Chiasmata: Found Footage

>So, when does the plan start?

They pause for a second, seemingly lost in thought.

ARCHIVIST: "Hmm. I suppose-"

With a sound like breaking glass, something changes behind them, and they yelp in surprise.

ARCHIVIST: "Oh cripes."









==~>

Something seems... disjointed, and Archivist is reacting to things you can only see in your peripheral vision. Spreading cracks, little flecks of darkness that twist and writhe across your perception.

ARCHIVIST: "Uh- don't worry? It's just, just that I'll have to - dangit - enact my plan sooner rather than later. And maybe there's some..."
SAM: "What's going on?"

They don't seem to register your question, too preoccupied with... whatever it is they're doing.

ARCHIVIST: "He's... trying to get in? He can't possibly be serious. Still, if he's playing chicken with the structure of the Location, I... I don't have a choice, do I?"

And then, with a hollow not-noise, they vanish, like a soap bubble popping.









==>

Everything continues to deteriorate. It's like everything's not working. The walls and floors no longer meet at right angles. Distances stop being consistent.

SAM: "I sure hope they're going to get help."

The room shudders, but you don't feel anything, just see it move.

DANIEL: "I wouldn't count on it?"
ASH: "Look."

Something far greater and far stranger than yourself or your perceptions is happening. Great hands seize everything, and start to move it in directions you can't fathom.









~>

On the Outside, looking in.

(right)
(wait)

It'd be silly to describe an action as "clearing one's metaphorical throat", but that is as good a description as any.

~ah, that's better~
~good to have the old voice back, and pull my brain fully out of that machine~
~right, let's get to this~
~they're all here in this self-contained four-level tesseroid of root three rooms per side~
~can't see how he's getting in, but it's destabilising, so...~

<Θ>

~concatenate the subject collections, and then...~
~archive, show me the code~
<complying>

And from behind a dark curtain, comes a twist and turn of binding rope.
The words that weave the world together.









<Θ>

~right, and slot them into the machinery, so the archive can...~
<analysing>
~take them somewhere safe, okay~
<analysing>
[warning: unrecognised admin]
[warning: unrecognised unknown]
~i'll have to work on that error message~
~but if i don't know where they're going, no-one else will either~
~and the location's work will continue, which is always a bonus~

~~>

~now, what was i forgetting?~

======>

[error: unauthorised access]
>enter passphrase<

Footnote:

SpoilerShow

Gosh, has it really been six months?
It might not have, I haven't done the maths.

Thanks for your patience!

Note: I've changed the style of drawing slightly to make it less labour-intensive, and will work on shading in my larger and fancier draws.