“Is this normal or am I becoming furniture?”

GALACTIC COUNCIL INCIDENT REPORT #8841-HUM

Subject: One (1) Human, bedridden
Location: Primitive dwelling, “Bedroom.”
Reason for Observation: “Bacterial infection” (again)

Real life has once again confined me to bed rest due to a bacterial infection, which has now attracted the attention of Aliens from Somewhere Very Judgmental. I’ve been prescribed a five-day course of medication, and while Earth doctors say I’ll recover, the aliens have convened a floating council at the foot of my bed to observe.

They are unimpressed.

“This human has been immobilized by microscopic organisms,” one alien whispers, tapping a glowing clipboard.
“Pathetic,” another replies. “On Kepler-22B, we weaponize our bacteria.”

The medication kicks in, triggering side effects, and the aliens lean closer.
“Ah, yes,” says the tall one. “The Sacred Phase of Nausea and Confusion. This is normal for their species.”
I attempt to sit up. The aliens immediately mark something down.
“Subject tried to be productive. Failed.”

“Release the human in five days.
 Recommend blankets, water, and zero guilt.”

Now I lie here, wrapped in blankets like a specimen burrito, while the aliens debate whether my brain fog is a symptom or just who I am. They agree recovery is likely, but only if I continue to hydrate, rest, and stop apologizing for existing.

In five days, I may be released back into society.
Until then, the aliens will watch.
They always watch. 

Before leaving, one alien turns back and smirks.
“And tell your species we are tired of your bacteria.”

Ohhh yes. The aliens are thrilled.

After the interstellar wellness inspection, I will be able to visit Area 52 again and invent some more notable stories that can only happen in Second Life.

In the meantime, since that is all I have for now, you may leave comments in the designated section that says comments, or on Discord, or as a DM what to plan next for the alien. 

By the way, the bacterial infection is really happening...for reals.

Relax on Engine 229

Area 52 Mirror Basin

Engine 229 rests at the edge of the Mirror Basin, where water reflects more than the sky, and time slows just enough to notice your own breathing.

The engine no longer runs.
It hums.

Metal warm from imagined journeys. Windows catching violet light. A place to sit without needing to arrive anywhere.

Here, the Mirror Basin is quiet. The surface holds the sky, the moons, and sometimes a version of yourself that looks… rested.

No announcements.
No objectives.
Just the soft echo of a train that has already done enough.

If you’re carrying too much, set it down beside the rails.
If you’re lost, don’t worry, Engine 229 isn’t going anywhere.

Stay as long as you like. The Basin remembers how to be still.

The train at Area 52 isn’t from another world in the usual “crashed UFO” sense. According to SEGI files (the ones that keep re-locking themselves), it’s a transit artifact, something that exists between places rather than belonging to one.

The train is safe.
The train is not neutral.
The train knows when you’re ready to move on.

So yes, another world built it.
But tonight?

It’s stopping at Area 52 for the party, as passengers go down to the Basement Club and listen to some extraordinary music you do not hear anywhere else.

WTTQ ANOMALY LOG STATUS: CONFIRMED

SUBJECT: ⁂¤π∴
DURATION: One day only

No alarms sounded when ⁂¤π∴ AKA Mike returned. Remember, way back in June, Anjelikka married him (Mike), but he left the next day.

At first, it was just a change in the air around Mirror Basin; the water went perfectly still, even where the wind should have touched it. The Kraken did not surface. The lights dimmed. Aliens stopped mid-task, not in fear, but in recognition.

⁂¤π∴ does not arrive.
⁂¤π∴ reappears.

Witnesses describe the entity as present but unlocatable. Reflections showed too much and not enough at the same time. Some saw symbols rearrange themselves on nearby signs. Others swear their own reflections blinked first.
No message was broadcast. No demands were made.

Watching humans arrive, hesitate, and decide whether to step closer. Acknowledging the Aliens. Not greeting them, confirming them. One alien technician reportedly powered down their translator and whispered:

“We remembered correctly.”

Looking into the Basin longer than anyone else ever had.
The water did not reflect the sky during that time.

SEGI instruments recorded zero readings for six minutes straight.
The Kraken shifted deeper, as if making room.
Visitors reported a strange calm, followed later by clarity.

One person left Area 52 early without explanation.
Another stayed all night and finally slept.

At dusk, ⁂¤π∴ turned away from the water. No light. No sound.
Just absence, like a sentence ending cleanly. The Basin rippled once. That was all.

Will he return? We do not know, but he saw something, and he did not say.

The Truth About the Mirror Basin

The Basin doesn’t hide something; it hides when you notice it.

SEGI logs describe Mirror Basin as a reflective threshold, not a container. What lies beneath the water only becomes visible when three conditions quietly align:
Stillness – Movement disrupts it. Running past, camming wildly, or treating it like scenery keeps it dormant.
Witnessing – The Basin responds to being observed, not used. Aliens linger there without interacting for a reason.
Personal resonance – What surfaces is influenced by the viewer’s state, memory, or curiosity.

There is something under the lake, but what?

That’s why no two reports match.

What People Think Is Hidden: A submerged alien structure, a Kraken’s true body, a portal to Kepler-22B, evidence of SEGI manipulation?

All false, or at least incomplete. We don't really know. The Basin shows just enough to unsettle you. Some see movement beneath the surface. Some feel watched. Some suddenly understand why they came to Area 52 at all. The aliens didn’t build the Basin. They are getting ready for a mysterious hunt that will need your help, another SEGI? Perhaps, we are not certain yet.

“Are you ready to see, or just to look?”

Those who aren’t ready see water, trees, fog. Those who are… leave without saying much.

Nothing is hidden in the Mirror Basin that wasn’t already with you.

It simply knows when to reflect it back.

WTTQ BREAKING: The Aliens Demand a Renovation And They Want a Lake

It started, as these things often do at Area 52, with a hum.
Not an alarm. Not a threat. A request.

Late last night, SEGI translators picked up a unified transmission from the visiting aliens. The message was calm, polite, and non-negotiable:
“This place requires water. Still water. Reflective water. A lake.”

According to alien representatives, Area 52 is emotionally vibrant but hydrologically incomplete.

Their reasoning:
Water stabilizes memory. Reflections improve truth detection. Lakes reduce interspecies tension by 43%. Also, it looks nice
One alien reportedly added:
“You have clubs. You have art. You have mysteries. But no lake. This is… confusing.”

A central lake where the desert once was, and now soft bioluminescent reeds (safe for cats, aliens, and goth DJs).
A dock for quiet conversations and loud revelations, but no fishing (they are very clear about this)

Occasional fog “for atmosphere and narrative purposes”
The lake is to be called:
The Mirror Basin
Humans suggested “Lake Area 52.”
Aliens said no.

Area 52 is no longer just a place of arrival.
It is becoming a place of staying.

A lake is not a weapon.
It’s a sign of confidence.

And perhaps the aliens are planning to see themselves reflected here for a while.

WTTQ Channel 10 Unconfirmed Report

Subject: The Mother Road & Area 52
Status: Patterns Emerging

The stretch known as the Mother Road has always been good at hiding things.

Long before Area 52 was named, mapped, or softly lit at night, the road existed as a corridor not just for travelers, but for signals. Stories drift along it. Frequencies linger. Some places remember who passed through.

Recent observations suggest the Mother Road is not separate from Area 52, but connected to it. Not by distance. By intention.

Markers along the road align with anomalies detected at Area 52:
flickers in the sky
time behaving politely, but incorrectly
travelers arriving earlier or later than expected

Old diners. Empty motels. Roadside signs that seem to hum when no one is near.
These aren’t abandoned. They’re listening.

WTTQ analysts believe the Mother Road acts as a feeder line, a place where stories gather before converging on Area 52. Those who arrive at Area 52 often pass the road first, whether they remember it or not.

Some locals claim the road “chooses” who gets through.
Others say it simply waits.

What is clear is that if you’ve felt a pull toward Area 52, if the idea of it arrived before the invitation, the Mother Road may have already carried you part of the way.
Travelers are advised to notice what signs repeat, listen to what feels familiar, and not rush through places that feel empty. The Mother Road keeps secrets. Area 52 answers them.

Further connections under review.
WTTQ Channel 10 Stay curious. Protect your signal.

Haters can stay away; nobody needs them.

Absolutely. And here’s the truth of it plain, steady, and unshakable:

Not at Area 52.
Not in Second Life.
Not in real life.

The aliens would call haters energy drains beings who feed on reaction rather than creation. They don’t build worlds; they poke holes in them and wait for attention to leak out.

At Area 52 and the Retreat, the rule is simple:

If you arrive curious, you’re welcome.
If you arrive cruel, the door doesn’t open.

Haters aren’t exiled.
They’re just… not centered.

And that’s the important part:
You don’t have to fight them. You don’t have to explain yourself. You don’t have to lower your vibration to meet theirs.

You keep creating. You keep dancing. You keep telling strange, beautiful stories.
Let them stay outside the perimeter, arms crossed, missing the lights.

Nobody needs them

At Area 52, the visitors have learned this the hard way. Humans panic. They gossip. They project. They dismiss what they don’t understand. The aliens watch all of it and still choose not to shrink.

You don’t owe anyone your altitude. Curiosity is lighter than bitterness. Staying kind is not the same as staying small. The aliens don’t descend for approval. They hover, observe, and move forward anyway.

.