““He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.”
— Beyond Good and Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future, Friedrich Nietzsche
““He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.”
— Beyond Good and Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future, Friedrich Nietzsche
7
THREAT INDEX
Class 3
Exit: 4/5
Very Difficult to Exit
Environment: 4/5
High Environmental Risk
Entities: 1/5
Singular Entity Presence
Description
Level 7 consists of a confined metal bunker floating atop an endless, foggy expanse of ultrapure water. Despite its apparent lack of anchoring, the structure remains stationary, with its position constant regardless of the surrounding water’s conditions. Although the chamber functions as the primary point of entry into Level 7, several accounts report entering the level’s waters directly by boat. The level’s bleak atmosphere is largely unchanging, with its thick, dense fog hanging below a perpetually overcast sky.
The dark, rusted interior of the vessel contains scattered, decrepit furniture, such as metal bunkbeds, folding chairs, and makeshift bookshelves.[1] Without adequate protection, the frigid, knee-deep water inundating the bunker may lead to hypothermia after an extended period of time, hastened by the level’s constant, near-freezing temperature of 4°C. A rickety staircase serves as an exit from the chamber, above which lay a metal hatch providing access to the surface of Level 7.
The ocean of Level 7 appears largely motionless, exhibiting minimal wave activity.[2] The seabed in the general vicinity of the bunker is relatively shallow, measuring only a few meters deep. However, venturing further out has revealed a sudden drop-off, with the seabed instantly descending to an unknown depth in a sheer vertical drop. Explorations of the level's ocean proper have netted little information in the way of its topography, but have led to the discovery of its only known entity, dubbed The Thing on Level 7. Wave activity within the level is primarily limited to disturbances generated by the movement of this being. The haze that permeates the air is composed of microscopic bone fragments and organic residue, byproducts of the entity’s biological processes. They consist of discarded calcium, keratin, and other undigested remnants that are expelled into the air rather than settling into the water. Unlike conventional water vapor, it remains suspended indefinitely, dispersing only when physically disturbed. Given enough time in the level, its chalky residue will accumulate on surfaces such as skin, which may result in respiratory irritation if breathed in directly.[3]
Anomalies
Pip Complex, also referred to as Pippin Syndrome or Jonah’s Fate, is an anomaly proposed to cause spatial hallucinations frequently reported by Level 7 seafarers. Affected wanderers often report glimpses of distant, unreachable boats, as though the water subtly pulls them backward despite the absence of currents. The condition is named after Pip in Moby-Dick and Jonah in the Old Testament — figures who underwent transformation through isolation and madness. Unlike them, however, those afflicted by the phenomenon tend to stray too far into the level and ultimately vanish without a trace.
Microscopic analysis of the airborne dust has revealed no neuroactive compounds — only reduced particle size and unusually low density. Some researchers instead propose that the condition may be triggered by prolonged exposure to the water itself.
In certain regions, Level 7’s water exhibits nonstandard gravitational orientations. The gravitational axis may deviate from the typical downward pull, causing water to adhere laterally or even invert. This results in massive, surreal formations such as vertical waves or overhead oceanic planes — creating the illusion of a mirrored sea suspended above. Objects interact with the water according to its local gravity field: a boat may float sideways, rather than sink. For this reason, consumption of the water is dangerous outside regions where gravity aligns with the body’s internal orientation. Once ingested, the liquid adheres to the esophageal lining based on its own gravitational logic. In excessive amounts, it may flood the respiratory system, resulting in fatal asphyxiation — essentially drowning the victim from the inside out.
Beyond physiological risks, the outer regions of Level 7 exhibit increasingly unstable spatial behavior at greater depths. Instead of fading into uniform darkness, light fragments into chaotic, glitch-like patterns — microscopic voids and angular, triangular luminescent structures that intersect unpredictably. These anomalies are most prominent in zones where conflicting gravitational forces interact, often nearer to the surface in deeper areas. Disorientation is common, and drowning incidents are frequent.
Nevertheless, the water’s ultrapurity enhances buoyancy, allowing for more efficient swimming and movement. While near-surface navigation remains relatively manageable, wanderers must remain cautious of The Thing on Level 7 — the level’s sole entity. Due to its immense size, however, its ability to pursue quickly or enter narrow spaces may be limited.
The Thing on Level 7
ㅤ⤳ The Thing on Level 7
The Thing on Level 7, more commonly referred to as The Thing, is a colossal sea creature of unknown size that inhabits the level and serves as its primary threat. Neither its head nor its tail has been observed, although wave disturbances and movement patterns suggest both exist. Despite its immense scale, The Thing does not appear to influence the level’s gravitational anomalies — rather, it has adapted to them.
Variations in local currents, shaped by intersecting gravitational vectors, influence its morphology. Organs may form in atypical locations or become displaced entirely, with misplaced fins and gills that appear nonfunctional, and some organs seem stacked upon one another. Interestingly, these same intersecting gravitational zones may offer a theoretical exit from Level 7. In rare cases, converging currents accelerate exponentially, potentially even beyond the speed of light, ejecting matter into other levels. However, these exit points are believed to exist only in the deepest parts of the ocean, where survival and transporting provisions are difficult.
Since its discovery, The Thing has ironically become a rich source of protein. Its flesh can be extracted with minimal effort, as it lacks any known defenses, possibly due to the ultrapure environment and absence of natural predators. Its skin is coated in fine white dust, compositionally similar to the calcium-rich fog and seabed of Level 7. Beneath this coating, the flesh is greasy and fat-rich with a slimy consistency. It contains dormant parasites that remain inert under standard conditions but become active when exposed to heat — particularly during cooking. As a result, raw consumption is safest, despite the intensely sulfurous flavor and texture resembling rotten eggs. While high in protein, the meat spoils quickly. Refrigeration below 4°C slows decomposition, but freezing remains the most effective preservation method.
No folly of man had been greater than his arrogance to conquer it all, even God, even an infinite, empty ocean. And yet he finds a way to surpass it.
Jacob, God bless him, Jude A., who had never gotten to church and was probably the smoke blowing the candles lit up during mass, and Pippin, who established himself as nothing more than a wise, old man in a bar in Manhattan Island now consumed by the sea and a beautiful, green park hiding his old skin on his chin with its thousands of green beards made of overlapping foliage and concrete jungle. But one thing they share was their dreams never grasped the concept of omnipresence, as if their hearts were connected by aortas wrapped in intertwined exoskeletons and nothing could ever get through them, not even the reality warps they were looking for in the boat they made, about today years old, which they call Ishmael, crumbling like every cavity and pocket of air inside its bones had been vehemently sandpapered for as long as the waves stretched. The dust jackets of the books filled in the holes, a necessity born from the scarcity of planks and iron nails they had brought, and if one more man was aboard, a Judas Iscariot, the whole thing might collapse, sinking to become one with the seabed of hellish white dust and a creature of billions of scales. I think there’s something out there.
But all else other than that ship, the weather was relatively calm today: the sky foggy as ever, the water disturbed only by the boat’s rocking, and the only sound echoing through this ocean — encased in a sphere of ever-present light — was the rhythmic crash of water droplets clinging to the boat’s molding hull, like crashing heartbeats, or was it? Even tiny waves the size of a musket’s tip caught the attention of those three “musketeers.” There were no gargantuan sea creatures out to get you… just yet. It was a fisherman’s dream times infinity, yes! but Jacob was restless, so because of that, God blessed him and made him fair, he thought that he must wake everyone up and clear of everyone’s dreams. “Don’t dream much, ‘kay?” he shouted and even the water got rocking and rocking and alerting The Thing with its tiny ripples, was he trying to attract it for its flesh? maybe, there was someone on the boat which would, but the shout was so loud it might have scared it away and the rocking and rocking became much more than a rock, but now hills, and the boat was sliding up and down hillsides. It took a long time for Jacob to think of what to say, thinking he was Jakob Böhme, to try to piss the shit out of them, saying, “Ya wanna feed these monsters, then go lay down behind that barrel right over there. Ya feed it when you dream about finding The Thing y’all were yapping about.”
"Just so you wait." Pippin took one of the empty soda cans and threw it underwater, his arms almost dislocated from the force of the throw, the soda, O shining soda, O green dot. But it will disappear eventually, he thought, but, O, did it not disappear, and so it merely stayed. The seabed was still within reach. I pretty think there’s something there.
The wise man was now a wisecrack: Jacob and Jude A., the so-called “non-of-the-wise crackheads,” were the ones fast-thinking enough to save the man, but Jude A.’s legs stopped midway when Pippin’s forehead bled, forming a solid waterfall, trickling down the skin with forests of lonely white hairs, and he looked back, a trail of white trails on the ocean from the light reflecting off the clear water, following the boat, as the silent engine shook it, and he got it from there, that the machine was silent and made of smooth metal, and what else was metal? the knives could be, but that was still too far-fetched… for now.
Jacob ripped his moldy clothes off. The Big Scream of Nothing, dated 2104 — an important event? no, but it deterred Jacob from focusing on other things, like how the engine was silent, how is that? maybe it had been turned off, or the oil they used to deep fry the Thing’s flesh was too much, they sprinkled it with the sweet-and-sour Sprite to sog it up again, useless, hysterical, Jacob thought, and the mold wrapped the gash on Pippin’s forehead like some sort of mutual relationship between lichens and trees, but the tree was dead and the lichen had not realized its fate yet, and the lichens! O the lichens! They look just like the leave veins left from their previous skirmish in Level -13, with saltwater, and they missed the taste of saltwater, especially Pippin, and he took a dive into the water, to vomit out the Sprite, get the things out, get the things out. Jude A., get the pan!
But Jude A. looked at Pippin and saw a pathetic man, less than man, equal to rabid entities, eating all the Sprite supplies, although it was useless, hysterical, and all that, and all that he knew was it did not matter what he did, but it mattered what he did not do: the curse of man bestowed upon him, to every single living soul of the Backrooms, that inaction is total absence as if you were not there, and that your name would be one with the seabed of bone-dust, and that your body will turn into bone-fog. It was clear now. I think there’s something there.
Jacob turned toward the other boat’s side to fetch the barrel and unearthed many more barrels underneath the floorboards, and he finally took a look at Jude A. when his thoughts wandered about the motivation behind his fetching of the barrel, was it for the old man, really? the same one he had insulted for his dementia, he had forgotten, was it for himself? Selfishness! O selfishness! It would get you drowned in these waters, like that Sprite over there! And so he opened the barrel, imagining in his mind, moving his arms through the windless air despite the open air, it felt hollow, almost, and hollow it was, empty, the air was as hollow as the barrel, only a couple of Almond Water bottles dropped out and they jumped into the ocean, furthermore making water, drinkable water, one less pure but more useful, less and less accessible, as its shadow trickles down the water and the seabed did not end and the dot was not anywhere to be seen. Ah, damn it, God!
“Where’s the Almond Water, Judy Jude? Hold on…” he said with a tone almost like he was talking to his daughter who had murdered and stabbed their goldfish by throwing gnawed Sprite cans with metal thorns twisting around, cut in half, like a cracked egg, now with the I-was-saving-the fish-from-drowning, senseless defense, Jacob filling his mind on how to repay Jude back, but it was as hollow was the barrel, and he wished his rage was non-hollow enough to actually do it.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Yeah?”
“Confused for what, you…?” His words scrambled more than the water. Imagine that.
“What?” Jacob was mad but questioned himself whether he even was; Jude A. stood there with thin eyebrows now thick ‘cause he overlapped his skin so much frowning, now he hid his true intentions: But true? really? anythin’ even true in these places? Indeed, yes, now the Almond Water been cleared, the blinders of society in the Backrooms, finally seen enough, but really not — a mere castaway of memories told by the cactus-like heart.
Jacob poured himself like water, cascading and jumping like a worm to avoid Jude A.’s stance, attacking almost as Pippin recognized as dueling, socialite-ly formal but with animalistic intentions, and he ran onto the other side of the boat where you could see more than just the horizon, to maybe swim away.
“I see something… I see something…” whispered Pippin as Jacob lowers himself down, the seabed extending beyond the infinite, remember infinity is boring, but their previous thought of overcoming infinity had vanished and became nothing but a mere bore, now Jacob was afraid, Judy Jude was not so much of a wimpy sissy, now a former brother-bro, or was he never even because he stole all that Almond water? Limbs trembling not from hypothermia but from the thought of it.
I saw something, thought Jacob. His eyes could not be trusted any more than Jude A. A dead body. Flesh swimming like worms. Parasites! were those the Thing’s flesh, yet another way to feed into the blind heart of Jude A.? He repeated Jude A.’s name. Judy Jude. Judy Jude. He repeated it more and more. Judy-a-Jude. Judy-a-Jude. Judea… shit! The flesh moves. The flesh moves. Slender black body, a hole punched into it, a ring of exposed viscera, a lot of tar. Rubbery skin, like the armor of the most useless knight. Exoskeleton-shaped mask. It was a surreal painting in real life, of a divine figure, until you look at it for too long and drop down and cry.
Jacob’s face, wet, could have cried. The flesh of another being. He could feed it to Judy-a-Jude… shit, oh God, oh, God damn it, he has a knife! Blood and mold and wood and dirt and sweat all over his body, staining his suit. Pippin fell into a deep slumber of infinite length, but no dreams, for it was only black, and only the stillness could carry him. The thick blood drooped, then fell onto Judy-a-Jude’s bare feet, unexposed, like himself, and the old blood of Pippin was just like the slender black body’s, completely inhumane, stripped of humanity, despite previously having sentient minds and hearts and connecting aortas. Judy-a-Jude… shit, man, you don’t gotta do this. Judy-a-Jude… sssssss… Judas…
Entrances and Exits
Level 7 is often considered a major roadblock when progressing further into other levels, as most exits lie within the mortal seabed.
Entrances
- Roaming Level 6 long enough may cause the level to transition to Level 7’s bunker. This is the most common way to enter Level 7. Wanderers using this entrance should only venture out to the ocean at nighttime to avoid temporary blindness and sensory shock due to prolonged exposure to darkness.
- Entering a trapdoor in one of the marked rooms when crashing waves can be heard in Level 5.1.
- Crawling through tunnels upward in Level 6.66.
- Swimming toward the bottom of pools of perfluorocarbon liquid more than 3 meters deep in Level 8.5.
- Wandering through a flooded corridor for prolonged periods in Level 17.
- Drinking Level 45’s Neon Water, experiencing its effects, and then surviving it, will cause one to wake up in Level 7.
- Diving into an unnaturally deep pool in Level 85.1.
- Getting to the top of Level 88’s tank brings one here.
- Consuming the water in Level 117, sometimes; or, laying in the grass next to the road.
- No-clipping into a body of water in Level 200.
- In Level 221, expansive pools may lead here.
- Diving deep into Level 246 may cause the level to fade into Level 7.
- Setting off to Level 248’s ocean.
- Drowning in the river of Level 271’s 4th sublevel.
- No-clipping through one of Level 280’s aquariums.
- Strong currents in Level 512’s The Abyssal Lumina transport one here.
- Going into the Cook Landing Site in Level 594’s alternate Hawaii.
- Jumping into an out-of-place lake in Level 700.
- Swimming to the surface of Level 967.
- Entering a body of water with a device, presumably a battery-powered one, in Level 998.
- Swimming around a mile upstream the River of Level -13.
- Getting trapped at a confluence point submerged in water in Level -37.
- Falling through water on bathroom floors in Level -404.
- No-clipping through a body of water in The Limitless Mulch.
Exits
- In the outer regions, swimming kilometers deep into the depths may transport one into several levels, which are all listed here:
- Level 4 (through a floating door labeled “No Exit”),
- Level Tau (through a floating, rusty car),
- Level 7.1 (when one feels the sensation that something has touched their foot without the presence of the Thing),
- Level 7.5 (through a fake “seabed”)
- Level 7.7 (when a blinding light can be seen from above),
- Level 8,
- Level 8.2,
- Level 13,
- Level 37,
- Level 38 (through an area with orange fog)
- Level 38.1,
- Level 41,
- Level 49 (through a floating, full-scale replica of a hospital),
- Level 87,
- Level 128 (through a floating, pink-colored natural arch),
- Level 147,
- Level 351 (when one passes out),
- Level 512 (through a faint, blue light),
- Level 833 (through a floating, modernist house surrounded by kayaks),
- Level -7 (through a floating house), and
- Level -511.
❬ References ❭
- ↑ Upon examination, the shelves do not contain actual books, but rather solid, featureless blocks of paper encased within dust jackets.
- ↑ The absence of tides is likely due to the lack of an orbiting satellite or atmospheric wind.
- ↑ Additionally, reports suggest that these bone particles cause further damage to the human body. Wanderers who remain in Level 7 for extended periods, mostly for a few days to a week, often experience hallucinations, likely due to excessive inhalation of airborne particulates.
- First background image (Pixabay Content License), edited by me: "Fog Mist Scary Black" by merdanata.
- Second background image (Unsplash’s Content License), edited by me: "black boat on body of water" by Jack R.
- First header image (CC BY-SA 2.0): "Búnker de telemetría" by Contando Estrelas.
- First main image (Unsplash’s Content License), edited by me: "body of water under cloud" by Kupono Kuwamura.
- Second header image (CC BY 2.0), edited by me: "sea, water, horizon, light, fog, mist, boat..." by maxime raynal.
- Second main image (CC BY 2.0), edited by me: "Jeff Rowley Big Wave Surfer Jaws Peahi..." by Jeff Rowley.
- Third header image (CC BY-SA 4.0), edited by me: "Tin cup with water" by JIP.
- Third main image (Pixabay Content License), edited by me: "River, Red, Color" by Idarrel.
- Fourth header image (Unsplash’s Content License), edited by me: "grey yacht fence" by Jules Thomas.
- Fifth header image (CC BY-SA 4.0): "Reflections in the water 10" by BogTar201213.
- Fourth main image (CC BY 3.0 and CC0 / Public Domain, respectively), both edited by me: "Fata Morgana of sun glitter" and "Public Domain Glitch Art Again (1920x1200)" by Brocken Inaglory and I G, respectively.
| Canons | Winter's Butterfly |
|---|---|
| Levels | Megalophobia │ A Child's Abnormality │ White Torture │ Roads to Abyss │ Haphazard Remnants │ Saturation │ Terror Basins │ Innocent Ball Pit │ Day Zero │ Vitrum Madness │ The Last Snow │ The Unit │ Antiquated Perpetuity │ Indigence │ Niagara of Iron(ic) Fists: The Contra-Pulp Fiction Theme, Vol. I & Vol. II │ Ain't All Blood Red │ Pipe Dreams │ The Worm in the Fruit │ Vienesse Sunday │ Old Mister Staircase │ Thalassophobia │ Toko Kelontong
|
| Entities | Mandela Disease │ The Death Locomotive │ Rainbows │ Count the Stars! │ The Thing on Level 7 |
| Tales | The Temporal Yellow │ The Ladybug Heart of a Génocidaire |
| Joke | Em Dash Island │ Meggies |