Basic 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.