Entity #009 - ∴/∴/██24

Description

Entity #009 refers to a strange, possibly self-aware game that exists in the Roblox platform. It first appeared suddenly on the front page, staying there for about one to two weeks before disappearing without any official statement, moderation logs, or community chatter. Despite no longer being publicly listed, the game is still accessible through a direct link. Strangely, attempts to share the link often fail. Some users report broken URLs, browser crashes, or even forgetting they ever had the link in the first place. The game's thumbnail is completely black. Not dark or obscured—pure, empty black. No matter what tools are used, nothing shows up. There’s no metadata, no hidden layers, no information at all. The game’s name shifts every time the page is refreshed. Sometimes it's gibberish, sometimes it mimics popular Roblox games with slight, unsettling differences. Names like “Adopt//ME//AGAIN” or “Natural/Disaster/Salvation” show up frequently, just familiar enough to draw attention, but off enough to feel wrong.

Descriptions, icons, and even the structure of the game change on every visit. No two people see the exact same thing. Some players are dropped into a completely empty void, while others end up in twisted versions of known games. There are always errors—unblinking NPCs with no faces, music that loops with distorted, reversed audio, rooms with slowly spinning walls that seem to close in over time. The developer is always listed as “∴/∴/██24.” No such username exists. Searching for it leads to broken pages, suspended accounts, or blank profiles that vanish once accessed.

Joining the game always starts the same way. You're placed on a featureless baseplate, with no visible exits or interactable objects. The skybox is immediately recognizable due to its overwhelming color saturation, often flashing in deep reds, nauseating greens, or bright whites. The sky isn’t still—it moves in erratic, unnatural pulses. Some have compared it to living tissue or television static. Players often report motion sickness, vertigo, and migraines, with some symptoms lingering for hours after leaving the game. At the center of the map is a single boombox. No matter where you walk, it always faces you. You can’t interact with it, but it constantly emits a looping audio track of warped chants. The language is unknown. Every linguistic attempt to translate it has failed. Spectrograms of the audio sometimes reveal bizarre visual patterns—symbols resembling alchemical markings, unscannable QR codes, or shapes that look vaguely like human faces.

Status and Risk

• Status: Dormant
• Risk Level: 4 - Extremely Hazardous