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Registered Phenomena Code: 379
Object Class: Omega-Yellow
Hazard Types: Climatological, Extra-Dimensional, Teleportation, Destabilization
Containment Protocols: RPC-379 is surrounded by a perimeter of Protection and Research Division assets, prepared for the deployment of supply and reinforcement missions within ALTR-1313. This perimeter possesses a large number of potent floodlights to illuminate RPC-379 and the crater under it. A secondary perimeter has been erected 5km away from RPC-379 to prevent civilian entry. Both of these perimeters are designated OL-Site-379.
OL-Site-379 is primarily staffed by a Protectorate task force composed of personnel from the Firezone Rescue, Trauma Team and Neutralization Team subdivisions, prepared for swift aerial deployment to ALTR-1313 in case extant Authority forces require urgent support. Basic Security Rotation ASF forces currently guard the outer perimeter.
A Research Division Anomaly Experimentation Team is currently investigating potential ways to open alternate gateways to ALTR-1313 or reverse the manifestation of RPC-379.
Plans for the reintegration of Puerto Pirámides' citizens are currently ongoing; amnestics have been deemed an insufficient measure for the reparation of operational security — primarily due to the strain mass amnesia would provoke in the public conscious —, and as such testing with alternative methods (such as Extergito Glyphs) are ongoing.
Development of antimemetic shielding for RPC-379 and its surrounding crater is ongoing. A long-term amnestic and gaslighting campaign will be necessary to eliminate the city of Puerto Pirámides from the public consciousness.
All transcripts on this file have been translated from Spanish.
| Research Division |
| Office of Analysis and Science |
| Physics Department Unit-254 |
| Anomaly Experimentation Teams |
| OL-379 Team 1 ("Spike") |
| OL-379 Team 2 ("Hammer") [UNMOVABLE; WITHIN ALTR-1313] |
| Protection Division |
| Protectorate Task Force "BEATRICE" |
| RE-150, Firezone Rescue: 98 Rangers [PARTLY UNMOVABLE; 23 RANGERS WITHIN ALTR-1313] |
| TT-100, Trauma Team: 21 Rangers |
| NT-100, Neutralization Team: 68 Rangers |
| Authority Central Intelligence (SOUTHCOM) |
| DEP-022, Counterintelligence Department: Site-223, Site-254, Site-210 Units |
| DEP-039, Tactical Control Department: Special OL-379 Unit |
| Containment Division |
| Engineering Component |
| OL-379 Emergency Deployment "RED TEAM" |
| Protocol Laboratory |
| Protocol Team 379 "BLUE TEAM" |
| Department of Communications |
| OL-379 DoC Team: 56 Personnel |
| Authority Security Force |
| IB-100, Basic Security Rotation: 88 Personnel [PARTIALLY CANNIBALIZED FROM S-254] |
| IB-230, Base Logistics: 43 Personnel [PARTIALLY CANNIBALIZED FROM S-254] |
Description: RPC-379 refers to a massive spatial anomaly currently occupying an area of approximately 6km2 in the province of Chubut, Argentina, whose manifestation displaced the coastal city of Puerto Pirámides into an alternate reality designated ALTR-1313. RPC-379 is suspended 50m above ground. Its surface is black in colouring and is constantly shifting in shape, acting as the single known entry to ALTR-1313.
The exact conditions within ALTR-1313 are obtuse, but the following characteristics are known;
- Primarily composed of a red sand-like substance, save for the intact parts of Puerto Pirámides
- Constant strong winds, shifting between 80 and 140km/h moving northwest
- Presumably volatile temperature — the exterior of structures is known to spontaneously combust
- A faint sun-like light source is occasionally visible through the constant sandstorms
RPC-379 abruptly manifested on May 26, 2020 following two weeks of anomalous activity throughout Puerto Pirámides. Originally being approximately 2.3x its current size, it gradually shrunk after manifestation, leaving a significant crater along the coast that has since been filled with sea-water.
Audio and video communications with Authority assets and civilians inside the anomaly is maintained via a set of two interconnected Gen-5 Reznor Reality Observation Engines. However, maintenance of both devices is intensive and their functioning unreliable, a situation exacerbated by the extreme conditions of ALTR-1313.
RPC-379 is a one-way entry to ALTR-1313; all personnel and equipment entering it will remain inside indefinitely.
At around 1600 hours, a limited number of Puerto Pirámides citizens report brief anomalous events. Most of these regard temperature; indoor locations experience unexpectedly low or high temperatures before returning to normal, and wind is abnormally warm for the season.
These events continue and grow in intensity throughout the day, with temperatures reaching a maximum of 35°C and a minimum of 5°C, often shifting between both ends in the course of half an hour. They are largely restricted to small spheres of influence several meters in diameter.
Site-254 personnel are alerted at approximately 2030; a small team of incognito researchers is deployed to Puerto Pirámides to document the phenomenon. The anomaly appears to lessen in intensity after moonrise, and entirely disappear after 2350. The event is classified LAE-070, and Site-254 remains on low alert.
May 21st passes with no further developments, and the alert is called off.
Among National Day celebrations, anomalous activity resumes. Individual events are significantly more drastic in nature, with individuals becoming briefly intangible and falling beneath the ground before returning to their original position, and taps being blocked by large amounts of red-coloured sand, among others. Despite Puerto Pirámides being under COVID-19 lockdown, the information is quick to spread between households and to the municipality, with Site-224 becoming alerted at 1040, approximately one hour after the beginning of anomalous activity.
A team of four incognito agents in collaboration with on-site Physics Department researchers perform a Coherency test near the Municipality building, obtaining a result of 2.87; this is alarmingly lower than the expected ~3.90. The same test is performed two additional times in fear of having miscalculated, but similar results are obtained each time.
SOUTHCOM Authority Central Intelligence block Puerto Pirámides's internet connections. Site-224 opts not to engage further secrecy protection protocols, believing that the nature of the COVID-19 lockdown will prevent the spread of information beyond the city.
As the day progresses, it becomes evident that a great number of citizens intend on escaping Puerto Pirámides. Fearing the potential effects of allowing individuals with low coherency levels outside the area, an Office of Analysis and Science liaison at Site-254 pressures Site Director Escorzo to deploy ASF forces to the location. Escorzo complies, and an Anomaly Experimentation Team (AET) is sent to Puerto Pirámides in tandem with ASF.
All light in Puerto Pirámides acquires a red hue. The surroundings are affected by winds approximately 80km/h in strength. Anomalous events increase in frequency. At 0400, a section of a house in the outskirts of Puerto Pirámides is folded into a bi-dimensional space, then unfolded; its three inhabitants barely manage to escape.
Site-254 personnel vocally protest Director Escorzo's attempt to keep civilians in a highly anomalous area, forcing him to accept the help of Site-223's Protectorate guard. ASF forces are returned to the site, and evacuation operations begin at 0530, seeking to move civilians to Site-223. Due to the lack of available land transportation vehicles in Puerto Pirámides, Protectorate operatives opt to requisition local boats and other small ships. The AET remains at the location.
Amidst evacuation efforts, the municipality building unexplainably catches fire. Shortly after, Puerto Pirámides is engulfed by a bright light, and RPC-379 manifests. 23 Authority personnel and ~400 citizens of Puerto Pirámides are lost inside the anomaly. 346 civilians have been moved to a temporary camp outside Site-223.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Addendum 379/1: Incident Response
SECURE PHONE LINE TRANSCRIPT
Participants:
- Pedro Horacio de Cisneros, Protectorate Captain
- Gerardo Fernández, SOUTHCOM Area Manager
- SOUTHCOM Secretary
[BEGIN LOG]
[Heavy breathing; continues for 4 seconds.]
SECRETARY: Hello, this is SOUTHCOM Secretariat, how can I assist you?
CISNEROS: It's Cisneros. I need Fernández on the line. Gerardo Fernández.
SECRETARY: Please pronounce your six-digit code, followed by its pass—
CISNEROS: Seven-four-seven-nine-five-nine. "███ █████ ██ ███████ ██ ██ ██████."
[Brief pause; paper shuffling is audible.]
SECRETARY: All-right. Fernández will speak with you soon.
[Pause. A tapping noise is audible for the following 5 seconds.]
FERNÁNDEZ: Yes, Pedro?
CISNEROS: You're not gonna like it.
FERNÁNDEZ: Security breach at Pirámides?
CISNEROS: Close, but worse.
FERNÁNDEZ: Spit it.
CISNEROS: Puerto Pirámides is gone, along with the immediate Protectorate perimeter. It's been consumed by a black floating blob. According to my people, it grew from inside the city in a flash of light, then started shrinking. Left a pretty big crater, but ACI is already over it. It doesn't look like it's visible from Puerto Madryn, so that's one less problem.
FERNÁNDEZ: The entire perimeter?
CISNEROS: [Nods.] The entire perimeter.
FERNÁNDEZ: That's a whole tenth of the gulf. What about your guys and the civvies?
CISNEROS: [Deep breath.] About twenty of them are missing, few hundred civilians couldn't be evacuated.
[Fernández sighs in exasperation.]
FERNÁNDEZ: God damn it. Any idea what's up with the blob?
CISNEROS: Uh… Not so far, but the labcoats from 254 want to get their hands on it.
FERNÁNDEZ: Like hell they will! [Loud thump.]
CISNEROS: Christ— You sure you don't want their help, Gera?
FERNÁNDEZ: Escorzo and his army of four-eyes already fucked it up, Pepe. Were it not for this quarantine bullshit they tried we'd have gotten all of them civvies out, and now I have all of SOUTHCOM breathing down my neck.
CISNEROS: Fine, fine. What should I tell them?
FERNÁNDEZ: That I want Escorzo fucking disemboweled.
CISNEROS: I— I'm not telling them that, but I got the message. [Slightly tilts his head.] Jesus Christ, you got your rabies vax up to date?
FERNÁNDEZ: [Brief pause, then chuckle.] Might need a shot after this. Any other news?
CISNEROS: A whole load of seawater's going through the blob. Unless you want to get rich on whale oil, I'd get the Engineering Component on it ASAP.
FERNÁNDEZ: Got that. I'll mobilize some guys from 223 to help with the civvies and a Prolab team to figure out what to do with the blob. Do me a favour, and relieve Escorzo from command and send him my way. Tell them labcoats to fuck off for a minute while we keep shit together.
CISNEROS: Can do.
FERNÁNDEZ: Goodbye.
CISNEROS: See you soon.
[END LOG]
Following the manifestation of RPC-379, SOUTHCOM entered high alert and mobilized a large number of Protectorate assets, along a team from the Protocol Laboratory and an emergency deployment from the Engineering Component, establishing the initial structures of OL-Site-379.
The nature of RPC-379 was quickly discovered by the Prolab team, noticing that seawater that entered into contact with the anomaly seemed to disappear inside it. Testing with other objects confirmed that matter in contact with RPC-379 was being "absorbed".
A Protectorate scout drone was requisitioned from the area by the Prolab team with the intent of discovering the destination of matter absorbed by RPC-379. By then, its properties were suspected by Physics Department researchers, and the drone underwent significant alterations before deployment — namely, its control terminal and receptor upgraded with a set of experimental signal amplifiers that proved vital in maintaining communication with the drone.
[BEGIN LOG]
[The drone takes off, and approaches RPC-379 from the southeast. Around the perimeter, immense floodlights are mounted above prefabricated structures and pointed to RPC-379; the anomaly barely reflects any light, but its shape visibly changes. The crater is surrounded by dozens of tents of many varying sizes.]
[After half a minute, the drone makes contact with RPC-379; feed goes black, and stays so for a few seconds.]
[The feed slowly changes colour from black to dark red; it becomes apparent that the drone is tumbling wildly and out of control.]
[Feed abruptly changes; the yellow coloration of the sand around Puerto Pirámides is visible. The city is engulfed in a red sandstorm. A tourist company office building appears to be on fire. The higher buildings show scorch marks along their higher floors, and several streets have inundated. Feed quality is noted to have diminished significantly; it is assumed that RPC-379 allows for partial transmission of signals between baseline and ALTR-1313, but significantly dampens them.]
[The displaced portion of the gulf appears intact, dry and half-sunk in red sand. The drone is quickly descending toward the outskirts of the city; after a few seconds it impacts the ground, and video and audio feeds are lost.]
[At this point, contact with the drone is assumed lost by its operatives. Physics Department researchers accompanying them suggest that they attempt to deactivate and reactivate the signal amplificators.]
[After a few attempts, this appears successful; video is damaged but functional, but audio and rotors are unresponsive. The drone is in the hands of a Protectorate Ranger; he is identified as Xavier Martínez. Martínez turns and motions offscreen.]
[A second ranger approaches from the left, facing away from the drone. She takes interest in the drone, saying something to Martínez and pointing at the camera. She is identified as Lara Keegan. Martínez appears to fumble with the inside of the drone for a few seconds. Audio feed returns; Martínez and Lara shout over the sounds of the sandstorm.]
MARTÍNEZ: —ight be completely busted, though! Oh- I think it works!
KEEGAN: You sure?! Does camera movement work?!
MARTÍNEZ: One way to know! [Martínez gesticulates toward the camera while speaking, apparently repeating his words with hand motions.] If you can hear me, turn the camera left, if you can't, turn it right!
KEEGAN: What if the audio isn't working?! We should take it inside and get Julián to check it out!
[Martínez begins moving toward a small shed at his left, constructed from the exterior of a cargo container. Drone operators have a brief discussion whether to move the camera to their own left or Martínez's left, ultimately deciding on the latter.]
MARTÍNEZ: They can hear us! They can hear us, Lara!
[Keegan shouts in apparent excitement as they both step inside the shed; it appears to be set up as a guard post, perhaps for the entry of cars to the city prior to the manifestation of RPC-379.]
[Martínez sets the drone on a table, then moves to the side, walking out of the camera feed to the left. A door is heard opening, but does not close.]
MARTÍNEZ: I'll keep watching, try to tell 'em how things are going.
[Keegan crouches to look at the camera directly.]
KEEGAN: Del Toro got the civilians and half of our guys barricaded in the Municipality Square. [Keegan points behind her at an angle.] The worst of the anomaly is over and everyone's safe so far, but we have no comms with each other; radios are fried.
[Keegan briefly moves her sight away from the drone, looking at the window behind it.]
KEEGAN: We saw something tall move up North. Big tall dinosaur motherfucker. Set up guards along the borders of Pirámides. Haven't seen it again. Xavi and I are out here looking for it, but there's too few of us to keep things in control.
MARTÍNEZ [Muffled]: We need radios right now! All we can do is run back and try to get the Municipality if we see it. Maybe it'd be smart to try and get to somewhere safer? Might even find an exit door.
[Keegan turns to the side, facing Martínez.]
KEEGAN: No clue if there even is anything outside Pirámides! No sign of an exit either. And we're too few to risk exploring. [Pause.] What else do we need beside radios?
MARTÍNEZ [Muffled]: Food? Guns?
KEEGAN: We have a few markets, and houses are stocked for Corona lockdown. What would we need more guns for?
MARTÍNEZ [Muffled]: The tall thing. Our handguns aren't gonna cut it.
KEEGAN: We don't know if even the damn artillery would! What we need are medical goods to help the wounded. There's not a blasted pharmacy in this tiny village.
MARTÍNEZ [Muffled]: Meds will be worse than useless if we can't keep it away from the Municipality.
KEEGAN: [Scoffs.] So fucking pessimistic.
MARTÍNEZ [Muffled]: I heard that. And tell them to send reinforcements.
KEEGAN: Send more people in without any way to get out? For God's sake, keep your eyes on the ball. [Pause.] Whatever, we need meds and radios first. We'll figure ou—
MARTÍNEZ: HOLY SHIT! The restaurant is on fire!
KEEGAN: Wh—
[Sparks emanate from the drone; contact is lost.]
[END LOG]
Despite numerous attempts to resume contact with the drone employed for the above exploration, communications with the other side of RPC-379 — newly designated ALTR-1313 — remained impossible for the following week. Collaboration between the Protectorate and Engineering Component units proved vital in developing a method to reliably deliver materiel; roughly cylindrical containers constructed from on-site cannibalized materials were built to withstand a drop of approximately 300m without harming their contents, and dropped from a rescue helicopter above RPC-379.
These containers were equipped with parachutes requisitioned from nearby OL-Site-███ in order to ease the delivery, using the wind of ALTR-1313 to carry containers away from the center of the city, then breaking before leaving it entirely, hopefully dropping them in the outskirts and avoiding the civilian population.
While this last invention proved half-functional in testing — intentionally-weakened parachute tethers would break too soon, potentially dropping containers dangerously close to civilians — the first delivery attempt was carried out on June 4th, carrying a set of sixteen hand-held two-way radios, together with one base station unit powerful enough to allow rudimentary communication between ALTR-1313 and OL-Site-379.
OL-379 RADIOCOMMS TRANSCRIPT
Participants:
- Pedro Horacio de Cisneros, Protectorate Captain
- Mario Monocchio, Protectorate Ranger
- Marcos Rubí, Protectorate Ranger
- Raúl del Toro, Protectorate Sergeant
[BEGIN LOG]
[A dozen Protectorate Rangers occupy a green tent, in the center of which is a table with a radio station. Some rangers are sitting, while others are talking or eating. They are interrupted by the loud sound of static, which continues for three seconds.]
DEL TORO: Hello? Hello? You hear me?
[Del Toro's voice is heavily distorted due to static, but nevertheless discernible. Audible cheers; the news of the first delivery being successful spread through OL-Site-379.]
MONOCCHIO: Loud n'— Wait, how did this…
RUBÍ: Big yellow button, you dumbfuck.
[Rangers' laughter. Monocchio shakes his head.]
MONOCCHIO: Loud n' clear, sergeant! Stuck in the shitter, aren't we?
[More laughter.]
DEL TORO: I'll have you goddamn fried whole for that, Mario. Fried then sold on the streets for half a penny. [Chuckle.]
RUBÍ: Salaam, sergeant! Not enjoying being on the other side, are we?
DEL TORO: Watch it! That's enough banter for today, Rangers. Let's get down to brass tacks.
MONOCCHIO: How's them vacations going? Are our guys okay?
DEL TORO: We're not dead, so that's a lot already. Civvies aren't all for this winter camp shtick, but they'll get used to it. Thank the Lord for the radios — we'll finally be able to put order to this damned hellscape.
MONOCCHIO: Thank them hardhats from Engineering Component. Fuckin' saints they are.
RUBÍ: Someone from Encom warned us of structural risks — something about the ground under the city breaking up into small pieces.
DEL TORO: I haven't heard anything implode yet, but I couldn't even hear your snoring through this damn sandstorm. Red sand's been the appetizer, main dish and dessert around here, with a side of spontaneous combustion on building exteriors. But — could I get Cisneros on the line? I have to talk with him, in private if possible.
RUBÍ: Sure, we'll leave you lovebirds alone. [Looking around the tent.] Cisneros is around here, isn't he?
UNIDENTIFIED RANGER: Was in the Prolab tent a while ago.
MONOCCHIO: I'll go for him, one minute.
[Approx. five minutes pass before Cisneros is found; by the time Cisneros enters the tent, it has been vacated.]
CISNEROS: Thank you, uh…
MONOCCHIO: Mario Monocchio, sir. It's a pleasure.
CISNEROS: Thank you, Mario. Please leave us for a minute.
[Cisneros approaches the radio, sitting on a chair beside it. He fumbles with the microphone for a few seconds before finding the push-to-talk button.]
CISNEROS: Hello, sergeant?
[Brief pause.]
DEL TORO: Captain! I'm so glad to hear you.
CISNEROS: Glad to hear you as well. I am proud of you and your team's efforts, del Toro. Hope that those radios are helping you — but I know you don't really need them.
DEL TORO: Thank God your radios got through. I don't know how we'd do without them. But we uh… We—
CISNEROS: You need more supplies? Please, Sergeant. My people — and yours too — are here to provide.
DEL TORO: Thank you, but… Before I can even begin to ask for supplies — we need more people. We're not enough, and there are tall things coming our way. A Neutralization Team would help us greatly.
[Longer pause.]
CISNEROS: [Frowning.] Tall things? Please be more descriptive.
DEL TORO: I— We've not been able to take a good look through the sandstorm, but… They're tall, several hundred meters. Bones… Slightly insectoid, I think. And a long neck, without an end in sight. Too many legs, feet like dozen crab claws. And they're getting closer. We make silence when they do.
CISNEROS: I assume you've made contact with them. Any clue if guns work?
DEL TORO: No, we haven't. They keep away, just out of sight. But they are getting closer, and guns will not work.
CISNEROS: …I am sorry, sergeant, I do not think I follow. There have not been mutual hostilites, have there? No hostility displayed by them?
DEL TORO: No no, not yet, captain.
CISNEROS: [Leaning back.] Then why do you assume they are hostile? They could be passive, especially if unprovoked.
[Del Toro's breath becomes agitated.]
DEL TORO: I know it, we all know it. They're after us, testing our fear with every run. They're coming, and we're just not enough!
[Pause.]
CISNEROS: I will not be sending more people into the anomaly. I'm sorry, sergeant.
DEL TORO: Wha— What?! Why? Do you just not care?!
CISNEROS: We have no method of extraction. It's a one-way door I will not send my people through, not to mention yours.
DEL TORO: What about the fucking civilians? You plan on mailing them a goddamn excursion plan? I can write the first few lines for you if you'd like — "the Authority appreciates you for staying with us against your will, but we currently cannot be assed to do anything to help. In exchange for your cooperation, we are gifting you a list of ten fun things to do while trapped in Hell…"
CISNEROS: Cut it, del Toro. Our job is to save lives, not doom more.
DEL TORO: You just don't CARE! NONE OF YOU CARE! What will you do with the four fucking hundred missing persons, huh? Can't memory hole that, you piece of shit!
CISNEROS: [Rubbing his forehead.] We cannot hide the fact that a tenth of the gulf is missing either. It's not pleasing for me, and not even close for SOUTHCOM.
DEL TORO: After all I have done. After all my people have done! You are leaving me alone here, alone with them.
CISNEROS: We are doing all we can to rescue you, your Rangers, and the civilians. I would not like to condemn any more souls to my same fate if I were in your place.
[Silence.]
CISNEROS: A second supply round is coming your way in a few hours. Some meds, some extinguishers, some guns, some more radios. I'll be glad to provide you with anything else you might need.
[Silence.]
CISNEROS: Thank you for your efforts.
[END LOG]
| JUNE 4 2020 (22:27 - 23:57) |
15 H&K MP5 Authority Special Issue, 9x19mm Parabellum, shortened barrel; service kits and unintrusive protective covers attached. [6 DESTROYED AFTER DELIVERY]
26 magazines, single-stack, 15 round.
5 H&K MP5 Operation & Service Manual.
12 hand-held two-way radio devices. [12 DESTROYED AFTER DELIVERY]
40 Protectorate aid kits. [6 DESTROYED AFTER DELIVERY]
18 long-range portable fire extinguishers, air-pressurized water (Fire Class A; ordinary solid combustibles), courtesy of Site-254's Protectorate firefighter brigade. [1 DESTROYED DURING DELIVERY]
36 photocopies of "The Firefighter's Handbook: Essentials of Firefighting and Emergency Response, Second Edition." [8 DESTROYED AFTER DELIVERY]
24 hand-held two-way radio devices.
1 base station radio.
3 long-range portable fire extinguishers, water mist (Fire Classes A and C; ordinary solid combustibles and electrical equipment), courtesy of Site-254's Protectorate firefighter brigade.
340 total liters of water.
Various materials for the construction and reparation of a minimized Reznor Reality Observation Engine. Various repair kits delivered thereafter; maintenance discovered to be unexpectedly intensive, even when indoors. Observed catching fire more often than normal for similar devices, possibly due to ALTR-1313's properties.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Addendum 379/2: ALTR-1313 Status (June 2020)
SECURE PHONE LINE TRANSCRIPT
Participants:
- Pedro Horacio de Cisneros, Protectorate Captain
- Gerardo Fernández, SOUTHCOM Area Manager
- OL-Site-379 Secretary
[BEGIN LOG]
SECRETARY: Hello, this is On-Location Site-379, how may I help?
FERNÁNDEZ: This is Gerardo Fernández, SOUTHCOM manager. Is Captain Cisneros available?
SECRETARY: One minute.
SECRETARY [Muffled]: Anyone seen Pedro around?
UNIDENTIFIED [Muffled]: I haven't seen him. Maybe he's at the tents?
SECRETARY [Muffled]: Could someone please— Oh! Captain, you have a call.
CISNEROS [Muffled]: Christ almighty, I'm too tired for this. If it's another foreigner command representative, please tell them that Cisneros is very busy. Fire broke out.
SECRETARY [Muffled]: No, sir. It's Gerardo Fernández.
CISNEROS [Muffled]: Oh. Hand me the phone.
CISNEROS: Gera, what's up?
FERNÁNDEZ: Hey, Pepe. Sorry for the call, I know you could use some more minutes of rest.
CISNEROS: Don't worry about it, I headed back here to make coffee for me and the mail boys.
FERNÁNDEZ: Listen, I've had GD-SOUTH representatives snooping around my office this week. They want news, and I can't blow them off any longer. Need a short column, you get me?
CISNEROS: Right, right. [Pause.] Good news first?
FERNÁNDEZ: [Sigh.] Sure. Short list first, aye?
CISNEROS: [Chuckle, then cough.] As usual. Well, we've gotten a pair of mini-Reznors up and running, like some sort of trans-dimensional dial-up. The Screaming Eagles — Our rangers in the other side, I mean — they've got some guns and extinguishers now. They made sure to teach a few civvies how to use 'm. Oh, and the AET have drilled themselves right beside the Reznor on the other side. Guess they're fine.
FERNÁNDEZ: [Low laughter.] Screaming Eagles. Good one, good one. How are they doing, though? Beyond supplies and guns.
CISNEROS: Well… That's where the good news end. They're holding it by a thin thread. See— Remember the gate fires EASTCOM had in the 90s? The ones with the Gamma-grade blast doors?
[Pause.]
FERNÁNDEZ: Oh Christ. Yes, I remember.
CISNEROS: Yeah, those ones, but they're everywhere. Building exteriors and electronic devices — microwaves, fridges, radios — catch fire every other day. We're not sure if they're the same phenomenon, but everything electric drops sparks before bursting.
FERNÁNDEZ: There's no power there, right? It's uh, Carrington Event type stuff, I suppose.
CISNEROS: Come again?
FERNÁNDEZ: Geomagnetic storm, late 1850s. Telegraphs kept sparking across the States, fried some operators.
CISNEROS: I— I have no idea, man. Too tired.
[Pause.]
FERNÁNDEZ: Well, how're them civvies doing?
CISNEROS: Smelling roses in the countryside, of course. [Sigh.] They're shit scared of something that's been roaming inside the city, looking for them. It's tall, and doesn't care about bullets. Hiding in the houses has worked for now, but they've almost been discovered several times now. Labcoats ain't helping, and the Rangers aren't doing much better. Even del Toro's immobilized.
[Pause; Cisneros breathes in deep, then releases.]
CISNEROS: Well, I guess they're right. There's not much we can do. Did your guys from Blueberry Bay make any headway on the amnestic shield?
FERNÁNDEZ: No, no they haven't. [Pause.] If I'm to be frank… We're running out of options, Pepe. I'm afraid we have no idea what to do with the crater. Someone from our MSTs proposed we use a kind of drug therapy coupled with amnestics to replace memories and reintegrate the civvies we got out, but that's just not enough to hide a touristic powerhouse disappearing out of nowhere.
CISNEROS: We could build another city if the big blob wasn't there.
FERNÁNDEZ: But the big damn blob is very much there, god damnit!
CISNEROS: Hey, hey. [Brief pause, inhale, then exhale.] Keep it together, Gera. It's gonna be worse if you don't.
FERNÁNDEZ: Can I ask you to send in a few Rangers? To up morale. Maybe give them a rocket launcher or two, see if it works. Might give us time to—
CISNEROS: No.
[Pause.]
FERNÁNDEZ: I'm sorry?
CISNEROS: I am not going to send more of my people to their eventual death, away from their entire world.
FERNÁNDEZ: Fine. [Placing his head on his left hand.] I'll get a Neutralization Team from somewhere else and—
CISNEROS: No, for Christ's sake. I'm not dooming people to die away from their families to "up morale" or maybe give us a few days of time! I refuse.
FERNÁNDEZ: Man, now isn't the time for this. I know we're both sleep-deprived and stressed, but we can't afford to waste energy fighting between us.
CISNEROS: I will not send more people in.
FERNÁNDEZ: [Hitting the table.] …Fucking damn it. Fine. Have all the moral qualms you want, it's my ass getting fried.
CISNEROS: Mhm. I'm sure that's still better than living the rest of your life in a red desert. If you cared that much, you'd go and do something yourself instead of sending orders down the ladder.
[Silence. Fernández leans back.]
FERNÁNDEZ: Maybe you're right. Goodbye.
CISNEROS: See you soon.
[END LOG]
OAS UNIT-254 REPORT - 17/06/2020
------- -------
I am glad to announce that thanks to the collaboration of Anomaly Experimentation Teams Spike and Hammer, my unit is making smooth progress in our investigation of ALTR-1313. What follows is a sum of our discoveries;
ALTR-1313 is not quite similar in constitution to what we'd normally designate "ALTR" — it is not quite an ALTernate Reality —, but instead is more akin to the small pockets of existence that populate the nothingness between alternate realities, however unique in terms of stability. This has two relevant effects.
- It will be significantly harder, perhaps impossible, to open a two-way gate into ALTR-1313. Although Project Portal was halted in development short from its primary goal, the remains of the investigation at Site-014 point very clearly to the conclusion that "signatures" from these pockets are variable or nonexistent. This means that the RPC-379 anomaly is a dimensional rift of uniquely stable properties, which signifies that;
- It may be possible to reverse the manifestation of RPC-379. Team Hammer has solid proof that the immediate surroundings of Puerto Pirámides have a difference of about +0.5 in coherency to the rest of ALTR-1313, with the difference point being a circumference approximately 3km away from the Municipality Square. While normally negligible, the area in question is consistent with the size of RPC-379, which leads this unit to believe that the manifestation of the anomaly consisted in a form of dimensional folding - a process by which a fragment of space is transported to an area of equal size in a pocket of reality "smaller" than the origin reality. Thus, RPC-379 is the remnants of this ongoing process; a process that may be reversed with the intervention of a set of phenomena that have not been replicated to date, dubbed the Actuating Set.
The above theory is nearly impossible to reliably test without access to RPC-379, and the Unit fears that it may risk the continued existence of the anomaly. Thus, research on the matter will be inevitably slow.
We encourage the Protectorate Rangers and civilians inside of ALTR-1313 to continue to hold on while we investigate this possibility. Do not give up just yet.
------- -------
— Aaron Torquemada, Physics Department Unit-254
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Addendum 379/3: June 24th Incident
ALTR-1313 24/06/2020
INCIDENT LOG "HIGHWATER"
[BEGIN LOG]
[The inside of the Municipality building is dark; several windows line the walls of the entry hall. Red light floods in from the outside, vaguely illuminating the silhouettes of numerous civilians and Protectorate Rangers huddling against the North wall. Assault rifles, handguns and a pair of grenade launchers are recognizable amongst Rangers and civilians alike. Everyone's clothes are baggy and have long sleeves, but most are ruffled back. Other pieces of clothing are wrapped around their heads and necks; some are using goggles.]
[The camera is located beside a corner, facing the westmost window in the North wall. Heavy breathing is audible, as well as the slight echoes of movement and certain panic in innermost segment of the Municipality. Rangers and civilians occassionally peek out the windows, struggling to see anything beyond the red sand; despite this, it is evident that the sandstorm has waned, and the shapes of nearby buildings are visible.]
[A civilian peeks once more on a window, his face becoming briefly visible; he is recognized as Mayor Alejandro Postolovsky. He wields an assault rifle confidently, but is visibly afraid and his hands slightly tremble. He whispers to a Ranger beside him.]
POSTOLOVSKY: Hey, Lara. You think it went for the restaurant?
KEEGAN: It might've.
POSTOLOVSKY: Maybe check with them. We should go help.
KEEGAN: Give it a few minutes, radio chatter could get someone in deep shit.
POSTOLOVSKY: Right, right.
[A few minutes pass in total silence.]
[A loud noise then alerts everyone; the hall is briefly lit by sparks showering from the ceiling, as well as old ceiling lamps. Some have burned away and do not shine. The others quickly lose brightness. Whispers of relief are audible. A brief fire engulfs the shape of a building outside. A few heads peek in concern.]
[Half a dozen oblong shapes fall from above in quick succession, piercing the red sand beneath them and audibly crushing the asphalt of the streets. They have the aspect of crustacean legs, but are gray in colour and have a skeletal quality to them. Some Rangers and civilians whimper and curse; others hold their breath. A thin, elongated shadow descends onto the building on fire, as if expressing curiosity.]
[The creature stands briefly still, then starts walking; every step makes the ground tremble, but the moving legs avoid touching any buildings. What seems to be several dozen legs succeed each other in front of the windows. The echoes of panic in other rooms of the Municipality grow louder; a Ranger quickly crawls toward the main double doors in order to keep them calm.]
[The legs finally leave the windows. The streets have been ground to dust, but the buildings remain untouched. The ground continues to tremble for a while, then it stops. Rangers and civilians remain tense. Ranger Martínez speaks aloud.]
MARTÍNEZ: It went for the damned restaurant.
POSTOLOVSKY: God smite me from the heavens, we have to go.
KEEGAN: "We" are going. Civilians are staying here.
MARTÍNEZ: We're just five people! If that miserable shit Cisneros doesn't feel like sending backup, we'll have to make our own.
KEEGAN: Holy fuck, not this again. We have to—
POSTOLOVSKY: It's very simple — Walter, Uriel and the other two in the corner, you're the youngest and coming with me! The rest of you stay here.
KEEGAN: Christ, you're a goddamn mayor. Stop trying to play spec-ops with civvies!
MARTÍNEZ: Stop talking, start moving. Go! Go! Go!
[Keegan loudly sighs. Martínez runs toward the double door exit, followed by three other Rangers, Postolovsky, and four armed civilians. Keegan then follows, stopping a civilian to shout something; it appears to be repeat instructions regarding firearms safety. Martínez covers his mouth with a shirt wrapped around his neck, and drops a set of goggles from his forehead to his eyes, shortly imitated by his followers. He kicks the door open, then screams.]
[An immensely long skeletal neck extends from above the building and curving over the front doors. It terminates in an avian skull with six eyes set in a circle around the beak. The entire entity leaks small puddles of a red mass. The front three Rangers and Martínez open fire and step backward. The skull splits into four parts, revealing four sets of teeth, then lunges toward Martínez, closing around his abdomen then retreating. Postolovsky stumbles backward.]
POSTOLOVSKY: Back, back, back, get back! Inside!
UNIDENTIFIED RANGER: FUCK! Xavier!
[Keegan runs outside the Municipality building, followed by another Ranger and the cameraman. The neck retreats into the skies, getting lost in the sandstorm. The innumerable legs of the entity are disposed across the entire city; one of them steps near the Municipality plaza, nearly crushing both Rangers, who quickly open fire on it. The cameraman raises a handgun, and opens fire too; their aim is imprecise and the gun trembles in their hand.]
[Martínez's screams grow louder, then abruptly stops. Keegan stops firing.]
[In complete silence, Keegan runs back inside the Municipality building, then quickly returns; she has ditched the assault rifle for a grenade launcher. She fires two rounds in quick succession against the entity's legs. Its scream is otherwordly and machine-like. Video feed is distorted, and briefly goes black as the inside of the Municipality building is lit by falling sparks.]
[When the video feed returns, it is apparent the entity is walking away from Puerto Pirámides. Four legs are visible in the distance, and quickly vanish into the sandstorm. Keegan stares quietly while the Ranger team returns inside the building. Another Ranger stays with her.]
[Keegan weeps, and the video ends.]
[END LOG]
In the hours following the above incident, it became evident that the constant sandstorm within RPC-379 was losing strength; wind speeds reached a record low of 40km/h at approx. 18:30, recovering to 55km/h an hour later. The waning of the sandstorm allowed for ALTR-1313 to be perceived with unusual clarity, revealing a large number of helical structures spread in the distance. Estimated dimensions are 5km in height and 2 in width, but the upper portions remain obscured.
These structures appear to have intricate designs carved onto them. The material from which they are constructed remains unknown, but it has been observed to withstand repeated ignition without visible damage. The closest structure is approximately 3km away from Puerto Pirámides; exploration via scout drone is considered inviable due to the effects of ALTR-1313 upon electronics. Of note, of the 43 containers delivered to Puerto Pirámides and abandoned in the outskirts, 17 are missing.
Numerous silhouettes of entities akin to that observed in the above incident log have been observed on the horizon.
OL-379 RADIOCOMMS TRANSCRIPT
Participants:
- Mario Monocchio, Protectorate Ranger
- Pedro Horacio de Cisneros, Protectorate Captain
- Mayor Alejandro Postolovsky
[BEGIN LOG]
[The green Communications Tent is nearly empty; most Rangers are eating lunch or in their tents. Several chairs are disposed around the center table with the radio station, of which only one is occupied. Many long wires extend from the radio to a large metal structure outside the tent; this is a Reznor Reality Observation Engine. Ranger Monocchio sits beside the radio, occasionally swatting away at a fly.]
[Cisneros enters the tent, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and a few grilled sandwiches. He sets it upon the table, and sits beside Monocchio, who quickly drinks his entire cup. Cisneros yawns, then rubs his eyes.]
MONOCCHIO: Tired?
CISNEROS: Caffeine-deficient, I'd say.
MONOCCHIO: Shouldn't you be at the HQ? We can handle calls just fine.
CISNEROS: Got told that a civilian wanted to talk to me around this time. You shouldn't be handling calls either, that's Containment's job.
MONOCCHIO: Ah. I guess I would feel guilty if the guys from the other side didn't have a human being listening to them.
[Cisneros chuckles, but is interrupted. Loud static emanates from the radio. Monocchio slowly extends his hand toward the microphone, hunching over.]
POSTOLOVSKY: Hello, hello? Am I pressing the right button?
MONOCCHIO: Right button! Who's talking?
POSTOLOVSKY: Ah! I'm mayor Alejandro. I was looking for one Cisneros. That's the man in charge, right?
[Monocchio passes the microphone to Cisneros, then lays back.]
CISNEROS: Captain Cisneros here. I am glad to hear you.
POSTOLOVSKY: I'm sorry to cause all this fuss for you people, I uh… I-I just wanted to tell you that the things… They're closing in again, and there's more this time. We… [Pause.] We're afraid. All of us. And we— We need more hands, you get me?
[Cisneros places his hand over his forehead, hunching over slightly.]
CISNEROS: Where's del Toro?
POSTOLOVSKY: We don't know. He vanished.
[Pause.]
CISNEROS: I… I'll see what I can do. [Rubbing his forehead.] Are you for certain that—
POSTOLOVSKY: I am, Christ, I am. I know we sound like Old Man Jenkins already, but please listen to me. We're not gonna live through this. Y-you've seen the recording of the other day, right?
CISNEROS: I saw it.
[Pause.]
POSTOLOVSKY: Sir…?
CISNEROS: Please give me a minute.
[Silence; Cisneros is still.]
MONOCCHIO: …Captain Cisneros?
CISNEROS: Yes, Mario?
MONOCCHIO: We've got to do something to help the poor bastards already. I don't think there's a single man who'd refuse to in the entire Site.
CISNEROS: No one would want to spend the rest of their lives in a red, hellish desert. Mind your words.
MONOCCHIO: To be frank, I wouldn't. [Tilting his head.] But I couldn't live knowing that someone else did and I didn't do neither jack or shit to aid 'em.
[Brief silence. Cisneros drops his left hand from his forehead, then presses the push-to-talk button.]
CISNEROS: I'll send fifteen Neutralization Team Rangers your way.
POSTOLOVSKY: Thank you, thank you so much, sir! Thank you for everything.
CISNEROS: Thank the Rangers. I'm just a captain.
POSTOLOVSKY: Thank all of you.
[Static ceases. Cisneros sighs, straightens, then rubs his eyes.]
CISNEROS: I'm sending a dozen men to a hell from which they'll never return. Why in the goddamn am I being thanked for it?
MONOCCHIO: Jesus, Captain. You might need a few days at psych bay.
CISNEROS: When we're done here, maybe. Not now, that's for sure. That, and a week at a court-martial.
MONOCCHIO: Hey. [Shrugs.]* The labcoats are doing well; if it goes to plan, no one will have to die for nothing. It could be months… But hey, it's a break from this shitty country, so there's no way it could be worse.
CISNEROS: I hope you and everyone else keeps thinking like that five months in.
MONOCCHIO: Won't be in any position to complain anyway, so who cares?
[Pause. Cisneros points outside, toward the food tent.]
CISNEROS: Get me fifteen Rangers who are willing to get deployed. Make sure to let them know it's a one-way door.
MONOCCHIO: Please, Captain, we don't have doors around here. It's all tents.
[END LOG]
On June 26th at 14:23, members of the newly-reinforced Protectorate guard in ALTR-1313 saw a human figure in a white, tattered and bloodied cloak limping toward the outskirts of Puerto Pirámides. Initially assumed hostile, it was quickly identified as Xavier Martínez, assumed deceased in the June 24 incident.
Martínez was carrying a unique weapon as a form of crutch — its tip was partly torch and partly spear-like, with a circular cavity lit on fire, from which sprouted three blades. This weapon was greatly damaged, with its blades blunted or broken and the torch nearly extinct.
Martínez's abdomen was cut wide open with an unidentified implement, and most of his digestive system removed. Upon arriving at Puerto Pirámides, he fell unconscious, but still remains alive. How he continues to survive despite the loss of blood and organs is unknown. His body remains hidden in the outskirts of Puerto Pirámides, in hopes of preventing damage to morale. The implications of Martínez's return are still under discussion.
Rangers on the perimeter of Puerto Pirámides have claimed to occasionally see humanoid silhouettes hidden in the sand. Opening fire on them appears to drive them away, but they are large in numbers and routinely return to their positions.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Addendum 379/4: ALTR-1313 Status (July 2020)
OL-379 RADIOCOMMS TRANSCRIPT
Participants:
- Pedro Horacio de Cisneros, Protectorate Captain
- Mario Monocchio, Protectorate Ranger
[BEGIN LOG]
MONOCCHIO: Hello? Hello?
[The Communications Tent is empty. The inner perimeter of OL-Site-379 is overflowing with activity, simultaneously preparing a new supply delivery and repair parts for both Reznor Engines. The Engine outside of the tent is surrounded by personnel from the Physics Department, Engineering Component and Protectorate, among them Captain Cisneros; a Physics Department researcher shouts over the sounds of a helicopter, explaining the intricacies of repairing the damaged core of the Engine.]
[A visibly bored Ranger notices the noise inside the Communications Tent.]
RUBÍ: Hey, Captain! Sorry to interrupt, we got a call, think it's one of the guys that got sent in a few days ago. Mind if I…?
CISNEROS: You stay here, I'll take care of it. Apologies, professor.
[Cisneros enters the tent; his pace is quick, as if hurried.]
CISNEROS: Cisneros here. Who's talking?
MONOCCHIO: Hey! It's me, Monocchio.
CISNEROS: Already regretting it, I presume? I don't want to say "I told you", but I told you.
MONOCCHIO: [Brief low chuckle.] Close, but not quite. Everything's kind of okay so far, save for my hands that won't stop trembling and fucking up my aim. Don't need it most of the time anyway, it's almost always just warning shots.
CISNEROS: Right, right. I get that you need company, but I'm a little busy right now. Two hours is a luxury, three is oversleeping, you know? Gotta catch up.
MONOCCHIO: No, no. Ah, remember the Martínez guy that showed up the other day? His girlfriend's been with him the entire time, and it turns out he… Well, he fucking got up.
CISNEROS: [Sighs, placing his right knuckle over his legs.] … He got up? Without his bowels?
MONOCCHIO: Not only that — he's rambling. He's been rambling for… An hour and a half. No breaks.
CISNEROS: I hope it's not cultist doomsaying bullshit. I need morale high, even more now that good news have run dry.
MONOCCHIO: It is indeed cultist bullshit. Fire, brimstone, yadda yadda. But man, it's getting scary. I think the helix pillars are getting closer.
CISNEROS: Oh come on. Get it together, it's too soon to start hallucinating.
MONOCCHIO: Well, it's hard not to believe your brain when you're in Hell, shooting at shadows in the sandstorm.
CISNEROS: [Rubbing his forehead.] You're talking like a goddamn secondary character in a young adult novel, Christ almighty. Get yourself together, Ranger.
[Silence.]
CISNERO: Monocchio?
MONOCCHIO: Wait a minute.
[Silence.]
MONOCCHIO: There's something outside.
CISNERO: Get to it. Don't hallucinate too much.
[END LOG]
On July 5th, Rangers manning the southwest perimeter of Puerto Pirámides retreated to the city center, following a skirmish with a group of unidentified entities. Visual records of these entities is pending; they have been described as somewhat humanoid. It is believed that they are the same silhouettes that perimeter Rangers alleged to frequently see among the sandstorm after the June 24th incident.
All of Protectorate Task Force "BEATRICE" has been alerted; should the situation worsen, additional rangers will be deployed to ALTR-1313.
Numerous reports of massive structures on the horizon of ALTR-1313 have been received. Descriptions are inconsistent and vague, but often include pyramidal shapes, chains, moving silhouettes and great fires. The helical pillars previously described have been confirmed to be moving closer to Puerto Pirámides at an uncertain rate. Physics Department Unit-254 has been urged to abandon safety testing in order to develop a solution to the problem presented by RPC-379.
ALTR-1313 06/07/2020
UNNAMED INCIDENT
[BEGIN LOG]
[A Ranger stands outside the main doors of the Ameghino Primary School. His hand is on the trigger of an assault rifle, and his eyes scan the entry hall on the other side of the glass. It is deserted; schoolbags and tupperware lay open throughout the hall, stripped of their contents.]
[The Ranger turns his head toward the camera. His face is obscured by protective layers of cloth, but his voice is identifiable as that of Mario Monocchio.]
MONOCCHIO: You sure they're behind us?
KEEGAN: [Lowering the camera, possibly verifying its functioning.] Pretty sure they didn't all go for the other group, but there's nothing around right now.
MONOCCHIO: Fuck. Maybe they just wanted to get Martínez. Shut the camera, we need it not melted.
KEEGAN: [Sigh.] We should think of a more straightforward way to get a clear shot. The school hall is barely lit anyway, the guys outside won't see shit.
MONOCCHIO: We're going to the playground, not staying on the hall. And well… Maybe they'll have to squint.
[Low whistle, akin to that caused by strong wind going through a narrow space.]
MONOCCHIO: There they are! Move, move!
[Keegan turns behind her, straightening the camera and looking around for something with it. The glass doors audibly open behind her, but do not close. She hurriedly walks backward, fumbling with the safety of her sidearm on her left hand.]
[The camera stops moving, focusing on an obtuse silhouette. It is only a few meters away on the corner of an apartment block in front of the school, but a current of wind obscures it. Nevertheless, it is evidently closing in quickly.]
KEEGAN: It's just one.
MONOCCHIO: Fuck. Other group's fucked.
[Both Rangers run toward the playground, across the entry hall. The main doors are heard opening abruptly, accompanied by the noise of something impacting against glass. Keegan looks behind, trying to focus the camera on the entity following them; the low light allows to distinguish an abnormally elongated humanoid shape in all fours. Two organic masses, presumably extremities or wings, hang from its sides.]
[The gate to the playground are open; it is a large sandbox, littered with slides, merry-go-rounds, and a pair of hammocks. The playground is surrounded by other parts of the school, save for the right side which leads to a fence. The air is still.]
MONOCCHIO: Gimme the camera! You climb the fence and run to the Municipality!
[Keegan appears to doubt; she lowers the camera for about a second and stands still, then throws it to Monocchio.]
KEEGAN: Good luck!
[Monocchio is barely capable of catching the camera; it nearly flies over him. He scrambles to set it upright and put the safety cord around his neck as Keegan climbs on a slide and jumps over the fence. The entity charges Monocchio, who jumps over a merry-go-round to evade it. He stumbles in the process, falling to the ground face-up. A skeletal arm reaches over the merry-go-round, dripping a wet, red mass. Monocchio rolls several times and gets up using a hammock beside the fence.]
MONOCCHIO: No, no!
[Monocchio opens fire on the entity, inaccurately spraying bullets throughout the sandbox until the stream stops with a click. He is very visibly trembling, and attempts to run toward the slide that Keegan used to climb the fence. He's pulled in the opposite direction, apparently grabbed by the leg, but struggles to climb with his arms.]
[He turns around, shoving the butt of the rifle on the head of the entity and dropping it to get a clear angle with the camera. Its wings are spread and bat-like, composed of stone and kept together by skin, much like the rest of its upper body; a mass of flesh punctured by stone protrusions in the shape of bones. Its face is covered by a mask; the facial skin of a human being, with eyes and mouth covered by tied cloth.]
[Monocchio whimpers, freeing himself of the entity's grip and jumping over the fence, wounding his right leg on its sharp tips. The camera dangles beneath his neck as he runs, limping. The entity howls, very close behind. Monocchio takes an abrupt turn to the right, then trips; the head of the entity is briefly visible on frame before a voice is heard.]
KEEGAN: There he is!
[A second howl is interrupted by the sounds of gunfire. Monocchio gets away crawling, then stands up to run. The entity retreats, and the gunfire ceases; three rangers rise from their positions throughout the street, signaling Monocchio to continue moving as they catch up.]
UNIDENTIFIED RANGER: Go get a gun! We dumped Martínez in the Municipality bathroom!
[Monocchio makes a thumbs-up gesture, and runs toward the Municipality Plaza. The Municipality Building stands before him; several Rangers have made barricaded positions around the plaza, and others are signaling civilians to enter the inner precinct. Gunfire pierces the air. A great number of armed civilians guard several entries, a few of which are evidently not trained with firearms. Mayor Postolovsky hurriedly orders a group of them to follow him to an unoccupied fire position.]
[A team of researchers scramble to repair the make-shift radio tower that rises above the building; uncountable wires hang from the main antenna of the Reznor Engine, furiously sparking as replacements are brought in.]
[A fire breaks close to the antenna. An immense crustacean leg, gray in colour, falls close to a fire position, sending a team of Rangers flying. Feed distorts as sparks leak from the camera. Everything is covered in a flash of light.]
[END LOG]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Addendum 379/5: Update
[A convoy of jeeps filled with Rangers rolls across the streets of Puerto Pirámides, frequently bumping and turning, attempting to avoid the cracked concrete. The skies are blue, and the red sand is washed away by a strong breeze. The city appears deserted, and its walls are covered with burn marks. A ranger driving the front jeep speaks aloud.]
RUBÍ: Fuck me, how are we gonna cover this up?
[Captain Cisneros responds from the back seat.]
CISNEROS: I'll tell you when we know. Top option right now is blaming it on the United States.
[Laughter. The jeep takes a turn to the left, nearly arriving at the Municipality Plaza. A group of Rangers cheers and shouts, having come out of a fire position assembled with tables and chairs. The shouting from the jeep column drowns the sound of the engines, as numerous rangers jump from the back of the jeeps to make space for potential wounded. The fire position is swiftly disassembled with their assistance, and the convoy keeps advancing.]
[Rangers and civilians run from the plaza to receive the jeeps. Most cheer and wave, but some only stare, still in shock. Mario Monocchio approaches the front jeep, slowly limping with a rifle still in his hand along with a thousand-mile stare. Cisneros jumps from the jeep, and walks toward him.]
[Monocchio breathes in deep, then releases. His sight is still unfocused. Cisneros places his hand on Monocchio's shoulder, who drops the rifle to hug him. Cisneros pats his back.]
CISNEROS: You're fine now, Ranger. You all did well.
MONOCCHIO: I thought I'd never get out… How did they do it?
[Cisneros breaks the embrace, and starts walking toward the plaza, signaling Monocchio to follow him. The cheering from Rangers and civilians continues. Among the cheering, a few civilians, mostly children, are seen crying. Lara Keegan is among them, but she wipes her face and tries to cheer. Trauma Team Rangers hurry to recover the wounded from the inside of the Municipality. Researchers from the Physics Department and AET are already dismantling what's left of the antenna.]
CISNEROS: I have no idea, but they figured it out like you told me they would. Now you want to put on your pessimist socks?
MONOCCHIO: [Pausing, then breaking into a low laughter.] I accidentally left them on before coming here, and didn't bring a second pair. Stuck with 'em.
[Cisneros salutes a group of citizens coming his way, among them Mayor Postolovsky. He shakes the Mayor's hand.]
POSTOLOVSKY: It's great to meet you, Captain. Thank you once more.
CISNEROS: Please, sir. I didn't move a finger. You should thank the Rangers… But knowing just how much you've done to help around, I think you have no debt.
POSTOLOVSKY: Someone had to get these Rangers here, you know. And handle this… This entire thing.
CISNEROS: That'd be…
[Cisneros looks around him, trying to find someone among the crowd. A group of Rangers carry a set of three stretchers past them.]
CISNEROS: …Anyone seen Gerardo Fernández? He arrived a few hours ago and said he'd come with us.
UNIDENTIFIED RANGER: Don't think I've seen him. He's probably at HQ, damn paper-pusher he is.
CISNEROS: That's odd… Ah, Fernández was the manager of this operation. He brought us all here, but I'm not sure why he didn't come.
POSTOLOVSKY: Whatever — I have you first to thank! Yours are a ballsy bunch, Captain. [Pointing to Monocchio, who bows slightly in response.] Be proud of them.
CISNEROS [Laughing.]: Just as ballsy as you, Mayor! You'd make a great leader in our Authority.
POSTOLOVSKY: I— I'll think about it, sir. Thank you.
[The Mayor walks back toward the Municipality. A pair of researchers signal Cisneros from the entry doors, urging him to approach them. Cisneros signals them to wait, and turns toward Monocchio.]
CISNEROS: Get on a jeep, the Containment jannies are waiting at the Site with croissants and coffee. We'll arrange screenings later today to get you all back home.
MONOCCHIO: It's a little late for coffee, Captain. I want to stick around and help clear up.
CISNEROS: We'll take care. Come on, go get some rest.
[Cisneros turns away from Monocchio, but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder.]
MONOCCHIO: You guys need help with the cleanup. Nothin' more important than getting the toys back in the shed when we're done playing.
CISNEROS [Laughing.]: There is something more important; that you're alive. Enjoy it. Go flirt with the Communications ladies… Or maybe with an Encom hardhat, what do I know. Have fun with the life you earned.
MONOCCHIO: I can't get back until we're done.
CISNEROS: You can, Mario, and you will. Get in a jeep, I have things to do.
[Cisneros walks away, as the researchers continue to insistently signal him. Monocchio stares from a distance, until Rubí interrupts him, insisting that he get on a jeep. Monocchio turns, and walks away from the plaza.]
On the 10th of July, the manifestation of RPC-379 was successfully reversed by the efforts of Physics Department Unit-254, as well as both Anomaly Experimentation Teams. Reconstruction and reintegration campaigns are ongoing; the impact of the manifestation of RPC-379 was greatly softened by the COVID-19 lockdown, thus eliminating the need for a large-scale gaslighting campaign. No anomalous entities native to ALTR-1313 have yet been identified in Puerto Pirámides.
Sergeant Raúl del Toro and Ranger Xavier Martínez are considered Missing in Action. A full casualty report is still in the process of redaction. Reclassification of RPC-379 to Neutralized is pending.
UNTITLED FILE
Participants:
- Gerardo Fernández, SOUTHCOM Area Manager
- ███████
[Fernández enters an abandoned living room. It is nearly empty, save for a chair, a wall mirror, and a table. This table is semicircular, and placed against the mirror. Fernández sits on the chair, stretching slightly. On the other side of the mirror, [REDACTED] is sitting on the chair.]
FERNÁNDEZ: [REDACTED]. Are you listening?
[REDACTED]: I hear you. What do you want?
FERNÁNDEZ: I already told you before. Why would you come to a meeting like this not knowing what I want? I thought you had a better smell for bag deals.
[REDACTED]: [Turning to face Fernández.] Really? You just want the core? I thought you were bullshitting it to avoid tapped lines and wanted something less… Ethical. Your labcoats are more than capable of developing one of these for you.
FERNÁNDEZ: Even if I had bullshitted it, a tapped line would get me in deep shit. High officers aren't supposed to make deals like these. [Sigh.] I have the ball right here, like we arranged. [Fernández retrieves a bright, spherical object from his coat.] Hand me the core.
[REDACTED]: …That's a legitimate Eye…? [Straightens, as if tense.] What fucking game are you playing? You wouldn't drop one of these unless the Authority was truly desperate.
FERNÁNDEZ: Tight game. Now hand me the core.
[Fernández leaves the spherical object on the table. [REDACTED] reaches through the mirror and leaves a metallic polygonal artifact beside it, then retrieves the ball. She is confused, perhaps worried, and toys a little with the ball while Fernández picks up the artifact.]
[REDACTED]: I hope you have a bail plan. You won't stay Area Manager for long after this.
FERNÁNDEZ: Ah. I didn't have much time left there anyway. I guess I'll disappear either way.
[REDACTED] tilts her head, expressing further confusion. Fernández gets up from the table and looks at her, before pointing to his right eye. His irises are white. [REDACTED] recoils slightly.]
[REDACTED]: You paid a high price for that Eye.
[Fernández shrugs slightly.]
FERNÁNDEZ: Had to go and do something instead of sending orders down the ladder.
[REDACTED]: [Frowning.] What the fuck do you…
FERNÁNDEZ: It was a price worth paying.
[Fernández walks away, without looking back. [REDACTED] frowns and does the same, before dematerializing in a flash of light.]
