The Magnus Archives - The Magnus Protocol 50 - Deep Trouble

Episode Date: September 4, 2025

CATXXXX-XXXXXXXX-XXXXXXXXERROR (Unknown Source)Incident Elements:·    Graphic Violence·    Death·    Spatial/visual distortion·    Thalassophobia·    Claustrophobia·    Body Horror·    Mentions of: immolation, drowning, crushing, choking·    SFX: buzzing, screamingTranscripts available at https://rustyquill.com/transcripts/the-magnus-protocol/You can find a complete list of our Kickstarter backers https://rustyquill.com/the-magnus-protocol-supporter-wall/Created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J NewallDirected by Alexander J NewallWritten by Jonathan SimsScript Edited with additional material by Alexander J NewallExecutive Producers April Sumner, Alexander J Newall, Jonathan Sims, Dani McDonough, Linn Ci, and Samantha F.G. HamiltonAssociate Producers Jordan L. Hawk, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetius d’Raven, and Megan NiceProduced by April SumnerFeaturing (in order of appearance) Marta de Silva as Warden OliviaGeorge Bunting as Warden CallumLydia Nicholas as Melanie KingSasha Sienna as Georgie BarkerShahan Hamza as Samama KhalidFrank Voss as Basira HussainBeth Eyre as The ArchivistBillie Hindle as Alice DyerDialogue Editor – Lowri Ann DaviesSound Designer – Tessa VroomMastering Editor - Catherine RinellaMusic by Sam Jones (orchestral mix by Jake Jackson)Art by April SumnerSFX by Soundly and Freesound: maxthrower, iwanPlays, dav0r, Yuval, SpliceSound, trpete, Artninja, oscaraudiogeek, nioczkus, launemax, gadiraz, serøtōnin, tran5ient, martian, morganpurkis, annannienann, peridactyloptrix, melle_teich, Tim_Verberne, dalexgray, shutuplaika, and previously credited artistsCheck out our merchandise available at https://www.redbubble.com/people/RustyQuill/shop and https://www.teepublic.com/stores/rusty-quillSupport Rusty Quill by purchasing from our Affiliates;DriveThruRPG – DriveThruRPG.comJoin our community:WEBSITE: rustyquill.comFACEBOOK: facebook.com/therustyquillX: @therustyquillEMAIL: [e-mail] Magnus Protocol is a derivative product of the Magnus Archives, created by Rusty Quill Ltd. and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Share alike 4.0 International Licence. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

RustyQuil Presents The Magnus Protocol Episode 50 Deep Trouble We're going to be able to be. Nothing. Clear? Clear. Quadrant Bravo. Section 14. Clear. Copy team three. Proceed to section 13.

Copy. So, you hoping to find it or miss it? What do you mean? Feels good to bag a horror, but this sounds rough. So, would you rather get the credit or steer clear? Depends how it feels about getting shot? You might be in luck then. Rumour is, this one used to be human.

human. Rumor is, this one used to be a very particular human. Oh, you've heard that too, right? Do you believe it? I don't know. I hope not, but they're using the A word, so it's definitely not nothing. Hmm. Seems like we'd know if you were back, though. Like, it would feel different. Different? Different. How? Like, the world we're ending again. It doesn't... feel like that to you? I mean, I've never seen the zone this bad. Not since right after Towerfall. And even then, you could generally believe what you were seeing.

Now, I don't know. You recognise that door? The one with the peephole? Because I've patrolled this section for years, and I don't recognise it. I'm not even going near it, because I know if I turn my head this way, head this way and back. Yep, it's gone. Just another mirage. So yeah, it does kind of feel. Callum. Callum, sit rip. Do you copy?

I'm down. Callum, Christ. Are you... Deep down. Down below the waves that crash above in royale. Call on. Control? This is one... But it is nothing to me in my iron tomb that cruises, sleek and deadly through the brine.

I am in my cell, my bunk, my bed that presses up so hard against the icy metal of the borkhead that no more than an inch of rust-pox steel stands between the crushing abyss and my time. and my tiny shivering body. And I do shiver as the pressure builds and the captain's voice roams from the squat speakers in the shadowed corners of every compartment. It is distorted, cracking, but I know he is demanding loyalty over and over.

The sound vibrates the timpot medal on my chest and blood oozes from the holes the pins punched into my skin when they stuck it there for my dutiful service. My duty is on the bridge, the command deck, the wheelhouse. I am to sit at the radio and call for help, call for orders, call for anyone to hear us through countless fathoms of dark water and infinite miles of empty air. The captain will stare at me with his empty sockets,

and when he tears the tonneye mouthpiece from his jaw for wet, tearing pop, He will swap to dictating messages through his bloody saliva. Messages that will not be received and cannot be replied to. Messages that make no sense and simply scream of Poseidon, of Neptune, of Mazu, of Lafayevon, of Susannu, of wet and sightless water gods, I do not know, but which tremble through my stomach when I am forced to repeat the names into empty radio waves. The rest of the crew scuttle and crawl across their stations, doing their duty in the thick red light. Sometimes one of them will approach to periscope.

They will put their faces to the hungry eyepiece, and then they will begin to scream. You cannot see their eyes behind the metal tube, but you can hear them being taken. Then the skull begins to crack and implode gradually crushing itself into a thin pink paste, as it feeds itself into the periscope. Then the torso, shoulders, arms, going all the way down. The order is different each time, but it always ends the same, with the gorged periscope dragging itself contentedly up into the dark, sated for a while. I don't know our mission, although sometimes the missiles whispered to me in my sleep.

They want me to come to them, to open them, to take their payloads into my heart. They can help the say. They can keep me safe. I want to believe them, but my flesh melts when I embrace them, and it sticks to their holes when I pull myself away. When we reach our destination, the mission will begin, and we will do something terrible, something unforgivable, something that will scar our souls in ways that will leave us other than human. But unless someone answers my hopeless calls for new orders, the only thing that can stop. is a mine or a depth charge. If that happens, a terrible, wounding vibration will shove through the submarine, the sound deafening inside and echoing through the water outside.

Those closest will be killed instantly to the envy of all. The rest of us will flee in this sealed tube crying out for mother's love and salvation as the precious spikes and water tears and the doors buckle from the icy fist of the deep ocean. Doors that stay just sturdy enough to imprison those who fell behind who lingered for a second too long in morbid fascination of their doom. Not sturdy enough to muffle their cries for help that linger long after they have drowned and frozen and pounded their heads to pulp upon the wheellock. Where there is not water, there is fire filling the rusted oven of warped and twisting metal. It feasts on the sparse oxygen yanking the very air from your lungs to be. burn it in front of you. Again, if you look at you catch fire and die in the brightness,

with your own fat burning like candle wax. Otherwise, the darkness of the seabed awaits. This time I'm in my cell. My bunk, my bed, as the depth charge hits, I see the bulkhead metal twist and bend, but not break, instead pressing in. Folding and squeezing is rivets popping, my rivets popping, and no more air can reach me. Anything? Found a gun? Damn it. Where is he? And fear floods my soul. I know I cannot call for help. Where now?

I don't know. I don't recognize any of this. It's just life, after all. So with Kathy. It feels like this for everyone. Callum! Callum, no! What do we do? I don't! Georgie, I need you!

We keep hunting. Callum knew the risks and... God, have you ever even held a gun before? I did grey pigeon on a stagoo once? Right, well rule one, keep it pointing away from your mates. Rule two, you need to hold it properly. Tight to the shoulder, otherwise you'll break your arm. Better?

Better? Georgie? This isn't right. What do you... Georgie, look out. What? Behind you... Wait.

No, wait, it's gone. I was certain I saw... That's what's wrong. Everything's getting mixed up. All passages with new dead ends, new doors and old ruins. Georgie! So is that really Melanie or... Over here!

Bezira, I told you to watch the perimeter! I'm not one of your wardens. You don't know. to give me orders. Besides, Melanie needed an escort. And what is Melanie doing out here? We've been trying to get you on the radio, but Callum has been jamming every frequency. What's happened? It's that girl you brought in. Alice? She's gone. What do you mean gone?

I mean, she's gone. She wasn't a prisoner, so she just walked out while we were distracted. Christ. It gets worse. I've been trying to correlate the positions people have been reporting. And? And they don't make any sense. And no one else. seems to realize. Nobody is where they think they are. Melanie is the only one who doesn't seem to be affected. I think it might be because, you know. You can say blind, Lucera. It's not a rude word. Look, the point is that nobody can trust their eyes in here. I think the archivist is using them. God damn it. We're not prepped for this amount of bullshit. All wardens, mission aborted,

fall back. I repeat. All wardens, we are falling back to base. Enemy is using visual manipulation to follow only known routes. And if you see a female civilian wearing a medical gown, call it in but do not approach. Copy. Copy. What about us? We follow Melanie. You're welcome.

So if the archivist can control our eyes, does that mean he can see out of them? I really hope not. I'm not doing that a liar's shit again. What? Ignore her. Things are confused enough as it is. Shut your eyes if you're worried about it, Sam. It's not like they're helping. Um, you all felt that, right? Because I have my eyes shut, so... Georgie, I think we need to...

Ah! Melanie? Alive. I think my arm's broken though. Can you move? Here. Yeah. I think I'm all right. Mostly. What happened?

We fell. London always had a warren underneath it and after years without upkeep. You can fall through. Especially if the zone is agitated. Where are the others? Good question. Georgie! Bacira!

You don't know what else is listening. Sorry. Now if you're done trying to get the attention of every monster in the zone, I need your help. Okay, it doesn't look too bad, but it's going to need a sling. Bear with me. Thanks. Do you think you can still get us out of the zone? I don't know.

Above ground. Maybe, but... but down here. Do you feel that? Yeah. Can you see anything? I don't. It's here. Get away from me.

John! John! Is that you? No archivist. Answer me. Are you? Were you once a man named Jonathan Sims? Simms. Simms.

Simms. No. Not Sims, but I am his story. Huh, I guess I owe Georgie a drink. So if you're not Jonathan Sims, then who are you? Who am I? I am the one who asked Sam. Who are you found...

When I was five years old, my mother took me to a zoo. I don't remember the name of it. And afterwards, she wouldn't tell me. It smelled wrong. Get away from him! Alice! No! Here!

Here! We're going over here! Maybe if it's asking your story. It is told. I'm tired. Sorry to disappoint. Sam. No!

Lucky Sam. Lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky. I found it. Alice. And there we go. Oh, oh. I hate this medical shit. shit. Most people would kill to have access to all this medical shit. You're lucky it was

only dislocated. It could have been a lot worse. It was. I'm sorry, if we found you earlier, maybe... It wouldn't have made a difference. If Alice hadn't, then I'd be the one in the morgue right now. I know she wasn't my Alice, but she was still Alice, and I... There was nothing. She didn't deserve that. No one ever does. Listen, I know we're hurting. I know we just want to call it a day and lick our wounds,

but we still need to figure out what we're going to do about the Archivist. Georgie? No. She's right. You're sure it wasn't him, Melanie? Positive. It actively denied it, and besides that voice, it's not him. Right, well, I'll take that as a win for now.

But we still don't have a way to track it, or kill it. And with all these new powers in the zone, we're going to struggle. Yeah. That's not our only problem. More bad news. I noticed something as we were coming out. I didn't trust my eyes, so I had a couple of wardens confirm it later. What?

You know that slight warping effect at the edge of the zone? The shimmer, yeah. What about it? It's moved. What do you mean, it's moved? It's at least a metre beyond the fencing already. It's the archivist. It has to be. Yeah. I think the zone has been growing since it arrived and now... Oh, fuck.

The Magnus Protocol is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill and licensed under a Creative Commons attribution non-commercial share-a-like 4.0 international license. The series is created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J. Newell, and directed by Alexander J. Newell. This episode was written by Jonathan Sims and edited with additional materials by Alexander J. Newell, with vocal edits by Lowryan Davis, soundscaping by Tess of Room, and mastering by Catherine Rinella, with music by Sam Jones. It featured Shahan Hamza as Samama Khalid, Sasha Sienna as Georgie Barker, Lydia Nicholas as Melanie King. Billy Hindle as Alice Dyer, with additional voices from Beth Eyre. The Magnus Protocol is produced by April Sumner, with executive producers Alexander J. Newell, Danny McDonough, Lynn C. and Samantha F.G. Hamilton, and associate producers Jordan L. Hawke, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetia Stor Raven, and Megan Nice.

To subscribe, view Associated Materials, or join our... our Patreon, visit RustyQuill.com. Rate and review us online, tweet us at The Rusty Quill, visit us on Facebook or email us at Mail at RustyQuill.com. Thanks for listening.