Dear Bookah. I sometimes feel as if I’ve given birth to this Province. Somewhere, between the verisimilitudes of the jungle and geodesic batteries a split opened up and order evolved here. No matter how hard I ponder, Metrica Province remains a singularity, an alpha point in my life that refuses all hypotheses. I return each time making my mark in this zone that I hope, in the blinding glare of my genius, will have blossomed into progress beyond this anomaly.
Drojjenny reported the legend of the savant; an intellectual asura who sought intelligence in its most pure form. Allegedly, he warped here from the Mists in a transparent energy shell, so all the unformed possibilities of the Mists could etch a reality on to the shell. How disappointed he must have been with this rubbish. Perhaps later, when all that will haunt the Mists are unbounded energies, he’d find more peace. They say he blew up his lab and krewe on the eastside of the Province; they say he died of chaotic malformations one hundred and sixteen years later. The elementals left gifts for him at the hollow of his lab, but Drojjenny records they never claimed to have seen him. I have visited the cave and I have searched for any remaining data vessels, but like the others, I appear to be an unworthy subject of his philosophies.
Editor’s Note: I’ve been working on this project for sometime. It is a parody of the game Dear Esther told as a tale of an asura adventuring through Metrica Province. My goal is to provide continuous updates of this series complete with its own mysteries. Eventually I plan on annoying Ethic until he sets up a tab for this series above, but I’ll wait until I am a few posts in for that. –Ravious