n,akldja ijcan't jadklfuckjgjjnal do jthislkj please jhlep it wnont let MEBREATHE
"The doctors from the lab called it the "global unconsciousness", physical proof of Carl Jung's postulations regarding the theory of dream analysis. In retrospect, we should have never been conned into this by taking the world "physical" at its face value from those lab-coat vipers - for this being remained as physical as a gust of wind, blustering and scattering us about in its mental dimension. But they implored us to go, extrapolating upon the fact that our division possessed the only capable folks besides the PTC who received rigid training in conscious insertion and mind melding techniques, and they ingratiated quite thoroughly to butter up our egos. It worked, in a sense. It worked so well that all of them went mad when It neatly twisted the fourth dimensional corners of their little laboratory inside-out, wrenching their bodies into horrible mockeries of their former selves, or fusing them inside walls and machinery or even each other. Those screams did not ring human, either - I suspect It took a particular joy in magnifying Its torturous activities, and possibly decreased the pain threshold throughout their nervous system to spice their cries for mercy, like a chef lovingly seasoning a lobster before it is boiled alive. I think at this point in time, I arrived at the conclusion that we would never, ever escape its grasp. The others sequestered themselves in delusions of happiness, or formulated daring plans of defiance to feed their blooming hero complexes, but those scientists never stepped into Its abode. They were never forced to return, each and every night, back to that chilling, soot-stained plain, with the flowers dropping lazily about around the obelisk which consisted of the horizon; and It mangled them in moments, for a fleeting annoyance. So what possible horrors would it save for us?"