The Holders Volume 7 (61-70)

(NOTE: All 545 Object entries in the Holders series aren't credited to any authors so I'll just link to the official website)

## The Holder of Madness

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Madness". The worker will bow formally, with his hand tucked under his chest, and motion for you to follow into a waiting room. He will leave, and the lights will go out. When they return, thirteen seconds later, you will be in a dirty hallway with cuneiform scratching on the walls.

As you walk, the scratches will gradually change, to resemble an alien writing; attempting to decipher the writing will send you into writhing agony for the rest of your mortal days. As you reach a black orb, shimmering with liquidity, you must speak, "We are all mad, for you are the bringer." If the Orb comes to resemble a doorway, enter. If the Orb begins to rotate, you will be dragged into the nether.

In the following chamber, made of twisting black coral, stands a figure, ever-changing. In him, her, it, you will see all men, all women, children, animals, creatures, beasts, horrors that exist. It will not recognize your presence, unless you extend your left hand and say, "I swear an oath to Koth; may the Tower ever stand." At that time, he will cease his changing, long enough to place his hand on yours, and your soul will be torn out of your body and placed within a numbered humanoid skull resting on a pile to his left.

Touching that skull will bring you to the foyer of an ancient temple, lying in the sands of Mesopotamia.

The skull is Object 61 of 538. It must converge once more.

## The Holder of Salvation

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask with no hesitation to visit someone who calls herself â€œThe Holder of Salvation.â€ The clerk will give a knowing smile and beckon for you to follow. You will be led outside to an old and run-down well with quite a few stones missing, and the clerk will give you a key before returning to his post.

If you should look into the well, you will find that an old, rusted ladder descends into its seemingly endless depths. Should you choose to climb down, you will hear the wind as it blows past you. It may sound to you like a heavenly dirge, or the hellish wails of the damned. There is no way of knowing which you will hear. Should the wind stop at any time, freeze, even if it leaves you hanging by one hand, for it means that an unspeakably hellish creature has entered the shaft. If you stay perfectly still, and are very lucky, you will feel the wind of its passing. However, if you should hear its bestial growl, you would be wise to let yourself fall, and hope that the bottom of the shaft reaches you before the creature does.

After the beast has passed, wait a good minute before continuing your descent. You will soon lose sight of the opening to the shaft. Donâ€™t bother trying to light up the shaft, for this darkness swallows all light. After what will seem like an eternity, you will reach the bottom of the shaft, and remember the touch of light, as there is a single candle down here.

As you look around, you will see that you are in a small room, only slightly wider than the well shaft you just survived. There will be a single wooden door, nondescript and aging, across from where you landed. Donâ€™t bother looking for the ladder, for it has disappeared. Approach the door and knock thrice, lightly. Should you hear nothing, pray for a swift death, for there is no escape from what awaits you now. However, if you should hear a womanâ€™s voice say, â€œCome in, dear, I have been waiting for you,â€ then open the door and slowly enter.

You will find yourself in a room no bigger than a closet. A beautiful young woman sits across from you, on what will appear to be an aged chest. She will only answer to one question: â€œIf they are brought together, what can save us?â€ She will then proceed to describe, in horrifying detail, the only way to stop them once they are united. Many give up hope in this room, but you must not let that happen. For if you do, the woman will reveal her true form, and your death will be both long and painful beyond mortal comprehension. If you should survive, the woman will let loose an unearthly wail and disappear, leaving only the chest. The key you were given earlier will open it.

What lies in that chest is Object 62 of 538. It is up to you whether it should join its kin.

As to the tale the woman tells, let this guard against despair. If what she says comes to pass, the three Damaged will survive and start again.

## The Holder of Damnation

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask with no hesitation to visit someone who calls themselves "The Holder of Damnation." The clerk will frightfully deny any knowledge of such a thing, but will covertly slip you a toothless key with an "Ââ€¡" engraved upon it, and point you down a certain hallway. At the end of this hallway is a perfectly nondescript door, but for the doorknob. It is made of a stone that is blacker than the deadest night, and should you touch it, you will feel as if your very soul is being drained away.

Upon entering the door, you will be in a brightly lit hallway. The walls are lined with drawings, drawn in the style of a child, depicting the dreams of such a child. Do not look at these pictures, for their pleasant appearance is merely a facade, hiding their true nature. Should you gaze upon them, they will surely be the last thing you will ever see, for your eyes will be the first to go. The ceiling of this hallway drips blood. If you were to look up, and believe me, this is something you do not want to do, you would see the disemboweled corpses of hundreds, nay, thousands of children, impaled to the ceiling on their own bones.

Should you reach the end of the hallway, you will find a massive iron door. At eye level, there will be a small sliding plate. Take the key that was given to you earlier and hold the toothless part in your hand, with the "Ââ€¡" uncovered and pointing directly at the plate. Close your eyes and give one sharp knock on the plate. You will hear it slide back. Resist any temptation to look, for it will be the end of you. Wait ten seconds; count them off carefully. If the key does not change, run. Run as fast as you can and only stop when your legs can go no farther. If you feel the key change, however, wait until you hear the plate slide back into place and open your eyes. In its place will be a massive padlock. Unlock it with your newly-changed key, and quickly enter the room, closing the door behind you. The Holder of Damnation despises the light.

You will be in a dark room. There is no light whatsoever, but you will hear labored breathing from the farthest corner. Do not move closer, and do not speak. The only words that will not result in your death are: "Who was the first to bring them together?" Should you ask, you will hear a voice, neither male nor female, speaking in your mind. Soon it will give up on speech, and the images it creates in your mind will be horrifying. Do not scream, whatever you do, for it will see this as a sign of weakness and end your existence in such a way that only the criminally insane could understand. If you weather its tale, you will notice that specks of light have appeared all throughout the room. A hiss will fill the room, and rise to the most horrific scream you will ever hear as each point of light explodes, lighting up the room. When the light dims, you will see the charred remains of the Holder in the corner. Do not move in for a closer look; dead snakes can still bite. At your feet you will find a small velvet bag. It contains a flawless crystal star.

That star is Object 63 of 538. If it is allowed to shine, its light will drive all that see it mad.

## The Holder of Nature

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get to. When you reach the front desk, cover your ears and ask the worker to see the one who calls himself "The Holder of Nature". If you didn't cover your ears, pray to any and every god you know for relief of what comes next. The worker will stand and begin yelling in an unknown language, in a voice more filled with evil than Satan or any of the demons in his legion. To hear this voice clearly would corrupt your mind instantly, leaving you to suffer a pain far greater than the fires of hell for the rest of your life. Even with your ears covered, your head will feel as if it were in flames whilst the worker speaks his evil tongues. When he is finished, wait ten seconds before uncovering your ears, for evil still lingers in the air. After ten seconds, uncover your ears, and put your hand to your forehead, saying, "In the beginning." As you finish saying this, the worker will open his mouth and a portal will appear. Should you step through this portal fearfully, he will close it when you are only halfway through, trapping your soul in the dark abyss that connects the dimensions for all eternity.

If you make it through safely, though, you will find yourself in a garden. A garden more beautiful and lush than any forest or jungle known to man, demon, and angel. The garden seems to stretch on in to infinity, and in front of you, you will see a path. Follow it, but do not stray, for if you do the beasts of the garden will attack and begin to slowly tear the layers of your body off over what seems to be an eternity, and you'll be conscious for all of it.

After what may seem anywhere from five minutes to five months of walking, you will come upon a quaint home. Knock on the front door, and if you should hear a voice saying, "You are not welcome here, stranger," there is no hope for you. No praying will save you here. Your death will be horrible. If you hear a voice saying, "Please, come in," you may open the door and go in. He has welcomed you.

Inside, you will see an old man in a rocking chair, reading by the fire. He will only respond to one question, "What started it all?" The man will begin to change his shape right in front of you. The wrinkles on his face and arms will begin to fade, and his muscles will begin to take shape, as if he were getting much younger. He will stand and ask you to come to him. Don't. As much as he may tempt you to, do not. Stare directly into his eyes, and without breaking eye contact, inquire once more, "What started it all?"

Once you say this again, the fire will jump from the fireplace and surround the man. He will begin to speak, in a voice as loud as the roaring sea, yet as soft as a gentle breeze. He will explain the beginning of life, the Objects, and all of the universe. When he is finished, the fire will reside, and the man will be gone. In his place will be a marble on the floor. This marble is as red as fire, yet as blue as the sea. As clear as the wind, but as black as the earth. Do not try to comprehend this marble, for it will twist your mind into madness.

Pick up the marble and leave through the door you came through, and you will be back in the main lobby of the institution.

The marble is Object 64 of 538. You control the elements now.

## The Holder of Agony

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit something which calls itself "The Holder of Agony". The eyes of the person behind the counter will widen in surprise, as if they didn't understand why they recognized the name. They'll sputter for a moment, but their facial expression will soon change to a drawn, furrowed, pensive scowl. They will shudder, turn away, and refuse. You must ask again, and continue asking in a calm, soft voice, even if they weep or scream. Eventually, the life will leave their eyes, and they will lead you, with a shuffling gait, to a room with no apparent number just down the hall.

The worker will open the door for you. As you walk past to enter the dark room, they will land a sharp kick on the small of your back, hurtling you into the room. Whatever you do, do not stop or turn around while passing the worker. Please just trust me on that.

The room will smell simultaneously of alcohol sanitary wipes and the metallic tang of blood. You won't be able to see much until the same door you entered through opens, and the gray light from without illuminates a lanky, cloaked figure entering the room. When the door shuts, it will be darker than before.

Immediately, you will feel the cloaked figure press itself against your body. Its bony limbs will jab your ribs and stomach as it says, "I know you". Its voice will reverberate through your entire body, and you will feel every type of discomfort - like you're being watched, being molested, like your foot fell asleep, like you're dizzy, nauseous, impatient. Stand perfectly still. Make no sound, except to ask: "Why are they in pain?"

It will reply, in its gut-wrenching hiss, "I will hold you here for all time, and every night, I will mutilate you, rape you, and murder you." You will have no time to brace yourself or think, and especially no time to move, before you feel a wicked, jagged blade thrust into your abdomen and come out the other side. You will feel its rough surface grating against your organs. Do not move. Do not speak. Do not scream.

The voice will continue. "I will murder everything you love, and make them see your face as their killer. I will ruin everything you find beautiful. I will twist your mind until you are as grotesque and perverted as the rest of us." It will not stop, even as fiery, acidic pain lances through your nerves from the blade in your gut. The pain will stop your breath and perhaps your heart, but you must remain perfectly still. More of the blades will pierce your body, in soft places, in impossible places, and the voice will continue hissing its deadly vows, its baroque tortures that become so creatively inhuman and meticulously soulless that you will be in danger of losing your mind.

Stillness is your only defense. If you move, the blades, growing in number from one to five to thirty to a hundred or a thousand, if only you had a chance of counting, will tear away in every direction, forcing every chunk of your flesh and nerves to stay conscious and aware as they are rent apart again and again forever. Stay still, even as your entire body is wracked with agony that couldn't possibly exist; you would be wishing for a reprieve of snake bites on your eyes and razor blades in your nerves.

You must listen to the voice carefully, for eventually, it will say one of two things.

If it says, "This glory is reserved for those who have proven themselves," then I can offer only my condolences. Your eternal suffering will be so insanely horrible that anyone on Earth who has seen your face or heard your name will have nightmares of your agony even after they have passed on to the afterlife in Heaven or Hell. Your soul will be a wasted husk.

If it says, "Your whole existence of forever is untouched by this agony," you must reply, quickly and confidently, "The agony fills us all until they have stopped hurting." For every second it takes to muster your reply through the haze of unbelievable pain, you will suffer from another unique and unerring agony for the rest of your life. If you cannot speak, you will never know another moment without torture, and each day you will consider the prior day's pain to be the tickle of a feather.

If you reply correctly, everything will stop - the pain, the hissing - and you will feel the figure, once pressed against you, crumbling into nothingness. Lift the cloak and you will find a leather pouch. Open it only if you want to know what it would be like for the world to be torn asunder by a plague that even Hell wouldn't condone.

This tortured dust is Object 65 of 538. Don't run, or you'll never know.

## The Holder of Greed

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Greed". If a look of ravenous hunger comes over them, run from the institution, for if you do not, you will be eaten alive in the most painful way possible. However, if a look of tired want comes over them, they will take you to a cell in a corridor that wasn't there before. The walls will be made of fine gold and silver, but do not touch it, lest They devour your soul.

As you walk, if at any time you hear the sound of coins jingling, stop and yell quickly, "All that glistens is not gold!" If it continues, you are damned for all eternity, and there is no point in running. However, if it stops, continue.

Eventually, you will come to a gilded door. The worker will open it, and close their eyes as you enter. As you enter, the door will close behind you. Inside is an exquisite palace, crafted of ivory and gold and wonders that no mortal man has ever built or conceived. Do not dwell too long, as if you do, the world will open under you, and you will be eternally trapped in a world of filth and squalor.

If you continue, the palace around you will slowly and increasingly drip blood, until a torrent of blood rains down on you. Continue, and never look back, and do not stop. Eventually, the blood will stop, and you will be in a room filled with gold bricks and treasure. Sitting in a throne of platinum will be a corpse, which will respond to only one question: "What do they lust for?"

It will stand up, and begin telling of every want, every desire, every theft. If you manage to keep your sanity, the corpse will motion towards the treasure when it finishes with its story. However, do not take any of the gold or treasure. Instead, look for a small, copper coin, inscribed with an unknown language. The second you touch it, you will be back in the institution, as if nothing had happened, with the coin in your hand.

That coin is Object 66 of 538. It is worth nothing and everything.

## The Holder of The Cosmos

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. Get the front receptionist's attention and ask to visit someone called "Holder of the Cosmos". He will look you up and down. If he mutters and walks away, stay in place - he will return momentarily. Upon his arrival he will unlock a trapdoor beneath his desk and motion for you to follow. He will lead you down an ancient, creaking staircase made of wooden planks. It remains somehow suspended in an impossibly large room, the sides or bottom of which you will not be able to fathom. The only light will be from the quickly receding entryway. Vast, hulking shapes lumber in the darkness - I recommend that you do not make any noises louder than the gentle squeaking of the stairs.

Your guide will remain only a few steps ahead of you, but in the oppressive darkness his features remain unclear. You will be descending the stairs for what seems like an eternity. During this time, do not let your thoughts wander. Focus entirely on your objective - the Keeper of the Cosmos. As you sink farther into the blackness, wooden planks swaying beneath your feet, your guide's form may seem to shift. It is not a trick of your eyes. If he stops at any time, throw yourself from the stairs immediately - an eternity of falling would be preferable to his torment.

However, should he continue to move, you will eventually begin to feel a wind pick up. Far below you, the tops of trees will become visible. Above your head, a vault of stars and clouds. To your sides, a vast and unimpeded horizon, save for one structure far to your right. As you descend further, you can see it is a mansion with a small dirt road leading from it. This part of the descent is incredibly peaceful and will last for several hours. Enjoy it, but do not under any circumstance look back from where you came. The rickety staircase will collapse and you will plummet to your death.

Eventually you will reach the bottom of the stairs. They will have deposited you in a thickly wooded forest, a few yards from a dirt road. Your guide will stop moving. In the sparse shafts of moonlight filtering down between the trees, you will notice that he has changed considerably. Where once stood a man now stands a hellish, hulking beast. He will begin to turn. You must run. The staircase you recently descended will have disappeared. Your only choice is the road. The demon is slow, but he will not relent.

Run. Run until your lungs burn and your chest heaves. Run until your throat is slick with blood. Until you cannot run any longer. Give up hope. Fall to your knees. Weep. You will feel the demon's breath at your heels, and you will mumble a prayer into the dirt road as you see your life flash before your eyes. At that very moment, as you have lost all hope, a gunshot will roar into the void of the darkened forest road. The demon at your back will have been slain.

This next moment is crucial. No matter how winded you are, you must stand up and immediately say: "Who is their enemy?" If you wait a split second too long you will be blown to bits in a similar fashion to the demon. However, if you are fast enough, an elegantly dressed gentleman on a horse will trot out of the darkness a few steps down the road. He appears rather young and is holding an ornately crafted, 18th century pistol in his right hand. He has several large tomes strapped to the saddlebags of his horse and bits of script in a foreign language are visible pasted, in a fashionable way, to various bits of his clothing. He will slowly approach you, making no move to dismount, but visibly interested in your appearance. You must hold his gaze until he disappears in the opposite direction. Following this exchange your exhaustion will suddenly catch up with you, and you will find it increasingly difficult to stay awake. Give in to your weariness and sleep.

You will awake the next day in your bed, clutching a rough piece of paper. On it, in an elegant script, are written the words: "You are a fool."

That man is the Holder of the Cosmos, and he still holds Object 67 of 538. He defends the cosmos from their revival. Now that he knows your intentions, he will do anything to stop you.

There is, however, an alternate option. You must already bear the Widowmaker for this to work. Instead, when you rise, ask the Holder not, "Who is their enemy?" but instead show him Object 186. If you do, his eyes will widen in surprise and he will dismount. In his hand will be the white, ornate 18th-century pistol he used moments previously to save you. It is the brother of Object 186. He will then ride into the distance, soon fading.

The Holder of Cosmos has relinquished the Gravebringer, Object 67 out of 538. You have freed him - but at what cost? For you must now defend the cosmos from their revival in his stead.

## The Holder of The Negative

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. Get the front receptionist's attention and ask to visit someone called "Holder of the Negative". If the receptionist adamantly refuses to help you, immediately turn, leave the institution behind and take the fastest possible route home. After a fortnight of hiding you will know whether their trackers have found you. However, if the receptionist merely nods at you with a stony expression and gestures for you to follow, do so. He will lead you to a seemingly innocent-looking hospital room and leave.

As soon as the door locks, push the bed aside to reveal a decrepit wooden trap door underneath. Use the bed to block the door - the clock is ticking and the sentinels are already on their way. Open the trap door to find a dusty and grimy gray metal coffin in a shallow pit dug into the floor. Open the locks on the side and lift the lid. If the coffin is empty, lay yourself inside and close both the trap door and the coffin lid. If there is somebody already in there, well - I would recommend trying to snap your own neck before the coffin's previous resident does.

You must lie inside the coffin for exactly four minutes and thirteen seconds. Until this time, do not open the lid. What would come to pass if you did is beyond the description of mortal men. When the required time has passed, you may knock twice on the metal lid. If there is no answer, knock thrice more. If the coffin trembles slightly in response, you may push the lid off. If the coffin remains silent, you know your life expectancy is now a minute at best.

Push the lid aside to emerge in what seems like the dark, blasted remains of a bizarre underground machine shop. The blotched, ocher metal walls and the gray dust of time over the disengaged, quiet computing devices speak in their own way about the hundreds of thousands battles which were planned, organized and miserably lost in the very same room you are now sitting in. As alien and intricate the machinery may be, don't dally. Rise to your feet and reach your right hand out to find a wall. Fumble around until you find a metal lever sticking out of it - it's roughly at your shoulder level. If the room starts to emit an increasingly loud whirring, do not panic. Instead, call out sternly into the blackness: "It's the last piece of knowledge we require." If the whirring dies down, continue your search. If it doesn't, the machinery will engage in their last integration routine with you as their target. When you find the switch, throw it.

The last operational generator will start up with a painful whine, powering little else but the few good light fixtures around the floor. In the core of the still dim room, you will see a huge, brass-colored and impossibly complex mechanical device which most closely resembles a crossover between an opulent metal throne and a Victorian-era life support system. Amidst the zigzagging tubes, pipes, valves, cogs and plates you can see a gaunt, inhumanly frail corpse barely clinging on to its life. As intimidating as the throne may be, enter the creature's presence and matter-of-factly utter the query: "Who scattered them for the first time?"

Your question sparks a new light in his milky gray eyes, and with the spite and frustration of countless generations in his raspy, mechanically amplified voice he will recite to you all of the stories, all tales of vain heroism, every broken union and all of the heart-wrenchingly disappointing failures of all of those who came before you. His contagious despair will punch through your skin, slither past your flesh and pierce through your bones, but take heed not to lose your focus - he is still their slave and his corrupted side will readily consume you if given the opportunity. He will tell you of those who first knew of their convergence, how they scattered the objects and broke their unholy union and what made those first fail and perish.

When he is done, he will slowly and painfully extend his hand out to you from within the metal shell. Do not take his hand. Instead, cross your arms across your chest and exclaim: "Your flawed routines are not mine to embrace!â€ Leaning against one of the mysterious devices is a thin, two-pronged metal staff. Grab it, and using all the power you can possibly muster, drive it through the only exposed vital part in his body - his head. His death will be swift.

When his rotten body and the infernal device lie silent, reach inside the metal shell protecting the body and fumble around the inner workings of the machine. As soon as your hand hits a part pulsing heat, yank it out. It should come off easily. Retreat as fast as you can back into the zinc coffin - you have killed the only entity which upheld the order of the place and it won't be long until the room is going to unmake itself and crumble into the void. Slam down the lid, close your eyes, and if you are lucky, you will near-instantly drift off into sleep.

When you wake up, you will wake up in your own home, in your own bed, tightly hugging a warm chunk of metal to your chest. You would be wise to get rid of the coffin around you at earliest opportunity. It evokes awkward questions

This corrupted golden gear is the Object 68 of 538. You now know how your predecessors failed. Now it's your responsibility to make sure their errors are not repeated.

## The Holder of The Mind

In any town, in any country, go to any mental institution or rehabilitation clinic. Approach the front desk, and ask to see someone who calls themself "The Holder of the Mind." There will form a look of reluctance on the employee's face, which they will hold just long enough that it is barely visible. Then, you will be led down a hallway, ending at a flight of stairs. The attendant will leave you at this point.

Ascend the stairs. They will go on for what seems like miles. If your step falters at any time, or you take time to rest, even a moment of respite, your focus will quickly lose clarity until it fades away entirely. If your consciousness returns thereafter, you may find yourself at whatever place you call home, and the institution will have essentially vanished from existence. If this is the case, thank whatever entity you wish that the least likely outcome came to pass. If your consciousness does not return, then you are still fortunate you did not awaken to find yourself where your more ill-fated predecessors arrived.

When you at last reach the apex of the staircase, you will find yourself in a dilapidated hallway, appearing as some portion of a high-rise building. The wall to your left will have many doors. Do not open any of them under any circumstances, regardless of what sensations you feel urging you to do so. These feelings are scarcely more than base trickery. The doors restrain segments of your psyche mercifully shut away; to free them now is a grave mistake. The wall to your right is composed entirely of glass. Looking out this enormous window reveals whatever place you were born in, though entirely empty and devoid of life.

Walk the hallway. Its length is variable, so this may take even longer than your recent climb. At the opposite end, you will see a set of double doors. Unlike the many other doors in this hallway, you must open this one, though you may feel reluctance to do so. This is natural: your mind is still trying to protect you. Overcome this feeling, and step into the blackness within. Before long, a single spotlight will turn on from somewhere in the darkness above you, and all things within the spotlight will be made clear. Through its reflected light, you can see the surrounding area very slightly illuminated. It is best that you do not look too closely at the shifting images beyond the region of clarity.

The rings on the ground will indicate to you that you are in some kind of a circus tent, standing in the center ring. Across from you is a stout man with a flamboyant appearance, wearing a lustrous top hat that shades his eyes, blocking them from your view. Ask him, "What in me have They obscured?" Speak clearly, and more importantly, speak loudly. Speak as though you are addressing a crowd of thousands, or the ringmaster before you will have to remove you from the stage in a manner aimed to please the beings currently watching. Their sense of entertainment differs significantly from that of any human; hope that you do not find out how.

If you appeased the ringmaster, he will crack his whip. The sound will seem impossibly loud, and will be accompanied by a blinding flash of light. He will be gone, and in his place, two other people will have appeared. To your left stands the object of your hatred: whomever you have borne more resentment towards than any other you have known. To your right, the one most dear to you. Living or dead, these people will appear in the flesh in front of you.

Approach your mortal enemy, and wordlessly, he will hand you a knife. You will feel a strong compulsion to drive it into his chest - you must resist this urge at all costs. Instead, you must use it to carve the heart from your loved one. They will be conscious throughout, and will scream relentlessly for you to stop, crying out to understand why. Do not listen, and do not hesitate in your task, for the audience wishes to see the weak shed blood, and you do not wish to prove you are a valid candidate.

Retrieve the heart, and pass it to the ringmaster who now stands behind you. He will then tell you in great detail your first thought that compelled you to take up your present journey, and all context surrounding it. For some, this once-obscured knowledge replacing a false construction of the mind can drive them to such desperation as to plunge the knife into their own chest. If you resist this temptation, your vision will blacken, and you will regain consciousness in whatever place you were born. The knife you used will lie next to you. It will be a coarse red, forever stained with the blood of all lives you have caused to end.

The knife is Object 69 of 538. You now have knowledge of why you began. If they come together, you will be held responsible.

## The Holder of The Map

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of the Map". The man or woman will not look up from their reading materials; memorize the page number. Repeat yourself firmly. The man or woman will look up, annoyed. They will make a snide comment. If you hear, "Another moron", you will have found the right place. If there is any other comment, he will lie to you.

The man will then start by giving you directions. You will not be able to write them down, no matter how hard you try. If you don't follow the directions exactly, you will get lost. You will find yourself outside the institution; this will be the worst fate you could imagine. If you follow the directions, you should hear a sound as if an infinite number of hands are writing. This sound will increase as you near your goal. Should this ever stop, breathe deep and yell any information you have about where you started at, including your directions on how to get there. The writing should start up again. If it didn't, you will have to go back to where you began and start again. Don't get lost.

At the end of the directions you should see a door with an electronic lock, the numbers stained with blood. Stop immediately and you will hear a giggle. Don't turn around. A voice will start speaking under the now deafening sound of quills on paper. Ignore it and whisper one question: "Where will I end up?" He will go into grotesque detail about an ancient battlefield. At the point when he stops talking, input the number of the page the receptionist was reading from. You will wake up in the nearest church to the institution. You will be lying on a map.

The Map is Object 70 of 538. It will guide you anywhere you need to go, but not to the location of the other pieces.