[D6, EM] Forbidden Knowledge (Closed)

[Flession]

As I immersed myself in those ancient and eldritch pages, a chill clawed its way up my spine, a shiver that seemed to transcend the boundaries of mere mortal sensation. The letters, if they could be called such, writhed and twisted in ways that defied the laws of language as I understood them. Each page seemed a portal to realms beyond comprehension, vast and incomprehensible, a glimpse into the very fabric of existence. With each passage deciphered, I felt as though I were prying open doors to realities that should remain sealed, revealing truths that were meant to be hidden. The knowledge I gleaned whispered of planes beyond the senses, dimensions where cosmic entities held sway and mortal understanding faltered. The inked symbols seemed to pulse and writhe, as if they were alive, and with every word absorbed, a sense of foreboding wrapped its tendrils around my consciousness.

The insights I gained spoke of incantations that could rend the fabric of reality, summon beings that defy the very nature of existence, and wield powers that mock the feeble limitations of humankind. A siren's call, they beckoned me to grasp these secrets, to wield their unfathomable might, yet the very essence of the knowledge held a darkness, a lurking dread that whispered of consequences far beyond mortal reckoning. I could feel the boundaries of my understanding strain, the thin veil of sanity tugged at by the truths I uncovered. My fingers trembled as I turned the page, revealing secrets of planes and entities, each more horrifyingly magnificent than the last. I could sense the eyes of some inscrutable cosmic entity upon me, as if the very act of reading had summoned its attention, and it judged my mortal audacity.

A weight pressed upon me, an awareness that my very psyche was a fragile vessel too small to contain the cosmic truths I now grasped. I had become an unwilling initiate into a knowledge that should be forbidden, a reality-shattering revelation that whispered of insignificance in the face of the infinite. Closing the tome, I found myself in a haze of both wonder and terror. The words I had absorbed etched themselves into my thoughts, a permanent scar upon my understanding. The forbidden lore had woven itself into the very fabric of my mind, casting shadows upon the fragile light of my previous comprehension.

Staring out into my candlelight, the theories I had scrawled into my head of potential advancements into the sciences were tantalizing. I was a genius, no doubt, but the knowledge within made my own genius into that of a pale insect. The question remained, as I place the book back in its hiding spot; where does one go with this sort of knowledge I waver on my own conviction of nothingness and into a larger possibility of forging something from the pointlessness of existence. Can something come from nothing? All my knoweldge tells me no, but yet, as I gazed upon the pages a possibility exists that it could.