The Architect's Defence

Gerehardt’s final word, “dominion,” hung in the air, heavy with the weight of both the Society's ambition and the ancient purpose of the Nephilim themselves; to be a superior race that would wipe out God's divine creation, man. I looked from the sliver of crystalline bone beneath the microscope- undeniable proof of a reality that denied Darwin.

“The Society will be here within the week, Doctor,” Gerehardt said, stepping away from the oak table, her delicate fists clenched with determination. “They will use your telegram as their justification. They will claim I am spreading anti-scientific heresy. If you show them the full skeleton, they will seize it. If you show them the microscopic proof, they will discredit the morphological impossibility as a fraud and your career will be ruined.” I gripped the edge of the table, my career or the truth?. There was only one answer to that. 

“Then the only logical course is the one that guarantees our continued research. I must tell them, with your permission Miss Gerehardt, that it is a hoax. A geological curiosity, perhaps- a mineral formation mimicking bone- but a hoax all the same.” Gerehardt nodded, a sharp, cold satisfaction in her eyes. 

"Good, then do it! You will lie to protect the truth. But that only secures the physical specimen. We must prepare for what happens when they look for us. My work here, Doctor, is to retrieve the ancestral echoes-the electromagnetic imprint of the world before the Flood. If we can prove that celestial intervention created a biological structure, the Nephilim, that precedes and contradicts Darwin's lineage, we don't just disprove a theory; we re-establish the divine narrative in science. We break the Society's chokehold on the truth!."

"But how does the Magma-scope help us against a telegram and a warrant?" I demanded.

"The Society respects Darwin more than God!." These words were spat out in disgust. "Doctor. If they believe Darwin is safe, they will leave us alone for a time. I have been conducting my own improvements to the Magma-scope since your last visit. It is a sensor, but it is now also a watchdog. Its coils are sensitive enough to track not just stellar frequencies, but terrestrial perturbations- shifts in atmospheric electromagnetism caused by large-scale travel, particularly that of steam-driven locomotives and vessels. I can detect their approach long before they reach Fort William." 

She looked back at me, her confident gaze demanding commitment. "You will draft your report- precise and utterly convincing, dismissing the finding as a mere mineralogical curiosity, thereby protecting your reputation. Meanwhile, I will monitor the currents. We have a brief window, Doctor, to secure our findings and prepare for publication. We will not just whisper this divine truth; we will publish the evidence and watch as the foundation of their entire world crumbles."

Here, beneath the bedrock of , Caisteal Inbhir Lòchaidh the battle lines were drawn, the war between the architectural truth and the Darwinian dogma had begun. The Society would come with it's telegrams and warrants, but we would meet them with shadows, currents, and echoes of a world before the Flood.

I sat down at the huge oak desk in Gerehardt's study, paper and pen before me. I had to convince the Society, no I must convince them! I set pen to paper to draught a report deliberately precise and dismissive.

Royal Society Report

For the Attention of the Fellows of the Royal Society Date: November 18th, 1897 
From: Dr. Thaddeus Wren, Fellow of the Royal Society 

Subject: Geological Curiosity at Caisteal Inbhir Lòchaidh

Abstract

In response to my recent telegram concerning an anomalous specimen recovered near Fort William, I hereby submit my findings. Upon closer examination, the object in question does not constitute biological remains, but rather a mineralogical formation of unusual character.

Observations

The specimen exhibits superficial resemblance to osseous material, including apparent laminar structures.
Microscopic inspection reveals crystalline lattices inconsistent with any known Haversian system.
Density and morphology suggest silicate or carbonate deposition, mimicking bone in form but not in substance.
No organic residues, marrow traces, or vascular channels were detected.

Conclusion

The specimen is a geological curiosity, a mineral formation whose resemblance to human anatomy is striking but ultimately deceptive. While noteworthy as a natural oddity, it does not warrant further anatomical investigation.

I caution against sensational interpretations. The resemblance to skeletal form is coincidental, and any claims of “giant remains” or “Nephilim relics” are unfounded. I recommend the matter be closed, save for cataloguing the specimen as a mineralogical anomaly.

Respectfully submitted, Dr. Thaddeus Wren. M.D.F.R.S.

I signed the report with my full name, Thaddeus Wren, M.D.F.R.S., lending the full, established weight of my reputation to this fabrication. I sealed the final report with a precise stamp of hot wax, nothing but a meaningless official gesture now applied to the greatest lie of my career. The document confirmed my earlier telegram: the Nephilim skeleton was a "mineralogical fraud," and Miss. Gerehardt, just a harmless crank, though it pains me to name that.

“This must be dispatched by the fastest available courier, Seonaid,” I instructed, handing the heavy envelope to her in the grand hall. This was no ordinary errand; the truth of our work, and indeed my own liberty, rested upon this single piece of paper reaching the Society without delay or suspicion. She received it with her usual economy of movement, her gaze sweeping over the looming shadows cast by the great skeleton. There was no question in her eyes, only absolute fidelity. 

“Ach. The Sassenachs will be satisfied, then, Doctor?” Her rolling dialect held a dry irony I now understood perfectly. 

“They will be reassured, Seonaid,” I corrected, pressing a handful of sovereigns into her hand. “They will be assured that the principles of Mr. Darwin remain undisturbed, and that the only thing requiring disposal is Miss. Gerehardt’s unfortunate taste in curios.” 

“Aye,” she murmured, tucking the envelope safely into her apron and the gold into a pocket. “I’ll take it down to the station myself now. And thee can take their time comin’ up here, thinkin’ we’re just a lot o’ fools.”

With a nod, she disappeared into the kitchen, the heavy outer door closing moments later. I was left standing beneath the enormous, silent sentinel of bone, knowing that the official clock had started. I returned quickly to the vault

Extract from the Private Observations of Dr. Thaddeus Wren

"I confess my conscience is heavy tonight. The report I have dispatched to the Royal Society is a fabrication, a careful construction of mineralogical jargon designed to protect both my reputation and Miss. Gerehardt’s discovery. I wrote of silicate lattices and carbonate deposits, of crystalline mimicry and geological curiosities, all the while knowing that what lay beneath the microscope was no mineral, but bone- bone of a kind that denies Darwin and defies all natural law.

Miss. Gerehardt urged me to this deception, and I cannot deny her logic. Were I to present the truth, the Society would seize the skeleton, discredit the microscopy, and ruin me utterly. Yet in lying, I have bound myself to her cause. The Society believes itself safe, Darwin unchallenged, and so they will leave us be- for now.

Still, I tremble at the duplicity. To deceive the Fellows is to betray the very institution that nurtured my career. And yet, to reveal the truth is to betray science itself, for the truth would be buried under ridicule and denial. Thus I walk a narrow path: a lie to protect the fact, a falsehood to guard the impossible.

The specimen waits in the hall, silent and immense. The microscope waits in the forge below, its lenses ready to show again the crystalline impossibility. And I, Doctor Thaddeus Wren, wait in the shadows, knowing that the Society will come, and when they do, they will find only what I have told them: a hoax. But in these pages, I preserve the truth."

"These further pages are extracted from the private diary of Dr. Wren, again recorded in his own hand, November 1887. With Dr. Wren’s express permission, these entries remain preserved in the archives of the Gerehardt estate. They are presented, not as narrative, but as testimony- an observer’s record of events surrounding the Nephilim specimen.”

                                                  go to Chapter 5- The Sentinel's Warning