<div></div><div title="Magnus" style="margin-top:2em"> The flow of time stops for none, least of all these budding adventurers. Reality turns and twists as the story continues exactly where it had last left off. Here in the depths of the enigmatic researcher&#39;s laboratory, leagues away from the reach of anyone familiar that might come to their rescue. What a strange yet wonderful place they beheld, Vladim&#39;s observatory kept as spotless as an operating room, dutifully tended to by at least six different robotic servitors kept busy rolling around and tending to their various tasks. The one that would lead the party inside however stops just short of a tall stairwell leading into what one might assume is the dome of their peculiar shelter. &quot;Sit.&quot; The machine instructs, its synthesized tone as blank and devoid of life as one might expect from one so artificed. Strangely enough, it was the only mobile device capable of using actual legs, all the others rolled around on wheels or treads. Given how strongly it resembled a dog, perhaps it held a special significance to the lab&#39;s owner? Who knows. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> Seems like they had two three-person benches to choose from, so Magnus merely takes his spot at the center of one, then leans forward with his elbows propped against his knees. Those feline eyes of his take in every detail of their surroundings. Spotless white tiled flooring and stone walls, adorned every which way with machinations of various purposes, wiring trailing and stretching all throughout the expansive chamber, display screens most of which turned off, where as the active ones seemed to show a cacophony of gibberish, at least so far as Magnus could understand. He didn&#39;t have a head for these sorts of things, after all. Above them meanwhile was a ceiling adorned with fluorescent lighting and the occasional vent gushing warm air to maintain a comfortable interior temperature. &quot;Gotta wonder where this guy gets his electricity from...&quot; The feline mutters under his breath, then simply bides for a while.</div> <div title="Yejian" style="margin-top:2em"> &quot;Solar, maybe?&quot; Yejian muses as she takes a seat next to Magnus, leaning her shield against her knees. &quot;High up in the mountains like this, with enough arrays you could probably charge enough batteries. Or maybe there&#39;s an underground spring being used. Who knows, I suppose, but him. At least it&#39;s warm.&quot; She leans back and yawns softly. &quot;I&#39;m surprised we came all this way just for conversation.&quot;</div> <div title="Moose" style="margin-top:2em">&quot;I dunno,&quot; Moose growls, taking a long draw on his cigar, &quot;Conversation can be worth a trip.&quot; He does not really elaborate as he eases himself fown onto an empty bench and blows a pair of smoke rings. &quot;Used to hike over a couple of mountain just to get to a spot where I could hear myself think without civilization butting in.&quot;</div> <div title="Hreit" style="margin-top:2em">Hreit did not sit, would not sit.  Looking around rather intently at every little thing.  The robotics&#39; locomotion, every flicker or motion on the screens.  A lot to take on as she tried to read everything she could from where she stood, at the very least standing next to the seating arrangement.  Doing so in order to stand generally still, in place.  Jittery and getting hyperactive at all of the things that are new to her.  Including things as simple as furnished walls with drapes or cloth.  Has always dealt with so very much less everywhere.  &quot;I can about guess where it comes from.&quot;  She manages while wrenching her hands together to help herself relax.  &quot;Something&#39;s making me uncomfortable here.&quot;  Shaking her head a bit to try clearing her vision of sparks wafting off several of the people there.  Just, it&#39;s not real.  Just getting confused again.</div> <div title="Randel" style="margin-top:2em">Randel walks with the group after cleaning off his boot of snow and dirt near the door, and follows the mechanical escort. While he was very familiar with this kind of setting, having seen many well equipped labs in Zephyr Tower, this one made him feel uncomfortable. Not only was this someone else&#39;s &#39;home&#39;, but it was a very well equipped base of operations. For a moment, his face let slip how concerned he was about being here as the awe of the place settled in, along with the gnawing feeling that his maintained nanite bubble might have to be turned off while among so much sensitive equipment. At the thought needing nanites, he pulls out his hipflask nanite container, setting it to a larger than normal amount, and takes a sip before putting it away. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>Being ever the curious one, the nanite researcher looks around and tries to see what is going on, finding it hard not to get a closer look at what screens are turned on. His nanite augmented mind takes in the flow of text like it was a picture, rather than a series of dense technical words. A worried look hits him again within a few seconds when comprehending some of it and says in a sober tone, &quot;Oh yeah, this is the right place...&quot; and ignores the topic about how the recluse scientist powers the place, distracted by something else on his mind. Though he is aware of what is going on, and when hearing Hreit talk about being unease, he says, &quot;I&#39;m sure we all are. Just try to keep cool, ok? We can do this.&quot; Finally he sits down beside Magnus on the same bench, but as close to the end as he can get to make sure he isn&#39;t crowding... and waits.</div> <div title="Crypto" style="margin-top:2em">Crypto sits down on the closest bench without a word while trying to warm up his extremities.  Shivering, he looks at each of the robots and in particular the only one that seems to have legs.  It only a laymen&#39;s understanding of science, Crypto is uncertain what each machine does.  All that can be certain is that this location wasn&#39;t chosen on a whim as no one accidentally just inhabits an observatory high up in the moutains, in the middle of nothing but ice and snow, with no resources to speak off.  All that can be done is to hurry up and wait.</div><div title="Magnus" style="margin-top:2em"> &quot;I&#39;m afraid you&#39;re both wrong on that!&quot; a voice remarks from somewhere. Above them? Nothing. To the left? Still nothing. The right? No... &quot;Down here.&quot; Is that... is that a hamster, a hamster in one of those transparent balls they love to roll around with? &quot;Sorry?&quot; Magnus blinks several times, looking a little taken aback. That was the same voice they&#39;d heard of the intercom. &quot;You&#39;re excused. One moment.&quot; The little thing, no bigger than ten inches tal, covered in snowy white fluffl, claps its paw-hands together and summons the canine-looking servitor from earlier. The device approaches, leans down and its head unfolds open into a cavity to match the hamster ball their strange host was encased in. Slipping into place, the little mutant&#39;s circular domicile locks into place and is lifted up, now fully in control of its quadrupedal mecha. &quot;There. That makes things easier. Now. Let me take a closer look at you. Yes, yes. If Zephyr are the ones that hired you to come after me, then they&#39;re getting desperate to sign on a bunch of misfits like you.&quot; His little finger rises and points directly at Magnus, his mecha&#39;s matching forelimb mimicking the motion immediately thereafter. &quot;You however I recognize. My favorite little troublemaker. Life hasn&#39;t been too kind to you, has it? You look TERRIBLE. Nice to see you anyway, dumb-dumb.&quot; <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> Magnus covers his face and groans quietly. &quot;How did I not recognize that voice and the name. Everyone, this is Professor Kozlov. He was... he was my physics professor from Clairmont University while I was attending four-something years ago.&quot; To which the hamster takes a deep bow and nods. &quot;The very same. I am unsirprised to know you never graduated either, dumb-dumb. But I suppose we all find our paths in life one way or another.&quot; The little mutant motions to take a seat, his robotic vehicle mimicking the motion and planting its hindquarters down. &quot;I know why you are here, as you have already guessed. Unfortunately, I have naught but bad news for all of you. Information that Zephyr would rather keep to themselves, if they&#39;re aware of it at all honestly. I wouldn&#39;t put it past them to have completely dropped the research in favor of whatever vanity project is due to push their competition down further into the mud. Before I say anything however, I need to know how much it is YOU all know. What has my thick-headed pupil told you thus far?&quot;</div> <div title="Yejian" style="margin-top:2em"> Yejian bumps Magnus playfully with her elbow, then turns her attention to the professor. She was the last person that would take someone lightly just because of their appearance. &quot;I&#39;ve got my information a little mixed up between what Magnus has said, what I&#39;ve found on my own, and what my mother told me. The gist of it is that increased supernatural contact begets more supernatural contact in turn. And not all of it is friendly. That which isn&#39;t friendly is rather resilient.&quot;</div> <div title="Moose" style="margin-top:2em">Moose scoots over close to the shivering Crypto and wraps an arm around the chilled human. The hairy deer is very warm. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>&quot;No offense,&quot; Professor Kozlov,&quot; he rumbles, &quot;But I&#39;ve never heard of you or your work. And I don&#39;t work for Zephyr. I&#39;m more of a life coach and counselor for people who need a little guidance in a new life.&quot; He pats the chilly human under his arm. &quot;I&#39;m just along to be a voice of reason and a helping hand.&quot; He takes a casual drag on his cigar and gives a rather lascivious grin, &quot;Or whatever else y&#39;all need.&quot;</div> <div title="Hreit" style="margin-top:2em">Hreit looks somewhat aghast and displeased when the robot&#39;s head splits, and the ball takes up a position within it&#39;s head.  Though it settles when she thinks of robotics.  Shaking her head, as it..  well it better not be an actual person.  Calming herself a moment and taking on a toothy smile, then blanking her face again.  &quot;The more stuff that isn&#39;t supposed to exist around, the more malleable the environment becomes..  Until they probably become one?  I dunno.  I&#39;m not a researcher..  Can only guess.&quot;  Her..  extra eyes stare back straight at the professor marking her point as she rubs at her right shoulder a bit.  And then gets quiet again.  Mumbling to herself.</div> <div title="Randel" style="margin-top:2em">For a moment, Randel&#39;s worry fads when seeing that the &#39;mad scientist&#39; is a cute hamster, clearly expecting something else entirely. The novelty of the scene quickly fads for the nanite form researcher, especially after looking over the small fluffy mutant and finding nothing of note, besides cuteness. With a smile, he says, &quot;A fellow P-Day survivor. Nice to meet you. And to get to the point, Magnus did introduce me to this problem, both by talking about it, and demonstrating it. Saying the issue is very disturbing is like saying P-Day was an annoyance, but I really have no other way to describe it. From what little I&#39;ve seen, it could overshadow the type of damage that P-Day inflicted upon the world. And I can&#39;t stand letting that happen.&quot; <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>The nanite researcher pause for a moment, as if considering something, and a sigh as he breaks out his Zephyr employee badge from his pocket. He shows it to the professor, it stating his name of &#39;Randel of Zephyr&#39; and that he works in the &#39;Psych Department&#39; and with the 6 picture portraits on it, saying with a bit of self-annoyance, &quot;On the topic of being honest, I just want to get this out of the way. I do work for them, and yes, they do own me, but I&#39;m here on my own. Zephyr didn&#39;t send me. As far as they know, I&#39;m out on some personal project in infection form research, which of course may or may not pan out.&quot; After Dr. Kozlov gets a good look, he quickly stuffs it away, clearly not proud about showing it.</div> <div title="Crypto" style="margin-top:2em">Crypto calmly looks at the Professor and says, &quot;I&#39;m no scientist so I only have a laymen&#39;s understanding about the supernatural, science, etc.  I understand that we were sent out here by the higher ups because they needed someone with understanding about these rifts(?) that open to another place with the purpose of closing them down before things get weird...er.  Crypto starts to warm up as he remains seated on one of the benches. He looks over the machinery that is used to house the researcher with mild curiosity. </div><div title="Magnus" style="margin-top:2em"> The rodent listens attentively, its little eyes darting from person to person, his features understandably still as those rounded ears simply soak in their answers. &quot;Now why would I feel disrespected? I do what I do to push the boundaries of science! Not for some shallow fame. Please, all you need to know about me is I am looking to step in where Zephyr have dropped the ball.&quot; His hand reaches out to knock on the wall of his hamster-orb from the inside. &quot;No pun intended.&quot; His eyes wander towards Yejian, a shallow nod following. &quot;Yes, but also no. Well... how do I put this that won&#39;t take hours to explain.&quot; his little hands wave around as he puts those brain wrinkles to use. &quot;It&#39;s not that each one&#39;s arrival makes it easier for the others to follow. That was just speculation from years gone-by. Rather consider the fabric of reality as just... that. Fabric. It&#39;s comprised of a specific material, uniform, smooth, sturdy, stainless, beeeauuuutiful and pure like satin. Oh, is that Regulation I sense? FANTASTIC! This will help.&quot; The rodent employs some illusion nanomagic of his own to present a visual representation of what he was referring to. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> From what everyone can see, they were treated to the visage of a long roll of cloth fabric dyed pure blue. &quot;This is essentially our reality. No rips, to loose threads, no imperfections. Now let&#39;s add an otherworldly force.&quot; They&#39;d see a tiny rip appear in the fabric. &quot;RIP! Now there&#39;s a hole, empty space for the otherworldly to occupy. Boop!&quot; the small tear in the cloth fills and re-seals with a different kind of cloth, leaving a permanent mark. The image then zooms all the way out. &quot;Inconsequential. Our realm hardly noticed... but OH NO!&quot; another tear appears, patched the same way... then two more, then three more, five, seven, ten... and before long the one smooth and flawless cloth becomes quite visibly riddled, pulled, and worn from the repeated damage dealt to it. &quot;And more, and more, and more until our reality loses its structural integrity as a whole. The more patches our realm has to deal with, the less its structural integrity in a manner of speaking. Until...&quot; the illusory presentation zooms all the way in on one specific spot. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> The place where the most little patched discrepancies were concentrated. Zooming in closer still, they&#39;d bare witness to the threads, now unevenly subject to stress, start to split apart and form tiny little holes. &quot;These my friends, are extraplanar tears. Thankfully they close up on their own from my observations.&quot; he&#39;d wave a hand and adjust the image such the tiny broken strands slowly re-close on their own, however when they do, others break apart and follow suite, the process repeating such the cloth never really remains perfectly still and devoid of imperfections. &quot;In the simplest way expressed, this is what&#39;s happening. The more things not of our reality plop down here and disturb our roll of &#39;fabric&#39;...&quot; huge airquotes around the word are mimed &quot;...the more tiny imperfections spawn between them. Some are large enough to cause troubles, and permit opportunistic things not of our world IN. Things are only going to get worse the more of these so-called &#39;gods&#39; are invoked. More gods, more discrepancies, more tears, more instability. Am I making sense to you? Or would you rather I break out the mathematics? I am sure dumb-dumb would love another lesson.&quot; he shoots Magnus one of those smug looks. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>The illusion terminates, and he addresses the others promptly, &quot;I appreciate the honesty, all of you.&quot; His eyes turn towards Randel, a faint look of disdain on his features. &quot;Yes, uh... well, best of luck with your delving in psychology and what not. Can&#39;t say that&#39;s really ever been too... significant in my own pursuits however.&quot; Turning towards Crpyto, his little head nods, then casts a look at Hreit as well. &quot;Today I will supply you with what you&#39;ll need to know to close these rifts. I&#39;ve done it. I AM A GENIUS!&quot; He declares loudly, though in person it more accurately can be described as &#39;declares squeakily&#39;. &quot;Before we get to that however, I&#39;ll take questions if you have any. It doesn&#39;t matter if you are unfamiliar with the subject matter. Information is its own merit regardless of relevance.&quot; </div> <div title="Yejian" style="margin-top:2em"> Yejian leans forward, rubbing her chin as watches the display. &quot;I see. I get it well enough. I am curious as to how we close it, certainly, but I&#39;d also like to know how this mirrors on the other planes, as a matter of... Well, curiosity. This is more of my mom&#39;s field of expertise, admittedly, but... I digress. To the point, it makes our world less stable, but what about theirs?&quot;</div> <div title="Moose" style="margin-top:2em">Moose shakes his head. &quot;No questions here, Professor,&quot; he says, taking another drag on his cigar, &quot;Not unless you need to talk about YOUR needs. I&#39;m no fancy psych doctor like Randel there, but I&#39;m a good listener.&quot; He blows a cloud of bluish smoke and grins as the doctor proclaims his own genius. There&#39;s some good, old fashioned crazy down in that little rodent.</div> <div title="Hreit" style="margin-top:2em">&quot;If everything was closed.  What happens to those who were only alive thanks to it all?&quot;  It sounded a bit dumb.  But she didn&#39;t know how to word something like that..  something so much more complex than what he&#39;d said, and more complex than she knew how to really ask even.  Though she didn&#39;t expect an answer.  Maybe just scoffing or something.  Straightening her stance again, as she&#39;d let her posture slip a bit until then.  Arms crossing as she waited on everything.</div> <div title="Randel" style="margin-top:2em">There is a profound relief on Randel&#39;s face when not only is his comforting blanket of nanites is not only accepted by the genius hamster, but used to help with the presentation! Now in an upbeat mood, he watches the nanite generated presentation, getting a heavy nostalgia feeling of those Sci-Fi TV shows that did something similar when explaining things. Unfortunately the mood doesn&#39;t last long as the scope of the problem is explained, gradually feeling the weight of the situation as his mind works it out. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p>&quot;Psych work isn&#39;t all I do.&quot; the nanite researcher says quietly, feeling the sting of disdain from the small rodent, &quot;I also deal with the technical and biological aspects of nanites as well. ... The idea of another insanity causing apocalypse hitting the world, dwarfing the last one, gives me the creeps. The only question I have is about any documentation you can spare to give on the subject, possibly some info on what comes out of those tears in world boundaries. As I said, this is way out of my field of expertise, but I am a fast learner.&quot;</div><div title="Crypto" style="margin-top:2em">Crypto observers the illusion until the end before silently digesting the new information.  &quot;To use the same metaphor, repairing the cloth with something more suitable would still leave a structural weak point.  Does that imply that fixing these rifts would leave a point where the &quot;fabric&quot; of reality is weaker?  If so, would it also be possible for these points to reopen without some form of checks and maintenance? And before any of that, we would first have to remove this alternative patch and then replace it with something more suitable... but then what do we do with the old patch from this &quot;other&quot; reality?&quot; </div> <div title="Magnus" style="margin-top:2em"> The hamster listens to all of their questions, then points directly at Hreit and Crypto. &quot;Asking the real questions, here. Not all entities that cross over into our reality survive. This is true. Those who mete with a terrible fate as a result of these tears are sadly, just that... a sad statistic. And to answer the matter of mending these discrepancies. Well see that&#39;s the bad news. We can&#39;t mend them. Otherworldly entities patch them with their presence, but the actual tears that we will be addressing are not something we can deal with permanently. Only temporarily, again and again to ensure nothing really comes through and causes damage.&quot; He then sits up, much the same does his robotic body. &quot;Now then. I believe all other answers will be provided, but a demonstration is most forthcoming. If you&#39;ll all follow me.&quot; <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> He leads the group down a set of stairs situated beneath those leading upwards into his station, down into the belly of his laboratory where a large observation chamber had been set up. Sure enough, just there within its insulated confines, a familiar sight resides. &quot;There she is... This is a small one, too small for anything to crawl through, but I have been keeping her open with a steady flow of gamma radiation.&quot; His hand gestures to the three individual rods blasting a dim blue light directly into the tear&#39;s depths. &quot;Been using this to study it, built this whole chamber around it as a matter of fact. Now however, I believe it&#39;s time to seal it shut. Ladies and gentlemen. I need a volunteer.&quot; He&#39;d cross his arms behind his back, then look among the rest of the team. <p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p><p style="height:0.5em;margin:0"></p> Magnus speaks up. &quot;I&#39;ve already had my share of experience with these. Might be best that someone else gets this hands-on experience. Assuming this is safe.&quot; to which Kozlov answers &quot;Nothing is truly safe, dumb-dumb. Now, show of hands.&quot; He&#39;d invite once more, eyes darting among those present in the room. &quot;T&#39;is not a difficult task, nor one that requires a great deal of knowledge either. I would simply need someone brave and perhaps of sound mind and body. I am sure dumb-dumb has made it abundantly clear by now that this kind of work necessitates proper health.&quot;</div> <div title="Yejian" style="margin-top:2em"> Eyeing the tear with some mild concern, Yejian quickly puts out of mind that her question went unanswered. &quot;Well... I&#39;ve got bravery in spades, and my mind is iron clad. If all you need is someone fit and durable for the task, I would be ready and able. I need to learn how to deal with these, anyway, true enough.&quot;</div> <div title="Moose" style="margin-top:2em">Moose shrugs and taps ash from his cigar. &quot;I can do it,&quot; he says, stepping up and flexing an arm, &quot;I&#39;m about as healthy as they come, and I&#39;m not good for much else around here. Just tell me what to do.&quot;</div> <div title="Hreit" style="margin-top:2em">Hreit had little to do, and although she&#39;d been pointed to and noted, it seems on the front of her question, he didn&#39;t know.  Or had misunderstood her, and had thought he&#39;d answered her.  It didn&#39;t matter though.  As she followed, eying everything around.  But she stayed quiet when their host asked for volunteers.  It, might be a bad idea for her to get anywhere near it.  And yet, she steps aside the moment she looks.  Staring at a number of tubes and materials sorted to the side.  Though she doesn&#39;t touch anything, yet.  Just reading any labels on everything for now.  Hands at her side.  Tight, even as her fingers itch a bit.  She doesn&#39;t even care if anybody can see her.  She&#39;s not doing anything, or even touching after all.</div> <div title="Randel" style="margin-top:2em">Randel follows he otherworld researcher up the stairs and pauses in place when seeing the, like prey freezing in place when spotting a predator. He remembers the last time he was near one of those, and how sickening it was to be near, on top of how disquieting it was. The talk of it being held open by gamma ray bombardment doesn&#39;t help his concern, but he doesn&#39;t let that show. He steels himself, his face getting a bit of disdain for the rift, and says raising his hand, &quot;I can. Have to learn eventually. Can&#39;t simply shy away because it fucks with one&#39;s nanites.&quot;</div> <div title="Crypto" style="margin-top:2em">Crypto&#39;s brow wrinked at the new complication.  He walked with the group seeing that there has to be a solution considering that this guy isn&#39;t put off by the inability to &quot;repair&quot; the rifts. As the group stops at this display, Crypto says, &quot;I&#39;m my line of work, you have a small chance of reaching an old age by NOT taking unnecessary risks.  I imagine that doesn&#39;t sound heroic at all but I&#39;m no hero. I&#39;m just a simple man that&#39;s making his way through the wasteland.&quot;</div>