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Dmaorg Returns

On March 16, 2022, the webpage updated, removing the "Account Terminated" notice and replacing it with the prior content with the addition of a new post.

v-o-lds-ø-y.jpg - A Map of the Continent of Trench

022 03MOON 16

The island on Google Maps

This moon signifies the date that this entry was created, which also coincided with the 7th anniversary of the release of the "Fairly Local" music video. This update consisted of a new image file entitled "v-o-lds-ø-y.jpg", a map of the world of Trench, much larger than any seen previously. A compass on the image indicated that it was oriented with "East is up". The map consists of a large landmass, labelled "Continent of Trench" with the jumpsuit medallion at the top, to the east of the city of DEMA, located on a peninsula. A port near DEMA is labelled "Port Vial", presumably referencing Vialism. To the right of the map (south of the landmass) there is a small island called "Voldsøy". This is the name of a real Norwegian island and translates to "Violence Island" - a probable reference to lyrics from "Migraine".

022 03MOON 17

is-ø-lat-ed.jpg - a new letter signed "Clancy"

On March 17, 2022 a new post appeared on the website, as well as the band releasing a teaser trailer for "The Outside" music video on social media, set to premier the following day.

The new post was a letter signed "Clancy", the first since the 019 01MOON 22 update over three years before. This new file was titled "is-ø-lat-ed.jpg", with "isolated" being a potential reference to the lyrics of "Redecorate" (scaled back and isolated) and the title of the album Scaled and Icy.

I haven’t had the ability to write for what seems like a lifetime. This deprivation is what weighed on me the most. Not the lack of food, or the change of scenery - they wouldn’t let me write anything down.

Well, at least not without them present …

I remember that day vividly. First, they let me out. Even though the hallway was still gray and drab, the new experience was a shock to my system - significantly different than usual captivity. I tried to match the rhythm of the nameless guard’s footsteps as we echoed down the long corridor. I followed close behind, as if I had no choice. Cold concrete encapsulated us and seemed to cast a spill of synthetic calmness. Obedience.

We arrived at a blue door. It was an odd contrast to this concrete maze. As I went through the doorway, I found myself in another typical gray Dema room. The only difference was who was waiting for me.

Four of them. Three of them were unknown to me, but one was clearly Keons. I knew his voice

They proposed an idea. A television show - or whatever it was. I had no idea that I was known outside of my cell, but they informed me that I had garnered notoriety for my schemes and outbursts. They wanted to use my face for the benefit of the city. They handed me a pen - a familiar instrument. Yet, they must be present when I use it. They wanted to manage my imagination and vision. Although shackled, at least I could create again.

Thus began the sessions.

Everyday my cell door would open. I followed the guard down the familiar hall, through the blue door, to sit down at the desk and chair. My designated creative space - perfectly centered under their watchful eye. Sometimes three, sometimes eight - not once were all nine present. He was never there. I would have felt it if he was.

At the end of the session, Keons would take my pen, gather my writings, and send me back. This went on for months.

What were we creating? I wasn’t sure. A variety show with songs and set pieces? Were the rulers of this stifled city actually attempting entertainment for its people? Everything I created had to be “for the benefit of the citizens of Dema” a phrase I heard often. I didn’t question them - I was happy to be out of my cell - and putting words to paper.

On the final day, I wrote the last line, I was asked to name it? The question caught me off guard. This seemed like a decision they would make.

Show Day: They dressed me up and asked me to smile a poor attempt at hiding my sleep deprivation. It was all so colorful, as if compensating for the grayness of the city.

It was a blur. Before I knew it, it was over, and I was back in my cell. I can only remember fragments - only blurred hallucinations of color and chaos - like a dream. The confusion of it all hangs overhead. What was it all for?

… but it wasn’t over

I guess it went well enough for them to request more of me. I was useful to Dema, and my creativity was exploited in new forms - They wanted me to be the entertainment at the Annual Assemblage of the Glorified - a performance at sea for the premiere citizens of Dema.

I knew those weren’t the real bishops on that ship.

I’ll quicken the entry - I need to keep up with the Torchbearer.

During the performance, we were attacked by something in the water. I don’t know what possessed the creature to attack, but it was odd, and felt incredibly intentional. Many lost their lives in the attack, and I was thrashed through the bitter cold waves, yet somehow survived. Did this icy cold preserve me? Why was I spared? I am still so cold as I write.

This place feels foreign - nothing like Trench. From the frigid sea, the air here is somehow colder than the water that surrounds it. I have a strange feeling that this island will provide answers.

I must go.

- Clancy


022 03MOON 18

w-eap-ø-n.jpg

On March 18, 2022, another post was added to the site. This time it was an image titled "w-eap-ø-n.jpg". In the top left corner were a jumble of letter which unscramble to spell "SEIZE KEØNS". The image also featured illustrations of a person raising antlers over their head. Additionally, in an oval there was an upside-down figure, bound by the feet, with antlers over the middle of the body which resemble the sai logo. Underneath this image is the caption "ψυχή κινησις" which translates to "soul movement" or "psychí kínisi". On the rest of the image are lines of text which read

1619250308151109140519-Ø-919.jpg - another new letter signed "Clancy"

seize available vessel
at Voldsøy eastern cove
intercept bishops
glorious gone = available vessel
bishops control the available vessel!
intercept and seize
they will make you a weapon

3 hours later, a new file was uploaded. After releasing the music video "The Outside"

The file was titled 1619250308151109140519-Ø-919.jpg In the filename, let's split the numbers into alphabetical sequences, which is the word "psychokinesis". The name comes from a previous file that was uploaded on the same day.

The post in the file contains a new letter signed "Clancy".

What is this thing? This device? This gift? Some sort of neurological connection or expansion. Psychokinetic weapon?

This is absurd.

Why was this given to me? Why am I the only one that can weild it? Was this the reason that I survived? My mind is racing as I wait here on the rocks - staring off into the darkness. Waiting for our torches to be mirrored - the signal he told me to wait for.

It feels oddly familiar. Not the spikes in my hand, but the power it harnesses, I've felt it before. Is this also the source of those rumors I heard in the dark corners of the city? Legends and stories that I assumed were myth, inspired by children's nightmares - tales of what the bishops would use the bodies for. Those "honorable" citizens who acheived The Glorious Gone - referred to as available vessels.

It all begins to make sense.

The episodes I would have: the blood red vision, my dreams of flying, the out of body account of the rider in the river, the decaying hosts of the television show, the robed figures that commanded the doomed ship...

Had we all been "seized" by the bishops using this same technique? Is this where their power comes from? Are they immortal, or just feeding off the next body, giving their hosts a brief second-life? I am in my original life, why am I available to this control?

This whole time I thought I was battling my inner self. Was I actually under assault for something else? someONE else?

This small eerie island has made me a weapon. We both believe that we can use it to change the momentum of this war. Now, we must return to the mainland where they should be there to recieve is. We will destroy and rebuild. Though it's been years since he last spoke with them, I hope they have not lost faith in The Torchbearers plan.

But how could any of this have been planned?

- Clancy

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