Holder of the Wheel

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of the Wheel." The worker will promptly call for security, causing two large, muscular men wearing white to appear instantly and drag you away. Do not resist them.

The security men will drag you through many, many hallways and rooms, each getting darker and unkempt as you progress. Anybody else who walks by will turn away and hide his face upon seeing you. Should any of them instead look you directly in the eye, immediately shout at him, "My card has yet to be drawn!" If the patient or staffer then walks up to you to touch you, then it has been set in motion; success was not in your future. It would be best to just close your eyes, rather than witness the horror of the tearing of your limbs.

If the person walks away, you are safe. The security men will drag you along until you have reached a damp and dirty cell in a long-abandoned section of the institution. The men will shove you inside and lock the door behind you. It will be dark as pitch. The walls will be dripping with blood from the previous seekers that have tried and failed to recover this particular holder's object. You cannot see it in the dark, but you will be able to hear the incessant dripping. Walk forward. As you get closer, the center of the room will gradually brighten, though the walls will still be in shadow. In the center of the room is a gigantic wheel contraption, spanning nearly half the room, with prayer cards inscribed in a forgotten language at the end of every spoke. An ancient-looking, dark-skinned man will be seated near the wheel in the center of the room, slowly turning the wheel with his hand. Ask him, "For whom does the wheel turn?"

If the old man does not deem you worthy, he will simply stop turning the wheel and look at you. His thoughtful, understanding gaze will slowly turn into that of hatred and loathing. His gaze will slowly tear apart your very existence, ripping apart every fiber of your insolent soul, thoroughly bathing the room in another fresh coat of crimson.

If, however, the old man does in fact deem you worthy, he stop the wheel and pull a card from it. After carefully folding it, close your eyes and he will hand it to you. Keep your eyes closed until you feel something tap your right shoulder. You will still be holding the card but you will be outside of the mental institution or halfway house that you entered earlier, except now, no matter what time you entered, it will be dusk.

You may now look at the card. The card will have an intricate image of a small child, hanging by the neck by a noose in a courtyard. On the back, the card will be blank except for a small symbol in the corner in the same forgotten language that is on the front.

That card is Object 141 of 538. Its meaning will be clear only when they come together, though it spells disaster for us all.