U-EDEN00 (Aug 30, 2022)
Puzzle
"Harbinger of Disaster."
Knowledge – 0 | 2 Words
Clue
Hover over the clues if you require!
Clue 1: Something that brings only disaster.
Clue 2: You can kinda guess what it is already - but look through the CD receipts in All Wound Up.
Answer and Explanation
Answer: The Eight
Explanation: In CD-BTC08 of Year Zero, Jean-Marc says that the number brought nothing but disaster to those who held it.
Summary of Receipt
Summary
Transcript
(Note - this receipt depends heavily, heavily on CSS that isn't in the Wiki. I'd recommend reading it on the CaD Archives itself.)
Perfect.
It was another another another absolutely day in Eden. As it always was. Everything was. The sky had rotted and sunk down into the fires of hell, the rolling black fields of the garden were spotted with inky black rotting dandelions, and an empty ocean sat at the mouth of an unending shore. Eve.
Eastward, God had planted a garden and it was Eden. There he had imprisoned the woman whom he had tricked. And out of the ground God made every tree grow that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food; it had all rotted away so long ago. But Eve could not see it. The tree of life. The tree of knowledge. It was there in the center of the garden. Its fruit stolen, ripped, and rotten. Good and evil.
"The first time I looked in your eyes,"
Eve sat at the bottom of the large twisting tree of life, picking at the decay around her, ripping it up by its roots, and throwing them aimlessly in front of her. She could freely eat from any tree but the tree she sat under. She would die. She would finally die. She would finally be free. She would rot away.
And God said, it is not good that she should be alone; he would make her a helper suitable for her. Now the Lord God had formed out of the ground all the wild animals and the birds in the sky. The birds in the sky sang a song day and night but Eve never saw a single bird in Eden. Eve no longer had a name for the animals, or birds, or plants—it had all rotted away so long ago.
"I'm sorry."
God ripped her apart. God ripped out her ribs. God made from heavenly bones and rotten flesh a reminder of her greatest sin. It was Adam. Bone of her bones, flesh of her flesh, torn from her womb.
Eve too would form life from the ground—animals and birds, though she no longer remember what they should look like, or how they should be. They were rotten and she was never satisfied with them. Eve could never learn—Eve could never remember—All Eve could do was rot.
"I'm so sorry."
She was also so easy to tempt, one way or another. All it took was a smile and an outstretched hand to lead her astray. To lead her into thinking she, too, could create a life of her own. She should've known it wouldn't be that easy. She should've known that the Lord God did not intend to rule over bedlam and pandemonium, leading armies of Angels against her rotten seed for all eternity. Perfection, as it turns out, is easy—she needed only to do nothing at all. Everything was. Everything was.
Perfect.
Perfect.
Perfect.