Entity 74 : "Argos" (This article is under rewrite)

A quick glance over your shoulder. The familiar sensation of needles crawling down your back. Strangers that seem to do nothing but endlessly stare.

The fear of being watched is no stranger to the various denizens of the Backrooms. The long, open hallways without any living creature in sight can attest to that. Even the most distinguished wanderers will still fall prey to a bout of paranoia once in a while—it's only natural.

Looming as an ever-present force of nature, Entity 74 delivers much more than a simple panic attack. Despite its notoriety, the amount of reliable information out there about Entity 74 is equivalent to the number of people who have survived a verified encounter—none. People need to be informed with utmost urgency about the larger things at play—the figures behind the curtain.

Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. You've felt the presence just as much as any of us—the constant weight on your soul. Just because anyone has yet to find it doesn't mean it isn't there. The Knight. The Blue Angel. The Dark One. All forces of nature once thought to be undefinable myths, now proven otherwise. What makes you think it stops at three?

Argos does not rest. It is but an agent of the natural order, and justice is its righteous hand.

• The inhabitants of Level 11
• The Iron Fist

"Argos isn't just a myth, man. I swear. I walk past that compound every day, and it feels like I'm about to vomit…"
— Andrew Locke

"You don't have to go very far in the world of organized crime here until you start hearing rumors about 'the man in the cloak.' I used to think it was all talk, until I saw it dragging someone into that dreaded compound. Argos, whatever you call him—he's real. You can feel it in the air around here."
— Carol Lilac

"People keep calling me crazy, but I swear, Argos saved me from Level 94! At least, I think he did… it was hard to see him through the blurriness. I didn't mind though! I know he's real, and he's our guardian angel!"
— Valeria Martinez

This information, along with several other files, was shared with us voluntarily by The Iron Fist. They seemed very eager for the public to know about it, perhaps too eager. So take it with a grain of salt.

Report: Jupiter Analysis on the Eyes of Argos
Date: 6/9/2022
Summary:

It is with great skepticism that we approach the notion that the Blind Judge actually exists. Throughout the entire recorded history of the Eyes of Argos, there has not been one confirmed sighting of any being matching the common description of "Argos." We at Jupiter believe "Argos" to be a mere construct—a false God of their own making.

"Argos" is nothing more than a boogeyman to dissuade us from pursuing our mission. Nothing more than a feeble attempt to stop us from doing what is necessary to usher in a world of peace and equity for all.

We advise the members of Saturn to focus on more relevant concerns—such as the exponential increase in Sin Hunter activity near our newest colonies.

"Argos" is no more than a bedtime story—the cultish fanaticism of its followers is what is to be feared.

⚠️ Notice on Data Censorship and Page Alteration ⚠️

The Iron Fist did warn me that this data might "disappear." According to them, "fanatics" constantly patrol the web, systematically erasing any unguarded material about Argos they deem "too explicit" or "heretical." Even the G.P.D. is not exempt from these altercations. For example, we had recently obtained what seemed to be the first clear image of the entity to date. It must have been the real deal, because a few days later, the photo vanished from all of our servers, and all contact with the photographer was lost. With how frequently these attacks happen, anyone publishing material related to Argos or the Eyes should expect their backend data to be tampered with at some point. Even this page is no exception.

You might think that with all the notoriety around it that we'd be able to pinpoint a behavior pattern, but that's just the problem—despite the innumerable amount of stories, there are never enough details to help us track what it actually does. The minor inconsistencies alone are enough to drive any investigator mad, and every new account just adds more to the pile. All we know is the same old story, the one told time and time again. Some evil son of a bitch finds their way into the Backrooms, viewing the place as the perfect spot to get away with anything they desire. They think themself slick—a real high-profile criminal. A Backrooms Jack the Ripper.

And then they start to feel like they're being watched.

But it doesn't sway 'em—it's just the paranoia of the Backrooms. They've just been alone for too long. They continue their work, each kill weighing on them more and more—and a breaking point is reached. There's a knock at the door. They thinks they've found another poor soul to send to an early grave.

But when the door opens, it isn't the face of a victim that greets them. All they can see is the culmination of all the pain they've caused. They drop to their knees and are never seen again.

Every wanderer has heard some variation of the story, but the message is still the same. Additionally, despite the lack of evidence, no one seems to doubt their validity. With everyone and their mother having an Argos story these days, you couldn't be blamed for writing it all off as B.S.

If it weren't for the Eyes, you'd might have had a point.

• The B.N.T.G.
• The Daily Rooms

Take this story for example. A notice from the latest batch of declassified B.N.T.G. files.

Do not share or reproduce this document without the express permission of the Backrooms Nonaligned Trade Group

Dear employees,

It is with deep regret that we confirm the circulating rumors: our esteemed Chief Financial Officer has passed away under extraordinary circumstances. While we mourn this loss, we take solace in knowing that their dedication to the company will continue to inspire us as we move forward.

This is but one more incident in a concerning trend of targeted disruptions in our operations. While the wave of violence appears to have subsided for now, all personnel are advised to remain vigilant. Additionally, we ask that any sightings of a 2-meter tall stone statue resembling the mythological character "Lady Justice" be reported swiftly to the Board of Directors.

With the intention of leaving behind our recent misfortunes, we are also pleased to announce the immediate appointment of our new CFO. You will be hearing from him shortly, as we intend to make sweeping changes to our business sector.

Lastly, we wanted to share that we have established contact with the G.O.I. "The Eyes of Argos," who have claimed responsibility for the attacks on our personnel. They have provided documentation containing various allegations against those targeted, and while we cannot verify their veracity at the moment, we are committed to reviewing their materials and exploring a path towards normalization.

Thank you for your time, your work, and your continued loyalty.

Sincerely,
The Board of Directors

Or take this one—a newspaper clipping from a popular cross-level media publication.

Backrooms Robotics in Chaos as Eleven Members of Board of Directors Found Dead Overnight!!!

Last night in Level 11, the majority of the upper brass within Backrooms Robotics were found dead in their homes. Reports from local policing groups and investigative journalists have identified similar markings on the bodies of the victims, indicating a struggle. While investigators are currently searching for a possible political motivation, locals have a different perspective: Could this be the work of the enigmatic judge of the E.O.A.?

Just a Conspiracy, or Something More?

The Daily Rooms finds little evidence to support this theory. To date, no single concise report has been assembled on this mysterious magistrate. Without a proper M.O. to compare to, it is unlikely that a straight answer will ever be reached regarding most suspected Argos attacks. However, this does not exclude the possibility entirely. According to an anonymous leaker within the B.N.T.G., their Chief Financial Officer was recently assassinated by a mysterious assailant. Could the two crimes perhaps be connected? It's possible, but only time will tell. We have reached out to the public relations team at the Eyes of Argos compound, but they have declined to leave a comment with us at this time.

We're beyond out of our depth. Seriously, every person we've interviewed on the subject gives a different answer regarding the appearance of this… thing. A reaper clad in black, a statue of an angel with a sword of stone, a faceless police detective encircled by thousands of eyes, a mercenary wrapped in chains… We can't even identify this thing's FORM consistently, and we're expected to give a biology report? Half the time we don't even know if someone is reporting a new entity or just imagining things, and THEN we have to factor in Argos to that equation? Identifying it is bloody impossible.

What makes it even more difficult is contradictory credibility. There have been a handful of stories where Argos ends up disintegrating into the air at the hand of some entity—only to reappear a week later in the next alleged encounter. There are reports of it phasing through solid matter to pursue its opponents. Not noclipping, phasing. Whatever the case may be, this thing does NOT follow our current understanding of biological life.

Our guess is as good as yours as to what's going on there.

No one really knows how long Argos has been around. Hell, even its own organization doesn't know. The Eyes have records of operations going all the way back to the Lost era, so that's at least a start. One thing is certain—Argos is old. Really fucking old. It's more of an ever-present rule than it is an individual.

We did not always bear sacred hospitality.

Even I struggle to remember the times before. With each passing day, my memories begin to fade away one by one in favor of change. To maintain memories is to hold on to the past—the antithesis of our purpose.

But even through its haziness, there is one memory I cannot forget. One memory I must not forget.

It is the price I will forever pay for my transgressions.

The time before the eternal hunt was a time of fantasy. Such ideas as rule and order were foreign to us. We were tricksters. We were deceivers. As your kind grew comfortable in their new skin, we sought to break through the mold that covered your species. Like those before, we would test you. Help you grow. Help you evolve.

At least, that was our plan.

We Primordials are old. We remember watching your world spring forth in a bountiful blue-green paradise. We remember watching the first beasts of the land begin to walk.

We have always revered creation. It provides something we cannot. We are but mere glass fragments of the long-shattered mirror that makes up what you came to call "reality." We can only observe. Only mimic. Creation is our beginning. Our salvation. Our destiny. For as central as it is to our being, we had never considered the idea that there could be anything beyond it.

How naive we were.

There are things in this world that are sacred. This we have always known.

But we had never truly learned why.

And IT took notice.

IT came in a burst of divine light. Our world turned upside down as we saw a demon of your own making take form. Just like us, another piece of the mirror had begun reflecting your image.

But there was something… different about this one.

IT was not just the mirror, but the light itself.

With no more than a turn of its head, my kin began to fall. Their actions were deemed uncouth. Disorderly.

I could not allow the suffering to continue.

I began a parley with this new inhabitant. Underneath ITS cloak, there still must have been a being with a soul. A being with reason—and an understanding of compromise. I had always believed one's spiritual essence to be an accurate reflection of their truth.

I was wrong.

IT forced me into a pact. My kin would take our leave from your paradise—and live in exile. Free from the gaze of the all-seeing. Free to live as our true selves. A generous offer.

This would come at a cost. Our wild nature would become… subdued. Contained. We would not become free, but merely enter a lavish cage. For our agreement to be honored, we must adhere to these "new" ways, lest our pact be forfeit.

I was foolish. I had thought myself clever. "Of course!" I thought. "Once left alone, we could return to our ways in peace!"

I accepted the terms. True to its word, the light left us alone.

But for there to be light, there must also be darkness.

I awoke one morning in our new home to discover a thickening blackness covering the land—the bodies of my kin collapsed one by one as their forms were consumed. My comrades were forced to cut down their friends. Their family. Death was preferable to the alternative.

Soon, only four of us remained.

It took its leave, its warning bestowed.

I had not made a pact with man that day. I had made one with the world.

The judge in white.

The executioner in black.

All part of the same machine. A machine you would be wise to respect.