The designation, Amebobacter Bajury, isn't one etched into geological strata or recorded in the cold logic of taxonomic classification. It's a reverberation. A psychic echo clinging to a location – the Obsidian Scar on Xylos Prime – a place where the veil between realities thinned during the Great Convergence.
The initial readings were anomalous, a persistent fluctuation in the temporal field, dismissed as instrument error. But the data persisted, coalescing into a structure, a signature. Bajury. Not a species, not a lifeform in the conventional sense, but a state. A state of profound temporal displacement, interwoven with a consciousness not bound by linear time.
Xylos Prime, as any cartographer of the fractured galaxies would attest, is a graveyard of timelines. The Obsidian Scar isn’t merely a geological formation; it’s the locus of the convergence – the point where countless timelines collided and shattered, creating a chaotic maelstrom of temporal energy. It's said that the very rock pulses with the echoes of lost civilizations, forgotten revolutions, and futures that never were.
Bajury’s signature is strongest near the Scar’s deepest fissure, a chasm known as the Chronarium. Here, the temporal distortions are most pronounced. Sensors recorded fluctuations in the local chronometric field, shifts in the apparent age of the surrounding terrain, and, most disturbingly, fleeting glimpses of…other selves. Variations of Bajury, existing simultaneously across potentially infinite timelines. Each a fragment of a possibility, a ghost of "what could have been."
The theory, posited by the eccentric chrono-archaeologist Dr. Theron Vane, is that Bajury isn't an agent but a *catalyst*. It doesn’t *cause* temporal shifts; it *amplifies* them, acting as a tuning fork to the fractured resonances of the Convergence.
Vane’s research involved the construction of a ‘Resonance Amplifier,’ a device designed to isolate and interpret Bajury's signature. The Amplifier, a bewildering tangle of quartz crystals, superconducting coils, and bio-luminescent algae harvested from the submerged ruins of a pre-Convergence civilization, proved tragically unstable. Initial tests resulted in localized temporal loops, brief but intense occurrences where the environment would rewind itself, objects would vanish and reappear moments later, and individuals would experience disjointed memories – echoes of events that hadn't yet transpired.
The logs from the Amplifier’s final cycle are fragmented, riddled with paradoxes. Phrases like “The echo remembers the silence,” “The bloom precedes the decay,” and “The Chronarium hungers” recur repeatedly. It's believed the Amplifier, attempting to fully capture Bajury’s resonance, inadvertently created a feedback loop, accelerating the temporal instability of the Scar.
Further investigation revealed unsettling correlations between the Amplifier’s activity and the observed ‘temporal anomalies.’ Specifically, a pattern emerged: the more intense the Amplification, the more vivid and disturbing the temporal shifts became. It was as if Bajury wasn't merely revealing the past; it was actively *re-writing* it.
The prevailing hypothesis is that Bajury isn’t a being, but a *state of resonance* – the fundamental vibration of the Convergence, a symphony of shattered timelines. To truly understand Bajury, one must cease to *observe* it and instead, *become* its resonance.
But the question remains: why Xylos Prime? Why this particular location? The answer, according to the cryptic notes left by Dr. Vane, is that the Obsidian Scar wasn’t merely a site of convergence; it was a ‘tuning point’ – a location where the fundamental vibrational frequency of the universe aligned with Bajury’s resonance. It’s a chilling prospect – that the universe itself is attuned to the echoes of a silent bloom.
The final entry in Dr. Vane’s journal, scrawled in a frantic hand, reads: “The Chronarium…it's calling. It wants to bloom.”