Registered Phenomena Code: 051

Object Class: Gamma-Red

Hazard Types: Temporal Hazard, Geological Hazard, Sapient Hazard, Sentient Hazard, Ballistic Hazard

Containment Protocols: RPC-051 is to be lured around unpopulated areas of Belgium indefinitely, directed via flying 2 Fokker Eindecker monoplanes overhead in a configuration that will cause RPC-051 to move away in a closed, predictable patern. The path that RPC-051 takes away from the planes is unpredictable, but best efforts will be made to direct RPC-051 away from any populated areas.

Description: RPC-051 is the incorporeal manifestation of an unidentified male wearing clothes distinctive of Canadian forces during the first World War. Located in what was formerly the 1916 battlefield of Saint-Eloi, Belgium. Observations of RPC-051 and interactions with it reveal no direct link to any known enlisted soldier, however there are still potential leads being investigated. The age of the subject is estimated to be 20-25 years old, and displays no indication of aging. The material that composes RPC-051 is a translucent gray-blue ethereal matter, and manifests in the form of a 1902 pattern service dress, consistent with the uniforms worn by Canadian soldiers in WW1. The lower half of RPC-051's body starting from halfway down the thighs sharply fades away to being invisible, however the displacement of the mud with each footstep is still easily seen. RPC-051 carries a Ross rifle consistent with the armament issued to Canadian WW1 soldiers.

RPC-051 carries RPC-051-1, a similar apparition in the same uniform that appears to be unconscious. Its right hand has been blown off, and it shows numerous gunshot wounds across the abdomen and neck. Judging by the similarity in facial structure, RPC-051 and RPC-051-1 are close relatives.

RPC-051's cone of vision as well as a 6-meter radius around it, hereby referred to as RPC-051-C, are affected by a temporal and geological anomaly; the topology of areas affected by RPC-051-C appears to temporally regress approximately 105 years,1 and returns to contemporary topology once this cone of influence is directed elsewhere. As such, everywhere RPC-051 looks it perceives itself as being in The Battle of St. Eloi Craters. This extends even to regions where the war did not take place.

RPC-051-C manifests a constant bombardment of shells, indiscriminate gunfire from all directions, and the sounds of planes flying overhead. The landscape of RPC-051-C is muddy, infertile, and abused, consistently appearing as "no man's land." Subjects who are within RPC-051-C do not have their own physical structure affected by the temporal anomaly, but are nevertheless extremely vulnerable to the constant bombardment. In contrast, neither RPC-051 nor RPC-051-1 sustain damage to any of the gunfire or artillery.

RPC-051 appears to be in a consistent emotional state of mourning for RPC-051-1's condition.

The apparition is wholly ignorant of the passage of time and that it is affected by this anomaly, and truly believes it is a soldier in WW1, despite currently being in a quiet plain of grass 105 years after the war. RPC-051 trudges indefinitely and in seemingly random directions,2 attempting to abandon the war and bring RPC-051-1 with him. There is no linear distance that RPC-051 has walked in which the war-torn landscape it perceives ends, or even begins to end. As such, RPC-051 is indefinitely stuck with no clear indication that it will meet its desired location. Despite this, RPC-051 continues to trudge.

On 06/12/1996, an interview was to be attempted to obtain more knowledge on RPC-051.

Interviewed: RPC-051
Interviewer: CSD-12842/Dr. Mice
Foreword: CSD-12842, selected for serving in the ███████ War of ████, is to be provided a 1902 pattern service dress, a (non-functioning) Ross rifle, a discrete head-mounted camera, and an auditory radio transponder and microphone. Dr. Mice via earpiece will communicate with RPC-051 through CSD-12842, referred to as "CSD." CSD is instructed to make contact with RPC-051.

<Begin Log>

CSD makes his way toward RPC-051's location, and is instructed to act as if he is currently enlisted.

CSD approaches RPC-051. At this point, he has entered RPC-051-C and is grazed by a bullet. CSD keeps his head under a mound. Considering RPC-051-C, both parties are screaming.

CSD: Hey!

RPC-051 notices CSD's presence and stops marching. Its head pries its eyes away from something not visible in the distance and looks at CSD.

RPC-051: Go fuck yourselves if you think I'm going back to the trenches. I don't care how many of you poor sonsabitches they send out. There's a better way to die out here than trying to convince a soldier to go back.

CSD: I just wanted to- Ask some questions myself, you've…- You've inspired me to abandon the war too.3

Several bullets whizz through RPC-051.

RPC-051: I'm no role model, son.

RPC-051 gestures to RPC-051-1. RPC-051 grimaces in a sorrowful expression.

CSD: Is that your brother?

RPC-051 smiles bitterly. It tears up.

RPC-051: Him and I are that much alike, huh?

CSD: How did you get to this point?

RPC-051: We were doing our thing and a fuckin Fritz shot him through the neck. I had enough bullshit at that point and now I'm here.

CSD: Where are you going with him?

RPC-051: Away from this place. I won't rest until I bury my brother in a rich grassy field. I don't care how long it takes to get there, I cant even feel my legs anymore.

CSD: How did you get to this… form? Are you dead?

There is a pause.

RPC-051: What in the Sam Hill are you talking about? Dead men don't need to abandon wars.

CSD: Those bullets are going right through you. The lower-half of your body doesn't even exist. You've been out here for 80 years.

RPC-051 looks at the CSD with a puzzled expression.

RPC-051: Are you doped up on morphine or do you think it's funny to make fun of a man carrying his dead brother in his arms? I left my binding to the law back in those trenches, I'll gouge your fuckin' eyes out right here right now-

CSD: Wait, wait- I must be high, man. I'm sorry- I'm just not seeing straight out here.

RPC-051 stares at the CSD in deep consideration.

RPC-051: … It's alright. It happens a lot in this hellhole. Can I tell you something?

CSD: Sure.

At this point, an artillery shell explodes 70 meters from RPC-051 and the CSD. CSD is sufficiently shielded under the mound but large quantities of shrapnel pass through RPC-051.

RPC-051: I feel every single one. They pass through me and I still stand but it's excruciating pain every time. I think you're right, son. I must be dead. Something's keeping me here. Maybe myself. This will all be over when I bury my brother. And that will never happen until I'm in a quiet grassy field. I can't rest until he rests.

CSD: One last question. What's your name?

RPC-051: I don't want a single piece of myself left on this Earth any longer. This world doesn't deserve to have anyone in its possession. I want you to forget about me.

CSD: I thank you for your words, sir. Good luck.

RPC-051: It's a little too late for that now.

<End Log>

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