Midgard is the biggest corporation running in Metroplexity, and they are in charge of the university, the Slags cleanup and many other facilities. There are many people with secret agendas working for Midgard (often at cross purposes). See Midgard Industries for more details - this page is perhaps redundant with that one.
Collected quotes about various stuff
Project Huginn
Dr. Mira:
"You… you know about Huginn? Really?"
She looks over you appraisingly. "Well, I obviously didn't give you enough credit. Huginn's why I can't help people most of the time, actually. It's Johnson's baby, some sort of complex double-blind."
She shrugs. "Technically, I don't know any details. You'd have to track him down and ask him yourself."
"I know he's been running it for years, though. Its sister project was completed before I even got here, but Huginn's still going strong."
She eyes you shrewdly. "I'm curious how you find these things out, but I suppose I know better than to ask. I mean you're either an auditor or work for the brothers, right? Sorry, nevermind, don't tell me."
"Huginn was Johnson's baby. He's been working on it for years, some sort of elaborate double-blind. He wouldn't even explain the details to me, but it's why I'm not allowed to help most of the rest of the staff."
She sighs heavily, bringing up one hand to rub her temples. "It's really kind of awful. I have to leave so many projects broken that I end up snapping at the other researchers… as though it's their fault, right?"
She breaks back through with a laugh that only rings a little false. "Well, better than working at corporate right? I mean, at least here we're helping people out and fighting the good fight, right? Oh, sorry about the corporate dig if you're an auditor."
Despite your best efforts, you can't get any of them to talk about Project Huginn. They all claim they've never heard of it.
Even the doctor who originally nodded along and answered your questions with even vaguer questions eventually admits he was just trying to save face. Putting him in his place is enjoyable, but ultimately doesn't answer any questions.
There’s only one hidden directory on the server, but it’s utterly massive. The directory itself is named “Project Huginn” and contains years of notes. It’s largely text, but frequently contains imbedded media to illustrate points.
Unfortunately, as you read forward in time, the notes become incoherent and covered with unfamiliar jargon. The earliest entries outline the project, however.
The outline suggests that several groups of scientists and physicians be trained separately. Each group would be… well, judging by the documentation, each group was… given radically different information about the effects of the Slags on people, animals, and matter.
The hypothesis is that the observer’s expectations have some noticeable effect on Slags phenomena. The author, labeled SPSigurd in the system, was apparently given control of the facility for over four years with the sole goal of testing that hypothesis.
The most recent document indicates that the testing didn’t bear out the hypothesis. However, the expectations of Slags Poisoning’s victims did seem to have some bearing.
The document ends explaining that a small-scale test will be conducted using existing assets to determine if training modifies the effects of Slags Poisoning. That entry was added almost a month ago.
The whole thing is a pretty intense read, but you think you've learned what you can from it.
They both stop to stare at you for a moment. "Huginn? Really? That's kind of creepy."
"The only time we heard of it was just before… well, maybe just after, Johnson went nuts on us."
The other scientist picks up the train of thought. "He said something about how it was a failure, but from its failure, he'd build an even greater success. Then congratulated himself about going to its master, like it was the best idea he'd ever had."
The first scientist chuckles dryly. "Yeah. We thought that he'd left to go find the old head of the project. That's before we realized he'd poisoned the food and sabotaged all the masks."
Project Muninn
[Rambling about] how management stuck him with the hard half of the project and "Muninn" was as easy as shooting addicts in the head.
"… Its sister project [Muninn] was completed before I even got here, but Huginn's still going strong. …"
Utgard
He inhales a hissing breath. "Fucking Utgard. It's the key to some puzzle, I fucking know it."
He pulls a plastic bracelet out of his pocket, like the one's hospitals give to the patients wealthy enough to go there. "U15" is printed on it in large, block letters.
"The people who ran the hospital we were all in, they were part of some Project Utgard. That's what the U stands for. And apparently they're funding Emily's party." He breathes noisily again.
"I mean, maybe it's above board… maybe they're just trying to make amends or whatever. I don't buy it, though."
"Utgard?" he pauses for a long while, as though appraising you.
"Yeah, that certainly as hell sounds familiar." He pulls out a strip of plastic, like the bracelets people who can afford hospitals get while they're there.
There's a bar code and blocky letters reading "U15" printed on it. He grimaces a bit. "The 'U' apparently stands for Utgard. It's the name of the… I dunno, project or lab or whatever everyone was at. Emily was 3."
"Man… what the hell is Midgard up to?" he leaves the question hanging, staring off into space.
You take a look through the hidden files. They've hidden a fair bit of garbage to throw you off… the nice sort of touch you'd expect from the professional or the obsessed.
Eventually, you find their operating budget. You scroll down, back in time… lots of small payments from the bookstore, a few larger transfers from the University Student Fund here and there.
Back near the very beginning, you find one truly massive transfer from an account named "Utgard." A quick check on the account number shows, somewhat unsurprisingly, it belongs to Midgard Industries.
Yggdrasil
You scan through the data, discovering that most of it revolves around the gangleader's conversations with a Dr. Thomas. A few notes about 'Project Yggdrasil' show up here and there, but it's obvious the gangleader knew no more about the project than you do.
Click.
Hawk:
Yggdrasil? Yeah, of course I've heard of it!
It's that social networking game… thing Midgard had a while back, when they thought they could stand toe to toe with Zaibatsu. You can probably guess how that turned out.
It was pretty popular here when I was going to school, though, because all the Midgard parents felt like they needed to get accounts for their kids. It bombed everywhere else, though.
Bad timing, chum. Only other time I heard that, the old big boss was asking about it.
He said it was some sort of secret group and was really specific it wasn't the old network. Good thing, too, because every other bum I asked was like "when I was rich and famous I had ten thousand branches on Yggdrasil."
And, of course, the 'clipsed weren't any help. They were all "can't stop running, the garbage'll eat me" or "joke's on them, my guts are nothing but sawdust."
Heh heh heh. So yeah, I didn't get anything. Somebody else might've, though.
[…] She apparently mentioned competing against others "on Yggdrasil." He didn't know what she meant, but I have a suspicion.
That sounds like a Midgard codename. I'd hazard a guess that it's a project under Special Projects if they still exist.
Hel:
She mentioned "Yggdrasil" once, competing against other people on it. That sounds far too much like a Midgard codename to be coincidence, although we ran into more than a few people false flagging that over the years.
The Brothers
Seems to refer to three people in a couple places; one of them is known for wearing a monocle (see below). Not entirely clear what their role is within Midgard.
He leans in closer and whispers "be careful of the brothers; they're exactly what they seem," then wanders off.
Dr. Mira, asking about Project Huginn:
She eyes you shrewdly. "I'm curious how you find these things out, but I suppose I know better than to ask. I mean you're either an auditor or work for the brothers, right? Sorry, nevermind, don't tell me."
She shakes her head slowly. "Rumors, I guess. Unbefitting a scientist, really, but they probably hold a kernel of truth."
She inhales deeply, as though she knows she won't be able to start talking again if she pauses. "They might not exist, but there're always rumors. Some say they're mercenaries, others say they clean up internal leaks. I heard someone claim they secretly run Midgard."
She pauses for her next breath, slowing herself down a bit. "I'm not really sure I believe any of it. Midgard's internal auditors are scary enough, they shouldn't need people like that."
One of the doctor's chimes in "differentiation at point five and dropping!" It… sounds bad, but she's smiling, and it seems like an awful lot of effort to ask them what it means.
You hear a door open and a wash of fresh air dissipates some of the scent. A new voice echoes from the door. "What class?"
The lead doctor in the room answers equally cryptically. "Probably E, but I wouldn't bet my job on it." The man at the door… you feel like you should recognize him somehow, chimes in "you better figure it out, the brothers are coming downstairs right now."
You see an expression of mixed anticipation and terror creep over the lead doctor's face. "Alright," he commands. "Add another drip of the anxiety cocktail. I don't want any surprises."
One of the younger doctors presses a button, which answers with a soft beep. As the room fades away, three men walk in wearing dark suits. The last thing you see before returning to consciousness is one of them flashing you a grin, showing you the joy and abandon only the truly mad can feel.
Playing Chess in the computer lab: (unclear exactly who has a brother in this conversation, and if it is "the brothers".)
Your fingers were on a keyboard, just like this one, and you remember trying to play chess, but there were too many distractions. Your head itched like dozens of tiny points were burrowing into your scalp and the people behind you kept talking.
"This is all you have to show for it!" one boomed in anger, "Three months of failures! I can find idiots on the streets!"
A soothing voice began to disagree. "We're trying to find an appropriate trigger… Even your brother." The voice was interrupted by a shower of sparks and shattering glass.
You remember pain… your hand holding a glass shard, your blood mingling with another's. The booming voice laughs, a sound blending malice and honest amusement.
When you shake out of your… whatever that was, the computer has checkmated you.
Amorphous Hologram:
She smiles down at you. "Hello again, old friend. You have not changed at all, but I suppose that is the curse of your kind, until you steal the brother's secrets."
You remember… an office. It's both far more vivid and far more boring than what you'd expect from the chip. It gets hard to resist falling into the strange memory.
You rest comfortably in your ergonomic chair, perfectly supported to work on the giant stream of numbers you're formatting. Sun lamps give the room a warm glow, even though you can't see the nearest window.
Three men come onto the floor, looking almost like brothers. Each is too well-dressed to be welcome here and the leader wears a monocle. You've heard people are going for retro clothing, but that's ridiculous.
They stop on the far side of your cubical wall and the last thing you hear before the pain is "that crazy raven is building an army."
The gunshot is understated, leaving you almost disappointed with the soft 'thwip' of magnetically driven needles ripping through the cubicle wall and into your right side.
