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abyss

Drownward Vector

Я работаю над:
Рабочее место №1
Рабочее место №2
В моей голове появляются мысли и я записываю их здесь.

Found the weapon and notes at the bottom of the facility. Apparently, these are called "The Lions," and they are a beauty. I don't know how much time I have left, but I can't remember what I was doing this morning or what year it is. More importantly, it's started to eat my English. Most words are still here, but spelling and grammar are slipping. Some words have lost their meaning. I know "calculus" is a thing, but I no longer know what it means. It can take spelling and meaning, but it struggles with both. It would be a waste of time to relearn all the spellings of the words I've written, but it's worth figuring out what they mean from context. All I know about myself is what's on these notes and documents I have here, speed reading to keep enough info in my leaking head to stay active. I have to finish this war before I can't read these pages.

According to preliminary test documents, they are powerful enough to wipe out several full-blown 'Jungian Archetypes' if they could only get targeted right, but that's a big if. The issue is compatibility. The Lions are supposed to cast a 'host' for the concept into oblivion along with the target, but the hands on the walls aren't corporeal enough. My lack of presence means I can't drag one of the puppets into the center, which is a shame because they seem to be the only valid host in the area. I have one option: If their jaws won't take the target, then I'll cast myself into the Lion's maw to drag them in, so no one else gets consumed. All that's left is to build the gallows that I will hang from for eternity.

I've set up The Lions now, and thankfully I had a last stroke of genius as I finished the powder. I still have the cocktail of unused mnestics in my pockets. If I feed one of the hosts, they should be able to bypass my inherent antimemetic properties. I'll have to lead whatever host I find first into the center of these chrome devils, turn them on, and nuke this memory glutton from existence.

I gave one of the hosts wandering the upper floors a memetic dose strong enough to rip open every repressed memory in a war veteran's psyche. Seems all the puppets share perception because they all started dashing for me at once. I thinned out the herd, give or take 30 bodies just in the front hall. I went for the armed guards first, but they still got my shoulder. I shouldn't be surprised how much that hurts. These things seem to be fast for a normal person, but so am I. I must have enhanced myself physically at some point; it must have been a while ago if I didn't think to write it down. Dumb move, in my opinion. I beat them downstairs easily and write this last passage as I wait for one of the hosts to reach the bottom floor.

It's time: I hear their steps approaching from around the corner. Regardless if this works or not, I won't remember after it's over, nor will anyone else. I just hope I remember myself enough to piece it all back together.

Структурные: публичный_черновик
версия страницы: 262, Последняя правка: 06 Янв. 2025, 05:03 (15 дней назад)
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