General Description
Level 196, also widely known as “Commonality” or “The Darkness Above”, is composed of interconnected hallways and individually placed rooms similar in style to a 2000's American suburban house. Architecturally, much of the level is curated out of cedar wood, though major portions of the level feature drywall and concrete. Darkness completely surrounds Level 196, with only dim and sporadic soft white lighting serving as the only form of illumination. Flashlights and other light sources not originating from the level itself only shines for approximately 5 feet in front of one before vanishing, contributing to the level's low visibility.
Tempered glass windows are a common sight within Level 196, and they show a variety of different environments. Typically, the windows showcase an upside-down variant of one's current location, with an inverted color scheme. The windows may also show a simple pitch black or white void, as well as a mess of landmasses and hot plasma. Additionally, mirrors are also able to be located within bathroom or bedroom spaces that operate similarly to windows. Mirrors and reflections alike work differently within Level 196, as they appear similar to a camera shot from the back angle and showcasing one facing forward.
Level 196's rooms take a variety of forms and sizes, from small closets to dining rooms and garages. Rarely, larger atrium areas can be found which takes up 2 or more floors. Objects within rooms remains mostly stagnant in appearance and material, with only slight variations on the color and texture. All objects within the level share styles from the late 1970's to the early 2000's era, with no deviations. Electronics such as TV's, video game consoles, radios and VCRs are prevalent within specific areas of Level 196, however they are unable to operate under any means.
Narrow, steep spiral staircases can be located within Level 196 and range from 10 to 35 miles apart from one another. The stairwells resemble those within an apartment building and are made out of wood and steel pylons. These staircases extend upwards a set number of floors, averaging out at approximately 1,000 floors high. However, stairwells extending 50,000 or more floors have been reported. Landings present on each floor allows access. Rooms and hallways surrounding the stairwells are seemingly cut off, resulting in unique shapes and inaccessible areas. Mostly every area within staircases is covered by light, and lighting becomes more prevalent starting from 0.5 to 2 miles away.
Many individuals who entered Level 196 have reported feelings of fear and anxiety that increase with time. Longer stays within the level may also bring along other negative effects, such as helplessness, vulnerability and even slight dizziness. Once a certain threshold is passed, one will develop a severe case of nyctophobia, and may never see the darkness the same way again. Additionally, one has a high chance of being affected with Nyctophobia Delusions as their condition worsens.
Nyctophobia Delusions
Nyctophobia Delusions are visual and auditory hallucinations of varying types, seemingly tied to the level's anxiety amplifying phenomenon. The degree of Nyctophobia Delusions are on a large spectrum and increase with time. Initially, one will begin hearing knocks on nearby doors or walls, cries for help, and whispers in an eerie ambient. Eventually, Nyctophobia Delusions will progress into visual hallucinations, such as grotesque shadows on the walls, doors opening on their own, and entities appearing in one's peripheral vision. The amount of Nyctophobia Delusions will remain at this state until one exits the level or death.
The nature behind Nyctophobia Delusions are currently unknown, other than the phenomenon's tie to the anxiety effect. As a result, many theories have been circulated to explain Nyctophobia Delusions. One of these theories states that Nyctophobia Delusions stem from one's already heightened fear response and fragile survival instincts. As the brain scours for the potential threat, the training from living within the Backrooms activates and the brain fills the void with imaginary threats, leading to Nyctophobia Delusions. Despite a lack of concrete evidence, this theory is one of the most accepted among wanderers.
Entrances and Exits
Entrances
- Entering any wooden door with the number "196" will lead to Level 196.
- Accessing any website related to the 2000's on one of the computers in Level 4 will bring one to Level 196.
- Entering a pool lit by soft white lighting on Level 37 will cause one to pass out before waking on Level 196
- On rare occasions within Level 192, the chains may open up to reveal a hallway within Level 196, which one can travel through to access the level.
- Areas in Level 193 may transition into Level 196.
Exits
- Opening a window showcasing a thunderstorm and jumping out of it will lead to Level 4.
- Exits to Level 197 can be found within certain doors in rare non-lit areas.
- Exiting on the 198th floor accessible by a staircase may lead one to Level 198.
- Wandering far enough may lead one to a door resembling a house's front door. Opening it will lead one to Level 199, Level 306, or Level 434.
- Certain doors will lead one to Level 287, one will be able to tell via Entrance Corruption.
- Entering an out of place playroom and entering the toy house in the corner sends one to Level 818.
I put the phone down and try to sleep, the tiredness buried despite my elevated fight/flight response. Finding four bedrooms side by side was a rarity, so we all decided to use this opportunity to get in a round of resting. We split the four rooms with each other, leading to me getting the room closest to where the hallway ended at yet another one, continuing the maze.
I knew the blue light from the screen would lurk in my mind, though the stress made no difference. I was a nervous wreck, courtesy of my crippling nyctophobia and the level's effects stirred into a large mixing pot of stress. The rest of my team seemed to be unfazed; however, I knew they would eventually succumb to the hallucinations and feelings of helplessness.
I tossed and turned in the bed, craving any sign of sleep. Sleep was my only escape from the constant anxiety, though the anxiety itself formed a complex barrier. Like I regressed to a scared child, I reached for anything to shield me against the outside. The bed lacked no blankets, but I still hoped that one would be waiting for me, just within arm's reach. Eventually, I began using the deep breathing techniques that I taught myself in the wake of danger, which typically would be enough to reduce a panicked mind and resume clarity.
Once all failed, I closed my eyes and waited for a dream to come. Sleep slowly floated towards me as I blanked out.
I woke up and immediately felt myself regress to square one. The sleep did nothing but increase the heavy weights of tiredness holding me down. My fear was only amplified, and I ran on adrenaline alone. I sat up and reached for my backpack, packed with the essentials such as Almond Water, telecommunication radios, and my phone. However, the bag was not there.
Feeling confused, I stood up and searched around the room for any sign of my bag, my nyctophobia only shifting more into its high stance with time. I checked behind the closet and under the bed, even searching every square foot of the room multiple times in case I missed it. But there was no sign of the bag anywhere, with it seemingly disappearing into oblivion.
Realizing that there were very few places to look within the cramped room, I made my way to the door and opened it, in hopes that I have accidentally left it outside in my desperation, or one of my other team members had it.
As I stepped into the hallway, I felt a pull. A very subtle pull, but a pull, nonetheless. The pull led me through the hallway and to the intersection. I looked left and met the familiar sight of corridors. Then, I turned to the right, and that's when I saw it.
A blistering white light, standing where the hallway curved left, overcasting the repetitive drone of the soft white lights. I only glimpsed a small portion; but that was enough to completely cease my overbearing nyctophobia. I instantly knew where the pull was leading me; and it grew into a calling. It wanted me, it needed me, and I needed it. I was willing to see what the light had in store; if only I could just wander into its embrace.
I was so focused on my fascination with the light that I lost track of my objective: to find my lost backpack. I realized that I forgot to ask the rest of my team if they saw the bag, since I figured they would be awake already. The light could wait. I went back to the hallway and entered the other rooms. The rest of my team was still asleep, adrift in their blank world. Not wanting to be a burden, I left them to their dreams.
When I was about to reenter my room and give up on the search, the light grew closer. It now extended to the junction and seemingly grew brighter. The pull towards it grew stronger as well. I needed to see what was behind the light, and I was willing to die for it. In a moment of conscious tie to my mockery of reality, I turned around one last time. All the rooms were gone, and so was my team.
"What team?" I thought to myself. It was just me... me and the light.
I approached the light yet again, and turned to embrace it.
Its bright white prowess shone over me in full force. This was it. Shielding my eyes, I dove headfirst into the llllllllllllllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhttttttttttttttttttttttttttt
First encountered on 12/20/22, the Light at the End of the Tunnel is a formerly unknown phenomenon encountered within Level 196 and is considered to a branch off the already prominent Nyctophobia Delusions. Due to the similarities between the two, many individuals attempt to connect them by stating that the Light at the End of the Tunnel is a Nyctophobia Delusion itself, however the difference in properties separates them.
The Light at the End of the Tunnel initially appears as a shining white light seemingly replacing a section of hallway within Level 196. This "light" appears to position itself in the perfect spot that one would still be able to spot a small sliver of it even when not looking head on. As soon as one spots this "light" one will feel a mix of intuitiveness and curiosity as the light lures one to approach it. Of course, this "light" is only a hallucination, a byproduct of one's already disordered mental state.
Upon approaching the "light", subjects will begin sprinting into it, seemingly in an attempt to access the "light's" interior. Outside observers will only notice one running down a hallway before fainting on the carpeted floor below. Following an encounter with the Light at the End of the Tunnel, subjects will be put into a comatose state, with brain activity slowly decreasing with time. Eventually, activity will vanish to the point of being clinically brain dead, though one can still be kept alive until any sort of life support is cut off.
Fortunately, the Light at the End of the Tunnel is able to be escaped if one catches the signs early enough. The urge to run towards the light is strong, but able to overcome. Resisting it will cause the urge and the light itself to dissipate. However, recovery for victims further along is more complicated, and often requires extensive CPR maneuvers or any other procedures to wake one's brain back into reality. However, recovery is almost impossible for clinically brain dead victims.
Victims of the Light at the End of the Tunnel have recorded an uptick in surrounding Nyctophobia Delusions, including the disappearance and emergence of various objects and even hallways being rerouted. This is presumably the level's attempt to direct one into the light.
As I began to wake up, I found myself in a daze. My eyes slowly opened, and I found myself laying on a memory foam mattress buried underneath a large cotton blanket. How many hours have I been asleep? I sat up and began to climb out from the bed. The blanket felt endless, and each fold was another layer to pull through. After what felt like hours, I finally saw an opening and slumped down onto the floor. Immediately, I noticed the carpet. It felt as soft and fluffy as a pillow, almost as if it was a bed itself.
I examined the room. The room looked similar to my childhood bedroom. In fact, it was an exact replica of it. The dresser tucked into the rightmost corner, the rickety ceiling fan, the rug at the bottom showing a titular town, it was all intact. The window at the back wall casted a plentiful stream of light into the room. It all gave a cozy feel.
I slowly stood up and approached the room's door, testing it to see if it would open. Just when I grabbed the doorknob, the door swung open automatically, revealing what laid beyond. A hallway with the same resonance of my childhood home, echoing deep in my memories. The hallway continued in the same way it always did; a straight shot followed by a staircase leading to the main floor. Other doors stood sentinel alongside the walls, which I tried to open. The doors remained locked, bolted by a seemingly unbreakable force.
I progressed through the hallway and down the stairs. Instead of the main floor, the bottom of the stairwell housed two hallways leading in differing directions, one leading left, and one leading right. I walked to the end and went left. The next junction was similar, though this time I went right. At the next, I went left, then right, then left, then left again. Many hallways seemed to extend for miles, some for hundreds of miles. Yet it all seemed to pass fluidly, as if the dream world somehow halved time itself.
The labyrinth became more complex deeper in. The former T junctions became four-way intersections, rooms such as kitchens appeared, and stairwells allowed me to access lower and upper floors. Yet at the same time it became disheveled. The carpet slowly turned from feather soft, to matted, to the equivalent of sharp barbs. The cuts drew blood, and soon my movements were all marked by footprints of bloody red. The wallpaper slowly began to peel, the hallway extended itself even further, and numbered doors started appearing on each side of the way.
I knew I was pursuing something, which was what kept me motivated to wander deeper. However, I had no idea what I was pursing. An exit? A sacred memory? Home? I needed to know, even if my feet were bleeding beneath.
The corridors looped back to the initial intersection, now taking on a new feel. My feet were sliced to the point of revealing the pink flesh underneath, and each step felt raw and unforgiving. I climbed the stairs and arrived back at "my room". The room changed along with the rest of the labyrinth. The wallpaper had a few holes in it, as if from a cigarette, and peeled in the corners. The rug and the dresser were nowhere to be found, and the window showcased a deep nebulous black void instead of the light that streamed in before. The bed changed to a simple old mattress on the floor, with no frame and blankets; only a sheet that was as ancient as the mattress itself.
Yet, the bed felt like paradise. I felt as if this was the way out, to dream. Maybe this whole experience was a dream, the light and the labyrinth, and I would wake within my room with an intact foot.
Suddenly, a shrill scream echoed from across the hall, as if someone has just gotten attacked. I instinctively knew who that scream belonged to:
It was Vesper's.
An instinctual urge rose up within me, and the adrenaline came surging back as a wave. Despite the blood loss making me feel dizzy, I traversed back through the hallway and down the stairs yet again, as fast as I could.
I found Vesper at the base of the stairs at the left corner, her feeble body spread out in a position I have never seen before. A puddle of blood rested beneath her, originating from a large gash on her stomach. The puddle expanded quickly, drenching the carpet in a stain of red. As the blood poured, her once olive skin slowly turned a pale white.
I ran over to try to help, bracing for the overarching possibility of her not making it. Before I made it, I stopped. Her body began to glitch in various different colors, increasing in number with each change. Soon after, her body began to melt into pure static, contorting into unnatural positions with each second. The blood around her also began to glitch, becoming static as well.
The static spread fast, consuming everything in its wake. Everywhere the static consumed melted into more static, joining the ever-growing pack. With my path forward now blocked, I ran back towards my room, as fast as my body would lead me.
However, the rapid movement strained my body's capability with nearly half my blood gone. My vision began to gray out and tunnel, and the only thing I could glimpse was my room's door at the end. Halfway through, my legs finally gave out, and I plummeted face-first on the sharp-barb carpet. My face stung from the newfound cuts, but all I could do is focus on the static approaching me, while I was unable to move on my own.
Collecting info on Level 196’s anomalous properties is never a simple task for anyone, not even the most experienced and well-trained individuals like me. In case some of you don’t already know, I was assigned to discovering this level as one of the head members of M.E.G.’s Team Voyager. My goal was to ensure our men stay focused during the operation by providing food, accommodation, and medical supplies to them. As a result, our soldiers always seem coordinated and passionate about the mission. A specific person, however, stood out from the rest.
It was Isaac. He was promoted to a lieutenant after the successful documentation of many previously undiscovered areas. Isaac was a prodigy, one whose qualities could hardly be acquired by anyone else; his eagerness to learn more about many fields made him outshine other candidates during the drafting process. His main weakness? Nyctophobia. He couldn’t stand being in the dark for too long, and it became quite apparent that we shouldn’t let something like that happen ever again.
It was pretty late, and most members were already sleeping after all the eating and drinking they had. My insomnia, however, didn’t allow me to do so. All I did was just stare at the ceiling, hoping communications would resume between us and Base Alpha. Oblivious to me, Isaac had gone outside for unknown reasons. I thought he was just trying to collect supplies, so I took a deep breath and went straight to sleep. While dreaming, I heard his voice. He was trying to ask us about something but to no avail.
The next morning, he was nowhere to be found. Everyone was panicking and trying to find an answer as to where he went. We frantically searched everywhere and eventually found him seemingly sleeping on a carpeted floor. Things ended up badly as we couldn’t feel his heartbeat, and any attempts to wake him up failed. He was taken to the nearest room and immediately placed on medical care. No matter what we did, there was no response. He was gone, and all of us were in denial of that reality…
His funeral was scheduled to be hosted in October. Many people came together to pay respects to the esteemed soldier. It took quite a while for us to get over that loss, frankly. The grief was still left in some, of course, but we will eventually have to move on and focus on our core mission. That is what I hate because senior M.E.G. officials appeared completely apathetic about the situation. I guess they just wanted to use us as a way to enforce their rule on other communities.
Nevertheless, wherever you are, Isaac, just remember:
We miss you dearly and wish you a better time, no matter where you are.
Inspiration: this here article on wayback machine: https://web.archive.org/web/20230528050748/https://backrooms.fandom.com/wiki/Level_106
We might have missed canonthon, but we still cooking peak!
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