[Anonymous Artificer's Sandbox]

Introduction

Hello, reader person. I am "Anonymous Artificer", also known as "Scalapher" on the Reading Room Discord. this is my sandbox page, and I hope you don't mind the rather informal and out-of-character introduction. I know quite a lot of people here really like getting into their author a little bit. I'm still figuring out this whole wikidot business, so I apologize for any terrible structuring, etc. If you have any tips or advice, you can find me in the Wanderer's Library "Reading Room" discord server with my wikidot name in parenthesis in my nickname- I would highly appreciate it. What follows is a table of contents structure with in-page links to all works in progress.


1. Unmaking's Remnant

The Jailors? You speak of them as if they are so very important… Let me share with you a tale, fellow wanderer.

I came from a universe likely very different from yours.

From where I came, humanity surpassed all challenges it faced. We reached to the stars, achieved immortality, and built a dyson sphere around our first sun. We could jump lightyears in seconds. I saw it all become. As we progressed in such a manner, there was less need for the Foundation. When humanity has made peaceful contact with extraterrestrial civilizations, when your average person becomes an immortal who often would choose to change their appearance, biology, and even whole species using genetic engineering and cybernetics, when most of the anomalies prior held in Foundation custody are now understood, there is little need for an old order such as theirs. Our masquerade did not shatter, rather, it dissolved naturally over time.

It wasn’t long before The Foundation only concerned themselves with the most extreme and dangerous forces, but eventually, their role was taken over by the Union of Systems. We and our extraterrestrial allies shared a government, resources, and space once the Union was formed. I lived on Mars, the first human colony beyond Earth- you may expect the moon, but that wasn’t how things shook out. An anomalous artifact was used to terraform the planet, and so our journey began. I was one of the first colonists, back when I was still human in the original sense. In my original life- before it was extended indefinitely- I was an engineer. I later became a scientist as well, though it was difficult to keep up when everyone was immortal and discoveries came so frequent.

All of this may sound grand and promising, and it certainly was. We reached our wildest dreams, and everyone believed that we were ready for everything, that nothing could possibly stop us now. Alas, we were but Icarus and his hubris. There was something in the unknown for which we did not account. One day, without warning, a force of hostile entities appeared within UoS space. We believed that we were prepared. We had stockpiled weapons unimaginable- marvels of technology, and that which you might call magic. We had the ability to destroy entire stars if we wished- perhaps even a galaxy or two. We could see and attack something with overwhelming energies on any dimension which they might reside. Or so we had thought. Our enemy was… simply and plainly ethereal- they cared not for anything of any physical nature. We blasted them with every wave, particle, ray, what-have-you, to no avail. It was as if these creatures existed outside of space entirely, and yet, here they were. Likewise, they did not strike one as you might expect of a monster, they did not attack by any known means. Instead, they struck the minds of living things and sentient beings. They consumed and fed on imagination and intelligence, any semblance of thought, artificial and biological intelligences alike.

The shadows were shapeless and formless, an unstoppable tide which simply erased everything we were. When they were done swarming and ravaging their prey, they would cease to exist- their prey that is, not the monster. As far as I could tell, the latter never existed to begin with. The tide of shadow made short work of the UoS, leaving the universe as dead as it began- likely moreso. Even any anomaly with any even rudimentary mind was gone.

Now, you may ask how I sit here before you, able to tell my story. I created a machine which allowed me access to the Ways, and escaped, eventually arriving at this library- a lone survivor and refugee. Here I remained, for nearly a thousand years, frequenting bars, contemplating the loss of my entire reality, speaking to wanderers who still had a universe to call home- one to return to, considering the use of my killswitch- which all those given immortality were granted to use at their discretion- living forever can truly tire a mind, and eventually drive one mad. It was a dark time, and it took me a very long time to move on. The library is safe, there is an entire multiverse to explore, I have all the time in the world to read, and I met some very unique and interesting characters. So here I am, deciding what to do next. And still looking for answers, wanting to know what erased my entire world.

Eons of civilization's progress failed to stop them. Can the library?

You see, I was not the first to construct such a portal. Someone let them in. They came from the Ways.

So beware, dear listener, beware that which never was- And beware the stranger who seeks to grant them greater form.

I know not the perpetrator certain, but promise me this. If you find them, do not pause, do not flee. Remove them from being, for the good of us all.


2. Not Yet Titled

I grab my coat off of the rack, and leave the empty, dilapidated, candle-filled room behind me. As I force open the door and step out into the night, the peculiar presence does not subside, yet they continue to follow me. My own invisible entourage, I suppose. I pull my coat lapels, and begin walking into the cold, wet, frosty night- trying to stride with the most confidence I can muster. The lamps are dim, as if their light were being subdued, or rather consumed, by the flurrying miasma that fills the night sky. My boots strike upon the wet cobblestones, and the sound seems to become audible above the wind, the impact and the splash of my footfalls. I’m not stomping, but I fear the noise that I make. I alter my gait to try sneaking instead. Suddenly, a man appears out of the fog and mist ahead, beside a bright blue automobile with a glistening gold sigil on either side. He is wearing a blue police uniform, with his silver helmet and night-vision visor. “Oi, you there. Why are you skulking about like that? Not getting up to any trouble I hope.” his voice breaks the eerie, gusting silence. “No officer, of course not. I just didn’t want to find any, what with the miasma in the air.” I reply. “That’s what we’re here for, we’re stationed all across the city. Do you have anything to report?” Suddenly, there is a loud, high hissing noise, as if a gas pipe had ruptured somewhere nearby. A nearby alleyway seemed to become darker, and more abstracted by the mist than it was prior. Then, the tendrils pour out, and launch themselves at the officer. The officer has little time to react, and is carried off by the creature, his gun firing wildly into the night. Another emerges from the portal formed by the space between the two brick buildings. After that moment, I make a rush for the officer’s car. I smash the window, manage to jump into the driver’s seat on the right without cutting myself too much on the glass, and spark my fingers with a snap, triggering the ignition coil and causing the engine to roar to life. With the very visible presence hovering in the right mirror, I don’t hesitate to floor the pedal, and thus I begin my escape. The spoked and rubbered wheels squeal against the stones of the road, as I race down the hill, my pursuers clear behind me. The dockside is coming close at this point, so I take a sharp turn to the left to avoid a watery grave. The vehicle nearly flips over, with the leftmost tires airborne and off the ground by some measurement. Luckily, gravity forces them back into place and thus the vehicle rights itself. A little more driving, with those spectres in tow, and I see bright spotlights up ahead, atop a dark steel wall. I sped up to the city checkpoint, as gunshots pierce the night, visible tracers flying from atop the towers, and driving themselves into the monsters.


3. Wanderer's Cookbook

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