Difference between revisions of "Codexium Infinitae"
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== Overview == | == Overview == | ||
The '''Codexium Infinitae''' is one of the oldest and most feared libraries in the known world—a towering and burrowed archive that predates modern civilization, possibly even humanity itself. Located deep in Little Akkadia, it rises thirty stories into the air and burrows at least fifty floors below. Surface volumes number over 240 million, with rumors that the subterranean levels hold a mirror number of books humanity was never meant to read. | The '''Codexium Infinitae''' is one of the oldest and most feared libraries in the known world—a towering and burrowed archive that predates modern civilization, possibly even humanity itself. Located deep in Little Akkadia, it rises thirty stories into the air and burrows at least fifty floors below. Surface volumes number over 240 million, with rumors that the subterranean levels hold a mirror number of books humanity was never meant to read. | ||
| + | |||
| + | == Nickname == | ||
| + | The huge building is commonly known as "The Dex." | ||
== History == | == History == | ||
Revision as of 19:48, 14 July 2025
| Location | Cordis, The Patchwork |
|---|---|
| Type | Library, Pre-Civilization Archive |
| Notable Features | * 30 floors above ground
|
| Status | Mostly abandoned (above ground); subterranean levels restricted or mythic |
Contents
Overview
The Codexium Infinitae is one of the oldest and most feared libraries in the known world—a towering and burrowed archive that predates modern civilization, possibly even humanity itself. Located deep in Little Akkadia, it rises thirty stories into the air and burrows at least fifty floors below. Surface volumes number over 240 million, with rumors that the subterranean levels hold a mirror number of books humanity was never meant to read.
Nickname
The huge building is commonly known as "The Dex."
History
According to preserved murals in the atrium vaults, the Codexium was first constructed during the so-called Ouroboran Epoch—a forgotten era when gods walked the earth and language was still molten. Legends suggest the first books were bound in serpent-hide and written in blood older than mammalian life. Over the centuries, scholars, madmen, and monarchs have attempted to catalog its contents, but none have succeeded. Whole civilizations have lost themselves in the effort.
Facility Description
Above ground, the Codexium resembles a towering ziggurat crossed with an orrery—its polished obsidian walls shift in tone under different phases of the moon. Internal chambers are illuminated not by sunlight, but by bioluminescent manuscripts that glow with cognition-reactive ink. Doors open only for those carrying a true question.
The deeper levels—those below ground—are carved from impossibly smooth stone. The 13th through 17th sublevels are said to twist spatiotemporally, looping back on themselves. The 29th contains the so-called Shadow Ledger, a black catalog listing titles that can never be safely read.
At the 50th sublevel and beyond, things are stranger still. Records speak of vaults without doors, halls of whispers, and living indexes that change their order based on the researcher's intent. It is unknown how many floors lie below—some say the Codexium has no true bottom.
What Happens If You Read Too Much
Too much exposure to the wrong books can lead to a syndrome called Scriptorum Drift—a condition where the reader’s language centers disassociate from the rest of their mind. Victims begin to speak only in lost tongues, bleed ink from the eyes, or physically vanish into the margins of the library itself. Those who descend too deep often return illiterate, blind, or worse—fluent in something they cannot forget.
Staff
The Codexium is maintained—if that word applies—by the *Whispering Lamplighters*, a guild of mute librarians who communicate only through scent and sigil. They carry living lanterns that shrink in brightness when lies are spoken nearby.
The upper floors also contain a small population of so-called Thread-bound, former readers who lost themselves to the deeper stacks. These individuals are docile but permanently altered, their skin tattooed with living citations.