Heya. This is something I've kept to myself for over thirty years now. My wife passed last spring, and I figured, what's the point anymore. Who's going to come after a seventy-three year old man living alone in Reno. So here I am. From 1987 to 1994, I worked for an agency called Prismatic. You won't find it in any government directory. You won't find anyone who'll admit it existed. But it did. And I was there. I was strictly night shift the entire time. Six PM to six AM, twelve hour rotations, three days on, four days off. Never saw daylight during my working hours, not once in seven years. That was by design. Most of what happened there happened at night, if that makes any sense. They wanted certain personnel kept separate from certain... operations.
The facility was built into the side of a mountain about ninety miles northeast of here. From the outside it looked like an abandoned mining operation. Rusted equipment, condemned signs, the whole setup. But you drove past the third shed, took a service road that wasn't on any map, and there was a checkpoint. Then another. Then an elevator that went down. I was administrative. Logistics, filing, supply chain coordination. Nothing glamorous. I wasn't one of the scientists or the interview specialists. I just made sure the right paperwork went to the right places and that requisition forms got processed. But when you work somewhere like that, you hear things. You see things. Even when you're not supposed to.
They had a being there. That's what we called it. The Being. Never a name, never a species designation that I heard. Just the Being. I never saw it directly. My clearance didn't extend to the containment level. But I processed the interview transcripts. Hundreds of them over the years. And the thing about those transcripts, they weren't like normal interviews. There were no quotation marks. No 'subject said' or 'subject responded.' Because the Being didn't speak. Not with sound. Everything it communicated was done through thought. Pure telepathic transmission. The interviewer would ask a question out loud, and the response would just... appear in their mind. They'd write down what they received. No audio recordings existed because there was nothing to record. Complete silence in that room, every single session. The scientists called it 'direct cognitive interface.' I called it terrifying. But that was the nature of the thing. No mouth, no vocal apparatus, no sound whatsoever. Just thought.
[ Story continues in the full game... ]