Tome 6 - Divergence

	Life is a paradox. Change one thing, change everything. We are but walking contradictions about past, present and future selves. A saint in one world, a killer in another. And both true and not true at the same time. If I could go back, would I change anything? Would I do things differently, knowing that the slightest change could trigger a snowball that tumbles and grows, to become an avalanche of death and destruction?
	~ The Observer, Tome 6 - Divergence Reveal Trailer Narration

Tome 6 - Divergence is the fifth Tome introduced to Dead by Daylight and was opened on 10 February 2021.
It was accompanied by Rift 6.

Overview

Tome 6 adds new Lore for the following Characters:

Character	Lore Entry
Yui Kimura	Crash And Burn Memories: Yui Kimura
The Nurse	The Cleansing Of Crotus Penn Memories: Sally Smithson
The Observer	In Search Of Things Lost Logs, Stories, And Notes

It also contains Character-based Challenges for the following characters:

Claudette Morel
The Oni

Memories & Logs

Yui Kimura: Crash and Burn

Memory 369

An engine echoes through the darkness. A roar vibrates through Yui's body as she accelerates through a thick churning fog across a wasteland of crumbling pagodas and buildings. She passes a wrecked motorcycle on the side of the road. Not far from the bike a rider tries to stand but collapses on a shattered leg. She can't stop. She won't stop. She needs to win. She needs to reach the... she's not sure anymore... She looks left and right as she zips past the ruins of her hometown. She passes the same rider again trying to escape the blazing wreck. Doesn't make any sense. Nothing makes sense. A demon yells in the fog. Seems like he's right behind her, lurking in the fog, waiting to jump out at her.

She manoeuvres through piles of flesh and gore of fallen riders burning and sending puffs of swirling smoke up into the darkness. She yells helplessly and the dead, smouldering riders begin to evaporate into a column of light breaking through the darkness. A rider suddenly stands in front of her. She skids, loses control, and tumbles over the road. Her insides feel like mush. Things are broken everywhere. Cracked bones rip through her skin, spitting out black, warm fluid. She tries to rise but a bone jutting out of her black jeans won't let her stand. Like the fallen rider she ignored, she's broken, helpless and soaked in gasoline.

Memory 370

Misato studies Yui closely. To dream of fog and darkness means you see yourself as an imposter... perhaps even a failure. Yui nods and absorbs her friend's interpretation. Misato sips her beer. To see light means you'll overcome whatever is holding you back. To dream of a crash or a dead end could mean the death of something you want... something you wish for. Yui sighs and doesn't know if she wants to hear all this. The demon? The Oni? Why was it chasing me? Misato nods. The Oni could mean you're struggling to maintain your humanity as you chase your dreams, that you may be torn between right and wrong, between good and evil. Misato laughs to herself as she finishes her beer.

Maybe winning isn't everything. Maybe you're greedy. Maybe you're trying to swallow an ocean when a glass of water would suffice. Yui scoffs. Greedy? I'm broke and you're paying for the beers! Misato shakes a drunken finger at her. Greed isn't just about money, Yui. It's about wanting more of anything.

More races. More trophies. More fame. Maybe your need to prove yourself is killing something in you that doesn't want to die. Yui sighs and downs her beer. Enough stupid talk and more drinking. Behind her dismissive smile Yui believes her nightmare has nothing to do with ego or greed, but the anxiety of not having the money to pursue her dream.

Memory 371

Maybe winning isn't everything... Might not be everything but it is rent money and groceries and beer for the next few weeks if she wins the Secret4. But before she can win, she must be given a chance to race. Shinji the favourite has found a way to keep Yui out of the race, convincing the organisers that a female racer would undermine the Secret4. It's chauvinistic. Barbaric. Dated. But it's also her reality. They're not used to someone of her calibre. Calibre? Shinji has no calibre. He cheats and humiliates and ridicules to get a psychological edge. She knows his game, and he knows he's going to have to race her one of these days. But for now, he tells them if she races, he won't, and since he's the current champ, they somehow believe they need him to attract the money. She's sitting out tomorrow's race. But she'll be there to cheer her good friend Hiro.

Memory 372

Shinji trash talks Yui as she fills Hiro's ears with fighting words. Fighting words... That's what her grandmother used to call them. Words with wings that filled the mind and lifted the spirit. Words... words are more than words. They can build. They can destroy. They can empower. They can turn mice into gods and gods into mice. Shinji tells Hiro he's going to make an example out of him because he supports Yui. Hiro acts tough but Yui sees those fear heavy words crawling into his ear, feasting on his confidence and weighing him down. Shinji turns to Yui and makes fun of her hair, winks at her, and asks if she came to watch men ride. She doesn't dignify his shit with a comeback. She wants Hiro to win, but the termites have taken hold, and he's a shell of a rider on a bike about to crack. She whispers winning words in his ears like her grandmother used to do with her. But he doesn't know how to make those words work for him. He's lost and the race hasn't even begun yet.

Memory 373

4 AM. Yui watches Hiro speed off and take the lead. Shinji and others follow close behind. Maybe her words did help. Hiro rounds the bend. She watches Shinji race beside him and lean in. He leans in close, extends his arm, and touches Hiro's shoulder. Just touches him. Not to push him or hurt him but to annoy him. To distract him. Hiro swears. Loses his focus. Loses control. An instant later he's skidding across with pavement with a wrecked bike leaving a trail of sparks and oil. His helmet is disintegrating layer by layer against the rough pavement like sandpaper. He needs help, but the other racers speed past him all trying to win the prise money. Hiro stands and staggers stupidly into the road. His helmet doesn't exist anymore, and his face has been razed to the bone. His mouth and lips are gone. There're just teeth where lips used to be. A shriek sends a shiver of fear up her spine as a car slams on the breaks, loses control and hits her good friend.

Memory 374

Yui accelerates through the fog with a red-eyed demon chasing her. She skids out of control, breaks her legs, and drags herself helplessly through the fog. Footfalls thunder toward her, shaking the ground with every step. She looks over her shoulder but all she sees is the thickening fog. A boot crushes her hand. She looks up to face — herself. Yui awakens in a hospital by Hiro covered in bandages with tubes sticking out of him. Authorities don't know it was an illegal race. If they did, they'd all end up in jail. She's not sure if Hiro can understand her but she tries her best to comfort him. Doctor says you're lucky to be alive. She wants to tell him he'll never walk again but she can't bring herself to do it. She doesn't say anything. She can't say anything. One lapse in judgement and he lost everything. Could happen to anyone. Yui closes her eyes and for a moment imagines a world where she hunts that bastard down and kills him like a dog.

Memory 375

Misato delivers some good news while they walk toward their favourite noodle dive. The organisers want her to race the Secret4. An unknown benefactor wants to see what she can do. Rumours echo of a billionaire wanting to help lifers realise their dreams.

None of it makes sense. Yui feels many things right now but an overpowering need to put Shinji in his place distracts her. But she knows she must put the mental lens of her focus on winning. Not payback. Not vengeance. Not even gossip or trash talk. Everything on winning.

Not just to impress an eccentric billionaire but to pay the rent and grocery bills.

Memory 376

Yui walks up a mountain path she recognises and sees a woman standing at the edge of a precipice.

She reaches out to the woman. Knows something's wrong.

The woman turns to her slightly and Yui realises she's staring at an older version of herself. Grey hair, bloodshot eyes, tears streaming down her face. Older Yui stares at younger Yui with longing. Then older Yui shakes her head, turns and jumps. Younger Yui rushes to the edge and stares down at countless bodies busted and broken over jagged rocks. All of them... her. She has sudden flashes of a life she doesn't recognise, a life where she never left Hida or pursued her dream. A life where she became a teacher like her father. None of it makes sense. She covers her face with her young hands and screams and suddenly wakes up in her bed lying in a pool of sticky, cold sweat.

Memory 377

Misato smiles at Yui. Maybe it wasn't a dream. Maybe it was a glimpse into another world, a world where you take a completely different path. In one you become a vengeful, red-eyed brute and in another a coward that doesn't follow her dreams. Yui shakes her head. I don't believe in any of that multi-world magical bullshit. Misato scrunches her face when she hears magic. Not magic, quantum... quantum bullshit. Misato munches on peanuts and sips her beer. If it's a dream it probably has something to do with something you are moving away from, something you left behind. What do the cliffs signify? Yui remembers a moment with her grandmother. She remembers she was at a recreational center with her friends and cousins. She lost a relay race because her best friend stopped to see if their competitor was okay when he tripped and fell. Her teammate helped the boy up while another team took the lead and won the race. She was furious and they hadn't spoken for weeks. Yui remembered going to the precipice where they liked to talk hoping she would be there, but she wasn't. Her grandmother went up to see her and listened to her side of the story and sided with her friend.

Yui vaguely remembered the talk. Her grandmother sat beside her, staring below at the jagged rocks, laughing nervously. You love danger... and more than danger you love winning. Always have, always will. But winning isn't everything, Yui. Tell me... what's the use of winning if you lose all your friends? Who are you going to share your victories with?

Yui laughs at this and calls her best friend weak. Her grandmother places a concerned hand on her shoulder. She's not weak. I would say she's quite the opposite to sacrifice winning to help someone in need. Empathy is what makes us human and if you lose this you are... you are just a very good machine that wins. What does it matter if you gain the world if you lose your humanity? Yui closes her eyes and knows her grandmother is right, and yet... there's something inside her that hates to lose, that refuses to lose, something that will drive her to win despite it all. A thing that brings out the best and worst in her.

Memory 378

Engines rattle and roar in an endless cacophony as Shinji messes with Yui. Everyone wants the jackpot, and she needs this money more than ever. She's been working as an assistant English teacher at a high school but it's barely enough to get by let alone fix her bike. Her bike... her bike feels sick. She used to love the sound of her bike but recently she's noticed a change, a few notes are off, and the sound just doesn't travel through her body the way it used to. All these engines singing their unique song and her bike singing something strange and off. She needs the prise money, and the sponsorship of a billionaire wouldn't be so bad either. Last thing she'll do is let this fool disrupt her focus. She smiles at him after he levels an insult at her and threatens to run her off the road. Yui meets his gaze. You'll try, but you'll crash and burn just as soon as you do. She says it with the weight and certainty of a curse. Shinji tells her she should stay out of this one and let the men race. She knows what he trying to do. He's trying to disrupt her. Get in her head. Change the vision of victory in her mind. He tells her the race is his. She flashes a smile. Not while I'm alive.

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Sally Smithson: The Cleansing of Crotus Prenn

Memory 906

There is a reprieve this night in the asylum, and Sally does what any sane person would do — she clings to it with all her strength. The weight that sits in her chest melts away, allowing for one starving breath. The scent of sweat and dusty linen is willed from her mind, replaced with memories of tomatoes and fresh soil. Her feet take her down the hall, heels clicking, echoing into an expanse of shadows. She does not allow herself to see the stains on the walls or the fracture in the window's pane. She could draw them from memory but, for this moment, they cease to exist.

As Sally reaches the end of the hall, she peers into a patient's room, illuminated by a blade of moonlight cutting across the floor. A young girl, sitting atop the bed, flinches at the oncoming shadow. Only as Sally walks into the moonlight does the girl release her grip on a bundle of sheets. Sally offers a sympathetic smile to her... the Anxious Girl. The asylum's file lists her name as Marion, but the staff have codes for each patient. The Catatonic Boy, the Sweaty Codger, the Anxious Girl. Everything they are summarised into two words.

Sally sits on the edge of the bed, braiding the Anxious Girl's dry, brittle hair. Did you visit the community room today? The Anxious Girl hugs her pillow. I stayed here. A light moan carries through the hall, the first indication that peace will soon be broken. Sally does her best to ignore it, weaving one strand of hair over another. Did you know that room has a chair by the window? You can see the robins building a nest in the trees. The Anxious Girl looks to the hallway, her shoulders tensing as she listens to the distant moan. Sally gently rubs the girl's shoulder, wordlessly offering her sympathy. They sit for a short time until a scream carries through the hallway.

Memory 907

Sally marches down the hall to the source of the scream. Patients, each in their own rooms, react, an interlude of cries and shrieks joining in, accompanied by the thumping of a head slamming into a wall. The volume builds, louder and more chaotic, until finally, as if reaching a crescendo, a patient howls. Sally rushes into a room, moving towards a hideously scarred woman, restrained to the bed, whose scream slowly dies into soft, mirthful laughter. Did you enjoy the song, sweet nurse? I call it Concerto of Lunatics.

The asylum is wide awake now, alive, anxious, the scattered shrieks and moans of patients ricocheting through the halls. Sally's chest tightens, as she struggles to breathe. Why... why must you rile them? The Broken Woman smiles beneath the swath of bandages over her scarred face. Through two small holes, mismatched eyes—blue and orange—sparkle. Oh, sweet nurse, what are the jesters for if not a laugh? Sally knows to step away, knows there is nothing to gain from arguing, yet she cannot restrain herself. They are humans and, sick as they may be, they deserve sympathy. This is a line Sally has told herself many times over the years, though that is all it has become—a line; a series of carefully rehearsed words pushed through chapped lips. Perhaps this is why the Broken Woman chuckles as if trading quips with a friend. They deserve sympathy? Most have contributed nothing but pain, and the others have contributed nothing at all.

Memory 908

Sally makes no attempt to suppress her disgust as she looks at the Broken Woman's smile. You would criticise your fellow patients for bringing nothing to this world, yet what have you provided? The Broken Woman awkwardly sits up on her bed, pulling at her restraints like a restless marionette. I have provided more to this world than a thousand missionaries. When I saw sickness, I did not coddle it, feed it, wipe the tears from its eyes—I cleansed it! The Broken Woman sees she has Sally's attention. If we want humanity to survive, we must be its custodians, sweet nurse. And yet... we have allowed an infection to fester—the evidence pervading these walls. The Broken Woman pauses, allowing her point to settle. Shrieks and moans from the mentally insane echo through the halls.

Sally feels her nerves tighten with each chaotic noise that comes her way. She has little desire to argue, yet duty compels. Are you not within these walls too? Would that not make you part of the infection? The Broken Woman smiles as if expecting this question. I am the solution, condemned to the halls of the infected. Like you, I was a nurse. But I served not the patients but the greater good. With one simple injection I removed the weak from the gene pool. I watched them in their death throes, knowing my actions were backed by honest science so few have the strength to trust. And do you know what the courts called me for following logic? Insane!

Memory 909

The days pass, but Sally's unsure how many. She always finds herself back in the asylum, tending to the frantic, the violent, the feeble. Down the hall, the Bad Man has slipped his restraints again. Like a wolf, he shows no motive but to prowl for the weak, and it appears he's found his prey. He drags the naked body of the Rancid Son by the ankles. Blood spills from the Son's head. Sally does not know if the man is dead. Calling for help, she sprints down the hall with a syringe filled of sedatives. There are no other nurses to come to her aid. Financial restrictions have seen to that. She considers that she is running to her death this time, but there is something involuntary in her movements, as if she has become a spectator. The Bad Man lets go of the Rancid Son's ankles and turns his attention to Sally. He fails to notice Harvey Kavanagh, the plump orderly, round the corner behind him. Harvey slams The Bad Man into the floor as he's done to so many patients. Sally jabs a sedative into the Bad Man's neck. The Bad Man sags in place and with a look of bewilderment falls to the ground.

The decrepit hall is silent. Sally looks over the scene at her feet. Kavanagh's sizable frame hefts up and down as he catches his breath, thick arm slung over The Bad Man who rests peacefully. The Rancid Son, either unconscious or dead, lies beneath them with Kavanagh's boot pressed against his nostril. The smear of blood from his head goes on for thirty feet down the hall before curling into an adjacent room. Sally laughs to stop herself from screaming.

Memory 910

Sally finds herself in the Broken Woman's room. The mismatched eyes of the Broken Woman appear sympathetic as the sunlight shimmers over them, yet she speaks with sharpened words. Shame about that bloody disturbance yesterday. Boys like that are made a certain way... not built for civil society. The big, brutish one, well, it is as plain as the skin on his face. And the other, oh, the other one hides it well. But have you looked at his family name? That will explain everything.

Sally wills herself to think of a gentle lake, lilies and—no... all she can see are the grimy asylum walls and bloody bandages. There are no gentle breezes to distract her, only the Broken Woman's voice prodding deeper. Did you not have a husband, sweet nurse? I recall the newspaper article... hand to heart, my dear, I cried at his unfortunate death. You would have had beautiful babies. To now be here, a widow of pure genes, serving the filth of the world—such a turn of events.

Sally gets up, leaving a bandage half-wrapped. Her feet shuffle imprecisely as she moves for the door. She tries to push her thoughts away, knows she shouldn't think it, but—it is such cruelty. Her love was pure, her husband pure, and those who live in these halls are anything but. Yet these sick, twisted beasts, receive the care and attention deserved to the man she lost.

Her throat catches on each breath. Her vision blurs. She wants to run but knows it's no use. No matter where she goes, she always finds herself back in these halls. With swirling thoughts, one stark realization breaks through: it is not she who keeps the insane confined to these halls, but the insane who confine her.

She falls to the unforgiving floor.

Memory 911

A lush green field dotted with salmon-coloured lilies and patches of pine trees surround the lake. The colours are more vibrant than Sally remembers, and though it smells of fresh rain, the sky is clear. Andrew sits next to her on a blanket, his blonde hair nearly white in the sun. She wears the dress he had bought her. A symbol of my love, he had written on the card, and for a man of few words it meant many.

He wipes the grass stains from his calloused hands and turns to Sally. We should get home. The lake will still be here tomorrow. A cold breeze sweeps through the meadow, bringing with it the scent of sweat and dusty linen. She grips his wrist with both hands. Just one more minute, please. One more.

She hears saws ripping through lumber, the sound heightening with each violent slash. Tighter, she holds Andrew's wrist, pressing her head into his shoulder and bracing herself. An immense tree slams to the ground behind her, sending twigs and dirt into the air. One after another, they come down in booming, ground-shaking jolts. Sally coughs through a cloud of dust, keeping her grip on Andrew the entire time.

A bead of blood trickles down his arm, coming to rest on her finger. She looks up to see her husband's skull broken open, spilling blood and chunks of brain. One stark white eye looks out from the carnage, focused intently on her. We would have had beautiful babies, Sally.

She collapses into the crimson muck of his chest and cries. The skin on her hands flakes away, turning to dust. She loses her grip on him. Everything she was, down to the dress she wore, decays, blown away in the wind.

The sweaty hands of Kavanagh shake her as she awakes on the asylum floor.

Memory 912

She's in the hallway again. The scent, the stains, her heels clicking—it's the same. Occasional moans and shouts carry from nearby rooms, short bursts of mania or terror that emerge and intermingle: The Concerto of Lunatics.

Sally enters the Anxious Girl's room and sits at the foot of her bed. The girl flinches but, after a second's pause, lifts herself up. Illuminated under moonlight, she offers a timid yet warm smile. Sally takes three strands of the girl's hair and begins to weave a braid. Did you see the robins today? But Sally doesn't wait for the girl's answer. Another day hiding, wasn't it? And what about the robins? They will be dead by the time you leave this room.

The girl's shoulders tense and Sally feels herself do the same. She takes a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. As she parts the hair back from the Anxious Girl's skull, she spies tiny, writhing creatures. An infestation of lice crawls through the girl's hair. Sally pulls her hand back and slaps the girl across her face. Filthy!

Their eyes lock, confusion and startlement among them both. Tears trickle down the Anxious Girl's helpless face, wet chin trembling. Sally takes a step back. She thinks to apologise, to explain the stress she's been under, but something in her refuses. Filthy girl! She storms from the room.

Memory 913

Sally, her face emotionally void, sits next to the Broken Woman's bed. She finds herself more and more in this position, listening to the woman ramble. The Broken Woman fidgets with her restraints, fixated on an unscarred piece of skin at the base of her hand. Purification comes in many forms. We must all make sacrifices. She curls a finger inwards and scratches at the clean piece of skin until it's torn off. For the most grotesque offenders—the genetic abominations—we must take extreme measures. Otherwise, you get... well, the results surround you.

Sally sits motionless, her tired eyes the only indication that she's conscious. The Broken Woman speaks as if chatting with a friend over tea. Do you know what I could do? I could tell you the ingredients for my special injection... the one I used on my patients. A quick little prick and they'll writhe as if a purifying fire burns within. A fitting way to deal with inhuman filth, wouldn't you say? Are you hearing me, sweet nurse? You don't have to be their servant anymore.

Memory 914

Sally feels the asylum closing in on her. Whispers of paranoid lunatics spill through the cracks. She wonders how long she can walk this hallway, questions if it ever ends. She passes the Catatonic Boy in his wheelchair, staring deep into the walls. He gazes in her direction though his eyes look through her. Has the trial begun? He lets out a scream, pausing as if having startled himself, then laughs.

Harvey Kavanagh, the Fat Orderly, emerges from a patient's room and gives her a smile. The skin on his neck dangles as he moves, glistening with sweat. A thick coat of hair covers his arms and curls over the collar of his shirt. His eyes move from Sally's feet upwards, pausing on her chest until he realises she's watching him. His eyes dart to examine the floor as he nervously licks his mouth.

Ahead, the Foul Girl skips gracefully, enjoying her first day out of restraints in a month. She hums a pleasant tune, tracing her hand over the wall. As Sally approaches, the Girl tilts her head forward. She lets out a long, guttural sound, heaving her diaphragm until vomit splashes onto the floor. Content with herself, she smiles and skips on.

Sally continues, giving no thought to cleaning the mess. She sees the Shoeless Imbecile sitting by the broom closet. Thick strands of blood drip from his mouth. With precise rhythm he slams his jaw into the doorframe six times, digs at his gums, and pulls out a tooth. He peers at Sally as if she's the strangest thing he's ever seen.

Sally looks out at the hallway, stretching on forever. She stops, accepting what she's tried to suppress: the sickness can grow no more.

Memory 915

Sally fills the syringe as the Broken Woman instructed. Thick, dark liquid swirls within, a night sky void of stars. The helpless anxiety that crippled her vanishes under a sea of calm.

Though her heels click with each step, she feels as if she floats; as if everything she's to do has been determined, requiring only the gentlest breeze to push her forward. She sees the sickness clearly. It has infected all. But the most hideous, is the one who refuses to face it; the dog that doesn't know it's a dog. And so, she makes her way to the Broken Woman's room.

Strange how, for all the woman's wisdom, she is blind to her impurities. Though she removes the blemishes from her skin, she fails to judge the mismatched eyes that gaze at her in the mirror. But no amount of carving can remove genetics. Such a case requires extreme measures.

Sally grips the syringe and prepares for what's to come. There is such filth that permeates the asylum—if she is to cleanse it all, she had best begin.

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The Observer: In Search of Things Lost

Arcus 02

I am going through some past scribblings and the notes of the previous unknown occupants, and I realise I should at least try to organise them. Reading these notes, I decipher several voices who I am aptly calling the unknown few who like myself had a fixation with the Entity and who like myself had an ability to experience the memories encoded in the fog. I will include my past scribblings and number them as best as I can, referring to them as notes obscura, or just obscura, to try and piece together how long I've actually been here. I think I may have found my first ramblings amongst the half-destroyed journals of the unknown occupants who struggled with infinite possibilities of whiling away the time except the one they probably missed the most. The one I miss the most—friendship, companionship, sitting with my father drinking whiskey and watching the Ancients swim across the night sky, or just losing time with a friend in a hearty conversation about the merits of art, music, laughter and stories. All I have now are the memories of others. Second-hand experiences that constantly remind me of things lost and half-remembered.

Obscura. Unknown Prisoners.

I've found scattered about this tower countless journals from previous occupants. Occupants might not be the best way to describe them. Prisoners would be more fitting. Eight or nine of them from the distinct voices I deciphered in the manifold journals I read with surprising interest and alacrity. Some of these unknown prisoners shared my unusual penchant for beer, whiskey and stories of the macabre. Others seemed to be raving lunatics writing not journals but senseless notes—notes from the absurd I call them—strange musings and endless contradictions about places and characters observed and consciously or unconsciously improperly described. These notes from the absurd seem to start with unintelligible gibberish are quite different from anything I've seen or read, as though written by someone driven by madness or some other motive to undermine any attempt to make sense of this world. Along with the notes I found illustrations and survivor statements from police files and thousands of short stories in a dark chamber in the basement. They had been piled up and set ablaze but quickly extinguished with some sort of a putrid, rotting sludge. I cleaned the chamber and stacked all the stories in piles to go through and organise at a later date. For the time being I see no reason to remove them from what I am now calling the Chamber of Blood.

Survivor Statement. Sean Dint.

I was listening to a podcast of creepy stories with my friends... Adrien... Mia... Tina... and Bill. I can't remember which one of us figured how to do it... but we realised that the stories were codes to pass on coordinates of locations of interest for some group or cult or whatever. We decoded a few other stories and came to the conclusion that these people were sending encrypted locations of places where they believe there would be ghosts. We didn't buy any of that paranormal crap and we were just having fun drinking and decoding the stories and looking up the places on satellite maps. But when the coordinates of one story turned out to be close to us, we thought we could check out the place for fun. Adrien rented a car and we headed up to what was left of the crumbling asylum. There was nothing but overgrown ruins. But I remember this unnatural black fog and it was like we were at the asylum but some other version of it. It was really strange. And that's when we saw this thing... this giant samurai with a demon mask lurking about as though it had stepped out of one world and into another. He killed Mia first. I don't remember what happened exactly... I just saw... I saw her head thump and tumble across the ground. I don't remember much... I remember crawling out of the fog and that demon or apparition or whatever that thing was couldn't follow me... like it was blocked by something invisible. Not long after a man who called himself Hans and who identified himself as a detective arrived and asked me questions about what I had seen. He took some notes and seemed a bit strange. Then when he heard the sirens approaching, he disappeared just like that. When the police arrived, the fog was gone leaving only the... the... hacked remains of my friends. And now I'm here... and you're telling that you don't know who that detective was and that you want me to show you how to crack the code of the podcast. But I can't because I don't know! That was my buddy Tina, and she's hacked to pieces you assholes!

Notes from the Absurd. Emperor Dwight.

Ha! Bubble gum tuna on Tuesday! Sir regal Dwight in a thicklish purple robe and golden crownee steps out into the courtyard and greets all the peasants with good words and pizza. The kingdom cheers and roars.

Chamber of Blood. Harbinger of Hell. Evil Eyes. 1.

Haddie Kaur lifted her chai tea, let the steaming, spicy cardamom and cinnamon elixir sooth down her throat, and set down her stainless-steel cup in the small dhaba near her ancestral village of Mohi. The tea warmed her insides, yet she shivered cold with a nameless terror that mocked and poked at her like a formless apparition, reminding her that all wasn't what it seemed and that there were nameless things that went bump in the night.

Ever since Haddie could remember she had seen and heard things beyond the veil, and she even had vague recollections of the day her parents disappeared while they were vacationing when she was five years old. She remembered the whispers, the approaching darkness, and the sense that somehow they were in another reality. She didn't remember much about that time, but she remembered being taken in by her French-Canadian godparents, the Rois, who raised her with their son, Jordan.

Now Haddie and her older stepbrother Jordan were in India, filming episodes for their fairly successful web series 'Harbinger of Hell' with their uncle Stefan. A fan had sought them out after having watched one of their episodes about interdimensional overlaps which Haddie could sense, feel and even explore if her focus was right and she was able to 'tune in' as she so often described her process.

As their luck would have it this mysterious benefactor had funded an entire expedition all over the world, giving her brother and uncle access to countless remote and classified areas of known paranormal activity and unexplainable disappearances.

Haddie sipped her tea, listening to the villagers speak a language that reminded her of her disappeared father, and she suddenly heard a familiar voice and Quebecois accent that stood out from the rest calling out her name.

A moment later Stefan entered the dhaba with Jordan. “I found the site of the massacre,” Stefan said. “Finish your tea, and let's get outta here!”

Haddie sprang to her feet and followed her uncle and brother into the scorching hot day.

Chamber of Blood. Harbinger of Hell. Evil Eyes. 2.

“The thugs were ambushed in the valley near the ruins of the old signaling fort,” a turbaned man with a beard said. “I'm not sure what you hope to find here. Most stay away from this place like the plague.” He stared at the older teens as if they were mad. “You should have returned to the hotel like your uncle. Nothing here but the eyes, and they're probably watching us right now.”

Haddie and Jordan didn't answer or want to explain that their uncle didn't have the stomach for adventure, that he was more of a producer and that he was trying to finish off a horror novel he'd been working on for the last ten years. Ignoring the guide's nervous ramblings, Haddie studied the white stone bricks of the ruined fort and the surrounding caves with a strange feeling that they were being watched.

The guide said, “The official story is a unit of British soldiers died fighting a band of thugees.”

“And the unofficial story?” Haddie turned to him. The guide stared at her for a long moment. “The unofficial story is they turned their rifles and swords against each other. Something in these caves drove them mad.”

Haddie absorbed this and closed her eyes while Jordan filmed the ruins and the caves. Calming her heart and silencing her mind, she began to hear the rising screams and cries of people being butchered. When she opened her eyes again, she could see the scintillating orange residual memories of British soldiers cutting down thuggee rebels.

One thug seemed to be holding something important in his hands as he escaped the massacre. She walked through residual memories and approached the thug, starring at a piece of broken pillar in his hand. The thug desperately clambered over the rocks and rubble, charging into a nearby cave with the soldiers in hot pursuit.

Jordan stepped up behind her. “Did you see anything?”

Haddie nodded and pointed at the cave the thug had run into.

The guide raised his eyebrows. “And that's my cue to go,” he said, turning his back on the siblings. “Not that I think you're both crazy... which I do... but I need to get home before my wife realises I'm gone. It's my day to make rotis and pick up the kids from school.”

Haddie and Jordan watched the guide disappear down the rocky, sun-baked valley. Then they turned and approached the gaping mouth of the cave. For a long moment they stared into the darkness without saying a word. Jordan turned on the flashlight of his cell phone and just as they prepared to enter, they heard the crunch of stone behind them. Brother and sister turned slowly to face the barrel of a rifle.

Chamber of Blood. Harbinger of Hell. Evil Eyes. 3.

Three men speaking an ancient, unknown language forced Haddie and Jordan through the dark and seemingly endless cave with flickering flashlights to illuminate the way. Somehow these captors knew Haddie had a gift and were barking orders for her in broken English to lead them to the place where the thuggee rebel had hidden the relic. She didn't recognise her captors but it wasn't the first time someone had forced her to find something with her special abilities.

Haddie followed a trail of residual memories—memories and whispers only she could see and hear. She could sense they were walking through an 'overlap' of realities which heightened and reinforced her abilities in an inexplicable way. She followed the scintillating orange trail and froze when the residual soldiers suddenly disappeared. Then she started when the soldiers blinked back into existence and she heard desperate screams as something she couldn't make out attacked them.

“What is it?” one of her captors asked.

“She's seeing something,” Jordan said. “Let her do her thing.”

“This better not be a trick!”

Haddie watched the indiscernible creature rip the soldiers into an unrecognizable mess of flesh and gore. The creature then snatched the thug and dragged him screaming through a series of interconnecting tunnels. She chased after the fading memory, entering a small cavern as she watched the thug release the relic as the creature dragged him into a smaller tunnel that she imagined led to a feeding den.

Memories burned out like dying embers to reveal a cavern of human bones piled over thick rotting sludge. She winced at the stench of fermented organs and fluids and waved a cloud of flies away from her face. Near one pile of bones was a corpse, still warm, flayed from head to toe, eyes missing, mouth transfixed in an agonizing scream. The captors stared at the corpse for a long moment before one prodded Haddie with the barrel of his rifle.

“What the hell did this?” One of their captors murmured in disbelief.

“There must be a bend in reality here.” Another captor offered as an explanation. Haddie noted that what she called an 'overlap' these men called a 'bend.' It was clear that they had an understanding of other dimensions and that somehow this piece of column was more than just a relic.

“Where is it?” The leader prodded Haddie. “Where's the relic!”

Haddie took a moment, then pointed at a pile of bones. “But it could also be in there...” She motioned toward the tunnel that led to the feeding den.

“Check the bones,” one captor ordered the siblings.

Jordan and Haddie kneeled in the sticky sludge and rummaged through the bones as the leader turned toward the shadowy tunnel. He inched close to the opening and flashed a blade of light inside. While the other two captors were dealing with flies and covering their noses, Haddie found the jagged piece of column and stealthily slid it over to Jordan.

A sudden chatter of teeth and hissing made them all turn to the leader. He searched the darkness with a beam of light that suddenly momentary revealed a grotesque creature with a face covered by dozens if not hundreds of glowing red eyes.

The leader brought the beam back to the face as the creature hissed and revealed a mouth filled with needle-like teeth. An instant later the creature grabbed the flashlight and pulled the leader inside the den.

The other captors stumbled, dropped things and fired stupidly into the darkness. Haddie instantly grabbed a fallen flashlight, looked at her brother with wide, desperate eyes and yelled for him to—

“RUN!”

Chamber of Blood. Harbinger of Hell. Evil Eyes. 4.

Jordan and Haddie rushed through the cave with the screams and cries of dying brutes echoing through the bowels of the mountain. “What was that thing?”

“I didn't get a good look and I don't really want to!” Haddie yelled and she could see the sunlight ahead but sensed they wouldn't make it. “Keep going!” She yelled and turned to face the darkness with only a flashlight.

The hissing and crumbling faded to silence. She had no idea what she was going to do next. She narrowed her gaze, waiting. Teeth suddenly chattered and a hundred red eyes bore down on her.

Haddie inched back and fell to the ground beside a skeleton holding a kukri in one hand and a revolver in the other. She instantly wrenched the weapons out of its boney hands and clambered to trembling feet.

The creature approached slowly, hissing and chattering, its terrible eyes fixated on her. She stared at long arms and fingers with claws like knives. She lifted her arm and aimed the revolver at its head. Then she pulled the trigger and—

Nothing happened.

A hundred eyes stared down at the revolver, then back at her.

“Shit.”

The creature hissed, then attacked with a roar. Haddie evaded. Terrible claws swished overhead and hit the wall. Bits of rock and stone rained over her.

Covered in debris, she sprang up and ran with the creature in pursuit. She turned in the gathering dust and instinctively felt the attack before it came as she often did. With one quick thrust of her arm, the blade of the kukri severed the hand. The creature shrieked something terrible.

Haddie seised the opportunity to severe the head but the creature lunged away and the blade hit the stone wall. The kukri vibrated out of her hand and she dove to the ground as the creature charged her.

Tumbling away, Haddie instinctively grabbed a slab of stone. The creature attacked and missed, hitting the wall. Without hesitation Haddie smashed the slab over its bewildered head with a terrible crunching sound she wouldn't soon forget.

The creature collapsed and Haddie, adrenalin rushing, bludgeoned the head and eyes. When there was nothing left but a sticky, warm pulp she released the gore-covered stone and fell back on her haunches to gather herself. But no sooner did she relax than she heard the rising crescendo of chattering teeth echoing through the darkness.

With an almost defeated sigh, Haddie staggered to her feet. White fear flashed through her mind as the chattering and hissing grew louder and louder. Teeth clenched as thousands of red eyes flared up in the inky blackness of the cave. She backed away slowly, then spun on her heals and ran!

Chamber of Blood. Harbinger of Hell. Evil Eyes. 5.

Haddie charged toward the mouth of the cave with millions of eyes and chattering teeth on her heels. She felt the swipes at her back but never wavered. She vaulted wildly out the mouth just as one creature lunged at her. Haddie tumbled out of the cave as the creature hit an invisible barrier where the overlap of dimensions ended. She turned to see the dark mouth of the cave fill with scathing red eyes.

Jordan stepped up behind her. “Helly Haddie, does it again,” he said with a laugh.

Haddie gave her brother a dirty look. “Don't call me that,” she said curtly. Even though he had meant no harm, it was a name along with 'The Harbinger of Hell' children used to call her because bad luck, strange things and unexplainable accidents seemed to follow her. Years of therapy gave her the courage to accept her abilities and to boldly call her series the Harbinger of Hell.

Exhausted, Haddie sat on a sun-baked stone and watched the red eyes slowly disappear from the gloom of the cave. “Did you catch the creature on your shirt cam?”

Jordan shook his head as he sat beside her. She didn't think he would as creatures or relics from other worlds didn't register and often left blurs or glitches.

Jordan sighed and handed over the relic they had recovered. “What do you make of it?”

Haddie held it and felt great misery. In her mind's eye she saw cloaked figures hiding pieces of the same pillar in another world. She shrugged and kept what she had seen to herself. Then she pulled out her cellphone and handed it to Jordan. He centered her in the frame and indicated he was filming.

Haddie cleared her throat, mopped her forehead of sweat and soot, looked into the lens, and proceeded to address her online followers:

“My name is Haddie and I was born with a wonderful curse. All my life I've attracted strange and unusual things, and when I was twelve, I realised I was able to acquire insight to unexplainable events and otherworldly places.”

She took a moment to calm her racing heart. She swallowed her fear, remembered she had a series to sell, and forced energy and pep into her voice. “What do you need to know about India? It's where my father grew up and it's where I am today to explore the urban legends of this amazing country.”

Haddie took a moment to find her words.

“Our adventure begins in Northern India at a strange place locals call The Eyes or the Valley of Evil Eyes where hundreds have disappeared or died including a unit of British soldiers in the 1800s. What happened to these soldiers? Where did they disappear to? And is there any merit to the accounts of a cave-dwelling demon with eyes around its head that burn right through the soul?”

Haddie stared meditatively into the camera and wanted to say 'yes' to every one of her questions but decided it was better to leave them up to interpretation. After a dramatic pause, she finished, “Take a look at what we discovered. Judge the evidence for yourself... and see if there is any truth to the Evil Eyes of the Himalayas.”

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Challenges

NOTE: As the Rift associated with this Tome has ended, these Challenges no longer award Rift Fragments. They are documented for archival reasons.

Level 1

Challenge	Task	Character	Completion Rewards
Challenge	Task	Character
REGULAR CHALLENGES
Leap of Faith	Vault Pallets or Windows while in a chase a total of 6 times.		3	15,000
Go For Broke	Sabotage Hooks a total of 8 times.		3	15,000
Bring The Light	Complete repairs on Generators a total of 4 times.		3	15,000
Deadly Race	Be Chased by the Killer for a total of 60 seconds.		3	15,000
The Last Place You Look	Unlock Chests a total of 6 times.		3	15,000
A True Friend	Safely unhook Survivors or take Protection Hits for a total of 8 times.		3	15,000
Outta Sight	While within 10 meters of the Killer, hide for a total of 45 seconds.		3	15,000
Property Damage	Damage Generators or destroy dropped Pallets for a total of 12 times.		3	15,000
Spree Of Violence	Hit 10 different Survivors with your Basic Attack. (Requires at least 3 Trials to complete.)		3	15,000
Reverent	Sacrifice Survivors to The Entity a total of 6 times.		3	15,000
Bloody Rewards	Earn a total of 50,000 Bloodpoints. (Post-Trial Bloodpoints are not counted.)		3	15,000
MASTER CHALLENGES
Reckless By Necessity	Reset 1 Pallet within 15 meters of the Killer, while having Any Means Necessary equipped.		5	25,000
Bloodless	Escape chases while injured a total of 2 times in a single Trial, while having Lucky Break equipped.		5	25,000
Self Preservation	While in a chase, or within 10 seconds of escaping a chase, enter a Locker 1 time.		5	25,000
Nurse Knows Best	Hook 4 different Survivors in a single Trial, while having A Nurse's Calling equipped.		5	25,000
Dark Adherent	Hook Survivors a total of 5 times in a single Trial.		5	25,000
Crow Food	Chase 1 Survivor within 10 seconds of them startling a Crow, while having Spies from the Shadows equipped.		5	25,000
Take Their Breath Away	Knock down Survivors a total of 6 times in a single Trial, while having Stridor equipped.		5	25,000
Kimura's Courage	Playing as Yui Kimura, Stun or Blind the Killer a total of 2 times in a single Trial.		5	25,000
Cleanse The Filth	Playing as The Nurse, hit Survivors after a Blink a total of 2 times in a single Trial.		5	25,000
GLYPH CHALLENGES
Glyph Seeker	Commune with 3 Red Glyphs.		5	25,000

Completion Charm

Icon	Name	Rarity	Description
	Tower of the Damned	Uncommon	The foundation of a mysterious tower.

Level 2

Challenge	Task	Character	Completion Rewards
Challenge	Task	Character
REGULAR CHALLENGES
As Long As It Gets Fixed	Complete repairs on Generators yourself, or by another Survivor, a total of 12 times. (Requires at least 3 Trials to complete.)		3	25,000
Craft Time's Over	Cleanse Totems a total of 15 times.		3	25,000
Generosity	Heal other Survivors for a total of 10 Health States.		3	25,000
Deadly Race	Be chased by the Killer for a total of 120 seconds.		3	25,000
Appeal To Heal	Fully deplete Med-Kits a total of 4 times.		3	25,000
Strategic Alliance	Perform Cooperative Actions for a total of 180 seconds.		3	25,000
Bloody Good	Hit Survivors with Basic Attacks a total of 20 times.		3	25,000
Execution	Kill Survivors by any means a total of 8 times. (Requires at least 2 Trials to complete.)		3	25,000
Hunter's Ambition	Start a chase with a total of 12 different Survivors. (Requires at least 3 Trials to complete.)		3	25,000
Buried Underground	Hook Survivors in The Basement a total of 5 times.		3	25,000
Golden Age	Earn Emblems of Gold Quality or better a total of 8 times.		3	25,000
MASTER CHALLENGES
Heroic Cause	Fully recover yourself or other Survivors from the Dying State a total of 2 times in a single Trial, while having Empathy equipped.		5	35,000
Item Of Interest	Escape 1 Trial while carrying an Item of Very Rare or Ultra Rare rarity.		5	35,000
Make Them Suffer	Have all 4 Survivors be injured, hooked or in the Dying State, while having Thanatophobia equipped.		5	35,000
Thorough Destruction	Damage Generators or destroy dropped Pallets for a total of 10 times in a single Trial.		5	35,000
Sealed Shut	Close the Hatch 1 time.		5	35,000
Dark Triumph	During the Endgame Collapse, sacrifice 1 Survivor.		5	35,000
Opportune Escape	Playing as Yui Kimura, vault Pallets or Windows while in a chase a total of 5 times in a single Trial.		5	35,000
Chain Combo	Playing as The Nurse, hit a Survivor after chaining at least 2 Blinks a total of 2 times in a single Trial.		5	35,000
GLYPH CHALLENGES
Glyph Seeker	Commune with 4 Red Glyphs.		5	35,000

Completion Charm

Icon	Name	Rarity	Description
	Tower of the Rising	Rare	A half-built tower that holds secrets in its cold walls.

Level 3

Challenge	Task	Character	Completion Rewards
Challenge	Task	Character
REGULAR CHALLENGES
Appeal To Heal	Fully deplete Med-Kits a total of 6 times.		3	30,000
Bring The Light	Complete repairs on Generators a total of 12 times. (Requires at least 3 Trials to complete.)		3	30,000
Sore Ankles	Fall from a Great Height while being chased a total of 3 times.		3	30,000
Heroic Virtue	Remain in the Trial while a total of 6 other Survivors escape.		3	30,000
A True Friend	Safely unhook Survivors or take Protection Hits for a total of 20 times.		3	30,000
Escape Route	Escape chases a total of 8 times.		3	30,000
Deadly Pursuit	Chase Survivors for a total of 240 seconds.		3	30,000
Reverent	Sacrifice Survivors to The Entity a total of 15 times. (Requires at least 4 Trials to complete.)		3	30,000
Gruesome	Hook Survivors a total of 24 times. (Requires at least 2 Trials to complete.)		3	30,000
Spilling Blood	Earn Devout Emblems of Gold Quality or higher a total of 3 times.		3	30,000
Property Damage	Damage Generators or destroy dropped Pallets for a total of 24 times.		3	30,000
Bloody Rewards	Earn a total of 100,000 Bloodpoints. (Post-Trial Bloodpoints are not counted.)		3	30,000
MASTER CHALLENGES
Working Under Pressure	Finish healing yourself 1 time within 10 meters of the Killer, while having Self-Care equipped.		5	50,000
Jailbrake	While being within 10 meters of the Killer, cause the Killer to drop 1 Survivor, while having Breakout equipped.		5	50,000
Means To An End	Stun the Killer with a Pallet that had been Reset 1 time, while having Any Means Necessary equipped.		5	50,000
My Obsession, My Nemesis	Hook the Obsession a total of 2 times in a single Trial, while having Nemesis equipped.		5	50,000
Skills Of A Surgeon	Playing as Claudette Morel, succeed at Healing Skill Checks a total of 3 times in a single Trial.		5	50,000
Start Your Engines	Playing as Yui Kimura, be chased by the Killer for a total of 60 seconds in a single Trial.		5	50,000
Samurai Slice	Playing as The Oni, hit Survivors with Demon Strikes a total of 4 times in a single Trial.		5	50,000
GLYPH CHALLENGES
Glyph Seeker	Commune with 5 Red Glyphs.		5	50,000

Completion Charm

Icon	Name	Rarity	Description
	Tower of the Strong	Very Rare	An enigmatic tower that stands out from the barren landscape.

Level 4

Challenge	Task	Character	Completion Rewards
Challenge	Task	Character
REGULAR CHALLENGES
As Long As It Gets Fixed	Complete repairs on Generators yourself, or by another Survivor, a total of 20 times. (Requires at least 4 Trials to complete.)		3	45,000
Generosity	Heal other Survivors for a total of 15 Health States.		3	45,000
High Skill	Succeed at Great Skill Checks a total of 10 times.		3	30,000
A True Friend	Safely unhook Survivors or take Protection Hits for a total of 25 times.		3	45,000
Grease Monkey	Fully deplete Toolboxes a total of 6 times.		3	45,000
Whatever It Takes	Stun the Killer a total of 12 times.		3	45,000
Heroic Virtue	Remain in the Trial while a total of 9 other Survivors escape.		3	45,000
Got You	Grab Survivors a total of 3 times.		3	45,000
Property Damage	Damage Generators or destroy dropped Pallets for a total of 35 times.		3	45,000
Ruthless Aggression	Earn Malicious Emblems of Iridescent Quality a total of 3 times.		3	45,000
Buried Underground	Hook Survivors in The Basement a total of 10 times.		3	45,000
Knockout	Knock down Survivors a total of 25 times.		3	45,000
Execution	Kill Survivors by any means a total of 12 times. (Requires at least 3 Trials to complete.)		3	45,000
Iridescent Age	Earn Emblems of Iridescent Quality a total of 8 times.		3	45,000
MASTER CHALLENGES
That's Rude	Point in the Killer's Direction within 5 seconds of Premonition activating, a total of 2 times in a single Trial.		5	60,000
Risky Repairs	Complete repairs on Generators while inside of the Killer's Terror Radius a total of 2 times in a single Trial.		5	60,000
Ripple Of Violence	Hit Survivors suffering from the Haemorrhage Status Effect with Basic Attacks a total of 6 times in a single Trial, while having Blood Echo equipped.		5	60,000
Battlefield Brilliance	Hit or Grab Survivors near Pallets, Windows, or Breakable Walls a total of 10 times in a single Trial, while having Zanshin Tactics equipped.		5	60,000
Samurai Slice	Playing as The Oni, hit 1 Survivor during a Demon Dash that lasted for at least 10 seconds.		5	60,000
GLYPH CHALLENGES
Glyph Seeker	Commune with 6 Red Glyphs.		5	60,000