September 27, 2016
I have been able to recover these pages via a source in Japan.
It seems pretty clear to me that there are some sections missing from this, both at the beginning and the end, but I strongly suspect this is connected to the lead that Hank Johnson mentioned recently. I’ll keep an ear to the ground and see if the remaining sections can be recovered.
An Agent found a hidden code in some of the words in the story
Thanks to agent Jannes Van Slooten - for the transcript - (see comments in this post )
And always I journey.
And always at the place of the calling, there is some sign that others have marked the Locations with shrines or piles of rock or garish totems for reasons unknown and irrational, and always I meet people at these places and always they seem to possess a knowledge which is only grasped in the dawn and dusk horizon of my thoughts, but never in the full sunlight of understanding.
I was drawn to a place which seemed to be emitting a sound that was louder and more harmonious than all others.
But let me return to my current circumstances. I sense my own doom. I am at a cave. It was not any cave. It is a cave guarded by strong iron doors which are slightly open, beckoning to me.
I have visited temples in Caves before, with their flickering tapers and stony sen-tinels hewn out of living rock, but I have seen nothing like this. Travellers I met at the Fountains Of Light which emit formless globules of glowing plasm had told me of the Stony Temples of Petra, but I had seen nothing like this with huge doors of iron fashioned without the dent of hammers… There is a layer of rock dust that suggests that I am in a tomb that had been sealed up for a long, time. Here and there are the corpses of metal beasts… motionless. Like they were slain and their corpses left after the tomb was completed.
There are no adornments on the wall. There is no art… There are no statues… There are no displays of objects for the dead one to take into the afterlife.
It is cold and dark as death an I pass through the cave stepping upon wooden beams sunk into the earth which form a path beneath parallel iron vines.
The cave has opened into a chamber. It is large for a burial tomb, but small for a temple. The floating lights are dense in this room. I believe I am in the heart of the necropolis. My heart is pounding against my chest like a hammer striking a shield. My Gods! I am not alone in the burial chamber?
A colossal figure, twice as tall as a man sleep:, before me lit only by the pulsing globules of a light fountain such as I have never seen before. It does not move. Several small eyes flicker at me Like fireflies and yet I see none moving in the room.
I see nothing living in this room. At least not living in the form that humans live. Nothing is fashioned as the world is fashioned. All is crafted too perfectly to be done by the hands of man. This surely is the work of the gods. Giant tenta-cles emerge from an enormous black chest and slither into the floor, ceiling and walls as if they anchor the beast and there is a rushing of air and the low hum of
a stealthy beast that neither inhales or exhales. Too quietly to be a growl, more like a the purring of a cat..
Beyond the beset is a shape like the giant bells of the for east, wedded to the ground. A grotesque clump of metal, forged by an unknown craftsman. Surely this is not of our world. Surely this is not of our time.
I hear footsteps in the distance from where I entered the cave. They move neither quickly nor slowly. Deliberately, like soldiers invading. I am hiding behind the grotesque bell. I hear the great KI.ANG of the iron doors slammed shut. The in-vaders draw closer to me. I sneak a glimpse. These are not mortal soldiers. They wear helmets with bright jewels that emit shafts of light. I hide, lest they see me, but I can not resist crawling to a vantage point where I can see the proceed-ings. I am sure one of them has seen me, but they are so intent on their task that they pay no mind.
It becomes clear what they are doing here. It is a summoning. They are bringing this god to life. Why have I been led here? What is it I am to see? What purpose is this to serve? Who is it that listens to my words at the other end of the seeing stone? Who is it that sends me the glyphs? Who is it that sends me to certain death and for what crime?
A crashing sound echoes through the chamber. There is an unearthly clanging as ,he great gate crashes to the ground. A violent shock wave ripples through my body. The warriors draw forth their staffs and magic objects and fireballs streak across the room. Some warriors fall. What sorcery is this? The priest feverishly goes about his work as the others shelter him from the invaders. The room is rocked by fire-spells… It is filled with smoke. Something passes through my body. One of the maggs runs to me. I can not get away in time. And I realize that though our bodies overlap, I do not feel him he does not feel me. Either he is of substance or I am a shade.
But it is then that I realize that I am invulnerable to everything that transpires around me, not through armor, but through the exact opposite. I have no substance. I some out of hiding. I walk among the fighters. There are two sides. Green and Blue. The priest says some words I do not understand. It is either orders to his companions or a summoning to the machine— He asks a question. “Aydarunline…..'' He speaks it softly.
Suddenly, a voice materializes from the God. “Idizgudtocuagan. Ywzgutngwureed-abotu, As the God speaks, an eye opens up, and in the eye I see a circular pupil of gold, broken and shattered, not like any eye I have ever seen. A circle. The battle calms down… The attackers are all dead or have fled. Suddenly, all of the Ekzem Globules glow a single color…