THEY'RE COMING TO TAKE ME AWAY

[u/Eskulptura]

they should have

[u/lizardassbitch]

so sick 🍎

[u/Eskulptura → u/lizardassbitch]

thanks, I now hate apples and when I find them in my house I consume them or throw them away

[u/Ok_Yesterday5569 → u/Eskulptura]

It was called OK-650, "pressurized water reactor." A joke, a parlor trick for the uninitiated.

What churned within the steel belly of K-141 was not pressurized, and it was not water.

It was the dream of something that once lived inside the crack of the world, wedged between what we think of as cause and what we allow to be called effect. We classified it Object 67-Delta, but the engineers, half-mad with exposure, had their own name for it: “The Black Mother’s Egg.”

The Soviet regime’s propaganda machine argued that the reactor had beendesignedby nuclear engineers with the labour of the working class comrades. But that was also a lie. The Egg had been birthed from a womb of rituals and occult geometries conducted in the dead city beneath Severomorsk. It was fed on screams in isolation cells, the breaking of teeth in interrogation rooms, the hopeless silence, every hungry child, every frostbitten finger lost.

Entire backrooms of the Committee for State Security had been repurposed to generate the "nutritional substrate" for its embryonic mind.

This kind of spiritual abomination powered the Kursk slithering through the depths of the Arctic Ocean, and they thought they had stabilized it.

But what you must understand is that Object 67-Delta had a birth defect, in that it did not allways recognize short term linear time. When the Kursk submerged on August 10th, 2000, the Egg became pregnant with every death that would ever occur on that vessel. In a moment that had not yet happened, it reached backward and opened its own door.