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The Bratstvo Noćnih Mesara sent a team to investiage a stolen truck (Truck full of crack) It was very important to them. They went to blow a wall to find the truck but they never saw the Omen Corp watching....... https://gtm.steamproxy.vip/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3476514148
Bratstvo Noćnih Mesara scouts informed two sentrys that they spotted Omen Corp troopers near their posision... https://gtm.steamproxy.vip/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3476514339
A Mesara Wolf had captured a Omen Corp trooper near their crack farm... https://gtm.steamproxy.vip/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3476514612
small crossover between Cybercromancy a Cormandy Republic
How the reactor incident started. RAISING CONTROL RODS
"Troopers recently starting talking about a dreadmarshal, who got a sadistic hobby. He ripping armors of the dead victims and putting on himself, some of the troopers says that he collect them for fun. Disgusting" LUN First Lieutenant [REDACTED]
"One of the Recon squad has reported that they found a old warehouse. When they enter the building, they found only blood and many armors piecies on chains. This mean only one thing, they found the Collector collection. Luckily collector wasn't been there and they returned safely.
LUN First Lieutenant [REDACTED]
"That thing.....the collector attack other robots! He just rush to them and... aaaand start ripping them apart! I think for their... armors..... thanks god that hhh...e didn't see me!.... I need to catch..... a breath". Recon Trooper giving raport to the First Lieutenant [REDACTED]
No. They're another cult.
Officially, it began as a therapeutic experiment. Lester Kidwelly, a former psychoanalyst and neuroscientist, founded Project Thelemaware after years embedded in Arcanum’s behavioral research wing. The stated objective was benign: improve mental health, restore emotional balance, reduce burnout. But the true intent ran deeper and darker.
By 2079, retention rates across Black Valley had plummeted. Engineers spoke of emotional numbness. Security staff reported sleep-terror incidents. AI developers were self-terminating. Something had to be done. Arcanum solution was neither medical nor ethical, it was... surprisingly spiritual...
Thelemaware was introduced as a “neuro-spiritual wellness program", aimed at reconnecting personnel to themselves through identity fluidity and neural unshackling.
Hidden beneath Arca-6, in sublevels never listed on corporate schematics, Thelemaware operated in a maze of dimly lit reconstruction sanctums. Volunteers streamed in, scientists, guards, technicians, all drawn by promises of transcendence and mental wellness. They underwent psychoactive implant sessions, language de-patterning, and choreographed sensory assault. Pain and pleasure were merged. Bodies were modified with symbolic lesions, tracking their progress through stages of initiation. Memories were blurred. Guilt was erased. Identity became optional.
Sessions deepened into chemical rites: targeted neurodrugs, sensory deprivation, and eroticized group therapy designed to erode boundaries of identity and morality. Orgies weren’t just permitted, they were procedural. Neo-LSD derivatives blended with engineered oxytocin storms to create states of euphoric compliance. Instructors called Guides led participants through psychodramas where guilt, shame, and individuality were burned away in controlled emotional implosions.
The ultimate stage of the process was called Unveilment a threshold ritual wherein the participant “surrendered the mask of self” through psychedelic immersion, group intimacy, and symbolic acts of transgression. No single Unveilment was alike. Some involved sexual initiation. Others, ritual violence. All acts were permitted. All boundaries dissolved. The subject was told: “Do not think. Do not resist. Follow only your urge.”
Each Unveilment was unique. All ended the same.
The participant emerged altered, serene, emptied, radiating a synthetic calm. Neurochemical euphoria dulled all anxiety; self-doubt was gone. So too were guilt, shame, identity. Whatever had once anchored them to conscience or self-restraint had been dissolved. They spoke little, but when they did, it was with unwavering clarity.
They called this state Release, not recovery, not awakening, but the final severance of self from self. In time, they abandoned even their names, adopting a new collective designation: "The Released".
No orders were needed afterward. No surveillance. These weren’t drones or victims.
They were reborn functionaries. Driven not by command, but by a restructured compulsion to serve.
They waited, in silence.
Not just to work... But to receive. To be opened again. To be used again.
The next Unveilment... always comes. And on each one, it strips another layer of false humanity, leaving something smoother. More compliant... More... perfect.