Level 400, also known as Level ZH 3, is the 401st level of the Backrooms and the 4th level originally documented in Chinese.
Description
Level 400 is an endless cosmic expanse containing numerous celestial bodies that defy the laws of physics. Some of these celestial objects have been found to host modern structures, with architectural styles consistently reflecting 1980s Euro-American designs from the Frontrooms. Notably, the distances between these celestial bodies are sufficient to cause mutual gravitational tearing, yet this phenomenon has never been observed to occur.
The appearance of these celestial bodies seems to reference their counterparts in the Frontrooms, yet their sizes are significantly smaller than our conventional understanding. Curiously, despite their minimal mass, these celestial objects possess sufficient gravitational force to achieve hydrostatic equilibrium. Additionally, their rigid structural forces precisely counteract gravitational and centrifugal pressures, protecting both wanderers and the urban structures within from being crushed.
The celestial bodies in Level 400 are interconnected by highways that extend from the ground into outer space. Under normal circumstances, traveling from one celestial body to another via these highways may take several months or longer. These celestial objects exhibit no observable rotation or orbital motion, as such movements would inevitably destroy the connecting roadways due to mechanical stresses. Equally perplexing is the anomalous suspension of these cosmic highways, which remain structurally intact without any visible supports or reinforcements, sparking significant controversy regarding their engineering feasibility.
Within the chaotic environment of Level 400, the probability of encountering another wanderer remains relatively low. The urban structures within the level show no signs of abandonment; goods neatly arranged in stores and unlocked doors all silently testify to the abrupt disappearance of their inhabitants. Remarkably, most utilities in these cities—including lighting systems, water dispensers, and other infrastructure—remain fully operational. This functionality implicitly acknowledges the feasibility of sustained habitation within this level, despite its otherwise unsettling and enigmatic nature.
The vehicles within this level are exclusively unmanned, vintage automobiles characterized by their peculiar sense of purpose. Most exhibit behaviors indistinguishable from human-driven counterparts—such as autonomously refueling at gas stations[1], parking in designated lots, or idling along roadsides—all of which underscore their inherent anomalies. Paradoxically, despite fuel tank capacities theoretically insufficient for inter-celestial travel, these vehicles anomalously continue operating on highways for months without replenishment[2].
The architectural remnants within Level 400 strongly indicate prolonged habitation by lifeforms, extending beyond mere replication of pre-existing Frontrooms structures. During exploratory expeditions, cities were discovered with evidence of deliberate structural rehabilitation—such as meticulously arranged merchandise in stores and curated interior decorations within residential buildings. These phenomena have been tentatively attributed to the level's anomalous properties or potential paranormal agency, though comprehensive explanations remain pending further investigation.
Residential buildings within this level are frequently reported to emit unexplained phenomena such as footsteps or anomalous auditory disturbances. Additionally, numerous wanderers have claimed to observe crowds of Facelings figures through reflections in street-side glass surfaces. These accounts remain unverified as of current documentation, with the phenomena categorized as unsubstantiated rumors pending further corroborative evidence.
Anomalously, all recorded information within Level 400 manifests progressive distortion, including in-floor photographs and textual materials[3]. This anomalous degradation actively affects both photographs captured within the level and externally imported visual media, systematically blurring their content over time. Severe cases exhibit accelerated material decay patterns—manifesting as fungal-like corrosion, fragmentation, or the emergence of obliterated features reminiscent of long-abandoned artifacts.
Mental Hazards
The most severe mental hazard within Level 400 stems from the colossal celestial bodies omnipresent in the sky. When wanderers gaze at these celestial objects, they typically experience hallucinations that intensify with prolonged observation. These hallucinations often involve themes of interstellar exploration or visions of the future, triggering an overwhelming compulsion in wanderers. Many have consequently embarked on journeys from the highways into space, never to return.
As wanderers extend their stay in Level 400, the oppressive sensation induced by the celestial bodies escalates [4], most wanderers who linger too long in this level ultimately succumb to cardiac arrest caused by tachycardia, [5].
Addendums
As I strolled along the street beneath the starry sea, something hidden deep within the city and the world behind it quietly revealed itself. I never imagined I would one day gaze so closely at the planets of the solar system, hanging suspended in the sky. This was no imitation or replication—the Backrooms understood this era profoundly, down to the finest detail. The nostalgia embedded within it seemed to recall a golden age I had once glimpsed, imagined, but could never return to.
In a daze, I wandered into the city. Every inch of this place felt unfamiliar, yet eerily familiar. Shadows lengthened as I moved away from the streetlights, until I stepped into darkness and sat on a bench by the roadside. Staring at the sky, I was reminded of past nights, but here the view was sharper, more surreal. Enormous celestial bodies drifted across my field of vision.
I don’t know how long I sat there. When I rose to walk further, I reached the edge of the road. The pavement stretched from the ground into the sky, then onward to a distant celestial body beyond reach. Faintly, I could see the road continuing beyond that star, but where it led remained unknowable.
The city’s skyline now sprawled before me, its bright lights gleaming like beacons of hope. Yet behind this facade lurked the false Backrooms and their traps. A visceral urge to flee overtook me. I boarded a car and drove skyward.
The city was burning. Through the periphery of my vision, I glimpsed another celestial body drawing closer. Perhaps someone had set the flames. The collision of planets no longer concerned me.
In the end, the city I half-recognized lay charred and ruined. The star approached at terrifying speed—soon, they would collide. As I watched the inferno, I couldn’t tell whether the flames consumed my present or a time I had never known.
In this strange expanse of space, the sounds around me dwindled. First came the cacophony of violent impacts, then the rumble of car engines, until only my own voice remained.
Beneath the dreamlike veneer, grotesque and alien scenes sharpened into focus. Framed by the car window as a screen, the vehicle’s endless loop across the stellar rings played like a film. I stared at this meaningless cycle until everything faded to darkness.
An overwhelming stillness filled every corner of space, the cosmic vista left me awestruck. Behind me, pristine celestial bodies hung untouched, while the car ahead continued its endless journey along the highway. I slid a cassette into the player.
It was a surreal sensation, as if time itself had paused. I lost track of how long I drove until a planet—both familiar and alien—loomed into view. Its crimson landmass flickered intermittently to green, as though correcting itself. Only then did I notice: the tape wasn’t playing music. Instead, it emitted a faint, mechanical hum, as if muffling a voice struggling to break through.
Suddenly, the car swerved off the road’s edge. For a heartbeat, we plummeted—only to land on an invisible path now aimed directly at the planet.
The relentless torrent of time spares nothing. I wondered what remnants of this moment would endure. Those bound to time are swept forward by its current, while moments left behind fossilize into fragments of "recordings." I call them this because every recorded fragment preserves its era perfectly, ferrying it intact into the future.
Yet this expanse of space defied such logic. It was unrecordable, indescribable. The void’s emptiness, paradoxically, felt less suffocating than I’d imagined.
Rolling down the window, I glimpsed the true planet behind the celestial mirage. A surge of nostalgia—for both the past and ideas unborn—overwhelmed me.
In the final seconds, the radio’s garbled noise resolved into clarity. What I heard wasn’t music. I ejected the tape and held it in my palm.
Etched into its magnetic coils were the radiant fantasies of the 1980s—dreams of futures never realized. Beneath them lay frozen time and humanity’s collective yearning for a world forever in motion, yet always just out of reach.
Colonies and Outposts
All known colonies and outposts have been destroyed; establishing colonies and outposts within this level has been proven unfeasible.
Entities
No entities have been officially documented within this level, though numerous anomalous phenomena suggest the potential existence of unconfirmed entities.
Entrances and Exits
Entrances
- In Level 6, there is an extremely low probability of finding a car wreckage, noclipping into the vehicle will lead to this level.
- Access this level by entering a vintage sedan which should never appear in the parking lots of Level 1.
- Entering a chrome-plated door in Level 2 will lead one here.
Exits
- Underground ventilation pipes leads to Level 2.
- Falling into cosmic space will often bring one to Level 85.
- Getting lost in an office building within the city frequently transports wanderers to Level 4.
- Noclipping into a street lamp might lead to Level 6, with there's also a chance to get to Level 49.
Footnotes
- ↑ The origin of fuel in these stations remains unknown.
- ↑ A documented case involved a wanderer attempting to traverse between celestial bodies; only their desiccated corpse arrived, suggesting fatal resource depletion during the journey.
- ↑ A subset of these images have been partially clarified, predominantly depicting Facelings engaged in mundane activities.
- ↑ This manifests as an acute fear of shadows—whether cast by the celestial bodies or towering structures.
- ↑ Though complications from respiratory distress may also contribute to fatalities.
