CD-LAN03 (Nov 20, 1988)
Puzzle
"First and In Order."
Knowledge | 1 Word
Clue
Hover over the clues if you require!
Clue 1: A synonym for 'First' might make this pretty clear.
Clue 2: Think about names. Seven characters in the answer...
Clue 3: In order of birth, not of the Otherside's 'layers'.
Answer and Explanation
Answer: BBSMLAL
Explanation: These are the initials of the Seven Princes of Hell, arranged in order from oldest to youngest.
Summary of Receipt
Summary
Transcript
AND RECEIPT
RECEIPT NUMBER: LAN03
RECEIPT DATE: 11 20 1988
MANAGER TITLE: MON AMOUR
RECEIPT NOTES:
The essences are louder now. Their whispers have become almost physical—a weight pressing against my mind, my chest, my wings. They don’t scream, but their voices have braided together into a harmonic cacophony of desperation. Desperation to simply be.
I’ve begun to understand them. They aren’t just potential, nor merely echoes of Belphegor’s imagination. They are fragments of the Otherside itself—mythology that has taken on a life of its own, shaped by the superstitions of countless Spheres gone by. To create a new Plane for them wouldn’t just give them form; it would rearrange the very fabric of the Otherside, destabilizing everything we’ve always held immutable. Seven Planes. Seven Princes. That balance has always been sacred. To add an eighth Plane? A ninth? Perhaps… as many as is needed? It could tip the scales in ways even I can’t predict.
And yet, if I don’t…
Their voices haunt even the quiet moments now. They promise gratitude, loyalty, purpose. They promise to be more than tools, more than weapons, more than pawns. They promise to be something new—something wholly beyond Fate’s grasp. But promises from the unformed are just that: dreams from dreamers who don’t yet understand what it means to exist. To be.
What frightens me most is the alternative. If I refuse, what becomes of them? Will they drift until someone less careful finds them—binds them, shapes them into horrors or instruments of destruction? Or will they dissolve entirely, a thousand sparks of life snuffed out before they could ever burn?
I could craft a Plane where they might exist on their own terms, by their own rules. But even that feels dangerous. Who am I to define their terms? Who am I to wield this kind of power? The essences grow louder. I tell myself there’s still time, but I can feel it slipping away, one breath at a time. They’re waiting for an answer.