Info
Getting your reality shattered must fucking suck.
Originally written by Oracuda, and subsequently rewritten by
Dr Bierre under the name of Level -5. Current version written by Boring Talking! OwO?
Other pages by me | |
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Levels | Level 2 | Level 4.4 | Level 11 | Level 13 | Level 19 | Level 22 | Level 25 | Level 38 | Level 41 | Level 74 | Level 82 | Level 100 | Level 106 | Level 108 | Level 111 | Level 120 | Level 134 | Level 145 | Level 174 | Level 179 | Level 185 | Level 196 | Level 206 | Level 208 | Level 320 | Level 368 | Level 369 | Level 370 | Level 371 | Level 409 | Level 421 | Level 427 | Level 445 | Level 511 | Level 557 | Level 587 | Level 600 | Level 602 | Level 603 | Level 605 | Level 606 | Level 607 | Level 608 | Level 609 | Level 669 | Level 713 | Level 790 | Level 812 | Level 910 | Level 948 | Level 998 | Level 999 | Blue Channel | The Middlesorts | The Frontrooms | PA98 | |
Entities | Entity 1* | Entity 40 | Hypothetical Creator | |
Phenomena | Phenomenon 31 | |
Objects | Object 22 | |
Tales | A Late Letter to a Late Friend | Case Closed | J. Doe and His Night With Your Mom | Permission Overwritten | The War For Scene-01.1 | |
The playground | Click me! | |
SURVIVAL DIFFICULTY:
Class 0
Suddenly, one discoverers a path to elsewhere.
From pushing aside the snow inside the pillbox, one unearths a discovery.
Beneath is a trapdoor, with four large and circular holes on each corner.
The holes are comically sized, and almost shaped like boreholes for screws.
The crevices appear big enough to fit one's hand in and grab. Upon doing so, the door lifts, revealing a dark pit and accompanying ladder.

Level 557 - "Snowglobe"
So, you climb inside.
Description
Level 557 becomes incredibly dark, with only the sounds of the rusty ladder on one's own feet echoing in the hole. Gradually, the air feels less thick and weighty, and an individual's whole body will feel as though it's changing in weight. Gradually, however, one leaves this small and confined darkness, and emerges in a brand new space.
It is indoors, industrial, and filled with packed shelves that go on in all directions
At a glance, these shelves are filled with a certain odd, novelty item.
Rows upon rows of snowglobes, each one with a layer of snow inside it and possessing a singular landmark in their centers.
Walking down a random isle of shelves, you realise each landmark is unique to each globe.
Some of which you even begin to recognise
You notice specific things, such as:
After seeing countless recogniseable locations
You notice one more familiar than the others, a snowglobe with a simple, stone pillbox inside.
It's identical to the level you just came from.
A small pillbox, with snow settling around it
You glance at it in confusion, and pick it up.
As one does with all novelties of this kind, you give it a small shake, watching the snowfall around the plastic building inside.
As you watch, you begin to think, watching the large chunks of snow and glitter float inside the water encapsulated inside. You briefly imagine what it must be like inside it, as it must feel awfully similar to the level you just came from.
And then it hits you
Slowly, the snow globe gets put back on the shelf, and you step back from it, and shake a nearby snowglobe curiously. It acts differently, and instead of presenting falling snow, the dirt trail on its diorama changes to be wet as buildings sprout up on the glass.
Looking around you, at all of the snowglobes on shelves, things begin to click
To see reality from a grander, simpler scale, simplified and contextualised to nothing more than novelty items.
Perhaps the backrooms works in this simple way
Or, more likely, this is just a veil for seeing more than one is meant to. It may be a shield to block what one shouldn't see, or maybe without it one would see nothing, just invisible forces playing with the many realities of which we call home.
Whilst entertaining to see the Backrooms in a unique way, possibly in a way a deity would, the intrigue begins to fade after a while. From a narrow frame, things make sense, Level 557 is understood, and possibly even some other levels on top of that. However, some questions not only feel unimportant to you, but they don't even cross your mind.
Even in this odd state, having had reality's veneer stripped back, understanding everything you see is impossible.
If you took an insect, trapped it, and spilled it the knowledge humanity knows, it would do nothing more than just fly away once you gave it said secrets. Even if the information was made palatable to it, the fly would be unable to comprehend such knowledge, and it would simply move on with its life; flying elsewhere to complete a life it can understand.
Such a thing is experienced by any non-sentient life, and their existences go on as if nothing was told to them at all. Who's to say the same doesn't happen to us, perhaps almost everyday, and every instance of us blows over our heads without even picking it up. Stripping the paint only allows one to see so much of the raw material.