The Moving Staircase of the Beast

I’ve been having more dreams.

This time, I dreamed that I was trapped in a sort of hell, layered like Dante’s Inferno, and my father was leading me through it—just his voice, rather—telling me about my fate, the significance of my past, the dangers in my future. I followed his voice through the maze of pain and suffering, seeing things that were terrible … not a good dream.

“I am alone in space,” I heard my dad say at one point, “with emptiness on every side. I can see nothing but the moving staircase of the beast.”

The spiralling hell seemed to go on and on, until finally we reached the surface of earth, and my father told me, “Grey Belfast dawn illuminates you…” And then he was gone. And I woke up.

It was just a nightmare. But still, I’m left with a feeling that I don’t want to end up like my father; that he was truly alone, in the end, and that he was so sad, having destroyed the things he loved.

This game sometimes feels like a sort of maze. I’m often confused. It’s clear that some people are in their element and discover things quickly, but many like me are usually lost. I have to say, I’m not used to asking for or accepting help. I hate it, in fact, and always have. But in this case, if I’m to be any kind of proper protagonist, I do need help.

For one thing, we need more conspirators. There are just a few of us, and there is a deluge of potentially useful information all the time. Does anyone have any ideas of how to get more conspirators on board?

Maybe I’ll contact @visiblebelfast directly and ask what to do. Although it seems wrong somehow … like giving up.