There was a period of silence afterwards that may have very well 
lasted a century for as little as Cron could comprehend it. The single 
spinning servo sliding softly in his skull did little to maintain a sense 
of self, only keep the lights on. As its gentle hum wore on, Cron felt 
himself disassociate, and The Thing That Once Called Itself Cron 
Apostolou came apart from his body. It fell back into the darkness 
that surrounded it, watching its catatonic form getting further and 
further away, the dim light around it growing ever fainter until it might 
not have ever been there at all. 


In the quiet black, free from the whispers of the world it had 
departed from, this spirit stretched and yawned, flexing and bending 
as if to shake loose the joints that had grown stiff over time. This 
continued for a short while, as it primped and preened like a catina 
sunbeam, until it noticed a presence that crept up quickly and 
immediately filled all of the space around it. The spirit turned, and 
found itself gazing into the confused eyes of Anantashesha. 


"Hullo there," the spirit said idly. 


The Eel's face pinched slightly. "What are you doing down here?" 


The spirit leaned back slightly, trying and failing to take in the Eel in 
its entirety. "Relaxing. | think I've died." 


Anantashesha sniffed. "You're not dead. | could tell if you're dead." It 
looked around behind the spirit, and seeing nothing, said, "You're 
not supposed to be hanging around down here, you know. Not good 
for you." 


The spirit shrugged. "I don't know how | got here. | don't know how 
to get back where | came from." 


The Eel nodded slowly, and then its eyes grew wide. "Hang on one 
second. Don't | know you? You smell familiar. Have we met?" The 
spirit shook its head, and Anantashesha's brow furrowed. "No, no, | 
would swear on it. Did you die once? Are you some kind of lich?" 


The spirit shook its head again. "| don't know much about myself at 
all, honestly." 


The Eel nodded again. "How much exactly?" 
"Enough to be narratively interesting, | guess." 


"That's an odd answer," Anantashesha said, seconds before clarity 
dawned over its features. "That's it! | remember where | know you 
from. | pulled you out from inside me in exchange for a back 
scratcher." 


"That's gross." 


"Yes, yes, that's it. There was that queer little man who came down 
here in a diving suit looking for a soul. You were that soul, | have no 
doubts." Anantashesha smiled, pleased at itself. "How have you 
been?" 


"| mean, I'm here again," the spirit said, considering its words, "so | 
wouldn't say... super." 


“There are worse places, trust me," the Eel said, waving him off. 
"What have you been up to?" 


"Playing football." 


"Oh!" The Eel nodded. "I don't know what that is, but that's really 
great. I'm happy for you! Look what you've accomplished! Back in 
the living world and doing football! That's not half bad for somebody 
who died once." 


The spirit frowned. "You're a god, aren't you?" 
The Eel grew quiet. 
"Why can't | perform magic?" 


"Pfft," Anantashesha said. "Why in the world would you worry 
yourself about that?" 


"It's a thing humans can do, but | can't. Am | human? | feel human." 


The Eel shrugged. "Your soul is human. | don't know if your body is 
human. Either way, that doesn't matter. Plenty of things can create 
magic that aren't human. Have you ever looked at light spilling 
through trees in the early morning, or seen fog dance across a lake 
at dusk? | might just be waxing poetic, but trust me when | say it's a 
little naive to imply that magic is a strictly human endeavor." It 
paused. "No, your disconnect from magic is because you died." 


"| died?" 


"You don't remember it? Hrm. Likely not. Yes, you died once. Your 
soul was torn from your body and you found yourself here, with me, 
and went the way all souls go, into that quiet oblivion. Once you 
pass the Screamers, the connection between your soul and the 
arcane was severed, and that's basically the ball game with that 
one." 


The spirit's eyes grew dark, and its face downcast. Anantashesha 
grimaced. 


"Look, I'm not the one to be giving life advice, you understand? My 
whole jam is the meaninglessness of life, how little any of this 
matters when compared to the never-ending nothing that you find 
yourself in currently. So take this with a grain of salt when | say that, 
if you think your not being able to do magic makes you any less 
alive, or any less... human, | don't know. It doesn't. Your existence 


isn't made more or less important because you can conjure fire or 
fling sparks or anything like that. Your abilities don't make you, you. 
Hell, the things you call yourselves don't make any of you who you 
are. It doesn't matter if you're made of meat, or made of metal, or 
jelly, or what color you end up, or anything like that. This idea of 
identity is such a silly concept, because you're trying to use words to 
describe something that can't be described. Your innate you-ness. 
You get it? You're you, because you're you." 


The Eel leaned back and shrugged. "And yeah, someday you'll end 
up back down here and return to the Silence Beyond, but a thing 
isn't beautiful because it lasts." 


The spirit looked up. "Is that a reference to something?" 


Anantashesha waved it off. "Yeah, but you're going to miss that one. 
Look, just know that if you're getting caught up in some sort of 
emotional thing because you can't make magic happen, you 
shouldn't. Magic isn't something you do, it's something that happens 
to you. | imagine there are plenty of other souls out there that think 
that your very existence is pretty goddamn magical." 


They sat in silence for a moment, and then the spirit nodded. 
"Thanks. | feel better." 


The Eel nodded. "Good. Because | think you're about to wake up." 


The spirit squinted up at Anantashesha. "Am | going to remember 
any of this?" 


The Eel shrugged. "Probably not." 


And with that, something sharp grabbed the spirit by its back, and it 
was whisked upwards, away from the encompassing darkness and 
towards some minute light a lifetime away. 


"Bye! Have fun storming the castle!" The Eel snickered to itself. 
"Shit, he'll miss that one too." 


Cron Apostolou heard the sound of idle chatter first, as his auditory 
sensors hummed back to life. He felt the heart in his chest resume 


beating unimpeded, and his lungs filled with air he didn't need. Light 
crept into the corners of his eyes, and suddenly his vision was 
flooded with color as his ocular cells woke up. He opened them, 
slowly, and as his sight adjusted to the light in the room, he made 
out several familiar faces. His friend Yuri, Coach Demopolous the 
Offensive Coordinator, JaMarcus Aurelius, and a peculiar man with 
silver hair and large, black glasses. 


Cron blinked, and then blinked again. He stretched his arms and 
legs, feeling the hydraulic fluid coursing through his veins once 
again. He moved his jaw side to side, readjusting where it was 
supposed to sit on his face. Satisfied, he glanced around the room, 
where its various occupants stood staring at him, most of them white 
as a sheet. 


"You," Yuri said, cautiously, "you see?" 


Cron nodded, rubbing the back of his head. His hair was matted and 
he knew he looked filthy, but he felt good. 


"What happened?" he said, his voice jumping out to greet him. "Did 
we win?" 


JaMarcus smiled. "Yeah. Fake extra point. Coach Panagakos, 
Eldest and Most Revered, went for two. Walk off two-point 
conversion. The place is lit. They tore down the scoreboard. | heard 
they laid siege to Troy like, an hour ago." 


Cron smiled weakly. Regardless of what was about to happen, that 
was a small comfort. "How long have | been out?" 


"Three hours,” a voice said from the back of the room, the energy in 
it crackling like lightning. Out of the shadows appeared Coach 
Panagakos, Eldest and Most Revered, his face frozen in a grimace 
and his eyes burning behind dark sunglasses. "Weren't sure you 
were going to wake up. Figured I'd have you sent to the dump in the 
morning with the other broken trash." 


It was Cron's turn to grimace. He saw Yuri and JaMarcus’ faces 
grow ashen, and Coach Demopolous nearly faint. Curiously, the 
man with the silver hair seemed bemused. 


"|, uh, | guess, | should-" Cron began, but was immediately halted by 
a single crooked finger from the Head Ball Coach. 


"What you should do, right now, is shut the fuck up." His glare 
turned towards the other three members of the team. "You three, 
out. Practice on Monday. If you're late you'll soend a century on the 
Planet of Hands." 


With little more than a sharp gust of wind, the three men scampered 
out of the locker room, leaving only Cron, Coach Panagakos, and 
the man with the silver hair. Satisfied that the three were out of 
hearing range, the Head Coach turned to the silver haired man. 


“Alright, time's up. What the fuck is this.” 


The man nodded curtly. "This is an Andersopolis Automatronics 
Saker Model 9, a first-of-its-kind humanoid cyborg. Extremely 
advanced." 


Coach Panagakos, studied Cron for a moment. "What happened to 
it?" 


"Hydraulic lock, seems like," the man said. "The spear it caught 
pinched a hydraulic line, and when it pulled the spear out it lost 
hydraulic pressure and collapsed. Curious thing, that," the man said, 
the faintest hint of the idea of a smile creeping across his lips, "it has 
self-preservation protocols in place to keep it from doing something 
like that. Odd that it would be so easily able to override them to win 
a football game." 


Coach Panagakos sneered. "You're goddamn right." He turned back 
towards Cron, looking him up and down. "Who are you?" 


Cron's voice was suddenly very hoarse. "C-Cron, Apostolou." 


The Coach nodded. "Alright, Cron Apostolou. When were you going 
to tell me you were a robot?" 


"Cyborg," the silver-haired man interjected, an actual smile flashing 
over his face now. 


Cron shifted uncomfortably. "I, uh, well." Do you lie? Can you lie to a 


demigod? The goose is cooked, you need a way out of this. "| 
imagine it would've eventually... eventually come up." 


"Like fuck it would've." The Head Coach's voice snapped like a 
chain being broken. "You're meaning to tell me that you were going 
to wager the best chance this team has had at winning a 
championship in nearly one-hundred years on something that 
might've come up, eventually?’ 


Yes. "Yes." 


Coach Panagakos rubbed the bridge of his nose furiously. "Do you 
know why I'm so fucking pissed off at you right now, Cron?" 


Cron flinched at the sound of his own name. "Because I'm a-" 


Another finger, and more silence. "It's not because you're a 
goddamn fucking whirly-bird or wind-up or thingamajig or rooty- 
tooty-point-and-shooty. | don't care whether you're a robit or a troll or 
a lesbian dog or whatever the fuck you are. We have legitimate 
snake people in our secondary, Cron, you think for a minute that the 
thought of playing a robot-" 


"-cyborg," the man interjected again, 


"-what the fuck ever, you think that bothers me in the slightest?" 
Coach Panagakos sighed. "When | consigned my soul to the dark 
powers of the Hereafter and pledged allegiance to the Suffocating 
Horror, | did it with one goal in mind: win motherfucking football 
games at Alexylva. You think | gave two shits, while my soul was 
being shredded by the thousand-hooked arms of Malidramagiuan 
the Most High Horrific, of what it took to win those football games? 
You think that, when | was begging the Many-Eyed God of 
Punishment to be made whole again, the concern of putting a toy in 
at quarterback even so much as crossed my motherfucking mind?" 


He spat on the ground. "Because it didn't. I'm here to do two things, 
Cron. Win football games, and win fucking football games. | don't 
care about what some shitty newspaper has to say about humans 
and robots, the same as | don't give a rat's ass about what he'd 
have to say about the subtle and discrete pleasures of fucking a pig 


in the ass. And I'm shitty at you because you were selfish, and you 
nearly lost me a goddamn football game. If you ever so much as 
consider, in the faintest and most ethereal daydream, of ever doing 
that kind of shit ever again, | swear to the Darkness Below and 
Beyond that | will turn your still-beating heart into a bedpan and shit 
into your soul for the rest of your miserable, gasping, fetid existence. 
Are we clear?" 


Cron nodded. If he'd been capable, he would've pissed himself. 


Coach Panagakos nodded. "Good." He turned to leave. "Hell of a 
play there at the end, though. Really was something else. Good 
work." 


Cron coughed. "So... so are we good?" 


The Coach turned back towards him and shrugged. "You and me? 
Sure. But after that stunt you pulled tonight, we're being investigated 
by the NSCPAA Ethics Committee for playing a non-approved 
individual at quarterback, since robits are technically still against 
regulation." 


"Oh fuck," Cron said. 


"Yep. Fuck. And if you can't figure this shit out, and you still end up 
costing me the season, the carnival of red delights that will come to 
pass upon you will be such that no man for a thousand years will 

dare to so much as speak of them. So you two fucking figure it out." 


He left the room, leaving only Cron and the silver-haired man 
standing in the silent locker room. Cron blinked a few times for good 
measure, then turned to the man. 


"Hey Vincenti." 


"Hello again, Model 9," the man said, smiling eagerly now. His blue 
eyes peeked out from behind his glasses. "We've got a lot of work to 
do with you, and Homecoming is only a week away." 


-A- 


The Unforgiving Gridiron - Hub - TBA 


15:50 


16:05 


16:15 


16:22 


16:40 


16:52 


16:58 


17:06 


17:13 
17:21 


17:34 


17:23 


17:28 
17:34 


17:43 


Carpio 


unknown unknown bird, retained for 
possibly study - since 
Phorusrhacida#eceased 
(iliness) 
Eurypterida| unknown retained for 
eupterid study - since 
deceased 
(unknown) 
unknown unknown stillborn 
mammal, 
possibly 
Xénarthra 
[DATA [DATA [DATA 
EXPUNGED] EXPUNGED] EXPUNGED] 
unknown unknown retained for 
dromaeosaurigtudy 
Homo human retained for 
Sapiens female study 
unknown unknown stillborn 
placoderm, 
possibly 
Dunkieosteus 
Chamaeleo| three-horned None 
jacksonii chameleon 
Bos gaurus| gaur None 
unknown unknown fish, No match to 
unique jaw | any species 
structure on record 
Mandrillus | drill None 
leucophaeus 
unknown unknown No match to 
terrestrial any species 


Myotis vivesi 
Canis lupus 
familiaris 


unknown 


invertebrate; on record 
fish-eating batNone 


puppy; None 
possibly 

Beagie 

unknown retained for 


hominid study - 


Global Occult Coalition Casefiles 


INFORMATION AND 
BACKGROUND 


THE GLOBAL OCCULT 


COALITION 


From the Desk of the Under- 
Secretary General 


You are here because you want to know more. Whether you're a 
PHYSICS Division recruit, part of one of our 108 member 
organizations, an outsider, or simply a concerned civilian, you're 
here because you've been touched by the ongoing struggle of 
humanity to survive and thrive in a world where the supernatural is 
very real. You are here to help our species in its endless war against 
the dark. To you, | say: welcome. 


To those of you who would do harm to humanity, | say this: the 
Global Occult Coalition stands ready to defend humanity against all 
foes. Whether it likes it or not. 


Sincerely, 


Under-Secretary-General D.C. al Fine 
United Nations Global Occult Coalition 


About the GOC