SPACE ORDIMAN RPG GUIDE
SPACE ORDIMAN RPG BASIC STRUCTIONS
2030 IS THE FINAL DEADLINE
In 1980, something began to move
in the deepest layers of the spiritual plane — silent, precise, and created
with a single purpose: the elimination of humanity. The goal was brutally
simple: to turn Earth into a spiritual fissure, a passage point for entities
that should never reach the physical world. Creatures whose mere presence
corrupts matter, distorts perception, and unravels logic.
Since then, the process has
advanced without interruption. Each year, invisible mechanisms align. And in 2030,
the architect of it all — Ordiman, an entity that emerged from the
Underworld decades earlier — is expected to cross the boundary and trigger the
so-called Great Reset. Once it begins, there is no return. Humanity will
not survive.
Human groups — cults, secret
orders, and infiltrated cells — voluntarily joined the plan. They spread
through institutions, communities, and forgotten zones, acting as bridges
between worlds, weakening defenses and preparing the terrain so that Ordiman’s
arrival occurs without resistance.
Yet not everyone remains passive.
The Ordo Lux, ancient and discreet, has watched this unfolding from the
start. They know the risk, understand what is coming — and know they cannot
face it alone. This is where you enter: infiltrate, observe, map their
actions, and expose the connections keeping the plan active. Every step
matters. Every discovery counts. If the Great Reset is to be stopped, it will
be because of those who walk in the shadows before the shadows consume
everything.
👁️ The Plan
To understand the current crisis,
one must return to 1980. That year marked a singular event in the deepest
strata of the Underworld: an assembly as old as it was nameless, held in a
chamber carved from living darkness.
At the center of the meeting was Nocthyl,
an entity known only through fragmented accounts — always described as a
silhouette of shadow with an impossibly clear voice. Nocthyl presented an advancement
in spiritual containment: a technology capable of imprisoning a consciousness
without it noticing.
According to Nocthyl, by
separating consciousness from the body and submerging it in enriched plasma, it
was possible to create an entirely simulated reality. The consciousness would
believe it lived normally, while its vital energy was harvested continuously,
without resistance or pain.
The goal was not punishment.
It was extraction.
During the meeting, Nocthyl
proposed expanding the technique into the material plane. For that, they needed
a physical anchor point — and they chose Earth. The decision was
strategic: due to its spatial alignment with Saturn, a threshold between
the dense and subtle worlds. Saturn functions as a transition key; there, laws
can be bypassed, allowing low-vibration entities — banished for ages — to find
an alternative route to materialization.
Thus began the project that would
culminate in the infiltration of cults, interference in institutions, and the
gradual preparation for Ordiman’s return in 2030.
Now the cycle nears its end. The
only question is whether anyone will intervene before the final barrier between
planes breaks.
👁️ Ordiman
Shortly after the 1980 assembly,
Ordiman began ascending from the deepest layers of the abyss. Records do not
describe it as a single being but as a spiritual colony so vast and intricate
that calling it an “entity” is insufficient. Ordiman is larger than Earth
itself — an intelligence composed of obsessive fragments acting in complete
unison.
Its route toward the planet was
charted decades ago, with arrival estimated for 2030. The Ordo Lux
archives describe two phases:
First phase: the extinction of
humanity.
A sudden discharge of thermal, radioactive, and electric energy would destroy
all bodies instantly, without suffering or awareness of death. People would
remain conscious only on the mental plane.
Second phase: the capture.
In this disembodied state, Ordiman projects apocalyptic simulations — intense
visions that disorient and break mental resistance. At the peak of panic, the
entity presents itself as a savior. When a spirit seeks this “refuge,” the
process becomes irreversible: consciousness is suspended and the individual is
transferred into one of Ordiman’s internal realities.
There, the person awakens
believing they are alive, living a normal and productive existence, never
suspecting they are part of the organism.
The apparent salvation is, in truth, perfect
containment.
👁️ Sects
On
Earth, none of this developed in isolation. Various cults, occult orders, and
clandestine networks collaborate directly with the forces preceding Ordiman’s
arrival. They share no origin, culture, or doctrine — only the final goal: prepare the planet.
They
have influenced events for decades. Catastrophes once considered sudden or
poorly explained bear the marks of their interference. Their role is twofold:
to provoke global instability and generate intense emotional charge. Fear,
grief, and disorientation feed Earth’s psychic field, making it more compatible
with the low-vibration entities seeking to cross over.
But
their work is not only physical. In the digital plane, they manipulate minds on
a massive scale. They plant panic, amplify disinformation, and craft narratives
of perpetual collapse. Every emotional wave shifts the collective frequency.
Every viral crisis shapes the planet for Ordiman’s arrival.
Meanwhile, manifestations of his approach are already occurring.
The phenomenon known as 3I/ATLAS
— regarded by science as an energetic anomaly — is, according to Ordo Lux, the
first physical projection of Ordiman’s mass. A dense reflection crossing
boundaries, triggering magnetic disturbances, digital failures, and unusual
psychological episodes.
These signs are dismissed as technical glitches, yet they follow
a precise sequence.
Most notice nothing. But the few who connect the dots understand:
the plan is nearly complete. And it can only be undone by someone capable of
acting within the darkness from which it was born.
The
Adventure — Womba
In the early 2000s, while the Second Congo War destroyed cities,
families, and borders, the world believed it was witnessing just another brutal
conflict. But beneath the rubble, something far older was awakening. A cult
nearly erased from history — originating in Tanzania — began to surface once
again, silent as a shadow regaining its shape.
Rare witnesses described their movements: priests crossing
countries unnoticed, purchasing entire groups of people not for forced labor or
military training, but for sacrifices dedicated to a god feared even in myth — Wombá.
But Wombá was never a true god. It was merely the disguise of Nocthyl, an entity from the deepest
layers of the Inframundo, nourished by human suffering.
The cult, known as Wombaia,
treated fear as wealth, blood as offering, and pain as sacred energy. Their
rituals tore the borders of reality, allowing fragments of the Inframundo to
seep into the physical world.
Governments claimed to have eradicated the group during the
“Great Witch Hunt” in Tanzania — a purge so violent that entire villages were
burned to ash. Official history frames it as a victory over superstition. The
truth is simpler: the cult was never destroyed. It merely sank deeper into
secrecy.
The Wombaia replaced temples with something far more dangerous:
an occult religion operating in the mental plane, within the psychic field
connecting human fear to the fabric of the cosmos. There, their priests
accessed impossible landscapes — structures of living bone, seas of black
liquid, geometric cities that reassembled themselves like conscious organisms.
And always, at the center of every vision, emerged the same
immense presence: Wombá/Nocthyl,
communicating directly through the mind.
The cult’s lineage stretches back nearly a thousand years. In
1030, an isolated tribe carried out six hundred consecutive days of sacrifices
so atrocious that the psychic field above them ruptured. This tear allowed
Nocthyl to reach the human world for the first time. The tribe’s initial terror
became devotion. They became the first Wombaia, gaining forbidden knowledge,
wielding symbols that vibrated with their own energy, and projecting their
minds into realities no human should ever witness.
Over time, the cult evolved into a secret access system — a
mechanism for opening doors between worlds. Through pain, trance, and mental
expansion, they contacted entities dwelling in the Fissures of Creation, beings that defied reason,
anatomy, and language. Some priests returned unrecognizable yet enlightened;
others vanished forever.
By the 2000s, the Wombaia were a ghostly global network,
influencing wars, manipulating digital panic, and feeding on the despair of
entire populations.
And now, hidden beneath the noise of modern life, their
ceremonies move toward something far greater — a convergence the world is
utterly unprepared to face.
Nocthyl
While
the African continent was consumed by conflict, another narrative unfolded in
the shadows. A group of mercenaries—funded by patrons who did not exist in any
official record—received an unusual mission: recover a missing occult
manuscript known as Ubabu Ukunta.
Within
the subterranean layers of occult lore, the book was not treated as a relic,
but as a weapon. Its texts contained
methods for opening portals between layers of reality, connecting the human
world to entities that did not need armies to dominate. They influenced the Mental Psychospheric Plane, altering
dreams, collective symbols, and intrusive thoughts capable of paralyzing entire
societies.
The
mercenaries knew none of this. But their employers understood that the search
for the Ubabu Ukunta meant entering
territories where reality wavered and ancient rituals still left scars.
The book traced back to an ancestral order that recorded contact
with a deity worshipped in Tanzania as Wombá.
But Wombá was only a facade: its true name was Nocthyl, a creature born from the densest strata of the
Underworld.
It was no god — it was a parasite shaped by ages of chaos,
sustained by terror and the vibrational residue of human pain.
Nocthyl reached Earth thanks to the brutal six-hundred-day ritual
performed by an African population centuries ago. Their psychospheric field was
so deformed that it opened a direct bridge to the Underworld. The community
responsible was destroyed by its own practices, but Nocthyl remained, knitting
itself into the planet over the ages, assuming countless names.
During the African wars, its influence resurfaced. Modern Wombaia
priests, hidden within the turmoil, kidnapped thousands of civilians for ritual
sacrifice. The group’s leader, Kofi,
sought something unprecedented: a single ritual with fifty thousand victims — enough to tear the psychosphere
irreversibly and allow Nocthyl direct access to the physical world.
Transporting that many people to Tanzania was impossible, so Kofi
chose a remote region of the Congo, already saturated with death and trauma.
There, he transformed an abandoned coal mine into a ritual chamber.
Fifty thousand prisoners were packed inside. The entrance was
sealed. A massive fire burned for weeks.
Within the mine, despair spread quickly until the screams ceased.
Witnesses claimed the flames took monstrous shapes and the air vibrated
unnaturally. A priest who attempted to desert was thrown into the fire along
with the captives.
When the burning stopped, the place was no longer the same. The
psychosphere had been ruptured.
Anyone approaching felt nausea, dizziness, and sudden
hallucinations. Locals reported hearing screams carried by the wind and seeing
dark silhouettes with burning eyes emerging between the trees.
The ritual had worked.
Ubabu
Ukunta
For decades, the Ubabu Ukunta
circulated discreetly among private dinners and restricted salons, shown only
to collectors who understood — or pretended to understand — the weight the
manuscript carried.
Anyone who leafed through it reported the same unsettling
sensation: something watching them from behind the words. Voices in impossible
languages, shadows assuming shapes, a pressure behind the eyes that lasted for
hours. Some fell ill. Others went mad. Yet no one dared dispose of the work.
Power, even cursed power, is never discarded.
Everything changed in 2015.
The owner at the time — a discreet Parisian aristocrat — kept the
book locked in the basement of his mansion, protected by steel doors. One
November night, intruders entered without triggering alarms, without breaking
locks, moving through the house as if they knew it intimately.
By morning, nothing had been taken… except the manuscript,
wrapped in a red cloth.
The owner never reported the theft. A year later, he was dead.
Rumors claimed the book had claimed its final price.
The Ubabu Ukunta
resurfaced in the European underworld, sold secretly to a single buyer: Øystein Yngve, a Norwegian fanatic
obsessed with transcending the human condition.
Born into a wealthy family and raised by an occultist mother,
Øystein believed his existence was not a result of conception but of ritual. He
claimed to carry a spark of some forgotten god, waiting to awaken. His personal
history — real or fabricated — connected him to the violent cults of Norwegian
black metal in the 1990s, whose goal was to tear vibrational wounds in reality.
Once he acquired the manuscript, Øystein isolated himself
entirely in a sealed mansion between the fjords. Distant residents reported
strange sounds, a mix of roaring and thunder, and red lights hovering over the
sea.
He spent days reading the Ubabu
Ukunta aloud, surrounded by black candles and distorted music, convinced
he was nearing his divine metamorphosis. His diaries described burning veins,
prophetic dreams, and glimpses of a face in the mirror that was no longer his.
To Øystein, the manuscript did not record the past — it taught ascension.
Behind everything moved Nocthyl, the Underworld entity once worshipped
as Wombá — a cosmic parasite seeking to obtain physical and energetic form on
Earth. If it succeeded, it would tear the planet’s fabric to craft a body made
of bone, metal, blood, and density incompatible with human life.
Worse still would be the invisible impact: the vibrational
contamination of Earth itself.
Every thought, every dream, every breath would carry Nocthyl’s
presence. Humanity would not be annihilated instantly — it would be used.
The entire planet would become a vibrational pasture, its
suffering amplified like a beacon calling other Creatures of the Deep Realm:
predators of consciousness drawn by the scent of a collapsing world.
The Ubabu Ukunta, now in
Øystein’s hands, was no longer an artifact.
It had become a door.
Mission
At the end of 2009, something invisible swept through the mental
layer of reality. For most, it was nothing. But for those tied to an ancient,
fragmented lineage, it felt like an ancestral summons — a pressure from within,
a pulse from something buried in the basements of existence.
This lineage dates back centuries, when an accidental ritual
opened a small rift to the Lower Realm. A presence crossed through and bonded
to the bloodline, silent and watchful. In 2009, it awakened fully and released
its first coordinated pulse — not in words, but in dense, suffocating
frequencies infiltrating dreams, emotions, and thoughts.
Across several countries, individuals experienced sudden panic
attacks, intrusive visions, and the sensation of being watched from inside
their own minds. Ancient cultist cells, long disconnected, began functioning as
a single organism.
Their rituals synchronized, as if commanded by a central force.
The influence also spread through the digital world. Symbols,
distorted audio, and encrypted forums became ritual tools. Dense emotions —
fear, grief, confusion — fed the presence, strengthening its anchor.
From 2010 to 2016, global instability grew quietly, reflecting
the entity’s advance. In 2020, amid global chaos, it achieved partial anchoring
on Earth — not full manifestation, but enough to cling to the planet like a
shadow turning solid.
Since then, cultist activity has intensified. Inexplicable psychological
collapses and collective hallucinations have grown more frequent. Everything
points to a planned event in 2030: a large-scale psychic rupture designed to
permanently connect the Lower Realm to Earth.
Human agents — physical and digital — work to raise the emotional
density needed for this to occur.
Most have no idea what they’re enabling. But a few have seen the
pattern.
And it is these few who must act before the fissure becomes
irreversible.
This is where the players enter.
You take the role of an infiltrator serving the silent Ordo Lux.
Your goal is to penetrate the hidden networks that serve the Lower Realm —
groups that manipulate dense spiritual energies and act as living bridges
between the invisible and the material.
Your mission is active: gather intel, sabotage rituals, dismantle
operations, and when necessary, eliminate threats.
Each task demands deception, stealth, negotiation, or direct
confrontation.
Failure strengthens the forces preparing the great collapse of
2030.
You will walk among the worst humanity has produced — cells that
feed on suffering, cultivate fear, and shelter entities that should never touch
the physical plane.
The war you fight unfolds in both matter and spirit, waged in
alleys, forgotten ruins, clandestine rituals, and psychic frontiers.
The Great Reset
2030
Everything changed in a single heartbeat.
It began with a light dizziness, a pulse behind
the eyes, a barely perceptible shift in inner balance. It lasted less than a
second.
Then people looked up.
And the world stopped.
The sky was no longer sky — it had become a
living tapestry of the cosmos.
Stars shone with impossible sharpness, nebulas
wound across the heavens like rivers of color, and colossal celestial bodies
seemed to hover only a few kilometers above the atmosphere.
It was beautiful enough to hurt.
Holy enough to terrify.
Day and night lost all meaning: every place on
Earth saw the same spectacle. It was as if the atmosphere had been torn away,
exposing humanity to the raw infinite.
For a moment, the entire planet froze. People
cried, fell to their knees, murmured prayers — or simply tried to record the
vision.
Then came the second revelation: nothing
worked.
No phone powered on. No car started. No
satellite responded.
All human technology had died at the same instant, as if the planet had been
unplugged from the future.
The sky had opened.
The universe was looking back.
And humanity understood something simple and terrible: whatever had touched the
heavens had touched everything.
2031
A year passed since that impossible day.
On January 13th, the same vibration rippled
across the world — and the sky opened again.
Galaxies once remote now hung over every
horizon.
But the wonder did not last.
As the firmament shone, the world went dark.
Machines ceased. Power vanished. Communications collapsed. Satellites died.
Within hours, civilization crumbled.
Then came the heat.
Global temperature rose five degrees at once,
turning the equator into a lethal belt. Entire populations migrated toward the
polar regions — the largest migration in history, unrecorded by anyone.
Cities emptied. Nations fell.
Humanity became scattered survivors, trying to rebuild life on a planet that no
longer obeyed old rules.
The only reminder of the world they lost was
the sky — bright, strange, impossibly close.
2034
Four years later, humanity had regressed to
something primitive: improvised tribes, constant violence, chronic hunger.
No one spoke of rebuilding anymore — only
enduring.
Then it appeared.
Against the exposed sky, a gigantic shape
materialized, drifting slowly in the void. A colossal structure was advancing
toward Earth.
Everyone remembered the discovery from July
2025, when a Chilean telescope spotted an object entering the Solar System.
They named it 3I/ATLAS — and for four years, theories multiplied.
Now it was arriving.
To the naked eye, its outline grew sharper:
too large, too symmetrical, too deliberate to be a comet.
Eventually, the truth became undeniable:
it was not natural.
And its final destination was Earth.
2035
By 2035, humanity had reached its lowest point.
Civilization no longer existed; only exhausted survivors remained.
A year earlier, 3I/ATLAS had revealed its true
form. Now it rested near the Moon — larger than Earth itself, yet without
gravity, without pulling tides, without interfering with anything. A colossal
metallic ring, similar to Saturn’s structures, but solid, artificial.
Sometimes points of light traveled along its
surface.
But most of the time, it remained still.
Until mid-2035, when everything changed.
The structure flashed all at once, as if a
planet-sized engine had awakened, and it moved toward Earth, dominating most of
the sky.
Humanity watched — afraid, but resigned. Years
of suffering had erased any hope.
Then the tubes descended.
Gigantic metallic conduits pierced the planet
across all continents. Each was the size of a skyscraper, ending at ground
level with a single electronic door that opened whenever someone approached.
Above the entrance, one word glowed:
“ORDIMAN.”
Inside, all the interiors were identical:
a white, sterile chamber with a large screen at its center.
From hidden speakers came a calm voice, fluent
in the local language:
“WE HAVE
COME TO SAVE YOU. ENTER. ENTER ORDIMAN.”
The screen repeated the message, accompanied
by instructions and warnings, perfectly translated.
Scattered across the ruined world, the tubes
stood like gateways — offering salvation… or something far worse.
2040
The transformation was swift. By the end of
2035, most of humanity had accepted Ordiman’s call. Anyone approaching those
metallic colossi was met by a silent door, led into a white hall, and then into
an elevator that seemed to ascend beyond the planet itself.
The ascent had no windows, no references — only
a gentle vibration lasting days, as if the passenger were being carried through
a vertical tunnel without end. When at last the doors opened, they revealed a
metallic expanse so vast it made ancient cities feel microscopic.
The elevator vanished behind them, sinking
back into the abyss. Ahead, a horizon of titanic structures awaited — cyclopean
architecture, perfectly ordered.
Guided by luminous paths, travelers walked
until the landscape shifted abruptly. There it stood: a replica of the world
they had lost. A planet rebuilt with cruel perfection — restored cities, green
fields, clean rivers, homes reassembled as if nothing had happened.
Many wept. Others whispered they had been
reborn.
In less than a year, humanity resettled in this “new home,” rebuilding nations,
routines, and hopes.
But this land was not what it seemed.
Nature there was far too lush. Mixed among
familiar species were creatures with no equivalent in human biology: beautiful
and docile animals beside predators capable of destroying entire villages;
poisonous organisms carrying unknown diseases; vast ecosystems full of alien
life.
And as humanity struggled to readapt, an
uncomfortable truth emerged: they were not the only inhabitants of that
imitation world.
3030
A thousand years passed since the Great Reset.
What had once been catastrophe became myth. The generations who survived the
event no longer existed — their stories diluted into legend, while humanity
thrived, adapted to the dangers and wonders of the recreated world.
Fortresses replaced fragile homes. Armored
vehicles crossed savage paths. Technology flourished under a new principle:
survival above all else.
Then, after the year 3000, something
extraordinary occurred.
Golden beings — incorporeal, made of pure
consciousness — began to appear. They floated like living reflections,
observing without expression. At first, they were only silent presences. Over
time, certain sensitive individuals perceived faint mental waves emanating from
them.
Thus, the first nonverbal dialogue was
established.
The revelation these specters conveyed
dismantled a thousand years of belief:
no one
there had a physical body.
All had died in 2030, the moment the sky
opened and technology collapsed.
The “new world” was an enormous spiritual prison, a simulation built by an
infernal entity or cosmic machine whose purpose was to contain human souls in
infinite cycles. Each life, each death, each rebirth was only a new loop inside
the same confinement.
The golden entities also revealed something
even more impossible:
they
were trying to interfere with the past.
Using a technique that encoded information
inside electrons, they sent mental messages to eras prior to the Great Reset.
Only a few individuals could perceive these transmissions — among them, members
of a secret order called Ordo Lux.
These fragments of message had been guiding
the agents of the past, as they fought to stop the catastrophe of 2030 from
becoming reality.
Bestiary of Space Ordiman
The Genesis of the
First Creatures
In the very first moments after the Architect
ignited the Great Sphere — the event that gave birth to the Cosmos — the First
Beings also emerged. Matter, energy, and consciousness were born together, and
from these forces arose primordial entities meant to sustain and shape the
structure of reality.
These beings witnessed the formation of galaxies
and the rise of the earliest lives, acting as living gears between the material
and spiritual planes. From them came the Seven Generations of Creatures, each
manifesting an essential aspect of the Architect.
The seventh — the Local Beings — was the closest
to physical reality and included entities such as Nocthyl. The earlier
generations existed on levels so vast and subtle that not even the most refined
spirits could fully perceive them.
The First Beings, however, are neither playable
characters nor direct interveners. Their presence, when it appears, is only
fragmentary — visions, echoes, brief manifestations capable of altering the
fate of entire worlds.
The following bestiary does not deal with
them, but with the creatures encountered by players:
·
common beings;
·
spiritual entities;
·
laboratory monsters;
·
ritual abominations;
·
and, rarely, manifestations of Local Beings.
Common Creatures
Common Beings make up the largest group of
life in the Cosmos. Though they are not part of the Seven Primordial
Generations, they were born from the forces dispersed by the Architect during
creation. They live in every plane and dimension, shaping themselves according
to the density and vibration of each environment.
Six categories stand out:
Humans
— physical beings with reason and intuition, bearers of immense spiritual
potential.
Animals — organisms guided by
instinct and often by natural psychic sensitivity.
Spirits — bodiless
consciousnesses living in the subtle layers of the psychosphere.
Spiritual Entities — conscious
forms of pure energy, born from natural processes or rituals.
Astral Plane Beings — creatures shaped
by emotion, symbol, and desire.
Mental Plane Beings —
intelligences formed entirely of logic and mental vibration.
All evolve according to their environment.
When their frequencies descend, they create chaos around them. When they rise,
they draw closer to the Architect’s flow. And none are ever fully disconnected
from the Source — even a fallen consciousness can find its way back.
Players take on the role of humans or human
hybrids.
Laboratory or Ritual Creatures —
Rewritten
There is another kind of life — distorted,
artificial, created without the breath of the Architect. These are beings
manufactured by hands that dared to imitate creation without understanding its
essence.
Such organisms are born from forbidden
experiments conducted by intelligences that have strayed from the Universal
Laws. They possess no true soul; they are biological machines, energetic
vessels, or living amalgams created for battle, genetic manipulation, spiritual
espionage, or the expansion of power.
They proliferate especially in the densest
recesses of the Cosmos — places where reality is malleable and space allows
grotesque forms. From there, these techniques infiltrate other worlds,
including Earth, through the mental plane.
They are creatures designed to interfere,
corrupt, unbalance.
Among them are ritual monsters, hybrids,
artificial chimeras, and genetically altered humans.
Original Creatures — Rewritten
The primordial lineage — the first creatures
that emerged at the initial instant of existence — forms the matrix of all life
and consciousness in the Cosmos. They did not evolve, learn, or adapt. They
simply appeared, as direct manifestations of the forces that shaped time,
matter, frequencies, and perception itself in the first breath of creation.
Each of the Seven Generations corresponds to a
stage in the expansion of the Cosmos. Together, they form a sequence spanning
from pre-conscious, formless energy to the fragmented consciousnesses that,
eras later, would inhabit material worlds. None of these entities had morality,
purpose, alignment, or intention — they are not good, evil, or neutral.
They simply are.
Inaccessible and unknowable, they cannot be
summoned, defeated, persuaded, or even truly understood. Their role is not to
participate in adventures, but to provide the mythic foundation upon which the
entire Space Ordiman universe rests. Their presence is perceived only through
traces: archaic symbols, impossible ruins, distortions in reality, and echoes
left by civilizations bold enough to contemplate them.
Over billions of years, they arose in seven
successive waves:
First Generation —
13.8 billion years ago
Brought the primordial resonance, the pre-form
energy, and the first pulse of existence.
Second Generation —
10 billion years ago
Shaped matter, structured the cosmic web, and
defined the physical foundations of the universe.
Third Generation — 8
billion years ago
Awakened the first seeds of consciousness.
Fourth Generation —
7 billion years ago
Manifested elemental forces and fundamental
energetic principles.
Fifth Generation — 4
billion years ago
Expanded diversity across countless planes,
densities, and dimensions.
Sixth Generation — 2
billion years ago
Blended energies, creating hybrid forms and
interdimensional entities.
Seventh Generation —
800 million years ago
Became the closest expression of the Creator
capable of touching material reality.
For players, contact with such creatures is
almost nonexistent. Only extremely rare manifestations of the Seventh
Generation may appear — brief, symbolic, transformative.
Among these appearances is Nocthyl, a Local Being originating from
the Underworld. Encounters like this represent turning points where the
adventure brushes against the oldest foundations of creation.
Books
Basic and Practical
Books
• Adventure
Part 1
Presents the introductory section of the grand adventure. Recommended reading
for both players and Game Masters (GMs), serving as the gateway into the
narrative universe.
• Adventure
Part 2
Direct continuation of Adventure Part 1, containing the complete adventure with
GM-exclusive content. It is the primary guide for running the story at the
table.
• Earthly
Creatures, Entities, Fanatics and Other Characters
Gathers all playable and non-playable characters of the Space Ordiman universe.
Essential for both players and GMs.
• Rulebook
Contains all game rules and systems. Fundamental reading for both GMs and
players.
Supplementary
Books
• Who Is
Tong Yan Lu?
The story of the enigmatic character who plays a central role in the cults
responsible for the Great Reset.
• Black
Metal
Details the abominable plan that began in the 1980s through the mental plane
and how it shaped a musical style used to amplify its influence.
•
Visitors
Tells the story of the higher consciousnesses that infiltrated Ordiman’s
simulation to warn humanity of its own death. Directly complements Black Metal.
• No
Return
A narrative retelling of the adventure contained in Adventure Book 2, but presented as a novel. Not intended for
GMs — contains numerous spoilers and reveals the full campaign storyline.
Other
Important Books
• Book
of Creatures
Explores the origin of the Seven Generations of creatures directly descended
from the Architect, from 13.8 billion years ago to the present.
•
Adventure Lore
Recounts the events of the Great Reset and the centuries that followed inside
Ordiman’s simulation.
• Unique
Book
A compilation of several Space Ordiman books gathered into a single definitive
volume.
• The
Great Library of Space Ordiman
A deep dive into the complete archive of the universe. Reveals secrets,
stories, and knowledge that expand the game experience in unprecedented ways.
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