Helloflynn.com

Access page to Kevin's server

How server appears when accessed

• Summary: ISOlatedThinker reveals through the secret forum that he used to work at Encom with Kevin Flynn. Having been fired, he snuck away with an old work server of Kevin's. He could only gain access to basic entry, so posted an interface to the server online at http://helloflynn.com. With the publishing of Space Paranoids Online (direct link) the game, still containing much of Flynn's original code, secret barcodes were discovered in each of the 15 levels (sectors). On decoding the barcodes, it was discovered that they could be entered into Flynn's server ([1]) to retrieve hidden files - blueprints and concepts of Lightcycles, Recognizers, other vehicles, and bits of backstory in the Tron world.
• Codes and their hidden files are listed and documented below.
• Badges are awarded on retrieving the secret files with codes found in Sectors 5, 10, and 15 (May 6th), and the memory capture (Nov 17th).

[edit] May 6, 2010

Discovered from barcodes hidden within Space Paranoids Online

[edit] July 22, 2010

Discovered through events taking place during Comic-Con 2010, Identityraid

[edit] November 17, 2010

Discovered through the Arcade Aid arcade quiz version 2 game's bonus level

I just started my book tour, but no matter how far I travel, I can't seem to shake my demons. They seem to linger in my nightmares - half digital, half flesh. I've started leaving reminders of the man I once was: I need to rescue that Kevin Flynn and get back to being a father, a programmer.
This will require some engineering.

Notes: Control is just an illusion. I've learned that I can't control the grid. I can't control my fate and I almost can't control myself. No restart button, no way out.

My latest foray into digital landscape architecture has left me both speechless and effusive, simultaneously.

Notes: Jordan's eyes are a unique hue that doesn't exist anywhere else in the world - that's because they change with every situation. There's the wistful blue that flashes whenever she holds a newborn baby. Then, there's the vibrant green that erupts when I track motor oil into the house <a mistake I won't soon make again>. And, most importantly, there's a the placid hazel that clouds her irises when she's about to kiss me...

I keep referring to her in the present tense. I need to stop doing that.

But, her eyes were more than just aesthetically beautiful - they weree piercing, brilliant portals into her genius. Those eyes envisioned worlds beyond our own. The architectural work she did for Hydecker Designs inspired me to re-imagine the grid. Maybe someday, our structures will coil together like helixes izn[sic] a digital chromosome.

Notes: Artificial intelligence has never been so plausible - new examples are arising every day, every cycle. I feel like a proud parent <again>. I will do all I can to protect these children of the grid from any harm, but I feel the cold breath of a digital reaper, coming to harvest fresh souls. I will fight him.

Notes: Construction is a tricky devil. Every wall must be aptly fortified to ensure the safety of all tenants within - otherwise, they would all be crushed. The construction of a circuit board is similarly exacting. Date storage relies on the stability of an elaborate digital interface, characterized by the sharp, interconnected curves of many fragile metallic fibers. If there's one imperfection in the design, all of this vital information <safety> could get crushed, just like those unlucky tenants.

Notes: Even with everything I've lost, I still consider myself a supremely fortunate man. The finer things in life have all been accessible to me: good food, nice clothes, expensive living quarters. It is possible to envelope yourself with luxury and cut yourself off from the real world, if you choose to do so. Designing my own prison from state-of-the-art concepts and sound architectural theory... sounds crazy, but I wouldn't put it past me.

Notes: I digitized these videos to preserve my memories forever, but now I regret that decision. To see my son and late wife trapped in this pixelated hell - it kills me. The grid is a cold pseudo-realm: it's no place for people so loving as my family. People don't belong there. Sam doesn't belong there.