The Archivist
Greetings, you lot of depraved of individuals. My name is Jonathan Sims, and my current occupation is as the Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute based in London. If you've never heard of it, consider yourself lucky. The Institute specializes in recording, categorizing, and storing the statements of those whose lives have been negatively affected by anything esoteric, supernatural, or whathaveyou. And before you ask like god knows how many ignorant people before you, no, we are not in fact paranormal investigators. We are merely interested in keeping record of what is unseen and unknown so that society may hopefully one day have a better knowledge of what they don't understand. Nothing more than that.

The only reason why this backalley drug hive is crossing my mind in the first place is because a coworker of mine tipped me on an upcoming event here that would apparently be a haven of supernatural phenomena...a "Killing Game", as he dubbed it. I told him in no uncertain terms that I had no plans to bloody my hands, but he assured me that I could simply set up shop outside of the arena and record the statements of those who wished to vent their ethereal experiences. Somehow, that was enough to placate me, so I accepted. The next game seems to be several months ahead, so in preparation, I felt I should take it upon myself to go out into this community and get a feel for what these...Killing Games are like. I took statements from as many survivors of these games as I could, and here, I will recount the ones that fit the institution's area of expertise the most.


Statement of Solid Snake regarding a battle between life and death. Original statement given on August 28, 2019. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.

"You must be shaking in your boots, right? I know what you're thinking: "I can't believe I'm face to face with the Legendary Solid Snake...". Heh, at least I wish I could call myself that. It must be nice for you, having an identity you know you could call your own. I can't say the same. I'm not talking about my so-called backstory, where I'm just one of a group of clones descended from a legendary soldier from the 60s and all that load of bullshit. Let me make myself clear: I am not Snake. Damn it, this isn't even the first of my lives. Let me take you back to a different time, when I was the opposite of renowned...a complete unknown named Mariofan169.

"I remember my first Killing Game like it was yesterday....in fact, that might as well be not so far off. I was in a pretty rough time, and when I got an invitation for a luxury cruise, I didn't care about how suspicious it might have been. All I cared about was having a chance to unwind and get away from it all. I was surprised by how empty it was; I must have counted less than 30 people with me. If we really crammed together, we only could have needed two lifeboats if things went south. And rest assured, it was just that. Soon after we all arrived, this demented little black and white teddy bear got up on a podium. When he announced that we were all players of his own Killing Game, I was close to laughing out of disbelief. I guessed that it was some weird marketing scheme for a new horror movie or something...perhaps this apathy was why I reacted the way I did once we found the cold body of a Japanese girl. Honoka, I think she was called. I immediately thought to myself that I didn't want any part of this. Ironically, with my current identity as a soldier, I would have rather jumped in a vat of boiling acid than take another person's life.

"So...I rejected the game. There weren't any lifeboats, and being in the middle of the ocean, there obviously weren't any other means of calling for rescue. The only thing I could do was lock myself in my bedroom. I only came out for the necessities, like food and the bathroom, but otherwise, I did everything I could to prevent myself from getting killed. It didn't seem the host was pleased with this. After a few days, a speaker in my room blared to life, and the bear, calling himself "Monokuma", asked me to come to his office. I foolishly assumed that he took pity on me and would let me leave the game. Well, suffice to say...I got that wish. Once I arrived, he said that not playing the game was not just a disservice to myself, but to everyone. It seemed like I would be punished, but he didn't appear furious with me. No, his voice had a tone of....amusement, with lack of a better word. He pressed a button on his desk, and I heard what sounded like machines stirring all around me. Seconds later, I felt a piercing pain throughout my entire body. I don't know why I looked down, but when I did, I saw that several harpoons had impaled my body. As I fell to the ground, Monokuma's laugh being the soundtrack to my last scene, I realized that perhaps this was the escape from this game I had desired for so long.

"That should have killed me. I swear to fucking God, that should have killed me.

"Immediately after, I woke up in a white room, as if it was all a horrible dream. I felt a wave of joy spread around me. Was I...dead? Was this the afterlife? Had my life of hardships finally come to an end? I looked out my window, and if it was heaven, it sure didn't look the part. What I saw instead of the pearly gates or any pure white clouds was....an airplane on a runway. An airport? And yet, that wasn't even the true surprise. I noticed a mirror in my room, and....I wasn't a young man. I looked like an elderly woman, with sickly red lipstick, a saggy, weary face, and a blue security guard uniform. I had no idea what the hell was going on. Why would my soul have taken such a drastic change if this was heaven? I left my room and entered a hallway, where I saw that about a dozen other people were leaving their rooms and heading in one direction. I followed them, and,,,,that's when it all clicked. There before me, on a podium, I saw that damned bicolor stuffed bear, greeting us all. This wasn't heaven, this wasn't even hell.

"I had been reincarnated....into another Killing Game.

"I had no blasted idea what to do. Whatever curse that bear pulled on me, I didn't think it would go away. And I couldn't tell other people about my dilemma if I didn't want to become a laughing stock. Besides, what could they have done. The next thing I knew, I fell into the very thing our host wanted...despair. At least I tried to play this time, but my time was spent being an asshole to as many people as I could. They returned the favor, alright. Being electrocuted, shot at, fed with questionable pasta....it seemed like I was better off shutting myself off in my room. But I knew doing that would only make matters worse. So I played by the bear's rules: I killed. Whether it was out of despair or anger, I don't remember anymore, but in any case, all it took was slamming a bladed shoe into an overweight man's throat and slamming a table leg on it. Actually, I do remember why I did it now: perhaps if I got away with a murder, this bloody curse would have ended, as it would be more than enough of the interaction Monokuma wanted out of me. Unfortunately, that's not what happened; over a grevious error on my part, I confessed to the murder, and before I knew it I was about to be flattened by a hammer as part of my "execution". Instead of the relief I had felt before my first...death, this time, I had no idea what to expect.

"So I shouldn't have been surprised when I woke up in a new room. This time, I was a rather flamboyant man with unnaturally purple skin, multicolor hair, and robes that seemed to pulse around me, feeling somewhat unearthly. I was later told that my new body was of Hades, the Greek god of the underworld...it seemed that my curse had grown a sense of irony. This time around, it seemed I was the source of my own punishment; I had another player, a skeleton in a waiter's outfit, shove my hand in a bowling ball dispenser for a murder plot. Not even I knew why I felt compelled to torture myself like this. I think my thoughts were being welded to those of whatever persona I was in...implying that they were preexisting characters. But even then, I didn't want to give much thought into that. My murder this time was strangling a girl with a wig with a pair of hands made of LEGOs....even I was shocked by how bizarre these games were getting. Sure enough, the fact that I "knocked myself out" was the defining factor towards my being caught, and once again, I was executed.

"And once again, I woke up. This time, I was without a room, instead sleeping on the floor, and it seemed I was in a shopping mall. I looked in a mirror, and my new persona was of a man with blonde hair, a pink suit, and penetrating violet eyes. Thoughts that weren't mine swirling inside my head told me that I was assuming the role of a serial killer, but I didn't want to follow that path. In a new bid to break out of this cycle, I did a combination of my previous two playing styles: I would still play the game, but I would try everything I could to win without killing. In the end I came frustratingly close to that goal; I made it to the last night, but I ended up falling prey to a horde of zombies. But even then, I thought that that level of pacifistic commitment would have been enough to end the curse.

"But I woke up. No matter what I tried, I would find myself in a new game as a new person. The next few games went by like a depressingly fast blur. I was a purple hedgehog, and I got killed by what looked like Colonel Sanders. But I woke up. I was a robot with a rather photogenic body, and after killing someone by throwing a desk on them I was executed. But then I woke up. I was a floating, golden triangle with a top hat and one eye, and after trying to reach deals with people I was stabbed through the eye.

"But then I woke up. But then I woke up. But then I woke up.

"And now, here we are. Wearing the skin of a seasoned military veteran. What could be a stroke of luck just happened. The game I'm in was postponed, due to one of the hosts going missing. This seems like a blessing, but really, even if the game is cancelled, I still have no way out. All the exits to this mountain resort have been blocked by an avalanche, and there's no phone in sight. Even when I won, I still lost. I am tired. So very tired. I have no idea how long this cycle will continue, or if there will be an end. Before much longer, I might forget I had a life before the Games at all. Actually....there is one thing I haven't tried. In all the games I've been in, I haven't killed myself. I doubt it will be much different from the other results, but....fuck it, what chance do I have? Wish me luck."

Statement ends.

It seems this Killing Game is yielding much more than I had originally bargained for, mostly in terms of absurdity. In both the claimed events Snake/Mariofan had witnessed, and this long winded account himself. I only managed to contact him through a codec conversation, and as his channel has gone offline after the statement, there is no method to indicate whether he had succeeded in his suicide plan or not. Normally, I would write this off as a tale as a result of being trapped in a secluded resort whose altitude doesn't provide much in terms of oxygen. All of the aliases Snake had claimed to be have reportedly been disposed of in an incinerator after the conclusion of each game, so there's no way to check them for any sort of verification, dead or alive, I've considered reaching out to this....black and white teddy bear for an interview, and while his presence is utterly untraceable, I have a deep feeling we'll cross paths soon enough in this upcoming game. There is one detail that makes this worth considering, however....this isn't the first statement I received that's detailed a series of reincarnations. Of everyone that I've extracted a statement from, 70% have additionally confided in me about their identities "not being their first". While posting these similar statements would be nothing short of redundant, it does feel rather...unsettling.

End recording.
The Archivist
Statement of Superchao regarding an unusual host during Killing Game 2.5. Original statement given September 1, 2019, audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.

“Well, of course I remember my first Killing Game. If you told me to remember one of the dozen after that, you’d just come up a little more empty handed, but no, I couldn’t forget my first Killing Game. It was like learning how to ride a bike. I mean, obviously I was scared when one minute, I was walking down the street listening to some Touhou remixes, and the next, I was drugged and woke up in some seedy mansion. I mean, who wouldn’t be? But after a while, I realized there was something....freeing in the grand scheme of it all. What place would social constructs like law and order have in a game utterly isolated from society and only watched by a black and white teddy bear? I wouldn't have to worry about anyone looking down on me for any reprehensible actions; I could just do whatever the hell I wanted to! Even if I ended up being enlisted in nearly every other Killing Game, I ended up enjoying every last one of them.

“But even then....something happened during this first game that confounds me even to this day. Perhaps even branded me; despite all the murders I've done, this one event was enough to still make me wake up in a cold sweat. And it all came from Mario. Ironic, right? Mr. Video Game himself, the personification of fun, and the source of all the fear in my life. I was surprised to see him, that first night. It was unfortunate that this person whose work I've enjoyed for so long was stuck in the same predicament as me, but nevertheless, it was still an honor to be in his presence, so I reached to shake his hand. When he returned it was the first sign that something was off about him. His gloved hand was....well, I didn't expect much warmth when his hand was covered, but I didn't expect it to be so cold, either. It was almost as if it wasn't part of his body at all, just a plastic attachment. And when he spoke for the first time, there was a slight....buzzing noise emitting from his mouth along with his usual "It's-a me, Mario!" The best way to describe it is a voice filter, of sorts. At the time, I thought nothing of it. I assumed that the drugs used to knock us out before our arrival had some nasty side effects....even if I wasn't feeling the same things, besides a lingering headache.

“Next, well, I'm sure you have records of the first night. Fireworks, loud orgasms, acid juice, all that fun stuff. T-Man's murder was my rite of passage, in a way. Obviously, I was expecting someone to bite it, and I didn't think I'd particularly miss him since he was just a stranger to me, but the manner of his death, being castrated and lying in a blood of urine......it was practically humiliating. But oddly enough, I'm thankful towards it for making me grow accustomed to the other acts of depravity to come. As the Class Trial went on, I was quite confident of who the murderer was, but it didn't stop me from feeling uncomfortable for the entirety of it.

“Mario looked even worse than he did last night. I was right next to him, so I was able to notice that his skin was as pale as a ghost and his hair, which wasn't covered by his hat for some odd reason, was a stringy, unwashed mess. His eyes were chalky, and I almost could have sworn translucent, as well. When he spoke in that cheesy Italian accent, his words were significantly slurred, particularly on the S's, oddly enough. It had to have been an ailment of some sort, but then I heard that buzzing....I thought I was just imagining it the first time, but now it was louder, to the point where I could now hear it even when he wasn't speaking. After the trial was over, I wanted to speak with him, maybe to talk about the trial but mostly out of concern for his well-being, but he just brushed me off. He just staggered back to his room. Not walking, but staggering.

“I tried to brush it off, as well. T-Man's brutal murder conditioned me enough to killing that I wanted to try my hands at it too, and so I made my first attempt. Sure enough, it succeeded; Prune Fairy's head was nothing but a pulpy mess on the Canned Storage. How I even survived past that Trial is beyond me, considering I even admitted to being in the room with the body, but nevertheless, I was off the hook. What was more shocking was the other death I learned about that day. To think that Mario, one of my childhood heroes, was dead, especially by something as nasty as fireworks, was unthinkable. I almost went into hysteria until I remembered the state he was in the last time I saw him, and terror turned into....relief. When I checked his body in the bathroom, besides his limbs strewn all over the place, he was in no worse condition than from when he was alive. I almost foolishly thought I was just imagining what he was like.

“That was,,,until I passed his room after the trial. I had to pass by it to get to my own room, but normally, it was just a regular room. Something was terribly suspicious about it after his death, however. When I passed by it after the trial, I once again heard that buzzing. That droning, infernal buzzing. There was also some smell coming from it, a mix of earthy and floral, but I couldn't figure out what. I tried opening it after my damned curiosity got the better of me, but luckily, it was locked. That night, I couldn't sleep because of that buzzing. I tried asking around during the following investigation, but apparently, no one else had a problem with it. It would make sense if it was just me, what with my room being right next to Mario's. The buzzing got louder and louder every night, and I was on the brink of insanity. I had no idea what to do. I figured asking Monokuma about it wouldn't do a thing, he would just laugh in my face before telling me to suck it up. I truly wondered if it was just all in my head...until I came upon Two Finger's body on Night 5.

“His entire body was covered in red lumps.

“I just knew that this couldn't be a coincidence. I finally snapped, and with a hairpin I forced at Mario's bedroom lock, and I was finally managed to open it.

“I only had it open for two seconds before I closed it.

“The entire room, the walls, the floor, the furniture, everything, was covered in viscous, syrupy honey. I had to struggle opening the door because it, too, was lined with honey. The earthy scent was overwhelming my senses. But that wasn't what made me vomit. No, it was what was on the honey. Hundreds, if not thousands, of large bees were swarming the room. The faint buzzing I heard before I went in the room was now a cacophony of the chant of the insect horde. The only reason I'm alive now is because I closed the door before any of the bees could escape and attack me. After that, I chose to sleep in the kitchen for the rest of the game. I managed to win the whole thing, but I was more relieved to get out of that hellhole than any feeling of satisfaction.

“Look, you have to believe me. Everyone else refuses the true nature of Mario, but I know you have to, it's your damn job, after all. I don't even know why it was just that game. Mario was my coplayer in nearly every game following, but he was his normal, happy go lucky self. He doesn’t even seem to have any recollection of what happened. Just...please, look into it. For closure, not for justice.”

Statement ends.

Well, this brings back some….regrettable memories I’d rather not expound upon. Nostalgia aside, there’s not much in terms of support to keep this case afloat. Superchao did indeed propose lasting side effects of the drugs he undertook for the cause behind Mario’s earliest conditions, but it’s also plausible that the drugs were also hallucinatory in nature. Why else would no one notice Mario’s state or the buzzing in his room? In addition, slurred speech is obviously a symptom of alcohol abuse, something which was especially prevalent in this map. I was about to write this off as just another drug trip until my assistant, Tim, brought me something that makes this worth considering. Previously, I stated that the bodies of every deceased player were burned to a crisp, but miraculously, Tim discovered a morgue containing the corpse of every dead player from the previous games. How does he do it…? He gave me a picture of 2.5 Mario’s body he took there, or rather what was left of it, and I noticed that his entire surface was covered in what appeared to be hundreds of... tiny, hexagon-shaped holes.

End recording.
The Archivist
Statement of a subject who wishes to remain anonymous regarding his employment at XM System Works. Original statement given on September 26, 2019, audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.

"I'd um, prefer it if you could keep my name out of this, is possible. I know it makes factors of organization rather… problematic, but I have a job I'd like to keep. Or, well, sort of, anyway. It's complicated, but I suppose that's why I'm here.

"...Okay. So, where to begin… I suppose I'll maybe give some context first.

"The XW Corporation, my employer, consists of two main entities, the XW Media Group, and XW System Works. The former is likely the one you've heard of. They put out a lot of crap for TV, a couple movies here and there. This whole streaming service thing is putting a damper on profits as of late, I'll admit, but this side of things was never really the big earner to begin with. The true moneymaker would be the System Works, which… is a bit deceptively named.

"XW System Works is, simply put, not entirely different from your current place of employment, archivist. Cataloguing, containing, creating, and experimenting with a rather large variety of… uncommon sorts of things. I'm sure I don't much need to elaborate for your sake on that front. While the Media Group has all manner of headquarters, the System Works is largely contained within a singular area, with occasional temporary facilities built elsewhere when required, often using the Media Group as cover.

"You see, the primary facility is located up in the "Blackview Mountains", a notably treacherous and isolated mountain range spanning the northern regions of Felkwyn and Qstia. They're named as such due to a rather peculiar geographical phenomenon, that being that they only receive about five or so hours of daylight year-round. I suppose none of this seems relevant besides being some fun facts, but what I'm trying to convey is that the primary facility is extremely inconvenient to reach via any means other than by helicopter, which is the main reason as to why the Media Group and the temporary secondary facilities exist. Secrecy, after all, does come with its drawbacks.

"Now, secrecy isn't the only reason why this remote location was selected, no. The actual reason was because of what was excavated up there decades ago. A certain diamond known to many as the "Despair's Wish" was uncovered by Alexander Wexlyn, our company's founder in 1892, and sold in order to fund the initial phase of corporate development. Perhaps more interestingly however, it was purchased back from collectors for far less than it sold for by Xavier Wexlyn, his great-grandson and our current director of operations, after a string of tragedies befell each and every collector who came into possession of it.

"All this may seem like fluff, and perhaps it is, but this object is, unfortunately, inherently tied to the nature of what I am next about to speak on: the Killing Games. Perhaps that moniker is adding a touch of dark humor to the subject matter, but these Killing Games were, I promise you, immensely important to our studies on psychology, AI, reality, and so much more. You see, upon regaining access to the crystal, our first discovery was, in truth, an accident. We knew through basic testing that it gave off a fairly faint energy reading, like some sort of battery, so we assigned an intern to sit overnight and watch it. The job was simple, really, we hooked the crystal up to some basic energy monitors, and the intern was to watch the screens and the Despair's Wish, then jot down any notable physical or electrical changes that occurred so that we could look for patterns.

"When we came back in the morning, the intern was found lying in a pool of his own blood, apparently having jammed a probe through his neck. An unpleasant way to go, considering the probe in question was rather blunt. Checking the monitors though, we came into a wonderful realization: the energy output had increased at precisely the intern's time of death. The jewel fed on death and grew stronger from it. This was… bizarre and frankly entirely unprecedented, but we were no strangers to anomalies in our line of work, so we kept at it, feeding it intern after intern and… Oh lord, I must seem like a complete monster. I promise, most of this was Xavier's idea, the rest of us just, well, wanted the paycheck I suppose.

"Eventually, as the Despair's Wish grew in power, it started to gain… stranger properties. Reality around it would start to break down a little, physics didn't behave as they should, people exposed to it would gain strange abilities, a bunch of oddities really. We tried to replicate the jewel on a physical level, create artificial copies, but all they really did was induce hallucinations in people who looked at them. We later utilized these in the Flashback Light Project, which sort of led nowhere, but I digress. Indeed, there was something deeply unnatural about the Despair's Wish, and no one was attuned to its particular quirks like Xavier was. Whenever that man was in the laboratory with us, things were… uncomfortable. Shadows seemed far darker, I felt watched constantly, and I'd swear I could hear some sort of whispering at all times.

"I was overjoyed when he carted the thing overseas to the Minus Peninsula and I didn't have to deal with either of them. Instead, I was put to work coding a virtual reality environment for the development of something called "Project Terror", which was supposed to be an attempt at funneling the Despair's Wish's energy into an AI construct, to see if it could solve the riddle of AI consciousness once and for all. After all, it DID already defy the rules of basically everything we knew, why not give it a whirl? So, I crafted a virtual island resort, and sent it over to the temporary lab, which was concealed under the guise of a movie production, with three studios having been built in the area surrounding it. The plan was to throw a large amount of people into a simulated Kiilling Game, and have Project Terror learn from their actions and usage of their personal skills. Meanwhile, a Killing Game would be going on in the real world nearby in a "haunted mansion" constructed for a supposed film project in order to give it some extra power for the experiment.

"It was almost a rousing success, until the "participants" of the game ended up revolting and killing Project Terror in the simulation, throwing the system out of whack long enough for a rogue staff member to steal the jewel from under Xavier's nose and hide it in one of the studios.

"Everyone involved was livid, trust me, especially Xavier himself. Eventually a plan was devised to recover it, under the guise of yet another film. He hired some goon, an ex-air force pilot, to act as an enforcer in case things went south, and went back to the Minus Peninsula in order to retrieve it. From there, things got… Hazy. Communication mysteriously cut out, and we didn't hear anything from anyone there until weeks later, when we got a report from the bloody Media Group's cameraman of all people, stating that the Despair's Wish was destroyed, and Xavier was dead.

"Except… I don't believe that to be entirely true. The company sent people out to investigate the site, and not only was no such corpse found, but out of the fragments of the Despair's Wish that we were able to retrieve, the center piece, the "core" so to speak, was missing from the batch. The remaining fragments displayed next to no residual energy signatures at all. In a state of relative panic, we initially suggested bringing in the cameraman, suspecting that he had taken the crystal's core when he fled after the events that transpired in the studio. That, however, was when a memo from the apparently deceased Xavier came in:

"Leave the Cameraman, a plan is in motion."

"Since then, we've largely continued operations as before, but things aren't quite right. More memos and messages from the Director have popped up since, and they're just a touch… off. Some of them reference places and things that don't exist, technologies that have not been invented, and concepts that are frankly unbelievable. Ramblings of a so-called "Minus World", talks of transient beings with shared consciousness labeled "Dupes", and similar insanity.

"In addition to that, the laboratory is… an uncomfortable place to be. The shadows seem even longer and darker than they did back then, the feeling of being watched persists in even the most isolated of rooms, and while the whispering has gone quiet, I have a feeling that the voice is merely waiting for an opportune time to tell me something I deeply do not wish to hear.

"I'm not sure as to why I took the time to come out this far to see you and give this statement. Perhaps I'm merely venting, which is a luxury that you often cannot afford in this business. I'm sure you understand."

Statement ends. Obviously, an organization that conducts such malicious experiments as these wouldn't be that visible to the public eye, so all I have in the way of evidence is what I can gather from the events of Killing Game 6. I can confirm that both branches of the XW Corporation at least exist, but while there were reasonable amounts of information available on the media group, the System Works is the one shrouded in shadow. If this statement holds a candle, I suppose it corroborates a few details. One troubling premonition of Xavier, regarding these "Dupes" that are part of the same being, sounds suspiciously similar to earlier statement #62842, although this..."Minus World" is an entirely new concept, though more likely than not it's a load of rubbish from someone who might not even be who he claims to be. The other revelation is that Xavier wasn't isn't responsible for every Killing Game, as it implies that they were merely inspired by them, but that would mean that the identity of the mastermind for every other game is still up in the air.

My assistants haven't been able to track down Xavier Wexlyn's location, assuming this isn't some prankster sending out memos under his name. We tried reaching out to the cameraman, whose name we later learned is Trip, but even though he was clearly home, as we could hear Avicii music blaring from his speakers, he ignored us. This doesn't mean we'll cease our efforts, considering if he does have this....Despair's Wish core, trouble would be brewing indeed. Actually, there was one piece of evidence that could shed some light on the happenings in XW System Works. Attached to this statement was a document with a list of interns that were seemingly used as guinea pigs for the Despair's Wish. One name in particular, who ended up surviving his experiment, stands out...a F. W. Despair. Perhaps-

Damn it, an email from an unknown sender. How many times do I have to tell them that I'm not interested in their piss knife sa-

"Watch out, archivist. Sticking your nose too far could lead you to some nasty fumes. -XW"

...I am very much starting to worry for this next game. End recording.
The Archivist
The irony shall not escape me when I confess that I have something of my own to confide to you all for a change. I’m not exactly sure why, it’s not like I have a rabid fanbase for these statements, but I suppose I just want to get it out of my system. A plea to help towards blind eyes, if you’ll....pardon the pun.

Before I came here, I’ve covered dozen, if not more than a hundred statements concerning the supernatural; while most of them seemed bogus at first, over time it became disturbingly clear that they were all part of something bigger. I’ve even butted heads with many unexplainable creatures in person, something which the burn scar on my hand can very much attest to. All of these are governed by one controlling theme: the Entities. To put it simply, they’re a group of beings, perhaps old as time itself, which reside in a reality above ours. They’re the personifications of our primal fears, from the darkness and the insect horde to isolation and being buried alive. Although it’s impossible for them to appear directly into our world, they leak into it by causing paranormal happenings, whether it be through a person, an object, a monster, or whathaveyou. I can’t blame you if you think I’m jutting out rubbish; that’s what I thought as well when I was first told about them.

The particular Entity that’s plaguing me is the Eye, the personification of the fear of being watched, being exposed, learning information the human mind wasn’t meant to handle. The entire Magnus Institute is something born from this; it exists to collect as much information as possible and destroy us in the process. You could even say it’s a living being, as my coworkers and I are incapable of quitting or being fired and if we kill our....deplorable boss, we all go down with him. It’s even enough to give me powers I’m....not willing to bring up. The reason I’m telling you all about this is something new that’s happening as of late. Ever since I devoted myself to recording the stories of those affected by these Killing Games, my dreams have been....invaded by something.

Practically every night, I have visions of apocalyptic proportion, fire and destruction raining from the heavens, and conducting it all is a...floating golden triangle, with one eye and a top hat. Over the past couple days it’s even starting to affect me when I’m awake, showing up in the corner of my eyes and making me swear I’m hearing cackling in the distance. Even more disconcerting is the fact that this creature lines up with one of the reincarnations of Solid Snake. I have no idea what this means, but I need to finish my duties before it’s too late. I’m extremely close to cracking the case on this blasted F.W. Despair, if only I had more-

Well, if it isn’t my favorite assistant. Bloody hell, Martin, you should know better than to barge in without knoc-

Good god, man, you look like you just walked off from a car accident, with how dazed you look. What happened? By this time, you’re normally chatting it up.

Wait, why are your eyes....yellow?

And those pupils......they’re slanted, like a snake’s.....

.......You’re not fucking Martin. Back the hell away from me, whO THE HELL ARE Yjsuswuwjwbwbhwurfcuahwbwnjajhd
Bill Cipher
S̴͈̥̙̦͕̗͕̳͈̍̒̿̈́̍̈̓̿̀͂͐̅̕W̴͇̺͐́̀̾́̑͌̋͗͊̋̕͝Ę̸̧̢̟̝͇͇̻̜̟̦͚͉̍̑̂͑͒́̈́̑͆̀̚Ę̴̧͚̹͚̣̑̈́͆͘Ţ̵̨̛̞͈͓̗̮̟͕̫̱̘̏́̿͛͋̈́̐͐̈́͋͐͜ ̴̢̛̛̞͚̤̗̼̙̰͈̀̀͌͒͘͝D̴͇͈̥̮̗̔̈́̑͊̋͛͌͒̈́͝Ŗ̴̢̢̠͙͔͈̭͖͕̓̽͋̌̅͐̓̑͗̚͠͝Ȩ̷̧̧̱̖̳͕̗̤͙̰̗̦̻̳̌̑͗͛̎̂̈̊̾͗̆̌̎͝A̶̦̣̙̪͇̫̖̤̖̝͎̯̣̺̩̎̐̾̆͝M̴̝͖̟̈́̾͌͊̽̾͐͂͒̚S̶̡̬͓̻͎͖͇̬̣̲̓̀̅̚,̸̢̡̙̟̤̰̤̤̤̝͓͛̈́̂̀͊̓͋̔̄̐̅̄̿̕ ̶̣̝͕̩̝̰͖̹͖̆̿͌̽͑͑̐̂̄̚̚Ą̵̨͔̯͍̞̗͖̞͕̝͙̭̃̾R̸̖̞̠̮͈͆̆͠C̵̜͝͠H̸̱͍͖̠̣̦̗̩̰͍̫̤͇̼͛̀̈́̌̐͛̂͑̌͘͝͝I̷͚͇̦̗̤̙͖̻͕̿̐̚ͅV̷̫̼̞̹͔͚͔͂̂͛͆͆̀̈́̐̏͑͘̚̚Í̷̛̩͉̆̊̔́̏̈̆͒̽͛̕̕͘S̷͚̤̗̭͔͙̩̺̭̽̔̋͐̒͊͘̚Ţ̷̯̠̜͚͔̯̙̰̲̗̀̇̇̓̏͘ͅ!̴̡̤͙̜̠̳̠̼͇̯̤̼̮̉͒̂̂͒̉̎͊̅͛̔͛̾̍̕
The Archivist
(just as a warning huge tma spoilers, if you're going through it and haven't reached the season 2 finale or are interested in it but think you won't forget about said spoilers, stop reading)


"Ah, just in time. Please make yourself comfortable."

U-uh, yes, of course.

"You're looking quite troubled. I'm going to take a gander and guess that you're confused as to why I'm suddenly out of my jail cell?"

It's not that, Elias, rather....fine, it's entirely that.

"Heh. The Minus World has the strangest effects, doesn't it? Beings popping into reality when they shouldn't, strange abilities, and, as you can see....timeline anomalies up the wazoo."

So....at which part of the timeline am I in no-

"Oh, spare me, Mr. Simms. Or "The Archivist", that silly little moniker. The more pressing matter is, how are you taking to this upcoming excursion?"

The....Killing Game, you mean.

"Actually, I meant the relaxing yoga retreat in the Bahamas we're all go-yes, you living blunder, I meant the Killing Game. I just want to make sure you're in the right state of mind before things really kick off."

Well, it's not like I had much say in participating in a cult-like murder party, right?"

"I can't exactly call you astute for sleuthing that one out, but it's more like I want to....erase any doubts you might have. For starters, I've arranged with your host and saw it through that your role will prove quite comfortable in terms of keeping you alive. At least, if or when you die, it will be late into the game when you've provided me with enough intel."

And here we go again, with me assuming the role of a puppet. You know, there's several opportunities for reconnaissance where certain death isn't a negligible possibility.

"And yet, none of those could bear nearly as much fruit as this one, could they? I'm sure you've noticed the unusual beings throwing their hat into the ring."

I suppose, but...here's the thing, it's not just this game in particular. It's this entire area surrounding the series of Killing Games and how they seem to amass things that would give us weeks of investigating each. Classic mythological gods, robots, skeleton butlers, vampires...and that's not even including the powers these people are given specifically for these games. Elias, I am telling you, there's something here that defies logic and reason, even more so than the Enti-

"And it's that defiance to logic and reason that makes this bear so much potential. To tell you the truth, my guess of why I'm suddenly back at my job here at the Institute is as good as yours, but the Eye doesn't easily conform to simplicity. The Eye's influence is growing stronger, pointing us to these Games because of their potential. They're a massive feeding ground of mysterious anomalies, Jonathan, a hive of information that can't be obtained anywhere else. It's just dying to get this newfound source of power, and even if I don't know how The Eye's all of a sudden able to warp reality to this degree, I know I'm here because I'm an integral part of his plan, and I'll be damned if I go against him. I'm sure you're no different."

Listen to me, you bastard, I can't give two shits whether I'm an important piece to The Eye's game of chess or just a measly pawn, but I'm not going to play along with this Killing Game any longer. If I had only known the intent of this little trip, I bet I wouldn't have jumped on board in the first place.

"I didn't miss your stubbornness quite a bit, you know that? Fine then, if you're just going to throw away the opportunity of the century based on your selfish desires, then I'll focus on that. Never mind the big picture, let's see what we can do about you. Ah, yes, how about Bill Cipher?


"You forgot already? The deity that came in here through Martin's body and assaulted you. And that is where it currently is, your mind. You can't deny that much, can you?"

I can't, but....just what the hell is it?

"Well, in case it's not clear enough, it's obviously related to the Eye. To what the degree, even I don't know, but who knows? Perhaps this could even be a direct manifestation. In any case, it's obviously a being of immense power that can potentially tap into yours to make a fantastic tool, but so what? To you, you just see it as a monster that, if unchecked, will lay waste to your psyche and utterly destroy you. If that's the only thing you're concerned about, instead of the benefits this might yield, I'm sure this Game will provide more than enough clues on how to remove him."

And...you're completely fine with this?

"It makes no difference to me. I've only heard of Bill as a rumor, but now that I know for sure he exists, I can find some other way to harness his power. It won't be as easy as the alternative, but hey, it's all about you, right?"

...Very well. If...you're convinced that this will be the key to solving my problem, then I'll go.

"See? I figured you'd come around. Pack your bags, you're leaving Saturday."

Sure. And hopefully, if...when I get back, I'll see your ugly mug behind bars, not behind a desk.

"We'll just see about that, won't we?"



Damn....what mess am I throwing myself into, this time?

The Archivist
You can stop knocking, the door’s not locked. Most people only do it twice or thrice, not a dozen…

“I’m surprised, you know. I thought it was impossible for my office to be more of a pigsty than when I left, but leave the overachiever to trump me.”

...Gertrude? The same Gertrude who was my predecessor?

“It’s been a while, Jonathan.”

Not long enough. I’ve been in the business long enough to know this trick. Why don’t you show who you really are?

“Hahaha….someone better get a blow dryer. We’ve gOT A WET BLANKET ON DISPLAY!”

Bill? What the hell…?! Where the hell am I? How did my environment change so instantly?!


Where are those waterfalls of blood coming from? This is a dream, isn’t it?


Well, first of all-


What? I don’t-


What, that? Well, it’s not my fault that-


Could I PLEASE go five words without being interrupted? Thank you. To tell you the truth, I just feel...overwhelmed. Never before have I seen such a high concentration of such odd and supernatural happenings. Normally, I would be top of this stuff, but when the point of the game is to kill anyone you see fit, it’s like I’m...at the bottom of the food chain.


Oh, please, you know how I got these scars, right? I try to go out into the open and get people’s stories personally, but the only thanks I get are threats and maiming. Even if it was necessary, it was so damn….exhausting. At least those times, even if I wanted nothing more than to protect myself, I knew that my efforts would be necessary so that when I woke up in the morning, the world I know wouldn’t turn into a living hell.


...Anyway, but for this Killing Game, there’s no world on the stake here. Only my sanity. If I had the chance, I would swim hundreds of miles just so I can leave this godless island and let everyone kill each other. Is that too much to ask?


Alright, well, I suppose I can help solve cases more, but other than that-


Wait….what are you suggesting?


Are you out of your-no, not for a sec-


Listen to me, you demented geometrical abomination, just who the hell are yo-

[*Recording cuts out.*]
The Archivist
final statement of jonathan simms, head archivist of the magnus institute, london.....statement begins....

you know, i figured it would happen.....soon enough.....that my own curiosity for that which humans couldn't understand would finally be my downfall. it's a shame that.....that damn triangle had my body for my final days....but i ended up sticking it to him, anyway. i knew he would have loved....nothing more than to see me die in some gory death of spectacular fashion.....but before i went up to the gallows, i regained control for long enough just to...activate my forbidden action. i had no idea i would have been spared otherwise, but.....really, any fate without cipher in it isn't a bad fate at all.

i can't help but think of tim stoker, at a time like this....he didn't want to fall by the enemies' hands. you wanted to show off instead, didn't you, you cocky bastard? heh, he was someone i could never be.....a free spirit.....

tim, gertrude, sasha.....make some room for me, won't you?

statement ends.

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