VOID OF OBSCURITY: A TESTIMONY OF THE LAST WITNESS
Documented by Dr. Clara Wedom
Date: [DATA LOST]
I do not know if anyone will read this.
Perhaps these words will be swallowed by the same abyss that consumed everything else. Perhaps they will drift endlessly in the dark, just another fragment of a reality that no longer exists.
But if even one soul finds this record—if one mind can comprehend what transpired—then my existence has not been erased entirely.
THE BEGINNING OF NOTHING
The Void of Obscurity was never supposed to exist.
It was not some ancient cosmic horror, not a malevolent intelligence lurking in the shadows. It was something worse—a fundamental absence, a negation of all things.
It did not hunger.
It did not rage.
It did not want.
It simply was.
A region of total erasure. A place where the multiverse forgot. It was not like a black hole, where gravity pulls things inward. No—this was worse.
It did not consume. It unmade.
Memories of it faded the moment we turned away. Records became garbled nonsense. We sent probes, but the data returned blank. We sent ships—none came back.
But something had to be there. Something had to exist beyond the event horizon of understanding.
So I went.
And now, I am all that remains.
A PLACE WITHOUT EXISTENCE
I wish I could describe what I saw.
But even now, even as I force these words onto the page, my mind refuses to recall.
I remember the journey. The long descent into the uncharted dark. I remember the crew—names that slip through my fingers like sand. Faces that blur the harder I try to picture them.
And then—nothing.
Not blackness. Not emptiness. Not even silence.
I do not know how long I was there.
I do not know how I escaped.
All I know is that when I returned, no one remembered we had left.
Our mission logs were gone. Our ship had never been launched. The docking bay, untouched. And when I spoke their names—the names of the ones who had gone with me—no one knew who I was talking about.
As if they had never existed at all.
As if I had never existed at all.
THE FINAL ERASEMENT
I am not the same.
I see the Void in the corners of my vision.
I feel it pulling at my thoughts, erasing me thread by thread.
I know I do not have long.
This record will not last. It will be unmade, like everything else.
But if, by some miracle, this document survives—listen.
Do not search for the Void of Obscurity.
Do not try to understand it.
Do not try to remember.
Because the more you remember, the closer it comes.
And when it arrives, it will take you, too.
You will be forgotten.
You will be nothing.
And nothing never leaves.
[END OF RECORD]
Warning: FILE CORRUPTED. DATA INTEGRITY FAILING.
Retrieval Failed. Document does not exist.
> ERROR: "Dr. Clara Wedom" Not Found.
FILE: "RETURN" OF THE LOST WITNESS
Galactic Year: 4106
Survivor Identified: Dr. Clara Wedom
She should not have existed.
That was the first thing noted in the report.
Dr. Clara Wedom had been erased. Her name, her records, her history—gone, devoured by the Void of Obscurity a year ago. No traces, no echoes. The ISS, the MSC, even the Tree of Life itself held no memory of her.
And yet, here she was.
A silent figure on the white shores of an unremarkable Earth.
REDISCOVERY
Fiji, South Pacific. A quaint, oceanic country—primitive by galactic standards.
No planetary shields.
No spacefaring vessels.
No knowledge of the horrors lurking beyond their sky.
To them, the universe was still small—limited to their blue oceans and fading stars.
The first reports came from local fishermen. A woman sitting on the shore, unmoving for days. She did not eat. She did not drink. She did not sleep. She only stared—eyes locked on the endless tide, as if waiting for something to return.
Her clothing was in shreds, torn remnants of an ISS research uniform that no longer existed in the archives. Her ID badge was blank. The letters had long faded, leaving behind only the ghost of a name.
When ISS operatives arrived, she did not resist.
She did not speak.
She only followed.
THE HANDLING OF A GHOST
The moment her DNA was scanned, alarms blared across the ISS headquarters.
"Impossible."
"She's dead. We lost her."
"No, we didn't lose her. She was never here to begin with."
Yet the evidence was undeniable.
Dr. Clara Wedom—last survivor of the Void of Obscurity—was alive.
A walking paradox.
A glitch in reality.
No one knew what to do with her. Was she an anomaly? A remnant of something erased? A mistake the universe had accidentally let slip through?
The MSC refused jurisdiction. "She is your problem."
The ARC wanted to dissect her. "She should not be."
The Ethics Committee shut them down. "She is a person, not a specimen."
And so, the burden fell onto Dr. Helbram.
DR. HELBRAM: BABYSITTER OF THE IMPOSSIBLE
"Therapist? Psychologist? Are you serious?" Dr. Helbram snorted, slamming the file onto the table. "You're asking me to deal with the first recorded survivor of total erasure, and you think a few counseling sessions are gonna fix that?"
The room was silent.
A dozen ISS officials stared at him from across the table.
"You're the best at handling anomalies that talk," one of them finally said.
Helbram groaned. "That's because most anomalies don't talk. They just kill people or rewrite physics."
"Exactly," another chimed in. "She's neither of those things. She's… different."
"Right, and that's what makes this worse," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "What the hell am I even supposed to ask her? 'Hey, how was your year of non-existence? Did you enjoy being a cosmic contradiction?'"
"Do whatever you have to," the Commander said. "Just figure out what she is."
Helbram sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"Fine," he said, defeated. "I'll do it. But I'm charging overtime for this."
FIRST ENCOUNTER
Dr. Helbram sat across from her in his office, sipping from a mug labeled "MULTIVERSE'S BEST THERAPIST (AGAINST MY WILL)".
Dr. Clara Wedom sat motionless.
Her eyes, dark and hollow, locked onto the steam rising from his coffee as if it held the secrets of the cosmos.
"You drink coffee?" Helbram asked casually.
Silence.
"You know, I read your old files," he continued. "Before they, y'know… vanished from existence. Says here you used to like iced caramel lattes. Not bad. Good taste."
More silence.
Helbram sighed, setting his mug down.
"Okay, fine. Let's start simple." He folded his hands, leaning in slightly. "Do you know where you've been?"
For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then, her lips moved.
"I was nowhere."
Her voice was dry, cracked—like it hadn't been used in centuries.
Helbram nodded slowly.
"Alright. And do you remember how you got back?"
She blinked once.
"I didn't."
He raised an eyebrow.
"So you just… appeared? Out of thin air?"
She turned her gaze to him for the first time.
"No."
A pause.
"I was placed."
Helbram felt a chill crawl up his spine.
By what? By who?
He opened his mouth to press further—
And then he noticed something.
A mark.
Faint, barely visible, etched onto her wrist like an old scar. A symbol—one that did not belong to any known civilization in the ISS database.
A single eye.
Looking outward.
Watching.
Helbram frowned, feeling a headache coming on.
Oh, great.
This just got worse.
[END OF FILE]
FILE: INTERVIEW WITH A GHOST
Galactic Year: 4106
Subject: Dr. Clara Wedom
Interviewer: Dr. Helbram
Location: ISS Headquarters – Site 09, Anomaly Containment Division
INTRODUCTION
It had been three days since Dr. Clara Wedom was found on a distant Earth's shoreline.
Three days since the impossible happened.
Her vitals were stable. Her body showed no signs of decay, no aging beyond the point of her last recorded existence. Yet something was off. The medics couldn't put it into words—only that she seemed too still.
She did not sleep. She did not blink unless prompted.
Most disturbingly, she cast no shadow.
Helbram hated that part the most.
DAY 3 – SECOND SESSION
Dr. Helbram sighed as he walked into the containment wing, gripping his ever-present coffee mug like a lifeline.
He didn't bother checking the observation windows this time—he already knew she was there, sitting in the same place she always did: motionless in the chair, hands resting in her lap, staring into the nothing.
"Alright, Clara," Helbram greeted, plopping down into his own chair across from her. "Time for round two of 'How the Hell Are You Still Alive?'"
No response.
Helbram took a long sip of coffee.
"You know, I had a bet with the staff," he continued. "I said you'd say ten words, tops. The others were more optimistic. So how about this—you help me win, and I make sure you get a real drink next time. Maybe something fancy—galactic whiskey? Hell, I'll even take a bribe and get you an iced caramel latte."
Nothing.
He exhaled through his nose.
"Alright, fine. Back to business." He pulled out his datapad. "So, last time you said you were placed back here. Wanna expand on that?"
Her eyes shifted toward him—just barely.
"I do not know who did it."
Helbram raised an eyebrow.
"Okay. So you didn't see anyone?"
"No."
"But you're sure someone did it?"
"Yes."
He drummed his fingers against the table.
"Alright, let's talk about the Void of Obscurity." He leaned forward. "You were the last recorded researcher to study it before your, uh, incident. What do you remember about it?"
A long pause.
Then, softly—
"Everything."
Helbram felt something in the room shift. A tension, like the air had grown thicker.
"Okay." He swallowed, keeping his tone light. "That's a lot. Let's take it slow. What is the Void of Obscurity?"
Clara's fingers twitched.
"A place where even gods fear to look."
Helbram stopped breathing for a second.
"…Alright," he said, carefully neutral. "That's—yep. That's exactly the kind of creepy-ass answer I expected." He sighed, rubbing his temple. "Alright, then. If it's that bad, how did you get out?"
A pause.
Then:
"I was exchanged."
Helbram's grip on his mug tightened.
"…Exchanged for what?"
She finally looked at him.
Dead, hollow eyes.
"Something else."
A chill crawled down his spine.
His thoughts raced. Something else? What did that mean? Was it something in her place? Was it something wearing her skin?
No. No, she was real. The scans proved that. But that didn't mean there hadn't been… conditions.
Helbram exhaled slowly.
"…Do you remember what?"
Clara hesitated.
And then—
"No."
Helbram stared at her.
Was she lying?
Was she afraid to say?
Or was the truth something even she wasn't allowed to remember?
Great.
POST-SESSION NOTES
• Clara Wedom displays no known biological anomalies aside from the fact that she should not exist.
• No memory loss aside from the "exchange."
• No indication of psychological distress. In fact, no emotional responses at all.
• Further analysis required regarding the mark on her wrist—the single watching eye.
FINAL NOTE – PERSONAL LOG
Helbram's Personal Recording – Galactic Year 4106
I don't like this.
I've dealt with my share of anomalies—eldritch beings, cosmic horrors, timeline fractures, all that good shit. But Clara?
She's wrong. Not in a "she's evil" way. Not even in a "she's dangerous" way. Just…wrong. Like a puzzle piece that doesn't fit anywhere.
The MSC won't touch her. The ARC wants her dissected. The ISS is keeping her under surveillance, but we all know that's not enough. There's something bigger at play here. And the worst part?
I think she knows it too.
…I just don't think she cares.
[END OF FILE]