“The Chronarium remembers everything, fragments of timelines, reflections of choices never made. It’s a burden, a song, a cage.”
Delmotte is not a name, not entirely. It’s a resonance, a key. It refers to the individual who, centuries ago, established the Chronarium – a vast, interconnected repository of potential realities, meticulously recorded and preserved. The Chronarium isn't a building, not in the conventional sense. It’s a state of being, a network woven through temporal anomalies, accessible only to those who possess the ‘Echo,’ a unique neurological signature linked to Delmotte’s own.
The purpose of the Chronarium is ostensibly to observe, to learn from the myriad iterations of existence. But the records reveal a darker purpose: the subtle manipulation of timelines, not for grand, heroic interventions, but for incredibly precise corrections – preventing minor tragedies, smoothing out insignificant ripples. Delmotte believed that even the smallest disturbance could cascade into catastrophic divergence. The Chronarium, therefore, became a tool for calculated intervention, a desperate attempt to impose a degree of order onto the chaotic symphony of possibilities.
However, the Chronarium isn’t without its flaws. Prolonged exposure to the reflected realities begins to erode the individual’s sense of self. Memories become fractured, identities blur, and the line between observed and experienced becomes dangerously indistinct. The ‘Echo’ itself, intended to unlock the Chronarium, transforms into a parasitic connection, feeding on the observer’s essence.
Within the Chronarium, fragments of Delmotte’s consciousness reside alongside countless others – echoes of past observers, distorted reflections of potential selves. These aren’t ghosts, not exactly. They are data points, probabilities given form, trapped within the temporal currents. Some attempt to communicate, to warn, to offer guidance – but their words are often garbled, their intentions obscured by the overwhelming tide of reflected experiences.
The Chronarium Artifacts – strange, shimmering objects discovered within the Chronarium’s core – are remnants of these attempts at intervention. They are echoes of actions taken, moments of altered probability, crystallized into tangible form. They pulse with residual energy, a testament to the immense power – and the profound danger – of manipulating the flow of time.
“To change one thing is to unravel the fabric of existence. We merely guide, we never dictate.”
Discovered in the “Nexus of Divergence,” a region where timelines converge and fracture. Emits a low-frequency hum and displays fleeting images of alternate versions of Delmotte’s life. Analysis suggests it was used to prevent a minor plague outbreak in 17th-century France – a change that ultimately resulted in the rise of a vastly different, and far more oppressive, monarchy.
This smooth, obsidian-like stone is intensely cold to the touch. It records the precise moment of a catastrophic fire in 2347, a fire that was averted by a subtle alteration to the atmospheric conditions. However, the alteration triggered a chain reaction, leading to the collapse of a major metropolitan city and the deaths of millions. The stone is a chilling reminder of Delmotte’s hubris.