And then the fire which undulated in weightlessness turned to sound, pulsating waves of it radiating and spreading with flows of deep blue wrapping around them like magical ribbons.
As the two grey haired men with incredibly expensive suits sat in the antechamber awaiting to see The Great Politician, they were getting more and more nervous. The older one was periodically wiping his sweat filled forehead with a golden embroidered handkerchief. They were THE two leaders of business and banking in their country, yet they both knew that the real power belonged to this diminutive man, the man who controlled men with guns who could destroy their empires in gunfire, and controlled the press in to every whim under state imperative. In a mixture of fear and boredom they would both repeatedly be looking at the big portrait painting that was dominating the great room. And as they did so, and as the minutes of waiting turned into hours, they started to get the feeling that the setting sun moving across it was revealing an underpainting, something much older and more frightening. Or maybe they were just going crazy.
By my third week of captivity I have realized that what I initially took to be a bunch of mindless giant insectoid beasts was far more than that, that it was a society, complete with social norms, cultures and an intricate religion. From my strangely manufactured cage I had now seen how three times a day a “chosen one” would be elected by group consensus and it would have what I can only assume was the honour of getting to carry their idol/deity through the community, to the great reverence of the others (one day I observed the individual for the whole next day and he seemed to have temporary higher privileges as a result). This moment was apparently of great sanctity, not to be disturbed, as unfortunately some of my fellow prisoners had learned. Normally nobody seemed to pay attention to us in preparation for some great ritual, BUT, anybody who spoke louder than a whisper during the procession was promptly silenced… forever. I write these things down in the journal today also, in the hope that when the great ceremony happens and if I am right I will be taken away they will ignore this little leather bound notebook and then after the next migration somebody of my own species will find it and learn something from it, that it may not be too late for them also and they may learn from our mistakes.
——— from “The lost notebook” ———
The Dimension-0 ring hides under it’s beauty and shine a very dark secret indeed. For the gems it is a adorned with are no ordinary precious stones, but pieces from the volcanic explosions on mount Krara-rathou, the place where hundreds of slaves over centuries had been brought as living offerings, not to the volcano or nature (as some westerners still think with superiority), but to dark powers living deep in under the earth’s crust. It is said that the wearer is able to see with it The Overlapping Dimension. This perspective of his surroundings makes the wearer feel “enlightened”, first through the discovery, and then through the other-beings that talk to him in hi trances. Ultimately though all the wearers (mostly great kings) ended in insanity, no longer being able to interact with their own kind.
excerpt from the book
“Forbidden Lost Artifacts” – by Lugunarius Markhee
The Forgotten Catacombs had been built in the early years of the roman empire, then, as now, serving as a prison and experimentation facility for the handful of shadow beings from Beyond that were captured by mankind. The roman emperors who experienced the great millennial planetary alignment and the resultant horrors that seeped into our dimension were painfully a serious threat to their rule. That’s when the unholy alliance with the Anatherit warriors was done. It wasn’t an easy decision as these creatures where despicable abominations that put fear into the hearts of even the most veteran soldiers, but what won’t a ruler do to maintain his power? In fact this alliance worked surprisingly well for many many centuries. Indeed it worked so well that in just a few decades most of the mortals came to never have to encounter beyonders themselves, and over the centuries popular culture forgot of their existence. However, as humanity grew and prospered forgetting this ancient pact, the Anatherit became discontent and began to neglect their ancient horrible duties, leaving more and more inhumans to roam the mortal realms.
AnNichi Rebamael – Historian of the Forgotten
For generations all the inhabitants of the small isolated mountain village of Nigaggua had known to avoid the great cavern upriver from them. Maybe it was common sense. Maybe it was tragic experiences long forgotten even by collective memory. Either way, they knew enough not to try to explore it, and to ignore the occasional otherworldly screams that occasionally came from there. Not so the group of 10 tourists that came that weekend. They were never heard of them again…
To be honest it surprised her that nobody commented on the huge and very peculiar stone sticking out of the river as they passed by it. Any other day she would have made a big deal out of this, but given the shocked state in which the whole team still was after the earlier life threatening events, she tried to shrug it off and just forget about it. But for some reason however she discovered she just couldn’t and she kept wondering about the face she (thought she?) saw stuck/emerging/transformed/captive in the stone. What strange epithets to use. It was just a stone. Surely!She was ashamed of herself for thinking like that, after all maybe it was just some natural rock formation, an accident of the weather corrosion, or maybe who some kind of long forgotten meaningless sculpture. Why was she still thinking about it!?!? It had been more than an hour now. And not like she didn’t have the opportunity to raise the issue: everybody was silently walking along in shocked exhaustion, with only the quiet hum of those annoying mosquitoes to be heard. She could’ve said something! Did nobody else notice it? Was it too late to tell them how it made her feel? Would she just make a fool of herself? And why couldn’t she stop thinking about it? And then there were these other thoughts…
In the frightening depths of oceans, where no human has ever been except in nightmarish dark visions, there where horrible ancient creatures still swim undisturbed as they have for millions of years, the Aqueroyel is king among the underwater demons through a mixture of savage violence and unfading old magic from beyond. Only a true madman, consumed by all absorbing power hunger, could ever even conceive challenging him in his domain.
“Etheral Bureaucrats of the outer dimensions, the Branded Observariusoid float between universes and time, capturing all sorts of esoteric knowledge for unknown nefarious purposes. Scholars have speculated they centralize and coordinate it but nobody I’ve ever talked with has an even half credible guess as to whom they could be reporting to.”
from the private notes of Archimedius the 3rd, Great Scholar of the Unknown