5. The New Delhi Incident

Audio recording, a man speaks with a British accent

One, two… This is Dr. Young speaking, engaging in experiment 2.7, currently situated in the New Delhi secondary location, local time is 4 p.m.

Quick recap: we have spent the last 3 weeks successfully synchronizing the subjects. Through the continuous application of hallucinogenic substances, sensory deprivation and hypnosis therapy we have been able to manipulate the subjects into assuming a common state of identity. Note that this was – as mentioned in my previous report – an incredibly expensive and tedious endeavor, even putting us slightly over budget… However, so far, the results have been tremendous.

A door can be heard opening, several men enter

After extensive monitoring and testing, I can confirm that the subjects have now assumed a common identity for at least 48 hours. This is the longest recorded unison of this size to date. The common identity is that of Paul Jackson, a 43 year old American janitor. This is especially impressive seeing as all of the subjects are of Indian descent and have never been to the US. Additionally, none of them originally spoke English. The identity of Mr. Jackson is, of course, entirely fabricated by our Identity Technicians.

Several men can be heard chattering in the background

I have to reiterate how immensely impressive it is to align the total of 15 subjects into a single unison; especially one that holds for such an extended period of time. 2 years ago, it was considered impossible to establish a merge of this size in a stable manner. What we have achieved here may just be revolutionizing our entire field. This would truly, honestly be worthy of a Nobel prize …

The man can be heard chuckling slightly

Disregarding the circumstances, of course.

Anyway, due to the success of preserving the unison for so long, we have decided to begin preparing stage 2 of the experiment ahead of schedule. Our next objective is assessing the impact of sensory inputs on the unison.

My team is currently preparing the premises for this next step. The subjects will be placed in entirely separate rooms, completely isolated from each other. The subjects will receive different sensory inputs, and we will see if the unison holds despite this. The goal of this is to test the resilience of the unison. If it breaks, we can gain valuable information about the effects of a collapse of this size and duration on the individual subjects. It will be interesting to see if the subjects can continue operating normally, after the unison has ended. But if the merge actually holds, which is doubtful, we may be able to proceed to stage 3. That… honestly sounds surreal, saying it out loud… If we succeed with the current level, the possibility of manufacturing apotheosis can no longer be ruled out.

Pause, a different man speaks, his words barely being picked up by the recorder

Ah, so as I have been informed just now, there has been a small bump of neural activity noted in the UCM. We may have to pause for some time to let it stabilize. That’s fine. Then we’ll take that time to do some in-person assessments of the subjects.

The man can be heard coughing slightly

Ok, cough sorry, ok so far that’s everything, I will update once we initiate stage 2. Fingers crossed they’ll be ready soon!

This has been Dr. Young for Asmodius Labs, report over.

Recording end

---

Static noise

A few voices shout in the distance

A man can be heard yelling eagerly, getting closer to the receiver

Kchr

Hello?

This is James Gown, I’m issuing a high-level incident alarm, code 368, I repeat code 368

Loud footsteps striding with great haste can be heard in the background

I’m reporting back to Asmodius Labs HQ. Requesting immediate termination of experiment 2.7

More yelling can be heard, a siren blares louder and louder

We had a routine check-in with the test subjects at 4 p.m. local time. Vitals were fine, unison status was consistent. At 4:07 p.m. local time, something changed. At first, it was only a small increase in inter-neural activity. Then, six minutes later, brain activity across all subjects spiked. We assumed that this would lead to a disengagement of the unison, we prepared our personnel to engage in the elimination protocol, but… something impossible happened. We registered a 16th entity entering the unison.

The speaker pauses. His voice begins to shake. Frantic movement becomes audible, items on a desk being rearranged, notes being written

It… I cannot explain what happened. There were only 15 people in the facility, 15 people wired to the UCM. That 16th entity, it came out of nowhere.

Stacks of paper can be heard rustling along the metal desk

I checked all the logs, all the protocols. This has never happened before. This was never intended to happen. Quite frankly: It should not be possible.

A clicking sound is heard, then a spring. A periodic noise begins peeping into the receiver

But the situation has become worse: the unison has become self-sustaining. The UCM was overcharged and we lost all vitals; all control over the merge process. Our constructed identity is gone, evaporated as if it had never existed. The group has INDEPENDENTLY assumed a new identity which we cannot trace anymore. It seems that whatever this 16th entity is… It subjugated the test subjects without the slightest bit of resistance.

The speaker can be heard taking a deep breath. Then he continues with a quieter, shivering tone.

Within seconds, all personnel engaged in the elimination protocol were dead, psionic deconstruction at its worst, as if their minds had been ripped apart by a fucking tornado. Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like this before. I had the surveillance feed right in front of me but I couldn’t bear to look at it, I mean, images of twitching corpses, arms flailing through the air wildly, bodies rolling on the floor, unable to speak, unable to stand up, spasming around like dying bacteria. Human forms controlled by nothing but mush, flesh clinging onto its last purpose, without rhythm, without sense, without soul.

Whatever that entity is, it can never leave this facility. I’m therefore requesting permission to immediately engage the self-destruction protocol.

With every sentence, the man’s speech had become faster, higher pitched. He paused, breathing in deeply, sounding mournful, almost crying. A drumming sound can be heard in the background, growing louder and louder, something knocking against a hard steel surface.

I don’t know how this happened. I can only theorize that perhaps the size of the unison, the psionic footprint was too strong. I think it may have acted as a lure for whatever this thing is.

The speaker can be heard pacing up and down the room, as the metallic knocking gets louder and more rapid

I can hear it coming up the hallway. We tried everything, nothing has been able to stop them. Not the nerve gas, not the explosives, not even the Pyralic frequencies. Nothing worked. Nothing. NOTHING! Anything human, anything biological should have been dead three times by now. All the people down there are dead. All the test subjects, dead. All the workers, DEAD. And yet, this thing is still going. Honestly, I’m out of ideas, out of understanding. This has gone too far: it has to end now.

The metallic drumming sound becomes even louder, almost explosive, like a large mass slamming against pure metal

It’s so close. I can feel it draw near, even though I don’t see anything yet, I just feel such a pressure, like… like I’m being pulled underwater, deeper and deeper, where my lungs begin to collapse, where my ear drums are beginning to pop. It’s at the door now. I can see the shadow… it’s huge. Massive. Kind of round, formless, but also… somehow human, like multiple humans, heads and legs and arms, all of these extremities just flailing around uncontrollably. Completely out of position, out of order, they’re just shaking frantically, everything looks so wrong! Five… six… seven heads… maybe more! What in God’s name happened to them? WHAT DID WE DO?

A rough sound of creaking metal and a loud thump can be heard as something hits the desk on which the communication device is placed

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE APPROVE THE SELF DESTRUCTION PROTOCOL ALREADY?!

Static. Silence. Only the speaker’s heavy breathing is audible. The ambience continues for another minute without response, then:

James, this is Dr. Evans from HQ. Could you please put Dr. Young on? We want his assessment before we make any hasty decisions.

A loud crash can be heard, as if something had been thrown to the ground

Did you even listen to me? DR. YOUNG IS DEAD! Why do you think I have made this call? The experiment is over. Young was right there when the entity began communion. He was destroyed immediately upon its arrival.

More static can be heard. The drumming, knocking sound turns into loud booms, the metal slowly giving in, making way for the terrible thing waiting behind the security door.

James, do you believe we can recover any of the material, recordings or equipment, especially the UCM?

Are you insane? The UCM is fucking gone, exploded violently. It’s GONE. Same as Dr. Young, you daft cunt. FUCK!

Repeated slamming against the communication device can be heard, followed by an intense, angry scream

“PULL THE FUCKING PLUG”

Silence, for a few more seconds, then static rustling

Some conversation can be heard, Dr. Evans’ voice fading into the background

Another person, a woman, can be heard arguing with Dr. Evans

Then Dr. Evans’ voice become louder again

James, we’re going to make an exception here for you. The self-destruction protocol is approved. Feel free to engage immediately. Anything else?

Someone growls at the other end of the line. Frantic presses on a keyboard follow, as well as suppressed muttering

It’s done. Self-destruction engaged in 2 minutes. Wait, in 2. Minutes? 2 FUCKING MINUTES? How the hell am I supposed to get out?

James, as you surely know, with the engagement of the self-destruction protocol the area is sealed off immediately. There is no ‘getting out’. However, we sincerely appreciate your leadership and bravery.

Fuck you, Evans. Fuck you. Fuck all of you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!

That’s not very professional, James. HQ disconnecting. Godspeed.

The line disconnects with a soft click. On the other end, someone begins to sob and yell loudly, weeping into the receiver, hammering against the metal desk, as a loud mechanical countdown begins playing in the background

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why did it have to be me…

Suddenly something slams against the door again, and this time it gives in with a loud wet thump and a sharp metallic creaking. The door blasts open, ripped clean off its hinges.

A single, heavy entity - a wet, damp mass - slowly writhes across the floor. A terrifying screech follows. Rapid shuffling. The squeaking of shoes rubbing against the hard concrete floor. Then the sloppy, slithering sounds grow louder… closer… like a giant, abhorrent fleshy garbage bag being dragged toward the receiver - filled with the liquified, rotting remains of everyone in the facility

Oh god, oh god, what an abomination! Get away from me, get… Doctor… Doctor Young? Is that you? OH GOD!

A wet, visceral sound tears through the line, followed by a blood-curdling scream that cuts off violently.

Finally, the mechanical countdown in the background comes to an end. A sharp, stinging sound can be heard and then the line falls silent.