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This is a chronicle of my journey to find a genuine portal to that
other city. To fully describe the path I took, it was necessary to
include multiple pictures. It began at some point along Tech Center
Parkway, a desolate back road.

I began my expedition on a bleak, empty road, flanked on both sides by
vast expanses of sparse grass and the detritus of long-forgotten
construction projects. This seemed like a good place to begin, as
walks down this road always fill me with a sense of the surreal. After
I walked for a good ten minutes, I noticed a large pipe leading into
the ground. I peered into it and discovered that it was very deep,
with a metal ladder embedded in the side. Throwing caution to the
wind, I climbed down into the pipe. At the bottom, it sharply turned,
going horizontally in an indeterminate direction. At the end of the
tunnel I could see a faint light. At first I could walk through it,
hunched only slightly. As I progressed, the pipe grew narrower and
narrower, as last necessitating that I crawl through. After what
seemed like an eternity, I squeezed out of the end, becoming enveloped
in blinding sunlight. Once my vision returned, I swept my gaze around
the landscape and immediately noticed the Hill. To me, it was
breathtaking. It was a hill, flanked by woods and containing a single
path through the middle. It beckoned me on, practically screaming that
wonders lay over its crest. I followed its urges, trekking to the top.
What laid beyond was entirely unexpected. A vast grey building stood
before me, like a huge monolith. It was entirely featureless except
for a single door at the bottom center, and a few engravings wrapping
their say around the structure. The entire thing was surrounded by
perfectly tended grass. I approached the door and turned pristine,
shining knob. It opened without so much as a creak and I peered
inside. My eyes were met with nothing save a huge expanse of grey
cement floor. To my extreme surprise, the building contained nothing.
The colossal flat expanse of floor stretched out before me,
interrupted by no objects of any kind. The inside walls were as drab
as their outer counterparts. I stepped inside, shut the door, and
incredulously looked around. I had come all this way, to what seemed
like my objective, only to find an empty, warehouse-like structure? I
turned around, opened the door, stepped into the sunlight, and found
that everything had changed.











It's rather difficult, finding that other city, especially in the town
you live in. This door is one of two identical doors leading down from
White Hall in Laramie, WY, USA. Through these doors, there is a network
of tunnels to ease travel to and from classes on very cold and snowy
days. Very useful system, because almost all winter the outside is
nasty, wet, and cold. The other city that this door leads to is
something it took me a while to discover. In the winter, people walking
outside are quiet bundles of cloth, keeping warmth and conversation to
themselves. In the tunnels, everything is warm and bustling, active.
People talk, interact, there's a real sense of community. I didn't like
this town much, before the winter. It seemed too sparse, too devoid of
life. However, the community that all the locals refer to, the sense of
home, I found that in the tunnels, going back and forth where all the
life was concentrated, keeping a sense that this town IS alive. Now,
even when I walk outdoors, I see that same community, that same feeling
in the town. The connection persists, even though the people are
dispersed and quiet. I don't know that I would find the same feeling in
the summer, or at any other time, but having lived here through the
winter I've gained that sense of community and interaction. That is the
city that was waiting for me through that door, and one that I will
never be able to leave, even if I wanted to.

As for the address, I don't know that White Hall has one. Laramie is so
small that letters addressed to White Hall find their way there
regardless.





1000 de Lotbinière
Vaudreuil-Dorion, Quebec

These are the gates that lead to a different world. In the literal
sense walking pass this entrance, one would find fields laden with
freshly cut green grass, trees that have lived for hundreds of years,
still ponds and fresh water, and the occasional wild animal roaming
around. Currently, you would find a lot of snow, a clear horizon of
white and blue and nothing else for miles. However, more that what can
be seen with eyes and felt with our hands exists passed these gates.
Feelings and emotions that cover the full spectrum can be experienced
here. A sudden increase of serenity waits upon passing these gates;
the relaxing feeling of the surroundings is almost overwhelming. The
feeling of belonging also accompanies you while surrounded by familiar
and friendly faces caught in the same place on the same day. The
competitive nature of traveling the fastest from area to area brings
to one frustration upon frustration while attempting to realize and
fix our mistakes, as well as the feeling of success upon the
understanding of these errors. And the anger in dealing with these
problems, and having to deal with the concurrent problems of the other
people around you. These gates are indeed a genuine portal to that
other city, in such that upon passing trough them a multitude of
scenery and emotions and problems and successes are waiting for you
that would not have been present on the other side. And you indeed get
lost within these gates, a little bit overwhelmed and a little bit
consumed by every little thing that you encounter, and it is something
that will stay with you until you can find a way out. And even though
the exit is just as clear and open as the entrance, once passing
through these gates it is difficult to leave it all behind without
having a better understanding of who you are.

Warm regards,





Location: Strand, London, WC2R 1

Just next door to Kings College and up the road from Temple tube I
noticed the disused entrance to the old Strand underground station.
Well, disused in that it's no longer being used for entrance to a
working underground line. Instead there is a particularly badly
disguised photo booth sitting in part of the entrance.

Now, this is on a main road, that's very noisy. It's quite exposed
and aside from the Deloittes office one side and Kings College on the
other there isn't really THAT much around. So is anyone likely to
come here for a passport photo? Or even likely to be wandering past
and think to themselves 'oh yes, I need a photo, I'll stop in this
windy, exposed, noisy booth and get an attractive one done here whilst
my hair is blowing every which way'. No, let's be honest it's a
complete front and you aren't fooling me secret services!

I sat in the photo booth for a bit and tried looking for the secret
button. There was bound to be one somewhere but despite looking I
couldn't find it. Chances are it might have had something to do with
the coin slot but I wasn't about to start feeding money to secret
government organisations just to see the inside of their base. I mean
what exactly was I going to do had I made it inside anyway? Apart
from try out my Vulcan nerve pinch on a nearby guard.

I'd imagine had I managed to find the secret button/lever then the
stool would have retracted into the floor on some kind of moving
platform whisking myself down into the abandoned tube station network
that this agency use for their work. It makes sense really; you've
got reasonable sized areas, easily converted into office space and
interlinked by an already existent rail network. If one location is
comprised, it's very easy to segment the other cells off from the
defunct location and carry on as normal (assuming hard wired
communications lines and individual emergency exits for each section).

Having spent 20 minutes failing to get in I sat across the street on a
bench with newspaper dated last week, peeking out waiting for a spy to
arrive. None did.

I will resume surveillance next week.





Location Address:
230 City Blvd West Building 6
Orange, CA 92868


Long before I received this assignment from Neurocam my friends and I wondered what was behind the door that you see in this picture. From time to time we would see men and women in blue work shirts come from this door. every time we tried to open the door and see for ourselves what was behind it it was locked. We sat around one evening with a few drinks in us and brainstormed about that door. Some people thought it was just a janitor closet. Others believed that it was an entrance to a secret lair of some sort.

When I received this assignment I knew that it was my duty to find what was behind this door. In my own mind this was an entrance to another part of the city that no one in this area knew about. I staked out the location for several hours waiting to see if anyone came out or in. As time went by two people came out of the door. A man and a woman both wearing blue work shirts. The door closed too quickly and I would have been spotted if I tried to catch the door. I continued to sit there for another hour or so letting my mind wander on what was beyond that portal.

I never once saw anyone go into that door that night. I only saw people exit the door and continue down another hallway. This led me to believe that perhaps it was an entrance to the surface of some secret underground network of tunnels. Why were the people never talking to each other? Why were they all wearing the same work shirts? Perhaps this was some type of corporation that ran the complex or some time of workforce that no one in the area knows about. I knew for sure that I had to get through that door and see for myself what happens if you step through that door.

Sadly I never made it that night. The last time someone came through the door was a man and I could not catch the door in time without being caught. To this day We still wonder where that door leads.

Operative Kane