A Robot in the Tower of Wisdom

The Church of Illusions

What I have to report, dear reader, is strange and unheard of in the highest degree. I hope I can find the right words to describe what I have seen and experienced, and I must apologize in advance if my language is inadequate. I am only a simple building statistician, and the events before me are more profound than my professional experience.

My last construction assignment, the church on the outskirts of the secluded town of Gherdeal, far removed from life as we know it and surrounded by barren hills, seemed at first glance and from the outside to be rather inconspicuous, almost dilapidated, with peeling plaster and a tower leaning dangerously to one side.

Architecturally, the church was a paradox. Its foundations were as old as the hills themselves, with each era leaving its characteristic stamp, without acknowledging the previous style. The external appearance of the church, although modest and worn, concealed an interior that challenged the laws of statics and architecture. Within its walls, Gothic arches seamlessly transitioned into modern steel constructions, and Romanesque columns stood awkwardly next to Art Deco-like portals. This confusing amalgamation created an aura of disorder, making the church not only an eclectic edifice but also a kind of sliding chronicle of architectural development.

The townspeople avoided the church. They told stories of people who went inside and never returned or came back confused and changed. The church became the subject of rumors and speculation, a place where the boundary between reality and imagination seemed to blur.

They told me that one day, at the end of the last century, a stranger like me from the capital came to Gherdeal. I can say that strangers immediately stand out in this part of the country. He was a rational man, apparently a scientist by profession, drawn by the arcane stories about the church and determined to solve its mystery. The stranger initially approached the church with the curiosity of a researcher. He spent his days and nights there, meticulously documenting the coexistence of styles, the surreal convergence of eras. However, the deeper he penetrated the building, the more the church revealed its true nature. Corridors branched off at impossible angles, rooms appeared and disappeared again, stairs led nowhere.

The townspeople, who were already suspicious of the church, began to avoid it even more. The scientist was rarely seen, and when he did appear, he was described as looking emaciated and disturbed, as if he had seen or discovered something unsettling.

After several months, the stranger suddenly disappeared. No one had seen him leave, and no trace of him was found in the town. It was as if he had vanished into thin air. Years later, workers carrying out modernization work discovered a hidden chamber beneath the choir. Inside, they discovered the mummified body of the scientist, surrounded by his notes and research findings.

These notes are disturbing. They tell us of secrets hidden within the church walls, of dimensions that go beyond our understanding, and of entities that existed in the shadows. Initially, the observations of the stranger are quite clear and scientific, but soon transform into disturbing scribbles - comments and murmurs of a man about to lose himself in the labyrinth of his own mind.

It was clear that he was trying to find a way out, but every step led him further into a bewildering world that constantly changed its form, and every door he opened only took him deeper and deeper into the church. Before his eyes, hallucinations and visions played out, one more fascinating than the next, drawing him down into a visual and sensory vortex.

He accepted the labyrinth of illusions, which in turn began to consume him gradually. The constant whispering of the walls, the flickering of lights from unknown sources, the echo of footsteps that were both his and others' – all this began to undermine his rational mind. He eventually became a part of the mysterious building himself. The church with its endless corridors and shifting realities was no longer just a structure; for the stranger, it had become a living entity that fed on the perception and mind of those who dared to unravel its secrets.

Finally, exhausted from his search and intoxicated by the visions, the stranger apparently gave up all resistance. The church became his home, a place where his own fantasies became reality, a place where he believed he had found his happiness.

His research is extensive but inconclusive. He writes about hearing voices and seeing figures that were not there, about time distortions and reality distortions within the boundaries of the church. The townspeople believe that everything he discovered or experienced had driven him to madness. His voice eventually joined the muted whispering that permeated the halls of the church.

His death remains a mystery. The official documents dryly state that he died of natural causes, but those who have read his records know that the truth is likely more complex and frightening.

As far as I know, the forensic examination of the mummified body did not determine a clear cause of death. The medical examiner did remark to me, however, that the deceased seemed to be smiling, which, as he immediately added, could also be due to rigor mortis.