In the silence where shadows weep,
Where memories fall and never keep,
There lies a song that time forgot,
A melody tangled, a silent knot.
Sterile hallways led to sterile rooms. Walls warped and doors flickered in and out of existence. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh, unfeeling glows that seemed to drain the warmth from the very air. The walls, white and barren, stretched endlessly, their smooth surfaces devoid of any hint of life, not even micro-bacteria could survive here. There were no windows in this place, no windows to the world outside, no glimpses of nature or anything that could remind those who worked here of the outside. Only sterile walls, sterile air, and the endless hum of machinery that kept the structure alive, but never quite living.
This was the Conduit, and all was right. And yet, for all its importance, the Conduit was a place of clinical detachment, a factory of the unknown. No one outside the Department of Occult Transportation even knew of its existence. And those within, who were tasked with maintaining it, often found themselves lost within its sterile, ever-shifting walls.
Still, the workers came and went, and the Conduit persisted, stretching ever onward, its sterile walls a paradox, both a safeguard and a cage. Some got lost in the Conduits shifting halls and others quit on their first day, but some stayed.
For those who stayed, the passage of time became irrelevant. Hours, days, maybe even weeks could slip by unnoticed as they wandered through rooms that defied all logical understanding. In the beginning, the disorienting nature of the Conduit, its shifting doors, flickering lights, and the endless hum of machinery just out of reach, was enough to drive the mind to madness. But over time, the workers grew accustomed to it. They found ways to navigate the labyrinth, mapping out the shifting patterns of doors and walls, learning to trust the subtle rhythm of the place, even if it often made no sense.
And so, the Conduit persisted. The workers came and went, their lives tied to its shifting halls, and the machinery of the unknown continued to hum.
Some were unsure how they even came to work here, they had signed no forms and certainly hadn't been sent any letters, they just came and went and came and went and came and went…
There was a calming stillness within the Conduit, a stillness that could almost be mistaken for peace, if one didn’t listen too closely. If one didn’t allow themselves to feel the quiet tremors beneath the smooth surfaces, the subtle flickers of movement just beyond the corner of their vision. In this stillness, the workers found a strange comfort. It was a void, but a void that seemed to offer shelter.
And so the workers came and went and came and went and came and went…
No one dared question who ran the Department or why they didn't answer to the president, they just came and went and came and went and came and went…
The Department of Occult Transportation was a name they had never questioned, a label that existed in the air but held no substance. No one knew who made the decisions, who paid their salaries, or even who would notice if they simply disappeared. They never saw higher-ups, never heard any voices besides their own and the soft buzz of machinery. The Conduit was the beginning and the end, a place without hierarchy, without reason, an entity unto itself.
And so, they continued. The workers came and went, moved through the labyrinth, and performed their duties. The Conduit stretched onward, endless and inscrutable. No questions, no answers, only the unknown.
The workers simply came and went. It was enough.
Conduit | Came and Went | Soon »