The more he looked at it, the more he had been inside the room, the 
more he felt it was right. It wasn't perfect, of course, he was not so 
arrogant and ignorant to claim so, but it was right just for him. It was 
the manifestation of his desires, his ideas come to fruition. The 
desire to show more talented young people this amazing, beautiful 
world, and the idea that you don't need the application of magic or 
an inherent god-like ability to twist reality. Because reality would be 
willing to bend itself if your ideas really have such impact, your 
emotions are loud and clear, and you know how to traverse the 
Flow. 


Everything here was his vision, and he had to make this work. All he 
needed now were some proper chairs because the cheap stool was 
really hurting his back. 


Yang slowly opened her apartment door as she finally trekked back 
from that bench covered with moss in the campus. Before she could 


process applies to more fully developed pregnancies as well, 
causing the death and destruction of placental tissue, followed by 
immediate expulsion of all remaining products of conception. 


Testing performed with mice indicates that immersion effects of both 
SCP-642-1 and SCP-642-2 are still present up to 24 hours after the 
water has been removed from the original source. Experiments with 
mixed waters results in no discernible effect either way at relatively 
even concentrations; testing continues on mixtures of 80% or 
greater from primary source. Oral consumption of water from either 
SCP produces results similar to immersion. 


« SCP-641 | SCP-642 | SCP-643 » 


throw herself into the comfortableness of her bed, she carefully 
closed the front door so as to not spill the water from a painting 
hanging on its back. As she looked at the animated ocean that 
threatened to flow out of its frame, she couldn't help but think about 
how right Legler was. It was originally supposed to be a perfectly 
normal painting, but she remembered how she enjoyed that one trip 
to the seaside too much, and now salt water had spilled onto the 
floor, without landing into the bucket she had previous prepared. 


She made a mental note that placing any painting at the front door is 
a terrible idea to begin with, before calling out to her cat. "Untitled!" 


A flurry of colors swiftly dashed out of one of the rooms, before 
sitting down in front of her. The "cat" intelligently looked up, liquid 
paints coursing through its shape. 


Yang took the painting down and placed it onto the floor, mindful not 
to spill any more water. "All yours," She said. 


With that, the cat shaped art piece happily reduced the sea to a 
puddle, breaking it down to basic colors before absorbing them. 
Meanwhile, Yang went to the living room, picked up a little more 
pieces that she wasn't quite into, and tossed them to Untitled. The 
cat was one of her earlier creations, which came into being because 
she wanted all the benefits of owning a cat, but didn't quite entertain 
the idea of performing the duties of a pet owner. It worked out quite 
well, as it was indeed an endearing little thing, and didn't mind 
feasting upon the less fortunate anart projects. 


Untitled soon finished its meal, gaining a new composition of colors 
in the process. Yang then tossed the empty frames back to the art 
supplies, and finally settled down into her bed. She brought up her 
phone and clicked into the icon of a black falcon, and was again 
reminded that her "retirement" from the anart circle wasn't so much 
a retirement after all. 


She scrolled through various posts by anartists, from people she 
was friends with to people she had little knowledge of. Occasionally, 
something from her family's side popped up, and she received talks 
about dragons and serpents and an impending doom that just 
seemed so far away from her. There were also bits and pieces 


about magic, and memetic tricks pulled by some Internet reality 
benders. Even the app itself had a fragment of Artificial Intelligence 
in it — made by Anderson Robotics to better secure communication. 


She was still very much in this community. Sighing, Yang placed the 
phone back to the bedside and retreated further into the bed. Seeing 
this, Untitled Knowingly climbed up and curled near her hand. As she 
petted the cat, the paints stirred with it, making a sound akin to 
purring. After a few moments, she picked Untitled up and placed it 
on her chest. Lying down, she looked around the room, conversation 
with Legler going through her head. 


The four walls of her bed room were all covered with paintings, 
some placed in awkward positions and some, with their unusual 
features, floated near the ceiling. She had taken time and chosen 
the quieter ones to hang here, some even with particular usage. 
Some of these served as windows that went nowhere, but would 
bring in waves of fresh air. A few others illuminated and saved her 
plenty of electricity bills. There was that one painting of a quiet field 
where the sun shined lazily and grasses were high, which if she 
stared at too long, would cause her to doze off. And back in her 
studio, more of these were just stacked together in the corner, never 
to see the light of day. 


It had been almost three years since the incident with Martha. She 
tried to stay away ever since. She had taken up normal jobs, and 
helped with family business here and there, which supplied her living 
quite well. But as much as she attempted to avoid reality twisting art 
pieces, they would always be created, even out of her most 
mundane practice. Because in the end, she enjoyed it too much and 
had too many ideas, and Flow always responded to one's true 
desires honestly. 


She wondered briefly, which was the thing she truly feared, to be 
apprehended by the Suits, or like Martha, to be wiped too much that 
the Flow was cut away from her. She felt responsible too, as she 
should have stopped Martha when it was just a harmful little thing. 
She was the older and the more experienced of the two, after all. 
But the tiny stream of creativity had turned into a flood that was no 
longer controllable. It ended in a disaster, for both Martha and her 
readers. 


She had seen Martha's works afterwards, the mundane ones. They 
lacked the extraordinary quality, for sure, but the sparks of creativity 
was gone as well. She could do nothing to help her once dear friend 
and roommate, and feared for herself. With a mix of fear and guilt, 
she had retreated from that life. 


"But guess I've been blocking the Flow myself, huh." She murmured 
to herself. She rubbed Untitled in the head a few times, and as per 
their routine, the cat got up. It flipped the few glowing painting 
backwards with an amazingly flexible tail. As the light dimed, it got 
back onto the bed, and they both turned in. 


Legler was awoken by a slight shake of the room. He realized that 
he had dozed off in his newly acquired chair, and that someone had 
come in through the front door. 


He rubbed his eyes and saw the paints on the entrance splatter. A 
moment later, Yang came through with more packages than she 
seemed to able to carry. She laid the packages onto the floor, and 
turned to Legler. 


"I'm in," She said briefly. 
"Art supplies?" Legler said, eyeing the packages. 


"Nope. That's your job," She said with a grin. "This is all the pieces 
that can no longer fit into my apartment." 


"And you brought them here.” 


"A studio could always use a few more paintings on the wall," Yang 
said almost too cheerfully. 


Legler sighed and shrugged as Yang went about unpacking. In a 
few hours, the studio was dotted with various art pieces of abnormal 
qualities. 


"Um," Legler contemplated as he looked through the paintings. 
Some featured objects with more dimensions than a canvas could 
carry, others with animated scenes, and a few more accompanied 
by sounds. There was one large piece that was basically a giant 


mirror, and there was one other large painting of a lake that didn't 
really do anything in particular. 


"Pretty average?" As if reading through Legler's mind, Yang asked. 


"Yeah," Legler said with a bit of relief. "| remember you way better 
than just this." 


"| can't exactly create something grand when I'm trying to not create 
at all," Yang said. "Besides, it's better for us to set the standards 
lower for beginners." 


Legler nodded in agreement. However, the room was almost full, 
and there were still a significant amount of art left unattended on the 
floor. 


"Whoops," Yang said as she occupied the last bit of the wall with a 
painting of a dark void that seemed to drag the viewer inside. 
"Guess | brought too much?" 


"Hold on," Legler went towards the backdoor, and pressed the two- 
dimensional knob. The studio shook slightly, and the walls suddenly 
started shifting. Parts here and there retreated backwards, creating 
more space, with new surfaces forming out of them in matter of 
seconds. The small parts of the floor where the two of them stood 
remained unchanged, but the rest had expanded and twisted, 
creating a large hall with maze-like stairs leading upwards into 
individual compartments. The art pieces previously hung closely 
together were now scattered, but each fit neatly into their current 
locations. 


"Okay professor." Yang said, looking at the new layout, "That is 
something grand indeed." 


Legler couldn't help but smirk. 


« Torrent | HUB | Anart Lecture » 


Anart Lecture Caught inbetween a Dying Riverside Tree 
and a Discarded Campus Bench 


Well, | think we're good to go. 


So, I'm Anton Legler, the one in charge here. Standing next to me is 
Yang. She will be helping me, and give you instructions from time to 
time. Technically I'm a professor, but you don't have to call me that. | 
want this to be casual, which would be better for what we're here to 
do. 


Ha! She says that, but if there are degrees and faculties for anart, 
she will surely make a professor. A good one. She was one of my 
best students, and | hope you will turn out more like her. 


Now, let's get to the point, shall we. Yes, this is a studio for the 
teaching of extraordinary art, as you were previously informed by the 
various people that introduced you here. Even if you weren't, surely 
you noticed something unusual by travelling to a non-existent room 
and coming out of a painted door. 


The hell you mean "small and shitty?" Yes, | can hear you perfectly 
clear, | made this small and shitty place mind you, it is part of my art 
creation. \f you say something, | will know. If you say something 
again, I'll make sure you exit out of the windows. They go 
somewhere as well. You wanna find out? No? Then shut up. 


And no, | don't think you need a grand cathedral to /earn, or put it 
another way, your petty skills don't warrant it yet. Since you have 
come here, you better learn to put the grand ideas and messages 
you heard from other people that you don't even properly 
understand aside. Because we are going to start with basic, small 
things here, and the last thing | want is you lot getting preachy or 
deeply philosophical in your first assignment. 


All good? Good. Now as you can see, by that corner, there are 
plenty of art supplies. Paints, clay, wood, and all the other stuff | 


could think of. So go there, pick something you're comfortable using. 
And no worries, they’re not gonna run out. If what you're looking for 

is not there, then you will just have to settle for the second best. But 
you can certainly bring your own stuff later on. 


Yes Yang. Gotta forgive an old professor for not being up-to-date 
some time. 


Found what you want? Good, good. Uh, what's that? 


Oh right, | guess we'll have to get that out of the way. 


I'm NOT teaching you to use magic here. The art supplies are not 
magical because I'm not a wizard. | don't know jack about that. And 
the reason | don't say "exploits" is that the materials you will be 
using are perfectly normal materials. The studio does replicate them, 
as part of its purpose, but no, you're not working with things already 
abnormal. Bring anomalous stuff here and you get defenestrated. 


So whatever wrong information about this studio you got, let me just 
make this clear. As much as I... respect some of my other 
colleagues who use magic as a component of their art, there is, for 
me, a fine line between art made from reality-twisting materials, and 
art created to be reality-twisting. And all I'm willing to, or can teach is 
the latter. 


Well, | have never been a demi-god, and this has worked fine for 
me, thank you very much. And last time | checked, Yang is also a 
perfectly normal human being, so this shouldn't impede you either. 


There will be no chanting wizards, no summoning circles, and yes, 
you can create art that breaches the laws of physics with bare hands 
and no inherent ability. Everyone can do it, and it has been proven 
with this studio itself and all these paintings Yang so eagerly 
attached to the walls. 


How? | mean, isn't that what you're here for? 


If you're disappointed that magic is not going to happen, then sure, 
leave. If you've now decided to stay and see how normal humans 


can create miracles out of the ordinary things, then good. | believe 
we can finally begin. 


Why don't you all look at the art supplies you now have. Make art 
out of that. I'm sure you have some sort of experience, since you 
found yourself here. | don't care how skilled you are, that's not really 
that relevant. If you want that kind of improvement, go to a studio not 
suspended between places. 


Before you start, | want you to think about yourself. More 
specifically, emotions, reactions, and feelings you have. Then, 
choose one particular emotion, and channel that into your work. 
Think about that, and what provoked that emotion when working on 
your thing. Think about how that can properly manifest in your work, 
or how it can be best represented. 


| don't care what exactly the emotion is, because it doesn't matter. 


If you're enjoying this beautiful sunny day, think about how the sun 
shines down and how the birds chirp between branches. Think 
about what is the best way to convey that feeling. Think about how 
to showcase that one particular scene in your head. 


Just things, anything that has an impact on your personally. Scenes 
you remember, people you cherish, hell, even food you like counts. 


| mean, if you hate me and this small and shitty studio, then channel 
that hate and | dunno, create a twisted mockery of my face? 


Why though? Because this is the secret. This is how you create 
anart, how you shake reality. In the process of channeling your 
thoughts, first as simple as emotions, then more complex like 
specific ideas, you're going to eventually, find something. Something 
that you will feel that is just right. Not for any others, but you 
yourself. And if you follow that, your creation is going to come 
together and you find the line that links everything. And then your 
ideas will flow furiously into your work as if a blockage is lifted. You 
will even find yourself have very little control over what is happening, 
only your subconscious at work. But that's how it is. Because then, 
something extraordinary may happen. 


And that's how | do it. How Yang and a lot others do it. We call the 
thing, no, that particular feeling, that state of mind, Flow. Because 
that's exactly how your art moves forward, like a stream, like a river, 
or even a waterfall. It's the thing that washes over you. 


| can't find a better word myself. 


| mean, there are different approaches to this, and slightly different 
settings for different forms of art. Things like maybe writing,