Observations on the Deterioration of Dr. Maren Thalis
A Clinical Record Maintained by Dr. Corvin Alde, Associate Researcher
Observations on the Deterioration of Dr. Maren Thalis
A Clinical Record Maintained by Dr. Corvin Alde, Associate Researcher
University of Aeridor, Department of Metaphysical Studies
Entry 1 — 3rd of Frostmarch, 891 SW
Subject: Dr. Maren Thalis, Senior Researcher, Metaphysical Studies
Observer: Dr. Corvin Alde, Associate Researcher
Context: Initial documentation following reported cognitive anomalies
Dr. Thalis approached me this morning in an agitated state, claiming to have experienced what she termed “a cascade of temporal perception” three days prior. She described the experience as accessing memories of events that have not yet occurred — specifically, my death in a laboratory fire scheduled for 7th Frostmarch.
I responded with appropriate concern for her wellbeing. Dr. Thalis has been conducting independent research into what our colleagues dismissively call “future-sight phenomena,” though her approach has been characteristically methodical. She maintains detailed logs, conducts controlled experiments, and has shown no previous signs of psychological distress.
Her description of the fire was unnervingly specific: the smell of phosphorus compounds, the location of ignition (the eastern fume hood), even the precise wording I would use in my final moments. She insisted I avoid the laboratory on that date entirely.
Initial Assessment: Possible acute stress reaction secondary to research fatigue. Dr. Thalis has been working 14-hour days for the past month. Confabulation with hyper specific detail may indicate sleep deprivation or early-stage delusional disorder.
Recommended Action: Mandatory rest period, psychological evaluation if symptoms persist.
Personal Note: Despite my clinical detachment, I find myself reluctant to enter the laboratory on the 7th. This is, of course, irrational.
Maren and I have been colleagues for eight years, friends for nearly as long. The thought of her experiencing genuine distress troubles me more than I care to admit in an official record.
Entry 2 — 8th of Frostmarch, 891 SW
There was no fire yesterday.
I worked in the laboratory from dawn until dusk, deliberately using the eastern fume hood for several experiments. Nothing unusual occurred. When I informed Dr. Thalis of this, expecting relief, she instead became more distressed.
“No, no — you don’t understand, Corvin. It happened. I remember it happening. The smell, the heat, your voice calling for help. I remember attending your memorial service. I remember...” She paused, her hands trembling. “I remember your wife reading that passage from Kellvren. The one about impermanence.”
My wife did read from Kellvren at her father’s funeral last year. How does Maren know this? I never told her which passage was read.
When I asked her to clarify, she looked confused. “I... I was there. Wasn’t I? At your funeral. I gave the eulogy. Or no, I was too distraught to speak, your wife had to...” She stopped, pressing her palms against her temples. “But you’re here. You didn’t die. So why do I remember it?”
Revised Assessment: Dr. Thalis presents with increasingly elaborate confabulation. The level of detail suggests this is not simple fabrication but rather a genuine perceptual distortion. She appears to sincerely believe in the veracity of her “memories.”
Notably, she correctly identified specific details (the Kellvren passage) that she should have no knowledge of, yet applied them to an event (my funeral) that never occurred. This suggests possible cryptomnesia — accurate memories being placed in false contexts.
Action Taken: I have convinced her to cease her research temporarily and submit to a full neurological examination. She agreed, though with visible reluctance.
Personal Note: I inspected the eastern fume hood today. Found a hairline crack in one of the phosphorus compound containers. If it had broken during use...
I disposed of it immediately.
Coincidence. Surely.
Yet I found myself shaking as I sealed the damaged container. The image of Maren’s face when she warned me — the absolute certainty in her eyes — haunts me still.
Entry 3 — 15th of Frostmarch, 891 SW
The neurological examination revealed nothing abnormal. Brain architecture appears typical. No lesions, no anomalies in blood flow, no evidence of seizure activity. Dr. Thalis’s cognitive function tests within normal ranges for memory, reasoning, and perception.
Yet her condition worsens.
She now claims to remember two distinct versions of last week: one in which I died in the fire, and one in which I survived after she convinced me to avoid the laboratory. Both memories, she insists, are equally vivid and real. She cannot reconcile them.
“I remember attending your funeral,” she said during today’s session, speaking slowly and deliberately. “I remember standing in the rain. I remember the exact words your wife spoke. And I also remember warning you, watching you go to the laboratory anyway, holding my breath all day waiting to hear if something happened. Both memories are complete. Both feel real. How is that possible?”
Clinical Observation: Dr. Thalis shows no other signs of dissociation or delusional thinking. She remains oriented to time, place, and person. Her logic is intact. Her emotional responses are appropriate. Yet she maintains these contradictory memories with absolute conviction.
Concerning Development: Dr. Thalis is now claiming to have “prevented” three other catastrophic events:
A building collapse on campus (which did not occur)
A poisoning at the faculty dining hall (which did not occur)
An illness I supposedly would have contracted (which I have not)
For each, she describes detailed memories of both the catastrophe occurring and her successful intervention to prevent it. She insists both sets of memories are real — that she lived through the event happening AND prevented it from happening.
Personal Note: Against my better judgment, I asked her to describe my funeral in detail. She recounted the entire ceremony — who attended, what they wore, speeches given, weather conditions. Much of it was generic enough to dismiss.
But then she mentioned that Professor Keene broke down weeping during the service. Professor Keene, who maintains strict emotional control in all circumstances, who I’ve never seen show more than mild concern.
I happened to encounter Professor Keene this afternoon. In casual conversation, I learned his brother died in a fiery laboratory accident fifteen years ago. He never speaks of it.
How does Maren know that fire would affect him so deeply?
Entry 4 — 27th of Frostmarch, 891 SW
Dr. Thalis no longer maintains clear distinction between events that occurred and events that exist only in her memory.
This morning she referenced an argument we supposedly had last week — a heated dispute about her research methodology in which I allegedly accused her of fabricating data. No such argument occurred. When I told her this, she became agitated.
“Yes it did. It was Wednesday afternoon. You came to my office. You were angry because you’d found inconsistencies in my observation logs. You said—” She recited my supposed words with perfect clarity, including inflection and emphasis.
“Maren, I never said those things.”
“You did. I remember every word. Unless...” She paused, a strange look crossing her face. “Unless that hasn’t happened yet. Or it happened but you don’t remember it. Or...” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Or it happened in the version where I didn’t warn you about the fire. The version where you died. Maybe you said those things before the accident.”
Assessment: Dr. Thalis presents with severe impairment in distinguishing between actual memories and what appear to be false or confabulated ones. She frequently references conversations that never occurred, events that didn’t happen, and responds to situations based on “memories” that have no basis in observed reality.
Troubling Pattern: Other faculty members now report similar incidents. Professor Keene says Dr. Thalis apologized to him yesterday for “not attending the memorial service.” When he expressed confusion, she described in detail a memorial service for me — one that never occurred because I’m alive.
Yet her description matched elements of his brother’s memorial service fifteen years ago with impossible accuracy.
Personal Note: I’ve begun documenting these cross-references. The details she shouldn’t know but does:
Professor Keene’s brother’s memorial
The exact passage read at my father-in-law’s funeral (which she’s now conflated with my non-existent funeral)
How does she know these things? I need to review her research materials.
Entry 5 — 14th of Greenwake, 891 SW
Incident Requiring Documentation:
Three days ago, Dr. Thalis mentioned that in her “memory of my funeral,” Professor Keene wore a grey coat with brass buttons. This detail meant nothing to me at the time.
Yesterday, Professor Keene showed me the coat he’d just had tailored — grey wool with brass buttons. He’d commissioned it weeks ago but only received it yesterday. He’s never owned a coat like it before.
When I asked why he chose that style, he said he wasn’t sure. It simply felt right.
Additional Verification:
She “remembered” a book I was considering purchasing. I bought it two days ago, having made the decision independently.
She described a conversation between Professor Keene and Dr. Vess that she claims occurred “in another version.” I happened to overhear that exact conversation this morning. They were discussing temporal anomalies in research data.
She warned me that my pocket watch would break. It did — when I dropped it while anxiously checking it to see if it would break.
Growing Unease:
Either Dr. Thalis is experiencing elaborate delusional episodes that coincidentally align with reality, or she is accessing genuine information about events before they occur.
I will request access to her research materials. If she conducted systematic documentation of this phenomenon, reviewing her methodology may provide clarity.
Entry 6 — 3rd of Sunreach, 891 SW
Dr. Thalis can no longer maintain coherent conversation.
She begins responding to something I say, then shifts mid-sentence to respond to something I didn’t say — or rather, to something I said in a conversation we never had. She references events that haven’t happened as though they’re established facts, then grows confused when I don’t remember them.
From this morning’s session (recorded verbatim):
Alde: “Maren, how are you feeling today?”
Thalis: “Better. The headaches have lessened since I— no, that’s not... I mean worse. Much worse. Which day is this?”
Alde: “It’s the third of Sunreach.”
Thalis: “Yes. No. This is the day you— or this is before that. I’m sorry, I can’t... I remember this conversation going so many different ways. In one version you’re angry with me. In another you’ve already given up. In another—” She stopped, looking genuinely distressed. “Which version is this?”
Alde: “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
Thalis: “Which conversation are we having? I remember so many. I remember you telling me to stop the research. I remember you encouraging me to continue. I remember you not visiting at all today. I remember this exact conversation but you say different words and I say different words and it ends differently every time, but they’re all real, Corvin. Every version is in my memory as vividly as if it happened.”
Analysis: Dr. Thalis appears to be accumulating contradictory memories at an accelerating rate. Each interaction generates multiple versions in her mind, and she can no longer determine which version corresponds to events as they’re actually occurring.
Deterioration Pattern:
She now maintains contradictory memories of hundreds of events
She cannot reliably identify which memories correspond to this timeline
She responds to situations that didn’t occur (here)
She apologizes for arguments we never had
She references shared experiences I have no memory of
She mourns losses that never happened
Personal Note: She told me today: “I remember saving you so many times, Corvin. Pulling you from fire. Warning you about illness. Preventing accidents. Dozens of times. But I also remember failing. Watching you die. Mourning you. And I can’t tell anymore which memories belong to the world we’re in. So when I see you alive, part of me is relieved and part of me is confused because I have such clear memories of your funeral.”
She wept. I had no comfort to offer.
I’ve been sleeping poorly. My wife asks why I wake in the night, why I seem distant over breakfast. How do I explain that I’m watching my closest friend lose herself to something I cannot even name, let alone treat?
Entry 7 — 19th of Sunreach, 891 SW
Dr. Thalis appeared at my door unannounced this evening, insisting we had an appointment. My calendar showed an entry in my handwriting for exactly this time — an entry I have no memory of making.
“I need to tell you something,” she said, speaking rapidly. “You’re going to be offered a position at the Institute of Causal Studies in three days. I remember reading the letter. I remember your decision — both decisions, actually. In one version you accept, in another you decline. I need you to understand what—”
I interrupted her. “Maren, there is no such offer.”
“There will be. The letter is being written right now. I can tell you the exact wording: ‘Your expertise in documented metaphysical phenomena makes you uniquely qualified...’ I remember you showing it to me. Multiple times. Different reactions each time.”
The letter arrived this morning. One day early. The wording was exact.
I can no longer maintain the pretense of clinical skepticism. Something extraordinary is occurring, though I still lack adequate framework to explain it.
Entry 8 — 20th of Sunreach, 891 SW
Conversation with Colleagues - The Faculty Lounge
I encountered Professor Keene and Dr. Vess in the faculty lounge this afternoon. The conversation that followed has left me deeply unsettled.
Professor Keene brought up Dr. Thalis unprompted. “Has Maren been... well, lately?” he asked, with evident concern. “She’s been doing this odd thing with predictions.”
Dr. Vess nodded immediately. “The coin flips? She did that with me last week. I thought it was a probability demonstration at first.”
I felt my stomach tighten. “What exactly did she do?”
Professor Keene’s Account:
“She approached me three weeks ago with a sealed envelope. Asked me to flip a coin twenty times and record the results. Insisted I not open the envelope until I’d finished. When I did...” He paused. “Every single flip was correct. All twenty. I assumed it was a trick coin, but I’d used my own.”
Dr. Vess’s Account:
“She did something similar with me, but with dice. Thirty rolls. Predicted every single one. I asked her how she did it, and she just said...” Dr. Vess’s voice dropped. “She said, ‘I’m not predicting. I’m remembering.’ What does that even mean?”
Professor Keene continued: “There’s more. Last month, she warned me to have the dining hall kitchen inspected. Said something about the cold storage. I thought she was being paranoid, but I mentioned it to the kitchen staff anyway. They found spoiled meat that could have made people seriously ill.”
He looked at me directly. “Corvin, she saved lives with that warning. But when I thanked her, she started crying. She kept apologizing, saying she ‘remembered it differently.’ That she’d ‘failed’ somehow. But she hadn’t failed — she’d prevented a disaster.”
Dr. Vess’s Addition:
“She told me last week that she remembered my carriage accident. Described it in detail — the broken wheel, the collision, my injuries. But that accident hasn’t happened. I asked if she was warning me about a danger, and she said...” Dr. Vess’s expression was troubled. “She said, ‘No, it already happened. I remember treating your injuries. I remember your recovery. But I also remember warning you and it not happening. Both memories are real.’”
My Response:
I told them about the fire she’d predicted. About the cracked phosphorus container I’d found and disposed of. About her insistence that she remembered my death.
Professor Keene went pale. “You think she’s actually seeing the future? Or remembering it, as she says?”
“I don’t know what I think anymore,” I admitted. “But I’m going to request access to her research materials. If she’s been documenting this systematically, there may be answers there.”
Collective Assessment:
All three of us agreed on several points:
Dr. Thalis has demonstrated impossible knowledge of future events
Her predictions are not vague but terrifyingly specific
She becomes distressed when her predictions are prevented, as though she’s lost something by changing the future
She maintains that she “remembers” these futures rather than merely foreseeing them
Her mental state has deteriorated significantly in recent months
Dr. Vess suggested we consult with the medical faculty about possible neurological explanations. Professor Keene suggested we simply support her as friends and colleagues, whatever is happening.
I suggested we all be very careful, and very honest, in our observations going forward.
Personal Note: Both of my colleagues have directly benefited from Maren’s warnings. Professor Keene’s dining hall intervention may have saved his own life, if her “memory” of his death from the poisoning was accurate. Dr. Vess may have avoided serious injury from a carriage accident that now will never occur.
They’re alive and well because of her. Yet she mourns them as though they’d died, because in her memory, they did.
How many of us carry this weight for her? How many disasters has she prevented while accumulating memories of our deaths?
Tomorrow I’ll request access to her research journals. I need to understand what’s happening to her.
Entry 9 — 21st of Sunreach, 891 SW
Review of Research Materials
Dr. Thalis has granted me access to her research journals. There are two distinct sets of documents: her official research log and a personal diary. She insisted I read both, though she seemed reluctant to hand over the diary.
“You need to understand how it started,” she said. “You need to see that I didn’t go looking for this. It found me.”
I’ve begun with the research log. What I’m reading is... troubling. Not because it’s unscientific — quite the opposite.
Research Log - Entry dated 4th of Deepwinter, 891 SW:
Continuing analysis of residual metaphysical resonance in historical sites. The Kethmar excavation samples show promising trace signatures. If we can isolate the decay pattern, we might finally have a reproducible method for dating metaphysical events.
Attended the department celebration tonight. Professor Vess brought that terrible spiced wine again. Worth it for the conversation, though. Corvin and I debated the epistemology of temporal perception until nearly midnight. He’s wrong about causality being necessarily linear, but I’ll forgive him.
The writing is clear, confident, engaged with entirely mundane research questions. This is the Maren I knew — brilliant, meticulous, slightly irreverent.
Then, the next entry:
Research Log - Entry dated 5th of Deepwinter, 891 SW:
Something strange happened this morning. I woke with what I can only describe as complete, detailed memories of the entire day ahead. Not vague premonitions — actual memories, as vivid as anything from my past. I remember having breakfast (porridge with honey, though I haven’t made it yet). I remember the conversation with Professor Keene about the Kethmar samples (he’s going to suggest a different analysis method). I remember cutting my hand on broken glass during afternoon laboratory work.
Most likely explanation: extremely vivid dream persisting into waking consciousness. The wine last night was quite strong. Will document today’s events to verify whether any correlation exists. This is almost certainly nothing, but proper methodology requires I check.
She then documented the day’s events in brackets, added later:
[Breakfast: porridge with honey. Didn’t consciously decide this, just made it automatically. Coincidence?]
[Professor Keene conversation occurred exactly as “remembered.” He suggested thermoluminescent dating. Exact words: “Have you considered thermoluminescent analysis? The Kethmar samples might retain enough metaphysical heat signature.” I had “remembered” him saying precisely this.]
[Afternoon: broke beaker, cut left hand on glass. Same location, same depth as “remembered.” Required three stitches.]
[Conclusion: Either remarkable coincidence, or something requiring further investigation.]
Assessment: Dr. Thalis approached the phenomenon exactly as a scientist should — with skepticism and systematic documentation. There’s no mysticism here, no jumping to conclusions. Just careful observation.
I’ll continue reviewing tomorrow. There are dozens more entries.
Entry 10 — 22nd of Sunreach, 891 SW
Continued Review - Research Log
The next several entries follow the same pattern. Dr. Thalis experiences what she calls “morning memories” — waking with complete recollection of the day ahead. She documents each one, then verifies throughout the day.
Research Log - 7th of Deepwinter:
Third occurrence. “Remembered” entire day again upon waking. Details remain precise: weather (snow beginning at second bell), colleague interactions, even the specific page number where I’ll find an error in my calculations (page 47, third equation, sign error).
Verification: All accurate. Snow began exactly when “remembered.” Found the calculation error on page 47 precisely as predicted.
This cannot be coincidence. The specificity is too high. Probability of randomly predicting page number, equation number, AND error type is astronomically low.
Research Log - 9th of Deepwinter:
Fifth consecutive day. I’m beginning to understand the mechanism, or at least its manifestation. These aren’t visions or premonitions — they’re memories. They have the complete phenomenological character of remembered experience: sensory detail, emotional content, narrative continuity. My consciousness cannot distinguish them from actual memories of past events.
Attempting to develop testing protocol. Need to eliminate confirmation bias, observer effect, self-fulfilling prophecy complications.
She then designed a series of experiments. Reading them, I’m struck by how rigorous her methodology was.
Research Log - 11th of Deepwinter:
Experiment 1: Random event prediction. Each morning I will predict 20 coin flips performed by colleague who is unaware of my predictions. Results recorded in sealed envelope before colleague performs flips.
Results: 20/20 correct. Colleague confirmed no way I could have influenced outcomes.
Experiment 2: Dice rolls. Same protocol. Predicted results of 30 six-sided dice rolls.
Results: 30/30 correct.
Experiment 3: Random number generation. Predicted 15 digits generated by mechanical randomizer.
Results: 15/15 correct.
Statistical analysis: Probability of these results occurring by chance is effectively zero (p < 0.000001).
Personal Note: I remember performing these experiments with her. At the time, she told me she was testing a new probability analysis method. I thought nothing of it. The dice rolls, the coin flips — I witnessed them myself. She made her predictions in sealed envelopes before I performed the randomizations.
She was right every single time.
I thought it was an impressive statistical trick. I never looked at her prediction envelopes until after I’d generated the results.
She knew. She already knew what I was going to roll.
Assessment: The data is clear and reproducible. Dr. Thalis conducted proper double-blind protocols. She eliminated obvious confounds. The results are statistically impossible unless she genuinely possessed foreknowledge.
I’m beginning to understand why she’s so certain about her condition. This isn’t delusion. She tested it with the same rigor she’d apply to any phenomenon.
I’ll continue reading. The later entries may explain when things began to go wrong.
Entry 11 — 23rd of Sunreach, 891 SW
Research Log - Later Entries
Dr. Thalis’s research notes become more focused — and more concerned — as they progress.
Research Log - 18th of Deepwinter:
The “memories” extend further each day. Initially only the immediate day ahead. Now I’m remembering events 2-3 days in the future. This morning I woke with memories extending nearly a week forward.
Quality remains identical to genuine memory. I don’t “see” the future — I remember having already lived it. The distinction may seem semantic, but it’s crucial. These aren’t uncertain predictions. They’re concrete recollections of events that haven’t occurred yet.
Troubling implication: If I’m remembering definite futures, what happens if I change them?
Research Log - 20th of Deepwinter:
Conducted deliberate intervention experiment. “Remembered” that I would leave my office keys on the laboratory bench. At the moment I was about to place them there, I deliberately put them in my pocket instead.
Result: I now have two equally vivid memories. One of leaving the keys on the bench (and the subsequent frustration of searching for them). One of placing them in my pocket (and finding them there easily). Both memories are complete with sensory detail and emotional content. Both feel absolutely real.
This is deeply unsettling. I’ve created a contradiction in my own memory. The memories don’t resolve or merge — they coexist. I remember doing both things, experiencing both outcomes.
Question: Is this sustainable? What happens if contradictory memories accumulate?
Research Log - 23rd of Deepwinter:
Have performed 15 more deliberate intervention experiments. Results consistent: each intervention creates dual memories. I now remember 15 different versions of the past week, all equally vivid, many mutually contradictory.
Memory integration appears stable so far, but I’m noticing strain. Occasionally respond to wrong version of events. Yesterday called Professor Keene by wrong title — in one memory set he was promoted to Department Head, in another he wasn’t. In our current timeline he wasn’t, but I momentarily confused the versions.
Concerning pattern: The contradictions are accumulating. I remember making tea this morning. I also remember not making tea. I remember taking the western stairs. I also remember taking the eastern stairs. Small things so far, but I now maintain perhaps 40-50 distinct contradictory memories of recent events.
Should I continue these experiments?
The entries become less frequent after this. More scattered. On the 28th of Deepwinter, she wrote only:
The memories extend three weeks forward now. I see too much. Need to stop deliberately creating contradictions until I understand the mechanism better.
Then nothing for several days.
Assessment: Dr. Thalis discovered the problem herself. She documented the accumulation of contradictory memories, noted the strain, and tried to stop. But by then she’d already created dozens of contradictions in her own memory. And the ability kept extending further into the future.
What happened next must be in her personal diary. The research log stops here, though there are blank pages remaining.
Entry 12 — 24th of Sunreach, 891 SW
Personal Diary
I’ve begun reading Dr. Thalis’s personal diary. The shift in tone is immediate and striking. Where the research log was clinical and measured, the diary is raw and frightened.
Personal Diary - 4th of Deepwinter:
I need to write this somewhere that isn’t the official record. Something happened today that I don’t understand and it’s terrifying.
I woke up KNOWING things. Not guessing, not intuiting — knowing with absolute certainty. I knew what Corvin would say before he said it. I knew about the glass breaking before it broke. I knew about the conversation with Professor Keene word for word.
It feels like remembering. Like I’ve already lived this day and I’m just going through it again. But that’s impossible. This is today. This is happening for the first time.
Isn’t it?
Gods, the wine must have been stronger than I thought. This is ridiculous. I’ll feel foolish about this tomorrow.
But she doesn’t feel foolish. The next entry:
Personal Diary - 5th of Deepwinter:
It happened again. This is the third day now. I remember things that haven’t happened yet. Not vaguely — with perfect clarity.
I’m trying to be scientific about it. Document it properly. But I’m scared. What if this doesn’t stop? What if I start remembering further ahead? What if—
No. Be rational. Test it properly. Gather data. Understand it.
But what if I don’t WANT to understand it? What if I just want it to go away?
The diary entries parallel the research log at first — she documents her experiments, her growing certainty that the phenomenon is real. But they include something the research log doesn’t: her fear.
Personal Diary - 20th of Deepwinter:
I have two memories of today now. In one version I left my keys on the bench. In the other I put them in my pocket. Both memories are real. Both happened.
Except they didn’t both happen. Only one version is real. But I can’t tell which one. They feel identical. How am I supposed to know which memories correspond to the actual timeline?
This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have changed things deliberately. But I needed to know if I could.
Now I do know. And I can’t undo it.
Then, on the 1st of Frostmarch — the day before she first approached me — the tone shifts completely:
Personal Diary - 1st of Frostmarch:
I woke this morning with memories of the next week. All of it. Every detail.
Including Corvin’s death.
The fire. The eastern fume hood. The phosphorus compounds. I remember the smell. I remember the heat. I remember his voice crying out. I remember the memorial service. I remember his wife reading that passage from Kellvren. I remember everything.
It’s three days from now. The 7th.
Oh gods. This is real. This is actually real. I’m not making this up. I’m not confused. I’m not delusional. I’m REMEMBERING Corvin’s death, and it hasn’t happened yet, but it WILL happen, and—
I have to stop it. I have to warn him. I have to change this.
But if I change it... I’ll remember both versions. I’ll remember him dying AND him surviving. I’ll carry both memories forever.
I don’t care. I can’t let him die. I don’t care what it costs.
The next entry is dated 3rd of Frostmarch — the day she first came to me:
Personal Diary - 3rd of Frostmarch:
I told Corvin today. About the fire. About his death. He thinks I’m having some kind of episode. Stress, overwork, psychological break. I can see it in his eyes — that clinical concern, that careful distance.
He doesn’t believe me. Why would he? I sound insane.
But I’m not insane. I’m remembering his funeral with the same clarity I remember my own childhood. It’s real. It’s going to happen.
Unless I can stop it.
Please let me stop it.
There are no more entries after this in the diary. The rest of the pages are blank.
Assessment: Dr. Thalis knew exactly what was happening to her. She documented it carefully. She understood the cost of creating contradictory memories. And she did it anyway because the alternative was letting me die.
She chose this. Not blindly, not ignorantly. She knew accumulating contradictory memories was damaging her. She made that choice consciously.
Because she remembered my death and couldn’t live with doing nothing.
Entry 13 — 25th of Sunreach, 891 SW
Analysis and Reflection
I’ve spent the last day reviewing Dr. Thalis’s research materials repeatedly. Cross-referencing her experiments with my own memories of participating in them. Checking her statistical analysis. Looking for any flaw, any alternative explanation.
I find none.
The Data:
47 consecutive recorded successful predictions of random events (probability of chance: < 0.000001)
Perfect accuracy on complex future events (conversations, accidents, specific details)
Systematic documentation of contradictory memory formation
Clear pattern of cognitive strain correlating with memory accumulation
No evidence of fraud, delusion, or confabulation in the research methodology
The Mechanism (as I understand it):
Dr. Thalis’s ability manifests as memory, not vision. She doesn’t see possible futures — she remembers definite futures as though they’ve already occurred. When she acts to prevent negative futures, the timeline changes but the original memory persists. She accumulates both: memory of what would have happened, and memory of what did happen after her intervention.
Initially this was manageable. A few contradictory memories about small things — tea versus no tea, eastern stairs versus western stairs. But then she remembered my death. And she acted to prevent it.
That created a major contradiction: she now remembers both my death (in complete detail) and my survival (equally complete). Both memories carry the full weight of lived experience.
Why It Progressed:
Looking back through her documentation and my own observations, I can see the cascade:
She prevented my death (major contradiction acquired)
Building collapse she foresaw (contradiction acquired)
Dining hall poisoning (contradiction acquired)
My illness (contradiction acquired)
Dozens more I haven’t catalogued
Each intervention added more contradictory memories. Her compassion — her inability to foresee tragedy without acting — drove her to keep intervening. Each intervention fractured her memory further.
Cross-References to Her Research:
Several incidents I documented make more sense now:
She knew about Professor Keene’s brother’s death because in the timeline where I died, he broke down during my funeral. She experienced that. She remembers it. It happened in a real way, even though in this timeline it didn’t.
The coat Professor Keene wore — she remembered him wearing it to my memorial service. In this timeline, he only just had it made. But she remembers seeing him wear it to an event that no longer occurred.
The conversations she references that never happened — they DID happen, in timelines that no longer exist because she changed them. But the memories remain.
The Tragedy:
Dr. Thalis did everything right from a scientific standpoint. She:
Documented carefully
Tested rigorously
Identified the problem (contradictory memories accumulating)
Tried to stop creating contradictions
But she couldn’t stop. Not when she saw people in danger. Not when she remembered their deaths and their grief. She kept intervening because she’s compassionate, and each act of compassion cost her more of her coherent self.
Remaining Questions:
Her research notes mention trying to find information about “managing” this ability. Her diary has a cryptic entry from mid-Deepwinter: “Found reference to something called ‘intentional fracturing’ in an old text, but the technique wasn’t explained. Maybe protective method?”
She never found more detail. Or found it too late. Or found it in timelines she can no longer access.
Personal Note:
I am scientifically trained. I believe in evidence, in data, in reproducible results. Everything in me wants to find a conventional explanation.
But the data is clear. The methodology was sound. The results are consistent.
Dr. Maren Thalis accessed genuine precognitive ability that manifests as memory. When she changed futures she’d remembered, both versions remained real in her consciousness. After months of interventions, she accumulated hundreds of contradictory memories that her mind cannot reconcile.
I cannot discount the evidence.
I can only acknowledge it and understand: she sacrificed her coherent self to save people. To save me.
And there is nothing I can do to help her.
Entry 14 — 7th of Summertide, 891 SW
Dr. Thalis has stopped sleeping.
She says sleep makes it worse — that in dreams, the contradictory memories blend together even more severely. She can no longer tell which experiences occurred while conscious versus in dreams, which occurred in this timeline versus others.
“Every time I close my eyes,” she explained yesterday, “I dream memories. Things that haven’t happened yet, or that happened differently, or that I prevented from happening. When I wake, they’re just as vivid as everything else. I can’t distinguish anymore between memory and dream and prediction. They’re all just... versions of reality I’ve experienced.”
Physical Deterioration:
Severe weight loss (approximately 15 kilograms)
Persistent tremor in both hands
Dark circles, bloodshot eyes
Episodes of spatial disorientation
Appears to age visibly day by day
Cognitive Deterioration:
Cannot maintain single narrative thread
Constantly shifts between versions of events
Responds to situations from wrong timelines
References conversations that never occurred
Apologizes for actions she never took
Mourns events that didn’t happen
Notable Exchange:
Thalis: “I remember when I first accessed this ability. Or abilities — there were two of them, I think. Or three. One showed me memories of the future. Another showed... branching paths? I can’t remember clearly. And there was a technique, something about splitting consciousness to handle the information load. I remember learning about it. But I also remember never learning it. I remember understanding it perfectly, and I remember dismissing it as nonsense, and I remember—”
She pressed both hands to her head, trembling.
Thalis: “I didn’t do something. Something I should have done. Or could have done. In some versions I did it and I was fine. But in this version I didn’t, and now everything is accumulated, all of it, every contradictory memory, and I can’t make it stop.”
Assessment: Dr. Thalis seems to retain fragmentary memories of concepts or techniques she never fully learned. She references “branching paths” and “splitting consciousness” but cannot articulate what these mean or where the knowledge came from.
It’s possible these are phantom memories from timelines where she learned protective techniques — techniques that might have prevented her current condition. But in this timeline, she never encountered that information. She’s trapped experiencing the full weight of this ability with no framework to manage it.
Personal Note: I’ve begun finding objects I don’t remember placing. Notes in my handwriting I don’t remember writing. My office feels subtly wrong, as though furniture has been moved and moved back, but not quite to the right positions.
I catch myself remembering things that didn’t happen. Yesterday I had a vivid memory of a colleague’s funeral — but that colleague is alive and well. The memory faded when I saw them, but for a moment it was absolutely real.
I don’t know what this means.
Entry 15 — 23rd of Summertide, 891 SW
I found Dr. Thalis in the abandoned west laboratory. She had covered every surface with notations — walls, floor, windows, ceiling. Not words exactly, but attempts to map relationships between events. Timelines. Contradictions.
She sat in the center, rocking slowly.
“I’m trying to find the main thread,” she said without looking up. “The original timeline. The one that’s actually real. If I can map all the branches, maybe I can trace back to the trunk.”
“How many versions are you tracking?”
She laughed — that hollow sound I’ve come to dread. “I stopped counting. Hundreds at least. Every decision point creates new contradictions in my memory. Every time I prevent something, I create another set of memories that don’t match the previous ones. And I can’t stop. If I see someone in danger, I have to act. But every time I act, everything fractures further.”
She finally looked at me. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face gaunt.
“I remember your funeral, Corvin. Multiple versions. I remember the rain. I remember carrying your casket. I remember being too devastated to attend. I remember giving the eulogy. I remember your wife collapsing in grief. I remember your brother’s anger. I remember it all — every variation, every detail. And yet here you are, alive. Which means either none of those memories are real, or all of them are real in some way I can’t understand.”
Assessment: Dr. Thalis has reached critical cognitive overload. She’s attempting to create external organizational systems, but the volume of contradictory information exceeds any possible framework.
Personal Note: Among her wall diagrams was a section labeled “Corvin — Timeline Branches.” It listed dozens of ways I might have died, been injured, or suffered — all prevented by her interventions. Next to each was another note about what happened instead.
Fire — survived (warned in time) Illness — survived (changed behavior after warning) Accident — survived (avoided location) Collapse — survived (building evacuated)
And on and on.
She’s been protecting me from dozens of potential disasters, each one leaving her with contradictory memories of both my death and my survival. No wonder she can’t look at me without pain — I remind her of both saving and losing me hundreds of times.
Entry 16 — 7th of Harvestfall, 891 SW
Critical Incident:
Dr. Thalis experienced complete cognitive collapse during our session today. I was present for the entire event.
We were in my office when she suddenly froze mid-sentence.
“It’s happening again,” she whispered. “Another memory. I’m seeing—”
Her eyes went distant. When she spoke again, her voice was mechanical, listing items with increasing speed:
“Fire in the east wing. No, earthquake. No, both. Neither. You take the position. You decline. I warn you. You don’t listen. You listen. We both survive. You survive alone. I survive alone. We both die. The research continues. The research is lost. Someone finds it. No one finds it. Three students die. Five students. No students. Everyone—”
She continued for nearly ten minutes, listing contradictory outcomes with accelerating desperation. She began speaking multiple scenarios simultaneously, her words overlapping:
“You live and you die and you leave and you stay and you have children and you don’t and you remember me and you forget me and—”
She collapsed.
When she regained consciousness, she couldn’t speak coherently. She would begin a sentence from one memory and end it with another, creating impossible combinations. “The fire was yesterday tomorrow never always.”
Medical Response: Physicians found no physical cause. Brain function appears normal. No evidence of stroke or seizure. Yet she remains unable to maintain coherence in any single timeline.
Current Status: Dr. Thalis has been admitted to the medical ward and sedated. Even under sedation, she mutters — fragments of warnings, apologies for actions in other timelines, descriptions of events that may or may not occur.
Personal Note: As they took her away, she grabbed my hand. For one moment, her eyes cleared.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I tried to save you. In every version, I tried. But I can’t remember anymore if I succeeded. If you die... if something I didn’t prevent... I’m sorry.”
She thinks she’s simultaneously saved and failed to save me hundreds of times. She can no longer tell which timeline she’s in.
I don’t know how to tell her that in this timeline — the only one that matters — I’m fine.
Entry 17 — 29th of Harvestfall, 891 SW
Day 22 of Admission
Dr. Thalis remains in the medical ward. Her condition continues to deteriorate.
She no longer speaks in linear sentences. Her language has fractured into what I can only describe as parallel streams — multiple overlapping narratives occurring simultaneously. She’ll describe an event, then shift to a different version mid-word, then to a third version, all blending together incomprehensibly.
Example from yesterday (transcribed as accurately as possible):
“Morning Corvin never came but you’re angry understanding about the research which we didn’t argue except you called me right about everything and it’s Wednesday tomorrow last year never...”
Progressive Deterioration Categories:
Temporal Collapse: No distinction between past, present, future. All time periods exist simultaneously in her memory.
Narrative Fragmentation: Cannot complete any single account without jumping to contradictory versions.
Identity Diffusion: Refers to different versions of herself as though they’re separate people she all simultaneously is.
Memory Accumulation: Continues to acquire new future-memories, adding to the already impossible load.
Physician Notes: Dr. Vess has recommended more aggressive intervention. I’ve advised against it. This isn’t illness in any conventional sense. This is someone experiencing the weight of infinite contradictory realities with no way to organize or compartmentalize the information.
The ability she accessed showed her actual futures — not possibilities, but certainties. When she changed those futures, both versions remained real in her memory. Her consciousness accumulated hundreds of contradictory memories with no framework to integrate them.
She needed something she didn’t have. Some technique, some knowledge, some framework that might have made this survivable. But she never found it. Or found it too late. Or found it in timelines she can no longer access.
Personal Note: I’ve stopped trying to maintain clinical distance. This isn’t a case study anymore. This is watching someone I care about dissolve into infinite versions of themselves, each one equally real, none able to maintain coherence.
Entry 18 — 18th of Winterdark, 891 SW
Day 89 of Admission
I no longer maintain formal clinical observations. There is nothing clinical about this.
Dr. Thalis no longer speaks. She exists in a state of pure simultaneity — experiencing all timelines at once with no anchor to any single one. Her eyes move constantly, tracking things I cannot see. Her hands gesture to people who aren’t there. Her lips move, forming words from dozens of conversations happening across multiple versions of reality.
The physicians ask what we’re treating. I have no answer. This isn’t disease. This is someone who accessed knowledge they had no framework to process.
She saw too much. Changed too much. Saved too many people. Her compassion doomed her — unable to see tragedy without preventing it, unable to prevent it without accumulating more contradictory memories.
Final Assessment:
Dr. Maren Thalis accessed an ability to remember actual future events. Without protective techniques — techniques she has only fragmentary memories of from timelines where she learned them — she accumulated contradictory memories each time she changed a future she’d remembered.
Over six months, she:
Prevented dozens of catastrophic events
Saved countless lives (including mine, multiple times)
Accumulated hundreds of equally-real, mutually-contradictory memories
Lost the ability to distinguish which memories belong to which timeline
Lost coherent sense of self across contradictory versions
Lost ability to communicate or function
She is conscious. The physicians assure me of this. But conscious of what? She exists simultaneously in all versions of reality she’s created through her interventions, unable to maintain presence in any single one.
Personal Observation:
I visit daily, though she no longer recognizes me. Or she recognizes hundreds of versions of me simultaneously and cannot focus on which one I am in this moment.
Sometimes she reaches for me. Sometimes she flinches away. Sometimes she smiles. Sometimes she weeps. All reactions happening at once, each one a response to a different version of me from a different timeline.
Conclusion:
There is no treatment. No cure. No intervention that can organize the chaos of infinite contradictory realities accumulated in a single consciousness.
Dr. Thalis gained the ability to save people from disasters before they occurred. She used it selflessly, repeatedly, without understanding the cost. Each prevention created new memories that contradicted previous ones. Each act of compassion fractured her reality further.
She saved me. Possibly dozens of times. Prevented my death, my suffering, my loss. I am alive because she saw futures where I wasn’t and acted to change them.
The price was her coherence, her identity, her sanity, her self.
She needed knowledge she never found.
Instead, she had only compassion, scientific curiosity, and the methodical discipline of a researcher who thought careful observation would be enough.
It wasn’t.
Entry 19 — 3rd of Frostmarch, 892 SW
One Year Since Initial Report
Dr. Thalis remains in the medical ward. Her condition is stable, which is to say, unchanged. She exists in some state beyond madness — not insane, but scattered across so many contradictory memories that coherent consciousness cannot form.
I continue to visit. I don’t know if she knows I’m there.
Today I brought her research notes — the ones from before this began. Her handwriting was steady then. Her observations clear. Her methodology impeccable.
She was brilliant. Careful. Methodical.
She thought scientific rigor would protect her.
It didn’t.
My wife has stopped asking when I’ll come home at reasonable hours. She sees the toll this is taking. Last night she held me while I wept for a friend who is not dead but is no longer truly alive either.
Final Note:
I am writing a comprehensive report on Dr. Thalis’s case for the University archives. Not as a warning — I don’t know that anyone else will ever encounter what she encountered. But as a record. An acknowledgment.
Dr. Maren Thalis discovered something real. Something that exists beyond our current understanding. She accessed it carefully, documented it thoroughly, and used it compassionately.
And it destroyed her.
Not because she was careless or reckless or mad. But because she encountered something no human consciousness was designed to hold, and she had no framework to contain it.
She saved so many people. She changed so many futures. She prevented so much suffering.
The cost was her mind, her identity, her self — scattered across infinite contradictory versions of reality, unable to find her way back to any single one.
I am alive because of her. My colleagues are alive because of her. Students she barely knew are alive because of her.
She saw every disaster coming and prevented them all.
But she couldn’t prevent what was happening to herself.
Personal Note:
Sometimes, in the quiet of early morning when I’m alone in my office, I find myself remembering things that didn’t happen. A fire I died in. An illness I didn’t survive. A collapse that took me.
These aren’t my memories. But they feel real.
I think, in some way I don’t understand, Dr. Thalis is still saving me. Still warning me. Still reaching across from wherever she is — scattered among all those contradictory realities — to keep me safe.
I owe her everything.
And I can do nothing for her.
Addendum — 15th of Frostmarch, 892 SW
I have discontinued my visits to Dr. Thalis. The physicians suggested it might be better — for both of us.
But I’ve begun compiling everything: her research notes, my observations, my colleagues’ observations, cross-references, testimonies from those she saved. Everything that documents what happened.
Not because I think anyone can help her. It’s too late for that.
But because someone needs to know what she discovered. What she accessed. What it cost.
Someone needs to know that Dr. Maren Thalis was brilliant and compassionate and brave. That she used an impossible ability to save people. That she sacrificed her coherence, her sanity, her very self to prevent suffering.
Someone needs to know that she did everything right — was methodical, careful, scientific in her approach — and it still wasn’t enough.
Some knowledge requires more than intelligence to handle. More than caution. More than discipline.
Dr. Thalis found that knowledge.
And it scattered her across infinite realities, each one real, none able to cohere.
She is not mad.
She is not lost.
She is everywhen and nowhen — experiencing every version of every prevented disaster simultaneously, unable to anchor to any single timeline.
I was her colleague. Her friend.
I am alive because of her.
And I am the only witness to what it cost.
This is my testimony. My memorial. My acknowledgment.
Dr. Maren Thalis saved the world, one prevented disaster at a time.
And the world will never know.
End of Record
Dr. Corvin Alde, Associate Researcher
University of Aeridor, Department of Metaphysical Studies
15th of Frostmarch, 892 SW