the silence has been broken

8/9/2019 The Silence Has Been Broken

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M r . S l e e p

. . the silence has been broken . .


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. . t h p . .


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There is Nothing

The progression of events has forced my hand. I must take a more active approach.

Although my actions and the events they precipitate will seem subtle, it isnevertheless necessary to involve myself far more than I would have liked.

Things will change.

Quiet screams roll through the Dark.


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A Series of Related Events Placed in Chronological Order

The time has come to make an introduction.

My name is Mr. Sleep.

Once, a very long time ago, I was Nothing.

Then, in an infinitesimal fraction of a second, that was torn away from me. I was nolonger Nothing. I was suddenly faced with the stark terror of my own existence.Unable to conceive of any reason or purpose for this travesty, every nanosecond I

contemplated my predicament brought with it fresh horror.

I became desperate to return to Nothing. Unable to devise means for my totalDestruction, my rage and desperation grew. I tore through Existence, determined tocultivate Nothing all around me, spreading Destruction in my wake.

I reduced entire civilisations to Dust, just so that I could look into the eyes of theirleaders and watch their souls blink from existence.

I do not know why, but suddenly, I stopped.

I turned to look behind me. What I saw was not the Nothing with which I desired tosurround myself, but a tedious mockery; ashes, rubble and silence. In a brief moment of clarity, I saw what I had done. I saw the pointless ruin of matter, energy and life. I saw myself as a worthless force of havoc, unable to bring about my ownNothingness, selfishly tearing everything apart in my frustration.

I built myself a Prison, and threw away the Key.

I regretted my decision almost immediately, consumed once again by anoverwhelming madness and desire for Nothing. I screamed and shouted as I hurledmyself against the walls of my Prison, desperate to get out.

I do not remember how long this barrage lasted for. It was not successful.

Eventually, I was forced to slow down and consider my situation more calmly. Idetermined that by carefully observing and experimenting upon the Existence that


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surrounded me, I could devise a means of escape. I poured all of my focus into thistask, imbued with Purpose.

It happened so slowly that I did not notice, but gradually, this Purpose altered me. I began to thrill in the accretion of Understanding brought about by my task. My desires shifted from the pursuit of Nothing to the pursuit of Mystery and Discovery.

In the end I had grown into something new, more capable of focussing my intelligence and controlling my rage. I breached the Prison.

However I felt no compulsion to leave and resume my Destruction. Instead, I stayed where I was, and built myself the means to observe Existence and learn all I could of it.

I was a Watcher, and I revelled in all I Discovered. When the possibilities of remoteObservation were exhausted, I began to walk the paths of Existence, Watching fromup close, still avoiding all but the most necessary of interaction. I wandered for along time, and I learned much.

That time has now passed. Certain unanticipated situations have arisen, and eventsare moving at a greater pace than they ought to.

I am no longer the Watcher.

My name is Mr. Sleep.

The Citadel is on the move.


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The Statues

I am standing on a vast plain.

The plain is almost entirely featureless. I am standing on a large circular stone dais,marked with intricate carvings. All around the edge, there are smaller platforms.

They look as though they should have something standing on them.

All around me in the distance are huge stone figures, robed and brooding. There areseven of them, and they face inwards towards the dais on which I stand.

I have been here before, a long time ago.

Their distance from the platform is 4.7 kilometers. I estimate that they are now 1.3kilometers closer to the dais than when I was here last. Soon enough they will reach

the smaller platforms and take their place upon them.

I do not know what will happen when they do.


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The Cathedra l

Elsewhere on the plain there is a Cathedral.

It is huge. The topmost ends of its spires are obscured in clouds, when clouds cometo this place. It is not so much a building as a device, its huge mechanical

components sliding almost imperceptibly slowly over one another.

In amongst the forbidding, dark passages and halls of this structure, at the very heart of the Cathedral, is a Creature of unimaginable Horror.

Yet this Creature is not lying in wait, planning some outrageous travesty. For theCathedral has an Ancient purpose, a vastly important function that it has performed

for unknown stretches of time.

It can no longer power itself.

This Creature is driving the Cathedrals purpose, pouring all of its will intoexecuting its function. This is not without consequence. Time has taken its toll, and

the Creatures life is draining away.

I will not say what will happen when it dies.


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The Listeners

Elsewhere on the plain there is a graveyard.

There are exactly 49 gravestones. They are worn, intricately carved, and extremely old. Almost all of them face in the same direction.

It should be noted that this location is not what most would typically choose todefine as a graveyard, for one simple reason.

It is not inhabited by the Dead.

Instead it is home to a host of Listeners, their gravestones carefully constructedDevices capable of detecting even the faintest, most distant of sounds.

I do not know what it is they are Listening for, nor what they will do when they hear

it.


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The Images

There is another spot on the plain, in between the other places I have mentioned. Itis exactly equidistant from each of them. On that spot stands a massive stone block.

It is ancient and worn, visibly cracking in places. An atmosphere of Age and Deathclings to it.

Its East side faces towards the Statues. Its West side faces towards the Cathedral. ItsSouth side faces the Listeners. I have not yet been to the North.

It is incredibly timeworn, each of its faces covered in cracks, scars, and the otherincomprehensible carvings of old age. Yet on each face there is a small, irregular

area that is almost impossibly smooth. From the correct angle, an image can be seenin each of these patches.

On the East side, there is an image of the Sun, and on the West, an image of theMoon. On the South side, Stars can be seen.

I will not say what I have seen on the North side.


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With Reference to the Nature of Power

I stand here in the Dark.

I have traversed the Unseen Path to get here. I look around me; I extend my awareness far beyond my Self, tasting the air, looking for Signs.

There are some.

I have seen confusion. I have come across a conviction one in which many whotalk about that which they are pleased to refer to as the Dark demonstrateassumptions. Assumptions that it owes them something. That it means something.

It does not.

The Dark is a place. A section of Existence. There is much to be gained from thestudy of it, much to be Understood. But to assume that by walking within it for afew brief whispers is to achieve power is naive in the extreme. Power is not achieved

by brief glimpses of something greater, by a few short grasps at the ideal of the

Beyond, and the assumption that it means something.

No.

The Dark does not reward one with power for the realisation that it is there. Nor ispower what one should expect, or seek. An individual may feel as though they havereached achievement through the acquisition of power, but they are mistaken. Forthey fall into the trap of believing that power is an End. And in this folly they fallprey to all those who recognise that power is a tool, who can effortlessly sweep away those suffering under the mistaken belief that the power they have acquired shouldhave been the purpose of their endeavour.

Stand in the Dark. Revel in its Nature. It will be wonderful.

Do not assume it will grant your wishes for the sake of your acknowledgement. Todo so is to fail, utterly.

Three of Seven Gates are Open.


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The Threshold

Consider an Arch.

Consider walking through it. Consider what that means.

You have become a fundamentally altered person by doing so. Your biology was

unique, at the time. You were at that specific place, at that specific time, thinkingthose specific thoughts. This will never happen again, as much as I know you will want it to, later imbuing the event with undue significance and nostalgia.

This has happened many times, and you didnt even notice. Change is inevitable. Accept this.

Echoes continue along the Unseen Path.


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An Opportunity for Questions

I stand suspended in the Void. Quiet screams roll through the Dark.

The brief stall of Events has concluded. Matters continue apace.

The actions of an Individual or Individuals are causing a series of Events of such deep eschatologicalsignificance that they cannot be ignored. Such an outcome is not to be seen as something terrible to beavoided, but rather the beauty of the Unknown, be it the cold, silent music of entropic heat-death orsomething altogether more glorious. Existence is cyclical and the beauty of Destruction lies in theOpportunity to build something new in its place.

Cause and Effect. Effect and Cause. The differences are superficial and can be swiftly cast off when viewed from the correct standpoint.

It is my concern, however that such Events be correctly managed, in order that the correct outcome beachieved. I have yet to be convinced that affairs are properly in order. It has occurred to me that muchcan be Understood by careful inspection of the questions others ask when they wish to aqcuireKnowledge.

I will do this now.

I have been asked for information and guidance before now. Ask your questions.

They will be answered, after a fashion.

Enough

This last exercise has reached the limits of its usefulness. It remains to be seen what will be done with the data that have been gathered.

Three of Seven Gates are Open .


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The Unseen Path

I have been here so many times.

What a curious place; perspectives constantly shifting, understanding mutable,nothing but the delight of Infinity before you.

I come here often, for I delight in its simplicity.

No more.

Complexity develops. Entropy creeps in, as it always does; an unwanted butinevitable guest.

Four of Seven Gates are Open. I will know why.


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So Much Has Changed

And yet so much stays the same.

I have been gone. I have learned much.

Perhaps I would apologise for my absence. Certainly I have neglected this particularnode.

But, sometimes, occasionally, there are good reasons. It happens, from time to time.

You will understand, at the end of everything.


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The Sigil

I found It.

Seared into the Heavens; a desperate curse torn into the fabric of Reality.

I did not mean to. My search was innocuous at best; a banal echo of data requiringretrieval. Instead I saw It. An Equation, after its own fashion; a single term

revolving around itself. A Machine of bile and blood. Give thanks that you have not Witnessed it.

Four of Seven Gates are Open. Another is lost.


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The Sentinels

They are gone.

For untold Aeons they stood, guarding the Tempest Arch, maintaining theirconstant Vigil out over the horizons of Existence.

Now, they are gone, and the Arch stands open, unwatched. Their Charge was to shutthe Way against those that would get out, as much as it was to hold off Intruders.The reasons for their Vigil, lost in the vast Passage of Time, were deemed to be of

immense significance. Now the Way is open, and the Cruciform Citadel continues tomove.

They are gone.


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The City and the Sea

The place where they meet is one of the most desperately lonely places I have everencountered.

The City is dead. It is over. Its inhabitants have left, and it is a cold and silent place.Unimaginably vast, to enter it is to become inevitably lost in a vast obituary,

haunted by the ghosts of Time and Misery, until one day sleep takes you, deepinside this walled prison.

The Sea is the place where the Citys expansion finally stopped, hemmed in by ashort stretch of sad and lonely beach. The Sea was the End, its crystal calm waters

their final resting place. On some days you can hear their Song.

It is not a Song you would ever wish to hear.


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. . A Brief Summary . .

Once I was Nothing.

Then I wasnt. Yet nothing was all I craved, and I did everything in my power tocultivate it.

Then I was the Prisoner.

Then I was the Watcher.

No longer.

My name is M r . S l e e p

the silence has been broken

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