I told Gilgamesh goodbye, said I’d see him on the other side of this heavy thing that's barreling on down the line.

I can feel it in the vibe—the tide is shifting to the other side.

I'll ride it out in the backcountry and let you civilized folk kill each other over the shit you made up.

I'm gonna sleep in a hole carved into the side of a hill with a stick and a big ole mess of dogs.

Plan I got is to make a big dog army, but don't tell Gilly—he's gonna shit a brick.

Maybe this one'll have his name on it finally.

Every day I wake up here,

The march of mornings.

I spent my life getting up for work.

I'm waiting for something to change.

I see things on the horizon,

They pass by,

And I pretend I always knew they would.

I'm waiting for something to change.

All water sings

Look on your works my lonesome child

Rust brown nail in the wrist of a fish white corpse

Did I do this

What song was I singing, do you recall the words?

Tell me.

---

Keep the path child of water. There is living and dying always, hold the line true in thy blood muddied mind for there are always more dead girls.

Do not throw his name at me.

I wept for him.

I mourned him.

He was weak.

But it wasn’t his fault.

He couldn’t have known.

Where there is no other way to go than as the crow flies,

all things that move in earnest cannot but cross paths.

Marks on the ground, seen and unseen.

By what reckoning have all these breathing things

found this common way stone?

Perhaps only by the reckoning of breathing itself.

More breathes than you imagine

in this lost quiet land.

Well Arthur my goodness what a surprise

The stranger makes a movement to approach but further heads him off, no no I’m watching that game anyway gesturing at the tv displaying a dog show as he plops a stack of freshly printed leaf on the bar and takes his seat next to the still standing stranger.

Is this your idea of a threat? Neat trick getting the files off the TRANSLATOR NAME’s box. Didn’t imagine you lot were so tech savvy.

It’s no threat Arther.

“Art” arty interjects

Blow me.

I can promise you this Arther at least, Whatever trouble you find, you’ll make yourself. And throws him a snotty wink

He catches the eye of the bartender and holds up three fingers, she nods and smiles and pulls another shot.

Confused at your type art,

She’s a kid, she reminds me of someone is all.

The stranger stops ginning. What was her name?

Rosie

The bartender softly places the glasses down, understanding the mood has shifted.

To Rosie then, may we all meet again.

The 3 down their drinks in earnest somber good humor.

The stranger tops art’s leaning stack of paper with an envelop.

What’s this,

Its sealed. The stranger begins to ready a cigarette

I don’t think there’s smoking in here man art says as he inspects the contents of the now open parcel.

Details for a chartered flight leaving the following morning. Corvo.

And an impressive piece of parchment containing a single entreaty written in a process and confidant hand. “Come and see.”

Art turns the note around and displays it to the stranger who’s knocking his ashes into his neighbors food.

Ah so soon, impressive art you little weirdo how exciting.

Ive been having dreams

Everyone has dreams art don’t be such a fuckin baby about it.

The stranger pats Art on the back as he heads for the door.

See you soon art.

Morning Cliffside villa corvo

A middle age man sits in a chair and watches the sun rise on his red brick back patio

Ley mayhew pleased as punch young man plop her on down there and I’ll get Mrs. S to fetch us a cup, I’m told you had quite the night last night, you be needing some hair of the dog eh, the older man laughs heartily

Art gets the impression of age but the effects of it are odd. Not quite a paleness to the eyes but a dullness, a flatness.

Looking pretty spry there old timer what’s your secret

Oh just clean liven don’t ya know it, and fruitful activity, key is to stay sharp, engaged truthfully. The work has kept me young.

But not much longer is my understanding, no offense

Ley snorts, Oh no offense taken young sir, whatever else this place is, it holds no refuse for empty gestures. No this is correct I have come to find my time is at hand, such as it is…

Ley?

Oh sorry ma boy I promise that was not dramatics, or not intended in any case, I’m just drifting a bit in my advanced age.

170

Ley chuckles “oh no no double that or so, with everything else here its not exactly accurate but it’ll do”

So you’re not really my great uncle or whatever,

Well yes and no just to a greater degree than you may have imagined, back in the distant din of your lineage, genetically I’m probably about as close a relative to you as Charlemagne, but isn’t it the damndest thing I can’t help but get a spring in my step when I see such a fine example of mine own loin well your a staic aint you boyo eh, as long bodied as a bull by god.

He caries on in his mirth for some time, arty lets him go on smiling as his own jokes for a while but he couldn’t tell you why

Ley? Why am I here

Well can’t you feel it, this is the flame my little moth friend, see here’s the truth I know you don’t give a damn about why you think I think your here, because you know why.

All your long years on this earth has anything ever mattered more to you than this, the loves the loses, the highs the lows any of it?

What would you trade to know the truth?

So don’t ask me why you’re here, ask me what’s next.

Mrs. S a woman of astounding height and grace produced PUETUGAL COFFEE

My lord boy put yer tongue away, he cackles, she’s mine to lear at, for now at least.

What’s next.

We follow him

The stranger appears, and dramatically gestures at a now idling transit vehicle

The ride to the dock is roughly 15 minutes, art idly wonders if it would have perhaps been more prudent to have him simply meet the old man at the dock in the first place if they were so fuckin sure of themselves.

They board a dive boat and circle round to the sheerest side of the island while Ley recounts his personal history on the area by gesturing to the dotted landscape of houses in chronological sequence of various trysts described in unnervingly candid detail.

The stranger nods to Ley as he slows the boat in a manner that he takes to mean yea they usual spot

Ley rises and assists with the anchoring off of the boat and begin to ready themselves to enter the water.

We uh swimming there

Yea under the rock

Like under the water under the rock?

How far?

Does it matter.

The water is ice cold and choppy, arts a passable swimmer but he’s more of a float and flap kinda guy. They approach the cliff face and the two in front submerge, art yanks down as much air as he can and dives. Kicking hard and clumsily as he goes down into the dark.

To his relief the two can be scene entering a cavern only a few feet below the water but they are moving quick which makes art nervous

He sees a foot as he arches his face into the cavern. He has to slow to get the right angle he had assumed wider given how fast they were moving. He’s two body lengths in and the cavern is getting tight, he brushes on shoulder against a wall then another on the other side. He tries to pull himself through think this will gain him some speed before realizing the cavern is now too tight to swim in anyway but arms fully out or fully in. Arts a big guy he thinks they must have clocked that right. He’s kicking furiously now and he sees light, he brusts into the air to the sound of cackles.

Ley stands aside while the stranger and two dark figures giggle furiously

It’s not quite as dramatic as all that is it art?

Bro fuck that, that was close what the fuck is wrong with you

You were fine, it was barely a pool length

He offers him an hand, art refuses and rolls clumsily on the carved stone out cropping.

He has emerged into a small chamber tune from the stone, given the rails and various containers not to mention art clocks with some annoyance a breathing apparatus, art takes this to be some sort of arrival chamber.

Where is all the stuff.

Come this way my eager beaver let me lead you to my temple, in shangrala did kublkhan build a mighty pleasure dome.

To whom it may concern please find writ here an account of the voyage of Ponto Qxorno to the island of corvo penned October 2nd 1653 by the hand of brother Lucius Demetros some 5 years following his departure

I write this account under duress and the honorable Ponto Korno has detained me under pain of death should I refuse to pen his tale.

Find here his words as he spake them

Long has been told to us the tales of wondrous and terrible healing

In my 30th year my mate was stuck by the movment of a weavers beam, she was many months pregnant.

The blame for this lay at the feet of our daughter Ellena tho she acted in foolishness not malice.

The hurt was too much for one man to bear

I sought a bargain I thought if I could demonstrate my bravery to god that he might spare my line this hurt

I was mistaken. Foolish.

Many weeks we sailed the Azores long past once we arrived on Corvo my wife had lane still and cold, her belly colder still.

I washed her in sea water and bore her to the place of breathing deep within the stone.

There in that deep place I laid her before the alter of the observer and I waited.

I thought to wait there till hunger took me, I slept many nights on the cold rock, I heard and saw things of such horror as they cannot be described to this holy man. Voices greater and more terrible than thunder. Shapes in the water no mortal mind could understand.

On the 7th day the belly of my mate stretched and writhed. Th priest of this place if that’s what he was spoke of serpents. That my boy would be reborn as a great and wrathful beast of such divinity that to even look upon him would be of highest blessing.

He seemed pleased that I had come. I asked him if he may save my beloved as well. He said there would be little point. She was of weak make. I sought to force the point but to no avail, theses men here are made of hardier stuff than even the tip of my iron spear.

A great scarlet worm burst from her in the night, I could not see her but I felt the vibrations of her sundered skin in the air, the wet tearing.

I wept and sought to look at least upon my son. But he was quick to water. The shell all that was left of my Paramore.

I make this priest write this thing so you may be forewarned. I mean not to spread this tale far and wide for I mean to walk from a cliff this evening.

You cannot do the things I have done and live as man is meant to live. I made an abomination of grief.

Post script:

Ponto korno joined his daughter in chosen death following the recounting of this tale

Art sits alone in his room and looks over the contents of the box:

He finds a packet of unfamiliar paper bound in a ring binder clearly new than the contents of the box would be assumed to have been given that aurther muller hasn’t been seen in nearly 90 years and the content are supposed to have been comprised only of his effects. Art considers that this later addition must have been from a family member likely his now deceased great aunt.

The paper contains the following accounts of proteus 7

*initial account already submitted*

Daily observational log (day 7):

Approximate weight/length: 14 kg/1.5 meters

P7 has remained in a docile state since its introduction to the hypergoal 7 days previous, it seems likely now that this inactivity will trigger then termination protocol which is a shape, its cellular histology is highly advanced and initial assessments prior to introduction showed great promise. Perhaps I may use its remains as a shell for proteus 8 so that this virus will not fall to waste

Daily observational log (day 9):

Approximate weight/length: 14 kg/1.5 meters

P7 has engaged in self harm activity which was initially of some distress, however the damaged tissue has produced extremely promising results when exposed to the effects of the font, its reformed limbs show highly advanced adaptations to its new water dominate conditions.

Daily observational log (day 10):

Approximate weight/length: 40 kg/3.2 meters

Proteus the 7th is advancing at a rate greater than any previously observed specimen, it took to the water the previous evening following its tantrum and has begun to engage in predatory territorial behavior. The top water of the hypergaol has experienced an exceptional shift with a dramatic reduction of visible life. Several promising fledgling subjects from the books of corvid, worm and serpent have been removed.

In an attempt to slow this culling the other scholars will begin the advanced feeding protocol in the morning, stocking the hypergoal with diverse as sea life as can be found inanition to several hundred head of cattle that have been sent for from the mainland.

Its speed and aggression are astounding.

Daily observational log (day 14):

Approximate weight/length: 780 kg/9.7 meters

P7 has completely emptied the top water of visible life. The book of corvids and the book of pieces has been closed, all subjects have either been destroyed or fled the hypergaol. The scholars are urging that P7 grows too quickly and is in danger of creating a bottleneck for the system. However as I have correctly observed this is exactly the end objective of this facility if it has one.

This is the crucible of the rough beast. Blooded arms that will pull down the very heaven’s will be forged here and they must have fodder for their ascension to obscenity.

Hey hey hey there is he is there’s daddy!

Arts roommate wiggles on the couch in anticipation of arts inevitable good mood.

So the long wait is over how’s it feel? We hitting the clerb or what man you know Baby Doll said she was dancing tonight she liked my story on insta

Well ya know uplighting freeing confusing, also the will is technically still in place. Is baby doll the one with the weird thing on her neck?

What? No. What? So no money what the fuck man what happened?

Crest fallen art’s roommate shifts his attention to the pixelated explosions dotting the screen.

Wells they were sure right, like remember how I was telling you how we sort assumed it was my great aunt keeping up the game? The one who just passed

“The token thing right? The asshole lady.” Chris responds matter of factly.

Well my mom certainly thought so but honestly I kinda like that she kept us from fighting over the money, but yea the token thing

Art plops down on the familiar couch in the familiar barely serviceable apartment and Wiggins to prepare his daily sacriment

Well anyway how it works is the guy I guess gave a list of items to Margret and cowl the firm managing the estate, and it’s like weird shit. When I was a kid one time it was a fork, one time a bell, this time it was a whistle.

Wait this time? Someone sent that shit in again I thought you said it was your aunt

Art inbibes his medicine and exhales slowly for dramatic effect casting a sideways cautious eye at his friend.

Fine I’m listening.

Nobody mailed it in, this guy just brought it. Firm had no idea they seemed more pissed than I was.

Wait why what do they care,

Well he like worked for them they gotta handle all this shit probono don’t ya know know.

Art passed the sacramnet to Chris in reverence and continues

So it’s an open will reading, they got some cheap ass champagne some scones they rented the second nicest meeting room ya know the works they are ready to put this shit to bed.

They start with the yada yada legal shit shit which idk I’ve heard boiler plate shit before but this was fuckin archaic man I’m telling ya. And they get to the I must be delacred alive if a token from the aformention index is presented. And this guy just cold as ice tosses it on the table

Wait there another fuckin guy there who? Like a cousin or something

Yea man, and no he doesn’t say shit he says he has a request from the head of the estate which is Aurther Mueller who is like idk probably 70 years dead at this point, he’d be like 160 I think. So it’s bullshit obviously but he requests the balance of the estate be paid out and the effects of a safety deposit box handed over.

At this point I’m about to send this dude out a window but the lawyer just fuckin looks at the whistle, looks at the signature on the envelop and says yea this checks out.

Bullshit man wtf there is no way you gotta call someone or something.

Noooooooooo, I’m not done. So I’m heated I’m thinking the same thing and I’m about to say so when the main guys like idk handler for the law firm pulls me aside and says he’ll give me the full amount in the estate and compensate for the effects of the lockbox which only lists like rare books as its contents. 20 grand in all. Says firm is going through some public stuff and the last thing it needs is some human interest viral story putting their name in the paper even more.

So 20 grand, nada, and I’m walking on air

“Fuck yea man let’s go….”

“Im not done man…” art coughs his lungs up for about 30 seconds while Chris observes a respectful silence, all part of the ritual

So I do all my paperwork and I clear outta there and who do I see waiting for a fucking bus but the guy with the whistle and man you know me I gotta know what’s up. Like this guy has some balls doing this idk if he like has something to do with the law office or he’s a plant or what’s up so I got ya know I mess with him abit.

Hell yea

So I go up I spark a bat and I ask how my uncle is doing right.

He’s spooky man, he just says “not well”. Hands me the box and walks away

Like the lockbox that you also got paid for? shit well when it rains it pours brother that’s great, about time something didn’t turn to shit in your hands. Whats in it? You’re a book head I bet he had some wild shit.

Oh you don’t know the half of it, look he’s talking about growing a giant fish or something in his basement I think it’s wild. He’s doing like fish eugenics or something.