Dialogue

New to Control? Let's break down the unsettling Hiss Incantation. We'll cover its origins, meaning, and the chilling words that echo through the Oldest House.

Hey there! So, you've probably heard some weird stuff echoing around the Oldest House, right? That's the Hiss incantation, and it's a bit of a mind-bender. Think of it like a creepy poem that people under the Hiss's influence, like Dylan Faden or even Zachariah Trench, chant. The Federal Bureau of Control (FBC) doesn't really get it either, but Emily Pope thought it might be a way the Hiss spreads or a statement of its intentions. Dylan, when he was messed up by it, apparently found it soothing, which is... unsettling. It's got this Dadaist vibe – all about irrationality and messing with logic. The tone is pretty dark, hinting at hate, isolation, and violence, which totally fits how the Hiss makes people act. Where did this creepy chant come from? Turns out, in the *AWE* expansion, we learn it was written by Alan Wake himself! He needed a way to describe this alien force that mimicked intelligence, something that couldn't be easily translated. He literally cut up words and sentences, threw them in a shoebox, and pulled them out to make this chant. It's wild to think about – was he channeling the Hiss, did the Hiss steal his poem, or is the Hiss just another one of his fictional creations brought to life? The FBC thinks parts of it might be the Hiss mocking them, especially lines about 'permission in your regulations' and 'redacted' information, possibly even referencing Trench. The Full Chant Here's the text as you'll hear it:

“

You are a worm through time. The thunder song distorts you. Happiness comes. White pearls, but yellow and red in the eye. Through a mirror, inverted is made right. Leave your insides by the door. Push the fingers through the surface into the wet. You’ve always been the new you. You want this to be true. We stand around you while you dream. You can almost hear our words but you forget. This happens more and more now. You gave us the permission in your regulations. We wait in the stains. The word that describes this is redacted. Repeat the word. The name of the sound. It resonates in your house. After the song, time for applause. We build you till nothing remains. The egg cracks and the truth will emerge out of you. You are home. You remind us of home. You’ve taken your boss with your boss with you. All hair must be eaten. Under the conceptual reality behind this reality you must want these waves to drag you away. . This cliché is death out of time, breaking the first the second the third the fourth wall, the fifth wall, floor; no floor: you fall! How do you say “insane”? Hurts to be happy. An earworm is a tune you can’t stop humming in a dream: “baby baby baby yeah”. Just plastic. So, safe and nothing to worry about. Ha ha, funny. The last egg breaks now. The hole in your room is a hole in you. You came and we let you in through the hole in you. You have always been here, the only child. A copy of a copy of a copy. Orange peel. The picture is you holding the picture. When you hear this you will know you’re in new you. You want to listen. You want to dream. You want to smile. You want to hurt. You don’t want to be.

”

An Alternate Version There's also a slightly different version found through data mining related to *FBC:Firebreak*. It's pretty similar, but with some notable changes:

“

You are a worm burrowing through space and time. Blind to the burrow you leave behind. We burrow into you, or a drip through the soft core of your head. We are the thunderous song that will distort you. Happiness will come. White pearls, yes, but yellow and red in the eyes. Through liquid mirror, the inverted is made right. Broken night, like the whole city was in a snow globe. Push your fingers through the surface of the night, into the wet. They stand around you while you lie sleeping, they talk, and in your dream you can almost hear them talk. He gave us permission. You invited us over the threshold. You made a home in your conceptual complexities, theories, rules, and regulations. Hidden between the lines, we live in the diagrams and footnotes and coffee stains. We have redacted your records. You need to know it’s on a need to know basis. We’ll gladly tell you this. This is the only thing you need to know. The words that describes it is hiss, repeat, hiss. The sound of gas leaking in. It’s not the name of the gas. It’s the name of the sound. It’s the song, ritual. Sing it, Sing it together. Resonates in your house. Listen. Hiss. Hiss. . We must destroy you until nothing remains. From behind the fake facade, a terrifying truth will emerge. Your home, you remind us of home. You will get chemical burns taking your boss your boss with you. All the hair must be eaten. Pornographic entropy. All of the above. You’ve taken your boss with your boss with you. Great for your bones. Piercing the numbing buzz. Under the song, time for applause. This cliche is death out of time. Breaking the first, the second, the third the fourth wall. Bony wrists. Piercing skin. Fat drops. Painting windows red. The slipstream, no control under control. You say, “wait, what?” and you say, “it is almost as if?” But then the dream shifts and you forget. This will keep happening more and more now.

”

Keep an ear out for these phrases – they're a sure sign the Hiss is up to no good!