The Holder Of The End:
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house in you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself “The Holder of the End”. Should a look of child-like fear come over the workers face, you will then be taken to a cell in the building. It will be in a deep hidden section of the building. All you will hear is the sound of someone talking to themselves echo the halls. It is in a language that you will not understand, but your very soul will feel unspeakable fear.
Should the talking stop at any time, STOP and QUICKLY say aloud “I’m just passing through, I wish to talk.” If you still hear silence, flee. Leave, do not stop for anything, do not go home, don’t stay at an inn, just keep moving, sleep where your body drops. You will know in the morning if you’ve escaped succesfully.
If the voice in the hall comes back after you utter those words continue on. Upon reaching the cell all you will see is a windowless room with a person in the corner, speaking an unknown language, and cradling something. The person will only respond to one question. “What happens when they all come together?”
The person will then stare into your eyes and answer your question in horrifying detail. Many go mad in that very cell, some disappear soon after the meeting, a few end their lives. But most do the worst thing, and look upon the object in the person’s hands. You will want to as well. Be warned that if you do, your death will be one of cruelty and unrelenting horror.
Your death will be in that room, by that person’s hands.
That object is 1 of 538. They must never come together.
Should the talking stop at any time, STOP and QUICKLY say aloud “I’m just passing through, I wish to talk.” If you still hear silence, flee. Leave, do not stop for anything, do not go home, don’t stay at an inn, just keep moving, sleep where your body drops. You will know in the morning if you’ve escaped succesfully.
If the voice in the hall comes back after you utter those words continue on. Upon reaching the cell all you will see is a windowless room with a person in the corner, speaking an unknown language, and cradling something. The person will only respond to one question. “What happens when they all come together?”
The person will then stare into your eyes and answer your question in horrifying detail. Many go mad in that very cell, some disappear soon after the meeting, a few end their lives. But most do the worst thing, and look upon the object in the person’s hands. You will want to as well. Be warned that if you do, your death will be one of cruelty and unrelenting horror.
Your death will be in that room, by that person’s hands.
That object is 1 of 538. They must never come together.
The Holder Of The Beginning
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask the clerk for permission to visit someone who calls herself "The Holder of the Beginning." A small smile will work its way over their mouth, almost as if to say, "You fool."
You will then be taken down a long hallway -- long enough that you would expect it to lead outside of the building. Yet, in clear violation of the laws of space and physics, it instead leads deep into the heart of the institution. The hall will be forever silent, even if you try to make noise. Screams will die before leaving your mouth, and footsteps will be muffled. In lieu of speech, your guide will simply point to a door.
Beyond it lies a cozy room filled with a pleasant yet unidentifiable perfume. At the room's center, a beautiful woman holds her empty arms as if cradling something. This room will remain just as silent as the hallway that led to it, until you ask a singular question: "Why were they separated?" The woman will then explain, in excruciating detail, every horrific event in history. Every beating. Every war. Every rape. Every killing. No travesty in the history of the universe will escape your ears. When she finishes, all will fall silent, and you will be free to leave. It is up to you to do what you will with this information.
That woman is Object 2 of 538. It is up to you if they should be joined or not.
You will then be taken down a long hallway -- long enough that you would expect it to lead outside of the building. Yet, in clear violation of the laws of space and physics, it instead leads deep into the heart of the institution. The hall will be forever silent, even if you try to make noise. Screams will die before leaving your mouth, and footsteps will be muffled. In lieu of speech, your guide will simply point to a door.
Beyond it lies a cozy room filled with a pleasant yet unidentifiable perfume. At the room's center, a beautiful woman holds her empty arms as if cradling something. This room will remain just as silent as the hallway that led to it, until you ask a singular question: "Why were they separated?" The woman will then explain, in excruciating detail, every horrific event in history. Every beating. Every war. Every rape. Every killing. No travesty in the history of the universe will escape your ears. When she finishes, all will fall silent, and you will be free to leave. It is up to you to do what you will with this information.
That woman is Object 2 of 538. It is up to you if they should be joined or not.
The Holder Of Eternity
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Eternity". A sigh might escape the worker as they look upon you with the utmost pity. They will take you down a flight of stairs that you might expect to lead to the basement; they don't.
As you press deeper and deeper into the underbelly of the institution, you will begin to hear a chorus of screams. At first it will be barely audible, as if originating from a point a great distance away, but as you approach the end of the hallway, the screams will grow clearer and more thunderous, until they drone so loudly as to consume all other noises. The din will quickly become so painful that you will feel the unrelenting urge to claw at your own ears to escape it; resist this impulse. The worker, stoically enduring the cacophony, will show you a door. As swiftly as they can, they will unlock it and run, leaving you alone in this cramped, dark hallway.
This will be your last chance to run. If you decide to continue, open the door; the piercing wail will then end abruptly, leaving your ears ringing. The room you will enter will be coated in an almost tangible darkness that consumes all but the far wall. Manacled to that wall is an emaciated figure covered in raw lashes. He will stare directly at you with a maniacal grin plastered to his face, seemingly undisturbed by his festering wounds and the scalpel rammed into his chest. The only way to save yourself from this man's dark designs is to ask, "Who created them?"
He will cackle in a manner befitting the death throes of an animal, before responding. His will be the most horrific tale you have ever heard, beyond such primitive concepts as pain and death. It will delve deep into the very essence of evil; those of weak mind would go mad hearing it.
When he finishes, it will be up to you to release this man from his terrible burden. Remove the scalpel and he will shudder once in agony before falling silent... forever.
That scalpel is Object 3 of 538. It is up to you if the rest should be protected or destroyed.
As you press deeper and deeper into the underbelly of the institution, you will begin to hear a chorus of screams. At first it will be barely audible, as if originating from a point a great distance away, but as you approach the end of the hallway, the screams will grow clearer and more thunderous, until they drone so loudly as to consume all other noises. The din will quickly become so painful that you will feel the unrelenting urge to claw at your own ears to escape it; resist this impulse. The worker, stoically enduring the cacophony, will show you a door. As swiftly as they can, they will unlock it and run, leaving you alone in this cramped, dark hallway.
This will be your last chance to run. If you decide to continue, open the door; the piercing wail will then end abruptly, leaving your ears ringing. The room you will enter will be coated in an almost tangible darkness that consumes all but the far wall. Manacled to that wall is an emaciated figure covered in raw lashes. He will stare directly at you with a maniacal grin plastered to his face, seemingly undisturbed by his festering wounds and the scalpel rammed into his chest. The only way to save yourself from this man's dark designs is to ask, "Who created them?"
He will cackle in a manner befitting the death throes of an animal, before responding. His will be the most horrific tale you have ever heard, beyond such primitive concepts as pain and death. It will delve deep into the very essence of evil; those of weak mind would go mad hearing it.
When he finishes, it will be up to you to release this man from his terrible burden. Remove the scalpel and he will shudder once in agony before falling silent... forever.
That scalpel is Object 3 of 538. It is up to you if the rest should be protected or destroyed.
The Holder Of Nothing
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls herself "The Holder of Nothing." Should a look of sheer, primal disgust mar the worker's expression, you will then be taken to a separate building, one that appears to be an old, wooden outhouse. Inside will be a seemingly endless corridor that far exceeds the length of that outhouse.
The corridor will be completely silent. Attempting to make any sound at the wrong time is a grievous, lamentable mistake. You will notice the lights in the corridor getting brighter and brighter as you make your way down towards the end; eventually, you will find yourself blinded by their brilliance. If, at any point the lights go out, quickly shout out, "No! Stop! What you are doing is wrong!" while backing away. If the lights do not come back on, bolt for the door you came in through. It should still be open; hopefully you aren't far enough down the hallway for it to close on you. If it does close, an eternity in Hell would be preferable to what you will suffer.
If the lights come back on, continue walking down the corridor. At the end of the hall lies a cell; the worker will open its door for you while glaring at you in disgust. Inside the cell will be a mad pastiche of colors, arranged in several harlequin-like formations. You must not be distracted by them, for at the center of the room is a naked young woman, slathered in blood and bound by strips of human sinew, and you would be better off not knowing what will happen if you take your eyes off of her face for even a moment. Focus on her, and ask: "What were they when they were one?"
She will look you in the eye and speak the answer in incredible detail. It will be unlike anything you have ever heard, leaving you on the verge of both ecstasy and agony. It is not uncommon for a Seeker to lose themselves in the euphoria. But you mustn't let your focus break, and you must take special care not to look upon her tattooed chest. Your mind will tempt you to gaze upon it, but you must resist, for if you fail, she will flay you alive and add your mutilated flesh to her bindings, and you will remain trapped with her, fully conscious, for the rest of time.
That tattoo is Object 4 of 538. They desire to be one again, but they mustn't.
The corridor will be completely silent. Attempting to make any sound at the wrong time is a grievous, lamentable mistake. You will notice the lights in the corridor getting brighter and brighter as you make your way down towards the end; eventually, you will find yourself blinded by their brilliance. If, at any point the lights go out, quickly shout out, "No! Stop! What you are doing is wrong!" while backing away. If the lights do not come back on, bolt for the door you came in through. It should still be open; hopefully you aren't far enough down the hallway for it to close on you. If it does close, an eternity in Hell would be preferable to what you will suffer.
If the lights come back on, continue walking down the corridor. At the end of the hall lies a cell; the worker will open its door for you while glaring at you in disgust. Inside the cell will be a mad pastiche of colors, arranged in several harlequin-like formations. You must not be distracted by them, for at the center of the room is a naked young woman, slathered in blood and bound by strips of human sinew, and you would be better off not knowing what will happen if you take your eyes off of her face for even a moment. Focus on her, and ask: "What were they when they were one?"
She will look you in the eye and speak the answer in incredible detail. It will be unlike anything you have ever heard, leaving you on the verge of both ecstasy and agony. It is not uncommon for a Seeker to lose themselves in the euphoria. But you mustn't let your focus break, and you must take special care not to look upon her tattooed chest. Your mind will tempt you to gaze upon it, but you must resist, for if you fail, she will flay you alive and add your mutilated flesh to her bindings, and you will remain trapped with her, fully conscious, for the rest of time.
That tattoo is Object 4 of 538. They desire to be one again, but they mustn't.
The Holder Of Light
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, close your eyes and ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Light.” You will be led to a single door leading to a long, winding hallway, and then told to open your eyes. Open the door. The hallway beyond it will be pitch black, but narrow enough for you to feel the walls with outstretched arms, and guide yourself forward.
If, at any point during your trek down the hall, it is suddenly bathed in light, shut your eyes immediately and quickly make your way back to the door you came in through. If your eyes stay open for more than a second, what you see will force you to instinctively tear them out.
If, on the other hand, the lights stay off long enough for you to navigate the entire corridor, you will reach another door. Look down: if you can see any light escaping from the crack beneath the door, flee immediately, for what you seek is not there. If no light escapes the next room, then carefully turn the doorknob and enter.
The room beyond will be completely dark, aside from a single, dimly-lit candle at its center. The faint light it emits will reveal the outline of a cloaked, motionless figure huddled over it. There is only one question that he will respond to: “What can protect us from Them?” Say anything else, and the man will tear out your eyes, and force you to take his place under the cloak for the rest of eternity.
If you ask the proper question, a piercing scream will ring out from the candle, and a series of lights will illuminate the room, revealing images of the most horrifying thoughts, fantasies and memories experienced by sentient minds throughout history. Most people cannot handle this event, turning violently insane or perishing instantly at the sight of such horrors. If you should somehow manage to survive the ordeal, the cloaked man will rise slowly and put his hands to your head, turning your gaze to meet his youthful face.
Stare directly into his empty, gaping eye sockets, for if you look away from that terrible sight, you will be stranded in this room, forever forgotten by time itself. Do not turn to look as he opens your right hand, and places a small, round object upon your palm. As that object touches your hand, you will find yourself able to ignore even the most fearsome agonies -- unless you are in the process of obtaining another Object, for the pains you feel then are far beyond any worldly suffering. Know that even this newfound power will never help you cope with the the horrifying images you have witnessed in that room. They will be burned into your memory for all eternity.
The eye you hold in your hand is Object 5 of 538. The awakening has begun; they must not be brought together.
If, at any point during your trek down the hall, it is suddenly bathed in light, shut your eyes immediately and quickly make your way back to the door you came in through. If your eyes stay open for more than a second, what you see will force you to instinctively tear them out.
If, on the other hand, the lights stay off long enough for you to navigate the entire corridor, you will reach another door. Look down: if you can see any light escaping from the crack beneath the door, flee immediately, for what you seek is not there. If no light escapes the next room, then carefully turn the doorknob and enter.
The room beyond will be completely dark, aside from a single, dimly-lit candle at its center. The faint light it emits will reveal the outline of a cloaked, motionless figure huddled over it. There is only one question that he will respond to: “What can protect us from Them?” Say anything else, and the man will tear out your eyes, and force you to take his place under the cloak for the rest of eternity.
If you ask the proper question, a piercing scream will ring out from the candle, and a series of lights will illuminate the room, revealing images of the most horrifying thoughts, fantasies and memories experienced by sentient minds throughout history. Most people cannot handle this event, turning violently insane or perishing instantly at the sight of such horrors. If you should somehow manage to survive the ordeal, the cloaked man will rise slowly and put his hands to your head, turning your gaze to meet his youthful face.
Stare directly into his empty, gaping eye sockets, for if you look away from that terrible sight, you will be stranded in this room, forever forgotten by time itself. Do not turn to look as he opens your right hand, and places a small, round object upon your palm. As that object touches your hand, you will find yourself able to ignore even the most fearsome agonies -- unless you are in the process of obtaining another Object, for the pains you feel then are far beyond any worldly suffering. Know that even this newfound power will never help you cope with the the horrifying images you have witnessed in that room. They will be burned into your memory for all eternity.
The eye you hold in your hand is Object 5 of 538. The awakening has begun; they must not be brought together.
The Holder Of Song
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls herself "The Holder of Song.” You will then be guided to a long staircase that spirals higher than the building stands. At the stairs' summit is a door.
As you open the door, a sudden wave of heat will pour out from the hallway beyond it, and wash over you. Proceed down the hallway. As you walk, the air around you will grow increasingly frigid. When you feel as if you are encased in ice, you must stand perfectly still, remain silent, and listen. If, after a few seconds pass, you hear a baby crying, turn and run. No harm will befall you, but the infant's cry will follow you wherever you go. If you hear it for the rest of your life, count yourself lucky; if and when it stops, your firstborn child will die.
If you do not hear a baby's cry, wait for the hallway to grow warm once more, and then proceed to the door at its end. Enter.
The room beyond will be awash in green light. At its center will be an old woman turning the handle of a silent music box. Her legs have both been severed at the knees. When you speak to her, you must look her in the eyes. She hides a spear fashioned from the bones of her legs; break eye contact, and she will impale you with it and leave you to bleed to death in seemingly unending agony. She will respond to only one question: "What was the song they used to play?"
The old woman will begin to sing in a language not of this world. Her melody will be the most beautiful one you have ever heard, bringing peace and serenity to your mind, body, and soul. You will find yourself vividly imagining a band of carefree children playing and singing, innocent as can be... And within minutes, the scene will eventually take a horribly sinister turn. The children will begin to fight each other, and their conflict will quickly escalate to the most brutal, lethal violence you can conceive of. They will impale each other on wooden poles, disembowel each other with sharp rocks, and even rip flesh from bone with their bare hands. You will witness these children, now merely tattered doppelgangers of themselves, spreading death and destruction more horrific than you could ever imagine on your own. You will see a naked boy, drenched in blood, singing with delight as he runs through a hellish wasteland, pursued by unspeakable monsters. They will overtake him and utterly destroy him, the song still issuing forth from his shredded lips all the while.
...Yet, inexplicably, you will remain calm and peaceful even as you watch this unspeakable brutality.
When these horrific visions end, an intense pain will stab at your chest. Your heart will feel like it is about to explode. Do not let the agony break your focus, and do not break eye contact with the old woman, lest you invite a fate so horrible that an exploding heart seems lovely by comparison. If you remain steadfast in your gaze, the pain will eventually cease. The woman will stand up (though, with your eyes still focused on hers, you will know not how) and place the music box in your hands.
The music box is Object 6 of 538. When its song plays again, they will all come together.
As you open the door, a sudden wave of heat will pour out from the hallway beyond it, and wash over you. Proceed down the hallway. As you walk, the air around you will grow increasingly frigid. When you feel as if you are encased in ice, you must stand perfectly still, remain silent, and listen. If, after a few seconds pass, you hear a baby crying, turn and run. No harm will befall you, but the infant's cry will follow you wherever you go. If you hear it for the rest of your life, count yourself lucky; if and when it stops, your firstborn child will die.
If you do not hear a baby's cry, wait for the hallway to grow warm once more, and then proceed to the door at its end. Enter.
The room beyond will be awash in green light. At its center will be an old woman turning the handle of a silent music box. Her legs have both been severed at the knees. When you speak to her, you must look her in the eyes. She hides a spear fashioned from the bones of her legs; break eye contact, and she will impale you with it and leave you to bleed to death in seemingly unending agony. She will respond to only one question: "What was the song they used to play?"
The old woman will begin to sing in a language not of this world. Her melody will be the most beautiful one you have ever heard, bringing peace and serenity to your mind, body, and soul. You will find yourself vividly imagining a band of carefree children playing and singing, innocent as can be... And within minutes, the scene will eventually take a horribly sinister turn. The children will begin to fight each other, and their conflict will quickly escalate to the most brutal, lethal violence you can conceive of. They will impale each other on wooden poles, disembowel each other with sharp rocks, and even rip flesh from bone with their bare hands. You will witness these children, now merely tattered doppelgangers of themselves, spreading death and destruction more horrific than you could ever imagine on your own. You will see a naked boy, drenched in blood, singing with delight as he runs through a hellish wasteland, pursued by unspeakable monsters. They will overtake him and utterly destroy him, the song still issuing forth from his shredded lips all the while.
...Yet, inexplicably, you will remain calm and peaceful even as you watch this unspeakable brutality.
When these horrific visions end, an intense pain will stab at your chest. Your heart will feel like it is about to explode. Do not let the agony break your focus, and do not break eye contact with the old woman, lest you invite a fate so horrible that an exploding heart seems lovely by comparison. If you remain steadfast in your gaze, the pain will eventually cease. The woman will stand up (though, with your eyes still focused on hers, you will know not how) and place the music box in your hands.
The music box is Object 6 of 538. When its song plays again, they will all come together.