(Additional Warning: the fact stated above remains subject to change, reversal, and/or invalidation depending on this article's progression.)

translocation

Description:

Level 269 takes the form of a dark, dreary graveyard with moonlight glowing through the clouds overhead. It is surrounded on all sides by a dense evergreen forest, stretching out for many miles.

The stars in the night sky do not match any of those seen on Earth, or any other planet in the solar system. Many display unique characteristics, such as abnormal color or size. All of the points in the sky show some artifact of atmospheric interference ("twinkling"), meaning there are no other planets in this cosmos. Level 269 is alone.

Various entities may spawn within this level's graves. They pose no danger to any wanderers that may end up here. They all leave shortly after emerging, exiting through the woods once their transformation is complete. The gravestones are marked with their former names, the ones long since forgotten in their world, the ones that never existed in this one.

As a matter of fact, despite its Class 3 designation, Level 269 poses no danger to wanderers. It is only hostile to humans.

Level 269 is the first level of the backrooms, and as such, its forest leads to most other levels. Notably, levels without some sort of entity habitation (excluding humans or other such sapient beings) cannot be reached from here.

Despite the coldness of the night sky, the air is laced with a sickening warmth that calls back to a better time, before our minds were invaded by vast stretches of deserted hallways.
Some have reported seeing a familiar door off in the woods, slightly ajar with a golden light spilling out. It is unattainable, and will disappear before you can reach it, like all other hope does eventually.

How did you end up here? What strange set of circumstances shunted you into the vast darkness?

Let's think back.

I'm awake, but I can't open my eyes.

I try to reach for my face, but my arms are stuck. My legs are stuck.

It's hard to move when you're under six feet of dirt.

The panic starts to set in. I strain against the soil, pushing myself up through the ground. The earth above me starts to shift and give way, allowing me to reach up to the surface and drag myself out.

Climbing upwards, I take a deep breath and look around to get my bearings. I try to think back to how I got here. The last I remember, I was just in my room reading a story about a dark moonlit graveyard.

And here I am, in a dark moonlit graveyard.

The gravestone in front of me bears my own name, just like the page said it would.

I shouldn't be here. This can't be real. This is fiction.

My chest feels weird. There's too much pressure underneath my skin, as if my blood was drained and replaced with molasses.

I look down at my hands. They're not there. I can feel them, but I can't see them. There's a slight glow on the soil in front of me, as if my face was emitting light. Something about that catches in my memory, a glowing smile with no hands. The memory drives a spike of dread into my heart.

I remove the rest of my body from the grave.

I'm not supposed to be this tall. I'm not supposed to have this many joints.

I'm supposed to remember my name.

I barely have time to panic as my new body shifts to all fours and begins lumbering away on its own accord. Already, I can feel my mind fading to a dull burn in the back of its head, just a light reminder that once, there was a real world. There was a place where everything was warm and safe, the graveyard didn't exist, and I was just a normal person.

The only thought I have the capacity to think anymore is a quiet foreboding, as I watch myself bound into the woods.