Arjun’s eyes were fixed on the engine. He felt his mind begin to run 
wild. He was being told something—the engine was telling him 
something. It whispered at the corners of his mind, speaking a 
language that Arjun couldn’t understand. The patterns of science 
and logic unraveled to reveal higher and higher forms of knowledge 
while the remains of discarded theories piled in the sewers of 
humanity and began to rot. The higher the human mind reached, the 
deeper the refuse grew. 


He was asked—he was challenged—didn’‘t he see? 
Arjun stumbled backwards, clutching at his head. 
“Look into the future, Arjun,” Michelle said. 


Arjun saw stagnation. The human race eked out a miserable history 
until inevitable annihilation. Nihilism’s gaping maw swallowed up the 
essence of existence itself. There was no meaning, no value— 
nothing. Nothing! No matter which way Arjun looked, humanity was 
headed towards a heat death of the soul. 


“Let’s talk about chaos, Arjun,” Michelle said. “The primordial 
nothingness from which we came and the infinite void to which we 


go. It is the Alpha and Omega, and accordingly, chaos is in 
everything. It is our unavoidable destiny. There are forces which 
drive us inevitably towards that chaos.” 


Arjun looked at the engine and understood exactly what it was. 


Zhi Xin walked up to the engine and stared at it. “So O5 said, ‘Fuck 
it, and abandoned us to this thing.” 


“Whatever is taking place inside the O5 Council is much more 
complicated than that. They are driven by blind vengeance and 
over-pragmatism both at once. More than anything they are 
compelled by the all-consuming drive to contain. It is their survival 
strategy. But all of us here know how effective that strategy is, 
right?” 


“| can’t blame them,” Zhi Xin said. “There’s no way out. The 
endgame deal for all of us is some dusty, shitty end. Although, | 
suppose that now we’re stuck with this thing, that endgame deal is 
going to happen a lot sooner.” 


Michelle turned on Zhi Xin. “Fatalism produces no results.” 


“Look, I’m not really in the mood to talk about fatalism, how we’re 
saddled with that fucking thing, or our inevitable death. Let’s talk 
about why you ordered Owen to destroy the book. Because | know 
you did that.” 


“It was a cognitohazard.” 


“Bullshit. The only reason the GOC found it was because they were 
looking for information on what the Ahnenerbe was after, and the 
Ahnenerbe was after that thing. That book was information. It was 
knowledge. And you burned it. Why? You think there’s a way out, 
but the engine is already affecting your thinking.” 


Michelle stepped closer to Zhi Xin. “Are you suggesting that I’m 
compromised?” 


“Nothing personal. We’re all probably compromised.” 


“The engine had nothing to do with my decision to destroy what | 


knew to be a cognitohazardous object!” 
Zhi Xin smiled. “Whatever you say.” 


“Michelle,” Arjun said, “we would know if she were compromised. 
We would be able to see.” 


Slowly, Michelle drew back. 


Arjun turned to Zhi Xin. “Regardless, that doesn’t explain why you 
exposed yourself to that book in the first place. You haven’t told any 
of us—not even me—what you saw inside that book.” 


“Meaningless bullshit,” Zhi Xin said. “Nothing important.” 
“Xin, for God’s sake, you have to tell us,” Arjun said. 
Zhi Xin laughed. 


“To be completely honest, | don’t care what she saw in that book,” 
Michelle said. “It’s irrelevant. We have enough information in front of 
us right now to proceed with a plan of action. The O5 Council is 
shaking itself apart. There are some who recognize that the entire 
project of the Insurgency was an enormous mistake. And then there 
were those responsible.” 


“The ones who will join us,” Arjun said. “In our exile.” 


Michelle shook her head. “They will aid us in the beginning. Open 
doors that we don’t have the key to. But we will be alone after that. | 
don’t know what will happen to them.” 


“They disappear like fairies into the night,” Zhi Xin said. “What else?” 


Arjun looked at the engine. It stood silently, content to only watch 
them. Why not? Arjun realized that it needed only to do very little— 
subvert a situation here, give a suggestion there—because it would 
win in the end anyway. But he wondered if even the engine could 
have infinite patience for the end of time to come. 


Arjun said, “That thing is impatient. Sooner or later, it will act.” 


“Very soon,” Michelle said. “But we can use it.” 
Zhi Xin covered her mouth with her hands and started shaking. 


“When the O5s wanted more out of this project, | used HALMAS to 
look deeper into the engine. It is knowledgeable. And it is willing to 
give up its knowledge if we fight against the Foundation. That is the 
way forwards. As we are now, humanity has no choice but to fall into 
unending chaos. But if we understand the anomalous, then we have 
a way out.” 


“If we understand the anomalous?” Zhi Xin said. “Oh, God.” 


Arjun shook his head. “If we fight the Foundation? That's absurd. 
They have done everything for us.” 


“Have they?" Michelle said. “Have they? They abandoned us for 
their mistake. They are content to sit on their stockpile of anomalous 
objects, to contain and not to know, to do what they have done for 
eternity while the world crumbles into dust behind them. They think 
that they will be immortal if they do this, but they’re wrong. Look into 
the future again, Arjun.” 


Didn't he see? 


There was one branch that led away from the inevitable nihilism. It 
was a branch of conflict and violence and betrayal, of isolation and 
exile, but— 


“When the O5 expels some of their own, we will be given aid,” 
Michelle said. “And with that aid, we can spark hope.” 


There was only one way out. Arjun began to shake. 
“It can’t be,” he said. “This can’t be the only possibility.” 
“Do you disbelieve your own sight?” 


“For God’s sake, the Foundation’s all we have! There is nothing else 
for us! No birthplace, no home, no family, no history, no identity! We 
were made to serve and without service—* 


Arjun flinched as Michelle drew up against him. “There will be no 
more service for us! In a day the Foundation will make the illusion a 
reality, and we will be true outcasts. God knows what happens after 
that. We are being cast out as we speak, Arjun.” 


Slowly, the boundaries of Arjun’s being crumbled around him. The 
past was dying and the future glowed red and angry before his eyes. 
The present whispered omens of destruction into his ears. When the 
boundaries fell, he realized—he could do anything now. 


“Fine,” he whispered. 


“Fine?” Zhi Xin said. “Oh, goddammit. Neither of you get it. There is 
no way out. There is nothing to understand. You are just digging 
yourselves deeper and deeper into the den of that fucking thing.” 


Michelle’s jaw twitched as she ground her teeth together. “I take it 
that means you don’t agree with my proposal, then.” 


“Look, you moron. Imagine | get a toddler to scribble all over a floor. 
If you know a goddamn thing, you can see it’s all nonsense. But if 
you’re...an ant and if you see the tiniest, tiniest part of this four-year- 
old’s bullshit, it’s a straight line! It makes sense! There is order in all 
things! That is us. We are the ant.” 


Arjun remembered the night of the day when they had received the 
assignment to create the Insurgency. The future was filled with 
uncertainty, and something dark swirled in Arjun’s heart. He had 
said to Zhi Xin that the Foundation was all he had—he didn’t even 
know why he knew his own name. He had stared into his hands and 
watched fear take hold of them. 


Zhi Xin had smiled. She had said, “O5 can go fuck themselves,” and 
Arjun had felt a tiny bit of his fear dissolve. 


He had always trusted her. 
“Xin, please,” Arjun said. “This is our only way out.” 


Zhi Xin laughed. “I’m not sending myself on an idiot’s quest. I’ve 
spent the last twenty years doing that already.” 


“Then leave!” Michelle said. “Go out into the wilderness. Don’t you 
understand that neither we nor the Foundation will find your 
existence tolerable? The Foundation won't take you and you won't 
have us?” 


Arjun took a half-step towards Zhi Xin. “Xin, aren’t we—aren’t we 
your friends?” 


Without saying anything, Zhi Xin turned around and left. Arjun felt 
himself shiver as she went. 


“None of the others know,” Michelle said. “What Zhi Xin just did 
shows that we can’t tell them. We'll have to let the engine take 
them.” 


Arjun nodded mutely. 


Was this what it was like to be cast out? To be barred entry into the 
homes of the warm and comfortable? Somewhere, the O5 Council 
sat in its fortress of stone and continued orchestrating the mass 
alienation of the human race from reality. Arjun didn’t even know if 
he cared about the end anymore. Who cared if the human race lived 
a lie for the rest of time? Who cared if they died the whimpering 
death? At least he would have been warm. 


But he still could not bring himself to follow Zhi Xin out that door. 
In the center of the room, eight cylinders began to whir. 


« back | Chaos Insurgency Hub 


Polycephaly 


lan and Kyouko had run as soon as they knew that somebody was 
either trying to capture or kill them, and they had done nothing but 
run for the last five minutes. When the Way that had been their 
original destination had become compromised, they had known 
where the next Way was located. They had known that if anybody 
was taken or killed, staying behind only meant that they would 
probably share that same fate. So they had left Carlos, and they had 
run. They had both become very good at running. 


Events were still happening according to plan, which lan was very 
thankful for. He had little confidence in his own ability to improvise. 


In the darkness, lan had trouble seeing the river he was looking for, 
so he scanned in front of him for the reflection of stars in the snaking 
water. Finding it, he quickly slid down the bank and into the river. 
Kyouko was fast behind him. Both of them were breathing heavily, 
and the sound of flowing water filled their ears. 


“One of us has to stay behind to open the Way,” lan said. 
There was silence as Kyouko stared at him. 


“lll do it,” lan said. “You won't die if you do it, but you’ll be taken. It’s 
better for me. I'll die, but they’ll do worse to you if they take you.” 


“You hesitated.” 
“Well yeah, | don’t want to die.” 
Kyouko blinked. “All right. I’m sorry. It looks like you’re going to die.” 


“| Know,” lan said. He clenched his teeth and shivered in the night 
air. Water was seeping into his pant legs and the tiny woman next to 
him was still staring at him and his heart beat out a machine gun 
tempo. “I know.” 


There was silence again. lan read the time on his watch: 10:52:46 
PM. There were seven minutes and fourteen seconds until the Way 
could be opened. 


Kyouko opened her mouth halfway, but lan held out a hand to 
silence her. Listen, he mouthed. The padding of footsteps and the 
rattle of military gear filled the air. lan did not breathe. The silhouette 
of aman peaked over the top of the riverbank. The man was alone. 


lan and Kyouko were low enough in the water that they weren't 
spotted. For several long seconds, the man peered around in the 
darkness. Then, after fumbling for a moment, he took out a flashlight 
and pointed it at the river. lan and Kyouko weren't there anymore. 
The man had been too occupied taking out his flashlight to notice 
the sounds of splashing water, and was too surprised when he felt 
something sharp sink into his leg to put up any resistance. He 
collapsed to the ground in a limp heap. 


lan started dragging the man down to the water. “Oh my God, oh my 
God,” he said. “Did you kill him? Tell me you didn’t kill him.” 


Kyouko shook her head. 
“Then what the hell did you do to him?” 


“There is neurotoxin running through his veins. He’s paralyzed now. 
He'll be dead in ten minutes.” 


lan closed his eyes. “So we can use him to open the Way.” 


Kyouko nodded. “I was wrong. You won't die. But who knows? | 
might be wrong again and you'll die after all.” 


“Let’s not talk so much about my death, okay?” 
“Would you like to talk about mine?” 
“No!” 


lan let go of the man’s limp body at the edge of the river. Dark water 
lapped at the man’s feet. His unfocused gaze passed between lan 
and Kyouko slowly. 


The subject records footage of each sculpture in the 
room. The subject attempts to open the door on the left 
wall, but cannot, declaring it "stuck". Around twelve 
minutes after entering, the subject hears a smashing 
sound, turns and sees the pulverized remains of the 
camera and tripod. The subject [DATA EXPUNGED]. 


The subject starts to move into the next room when the 
video cable is cut and the front door closes and locks. 
Radio contact with the subject is lost within seconds. 
Subsequent examination of the apartment shows no sign 
of the subject or any equipment brought inside. 


Analysis: 

Footage shows eleven sculptures in the front room and 
at least four in the second room. Also in the second room 
is a table with what appears to be tools on it. Dr. Devon 
suggests a possible resemblance between some 
sculptures and several missing persons, including [DATA 
EXPUNGED]. 


Show Second Exploration Attempt 
Exploration Log 2, / /198 
Materials: 


* Two remote-control motorized bases mounted with 
cameras and microphones. 

* One camera array facing in through the open front 
door. 


Procedure: 

One motorized camera is sent straight toward the 
second room, while the other hangs back in the entry 
room. Just before the lead camera reaches the second 
room, both motorized cameras are suddenly and 
simultaneously flattened by an invisible force. Nothing 
else happens for ten minutes, at which time the remains 
of the motorized cameras are pulled out by the video 


“He’s not Foundation,” lan said. “They have better equipment. And 
they wouldn’t make a mistake like this.” 


The man’s lips twitched. Now that he could examine him closely, lan 
could see that he had dark skin and straight black hair. He was 
mumbling something in a language that lan couldn't understand. 


“Who, then?” Kyouko asked. She leaned in and placed her face an 
inch from the man’s, peering at him with unblinking eyes. “Not a 
jailer. Not a book-burner. Where do you come from, strange man?” 


The man’s voice grew louder. “Shut him up,” lan said. Kyouko ripped 
off a piece of her shirt and stuffed it in the man’s mouth. 


lan looked into the man’s eyes. They were too unfocused for him to 
make out any sort of emotion. The man lay there passively, 
submissively, mute to their ears and helpless against their will. If he 
had seen fear in his eyes, then lan might have regarded him as a 
human being, but he saw nothing there, only the poison. 


“He’s from the Insurgency,” lan said. “I’ve seen them before. The 
Insurgency’s dogs...they take them from the gutters, they starve 
them, and then they let them loose. They’re hardly human.” 


“This one is very much a human,” Kyouko said. “Can’t you see?” 


She ran her hand over the man’s cheek. “Feel him. He is warm, and 
soft, and he fears death. Seems like a human to me.” 


lan looked into Kyouko’s eyes. Fascination and wonder and 
discovery were inside her gaze as she toyed with the man’s body. 
lan didn’t know what Kyouko thought of the man. What did he think 
of the man? 


A lump of meat about to expire. 
“lan,” Kyouko said, “why did he come after us?” 
“Presumably because he was told.” 


lan wondered what the man wanted. The Insurgency marked the 
frontier of the unknown, even for those who made it their business to