It was a short story I read in a Best of 20xx (I don't remember the exact date, but pre2015) collection. It's so memorable, and I retell it to people now and again, but I can't find it anywhere! The name of the story is the name of the fictional Russian nightclub that serves as the setting, as well as the legendary gangster who built it.
Story goes like this.
Russian gangsters, the protagonist is the 2nd in command (we'll call him "P"). The Boss is taking him to a famous exotic nightclub but doesn't know P has saved up a ton of $$ and is planning to leave the game for good with his exotic dancer girlfriend. The club is named after another infamous old gangster who, upon the club's grand opening, disappeared into it, never to be seen again.
They enter the club into the main ballroom and take a seat at a fancy table before a central stage. This level of the club is very posh, filled with people of means. P knows that every morning, before the crowd turns over, there's an auction on this stage where the most beautiful dancer presents the crowd with a single pristine red rose. It's all show, for the high rollers to show off how much money they can throw away, but that rose is coveted nonetheless. P's boss introduces P to a suspicious associate, and after the formalities, P takes his leave to meet up with his girlfriend. This is where the story begins to get psychedelic.
A floor down, P meets his girl while she's working and takes a seat at a bar. He orders 2 shots of the club's house vodka (also named after the mysterious og gangster who built the place). After he takes the shots, he finds himself eerily walking alone in a snowy frozen wooded park. Suddenly, the suspicious associate of his boss comes out of nowhere and attacks him, ostensibly on the boss's orders. Our P loses this violent fight to the death, and as his eyes fade to black, he wakes up at the bar again with 2 empty shot glasses in front of him.
Shaking off the intense "dream," P leaves the basement floor of the club to find someone he can pay his large sum of $$ to, to buy his woman's freedom. This journey takes him up an elevator this time, and past a filthy and grotesquely emaciated janitor. As P passes the janitor they lock eyes, and in an instant P knows that this man is in fact, in the flesh, the owner of this club, the infamous og himself. With a silent and mangled grin, the decrepit janitor reaches out a gnarled open hand toward P, to receive the money. P knows this moment is crucial, but he hesitates when his sensibility demands a more formal transaction. The moment passes, the janitor turns back to his work. P is forced to walk on, angry and deeply disturbed, down the hall, to the next room of the club.
This floor has several rooms of themed masquerade, and as P stumbles through them, he finds himself talking to people he hasn't seen in ages. Some are family and friends, while some are old enemies of his. After calming down from his encounter with the horrible remnant of the club owner, he begins to realize that some of the people he's surrounded by should be dead. He's seen many of them die himself, and yet here they are, drinking and dancing the night away. He flees the scene, afraid he will somehow be stuck in that place of shambling walking dead, until he feels snowflakes again on his face.
P is in the snowy park again, but this time he knows the game. The cat-and-mouse game of death is P's home territory, and after the night he's had, he is more than ready for it. P stays in the treeline and waits for his assailant to reveal himself. Soon enough, his boss's new associate walks into the clearing, completely unaware of P. P sneaks up behind him and attacks, this time with vengeful ferocity and the clear upper hand. As he watches the light leave his assailant's eyes, all around him his surroundings dissolve into curtains that raise into the ceiling to the sound of thunderous applause, and P finds himself in the main ballroom again, center stage. He notices his boss, still seated at his original table, laughing and clapping with a thoroughly entertained smile on his face.
P silently climbs offstage and sits back down with his boss. He is just in time for the rose auction. Lo and behold, it's P's girlfriend on stage presenting the rose to the audience. As she begins to take bids P sits exhausted, and feels like this may be the last chance to buy freedom for him and his partner. He stands and offers his entire briefcase of savings for the rose, and not a single attendee will raise his offer. She saunters over to him, and says that this is it, it's over, and everything is ready for them to leave in the morning. She looks at him emotionless and says he had his chance to pay the owner, and he made his choice to keep the money. She takes the briefcase, presents him with the rose, and walks away.
P sits down again, and time passes in a blur until his boss claps him on the shoulder and tells him it's time to leave. They go outside to the boss's limousine, and P is left reflecting that after all that, it's back to work tomorrow after all.

Throwaway account since he knows my Reddit.
Today my husband is asking for space while I literally am being met over and over again with the silent treatment on top of the repetitive physical distance (like him saying he needs space but only he knows for how long. But all he said is he needs space). This is everytime I voice how I feel that leads up to an argument or whenever I can’t accept things, it has gotten to the point where I have been begging him to stay. After every single argument, just to see him leave.
Last night was the first time where he was sitting next to me after months of neglect and having to deal with my voices and anxiety alone. On top of disrespecting myself in begging him to stay and seeing him leave though the door over and over again in my head. Hence I couldn’t accept it yesterday. I know this is unfair but I can’t help but think “Why now? Why didn’t you do this before? How dare you? Honestly maybe I like being alone more now even if my thoughts are dark.. etc etc” It’s hard… I am aware that we are humans and I want to give myself grace but I keep fighting. Fighting for his love. While I’m empty yet giving unconditional love. Only to see him walk out of the door multiple times to trigger my abandonment issues. Don’t get me wrong now, he went through hell fire in his childhood too. Got bullied in school for years because of both parents abandoning him and him growing up with his grandparents from his mom’s side. Me too, just that my parents were physically there but emotionally so absent that I always wondered why I’m even here and secretly wished they weren’t so I could at least say that they were absent like he does… Now I am not saying mine is bigger or his is. It’s never a competition of pain. But when it comes to him it feels like it is always justified and he once just pulls away cause needs space and I ALWAYS check up on him. Because I’m aware of this trauma and try to accommodate. This time however I vowed to let him come to me first cause I am TIRED of doing so over a year now and being the person to keep pushing despite being done myself. And then getting punished instead of being appreciated for it. And feeling like he just (doesn’t or?) simply can’t be there for me like that anymore. I feel like it’s selfish of him but idk if I can even claim that cause I see how depressed he looks and behaves…. It’s just a lot and I am extremely confused after being neglected for so long even if it’s “justified” from his side… For now, I am just taking time out to spend with my loved ones since I have been neglecting them for a long time in the process. And taking their word for staying quiet just to see if he will reach out first since they’re aware of the situation and me being the person who always does this.
Financially I am also thinking where all the money goes considering he keeps getting fines and got into an accident twice this past year. Where he had to file for an insurance claim but couldn’t because of the language barrier. I help him with those things now, from mails to paperwork for his fines, and many more.. But it takes such a mental toll on me that I have no energy left to think about what I want to do, what I want for the future, for my life, for my work, etc etc. He seems to be so absent minded and forgetful nowadays that it feels like I married a different man for months than the one I fell in love with. He was so active, considerate and understanding. Idk who this man is anymore other than feeling like I am talking to a wall and who prefers his alone time smoking away his cigarettes more than being with me. Any concern i voice is seen as nagging, even if done in an compassionate and understanding manner (which I admit is hard for me cause I used to have a short fuse but I have worked so hard for it and can’t help but feel resentment. Even if he says he is over it. His actions prove otherwise) and how I should have more understanding for him instead of telling him that he is slacking off. Because then he either leaves again or starts to blame himself to the point where he says I’m better off without him even when I beg him to work on himself cause I see his potential. He just has these bad voices in his head that he lets them take over and it just hurts me to see him like that but I am also very aware that it has affected me for long enough where I feel obligated to take a step back and to really sit with my feelings so I can think about everything that has been happening. Idk anymore aside from reflecting myself....
If you made it this far, thank you for reading! Any tips will be MUCH appreciated and needed!

After ruin we learn that after many years The Mimic has been set free after Cassie follows a fake Gregory, but why did Gregory betray Cassie at the end? Well what if it wasnt The Mimic being the "big baddie" of Ruin, but in fact Gregory?! Well im here to explain why, Gregory is said to be a Robot by MatPat, right? and if we were to believe that theory, than what if it has something to do with Afton? now many people are gonna say that Glitchtrap is The Mimic, but in another theory I placed many facts that debunk that theory (See here) and there is more things that prove my first statement about Gregory being the villain, which is what I will explain now, you see people think that Gregroy is patient 46 and GGY, but people ignore that, but, this isnt about Patient 46, but GGY, GGY is a master hacker, and serves a strange bunny, but remember that, remember that for later, you see, Glitchtrap should be gone, now that Vanness and Burntrap is, right? WRONG, apparantly in HW2 hes still there, and thriving, but dont you find it strange that most SB characters are there, other than Gregory, strange huh, but now, lets talk about Ruin, we follow someone with the voice of a strange Gregory voce who turns out to be the Mimic, but what about Helpy, people ignore this too, Helpy apparantly was hacked by a strange purple energy, which isnt purple "So it cant be Glitchtrap, right" Maybe not him, but Gregory?! Gregory is mainly assosciated with Bright Orange, its the color of his eyes, the color of his hiding acheivment, and the color helpy is controlled by, now remember helpy helps Cassie throughout Ruin, while when Gregory uses it, it saves his spot, but its helpy right? Well if GGY servers a strange rabbit, and like Glitchtrap, GGY and Gregory are master hackers, right? the pieces start to fall together about the strange rabbit, huh? Its Afton, and explains why hes not gone, without a Physical Body, Glitchtrap cant do anything, however you might say HW2 was in VR, however In Character, its a testing place for fazbear employees, and Gregory serving the strange rabbit also explains why he sounds strange in the elevator, and you might say its The Mimic, but mimicking voices isnt something The Mimic can do, but also William Afton, but not just as Glitchtrap, he made an Anamatronic who can mimic the voices of parents, and thats the lovable Funtime Freddy, William is also the only person who knows how to hack, other than Vanessa HUH, and also both seem to only hack Anamatronics, and have some connection to Arcade Games HUH, and also, both people have different personalities when their around other people HUH, three coincidences, huh, but that one dosnt count, anyway GGy winning every game, aslo mainly has a high-score thats Yellowish Gold, "So it cant be Gregory, right?" Well the so does the "Dodge and Wave" Acheivment, and also, Gold is also mainly connected to things like Springbonnie, but thats not really important, and also If Gregory is a robot, it explains why he would be easier to hack, and also when Freddy says he senses he is broken, it dosent have to be because he is the Crying Child, but because he is fighting to gain control over his body, and becoming an entirely different person (GGY) broke him, just like Jeremy being a different person, broke him, but to the point to stop himself, he commit suicide, it also explains why he sounds infuriating at the start of Security Breach, and what would you know it, when the REAL Gregory shows up on the speakers, his voice sounds simple and fake, just like Tape Girl at the end AKA Vannessa, HUH, now thats four, and oh wait THERES MORE! even though simple and plain was The Mimic, there is no reason for him to speak to Cassie again convincing her that he was a threat to the world, and also, The Anamatronics going after him dosnt mean they want to kill him, they arnet possesed (Possibly other than Glamrock Freddy) and actually say they want to help him (But I do think that Monty did want to kill him) until he destroyed them, there is no reason for him to destroy them every time, and it seems a bit familiar, leading them into their own places, just to kill and dissasemble them, and Gregory shdent know how to install other Anamatronic parts, and also one more thing that confirms hes a robot, when Vanny gets close to him, his eyes get static, but can still see her, im not doing MatPats Crying Child Theory, but his eyes being Staticy isnt something Human, and the fact that he can be "Broken" is still a bit wierd, and the fact that Gregory is so aggressive, and has no reason to take Cassie down, even when The Mimic cant follow, to the place she was getting away from, Gregory having "Friends" makes no sense as he was only friends with Cassie, and you could say Glamrock Freddy, but he cant hack the comms, and also, how would he have access to them without hacking, he also can control GlamRock Freddy, you can say any child in him, but the fact that its all wiery, and he can use wires to charge freddy, and possibly control things, leads me to believe he didnt control Freddy because he let him, but because he controlled him, and on stage, most people presume its because Glitchtrap hacked him, MatPat believes that its because he saw Gregory as Crying Child, but despite his eyes scanning over the crowd, he was staring at a blank area, and his stomach hatch is the only place not glitching, and it says child detected,however it was the system that detects him, not Freddy, and with that, Gregory already was in the stomach hatch when he awoke, AND he already can control him, thats a bit strange huh? and finally, Gregory can hide in the charging station, which would presumably electrecute and kill a Human, and there is no "Good" reason for him to lie about his friends being destroyed unless he was manipulating him from the start, and with all that, I beleive that Gregory is the Villain, but hey thats just a theory a Game Theory! (Thanks for reading!)

Author’s Note:
Upvotes and comments go a long way in helping me reach a larger audience <3
First
Inside GB-2
“Huh, that wasn’t there before,” Ron said, pointing to a new hole in the wall – another passageway.
Henry turned to look where Ron pointed. Sure enough, there was a new doorway. It must’ve been a section that opened after they restored the power. “Huh, yeah. Let’s check it out.”
He went through, finding a short hallway past it and another room just beyond. Henry signaled for his team to form up, preparing to breach. As they stepped in, they found themselves in a brightly lit room filled with various types of furniture – empty pedestals, comfortable-looking single couches, and empty desks with opened cabinets.
Henry stepped further into the room, eyeing the oddly arranged furniture. The single couches were lined up in neat rows, all facing the same direction – towards the empty desks. It was like some sort of waiting room, but for what?
“Is it just me, or are these couches set up weird?” Isaac asked, voicing the question on everyone’s mind. “I mean, who lines up a bunch of single couches like this?”
“Strange, indeed,” Sera agreed. “They seem arranged as though for spectators, yet naught lies before them to behold.”
Like a movie theater, Henry thought. However, there weren’t any screens or holograms to watch. If there was a clue, it would probably be within the couches themselves.
Dr. Anderson approached one of the desks. “Perhaps this was some sort of office or workspace? The desks and cabinets certainly suggest that.”
Isaac then decided to touch one of the seats, eliciting no reaction. He pushed further, sitting down on one of them. At that point, the couch began to adjust its form to better suit Isaac’s envirosuit, as if able to optimize its comfort for the user. Then, a nozzle slowly stretched up from the seat’s headrest area, stopping just short of Isaac’s neck. “Woah!” Isaac bolted up as the nozzle bonked against his helmet.
“Neural interface, maybe?” Henry wondered. “I think we should leave this to the researchers… unless you wanna volunteer as a lab rat?”
“Hell nah,” Isaac vigorously declined the offer. “Hey, there isn’t anything on my helmet is there?”
Henry dusted off the back of Isaac’s helmet with his glove. “Nope, you’re clear. Just gotta hope it ain’t grey goo.”
He could see the dread and uncertainty through Isaac’s visor. Henry gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Well, think about it this way: if it really was grey goo, it would’ve gotten to us – or the Spiranids, for that matter – long ago. C’mon, let’s secure the next room.”
With a nod, Isaac fell in line behind Henry as they moved towards the doorway leading to the adjacent room. Peeking inside, it couldn’t be further from the rest of the room’s they had encountered so far; not at all what they could’ve possibly expected inside an ancient, high-tech alien facility. It was expansive, with a layout that reminded Henry of a high-end restaurant. Comfortable booths lined the walls, while tables of varying sizes filled the central space. The furniture looked almost human – perhaps even indistinguishably so.
The room was tinted with a soft, cozy yellow light. The warm and inviting ambiance felt soothing compared to the clinical feel of the previous areas. The lighting, combined with the plush booths and elegant tables, gave Henry a nostalgic impression.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Ryan remarked. “Think they got any cheesecakes?”
If it wasn’t for the alien decor and helping of sleek devices scattered around the room, Henry would’ve thought they were back home. Hell, there was even a bar, filled with exotic liquors that could probably fetch millions at an auction – or give them the trip of their lives. Beside it however was something unusual. Where he might’ve expected a path leading to the kitchen, he instead found a wall with a slight, rectangular-shaped recess that was just big enough for a tray.
He glanced at Isaac, who returned a knowing look. “Replicators,” Isaac said.
Henry smirked. “Personally, I’m partial to synthesizer, but to each their own.”
They gathered around the wall, which didn’t seem to respond to their presence. Taps on the wall didn’t seem to do anything, either. Henry considered probing further, but decided against it. “Alright, let’s not take any chances. We’ll make a note of this for the research teams to analyze later. Let’s keep looking around.”
Henry split apart from the others, pairing with Ron as they continued to walk around the room. They soon came across another doorway on the far side of the room, which opened up into a short corridor that led into multiple sets of doors. Each had a symbol on the wall beside the doors – one that depicted the basic figure of a person.
Ron pushed open one of the doors, taking a peek inside. “Looks like even the Gatebuilders needed restrooms.”
Finally! “Alright, let’s take a quick break here. Bring everyone else over.”
Thankfully, the amenities within were easily comparable to those of modern society. The toilet looked like a toilet, and the sink resembled a sink. Even in a space as mundane as this though, the Gatebuilder’s technology was evident: self-cleaning surfaces and enough technology to put a high-quality Japanese bidet toilet to shame. At least, that was just from the look of things. Henry didn’t think now would be the best time to check whether the restroom had ass-washing robots or not.
After a few minutes, Henry regrouped with the rest of the team around a central table in the ‘restaurant’. Dr. Anderson was already present, his archaeological kit opened and a spread of alien items organized on the table.
“Ah, Captain!” Dr. Anderson noticed him approaching. “We found cabinets that weren’t empty. Most of the artifacts appear to be personal effects.” He held up a necklace, emphasizing his point. “Jewelry, memorabilia, and some other artifacts that I – admittedly – can’t quite describe.”
Dr. Anderson pointed his pickup tool at a small disc laid out on a padded mat. “It hasn’t shown any active properties yet. It’s rather peculiar; it seems to be a solid disc. Lightweight, unblemished surface, no visible markings or etchings.”
“Have you tried touching it directly?” Henry asked.
Dr. Anderson frowned, manipulating the claws of his pickup tool. “Well, not directly.” Catching the implications in Henry’s query, he continued, “I’ve checked for radiation, toxins – all clear. While I’d advise against direct contact, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the least bit curious.”
Henry nodded. Yeah, the Doc was probably right, but what was discovery without risk? He reached out and picked it up, rotating it in his hands. As his gloved fingers brushed against the surface, the disc suddenly emitted a soft glow.
Henry flinched slightly, almost dropping the disc in surprised. As he fumbled with it, the disc seemed to respond to his touch. Suddenly, a series of objects materialized on the table, appearing out of thin air.
“Oh, shit!” Ron exclaimed. “It just… spawned a bunch of stuff!”
Henry stared at the new items. Several containers, probably holding some kind of food, were still sealed tight and impossibly effective at insulating its contents. It was crazy to think that the food inside might still be hot after who knows how long.
Next to the containers was a bracelet. Possibly normal, possibly enchanted or integrated with technology they couldn’t hope to understand. There was also a bottle of some bright blue liquid – probably for drinking, but there was no way to be sure until Perdue tested it. And then there was the picture, showing a strikingly human couple, holding each other underneath a gorgeous alien sky. It reminded him of memorabilia people would sometimes keep in their wallets, though why humans were there was a mystery.
The last object the disc spat out was a thin, transparent sheet. Coincidentally, it was about the same size as a smartphone. If he had to guess, it probably had the same function as one, too.
“Incredible,” Dr. Anderson gawked at the items. “The disc must be the Gatebuilders’ version of a wallet, somehow using dimensional storage technology!”
“Akin to the Holding Bags,” Kelmithus noticed. He peered into his own Holding Bag, his expression indicating that he was connecting the dots. “Fascinating!”
Dr. Anderson then inspected the image, his face reflecting the same confusion Henry felt when he first saw it. While they continued to sort through the items, Henry explored the sheet further. The moment he tapped the screen, a holographic interface sprung into existence above it.
What he had initially thought was a simple hologram was something far more advanced, almost indistinguishable from reality itself. Almost instantly, they were surrounded by mountains and valleys, details springing up to form a realistic, three-dimensional map.
It was like a pocket holodeck. The only anchors the projection had were the various icons and pockets of text floating around – and the fact that the hologram was transparent enough for him to see his surroundings and his teammates.
Sera seemed to be the most shocked out of all of them. He couldn’t blame her. The sight was surprising enough for himself, who was even familiar with the concept through sci-fi; how much more alien would it seem to someone from – effectively – the past?
“I’ve not beheld such a spell… ever!” she exclaimed softly, pausing to gather her thoughts. “Hold on…” she continued, pointing to the distant peaks. “Why, yon mountain range! Does it not strike you as familiar?”
“Huh?” Ron squinted at it. “Does it?”
“No, yeah, it does!” Isaac said. “Shit, uh, is that the Ovinne Mountain Range?”
Henry brought up the file for the Ovinne Mountain Range on his visor, comparing it to the hologram. “Huh, yeah, it is. What’s a map of that doing in here, though?”
Dr. Anderson raised his hands in the air and spread them apart, mimicking a zoom. Lucky for them, the alien tech seemed to understand what they were going for. Now up close and in full detail, the Ovinne Mountain Range dominated the room. Somewhere in the mountains, an icon that looked like a pair of glasses sat right on top of a Gatebuilder tower, barely poking out of the mountainside.
Ryan crossed his arms as he scrutinized the hologram. “Is this what, Find My iPhone?”
“Hmm… rather likely,” Dr. Anderson agreed. “This device must be some sort of Locator.”
“Locator, huh?” Having this clue was an incredible breakthrough, but he noticed something else. “And right where the Ovinne Mountain Campaign’s supposedly taking place, at that.”
“Indeed, that you mention it, such alignment is surely noteworthy,” Kelmithus remarked. His voice took on a more excited note, “Be it fate, perhaps?”
Henry smirked. “Hah, you’re sounding a bit like Sera, now. Well, looks like fate’s telling us where to go next. Let’s pack this up and head back.”
They carefully stowed the various artifacts in their holding bags, Henry holding on to the Locator. They made their way back to the locker room where they first entered, everyone excited for the next step in their mission.
Henry stepped through the airlock first, emerging on the other side. As he did so, a faint sound caught his attention. It was distant, muffled, but definitely not a sound that belonged to this facility. He wanted to take off the envirosuit, but it seemed that had to wait.
Ron came through the airlock after him. “Bro, you think –”
Henry held up a hand, stopping him short. He raised his weapon, picking up on the ‘something’s not right’ vibe.
Activating his infrared vision and using the laser mounted on his M7, Henry searched for signs of thermal distortions, just like he’d done back at Duke Vancor’s mansion. Ron did the same. As the rest of the team emerged from the airlock, they quickly caught on to the situation. Without a word, they joined them in securing the room.
After clearing the locker room, Henry signaled to move on to the lab next door. It was just as empty as the locker room, but now the sounds were more audible, definitely coming from the hallway just outside. Instructing his team to hold still, he crept toward the doorway to investigate.
He peeked around the corner, and felt his stomach drop. There, in the main hallway, was a group of soldiers. They were decked out in distinctive black armor and cloaks. They had no identifiable markings or insignia on their armor, but it was obvious – these were Nobians.
Henry pulled back, returning to his team. “Contact outside. At least a dozen Nobians securing the hallway.”
Ron’s expression grew serious. “Shit. Any idea on their entry point?”
Henry positioned himself behind a desk, aiming his weapon at the doorway. “Probably the same way we came in.”
“Main corridor’s the only play, huh?” Ryan said.
The main hallway only had one line of sight, and it just happened to be the only way out. Well, the only one they could reasonably access. The facility probably had other exits or fancy teleporters, but they’d already scoured the area for the former and wouldn’t be able to figure out the latter.
“Dozen hostiles doesn’t seem like a lot,” Isaac pointed out, taking out another Black Hornet from his bag. “We’re still good on ammo, too.”
Ron shook his head. “Dozen? Yeah, a dozen that we can see.”
“Owens is right,” Henry agreed. “We can’t confirm their numbers outright. If I had to guess, it would probably be at least fifty. Manageable, but I’d prefer that to be our last resort.”
“How might we fare with a disturbance?” Sera offered.
Kelmithus gripped his staff. “I might conjure an echo of noise distant hence. It shan’t last, but it can afford us enough time for our escape.”
Kelmithus’ plan seemed like it could work, but only if the Nobians didn’t know they were here. “No,” Henry disagreed. “They’ve seen our MRAPs outside. We’d get surrounded.”
“How about negotiation?” Dr. Anderson suggested, a hopeful note in his voice.
“Negotiation? With the Nobians?” Kelmithus questioned.
They all knew what the Nobians were like. It really did come off as a ridiculous idea, but what if Dr. Anderson was right? The archaeologist defended himself, “I know, I know. However, we have yet to confirm their hostility, and it would not serve us well to initiate hostilities with the Nobians.”
Taking in the silence as contemplation, he continued, “If talks break down, we hold our ground here. It’s not ideal, but we’ll control the engagement area and prevent them from flanking us.”
Henry reviewed the situation again. 12 hostiles, but they should expect the worse, so at least 50 hostiles plus failed negotiations. Holding the only way out, they were likely spread out between the hallway, the cave system, and possibly even the forest outside. Dr. Anderson’s plan was solid, but he had a few minor qualms. In particular, holding the line meant possibly exhausting themselves in a battle of attrition.
“Alright. We’ll open with negotiations. I’m skeptical, but it's worth a shot. Should that fail, we can’t engage in a drawn-out conflict. We’ll disrupt their positions and quickly move to the cave outside.”
“Smoke grenades and flashbangs,” Ryan muttered.
“Affirmative,” Henry said, nodding in agreement. “If we can’t see them, we’ll level the playing field so they can’t see us.”
“Captain,” Kelmithus quickly interjected, “Bid me aid your efforts. I’ve insight enough to create fog. I’ve learned from our encounter with the Sentinel Lindwyrm.”
“You can replicate that heavy fog?” Ron asked.
Kelmithus held up his palm, producing an opaque puff of steam to prove his point. “Indeed so, Lieutenant. Adequately do these envirosuits shield us, that I might harness more extreme temperatures for more effective casting.”
Henry was impressed with how quickly the archmage grasped such a concept. “Good. Yen, get that drone into the cave. We’ll hold for updates.”
Yen nodded, carrying out Henry’s order silently. The drone’s feed directly streamed to their HUDs, and after a few minutes, Isaac looked up. “Done.”
Henry analyzed the data. They had visual confirmation of a dozen Nobians inside the facility itself and a staggering forty outside, both in the cave and around the cave entrance. It was an assumption, but there probably weren’t many cloaked soldiers past the hallway. He sighed; the worst-case scenario would have them facing a hundred men in total.
It was a challenge, but the drone’s intel granted them a critical tactical advantage. He analyzed his minimap, selecting and sharing a route with minimal enemy contact. “After clearing the facility’s entrance, we’ll proceed along the designated path. Upon exit, I’ll deploy a flare to signal our movement to the MRAPs for extraction. We will then rendezvous with Zulu-9 and coordinate with air support before re-engaging to secure the site.”
His team nodded, fully on board with the plan. He took a deep breath to steel himself before checking his watch – 16:24. “Alright, time to show ourselves.”
Letting his M7 sling over his chest, Henry prepared two flash grenades – one in each hand – before stepping out. With his team in tow, he moved to the center of the hallway, catching the attention of one of the Nobian patrols.
“Attention, Nobian forces! We request parley. I am Captain Donnager of Alpha Team, Tier 6 Adventurer. We are on an official quest sanctioned by the Adventurer’s Guild. We have no intention of hostilities and seek to discuss our presence and objectives to ensure mutual understanding.”
As Henry’s words echoed through the hallway, the Nobian soldiers snapped into action. He heard the sounds of bowstring being drawn taut and the rasp of metal as swords cleared their scabbards. His hands tightened around the flash grenades.
He kept his gaze steady, projecting a sense of calm; of confidence – enough to convince the Nobians that even outnumbered, he and his team were still no match for them. More soldiers joined the patrol, until all twelve of the previously identified Nobians were upon them. They kept their distance, but Henry could feel the tension boiling.
Just as the standoff seemed to reach a critical point, the air in front of them seemed to fold outward from itself, like watching the effects of gravitational lensing on light. A figure coalesced from the distortion – so this is what invisibility magic looked like.
The man was broad-shouldered and tall, seeing eye-to-eye with him, even despite the extra inches in height the envirosuit gave. As the last wisps of the cloaking magic faded away, Henry found himself staring into a pair of piercing gray eyes that seemed to bore into his very soul.
The newcomer had an angular face and was clad in black armor with a different sheen than the black armor of his comrades. Silver trimmings and an insignia emblazoned on his chestplate – a dagger through a swirl of mist – differentiated his status. A cloak of the same dark hue billowed behind him as he walked forward and drew his sword.
Keeping his sword to the side, he stopped a respectable ten meters away from Henry. “I am Carvus Alnect Virelius, Umber Vicearch of the Order of the Shadow.” He then pointed his sword at Henry, declaring, “Of desecrating sovereign Nobian territory, you stand accused.”
As Carvus spoke, more soldiers materialized alongside him, shimmering into existence as they dropped their cloaking spells. Henry had expected this to happen, but seeing it play out still sent a chill down his spine. How many more were still lying in wait?
The Vicearch kept his weapon on Henry, eyes narrowing. “Commander unto commander, I offer a choice: cede your Holding Bags, that secure passage may be granted unto you. Refuse, and you shall be declared as spies and enemies of the Nobian Empire, your lives forfeit to swift execution.”
READ 2 WEEKS AHEAD: Season Finale Chapter 17 is now available for Tier 2 Manifest Fantasy Patrons and higher!
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/drdoritosmd
Discord: https://discord.gg/wr2xexGJaD
Next

Sorry if the title is confusing! My husband is still a little upset about this, so figured I’d ask here. Names are fake.
Last weekend, my husband “Thomas” (23M) and I (23F) were flying back home after visiting my parents. We are on a budget, so we had booked Basic Economy tickets - if you aren’t familiar with BE tickets, you pay less for them, but you don’t get to select your seat ahead of time. This meant that Thomas and I likely wouldn’t be next to each other on the plane, but we were fine with that. It’s only a 2 hour flight.
After we arrived at the airport, we got our seat assignments and saw that we were both in aisle seats, right behind each other (17B and 18B). It was a small, regional plane with only 2 seats per row (instead of the usual 3). Because of this, Thomas and I agreed that if either of our rows ended up being empty, we’d switch and sit next to each other.
We boarded the plane, and I sat down in my seat, 17B. The seat next to me was empty when I sat down, however, Thomas’s seatmate was already in his row, in 18A. When Thomas sat down in 18B, I noticed that his seat mate (a middle aged woman) was very overweight, and could not put the armrest between her and Thomas down. She was probably taking up 1/3 of his seat, and he was squished in next to her. I felt badly for Thomas, and hoped that my row would end up being empty, so that he could move.
However, my seat mate showed up soon after that. She looked to be in her early 20s, like me. I sent Thomas a “Sorry!” text, and then put my phone on airplane mode, not thinking much of it. The plane took off soon afterwards.
When we landed and got off of the plane, Thomas seemed upset with me. I asked him what was wrong, and he said that I should’ve asked my seatmate to switch seats with him on the plane. He said that she was smaller than he was, and could’ve fit next to the overweight woman more easily. Then, him and I could’ve sat together.
I told Thomas that I wasn’t comfortable doing that, especially since it was obvious that I would’ve been asking the girl to be okay with having her space encroached on. I said that it wasn’t a fair trade, and I thought it would’ve been rude to ask. He got upset, and said that I should’ve been thinking of him, not my seatmate. He then said that I should’ve offered to switch my own seat with him once he saw that he was supposed to sit next to an overweight passenger, and that it was rude of me not to. But I’m not actually that much smaller than Thomas (I’m 5’10 and he’s 6’0), so I don’t think that would’ve made much of a difference.
I don’t think that I was TAH in this situation, but Thomas seems to still be upset about it - he’s mentioned it to other people once or twice, and at least one of his friends said I should’ve asked the girl to switch. So AITAH here? Should I have asked my neighbor to switch seats, or did I make the right call?

Author’s Note:
If you enjoy the story so far, please consider upvoting and commenting! These go a long way in helping the story reach a larger audience. (Also, reddit removes all my formatting for some reason so if you want a fully formatted read, check out my story on RoyalRoad)
READ 2 WEEKS AHEAD: Season Finale Chapter 17 is now available for Tier 2 Manifest Fantasy Patrons and higher!
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/drdoritosmd
Discord: https://discord.gg/wr2xexGJaD
First
Three, two, one... execute.
Ron peeked around the corner, his M4E1 Carl Gustaf already loaded with standard HEAT rounds. The rest of Alpha Team stacked up behind him or behind Ryan, who was on the other side of the doorway. Through the opening, they could see a nightmarish tangle of webs and egg sacs, with the skittering shapes of Spiranids lurking in the shadows in the far corners of the room.
The Queen was positioned in the center of the room, completely exposed by a cluster of eggs. Henry watched as Ron leveled his Gustaf, taking aim at the Queen while they stayed along the wall to ensure Ron’s backblast was clear. It should have been an easy kill, but a flicker of movement caught Henry’s eye.
A blob of white flew across his vision, smacking into Ron just as he fired his weapon. The thick strands of webbing bypassed Kelmithus’ shielding and wrapped around him, sending him flying back a couple of meters. He landed on his back, his body and launcher completely stuck to the floor by the condensed silk.
Around the same time, the Gustaf’s projectile struck the Queen’s abdomen section. The resulting blast tore through its exoskeleton but was far from a fatal blow. The Queen shrieked, a sound far deeper than Henry expected.
“Fuck!” Ron shouted, struggling to break free from the webbing.
Henry exhaled. They were a man down, but helping him had to wait; the not-dead Queen and its minions took precedence. It would be great if he had another launcher in his own Holding Bag, but that was something he’d have to bring up to Chief Cole later. Henry tossed his grenades into the room, the pops mingling with the screeches of injured Spiranids. Ryan struck simultaneously, throwing his own collection into the mix. Like firecrackers, the explosives were violent but short-lived.
As the chaos subsided, Henry pushed in. Raising his shotgun, he tore through a Spiranid that pounced at him, its carcass smoldering from the white phosphorous. Beside him, Isaac, Ryan, and Dr. Anderson’s shots rang out, tearing through their own sectors of fire.
Almost immediately upon their entry, the Queen surged forward with terrifying speed. It reared its head back like it was about to vomit, mandibles covered in a sick, yellowish color. Henry recognized immediately what it was trying to do. “Acid, move!”
Henry dove away from his previous position, taking a shot at another Spiranid that had taken the opportunity to jump at him while its master was preparing to attack. He narrowly escaped the lethal spray as it jetted toward him. The acid splattered on the ground where they had stood not even a second before, sizzling fiercely as it corroded the thick webbing sprawled across the floor. He noticed as he ran that, rather curiously, the acid was simply puddling on the floor. There was no damage to the floor itself, but if it could tear apart high-quality monster silk just like that, he didn’t want to find out what it could do to an envirosuit.
Henry glanced back after blasting apart his third Spiranid. His teammates were fine – Ryan helping him keep the Queen’s attention, Sera already on her way to Ron, and the others taking care of the smaller Spiranids. He tried to get a quick headcount of how many Spiranids they’d already eliminated. Between their guns, Kelmithus’ magic, and the grenades, he estimated they had killed at least a dozen so far. Solid progress, but the fact that they weren’t able to take out the Queen with their first strike was an issue.
Henry rolled to his left as the Queen pounced on his previous position. It was fucking fast, like a Goliath birdeater but scaled up – and with nasty abilities that really shouldn’t belong on a creature like this. He recovered quickly and took aim, firing point-blank into its thorax. The white phosphorous pellets hissed as they burned into its exoskeleton, forcing it back.
Beside him, Ryan’s shotgun boomed. He struck the Queen’s legs, which seemed to be more fragile than the thick exoskeleton surrounding the head and thorax. The pellets bit into the chitin, likely striking a nerve as evidenced by the leg’s subsequent buckling and collapse. It was a lucky shot – one that he doubted they could repeat four or five more times.
“Sera, use my knife! Here, right here!” Ron called out.
Sera’s sword must’ve been too large to effectively cut through the webbing. They had to hurry up. He and Ryan had been dodging the Queen’s attacks, but mostly by a hair’s breadth. All it took was one lucky hit from the Queen to put them out of commission, possibly for good. “Sera, status on Ron?”
“One minute!” she responded.
Damn. That was one minute later than he’d hoped. Reacting instinctively, Henry noted the Queen raising one of its legs – a sure sign of it preparing for another attack. The Queen struck again, this time cleaving the air with the leg, aiming to corral him into a predictable escape route. As its leg swept through the air, Henry caught sight of the Queen rearing its head back in a grotesque mimicry of a snake about to strike – another acid attack.
Anticipating the monster’s strategy, Henry feinted to the right, a move he hoped would mislead it about his true intentions. As the Queen’s head followed his feint, Henry twisted sharply, scraping against the rough ground. With a powerful push from his legs, he launched backward just as the Queen unleashed its attack.
Acid spewed forth in a wide arc, splattering where he had just been. The corrosive globs almost instantly melted the webbing on the floor, collecting into pools. And there was the second issue. The longer this fight dragged on, the less room they’d have to maneuver.
Henry unloaded into the creature’s compound eyes before tossing a flashbang near its legs. The creature staggered backward, blinded in both its eyes and its sensory hairs. Henry used the precious few seconds he bought to reload his weapon and check up on his team. “Yen, sitrep?”
“Stragglers neutralized; we’re moving to you now.”
Automatic gunfire erupted as Isaac and Dr. Anderson joined the fight against the Queen, dumping their mags on the creature’s head. The 6.8mm seemed to penetrate well, but he could say the same if they fought an elephant; the Spiranid Queen was simply too large for the relatively small caliber rounds to have any effect besides pissing it off.
The Queen lunged again, its legs surrounding him from all sides. There was only one way out, and it was through the belly of the beast. Henry rushed forward, ducking under the Queen’s mandibles as he slid underneath its abdomen. He fired his shotgun as quickly as he could, unloading pellets into the beast’s underbelly. The white phosphorous scorched the softer flesh, drawing a shriek of pain from the massive creature.
As the Queen writhed under the relentless assault, Ryan and the others seized the moment to reload their weapons and reposition. They poured everything they had into the creature’s cephalothorax, bluish ichor oozing from the hundreds of new wounds that they opened up. Yet, it was like chipping away at a mountain – it simply wasn’t enough. The creature thrashed around violently in response; Henry knew it was only a matter of time before it landed a hit on someone.
And land a hit it did. With a terrifying swiftness, one of its massive legs slammed into Henry’s chest, launching him backward. The shield Kelmithus cast on him flickered as it absorbed the brunt of the impact. He crashed into an egg sac by the entrance – its membrane ruptured on impact, drenching him in a sticky, corrosive slime. The sac provided little cushion, and he hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him.
Pain flared across Henry’s chest where the Queen’s leg had struck him. Gasping for breath and battling the encroaching blackness in his vision, he instinctively checked his envirosuit. He started with the areas he could see, glancing down at his chest. It was visibly deformed, dented but not quite a gash.
Still intact, thank goodness. No breach, but another hit like that would be disastrous. He breathed a sigh of relief, his chest hurting like hell as he did so. He checked his sides and back. Parts of his suit were covered in slime from the egg sac. It didn’t seem as corrosive as the Queen’s acid, but it was still a hazard. Quickly, he swiped at it, removing as much as possible with his gloved hands to prevent further damage.
He forced himself up, grabbing his shotgun from the floor. The Queen was already barreling toward him, the damn monster not letting up. He didn’t have time to make a run for it; he needed to jump to one side or the other, and the timing needed to be perfect. Just as the Queen’s shadow engulfed him, the air turned icy cold, frost creeping up on his visor.
Ice formed from thin air, spearing up from the ground and piercing through the Queen’s legs. The spikes rooted the beast in place. Not one to waste an opportunity, Henry dashed away from the entrance, firing at the immobilized giant spider as he linked up with the others.
“Sera?” Henry asked again.
Sera’s voice came in strained. “Almost…” Then, with a triumphant shout, she announced the word Henry had been desperate to hear. “Done!”
“Owens!” Henry said, risking a glance back.
Ron had already grabbed his Gustaf and was in the process of loading another HEAT round. “On it!”
Henry grinned. It was a relief, to be sure. With Ron free and back in the fight, the odds had just tipped heavily in their favor. The Queen was tough, but it wasn’t invincible; they just needed an opening.
Given the damage the Queen sustained to its body, Henry couldn’t imagine it being in peak fighting condition. Even in its weakened state, though, it still had the capability to dodge Ron’s attack, and it seemed to be saving its web ability for that very inevitability.
“Take out the legs!” Henry ordered.
They combined their fire on the left legs, since Ryan managed to break one of them earlier. He heard a crack that might’ve been the chitin giving way or the leg snapping, but it was hard to tell. He was just about to chalk it up to the prevailing gunfire around them, but then he saw it: a brief stumble. The Queen recovered quickly, but it was clear to Henry that it wouldn’t be able to manage any more damage to its legs.
Then, he noticed a blur in his peripheral vision to his right, moving so fast his eyes could barely keep up. Shit, he was certain he kept track of the Queen’s movements. With the existing damage to his envirosuit, he’d be completely fucked. He braced himself for another impact, but it never came.
As he focused harder on the blur, he caught a glimpse of a flash of light that could only be one thing – Sera’s sword, And, just like a flash of lightning, she had already cleared the vicinity of the Queen. The Queen’s foreleg seemed to simply vanish, severed so cleanly that it took a moment for the beast to realize what had happened. When it did, it let out a screech of pain, its balance faltering as it tried to adapt to the sudden change.
While Henry focused on taking out another leg from the left side, Sera had already shifted to her next target. Their assault was brutal: white phosphorus pellets and hard-hitting 6.8mm on one side, ice magic and skilled swordsmanship on the other. And to think, they managed to inflict all this damage by the time Ron completed his reload.
“Clear the way!” Ron called out, his Gustaf aimed right at the Queen’s head.
Henry jumped back, watching as Kelmithus conjured another set of ice spikes to root the beast again, in case the five obliterated legs weren’t enough to keep it down. The Queen thrashed against the icy bonds, its remaining legs slashing through the air in a frenzied bid for freedom. It spat acid – a tactic that would’ve worked effectively on most other materials, but instead simply got diluted with the melting ice. Even as the acid reacted with the ice, the spikes held firm, anchoring the beast in place like steel cables.
Henry’s heart pounded in his ears. Come on, Owens, he urged silently. Take the shot.
As if on cue, Ron pulled the trigger. The Gustaf bucked in his hands as the HEAT round streaked towards its target. Henry barely had time to brace himself before the explosion hit, the shockwave slamming into him and nearly toppling him over. He staggered back, gazing into the settling dust.
When the smoke cleared, the Queen’s head was obliterated – replaced by a gory mess of shattered chitin and pulverized flesh. Blood sprayed from the gaping hole, covering the ground in a pale blue hue. The creature’s body convulsed, its remaining legs scrabbling weakly at their surroundings.
A surge of triumph washed over Henry, but it was fleeting. From the corner of his eye, he locked on to a glimpse of movement. One of the Queen’s legs continued to spasmodically jerk around and spray the ground with blue ichor. He raised his shotgun in a nonchalant motion and blasted the errant limb, watching as it shuddered and went still.
Sera stepped up, her sword barely catching the light as she jammed it into what was left of the Queen’s thorax. A sharp twist, and it was over. She then yanked the blade from the carcass, her grip shifting subtly along the hilt. As she flicked the sword, frost swiftly coated the ichor clinging to the metal. The frozen debris was flung off, hitting the ground and shattering like glass.
He glanced down at his Holding Bag. Damn, the fight took out most of his shells. Swapping out his shotgun for his M7, he turned to his team and took stock of their condition. It seemed everyone had mostly gone unscathed, only debris and dirt scarring their envirosuits. Well, except for himself and Ron. “Think we’re gonna have to start calling you pinata now,” Henry said, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
Ron scoffed. “Yeah? Says the runner-up,” he said, tapping the dent on Henry’s envirosuit. “Better ‘pinata’ than ‘roadkill’, though. But seriously, what’s next? Don’t even know where to start.”
The room was empty, save for the debris strewn about and the singular obelisk standing in the center of the room. He didn’t notice it earlier, but as he got closer, he realized that the obelisk emitted a faint light that barely escaped the canopy of webs. He looked it up and down before turning to the others. “Only one place to start. Let’s clear out the webs, see what’s hiding below.”
“Doc, Kel, clear out the eggs. Hayes, Sera, see if the Queen’s got anything useful. Everyone else focus on the webs,” Henry ordered.
Ron drew his knife and started slicing through the dense cobwebs. “Hey, what y’all think the Queen’s Tier is?”
Isaac paused to consider. “Eh, Tier 8, probably. Minotaur boss and Rillifane boss were both Tier 8, so I’d say the spider’s around the same level.”
“Well, the resilience of the specimen isn’t a definitive measure of the Tier,” Dr. Anderson pointed out. “It’s quite possible that we merely had the most suitable tools at hand in this particular encounter.”
“The scholar speaks truly,” Sera agreed. “There is nary a defining criterion; defense is but one of many that are considered by the Guild. Were it so simple, Kelmithus and I would have attained Tier 9 ere now.”
“So, what do you think the Queen is, then? Tier 7 maybe?” Ron asked.
Henry shook his head. Tier 7 didn’t seem accurate. Using his knife to scrape some of the webbing off his glove, he voiced, “Spiranids are weak in general, but are classified as Tier 5 or higher because of their traps, ambush tactics, numbers, and abilities. Archers can use Wind Snipe and mages can use wide-area spellcasting, but they can’t reliably penetrate the exoskeleton’s armor. If anything, this is probably on the lower end of Tier 9.”
“Tier 9, huh?” Isaac muttered.
Sera smiled as she stood back. She stuffed a frost-covered gland into her holding bag and paused from her work as she chimed in, “Hmm… how keen. I expected nothing less from the first Tier 6 entrants in Eldralore’s history! It shows plain why the Guild did so swiftly raise you.”
“Hah,” Henry chuckled. It was an amusing thought, but… “Say, ya think we can get to Tier 7 after this?”
Sera’s eyebrows shot up. “Tier 7? A mark of no slight merit. What have you achieved since attaining Tier 6?”
Henry reached to scratch his chin, then cursed softly as his glove thudded against his visor. “Well, we took down a Rillifane pack, a Sentinel Lindwyrm, and now this primal Spiranid Queen. That’s not too shabby, eh?”
“Firm victories,” Sera admitted, “but advancement weighs more than battle alone. The Guild also considers quest difficulty, knowledge gained therefrom, and impact – in other words, glory.”
“The Baranthurian Ruins,” Dr. Anderson blurted, taking the words out of Henry’s mouth. He turned to Kelmithus, who approached them after confirming that the eggs had been cleared out. “Surely, working with the Sanctum Arcanum must be quite the honour. The Guild holds their quests with high esteem, wouldn’t you say?”
Kelmithus nodded, burning a clump of disposed webs on the ground. “True as that may be, advancement oft hinges upon the cumulative experience of dozens of quests.”
“Well, ain’t no small feats for us lately,” Ryan remarked. “The quest to the Baranthurian ruins, what was it, Tier 8? Yeah, that was Tier 8. Sentinel Lindwyrm? Hell, Tier Nine. That there beast?” Ryan pointed his gun at the carcass of the Spiranid Queen. “Tier 9 as well.”
Ron interjected, “Plus we’ve been helping out along the way, like those villagers, and taking on quests others won’t touch. Honestly, the Hardale quest should be pretty weighty too, considering the Nobian shenanigans.”
Sera hummed, mulling over Alpha Team’s experiences. The fact that most of their quests at Tier 6 had essentially been Tier 7 quests or higher in difficulty was probably unheard of in the Guild. Not only that, but they’d been able to complete these difficult quests successfully. Hell, with flying colors, even. That had to count for something.
Henry looked over at Sera, stepping back as he allowed Kelmithus to dispose of the webs that he had cleared out. “So, whaddya think? Based on what we’ve done, you think we got a shot at Tier 7?”
Sera looked up at the ceiling as she weighed her response. “Ehh, you’ve a strong case. Alas, it’s Taldren’s call to make. His favor seems yours, though; I wager he’ll agree.”
Henry grinned. Moving up meant they could have access to more quests. Naturally, that also meant better rewards and in turn, access to some truly magical equipment. “Good to hear. Guess we’ll see to it once we get back to Eldralore. Now, we should probably –”
A soft glow of light gradually lit up the room, interrupting Henry mid-sentence. He squinted, readying his weapon. The light came from the walls and ceiling, illuminating the once-dark chamber. The obelisk, now free of webs, now hummed… healthily? It wasn’t like he had a manual to tell him if this was a good or bad development, but judging from the facility’s reaction, it must’ve worked.
Henry glanced at his HUD. The temperature readings were rising, too. The icy chill from Kelmithus’ magic rapidly dissipated as the environmental controls kicked in. “Well, looks like we’ve done all we can here. Let’s head back to the containment cell room and see if we can find anything else of interest.”
– – –
Outskirts of GB-2, Grenden Forest
Carvus Alnect Virelius narrowed his gaze toward the brightening sky, his eyes cutting through the retreating mist that had long veiled the forest’s canopy. This unprecedented clarity above the ruins was strange. After centuries cloaked in an impenetrable fog, why did the skies clear now?
The Umber Vicearch’s mind worked like a whetstone, sharpening the fragments of reports from his scouts, cryptic as they were. The recent skirmish, occurring concurrently with the lifting fog, could not be mere happenstance. Regardless of the answer, the unexpected fold presented a welcome complexity to test his mettle.
He set his thoughts aside as the sound of footsteps approached.
“Leuarch Eldreyn reporting, milord,” one of his men said. “We’ve word from Serarch Trelian.”
Carvus gave him a nod to continue.
Eldreyn relayed the news. “The scouts espy traces of battle: a fallen Sentinel Lindwyrm and two carriages left abandoned near the cave’s entrance. The land bears scars from some form of magic, strewn with strange metal tubes and other objects unknown to us. Save for the Lindwyrm, no other bodies are to be found. What are your commands, milord?”
Carvus took a deep breath. No other bodies? Two carriages? That such a formidable creature was felled with no apparent casualties among their ranks suggested a small but extraordinarily capable force. Each member was no doubt Tier 7 at the least. The limited number of carriages implied a party not larger than ten. But… what could the metal objects mean?
Powerful though they might be, could such a small group withstand his numbers? Carvus entertained the thought briefly. No, direct confrontation would be unwise. The site bore secrets too vital to squander on rash gambles. Better to maneuver them into a position where the only viable option would be to comply with his demands.
“Hold our position, Lornus,” Carvus commanded. While he preferred the safety of their hidden vantage in the forest, the intrigue of Trelian’s findings – the slain Lindwyrm – was too compelling to ignore. “The contents of Trelian’s report compel our own investigation. Lead us, that we might see for ourselves.”
“As you command, milord.”
It was a short walk to the clearing. As they reached the treeline, Carvus held up a hand, signaling his men to halt – they should go no further than the cover of the forest. The aftermath of the battle lay evident before them. The massive form of the Sentinel Lindwyrm sprawled near the far side of the clearing, its outline murky at a distance.
Carvus squinted, adjusting his position slightly for a better view. He felt his jaw drop, a lapse in composure that surprised even him. Yet, who could fault him? The beast lay nearly torn asunder, its massive body riddled with gaping, jagged wounds that no sword or arrow could inflict. Indeed, not even traditional siege weapons or combat spells could inflict such damage.
The destructive capability of fyric powder was well-known to him – he had seen its use in adamantite mines. The wounds on the Lindwyrm, however, spoke of a force of another Tier entirely. Where fyric powder might clear a path through a stubborn boulder, the agent used against the Sentinel Lindwyrm seemed capable of obliterating several boulders at once, perhaps even an entire cliffside.
Turning his attention from the ravaged beast, he scanned the battlefield. Among the chaos, his eyes caught the glint of metal – strange tubes scattered about, all some lighter shade of bronze. The craters were blackened and littered with debris: shards of metal mixed with wires. This was clearly no ordinary skirmish.
He moved closer to the tree line, cautiously examining the unfamiliar objects. The metal tubes bore no resemblance to any weapons known to Nobian forces. However, their presence here implied that somehow, these objects were related to the catastrophic wounds on the Lindwyrm.
Near the cave’s entrance, two metal carriages lay abandoned. Their exteriors were marred by dirt and marked with an array of dents that appeared to be from the Lindwyrm’s armored tail. The carriages, in style and make, aligned with reports of American machines observed by their Umbercari in distant Eldralore. Mounted atop each was a long cylinder. As foreign as they were, he could tell they were weapons – ones capable of unleashing formidable destruction.
Adventurers throughout the ages had ventured here, all repelled by the formidable Lindwyrm that long guarded these grounds. Had it been folly to devote their resources to the conquest of their neighbors, rather than to mastering and exploiting this site? Such questions surpassed his station, yet irrespective of the answers, the Emperor would surely take no pleasure in learning that he had allowed Americans to plunder the Gatebuilder’s secrets.
Carvus turned to Lornus. “Bid our scouts to investigate the cave.” As Leuarch Eldreyn departed to carry out the orders, he beckoned to one of his serarchs. “Bring me one of those metal tubes. I wish to examine it.”
He sat on a rock, watching the light bend around the man’s form until he vanished from sight. The serarch then adjusted the temperature around his body, matching it to that of the forest. Were it not for the subtle shifts in the man’s mana as he held the spells, Carvus would have surely lost track of him.
The serarch made his way forth, passing through the trees and into the clearing beyond. With haste, he seized upon one of the tubes that lay scattered about, and then, as quick as he had come, he turned and made his way back to the forest’s edge. When at last he returned, Carvus stood up and held out his hand.
The tube, lighter than its solidity might have portended, was chill to the touch and was marked by a patina that showed clear signs of bending. He tried to bend it with his fingers, but the metal resisted. Even when he used magic to strengthen himself, it yielded naught but scant impression. What could have possibly moved the metal?
Looking closely, he noticed that the metal wasn’t bronze, as he had first thought. Though bearing a hue akin to bronze, it was of a kind unfamiliar to him. The surface was engraved with American script – characters and sequences that held little meaning to him. Yet, to deem the letters ‘engraved’ would be to err; it was as if they were imprinted with a craftsmanship nary a smith could rival.
He turned it over in his hands, his eyes drawn to a circular groove near the base. Examining both ends, Carvus noted the open end was distorted as if a great force had expelled something from within – an insight into his previous question. The other end was sealed, marked by a small, precise indentation. He held it up, aligning it with a similarly sized hole in a nearby tree.
This was no common weapon. As a trebuchet releases its load, so too must this tube have hurled its own projectile. It gave him an idea. What if one were to use an adamantite tube with fyric powder, place a keen arrowhead atop, and ignite the mixture below? Would it rival a standard Wind Snipe combined with physical enhancement magic?
Carvus’ thoughts were interrupted by someone calling out to him. “Milord.”
“Hm?” He looked up, finding the face of Leuarch Franus. “What is it, Martano?”
He hesitated, as if second-guessing his words. “The… The Lindwyrm… The men grow restless, milord. They wish to claim the spoils of this battle – the Sentinel Lindwyrm’s materials are prized in many a lore. And these carriages, would it not profit us to salvage what we can? They may hold more secrets – or riches.”
He turned the leuarch’s words over in his mind as he would a well-worn coin. In truth, the idea held merit. Even the smallest measure of a Lindwyrm’s blood was a treasure beyond compare – to say nothing of the other materials, sought after by alchemists and smiths alike. That the Americans had forgone harvest was a curious thing indeed. Could it be that they were ignorant of the creature’s true worth? Or perhaps, had they found something more valuable?
And then there were the carriages, gleaming in the sun like ripe fruit waiting to be plucked. If they could but glean some understanding of how the Americans had so deftly slain a beast of the Lindwyrm’s standing, it would surely prove a boon to the Empire’s own martial pursuits. Perhaps, armed with such knowledge, they might at last gain the upper hand against the accursed Sonarans.
Carvus cast his gaze once more upon the clearing, then turned to face Martano. “Aye,” he said. “Let it be so.”
Yet, as he made to step forth, a low, droning sound beckoned his attention – a buzzing hum that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The unfamiliar noise compelled him to halt. He raised his hand, stopping his men as he searched for the noise. He tilted his head skyward, squinting as he beheld a strange sight: a winged thing hanging in the air above the clearing, like an animal circling its prey. As the sunlight reflected off its surface, it became evident to him that this was no creature of flesh, but a machine – much like the metal carriages.
“Hold,” Carvus ordered. “We dare not venture forth.”
Martano stepped forward, doubt and confusion etched across his face. “But, milord, if we shroud ourselves in invisibility, surely they cannot see us.”
Carvus shook his head. “Nay; recall the umbercari we sent to infiltrate the Duke’s mansion. They, too, thought themselves hidden, yet were somehow discovered. We know not what sorcery that flying machine might possess, and we cannot risk exposing ourselves.”
Before Martano could respond or venture any further protest, the scouts returned, led by Serarch Trelian. The search bowed his head before providing his report, “Milord, the cave lies empty, and the Lindwyrm’s nest remains untouched. We discovered footprints leading to a great sealed door, which we believe to be the entrance to the ruins.”
Carvus nodded. The Americans had ventured forth and left the loot behind for a reason. He thought back to a fortress that the Empire once sacrificed to encircle the forces of the now-conquered Kingdom of Durenelle. “So be it. Let us abandon these lesser spoils. As our adversaries have forgone these spoils in pursuit of greater gains, so must we sacrifice Straltus.”
Next

Trigger Warning
I’ve come to Reddit mostly just to answer this question, how should I begin separating myself from my toxic family?
I am 20 years old. I recently came out as a lesbian and quickly after, I found my life partner. I proposed two months ago and she is now my lovely fiancee. She is an absolute beauty with a heart to match. She’s trans and I will always support her. We’ve been living happily together with her and her family.
She and her folks have become the family I’ve always wanted.
As for my biological family…let’s just say, there’s a reason I was quick to move out of there. There had always been signs that my family might be verbally and mentally abusive. On some occasions, they could even be physically abusive. Being in a different environment has revealed that I am in a constantly tense state. When I lived with my family, my mom, my dad, and my fifteen year old sister, I was miserable but also hated myself for being miserable. It was a confusing and dreadful time. My mom is manipulative (You’ll see how later), and my dad has become neglectful, easily enraged, and bitter. My little sister is also manipulative and tends to be favored.
I finally figured it out a few weeks ago when I came to town to take my mom out for coffee. I hadn’t done it in a while because I had been going through a hard time with unemployment. I had gotten my first part time job at the store my mom worked at. Desperate times call for desperate measures. No one was hiring me so it was my only choice. I left because I was being sexually harassed by older customers. I had older men trying to find out where I lived. Some would touch me inappropriately, some would call me names that you would use for your wife. It was a traumatizing time and I was having a panic attack about every day. My stomach would sink every time I stood outside of the workplace, trying to get myself to go in for another shift. One day I had enough and with the help of my fiancee, I was able to quit.
Back to the coffee hangout with my mom. She was aware of everything that had happened. She had never talked to me about it much since she loves her workplace. We finally talked about it and I learned what she actually thought. She said she was disappointed and wished I stayed longer. In shock, I brought up what had happened to me there and she responded with “Did that really happen though? You do have the tendency to over exaggerate.” To say that hurt would be an understatement. Later that same day, she had mentioned that she told her parents about me quieting, even though we agreed that they didn’t need to know. Her dad/my grandfather is a bit of an ass hole who shares his opinion from fox news like it was his to begin with . He is unsupportive of my engagement and he was upset when I was just looking for another job. Anyways, I tried to confront her on this but she had somehow brought my fiancee into it. I told her that my grandparents weren't very supportive and trans phobic. I wasn’t even comfortable with them meeting my partner. My mom responded with “Well your partner needs to learn to control her mouth.” I quickly responded with “So my partner needs to control her mouth but your parents don’t?” My mom quickly dismissed this.
After the terrible coffee date, I cried in the car while on the phone with my partner. I usually found myself like this every time I visited my family. My fiancee of course was furious with how they were treating me.
I started doing a lot of reflecting lately. I realized that whatever image of my family I am clinging onto wasn’t who they were. This is not the first time my mom has said something hurtful without consideration. I grew up with responses to my depression being “pity party for one.” Or “Why are you so ungrateful? I gave you everything.” I’ve heard “I gave birth to you, I own you,” or “I guess I’m just a horrible mother” if you try to bring up her mistakes. I’ve been made to feel crazy for my disorders and for the burden they cause on my family. I’ve been deprived of therapy while my sister had a whole behavioral team. I’ve been screamed at, guilted, hit, smacked, made to keep secrets. I’ve been used, emotionally manipulated, and made to carry loads of responsibility from a young age. My mom, my dad, and my sister each had their own unique way of draining me. My mom is known for guilt trips, my dad is easily driven by anger to the point where I fear him, and my younger sister is toxic/possessive in the way that she constantly tries to threaten me into staying in that house with them by using her life. I know her manipulation techniques and I’m able to divert them.
I am open to any feedback on how I can start the healing processes and slowly remove them from my life.
So how should I begin separating myself from my toxic family?

Warning, lengthy read. Skip at the end for TL,DR.
I know the title is strange and makes you think “why is this guy hung up on a girl he dated for just 3 months?” The thing is, i’ve known this girl for almost 8 years. We were classmates all throughout high school and weve been best friends for 5 years. We broke up just a few hours ago and i’m feeling really shitty rn.
She was perfect in my eyes. She always looked after me all throughout highschool, we had shared interest over nerdy stuff(things like anime, musicals, and songs) so we really got along well. Since then i’ve always saw her as someone i wanted to grow old with, but with some stakes at hand like ruining our friendship and being awkward with our other friends i decided not to tell her my feelings.
We’ve been great friends since and due to the pandemic we grew even closer, once a week we’d chat about what we did and our interests at the time either via by call or by messenger. Of course by spending time with her my feelings grew even more. I cherished all those memories, every single one of them. All those small talks we had, those games we played together. The times we spent are my most treasured thing.
Come senior high school and by luck we we’re classmates. I was really stoked at that time considering all the memories we can create. Unfortunately though we somewhat stayed as friends due to her being unavailable for a relationship/ already talking to someone else, and due to me not wanting to mess our already built friendship over the years.
We graduated and went to college, i stayed in our city while she went to a high class college in another province. We stayed in touch for the most part but I decided that my priority was studying and making new social circles in my department. At the end of the first semester we(along with another close friend of ours) decided to watch the movie barbie. She invited us because she genuinely wanna watch it, i decided to come because it would be funny. By some fate our other friend wasnt available and couldnt come so it was just us two. I dont know why but something rekindled my feelings for her. It was like just spending time with her made all the distance fade. After that she started messaging me daily through tiktoks, we spend countless hours just talking and sharing funny tiktoks we see through our feed.
About three months passed and february rolled around. I was full blown in love with her again and with our hangouts being more common, i decided to confess to her. It was really hard for me to do so, sure I was in a few relationships before but this is the first time im confessing with so much stakes at hand. By my surprise she said yes and my life was turned upside down. I was so happy and ecstatic i couldnt sleep after we we’re together.
The next three months was bliss. It felt good to be genuinely love someone you care for. And it was so amazing to be loved back. I was in cloud-nine for those months. But here’s where it started to go wrong.
We had a small fight about what I said last week. I joked about something and she took it the wrong way. For the first time in our relationship we had a fight that wasn’t resolved in hours. I had really started to doubt the foundation of our relationship so by the time we were able to talk again, my emotions got the better of me and i started talking about our relationship. I know it was stupid and really immature of me to not trust her but what I felt at that time is that I wanted to secure this relationship of ours. Again she misenterpreted it and thought that I was doubting her, that it hurt my pride because she can’t mirror my affection for her.
She said we had to cool off for a while, I of course accepted because I always put her over myself. A week has passed and now she talks to me again, but i know something feels really off, like she’s distancing herself from me, like she’s slowly slipping away from me. Then here comes my second mistake. I asked her what are we? Because im so scared of losing her i asked her if there was a problem and that we could try to fix it.
And then the bombshell happened. She said that we should just break up, she was bothered by some of what I said. I blamed myself for not putting enough effort into the relationship. I think I relied too much on our past that I forgot how to walk with her to the future. I was pathetic at what I did, the way I see it I half-assed everything that we done. At that moment I felt like a helpless child, so young and immature, knew nothing of the world he lives in.
I miss her, i still love her. I’m like an idiot shouting to God, praying she’ll give me another chance, to fix the wrongs that i made. I want to hug her, I want to see her light up again, I want to see that dimple when she smiles. I love her so so much.
But i know things won’t go back to the way it was. I know that she’ll move on in her life, she’ll probably find someone better than me to treat her the way i should’ve treated her then. I regretted ever confessing, regretted ever showing that side of me then, regretted prioritizing her over myself. I hated that I was powerless to change what could’ve been easily prevented.
If you’re reading this somehow, i hope you have a good life, I genuinely hope you succeed in your study. I don’t know how long till I move on from you, hell I probably won’t. But just know that a part of me will still love you forever. My one and only Lovey.
TL,DR: girl i know for almost a decade broke up with me, now I feel empty and shitty
PS: i just wanted to share my story and take it off my chest, im currently trying new things to distract myself and move on

hi! im pretty new to enneagram and so far i think i might be a 9w8. i filled out the questions in the intro. im hoping to get some help or closure on typing myself. im sorry for the long text in advance lol.
• How old are you? What's your gender? Give us a general description of yourself. Im 15 and a girl, ive doubted my gender few times though i dont really "feel" like a girl or anything and i like it when people mistake me for a man, i mostly identify as i girl cause its the easiest for me. im a pretty average student. i used to be "gifted" or something like that but now im just average (im ok with that). i have a few friends and thats pretty much it.
• Is there a medical diagnosis that may impact your mental stability somehow? no i did visit a psychologist a few times. i stopped because it didnt really help me and i saw no point in it.
• Describe your upbringing. Did it have any kind of religious or structured influence? How did you respond to it? My biological father was mostly absent from my early childhood (since i was 3) and doesnt live with me. pretty soon my mom got a boyfriend and they got married so ive had a step dad since i was 3. im not very close to either of my parents. we dont really show affection much to each other and so on. both of my parents are atheist and my grandparents on my moms side are also atheist. my grandma is a jehovas witness and used to bring me to "church" with her when i was little. i was always very curious about it and i used to think a lot about whether or not god was real and if i should convert. i always came to the conclusion thats hes not real and im atheist. i vividly remember that when i was little my grandpa asked me if he should be christian or not and i asked him if he had time to go to church to which he replied no so i came to the conclusion that he should be atheist too.
• If you had to spend an entire weekend by yourself, how would you feel? Would you feel lonely or refreshed? if i could send my friends videos and texts sometimes then yes. i dont really mind being alone and i can take care of myself. i can entertain myself on my own. i wouldnt feel lonely or refreshed really since being alone is sort of the norm for me. i spend most of my free time in my room alone.
• What kinds of activities do you prefer? Do you like, and are you good at sports? Do you enjoy any other outdoor or indoor activities? i like crafty activities like knitting, crochet, sewing and embroidery. i also like reading, learning about stuff im interested in. this can be pretty much anything, music, film, fashion, philosophy, religion and so on. im not really good at sports. i can still enjoy them though if its with friends and its not too serious or competitive. im not a very competitive person and i dont like the pressure people can create in team sports. i enjoy cycling because its more individual and i can go at my own pace, i dont have to rely on anyone and no one has to rely on me.
• How curious are you? Do you have more ideas then you can execute? What are your curiosities about? What are your ideas about - is it environmental or conceptual, and can you please elaborate? im curious but i usually dont ask people many questions, i can satisfy myself with the answer they give. especially if its something personal, if they dont want to answer or are vague theres probably a reason and i dont want to bother them and make them uncomfortable. i have a lot of things i want to do, such as getting better at playing guitar reading and so on. i usually dont really act on this. not for any particular reason i just cant bring myself to do it. im mainly curious about thing like art and fashion history, philosophy and theology, i also find drugs and their side effects and such interesting. i dont really have many ideas. if they are they are usually conceptual such as songs and paintings.
• Would you enjoy taking on a leadership position? Do you think you would be good at it? What would your leadership style be? i dont really like leadership. i cant imagine myself doing it long term, i wouldnt be able to put up with people that long. i dont like when people complain or ask many follow up questions so that would drive me crazy. although if theres a project or something and no one else wants to lead im willing to do it since stuff still needs to get done. if i was a leader my leadership style would probably be pretty permissive, as long as stuff gets done im okay with pretty much anything.
• Are you coordinated? Why do you feel as if you are or are not? Do you enjoy working with your hands in some form? Describe your activity? id like to think in somewhat coordinated. although i can be clumsy at times. i like working with my hands. i play guitar and i like to knit and crochet.
• Are you artistic? If yes, describe your art? If you are not particular artistic but can appreciate art please likewise describe what forums of art you enjoy. Please explain your answer. I like music a lot, i listen to it a lot and it means a lot to me. ive always found comfort in it. when i was younger i really liked melanie martinez and it was basically all i listened to. now i listen to and im open to many different genres. my favourite genre is probably emo and rock though. i also play guitar and enjoy it a lot. sometimes i write lyrics to song too. i used to draw since i was 6 but when i was 13 i stopped because i started comparing myself too much and it didnt make me happy anymore.
• What's your opinion about the past, present, and future? How do you deal with them? i dont really care much about the past. whats done is done and i cant do anything to change it. its a waste of time to dwell on it too much. of course it is good to reflect and think about your actions once in a while. i dont really care much about the future either. well not mine specifically. i dont have a specific plan or goal for myself. im just gonna see what life brings me mostly. although i do think it is important to think about the future as a society in terms of climate change and similar issues. i care the most about the present since its what i have the most direct impact on. as cheesy as it might sound i sort of just "live in the moment".
• How do you act when others request your help to do something (anything)? If you would decide to help them, why would you do so? depends on if i can do it and if i like the person. if its something like giving them a napkin or something else thats simple then sure why not. if its something like explaining i usually say no because im not really good at explaining and i often dont understand things myself. if i would help someone its usually because i dont have a reason not to. i think its better to be nice if tou can even you don't necessarily like the person cause you can avoid unnecessary conflict that way.
• Do you need logical consistency in your life? not really. i dont care for things being logical and i dont think everything needs a reasoning or to be logical.
• How important is efficiency and productivity to you?im not really efficient or productive myself, so i guess not really. of course if something is urgent ill do it as fast as i can. but otherwise i think there are more important things than that. i think the actual of process of doing something can be enjoyable not just what comes out of it.
• Do you control others, even if indirectly? How and why do you do that? i dont if i control others, im not aware of it at least. i dont think i have that big of an influence on someone else.
• What are your hobbies? Why do you like them? I like to play guitar because i like music and the feeling of being to engage with it more deeply. i also like to sing. i like reading because i think there are many interesting stories to tell.
• What is your learning style? What kind of learning environments do you struggle with most? Why do you like/struggle with these learning styles? Do you prefer classes involving memorization, logic, creativity, or your physical senses? my learning style is mainly verbal. i like to write things down and say then out loud. i usually explain things to myself or i pretend im presenting or explaining what im learning to someone else. i sometimes have trouble with things involving a lot of math and sometimes even logical thinking. i often times cant grasp these concepts cause i cant imagine it in my head. i struggle with learning environments that have a lot of distractions. but i cant focus if its completely quiet i like to play some kind of background noise such as white or brown noise. i like classes involving creativity the most since i can just do anything i want. i dont have trouble with coming up with new things and creative things to do.
• How good are you at strategizing? Do you easily break up projects into manageable tasks? Or do you have a tendency to wing projects and improvise as you go? I usually put off things till the last minute so i dont really have time to strategize most of the time. i just do and think of things as i go. usually this works for me and it doesn't stress me out. i do tend to make plans to be "productive" and break up my work into smaller parts this doesnt really work out for me most of the time though.
• What are your aspirations in life, professionally and personally? i dont have many aspirations or goals. just standard things like to get into college and stuff i dont really know what i want to do yet. im leaving it up for myself in the future to decide what i should do that will fulfill me. my main goal is just to be happy with myself and where i am in life, nothing really specific.
• What are your fears? What makes you uncomfortable? What do you hate? Why? my fear is being completely alone for the rest of my life. and not being happy with myself. although i dont really seek out people and their presence i still like affection and fitting in. i really value my friends and i want to have them along my side. i want to accept myself and who i am. i want to be a version of myself that i like. physical touch makes me uncomfortable, and also verbal affection such as compliments too. i often dont know how to respond. when people hug me i often just stand there and if someone touches me i often immediately try to get away. i dont know how to respond to compliments and verbal affection well, partially because i dont really believe it. i hate dishonest people who cant be themselves and try to be someone else to please others. its very sad for me to watch and i just dont like it in general, it can also get annoying.
• What do the "highs" in your life look like? to be honest i dont think ive ever had a "high". most of the time i just feel mostly neutral. the only "high" i have when im laughing with friends or something.
• What do the "lows" in your life look like? i usually lay in bed all day and dont do anything. i cant even bring myself to shower, eat or brush my teeth. if i eat its usually just plain bread or something that requires no effort. i do have some phases where i cry very often, almost every day. i try to hide either usually and cry when im alone but sometimes its too much and i just cry in front of people. when they ask me if im ok i say yes and i try to deny anything being wrong.
• How attached are you to reality? Do you daydream often, or do you pay attention to what's around you? If you do daydream, are you aware of your surroundings while you do so? i daydream very often. almost every day. if im bored and have nothing to do (i dont have my phone) ill daydream. im aware of my surroundings to some extent. usually im also listening to music while doing this. when i daydream i tend to walk around my room in back and forth. even when im reading a book, watching a film or a tv show i often envisipn myself there and stop watching/reading to imagine myself there and insert myself into the story.
• Imagine you are alone in a blank, empty room. There is nothing for you to do and no one to talk to. What do you think about? i would probably sing to myself and daydream. i dont think i would think about many things to be honest.
• How long do you take to make an important decision? And do you change your mind once you've made it? i havent made many important decisions, but i usually take some time to think it through. i might change my mind afterwards but not do anything about since i already decides and dont want to complicate things. i would probably tell myself its meant to be that way.
• How long do you take to process your emotions? How important are emotions in your life? i usually dont really let my emotions out unless its happiness. emotions are quite important to me. i often base my decisions around them. because i want to be comfortable.
• Do you ever catch yourself agreeing with others just to appease them and keep the conversation going? How often? Why? usually if i disagree i just dont say anything. i dont agree or disagree. if i dont agree and dpnt want to talk to that person then ill just try to politely exit the conversation. i dont feel the need to please others with what i have to say. people have different opinions and thats ok. if im talking about something friends and i disagree im not afraid to say it though. i do try to be polite about it though to avoid conflict.
• Do you break rules often? Do you think authority should be challenged, or that they know better? If you do break rules, why? I dont really break rules. i dont feel the need to. at least i dont do it deliberately. i think authorities should be challenged if theyre unfair and oppressive. if i break rules its because ultimately i can do anything i want. i try to be smart about it and not get in trouble though. if breaking the rules would hurt someone i wouldnt do it.

We just returned from a trip to Tamarindo, Costa Rica last week. On our final night (around 12:30am) in the rental house, we discovered a security camera in the corner of the shower, partially hidden behind a tree with a very clear and direct view of the entire shower. For reference, the showers are all partially open to the outside, with the thick vegetation acting as a wall. The bullet style camera had the night vision ring lit up around the lens, which is how we saw it (all previous showers were taken before the sun set, so we never noticed it).
We had an early flight to catch the next day, so we rushed out and notified AirB&B once we got home (Texas). An investigation was started with their security department (photos & details were submitted). When I asked what the investigation would entail, I was told they couldn't reveal those details. A few days later I received a message letting me know that our case has been closed and that we were receiving a 50% refund, with no additional information given. I immediately responded with questions and concerns, including:

• What did the investigation find & how was it conducted?
• Was the camera removed (& by who)?
• What are the consequences for the owner & management team as this is not only against Airb&b's recently updated camera policy, but also against the law? Did Airb&b file a police report or do I need to do that?
• Were the owner's additional neighboring properties searched for cameras?
• Why only a 50% refund and not 100%, given the illegality of the camera and invasion of privacy?

I received the canned response that I expected, which was that it's against their policy to release any information. The only exception is a formal request from law enforcement. The email ended with "We won't be able to offer you additional support on this matter at this time."
I feel sick and traumatized over this and the lack of accountability and answers.
**Legal Advice Requested*\*

• I'd like to personally file a report with the local authorities in Costa Rica, however, is there any other entity I should go through as well (Costa Rica or US)?
• I need to know what happened to the camera and footage (was it stored on an SD card or in a server). Who was responsible for taking it down. My stomach turns just imagining how many guests (kids included) have had their privacy invaded like that and what may have been done with it.

Any legal advice would be greatly appreciated.

Hey all! Had my oil light come on about 2400 miles after last oil change. Checked oil and basically empty (definitely should have been checking more often). Took to Hyundai for an oil change and inspection and they saw a possibile leak from the valve cover. Scheduled a diagnostic appointment and the fee is $155 and I know whatever they charge to fix it will be high.
Is there any reason (recalls, warranties, etc.) that I shouldn't take it to a local shop (licensed)? They have done great work for me in the past, but I have always taken my Sonata to the dealer while under CPO warranty. Now that I'm around 110k miles, I'm not sure anything would be covered and worth the dealership cost.
Appreciate any advice!

Baby gets really fussy at the breast. Spoke with a LC who says that she essentially gets angry waiting for a let down, and she doesn't care to wait for one or keep sucking after one. She recommended nipple shields (works maybe 10% of the time), stimulation to get the let down going, etc. Stimulation to get the let down going is almost foolproof but as soon as the let down ends, she's done.
If I pump in the morning after a feed, I get maybe 3oz. Then I feel empty the rest of the day and trying to get her to feed is miserable.
If I don't pump in the morning I feel fuller for the rest of the day, and then feeds only get miserable around 3-5pm.
Weight gain is... good, but not where it should be. My son (17mo) has always been small, so hard to tell if genetics vs feeding issue or a combination. My train of thought is that if I had a higher supply, I would be "full" more often, and wouldn't have these issues. I'll be going back to work soon (next week) and pumping more often but I don't know how the fuck to manage that either with a baby who won't take a bottle. LC said she might have laryngomalacia because she makes a weird noise with the bottle. She will take about an ounce all at once but once she stops sucking on the bottle, she's done, won't take it back even if she's clearly still hungry.
Any tips to 1) get a baby to take a bottle or 2) triple feed/increase supply when baby won't suck on an "empty" breast or take a bottle greatly appreciated.
I don't really know if my supply is actually low or not, but I wouldn't be surprised if it is since she essentially only feeds through a let down

Hi, I rarely see any success stories and thought I should come back and give you some hope.
I had an injury in December 2023 and took a LOOT of NSAIDs for a month. Right when I stopped taking them, the burning pain came. My stomach was on fire 24/7 no matter what I ate. Doctors in my country aren’t good at H pylori, so they gave me PPIs and let me alone. Lemme tell you I took omeprazole and pantoprazole for over 2 months and they did nothing. Only thing they gave me is SIBO - beware, that is even harder to get rid of.
The burning pain was crazy and I was losing hope. Amoxicilin and clarithromycin - nothing . Doxycycline and metronidazole - nothing. Mastic gum helped the most from any supplements I tried (allicin, cabbage juice, black seed oil and many more I don’t even remember) but once I stopped, the pain was 100% back.
I finally went to a clinic and got propper help and antibiotics - Pylera (mix of bismuth, metronidazole and tetracycline). If you’re from Germany, I highly recommend dr. Harald Plass in Nürnberg.
So I took those antibiotics for 2 weeks and guess what. Nothing. I was depressed and in pain. Very bloated - both from unknown SIBO and H pylori. But a week after finishing those meds, I once woke up and the pain was gone. It came only after eating and left shortly after. Over the next few days it completely went away and I finally got a negative breath result.
Now I’m H pylori free, suffering from SIBO tho. Don’t lose hope. It took 3 round of abx, supplements, and many PPIs (which I now regret and frankly - if they don’t help you either please stop taking them), I’m okay. I’ve been okay for over 4 months.
EDIT: I wanna note I had NO diet during the 3 months I had H Pylori. Not during abx, not after. Yes I ate through the pain - the burning didn’t stop no matter what I ate, so I saw no reason not to eat whatever. I even ate sweets. I also didn’t take any biofilm busters.

[First] - [Prev] - [Next]
—
Memory transcription subject: Herq, Tilfish Junior Exterminator
Date [standardized human time]: December 3rd, 2136
“Understood, on our way.” Frankie stuffed his radio away.
“W-What? More Arxur?” I shivered.
“Don’t think so. Hope not. We gotta go to the van.”
The human didn't give me time to reply as he stepped over the body like it wasn’t even there. Swallowing some bile, I took aimed steps around it. The smell of blood wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It wasn’t any worse than burning flesh.
The stomps of Frankie’s boots down the stairs reminded me to keep moving. I scuttled down the stairs, turning the corner to see another body I was forced to step around. Two of them had come after us, two who were even more eager than the first group we encountered.
“Do you t-think it’s the same ones from before?” I asked.
The human grunted. “Hell if I know. But I wouldn’t doubt it one bit if it was. Guy got his ego hurt, and wanted some revenge. God knows if he was waiting there for an ambush.”
“They… couldn’t have known about the weapons, right?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. He at least knew we were stranded without a vehicle. Maybe put his bets on us getting some transport.”
I didn’t have much time to ponder it. Frankie was already peeking outside the building, shotgun raised. I came up behind him, checking behind as we scooted out of the building. Once he was confident, Frankie dashed towards the van.
We came upon it quickly. I was glad the Arxur he shot was on the other side to spare me from the gore. He turned around to the backside of the van, where his face contorted. “Holy shit.”
“What?” I asked, coming around next to him.
The scaly legs are the first thing I saw. They led up to its back, which looked like it had exploded. Blood was nearly everywhere around the gray, and I even thought I saw a piece of bone. My whole body begged me to run away from the gore, to find a corner to throw up in, but I couldn't look away. And that didn't even cover the Yotul.
The green-stained wraps around his legs were the first thing I noticed after the hulking mass of reptile. His right paw was a bleeding mess haphazardly wrapped in a loose bandage, and his other was curled around an Arxur gun—its gun, I realized. His face had speckles of red on it, much like the rest of the van. There was what could only be described as a huge gun beside him.
Relief washed over his features once he saw us, and he let the weapon clatter onto a bloody crate. “Where’s Luke?”
I watched Frankie for any signs of turning feral, despite the improbability of it ever happening. The copious amount of blood was more than enough to drive any predator into a crazed frenzy, but still Frankie showed enormous restraint. If anything, he almost looked… disgusted by it. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
He took a quick breath to steady himself. “Uh, Dusty took a few rounds, he’s patching her up. I see you can… handle yourself.”
“No,” the Yotul spat back. “It almost…” His voice broke, and he shook his head.
Frankie nodded. “Let’s get moving. I’ll… clear the way, if you could help him, Herq.” The human crouched down and gripped the monster's legs and gave a tug. He started sliding the body out of the way, a trail of blood marking every crate it was slumped over.
I took a step forward, suppressing a gag at the sights and smells. It was like walking into a predator’s den. Dark and damp and terrible, with evidence of what happened drowning my entire field of view. “W-What happened? It looks-”
“I shot the bastard.”
I twitched my antennae. “R-Right.” I took several breaths before finding the strength to proceed. I tried to ignore the blood marked across the walls and creeped in, though I couldn’t ignore the green smears that were on the crates. I did my best to avoid stepping on… anything, really.
The Yotul grabbed a red box full of first aid supplies and set it by his right side. He began to peel off the green-stained gauze on his paw. “I need an extra paw for this.”
“Of course. You’re Reno, right?” He ignored me. I felt a shiver spread through my carapace as he revealed the wound. “T-Those look like-”
“Yeah, I know.”
I gave him a flick of my antennae. He raised a bottle of what I assumed to be antibiotic solution, which I took. I gingerly uncapped the bottle and murmured, “This is going to sting.”
“Do you constantly state the obvious? Just get it over with.”
I took his paw in my feeler and generously poured it over the wound. He let out a small groan, but nothing more. I wiped it, then took some gauze and began wrapping it far better than he could with just a paw and a mouth. I tightened it, and sealed it with some adhesive.
“There. I-I think that’s good, but I don’t commonly work with other species.”
“I can tell.” The Yotul began to get up on their injured legs.
“A-Are you sure you should be walking?” He ignored me again. I stuck out an arm to help him. “Here, at least-”
“I don’t need your help,” he spat, slapping me away with annoyance. He shakily stood up, leaning precariously against the side of the van atop the crates.
I waved my antennae with concern. “I… Let me know if-”
“I won’t,” he coldly said, not giving me so much as a glance back as he hobbled out of the van.
I don’t blame him. The Arxur looked like he was inches away from tearing him apart. Not to mention the claw marks on his wrist… I can’t imagine what happened to him just moments ago.
I crawled out of the van after him, glad to be out, but probably not nearly as glad as him. Frankie came from around the van and dusted his hands.
“That was gross.” He turned to Reno. “You’re up already? Your legs are-”
“Worry about them when we’re in the truck. We need to get the fuck away from here.” He leaned against the van, catching his breath. He was clearly in pain, but didn’t want to show it.
“Gotcha. Luke should be—ah, right there.”
I followed his gaze, spotting the truck rolling towards us with its cracked windows and decorated doors. It stopped right beside the van. A human stepped out, the same one from the predator disease facility. He took one look at Reno, worry spreading across his face. “Holy shit.”
Reno grunted. “That’s what Frankie said.”
“I… We can talk in the truck,” Luke decided.
“Is my gun still in the building?”
“In the backseat.”
The Yotul lowered his head, letting out a breath of relief. I didn’t understand how much a simple firearm could possibly mean to him, but I wasn’t about to question him about it.
Lieutenant Holtas came to the other side of the van, whistling once he saw the crate. “Damn, this is… a lot.”
“Enough to turn the tide, I hope?” Frankie asked.
“There’s a chance it might be… If there’s anything left once we get back. Two of their bunkers are already swarming with Arxur.”
“T-Two?” I stammered. “Which ones?”
The predator shook his head dismissively. “Talk later.”
I shook my antennae in irritation, until another human then emerged from around the truck. It was the dark-skinned, dark-haired human from before as well, Dusty. Her vest had several lesions across it, far more than the few Frankie had received during his gutsiness. She wasn’t unscathed, however, as her left sleeve had been pulled up, revealing a stripe of bandaging. Her eyes regarded me with an expression I couldn't decipher, turning into a more shocked expression when they saw Reno. “...Damn.”
The Lieutenant turned to her. “Keep an eye out from where they came. Reno, do the same for the other side of the street. I’m not looking to get ambushed again.”
The two signaled their understanding. Luke’s gaze lingered a little longer on the wounded Yotul as he hobbled to retrieve his weapon from the truck.
Frankie grunted from behind me, picking up two big and bloodied crates. “Open the doors, would ya?”
I obliged, yanking open the hatches to the truck so the burly human could deposit the weapons. Luke walked past me, saw the mess in the back of the van, and shook his head while muttering something. Still, he crouched and grabbed two crates in each hand.
I couldn’t very well just stand around, so I begrudgingly walked over and picked the cleanest crates I could manage while repelling the numerous dry heaves my body wanted to conjure. I hefted them up, and followed the same path as Luke and Frankie.
I passed Dusty, who groaned, rubbing her left arm. “Why do these idiots use such a small caliber? You’d think they’d want to kill the people they’re shooting at.”
I nervously tilted my antennae. “You would… hope so.”
“They enjoy the thrill of the hunt,” Reno growled. “Use it to just incapacitate their prey. Dead ones don’t squirm while they’re eaten.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the street. As we continued to load the human armaments into the truck, the two kept a cautious set of eyes out on either side of the street. Frankie managed to fit the big gun back into its respective crate while Luke stared at it, incredulously. Dusty glanced back with a similar look, which gave me the feeling the predators were all thinking the same thing. The only one who didn’t break his focus was Reno.
The van got emptier, the truck got fuller, and soon enough we were ready to leave this place for good. Luke gave us the clear and got into the driver seat. Frankie took the front passenger seat, leaving the three of us to squeeze into the back. The windshield left a lot to be desired, and I wondered if Luke would even be able to see through it.
It was cramped, to say the least. I was forced into the side, with the Yotul in the middle, while Dusty filled in the remaining seat. From someone looking in from outside, it would be a very strange sight to behold.
She slammed the door shut. “Tight fuckin’ fit. Hope we have enough fuel.”
“Won’t be an issue,” Luke said, sending the engine revving as we began to accelerate.
Thank Formi we’re finally leaving. How long have I been awake for? How long have the Arxur been in Tepisil? And how are the exterminators from the human camp doing? There’s far too much to worry about.
I hoped Tealk was fine in the hatchery’s bunker. That is, if it wasn’t already compromised. Tepisil was given the tiny mercy of just a small warning prior to any bombs dropping. The shelters were likely packed to the brim. Just waiting for the Arxur to come.
“Frankie, give me some light, would ya?” Dusty ordered. She had pulled Reno’s hindlegs on her lap, and was now inspecting them with the help of Frankie’s flashlight. I could see the green blood that had leaked down his legs from the wounds, along with pieces of black debris.
Reno had no choice but to let Dusty tend to him. I tried my best to ignore the blood she was forcing out by ripping through the bandages, though I gagged upon seeing her dig into his flesh with a pair of tweezers, pulling out a small bullet while he hissed in pain. Those were the only noises for a time while the human used a strange syringe to push some sort of foam into the wound, then tightly wrapping his legs.
She did a better job than I ever could’ve. At this point, it shouldn’t have impressed me that the predators had a concept of medicine or even treatment for the wounded, rather than just leaving the weak for dead. The amount of care she put into someone from another species spoke volumes to the humans’ empathetic capacity.
The streetlights of the city finally receded from us. I could almost feel the weighty air in the truck lighten, like a part of the despair had been left behind in Dirlsil. It wouldn’t last for long.
At some point in the middle of all the crop fields, Frankie cleared his throat. “Can I be the one to break the silence? ‘Cause Reno shot that gray with a whole bloody anti-materiel rifle.”
“God, I’m glad somebody finally fucking said it. Point blank, too,” Dusty said.
The Yotul didn’t offer a response, only stared off into the distance. I felt nothing but sympathy for him. They meant well, but I suspected they did more harm than good. The humans clearly had no idea what he’d just gone through; the fear, the uncertainty, the possibility of being eaten alive. I had a feeling the only reason he was alive was because of his quick thinking, the Arxur’s cockiness, and luck.
Luke cleared his throat. “Uh, how did you fare, Frankie? I saw the marks on your vest.”
My human grunted. “Barely even felt them hit me. Once the shooting started we dove back into the toy shop. Arxur are damn cocky bastards, but I don’t reckon they’re used to whatever they’re chasing fighting back so hard. Shot one, ran up the stairs, shot the other. Easy as that.”
It was not, in fact, as easy as that. I was terrified the entire time. It was Frankie who did everything, and even then, he screamed and shouted during the entire encounter. He was fearless in the face of fear while I had been useless. Again. My only saving grace was that I didn’t freeze like I did at the PD facility, even if that meant I merely ran instead. I felt a stab of anger mixed with regret, an entirely unwelcome feeling that I decidedly earned.
I can’t rely on the Terrans forever. At some point, my uncontrollable fear is going to cost lives. I… I can’t let fear be the driver.
“We had four of the fuckers on us,” Dusty said. “Retreated into the store opposite yours. We were doing just fine ‘till one of them tossed a grenade.”
I felt Reno tense up to me. He had a thousand-lightyear stare.
“Then they came in after us, separated us from Reno. They were fucking relentless, didn’t give us a chance to fight. Forced us all the way back into the stockroom, then kept pushing their luck. Finally had a corner, then the bastards leapt forward rather than being smart, getting me tagged. Hurts like hell just thinking about flexing the muscle.”
“God, can we change the subject? I regret asking,” Lieutenant Holtas said, shifting uncomfortably. “Frankie, you want to try again with the UN? And Herq, now that you’re with us, can you contact Von and inform him of what happened?”
I almost flinched when he said my name. “Y-Yeah, of course.” I started to pull out my holopad. I hovered over Tealk’s contact before moving to Von’s. I tapped the icon, and it rang for only a second before he picked up.
“Herq?”
I pulled the pad closer, overhearing Frankie start his own call to the UN. “Yes, it’s me. We made it out of Dirlsil with the weapons, and we’re in one piece.”
“Formi is that good to hear. I won't sugarcoat it, things have gotten much worse. You may have heard it from the humans, but cattle shuttles just landed around Bunker Four… which has no one to defend it. Bunker Six had contact and they are at a stalemate, but won't stay that way. I… sincerely hope you brought lots of ammo.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I can’t say for certain what the predators brought with us… We’re driving as fast as we can, we expect to be there in forty minutes.”
“Too long… The grays are already going into buildings, trying to flush them out. We don’t have the firepower.”
“I… We need a rally point in order to distribute them as fast as possible.”
“One advantage is that they aren’t using their numbers prowling the empty buildings on the outskirts… Shit, Polle is calling me… It’s about Bunker Six. Listen, I’ll send you more information when I can. Call me ten minutes before you reach the city.”
“Yes, of course. Please, stay safe.”
“We both know that isn’t going to happen. Hurry.”
A tone signified he hung up the call. I tentatively swirled my antennae, seeing my company look away. “I-I’m guessing everyone heard that?”
Reno flicked his ears, and the humans nodded from the front seats. A steady silence came over us. It was probably well into the early hours of the morning at this point. My body was tired, and my mind more so. I knew well that I should have been more scared or worried, but I simply didn’t have the energy. It was like Frankie said earlier.
“Who wants a granola bar?” Frankie abruptly barked.
Luke shrugged. “I mean…”
The two humans accepted his offer, not like they had much choice since they were already being distributed. A bar was put into Reno’s paws, and suddenly, I was holding one too.
“It… doesn’t have meat, does it?” I asked.
“No, you idiot. I don’t eat meat,” Reno hissed, unwrapping his food.
“Sorry… I just wanted-”
“It’s just a bar of sugary grain. You’d think you would know by now that humans aren’t going to hurt you, or do anything else ‘predatory.’” He said the last word with distaste, like it personally offended him. He was clearly more used to the primates than I was, or ever could be. I knew they wouldn’t mean me any harm, but it was hard to shake off the thoughts that always lingered in my mind when around predators.
I thought his behavior was simply fried nerves from his close call with the Arxur, but there was something more to it, something bitter in his tone that hinted at more than just the last encounter. It reminded me of hearing about his outburst at my sister, Tealk, back at the hatchery. It didn’t sit right with me, but I wasn’t in any position to ask him about it, especially not at that moment.
Dusty was already stuffing the bar into her mouth, not much caring for how revolting I found it. I’d gotten used to their toothy smiles, but seeing her take a bite, just like she would chow down on a piece of bloody meat… If I wasn’t so hungry after so many hours, I would’ve lost my appetite.
Reno bit into the bar, and I carefully unwrapped mine, ignoring the female’s sickening mouth movements. I gave a cautionary sniff before taking a small nibble. It was acceptable, even good considering I hadn’t eaten for so long. I took another bite, then another, and then I noticed Dusty looking at me.
I couldn’t help the way my muscles tensed in agitation. She was instinctively sizing me up, now that food was on her mind. “W-What is it?” I stuttered.
She raised her eyebrows, glancing away. “Nothing. Just the way you move your hands, er… tarsals? Tarsals, across your mandibles when you eat. It’s… nevermind.”
My… tarsals? I flexed a feeler, inspecting it like something was wrong with it. I looked back at the predator, who was now looking out the window. At least she wasn’t… staring at me anymore. Humans got stranger every moment I spent with them. I thought there was a glimmer of hope that they wouldn’t all be as strange as Frankie, but that clearly had yet to be proven.
I took another small bite. Before I knew it, I had eaten the whole thing and had nothing left to occupy the time. There were only dark crop fields outside our truck, and predators or the predator-diseased inside. Nothing to distract me from the knowledge that Sillis was going to fall. Nothing to distract me from the thoughts telling me to give up, to run away, like a coward.
A muted atmosphere of haunting tranquility came over our vehicle, one that everyone silently and willfully acknowledged. We all knew what we were driving towards.
—
[First] - [Prev] - [Next]
Thanks to u/WCR_706 for proofreading. And, of course, thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the wonderful universe.

for context- I'm a pet groomer and work commission, not hourly. The status quo for groomers is that you can take as much or as little of a lunch break as you want, hell, even two hours. Just as long as you don't run behind and you're in between appointments. You come in at your first appointment of the day and leave after your last one, there's no set schedule.
When I first started 10 years ago I was young and naive and saw that my boss never took a lunch break and just snacked throughout the day and I followed suit. We were 'allowed' to, but it was frowned upon at that specific salon.Yes I know that's fucked up work culture. But then it just became a habit and to this day I just don't wanna take one. My thought process has always been "I could either sit here for an hour and scroll on on my phone while eating, or I can snack while grooming & go home an hour early."
For added context which I think is relevant, i also like to get EVERYTHING I need to do at home done right away before I sit down and chill. Nothings better than being showered, comfy clothes on, and not have to get up to empty the dishwasher or take out the trash.
So all of that being said, the concept that people like going home during their one hour lunch insane. Taking a one hour lunch is foreign enough for me, but CHOOSING to go home?? The amount of torture and sheer will power id have to exude to get back off the couch and GO BACK to work seems like self induced torture. Obviously there's exceptions like if you have a dog that needs to be walked. But in general, it's just crazy to me. Like, you're teasing yourself by going home! There's no way that after a full stomach there's not that devil on your shoulder saying you should just call off for the afternoon. That itself is hell enough.
Even if i lived five mins away, id just pack a lunch and go to a park/sit in my car.

Quick overview

• It took me 7+ years to figure it out, but Gluten was causing a bunch of weird symptoms for me.
• The symptoms that were the strongest always happened at the same time; brain fog, feeling like I was sick (a casual cold), and low mood.
• Gluten is usually known for causing issues in the gut (stomach issues etc), so I never considered Gluten being the potential issue
• I tried so many things for so many years, but after removing Gluten it went away for good
• This won't work for everyone of course, I definitely have a Gluten intolerance, but I thought I'd put this in the Brain Fog subreddit, since hopefully it can help one person (rather than the Gluten Intolerance subreddit).
• If I eat too much Gluten (lets say more than a few slices of bread in a week), then I'll notice all the symptoms above turn on, but it's never right away, it's always 24-72hrs after, and thats what made this so hard to figure out.

Story/Symptoms

• For years I was feeling the symptoms I mentioned above, at first I thought I kept catching colds, but then realized it had to be something else
• The catch: it came in waves… the symptoms came in strong for 7-10 days every couple months "randomly", which really made it hard to figure out the cause
• I had no idea what it was… I kept thinking I was getting sick often, or it was my immune system, vitamin/mineral deficiency, or maybe I was having a severe allergic reaction
• Doctors of course didn't have any good answers
• I had 2 naturopaths say it was stress (fair point, I have a demanding job), but the brain fog and fatigue was so strong, I couldn't ever focus or think normally during these symptomatic times, so it just didn't correlate to only being stress.

You should do an Elimination Diet!

• It's not easy, but it's very worthwhile
• After looking into this stuff for 5+ years, I’ve learned it’s more likely something you need to eliminate rather than take.
• Remove the most common foods that trigger brain fog, low mood etc and after 2 months see how you feel. If you feel better than you know you found the issue, then just slowly introduce foods back over the next 12 months and you'll figure out the main culprit over time.
• Things I would eliminate right away: Gluten / All fast food / All processed food / Processed sugar ... just follow the PALEO diet to keep it simple.

For me specifically, Gluten was the issue

• Gluten intolerance (not allergic, not celiac). Most people would just say you're crazy, or that's not real etc, but don't listen to them. Being intolerant to certain food is very real and trigger a wide range of symptoms.
• I got only mental symptoms/issues from Gluten, which is uncommon, and hard to find many people talking about it.
• After eating 0 amounts of Gluten for a few months, I spent a week eating a lot of it and got the symptoms pretty quickly, so that helped verify I finally found my issue.

Gluten is a product that makes bread fluffy, rise well, and just taste great in general. Most common foods with gluten are: Bread / Pasta / Noodles / Crackers / Baked goods / Cereal etc
If you're fed up with feeling weird, brain fog, and other symptoms, do an elimination diet of common problematic foods, go strong for 2 months and I think many people will find it helps start the process of finding potential culprits.

My next doc appointment is in one week and I'm trying to keep myself from not stressing too much so I'd like to address some of the things in the title so here goes, if you have anything to add please help a poor soul out, I'm not used to being this freaked out. The pain is currently still manageable as it's rather mild but the feeling of my stomach being empty nonstop and the fatigue are getting to me.

• First off, working out: can you workout while having H Pylori? I'm aware exercise helps with digestion and increases acidity. I doubt I'll be able to do my usual high intensity cardio and weighlifting but can I still do slow jogs and lighter lifting? I'm thinking something like, eat , then exercises 1 hour later, maybe grab a banana 15-20 mins before workout and drink water throughout the session. I haven't worked out since almost 2 months ago when I found out I had this, just long walks.
  
• Second: dark green poop. I was diagnosed, got some treatment for 2 weeks, poop went from dark green to yellow and now back to very dark with a green hue. I know this is normal if you have H Pylori but when should I start to worry? I also read that green might mean livegallbladder issue. Fingers crossed no blood in stool. Also this morning when I blew my nose there was a booger with a bit of blood in it, now this may be paranoia, but my sinuses are usually stuffed and this hasn't happened in a while, hope it's not a bad sign.
  
• Cabbage juice and biofilm: I started cabbage juice 4 days ago (love the taste tbh), twice per day, I've read some threads on this sub that say I'd need to destroy (?) the biofilm first using gingeACV or something else so that the sulforaphane in cabbage could destroy the bacteria, plus it would take at least 2-3 weeks to feel any effects. Is that right?
  
• Can you eat eggs? I've seen split opinions, some saying it's a trigger and that they're acidic.
  
• On the acidity topic, I've read it's good to take one tablespoon of ACV (with the mother) before meals, opinions on this please?
  

I don't know what my doc will prescribe me but I hope it won't destroy (what's left lol) of my gut flora. I'll also be getting an abdominal ultrasound. Anything else I should ask for? I'm thinking if testing resistance to antibiotics would be a good idea. I want to ask him about bismuth, I have a friend who got rid of H Pylori in 10 days taking some bismuth based pills.
Should I keep on taking probiotics until my appointment ? I was considering buying some mastic gum too while I'm at it.
Any advice on how to lower stomach acidity is also welcome.

• Species: Dog
• Age: 1.5yrs
• Sex/Neuter status: Male/Neutered
• Breed: Pomsky
• Body weight: 18-20lbs
• History: Drama queen (according to vet because of his cone paralysis :P)
• Clinical signs: Staggered breathing (or breathing in stages?)
• Duration: 1 day
• Your general location: Alberta, Canada
• Name: Watson

Hello there,
There is some backstory to this that I couldn't figure out how to include in the title, please bear with me:
About 4 days ago we realized Watson was breathing very rapidly at rest. We live in a very cold place, it had just started warming up, and his coat is the longest it's ever been, so we assumed that he was just too hot (23-26 Celsius in some rooms of the house) and booked an appointment with the groomer to get him a trim.
He was still eating and drinking normally, urinating normally, gums were pink, I think he might have been having less bowel movements but I'm unsure because we brought him over to my girlfriend's parents for the better part of the two days after noticing this (and he roams their large backyard with their two dogs), so he might have had many or 0 bowel movements over there, I also felt his stomach and it felt normal. His behavior this whole time was mostly normal (maybe a little bit subdued, but I assumed it was because he was tired from hanging out with his uncles so much). For the sake of the timeline, this is all that happened the first 2 of 4 days (day 4 being today).
Yesterday around 5am he woke us up because he was trying to throw up. He heaved a few times, and nothing ended up coming up other than white foam. He seemed to recover quickly from this, and we went back to bed. I told my girlfriend that if he was still exhibiting any weird symptoms in the morning I would take him to the vet.
Woke up later that morning, and he seemed back to normal. His breathing had slowed down to a normal rate, he ate his breakfast, I took him on a walk in the morning and he was behaving totally normal. He also passed a "good" stool (firm, solid normal color) on our walk. We got home and I went to pick up old his stools from our yard (routine after a walk) when I noticed an unusual one (that had to have been within the last 24h, exactly when I'm not sure as we let him out often while we are getting ready for work/bed/otherwise unable to watch him).
The stool I found had a bunch of tape coiled up inside of it, which I remembered had been a loose strand of tape that was sitting on my desk that he must have pulled off and eaten (uncoiled, the kind of tape where you have to peel the bottom off to expose the sticky side). We hadn't had an issue with him eating things that aren't food in a long time so I let my guard down.
It all started making sense, I thought that he must have been in pain/discomfort from eating the tape which explained the heavy breathing for the couple of days until he passed it in his stool. Since he was mostly back to normal I thought nothing of it.
Starting last night and continuing to this morning I noticed that his breathing, although much slower and normal rate-wise, has changed to be a much deeper, staggered breathing. I don't know how to describe this other than staggered, maybe staged? He will inhale about 60% of the breath initially, then 30% more, then the last 10%. His mouth is closed while he's doing this (sleeping/resting the times that I have noticed it). Google has been woefully unhelpful in looking this up (probably because I have no idea what the kind of breathing is actually called)).
At this point I'm concerned that there is still some tape stuck in his guts somewhere. The piece that he ate was quite long, and I didn't extract/unravel it from inside his stool to see how much of it had come out there, but nor could I find any remnants of un-eaten tape anywhere. Is this kind of seemingly labored breathing characteristic of a blockage, and should I be concerned?
I'm hesitant to go to the vet right away because
A. I've taken Watson there probably 10 times for minor issues, every time I have they do the exact same checks that I mentioned above (feel his stomach, check gums, behaviour, eating and bowel regularity) and then send us off almost with an air of like "you guys need to relax he will be fine"
B. With the above in mind, it isn't exactly cheap
Reasons I think he does not have a blockage: -His most recent stool was a good one -His eating habits are the same -His behavior is normal
Reasons I think he might still have a blockage: -His breathing?? Not sure if this is indicative of anything because as I mentioned, google no help this -The timeline of his dry-heaving in the morning doesn't add up for me. I don't know for sure, but I'm pretty positive that the stool with the tape in it happened the night before the dry-heaving, so why would he dry-heave if the blockage had already been excreted. He has not tried to throw up, or anything similar since. -He has always coughed more than your average dog (he loves eating quickly and then chasing that down with big gulps of water), but he has been coughing a bit "deeper" this last day or so? This could be me worrying, but thought I would mention
Looking for advice on what to do, and if these symptoms are indicative of anything or if I'm just being my normal hypochondriac self :/
Thank you for your time.

Back story, I had recently moved into a co-op house with my man ( who had been living in said co-op for about 10 yrs). An opening came about and we moved in , there is this stop sign at a 3 way in the intersection with a house on the 4th side. Because this is a private community the roads are empty all the time so no one does a full stop at the stop sign . This Karen was living at said house. Also need to add there are speed bumps like every so many feet so you can't really go more than 20-30 km while driving. So I'm coming home from work one day and as I enter the co-op I see 2 kids riding their bikes. They are well behaved and see a car coming. The older boy tells his younger sister to come to the side of the road until I go by ( the opposite side than what I'm driving on, which is the top of a small hill from the stop sign. The little girl is standing on the grass off her bike and the boy is at the curb with one foot on the grass waiting for me to pass. I proceed past them to the stop sign , do a rolling stop as there is no one on the road and proceed to my driveway a few houses down. This Karen flies off her porch and runs up to my vehicle , I get out and ask if she needs something, as I'm very confused why she ran up to me. She then takes a picture of my license and proceeds to yell that she wants to know where I'm going and why I think it's okay to run kids off the road ( she is drunk and where her porch is there is no sight line to where her kids were when I past them) I told her I didn't hit her kids and that they were at the side of the road and she proceeds to scream at the top of her lungs that I'm a child killer and trying to run everyone's kids off the road and yelling my license plate over and over. I tell she's a crazy bitch and needs to go back home. She doesn't obviously so after screaming back and forth with her for a couple minutes I go inside and tell my man about it. He comes out and she for some reason doesn't realize he came out of the same house as me and starts acting all sweet and telling him she's so scared for the children and that she saw me try and run her kids off the road and she's never seen me in here before ( I should mention I love kids and have been very nice to all them in this neighborhood and I had been living here for months) at this point my bitch side really comes out and I go off on her cause now all my neighbors are out and she's telling everyone to watch their kids around me , her husband has to come drag her back to her house, the whole time she's screaming my license plate and calling me a child killer....The incident ended up costing all the kids my nicities. As I would give lots of candy for Halloween and let them play with my hedgehogs and just me being friendly to them in general because she must have continued to bad mouthing me to her kids who went and badmouthed me to their friends and they all started calling me a child killer. I go on to email the manager of the co-op in case anything further came of it, to find out I'm not the first person she's done that too for not making a full stop at the stop sign and that she had been warned already numerous times...needless to say she got kicked out of the co-op. Also I want to add that co-op houses are about half the cost to rent and since 2020 their is a huge wait list to get into any co-op in my town or surrounding towns. 3bedrooms are about 1200 Inclusive compared to 3000 plus utilities anywhere else. My street has been much quieter since.

R-squared values: Linear Regression: 0.8401621913740709 Polynomial Regression: 0.9161966003792115 Exponential Regression: 0.922505755755209 Projected next outcome using damped Exponential Regression: 15916.26589649187 

Darshane Punyam, Sparshane Paapam 

Part 14.3

Heracles VS Lernaean Hydra

Author Note: I was thinking about it and I really wish that GT9 used more draconic symbolism throughout the story when (or if) I revisit Team Crowley VS Rosencreutz I'll have symbolism of Aleister (TheBeast666), Aiwass (Codename: DRAGON) and Coronzon (The Dragon of the Abyss) all have symbology of them being Dragons preying on a God/Hero like CRC and the reversed conflict of Chaos VS Order you see in mythology, I also wanted to achieve something similar with Kakine Teitoku as he can represent the Fallen Angel and the Seraphim but for now I'll try adding draconian symbolism into Gunha VS CRC.
True Expert Christian Rosencreutz, with his golden rosy cross sword, clashed relentlessly against the indomitable force of the Strongest Gemstone, Sogiita Gunha. With each clash of their powers, the air crackled and compressed, and the pavement trembled beneath.
CRC, observed Sogiita with a mixture of intrigue and disdain. "You fight like the legendary Heracles," he remarked, his voice carrying over the din of battle. "But know this, I am the Lernaean Hydra, and no matter how many heads you sever, I shall always rise again!" Rosencreutz roared to slice the #7’s midsection.
Sogiita, his entire body wreathed in unknowable energy, met CRC's blade unyielding. "Bring it on, old man!" he retorted, his voice brimming with confidence. "I'll knock you down as many times as it takes! I won't stop till you come to your senses and remember your roots, like the roses you love so much, Rosencreutz!!"
Their clash intensified, that old man’s higher dimensional sword colliding with the raw power of that boy’s fists and kicks as they pushed each other to their limits with each sword swing, punch, kick and flash.
Sogiita unleashed a barrage of punches, each strike carrying the force of a meteor, while that silver young man countered: he wielded his sword in his right hand and released impacts followed by white light that was enough to previously take down all of The Bridge Builders Cabal.
As the battle raged on, the very fabric of reality seemed to warp and shift around them, bearing witness to the titanic struggle between two unparalleled forces.
The founder of Rosicrucianism who intimidated reality itself to obey his will and that Gemstone with an unstable personal reality that could change on a whim.
The atmosphere crackled with electrifying distortion.
Sogiita's fists tore through the air with the ferocity of meteors, their velocity enhanced by his ability to adapt and accelerate, surpassing even CRC's speed. As each blow was released, the friction with the surrounding air molecules ignited a scorching heat, intensifying the impact.
The rapid movement of molecules generated an escalating thermal energy, causing the air to seethe with increasing temperature. It was akin to a tempest of incandescent projectiles hurtling towards CRC, their speed surpassing the limits of human perception.
It was like a storm of brilliant fiery arrows was fired at Rosencreutz.
These blazing arrows of force were reminiscent of the elusive strikes employed by the Rose & Cross Leader, ignoring distance with deceptive agility.
With each thunderous punch, that bandana boy sought to overpower his adversary through sheer kinetic force, his unwavering resolve palpable in every motion.
But that wasn't enough for this superhuman.
CRC, wielding his cross sword with precision and skill, deflected each and every one Sogiita's flaming arrows with calculated strikes of his own. Each impact unleashed a burst of blinding white light, sending shockwaves rippling through the chaotic city.
"You think brute strength alone will defeat me?" the silver man taunted, his voice cutting through the chaos of battle. "You may be strong, but strength without strategy is nothing but raw power wasted."
Sogiita grinned, his confidence unshaken. "Strategies for cowards who can't handle a real fight," he retorted, his voice ringing with defiance. "I'll K.O. you with my fists and guts alone!!!!"
Rosencreutz's eyes narrowed as he parried another of Sogiita's punches. "Your arrogance will be your downfall," he warned, his tone tinged with certainty. "I may not match your overall speed, but I have something you lack: intellect and precision.”
Christian Rosencreutz then plunged his cross sword into the ground.
"This is what harmed Kamijou Touma," he declared, grinning and unleashing a torrent of lethal invisible attacks from his outstretched palms.
However, the #7 countered with a relentless barrage of flaming arrows from the thermal aftershock of his punches.
Each strike akin to a particle accelerator in its intensity and speed. That Gemstone was the particles being fired on the right and that True Expert was the particles fired on the left.
As the attacks clashed, the battlefield became a spectacle of raw power and precision.
“Roar!” CRC held his open palm to his mouth and blew gently on the tip of the middle finger.
That was all it took for a blaze easily outdoing a flamethrower to rush out. And this was not just any fire. It fed on the power of a ley line and stole vitality from space itself. This overwhelming mass of light and heat was wielded for no other purpose than to take lives. Anyone who tried to survive it using simple composite armor or special fibers would dry up and burn away in less than a second.
But that wouldn't kill another superhuman would it?
Of course not.
“Aaaaarghhhh!!!!” screamed the #7.
Some assaults bypassed the fray entirely, slipping through the chaos like elusive particles in a collider.
A smokescreen.
Those brilliant fireworks from hell weren't meant to take Sogiita’s life. They were meant to disrupt the Gemstone's senses and sight so he couldn't counter all of that old man’s deadly attacks.
Invisible strikes found their mark on that Gemstone, and the searing arrows of the arrows scorched Rosencreutz.
CRC was wounded but he rejected to make any whimpers. Instead with a sudden burst of velocity, the young silver man picked up his cross sword from the ground and launched a flurry of strikes, cutting at the #7’s body with pinpoint accuracy.
His arms, his head, his face, his stomach, his legs, his midsection, his back.
Each blow landed with devastating force, causing Sogiita to stagger back under the onslaught.
If that bandana boy hadn't had his defenses and general stats raised by the #5 he’d be cut to pieces.
The #7 fell on his back.
"There's a fire," Sogiita declared, his voice ringing out amidst the chaos of battle.
With each attempt to break his spirit, Sogiita's resolve only grew stronger, fueling the flames of his determination. "Every time someone tries to make me give up, it's like wind feeding my flames, making them burn even brighter just like my punches," he explained, his words carrying the weight of his unwavering determination.
He refused to stay down.
With a roar of defiance, Sogiita surged forward once more, his movements blurring with speed as he disappeared from view. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind Christian Rosencreutz, catching the magician off guard.
"Hey, old man," Sogiita taunted, his voice filled with confidence as he seized Rosencreutz from behind.
Christian Rosencreutz's eyes widened in surprise as he realized he had been outmaneuvered.
As Sogiita Gunha faced off against Christian Rosencreutz in their airborne duel, he felt the flames of determination burning within him, driving him forward with unstoppable force.
Before he could react, the boy lifted him effortlessly and slammed him onto the pavement below with a resounding thud.
"I'm not just a kick-boxer!!" Sogiita sang.
As the impact reverberated through the air, the young silver man let out a pained cry. The force of the collision compressed the surrounding air, heating it up until it crackled with energy. Christian Rosencreutz's head struck the ground with a velocity equivalent to mach 20, igniting his body in flames upon impact.
This move is called a suplex.
Struggling to regain his bearings, Rosencreutz muttered in a daze, "The House of the Holy Spirit...the seven walls..."
"You said it yourself, didn't you?" the gutsy boy retorted, cocky. "My power and my guts can break through your impenetrable walls. And I can spread those same guts to the world around me."
With a grimace, Christian Rosencreutz acknowledged the truth of the boy's words. "Your uncontrolled AIM field grants you the ability to imbue non-organic objects with the properties of your virus," he observed, his voice tinged with begrudging admiration. "Allowing them to bypass even the defenses of the seven-walled tomb.”
"A virus? Don't be so gutless, CRC," the #7 retorted, his voice filled with defiance. "This battleground ruled by wills is a two-way road between you and me."
Christian Rosencreutz raised an eyebrow at the boy's words. "Hey Gemstone, you could've killed me if I weren't a superhuman with an idealized body that accomplished The Great Work and crossed the Ungrund, what then short-stack?" he questioned while fitting an insult against his height.
Even without the seven-walled tomb or sheets of diamonds Rosencreutz was cartoonishly durable.
"Sorry, old man," Sogiita replied, his tone tinged with annoyance. "I might've gotten carried away, but I know it'll take more than that to kill you. No matter how many heads you regrow, like Hydra, I will not give up until I've completed all my labors."
"Mhm, so you do know your mythology," CRC remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "The Lernaean Hydra, or simply Hydra, is a serpentine lake monster in Greek and Roman mythology. Its lair was the lake of Lerna in the Argolid, known as an entrance to the Underworld. In the canonical myth, the monster is slain by Heracles as part of his Twelve Labors."
"Yeah, I know," Sogiita replied confidently. "I studied the tales of great gutsy heroes in school.”
"So, short-stack," Christian Rosencreutz began, his voice carrying a hint of scholarly interest. “Have you ever considered the parallels between our battle and ancient Near Eastern religions?”
Sogiita listened intently. "Are you saying you see yourself as a god of war or a hunter?" he inquired.
CRC chuckled softly. "In a sense, indeed. We are both assuming roles in this grand theater, are we not? I, the Hydra, and you, Heracles."
He continued, "Consider the Second Labor of Heracles. Eurystheus, the king of Tiryns, sent Heracles to slay the Hydra, which Hera had raised specifically to defeat him. Heracles approached the swamp near Lake Lerna, where the Hydra dwelled. To protect himself from the poisonous fumes, he covered his mouth and nose with a cloth and shot flaming arrows into the Hydra's lair, causing it to emerge and terrorize the surrounding villages."
CRC paused, drawing a comparison. “In our own clash, the flaming arrows that Heracles hurled at the Hydra find their echo in your lightning-fast fists, generating shockwaves that ignite the air with their speed and force. It's as though each strike of yours is akin to shooting a flaming arrow, much like Heracles did.”
“Huh? Are you suggesting we're caught in a time loop? That some enigmatic group, like the Bridge Builders Cabal, manipulated events to resurrect you, pitting us against each other in a timeless struggle? I've never met them, and I'm certainly no child of Zeus. Are you implying that our battle will be distorted into a Greek legend by a meddling time traveler?!” frantically asked the boy.
“No, no, you simpleton. This world contains synchronicities. In Sumerian, Babylonian, and Assyrian mythology, the war and hunting god Ninurta was celebrated for his deeds. The Angim credited him with slaying eleven monsters during an expedition to the mountains, including a seven-headed serpent, possibly identical to the Mushmahhu, and Bashmu, whose constellation was later associated with the Hydra by the Greeks. In Babylonian contexts, the Hydra's constellation is also linked to Marduk's dragon, the Mushhushshu.”
“Uhhh….” That shounen boy was dumbfounded.
"Hhm, I suppose calling it a time loop isn't technically wrong," Christian Rosencreutz began, his tone measured. "I'll break it down from history class and reconstruct it through the lens of the occult. Historic recurrence, young Gemstone, is the phenomenon of events echoing throughout time. Whether it's the rise and fall of empires or the repetitive cycles within a single society, it's all part of this grand plan that was decided when Adam ate the forbidden fruit."
The #7 with his guard up but curious listened: "So, history just keeps repeating itself? Just a series of coincidences?"
Christian Rosencreutz shook his head sagely. "There is no such thing as coincidences. Take, for instance, the Doctrine of Eternal Recurrence, pondered upon by thinkers like Heinrich Heine and Friedrich Nietzsche. While it's said that 'history repeats itself,' it's not quite that simple. Rather, these recurrences stem from identifiable circumstances and chains of causality."
He continued, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of philosophical debate. "Consider the phenomenon of multiple independent discoveries in science or the reproducible findings in natural and social sciences. These recurrences, whether in the form of rigorous experimentation or comparative research, are vital to our understanding of the world."
Christian Rosencreutz paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. "G.W. Trompf, in his seminal work, The Idea of Historical Recurrence in Western Thought, illustrates the recurring patterns of political thought and behavior since ancient times. Through these patterns, history offers us invaluable lessons, often leading to a sense of resonance or déjà vu."
Their words reverberated like a challenge to destiny itself, a testament to their unyielding determination in the face of adversity.
That Gemstone didn't surrender his characteristic fervor. "History echoing through time, huh? It's like the universe itself is stuck on repeat, and we're just caught in the cycle. But you know what? If history's gonna keep looping, then let's break the pattern! Let's smash through those chains of causality and forge our own path. Who cares about déjà vu? We'll create something entirely new, something that'll shake the very foundations of this world and we’ll do it with guts!!!" He defied that silver monster.
But Rosencreutz wasn't finished. He pulled out his Crystal World Map.
The supposedly old man listened intently to that boy's impassioned response, his expression inscrutable behind his clairvoyant card. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke.
“Gemstone, you speak of breaking free from the chains of repetition, of forging a new destiny against the backdrop of eternal return. It is a noble aspiration, indeed. However, consider this: eternal return is not merely a philosophical concept or a whimsical notion of fate. It is the very fabric of existence, woven into the nature of time itself.” He pressed his finger on the Miniature Garden and a 3D holographic projection flew out—
“In ancient times, the Stoics grappled with the idea, seeing in it both a sense of cosmic order and a challenge to individual agency. Augustine and others recoiled from its implications, fearing it as a negation of free will and salvation. And yet, Nietzsche, in his brilliance, dared to confront the concept anew, exploring its depths in the crucible of human consciousness.”
Didn't Aleister Crowley say that he had to shatter every single phase in order to eliminate the concept of fate?
“I will shatter every last phase and put an end to all mysticism. It can be helped and we need not restrain our tears and bite our lip when faced with tragedy. I will bring back the pure world in which everyone can feel anger like normal and question it all like normal!!”
And didn't Coronzon appear to break down all the phases including the Pure World?
Partial destruction would be meaningless. If anything remains and an eternal distortion is born from that, then it will all happen again. I will eliminate the ten spheres, the twenty-two pathways, and the hidden eleventh symbol. Collisions between phases? Sparks and spray? You cannot save anyone if you only treat those symptoms. All of the fundamental clogs must be removed. All so we can pass the baton to whoever comes next.”
“Sparks and Sprays…” Rosencreutz muttered.
“Eh?” The #7 didn't quite hear him.
"Beside time stands fate, cruelty's steadfast herald. In the silent chambers of the soul, whispers the most profound wisdom. Humanity, in its folly, neglected to exalt life's splendor, its radiance, its grandeur. Truly, it is a rare gift to comprehend the forces that shape our existence.” That magician spoke in despair.
“From the moment man ate the fruit of knowledge, he guaranteed your species’ failure... Entrusting his future to the whims of fate, man clutches to a flickering hope. Yet, within the Miniature Garden lies the key to all revelation. Beyond the well-trodden path lies the ultimate terminus. It matters not who you are; Death is the sole certainty awaiting all.” he finished with scorn.
Shokuhou Misaki was currently linked to Sogiita Gunha so was overhearing the entire conversation.
“Are you okay, Leader?” asked Kamijou back at the hospital.
“Yeah…” she responded.
“Really?” Mikoto breathed a white sigh. “It wasn’t the shock of seeing their school destroyed. Nor was it the fear of having those rioters attack. …They’re afraid of their own power. And after learning how exactly to use that power to survive, they’re not sure they can just switch it off and return to their normal lives. So their gears have ground to a halt.” Tokiwadai Middle School was a prestigious esper development school.
The young ladies registered there were Level 3 at the lowest and Level 5 at the highest.
Almost all of the students had a power that surpassed that of a blade or handgun if used properly, but something had become twisted.
Yes.
“A lot of them weren’t really sure why they were training their powers.”
Shokuhou breathed a white breath, wrapped her own arms around herself, and rubbed her thighs together.
Why are you studying?
How many people could give a proper answer to that question? Because my parents told me to, because my teachers taught me to, because that’s how the world works. Those would be most people’s answers. Even the students with a clear vision of their future would only have something vague like “for the entrance exams” or “for my future”.
Only a small handful would have specific puzzle pieces in mind, such as “I need to learn how to use this equation so I can build a rocket”.
The young ladies of Tokiwadai Middle School were the same.
What if the very gears that humans have…their actions, reactions, inactions were all the result of some transcendental entity hovering above.
Like God or The Devil watching over humanity’s reality sphere and ordering around his system like everyone was a pre-programmed NPC that had specific events occur to them to get them to develop in the way that they did and determined their genetic bloodline that composed their psyche?
Is there truly a free will?
It was said that in order for you to break out of the system of society that the working class was stuck in you had to climb to the top where the corrupt elites resided.
Imagine Breaker negated sparks, Aleister Crowley could see through the veil thanks to Holy Guardian Angel Aiwass, Great Demon Coronzon could always see the cogs.
Christian Rosencreutz could view the entire world through his Miniature Garden.
The rest of humanity was at the mercy of their own destinies.
A Guardian Angel wouldn't arrive to save a parent’s child from fate every single time.
"Okay, nice poetry, can we get back to fighting already?" asked the #7 impatiently.
"Seems I got carried away," the old man conceded with a nod. "The synchronicities of this world, akin to the astral configurations in astrology, serve as an example of synchronicity, according to Jung. It describes circumstances that appear meaningfully related yet lack a causal connection, much like the parallel relationship between celestial and terrestrial phenomena. Synchronicity experiences entail subjective encounters where coincidences between events in one's mind and the external world may lack a clear causal link but still harbor an unknown connection.”
"Ah," Sogiita chimed in, recalling his philosophy class discussions. "We talked about synchronicity back then. Jung thought it was a good thing for the mind, but said it could get dicey in psychosis. He cooked up this theory as a kind of mental link between those meaningful coincidences, calling it a noncausal principle. This term came about in the late 1920s, and then he teamed up with physicist Wolfgang Pauli to dive deeper. Their work, The Interpretation of Nature and the Psyche, dropped in 1952. They were big on this idea that these connections, even the ones that don't seem to have a cause, could still teach us a lot about how our minds and the world work."
“Mhm, you know more than you lead on, Gemstone.” pondered CRC.
“Oh this? My teachers say I'm not good at remembering speeches hahaha…” The #7 looked slightly nervous. “You know, analytical psychologists really push for folks to get what these experiences mean to boost their awareness instead of just feeding into superstitions. But funny thing is, when clients spill about their synchronicity experiences, they often feel like no one's really hearing them out, or getting where they're coming from. And hey, having a bunch of these meaningful coincidences flying around can sometimes ring the schizo bell. Delusions aren't healthy.”
Where was this conversation going?
"Delusion! Hah! That's a good one coming from you," CRC fired back.
"The real delusion is thinking humanity isn't worth a damn," Sogiita shot back, pulling out some info from Johansen and Osman. "Some scientists think coincidences are just random flukes, but counselors and psychoanalysts reckon there's more to it, like some deep-down stuff needing to come out.”
"Delusion! Hah! That's a good one coming from you," CRC fired back.
"The real delusion is thinking humanity isn't worth a darn," Sogiita shot back, pulling out some info from Johansen and Osman. "Some scientists think coincidences are just random flukes, but counselors and psychoanalysts reckon there's more to it, like some deep-down stuff needing to come out. Unconscious material to be expressed."
Rosencreutz interjected, his expression reflecting a mix of confusion and concern. "Aleister Crowley's actions have left a lasting scar on this world and this city," he began, his voice weighted with solemnity. “The vacuum-like dichotomy between magic and science created by the use of that colossal psychotronic weapon, has damaged this world's memory irreparably.”
Psychotronic weapon?
The Archetype Controller?
He paused, his gaze piercing as he continued, "Jung's exploration of synchronicity as evidence of the paranormal paved the way for further inquiry, notably by Koestler and the subsequent embrace of these ideas by the New Age movement.”
Sogiita shrugged, "Some folks say synchronicity is impossible to test or prove, so it gets labeled as pseudoscience. Jung even acknowledged that these synchronicity events are basically just coincidences, statistically speaking. But hey, who's to say what's really going on without some solid scientific studies, right?"
"Dubious as his experiments may have been," CRC interrupted, "Jung believed in a connection between synchronicity and the paranormal, drawing parallels to the uncertainty principle and works by parapsychologist Joseph B. Rhine.” CRC posed a thought-provoking question, "How are we to recognize acausal combinations of events, since it is obviously impossible to examine all chance happenings for their causality? The answer lies in the fact that acausal events are most readily expected where a causal connection appears inconceivable upon closer reflection. It's impossible, with our current resources, to explain ESP or meaningful coincidences as mere phenomena of energy. This challenges the very notion of cause and effect, as these events occur simultaneously rather than in a linear cause-and-effect manner. Hence, I have coined the term 'synchronicity' to describe this phenomenon, placing it on equal footing with causality as a principle of explanation."
Getting closer to that Gemstone, CRC emphasized, "Esper abilities cannot be fully understood with science alone. They defy traditional cause-and-effect explanations, instead representing a convergence of factors that create a quantum phenomenon affecting both the micro and macro. Why were there the naturally gifted and the naturally ungifted?”
Why did some students get praised for their abilities while others needed to work harder?
Others among them would have worked every hour of their free time and not progressed anywhere in this city’s leveling curriculum.
Why did this city present such an unfair and unpredictable status quo of potential?
Why did hard work barely matter in a city of empirical evidence to record any possible progress?
Sogiita Gunha wasn't a normal Level 5 but he wasn't always this powerful. He went through the curriculum same as everyone but if the outside conditions for his Gemstone ability to manifest didn't form in the exact way that it did, in such an acausal form then would he even be here to challenge Christian Rosencreutz right now?
Everything just happened to fall right into place.
All those puzzle pieces that would lead to this moment here and now.
Was it all just talent? God picking a fool as his champion?
The #7 leaned back, absorbing CRC's words with a thoughtful expression. "So, what you're saying is, there's this whole other layer to reality that we can't quite wrap our heads around," he summarized, nodding slowly. "I mean, it's like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands—slippery and elusive."
He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Historic recurrence, synchronicities, all these things—they're like pieces of a puzzle scattered across this substantial reality. And sometimes, they just... click into place, right? It's like the universe has its own plan, and we're just along for the ride."
That bandana wearing boy's gaze drifted, lost in thought. "You know, CRC, it's funny," he remarked, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Here we are, with all our powers and potential, but at the end of the day, we're still grappling with the same questions as everyone else. Talent, destiny, divine intervention—maybe they're all just different sides of the same coin."
He shrugged, the weight of the philosophical musings settling over the broken city. "Who knows? Maybe God does have a sense of humor, after all.” that boy chuckled.
There was a deep silence between them.
Rosencreutz’ response was swift and resolute, his tone filled with certainty. "All this ‘universe has a plan’ banter is just a distraction from the inevitable," he declared, his eyes narrowing. "We can debate the nature of us being all-powerful yet struggling with mortal issues until the sun burns out, but it won't change the fact that our fate was sealed upon the knowledge Adam learned."
“To think so many trivialities have developed while this old man wasn’t watching. Heh heh. Then I should assume the thread of fate has again begun to weave its strange connections between myself and some unknown human.”
He rose forward, his movements purposeful. "It's time to put an end to this dance of platitudes," CRC continued, his voice cold and unwavering. "We'll settle this the only way that somewhat matters—through objective action in this grand play."
“Silence, preserved doll. Illusionists are meant to remain silent. That is all we magicians are: wielders of substanceless illusions. Opening your mouth serves only to break the illusion.”
With a flicker of resolve in his eyes, he locked gazes with the #7. "I am Hydra, Gemstone," he said, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. "Our battle ends now.” CRC opened both his palms and began shooting at their surroundings, the buildings, the pavement, the apartments, the rubble.
It probably wasn't random as it seemed to create a pattern.
“Huh are you getting senile old man?” asked the young Gemstone.
“What fun. I never imagined someone would bother diligently polishing their skills this far while knowing it is all essentially an illusion. Didn’t you ever feel silly going to the effort?”
Rosencreutz dropped to all fours, his rosy cross sword gripped tightly in his right hand.
He moved—
“Arrgh!” Sogiita yelled amidst the relentless and precise and precise strikes from that golden cross. “Old man?” he asked.
That magician didn't say anything.
That silver man’s movements became more beastly.
Faster.
Stronger.
Fiercer.
Something new was beginning to manifest.
With each strike of his higher dimensional blade that old man’s blows seemed infused with an otherworldly energy.
The wounds inflicted by his weapon burned with a venomous intensity, sending searing pain coursing through Sogiita's body.
That boy grimaced as the poison from that silver man’s strikes surged through his being, each wound feeling like it was ablaze with venomous fire.
"Damn... That burns…like a killer hornet’s sting," he muttered through clenched teeth, his voice strained with effort. Gritting, he fought to maintain his focus, despite the agony threatening to overwhelm him.
Was this another application of The Four Stages? Citrinitas? No, there was nothing yellow here, it was more like a dirty purple.
But it wasn't just the physical damage that posed a threat.
As the Rosy Cross leader leaped on all fours his movements took on an almost erratic quality, he was bouncing from one building to another with an animalistic agility.
With each jump, a shockwave rippled through the air, carrying with it a palpable sense of dread.
Something was spreading.
The air around them seemed to thicken with a toxic miasma. The #7 struggled to breathe, the noxious fumes clouding his senses.
Like a chaotic monster’s venomous poison breath.
The once-clear air now felt thick and suffocating.
Gasping for breath, the bandana boy struggled to maintain his focus amidst the swirling chaos.
His vision blurred, his movements sluggish as he fought against the oppressive atmosphere.
Blinded that heroic boy could only fire a flame arrow without his sight.
His fists striking out with all the strength he could muster. Igniting in that poisonous compressed air.
It seemed to be flammable like a dragon’s breath.
???
At the hospital, Shokuhou's voice carried a mix of surprise and relief. “He caused real damage.” she exclaimed.
Kamijou turned his attention to her, intrigued. “What happened?”
“It's hard to see clearly, but it looks like the #7 managed to rip off CRC's left arm,” she explained. “Though, I'd say it was more of a lucky shot. I can read he acted on pure instinct.”
Kamijou nodded, a hint of melancholy in his tone. “Yeah... the psychic link and all.”
Had the #7 Level 5 given up on the old man?
Back on the battlefield, Sogiita cursed under his breath. “Dammit... Sorry, old man,” he muttered. “I was aiming to hit your whole body to maximize the surface area, maybe break a few bones as a casualty. We can probably get your arm reattached at the hospital. Heaven Canceller has enough guts to even fix me.”
It was clear—he hadn't given up.
It was an accidental strike of his arm.
“As each ghastly head was severed from its serpentine form, dreadfully, two more writhed forth from the abyss.” a cryptic voice amidst the chaos spoke.
Wasn't it said that the Hydra’s lair was the lake of Lerna in the Argolid.
Lerna was reputed to be an entrance to the Underworld.
The abyss.
The Ungrund.
There is no limit to the depth of the Alcyonian Lake, and I know of nobody who by any contrivance has been able to reach the bottom of it since not even Nero, who had ropes made several stades long and fastened them together, tying lead to them, and omitting nothing that might help his experiment, was able to discover any limit to its depth. This, too, I heard. The water of the lake is, to all appearance, calm and quiet but, although it is such to look at, every swimmer who ventures to cross it is dragged down, sucked into the depths, and swept away.
The keeper of the gate to the Underworld that lay in the waters of Lerna was the Hydra.
The serpentine Lake Monster.
“Rosencreutz……?” The #7 muttered.
That magician chuckled ominously. "Indeed, young Heracles," he intoned, his voice echoing with a bizarre resonance. “The Lernaean Hydra's curse is upon you now.” as he said that he ripped off a bit of his arm that was cuterarised and it began bleeding.
Anna Sprengel’s blood was said to create unknown miracles when spilled.
Christian Rosencreutz’ blood was so virulent that even its scent was deadly.
As Sogiita Gunha glanced at his severed arm lying on the ground, a creeping sense of horror enveloped him. "All fate is a curse and that curse," he murmured, his words barely audible over the din of battle, "extends even to my severed limb.”
Christian Rosencreutz’ left arm grew back.
No.
Two new arms grew in its place.
The arm was fully functioning with no defects.
Although one of the arms appeared somewhat scaly and lanky like a serpent.
It had human anatomy but something was abnormal here.
He almost looked like a spider as he emerged from the poisonous fog as he remained on all fours.
“So short-stack. Are you ready to complete your final labor: Crossing the abyss!!!” He challenged that boy with his cross sword facing him.
"Boss, what's up? You look kinda stuck," Kamijou asked, his tone concerned.
Two students were sitting together in the waiting room at a hospital.
"—abyss, Hydra, curse, synchronicities, Historic recurrence." she replied, her words carrying a weight of unease.
"Huh? What? Can you give me the lowdown?" Kamijou prodded, his urgency evident.
"Can't quite wrap my head around it. But what I can tell you is that after CRC started talking about these esoteric concepts, he leveled up his power ability, managed to seriously hurt the #7 despite me cranking up all his stats for the win condition," the honey-blonde girl explained, frustration creeping into her voice.
"Can you beam all that stuff into my head, like a memory download? You're a psychological esper, right? My right hand won't mess with it, and we've done the telepathy thing before," Kamijou suggested.
"Memory download's not quite it, but I can send you a recording," she clarified.
"Got it," Kamijou muttered as he absorbed the info.
"You got any ideas to help the #7’s situation ability, Kamijou-san? We're kinda desperate here," she asked.
"I wish Index was still here, dammit.” he lamented, “But you know about magic, right?" he queried.
"Yeah, people converting their delusions into reality right?," she admitted.
"Well, magic's not just about delusions; it can be tied up to the whole world. Not sure if it's relevant, but based on Idol Theory, Rosencreutz might be pulling in 'energy’ from the Greek 'phase’ of Heracles for an edge," Kamijou theorized.
"Like a chessboard flip?" Shokuhou Misaki inquired, her brow furrowed with concern.
"No, more like... imagine you're playing checkers with a buddy, and you're totally crushing it because you're a checkers pro. Then suddenly, your buddy switches it up and challenges you to an arm wrestling match, and you lose because, well, arm wrestling isn't your forte," Kamijou Touma explained, trying to paint a vivid picture.
"So, by taking on the role of the Hydra from Greek myth, he's essentially forcing the #7 into the role of Heracles? But didn't Heracles defeat the Hydra?" Shokuhou sought clarification.
"Yeah, but..." Kamijou recalled the tale from the movies he'd seen. "Lichas gave Heracles a shirt soaked in the Hydra's poisonous blood from his arrows, which ends up killing him by tearing his flesh down to the bone," he elaborated.
"It was actually Nessus seeking vengeance and tricking Deianira into giving it to Heracles as a gift, delivered by Lichas without disclosing the tunic's lethal bloodstained secret from the Lernaean Hydra, but you're right," Shokuhou corrected gently. "So, Rosencreutz is harnessing the power of that legend to slowly poison the #7?"
"Not literal. I mean the poison is real but his slashes do significant harm now so it's more like shifting the paradigm in his favor…shifting his position.” The spiky-haired boy wasn't in the mood to explain Phases, “Earlier, he mentioned Sogiita spreading his 'virus' throughout the world. A virus isn't a poison in the traditional sense, but the Rosicrucians originally sought to create a universal cure for all illnesses. Now, CRC is spreading a literal poison, positioning himself as the ultimate predator and his opponents as prey rather than his savior role, the paradigm has been shifted." Kamijou concluded, his voice tinged with gravity.
“So he’s changed the environment to get the win condition? The #7’s durability doesn't matter in the face of the world being forced to go about a certain way because of Rosencreutz stage play?” The girl asked.
“Yeah…if things keep going this way…Sogiita will….goddamnit….” The spiky haired boy swore. “I can't let someone else die after all that's happened but I feel like if I go out there I really will kill him…” he muttered that last bit while clenching his right fist that began shaking uncontrollably.
The girl’s eyes seemed confused. “What did you say?” The honey blonde middle schooler asked.
“Nothing, just mumbling to myself.” he spat out.
That boy and girl could never come to the right conclusion on their own without the aid of former Magic God Othinus by their side.
“Did you think I had challenged you with no hope of succeeding, you cesspool? The magic born on earth is bound by the directions based on the earth’s magnetic field and by the density and composition of the air which is determined by air pressure which is in turn influenced by gravity. That is inevitable when you are focused on the cardinal directions of north, south, east, and west or on the basic elements of fire, water, wind, and earth. But what you will find upon leaving the atmosphere is an unknown. Coronzon, are you sure there will be no malfunction in the magic giving you control of Avatar Lola? And before, my power was bound by the puny speck named earth which failed to become a black hole or even a sun, but once we enter outer space, just how far do you think that power will be released? I do not mind at all that I will lose the support of Academy City.”
Well the boy was half right.
“Let us test it out, you cuspidor. On one side, we have you using the planet and bound to an avatar. On the other, we have me exposed and freed from the planet. Now, who will be the star of this show?”
Christian Rosencreutz did not shoot at his surroundings for no reason.
The battlefield transformed into Rosencreutz's canvas, resembling the legendary battleground of Lerna where Heracles once clashed with the Hydra.
Yes.
He didn't unleash his powers randomly; every action was deliberate.
In the magical side of Idol Theory, mimicking an object, event, or person allowed one to tap into a fraction of its power.
And that even applied to locations that essentially worked as stage plays.
Idol Theory was so absolute that even the basic cross held a portion of the son of God’s power.
As Above, So Below.
As Below, So Above.
Macro to micro.
Micro to macro.
And the macrocosm and the microcosm are always linked.

First Prev
Star Crossed [Multiple Free Sample Chapters] Patreon Subreddit Discord Paperback NOP2 Species Lore
Memory Transcription Subject: Elias Meier, Former UN Secretary-General
Date [standardized human time]: July 13, 2160
The irritability coursing through my psyche was palpable. Every sound was dialed up to eleven, stabbing at the core of my sensory processing. Constant awareness grated on me after days without sleep, never having any break from the stream of information I needed to digest. There was no way to shut the world off and reset, and no reprieve from the unsettling reality of my physical experience. I was curled up in a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth; I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go on like this.
Virnt scuttled over to me in the spaceship, jostling my shoulder. “Elias? Would you like to turn back from this mission?”
I remembered how I’d spent most of the trip, standing under the water in the shower. There was a special shampoo they’d provided for synthetic hair, like a wig. I held out my phony hand and emptied most of the bottle’s worth of goop, zoning out; I was trying to soak in the distant sensation of liquid running down my spine. Once upon a time, this had been the most relaxing time of my day—letting muscle tension fade away and cleansing grimy skin oils. Now, I knew neither of those two still existed in my day-to-day life to assuage.
Did it even matter to slap soap on some metal frame? There were no consequences of letting hygiene go by the wayside. I didn’t sweat in order to start to reek, and I couldn’t get skin conditions or be affected by bacteria. It could be that I was bathing out of habit, clinging to my old lifestyle, that I kept going to wash up. Perhaps the shower had become my favorite haunt because I felt disgusting in this body. Everything was a reminder that I was an inhuman scrap pile, and it was wearing on my sanity. It wasn’t like anyone related to what I was going through.
I used to spend so much time fussing over making my suits look crisp and perfect—immaculate ties, UN pins adjusted just right. The heavy jackets would trap my body heat in the summer; now, it no longer had that effect. I could bundle up as much as I wanted in 40 degree Celsius heat, unless there was some limit that would fry my circuits. Shit, I might not need a spacesuit in the vacuum of space—I couldn’t freeze or suffocate, after all. Being left out in the void for all eternity didn’t sound that much different from my present experience.
I hate what I’ve become. I hate what they’ve done to me; all I do is think, and every part of my new self lives in the uncanny valley. There’s nothing positive. Maybe it’s time to call it…death was better than this. I can’t bear another day of this hell.
“Hey, stay with me! Distractibility, depression, being unable to maintain concentration—these are natural consequences of sleep deprivation. I’m surprised it carries over without a physical mechanism to grow tired…but I’m working on a sleep suite, I promise,” Virnt said, glossy eyes staring at me.
I groaned. “I’m not tired, but it’s just nonstop. I…I’m having trouble remembering what I read.”
“Here, I’m going to try a temporary fix. You look like you need it. I don’t want you to suffer; just turning you off and on isn’t the same. I’m going to emulate GABA, uh, shut off your optic sensors, decrease the activity in your prefrontal cortex, and simulate delta waves for an hour. We can see if it somewhat fills the need for deep sleep, okay? Relaxation, no processing: worth a shot, right?”
I nodded mutely, staying in the fetal position. I didn’t have the will to move, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up that Virnt’s plan would be any mercy. The sensation of the Tilfish tinkering with my settings was strange, as if my brain was being overridden in the moment. There was no process of falling asleep to give it the air of naturalness. Suddenly, I was blind, trapped in darkness—and a modicum of drowsiness kicked in, limiting my movement. Thoughts died down, offering much-need relief; I faintly wished I could remain in this state.
When I came to, there was a sudden influx of information as the rest mode was switched off; it was hardly a seamless waking, but I’d take it. Peace in my own head was something I’d never take for granted again. I hadn’t thought myself to be a weak-minded individual, but I hadn’t realized how much it wore on you: feeling out of place in your own body every waking second, and not trusting your senses. Brain function had been restored enough that I could get a grip on myself, and rise in my disheveled state. A peek out the window revealed we’d completed our intra-atmosphere transit to the Duerten embassy.
I rubbed my eyes on reflex, but there were no gifts from the Sandman there. “Why couldn’t you have just added everything to start with, Virnt?”
“The humans I talked to said they wouldn’t want to sleep, unless they had to! I put the most focus on your emotional matrix and your facial expressiveness, since I thought that has the highest importance of what makes you human,” the Tilfish replied.
“You could’ve made it at least optional.”
“I sent the option to your holopad for the future, to trigger this program for as long as you’d like. This is a learning process, so I’m sorry for anything that’s off. All trial and error here, but it’s only going to get better! That’s the positive.”
“There are a lot of patches needed. For starters, you’re missing two of the senses: taste and smell. In spite of that, ever since I walked past the Terra Technologies staff eating tater tots, I’ve been craving them at random intervals. I’m not hungry—I can’t consume food!”
“Predator instincts,” Virnt teased. “The Federation was right.”
“I’m serious! Why on Earth would that be a thing? I literally can’t satisfy it, so it’s almost cruel.”
“It’s psychological, Elias. I looked into it after I saw it in your transcript. When humans are under a lot of stress or otherwise feeling down, you seek dopamine from food. It’s something familiar that activated your memories, and promised emotional comfort. That’s why you have the phrase ‘comfort food.’”
“I can already see how the Federation remnants would spin that. A predator’s so-called emotions are tied to food, and stimulate appetite to fulfill their whims.”
“You seem in better spirits. To add to your improved mood, we announced the success of your memory transplant to the world. The response was overwhelmingly positive—history looked back fondly on you. You got a lot of well-wishes, and I was able to get almost all of your social media re-activated. At least, the platforms that are still active.”
“I’m…allowed to share my honest experiences?”
Virnt eased me out of the shuttle, into the sunlight; cameras were waiting, causing me to stiffen. “Of course you can. I’m not here to muzzle you, my friend. Quite the opposite, in fact: I want your experiment documented as thoroughly as possible! You’re the spokesperson for—”
I shielded my face from the reporters, who were lobbing questions. “What is this? I don’t have a prepared statement. This is an ambush.”
“Terra Technologies has a mission of transparency, and improving sapients’ quality of life through digital means. We had to announce such a monumental breakthrough, but you’re under no obligation to speak with them.”
“Good,” a warm voice chimed in from next to me, making me jump. “The poor guy’s come back from the dead, Virnt. Give him a break. He’s here to speak with the Duerten Forum and their ambassador, for some semblance of his old life.”
I turned my head, beaming as I recognized her. “Erin? Oh, sorry: that’s Secretary-General Kuemper, isn’t it? You’ve moved up in the world. The United Nations is in good hands.”
“It’s good to see you, Elias. I bawled my eyes out at your funeral. You cared so much for peace and taking the high road; there isn’t a person out there who could’ve handled first contact with more grace. You inspired me, and an entire generation of future diplomats.”
I embraced Erin, who’d once been a passionate SETI researcher giving me all of the bad news about aliens. As we flailed about in the dark to save humanity and adjust to the galaxy, finally acquiring a few friends, she’d become my Secretary of Alien Affairs. I’d trusted her to do whatever it took to stabilize our extraterrestrial relations. It was a bit of a relief to see a positive reaction from someone I knew; I wasn’t sure how my friends would take my return, but I hadn’t been expecting a welcome with open arms. It brought me solace and comfort to know about the legacy I’d left behind, and the ripple effects my tenure had on the United Nations.
It is strange to see how much she’s aged. That’ll be the reality of anyone that used to be an acquaintance of mine.
The alarm bells pinging in my head faded into the backdrop, and I forgot that the wind gusting against my face only felt like a dull push. My mind slipped away from food cravings that failed to get my mouth to water, how there was no feeling of tightness from my dress shoes, and the stillness of my non-existent diaphragm. I was simply happy to see someone I cared about and enjoyed working with, in my old life. There was safety in having a person I trusted to be on my side. My brain snapped back into diplomat mode, falling into a familiar flow of conversation. If I had nothing else, I still had my social skills—an ability to navigate various cultures.
“So the Duerten Forum agreed to meet with the two of us. They know about the Sivkit attack, but not the full threat,” I spoke aloud, after breaking away from the rather soul-affirming embrace. “I read the strategy meetings for briefing them, and I’m on-board to appeal to nostalgia; humanity saving their homeworld was after my time, but close enough to it that I could serve as a reminder. A blast from the past.”
Erin nodded, her security forming a wall between us and the cameras as we walked toward the embassy. “I always wondered what you’d think of modern Vienna, Elias. All of the aliens willing to be here on our world, and to treat us like people. Friendship used to seem like a pipe dream; we were happy if they’d allow us to exist, tolerate us to that extent. Look at us now.”
“I almost gave up hoping that they could care about us, or stand beside us at all. We couldn’t do it alone then. It’s time we remember to stand together—to rise to the occasion once more. I can’t bear the thought of anything threatening our home, or our friends. I saw enough needless death twenty-four years ago.”
“That pain is a lot more recent to you. It’s completely okay to be wrestling with grief. A billion of ours died.”
“We didn’t become the monsters they thought we were, and we pulled through. We revealed their hatred and treachery, and have chosen a future set on rectifying every right they trampled. I’ll always mourn what we lost, but I’ve never been more proud of humanity in my life.”
Kuemper patted my shoulder. “You sound like yourself, my dear old friend. It’s very good to have you back; you were much better at smiling while they spit in your face than I ever was. Let’s do what’s necessary to get the ball rolling with the Shield.”
“I’m right behind you.”
The exterior of the Duerten embassy had a distinct construction style, with metal and concrete forming the bulk of the outside structure; on Kalqua, sturdiness was at the foremost of their priorities. Winds on a normal day could ratchet up to what we’d consider a tropical storm, according to my brief review of their culture. The door was evidently heightened to facilitate foot traffic from humans, despite the exit hatches on the upper floor which seemed frequented by the avian staff. Their personnel could literally fly away during an emergent situation. I tailed Kuemper into the lobby, and noted how much of the inside’s floor was concrete as well. It was resilient and easy to clean, a perfect surface to avoid being marred by talons.
Most of the gray avians used perches instead of chairs, with several staffers working on paperwork at their desks; in private areas, some met with any humans who had business with the Duerten Forum. The lack of reaction to a predator’s approach was new to me, but a welcome change. Kuemper confidently led the way to an elevator, which had the English and German words for “Welcome to the Duerten embassy!” written above the opening. The generic Shield logo was painted on both sides of the door, and emblazoned with a representation of Kalqua. There were no buttons inside, apart from an emergency exit; a camera surveyed us, before a watching staffer summoned the car upward. I felt a jolt as we reached the top floor.
“To be visited by two Secretary-Generals: one of whom is a ghost! Let me express the Duerten Forum’s honor and delight. Not, of course, that I don’t cherish Ambassador Hannah Marston’s visits.” A silver-feathered head poked out of a door at the end of the hallway, past a spacious lounge; his beak was the precise yellow of corn. “Please, come in. Make yourselves at home. Can I get you anything to drink?”
Kuemper shuffled forward, giving me a knowing look. “Water would be lovely for me. Thank you for the warm welcome, Ambassador Korajan.”
“I second that gratitude. Enchanted to meet you. I’m sure you know, but I’m Elias Meier.” Taking a gamble that the ambassador was more than acquainted with our customs, I extended a hand. Korajan strode forward with confidence, ensnaring my palm in his wingtip. “We appreciate you taking the time to sit with us, Ambassador.”
“Just Korajan,” the avian said, feeling my artificial hand with undeniable curiosity. He finally released my grip, and waited for us to get seated. “There’s no need for formalities, especially when I’m in such esteemed company. What can I do for you?”
“We’ve come to seek your assistance in the fight against the Sivkits’ assailants. The Sapient Coalition needs allies to back us against these menaces,” Kuemper stated. “Any help we can get would make a difference.”
“I see. I heard about your unfortunate defeat in your prior engagement, but I don’t see how it involves or concerns us. The Duerten, as you well know, aren’t in the position we used to be. We’ve turned our focus inward for years, shoring up our defenses to watch out for our beloved planet. The potential benefit it might offer you is so negligible that it’s hardly worth increasing our vulnerability. The risk far outweighs the rewards for any party.”
I studied the avian, careful to avoid a direct stare. “I understand that it’s a lot to ask. However, small bits of help from across the Shield can accumulate to be a massive difference maker. We want to stop this genocidal force from getting anywhere near Kalqua; if we play our cards right, you won’t need defenses.”
“Elias—sorry, may I call you Elias?” Korajan asked, continuing after I nodded. “We’re, of course, concerned to have a predatory species with such power and intentions, outside our known terrain. They bear a striking resemblance to the Arxur, and my government does appreciate the advance warning from the SC so we can make preparations. Yet the Forum is concerned by several of your recent initiatives, which would make us doubly unwilling to back your cause.”
“Go on. What initiatives have unsettled you?” I hope he doesn’t mean me, with resurrecting dead humans; that’d hit close to home, and I don’t know how to defend it. “Perhaps we can clear up our rationale and intentions, ensuring that there are no misunderstandings.”
“I hope I’m not impolite to point it out, but my government is beginning to see a pattern in your recent connections to carnivores. The Sapient Coalition is attempting an uplift on one race, despite what we all know happened on Wriss, and has brought them into your mix while they are at war with each other. We’re also aware of these Osirs—a race you are resurrecting to live among you, despite having no idea what they’re capable of. Present company excluded, species that need meat are not trustworthy types. These Osirs are weapons: look at the fangs.”
“Anything is a weapon in the wrong hands. Respectfully, we don’t feel that it’s right to judge a species for their diet. If I’m not mistaken, your own kind were once omnivores, Korajan.”
The Duerten fluttered his wings in acknowledgement. “The Federation changed us greatly—some things for the better, others to erase our intellect. We’re an individualist species, and they tried to make us…what do you humans call it? A ‘hive mind.’ Hive minds, of course, are fiction, yet they tried to make it real. Still, sometimes when you’re changed enough, it makes it impossible to go back to how things were.”
“I of all people grasp that sentiment,” I sighed, without moving an abdominal muscle, reflecting how my life would never be the same in this state. “We believe all sapients deserve a chance at life and happiness. Equality isn’t a principle we withhold based on any factor, and we don’t change species to fit our own whims.”
“This is why we’re content with our relations as is: separate, so we’re not connected to your disputes or obligated to get involved. The Duerten will always have differences between what are considered acceptable behaviors, and our guiding principles and overarching goals.”
Kuemper tapped her fingers on her knee. “Regardless, our choices with the Bissems and Osirs will have no impact or tangible effects on the Duerten. Nor is it a reason to shy away from protecting herbivores, the mandate that led you to stand up to the Federation in the past.”
“That cost us everything. Kalqua took a beating worse than Earth did. We don’t set out to attract the ire of powerful enemies these days.”
“We saved Kalqua. We were there when you needed our help to keep your innocents safe,” I reminded him, knitting my eyebrows with earnestness. “We answer when others call for our help to stay alive; the Duerten know what drives us to answer the bell. Isn’t that worth a smidge of reciprocation?”
“If Earth, or for that matter, Leirn were under siege, we would come. However, it appears to us that you entered their territory, not the other way around.”
“Think of the type of species…no, the kind of governments that would glass worlds. The old-school Arxur Dominion. The Kolshian shadow caste when they were defied. The Krakotl extermination fleet because they hated us. That’s what we see in the Osirs, and the gluttonous killing of Sivkit civilians while refusing to speak. We can’t turn a blind eye.”
“I’m sorry, Elias. Even if I wanted to help you, I don’t have the authority. I’m expressing my government’s position, and I’ve been told the Duerten Forum isn't going to war under any circumstances. I apologize that I can’t be of more use, and regret if you might feel your time has been squandered, leaving empty-handed.”
I shared a look with Kuemper, recognizing that we had been stonewalled; there was an implication in Korajan’s last statement that the discussion on this matter was over. The Forum hadn’t given him any negotiating room, so I didn’t get the sense I could do better than asking for him to take a message. If this was the most friendly party we’d be interacting with, I wasn’t off to a good start wrangling support for an alliance. There were a few other Shield races we could try, but an endorsement from the founders might’ve gotten the whole union on board. We had to find another angle—negotiating with the Fed remnants would be impossible without the Shield as an intermediary.
“Of course we don’t feel that way. The back-and-forth was enlightening, productive communication, as much as humanity would love to stand side-by-side in this endeavor,” I offered. “We appreciate you hearing us out, and do hope you’ll pass along our rationale to the Forum, for clarity.”
“I will,” the Duerten responded. “Your words, as always, deserve to be heard and treated with respect.”
Kuemper followed my lead, rising as I stood. “Korajan, I want you to know I deeply appreciate what you said about coming to Earth’s aid should we ever fall on hard times. That stood out to me, as a reason why our cooperation is so precious and beautiful.”
“I agree wholeheartedly. I do wish you the best of luck in your future engagements; my people hope you emerge victorious.”
“Thank you. Our door will always be open if you have a change of heart.”
In my mind, I had already vacated the Duerten embassy, but it was necessary to retrace my steps to depart the ambassador’s office. Aliens were much more diplomatic in rebuffing us now than in my era, which was the proper way to express disagreements between nations. It wasn’t lost on me that the differences in “behaviors” and “principles” Korajan meant were things such as hunting, omnivory, accepting carnivores, exterminators, and predator disease facilities. The Forum still clung to much of their old lifestyle; the gray avian had stated that some Federation changes were “for the better.” That was telling about how much of their ideology they’d yet to shed.
“Forgive my impertinence, but before you go, Elias…may I ask a personal inquiry? It’s not on my behalf of my government,” Korajan called, as our shoes cleared the threshold of his office.
I turned around, giving him an encouraging smile. “Of course. Go ahead.”
“What…what was it like? To die…to be dead?”
“It wasn’t like anything. It was a singularity of all outcomes: all I ever was, and all I ever could be, condensed to nothing. There are no words to describe emptiness and infinite rest. It’s a peace that knows no equal.”
The Duerten dipped his head. “Thank you. It gives me some…personal solace, to know…to know my daughter is resting peacefully. She died in so much pain after only a short period of remission. Ahem…if you’ll excuse me, I…”
“We’ll leave you in peace,” Kuemper replied, softness in her voice.
I folded my hands behind my back, mulling over the choked-up ambassador’s words. How could I let a few days of mental suffering defeat me, when kids suffered through such terrible diseases—never getting to reach adulthood? This program could give children like Korajan’s daughter a chance to grow up, and be a kid, free from pain. As soon as I was alone, I knew I’d be cast back into a maddening state of consciousness, with my brain struggling to stay tethered to this reality. Where I’d been ready to give up before Virnt’s quick fix, the avian’s story made me want to remain in the fight.
The Tilfish had been right: there was the potential for the technology that had brought me back to do a lot of good, and save others a great deal of heartbreak and suffering. No personal sacrifice was too great to ensure that one day, no parent would ever have to bury their child.
First Prev
Star Crossed [Multiple Free Sample Chapters] Patreon Subreddit Discord Paperback NOP2 Species Lore