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Research Sector Quote[]
For who among us has touched the foundations of this world and deemed them solid?
Altered Speech of AI14[]
- See also Plastic Tree Supplement
The results are incredible, but more so the speed of discovery this allows us. Al14 copies our speech, but after numerous tests we've discovered that certain words are missing from its vocabulary. We began isolating these words, cross-referencing them with esoteric texts from the early days of the Bureau. We found that these words, when arranged in particular formations and spoken at varying speeds and cadences, elicit a reaction from altered materials.
We tested this specific string of words, a “Formula” if you will, on the other Altered Items kept in the Examination Hall. Varying physical responses were recorded with each one, with an 82% success rate. We've proven that words can tangibly affect these items. Specific applications must be explored, possibly for containment or identification purposes. This will drastically change our approach moving forward.
And to think, there are still more words to be found!
Log 1: Discovery[]
- See also Log 1: Discovery
My life's... been a strange one. Certainly stranger than I'd like. But this place... it's something else. The floors crawl, the walls slither. It's a shifting pit. On the street, it's just another drab building, standing there for anyone to see. But no one does. ...How did we miss it?
Northmoor... Acting Director Northmoor now, is on a train from Washington. He'll expect answers, which is why I'm making these tapes. They're evidence that I'm at least trying to understand.
Father searched his entire life for something like this, and we find it one week after he's buried. He always hated irony. Of course, Father, the great Director Ash, would've been the first man in. And look at me, his bookworm son, the supposed Head of Research, who can't stop his legs from shaking long enough to step over the threshold.
Log 2: Foundation[]
- See also Log 2: Foundation
It's been five days since we first entered the building. Traversing the interior is dangerous due to the shifting, but we did manage to find a lower cavern that seems structurally predictable- which is a scientific way of saying its walls won't crush us in our sleep.
Northmoor even made a discovery. A pistol, placed on a stone pedestal in front of that strange ebony pillar. Seems like something out of a storybook, except the heroes usually find swords, not handguns. But it is the perfect lure for someone like him.
Hours after finding this weapon, Northmoor cornered me to spout some nonsense about how the "Board" made him the Director. He ranted about the title being meaningless before now, calling Father and all the other previous directors shams, frauds, and worse. I think this place is worse for Northmoor than it is for me.
The strangest thing? There was no pedestal in front of that pillar a day ago. This building has swallowed a dozen of my men, and now it's handing out presents? Is it playing some sort of game? If it is, we're most certainly losing. Hell, we don't even know the rules.
Log 3: Work[]
- See also Log 3: Work
Twenty-eight days now spent inside what we're calling the "Oldest House."
Northmoor insists on the name. I'm too tired to ask why. I'm not sleeping well.
Per orders, me and my research team have established a permanent examination lab in the Foundation. I basically live down here now, like the obedient Head of Research Father raised me to be.
I spend my days investigating that odd pillar where Northmoor found the hand gun. The work was half-hearted at first, I admit, but then I discovered numerous non-Aristotelian energy channels converging at its base. Leylines, dragon roads, Heilige Linien, call them what you want, but this pillar is the crossroads.
I started building something, equal parts tailsman and technology. An array that can impose order on the ley junctions. That's the idea at least. We'll see when I'm done.
I prefer to work away from the pillar. I'm not the only one who feels like that thing has eyes.
Log 4: The Id[]
- See also Log 4: The Id
Forty-one days since Entry Day, the name of our "historic arrival" to the Oldest House. Morale is long dead and its corpse is starting to smell.
My research staff complain of a presence watching them. Many have suffered nervous fits. Some were evacuated.
In cheerier news, I've made some new friends. I met them while exploring the deeper caves. They're hard to describe, but image avant-garde sculptures of humans. I call them the Id.
They aren't hostile. In fact, they're polite and quiet, which is more than I can say for my colleagues. Most Id are shy, but a few are quite curious. While I sat taking notes, one came to look at my sketches. I offered it my pencil, but that spooked it.
What are the Id? Residents? Prisoners? They remind me of the golems from Kabbalistic texts, or a type of homunculi. I know I shouldn't, but I gave them names. There's Hercules, Adam, Lilith, and Copernicus. Mabel is the bravest. They're a funny bunch.
Log 5: Pyramids[]
- See also Log 5: Pyramids
Entry day plus 51. Northmoor has ordered an all-hands search for objects similar to the Service Weapon. He claims there are more in the House, though I don't see how he's so certain.
He's been strange lately, talking about joining "greater causes", and frequently mentioning a pyramid. After pressing him he finally described this pyramid to me. Inverted, black, mathematically perfect. Oddly enough, Adam and the other Id have shown me numerous inverted triangles painted on the cave walls. Surely there is a connection, but I don't see it yet.
As far as occult symbols go, triangles are by no means rare. Fludd, Levi, Krohl, they used that shape like it was going out of fashion. Standing on their base, triangles signify stability and strength. Inverted, on their points, they represent conflict and stagnation. Of course, the orientation is just a matter of perspective. Looking at the pyramid from below gives you one, from above, another.
Northmoor says that he looks up at the inverted pyramid. I have to wonder: is anyone standing over it, looking down?
Log 6: Departure[]
- See also Log 6: Departure
Entry day plus 86. There's been a change. Hercules and Mabel- I mean Id numbers 3 and 11- attacked my staff today. Two fatalities. Three if you count Mabel. She was always so kind.
As a result, we are abandoning the Foundation. Northmoor gave the order to transfer our resources on the upper floors, now that my Control Points allow us to safely come and go from the New York streets. Did I forget to include that fact in my previous logs? I've been so busy.
Using the arrays I made, Control Points have been established throughout the Oldest House. Excuse me if I don't sound excited, it's just...
A few months ago, I would have been overjoyed to leave the Foundation, but now I realize I've grown fond of it. There's something deep in the stone here, deeper than that watching presence. Something warm. I can feel it... needing me.
I won't go. I'll refuse. Northmoor won't be happy, but so be it. I'm starting to see him for what he was. An impotent storm. Father's shade in a cheap suit.
Log 7: Changes[]
- See also Log 7: Changes
Entry day plus 118. I have changed, although It's hard to know how or why. I no longer need tools to detect the House's veins, to hear it breathe. I can feel its blood churning beneath my bare feet.
I have added my own illustrations to the walls, trying to solve some mystery that the Oldest House whispers to me.
I have to avoid the Id as I do so. They hunt me. I don't blame them. They're just following the pillar's orders. Even poor Adam doesn't seem to recognize me anymore.
I've spent a long time contemplating the etchings of the tree and its roots. Did you know this city used to be a forest? I wonder if our Oldest House wore a different face back then, or if it was always here, a 21st-century office building since time immemorial? Can a place know the future? Can it change its skin? Can it wander?
I always thought the esoteric world was my father's, not mine. But here, in this sacred place, I finally understand his devotion. And his awe.
Log 8: Purpose[]
- See also Log 8: Purpose
Nobody else hears the House. Their ears are too full of lies. We were shown the way inside so we could help, but all we've done is fall victim to the same parasite.
I should have seen the web earlier, the strands between Northmoor, the pillar, the gun, the Id. But what hope did we have, thrown into this conflict beyond our comprehension?
I've decided to rejoin the Bureau in the upper levels, to end my long absence spent in the Foundation. Northmoor will be angry at me for disobeying him, that's just his way. But I don't care. I need to remain in the Oldest House, to help however I can. I doubt I can steer the Bureau back on the right course, but I have to try.
How did I go so long with a purpose? Without devotion? I can hardly remember how it felt. I realize how grateful I am to Father for setting me on this path. I wish I could tell him that.