The Chorus

A twisting creature with an almost-wooden texture to its skin, wrapping itself with many elongated limbs, whose head resembles a moon, with hairlike tendrils extending outward as though flowing in the wind, or in water.

Its initial efforts to surveil the citizens of Shanghai were crude, easily-detected, and the subject of widespread mockery. But The Chorus was patient and plumbed cold, abstract spaces where thought is more akin to scintillation in a cloud chamber, or the deliberate extrusion of a spider’s web. The cycle of public outrage had long-since moved on after the last of the security cameras, in laughably-bad camouflage, were dismantled. But by then, The Chorus had opened its fiber-optic veins and begun to sprinkle upon the world the first of many invisible, autonomous minds.


This entry was never completed, but hinted at a quasi-malevolent entity that manipulated the goings-on in and around Shanghai of the late-20th century.

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Archival Process

Open sketchbook with two pencils laid across its pages, with a mostly-complete graphite sketch of the chorus, uncolored.