WTTQ Channel 10’s unofficial, partially decoded transmissions

The aliens from Kepler-22B do not want conquest, resources, or leadership roles at Area 52. They want very specific, very human things.

They’re fascinated by the hunt, the wandering, the lack of clear objectives. On Kepler-22B, everything has a purpose. Area 52 confuses them in a good way.
“You create games without winners. Explain.”

They already know your statistics. They want your mistakes, your funny moments, your late trains, your failed pastries. Area 52 broadcasts imperfections loudly. That’s rare.

They’ve noticed the outfits that appear without explanation, the clothes that feel like moods rather than garments. They suspect Area 52 understands something about identity they’re still learning.
They are especially curious about Anjelikka, but will not say why.

They are studying generosity that doesn’t come with obligation: helping someone in need, waiting for others during a hunt, dancing with no audience.
“Why give time if nothing is gained?”
Area 52, apparently, gains something they can’t yet measure.

They want to know:
Can beings disagree and still coexist? Can strange visitors arrive without being feared? Can a place allow people to be both guarded and open?

What They Do NOT Want:
To take over Area 52
To replace anyone
To be worshipped
To fix Earth

They are guests. Observers. Quiet learners.

Pictures taken at Ed's Space

The visitors from Kepler-22B came to Area 52 because it’s unfinished, imperfect, and honest.

They didn’t come looking for answers.

They came to see how it feels
to belong somewhere strange
without needing to explain yourself.

Further updates pending. Protect your signal.

WTTQ CHANNEL 10 EMERGENCY BROADCAST

THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
(Actually, it is, but please continue watching.)

Area 52 has detected incoming visitors from Kepler-22B. They are en route. They are curious. They may already be judging our decor.
In response, Area 52 has activated a FULL VISITOR HUNT PROTOCOL.

All residents and guests are advised to:
Remain calm. Do not panic if signage moves, whispers, or contradicts itself. Avoid feeding the aliens after midnight unless explicitly invited

The Hunt will begin as soon as we have more details and will be open to all visitors, regardless of species, timeline, or wardrobe choice.

Expect:
Hidden transmissions
Displaced objects.
Puzzles that seem simple until they aren’t.
At least one moment where you ask, “Was that supposed to happen?”

This broadcast exists to reassure you that:
Area 52 is prepared. The aliens from Kepler-22B mean no harm.
Participation is optional, curiosity is encouraged. If you encounter an alien, please be polite.
If an alien encounters you, remain friendly and do not lie about Earth snacks.

This may be the second SEGI exploration as we know it, and we may get the wicked Dr. Parallax to guide us once again.

Further updates will follow unless the signal is replaced by jazz, static, or interpretive dance.

This has been a WTTQ Channel 10 Emergency Broadcast.
Resume normal exploration.
Protect your signal. Leave your comments below and suggestions, because without you, the aliens may leave.

Area 52 remains a place between worlds where visitors arrive from far away, and sometimes leave with more than they came for.

Name-calling is abuse and will not be tolerated

Before we return to the aliens and Area 52, I have a few things to mention, and hopefully, they will be helpful to all of you here in Second Life as well as in Real Life.

When someone calls you the "B" word, that’s a brutal thing to be hit with, especially when you were trying to be kind and real life already had you on the ropes. Being called that name cuts deep, and when it comes from someone struggling with addiction and narcissistic behavior, it can feel both unfair and exhausting.

You didn’t cause that reaction. Addiction + narcissistic traits often turn shame into blame. When they feel cornered, they lash out at the safest target.

Name-calling is abuse, not honesty. It’s a tactic to regain control or avoid accountability.
You don’t owe someone access to you just because they’re struggling. I’m choosing myself here. Name-calling is abuse, and I do not tolerate it.

I won't mention any names here, because they are NOT worth it. I do wish them healing and sobriety in the real world.

And now back to the aliens we all love so much. 

Snow falls softly at the Retreat

Snow falls softly at the Retreat,
Lanterns glow where worlds still meet.
Candles flicker for the gone,
Names are sung, then carried on.

Beyond the dunes at Area 52,
Neon lights hum something new.
Aliens pause their endless scan
To share a drink, to laugh with men.

At the Retreat, the silence sings,
Memory folds its careful wings.
At Area 52, strange bells ring clear
Hope sounds different, but it’s here.

Two places far, yet stitched by night,
By shared breath, by borrowed light.
For holidays, wherever they be,

Are about who waits and who we see.

Area 52 : 2025 Between the Signals

2025 at Area 52 wasn’t about spectacle.
It was about showing up.

SEGI unfolded not as a perfect production, but as a living thing, spaces opening, trains running late, teleporters misbehaving, and venues revealing themselves piece by piece:

Dr. Parallax, the mastermind of functioning UFOs, the piano curves of J&R’s Ballroom, Moonshadow Motors opening the way to Mars, ED’s stretching from deep space to the moon to underwater worlds, Rachel's Biodome let us breathe in some cosmic air (was it air, actually, we never know), and all the others.

You stepped through gates not knowing exactly where you’d land. And somehow, that was the point.

There were nights filled with music, dancing, and laughter, and nights that felt quieter, heavier, and more honest. Moments when the sky turned violet, when the wolves stood watch, when aliens drank too much, cats weren’t really cats, and nothing felt scripted anymore.

I met people I will always be grateful for.
People who helped shape the experience just by being present. By asking questions. By bringing music. By watching, listening, dancing, and building. By staying kind when it would’ve been easier not to.

I also learned again that not every connection is safe.
That deception exists even in beautiful places.
That protecting your emotional self isn’t bitterness, it’s wisdom.

SEGI reminded me that worlds don’t have to be perfect to be meaningful.
They just have to be alive.

Area 52 in 2025 was a place where imagination and reality blurred, where people came curious and left changed, sometimes softly, sometimes sharply.
Where friendships were formed not because everything went right, but because people kept showing up anyway.

As the year closes, I’m not archiving 2025. I’m carrying it with me. And as SEGI winds down, I’m thankful for everyone who stepped through the gate, for everyone who stayed, and for everyone who helped make Area 52 feel like more than a place.

It was a moment.
And moments like that are rare.

“Zwischen den Jahren” is when time forgets to finish its sentence.”

The aliens noticed humans act differently during this period:
Nobody knows what day it is. Clocks technically work, but no one respects them. Emails become optional. Soup counts as a plan.

To the aliens, this is not laziness. It is a temporal thinning, a soft space where expectations lose their grip.
One alien researcher reported:
“Humans stop performing their identities and briefly become themselves.”

Zwischen den Jahren means between Christmas and New Years

Aliens live in cycles, not calendars. So the idea that humans invented a socially accepted pause fascinates them. They particularly admire that:
Resolutions haven’t started yet, so guilt is low. The year is over, but the next one hasn’t made demands. People wander around in sweaters, eating leftovers, asking, “Is it still a holiday?”
The aliens call this phase: “The Unassigned Time.”

The caribou with antennas noticed something else:
During Zwischen den Jahren, humans are easier to hear.
Less noise. Less urgency. More honesty.
One caribou adjusted its antenna and said:
“This is when humans transmit on their true frequency.”

Anjelikka summarized it perfectly:
“It’s the only time of year when nobody is supposed to be impressive.”

Because of this, Area 52 now honors Zwischen den Jahren by:
Dimming the sky lights. Suspending unnecessary announcements.Allowing naps without explanation

Letting even Rudolph be quiet (this was difficult)
Final Alien Verdict
The aliens believe Zwischen den Jahren is:
Necessary
Fragile
Not to be rushed
And possibly the most human tradition of all. They suggest you stay there as long as you’re allowed. After all, even the universe needs time between the years.

Thank you all for being part of this. The story will continue in the new year.

A Holiday Message from Area 52

From our strange little corner in Second Life, where the lights glow violet, the caribou listen to the stars, and the snow sometimes falls sideways, we wanted to say this:

You did enough this year.

The aliens have been watching (politely, from a distance).
They noticed how tired everyone is.
How much noise the world makes.
How often do people try anyway?

They want you to know:

Rest is not failure.
Quiet is not emptiness.
You don’t have to glow all the time to matter.

At Area 52, the holidays aren’t loud. They’re made of soft music drifting from the Basement Club,

warm mugs held with both hands,
and lights left on not to impress anyone, but so no one feels alone walking home.

The wolves patrol, not to frighten, but to guard. The caribou tune their antennas, not to escape, but to listen for laughter, for kindness, for the moments that don’t make headlines.

Anjelikka adjusted the sky earlier and said simply:
“Let it be gentle this year.”
So wherever you are, whether you’re celebrating, remembering, grieving, or just getting through, Area 52 wishes you warmth, safety, and at least one moment where nothing asks anything of you.

Happy holidays.
We’re glad you’re here.