Spatium-Coercio House: The Architect’s Final Plan
The moment the heavy, bronze-plated door to Spatium-Coercio House was carefully pushed open, the air rushed out—cold, dense, and heavy with the pervasive, unsettling odor of dry materials, mineral dust, and the sharp scent of heavy metals. The name, combining space/extent with restraint/confinement, perfectly captured the manor’s function: a physical space dedicated to achieving the ultimate truth of structure, now embodying its own absolute termination of form. This abandoned Victorian house was structured not for ordinary living, but for unwavering, controlled geometry, its internal layout a bewildering maze of small, isolated stress-testing cells, soundproofed material analysis chambers, and meticulously designed anti-vibration footings intended to eliminate all external variables that might corrupt a pure structural form.
The final inhabitant was Architect Master Aethel Plane, a brilliant, but intensely reclusive master designer and geometric theorist of the late 19th century. Master Plane’s profession was the study of load, dimension, and the expressive power of form, seeking to codify a single, unified, and perfectly consistent structure that was free of all internal stress, environmental decay, or subjective purpose. His singular obsession, however, was the creation of the ‘Zero Form’—a single, perfect, flawless structure that would, through the absolute synthesis of all known architectural principles, reveal the ultimate, objective truth of space, free of all dimension, volume, or measurable size. After realizing that the very act of creating a structure required a boundary (a limit to the material), proving that absolute, independent volume was impossible, shattering his faith in fixed geometric truth, he retreated to the manor. He dedicated his final years to resolving this single, terrifying goal, believing that the only way to achieve the Zero Form was to understand the ultimate absence of all dimension. His personality was intensely systematic, fearful of inconsistency, and utterly consumed by the pursuit of spatial finality.
The Volume Chamber
Master Plane’s mania culminated in the Volume Chamber. This secure, sealed room was where he spent his final days, not designing, but deconstructing the act of occupying space itself, attempting to define the ultimate objectivity by isolating the point that offered no detectable dimension. His journals, written in a cramped, precise hand that eventually gave way to complex equations concerning non-Euclidean geometry and the theoretical limits of a spatial vacuum, were found sealed inside a hollow metal drawing tube. He stopped trying to define the perfect shape and began trying to define the un-formed, concluding that the only way to achieve the Zero Form was to eliminate the need for any dimension whatsoever. “The wall is a definition; the roof is a burden,” one entry read. “The final structure requires the complete surrender of all space and all boundary. The truth must be a single, self-evident, unstated conclusion, contained in a fundamental, perfect void.”
The house preserves his systematic rigor structurally. Many internal passages are fitted with small, precisely calibrated humidity controls and air pressure regulators built into the walls, now all rusted and frozen, remnants of his attempts to create a universal, absolutely fixed and non-decaying environment for geometric contemplation.
The Final Blueprint in the Abandoned Victorian House
Architect Master Aethel Plane was last heard working in his studio, followed by a sudden, intense sound of heavy brass crushing and wood splintering (from the theodolite and the table) and then immediate, profound silence. He did not leave the manor. The next morning, the studio was cold, the Volume Chamber sealed, and the man was gone. No body was found, and the only evidence was the singular, physical alteration to his final philosophical work.
The ultimate chilling clue is the small hole in the Mylar film. It is the final design—the Zero Form achieved, representing the cessation of all spatial existence and the perfect, objective truth found in a single, un-dimensioned point of pure, absolute nothingness. The broken compass and blank film ensure no further attempt could be made to chart the flawed, dimensional world. This abandoned Victorian House, with its silent chambers and broken tools, stands as a cold, imposing testament to the master architect who pursued the ultimate, pure form of space, and who, in the end, may have successfully defined the Perfect Non-Volume, vanishing into the un-shaped, objective finality that he engineered as his final, terrifying statement of pure existence.
