Level 130 : "Tainted Pools"

Level 130 is a seemingly endless hospital adorned with corridors, waiting areas, and patient rooms. The level is notably branded "Wellborn Hospital", as indicated by the many signs, papers, and items bearing the same title. The temperature of the level is relatively chilly, around 20°C1, with it getting colder in operating rooms, 15°C2. Upon entering the hospital, each patient will be alone. As of now, no patient has reported seeing or interacting with another human in the Wellborn Hospital.

Wellborn Hospital is sterile, with little to no imperfections. The level is comprised primarily of modern late 20th-century to early 21st-century hospital design and architecture, but some patients have claimed that different architecture exists in certain sections. Medical equipment also follows suit, being modeled after the appropriate time period.

• Patient Rooms
• Remodeling
• Medical Records

These rooms make up the majority of the Wellborn Hospital. Upon entry to the level, patients will end up here, lying on a hospital bed. Any items or clothes they had will be replaced by a hospital gown and identification bracelets. Whatever items or clothing brought before being admitted will usually be found in a cubby or box in the same patient room. Most people also report having devices or IV lines attached to them upon waking up. The rest of the room follows the same reminiscent design as the rest of the hospital, containing various random medical accessories and machines.

As stated before, most of Wellborn Hospital is based on late 20th-century design, but it is not uncommon to find parts of the level under construction. These sections are categorized by their sleek modern design and are littered with tarps, ladders, unfinished walls, and exposed wires.

It is not advised to enter these areas due to the risk of being harmed by the environment. Patients who have wandered into these areas have also reported feelings of unease, feeling like they are not where they are supposed to be, and feeling like they are being watched.

The medical record section of Level 130 is the only place in the entire level, besides the "Wellborn Hospital" title, that contains legible writing. The writing everywhere else is usually encompassed by scribbles and lines that mean nothing, but are formatted and punctuated as complete sentences.

These rooms take on a warmer atmosphere with a mild room temperature. It's also been fully mapped out, being around 7,000 square feet. Every single occupant that has ever been admitted to the hospital is found in the thousands of books in the medical records room. The books themselves are categorized by the last name of patients, from A to Z.

The information inside includes treatment, patient bio, length of stay, and whether they died, are still admitted, or checked out.

While running into any humans here is impossible, there are still auditory distortions and unknown presences.

Every person who has checked out of the hospital has reported various sounds that come from distant locations around the Level. These sounds include distant talking, walking, unintelligible announcements from the PA system, and just general hospital buzz.

The Staff

The main correlation to the auditory presences is visual distortions found when photos are taken in the hospital.

Upon examining most photos of Level 130, one will find that there are dark silhouettes found just peeking from around different parts of the environment. These entities are referred to as The Staff due to their appearance. While they are silhouettes and don't have many details, their outlines are reminiscent of scrubs or doctors' coats.

On many occasions, The Staff have been seen3 interacting with their environment. Such occasions include chairs being pushed back, doors opening/closing, and interactions with medicine cabinets. Currently, there have been zero visual sightings of staff members outside of the use of cameras.

Little is known about the staff's behavior, but the auditory cues point towards them doing the jobs of a regular hospital crew. Within the "Medical Records" section of Wellborn, there is a section labeled "Staff Only". Only a handful of patients who have been discharged from the hospital have been in this section of the records room. This section looks like an empty library, and all except one patient have reported finding no documents regarding The Staff here. The outlier's testimony is found at the end of this page.

"Ghosts run this place. I can feel their eyes on me when I walk the halls and their diligent presence when I lie down."
-Final Testament of Misha Mullany

Admission

• Being severely wounded or ill.

Discharge

• Exiting Wellborn Hospital is done completely at random. One will stay in the hospital for a random amount of time, which could be a couple of hours or months. After the time has passed, one will either die or noclip back to the location where they were before being admitted, free of all ailments or injuries. They will also retain all of their belongings prior to entering the level. Witnesses have said that when people come back from Level 130, it's like no time has passed.

"It was a blur, limbo, a never-ending fever dream. The only thing I have to truly remember that place is my patched-up scars and a wristband with my name on it."
-Issac Shore

Notice: The following is the testament of Parker Hudson Thomas, found filed under the same name in Level 130. His discoveries regarding The Staff have been monumental in uncovering the inner workings and secrets of Wellborn Hospital.

P.H. THOMAS

13/05/2030

1

I awoke to smells. The smell of disinfectant, antiseptic, and a third smell that fell just flat of a definition. My eyes were heavy, like someone hung fishing weights by my eyebrows. The first thing I heard was the sound of a fluorescent light just above me. I could also hear the pinging of a machine in one of the rooms adjacent to me.

"What happened?" I thought. My memory was a blur, but I didn't think this was the level I was on last. Finally, the fishing weights gave way, and my eyes met the blinding white light above me. I was in some sort of hospital room, which is now where I call home.

The door to my room opened, prompting me to practically jump out of my skin. I sat there on edge for a few moments before the door shut. After some reflection, I spent a good amount of time looking through the cabinets in my room. This took every bit of the very little amount of energy that was left in my body. I eventually found a box that bore the name I've come to know better than any: "Wellborn Hospital". The name feels and still feels oddly familiar, like I've seen it somewhere before in another life. In the box were my clothes. I don't know why, but I didn't want to put them on; it felt wrong. Like I would be wearing a T-shirt to a wedding. The blue hospital gown, splotched with different colorful shapes, fit me better. I rummaged through the box, finding my wallet, camera, and a gold Liberty coin. My mind was then flushed with a memory.

The coin rolled between my fingers and back again. I was in my living room, sitting in an antique chair, staring past the cold coals in the fireplace in front of me. Various items were displayed on the walls and shelves in the room. They all carried sentiment and had little in common. A few stood out for their deeper value. The hound's tooth above the mantle from my first encounter with that fantastical beast. The hand-drawn map from the first level I had been tasked with exploring. Finally, my coin, which was the only item I had on my person when I broke my jaw on that soggy, carpeted floor. The house felt empty even though it was full of rare objects. I felt depressed and cold, and I was trying my hardest to hide my fear. The curtains were drawn; only slivers of overcast sunlight snuck into the vacant rooms. There was a knock on the door. The sun held a constant reflection off the metal as I stopped fidgeting.

I couldn't remember any more than that, but that first memory helped me figure out who I was. I was an explorer.

2

I was back in reality. In this place full of hoping and hopelessness. I could hear faint crying in the different rooms around mine; I doubted it was from the patients, and I never worked up the courage to enter any patient room but my own. I didn't feel happy or scared; I just felt empty. Like I was just going through the motions. Frequently, the PA will come on and spew sounds that I can't understand.

More time passed, and I don't know how much. It's hard to keep track in here; everything is sort of a blur. I have seen and heard many things in this hospital, almost like it's alive or something else is alive in it. Doors open and close at random; I hear walking and running in the halls, yet when I check, there is nothing making those sounds.

I almost forgot to mention that I "made" a friend. I have two IV lines hooked up to my right arm. They lead to a pole with wheels that hold the bags and a pump for the unknown semi-clear liquid that flows into my veins. He rolls next to me as I explore this place. I found a white hand towel, draped it over his head, and named him Rolland. My wondering got the best of me one day, and Rolland and I set out to explore.

After days - could have been weeks of wondering- I finally stumbled upon a medical records room. There must be thousands of years of medical records in that room; my curiosity was immediately hooked, and I set out to read. "H, I, J." I passed the key letters, wondering where to start. I stopped at "L"; something unseen or heard told me to look down that row of records. I walked the path until I got to "LU", when my eyes met this sign; one name popped into my mind, "Lutz". Yet again, I retrieved a memory from the shattered consciousness that was my mind.

Two more spouts of knocking occurred as I walked to the door. The rest of the house looked just as neglected as the living room. I passed my bathroom, which had freshly cleaned tools on the sink. I stopped at my front door, taking in a shaky breath before opening it. Tim Lutz appeared before me when I opened the door, my best friend and the person I trusted the most in my team. The rest of Team "Horizon" stood behind him. My eyes hit the floor as I studied the specks of dust floating around his boots. Tim put his arm on my shoulder and gave a small sigh. He pulled me into a hug before I conjoined with the rest of the group on the sidewalk outside.

The weather in Level 11 was gloomy. Dark clouds layered the sky as a thin layer of fog descended from the heavens, hugging the skyscrapers. Swindlebirds gave way to morning coos as we shuffled down the sidewalk. Everyone in the group looked below the horizon as they walked; the shared feeling of melancholy was in the air. To my left was the physics and geometry genius, Tim, hands in his pockets. I could tell he was contemplating something, as he always was. A foot or two in front of Tim was Paul Ignassio, our medical expert on the team. At this time, he would probably be cracking a joke, but given the circumstances, the thought wouldn't even cross his mind. Staggered a bit ahead of Paul and directly in front of me was Eli Hurd. My eyes drew circles around his "M.E.G. Cartographers Union" logo on the back of his parka. The subteam where he honed his skills before joining ours; he always found room to sneak them into general banter. Finally trailing behind me and Tim was Cain Rose; he bore the most disheartened look out of all of them. Cain's competitive nature and our friendly rivalry were put to bed for the moment.

The walk was silent until we got to a looming building, Base Beta. Paul broke the silence, "Let's head to the West Gate; it'll be faster." Base Beta, the largest base and the pride of M.E.G. Our team knew it better than most, so much so that our callsign for it was "home 2". After checking in, we made our way down to the bowels of the base. Most people in the base didn't talk to us, save for a few oblivious hellos or the occasional "I'm sorry". Hope entered my mind as we passed the "Laboratory and Research" sign. The science team member standing in front of a metal door recognized us and reached for the reflective handle.

3

I kicked myself for a while, trying my hardest to remember past that door. It's something familiar, intimate with my mind. The rest of my day consisted of making my way back to my room and rambling to Rolland. As I finished telling him about my favorite way to make fried eggs, I saw pen strokes start to appear on a clipboard next to me. The scribbles didn't mean anything; I assumed it was in a different language. When the shock had left my body, I remembered my camera, which I had left in my box of ornaments in my room. I ran back to my room, my companion squeaking right beside me.

I found my camera, ran back, and to my luck, the writing hadn't stopped yet. I took a photo, and my excitement skyrocketed. This photo confirmed what I had assumed for a long time: I wasn't alone here. There are unseen inhabitants, only illuminated by the camera film. I took photos and studied them until the memory ran out in my camera. I made it my new main goal to research these beings.

I searched and searched to no avail. This whole "makeshift research mission" made me feel like I had purpose, but that feeling slowly burned out as time passed. Not finding anything, I slumped back into depression, the same feeling from my memories. I made my way back to my room and lay down for a nap. The soft pings of a machine in another room pulled me into a dream world.

I could hear something pinging from inside the room. The door opened, and we followed the researcher into an observation room. There were three other people in the room, each occupied with different tasks. On one wall was another door; the window next to it showcased the room it led to. A researcher looking at vital signs on a monitor obscured my view of the window. The female researcher who led us into the room spoke up. "As you know, her vitals are slowly dropping every day; it is impressive they haven't crashed already. The good news is that we are taking the first steps in learning how to get that 'thing' off of her." She looked up from her notepad and at me, "I am afraid, Mr. Parker, that you still are not allowed in there with her." Eli addressed her statement, "You can't even let him in there with other people? Like security or one of you?" "No one is allo-", my ears tuned out the tired argument we've had many times as I walked up to the window. I peered in at an angel, my Elane, lying on a table with a large ornate theater mask plastered on her face.

I met Elane while mapping the primary settlements on Level 614 for M.E.G. She was one of the few loners who lived there, and as cliché as it is, it was love at first sight. A year later, we were married. Every year, we went back to Level 614 for our anniversary. Elane was a homebody, liked to stay in one place for a while, so she didn't like me exploring all the time. I swore to her that one day I would stop exploring for the M.E.G. and settle down permanently in Level 11. That choice was forced upon me two weeks ago.

I had gotten home after a month-long scouting expedition into a few uncharted levels. I couldn't wait to make up to her for all of the time we lost while I was gone. Opening the front door, I called her name to no response. I continued doing so as I shed my luggage and walked to our bedroom. I found her lying on a made bed with that mask on her face, unmoving. I ran to the bedside and frantically tried to wake her up, but nothing worked. Eventually, I called it in, and M.E.G. took full custody of her. The Masked Maidens don't care who they harm; if they are related to M.E.G. in any way, they will do so.

4

After waking up in my bed and in the wake of this memory, I cried. I cried for the first time in a long time. I pondered, "What if I don't get to see Elane again?" My tears fell due to the overwhelming emotions. After a while, I got out of bed and decided to take a walk. My walk lasted a while, and eventually I started to "help" the shadow figures.

I found a box full of some vials, and for some reason, I put them in the medicine cabinet next to it. It felt like I did it out of habit; it might be because it was purely in the wake of the memory trance I was in. Over my stay in Wellborn, I have continued the trend of doing unfinished tasks I find.

After wandering more, I ran into a section of the hospital I hadn't seen before. It was a corridor that was under construction. Paint blankets and a few ladders stopped me from walking into the remodeling. Right before I walked away, I caught a glimpse of a blue hammer lying on the ground.

My hammer protruded out of my tool bag as I dropped it on my guest bedroom floor. As it hit the wood, the masked man in front of me winced. I had tied his arms and legs to one of the dining room chairs, which was now placed at the foot of the bed. "I want you to tell me everything you know about that mask you put on my wife", I said, pacing around the room. He stayed silent, which triggered me to grab his shirt collar. "Listen here, you useless piece of shit, I don't have an ounce of patience or grace left in my body. If you don't tell me every detail about that mask, I am going to shatter yours." The masked man simply tilted his head to the left. I let go of his shirt, making the chair fall back to sitting on four legs. Walking over to my tool bag, I opened it, grabbing the wire cutters. "Last chance." The silent treatment continued. I grabbed his face with one hand and used the other to put the wire cutters to use on his nose. The screams carried throughout the house.

After MEG picked Elane up, I offered to help find who did it or figure out how to get the mask off of her. They shut my attempts down, claiming they would handle it. After days of visiting her, the team and I were always hit with the same news: "she was slowly dying". The only thing they knew about this mask was from a note left on her bedside.

Don't remove this one, you won't like what happens.
-MM

As the week passed, more M.E.G. or M.E.G.-adjacent members started flooding into the testing rooms with the same "new mask". This caused my Elane to be pushed further away from being a priority. I couldn't just sit around, so I did what I knew best: I searched. I assumed the person who did this had to have known us because Elane and I agreed that she should stay far from the public eye for her safety. Digging up old records of my neighbors in the archives of Base Beta, I found that the woman who lived across the street had a cousin who was suspected of being a Masked Maiden. M.E.G. looked into it once but found nothing. A couple of days of surveillance, a break-in, and a hammer, and he was spilling his guts.

After making a drawn-out use of the wire cutters, I went back to my toolbag and grabbed the hammer. After shattering his pinky finger, he finally screamed, "Stop!" He took a few shaky breaths. "Please stop. The mask can be removed." I dropped the hammer. "How?" The man explained, "After removing the mask, it'll explode if another person doesn't put it on. The mask will deactivate when the wearer dies; it feeds on life. If it doesn't get life, it will die and consume a Level in the process."

I zoned out of the memory, staring at my reflection in the glass. My love just beyond this thin barrier. Eli was still arguing with the researcher as I scanned the room. When there was an opening, I booked it to the door. The entire room reacted, but they were too late. I closed the door behind me, pinning a chair that was in the room between the handle and floor. Banging echoed in the room as familiar voices pleaded with me. I second-guessed for a second before carrying out my reckless plan. I lifted the mask off of Elane, kissed her gently on the cheek, and placed it on my face.

5

I was stunlocked. That was it, why I was here. Reckless sacrifice derived from my thoughtless emotions. As I made my way back wide-eyed with not a thought in my mind, I passed the medical record room. I turned into the entrance and walked through many aisles before stumbling upon one I had never seen before. The sign read " Staff only"; I ignored it, shuffling right in. The section was boring and bare, filled with empty bookcases and desks. I passed a black and white photo; funnily enough, it held the most color and interest in this segment. The photo showed a group of men sitting in front of what looked like a hospital; the caption under it read "Our Very Best". I crossed between and around many shelves until coming to a nook of some sort. One single document was lying face up on a small reading desk in a corner.

There is something more to this hospital and its staff. We go above and beyond with our selection process and grading of ability.

The staff employed at this hospital are hand-picked based on their compassion and skills. The patients who die here in our care aren't really lost. They are reincarnated as members of the staff. They will spend the rest of their days treating and maintaining upkeep of the Wellborn Hospital. Those who are treated will continue to live their lives in the backrooms until one day they are eventually readmitted. The new members of staff will be welcomed with open arms. They will be given new jobs that respect their skill set. From construction to nurses, there is always an open spot in our family. You might be asking yourself, what about those who don't pass away here? Well, believe it or not, they get sent back to their spot of injury, disorder, or illness.

If this is it and I'm not one of the few healthy enough to leave, am I ok with that? What has my life amounted to? What have I done? Sure, I have discovered and mapped out this complex of rooms, but did I do that for others? Deep down, I think I did it for myself. My curiosity, even back "home," was always rooted in the pride of discovering something new, something I would be recognized for finding. All of the cheers, the "awards", the endorsements, they are useless at the end of the day. Even with Elane, I put that mask on for myself for the selfish need for my wife. I was willing to sacrifice the lives of everyone in 11 for the chance that she would be alright. So I could get to see her again. The universe warned me by pushing me out of reality for being at the forefront of Earth exploration. I did not heed that warning, and look where I am now. My selflessness has driven me a layer too deep.

I want to stop putting myself first; I want to live a selfless lifestyle. Whether it's back home with my wife and friends or here, I want to make a change.

I looked over many of the patient's medical records back in that room, and almost all of them had final testaments in their files. So I'm writing this testament, my final testament. I hope this testimony helps others understand this place. If you are reading this, it's because I wasn't able to tell you myself. To whoever finds this, document it. To my friends, know that I'm living a better life, one in the service of others. To my love, I wish I were with you, and I will always continue to wish. Just know that if you are ever hurt, hopefully I will be the one to nurse you back to health.

-Parker Hudson Thomas , former explorer