Initial Hook: A boutique design firm somehow generated an energy spike in excess of 5 million megawatts (the equivalent of the daily output of a nuclear generator), temporarily overloading the power grid of Los Angeles. A few hours later, it did it again. The program hastily arranged a cover with the Department of Energy and scrambled some vetted agents to respond. The working group needs to determine if an unnatural threat is present, what it might be, and how to stop it.

What Happened: Odyssey Onward Design unknowingly created an inter-dimensional hazard when they fed a few pixels depicting the Yellow Sign to a machine learning AI, then asked it design a chair. This spawned The Eidolon, a cancerous imago of the Platonic chair - a chair so chairy in its incredible chairness that it overwhelms exposed human minds, devouring their consciousness as it drags them toward the "throne" of Carcosa.

The Odyessy Onward firm is already lost, their minds and identities inextricably merged with the eidolon. But if Delta Green doesn't respond soon, they might post an image of the eidolon on the Internet before they dragged into the mad cosmic foam.

En Route Briefing: Agents are briefed in the parking lot of Jumbo's Clown Room on Hollywood Blvd. in Los Angeles.

16 hours ago, at about 11 PM, a specialized Program monitoring system, codenamed MANNA, detected a 6 million megawatt influx in Los Angeles' power grid. It originated from an office building on the Venice Beach. The building is equipped with commercial solar panels, but not nearly enough to generate such an enormous spike. Another spike occurred at 8 AM, then again 1 hour ago. Agents are to investigate the offices of Odyessy Onward Design, determine what caused the energy spikes and whether they are unnatural in nature. If they are, they need to put a stop to it and sanitize the site.

Bonner gives them: The Agents have clearance under the cover of an inspection team for the Department of Energy tasked with reviewing the site and its records for wrongdoing. There may be specific documents or pieces of technology in the facility that this clearance does not cover. The Agents will have to make do. These cover identities were constructed in a hurry, borrowing names and employee numbers of retired or deceased DOE employees. They won’t stand up to sustained investigation.

Their investigation is classified as "ATLAS WEST,"  such that no real DOE agent can come near it without risking prison, let alone police or private citizens— only the agent (or more accurately their false identities) are cleared for "ATLAS WEST." If any DOE personnel contact you, reference "ATLAS WEST" to get them off your back. Bonner warns
that if an emergency at the site attracts first responders, there’s no telling whether they will obey that restriction.

The Agents have an unmarked DOE-issued sedan and an unmarked DOE-issued cargo van. In the car trunk, they find DOE service pistols (.40 semi-automatic; 1D10 damage) with three extra magazines each, issued with licenses in the names of their cover identities, and two handheld Geiger counters. In the trunk of the car is a medical bag with an electronic personal dosimeter, a first aid kit, and medicines for radiation poisoning (potassium iodide, Prussian blue capsules, DTPA with IV bags and nebulizer, filgrastim with syringes). The don't suspect dangerous sources of radiation, Delta Green wants the agents to be able to protect themselves if they find something strange, and it wasn't hard to procure as part of the DOE cover.

Bonner also gives them a burner phone to contact him. Beyond this, they have very little information to go on.

The Servers: The servers are utterly ordinary except for the reference image bearing the Yellow Sign that was uploaded to the AI test. They are only a danger if Clara Avery manages to keep them running long enough to upload an image...

The Eidolon: When they asked the new AI to design a chair, it scanned its reference materials and encountered the Yellow Sign scrawled into an ornate 12th century velvet-trimmed wingback. From this it was able to extrapolate higher hypergeometric principles and build the "ideal" chair as instructed. Though it only exists as an image pinned to the meeting room wall, it is hazardous to any human who perceives it.

Anyone who looks at the eidolon or a duplicate image of the eidolon is affected by it. Every time they enter a new room, roll a d100 and compare the result on the table below. Affected individuals will bring those traveling with them to the interdimensional spaces, though will otherwise just seem to disappear from view.

The eidolon encourages affected people to linger near it. Every 30 minutes or so in the presence of the eidolon forces a 1/1d2 SAN test. Failure also causes them to lose 1 WP. Those reduced to 0 WP while in the eidolon's presence are catatonic and begin behaving as chairs until removed from its presence and allowed to recover at least 2 WP. Those reduced to 0 SAN are drawn permanently into the throne room of Carcosa.

Odyssey Onward Design: The design firm is a flash-in-the-pan "Silicon Beach" startup with a too-expensive office in Venice. Their office is equipped with modest commercial solar panels in an attempt to be carbon zero, which allows them to feed energy back into the grid - explaining but not really explaining the inexplicable energy spike.

Their business model is based around customers downloading an app, taking pictures of items that inspire them or meet their design goals, then sending that information to Odyssey Onward for their "AI Artist" to aggregate into a selection of coherent, inventive designs. Ultimately the goal is for 3D printing technology to allow for the custom to instantly order and construct the design of their choice, but the various Vice articles and blog posts the agents find their preliminary research fully admit that Odyssey Onward  is waiting for others to perfect 3D printing before attempting it themselves.

Accounting of 60% or higher will reveal that this is a very typical start-up. A successful Accounting roll or Accounting of 70% or higher will reveal that Odyessy Onward is bloated on venture capital money, badly mismanaged with a muddled business strategy dependent on still-in-development technology, and very likely to fail.

None of the employees have any familiarity with the occult, and only Anita Reyes has any inkling as to the cause. They are innocent bystanders, consumed by the horrors they unwittingly unleashed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:39, Thu 21 May 2020.

The Staff of Odyssey Onward Design

Vivian, Receptionist. Cold, alien, model-gorgeous and unimpressed with you. Stays in the lobby, save to escort the agents directly to the board room with the eidolon. Notable for being the only uninfected.
Alec Carpenter, Founder and CEO. Wears the most expensive business casual you've ever seen. Rich yuppie who thinks he's brilliant. Doesn't understand his business model is stupid.
Isaiah West, Lead Designer. An elegantly if slightly anachronistically dressed African American man, he's the human "filter" to the Artist's designs. A well-regarded architect and designer.
Danica Parks, CFO. All business and pantsuits, she sees this job as a paycheck and intends to milk that venture capital money for all its worth. A recent "believer."
Kerrigan Carter, Chief Engineer. A brilliant and wheelchair-bound computer scientist, she built the Artist AI and is in charge of maintaining the severs, the website, building the app, and figuring out that whole 3D printing thing. She has a lot on her plate. Since the eidolon was created, she has been holed up in the server room, trying to cobble together enough processing power to upload an image of it to the website.
Carlos Velasquez, Fulfillment Coordinator. Really a carpenter. He custom-builds the furniture, or contracts out what he can't build himself. Thinks the 3D printing idea is dumb, and feels his job is secure.
Anita Reyes, Data Analyst. Title doesn't really apply to her job, as she's more of an intern. Was inspired by Isaiah West. Submitted the file with the Yellow Sign and suspects that may be the cause, but isn't sure. A historical nerd with a passion for medieval art and artifacts, particularly furniture.

Layout of Odyssey Onward Offices
Everything is glass. Ultra-modern looking. Too expensive.

SHOW ROOM: Displaying some of Isaiah West's old work behind glass cases. Most is modern-looking, all sharp corners, bright colors and strange planes. A few are more ornate and carved from wood, showing a range or styles and technical skills.
LOBBY: Vivian is posted here and will rigorously question anyone who enters. She folds for the DoE cover story, however.
ATRIUM: The central hub of the offices is a wide-open area with a skylight looking directly at the sky. There are ping-pong and Foosball tables strewn about, comfy couches, and the like. There are also tools and bags of plaster; the area is still under construction. Infected individuals who look up at the sky lose 1/1d4 SAN - they perceive it to be night, with strange constellations that all seem to look like chairs.
SERVER ROOM: Kerrigan is posted here, frantically soldering together motherboards and typing away at her laptop. In a certain sense, this is the real threat that must be stopped, as the rest of the incursion is a self-correcting problem that can be fixed with quarantine.
CUBICLE ROWS: Rows of humble cubicles, for a planning customer service department once the site is live. Mostly still under construction.
BREAK ROOM AND STORAGE: Contains mundane office supplies and a Keurig machine.
MEETING ROOM AND EXECUTIVE OFFICES: Contains the offices of most of the employees and a large meeting room. In this meeting room sits the eidolon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:38, Sun 03 May 2020.

The Rules of Chair-Space
Anyone cursed by the eidolon is considered "infected." Every time they leave one room in the Odyessy Onward Design building and enter another, roll on the table below. On a roll of 01-05, they enter the space as normal. On any other roll, they actually enter a warped parallel version of the room - the higher the roll, the more alien the room analogue is.

Observers will see the infected person "stutter" and then disappear. If they are infected themselves, the person will seem to blink in and out of existence, replaced by a chair, for a few moments before disappearing. Anyone who travels with an infected person into another room is "dragged along" with them, but does not become infected unless exposed to the eidolon or an image of it.

When an infected person crosses a threshold, roll on the table below. If the result is marked with an asterisk (*) the room is difficult to traverse in some way. If unspecified, assume it requires Navigation at -20% or Unnatural to successfully leave the room and enter the next. Crit succeeding on any SAN effects below allow agents to gain 1d4 Unnatural for free (no attributed SAN loss) as they temporarily understand the strange geometry of the room and learn to apply it to unnatural truths.

Going closer to the eidolon never requires a check, or checks seem to inexplicably succeed. The eidolon functions a bit like an antlion in a sand trap, trying to force its victims to take the path of least resistance and tumble into its maw.

Anyone reduced to 0 WP and abandoned by allies will awake an hour later, dragged a room closer to the eidolon by a chair-thing.

01-05: NORMALCY The room presents exactly as one would expect it.
06-10: EGO DRIFT In this room, every human being is perceived to be an eerily floating chair. Odyssey Onward employees do not comment on or notice this. 1/1d4 SAN the first time this is experienced.
*11-15: SPATIAL WARPING Angles seem strange, unexplained anxiety, vertigo, nausea. 0/1 SAN the first time this is experienced, if no other strange things have been encountered yet.
*16-20: STORAGE The room is normal but filled wall-to-wall with an impossible jumble of mundane chairs. Slogging through the chairs with Navigation or STR costs 1d4 WP and is perceived to take hours.
* 21-25: EXPONENTIAL CHAIRS The door to the next room opens to a copy of the room the infected individual is standing in, but with double the number of chairs. The room repeats and the chairs increase exponentially until every infected person succeeds on a POW/luck test. Every room after the third drains 1 WP to traverse, as the rooms grow larger and more cavernous, and crowded with an ever-increasing tangle of chairs.
* 26-30: BLOOM The room appears normal at first, but as attempts are made to move away from the eidolon, strange chair-like protuberances bloom from the floor, walls and ceiling. They pulse and quiver, and human beings have an overwhelming urge to sit on them. POW to resist. "Sitting" causes the chair to slither and "merge" into the sitter, inflicting 0/1 SAN on witnesses and 1/1d4 on the sitter.
* 35-40: HIGHCHAIR FOREST The room has an impossibly tall ceiling and is filled with chairs with incredibly long, stilt-like legs. Strange humanoid shapes scrabble and leap from the canopy of high-chair seats above you. 0/1 SAN if looking up. Failed Navigation brings a chair-thing crashing down.
41-45: ROLE REVERSAL Room is normal except all furniture has been replaced with humans acting as furniture. Limbs are broken and re-arranged as needed. Some of the furniture is still alive, but catatonic. 1/1d4 SAN.
46-50: AMBUSH An out of place chair sitting in the room morphs into a chair-thing. It will attack the party, trying to drag the person with the lowest SAN toward the Eidolon.
* 51-55: TILLINGHAST CHAIRS Room appears relatively normal, but with spectral folding chairs swimming through the air, extending and folding like jellyfish. Touching one inflicts 1d6 damage as what feels like impossible heat sheers away digits and limbs. DEX to avoid all of them.
*56-60: THE THRONE The room is an impossibly large chamber with an ornate throne against one wall. Mummified human corpses bow in supplication to the empty throne. 0/1d4 SAN. Lingering here or messing with the mummies will cause them to stand up and attack (treat as chair-things). The mummies will seek to force humans onto the throne. Sitting on the throne forces a 1d6/1d20 SAN test. Successfully leaving the area involves navigating a system of tunnels filled with more of the mummies.
61-65: SISYPHUS The room is instead a dark and sharply angled surface. The outside world is painfully "uphill" but downhill leads back to the Eidolon. The ground seems to be made of a flaky gray stone, shale or similar, but when it crumbles the fragments are all shaped like chairs. STR or CON to scrabble up the surface, with 1 WP spent per attempt.
* 66-70: CHAIRS A CROWD The room is normal but swarms of humans with chairs for heads emerge from every possible entrance, seeking to pin normal humans to the ground and drag them further towards the Eidolon. Some are dressed in clothing identical to other humans in the room. Some are dressed in Ikea uniforms. Some are naked, with smooth chair-shaped protrusions where their genitals should be. They are always a number of chair-things in the room equal to the number of infected - 1, minimum 1.
71-75: CONTAGION Room appears as normal, however infected individuals must make a CON test when entering this room. On a failure, they morph into chair-things, losing 1d6/1d10 SAN and inflicting 1d4/1d8 SAN on anyone witnessing it. When transformed into a chair-thing, they will desperately try to scrabble back toward the eidolon. They will regain their human form and change back once they enter or are forced into another room. Infected individuals who succeed on this test will vomit an inky black substance, clearing themselves of the infection. However, this substance will infect anyone who looks at it as it reforms into an image of the eidolon.
*76-80: OLD SPARKY The room opens inexplicably to what seems to be death row in a maximum security prison. All guards are chair-things. They seek to return infected to their "cells," (the previous room) and direct non-infected to the electric chair. The only way out is to sit on the chair or otherwise kill oneself. The trauma of this inflicts 1d4/1d10 SAN.
*81-85: IKEA HELL The room opens inexplicably to what appears to be the nearby Ikea in Burbank, California. All exits are sealed with concrete. The manager is a chair-thing with knowledge of the one chair which, when sat upon, leads outside. He will only allow people to leave if they either purchase a chair or sell a chair. Selling requires first to find a buyer (confused, helpless individuals wander this endless Ikea store, as well), and then a successful Persuade. Purchasing a chair for yourself damages a Bond of your choice by 1.
*86-90: DINING CHAIRS The room opens to an expansive, upscale restaurant in an unfamiliar city. Human and chair-things dine together, the chair-things ignoring the infected's presence and smearing food onto their mouths. The menu is sinister, unsettling and mildly cannibalistic, but for some reason it is the act of the diners sitting on chairs that fills the observer with revulsion. This cognitive dissonance inflicts 0/1 SAN. The difficulty of this result is that the infected individual is very lost - only by going across the street to "WAY OUT BOOKS" and making a deal with the strange proprietor will get them back to the real world.
91-95: HOME SWEET CHAIR The room inexplicably opens to the childhood home of the infected person with the lowest SAN. 0/1 SAN if they haven't encountered this spatial warping before, but 1/1d4 if it's your home. The person's parent(s) or caretakers have been replaced with chairs. If this parent or caretaker is a Bond it is damaged by 1d4.
96-00: THE THRONE OF AZATHOTH Exactly what it says on the tin. Very bad. d20/d100 SAN
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:19, Mon 04 May 2020.