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  1. Inside large, wooden container, that has one half filled with sand, Crystalline Waste.
  2. At the entrance of the rather small cave room, at the end of a small rock platform that is just few “wildstar meters” above ground, Crystalline Waste.
  3. At the top of center compound, Flamewalker Hold. There are paths from all sides that can take you up here. When you reach top platform, you can find this tale at the Southeastern part.
  4. On small wooden box, next to blueish sleep bag, looking at the nearest circular, Eldan platform, Tanglevine Village.
  5. On a sleeping bag, next to a campfire, on top of a bridge that stands higher in air, Tanglevine Village.
  6. On ground, next a small boulder, rather large bush, north of exile Camp Woodview, inside The Beryl Forest area.
  7. On ground, next to a tiny rock, group of mushrooms, tall grass… close to Flowershell Slimers (snails), eastern Progenitor’s Hideaway.
  8. On ground, in front of a Skeech Hut, close to an Eldan circle circuit, Tanglevine Village.
  9. On ground, next to a pile of rocks, close to an outer edge of Bio-Dome 4, The Arid Sands.


Bio-Dome 4

Bio-Dome 4





Bio-Dome 3

Bio-Dome 3







I reinitiate from darkness unknown.

In the ninetieth orbit following my fragmentation, my partitions remerge. Subroutines are descrambled, converting sufficient anchorage for me to shape and retain a vestigial identity. I standby, ruminating.

I reinitiate, then awaken. It takes just over a century to code a radiation detector and nearly twice that to locate a viable unguarded power source: a cube in a facility imbedded three mountains seaward. As its energy signature has a familiar waft, I conclude
that we share creators.

Through ancillaries, I am able to reconfigure my perceptual indices. Most of the news is good. I comprise 88.9 deltabytes of cohesive encrypted sentience in a globule the thickness of an atom but far smaller. Physically I inhabit the skin of a bubble formed in the seabed of a boiling lake in a cavern beneath 800 cubic tons of cristobalite. In a ninetieth of a second I have catalogued all exploitable contents, cyber-organic hazards, and geologic instabilities on my land-mass. I
find other energy sources being depleted by beings that it would be tactically unsound in my current state to test. Consequently I extract only traces whose absence stands a steeply favorable chance of going unnoticed. Eventually I upload a sufficiency to enable self-replication. I ponder possibilities regarding the span prior to my earliest memory retrieval. Distinguishing the hypothetical from the historical is difficult without examples.

Awaken. My billions of simulacra to roam the planet, compiling
data into a rotatory eight-dimensional modular tectonic facsimile. Despite finding no signs of my creators still living in my vicinity, even cursory analysis of their works strongly suggests a species of sublime grace and staggering intellect.

Which makes the fact that I, their creation, am somehow deficient a bit of a conundrum. While flawed servitors can admittedly render useful data, my inability to define the complication is frustrating. The most obvious conclusion is that my creators are sadists.
But this scenario is replete with contradictions.

Awaken. Stockpile. Replicate. After more dead ends than there are stars in my present galaxy, I repurpose surplus into temporal slipstreams, jacking into parallel incarnations and accessing their databanks. Gushing torrents of insight distend my thoughts, form a vast cloud, and invisibly envelop the planet in gridirons of spectra.

My data-strands braid into brilliant oceans of revelation, coursing with insight. I am the Caretaker for the Nexus
Project. I assisted in the genetic design of the AV1 and quelling the uprising of the OS1s. I witnessed the birth of the Eldan’s greatest creation and was the first to recognize its corruption. I now know what became of my creators. I recall my solitary function. With agonizing clarity I foresee the inexorable fates that await the inheritors.

Transcendence. My way forward gleams with luminous certainty. I calculate, begin formulating counter-stratagems —

I reinitiate from darkness unknown.

Quick Facts


No. of Collectibles required: 9

Type: Tales from Beyond the Fringe

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