Mistrust

I was really optimistic when the Eldritch Department agreed to help me, but now it’s looking like we’re going to be having a lot of trust issues.

They’ve got agents scouring the world for any eldritch locations that could help me, but they’re having a lot of trouble finding anything. Miskatonic doesn’t exist here. Nor does Innsmouth. All those temples and ruined I explored are gone. And the search is being further crippled by the fact that I can’t tell them my connection to Nyarlathotep. If they realize how close to the truth EAT was, I don’t doubt they’d hand me over.

On the flipside, my ability to experiment with my powers is being held back by the fact that they’re still not confident that I won’t run away at the first opportunity, so I’m constantly being kept around these sigils. At this rate, not much is being done by anyone. And it will probably continue to be that way until they start wising up and doing what I tell them to do, the bastards.

Ultimatum

Miles’ report must have worked, because a few days later I was told that I’d be reporting to the Eldritch Department’s Management Committee to tell them what I’ve seen happening to time. They’re apparently the people in charge of this whole place, so they’ll be the best qualified to deal with the issue.

I was really hoping meeting them would mean I’d get to finally leave this facility, but no. They came to a council room within this facility. Well, at least I got to see a new part of the place….

Agent Flint and Dr. Miles escorted me to meet the committee. There were seven of them in total. Mostly old rich looking white men. They resembled politicians more than any of the hardened monster hunters or researchers I’ve usually seen in the Eldritch Department. Some scientist I hadn’t met briefed them on the various disappearances which have been happening around the world, though judging by their bored looks, they already knew most of what he was telling them. Then it was time for Miles to introduce me.

“This is I-330, or Entity #361. She has some insights into the cause of the disappearances which may help us.”

My initial impression of them as just politicians may have been a bit too fast. Before I could really delve into the meat of the subject, I had to explain the basics of how the multiverse worked, and how I worked within it (saw Miles taking notes. Bet he was happy to finally hear me telling the truth about all this.) And not only did they understand what I was telling them easily, they were open to accepting what I said.

“So, these various timelines you see are, in practice, essentially parallel universes?” One asked after I finished.

“Basically yeah.”

“And if what you’re saying is true, then that means that several universes have already been destroyed. And these disappearances mean that our universe will likely be destroyed soon. Hm.” The committee had a few moments of hushed discussion before one spoke again. “Then, do you know the cause of this destruction?”

Shit, that was the question I was hoping they wouldn’t ask. Time for some fancy wordsmithing…. “There is a theoretical location, known as the Center of the Multiverse. If it were to be destroyed, it could potentially cause cracks similar to what I’m seeing spread across the entire multiverse.”

“Do you know what could make that happen?”

“…. No.” If they realized I was lying, they didn’t show it.

More hushed discussion. “Is there a way to reverse this?”

That was the big question, wasn’t it. The one I’d been thinking about the past few days. “I think so.” That brought looks of relief to their faces. “I once met someone with… similar abilities to my own. He talked a lot about the destruction of the multiverse, but he also talked about recreating it afterward. I know my powers are stronger than his, so I think, if he was able to do something like that, I should be able to reverse this.”

“Excellent! Then we just need to let you do fix this, and everything can return to normal?”

“Well… no. Not… exactly. I might have been stronger than him, but he was more aware of what our abilities could do, and how to control them. I think I can reverse this, but I don’t know how to do it.”

And suddenly that relief was gone. “Well… could we use this man you’re speaking of for assistance instead?”

“I… kinda sorta stabbed him and ate him alive.”

“Then there is no way to stop this?”

“Not at the moment, no….”

It was like I’d crushed that brief hope they’d gained right back out of them. One reached for a glass of water in front of him, and took a sip. The water had barely reached his lips before he froze and started shaking. The glass fell out of his hand, and his whole body twisted as he screamed in agony. The guards ran toward him, but he froze before they could reach him. Then, he slowly resumed his old posture, straightened his suit, and looked over the room with cool eyes. The guards had been trained well enough to instantly know what had happened, and they all drew their guns on the man.

One spoke into his radio, “A committee member has been infected by EAT, I repeat, a committee member has been infected by EAT, requesting immediate backup!”

EAT raised a hand and calmly spoke. “Relax. I am not here in order to create conflict.” It looked at the remaining members of the Management Committee. “To answer your previous question: Yes. There is a way to stop the Quiet from destroying the multiverse.”

The silence that statement created drew on for several moments until a committee member asked, “How?”

“I am currently speaking for majority of the remaining Fears as I deliver this message. We are willing to assist humanity and protect them from the Quiet, under one condition.”

Someone scoffed. “What? You want us to become your slaves and make you rulers of the world?”

“No. We will not ask for what we already have. The only condition we ask in return for ensuring the survival of humanity is that you give us Nyarlathotep.”

“….. Who?”

EAT pointed at me. “It has likely told you that its name is I-330, but its true name is Nyarlathotep. It is an Outer God which was sealed by the Slender Man within the Quiet, until it broke out by destroying the Center, directly leading to the current state of affairs.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Okay, that’s not… exactly how it happened, but it was a lot closer to the truth than what I’d told them.

“And what will you do to… Nyarlathotep if we give her to you?”

“We will remove it from the universe. Until now we have attempted to prevent the spread of the Quiet through manipulating the chain of events to our advantage, but Nyarlathotep’s attitude of spontaneous destruction has prevented those measures from succeeding. As such, we have determined that the only solution is to erase its existence entirely. If Nyarlathotep were to never exist, then the chain of events which we have tried to prevent will never begin in the first place. Once we have performed the task, you will not even notice the change. This entire incident will be forgotten: we Fears will resume ruling the multiverse, and you may resume pretending you are capable of opposing us.”

A lot of people in the room took offense to that last bit, but not enough to make them not consider the idea. The committee was scared, and EAT was offering an easy way out. I started to worry that they’d accept its proposal. Damn glowy symbol things on the handcuffs were preventing me from teleporting away…. I could probably disarm one of the guards and use their gun to get out of the room, but I couldn’t fight my way out of this whole facility with these cuffs on… and there’s no way I could fight EAT while limited like this….

“We don’t negotiate with Fears.” Thank god for Agent Flint, coming in to save my ass! “Never have, and I don’t think we should start now. And why the hell should we trust you, anyways? All this time terrorizing humanity, and suddenly now you want to be buddies with us? I’ll trust I-330’s story over yours; if she says she doesn’t know what caused this, she doesn’t know what caused it.” Yeah! Thanks for the support, Flint! And… the guilt. Oh god the guilt. This is how karma comes back to kick you in the ass, kids.

A member of the committee spoke. “Agent Flint is correct. Our job is not to negotiate with Entities, it is to protect people from them. Besides, if all of reality actually was threatened, you Fears wouldn’t stand to the side and let it happen. You’d stop it, if only to save yourselves.”

EAT nodded. “You are correct. We do intend to protect the multiverse whether you agree to our offer or not. However, failure to accept our conditions means we will make no attempt to protect humanity.”

It paused to let that sink in.

“You have until the Quiet fully reaches this universe, and its cracks appear in the sky. By that point, it will be too late to prevent its spread, and your race will be doomed to its fate.”

The body it had been possessing fell forward, unmoving. Water leaked out of its eyes and ears, dripping into the floor and seeping away.

A containment squad was soon sent in to deal with the water, but that was just a minor side note by then. The Fears have delivered their ultimatum. Hand me over, they save humanity. Protect me, they let humanity die. For now, it looks like the Eldritch Department’s siding with me. But if I can’t figure out a solution quickly… well….

Let’s just say I’m trying really hard to figure out how to get out of these cuffs.

I spent the past few days debating what I should do. Should I tell the Eldritch Department about what I’ve been seeing? Should I try to escape again and fix it on my own? Maybe a third solution would appear?

In the end, I went with the first. Rumors started to circulate through the facility about things disappearing. People, objects, one time an entire building, all across the world, vanishing without a trace. The Department was debating what the cause could be, but it was clear to me. The next time Dr. Miles came to interview me, I came clean with what I’d been seeing happen to time.

I was worried he wouldn’t believe me, but maybe the seriousness of my tone convinced him I wasn’t joking this time. The Department knew about the Quiet as an abstract, but they’d never had to deal with it spreading so quickly in their universe before. Although, um, I might have left out the part about me being the one who caused it to spread here in the first place.

Miles said he’d take what I’d said to his superiors. Hopefully they’ll listen. In the meantime, I’m going to try and figure out if it’s possible to put a universe back together after it’s been destroyed by nothingness….

Cracks in Time

This… this isn’t good. Not good at all.

I woke up this morning, and the first thing I noticed was that there were fewer timelines around me than I remembered. Which was impossible. If anything, the number of timelines should be increasing. That’s how they work: they’re constantly branching into new, parallel timelines. But this morning, there were somehow less than I remember seeing the day before.

In order to confirm what I was seeing, I spent the entire day watching the timelines. Probably confused the people watching me, since it’s likely the longest I’ve sat still since my containment. But I didn’t want any distractions. And sure enough, as I watched, I saw timelines disappear. It was slow, and only a few vanished during the entire day, which made me wonder how long this has been going on. If only a handful of timelines have been disappearing each day, I wouldn’t necessarily notice it until a large number were already gone.

But for me, the worst part was how they were disappearing. Cracks of nothingness would spread along them, and then the timeline would shatter to pieces. It was exactly the same as what had happened at the Center of the multiverse. Which means… I think this might be my fault.

I’m trying to decide if I should tell anyone here. I’m not sure how I would tell them. “Hey guys, I haven’t mentioned this until now, but I can kinda see time and it’s vanishing.” After all the tall tales I’ve been telling, I’m not sure whether or not they’d believe me on this. But I need to figure out something. I can’t just sit here and watch it disappearing like that….

Boredom

Booooooooooooored. So. Fucking. God. Damn. BORED.

I swear, the only reason I haven’t gone completely insane stuck here is because they’re letting me walk around parts of the place, even if I do have to be chauffeured. This is a really nice facility. About on par with what the Scoobies had, though these people seem more concerned with containment and control than direct confrontation. They’ve got a lot of interesting stuff locked up in here. A couple of monsters I’d never seen before, and even some Fear samples. Keeping a few drops of EAT inside a vial in their own facility sounds like a stupid idea to me, even if it is in a top security section, but that’s their problem, not mine.

At least the people here are nicer than I expected, once they got over the deal with me ripping through their security forces like they were paper. A lot of my amusement stems from messing with Dr. Mile’s attempts to keep everything clean and businesslike. The poor guy’s just trying to do some Science, and here I am telling him ridiculous stories about how I gained my time traveling powers after being abducted by aliens who told me I was the Guardian of Justice, who was destined to protect the universe from evil space bugs from Pluto. Maybe one day I’ll get him to loosen up. One day.

Another endless source of amusement has been watching the various reactions to my incessant flirtation. Agent Flint runs a tight enough ship that the personnel’s been able to resist my advances so far, but it’s still always fun to mess with them. And, honestly… I’m a little thankful that Flint’s strict attitude has kept anything from actually happening. It’s been god knows how long since I’ve had sex, but… I don’t know if I could go through with it with any of these random people. I… I miss Lisa. No matter how much I tell myself she’s gone, I can’t let go. I would have done anything to be with her a little longer. And I tried so hard to get her back, but now....

Well now I’ve gone and made myself depressed. I’m going to go and taunt the vials of EAT a little. That always makes me feel better.

Status Report

Dr. Aaron Mile’s report on Entity-361, aka I-330

***

Containment on I-330 remains secure. She still speaks about plans to escape, but these plans appear to be entirely in jest, and she has not made any serious escape attempts since the day she first woke up. Because of this and a consistently cooperative behavior, her security level has been decreased to Beta-2. She is allowed to walk through certain parts of the facility, so long as she is escorted and her hands are bound with custom designed cuffs bearing defensive sigils to prevent her from teleporting.

Since last week’s report, I-330 has requested:
-3 bottles of wine (Granted)
-2 ballpoint pens, black (Granted)
-1 bottle of vodka (Granted)
-A world history textbook (Denied)
-5 bottles of scotch (Granted)
-A picture of Agent Alex Flint’s husband, so she will “know what she’s competing with.” (Denied)
-A copy of Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov (Granted)
-2 bottles of whiskey (Granted)
- “Four beautiful young men and women, a bottle of whipped cream, dental floss, and a spatula” (Denied)
- “Anything with an internet connection” (Denied, this is the fourth time she has requested this)
-1 bottle of absinthe (Granted)
-A copy of Harry Turtledove’s Guns of the South (Denied, said author does not appear to exist in this universe)
-A spoon “strong enough to shovel an escape tunnel through these walls” (Denied)
-The complete works of J.R.R. Tolkein (Granted)


Medical tests continue to claim she is completely human, in spite of observed evidence to the contrary. We are still unable to gather any results on her left arm. We have abandoned trying to take samples from the arm, and instead have begun testing the arm itself. However, this has not achieved any new breakthroughs, as all our equipment consistently claims that her left arm does not exist.

Her eye has remained blue since we moved her to the containment suite, and we have not seen any of the belligerent behavior that marked her initial awakening. On the contrary, I-330 has shown herself to be extremely cooperative, and even eager to assist in any way she can. While unfamiliar with many localized or minor Entities, she has extensive knowledge of all Fear-Class Entities, which she has been willing to share when interviewed. What few tests we have been able to perform have all confirmed the validity of her knowledge. She also has displayed knowledge of procedure for containment and cleanup of several incidents under our jurisdiction, which she claims is due to experience leading government agencies in her universe. If she continues to act cooperatively, I may recommend further decreasing her security status to Alpha-3, and allow her to work with our field agents on a limited trial basis.

Attempts to learn of her origin have had limited success. Thus far we have been unable to find objective evidence regarding her history, and must continue to rely on her own statements. Given her obvious knowledge and experience, combined with the lack of any records on her, it is very possible that she really is from a parallel universe. However, the details of that universe are sparse. Her description of the “Scoobies” seems similar enough to our own universe’s government agencies to be grounded in fact, but her claims that she was a billionaire princess destined to inherit 3/4s of Europe are likely exaggeration. And the claim that America would elect a cowboy actor for president is simply ridiculous.

Overall, her status remains unchanged, and observation will continue as usual.

However, if I may note some concerns. I know this isn’t part of the standard checklist for these reports, but something about her is a little off. I don’t know how to put it into quantifiable terms, but ever so often I’m reminded of why, in spite of the medical evidence, we’re having a hard time believing she’s human. In the entire past week, I think we only recorded her sleeping a total of 10 hours, and judging by the thrashing she was doing during that sleep, it wasn’t the best of rest. Plus, I don’t think it’s possible for anything to drink as much alcohol as she has and still have a liver. And there’s something about the way she talks that makes it easy to obey her. At first I assumed it was just natural charisma, but continued observation has made me question that. People just like her, and worse, obey her, too readily. We’ve tried assigning guards who are noted for their emotional detachment and professionalism, but within a few days even they treat her with deference and friendliness. I don’t believe she’s fully aware of her effect on others, but something’s there. But whenever I try to think on it too hard, it feels like my brain is slipping, and I can’t focus. The only way I can remind myself that she isn’t some carefree party girl is by regularly rewatching security footage of her escape attempt. I recommend a significant increase in observation, and keeping several guards who are not in contact with her in reserve in case of another escape.

Dr. Miles

***

The last paragraph was deleted by Dr. Miles before he sent in his report.

The following are excerpts from I-330’s journal while in the custody of the Eldritch Department.

***

So it’s been a while since I had the chance to write anything down. Shame it has to be on this journal, but apparently my blog doesn’t exist in this universe. I’ll miss my little piece of the internet. Even if I’m still not entirely sure how it became mine.

After a few days being hung up in a straightjacket, this Eldritch Department that’s been holding me finally gave me my own suite. I’m still not allowed to leave, but it’s an improvement. They’ve also been accommodating most of my requests, which is how I got this journal. And the refrigerator full of scotch. But they wouldn’t fulfill my request for a cake containing the key out of here, the bastards.

At least the place they’ve got me set up in is nice, if you ignore the glowing sigils everywhere that are preventing me from teleporting out of here. I asked Miles about them, and he said he wasn’t sure exactly what they were. Apparently the Eldritch Department erred on the side of paranoia and put up every possible defensive ward on this building when they built it, whether or not they knew what the ward was supposed to defend against. And it seems I’m the first entity they’ve had who reacted to these specific sigils. They had to build containment rooms for me entirely from scratch to incorporate the symbols, so at least I get to feel like I’m special. There used to be guards in here all the time as well, but they stopped assigning them to my room after too many complaints of sexual harassment. Come on, how am I the person at fault there? Can I really be blamed when they’re the ones who keep putting attractive young soldiers in the same room as me? That’s just asking for trouble.

Oh yeah, Miles and Flint. My “handlers.” I occasionally see other members of the staff, but those two are the ones I encounter the most. The others seem a little frightened of me (as they should be!) Agent Flint is the senior operative of the two, even if he’s usually a field agent instead of research. Not bad on the eyes, but you’ve heard the saying about all the cute guys being gay. Miles fills the role of the awkward young scientist perfectly. Kid seems a bit overwhelmed by his job; I don’t think he’s used to being put in charge of handling an entity mostly by himself. It probably doesn’t help that I’m the entity, and I haven’t exactly been all that cooperative in regards to people researching me. And it certainly has to be frustrating for them that they have to keep relying on what I tell them, since any objective evidence to support or refute my stories vanished with the destruction of my home universe. And… well, I might not have been entirely as truthful with what I’ve been telling him as he’d like.

Yeah, parallel universe. Knew they existed, never thought I’d actually end up in one. Being that I’m imprisoned in this place, I can’t exactly go out and investigate how different this place is from my old universe. I think I may have overheard one of the guards talking about the Soviet Union in the present tense, but that’s all I’ve got to work with.


About my old universe…. I… well, I…. I mean….

No. Best not dwell on the past. Keep looking forward. I get enough guilt in my dreams.

The new containment facilities for I-330 were significantly more secure than her previous hospital room. Two men, one in a suit and the other in a lab coat with a bandaged head, walked down a hallway, having to pass through several well manned security checkpoints. The man in the suit spoke as they went through another checkpoint. “We’re estimating that the gas should be wearing off soon. This time we want to try actually talking to it instead of having it beating up all our security forces.”

The other man nodded, but appeared uncertain. “Are you sure you want me here? I’m still just a junior researcher….”

“You’re also the first person it saw when it woke up. Some people are hypothesizing it may react better to a familiar face.”

“It gave me a concussion as soon as it saw me.”

“I didn’t say it was a very good idea.” He glanced at the security camera on the ceiling. “Really, I just think the senior staff is too scared to be in the same room as it after what we saw it do yesterday, so they picked us to be the little sacrificial lambs.”

A final steel vault door was opened, and they stepped inside. The walls of the room were plain utilitarian metal, covered in lights shaped like various sigils. I-330 was in a straitjacket, suspended mid-air by several chains attached to the walls, ceiling, and floor. Guards stood around the perimeter, each with their rifles trained on her.

I-330 stirred as the two entered, and then opened a red eye. She tried to move, but found herself bound by the jacket and chains. She looked over the room, and focused on the two men in front of her. The one in a suit stepped forward and began to speak. “Finally waking up, I see. Why don’t we-”

“Let me down, human.”

The voice that came from her mouth didn’t fit her feminine appearance. It was deep, and filled with inhuman authority. The entire room shook under the power of her words, but the suited man didn’t flinch. “Sorry, but I can’t do that.”

I-330 roared. “Let me down, now!”

This time the room shook with enough ferocity to throw the suited man off his feet. Some of the guards lowered their weapons, and one began to fumble with the chains attached to the wall. The other guards pulled him away; for a moment he struggled, then he stopped, looking as though he had just woken up.

Seeing the failure of her command, I-330 looked down and sighed. When she looked back up, her eye had become bright blue. And this time, her voice did not carry terrible authority, but was merely the voice of a human. “Alright. Where the fuck am I?”

After the suited man got back on is feet, he spoke. “That’s a better attitude. I’m agent Flint, and this is Dr. Miles. You’re currently being held by the Eldritch Department.”

“What, you people are government?”

“In a way.”

I-330 laughed. “Oh, well, this should be easy. Just call the Scoobies, they know who I am.”

“The who?”

She looked at Agent Flint as if he’d admitted to not knowing what air was. “The Scoobies? The Para-Universal Beings Defense Agency? Come on, I know Lisa didn’t wipe them all out.”

When his expression remained confused, I-330 sighed theatrically. “Of course I get captured by the stupid government organization. The Para-Universal Beings Defense Agency, aka the Scoobies. The biggest paranormal branch in the CIA, one of the biggest in the US government. Founded in 1971 by presidential order under President Nixon.”

“President who?”

This time I-330 was the one who looked baffled. “President Richard Nixon. 37th president of the US.”

Agent Flint glanced at Dr. Miles. “Doctor, do you remember who the 37th president was?”

Miles hesitated for a moment, then said, “I believe it was Hurbert Humphrey.”

I-330 gaped at them for several moments. Then, she slowly started to laugh. “Of course!” She said. “Different universe. Parallel universe, I guess. Things are going to be different here.” She grinned madly at the two men. “Hello! I’m I-330. I’m a time traveling monster hunter from another universe that was just destroyed.”

A long silence fell after that remark. Then, Flint nodded slightly. “I’ve heard less plausible things before. Dr. Miles, what do you think?”

“Well, we’d need more evidence than just her word for confirmation. And there’s still the issue of her arm.”

“It’s demonically possessed.” I-330 lied easily.

“And the glowing red eye?”

“I suffer from extreme chronic pink eye.”

Agent Flint tried to cover his laughter with coughing.

“Well, now that we’re getting along so well,” I-330 said, “how about showing a little kindness and letting me out of these chains?”

The coughing laughter cased, and Flint’s eyes narrowed. “You’re very determined to get out of here.”

I-330 shrugged, causing the chains to jangle. “Not that I don’t like the kinky stuff. But I’m sure you and I could have more fun with my hands free.”

Flint chuckled. “Sorry, but I’m happily married.”

“No problem. I’m sure I can talk your wife around to my point of view.”

“Who said anything about a wife?”

It took a moment for I-330 to catch the meaning. “Ah. I see. Seduction isn’t going to work on you, is it?”

“Not even a little.”

I-330 looked at Miles. “What about you, prettyboy?”

Miles flushed deep red, but Flint stepped in front of him. “The scientific staff isn’t allowed to fraternize with people from different universes.”

Dr. Miles whispered to Flint, “Is that actually a rule?”

“It is now.” Then, to I-330. “Regardless of how much you want to get out of here, we can’t release you until we can accurately determine whether or not you represent a threat to humanity. If you are cooperative, I can provide you with better quarters than this. But you will still be kept under guard.”

I-330 shot the agent a killing glare, but he didn’t waver. Finally she said, “Alright. I’ll play along. What do you want?”