Level 42 - "a place of interest"

Level XXX is a place that has been discovered. (~1.8k words)

⚠️ Content Warnings ⤴

Info

Content Warnings: Deals with themes of infinity and identity loss

Word Count: ~1.8k

Additional Credits:
Thank you to exotichive for providing the initial edit of the Pier image
This page's visual style takes heavy inspiration from the Department of Deletions over on SCP, by Billith

SURVIVAL DIFFICULTY:

n/a

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NOTICE
The following page is incomplete and contains missing information and placeholder text. Edit access is restricted until further notice.

Description

Level XXX is a newly discovered level of the Backrooms, the extent of which has not been fully documented.

Level XXX is a flat, wide-open plain covered in dried grass and a number of large, tilted stone pillars. Each pillar is a rough, grey, amorphous mass, suspended in the air out of conventional reach. Movement of these structures has yet to be observed. The level is dimly lit in a uniform dull, violet tint with no central light source. No day/night cycle has been observed and its sky is of an indeterminate colour. Level XXX has no other known structures.

Level XXX is composed of a set of islands of various sizes atop extremely large, basalt spires overlooking an abyss. The otherwise uniform light abruptly terminates partway down from the islands, with true depth unable to be discerned. Occasionally, the spires themselves may terminate above the line of visibility, though appear to be unaffected by gravity. Level XXX has no floor.

Level XXX is housed in a circular crater of large though indeterminate size. Along its edge are a set of uneven mountain ranges of unknown composition. This border is not uniform, with large valley-like splits occasionally along its perimeter. Small, bright points of white light are visible at the lowest troughs. Level XXX has no skyline.

Level XXX is surrounded by a vast, iridescent ocean of viscous, black liquid. Along its surface, ridges rise and sink at irregular intervals, forming depressions. These depressions may eventually sink further, forming large, conjoining whirlpools; cessation of this activity has yet to be observed. Level XXX has all other known structures.

Level XXX's sky will initially appear to house no celestial objects. An exceptionally large, spherical mass of unclear nature sits extremely close to the ground and takes up roughly half of the celestial hemisphere.¹ Surface topography is uneven, though do not follow patterns of conventional geological structures. These features change over time, eventually being subject to pareidolia. The significance of the object is unknown.

Level XXX's air is filled with a number of small, irregularly-shaped particles. They are translucent grey and emerge from the ground, floating upwards. No deviation from this behaviour has been observed.²

Level XXX's area is filled with a set of irregularly-shaped beings. They do not originate from the level, yet occupy its space. They emerge from unseen, infinitesimal corners and yet their presence is part of the level's composite.

Level XXX is a consistent space filled with indeterminate matter and fluid. Level XXX is familiar despite its recency. Level XXX is foreign despite history. Level XXX is a place that has a description. Level XXX is a place that can be documented. Level XXX is a place that can be determined.

Level XXX is a place that has been discovered.

This is an unfinisheddraft. more text to be added

Level XXX houses several structures. They do not follow conventional laws of human architecture. They come in a range of sizes and appearances, though none are particularly notable. Their foundations are submerged under each other, stacking atop one another in a manner akin to the branching of trees.³ The ground appears difficult to tread on despite no outwardly noticeable features. Level XXX appears structurally distressed by them.

Their interiors will occasionally contain objects such as furniture. These follow outlines of commonly understood pieces, but are undefined in actual shape and use. Level XXX does not always have furniture. Level XXX does not always have notable interiors.

Level XXX presents a unilaterally extending forward area. It can be tread upon, similar to walls and fences. Level XXX may be empty, in a way.⁴

Level XXX is a foggy, black pier. Level XXX's outer edge is unclear.

Level XXX has no defined center of spheres.

Level XXX's ceilings are not here.

Level XXX is

.

No

No, this isn't right.

I shouldn't be here.

I think. yes, a mistake has been made somewhere.

This is just a mistake

I should go back to doing other things important things.
i should leave

there is a floor here. i dont know why its so warm and wet and soft
it feels so real like the skin on my fingertips when they stretch and scrape
i think something here is wrong thats. okay i can fix it somewhere i should fix it somewhere
i see myself in the floor and in the sky but i shouldnt know what that is but maybe here
i dont remember what this is
something is sharp here like a spine on paper grass stretches out until i can't see and it doesnt hurt its like the pillars in the sky but im not a pillar in the sky

there are things in front and when i look at them i see my face and i dont think theyre real but they are
a hill over there and the city smoke and a point forward and. maybe i
i think i know them all i think ive seen them all i can feel them in the tips of my hands and the eyes of my tongue and there are more of them and more and more and more inside
more floor more walls more rocks and spikes and clouds and teeth and it itches in my chest and my face i can taste the concrete feel the metal

tired cant sleep cant focus focus focus
i wake up and its me again but its not me and they tell me im not me
but im me and they told me im me but im not me

i dont know whats real

i think
i think i was supposed to be whole
somewhere down here
i dont feel like me

Black and white image of a dark, foggy pier with heavy noise

There is a pier.

Its piles are not its own and its floor is one of many, sinking into itself.

When one collapses, there is another. Always another. It is the same one. It is not a pier.

There is certainty here. Under the floorboards and over the sky, until all is what it is. And it is always more.

There are no eyes here. Sight does not look back towards itself. There is nothing to see here.

There is nothing wrong here. Nothing has meaningfully occurred.

+ View Attachment Entry-6D7973656C66.txt ?

- View Attachment Entry-6D7973656C66.txt ?

They say it's good to get my thoughts down.

I met someone today. I think I knew them from somewhere, somewhere. I don't remember. But they were familiar. A very specific kind of familiar, like a buzzing mosquito across little strands of hair. Can't place my finger on it.

Talked to them. Don't remember how long. Or about what exactly. About things scratching underneath my brain. About myself, maybe. Not a lot to talk about myself, like snapping twigs that you could kind of use but not really. They talked too, about things. Things about me. Or about them. I don't know if there was a difference, or if I could tell. But I felt compelled, like a gaping hole. Because I thought about some things, and I think, yes, I think something was missing. Something important, inside. That maybe I could reach if I pulled my hands forward until fingers stretched and tendons snapped. Do you know you're bleeding if you don't have nerves? Does the self have nerves? There was a familiar difference between us and it was weird it felt weird I don't think I liked it. Their voice was a whispered shout like my own on sandpaper. I think I noticed I was bleeding. I listened closely but I can't remember the words. But I remember how I felt. I felt cold and hot and empty and all the things that maybe could have should have would have been. And then I felt myself, which was weird and fuzzy and sharp inside like acid and alkaline. But something was different, different from them. They were different from me and I didn't know if I liked that. I don't know if I like that.

And then I looked at their face, and I don't know why I hadn't looked at it before. Or maybe I had and forgot. Or maybe I had and hated it. Or maybe I had and it looked too much like something I glossed over in my head because it was too close brushing against my cerebrum. But I looked at their face and then I looked at mine and then everything was off in all the wrong temperature and I kept thinking and thinking and thinking until it hurt and I couldn't see myself and

And then they started leaving. But I needed them. I needed me. So I followed them. Or some semblance of them, somewhere in my head. What's the difference.

I'm here now.

There's something. Under my feet. Like a puddle I can feel in my bones.

Extremely distorted and noisy image of a dark, foggy pier.

What makes a pier? This can and cannot be determined. That is not a distinct category. There is understanding.

A sea of dust coats the precipice of a barren hillside, each particulate a flurry amongst one another, every landing a scrape on new ground. Silence cakes the atmosphere. The hill will not notice. The hill cannot care.

There is a mirror, of shards and skin, filled with multicoloured, fractal stars. Every single one of them. They are blurry against the backdrop, against each other. There is no meaningful difference between them.

Level XXX is water. Water that floods into crevices and wounds, erodes oil and grime, until it is an ocean.

It is all an ocean.