Any item that was once considered a Subject will go under two categories. Either it was just a basic Earthly item with abilities, or an other worldly relic or artifact.
Artifacts are still considered Subjects since they are not of human origin, but anything, like the Infinite Mug or Century Glass will be Considered Subject: 010-C’s which are inanimate objects placed within Subject: 010.
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Also, I’ve been creating an entire table for each Subject, explaining their type, name, serial, and information. I also highlight the label and I’ve been highlighting the Subjects in Gold if they were created by a member of the community, along with being credited.
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I forgot what all I added new, but I think I added @CodeAlpaca suggestion on the idea of a watch or stop watch. I forgot the name I gave the entity, but it’s considered a Subject: 10-C which allows the user to travel backwards in time by a short duration (like 10-30 seconds) or allows the user to pause time for an even shorter duration. But it can only be activated once and has a cool down. But it’s generally based on the strength of the user. Humans it’ll take a full 24 hour cycle cooldown while Foremakers could be just an hour or so. But considered this item has only been obtained by the Foundation, only humans have used it.
I also created another 10-C with @DWgamemaster_FINALE design of a compute with infinite storage. Basically it’s just a hard drive that was inserted into Subject: 010.
After the termination of Site: 006, it was confiscated by Site: 005 and they put a copy of every document onto the hard drive in case it was to ever get corrupt over time. Since entities are still experimental.
Another thing I found kind of ironic is how the Foundation avoids the use of Subject: 010, but Earl Wystan persisted anyway. After he was arrested, the Foundation confiscated and used all of the 10-As and 10-Cs while 10-Bs were humans, they were killed off.
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You may have thought that Eldern isn’t the only one of his kind.
The Architects have been activated once already, and then activated a second time.
Fudrese the One was the first Cordik to be involved with the known worlds. After he was killed off by the Architects, Eldern of Many was the second Cordik. Eldern saw a lost world without no guidance and instead of attacking head on as Fudrese had done, he wished the worlds to be ruled to the point where his Foremakers can get whatever they want. A longer process, but it ensures victory.
Although there is something in the known worlds that keeps attracting the Cordiks, and it’s unsure where or what world they come from themselves. Eldern is one of the youngest Cordiks, but he’s so old that he doesn’t remember his past, but knows of his mission.
In the timeline where Hawk timejumps into the future and the Foremakers rule over the known worlds, the many other Cordiks arrive.
You may have remembered the creature concept known as One Without Name, the massive biomass that consumes space itself. I originally had it that it came from the same world as the Blood Knight, but I’m gonna change that. The Blood Knight was still from a bio-engineered world, but One Without name is Jheritum of the Mass, a banished Cordik. That’s why he’s out there and the Foremakers fear him as he’s one of the oldest Cordiks, but Eldern doesn’t even know who he was or what he is.
I still haven’t thought of a true reason why they are after the known worlds, may it revolve around Mordil at some point.
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Been doing some work on the story summary and I changed the name of Order Core.
It’s now called the Omnikrov Installation, which originally started in the US under the name Order Corp. and sought the beneficial and illegal use of specimen DNA and their abilities. The Foundation swore against the use of entities for production, while the Order Corp. did just the opposite. Since the Foundation was more successful at containing and studying the entities, they moved to communist ran countries or countries with very little government to establish their facilities, where they utilized entities for efficiency and production on either materials or labor.
One of it’s largest facilities is in Russia, given the change of name.
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Another thing I was thinking about was the text of Eldern, which is now known as the text of Cordiks. An ancient language only Foremakers know.
I was going to make it simple and have it so it’s just a simple translation of English, so the alphabet was slightly different with different letters, but if the word N’legahn means for Justice, that means the words are going to be spelled entirely different than from English.
Now for my sake, I’m not going to make a new word for every existing word in the English dictionary. Kind of like what Skyrim did with the dragon shouts. I’m only going to have simple words or phrased that are ever mentioned. Anything else wouldn’t contribute to the main story.
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wait is this a story of some sorts (sorry if this was off topic)
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Good, lol.
Oh jeez, you know nothing. Yes, it’s kind of like game lore, I think. It’s really run to read.
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This entire discussion started as a dev log for a game I’m making, which it’s still in production, but I’ve kind of lost motivation for it, but I’ll finish it one day.
Anyway, during the time when I first created the game, I got into story writing and sure enough, I created an entire universe around what used to be an SCP rip-off to an entirely unique world.
I had a short summary somewhere, but it’s kind of outdated since I’ve changed a lot of stuff, but it still applies to the general plot.
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Here is the summary I was able to find. If you manage to read all of it, it should explain a majority of the context.
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I’m currently working on a huge summary that includes just about everything. Every short story I’ve ever written and will write, every book, character, planet, etc.
So far, the entire doc is like 50 pages alone, but a lot of it is long lists of characters and such.
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Onests are unknown creatures of imaginable horror among the many mysteries of the known worlds. It’s unsure where they come from, but only a few have been actively seen in the past, but not many live past its behavior.
“They burrow in the hides of ships until not a soul is left to claim it” a quote that originally informed the known worlds of their existence and they appeared to attack planetary transportation vessels years prior to the Second Cordik.
They appear to dwell inside the ships hull and psychologically haunt and torture most of the crew to suicide or until their mind simply decays into nothing. Oftentimes portraying very gory acts of self inflicted wounds to “ease their minds of their sound.”
Even the victims bodies rapidly decay even while still alive to the point only ashes remain. It’s unknown why the Onests do this or what they even are. They appear to be translucent in the spatial void so not even radar or the naked eye will ever see their approach. No one even knows what their body looks like, but only the dead are theorized to be able to gaze upon their form.
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A planetary vessel was slightly damaged from a long journey and had no choice but to land on a planet that was unknown to the user.
It landed not far from a village of natives who were a humanoid species. A pair of New Caben Elites were in the proximity as the village was not far from a stationed outposts under Cabenus.
A figure emerged from the vessel who appeared to have a liquid body with white bone-like plating around it, forming some sort of armor. His head revealed to be a ceramic skull, but quite different.
“What do you seek here?” One of the Elite soldiers asked as the figure approached them.
“I’m looking for someone I suppose. You wouldn’t have happen to find a body like myself?” The two Elites were confused as the ceramic skull looked at his surroundings.
“We haven’t seen your kind before, it may be best you take your leave or we’ll…”
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to do much.” The skull faced spoke, as he looked in the distance, a large military ship entered the atmosphere and headed down towards the station below. As he started walking, the two Elites drew arms.
“Where do you think you’re heading? You are ordered to leave this planet at once.”
“Why the hate. It seems the Cordiks didn’t introduce us.” He swiped his arm as a dark acidic substance formed on the outside of the plating and burnt the Elite in half. The other fired his rifle as it merely bounced from his body. The ceramic skull only had to look at him as his very blood because the similar black substance inside him and melted his skin from the inside. The black ink spilt from his skull as he collapsed to the ground.
The ceramic skull looked down at the two corpses and soon they started to animate as their skin and armor fell off, but their blood formed a black adhesive that held the skeleton up. The Elite that was in two, soon became one, but was slightly crooked as he stood. They were silent, for they could not speak.
“It seems this world is very unfamiliar of us.” He started walking through the village as the natives were running into the houses terrified of this new creature. The two animated skeletons followed behind him. He paid no attention to them as a banner being hung high above the village caught his gaze. It resembles the crest of Cabenus, but the ceramic skull knew who it truly belonged to.
He faced the two skeletons.
“I hurts me to have to claim your lives, but it seems it was already taken. Just as the Cordiks had once done to us. Now I’m one of the three remaining of Ghonos. The Cordiks have gone silent in the outer realms, which means they’re onto the last artifact.”
-Kildrictus, the Shirmarik Skull
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Not sure if anyone is probably interested, but I’ve been working on a project recently which is mostly just testing some different mechanics out I don’t normally use. Anyway, it’s going to be more of a click and point adventure, with some combat and exploration features as well. The theme is going to evolve around the horrors of AI, but not the idea that AI will rule the world one day, but the perspective of the sentient robot itself.
Since an AI robot only comprehends data based on what it’s given, not the entire context of life, it doesn’t understand religion or purpose other than what it’s been initially programmed to do.
So, the game will probably appear very dark in terms of story, which I mostly work with horror and overall easy gameplay, but never with a very dark theme. Dark as in depressing than horror. Hopefully it turns out good, if I get around to finishing it. What I have in store for the game will probably take every bit of an hour to complete the game, but I want to at least extend the gameplay a little bit. Not sure how most of the actual gameplay will work, but I’ll think of something.
Not sure if this will relate to the Scepter Foundation lore or not. I could have it tie into the future timeline or something, but this probably won’t relate to any event that I can think of.
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Alright everyone, listen up.
I started doing a final edit over my book, New Caben and I’m glad to say the first chapter is done. Only 16 pages of 230, but that’s pretty huge. Only took like an hour, but it took even more motivation.
I could post the entire first chapter on here as sort of an introduction to what the series is, if anyone is interested. I won’t post anything further on it except explaining some content that is to come.
And I’m still taking character requests. One entity that someone on the community made (I believe it was @DeadlyGumChewer ’s Subject: 012, Material) will possibly be in the second book. Not for sure, but I want to include as many characters as possible to help convey the large world better.
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I would love to see the first chapter posted in this topic.
Also I’m surprised that Material still exists! I thought it would’ve been lost to time by now.
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I have a bookmark for every character posted and I also store all of them on a google doc. So he’s one of the 200+ characters I have listed, lol.
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I’d love to read the first chapter!
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Alright, here is the first chapter.
I probably should have phrased my post above a bit more clearly. When I edited it, I got the format that I wanted. Since my writing style is pretty wack so I sometimes reuse the same words or phrase many different times throughout a single paragraph, so a lot of the editing is mostly rewriting and making sure it doesn’t feel repetitive.
Also keep in mind, 16 pages is a lot, and this is an excerpt from a full fledge book, so I don’t expect anyone to probably read this entire thing. The beginning is very slow, since it lays the foundation of the plot, but I think it’s pretty good. If there’s any spelling errors or criticism that needs shared, let me know.
RIP to anyone on mobile.
Chapter 1
Chapter I, Visions
I was sprinting through the dark, but why? The landscape lacked any light, except for the moonlight luminating above. I appeared to be running from something, but I was unsure of what. As I darted hastily through a somewhat visible trail, I started to make out the shapes of branches and brush passing by. The tree’s shadows dancing against the moonlight seemed to be visible against the forest, leaving no traces of light towards the ground. Something about the moon seemed unfamiliar, almost artificial. The ray of light swept across the forest as the shadows changed positions in accordance to nature. It wasn’t a moon, but a searchlight. Everything followed with a fuzzy haze, but eventually came into a familiar form. I heard loud eruptions behind me. The noises echoed amongst the forest trees. It was gunfire.
The gunshots grew louder as if they were starting to get closer. The searchlight waved over to my right, revealing a clear path. I proceeded to head in that direction. The searchlight started to fade as I put distance between myself and its origin. The gunfire continued, each shot blasting a continuous ringing into my ears, but nothing enough to break my mind from action.
I noticed a branch along the path and in an attempt to vault over it, I tripped as I tumbled over the stray limb. I collapsed to the ground. Just as quick as I fell, I rose from the earth. I noticed a delicate flicker of wind darting through the air and then it went off into the void.
Once returning to my sprint, I was met with a new searchlight. As it waved across the forest floor, the light was broken up by the large canopy of branches above. The multitude of rays had illuminated figures in the distance behind me. I noticed soldiers, all dressed in similar white armor. Blue lights emanated from their helmets. The loud twirling of a helicopter’s propellers could be heard nearby. The massive bird only left a vivid streak in my mind, but its existence had not yet faded. Suddenly, a bullet seemed to fly past my face just as the light was shining overhead and for a moment, I could almost see it. The tiny metallic arrow was just as quick as the light erupting from the barrel. Everything felt as if it were inactive. Almost like the world had been frozen in time. Only I was able to view the world at such a pace.
The bullets were almost visible to the naked eye. I was hopping over fallen trees and passing through bushes. The soldiers following closely behind, seemed to have struggled with the same environment and quickly faded into the background.
It was dark. The very forest is almost impossible for even the most skilled of sights to even gaze at its image, but I seemed to understand it. I felt the power of my environment, the surrounding darkness. I wasn’t sure why, but the darkness gave me a sense of relief being in its presence. Flickers of light would scatter across the tree leaves, but were devoured by the eternal shadows.
As I proceeded through, the night seemed to have molded around me. The terrain seemed very visible as if I could feel everything enveloping me. I wasn’t sure of this new ability and it felt rather strange to me, but I had no time to complain. I began to realize the bullets didn’t seem to be any threat as I ran deeper through the forest. The noise grew faint, even the light above started to break apart. For a moment, I thought I had fled, but something inside me persuaded me otherwise. Almost like I had experienced this situation before and I knew the outcome, but every moment felt almost new to me.
I soon slowed my pace and took cover behind a sturdy tree that was standing alone in a patch of grass. I leaned against the oak and took a merciful moment to regain my breath. I hadn’t realized my stamina had run dry, my body had ached from weariness, but the pain felt distant somehow.
A noise exploded from the brush in front of me. I felt a sting of pain had begun to travel up my left arm and branch throughout my body. The bullet had passed through my skin and exited into a nearby tree as if my body was gelatinous. I collapsed against the tree in shock as I gripped my arm to find the pain started to ease rather quickly. I hesitantly looked down in fear of finding a waterfall of blood pouring from a gaping wound, only to realize I had no visible wound at all. There was a small embossed mark on my shirt, but even it was left untouched by the bullet’s damage. My arm had a continuing tingling feeling that suddenly dissipated. I rose from the ground as a collection of lights started flickering across the forest floor. A unit of soldiers had approached from the darkness, all equipped with flashlights mounted on their shoulders that barely penetrated the night. I felt the urge to run, but it seemed as everything started to pause in that moment.
The vision was then distorted by the constant sound of an alarm. My mind awakened. Reality started to replace the vision that once took over. I opened my eyes to find myself facing the ceiling of my apartment and realizing it was all a dream. My alarm clock continued to shout echoing screams before it became too unbearable. I instinctively slid my hand over it, turning the deafening noise off. I continued to lay on my bed and started thinking of my past and what happened, although there was very little to remember.
The morning was very dark and it almost looked the same as it did the night prior. I even checked my clock again to make sure it wasn’t set too early. A faint sense of paranoia. As I progressed through the morning routine, I tried remembering the dream I had. I felt it bleeding from my memory. I quickly found my old notebook and detailed out the vision on paper. There were many entries I had written that explained the various dreams I’ve had previously. I noticed it’s the same vision, over and over. Slowly revealing just a single detail each time, I suddenly remembered the bullet passing through my arm and it seemed to be a brand new detail. I couldn’t remember the last time my arm felt like that in a dream. My arm still had a slight fuzzy feeling to it, but not enough to be fairly noticeable. The idea of the pain slightly concerned me, as I have no memory of my past or anything related.
The morning sun started to slowly rise over the horizon, and the darkness faded. The light started to glow through my window alongside the streets outside. I grabbed my notebook and a few other essentials. I parted for my weekly visit to Dr. Nathaniel’s office.
A few years before, an incident occurred and I remember waking up alongside of a highway with major head trauma. I was carried off by a local deliverer to the nearest hospital. I was surprised to find the condition I was in, but I could not recollect any memory before that.
Surprisingly, I remembered my education and could speak without issue, but at the time, was advised from doing so before my injuries were completely healed. The only thing on my person was an identification card that claimed my name to be ‘Jerold Beckett’. Everytime the name was read to me, it felt odd. It almost seemed it didn’t belong to me, but it had to be my name. The name would echo in my mind, almost as if it’s trying to fit into the missing puzzle pieces that have scarred my brain. The name never found the spot it had originally been. I couldn’t explain why, but something within me almost treated it as just another name, like a series of digits. I only thought of it as a title, to differentiate my body from others.
Other than the card, I was found with a few rare oddities such as a cracked knife, and a few handgun bullets that slipped out of a spare magazine. They were collected on the bottom of my back pocket. I must have used a firearm before I was found. I felt familiar with weapons, but I don’t recall ever using any. I thought it odd myself to have such equipment on me, but it felt natural.
I stepped outside my apartment door into a richly decorated hallway that connected many of the rooms together. The apartment complex was fairly furnished, but I consider it far from luxury. It was the best the Foundation could insure during my recovery. I found the stairway which seemed to show the true value. The large concrete chute had steel bars alongside the spiraling staircase. All the hideous insides were masked away by a wooden door that matched the detail of the hallway. The handrails seemed almost greasy from the shiny uneven surface of the metal and the stairs themselves seemed to be of cheap platforms. I remember there being an elevator, but something inside me refused to use it. I hated being concealed in a small area for even a little duration. I don’t know why, but I gain an easy amount of anxiety and panic. Almost like I was trying to remember an event in my life, only for it just to fly away.
When I was first introduced here, I remember feeling something I think I had felt before. I was placed within the elevator and taken to my room, only my entire body was shaking. My heart was racing and I felt severe discomfort, although I don’t think it’s claustrophobia, but it was triggering something in my past. My mind was trying to draw a picture of a blank canvas, so many possibilities, but no visible answers. Sudden events in my life will trigger anxiety and fear, but most seem at random.
I floated down several flights of stairs and found myself in the lobby. It was decorated to the fullest to make the entire structure appealing as it was the face of the building. It had breakfast for the morning goer’s and a small workout area. I believe there was an inside pool somewhere located on the first floor, but it never interested me.
There were a few coffee pots near the buffet line. Many of the containers were already close to empty, but I drained the dark liquid into one of the paper cups provided. I took a sip of the warm fluid as it immediately eased my mind and I felt the morning weariness exit my soul. I wasn’t one to partake much in coffee, but it helps my mind from the constant conflict.
I left through the front doors, several taxis and buses rolled past and every time a traffic light changed color, one street would fill with vehicles before being flooded down further into the city. Massive sky tearing towers littered the area and the horizon was completely obstructed from view. The buildings seemed to line up as if patterned in a perfect grid, even the architecture seemed quite similar to even the smallest of details.
I trailed along one of the sidewalks as I took in the scenery. The constant honking of horns, the smell of food vendors, and then I was next to a construction site. Multiple power tools echoed off the passing cars. I felt a pinch of pain in my head when a jackhammer was plowing through an even slab of concrete. The constant rhythmic beat reminded me of something, but it felt too distant.
I was soon in the subways. The tunnel descended from the ground and it led to a small area packed full of all kinds of people. Most wore dark outfits and carried suitcases. They appeared to be heading towards office-like jobs. Many others must have used the tunnels for general transportation. Women, children, old, young, all kinds of people filled the area. After I passed through, I entered a large lobby where a single railway entered the room from one side and exited the other. A train was to arrive soon.
I took a seat at one of the less crowded benches and I gripped ahold of my notebook, still sipping on coffee until I had emptied the cup. Society felt rather different and no matter how I tried, I feel I couldn’t fit in. It felt as if I was convicted against the world. The world knew who I was, but I couldn’t remember myself. The pain of not knowing a glimpse of the past eats away every day. Few would say it’s better than knowing, but the scars only spread worse amongst my mind. I know I had an entire life before the incident, like a design imprinted amongst the sand, only for the tide to wash it away, resetting the shoreline to its natural form.
I rubbed my eyes as a variety of people came and went from the lobby and a train had entered the station. It roared out of the tunnel. Its velocity started to decrease at a linear rate until the doors of the cars aligned neatly with the platform. As there was an exchange of passengers, I approached the train. I quickly evaded through the crowd and found a spot in the car. Moments passed without realizing and the train took off. The car smelt of sweat and perfume. There was an immense amount of civilians packed in the small area. Many sitting on benches with just as many standing up, holding onto the handles and whatever they could grab. A group of teens started chatting amongst themselves and an older couple sat quietly together, while the man seemed to be reading a newspaper. The date had read, “August 1st, 2016”, almost two years since the incident. There were a lot of people my own age as well, but some gave me quick glances and some refused to even look in my direction. It seemed like everyone knew who I was just at a glance, but only if I could remember.
The train stormed down the tunnel. My grip tightened around my notebook as if it was the only possession I had. I wouldn’t care less if I lost all of my material wealth, the notebook felt as important as anything. It was listed with the same constant dream, every time it occurred. Even quick naps throughout the day would spark the same vision. There was something sentimental about the notebook. Just a traditional paperback notebook with a black cover. The lined pages seamed together by a spiral bind. It was given to me by the Foundation to record strange occurrences or any memories I may have recovered during my time at the apartment, only for it to be a record, skipping the same memory over and over.
The book seems ordinary to anyone else, and it almost looked like a sketch pad to others. The book was an anchor for my sanity. The only thing keeping my mind organized and focused on the world around me. The very details it brings are very much difficult to describe, but knowing of its presence brings me comfort.
The train continued on down the tunnel and the windows on the side of the cars barely showed anything of interest. Just quick lights and wall segments fazing by. The entire trip seemed to drag on every second. I then took notice of the most random of details that caught my attention and it was hard trying to focus on reality so my thoughts wouldn’t take over. Everyone sat crowded on the train and it was hard to really focus at all. Every time I turned, there was always another person even closer than the last.
Just as I wondered when the train would stop, I soon felt the force as the entire car started to drastically slow until it had come to a stop. The doors opened and I was on my way. The downtown part of the city was just as packed as the rest. People scattered every possible area and even areas people weren’t normally at. Getting from the station to the facility wasn’t much of a hassle since I remember the same routine every time.
I quickly hustled across a road while a taxi driver gave a mean glare, but drove past with no voice. A few cars followed behind. I never owned a vehicle, or ever remember driving one. They felt familiar like many other things and I’m sure I had encountered them before.
The Foundation never issued me a vehicle since they fear I won’t be able to remain focused with my condition. I felt slightly offended, but they’re probably correct. My own mind constantly wanders and pushes reality in the background. I wasn’t sure why my mind constantly seeks comfort in my own thoughts. My mind was almost like a labyrinth of a library, my own soul constantly searching amongst the scripts, only for it to be the same copy. It’s the variants or strange thoughts that I come across that keep me on searching for more.
The facility came quicker than expected and it felt as if my body was moving while I fell into unconsciousness. I had no recollection of even walking the entire trip, but I was too busy thinking to myself to realize the journey.
The building looked much more modern and advanced than the surrounding structures. The walls were lined with a white brick-like stone that staggered in a consistent pattern. Large open windows gazed above and showed the majority of the floors. Large complexes and structures sprouted off the main building like growths and only added to the architecture.
The building itself wasn’t as tall as most other towers, but the facility seemed to be very large. A huge lot was located South of the building with multiple loading docks and branded vehicles. Most are of an issue I had yet to identify, but they don’t look like regular street vehicles either. Most looked like vans and small ambulances that were painted in white with the Scepter logo printed across the side. I looked up towards the roof to find many lights positioned on the corners along with multiple heli-pad rails.
There were a few military based vehicles that were mostly coated black with some white insignias along the armored hull. They don’t appear to carry any weapons, but looked like heavy transports of some sort. The armored vehicles took my attention. The idea of even armored vehicles such as those confused me even more. If this was just a rehabilitation center, they wouldn’t need machines that added to the environment of a containment compound more than a hospital. It was quite worrisome to have such force on a place such as this.
I approached the front doors and almost cowered when the logo was presented on a large digital screen in the front of the entrance. The symbol, ordinary like many others, had a much deeper meaning. Something almost menacingly. I quickly averted my eyes from the logo as though it had once been an ally, but now a foe. A traitorous image in my mind, only I had no memory of this feeling.
I stepped inside of the facility to notice a huge open lobby with many guests and employees walking about. On the end of the room, a huge painting of the logo and a row of subtitles were mounted on the wall, but too far to read. I gazed upon a painting of a figure. Nathan Oursler. The 5th Overseer of the Scepter Foundation. There was a summary below his image, but I skipped over it.
I came across a series of chairs and benches which lined a majority of the room. The front receptionist was near a pair of sliding doors, just next to the mounted logo. The entire place seemed quite busy and somewhat peaceful. A patient could be heard screaming across the facility which set my nerves off and sent a chill down my spine. I don’t have the slightest clue what this place was originally meant for or what happens to severe patients. I have been here many times, but each time almost feels like its own adventure. The very dread that looms over this place is enough to cause paranoia in the easiest of people.
“Mr. Beckett. Dr. Nathaniel will be waiting for you in room 203.” The receptionist answered as I accidentally walked into view.
“Oh, thank you.” I quickly replied as I noticed the large door slide into the wall revealing a hallway. A nurse showed herself and escorted me through the door. The inside was pretty grand with high furnished areas. We walked down the hall and past the cafeteria, probably one of the largest I remember seeing. The chairs and tables were lined up in rows, many were occupied by personnel taking their lunch or by patients accompanied by nurses. As we continued on through the vast maze, many patients, doctors and nurses had scattered throughout the many connecting hallways and rooms. The screaming in the distance started to die down as we progressed further into the structure. The white walls, with an unusual blue line across the midsection, stretched along every hall, along with a vast amount of doors, benches, and lively plants to raise the mood.
I know I have been in the facility countless times, it always gives a feeling of gloom, but I also feel some comfort from it. It almost feels like I had some connection to a facility similar to this.
“Here we are Mr. Beckett, Dr. Nathaniel is waiting for you inside.” The nurse opened the door and directed me in as I approached a large office. Various medical devices were around the room as a large desk stood fixed to the back left with a person typing away on a keyboard to a monitor.
“Mr. Beckett. Take a seat.” He took a quick glance over to verify and resumed pulling up a document on his computer. I sat down on a chair located right before his desk. I waited for what must have been just a few minutes, but then felt much longer. The typing on the keyboard seemed to be a rhythmic beat that soon felt painful to hear the constant stops and pauses in between sentences. Each key almost seemed like that of a piano, like each one had a different tone. Each new key that was pressed felt immediately different and after a minute of the sounds, I could almost make out each sentence he was typing.
“So, how have you been since our last session?” He finally asked as he continued tapping away at the keys. He rested his hand on the mouse and slid it around. Upon clicking, there was a light of a new document reflecting off his glasses.
“I’ve been doing better. I still struggle keeping my focus, but for the most part, I have been good.” I tried thinking of my condition since the last session. My condition never grew better and I still struggle with not remembering my past. A huge gap in my mind had been torn and it’s constantly eating away at my consciousness, urging me to bring back any sort of scene or memory that was once my own. The only thing is there’s nothing to remember. Almost like a bottomless chasm, constantly filling it with time and attention, only for it to remain deeper.
“That’s good to hear, are you ready to get started?” He asked as I gently nodded. Dr. Nathaniel has always been good at helping me keep my mind off the past and just focusing on myself, which almost seeing his face made me feel more solace. He was at least in his mid fifties with dark gray hair on either side of his balding head. Despite his age, his face lacked many details that proved his time other than the hair. He was always in the same snow colored lab coat every visit. The Scepter logo was printed across the left breast pocket. The very image of it made me want to cringe.
He felt like someone I used to know as if we had socialized frequently before my memory loss, but he explained we had never met before the incident. I don’t have any information or knowledge of my family or kin before the incident. In a way, Nathaniel felt like a guardian figure to me. Whenever I would suffer from my further condition, I would always seek him out for help. He never once delayed any sessions or called off even on my unexpected arrivals.
“So, did you have any more of that reoccurring dream?” He asked as I gripped my notebook and gently held it out as it revealed the cover.
“Yeah, I’ve had the same vision most nights.” I met the coil binding into his hand. I never trusted anyone with such a sentimental relic of my being, but I always entrusted it in his care.
He flipped open the cover and thumbed through the pages until he met with the recent logs, glanced over and continued typing, which appeared to be what I wrote down. I was anxious when he gazed about the pages and even ran his finger over some of the lines as if summarizing.
“It’s the same vision of you running through the forest at night. Being shot at by men dressed in a white armor?” He read as I only nodded in agreement. “What I don’t understand is how you describe your comfort in darkness. You seem to greatly describe the setting more frequently in our last few visits. Would you mind elaborating more on that?”
I was then puzzled as I had not even noticed that detail of my dreams. As I ran through the night lit forest, I felt quite empowered as if nothing could harm me. The darkness had enveloped me in the dreams. In the absence of light, my very faded memories didn’t bother me. Even when nighttime fell, I felt something surging within me, but I had no clue as to what.
“I’m not entirely sure. I just feel a sense of relief from it. It’s something like, well…” I stuttered, “I can’t really explain it.”
“Well try your best to explain it, Beckett. Any information you can give me.”
I paused for a moment as I recollected my thoughts. “So, it almost feels like I’m empowered in the dream. I’m not sure if it’s supposed to represent a feeling I once had, but everytime the dream occurred, I feel as if nothing in that dream can harm me.”
Dr. Nathaniel nodded as he continued typing my response on the computer. “Alright, do you have any more ideas or clues on why these soldiers would be attacking you in this dream?” He explained. For a moment, it felt as if he already knew what alignment the soldiers were. They looked very familiar and I can almost map out the details very clearly from the visions, but I don’t have a direct remembrance of ever encountering any of them in person. I remember him asking before, in previous sessions.
“I could not say. I still can’t recognize any of them.”
“I figured you wouldn’t. Can you at least detail their armor one more time, details, weapons, anything you can remember from these dreams?”
I suddenly paused for what felt like minutes before giving my answer. I explained they were all dressed in a white armor with red insignias on the pauldrons and chest. Some of the details differ between soldiers. There were two soldiers in blue and I vaguely remember a soldier with yellow on their armor. I couldn’t explain what the color separation means or what ranks they must have been, but in the dream, they could have been anything.
I even continued to bring up a soldier that looked quite different than the rest. This one soon started appearing in my vision a few weeks ago and I hardly noticed its appearance. It was all black and was pretty difficult to make out, but it had red glowing eyes and features of some sort of android. The body shape was impossible for a human and seemed to have some abnormal aura about it. The body of the soldier was very narrow and had armor plates fixed around the major joints of the frame. The torso was slightly blocky with a large shield-like breastplate over the front. The head was too dark to see, but it looked like a dome, with the red optical mounted inside. The majority of the fine details were too blurry to make out, although there was a number or digit of some kind across it’s chest, but it was just a smudge in the vision. I don’t remember seeing him recently in my visions, but I suddenly started remembering his presence in past ones.
Dr. Nathaniel seemed to have typed out my response at the same speed as I was speaking. “Hmm.” He replied as if he seemed quite intrigued by my response.
“Can you remember any of these soldiers? What would it be if I were to say they were once your comrades?” He asked as my mind drew blank once again. I remembered a quick glance of a vision of myself looking down at my own body and witnessing the same armor. Only it was fabricated in black with orange insignias along with the title B-10 stretched across the breastplate. There was a long serial behind it, but the entire title didn’t appeal to me. Dr. Nathaniel immediately noticed that I remembered something.
As I remembered back, I tried focusing on the number and I mumbled B-10 aloud without realizing. The exact number itself didn’t make much sense, but the idea of having a number didn’t surprise me.
“Would the serial be B-10-342, perhaps?” He asked gently as I questioned in my mind how he knew every digit. I had no clue on the title itself, but like many other things, I recall something similar to it.
“I believe so, but I’m not so sure.”
“What does that mean to you? B-10-342?” Dr. Nathaniel seemed to have paused. For a moment, he waited hesitantly to reply, as if thinking for an answer.
I could only reply in silence as I had no clue what the number meant or who it was. I almost felt like an inmate or convict with such a number. Then again I’ve only been a number, just another broken digit in the code. Simply discarded away from society.
“That’s the same serial of the very man we are currently trying to catch, I’m not sure why you would be witnessing his perspective, but that could be one of the effects of his power.” He explained as I could only stare into the void in confusion.
What was he saying? “The very man we are trying to catch”? Who exactly is this person? Who’s trying to catch him? Why are they trying to catch him? I had too many questions about the subject that no amount of answers could probably ever solve.
Dr. Nathaniel looked more puzzled than I was. He must have seen my expression of trying to remember even the smallest glimpse of my past to remember anything at all.
“I guess it’s time I should explain your background a little bit. You are Jerold Beckett, commander of your SCU or Scepter Containment Units squadron. The 11th Recon Company of Site: 006. The very facility you are in now is a part of the Scepter Foundation which is a field operative containment facility that hunts, exposes, and contains anomalous threats. Surely you would know of this?”
Most of it didn’t feel new. The idea of a commander of some sort felt abnormal on its own. I could feel a slight speck of heat in the distance, as if my memories are still within me, but sealed behind an impenetrable force. Something was urging a feeling from the back of my memory, but nothing would surface. I know my ID was linked to the Scepter Foundation, but to be a commander of a militia squad didn’t sound like me. I buried my face into my hands as I tried taking the information in. Most people this news wouldn’t come as a surprise, but it almost felt like I was reliving my life for the first time again.
“If I was a commander, wouldn’t anyone from my company know what happened?” I asked as I suddenly realized that someone before must have seen something.
Dr. Nathaniel sighed as he laid his hands in his lap. “During that mission, or the incident. There were no survivors. You were the only one to make it alive.”
I saw it very inconvenient that the only person to have supposedly survived lost his memory on it. Many more questions started to overwhelm me once again as I tried remembering my squad mates or what even happened in the incident.
Dr. Nathaniel saw how distressed I was. “I guess we can continue next week or when you feel up to it. I know too many details can really wring a mind out. I don’t want to speak much of your history as I want you to remember for yourself.”
I gained more comfort with his words. I interpreted the information as pieces of a puzzle trying to fit back into a vast empty void in my mind, only the pieces didn’t fit. As if they weren’t mine.
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