]

TwinBuilder:
  Try putting on the Mage's Cloak?
  See if it does anything.

Emerald:
  ((Well, we would look badass to anyone able to see us, at least))

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. Other than looking kind of badass and being made for a *much* taller person than you, it doesn't really do anything on its own.]
  [Perhaps even a foot taller than you, give or take a couple inches.]

TwinBuilder:
  Hm. Try to concentrate on the logogram on your wrist to tap into its presumably latent power.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You concentrate on the symbol in your wrist.]
  [...]
  [Nothing happens.]

TwinBuilder:
  Concentrate *harder.*

Emerald:
  >make the most of air resistance and spread yourself out

Hand of Maybe:
  [Suddenly, before you can think about anything else, you slam into the *wall* of another room. Hard. Your vision swims for a few seconds as you attempt to collect your bearings.]

Emerald:
  >wonder how you hit a wall from falling

TwinBuilder:
  Look around when you're ready.

Hand of Maybe:
  [*Oland.*]
[You look around. It appears to be some side-room off of a *much* larger chamber. There's an open aperture, wholly doorless, leading into what appears to be another room.]

Emerald:
  >examine the room you are currently in for items of interest

Hand of Maybe:
  [There is nothing in the room, save for the aforementioned aperture in the wall, and yourself.]

TwinBuilder:
  Head through the aperture.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You head through, only to stop abruptly. It appears like this chamber was built *high* into the wall of a much larger one, and there's no real way down without scaling the wall.]
  [You can vaguely see the details of the massive room below. They seem... oddly familiar.]

TwinBuilder:
  What are they like?

Hand of Maybe:
  [A long table with many chairs around it in the center of the rectangular room, and an onyx throne embedded in the far wall. Something you *don't* recall, however, are the rotting corpses and skeletons scattered all around, especially the one in the throne.]

Emerald:
  >meander over to the throne

Bomber57:
  ((Is it what I think it is though?))

Hand of Maybe:
  [You'd have to scale down the wall first! Are you sure you want to do that?]

Bomber57:
  I don't think we have any way of just scaling down this wall without breaking our legs, Em.

TwinBuilder:
  Nnnnnah.

Emerald:
  >no

TwinBuilder:
  Anything of interest in this chamber?

Bomber57:
  Nah it has to be Twin. Coincidences and magic are real.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The one you're in? Nah.]

TwinBuilder:
  Call up inventory real quick.

Hand of Maybe:
  __Inventory.__
| [Thaumium Knife] | [Mage’s Cloak] | [Four Empty Books w/ TLoL Page] |
| [2 Bottles of Ink] | [Blank Papers] | [Hazel Box] |
| [ ] | [ ] | [ ] |

TwinBuilder:
  What's in the Hazel Box?

Emerald:
  >recollect what the magetear vial would do if you drank it

TwinBuilder:
  *That* would probably be a very bad idea.

Hand of Maybe:
  [There are two moderately large vials of labeled fluid in two compartments of the box, one clear reading "ЧЛОРПРОМАЗИНЕ", and one tinted slightly red reading "ѲЫБИТАЛ". There are five syringes in the largest compartment of the box, along with a roll of bandages, a vial of what you think is magetear, and a small lower compartment containing what you think are empty, used syringes.]
  [It is of note some of the bandages were destroyed by pure void attempting to stem the flow of the nox tube.]

TwinBuilder:
  CHLORPROMAZINE and THYBITAL.
  (I assume that the Ѳ is TH.)

Hand of Maybe:
  [The former is half-full, the latter mostly full, as well.]
  [And yes.]

TwinBuilder:
  Chlorpromazine (CPZ), marketed under the trade names Thorazine and Largactil among others, is an antipsychotic medication. It is primarily used to treat psychotic disorders such as schizophrenia. Other uses include the treatment of bipolar disorder, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, nausea and vomiting, anxiety before surgery, and hiccups that do not improve following other measures. It can be given by mouth, by injection into a muscle, or into a vein.
  ...Nothing for thybital, though.
  Seeing as we don't have a split personality I don't think we need to worry about that one. But thybital...
  Fuck. We should have asked Almaerapha.

Hand of Maybe:
  [It might be of note, for context, that you found this box under the desk whose chair bore the Mage's Cloak.]

Bomber57:
  Well not like we can go back there, at least not right now.

TwinBuilder:
  Okay. I kinda want to do the obvious(?) thing and inject ourselves with thybital.
  But that really doesn't seem like a good idea.
  We need to figure out what it does first.

Hand of Maybe:
  [But how?]

Emerald:
  Syringes
  That's how

TwinBuilder:
  Take out a blank paper.
  Pour a drop of the liquid on it.
  See if anything happens.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. Nothing happens.]

TwinBuilder:
  Okay, so it doesn't, like, eat away at skin or anything.
  Try pouring a drop of ink where you put the drop of thybital?

ath uesht:
  what kind of shitty medicine would do that tbh

Hand of Maybe:
  [Again, nothing happens.]

ath uesht:
  i can understand science but if a medicine eats at your skin
  its probably gonna eat at your blood vessels
  and organs
  and so on and so forth

TwinBuilder:
  Yeah, fair.

Emerald:
  The question is, would it be better injected or digested?

TwinBuilder:
  Can we save our game.
  And reload it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [What do you mean, "save?"]
  [**Do you mean to say this is some kind of game?**]

TwinBuilder:
  I'm... gonna take that as a no.

ath uesht:
  @Emerald Injection is more efficent than digestion.

TwinBuilder:
  Fuck it. Inject yourself with thybital.

ath uesht:
  Digestion tends to filter some of it out.

TwinBuilder:
  All in favor?

ath uesht:
  WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Hand of Maybe:
  [Are you sure?]

TwinBuilder:
  Not entirely, no??

Hand of Maybe:
  [You should probably make a decision when you're certain, then.]

TwinBuilder:
  Does the thaumium knife have any weird properties.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Other than being rather unnaturally sharp? No.]

TwinBuilder:
  Okay then.
  One last thing I'd like to try. Pour tiny drops of thybital and chlorpromazine onto a blank paper so that they're both in the same spot.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. Nothing happens in particular. They don't mix, no matter how much you try to make it so.]

TwinBuilder:
  Hm, okay.
  Inject yourself with thybital, I guess. Is everyone okay with this?
  ...Anyone?

Bomber57:
  Hm. Have we tried getting any sort of idea on what it smells like? You know, waft the scent of it so you smell it indirectly and hopefully don't go unconscious/die instantly/etc.

TwinBuilder:
  Try that.

Bomber57:
  Could be a good indicator, or just make us more paranoid.

Hand of Maybe:
  [It doesn't really smell like anything. The syringes smell like rubbing alcohol a bit, however. Ever so faintly.]
  [Your move?]

TwinBuilder:
  ...Go for it.

Bomber57:
  Well then Twin, should we just dive in?
  Go for it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [*How much* thybital do you inject yourself with, actually.]

TwinBuilder:
  Enough to fill a quarter of a syringe.

Bomber57:
  ^

Hand of Maybe:
  [You inject yourself with a quarter of a syringe worth of thybital. You stand still whilst you feel it coursing through your veins...]
  [And then it just stops. The feeling, that is.]

TwinBuilder:
  ...Okay then.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Well, okay. *Numbs significantly.* Same thing.]
  [And so do, you know, any *other* feelings you were feeling at the time.]

TwinBuilder:
  *Fuck.*
  Wait.
  Maybe not *fuck*, actually?
  I'm assuming this means that we can't feel pain.

Bomber57:
  Well looks like we have some insane painkillers here, though not feeling anything could have its downsides.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You would most likely be correct.]

Bomber57:
  I'm sure we wont go off the deep end because of this, right?
  :)

TwinBuilder:
  Now we can just *jump* off. :)

Hand of Maybe:
  [Not feeling anything could certainly become a problem, but this stuff *has* to wear off eventually, right? After all, you only took a quarter of a syringe's worth.]

TwinBuilder:
  Not exactly reassuring.

Bomber57:
  At least we have about 3/4ths of it left for later. You wanna confirm that action Twin?

TwinBuilder:
  I don't think we should just jump off
  Because it doesn't matter if we can't feel pain, we'll still have injuries

Bomber57:
  Very true.

TwinBuilder:
  Which would suck.
  i ahve a stupid idea
  could we load up a syringe with ink.
  And does the ink have any abnormal properties that you can determine

Hand of Maybe:
  [It looks to be regular ink.]

TwinBuilder:
  hm

Bomber57:
  I almost feel like it is mundane ink-- yep.

TwinBuilder:
  what happens if you write with magetear.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You tell me.]

TwinBuilder:
  ._.
  load up a little magetear into a syringe...
  ...and try to write something with it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [What, precisely?]

TwinBuilder:
  how about ИСТАТРОН.
  I *think* I spelled that right.
  write onto the blank piece of paper, I should add

Bomber57:
  I'm sure magetear can forgive some misspellings.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. There's an *incredibly* dull prickling coming incessantly from your logogram, but nothing seems to happen. Yet.]

TwinBuilder:
  examine the logogram.

Hand of Maybe:
  https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/324262573451247616/324303542397698052/The_Logogram_of_Lives.png

TwinBuilder:
  no, I know what it *looks* like.
  I want to know if it's changed
  like, color wise, or if it's gotten bigger, or something.

Hand of Maybe:
  [It flickers occasionally with multicolored light. If you were to check with your hand, you'd find that the flickering was perfectly in tune with your heartbeat.]
  ((Okay, I actually have to go for like thirty minutes. There's only a *little* left of this session, so will you two be here when I get back? If so, sit tight. Shit gets Real™.))

Bomber57:
  ((I'll be here, unless the storm destroys my internet or something.))

Hand of Maybe:
  ((Alright, sweet. ✌ ))

TwinBuilder:
  ((I'll be here.))

Hand of Maybe:
  @TwinBuilder @Bomber57

Emerald:
  ((I'm having dinner but I'll be here if I can))

Hand of Maybe:
  [Now that you've injected yourself with thybital on the ledge above some sort of throne room, what do you do?]

Bomber57:
  Any estimates on how big the drop is?

Hand of Maybe:
  [By your guesstimate, probably around thirty feet.]

Bomber57:
  The wall is made of stone, right? If so, our Thaumium Knife should be able to cut into it since it is unusually sharp, I believe.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You test this out, and confirm your theory.]

Bomber57:
  Though we only have one knife, so I dunno what sort of rock climbing we can do on a 90 degree straight drop thirty feet up with only one such implement, but it is a start.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You're sure you'll figure *something* out.]

Bomber57:
  Lean over the edge and, reaching down, use the knife to try and cut a bit of the wall away. The theory here is you could make a ledge you could grip on to. Though I dunno what our grip strength is like, hah.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Not exactly *extraordinary*, but it'll probably suffice.]
  [Hopefully.]

TwinBuilder:
  Hopefully.
  I say we go for it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You carve yourself a handhold, and, very cautiously, take hold of it, hanging upon the wall. Now what?]

Bomber57:
  Step two to this fantastic plan is to carve another handhold slightly lower than the last one, since it'd only make sense that the knife is in our other hand.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do that. What an incredibly complex plan you've got.]

TwinBuilder:
  Do that a bunch of times.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do that a bunch of times, and climb down. You nearly fall about five feet above the ground, but it wouldn't have mattered either way, regardless of whether or not it actually happened. You note that, with every step downwards of your descent, you could see odd stone pillars building themselves *up* out of the shadows, one step at a time. Anyhow, you're on the ground now, with loads of dead people.]

TwinBuilder:
  Check for anything interesting.
  Besides the dead people.
  We all know dead people are interesting.

Bomber57:
  Yeah hah.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Well, there's a throne on the far end of the room. And it's made of onyx. You could almost call it an Onyx Throne.]

Bomber57:
  Inspect this appropriately named throne made of onyx.

TwinBuilder:
  Head over to this thro--^

Hand of Maybe:
  [You inspect the throne. There's a dead guy on it, rotted and skeletal. He's got weird mechanical augmentations, and a missing left leg. Oh, yeah, and the eye of his that *isn't* covered by a metal plate and a blinking red sensor is dripping with what you think are *liquid* shadows.]

Bomber57:
  Curses, if only we had an empty vial/phial/etc.

TwinBuilder:
  Could we fill a syringe with this liquid shadow.

Hand of Maybe:
  [I don't see why not.]

Emerald:
  >fill a syringe with liquid shadow

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so.]

Emerald:
  >fill two, in fact

Hand of Maybe:
  [Sure. You do that. You now have two syringes of the stuff.]

Bomber57:
  Might as well go on a corpse inspection party, then. See if there are any at the long table for starters.

Hand of Maybe:
  [None.]
  [They all seem to be lying on the ground, or propped up against the pillars.]

Bomber57:
  Right, those odd pillars. Check one of the pillar corpses out I suppose.'

Hand of Maybe:
  [The particular one you examine seems to be in full voidmetal plate-armor, save for the helm. Its skull still has rotten pieces of flesh stuck to it.]

Bomber57:
  @TwinBuilder Yo buddy, you think it is safe for us to desecrate this corpse and take its dangerous armor?

TwinBuilder:
  I...
  Hm.
  Probably not?
  But let's do it anyway.

Bomber57:
  Excellent.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You loot the plate armor. The body remains as motionless as ever.]
  [It is of note that the plate armor is *entirely* too big for you.]

TwinBuilder:
  That won't stop us.
  kek

Emerald:
  >take it anyways!

TwinBuilder:
  Investigate another pillarcorpse.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You take the armor, and investigate the next corpse.]

Emerald:
  >check to see if there's *any* piece of the armor that will fit

Hand of Maybe:
  [Nah. Not even the gauntlets.]
  [The next corpse is about half-decomposed. It seems to be wearing tattered crimson robes, faded by age.]
  [They're *covered* in dried blood.]

ath uesht:
  >loot robes

Hand of Maybe:
  [You take the robes.]

Bomber57:
  These ones too big for us too? Pretty sure robes like these still ought to have some magic in them.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Those things gross you out a little. Regardless of size.]
  [You don't trust much of the clothing in this room. Or any of it. It all seems sort of... sinister to you, you suppose.]
  [Just like the corpses that bear it.]

TwinBuilder:
  Examine the Onyx King's metal eye.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Scarlet Optic: A metallic device that covers about a quarter of the head. In place of the eye is a blinking red contraption. Judging by the design, whoever made this was fitting it for *incredibly* severe burns.]

TwinBuilder:
  Take it and wear it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [It's fused to the bone.]

TwinBuilder:
  Cut it from the bone with your knife.

Emerald:
  ~~>TAKE IT ANYWAYS!~~

Hand of Maybe:
  [Moreover, it's got an attached tube at the top that connects it to some external machinery or other outside of the room. Life support, you reckon, by the looks of this guy's mechanics.]

Emerald:
  >how about we not do that
  >check other corpses!

Bomber57:
  Seems like the life support gave out eventually. I hope.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You hope as much.]
  [You check some more corpses. There's one holding a vial of water, one with a feather pen, and one with a defused handheld nuclear bomb.]

TwinBuilder:
  Are there any exits, actually?

Emerald:
  Based on how *everyone* is dead, I'm guessing they were either poisoned or magic death

TwinBuilder:
  Oh, take the first two. Leave the bomb.

Emerald:
  >take the pen and the water
  Ninja'd
  Twinja'd actually Kek

Hand of Maybe:
  [There *was* a massive exit, but there seems to be a large pile of immovable rubble blocking it.]

TwinBuilder:
  ...Shit. That's kind of a problem.

Hand of Maybe:
  [And, you take the water, and then your inventory's full.]

Emerald:
  >drop a book to pick up the pen

Hand of Maybe:
  [Not going to work. You have to drop *all* of the books and the TLoL page to do that, as they take up one slot collectively.]

TwinBuilder:
  If we're wearing the cloak, shouldn't that remove it from our inventory.

Emerald:
  >or, if possible, just put the pen in the box

Hand of Maybe:
  [You know what? Sure. The quill goes in the cloak's former slot.]

Emerald:
  >inventories are weird

TwinBuilder:
  Neato.
  Try to see if any of the corpses are carrying weapons. Like explosives.

Emerald:
  Why are we carrying the other robe, anyways?

TwinBuilder:
  It looks badass.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Beyond the defused nuclear bomb? There's loads of heavy halberds, massive greatswords dulled by use, and an unloaded *musket* of some sort, broken in half. All of the metal weapons seem to be peculiarly... well, *rusted.*]

Emerald:
  That's the Cloak, why the robe?

Hand of Maybe:
  [As you observe, you think you see the rust *visibly* creeping down the length of one greatsword.]

TwinBuilder:
  Uh.
  Examine the corpse with the aforementioned greatsword.

Hand of Maybe:
  [There's no corpse. There's just an empty suit of armor that smells absolutely *rancid.*]

TwinBuilder:
  Okay, okay, okay. I want to go home now.
  this is not okay.
  examine the logogram. see if it's changed.

Hand of Maybe:
  [It is no longer flickering with multicolored light in step with your heartbeat.]

TwinBuilder:
  damnit.
  have the effects of the syringe faded, actually?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Well, let's see. You've been down here for *about* an hour, and you only took a quarter of a *syringe*--not even a quarter of the *vial*--so you'd say the numbness of feeling is on its way out. Judging by the combination of intense dread and disgust *slightly* tinged by numbness, at least.]

TwinBuilder:
  Should we take more, then?

Bomber57:
  Shame this strange rust only seems to effect metal.

Hand of Maybe:
  [*Should* you?]

TwinBuilder:
  If a quarter of a syringe was enough to remove all feeling, what would *more* do...?
  Try the other liquid, actually.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You recall that's an *antipsychotic*. Are you *sure* you want to take it?]

TwinBuilder:
  Eh, no, I suppose. I don't think we're insane. (Yet.)
  Are there any other exits besides the one that's currently inaccessible?

Hand of Maybe:
  [And the way you came down, which led to a room with nothing in it? No.]

TwinBuilder:
  Then we need to make that exit accessible.
  ...

Hand of Maybe:
  [As it was said, the rubble is *essentially* immovable.]

TwinBuilder:
  Look at the logogram and tell it that you want the rubble to be moved.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You try to talk to the logogram. Nothing happens.]

TwinBuilder:
  Think at the logogram, believing with all your heart and all your might that what you want more than anything else is for that rubble to be moved.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Trying with all your might, you get the logogram to... pitifully spark a bit?]

Bomber57:
  Should we try the magetear again? It was at least sort of pulsating in tune with our heartbeat before, but that wore off before we tried this.

TwinBuilder:
  Do you mean the thybital.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Surely, you're forgetting about *something.*]

Bomber57:
  I dunno if a defused handheld nuclear bomb would be useful or safe, but let me think a bit more.

TwinBuilder:
  ^

Hand of Maybe:
  [... Another something.]

TwinBuilder:
  The antipsychotic?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Another. You didn't even particularly *examine* it.]

Bomber57:
  The liquid shadow we gathered but never looked at?

TwinBuilder:
  the liquid shadows.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You certainly never looked at *those*.]

TwinBuilder:
  Look at them.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The Stuff of Nightmares: Liquid shadow. It doesn't seem to be *dark*, per se, as much as literally being an absence of light. The more you look at them, the more oddly *alluring* they seem, and yet inspiring of cold fear.]

TwinBuilder:
  ...I suppose the """""""""""""logical""""""""""""" thing to do is inject them into Cinavi.
  So.
  That's what we'll do???
  Unless anyone has other ideas.

Ashen Prophet:
  "we should drink it"

Hand of Maybe:
  [Should you?]

Bomber57:
  Should we?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Should you?]

TwinBuilder:
  Injection time.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Before you can stop yourself, you immediately inject yourself with the stuff of nightmares.]

TwinBuilder:
  HORRIBLE IDEA.
  HORRIBLE HORRIBLE IDEA.

Bomber57:
  Twiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin.

TwinBuilder:
  WHY AM I AN IDIOT
  ctrl+z

Hand of Maybe:
  [Everything feels fine for a second. Then, the armrest-mounted holographic control panel of the Onyx Throne lights up with amethyst light, projecting several screens up at once, each of which burns with warnings in a language you cannot understand.]

TwinBuilder:
  >armrest
>amethyst
  Don't you fucking tell me that was a coincidence.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Colon close parenthesis.]

TwinBuilder:
  Okay, uh, do any of hte screens have images on them besides text?? And if so, can you recognize what the images mean.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Well, the one screen that has an image on them appears to be some sort of diagram, editing itself in realtime. It appears to depict a massive black arrow heading towards the image of some sort of city, or fortress.]

TwinBuilder:
  Oh, *fuck.*

Bomber57:
  Oh. I suggest we move nice and far away from the rubble while we do this, perhaps. Just a crazy hunch.

TwinBuilder:
  Good idea.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You duck behind the pillar farthest from the rubble.]
  [Suddenly, random bricks in the walls just sort of *fall away* into the outside, a total blackness devoid of features just beyond it.]

TwinBuilder:
  Is this *spreading*, by any chance.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Shadowy figures dance in the corners of your vision. And, no.]
  [You get the terrifying feeling that something, or a large number of things, is/are watching you.]
  [And then, you hear something. A clank. That of metal on stone.]

TwinBuilder:
  ...Look at the throne?

Hand of Maybe:
  [There's nobody there.]

TwinBuilder:
  EXCUSE ME.

Hand of Maybe:
  [*Rather* odd, considering whatever that thing was was connected to a variety of life-support systems by cables, tubes, and wires.]

Bomber57:
  Are the cables just sort of... hanging there now?

Hand of Maybe:
  [No. They aren't there.]
  [The aforementioned clanking radiates throughout the chamber, joined by many other clanking and scraping noises.]

TwinBuilder:
  Look around for a source??

Hand of Maybe:
  [You look around. Then, from behind your pillar, you finally see it. The corpses. Both armored and robed. They're rising to their feet.]
  [One of them sees you, and lets out an *unearthly* screech that hurts your ears to even *think* about.]

Bomber57:
  Oh no.

TwinBuilder:
  Run. RUN.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Where to?]

TwinBuilder:
  AWAY??

Bomber57:
  Where? The horribly all-consuming void outside?

TwinBuilder:
  wait.
  equip the armor. it might be too big but it might providep rotection
  wait bad idea
  we probably won't be able to move well with it on
  throw one of the gauntlets into the void and see what happens

Hand of Maybe:
  [The second the gauntlet reaches the barrier of the outside edge of where a brick *should* be, it just *vanishes.* Poof. Gone.]

TwinBuilder:
  try injecting yourself with the antipsychotic?? I feel like that might not do anything though.
  alternatively try convincing the corpses to jump into the void if they start attacking
  by running to the void then faking them out at the last second and moving to the side, so that they fall in

Hand of Maybe:
  [None of these gaps into the void are particularly *big*. Just a brick or two, at most.]

TwinBuilder:
  ah.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The empty suit with the horrendous smell and the rusting greatsword lumbers towards you.]

Bomber57:
  with my rudimentary knowledge i say we use the logogram to convince the rust to uh, rust faster. so fast that the suit just rusts away. this is a crack idea and so i'm just putting it out there

TwinBuilder:
  try it, I suppose

Hand of Maybe:
  [Do you believe it will happen?]

TwinBuilder:
  probably not

Bomber57:
  Belief is a powerful thing.

TwinBuilder:
  I mean

Hand of Maybe:
  [It doesn't happen, then.]

TwinBuilder:
  FUCK

Bomber57:
  twiiiiin

Trick Of The Mind's Eye:
  ~~Dangit twin you're ruining everything~~

Bomber57:
  Try again, but with much more confidence this time.

TwinBuilder:
  okay
  ^^^^
  this time I'm confident that it'll work

Hand of Maybe:
  [Do you know it will?]

TwinBuilder:
  Yes.

Bomber57:
  Yes.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Very good.]
  [You deal 5,000 damage to Αναθεμα’ς Λεγιον.]

TwinBuilder:
  Anathema's Legion.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Considering the empty suit was the nearest thing to you, its crumbling away gets rid of the nearest threat. Now, however, you've gotten the attention of the others.]
  [Now what?]

TwinBuilder:
  use the logogram, knowing that the corpses are just that. corpses. they're dead. they can't move.

Hand of Maybe:
  [*Are* they?]

TwinBuilder:
  Yes.

Hand of Maybe:
  [11,000 damage. A couple of them drop to the floor on the spot.]
  [From behind you, a creeping robed one stabs you in the back. You feel a wet squelch as the blade enters and exits your body. 9,000 damage to you. Your move.]

TwinBuilder:
  use the logogram, knowing that the piles of rubble blocking the exit are actually sentient, and comprise a mighty, fearsome golem that is allied specifically to us, cinavi kanera, and is dead-set on crushing Anathema's Legion.
  tell the golem to crush the corpse that just stabbed us into dust, and then do the same to the other attackers.

Bomber57:
  I approve of the golem plan.

Hand of Maybe:
  [That's actually just rubble.]

Bomber57:
  curses

TwinBuilder:
  *Is* it?

Hand of Maybe:
  [It's rubble.]

TwinBuilder:
  Are you *sure.*

Hand of Maybe:
  [Rubble.]

TwinBuilder:
  Rubble is the golem's name.
  You're calling him by his name.
  He exists.

Hand of Maybe:
  ((OH MY GOD.))

Bomber57:
  I don't think we're getting anywhere with this haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Hand of Maybe:
  [24,000 damage to the Legion.]

TwinBuilder:
  ***YES***

Bomber57:
  God fucking dammit Twin I'm almost upset that worked but I can't stop smiling.

TwinBuilder:
  SAME
  i can't tell if the 'oh my god' was out of frustration or laughter

Hand of Maybe:
  [The Legion is too stunned to attack you.]
  ((Latter.))

TwinBuilder:
  okay good
  use this opportunity to command the golem to annihilate the legion even further.
  then, use the logogram, knowing that the army's weapons are old, ruined, and busted, and that corpses are really too weak to be carrying such heavy materials anyway. all their weapons fall to the ground, unusable by them.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Rubble breaks some heads. 14,000 damage. Several corpses drop the weapons, and three of them chop off their own feet. 7,000 damage.]
  [Then, Anathema's Legion unleashes its special attack, **Damnatio Memoriae**.]
  [You are impaled by multiple spikes of pure concentrated hatred. 17,000 damage.]

TwinBuilder:
  how much health do we have left?

Hand of Maybe:
  Cinavi Kanera: [P] HP: 34,000/60,000.
Αναθεμα’ς Λεγιον: [∂] HP: 79,000/140,000. Damnatio Memoriae: III.

TwinBuilder:
  can we observe the threat at all?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You did. That's what you were doing when you were picking up armor suits and looting things, remember?]

TwinBuilder:
  ...Fair enough.
  use the logogram of lives, knowing that the object you used to summon these things is literally called the stuff of nightmares. since these corpses were born from nightmares, they are plagued by nightmares for eternity. they are *made* of nightmares. including their *own* nightmares. force the corpses' worst fears and nightmares to bubble up inside of them, consuming their minds so that they go insane, committing suicide.

JOE:
  use the logogram thing to realise that wait a second, theres a barrier glyph on the floor right there, remember that barrier glyphs respond to will, and will the barrier glyph into activation. recall that barrier glyphs are especially effective against beings with names writen in a strange font. realise that that means the barrier glyph is going to be really useful against the Αναθεμα’ς Λεγιον, and use this barrier as a shield to block a bunch of attacks by them

Hand of Maybe:
  [Corpses can't have nightmares, and you're *certain* that isn't how barrier glyphs work. If they even exist at all.]

JOE:
  no trust me
  I'm an expert

Hand of Maybe:
  [But what if you aren't?]

JOE:
  on that type of barrier glyph
  no really i am
  I created them 2 months ago

Hand of Maybe:
  [Oh, man, nice. As it turns out, the barriers were there the *entire* time, and that one dude didn't actually stab you.]

TwinBuilder:
  >Corpses can't have nightmares
  https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/savior-of-the-dreaming-dead

Hand of Maybe:
  [You regain 9,000 HP.]
  [Haha, silly man. Homestuck is a *webcomic*. It isn't *real life*.]

JOE:
  yay, it worked!
notice the sword one of the corpses tried to stab you with, pick it up, and realise that its really sharp. good thing it didn't get you. then use the sword to stab through the barrier (which lets you through, since you summoned it) at the Αναθεμα’ς Λεγιον, and cut at them, making wounds.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You deal 5,000 damage.]

TwinBuilder:
  I'm contemplating a final attack

Bomber57:
  Take my energy.

TwinBuilder:
  in which we use the logogram to realize that the nuclear handheld wasn't actually defused properly, and it's actually set to go off very shortly. tell rubble to dogpile the remaining corpses so they're all in one place, and then use the nuke to destroy them all, while leaving through the exit which is now unblocked.
  how does that sound?

Bomber57:
  Do we even know if the exit leads somewhere else? Wait, Rubble used the block the exit. Okay I approve of this.

JOE:
  wouldn't the nuke hurt us?

Bomber57:
  Give Rubble a thumbs up in appreciation as we leave.

TwinBuilder:
  of course not. we'd be out of its range.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The doors of the throne room suddenly fall of their hinges. There is nothing but pure void outside.]

JOE:
  "we might need the type of glyph I made **3** months ago, that only works on nukes"
  "\:P"

TwinBuilder:
  Where does the exit lead?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Read above.]

TwinBuilder:
  The one unblocked by rubble, that is.
  Oh, so that's... yeah, okay.
  No way out.
  Then forget that plan.
  Well, actually...
  We could use the Logogram, knowing that Rubble must be nigh-indestructible to persist in this castle for so long and to block such tall doors, so he would no doubt be able to survive the nuke blast. He could get as far from it as possible and shield us, leaving the corpses as targets for when it goes off.

JOE:
  "or you could use the other barrier glyph that i made 3 months ago and only works on nukes"
"that would work right"

TwinBuilder:
  Of course.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Your move?]

TwinBuilder:
  Try JOE's plan.
  Make sure the barrier glyph protects us and Rubble.

Bomber57:
  I agree to JOE's plan.

Hand of Maybe:
  [But, *dear players*. I *explicitly* said *numerous* times that the handheld nuclear bomb was *defused*, not active. Is my word not law?]

JOE:
  "how about we use the logogramthing and realise that it has a selfrepair module that activates when you give it a hard whack"
  "and make this realisation as we trip and fall, giving it a hard whack"

TwinBuilder:
  No, it isn't.
  It's active.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Prove it.]

TwinBuilder:
  Look, you can see it blinking and hissing right now.

Hand of Maybe:
  [No I can't. You're tripping on thybital.]

Bomber57:
  I can hear that hissing sound invading my sound gatherers.

TwinBuilder:
  The thybital left our system already.
  Remember?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Not *entirely*.]

TwinBuilder:
  And since when was it a hallucinogenic?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Since when did you know all of its effects?]

Bomber57:
  But you see, maybe Cinavi can't hear the hissing or see the blinking, but you can, for you aren't the you who is tripping on thybital!

Hand of Maybe:
  [Oh... oh shit. You're... you're right. I just had a dose. Hopy fuck. I didn't even *really* think this shit *was* a hallucinogen.]

Bomber57:
  This stunning realization makes you doubt if your prior description of the nuclear device was accurate at all. Perhaps... it was active all along?
  That is a rhetorical question. Of course it was.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Surely not. I checked my notes at least three times before calling in defused.]
  [Then again, I *was* apparently tripping.]
  [...]
  [The nuclear device suddenly goes off. Serendipitously, *someone* has apparently placed nuclear protection glyphs sufficient to protect both you *and*, for the most part, Rubble, and you both sustain little to no damage.]
  [Anathema's Legion is blown to smithereens. *94,000* damage.]

Bomber57:
  Beautiful.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You blink twice at your victory.]
  [Then, you black out.]
  [*Now* what?]

Bomber57:
  Well, have we awoken yet? I suppose so. Any changes to the room considering a nuclear device just went off in it?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You wake up. You're lying in the middle of a pile of rubble. Everything but this pile and the Onyx Throne appears to have been seared pitch-black in the room. There are *no* traces of any other physical structures or beings.]
  [You feel like you just got shanked seventeen hundred times through the chest, except it's through the tattoo on your wrist.]

Bomber57:
  Don't think we're gonna get any use out of that for a while. Better let it rest.

Hand of Maybe:
  [A panel in the back of the Throne drips with gray energy. You run a shaky hand through your dark hair, rising to your feet once more.]

Bomber57:
  Go to the panel to inspect it more closely.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You don't remember seeing this earlier. It appears as if the thing has *popped out* of the Throne a little.]

Bomber57:
  Try to pull it all the way out?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You remove the panel. There appears to be a hidden compartment in the Throne! How mysterious.]

Bomber57:
  Score! What's inside?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Just one thing, levitating in midair, existing but also *not*. You're not sure what to make of it.]
  [∂.]

Bomber57:
  Reach out and try to touch it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You attempt to touch it. Your hand seems to pass through the thing momentarily, a chill running down your spine. Then, with a crackle of energy which runs up and down your body, it soars *into* you, and vanishes.]
  [You get the sudden urge to vomit.]

Bomber57:
  Do your best to keep your lunch.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Unfortunately, you fail. You vomit what appears to be some sort of black slime out, the stuff rapidly decomposing into gas upon contact with the air. If you had to guess, that might have been what was left of the stuff of nightmares you took.]

Bomber57:
  Well, at least that's done with. Logogram feel any less painful?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Mildly.]

Bomber57:
  Out of curiosity, has the ∂ appeared anywhere on your body?

Hand of Maybe:
  [It has not. But, if you concentrate hard enough, you can see the image of a stone ring of five blank segments and one ∂ in your mind's eye.]

Bomber57:
  Surprised the Logogram isn't represented there. Then again, it is something entirely in a category of its own, and for good reason. Is the exit still a thing?

Hand of Maybe:
  [If by exit, you mean now-doorless aperture into an infinite black void, then sure.]

Bomber57:
  Well... where else do we really have to go? Enter the void.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You attempt to enter the void, as Guru Laghima once commanded. You promptly fall through the floor the second you take a step *out* of the room.]

JOE:
  to save your life, use the logogram to realise theres a floating bed platform beneath you
  clearly its there, its not like you can die so easily

Hand of Maybe:
  [Before you know it, before you can *think* anything, you can feel a hard impact jolt your body as you strike solid ground.]
  [A hole overhead drips darkness upon you. You appear to have fallen through a layer of the nightmare.]

JOE:
  wait, so this is a nightmare?

Hand of Maybe:
  **END OF PART 1: FALLEN KINGDOM.**