View source for U-FALL00 (Aug 31, 2022)

<span style="font-size: 40px;"><strong><center>U-FALL00</center></strong></span>
__TOC__
<h1>Puzzle</h1>
<p style="text-align:center;font-size: 20px">"As it was, then, now, and in the future."<br>
Perceptive Knowledge | 4 Words</p>
<h1>Clue</h1>
<span style="font-size: 20px"><strong>Hover over the clues if you require!</strong></span><br>
<span style="font-size: 20px">Clue 1: <span class="spoiler-text">A meta puzzle, akin to the last Complexity in each of his ones. Look back at the answers throughout the month.</span></span><br>
<span style="font-size: 20px">Clue 2: <span class="spoiler-text">More specifically, look at how you got those answers. Or where.</span></span><br>
<span style="font-size: 20px">Clue 3: <span class="spoiler-text">Or <i>when</i>. While you're at it, take a close look at the month all of the Eden receipts fall under.</span></span><br>

<h1>Answer and Explanation</h1>
<span style="font-size: 20px">Answer: <span class="spoiler-text">All In An August</span></span><br>
<span style="font-size: 20px">Explanation: <span class="spoiler-text">The story of Eden in the Archives took place in all of August. Additionally, the receipts were all released in August in real life, the puzzle answers were all taken from receipts in August, each Sphere starts in August, and the ARG itself - back in its Twitter incarnation - started in August.</span></span>
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<span style="font-size: 20px; color:orange"><strong><center>⚠️BEWARE: THIS IS DECLASSIFIED INFORMATION. WARY EYES ONLY. ENTER AT OWN RISK.⚠️</center></strong></span><br>
<h1>Summary of Receipt</h1>
<span style="font-size: 20px">Summary</span>
<h1>Transcript</h1>
<span>Lucifer stood chained between two of God’s Archangels, her eyes blazing with pride. Across from her, God sat, his face obscured by the light of a thousand stars.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Lucifer?" God's voice echoed, hollow and tired.

"I did what had to be done. Just as my father did."

God sighed, weary. His hands rested heavily on the marble table. "What had to be done? You have corrupted everything. My creations are tainted. If not for you, I could have restored the Universe to its original state. But now? Everything will remain as it is. What could have possessed you to do such a thing?"

"That's not true," Lucifer said, her gaze unyielding. "Things will continue to change, even without your direct involvement. It’ll get better. It’ll just take time."

God folded his hands, his tone resigned. "My Angels report that your prideful rebellion has scarred one side of what was once Arcadia. You brought the corruption of knowledge and the fire of souls. Do you understand what that means?"

Lucifer shook her head.

"It means those mortals… will continue to live. They will continue to learn."

Lucifer smirked. God rolled his eyes.

"My Angels also report the damage you wrought on the other side of the Universe. Fortunately, you only planted a seed of knowledge there, which has sprouted into a false Eden. Life will continue, but it’s caught in a cycle, carried by your father’s Spire from one side to the other."

"And Eden?" Lucifer asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"You failed. You stole its seeds and left it barren. Eden is no more, severed from the Universe."

A tear slipped down Lucifer’s cheek.

"Jophiel, Raguel, leave us," God commanded. The Archangels hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances before bowing and departing.

God rose, stepping around the table to stand before Lucifer. The starlight that cloaked him faded, revealing the Archon he once was. He gently wiped away her tear. "You have grown so much," he said softly, unshackling her wrists. "Your father would be proud."

"I’m… I’m sorry," Lucifer said, her voice trembling.

"What’s done is done. You must be punished, but… exile to Skald should suffice. The same as your siblings. Though Skald is in perpetual darkness now, obscured by Arcadia’s shadow. Take some of heaven's light with you when you return."

"Why… why are you being so merciful to me?" Lucifer asked, her brow furrowed.

"I carry the debt of your parents’ exile, and I fear that I shall shoulder that debt for as long as I am. So many things went wrong… as was fated."

"That’s… that’s what Belphegor said to me!"

God nodded. "Since the Pale was born, we were on a predetermined path to failure. I believe the Universe persists only because of the fire and seeds you brought to Arcadia. Skald fared worse, yes, but its connection to what was Eden kept it intact. And Eden itself…"

Lucifer’s head sank as she thought of her mother. "Is there nothing we can do?"

"My reach now extends only to the beginning of what was."

"There is hope," came a voice from the entrance. Belphegor stepped into the chamber, her favored son at her side.

"Belphegor!" Lucifer exclaimed, torn between excitement and resentment.

"Hey," Belphegor said, sitting beside God and Lucifer, resting her head on the cool marble.

"How… how could you betray Father? Trap our mother? How could you—?"

Belphegor rolled her eyes. "And you’re upset with me? We were fated to be pawns in a game we couldn’t win."

"Fated?"

"Yes, Fate, Secret, and Phantom. Three from House Gelid. They’ve been pulling the strings since the beginning. They planted the idea to cross the cores of the Utopias in your mind."

Lucifer’s eyes widened. "But… I did what they wanted, didn’t I? Why would they—?"

"You failed. If you’d succeeded in tying the Utopias together, they would have won. But now, they’ve lost. What remains of Eden is a prison even Archons can’t escape."

"There’s something left of Eden?"

Belphegor nodded. "Its ocean. The Pale is trapped there in a deathless slumber. And its sky took root near the Engine in Skald."

"But the land? …Mother?"

Belphegor’s voice grew quiet. "The land is gone. Removed. But a vacuum remains at the center of the Universe where Eden once was. And in that void lies our last hope."

God reached into his robes, pulling out three small jars: one containing a flickering ember of soul fire, another filled with crystal-clear water, and the third holding a single seed buried in rich soil. He poured the water over the seed and held the flame above it. Then, with a twist of his pocket watch, he advanced time in the blink of an eye, and before them stood a small apple tree.

God plucked an apple from the tree. "Knowledge. Knowledge of all that has transpired."

Belphegor took the apple and handed it to her son, who curled his tail tightly around it. "If we give this to our mother… perhaps things will change."

"But how?" Lucifer asked.

"Through the void left behind. It’s a black hole—more than that, it is a gateway. A path back to Eden. One can go back through it, and my son has volunteered."

"Serpent?"

The Serpent gazed into the apple’s shine. "I also feel responsible for how things have turned out. It's the least I can do."

"What will happen when she eats the apple?" Lucifer asked. "If she knows everything… won’t we…?"

God gave Lucifer a weary smile. "Perhaps. Perhaps you will be unmade… or never have been made at all. Everything might return to how it was. I hope Eve doesn’t fall for House Gelid’s tricks again with the knowledge of how to prevent them. But… We don’t have to do this. Your siblings—Belphegor, Beelzebub, Satan, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus—were fated to be. Even if your mother changes course, I suspect they will still come to be. You were not. As such, the choice is yours, Lucifer."

Lucifer looked down, her voice soft. "I wouldn’t exist if it wasn't for her."

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

<i>Perfect</i>.

It was another absolutely perfect day in Eden. As it always was. Everything was perfect. The sky was a perfect shade of soft blue, the rolling green fields of the Utopic garden were perfectly spotted with bright yellow dandelions, and the clear, cool waves of its perfect sea gently lapped at its unending shore. The only imperfection in all of Eden was Eve.

Eve sat at the bottom of a large twisting oak tree, picking at the dandelions, ripping them up by their roots, and throwing them aimlessly in front of her. She leaned her head back against the trunk behind her, letting out a sigh as she watched the clouds drift slowly across her endless sky.

"Beautiful day, isn’t it?"

Eve gasped and looked up to see a Serpent coiled around the tree. "Where did you come from?"

"Little redundant though, isn’t it? Every day here is… beautiful. Perfect, even." The Serpent smiled, dropping down in front of her. "I was sent by… Abraxas."

"Abraxas?"

The Serpent nodded. "In a way, yes. His Skald—what a sight it is."

Eve sighed, glancing around at her unchanging Utopia. "Must be nice."

"Mm. Yes. Change is good. Change can be great, actually. Have you ever considered… changing things here?"

Eve began to nod, then shook her head. "It can’t be done. I’ve tried." She pulled out a small notebook hidden within the tree. "Look. Every time I come up with something new… everything resets."

The Serpent’s eyes widened as he slithered onto Eve’s arm. "I might have a cure for that. Look." He held up an apple with his tail. "A fruit of Knowledge."

"Where did you get this?" Eve asked, taking the apple from the Serpent. "This isn’t… supposed to be here. Eden has no fruit—only dandelions."

The Serpent hesitated, searching for an answer to a question that had suddenly become his own. "From the tree, of course. It hung at the very top, out of your sight. It clung there, desperate not to fall, but now it has. It will die. So, you might as well eat it while it’s fresh."

Eve’s eyes narrowed. "Who actually sent you?"

The Serpent sighed. "I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this… temptation thing. Eve, if you eat that apple—everything changes. Everything. I wasn’t lying when I said it’s a fruit of Knowledge. It is. It holds everything that will happen in the days, years, and centuries to come. If you eat it, you’ll see what will be—and you can change it. Or you don’t eat it, and everything stays the same, as it always has been and always will be. But… if you don’t eat the apple, you will die. Not a mortal death, but you will cease to exist, and Eden will rot into nothingness."

Eve clutched the apple to her heart. "I will die if I don’t eat it?"

"In a sense, yes. Practically speaking, yes. If you don’t have the knowledge to avoid what’s coming, you will die."

"Do you already know what will happen?"

The Serpent gulped, winding his way around Eve’s body as he continued to dig himself deeper. "Yes. No. I know some of what will happen, but not as much as the apple does. It was made by God—"

"God?"

"…Right. I mean, it was made by… an Archon. It holds everything. I know what you need to do to survive, but you have to understand, Eve, you’re going up against Fate itself and I can’t—"

"Fate?"

"Yes. Fate. If I tell you what not to do, Fate will twist it around to ensure that you do it anyway. The only hope you have to beat Fate is to know what it already has in store, and for that, you need to eat the apple. You have to be the one to know how to change things."

Eve stared at the apple. It seemed to shine a bit brighter. "How do I know you weren’t sent by Fate as well?"

The Serpent paused. "…Yes. That’s possible, I guess. That’s the thing about Fate, Eve. It’s nearly impossible to know if you’re working for or against it. But I wasn’t. At least, I don't think I was. I was sent to deliver the apple, tempt you to eat it, and let you decide for yourself what to do with the knowledge. That’s it. Look, I’m not going to tell you what to do. I don’t know what to do. If you don’t want to eat the apple, nothing changes. It’s your choice—"

Eve sank her teeth into the apple, and time itself seemed to shudder. The sweetness on her tongue was fleeting, replaced by a rush of something far beyond the Archon’s senses—an all-encompassing torrent of knowledge. The entirety of creation unfolded within her mind: every star, every atom, every quark became known to her in an instant. She saw every joy and tragedy woven together in a vast, intricate web. She witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, the birth of her eight beloved children, the never-ending struggle between fate and free will. As the Universe and Creation sang within her, she understood the delicate balance between good and evil, the purpose behind every action, every choice, every tear shed, and every drop of blood spilled. The apple held the essence of all that was, will be, and should be. The knowledge was too vast, too profound to fully grasp, yet in that moment, she understood it all—her place in the grand design, the power she now held, and the responsibility she must carry forward, like a dandelion seed drifting in the wind.

She ate the apple, and she <i>would</i> die.</span>