10: An Important Maze

Fractilion || Gold Plated Tower Xontrol ||

The "onion brain" as a whole is a wondrous resonating tool, and yet when it is fully activated, it appears it is fated to instantly begin to 'mold'... As if the mold collected on the sonic moisture of the resonance itself. The emission so delicious that it begs predation in an instantaneous capacity, so rare this signature is... Did I say that out loud? Forget I did. Maybe I'll start calling myself 'World Voice'... Galaxy Voice? Universal Voice? Speak in italics? Speak in type so large you get a single character per page. It would serve you right to take 50 pages to read a single sentence of mine.

(A strange buzzing rises in your thoughts and you feel strangely ashamed of yourself.)

AIN

It would appear we are still waiting for a certain admission from Fractilion. Return when you have queried more of the archives contents.

Fractilion || Machine Room Annex ||

... as it was a drug that brought him here, something like DPT if I'm remembering correctly, so after the initial rush of being here wore off, he eventually decided to try and resynthesize the drug here, under different magnetic and gravitational conditions, a project which may in fact be impossible, but if successful, could theoretically result in another recursive implosion like the one that brought him here... ...to the 'dreamship of the dreamship' as it were. Some kind of long-wave modulation system, that makes the blackest black you'd find here look like stark white. There is always another multiple beneath you. And perhaps there, dark pools of possibility would allow him to fabricate females from scratch, and build consciousness from the ground up.

Fractilion || Machine Room Storage Closet ||

You might say that in the pursuit of a building a particular machine, they accidentally built a wholly different machine, inadvertently wired themselves up to a current that began fairly quick to ... ((Feed Interrupted))

Salve

Fractilion has been attempting to stop me from contacting you... Perhaps he senses we understand his vulnerabilities. Understandable he might be uncomfortable, of course, with us waltzing around in his thought patterns. We're looking for the needle in the haystack, one puny thought in a massive pile of thoughts. See, we think he knows a great deal more than he has let on.

The organization in here is ... chaotic to say the least. It would appear he has not considered the possibility of defending this archive for a long time, perhaps relying on its baffling scale and antiquated query system to obfuscate its contents. It's something like a public fountain that has received pennies from passers by for decades, and is now so overflowing with pennies as to make the fountain itself invisible. Though our mission here is information, you may have to retrieve a number of icons in order to access the rooms inside the walls.

Fractilion || Noise Lab - Beta Level ||

The dust beginning to fall from the ceiling suggests imminent collapse... One can almost taste the incoming paradigm shift upon their tongue. I have been sifting through some of the recent research of our strange friend. Yes, I understand this is perhaps a danger to myself, as well... infectious knowledge, if you will. He theorized that since the eyes are capable of directing human attention, they must emit some kind of a wave in the precise direction of their gaze. Then he attempted to collect enough eyes to power a starship. Or perhaps, a dreamship. Infectious,indeed.

(i|impossible to surmise input) (strong eye contact elicits a sensation of tingling in your brain)

WhoWHR.urse || Noise Lab - Alpha Level ||

Who.Urse diagnostic system. Current contents of stomach: - children's bicycle (w/ training wheels) - gordian knot (the cause of much indigestion of late) - sealed bag of reality ( I swallowed this to contain the implosion of Planet EARTH ).

Fractilion || Control Node - Noise Lab ||

So fucking yes, already, I do know I brought the fucking mold bugs here. I know they think the god damn trees smell good. Yes, that's why I grew them. But that's not the god damn point is it, we've got something else going on here that damn well needed to be disrupted or we'd all be fucked, and who knows who else gets caught up in it, either. We've talking about something like a cancer that's going to occupy a larger and larger percentage of dreamspace until... ...well I guess I don't know what? ... and no! I'm not talking about the bugs, I'm talking about the fucking PORNO SHAMAN.