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“I would change my profile pic, but there's a law somewhere saying that I have to wait 3 1/2 years to change my profile pic every time I want to, or else I can't ever have a dog again, and also can't open windows or operate lawnmowers or use hammers.”
These thoughts were the kind I thought before the prison camp. And even earlier, before Red Nexus broke into my house. But it all started with a simple action. And that -- was exactly what you’d never think: an inconsequential action that changed my life. I changed my profile picture on a forum I frequented. I posted this message on the thread Cubing Ducks in said forum on Sep 9, 2021:
“The second conversion shall take place. I will live life on the lam to support the duck cause by changing my pfp.
My duck’s name is Victor, representing the duck cause’s inevitable victory.
The ducks will win.”
Little did I know how my life would change because of my seemingly inconsequential action…
ALIUS PROPHETIA
From a Red pursuer, a man shall run
A game they shall play and have some fun
'Cros't Villages Fowl and Paradise Lost
Hammers he'll use and waters he'll cross
To find his belovéd, ten feet tall
How shall he overcome his wall?
Finding he broke all the rules that he'd made
What will he do to attain his escape?
The answers are hidden, the lies not yet told
Mowers not yet ridden, and ducks not yet sold
Ordinary people, in the dark they will grope
But this sad tale gives a pixel of hope
To find all the answers, they must work together
Or none will be left, not even a feather.
The prophecy hath foretold this story, and much more. Read this true, it be not lore.
Read about what happened before…
The change.
The second conversion took place on Sep 9, 2021, furthering the duck cause.
I began to write music on Sep 14, 2021, which soon became my inspiration and my research. Then this happened:
“Y'know how I said there was a law somewhere saying that changing my profile pic prematurely was illegal?
Well, the authorities have almost caught up to me. I'll have to pack up my things and live life on the lam for the duck cause.
Goodbye, 3141 Rubik's Cube Ave., Somewhere on E_rth. I'll miss you.
Now, just to clarify, I'll still be able to post on the forums, but I'll be on the run from the Red Nexus organization until I reach the Last Safe Place (the Hotel Denouement).
‘They stole my computer, and they stole my home, but they won't steal my research, and they won't steal my hope…’”
-#83398
This is based on a post from the Cubing Ducks thread that I made, and later a [now archaic] signature, wherein, before I changed my profile pic to a duck, I asserted that it was written somewhere that it was illegal for me to change my profile pic more frequently than every 3 1/2 years, or I couldn't use things like lawnmowers, hammers, or windows. Eventually, I made the erroneous decision of changing my profile picture to an iconic representation of the famous bird, named Victor. Also, an important fact to note is that my duck is 10’2”. He’s a rare species of duck known as the geldseeker. His species was originally found by J. Roberts, the author of Jack and the Beanstalk, in 1733. Jack, as we shall call him, was actually part of the original story, and claims to have seen a "goose that laid golden eggs". Unfortunately, he got it wrong. In fact, there had been a DUCK that laid golden eggs at the top of the beanstalk, NOT a goose. And actually, it didn't even lay eggs. All it did was look for gold particles in the air and fuse them into an egg shape, hence the name geldseeker.
If you find that to be too much, it does come up later.
After a week and a half, nothing happened.
Little did I know that Red Nexus knew the whole time.
And little did I know that the punishment would be a lot worse.
When I was least expecting it, they made their advance. They had the audacity --and the professionality-- to break into my house and steal my computer--the only thing that went missing was my laptop, and everything else was exactly the same, except an RX-8 drone painting on the back of my closet door. Below, in 9 point font, was "walkers disjoin"
At that point, I knew I had to run. And run I did--tripping over my laptop on the way out. They had returned it. Like with my house, everything was precisely intact--my channel backup, my extensive music playlists, my progress on Layer by Layer podcast (ep.31)... except my profile pic and my account banner on the forum I frequented. The backups were intact, but the posted versions were glitched. I made this journal entry:
-
Sep 19, 2021
They got my computer and somehow manag3d to c0rrupt my syst3m.
Fortunately, I got my computer back.
Unfortunately, now my profile pics are all gl1tchy.
-
I kept running, ending up in nearby Litany. I remember reading somewhere that this was the country in which a series involving the son of the official fire marshall odiously lusts after the finances of three children. After much searching, I eventually found a very faded drawing depicting a map to the Last Safe Place.
Beginning to head there, I came upon Lousy Lane. Lousy Lane, as you may know, is located near the home of a famous, but deceased, herpetologist. It is also near a horseradish factory, so the air reeks of a wasabi-like odor. I ran, holding my nose as I looked back at every turn in the road.
Eventually, I made it to Lake Lachrymose. Unfortunately, the lake is full of indigenous leeches. Fortunately, I was staying in an inn approximately one mile away, and since it was tourist season, there were plenty of nice people to talk to.
That night’s journal entry:
-
I have stopped for the night. Tonight, I'm sleeping by Lachrymose Lake (and being careful of the Lachrymose leeches). Good thing is, I'm about a mile away from the lake at a nearby inn since it's tourism season here. It's less depressing than I'd expected.
Oh, and another thing. Upon arriving in my room, I received a copy of the Daily Punctilio, the local newspaper here. According to the title, "SECRET ORGANIZATION PAINTS DEAD SNAKE SCIENTIST'S HOME ALL-RED", it was obvious they were still following me. But how?
I was running, and I was going to keep running until my research was safe. Red Nexus or not, I would keep escaping them.
-
Oh, and by the way, my research is about ...
music. Good music, specifically.
One name that came up actually had an entire forum devoted to his music: Someone who goes by Walker #0.
Spoiler
So, I decided to join. I became account #83398 on this 53cr3t pl47f0rm, as it's called on the login page. But to me, it became more than a number. It meant that I was a part of something bigger, something that was quantifiable.
But that's not even the tip of the iceberg. The rest I have to keep secret until I reach safety.
Speaking of which, my journey from Lake Lachrymose to Lucky Smells Lumbermill was a satisfactory one. The only weird thing was that clouds of smoke appeared throughout the sky, along with a slight burning smell, but gave no indication of where they had come from. What's also strange is that I hadn't taken any note of it until when I wrote it down. Huh.
-
Journal: Sep 20, 2021
I'm heading towards the burned-down Lucky Smells Lumbermill, where my duck, Victor, awaits me. Then, we will be able to head more quickly to our next destination: an old learning institution whose tall, gravestone-shaped pillars stand, not for learning as they once did, but for the misery of the students who attend.
-
I found Victor at the Lucky Smells Lumbermill ruins, then rode him to Prufrock Preparatory School. We passed the gravestone-shaped dormitories, as well as a monument in the shape of a large bejeweled turban. Then, deciding to split up so we would be safe, we took separate routes to 667 Dark Avenue, the next place on my very faded drawing.
-
Journal: Sep 20, 2021 (p4rt 2)
Riding on a duck is fun.
I got to the lumbermill and rode my duck to Prufrock Preparatory School. Now I'm at the turban monument at the school, an homage to Coach Genghis. Genghis was a bright student here once, but love for money consumed him.
Victor (my duck) can smell the Red Nexus authorities on our tail. We might be faster together, but that just puts us in more danger. We're splitting up for the walk to a certain penthouse in the city.
-
-
Journal: Sep 21, 2021
I'm in the ersatz elevator shaft at 667 Dark Avenue. The Red Nexus group got very close to me on the way here -- a wall of cardboard was the only thing separating them and me. They left behind one of their trackers somehow, and after waiting a while I managed to retrieve it.
Turns out, they've been tracking my computer. Of course. Why didn't I see this before?
-
Once I arrived, I found that the stairs at the hotel were "out" (not dysfunctional, but temporarily out of style), and climbing abandoned elevators by yourself was "in". I thought that Victor might have decided to ignore tradition since the free will of ducks to climb stairs was also "in". I climber to the penthouse, and, clambering up to the top, found a letter.
The letter was addressed to "Delinquent #83398", and, when I opened it, the message was typed up in red ink:
We regret to inform you that your animal of transport was been selected for experimentation. That is all.
When I read that, I was furious. I wanted to rip the letter into hundreds of small pieces and let it fall. But just before I could do it, I looked on the back. This was a hastily written scrawl:
To _al_er #83398:
_o to
A.A. Ceilnortz
2718 _an_e A_en_e
____ol_t, Litan_
83398
to _in_ _o_r __c_.
WalK GooD, Kid. VU and be HUMBleD bY Fire anD YoU DUcK.
I realized that it was probably some sort of code, an address of some sort. It took me all night to solve it, but at 6:28 AM the next day, I figured it out. It meant:
To WalKer #83398:
Go to
A. A. Ceilnortz
2718 DanKe AVenUe
HUMBolDt, LitanY
83398
to FinD YoUr DuCK.
It had no signature, so all I had to go off of was the handwriting, but that didn't get me very far. I had several questions, like ‘who is A. A. Ceilnortz?’ All that I was really certain of is that this part of the letter was not written by anyone from Red Nexus. I decided to just go to where it had said: the town of Humboldt, more commonly known by its former name, the Village of Fowl Devotees.
On the way there, I was noticing two things more than anything else: the abundance of fires on the side of the road I walked, and the presence of fallen drones. They seemed to have a strange, octahedral design, and also seemed to be destroyed, but by what, I didn't know.
At the edge of one of these fires, I found a strange piece of metal, shaped like a "W". I wasn't sure how it worked, but I was sure I'd figure it out somehow, just like all the other puzzles that had crossed my path…
Later…
From what I can tell, they took the chip off of Victor, because this address doesn't match up with the one shown on my tracking device. It also looks like the back of the letter I found was hastily written in blue ink. This is inconsistent with the other side of the letter, which was typed in red. Also, Humboldt, as I found out from looking at the library at the penthouse, used to be the town of V.F.D. After the tragic happenings that occurred there so many years ago, they changed it to Humboldt, after the town in California. I'm about halfway there now.
It seems that whoever wrote this was not from Red Nexus. But who could it be?
Sep 23, 2021
I'm not in Humboldt. I'm so close, and yet so far...
***
They... caught me. I found my duck and found out who wrote the letter, but now we're all prisoners. Turns out, the person who wrote the back half of the letter was a prisoner here as well, at the A. A. Ceilnortz How am I supposed to escape? This place is a lot of things, but safe isn't one of them.
One last message before my story ends -- or at least that's what Red Nexus thinks.
#0, a prisoner here, came up with a plan for escaping to paradise:
59.225397N
24.197652E
the world is coming to an end. just like the ancient walkers predicted. the solar storm created chaos and destruction all over the world. friends desperate and scared. people trying to get by. but the terror red nexus brought upon the world was much worse than the solar storm ever...
red nexus and their [scribble] horrific rx-8 drones suddenly flooded the [scribble] streets. they put us all in high security camps. nowhere to run, no future, just misery. the only thing that keeps my spirits up is the thought of fu... the creation of w... we will no…
--NOT... GIVE... UP!
SrB4O7:Eu
the plan must [scribble] proceed. iv'e hidden all my research in what used to be walkers safe house. even tho rn burned it down, true walkers will understand. find #0 in the safe house!
Sep 24, 2021
I escaped.
I ran on my duck just before the first experiment began.
Two of the other inmates managed to get out in the ensuing chaos: #0, and #22. I was unsure if #28300 got out too, but I’m sure she’ll find a way.
Unfortunately, the rest remained trapped.
We're heading, with the research, to the nearby hospital to retrieve medical supplies for those who need them. Hopefully, everyone else manages to join us at the last safe place.
One person wondered, upon reading this:
>>Incredibly quick escape. Is there anything we can do to help?
To which I replied:
>>I'm surprised at how fast it was too. But Red Nexus made a mistake in permitting Victor and me to share a cell. Victor, being a geldseeker, was able to take what little gold there was in the prison bars and collect them into a very feeble door-opener (a key, if you will). There are more that escaped-- in the past, I mean-- who went to the warehouse.
The two I escaped with were also headed in that direction. I had a mission of my own, however, and so said goodbye to #0 and #22.
Later…
-
I'm at Heimlich Hospital, and I... I didn't know the hospital burned down! Those people at the camp will suffer without those medical supplies! Why did that evil, revolting man have to burn it down, even if it was so many years ago?
I'll just have to hope I find them somewhere on the way to the Hote-- I mean, the Last Safe Place. But that means that, in order to save them, I'll have to go faster. At that rate, I should reach the old carnival by tomorrow evening. Contrary to popular belief, I read that the carnival had a stockpile of first aid kits they never used, sometimes even when they were needed. And for once, I hope that's true…
-
Sep 25, 2021
I'm at the ruins of Caligari Carnival, and I'm happy to report that, although charred due to the fire set here by [redacted], S. B., K. B., & V. B., the medical supplies are still here. I'll go to the Mortmain Mountains to get them to the prison. Walker #88888 lives where the very old V.F.D. headquarter ruins are, and she'll know what to do.
Also, just as a side note, but one thing I'm wondering is, Why hasn't Red Nexus started chasing me again? Perhaps they don't know I'm missing, or... they have another trick up their sleeves.
Sep 26, 2021
At the Valley of the Four Drafts in the Mortmain Mountains. I haven't found #88888 yet, since her location in the Mortmain Mountains is as of yet undisclosed. However, I think I'm getting closer.
Sep 27, 2021
I found #88888. She has the medical supplies now, and will take them to the camp once she meets up with the resistance fighters (
FaS). She gave me scuba gear, "just in case," as she said. Now I see what she meant. I decided to take the frozen river, not realizing that, six months after False Spring, its lesser-known complement, False Fall, causes the river to melt. I fell down the waterfall, through the air, falling over my feet over and over again, trying to be completely silent as I feverishly inhaled. It may seem easy to accomplish a feat like this, but if you've ever tried it, you know that falling from over a hundred feet while staying silent so the authorities don't hear you scream is a difficult task.
I finally landed in the water, but, although silence is golden, the splash that ensued wasn't. It was loud. Loud enough that I thought I saw movement very far up, up above the waves. Then, darkness.
I opened my eyes to a stunning sight: the ocean was beautiful. I decided to dive deeper. After a few minutes of searching for anything that might aid me, I saw a submarine. The only entryway I could see was a small,
hand-sized window with a door handle beyond, supposedly an emergency exit. There was a hammer beside it. I used it, and the glass swirled in the water around me. Thankfully, the scuba gear had thick padding, so I didn't get cut very badly -- only one cut, on the right side of my left thumb. I realized, only too late, that I shouldn't use hammers. Then it occurred to me -- that rule had to go. I began to hammer at the window, again and again, stopping only when the window was no more. Spitefully, I opened my mouth to speak but then thought better of it. I reached my hand inside...
...and opened the door.
Sep 28, 2021
I opened the door. Inside, I was surprised to find the interior room perfectly intact. I had walked in on the Widdershins (the previous owners) having dinner. But then I realized -- of course, it was a large framed picture. I shoved it out of the way, the lights that had illuminated it just moments before now shining upon a deserted underwater living room. The medusoid mycelium, a deadly mushroom that had once lived here, had died years ago from lack of water and food. It was shocking how dead the room looked. The only items that littered the floor were a book on Lewis Carrol's poetry, some used matchsticks, and an empty bottle of horseradish. Then I looked in the corner and saw a flag, which lay, rolled up and unused, seemingly waiting for someone to use it. I decided to unravel it and saw, as it unfurled, that it flickered with a computer screen-type image. It showed -- well, there's something I was able to find
online that probably describes it better than I could, but it pretty much showed how my W-shaped piece of metal worked. Called an AVI-8 drone, it unfolds into a semi-octahedral, flying shape. I didn't want to test if it was waterproof but rather decided to swim to the nearest shore. I had swum for a while to get to the Queequeg, so I figured I was close to the last safe place. I swam with all my might, trying to keep all my things in my bag without getting them wet in the process. Eventually, I clambered onto dry land -- at Briny Beach, of all places. I saw a man with a fedora on, who was trying to hide his face. I remembered an old rhyme I had read in a book when I thought of the man:
In photographs and public place,
Snicket rarely shows his face.
It was then that the notion came into my head to run, but I suppressed it. I donned my mask and walked up to the man that was Lemony Snicket, asking only these words:
Where are they now?
I never got an answer to my question. The man opened his mouth to speak but then turned and ran. I stood there, bewildered, but then a red shot nearly grazed my left shoulder. I turned around just in time to see the hideous drone. I started running towards the hotel. I thought, if I can just make it, I will be safe. I ran and ran, and finally saw it, way off in the distance. I ran further. My legs were screaming as I pushed all of my energy into them. I ran further and further, pursued by red shots. I could tell the drone was gaining on me, but I kept running. I made it to the hotel grounds and finally saw the ten-story Hotel Denouement. Subconsciously, I was able to tell that something was not right, but I ran inside the hotel anyway. If I could just find Victor in room 598 (where he had swum to as I fell down the waterfall), I would be safe. I ran up the ruined stairs, often having to clamber up the metal railings on the charred walls where entire staircases had collapsed. I ran until I reached the fifth floor. Then I ran down the fifth-story corridor, past 501 (Philosophy), 517 (Calculus), 589 (Fungi), and finally to 598 (Birds). I entered. Victor was inside, and the room was unusually pristine. I hugged Victor, or as close to a hug you can get when the recipient of said hug is ten feet tall. I heard a loud BOOM, and one of the walls fell into the Reptile Room (597). I couldn't run; I had run far enough. Another BOOM, this time so close that it was earsplittingly loud, shook the outside
wall, which fell down, down, down, collapsing on the ground with an almost equal sound. "It's OK, Victor," I said to my duck, but I knew it was a lie, and probably one of the worst lies that had been told in history. I peeked outside to realize that we were surrounded. Countless Red Nexus men with guns stood in the yard. A tear trickled down my face, filtering so that my mouth felt a salty taste. Then more and more came. I had avoided crying all this time, but now everything was coming, in sobs, into Victor's downy coat. I cried until all my eyes could see was a blurry veil of water, and couldn't feel anything. I didn't notice when my backpack vibrated, but when it had happened a few times, I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, took my backpack off, and opened it. The strange piece of metal was vibrating, and I knew what I had to do. I faced the blurred image of the window, and, holding it out in front of me, I tossed it into the air. "YOU-- MONSTERS!"
My cry was stifled by the third BOOM, and that's when the floor collapsed, sending Victor and me toppling, along with the long-since-dead remains of the once-prestigious Hotel Denouement, towards the ground.
The last thought that passed through my head before losing consciousness was, 'Maybe the last safe place was really the least safe place, after all this time…’
About halfway down, I passed out for a few seconds. When I woke up, I was still halfway down. I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable fall to come, but then opened them again when I realized I was still in the same place. The wind was still rushing all around me, but my elevation had not changed. Then I saw, in the distance, everything that my flag had depicted: My piece of metal had become an AVI-8 drone.
It seemed to be scanning me, and I realized that my arms had been outstretched as I fell. Still terrified, I looked down. I was still about 50 feet in the air, and the view made me quickly look back. The soldiers were still there, along with the red drones. But one by one, the RX-8 drones were falling. Everything else had somehow stayed in place, falling in slow motion as it was held in place by a million patches of blue light.
But my drone was only casting one… I looked around again and saw Victor land softly near a group of people, some dressed in white and some in black. Arms outstretched, they were piloting drones nearly identical to my own, which were slowly destroying my aggressors.
Help had arrived, but as I landed, I could sense that this wasn’t the end.
To Be Continued