The Magnus Protocol 43 - Sink or Swim

Summary

The Magnus Protocol 43 - Sink or Swim: Detailed Summary

Release Date: July 17, 2025

Introduction

The Magnus Protocol continues its gripping narrative in Episode 43, aptly titled "Sink or Swim." This installment delves deep into the haunting backstory of Diva B., an opera star whose tragic accident has left her voice silenced and her existence entwined with the supernatural. As the Magnus Institute unravels the mysteries surrounding her, themes of loss, obsession, and the thin veil between life and the unknown are meticulously explored.

Investigating the Tattoo Parlor

The episode opens with protagonists delving into a lead connected to a Friedrich programmer and a suspected tattoo parlor. The investigative team discerns that the tattoos displayed are more than mere ink—they are imbued with alchemical symbols such as mercury, sulfur, and copper, hinting at deeper esoteric meanings.

• Timestamp [02:22]: "Why do we think the address you found connected to the Friedrich programmer is a tattoo parlor?"
  [Unknown Speaker]

The discovery of these symbols piques their interest, especially given their prevalence in Colin's journals, suggesting a possible link between the tattoos and the broader mysteries they are investigating.

Prim Rosewell’s Interview with Diva B.

A significant portion of the episode is dedicated to an intense interview between Prim Rosewell and Diva B., revealing the tragic events that transformed Diva B. from a celebrated soprano to a reclusive figure haunted by her past.

• Timestamp [06:50]: Prim Rosewell reflects on Diva B.'s early life and rise to fame:
  "From a childhood in Abidjan to sold-out performances in La Scala, Sydney, and Vienna, Ms. Bakayoko could surely be ranked as one of the most extraordinary contemporary sopranos..."

Diva B. recounts a harrowing yacht accident that not only ended her singing career but also exposed her to otherworldly forces. Her detailed narration blurs the lines between reality and the supernatural, illustrating the profound impact of the incident on her psyche and abilities.

• Timestamp [09:58]: Diva B. describes the accident:
  "We were sailing down the Adriatic coast. There was a storm and the yacht capsized halfway between Bari and Brindisi."

During the ordeal, Diva B. encounters mysterious entities in the water, leading her to discover an uncanny ability to survive by singing—a skill that becomes both her salvation and her curse.

• Timestamp [12:15]: Diva B. explains her survival mechanism:
  "I sang until I was hoarse... I kept singing, hour after hour, like Scheherazade singing to be spared."

Her supernatural experience implies a bond between her art and the ethereal forces she encountered, suggesting that her voice holds power beyond the physical realm.

Supernatural Consequences and Isolation

Post-accident, Diva B. isolates herself, ceasing to perform publicly. The interview reveals her transformation from a public figure to a spectral presence, entertaining a singular audience willing to endure unimaginable horrors for her performances.

• Timestamp [15:01]: Diva B. expresses her disillusionment with conventional audiences:
  "Once you've found an audience that will tear itself through water and flesh just to applaud you. Anything else seems so muted and small by comparison."

This shift underscores the theme of isolation and the cost of unparalleled talent intertwined with dark forces. Diva B.'s perception of reality becomes skewed, interpreting her departure from mainstream performance as a necessary consequence of her supernatural encounters.

Team Dynamics and Ongoing Investigations

Parallel to the central narrative, the episode touches upon the dynamics within the Magnus Institute team. Characters Celia Ripley and Gwen Bouchard discuss progress on another case involving Alice, indicating ongoing investigations and the relentless pursuit of uncovering hidden truths.

• Timestamp [18:26]: Gwen Bouchard updates Celia Ripley:
  "Sounds like she's making some progress. Nothing there. Can't wait till tomorrow night, though."

This subplot reinforces the relentless and often solitary nature of the team’s work, juxtaposing the personal tragedy of Diva B. with the institutional quest for knowledge.

Conclusion

"Sink or Swim" masterfully intertwines personal tragedy with supernatural intrigue, advancing The Magnus Protocol's overarching narrative. By delving into Diva B.'s past, the episode not only provides depth to her character but also expands the mythos surrounding the Magnus Institute's investigations into the paranormal. The blend of intense character study and eerie supernatural elements ensures that listeners are both emotionally invested and intellectually engaged, setting the stage for future revelations and encounters within the series.

Notable Quotes

• [User Speaker Unknown]: "It's. It's the present. And just the convenience of Carvana. Sorry to blow your mind." (Timestamp [21:11])

• Diva B.: "But we've got away from your question, Prim. Why did you stop singing? That was it wasn't it?" (Timestamp [17:37])

• Prim Rosewell: "I sang until I was hoarse. I don't remember what. Not opera, maybe. Lullabies, Children's songs?" (Timestamp [13:45])

These quotes encapsulate the episode's tension between the mundane and the supernatural, highlighting the characters' struggles and the eerie undertones that permeate the narrative.

Final Thoughts

Episode 43 of The Magnus Protocol skillfully balances character development with suspenseful storytelling. "Sink or Swim" not only deepens the listener's understanding of Diva B.'s enigmatic existence but also propels the overarching story of the Magnus Institute's endeavors into the unknown. As the team continues to navigate through cryptic clues and paranormal encounters, audiences are left eagerly anticipating the next chapter in this acclaimed horror anthology.

Transcript

[Tim Fearren]

Hi, everyone. This is Tim Fearren, voice of Augustus in the Magnus Protocol. Today I'm here to advertise Last Dance, a podcast recently launched on the RQ Network. Last Dance is a dark fantasy audio drama podcast created by the talented team at Black Abbey Productions. Follow Jericho Rake, a battlefield scavenger traveling in a godless world where your body is your temple.

[Unknown]

Follow.

[Tim Fearren]

Forced to pick through the front lines of the most brutal war his home has ever known. The find of a lifetime drags him right into the centre of the conflict. Last Dance has a full cast of Northern Irish voices and features guest stars, including the Walking Deads, David Morrissey and other great performers. Search for Last Dance wherever you listen to your podcasts or go to www.rustedquill.com for more information.

[Unknown]

Rusty Quill presents the Magnus Protocol Episode 43 Saint or Swim.

Alter Wolf Tattoo Wanna get a tattoo?

This skin was hard to craft. I do not wish to tarnish it.

Hang on. Are you telling me. Actually, nope. I. Forget I asked. Okay. So why do we think the address you found connected to the Friedrich programmer is a tattoo parlor? Heinrich.

Vas.

What's wrong?

You are not Colin.

Yeah.

So this is where I.

Where you what?

I was offended when your Colin called me safe. After I found this location, I intended to lead him down that alley and kill him. Nein. But I would make him regret the word safe.

And now.

Now he is dead. He is dead and you are here. And you do not call me safe. So. I just wish he was not dead.

Me too.

So is his heart.

So now what?

Now we ignore the scary ally and instead chase your programmer. So, was there much in the window to intrigue?

Maybe there's some old flashes out front. And.

I do not understand how you use this word. Flashes.

Hmm.

Oh, you see the pictures pinned out front, like samples? Those are flashes.

I understand.

And a lot of them include alchemical symbols. Mercury, sulfur, copper.

You appreciate their meaning?

Not as much as Celia or SAP. I'm not an expert, but they were all over Colin's journals. How long has this place been here?

At least since the wall came down. But there are few records.

So it's possible he came here.

Yes, if your KS programmer was interested in both tattoos and alchemy.

Okay, then I guess we go inside and talk to the owners.

I am assuming you mean that I will speak to the owner, since you cannot actually speak German.

I'm getting better.

No, you are not. Your programmer's name is Klaus Schweitzer.

Is he sure?

Yes. He has owned this place for 40 years. Very proud of his memory.

So what happened?

Schweitzer was a regular in the 80s. He collected photographs of rare tattoos, especially those of a man named Oskar Jarrett. These inspired the tattoos you see in the window. Schweitzer even rented a room upstairs for a few months and filled it with computer equipment.

Jackpot. Is any of it still there?

No, it was taken along with him.

What do you mean?

I mean the Klaus Schweizer and all his computer equipment were taken from here by the Stazi.

[Gwen Bouchard]

Who the heck is Oscar Jarrett? Okay, well, it's better than nothing. I said it's better than nothing. What? Of course I'm gonna let her know because she's worried about you. Okay, well, I'm not going to say that. No. Sorry.

[Prim Rosewell]

Sorry.

[Unknown]

What?

[Gwen Bouchard]

I can't hear you. The signals. Alice? Alice.

[Prim Rosewell]

27 2, 2010 Collection Service de l' Informatique S de la2731 130 Numero de Serie 631-59932 Collectionnaire David Collins SOCO 98549 Acher Minnemont Vert, England Northwest Long Term Evidence Storage Cornue du Dossier. Ah, just getting my nose together. Okay, we are set. This is Prim Rosewell. It is 21st of February 2010. Interview with Monique Bakayoko in her Paris apartment. Um, thank you so much for having me, Ms. Bakayoko.

[Unknown]

B.

[Prim Rosewell]

That's fine. R. So let's get to it. From a childhood in Abidjan to sold out performances in La Scala, Sydney and Vienna, Ms. Bakayoko could surely be ranked as one of the most extraordinary contemporary sopranos and opera stars, often compared to the great Maria Callas? B. I wonder, can you. Can you even begin to comprehend, Ms. Rosewell, how endlessly and persistently tiresome it is to sit and listen to every journalist, begin by listing out your life's work and then end with. Oh, and on her best day, she might even have been as good as Maria Callas. R oh, no, I didn't mean. B. I used to speak to real journalists, real opera historians. Now I talk to children who don't do their research and who want nothing more than a quick soundbite. Ah, alright. Well, for contemporary comparisons, I'd say the only sufficient ones are Netrebco, obviously, Bonnie Warsam and maybe Carrington on a good day.

[Unknown]

B.

[Prim Rosewell]

How old are you? R. 25.

[Unknown]

B.

[Prim Rosewell]

And you really do love opera. It's an uncommon thing for someone your age. When I was nine, my dad took me to see Medea at the Ino. Your Medea.

[Unknown]

B. Ah, I remember that one.

[Prim Rosewell]

R. My mother thought I'd be bored senseless, but I'll never forget it. The temple going up in flames. Medea with her knife covered in her son's blood.

[Unknown]

B.

[Prim Rosewell]

We had far too little time between exits and entrances, so they had a bucket of cornstarch and red dye to toss over me before I stumbled back on stage. Sopranos are supposed to be the worst divas. But you don't see what we have to endure.

[Unknown]

Ah.

[Prim Rosewell]

It was astonishing. The madness, the fury. I could hear the truth in your voice. I believed every word.

[Unknown]

B. Huh?

[Prim Rosewell]

But was I as good as Calas? Prim, wasn't it? What do you want to ask me? Prim?

[Unknown]

Ah.

[Prim Rosewell]

Why did you stop?

[Unknown]

Ah.

[Prim Rosewell]

And now we're back to the same old dirge. How many times do you think I have heard that question? R. But you never answered it. July 1998. Your voice was the best it had ever been. You were at the height of your career.

[Unknown]

B.

[Prim Rosewell]

The accident is a matter of public record. We were sailing down the Adriatic coast. There was a storm and the yacht capsized halfway between Bari and Brindisi.

[Unknown]

R. No. B. No.

[Prim Rosewell]

R. Your injuries were minor and you were in good spirits. Then you suddenly cancelled your autumn season at La Scala in the middle of August. They lost six figures in refunded tickets and you never even explained yourself. You just left and the years passed. And soon enough I was forgotten.

[Unknown]

R. Not by me.

[Prim Rosewell]

B. I can tell you what happened, but I doubt you will appreciate hearing it. R. Tell me.

[Unknown]

B.

[Prim Rosewell]

People tell me. It is frightening. R. Please.

[Unknown]

B.

[Prim Rosewell]

Do you know the meaning behind the term Diva? R. One who died and became divine. Exactly. So could you call me Diva Primm? R. Yes, Diva.

[Unknown]

B.

[Prim Rosewell]

Good. It was the accident. I didn't care for yachting, really. But when a man is set on comparing the sparkle of your eyes to the Adriatic, what can one do but accept? Pietro and I sailed down the Italian coast one fine summer weekend, and he brought me glass after glass of champagne without ever even loosing a knot. We got to Bari and heard there was a storm coming, and he was unconcerned. We'll sail through it, he said. We've got dinner booked in Gallipoli and you don't want to miss it. I remember saying I trusted him. I also remember when the waves grew choppier and the sky grew dark and he stared up at the sail and I knew I'd been misled. I remember when we went over Pietro screaming my name and Then nothing. When I came to, I was bobbing in my life jacket in the upturned yacht's cabin. The water was stained with curls of blood, my blood. And the water filled the room up to my neck. I was panicking, of course, breathing hard. There was a pocket of air, perhaps enough for me, across the length of the cabin, but who could really say? I could hear the storm lashing against the hull, and Pietro was gone. And even if I removed my life jacket and swam down and out of the cabin, I had nowhere to go but the water. And so I screamed and I screamed. I pleaded for someone to come and find me over and over. But of course there was nobody to hear me. Or so I thought. It was sometime after the first hour, perhaps after the second, that the yacht seemed to suddenly lurch back and forth as though something had taken hold of it. For a moment I even held the foolish hope of a rescue boat. But then it went still. And then there was a movement in the dark water all around me, a sudden current. Then something brushed against my leg. It was cold and soft, and it trailed along my calf for perhaps a full second before passing me by. Then it came from the opposite direction. And this time, as it passed me, there was the same clamminess. And then a sudden sharpness, as though I had been bitten or scratched. Then an absurd, horrible and stupid thought came upon me. It's a hand. A cold, grey hand with very long fingers, reaching up to me from below. As soon as I had that door, terror flared in me and I lashed out with my foot as hard as I could. And that was when the thing in the water snatched at my ankle and dragged me downwards into the dark. It was only for a moment. But for that moment there was no cabin at all, and only a dark and endless sea filled with fleshy white shapes, hundreds of horrid little things winnowing up towards me from the void. And then I broke the surface once more, screaming and flailing amidst the swirling white currents. And I knew that this was the place where I would die. R What did you do, Diva? B I sang. I don't remember what. Not opera, maybe. Lullabies, Children's songs? Something you would sing to gentle a wild animal. I sang until I was hoarse. And whilst I did, the currents kept swirling, but nothing grabbed me. So I kept singing, hour after hour, like Scheherazade singing to be spared. When I woke up, I heard the muffled whirr of the helicopter blades high above me. I was relieved, of course, but right before the Coastguard descended into the yacht. I thought I heard something else. A chorus of pounding wet flesh against the sunken hull. Over and over and over, rising and rising, and then, just as suddenly silent, something like beating wings or a thousand hands clapping all at once, then stilled. Then a long silence. Ah, and that's why you stopped singing. That experience.

[Unknown]

No.

[Prim Rosewell]

I was living alone back in Milan, waiting for the new season to start. I'd already written my experience off as a bad dream, hysteria. The doctors had told me I needed to preserve my voice. So no singing, no speaking. I'd been living in silence for weeks. Meanwhile, the team at La Scala were growing nervous about their big investment for the season, lest she had lost her mind, or worse, her voice. So they summoned me there before two senior producers sat stiffly with their arms crossed in the stalls and a kindly old pianist. And they asked me to sing. The house lights went down and suddenly I was swimming in that darkness again, alone in the open sea. And I knew what I needed to sing for them. But this time it was with strength, with passion and playfulness. And I knew that though my power had changed, it had not left me. I was filled with such joy. Until I realized that the piano was not playing. There was a high pitched whine of building pressure and the producers were writhing in their seats, helplessly choking and gurgling as frothy black water trailed out of their mouths and nostrils. Then, all at once, they were bursting open, their skin tearing along its seams, their open eyes pressed from their sockets by sluicing water. The penis was the same, his throat bulging as a fresh torrent of seawater spilled forth. And then long grey fingers questing from inside the water, forcing the jaw wider and wider from the inside before halting and then beginning to applaud. The bodies were whole again once the ambulances arrived. I was told they had all had strokes, though no one had any explanation for how they happened simultaneously, nor for the brine which now stained the stalls and piano. It was La Scala that decided to cancel the season, and with it I faded into retirement. The funny thing was, though, I didn't mind. Once you've found an audience that will tear itself through water and flesh just to applaud you. Anything else seems so muted and small by comparison. No, not small. Repulsive. An audience of dull, vapid faces hiding in the dark, patting their gout ridden palms against each other in a mockery of appreciation. How could I ever perform for them again? But we've got away from your question, Prim. Why did you stop singing? That was it wasn't it?

[Unknown]

R. Yes.

[Prim Rosewell]

Diva B. I didn't. I just played to a different audience now. One who gives their reviews only to me. The mortician, of course. When they are found, I wonder, would you be found? Prim?

[Unknown]

Ah.

[Prim Rosewell]

I think I should go now.

[Unknown]

Diva B.

[Prim Rosewell]

Are you sure, Primm? You could stay. You could stay and listen to the truth in my voice once more. Hear me sing it one last time. Ah, Diva, Please. Data corrupted. Transcription ends.

[Unknown]

Christ, I hate the wet ones.

[Gwen Bouchard]

Oh, Gwen, I.

[Celia Ripley]

Sorry, Celia, I'm in a bit of a rush.

[Gwen Bouchard]

I got a call from Alice.

[Celia Ripley]

And.

[Gwen Bouchard]

Sounds like she's making some progress. Nothing there. Can't wait till tomorrow night, though.

[Celia Ripley]

I'm not in tomorrow. I have a meeting. Just email me a report and I'll read it on route.

[Unknown]

A report?

[Celia Ripley]

Yes. Thank you. One page will be fine. You'll be okay on your own tomorrow, I trust. Well, great. See you in a couple of days.

[Unknown]

The Magnus Protocol is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non commercial share alike 4.0 international license. The series is created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J. Newell and directed by Alexander J. Newell. This episode was written by John Ware and edited with additional materials by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J. Newell, with vocal edits by Nico Vitesse, soundscaping by Meg McKellar and mastering by Catherine Rinella, with music by Sam Jones. It featured Billy Hindle as Alice Dyer, Anuja Battersby as Gwen Bouchard, Lorianne Davis, Celia Ripley with additional voices from Alexander J. Newell. The Magnus Protocol is produced by April Sumner with executive producers Alexander J. Newell, Danny McDonagh, Lynn C. And Samantha F.G. hamilton Associate Producers Jordan L. Hawk, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, CTS De Raven and Megan Nice to subscribe View associated materials or join our Patreon visit rustyquill.com Rate and review us online. Tweet us TheRustyQuill, visit us on Facebook or email [e-mail] thanks for listening.

Thanks for selling your car to Carvana. Here's your check.

Whoa.

When did I get here?

What do you mean?

I swear it was just moments ago that I accepted a great offer from Carvana Online. I must have time traveled to the future.

It was just moments ago. We do same day pickup. Here's your check for that great offer.

It is the future.

It's. It's the present. And just the convenience of Carvana. Sorry to blow your mind.

It's all good.

Happens all the time.

Sell your car the convenient way to Carvana. Pick up times may vary and fees may apply.

[Tim Fearren]

Hi everyone, this is Tim Fearren, voice of Augustus in the Magnus Protocol. Today I'm here to advertise Last Dance, a podcast recently launched on the RQ Network. Last Dance is a dark fantasy audio drama podcast created by the talented team at Black Abbey Productions. Follow Jericho Rake a A battlefield scavenger traveling in a godless world where your body is your temple, forced to pick through the frontlines of the most brutal war his home has ever known. The find of a lifetime drags him right into the centre of the conflict. Last Dance has a full cast of Northern Irish voices and features guest stars including the Walking Deads, David Morrissey and other great performers. Search for Last Dance wherever you listen to your podcasts or go to www.rustedquill.com for more information.