Previously on the Archives. It appears that she hasn't gone too far from the
city. She's only a couple hours away in Wisconsin. I am currently tracing
the GPS on her smartphone. And who are Hastings in September? They're my
friends? No, Emily, They're not. They are the real monsters.
This is why I'm telling you that we must eliminate them. We can vet
Marcus first, but we need to be prepared for the fact that he is
likely another anomaly. Emily will not be okay with us murdering Marcus her harp.
Do you trust her? Oh no, Marcus, I do not,
Hastings. What does your gut tell you, not just your head, but
your actual instincts? Okay, September, Let's do it your way. Let's
rescue Emily and Marcus. Contract a hop Please do not contact the main office
or initiate a TCO cleaning supplies facility tour until negotiations are complete. Well,
Hastings in September looks site. It's nice then of the rest of year.
Ipet Archives has adult language and violence, and is not suitable for children.
Listener discretion is advised. Ispet Archives is a creative Typo Entertainment Production. If
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Thank you for listening. Chapter nine The Fat Observation four from the East Fet
Archives. The tab refers to the moment an anomaly first gains access to the
fat. Although anomalies are not classified as human, a chronicler is not to
take the life of a targeted anomaly until the powers begin to manifest. Any
guide that Brace's protocol should also be reported back to the Kasadoskia. Hastings stopped
the black sports utility vehicle in front of a modern looking cabin. He could
have parked the vehicle a short span away, allowing him to approach under cover
of darkness. He in September could have quietly infiltrated the cabin in an attempt
to save Emily and Marcus. This would have been the most logical, and
not to mention his preferred method of handling such situations, but September had convinced
him to attempt negotiations with the harp first in chronicler annals the records collected by
his people that contained the history of the Earth to the extent of chronicle or
knowledge, Hastings had never found a single example of a successful negotiation between the
Contrat organization and any of the Hidden. As far as he could tell,
the Contra trained all of their operatives to hate anything that they classified as in
human. Humanity's ability to discriminate against anything that they believed might threaten their place
of power in the world was as predictable as it was priggish. Humanity in
general had no idea how much effort was spent by the Hidden in order to
keep their society from perpetual disaster. The few humans that appeared to have any
insight into the matter spent much of their time haunting the exact same Hidden that
protected them, deeming them aberrations that posed a critical threat to the human race.
Hastings glanced over to September. September always knew exactly what humans were feeling,
and he could always determine the right words to say to Hastings. However,
humans made very little sense. They simply kept doing the same things over
and over, year after year. Generation by generation with little to no regard
for the people, wildlife, or nature around them. It was exhausting to
watch. Maybe this is why Hastings had worked so hard with September to devise
a plan to help the Anomalies. He considered the possibility that his feelings of
resentment may have stemmed from centuries of protecting a human race that would most certainly
kill Hastings long before thanking him for services rendered. It may have been the
fact that while humans advance in knowledge and technology, their hunger for control,
power, and violence did not subside. It may have simply been that there
was not enough information about anomalies in the chronicle or annals. Whatever the reason,
Hastings had decided to divert his efforts away from the human race and to
the anomalies, a race that might actually deserve to be saved. To his
knowledge, he was the only chronicler in all history that had chosen this path.
September had his own reasons for wanting to save Emily. The Guide had
tried to explain those reasons to Hastings on several different occasions, but they were
driven by moral ambitions, something Hastings rarely gave much thought. In his opinion,
it didn't matter what ideals drove September. He trusted his friend and would
follow his advice. That was enough. So they sat in the driveway of
a cabin owned by an organization full of people that had kidnapped their friend and
wanted to murder him. The goal was to speak to a trained assassin in
an attempt to save two anomalies, which they should, by all rights,
have killed months ago. September gave Hastings a weak smile and then opened a
card work This was not going to end well, Emily, are you in
there? Emily watched in disbelief as Hart pulled the trigger and a bullet struck
September in the chest. Her friend fell back against the side of the sub
and a second shot went off. September fell to the ground. September,
don't shoot, don't shoot. Who are you shooting? You're here to fight
the ones that want to hurt you. You killed him, No. I
hit him in the chest once and the shoulder once. It takes a lot
more secular in human, he said. They didn't want to fight. They
lie. No, No, Hastings can't lie. You're full of shit.
Just stay where you are and be quiet. This is the only way I
can protect you. Emily, Are you okay? Can you hear me?
Stop? He said, shut up and stay still. With practiced efficiency,
Harp detached the rifle from the stand and repositioned herself away from the window.
Emily noted that Harp had moved the television set earlier for this exact reason.
She had anticipated this altercation and had moved the television to a place where she
could take cover while having a direct line of sight on the cabin door.
This would certainly be a point blank shot, showed. Hastings decide to enter
through that doorway. Then the blue lines came, two of them, faintly
at first, began to connect her to Harp and Marcus. The blue lines
pulled energy toward her more slowly. This time, she felt the push and
pull of the lines as the energy trickled from Harp and Marcus and into her
chest. From her last dream, she now understood the method in which she
could push the blue out into others. Knowing this, she was able to
control the speed with which the blue could flow. She also felt the reservoir
in her chest and quickly looked down to find the flow of blue energy was
draining from her chest and pooling on the floor below her feet. With a
small effort, her reservoir and began containing the blue energy called Eastpit. Holding
even just a small amount of Eastpit. The sensation's Emily experience were at first
overwhelming and intoxicating. Though she knew the danger of her current predicament, Emily
couldn't help but feel overcome with instant bliss. Warmth radiated from her chest.
Her senses enhanced, enabling her to better hear, see, and smell the
environment around her. She had complete control of her ispit and could sense the
flow of energy as if a string was pulling and pushing at her chest.
She felt full of what she could only describe as life itself. With a
sense of calm knowing, Emily began to burn the Eastpit that she had stored
in her reservoir. This was not something she had learned from her dreams,
but in her awakened state, she felt that it was the right thing to
do. Two more lines lit up immediately. An orange line and a green
line simultaneously appeared and shot through the front wall of the cabin. These lines,
she assumed connected to hastings and September. With an effort, Emily attempted
to push and pull at these new lines, but they did not react the
same way the blue lines had. Then the world lit up around her.
A dim and beautiful pink aura allowed her to see all the plant life around
the cabin. Sharp points of red identified the animal, wildlife that hastily retreated
further into the wood line, apparently spooked by the gunfire. The gunfire the
memory pulled Emily back to her senses. She shook from her reverie and brought
her mind back to the situation at hand. She stopped pulling the blue from
Marcus, and in turn pushed some of the energy back toward the Harbinger.
This made sense now, Marcus would need that energy, Emily. Do you
see that the lines? Yeah? I can see them. No, no
lines. The room is warping though everything is twisted. There are eyes watching
and flowers dying. The walls are angry, and the moon is looking away.
Marcus. I I don't know what that means. Are you okay?
It's happening again, like the bank, but different. I can see you
twisting it. You're twisting the starlight. Am I hurting you? No?
You're not hurting me. You don't have to stop. Can you see the
lines? No, but I know you're doing something. I can feel you
expanding. Shut up the both of you, Marcus. We need to focus.
We can't let Harp kill Hastings. I'm not certain what Hastings since up
are trying to accomplish. But if Hastings says that they're not here to fight,
he's telling the truth. I know it might sound strange, but he
can't lie. It's not possible. What do you want me to do?
I don't know, but we need to stop Harp. Okay, Outside,
Hastings dragged September behind the car to give his friends shelter from any additional gunfire.
Although his wounds were bad and would have been fatal for any human,
September would survive given the right amount of time to heal. The healing properties
of a guide were incredibly powerful, but slow in nature. September would not
be helpful in any combat situations to come. Hastings measured the risk of leaving
September alone outside. It would only take one headshot from Harp's sniper rifle to
snuff out September his life force. Hastings surveyed the area. There were no
places that appeared to be a safer location to hide his friend, but also
there wasn't an easy wage for harp to approach September without fully coming into view.
With his friend positioned in what he calculated to be the safest place possible,
Hastings drew the firearm from September's holster and placed it in his friend's left
hand. The left arm maintained the functional shoulder, giving September the ability to
fire the weapon should he need. Typically, September could fire the gun with
the same level of accuracy from either hand, but the pain from the two
bullet wounds would still be a distraction. Though not ideal, this placement would
be the most survivable by hastings estimations the chronicler position in September and what he
thought would be the best vantage point should the assassin come out to finish the
job. Hastings would have appreciated for September to give him a quick plan to
execute, but the wounds that his friend had sustained were too serious for the
guide to speak. September's breathing was raspy and his eyes were closed more often
than not, knowing he would have to do this alone, Hastings gave September's
good arm a tight squeeze. September, I know this would be an inappropriate
time to tell you that my initial assessment was correct and the exchange was going
to end with one of us being shot, So I'll save my speech for
a more appropriate setting. I have determined a strategy for saving our friend,
but it's going to involve me abandoning you here while I deal with Harp.
If I make enough noise, I will most assuredly keep Harp from coming out
here and shooting you in the face, which I'm sure she intends to do
given the chance. My plan is to take this tree branch man will row
it through the picture window. This will cause a distraction where I will then
burst through the cabin door with the element of surprise and shoot Harp. Now
I know what you're most likely thinking. This is a terrible plan, and
normally I would agree with you, But if there are two stressed anomalies in
that cabin, then any plan I make is most likely to be ruined anyway.
At least this way, there's a chance that I can save you,
and maybe the anomalies and hopefully me. All right, that's all you're getting
out of me at this point. Wish me good fortune in the events of
his fit. Oh almost forgot September. Your plan was awful and I definitely
told you so. Inside. Emily watched as the green line intersected and then
pulled the orange line further away from the cabin. The green line was decidedly
Hastings and the orange September. While she was worried for her friends, she
felt a small sense of relief Hastings would not be dragging September to safety.
If September had been killed. He was alive for now at least. The
room then erupted in chaos. Marcus rushed from her side and dove to tackle
Harp. Harp was almost six feet tall and physically fit, while Marcus was
at most five foot six inches with a smaller frame. The assassin had both
the weight and size advantage, but Harp's crouched position, coupled with Marcus's element
of surprise, allowed the smaller man to tackle the assassin into the wall and
then knock her down. Harp let out a grunt as her head smashed into
the wall. Emily wasted no time and rushed toward Harp's rifle. As she
charged forward, Harp used her elbow to strike Marcus's nose. The blow sent
Marcus backwards in a daze, as blood immediately began to pour from his face.
This gave Harp just enough freedom to push herself towards the rifle and grab
its stock as Emily placed her own hands around the center of the weapon.
If they had both been standing, Emily is certain that she would have lost
this contest, but to her advantage, Harp still lay on the floor with
arms outstretched at an odd angle. Emily's initial goal was to grab the rifle
and turn it on the assassin, but the woman's grip on the gun was
strong and it took a large effort simply to rip the gun away. While
she was successful, her attempt inadvertently flung the rifle across the room. Emily
watched as the weapon bounced once and then slid under the couch where she had
slept earlier this evening. Wisps of blue issfit lines pushed and guided the weapon
out of reach, much to Emily's frustration. With the lower half of his
face now covered in blood, Marcus studied himself against the wall and stood up.
He was still dizzy and twisting his neck in any direction created an intense
pain in the back of his head, but he had to help Emily.
His clear just in time to see Harp grab Emily's left ankle and roll across
the floor, twisting away from Marcus. The action reminded Marcus of a crocodile
spinning after it captured its prey. In one swift move, the assassin had
rolled Emily to the ground with a twisted leg and brought herself back up to
her knees. Panicked, Marcus grabbed for the tube television with the intention of
yanking it down on Harp. The old television was heavy and took slightly more
effort to move than he had originally anticipated. This gave Harp the fraction of
time she needed to die from her crouch's position into another roll. This time,
when she regained her footing, she held a small glock that was previously
holstered to her leg. Marcus hadn't even seen her draw the weapon. One
second, the assassin was rolling away, and the next moment her weapon was
trained on him. He didn't even have time to be afraid before Harp pulled
the trigger. Emily was in the process of rolling from her back to her
front when the gun was fired. The bullet struck Marcus in the chest,
and the man dropped. Instinctually, Emily's hand moved to cover her ears.
The blast from the gun was deafening, and her ears began to bring almost
immediately with an effort, Emily chanced a glance at Harp and found that she
had shifted her aim from Marcus to Emily. In torpified terror, Emily squeezed
her eyes closed. A large crash came from the picture window and glass sprayed
everywhere. Emily drew her knees to her chest in an unintentional attempt to make
herself small. Shattered glass lay on and around her body. After what she
assumed was too much time, Emily realized that she had not been shot.
She released the breath that she had been holding and reopened her eyes to find
Harp with her weapon, tracing back and forth from the picture window to the
front door. Hastings was coming to help. Emily drew herself and positioned herself
in a way that allowed her to see the door, Harp, and Marcus
all the same time. Marcus's blue line was growing dim. In all the
chaos, Emily had paid little attention to the lines, but now their significance
rushed back to her. The green line that belonged to Hastings settled at the
front door. The two blue lines that ran to Harp and Marcus were quite
noticeably different. Now, Harp's line pulsed with energy, while Marcus's continued to
dim. The pool of energy and Emily's epeit reservoir remained intact even without her
focusing on it. Emily watched the door handle twist slowly. Harp must have
seen it as well, because she stopped tracing back and forth and settle her
aim on the door. Marcus's line flickered with a surge of energy. Emily
pulled at Harp's blue line with all her willpower and redirected that energy to Marcus.
The cabin door began to open. Emily then forced some of her back
toward Harp. She twisted it at the last moment, causing the eastpit to
pour into Harp's handgun. She could feel the chambered ground begin to swell and
warp. The barrel began to constrict. Emily pulled harder and harder at Harp's
lines. The action took all of her strength, but drained Harp's eastpit.
She stole it all. She could feel the inside of the gun's chamber and
sensed as the bullet casing degraded. The door opened and Harp fired. Harp's
weapon exploded in her hand. The gun's slide split into several pieces, sending
shrapnel from the weapon in multiple directions. The largest chunk of the slide struck
Harp in the throat. The assassin brought her ruined hand to her neck as
she unsuccessfully gasped for breath. Emily watched in horror as Harp fell first to
her knees and then to the floor. The last bit of blue, a
spit, flickered from the woman, and the line retreated into Emily's reservoir.
With a last push of effort, Emily sent the blue from her chest and
into Marcus, who still lay unconscious on the floor. She attempted to replicate
the way she healed the man in her dream. Emily watched as Hastings cautiously
entered through the door before the chronicler could reach her. Emily's vision went black
and she fell unconscious, Emily, can you hear me? Emily? Are
you certain she's not hurt? She might be hurt, but nothing too serious.
I cannot tell without a more thorough assessment. I'm fine. Ah,
you are awake. Good? You can help me carry bodies? I don't
think I can. My leg hurts pretty bad. I'll try, though.
Wait did you say bodies? Is Marcus? No? No, he is
not dead. He's just unconscious. I can't seem to get him to wake
up. Emily, are you okay? Besides the leg, I think so.
My head is killing me and my ears are ringing, but I think
I'm okay. We cannot stay here long. We have some time before the
Contra will send a team to investigate, but we should not linger if we
can avoid it. What happened? I was sort of hoping you could tell
us. I opened the door, and then Harp's weapon exploded. The shrapnel
killed her, and then you passed out. I checked you four notable injuries,
but when I found none, I left you to check on Marcus and
track September inside. Harp is dead. I placed her body behind the sofa.
How was Marcus? He appears to have been healed. I can see
where wounds were inflicted, but upon reviewing his body, there is only a
scar there. Now you appear to have more bruising than need us. No,
I saw him get shot. How is that possible? We're not certain.
Maybe as an anomaly, he has the ability to heal as well,
and maybe his fits simply healed him on its own. There are several theories
that could explain it. No, I don't think so. He isn't an
anomaly. He's a harbinger. I'm the only anomaly here, and I think
I healed him. Emily, there are no recorded cases of an anomaly healing
someone. I think we should document a full recounting of your experience and attempt
to determine what could have caused the healing. I am in no way saying
that you are lying, but you have been through quite a bit of trauma
and I could be naturally mistaken. In addition to that, I do not
believe you have the capacity to heal at will. There are accounts in the
chronicler Annals that allude to the fact that misfit can heal and is not always
completely destructive. I am more inclined to believe such an event occurred Hastings,
I think it's time for us to take a step back and reassess our knowledge
about the chronicler annals. Maybe they aren't as complete as you would like.
Guys, I know what I saw. I pushed Harp's blue line into Marcus
after he was shot. I didn't see him get healed, but I know
I caused that, just like I know I caused that weapon to explode.
Emily, are you saying that you had a direct influence on the behavior of
that weapon. Yeah, I think so. You intentionally caused that explosion.
Definitely, Hastings, what do you make of that? I believe this would
be the first documented example of an anomaly directly impacting and inanimate objects such as
a gun, as well as healing another life form, in this case,
Marcus. I will note that I do believe that she had a direct impact
on the weapon. Oh, you're certain, m The statistical probability of a
gun misfiring is incredibly low. Furthermore, the probability of a gun that belongs
to someone like her, a well trained assassin, is even lower. We
would have kept this weapon well maintained, the ammunition would have been the correct
type for the weapon, and would have been checked before it was loaded into
the clip. On top of that, a misfire that resulted in a structural
rupture would be nearly impossible without an outside Barrian. I am leaning towards the
conclusion that Emily is correct. She did have direct control over the outcome of
these events. I'm trying really hard not to be offended that you both felt
the need to talk through the entire scenario simply to determine what I just said
happened. I'm sorry, Emily, It's not that we don't trust you.
It's just that we've been doing this for over four hundred years and this is
the first time we've heard anything like this. I too apologize, Emily.
It's fine to be fair. I haven't really trusted you to a whole lot
over the last couple days. Oh good, it is resolved then, Okay,
guys, seriously, though, I would like to go home now,
I agree. Help me carry Marcus if you can. Emily Swanson is voiced
by Tisha Zang. Marcus Baker is voiced by Nico Rodriguez. Hastings is voiced
by Adam Culbertson. September is voiced by Richard Collins. Harp is voiced by
Stitch Mayo, Chronicler rules read by Shamus Rodriguez and narrated by Michael Cole.
You Spit Archives was written by Nico Rodriguez in collaboration with Tisha Zang. You
Spitt Archives is a Creative Type of Entertainment production. Find out more about our
show at www dot Creative typo dot com. Hey, I'm Tony Kenney.
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