It is the day, where military force of Valerie here, finally goes into offensive. Jakan and I travel along with one of the heroes of the riven war, Kyrem, who is leading the cavalry archer battalion we are to be his eyes and ears of enemy movement. As we ride our horses, I wondered the source of Jakan happiness.
This time, it is different, this must have something to do with Jakan and one of the five heroes of riven war, Lankensy. They pressed their upper arms perpendicularly against each other, they chuckled to each other, then separated to get to their duties. I chose to not ask as it isn't important but, doesn't stop my curiosity.
We have reached our deployment position, I look at Kyrem, he nods to us. Commence reconnaissance, Jakan and I separate from the cavalry archer battalion to scout in peace. It took us a while to actually find undead formations within the area, but, even Jakan let out a coughing sigh from the sight of the numbers we are seeing.
'Winter's roar... If there is even one more formation like that... The cavalry battalions have a tough time... Something I should have expected but, mostly considered unlikely...' Jakan states mildly alarmed by the number of undead in the rectangular formation.
'Fyregeld would need to take part very early... Which is most likely going to be disadvantageous later?' Ask for a confirmation of what I suspect Jakan is thinking.
'Yes... Fyregeld most certainly will be needed in the fight...' Jakan replies still mildly astounded how large the formation is. We move on to continue scouting, but, this is bad news, I guessing both of us are suspecting that this formation's purpose is to alarm the town that they are going to be attacked very soon.
Unfortunately for us, there is a second formation that is just as large as the first one more to the south of south west of the town, while this one is to the south west of it. 'Great, just, bloody fantastic... I will have some choice words for the Valerian scouts, these are probably twice or even thrice the number of undead compared to what they reported...' Jakan says upset about the situation.
'And, these two are part of the three we are supposed to lure into attacking the cavalry... The Valerians are most certainly going to have a bad day...' Reply quietly to try to ease Jakan's mood. It does work...
'Right, let's go look for the third... Hopefully it won't be as big as this and the previous...' Jakan states calmly, remembering that we aren't supposed to take part in the fight against these, but, reports are almost certainly going to be ugly.
Third formation, behind the first formation we scouted is still big but, probably by a third smaller, still a risky fight but, not unwinnable. Jakan told me that best way to beat this one with the forces nearby, would be, that cavalry archers would jog past it while firing arrows into the formation from the rear and front, as the formation is fairly tight and there aren't enough shields.
The undead casualties would be high, the cavalry archers would only stay as long as to bait the enemy to charge them, which leaves them open to be charged by the Valerian cavalry battalion, under the command of Tyrelia, one of the heroes of riven war. It's going to be a nasty melee but, one that would be the most effective on completely destroying this formation.
Follow up maneuvers would be that the cavalry archers, once they are being pursued, will regroup to attack the large south western formation, while once the cavalry battalion has routed or utterly destroyed this small formation will attack the rear of the southern undead formation, to goad them to pursue them.
Once the cavalry archer battalion has begun the fall back, the cavalry battalion will follow. From there, it is following the plan. The plan discussed yesterday still can be done but, it is going to be a lot more uglier in terms of results than expected. We scouted little bit longer to make sure there aren't other formations nearby.
There is fourth, which we suspect to be a reserve formation for the assault, it is about as big as the third. There is a mistake with it's location however, that is good news for the cavalry archer battalion. They are too far away to assist the large south western formation. Jakan sighed from mild relief. 'Well, at least some kind of good news... Although, once the pursuit is initiated, they most likely will join the battle.' Jakan says to me.
'I agree, thankfully we aren't supposed to give battle assistance in these fights... We would both be sore from the exhaustion later today, or worse, grievously wounded.' Reply to Jakan, he nodded in agreement. Jakan then motioned to me with his head that, this is enough, time to report to battalions. Nodding in agreement we head back.We arrive as Kyrem and Tyrelia are talking with the squadron commanders. 'What are your reports?' Kyrem hails us as we approach.
'Relatively far away from the best news, unfortunately but, there is some good too.' Jakan states calmly knowing that what we have seen, is going bring up mixed feelings. Jakan debriefs all on scene, on what we have discovered.
Kyrem displayed some worry but, when we told about the secondary reserve formation's positional mistake. He began to think about the situation more intensily. Tyrelia also looked worried, she and the battalion under her command, have a work cut out for them...
All squadron commanders deemed the plan still doable but, they all agreed on the fact that, this is going to be a seriously tough skirmish. Now, they need to be quick, Tyrelia gave Jakan a flag pole and a flag for the second part of this operation. 'Anything you would like to say before we begin?' One of the cavalry squadron commanders ask from us.
'For life, for the people, for Valerie.' Jakan states in hardened tone, we must begin and see our parts done in this operation.
'For life, for the people, for Valerie. I agree.' Tyrelia say with high spirit.
'Time to do our duty, all of you ready?' Kyrem asks from all of us.'Yes, sir.' Jakan and I reply without hesitation nor fear. We departed to head towards the north west of the castle. Behind us, pace of the hooves of more than hundred horses began to jog. We will not see them for a while now.
As soon as we arrived to the area we should scout out for any possible formations that might try to take positions north west or west of the castle where the supposed surprise pitched battle is to happen. We begin scouting, for a while, all the way to the past mid day, we do not find any undead formations, they must have combined formations for the assault on the town.
Unfortunately for them, it was done way too early... And now, there is a massive gap in the area control, gap which armed forces of Valerie are now beginning to exploit. We don't know whether the cavalry battalions have made good on their promises at the moment but, unfortunately for the infantry battalions the gap is going to be closed soon.
And there will be a battle that is a hard one for the one Lankensy is leading. These undead formations we are seeing, two of them, are about same size and number as the reserve formations to the south and south west of the town. We will need to improvise, one of those reserve size formations would have been bad enough. As we were heading back.
We see smoke, quite thick and seems to be from the direction where Fyregeld was to be signaled to ignite a forest, which undead infantry would use to try catch up with the formation moving cavalry. Unfortunately for us, we do not know how much damage this has caused and, we, Lankensy and his infantry battalion have a big endeavor ahead of us.
Jakan is still staring at the formations, probably staring at the distance between them. 'We can take them.' Jakan states calmly, which baffled me so much so that I let out an audible what. 'We can take them, We will be outnumbered three to one but, I have a plan.' Jakan adds and shakes his two handed sword slightly.
'I don't think it is enough.' Reply to Jakan in unsure tone as, such numerical advantage is enough for every attacking force to destroy a defending force.
'We will improvise, I will tell you once we reach sir Lanksensy.' Jakan states confidently.
'Okay...' I say slightly shakily, unsure whether it is warrior heart of Jakan making him act stupidly, or soldier's mind that whatever is the adversity, we handle it together... We head to where we agreed to meet Lanksensy and the infantry battalion he is leading in this battle.
Jakan prepared the flag and the flag pole, attaches the flag on the pole, then began to wave it, as the undead formations came into an open ground. Both of soon heard roar from the sky, we looked to the direction and see Fyregeld diving to harass the rear of the second formation of undead behind us.
We continue riding our steeds to the rally point. We reach it in good time, Lankensy was waiting for us with Seirialia. 'Bad news, we will receive undead formation that outnumbers us three to one.' Jakan states immediately before dismounting, I follow him.Lankensy at first seemed quite eager to fight but, such odds sobered his expression. 'We can take them, Fyregeld is already harrassing the formation behind the first one from the rear, so there will be chaos which buys us time.' Jakan says, Lankensy frowns while Seirialia looked grim.
'Tell me you have a plan.' Lankensy says, sounding surprisingly content and a smirk appeared on his lips.
'Yes sir. I will use the runes on my blade to create walls to hide the true number of our forces and act as a small choke point for the infantry to hold, you divide your battalion to three detachments. The center will hold the choke point with all they have, while southern and northern detachments make sure we won't get flanked around the stone walls.
When they begin their attempt to flank, the south and north detachments will begin fighting advance to box in our opponents. Seirialia, your arcane mastery is required, take a high ground and, rain hell on the enemy masses that engage the infantry detachments.' Jakan explains the plan.
Jakan draws his plan on to the dirt with his mace as he speaks. The terrain we are at, most certainly favors us... From that high ground, to the north east, is a perfect place to begin. Lankensy motions the infantry commanders to approach. He briefs them on the plan Jakan has proposed.
'Jakan, this is going to get ugly, but, with this plan... The glory will be quite gorgeous.' Lankensy states as the infantry commanders nod that they will follow this plan.
'This will be an ugly battle but, we will win it. Volarie, I need you to provide me more arcane, if the battle does get bad, with your assistance I will break the ground beneath our foes, so they have to fight from a disadvantageous position.' Jakan says without a hint of worry in his voice.
'Would it be better that I would provide you the assistance Jakan?' Seirialia asks alarmed by proposal from Jakan to me.
'No, we need your skill in magic to disrupt undead and to make sure that they have will have difficult time on concentrating their forces to put pressure on any of the three infantry detachments. Volarie already knows how to do it, and we have done this couple times before.' Jakan replies in calm tone.
I do remember, they were small in scale but, with right amount of concentration, we can do even bigger one. I am still worried though... Seirialia has the better mastery of arcane, I do not have as much skill or energy as her and Jakan's own capacity for arcane is rather limited. The plan is good though...
'Alright, I am ready.' Say finally without hesitation, although, I have some in my heart...
'I will hold the center, Volarie, move with the northern detachment to the position, Jakan you do the same, but with the south. Seirialia, I think you should get into position.' Lankensy says calmly.
'Yes sir.' Jakan and I say.
'Alright, I will trust your judgment.' Seirialia says to Jakan.
'Lady, I will get it done.' Jakan states with serious tone and ready to do everything in his power to win this battle. She nods to Jakan trusting him and I to do our part.
Jakan used the runes on his blade to create the walls, while I went into the position. We began to wait, waiting, the most nerve wrecking part of his plan... Soon, undead were sighted and they immediately rush to engage the choke point, slightly dispersing to begin also go around the stone walls. North infantry detachment began to jog to close the flanks, I go with them.
The plan is so far working, undead began engaging all three points without concentrating to break out through one. Now, we wait again, I listen to the battle raging before me, every now and then look around to see if we are getting flanked. Then I saw big chunks of ice raining into the center of the open left side box, infantry have formed. Second reserve force has now entered the battle.
They also charged right in, this is the moment where Jakan and I, head to the rear of the undead, and break the ground they stand in. As we had practiced, I place my hand on Jakan's left shoulder and begin channeling my arcane energy into him, just as he began to grasp the earth with his hands and began casting an earth rupture spell.
I allowed Jakan to take the lead and just follow him. Spell is complete, and Jakan made a two handed fist, then brought it down onto the dirt in front of him. Like water that got hit by massive weight on it's surface earth ruptured upwards at the center of the box, flinging countless amount of undead into the air.
Soil and stone rained upon the mass of undead, causing further losses of undead infantry. We gaze upon what we caused, both of us spent in terms of arcane. 'It is not enough, the battle still favors them...' Jakan says angrily and looks like he wants to charge in.
'That is a suicide.' Say to him in serious tone. Jakan calms down and thinks.
'Now, we just have to fight hard... Fight your way through to the northern detachment, while I fight to the south. Kills as many as you can cause as much as chaos as possible, when you reach allies, tell them to begin pushing forward with all their might. Because this is it, either they or us, break first.' Jakan says clearly frustrated that it has come to this but, no other options.
We collide our swords and wish fortune to each other, we separated and begin skirmishing. After fighting a while, I reach Valerian infantry northern detachment. 'Push! Push! It is either us or them!' Shout as loud as possible. Their commander heard me, a moment of consideration flashes in his expression, it soon hardens into seriousness.
'Fight, fight, fight with all your might!' He roars and joins the battle. Northern detachment slowly, orderly, but, surely, began taking ground from the undead. I join the commander, who would have distrusted me but, here, in this moment, we are not enemies.
Soon, to the last skeleton, walking dead and fallen's end. The undead were slain, soldiers began collapsing from exhaustion. I hear horses running towards us, turning to look, it is Tyrelia's cavalry battalion, then I look opposite of me, spot Jakan on his knees and relying on his sword, looks more like he is just trying to catch his breath and relax. To my left, I see Lankensy at the center detachment, he also looks quite exhausted
.'Hail hero of the riven war... It is done...' Say with stamina that I still have as Tyrelia approaches us on her steed.
'By the light... How many have you slain?' Tyrelia says as she looks at the ground before the resting soldiers of northern detachment. I think a while...
'Twenty three...' Say still exhausted and look around, Seirialia has reached Lankensy, they embrace each other. Ground quaked a little as Fyregeld landed, he is completely fine, but, his expression tells of bewilderment.
'Fyregeld, we will need to screen for more undead that might head towards here. They need rest not another battle.' Tyrelia states looking at all of the Valerian soldiers who have taken part in this battle.
'I agree wholeheartedly lady Tyrelia. I would like to hear what happened here to have caused a battle of this scale.' Fyregeld says, still quite baffled by the amount of undead that has been slain.
After resting almost to the beginning of dusk. We begin moving back into the castle from the northern entrance. I join Jakan's company who is now feeling a lot better, still exhausted but, at least enough rested that we begin walking our steeds back into the castle. Seeing it better to not ruin the current atmosphere of victorious but, exhausted Valerian soldiers.
I have the intention on breaking the silence between Jakan and I but, then I heard somebody approaching us on a horse and some jogging. We turn to look, and they are Tyrelia, Lankensy and Seirialia. As Lankensy opened his mouth to say something, ground quaked a little and we were joined by Fyregeld.
'What are the reports of commanders Gonzil, Salgi and Tynzio?' Lankensy asks from Tyrelia.
'Only three out of twenty have suffered wounds, by the looks of your battalion, I estimate yours had it worse than them combined.' Tyrelia says in praising tone.
'We ended up having to fight two reserve formations of undead... Thanks to Jakan's plan... It probably would have ended up a whole lot worse.' Lankensy states in humble tone.
'Negative sir...' Jakan sighs out, unwilling to receive praise, not out of that it offends him. 'Real heroes of this battle are the soldiers marching behind us.' Jakan adds mildly worried he might have offended.
'True but, you do deserve some praise draconian... Thanks to your quick thinking, that probably would have turned out to be a victory as bad as defeat.' Lankensy says, mildly amused by Jakan behavior and smiles warmly.
'I would have charged into the center of the undead, if Volarie wouldn't have calmed me down...' Jakan replies keeping composure but, wanting to avoid praise. Curse you Jakan... Don't shove into the spot of light in a cave...
'I only told him, what I believed was on his mind, is a suicide.' Say the truth of the matter.
'Could you both, just stop avoiding our gratitude?' Tyrelia asks teasing us, probably figured out, why we are behaving in this manner.
'With all respect, lady Tyrelia... We are just trying to avoid taking too much praise. We fear that the soldiers wouldn't take it idly.' Jakan replies steadily.
'While I do understand reasoning, you shouldn't downplay your part in this, I believe the commanders would also make it clear to their men, that this was achieved with effort from everybody.' Fyregeld reasons, Jakan just exhales in begrudging manner, probably because what Fyregeld said, is true.
Even I can not find a way to weasel a way out from receiving gratitude from Valerians... 'Alright then...' Jakan replies in slightly defeated tone, declaring his intention to cease avoiding receiving gratitude.
'You are correct lord Fyregeld.' State in slightly defeated tone. Our intention is to maintain as high as possible morale among the Valerian soldiers, we can handle the influence of dark arcane in the air without issues, it is the effect on the soldiers we are most concerned about.
'How bad did it look? Lady Seirialia.' Jakan asks, it makes sense why he asked that. He only had the battle level awareness, while Seirialia had better awareness of the battle situation from the high ground.
'It looked quite bad, after your earth rupture, the battle still was in the favor of the undead, from my position, I could only do so little when I had cast spells that I could.' Seirialia replies smiles warmly, Jaka scoffs in tone telling of his discomfort, knowing that he was correct in his battle assessment in that moment.
'Can you explain the chain of events?' Fyregeld asks from me and Jakan. Jakan looked at me, asking that should we be truthful, I look at him in a manner saying yes. Jakan closes his eyes slowly and rolls his eyes. He explains what transpired in more detail. Tyrelia and Fyregeld listen carefully.
I am more eager to hear their angle on what happened...

It is the day, where military force of Valerie here, finally goes into offensive. Jakan and I travel along with one of the heroes of the riven war, Kyrem, who is leading the cavalry archer battalion we are to be his eyes and ears of enemy movement. As we ride our horses, I wondered the source of Jakan happiness.
This time, it is different, this must have something to do with Jakan and one of the five heroes of riven war, Lankensy. They pressed their upper arms perpendicularly against each other, they chuckled to each other, then separated to get to their duties. I chose to not ask as it isn't important but, doesn't stop my curiosity.
We have reached our deployment position, I look at Kyrem, he nods to us. Commence reconnaissance, Jakan and I separate from the cavalry archer battalion to scout in peace. It took us a while to actually find undead formations within the area, but, even Jakan let out a coughing sigh from the sight of the numbers we are seeing.
'Winter's roar... If there is even one more formation like that... The cavalry battalions have a tough time... Something I should have expected but, mostly considered unlikely...' Jakan states mildly alarmed by the number of undead in the rectangular formation.
'Fyregeld would need to take part very early... Which is most likely going to be disadvantageous later?' Ask for a confirmation of what I suspect Jakan is thinking.
'Yes... Fyregeld most certainly will be needed in the fight...' Jakan replies still mildly astounded how large the formation is. We move on to continue scouting, but, this is bad news, I guessing both of us are suspecting that this formation's purpose is to alarm the town that they are going to be attacked very soon.
Unfortunately for us, there is a second formation that is just as large as the first one more to the south of south west of the town, while this one is to the south west of it. 'Great, just, bloody fantastic... I will have some choice words for the Valerian scouts, these are probably twice or even thrice the number of undead compared to what they reported...' Jakan says upset about the situation.
'And, these two are part of the three we are supposed to lure into attacking the cavalry... The Valerians are most certainly going to have a bad day...' Reply quietly to try to ease Jakan's mood. It does work...
'Right, let's go look for the third... Hopefully it won't be as big as this and the previous...' Jakan states calmly, remembering that we aren't supposed to take part in the fight against these, but, reports are almost certainly going to be ugly.
Third formation, behind the first formation we scouted is still big but, probably by a third smaller, still a risky fight but, not unwinnable. Jakan told me that best way to beat this one with the forces nearby, would be, that cavalry archers would jog past it while firing arrows into the formation from the rear and front, as the formation is fairly tight and there aren't enough shields.
The undead casualties would be high, the cavalry archers would only stay as long as to bait the enemy to charge them, which leaves them open to be charged by the Valerian cavalry battalion, under the command of Tyrelia, one of the heroes of riven war. It's going to be a nasty melee but, one that would be the most effective on completely destroying this formation.
Follow up maneuvers would be that the cavalry archers, once they are being pursued, will regroup to attack the large south western formation, while once the cavalry battalion has routed or utterly destroyed this small formation will attack the rear of the southern undead formation, to goad them to pursue them.
Once the cavalry archer battalion has begun the fall back, the cavalry battalion will follow. From there, it is following the plan. The plan discussed yesterday still can be done but, it is going to be a lot more uglier in terms of results than expected. We scouted little bit longer to make sure there aren't other formations nearby.
There is fourth, which we suspect to be a reserve formation for the assault, it is about as big as the third. There is a mistake with it's location however, that is good news for the cavalry archer battalion. They are too far away to assist the large south western formation. Jakan sighed from mild relief. 'Well, at least some kind of good news... Although, once the pursuit is initiated, they most likely will join the battle.' Jakan says to me.
'I agree, thankfully we aren't supposed to give battle assistance in these fights... We would both be sore from the exhaustion later today, or worse, grievously wounded.' Reply to Jakan, he nodded in agreement. Jakan then motioned to me with his head that, this is enough, time to report to battalions. Nodding in agreement we head back.We arrive as Kyrem and Tyrelia are talking with the squadron commanders. 'What are your reports?' Kyrem hails us as we approach.
'Relatively far away from the best news, unfortunately but, there is some good too.' Jakan states calmly knowing that what we have seen, is going bring up mixed feelings. Jakan debriefs all on scene, on what we have discovered.
Kyrem displayed some worry but, when we told about the secondary reserve formation's positional mistake. He began to think about the situation more intensily. Tyrelia also looked worried, she and the battalion under her command, have a work cut out for them...
All squadron commanders deemed the plan still doable but, they all agreed on the fact that, this is going to be a seriously tough skirmish. Now, they need to be quick, Tyrelia gave Jakan a flag pole and a flag for the second part of this operation. 'Anything you would like to say before we begin?' One of the cavalry squadron commanders ask from us.
'For life, for the people, for Valerie.' Jakan states in hardened tone, we must begin and see our parts done in this operation.
'For life, for the people, for Valerie. I agree.' Tyrelia say with high spirit.
'Time to do our duty, all of you ready?' Kyrem asks from all of us.'Yes, sir.' Jakan and I reply without hesitation nor fear. We departed to head towards the north west of the castle. Behind us, pace of the hooves of more than hundred horses began to jog. We will not see them for a while now.
As soon as we arrived to the area we should scout out for any possible formations that might try to take positions north west or west of the castle where the supposed surprise pitched battle is to happen. We begin scouting, for a while, all the way to the past mid day, we do not find any undead formations, they must have combined formations for the assault on the town.
Unfortunately for them, it was done way too early... And now, there is a massive gap in the area control, gap which armed forces of Valerie are now beginning to exploit. We don't know whether the cavalry battalions have made good on their promises at the moment but, unfortunately for the infantry battalions the gap is going to be closed soon.
And there will be a battle that is a hard one for the one Lankensy is leading. These undead formations we are seeing, two of them, are about same size and number as the reserve formations to the south and south west of the town. We will need to improvise, one of those reserve size formations would have been bad enough. As we were heading back.
We see smoke, quite thick and seems to be from the direction where Fyregeld was to be signaled to ignite a forest, which undead infantry would use to try catch up with the formation moving cavalry. Unfortunately for us, we do not know how much damage this has caused and, we, Lankensy and his infantry battalion have a big endeavor ahead of us.
Jakan is still staring at the formations, probably staring at the distance between them. 'We can take them.' Jakan states calmly, which baffled me so much so that I let out an audible what. 'We can take them, We will be outnumbered three to one but, I have a plan.' Jakan adds and shakes his two handed sword slightly.
'I don't think it is enough.' Reply to Jakan in unsure tone as, such numerical advantage is enough for every attacking force to destroy a defending force.
'We will improvise, I will tell you once we reach sir Lanksensy.' Jakan states confidently.
'Okay...' I say slightly shakily, unsure whether it is warrior heart of Jakan making him act stupidly, or soldier's mind that whatever is the adversity, we handle it together... We head to where we agreed to meet Lanksensy and the infantry battalion he is leading in this battle.
Jakan prepared the flag and the flag pole, attaches the flag on the pole, then began to wave it, as the undead formations came into an open ground. Both of soon heard roar from the sky, we looked to the direction and see Fyregeld diving to harass the rear of the second formation of undead behind us.
We continue riding our steeds to the rally point. We reach it in good time, Lankensy was waiting for us with Seirialia. 'Bad news, we will receive undead formation that outnumbers us three to one.' Jakan states immediately before dismounting, I follow him.Lankensy at first seemed quite eager to fight but, such odds sobered his expression. 'We can take them, Fyregeld is already harrassing the formation behind the first one from the rear, so there will be chaos which buys us time.' Jakan says, Lankensy frowns while Seirialia looked grim.
'Tell me you have a plan.' Lankensy says, sounding surprisingly content and a smirk appeared on his lips.
'Yes sir. I will use the runes on my blade to create walls to hide the true number of our forces and act as a small choke point for the infantry to hold, you divide your battalion to three detachments. The center will hold the choke point with all they have, while southern and northern detachments make sure we won't get flanked around the stone walls.
When they begin their attempt to flank, the south and north detachments will begin fighting advance to box in our opponents. Seirialia, your arcane mastery is required, take a high ground and, rain hell on the enemy masses that engage the infantry detachments.' Jakan explains the plan.
Jakan draws his plan on to the dirt with his mace as he speaks. The terrain we are at, most certainly favors us... From that high ground, to the north east, is a perfect place to begin. Lankensy motions the infantry commanders to approach. He briefs them on the plan Jakan has proposed.
'Jakan, this is going to get ugly, but, with this plan... The glory will be quite gorgeous.' Lankensy states as the infantry commanders nod that they will follow this plan.
'This will be an ugly battle but, we will win it. Volarie, I need you to provide me more arcane, if the battle does get bad, with your assistance I will break the ground beneath our foes, so they have to fight from a disadvantageous position.' Jakan says without a hint of worry in his voice.
'Would it be better that I would provide you the assistance Jakan?' Seirialia asks alarmed by proposal from Jakan to me.
'No, we need your skill in magic to disrupt undead and to make sure that they have will have difficult time on concentrating their forces to put pressure on any of the three infantry detachments. Volarie already knows how to do it, and we have done this couple times before.' Jakan replies in calm tone.
I do remember, they were small in scale but, with right amount of concentration, we can do even bigger one. I am still worried though... Seirialia has the better mastery of arcane, I do not have as much skill or energy as her and Jakan's own capacity for arcane is rather limited. The plan is good though...
'Alright, I am ready.' Say finally without hesitation, although, I have some in my heart...
'I will hold the center, Volarie, move with the northern detachment to the position, Jakan you do the same, but with the south. Seirialia, I think you should get into position.' Lankensy says calmly.
'Yes sir.' Jakan and I say.
'Alright, I will trust your judgment.' Seirialia says to Jakan.
'Lady, I will get it done.' Jakan states with serious tone and ready to do everything in his power to win this battle. She nods to Jakan trusting him and I to do our part.
Jakan used the runes on his blade to create the walls, while I went into the position. We began to wait, waiting, the most nerve wrecking part of his plan... Soon, undead were sighted and they immediately rush to engage the choke point, slightly dispersing to begin also go around the stone walls. North infantry detachment began to jog to close the flanks, I go with them.
The plan is so far working, undead began engaging all three points without concentrating to break out through one. Now, we wait again, I listen to the battle raging before me, every now and then look around to see if we are getting flanked. Then I saw big chunks of ice raining into the center of the open left side box, infantry have formed. Second reserve force has now entered the battle.
They also charged right in, this is the moment where Jakan and I, head to the rear of the undead, and break the ground they stand in. As we had practiced, I place my hand on Jakan's left shoulder and begin channeling my arcane energy into him, just as he began to grasp the earth with his hands and began casting an earth rupture spell.
I allowed Jakan to take the lead and just follow him. Spell is complete, and Jakan made a two handed fist, then brought it down onto the dirt in front of him. Like water that got hit by massive weight on it's surface earth ruptured upwards at the center of the box, flinging countless amount of undead into the air.
Soil and stone rained upon the mass of undead, causing further losses of undead infantry. We gaze upon what we caused, both of us spent in terms of arcane. 'It is not enough, the battle still favors them...' Jakan says angrily and looks like he wants to charge in.
'That is a suicide.' Say to him in serious tone. Jakan calms down and thinks.
'Now, we just have to fight hard... Fight your way through to the northern detachment, while I fight to the south. Kills as many as you can cause as much as chaos as possible, when you reach allies, tell them to begin pushing forward with all their might. Because this is it, either they or us, break first.' Jakan says clearly frustrated that it has come to this but, no other options.
We collide our swords and wish fortune to each other, we separated and begin skirmishing. After fighting a while, I reach Valerian infantry northern detachment. 'Push! Push! It is either us or them!' Shout as loud as possible. Their commander heard me, a moment of consideration flashes in his expression, it soon hardens into seriousness.
'Fight, fight, fight with all your might!' He roars and joins the battle. Northern detachment slowly, orderly, but, surely, began taking ground from the undead. I join the commander, who would have distrusted me but, here, in this moment, we are not enemies.
Soon, to the last skeleton, walking dead and fallen's end. The undead were slain, soldiers began collapsing from exhaustion. I hear horses running towards us, turning to look, it is Tyrelia's cavalry battalion, then I look opposite of me, spot Jakan on his knees and relying on his sword, looks more like he is just trying to catch his breath and relax. To my left, I see Lankensy at the center detachment, he also looks quite exhausted
.'Hail hero of the riven war... It is done...' Say with stamina that I still have as Tyrelia approaches us on her steed.
'By the light... How many have you slain?' Tyrelia says as she looks at the ground before the resting soldiers of northern detachment. I think a while...
'Twenty three...' Say still exhausted and look around, Seirialia has reached Lankensy, they embrace each other. Ground quaked a little as Fyregeld landed, he is completely fine, but, his expression tells of bewilderment.
'Fyregeld, we will need to screen for more undead that might head towards here. They need rest not another battle.' Tyrelia states looking at all of the Valerian soldiers who have taken part in this battle.
'I agree wholeheartedly lady Tyrelia. I would like to hear what happened here to have caused a battle of this scale.' Fyregeld says, still quite baffled by the amount of undead that has been slain.
After resting almost to the beginning of dusk. We begin moving back into the castle from the northern entrance. I join Jakan's company who is now feeling a lot better, still exhausted but, at least enough rested that we begin walking our steeds back into the castle. Seeing it better to not ruin the current atmosphere of victorious but, exhausted Valerian soldiers.
I have the intention on breaking the silence between Jakan and I but, then I heard somebody approaching us on a horse and some jogging. We turn to look, and they are Tyrelia, Lankensy and Seirialia. As Lankensy opened his mouth to say something, ground quaked a little and we were joined by Fyregeld.
'What are the reports of commanders Gonzil, Salgi and Tynzio?' Lankensy asks from Tyrelia.
'Only three out of twenty have suffered wounds, by the looks of your battalion, I estimate yours had it worse than them combined.' Tyrelia says in praising tone.
'We ended up having to fight two reserve formations of undead... Thanks to Jakan's plan... It probably would have ended up a whole lot worse.' Lankensy states in humble tone.
'Negative sir...' Jakan sighs out, unwilling to receive praise, not out of that it offends him. 'Real heroes of this battle are the soldiers marching behind us.' Jakan adds mildly worried he might have offended.
'True but, you do deserve some praise draconian... Thanks to your quick thinking, that probably would have turned out to be a victory as bad as defeat.' Lankensy says, mildly amused by Jakan behavior and smiles warmly.
'I would have charged into the center of the undead, if Volarie wouldn't have calmed me down...' Jakan replies keeping composure but, wanting to avoid praise. Curse you Jakan... Don't shove into the spot of light in a cave...
'I only told him, what I believed was on his mind, is a suicide.' Say the truth of the matter.
'Could you both, just stop avoiding our gratitude?' Tyrelia asks teasing us, probably figured out, why we are behaving in this manner.
'With all respect, lady Tyrelia... We are just trying to avoid taking too much praise. We fear that the soldiers wouldn't take it idly.' Jakan replies steadily.
'While I do understand reasoning, you shouldn't downplay your part in this, I believe the commanders would also make it clear to their men, that this was achieved with effort from everybody.' Fyregeld reasons, Jakan just exhales in begrudging manner, probably because what Fyregeld said, is true.
Even I can not find a way to weasel a way out from receiving gratitude from Valerians... 'Alright then...' Jakan replies in slightly defeated tone, declaring his intention to cease avoiding receiving gratitude.
'You are correct lord Fyregeld.' State in slightly defeated tone. Our intention is to maintain as high as possible morale among the Valerian soldiers, we can handle the influence of dark arcane in the air without issues, it is the effect on the soldiers we are most concerned about.
'How bad did it look? Lady Seirialia.' Jakan asks, it makes sense why he asked that. He only had the battle level awareness, while Seirialia had better awareness of the battle situation from the high ground.
'It looked quite bad, after your earth rupture, the battle still was in the favor of the undead, from my position, I could only do so little when I had cast spells that I could.' Seirialia replies smiles warmly, Jaka scoffs in tone telling of his discomfort, knowing that he was correct in his battle assessment in that moment.
'Can you explain the chain of events?' Fyregeld asks from me and Jakan. Jakan looked at me, asking that should we be truthful, I look at him in a manner saying yes. Jakan closes his eyes slowly and rolls his eyes. He explains what transpired in more detail. Tyrelia and Fyregeld listen carefully.
I am more eager to hear their angle on what happened...

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I Declare a Challenge and A Big Job for You Guys.
I am trying to look for an IEM that fits my tastes and preferences. I'm confused between some models in different price brackets (I want to experiment).
Previously Used Devices: In 2017, I was using the Sony MDR-XB450 On the Ear Headphones and the Skullcandy Smokin Buds 2 In Ear Earphones. In 2020, during the COVID Pandemic, I bought the KZ ZS10 Pro for when I needed one for Music Production. Ik, that sounds stupid but that got me into the IEM world the first time and many reviews AT THAT TIME recommended these for the price it offered. At first, I didn't even like it, the treble was sharp for me at that time and lacked the bass structure that my Sony and skullcandy had (tho it is bloated when I got back to it). So, after many usages, I got used to it (Brain Burn-In). When I try to use other normal earphones, they sucked compared to the KZs I owned back then. In the year 2022, I bought the Moondrop Chu and the Moondrop Aria as they were recommended by many at the time. My Moondrop Aria later had an issue of Tonal Imbalance and wires not working sometimes then losing my Arias as days went by and couldn't find it. Later on, in 2023, I bought the Samsung Galaxy Buds 2 Pro and I fell in love with them. They are now my daily drivers as TWS is a convenience and it sounds better than what I have. But because it is Bluetooth, they are not the best quality compared to the wired ones and that's why I want an IEM now. Currently I still have the Samsung Galaxy Buds 2 Pro, Moondrop Chu and the KZ ZS10 Pro perfectly working with no problems. I want obviously something better than what I have and the best every price could offer. I live in India tho.
Music Taste: I'm a versatile and an all rounder listener that listens to any songs (Pop, HipHop, JPOP, Rock, Classics, Orchestra, Indie, Jazz ,EDM, Trap, Country). But the most I listen to are HipHop, Pop, JPOP, Orchestra, Indie, Rock, Trap, EDM. You already have an idea. I basically listen to everything depending upon my mood. So I want the tuning as an all rounder and not degrading one genre or the other.
Technical Expectations: I want the best resolution, soundstage, instrument separation, best timbre, imaging etc with the vocals and instruments being very clear as the blue sky and the bass with a powerful impact without any loss in the details and not overpowering that has the magic or a wow factor and also being natural while the mids being very clear and detailed with every instruments. I don't prefer something that is very sharp in the treble regions because I don't want it to be piercing (which means I prefer something more smooth but still having the best technicalities mentioned above) while not still being VERY boring. Ik these are unrealistic expectations, but I'm at least expecting the best the price can offer in each price bracket.
Ear Shape: I have relatively medium sized ears and I have no problems with either sizes unless most people have issues with a particular IEM.
EQ: EQ recommendation is fine too but let me know how to do it in the process. And also if the EQ improves the overall sound and other aspects compared to the competition, then it's fine too. But I mostly prefer out of the box tuning or with a different cable that's not expensive.
What I Did as Research: Saw many YouTube Reviewers Reviews on Different IEMs and their different Rankings The YouTube Reviewers are: Gizaudio, Jays Audio, Bad Guy Good Audio, Super Review, Crinacle, and Tone Deaf Monk
What I Found: I found and shortlisted some IEMs that were popular and was ranked high based on the price. Note that I'm just mentioning what I heard was good in their respective price brackets but I'm not going to mention the prices. Moondrop DUSK Thieaudio Hype 4 Pula PA02/Myer Audio CKLVX Binary x Gizaudio Chopin Simgot EA1000 Thieaudio Hype 2 Simgot EA500LM Truthear Hexa Simgot EW200 Truthear x Crinacle Zero: Red Artti T10
Price Expectations and Best IEM Recommendations for Every Price Categories: Anything Under $400/₹35000/€380/£320/RM2000/A$650. But that's the max I can afford and I want every recommendations for every price bracket. So here goes. Convert the currencies accordingly when researching in your respective countries. I'll be using American dollars as a reference. Reminder that I live in India. Under $100 Under $150 Under $200 Under $250 Under $300 Under $350 Under $400
Note: If something is for example priced at $280 (under $300 category) and another is $320 (under $350 category) that falls in different price categories, don't worry. Just provide the explanations for them and tell why they're worth a little more than the other recommendations. Provide detailed info on why they are good in each price bracket. Multiple recommendations in a price bracket is accepted but provide the details of every IEMs regarding the sound tuning and the technicalities, how they compare to the others and provide the diminishing returns. Questions are welcomed. Ik this is very long but I couldn't find anything else in other Reddit posts on which are best so I wanted recommendations based on my personal preference. May this post be a reference point for everyone who's seeking IEMs which is similar to my music tastes or seeking the best for every genre possible. Thank you for your time.

“Get the fuck out of my house with this ‘ old country’ shit Sylvia, I’m serious. “ I hear my dad say from the kitchen downstairs.
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.

“Get the fuck out of my house with this ‘ old country’ shit Sylvia, I’m serious. “ I hear my dad say from the kitchen downstairs.
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.

Title: The Power of "."
Hey Redditors,
It's time to take a moment and delve into the enigmatic power of the mighty dot, the humble full stop, the innocuous period. That minuscule yet potent punctuation mark we often overlook in our daily lives, dismissing it as the endpoint of a sentence or a signal of finality. But what if I told you that the unassuming "." has the potential to evoke emotions, captivate minds, and even change the trajectory of a conversation? Allow me to peel back the layers and explore the intriguing ways in which this small dot can leave an everlasting impact.
Let's dive in:

1. Suspense and Intrigue:
   
   • The dot can add suspense to a narrative - just think of those ellipsis ending in a dot, suggesting the untold or the unresolved. It hangs in the air, leaving the reader yearning for more…
   • A simple sentence with a dot instead of an exclamation point can convey a different tone. Imagine how "Congratulations" reads versus "Congratulations." The change is subtle but striking.
2. The Art of Silence:
   
   • In a fast-paced, loud world, the "." creates an opportunity for silence, allowing thoughts to hover, connections to be made, and the meaning to seep in. It prompts us to reflect, ruminate, and genuinely listen.
   • Leaving a comment with a lone period can command attention, symbolizing disagreement or disapproval without uttering a word.
3. Emphasis and Finality:
   
   • A single dot at the end of a sentence can add weight, assertiveness, and finality to our words. It transforms mere statements into declarations, reinforcing our convictions.
   • Imagine the difference between "You are amazing" and "You are amazing." The "dot" provides that punch of emphasis, elevating the message and resonating with the reader.
4. Unspoken Language:
   
   • A conversation often transcends words, and here's where the "." thrives. It can indicate sarcasm, irony, or an unspoken understanding between participants.
   • Utilizing the dot to imply something beyond surface-level comprehension adds depth to our interactions, fostering a sense of camaraderie.
5. Body Language in Text:
   
   • Just as non-verbal cues are crucial in face-to-face communication, the "." can mimic body language in textual conversations. It aids in controlling the rhythm of the dialogue, emphasizing pauses and allowing others to anticipate your response.

So, fellow Redditors, let us not underestimate the "." and its impact on our written interactions. It possesses a mysterious power—subtle and nuanced, yet undeniably present. By acknowledging its potential and making conscious use of this minuscule ally, we can enhance our communication skills, inspire curiosity, and even provoke intellectual debates about the effectiveness of this humble mark.
Now, it's over to you! What are your thoughts on this seemingly innocuous symbol? Have you witnessed or experienced any encounters where the "." carried weight beyond its appearance? Share your stories, theories, and discussions in the comments below, and let's unravel the hidden stories behind this little dot that packs a punch!
Keep the dots connecting, [Your Reddit Username]

Greetings esteemed students and scholars,
I hope this post finds you well. I have come to you to seek your expertise and insights as I navigate a critical decision in my academic journey. I am an incoming freshman presently faced with the dilemma of choosing between the University of Toronto's St. George campus (UofT/UTSG) and the University of British Columbia's Vancouver Campus (UBC/UBCV) for my undergraduate studies in computer science with the ultimate hard-set goal of pursuing a PhD in AI/ML at MIT.
With the admission acceptance dealine for both of my offers approaching in three days, I am faced with an impending sense of urgency to choose swiftly and correctly. Over the past month, I have been exhaustively scouring the internet and speaking to students from both UofT and UBC in order to effecitvely gauge the advantages and drawbacks of each program in hopes of minimizing the oppurtunity cost of choosing one over the other. Throughout this, I have been exposed to a variety of valuable insights and viewpoints, and have accordingly once again returned to reddit to combat the storm of uncertainty and indecision that clouds my judgement with the ilumination of knowledge and guidance from the benevolent community that has guided me in the past.
Seeing as both research experience and academic performance are arguably the two most vital aspects toward the success of a grad application to MIT, my decision will be heavily influenced by factors such as academic rigour and research opportunities, among other interrelated factors that will impact my prospects of admission. I have gathered the folowing key considerations and welcome your expert opinions:
UofT Pros:

• Rankings show UofT to carry more international prestige than UBC, including in STEM areas such as computer science. Rankings such as QS rank UofT T20 for computer science overall. This may give my a slight to moderate edge in the application process to MIT. (In fact, I was able to pinpoint at least 5 UofT graduates who went into MIT's EECS PhD compared to about 3 from UBC)
• UofT is generally regarded as a stronger research institution than UBC for areas of computer science such as AI/ML; in fact, UofT is a world leader in deep learning. Such a research enviornment may enhance my research capabillities and increase my chances of publishing papers to high AI/ML conferences, therethrough substantially elevating my prospects for MIT admission.
• UofT generally has more renowned/recognized professors in AI/ML (i.e. Geoffrey Hinton), thus, letters of recommendation from UofT would potentially carry more weight than those from UBC in the application process.

UofT Cons:

• UofT is known for its rigorous grading standards and exhaustive workload, which often lead to significant grade deflation among students, especially those in STEM areas. Given the vast majority of MIT EECS PhD applicants have cGPAs in the range of 3.9+, this can pose a major challenge toward meeting MIT's standards.
• Being more "theoretically heavy" compared to UBC, more students are likely to be research oriented as myself, effectively leading to a fiercely competitive environment, making it potentially more diffcult to land research opportunities/win professors' interest compared to UBC.
• Given I don't live in Toronto or Ontario for that matter, I will have no choice but to apply for residence, thus placing a financial strain on my family. However, this is the least of my concerns as 6 years in MIT's PhD program will total to costs of around 500,000 USD (combining tuition and living costs)

UBC Pros:

• While UBC may not be as internationally renowned as UofT, it is still a T50/T40 school with an excellent computer science program and AI/ML research. Many people I have spoken to are of the opinion that the difference in undergrad education quality and are negligible, as is the difference in my chances of getting into MIT from one institution over the other.
• While UBC is undoubtedly a rigorous school with significant grade deflation, the comapratively lower degree of delfation compared to UofT may work in my favour as I have a greater chance of maintaining a higher cGPA.
• Being less "theoetically heavy" than UofT Compsci, it is likely that most students will be focused on obtaining a job compared to entering research, therethrough potentially significantly reducing the competition toward research positions/winning professors' interest.
• I live in BC, and live a moderate distance away from UBC, therefore, I can save residence costs by commuting unlike the case for UofT.

UBC Cons:

• As mentioned earlier, the difference in prestige between UofT may be a greater factor in determining MIT admission than I originally anticipated.
• Likewise, it is possible that other students with identical goals for MIT may similarly deduce that UBC will be better in terms of lower deflation and lower competition, ultimately leading to the same degree of competitive intensity for research oppurtunities and high grades as these students unanimously decide to apply to UBC, not accounting for the fact that others would come to the same conclusion.
• While I toyed with the possibility of going to UBC for undergrad and doing research with UofT professors over the summer, the 4 month summer window may ultimately be inadequate for producing high quality, conference publish-worthy papers which may take months to over a year. In this case, it would be better to attend UofT as an undergrad to begin with.

In addition, I am highly interested in hearing your thoughts on other aspects that I haven't yet considered but should factor in to my decision-making process. I would also like to sincerely appologize for any assumptions or generalizations I have inadventently made about UofT and UBC in my post. It was never my intention to deliberately spread misinformation and if you are dissatisifed with anything I have said about either university, please do not hesitate to inform me so that I may change any such inaccuracies at the earliest.
TL;DR: I am seeking a comprehensive analysis of the pros and cons of attending UofT vs UBC for undergraduate studies in computer science if my aim is to maxamize my chances of admission to MIT or Stanford's AI/ML PhD programs.
I sincerely thank you for your time and thoughtful considerations and am 100% open to any recommendations and courses of action to undertake (I am presently self studying undergraduate computer science through recommended textbooks and would love to supplement my learning by any means in order to maximize my prospects of landing a research opportunity as early as possible). I would also like to wholeheartedly appologize for this rushed and potentially difficult to read post as I wasn't in the best condition composing this. Nevertheless, I am deeply indebted to you for your expertise and insights which will be invaluable in guiding me towards making an informed decision that aligns for my long-term academic career goals.
Kind regards,
Fellow prospective incoming undergrad
​
​

Part One.
My jaw clenches. It’s my turn to go pale with shock. Suddenly, the puzzle pieces begin to connect in my mind. They’re building a picture that I’m not sure I want to see, but it’s a picture that’s becoming difficult to deny. “Why?” I press. “What makes you so sure they weren’t just test subjects like the others?”
“These felt different,” Maria says quickly. “Horrible in a way that even the others couldn’t compare to. It’s like when you look at a manikin, or a doll… What’s the phrase?”
“Uncanny valley,” I offer.
“That’s it,” she says. “That’s what I felt looking at these things, the uncanny valley. It was like they didn’t have a soul– like they never had a soul. Some looked human. Nearly. But they were too tall, or their limbs were too long, or they had too many teeth in all the wrong places. But what scared me most of all wasn’t the bodies, it was the thought that something had killed those things. Something had torn literal nightmares to pieces, and there was a good chance it was coming to do the same thing to me and John.
“John,” I say, still trying to parse his significance in her ordeal. “That many bodies couldn’t have appeared overnight. They’d been there for a long time. That means he probably knew about them, didn’t he?”
She nods, gasping. “He knew. He fucking knew. He shoved me onto that pile of corpses, that festering and decaying pit of monsters and told me as much. He started shouting. Call me a monster all over again. Evil, he said. Twisted. He kept pointing at me like all of this was my fault, and he hadn’t both led us to our deaths.”
Her voice becomes a stuttering mess. “A-all the while I heard that thing in the dark. Approaching. I felt terrified, hopeless and numb. I kept asking John why me? Why go through all this trouble just to kill me? And he told me that he didn’t have a choice. He knelt next to me, put a hand on my cheek and whispered that his child needed to feed. It was getting hungry. Desperate. He almost looked fucking r-remorseful if you can believe it, and he told me that he was really sorry, and that he hated to do this but… He stepped away from me. Stood against the wall of the chamber. Watched. Waited.”
For a second, I’m afraid Maria is going to break into fresh sobs, but she pushes through.
“I didn’t know what to do,” she continues, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t have anywhere to run, anywhere to hide, so I just lay there in that heap of monsters. I gave up. The whole time, those footsteps got closer and closer. The nearer they came, the slower they got. It was like it knew I was trapped. Like it’d done this before, and knew there wasn’t a rush…” She looks up at me. “Do you think… John did that to other people too?”
“It’s certainly possible. Did you get a good look at the creature?”
She shudders. “Yes. I had my headlamp trained on the passage the whole time, and when it appeared around the corner, I almost missed it. I heard it, but I could barely see it. It was a tall, flickering shadow. It pulsed. Vibrated. The way it moved was jerky, haphazard, almost like it had one foot in our reality, like it was glitching with every step it took.”
“Glitching…” I mutter. Why does that sound familiar?
“That’s right,” she says. “And that wasn’t even the strangest thing about it.” She gets small in her chair. “It had these eyes. Amber ones. Bright and gleaming, like twin cinders smoldering in empty space. It felt like they were piercing me, like its eyes were digging through my skin and looking into my mind. Or my soul. It was like that thing was taking bites out of my memories, tasting them before spitting back out…”
“How did it feel? Painful?”
“No, she says. “It felt cold. Like a blizzard in my head, like all my thoughts had frozen to a crawl. Maybe that’s why I calmed down. I don’t know… I remember sitting there, totally numb as the Shadow phased through the metal bars of the gate. It almost looked human. It had two arms, two legs and a head, but its body was made of black static. Like television interference.”
Television interference… Where have I heard that description before? I rack my mind for a match, some kind of urban legend or ancient lore that matches what she’s saying, but nothing jumps out. I flip through the pages of my clipboard, stopping on one labeled ABERRATE EVENTS. It’s The Facility’s own Most Wanted List. My eyes fly through the cases listed, but there isn’t anything close to what she’s describing.
An idea strikes me.
“Did the Shadow hurt you at all?”
She looks down at her arm. There’s a large gash there, framed by clots of dried blood. “No… I don’t think so,” she says hesitantly. “I got these injuries when I was trying to escape.”
No, of course it didn’t. It had other food available already. “And what happened after it pierced you with its eyes?” I ask.
“It walked past me,” she says. “It walked through that mulch of corpses and headed straight for John. It started speaking along the way. At least, I think it did.”
“What do you mean by speaking?”
“Do you remember how I said it was howling before?”
“I do.”
“Well, this time it was hissing– like a livewire, or static electricity. Whatever it was communicating, John looked panicked. He was crying. Pleading with it. He kept saying that he’d done his best, but there was nothing else out there, so the Shadow would have to make due with me. But the Shadow didn’t seem to care. It grabbed John by his long hair, lifted him up to the ceiling and its cinderlight eyes started gleaming an angry orange.”
My heartbeat races. My pen flies across the clipboard, desperately trying to avoid missing a single detail.
Maria keeps talking. She keeps giving me more of what I need. “John kicked and screamed,” she says. “He begged me to help him, told me that if I didn’t I was every bit the monster he’d said I was and I’d be next… But before he could finish, the Shadow’s eyes flashed and leaked fire. John started shrieking, moaning as his face melted into his skull.”
Maria’s face twists with revulsion. Disgust. She looks away, back to the bunker. I wonder if she’s hearing what I am– that dim rumble of something moving underground, that slow march of an approaching nightmare. Our clock is ticking. It’s not something I can tell her though, because as soon as she starts panicking, I lose the chance to connect the dots I need.
“Maria,” I say, pulling her attention back. “Continue. It’s critical I get these details.”
“Sorry… It’s not a memory I like thinking of but… The Shadow held John there, his legs twitching weakly, and then it grabbed his head and tore it off his neck.” She brings a hand to her mouth, starts nervously biting her nails. “Then it lifted John’s skull to its amber eyes. It opened its mouth and screamed fire. The heat I felt was like an open furnace, like Hell itself. Tendrils of darkness emerged from the Shadow, clutching at John’s scorched skull and cracking it open like an egg.
"His brain spilled out. The Shadow caught it in those tendrils, and brought it into itself. His brain. Like it was fucking assimilating it… Or eating it. ” She looks up at me, and there’s the same angry defiance I saw when we met. “Now do you get it?” she asks. “Now do you see what I mean about this thing being the devil? What else could do something like that?”
A good question. I can think of one entity. Only one. If my guess is correct, then Maria and I get to live to see tomorrow’s sunrise. If it’s wrong, then I need to put a bullet in both our heads before that thing finds us.
All of it hinges on my next question.
“It killed John, then what? What did the Shadow do?”
“It turned back to me,” she says. “It glared at me with those blazing eyes, and I thought I was next. I knew I was. But then I felt another blizzard sweep across my mind, and that was it– I blacked out.”
“Hang on…” I mutter. “What do you mean you blacked out? I found you lying outside of the bunker. How did you escape?”
She shakes her head, frantic. “I don’t have a clue. I blacked out, then the next thing I remember was waking up outside the bunker, with you pouring water on my face and telling me we needed to talk. That’s it.”
She shoots up from her chair. “Christ! We need to leave.”
I blink. “Why?”
“The police. I’ve gotta tell them about John and what he was doing. I’ve gotta tell them about this base. Maybe John brought others here. More victims. Maybe some of them are still alive down there and need help. We need search parties and–”
“Don’t bother,” I say.
She looks at me, stunned.
“The police won’t have any record of John. Tell them where you were, what you saw in that bunker, and they’ll probably kill you.” I reach into my pocket, pull out my lighter and run a thumb down the sparkwheel. It flickers to life. “Fact is, John doesn’t exist. Neither does this base.”
I bring the lighter to the edge of my clipboard. The flame catches a page.
“What the hell are you doing?” Maria exclaims.
“Saving your life,” I say, tossing the clipboard to the floor. It pops and cracks as the fire eats the woman’s story, one word at a time.
“What the fuck? You said you believed me!”
“I still do,” I tell her. “That’s the problem. An hour ago, I had no idea what was going on here, but the more you spoke, the more it started making sense. I realized that you and John were more right than wrong. That there really is a conspiracy here. A cover-up.”
“Then the people deserve to know!”
“They do,” I confess. “And they will, eventually– but not from you, and not from my report. Neither is an option.”
She shakes her head, incredulous. “Then how?”
I walk to the window, rest my hands against the edge. I take a breath. It’s humid, heavy with South American heat. “I’ll figure something out. I always do.”
There’s a heartbeat of silence. Then, she asks the obvious question. “It’s your employer, isn’t it? This whole thing has something to do with The Facility.”
“Yes,” I tell her. “I think it does.”
She appears at my side. The two of us stare out across the dark of the base, out at the steel hatch rising from the dirt, where a devil made flesh is inching ever closer. “I thought you said your job was hunting monsters,” she says at length, “not creating them.”
“My job is a lot of things. More than anything else, it’s complicated. The Facility is… Well, it’s not what I’d call a good organization. Or even a moral one.”
“Then what is it?”
I consider the question. “A pragmatic answer to an otherwise ugly question.”
She looks at me expectantly.
“The question of salvation,” I explain. “The question of how do you rescue humanity from a nightmare so twisted that it defies all language? All concept of imagination? There’s something coming for us, Maria, something dark and unfathomable, and these entities– these monsters might be our only chance at fighting back.”
She’s quiet. Her expression is difficult to read.
“Decades ago, The Facility was a very different organization,” I tell her. “In those days, they thought the approaching nightmare was right around the corner, that we had weeks or months until it showed up on our doorstep. They didn’t know. Out of fear, they greenlit any and every possible solution. Or at least, that’s what the rumors say.”
“Rumors?”
I nod, darkly. “There’s no real records of The Facility’s activities during the Cold War. Most documents were destroyed. The few that remain are heavily redacted. I wasn’t around then, obviously, but I picked up bits and pieces from old timers I’ve worked with. They mentioned black projects. Hidden programs. One project was particularly infamous, so much so that even now, half a century later, The Facility hasn’t entirely snuffed out its legend.”
“What project?”
“Project Judas,” I say. “If you believe the rumors, it was headed by a brilliant biochemist named Screech. Jonathan Screech. The aim of the program was to create the ultimate weapon, a monster that could assimilate targets into its being, absorbing their capabilities. Such a function would provide it with a near limitless power ceiling. The problem was–”
Something hits my ears. Maria’s hand finds my arm, squeezing it painfully.
“Do you hear that?” she hisses.
Steel rattles in the distance. There’s a low groan of warping metal, like the rungs of a ladder slumping beneath the weight of something titanic. There’s something beneath us. It’s inside of that bunker, climbing that old ladder, and it’s making its way to the surface.
“We’ve gotta run!” Maria tugs at my arm, but I keep my feet planted where they are. My eyes narrow. I stare at the now trembling steel wheel, lit up beneath the light of the jungle moon.
Maria stumbles backward. A smile finds its way onto my face. In the distance, across the ruins of the base, the bunker’s hatch is thrown open. A dark shape emerges. It buzzes like television static, framed in shafts of moonlight. Its twin eyes glow like cinders. The shadow lurches, looking around, scanning the base and emitting a low electric hum.
“That’s it…” Maria whimpers. “Oh God… that’s it…”
The creature sees us. It sees me. It takes a shambling step forward, and dust and dirt flies into the air beneath its weight. Its eyes smolder, growing and growing until they become a blaze of fire. Maria is on the ground. She’s hiding beneath the window sill, reefing on the fabric of my pants and pleading with me to run, but I hardly notice she’s there.
This shadow– this monster, is why I’ve come here tonight.
Now, we finish things.
A wave of arctic air passes through my mind. It’s just as she described. My heart slams as I feel this Shadow rifle through my thoughts, chewing on my memories. I close my eyes. I breathe deep, inviting it in. Go ahead. Have your fill.
And then with one final shiver, the cold in my skull fades. That Shadow retreats, pulls back from my mind and when I open my eyes, I see it gazing back at me. The fire in its eyes dims to that cinderglow. It tilts its head skyward. Six black wings burst from its back in a shower of static.
“What’s happening?” Maria asks frantically, still on the ground beneath the window. “How are you going to kill it?”
“I’m not,” I tell her.
The Shadow belts out one last distorted howl before launching itself into the air like a streak of night. Three flaps of its wings, and it’s gone. Vanished into the sky, lost amongst the clouds.
Maria rises to her feet. Her eyes are wide. She’s shaking, her entire body is shaking with a tidal wave of horror. “Oh no…” she mutters, gazing at the sky. “It’s gone… So many are going to die…”
“Yes,” I tell her. “I hope so.”
She turns to me then, angry. Stunned. “You told me your job was stopping those things! Hunting them! What’s the deal, asshole? Why’d you just let it fly off?”
“Because I never finished my story.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me…”
“Project Judas had a directive,” I explain. “A very specific one. Its purpose was to assimilate hostile entities, to annihilate monsters and boogeymen, and ensure the survival of our species. Simply put, it was never made to hurt humans. After everything you’ve told me, I’m not convinced it can.”
She crosses her arms, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Were you even listening to what I said? I found a fucking graveyard down there. It burned John’s skull to a crisp, cracked it open, and ate his brains. I don’t care what it was designed for– I watched it kill a human right in front of me.”
“I’m not certain you did.” I lift up my briefcase, paying my now ashen clipboard one final, farewell glance. “From everything you described, I question whether John was a man at all by the time he took you down to that bunker. If he really was Johnathan Screech, and I think the evidence points to yes, then it’s said he conducted more than a few experiments on himself along the way. The glowing eyes? I’ve never met a human with a set of those.”
“But–”
“Fact is, John brought you here to kill you. John told you that he needed to feed you to his child, that he didn’t have a choice…” My thoughts turn to all the strange disappearances that lead me here. The missing entities. The absentee urban legends. “He was feeding Judas a steady supply of horrors, just enough to keep it from entering hibernation– right up until the moment he ran out. That’s why he pulled you down there. He thought you’d be an easy mark, that maybe with a little creative twisting of the narrative, he could convince Judas that you were close enough to food.
"Remember how he kept calling you a monster? Unfortunately for John, he misunderstood his own creation. Project Judas wasn’t designed to harm human beings. It went against its core directive. So in that moment, when John offered you as a sacrifice, a flip switched in Judas that made it realize John had crossed the threshold and become a monster himself.”
She’s quiet as we walk out the door. “You think he really was that Johnathan Screech guy?”
I shrug. “Maybe. I doubt there are dental records to double check, but based on what you’ve said tonight, it wouldn’t surprise me if Screech couldn’t let his project die. A creature like Judas… The Facility probably didn’t have a means of terminating it, so they buried it instead. Sealed it behind blast doors a kilometer beneath the earth. Then they erased all records of this base ever existing.” My SUV is gleaming black, impossible to miss against the ruinous backdrop of ancient humvees. I crack the passenger door. “Need a ride?”
She smiles. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile all night, and I can’t help but smile back. “Thank you,” she says. “For not killing me.”
“Don’t mention it.”
She clambers into the seat, and just as I’m about to close the door, she stops me. “Wait,” she says quickly. “I forgot earlier, but John mentioned another entrance. One used for freight… That’s probably how he got back into the bunker after they sealed it up. He seemed to know everything about that place.”
“Yeah,” I tell her. “I figure he must have.”
I close the door and circle to the driver's side.
“So what do we do now,” she asks as I hop in. “About that thing, Project Judas?”
"Nothing," I say, plugging the key into the ignition and giving it a twist. The engine rumbles to life. “As far as I’m concerned, that creature isn’t a monster. And that means it’s not my problem.”
The vehicle rattles as we pull out of the base and onto the jungle road. Maria twists in her seat. She looks back through the rear window as her worst memory falls further and further behind us. “If it isn’t a monster, then what it is it?” she asks.
Words drift around my head. Definitions. I’m trying to figure out how to explain what it is that she and I saw, what it is that more people will see in the coming weeks. I’m trying to think of a way to tell Maria that whatever that thing was, she doesn’t need to be afraid of it. None of us do.
I open my mouth to reply, but I’m interrupted by a microphone howl. It’s distant. Far away. I crane my head and look up through the scatter of vines passing above us. And then I see it. A dark speck on the horizon. It’s little more than a dot against the moonstreaked clouds, but I know that if it were closer, I’d see a creature with six wings. I’d see a shadow with cinderlight eyes. A body of black static.
I’d see a guardian angel– one with plenty of work to do.

RANT: TW: Eating disorder, mental health, me lol I hate myself currently, i always feel so gross and like slow? if that makes sense. I want to be my 2021 weight again, so i'm restarting my weight loss journey haha. But i also have acne and bleh grossness i'm disgusting lmao. What are some foods, or natural stuff that you guys love?? Info: I struggle with eating disorders, and my mental health sucks haha. I'm trying to lose weight healthy this time even though it's harder than just starving. I just got over a bad patch where i was only eating ice and chewing gum. lost 4lbs which isn't a lot for me. I just wanna go back to my 2021 weight. i wanna feel skinny. i wanna be pretty haha. i wish i looked different but i can't change that i guess. I just need to be pretty so i can be happy haha. I hate food. i hate this year. let's just pray i don't have hair loss and thoughts of death this time. like i just need to be skinny for my sport is that so hard to ask? like cmon my horse probably hates that my fat ass is on his back all the time.
sorry for ranting my brain wants to go on but i feel bad for ranting hahaha peace out ✌️

Hi all,
I’ve been drawing up plans for my first proper stereo system, and I settled on a budget of about 5K (USD), with a rough split of 3000-3500 for a pair of floorstanders, 1000-1500 for an analogue/integrated amp (I already have a DAC), and I wasn’t particularly trusting of online reviews and advice that kept praising all speakers without reservations, so I decided to visit an audio shop near me for their advice.
This will be a rather long post (for dubiously alright reasons) so there is a TL;DR blurb at the end for what I want advice on.
Unfortunately, that first shop left me with a rather bitter taste. The employee there kept insisting that I’d be happier if I dropped 7.5K or even 10K on the system, and I realised that there was a reasonable amount of nonsense in their advice when they told me a 10K system should be split as 4K on speakers, 4K on electronics, and a full 2K on cabling. No. Just no. My electrical engineering professors would eviscerate me if I ever spent 2K on just cables. So they effectively told me to raise my budget, buy 2K in cabling, and then they can maybe set up a demo session. One that required a hefty deposit as well, only refunded to me if I bought enough kit from them within three months.
So they left me with enough of a sour taste that I looked up and went to a different shop nearby in hopes that maybe they wouldn’t grease me up like the previous bloke and maybe we could stay within that 5K range. They were absolutely brilliant in that respect. I told them (perhaps foolishly) that I could maybe stretch my budget a little but they were very frank in assuring me that we could get very good sound already for 5K and it’s better to start there because this will be my first system. Already leaps and bounds better.
So within a 10-minute chat about what I tend to listen to, what space I am planning, what I like in my past experience with good floorstanders, they let me demo their Sonus Faber Lumina III and Lumina Vs with a Cambridge CXA81 amp, for close to two hours straight. And free of charge! Marvellous!
The Lumina IIIs sounded fantastic already, and then I heard the Lumina Vs that had the vastly better mid-to-bass extension and I was very tempted to carry those speakers home right away. I threw everything I could at it in my catalogue of classical music, from solo piano to orchestral to opera to symphony+chorus to pipe organs and the Lumina Vs seemed to handle everything beautifully. Likely the best speakers I have ever heard. The only reason that I didn’t buy them and the Cambridge amp on the spot is because the chaps there wanted me to come back the next week (it was closing time for them) to try out the Lumina V Amator, and also other amps to compare with the CXA81.
So I am very happy with this shop and their treatment of my budget and their assistance in demoing the speakers on the spot, but there’s an element of worry creeping in on me regarding this purchase. Or at least, a few points of concern.
First is that… I don’t know whether my reaction to the Luminas (III and V) is a proper reaction to their quality, or if it is enhanced by the sense of relief that is listening to proper floorstanders after quite some time. So if it is enhanced, then are the Luminas actually worth that price of 3K?
Second is that I am not sure what the actual aural difference is between the Lumina V and their new Amator version. I know the crossover was adjusted but I don’t know the degree to which that affects the sound, and whether it is worth the 500 increase.
Third is that I don’t know what alternatives there would be for this range of speakers. Before this, I was mostly looking at the 1500-per-pair range of speakers, because I didn’t really imagine getting anything too good, but now I am properly hooked on the Luminas and need you all to pull me down from the hype.
TL;DR: Please advise me on the actual value of the Sonus Faber Lumina V, whether there is any benefit in jumping from those and the Amator version, which amps pair well with the Lumina V in addition to the CXA81, and any recommended alternatives for this system in a 5K total budget.

In 2021, Deepmind published Improving language models by retrieving from trillions of tokens and introduced a Retrieval-Enhanced Transformer (RETRO). Whereas RAG clasically involves supplementing input tokens at inference time by injecting relevant documents into context, RETRO can access related embeddings from an external database during both training and inference. The goal was to decouple reasoning and knowledge: by allowing as-needed lookup, the model can be freed from having to memorize all facts within its weights and instead reallocate energy toward more impactful computations. The results were pretty spectacular: RETRO achieved GPT-3-comparable performance with 25x fewer parameters, and is theoretically without knowledge cutoffs (just add new information to the retrieval DB!).
And yet: today, AFAICT, most major models don't incorporate RETRO. LLaMA and Mistral certainly don't, and I don't get the sense that GPT or Claude do either (the only possible exception is Gemini, based on the fact that much of the RETRO team is now part of the Gemini team and that it is both faster and more real-timey in my experience). Moreover, despite that RAG has been hot and that one might argue MoE enables it, explicitly decoupling reasoning and knowledge has been relatively quiet as a research vector.
Does anyone have a confident explanation of why this is so? I feel like RETRO's this great efficient frontier advancement sitting in plain sight just waiting for widespread adoption, but maybe I'm missing something obvious.

Nestled within the dynamic landscape of Sector 103, Gurgaon, Whiteland Urban Resort Sector 103 Gurgaon emerges as the epitome of opulent residential living. Developed by the esteemed Whiteland Group, this prestigious project seamlessly integrates the comforts of home with the extravagance of a holiday retreat, setting a new standard for luxury living in the region.
Offering an exclusive selection of meticulously crafted 3 BHK, 4 BHK Premium residences, and penthouses, Whiteland Urban Resort Sector 103 Gurgaon presents residents with a sanctuary of sophistication and comfort. Each residence is adorned with high-end luxury specifications, ensuring an unparalleled living experience that exceeds expectations.
A hallmark feature of this distinguished project is the implementation of the MIVAN FORMWORK SYSTEM during construction, guaranteeing impeccable finishing and accelerating the construction timeline. Additionally, the provision of a dedicated car parking space for each apartment alleviates parking concerns, further enhancing the convenience and comfort of residents.
Comprising four majestic towers, Whiteland Urban Resort Sector 103 Gurgaon offers captivating views from most apartments, complemented by expansive deck balconies and lofty ceilings that evoke a sense of grandeur. Its strategic location at the entry and exit loop of the Dwarka Expressway not only ensures seamless connectivity but also positions it as a prime investment opportunity.
Beyond its luxurious residences, Whiteland Urban Resort Sector 103 Gurgaon boasts an impressive array of amenities tailored to cater to the discerning tastes of its residents. From a rejuvenating swimming pool and cutting-edge gymnasium to an expansive banquet space and state-of-the-art security measures, every aspect of urban luxury living is meticulously curated.
Moreover, the project features an electric vehicle charging station, underscoring its commitment to sustainability and environmental responsibility. Children can delight in the dedicated play area, while residents can unwind in the double-height air-conditioned designer lobby, which serves as a welcoming haven for both residents and guests alike.
In addition to its unparalleled amenities, Whiteland Urban Resort Sector 103 Gurgaon enjoys proximity to essential facilities such as hospitals, schools, and major transportation arteries. Renowned educational institutions like D.P.S. and G.D. Goenka are conveniently located nearby, ensuring residents have access to quality education for their children.
Sector 103 is poised as a sought-after destination for both commercial and residential developments, with significant upcoming projects set to further enhance its allure. The proximity to the India International Convention & Expo Centre, Diplomatic Enclave, International Sports Complex, and Delhi's largest Transportation Hub highlights the immense investment potential of Whiteland Urban Resort Sector 103 Gurgaon.
Other projects:
Central Park 104 Sector 104 Gurgaon, is a prestigious residential enclave distinguished by its opulent amenities and tranquil surroundings. Set amidst lush greenery, this meticulously crafted development offers a serene escape from the urban hustle. With contemporary architectural designs, expansive living spaces, and top-tier facilities, Central Park 104 promises residents a lifestyle of unparalleled luxury and ease. From meticulously landscaped gardens to thoughtfully curated recreational spaces, every detail is tailored to elevate the resident experience. Enjoying seamless connectivity to major transportation routes and close proximity to essential amenities, Central Park 104 stands as a beacon of refined living in Gurgaon's real estate landscape.
The Omaxe State Dwarka in Sector 19B Delhi, is an esteemed residential development offering modern living spaces in the heart of the city. Boasting contemporary architecture and thoughtful design, this project provides residents with a harmonious blend of comfort, convenience, and style. Situated in a prime location, The Omaxe State Dwarka offers easy access to essential amenities, educational institutions, and recreational facilities. With spacious apartments, lush green surroundings, and state-of-the-art amenities, residents can enjoy a peaceful retreat from the hustle and bustle of urban life. Whether it's unwinding in the landscaped gardens or indulging in the recreational facilities, The Omaxe State Dwarka offers a lifestyle of unparalleled luxury and convenience in Delhi's real estate landscape.
DLF Privana West in Gurgaon is a prestigious residential development offering luxurious living spaces amidst serene surroundings. Located in a prime area, this project by DLF Limited boasts modern architecture and world-class amenities. Residents can enjoy a tranquil environment with ample green spaces, landscaped gardens, and well-designed recreational areas. With its strategic location, premium facilities, and exquisite design, DLF Privana West epitomizes luxury living in Gurgaon.

Lifetime - Staked: 865.9u, Profit/Loss: +28.08u, ROI: 3.24%, Parlay Suggestions: 164-63 Dog of the Week: 13-14
2024 - Staked: 218.8u, Profit/Loss: -5.28, ROI: -2.41%
As always, scroll down for UFC 301 Breakdowns. The following is just a recap of last event’s results.
UFC Vegas 91 (PREVIOUS CARD)
Staked: 8.5u
Profit/Loss: -0.29u
Parlay Suggestions: 2-3
Definitely not my best work there, but a testament to why hedging is an important tool to utilise when possible because it bailed me out of some bad bets. Thanks to those early moves, I managed to reduce my losses a lot more, so I’m happy with the overall results despite actually getting most of my bets wrong here. Onama’s ability to hit that reversal from back control was ridiculous, and if Pearce addressed that I think he would have been just fine. Guskov was a nice hit. Nicolau getting flatlined was not.
❌ 2u Matheus Nicolau to Win at -170
✅ 1u Bogdan Guskov to Win at +175 (won +1.75u)
❌ 1u Jonathan Pearce to Win at -140
❌ 1u Jonathan Pearce to Win & Over 1.5 Rounds at +150
❌ 1u Maheshate to Win by KO/TKO at +150
✅ 2u Liang/Petrovic FDGTD & Means/Medic FDGTD at -105 (won +1.9u)
❌ 0.25u Na Liang to Win in Round 1 at +1200
❌ 0.25u Parlay Pieces at +633
✅ Mayes/Machado Arb (won +0.63u)
✅ Silva/Lipski Arb (won +0.93u)
​
UFC 301
We really were spoiled by UFC 299 and UFC 300, because this PPV looks anaemic in comparison. I guess it’s mainly because those events used up some of Brazil’s biggest names (Pereira, Figgy, Moicano, Andrade, Jailton, Marina, Lopes, Burns), and these kinds of cards are always Brazil vs the World (my favourite kind of style of card). I’m still looking forward to it compared to the typical Apex garbage though=, so no complaints from me!
It didn’t take long to realise that this card has been curated to be very Brazilian friendly. I am absolutely not one of these conspiracy theorists who thinks the UFC is rigged, but I think it’s very important when betting to ask yourself WHY this fight was booked (especially for PPVs). The UFC’s business model runs off creating stars and generating hype (the existence of DWCS proves this), so these kind of cards are the perfect opportunity to do that. The matchmakers are literally paid to make decisions on who fights who, so none of this stuff is accidental. If you’re familiar with my history as an MMA Trader, you’ll know that thinking about public perception is where my skills lie, so I’m always excited for PPVs because there’s extra narrative in a lot of the fights.
Let’s get into it!
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Alexandre Pantoja v Steve Erceg
This is a very weird main event. The Flyweight division is starting to fade again, as its top 15 is littered with fighters who have either shown their ceiling is below championship quality, or guys who aren’t active enough to be given title shots. Erceg has managed to bag himself a title shot from 11th in the rankings, despite having only three fights in the company. Aside from fighters coming into the organisation with a strong reputation in combat sports, or women’s divisions, I can’t think of a fighter who has made their way to a title shot quicker than Erceg has in recent years.
Historically, I bet on Pantoja against most opponents because I’ve always been convinced he’s been championship calibre, and has multiple paths to victory every time. I have tried to fade Erceg mostly due to the rapid stepping up in competition, but I also bet him against Costa.
I know there’s a bit of a theme with me being non-committal towards betting on title fights (except Pereira last event, hehe), but I think this is probably an acceptable fight to shrug my shoulders at – purely because of the unknowns regarding Erceg. I don’t really think you can look at his performance against Alessandro Costa or David Dvorak and come away with any conclusion regarding his chances against Pantoja. I guess you could take something from the opening five minutes against Schnell…but that’s still not a great comparison because Schnell’s biggest weakness is still Pantoja’s biggest strength (chin/durability)?
On the flipside, what we do know about Erceg is that some of his best strengths are actually in the areas that Pantoja looks to exploit. The Brazilian is one of the most durable fighters in MMA history, having never been finished in 32 professional bouts – 14 of which took place in the UFC. He weaponizes that by pushing a pace and creating chaos that he knows he can be the more durable fighter in. Aside from that, he’s also got an elite submission game, and his grappling is top notch. His striking certainly isn’t bad either.
But, as I said, that doesn’t sound as much of a nightmare for Erceg as it does for a lot of other guys. Steve’s done most of his work in the UFC on the feet, where he has shown some very impressive durability (and on the regional scene). People also therefore forget that he’s primarily a grappler also, having six submissions on his record. Of course I expect him to be inferior to Pantoja in both areas, but I don’t see him getting steamrolled like Perez, Royval (1) or Schnell did.
So whilst there are still a hell of a lot of unknowns about Erceg, what we do know is enough to predict that this is unlikely to be Pantoja’s most dominant win. If the Brazilian can’t get finishes against an opponent, he has to rely on his minute winning ability. Whilst those are still very good skills (and enough to get the better of Brandon Moreno!), it’s definitely the way he can be exploited the most (a 9-5 record in fights that go the distance, to quantify that belief).
So in short, despite not having much confidence in my line here, I have to grade Pantoja as less of a favourite than the books currently do, but a favourite nonetheless. Erceg’s ceiling is still unknown, but logic would dictate that this is too much too soon. It’s therefore no bet from me on the moneyline, but my belief in Erceg’s durability will obviously lead me to consider the overs in this fight. Not too sure what I expect to see here but if the FGTD is plus money then I’ll probably get involved somehow. Keep an eye on the bet list at the bottom of the post to see what/if I bet.
How I line this fight: Alexandre Pantoja -188 (65%), Steve Erceg +188 (35%)
Bet or pass: I may look at the overs, but the ML is a pass
Prop leans: None
​
Jonathan Martinez v Jose Aldo
Second fight, second non-committal stance, I’m afraid. I know this one is around a pick’em, and I know it’s super interesting…but do any of you train with Jose Aldo or know him personally? If not, I don’t think any of us have even the slightest clue how he’s going to look in the cage after almost two years on the sidelines. Yes, he’s been boxing, which gives some positive signs that he’s still keeping in some sort of shape – but he drew with Jeremy Stephens and beat two guys with combined pro records of 0-9-1. Hardly enough to believe he’ll be as sharp as when he was an active UFC fighter.
Jonathan Martinez on the other hand is eight years younger than Jose Aldo, and in his athletic/career prime. He’s currently riding a six-fight winning streak that includes wins over Said Nurmagomedov and Adrian Yanez. He’s a very well-rounded fighter that uses leg kicks to great effect, as is typical from a Factory X homegrown talent. He’s also been criminally underrated in these last few years after the shock loss to Davey Grant. Dude was -105 against Zviad Lazishvili (who even is that?), and both of the aforementioned wins.
Unfortunately for Martinez, Aldo is not going to lose out to the leg kicking game, instead he may be the one landing the significant leg strikes there. That kind of takes away one of Martinez’s most reliable weapons, which makes this one even more interesting.
Other than that, I genuinely don’t know what more to say. Logic and history tells us that the younger and more conditioned Martinez should win here, but if Aldo manages to find a special Brazilian doctor of some sort, or if he just ends up being fortunate that father time is generous to him, then the Jose Aldo we know and love should confidently beat Jonathan Martinez.
Who wins this fight? I have no idea. Neither do you. That’s why it’s a pick’em. Don’t think about it anymore than that. Just pass and enjoy watching the questions get answered inside the cage.
How I line this fight: No idea.
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Paul Craig v Caio Borralho
Hell yeah, I love it when we get fights like this. Guys I rate very highly and always look to bet, vs guys I think are massively overrated and always look to fade. In case it wasn’t obvious, Craig is the fade and Borralho is the prospect.
I have a lot of love and respect for Paul Craig. He’s long been one of the most successful and inspiring UK fighters – and his fights at various UFC Londons have often been the highlight of the entire events. Also, the man has an exquisite music taste - his walkout song choices always result in me finding new bands and albums to listen to. Thanks for that Paul!
But in terms of in-cage ability…he’s as one dimensional as it gets. His style is pretty much identical to Royce Gracie in the earliest UFC days. He has an elite submission game, but everything else in his skillset is hugely inferior, which will always limit him. Statistically, I rate all of his skills at a 3, but his pure submission game as a 9.
It’s been really fun to see the UFC booking Craig in fights that allow him to show his best work (as opposed to the Volkan Oezdemir fight, which was painful to watch), but MMA is much more complex than sheer submission ability. Against Muniz he was victorious because he was actually the superior striker, and also had the superior cardio that night…but the fight against Brendan Allen showed those limitations again. Going back to those aforementioned skillset rankings, Craig was inferior in every area of MMA, but he was matched or even trumped by Allen’s BJJ too. In short, I knew that Craig had no consistent way of winning that fight, and needed a high variance Hail Mary. I bet Allen quite confidently there.
And that conclusion is the exact same one I come to here. Caio Borralho is actually a severely underrated wrestler, and that is what makes him so great. I have no doubt that his wrestling is superior to Craig’s, which will result in more top control time for the Brazilian. Of course, Caio is an elite BJJ fighter himself, so like Allen and Muniz before him, I’m not worried about Craig’s offence from guard.
So the only other ways I see Craig winning this fight are the same as the Muniz fight, via superior striking or cardio. Right off the bat, I don’t think Craig’s a better striker than Caio (though it’s competitive enough), and the aforementioned wrestling success should stop that from being the story of the fight if Caio approaches the fight intelligently…but the cardio dynamic could be one to be wary of. I personally think the complaints about Caio’s cardio are vastly overdone – he’s won the third round on 11 of the 12 scorecards that has been submitted in his UFC career (if we ignore the point deduction against Omargadzhiev).
Therefore, that leads me to conclude that I think this is a well-booked fight by the UFC, who want to bolster the record and popularity of one of their most interesting Brazilian prospects and get a big win for the home crowd. Craig will give Caio the fight he wants, and he will likely lose in doing so. Caio should win this fight at least 80% of the time, I think…which gives me about 6-7% of value on the -275 price tag I pounced on. As expected, that’s long gone now. That’s a 5u bet for me.
How I line this fight: Paul Craig +400 (20%), Caio Borralho -400 (80%)
Bet or pass: 5u Caio Borralho to Win (-275)
Prop leans: Caio could win this fight in any of the three ways tbh.
​
Anthony Smith v Vitor Petrino
The UFC reward Anthony Smith for his years of warrior spirit, company-first mentality, and his contributions on the UFC analyst bench…with a fight against one of the LHW division’s scariest upcoming prospects. How generous of them. Nonetheless, Smith is still talking crazy in interviews saying he’s close to a title shot with a win here, lol.
Vitor Petrino had one of those questionable records coming into the UFC. People have tried to fade him with Anton Turkalj, Marcin Prachnio, Modestas Bukauskas, and most recently Tyson Pedro. I understood the Modestas one, but the others were ridiculous. I bet Petrino at -250 against Pedro, and I think he definitely justified the price tag there.
Petrino is just so physically imposing. Whether he’s using his wrestling or striking, it just always feels like his opponents are tentative that Petrino’s about to do something explosive and dangerous. It’s been quite impressive seeing him show off his wrestling ability, as most believed him to be a pure striker that would struggle on the ground.
Anthony Smith is a very interesting litmus test for any aspiring top 15’er though, because despite the fact that Smith is very shopworn and clearly a bit mentally muddled (the “you attacked my family” thing against Walker was terrifying and really should not have been glossed over IMO), he is still a very well-rounded martial artist that is respectably skilled everywhere. He can be outgrappled by a safe guard-chilling gameplan, or just by generally being a more powerful striker though, as seen in his multitude of losses in recent years to the likes of Rountree, Walker, Ankalaev, Rakic, and Teixeira.
Those are two routes that Petrino can take, because we’ve already seen him follow those paths on multiple occasions. Whilst that’s clearly enough to deem him the favourite against a clearly declining Smith, this is enough of a step up in competition that I’m not convinced enough by Petrino to get on board with the idea of him being -400. Yes he probably goes and starches Lionheart, but if the finish doesn’t present itself easily then I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see this one turn more competitive than that line indicates. Therefore, -200 to -250 sounds like an appropriate price to me, so it’s no bet.
How I line this fight: Anthony Smith +250 (29%), Vitor Petrino -250 (71%)
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Michel Pereira v Ihor Potieria
This is a pretty simple one to break down. Doesn’t surprise me that it kicks off the main card. This fight makes absolutely no sense from a ranking perspective, but it makes all the sense in the world from a narrative and promotional perspective.
Michel Pereira is one of the hardest non-Heavyweight hitters in the UFC. Ihor Potieria is a bang average fighter that is basically being used as a litmus test for a lot of unproven prospects. He’s a very beatable fighter and the perfect sacrificial lamb to get you an easy UFC win on your record. He was originally scheduled to face Shara Bullet Magomedov, who is definitely flavour of the month. Hell, they even tried to use him as a softball for 40 year old Shogun Rua last year!
Potieria’s recent upset win over Robert Bryczek does demonstrate that he’s got SOME life in him though, but there’s a massive difference between Bryczek and Michel Pereira. Potieria isn’t overly interested in shooting for takedowns either, making this even more of a nightmare fight for him.
Another highlight reel KO for Michel Pereira is expected, and I’d be quite surprised if he didn’t get it here. Therefore, I fully expect that prop to be priced at something around the -150 mark, maybe even steeper.
Took some time for the line to come out but -400 sounds about right in my eyes. I decided to combine Pereira with Mateusz Rebecki on next week’s card. -140 for the double.
How I line this fight: Michel Pereira -450 (82%), Ihor Potieria +450 (18%)
Bet or pass: Potentially on the KO, price dependant
Prop leans: See above
​
Joaquim Silva v Drakkar Klose
This was the first bet I made on this card, and I placed it a couple of weeks ago when the line was much closer. I bet Drakkar Klose at -137.
I bet against Drakkar Klose when he faced Joe Solecki last time, and I’m still frustrated by how unlikely that finish was. Klose was definitely looking the inferior fighter there, but a moment of brilliance can be all it takes sometimes.
This one seems pretty cut and dry to me. Klose is a well-rounded fighter whose biggest issue had typically been his lack of finishing ability, but he’s still a very reliable fighter that will work hard for 15 minutes. He’s been in competitive fights with the likes of Beneil Dariush, Marc Diakiese, and Bobby Green in his time, and these bouts have spanned across all different realms of MMA. He’s never really done anything that will blow your hair back (aside from being on the receiving end of that amazing KO by Dariush, and the recent slam of Solecki), but I think that makes him a bit underrated. He’s 36 years old now, but he’s never been the fastest fighter, nor has he had a long and gruesome career.
Joaquim Silva has a similar level of experience, but his UFC record paints a different picture by comparison. The calibre of fighters he has lost two really does vary, but a decision loss to Vinc Pichel, as well as being finished by Ricky Glenn and Nasrat Haqparast, doesn’t really fill someone with confidence.
Silva’s most recent win came against 41-year-old Clay Guida, where he clearly lost a round and honestly could have lost the fight with a couple of adjustments. That fight was a terrible look for the -320 favourite, and to me that was a clear indication that he seems to be on the decline. Klose, by comparison, seems to be operating on a similar enough level to how he has done for most of his UFC career. Yes he has taken a step down in competition lately, but he’s performing as you would expect him to.
Statistically, Silva has a negative strike differential, and most of the key metrics are inferior to Klose as well. There’s every chance that this one turns into a barn burner, which would definitely suit the more dangerous Brazilian...but I fully expect Drakkar Klose to put on a typical 15 minute performance, where he settles down into his pace, and mixes in his superior striking and wrestling to coherently win rounds. It probably won’t be the most entertaining fight we’ve ever seen, but a commanding win is perfect for me. A vintage Drakkar Klose performance.
In terms of the betting line, I had Klose capped at around -200. The -137 available was a steal and I was very keen to take it, but I’d definitely be passing on this fight if I was looking at it for the first time now. Another reason why it’s important to keep track of my bet list at the bottom of each post, as I gave this out when -137 was widely available.
How I line this fight: Drakkar Klose -200 (67%), Joaquim Silva +200 (33%)
Bet or pass: 2u Drakkar Klose to Win (-137)
Prop leans: None
​
Alessandro Costa v Kevin Borjas
Alessandro Costa is a very flawed fighter. Good skills across the board, but the guy’s volume is so, low. I bet against him when he faced Steve Erceg, and that was most of the reason.
He faces Kevin Borjas, who we don’t know much about other than he isn’t as good of a striker than Joshua Van…which doesn’t tell us much at all. He did win a round in that fight, but that’s because Van is a bit of a slow starter and will take some time to get going.
I didn’t do tape on this one because I’m still kind of unsure about Borjas, and the betting line kind of reflects that the books don’t either. He’s a non-committal underdog at +110, where the books think he’s inferior but they don’t believe it with any degree of confidence. That sounds about right to me.
I just hope Costa wins this one so I might get another opportunity to fade him in the future.
How I line this fight: I didn’t tape but it looks about right to me.
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Dione Barbosa v Ernesta Kareckaite
I lost money on Kareckaite’s DWCS fight, in what was brilliant demonstration of why you really shouldn’t bother betting or researching that show. Ernesta basically followed the blueprint I thought Judice was going to use, almost like I’d gotten the fighters the wrong way around. Super high variance when they’re so green.
And we’ve got more green-ness here. Both women have less than 10 professional fights. Barbosa is a -225 underdog. I’d blindly fade that if you had to bet on this fight. Otherwise I’d leave it alone. Take it as an opportunity to learn more about them for next time.
How I line this fight: Don’t know, didn’t tape
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Joanderson Brito v Jack Shore
Banger. This is potentially the most exciting fight on the card, as you have to really high skilled grapplers facing off against one another.
I am convinced that Joanderson Brito is quite overrated. He’s so explosive and dangerous, that it actually makes up for some pretty significant flaws. He’s an awful minute winner, and any opponent that is able to stay safe against him is likely going to win on the scorecards. He has bulldozed three opponents in R1, shown a moment of brilliance against Jonathan Pearce, and been out-hustled by Bill Algeo. That shows a 4-1 UFC record, but all I see is a guy who has actually lost more minutes in the UFC cage than he’s won. I think he’s also getting second hand hype because he beat Diego Lopes on DWCS, and that guy is possibly the most exciting prospect in the UFC right now.
So can Jack Shore stay safe here? Well he’s definitely got the grappling to give it a good go. Just like Jonathan Pearce before him, Shore can use his intense wrestling to stay safe from Brito’s striking. Shore also has good BJJ, which makes me feel confident he can avoid Brito’s opportunistic but ultimately low percentage submission from bottom – at least better than Pearce did.
Obviously the striking is where Brito has a big advantage, and his dangerousness will certainly show itself there in the early goings. Shore hasn’t really fought any dangerous strikers in his UFC tenure so far, so it’s kind of hard to say how well he will fare in those striking moments.
This is one of those fights where breaking down the betting line from a probability perspective just results in an uncomfortable feeling, however you spin it. Brito has more ways to win and is somewhat of a fan favourite, so I can understand why he has the minus next to his number. However, I can really easily see the path to victory for Jack Shore, and I don’t think it’s crazy to say he could go out there and look like a -300 favourite. But then if I think about making Shore the favourite I’m immediately thinking about how dangerous Brito is and how he could easily look -300 as well! It’s a mind fuck.
At the end of the day, the line is relatively close at the moment. Shore sits around +125 which, given he hasn’t fought for a year and is going up against the flavour of the month, I guess I’m okay with. If Shore moves to +140 or better, I think I’ll have to play him. I think he could easily do what Jonathan Pearce or Bill Algeo did. Brito is a boogeyman who is half the fighter he’s hyped up to be if he can’t find a finish.
How I line this fight: Joanderson Brito -110 (52%), Jack Shore +110 (48%)
Bet or pass: Pass, for now
Prop leans: Brito ITD probably the best looking prop available, Jack has too many paths
​
Elves Brener v Myktkbek Orolbai
Man, what does Elves Brener have to do to catch a break!? Dude steps into the UFC (possibly on short notice?) and gets a win as a massive underdog against Tukhugov, then pulls off another upset against Guram Kutateladze. His opponent pulls out of his third fight and they give him a guy with a 15-1 record. Now he’s 3-0 and you’d finally think they start to give him the chance to build up some hype…but then they go and book him against Myktkbek Orolbai!
For those who haven’t seen Orolbai’s debut against Uros Medic last year, it was definitely one of the best debuts of 2023. He stuck to the Serbian like glue and, despite some persistent get ups, managed to find the submission relatively easily in what was a dominant performance.
Unfortunately, that fight was so one-sided that we don’t really know anything else about Orolbai at this level, as his other recent bouts took place on LFA against guys with 18-14 and 10-7 records.
With no further relevant info, there are too many gaps to form an opinion on Orolbai. What I will say is that Elves Brener has continued to play spoiler so far in his UFC career and continues to be underrated by the books despite that. Does he deserve to be around +200 here? Only if Orolbai is the real deal.
We will get our answers, but there’s no reason to put money on this fight. Anyone who does is putting blind faith in nine minutes of dominance against a Serbian on the mat…or they’re just chatting shit.
How I line this fight: Impossible to say
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Jean Silva v William Gomis
On the subject of underrated fighters, William Gomis features in our next bout. The Frenchman has a very underrated style, one that isn’t going to grab all the highlights or get him clamouring for a main event, but it’s still a very useful one inside the cage. He’s well-rounded, has great kicks to compliment a very technical striking style that goes well with his long frame. I was made first aware of Gomis when he dismantled the overhyped Cage Warriors prospect Tobias Harila. He was calm amongst the chaos, and put in a really professional performance that likely got the ball rolling to eventually earn him a UFC contract. The experience from that fight will serve him well here.
He faces Jean Silva, a very explosive Brazilian that trains with Caio Borralho’s Fighting Nerds. We saw him most recently when he obliterated the vastly inferior Westin Wilson – God knows how that kid got asked to come to the UFC. And they’re giving him a third fight. Really is an embarrassing company at this point.
Before that we saw Silva go 15 minutes on DWCS, and his style looks a lot less impressive when he can’t find a finish. There wasn’t much investment in striking fundamentals, everything was a big action with fight ending intentions. That’s all good when you’re fighting Westin Wilson who blocks punches with his face, but what about when you’re facing a talented kickboxer who prioritises defence and range management? I could very easily see Silva hitting air for 15 minutes.
So I think the line is the wrong way around here, and that William Gomis has the potential to win this one quite comfortable if he can play the matador game. Whilst that sounds like I am gearing up to bet him, I’m actually going to pass on this one currently. He’s only at +110 so it’s not like he’s at a clear underdog price, and considering he’s not the explosive fighter that’s going to be chasing the finish and doing the damage, I think he’s got more of a job to do to impress the judges. Furthermore, we are obviously in Brazil where I think the crowd can certainly emphasise the work that Silva does, which may twist the judges’ arm a bit more.
So there’s value on Gomis, but not enough to warrant a bet. It’s a reluctant pass for me. If there’s major line movement I might play Gomis at like +150, but I doubt it goes that far.
How I line this fight: Jean Silva +120 (46%), William Gomis -120 (54%)
Bet or pass: Pass, unless the line moves.
Prop leans: None
​
Karolina Kowalkiewicz v Iasmin Lucindo
If Craig v Borralho was a nice gift for me as a bettor, this is possibly my worst nightmare. I’m probably one of KK’s biggest fans, and Iasmin Lucindo is a prospect I am very high on. I bet on these women pretty much every time I can, and I think I’ve actually won money on both Moneylines and Method of Victorys in every fight they’ve both had since I started posting here.
If you read my stuff every week, you’ll know Karolina is my girl. Genuinely my favourite fighter. But I think this is the wake-up call she and I knew was coming eventually. KK’s resurgence has been such an inspiring journey, from getting absolutely brutalised, struggling badly with her mental health, taking the time off and coming back to string together four wins on the trot. That post-fight interview against Herrig was one of my favorite interview moments in UFC history.
But, having said all that, the UFC have been really kind to her. They’ve given her competitive fights that she is capable of winning if she keeps herself together…but Diana Belbita, Vanessa Demopoulos, Silvana Gomez Suarez, and Felice Herrig are certainly a lower calibre within WMMA who have already shown us their ceiling. Iasmin Lucindo is a completely different fighter.
Lucindo is a prospect, pure and simple. She’s got great striking, and great BJJ. I said when she fought Jauregui in her debut that these two could easily meet again in the top 5 of the division in a few years time, and I think her sophomore performance against Polyana Viana showed that (I bet her quite heavily in that one). Viana’s trash and it was the perfect matchup for her, but there’s reason to believe that this one could be too.
Kowalkiewicz’s resurgence has relied on her fighting opponents that mostly want to strike, and even if not, the wrestling of these women has been at a level she could handle…I don’t expect that to be the case against Lucindo. Iasmin has an advantage in speed, and age/youthfulness as 16 years the junior. We know that plays a massive part in fights, and I expect it to here. Karolina isn’t particularly good on the mat if those takedowns, but we just haven’t seen it for some time. If Lucindo gets top time, I think she probably manouvres her way to a submission with relative ease.
Of course, this one is much more competitive if they choose to strike, as Karolina’s got the right blend of determination, volume, and technique to keep any B grade or lower striker honest over the course of three rounds. Lucindo’s not the most amazing striker I have ever seen, but I also don’t expect her to be outclassed by Kowalkiewicz either. In WMMA, if you don’t have a unique striking style such as power or suffocating pressure (which neither girl has), then there’s only so much you can really do at this level to separate yourself as the superior striker. If they fight 100 rounds on the feet, I wouldn’t expect either woman to win more than 65 of the 100 times.
So that’s the key bit of information when looking at the betting line here. I know Lucindo deserves to be a significant favourite, due to youthfulness and a style that finally doesn’t actually suite her Polish opponent…but Karolina is sound enough to easily make this one competitive. If Lucindo doesn’t show a significant urgency or even desire to shoot takedowns, or if Karolina can stuff them, then this one looks much closer to a 50/50ish fight on the feet.
Whilst that sounds like I’m leaning towards playing my girl Karolina Kowalkiewicz, I’m unfortunately not. It’s impossible to really say how much success Lucindo is going to have with her takedown attempts here, so I can’t clearly quantify how much of a favourite she could be. If she can land them with ease, she might look -500. If she can’t land them at all, she could look +100. Compared to the -300 betting line we are getting, that definitely sounds like a pass. If you’re someone who likes to bet on every fight for the fun of it, a roll of the dice on Kowalkiewicz definitely isn’t the worst idea.
However, I will be keeping an eye out for that Lucindo by Submission prop. I doubt I’d get a good line on it with her being -300, but there’s always a chance the books get caught napping because it’s WMM and they expect a decision. We’ll see, I’d probably take +200 or better.
How I line this fight: Iasmin Lucindo -200 (66%), Karolina Kowalkiewicz +200 (33%)
Bet or pass: Pass on the ML, might bet Lucindo by Submission if I get a nice price (I’m talking +225 or better)
Prop leans: See above
​
Mauricio Ruffy v Jamie Mullarkey
Mauricio Ruffy has won all of his professional fights via KO, and has fought quite a few cans in his day. He is the -160 favourite and is obviously very undeserving of that price tag against a guy with a decent amount of UFC experience.
Jamie Mullarkey is very unreliable, has bad fight IQ, and just generally isn’t very good. Dude lost a striking fight to Michael Johnson and got KO’d by Nasrat Haqparast – two things I thought were very hard to do in this day and age.
Pick your poison. Or don’t, and just be smart and leave this fight alone.
How I line this fight: who knows
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Ismael Bonfim v Vinc Pichel
Ismael Bonfim returns from what was originally a massive upset at the hands of Benoit Saint Denis last July, but thankfully for him the Frenchman’s performances since have helped that result age well, as he elevated himself to prospect status and faced Poirier.
I was sadly all aboard the Ismael Bonfim hype train, as I deemed his debut win over Terrance McKinney as arguable the debut of the year for 2023. McKinney’s actually been fraud checked a fair bit since then so that win has coincidentally aged badly on the reverse. Nonetheless, I still think this Bonfim is good and will eventually turn into a top 15 fighter (not like his brother, an overrated fraud that I faded against Nicholas fucking Dalby).
Either way, the UFC are trying to run the Ismael Bonfim hype back again by pitting him against a 40 year old Vinc Pichel, who they’re probably just looking to get off the books as he likely has a contract that pays far more than he’s worth (by the 10/10 standard, anyway). Pichel is old but not particularly shop worn due to lack of commitment to his MMA career. He’s a well-rounded guy that always seems to end up in grappling-based fights. He has been competitive with the likes of Mark Madsen, Austin Hubbard, Jim Miller and Roosevelt Roberts in recent years, which kind of paints the picture that he’s capable but limited.
I think it’s fair to assume that Ismael Bonfim really should have Pichel covered here. He’s the way more dangerous fighter, and will be the one having moments of success where he threatens to finish. Outside of some sort of massive cardio dump, I think he can either find a finish or competently win 2/3 rounds with relative ease.
He’s -400 on the betting line so the odds clearly reflect that. I definitely wouldn’t be interested in playing him at that number, seeing as he’s returning from a massive setback and may not be the same as he once was. I could see him winning via all three potential methods of victory, so I’m not really sure a bet is possible here.
How I line this fight: Ismael Bonfim -400 (80%), Vinc Pichel +400 (20%)
Bet or pass: Pass
Prop leans: None
​
Bets (Bold = been placed)
Xu Pantoja vs Erceg to last Over X.5 rounds (+XXX, can’t really say what I’d bet until I see numbers)
5u Caio Borralho to Win (-275)
1u Michel Pereira to Win by TKO/KO (+XXX, probably not bettable but I’d take under -150)
2u Michel Pereira + Mateusz Rebecki to Win (-105)
2u Drakkar Klose to Win (-137)
2u Jack Shore to Win (+140 or better)
1u Iasmin Lucindo to Win by Submission (+XXX, I’d take +225 or better)
0.25u Parlay Pieces (+XXX, props not out yet)
Parlay Pieces: Pantoja/Erceg Over 1.5 Rounds, Caio Borralho, Michel Pereira, Drakkar Klose, Ismael Bonfim
Dog of the Week: Jack Shore

Strong Christians, can you pray for me? I feel guilty for sharing my story because I don’t want to shake the resolve of any followers. I need the counsel of mature Christians.
I grew up Catholic, went to Catholic school for 12 years, & had a great time. I went a private university but still attended Mass every Sunday. Returned home, got bored w/my local parish (boring sermons) & then got invited to an amazing Protestant church that I loved.
All throughout this I believed in God but not Jesus until I got sick & was healed after praying to God in His Name (long story). Now I’m a full-fledged Christian.
I present my background to contextualize my decision. I’ve always wanted to save myself for marriage because it just made sense to me. It still does - it’s in God’s Word to reserve sex for marriage.
However, at age 19, I was diagnosed with Hypothyroidism and started experiencing diffuse hair loss. Diagnosed as Androgenetic Alopecia, I finally felt the need to wear a wig at age 26. At first it was weaved in, and then I just got a clip-on topper.
That devastated me. For decades I’d break down crying whenever I had to get my hair cut. I saw my sister dating in NYC for YEARS & experience so much heartache as a Christian. She’s conventionally beautiful & thin, but I always struggled w/my weight. We’re both 5’8, but I weighed 185lbs, which was very obese for Manhattan.
I just thought if she kept getting her heart broken, what about me??? She didn’t save sex for marriage, but she was conservative compared to other women.
Yet it was so hard for her to find a Christian man that she clicked with. So I put off online dating until I could lose weight and work on myself to better my chances.
Decades passed. My sister finally got married at 40, after moving out of NY. I moved out too, but I’m still single and age 49. I’m 240lbs now, still wearing a wig.
I just want to give up on my dream of falling in love and getting married. It’s too painful. What hurts the most is how I’ve been sidelined for being single, even by my own sister. Now that she’s married, she’s immersed in couple activities with other married couples.
No one talks about what it’s like to obey God’s Word about staying a virgin until marriage and how you’re treated when no one picks you to get married. Because of my weight, no one offers to introduces me to anyone.
I even feel guilty for writing any of this. I know people are going through famine and war around the world. My problems are nothing compared to theirs.
I just want advice on how to turn off my feelings. How to stop wanting an impossible dream. I sometimes get cynical seeing young couples in church and wondering how many women have to sexually compromise to be in a dating relationship.
Gosh, I sound so negative. I’m not going to leave this post up too long because I don’t want to discourage any Christians with my story.
I still believe in saving sex for marriage. If I was thin & didn’t wear a wig, I’d be married by now because I’m kind of pretty. I just don’t know how to emotionally resign myself to my fate.
I’m going to turn 50 this year & I just want to not be sad about this anymore. I can finally go to a hair salon and not break down into tears anymore, which is huge for me. I just don’t want to yearn and long for romantic love anymore.
Does anyone have PRACTICAL ways to deal with these emotions and get rid of this negativity? With regards to my weight, it’s gone up & down so much that I’ve given up. I just don’t want to continue life sad. If I was an atheist, I would’ve killed myself a long time ago. Sorry for getting so dark there.

Right! One more episode just packed to the brims that makes me love how every character is always like:
"it's not my secret to tell" "it's not my business"
but then everyone is mixing themselves into every else's business because that's humans for you. And sometimes that has hilarious, others it has tragic results and feel free to guess where most of the meddling ends on that scale, in this episode.
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I love how Fellowes looves killing us softly. We're starting with a wide shot of Downton, as sunny a day as you can get up in Yorkshire, but then you look at the foreground, and see Matthew in a wheelchair with Mary pushing him on what I assume is a sad imitation of their usual walk and talk around the estate.
Just, take yourselves back a season, remember the young man who was "so full of himself", i.e. confident, strolling into Downton having no idea what to expect but being certain enough in himself to not be afraid of any criticism. And then meeting a young woman also so full of herself, confident, but also quite angry, and who could not understand why she was supposed to not only dine with him as equals, but be pushed at him, like he had already known and she had scoffed at, to be his wife.
And then life happened, and they were both humbled a lot, and grew up a lot, and sometimes the way it happened was way too tragic.
Because Matthew had never asked to be Lord of the manor strolling around Downton in splendour. He had been brought up to believe he needed to stand on his own two feet, to work hard and earn his way. And Mary had never had to work a day in her life. Had thought it was too enraging to even dine with Matthew, the usurper of her father's affections and her mother's fortune.
And now here they are, Matthew relying on others to make his way, and said others being Lady Mary Crawley.
Golly Gumdrops, what a turnip indeed!
Note: they are still the future of Downton though. Like I said, it's as sunny as a day can get in Yorkshire (some clouds but the sun/hope is coming through), and Downton is standing strong behind them. Visual language is a thing of beauty sometimes.
Mary: I shall have arms like Jack Johnson if I’m not careful.
Matthew: I’m strong enough to wheel myself.
Mary: I’ll be the judge of that.
I love them. Their situation might be different, but their stubbornness and character shines through immediately. Mary with a sarcastic joke. Matthew still insisting he can work his way. Mary letting him know she sets the rules of the game thank you very much.
They've changed, but they're still themselves, just more mature, a bit worn.
Matthew then going on a slightly depressive space all "William was the brave one, sacrifice should be rewarded, he should be here not *exactly* instead of me etc" and Mary picking up on it immediately and setting him straight.
"I don't think we can say "should" about things that happen in war. It just happens. And we should live with it."
She does that thing where she rolls her entire head (not just the eyes, Michelle you genius, the camera was too far away, wouldn't pick up on that) because clearly she's been talking him out of his depressive moods for a while and she's become an expert at letting him air his grievances but easily replying with just the thing that will shut him up and keep him grounded.
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Carlisle: Ought I to be jealous?
Ugh. Here we fucking go.
I love Robert's face. Constipated. And as terrible a liar as his eldest daughter, but unlike her he knows it so he doesn't even reply to Carlisle and instead changes the subject.
I'm so confused by Carlisle. Well, not confused, I know what he's doing. I'm just pissed off at him I guess.
He had made it clear to Mary, immediately, that he was not in love with her. That he felt no affection for her. That the marriage he had in mind was one of mutual social benefit.
So no, Carlisle, you're not supposed to be jealous. You asked Mary to be your society wife. To give you the aristocratic connection you needed, to be there to guide you through their insane traditions and to show up at functions and be socially savvy, and to give you "blue-blooded" children.
*vomits*
Carlisle has no rights to her heart, and she knows this. Mary guards her heart more than any other character on this show, and she'd certainly not offered it to Richard, ever, so why would he possibly be jealous???
Matthew is impotent in these scenes, clearly there's nothing they could do that could damage Carlisle socially, even if they wanted to (which they actually didn't, Mary was offering her love and care in the least sexual way possible, and Matthew was nowhere near that mindset), and Mary was offering Matthew none of the things Richard wanted so what's the deal mate??
It will be made clear, at the very end of the episode.
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I'm hating on Robert so hard in this scene. I love well-written it is though, because Robert and Carlisle are talking about completely different things.
Robert knows how Mary feels about Matthew. We've seen that realisation hit him in the previous episode. But when Carlisle says he wants to buy Haxby, Robert wonders whether it would be "comfortable" for them to stay at Haxby.
Does this mean he was aware Matthew was also still in love with Mary? Or did he simply worry it would be too painful for Mary to be so close to Matthew and Lavinia? Is it possible he could already see this being an issue, but decided to not say absolutely anything about it because... Who cares I guess????
So what if Mary is in a loveless marriage, as long as she's married, able to procreate, and somewhere far enough from Downton that her and Matthew's stupidity wouldn't cause trouble to the family?
Or did he think if they were far enough away she'd forget?
Either way, Robert is thinking of what Richard said previously, that Matthew and Mary are definitely not done, meanwhile, for all his "worries" over Mary falling for Matthew all Richard is thinking of is the practicalities of the place because he wasn't actually buying it with Mary in mind. Just his dreams of climbing the social ladder and then showing it off in absolute splendour.
With the beautiful aristocratic wife on his arm and his money buying the very best house and luxuries available, all trophies to show off to his potential crowd of sycophants.
*gags*
So, yeah, fuck Robert and his indifference to Mary becoming some asshole's trophy wife. Great, A++ parenting right there. I mean sure, she's a grown woman who makes her own choices, but Robert's inaction/indifference is just pathetic and telling of his parenting style in the past, when Mary was *not* a grown woman.
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Ah, fake Patrick, my beloved. I hope the user forever making their point about that storyline is still around, mate give me a shout if you like this breakdown in the end!
Let me start off by saying that he DID take terrible advantage of Edith. He read the situation really well, greeting her with: "Lady Edith, SECOND daughter of the house", to which Edith replied "Yes, IN CHARGE of non-medical welfare".
It doesn't take long for Fellowes to show character weakness when he wants to, and Edith wears her emotions on her sleeve. It does help her become more likeable (to those who like emotive characters, I prefer mine as frosty as the Antartica until you cut through all that ice but again, personal preferences!) but it also exposes her to exploitation, again and again because this is neither the first time, nor the last time it happens. Fake Patrick read her like a book.
We could also say that there were things he could know from the real Patrick. Edith has always worn her heart on her sleeve and she's openly tried to take the attention of Mary's suitors before, so it's no stretch to say she'd definitely show Patrick she was into him, something that Patrick might have said to his friend.
But as that is speculation, we still have that bit of dialogue to see how Edith gave herself and her weakness, her feeling of inferiority she tries so hard to make up for in various ways, away to this man.
Also, he says "I hope my appearance doesn't put you off" while he's still hidden in the shadows, and Edith quite confidently replies "At this stage there isn't much that puts me off" but then he quite swiftly comes into the light, and oh-
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Edith has to look away in shock, and to manage to hold on to her composure and continue in polite conversation. Very manipulative, this Fake Patrick, able to use his recent injury to his advantage, because this was a power move. That yes, he could put her off if he wanted to.
I do feel sorry for Edith here. She tries to give him an explanation for their common "family history", already a victim of his manipulation because she tries to give him comfort which he Definitely doesn't need, and she closes it off with "well, as I said, I'm hopeless".
Unfortunately, that is true, but sadly, not in the way she says it. She's hopeless in falling for his act, actually.
He drops the hook with saying "I hoped you'd recognise my voice" and sees her interest before she's pulled away by Sybil. For now, Fake Patrick is satisfied with himself. Progress, he thinks.
Fellowes, you witty bastard.
Right. Moving on to yet another manipulative bastard:
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Carlisle: Lady Mary and I intend to buy a home near Downton.
Fuck off. You never needed Mary's agreement or permission in doing anything. He just knows what he needs to say to get Carson to listen.
"It's a long way from London, but I've made enough money to please myself these days."
Finally, some honesty. "to please MYSELF". No kidding. I know it just slipped out, he didn't mean to show his hand, but again, excellent writing.
In any case, Carlisle had started his campaign on how to fix the Matthew and Mary issue. He's a newspaper man, he knows the best way to work is to surround yourself with people literally in your pocket. He offered to job to Carson to lull Mary in a sense of security, that she'd have someone she considered family with her, and hoped he could buy off his loyalty because Carlisle puts 0 weight on real loyalty and affection, so he'd never expect Carson to not fold to his own wishes, if he needed him to, over his loyalty to Mary.
Carson: I await Lady Mary's instruction.
Right. We'll get back to that, next episode. I'm not gonna comment here further than saying that obviously, at this point Carson's loyalty remains with his daughter current employer's daughter.
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Mary: It's so empty
Visual language, she's standing alone in an empty and very grand house. But it's empty. Like her current situation. Very grand. And empty.
Also she and Carlisle are on opposite ends of the house AND when the camera looks at Mary, we look at her head-on because her situation is unchanged, but we look at Carlisle from below, because "he's rising" in the world 😒
The script again, gives us excellent lines "When Billy died it knocked the stuffing out of them" like the stuffing had been knocked out of Mary. All that misery had resulted in Billy's parents leaving Haxby, and Mary coming to it.
Also Mary when Carlisle says they can buy furniture and paintings "Your lot buys it. My lot inherits it. We ought to get back."

1. Apparently, if you're going to marry a man this authoritative, you really should learn that you will suffer if you're going to be so open with your opinions, as a woman. Mary finds that out soon enough. But it's MARY, and God knows I love her for her strength of spirit, so she definitely won't slip into the role of the compliant, broken wife. My girl 🥹
2. "your lot buys it, my lot inherits it. We ought to get back" Her brain has gone from Carlisle's lot, to her lot, which is Matthew, who will inherit Downton and all its furniture and paintings, because Matthew has gone from interloper to her lot/family in her mind, and by the way, Matthew needs her so they ought to get back.

Again. So. Well. Written.
Carlisle: Why? What's at Downton that needs your attention so urgently?
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Again, fuck off Carlisle. Why do you care who she spends her time with, she's still your trophy wife. Mary doesn't even bother responding because, guess what, it's actually none of his fucking business. MY GIRL
Carlisle: Well, what do you think? Should we give the house a second chapter?
Mary: Well, I suppose one has to live somewhere
She really can't understand why he's suddenly pretending they're something more than what they actually are. She won't give him the satisfaction of going along with it. "One has to live somewhere" i.e. it doesn't matter where we'll be, the house won't make any difference to what we will be to each other.
Back to Fake Patrick and his campaign of misinformation.
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He says "do you still not recognise me" and traps Edith, both because he knows she will want to give him what he wants, and because she's in a situation where a woman of her station simply has to remember an acquittance so she says "I know, I'm being so silly" even though she's not being silly at all, she has no reason to remember him.
This is why Edith is the more feminine of the three sisters. Neither Sybil nor Mary would give a flying fuck about the rules of society here, while Edith truly tries to be a model woman, still. They would refuse to make themselves appear silly to satisfy a man. They'd both say some variation of "Why the fuck should I remember you?" Mary's probably closer to that sentiment than Sybil's, and go on with their lives.
Anyway, Fake Patrick goes on creating connections that Edith doesn't actually see, only reads them through what he's dishing out to her, and slowly begins to believe his bullshit.
"I was just hoping you'd realise without me having to spell it out" he shifts the blame on her for not recognising him, when she had 0 reasons to make that connection. Like a manipulative bastard.
There's a reason there wasn't a scene between Fake Patrick and Mary. She'd eat him alive.
It's also moments like this that make me feel sad for Edith and Mary's relationship. This is something that Mary could have protected her sister from, if their relationship wasn't so very damaged.
He gets Edith to sit down and he feeds her the tale, but she still has questions so when he gets the chance he manipulates her again:
Edith: And it must be so hard for you, what with Mary getting married.
Fake Patrick: Did I love her very much?
Edith: Well, I'm the wrong person to ask.
Fake Patrick: Because you were the one who really loved me, you mean?
Edith: I never thought Patrick knew.
Fake Patrick: Well, he did. I--I do.
He asks Edith if he loved Mary, because he knows that will give her the space to expose herself, to let him know if she has lingering feelings for Patrick, and that gives him a footing to manipulate her emotionally.
They actually don't speak about Patrick's feelings at all. Only Edith's. They don't say if Patrick loved Mary. They don't even talk about if Mary loved Patrick. They only talk of Edith's feelings, and he lets her know that Patrick knew about it (and slips a bit when he says that Patrick knew, not himself).
https://preview.redd.it/nw0xmitaf9xc1.jpg?width=564&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4a4d27b41a4cf9d2dc78ae4b372aedd503cbf911
Mary: *something about Haxby park with the least amount of enthusiasm imaginable*
Matthew: Can we stop??
Yeah, mate. I wish you would. Take a moment to actually think. But why would you do that when you can both be idiots instead.
Matthew: I'd much rather see your face when we talk
Mary is hard enough to read when you're watching her expressions closely, how can he judge what she feels if he can only tell from her voice? And he needs to know how she feels about Haxby, and Carlisle.
Oh, Matthew 😔
https://preview.redd.it/79sp0wfff9xc1.jpg?width=752&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=5ef5234c1d5022bbc8d4cb25c318d02ae8c0b47c
Mary: I don't have to marry him, you know.
They talk about Mary and Carlisle buying Haxby, about Carson's devotion to her, and she's so desperate. I think part of it is because she wonders who will Matthew have in his corner. She wants to tell him that just as Carson would "open his veins for her" she would do the same for Matthew. And she tells that to him now, not before or after, because now, this moment, is the only time when Lavinia is truly not in the picture. Because she doesn't take away from Matthew's happiness by not only showing him, but telling him how much she truly cares. Well. As much as Mary can manage to talk about feelings anyway.
She also thinks she will have Carson in her corner, and that's something, but who will Matthew have if she leaves? She's also so desperate the more the time passes and the closer she comes to the reality that actually, she won't be able to stay at Matthew's side for much longer.
How else would she say "I don't have to marry him", if not in despair? Of course she has to marry him. She still thinks her father and Matthew would hate her if they knew the truth. She thinks Carlisle would sell her story the moment she pulled out of the deal (and we'll talk about why he didn't do it when the time comes), her plea here is more showing of how desperate she is over their situation, and to show Matthew that she'd do anything for him.
From his end, Matthew would never accept that kind of devotion.
Matthew: Yes, you do. If I thought for a moment that I was an argument against your marriage, I should jump into the nearest river.
There's two sides to this:

1. If he wouldn't "trap" Lavinia in a life as his wife and nurse, he certainly wouldn't "trap" Lady Mary Crawley to a life as his nurse. What I love is that, unlike other men on the show who just don't think women capable of knowing their own minds, Matthew doesn't dismiss Mary's opinion and feelings, he only dismisses himself. He doesn't think she's misguided in her thoughts, just that he doesn't want to be the one to drag her down to his level, because he thinks himself quite worthless right now.
2. "I wouldn't let you anywhere near me" I think in the end of the day, he's aware of his weakness, and his weakness is Mary. And if Mary weren't engaged, if what she was offering wasn't to be his nurse, he wouldn't be strong enough to send her away. He loves her too much.

Right, from that tear-jerker lets move to some fun bits for once:
Matthew:... I should jump into the nearest river.
Mary: And how would you manage that without my help?
Matthew: Well, I'd get you to push me in.
Lord give me strength.
A marriage of equals. Where Matthew would need Mary's help. Where Mary would be in a position to help him, but would be reluctant to do so, unless persuaded by Matthew to change her mind.
Hmmm, I think there's a storyline (or two) from season 3 that fits this dialogue perfectly. And some that fit it in reverse.
https://preview.redd.it/ynlzfi2ag9xc1.jpg?width=806&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=083feb4df2413be6c954eb8c163217ef599198d0
*insert any and all rage gifs*
He looks so, so sad. His own life seems so bleak. And Mary is engaged so he "lets" her spend time with him. But also, Mary is engaged, to another man.
And look at her as well. She can see how depressed he is and it's killing her, and she's trying so hard to help him find some hope. Mary's heartbreak over Matthew's self-pity and fatalism is a thing that can destroy a person (me).
If only they weren't so perfect for each other and still killing me with their endless drama and bloody stubborn stupidity and gaaaaaaaahh.
Moving on
https://preview.redd.it/k8um7kucg9xc1.jpg?width=400&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=26e61e621f1b8991fa49a62ab8ee58699c5175d2
I love how these scenes come in one after the other.
Mary and Matthew bathed in light, even in their tragedy, and Carlisle and Cora shown in dark outlines as they're watching them, because what they are plotting is truly, honestly, so disgusting and vile in its selfishness.
No one expected anything better from Carlisle, but Cora???
First of all, Mary would be so ashamed to be so easily read. Matthew doesn't care, he's open with his emotions because he's confident in his ability to withstand whatever comes his way, and to not be manipulated by them, Mary cares, and she'd normally hate being so obvious if she wasn't so torn apart by Matthew's misery.
Second of all, honestly, Cora. I thought she'd have known better than involving herself in Mary's life by now, but apparently not. And by the way, she doesn't make a choice for Mary here, she makes it for herself, and her family, and what SHE thinks is best. And what she thinks is best is marrying Mary off to Carlisle because Carlisle CAN make babies with Mary and what does Mary even matteworth to anyone if she doesn’t do her duty and bear children?
*gags, vomits, throws computer out a window*
Anyone who knew Mary, truly knew her, and cared about her, would know that taking her away from Matthew and pushing her further in with Carlisle would not be in her -personal- best interest.
Also, selfish, and frankly disgusting, that Cora bulked at the idea of Mary being Matthew's nurse, but didn't mind throwing Lavinia at that "hideous" prospect. After all, Lavinia has no “blue blood” to speak of so who the fuck cares.
I honestly hate these people. They can both fuck right off. Their interference here was an absolute travesty. And if we want to talk about the real reason things went so sour with Lavinia, we can stare at these two, in this moment.
Because before Matthew's injury, he and Mary were far more removed from each other. After all that time of her taking care of him though, there was a bond there that was far more difficult to ignore. And if Lavinia hadn't come back, they would have figured it out. And Carlisle knew that. So at least I can understand his motivations in not wanting Lavinia back, because he was actually worried at this point that Mary might pull out of their agreement (and again, we will talk more about his "leverage" over her later on), but Cora? Shameful. Honestly.
https://preview.redd.it/wqgolomng9xc1.jpg?width=800&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=bfcc27b542011770a8c3050963f4382de2b01e49
HER FACE
She couldn't believe that someone, anyone, would change their lives for her sake. Carson says "It would be a huge wrench for me to leave Downton" but he would do it for her, and she just can't believe it.
And this is important in how bad her reaction is later.
Because Mary isn't used to people showing her CARE. Interest yes, many people are interested in her. But interest and care are two very different things.
Also, just one bit from her conversation with Robert later:
Robert: You know there is nothing more ill-bred than to steal other people's servants.
Mary: But you're not other people. And Carson brought me up.
I.e. You're not "other people" you're my actual father, and should show a bit more consideration for my welfare. And Carson is not a servant, he's family. And he's showing Mary more consideration than her actual father in this instance. Or at least, that's how she sees it, in this moment. Especially since in the end, Robert doesn't give in to losing Carson for Mary's sake, but because it's what Carson wants.
The bad stuff haven't come yet and I'm already crying for her. Life has another slap on its way and it will hit her hard. And it's not even the one coming from Fake Patrick and his bullshit. Speaking of which-
https://preview.redd.it/0y1gc49sg9xc1.png?width=1205&format=png&auto=webp&s=dc46ea8d1be487b71bd5e4941d72882f5b7368a9
Family councils hadn’t made an appearance in ages and honestly, given how sad this one is, and how they normally come around when one tragedy or other strikes, I can’t exactly say I’ve missed them.
Emotions run high, and it’s amazing that the most exuberant of them all is Mary.
Matthew is only finding an outlet for his grief, the loss of inheritance seen as yet another thing he had trouble accepting before, but is certain he doesn’t deserve now. And Mary looks at him with so. Much. Pain.
Because she’s been there. She IS there. She knows what it feels like to feel completely worthless. To think you’ve lost your place in the world. That whatever it was that gave your life value before simply isn’t there anymore, and it’s KILLING her to see Matthew completely lost in self-hatred.
But because she’s Mary, she won’t just sit there quietly and let him take it, no matter what he says. She’ll yell and make a fuss and fight for him when he’s not in a place to fight for himself, and she'll do those things with much more conviction than she ever fought for herself so far.
And she’s literally got nothing to gain from this. Matthew has rebutted her efforts to stay by his side time and again, and her standing up for him now won’t win her any favours with literally anyone. It serves no purpose for her to be suddenly so emotional over something that really shouldn’t matter to her, but she’s not standing up for her own benefit, but for Matthew’s.
Edith is certainly surprised, exactly because she doesn’t understand why Mary would care, because Edith doesn’t know/believe how much Mary loves Matthew.
Note 1: Matthew and Mary have this in common: when they're most hurt they turn their pain to anger. My heart breaks that Mary knows this and can read that in Matthew's reaction, because it's so like her own.
Note 2: I love how Carlisle is almost uplifted to hear about Matthew’s loss of his inheritance, only to immediately intervene when he thinks it might be something that will cause issues to his own plans (when Edith points out that Mary used to be engaged to Patrick). I love how Mary rolls her eyes because of course that is absolutely ridiculous, and not only because Mary knows Patrick is dead.
I can tell Mary is Fellowes’ favourite character in this scene at least, because she’s the only one who doesn’t buy Fake Patrick’s absolutely ridiculous ploy. And it’s probably the reason why we don’t get to see her end Fake Patrick because she would never bother even meeting him, that’s how convinced she is he’s fake.
https://preview.redd.it/kihe5v3wg9xc1.png?width=1205&format=png&auto=webp&s=0da90fce57dbd957a8b263730cbfd9d45750821c
Note 3: The only other 2 people who react strongly to these news are Isobel and Robert. Isobel because it’s heartbreaking for her to watch her son, always so strong and confident, be this defeated, and Robert because he does love Matthew as a son. It is though heartbreaking he wouldn’t show the same consideration when his daughter is writing off her own life.
Oh well.
We momentarily get back to Edith and Fake Patrick, and Fake Patrick continues giving Edith reasons to create stories she thinks he remembers, without him actually remembering any of them. It’s just sad. She was too desperate.
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At the second family council re: Fake Patrick: Violet very astutely places herself in support of Matthew. And in this instance, I think it was simply because she was smart enough to know that this was a Fake Patrick.
Mary hits the nail on the head when she randomly guesses one of the things Fake Patrick “remembered” and gives a pause to Edith’s conviction.
Isobel is still worried over Matthew, even though he appears to be much calmer, and I think a combination of Isobel, Mary, and now watching Violet sort of take his side has helped him see reason, if not that he’s worthy of his position (since he still says “It’ll take a man who’s more than I am now to follow you. So don’t think about me”), that at the very least he’s nowhere near losing it.
I don’t think even Edith herself realised how damaging it would be for Matthew to lose Downton now, that it would have been incredibly difficult for him to find work.
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Carlisle brings Lavinia back to Downton, Cora greets her like she’s an lamb for slaughter old friend, and there’s a variety of shock and horror on multiple people’s faces.
https://preview.redd.it/b288zpfph9xc1.png?width=1199&format=png&auto=webp&s=24116f5d80c2703c9d825fa188a7404051a46b21
I think what gets to me the most is this, Matthew has mostly resigned himself to his situation rather than happily accepted Lavinia’s return. He’s been told by so many people that he should embrace this new life, that he should make the most of it, and he’s probably quite vulnerable now when he realises that actually, he still has so much to lose when he thought he’d reached rock bottom, that he will take this, even though he probably still doesn’t think it’s right.
I don’t know how to feel about the row Robert and Cora had.
On the one hand, it could explain Robert’s lack of reaction to Carlisle being a horrible future husband for Mary. He can clearly see Mary loves Matthew, but he doesn’t like the idea of Mary still being attached to him any more than Cora does.
He does say however “Sometimes Cora you can be curiously unfeeling” and I’m not sure if he says that because Cora doesn’t care if Lavinia ends up as Matthew’s nurse, or because he can see how hard it all is for Mary and Matthew and he finds the solution of “Mary is still in love with Matthew even though she’s marrying Carlisle, so let’s bring Lavinia in to even the odds out” a cruelty to everyone involved.
I find it all incredibly cruel so for Robert’s sake, I hope the answer is both. It’s a cruel, stupid plan and will literally hurt everyone involved.
https://preview.redd.it/3bjoh2xyh9xc1.png?width=1854&format=png&auto=webp&s=4e06af52102bd839ece8cad6ddc835d32e609c65
I don’t know about any of you, but I remember being young and watching this, and my heart almost giving out.
For one thing, Mary freezes again the moment Carlisle grabs her.
For another thing, it happens in her home. Again. In the place where she should feel strong and safe because it’s her “noble” family’s home. And she’s yet again reminded that, no, actually, she’s not strong. Or at least, her strength of character doesn’t matter because in the end she’s not a man, she’s a woman at the mercy of the man who currently has control over her.
And he forces a kiss on her and she just stands there, numb, nods that she’ll follow his wishes, absolutely frozen still.
I do hate this show sometimes, but I do love that Mary stood up to him all by herself. In the end.
Note: the thing that Mary says to Carlisle that sets him off is “suppose Matthew won’t have her” i.e. Lavinia, and that in the end of the day if Mary wants to spend time helping Matthew it really isn’t Carlisle’s business. But Carlisle is a controlling fuck, so he took issue with that. That has been his problem all along. He doesn't care if Mary has feelings for another man, he just wants her entirely under his thumb regardless and he makes sure she knows he has all the cards.
The fact that there’s people on here saying Carlisle was “mistreated” really pisses me off to no end. But then they're often on here defending Pamuk so, you know, people be people.
Anyway. Fake Patrick leaves, the war ends, Mary is told to keep her distance, and Matthew starts gaining some feeling in his legs, which is I suppose what salvaged his relationship with Lavinia, at this stage.
God, this was long. Have a nice week everyone, the next episode should be easier as I think it's the filler one before Fellowes starts killing off ppl 💀

I 20(f) have been experiencing total body hyposthesia and saddle anesthesia for a month now and I’m at loss of trying to figure out what’s causing it. I don’t have a history of anxiety or depression and I have not been on any any medication over the last couple of years. I also have not been injured as of recently so I really don’t know what could be causing this . I basically have reduced sensation of touch and temperature all over the body. I have been to the ER and have been to my PCP and no doctors know what is causing this. My symptoms have progressively been worsening and I don’t know what to to do .
EDIT: I also have never used drugs or alcohol

• [ ] hypoesthesia all over entire body
• [ ] Numbness & Reduced sensation of touch from all over entire body
• [ ] Cognitive fog
• [ ] Vision is becoming more blurry
• [ ] Numbness in lips , mouth & throat
• [ ] Loss of taste and changes in taste as well and smell
• [ ] Difficulty swallowing
• [ ] abnormalities in sweating ( decrease of normal sweating )
• [ ] Difficulty talking sometimes my words come out slurred
• [ ] Trouble breathing
• [ ] Reduced sensation of temperature from head to toe (can only tell difference between major changes in temp. Ex. hot or cold)
• [ ] complete abdominal numbness (loss of appetite & hunger signals and cues as well as loss of feeling full)
• [ ] Saddle anesthesia
• [ ] Loss of any sexual desire
• [ ] Don’t get normal sensation to pee anymore
• [ ] Can only feel when I have to poop when it hits the urgency point
• [ ] Muscle cramps and spasms
• [ ] Body Chills and muscle twitching
• [ ] Insomnia
• [ ] Weight loss

In the past 3/4 years I've noticed a total explosion in popularity of Neville Goddard's teachings, it's quite regular
It's always one core lie under different disguises, it doesn't really matter if it is Neville Goddard, Bob Proctor, Joseph Murphy, Joe Dispenza, Florence Scovel-Shinn and God knows who else, for there are hundreds of these snake-oil salesmen
These teachings are the cheapest form of spirituality, usually people come in contact with them as soon as they start a path of "self-improvement"
What they really lead to is self-destruction, loss and confusion
The more you read them the more you'll be lost and confused, consequently you'll grow more and more dependent on them, you'll probably jump from book to book, from author to author in a desperate search
This is because they are instigating a lie in you, and that lie Is "I am in control, I have power, I can find completion, happiness and satisfacion in this world and it within my responsibility to find them"
What these "teachings" do is only enhance your sense of separation, deprivation and lack, they are popular by design, because Ego feeds on these doctrines
They are popular in the world because they are of the world