Info
Inspired by the introduction of Wool by Hugh Howey. We miss you, sheriff Holston.
Written by Praetor3005 (Author page) for the Classic Writing Blitz!
Special thanks to LaundryFan_04,
DrAkimoto and
Greggita Mahayfaio for their feedback on the page!
Sun, the glorious sun.
It's been a while since I've seen true light.
Not the LED panels of the Concrete Bunker, not the candelabras of the Twisted Residence, real sunlight.
And the grass, the soft grass, verdant and idyllic!
I missed feeling enthusiastic. I missed feeling alive.
With joyous steps I gambol amongst the hills, overcome with the scent of a truthful nature.
It is a good day.
For hours, I walk below the deep blue sky, feeling truly free for the first time in ages.
Perhaps Daedos was forgiving. Perhaps it was magnanimous.
With a loud, deep clanking sound, my feet hit a white sphere, making me fall into the soft, gentle grass.
Bringing my head up to it, I recognize a skull. What human would be foolish enough to die here, in such a perfect world?
The thought gets a chuckle out of me. I laugh. Such a beautiful place!
The grass penetrates my skin, tickling my flesh. I am one with nature, truly immersed in paradise.
The colors flicker. Blue turns grey, green turns brown. Tiredness gets the better of me. I ran for a while, after all.
I deserve some sleep. Blissful sleep. Oh yes, this would feel great.
The grass keeps penetrating my body. It also feels overjoyed, more alive than ever.
I rest my eyes, perhaps for a second, perhaps forever.
I cannot feel the pain of my flesh cut open. Truly, this must be paradise.
. . .
C.L.I.P.P. Protocol for Level 165
As soon as you enter Level 165, make sure to put on a mask1 in order to avoid intoxication. If none is available, use a wet piece of clothing on your mouth and nose2. While the latter usually wouldn't filter normal harmful particles, it does prove mildly effective here, allowing you to focus on finding an exit as soon as possible.
SURVIVAL DIFFICULTY:
Class deadzone
- {$one}
- {$two}
- Difficult to Exit
Description
Photograph of hills in the Frontrooms. These are reminiscent of what wanderers might see Level 165 as without protection.
Level 165 is a lying bliss, a deceptive landscape preying on your naivety and desire for the verdant paradise it mimics.
The careless wanderer might take the view at face value: an endless expanse of bright green hills under a cloudless sky. Do not be fooled, however, for it is yet another trick of the Backrooms, another danger taking the form of a compelling landscape.
The Bliss
Cameras do not breathe. As such, they can capture the true form of Level 165.
The lie comes from the "grass", for it is only a dying vegetation, preying on the few food that enters the level. The illusion is created by the toxins it excretes, cursing the mind by bringing colors to a dead world. Covering your mouth and nose will reveal withering grass under a sunless grey sky, the true form of the level.
Liminal Echo did its surreal job again, evolving the "grass" to produce the blissful toxins, making wanderers oblivious to the real landscape. The more they breathe it, the more they wish to stay in what their brain and eyes could swear is a peaceful world.
Dehydration and starvation become a distant concern. Refusing to no-clip out of the level, the wanderer seals their fate and becomes no more than fodder for the plants to consume, extending the grim cycle.
The way this molecule is synthesized is unclear. Base Alpha botanist and explorer Olivia Bellerose says it best:
"The so-called "grass" itself is only a vector. It spreads, yet doesn't produce. Researching the soil isn't possible, as even the strongest masks are bound to malfunction over time. All we could study was the best way to filter it."
If you can smell the grass, you are in danger. Do not foolishly think your mask will be eternal: you might have more time, but it is still limited. Find an exit as soon as possible.
Entrances and Exits
Entrances
Entering Level 165 requires no effort. It's a sprawling landscape, clinging to many outdoor realms. Fields, forests, even greenhouses. If you smell the surreal scent of fresh grass, if you see the bright colors of the hills and sky, you have entered its domain. Be prepared.
Exits
Leaving the deadzone is easier said than done. Overcome with the toxins, you will fail in fighting the urge to stay. If you are protected, however, look for a landmark. It can be a road, it can be a barn; as long as it is a change in landscape, it can be used to escape.
. . .
Paradise. Yes, this really is paradise.
I rest within the earthly soil, truly being one with the nature around me.
I met other people, a cacophony of joyful voices echoing my own, inside a singular mind. Their presence makes the sun shine even brighter, and the grass smell even better.
Such a truthful bliss.
I see a figure walking above. A woman with black hair, her face hidden by some sort of gas mask. I recognize her shape, she visited this place some days ago already.
Why would she keep blocking herself from the delicious scents?
The woman crouches, looking at the green carpet below her. With the care of a surgeon, she extracts a small portion of the grass and dirt, putting it in a jar.
She's taking a fragment of this paradise again, but to what avail, when she can just stay here forever?
Her job done, she backs away slowly, without a second look. I stay puzzled at the illogical scene.
A thought presents itself to me. She looks like she cares about this place, just like I do. Perhaps she wants to share it with the others?
The soil makes the grass spread, whatever the world. It allows this perfect landscape to bloom across dimensions, spreading the dream of bright blue and green to other places. Surely, it is her goal.
Wherever her dimension is, I cannot wait for them all to discover the truthful bliss there.