Thanks to Agents around the world we have recovered this fascinating and incredible document (Felicia Hajra-Lee — is this your work?).
It’s transcribed below… Let me know in the comments what you think this means…
A moment of silence.
Susanna stood before the Portal. She closed her eyes and focused inward. The sounds of traffic — of surf blues from the Gaslamp Quarter — the seagulls — they slowly faded away… She measured her breathing. Too rapid. Her heart was throbbing. The ocean breeze tickled her nose. She had to tune it all out. One sense after another — extinguished. She became aware of the vast network of electrical exchanges and chemical interactions that defined her. She harmonized them and then commanded them into silence. She stood stone still, mostly invisible to those passing her by. But she could not suppress the XM haze that still hovered over the Anomaly Site.
She was charged. That distinctive XM tingle. It lay deep but was powerful. Even though she did not believe she was a truly powerful sensitive, the amount of XM being generated and used in this area was affecting her. It was a natural consequence of abundance.30.05.4754.09.42.34.848&09.06.3506.21.09.26.974
She blotted out the past. She blotted out the present. Finally, there was only the future. She had a mission. It wasn’t about revenge. Revenge was going to be her cover. A very plausible cover. She’d learned that from Phillips at the NIA. Use what they want to believe against them, he had said. Jahan and Smith had murdered her father. The desire for revenge makes people rash. Impulsive. They would count on her to be stupid and attack Jahan. So let them.
Jahan and Smith were but pieces in a much larger game. And Susanna was going to change that game. She alone, among all of the 6 billion people who occupied this place in time and space had that ability. It rested in the phrase whispered to her by her father in their final moments together.20n98e22i13c83f38o99q30f56s74t63e61v93v79w26e25n10e55r97e68n19z87i59e81o52u
Nigel Moyer had stared deeper into the cosmic abyss than anybody, but his time was not right. It hadn’t been right for Obsidius or the Vesuvian Magnus or in any of the other times when people had understood… this.
The time was now. Or was she deluding herself? Didn’t every generation think they were living in the end times? The thought that she was delusional washed across her mind. She dismissed it. It was not useful.
Another one broke through instead. She saw a man peering through the archives of a university library. He looked up as if he knew he was being watched. Susanna knew in that moment that she had triggered something — psychic staring effect — scopaesthesia — whatever its name was. The man met her gaze. He knew he was being watched, but by whom and from where? His movements became faster, more stealthy. More aware.
Susanna knew she had to talk to him. She felt the Portal near him. It was marked by a man with twisted crook and mitre. A bishop or a pope or a saint. A word came to her. Miskatonic. She knew where to go.