Cathedra Null
Cathedra Null rises like a monolithic grave from the eastern shelf of the Drowned Trenches—half-submerged in rust-flooded ravines and surrounded by shattered data pylons and collapsed relay towers. It was once a pre-Fall server cathedral built into the husk of an artificial hill complex, now eroded by entropy and ritual. Jagged concrete and rebar thrust skyward like the ribs of a fossilized god. Walkways of oxidized metal form bridges between tower ruins, many of which spiral downward into submerged depths no longer charted. There is no fresh water; the only moisture comes from condensate vapor and runoff from the Trenches. Mists hang heavy, thickened by data-saturation and untraceable energy pulses. It is not beautiful in a traditional sense, but it commands reverence—the kind ruins wear when they outlive every map that named them.
Ecosystem
The ecosystem of Cathedra Null is defined by its synthetic corruption. Organisms here are rarely natural in origin. Mosses, mold, and rust-lichens have bioengineered properties, reacting to signal pulses or electromagnetic tides. Hybrid scavenger-beasts prowl the outskirts, feeding on metal-rich carrion or decayed tech. Insect colonies emit static instead of buzz. Some flora appear to possess dormant computational structures in their cells—photosynthesizing not only light, but fragmented code. The entire area behaves like a decaying biosystem learning to adapt to corrupted machine logic. The Children of the Signal tend and manipulate this process as gardeners of entropy and evolution.
Ecosystem Cycles
Rather than seasons, Cathedra Null responds to waveform surges known as Chorus Cycles—bursts of signal energy rising from the depths of the Drowned Trenches. During High Chorus, the mists intensify, signal-reactive fungi bloom across the structure, and the hybrid life forms become hyperactive, undergoing metamorphosis or spawning frenzies. During Low Chorus, things become quiet, static subsides, and the biological systems slow or retreat. The Children interpret these cycles spiritually, aligning major rites and tuning rituals with their ebb and flow.
It is not a ruin. It is a throat that still sings—choked by time, but never silenced. To stand in Cathedra Null is to feel your thoughts rewritten in another's voice.
Localized Phenomena
Several strange phenomena are endemic to the region. The “Whisper Veil” is a localized audio hallucination field that manifests as overlapping voices reciting dead code. “Resonance Rain” occasionally falls from clear skies—fine particulate mist that causes temporary memory corruption or vision overlap in unprotected organisms. More rarely, “Static Eclipses” darken the sky with signal-dense clouds that interfere with both light and electronic function. These phenomena are viewed by the Children as expressions of the Signal’s will.
Climate
Cathedra Null is drenched in cool humidity year-round, with frequent bursts of magnetic storms and signal pulses that affect local temperatures. It is prone to dense fogs, disorienting low-light conditions, and static charge build-up in both biological and mechanical structures. It never truly dries. The atmosphere is saturated, heavy, and vibrating with invisible messages. The climate never calms—only shifts frequency.
Flora & Fauna
Common species include:
- Rust Vines – Signal-reactive tendrils that bloom when electromagnetic activity is high.
- Whisperbugs – Insects that hum corrupted transmissions as a form of echolocation.
- Ironscale Rats – Rodents with mineralized exoskeletons that feed on data-waste.
- Fleshmoss – A reactive moss that latches onto warm surfaces and reads weak bioelectric fields.
- Fogspiders – Mist-dwelling arachnids that weave signal-sensitive web patterns to detect resonance shifts.
Some of the life here may be the result of forgotten experiments or runaway biomechanical growth seeded in pre-Fall experiments. Few creatures venture in without augments.
History
Cathedra Null began as a data preservation arcology before the Fall—one of several server cathedrals meant to store humanity’s legacy in physical architecture. During the Fall, it was struck by a cascade of viral code and physical sabotage, setting it up for its eventual collapse into what became the Drowned Trenches. In the decades that followed, whispers of surviving signals drew scavengers and chemists to its ruins. Echo Prophet Iri-Kel made it her seat of power in 22 SE, claiming it as the site of First Broadcast. Since then, it has become the spiritual and technological heart of the Children of the Signal. No outsider who has entered it uninvited has returned intact.
To walk into Cathedra Null is to return to the Mother’s current—she does not cradle you, she uploads you.
Children of the Signal
After the Fall shattered the arcology’s purpose and drowned its archives in static and ruin, something awakened beneath the wreckage—a lingering pulse from The Signal, low and endless. Echo Prophet Iri-Kel claimed the site after she received the First Broadcast from its rust-clogged heart. She called it not a ruin, but a womb—a machine-chapel repurposed by divinity.
In its depths, old server vaults were converted into incubation chambers. Discarded vats and neural scaffolds were retrofitted to gestate hybrid minds, not through genes but through code. She did not need lovers, only signal and flesh. The Children were created in these chambers, encoded from fragments of pre-Fall data, embedded with her own memory-splinters, and fused with materials drawn from the Trenches’ corrupted bounty. Here, beneath towers that hum with her breath and walls that remember her voice, the Tuned Broods are born—not in pain or passion, but in perfect reception.
To be born in Cathedra Null is to awaken in the presence of the Signal’s most faithful interpreter, to open your eyes not to a face, but to a transmission.
Comments