The Haze of Rationalization (August 29th – 30th, 1930)
The dust has barely settled on the scorched remains of the Aylesbury Pike farmhouse, yet the human mind, in its desperate bid for survival, has already begun the work of reconstruction. For Teddy Harris, an English major whose life is defined by narrative, the horrors of the geology lab and the winged exodus from Arkham have been repurposed into a story—a dark, improbable fiction meant to keep the crushing weight of reality at bay. He hyper-focuses on his studies, retreating into his notebooks as if the ink could act as a barrier against the “red mist” he so recently inhabited.
Sophia Picado, the ever-logical chemist, finds this peace more elusive. The realization that she had almost no control over the events in Cobb’s Corners or the Science Annex terrifies her. Her world of ordered formulas has been upended by the high-pitched whine of a surgical saw and the smell of ozone. With Professor Learmonth suddenly taking a “medical leave of absence” following his near-ordeal in the lab, Sophia feels a burgeoning sense of isolation, her scientific anchor replaced by a growing guilt over the treasures lost to the flames of the Orne Library.
Peter Goodman, meanwhile, ruminates on risk. He views their survival not as a victory, but as a failure of planning. The vision of a dead-but-living Harry Higgins pointing a firearm at him through a car window lingers in his mind like a persistent migraine. He senses a metaphysical interference, a deliberate distraction intended to ruin his concentration, and he watches his companions with a quiet, growing concern.
Lastly, Professor Lilian Neill finds her academic worldview fundamentally altered. No longer are myths and legends mere cultural explanations of the world; they are warnings. She has spent her hours since the riot sequestered with Eli Davenport’s Indigenous Legends of Vermont, discovering that the “remoter hills” of the state hide things that civilization has never touched. Every page turned adds to a burgeoning understanding that the corner of a very large, very heavy slab has been lifted, and the woodlice are scurrying in the dark.
The Invitation (August 31st, 1930)
The contemplation on campus was broken on the morning of the 31st of August when each of the four survivors received an identical, cryptic note. Delivered by hand or waiting in university pigeonholes, the message came from a man named Leon Pasqualle. It was an invitation to dinner at Crawford’s Restaurant at 7:00 PM that evening, acting on behalf of the reclusive head of Federated Oil and Chemical (FOC), Michael Abelard.
The choice of venue was an intentional display of power. Crawford’s is the most expensive and prestigious dining establishment in Arkham, a place of massive eight-course meals and brass plaques memorializing the visits of generals. For a group of struggling students and an embattled professor, the invitation carried the weight of a command.
As they gathered to depart, the tension within the group was palpable. Teddy, looking dishevelled and distracted, had stuffed a bloodied trenching tool—the krieg shovel that ended Lewis Gibbons’ life—into his suitcase, a grim souvenir he could not bring himself to discard. Peter attempted to provide a steadying influence, though even he questioned if the man they were about to meet was truly human or another empty vessel with a borrowed voice.
A Meeting with the “Aliens”
They were greeted at Crawford’s by the head waiter, whose waxed moustache was as sharp as the atmosphere. They were led to a private upstairs room where three figures waited. Leon Pasqualle, a tall, impeccably suited man in his thirties, made the introductions. Beside him sat Michael Abelard, a man whose presence felt both frail and intimidating. He was seated in a wheelchair, his legs paralyzed—a permanent reminder, he claimed, of the day he met the “Aliens”. Standing vigil behind him was Selena Preston, a former New York socialite whose family fortune had vanished in the crash, now serving as Abelard’s personal assistant.
Abelard wasted no time on pleasantries. “I suspect you know some of what I know about the nature of things that happen in this world,” he began, his voice level and heavy with the weight of years spent in a private war. He recounted the tragedy that had defined his life eight years prior: a climbing accident in the Pyrenees that claimed his son, Michael Jr., and left him crippled . He didn’t fall because of a misstep; he fell because they had stumbled upon a prospecting party of flying, crustaceous entities—the Mi-Go.
“Since then,” Abelard stated, leaning forward with clasped hands, “I have dedicated my fortune to seeking out those creatures. I would ultimately like to rid them of this Earth”.
The Ethics of the Hunt
The revelation sparked immediate friction. Lilian Neill, her academic integrity bristling, questioned the honesty of a man who would send students into a valley he already suspected was infested with otherworldly threats. “Did you know you were putting people at risk?” she demanded.
Abelard’s denial was swift but nuanced. He claimed he believed the previous expeditions were matters of misadventure and “untested science,” only recently realizing that the Mi-Go were actively protecting the Pasqualium deposits in the Vermont hills. He argued that the raid on the university confirmed his worst fears—that the aliens were purging evidence of their existence and harvesting human minds to understand their adversaries.
Sophia, fascinated by the mention of the mineral, questioned Leon Pasqualle on his brother Victor’s discovery. The atmosphere grew strained as she noticed a flicker of something unsaid in Leon’s expression—a look that suggested the discovery of Pasqualium was far from a “lucky break”.
The Offer and the Exit
Despite the skepticism, Abelard made an offer that none of them felt truly able to refuse. He proposed a new expedition to Cobb’s Corners, funded entirely by FOC. This time, the investigators would not be alone; they would be accompanied by a team of scientists and a well-equipped militia to ensure they would not be “snatched away one by one” as their colleagues had been.
In return, Abelard promised to settle their university records, provide for their futures, and fund Lilian’s research indefinitely. “You are a unique group of people,” Leon added smoothly. “You have a lived experience of the Mi-Go that very few on this planet possess”.
Teddy, in a rare moment of openness, handed over his narrative journal to Abelard. The millionaire spent the remainder of the meal engrossed in the text, seeing his own obsession reflected in the young man’s scribbling. As the eight-course dinner concluded, the pact was made. The investigators were to depart for Detroit to prepare for the return to the valley.
Final Farewells in Arkham (September 1st – 2nd, 1930)
The following forty-eight hours were a blur of preparation and poignant goodbyes. Peter Goodman quietly packed his hunting gear, resigned to the fact that they were heading back into the “belly of the beast”. Lilian Neill returned to the Orne Library to hand back the Davenport monograph and speak with Dr. Henry Armitage.
She found Armitage amidst a sea of charred parchment, a man visibly aged by the weight of his duties. When she informed him of the FOC expedition, he offered a weary blessing and a stark warning: “Be careful. Fieldwork can change you”. Armitage’s wariness of Abelard’s “fervent interest” in the restricted collection lingered in Lilian’s mind—a subtle reminder that there are multiple factions vying for control over the same dark secrets.
Sophia Picado spent her final hours in the lab, feverishly outlining her PhD template before drafting a heartfelt, but less than fully truthful, letter to her fiancée, Gabriel. She spoke of a rare research opportunity in Detroit, omitting the terrifying reality that she was trading her academic safety for a place on the front lines of an interdimensional war.
The Iron Path to Detroit (September 3rd, 1930)
On the morning of the 3rd, a large black car arrived at their residences to ferry them to Boston Harbour. Waiting for them on the water was the epitome of German engineering: a Dornier Do X flying boat, branded with the FOC logo. The aircraft was an opulent, wooden-hulled giant with twelve engines roaring across its upper wing.
The flight to Detroit was smooth, the drone of the engines muffling any remaining doubts as they banked over the Atlantic and turned westward. Landing on Lake Erie, they were met by a Rolls-Royce Phantom II and the same large, mute Scotsman in a kilt they had glimpsed at the restaurant. Murdoch, Abelard’s bodyguard, wordlessly loaded their bags and drove them into the industrial heart of Detroit.
The city was a stark contrast to Arkham’s leafy streets—a landscape of steelworks and plumes of black smoke. They were led to an austere, six-story brick building that resembled a fortified bank: the headquarters of Federated Oil and Chemical. As the elevator rose toward Abelard’s private residence on the upper floors, the investigators realized the scale of the world they were entering.
They have survived the small-town horror of Cobb’s Corners and the infiltration of Miskatonic University, but as they step out into the gilded fortress of Michael Abelard’s empire, they understand that the true battle for the Earth is only just beginning.
Until next time,
Owen