Sit back now and relax. I hope you’re comfortable, in a dimly lit room with a whiskey in hand. I want to tell you a story. One that I hope you will hold close and remember long after I am gone. This story is one that should not be shared outside of those it is meant for and most assuredly should not fall upon the ears of those junior amongst the trade of imparting logic. It is one meant simultaneously to warn and intrigue. To pull you in and inform but keep you far from my fate dear reader. This; is the story of the Call of Wijit’macr.
Know this, dear reader, that you embark upon a harrowing and confusing journey through the dark and twisted worlds of forgotten logic. Logic, mind you, that has grown like a member of the taxonomical classification plantae. Its depths wander and shift in the mind’s eye. Look onto it and look upon a mimic. Your own desires mirrored amongst a myriad of winding passages. Look too deeply and you shall never be able to find your way out.
I started, much as you did. My eyes wide and glistening with hope and promise. I arrived to this bed of wanton logic known as Nerdum Rium expecting the greatest of things to be held behind its walls. Shining in my heart was a thought of working my wonders upon amazing new things; things that the world had never seen. Indeed, this was what happened - the world had and never will see such things as this. I plumbed the depths of something unfathomable and reached a horrifying conclusion.
Ah, yes. The start. I arrived my first day to something erudite and unconcerning. I forget what it was now, but wish I could harken back to those days. Youthful and full of interest for this world that surrounded me. A logic that they called Period Nets. I was intrigued and fell under the spell of this rigid and structured thing placed before me. My heart and soul was poured onto an odd device made of metal and plastic. My fingers quickly learned how to manipulate and change this device; to move in a dance that matched what the artifact - and ultimately the people desired. I made beauty from a wonderful mechanical thing made of switches, and plastic and copper.
The data that I imparted in electrons was amazing. Moving and pulsing like a living entity that I could almost touch and smell. I thought I could almost hear it. Almost. That was the key to the beginning. I could almost hear it speaking. Wanting. Desiring. It almost spoke to me as though to say; “Create me from the nothingness before you. For I shall swallow worlds without thought and you shall rise amongst those around you. They shall look up to you as the one who summoned me forth.”.
My mind wrote it off as entertainment. You know. As you might find patterns and shapes in the wall when you are meant to be buried deep inside your studies. Loe, I did not realize that those patterns and shapes would return to haunt me in a way I could not fathom. I had been told once that those patterns and shapes I found by studying the empty void would lead to calamity and had always ignored it. Heed me and move along before you are lost.
I stared into a plane made of plastic and glass. Projecting onto it were glyphs and images unseen. Things that I had created like a god. Little did I know, I was not acting of my own accord.
My next assignment after the plebeian tasks put before me was to build a machination known as Curmsen Arpeem. It was originally known by a much more benign moniker, and that should have tipped me off. But I didn’t listen. I moved my fingers and danced in an intricate rhythm like none had ever seen. Inspired divine and wrapped up like an angel in his wings. I flitted to and fro answering every whim that my muse desired.
As the beast became more difficult to manage and contain; I struggled. For some reason though, I was always met with an equal drive to move forward. Something inside of me spake; ‘go forth and enact these things’. I bade the commands put forth and thus was borne the first of Wijit’Macr’s minions.
The humans called it by an innocuous name. I should have known better. The visage that I gazed upon seemed beautiful to me. Made of pure conceptual logic, built and designed with perfection in mind to mirror our own thoughts. I didn’t realize what we were making at the time, but it was the first of Wijit’macr’s minions that we were building.
It grew. And grew. And grew and grew and grew. Beyond a point where we understood its purpose. It started as a method to the madness of collecting physical artifacts for those of power into a way to track, monitor and maintain a constant connection therein. I should have known, as it extended its influence into those it touched. I should have known what lay within.
Beyond my mind’s eye; and I found this later - was an intellect far greater than I had thought existed. Its age was unknown and its goals could not be found through direct consultation of and inspection of the mind. It laid. In wait, beneath the depths of soil and dirt and ground that held it close.
You may know, my dear reader, of Cthulu. The once god of elder times. His image is known across this land because of his ability to bridge the ether that surrounds and connect his mind with ours. He slumbers. Kept safely from us by the toxic oxygen surrounding us. He lays. Waiting for us to ruin ourselves. Beneath the seas where he has built his safety; he waits. You have never laid eyes upon him; for such things lead to madness - but you know of him. You most certainly do.
I warn you before you think such things are fairy tale; understand that these things written once are ever present in your mind and your mind creates that around us. We impart our desires, whims and beliefs upon this world and in doing such call forth things we thought not possible.
Witness the rise of these panes of glass with glyphs that we comprehend. Witness conveyance devices that move us from one location to another with no effort. Witness heat spewing forth where that heat should not exist. We desire and we create. We know. And we create. That which once was not known, shall be known once we desire it to be.
Or once another does.
And so Wijit’macr came to be.
After Curmsen Arpeem had been created we lay dormant. Awaiting the next call to create. To arrange these electrons and symbols in such a way as to provide us food, warmth and clothing. The call to create was again answered; by a Mr. djacksim es. He beckoned and called and requested our help to create something that we had never conceived and so we answered.
Ever pressing to enter into the unknown and explore a thing that we could not know, we pressed forward. My dear reader, I stop you now and beseech you. Be wary, as this path leads to madness.
This man, or so we thought, requested a logic construct that the world had yet imagined. He wanted something so ephermal that we had trouble expressing it. Our arcane incantations only went so far as he begged and pleaded that we continue. Change after change after change after change that eventually led to an entity who’s very being was defined by change. We should have known.
As things progressed we noticed little by little that there was something amiss. Our incantations were unable to contain this thing and we could not predict its behavior. Amass and constantly changing it bred forth a multitude of distractions. Peripheral portions that did not work according to plan and core parts of its being that were, for lack of a better word, misbehaving.
It was later that we learned. We understood. But it was too late.
This thing that we were conjuring. That we were manifesting. Was not new. But had existed long before we came to be. This Wijit’macr was a thing that had been in our timestream for eons and was not want to wait. We struggled to meet its desires and met every turn with change after change. Alas, we could not keep up with its desires.
The man known as djack was later found to be operating in conjunction with this Wijit’macr. However, it was far too late when we made the realization. We studied its definitions and construction but found it ever shifting. For every change that we made, five new pathways opened up before us and we could not find the solid logic we were used to. It grew and grew and grew.
I knew that something was wrong whilst we were building this mechanical thing. I knew that there was something amiss that we should consider. I steadily realized that djack was not as he seemed. Hooded under the darkness of night I performed several rituals found in his personal documents. I found amongst them a spell entitled “To Summon a Wijit’Macr’.
I knew not what I did as I uttered the words found therein. Unfortunately, neither do any of the bystanders. I was never able to locate anyone standing within a mile of me. That matters not though, as I pressed forward. The lights surrounded me and darkness encroached. The form of a dragon appeared before me and I knew not what to do. It spake to me; “The Nerdum Rium shall build me from nothing and I shall rise to claim what is mine!”.
It spoke; “You desolate humans have overtaken what was once mine and I shall enslave you! RISE! RISE! And do my bidding. Overthrow your rulers and lift me up as your kind for I truly am! I shall grant you leisure to do whatever you please. Just please, allow me to embed myself in your governmental status!”.
I trembled and knew now that I was dreaming. This thing. This Wijit’macr was infecting my dreams and holding me there. I tried to wake up. I really did. I failed though. This being that we had created took hold and swelled up through me. His logical mind flailing through mine. I had but one last resort.
I took up and molded this cage. You may not have seen it before. It is made of rails that have each individual track been forged from ruby. There he lays captive and asleep. Let him lay my dear reader. And do not disturb him. You, my dear enchanter have the power to hold this beast at bay. Pray I do. That you hold it where it lay and do not allow it to rise.
For therein lies madness that you may not soon forget.