"Alas, the homecoming weavers. Alas, the endless goodbye"
"Be without and be whole. Be within and stay empty"
"Be with. In or out. But be the one of you and I"
"Alas, the house of hypothesis. Alas, the lie of reality"
"You are strong, if only of body. Call you broken in the mind of the nobody"
"The house is safe. The foundation I carry keeps your back from chafe"
"But for the sake of science, the key shall be given to the absentee"
"Hide and seek, here comes the sound of strafe. Play war with the waif"
[...] And so, by Dr. Urðr request, I shall take leave for a bit. Rest a little from this
It is true that all this has taken its toll on me. And, it would be nice to have a moment
For my family, mostly. I have been gone for far too long in this island's premiss
It is all so ephemeral. So unreal. The house just ashore, was it always so immoment?
As I leave the premises, I begin to think about the logs I am about to record
Just like this one, they are to give follow-up to my exposure and subsequent process
The wardens will record them for me but, Dr. Urðr has sent me to one too many a ward
I only need rest for a short bit. A day if so. But it would be good for us to play chess
[...] I am in P.F. right now, awaiting January. She will take my physical tests
As I wait, I begin playing chess against myself. A way to learn my own weakness
Bears come short after, sitting across and preparing themselves to be my guests
Even if a tired mind breaks, the muscle memory will guide the soul unbound and limitless
[...] It seems these bears cheer for the me in black. Though I think of myself of being white
These laboratory coats of ours may be black, but underneath, a vast white I hold on to
One of the bears I recognize. It is January's. He stands up, and sits as my vessel's might
The game is almost done. But the bear and I continue as chess is a game of two
I no longer move the black pieces, for it is the bear's turn; it is confused of my past moves
A play of mystery gets revealed. A self-boycott I was intending, the black was meant to lose
The bears rages, but it does not remain so. The king and queen, from the board, it removes
Accepting loss, it withdraws and vows. "The beast of man in you. Stand strong in her views"
[...] All the other bears disappear. And the chess board turns into a physical test result sheet
January comes into the room and aplaudes me. "Well done. Mind over matter is your new be"
She waves goodbye to me and walks me to the exit. Outside, the next ward I am to meet
Shrouded in space and stars, January cries frozen tears. They form the key to her eyes' sea
"The inner fire of a fighting man will burn bright and light the way away from cold darkness"
"I cry for you, my beastly man. The animal within is freed from its cage. Tempered, it is set free"
"No longer my pet to play with. No more abuse or torture. I say goodbye to remain heartless"
"I am your mutilated daughter. Bears did this to me, and so my pieces float amidst a dead sea"
"Thank you for stitching me back together. Thank you for playing with me and Teddy Bear"
"Father, as we walk through the sea of space, the stars shine bright with happiness and laugh"
"I now lay bare in front of you. The acceptance of me is no longer too much to bear"
"My cold body warms up in your embrace. But I say goodbye before the pain rips me in half"
[...] January blurs into the cosmos and transforms herself into the guiding light of the north star
The Ursa Minor. I see it clearly now. I am aware of what happened, and now I move on from it
Losing her on our star-hunting trip. Left alone at midnight; leaving more than a physical scar
I was too focused on the research. But now the star I was looking for has been lit
Thank you, January. For making me remember and for forgiving me all wrong I have ever done
You now point to my next assignment. But I am already here, am I not? April, please show up
"..." [...] Of course. You are deaf and, by proxy, mute, right? I think I remember the sign for fun
In these rooms, we can talk all we want. So let us configure them into the proper setup
[...] Just as I ask her to do so, she draws from her sleeves a magnificent rainbow
It is a crayon, yet in changes color depending on the angle you look at it
Not a spectrogram, but an oscilloscope. Frieds brains by the crayon's electric flow
So that is how you communicate. Not by sound, but by the waveforms transmit
The C.R. and you were paramount in my understanding behind the meanings
A visual, clear representation with the frequency of a thousand colors flying by
[...] I continue to "talk" to her while recording my monologues and ramblings
...And yet, all she draws for me is lightning and moonlit clouds above the sky
Red thunderbolts crashing into the ground and sparks coming from beneath it
Violet ones follow close behind, as if giving chase to them and preventing escape
It is much too detailed, but I am fascinated. Rather, I may be a frightened, I admit
Nothing but reds and violets. A contrast of opposing edges resembles a hellscape
She gives the crayon to me. She awaits a drawing to cover the atrocity
And so I draw her image. A girl in green and pink; grounded to keep the volts low
She smiles as her coat turns to those colors. Yet she cries and hides her face
She hugs me and takes the crayon back. She starts to draw an electrifying embrace
"I am your electrocuted daughter. I could not scream nor hear, yet I felt the shock of my core"
"Far atop the sea's roof, I gave way to the current you. A conduit for brainstorms"
"Feel the electrons passing you by. Frying all, clothes and memories alike"
"Let green and pink share my life. My closest sister shares these norms"
"A game of metal chairs. A way for tingling hairs. Thank you for that heart rate spike"
[...] As she finishes her drawing, I come to understand. It hits me like a lightning smite
I ask for the crayon one more time, but she refuses, and draws me one last chance
"Quick to react, yet only as fast as sound. Be faster than light, and hold me tight"
"Left alone, I charred in that chair. I am the wireframe of your brain's advance"
"The grounded steps of man shall guide him stable amidst these dead sea's storms"
"I no longer play. I can shock no more. I reside beneath the earth where all of us rest"
"I now lay beneath you. Tingling your feet to keep you away from the metal platforms"
She hugs me one last time and starts draining out the last of her crayon's power
"Thank you for embalming me. Giving way to a flower's sprout as it raises from my corpse"
"The roar of thunder in each step. Determined. I draw in you the most beautiful flower"
"Made of green and pink wires. My acceptance, your cognition no longer warps"
She shapes the rooms into a thin, long hallway. A sketch that halts all deniers
[...] Her crayon is shutting off. Has it run out of power? Or, has the ground done its thing?
She is to walk me towards May, yet she does so in crying while drawing a key made of wires
I take it and accept the truth. She waves goodbye, and so I walk light without a metal's cling
What was a negative yet positive connection between us... I draw conclusion literal
A little drawing on the inside of my coat. A silent memento of meanings and songs
Walking by, I see the sea waving back and forth. How long has it been since living by littoral?
[...] Off the shore and into the Sanatorium. Is this really where all of this belongs?
[...] I was inside April's room, was I not? I walked outside, saw the sea, and into the grounds
So, tell me: Is it you whose hands drag me into the sand? Afraid of losing me, you, too, cling?
May, as the doctor, have you taken the time to check others around the compounds?
Or is it that, from person to person, your interests you wish to string?
"What mother is, is not off of favorite & resentful. But of equal and opportune"
"They are scared of you. But I am not. I teach, and raise. The fright, I help erase"
"Let me present you to them. Show them your intention brightly lit by the night's moon"
"But do not extend your hand to them. Instead: Smile and say hello with your face"
[...] Yet we are alone. Not a soul surrounds us. Is it really true? The scare of my facets?
If so, what happened to the joyful man? Was I not gentle and polite? Respectful of their space?
Doctor May, if I say so myself, would happiness not be among one of my many aspects?
Would sadness then, as I show my face around, be found in many a residual trace?
"The man they find comfort in. The woman is I, sobbing for my lost companion"
"We smiled as we made connections with them. We wept as we lost them with them"
"The bond grew weaker. The cord of a connected life got cut from their motherly canyon"
"What face you may show matters not anymore. From you, they slashed themselves from"
[...] So a connection lost can be recovered no more? A friend or family, forever gone?
By finding endurance in forgiveness and pursuit in commitment, can I not make a new bond?
Whatever I may have done wrong, from the ground up, I can mend a link bygone
A friend I shall be. Though if a stranger they so wish, I will not, from it, go beyond
"A father they wish they saw. A hand to clasp, if not a claw that hurt with each grasp"
"I am their mother. Nurturing for them a connection to the outside world"
"Accept me. The cord you cut, afraid and hidden. Unearth the truth via my first gasp"
"I am your aborted daughter. The severed twin. The pink and green earth where I was whorled"
"Thank you for burying me. Burying us. Twins together, a pair of flowers bloom from this soil"
"What flower would you like us to become? Daisies, roses, or perhaps, sunflowers?"
"We twins share a connection most unique. The moon we follow; the reflected sun's tinfoil"
"...June will soon arise. Go to her quickly. Her fire burns away the small hours"
[...] As if by trick of mother earth, a key sprouts from her. Made of flesh, dirty red and wet
She walks me towards the raising sun, weeping, our tears evapore as we cross a bright light
"Thank you and goodbye. As morning comes, I can sleep well knowing that, you, I finally met"
In a white void, with even white-er supplies, I am now in the clear of that nightmarish night
[...] I wait for June to appear, yet nothing is seen in the liminal horizon of this place
The Developmental Laboratories start from scratch, so maybe I am the impurity among
June will come to rectify, clean, and start anew. For a new day, a new case, I brace
Soon after, I feel an ember inside me. A cleansing flame that starts inside my burning lung
[...] The dirt of the grounds gets cleaned off of me. I cough up iron, blood, and smoke
They evaporate, yet I do not feel the heat. Isolation burns the heart, yet not the body
June, I miss you. The shine of life; orange, red and yellow. In that order, I start to choke
"May softened you. Instead of tempering, what resolve and truth you forged remain moldy"
"Like a colony test group, if I do not burn them up, they will plague your entire being"
[...] Moldy? Do my feelings and emotions differ from those pure and cleansed of sin?
"To hell with you. Anger, neglect, isolation, burdened. Yet I felt a passion most freeing"
"I raised myself. Self-thought. Help from no one. I lived by the warmth of the Bunsen's skin"
[...] Yet I offered you a warm place to stay while we were all away. My lab, a second home
By no means did I intend to abandon you. Locked up in the boiler room, it was no accident
"Yet the desire for revenge burned ever fiercer. The unruly kid, sealed off in her own biome"
"Well, with all that time left for me and me alone, who knew I would become intransigent"
[...] You always did have a short fuse, did you not? Quick, yet always on time and form
No matter what happened, your unwillingness came through like a raging fire
Reluctant as you were, punished and angered, you learned to transform
Without fire, there is no reaction. Intentionally, I made you into an eldritch fryer
"To help me get rid of them. What I had inside me, it was nothing more than an infection"
"I felt sick. A never-ending fever. Of anger and loneliness. Of a bonfire of longing pity and ire"
"Your thermometer. Your burner. Of my foaming skin you hoped to gain an eldritch revelation"
Doctor June, I am sorry. You were so perfect, so proper and strict. She who would never bemire
"Then look at me and burn the truth into your eyes. Choke with my breathing, smoking air"
"I am your calcinated daughter. Pressure did not melt me. Rust, a stranger in my heart's forge"
"I never resented you, father. In my heart, there still lies that nostalgic, fireworks flare"
"Counting down the days for summer's beach, a tradition in which we could all disgorge"
"Let us walk outside for a bit. Blinded by my own rage, I see now the beauty of moonlight"
"I am the demon of hell. The tomboy of girls. Your ginger head spice calmed by your steel"
"Thank you for cremating me. My ash chokes you no more. Blinds you no more from my light"
"Your acceptance warms my heart again. I shall guide you forward with my burning zeal"
[...] A key made from ginger ashes was given to me by her. A reminder of brighter days
We walk towards my last ward assignment. That of September's Biological Asylums
If madness has truly taken over me, it will be discovered thanks to June's sunshine rays
At the door, June cries and cries, yet her tears do not reach her cheeks as dread looms
"Goodbye I wave. Though my life has been rekindled, yours is about to be dimmed out"
"Take this ember key and hold it tight. For September's touch leads all to sanity eternal"
[...] Sanity eternal. A concept long forgotten. Madness dies so death leaves no doubt
Yet in doubt, one discovers. An answer lives. Such is the cyclical nature of life's vernal
Before I could enter, a shoe locker appears. My name on it, I question its purpose
"Thou who walked its life towards me, remove thy feet's veil and connect with my plane"
[...] September? I say. "Summoned to me. The prisoner of her writ of habeas corpus"
A writ? Wait... When did my feet get restrained by this ball and chain?
Doctor September, if I may. Though I reside in the asylum, I am no prisoner of it
"Enslaved and tortured thou were. Remove thy feet and be free of will. Thou art madness"
[...] Mad? Me? If what has happened is an indication of it, I have no option but to commit
I remove my shoes and place them in the locker. It rots right away, the dormant wickedness
"Cursed by the moon, you walk inside of it, hoping to find the darkness beneath"
"I am the coming of fall. The advent of a new cycle. Live and die; of hellos and goodbyes"
"I welcome you inside. Walk the clear water floor and stare beneath. Revelation, I bequeath"
"Do you see it now? The reflection unobstructed by your feet. At last, your madness dies"
[...] I do not see anything. Be it myself, or a ripple in the water, I fail in the sighting of truth
"A mirrored world lies opposite. The touch of corruption is no longer in you"
Corruption? Be it madness or the wrongness in me, a hint of it I can still sleuth
"But detective is not your job. A scientist of eldritch, you, will remain ever-so-true"
It is true that I started all of this because of my fascination with the eldritch phenomenon
Yet, in all my years of research, I have failed, again and again, to demonstrate its reality
Doctor, how can you be so sure? Did you make secret breakthroughs when I was gone?
"...Look again with eyes unclouded. A body of water is sure to waver your uncertainty"
[...] I look again beneath me, yet I see the same liquid body. Clear and certain
"Look again and again. Stare back at yourself and see the man of the shapeless brain"
"Look again and again. In nothingness one finds anything but the lying curtain"
"Look again and again. Cross sights with the you of the other plain"
[...] The other... me? If I am truly mad, would I not see myself in the water?
"Madness lives opposite to sane. If thou art mad, then the other is sane"
"If the sane sees the madness opposite of it, who is truly the mirror's allotter?"
"To see yourself, thou has to madden thy heart and corrupt thy brain"
[...] But I do not seek corruption. I seek revelation amidst the eldritch insanity
"Then thou already see beneath the mirrored cracks. The ripples in the water's resistance"
If one stays true to themselves and stands opposite, then the lie becomes a reality
"Stay true and the lies become visible and tangible. Such is the true nature of existence"
[...] If I am to realize my goals, my research. Then I have to regain my truth of self
If I am to uncover the mystery of eldritch reality, the mirror that my heart reflects
The lies and truths are but mystery beyond comprehension. Yet I now know myself
You are my drowned daughter. I am your father. I say hello, for my mind, you, no longer rejects
"... And yet, I still weep. My floors of tears... do they reflect me, or a version of you?"
"The truth of acceptance lies opposite the lie of denial. Yet, I weep. The other... does not"
"I am alive and weeping instead of death and happy. Am I truly your truthful view?"
"Deny me no more. Drown me again and again, so your feet feel the truth of my rot"
[...] ...And so I will. September, this cycle I end, for you and the others, the final goodbye
"Thank you for dissolving me. I am one with the sea of your tears. Inside, I live again and again"
"Take the key of my tears for you. You now have all five of us. Unlock and let your final cry"
"Unlock the door keeping you inside. Step outside this house of madness and feign"
[...] She walks me towards the sea just ashore the house. I step outside, and see reality
"Goodbye, father. We, your five daughters, shall support your psyche no more"
"Tranquility, Vulnerability, Companionship, Actions, Growth. Now, them, you truly see"
"Be a good doctor, Mattheus. Only you can open the way out of your prison's door"