The Station UVB-967 is a radar facility submerged in the dark, foreshadowing oceanic depths that have largely been forgotten. The actual access to this level is rather erratic, tending to manifest in damp rooms or beside puddles seeming to shine unnaturally. Entry feels much like being dragged downward through layers of icy water, only to emerge in the dimly lit, decaying halls of the station. There is immediate pressure, a feeling of extreme crushing due to the weight of the water without that presses in toward them from all sides in a continuum of fear and claustrophobia.
The structure itself appears huge, with long, curved corridors repeated and altered. The walls are highly corroded, replete with algae, rust, and strange mineral deposits emitting a faint bioluminescence that casts dancing colors of green and blue across the surfaces. Every corridor opens into rooms that range from control centers with rusted-out monitors and terminals to storage rooms with overturned crates, dampened papers, and forgotten supplies. The floors are also uneven in many places, with deep puddles or completely flooded areas with water to wade-or even swim-through murk so thick visibility is near zero.
Level 967 is a place of oppression, where the silence in the corridors is disturbed only by the faint sounds of creaking metal and the humming of malfunctioned machinery. The air reeks of rust and salt, while dim and flickering lights barely light the decaying hallways. Weird markings and deep scratches deface the walls at places, as if something, or somebody, was trying to claw its way through. These further reinforce the feeling that this forgotten radar station is not as abandoned as it seems.
In larger chambers, pieces of giant radar equipment silently hang in thick, slimy algae and are tangled in rusted wires. Other rooms boast shattered glass observation panels staring out into a seeming endless, pitch-black void-ocean beyond-or something even more alien. There is a soft hum of static in the air, with the silence every now and then cut by distorted voices, garbled numbers, and old radar pings that echo from unseen loudspeakers, as if parts of the station are trying to communicate or are still operational.
The air inside the station is cold and damp, heavy with the metallic tang of rust and salt. It is hard to breathe here; there is a steady, faint dripping sound, plus the groaning and creaking of the metal structure under pressure. Parts of the station apparently are in a state of flux, with corridors that appear and vanish depending on one's location. Explorers from time to time have found doors sealed with odd symbols and warning labels; none have succeeded in opening them. The most famous is on the dry section and i believed to say called "TRAIN".
In the control one log has been found.
LOG OB-421
"Hello this is Backison Rooms i have been here for... what feels like forever but something happened i dont know what but i have been coughing a lot like a lot a lot breathing is harder i am most sick."
I'm getting more sick day by day may no last much longer
Thats all farewell
The Outer Section[]
The Old Radar, Level 967, for the most part, consists of an outer area: an underwater expanse of haunted, giant-sized, rusted radar dishes that turn with slow, low-emitting pulses into the murky depths. Dim lights struggle to illuminate the structure, showing barnacle-covered metal and pipes tangled in seaweed. Strange shadows move beyond the grasp of radar, hinting that something lurks within the deep, while in the silent water, the sound of far-away metallic groans and creaking rises, amplifying the eerie isolation of this forgotten submerged station.
The Control room[]
The control is small and damp, bathed by a ghostly blue-green light from the ocean surrounding it. Rusted metal walls creak, faint currents pressing against the structure; shards of glass on the floor everywhere make the air thick with the metallic tang and faint scents of algae. The irregular flickering of the rows of old dials, levers with corrosion, and monitors with cracks cast distorted sonar blips across the dark screens, as if they were tracking something enormous lurking outside. Seaweed and barnacles stick to consoles, while water falls from above onto the floor, gathering in murky puddles. A world map, decaying and with pins marking some places, hangs on the wall. An old intercom crackles to life with ghostly, indecipherable voices. The room is abandoned, creepy, and feels like it's stuck in some sort of long-forgotten past; it's barely holding together, groaning under the pressure from the surrounding depths.
The Dry Section[]
Where Level 967 was an entirely flooded, decaying level, the Dry Section above is less affected by water damage and decay. It is still somewhat eerie and claustrophobic, but the environment is notably more stable and less hazardous than that in the lower sections with higher water saturation. The air is full of floating dust, and a stale ventilation system has left this section feeling abandoned, untouched for decades. This is the only habitable section.
Hydrolitis Plague:[]
The Hydrolitis Plague is always there, omnipresent in the moist and rotting tiers of 967, but most predominantly in the outermost sections and control room. This is an infection created by a type of bacteria that likes pools of stagnant seawater to thrive in, or any moist surface for that matter, which is everywhere in the station, creating hazardous areas painted by its thin, bluish-green sheen of biofilm on the walls, on the floor, and even equipment. This bacterial by-product serves as an indication of naturally high-risk infection areas, and a faint, musty smell warns the seasoned explorer of its presence.
Entering these zones without protection means practically entering a zone of infection, considering the mode of distribution in water droplets and direct contact with surfaces. Due to the initial airborne nature of the virus, even just breathing is dangerous in such an area, infecting every explorer who stays too long, unaware of the reach of the plague.
Mercys[]
Where the Mercy lurks in silence, waiting in the shadowed corners and dim corridors of the abandoned radar station, was both eerie and deceptively comforting. These were towering mosquito-like creatures, with their skull-like heads and bat-like wings, which could sap a wanderer's will to resist through their touch to offer a strangely peaceful yet final fate to those already weakened by the station's many hazards. While this sometimes makes them protective of the strong, they remain predators by using cunning ambushes and preying on whoever dares to come closer than they should.
Pool Guards[]
Entity 41 inhabit the murky waters that flood large corridors and rooms within the abandoned radar station in flooded parts of Level 967. Large, jellyfish-like entities boast translucent dome-shaped heads with long whip-like tentacles, which they use to ambush and incapacitate intruders. The water-filled areas are their turf, and they always stay submerged beneath the water's surface, waiting for anyone who dares to come near. Being the Pool Guardians, they attack instantly the moment they have been disturbed and immediately pull their prey down into the depths where it is almost impossible to get out of. They make those portions of the level really hazardous to travel through.
Entrances[]
- Go too deep in water levels will take you to the outer sections
- No-clipping in a level may take you to a random places here
- Swimming in the waters of Level 100 and then diving deep can lead here.
- In any level randomly if you have access to a Radio a SOS call will play once over you black out and wake up here
Exits[]
- No-clipping in the control room leads to Level 968, this is the main exit.
- 2 fire doors are looted on the dry section Level 988
- Swimming to the surface will take you to Level 7
- Turing the radars frequency to a certain one will lead you to The level you where last in
Writer: Man of rocks
Wikitext & CSS: Frenchling
Thanks to Cendimix for creating the "Aqua" CSS.