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The Cursed Blade of [Redacted]
#1
>Begin log  0̶̨̰̫͎̳̦̪̦̝̠̜͕̟͙̟́̓͛̈̑̊̀̔͑̊͝6̸̨̪̰͕̩̳͉̺̇͛̂̋̚͜8̴̡̛̛̱̙̤̮͍̘̘͍̝̖̦͖̘̖̫͔̺̰͉̺̜͉͉̖͉̈́̓̐̇͂̆̈́͌̔̊̈́͌̈́͛̃̒͌̑͛̕͝͠͝5̸̢̮̫̳̟̮͎̬̥͖̩̤̝̪̞̼̯̼̤̬̤͖̥̮͊̈́̌̑͒̌͋̿̐̋̐̂̉̔̾̐̿̊̆̏͋̋͘̚̚̚͜͝ͅ5̸̪̟̼̪̹̬̖̌̌̇̑͗̀͆͂̈́͛̈́̆͂̚͝4̶̧̛̣̞͚̲̠͍͔̪͉͓̗̪̣̣̼͔̐̿́̀͒̍́͐̀͒͛̈̑̑͛̋́̊̕̕͝1̸̛̛̝̱̱̈͛̔̄͒̏̉̑͒͆̀̅̿̇̚̕͜͝͝͝8̷̢̧̛̰͚͍̤̹͍̖̳̻̃̿̏̀͂̓̊͛́̀̿̈͊̓͛̏̽̓͌́́̔̓̚͜͜͠͝4̴̡̨̧̧̜̫̩̞̳̫͚̦͓͈̤̦͎̪̩͚͓̱̼̪͚͍̓̅͂̀̔̓͛̓̒̑̈́͑̏̍͝ͅ-̸̼̣͉̹͈̘̅̈́̂̋̾̽̌ͅȀ̶̢͓̞̬̞͍̤̥̞͔͔̰̼̭̗͇̳̯͓̎͛̃͗̈͑̈́͆̂́̀̍̔̒̀̾̃̈͆͝͝͝R̶̞̣̝̙̫̜̠̝̳̼̭͔͎̦̯̞̜͉̆͌̈͛̄̒͠͠ͅͅA̶̼̖̗̮̣͊̌͜Ì̸̛͎̝͕̟̺̳̺̹͔̬͍͉̲̙̯̔͑̇͆̂ͅ





[The screen slowly flickers to life, though the recording itself is unstable. The view trembles occasionally as the camera is slowly turned and its focus is shifted to the dishevelled countenance of a middle-aged man. It’s being broadcast from an unknown location, across all available channels. Dry blood cakes his unshaven face, his bloodshot eyes flicking from corner to corner of their worn sockets in a worried manner. Judging from the thinness of his face, it is clear he has not eaten in quite some time.] 
 

“I-...Is this finally working? Hello? Is anyone receiving?”
 

[He seems to fiddle with the device a bit more, a panicked whimper escaping through his parted lips. Spittle is ejected onto the camera as he shakes the PDA in frustration.]
 

“I need to get this out. My name is Alexander Torun; I am one of the many Research Director’s employed by Nanotrasen, currently-...currently working on the NSS Destiny."
 

[The recording is briefly interrupted by several lines of static.]
 

“I-...I don’t know how long I’ve been in here. I feel like I’m losing my memory. My sense of self. All I have is my name and the reason for being here, in this cursed cavern. I can feel my flesh rotting from my bones. I fear my mind and body may not last in this perpetual darkness. It has already been an eternity.”
 

[The view trembles once more as he lowers the PDA onto a nearby rock, the old man collapsing onto his rear with an exhausted groan.]
 

“We were originally a research team assigned to the NSS Destiny. We intercepted an incredibly strange, alien signature being sent from a nearby asteroid that we hadn’t ever seen before in our records. Command assigned me and four others to investigate. I don’t even remember their names. That cursed blade is...It’s affecting me. I can feel it eating my very soul. Ever since we tried to pry it from the rubble, it’s been talking to me. Whispering things...Gnawing at my spirit.”
 
 
[The silence of the cavern is interrupted by a low, metallic hum. Far in the distance behind the man, a fiery, orange glow begins to emanate from the depths. He lets out another frightened whimper, tears forming in his eyes.]
 

“I was the one who touched it first. I don’t know what happened to the others. When I came to, I was lying in a pool of blood. Their silhouettes were naught but scorch-marks on the walls lining the cavern. It was as if something had absorbed them. I fear I may have done something terrible.”


[The low hum intensifies, gradually growing louder and louder. As the cavern becomes further illuminated by the glow of the sword, the outline of a blade is now visible behind the man, embedded in a boulder. His back grows rigid, as he lifts his hands and clamps them over his mouth. He is clearly petrified, his entire body trembling in fear. He lowers his voice to a whisper, just distinct enough for the device to pick up.]


“It...It talks.  I can hear it. Every second of every fucking day, I can hear it. It’s-...It’s alive. It has memorized the names of every sentient being it has ever cleaved through and it recites them, constantly. It demands sacrifice and it demands freedom. I can’t take it anymore. I’m not going to let it eat me as well. Not like this, not like the others...This thing cannot be studied. It cannot be researched. I do not know where it originates from, nor do I wish to know...Do not come here.”


[He reaches down and plucks a rusted scalpel with his right hand from the dusty satchel at side. In his left, a crumpled photograph. He lifts the scalpel to his throat, pressing the edge against his neck. Guttural, alien chanting begins to drone throughout the cavern, the source of it unclear. He casts his gaze down to his left hand, glancing at the photograph.]


“I-...I think I had a son. I have the photo of a boy with me. If he is, tell him that-...tell him that I love him. I’m sorry I can’t make it home.”


[He lets out a final whimper as the cavern begins to rumble. The shaking of the asteroid’s surface causes the PDA to fall off of the boulder it was placed on, tumbling into the dirt by Alexander’s feet. A slash and spray of blood is heard, though the view is pitch black. Desperate gasping fills the last remaining moments of the recording, before it is suddenly cut.]
 





>End log  0̶̨̰̫͎̳̦̪̦̝̠̜͕̟͙̟́̓͛̈̑̊̀̔͑̊͝6̸̨̪̰͕̩̳͉̺̇͛̂̋̚͜8̴̡̛̛̱̙̤̮͍̘̘͍̝̖̦͖̘̖̫͔̺̰͉̺̜͉͉̖͉̈́̓̐̇͂̆̈́͌̔̊̈́͌̈́͛̃̒͌̑͛̕͝͠͝5̸̢̮̫̳̟̮͎̬̥͖̩̤̝̪̞̼̯̼̤̬̤͖̥̮͊̈́̌̑͒̌͋̿̐̋̐̂̉̔̾̐̿̊̆̏͋̋͘̚̚̚͜͝ͅ5̸̪̟̼̪̹̬̖̌̌̇̑͗̀͆͂̈́͛̈́̆͂̚͝4̶̧̛̣̞͚̲̠͍͔̪͉͓̗̪̣̣̼͔̐̿́̀͒̍́͐̀͒͛̈̑̑͛̋́̊̕̕͝1̸̛̛̝̱̱̈͛̔̄͒̏̉̑͒͆̀̅̿̇̚̕͜͝͝͝8̷̢̧̛̰͚͍̤̹͍̖̳̻̃̿̏̀͂̓̊͛́̀̿̈͊̓͛̏̽̓͌́́̔̓̚͜͜͠͝4̴̡̨̧̧̜̫̩̞̳̫͚̦͓͈̤̦͎̪̩͚͓̱̼̪͚͍̓̅͂̀̔̓͛̓̒̑̈́͑̏̍͝ͅ-̸̼̣͉̹͈̘̅̈́̂̋̾̽̌ͅȀ̶̢͓̞̬̞͍̤̥̞͔͔̰̼̭̗͇̳̯͓̎͛̃͗̈͑̈́͆̂́̀̍̔̒̀̾̃̈͆͝͝͝R̶̞̣̝̙̫̜̠̝̳̼̭͔͎̦̯̞̜͉̆͌̈͛̄̒͠͠ͅͅA̶̼̖̗̮̣͊̌͜Ì̸̛͎̝͕̟̺̳̺̹͔̬͍͉̲̙̯̔͑̇͆̂ͅ






(So, uh, I haven’t written anything for SS13 before and it’s been a long time since I’ve engaged in some HRP. Anyway, I figured I’d whip this up as I made a sprite that just made me feel like writing something related to it. I’m quite happy with where the sprite is currently at. I’ll drop it below, so you have something to refer to if you decide to read. Thanks for taking the time to engage. Hope you enjoyed! If it's well-received, I wouldn't mind writing a bit more.)

[Image: eKj6jk3.png]
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