“Demons may promise you the world for committing some atrocity, but you will find if you accept their deals that you are left with only your guilt. Honesty is not in their nature.”
St. Boris, August 3862

There is a town in the fenland. It was once old: older than the Government, older than the Commission, older than most scripture.

Then the Government and the Commission came with bulldozers and explosives, and then with bricks and mortar, and the town was made new again.

Bexgate was rebuilt to be a model city. Not only was it an ideal place for the pious to live, but also the safest and most closely-watched town under the Government’s control. It was rebuilt with only one point of exit and entry – the train station at the far eastern end of the town – and dispensation to enter the town was only granted to a select few. The authorities made the town a place to conduct sensitive research away from the malevolent eyes of demons, and under their care it flourished as a centre for biomedical and computing research. No other, yet more sensitive projects have been conducted in the town.

Nowadays, Bexgate is less important than it once was. A select few researchers continue to labour at the Special Institutes, but the majority of research has long since been transferred to other cities. Its declining importance, alongside the Commission’s success in the war on demonkind, have reduced the need for close monitoring. Travel to and from Bexgate’s train station is virtually unrestricted, internal checkpoints are no longer enforced, ordinary citizens now share the Commission’s phone lines to the outside world, and there is even talk of opening up the fenlands for further expansion.