Captain's Journal:
Friday, August 21st Weather fine and clear, wind ESE, steady breeze, sea smoth. Midnight, less wind, and passing showers. At 1AM, light squalls with rain. Ending with a steady breeze and fine, clear weather.
I went out to sea one day with every member of my crew. We hadn't earned enough money from fishing, and the season was coming to an end. The fog grew thicker around the boat, and the sea was as still as the night sky. The visibility continued to deteriorate. There was no hint that such a situation would arise when I checked the weather forecasts. The stunning view of the Bermuda Islands was swiftly lost. Still, we had to continue sailing in hopes of catching something by the end of the day. At one point, something strange caught my attention: the fog cleared, but there was nothing in the area. The ocean stretched in every direction, and that was all we could see. We were alone; we shouldn’t have gone that far. We simply weren't able to call for help. I made the regrettable decision that we would somehow turn back. Since we were sailing straight, we decided to do a complete 180-degree turn in hopes of getting home that way. One of the sailors noticed that every compass was shattered, inexpicably. They couldn’t pinpoint north accurately since their needles were spinning in circles. A part of us believed that this was the end, and we lost faith. We had probably been reported missing by family members. We drifted toward the inevitable madness on the boundless sea. The water was unfit for human consumption, and rations were becoming limited. We struggled to sleep, and the time of day remained constant. One of the sailors called the whole crew at one point after spotting a large white cloud resembling a waterspout rising from the dreary fog. The ship continued to move ahead despite our attempts to halt it; we had no idea what it was. We began to feel a powerful wind dragging us toward the cloud. Suddenly, everything went white, and all I could see was that I was falling to the ground. It felt like I was dying. I felt terrible because I was unable to apologize to anyone I had previously harmed. The fog eventually changed color, and I once again saw my ship floating there with my crew. We were safe! The sea looked beautiful, and I could see how strange everything was—the houses on stilts all around us. I still question whether this Impaled Ocean was all just a dream.
What is this place?
Stilt houses usually differ from each other, but there are anomalies such as the one shown in the photo where several dozen identical structures appeared next to each other.
Somewhere deep in Level 7 lies one of its sublevels that is known by many names, such as the Impaled Ocean, the Sea of Million Houses, and the Stilt Sea. Various names for the Impaled Ocean originate from the many different locations and objects found within the level. No matter the name, one thing is certain: this world is a beautiful hellscape. Given its gigantic scale and anomalous properties, the Impaled Ocean is home to multiple entrances, various cultures, daring explorers, and aquatic creatures. Level 7.8 consists of an extensive body of saline water, broken only by wooden houses scattered over the calm surface with no discernible end.
The waters within Level 7.8 appear largely motionless, exhibiting minimal wave activity; however, a rich seafloor lies twenty meters below the surface, comprised of rocks, sands, various metals, and even corals. Additionally, there are holes of differing sizes that reach up to 12,000 meters deep, hiding their own secrets. The ocean is profound, and its inhabitants complicate long travels on the water, with the sole safe method of crossing the sea being by boat, although diving is also an acceptable option. Fortunately, there are deserted drifting vessels distributed across 7.8's surroundings; discovering them is nearly essential for survival. They appear in various sizes and stem from different periods; some are maintained in immaculate condition.
Most explorers prefer to avoid the sea due to a lack of confidence, choosing instead to spend their time navigating the wooden houses on the surface. These houses are structures of varying sizes, suspended above the water by stilts made of wood, metal, and concrete. They stand at various distances from each other, sometimes creating so-called stilt villages. On average, these villages contain only ten assorted structures, with some people choosing to move and begin a new life there over the saltwater. While both environments can prove dangerous, the sea is far more hazardous to explore compared to the cities themselves.
We came to understand that we were in a strange, unknown, and unexplainable place rather than our planet. Even though the crew and I were in despair, we continued to hope that our presence here was only temporary. We occasionally took a break to investigate and search for supplies in the structures that dominated the beach we had previously avoided. We packed as many of our necessities as we could because the houses were incredibly full of resources. We sometimes discovered odd or elaborate items. The older sailor found an unusual metal box with a metallic finish. It began to play music when touched in the right spot literal magic! It's like a portable concert, but only you can hear it. As we sailed ahead, we noticed that the water was extremely deep in some areas without homes, but we were not bothered by this. The serenity of the sea was unnatural; the only waves were those created by our ship, and the wind was barely enough to keep us moving. We were constantly looking ahead, contemplating our fate and what might await us there.
Locations
Large house on stilts found at sea by wanderers.
Stilt Houses are dispersed throughout the ethereal sea, providing many nomads with a safe haven where they can obtain the supplies they require to survive. Their size, appearance, and construction are thought to vary, yet all share a marine aesthetic from various regions to some extent. The best places to search are those supported by concrete columns, as they usually contain many important resources and are the safest. According to the locals, they emerge from the sea like flowers from the ground. This accounts for their self-renewal and the emergence of new ones in different locations.
As mentioned earlier, buildings on stilts often create so-called villages. Though more fragile, these are often connected by bridges made of the same materials as the stilts. The size of the village often dictates the types of buildings present, so smaller villages are less likely to have important establishments like shops. There are many dangers in stilt villages. Bridges may break, stilts may snap, and buildings may collapse. While all these can be avoided by being careful and observant, there are other unavoidable dangers, like Sea Walkers.
Some larger clusters of houses are inhabited by various groups of people. Entire generations have lived in the stilt villages, with the oldest documents dating back to the 1700s. Over time, they have forgotten where they came from. A majority of the people in the villages are not aware of Frontroom's existence at all and consider it their home. They are divided into dozens of cultures and tribes and often compete for supplies and items, despite occasional hostility between cultures, most tend to be peaceful and welcoming to travelers.
As white birds began to swoop over our heads, we realized we weren't alone in this place. Circling over us like vultures over carrion were these feathered birds. To gather fish that the gulls could likely eat, we set up nets. A while passed before anything happened. We were surprised by how successful it was; we caught more than fifty fish of various sizes and colors. We decided to keep the fish, though we were unsure if they were edible. It seemed like we could survive here forever.
Something odd caught one of our sailor's attention: a house shifting ever so slightly on the horizon. We chose to swim over to get a better look. It appeared to be filled from the inside out, and the closer we approached, the weirder it seemed. Its poles suddenly grew longer, making it at least three times taller than us. That's when we realized it was a living creature that had just awoken. We were in disbelief; we had never seen anything like it on Earth. We started swimming as far and as fast as we could, fearing the worst from this terrifying creature. Looking behind us at that place from a distance, I was able to see how creatures with long legs, somewhat similar to crabs, were diving deep, climbing up the houses on stilts, and piercing them from the inside. Then I understood: they wore them like shells to defend themselves. But from what? Maybe there is a real danger we are not aware of? To the great relief of our crew, it paid us no mind. Now we wanted to finally locate a spot to relax and think about our further plans.
Life In The Sea
Adult tropical fishes traveling through seas deep.
Seawalkers eternally traverse the seas with little rest.
Basic Spieces
We'll start with the fact that at Level 7.8, there are beings that aren't classified as entities due to the fact that they originate from the Frontrooms; for example, seagulls. These birds probably entered the Backrooms in a manner similar to humans and settled on the level. They build nests in stilt houses, even those on Seawalkers. Due to decades of breeding, the seagulls have become fully domesticated and are a primary source of eggs, meat, and feathers. The rest of the sea life resides in the many holes of the seafloor, with the larger ones housing entire ecosystems of marine life. In particular, the majority of the marine life presents non-anomalous characteristics, aside from their behavior. Given their average lifespan lasts over 90 years, they have a slow yet effective reproduction. An example of this is the local tropical fish, which most likely also have Frontroom roots. They lay their eggs two years after they are born. It is generally believed that, due to poor adaptation to what nature has provided them in Level 7.8, their species is slowing in evolution.
Seawalkers
The most distinctive entities residing within Level 7.8 are the Seawalkers. These large, four-legged giants constantly wander the endless seas. Their height can range from about 40m to 70m, which allows them to walk above the water's surface. Although their bodies are elongated and crab-like in appearance, with slimy gray skin, they have heads connected to legs, featuring distinctive white, empty eyes. They use the stilt houses at this level as a kind of shell, which they often replace. They do this by removing their armor and bending beneath it, placing their heads inside the building, and taking the house with them. Seawalkers are believed to wear houses due to the sensitivity of their skulls to sunlight. They only swap their shells when they become unsuitable to use as homes or are excessively transparent. These ocean giants typically remain in groups of a minimum of 3 members and seldom separate, with interactions among them being limited. The only deductions we can make are that there is consistently a minimum of one leader among them, with others following, and that they exchange food with one another.
All of them remain out of waters deeper than 20 meters; thus, their presence in a specific location indicates the water's depth. They are not aggressive toward humans and will feed on dead coral. Given that they might select your stilt house as their new shell, it is advised that you exercise caution around them. Observing their behavior can be a fascinating experience, but it is essential to respect their space and avoid disturbing their natural habitat.
Additional Note
Seawalkers are asexually reproductive, with each individual able to lay eggs that will subsequently hatch into new ones. This process has never been completely detailed due to its infrequency and the scarcity of their laid eggs. Right after they hatch, Seawalkers are fully self-sufficient. The youth always chooses whether they want to accompany their parent or not and frequently associates with groups of their contemporaries.
For an inconceivable period, we had been at sea. We didn't think it made sense to continue. The idea of not seeing our loved ones was something we had long since accepted. We had to halt somewhere—possibly forever—because our lovely ship could not travel indefinitely. We needed to be content with our current situation and our shared existence. At one point, a sizable cluster of variously colored stilt-built homes rose from the sea before us. This signaled to us that this was the place where we should settle and begin a new life. Though depressing, it offered us hope. What if there were other people here besides us? Who knows, perhaps we'll have bigger company in the future. The sun was shining brightly, and we had already begun to transfer our supplies from the ship to the house. I remembered then how we reloaded the goods to the port to sell them on the land of our former home. I miss it, we all miss it, but as sailors, we always appreciate what we have left. We were sitting around trying to name this place. I wasn't creative myself, but I came up with the name "The Grand Colony". Everyone laughed at me as I said it, yet they accepted it.
- Captain Andrew Railson somewhere in the year 1705.
Communities
No one remembers when the first community was founded. The history of civilization on the level dates back to around 1700. In the years that followed, many of them have since come. Excluding The Grand Colony, the following are the other growing communities residing within Level 7.8:
Kalag Institute Outpost "Leilah"
The Kalag Institute has been interested in the level since the 1960s because of its associations with death, not only related to marine life. They have set up a makeshift institute in one of the stilt villages that also functions as a hospital. On average, it houses up to 10 people and many Institute expeditions to Level 7 and its sublevels are made from there.
The native communities of Level 7.8 highly trusts their members, as it was they who managed to save many people from this level since the base's establishment.
Deepfallow Corsairs
This is a large group of mercenaries recruited by various organizations both on and off the level, capable of executing the most difficult tasks assigned to them on Level 7 and its sublevels. They live communally on a floating tanker and possess an extensive assortment of boats, weapons, electronic equipment, and fuel. All members of this group wear distinctive orange outfits and bandanas that they create themselves. They have one leader who is referred to as the Supreme Captain by the members. It is strongly advised not to approach or engage without the intend of joining them.
Entrances
Those who enter the Impaled Ocean almost always do so willingly. Most embark on the mysterious vessels that roam other levels, but a rare few are simply confronted by the bright sun and blue water in a way they cannot quite recall afterward. Some even swear it poured into their dreams long before their arrival. The easiest way to do this is from the depths of Level 7.
Exits
Anything could be hidden in the distant waves: rifts to other realities, ships of incomprehensible size, silent mirages of traffic lights on the horizon, and bright clouds that flutters with the wind. We have no defined courses, no maps to guide us, so we must make them. There is peril in being the spearhead of those voyages, but it is a noble pursuit.