I was diagnosed stage 3 NSC Lung cancer almost four years ago (36 yo male). Family situation was/is My dad lives here in Ohio and so does my brother (34) . My sister (38) lives in Chicago. My mom lives in Florida it comes up here for the summers. I was always close with my family and coworkers before I was diagnosed. I had that overwhelming wave of support you get when everyone you know finds out your cancer. It was all phone calls, texts, and emails for the most part. My diagnosis wasn’t the best as the cancer had spread to my adrenal gland and lymph nodes. My dad really stepped up and he was my rock. I’m lucky I had him during that time. He drove me to chemo the first couple of treatments and sat in on the dr appointments as a second ear. I was going to be doing 5 rounds of chemo every three weeks and immunotherapy for 12. The chemo killed the tumor so they cut out the upper lobe of my right lung. Immunotherapy wasn’t great but I got through it.
I was incredibly happy that I survived it all and got back to work. However some things really bothered me such as my mom never came back home during my chemo. She came home for my lobectomy in November 2020 and visited me in the hospital and held my hand like I was her baby boy again when they removed all the breathing , catheters, and drainage tubes. When I got home I noticed phone calls and texts weren’t coming in. It also bothered me that my sister never came to see me and she’s about four hours away but not four days. My brother was in town and only came once during the year of treatment.
Another thing that bothered me is none of my coworkers would call or text during my time off. I really worried when I got a letter from my employer of ten years that I was terminated. It was a really tough time and I was on so much medication and my whole routine was sitting on the couch and watching YouTube. I slowly descended into a very dark place and became scared of going in public places because I thought people were staring at me because I looked so sickly and dying. My bank account was getting down to nothing and I asked for my old position back and luckily they hired me again. It was excruciatingly difficult physically and emotionally to sell cars that hot summer of 2021. I had heat stroke three months of being back and thought I was done. I was really sick and weak. I was miserable with so many things. When I did see my family I’m sure that attitude wore off and I soon was getting comments that I was too negative.
My kids mom hates me and was in cancer research and sent me this factoid sheet from the American Cancer Association that said my five year survival odds were 3%. She said I was wasting my time I had left. She fueled my fire to live just to prove her wrong but at this point my kid wanted me to die because he thought he’d get lots of life insurance money. Then I had to take custody unexpectedly of that same kid who wanted nothing to do with me. I was barely selling enough cars to keep my job and now had to take care of and raise a 13 year old with angst. That’s when my family truly disappeared and I think it’s because they’re worried my cancer would cone back then they’d have to care for my kid.
Fast forward to now and my son is reunited with his mom. His and my relationship has never been better after getting to spend 16 months living together. My health is I’m still alive obviously but my lungs are getting much weaker and my volume is shrinking and i also originally diagnosed late stage copd and have to take steroids to help me breathe. So my health is back on the downslope and my family is completely gone. My dad never calls or talks to me, and neither do my brother or sister. I see my mom once every couple of months when she’s home from Florida . We’ll go to Cracker Barrel and she’ll give me this half disgusted look and I get about 45 minutes of her time
I’m just sad that they’re gone but realized they’re kind of not the best family so I might be better. I truly believe they were looking at my custody and health situation as a hot potato so they all ran for the hills. Now with my breathing is getting more and more along with seizures it’s difficult and it’s real I’m going to die young and possibly soon. it’s really effecting my memory and stamina. I get confused and need naps. Its sometimes an insurmountable task for me to go greet a customer on the lot and begin the five hour process of selling a car and getting dirty looks from customers because I look like shit because well Ive been through some stuff. My sales are failing and they want me gone. I need health insurance and what little money I do make to support my son. Im worried all this financial, parental, and physical stress is going to bring back my cancer just because im stressed and just feel hopeless. I think of how I’ll die from COPD and how horrifying it seems to die that way. With my family gone and my coworkers wanting me gone I know it will be alone or at a state hospital with some hospice nurse I have no clue is. I don’t look for your pity but I’d like any advice you might have to how I can find solace in this lonely isolated place I’m trapped in. I’m angry at my family but I love them.I feel like I was supposed to die and even though I didn’t die then physically I died to them mentally. Maybe it’s too tough to watch someone you love struggle and know you’ll have to do it again
The only thing besides spending time with my son that really makes me happy is painting. During all of this I somehow found out I love to paint and since a June 2022 I’ve painted a couple of hundred paintings. Painting gives me hope.

*for possible context, i have a branchial cleft cyst on the left side (slowly growing) with a heterogenous thyroid but have yet to see an ENT (in the process of recieving a referral, though). perhaps that has something to do with what's been happening,.*
as the title says, i've (19F, 220Ibs) had something akin to a cold for over two weeks. the first week of infection, i went to the doctors that monday to get tested for the flu (since i had been exposed a few days prior). test came back negative, but that tuesday i began feeling incredibly sick. i was basically bedridden, so i assumed i had a false negative/got tested too early. however, after my exam on wednesday, my condition worsened, thus kickstarting the odd neurological symptoms. the best way i can explain it is i forgot how to speak/type (roommate had witnessed this, paramedics witnessed some of it), my left arm/spine felt weirdly numb, and i had a tickle/heaviness in my chest. *to add, i wasn't really dehydrated, so i wouldn't attribute what happened to that.* i went to the hospital, had my blood taken, and got given haldol and benadryl simultaneously via IV (i had a bad reaction, became extremely paranoid/fearful. hospital staff did not care), and then got told everything was due to low magnesium/anxiety (i don't doubt it, just giving more details about my prognosis).
the following week, while my "cold" symptoms seemed to improve, AKA my throat wasn't as sore (forgot to add that the left side of my throat was/is swollen) and my ears didn't hurt as bad, my fatigue/lightheadedness/almost-fainting-thing worsened, so i went to an urgent care to get tested for COVID, the flu (again), and strep. everything came back negative, and after i told the urgent care provider what i was experiencing, they highly recommended i go back to the hospital. so i did. they gave me an EKG and another blood test, both coming back mostly normal. some of my levels fluctuated (not totally concerned since fluctuations are normal), but was then discharged and diagnosed with lightheadedness (my discharge papers say that's my diagnosis). i wasn't given any prescriptions or instructions on how to proceed with said diagnosis.
now, a week later, i still feel very week and lightheaded. i've always had feelings of fainting/tunnel vision/everything associated with losing consciousness, but it's been progessively bad. i feel like i have no stamina, and even felt exhausted from walking to the grocery store entrance from my car today. i also still have a lot of drainage/leaky sinuses (which isn't usually normal for me, even with allergies), and the left side of my throat is still swollen/tender on the outside (which could be from the cyst).
i'm unsure where to go from here. i made an appointment with my PCP the first time i went to the hospital this month, and the earliest appointment is the 27th. if nothing comes out of that, i won't know what to do. regardless, i just wanted to hear other's opinions/advice/etc.

The Conqueror
He was aboard the Conqueor, training in that majestic vessels Fighting Pits. Akurduana, his sworn shield, was being rough with him today. He had only left Lieutenant-Commander Fabius' Medicae on the Pride of the Emperor the day before and Tessarius' jabs and kicks were opening sutures.
"Throne of Terra Tess," he yelped as the Astartes dealt him a savage punch to the ribs. "Can't you give me a moment to breath!?"
Fulgrim's Muse was answered by a backhanded fist that sent him sprawling onto the sand. The Muse lay there, sucking in sand and air in equal measure. Then he felt Akurduana lift him gently by the neck and stand him up.
"The Primarch wishes you to be combat ready darling. I will mold you into a perfect combatant to fight beside her. I can not fail in this task as you are mine own charge. To do anything less than that would be beneath me."
Tessarius Akurduana smiled at the Muse as the man found his breath and legs once more.
"I'm a Remembrancer Tess. I writre stories of the Primarchs great deeds of heroism and glory so they might live as long as her. I'm not a warrior."
"You are not," Akurduana smiled. "Not yet"
Another hour passed. Akurduana pulled his punches as best he could, but he was still a Trans-Human. A warrior of the Adeptus Astartes. What was the Muse to someone like that besides a bag of meat waiting to be turned into a wet smear on the ground. Lieutenant-Commander Fabius had done surgeries on the Muse at Fulgrims behest. He was akin to some of the Primarch Lorgar or the Lions oldest companions. But he was no warrior. He was a writer. A Rembrancer.
"Come now my friend," Akurduana cooed lifting him up by the nape of his neck. "Still more to learn I think."
No.
"No," the Muse said, battered and bloody.
"I do not relish this task darling," Akurduana frowned. "But Fulgrim has seen me to it...another hour at least."
"NO," the Muse shouted, feeling something well up in his chest and escape through his mouth.
Tessarius Akurduana was sent flying through the air, a billow of sand following him. The World Eaters in the other pits stopped their duels and stared for a moment before the Butchers Nails drove them back into their frays.
The Muse rushed to Akurduana's side.
"Tess! Tess!? I'm sorry...I...I didn't know!"
As the Muse hunched over Akurduana, noting the horrible bruising on his chest the Astartes started to laugh through broken teeth. Lumbering to his feet Akurduana put a hand on the Muses shoulder.
"That," he said spitting a mouthful of blood into the sand at their feet. "That is something we should practice. Another hour darling. Do. That. Again."

23F, occasional marijuana user, no known health issues, takes 50 mg spironolactone for off label tx of acne
So for the last several months to a year or two I have had an area on my neck that swells and goes down periodically. It is located slightly right to the midline of my neck just in the area where my chin meets my neck, maybe near the hyoid bone. I would consider this between submental and submandibular region. When the area swells I can feel my neck quite swollen in this area and that side feels slightly uncomfortable when I swallow on that side. My tonsils are still present but not visually enlarged. The lump is not always present and I cannot seem to connect a trend with it. It comes and goes. It is a hard immovable lump that is not seen visually but can be felt. I had it looked at once last fall when it swelled up by an NP at urgent care. The diagnosis was a swollen parotid gland, however this area is no where near the parotid. I had an ultrasound as well but the results were normal. The lump has returned and I just feel very uneasy about it and have tried researching other possibilities it could be but am stumped. I realize no one can give me a diagnosis, but does anyone have ideas I can look into and perhaps discuss with my doctor? Thank you

Morrigan had just finished talking with her sister Horus. Horus said that father was in fact a sorcerer, a user of the powers that her adoptive father had once used. Morrigan was furious and was about to prepare her legion for war against her father. However, she intended to mull over this information while gardening, and spend time with her Lily. However, as she entered her room, she saw a ghastly sight, something that hurt her to the core, more than anything she ever experienced. Her lily in bed, their body connected to all manner of medicare machinery. Their skin was paler than usual. She could hardly see their chest move, and their body appeared paralyzed. Morrigan came to her lily’s bedside. “Apothecary, what is wrong?” The apothecary looked listlessly at the ceiling, their chest barely rising and failing, their arms limp at their sides. Morrigan felt a tear touch their eye, and they wiped it away. “Apothecary, you must tell what is wrong. Apothecary!” She yelled angrily, partly at her own inability to do anything to help them, and partly at the pain her lily was surely suffering through.
Then she heard a rasping voice behind her. A voice that sounded like a manifestation of someone she knew. “Mother. It seems your attachment to this psyker has nearly caused their demise. Pity.”
Morrigan swung her scythe towards the voice, and stopped shortly after seeing the voice was coming from Typhus, who was somehow still alive. “What do you want Typhus?” She said angrily, scythe placed on the cut that had severed his head. “What sorcery has returned you from your death?”
Typhus laughed, a raspy and hoarse laugh. “It matters not how I am here, but why I am here. I have a way to help your beloved apothecary. I can help them; all I need is your word.”
Morrigan looked back to her lily, seeing the immense pain they were in, then looked over at the vibrant garden they had cultivated. She then looked back to her son, in angry contemplation. “I will not be a puppet to whatever sorcerer has returned you to life. You aren’t a son of mine, and I shall not negotiate with you.” Morrigan once again removed Tyhpus’s head from his neck. She told her sons to burn the corpse and then throw the ashes into space. She would not let Tyhpus’s corruption interfere any longer.
She spent the night tending to her garden, taking breaks to check on her Lily, knowing deep inside that they may never get better. However, when she slept that night, she was taken to a nightmarish realm of her sons fighting against her father, their bodies corrupted by chaos. She could hear the bile filled laughter of a creature in the background, cackling at the disgusting sight of what her sons had become.
Finally, it called out to her. “If only cough you could change their croak fate. If only. You can *sickening gurgle* even help your poor apothecary.” The sight of her lily on the bed appeared before her, and Morrigan could feel a slimy hand upon her shoulder, the bile filled breath of some abomination. “I can help them. All you need to do is complete one little favor for me. What do you say, won't you shake a poor man’s hand?” Said the voice, a hand reaching out from the shadows.
Morrigan knew this must be a trick. She could surely heal her lily without the help of this thing, whatever it was. It may require her to do things she would rather not, but at least she would have a choice. At least she wouldn’t sell her soul “I don’t need your help.” She said stubbornly, sure that she did not need to make this deal as much as the voice thought she did.
The voice grunted angrily, showing her further horrors of the future, of bloated bodies, pestilence and plagues that rampaged her sons, her lily and her home world. “Fine. That is your wish” Morrigan was forced to watch as these visions played over and over in her head. The only way she could think of to escape was the one thing she never wished to do. She dug down deep inside, finding the psychic power she always knew she had, but refused to use. Only with the strength of will could she expel the visions from her head.
Morrigan woke up from her nightmare in cold sweats. She looked over to her side, to see her lily lying to her side, still limp, staring listlessly into space. She knew what she must do to help them, but she was not sure if she was truly ready to use sorcery like her adoptive father, or the Emperor, or Magnolia. She decided to mull over this and spend time in the garden, spending time alone with her thoughts. Perhaps then she might find an answer to her troubles.
She spent days alone in her garden, tending to plants that she could barely keep alive. It gave her something to focus on, something to keep her mind away from the choice she had to make. That was until her sons barged into her room, even though she had specifically told them to leave her alone. She got up, scythe at the ready.
Her son ignored the scythe, stating the purpose of his interruption, “Apologies for the interruption Mother, we are in need of the apothecary. The sick and injured are mounting, and we don't have enough personnel. We will lose more than half of our number without their help.”
She looked over to her lily, still laying near death upon her bed, hooked up to a matter of medicae machinery. “They are in no condition to help my son. But if they improve, I will send them down.” She knew her sons would not understand, and she did not want them to. Not yet. She was not ready to face the facts, not yet. But she would need to do the one thing she swore never to do if she wanted to save her sons and keep humanity safe, especially knowing that she knew her father’s true intentions, or at least she knew what he really was... Her sister Horus was probably letting her ambition run free and was trying to use her against her father. So she was the only one left to protect humanity from the ambitions of tyrants, sorcerers and murderers. ‘Ironic’, she thought, as she prepared to use her psychic abilities to heal her lily, so that they may help her sons, and then help humanity. She placed her hands upon their chest, repeating the same process she had seen her lily use many times in the apothecary when she thought they weren’t looking.
They awoke moments later, eyes flickering open as some light returned to their eyes. They gave a weak smile, their voice weak and raspy. “Is something wrong my M’lady? I feel like I’ve been sleeping for days.”
Morrigan laid a hand on theirs and gave them a glass to drink from. “We will talk later apothecary. Once you are ready, you are badly needed in the apothecary chambers. Incoming injured is overwhelming existing personnel.”
They could not read their lady’s face. Was it concern that they saw, fear, something else? How long had they been asleep? Why did their lady give off a psychic energy they had not before? They did not have the answers to these questions, but they knew now was not the time for answers. People were in need of aid, and so queries must wait. They took a sip from the glass, and then prepared to take on their apothecary duties once more.
Morrigan left, giving them privacy and so that she could see the apothecary, help her sons whoever she could. Maybe she could ask her lily about their abilities. Maybe she could find a way to use them for humanity’s benefit? Maybe it would all be for naught, and she would be right about the nature of such sorcery. But that could wait till later.

Hey everyone, I’ve finally turned to the Reddit community. I’m not sure where’s the best place to post this but there is an element of GERD and is very likely and a root cause for at least a large portion of it so will try here first. Apologies for how lengthy it is.
I’m a M38, obese through childhood and young adulthood, hypertension since teens that was treated with metoprolol (had palpitations as well) and even high cholesterol that was finally treated with statin in early twenties. Around the age of 25 I took last 2 years to lose about 150 pounds going from 360 to 210, (all natural from diet and exercise).
Shortly after this, I started getting one side numbness and tingling, rate headaches, and sometimes along with or separately bouts of chest pain and palpitations, sweating, hot flashes, left shoulder pain, arm pain, dizziness. This lead to a decade long investigation that lead to no real solution. Countless stress tests, echo/ekg, holters, blood work, head and neck MRIs, dopplers, EEGs, etc, no real diagnosis was made. The only thing that change was about 2 years after switched from metoprolol to losartan, as it was more appropriate now after the weight loss, which a doc thought was just the right thing to do and had no explanation for my symptoms otherwise. No more rate control since 2015.
Ultimately, after 10 years of this… For the neurological symptoms, it was a deemed hemiplegic or basilar migraines, with aura, with or without headache. I was told hey, it hasn’t killed you yet, so that alone tells us at least it’s not fatal. For the cardiac symptoms, anxiety or some type health anxiety, or something in the psych realm was deemed the culprit. I was told it’s best you ignore it, or jump on a medley of different drugs, which I was told likely won’t benefit me. Imagine having to live with all this, and being told by doctors to essentially ignore it all. I asked the crucial question, at least to me, that I’ll go ahead and listen to their advice, but what is my threshold? At what point am I to rush to an ER? Most people would run to one if they had these symptoms, as neuro could be stroke, and cardiac could be heart attack. They had no answer for this. After this decade long hunt, I spent a year in misery, personal issues, my blood pressure medications was doubled in dose after a breakup, then doubled again 2 weeks later (it was stressful), all during Covid year 2020. Unfortunately over the decade I slowly gained back 100 of the weight I had lost. Back 290 pounds. During this year I lost 30 of it again, down to 260 In 2021, I had pretty crazy bout of chest pain, and was offered do a coronary CTA, came back completely clean. No obstruction at all in vessels, and zero calcium score. This was reassuring enough to me at least cardiac wise I can rest easy(to some degree). For the neuro side, CGRP antagonist was on the table to try, but it would just be throwing medications at it, along with gabapentin and topamax as options. The latter were tried, but were not tolerated at all. In 2022, I had my first bout with covid, moderate, it left its lingering symptoms (which are hard to discern as I had a large amount of the symptoms of long covid for years before this too) An endoscopy was done. As a GI doc said since you’ve been having such a long list of symptoms for so long, let’s explore the GI route since you’ve ruled out the rest from what it seems. Endoscopy found a small hiatal hernia. And the trail went cold. Can a small one perhaps cause such symptoms?
Which brings us to the most current situation. March of 2023 I decided to do the stationary bike, high resistance and high effort for 30 minutes with HR at about 130, then 5 more minutes I ramped up effort even more to HR of 150. Towards the last minute or two o started getting chest pain. I obviously should have stopped but I figured hey I get some type of pain like this time to time let’s just hit the 35 minute mark. Big mistake.
When I stopped, the pain persisted. And took a while to get better. Like an hour or so. And it felt different than anything I’ve felt before. Felt radiating to arm and jaw. By nightfall it was fine, next morning it all started again when I got out of bed. I wish I had gone to ER so at least they’d run some tests on the spot. I contacted my cardiologist, who I saw four days later. He said there’s nothing to be done, even though I told him these are different symptoms, and seem to come from exertion. He offered me a repeat of the CT or a trip to the cath lab. I let him decide and he went with CT since it was non invasive.
2 weeks later I got the test done, and this time they found a 10% Non calcified plaque in the proximal LAD, the calcium score still zero. He said this doesn’t explain your symptoms, but since we have evidence of CAD, you have to be put on aspirin 81. Additionally, he offered Ranexa, as he thought maybe this could be microvascular disease. Ultimately he did not believe this to be new and different like I’ve been saying and jumbled it all into the last 15 years or so. No enzymes got tested, which I really wish had been.
*****I now had this exertional left arm pain, wrist pain on the outside, numbness, chest pain, pressure, dizziness, jaw pain, pain behind left ear, left side of neck headache, bouts of nausea and sweating, shortness of breath even. This was all way worse than what I used to deal with. And different too
My pcp advised against his trial medicine, as it has a very little success and plenty of adverse effects. Days past by, no improvement, I’m getting these symptoms on the daily. An incident 3 months later in summer after swift walk to the car after eat a large cookie (I include that because maybe it was GI?). For hours I felt tingly in the chest, light headed, just confused. My girlfriend even noticed I just seemed out of it. Chest felt tight and painful. It eventually got better many hours later.
Mid summer I went for a pulmonary consult, at my doc’s behest, only for this doc to rush me to an er on suspicion of an aortic dissection. They did a full CTA of head neck chest abdomen and pelvis….. nothing but unnecessary radiation and contrast exposure.
Late summer I had a week of sweating and light headed ness, now 6 months out from the exercise incident from March. I went to another cardiologist, who had no idea why my pressure was suddenly 90/60 (literally no changes have been made). I was told to cut my medication dose in half. Could this be due to the contrast from the CT earlier??
He ordered a stress test, my first one since then, which came back subpar 6-7 minutes only but I did hit the target rate. I may have called quits 1 minute or 2 early as I saw my blood pressure skyrocketing. It was considered a normal test regardless. That night I had the worst left arm pain lasting hours, but I was told there’s no explanation. I did start getting very intense headaches, ones that I still get
Interestingly, 1 month later, my blood pressure was suddenly now high, 150/80. Suddenly. no explanation why it was low then, and none for why it’s high now. We went back to regular dose of the medication.
I got a neuro consult again to see if it could all connect, autonomic testing was done for dysautonomia, came back normal. Back to Square 1 again.
In the fall of 2023 I tried a bout of PPI as all docs were pushing for this , nothing changed, but it did help with the occasional heartburn I got. I even gave a month try to benzodiazepine as to rule out psych causes, and then tried an Ssri for 2 months. Nothing, other than sedation.
This new year I caved and started metoprolol again. I was told maybe it will help if it’s microvascular disease. It wasn’t exactly indicated but at this point I was willing OT try it all. Initially it had some benefit I think, then dose was doubled in February but not much changed. I still take it presently, as my base HR had recently been higher than normal anyways.
In these last few months, all of this persists. And subjectively I think it’s getting worse. I’ve been feeling cold for months, but then feel like sweat at the same time (not drenched just clamy). Get bouts of nausea even at rest. All of the cardiac symptoms episodic pain dizziness with chest shoulder jaw back neck ear, etc all still there. Even from left arm it runs down like into the palm and pinky. I even get them during sex I just power through. Stressful moments also incite them. I cannot say for sure, but possibly food or spicy food can do it as well.
My cardiologists still believe nothing is new here, even though it feels completely different to me after that exercise incident. They suggest coping as is, or going in for another coronary CTA, or finally take a trip to a cath lab. Essentially they say objectively they see nothing, but if I keep complaining those are the best routes.( I was offered nitro as well but scared to take it) My neuro says unlikely they are related, but it they could be to the possible migraines. At least the new headaches. There’s some possible link with migraine and chest pain. Only way to know is try a cgrp. He’s going with Qulipta. My GI doc says it could be vagus nerve related, and/or esophageal, so let’s try a TCA, amitriptyline. I’ve also been suggested to try a higher dose of Xan.
——— I have no idea which trail to follow????
My labs are normal, -except CRP (I believe around 40 if I recall correctly) which is often elevated, -hsCRP of 1.8 which was moderate risk category, -and CPK which is often high as well around 400 but my docs blame it on statin use or maybe exercise (idk about that no one entertains it as cardiac but they must have their reasons)
I really don’t want to sit on all this and find out later I didn’t take the action necessary. I’m afraid of something serious happening. And daily this is interfering with my life.
My concern is maybe during that exercise I did something. Initially was concerned about damage from really high blood pressure during, coronary dissection maybe? Something else damaged? Or something missed? Did I make something worse? Does anyone think it’s all related to my past symptoms?
What could have happened with this exercise incident??
Any input, advice, suggestions, similar stories, appreciated.
If you made it this far. Thank you so much for reading. Take care.

I recently requested my medical records for the last 6 years because something feels off. Let’s just say I learned a lot. I’m experiencing some strange symptoms and plan to go to my doctor, but thought I would post my labs/urines to see what you think I should ask, should I be concerned, etc.
31 y/o female. 5’5”, 245lbs approximately. Medical Hx includes: ADHD, post partum preeclampsia + HELLP syndrome (2019), mild asthma.
Symptoms: small lump in left side of neck, petechiae on forearms, some red spots on hip & chest, lower back pain, bone pain (mostly right side hip, back, sometimes to leg), +++ fatigue, changes in bowel habits, increase menstrual flow, feeling hot face/arms at times with no fever.
Doc recently told me I’m deficient in b12 and vitamin D (significant drop from October 2023), and high in uric acid (although it did lower since October it is still higher end of normal).
My record mentioned after having my son in 2019 my d-dimer level was 4014, but I never knew this so unsure if I had a DVT or PE.
Thanks for any advice on what I should discuss with my family doc. Info in the comments.

Insert abysses emoji here:
I’ve spent
My entire life
speaking to
people who
weren't even there
A hole in my head
or whomever
went there
Matter fought
Torn, turned
strewn
With spirit
interwoven
yet from one
comes two

Of course
blood speaks
claws and
crowns unique
My oh my
what big teeth
Just you wait
you’re in
for a treat

Past
Forgotten
Memories
Became
Future
Fantasies
All not seen
Is history
kingdom
come
To speak
and glean
all figured
round about
and above
it’s just so
Here we are
all evolved
with nowhere
to go

You think
I am
therefore
you think
You be
you seem
awake
torn the
screen
Unseen
but heard
in turn
baffling words
don’t know when
or where’s now
who cares
what how
It seems it’s
always been
this way
as long as
I’m here
to stay,
I have to
Then ask
is somebody,
anybody
present?

Not particularly
slouched perception
of reality
given, gone
to gravity
that
no one can
uphold
But come and go
no matter what
the story told
doesn’t change
the puppet show
nothing here
to heat or hold
Yet you can
almost see
the seams
the strings
like pixels
on the
bloody
screen

Broadcasting
noisy days
of whores and wars
Profits tend the
flocks and herds
who always
Beg for more
Fuck me!
Fuck you?
They say that too
on repeat now
and forever,
Past unhearing ears,
beyond imprints
of cosmic fear,
what would anyone
in a few short years
care to even
remember?

Anything at all?
The grass was green,
the buildings tall
Wake up
Wake up
Paved dreams
as far as the eye
can wonder

Who were they?
Why were they like that?
Who am I?

Fossils
Fragments
Embodying
our god
Lost in layers
Forgot the cause
A spider man
noble and true,
he saved me
and he can save you
and all the
good people
of NYC
They say
he sailed
with the winds
like insects
on the breeze
just as
winter
come to freeze
over the rest
of the children

Sleight of hand
with twisted knuckle
Gaslit tin cans
young minds buckle
break, snap
icy crack
And chuckle
broken, choking
suns
and daughters
content forfeit
muses slaughtered
nuked and smeared
imagination
ripped from all
New Years
Inched
to edge
afoot, all fears
Manufactured
through the
tears
Mankind
by the neck
Not a
Question
Aion’s shadow
suffer & strife
they say now
they got it right
Or at least they will
come next time

Veritable
redundancy
from past
to eternity
Deeper asleep
the more
we scream
A dreadful
sort of destiny
Paradise
milk and pharmacies
As far as the mind
can pretend
it’s free
Manifest
inevitability
the blood will
spill and flow
like no one’s
seen or known
The future
a vision
to behold

Hands up
inheritance
thumbing down
the reptile bends
evolving into
primate friends
forever
and ever
our means
our end
No good
or gods
can survive
our timely
squander
pain to tend
minds to wander
the death
of minutes
this death
of ours
gone to all
a man
and
more

R.I.P.
The past
exempt
from memory
Kept alive
on drip I.V.
myth is cheap
delusion free
For all this
future rotten
branching tree
Endless carbon
larceny
vestigial minds
to break and take
but gone
is our
handy tale

Of which
We swap and curse
And spit, switch
This fever pitch
changes with
the season
Gone insane
chasing reason
off the
cliff of
Nothingness
Secrets macabre
to confess
vivisection of
eustress
And husk remains
to explain itself away

But the other
side of awake
a supposed
reflection of sapience
to those existing
in the mirror
might recompense
Some imagination
of infinity
Banged out theories
of cosmic Singularities
Against abyss
to which
a self confess
is who or what
contrast to nothingness?
More names and numbers
any sane animal
obviously and
actually knows
(and of course, and you’re the stupid one)

Or it goes,

From no thing
came some thing
Of course we
clearly see
visions in a skull
simply called
reality
Exist for a spot
then you don’t
Some will it fierce
Some can’t or won’t
From two comes one
and one comes too
eye to eye
See through
and threw
Measured in
staggering
metrics

After all,
nothing else here
subscribes
or can pronounce
“Pound of flesh”
ounce for ounce
Surely a jest
No
just count
It out

Zero
Me
You
Too?
One
Done
None
other
animal
can derive
the sum
or divide
the whole of those
whom try to see
or make believe
with simian
ingenuity
The trees here
bare of leaves
shit smeared
where we
sleep and breathe
painted paws
grasping
starry sky
projection screen
Real to what,
or whom?
Or just you
And me?
our
shadows unseen
below so above
sights obscene
An I for an I
a me for a me
Buried in “truth”
in all that we do
there is no you
the lights are off
the flesh is rued
None are home
all are dead
Psychology of an
empty head
A story
once true
is false
and false
now true
On it goes
cuz from one
comes two

Which is
not to say
we’re not sentient
Just what’s lost
is sentiment
And as humor
Goes to shit
the joke is
that’s what
splits it all
right in two

for unity
is a crime
to confess
we love hate
our hates
the best
Unconditionally
full of shit
means never
ever
a moment’s
rest
from
her, him
them,
me and
you
smash
together
one into one
from two
No need to think
it’s just what
animals do
pretending
to live
outside
the zoo
someone forgive
who says what and
what says whom
Now gone
to earth
such
time
as great man
never
returns
spiting
smiting
desperate
reveries
of ghostly
sorts of
certainty
gone now
but heard
and herd
as echo
through
the ages

Fictitious
fragments
of a real
phenomenon
seeing god’s
guts burst out
across the
milky way
-the views!

Splendor
Grandeur
Impressions
Unknown
You hope
You see
Your will
You won’t
How do you feel
illusion it’s called
But the pain
the fear
is oh so real
You can see it
in the loudness
of an animal's
eyes
They don’t lie
only crucify
their gods
pinned
in the sky
But prey
deserves
it’s lot,
Or so
the
story's
told

A dream
beyond dreams
that requires
no questions
No point needed
We heed
no lessons
Life never
needs logic
Or a reason
The story
writes itself
with the seasons
a tale told by
its idiot self
sound and fury
on a dusty shelf

Flies in eyes
Pain on sunny days,
Happiness is madness
Have it your way

Ring, ring
beep, boop
Dropped call
closed down mall
People laughing
before and after
our universe
torn asunder
Right is left
and up
is not over
down is not
the same as under
Mutant from mud
on ground and wall
This ape stands up
and speaks tales tall
no place lower
left to "fall"
Into red roses
and bruises blue,
I think I know me and
I know I know you
Because obviously
from one comes two
THE END

33M, caucasian, non-smoker, social drinker, history of SVT with overall low risk factors. Currently taking Pantapropozole, Carvidolol, Multivitamin, Iron, Miralax. I'll attempt to make this short-winded and hope this counts as appropriate for this subreddit!. Around ~August 2023, I suddenly started having random spikes/drops in my sugar levels, as well as fatigue and notable weight loss (40 pounds over 4 1/2 months). My previous PCP started the workup and over the next ~3 months, I was in and out of hospital admissions/countless doctor visits. Over this time I started to develop more symptoms, most notably night sweats, increasing GI issues, and worsening fatigue/tiredness.
Because the symptoms were mostly non-specific, I had pretty broad, general workups with few things off (my hemoglobin dropped several points in November then slowly recouped back to 15.5. Saw a hematologist and he basically just said "you had a bleed, it clotted off and now you're recovering. If it drops again come back to me"). Full body CT w/contrast, MRI of spine/brain, colonoscopy/endoscopy, spinal tap, echo, CPX, countless blood tests which I would fail to mention all of, but including endocrine/rheumatological and autoimmune markers, as well as viral potential causes.
At some point in December my gp basically threw his hands up and said "we don't have anything to work with, the few abnormal things are recovering". Fast forward to February, I end up in the ER with severe nausea and a dull pain below my lower left rib cage. They do a repeat CT and mention that my spleen is still "minimally enlarged" but there are no noticable masses, and my liver is "no longer slightly enlarged". These are two things I was never told about, I suppose because they felt they weren't significant enough? But made me realize I needed another opinion/better guidance. The radiologist also noted on the report that I had "mild haziness near the mesenteric root of the pancreas level", but "pancreas unremarkable otherwise" as well as normal lymph nodes in the area. He recommended checking for pancreatitis and/or mesenteritis.
I go into a new GP in March. She's fantastic - extremely thorough and importantly doesn't immediately try to blame this all on the easy things. She gets me into GI and hematology (had another GI doctor but she wanted me to get another opinion, as the old one basically said your colonoscopy/egd are normal, come back in 7 years). Hematology came first, and he basically said objectively, you acutely then chronically bled, used up all your iron stores which caused excess fatigue (fatigue/tiredness is still a primary issue for me but is substantially better than a month ago when I started iron supplementation) and now you're recouping. We can do a bone marrow biopsy or a PET scan, but I can tell you what they will show: nothing. I asked about the spleen/livemesentery involvement and he just said "your blood work and scans show no sign of a mass, if malignancy were making you this symptomatic, it would be more obvious and you wouldn't have seen any improvement. In addition your liver has reduced in size and your spleen is still barely enlarged with no signs of mass, malignancy doesn't act this way".
I leave the visit at least more optimistic about the situation, but still feeling awful and like this is some type of GI related malignancy that's killing me, frankly. (As a side note, symptoms became so problematic that I had to stop working full time which has obviously been another stresser during all of this).
Then the GI visit comes (about 2 weeks ago now at this point). We go over everything and he just basically says "let's skip the MRI and go for a pillcam to get a closer look at your small intestines, and an endoscopic ultrasound to take a closer look at your pancreas and this inflamed part of your mesentery". Sounds great to me! I know people go years looking for a diagnosis sometimes, but the last 8 months have been the most exhausting/stressful/longest of my life and he seemed adamant about getting to the bottom of this.
Here's where my concern/question comes in: back in December in my last hospital admission, the hospitalist asked what I thought this may be. I pretty quickly said PC, because of the way things progressed and the initial, non-specific symptoms + sugar issues (which seem to have mostly gotten better? I've also regained 30 pounds since, which is a "good" sign I know). He kind of laughed and just said "your pancreas has been imaged and looked at twice by two separate radiologists and neither saw anything to worry about" (this was before the February scan showing mesentery involvement). I kind of gave up on that idea/worry for a long time because of the assured way he answered my concern over it, but now I've got it in my head that that's what has been the culprit all this time and have been told CT's miss signs of PC pretty frequently, and the mesentery/spleen findings are a result of pancreatic tail or body involvement that's spread, which the GI did mention it was unlikely to be in the head as you'd almost certainly see bile duct involvement/jaundice evidence at this point, or the classic pale/clay stools, which I haven't had.
I know there is pretty strong evidence to this point to suggest it isn't a pancreatic tumor, given 3 contrast CT's now over 9 months with no sign of it, improvement in some symptoms (night sweats are virtually gone, fatigue is significantly better), some of the more obvious/common symptoms not being there, like the stool/jaundice, but instinctively this just feels like the right place to look. I'm not terrified of a diagnosis at this point, but I'm absolutely mortified that this is going to get worse before I have the chance to even figure out what it is because of the things that have continued to worsen (nausea/malaise in the morning especially, tiredness/dyspnea... Well, the dyspnea has improved since the iron supplementation as well, but considering I could get up and run five miles 9 months ago and now a small flight of stairs whip me...). The idea of losing ~6 months of valuable time if I'd pushed this concern harder back in December is also a hard pill to swallow. Speaking of, the pillcam is Thursday, and the EUS is the 28th. I tried to move it up but they are booked out (I feel like I they suspected pancreatic cancer they would have got me in sooner as well) and I don't want to push it anymore in the case that it isn't that, and I potentially take someone's spot that needs it before I do. I guess I'm asking for someone to talk me off this ledge and trust that something obvious wasn't missed, or even recommend I continue to push this as maybe it sounds like a familiar situation someone has witnessed in the past where it ended up being something like PC. I think I've mentally accepted almost every potential outcome of this situation except for that one, which likely has to do with me being intimately familiar with what it looked like in the end for a friend.
That was... Long-winded. Sorry, I tried haha. I wish you all the best of health moving forward!

[OC Intro: The game is modded to increase basic jobs cost, seasonal events are disabled. Much of the crash details are based on NASA/SP-2008-565 Columbia Crew Survival Investigation Report recommendations especially Chapter 3 "Occupant Protection".]
The ship is without power, and Tightniks can't run the radar much without draining the batteries. He has only a few minutes of APU power left, goes over the best clearing he can find, and radars it. It varies by only a few feet from the aerodynamic glideslope there. He spots it out on the cameras and circles to go after that spot. He's only at two hundred feet now. With one hand on the stick, he uses the other to open the pressure equalization valve on the side hatch, then at one hundred feet, gets it undogged. Depending on how much damage he's going to get, it's less likely to be stuck closed and trap him. The dynamic vacuum this pulls in the cockpit rips most of the survival pack data cards from that rack and scatters them across the landscape. Crap, I'm gonna need those! Refocusing on surviving the next few seconds, he turns on the radar for the final approach, takes a last look around, then straight ahead at his forward camera and PFD, he clicks his HANS and shoulder strap locks in; after that, he can barely move, but that now is better than dying in this crash with a broken neck. He's a decent pilot and brings up the flare gently. Bringing up the alpha on this delta-winged ship, he balloons a little, but keeps the nose going up and restores a zero aerodynamic sink rate just above the highest terrain indicated by the radar altimeter. The ship bumps a little in the ground effect, and he can see the radar altitude cycling irregularly up and down about five feet at a time. Rougher than it looked from higher up! The body flap protecting the dead engines hits first, and the nose comes rapidly down. It hits, the screens go blank, and Tightniks is surrounded by airbags, some lifting his feet from the rudder petals and his hand from the control stick. It's blinding, it's disorienting, it's noisy, and, to his relief, it's long! It takes several seconds before the crashing cockpit stops moving. How many times did he flip over? Did he go sideways and roll? Am I rightside up? Are we really stopped on the ground? The airbags deflate, and he can move his arms. He gets his restraints loose and inspects himself. "Uck!" he says out loud (without the 'f'). No broken bones. His pressure suit can take his blood pressure. 116/81, pulse 112, blood oxygen 99 reads off on his left arm, I'll friggin' take it!
The ship is amazingly intact from what he can tell. He can't get any readings. The systems test meter seems to be working, but can't find any voltages anywhere. The ship seems to be completely dead. Behind him, 10 passenger seats are all surrounded by airbags and the back of the cabin ends in some sort of dirt-and-gravel and there's a bit of daylight seeping in around the edges. He was the only one on board, though, so their deployment was mostly academic (they might have stiffened the structure a little during the crash, but that's probably trivial.) Tightniks gets out of his spacesuit. The air on this planet is actually breathable. He gets the hatch open, steps outside and-
"A green shimmer erupts then disappears, and you hit the ground."
The human emerges from the glowing green mist and hits the ground. Groans. Pushes against that ground, trying to get back up. Where am I? What's my name? I remember nothing. Aren't babies born naked? He's got a dark blue button-down shirt on. A uniform? A shoulder patch. Gets up, looks around. I feel really heavy. I'm not that fat, am I? He picks up a small stone from the ground, this also feels heavier than it should. He rises to his feet and holds it out somewhat (he's unable to fully extend his arm) and lets it go. The stone hits the ground near his feet quickly and with remarkable speed. It's the gravity, it's greater than it is on- ...where am I from? This is- ...not my home planet? "Oooh..."
"Ka?" it says.
What is that? It's cute, at least.
It is not tame. He has no hope of catching it on foot. The creature seems to like the berries. Maybe if I gather some of those into one place and set some kind of trap...
33s: First trap.
I got one! The human lumbers up to the trap and gets the catch open. Do you bite? It doesn't matter much to me; I'm so friggin' screwed.
It doesn't. It looks at the human with a sense of wonder, actually. A blink and tilt of the head. Seems almost to be asking, Is it you? My purpose? My savior? Once out of the trap, which is totally wrecked, he has to make a new one from scratch, it follows him around like a imprinted hatchling bird.
Wiry little fella, you are. You're going to need some bulking up to do anything useful. The- ...'trimp', I guess... The trimp seems just barely able to feed itself. The human lets him into the broken ship's intact cabin, and it curls up comfortably in a passenger seat for a nap.
1m03s: Second trap.
"Apparently the Trimps breed if they're not working. Doesn't look pleasant."
What are they doing?
The trimps appear to be androgynous, and these two have paired off in the back of the ship. They're holding something carefully within a few hours, feeding it berries, grass, and- ...corundum.
Corundum?? Whatever that is, it isn't a baby.
1m35s: Third trap.
Only it IS a baby! The third trimp he trapped immediately joined the other two in raising it. They have a strange diet of food the human has found compatible with his own body, but they also eat rocks! They're careful to crush and sort aluminate minerals from silcate ones and only eat aluminate. Actually, they don't eat aluminate, they're only feeding it to the baby.
2m06s: Fourth trap.
All four are raising the same child, who is just starting to toddle. It seems these fellas have alumina or maybe even aluminum bones. The human takes a nap and wakes to find the first child grown up and they're starting to raise a second child, all five of them.
2m46s: Huts.
The human found a working bit of electronics. He calls it a pad, but maybe it's more like a smartphone. It has plans for two residential structures. The first, the smaller one, he can build right away, but the second one needs something called "drywall", and he has to figure out how to make that before he can build it. Huts and houses, apparently.
3m13s: 10 pop, full, first farmer.
The trimp he trained to farm and make paper took an incredible 50 units of food to get bulked up to do the work, and now it's not participating in rearing the child. But less than an hour after the trimp started farming and pulping, the child was out on its own, and the trimps did not start another. The ten seats on the ship were all full. Well, eleven counting the one up front that the human sleeps in. The pilot starts exploring the area.
3m28s: Battle.
Wait, what are you do-
The hostile roars and charges at the human, but one of his trimps jumps in front of him with a stick and they fight. It started right when the human got far enough away from the ship that the hostile non-trimps away from the ship began to regard him as leaving his own territory. After the trimp defeats the first enemy, it continues after other hostiles.
3m53s: Shield I in Z1c5.
The human is easily able to recover the loot in the territory cleared by the fighting trimp. Then he sees something glinting in the- That can't be! What the heck is that? It's a data card that fits his pad. It quite clearly regards trimp combat. He gets it loaded into his pad and studies it. I can do this, it just takes some wood. He returns to the ship to discover that they had already started on a new child before the fighter had even expired in battle. The human concentrates on his research.
4m38s: Mskel in Z1c11 defeated.
The remains of this one seem rather white and shiny. It's titanium! This enemy had titanium bones! He'll store them away. They'll be useful someday, I'm sure.
5m52s: Dagger I in Z1c20.
Where are these data cards coming from? The human wonders as he loads this one into his pad, It's for a weapon it calls a dagger. He blinks. I don't know what a dagger is. I'll take your word for it, data card. Needs metal. He has gathered some, but ore is plentiful. He can just dig and smelt it whenever he wants. For now, I'll continue researching.
6m18s: Arable in Z1c21.
It's an old cave that trimps like to live in. Why weren't they able to live there before? How could these friendly critters be confined to only the exact spot where THAT thing, he looks back where he came from, not remembering that he piloted the wrecked ship to its current resting place, crashed? This is really strange. I'll let them fill up this cave before advancing further. Wait, what about defenses? The hostiles never try to reclaim territory that they've lost, so he stops worrying about that fairly quickly.
8m22s: First hut is 0.3% first ever AP.
The trimps seem fairly easy to please in terms of living quarters. Two move into his first hut and start raising a child. The human has his tent, uniform, and the heater pilfered from his space suit. Not much of a mud fan.
9m59s: Miners in Z1c30.
Oh, what's on this data card? Sl3niw? Oh, I'm holding the pad upside down. Miners. I can teach trimps how to mine ores and smelt met- 200 units of food? Each job is getting more expensive to train a trimp for. He puts his bee nickels to his eyes and spots another data card probably 10 enemies away. "Sc"? Does that means science? I can teach trimps to do science??
13m57s: Scientists in Z1c40.
Due to the expense of training trimps, the human couldn't afford to build them shields until now, he's got Sh1-3 made for the fighter to capture the science training data card. 14m02s: One head went into that turtlimp shell, that of his fighter, but two came out: his fighter still has his head on, and he managed to get the turtlimp's head off. It rushes off after the deadly penguimp in the next cell. The shields are not doing all that much good, actually, but they're better than nothing. The human picks up and loads the science data card and- Holy runny sugar-free fudge crap! 1000 food units, but it'll endow them with the ability to speak. Good. I'm getting bored with no one to talk to.
14m28s: Bloodlust purchased and AutoFight enabled (that delay after getting it is an effect of jacking up the job cost.)
As the human buries this expired little trimp warrior, he comes to the sobering realization that he has more trimp graves in his growing trimp colony than he does live trimps. And yet they seem more hopeful now than before I got to know any of them. They seem to think I'm the solution to all their problems or- Those two look east somberly, then notice that he's watching them and smile back and wave at him. ...one problem that is specific, but very, very huge for them. [The only reason I say 'east' is because that's right on a map, and the game advances right across a row, then up. I might say 'northeast' on occasion for that reason.]
20m47s: Z1c73, Miners taken.
Are you my new mining foreman? The trimp who took to the mining training has dark brown fur that lays flat on its head. It's unusual in not having any bits that stick out from its head, ahoge or whatever. This one is relatively quiet, and while it has assimilated the mining and smelting knowledge, it needs to bulk up to do any mining. Smelting is relatively easy, and getting a strong natural draft going in a furnace is almost trivial with the increased gravity. This trimp builds furnaces like nothing. And likes to nap in holes it digs right on the spot; it's weird that way. [Puchim@s Yukipo, and furnaces are not explicit in Trimps.]
21m58s: Farming in Z1c80.
The resourcing "books" are not data cards but paper scrolls, apparently lost to the trimps. It seems that they were civilized in the recent past and some calamity swept over the planet to reduce them to this. Did I have something to do with it? Amnesia sucks harder than a Dyson- ...what's a Dyson? Whatever, it sucks. This disaster happening just before I crash in the only spot with trimps still alive would be a seriously crazy coincidence! Something is really, really wrong about all this. [The author has not sought or received product placement permission or fee from Dyson Technology Ltd. or any resellers of their stuff, just they literally suck balls and made my favorite vacuum cleaner.]
23m50s: Builder in Z1c90.
They've rescued an, I dunno, gelding trimp? It just started to build a shed around the piled lumber I left to build one. It's really slow compared to me, and just banged its thumb, but it is super cute with that long reddish head fur. That particular trimp is also fascinated with pink ribbons and likes to decorate its head fur with them. Because of its inherent inability to participate in rearing children, it isn't counted in the population. [Puchim@s Io, builder on the basis of Iori seen building in 1x10.]
26m02s: Zone 2, 44 pop, 5.5s RC with Z0/1.
It's some sort of tactical manual - tactical coordination. Coordination! He's starting to sort out some trimpese on the research he has done so far. It needs a lot of metal, so they won't be able to implement it for some time. Hopefully, they're still good one at a time, but these enemies seem to be getting bigger as we go along. Uh oh!
27m33s: Gym in Z2c5.
It's some sort of training dojo or sporting arena. The human examines the ruins, I think I can back-engineer drawings for this, get one built, and see what happens.
29m02s: 1g, 47 pop, 10.8s RC with Z1/2.
The two fighting trimps now with their gym and coordination are dodging and blocking enthusiastically, and making much faster ground against the bad guys then a little while ago when it was just one trimp fighting at a time and unable to avoid the enemy hitting back.
40m46s: Fresh turkimp in Z2c74, 63 pop, 7.9s RC, Sh1-10, Da1-5, Bo1-3, Ma1-3, Hm1-3, 6g.
Oh, wow, the laborers seem really hot after this turkimp. He cooks it up and tries a slice. It's really awesome! I have to work alongside his laboring trimps to share it, but I'm getting used to the gravity now. That scroll we found back in Z2c10 really helped. Trimps' techniques and appliances for handicapped individuals, and I'm really handicapped in this higher gravity. He joins the woodcutters with the turkimp; they're the most numerous resource laborer right now, building more gyms, enough that the block/dodge ability of the fighting trimps is almost caught up to the enemy's ability to cause damage.
43m15s: Zone 3, 63 pop, 7.9s RC with Z1/2.
I'm neglecting my science and trimp scientists are really expensive. Curiously, that grey-haired one can't speak all that well, only says "Tai" and "Shijou", but it can write and draw like nobody's business. It's the only scientist so far. [Puchim@s Takanya: Online references probably still claim that she can utter the first two syllables of any word, but she can actually utter only the first two kana syllables of someone's name, most often the given name of basis human Takane Shijou, who also has that habit. (All the utterances of the puchidoru are based on the speech foibles of their basis humans except maybe Piyopiyo, where I haven't seen anything match up so far.)]
47m32s: Finally, we can make drywall and houses. 59m30s: Z3c77, 94 pop, 7.8s RC.
Oh, those poor things are really struggling up at the front. These trimps are enthusiastic and know no fear, but I still feel like telling them to stop for a while. I don't have the heart to keep them from trying while they're still doing some damage.
1h05m24s: Zone 4, 107 pop, 9.3s RC with Z3/4. 1h15m26s: Zone 5, 120 pop, 8.2s RC with Z3/4.
"What is that?" the human asks. He has three scientists. His first does all the writing, but the other two can actually speak. One of them hops up on a rock spire beside the human to reach his eye level.
At the next ridge line, over the lowest and most passable gap in the terrain, this really mean looking hovering sausage monster.
"I dunno," the scientist trimp shrugs, "But it's making me hungry. Looks like a perfectly cooked frankfurter from here." [John Morell's dubious dirigibles.]
"Oh, yeah," the human nods, "that's a blimp."
"A blimp?" the trimp tilts its head quizzically at the human, "How could you know?"
"I wish I could tell you, little buddy," the human extends his arm braces to descend the pass on the side of the zone boundary in the boss enemy's direction, then grunts, "Let's go kill it."
1h16m11s: Z1c9, 120 pop, 10.3s RC with Z4/5. 1h33m34s: Zone 6, 151 pop, 7.4s RC with Z4/5.
1h33m54s: TP in Z1c3.
"What's this?" the human asks, having picked up the little square document with the curling corners.
"Oh," the hungry scientist looks at it, "It's a garden path, follow me."
"You want to lead me down the garden path?" the human says.
"Yeah," the scientist says.
"Are you kidding?" the human asks.
"No," says the other scientist, "We don't get human humor. Listen, these fighters can't go, let them wear themselves out here, then we'll take the next group through this garden."
"Okay," the human nods, watching two more trimps join the fray as he issues the Z5 coordination orders, "they're doing pretty well after all that block training research we just wrapped up." [That's a common artifact, even in normal games, Z5 Traintacular combines with many gyms, enough population to add several trainers, affording Blockmaster, which is expensive on a run zero, plus a break on Tion Z5, a 40% all-stat increase. I don't think Zach designed it into the game on purpose, it just worked out this way.]
1h34m07s: 151 pop, 10.5s RC with Z5/7. 1h37m44s: Drop from Z6c39, TP for 3.
"Now we have these access map frags we can use to route through the old trimpopoli," the scientist explains, "Atlimpis for food, Morimpa for gems, Everimp for metal, and Impazon for wood."
"What about the garden?" the human asks.
"Well, we got lucky with Tricky Paradise," the scientist says, "but you can randomize the route and maybe get lucky. What's with that look?"
"Somehow, I'm remembering 'frag' as something that blew up with deadly pieces," the human says. [Different video games - ones with better graphics and worse gameplay Ｏ(>▽<)Ｏ]
1h39m59s: Blues back up to the top on series I...
"Tai, Tai!" the first ever trimp scientist stops the human just before he upgrades the mace and dagger to Mk.6 and Mk. 8 respectively. It has a note for him.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" the human asks, "Do you think that's my name?"
"Shijou, Shijou," it nods as though to indicate, I KNOW it is. Then it proffers its note again. The human takes it and reads, "Don't upgrade the first row equipment right now."
"Why not?" the human asks.
"Shijou," it points at the end of the mapped route, where there's a scroll sticking out of the thistles.
2h24m07s: Zone 8, 224 pop, 12.2s RC with Z7/12.
"Your settlement is getting crowded, there's Trimps in the streets, and you're taking heat. You feel a sudden strong desire to create a map, though you're not quite sure how that would help."
2h49m10s: Zone 9, 357 pop, 9.5s RC with Z8/15.
"You can't shake the feeling that you've been here before. Déjà-vu?"
The trimps really seem to like the new high capacity mansions, and the village has rapidly expanded since they started building them.
"There's something familiar about this," the human says.
"Tai," the grey one that writes clings to his arm and shows him a note that says, "Don't give up now."
"We must persist," says the yellow one has found a foothold it can grab onto and grabs the human's shoulder gently, "If you give up to early, we'll never solve this. You'll be stuck here forever."
The human puts his hand over the trimp's paw on his shoulders, then looks at him, "I can die, too."
"No, you can't," the trimp says quietly, "Please don't test that, tall one."
"Death is just another path..." he remembers.
"Gan," the grey one squeaks. [That's the first two kana syllables of "Gandalf"]
"...one that we all must take," the human continues, "The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it-"
"A green mist," the yellow trimp interrupts, "flash of fire, we're all gone and our progress forgotten. The wandering stars return to that day, and you again crash that ship- ...a little better every time."
"Wait," the human looks around, "have I been here before?"
"I-" the yellow trimp tries in futility to share what little it knows, "...or... somebody got just a little coolant into the-"
"Into the what?"
"This side up," the grey one's note says.
"Into the that," the yellow one points at the note, "It really helped. You- ...I don't think we've ever had mansions before."
Well, of course they didn't have mansions before. That was one of my ship's data cards. How did it get way out here? Will anything start to make sense?
3h02m13s: Zone 10, 387 pop, 8.7s RC with Z8/15; '28s: 11.1s RC with Z9/19. 3h16m41s: Tough snimp after food book, L10 rand dept from lo-hi-med 118/25/96, 4 Items.
"That's twice our frags led us to gem-rich Moria," the human says.
"Morimpa," the new red trimp scientist corrects, there now being 5 scientists. [There'd be more if there were more turkimp.]
"The question is how do we use all these gems?" the human looks at the village zoning plans again, "I like those mansions and all, but they use hardly any gems compared to, well-" he gestures at the pile of over two dozen thousand gems they've gathered, "-that! And still a lot of wood and lumber."
"I think there's something," the yellow one sighs, "I wish I knew more."
Quite some time later, after they're done looting that route for equipment plans, the trimps are again advancing through Zone 10, and he hears it.
"Tai?" the grey one wonders.
"Where are you going?" the yellow one asks.
"To the farm," the human answers.
"Whatever for?" the red one seems exasperated.
"Shijou?" the grey one sighs, then looks at the fighting front. It's been around long enough to remember, "Shijou!"
"You guys already get so much to eat this doesn't do you much good," the human explains.
3h32m33s: L11 112/35/78 rand sea, dropped from Z11c6 with disband, 4.
"What's wrong?" the red one asks.
The human comforts one of the wounded. Once trimps start into a zone fight, they have to finish before they bleed out. He's really bothered making them desert in front of that second turkimp. "They had a lot left in them," he sighs, rubbing his eyes, "but we can't keep that much dead turkimp at once, we have to leave it alive to use up all of this one."
"Shijou," the grey one presents a note, "We need this map right away, anyway. Don't worry about it, Tightniks."
"Tightniks?" he looks at the grey one, "Is that me? How do you know?"
"Tai," the grey one points at the top of the human's left breast pocket.
"Ah, crud," the yellow one curls its tail around in front of itself as trimps do when they're embarrassed, "Is that really a name tag?"
The human hadn't even noticed it since the green flash blew up his memory as he was stepping out of the ship.
4h04m22s: Block (sub-8h AP is only 0.3%), taking it, 504 pop, 9.8s RC with Z10/24.
It's a pretty thick book about using shields for block instead of hit points. The pad has the stats analysis. Sh3-1 is only giving us 9% of our hit points. Turning to his trimp scientists, he says, "It seems to me to be worth it."
"Let's," the yellow one nods.
"Shijou," it hands him a note, "It scales badly, but that won't matter for a long time. I think there's a way to undo it before it matters."
"Doing it." The human takes out his pad and starts scanning.
4h29m05s: L14 rand moun 137/26/80 is really good for a lo-hi-med. 4h30m52s: Hotels.
"Ah," the yellow one says, "I knew there was something. That must be it."
5h08m09s: L15 lo-hi-hi rand gard 129/28/82 (just got explorers). 5h09m32s: Picked up Wall.
"Dam," the human says.
"Damn?" the red one chuckles.
"No," the human says, "Earthen wall dam; it's a thing that makes artificial lakes by holding rivers back."
"Lakes?" the yellow one asks, "Rivers?"
"Oh yeah," the human says, "This planet doesn't have enough rain for those..."
5h48m21: Leaving Wall from about c70 to fetch Tion Z15.
"You can't resume the map from the same point if you start another," the human reads the grey one's note.
"We can go back to the same point on that route if we hold there and finish Zone 15, right?" Tightniks asks.
"Shijou!" it seems to be saying yes.
"Yes," the yellow one adds, "but we're out of Series III upgrades, and you need a fresh map route to start up Series IV."
"We should be okay," Tightniks says, "but if we have to start it over, I don't see that being a big deal." As they advance through the rest of Zone 15, Tightniks resumes his usual duties at the research desk instead building and running traps like he was before.
The trimps seem hopeful at this decision.
5h49m10s: Fresh turkimp. 5h50m16s: Zone 16, 1071 pop, 13.4s RC with Z15/75, 13m43s turkimp (skel in c1.)
"Z:16 Seriously? Another Blimp so soon?"
"So," Tightniks lowers his bee nickels and looks at the red one, "is it going to be boss fights at the end of every zone from now on?"
"Hmm," the red trimp looks up past the human at some random rock spire or cloud.
"Well?" the human persists.
"Yup," he says.
"Hmph," Tightniks grabs a Sw3-1 of the rack and advances towards the front, "Before then, we have another Mister Titanium."
"What does he like about skeletimps?" the red one asks the grey one as the human marches off.
"Shijou?" the grey one seems just as confused by that.
"He's not going back to the ship, and he's not getting himself killed," the yellow one smiles, "so I'll take it."
5h58m32s...
"Hey guys, go for the mortar!" the human suggests to his 75 fighting trimps in the Wall's boss fight.
"I can tell from your bedtime stories that you're used to the artillery in that other place," the yellow one gripes, "but fighting works differently here, there's no artillery."
And the human instantly collapses laughing, the scientists a little worried he might have injured himself in the planet's severe gravity. But he's okay, at least physically, "Mortar is the stuff between the bricks, fellas. That's is a brickimp, right?"
5h59m18s: Wall, 1076 pop, 13.3s RC, 1% AP for sub-8h finish, first L16 roll good 156/35/84 moun, 10 for the metal.
Beyond the Wall was a more edenic section of the trimpolis ruins, doubling the production of the lumberjacks. The trimps are actually really happy with the mode of all of the laborers moving between the three big jobs, along with the turkimp, except for the foremen specialized at leading the job. It isn't enough to boost their productivity, but the human goes to them with trays of sandwiches.
6h06m52s: 50 map run 0.3% AP...
6h19m13s: Zone 17, 1141 pop, 16.0s RC with Z16/94, no turkimp.
"Z:17 You climb a large cliff and look out over the new Zone. Red dirt, scorched ground, and devastation. Is that a Dragimp flying around out there?!"
"Hmm," the human surveys the new zone with his bee nickels, "Looks like crap. Any ideas?"
"You're the idea man," the yellow one groans.
"Set the map flag," he puts his bee nickels away, "We'll run a depth for practice and to load up on gems for more hotels."
"Righto," the red one gets to work.
6h44m34s: First DCP. (Draglimp Care Package; I refuse to call it a tribute.)
"Oh," the human says, "It's tame now, so it brings back gems in exchange for food?" He looks at his gaping scientists, "That's what it looks like, huh? Guys? Yo!"
"Tai..." the grey one sighs.
Draglimp, the dragimp imprinted on Tightniks, lands beside the human, drops some gems at his feet, and accepts some scratching behind its horns before diving into the food bowl.
"You tamed a dragimp???" Grey's note says.
"Well," the yellow one huffs, "I guess that happened."
8h18m53s: L20 depth of 154/27/79.
"Mapping up here?" the red one half closes one eye and tilts his head.
"Yeah," the human says while fitting together the depth map fragments, "With the coordination book not right at the end, we have an extra mark of coordination to take advantage of. Let's take our housing up to 2000 or so, shall we?"
"Okay," the yellow one says from a pile of logs, "What's all the wood for?" They had been collecting it for days now.
"The series upgrades follow a rather specific pattern," Tightniks explains, "Just on the other side of this blimp is Zone 21, where we should be able to find the Shield series V, right?"
"Shijou!" the grey one nods.
8h56m17s: 1% AP for 100 map runs, leaving it, 1751 pop, 24.8s RC with Z20/232. 8h56m54s: Zone 21...
"Ooooookay," Tightniks growls, "There is something off about this thing."
"Shijou?" the grey one looks at the yellow one with concern about their human starship pilot friend.
The human stoops, picks up the little green gem on the ridge between Zone 20 and 21, looks at it, huffs, and asks, "Any idea where this comes from?"
"Err..." the red one seems hesitant to say, "I think you made it."
"Really?" the human huffs, "How could that be?" Then he tosses it at Red, "See if anything reacts to it. It might be radioactive, so we should take turns to minimize exposure."
"Really?" Red's holding it now, "What makes you say that?"
"Because I'm pissed off for no reason I can figure out," the human says, "I think it's coming from that."
"Frags," the red one says quickly, "I think it's arranging a route. You're good with maps," it tosses the gem to the grey scientist.
"Shijou," the grey one says hopefully, and has a map drawn within a few minutes. [Whether it looks like the one in Puchim@s 1x61 is anyone's guess. That one annoyed me as well as Chihya.]
9h02m37s: L21 moun first roll was a decent 160/26/84. 9h21m00s: Starting run 5 of that map...
Tightniks had taken his anger out on some food and wood to build about 8000 traps. Now he's leaning against a rock spire in his increasingly tattered uniform. A nap begins, perhaps unintentionally.
Wild trimps are examining the pile, finding it unwelcoming, and also finding no place in the town, just mill about. It looks like they want to help.
"Ku?" it's a blue trimp, probably a farmer waiting for stuff to grow, climbs up on the rock spire the human is leaning against, starts patting him on the head, "Ku. Ku ku." [Puchim@s Chihya.]
9h23m09s: Still working that lap...
Tightniks wakes up from that nap, and the grey one is standing there. "Shijou," it says with a note of concern, although not much of one. The note it holds says, "It wasn't me."
"Oh, what wasn't you, buddy?" He stretches out a bit, feeling somewhat refreshed. It feels like somebody washed his face and hair while he was sleeping.
The grey one is also holding a small mirror, apparently broken off from a larger mirror and with the sharp edges filed down to make the edges safe.
The human takes it from the grey trimp and holds it in front of his face to discover that somebody has bound up all his hair into about twenty little pigtails. He touches them with his other hand to confirm. "Eh, whatever." He hands the mirror back and goes back to sleep. [Puchim@s Koamimami.]
9h30m08s: The following run...
"He's not throwing stuff every which way yet," the yellow one whispers to the red one, watching the human snoozing with his pad on his knee.
"You remember that, too?" the red one asks.
"'Remember'?" the yellow one turns to face the red one, "I s'pose that's better than imagining it."
"I remember it, too," the grey one says via a playing card sized note.
"If we're stuck in a time loop," the yellow one sighs, "maybe this cycle will be different."
"Tai..." the grey one admires him for a moment. Then thumbs in the direction of the mountain, "Heh, Shijou!" it laughs.
9h35m58s: Run 8, c9 of that map.
The scientists nap and take notes, and meditate and take notes, and draw stuff. The grey one often storyboards for the other nine because it's the best at drawing stuff. They have come up with a list, and most probably "order" (they're debating whether their ranking means "order" (sequence of things happening over the various loops) or "frequency" (what proportion of previous loops they have happened in). But they've come up with this, from first (or perhaps most often) to most recent (or perhaps least often):
- The ship crashes (they're pretty sure that happens every loop) - The human builds huts - The human teaches some of his trimps to speak and do science - The human builds houses - The human makes maps - The human builds mansions - The human blows up and gets himself killed somewhere around Z17 to Z21, often on a dragimp - The human only recently/occasionally builds hotels - The human only recently/rarely tamed a dragimp - The human only recently/rarely maps the Dimension of Anger
They're all agreed that that they have never finished the Dimension of Anger. What they are not all agreed on is that they've never done this conference to figure out whether they're in a time loop or what that might mean. [See also Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "Cause and Effect" ...which was sort of a time loop but they weren't going back in time. It's very interesting, but its meta makes no sense - no one ever went looking for the Bozeman in 80 years? No one who went looking for the Bozeman also got stuck? No one noticed the passage of time outside the little area of space where the not-quite-a-time-loop was happening? Errr... sci-fi writers, don't be half-assed about your time loops, lmao! Be like Harold Ramis- ...what am I saying?? (That would be Groundhog Day, which grafted a time loop into a romcom; there are no other sci-fi elements. But it was a full-blown time loop and not half-assed like "Cause and Effect".)]
9h54m06s: Dropped from Z21c95...
I think it would be a bad idea to bypass that green area, as much as I'd rather not face it. Both his domesticated trimps, which are breeding up a new group of fighters, and the wild trimps he has decided just now not to open the traps for, stare at him and point in that direction. He shoulders a huge Shield V-3 and grabs an Mace IV-2 as well and announces, "We're doing it." Thus equipped, he marches off into the Dimension of Anger.
10h27m53s: Taking Pi4-2; recently had taken Pa4-2...
The group at the front had expired, and the snimp in DoAc95 glares at the advancing colony of trimps, which had halted only because of it. It refuses to counterattack the vulnerable colony and its human, instead snorting and huffing, waiting for the next bunch of 232 fighting trimps to come in range.
Tightniks runs along the line of traps, releasing the recently tamed trimps, singing a song that he doesn't remember the meaning of, that he doesn't remember was crafted by an ethnically Chinese guy out of an African language, and later mastered by two caucasians over the internet before they ever met in person. "Baba yetu yetu uliye, mbinguni yetu yetu amina..." because it just happened to be stuck in his head. [Because the Doylian author decided on a whim to. Christopher Tin got it into Civilization IV and at the time (2010 July), I made the best video for it on YouTube, which got subsequently blown to shreds when Peter Hollens and Malukah re-recorded the song from scratch in their own voices and instruments in 2014, pity with no English translation, the purpose of my video.]
Noticing the last batch of metal he needs coming out of the furnace, he waves the waiting grey scientist to fire up the forge [to use the term properly and not as the game does], for it was time to wrap up the forging dies for the Spetum IV, Mark 2 pike heads.
"Shijou!" the grey one cheers, setting aside a snack that looks like maybe ramen, and starts jumping up and down on the bellows handle.
It takes a while for the human to chip out the tip in the two halves of the forging die, and then polish it, and then heat it up in the forge, and then quench it, inspect it, and put it into service crafting thousands of new pike heads for the fighting trimps.
But only one second passed on the map frame clock (10h27m54s) four cells behind that snimp, in the case being brooded over by this huge, and if it's honest, rather concerned megablimp.
10h35m45: Portal PB, 45 He, 4.247 He/hr, 1891 pop, 22.7s RC with Z20/232, no turkimp.
The last head of the map's boss monster goes limp as one of the fighting trimps' mace heads bounces of it, and the huge thing settles on its tail, resting on the package that seems to be the prize of this map. And there's a popping sound, and then something mechanical.
Is that a scroll compressor? Tightniks looks at the package. The deflating monster's lifting envelope material drapes over everything underneath it. "Red, Shijou!" he snaps and points, "roll up that side of it. Keep this part from sucking down on the extractor nozzle!"
All ten of the scientists jump in, literally, pushing the gas in the bag towards the compressor. Tightniks as well, rolling up the front.
Until he kicks, and nearly trips over, a smaller package that might be the explanation for the reason why the center of the monster's defense seemed to be a little away from the big package he could see. It's in the right place, he realizes. He gets it uncovered and reads stenciled-and-sprayed block letters on it:
"DT TIME PORTAL / THIS SIDE DOWN"
Perhaps the Dimension of Anger is so named because of the rage suddenly rising up in Tightniks' throat. It isn't so much as the free-floating aggression suddenly has an answer, there is definitely a fresh batch of rage and anger as he grips the nearest Mace IV, Mark 3 with both hands and gets it over his shoulder, its target obviously this object, anger at the realization he screams at the top of his lungs, "We are stuck in a mutha FAH-king time loop!!" His swing begins. [Tightniks almost never cusses, unlike Snugniks.]

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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 239: Standing Start
A wine bottle rolled against the side of my boot.
Amidst a gallery of stunned faces and open mouths, it was easily the second most lively thing here.
The first was a clockwork doll clutching at her stomach in pain.
“Ahahahha~ ahahaha~ ahah … uck … ack … ughh … ahahaha~”
I pursed my lips.
Still, I said nothing.
For one thing, this was precisely what happened when one ate the mouldy cinnamon rolls combined with any grass growing by the side of the road. If Apple refused to eat something, then so should she.
But for another–
“What … What is this … ?”
It was because the first response was reserved for the baroness.
Her words came out in a quivering tone, matching the disbelief upon her face.
Frankly, she had to do better than that.
Only the wine from the bottle I nudged away dribbled into the soil. And also the line of drool from a comatose farmer. But I didn’t want to think about that.
Still, it was an excellent benchmark. Until her tears could properly overpower the sour aroma from the Château de Riaré Hensoise, I would deem her bawling to be incomplete.
She had a long way to go.
“How … How are you still …” she began, slowly rising from her seat. “This … This is impossible–”
I offered a tidy smile alongside a flick of my hair, relishing in the moonlight adorning my figure.
“I agree. It shouldn’t be possible. But I assure you, my skin is 100% natural.”
“E-Excuse me … ?”
“No magical enchantments. No unicorn elixirs. No witchly glamors. Just a healthy sleep schedule of however many hours I desire and a diet of fresh strawberry shortcakes.”
The baroness mouthed silently at my secrets being revealed.
A strange way of offering her gratitude. Other princesses hounded my door for this knowledge. Given her pale, blotchy skin and lips as dry as a pond in a desert, she should be pleading for more.
Instead, she pointed at the fallen drunk beside us.
“This … This shouldn’t be possible … no, wait … the clockwork doll … did she–”
She suddenly snapped towards Coppelia, her eyes widening.
“Uuh … ahaha … ugh, it hurts ... ahaha … it hurts so much … ahaha … my tummy … aha … oh no … I’m … I’m seeing daisies … aha … I … ugh … I think I need help …”
Coppelia hugged her stomach, writhing like a freshly hatched caterpillar. Her eyes darkened as hiccups of laughter assailed her defeated form.
The baroness pursed her lips.
Then, she turned to Renise instead.
“Did you–”
“A-Amazing! … I … I have no idea what you did … but it wasn’t just wonderful … it was beautiful! The colours! The warmth! It was like a rainbow come to life!”
With a smile worthy of any attendant, the maid brought her hands together in polite applause. Naturally, to be praised for my brushwork was nothing new to me. Nor was the sight of stars shining in her eyes with greater brightness than any in the night sky.
Why, that even came whenever I left my bedroom.
“You … how did … how did you defeat him … ?”
The strands of the baroness’s golden hair began to frizzle as she turned towards me. All I saw were her tonsils. Bright red and healthy. She should be pleased.
“This was … this was no common man … do you know who he is … ?”
Without offering a chance to ignore her, she stamped a foot, pointing at the fallen drunk with maddened jabs. The man offered no defence, now as spent and drained as the bottle beside him.
I raised a brow.
“Indeed, I do. He’s a farmer who made poor life choices. And between leaving his farm and offering his pitchfork to an overly ambitious baroness, the greater was you. My congratulations on being the superior mistake. I acknowledge your triumph.”
Bwam.
The baroness promptly slapped her palms down on the table.
“This man … is Willem of Hagel,” she said, her teeth gritted together. “A man desperate and cursed.”
“Yes, well, to be a peasant is a dire thing. But it could be worse. At least he isn’t nobility.”
A mouth further widened before me.
Indeed, this was a terrible time to realise her affliction. But I was no famed angel of healing for nothing. There was a cure for ambition. And it involved copious amounts of tears.
I was still waiting.
“There is no world in which you should have been able to defeat him … not if half the tales about him prove true … he is a famed opponent … all the while you are … you are …”
Suddenly, her eyes left my face for the very first time.
No longer feeling that my cheeks were in danger of being poked, she swept her eyes upon my person, as though hoping to find some blemish to signify I was as false as a field of corn.
She stopped at the sword by my side.
And also–
“A copper ring,” she said softly.
Suddenly, my 29th house of cards I was subtly constructing collapsed.
… T-The ring!
The blot on my finger! The insidious badge of shame! The symbol of the Adventurer’s Guild!
Why, I’d taken it for granted that my masterful disguise was impervious! But this was no ordinary noblewoman I was seated across!
This … This was one I’d previously sat across before!
I’d made a terrible mistake!
I was mesmerising! A beautiful princess as charming as I was modest!
There was utterly no scenario in which I’d be forgotten!
I … I should have removed the copper ring!
“O-Oho … ohoho … w-what copper ring?” I said, my hands vanishing below the table at a speed con artists could only nod at. “Ah, do you refer to the ruby inlaid ring I often carry on my hand? The one which changes colour depending on the longitude and latitude? In that case, you may very well have briefly spied something which resembled a copper hue. But it is in fact a thing of unparalleled beauty and craftsmanship. Not a disgraceful copper ring.”
The baroness slowly looked up at me, her eyes blinking.
“No. I wasn’t mistaken. I … I recognise that ring. It is a copper ring, the same size and shape as those worn by … adventurers.”
My mouth widened in horror.
At once, I immediately sought a plant pot or a heavy book. Something to immediately erase the past few seconds of her memory.
Why … if she knew my secret, then the shame would haunt me all the way until I’d found something weighing at least equivalent to a standard hardback!
“I see,” she mumbled, as much to herself as me. “I understand now …”
The baroness removed her palms from the table.
She stood up straight, a hard expression upon her face. One which calculated with each passing moment the optimal way to exploit this devastating information.
Then, she took in a deep breath–just as I began assembling the playing cards into a thick pile.
“… it must be a legendary artifact.”
As I began eyeing her temple … I blinked in non-understanding.
“Excuse me?”
She nodded, her frown harsh enough to permanently crease her skin.
“To wear such a plain, ugly and shameful ring … one which utterly demeans your history, your worth and your pride, destroying any semblance of dignity you possess–”
My hand went to my stomach, struck by as much pain as Coppelia had experienced in a single moment.
“–indeed, to wear a ring so easily mistaken as one belonging to adventurers, the vermin of the world … it must be a truly terrifying artifact.”
I blinked.
And then–
“Ohhho … ohoohho! You … You see the truth of it!”
The baroness squeezed her fists by her side.
“I knew it.”
I nodded, my bangs bouncing against my forehead.
“I-Indeed … ! This ring I carry on me … it is a masterful item of supreme quality, passed down along generations of my family! Why, its appearance matching those of rings worn by adventurers is no coincidence! Theirs are based on this very design! Although they have since tarnished it, it was forged back in the first days of the kingdom when copper was greater than gold! Poured within it is knowledge now lost to time! A power beyond compare, called upon from the depths of the Royal Vault!”
The baroness sucked in a hateful breath.
“Then that explains it,” she said with bitterness ringing throughout her voice. “You were able to defeat such a powerful adversary through the use of your family’s ancient heirlooms.”
“Indeed, this powerful ring with a rare ability I cannot disclose defeated a terrifying farmer! Therefore, there’s no need for you to relay any suggestion that I’m anything but a princess, as far removed from the Adventurer’s Guild as hygiene is to their members!”
The baroness gave no response.
A respite which lasted far too short.
“... I see, then it means the plan continues. Different, yes. But I’ll not be deterred.”
She smiled, the familiar sight of aristocratic opportunism mixed with an utter denial of facts shining within her grey eyes.
I could only react with horror.
“Plan?” I replied, convinced she was well and truly several sandwiches short of a picnic. “Do you mean the plan currently lying in a fallen heap beside us? Did you not just say I defeated your farmer? Your only plan now is to decide which part of the ground you wish to offer your forehead to.”
The baroness shook her head with renewed confidence.
“I think not. To defeat Willem of Hagel, you must have expended every effort you had available. Not a crumb of power could be spared, for to underestimate him would have resulted in your certain loss. Meaning …”
Without hesitation, she gave a multipurpose wave of her hand.
“... You’ve nothing left but a sword you cannot wield, and two retainers against all of mine. One of whom is incapacitated. The other a maid.”
She continued to keep her hand raised. Her simple call to arms.
It took several moments before she cared to even look around her.
A sad thing.
If she had, she would have realised the curiosity of her hoodlums was less than their prudence.
She would have noticed the eyes without loyalty, seeing only the fallen figure of a drunk they’d been led to believe was more than a farmer now watering the ground with his drool.
And she would have noticed the state of her dress, as dishevelled as her ambitions as those she relied upon slinked away in search of newer gutters to inhabit, following instincts she could learn as the last of their feet shuffled into the darkness.
The baroness paled.
It was far too early for that. She had no idea Apple was currently resting in her tavern, and wouldn’t be helping her haul all of the goods which needed delivering to a place less damp than here.
But I could sooth her forthcoming backache with a smile, at least for the assistance already provided.
“You have my gratitude,” I said, brushing a speck of … countryside from my lap. “For so long as the nobility continues to concoct slapdash schemes with no hope of success, the kingdom can continue to assign blame on you when all else goes wrong. When the mobs come calling and heads start rolling, it ensures a steady queue of necks can be offered before ours are reached. That is why the nobility continues to exist, you see, despite the ceaseless treason. So allow me to offer a word of advice when next you wish to survive in a position of responsibility. When fleeing, the best defence isn’t to run faster–it’s to trip the person beside you. And this means better hiring practices.”
I glanced pointedly around me.
All this empty space and not even a single eyepatched second-in-command to use as a distraction? An amateur mistake. One the baroness now realised as her mouth opened wordlessly, the realisation of her solitude only now dawning upon her.
Yet all it invited was a newly wrought defiance.
“I do not mean to flee,” she said, her fists tightly clenched. “I am Arisa Sandholt. And even should I be captured here, you would not be afforded a night’s rest. I am not alone. Whether tonight or tomorrow, this kingdom will fall. I am not alone in planning its demise.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, please. Planning my kingdom’s demise is what everyone does.”
“What?”
“If it’s not being actively planned, it’s because someone’s in the middle of planning how to formulate a plan. And then once they’ve finished planning, they wonder why their plan didn’t work as planned. This is not a cause for concern. It’s a sign the world is still spinning the correct direction.”
The baroness feigned a dignified silence.
It was far too late, of course. By default, nobility had no dignity.
Still, I accepted the effort, and filled the silence with a tidy clap of my hands.
“Now, since you’ve no intention of fleeing, you can be useful instead. I’ll require a full inventory of your stock. I intend to requisition every single item you have in your possession. Every grain. Every crown. And every odd piece of tableware, carpet, candleholder and painting you might have.”
I pointed at the barn. A tragic thing to requisition. But if I was fortunate, it’d grow lacquered tiles and bay windows in the short steps between here and there.
Suddenly, the baroness’s eyes widened. The needless defiance dropped alarmingly from her face.
“Wait … what do you mean by that?”
I paused for a moment, puzzled by her reaction.
This was hardly the complicated part.
“I mean exactly what I mean. This should come as no surprise. I will be emptying every corner of the property you’ve misappropriated, including whatever manner of tunnels you’ve carved for your use. Rest assured, I’ll be employing the talents of my retainers extensively. With or without your cooperation, every single inch of your abode will be inspected by myself for the Royal Treasury’s benefit.”
She blinked between Renise and Coppelia. Although one was dressed as a maid and the other now appeared to be napping on the ground, their skills when it came to matters of unearthing valuables in my kingdom’s underbelly was not one I doubted.
Nor, from the way the baroness gulped, did she.
“I can do it,” she said suddenly.
I looked at her in confusion, uncertain what ploy this was.
“... Excuse me? Do what?”
“The items of value. I can bring them out. There’s no need to personally see to such a thing yourself.”
“While I’m in full agreement, I can hardly trust your reliability in this manner. And besides, I’ll hardly be playing the mule. I shall be supervising while closely assessing every item.”
Once more, the tonsils came out.
An appalling disregard of decorum. There was only one time that nobility was permitted to look so horrified in my presence. And that’s if they were copying my own after I discovered a list of marriage suitors posing as a napkin beneath the dessert spoon again.
“E-Even so … as the one who wronged you, I insist on not troubling a princess any further. If you give me a few moments, I can acquire the most important valuables for you in a fraction of the time you’d spend on finding them.”
“A few moments to hide them, you mean. No, I’m afraid that anything you wish to stuff beneath a floorboard will need to be appropriately examined first.”
I leaned away in mild alarm as a bead of sweat ran down the baroness’s face.
A moment later–
She finally did what only someone in her position could.
Adhering to the instincts of all nobility, she swept up her dress and suddenly dashed away.
Except it wasn’t towards the dark forest, to be lost amidst the shadows and the jaws of whatever awaited her there. It was back towards the barn.
I watched as she stumbled several times before even reaching the steps.
“... A desperate sight, no?” I said, with a sad shake of my head. “To throw away all semblance of the image she’d hoped to craft. Now she flees like a frightened towngirl. She should know that escape is now impossible.”
Beside me, Renise let out a hum.
Far from chasing after the baroness, she collected the pack of cards I’d assembled for memory wiping purposes. She began to build a house of cards.
I looked at her in puzzlement. She gave a strangely pained smile in reply.
“I believe we can offer her a few moments.”
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First Previous Wiki
Ezeonwha was walking down a long hallway. The dry and plain painted walls and the pure white lighting of the lower levels of the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office helped to frame the dingy realities of those who could only afford these floors. Not even capable of having windows, these were for those who were the cheapest of the cheap or those who mingled with them. He'd passed several Guides on the way in, their claws echoing in the halls as a sign of authority in this lawless land.
Here, mediocrity was king, and he was a loyal servant. He drew his cloak closer about his neck, unwilling to reveal himself to those who weren't already equipped to see through it all. He was famous enough to be an abduction target if he let his guard down. This place was no exception, though Justicar tried to make them such. Too much security on the higher levels and too little on the lower levels. That was the way of things.
Another hallway, this one marked with bullet holes. Two contractors and a Guide were discussing the pricing of the fix project when he turned the corner. Their voices quieted to nothing, the stillness pressing down upon them with the same intensity as the false lighting. Ezeonwha clacked his jaws, giving them a low bow before continuing on his way. He saw the Guide's eyes light up with the sign of his implants getting a reading. It was another impromptu way of tracking via facial recognition, but it was an ancient practice.
Nothing was new about what the Guides did; only how many of them seemed to be on general patrol. Had Justicar hired more of them or actually done full conversions for all of them? Those arm cannons surely weren't cheap or ethical to insert into unwilling participants. And giving a victim a gun they couldn't be disarmed of was a very bad idea, even for Elders. And Justicar was better than most Elders when it came to abject stupidity. He'd likely only been dropped a few hundred times as a child versus the more likely Elder average of a few thousand.
Ezeonwha chuckled at his internal joke, heading deeper underground into the complex. He was going to a certain meeting, and it would be best not to be late. Even if the Guides tracked him, it wouldn't be negative. The group he had been approached by a few days ago wasn't a terror group. He'd looked them up. They dealt in 'freedom and liberation from all chains.'
The Eyes Of Liberty had focused upon Penny as their latest propaganda target and perhaps as a valuable ally in their fight against all tyranny. Though such a flowery message was likely steeped in idealism for the lower ranks, with more pragmatic and likely richer inner circle elites and leaders ensuring the pot would always simmer but never boil or grow cold. That was the way movements such as these managed to skirt the line between inaction and terrorism.
It was a dangerous thing to do. But these were dangerous times. If Penny left, he'd die. Someone with a grudge would kill him. It was a given, and he'd made peace with it now. He needed to get to work, to help others like him and those worse off, with just a small piece of the meager time he had left.
He was in the system as a friend of Penny, so little scrutiny would fall on him as he came and went. He had a new friend, one who was very interested in connecting to Penny.
The offer had come through his communicator, and he'd answered it given its interesting title. After a lengthy discussion about their goals for him and Penny, he'd agreed to at least have a meeting. He didn't tell them that he had a tracker from Phoebe, which would 'be impossible to miss' if things went badly. He knew the value he had, which was why one of the androids was also accompanying him under the guise of being a Sprilnav.
The android was 'walking' on all fours, its mechanical motion entirely silent. It was obscured by a wave of holograms and hard light holograms that would ensure that it wouldn't be considered suspicious beside him. His only guard was a capable one, and Phoebe had all the confidence of an AI who knew that the destruction of her android would only be an inconvenience for her.
Ezeonwha came to an unmarked door with a well-worn door frame. One knock. One pause. Two knocks. Another pause. Four knocks. He waited, and the door swung open. Eight Sprilnav greeted him warily but warmly, their eyes shifting to Phoebe.
The inside of the room was a dull red, coming from a pair of lights in the center of the ceiling that cast dark shadows near the edges. The whole room felt dark and dangerous, and the walls were lined with guns, computers, and several drones. Shelves and drawers were neatly stacked against the wall, as well as five couches and four double beds with ladder access to the top portions.
Bags of food rested atop a trash compactor unit, and the room service button on the inner side of the wall that Ezeonwha could see in the mirror was worn down to the raw metal. No paint jobs here, only grit and business. The room faintly smelled of body odor and assorted foods. Not entirely unpleasant, but also not what he'd expected from a group with sich a flamboyant name. Perhaps they worked in cell-based units. And that was another thing.
Minds were visible in the distance of the mindscape, but the people here were huddled together mentally. They appeared to be haphazard, but Ezeonwha recognized an old army-type defensive formation a mere step from each of their positions. They were more than they appeared. Though based on how their room looked, they probably weren't veterans, just decently trained.
As they walked through the doorway, a scanner activated. One of the Sprilnav, wearing a headset with numbers and letters swirling on the inner side of the visor, called out: "Phoebe android. Commando variant. Risk assessment: Certain Death. Ezeonwha. Carrying two pistols, one hidden in the pack on his left, and the other tucked inside a strap near the lower bottom of his chest."
That made them all pause, sizing each other up. Ezeonwha smiled nervously, failing terribly to break the building tension once again. His nerves started to get to him, but finally, Phoebe spoke. "Well, friends. I, for one, am happy to talk of the business of liberty. Tell us, what do you have in mind for my friend Ezeonwha?"
"It is not about him, AI. It is about the freedom all sentient beings deserve, and which we shall bring to the galaxy no matter if we are alive or dead."
"An honorable goal to strive toward," Phoebe said.
"Thank you. Your words are quite kind for your type."
"I didn't know I had one," Phoebe replied. "But thank you."
Ezeonwha turned his head toward the Sprilnav with all the fancy equipment.
"What is the best way for me and Penny to help in the fight?"
"The best way would be for you to start killing the gang leaders you come across. Barring that, have Penny ignore the graveyards, and continue freeing the slaves as she ought to. The dead have their freedom; the living need her work more."
"I agree with my companion," another of them said. "So far, Penny has done more for the fight for justice than any other on Justicar in generations, so it is a terrible thing to ask more, but we must ask. Even knowing the terrible toll it would have if she loses the Judgment, Sprilnav are at stake."
"People are at stake, you mean," Ezeonwha said. "There is no need to bring species into this."
"There would not be, but it is still a clear factor," another of them said, a female who looked more shifty in her gaze and demeanor. The Eyes of Liberty seemed like one of those groups with too much division.
"Do you disagree with each other often?" Ezeonwha asked innocently.
"Here and there," the tech guy said. "Not often enough to be a problem, and not when what matters is at stake."
"But that is the thing. How can you agree on when something that matters is a stake?"
"Is this a test?"
"Why would it be? Think of it as a genuine concern," Ezeonwha said. "To associate with your group, I have to be certain it will be resilient to change and risks escalating in the future. If the gangs cannot strike at Penny, they will pick the next best targets. Currently, that is me. If I associate with you in a way they can find out, and I assure you they will find out eventually, you all may be at risk as well. And your group's seemingly cell-based design also means large scale mobilization is difficult, ineffective, and risks severe coordination issues which cannot be quickly or safely remedied without changing core security features of it."
"You deduced all of that from context? You are smart, Ezeonwha. And have a good brain in your head. Everlasting knows we need one of those between all of us."
They all shared a laugh.
"I am not as young as I may look," Ezeonwha said. "Penny is not properly learned of the danger that faces us here. I am. The Underground will kill me when this is over. Do you want to die alongside me, all for your beliefs?"
Silence descended again. Ezeonwha kept the pressure on them when one of them stepped forward. "For freedom and liberty? Yes. I would die for that."
"As would I."
"And I."
They all declared the rest in orders that followed the patterns Ezeonwha was noticing. There were variances in their levels of belief and faith in their purpose. Each person had a different level of value difference, which meant that their lives would be worth more or less comparatively.
Cohesion was weaker, too. Not a full defector team, but likely pieces of several. Was that by design from a higher up leader, or was that just circumstance? Another thing to figure out later, that wasn't critical yet, but he would know before he truly went on any missions with them, if he did at all.
He suspected running messages to Penny would be the majority of their tasks. The quality of intelligence the Eyes of Liberty had offered was substantial. Perhaps enough for Penny to turn herself from a major annoyance to the gangs into an actual existential threat. With Justicar's swarming protection of the Fort Court and the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office, there was a limited amount of things that even the gangs could do. And if the rumors were correct, a Progenitor would be partaking in the trial.
"To be clear, if I join up with you, Phoebe would come too."
"Why would we let an AI join us?"
Phoebe smiled. "Without me, you'll die in this fight. You have trained for around 2000 days. You're acceptable combatants, as is Ezeonwha. But you are fighting in a city, and underneath it. You need to know how to keep a low profile. You need to know how to move through a crowd, get in and out. And you need to keep collateral damage to a zero, or the gangs will use you like they have others who had your purpose and were less careful to justify their 'protection' continuing. If you march in there and kill 50 slavers, if you kill a few slaves or a single bystander in the process, your credibility will be smeared. And frankly, with me on your team, you won't get blown up by an IED when you try clearing your first room in a fortress."
"IED?" One of them asked, while the rest digested her statement, going through various levels of offended looks.
"Your translator is too cheap. Improvised explosive device. Here, that can be old engines, reused oil, cracked plastic, frictional fuel bombs, circuit extruders, sodium splash grenades, as well as the more military style attacks they can pack, from small micro rockets all the way up to lower level fission or fusion bombs. Though if you're in a fight with those things involved, you're already dead."
"Why?"
"Because unless you're Elders, or holograms, a nuke will kill you whether you're right next to it or just inside the same shield. They concentrate the thermal pulse, so your bones would be ash before the pain hit your eyes."
"And what protection could you bring against that?"
"Telling you it's there before you start the attack. That is, if you listen to me. I value your lives over that of this android, but also I value Ezeonwha over all of you combined. I will not prevent him from doing this, but I will have you all know the risks involved."
"We are prepared, Phoebe. We have done much of the training you say, though we do not believe the gangs would plant explosive devices in their own fortresses. There is too much risk around that, with betrayals so common. However, the minefields we have scouted are easy to defeat with the right tactics. Perhaps you can give us a briefing on those, too?"
A challenge.
"I can, depending on how long you wish to do this for. But I have the stamina for either hours or weeks, depending on which you choose."
"What of your batteries?"
"They are of sufficient quality," Phoebe assured.
"I hope so."
Their tech guy nodded, more numbers flashing on his visor. Ezeonwha hoped he had a different way of display, like through an implant or something, for the missions in darker areas. The Underground was, by its name, not a place where much natural light was to be found. And the gangs controlled all the power systems in their territory. It was another part of the racket.
"Why aren't you guarding Penny?"
Phoebe's back straightened, a subconscious posture change to make her seem more confident. Ezeonwha caught the tactic for what it was, though without extensive knowledge of bipedal forms, it was less likely the surrounding Sprilnav knew it.
"Penny proved before a trillion eyes she's capable of fighting Elders, Progenitors, and a Dreadnaught Captain. Not to mention her immense power. I can shoot bullets, but she can literally snatch them out of the air and eat them. She has her own way of doing things, and it is a good way."
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Penny landed in the rubble and headed for the Vaquah with a trail of survivors behind her. Many of them, she could recognize the marks of slavery on, with numbers or brands on their skin or just the trauma crouching in their eyes dulled by the pain of a long life in a work camp. Penny went through the wreckage to the shield surrounding the rubble and the defining line between the rest of the city and the destruction. Several news drones flew above her.
More were arriving from various directions. The soft footsteps grew into a constant drumming sound, like a beating heart of doom. Penny marched with them, heading to the spaceport. A large medical operation there quickly rerouted many of its various branches to the most injured freed slaves.
Penny pressed her considerable psychic energy on the entire group, accelerating their healing, slowing bleeding, and generally repairing their bodies and cells from the trauma they'd suffered. But the cloud over their heads did not brighten. The atmosphere remained tense and mournful. Many of them had lost friends, family, and more. She had no right to ask them to feel any different.
She had freed them, that was all. They were not her servants. She was not their ruler.
Several of them came up to her, offering thanks in the small ways they could. Kind words. Attempts at hugs. Even offers of devout prayer and worship, which Penny respectfully declined. She knew, as did most of them, that veneration for her deeds was inevitable. She didn't want to be seen encouraging it at all, since this was a public place where many eyes were upon her.
She knew that it would be misconstrued as a threat if she did. Religions were some of the most major threats entrenched powers could face if not properly co-opted by the state to suit their needs. And here, the 'state' was a military dictatorship billions of years old, ripened with corruption, money, and the immortality of Elders sporting technology beyond any other in the galaxy.
The sky was blue with shields overhead. The Vaquah hung in the distance, its thrusters gently burning to keep it aloft. A trail of shuttles linked the massive ship with several spaceports, including this one. Penny watched the freed Sprilnav get on it one by one, promising themselves to a new life aboard her ship. Technically, they were citizens of the Autonomous Peoples' Stars.
That protection, Penny knew, was why the Vaquah and its innocent inhabitants were still intact. Elders already had hired mercenaries to attack it. They'd failed, thanks to Rimiaha and Penny, but also the defenses of Kashaunta's Grand Fleet when it was in higher orbit. Kashaunta, despite her willingness to use Penny as she would, also had a certain intelligence and empathy. It was highly selective, and only money and power seemed to flip that switch.
But Penny needed the Elder, and Kashaunta only had use for her as an asset. She palmed the new communicator Kashaunta had issued her after the last one's destruction. Kashaunta's hologram appeared. It looked around, noticing the news drones in the air.
"Not here."
"Where?"
"You will know."
In the mindscape, a Sprilnav appeared on Penny's layer. They felt odd to her, almost like the minds of certain humans high up in the hivemind's network. Penny greeted the Sprilnav warmly.
"Hello."
"Queen and Elder Kashaunta requests your presence on her flagship."
"Very well."
In reality, Penny looked around at the crowd. She waited until it dwindled to nothing, and then spoke.
"Displace."
Conceptual energy twisted, and she stood on Kashaunta's flagship, though nearer to the edge than she'd expected. The Elder was waiting for her in an outfit that looked much like pajamas, though they were under a few armor pieces that appeared anything but decorative. Now that Penny noticed it, it was the same sort of armor that Yasihaut had worn to their last encounter, which interfered with conceptual energy. The Sprilnav were highly advanced. She wondered just how far their technology could go. She'd heard mentions of some ships having artificial gravity, and of nanites and programmable matter. But nothing certain.
"Hmm," Kashaunta said, giving Penny a once over. "You have come back. Shall I assume you are still my ally?"
"Nervous, are we?"
"Nervous is what you should be, Penny. The Judgment is coming. Ten days. Indrafabar and Justicar will both be on the court as High Judges. That is not good for us at all. So I figured a bit of prudence was in order. I have thought long and hard about this, and with the great battles of our time so fast approaching, I figure it is time to mend our relationship before the chasm grows any wider."
Kashaunta motioned to a special looking sword sheath on her back. Slowly, she drew a sword. A Soul Blade. Penny began to draw up her armor.
"Oh, I am not wishing for a fight, Penny. I know the damage you could do, even in my sanctum in the sky. Tell me, do you know how Soul Blades are forged?"
"No."
"Good. And tell me, do you know why they draw so much power to swing, even for Elders and beings as capable as us?"
"I have a few theories."
"I am sure you do," Kashaunta said. "But here is the thing. Soul Blades are typically weapons assigned to highly promising Elders, or even Progenitors. Filnatra, undisputed sword master that she is, can wield them as easily as breathing. If I were to swing this blade, there would be no drawback. Why?"
"Because you own that Soul Blade."
"Because this Soul Blade is mine. It is not just something I own. I own around seven or so more Soul Blades, with some weapons nearing their quality lying in my various vaults even now. You did not detect them, because I willed that not to be. I need you to understand this, Penny. You have power. You have might. But you are not invincible. My Soul Blade, if it struck you, would not cutely separate Nilnacrawla or Cardinality from you. Nor would your speeding space entity be able to block this blade with his flesh. If this cut you, it would release unending agony upon you before you exploded in a burst of burnt gore."
Penny sighed. "There is no need to threaten me. Allies do not threaten each other."
"But you do not see me as an ally. You see me as your means to get through the Judgment. You believe I see you as nothing more but a linear singularity maker, and perhaps a passing curiosity I'm backing on a whim. You neglect to imagine that there might be firmer reasons why I back you, and why more Elders are getting drawn into this conflict. You believe I am comfortable with showing you my more pragmatic and ruthless sides because I am comfortable with the fact that you cannot harm me. That you would not dare to do so, when you need my assistance so badly. That I might even be aiming to normalize my 'new' self with you."
"That is hardly my belief alone."
"Is it now."
Kashaunta grinned. There was no warmth in her gaze.
"Nilnacrawla," Kashaunta said. "Cardinality. Exile. Come out and show yourselves. You are being rude as guests."
Exile detached from Penny's head. He grew into the shifting array of fractals and shapes she was more familiar with. What had once grated on her eyes did so no longer. Kashaunta stared at the speeding space entity for ten seconds, then looked back up at Penny.
"He will not work on us. I will cover his form with holograms if he walks through my ship out of courtesy for my workers and crew, if he cannot."
"I am capable, Queen Kashaunta."
"You are quite knowledgable, aren't you?" Kashaunta mused, looking at him hungrily. "Oh, how I wonder what secrets you have in your head. How many of ours do you know?"
"I will not be taken as a hostage," Exile said.
"You will not because I decide not to," Kashaunta said. "Formally, our species are still at war. There is no treaty."
"The Sp'rkial'nova no longer exist."
"Yes, they do," Kashaunta said. "The name was discontinued for use regarding the lesser specimens we created. But I can assure you, Exile, if you wish to go by that name here, that we still do exist. I am a Sp'rkial'nova in the flesh. In the blood. In the mind. In the soul."
"Say what you will, Sprilnav. It changes nothing."
"On that I agree. Though our views on how things are may differ, and yours is wrong, your opinion is not valuable enough to matter."
She turned to Penny. She would have defended Exile, but he gave her a simple shake of his head area.
Nilnacrawla formed out of psychic energy in front of Penny. Cardi did the same beside her. Kashaunta tapped a claw on the ground. Tables and chairs appeared. A chef brought in food that looked passable and a few decent attempts at human cuisine.
"We do not have to eat, though I would expect that all of you at least sit at the table. We will discuss our grievances, and how to solve them before we proceed with the future. We shall first go to the matter of the Alliance. Penny, many in their number wish to establish contact with you. Do you agree to this? If so, I will add their communicator numbers to the translation program I have reserved for your personal use, in case your own device needs another sudden replacement."
"I agree."
"Good. A first step of diplomacy, I would say. Agreement. Now, Nilnacrawla, you look like you have something to say to me. What is it?"
"Free Meridia."
"Meridia was detonated by planet cracker during the 139th Sector 9 Border War. I am sorry more could not be done."
A cold draft of air rushed out of Nilnacrawla's nose. He glared at her. "You let them die."
"I did not. A Grand Fleet was defending that star system, and three came to lay siege. I am many things. A tactician, a queen, an Elder. But I am not a god. I cannot perform miracles. I evacuated 30 billion people from that world and its surrounding stations before the planet crackers hit it. 4 trillion more souls died in that blast. The best I can do is to offer an apology."
"That will never be enough for what you did. If you had never established your nation, they would still be alive."
"They would be slaves. Chattel slaves, not that cute little 'wage slavery' concept privileged people throw around. Perhaps I should remind you just how much darker that reality would have been for your female descendents, specifically. I am a brutal warlord, a dictator with an iron fist. But my claws do not squeeze nearly as tightly as I could. Metrics say that I could extract at least 370% more profit from my people if I simply enslaved them. But despite the shock this may bring to you all, I do have principles. The Autonomous Peoples' Stars are my people. My nation. My empire, if you think I'm imperialist. But I protect them as best I can."
Nilnacrawla's cold anger didn't lessen. Penny placed a calming hand on his front left thigh. He blinked. He let out a long, pained sigh. And he bowed his head to her. Not to Kashaunta, but to Penny.
"There is no need to be cruel."
"My language was accurate, Penny. He is a strong Elder. Everlasting knows he's stronger than most of these fools. Nilnacrawla was and is a hero of the Source war. I respect him enough not to mince words, or to give platitudes. Coddling is for babies. Nilnacrawla is far more mature."
Kashaunta turned to Cardi. "You have been remarkably silent in this, concept."
"I have."
"A wonderfully succinct statement. Perhaps you can shorten it further. But nevertheless, you and I will be working together with Penny much more in the near future. Rest assured, if you refuse to become more independent, you will be nothing more than a crutch for her to rely on before leaving her to fall when you are ripped away."
"When, Elder? I would like to think your protection is sufficient."
"I am sure the truth is quite the opposite, dear. I will now get to the point. Penny needs to move faster, and needs to break out of her shell. She needs to be pushed to do more. She has signed a binding treaty, which shows she is capable of more than barbarian aliens, as some Elders would call her. You, Cardinality, will help her be a high achiever. To do this, you need to learn more about your own history.
That is the theme of the year, after all. History. My history, Penny's history, Sprilnav history, and even Gaia's history, it would seem."
"Gaia? What do they have to do with all of this?" Penny asked.
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that."
"Excuse me? You don't get to decide that, Kashaunta. You will tell me. I refuse to be coddled, like you say. I demand the respect I am owed."
"You forget yourself, Penny."
"I remember myself, actually. I am all I need to be. I can become all I need if I must. You can hold your backing against me all you want, but you won't withdraw it. As you said, more binds you and I than mere money and ideology."
"And if you're wrong?"
"Then I've doomed my species and my nation to war, and this planet to the full power of my wrath."
"Wrath, Penny. Wrath. The Sprilnav have many words for anger, rage, hatred. There is the desire for vengeance, in varying degrees. There is that for justice, which does differ. And that for belonging. I know you believe you are standing up to me as a way to assert your own authority in this relationship of ours. You believe I see you as inferior, and will pull back my help when it is profitable for me. I will not offer you the consequences of what your words could mean.
You already know them, and that argument is as stale as your view on us Elders. I will say this once, Penny. You are the Champion of Humanity. The apex predator of your planet, the only one mostly in charge of an Alliance that does more than merely dream of overthrowing us. It is easy for me to say you are not a threat, though I do not ignore the threat you and your nation are trying to become. Gaia will be a part of your movement, but even my information is not entirely complete. I will not mislead you by claiming I know Gaia's link to this, just that there likely is one.
And I am not unreasonably petty. I am willing to put all our animosity behind us and start anew. Even if you are not willing to do the same, I am willing to make this work for us. You have more people to care for than just the Alliance, now. Do not forget them."
"A lot of words that mean nothing."
"Because you heard, but did not listen. Perhaps it will be easier this way, Penny. I want you to win."
"Explain."
"You wish to overthrow the current Sprilnav led order of the galaxy. Your path to that will likely be through mass slave revolt. A viable strategy that I could spread far beyond just this planet. And I actually agree with you. This Judgment, this utter insanity around the Alliance and your species has shown me the truth. The Elders as a class and a species cannot be trusted to rule any longer. We need new leaders. Better leaders."
"And yourself?"
"As the hypocrite that I am, and the power-hungry ruler of the Sprilnav, I would obviously exclude myself from that number. Let's be realistic. The Sprilnav will never accept a non-Elder ruler. If you wish to see what our insurgencies would be like, imagine the 2090s Struggles of Asia. Expand that to billions of planets, large and small. Countless ships and space stations. We have more collective ships than you have people. And as your military planners know, there is no such thing as an unarmed ship. Without us, without me, your plans are stillborn. Your galactic Alliance or whatever you make will fall to pieces without proper counseling. In essence, my offer to you, and you alone, is this. The galaxy, for the Sprilnav."
"Who backs your offer, with the power to give it?"
Progenitors Lecalicus and Nova appeared in the room.
"I back Kashaunta," Lecalicus wheezed.
"I observe her offer, and wish it a proper outcome," Nova said.
"Thank you, esteemed Progenitors," Kashaunta said, standing just to bow to them. Penny stared at Nova, balling her fists.
"There will be time for battle later," he said. "But not now. Hear out her request. She does not make it lightly."
The Progenitors disappeared.
"If I accept your offer, it will be on a written record."
"No. It will not be, because if that record is written, my nation will be facing war on all sides. A better idea would be for us to keep this under wraps."
"Perfect for betrayal," Nilnacrawla muttered.
"It would be, yes. But consider the second part of this situation, Nilncrawla. If word of this galactic offer, not just the Pact, were to get out, which is why two Progenitors who know the price of interference were called here, it would mean the deaths of Penny and all her kind. Or do you forget what rapidly approaches us?"
Nilnacrawla frowned. "I did. I apologize, Penny."
Kashaunta spoke up again.
"Penny. You believe I will betray you. So I make an offer of collateral. An offer so unbelievably sacred for us Elders that many would recoil at the mere thought of it. Now that you have signed a backed treaty, you are fully qualified."
Kashaunta grabbed her Soul Blade and presented it to Penny.
"What does this mean?"
"Nilnacrawla, tell her," Kashaunta said. "She will trust your mouth more than mine."
"Bonded Soul Blades are priceless artifacts," Nilnacrawla said. "To offer one to another is the ultimate gesture of trust and respect among many martial Sprilnav cultures. It can also allow for a mind bridge, a soul pact, or a proposal for marriage between two great houses, martial families, or Elders of great wealth and power. To offer this to a human... to anyone... is an ultimate sign of backing, and one of trust.
It is a sacrosanct honor, the absolute agreement of speaking truth and respect. The words I can use in any human language are insufficient to describe the weight of this honor. This gesture is one of absolute truth. Family lines with hatred going back millions of years would never dare to violate this honor."
"Only one Elder in history did so, one who once led a group known as the Stannic Resistance. He does so no longer. Penny Balica, Champion of Humanity... if there is nothing else I can give you to prove that I do really back you, there is this."
"...Just how low are my chances in the Judgment for you to resort to this?" Penny asked.
"They are not zero, but your battle with be incredibly difficult even with this boon of mine. The future of the galaxy, I now realize, hinges on the outcome of this. If we do not have enough trust, they will sniff it out, and we will fail."
So she had no choice. But as Nilncrawla continued to explain in her mind, Kashaunta was getting the worse side of the deal. Which meant she was throwing her backing behind Penny for real, beyond all reproach and retraction. Kashaunta, the most powerful Elder in the galaxy.
"And if I reject this gift, or your reasons for it?"
"Circumstances would demand that I kill you and then myself using this blade as a way to cut apart the dishonor, before my remains are dumped into a black hole to be forgotten forever. I would not do this."
"A dark and archaic custom," Penny said. She would have said more, but she looked at Nilnacrawla's face. He was clearly deeply uncomfortable. Her five words had shaken him more than anything she'd ever said to him before.
"You do not understand," Nilnacrawla said. "This is not something to joke or lie about. With a Soul Blade Pact in play, all else must cease. Right now, there is you, and there is her. Accept or decline. The choice, your only choice, is yours."
"How will this look to the Elders in the court? To the Sprilnav, and the people who back me?"
She could see how it would be a boon and a curse.
"You, and I," Kashaunta said. "The whole of the universe between us right now is you and I. No others exist until this one act is done. There will be trust or there will be death. No in between. No middle ground. The nature of this bond will be a Pact of Blades."
Conceptual energy swirled between them. Penny's natural translation, as part of the hivemind, failed for the first time ever. Her communicator likewise did not translate the words Kashaunta spoke.
"Eis nama kaste Penny Balica, sun lanci Dorima Kashaunta. Ko'ri, lanci nupa bes na Dorima'Pecunyanova. Sp'rkial'nova. Sun. Homo Sapiens."
The air grew thick with tension. It was not just emotional, either. Psychic and conceptual energy gathered. The mindscape started to distort as more and more eyes began to view Kashaunta and Penny. But all of them were Sprilnav eyes. All of them were Progenitors. Nova's appeared brightest and largest, nearly six times the size of the next largest pair. They stared at her, sending psychic and conceptual energy down upon her in waves that forced her and Kashaunta to kneel to the ground.
"I apologize for my earlier words," Penny said. "I should not have denigrated this."
Penny stood for an hour, deeply contemplating the Pact. If it was as Nilnacrawla was describing to her, it was a promise that Kashaunta would not break. If she was offering it at all, especially to Penny, it meant she had a level of trust in Penny's capability far above what Penny had previously thought. Apparently, there were even higher agreements than this that were possible, with this Pact being the lowest level of bond and considered unbreakable with the enforcement of consequences coming from the Progenitors themselves.
She thought of her place in Justicar and the wider universe. Hours passed like water. And then, by the end of it, after nearly 19 hours, Penny finally had decided. She gave a short nod to Kashaunta, who had been kneeling to Nova all this time.
Kashaunta gestured at the sword. "Tol, nopa shikai."
Nilnacrawla fed her a few suggestions on what she would need to say.
"I come to this Pact seeking peace, justice, and hope," Penny said. "And a promise not to betray one another, by lies or by treachery."
Nilnacrawla translated Kashaunta's next words to her.
"I come to this seeking trust, understanding, respect, and peace," Kashaunta said. "And a promise not to betray one another, by lies or by treachery. I make this Pact before the gods, those who equal them, and those who surpass them. I bind them to an oath of silence regarding this event, until I directly instruct them otherwise, in a state of a sound mind, body, and soul. Here, we shall step into a future that needs both of us, casting aside that which is unimportant to focus on the ultimate goals we have. I offer my Blade to Penny Balica, of species Homo Sapiens. In this way, we forge a new future, and walk a new path. I accept the Pact."
"I accept the Pact."
Nova and a hundred Progenitors descended. Nova grew larger, and Kashaunta knelt to him. Penny remained standing. His sharp teeth glittered in the light. He pressed his claws to Penny's chest, and to Kashaunta's chest.
"The Pact of Blades is made before the Progenitors. We agree to your vow of silence. The penalty of breaking it will be dismemberment and disposal into a black hole. Penny Balica, Engineer Kashaunta. To break this Pact without mutual agreement is to call down our collective wrath upon yourselves. You both have agreed, and are of sound mind, body, and soul. The Pact is forged. By sword, by word, by action. I, Nova, Everlasting, Lord of the Progenitors, King of all Sp'rkial'nova, Heir to the Mantle of Power, Heir to Narvravarana, Progenitor, Elder, and Sprilnav, declare the deed done, etched in time, space, and Reality."
They winked out of existence one by one, leaving Penny and Kashaunta alone, to ponder the future. Penny's thoughts turned to the Judgment, and her confidence she could win it began to waver. How much worse was this Judgment going to be than before?
Penny stared at Kashaunta's Soul Blade. With careful fingers, she took it. Kashaunta sat up, satisfied.
"Now we can begin. I shall compile all the news about you I can find, and we shall see how to address the questions the High Judges will ask. Now that you trust me, I cannot betray you."

M 28 USA, 5’ 10”, 220 lbs, non-smoker, social drinker, works in the trades.
I am experiencing an acute pain under the pad of my right index finger, more on the thumb-side of the index finger. There is no visible wound, nor do I remember smashing or otherwise hurting my fingertip prior to the pain arising two days ago. This finger seems a little bit swollen compared to my left index finger, and the skin seems a bit taut, almost as if it’s dehydrated, but I don’t know if that’s just because it’s my dominant hand and therefore gets more use at work.
It only really hurts when I press it against something—like when I lock my phone or adjust my volume, although now that I know it hurts I can always sort of feel it.
Does anyone have an idea of what this might be? Should I just ice it? Or what?
Thanks in advance.

Howdy y'all. I haven't posted for awhile so I thought I'd give another short story a try. This takes place during Chapter 2 after Kris, Susie and Ralsei split temporarily leaving Kris alone. Hope you enjoy.
An Honest Conversation
Kris, Susie and Ralsei came up to a split in the road in Cyber City, Ralsei noting the occasion by walking up in front of the group and looking towards Kris and Susie as they wondered what he had to say.
"Seems we've come to a split in the road. We should split up--Kris, who do you want to go with?" Ralsei looked to the human, slightly annoying Susie.
"Why does Kris get to pick all the time?!" Susie walked up towards Ralsei, grabbing him by the shirt. "You're coming with me."
With that, a blank faced Kris was left behind as Susie took off down the northern alley leaving the human behind to fend for himself.
"SUSIE!!" Ralsei shouted.
"WHAT?!"Susie responded.
"you can put me down." The goat Darkner whispered in slight annoyance.
"...oh." Susie gently stopped running, putting the hairy goat Darkner down. "Sorry."
"Why'd you leave Kris behind like that?" Ralsei asked, wiping off his green robes.
"He'll be fine." Susie sighed. "Sides...I was kinda nervous he'd choose me."
"Why?" Ralsei inquired.
"We just became friends yesterday, ya doofus." Susie explained, sitting down against the alley wall. "I'm not ready for that conversation...yet."
"That conversation?" Ralsei raised an eyelid.
"What, are you a million questions Ralsei today?"
"I'm sorry, I'm kinda new to this whole friends thing myself." Ralsei looked down.
Susie sighed, remembering that very fact herself.
"Yeah, kinda hard just having a Ralsei statue as company I suppose." Susie mused, wiping her snout. "The thing is...me and Kris have always been on the opposite end of the spectrum. Kris...he's had security his whole life. Me, I've had shitty parents and no guarantee of a good meal or warm bed. It sucks. I treated him like dirt for the longest time Ralsei. One time, I came pretty damn close to really hurting him. If I didn't stop myself right then I would've done it. I was mad at him...he was so socially awkward, never talked to anyone, kept to himself. Despite everything I did, Kris risked his life for mine. For the first time in my life, I was scared to lose someone. I saw the King holding Kris in his disgusting hands, using the very same words I muttered earlier..."QUIET PEOPLE PISS ME OFF" he uttered his tongue out. It hit me what I had to do."
"Susie, I think it's clear to me that Kris would listen and not judge you given his actions." Ralsei sat down, playing with his fur.
"You think?" Susie asked. "I hardly know the kid. All I know for sure is that he has the greatest Mom ever and that his hair smells annoyingly of apples. You don't know what willpower it took for me NOT to take a bite outta that kid's head."
"I'm sure he'd get you an apple if you asked." Ralsei snickered at the thought.
"His Mom makes good pies...I'll have to pester Kris to have his Mom make us some of her cinnamon-butterscotch pies she's known for." Susie drooled at the thought. "You should come to the Light World sometime, Ralsei. You'd enjoy it."
"I'll...keep that in mind." Ralsei looked away, dodging the question as nimbly as he could.
"I mean it! We three and Lancer would be invincible!" Susie grinned, just thinking of it. "You could be Ms. Alphy's teacher's pet and Lancer could dig all the holes in town he wanted. There's enough pot holes already as it is...a few more wouldn't hurt I suppose."
"I'm sure it would be wonderful, Susie." Ralsei acknowledged.
"Well, just think about it." Susie let end it there, seeing the troubled look on Ralsei's face. There was something he obviously wasn't telling her but it could wait. She didn't want to ruin this. "Look, the real reason I dragged you into this path was--I want to ask you about Kris."
"Kris? What about?" Ralsei asked.
"Don't tell Kris I said any of what I'm about to tell you. And I mean NONE of it Ralsei." Susie narrowed her eyes.
"My lips are zipped." Ralsei meekly responded.
"Good." Susie sighed. "After we left the Dark World yesterday, I felt things I hadn't felt ever...I wasn't sure what happened was real. All I knew was that I felt them and that I didn't want to lose them...most of all, I didn't want to lose Kris. Kris...the kid I hated for my all time in Hometown I now couldn't stand to be without. I thought of em' the whole night. I didn't get any sleep Ralsei and trust me, that bed you presented earlier was VERY tempting...you bastard."
"S-Sorry."
"It's ok...I'm just venting here. Anyway...I guess what I'm saying is that I don't know how I should go about this whole thing."
"When did you plan to have...the conversation?"
"Sometime in the Dark World, when it was just me and Kris."
"Why don't you talk to him when you guys are done with this adventure? You could walk him home." Ralsei suggested.
"Say Kris, why don't I walk ya home and we can talk serious junk...yeah Rals, that'll go down real well."
"R-Rals?"
"What, no one ever called you a nickname?" Susie raised an eyebrow.
"Well, insults like toothpaste boy not withstanding...Rals isn't bad." Ralsei blushed.
"Geez, I'm gonna have to teach you a LOT." Susie moaned, slapping the side of her snout. "Don't expect these lessons to be free either, toothpaste boy. You're gonna have to make a lot of cakes."
"S-Sure." Ralsei sweat. "I mean it though...don't make a big deal, just...offer to walk him home and just bring it up when you two are nice and relaxed."
"Like, when we're sitting down or something? Like now?"
"Yeah! We're talking, having a serious conversation aren't we?" Ralsei nodded in glee.
"No, we're talking about rainbows." Susie rolled her eyes.
"W-We are?" Ralsei second guessed himself.
"NO...that was SARCASM." Susie sighed once again. "I swear with this guy..."
"Sarcasm?"
"I swear I'm gonna call you Million Questions Ralsei forever if you don't stop." Susie crossed her arms. "It's when you want to express annoyance but do it indirectly."
"Huh. I'll have to try that..."
"Can we focus?" Susie snapped.
"O-Oh, sorry--so Kris, what do you want to ask him?"
"I try asking him if we'd still be friends if I opened that supply closet door and you guys weren't there but I chickened out at the last second. I didn't want to think about the possibility of that not being a thing."
Ralsei went silent, looking at Susie as she looked to the ground thinking of Kris in that moment.
"Susie, I didn't realize that Kris meant that much to you." Ralsei rubbed the back of his head. "Am I the one you should really be asking for advice on this? I mean, after all I'm...just learning how to be a friend. And you've done all the teaching thus far."
"Kris and I just became friends. The thought of losing that just scares me...scares me to my very core. The little I did sleep I had a nightmare. It was me and him in front of that bunker door in the woods. He was shaking the whole time, scared of something--I asked him what was wrong. He wouldn't tell me, backing away each time I walked towards the door. Suddenly, the door opened and a look of terror that I've never seen on him erupted on Kris' face. He looked at me, reached out to me but was sucked in and I had to watch as the doors closed on him. I couldn't save him, Ralsei! Kris almost died trying to save me yesterday Ralsei...I don't want to lose him." Susie began to break down. "All this time, I've treated that kid LIKE SHIT and despite everything, he still stuck his neck out for me. What do you say to that!? What do you do with that?! Jesus..."
Susie stood up, sniffling and wanting to begin walking again.
"H-Hey...Susie."Ralsei got up, gently putting a hand on Susie's arm, Susie growing stiff at the contact, Ralsei quickly pulling his hand away.
"Y-Yeah?" Susie turned around, trying to regain her composure.
"My offer still stands. I could teach you some healing spells, if you're up for it. Of course, the lessons would be payment for your advice from earlier." Ralsei offered. "This could help you protect Kris."
"They're hiding something Ralsei, I know it." Susie said. "It troubles Kris, even before we came to the Dark World. If there's something Kris knows and is trying to solve, I want to be prepared for the worst case scenario. I want to protect him."
"Then we'll start with the basics and on the way, refine your approach to conversation starters, all right?" Ralsei smirked.
"R-Rals?"
"Yes, Susie?"
"You're not half bad." Susie smirked, putting an arm around him.
"T-Thanks." Ralsei blushed. "I don't suppose that would translate to hugging..."
"DO NOT PUSH YOUR LUCK."

I had an infected Bartholian cyst and it’s now almost gone yay but my Lymph node on my thigh on the same side is swollen, was wondering if this happens to anyone else? I have a doctors appointment in the next week just incase but I’m really anxious about it because my dog was just diagnosed with lymph node cancer haha :(

Hello! I am a 28 year old male. I just spent 6 days admitted to the hospital with concerns about a cardiac event because I was having facial parasthesia (tingling, numbness), the same sensation in my left arm and to a less frequent extent, my right arm. I also experience lower jaw and tooth pain, but I can’t tell if this is a symptom or if it is secondary to the swollen tonsils and adenoids.
For context, my wife and son recently got sick. My wife was very sick. Enough so that she sometimes cried about how much her throat hurt and even got a couple of chest x-rays for pneumonia. She was tested for every common illness because she had an insanely painful sore throat, a VERY bad cough, a whisper quiet lost voice and her tonsils were huge. The only result that showed was that she had a past EBV infection at some point.
I also got sick, of course. However, things went differently for me. I got sick and developed a bad sorrow throat and that was about it. This continues to this day, which is 12 days later. It’s still quite bad. My tonsils are also huge, but not as big as they were. I have tonsil secretions but I had more before.
A few days into my sore throat, my left face began to tingle. It was… weird. No pain, nothing else really. Just tingle. Later on in the day, my lip went numb. I went to the ER thinking that I was stroking out or something but the CT was fine and they sent me home.
The very next day, my left arm started to tingle and hurt and my arm starting from under my armpit medially(if supinated) running down my upper arm but not below my elbow started to ache. My shoulder had sensations of cold as well. The tinglng sensation continues and it runs down to my hand where I feel pain that that travels around but is mainly in my palm, thumb and fourth/fifth finger. This also occurs in my right arm. In fact, it’s happening right now. Both sides of my face are tingling as well.
To be clear, Yale’s cardiology team did a very extensive workup including s PET/CT nuclear stress test, echocardiogram, several EKG’s, maybe a dozen troponins a chest X-ray. No cardiac pathology was revealed. The only thing that was somewhat weird is that my symptoms were alleviated several times by nitroglycerin, but this may very well be psychosomatic due to my extreme anxiety over it being cardiac in nature and causing panjc attacks that the nitroglycerin calmed by lowering my BP and distracting me with low BP symptoms, honestly. I am a very anxious individual and I was very laser focused on it being cardiac pain because of the location. So much so that I did not even think of the possibility of my illness being related during my hospitalization. They did test me for strep and COVID and it was negative but given the fact that my wife was negative for EBV, they did not think it necessary.
I am wondering if perhaps this mystery infection could have triggered GBS? I do see a neurologist but my closest available appointment is three months from now.
So, what do you fine people think? Do these symptoms sound like potential GBS? If so, would gabapentin help? How can I go about making this easier for myself? I do have an RX for that. Thanks for reading.

I [18f] and my mom [46f] used to get along really well when I was younger. I never had that “I hate my parents” phase like most of my friends did and I really enjoyed going shopping and going on little weekend trips with my mom. When I was 13 we discovered I had a gluten and dairy allergy so my mom worked really hard to help me find foods and really supported my diet no matter what. After my 16th birthday my mom quit buying me food and on my birthday made a normal cake saying “nobody is going to want to eat a gluten and dairy free cake” when all the years prior she had no problem making me birthday cakes the fit my allergy needs. So I never got a cake and my brother ended up eating all the birthday cake. Then I got my first job where I worked 5 days a week and only ate once a day on the days I worked because it was the only place I could get food. One day I went to my grandmas house and asked if she had any of my food (my grandma almost always accommodated for my allergies) she said she had one of my frozen pizzas in the freezer, we went out together and that’s when I told her my mom had quit buying me food. A whole fight broke out between the two and my mom started crying while my brother comforted her and my dad called me a spoiled brat. After that my mom bought me food on and off for 3 months until I started my senior year of When I was midway through high school I learned that my allergies had gone away from accidentally eating cheese that was on a burger. My mom seemed really annoyed and I started eating normal food. Recently me and my bf [19m] have been talking about moving in together. All of my friends and coworkers are super supportive and excited for me, but my parents just act like they want me out of the house. My older brother (we’ll call him Steve) has a swollen lymph node on his neck and has had to go to the doctor several times for last month and a half. At first I was really concerned about it, but after the doctors ruled out that It was nothing serious like cancer I realized he was ok. Well, Steve had gotten a temporary disability from his work, so that he’ll still get payed to just sit in his room all day. Meanwhile my parents fuss over him daily, my mom can’t have a conversation with me without him being the main subject and Steve has literally gotten away with throwing things at me and cussing at me while my mom doesn’t do anything. I tried bringing it up to my mom and she got mad at me saying that Steve is hurt and he could be unalived by his swollen lymph node and saying how they talk about me just not in front of me. I pretty much dropped it after that but my mom only continued talking about him more. A few weeks ago I had to report someone to the police for harassment and because she was causing a lot of stress in my life, when I told my mom she just shrugged it off acting like it was a normal thing to do every day. Steve is home everyday and my mom acts like she never sees him. Whenever he comes downstairs it’s always “hey Steve! How are you! What have you been up to?” Whereas I can be gone every day for 2 weeks and my parents won’t even bat an eye. Yesterday my boyfriend’s ex girlfriend came into my work and just watched me for an hour. I tried my best to ignore her and finished up my shift. When my mom got home from work I told her and she just brushed it off like it was nothing, but turned around and fusses over if my brother had eaten or not. Side note: my boyfriend lives almost an hour away so his ex had to drive a good 40 minutes just to get to my work I’ve been upstairs almost all day today, but I’m just so frustrated and I needed to get this off my chest, does anyone have any advice?

Official CT results: “New heterogeneous enhancing foci with central hypodensities scattered peripherally through the liver for example at the right hepatic dome lesion measures 3.8 x 3.6cm, these are suspicious for new hepatic lesions”
Still waiting on MRI results but I am not thinking it’s good.
Summary of the situation: dad had lung cancer, full removal of lung. (NSCLC) 3A, spread to local lymph nodes which were also removed.
Precautionary chemo but there was no detectable cancer before he started.
After chemo he was given his scans and declared cancer free.
He started to bounce back after chemo, extremely well. His hemoglobin (which was 6-7 before they caught the cancer and has been around 7 during all of it) is back up to 10.
1mo after he started his adjuvent care / immunotherapy, which included Keytruda. Has scans again before- all are clear.
2-3 weeks after first treatment he gets violently ill, weak, fatigued.
When he goes back for second treatment they decide to run bloodwork and CT instead of treatment.
We get a call from the doctor and the liver enzymes are high, and the CT came back with an abnormality on the liver. He said he doesn’t think it’s serious and there’s “no defined edges,” so it’s likely not a lesion. And he ordered an immediate MRI.
Everything else was mostly normal, hemoglobin actually up at 11. Only other abnormality was a slightly swollen spleen, but they informed us that that is normal after chemo.
HOWEVER, on the CT report on his charts it reads: “New heterogeneous enhancing foci with central hypodensities scattered peripherally through the liver for example at the right hepatic dome lesion measures 3.8 x 3.6cm, these are suspicious for new hepatic lesions”
So basically the report contradicts what he said to us, and we feel as if he was trying to keep us calm until the MRI (they also didn’t post the CT report for a few days when it’s usually as soon as they have results- but this may be nothing). It says there is a lesions and multiple other possible lesions.
We’re are not telling my dad what the official report says, as we are distraught and don’t want to worry him. This sounds much worse and we are praying for the best, but having terrible anxiety.
He’s all of a sudden so sick again lately. I can’t fathom this. I can’t fathom this cancer came back this aggressive this fast out of the blue. I can’t. He was clear less than 3 weeks ago. All his other tests are IMPROVING.
He received his MRI yesterday and we are awaiting his results still. They said we’d likely hear back on Thursday… waiting is excruciating.
Please, someone tell us it’s going to be ok.

Hi guys, I’m a 23M that has been diagnosed with a probable virus after seemingly having tonsillitis. I’ve tested negative to everything - strep, STI’s, mono, influenza, covid etc. anything that can be swabbed or blood tested. All 4 doctors have no clue. I’ve been prescribed erythromycin (taking it for acne beforehand so doubled dose) for 6 days when there was white puss/infection coming from only right tonsil, then penicillin with erythromycin for 10 days after puss went away but still sore to swallow and swollen. Weird thing is halfway through the penicillin it flared up again, having around 5 tiny white dots appear predominantly on the inflamed right tonsil for a couple days. This was accompanied with swelling that made the tonsil protrude towards the uvula too. Whilst it’s settling down again after 4 days of dots, I still have swelling 3 weeks later. My main concern is the anatomy of my right tonsil because where the puss was coming from in the slit is healing so slowly and it’s like my tonsil has a little dangly thing/uvula of it’s own now lol. Could it be a stubborn tonsil stone or something causing the protrusion? Never had my tonsil look like this. I’ve poked around with a q-tip and it actually tucked in the dangly thing a little, with no clear stones or anything behind it or the tonsil flaps.
Current symptoms are barely any throat pain when swallowing, swelling and inflammation of right tonsil and moderate lymph nodes in neck, chronic fatigue, no fever, sporadic body aches and pains.
I’m lost because I’ve never been sick for this long for a respiratory issue and feel something’s not right.
Images: https://ibb.co/gVm74Zv https://ibb.co/C90CMd0

Blachowicz here.
Kept yah’ waiting, huh? Heh, sorry about that one, but I can explain. As we all know… we lost a few good men the last few months.
That’s the brutal part of a hybrid war like ours: We’re fighting a foe unconventional, with half our arsenal tied down because those who grant us authorization are either in disbelief of the true facts, or scared… or already assimilated. That being said our momentum recently was a change not seen in years, and because of that… despite the losses we have garnered, we were close through a breakthrough. One last night Krol pulls myself and other two must trusted squad leads into the back of our COP. There is one of our equipment cages, surrounded by m-bitter radios, tripods, and several hundred thousand dollars of equipment he brought us around a simple worn table. Before us he laid a map of eastern poland… red markings indicating cells that seemed to dot the countryside like a pestilence, or used to… as deep gashes of advance from raids had trisected their lines, even if ones did pop up in the interior.
It was a back and forth; an outside virus infecting Polska at it’s heart, and we were the antibodies sent to drive them out. To which… Major Krol points to one of the largest symbol on the map: a dark red diamond, the NATO symbol for an enemy unit, deep inside of an untouched wooded area, adjacent to a mountain ridge. Several jagged lines indicated entrenchment, with red horizontal lines indicating possible enemy control… or our contested control, for over 20kms surrounding it. Letting us all look, the Major lit himself a cigarette.
“Sir, you sure it’s wise to smoke in here with the dive tanks just behind us” 1st Squad’s lead quipped. “Fuck off” Krol dryly said.
“Alright… this is it… this is the one we’ve been searching for for years, this is the nucleus my predecessor commander died trying to find” he says, pointing to it. Not far from Zamosc, it was almost touching the border with Belarus, the contested area indicating the Strigoi did operate over it… indicating one of the largest spill through points. “-It’s an old soviet bunker, made during their 1960s initiative it was designed to hold the munitions and manpower of several units in the event of a NATO first strike” Krol explained. “It’s gotta be massive then…” I said gazing at the map; “Didn’t the army demolish all of the old soviet hulks near Belarus to prevent any infiltrations?” 3rd Squad’s lead asked. “National Police took the effort over… and by extension, the Strigoi. It was halfway demo’ed before they burrowed into it and have been using it as a bridgehead ever since. This is it…” Krol said. He looked around at all of us, a sense of certainty I had never seen before as he blew smoke from his nostrils; “We’ve been fucking around in the dark for so long, it’s hard to believe we’ve made any progress, but this is it. With this gone, this will set them back over a decade and the momentum will finally shift into our favor… into Poland’s… -Europe’s”.
I swear there was almost a flash of joy, of pride in his eyes and a phantom of a smirk before reality set back in “That being said… we can’t leave this to chance, especially not something as important as this. We’re going to have to go there ourselves… clear through every inch of that place, and tear it all down, piece by piece. I will be straight with you all… when we go, there will be some of us that aren’t coming back. -but we are going… a whole generation is counting on us, and unborn billions rely on us to succeed”. We all nodded, a silent agreement washing over us as we took this upon ourselves. Echo-1 spoke up: “So… They’re authorizing a raid? How big?”. “We’re rolling in as a hard target, armor, explosives, and air support” Krol answered, taking a drag off his cigarette. “Aviation? How the hell did we get that approved, we’ve gotten attempts shot down four times due to those leeches” I said in disbelief. “There’s too much evidence here pointing to the human trafficking tied to their actions… We’ve finally got too much weight pinning them down, to keep the hammer from slamming into their necks” Krol chuckled. He looked around “Any questions?”. “When?” Echo-3 asked. “Three hours. We’re hitting them in the dead of night, only time we could get the birds authorized. Get your boys ready. We’re rolling out” Krol said, dying the cigarette bud out on the table. I can’t begin to tell you the euphoria we felt leaving that cage, as our men started arriving, they did so a lot quicker, and with their heads a lot higher than they had in weeks. As Second Squad’s lead we were going to be one of the main arms of attack into the bunker, thus I made sure we had a breacher loaded with enough thermite, charges, and tools to cut through anything. Our shield bearer we ready to go, as was our assaulters, grenadiers, and machine gunner. I double checked each and everyone of their weapons; ensuring the feeder paws of our squad’s belt fed were intact, making sure every breach charge we had was properly set and packed. There was going to be no mistakes, no slip ups. The margin of error needed to be the smallest it had ever been for us tonight if we were going to make the gore spilt worth it.
Finally… there on the outside of the building, the bright LED lights kept the darkness of the ensuing night at bay as the roar of our MRAPs could be heard. It was said once that war is 99% peace, and 1% chaos, they were right. The slow periods where the blood slowed and the doubt creeped in was the worst… yet we all kept it at bay. We needed to, there was going to be no backing down tonight. All three squads were up, all of us ready to go… we circled up… short stares and shaky nods telling us one things: We were in this together, till the end… the finish line so many before us had been searching for, we were being granted tonight.
A single set of footsteps could be heard as we turned, Major Krol stepping into the center. He took the last drag of a cigarette, throwing it down to the ground and stamping it out onto the damp concrete. He looked around… his chin strap blowing in the weak air as he met everyone of our gazes… then mine… then looked around. “I want you to remember every detail of tonight, as you have every other night… when you are situationally aware, scanning for the enemy, liberating the subjugated, I want you to remember the sting of anxiety, the shake of adrenaline, the chill of the bunker, the heat of your weapon as it cuts them down… because tonight we are going to write every fine detail of our victory, their defeat, in history…” Krol’s words echoed deep into our souls. He paused for a moment, staring around he looked down… a small pause before he said “When you are ruthless in combat, remember to be patient, and reserved in victory. This conflict is for our existence… a lot of innocents have bled due to the mistakes of those who failed to listen, a lot of our brothers are now laid under because we had to bridge the gap of uncertainty with their lives. We remember them now… but in an hour? We forget them… when we raise our barrels, when we cut into those foes, and we liberate Polska!! This does not end tonight, but history puts everything in it’s place, and patience is the companion of the victor… All of our hard work will be cemented, no matter the obstacles we face in that darkness… no matter the demons, the blood, no matter what incomprehensible horrors, we will make them comprehend that to invade our land, to bleed our people, the justice will be paid in full… Load up. It’s time*”*.
The purpose in our steps was heavy as we climbed the back ramps of the MRAPS; Four of the heavily armored vehicles, one for each squad with an additional for attached personnel including our JTAC, the term means Joint Terminal Attack Controllers. With air support requisitioned to us for this operations, there needs to be a definite liaison on the ground who can directly communicate to the birds, and coordinate their fire and progress. I’d worked with many of them in the past, resourceful guys, quick thinking though I guess that comes with the position they hold of needing to quickly figure out what bombs to drop, on which target, at what precise points, whilst taking contact. He loaded in the lead vehicle with Major Krol… and soon, our convoy kicked off.
The drive was several hours as myself and my squad sat in the back of that forty ton goliath, the rumbling of the engine keeping us awake as the crap heater fought to keep the cold from the outside frost from setting in. I looked around to each of them, some were catching some sleep because even with the circumstances… better to get all the energy you can, than to stay awake for nothing. Others were checking their weapons… My gunner locked eyes with me, the same one from the village extraction… many of these men I had trained with for a while now, fought with for months.
We may have met on unconventional circumstances but those in JW Grom thrive on austere chance and create opportunity from scratch. I was pulled from my thought by the sound of a transmission, my peltors were set up for dual comms so I could both receive information from the Major and other leads, whilst communicating with my team.
Krol himself sent out: [“Approximately 10 minutes from enemy AO…”]. As the rest of the squads acknowledged, I quickly sent out [“Echo-2 Copies”], before kicking the boots of any of them sleeping: “Look alive, we’re here”. Through the exterior net armor of the MRAPS, and the bars protecting the small reinforced windows, we could barely see jack shit. I reached up, turning off the overhead light as we all looked through our nods to scan the outside. A dark wall of dense trees was shown before us, making it difficult to see… in addition to night vision capabilities we had also requisitioned ourselves some thermals… when mounted onto rifles they were bulky, made it a pain to aim down quickly, but considering the supernatural capabilities of spotting our foes we needed every advantage necessary.
I flipped out one of my tubes… scanning the outside with my scope. I looked over to one of my assaulters who had been assigned to man the turret of the MRAP, seated near the view screen as he controlled the 50. Cal. Each of the vehicle turrets had been assigned a direction to cover… we took the 9 o’clock, the left flank. “See anything?” I asked. He shook his head; “Negative… wait… I’ve got two cold signatures, front left heading to our rear”.
I quickly scanned the far tree line, at approximately 60 meters off our left were two cold signatures… followed by a third heading to our front… then another. They were surrounding us, moving at speeds so fast I could barely keep my reticle on them. Is this what the National Police saw? What they faced at that lodge without the benefit of a foot of heavy armor protecting them on all sides. Then… suddenly. Something slammed into the side of our MRAP so hard, it caused it to shake. From over the leader comms, Echo-3 quickly shouted [“Contact right!! 4 hostiles!!”].
One of the Strigoi… so bold, had charged and slammed into the side of our MRAP. I quickly looked to see the figure, a dark blue mass of cold energy through my thermal, back away without so much as a stagger… as they tried to flee into the woods, the white hot justice of Echo-3’s gun fired at them, cutting them down. “Blachowicz I’ve got a few breaking for our vic” my man on the turret called out, I spun around, spotting out the window.
Just then, Major Krol announced [“weapons free, watch and shoot for targets of opportunity…”]. I turned to him… “take those fuckers out-”. Without hesitation my vic’s turret began to quickly target them, and through the darkness I saw a stream of outgoing fire bisect one of them, the ISR of the black blood freaking out the optic so badly it didn’t know what temperature to register it as… but it did register it. As another was cut down, one broke through the tree line and latched onto the side of our MRAP. The thing tore at one of the outer net armor panels, usually made to stop RPGs. It grabbed at the bars near the windows, tearing one off… I lowered my rifle as we locked eyes through the reinforced window.
The thing… the Strigoi looked at me, skin cracked as putrefied muscle fibers seemed to leak through dead flesh. It’s teeth were corroded and worn down to sharp fragments, alongside newly mutated fangs that messily protrude from the jaws. Even through the thick walls of the MRAP I could hear it’s roar, as it then tried to punch it’s way through… it cracked the outer coating of the vehicle… but it wasn’t getting anywhere near. My machine gunner, seated next to me, seemed to chuckle at the sight, quippily saying “Yeah… fuck you too”. It’s then our vehicle lurched upwards, as we began to climb the small incline of the bunker. I knew the layout, mapped it in our head, the main entrance was built into the rocky side of an old cliff meaning we could easily set up a defensive perimeter around it, a horseshoe. Krol’s vehicle was first, taking to the right as Echo-3’s MRAP followed. My vehicle, third, left the incline and took a left and… that’s where things got complicated.
We’re still trying to work out what happened but… from what Joakim says his drone captured. Right when the MRAP turned, several of the monsters quickly slammed into the side of the vehicle, as another more bulkier one, pushed at it’s undercarriage. The result.. Was the 40 ton armored vehicle tipped over. It wasn’t uncommon, hell in some cases a well placed IED, a good shot with a recoilless rifle, have been known to tip over Oshkoshs and Maxpros all the time. But this beast? Needless to say we barely had a second to comprehend it as it leaned to the left; “Grab on to something-” is all I had time to shout. A mess of gear and men spilled onto one side of the vehicle as it slammed into the old gravel and dirt.
Several of my assaulters, my grenadier planted right ontop of myself and the others as we came to a stop. Someone’s knee slammed directly into the side of my skull, causing me to dazily bob in and out of consciousness as my face was smushed against the glass of one of the windows.
Through my peltors, the other squads were erratic;
[“Echo-2’s vehicle is down!!”].
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2… Echo-3 to Echo-2…”].
Krol’s voice came through the comms;
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-2… Fuc-... Echo-1 secure Echo 2’s flank, Echo-3”].
[“Echo-3 to other units, they’re spilling through, I’ve got several enemy combatants converging on Echo-2’s vehicle”].
I pushed the legs of my grenadier off my head as I fought to my hands and knees, unfucking my nods as I looked around… “Fuck it… we’re going lights on, shield your eyes” I muttered as I reached for the overhead lights and flipped them on. The bright LEDs bathed the inside of the vehicle as we all gained our bearings, a mess of multicam, gear, and weapons as we quickly pushed each other off. My gunner caught as he fought to realign his promask, from what I gathered one of the assaulters had landed directly into his gun, pushing it directly into his jugular, as pulled back at the rubber and coughed, freeing up his esophagus. We didn’t have time to think however… the sound of bending metal caught our attention… as the back ramp door of the MRAP was ripped clean off. I could barely believe it but as the white light of the MRAP’s interior poured to the outside, a hulking mass leaned in, the dead flesh on it’s face nearly fallen off as the hideous Strigoi leaned inside.
Without hesitation I aimed took aim, yelling “Keep to the deck!!” to any of those inbetween myself and the invader as I opened fire. A burst of full auto fire tore through it’s collar and neck, my men quickly clung to either sides of the fallen MRAP as a few more fired out. As the thing backed up, a blast of .50 cal fire quickly tore it to shreds, along with several others as I realized they were fuckin swarming over the outside of our vehicle. Echo-3’s vehicle continued to carefully fire on the Strigoi on the outside, the sounds of .50 cal ricocheting off the outside of our armor was enough to make the pucker factor set in.
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2”].
[“This is Echo-2, we’re green on ammo, equipment, men”].
[“Roger, we’re shifting fire, exit the vehicle”].
“Hurry up let’s go!!” I barked to my men, leading the way as I staggered out. I turned on my peq, taking aim at silhouettes in the brush as I began to fire. The sounds of machine guns lighting up the brush, as a sea of growls, howls, and incomprehensible roars fired back at us was the ambient noise of the night. My men quickly exited, my gunner being the last as he and I pulled back to the rest of the defensive perimeter. I set in my men to take up the frontal security, as 3rd squad took the right flank, 1st squad to the left. Major Krol and the JTAC were bickering with each other; “How far out are the birds”. “They’re entering airspace now…” Joakim said, already scanning his smart book.
I asked “What’ve we got?”. He then flipped through… to the NATO combined arms segment, quippily saying; “Apaches…”. This caused me to pause as Echo-3 turned their head whilst directing their squad’s fire “The hell… where did we get apaches from?”. “The Americans… they volunteered” Krol said dismissively as he took aim at the darkness, firing off a controlled trio. “Volunteered? They’re aware of what’s going on?” I asked.
Krol seemed to stop, glancing back at me before returning his focus “There’s a lot more going on than you realize, Blachowicz… Prep the breach, you and 1st are going on”.
I quickly pulled my breacher off the line, securing some thermite as the reinforced bunker door wasn’t going to go as easily as a conventional door breach would. 1st Squad pulled back, stacking up and preparing themselves to be the first in. All the while… Joakim gave his firing solution; “Alpha Hotel Two Five Nine, This is Bravo-4…… Type 2….”.
I snapped to my right, watching as a Strigoi managed to dark across the clear gravel field, only to be cut down by my gunner, the peq’s laser marking the burst as it tore through the beasts’ hips, as it hit the ground and still continued to claw, another GROM operator took aim and fired into it’s skull. Joakim popped up to his feet…. “Marking laser, high power…”. He then pulled out a target marking laser… if you’ve watched night operations, you’ve probably seen them.
The green laser than as it says on the label, marks targets. The pattern of which can vary… if it’s a point target, it’ll usually lasso an area, or remain on target until the target is removed with extreme prejudice. If its close air support, then it’ll be a line of the general area… and Joakim damn near marked the entire perimeter around us. He quickly pocketed the tool, turning back to Krol; “Don’t go past 20 meters unless you want to be liquidated”.
With that… 2nd and 1st stacked up at the door as 3rd squad took up the perimeter security. As Major Krol went over to Echo-1… I saw them. A single blinking IR strobe from the beasts as they moved on the far off horizon, converging from several angles… and fired. The sound of the Apache’s main gun, the M230, truly sounds like the hammer of god… the 30mm cannon shot through the dark sky, lighting it up as we saw three incoming streams tear up the woods. Only then as the sound broke did we start to hear their rotors as they broke and began to circle, firing again… then… Joakim dipped his head and looked to Krol; [“Foxtrot Mike, hang onto your teeth…”]. One of the Apaches fired off a AGM-114… a Hellfire. I barely saw it out of the corner of my eye as the Apache from our right flank fired off at a target approximately 200 meters off. A fireball lit up the forest as the horrendous roar echoed throughout… then went silent.
Echo-3 scanned the horizon carefully;
[“Echo-3 to Echo-Lead, enemy contact is starting to die down”].
[“Maintain perimeter, Close Air is to maintain fire mission until we are boots up, Break…”].
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-1, condition white has been met. Proceeds”]. I saw Echo-1 and his men quickly stack up close to the wall and gesture to me; Breaching. I quickly pulled my stack back against the wall as his and mine breacher quickly hit their actuators. Now under normal circumstances, it doesn’t take much for thermite to melt the locks off of a metal surface, in fact it’s a more precise took as alternative means get real medieval like saws, pry bars… we weren’t in the mood for precision, we need to breach their little lair, and drag them out. The sound of several pounds of hellfire burning through the metal could be heard around the corner as a sea of white and red sparks flew out… after several seconds, two of our men tossed a fragmentation grenade and a nine-bang through the opening… a series of concussive blasts and a large explosion rang out.
Echo-1 and his men maneuvered. 1st Squad quickly converged as we followed them in.
Stepping through the black wall of smoke, the dark abyss of the interior was illuminated in a white light as entered barrels raised. Shots rang out as several of the beasts near the entrance were cut down, though not immediately, rounds disconnected the shoulder of one of them, leading to their arm hanging limply by a single tendon as they roared… another series of rounds putting them down. What greeted us was a messy concrete hell of rust and debris, fecal matter, trash, and all kinds of obstacles laid in our way, our boots sticking to the floor. I thank every god we had promasks that night. I called my shield bearer up, 2nd squad leapfrogging ahead to take the next corridor as 1st squad checked their weapons.
One of my men mule kicked the metal door ahead, twice, finally the latch gave away as we tossed in a grenade. A horrifying roar was cut off as an M67 shook the walls of the ancient soviet mausoleum, frag and spall kicked off the walls as I moved in right behind my shield man. The cramped russian design meant there was barely enough space for three people, and that’s three normal people, not in 50kgs of kit, moving slowly and maneuvering against creatures of the dark. Still… we moved forward, my shield bearer and I pushing the pace as two stacked of either squad formed on either wall.
As we passed doorways they flowed in… “Door Left!!”, “Door Right!!”. “Move!!”.
Two men entered each side, no gunshots, we moved up, a roar came.
“Door left!!-”. A series of gunshots came out as we continued to push forward.
“Two down!!”. “Confirm them” Krol commanded, as a series of gunshots run out in response. From one of the doorways, a Strigoi emerged… a female… clumps of hair had been ripped from her decaying skull, as her blooded eyes locked on myself and my shieldman. The skin on her hands had been tore down to the point where barely her bones and tendons remain… looking like huge talons as she roared and lunged at us. He fired off his pistol, though the rounds did little to stop her as she pushed against our stack.
“Fuck!!” he muttered, somehow her strength caused him to stagnate, holding up the advance… fuck that. I shoved the muzzle of my MK18 into her ribcage, flipping the weapon to auto as I fired of round after round. The 5.56 salvo disconnecting her spinal column, causing her to fall as I continued to fire, along with a man to our right and left as the stacks reformed as we pushed to the end of the hall. I fell back, dropping the magazine and loading a fresh one, like clockwork a GROM Operator from 1st squad took my place. Krol was beside me as we approached the end of the hall.
[“-Prep an entry”] I radioed to my breacher, a comrade handed him one of the charges from his back panel as he took to the door, quickly securing it. We all moved as far back as we could, look away, exhale. The blast knocked metal and wood in all directions, scrapping against our uniforms and kit as we made our way in and what laid before us was… it used to be the center atrium of one of these bunkers. Soviet’s loved their grandiose designs, the complex was supposed to be a circular room around a central planning table… instead. It had been turned into some sort of church. Runes and old eastern Romuva pagan symbols written in black ink and blood across the walls, old rotten filing cabinets, long receipt terminals. In the center… several of the Strigoi were kneeling before the table where someone had been tied down, flayed, and… shared amongst the group. They rose to their feet, we aimed our barrels…
The ladder amongst turned to us… his skin wasn’t cracked, or flayed, it was smooth… it still looked dead as the body on the table but it seemed more… accustomed to it. I don’t know… evolved? Under the surface however I could see it’s darkened veins pumping whatever cursed blood ran through them as it locked two blood red eyes onto each of us. It’s nose had long since been turn off, exposing boney nostrils to the open air as it seemed to smirk. All across it’s body were the same symbols on the walls, in every cell… markings of death, of rebirth, of assimilation… From behind this seemingly Alpha emerges another figure I had never seemed before… dressed in a white cloak with a deer head.
"So they've followed the trail... they're too late" the Deer headed individual spoke, definitely not from here, a dialect similar to an Americans but... aristocratic? Each word was drawn out, assurance as if they had everything mapped down to our actions. They didn’t sound like they were from Poland or the east.
“Doesn’t matter…” the Alpha growled… and then, it lunged at us. Quickly breaking from their ground it slammed into my shield man knocking both him and myself at the ground as it displayed an intense feat of strength. Around us I could see several of the Strigoi leap at our comrades… though to no fruitful endeavor as I could see one GROM operator cut two down, as another got into a hand to hand confrontation… my breacher, crafty as they were, reached back and slammed one of the prybars of his kit into the skull of the beast.
The Alpha however was not content as it threw away the 90lb shield, sending it flying across the room as it grabbed my comrade by the skull. I quickly kicked up at it, firing my MK18 into it’s body as the rounds pierced it’s gray and rune covered flesh. The thing simply seemed to chuckle… that was until Major Krol blasted away at the side of it’s head, the alpha turned… and it’s smirk turned to a scowl when face to face with the major. A knowing pause almost like they had done this dance before…
The creature lunged, locking up with Major Krol as it swung and slammed railing. Krol didn’t back down however as he pushed against the creature, hiptossing it to the ground even as it tore at his armor and gear. But the beast pulled, both of them rolled and the Major was on his back as the thing reached for his neck. I fought to a kneel, firing into the creature messily with my MK18, trying not to hit my commander… then…
Click. A sound sends a chill up the spine of every warfighter during a firefight.
My gun ran dry. I dropped the magazine, looking to load another, but the thing came up and with one of it’s claws, sliced deep into my cheek, through the pro mask. I could feel my own blood go flying through the air as I landed hard on my back plate, spitting out red iron as I quickly tried to adjust my mask. Through my fogged up, blood covered lense… I saw my shield man raise his pistol, firing into the skull of the thing staggering it with a roar. Krol came from behind, drawing his knife he sunk it deep into the neck of it…. I reached for my rifle, forcing a new magazine in and damn near punching the bold release. ““Sir, down!!” I shouted, Krol rolled away, back to his own rifle as I fired. So did my comrade as he continued to fire his pistol… so did the Major as he fired his rifle. All of us chewing through that apex predator of darkness, that beast… the leader that had been preying on our people for so long. Layer by layer, muscle group by bone… eventually… the alpha landed on whatever was left of his back.
The silence of the fight died down as all of us checked our surroundings, GROM Operators putting controlled pairs in the heads and nerve stems of any Strigoi laying around… I flicked my weapon onto safe, letting it hang as I pulled off my mask. I dared not touch the wound on my face… the pain nearly crippling me if it wasn’t sheer will pushing me through, and adrenaline doing all it could to subdue it. The sound of the apaches continuing to lay hate drew us from our moment of contemplation as the Major went back to work; [“Confiscate any info, burn the rest…”]. He turned back to me as I shoved my damaged M50 mask back into it’s bag, chuckling as he looked at the sight; “You need a medevac, Blachowicz?” he quipped.
I shook my head, barely able to speak as I muttered; “Negative sir…”. The two of us scanned the room as my shield bearer went to collect his defense implement turned 90lb projectile, we scanned the center of the room, checking and confirming bodies, until we got to the last one alive. His white gown was soaked in red crimson and black ooze, as his dear head was mangled from bullet fire and impact from falling on it. I swear… the way his blood poured out of it though made me wonder if it was a mask. I gave it no second thoughts as he looked to Krol; “You… you can’t stop this, they’ve already-”.
The Major was in no mood for communication as his rifle snapped up and fired off three rounds to the body, four the head. The violent yet quick salvo ending the cultists life, I looked down at it, then to him as he remarked; “Have your squad drag him out to the front, burn the rest”. I stood alongside him, looking down as the sight of it’s deer head was both captivating and horrifying… the curiosity in me wanting to look closer at it fighting the primal instinct I had to burn the thing to ash. “-Haven’t seen one of those before…” I muttered, thinking the Major had an answer.
He didn’t. Krol saying “Neither have I…” shortly before he walked away, was what truly shook my soul about that entire night. Victory stood firm in our hearts that night as we stood outside of the bunker. The night sky burning with fire and white phosphorus as we watched the ruin burn from the inside from the other side of the lot. In the distance, the Apaches continued to scan and circle the forests, no longer firing…. Which meant they had driven any or turned to glass any enemy combatants within a four miles, probably both, more than likely the latter. Echo-1 patted me on the shoulder as we stood there, soaking it all in, though Krol looked none to pleased. “In the time it took us to take this one down, they’ll be trying to set up three more cells… that being established…” he said, looking to either of us, then to Echo-3. “-Hell of a thing we did tonight, been waiting for this one for a decade, cleanly, maybe more… but no time to rest on our laurels… we’ll have another task for us as soon as we’re boots down back home” he said, to which his eyes followed mine, the body of whatever cultist that was zipped up in a black body bag beside the wheel of one of the MRAPs. The fire from the bunker casting an orange hue over it’s shiny jet black outside, something didn’t sit right with me… “That wasn’t a Strigoi…” I said to Krol.
“That’s very clear…” the Major said, shoving his mask under his arm and lighting a cigarette. “So… someone’s helping them?” I asked. The meer notion of it shook me to my core, sickened me. This parasite was already badly infecting Europa, Polska… if it was spread like this throughout the world. Krol settled my nerves: “We’ll be ready… It’s not just us anymore”. As he said that, I realized what he meant… my eyes looking to the Apaches as they started to form up, leaving the areas as their thunderous propellers melted into the night’s calm, unnerving ambience.
It’s been a couple of weeks since then, Echo Detachment has been busy. We’ve gained good ground against the enemy and honestly I think in a few years, we might see a much larger change. For now… we must keep going, that being said the Strigoi aren’t the only ones we’ve been combating. Recently we’ve made contact with of some sort of extermination coalition, they’ve known about the Strigoi, and others plaguing the world, the level of corruption and corrosion on society goes deep. Regardless a lot of the units we’ve been working with are apart of NATO, such as this “4th Special Forces Group” of the American Military. I don’t know where the road from here leads, but we’ve gotten momentum on our side, finally. Just remember… these things are out there, in every town, every city, every nation… preying and waiting for you to be alone, vulnerable, so they can take you and replace you.
Watch your back, and stay safe.
For now, Blachowicz signing out. Until next time

26F. About 4 years ago an US revealed a hypoechoic lesion in my R lumbar area measuring slightly greater than 1cm. The doctor i was seeing at the time didnt think any follow up was necessary. I had a CT that showed swollen mesenteric and pericecal lymph nodes about 5 months ago with an incidental note of the lesion. On the note it said "if patient doesnt have known cancer, follow up is recommended based on clinical findings " I was negative for 32 different viral/bacterial infections they checked for. I'm having my follow up scans this Friday due to increased pain in my R lumbahip as well as numbness in the same area, to see if the hypoechoic lesion has grown and if the nodes are still swollen. My question is, if the lymph nodes are still enlarged what would be the likely next course of action? My Dr mentioned surgery for the lesion if it has grown, I assume they would biopsy it at that point? Could these things be related? Hx: Anemia, complex ovarian cyst, prior cholecystectomy in 2017, chronic fatigue