Sanctuaries of Living Light (Past-Future Biohackers - Episode II)
➵ Back-story: What if biohacking already existed in the 16th century?
Our steampunk-inspired 5-part story series takes place in medieval Europe, during a time when the Church sought to eliminate pagan traditions, alchemy, early science, and other practices seen as heretical. This was a pivotal period for free thought—across science, medicine, and ancient wisdom. Paracelsus, a key figure in the medical revolution, carried out much of his groundbreaking work during this era of persecution. The series blends historical fact with fiction. Any resemblance to speakers at the upcoming HOLOLIFE Summit 2025 Europe, taking place on 14–15 June, is purely coincidental. Enjoy the educational story :)
Seekers of the HOLOLIFE, Episode II/V:
The repurposed windmill-turned-laboratory loomed against the twilight sky, its massive wooden sails silhouetted against the fading light. Nestled on the outskirts of Leiden in the Netherlands, near a secretive network of canals that ultimately connected to the North Sea, this forgotten structure had become the second sanctuary of the Hololife Movement: a photobiomodulation fortress where light itself became medicine.
The journey from Estonia had been perilous, taking them through the Baltic and into the heart of the Low Countries. Leiden, with its university founded just decades earlier and reputation for intellectual freedom, provided perfect cover for a place where scientific inquiry, though still viewed with suspicion, flourished in the shadows of academic pursuit.
"The spectral intensity has increased threefold since we realigned the primary reflector," announced the Solar Ascendant Mr. Gutierrez, as he adjusted a network of polished mirrors that redirected the waning daylight down through the windmill's central shaft. His UVB light devices built using designs mysteriously encoded in Hermetic texts, transformed the mill's main chamber into a healing theater where calculated light wavelengths penetrated to cellular depths.
The chamber itself was a wonder of hidden engineering. What had once been the grain-grinding mechanism of the mill had been transformed into a precision optical apparatus, using lenses and mirrors originally crafted by Zacharias Janssen, the famed optics pioneer who secretly contributed to the Hololife Movement. His understanding of light's properties went far beyond what was publicly known: his private manuscripts detailed light's effect on mitochondrial function centuries before such cellular structures would be officially discovered.
"Morning exposure to these specific frequencies stimulates cellular energy production," Mr. Gutierrez explained who had risked everything to bring them manuscripts preserved from the purges of the Catholic Church. "Janssen understood that sunlight contains healing frequencies that can activate dormant capacities within our bodies."
The Trinity of Renewal
In the eastern alcove of the windmill, the Purity Marshal Mrs. Armstead, worked with focused intensity. Her laboratory was a curious blend of traditional apothecary and something far more advanced: glass vessels connected by copper tubing, water baths maintained at precise temperatures, and crystalline structures that seemed to pulse with their own internal rhythms.
Before her on a polished marble surface lay three distinct substances: a pearlescent liquid in a sealed vial, a fibrous powder of subtle iridescence, and crystalline formations that caught the light like tiny prisms.
"The trinity of renewal," she explained. "Three substances the time pilgrims considered foundational to cellular resilience, yet described in terms that would be incomprehensible to our contemporary alchemists."
She held up the pearlescent liquid, which moved with unusual viscosity, neither fully liquid nor solid. "Liposomal glutathione," she said, her voice lowering as if speaking of sacred mysteries. "The master defender, encapsulated in phospholipid spheres that deliver it intact to cellular sanctuaries. The time travelers described it as the guardian of cellular purity that prevents oxidative destruction."
Her fingers moved to the iridescent powder. "Collagen peptides, but not as our butchers and tanners would understand them. These are specific fragments, precise amino acid sequences that signal regeneration in the connective matrix of the body."
Finally, she lifted the crystalline formation, turning it so it caught the light in hypnotic patterns. "Perhaps most mysterious of all is Magnesium-L-Threonate, a compound that exists nowhere in nature as we know it. It is an alchemical combination of magnesium with L-threonic acid, a metabolite of vitamin C. The time travelers spoke of it as the key to the mind's fortress, capable of penetrating barriers that exclude other forms of elemental magnesium."
Mrs. Armstead carefully combined precise amounts of each substance in a bowl carved from a material that resembled marble but possessed unusual thermal properties. "The scrolls contain precise instructions for their preparation, yet explain nothing of how such knowledge was acquired," she continued, her scientific precision belying the almost mystical nature of her work. "They speak of mitochondrial support, blood-brain barrier permeability, and telomere stabilization – What ever that means, it works."
As she worked, she recited what sounded like an incantation but was actually a mnemonic formula: "The guardian shields the castle, the messenger repairs the walls, the key unlocks the chamber of thought. Together they form the trinity of renewal."
The Alchemical Brew
In an adjacent chamber that once housed the mill's grain storage, the Longevity Brewmaster Mr. de Wilde, tended to his most prized creation. Steam rose from elaborate copper vessels where he prepared what appeared to be an ordinary coffee beverage, but was in fact an alchemical wonder of cellular rejuvenation.
"The morning elixir is complete," he announced, carefully pouring a dark, aromatic liquid into ceramic vessels. "Coffee beans infused with cellular endurance-boosting chaga mushrooms brought from the Estonian forests, blended with bear bone broth, local wild grass-fed butter, MCT oil extracted through methods centuries ahead of our time, and marine collagen harvested from North Sea creatures."
What Mr. de Wilde kept most secret, however, was the final ingredient: a mysterious powdered substance the travelers had called NMN, or nicotinamide mononucleotide, a precursor to something they referred to as NAD+. This substance, stored in a sealed container that seemed to regulate its own temperature, was described in the scrolls as the molecular key to cellular rejuvenation.
The Metabolic Mathematics
Across the chamber, the Keto Scholar Mr. Greenow, bent over a curious device – a fusion of alchemical apparatus and precision engineering that seemed impossibly advanced for their era. With practiced hands, he collected a small droplet of blood from his fingertip and placed it on a reflective plate within the device. After several moments, the apparatus emitted a soft chime, and he studied the symbols that appeared on its brass display.
"Excellent," he murmured, making notations in a leather-bound journal. "My Glucose-Ketone Index has reached the optimal range of 1.0."
He turned to Mr. Gutierrez, who watched with undisguised curiosity. "The GKI is perhaps the most precise measurement of metabolic efficiency the travelers shared with us. By dividing blood glucose by ketone levels, we can determine the exact state of metabolic flexibility."
Mr. Greenow gestured to a series of brass plates engraved with mathematical formulations. "A GKI below 3.0 indicates the beginning of metabolic efficiency. Below 1.0 is where cellular regeneration accelerates dramatically. The travelers documented how this ratio correlates precisely with longevity outcomes."
The Azure Submersion
Beneath the windmill, in a chamber accessed through a hidden door in the canal-facing wall, the Cryogenic Shaman Mr. Ewin, prepared for his daily ritual. Before approaching the submersion pools that connected directly to the canal, he removed a small vial of brilliant azure liquid from a locked case. With practiced precision, he added several drops to a glass of water, transforming it to a deep, otherworldly blue.
"Methylene blue," he explained to the group that watched with fascination. "A compound the travelers described as a mitochondrial enhancer. It shuttles electrons through cellular pathways, amplifying energy production precisely when the body experiences acute stress."
He sipped the vivid blue solution, his eyes closing momentarily as if perceiving its effects spreading through his system. Then he turned to the cold water pools, where steam rose paradoxically from the frigid surface.
"Cold is information to the body," he explained to Mrs. Armstead, who had joined him to verify the purity of the water. "These submersion protocols reset stress response patterns at the cellular level. Three minutes at precisely four degrees Celsius activates dormant genes that the mysterious Guild of Lensmakers identified through their spectral prisms."
He was observing closely instruments that measured the water's precise thermal properties: "The temperature gradient is perfected, but temperature alone is merely one component. The true power emerges from the combination of breath control, cold exposure, and mental focus."
Then Mr. Ewin guided the group through a series of breathing exercises. These unusual patterns of inhales, holds, and exhales seemed to alter consciousness within minutes.
"Four cycles of hyperventilation followed by breath retention creates a temporary shift in blood chemistry," he instructed. "The ancient Hermetic texts described this as capturing the invisible essence of life, but the travelers explained it more precisely as cultivating resilience through hormetic stress."
The Sonic Alchemy
The most curious aspect of the windmill's transformation was the former storage room now housing the sonic laboratory of the Ritual Engineer, Mr. Heikinpoika. A northern Finnish shamanic practitioner well-versed in the secret arts of the Saami people, the reindeer herders, Heikinpoika brought traditions far older than Christianity to the Hololife Movement. His musical mechanisms that were built to resemble church organs to disguise their true purpose, produced harmonic frequencies that resonated with specific tissues and cellular structures.
"The travelers understood that sound penetrates where light cannot," he explained as he adjusted brass tuning forks calibrated to mathematical ratios described in the forbidden texts. "These sonic patterns synchronize cellular oscillations across organ systems: knowledge the Church considers heretical because it suggests divine harmony can be artificially reproduced."
With reverent movements, Heikinpoika lifted a vargan, or a jew's harp whose metallic tongue he had modified according to specifications in the travelers' scrolls. When placed against his teeth and plucked, it produced overtones that seemed to vibrate not just in the air but within the very cells of those who listened.
"The Saami shamans have known for generations that certain frequencies open pathways between realms," he explained, his accent thickening as he spoke of his ancestral traditions. "What they called spirit journeys, the travelers described as neural-pathway reorganization and enhanced interhemispheric coherence."
He demonstrated a series of rhythms on a frame drum. "Different patterns activate different bodily systems. This rhythm," he played a hypnotic 7/8 sequence, "stimulates what the travelers called the vagal tone – the relaxation response that accelerates healing."
The Gathering of Light
As twilight deepened into night, the Hololife seekers gathered in the central chamber, each sipping from Mr. de Wilde's rejuvenative brew. Their work grew increasingly urgent as rumors spread of Spanish forces intensifying their control over the Low Countries. The Spanish Inquisition had declared such scientific pursuits heretical, particularly those drawing from Hermetic traditions that suggested humans could transcend their natural limitations.
"Stand between the mirrored panels," instructed Mr. Gutierrez, as their Dutch ally hesitantly entered the light chamber. "The frequency will penetrate to your marrow."
The room illuminated with a golden-red glow as Mr. de Wilde engaged the steam engine that powered their sophisticated array of Janssen's lenses. To the uninitiated, it would appear as witchcraft; to the Hololife seekers, it was science.
"I've analyzed the blood samples from before and after treatment," said Mr. Greenow, examining the droplets. "The vitality markers increase threefold after exposure, and the NAD+ levels have stabilized. Most importantly, the GKI has shifted favorably in all subjects. The Hermetic texts spoke truly."
Suddenly Mr. Heikinpoika announced, his face grave: "Spanish soldiers searched the university library today. They seized several professors suspected of harboring banned manuscripts. They have moved closer to discovering us."
Silence fell upon the chamber. Their movement was no longer operating unnoticed.
"Did they find the map to our location?" asked Mr. Ewin, his lips still tinged slightly blue from his earlier ritual.
"No," Mr. Heikinpoika adjusted one of his sonic instruments. "Our Dutch allies encrypted the knowledge in musical notation that appears to be nothing more than liturgical compositions."
The Eastward Flight
The decision was made with the swiftness that had kept the Hololife Movement one step ahead of those who would destroy their knowledge. Before dawn, they had dismantled their most crucial equipment, preserved their rarest compounds, and sealed the most dangerous knowledge within encrypted devices.
As the first light touched the horizon, a small convoy of unmarked wagons departed Leiden, traveling not west toward the coast as the Spanish might expect, but east, toward the German territories and the relative safety of the Thuringian Forest. There, according to the travelers' maps, lay another sanctuary where the confluence of geological formations created ideal conditions for the next phase of their work.
And somewhere in Leiden's narrow streets, soldiers of the Spanish forces converged on an abandoned windmill, finding nothing but empty chambers and incomprehensible symbols etched into the walls: never suspecting that the knowledge they sought was already miles away, moving steadily toward the heart of Europe, preserved for humanity's future.
