Part 14.3

Heracles VS Lernaean Hydra

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

Link to schedule

Welcome!

Almost caught up this week! Check back in a little bit for the rest (including questions), I'll try to prioritize it. And apologies, in advance, for the stench of meat and burnt hair.

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 9 - Finding Words

Tenar goes to the lord manor during the haying, she talks with the workers there and they view the leather capped man, Handy, as shifty but with nothing wrong particularly. They are reticent to talk to her or anyone else however. She runs across the wizard from before, Aspen, and it turns sour quickly after a real poor showing from him. As she leaves he starts to attack her magically, but is interrupted just in time from the king's men from Havnor. They stop him but are still cordial to him, politics as usual. Tenar gives the men some information about Ged and thankfully they aren't reproachful, when Ged doesn't get back to them they accept this and sail off. Tenar finds little reason to stay around but it would hurt to leave so she just keeps Therru closer than ever, and the days pass. Aunty Moss looks into it and there's a rumor that the wizard from Roke, Aspen, was contacted after the death of the grandson's mother, and the wizard supposely was helping keep the grandfather alive by siphoning the youth's life force. Therru is actually doing pretty good, she gets some interesting toys and even started to learn a trade. Tenar worries about what Ogion said about "teaching" however and one afternoon tries to teach Therru about the true word for "stone", but something slightly odd yet poignant happens. That night, Tenar is wracked with anxieties and evil thoughts, she even bolts from bed and throws down countersigns for a curse. There's a weird smell in the house. The next day she picks up some fabric in town with Therru and is attacked with a shower of stones ("stones" again). Arriving back at the house it is apparent somebody was there. Furthermore, her thinking gets really muddled, she relies on Kargish to get through what's likely a curse. They abandon the desecrated place but not before watering Therru's peach tree and taking Ogion's great books (dumping the fabric in the process). They stay off the main road and the words (Hardic and true) slowly come back to her, she even picks up a stone, says its true name, and carries it. They arrive in Gont Port and the plan is to camp in a forest but instead they run into the leather capped man. They flee to a Havnor ship and are stopped by a sailor. The leather capped man, Handy, first says he wanted to help them (like he helped alert the women to Therru when she was burned) and grabs Therru, breaking Tenar's promise that he would never touch her. A younger sailor arrives, and Handy switches his strategy, suddenly Tenar is a witch that has stolen his niece. The young sailor lets her on the deck while he looks into things and Tenar collapses, begging them not to let him take her, not to let "them" have her, not again, not again.
In-depth Summary

Chapter 10 - Dolphin

Tenar comes around from exhaustion, and promptly realizes the young sailor is actually King Lebannen (aka Arren from the last book). They were actually seeking her out and thought maybe she came there because she had heard this. Lebannen agrees to take her to her old farm in Middle Valley on Gont. Therru is put to bed by the king and Tenar relays the terrible things that have befallen them, particularly with Therru which is worse than what's been outright stated. Tenar feels they will be safe where they are going, and she talks to Labannen about Ged instead. Of particular note is that Tenar claims people of ill will are after him, there's also a comparison drawn between the land of the dead's mountain, Pain, its stone, Tenar's stone, and Ged's damaged hands. Ged needs healing and has lost his patience, to be replaced with self-reproachment. The next morning, Therru is hard to rouse, she might be in fever and the place where Handy has grabbed her is noticeably marked. On the high prow Tenar meets in particular the Master Windkey of Roke Island, who actually trained Ged as a child. Unfortunately, Tenar finds him close-minded to her throughout this chapter in various ways. A very weathered sailor presents Therru a carved ivory or bone dolphin, which Therru puts with her other dolls, but even now she doesn't thank the man (she leaves that to Tenar) and she retires soon after. Tenar goes back to the king and the weatherworker and they talk about their search for a new archmage. It's mentioned Thorion from the last book has perished which is one of the reasons the king was there on Roke. The wizards congregate in the Grove and eventually the Master Patterner says in Kargish, "A woman on Gont." Nothing else is known, but they did remember Tenar's adventures, so here they are. The mage asks her if she would lead them to anyone (nope), or if she knew of any woman it might be (also nope). Tenar tries to mention the evils as of late (the gangs, what happened with Therru, the wizards' and witches' power lessening or changing, even the wizard's influence changing with the new kingship) but is ignored, the Master Windkey says the wizard's power structure and art will be healed (over a long time) now that Cob from the last book is defeated. After the Master Windkey leaves Tenar and Lebannen have a bit of shorthand, she implies that the woman might be Therru, at leaast one day. Tenar relays her immediate plans and Labannen says he'll visit if he can. Also, he will forbid the wizards from bothering Ged.
In-depth Summary

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

Chapter 9 - Finding Words
Tenar arrives at the haying and asks the women about the leather capped man. Nobody is sure why he, Handy, isn't there, but they view his kind as shiftless so that's no surprise. After she mentions the child the workers, being weary of the villagers let alone Ogion's apprentice, move on.
Tenar heads to the road and comes across Aspen, the wizard from before. He asks if she's there for work, and Goha is sure he says this not because he doesn't recognize her from before but more as an insult or warning. Tenar instead says she was going to warn the overseer that they had hired a thief known to her village. It takes him awhile to answer that he doesn't know about the hirelings, and Tenar suddenly realizes he seems older and more wizened than appearances. Suddenly he calls her a witch, a gossip, and a liar, and that he should have punished her over the incident with Ogion's body, and also, about Therru, that, "[t]he man did well who tried to destroy that creature, but the job should be completed." He says, "'Have you understood me?' 'No,' Tenar said. 'I have never understood men like you.'" She leaves down the road, but gets a static sensation and turns to see the wizard gathering dark lightning with his staff and started to speak a curse (she has a realization that because Ged has lost his power she kind of superimposed this on all others).
Two of the men from Havnor interrupt this, ostensibly (and, unfortunately, as a bit of a faux pas) to stop Aspen. They address her very cordially, at least one of them with honor, referencing her past deeds with the Ring. "'Ah,' said Tenar, flustered and warmed right through--'there’s all kinds of power in the world!--Thank you.'" She wasn't sure if the wizard knew of this or not, but it doesn't matter, as he hates her, as he hates Therru, because she is a woman. She thanks the envoys, in particular by giving them the information that Ged will need time but will get back to them, and draws positive comparison to them and the new order by the new King: "There was indeed a king upon that throne, and in his crown the chiefest jewel would be the Rune of Peace." She in particular was quite fond of the younger one which showed her particular reverence... though on turning back she is a bit sad to find (unfortunately, understandably) that they are chatting with the wizard as if nothing happened.
The men stay a few days and leave without contacting Ged, and Tenar finds some difficulty in a reason to stay around, particularly with Aspen the wizard and Handy the leather capped man now quite openly a threat. She feels like in leaving though she will lose the last bit of Ogion less, and on top of that "...she thought, 'I will never dream of the sky, down there.' Here, where Kalessin had come, she was Tenar, she thought. Down in Middle Valley she would only be Goha again." She doesn't let Therru out of her sight, and the days pass.
After being told everything, Aunty Moss had put out feelers in the acquaintances at the manor (after all, she was a healer and whatnot and so had some heft). A tale emerges that the younger lord, the grandson, had become sick and withered following the death of his mother, and oddly instead of seeking out Ogion or healers they sent for a wizard from Roke. Something a bit more than a rumor emerges, that they had been keeping women away from the manor and that the wizard was working on keeping the old lord, probably more than a century old, immortal off of the grandson's life. There's such a "let it be" attitude in the village that even Aunty Moss doesn't outright call it an evil (though she does think it'll all go wrong). Tenar had started asking villagers about Handy, the leather capped man, including if he left the area or not, but only received vague, uncommitted replies in return. Tenar was generally viewed as an outsider and uncordially by all but Fan, the old weaver.
Therru was kept close by, though she seemed to like this "...as a much younger child [might], working with her or playing. Her play was with cat's cradle, basket making, and with a couple of bone figures that Tenar had found in a little grass bag on one of Ogion's shelves.... To Tenar they had no sense of power or danger about them, and Moss said, 'Just toys.' To Therru they were a great magic. She moved them about in the patterns of some silent story for hours at a time...." She also learned to spin wool into yarn. Tenar felt like she wasn't "teaching all" like Ogion had said, though the Goha part of her said that the more homely arts, and the wisdom behind general good living, were true arts in themselves. One afternoon Tenar tries to to Therru the true name of a stone, but then (for a specific reason, after Therru mouths the name) she thinks it's just not time yet for it. Instead, she teaches her a fable that Lark had thought their children together, of Andaur, a woodcutter who cut down an oak tree that had a human voice, and Avad. Once again, "As long ago as forever, as far away as Selidor..."
That night, however, Tenar is wracked with anxieties while trying to sleep. These start general but get more and more specific and dark (supernatural, even) that Tenar wakes, makes a countersign, then springs from bed and yells, "'You come too late, Aspen. I was eaten long ago. Go clean your own house!' There was no answer, no sound, but a faint, sour, vile smell of burning-singed cloth or hair." She sets Ogion's staff on the door, checks on Therru, and does not sleep that night. The next day they visit the village to sell their yarn to Fan, and a curious incident happens where Tenar is pelted by stones as if by rain (there are some boys hiding about). Tenar starts to get shaky, and when they arrive at the house it's apparent someone was there: "It smelled of burned meat and hair. The coverlet of their bed had been disarranged." She realizes a spell had been put on her, it was no coincidence that the same word she had tried teaching Tenar was thrown back at her. Even her thoughts seem to turn against her, and to combat this she tries to think in Kargish. It's like she's contacting her old self, Arha the dark priestess, who reacted last night and knew curses and knew how to live in (or with) darkness. Tenar realizes she must leave, and a somewhat funny (in a way) incident happens with Heather (she tries to give her the goats and to keep up the household in other ways) where the words she wants to say only come out as insults. She gestures to Therru to come in the house to prepare to leave, and Therru poignantly reacts to the stench in the house. Amongst the activity a couple things are interesting, Tenar makes Therru water the peach, and Tenar empties her fabric to make room for (Ogion's, Ged's, "Hers") three great books instead of leaving them in the desecrated place. They take the staves Tenar had carved, leave Ogion's in the dark corner, and leave with "...the door of the house wide open to the wind from the sea."
They leave, instinctually she bypasses the main road, as if she met Aspen on the way she'd be lost. A mile away she knows she choose well, the words (Hardic and true) come back to her, first the true word for "stone", then "Kalessin", then she feels better. On the way to Gont Port, Tenar is thrilled to see a ship driven by magewind. A small segment here about the few towns Tenar has visited. Fifteen miles they had traveled (Therru steadfast, but certainly tired) when they come across a gate with two stone dragons surrounding it. Surprised by a guard (they guard city gates? What do they keep out?) she unwittingly does a perfect imitation of Heather and the guard, bored, lets them through. Gont Port is a living cacophony and Therru is transfixed. They travel along southward, the plan possibly to camp in a forest, when Therru alerts Tenar that the man in the leather cap is there. He spots them, pauses, and they run. They arrive at the docks and they are past their limit. Tenar asks a sailor if this is a ship from Havnor. It is, but he can't let her on it.
Suddenly, the man in the leather cap, Handy, appears behind her. He entreats her that she didn't have to flee, he was the one that got aid for Therru, and he wants to help them. "He put out his hand as if drawn irresistibly to touch Therru. Tenar could not move. She had promised Therru that he would never touch her again. She saw the hand touch the child’s bare, flinching arm." Suddenly a younger sailor (it seems to be Tenar's son for a moment) appears and asks what Handy wants with them. Handy says Tenar took his niece, "witched it", and ran off with her. She pleads the sailor to let her board and the sailor takes her to the deck and tells Handy to wait there. Tenar collapses, "...dropping the heavy sack but clinging to the child. 'Don't let him take her, oh, don't let them have her, not again, not again, not again!'"

So unlike a lot of my usual posts, this one is going to be more selfish, negative, and not as constructive. I just have a lot of feelings about the way this subreddit has progressively become hostile towards Rose, not just as a hero in the game, but as a viable and justified way to play the game. I won’t fault anyone that thinks Rose is annoying or toxic (I can agree with that), but I feel like people take their feelings against her too far
Also, a warning for ahead; swearing, aggressive language, and hyperbole
With that all being said, OH MY GOD do you people hate Rose too much. Is she annoying? Sure. Is she good? Yeah. Is she impossible to play against? Not by a long shot. Are the people who play her on ladder even good at the game? Hell no
Whenever I see people complaining about her online, it’s always about the most mediocre, tired points. Freeze is broken, heal is broken, legendary cards are broken, etc, etc. Except I know what you people are losing to, and I can confidently say that it’s a massive skill issue. Granted, the game doesn’t teach you how to play against her decks. When I see the same few people always talking about this hero like she’s the anti-christ, though, I find it strange that none of you would at least have a clue on how to play against her. I assume that you play against Rose enough to complain about her, so not thinking to counter the game plan that she always goes for is kind of stupid
Ladder Rose players don’t even run optimal decks. I mean, freeze? Really? Are we really so backwards as to go back to complaining about freeze decks? And the heal decks they run are bricky as hell. They crumble against cards like Zomblob and Cowboy, or even just any environments. Or god forbid someone play an aggro deck and win before they can even do anything. I also see people complaining about her legendary cards, and while that justified to some extent, the cards people praise and/or complain about are so fucking mid. DMD is expensive as hell, Aloesaurus is slow and weak, Astrovera isn’t even worth its price, and Winter Melon just sucks. There’s so little to complain about outside of Cob Cannon and maybe Lima Pleurodon, the former of which people for some reason don’t run half of the time? It’s like just seeing a legendary card is enough for some of you to complain about it
Finally, and this is a **BIG, IMPORTANT ISSUE THAT I WANT TO ADDRESS*\, is that some people in this community *actually attack others for playing this character. So much harassment is thrown at anyone who even plays something shitty with Rose. People on this subreddit don’t just hate Rose, they don’t allow anyone to like her, and then harass and shame the few people who do in spite of their bias. You can’t even ask for advice on Rose without some rude-ass comments towards OP, which is probably a new low for this community’s awful deck advice
One community member I want to talk about is diseasion, who’s been uploading fun, well edited posts about Rose. More specifically, they like to play freeze and control decks. Every single one of diseasion’s freeze posts has death threats directed at them, whether it be telling diseasion to kill themselves or threatening to hurt diseasion themselves, and so many more of diseasion's posts have people complaining about their content. I find that both upsetting and disturbing. It’s not enough that people want to harass “Rose players”, but you can’t even run run something like GS Freeze or Carrotina Control without people posting some tacky reaction image as a threat
If you skipped to the end, let it be known that I don’t even play Rose. Most “meta” heroes aren’t the ones I play, and I’d much rather enjoy heroes like Neptuna and Spudow that have more interesting and fun decks for me to play. However, that doesn’t mean that I’ll just sit idly while people get harassed out of our community over something as trivial as playing Rose to any extent
As a community, can we at least acknowledge that we’re taking this too far?

The Man From Earth.
(TLDR Version): rock solid, well worth the watch, great acting and story telling. Had me begging for more. 9.5/10.
Review. I absolutely loved The Man From Earth. The comments that call it a “Masterpiece” are not far off. Given it is a low budget movie taking place in largely the same room, it just goes to show how far solid acting and superb story telling can go. The main character portrays John Oldman, the 14,000 year old man superbly. The convorsation seems authentic, though there are moments where you can tell it is a low budget film. The questions and explanations that are asked and given by the characters seem so convincing, you almost believe the main character John Oldman may really exist.
The first movie takes place in a cabin, during a going away party for the main character John Oldman. John reveals to his close friends and colleagues that he is 14,000 years old and most of the movie are his friends and confidents trying to wrestle with that fact. The cast is predominantly middle aged men, a few women, and older adults. Making the setting mature and thoughtful as the adults are all professors from various fields at his university.
A great example of the authentic feel of the film is this when one character asks John where he was during a specific date in the 1200s, John responds by asking if she remembers what exactly she was doing at any specific date decades prior. The obvious answer is she doesn’t remember and neither does he. No one would remember something like that offhand which is a very human response. The off and on reaction from the group as they accept or reject Johns story, I feel mimics how any other rational person may react if they were in the same situation. That is true art in my opinion. Crafting a wonderful sci story that captures people minds because it just seems so real, yet mystical at the same time.
The critique that I do have is largely that you can tell it is a low budget film. There are moments where the acting is forced. There is a scene when one of the characters pulls a gun on John, being rather upset that John would go to such lengths to claim immortality while so many in the world have died. It is soon revealed that the character who pulled the gun had lost is wife the day before. I didn’t care for the scene. Though it does portray the skepticism and possible anger that close friends might feel when their trusted, charismatic, and reliable friend suddenly sounds like a mad man and sticks to it. The ending is solid. Leaving room to expand, though wrapping things up enough to where it could’ve easily stood on its own.
At about an hour and a half long, I highly recommend The Man From Earth to anyone. 9.5/10.
The Man From Earth: Holocene.
(TLDR Version) Stands well as a sequel. Didn’t quite capture all the magic of the original. Targets a younger audience. Worth a watch if you saw the first one. 7.5/10.
Full Review. In my opinion if you enjoyed the concept and the main actor in the original, you will still find those things done well in the second. While the first stood out phenomenally as an original standalone movie. The second, acts well as a sequel though you wouldn’t watch it on its own and find the same enjoyment. The 2nd movie takes place 10 years later where John Oldman now calls himself John Young and teaches at a different university under a new identity. John also comes to the realization that for the first time in 14,000 years, he has begun to age. Rather then the movie focusing on a room of adults asking tough intellectual questions, the movie follows four college students who are students of John’s.
The students discover Johns secret after reading a book published by someone who was with John in the previous movie and wrote a book about John’s life and story from that night. The students start to connect the dots, and come to believe Johns fantastical story after doing some research and calling people from his past to corroborate the information.
The acting isn’t quite as good and feels a little more like a teen drama. According to my research, the hope was that the sequel would turn in to a TV spin-off, which is fairly obvious at the end. Though if they kept it to one, MAYBE 2 seasons I think it could do well with.
The last third of the sequel is where it gets a little forced, rushed, and weird. The characters start acting erratic, like the movie is trying to take you somewhere it’s not meant to. While I’m not as critical as some, I certainly see why this is an issue. I’m not saying they shouldn’t have made a sequal, though the last third of it makes me wish they hadn’t bothered.
The ending is a cliffhanger, where an ominous FBI agent shows up at the door of the character who was in the first movie and wrote the book about John’s life. Then that’s it.
While the first movie is a flavorful, well written story, the second feels like a lengthy teen drama TV show.
That being said if you enjoyed the first then please enjoy the second. Just recognize it for what it is. Frankly, the story will stick with me forever as I thoroughly enjoy the concept and may decide to write my own version for the heck of it. 7.5/10. Though the high rating is simply because the first is so worth the watch.

This is going to be long winded, but I want to get this off my chest to an audience who can more so relate. I really just need to vent too because I have been so go-go-go in my life & I haven’t gotten much chance to talk about this.
I’ve been a traveler since covid, and had planned to stay that way due to enjoying that I basically got to see the parts of the country that I wanted to see. Life was great then. I could take as much time off as I wanted, never had to deal with unit drama, pay made sense for my single, no-tie-downs situation. Then, depression hit.
In short, last Sept-December I spiraled in to this deep, intense sadness feeling that I’ve never felt before. I was back home to enjoy being around but I was being toyed around by my now ex-best friend/roommate, and the girl I was falling for. Eventually I finally confirmed my suspicion and they had been sleeping with each other while I was gone on contract. Lost a bunch of weight, depression hit, calling out of work/leaving early a lot, started having gastritis like symptoms. I used Toradol a little more than the bottle said cause my shoulder injury & I clearly just wasnt thinking. Had a scope done to confirm that. Theres a lot more details I am leaving out unless anyone wants to know, but I finally cut ties with both of them. One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I moved out to live with a guy a graduated with & that really helped me get myself back.
I started another contract this past March in the PNW. I love hiking, snowboarding, biking, etc. Just being active is like my thing. The depression started slowly sinking in again. I felt like i had no time to breathe on my very few days off. My schedule was preventing me from going off and getting far out to do hikes that werent in the immediate, one hour radius. Theres too many damn people here for my taste. Traffic nearly all the time, nearby trails are always flooded with people. One day, i woke up before work just not feeling right. Emotions were intense, but i went into work anyway. My stomach symptoms were coming back, and I’m stressing out about it. I dont want pills to mask symptoms, i want to know the root cause. I drive myself mad researching how to identify this without having to spend multiple DR appointments doing. The major causes arent applicable to me. Im 29, healthy body weight, rarely eat junk food, active, dont smoke/drink, etc. Im fighting back tears at work for weeks now. Coworkers have started noticing.
I panicked and called in sick for a handful of days and drove to see a best friend of mine that i met while on a previous contract. I need to make a change in my life. This travel stuff isnt worth the headaches anymore. I’m tired of having to fight for my paychecks all the time. Tired of the isolation, the loneliness. I want to start dating someone but thats difficult. I want upward career growth, but not really possible being a traveler. He offers to let me move into his spare bedroom for cheap. i applied to a few non-bedside jobs and one of them seems very promising with chances of growth. More of a healthy lifestyle approach to nursing which sounds right up my alley.
Now i dont want to go back to my contract. I drove back yesterday, went to the manager, was honest about everything, and quit right there. Ive been beaming since! Im excited to turn a chapter in my life, and start living in an area i know i love. No longer having to deal with hospital BS sounds great. Y’all wish me luck!

I was in the gym and all the students were sitting on the bleachers. I guess a teacher was making us do exercises so there'd be items passed around that we'd have to use but we could also use them to prank someone or to use it for good.
I threw one of the items back, I think it was an egg and it hit this girl who's really pretty but a supreme bitch. She began to hold a grudge against me and we were both assigned to a new class together.
In the class, the room was L-shaped and in the smallest corner was a giant round table where a dozen students sat. The teacher was trying to teach a lesson about drug use and dangerous items and brought up the herb vervain (which was portrayed as a drug in the dream). This guy, who was my friend, gets up to practice how to appropriately act when presented with drugs, but he pulls out a needle, injects the vervain into his bloodstream and began seizing.
The teacher then had a "group discussion" where we all had to repeat a phrase, but depending who began the chant, they would be able to take control of everyone else. The girl who had a grudge towards me then decided to being the chant, and being forced by the teacher as if I was a troubled teen, I started saying the phrase.
My eyes rolled back and turned pure white, and I could feel my freedom being taken away as if it was part of my soul. I was now a slave. Her slave.
One of the hot, mean guys had the same thing going for him. He was dating my "master".
Now in the arctic, the hot guy was being controlled by the girl still and he developed a grudge against her because his girlfriend wouldn't give his freedom back. I escaped when she got far enough that her reach cut off and as I was running I bumped into the guy who also seemed to have escaped.
"I remember you.. I think we can help each other. It's clear you don't like her and I don't like her anymore" he told me. "Oh and by the way, the name's Cole." He left his hand out for me to shake but I was in too much shock for the action to register in my head.
He brought me to some kind of base and I was in a cellar with some kind of animal resembling small pigs with horns, not tusks, coming from behind their ears. The pig-like creatures were in crates with their eyes and bodies all white and faces forward. They had colorful tribal markings all over their body and were known kind of as minions, and were the most common slave pets. They are always in possession of the controller but if they don't have anyone to be attached to then they're dormant - standing in one spot staring at nothing. Some of them might occasionally twitch their ear or blink their eyes but without a human touch, they will stay frozen.
I saw the pigs before but I've never had one or been close to one. I moved my hand towards the horn, just for a feel, and the pig's head snapped towards me. Their mind control link had been activated and the pig started telepathically alerting it's master.. but it was in my head. "I love you, master." ... "What do you need me to do, master?" ... "Do you even know, master?" ... ... ... "ARE YOU STUPID?" The pig turned crazy and began rushing at me. "YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE TOUCHED ME."
A little girl comes in, her eyes pure white. She was just a slave, the poor child, repeating the same phrase over and over. "I will go home. Chay-Ara will take me home. Chay-ara loves me. I love Chay-Ara." She took one step closer. "I will go home. Chay-Ara will take me home. Chay-ara loves me. I love Chay-Ara." Another step closer. "I will go home. Chay-Ara will take me home. Chay-ara loves me. I love Chay-Ara." "I will go home. Chay-Ara will take me home. Chay-ara loves me. I love Chay-Ara..." I could feel the freedom drip off my lips as I was lured into the same prison I was in before, lured into Chay-Ara.. but something was different.

I was more conscious of my surroundings, and had decent control of myself. Maybe my immunity to her control lessened after the first time when I managed to break free.

Being back under her "control", I lead her to the base I was at and Cole and I planned to kill her. Set the place ablaze while she was stuck wandering around trying to find me. He and I ran out a hidden door in the basement where the pigs were stored and we ran off, my freewill seeping back into me and her curdling screams heard from the distance.

Hey! Seeking opinions on an issue. I (38F) am in a debate with my husband (49M) because I recently took a family member to Planned Parenthood and acquired 2 condoms. They’re now in my purse and I told him I want to keep them there in case a situation comes up where I would/could give them to someone.
Long version- I’m a registered nurse and very sex Ed positive, meaning I have meaningful conversations with friends, family, and strangers about sex and sexual health. SO knows this, I’ve started a podcast even about sexual education, kinks, fetishes, sex and aging, STI prevention and safety, etc. We were “swingers” but have stopped swinging since we got married. The condoms aren’t the size my husband could use. He’s asked me to throw the condoms away because he fears I may use them myself and he doesn’t see why I would need to carry condoms around for other people in some hypothetical situation. I’ve told him I won’t use them and condoms in my purse don’t make me more likely to cheat. If someone wanted to cheat condoms are generally readily available. I used to always carry condoms around similarly to carrying tampons and pads and bandaids (which I also carry) not for myself but for others that may have a need, and being that I’m very adament about sexual health and STI prevention I enjoy being about to “have the thing if needed”. Also worth noting for context, I was unfaithful to him 2 1/2 years ago one night while out of state before we were married when our relationship was falling apart, which he knows and we’ve had extensive couples and individual therapy about.
AITAH for not throwing them out? Thanks!

Hello, fairly new into the homelab adventure.
Did my initial tests with an old desktop PC I had lying around, which did the job, but I didn't really feel like doubling the power consumption of my server rack.
My goal is to have a machine to run "essential" services, eventually in High Availability, e.g. Home Assistant, Bitwarden, and the required services to access those from outside the local network (ddns, traefik, adguard home (for local dns resolution, as Unifi is surprisingly lacking in that area)), all on a Proxmox base.
This device is NOT going to be a NAS or media server, as this will handled by a separate machine.
I settled on buying an 8GB Zima board (yes I know people have opinions about these, that's not the topic), which worked fine for what I had planned for it until I realised I needed to run a few more containers than I expected. My bad for not doing thorough enough testing.
So now I'm looking into upgrade options, thinking 8 cores and 16 GB of RAM will meet my needs. I have no prejudice against mini-PCs, and I have no problem with building my own pc if that turns out to be the best option.
My main criterion is power-efficiency, and while upfront costs are not really an issue, I'd like to keep them down where reasonable as I'll want to build a second node.
From what I've see, thinking N300/N305 might be the sweet spot, but they seem hard to find.
Does anyone have experience with those or have alternative suggestion in the same ballpark?
Thanks in advance.

I have always found I have a very clear split when it comes to expressing a thought or feeling to others. The more intimate a situation is the more I struggle. I tend to use information as a form of communication which in I teaching setting is incredibly useful, but in a situation like what I am in now, not so much. I have a close family member who is dying. The decision was made to put them on hospice. I have some degree of medical knowledge, but not a significant more than the average person. However I have found others in the family seem to lean on me to explain things (blood work, scans) that they didn't feel clear after speaking with a physician or nurse. This morning however I was presented with a question and I really screwed up. I was asked to explain why on hospice they wouldn't use an IV to help with fluid intake since they are becoming significantly dehydrated. So I explained that it was to make them more comfortable during the dying process because as the body shuts down the fluids no longer hydrate but create edema, cause the heart to pump harder and fluid collects in the lungs. The look on my family members face was tragic and their response was, ' So they DROWN!?!' It broke me. I was just trying to help, not hurt. What can or could I do differently? I have tried to say, 'maybe call the doctonurse/hospice and they could explain it better than I can but that hasn't been sufficient. Suggestions? I really don't want to make a very painful situation worse.

Hi friends, I’m back with the daily dose of anxiety and pestering you guys with my questions!
I’m 35, AMH 0.86, AFC 7, in my first stim cycle. I went in for my monitoring appointment this morning (stim day 10, have completed 9 days of Follistim and 5 days of Ganirelix, also took Clomid).
Here is my progression. These are my follicles and measurements in millimeters:
•Today, stim day 10, right: 24, 18, 14, 14, 11, 11, 10
•Today, stim day 10, left: 16, 11
•Monday, stim day 8, right: 19, 15, 11, 11, 9, 8
•Monday, stim day 8, left: 13, 9
•Friday, stim day 5, right: 13, 11, 8, 7
•Friday, stim day 5, left: 9
They’re expecting the 24mm on the right to not be present once it’s showtime. They’ll let me know later what the plan is, but my nurse is guesstimating that I’ll trigger tomorrow night and retrieve Saturday (today is Wednesday).
Does anyone else have any success stories with these types of numbers? I know the nurse was trying to curb my expectations, but she said she was thinking I’d probably only have 4-5 eggs to retrieve, even with these numbers.
Thank you all, and I wish you all lots of luck with whatever stage you are in!