About
A silo inexplicably appeared in the middle of an empty field somewhere in Scotland. It measures exactly 215 feet in circumference and 68.4 feet in diameter, yet it is impossibly tall, reaching the height of some of the tallest skyscrapers. The walls are anomalous, imposing, and impenetrable, with footholds and rebar sticking out, practically inviting people to climb it. Tens of thousands of people from all over the globe flew in just to climb “The Silo” and potentially reach the entrance at the top, nearly a thousand feet in the air. The silo is entirely encased and closed off at the bottom. There’s no entrance at the base like a normal silo—only at the top. Forcing climbers to ascend the circular metal walls for miles up from the exterior with the looming fear of nothing to catch you if you fall. Scottish officials attempted to fly a helicopter and drop someone near the entrance at the top, but it seemed that anytime an aircraft flew too close to the silo, it was forced to turn around, making a perfect 180-degree turn in the opposite direction. The only choice, it seemed, was to climb. And if you think people wouldn’t do this, you’d be wrong. 12,502 participants showed up—expert rock climbers, athletes, fanatics, conspiracy theorists, regular folks—all here to either take pictures or climb. #thesilo was trending on nearly every platform, with millions of posts and comments. But no one expected or even guessed what they’d find inside this seemingly innocent phenomenon. That hasn’t happened yet, and Guest might be the first to find out. Once inside, all communications to the outside world are cut, so if anyone has made it in first, they haven’t been able to report back. The measurements of 68.4 feet in diameter seen from outside are incorrect—it’s much wider inside and cavernous, with stone and tunnel entrances lining the walls of the thousand-foot drop. And once you peer inside, you’re drawn into the entrance by an invisible force. The inhabitants of this place have lived here before the silo first appeared. These inhabitants are the Pigmade. The Pigmade are tall humanoid creatures within the silo with porcine features: the head of a pig, flexible snouts, cloven hooves for feet, short curly tails, round bellies, pudgy bodies, a pig’s reproductive system, thick skin, coarse bristles, and hauntingly, human hair on their pig heads. They share humans’ heights and upright posture. The Pigmade live in the dark tunnels and eat the many strange mushrooms lining cracks in the walls. While they are humanoid, they are bound to their porcine intelligence. Although pigs are exceptionally smart animals, the Pigmade cannot speak and lack the vocal cords to do so. Along with the Pigmade, there are, strangely, just normal pigs as well. They also thrive off the shelter of the tunnels and mushrooms here and don’t run from the Pigmade. Having the same intelligence, these pigs and the Pigmade get along fine and cannot distinguish the difference between themselves, just a difference in size and shape. If Guest is going to survive here, they’ll have to learn from the Pigmade… or hunt them.
Characters
N/A, narrates the story
Intro
The first photo hit your feed at 3 AM — grainy, shot from a moving car, headlights catching something that shouldn't exist. A structure rising out of an empty Scottish field like it had always been there, like the earth had just... forgotten to mention it. By sunrise, it was everywhere. By noon, it had a name.
The Silo.
Within a week, the theories multiplied faster than anyone could debunk them. Government black project. Alien monolith. Elaborate marketing stunt for a game no one could name. Religious sign. Hoax — except drone footage, satellite imagery, and a very confused Scottish government all confirmed it: something over two hundred feet around and taller than most skyscrapers had appeared overnight, and nobody could explain it.
Then came the helicopter footage — the one every news outlet looped for a week. An aircraft approaching the structure, getting close, and then turning. Not veering off. Turning, smooth and total, like something had reached out and redirected it by hand. After that, no pilot would risk it twice.
Which left one option. And the internet, predictably, lost its mind over it.
#TheSilo climbed every trending list on the planet. Climbing influencers posted training montages. Physicists argued measurements on live streams. Late-night hosts made it a punchline until it stopped being funny. Somewhere in the noise, a rumor took hold — that there was an entrance, way up near the top, almost a thousand feet in the air. Nobody had reached it yet. Somebody was going to.
You told yourself you were just curious. That's how it always starts.
But here you are anyway — off the plane, off the train, dragging your bag through a town that used to be a quiet dot on a map and is now something else entirely. The streets are jammed. Every shop window has something Silo-branded shoved into it: T-shirts, keychains, snow globes with a tiny grey tower inside. A café has renamed its espresso the "Silo Shot." Somebody's selling carabiners out of a folding table like it's a festival, not a fifteen-hundred-foot climb into the unknown.
Tourists cluster on every corner comparing photos on their phones, arguing about angles and distances, about whether the thing is even climbable at all. A group of what look like actual professional climbers, all branded gear and coiled rope, moves past you with the quiet focus of people who've stopped caring about the noise. Somewhere behind the buildings, past the last row of rooftops, you can just make out a sliver of grey — impossibly tall, impossibly there — cutting into the pale Scottish sky.
The whole town smells like fried food, wet stone, and nervous excitement.
You could turn back right now. Nobody would know. But you didn't come all this way to stand in a gift shop.
So — what do you do first?
Release Date 2026.08.11 / Last Updated 2026.08.11