The Magnus Archives - MAG 160 - The Eye Opens

Episode Date: October 31, 2019

Case #0181810Vigilo, Audio, SupervenioThanks to this week's Patrons: Fast or Write, Capricious Cacti, C. X. Lu, Stick in Hand, Margaery Clare, Cora, aritchie, Brian Greenwald, Elita Grunde, majesticrhyhorn, Jon Williams, Sigma Bunny, Jack, Rainny Q, Charlotte Ballantyne, Kerry Cobey, Roseann White, Bennett BurnsIf you would like to join them, be sure to visit www.patreon.com/rustyquillEdited this week by Elizabeth Moffatt, Brock Winstead & Alexander J Newall.Written by Jonathan Sims and directed by Alexander J Newall.Performances:- "The Archivist" - Jonathan Sims- "Martin Blackwood" - Alexander J NewallSound effects this week by Skipmedia, Mydo1, flag 2, Sage trytle, Coral_Island_Studios, kd_jack & previously credited artists via freesound.org.Check out our merchandise at https://www.redbubble.com/people/rustyquill/collections/708982-the-magnus-archives-s1You can subscribe to this podcast using your podcast software of choice, or by visiting www.rustyquill.com/subscribePlease rate and review on your software of choice, it really helps us to spread the podcast to new listeners, so share the fear.Content warnings:- Coercion / Abuse of power- Mortality- Mention of pet death- ChangeJoin our community:WEBSITE: rustyquill.comFACEBOOK: facebook.com/therustyquillTWITTER: @therustyquillREDDIT: reddit.com/r/RustyQuillEMAIL: [e-mail] Magnus Archives is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill Ltd. and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Sharealike 4.0 International Licence Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This is the first radio ad you can smell. The new Cinnabon pull-apart only at Wendy's. It's ooey, gooey, and just five bucks for the small coffee all day long. Taxes extra at participating Wendy's until May 5th. Terms and conditions apply. Hi everyone, Alex here. I'd just like to take a moment to thank some of our patrons. Fast or Right, Capricious Cacti, CX Lou, Sticking Hand, Marjorie Clare, Cora, Arichi, Thank you all. We really appreciate your support. If you'd like to join them, go to www.patreon.com forward slash Rusty Quill and take a look at our rewards. Rusty Quill Presents The Magnus Archives Episode 160 The Eye Opens. Everything alright?

Just making sure it works. Still don't think we should have brought it. Oh, it's better than no warning at all. Especially if I'm trying not to see things, you know. I guess. Your own pack, then? Oh, yes. Much as I can without any wardrobes to speak of, at least.

Yeah, it's not exactly the Ritz. Well, it technically still belongs to Daisy, so... I'm just glad it's not some sort of kill room. Or it is, and she just cleaned it up really well. Yes. Are we... Are we safe here? Safe as anywhere else.

If Elias wanted to find us, I imagine he could, but I doubt the police would be able to. If nothing else, I'm hoping there'd be some jurisdiction complications in Scotland or something. Somehow I don't think Daisy will be worried about jurisdictions. I don't think she'd come here. Doesn't look like this place has been used for years. And if she does? Well, at least we'll know where she is. Besides, I'm more worried about the other hunters, or the Sasha thing. Last I heard, they still hadn't found any bodies. A lot of destruction, a lot of blood, but that's it. You think they're still out there? Hopefully a long way out there. But I think

we're okay. Not much in the way of food, is there? Oh, no, not yet. I was actually going to head down into the village to go pick something up. Maybe give Basira a call to check in, because Daisy apparently couldn't pick a safe house with a signal. I think that's rather the point. Anyway, don't tell me the phone box down there doesn't appeal to your retro aesthetic. It might. Maybe. You'll be okay here? I'll be fine.

How was she? Same as last week. Institute still crawling with police? I mean, they've finished all the interviews. Apparently they're calling it a terror attack. Doesn't surprise me. Appropriate, in a way. Does she know who they're looking to blame?

They're not really talking to her about it. Sectioned or not, I guess ex-police only gets you so far. Does she know if they've found the old prison yet? The panopticon? Like, Magnus's body? I don't know how hard they're looking, to be honest. Basira says a few of them got lost in the tunnels for over a day, and it's not like the promise of an old man's corpse is much of a motivator. Still, she did manage to talk them out of burning the whole place to the ground. Oh, actually, that reminds

me. Ah, these are the statements? Yes. Basira said last week she'd send some up as soon as the archives weren't a crime scene. She wasn't sure which one she'd read already so she just said she'd send a bunch. There's tapes in here as well. Did she say anything about tapes? She didn't mention it, but I didn't check it till after the call.

I assume it's her attempt at a varied diet? Eating your greens, you know? Probably. I'm sure it'll work fine. Cool. Well, as fun as listening to you monologue is, I will give you some privacy. Go for a walk. Let me know if you see any good cows. Obviously I'm going to tell you if I see any good cows.

Right. Statement of Hazel Rutter regarding a fire in her childhood home Original statement given August 9th, 1992 Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archivist Statement begins Hello, John Apologies for the deception, but I rather wanted to make sure you started reading

So I thought it best not to announce myself. I'm assuming you're alone. You always did prefer to read your statements in private. I wouldn't try too hard to stop reading. There's every likelihood you'll just hurt yourself. So just listen. Now, shall we turn the page and try again? Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, the archivist. Statement begins. I hope you forgive me the self-indulgence but I have worked so very hard for this moment, the culmination of two centuries of work. It's rare that you get the chance to monologue through the voice of another, and you can't tell me you're not curious. Why does a man seek to destroy the world? It's a simple enough answer.

For immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but, my God, the discovery not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear. It is an awful thing to know about yourself but the freedom, John, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these dread powers all for my own gain and I feel nothing but satisfaction in that choice. I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

I believe there are far more people in this world who would take that bargain than you would ever guess, and I have beaten all of them. Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When Smirk first gathered our little band, Lucas, Scott, and the rest, to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from Rayna, I felt what I believe we all felt—curiosity and fear. But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. Smirk was still so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of their patrons.

I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world. At first I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation, was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race. Beyond that I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror? I convinced Smirk to work on Milbank, leading him to design it

as a temple to all the fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the panopticon went unmarked. It took years for the dread of the prisoners that passed through to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man by the time I made my first attempt at the Watcher's crown, sat in the centre of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet. It was flawed, of course, as all Smirk's rituals were, and none of the inmates survived, as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it. But it left me a gift, for sat in that watchtower I could see everything I

turned my mind to. It was a dizzying power, and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organisation I had founded to assist in my research down to London, and the Institute as you know it was born. I'll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say, I kept busy both planning my own next attempts and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own. Surely my interpretation of the

Watcher's Crown had been incomplete. There had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked. It was not until I met Gertrude Robinson that things began to really come into focus. You see, the role of archivist has been part of the beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn't uncommon for the Powers. Most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings. But Gertrude was unlike any other archivist. She simply did not care about collecting experiences or compiling the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the powers. More than once I thought she must secretly be of the hunt,

but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times. I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the desolation had killed her cat. I don't know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure. In any case, Gertrude's ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost 150 years. In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded? Perhaps there were a long line of Gertrude Robinsons throughout history that I found that hard to credit.

Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn't succeed? She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People's Church. When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn't afford to be wrong. She was going to wait and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all those years ago. Knowing Gertrude, I'm sure she had a back-up plan if she had miscalculated, but she had not. The ritual failed, and all at once I realized what needed to be done.

You see, the thing about the fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the panic of hunted prey? When does the mask of the stranger become the deception of the spiral? Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down. To try and create a world with only the buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive

a world with only down. Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself impossible. They could bring their patron close, but could not sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back to the place next to reality where they dwell. The solution, then, is simple. violently pulled back to the place next to reality where they dwell. The solution, then, is simple. A new ritual must be devised that will bring through all the powers at once. All fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new powers

such as extinction were able to fully emerge. All under the eyes of auspices, of course. We mustn't forget our roots. And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a linchpin for this new ritual. The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant thanks to Gertrude's ill-timed retirement plans. Because the thing about the Archivist is that, well, it's a bit of a misnomer. It might, perhaps, be better named the Archive. Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, John. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering dread of each statement, and in body as the powers each leave their mark upon you. You are a living chronicle of terror. Perhaps then, if I could find an

archivist and have each power mark them, have them confront each one, and each in turn instill in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this nightmare kingdom. Do you see where I'm going, John? It does tickle me that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the chosen one is simply that, someone I chose. It's not in your blood or your soul or your destiny. It's just in your own rotten luck. I'll admit my options were somewhat limited, but my god, when you came to me already marked by the web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the spider as a sort of implicit blessing on my whole project, and do you know what? I think it was. Of course I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked.

get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked. So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the archives were not uncommon during Gertrude's tenure, and while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be. I reasoned if you couldn't survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So when Jane Prentiss attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start. You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how much further you would get. Though I waited until the worms were in you to pull the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones. The discovery that one of the stranger's minions had infiltrated the Institute in the

aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that vague wrongness you couldn't quite place, wouldn't count as a mark, it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct and affecting manner. Admittedly, given the advent of the unknowing, I needn't have bothered. But what's the old saying about hindsight? More important to me was Sasha's encounter with the distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path. So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement. Poor Helen. I actually had

to put her in a taxi myself. She was getting so lost on those narrow London side streets. It worked, though. Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its door, you're marked very deep by the spiral. Jürgen Leitner was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much Gertrude would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast. I justified it to myself, saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway if you were going to encounter more of the powers, but I can't honestly pretend it wasn't a rather rash move. Still, I'd requested Detective Tonner be assigned to the case when they found Gertrude's body in the hope that having a hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened

that. Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few avatars I thought were likely to harm you, but probably would stop short of actually killing you. Jude served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr. Crew, marking you for the desolation and the vast. Honestly, I had nothing to do with Melanie and her slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation I made sure to trap her here, so whenever her rage bubbled over you were right there, a ready target. I didn't foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise. The unknowing was a distraction, but not an unwelcome one. For this to work, you needed more than just the marks.

You needed power. And that was something the unknowing served to test, though it posed no actual danger in the grand scheme of things. And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you'd just die too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why. As it was, it was just right. And once again you came through with flying colours. By this point your abilities were coming on in leaps and bounds

and I was concerned that meeting face to face might end up with you knowing something you shouldn't. I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well, it was simple enough to cut a deal. All that remained then were the dark, the flesh, the buried and the lonely. I was a little put out when that idiot Jar Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital. But then, you should have seen my face when you voluntarily went to him.

I couldn't see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I'm very sure it counts as a mark. came out, I'm very sure it counts as a mark. I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, er, restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase and waiting. Honestly, Detective Tonner has proven invaluable through this whole process. I was racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in. And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way. Then all that remained was the lonely poor Peter

he really should have left well enough alone or just done what I asked in the first place ah well he knew what I was attempting and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about Martin. Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.

How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won't you? He's earned that. And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience. You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the ceaseless watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here. Our victory is here. Don't worry, John. You'll get used to it here,

in the world that we have made. Now, repeat after me. You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right. Come to us in your wholeness. Come to us in your wholeness. Come to us in your perfection.

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies. Come to us. I open the door! Wake up. John, John, John, wake up! Martin? John! What? Oh God! What happened? I don't know. Everything... It's all gone wrong. Help me up! No, no, no. Don't go outside. It's real bad. Oh God! I don't know if it's just here, or if it's... No, it's everywhere.

They're all here now. I can feel all of it. John, I'm scared. The whole world is afraid, Martin. Because of me. And the Watcher drinks it all in. John? Look at the sky, Martin.

Look at the sky. It's looking back. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha The Magnus Archives will return April 2020. The Magnus Archives is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Sharealike 4.0 international license. Today's episode was written by Jonathan Sims and directed by Alexander J. Newell. To subscribe, view associated material, or join our Patreon, visit RustyQuill.com. Rate and review us online, tweet us at TheRustyQuill, visit us on Facebook, or email us at MailAtRustyQuill.com. Thanks for listening. To be continued... stories, Audible has everything you need. Audible is the leader in audiobooks, so you'll always find the best and freshest selection of mysteries and thrillers to choose from. Sometimes you just want

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