Jeanne du Blanche sat beside Daniel in the quiet meadow, her white dress glowing softly under the artificial sun of the pocket dimension. Daniel lay on the grass, his breathing finally steady. The blood tears had stopped, and his sanity had slowly climbed back from the brink thanks to her gentle, healing light.
After several hours of deep rest, Daniel opened his eyes. The rampant haze in his mind had cleared, leaving only a lingering ache and a deep sense of clarity.
Jeanne looked at him with quiet compassion.
"You are stable now," she said softly. "But the weight you carry is immense. Before you return to the others, there is something you must know. The truth about the Pantheon."
Daniel sat up slowly, the golden baton resting beside him. "Tell me."
Jeanne's luminous blue eyes grew distant, as if gazing across eons.
"In the beginning, long before any human ever noclipped into the Backrooms, this place was not a labyrinth of horror. It was a realm of pure potential — shaped and governed by the Pantheon, a council of ancient god-like entities. They were not cruel. They were creators. Each one embodied a fundamental aspect of existence: order, chaos, memory, liminality, protection, and more. They watched over the early wanderers with a measure of benevolence."
She paused, her voice turning heavier.
"Then humans arrived in greater numbers. With them came the first systems — tools of survival and power granted by the Pantheon itself to help mortals endure. At first, it was a gift. But power always reveals the truth of the heart."
Jeanne's expression darkened.
"Among the early system users emerged one known only as **System User No. Infinity**. He was not the first, nor the strongest in raw power… but he was the most dangerous. He discovered how to exploit the systems at their deepest level. He began absorbing not just entities, but the very conceptual framework the Pantheon had built. He grew without limit, rewriting rules, corrupting levels, and turning other system users into extensions of his will."
Daniel listened in silence, the weight of her words settling heavily.
"The Pantheon tried to stop him. They intervened directly — something they had rarely done. But their attempts only made things worse. In their desperation to contain No. Infinity, they unleashed forces they could not fully control. Entire levels were destabilized. Countless entities were twisted or destroyed. The very fabric of the Backrooms nearly unraveled. What was once a realm of strange wonder became the endless nightmare we know today."
Jeanne looked directly into Daniel's eyes.
"The Pantheon did not create the horror of the Backrooms out of malice. They nearly destroyed it — and everything within it — because they feared what a single human with unlimited system potential could become. In the end, they fractured. Some gods withdrew. Others were corrupted. A few, like the Red Knight in his original form, tried to protect the innocent. The rest… became distant, broken, or manipulative."
She placed a gentle hand on Daniel's shoulder.
"You, the other Chosen, and the systems themselves… you are both the Pantheon's greatest hope and their greatest fear. They elevated you because they need champions to restore balance. But they also remember what happened with No. Infinity. That is why they watch you so closely. That is why they granted you the Conductor's authority — not just to fight the Party Creators, but to ensure no new 'Infinity' ever rises again."
Daniel stared at the golden baton in his hands.
"So the Pantheon… almost ended everything trying to stop one man."
Jeanne nodded.
"And now they have placed their hopes in you. Be careful, Conductor. Power reveals. The Backrooms has already seen what happens when a system user becomes too strong."
She stood gracefully, offering him her hand.
"Your sanity is restored. The others are waiting. But remember this truth: the greatest threat to the Backrooms has never been the entities or the Party Creators. It has always been what humans — or gods — are willing to do when they fear losing control."
Daniel took her hand and rose.
The meadow began to fade as Jeanne prepared to return them to the others.
The Conductor now carried not only the weight of souls and symphonies, but also the heavy knowledge of the Pantheon's greatest failure.
And somewhere out there, the shadow of System User No. Infinity — or whatever had become of him — still lingered as a warning from the past.