After I aired. The field logs in episode 10.
I thought things might quiet down.
They didn't. Three days later.
A new tape. Arrived.
This one was clean, deliberate, like she had been waiting for
the right moment to send it. No return address, no note.
Just a black. Cassette and a Gray case, the
only marking a single symbol etched into the plastic.
Angular, recursive, almost fractal.
Nothing I'd seen before. The audio quality.
Was clearer than any of. The field logs like it had been.
Recorded in isolation, not in a war zone.
The. Voice.
It's hers. The engineer?
The one who? Built the tools if the field
logs were. Documentation.
This tape feels. Like something else, A
reckoning. The idea was simple.
If they can see us through the veil, then we can reach through
it too. We called it resonance Phase
tethering, a way to bind field geometry to stable reference
points in local cognition. Think of it like anchoring a
boat in a storm of consciousness.
The first success came when we stabilized a symbol array during
a hyper dream state Tier 2 penetration.
It responded. I don't mean metaphorically.
Something behind the veil reacted to the structure like a
mirror twitching before it breaks.
That was the first proof and the last time we thought we could
control it. We built a defensive
architecture using recursive negation fields.
The idea was to disrupt symbol recognition, their interface
with our cognition. But it backfired.
One of the mirrors, it didn't reflect anymore, it reached.
We called it a mirror spike when it appeared.
We lost 2 subjects in 0.7 seconds.
No trace, no memory residue, just blank psychic space.
I started having dreams after that.
I was in a hallway with no doors.
My reflection wouldn't move. Then it spoke.
You're building keys to the wrong door.
Project Silhouette classified it as category 5 cognitive assault,
but to us it was just the noise. We found that certain frequency
symbol overlaps, specifically recursive vowels embedded in
geometric progression could disrupt Vale entity proximity,
like throwing sand in the Gears of a machine.
We built the first active defence array, the gorse mind
wall. It pulsed waves of fractalized
symbols into Vale adjacent space.
For 42 seconds we were undetectable.
The silence was beautiful, but something else found us.
It wasn't a warden. It wasn't even from our
recursion. It spoke in a language I didn't
know but understood. Humans aren't the only prisoners
in this system. Something else is trying to
breakthrough. After the mind wall test, the
frequencies began to change. We weren't broadcasting.
Something else was tuning us. We traced the resonance spike to
coordinates outside human geometry.
Not symbolic, not numerical. It came in pulses, a kind of
intention more than signal. The team began to fracture. 1
researcher carved a spiral into his own eye.
Another couldn't stop writing the same glyph in blood.
I stayed because I wanted to know what was listening.
We called it RFC, Recursive Signal Vectoring, a prototype of
veil adjacent weaponry. It operated not by force, but by
recursion inversion, making the entity recognize itself as an
anomaly. It worked once.
The warden shattered. Not destroyed.
Shattered into time, into memory.
I've seen fragments of it in people's dreams.
It's not gone. It's distributed.
But the cost, I think we pierced something above their chain.
After the breach, I began to feel watched.
Not by the wardens, not by mirrors, by something that had
been asleep. They came two weeks later.
Not entities, men, suits I didn't recognize.
Badges with redacted names, no Insignia.
They already knew about the RSV breach.
They didn't ask for my research, they asked how far I'd gone,
what I'd seen. They weren't afraid of the Vale,
they were afraid of what might come through it, One of them
whispered before leaving. You're not supposed to be
building ladders, you're supposed to reinforce the cage.
That's when I knew the Vale isn't just hiding the truth,
it's hiding us from something worse.
I built one last prototype. A weapon, a beacon, a message.
I don't know anymore. It exists in a non fixed state.
I can't describe it in language, but it's awake.
I didn't activate it. I buried it somewhere no one
will find it because something else already has.
They're watching me now. Not the Wardens, not even the
Watchers. Higher order minds.
Alien, not just in origin, but in awareness.
They are not here to destroy the Veil, they want to replace it.
Don't trust the ones who claim to liberate.
They are curating a new illusion.
That's all I can give you. Use it well.
I shut the tapes off. My hands were shaking.
Not because. Of what she said, but because.
Part of me already knew the veil is not just a prison.
It's a battlefield. There are factions we can't see.
Wars of. Perception.
Weapons made of memory, Armies made of symbols.
And something, somewhere is watching our resistance like an
experiment. She wouldn't give me her name.
I still don't know where the tapes came from, only that.
They arrived the day after I posted the Kessler tape.
That's the part that. Chills me, not that someone knew
I'd. Received the Kessler tape.
But that something wanted me to hear it.
And now? You have two.
I thought that. Tape would be the end of it, a
last transmission from someone too far gone to ever come back.
But last night I got an e-mail. No sender, no subject line.
Just a single attachment. An audio file.
Not a tape, Not analogue. This one was intentional.
Direct the voice is. Different.
Confident. Articulate maybe?
A little too proud of how? Clever he sounds, he says.
His name is Doctor Leonard Solis claims to have been working on a
competing theory of the veil not under Project Silhouette
independently. Off the books, he told me that.
Kessler's models are incomplete. That silhouette was misguided.
He also said something else, that he knew my father.
That. Kessler and her team are
responsible. For his death.
And that he. Has proof he.
Wouldn't send it yet, just a promise that more is coming, he
says. It'll all make sense soon.
I don't know if I believe him, but I believe something's
coming. So you'll hear his.
Recording his version of. The truth I.
Don't trust him yet, but I'm listening.
Julia, my name is Doctor Leonard Solis.
I know you don't know me, and I know how that sounds.
These days, unknown men with tapes isn't exactly a comforting
trope. But I'm not here to scare you.
I'm here to correct the record. You've been walking through a
world drawn by other people's maps, Kessler's maps,
silhouettes, the tapes. You've played torn pages from a
manual written in the dark. I've drawn my own maps, and the
shape I've found is different, sharper, more alive.
I didn't work with Kessler. I wasn't even born when Project
Silhouette was disbanded. I came to this through noise.
Literal noise. Signal anomalies that didn't
behave like anything else on the spectrum.
They weren't electronic, they weren't natural, and they
weren't random. I thought I was studying an
electromagnetic phenomenon. What I found was the veil, or at
least something that behaves like it.
Julia, the veil isn't some passive filter.
It's an evolving threshold. It reacts to inquiry, it shifts
when it's observed, and worse, it adapts to the observer.
That's what Kessler never grasped.
For all his brilliance, and he was brilliant.
He saw the veil as a container, a wall, a defense mechanism.
But this isn't a prison. It's a feedback loop.
Think of it like a code. Code that rewrites itself when
someone gets too close to seeing the original pattern.
I've been studying what you call the veil for the past six years
independently. No funding, no institutional
backing. Not because I wanted to be a
lone wolf, but because every attempt I made to formalize this
research was quietly shut down. I only started getting close
when I stopped asking for permission.
You think you're uncovering the aftermath of an abandoned
program. You're not.
You're standing in the middle of an ongoing process.
The veil is not dormant. It never was.
And what you're observing, the symbols, the spikes, the
disappearances, they're not phenomena.
They're responses. We've treated the veil like an
object, a barrier, a veil between two things.
But that's a conceptual error. The veil isn't between, it's
around. It's a container for perception.
A filter, yes, but not a passive one.
It reacts to cognition. It shapes itself to ID is the
more we study it, the more it reflects our study back at us.
That's not metaphor. That's physics.
Reflexive field behavior, Semantic recursion, symbolic
feedback. If that sounds familiar, it
should. Kessler knew some of this, but
he didn't understand the consequences, or he didn't care.
See, the difference between his model and mine comes down to
this. He believed the veil was a
defense system, a kind of metaphysical quarantine.
I think it's more like a memory management protocol.
The veil edits, and it compresses, meaning it decides
what gets stored in consciousness and what gets
discarded. That's why the entities you've
reported feel fragmented, why symbols behave like viruses, why
memory is the first thing to break.
It's not that something is trying to invade our minds, it's
that our minds were never fully our own.
You don't just risk opening the door when you investigate.
You risk changing the door. You risk changing yourself.
And here's where it gets personal, because I started to
see names pop up. Repeated ones embedded in
documents, patterns even in those anomalous signal layers.
One of those names was yours. Another was your father's Julia.
Your father wasn't just a bystander, he was part of a
group that tried to breach the veil through something called
resonant cognition, mental signal modelling, thought form,
feedback. He believed, and from what I've
found he might have been right, that if the mind could hold a
true true shape of the veil, it could interact with it, bypass
it. That group no longer exists, and
every single one of them either vanished or died.
Strangely, your father was closer to the truth than anyone
in silhouette was comfortable with, I believe.
No, I am certain that he was eliminated not because he leaked
data, but because he asked a question Kessler couldn't
answer. A question about what came
before the veil. I don't believe in fate.
I believe in recursion. Whatever your father started
didn't end. It echoed, and now it's echoing
through you. Your podcast, your questions,
they're not just drawing attention, they're amplifying
the signal. You're not following a trail.
You're becoming 1. And I know what that sounds
like. Believe me, I do.
I sent you this recording because if I tried to reach out
in person, I don't think I'd make it.
These broadcasts, your episodes, they're not just reaching
curious people like me. They're pulsing through a
structure that's reactive. The more coherent your narrative
becomes, the more the veil will adapt to accommodate it or
reject it. That's not a threat, it's a
pattern. A few weeks ago I ran a
resonance cascade based on your field log transcript, the one
with the spiral eyed subject and the recursive glyph Julia.
Something responded, something local.
That's why I'm speaking now, because I think you're close to
triggering something Kessler tried to suppress, and I think
you deserve to know why. The deeper I've gone into this,
the more erratic the world around me becomes.
People watching who aren't people.
Messages I didn't write, mirrors showing things I haven't done
yet. I have one more recording to
send. It's not just audio.
It's evidence. A model, a simulation of what
happens when the veil is provoked.
You'll hear from me again if I make it that far.
Watch the patterns, Julia, not just what they show you.
Watch what they expect you to do.
And for God's sake, if something tells you it's your Father
speaking to you, it isn't. That was.
Doctor Leonard Solis, Not a voice from the past, but one
from now. Someone like me, someone
looking. And I'll be honest, his words
rattled me. Not because of the warnings, but
because of the implication that I'm not documenting this.
I'm participating in it. I always thought the veil was a
wall. A boundary.
Something ancient, indifferent, maybe even merciful in its
silence. But if what?
Solace says is true, then it's not silent, it's listening and
every. Episode I release every tape I.
Play might not be a revelation. It might be a response.
My father's name, the unanswered questions, the symbol etched
into the cassette. None of this is coincidence.
I'm starting to suspect I wasn't just left these recordings.
I was meant to find them. Or maybe they were meant to find
me. I don't know what Solace is
sending next. I don't know if he'll survive to
send it, but I know I'll be here, waiting, watching the
patterns, listening to the noise beneath the signal.
And if you're hearing this, maybe you were meant to as well.
So keep your eyes open, check your mirrors.
And if something speaks in a voice that feels too familiar,
don't answer. This has been beneath the silent
stars. If you want to stay ahead of
what's coming, follow us on. Spotify or YouTube?
And if you've seen the symbol. Solace described.
Fractured geometry, recursive patterning contained in a
perfect. Circle.
Send it to me because I think we're being drawn into something
bigger than we understand and we might not get another warning.