Our storage room is a mess and hasn’t been cleaned in years. I’m slowly trying to go through it and throw out the trash and see what is usable and work keeping. I found an activity for mitosis/meiosis that uses beads to simulate the chromosomes that I’ve slowly been adapting. The boxes were unopened so I assumed they were semi new. Looking at the provided worksheet today I noticed the copyright date: 1999. Not sure what’s more shocking, that the boxes have sat unopened for that long in our storage room or that this activity is almost as old as I am. Though it has nothing on the book from the 70s I found while cleaning a room that was built 15 years ago.

Roll a d100 for each column to get a name, or at least a prompt. If you can't make it make sense, choose a name, or re-roll for a column that frustrates you.
This was inspired by the names of Forerunner AI in Halo, and the ship/AI names in The Culture series ship names were also an influence.
Hopefully some of you find this useful.
Edit: Completed with the four column version. Also, thank you for the reward, kind stranger!

d100 Improved Cryptic Magical Artifact or Intelligent Weapon Namer

1.	Cognizant	Black	Death	Bringer
2.	Cautious	Green	Hell	Smiter
3.	Oblivious	Red	Glory	Singer
4.	Informed	Blue	Justice	Ringer
5.	Guilty	Yellow	Honor	Rider
6.	Courageous	White	Light	Shedder
7.	Penitent	Silver	Sun	Downer
8.	Wholesome	Golden	Moon	Summoner
9.	Antithalian	Brassy	Fire	Walker
10.	Soothing	Lavender	Hell	Blighter
11.	Understanding	Pink	Dawn	Bringer
12.	Serendipitious	Orange	Dusk	Faller
13.	Slantindicular	Tan	Night	Shredder
14.	Raucous	Teal	Day	Breaker
15.	Persuasive	Chatreuse	Stone	Splitter
16.	Amplifying	Maroon	Rage	Lacer
17.	Advocating	Navy	Terror	Reaver
18.	Virtuous	Indigo	Memory	Stealer
19.	Cunning	Ultraviolet	Hope	Dasher
20.	Sinister	Plaid	Sorrow	Drowner
21.	Querelous	Burgundy	Oblivion	Caller
22.	Affable	Olive	Soul	Render
23.	Genial	Grey	Destiny	Ender
24.	Disgruntled	Herringbone	Fate	Stopper
25.	Preternatural	Chevron	Celestial	Piercer
26.	Mischevous	Caning	Infernal	Fright
27.	Hyperbolic	Argyle	Dream	Weaver
28.	Wretched	Giraffe	Nightmare	Breeder
29.	Exuberant	Circlelink	Blood	Spiller
30.	Radiant	Honeycomb	Rainbow	Tracer
31.	Occluded	Flamestitch	Life	Maker
32.	Oblique	Trellis	Humor	Killer
33.	Direct	Ombre	Thought	Halter
34.	Ascending	Zebra	Vengeance	Seeker
35.	Descending	Scaled	Fae	Raider
36.	Strange	Paisley	Law	Plunderer
37.	Charming	Houndstooth	Chaos	Ravager
38.	Occular	Camouflaged	Order	Looter
39.	Tactile	Chipped	Void	Harbinger
40.	Arbitrary	Crisp	Bliss	Herald
41.	Articulate	Worn	Peace	Envoy
42.	Exhausted	Skewering	War	Creeper
43.	Jaded	Cutting	Harmony	Grazer
44.	Naive	Pummeling	Discord	Ripper
45.	Disintegrating	Sawtoothed	Charity	Mangler
46.	Calcifying	Straight	Battle	Puncturer
47.	Normative	Curved	Truce	Butcher
48.	Divergent	Serrated	Flight	Seeker
49.	Deviant	Striped	Slumber	Heart
50.	Majestic	Elegant	Impetus	Backer
51.	Imposing	Elaborate	Society	Blossom
52.	Monumental	Blurry	Homeland	Burster
53.	Obtuse	Hazy	Chance	Ward
54.	Equilatoral	Scalding	Thunder	Trigger
55.	Acute	Warm	Lightning	Executor
56.	Delectable	Cold	Rune	Impetus
57.	Minty	Chilling	Strength	Antecedant
58.	Gracious	Stipled	Epitome	Tangent
59.	Humble	Porous	Sloth	Bisector
60.	Abominable	Asymmetric	Glutiny	Asymptote
61.	Corrupt	Crystaline	Pride	Aura
62.	Cynical	Opaque	Lust	Focus
63.	Convival	Transparent	Envy	Mandate
64.	Intellectual	Translucent	Sapience	Incinerator
65.	Gregarious	Howling	Regal	Extractor
66.	Graceful	Whispering	Kaiju	Mitosis
67.	Forceful	Mewling	Reason	Deducer
68.	Unyielding	Babbling	Computation	Bifurcator
69.	Imperative	Sparkling	Protocol	Inducer
70.	Dangerous	Chromatic	Lion	Demolisher
71.	Condemned	Brilliant	Wolf	Deconstructor
72.	Elegant	Matte	Tiger	Penitence
73.	Epistemological	Irridescent	Dragon	Extrudor
74.	Grotesque	Gleaming	Wyvern	Auditor
75.	Fortuitous	Humming	Gryphon	Anesthetizer
76.	Reprehensible	Gilded	Chimera	Resuscitator
77.	Ambitious	Prickly	Goat	Dominator
78.	Biased	Ivory	Moose	Orthogonal
79.	Rational	Bone	Elephant	Spanghewer
80.	Responsible	Rusty	Eagle	Consopitor
81.	Demanding	Velvet	Swan	Averuncator
82.	Generous	Spongy	Fox	Suppressor
83.	Copious	Furry	Nautical	Opener
84.	Authentic	Snakeskin	Shark	Facilitator
85.	Compulsive	Sharkskin	Magma	Teacher
86.	Complacent	Hemp	Factor	Accelerator
87.	Difficult	Leather	Stimulus	Booster
88.	Affectionate	Ceramic	Fleshment	Refiner
89.	Poetic	Rowan	Saga	Container
90.	Binary	Chestnut	Personification	Scrutinizor
91.	Fluid	Mahoganey	Calamity	Disperser
92.	Abrasive	Bejeweled	Demon	Concentrator
93.	Accentuated	Spiny	Antipelargy	Dispatcher
94.	Resonant	Floral	Frontier	Orchestrator
95.	Immovable	Metallic	Primer	Unifier
96.	Unstoppable	Lacey	Acme	Discoverer
97.	Moral	Smooth	Nadir	Mentor
98.	Narcissistic	Thorny	Angel	Diagnoser
99.	Industrious	Ridged	Idiom	Successor
100.	Invigorating	Beaded	Metaphor	Warden

d100 Almost Original Cryptic Magical Artifact or Intelligent Weapon Namer

1.	Cognizant	Death	Bringer
2.	Cautious	Hell	Smiter
3.	Oblivious	Glory	Singer
4.	Informed	Justice	Ringer
5.	Guilty	Honor	Rider
6.	Courageous	Light	Shedder
7.	Penitent	Sun	Downer
8.	Wholesome	Moon	Summoner
9.	Antithalian	Fire	Walker
10.	Soothing	Hell	Blighter
11.	Understanding	Dawn	Bringer
12.	Serendipitious	Dusk	Faller
13.	Slantindicular	Night	Shredder
14.	Raucous	Day	Breaker
15.	Persuasive	Stone	Splitter
16.	Amplifying	Rage	Lacer
17.	Advocating	Terror	Reaver
18.	Virtuous	Memory	Stealer
19.	Cunning	Hope	Dasher
20.	Sinister	Sorrow	Drowner
21.	Querelous	Oblivion	Caller
22.	Affable	Soul	Render
23.	Genial	Destiny	Ender
24.	Disgruntled	Fate	Stopper
25.	Preternatural	Celestial	Piercer
26.	Mischevous	Infernal	Fright
27.	Hyperbolic	Dream	Weaver
28.	Wretched	Nightmare	Breeder
29.	Exuberant	Blood	Spiller
30.	Radiant	Rainbow	Tracer
31.	Occluded	Life	Maker
32.	Oblique	Humor	Killer
33.	Opaque	Thought	Halter
34.	Direct	Vengeance	Seeker
35.	Transparent	Fae	Raider
36.	Translucent	Law	Plunderer
37.	Howling	Chaos	Ravager
38.	Whispering	Order	Looter
39.	Mewling	Void	Harbinger
40.	Babbling	Bliss	Herald
41.	Articulate	Peace	Envoy
42.	Skewering	War	Creeper
43.	Cutting	Harmony	Grazer
44.	Pummeling	Discord	Ripper
45.	Disintegrating	Charity	Mangler
46.	Calcifying	Battle	Puncturer
47.	Normative	Truce	Butcher
48.	Divergent	Flight	Seeker
49.	Deviant	Slumber	Heart
50.	Majestic	Impetus	Backer
51.	Imposing	Society	Blossom
52.	Monumental	Fatherland	Burster
53.	Sparkling	Chance	Ward
54.	Chromatic	Thunder	Trigger
55.	Brilliant	Lightning	Executor
56.	Delectable	Rune	Impetus
57.	Minty	Strength	Antecedant
58.	Gracious	Epitome	Tangent
59.	Humble	Sloth	Bisector
60.	Abominable	Glutiny	Asymptote
61.	Corrupt	Pride	Aura
62.	Cynical	Lust	Focus
63.	Convival	Envy	Mandate
64.	Intellectual	Sapience	Incinerator
65.	Gregarious	Regal	Extractor
66.	Graceful	Kaiju	Mitosis
67.	Forceful	Reason	Deducer
68.	Unyielding	Computation	Bifurcator
69.	Imperative	Protocol	Inducer
70.	Dangerous	Lion	Demolisher
71.	Condemned	Wolf	Deconstructor
72.	Elegant	Tiger	Penitence
73.	Gleaming	Dragon	Extrudor
74.	Grotesque	Wyvern	Auditor
75.	Fortuitous	Gryphon	Anesthetizer
76.	Reprehensible	Chimera	Resuscitator
77.	Ambitious	Goat	Dominator
78.	Biased	Moose	Orthogonal
79.	Rational	Elephant	Spanghewer
80.	Responsible	Eagle	Consopitor
81.	Demanding	Swan	Averuncator
82.	Generous	Fox	Suppressor
83.	Copious	Nautical	Opener
84.	Authentic	Shark	Facilitator
85.	Compulsive	Magma	Teacher
86.	Complacent	Factor	Accelerator
87.	Difficult	Stimulus	Booster
88.	Affectionate	Fleshment	Refiner
89.	Poetic	Saga	Container
90.	Irridescent	Personification	Scrutinizor
91.	Matte	Calamity	Disperser
92.	Abrasive	Demon	Concentrator
93.	Accentuated	Antipelargy	Dispatcher
94.	Resonant	Agelast	Orchestrator
95.	Immovable	Primer	Unifier
96.	Unstoppable	Acme	Discoverer
97.	Moral	Nadir	Mentor
98.	Narcissistic	Angel	Diagnoser
99.	Industrious	Idiom	Successor
100.	Invigorating	Metaphor	Warden

The siblings were allowed to personalize their rooms with whatever they pleased. Nawith liked to raise ants in his room. They were not so needy or difficult to maintain. An old log here, a fern, rocks, a sponge, and a bone, set in a small tank of dirt, and the little creatures had a home. Every so often he would drop a scrap of wet biomass onto the dirt and within minutes a transmogrifying swarm had surrounded it like a single, writhing entity, no one forager distinguished from the other. They tore the food into chunks and carried it away into their byzantine home. Nawith occasionally clicked at the tank with his porpoid organ to see the corridors of the hive with sound. He admired the intricacy in the winding tunnels and oval chambers in the dirt. The ants, nearly blind and with two hundred thousand or so neurons per, made full use of every cubic centimeter of their enclosure.
They did not speak, they did not see, and as romantic a thought as it would have been: they were not telepathic. The ants simply knew. What to do, where to go. Nawith liked to stare at their movements during his regeneration shift. He listened to the hum of the world as he did so. And if he allowed his heart to slow, his mind to calm, to focus on his auditory sense, he also heard the gentle hum of strings coming from somewhere deep in the heart of the world. When he awoke those thoughts were a faint memory. He and a million brothers and sisters left their rooms, filed in unison to the dressing rooms, and slipped on their uniforms. He kept his eyes on his own morning procedures. If he looked to his neighbors, he would get lost in a forest of mirrors. One face among thousands of the same cheekbones, thin faces, and dravite-yellow eyes.
They entered trams or walked to their stations; there was work to be done. No need to hurry, but no reason to tarry. Nawith took a console just as the previous worker left. It was one of thousands, situated at vertices that traced an incomplete geodesic. At its center, something not of this universe, but not impossible, sloped reality forward. Nawith did not understand it; but one need not comprehend a negative energy tensor to maintain its function.
He minded the station for a number of rotations until boredom grew noticeable, and left it to go to another role. He did not look back; someone had taken his place within a minute of him leaving.
They needed numbers at the reactor bulbs. Something had dwindled the workers there. He arrived, along with a hundred replacements, just in time to witness the cause of the accident. A leak had sprung in the plasma piping. Failsafes sprang to work and under their supervision, the damage was minimized to about a hundred deaths. He saw a brother who made it in one piece, but the damage to his body had been significant. Death would come for him. Nawith was needed. He walked past his dying brother to the empty station. Out of the corner of his eye, two siblings broke into tears, knelt by their dead, and with solemnity carried the body to a faraway place. Nawith felt pressure against his eyes, a wetness. But there was no role in the world that had need for such a function. Nawith closed and opened his eyes several times. That cleared the sensation.
He left that role after a few rotations.
There was a newborn when he happened by the fetalaries. Naturally, he thought to train her. He kept his hand firm, but loose around her fingers as he guided her to where he was first introduced to work. The work that must be done. As the others marched to their stations, he led the newborn down a branching path towards the first job they all had to do. In the first minutes they spent breathing air and not bio-utility fluid the fetalaries nursed to them, they could barely breathe. In his hand, her fingers felt hot. Boiling hot. By the time they were halfway there, her protruded belly had receded and she had gained several centimeters of height. The top of her bald head was now level with his elbow. Nawith left no wake as he walked. The newborn trailed vapor for most of the way. As they walked, she shot glances at the ever narrowing walls, eyes darting, her grip on his hand tight. Nawith had taken them through one turn to another. From stairs to trams. The corridors kept narrowing. Every so often he would stop and point, telling her what it was they were looking at.
“Those are the algexylem tubes,” he said, his arm at a forty or so degree angle up.
“W-What they d-do?” She still shook. Her fine motor neuron clusters had yet to be broken in.
“They confer coolant. Liquid that absorbs heat. Usually water.”
“Wh-where?”
“To the metamaterial corals.” And then he spoke briefly of the phonons. Tiny excitations which were made to course through the superconductive corals, their states ever-changing, the change itself a process. That process became memory. He spoke of nanoglass beads which housed high energy photons—light wave/particles—which had the ability to hold those memories ever so briefly. And finally he mentioned the dense optical cables that ran through the ocean within which the corals grew, ferrying it to the heart of the world.
“Wh-why?”
Admittedly, that stumped him. He had never been asked ‘why’. He himself hadn’t asked it when he was the one standing where she stood. He studied the newborn carefully, upon a sudden aware of how similarly she looked to him. All the siblings looked similar. Identical, actually. The dimorphism was an afterthought. And yet within the hour of her birth she was already unique from him. So he thought of an answer that respected such uniquity.
Nawith raised a hand, extended his index, and tapped her forehead gently.
“Something similar is happening in there. Little electrical blips. Chemicals called neurotransmitters. Axons carrying those blips away.”
“T-To what pur-purpose?”
“This way.”
And they continued the rest of the way. The trek led to a flight of stairs. The higher they climbed, the more the newborn became distressed. Nawith smiled at this; her senses were growing nicely. He was once nauseous at the change in the force keeping his feet to the ground as he climbed those steps. The higher they went, the more the ground seemed to let them go. At his most rebellious he dared to ask ‘Why is there no elevator?’ And the answer, quite simply, was ‘Were you in a hurry?’
So they spent a long time scaling those stairs. Along the way they met many of Nawith’s brothers and sisters. Each had a young sibling with them as well. Nawith looked at his ward, who had now begun to grow a short but dense head of hair. She was getting stronger all the time; her grip on his hand was loosening. She would be finished by the time they reached the top.
There was a hall with many shelves, sporting thousands of black suits with scales and ridges as an outer layer. A package on the back connected the body with tubes and other connections.
“What do I do?” She asked.
“Choose a name.”
She thought long and hard.
“Nirmuta.”
Nawith lowered his forehead so it touched hers. In the second his eyes took to close, memory became incorporeal, skin became channel. His first few years of service flowed into her. Her muscles jittered as new nerves grew explosively, absorbing the memory as though Nirmuta had done this job all her life. It was experience cultivated over lifetimes, polished and perfected. Nirmuta left without another word, donned a free suit like a second skin, and joined the gathering at the far end of the hall. There, thousands of newborns stood on the edge of openings in the floor, below which laid open ocean. Thin, white wisps floated over the concave surface of the water.
When she first woke with her brother’s face bearing over her, she felt the most intense love and longing to follow him. Now with the suit over her skin, she did not look back. She would likely never see him again. And when a light in the ceiling glowed green, she and thousands of her brothers and sisters jumped.
When Nawith first saw his newborn sister, he felt nothing but the most intense love and need to guide her. When he had finished conferring his knowledge, his thoughts returned. He stood back and shook his head. Then Nawith walked away. He would never think of her again.
The job however, he sometimes returned to in memory. Scraping capacitance barnacles off the corals, replacing the old metamaterial wafers that made up most of its mass. They were small enough to work in the crannies between the wafers. They would work there until they grew too large. At regeneration time, he would sleep in those warm waters.
There he had dreamt.
Even then he had heard that melody. The sweet humming. The sound that had a life of its own. He never learned to think about himself, to spectate his own life, until those notes first met his ears. He became more than his tasks while listening to it, and when he outgrew the corals, a sibling commented on his expression, asking, “Are you unwell?” And Nawith could only reply that he felt fine, but something felt missing when he stepped out of that ocean. A comfort that he had heard so very clearly while in water.
Once a rotation they meditated in a bright room usually situated close to a work station, where their skin could metabolize the light into food. He had tried before to sway the topic of conversation to the sound. It was then he learned the dismay of uniquity.
His role now was in many ways simpler than tending to the corals. The world had an immense host of machines that all needed some attention once every so often. For some rotations he tended to the carapace at the edge of the world to make sure it was growing a healthy enough protective layer of ice. If not, he possessed membranes that could feel any excess radiation leaking through. He was familiar with the biomass cristae, those unanchored parts of the world where its workers had to wear propulsion suits to float from place to place. The viscous slurry produced there would feed the oceans, the greenhouses, and the fetalaries. He spent the most rotations maintaining the conduit bronchi, whose breath brought electricity to their entire world. The siblings were to make sure the field generators kept a tight hold on the rivers of metallic hydrogen in the piping.
He met someone named Mei while working there. Mei was much older than him, but Nawith recognized him well enough even behind the wrinkles and slightly drooped eyes. It was a little unnerving to see one’s own future in a way, but fascinating nonetheless. Mei had led the work on maintaining the conduits in that sector for countless rotations.
“Watch that port in the tube,” Mei said during their break.
Nawith looked up. Far, far up in the ceiling, above the immense conduit bundles, was a single algexylem. There was one transparent port in it. Blue water flowed through it silently, then went dark. He squinted his eyes. Something had shadowed against the port: movement, mass. It blinked. He blinked, then scrambled back in shock. He peered again, but the water had returned to normal.
“What was that?!” Nawith asked.
Mei smiled deeply at his response. He waved out at the brothers and sisters making their rounds on the conduits.
“They’re too young to care. But you, you’re curious. That was a supervisor.”
“I thought you were a supervisor.”
“We all need to be supervised.” Mei grunted as his muscles tensed, his bones took on the weight of his body, and he heaved himself back on his feet. “Back to work.”
During the light-bathing, the others sometimes talked about Mei, saying that he had spent many rotations in every corner of the world doing every kind of role. During all that time travelling, it was said that Mei became strange. Nawith didn’t think he was strange. He approached him about it one rotation during the break.
Mei laughed, surprising Nawith.
“Sorry,” the older sibling said. “It just makes too much sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“I met someone once. The same way you met me. And everyone around me thought her strange. But I felt… anger at that. She said to me, ‘We are all the same.’” He laughed again. The unfamiliar sound made Nawith wince, yet alleviated his mood at the same time.
“We are all the same,” Nawith repeated. Its meaning was inscrutable to him.
“I’ve been all over the world. Just keep to yourself. Do your work and you will be happy, strange or not.”
Nawith did not understand what Mei meant. But the break was over, and so they returned to work.
Mei died that rotation. They had shut down a conduit for maintenance. A run-away jolt had failed to be drawn away during the grounding process. Nawith had screamed. The flash was so bright. Like a pillar of light many people wide at the base. Quadrillions of volts. A fraction of a second. Then it was safe again. But there before the pipe several scorch marks had indented into the floor. Machines emerged from the hidden places to clean it up. Nawith worked with his siblings to repair the damage and connect the conduit. With a heavy hum the energy began flowing properly again.
It was a small mistake. They fixed it. Overall, the delay was less than an hour. This was the way it had always worked. Yet this time was different.
A brother walked up to him as they stood back to watch the machines prepare to leave now that the repair was finished.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “We knew you two were closer.”
“Why?”
“It was obvious.”
But Nawith was looking elsewhere. Everywhere. Their surroundings. The pipes that stood a hundred siblings tall, suspended on scaffolding that allowed them to be stacked all the way to the ceiling. His eyes moved to the port in the algexylem. Nothing was watching them when several of his siblings died. Nawith stewed in emotion he didn’t know he had. Why?
A new supervisor naturally rose into position. It wasn’t always the eldest among them, and no vote was needed. The right sibling for the role assumed it within the hour. Operations resumed as normal. For Nawith it had been a good thirty rotations since he woke, a taxing work period. He felt heavy, not just from labor. He returned to his housing complex for regeneration. Along the way he remembered something.
Built adjacent to their living spaces were the pools and the greenhouses. Long stalks of bulbous kelp grew in the water, should his siblings feel the occasional pang of hunger for solid food. Dark greens flourished vigorously in the greenhouses under the permanent lighting. It was here he had found his tiny friends. He walked past the flora and into the water. He broke off a sizable chunk of the kelp to bring back to his room.
He broke off a piece to give to the ants. They took to it enthusiastically. He smiled, feeling better. But he could not regenerate. When he closed his eyes, his thoughts haunted him. Why? When Mei passed, he felt torn. It was the right thing to feel, but he had not felt it when he saw other siblings pass. He wanted to regenerate. He thrashed about in his bed. His breaths were short, his thoughts addled. After a feverish rotation he woke sprawled on the floor of his room with his forehead slick with sweat. Trembling, he pulled himself back on his feet. He clicked at the tank to feel the sonar wave return with the maze-like map of the ant colony. It calmed him to see order, stability. Every chamber built with a purpose. Every colony member in its place. The ants were never confused. They were never lost.
Nawith opened the top of the tank and reached inside. With an unsteady finger he pressed the whorl of his index onto an ant, pushing it into the earth. It was dead instantly. Noises, footsteps, rustled outside his door. The siblings in his housing complex were preparing for work. Nawith stayed, utterly focused on his pets. At first the ants didn’t care. It took so long for them to notice, Nawith almost despaired. But eventually they caught the sign of death. Two ants branched away from their usual work to peel their sister off the earth and haul her away. The procession of the hive was unperturbed.
Nawith had never felt more apart from his world. He returned to his comfort place in his mind—those waters where the corals exchanged heat—where he had first heard the beautiful humming and learned to see himself. Now he couldn’t stop seeing his surroundings. Those endless leagues and fathoms of pipes, machines, tanks, and conduits. He remembered every accident he had ever encountered, every sibling he had seen consumed by runaway energies, every time he did not care. He had never once asked what they were all doing, and why it took their lives to do every rotation.
At first he cried. Then he laughed, the same sound Mei made, but somehow he doubted it was from the same emotion. He left his room, changed, but did not assume a station. It hurt him to do so. Every subconscious urge in his head pulled him towards a role—any role. He refused to work. The pulls became screams. He walked through the corridors of the world, neither idling nor working, clutching the sides of his head. Passing siblings gave him a wary glance, nothing more. Eventually, the final, poignant motivator was employed: pain. It was like fire at a pinpoint, pressed on every nerve in his body. He’d rather face it than to suffer a fate like Mei; to work for something he did not understand, then forgotten when he expired.
Nawith collapsed onto the cold floor in one of uncountable corridors. He couldn’t move, though his senses still worked. He heard two siblings approach. One fully grown, the other still squat, ungainly, and hot with mitosis. They passed him within an inch of his hands. He felt the heat of the newborn for a split second. Then the cold returned. Another pair approached. They passed as well. Nawith did not know how much time passed before he felt arms lifting him off the ground. He had enough strength to turn his neck and became lost in the faces of his siblings. He was the one being carried along, limp and useless. Then he was the sibling on the left and on the right, carrying a distressed brother where he needed to go. Nawith didn’t know who he was anymore. They took paths he never knew existed, down corridors he had never been, deeper into the machine host. His siblings’ thoughts were his as well. They had not known the way here either; it was when their eyes fell upon him sprawled there on the floor that knowledge exploded in their minds, and they remembered what must be done. And only two of them remembered, for only two was needed for this ritual.
They carried him to a chamber where the corpses were disposed of. Nawith remembered at the same time his siblings remembered. He realized why. When their hands touched his skin to hoist him along, they were taking his knowledge, his experiences. The connection was two-way. He felt what they felt: the immense weight of a death in the family. The same wretched feeling he harbored for Mei’s death.
They arrived at the disposal chute. The ritual was almost done. The sibling named Lashay laid Nawith’s limp form down, kissed his cheek, and met their foreheads together. Nawith felt his brother’s most joyful memories settle gently in his own life. He remembered what he had never done, that time he swam to the farthest ends of the coral ocean and saw a looking glass in the algexylem. A port where he met something staring back. He raised a hand and pressed against the glass, and so did the stranger within the tube. They shared thoughts, conversed, and became friends for the years it took for him to grow too large to work in the coral oceans. The second sibling, named Nemora, gave him a time when she laid on the beach within the greenhouses next to a sister during regeneration. They came together, fingers to skin, palms joining palms, relishing each other’s touch in ways that had been forgotten for eons. The capacity for such sensation remained in the flesh, untapped, serving no purpose in any role in their world. Nawith had not known such intimacy existed.
Then with the most care possible Nawith was allowed to fall into the chute. Rushing waters took him away. The waters were as warm as him. The tube was dark. Time seemed to blend from second to minute and minute to hour. His senses became so dull Nawith thought his body had eroded away. In that womb-like darkness, Nawith finally fell asleep.
He woke to deepening music. Something had grabbed him, dragging him through the tube towards the sound he had been hearing all his life. The creature that held him was powerful; he would not be able to fight it.
“Friend,” he said out loud.
The creature was a finned mantle, its back—or perhaps its front—was alive with flexible appendages that had grasped onto him. Through that touch he was kindly gifted knowledge as to where they were going. The creature was taking him to the very heart of the world. It was pure ocean there. Kilometers wide and longer still, perfectly ovoid, and freezing cold. The creature, which he now knew as a squid, wrapped its tentacles around him forming a warm, airtight seal. The texture became transparent so he could see. Together they swam deeper. Nawith passed schools of shrimp as large as him. They were workers of their own roles as well. They tended to the kelp farms with their complex claws. Luminescent vegetation drifted in the currents. Many more of the squid darted about. They served as attendants. This ocean had a master. His squid had brought him to the world’s ruler. He could finally ask his questions. Half-buried under a forest of optical cables in front of him was a pyramidal form with dense, grey skin riddled with protruding cilia. Rows of eyes opened. Each had two lids, whites, and a yellowish iris. Its body was well over a kilometer long. The closer Nawith came to it, the warmer the waters, and the more voluminous its sombre humming became. At its base, a thousand appendages sprouted outward, each sheathed by control mechanisms which gave it command over the world. Nawith realized then, this wasn’t a world at all.
“What are you?” He asked. The humming stopped. For the first time in his life, Nawith knew silence.
“We are brothers. Far, far apart. But you are no less important than I. We are all necessary.”
Nawith remembered, as if the knowledge was in him the entire time and never relevant until this moment. A single taxonomic term: Homo sapiens siphonophorae. A necessary leap in an epochs-old evolutionary history. Before him was the greatest sibling, They Whose thoughts boiled oceans, They Whose wisdom was bottomless and unknowable. Only the greatest sibling comprehended the ship’s functions, piloting it all this time, running away from the Enemy.
“You… made us,” Nawith said. “For what reason do our siblings die by the hundreds?”
“This ship cannot run without your work. And it has no direction without me. We are all needed. We are all a part of the ship. You have purpose. You all have meaning. Every single one of you, no less material than the other.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“Do you wish to continue working, or to rest forever? We can afford this kindness. We can make you capable of swimming in these waters, and be closer to our home.”
Nawith thought long and hard. Then he answered.
He learned quickly how to use this stronger, versatile body. With it, his mind expanded throughout his large mantle, and he understood the purpose in every machine and every station. Among his new, more difficult duties he had time to travel through the many channels in his world. From there he watched his siblings perform their roles. Very rarely, some noticed him. Even fewer came close enough for him to feel their thoughts. He relished those moments, and they seemed in awe of him, knowing deep inside they had nothing to fear. Often he felt sadness for his siblings as he watched them move so steadily from role to role, sometimes laughing, sometimes succumbing, but mostly mute. But he was patient. There must be others who heard the song. Until then he swam, just as his world did through what he now understood as an infinite ocean, running. He didn’t care why or from what. Because no matter where they swam, he knew he was already home.

[first] [prev] [next]
Never trust a smiling human - Mantid Proverb
Sma'akamo'o sat down on the bench seat that had modified to let him relax comfortably, at the side of Admiral Smith's Ready Room. The Terran Admiral sat on the far side of a table, officers of the Terran Confederate Space Force Navy on the sides of the table. There were three seats empty at the far end of the table, and a holo-emitter put up a spray of see-through glitter in the middle of the table. Representatives from the other Terran Fleets, including the Void Captain and her bodyguard, were sitting, like Sma'akamo'o, at the edge of the room.
At the door stood two shipboard Marines in adaptive camouflage, with protective plating layered on the outside and short, brutal looking submachine guns.
Sma'akamo'o knew it would take Lanaktallan anti-vehicle weaponry to penetrate those thin flimsy looking plates on the cloth uniform, and that the submachine gun carried ammunition that could rip through a Lanaktallan main battle tank's armor.
"Send him in," Admiral Smith said, her voice tight with stress.
Sma'akamo'o, Su'uprmo'o, and Spy'inmo'o had all been invited to observe the upcoming meeting.
The door opened and a smiling Admiral Huong and two attaches walked in.
"Have a seat, Admiral," Smith said, highlighting the chairs at the end of the table.
The three Terrans of the Ninth Republic of Earth took their seats.
Huong never stopped smiling.
"Despite my lofty and political rank, I'm a blunt woman, Admiral," Smith said.
"You know who we are," Huong smiled. He shrugged, lifting his hands. "We identified all of you after we made translation."
"Do you know how you got here?" Smith asked.
Huong tapped the table for a moment. "Our beacon must have got pulled to this side," his smile got wider. "Technically, you attacked us first."
Admiral Smith nodded. "Your beacon swapped places with an advanced missile collier pod."
"Which fired on our ships," Smith said. He laughed. "Thankfully, you hit the Coalsack Federation fleet rather than mine."
"And you translated onto your beacon," Smith said.
Smith nodded. "Yes. The battle was going bad for us," he looked at his aide. "Wouldn't you say?"
"Bad for everyone," the other human said. "We were already trying to make a run for it."
There was silence for a long moment.
"You were here before," Smith said.
Huong nodded. "We looked up the records. We didn't exactly cover ourselves with glory four thousand years ago when we invaded you," he shook his head. "That stopped inter-dimensional excursions."
"You stripped entire systems, nova-sparked suns, caught atmospheres on fire to kill the populations, planet cracked civilian occupied planets to strip mine the wreckage, before we stopped you," Smith said.
Huong nodded. "Our universe is slightly less resource rich," he said. He shook his head. "The Progenitors left behind almost nothing before destroying each other. We spread out, only to find that races gone for a hundred million years had already strip mined the planets and asteroid belts."
"You're stuck here," Smith said.
Huong nodded. "Our mat-trans system locked up, we're completely locked out, two hours ago."
Smith leaned forward. "And I know what your fleet really is."
Sma'akamo'o noticed how tense all three humans became.
"Your enemies wanted you bad. I know why," Smith's eyes glowed amber in the light. "Would you care to be honest or shall I lay it out for our guests?"
Huong's attache on the right shook his head slightly to signal negative to his Admiral. The other attache swallowed and looked away.
"You lied to me," Smith growled. Her hands clenched on the table. "I have you outgunned. I'm faster than you, bigger than you, better armored than you, bigger guns than you, and I'm probably personally meaner than you."
Huong smiled again.
"Tell me the real designation of your fleet," Smith growled.
In the middle of the table the holo-emitter blinked and showed the ships of the Terran Admiral's fleet.
Huong sat still for a long moment, his smile more like a rictus. Finally he put his hands on the table, palms flat, fingers spread out.
"Dandelion. It's designation is Dandelion Fleet," he admitted. He sighed and waved at the outside of the ship. "The planet out there?"
"Yes?" Smith said, her voice tight.
"It's the first planet with a breathable atmosphere that isn't full of howling isotopes or bioweapons," Huong admitted. He shook his head. "I'm fifty-two years old. The war started before I was born, and while it's technically over, it's only because there usually isn't anyone to fight."
"Until the Earth Hegemony and the Coalsack Federation caught up to our fleet," one of the aides grumbled.
"Those aren't combat troops, are they?" Smith asked.
Huong shrugged. "They can be. Like anyone else, you can just hand them a rifle and some body armor and send them into battle, same way the three of us were."
Smith tapped the table. "I'm not even going to ask your actual rank."
Huong smiled. "Lieutenant JG. But it's my fleet, that makes me an Admiral."
Smith sighed. "How long have you had that fleet?"
Huong looked at the left hand aide. "When did we pick up the troop transports?"
"We found them orbiting that dead prison Hellworld eight years ago, around Ilistrait-19," the aide said.
Smith nodded. "Your universe is in the middle of watching you kill yourselves."
Huong nodded.
"What started it?" Smith added.
Huong shrugged. "Too many big kids on the block? Argument over mining rights? Who knows. It was a century before any of us were born. Nobody alive now was alive back when it started."
"Nobody was around when the Milky Way Super-Singularity got nova-sparked," one of the aides said, still looking away.
"Or when the Andromeda Core got nova-sparked," Huong said. He shook his head. "We were born into a war that none of us even understood."
Sma'akamo'o noted how uncomfortable Smith looked.
"So, will you be going guns free on us?" Huong asked. "Given our history, what happened four thousand years ago, you have the precedent and the reasons."
Smith stood up slowly, turning and facing the wall.
"One hundred and thirty billion people, sixty two systems, all wiped away and 'harvested' by your invading fleet, from a timeline that the only difference is an almost imperceptible percentage of strength in the gluon attraction," she said, facing the wall. "It took us twenty-five years to force you back to your own dimension, your own timeline."
Huong nodded, still smiling.
"But that was four thousand years ago, and times change," Smith said slowly. "You have billions of innocent people in cryo-stasis. Your cargo holds are less than 15% loaded with combat gear."
She put one hand on the wall. "The rest is farming and construction machinery and supplies, ovum and sperm, cryo-pods. You stacked a podnaught to the gills with cryo-pods and welded shut the deployment doors."
Huong just nodded.
"Most of your ship computers are brain dead or senile. Your radiation shielding is almost shot. Half of your ships, the engines are almost scrap and your mat-trans system is starting to fray," she said.
"And currently is locked up," Huong said, his voice bleak.
"You can't run. You can't hide. You can't fight," Smith said. She slowly turned around. "Four thousand years ago, you attacked without warning, swept down on everything you came across to harvest it, butchered billions of people."
Huong nodded, still smiling.
Sma'akamo'o tensed. He could feel the tension in the air. It was so thick it made his head ache.
"You have billions of people on board your ships in cryo-stasis," Smith said. "We already did a mitosis check, we're genetically compatible with each other."
Huong looked at his hands. "No gloves," he sighed. His smile vanished for a moment. "Everything I touched I left DNA and cells behind."
Smith nodded.
"You have animals, farming equipment, but you can't make another jump," Smith said. "Half of your ships won't make it."
Huong nodded.
"You can't fight."
"No."
"You can't run."
"No."
"But you fought your way this far."
"Yes."
"And you won't give up now."
"No."
Smith took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes the amber glow was gone.
"The Confederacy is at war with the Unified Civilized Council, the Atrekna, and the Precursor Autonomous War Machines," Smith said.
"Yes."
"Humanity has taken 99.98% casualties from an Atrekna surprise attack."
"Yes."
"We can always take you with us."
"Yes."
Sma'akamo'o lifted up his hand and chewed on his nails.
Smith shook her head. "But that's not the way we do things in this timeline."
Huong's smile vanished. "I would eliminate you without hesitation."
Smith nodded. "You come from a brutal and savage timeline, a timeline of oppression, barbarity, resource shortages, and the Digital Omnimessiah knows what. Of course you would," she put her hand on the table, fingers spread open, and stared at her own hand. "But that's not how we do things here. It may have been at one point, but it isn't now."
She looked up.
"I'm going to show you, Admiral Huong, how the Confederacy does things in this timeline," she said, her voice low and full of menace. "I'm going to show you how different things are now, four thousand years later."
Huong nodded, his smile looking sickly.
"I'm going to show you what is in store for your billions of refugees from a failing timeline," Admiral Smith said slowly as she walked up and stared down at Admiral Huong. Sma'akamo'o could see the sweat beading up on the Admiral's forehead as he looked up at the female Terran. "Show you how the Confederacy treats those weaker than themselves."
The Admiral's aides, on either side of him, had paled, and to Sma'akamo'o's eyes, looked sick to their stomachs.
"Do you need assistance?" Admiral Smith asked.
Sma'akamo'o's blood ran cold.
-------------
"Send them in," Admiral Smith said.
Sma'akamo'o watched as the door opened. Beyond were two Ultion Knights escorting the Void Captain. One came in, looking around. Sma'akamo'o could see the faint flicker of a scanner coming from the armored Ultion Knight that scanned the entire room and the personnel in it.
They moved in, the Ultion Knights taking up position on either side of the single chair at the far end of the table. The chairs that Admiral Huong's aides had sat in had been removed.
The Void Captain moved with an eerie grace, the hem of her dress unmoving as she apparently drifted across the floor. She sat down carefully, smoother her dress, before adjusting her veil slightly.
"Void Captain She'ishlos," Admiral Smith said. "Ultion Knight Senior Dire Major Pevri'ilinta, Ultion Knight Senior Dread Captain Shirli'itrinu."
"Terran Admiral," the Void Captain replied.
The Ultion Knights remained silent.
Smith reached out and tapped an icon on the table visible only to her. The holo-emitter came up, projecting the scene of a beautiful field with a city in the distance.
"Telkan-2," Smith said.
The two Ultion Knights went down on one knee, bowing their heads.
"This is not a historical video. I used the needlecast and GalNet to get these pictures. They were posted to the Telkan boards today," Admiral Smith said.
On the video a group of podlings ran into frame, giggling and tumbling, wrestling with one another.
Sma'akamo'o heard the Void Captain make an almost inaudible noise of pain.
"Podlings," the two Ultion Knights said in unison. "Podlings."
To Sma'akamo'o it sounded like they were in pain.
"In your timeline, Terra, Telkan, eighty percent of the Unified Council Systems, were lost to the Precursor Autonomous War Machines and the fighting between the Confederacy and the Unified Civilized Species Council," Admiral Smith said.
"Yes," The Void Captain said.
"The doctors did a genetic check," Admiral Smith said. She paused for a long moment. "You are genetically compatible with modern Telkan."
The Void Captain looked at her hands. "I dropped fur, left oil and sweat and skin cells on the places I touched," she looked up. "You did these checks without my consent, in violation of Confederate Genetic Privacy Statues?"
Smith nodded. "I am allowed to under unusual and strenuous circumstances that have fleet security issues involved. I doubt a board of inquiry would convict me, but you are free to make a complaint if you wish," she said.
The Void Captain remained silent.
"You have agreed to submit to my authority," Admiral Smith said.
"I have," the Void Captain replied.
"On my authority, I am dispatching your task force to the Telkan System for refit, personnel training, and other administrative functions. I have already informed Director Brentili'ik that you will be enroute within the next five days," Admiral Smith said. "While your firepower and metal weight would be welcome in the fight I have coming my way, you face a greater fight."
The Void Captain remained silent.
"You must face a world you saw devoured by Dwellerspawn, walk among people you thought were dead, possibly even meet with the version of yourself that grew up in this timeline," Smith said. She shook her head. "For me to force you into my order of battle, rather than dispatch you to Telkan, would be a most grievous violation of what the Confederacy stands for."
"Are there..." one Ultion Knight whispered. "Are there... podlings? Broodcarriers?"
"There are," Smith said. She tapped the icon and showed a bunch of broodcarriers chivvying podlings along a paved path in a park, with Rigellian ducks paddling in the sparkling pond. "A park on Telkan-1. Video taken this morning."
"Broodmommies," the other whispered.
The Void Captain reached out and put her hands on a shoulder of each of them.
Admiral Smith stared at the veiled Telkan female. "Go home, Void Captain. Take your fleet and your people with you."
She leaned back in her chair.
"That's an order."
---------------
Sma'akamo'o waited until everyone had left, remaining seated, as Smith rubbed her eyes.
"I would like to ask a question of you," Sma'akamo'o said.
"Go ahead," Smith said. She pulled a piece of gum out of her pocket and popped it in her mouth.
"Why not destroy Admiral Huong and his fleet? They did attack your people, scorch your star systems, four thousand years ago," Sma'akamo'o asked.
Smith nodded. "For your people that isn't a long time, for my people, that's over two hundred generations. There's nobody left alive except the Immortals from that long ago. I'd be murdering them for something they had no part in."
Sma'akamo'o shrugged. "My people would have determined they were accountable for the actions of their ancestors."
Smith shook her head. "We call that blood guilt. You are guilty because someone in the past you share bloodlines with did something. That way leads to nothing but suffering, oppression, and ultimately, war, savagery, and atrocity."
Sma'akamo'o nodded. "That is why you wipe them out. That way you do not have to worry about their descendants."
Smith nodded. "People have put that solution forward. We call that the Final Solution, and let me tell you, it's led to some ugly stuff," she tapped the table and the holo-emitter popped on, showing quick clips of sullenly smouldering planets, nova-sparked suns, burning cities, bodies stacked by the hundreds. "That's the Clown Face Nebula War."
Sma'akamo'o felt sick looking at the images.
"They got to the point that they were using planet-crackers on each other, bioweapons, scorching the atmosphere," Smith said. "The Confederacy got involved right when the escalated to nova-sparks."
"I see," Sma'akamo'o said.
"Do you want to know what caused it?" Smith asked. Sma'akamo'o noticed her voice was tired.
"I would," Sma'akamo'o said.
"A thousand years ago, when the planets were being settled, some of the settlers wanted to call the planetary cluster one thing," Smith said. She shook her head and gave a bitter, self-mocking laugh. "The others named the cluster another. They fought, and killed each other, and wiped out entire planets, over a disagreement on the planetary cluster's official name."
Sma'akamo'o blinked in shock.
"That's all. That's all it was. Over time each side criticized every decision the other made, each side labeled by the name they wanted, until finally each side declared open season on the other side," Smith said. She wiped way the image. "Human stupidity."
Sma'akamo'o nodded.
"If I kill him, because it's easier, what does that say about me, say about Space Force, say about the Confederacy, say about humanity?" Smith asked. "That easy trumps the Right to Exist?"
She stood up. "No. So I made a decision. I let him, and his people, live."
"We would not have," Sma'akamo'o admitted. "We would have simply exterminated them to prevent any problems later in time."
Smith nodded, holding Sma'akamo'o's gaze with her own.
"That's why your government has to go."
[first] [prev] [next]

What is this?
These are apps (really web-apps) that I've made for my own class or other teachers I know. They are mostly for physics because that's what I teach but there are a good number of life science ones too. They run on any internet-connected device that isn't tooooo old. They are all free and will always be free.
Who are you?
I am a science teacher in the Chicago Public Schools. I've been teaching physics for the past 7 years but will be teaching a mix this year. I have also have a minor biology and have taught it a little bit way back when.
Why now?
I've been sitting on these, some of them for years. I've always wanted other people to be able to use them but I've always been to lazy to make it happen. I've played around with the idea of making a start up but with so many kids needing to learn science outside of the lab this year I knew now was the time.
I've posted on /ScienceTeachers and /physics before so you might have seen my stuff there but I've noticed some of my life science apps like the bug in meadow sim are popular so I thought /biology might like them too.
What've you got for me?
The apps are sorted by how you might use them. I want to help as many students as possible get a high-quality three-dimensional science education. The apps will always be free.
I'm putting the biology/life science ones here. If you want to see other content areas you can find them here:
Link to all bio apps - chem apps - earth&space apps - physics apps

Virtual Labs/Phenomena

These replicate something like you would get with a hands on lab. Students can change things and see final velocities.
Bug In Meadow - Biology - Replicates the common Bead Bug activity. click/tap the bugs on a meadow to eat half of them. Click "count" to see how many of each color survived and then have them reproduce. After several generations you see strong selection pressure based on the colors in th meadow. This is one of the first I made so it looks janky but it works better than any actual beads and cloth version I've seen.
Onion Root Tip Slides - Biology - Shows onion root tip slides. Start with a macro picture of green onions and zoom in on two roots at 40x and 100-400x. Slides are chosen to show stages of mitosis clearly. Big thank you to Berkshire Community College Bioscience Image Library for releasing their microscopy photos in the public domain.

Measurement or Problems

Think of these as virtual practice problems. Students make measurements and calculate or figure something out.
Bacteria Plate Streaking - Biology - Students practice the procedure of streaking a plate to isolate a bacteria culture. Heavy inspired by this excellent simulation out of Michigan State University that unfortunately doesn't work well for remote learning because it requires flash. A request of my wife's.
Gel and Restriction Enzymes - Biology - An old request of my wife's - Two simulations. The first is using restriction enzymes without sticky ends. The second is moving DNA segments a la gel electrophoresis. Keeps track of how many you have done.
Transcription and Translation - Biology - Move base pairs around to transcribe off an open DNA sequence and then act as tRNA and bring in the right amino acid using a chart. I'm going to be honest. This app is so old I don't really remember making it but I tested it out and it seems to work fine.

Diagram Makers

Sometimes it's easier for me to make an app once rather than make 100 versions of a diagram.
Blood Pressure Diagram - Biology - A request of my wife's - Shows the dial on an analog sphygmomanometer. Can show systolic and diastolic side by side or on the same dial. Use a screenshot to save the image. (Win-PrtScn or Fn-Win-Space on Windows, Shift-Cmd-4 on Mac)
Pedigree Maker - Biology - A request of my wife's - Make pedigree diagrams by dragging the pieces around. Double click to select a piece. Use a screenshot to save the image. (Win-PrtScn or Fn-Win-Space on Windows, Shift-Cmd-4 on Mac)

Spoilers Ahead

Calamity, the Red Star

From the Reckoners, by Brandon Sanderson

“You will destroy yourselves, and I will bear witness. I will not shirk my duty as others have. We are to watch, as is our calling. But I must not interfere, not again. The acts of youth can be forgiven. Though I was never truly a child, I was new. And your world is a shock. A dreadful shock.”

Page 402, Chapter 48, Calamity

Description
A powerful multiversal being, Calamity created for himself a human form so that he could descend to earth to grant humans the powers he possessed and observe the results. However, humans he granted powers to were influenced by their powers, and lacked empathy, because of Calamity’s belief in human sinfulness.This caused them to have nightmares of their phobia, and lose their powers whenever exposed to their fear. Although his counterparts in other dimensions simply distributed their powers and left, Calamity remained, hiding among the human populace and observing them.
Physical Description
Form as Calamity, the red star.

I lowered my popsicle and squinted at that strange red light, which rose like a new star above the horizon. Only no star had ever been that bright or that red. Crimson. It looked like a bullet wound in the dome of heaven itself.

Prologue, page 1, Firefight

The star burned fiercely, and the land around me seemed to grow red, bathed in a deep light. Like on that first night, so long ago, when Calamity had come and the world had changed. Impossibilities, chaos, followed by Epics.
It dominated my view, that burning redness. I didn’t feel as if I—or it—had changed locations, and yet suddenly it was all that I could see. I felt, against reason, that I was so close I could reach out and touch the star. And within that blazing, violent redness, I swore I saw a pair of fiery wings.

Chapter 41, Calamity, page 343,

His form as Larcener, emperor of Atlanta

The door opened all the way, revealing a backlit figure. It wasn’t Prof, but a younger man, tall and lanky, with pale skin and short black hair. He looked us over, not a glimmer of concern in his eyes, despite facing three armed people.

Chapter 18, Calamity, page 155

I gaped, my heart racing again. Before this, he’d been determinedly lazy with us. Now—dwarfed by Larcener, who stood seven feet tall, with a terrible sneer and wild eyes—I felt I was a moment from being destroyed.

Chapter 22, Calamity, page 188

I smiled. “Larcener. By all reports, he was a teenager when Calamity rose—maybe even a kid. One of the youngest High Epics, he’s probably in his early twenties right now. He’s tall, with dark hair and pale skin; I’ll send a photo to your mobiles when we get back.

Chapter 18, Page 149, Calamity

Defensive Powers
As the source of all powers in the Reckoners series, Calamity knows how all powers work, and has shown a wide variety of powers. These are the ones that are primarily defensive in nature.
Can survive the vacuum of space

“Of course, David,” Calamity said. “Though you did break the station. I needn’t save you from…the natural result of your actions. This place can be so fragile.” He smiled.
I lunged for a handgrip on the floor—just in time, as a large hole opened in the side of the room. The wind howled.
“Goodbye, David Charleston,” Calamity said, strolling over to kick at my fingers

page 403, chapter 49, Calamity

Can create up to 3 clones at a time, all who maintain the same powers and intellect as him.

“A decoy,” Prof barked. His voice carried through the square. “Larcener is a coward, I see.”
“Decoy?” Megan said, taking my rifle from me and zooming in on the body.
“Ooooh,” I whispered, excited. “Larcener absorbed Dead Drop. I wondered if he was ever going to do that.”
“Talk normal-person, Knees,” Megan said. “Dead Drop?”
“An Epic who used to live in the city. He could make copies of himself—kind of like Mitosis, but Dead Drop could make only a few at a time. Three, I think? The copies each retained his other powers though. And, well, you know how Larcener is….”
[...]
If Prof found a clone, it means Larcener grabbed Dead Drop’s powers—an Epic who could create a decoy of himself, imbue it with his consciousness and powers, then retreat to his real body if the decoy was threatened.”
I took my gun back from Megan and studied the decoy. It was decomposing quickly now that it had been killed, the skin melting off the bones like a marshmallow slipping off its roasting stick. Undoubtedly this was how Prof had recognized that he didn’t have the real Larcener.

Page 122, Chapter 15, calamity

Can easily maintain projections/decoys on earth from the International Space station despite distance.

“YOU,” I whispered. “You were down below! With us, all along!”
“Yes,” Larcener said, turning to regard the world. “I can project a decoy of myself; you know this. You even mentioned the power on several occasions.”

Page 396, Calamity, chapter 48

Can absorb city+ level explosions and recreate destroyed objects.

THE explosion ripped through the glass space station, shattering it to pieces. The heat and force hit me in an instant, then curved around me. It streamed into Calamity’s outstretched palm, sucked like water through a straw.
It was over in an eyeblink. Behind me, the station reknit itself, glass forming back together, resealing.
I stood like an idiot, clicking the button again and again.
“You thought,” Calamity said without looking at me, “that my own power could destroy me? I suppose there would be a poetry to that. But I am master of the powers, David. I know them all, in their intricacy. Yes, I could tell you how Ildithia works. Yes, I could explain what Megan does in jumping to other realms—both core possibilities and ones ephemeral. But I am truly immortal. None of the powers could harm me, not permanently.

Chapter 49, Calamity, page 401

Offensive powers
Can vaporize objects.

Something tumbled from Prof’s hand, and it vaporized as Calamity pointed.

Chapter 49, page 404, Calamity

Can remove powder from guns.

I pulled the trigger. The gun didn’t even fire.
“I removed the powder,” Calamity noted. “Nothing you can possibly do—whether the result of Epic powers or the craftiness of men—can hurt me.” He hesitated. “You, however, have no such protections.”

Page 403, chapter 49, Calamity

Disintegrates objects.

“Of course, David,” Calamity said. “Though you did break the station. I needn’t save you from…the natural result of your actions. This place can be so fragile.” He smiled.
I lunged for a handgrip on the floor—just in time, as a large hole opened in the side of the room. The wind howled.

Chapter 49, page 403

.Can launch concussive waves.

Prof grabbed me, perhaps intending to teleport us away, but a sudden wave of something slammed into us, sending us sprawling.

Chapter 49, Calamity, page 404

Can launch an undetermined beam attack.

Some unseen force tossed me to the ground. Calamity glowed and raised his hands, a beam forming, then shooting right toward me.

Chapter 49, page 405

I turned and found that Calamity was standing there growling at me. He raised his hands, summoning light.

Chapter 50, page 406

Power granting/stealing
Calamity can grant powers to others, and take them back.

“You’re the source of it all,” I said, resting my fingers on the glass in front of me. “You…all along…The powers you stole from other Epics?”
“I simply took back what I once gave,” he said. “Everyone was so quick to believe in an Epic who could steal abilities, they never realized they’d had it backward. I’m no thief. ‘Larcener,’ they called me. Petty.” He shook his head.

Chapter 48,Calamity page 397

Can track/ detect people who he has given powers to, determine their powers.

“Sure. Like food being cooked, all right? It lets me find Epics to…you know…” Steal their powers.
So he was a dowser as well as everything else. I shared a look with Megan, who seemed troubled. We hadn’t considered that someone might find us by tracking her powers. Fortunately dowsing was a very rare ability, though it certainly made sense as part of Larcener’s original portfolio.
“Dowsers,” I said, turning back to him. “Are there any others in the city?”

Chapter 19, Calamity, page 160

Because of his own corruption, people who are granted powers go insane and kill random people with their powers for a short while, before settling down as evil, selfish, and arrogant, with greater effects based on how powerful they are. Calamity can recall powers from people he grants them to, regaining their powers and often causing brain damage.

“Do you know of the Rending?” Regalia asked. “That’s what we call the time just after an Epic first gains their powers. You’ll feel an overwhelming sensation driving you to destroy, to break. It utterly consumes us. Some learn to manage with the feelings, as I have. Others, like dear Obliteration, never quite get beyond them.”
“No,” I whispered, feeling a growing horror.
“If it’s any consolation, you’ll probably forget most of what you’re about to do. You’ll wake up in a day or so with only vague memories of the people you killed.” She leaned in, voice growing harsher. “I’m going to enjoy watching this, David Charleston. It is poetry for one who has killed so many of us to become the thing he hates. I believe, in the end, that is what convinced Calamity to agree to my request.”
[...]
The star burned fiercely, and the land around me seemed to grow red, bathed in a deep light. Like on that first night, so long ago, when Calamity had come and the world had changed. Impossibilities, chaos, followed by Epics.
It dominated my view, that burning redness. I didn’t feel as if I—or it—had changed locations, and yet suddenly it was all that I could see. I felt, against reason, that I was so close I could reach out and touch the star. And within that blazing, violent redness, I swore I saw a pair of fiery wings.
My skin grew cold, then shocked alive with a tingling, electric sensation—as if recovering from numbness. I screamed, doubling upon myself. Sparks! I could feel it coursing through me. A foul energy, a transformation.
It was really happening.
No, no … Please …
The redness upon the land retreated, and my water pillar slowly lowered. I barely noticed, as the tingling feeling continued, more frantic, like thousands of worms squirming under my skin.
[...]
I groaned, rolling over, face toward the sky. Calamity now seemed only a distant prick, but that red glow upon the land remained—faint, but noticeable. Everything around me was bathed in a shade of crimson.
“Well, on with it,” Regalia said. “Let’s see what you can do. I am distinctly interested to see how your former teammates react when you bumble into the middle of their careful planning, manifesting Epic powers, murdering everyone you see. It should be … amusing.”
[...]
Was I now an Epic?
Yes. I felt it was true. What had just happened between me and Calamity was no trick. But still, I had to test it. I had to know for absolute certain.
And then I would kill myself, quickly, before the desires consumed me.
New Epics tended to lose control immediately after obtaining their powers. The results were often… unsightly.

Page 87, Chapter 11, Calamity

Calamity can also take back his powers from people he gifted them to, causing them to go insane or into shock.

“Perhaps you should have thought this through before prancing in here and making demands,” Larcener said. “Enjoy being even more of a peasant. I’m sure you’ll fit in brilliantly with this crew, if you can even think straight when this is done. Most can’t, you see—”

Calamity, Chapter 37 page 316

An example of Calamity successfully drawing back powers. People are paralyzed while the powers are being returned, and takes a few seconds of skin contact.

He reached Prof and lightly rested his fingers on the man’s neck. Prof screamed, going stiff.
“Like ice water in the veins, I’m told,” Larcener said.
I charged toward them across the open cavern. “What are you doing?”
“Ending your problem,” Larcener said, holding on to Prof. “You wish me to stop?”
“I…” I swallowed.
“Too late anyway,” Larcener said, pulling his fingers away and inspecting them. He looked into Prof’s eyes. “Excellent. It worked this time. I did need to check, after our little…problem with your girlfriend.” He looked up at the sky, then glared at the sunlight, stepping back into the shadows. Sparks. The sun was low on the horizon; it had to be at least five by now. I hadn’t realized we’d been fighting so long.
I knelt down beside Prof. He was staring ahead, looking stunned. I prodded him softly, but he didn’t move, didn’t even blink.

Chapter 46, Calamity, page 389

There is no maximum to the amount of powers he can take back, and if he takes back a power, he can keep it as long as he likes if the opponent cannot take it back.

“An assumer,” I said, “is the opposite of a gifter. Larcener steals powers from other Epics—it’s his one natural ability, but he’s very powerful. Most assumers only ‘rent’ the powers, so to speak. Larcener can take another Epic’s abilities permanently, and he can keep as many as he wants. He’s got an entire collection of them. If Prof found a clone, it means Larcener grabbed Dead Drop’s powers—an Epic who could create a decoy of himself, imbue it with his consciousness and powers, then retreat to his real body if the decoy was threatened.”

Calamity Chapter 16, Page 123

Speed/mobility
Can teleport.

I reached the room where I’d first arrived. Dead end.
Calamity sprang into existence near me.

Page 403, Chapter 49, Calamity

Can travel between parallel dimensions

“What do you think to do here?” he demanded, looking around. “This is another Core Possibility, isn’t it? One adjacent to yours? You realize I can just send us back.”

Page 407, Chapter 50, Calamity

Miscellaneous
Powers which don’t fit into one of the above categories, or can fit in both, and which Calamity has feats for.
Responsible for turning the entire ISS into glass.

Sparks. I was in the old international space station, but it had been transformed into glass.

Chapter 47, page 394

Can instantly create limited amounts of items out of nothing, which fade eventually.

We crowded around the doorway as, inside, he spun and flopped backward. A large stuffed chair materialized out of nowhere, catching him. He lounged there.

Calamity, Chapter 19, page 157

“No,” Larcener snapped, and didn’t offer any further explanation, though I knew anyway. He could create only a limited mass of items, and they faded when he wasn’t concentrating on them. Food or drinks he created wouldn’t sate, as they’d eventually vanish.

Page 161, Calamity Chapter 10

The once-bare walls were now draped with soft red velvet. A set of lanterns glowed on mahogany tables. Larcener lay on a couch as elegant as any we’d had in the Babilar hideout, wearing a pair of large headphones, with his eyes closed. I couldn’t hear what, if anything, he was listening to—the headphones were likely connected wirelessly to a mobile.
[...]
I reached into a bowl on a little marble pedestal beside the door. Glass beads trickled between my fingers. No—diamonds.

Page 187, Calamity, Chapter 22

Can create complex equipment, such as water jets that can cut through stone.

then they’d melted their way in through a window using a specialized pressure washer that delivered a small jet of water strong enough to cut stone. They had used it on one of the windows turned to salt.

Page 223, chapter 26, Calamity

Range is at least 3 miles, max size is around size of a couch, and maximum mass is not an issue.

“No. You beat the darkness somehow. You’re not evil; you’re just spoiled and selfish.” I nodded toward the others. “We’ll bring you a list. It should all be within your powers. You can make…what, anything up to about the size of a couch, right? Range of three miles, if I recall. Maximum mass limit shouldn’t be an issue.”
“How…” He focused on me, as if seeing me for the first time. “How do you know that?”
“You got your conjuration powers from Brainstorm. I had a whole file on her.” I walked toward the doorway.

Page 209 Chapter 24, Calamity

Spatial distortion, can manipulate distance, make areas larger.

I stepped into the room. Sparks, it seemed way larger than it had before. I paced it off, and found that it was bigger.
Spatial distortion, I thought, adding that to his list of powers. Calamity, that was an incredible power. I’d only heard rumors about Epics having it. And his ability to materialize objects from thin air…

Chapter 22, Calamity, page 187

Doesn’t sleep

“Last I checked,” Abraham said. “He does not seem to sleep.”

Chapter 21, page 186

I sighed, dropping the diamonds. “You don’t sleep,” I said, trying a different tack.

Chapter 22, calamity page 188

Other Powers
Powers which Calamity is confirmed to have by characters, but does not have quotable feats for.
Has impervious skin, regeneration, and danger sense, and can also fly, transform objects into salt, put people to sleep with a touch, and manipulate heat and cold.

“He steals powers, and keeps them. All he has to do is touch someone, and he can take their powers. One of the reasons he’s so dangerous is that it’s impossible to tell what abilities he has, as he has likely never manifested them all. Prime invincibilities include danger sense, impervious skin, regeneration, and now the ability to project his consciousness and powers into a fake body.”
[...]
“He can also fly, transform objects to salt, manipulate heat and cold, conjure objects at will, and put people to sleep with a touch,” I added. “By all accounts, he’s also incredibly lazy. He could be the most dangerous Epic alive—but he doesn’t seem to care. He stays here, rules Ildithia, and doesn’t bother others unless he has to.'

Page 149, chapter 18, Calamity

Weakness
If Calamity grants powers to someone, they can regain or retain their sanity and self control by confronting their fear to save someone else. This also applies to people who confronted their fear to save someone before they gained their powers. If they have so, they keep their powers, and calamity cannot withdraw them.

“I didn’t bring you back,” I said. “You faced it, Prof.” I suddenly understood—in strapping on the motivators and trying to take up his powers again after what had happened, he’d faced them. He’d come to risk failure. He’d done it.
He’d claimed the powers. Like Megan, he’d ripped the darkness from the abilities, and sent one sprawling away while seizing the others.
Prof’s powers were now his, and not Calamity’s. The motivator boxes were meaningless.

Chapter 49, page 404

Calamity believes that all humans are evil, especially when given power, and this influences all his decisions and actions. When confronted about his beliefs and fear by people who are able use his powers without going insane or killing others, and who refuse to become evil, he dissipates.

“You are evil,” he said, almost a plea.
“I am not,” Megan said.
“You will…you will destroy everything…,” he said.
“No,” Prof said, his voice rough. “No.”
Calamity focused on me, standing with the other two.
“Your corruption isn’t enough,” I said. “Your fears are not enough. Your hatred is not enough. We won’t do it, Calamity.”
He wrapped his arms around himself and began to rock.
“Do you know what made the difference?” I demanded of him. “The reason our powers separated from yours? The same thing happened with all of us. Megan running into a burning building. Me entering the ocean. Edmund with the dog. And Prof coming here. It wasn’t only confronting the fears…”
“…it was pushing through them,” Calamity whispered, looking from me to the others, “to save someone.”

. > “Do you fear that?” I asked him softly. “That we aren’t what you’ve thought? Does it terrify you to know that deep down, men are not monsters? That we are, instead, inherently good?”

He stared at me, then collapsed, curling up on the glass floor. The red light within him dimmed, and then—just like that, he faded away. Until there was nothing.

Chapter 50, page 410

Other references
As the source of all powers in the Reckoners series, Calamity in his prime, before giving away his powers, would have access to all the abilities mentioned or used by other Epics within the series.
Please keep in mind that it is currently unknown if Calamity retains any aspect of powers after they are given away, although he does regain abilities after their owners die. Thus, I have listed the current status of each Epic. Unknown means unknown, dead means he most likely has their powers, reclaimed means confirmed he has their powers, Alive and/or Defiant means it is unknown if he has access to their powers or not, and thus cannot be assumed for in story or EOS calamity.
However, if you wish to use predistribution/prime calamity, before he gives the powers away, all powers listed below and above are fair game. I will be listing the Epics mentioned above already, as well as others within the series.
Powers pre-distribution Calamity had access to include:

• Brainstorm: Spontaneous creation of matter (Mentioned in Calamity Chapter 24, reclaimed)
  
• Clapper: Warps the air so all projectiles go around him. (mentioned in firefight, chapter 16, unknown)
  
• Conflux: Electric charging, power supply, gifting (Whole series, alive)
  
• The Creer boys: Air pressure control, pain manipulation, precognition (Mentioned in Calamity, alive)
  
• Curveball: Unlimited ammo. (Mentioned in Steelheart, Chapter 2, dead)
  
• Darkness Infinity: Could teleport using shadows. (Mentioned in Calamity, Chapter 36, pg 308, Dead)
  
• Dawnlight: Plant control, light manipulation, matter manipulation? (Firefight, alive)
  
• Dead drop: Can create up to 3 clones, while his real body is somewhere else. (Calamity, reclaimed)
  
• Deathpoint: Kills people by pointing at them. Likely some form of immolation or accelerated time. (Steelheart Prologue, dead)
  
• Digzone: Some sort of ability which lets him create tunnels? Gifting. (Mentioned in Steelheart, Calamity, unknown)
  
• Dynamo: Sound manipulation (Calamity, unknown)
  
• Faultline: The ability to turn stone and earth into dust/sand, the ability to manipulate loose earth, ability to solidify loose earth. Once sank a bank several hundred feet into the earth. (Mentioned in Steelheart, dead)
  
• Firefight: Transdimensional travel, pulling objects and people from other dimensions, resurrection/reincarnation. (All books, Defiant)
  
• Firefight: (Alternate timeline version, where the red star Invocation left after a year) Can fly, shoot fire, turn into fire, fire aura. See Firefight RT for more info. (All books, In universe counterpart unknown)
  
• Fortuity: Increased Strength, Increased Agility, Precognition, Danger Sense (Steelheart, dead)
  
• Hawkham: Force Redirection (Chapter 21, page 169, Firefight)
  
• Helium: Levitation powers (Calamity, mentioned page 227, Unknown)
  
• Inshallah: Forces opponents to speak in rhyme. (Mentioned in Calamity, chapter 36, pg 308, dead)
  
• Instabam: Had unknown potato based powers. (Mentioned in chapters 4 and 5, firefight, dead)
  
• Knoxx: Can turn into an animal and back (Known forms include pigeon and dog). Transformation time is instant, and equipment is transformed as well. (Firefight, dead)
  
• Lifeline: Telepathy, low level electric powers. (Mentioned in Calamity, chapter 36, pg 308, dead)
  
• Limelight: Spontaneous disintegration of dense non organic objects, high level regeneration/ healing, forcefield/hardlight manifestation, super strength, gifting. (All books, Defiant)
  
• Loophole: Enchanced Speed, Size manipulation (decrease in size comes with decrease in mass) (Automatically shrinks enemy attacks) (Calamity, dead)
  
• Mitosis: Can split himself in half every few seconds. Each clone can also split itself. Cannot be truly defeated until all clones are destroyed. (Mitosis, dead)
  
• Neon: Light manipulation, lasers, (Mentioned in Calamity, Chapter 20, unknown)
  
• Nightwielder: Intangibility, exudes a dark mist to stab people with, city scale darkness generation, flight. (Steelheart, dead)
  
• Newton: Force Redirection (Firefight, Dead)
  
• Obliteration: Danger sense, Instantaneous reflexive and deliberate teleportation, thermokinesis, absorption and storage of energy, heat aura, Can charge up for city+ level blasts. (Firefight, Calamity, Defiant)
  
• Powder: Can cause gunpowder and other unstable materials to explode by looking at them. (Mentioned in Calamity, Chapter 35, unknown)
  
• Puños de Fuego: Enhanced strength capable of throwing tanks, increased durability.(Firefight Chapter 31, Dead)
  
• Refractionary: Invisibility, Illusion creation (Steelheart, chapter 9-11, Dead)
  
• Regalia: Long term precog, water manipulation, water based clairvoyance. (Firefight, Dead)
  
• Rick O Shea: Power to charge objects with energy so that they explode when thrown, throws objects at ballistic velocities. (Mentioned in Steelheart, chapter 16, Dead)
  
• Rtich: Manipulation of mercury/quicksilver to create shields, weapons and platforms. See Firefight RT for more info. (Calamity, Dead)
  
• Sourcefield: Electromagnetic Forcefields, Energy blasts, can transform into energy to travel through objects. (Firefight, Dead)
  
• Steelheart: Invulnerability, Steel transmutation, Energy blasts, Super Strength, Wind Manipulation, Perfect Memory (Steelheart, Calamity, Defiant)
  
• Stormwind: Rain control, which causes accelerated plant growth (Mentioned in Calamity, dead)
  
• Strongtower: Some form of invulnerability similar to Steelheart’s. (Mentioned in Steelheart, unknown)
  
• The Thaub: Can speak any made up language anyone anywhere had imagined. (Mentioned in Calamity, Chapter 36, pg 308, dead)
  
• Terms: Unspecified time manipulation powers (Mentioned in Calamity, Chapter 13, page 107, unknown)
  
• Waterlog: Water absorption, High pressure water jets (Firefight, dead)
  
• Wiper: Can negate the powers of other Epics. (Mentioned in Calamity, Chapter 29-30, dead)
  
• Wooden Soul: The ability to control Marrionettes/Mannequins with her mind (Mentioned in Calamity, chapter 8-9, dead)
  

In the above section, “Mentioned in ---” means that we have their name and description of their general powers, and they may have appeared as a character, but few or no good/applicable feats or examples of these powers being used exist.
Please keep in mind that the weaknesses of each individual epic above are influenced by their own individual personalities and fears, and that they would not affect Calamity.
Below are powers which are mentioned or shown, but have no specific Epic they are linked to.

• The ability to make the sound of a dog barking appear (Calamity, dead, page 67, Chapter 9)
  
• The power to create dimensional shadows (Calamity, dead, page 40, Chapter 6)
  
• The power to move or control tectonic plates (Steelheart, unknown, page 237, Chapter 25)
  
• The power to grow fingernails faster (Calamity, dead, page 67, Chapter 9)
  
• The power to grow and manipulate crystal Lattices (Calamity, dead, page 68, Chapter 9)
  
• Mind control (Steelheart, unknown, page 97, Chapter 12)
  
• Hypnotism (Steelheart, unknown, page 97, Chapter 12)
  
• The ability to reduce gravity (Calamity, unknown)
  
• The ability to manipulate photons (Steelheart, unknown, page 97, Chapter 12)
  
• The power to create gemstones or diamonds (Steelheart, unknown, page 246, Chapter 26)
  

Below are powers which are confirmed that no Epics possess, and thus which Calamity most likely does not possess either.

• The ability to create or manipulate gold (page 246, Chapter 26, Steelheart)
  
• The ability to raise the dead (Page 351, Chapter 37,Steelheart)
  
• The ability to cure natural diseases (Page 294, Chapter 35, Calamity)
  

[ADVANCED TOPIC IN MOLECULAR BIOLOGY]
A professor of evolutionary biology who goes by the handle DarwinZDF42 said this of me when I implicitly suggested it takes a miracle or set of miracles to evolve a bacteria (a prokaryote) as the common ancestor something like a giraffe or tree (eukaryotes).
He said it's easy to evolve:

It really isn't that hard, unless you want to either lie or be ignorant.

https://www.reddit.com/DebateEvolution/comments/666psk/the_i_cant_respond_on_rcreation_so_ill_do_it_here/
I converted a pre-med biology student who was Christian Darwinist into a creationist after 1 hour conversation. I didn't appeal to the Bible, but rather the miracles that are evident in God's creation.
All I had to demonstrate was that universal common ancestry would require miracles to allow giraffes and trees to have a common bacterial ancestor. If evolutionary theory needs miracles to make it work, I suggested one may as well become a creationist.
I simply asked the student what he learned in class and then argued from what he was taught. I asked if he learned the important differences between prokaryotes (like bacteria) and eukaryotes (like humans). He said yes.
I then posed the problems of evolving a prokaryote to a eukaryote to the student.
The problem is the origin of chromatin in Eukaryotes:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chromatin

Chromatin is a complex of macromolecules found in cells, consisting of DNA, protein, and RNA. The primary functions of chromatin are 1) to package DNA into a more compact, denser shape, 2) to reinforce the DNA macromolecule to allow mitosis, 3) to prevent DNA damage, and 4) to control gene expression and DNA replication. The primary protein components of chromatin are histones that compact the DNA. Chromatin is only found in eukaryotic cells (cells with defined nuclei). Prokaryotic cells have a different organization of their DNA (the prokaryotic chromosome equivalent is called genophore and is localized within the nucleoid region).
Chromatin's structure is currently poorly understood despite being subjected to intense investigation. Its structure depends on several factors. The overall structure depends on the stage of the cell cycle. During interphase, the chromatin is structurally loose to allow access to RNA and DNA polymerases that transcribe and replicate the DNA. The local structure of chromatin during interphase depends on the genes present on the DNA. That DNA which codes genes that are actively transcribed ("turned on") is more loosely packaged and associated with RNA polymerases (referred to as euchromatin) while that DNA which codes inactive genes ("turned off") is more condensed and associated with structural proteins (heterochromatin).[1][2] Epigenetic chemical modification of the structural proteins in chromatin also alters the local chromatin structure, in particular chemical modifications of histone proteins by methylation and acetylation. As the cell prepares to divide, i.e. enters mitosis or meiosis, the chromatin packages more tightly to facilitate segregation of the chromosomes during anaphase. During this stage of the cell cycle this makes the individual chromosomes in many cells visible by optical microscope.
In general terms, there are three levels of chromatin organization: DNA wraps around histone proteins forming nucleosomes; the "beads on a string" structure (euchromatin). Multiple histones wrap into a 30 nm fibre consisting of nucleosome arrays in their most compact form (heterochromatin). (Definitively established to exist in vitro, the 30-nanometer fibre was not seen in recent X-ray studies of human mitotic chromosomes.[3]) Higher-level DNA packaging of the 30 nm fibre into the metaphase chromosome (during mitosis and meiosis).

Added to this I could have thrown in the problem of evolving spliceosomes and spliceosomal introns and Shine Dalgarno sequenes into Kozak consensus sequences, etc. But regarding spliceosomes:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spliceosome
DarwinZDF42 obviously didn't like the fact I was converting biology students to the creationist view. :-)
See how this professor of evolutionary biology tries to explain how such a system arose:

Because bacteria evolved directly into humans. And we've never observed something like endosymbiosis happening. Except that we're doing just that right now with Paulinella chromatophora.
If you take the most eukaryote-like archaean, and the most archaea-like eukaryote, they're pretty darn similar morphologically and biochemically. It really isn't that hard, unless you want to either lie or be ignorant.

https://www.reddit.com/DebateEvolution/comments/666psk/the_i_cant_respond_on_rcreation_so_ill_do_it_here/
Judge for yourself if this explanation by a professor of evolutionary biology is adequate. :-) I doubt his "explanation" could now deconvert the biology student who is now a creationist.
Does the student's conversion sound unbelievable? Well, we need only look to Gunter Bechley as an example:
https://www.reddit.com/Creation/comments/662oqq/paleontologist_günter_bechly_speaks_about_how_he/

Name: Elizabeth Eastman, Nike
Age: 17
Physical Appearance: Elizabeth is pretty but plain in the bookish, girl-next-door kind of way. She is Caucasian has brown hair that runs slightly past her shoulders, hazel eyes, a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and stands at 5'7". If you saw her in a crowd, your eyes might glaze over her, as she tends to stay in the background when out of costume. She always wears a bracelet on each wrist, both silver dotted by red crosses, and always tries to appear happy and exude confidence, even though she often feels nervous and inferior when she's out of costume. In costume, it's a different matter all together.
Mentality: Elizabeth is very timid, but kind to everyone and respectful of what they do. Like Mark, she wants to believe that people are inherently good and would prefer to settle conflict through diplomacy. She is often awestruck when meeting more famous heroes, regardless of whether or not they are a member of the Protectorate, and acts as a mother-figure to the two youngest members of the Seattle Wards, who aren't old enough to travel to more dangerous cities such as New York. She is also very intelligent, and has won multiple awards as part of her high school debate, speech and math teams. As Nike, she receives a major boost in confidence, and she feels invincible, even though she knows that she's not.
Backstory: Elizabeth's parents thought that she was a happy child. She had a few close friends, was constantly winning awards in a variety of extracurricular activities, and was being offered scholarships from around the country. But she wasn't happy. She never hung out at the mall, she had never been at a sleepover, she had never had a boyfriend...the list of things she hadn't done went on and on. Elizabeth had been put on a pedestal, and she was worried that anything she did would enrage and disappoint her parents. The anxiety was killing her, until one morning, when she decided that she wouldn't let them control her life.
After arriving at school, Elizabeth turned right around and hoped on the first bus to downtown Seattle. While there, she did as many activities as she could that her parents had forbid her from doing. She ate fast food, she saw an R-rated movie, she bought clothes for fun.
She saved a man's life.
She hadn't meant to. But she had been raised to only acknowledge the good in life and to let other people consider the bad. Yes, she might have been a narcissistic brat at one point in her life, but she had changed through the years. So when she saw the homeless man bleeding out in an alley, she knew she couldn't just ignore the bad. She had to embrace the good and evil in life to get ahead. She subconsciously decided to help, when dozens of others were walking by and ignoring the man, and that's when Elizabeth triggered.
When the paramedics arrived half an hour later, they were shocked to see the man standing, a metallic shirt upon his chest. He explained that after calling an ambulance, the girl who had saved him rushed into a nearby drugstore, reappeared carrying a number of chemicals, along with gauze, needles, wire, bandages and paper towels, and set to work. While patching him up, she noted that the stab wound had pierced one of his lungs, and he would be dead in mere moments unless her idea worked. Through a method the homeless man couldn't hope to explain, the girl had used the supplies from the drugstore, as well as scraps of metal she had gotten from a nearby dumpster and thoroughly disinfected using some of the chemicals, to treat the man's wound and craft some sort of shirt out of the materials that would keep his lung from collapsing.
When she had finished, the man asked her what she had done, and how she had done it. She responded that she had no idea, and then had run off seconds before the ambulance arrived.
When Elizabeth returned to her parents, she had her head held high, in spite of the anger they directed at her. It took every ounce of courage she had, but she explained to them who she was now, and that she needed to experience the hardships that the world offered if she was ever going to achieve anything in life. The next day, the Wards had a new recruit.
Resources: In addition to the steady paycheck she earns for being a Ward, Elizabeth also gets paid to design costumes for other heroes. She uses this money to buy new materials to make the costumes, as well as keep the Seattle Ward HQ well stocked with the latest electronics, books and clothes.
Alignment: Hero. Elizabeth believes that doing good is her civic duty, and she's far too intelligent to be swayed by the money or power being a villain could offer.
Equipment/Weaponry: As Nike, Elizabeth is outfitted in one of her custom tinker suits. Her particular costume is a series of interlocking metallic plates that are roughly form fitting, but with added protection. Her face is covered by a metallic helmet that is also part of the suit. It has a silver mouthplate and a tinted blue visor. Together, the two cover her whole face, and her hair is hidden inside the red outer shell of the helmet.
Her actual suit of armor is primarily silver, but has a red cross that stretches from shoulder to shoulder, and from her neck to her navel. Her suit is also crimson from her elbows down to her armored gloves. To complete her suit, she has a red jetpack with two rectangular wings that spread out from the pack to a wingspan of about six feet.
The suit has very few offensive or defensive capabilities. While in it, Elizabeth has moderately enhanced speed and strength, and can fire concussive blasts from wrist-mounted lasers.
While in her civilian identity, Elizabeth wears a bracelet on each wrist, and with a mental command, the bracelets expand to become her suit.
Specializations: While she sits out most battles unless absolutely necessary, Elizabeth is best suited for ranged harassment in combat. She can disorient an enemy with her lasers and flit away to another location before they can get a bead on her. She usually takes a Tattletale-like role, though, sitting back at HQ and relaying information to her teammates through the cameras and microphones equipped in their outfits.
Also, as a tinker, her speciality is super-suits.
Versatility: While creating outfits, she has almost unlimited options depending on her budget and the approved materials she is given to create every costume. In combat, she has almost no versatility, constantly relying on the same tricks to try and get the upper hand. She is very resourceful, however, and she can usually come up with some solutions to any problem. Those solutions aren't always as effective as they could be, however.
Power: Elizabeth's power is twofold. Firstly, she has a minor thinker power that gives her brief moments of super-intelligence. She does not control when this power activates, however, and there have been numerous times in the past when the power failed her by either not activating when she needed it or feeding her the wrong information for the conflict at hand. She doesn't even have full control about what information she receives from her super-intelligence. When the stars align and it does work in her favor, it's clear why she took the moniker of the Goddess of Victory.
Her other power is a tinker power that allows her to excel at making suits of metal. Armored suits, cloaking suits, suits brimming with weaponry...Elizabeth is often hired by the PRT to design the costumes of other heroes or create specialized modifications for them when going up against certain threats. The downside to this is that it takes a really long time to build these suits, with minor modifications to them sometimes taking up to a week, and full outfits taking between one and three months.
Elizabeth's own suit allows her to fly, fire off silver lasers designed to stun and have moderately increased speed and strength, up to the levels of a brute and mover 2.
She is best suited for dealing with non-powered threats, as her weaponry is quite weak.
Example: Everyone loved Starlet.
Men wanted her. Women wanted to be her. Perfect golden curls of hair, charming blue eyes, and a body that was the perfect mix of curves and muscles.
Starlet was humble, though. Her violet outfit, accented by yellow stripes and a garish yellow cape, covered her entire body, leaving only her flawless face with her winning smile to face friends, adversaries, the media and civilians alike.
The clincher on Starlet was her imposing power set. Flight, enhanced strength, brilliant lasers and almost complete invulnerability to anything that stood in her path. Topping it all off was a unique ability that left opponents awestruck, literally. Starlet could create localized zones, one at a time, that forced anyone inside of them to start saying whatever was on their mind. It was almost impossible to be taken seriously as a villain if you were gushing over the hero that stood in your way, admitting that you had a major crush on her. Even worse for the bad guys was when they tried not to think of important, secret things, and they inevitably ended up blurting them out anyway.
Starlet had been fighting the Endbringers since Circe's first appearance in Athens when she was only fifteen, twenty-seven years ago. She had been a part of almost every fight against S-class threats across the globe since. She was, directly or indirectly, responsible for the death or incarceration of eleven of the worst parahuman threats across the world. A living legend, Starlet had been leading the Los Angeles branch of the Protectorate since she had been twenty-three, and only her sense of modesty prevented her from accepting a more prominent position in the Protectorate hierarchy.
Everyone thought she was invincible. Fire, lightning, earth, lasers, fists, energy bombs, spacial warping effects, ice, hurricanes, poison...nothing could hurt her. But something was already inside of her. Something had been killing her, every day, since before she even got her powers.
Starlet had been diagnosed with cancer when she was eight.
And now capes from all over the world had gathered for her funeral.
Elizabeth should have been somber, like everyone else. Major heroes, and even some villains, from Paris, Tokyo, Cairo, London and all across North America were gathered in Dodger stadium, home of Starlet's favorite baseball team, to celebrate her life and legacy, and the mood was so dejected that an onlooker would have thought that an entire city might have been wiped off the map by an Endbringer.
But Elizabeth was just mad. Mad at her power for not letting her know that Starlet had been dying of cancer and telling her how to cure it. Mad at herself for not figuring out how to control her power. Mad at the dozens of media vans outside the stadium, making noise during the silent prayer the capes were currently giving for Starlet. Mad at the golden curls that every little girl, Elizabeth included, had admired being fake.
Such petty things bubble forth at funerals.
Elizabeth looked around her as the bowed heads of the capes lifted up when the moment of prayer ended. To her left were Gray Guardian, Spirtweft and Ember. To her right were Feedback, Acceleration and Infinite Jest. Her fellow Wards. The closest friends she had. She wondered what they were thinking.
Beyond Ember stood Archmage and Arclight, the leader and second-in-command of the Seattle Protectorate. They couldn't leave the entire city unguarded, so they had left the other members of the Seattle group back in the rainy city, and Archmage and Arclight only showed up as a courtesy. Feedback had pressured endlessly for them to bring the Wards along, snd they hesitantly agreed as a last gift to Feedback, who was graduating to join the Protectorate within the next two months.
"Thank you, Gospel. Beautiful words. And Muse. Your group was wonderful as always. Thank you for the music. Let's hear it for Gospel, from the Hoover, Alabama Protectorate, and Muse and her group from the Naperville, Illinois Protectorate. Thank you from all of us who knew Starlet."
A heavyset African-American man wearing golden armor with a stylized eagle helm and a red and blue striped cape took the podium from the parahuman preacher and musical team. This was Justicar, the Los Angeles team's resident weapons master and one of the greatest tinkers on the west coast. He was, of course, in costume, as this particular ceremony was for the caped community only, and the majority of the guests in attendance had identities to hide.
"First off, thank you all for coming today. It makes me proud to look out over this crowd and see so many esteemed and distinguished heroes out there who are taking time out of their lives to pay respects to Starlet. I'm sure she would be honored to have you all in attendance today. I first heard about Starlet's cancer the day after she got her terminal prognosis..."
Elizabeth tuned Justicar out. One of the greatest perks to having a robotic suit of armor as a costume was that she could open up internet tabs in her visor and use them to ignore the outside world, and no one had any idea she was doing it. Sure, it was rude, but Elizabeth had been working on a cure for cancer without using her powers ever since she had heard about Starlet's death. She hadn't made much headway, but this work was important. She kept one tab open on a recording of the funeral from one of the news crews outside, just to keep paying her respects.
She kept researching as Justicar talked, but then something caught her eye. On one feed of the funeral, there was a tiny patch of sky where the cloud cover was slightly distorted. It was so small, that she wouldn't have noticed it without the enhanced optics on her visor, but it was there. She was staring at it, trying to figure out what it was, when her thinker power finally decided to help her out. And the information she got was horrifying.
"Morbid! Above the casket!" she exclaimed, bursting to her feet. The only other person who had been talking was Justicar, so everyone heard her. There was a split second pause as he stopped talking, staring into the audience and searching for the person who had the audacity to interrupt at Starlet's funeral.
Then her words kicked in, and everybody started to panic.
A figure smashed into Starlet's casket on the podium, a pale man dressed all in black, with hair and eyes darker than night. When he emerged from the dust, he was holding Starlet's corpse in a lover's embrace, caressing her chin. This was Morbid, one of the vilest capes in North America. He had two base powers. The first was nothing more than a super-complex regenerative factor, which allowed him to survive anything, although he still felt extreme pain whenever he was injured. His other power was what made him scary. He could take the powers of the last deceased cape he touched, which made him very careful when it came to killing heroes. Starlet had had it all when she was alive, and the tantalizing prize she offered was enough to draw Morbid out of the woodwork.
Justicar had already moved into action, forming a massive axe out of nothing and swinging it toward Morbid. The blow, which would have killed an unpowered person, bounced right off. Morbid narrowed his eyes, gestured toward the hero, and Justicar found himself trapped in one of Starlet's awe-fields.
"You fucking maniac! She was my friend! Kill this twisted bastard! Kill him!"
Spurned by his words, hundreds of capes attacked Morbid at once, either firing weapons or launching into the air. Those who couldn't go toe-to-toe with Morbid took a support role. Acceleration had grabbed the two youngest Seattle Wards and ran off, while Elizabeth caught glimpses of Archmage teleporting throughout the baseball stadium, getting weaker heroes away from the fight.
Hundreds of parahumans were attacking him, but Morbid was barely fazed. Elizabeth knew how to fix that. She activated her jetpack, sending her spiraling into the air, but instead of flying toward Morbid as so many other heroes were doing, she flew out over the parking lots filled with media vans and the adoring public and headed toward the city proper. She knew exactly where she was going: the L.A Protectorate headquarters.
It took her almost five minutes to reach the imposing building, flying right through the lobby and past the skeleton crew of PRT officers on duty to reach the elevator. It took her another two minutes to get to the floor she wanted, and another thirty seconds of running to reach the room she wanted. Elizabeth slammed into the door, knocking it down, and walked into the room.
It was obviously a lab. Beakers and test tubes lined the linoleum counters, and strange plants were held in translucent vats that were being sprayed by a constant stream of chemicals. Thanks to her power, though, Elizabeth knew exactly what she was looking for. She opened up a drawer, rummaged through it, pulled out a syringe, and turned to leave.
And found herself mere feet away from Morbid.
"What? How?"
The black-clad man stared at her, unblinking, as he responded.
"You noticed me."
It wasn't a question.
"Yeah. Yeah, I did."
"You are a special girl." In an instant, Morbid was grabbing her my the neck, hoisting her off the ground. "I commend you for it. I will grant you peace before I kill you."
"Kill..me? You can't! You'd get...my powers, and then everyone could find you!"
"Dear girl, you are daft. You are wearing a suit of armor. I would never have to touch you. So, yes, I could kill you. And I will. One more question."
Elizabeth gagged, but refused to black out. "Wh..what?"
"I was offering you three questions before I ended your miserable existence. You wasted the first two. Use the last one wisely."
There were so many images that flashed through Elizabeth's head at that moment. Her parents. Her friends from school. Her fellow Wards. But most importantly, her thoughts drifted back to the now-crushed syringe in her hand, and the liquid leaking out of it and onto the armored gloves of her suit.
"How...how many died? At the stadium?"
Morbid's eyes went wide with shock. Then, he started to laugh.
"My dear girl, you are an idiot. I give you the opportunity to ask about anything, and you choose the lives of others whom you have never met? Such heroic nonsense!"
His eyes narrowed.
"Less than a dozen, probably. It was far easier to just hide in the crowd. But I will enjoy killing you."
At that moment, Elizabeth reached out her arms and touched Morbid's face to the liquid in her hands. Almost instantly, she felt the tension on her neck release, and she kicked free of Morbid's grip.
"You called me an idiot? Next time, do your research on the local capes before you pick a fight."
Elizabeth sucker-punched the taller man in the jaw, sending him reeling back and blood splattering over the pristine floor of the lab.
"This place? Belongs to a tinker named Mitosis. She makes little pills, unique to each of her teammates, that only enhances their powers. She needs their DNA to do that."
Morbid tried to stand, but a pair of concussive lasers poured forth from Elizabeth's palms and struck him off-balance.
"One of the L.A Protectorate named Tote died last year. All the poor guy could do was open his own little pocket-universe and store inanimate objects there. And now? That's all you can do, too."
"No...no..." Morbid whimpered as he crawled toward the door. He had almost reached it when a shadow crossed over him. The figure the shadow belonged to swung an axe downward, cleaving through the crippled super-villain and sending copious amounts of blood spewing over the lab.
Justicar.
The heavily-armored cape looked down at the bifurcated, yet still breathing, Morbid, his expression hidden behind his eagle-like golden mask. Then, he turned to meet Elizabeth's gaze.
"You did this?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"Yep. Name's Nike, from the Seattle Wards. I just splashed some serum into his face that contained Tote's DNA. Sorry about disrespecting your teammate like that, sir."
"Sorry? Damn. You've got nothing to apologize for, Nike. Whatever you're feeling right now? About how you fought the bad guy, you almost died, but you came out alive, and the villain is still breathing, too, even though he doesn't deserve to? We experience that every day, and it's something you're going to be feeling a lot of in the future. That's called being a hero."

Before the dawn of our own universe, there were two parallel, equal but opposite realms. The first was the realm of science – a place of logic and reason, of straight lines and right angles, of theories and proofs. This realm existed for knowledge and understanding, for measuring and categorising all things, as all things lead to the Great Truth, and it is the Great Truth that science strives for.
The second realm was that of magic – a place of feeling and divinity, of curved lines and bright colours, of mysticism and harmony. This realm existed for love and beauty, and for caring for and preserving all things, as all things lead to the Great Unity, and it is the Great Unity that magic strives for.
These two parallel realms existed alongside each other for a time, if time had yet come to existence. Such as it was, they could not exist together forever. It came to be that the two realms collided, and blinked each other out in a disturbing, singular reverse-mitosis, siphoning the energies of both realms into a microcosm that was a bead smaller than any classified molecule in existence. This small pellet, this All Thing that contained everything from both two causal realms, bristled with the power of Creation.
It happened quickly – if such things can be measured at all using time. The bead ruptured, and the energies of both realms came pouring out. This later became known as the Big Bang.
The magical energies seeded fresh matter into the void, the raw materials for creating stars, planets, asteroids… And life. The energies of science brought order to the chaos after time, tidying the mess that magic had left behind, creating gravity, thermodynamics, and laying the foundations for the genes that would come into use one day, when something eventually came crawling out of the muck on one of these rocks…
2016…
Bob and Sue Welham had decided to have a comfortable, quiet meal at a nearby Clymatefork in Leicester Square. Viewed from outside, it looked homey enough, with an elegant blue design above the door, and its branch name, The Doting Husband, hung written above a circular sign depicting a smiling man presenting a woman with flowers. They both agreed it would be perfect for their mid-afternoon meal. The pub seemed cosy, they decided, and was in fact quite quaint.
The main room, with its multitude of wooden tables, seats, columns and railings on the upstairs sections, was as comfortable as any pub Bob and Sue could care to imagine. They seated themselves at a table near the centre of the room and looked over the menu, while a muted news station with subtitles enabled played on a TV near the bar. A local politician was being interviewed about a recent scandal, and he was fervently denying any involvement.
“A burger with fries and a pint of beer for less than five pounds? This place is fantastic!” Bob told his wife, as she looked over the wines and spirits menu.
“A glass of red for the same price…” Sue murmured. “I’m glad we came here. This place seems almost perfect.”
“One thing’s confusing me, though…” Bob began, his eyes still focused on the menu. After landing on his choice, he focused his attention on the tops of the walls around him, looking for something.
“What’s that, honey?” Asked Sue, still eyeing the drinks on offer. She liked the look of the Wednesday special offer – two glasses of red wine for the price of one.
Bob turned in his chair, still hunting. “Don’t pubs usually play some music? This place doesn’t even have any speakers,” he continued, pointing. “What happens at night time? How do people party without music?” Continuing his search for sources of entertainment, he came to another alarming conclusion. “There isn’t even a stage! I bet they don’t even have live entertainment. Odd place.”
“Oh, I don’t know…” Sue answered noncommittally, then looked up from the menu, “Why don’t we go and order our meals and drinks?”
Bob turned back to face Sue, his vexation momentarily forgotten. “Yeah, let’s. I’m feeling that burger deal.” They stood, eyeing the bar, and marched over in their typically American way. Sue called over the bartender, and asked him for the two for one red wine offer, as well as Bob’s burger and fries.
“Table number?” The man behind the counter asked.
“Uh…” Sue turned to Bob, whose attention was turned to the TV nearby. “Bob? What table are we on?”
Bob turned back, shaking away distraction. “Fifteen, I’m sure. The one by the plant over there.”
“Yep, that’s fifteen. I won’t be a moment with your drinks, and your food will just be a couple of minutes.” The man smiled, and walked off to pour their drinks.
While the bartender worked, Bob continued his search of the premises for speakers, but found none. This place honestly never played music. It seemed sacrilege to Bob. When he returned, Bob asked him, “So, does this place never play music?”
He smiled, passing their drinks, “We get asked that a lot. It saves money on the licensing, and also gives the place its quiet and comfortable atmosphere.”
Bob nodded, understanding, then asked “But what about at night? When everywhere else is partying? How do you have a good time?” There was a peculiar buzzing sound in the distance, and, suddenly, the rich tones of a certain British diva floated out of the aether…
“Tonight, I’m gonna have myself a real good time…”
The music continued, and everyone in The Doting Husband heard it. It was improbable, impossible, implausible, and many other words beginning in “im” and ending in “le”. With no speakers and no licensed music of any kind lying around on CDs or hard drives, how could “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen be playing?
“Where’s that coming from?” Bob asked the bartender, as Freddie began to sing “And the world…”
“I honestly don’t know,” The man looked as confused as Bob. He swung around, looking at his co-workers, who were either as dumbfounded as he was, or were ignoring it altogether.
Sue sipped her wine nonchalantly and shrugged, “At least it’s Queen.”
Bob looked at her through narrowed eyes and began, “Those are your thoughts on—“ but was too distracted to finish. Behind his wife, the TV continued to report the news, but the headline had changed – “STRANGE LIGHTS APPEAR IN LONDON SKY”. Instead of the interview with the local politician, the screen was filled by a shaky, portrait-oriented mobile phone recording of a strange light in the midday sky. The light was rippling, and colours of all pigments and frequency radiated from around it. The light was growing in two dimensions, becoming longer and wider, but not taller – a flat disc parallel to the horizon, like a saucer floating in the air.
And from it, a shadowy figure emerged, silhouetted by the bright lights behind it and blurry from the cameraman’s nerves, though one distinctive feature was clear -
Gigantic muscular wings…
Year unknown…
Still recoiling from the blast in the face, Jacob stumbled backwards and lost his footing. Before his back hit the ground, he noticed the bus stop in front of him. A loud but muffled honk of a horn brought him back to his feet, panicked and gasping, a throbbing pain behind his right eye. In fact, all sounds were muffled: the rumble of the car’s engine, the rush of the air, the frustrated and confused shouting of the woman behind the wheel of the car. Though he’d moved back on to the pavement, she was still shouting questions at him. It took him a few seconds to realise this, however, after taking a moment to recover his bearings and clear his head.
“Hello? Are you listening to me?” She had exited the car at this point, and was walking around its side towards him. She had long blonde hair, appeared to be in her twenties, and wore a casual t-shirt with high-waisted jeans. “I almost hit you! Are you drunk? Where did you even come from? I could have sworn there wasn’t anyone in the road just ten seconds ago. And then suddenly there you were, just – what the hell are you doing?” She flapped her arms as she spoke, striding towards him, exasperation and confusion clear in her voice. Nevertheless, even frustrated, Jacob couldn’t help but fall into her eyes.
“I – I’m sorry, I just fell. I was… Hit by something.” Jacob attempted. He shifted his footing, attempting to look less panicked. Failing. He scratched at the back of his head, in a manner he thought seemed nonchalant.
The blonde woman looked behind him, at the innocuous bus shelter, daringly bereft of attackers. “Hit by what?” She asked, folding her arms, not believing a word he was saying. “And what’s that around your neck?” She continued, pointing at the TIE encircling his neck.
“Uh… A necklace?” He ventured, shrugging. His would-be vehicular murderer rolled her eyes, and at that, Jacob sighed with exasperation. “Would you believe me if I said I was from the future?” He grinned, raising his palms, indicating his honesty.
Raising her eyebrows, the woman replied, “It’s more believable than anti-social bus shelters.” She turned to gesture at the road, “And I guess I’m to believe that’s how you ended up in the road, out of thin air? Some… Time-traveling incident?” She continued, sardonically.
“More or less. I got hit in my Time Eye. Suddenly, I’m here, falling backwards in Abswyth, in the year…” He trailed off, realising he had no idea when he was. “What year is it?”
His new companion suddenly looked excited. She beamed, “So that means I’m the one to tell you?”
“Well… I guess so.” Jacob shrugged, not realising the importance of the position she was to take in his life. “Is that a big deal to you? From your jeans, I’m guessing… Late 80s?”
She frowned, then looked embarrassed, glancing away from him and blushing. “It’s 1996. I guess I should update my wardrobe.” Smiling again, she continued, “And you should know this, being a time traveller and all,” She silenced him as he tried to interject that he wasn’t technically a time-traveller, “The first person you meet, the one who tells you what year it is – they’re the ones you should keep with you. They’re your friends. Haven’t you ever seen a time travel film?” She laughed at his bemused face, then ran back to jump into her car, and gestured for him to get in. “Come with me if you want a lift.”
“Where are you going?” Jacob asked as he walked towards the door, reaching for the handle.
“The library. But does it matter?” She smiled once again, as Jacob joined her in her Ford Fiesta Mark III. “By the way, my name’s Alice.” She offered as Jacob fitted his seatbelt.
“I’m Jacob,” He replied, and they continued along Abswyth Road.
The library wasn’t exactly large, though nor could it accurately be called small. Instead, it was a sort of vague average size, having two floors filled lovingly with classics, contemporaries, non-fiction and a generously sized kids’ and young adults’ section.
As they passed the book chart near the front of the library, Jacob noticed a familiar title sitting among them – A Game of Thrones, by George R. R. Martin. He chuckled knowingly to himself as Alice led him to the main desk. She was here to return three books, all titles that Jacob was pleasantly surprised he recognised: Rendezvous with Rama by Arthur C. Clarke, Claw of the Conciliator by Gene Wolfe, and even Foundation by Isaac Asimov. His raised eyebrows and sideways glance caught her attention, and she asked, “Read any of them?” while the librarian organised the books, ready to place them back.
“Actually, I’ve read them all. I just didn’t think you the type to be into sci-fi and fantasy.” Jacob admitted as they turned to leave, and Alice thanked the librarian.
Alice fixed him with a faux-offended stare and asked, “Why, because I’m a girl?” before laughing gently, and giving him a push. “Don’t worry. I get it all the time, especially from my friends.”
She led him towards the local pub, creatively named The Abswyth, and through the doors. The bar was crowded by patrons either half or fully drunk, though it was only the middle of the afternoon. The reason became obvious once Jacob was fully inside the pub – a football match was on the TV, in all its CRT glory.
Something clicked inside of Jacob. He recognised this match – he knew this match. He’d seen it with his dad when he was only 6 years old. TIE-enhanced, his memory could perfectly recall every detail of the match. In fact, he could recall every detail of every match Manchester United played in the season of 1996-1997. “It’s the 17th of August, isn’t it?” He asked Alice, as they pushed their way through the throng.
“Well, yeah. I thought a few minutes ago you didn’t even know what year it was?” She replied, confused.
“I didn’t.” Jacob checked the timer on the TV, indicating the match was only 22 minutes in. Alice led Jacob towards the bar, smiling and waving occasionally at people she recognised. Upon spotting an opening, she dived in, and was, surprisingly, noticed almost immediately by one of the two bar staff. “What can I get you?” The aging woman behind the bar had to almost yell to be heard over the shouts of the football fans.
“A lager and lime for me, and for my friend here…” She motioned for Jacob to answer.
“Uh,” Jacob paused. He didn’t drink much, but definitely felt like he could use a pint after that ruckus in the Literal Universe. “I’ll have a lager and lime, too.” He also felt he could use the zest.
“You got ID?” The bartender asked, without missing a beat. Though 26, Jacob was scrawny and baby-faced enough to pass for 16.
“Oh, yeah, it’s just…” Jacob reached for his wallet, and realised that in this year, he was technically six years old. He put it back, shooting Alice a glance, which she took a moment to understand, and continued, “Actually, I forgot it at home. I’ll have a Coke, in that case.” The bartender nodded, and began to pour their drinks. Jacob turned his attention to the TV screen. It was coming up on 24 minutes, and the score was still 0-0 to each side. Jacob whispered sidelong to Alice, “At 25 minutes in, Eric Cantona scores the first goal against Wimbledon.”
“Wanna bet on it?” Alice replied, seemingly forgetting Jacob’s unique position.
“Sure,” He replied, smirking, and handed her a fifty pence coin, minted in 2002.

I've gently been easing up to the reveal of magic - the book is mostly sci-fi from the start. But in the eleventh chapter, I decided to include some narration detailing the history of science and magic. Here's what I have:
Before the dawn of our own universe, there were two parallel, equal but opposite realms. The first was the realm of science – a place of logic and reason, of straight lines and right angles, of theories and proofs. This realm existed for knowledge and understanding, for measuring and categorising all things, as all things lead to the Great Truth, and it is the Great Truth that science strives for.
The second realm was that of magic – a place of feeling and divinity, of curved lines and bright colours, of mysticism and harmony. This realm existed for love and beauty, and for caring for and preserving all things, as all things lead to the Great Unity, and it is the Great Unity that magic strives for.
These two parallel realms existed alongside each other for a time, if time had yet come to existence. Such as it was, they could not exist together forever. It came to be that the two realms collided, and blinked each other out in a disturbing, singular reverse-mitosis, siphoning the energies of both realms into a microcosm that was a bead smaller than any classified molecule in existence. This small pellet, this All Thing that contained everything from both two causal realms, bristled with the power of Creation.
It happened quickly – if such things can be measured at all using time. The bead ruptured, and the energies of both realms came pouring out. This later became known as the Big Bang.
The magical energies seeded fresh matter into the void, the raw materials for creating stars, planets, asteroids… And life. The energies of science brought order to the chaos after time, tidying the mess that magic had left behind, creating gravity, thermodynamics, and laying the foundations for the genes that would come into use one day, when something eventually came crawling out of the muck on one of these rocks…
My question is, does that work as a background info? Is it even necessary? Is it cringey or clichéd? I'm going for mostly tongue-in-cheek, with a few moments of "okay, now I'm being serious", and this is one of those moments.

Imagine being a freshman in high school and someone hands you the keys to a brand new, cobalt blue Mercedes. Only, it isn’t a Mercedes, it’s a country. And you aren’t in high school, because high school doesn’t exist yet. You’re Tutankhamun or, as your friends call you, “King Tut.” A fifteen-year old who, if he could, surely would have skateboarded down the sides of the pyramids.
Tut was fond of riches. His famous tomb has been lined with treasures for millennia. His iconic mask, which had the beard knocked off a couple months ago, remains a priceless piece of Egyptian history. What makes the mask so valuable, you ask? First, it’s made of pure gold. Second, it contains lapis lazuli, a striking blue gemstone sprinkled with bits of pyrite, more commonly known as “Fool’s Gold.” The small amount of lapis used in the mask, and the way the mask makers attempted to replicate the blue hue, suggests that it was even more valuable than gold. No foolin’.
The uneducated mind might ask, “Why didn’t Tut’s royal jewelers use sapphire? Isn’t it more valuable?” To that I say the following: sapphire is just a lapis wannabe.
Sapphire may reflect light in a fancy way, but it doesn’t have nearly the illustrious history that lapis has.
Ancient Egyptian scarabs. The Royal Treasure of Ur. Mesopotamian artifacts. Lapis dates back to the dawn of human civilization. Some used it for seals, some as currency, and some even grinded it into a fine powder. In a prime example of historical mitosis, this powder divided itself between two unique purposes:
1) Art.
Can you believe that? You can crush a rock to the point where it turns into dye. This pigment, known as ultramarine, was ridiculously valuable. Imagine that. One missed brushstroke could be a million-dollar mistake. Or million gem — well — whatever currency they used at the time.
“Ultramarine blue is a colour illustrious, beautiful, and most perfect, beyond all other colours,” wrote Cennino Cennini. a Fifteenth-Century Italian artist. You heard it here first. From the mouth of an art legend: lapis blue is prettier than sapphire blue.
2) Cosmetics.
Throughout history, Roman, Chinese, and Persian women have been known to paint their face with this precious blue powder. It might seem a little strange to us now, but — to them — lapis was a way to show off their high status.
Not only would lapis match perfectly with your blue gown, it would make everyone at the ball stop and take notice. How couldn’t they? You have blue eyebrows with golden sparkles.
Many, however, used lapis the same way that we do today: jewelry. Lapis is most often seen in the form of cabochons, beads, and polished palm stones. Italian-born Benvuento Cellini, no relation to the artist we mentioned earlier, made a swan Renaissance Brooch out of the stone. So when you’re wearing lapis earrings, remember that you’re wearing history on your ears.
Robert Weldon, a contemporary sculptor, defied convention when he created a lapis saxophone for his “Symphony in Gemstones” exhibit.
Metaphysical Properties
Egyptians gave lapis scarabs to their dead to prepare them for the afterlife. This is likely because lapis is a stone that radiates healing, love, power, and protection. It can help unlock the 5th chakra (throat) and eases sensations of anxiety and insomnia. It is rumored to boost psychic intellect as well as traits involved in physical restoration.
Lapis is known as a traditional December birthstone. It draws its power from the heavenly body Saturn, making it the planetary stone of Capricorn and Sagittarius.
The Top Reason Why Lapis is Better than Sapphire
Sapphire isn’t even always blue! Sometimes it’s orange. Sometimes it’s pink. It can be any color really. The point is, sapphire doesn’t know what it wants to be.
Lapis does. It’s the blue rock that wants to lead all the other blue rocks. Lapis lazuli is the Pharaoh of the geology world.
TL:DR Lapis has a much richer history.
Edit: Thanks for all the support!