The First Sign

The First Sign

In-universe date	Era Nova, October–November, Year 5
Real-world date	2026-10-03
Author	Percival van der Berg
Category Type	Character News

The first few experiments were much like the ones before them.

Nothing.

We tested the copper apparatus in several configurations, adjusting the plates, rods, and fittings while carefully recording each change. Some arrangements were dismantled almost immediately, while others were left in place for hours as we waited for even the smallest reaction.

The obsidian remained completely unchanged.

Still, I refused to abandon the experiment. We had already established that the structure was deliberate, and the brief distortion we had witnessed during our earlier work suggested that something was happening, even if we did not yet understand what.

We began comparing our notes from each experiment.

There was no obvious pattern. The copper components were similar in every arrangement, and yet only certain configurations had produced anything unusual.

I studied the sketches for some time before making another adjustment.

“Move this one slightly closer.”

One of my associates repositioned the copper fitting.

Nothing happened.

“Again. A little further.”

The fitting was moved.

For several seconds, there was silence.

Then came a faint sound.

It was little more than a low hum, barely audible beneath the crackling of the lamps and the movement of tools across the workshop. Everyone stopped what they were doing.

The sound grew slightly louder.

I turned toward the frame.

The air within it had begun to distort.

This time, it was far more noticeable.

The space between the obsidian blocks seemed to ripple, as though something invisible had disturbed the air. A faint glow appeared along the inner edges of the frame before vanishing just as quickly.

Then everything stopped.

The workshop fell silent.

I approached the frame cautiously, examining the obsidian and the copper fittings. Nothing appeared damaged. No component had moved, and there was no obvious source for the reaction we had just witnessed.

“Did you record that?”

My associate nodded.

I looked down at the notes.

The arrangement was almost identical to one we had tested earlier.

Almost.

I compared the measurements again, then looked back at the frame.

Whatever had happened was not random.

We had changed something.

The question was what.

We spent the remainder of the day attempting to reproduce the reaction. Most of our attempts failed, but eventually the hum returned, followed by the same brief distortion within the frame.

It lasted longer this time.

Only by a few moments, but long enough for me to see that the space within the frame was no longer behaving as ordinary air should.

I reached toward it, then stopped myself.

There was still too much we did not understand.

Instead, I recorded everything.

The sound. The distortion. The glow. The exact arrangement of every copper component.

For the first time, we had something more than speculation.

The structure could respond.

We simply had yet to discover how to make it respond consistently.

I closed my journal and looked over the apparatus.

Whatever this structure had been built to do, we were finally beginning to uncover it.

And I intended to find out exactly what.