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| TOP SECRET//HCS-P//SAR-WHITE DOVE//NOFORN | |
|---|---|
| Department of Esoteric and Thaumaturgical Research | |
| RECORD ID: | DETR-DIR-1983-009 |
| SOURCE: | CIA-DO_SAC_SOG_T1 |
| DERIVED FROM: | DETR NSC-CG-11 |
| PROJECT: | AZAZEL |
| FORMED: | 1983 |
| PRECURSOR: | CIA Directorate of Operations |
| HEADQUARTERS: | Site Azazel, Antarctica |
| BUDGET: | Classified (Black budget) |
| TOP SECRET//HCS-P//SAR-WHITE DOVE//NOFORN | |
The United States Department of Esoteric and Thaumaturgical Research (DETR) is a highly classified, independent executive agency of the United States federal government responsible for the study, containment, and weaponization of anomalous, occult, and thaumaturgical (wonder-working) phenomena.
History
Established in 1983 following the catastrophic repercussions of Operation ████ █████, the DETR was spun off from the Central Intelligence Agency's Directorate of Operations with the covert backing of the Special Activities Center (SAC/SOG) and the U.S. Joint Special Operations Command.
Created to counteract the growing thaumaturgical divisions of the Soviet Union, the DETR serves as the Western bloc's primary shield in the ongoing Thaumaturgical Cold War. Unlike conventional intelligence agencies, the DETR operates entirely outside public scrutiny, funded through black budgets and cloaked behind a vast network of shell corporations.
Objectives and Operations
The agency's primary objective is to prevent a "Thaumaturgical Gap"; a hypothetical scenario where the Soviet Union achieves a critical mass of supernatural weaponry capable of bypassing traditional nuclear deterrence.
The DETR's primary research and containment facility, codenamed Site Azazel, is located approximately 20 kilometers south of the Antarctic Vostok Station, buried deep within the ice sheet at a depth of 3,000 meters.
Recovered Documents
The following text was recovered from terminal log file `tty1.txt`. It is attributed to the agency's Director-General under project classification level TOP SECRET//HCS-P//SAR-WHITE DOVE//NOFORN.
I fear the night.
Not the dark: you can light a match against that.
But the hush that follows, the blank interval where a question echoes and no one answers.
Every evening I check the locks twice and then a third time,
as if steel could quiet the grinding in my head.
A noise slips through the cracks in the wall.
Words unspoken that refuse to be recorded.
What did we unmake that day in the hush before dawn?
I never say it out loud: the walls have their own way of listening.
And the night lingers at the window and asks none of this and breathes its long
unpronounceable name.
And I wonder if we severed the bond or if we kept it to ourselves
and if the silence is reprieve
or if it is indifference written in ink no one can see.
And if the lamb ever comes
it will not come with glory but quietly,
like someone arriving too late for trial.
And will it find anything worth redeeming in what we chose to spare?
I keep the ledger closed now.
Still I count.
The distance between the question and the answer.
And if the voice should break the quiet will I know it,
or will it sound like my own?
Most nights I stare at the numbers and they never speak and they stay dumb,
the silence heavy in my room like a judge.
And I cross out helpless sentences.
And I wait for a knock that never comes.
And it feels like the world stuck between breaths
and everyone looking and none deciding.
So I sit with it.
And I do not move.
I do not yet know how to forgive.