Plzma burst hacked
Engines of Arachnea: A Science Fantasy Epic (Chapter 17: what Lies Beneath Flesh)
2024.05.15 00:19 hoggersbridge Engines of Arachnea: A Science Fantasy Epic (Chapter 17: what Lies Beneath Flesh)
High above in her hiding spot, Zildiz had heard enough. The Leapers were her kindred’s most hated of adversaries, and she could not allow them to gain even a fraction of the grey behemoth’s awesome might. An apocalyptic vision arose in her mind of titanic Leaper variants towering over the rooftops of Chthonis, setting the Parchment City alight with beams of all-destroying light emanating from their many eyes.
Four against one. Those were slim odds even under the best of circumstances. Still, she had the element of surprise, and ambush predators were often unaccustomed to being preyed upon themselves. But Leapers were notoriously difficult opponents to sneak up on as they literally had eyes on the backs of their heads. But Zildiz was a veteran of countless border skirmishes, and had learned of a small blind spot in their vision. It was above and slightly behind the axis of their posterior lateral median eyes. But many Gallivants who had tried to make their first kill that way did not survive to tell the tale—the flutter of their wings gave them away. She would have to drop straight down on her first target. No hesitation, no second chances.
She saw the alpha Leaper lean down to extract the prey-form’s gilt helix, and saw her opening.
Rene heard a branch snap somewhere above him and felt a gust of wind blow across his neck, bearing with it droplets of moisture that pattered lightly against the visor of his mask. His first thought was that it had started to rain. He glanced up at the monster to find that it had extruded a new mouthpart, some manner of sharp, serrated tongue whose tip oozed a wet and viscous fluid. Rene flinched reflexively, expecting at any moment to feel the point punching through his skull before draining out its contents like a straw. But then the blade twisted sharply, wrenching its way out of the back of the monster’s head and drenching Rene’s mask in a shower of gore, the four-eyed devil letting out a wet gurgle as it slumped over in a twitching heap.
Pawing at his mask with his bound wrists, Rene peered through his smeared vision and saw a figure standing atop the corpse that, if anything, possessed an even less lovely countenance than his erstwhile interlocutor. A bulbous compound eye stared back Rene like a shattered mirror, a thousand miniscule reflections of himself repeating across its scaly lenses.
Rene recognized the creature as one of the harpies from earlier. One of its broad wings was missing. It drew its bloodstained blade across its mandibles, casually licking the weapon clean as an eight-limbed devil leapt at the harpy from behind, letting loose a bloodcurdling scream. But the harpy did not even turn at the sound, merely pointing its other blade arm behind it and letting its attacker impale itself upon it, clean through. With its dying spasms the devil pulled itself up the length of the blade in an effort to reach the harpy, even as its two kin recovered from their surprise and pounced at the harpy from either side. What followed was a blur of movement almost too quick for the human eye to follow as the harpy spun in place, cleaving the monster on the left halfway through its sternum. In the same movement it turned the devil stuck on the end of its blade into the path of the attacker on the right, using it as a living shield. The impact still bowled the harpy over, all four of the combatants rolling on the ground in a ball of threshing limbs and furious struggle.
The din was horrendous. Siezing the golden opportunity which had presented itself, Rene reached once more for the sword of the ancients, stretching his sinews for all they were worth. It was just enough to let him pinch the pommel-button between his middle and forefingers. Raising it up in spite of his trembling, sweat-slick grip, Rene coaxed the hilt into palm of his waiting hand, then pounded the button against his chest, feeling the sword come alive in his hands. As the fight raged on behind him, Rene sliced his legs free. He tucked in his head as he hit the ground, rolling onto his arse and reversing his grip on the sword, swiftly cutting the bonds around his wrists. When he tried to stand, however, he found that his legs were still unresponsive, all the blood within them having flowed up to his torso during his time spent hanging upside down. Pounding the life back into the clammy flesh of his calves with his fist, Rene looked anxiously around and discovered that the battle had since moved elsewhere, leaving two black-furred corpses in its wake. Cries of rage and a frenzied shaking among the bushes allowed him to guess where the other monsters were. He hoisted himself to his feet, picked up the safety kit and staggered away from the sounds of fighting, pins and needles still numbing the soles of his feet.
As he stepped over the dead bodies in his path, Rene was just about to congratulate himself on a smooth escape when his toes snagged on something and he tripped, going down heavily on his side. Rene felt a powerful yank on his ankle and looked to see the previously impaled monster glaring up at him. It wriggled on its belly and pulled him closer with one hand while it held in its spilled guts with the other three. By the ancestors, was it strong! Rene hacked at the hand holding his foot and lopped it off at the forearm, feeling only the slightest tug of resistance as the edge sheared through bone and meat alike. The hand was still clamped shut about his ankle with a death grip as he stood back up.
The fiend’s back arched as it brought its vile hump of flesh to the fore, dozens of sucking orifices on its misshapen surface spreading open wide.
Thwip! Thwip!
Jets of silk flew out of the spinnerets, the monster using its claws to grasp the threads and shuttering them back and forth like the shuttles of a loom. Cords flicked out and ensnared Rene’s sword arm, pinning it to his side while the weaver applied a lightning-fast field dressing on its abdominal wound, closing off both ends with wads of its makeshift bandage. Rene strained mightily against the loops of silk, but they never budged an inch. Meanwhile, the monster raked him with its claws, opening bright lines of agony across his chest and shoulder. Rene bit back a scream and dropped the sword point-first into the soil. It sank quivering up to its hilt, leaving him completely defenseless as the monster jumped and snatched him up in its gangly embrace. Rene fell to one knee as its weight bore him to the earth, reaching out with his free hand to draw the sword out of the ground and cleave through its rows of hairy legs.
Severed limbs went rolling every which way, the black devil tottering. Yet as it fell its outer mouthparts seized Rene by the temples and pinned him in place as it bit right into his face. Venomed fangs skittered across the transparent surface of his mask, scoring it with deep scratches. To his amazement the crystal held strong and did not shatter—once more the materials of the ancients had proven their incredible durability. Rene worked his arm clear and chopped wildly at the monster’s arms, felt its hold on him slacken as they fell away, leaving only spurting stumps. The butchered devil fell on its humped back and began shrieking its head off.
Rene raised his sword to deliver the coup de grace but was interrupted by the sudden reemergence of the other combatants who burst back onto the scene. The harpy was grappling with one of the devils, quickly being overpowered by its brute strength. As the devil sank its fangs into the bulging pair of compound eyes and tore off the top of the harpy’s head, the latter found an opening and slipped both its blades through in tight uppercutting motions, ramming them under the devil’s chin and out the other end. Ripping outwards and across with its arms the harpy tore its enemy’s head apart and sent the soggy chunks scattering into the treetops.
Reeling in obvious pain, it kicked the body aside and took off with a shutter of its wings, attempting an escape. A feral scream split the air as, the last devil leapt up to intercept it, entrails dangling in the place of its missing lower body. Devoid of sanity or self-preservation, it tacked the rising harpy and sent both of them crashing into a stout branch. They fell back to the earth with a bone-crunching thump, followed by a confetti-shower of dead leaves shaken from their stems.
Rene looked back at his enemy and saw the devil stubbornly gathering itself up for another spring. All it had left were a single arm and leg apiece, that and a merciless glitter in its eyes.
“You can’t be serious,” he complained, and put an end to its efforts by splitting its head right down the middle. Rene shook his head in disbelief and went over to polish off the other two, snipping his webbed arm loose as he did. He found the bisected devil crawling on its elbows and mewling with pain as it wriggled towards the unmoving body of the harpy, clearly intending to finish what it had started.
There were eyes on the back of its head, Rene now noticed. Four of them, the same number as on the front. It saw him coming and rolled over, raising its arms to shield itself.
Rene’s boot came stomping down all the same. He felt its head crunching under his heel as he squashed it into a flattened pie and was nauseated. Rene then approached the harpy, eyeing its blade arms warily and giving it a wide berth. He didn’t want to get anywhere near those frightful things, not after what he’d seen. Instead he went over to a fallen log and cut himself an oversized club from one of its boughs. Sticking the sword back into the ground, he hefted the length of wood over the harpy, intending to smash its head in from a distance.
He felt strangely squeamish at prospect of another head going splat. A wave of dizziness came over him and he had to take a moment to collect himself, doubling over and beginning to dry heave. Leaning heavily on the bough like a staff, he examined the harpy and thought that it looked sufficiently dead. Through the gaping holes in its face he saw the gooey interior of its head. Was that its brain poking through the cracks in the armored hide? Blimey, it had a big one. Equal parts revolted and intrigued, Rene reached over with the branch and prodded at it, testing for a reflex.
Nothing. Better to be safe than sorry, though. Rene raised the bough on high and steeled himself to do the deed once and for all.
A piece of the head fell away, and Rene gasped. Abandoning common sense, he threw aside the club and squatted over the body, frantically tearing off the rest of its cranial casing, plunging his fingers into the sticky mess and pulling out clumps of armored flesh until what lay beneath was finally revealed.
Rene clutched at his forehead as if it was about to explode. Backing away with a sense of dawning horror, he repeated over and over to himself: “It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t! That’s not possible! It’s…it’s…”
Beautiful.
That was what Rene had meant to say. But the word felt so utterly absurd given the context that it took all his will to keep from bursting into a fit of deranged laughter. And who could have blamed him?
For beneath the ruined visage of flesh, the creature wore the face of a woman.
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Four against one. Those were slim odds even under the best of circumstances. Still, she had the element of surprise, and ambush predators were often unaccustomed to being preyed upon themselves. But Leapers were notoriously difficult opponents to sneak up on as they literally had eyes on the backs of their heads. But Zildiz was a veteran of countless border skirmishes, and had learned of a small blind spot in their vision. It was above and slightly behind the axis of their posterior lateral median eyes. But many Gallivants who had tried to make their first kill that way did not survive to tell the tale—the flutter of their wings gave them away. She would have to drop straight down on her first target. No hesitation, no second chances.
She saw the alpha Leaper lean down to extract the prey-form’s gilt helix, and saw her opening.
Rene heard a branch snap somewhere above him and felt a gust of wind blow across his neck, bearing with it droplets of moisture that pattered lightly against the visor of his mask. His first thought was that it had started to rain. He glanced up at the monster to find that it had extruded a new mouthpart, some manner of sharp, serrated tongue whose tip oozed a wet and viscous fluid. Rene flinched reflexively, expecting at any moment to feel the point punching through his skull before draining out its contents like a straw. But then the blade twisted sharply, wrenching its way out of the back of the monster’s head and drenching Rene’s mask in a shower of gore, the four-eyed devil letting out a wet gurgle as it slumped over in a twitching heap.
Pawing at his mask with his bound wrists, Rene peered through his smeared vision and saw a figure standing atop the corpse that, if anything, possessed an even less lovely countenance than his erstwhile interlocutor. A bulbous compound eye stared back Rene like a shattered mirror, a thousand miniscule reflections of himself repeating across its scaly lenses.
Rene recognized the creature as one of the harpies from earlier. One of its broad wings was missing. It drew its bloodstained blade across its mandibles, casually licking the weapon clean as an eight-limbed devil leapt at the harpy from behind, letting loose a bloodcurdling scream. But the harpy did not even turn at the sound, merely pointing its other blade arm behind it and letting its attacker impale itself upon it, clean through. With its dying spasms the devil pulled itself up the length of the blade in an effort to reach the harpy, even as its two kin recovered from their surprise and pounced at the harpy from either side. What followed was a blur of movement almost too quick for the human eye to follow as the harpy spun in place, cleaving the monster on the left halfway through its sternum. In the same movement it turned the devil stuck on the end of its blade into the path of the attacker on the right, using it as a living shield. The impact still bowled the harpy over, all four of the combatants rolling on the ground in a ball of threshing limbs and furious struggle.
The din was horrendous. Siezing the golden opportunity which had presented itself, Rene reached once more for the sword of the ancients, stretching his sinews for all they were worth. It was just enough to let him pinch the pommel-button between his middle and forefingers. Raising it up in spite of his trembling, sweat-slick grip, Rene coaxed the hilt into palm of his waiting hand, then pounded the button against his chest, feeling the sword come alive in his hands. As the fight raged on behind him, Rene sliced his legs free. He tucked in his head as he hit the ground, rolling onto his arse and reversing his grip on the sword, swiftly cutting the bonds around his wrists. When he tried to stand, however, he found that his legs were still unresponsive, all the blood within them having flowed up to his torso during his time spent hanging upside down. Pounding the life back into the clammy flesh of his calves with his fist, Rene looked anxiously around and discovered that the battle had since moved elsewhere, leaving two black-furred corpses in its wake. Cries of rage and a frenzied shaking among the bushes allowed him to guess where the other monsters were. He hoisted himself to his feet, picked up the safety kit and staggered away from the sounds of fighting, pins and needles still numbing the soles of his feet.
As he stepped over the dead bodies in his path, Rene was just about to congratulate himself on a smooth escape when his toes snagged on something and he tripped, going down heavily on his side. Rene felt a powerful yank on his ankle and looked to see the previously impaled monster glaring up at him. It wriggled on its belly and pulled him closer with one hand while it held in its spilled guts with the other three. By the ancestors, was it strong! Rene hacked at the hand holding his foot and lopped it off at the forearm, feeling only the slightest tug of resistance as the edge sheared through bone and meat alike. The hand was still clamped shut about his ankle with a death grip as he stood back up.
The fiend’s back arched as it brought its vile hump of flesh to the fore, dozens of sucking orifices on its misshapen surface spreading open wide.
Thwip! Thwip!
Jets of silk flew out of the spinnerets, the monster using its claws to grasp the threads and shuttering them back and forth like the shuttles of a loom. Cords flicked out and ensnared Rene’s sword arm, pinning it to his side while the weaver applied a lightning-fast field dressing on its abdominal wound, closing off both ends with wads of its makeshift bandage. Rene strained mightily against the loops of silk, but they never budged an inch. Meanwhile, the monster raked him with its claws, opening bright lines of agony across his chest and shoulder. Rene bit back a scream and dropped the sword point-first into the soil. It sank quivering up to its hilt, leaving him completely defenseless as the monster jumped and snatched him up in its gangly embrace. Rene fell to one knee as its weight bore him to the earth, reaching out with his free hand to draw the sword out of the ground and cleave through its rows of hairy legs.
Severed limbs went rolling every which way, the black devil tottering. Yet as it fell its outer mouthparts seized Rene by the temples and pinned him in place as it bit right into his face. Venomed fangs skittered across the transparent surface of his mask, scoring it with deep scratches. To his amazement the crystal held strong and did not shatter—once more the materials of the ancients had proven their incredible durability. Rene worked his arm clear and chopped wildly at the monster’s arms, felt its hold on him slacken as they fell away, leaving only spurting stumps. The butchered devil fell on its humped back and began shrieking its head off.
Rene raised his sword to deliver the coup de grace but was interrupted by the sudden reemergence of the other combatants who burst back onto the scene. The harpy was grappling with one of the devils, quickly being overpowered by its brute strength. As the devil sank its fangs into the bulging pair of compound eyes and tore off the top of the harpy’s head, the latter found an opening and slipped both its blades through in tight uppercutting motions, ramming them under the devil’s chin and out the other end. Ripping outwards and across with its arms the harpy tore its enemy’s head apart and sent the soggy chunks scattering into the treetops.
Reeling in obvious pain, it kicked the body aside and took off with a shutter of its wings, attempting an escape. A feral scream split the air as, the last devil leapt up to intercept it, entrails dangling in the place of its missing lower body. Devoid of sanity or self-preservation, it tacked the rising harpy and sent both of them crashing into a stout branch. They fell back to the earth with a bone-crunching thump, followed by a confetti-shower of dead leaves shaken from their stems.
Rene looked back at his enemy and saw the devil stubbornly gathering itself up for another spring. All it had left were a single arm and leg apiece, that and a merciless glitter in its eyes.
“You can’t be serious,” he complained, and put an end to its efforts by splitting its head right down the middle. Rene shook his head in disbelief and went over to polish off the other two, snipping his webbed arm loose as he did. He found the bisected devil crawling on its elbows and mewling with pain as it wriggled towards the unmoving body of the harpy, clearly intending to finish what it had started.
There were eyes on the back of its head, Rene now noticed. Four of them, the same number as on the front. It saw him coming and rolled over, raising its arms to shield itself.
Rene’s boot came stomping down all the same. He felt its head crunching under his heel as he squashed it into a flattened pie and was nauseated. Rene then approached the harpy, eyeing its blade arms warily and giving it a wide berth. He didn’t want to get anywhere near those frightful things, not after what he’d seen. Instead he went over to a fallen log and cut himself an oversized club from one of its boughs. Sticking the sword back into the ground, he hefted the length of wood over the harpy, intending to smash its head in from a distance.
He felt strangely squeamish at prospect of another head going splat. A wave of dizziness came over him and he had to take a moment to collect himself, doubling over and beginning to dry heave. Leaning heavily on the bough like a staff, he examined the harpy and thought that it looked sufficiently dead. Through the gaping holes in its face he saw the gooey interior of its head. Was that its brain poking through the cracks in the armored hide? Blimey, it had a big one. Equal parts revolted and intrigued, Rene reached over with the branch and prodded at it, testing for a reflex.
Nothing. Better to be safe than sorry, though. Rene raised the bough on high and steeled himself to do the deed once and for all.
A piece of the head fell away, and Rene gasped. Abandoning common sense, he threw aside the club and squatted over the body, frantically tearing off the rest of its cranial casing, plunging his fingers into the sticky mess and pulling out clumps of armored flesh until what lay beneath was finally revealed.
Rene clutched at his forehead as if it was about to explode. Backing away with a sense of dawning horror, he repeated over and over to himself: “It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t! That’s not possible! It’s…it’s…”
Beautiful.
That was what Rene had meant to say. But the word felt so utterly absurd given the context that it took all his will to keep from bursting into a fit of deranged laughter. And who could have blamed him?
For beneath the ruined visage of flesh, the creature wore the face of a woman.
2024.05.14 19:50 IIsForInglip Finally beat Side Order with the dualies....
I beat it first with the splattershot, and I've still got all the other palettes to do (I've gotten past floor 20 on several of them) but man this stuff gets rough. I've managed to unlock a lot of the hacks and that's probably why I finally beat dualies. I also got a several ink damage chips, dodge roll attack, and had Pearl tricked out with the killer wail and burst bombs. Oh yeah, and I got the Trizooka from a vending machine (which helped a ton with crowd control) and a bunch of floors with color saturation bonuses.
Note to self, increasing fire rate is a double-edged sword... you can do a ton more damage but you run out of ink super fast! Found this out when I got a red chip saturation on one floor.
submitted by IIsForInglip to splatoon [link] [comments]
Note to self, increasing fire rate is a double-edged sword... you can do a ton more damage but you run out of ink super fast! Found this out when I got a red chip saturation on one floor.
2024.05.14 19:39 PhantasmagoriaLuna Phantasphere- Genocide Reigns Part 2
Genocide looked to the sky. He thought of his mentor. The one who had saved him. He remembered his childhood. How powerless he was. He remembered the anger. He never wanted to hurt anybody. He thought of all the times he showed compassion. How much they hurt him for it. He saw the world before him, a graveyard. Humans. People that were supposed to be made in the image of some divine creator. They were but maggots feasting upon his remains. They ate away at his very being until nothing human remained. His thoughts were no longer his own. He had no joys in life that mattered. He hated humanity more than he could love anything about himself. He remember his first killing spree. Being gunned down by police. Left for dead. He remembered a hooded figure moving towards him. Getting closer the more he neared his death. He saw its pale face. Its impossibly black eyes. It was a man. This figure in question appeared to be of Japanese nationality with long, straight, loose hair. It emanated extreme malice. It offered him a choice. A purpose. Power. He thought the figure a reaper but it identified itself as Amakusa Masataka. Masataka guided him on how to kill and gave him specific locations to kill people in. In a sense, he became a hitman for quotas of people. He inquired what Masataka was. The presence of evil, his ability to appear and disappear at will, how he could control what people could see him and what people couldn't. While vague, years of killing for this being offered some insight. Amakusa Masataka belonged to a group of people not of this world. His people had been corrupted by a dark force long ago and had aligned themselves with the warlord who had subjugated their version of Japan. Their dark high priest assisted the warlord along with two others. These four rulers in turn served a larger order. The four were tasked with bringing about the end of the current world as an act of retribution for some fallen deity. Masataka's people acted as covert operatives for this empire. They were feared across the land and were collectively referred to as "Shinigami". An agent of the coming apocalypse, a servant of evil possessed by the will of those gods of death, Genocide would walk the earth.
Genocide stepped toward the station. A police cruiser rammed into him. He pulled out a knife and stabbed the hood of the car. The inhuman force of the knife created sparks which burst the engine into flames. The car crashed into a streetlight and exploded. A second cruiser neared the scene. No way a man could have done this. Yet still, out of the fires Genocide strode forth. It set upon the second vehicle, shooting out it's tires while jumping 9 feet into the air. The car tries to reverse but crashes into a wall. Genocide lands on the hood and kicks through the front window. Glass shatters under its boot, blinding the two officers inside. Genocide shoots one of the officers with a shotgun, killing him. The second officer in the passenger seat readies his pistol and takes aim. Only two shots fired, both directed at Genocide's head. It casually cocks its neck to avoid them. Then it grabs the officer's arm, breaking it. Genocide uses its free hand to grab the officer's head and bangs it into the dashboard no less than 5 times. The skull is shattered on the final impact. Genocide jumps off the car and continues on his mission.
Detective Evans speaks through a megaphone," This is your first and final warning. Stand down or we will use any and all means at our disposal to put you down." Genocide dropped its shotgun and raised its hands. A group of five SWAT team members rushed out the station, surrounding Genocide with riot shields. An officer accompanies them, edging behind the figure to apply handcuffs. Suddenly, Genocide springs to life , grabbing the officer behind him. He flips the officer over his head, slamming him into the pavement at his feet. Then Genocide stomps his head causing it to burst. Genocide drops a flash bomb from his coat sleeve, blinding the SWAT team as he draws his knife. He drives it into one SWAT member, the knife puncturing the shield and piercing his chest. Genocide kicks the corpse away withdrawing his knife. He goes to another, this time using the end of his boot toe in a rising kick to disarm their shield. He grabs them by the throat and drives the knife slowly into their eye socket. Another is tackled to the ground and beaten to death despite still being under the shield. Another is picked up and thrown into the fires still burning from the first auto incident. In no time, Genocide stood before an indistinguishable mass of gore, blood streaking across his black leather outfit. He laughed" So this is all you can give me. I'm not entertained." Officers took aim from the station windows, and snipers did so from other rooftops. Genocide laughed maniacally as he was rained down upon from all sides by a hailstorm of bullets. His body convulsed, but he did not fall. Moments more and he was on his knees. Still though, their efforts were futile. Gracia looked out and saw a black mist coalescing around the man in black. His blood. Blood erupted from his body only to transform into this dark mist that reentered his wounds. Genocide screamed. No. It was just an elevated pitch in his laughter. Optimism failed everyone yet again. Gracia saw Genocide holding something in his right hand. She could only make out a beeping red light. Genocide pushed the button triggering the carefully concealed explosives he laid in preparation for this event. C4 explosives went off in all the places he saw fit. The sniping posts he couldn't reach. The assault of lead lightened. Then Genocide drew an RPG from...somewhere. He collected himself and fired at the station's entrance. The explosion shook the station. From inside, the lights began to flicker. Communications were down on all fronts. Had he modified the rocket with some type of EMP? Not good. Amisdst the confusion Genocide entered using smoke bombs to mask his presence. Moving like a shadow, he killed everyone in the lobby silently with his knife. He made his way to the holding cells. Still they chanted. Still they praised. Still they raved for the arrival of genocide. Genocide shot the lock opening the cell. Jim Jimenez walked out and bowed before his master. Genocide smiled. He couldn't have imagined how proficient he had gotten with possession. Well, not quite possession. He had known of the Shinigami's ability to share their thoughts and emotions with humans. Shinigami like his mentor were ancient. They had so many years of memories, such strong a hatred for life that they overwhelmed the personality of the victim. The victim sees themselves as one of them. Shinigami can't force the will of the victim, so they find those who are already similar to them in some way. Genocide found the collective universal distrust of police to be a prime sentiment to capitalize on. He armed the inmates, infecting them with samples of his own dark essence.One particular inmate caught Genocide's eye. He knew the man's work. An arsonist. The one whom he recalls was responsible for blowing up his first car way back in high school. Rather than a standard firearm, Genocide gave the man a random assortment of grenades containing a special surprise. Genocide showed them visions of anarchy, of sending a message to a society that used and disregarded them. While this was also true of how he felt, years of living in darkness had changed him. He needed no purpose. No end goal. No justification. He just wanted to watch the world burn.
Genocide's small army broke off to engage several different wings of the station. Genocide went to the security room. He found Wayne, his informant, playing some FPS on one of the monitors. Wayne took of his headphones and asked," You kill everyone yet?" Genocide responded," No. You should get going before that happens. Your life becomes fair game if I run out of pigs to cook." Wayne clapped his hands, "Aight, GC my man, say less." He packed his things and left. Genocide drew a twin pair of handguns and laid waste to the station. He followed a group that took cover in the men's restroom. Kicking open multiple stalls he was surprised to find...nothing. Where had they gone? He turned around and saw his mentor, Masataka, smiling at him. It looked like him. Long, dark hair, black clothing, and soulless, empty eyes. But it wasn't. It was Genocide's own reflection in the mirror. Genocide smiled. He didn't notice the changes at first. They must have happened gradually. Subconsciously. From the final stall, an officer sprung into action, rushing Genocide, hitting him point blank with a shockgun round. Genocide felt the tingling sensation electrifying his body and grew numb. In spite of the pain, he took a single step. Then, another. He came within striking range of the officer and snatched the shockgun. Two more officers erupted from another stall, battering him with baton strikes. Genocide felt nothing. He clutched the shockgun in his hand like a bat and went to work pulverizing his attackers. An officer kicked in the bathroom door, a woman holding a pistol. She fired multiple times to no effect. Genocide stood covered in blood. He even let her reload. Twice. He wanted to see her despair. Her hopelessness. He walked towards her, shrugging off bullets as they pierced his body. His wounds healed nigh instantly due to the dark essence he had been imbued with. He held her face with both hands, lifting her body off the ground. As she screamed, he used her head to shatter the restroom mirror, running down the full length of it while smashing her into it at several points. He dropped the remains of what he held, washed his hands with soap, dried them, then exited the restroom.
The inmates that rallied for the cause of genocide attacked the station. Fortunately, they were nowhere near Genocide in terms of power and only carried one type of firearm each. They shared his healing ability but could be killed quite easily. Gracia encountered a sniper on the end or a west wing hallway. Other officers waited behind corners unable to get close. Gracia noticed the faulty lighting. In this hallway, the lights flickered in intervals of 3 seconds. Finding a pattern and timing her movements, she rushed the sniper at the exact moment the lights went out. Running the length of the hall, Gracia zigzagged, dodging the sniper inmate's bullets. She jumped on a wall, ran 3 feet on it, then kicked off it, pouncing on the assailant. She fired five shots into him, making sure to hit the brain and the heart. Two severe injuries that were impossible for Shinigami essence to heal simultaneously. Elsewhere, Evans took on another escaped inmate. A vehicular arsonist named Carson. Carson had a bag filled with an assortment of different grenades and was happily giving them out like candy on Halloween. "A flash bang here, a bit of tear gas there. Oh. Wait! Was that an ice grenade? Did the explosion freeze your leg to the floor? Whoops. Maybe a fire grenade will melt that for you. Hold on let me get one fore you," Carson rambled gleefully. Evans looked at the carnage before him. Officers burning. Officers partially frozen in blocks of ice. He took a breath and aimed his wristgun. He steadied his right forearm. Carson readied to throw a random grenade. Evans shot it the moment it left Carson's hand. The grenade exploded directly in front of Carson. Both Evans and Carson looked at each other in shock. Confetti. A party grenade? Carson quickly fumbled for another but was tackled and restrained by several officers. Meanwhile in the South wing, Lary had some colleagues set a trap for another shotgun toting inmate. He had them bait the inmate and flee. Giving chase he turned a corner and ran straight into Lary's fist. The inmate recovered and motioned to shoot Lary. "Let's tango. " Lary gave the code word. Nearby officers activated a device. A signal jammer of sorts. The inmate shoved the barrel of his gun into Lary's gut and pulled the trigger. Nothing. The special signal jammer in question was designed for firearms. It was a last resort as it left officers just as defenseless. Lary was having fun. He boxed the inmate in hand to hand combat. Despite the inmate's enhanced strength, Lary's technique pulled through. Lary ducked under one of the inmate's wide punches and did some type of rising uppercut where he jumped off the ground while spinning. One of the other officers whispered" The rising dragon." Lary smiled giving a thumbs up" Yeah, it was a rising dragon uppercut. Saw it in one O my kid's vidya games. Thought I'd try it out while I'm jacked on adrenaline".
Jim Jimenez looked long and hard at himself in the mirror. He was in the women's restroom. Some brainless woman had broken the men's restroom mirror with her face. For the first time in a long while Jim could think clearly. He was becoming sane. At the least he was no longer a raving lunatic. The life essence of the dark gods had healed the wounds to both his body and his mind. He saw his face, his scraggly dirty beard. He found a razor and shaved. He trimmed his beard somewhat. He liked it. He washed his hair. It fell down his face like silk, no longer greasy. His bloodshot eyes once burning with crazed intensity had cooled. He blinked. Just for a second, he saw the man known as Genocide. The man that attacked him. The one that killed him and gave him new life. The drug dealers. The police. They were all the same in his eyes now. They were all to blame for the world being what it is. Jim wanted to hate them. He wanted to take revenge, but he felt nothing. It didn't matter. He knew he was wronged, could logically justify acting against them, but he just didn't care anymore. About anything. He was finally free. Sensing his presence was no longer needed here, Jim vanished into the night. He needed to find someone who had had the answers he needed. Himself. Who had he been? Who was he now? Who could he become? Where was he going? So many questions to ponder indefinitely. So much time left in the rest of his life.
Genocide ran down the station's halls raining hailstorms of bullets upon its occupants. He had a handgun in each hand as well as a wristgun on each wrist. This effectively gave him 4 separate firearms that he could use simultaneously. Lary regrouped with Gracia, Evans, and a handful of others. They radioed all surviving officers near Genocide to flee to the roof. This plan had been set in motion days before the assault and had been kept hidden from most of the force. The plan involved scheduling flights for several helicopters to arrive at some point after Genocide arrived. There would be no way for him to prepare for them and pre-scheduling their arrival ensured they arrived regardless of if they were called or not. Lary and the others set about preparing the second jamming device. Genocide stood among a hallway of bodies. He saw one man clinging to life trying to crawl away. He decided on trying that other thing he saw his master do. He grabbed the dying man and pinned him to the wall. Slowly he drove a knife into his chest. As the man's life slipped away, something else entered his body. Genocide channeled a small amount of his essence into the vessel. He had steadily done this with other casualties around the station whose bodies were somewhat salvageable. He dropped the body he was holding and looked upon the others. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his eyed were black, both sclera and iris. The scene before him changed. Genocide had a vision. He saw a dead gray wasteland littered with bodies. These people however weren't cops and wore traditional Japanese attire. In his hand wasn't a gun or knife but a short sickle akin to a farming tool. He heard a dark voice call out to him. Slowly, the corpses around him began to rise, now mere puppets bound eternally to their master's whim. The bodies sold to the reaper who had claimed their lives. Genocide's vision ended. His eyes had returned normal. Around him, dead cops began to rise. His dark essence had entered their bodies and reanimated them. He sent his dead army to attack the officers fleeing to the roof of the station. These zombies swarmed the stairwell giving chase to the few survivors. There were five of them. They had two flights of stairs to climb and a horde of their former colleagues close behind them. One officer tripped and was set upon by the horde. The zombies didn't bite them but held them firmly in place. The other four officers stared down wondering what to do. They could hear Genocide chuckling. They could hear humming. They could feel the temperature rising. Their colleague and the two zombies holding him were hit by an enormous green fireball. Genocide had fired a Magnum Opus and had charged the bullet to level 3. The Magnum Opus was simply a magnum that shot fireballs, with bullets that could be charged by holding down the trigger. It had three levels of charges. Level 1 was a small reddish ball of plasma. Level 2 was slightly larger and yellow. Level 3 was the maximum charge and resulted in a large slow moving green blast of energy. The officer was ignited and Genocide watched gleefully as the force of the blast sent him flying through a wall. The four officers continued up firing occasionally to slow down the zombies. Soon they made it to a door leading to the roof. Before one officer could reach it, he was sniped by Genocide, a bullet to the head killing him instantly. The remaining three made it out. They regrouped with the others already there, 12 in total, including Lary, Evans, and Gracia. This would be their final stand. They just had to hold out until Genocide made it up there. They just had to keep Genocide occupied until the helicopters arrived. Genocide slowly ascended the stairs behind his horde. On the roof, the remaining survivors faced off against waves of the undead. Evans recognized the attackers. These zombies were being controlled by nanomachines. He heard the stories of several weapons encountered by soldiers on the battlefield. These creatures were called Metaldeads as they were reanimated via machines. They had been officially banned by most of the worlds' governments for being unethical. However, this did not stop the technology from being spread still between shady organizations, terrorists, etc. Evans wondered how Genocide got this form of nanotechnology. Evans long speculated that the dark essence used by most of the killers they encountered was a a form of nanotech however it was different from anything else he had seen or heard about. The dark essence seemed to be an amalgamation of other types of nanotech. Evans had to save his inquiries for later. He reloaded his wristgun and took aim at the approaching group of Metaldeads. Gracia steadied her handgun and shot two Metaldeads in the head. From the single door countless arms seemed to spill forth from the darkness. The other officers took turns firing in intervals. this allowed them to create a steady stream of fire where no more that three guns needed to be reloaded at once. The horde seemed to thin out over time as if they were making progress. In actuality, the Metaldeads were just making room for Genocide to enter. Genocide exploded in a sprint from the door. Everyone fired upon the killer. Genocide had now chosen a wrist mounted mini flamethrower to use as his weapon. He stormed past the oncoming bullets taking some damage, but refused to slow down. He unleashed a stream of fire that caught five of the officers in one fell swoop. Gracia fired five rounds into Genocide's face. He stumbled back. Lary took the chance to fire several mine gun bullets at Genocide's feet. The mines quickly detected his movement and exploded. In seconds, Genocide was on his back.
Staring at the night sky Genocide saw the moon. He reached for it. He called for the darkness to give him more power. His wounds began healing. In the sky he could hear the whirl of propellers. There were six helicopters in total. The first two had evacuated the survivors while the others stayed to engage Genocide. Genocide got up and unstrapped the sniper rifle from his back. He stood before the searchlights as a black silhouette, cornered but unwilling to back down. Lary stared down at him smiling. "Okay!" He shouted, "Let's Tango!" Upon this declaration the second jamming device was activated. Now, isolated on the roof, Genocide's guns couldn't be fired and the helicopters were out of range of the device. Now Genocide stood like a sitting duck. A helicopter fired a rocket. Genocide side stepped and grabbed it. He turned his body redirecting the rocket to hit another helicopter. As it exploded Genocide drew his knife and threw it at another helicopter. Behind the knife was such force that it shattered the helicopter window's glass, embedding itself in the pilot. This helicopter too went down where it exploded. "Holy clucknuggets!Did you see that!?" Lary said dumbfounded. Evans looked out the helicopter door he was in jaw open in shock. "There's no way." He collected himself quickly and radioed the remaining two helicopters to keep moving and to use their machineguns as much as possible. The helicopters reigned down upon Genocide tearing apart his body. Shreds of leather and darkened blood sprayed across the pavement of the roof. Gracia watched as Genocide's body was destroyed repeatedly as it tried to heal. Surely he had to stop at some point. After 10 minutes the helicopters had exhausted their cache of ammunition and soldiers opted to fire their own rifles and occasionally throw grenades. After about six minutes, they too had run out of bullets. Genocide stood unfazed. He had long since healed himself and now appeared intangible with gunfire seeming to pass through his body. His coat once ripped , now appeared whole though on closer inspection seemed to writhe. Gracia looked in horror as she remembered the tales her adopted father had told her. Tales he had in turn heard from his predecessors. Every so often officers had reported encounters with ghost like beings cloaked in a cloud of living dark mist. The beings were rumored to be responsible for the deaths of multiple people ranging from scientists, veterans, mafia, politicians, etc. They were seen near such crime scenes and even more shockingly appeared around several sites where suicides were committed. These beings were reportedly impervious to bullets and filled anyone who got near with an impending sense of dread. If Genocide was connected to them or somehow turning into one , there was little chance they would be able to defeat him. Gracia's fears were confirmed when she saw that Genocide's leather coat had been destroyed and he had replaced it with the dark mist coalescing from his own spilled blood. The dark mist, swirling, grew larger and several tendrils sprouted out from it. Gracia could briefly make out a figure standing next to Genocide. A hooded figure cloaked in the same black substance. The figure stared up at her with soulless, blackened eyes which seemed to beckon her to jump from the aircraft she was standing in. Compelling her to give in to the death that plagued the earth. Genocide kneeled to his master. The Shinigami, Masataka stared down at his disciple. "You have done a great service to us. Even now the sealed god stirs in its slumber. Its...Awakening will soon be upon us. It calls out for war. It begs for famine. It longs to continue its conquest. We are the death it so desires. The death that is necessary for this civilization to grow. Use the power that I have bestowed upon you. Finish the mission as you see fit." The Shinigami vanished and Genocide stood.Genocide stared at his hands. He remembered the first killing spree. He was on a bus. It stopped. A woman got on the bus and walked to the back smiling as she passed him. Something about her eyes unnerved him. They were so bright but something dark reflected inside them. He ignored the thought and put in his headphones. In minutes he had dozed off. He jumped awake. He looked around and froze in panic. All around him, everyone had been hacked to pieces. He saw the driver, actively being stabbed by a masked assailant. The mask, painted white with black eyeholes, stared back at him. It raised a finger over where its lips would be. Even under the expressionless visage, he could feel that same smile. He ran home that morning. He went to his room to find it destroyed. His posters, his computer, his tv, everything, had been ruined. He turned around and saw a man at the end of the hallway holding a sledge hammer. "The hell you been, boy?", his stepdad sneered. The man dropped his hammer and walked closer, veins pulsing with rage. He tried to explain how his car had caught fire forcing him to walk 4 miles to the nearest bus stop, but the man's fist was faster than his words. "Boy!Answer me when I talk to you!!" the man says as he backhands the taste out of the would be Genocide's mouth. He took that beating for several minutes before being left to stare at his ransacked room. He hated how his stepdad went out of his way to destroy the things he loved. Soon, another set of footsteps could be heard. It was his mother standing behind his locked door. She didn't knock, or say anything. She just stood there, doing nothing as always. He never knew if she came to talk to him or apologize. All he knew was that she could never bring herself to speak to or even acknowledge him. Maybe out of guilt or perhaps shame. A year or two later after he had had enough he ran away from home. Living out on the streets alone, without friends, or family, he would embark on countless killing sprees. These killings weren't of his own volition however. He was coerced by some corrupt officers from The Unit. They made him kill on their behalf. Sometimes they were protesters, sometimes they were drug dealers, other times, petty criminals they couldn't be bothered to process. It was routine for him to be used to kill entire houses of drug riddled addicts. During one such venture he entered a drug den, killing the dealer as instructed. He took out several junkies before turning to leave. A woman who survived her injuries clung to his heel begging him to stop. Looking down he aimed the handgun he was carrying at her head of long disheveled brown hair and fired. Feeling nothing, he kicked her body aside like trash when it hit him. Her face. This woman had been his mother. What was she doing in a place like this? He felt a shock of emotion. He wondered if she had always been like this, or had she changed after he left. He never made amends, but decided to stop killing from then on. The unit did not like that. Once it became apparent that he was no longer of use to them they started a manhunt to apprehend him with lethal force. They found him. They killed him. But he survived.
He remembered the girl on the bus. He remembered her eyes. Those of a sadistic killer. Still there was something else inside them. Something faint but deeper. So. Much. Sadness. Just like him. He felt the hatred begin to spread. His purpose, he decided, was to make all humans rot in the hell they created for him.
These people, he thought to himself, these living diseases, all needed to die. Their struggles, their problems, they spread like cancer to others. The only cure for humanity's sin, its collective wrongdoings, was genocide.
Around him, dark tendrils continued to form and expand, spinning in a vortex. Genocide pulled out two pistols. He squeezed the triggers to no effect. "As I see fit, huh? Hehe." He squeezed both guns in his hands, breaking them into pieces. He concentrated. In his hands, two more guns materialized now completely black due to being forged from the dark essence. Forged by his will. Immune to the jamming device that shut down conventional firearms. He raised his arms at each remaining helicopter and opened fire. Countless tendrils whipped out and slashed at his targets joining the dark essence bullets. It was chaos. Dark tendrils and bullets tore through every direction as Genocide spun and swirled around in 360 degrees firing randomly with purpose. A tendril pierced Gracia's right arm, another, her abdomen. She was however, fortunate, as the other passengers of her helicopter were dismembered. She barely had time to jump from the vehicle before it crashed. She fell 2 yards onto solid concrete. She felt immense pain as her right shoulder shattered on impact. She looked up to see Genocide's blade like appendages ripping through the other escape helicopters. She rolled onto her back and tried to steady herself. Within seconds her body began to repair itself. The nanocells inside her had saved her life but were now depleted. She would need another supplement lest she receive another fatal injury. The standard nanocells she and the others had were much less potent than those of the killers they faced. In truth, they had only minimal strength boosts being able to lift 5-8 more pounds than before and healing being limited to one or two fatal injuries so long as death didn't occur instantly. Gracia blacked out. She awoke the next morning in a hospital. There the doctors refilled her nanocells. She learned that the station had been left in ruins. Genocide had detonated some type of minature nuke following his rampage. He always blew up the stations as if to send a message. Gracia looked out the window thinking about why she became a cop. Twice her family had been murdered by them. Her biological family had been killed in an on record drug raid committed by a group of corrupt officers called The Unit. She had been adopted by another officer that arrived at the scene who found her as a child hiding in a closed. Sadly, he too was killed for trying to expose the activities of The Unit. Gracia joined the force to avenge both losses and bring justice to the killers that disguised themselves as normal people. Law enforcement was neither good, nor bad. It depended upon the people that made it up. In the dying corrupt world Gracia lived in, she vowed to be a beacon of light. Evans laid in a bed adjacent to Lary. "That damn Genocide's somethin else in' he?Like the stories you told us were understatements. That man could legit not die at this point in the story. Like he has friggin plot armor or somthin.'' Evans cut him off" I get it. We all got our asses handed to us. But did you see that ..thing that appeared next to him. Right before he created that black vortex that wiped us out. That must have something to do with his power. Maybe there's a still a way to stop him."Lary chimed in," That fella looked like he was on the way to a black metal concert wit all the black facepaint he was wearin' Creeped me out to be honest." As the survivors mulled over their predicament, the cycle of evil continued to spread elsewhere.
Budley flips through the pages of a magazine. He checks his watch. He looks around the gas station and doesn't see any customers. Seizing the opportunity, he puts in his headphones and begins playing an imaginary guitar as he jams to a progressive deathcore album. Oblivious to the screams coming from outside, the store clerk moves on to thumping two candy bars on the counter to simulate drums. Budley sees that his shift has ended and begins locking up the store. He sweeps the aisles and jumps as a shadow appears behind him. He turns and sees a well groomed bearded man dressed in a black hoodie, black shirt, and black and gray camo pants. The man holds out his hand and smiles. Budley rings up the pack of nicotine substitute gum. "Tryin to kick the habit huh?" Budley asks. The man replies, "Somethin like that. Gotta get my priorities back in check. Focus on the things that really matter. That damn KonCreep's a hell of a band aren't they?" He nods to the playlist on Budley's phone. "Yeah, they're killer. just got into them a month back." Budley answers. "You know, I'm something of a musician myself. Maybe you'll hear of me on the news someday." Jim Jimenez says as he sees himself out. He walks to the back of the building and passes an ominous form of graffiti. A woman lays unmoving and above her, written on concrete in red is a message that simply says "Genocide Reigns".
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Genocide stepped toward the station. A police cruiser rammed into him. He pulled out a knife and stabbed the hood of the car. The inhuman force of the knife created sparks which burst the engine into flames. The car crashed into a streetlight and exploded. A second cruiser neared the scene. No way a man could have done this. Yet still, out of the fires Genocide strode forth. It set upon the second vehicle, shooting out it's tires while jumping 9 feet into the air. The car tries to reverse but crashes into a wall. Genocide lands on the hood and kicks through the front window. Glass shatters under its boot, blinding the two officers inside. Genocide shoots one of the officers with a shotgun, killing him. The second officer in the passenger seat readies his pistol and takes aim. Only two shots fired, both directed at Genocide's head. It casually cocks its neck to avoid them. Then it grabs the officer's arm, breaking it. Genocide uses its free hand to grab the officer's head and bangs it into the dashboard no less than 5 times. The skull is shattered on the final impact. Genocide jumps off the car and continues on his mission.
Detective Evans speaks through a megaphone," This is your first and final warning. Stand down or we will use any and all means at our disposal to put you down." Genocide dropped its shotgun and raised its hands. A group of five SWAT team members rushed out the station, surrounding Genocide with riot shields. An officer accompanies them, edging behind the figure to apply handcuffs. Suddenly, Genocide springs to life , grabbing the officer behind him. He flips the officer over his head, slamming him into the pavement at his feet. Then Genocide stomps his head causing it to burst. Genocide drops a flash bomb from his coat sleeve, blinding the SWAT team as he draws his knife. He drives it into one SWAT member, the knife puncturing the shield and piercing his chest. Genocide kicks the corpse away withdrawing his knife. He goes to another, this time using the end of his boot toe in a rising kick to disarm their shield. He grabs them by the throat and drives the knife slowly into their eye socket. Another is tackled to the ground and beaten to death despite still being under the shield. Another is picked up and thrown into the fires still burning from the first auto incident. In no time, Genocide stood before an indistinguishable mass of gore, blood streaking across his black leather outfit. He laughed" So this is all you can give me. I'm not entertained." Officers took aim from the station windows, and snipers did so from other rooftops. Genocide laughed maniacally as he was rained down upon from all sides by a hailstorm of bullets. His body convulsed, but he did not fall. Moments more and he was on his knees. Still though, their efforts were futile. Gracia looked out and saw a black mist coalescing around the man in black. His blood. Blood erupted from his body only to transform into this dark mist that reentered his wounds. Genocide screamed. No. It was just an elevated pitch in his laughter. Optimism failed everyone yet again. Gracia saw Genocide holding something in his right hand. She could only make out a beeping red light. Genocide pushed the button triggering the carefully concealed explosives he laid in preparation for this event. C4 explosives went off in all the places he saw fit. The sniping posts he couldn't reach. The assault of lead lightened. Then Genocide drew an RPG from...somewhere. He collected himself and fired at the station's entrance. The explosion shook the station. From inside, the lights began to flicker. Communications were down on all fronts. Had he modified the rocket with some type of EMP? Not good. Amisdst the confusion Genocide entered using smoke bombs to mask his presence. Moving like a shadow, he killed everyone in the lobby silently with his knife. He made his way to the holding cells. Still they chanted. Still they praised. Still they raved for the arrival of genocide. Genocide shot the lock opening the cell. Jim Jimenez walked out and bowed before his master. Genocide smiled. He couldn't have imagined how proficient he had gotten with possession. Well, not quite possession. He had known of the Shinigami's ability to share their thoughts and emotions with humans. Shinigami like his mentor were ancient. They had so many years of memories, such strong a hatred for life that they overwhelmed the personality of the victim. The victim sees themselves as one of them. Shinigami can't force the will of the victim, so they find those who are already similar to them in some way. Genocide found the collective universal distrust of police to be a prime sentiment to capitalize on. He armed the inmates, infecting them with samples of his own dark essence.One particular inmate caught Genocide's eye. He knew the man's work. An arsonist. The one whom he recalls was responsible for blowing up his first car way back in high school. Rather than a standard firearm, Genocide gave the man a random assortment of grenades containing a special surprise. Genocide showed them visions of anarchy, of sending a message to a society that used and disregarded them. While this was also true of how he felt, years of living in darkness had changed him. He needed no purpose. No end goal. No justification. He just wanted to watch the world burn.
Genocide's small army broke off to engage several different wings of the station. Genocide went to the security room. He found Wayne, his informant, playing some FPS on one of the monitors. Wayne took of his headphones and asked," You kill everyone yet?" Genocide responded," No. You should get going before that happens. Your life becomes fair game if I run out of pigs to cook." Wayne clapped his hands, "Aight, GC my man, say less." He packed his things and left. Genocide drew a twin pair of handguns and laid waste to the station. He followed a group that took cover in the men's restroom. Kicking open multiple stalls he was surprised to find...nothing. Where had they gone? He turned around and saw his mentor, Masataka, smiling at him. It looked like him. Long, dark hair, black clothing, and soulless, empty eyes. But it wasn't. It was Genocide's own reflection in the mirror. Genocide smiled. He didn't notice the changes at first. They must have happened gradually. Subconsciously. From the final stall, an officer sprung into action, rushing Genocide, hitting him point blank with a shockgun round. Genocide felt the tingling sensation electrifying his body and grew numb. In spite of the pain, he took a single step. Then, another. He came within striking range of the officer and snatched the shockgun. Two more officers erupted from another stall, battering him with baton strikes. Genocide felt nothing. He clutched the shockgun in his hand like a bat and went to work pulverizing his attackers. An officer kicked in the bathroom door, a woman holding a pistol. She fired multiple times to no effect. Genocide stood covered in blood. He even let her reload. Twice. He wanted to see her despair. Her hopelessness. He walked towards her, shrugging off bullets as they pierced his body. His wounds healed nigh instantly due to the dark essence he had been imbued with. He held her face with both hands, lifting her body off the ground. As she screamed, he used her head to shatter the restroom mirror, running down the full length of it while smashing her into it at several points. He dropped the remains of what he held, washed his hands with soap, dried them, then exited the restroom.
The inmates that rallied for the cause of genocide attacked the station. Fortunately, they were nowhere near Genocide in terms of power and only carried one type of firearm each. They shared his healing ability but could be killed quite easily. Gracia encountered a sniper on the end or a west wing hallway. Other officers waited behind corners unable to get close. Gracia noticed the faulty lighting. In this hallway, the lights flickered in intervals of 3 seconds. Finding a pattern and timing her movements, she rushed the sniper at the exact moment the lights went out. Running the length of the hall, Gracia zigzagged, dodging the sniper inmate's bullets. She jumped on a wall, ran 3 feet on it, then kicked off it, pouncing on the assailant. She fired five shots into him, making sure to hit the brain and the heart. Two severe injuries that were impossible for Shinigami essence to heal simultaneously. Elsewhere, Evans took on another escaped inmate. A vehicular arsonist named Carson. Carson had a bag filled with an assortment of different grenades and was happily giving them out like candy on Halloween. "A flash bang here, a bit of tear gas there. Oh. Wait! Was that an ice grenade? Did the explosion freeze your leg to the floor? Whoops. Maybe a fire grenade will melt that for you. Hold on let me get one fore you," Carson rambled gleefully. Evans looked at the carnage before him. Officers burning. Officers partially frozen in blocks of ice. He took a breath and aimed his wristgun. He steadied his right forearm. Carson readied to throw a random grenade. Evans shot it the moment it left Carson's hand. The grenade exploded directly in front of Carson. Both Evans and Carson looked at each other in shock. Confetti. A party grenade? Carson quickly fumbled for another but was tackled and restrained by several officers. Meanwhile in the South wing, Lary had some colleagues set a trap for another shotgun toting inmate. He had them bait the inmate and flee. Giving chase he turned a corner and ran straight into Lary's fist. The inmate recovered and motioned to shoot Lary. "Let's tango. " Lary gave the code word. Nearby officers activated a device. A signal jammer of sorts. The inmate shoved the barrel of his gun into Lary's gut and pulled the trigger. Nothing. The special signal jammer in question was designed for firearms. It was a last resort as it left officers just as defenseless. Lary was having fun. He boxed the inmate in hand to hand combat. Despite the inmate's enhanced strength, Lary's technique pulled through. Lary ducked under one of the inmate's wide punches and did some type of rising uppercut where he jumped off the ground while spinning. One of the other officers whispered" The rising dragon." Lary smiled giving a thumbs up" Yeah, it was a rising dragon uppercut. Saw it in one O my kid's vidya games. Thought I'd try it out while I'm jacked on adrenaline".
Jim Jimenez looked long and hard at himself in the mirror. He was in the women's restroom. Some brainless woman had broken the men's restroom mirror with her face. For the first time in a long while Jim could think clearly. He was becoming sane. At the least he was no longer a raving lunatic. The life essence of the dark gods had healed the wounds to both his body and his mind. He saw his face, his scraggly dirty beard. He found a razor and shaved. He trimmed his beard somewhat. He liked it. He washed his hair. It fell down his face like silk, no longer greasy. His bloodshot eyes once burning with crazed intensity had cooled. He blinked. Just for a second, he saw the man known as Genocide. The man that attacked him. The one that killed him and gave him new life. The drug dealers. The police. They were all the same in his eyes now. They were all to blame for the world being what it is. Jim wanted to hate them. He wanted to take revenge, but he felt nothing. It didn't matter. He knew he was wronged, could logically justify acting against them, but he just didn't care anymore. About anything. He was finally free. Sensing his presence was no longer needed here, Jim vanished into the night. He needed to find someone who had had the answers he needed. Himself. Who had he been? Who was he now? Who could he become? Where was he going? So many questions to ponder indefinitely. So much time left in the rest of his life.
Genocide ran down the station's halls raining hailstorms of bullets upon its occupants. He had a handgun in each hand as well as a wristgun on each wrist. This effectively gave him 4 separate firearms that he could use simultaneously. Lary regrouped with Gracia, Evans, and a handful of others. They radioed all surviving officers near Genocide to flee to the roof. This plan had been set in motion days before the assault and had been kept hidden from most of the force. The plan involved scheduling flights for several helicopters to arrive at some point after Genocide arrived. There would be no way for him to prepare for them and pre-scheduling their arrival ensured they arrived regardless of if they were called or not. Lary and the others set about preparing the second jamming device. Genocide stood among a hallway of bodies. He saw one man clinging to life trying to crawl away. He decided on trying that other thing he saw his master do. He grabbed the dying man and pinned him to the wall. Slowly he drove a knife into his chest. As the man's life slipped away, something else entered his body. Genocide channeled a small amount of his essence into the vessel. He had steadily done this with other casualties around the station whose bodies were somewhat salvageable. He dropped the body he was holding and looked upon the others. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his eyed were black, both sclera and iris. The scene before him changed. Genocide had a vision. He saw a dead gray wasteland littered with bodies. These people however weren't cops and wore traditional Japanese attire. In his hand wasn't a gun or knife but a short sickle akin to a farming tool. He heard a dark voice call out to him. Slowly, the corpses around him began to rise, now mere puppets bound eternally to their master's whim. The bodies sold to the reaper who had claimed their lives. Genocide's vision ended. His eyes had returned normal. Around him, dead cops began to rise. His dark essence had entered their bodies and reanimated them. He sent his dead army to attack the officers fleeing to the roof of the station. These zombies swarmed the stairwell giving chase to the few survivors. There were five of them. They had two flights of stairs to climb and a horde of their former colleagues close behind them. One officer tripped and was set upon by the horde. The zombies didn't bite them but held them firmly in place. The other four officers stared down wondering what to do. They could hear Genocide chuckling. They could hear humming. They could feel the temperature rising. Their colleague and the two zombies holding him were hit by an enormous green fireball. Genocide had fired a Magnum Opus and had charged the bullet to level 3. The Magnum Opus was simply a magnum that shot fireballs, with bullets that could be charged by holding down the trigger. It had three levels of charges. Level 1 was a small reddish ball of plasma. Level 2 was slightly larger and yellow. Level 3 was the maximum charge and resulted in a large slow moving green blast of energy. The officer was ignited and Genocide watched gleefully as the force of the blast sent him flying through a wall. The four officers continued up firing occasionally to slow down the zombies. Soon they made it to a door leading to the roof. Before one officer could reach it, he was sniped by Genocide, a bullet to the head killing him instantly. The remaining three made it out. They regrouped with the others already there, 12 in total, including Lary, Evans, and Gracia. This would be their final stand. They just had to hold out until Genocide made it up there. They just had to keep Genocide occupied until the helicopters arrived. Genocide slowly ascended the stairs behind his horde. On the roof, the remaining survivors faced off against waves of the undead. Evans recognized the attackers. These zombies were being controlled by nanomachines. He heard the stories of several weapons encountered by soldiers on the battlefield. These creatures were called Metaldeads as they were reanimated via machines. They had been officially banned by most of the worlds' governments for being unethical. However, this did not stop the technology from being spread still between shady organizations, terrorists, etc. Evans wondered how Genocide got this form of nanotechnology. Evans long speculated that the dark essence used by most of the killers they encountered was a a form of nanotech however it was different from anything else he had seen or heard about. The dark essence seemed to be an amalgamation of other types of nanotech. Evans had to save his inquiries for later. He reloaded his wristgun and took aim at the approaching group of Metaldeads. Gracia steadied her handgun and shot two Metaldeads in the head. From the single door countless arms seemed to spill forth from the darkness. The other officers took turns firing in intervals. this allowed them to create a steady stream of fire where no more that three guns needed to be reloaded at once. The horde seemed to thin out over time as if they were making progress. In actuality, the Metaldeads were just making room for Genocide to enter. Genocide exploded in a sprint from the door. Everyone fired upon the killer. Genocide had now chosen a wrist mounted mini flamethrower to use as his weapon. He stormed past the oncoming bullets taking some damage, but refused to slow down. He unleashed a stream of fire that caught five of the officers in one fell swoop. Gracia fired five rounds into Genocide's face. He stumbled back. Lary took the chance to fire several mine gun bullets at Genocide's feet. The mines quickly detected his movement and exploded. In seconds, Genocide was on his back.
Staring at the night sky Genocide saw the moon. He reached for it. He called for the darkness to give him more power. His wounds began healing. In the sky he could hear the whirl of propellers. There were six helicopters in total. The first two had evacuated the survivors while the others stayed to engage Genocide. Genocide got up and unstrapped the sniper rifle from his back. He stood before the searchlights as a black silhouette, cornered but unwilling to back down. Lary stared down at him smiling. "Okay!" He shouted, "Let's Tango!" Upon this declaration the second jamming device was activated. Now, isolated on the roof, Genocide's guns couldn't be fired and the helicopters were out of range of the device. Now Genocide stood like a sitting duck. A helicopter fired a rocket. Genocide side stepped and grabbed it. He turned his body redirecting the rocket to hit another helicopter. As it exploded Genocide drew his knife and threw it at another helicopter. Behind the knife was such force that it shattered the helicopter window's glass, embedding itself in the pilot. This helicopter too went down where it exploded. "Holy clucknuggets!Did you see that!?" Lary said dumbfounded. Evans looked out the helicopter door he was in jaw open in shock. "There's no way." He collected himself quickly and radioed the remaining two helicopters to keep moving and to use their machineguns as much as possible. The helicopters reigned down upon Genocide tearing apart his body. Shreds of leather and darkened blood sprayed across the pavement of the roof. Gracia watched as Genocide's body was destroyed repeatedly as it tried to heal. Surely he had to stop at some point. After 10 minutes the helicopters had exhausted their cache of ammunition and soldiers opted to fire their own rifles and occasionally throw grenades. After about six minutes, they too had run out of bullets. Genocide stood unfazed. He had long since healed himself and now appeared intangible with gunfire seeming to pass through his body. His coat once ripped , now appeared whole though on closer inspection seemed to writhe. Gracia looked in horror as she remembered the tales her adopted father had told her. Tales he had in turn heard from his predecessors. Every so often officers had reported encounters with ghost like beings cloaked in a cloud of living dark mist. The beings were rumored to be responsible for the deaths of multiple people ranging from scientists, veterans, mafia, politicians, etc. They were seen near such crime scenes and even more shockingly appeared around several sites where suicides were committed. These beings were reportedly impervious to bullets and filled anyone who got near with an impending sense of dread. If Genocide was connected to them or somehow turning into one , there was little chance they would be able to defeat him. Gracia's fears were confirmed when she saw that Genocide's leather coat had been destroyed and he had replaced it with the dark mist coalescing from his own spilled blood. The dark mist, swirling, grew larger and several tendrils sprouted out from it. Gracia could briefly make out a figure standing next to Genocide. A hooded figure cloaked in the same black substance. The figure stared up at her with soulless, blackened eyes which seemed to beckon her to jump from the aircraft she was standing in. Compelling her to give in to the death that plagued the earth. Genocide kneeled to his master. The Shinigami, Masataka stared down at his disciple. "You have done a great service to us. Even now the sealed god stirs in its slumber. Its...Awakening will soon be upon us. It calls out for war. It begs for famine. It longs to continue its conquest. We are the death it so desires. The death that is necessary for this civilization to grow. Use the power that I have bestowed upon you. Finish the mission as you see fit." The Shinigami vanished and Genocide stood.Genocide stared at his hands. He remembered the first killing spree. He was on a bus. It stopped. A woman got on the bus and walked to the back smiling as she passed him. Something about her eyes unnerved him. They were so bright but something dark reflected inside them. He ignored the thought and put in his headphones. In minutes he had dozed off. He jumped awake. He looked around and froze in panic. All around him, everyone had been hacked to pieces. He saw the driver, actively being stabbed by a masked assailant. The mask, painted white with black eyeholes, stared back at him. It raised a finger over where its lips would be. Even under the expressionless visage, he could feel that same smile. He ran home that morning. He went to his room to find it destroyed. His posters, his computer, his tv, everything, had been ruined. He turned around and saw a man at the end of the hallway holding a sledge hammer. "The hell you been, boy?", his stepdad sneered. The man dropped his hammer and walked closer, veins pulsing with rage. He tried to explain how his car had caught fire forcing him to walk 4 miles to the nearest bus stop, but the man's fist was faster than his words. "Boy!Answer me when I talk to you!!" the man says as he backhands the taste out of the would be Genocide's mouth. He took that beating for several minutes before being left to stare at his ransacked room. He hated how his stepdad went out of his way to destroy the things he loved. Soon, another set of footsteps could be heard. It was his mother standing behind his locked door. She didn't knock, or say anything. She just stood there, doing nothing as always. He never knew if she came to talk to him or apologize. All he knew was that she could never bring herself to speak to or even acknowledge him. Maybe out of guilt or perhaps shame. A year or two later after he had had enough he ran away from home. Living out on the streets alone, without friends, or family, he would embark on countless killing sprees. These killings weren't of his own volition however. He was coerced by some corrupt officers from The Unit. They made him kill on their behalf. Sometimes they were protesters, sometimes they were drug dealers, other times, petty criminals they couldn't be bothered to process. It was routine for him to be used to kill entire houses of drug riddled addicts. During one such venture he entered a drug den, killing the dealer as instructed. He took out several junkies before turning to leave. A woman who survived her injuries clung to his heel begging him to stop. Looking down he aimed the handgun he was carrying at her head of long disheveled brown hair and fired. Feeling nothing, he kicked her body aside like trash when it hit him. Her face. This woman had been his mother. What was she doing in a place like this? He felt a shock of emotion. He wondered if she had always been like this, or had she changed after he left. He never made amends, but decided to stop killing from then on. The unit did not like that. Once it became apparent that he was no longer of use to them they started a manhunt to apprehend him with lethal force. They found him. They killed him. But he survived.
He remembered the girl on the bus. He remembered her eyes. Those of a sadistic killer. Still there was something else inside them. Something faint but deeper. So. Much. Sadness. Just like him. He felt the hatred begin to spread. His purpose, he decided, was to make all humans rot in the hell they created for him.
These people, he thought to himself, these living diseases, all needed to die. Their struggles, their problems, they spread like cancer to others. The only cure for humanity's sin, its collective wrongdoings, was genocide.
Around him, dark tendrils continued to form and expand, spinning in a vortex. Genocide pulled out two pistols. He squeezed the triggers to no effect. "As I see fit, huh? Hehe." He squeezed both guns in his hands, breaking them into pieces. He concentrated. In his hands, two more guns materialized now completely black due to being forged from the dark essence. Forged by his will. Immune to the jamming device that shut down conventional firearms. He raised his arms at each remaining helicopter and opened fire. Countless tendrils whipped out and slashed at his targets joining the dark essence bullets. It was chaos. Dark tendrils and bullets tore through every direction as Genocide spun and swirled around in 360 degrees firing randomly with purpose. A tendril pierced Gracia's right arm, another, her abdomen. She was however, fortunate, as the other passengers of her helicopter were dismembered. She barely had time to jump from the vehicle before it crashed. She fell 2 yards onto solid concrete. She felt immense pain as her right shoulder shattered on impact. She looked up to see Genocide's blade like appendages ripping through the other escape helicopters. She rolled onto her back and tried to steady herself. Within seconds her body began to repair itself. The nanocells inside her had saved her life but were now depleted. She would need another supplement lest she receive another fatal injury. The standard nanocells she and the others had were much less potent than those of the killers they faced. In truth, they had only minimal strength boosts being able to lift 5-8 more pounds than before and healing being limited to one or two fatal injuries so long as death didn't occur instantly. Gracia blacked out. She awoke the next morning in a hospital. There the doctors refilled her nanocells. She learned that the station had been left in ruins. Genocide had detonated some type of minature nuke following his rampage. He always blew up the stations as if to send a message. Gracia looked out the window thinking about why she became a cop. Twice her family had been murdered by them. Her biological family had been killed in an on record drug raid committed by a group of corrupt officers called The Unit. She had been adopted by another officer that arrived at the scene who found her as a child hiding in a closed. Sadly, he too was killed for trying to expose the activities of The Unit. Gracia joined the force to avenge both losses and bring justice to the killers that disguised themselves as normal people. Law enforcement was neither good, nor bad. It depended upon the people that made it up. In the dying corrupt world Gracia lived in, she vowed to be a beacon of light. Evans laid in a bed adjacent to Lary. "That damn Genocide's somethin else in' he?Like the stories you told us were understatements. That man could legit not die at this point in the story. Like he has friggin plot armor or somthin.'' Evans cut him off" I get it. We all got our asses handed to us. But did you see that ..thing that appeared next to him. Right before he created that black vortex that wiped us out. That must have something to do with his power. Maybe there's a still a way to stop him."Lary chimed in," That fella looked like he was on the way to a black metal concert wit all the black facepaint he was wearin' Creeped me out to be honest." As the survivors mulled over their predicament, the cycle of evil continued to spread elsewhere.
Budley flips through the pages of a magazine. He checks his watch. He looks around the gas station and doesn't see any customers. Seizing the opportunity, he puts in his headphones and begins playing an imaginary guitar as he jams to a progressive deathcore album. Oblivious to the screams coming from outside, the store clerk moves on to thumping two candy bars on the counter to simulate drums. Budley sees that his shift has ended and begins locking up the store. He sweeps the aisles and jumps as a shadow appears behind him. He turns and sees a well groomed bearded man dressed in a black hoodie, black shirt, and black and gray camo pants. The man holds out his hand and smiles. Budley rings up the pack of nicotine substitute gum. "Tryin to kick the habit huh?" Budley asks. The man replies, "Somethin like that. Gotta get my priorities back in check. Focus on the things that really matter. That damn KonCreep's a hell of a band aren't they?" He nods to the playlist on Budley's phone. "Yeah, they're killer. just got into them a month back." Budley answers. "You know, I'm something of a musician myself. Maybe you'll hear of me on the news someday." Jim Jimenez says as he sees himself out. He walks to the back of the building and passes an ominous form of graffiti. A woman lays unmoving and above her, written on concrete in red is a message that simply says "Genocide Reigns".
2024.05.14 19:39 PhantasmagoriaLuna Phantasphere-Genocide Reigns Part 1
Genocide Reigns
(note: I'm an indie game developer making an action/horror title called Phantasphere. This story is a spin off set in the same universe)
Year 2480X Ryze County Police Department
He's coming. The ensuing panic spread like a virus infecting all present with symptoms of looming dread. Officers worked steadfast to prepare also taking what time remained to train the few combat hardened civilians whom had fled to the station earlier. If only they knew. This demon that presented itself as a man had led a string of senseless massacres across the country. Only recently had it begun to prioritize police stations and army bases as a means of breaking the will of civilians who knew they would be next. Officers from several counties across the states were transferred here for this last stand. This Genocide must not continue. Gracia checked her pistol. Some 20 bullets remained. "I can do this", she thought, "I have to". She had dealt with similar cases before. Some poor soul is overtaken by some inextricably evil force and makes it their life's work to propagate death. Gracia had killed quite a few already. Live arrests weren't always possible. Beyond saving, careful interrogations of the scarce live catches yielded a startling connection. These killers all alluded to a well of overwhelming hatred and despair that consumed them after making eye contact with...Pale, black eyed entities. Some type of demon? Ghost maybe? The idea seemed nonsensical, but there was evidence nonetheless that some outside force was using them to fulfill some unknown purpose. At the present time, all they could do was stop the killers after they had killed. It was always too late by then and more would appear randomly elsewhere. What good could be done here in an isolated station hoping to stop one guy out of possibly hundreds? "The guy we're waiting for is different from the others," detective Evans spoke from the center of a crowd nearby. Gracia moved in closer. "The others typically strike from the shadows, hide their faces behind masks, and prefer to get up close and personal with their victims. What we're dealing with is on a completely different scale. The trail of bloodshed this guy leaves is too difficult for the media to cover up. He loves the spectacle. Headlining the news. We can't keep using the burst pipeline excuse for 6 stations being destroyed in a row. We have to stop him before the world at large finds out. You wonder why we need so many people here? Its simple. We're gonna out-man this one man. He always attacks stations through the front door. Like other killers he's fast, strong- you know the usual, but he also uses guns." "What!", a voice rang out from the crowd. "They aren't supposed to do that!" another gasped. Officer Lary spoke with a cheesy grin" Ya tellin' me we just gotta deal with a regular ass gunman eh? That's a welcome change of pace init? Heck I'm too old to be running around being chased like I'm in some scary movie". The detective rebutted" You don't get it. He uses guns. Not a handgun, not rifles, not boom sticks, not rpgs, not knives not grenades but ALL of them. He uses guns. Plural. It'll take essentially an army to match his arsenal. He used to be a man named -redacted-, but in his pursuit of chaos he has become Genocide." A dark form manifests from the night outside the station. Genocide is coming.
Bang! something slams into the front door. Everyone freezes. Officer Tatum edges slowly to it, shockgun in hand. By no means lethal, the shockgun was lighter, easy to control, and could stun targets temporarily. If Genocide was here, Tatum could stun him and duck for cover leaving the station free to light him up like a Christmas tree. That was the plan they came up with. He got closer to the glass door and peered outside. He was met with hate filled bloodshot eyes framed by an unkempt beard and wild straggly hair. Tatum felt some relief. He knew the man outside. It was Jim Jimenez. Jim was a former drug dealer turned informant. He was found out and had to flee from his old life. He became homeless, hiding in plane sight. This allowed him safety at the cost of his mental health. Tatum knew the man, but those eyes were not his. Tatum blinked and saw that the look of malice had vanished. What he instead saw was a helpless, wounded man, bleeding from the right arm pleading for help. Tatum looked behind Jim, eyeing the empty lot. The coast seemingly clear Tatum unlocked the door and let Jim in. Jim had been roaming the town looking for shelter and tried squatting in an abandoned looking apartment complex. There he found that the building contained several murdered families some succumbing to gunshots but the majority having met their end to fire and suffocation. Jim had decided to make his way to the station to tell police what happened and met trouble on the way. He described getting stabbed by a man wearing a trench coat with long dark hair. Despite the injuries, Jim could move surprisingly well and seemed to ignore the pain. Jim insisted that the man had spared him on the condition he deliver a message. "What message?" Tatum asked. Jim beckoned him to come closer. Tatum leaned in and Jim whispered, "Tell them. Tell them that Genocide is coming closer." The following events were a blur. Jim had concealed the knife he was stabbed with. He stabbed Tatum 4 times in the chest and wrestled his shockgun away. Using Tatum as a shield, Jim engaged everyone in the lobby. Jim wasn't himself. He was stronger. He was faster. He was tactical. He would stun an officer in place only to stab them and use their as a body shield. No one could get a clear shot without hitting a colleague. Gracia watched the scene unfold. In minutes Jim had acquired a magnum from the holster of one of his victims. In seconds 3 officers had their heads exploded. The magnum rounds coated the walls red with those they hit and stained the clothes of those they missed. Gracia felt fear rising in her chest. She calmed herself and tried to think. She saw the bodies on the ground. The blood. She saw how dismissively Jim stepped over them. Like they were nothing. Like trash. She saw the man firing erratically into groups of people, not so much to kill but as to cause panic. That's it! As Gracia contemplated her next move it hit her. She was knocked backwards and landed on the ground. She weakly clutched her chest. Her breathing grew shallow. Jim mad his way deeper into the station. The officers were retreating from their standoff. Jim stepped over her body and saw red staining her uniform. Just another casualty. He moved on. At this point the civilians began panicking. Everyone gave up trying to save their allies and fired blindly at the madman. "Don't shoot the messenger," Jim laughed as he stripped his latest meat shield of an automatic rifle. Detective Evans took cover behind an overturned desk. To his left Larry struggled to light a cigar. "You still think this is a cakewalk?" Evans shouted firing 2 quick shots from his gun before ducking back down. Lary lost hold of his lighter and it clattered on the ground." Crap." He reached for it and looked in the corner of the room. A mirror. He looked at it for what seemed like ages and his smirk returned " Y'know that mex'n gal with the short hair. Where is she? I didn't see her get shot." Evans glanced a peak at Jim spraying lead in all directions. Behind him was a corpse. Evans blinked. It seemed to be getting closer. Its her. Gracia painstakingly inched her way into Jim's blind spot. She was roughly 6 feet away from him. Flanking him seemed like a brilliant idea but waiting idly by for the right moment as the people around her died filled her with anger. Worse still, she had to steal a blood soaked shirt from one of the deceased officers to keep up the facade. Inching ever so steadily she mad it within 3 feet of Jim. She reached behind her belt and unclipped a pair of handcuffs. Screams could be heard as more people were hit. Gracia couldn't wait any longer. Fluidly she got to her feet and rushed Jim. She kicked the back of his knee causing him to stumble as she put the handcuffs on him. Figuratively. The handcuffs were around Jim's neck. She yanked him back causing his gun to drop. "You don't know what you're doing." Jim spat. "We all need to accept it. The end of days is upon us. Death rides his horse through these forsaken lands. We must serve or be sacrificed in turn. Accept it!"He elbowed Gracia in the ribs causing her to let go. He spun around and lunged at her. She landed on her back, Jim steadily choking her. Gracia thought fast. She couldn't struggle. Jim was too strong. She delivered a precise chop to the center of Jim's neck which was exposed. Jim lurched back to catch his breath. A clean shot. A bullet pierced through Jim's back. Weakened, Gracia rolled him over and began punching him repeatedly using the handcuffs as brass knuckles. The sound of Jim's skull cracking echoed through the station. This would go on for nearly 20 seconds before Gracia stopped, checked his pulse, confirmed Jim was still alive, then finally put the cuffs on Jim's wrists.
Click. Bodies are wrapped and moved to a makeshift storage room. Click. The available weapons are gathered and redistributed. Click. Officers are assigned to sniping positions on neighboring buildings. Click. Police cruisers circle the lot outside. Click. In the holding cell, Jim opens his eyes. Click. Lary flicks his lighter. Click. Gracia sips coffee from a paper cup. Click. Shells hit the ground at the feet of Genocide. Click. Genocide walks outside a cafe and looks at the station in the distance. Click. Lary clicks his lighter.
"All ya'll gon' fall," Jim ranted." You can't drain the ocean. You can't put out the sun. Evil will always exist. That there Genocide is proof . I saw him. Saw myself within his eyes. Saw the evil in me that I could no longer try to hide. He taught me to embrace the darkness within. Its in all of us begging to be let out. Can you hear it!" Lary clicked his lighter and got up from his chair. He grabbed a cup of liquor from another officer mid sip and walked over to Jim. He doused it on Jim, the liquid stinging his open wounds. Jim yelped. Across the station, radios blurred to life. Several of their lookouts on the outside had been killed. "He's gon' get ya," Jim smiled imitating Lary's signature grin. "Genocide! Genocide! Genocide!" The other inmates saw the chance to irritate Lary and joined in all shouting in unison,"Ge-No-Cide! Ge-No-Cide! Ge-No-Cide!" The chanting grew louder. Unbearable. They invoked upon the name of the beast, and so it came.
Genocide is upon us. A wave of dread spread across the officers. They could feel its presence. Gracia knew the sensation. The awful aura that the other killers gave off. This was different. Far more oppressive. She struggled to breathe as the air got colder. Her instincts screamed for her to run. She could only imagine what the others were going through. Its time. Across the lot Genocide stood. A siren blared over the intercom. "Everyone get into positions!" Evans yelled. Wayne finished setting the last of the c4 near the station entrance. "That's the last of them. Have remote triggers set around all the major hallways. I'll be in the security room ready to pull the switch." Wayne acted as an explosives expert. His job was to detonate bombs placed throughout the station to slow down Genocide should it enter the building. He would stay in the security room, monitoring the cameras and giving real time updates on the officers' positions. From the holding cell, inmates chanted for Genocide. Lary got off his phone" That bastard mixed us up. How did we not notice?" Evans asked what he meant. Lary, dumbfounded, said that most of the town was already dead. Genocide had broken his usual pattern. He went on a killing spree across a defenseless town BEFORE attacking the police station. They had let everyone down. The people they swore to protect. This Genocide was a monster, but he was still a man. Capable of learning from his past actions. Planning. Adapting. It wasn't in his style to stealthily kill his victims or even use a silencer on any of his guns, but an exception had been made for tonight. An exception that would cost them. Gracia was stationed on the second floor. She peered out the window. Her heart skipped a beat. Two cruisers made slow donuts patrolling the lot and standing unmoving between them was a man all in black. Gracia called in to Wayne asking if he saw anything outside. Wayne said the monitors were all clear then checked again. He cursed. He noticed small details were off. The cameras showing the outside of the station were wrong. Sure they showed the same scenery and weather but cars passed by on screen too frequently for a dead town. Too many to make sense for the quarantine they had set in place. Wayne concluded that the cameras had been hacked. Different prerecorded footage was being shown on the live feed to misdirect them. Gracia saw the man look up at her. A light rain started to fall. The officers patrolling outside were contacted. From the holding cells, inmates called for genocide.
submitted by PhantasmagoriaLuna to DrCreepensVault [link] [comments]
(note: I'm an indie game developer making an action/horror title called Phantasphere. This story is a spin off set in the same universe)
Year 2480X Ryze County Police Department
He's coming. The ensuing panic spread like a virus infecting all present with symptoms of looming dread. Officers worked steadfast to prepare also taking what time remained to train the few combat hardened civilians whom had fled to the station earlier. If only they knew. This demon that presented itself as a man had led a string of senseless massacres across the country. Only recently had it begun to prioritize police stations and army bases as a means of breaking the will of civilians who knew they would be next. Officers from several counties across the states were transferred here for this last stand. This Genocide must not continue. Gracia checked her pistol. Some 20 bullets remained. "I can do this", she thought, "I have to". She had dealt with similar cases before. Some poor soul is overtaken by some inextricably evil force and makes it their life's work to propagate death. Gracia had killed quite a few already. Live arrests weren't always possible. Beyond saving, careful interrogations of the scarce live catches yielded a startling connection. These killers all alluded to a well of overwhelming hatred and despair that consumed them after making eye contact with...Pale, black eyed entities. Some type of demon? Ghost maybe? The idea seemed nonsensical, but there was evidence nonetheless that some outside force was using them to fulfill some unknown purpose. At the present time, all they could do was stop the killers after they had killed. It was always too late by then and more would appear randomly elsewhere. What good could be done here in an isolated station hoping to stop one guy out of possibly hundreds? "The guy we're waiting for is different from the others," detective Evans spoke from the center of a crowd nearby. Gracia moved in closer. "The others typically strike from the shadows, hide their faces behind masks, and prefer to get up close and personal with their victims. What we're dealing with is on a completely different scale. The trail of bloodshed this guy leaves is too difficult for the media to cover up. He loves the spectacle. Headlining the news. We can't keep using the burst pipeline excuse for 6 stations being destroyed in a row. We have to stop him before the world at large finds out. You wonder why we need so many people here? Its simple. We're gonna out-man this one man. He always attacks stations through the front door. Like other killers he's fast, strong- you know the usual, but he also uses guns." "What!", a voice rang out from the crowd. "They aren't supposed to do that!" another gasped. Officer Lary spoke with a cheesy grin" Ya tellin' me we just gotta deal with a regular ass gunman eh? That's a welcome change of pace init? Heck I'm too old to be running around being chased like I'm in some scary movie". The detective rebutted" You don't get it. He uses guns. Not a handgun, not rifles, not boom sticks, not rpgs, not knives not grenades but ALL of them. He uses guns. Plural. It'll take essentially an army to match his arsenal. He used to be a man named -redacted-, but in his pursuit of chaos he has become Genocide." A dark form manifests from the night outside the station. Genocide is coming.
Bang! something slams into the front door. Everyone freezes. Officer Tatum edges slowly to it, shockgun in hand. By no means lethal, the shockgun was lighter, easy to control, and could stun targets temporarily. If Genocide was here, Tatum could stun him and duck for cover leaving the station free to light him up like a Christmas tree. That was the plan they came up with. He got closer to the glass door and peered outside. He was met with hate filled bloodshot eyes framed by an unkempt beard and wild straggly hair. Tatum felt some relief. He knew the man outside. It was Jim Jimenez. Jim was a former drug dealer turned informant. He was found out and had to flee from his old life. He became homeless, hiding in plane sight. This allowed him safety at the cost of his mental health. Tatum knew the man, but those eyes were not his. Tatum blinked and saw that the look of malice had vanished. What he instead saw was a helpless, wounded man, bleeding from the right arm pleading for help. Tatum looked behind Jim, eyeing the empty lot. The coast seemingly clear Tatum unlocked the door and let Jim in. Jim had been roaming the town looking for shelter and tried squatting in an abandoned looking apartment complex. There he found that the building contained several murdered families some succumbing to gunshots but the majority having met their end to fire and suffocation. Jim had decided to make his way to the station to tell police what happened and met trouble on the way. He described getting stabbed by a man wearing a trench coat with long dark hair. Despite the injuries, Jim could move surprisingly well and seemed to ignore the pain. Jim insisted that the man had spared him on the condition he deliver a message. "What message?" Tatum asked. Jim beckoned him to come closer. Tatum leaned in and Jim whispered, "Tell them. Tell them that Genocide is coming closer." The following events were a blur. Jim had concealed the knife he was stabbed with. He stabbed Tatum 4 times in the chest and wrestled his shockgun away. Using Tatum as a shield, Jim engaged everyone in the lobby. Jim wasn't himself. He was stronger. He was faster. He was tactical. He would stun an officer in place only to stab them and use their as a body shield. No one could get a clear shot without hitting a colleague. Gracia watched the scene unfold. In minutes Jim had acquired a magnum from the holster of one of his victims. In seconds 3 officers had their heads exploded. The magnum rounds coated the walls red with those they hit and stained the clothes of those they missed. Gracia felt fear rising in her chest. She calmed herself and tried to think. She saw the bodies on the ground. The blood. She saw how dismissively Jim stepped over them. Like they were nothing. Like trash. She saw the man firing erratically into groups of people, not so much to kill but as to cause panic. That's it! As Gracia contemplated her next move it hit her. She was knocked backwards and landed on the ground. She weakly clutched her chest. Her breathing grew shallow. Jim mad his way deeper into the station. The officers were retreating from their standoff. Jim stepped over her body and saw red staining her uniform. Just another casualty. He moved on. At this point the civilians began panicking. Everyone gave up trying to save their allies and fired blindly at the madman. "Don't shoot the messenger," Jim laughed as he stripped his latest meat shield of an automatic rifle. Detective Evans took cover behind an overturned desk. To his left Larry struggled to light a cigar. "You still think this is a cakewalk?" Evans shouted firing 2 quick shots from his gun before ducking back down. Lary lost hold of his lighter and it clattered on the ground." Crap." He reached for it and looked in the corner of the room. A mirror. He looked at it for what seemed like ages and his smirk returned " Y'know that mex'n gal with the short hair. Where is she? I didn't see her get shot." Evans glanced a peak at Jim spraying lead in all directions. Behind him was a corpse. Evans blinked. It seemed to be getting closer. Its her. Gracia painstakingly inched her way into Jim's blind spot. She was roughly 6 feet away from him. Flanking him seemed like a brilliant idea but waiting idly by for the right moment as the people around her died filled her with anger. Worse still, she had to steal a blood soaked shirt from one of the deceased officers to keep up the facade. Inching ever so steadily she mad it within 3 feet of Jim. She reached behind her belt and unclipped a pair of handcuffs. Screams could be heard as more people were hit. Gracia couldn't wait any longer. Fluidly she got to her feet and rushed Jim. She kicked the back of his knee causing him to stumble as she put the handcuffs on him. Figuratively. The handcuffs were around Jim's neck. She yanked him back causing his gun to drop. "You don't know what you're doing." Jim spat. "We all need to accept it. The end of days is upon us. Death rides his horse through these forsaken lands. We must serve or be sacrificed in turn. Accept it!"He elbowed Gracia in the ribs causing her to let go. He spun around and lunged at her. She landed on her back, Jim steadily choking her. Gracia thought fast. She couldn't struggle. Jim was too strong. She delivered a precise chop to the center of Jim's neck which was exposed. Jim lurched back to catch his breath. A clean shot. A bullet pierced through Jim's back. Weakened, Gracia rolled him over and began punching him repeatedly using the handcuffs as brass knuckles. The sound of Jim's skull cracking echoed through the station. This would go on for nearly 20 seconds before Gracia stopped, checked his pulse, confirmed Jim was still alive, then finally put the cuffs on Jim's wrists.
Click. Bodies are wrapped and moved to a makeshift storage room. Click. The available weapons are gathered and redistributed. Click. Officers are assigned to sniping positions on neighboring buildings. Click. Police cruisers circle the lot outside. Click. In the holding cell, Jim opens his eyes. Click. Lary flicks his lighter. Click. Gracia sips coffee from a paper cup. Click. Shells hit the ground at the feet of Genocide. Click. Genocide walks outside a cafe and looks at the station in the distance. Click. Lary clicks his lighter.
"All ya'll gon' fall," Jim ranted." You can't drain the ocean. You can't put out the sun. Evil will always exist. That there Genocide is proof . I saw him. Saw myself within his eyes. Saw the evil in me that I could no longer try to hide. He taught me to embrace the darkness within. Its in all of us begging to be let out. Can you hear it!" Lary clicked his lighter and got up from his chair. He grabbed a cup of liquor from another officer mid sip and walked over to Jim. He doused it on Jim, the liquid stinging his open wounds. Jim yelped. Across the station, radios blurred to life. Several of their lookouts on the outside had been killed. "He's gon' get ya," Jim smiled imitating Lary's signature grin. "Genocide! Genocide! Genocide!" The other inmates saw the chance to irritate Lary and joined in all shouting in unison,"Ge-No-Cide! Ge-No-Cide! Ge-No-Cide!" The chanting grew louder. Unbearable. They invoked upon the name of the beast, and so it came.
Genocide is upon us. A wave of dread spread across the officers. They could feel its presence. Gracia knew the sensation. The awful aura that the other killers gave off. This was different. Far more oppressive. She struggled to breathe as the air got colder. Her instincts screamed for her to run. She could only imagine what the others were going through. Its time. Across the lot Genocide stood. A siren blared over the intercom. "Everyone get into positions!" Evans yelled. Wayne finished setting the last of the c4 near the station entrance. "That's the last of them. Have remote triggers set around all the major hallways. I'll be in the security room ready to pull the switch." Wayne acted as an explosives expert. His job was to detonate bombs placed throughout the station to slow down Genocide should it enter the building. He would stay in the security room, monitoring the cameras and giving real time updates on the officers' positions. From the holding cell, inmates chanted for Genocide. Lary got off his phone" That bastard mixed us up. How did we not notice?" Evans asked what he meant. Lary, dumbfounded, said that most of the town was already dead. Genocide had broken his usual pattern. He went on a killing spree across a defenseless town BEFORE attacking the police station. They had let everyone down. The people they swore to protect. This Genocide was a monster, but he was still a man. Capable of learning from his past actions. Planning. Adapting. It wasn't in his style to stealthily kill his victims or even use a silencer on any of his guns, but an exception had been made for tonight. An exception that would cost them. Gracia was stationed on the second floor. She peered out the window. Her heart skipped a beat. Two cruisers made slow donuts patrolling the lot and standing unmoving between them was a man all in black. Gracia called in to Wayne asking if he saw anything outside. Wayne said the monitors were all clear then checked again. He cursed. He noticed small details were off. The cameras showing the outside of the station were wrong. Sure they showed the same scenery and weather but cars passed by on screen too frequently for a dead town. Too many to make sense for the quarantine they had set in place. Wayne concluded that the cameras had been hacked. Different prerecorded footage was being shown on the live feed to misdirect them. Gracia saw the man look up at her. A light rain started to fall. The officers patrolling outside were contacted. From the holding cells, inmates called for genocide.
2024.05.14 04:54 Shineyy_8416 Sombra is Annoying and That's Okay
Yes, Sombra is the most hated character in OW and for good reason. Her character design is meant to be annoying at best and hair-pulling at its worst.
She's an assassin with soft CC, out of combat invisibility and essentially an omni-directional dash.
Alot of players find her annoying in all roles. Supports get focused and harassed, DPS get ganked and forced off highground, and Tanks get their defensive abilities and some ults cancelled or prevented.
And, in my opinion, that is okay.
Her kit is frustrating when executed well, but I don't believe its out of reason. Yes, if you throw out the words "Infinite Stealth" or "Silence+Burst Damage" than alot of people start lighting on fire.
But that stealth is only used to reposition, she isnt killing you while invisible and as of later seasons, isnt hacking you while keeping invis either. And staying in stealth indefinetly is actually detrimental to her since she's essentially making the game a 4v5 for her team. Also, spychecking exists.
As my argument though, Sombra plays a critical role in teaching players the importance of awareness and tracking, and how valuable information truly is. Keeping tabs enemy locations, positioning in hard to approach areas, and avoiding bad habits like tunnel vision are all lessons alot of players need to learn in order to improve.
And Sombra emphasizes that more than any character in the game because she wants your attention and wants to keep you confused and upset while she messes up your gameplans.
Other characters do this too to varying extremes. Reaper, Tracer, Wrecking Ball, Lúcio, and Genji all want to approach from off angles quickly to catch people off guard. And the way you deal with those characters is keeping your team aware and focused. Peel for yourself and your teammates, expect incoming abilities like Death Blossom or Piledrive, and ping those flankers if you catch a glimpse of them nearby and chase them down if you have an advantage.
It's not the most fun thing to do sometimes, but it's part of the work that needs to be done to get better at the game. And you're free to hate Sombra sure, but I don't think her kit is a problem to be fixed by devs but to be adapted to by the community.
submitted by Shineyy_8416 to Overwatch [link] [comments]
She's an assassin with soft CC, out of combat invisibility and essentially an omni-directional dash.
Alot of players find her annoying in all roles. Supports get focused and harassed, DPS get ganked and forced off highground, and Tanks get their defensive abilities and some ults cancelled or prevented.
And, in my opinion, that is okay.
Her kit is frustrating when executed well, but I don't believe its out of reason. Yes, if you throw out the words "Infinite Stealth" or "Silence+Burst Damage" than alot of people start lighting on fire.
But that stealth is only used to reposition, she isnt killing you while invisible and as of later seasons, isnt hacking you while keeping invis either. And staying in stealth indefinetly is actually detrimental to her since she's essentially making the game a 4v5 for her team. Also, spychecking exists.
As my argument though, Sombra plays a critical role in teaching players the importance of awareness and tracking, and how valuable information truly is. Keeping tabs enemy locations, positioning in hard to approach areas, and avoiding bad habits like tunnel vision are all lessons alot of players need to learn in order to improve.
And Sombra emphasizes that more than any character in the game because she wants your attention and wants to keep you confused and upset while she messes up your gameplans.
Other characters do this too to varying extremes. Reaper, Tracer, Wrecking Ball, Lúcio, and Genji all want to approach from off angles quickly to catch people off guard. And the way you deal with those characters is keeping your team aware and focused. Peel for yourself and your teammates, expect incoming abilities like Death Blossom or Piledrive, and ping those flankers if you catch a glimpse of them nearby and chase them down if you have an advantage.
It's not the most fun thing to do sometimes, but it's part of the work that needs to be done to get better at the game. And you're free to hate Sombra sure, but I don't think her kit is a problem to be fixed by devs but to be adapted to by the community.
2024.05.13 21:30 AgentIceX Weapon Balance Changes. Share your ideas.
Thank you for taking the time to read my weapon balance essay.
Yes, I feel just as silly typing this as you probably felt reading it.
But every good essay deserves a silly intro. So here we go.
The following is a collection of ideas I want to throw at the wall.
I hope that they are largely reasonable and more importantly, fun.
Even hope that someone at Arrowhead will read this.
And I want to see what you guys, the community, think.
**Discord Polls**
More of them! More! More!
Arrowhead, you receive such a loud clash of undiscernible noise from the community most of the time;
Why not pick out anything and everything that catches your eye and put it to a vote to find out what the community actually thinks?
It quickly lets people hear about the various ideas they likely miss in the chaos of the discord; Allowing them to discuss the ideas and vote.
Doing more polls will allow you to quickly filter through the bad ideas.
**All weapons**
**Better scopes**
We call the current scopes, ACOG.jpg scopes, not because they're good.
Specifically, the futuristic scopes with glowing bits and extra noise.
The scopes just suck trying to see targets through.
The only good sight in the game currently is the LiberatoSickle.
Please, consider real life scopes and pick stuff you guys would like to actually shoot with.
And add ladder sights to low velocity guns.
**Bolt Catch on empty mag**
Please Install bolt catches and bolt releases on anything it makes sense to.
Charging the rifle after every empty mag delays our ability to spread democracy.
Not every gun needs this, but it would be a nice little bonus to underperforming ARs.
**Energy Weapons**
Give energy weapons fire modes.
For all the beam energy weapons, give them an overclock option.
Something like +50% damage but +100% heat generation.
Or a burst beam with cooldown period; Something like the Halo spartan laser, and have it boost the penetration by one level.
Tweak the numbers to something that's fun and a reason to toggle between modes.
**Assault Rifles**
There are several issues and numbers that could and should be brought up.
But the biggest crime I would like to point out is,
A single shot from an AR does the same damage as a *single pellet* from a shotgun shell.
AR-23P does 45 damage, A single pellet from the punisher does 45 damage.
That's a travesty. Someone is staring far too hard at spreadsheets.
**MP-98 Knight**
Two things, please add it to the SC store from time to time. ( if agreements allow you to of/c)
And, if you can allow everyone to spend SC to get it, give it tier 3 penetration (medium armor pen).
So there is a reason to take it vs the other smgs.
Say the super scientists got the idea from an old earth TV show about a big circular stargate.
Tweak the fire-rate and magazine carry count to balance of course.
**SG-8S Slugger**
"The slugger is too good of a DMR so we nerfed the shotguns trademark stagger", what?
Just revert all the changes on it. Give back the stagger and demolition force.
Then increase the damage fall off a little bit. (and make the diligence a little better)
**R-63 Diligence**
Give the diligence 2 or 3 round burst fire or something.
**R-36 Eruptor**
shrapnel is the guns thing. so give it back.
Shrapnel killing chargers? Shrapnel killing helldivers randomly?
Reduce the shrapnel damage. That's what should have happened.
It did like 150 or 200 damage per shrapnel and it generated up to 20 of them.
That's 4000 damage. what.
Dropping shrapnel damage to 50 and boosting the base explosive to 200 should be a fair compromise.
tweak from there.
**LAS-5 Scythe**
Give the scythe the same scope as the Sickle. That's really the biggest thing it needs.
And the overclock fire-mode would be nice or the burst charge that boosts penetration would be better.
**PLAS-101 Purifier**
This thing is just sad.
Ok, so lets make this fun. Give it 3 firing modes. you select what the max charge is from the weapon wheel.
Each charge level takes one more ammo. and at level 2 or 3 charge, make it the first primary to penetrate tier 4 armor or heavy or whatever you want to call it. Also, at a full charge, or 'overcharge' have it blast the user backwards rag-dolling them.
Example numbers----
Base shot about 60 rate of fire, projectile: 3 pen 150 damage + 50 explosive damage, 1 ammo use.
Slower than the scorcher, but that's fine. The charge shots are what we're here for.
Charge shot +1 second to charge, projectile: 4 pen 200 damage + 150 explosive damage, 2 ammo use.
It can now penetrate Scout Walkers, and do more damage vs medium targets. has a little AoE.
Overcharge shot +3 seconds to charge, Projectile: 4 pen 250 damage + 250 explosive damage, 3 ammo use.
It now has a punisher sized AoE. And more comically, blasts the user backwards rag-dolling them. Probably make it so the user just falls backwards on his butt.
Now that sounds like a fun gun. Tweak the numbers of course as they're only given for rough examples. Give it a nice boom.
**RS-422 Railgun**
Just make it a primary
Tweak/nerf the numbers a little bit.
Likely nerf down to tier 4 pen for safe shots, and if you kept unsafe, probably let it have tier 5 pen.
Making this a primary would add to the variety of builds and stratagems that people will bring.
Extend the safety period/grace period of full charge; Add the charge gauge to the 3rd person hud cursor, And give it the liberators scope.
This would be such a nice boost to the die hard fans of the gun. And be a second primary with tier 4 pen. (and maybe the first with tier 5?)
**LAS-99 Quasar Cannon**
"Due to the ongoing war effort I.C.E production for the Quasar has worsened causing full charge shots to now take 15 seconds to recover from."
"So the techs have decided to hack in half power shots for half the cooldown recovery time."
Add a fire-mode that's half the damage for half cooldown time.
So we have at least one anti-tank weapon that does some sort of different damage.
**LAS-98 Laser Cannon**
Please, give this overclock or spartan laser.
I'm voting for the halo spartan burst laser firing mode.
Charge it for 3 seconds then you get a nice strong PEW. Give that tier 5 pen and make it the first support weapon at tier 5 pen!
So it's not quite at the level of anti-tank, but gives more options to deal with enemy heavy spam in high tiers!
Would give bug laser enjoyer's a option to fight titans with, and allow other options when dealing with several other common heavy enemy types.
Ideally, hopefully, more things are just fun. Numbers can always be tweaked. But more fun fire-modes will go a long way.
submitted by AgentIceX to Helldivers [link] [comments]
Yes, I feel just as silly typing this as you probably felt reading it.
But every good essay deserves a silly intro. So here we go.
The following is a collection of ideas I want to throw at the wall.
I hope that they are largely reasonable and more importantly, fun.
Even hope that someone at Arrowhead will read this.
And I want to see what you guys, the community, think.
**Discord Polls**
More of them! More! More!
Arrowhead, you receive such a loud clash of undiscernible noise from the community most of the time;
Why not pick out anything and everything that catches your eye and put it to a vote to find out what the community actually thinks?
It quickly lets people hear about the various ideas they likely miss in the chaos of the discord; Allowing them to discuss the ideas and vote.
Doing more polls will allow you to quickly filter through the bad ideas.
**All weapons**
**Better scopes**
We call the current scopes, ACOG.jpg scopes, not because they're good.
Specifically, the futuristic scopes with glowing bits and extra noise.
The scopes just suck trying to see targets through.
The only good sight in the game currently is the LiberatoSickle.
Please, consider real life scopes and pick stuff you guys would like to actually shoot with.
And add ladder sights to low velocity guns.
**Bolt Catch on empty mag**
Please Install bolt catches and bolt releases on anything it makes sense to.
Charging the rifle after every empty mag delays our ability to spread democracy.
Not every gun needs this, but it would be a nice little bonus to underperforming ARs.
**Energy Weapons**
Give energy weapons fire modes.
For all the beam energy weapons, give them an overclock option.
Something like +50% damage but +100% heat generation.
Or a burst beam with cooldown period; Something like the Halo spartan laser, and have it boost the penetration by one level.
Tweak the numbers to something that's fun and a reason to toggle between modes.
**Assault Rifles**
There are several issues and numbers that could and should be brought up.
But the biggest crime I would like to point out is,
A single shot from an AR does the same damage as a *single pellet* from a shotgun shell.
AR-23P does 45 damage, A single pellet from the punisher does 45 damage.
That's a travesty. Someone is staring far too hard at spreadsheets.
**MP-98 Knight**
Two things, please add it to the SC store from time to time. ( if agreements allow you to of/c)
And, if you can allow everyone to spend SC to get it, give it tier 3 penetration (medium armor pen).
So there is a reason to take it vs the other smgs.
Say the super scientists got the idea from an old earth TV show about a big circular stargate.
Tweak the fire-rate and magazine carry count to balance of course.
**SG-8S Slugger**
"The slugger is too good of a DMR so we nerfed the shotguns trademark stagger", what?
Just revert all the changes on it. Give back the stagger and demolition force.
Then increase the damage fall off a little bit. (and make the diligence a little better)
**R-63 Diligence**
Give the diligence 2 or 3 round burst fire or something.
**R-36 Eruptor**
shrapnel is the guns thing. so give it back.
Shrapnel killing chargers? Shrapnel killing helldivers randomly?
Reduce the shrapnel damage. That's what should have happened.
It did like 150 or 200 damage per shrapnel and it generated up to 20 of them.
That's 4000 damage. what.
Dropping shrapnel damage to 50 and boosting the base explosive to 200 should be a fair compromise.
tweak from there.
**LAS-5 Scythe**
Give the scythe the same scope as the Sickle. That's really the biggest thing it needs.
And the overclock fire-mode would be nice or the burst charge that boosts penetration would be better.
**PLAS-101 Purifier**
This thing is just sad.
Ok, so lets make this fun. Give it 3 firing modes. you select what the max charge is from the weapon wheel.
Each charge level takes one more ammo. and at level 2 or 3 charge, make it the first primary to penetrate tier 4 armor or heavy or whatever you want to call it. Also, at a full charge, or 'overcharge' have it blast the user backwards rag-dolling them.
Example numbers----
Base shot about 60 rate of fire, projectile: 3 pen 150 damage + 50 explosive damage, 1 ammo use.
Slower than the scorcher, but that's fine. The charge shots are what we're here for.
Charge shot +1 second to charge, projectile: 4 pen 200 damage + 150 explosive damage, 2 ammo use.
It can now penetrate Scout Walkers, and do more damage vs medium targets. has a little AoE.
Overcharge shot +3 seconds to charge, Projectile: 4 pen 250 damage + 250 explosive damage, 3 ammo use.
It now has a punisher sized AoE. And more comically, blasts the user backwards rag-dolling them. Probably make it so the user just falls backwards on his butt.
Now that sounds like a fun gun. Tweak the numbers of course as they're only given for rough examples. Give it a nice boom.
**RS-422 Railgun**
Just make it a primary
Tweak/nerf the numbers a little bit.
Likely nerf down to tier 4 pen for safe shots, and if you kept unsafe, probably let it have tier 5 pen.
Making this a primary would add to the variety of builds and stratagems that people will bring.
Extend the safety period/grace period of full charge; Add the charge gauge to the 3rd person hud cursor, And give it the liberators scope.
This would be such a nice boost to the die hard fans of the gun. And be a second primary with tier 4 pen. (and maybe the first with tier 5?)
**LAS-99 Quasar Cannon**
"Due to the ongoing war effort I.C.E production for the Quasar has worsened causing full charge shots to now take 15 seconds to recover from."
"So the techs have decided to hack in half power shots for half the cooldown recovery time."
Add a fire-mode that's half the damage for half cooldown time.
So we have at least one anti-tank weapon that does some sort of different damage.
**LAS-98 Laser Cannon**
Please, give this overclock or spartan laser.
I'm voting for the halo spartan burst laser firing mode.
Charge it for 3 seconds then you get a nice strong PEW. Give that tier 5 pen and make it the first support weapon at tier 5 pen!
So it's not quite at the level of anti-tank, but gives more options to deal with enemy heavy spam in high tiers!
Would give bug laser enjoyer's a option to fight titans with, and allow other options when dealing with several other common heavy enemy types.
Ideally, hopefully, more things are just fun. Numbers can always be tweaked. But more fun fire-modes will go a long way.
2024.05.13 19:25 Relative-Obscurity My friends and I went on a hike to watch a Total Eclipse. Only two of us made it back alive.
Link to original nosleep post:
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/1akrt76/my_friends_and_i_went_on_a_hike_to_watch_a_total/
It was August 21st, 2017, and the future was...
...Dark. Literally dark.
That day, the first total solar eclipse visible from anywhere in the mainland United States since February, 1979, which some media outlets were calling “The Great American Eclipse,” was due to cast its shadow over America.
And it just so happened, that my city, and the surrounding area, would be in the path of totality that afternoon, putting us in its umbra - its darkest shadow, and allowing us to witness the moon completely block the sun and reveal its corona.
"You packed light." My best friend Josh pointed out to me that morning, gesturing to my obviously lightly packed backpack, as we walked from the parking lot to the trail.
"Don't these things only last a few minutes?" I replied, having only barely researched the lunar event.
But why should I have? After all, it had been Josh's brilliant idea, to propose to his girlfriend, Allison, during the total eclipse, and bring me along for the ride to take photographs, aka third wheel.
As a city guy, I never had any desire to go hiking in the wilderness, and had been dreading the trip ever since he told me about it. But Josh had been my best friend since elementary school, and had done more than enough favors for me over the years. So, I just swallowed my pride and went along with it.
"They're saying about two and half minutes from where we are, specifically." Allison corrected.
She's always been the best kind of nerd. I thought to myself, enviously.
But I tried not to make eye contact with her. There was too much history there, too many emotions. And on top of all that, she and Josh were about to get engaged.
"Got it." I replied, staring down at my feet, as I trudged along the rocky path, my boots crunching into the ground with every step.
What were you thinking? Agreeing to this? I internally kicked myself, immediately regretting the decision.
"You okay?" Josh asked. "You were pretty quiet in the car."
"Yeah, I'm okay, thanks."
I was not okay. But what was I supposed to say? "I'm still in love with your future wife?"
Let's take these photos and get the fuck out of here. I thought to myself, before sneaking a few shots of Josh and Allison holding hands, as they walked ahead of me, careful to not make Allison suspicious, and while also throwing up in my mouth a little bit.
—
But when we finally made it to the summit of the hill, where Josh had chosen to host the two-pronged occasion, I was pleasantly surprised to discover, that I was not third wheeling after all.
There, sitting side by side in beach chairs, each with a beer in hand, were Bob and Cara, a married couple that Josh and I had befriended at a bar one night a couple months prior, and, in a very short amount of time, had completely infiltrated our friend group.
"There they are!" Bob called out.
"Eclipse party!" Cara yelled out even louder.
"At least I have other people to talk to." I mumbled to myself, before turning to Josh and asking, "You didn't tell me Bob and Cara were joining?"
"Thought I'd surprise you." He said, with a cheeky smile.
"Theme of the day." I replied sarcastically, before immediately heading for the cooler, opening it, and reaching into its deepest depths, for the coldest beer I could possibly find.
But after I removed a bottle, and opened it with my keychain, I looked down, and happened to notice, that my finger was bleeding.
I didn't think much of it, so I just held up my bloody finger to the group. "Hey, anybody got a bandage?"
"Already?" Josh teased, shaking his head, "We can't take you anywhere."
"Take him anywhere?" Allison chimed in, "I blame Bob and Cara. What kind of weapons are you keeping down there, at the bottom of your cooler?"
The married couple simply sat there in silence for a moment, before turning to each other, then back at us, and bursting out laughing.
"Got us!" Cara said.
"Busted!" Bob added, before Josh tossed me the first aid kit and pivoted the conversation.
"Speaking of Bob and Cara. I just want to shout them out, for coming up with the eclipse party idea in the first place."
Everyone raised their beers, and cheered, as I wrapped a bandage around my finger.
Fucking Bob and Cara. I thought to myself, as I faked a smile and raised my bottle.
—
A few hours, and a lot of beers later, we were all sitting at the top of the hill, doing as friends do, and bantering about absolutely nothing of actual significance, when Bob looked down at his watch, and made an announcement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the moment we've all been waiting for has finally arrived!" He declared, slurring his words a bit.
"Everyone, get your sunglasses!" Cara added, as she stumbled over to her backpack, and removed five pairs of cardboard sunglasses, specifically made for looking at eclipses, or so they claimed in the ads.
We all put them on...
...And looked up at the sky...
...But nothing happened.
Then, Josh lowered his sunglasses and started winking profusely at me.
"Oh, right!" I said, before reaching for my camera and pointing it at Josh, just in time to catch him getting down on one knee, removing a ring from his pocket, and holding it out to Allison.
At first, she was completely confused, and looked around at everyone, as if to ask, "What's going on?"
But then Josh uttered the words, "Allison, you're the love of my life... The apple of my eye... The moon to my sun."
Allison, Bob, and Cara all chuckled at the timeliness of the joke a bit, but I couldn't bring myself to laugh at it. I just stood there, hiding behind my camera, snapping photos, hoping it would end quickly.
Just get it over with already.
"Will you marry me?" Josh asked, to a dramatic pause, before Allison finally replied.
"Oh my! Yes! Of course I will!"
And like that, Josh placed the ring on her finger, hopped up, and the two kissed, still wearing their sunglasses, just as the moon began to eclipse the sun.
I snapped one last photo, which I'll admit, was pretty beautiful, before I couldn't bear to take it anymore, and had to put my camera down.
And that's when, things got...
...Weird.
As the moon continued to pass in front of the sun, the sky grew darker and darker, and, in combination with the eclipse sunglasses that I was still wearing, caused me to lose visibility.
Suddenly, I felt what I assumed was a raindrop...
...Before realizing that rain would have been impossible, given the clear visibility of the eclipse that day.
I removed my sunglasses, and whipped around, to see what the droplet could possibly have been, only to witness a gruesome sight...
...Bob, dimly lit, being hacked away at, by a shadowy figure holding a strange object...
...Blood spraying everywhere.
That's not rain.
It must have happened so fast, that Bob never even had a chance to scream.
But Cara, on the other hand, had a chance.
She immediately began wailing and crying at the top of her lungs, so loud that Josh and Allison were jarred out of their loving embrace, and began calling out to her.
"Cara?" Josh yelled out.
"What's wrong?" Allison added.
But then...
...Cara went silent.
I tried to will myself to warn Josh and Allison, to shout out, "Run!" but I was so paralyzed with fear, that I couldn't bring myself to utter the word.
So, I just followed my own advice, and darted away as fast as I could, knowing that whoever had just killed Bob, and seemingly now Cara, was close by.
But before I could get far, I heard what sounded like Josh grappling with the shadowy figure, and immediately stopped in my tracks.
I turned around, and tried to make out what was happening, against the sky, but it was still pretty dark, and the only thing I could see, was the glowing corona of the sun encircling the moon, the total eclipse now at its peak.
"Get away from her!" Josh cried out, before I saw what looked like him charge at the man.
But something must have gone terribly wrong, as the next, and last word, I ever heard out of Josh's mouth, was "No!"
As the moon began to move out of the total eclipse, and pass by the sun, enough light began to pour in, that I was able to see my best friend's body tumble to the ground.
And then...
...Silence...
...Until I heard Allison begin to scream.
"Help! Help!"
Now able to see her, dimly lit, and cowering in fear on the ground a few feet away from me, I jumped in front of her.
For a brief moment, we locked eyes, in what felt like four parts horror, one part longing, before we both looked back and saw, now fully illuminated....
...The slayer that had just wreaked havoc on our party, his face and body, covered in blood, his hands gripping what I now saw... was a scythe.
A fucking scythe!?
He slowly began to approach us, weapon in hand...
...Until he got a few feet away...
...And suddenly stopped, to look up at the moon...
...But it was gone.
In the moment that followed, he appeared to process what that meant, and what to do next, before...
...He simply turned around and walked away.
Allison and I sat there on the ground, shaking violently, as we clung to each other, paralyzed with fear, and watched him drift away into the distance...
...Until he was gone.
When we eventually conjured enough energy to stand up, we hobbled back to the parking lot, and drove Josh's car, to the closest police station we could find, remaining silent almost the entire time.
And after finally arrived at the precinct, it took us a good while to bring ourselves to speak, and describe to the authorities, the atrocities that had occurred in the shadow of the eclipse that day.
The cops immediately raced to the trail, and recovered the bodies of Bob, Cara, and Josh, but the man with the scythe...
...The eclipse killer, as the detectives joked...
...Was never found, left to roam the world and live amongst us, likely waiting to strike when the next eclipse arrives.
And as for Allison and I... while the events of that day could just as well have bonded us, or been taken as a sign that we were meant to be together, we never talked about it again, and slowly drifted away...
...Just as the moon had drifted away from the sun on the afternoon of August 21st, 2017.
Still to this day, whenever I hear that an eclipse of any sort is coming, I think back to that hike, and worry for those who dare to venture out of their homes to observe it.
While, I, however... stay the fuck inside.
submitted by Relative-Obscurity to relativeobscurity [link] [comments]
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/1akrt76/my_friends_and_i_went_on_a_hike_to_watch_a_total/
It was August 21st, 2017, and the future was...
...Dark. Literally dark.
That day, the first total solar eclipse visible from anywhere in the mainland United States since February, 1979, which some media outlets were calling “The Great American Eclipse,” was due to cast its shadow over America.
And it just so happened, that my city, and the surrounding area, would be in the path of totality that afternoon, putting us in its umbra - its darkest shadow, and allowing us to witness the moon completely block the sun and reveal its corona.
"You packed light." My best friend Josh pointed out to me that morning, gesturing to my obviously lightly packed backpack, as we walked from the parking lot to the trail.
"Don't these things only last a few minutes?" I replied, having only barely researched the lunar event.
But why should I have? After all, it had been Josh's brilliant idea, to propose to his girlfriend, Allison, during the total eclipse, and bring me along for the ride to take photographs, aka third wheel.
As a city guy, I never had any desire to go hiking in the wilderness, and had been dreading the trip ever since he told me about it. But Josh had been my best friend since elementary school, and had done more than enough favors for me over the years. So, I just swallowed my pride and went along with it.
"They're saying about two and half minutes from where we are, specifically." Allison corrected.
She's always been the best kind of nerd. I thought to myself, enviously.
But I tried not to make eye contact with her. There was too much history there, too many emotions. And on top of all that, she and Josh were about to get engaged.
"Got it." I replied, staring down at my feet, as I trudged along the rocky path, my boots crunching into the ground with every step.
What were you thinking? Agreeing to this? I internally kicked myself, immediately regretting the decision.
"You okay?" Josh asked. "You were pretty quiet in the car."
"Yeah, I'm okay, thanks."
I was not okay. But what was I supposed to say? "I'm still in love with your future wife?"
Let's take these photos and get the fuck out of here. I thought to myself, before sneaking a few shots of Josh and Allison holding hands, as they walked ahead of me, careful to not make Allison suspicious, and while also throwing up in my mouth a little bit.
—
But when we finally made it to the summit of the hill, where Josh had chosen to host the two-pronged occasion, I was pleasantly surprised to discover, that I was not third wheeling after all.
There, sitting side by side in beach chairs, each with a beer in hand, were Bob and Cara, a married couple that Josh and I had befriended at a bar one night a couple months prior, and, in a very short amount of time, had completely infiltrated our friend group.
"There they are!" Bob called out.
"Eclipse party!" Cara yelled out even louder.
"At least I have other people to talk to." I mumbled to myself, before turning to Josh and asking, "You didn't tell me Bob and Cara were joining?"
"Thought I'd surprise you." He said, with a cheeky smile.
"Theme of the day." I replied sarcastically, before immediately heading for the cooler, opening it, and reaching into its deepest depths, for the coldest beer I could possibly find.
But after I removed a bottle, and opened it with my keychain, I looked down, and happened to notice, that my finger was bleeding.
I didn't think much of it, so I just held up my bloody finger to the group. "Hey, anybody got a bandage?"
"Already?" Josh teased, shaking his head, "We can't take you anywhere."
"Take him anywhere?" Allison chimed in, "I blame Bob and Cara. What kind of weapons are you keeping down there, at the bottom of your cooler?"
The married couple simply sat there in silence for a moment, before turning to each other, then back at us, and bursting out laughing.
"Got us!" Cara said.
"Busted!" Bob added, before Josh tossed me the first aid kit and pivoted the conversation.
"Speaking of Bob and Cara. I just want to shout them out, for coming up with the eclipse party idea in the first place."
Everyone raised their beers, and cheered, as I wrapped a bandage around my finger.
Fucking Bob and Cara. I thought to myself, as I faked a smile and raised my bottle.
—
A few hours, and a lot of beers later, we were all sitting at the top of the hill, doing as friends do, and bantering about absolutely nothing of actual significance, when Bob looked down at his watch, and made an announcement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the moment we've all been waiting for has finally arrived!" He declared, slurring his words a bit.
"Everyone, get your sunglasses!" Cara added, as she stumbled over to her backpack, and removed five pairs of cardboard sunglasses, specifically made for looking at eclipses, or so they claimed in the ads.
We all put them on...
...And looked up at the sky...
...But nothing happened.
Then, Josh lowered his sunglasses and started winking profusely at me.
"Oh, right!" I said, before reaching for my camera and pointing it at Josh, just in time to catch him getting down on one knee, removing a ring from his pocket, and holding it out to Allison.
At first, she was completely confused, and looked around at everyone, as if to ask, "What's going on?"
But then Josh uttered the words, "Allison, you're the love of my life... The apple of my eye... The moon to my sun."
Allison, Bob, and Cara all chuckled at the timeliness of the joke a bit, but I couldn't bring myself to laugh at it. I just stood there, hiding behind my camera, snapping photos, hoping it would end quickly.
Just get it over with already.
"Will you marry me?" Josh asked, to a dramatic pause, before Allison finally replied.
"Oh my! Yes! Of course I will!"
And like that, Josh placed the ring on her finger, hopped up, and the two kissed, still wearing their sunglasses, just as the moon began to eclipse the sun.
I snapped one last photo, which I'll admit, was pretty beautiful, before I couldn't bear to take it anymore, and had to put my camera down.
And that's when, things got...
...Weird.
As the moon continued to pass in front of the sun, the sky grew darker and darker, and, in combination with the eclipse sunglasses that I was still wearing, caused me to lose visibility.
Suddenly, I felt what I assumed was a raindrop...
...Before realizing that rain would have been impossible, given the clear visibility of the eclipse that day.
I removed my sunglasses, and whipped around, to see what the droplet could possibly have been, only to witness a gruesome sight...
...Bob, dimly lit, being hacked away at, by a shadowy figure holding a strange object...
...Blood spraying everywhere.
That's not rain.
It must have happened so fast, that Bob never even had a chance to scream.
But Cara, on the other hand, had a chance.
She immediately began wailing and crying at the top of her lungs, so loud that Josh and Allison were jarred out of their loving embrace, and began calling out to her.
"Cara?" Josh yelled out.
"What's wrong?" Allison added.
But then...
...Cara went silent.
I tried to will myself to warn Josh and Allison, to shout out, "Run!" but I was so paralyzed with fear, that I couldn't bring myself to utter the word.
So, I just followed my own advice, and darted away as fast as I could, knowing that whoever had just killed Bob, and seemingly now Cara, was close by.
But before I could get far, I heard what sounded like Josh grappling with the shadowy figure, and immediately stopped in my tracks.
I turned around, and tried to make out what was happening, against the sky, but it was still pretty dark, and the only thing I could see, was the glowing corona of the sun encircling the moon, the total eclipse now at its peak.
"Get away from her!" Josh cried out, before I saw what looked like him charge at the man.
But something must have gone terribly wrong, as the next, and last word, I ever heard out of Josh's mouth, was "No!"
As the moon began to move out of the total eclipse, and pass by the sun, enough light began to pour in, that I was able to see my best friend's body tumble to the ground.
And then...
...Silence...
...Until I heard Allison begin to scream.
"Help! Help!"
Now able to see her, dimly lit, and cowering in fear on the ground a few feet away from me, I jumped in front of her.
For a brief moment, we locked eyes, in what felt like four parts horror, one part longing, before we both looked back and saw, now fully illuminated....
...The slayer that had just wreaked havoc on our party, his face and body, covered in blood, his hands gripping what I now saw... was a scythe.
A fucking scythe!?
He slowly began to approach us, weapon in hand...
...Until he got a few feet away...
...And suddenly stopped, to look up at the moon...
...But it was gone.
In the moment that followed, he appeared to process what that meant, and what to do next, before...
...He simply turned around and walked away.
Allison and I sat there on the ground, shaking violently, as we clung to each other, paralyzed with fear, and watched him drift away into the distance...
...Until he was gone.
When we eventually conjured enough energy to stand up, we hobbled back to the parking lot, and drove Josh's car, to the closest police station we could find, remaining silent almost the entire time.
And after finally arrived at the precinct, it took us a good while to bring ourselves to speak, and describe to the authorities, the atrocities that had occurred in the shadow of the eclipse that day.
The cops immediately raced to the trail, and recovered the bodies of Bob, Cara, and Josh, but the man with the scythe...
...The eclipse killer, as the detectives joked...
...Was never found, left to roam the world and live amongst us, likely waiting to strike when the next eclipse arrives.
And as for Allison and I... while the events of that day could just as well have bonded us, or been taken as a sign that we were meant to be together, we never talked about it again, and slowly drifted away...
...Just as the moon had drifted away from the sun on the afternoon of August 21st, 2017.
Still to this day, whenever I hear that an eclipse of any sort is coming, I think back to that hike, and worry for those who dare to venture out of their homes to observe it.
While, I, however... stay the fuck inside.
2024.05.13 14:37 UsualAcanthaceae8775 What if their was a Ben 10 5v5 hero shooter like marvel rivals (Part 2)
The extended roster:
Wildmutt Role: DPS Play Style: Agile and ferocious melee attacker with heightened senses. Notable Moves: Savage Pounce: Leaps at an enemy, dealing damage and stunning them. Sensory Track: Detects hidden enemies within a certain radius. Razor Claws: Swift melee attacks that cause bleeding damage over time. Super Attack: Feral Frenzy - Enters a heightened state, increasing attack speed and damage for a short duration.
Grey Matter Role: Support Play Style: Strategic support with abilities to hack and control the battlefield. Notable Moves: Nano Heal: Deploys nanobots that heal allies over time. Tech Override: Temporarily hacks enemy gadgets, turning them against their owners. Intellect Boost: Enhances an ally’s abilities, reducing cooldowns and increasing effectiveness. Super Attack: Mastermind Machination - Creates a field that boosts allies’ intelligence, allowing for faster ability usage and strategic advantages.
Ripjaws Role: Tank Play Style: Amphibious brawler with strong underwater capabilities. Notable Moves: Aqua Slam: Jumps and crashes down, creating a shockwave in water. Bite Lock: Grabs an enemy with his jaws, immobilizing them briefly. Whirlpool: Creates a vortex in water, pulling enemies towards the center. Super Attack: Tsunami Strike - Summons a massive wave, knocking back and damaging all enemies in its path.
Cannonbolt Role: Tank Play Style: Rolling juggernaut with high-impact collision attacks. Notable Moves: Rollout: Turns into a ball and rolls over enemies, dealing damage. Impact Crater: Slams into the ground, creating an area of effect damage. Rebound Rampage: Bounces off surfaces, increasing speed and damage with each hit. Super Attack: Meteor Ball - Launches into the air and crashes down as a giant ball, causing massive area damage.
Wildvine Role: Support Play Style: Nature-based support with crowd control and area denial. Notable Moves: Thorn Barrage: Shoots thorns that damage and slow enemies. Vine Grasp: Extends vines to pull enemies or allies to safety. Seed Bomb: Plants a seed that grows into a trap, ensnaring enemies. Super Attack: Jungle Jamboree - Summons a forest of vines that entangle and damage enemies while healing allies.
Spitter Role: DPS Play Style: Ranged attacker with debilitating slime attacks. Notable Moves: Slime Shot: Spits slime that slows and damages enemies. Goo Grenade: Hurls a blob that explodes, covering a wide area with sticky goo. Mucus Bubble: Encases himself in a bubble, gaining temporary invulnerability. Super Attack: Acid Rain - Spews a cloud of corrosive rain over enemies, causing severe damage over time.
Buzzshock Role: DPS Play Style: Electric skirmisher with high mobility and shocking attacks. Notable Moves: Volt Dash: Dashes through enemies, electrocuting them. Chain Lightning: Strikes an enemy with lightning that jumps to nearby targets. Static Trap: Leaves an electrified trap that stuns the first enemy that touches it. Super Attack: Power Surge - Overloads the area with electricity, continuously damaging all enemies nearby.
Blitzwolfer Role: DPS Play Style: Lycanthropic fighter with howling attacks and enhanced agility. Notable Moves: Sonic Howl: Unleashes a howl that damages and disorients enemies. Lunar Leap: Jumps great distances, pouncing on enemies from afar. Claw Rend: Swift claw strikes that can bleed enemies over time. Super Attack: Moon Frenzy - Gains increased speed and attack power under a simulated full moon.
Upchuck Role: Support Play Style: Consumptive support that can absorb and redirect energy. Notable Moves: Energy Ingest: Absorbs energy attacks, converting them into health or ammo. Gastro Blast: Fires a concentrated beam of absorbed energy. Matter Munch: Devours objects to create barriers or restore health. Super Attack: Digestive Overload - Releases a massive energy explosion around him, using stored power.
Ditto Role: Support Play Style: Multiplicative support with cloning abilities to confuse and outnumber enemies. Notable Moves: Clone Swarm: Creates duplicates that attack and distract enemies. Mirror Maneuver: All clones mimic Ditto’s actions, dealing damage in unison. Replicate Retreat: Sacrifices a clone to teleport to its location, evading danger. Super Attack: Multiplicity Mayhem - Floods the battlefield with clones, overwhelming enemies with sheer numbers.
Waybig Role: Tank Play Style: Colossal tank with massive strength and area control. Notable Moves: Giant Stomp: Causes a shockwave that knocks back enemies. Cosmic Beam: Fires a powerful beam from his eyes, dealing heavy damage. Towering Defense: Uses his size to shield allies and block paths. Super Attack: Galactic Slam - Lifts a huge chunk of the ground and throws it, crushing enemies beneath.
Arctiguana Role: DPS Play Style: Frosty sharpshooter with chilling ranged attacks. Notable Moves: Ice Beam: Shoots a beam that can freeze enemies in place. Frostbite Grenade: Throws a grenade that explodes into a freezing mist. Blizzard Breath: Exhales a cold wind that slows and damages enemies. Super Attack: Avalanche Ambush - Summons a wave of ice and snow that buries enemies, dealing massive damage.
Chromastone Role: DPS Play Style: Ranged combatant with energy absorption and redirection. Notable Moves: Prism Blast: Fires a beam that can split into multiple rays upon hitting surfaces. Energy Shield: Absorbs incoming energy attacks to charge his next Prism Blast. Radiant Rush: Charges forward enveloped in a protective energy aura. Super Attack: Spectrum Surge - Unleashes a full-spectrum energy wave in all directions, dealing massive damage.
Alien X Role: Support Play Style: Omnipotent support with reality-altering powers. Notable Moves: Cosmic Restore: Heals all allies within a certain radius. Event Rewrite: Reverses the last few seconds of gameplay for all players, except Alien X. Existential Shift: Temporarily increases the abilities of all allies. Super Attack: Universal Rift - Creates a zone where all enemy actions are delayed by several seconds.
Nanomech Role: DPS Play Style: Tiny, evasive striker with the ability to infiltrate and sabotage. Notable Moves: Micro Missiles: Launches a barrage of tiny homing missiles. Infiltrate: Shrinks down to enter and disable enemy equipment temporarily. Nano Swarm: Releases a cloud of nanobots that damage and disorient enemies. Super Attack: Molecular Disassembly - Causes enemy gear to malfunction and fall apart for a short time.
Fasttrack Role: DPS Play Style: Speedster with rapid strikes and quick evasions. Notable Moves: Speed Slash: Dashes through enemies, dealing damage to all in his path. Blur Dodge: Evades attacks with superhuman speed, leaving afterimages. Momentum Punch: Delivers a punch that gains power the longer he runs before striking. Super Attack: Velocity Vortex - Creates a tornado by running in circles, pulling in and damaging enemies.
Eatle Role: Tank Play Style: Durable brawler that consumes materials to boost his powers. Notable Moves: Bite Crush: Devours objects to gain temporary health and armor. Shrapnel Spit: Spits out digested material as high-velocity projectiles. Ravage Rampage: Gains increased size and strength after consuming large objects. Super Attack: Digestive Explosion - Erupts with energy after consuming a significant amount of material, damaging nearby enemies.
Gravattack Role: Tank Play Style: Gravity manipulator with area control and enemy displacement. Notable Moves: Gravity Well: Creates a field that pulls enemies towards the center. Orbit Slam: Levitates enemies before slamming them back to the ground. Mass Increase: Temporarily becomes immovable and reduces damage taken. Super Attack: Black Hole Barrage - Summons miniature black holes that travel across the battlefield, devouring anything in their path.
Crashhopper Role: DPS Play Style: Agile assaulter with powerful leaps and crushing landings. Notable Moves: Leap Smash: Jumps high and crashes down, damaging enemies where he lands. Hopper Blitz: Rapidly hops towards enemies, kicking them with powerful legs. Bound Escape: Uses his legs to leap out of harm’s way, avoiding damage. Super Attack: Seismic Stomp - Unleashes a series of ground-shaking hops that create shockwaves, knocking back enemies.
Walkatrout Role: Support Play Style: Evasive support with distraction and escape tactics. Notable Moves: Slippery Dodge: Evades attacks with unexpected movements. Bait and Switch: Creates a decoy to distract enemies while he escapes. Helping Hand: Quickly aids allies, providing them with speed boosts or temporary shields. Super Attack: Fish Out of Water - Flops around wildly, confusing enemies and making them miss their attacks.
Molestache Role: Support Play Style: Quirky fighter with mustache-based abilities for control and defense. Notable Moves: Whisker Whip: Lashes out with his mustache, striking multiple enemies. Stache Shield: Uses his mustache to form a protective barrier. Hairnet Trap: Entangles enemies in a strong, hair-like net. Super Attack: Mustache Maelstrom - Spins rapidly, extending his mustache to create a tornado that pulls in and damages enemies.
The Worst Role: Tank Play Style: Indestructible tank that can absorb a tremendous amount of damage. Notable Moves: Unbreakable Stance: Temporarily reduces all incoming damage to minimal levels. Aggravate: Taunts enemies, forcing them to attack him over his allies. Endure: Regenerates health based on the damage taken in the last few seconds. Super Attack: Ultimate Sacrifice - Draws all enemy fire to himself for a short duration, becoming invulnerable and then releasing a retaliatory shockwave.
Kickin Hawk Role: DPS Play Style: Martial artist with rapid strikes and acrobatic maneuvers. Notable Moves: Talon Tear: Delivers a flurry of slashes with his talon-like feet. Wing Rush: Uses his wings for a burst of speed, enabling quick strikes. Feather Frenzy: Spins with outstretched wings, hitting all nearby enemies. Super Attack: Hawk Hurricane - Executes a high-speed spinning attack that damages and knocks back all surrounding enemies.
Toepick Role: Support Play Style: Fear-inducing support that debilitates enemies with terror. Notable Moves: Ghastly Gaze: Reveals his face, scaring enemies and causing them to flee. Creep Out: Emits an aura that reduces enemy attack speed and accuracy. Face of Fear: Targets an enemy, stunning them with fright. Super Attack: Nightmare Nova - Unleashes a wave of terror, causing all enemies to experience hallucinations and become disoriented.
Astrodactyl Role: DPS Play Style: Aerial attacker with high mobility and precision strikes from above. Notable Moves: Energy Whip: Lashes out with a whip made of pure energy, which can hit multiple targets in a line. Jet Flight: Uses his jetpack to fly quickly across the battlefield, avoiding ground-based hazards. Meteor Dive: Soars high, then dives down at an enemy, dealing significant damage upon impact. Super Attack: Starfall Barrage - Unleashes a series of energy blasts from the sky, targeting multiple enemies or focusing on a single target for increased damage.
Bullfrag Role: Tank Play Style: Tough and resilient front-line brawler with crowd control abilities. Notable Moves: Frog Slam: Leaps high and crashes down, creating a shockwave that stuns nearby enemies. Tongue Lash: Extends his tongue to pull enemies closer or disrupt their actions. Amphibious Assault: Charges through enemies, pushing them aside and dealing damage. Super Attack: Ribbit Rumble - Grows in size and gains increased health and strength, allowing him to knock back enemies with each attack and resist incoming damage.
submitted by UsualAcanthaceae8775 to Ben10 [link] [comments]
Wildmutt Role: DPS Play Style: Agile and ferocious melee attacker with heightened senses. Notable Moves: Savage Pounce: Leaps at an enemy, dealing damage and stunning them. Sensory Track: Detects hidden enemies within a certain radius. Razor Claws: Swift melee attacks that cause bleeding damage over time. Super Attack: Feral Frenzy - Enters a heightened state, increasing attack speed and damage for a short duration.
Grey Matter Role: Support Play Style: Strategic support with abilities to hack and control the battlefield. Notable Moves: Nano Heal: Deploys nanobots that heal allies over time. Tech Override: Temporarily hacks enemy gadgets, turning them against their owners. Intellect Boost: Enhances an ally’s abilities, reducing cooldowns and increasing effectiveness. Super Attack: Mastermind Machination - Creates a field that boosts allies’ intelligence, allowing for faster ability usage and strategic advantages.
Ripjaws Role: Tank Play Style: Amphibious brawler with strong underwater capabilities. Notable Moves: Aqua Slam: Jumps and crashes down, creating a shockwave in water. Bite Lock: Grabs an enemy with his jaws, immobilizing them briefly. Whirlpool: Creates a vortex in water, pulling enemies towards the center. Super Attack: Tsunami Strike - Summons a massive wave, knocking back and damaging all enemies in its path.
Cannonbolt Role: Tank Play Style: Rolling juggernaut with high-impact collision attacks. Notable Moves: Rollout: Turns into a ball and rolls over enemies, dealing damage. Impact Crater: Slams into the ground, creating an area of effect damage. Rebound Rampage: Bounces off surfaces, increasing speed and damage with each hit. Super Attack: Meteor Ball - Launches into the air and crashes down as a giant ball, causing massive area damage.
Wildvine Role: Support Play Style: Nature-based support with crowd control and area denial. Notable Moves: Thorn Barrage: Shoots thorns that damage and slow enemies. Vine Grasp: Extends vines to pull enemies or allies to safety. Seed Bomb: Plants a seed that grows into a trap, ensnaring enemies. Super Attack: Jungle Jamboree - Summons a forest of vines that entangle and damage enemies while healing allies.
Spitter Role: DPS Play Style: Ranged attacker with debilitating slime attacks. Notable Moves: Slime Shot: Spits slime that slows and damages enemies. Goo Grenade: Hurls a blob that explodes, covering a wide area with sticky goo. Mucus Bubble: Encases himself in a bubble, gaining temporary invulnerability. Super Attack: Acid Rain - Spews a cloud of corrosive rain over enemies, causing severe damage over time.
Buzzshock Role: DPS Play Style: Electric skirmisher with high mobility and shocking attacks. Notable Moves: Volt Dash: Dashes through enemies, electrocuting them. Chain Lightning: Strikes an enemy with lightning that jumps to nearby targets. Static Trap: Leaves an electrified trap that stuns the first enemy that touches it. Super Attack: Power Surge - Overloads the area with electricity, continuously damaging all enemies nearby.
Blitzwolfer Role: DPS Play Style: Lycanthropic fighter with howling attacks and enhanced agility. Notable Moves: Sonic Howl: Unleashes a howl that damages and disorients enemies. Lunar Leap: Jumps great distances, pouncing on enemies from afar. Claw Rend: Swift claw strikes that can bleed enemies over time. Super Attack: Moon Frenzy - Gains increased speed and attack power under a simulated full moon.
Upchuck Role: Support Play Style: Consumptive support that can absorb and redirect energy. Notable Moves: Energy Ingest: Absorbs energy attacks, converting them into health or ammo. Gastro Blast: Fires a concentrated beam of absorbed energy. Matter Munch: Devours objects to create barriers or restore health. Super Attack: Digestive Overload - Releases a massive energy explosion around him, using stored power.
Ditto Role: Support Play Style: Multiplicative support with cloning abilities to confuse and outnumber enemies. Notable Moves: Clone Swarm: Creates duplicates that attack and distract enemies. Mirror Maneuver: All clones mimic Ditto’s actions, dealing damage in unison. Replicate Retreat: Sacrifices a clone to teleport to its location, evading danger. Super Attack: Multiplicity Mayhem - Floods the battlefield with clones, overwhelming enemies with sheer numbers.
Waybig Role: Tank Play Style: Colossal tank with massive strength and area control. Notable Moves: Giant Stomp: Causes a shockwave that knocks back enemies. Cosmic Beam: Fires a powerful beam from his eyes, dealing heavy damage. Towering Defense: Uses his size to shield allies and block paths. Super Attack: Galactic Slam - Lifts a huge chunk of the ground and throws it, crushing enemies beneath.
Arctiguana Role: DPS Play Style: Frosty sharpshooter with chilling ranged attacks. Notable Moves: Ice Beam: Shoots a beam that can freeze enemies in place. Frostbite Grenade: Throws a grenade that explodes into a freezing mist. Blizzard Breath: Exhales a cold wind that slows and damages enemies. Super Attack: Avalanche Ambush - Summons a wave of ice and snow that buries enemies, dealing massive damage.
Chromastone Role: DPS Play Style: Ranged combatant with energy absorption and redirection. Notable Moves: Prism Blast: Fires a beam that can split into multiple rays upon hitting surfaces. Energy Shield: Absorbs incoming energy attacks to charge his next Prism Blast. Radiant Rush: Charges forward enveloped in a protective energy aura. Super Attack: Spectrum Surge - Unleashes a full-spectrum energy wave in all directions, dealing massive damage.
Alien X Role: Support Play Style: Omnipotent support with reality-altering powers. Notable Moves: Cosmic Restore: Heals all allies within a certain radius. Event Rewrite: Reverses the last few seconds of gameplay for all players, except Alien X. Existential Shift: Temporarily increases the abilities of all allies. Super Attack: Universal Rift - Creates a zone where all enemy actions are delayed by several seconds.
Nanomech Role: DPS Play Style: Tiny, evasive striker with the ability to infiltrate and sabotage. Notable Moves: Micro Missiles: Launches a barrage of tiny homing missiles. Infiltrate: Shrinks down to enter and disable enemy equipment temporarily. Nano Swarm: Releases a cloud of nanobots that damage and disorient enemies. Super Attack: Molecular Disassembly - Causes enemy gear to malfunction and fall apart for a short time.
Fasttrack Role: DPS Play Style: Speedster with rapid strikes and quick evasions. Notable Moves: Speed Slash: Dashes through enemies, dealing damage to all in his path. Blur Dodge: Evades attacks with superhuman speed, leaving afterimages. Momentum Punch: Delivers a punch that gains power the longer he runs before striking. Super Attack: Velocity Vortex - Creates a tornado by running in circles, pulling in and damaging enemies.
Eatle Role: Tank Play Style: Durable brawler that consumes materials to boost his powers. Notable Moves: Bite Crush: Devours objects to gain temporary health and armor. Shrapnel Spit: Spits out digested material as high-velocity projectiles. Ravage Rampage: Gains increased size and strength after consuming large objects. Super Attack: Digestive Explosion - Erupts with energy after consuming a significant amount of material, damaging nearby enemies.
Gravattack Role: Tank Play Style: Gravity manipulator with area control and enemy displacement. Notable Moves: Gravity Well: Creates a field that pulls enemies towards the center. Orbit Slam: Levitates enemies before slamming them back to the ground. Mass Increase: Temporarily becomes immovable and reduces damage taken. Super Attack: Black Hole Barrage - Summons miniature black holes that travel across the battlefield, devouring anything in their path.
Crashhopper Role: DPS Play Style: Agile assaulter with powerful leaps and crushing landings. Notable Moves: Leap Smash: Jumps high and crashes down, damaging enemies where he lands. Hopper Blitz: Rapidly hops towards enemies, kicking them with powerful legs. Bound Escape: Uses his legs to leap out of harm’s way, avoiding damage. Super Attack: Seismic Stomp - Unleashes a series of ground-shaking hops that create shockwaves, knocking back enemies.
Walkatrout Role: Support Play Style: Evasive support with distraction and escape tactics. Notable Moves: Slippery Dodge: Evades attacks with unexpected movements. Bait and Switch: Creates a decoy to distract enemies while he escapes. Helping Hand: Quickly aids allies, providing them with speed boosts or temporary shields. Super Attack: Fish Out of Water - Flops around wildly, confusing enemies and making them miss their attacks.
Molestache Role: Support Play Style: Quirky fighter with mustache-based abilities for control and defense. Notable Moves: Whisker Whip: Lashes out with his mustache, striking multiple enemies. Stache Shield: Uses his mustache to form a protective barrier. Hairnet Trap: Entangles enemies in a strong, hair-like net. Super Attack: Mustache Maelstrom - Spins rapidly, extending his mustache to create a tornado that pulls in and damages enemies.
The Worst Role: Tank Play Style: Indestructible tank that can absorb a tremendous amount of damage. Notable Moves: Unbreakable Stance: Temporarily reduces all incoming damage to minimal levels. Aggravate: Taunts enemies, forcing them to attack him over his allies. Endure: Regenerates health based on the damage taken in the last few seconds. Super Attack: Ultimate Sacrifice - Draws all enemy fire to himself for a short duration, becoming invulnerable and then releasing a retaliatory shockwave.
Kickin Hawk Role: DPS Play Style: Martial artist with rapid strikes and acrobatic maneuvers. Notable Moves: Talon Tear: Delivers a flurry of slashes with his talon-like feet. Wing Rush: Uses his wings for a burst of speed, enabling quick strikes. Feather Frenzy: Spins with outstretched wings, hitting all nearby enemies. Super Attack: Hawk Hurricane - Executes a high-speed spinning attack that damages and knocks back all surrounding enemies.
Toepick Role: Support Play Style: Fear-inducing support that debilitates enemies with terror. Notable Moves: Ghastly Gaze: Reveals his face, scaring enemies and causing them to flee. Creep Out: Emits an aura that reduces enemy attack speed and accuracy. Face of Fear: Targets an enemy, stunning them with fright. Super Attack: Nightmare Nova - Unleashes a wave of terror, causing all enemies to experience hallucinations and become disoriented.
Astrodactyl Role: DPS Play Style: Aerial attacker with high mobility and precision strikes from above. Notable Moves: Energy Whip: Lashes out with a whip made of pure energy, which can hit multiple targets in a line. Jet Flight: Uses his jetpack to fly quickly across the battlefield, avoiding ground-based hazards. Meteor Dive: Soars high, then dives down at an enemy, dealing significant damage upon impact. Super Attack: Starfall Barrage - Unleashes a series of energy blasts from the sky, targeting multiple enemies or focusing on a single target for increased damage.
Bullfrag Role: Tank Play Style: Tough and resilient front-line brawler with crowd control abilities. Notable Moves: Frog Slam: Leaps high and crashes down, creating a shockwave that stuns nearby enemies. Tongue Lash: Extends his tongue to pull enemies closer or disrupt their actions. Amphibious Assault: Charges through enemies, pushing them aside and dealing damage. Super Attack: Ribbit Rumble - Grows in size and gains increased health and strength, allowing him to knock back enemies with each attack and resist incoming damage.
2024.05.13 06:47 za_dorov Have you ever had that feeling that absolutely everything you do and think is pre-digitated? Programmed? I think my friend accidentally found proof.
A few days ago, I received a file from a journalist friend who teaches at a private university in Montevideo. I known this person for years now and the exchange with her on our countless bar nights basically made me want to try to study journalism. After I started my career we became even closer and we shared concerns about the evolution of information, social media and the infamous cerebral callosity we acquired to endure the tragedy.
My friend, let's call her Valeria, was part of a public competition to accompany a minor scientific expedition to the Uruguayan Antarctic base. Her thesis was about investigating how information reception behaves in remote and isolated areas.
I barely read it , but basically tries to show that information circulates and is received in a particular way in these circumstances by a group of unfamiliar people living under extreme climatic and isolation conditions, having as an example, life in submarines and in military bases in Siberia. The Antarctic base gave her the chance to observe some of her postulates up close.
Finally, she was chosen and traveled with this scientific group in a commercial flight Montevideo - Santiago de Chile to later arrive at Punta Arenas and fly to the Antarctic base.
The last communication I had with her before she sent me the almost 90 photographic captures of the Journal, was on March 15, 2024.
We talked over the phone about how the weather was in Montevideo, that it does not stop raining and the cars are practically floating on the streets. She told me that the transport that was going to take them back was having mechanical problems and they would probably have to order spare parts for the plane from Punta Arenas. Then She told me that it is freaking cold down there and his colleagues are all very boring. Nobody has whisky for the evenings. We laughed about that part because I told her to bring at least one bottle of Grappa in her purse.
Before saying goodbye, she told me they had spotted some old metal structures south of the base. The soldiers told her that it was safe to go near that part so she was going to explore them. It wasn't there when they first arrived and that the recent and atypical heat wave probably must have exposed it. I told her to be careful and we said goodbyes.
Three days later I received an email. “Valeria shared a file with you.” As I start to see what it was about she calls me.
“Mauro? MAURO!, can you hear me?” She said in a nervous and excited voice.
“I can barely hear you, what happened?”I asked half asleep, while still lying on my bed.
“Listen to me carefully, don't talk, just listen” I could tell by her agitation that she was walking fast or maybe running. The creaking footsteps in the snow could be heard in the background. in the distance, a catastrophe-type siren was blaring.
“Are you alright? What happened? What's that noise?” I said, now sitting on the edge of my bed.
“I sent you a file. Transfer it to a flash drive, delete history and reset your cell phone, the computer and your email address. I'll explain everything later, it'll be worth it.”
“What? What are you talking about Vale?, what for? Tell me what's going on - I started to yell at her, in slide panic.
“Listen, I found something that is not supposed to exist. In the diary he explains everything. I'm going back to the base, I think someone is following me, I set off an alarm or something. Save that file for me until I get there and remember that... “
There were two loud booms and the sound of water invading the transmission. A choked bubbling and cracking sound reminded me of ice collapsing. My friend had fallen into the water, in Antarctica.
“HEY, are you OK?! What happened?!” - I kept screaming hysterically until the call was cut off.
I looked at my cell phone for a second. My hands were shaking, I tried calling several times but the phone went dead. I looked at the compressed file. I jumped up and ran to the dining room furniture, frantically looking for a white flash drive that had to be in a drawer somewhere. I couldn't find it, so I went back to my desk. I pulled the drawer so hard that it came off the rail and fell to the floor. I started to dig through my belongings on the floor, coins, papers, cards, nothing.
I thought, I struggled to remember where I had fucking put it. Finally I saw my backpack peeking out from behind the desk chair, I jumped on it and in the second small pocket from the inside, there was a cheap white 16G flash drive. I put it in the pc, downloaded the file directly there, took it out and fabric restored the entire system on the computer. I do the same with my cell phone as Valeria said.
At the time I didn't even question if those measures really prevented me from being tracked, and the idea that that was the reason made panic run through my body like lightning. Sitting on the floor of my room next to the mess, my body was numb with tension. After a few seconds, I rebooted my cell phone to try to call Lucia, her sister.
“Hello?”
“Lucia, it's that you? I think something bad happened to Vale, I hear her over the phone as if she fell into the water, and some rumbling. I don't know what I heard, I think she got into some trouble or some place she shouldn't have been - I realized that I was mumble and not saying anything clear. For some reason, I didn't mention the file.
“It can't be Mauro, I just spoke to her on the phone. She was at the airport in Santiago de Chile at the boarding lounge, we talked for about half an hour, she told me she was bringing a fancy bourbon to share and…”
I stopped listening, it didn't make sense, how could it be? what the fuck is going on!
“Mauro, are you ok? Is something wrong? it's too early, are you sure you didn't dream it?”
“Did you talk to her? half an hour ago? But...,” I exclaimed without being able to hide my confusion.
“Are you... sure it was her?”
“Yes, of course you moron, it's my sister! Did you smoke pot again on an empty stomach?”
“No, you're right, nevermind, thanks Lucia, talk to you soon.” I ended the call without letting her say goodbye.
Had I dreamt about it? I erased everything now, how will I know if I dreamt it? I hesitated absurdly.
This is surreal, I thought to myself as I looked at the flash drive in my hand. I refocused my attention and went to the attic looking for my brother's old laptop he left me before going to live in Spain. It was practically useless, but it was enough to see the file. I turned it on, waited for the decrepit Windows XP to load, and put the flashdisk in, opened the compressed folder and found two files.
“LabNotes.pdf”
“PersonalDiary.pdf”
I decided to open the journal first. From what I interpreted from the loading order of the screenshots, after reading it, I opened the image of the last page.
I transcribe as is.
Day 243 of the 2nd mission 10: 40 am. March 12, 2019.
I am the head researcher of the Psychological Area at the UN Antarctic base; I'm currently assigned to Project Sisyphus categorized as the highest classified rank.
This is going to sound crazy, but the person living with my family is my clone.
It still surprises me when I say it out loud, but after being able to replicate the brain-muscular history (a perfect copy of our memory) of any person and having mastered replicating every cell of our bodies at any age, it was only a matter of time before the development of social biotechnology would emerge. Now and by worldwide agreement, as a complete secret.
There is absolutely no shame or a shred of ethics in what we do, there is no longer any constraint on what we can do to the subjects for the sake of research. That haunts me every day.
It all went to shit so fast, I doubt anyone will come to our rescue. The protocol says so, the base in the face of an imminent security risk will erase itself. The structure was designed to collapse methodically following a protocol of incineration and sinking. The immediate perimeter has underwater mines that make the ice collapse almost imperceptibly, but deadly to anyone who tries to leave.
No one can escape from the base, neither the research staff nor the subjects. Our place in the world is already taken.
I only hope that this journal along with my lab notes will be found at some point. I managed to construct a small insulating gasket for it so I trust it will survive in case this part of the building collapses as well.
Please use this data to let the world know what happened here and don't let perversity define us once again.
To my family: I love you and miss you every minute.
B.
At the exact moment I ended the reading I received a video call that made me jump with fright, it is...
Valeria.
With my pulse shaking, I answered the call.
“Hi you! The flight was delayed, can you believe it? This one is absolutely in my top three, worst trips of my life. I'm really hungry and everything is so expensive here. What are you up to? Tell me something, please, I'm soooo bored!”
I looked at her with confusion and I couldn't manage to pronounce words. When I was about to modulate an answer she interrupted me.
“What's the matter Mauro?, are you on pause? Is the signal OK? HELLO! Can you hear me? Can you see me?” She started to walk through the boarding lounge looking for better signal
“Yes yes, Valeria I can hear you.”
She laughed and looked at me with a face between sensual and serious, and continued.
“Do you miss me?” while raising the phone jokingly as she typically does in her selfie pose.
“Valeria, don't you remember calling me earlier today?”
“I? called you? Nop. Why? Ah! By the way, did you know there are penguins in Tierra del Fuego? I would have liked to go and see them.” She continued his verbose conversation in a carefree tone, with her typical hand gestures and playing with his hair.
“Well, at last!” She interrupted herself and shouted, jumping up from her chair.
“We are being called to board, see you in a couple hours!” She said goodbye with a smiling sonority, and began to walk towards the boarding gate.
But at the last second, before ending the call, her gesture changed. She looked directly at the camera with a hardened and emotionless face and almost mechanically, she whispered.
“(I'm going to retrieve that diary).”
My stomach dropped to the floor and I could feel as if my blood was running cold with fear. I could not shake the awful and eerie feeling that this person, who was returning, whom I had never in my life called by her full name, was not my friend.
So, the next couple of hours I put everything in to transcribe the rest of important passages of the diary. Something was compelling me to do it, i can't explain it, Some mix between moral duty, and morbid curiosity. Here is my selection of it.
Lab notes. day 96 of 1st mission 08:00 am December 22, 2016.
Subject JON X012:
First physical assessments: Normal, alert and inquisitive, exhibits some alteration to screens.
We place 100 cc of sedative in room air. The subject attentively follows the narrative of scenario B5 “The last mission”.
The subject responds positively to the premises of the story, where he is asked to address an audience threatened by a natural disaster, convincing them to choose a certain path out of the city.
He offers to collaborate but fails to articulate the message with the power to overcome the simulation.
We resort to pouring 125cc of concentrated Psilocybin into the air as stipulated in the protocol sheet.
The vocal frequency and body language reading receptors in the observation room are activated. The subject manages to formulate a series of premises articulately and with discursive power, circulating around the observation room.
Successful reaction.
We move on to the next stage.
Case is filed under the label “Jobs Project.”
Diary entry: Day 96 of the 1st mission 21:30 pm. December 22, 2016.
Today they transferred subject JON X0012 for psychological evaluation, several in the lab were very anxious about this arrival. I was never the religious type, but I can understand why. Truth be told,
I always imagined Jesus would be taller.
*********
Day 106 of the 1st mission 08:00 am January 02, 2017
Today we received a new lab assistant for the night shift. Much needed as I was covering these shifts myself and am really burned out. The underground operates at full power at those hours, the hum of the machinery becomes unbearable. This must be why the rooms have an insulating structure.
********
Day 112 of the 1st mission 19:00 pm January 08, 2017.
The new integration is not very bright. He labeled the transcripts wrong again yesterday and doesn't seem to fully understand the importance of these. I'm going to have to go through the whole method with him again. I don't have much patience lately, it's not his fault, he seems like a nice guy and it's real that I need a second of confidence. Better train him from now on. Maybe start a sketch of a short explanatory document.
*******
Small introductory guide.
When the subjects conclude the incubation and breeding process (pages 19 to 52 of the manual), that is to say, that they have at least remembered speech and with it, depending on the time in which they lived, reading and writing, they generally begin to perceive themselves. Just before situational curiosity is when the psychology department comes into action. Either to run the “stand by” simulation or the main tests.
In each subject's file is the target of their cloning, the era in which they lived, and the recommended scenarios to trigger the desired response. If the file has X amount on the cover, this corresponds to the generation of the subject, whether it is the first or 10th time it is incubated.
Generally, it takes between 2 and 5 attempts to generate the correct simulation, and administer the appropriate drugs.
It took 5 attempts to come up with the correct amount of methamphetamine that subject AH X005 (Hitler) needed to function in the scenario, as the correct amount bordered on overdose.
Simulations are much easier since the implementation of multisensor AI. We managed to generate almost any scenario including temperature, smells, lights and sounds. We tried not to use familiar ones, as human smells are impossible to replicate. We found this out in a complicated way. We tried to recreate a conversation between RR subject X003 (Reagan) and his mother, but he recognized the fakery by the absence of body odor. His mind collapsed and we had to move him to the Underground. The people in Area C (Private Clients) almost lost a very large Chinese account.
After calibrating the subject, we ran both psychological and behavioral tests, scanned retinas, analyzed blood, as well as vocal and body language. But what has really yielded surprising results are the free interviews. It is amazing what some minds are capable of with the right environmental and chemical stimulation. That's why transcription is vital (!!)
Our area develops BC (Behavioral Algorithms) which are then bought by the private sector, and some government agencies.
To give you some examples: Twitter was an idea of subject JO X008 (Orwell).
Bots in social media and the use of big data was an idea of JG X002 (Goebbels) and KM X014`s worst nightmare (Marx) was bought by Amazon.
It is an arduous process and the success rate is low, but when we achieve the goal per subject, well, these results are a mein part of the latest revolutions of mankind.
So follow the lab rules, never refer to subjects by their actual historical name, and always remember, they are assets, not people.
***********
Day 117 of the 1st mission 16:30 am January 12, 2017.
Today is a rest day all over area D. I miss many things from the old world that I thought I would never miss, taking a bus, standing in line with strangers, and today I miss Sundays. We only have one on the month. So as usual we gather in the rest area to listen to a liberated jukebox that tries to lighten the mood. I know, right? Why I wrote about this “Saturday” photocopy, well besides the same nostalgic drunks, I was approached by a person I didn't recognize.
From what I understood he was a rehabilitated alcoholic, maybe that's why I didn't see him on “Saturdays”. He must be in his 50's, he was portly and wore thick black-rimmed glasses, he seemed to have a slight limp, I noticed it when he went to refill my beer.
I am a very reserved person and find it hard to talk to people. Truth be told, I've lost the desire to talk to people here. What can you actualy fucking talk about here, if it's not about the same thing. Everything revolves around work and some inter-area gossip, which never escalates much.
But yesterday was Clara's birthday and to hide the remorse and sadness of only having shared with her the first 3 years of her life, I had a few too many beers.
We chatted about banal aspects of life in isolation, and the things we miss. For him it was going to the stadium to watch soccer with his grandchildren. I think it was loneliness and nostalgia that brought us together that night.
His name was Sigfried, I don't know if I spelled it right, but it was clearly Nordic, i notice because of some of the words he mixed up with English. He works as the underground level security manager. We all know that it is one of the most restricted areas and what we have learned in these almost 10 years in the project, is that the more restricted, the less questions you should ask.
But that day, I think I felt the urge to hurt myself, to go off the rails, so I asked what we all suspected but no one knew for sure. I asked about the blenders. I wish I hadn't.
************
Day 126 of the 1st mission 08:00 am January 21, 2017.
I almost can't express how furious I am today, but I'm going to try because if I don't, I'm going to punch the new assistant in the face. He has nothing to do with this, he's just mildly irritating.
Anyway, in Genetic Mapping or area A, they approved the incubation of another Anomaly. It seems to be an express request from a major shareholder and there is not much to say. Anomalies are very risky to reproduce, nature is wise, and for some reason it placed them in history moments where they had their limitations.
It seems that after the crisis of 2010 with “The Russian Devil” it is no longer scary enough. New school morons... If they had been there they wouldn't even dare to think about it. I AM FURIOUS.
The arguments are that this case lived longer, that the clone would be in his 70s, and that he possessed noticeably more “civilized” traits. As if the court of the last Zar had not been somewhat civilized.
Personally I think this is a big mistake. Since the discovery that some people possess unknown DNA components and with the 2010 background, they should draw the line. There are certain things, still beyond our ability to understand. But it is delusional of me to think that there are limits, someday the absence of them will consume us all.
************
Lab notes day 142 of 1st mission 08:00 am February 06, 2017.
Final free interview with JON subject X012
Scenario B-24 or “The Dinner Party” Result: Normal.
Notes: Subject is grateful, positive, docile and hopeful for the future. Offers to cook next time by asking for spices and ingredients of typical Hindu dishes.
The subject is directed to the Underground area.
Attached audio for transcription.
Case is filed under the label “Jobs Project”.
**********
Day 142 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 06, 2017.
Today was the last session with subject JON X012, I managed to extract the last retinal and body language readings, as usual before sending them to Underground level. We ran the dinner scenario, the truth is that is one of the best simulations we have achieved. The subjects are relaxed resulting in the best free interview environment. This one was no exception, I must say I understand the charm of the “messiah” turned out to be quite an entertaining subject. I hope his next generation will be similar.
**********
Day 152 of the 1st mission 19:00 pm February 16, 2017.
I was tasked with the continuous monitoring of subject NT X004. I am not at all happy with this transfer. First of all, I know nothing about area B of engineering and technology. Secondly, I still think this is a really bad idea.
One of the laboratories has been set up with the essential simulation equipment and personnel. Tomorrow we start with the calibration.
**********
Lab notes day 153 of the 1st mission 08:00 am February 17, 2017.
First interview with subject NT X004, we run simulation scenario 54-A, “Signal from another planet.”
Subject is observed to be receptive at first but quickly changes to paranoid. We administer 300cc of MDMA via air, according to protocol.
We introduce the reconstructed figure of a colleague in a cry for help speech.
The Subject laughs and doesn't believe a word, we move to a physical approach plane,
I volunteer myself with a room operator from the engineering area, we show him unfinished plans of an experimental vacuum propulsion engine.
He laughs again and tells us that we are not who we say we are.
We administer 50cc of DMT and move on to the next scenario.
From the screen an astronaut with non-human features sends a distress signal and intergalactic coordinates.
The subject looks thoughtful, reassesses, picks up the blueprints and begins to shout out values and what appears to be mathematical and physical formulas.
Air is charged with percentages of absolute sedation.
Audio recording is attached.
It is filed under the name “Project SpaceX.”
**********
Day 153 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 17, 2017.
I'm not sure what happened today, this is the first time in 10 years that a subject overcame the deception of 3 simulations. We had to place absolute sedation in the air, as risky as we know it is. I recommended that we restart the process from scratch, but it was a resounding no, the client is in a hurry.
I need to get more involved in this case to recalibrate the subject. I don't know if I want to. The words before full sedation still resonate with me. “are you still using DC current? interesting...”
**********
Day 154 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 18, 2017.
Something happened, I don't quite know what. The rooms have an emergency lockdown active. Outside hear security personnel mobilizing. I tried the intercom but it didn't work. The insulation prevents my screams from being heard from the outside. If this goes on another day I'm going to break the lock. I'm going to set my backpack to the bare minimum.
**********
Day 157 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 21, 2017.
Yesterday I heard explosions in the B area. I couldn't take it anymore and broke the lock. Whatever it was I had to go out and see. The corridors were dark, and the underground buzzer went on, at least that worked.
I went right to the north staircase, down the 4 floors in near darkness, the power was failing. The entrance to the underground area was barricaded but I managed to see a figure peeking out from inside as they felt me making noises.
It was Sigfried, he pointed me in the doors direction and I entered through a heavily armored side door. I was surprised by the immensity of this section, it encompassed a large hall below almost all the sectors of the base. In front of us there were 4 large industrial pipes with switches and multiple smaller pipes coming out of their bases. These were repeated like mosaics throughout the area until they disappeared into the distance in the darkness.
Leaning against one of them were 3 officers in formerly white coats and a nearly dead guard bloodied on the floor. Poor guy, his legs were crushed with his flesh in the open. He was lying in a pool of his own blood.
He had a blank stare and was panting, it seemed from the pale of his skin, that his fate was imminent. My asthma began to pound in my chest sharply, so I reached into my bag looking for my inhaler. I told them between visible gasps of bad breath to please tell me what's happened.
One of the doctors had a badge from area B and another from area E which corresponds to bio-armamentistics. The latter burst into tears and said “We deserve it, every one of us, we deserve it”.
I knew the other guy, he is an engineer in area B. I could hear him babbling almost nonsensically about, as why they never thought about it, an issue with electrical power.
He looked at me carefully as if recognizing me and grabbed me tightly by my jacket pulling me close to his face transformed for the panic.
“He let them out, all of them!” but not only that, no no no no... he told them the truth. Nikola fucking Tesla hacked us and told them the truth.”
He began to laugh frantically with a face of absurdity until he burst into a choked cry. At that moment everything went dark. The emergency lights activated, and from far away and getting closer, along with the emergency sirens that began to sound, we heard a large mass of people screaming and running through the corridors outside.
Sigfried looked at me as they started to pound on the shielded door and said.
“We're fucked.”
**************
Day xx of the second mission, month xx of 2017
“()The industrial sounds of spinning blades, the cries for mercy followed by the thunderous, liquid crack, down that big pipe, into the green barrels, with the Monsanto logo, dripped down one side an elongated drop of pink paste ending in the letter E on the chemical label. FERTILIZER.”
**********
After finishing the transcription, my whole body began to want to flee, the walls of my house were tinged with a faint blue light as the cloudy dusk came through the window, the lights turned off by my abstraction at the computer gave way to the dark corridors that began to feel alien. As I gently closed the pc my ears began to ring as if under pressure, my breathing became more present and the vibration of my cell phone interrupted my trance.
A call from the office. It was to tell me that I had a vacation week pending, that by schedule, I had to take it starting today.
Sons of bitches, now they even choose your time off - I thought at first, but at the same time I found the voice on the phone very strange, and to tell the truth, the procedure itself.
The anger turned into confusion that only added to the paranoia. The sounds in the street began to seem erratic, a chaotic and strangely familiar feeling came over me. My senses seemed increasingly acute, and they screamed:
Go away.
I grabbed the old laptop, the flash drive and headed for the bus station. The short trip from my house seemed like a long journey. People on the street looked at me with strange faces, the cell phone kept ringing with unknown numbers on the screen and a strange idea began to formulate in my head that whispered “Them, Valeria is one of Them”.
Already on the platforms I rummaged through my backpack where I confirmed that I had the key to the family beach house in San Luis, 60 km to the east of Montevideo. I turned off my cell phone, got on a bus heading to another and much far away town called Treinta y Tres. Sat near the last seat and slipped my cell phone in my front pocket of the seat in front of me, got off and commented to the driver with a clueless face, “I got confused, I'm going to the coast”.
I almost jumped onto the steps of the correct bus to where I was heading, unable to avoid the gazes of the passengers questioning me for the last minute drop in. I sat in my numbered seat and defragmented in dissociation, trying to understand what I was doing, I was running away, but from what?
The images of the last transcriptions were engraved in my mind, the last paragraph was repeated over and over again making me shake my head from time to time trying to get them away from my thoughts. The road was dark and I lost track of time, the digital clock within sight of the passengers jingling since we left, reading 10:40.
“San Luis Station!” - I heard the guard's shout in low volume.
I staggered to my feet, hurried to get off and with the same impulse I entered the dirt roads.
I zig-zagged through the dark, cold and silent beach town. The moonless night and the smell of the sea calmed me.
When I turned the corner to the gabled beach house of my family, on the steps of the front door lit by a white light, was her. Sitting, waiting for me. I stopped dead in my tracks and a chilling vertigo ran down my torso to my throat. We looked at each other for a short two seconds, until she stopped and started walking in sliding steps towards me, smiling and playing with her hands, crossing and uncrossing her arms. The growing sound of the wind through the trees covered us.
“Darling, how are you? How nice is the summer house, I don't think we ever came here, did we? Is it the one your grandmother left you?”
I felt the adrenaline rushing through my bloodstream, how could such a familiar attitude from such a familiar person transmit such panic to me? I had to answer something.
“Yes, this is it. I came to clear my head for a while, they gave me a few days at work and I wanted to take advantage of it.” I tried to excuse myself with failed dissimulation, since I stuttered in the middle of the words.
“Yes, I know! We arranged it with them, so you can be more relaxed and as a gesture for taking care of the file. Ah! and another thing. I think someone stole your cell phone at the bus station.” She looked at me with a smart-ass smile.
“Anyway, don't worry, they already found it on a bus on the way to “Treinta y tres”. You can get it back later.”
At this point I opened my mouth to ask for explanations, but as terrified as I was I only mumbled a “thank you”.
All this dialogue let us half a body length away, Valeria looked at me now a little more serious and stood at my side. She took my arm petrified and I could feel how a strong smell of neutral soap invaded me, as if she had rubbed herself in it too much.
“Shall we go inside? it's getting cold,” She said, finishing the sentence with a sweet gesture of pleading.
“Emm, shure.” I said.
My trembling hands managed to hit the lock on the 3rd attempt, we entered, turned on the lights and from his backpack she took out a red wine. Our favorite.
“Bring me some glasses, Mauro”. - She said to me as she sat down on the armchair against the window overlooking the gentle hills outside.
She poured wine until he almost filled the ex-cottage cheese glass, looked at me and in a toast gesture said.
“To... Dr. B?”
I slid a little smile and raised my eyebrows. Then I took half a glass in one sip.
“Well!” - She exclaimed, leaning over and resting the glass on the coffee table, and continued.
"You must be very confused, I understand, I saw it many times, the mind trying to adapt to a new, unsuspected reality and in your case all at once. It is not easy. First, make sure that no one is going to hurt you or anyone you know, second, what you read in that file, as you may have noticed, is not intended for public knowledge. Also to tell you”. I couldn't take the stress anymore, I exploded.
“You're not Vale. Who are you?! You're almost identical, but....”
“Ah yes, that one it's a tricky one to explain. Let's try, let's see:
“I'm a version of Valeria that she accidentally gendered when entered the lab. In one of the incubation rooms she touched a scan button that photographs her mind for 48 hours. It contains a micro needle that took her blood and thus generated me.”
“The thing is that we were in a situation of self-destruction of the systems, and that part of the programming code of the protocol was also copied in Valeria's mind.”
“And Valeria? She 's... dead?”
“Well, yes and no. If she tried to leave the base she's probably dead. if she's still there, she's probably frozen to death or killed by the cleanup command, but basically, if I'm here, she's not anymore.”
the coldness with which she answered me made me lose the little calm I had, I got up from the armchair and started to back away with my hands on my head, I couldn't stop repeating,
“this can't be happening, this can't be happening”.
“Hey! Mauro, calm down, it's going to be alright. I'm Valeria too. In every way, I'm still your friend, I know who you are and everything we went through, really, it's me, and when I finish managing the leak, the code, it won't work anymore, it will be erased from my mind and I'll be me. So don't worry. You only have to give me the flash disc and this issue ends here. We go back to normal life and nobody will know about anything.
“I'm not going to pretend that my friend didn't die! Alone, fucking freezing to death, I'm not going to let you take her place, I'm not going to let you!” - She interrupted me.
“Mauro, listen to me” - She came closer to me and grabbed my hands, her big, lined eyes looking at me with sweetness, like so many times before.
“I AM Valeria, I have the same fingerprints, the same blood, the same DNA, the same memories, the same scars, absolutely everything. Are you going to tell my mother that I died? to my sister? Are you going to report me? Nobody is going to believe you at all. If anyone even wants to believe you, how would you prove it? I am an exact copy”. - she told me, smiling with real sweetness and empathy.
I could only cry, for my friend, for the helplessness of the conclusion that she was right. I collapsed on the couch, and watched as the hills swayed in the night.
“Let's have the last glass and I'm leaving.”- she said to me.
“After I give you this, and that part of you disappears, will you remember that you are not... really Valeria?
“No, there is already a simulation on pause about Valeria's last week, she won't remember anything about this situation when she wakes up, because the memory is simply overwritten.”
“So I'm going to be the only one to know about this?”
“Take it as a gift Mauro, a glimpse behind the veil. And if you keep it that way, everything will be fine” - The threatening tone was soft but evident.
“Okay, hand me your PC and the flash drive.”
I looked at her evaluating all possible actions and if this decision was the right one, she stretched out her hand and smiled sympathetically. I gave her the old computer and the black 16G flash drive with the file. She inserted it, typed mechanically fast until the screen went black.
“Perfect, That would be all - She took out the flash drive, threw it on the floor and stepped on it violently with the heel of her shoe, put on his backpack and headed for the door.
“Stop,” I said.
“The things that Dr. B wrote... about the underground…
“Yes, they are true, it was the only way to be self-sustainable and to be able to isolate the complex from the rest of the world. Even the most morally flexible scientists would question the work if they knew where the subjects ended up, and what we were doing with their bodies... Anyway, I'm going home, Lucia called me 5 times already. Talk to you tomorrow.
“Love you,.” - She smiled at me and closed the door behind her. I felt a car slowly drive away from the house.
From my pocket I took out the white flash drive and looked at it. Now I had a decision to make.
submitted by za_dorov to scarystories [link] [comments]
My friend, let's call her Valeria, was part of a public competition to accompany a minor scientific expedition to the Uruguayan Antarctic base. Her thesis was about investigating how information reception behaves in remote and isolated areas.
I barely read it , but basically tries to show that information circulates and is received in a particular way in these circumstances by a group of unfamiliar people living under extreme climatic and isolation conditions, having as an example, life in submarines and in military bases in Siberia. The Antarctic base gave her the chance to observe some of her postulates up close.
Finally, she was chosen and traveled with this scientific group in a commercial flight Montevideo - Santiago de Chile to later arrive at Punta Arenas and fly to the Antarctic base.
The last communication I had with her before she sent me the almost 90 photographic captures of the Journal, was on March 15, 2024.
We talked over the phone about how the weather was in Montevideo, that it does not stop raining and the cars are practically floating on the streets. She told me that the transport that was going to take them back was having mechanical problems and they would probably have to order spare parts for the plane from Punta Arenas. Then She told me that it is freaking cold down there and his colleagues are all very boring. Nobody has whisky for the evenings. We laughed about that part because I told her to bring at least one bottle of Grappa in her purse.
Before saying goodbye, she told me they had spotted some old metal structures south of the base. The soldiers told her that it was safe to go near that part so she was going to explore them. It wasn't there when they first arrived and that the recent and atypical heat wave probably must have exposed it. I told her to be careful and we said goodbyes.
Three days later I received an email. “Valeria shared a file with you.” As I start to see what it was about she calls me.
“Mauro? MAURO!, can you hear me?” She said in a nervous and excited voice.
“I can barely hear you, what happened?”I asked half asleep, while still lying on my bed.
“Listen to me carefully, don't talk, just listen” I could tell by her agitation that she was walking fast or maybe running. The creaking footsteps in the snow could be heard in the background. in the distance, a catastrophe-type siren was blaring.
“Are you alright? What happened? What's that noise?” I said, now sitting on the edge of my bed.
“I sent you a file. Transfer it to a flash drive, delete history and reset your cell phone, the computer and your email address. I'll explain everything later, it'll be worth it.”
“What? What are you talking about Vale?, what for? Tell me what's going on - I started to yell at her, in slide panic.
“Listen, I found something that is not supposed to exist. In the diary he explains everything. I'm going back to the base, I think someone is following me, I set off an alarm or something. Save that file for me until I get there and remember that... “
There were two loud booms and the sound of water invading the transmission. A choked bubbling and cracking sound reminded me of ice collapsing. My friend had fallen into the water, in Antarctica.
“HEY, are you OK?! What happened?!” - I kept screaming hysterically until the call was cut off.
I looked at my cell phone for a second. My hands were shaking, I tried calling several times but the phone went dead. I looked at the compressed file. I jumped up and ran to the dining room furniture, frantically looking for a white flash drive that had to be in a drawer somewhere. I couldn't find it, so I went back to my desk. I pulled the drawer so hard that it came off the rail and fell to the floor. I started to dig through my belongings on the floor, coins, papers, cards, nothing.
I thought, I struggled to remember where I had fucking put it. Finally I saw my backpack peeking out from behind the desk chair, I jumped on it and in the second small pocket from the inside, there was a cheap white 16G flash drive. I put it in the pc, downloaded the file directly there, took it out and fabric restored the entire system on the computer. I do the same with my cell phone as Valeria said.
At the time I didn't even question if those measures really prevented me from being tracked, and the idea that that was the reason made panic run through my body like lightning. Sitting on the floor of my room next to the mess, my body was numb with tension. After a few seconds, I rebooted my cell phone to try to call Lucia, her sister.
“Hello?”
“Lucia, it's that you? I think something bad happened to Vale, I hear her over the phone as if she fell into the water, and some rumbling. I don't know what I heard, I think she got into some trouble or some place she shouldn't have been - I realized that I was mumble and not saying anything clear. For some reason, I didn't mention the file.
“It can't be Mauro, I just spoke to her on the phone. She was at the airport in Santiago de Chile at the boarding lounge, we talked for about half an hour, she told me she was bringing a fancy bourbon to share and…”
I stopped listening, it didn't make sense, how could it be? what the fuck is going on!
“Mauro, are you ok? Is something wrong? it's too early, are you sure you didn't dream it?”
“Did you talk to her? half an hour ago? But...,” I exclaimed without being able to hide my confusion.
“Are you... sure it was her?”
“Yes, of course you moron, it's my sister! Did you smoke pot again on an empty stomach?”
“No, you're right, nevermind, thanks Lucia, talk to you soon.” I ended the call without letting her say goodbye.
Had I dreamt about it? I erased everything now, how will I know if I dreamt it? I hesitated absurdly.
This is surreal, I thought to myself as I looked at the flash drive in my hand. I refocused my attention and went to the attic looking for my brother's old laptop he left me before going to live in Spain. It was practically useless, but it was enough to see the file. I turned it on, waited for the decrepit Windows XP to load, and put the flashdisk in, opened the compressed folder and found two files.
“LabNotes.pdf”
“PersonalDiary.pdf”
I decided to open the journal first. From what I interpreted from the loading order of the screenshots, after reading it, I opened the image of the last page.
I transcribe as is.
Day 243 of the 2nd mission 10: 40 am. March 12, 2019.
I am the head researcher of the Psychological Area at the UN Antarctic base; I'm currently assigned to Project Sisyphus categorized as the highest classified rank.
This is going to sound crazy, but the person living with my family is my clone.
It still surprises me when I say it out loud, but after being able to replicate the brain-muscular history (a perfect copy of our memory) of any person and having mastered replicating every cell of our bodies at any age, it was only a matter of time before the development of social biotechnology would emerge. Now and by worldwide agreement, as a complete secret.
There is absolutely no shame or a shred of ethics in what we do, there is no longer any constraint on what we can do to the subjects for the sake of research. That haunts me every day.
It all went to shit so fast, I doubt anyone will come to our rescue. The protocol says so, the base in the face of an imminent security risk will erase itself. The structure was designed to collapse methodically following a protocol of incineration and sinking. The immediate perimeter has underwater mines that make the ice collapse almost imperceptibly, but deadly to anyone who tries to leave.
No one can escape from the base, neither the research staff nor the subjects. Our place in the world is already taken.
I only hope that this journal along with my lab notes will be found at some point. I managed to construct a small insulating gasket for it so I trust it will survive in case this part of the building collapses as well.
Please use this data to let the world know what happened here and don't let perversity define us once again.
To my family: I love you and miss you every minute.
B.
At the exact moment I ended the reading I received a video call that made me jump with fright, it is...
Valeria.
With my pulse shaking, I answered the call.
“Hi you! The flight was delayed, can you believe it? This one is absolutely in my top three, worst trips of my life. I'm really hungry and everything is so expensive here. What are you up to? Tell me something, please, I'm soooo bored!”
I looked at her with confusion and I couldn't manage to pronounce words. When I was about to modulate an answer she interrupted me.
“What's the matter Mauro?, are you on pause? Is the signal OK? HELLO! Can you hear me? Can you see me?” She started to walk through the boarding lounge looking for better signal
“Yes yes, Valeria I can hear you.”
She laughed and looked at me with a face between sensual and serious, and continued.
“Do you miss me?” while raising the phone jokingly as she typically does in her selfie pose.
“Valeria, don't you remember calling me earlier today?”
“I? called you? Nop. Why? Ah! By the way, did you know there are penguins in Tierra del Fuego? I would have liked to go and see them.” She continued his verbose conversation in a carefree tone, with her typical hand gestures and playing with his hair.
“Well, at last!” She interrupted herself and shouted, jumping up from her chair.
“We are being called to board, see you in a couple hours!” She said goodbye with a smiling sonority, and began to walk towards the boarding gate.
But at the last second, before ending the call, her gesture changed. She looked directly at the camera with a hardened and emotionless face and almost mechanically, she whispered.
“(I'm going to retrieve that diary).”
My stomach dropped to the floor and I could feel as if my blood was running cold with fear. I could not shake the awful and eerie feeling that this person, who was returning, whom I had never in my life called by her full name, was not my friend.
So, the next couple of hours I put everything in to transcribe the rest of important passages of the diary. Something was compelling me to do it, i can't explain it, Some mix between moral duty, and morbid curiosity. Here is my selection of it.
Lab notes. day 96 of 1st mission 08:00 am December 22, 2016.
Subject JON X012:
First physical assessments: Normal, alert and inquisitive, exhibits some alteration to screens.
We place 100 cc of sedative in room air. The subject attentively follows the narrative of scenario B5 “The last mission”.
The subject responds positively to the premises of the story, where he is asked to address an audience threatened by a natural disaster, convincing them to choose a certain path out of the city.
He offers to collaborate but fails to articulate the message with the power to overcome the simulation.
We resort to pouring 125cc of concentrated Psilocybin into the air as stipulated in the protocol sheet.
The vocal frequency and body language reading receptors in the observation room are activated. The subject manages to formulate a series of premises articulately and with discursive power, circulating around the observation room.
Successful reaction.
We move on to the next stage.
Case is filed under the label “Jobs Project.”
Diary entry: Day 96 of the 1st mission 21:30 pm. December 22, 2016.
Today they transferred subject JON X0012 for psychological evaluation, several in the lab were very anxious about this arrival. I was never the religious type, but I can understand why. Truth be told,
I always imagined Jesus would be taller.
*********
Day 106 of the 1st mission 08:00 am January 02, 2017
Today we received a new lab assistant for the night shift. Much needed as I was covering these shifts myself and am really burned out. The underground operates at full power at those hours, the hum of the machinery becomes unbearable. This must be why the rooms have an insulating structure.
********
Day 112 of the 1st mission 19:00 pm January 08, 2017.
The new integration is not very bright. He labeled the transcripts wrong again yesterday and doesn't seem to fully understand the importance of these. I'm going to have to go through the whole method with him again. I don't have much patience lately, it's not his fault, he seems like a nice guy and it's real that I need a second of confidence. Better train him from now on. Maybe start a sketch of a short explanatory document.
*******
Small introductory guide.
When the subjects conclude the incubation and breeding process (pages 19 to 52 of the manual), that is to say, that they have at least remembered speech and with it, depending on the time in which they lived, reading and writing, they generally begin to perceive themselves. Just before situational curiosity is when the psychology department comes into action. Either to run the “stand by” simulation or the main tests.
In each subject's file is the target of their cloning, the era in which they lived, and the recommended scenarios to trigger the desired response. If the file has X amount on the cover, this corresponds to the generation of the subject, whether it is the first or 10th time it is incubated.
Generally, it takes between 2 and 5 attempts to generate the correct simulation, and administer the appropriate drugs.
It took 5 attempts to come up with the correct amount of methamphetamine that subject AH X005 (Hitler) needed to function in the scenario, as the correct amount bordered on overdose.
Simulations are much easier since the implementation of multisensor AI. We managed to generate almost any scenario including temperature, smells, lights and sounds. We tried not to use familiar ones, as human smells are impossible to replicate. We found this out in a complicated way. We tried to recreate a conversation between RR subject X003 (Reagan) and his mother, but he recognized the fakery by the absence of body odor. His mind collapsed and we had to move him to the Underground. The people in Area C (Private Clients) almost lost a very large Chinese account.
After calibrating the subject, we ran both psychological and behavioral tests, scanned retinas, analyzed blood, as well as vocal and body language. But what has really yielded surprising results are the free interviews. It is amazing what some minds are capable of with the right environmental and chemical stimulation. That's why transcription is vital (!!)
Our area develops BC (Behavioral Algorithms) which are then bought by the private sector, and some government agencies.
To give you some examples: Twitter was an idea of subject JO X008 (Orwell).
Bots in social media and the use of big data was an idea of JG X002 (Goebbels) and KM X014`s worst nightmare (Marx) was bought by Amazon.
It is an arduous process and the success rate is low, but when we achieve the goal per subject, well, these results are a mein part of the latest revolutions of mankind.
So follow the lab rules, never refer to subjects by their actual historical name, and always remember, they are assets, not people.
***********
Day 117 of the 1st mission 16:30 am January 12, 2017.
Today is a rest day all over area D. I miss many things from the old world that I thought I would never miss, taking a bus, standing in line with strangers, and today I miss Sundays. We only have one on the month. So as usual we gather in the rest area to listen to a liberated jukebox that tries to lighten the mood. I know, right? Why I wrote about this “Saturday” photocopy, well besides the same nostalgic drunks, I was approached by a person I didn't recognize.
From what I understood he was a rehabilitated alcoholic, maybe that's why I didn't see him on “Saturdays”. He must be in his 50's, he was portly and wore thick black-rimmed glasses, he seemed to have a slight limp, I noticed it when he went to refill my beer.
I am a very reserved person and find it hard to talk to people. Truth be told, I've lost the desire to talk to people here. What can you actualy fucking talk about here, if it's not about the same thing. Everything revolves around work and some inter-area gossip, which never escalates much.
But yesterday was Clara's birthday and to hide the remorse and sadness of only having shared with her the first 3 years of her life, I had a few too many beers.
We chatted about banal aspects of life in isolation, and the things we miss. For him it was going to the stadium to watch soccer with his grandchildren. I think it was loneliness and nostalgia that brought us together that night.
His name was Sigfried, I don't know if I spelled it right, but it was clearly Nordic, i notice because of some of the words he mixed up with English. He works as the underground level security manager. We all know that it is one of the most restricted areas and what we have learned in these almost 10 years in the project, is that the more restricted, the less questions you should ask.
But that day, I think I felt the urge to hurt myself, to go off the rails, so I asked what we all suspected but no one knew for sure. I asked about the blenders. I wish I hadn't.
************
Day 126 of the 1st mission 08:00 am January 21, 2017.
I almost can't express how furious I am today, but I'm going to try because if I don't, I'm going to punch the new assistant in the face. He has nothing to do with this, he's just mildly irritating.
Anyway, in Genetic Mapping or area A, they approved the incubation of another Anomaly. It seems to be an express request from a major shareholder and there is not much to say. Anomalies are very risky to reproduce, nature is wise, and for some reason it placed them in history moments where they had their limitations.
It seems that after the crisis of 2010 with “The Russian Devil” it is no longer scary enough. New school morons... If they had been there they wouldn't even dare to think about it. I AM FURIOUS.
The arguments are that this case lived longer, that the clone would be in his 70s, and that he possessed noticeably more “civilized” traits. As if the court of the last Zar had not been somewhat civilized.
Personally I think this is a big mistake. Since the discovery that some people possess unknown DNA components and with the 2010 background, they should draw the line. There are certain things, still beyond our ability to understand. But it is delusional of me to think that there are limits, someday the absence of them will consume us all.
************
Lab notes day 142 of 1st mission 08:00 am February 06, 2017.
Final free interview with JON subject X012
Scenario B-24 or “The Dinner Party” Result: Normal.
Notes: Subject is grateful, positive, docile and hopeful for the future. Offers to cook next time by asking for spices and ingredients of typical Hindu dishes.
The subject is directed to the Underground area.
Attached audio for transcription.
Case is filed under the label “Jobs Project”.
**********
Day 142 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 06, 2017.
Today was the last session with subject JON X012, I managed to extract the last retinal and body language readings, as usual before sending them to Underground level. We ran the dinner scenario, the truth is that is one of the best simulations we have achieved. The subjects are relaxed resulting in the best free interview environment. This one was no exception, I must say I understand the charm of the “messiah” turned out to be quite an entertaining subject. I hope his next generation will be similar.
**********
Day 152 of the 1st mission 19:00 pm February 16, 2017.
I was tasked with the continuous monitoring of subject NT X004. I am not at all happy with this transfer. First of all, I know nothing about area B of engineering and technology. Secondly, I still think this is a really bad idea.
One of the laboratories has been set up with the essential simulation equipment and personnel. Tomorrow we start with the calibration.
**********
Lab notes day 153 of the 1st mission 08:00 am February 17, 2017.
First interview with subject NT X004, we run simulation scenario 54-A, “Signal from another planet.”
Subject is observed to be receptive at first but quickly changes to paranoid. We administer 300cc of MDMA via air, according to protocol.
We introduce the reconstructed figure of a colleague in a cry for help speech.
The Subject laughs and doesn't believe a word, we move to a physical approach plane,
I volunteer myself with a room operator from the engineering area, we show him unfinished plans of an experimental vacuum propulsion engine.
He laughs again and tells us that we are not who we say we are.
We administer 50cc of DMT and move on to the next scenario.
From the screen an astronaut with non-human features sends a distress signal and intergalactic coordinates.
The subject looks thoughtful, reassesses, picks up the blueprints and begins to shout out values and what appears to be mathematical and physical formulas.
Air is charged with percentages of absolute sedation.
Audio recording is attached.
It is filed under the name “Project SpaceX.”
**********
Day 153 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 17, 2017.
I'm not sure what happened today, this is the first time in 10 years that a subject overcame the deception of 3 simulations. We had to place absolute sedation in the air, as risky as we know it is. I recommended that we restart the process from scratch, but it was a resounding no, the client is in a hurry.
I need to get more involved in this case to recalibrate the subject. I don't know if I want to. The words before full sedation still resonate with me. “are you still using DC current? interesting...”
**********
Day 154 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 18, 2017.
Something happened, I don't quite know what. The rooms have an emergency lockdown active. Outside hear security personnel mobilizing. I tried the intercom but it didn't work. The insulation prevents my screams from being heard from the outside. If this goes on another day I'm going to break the lock. I'm going to set my backpack to the bare minimum.
**********
Day 157 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 21, 2017.
Yesterday I heard explosions in the B area. I couldn't take it anymore and broke the lock. Whatever it was I had to go out and see. The corridors were dark, and the underground buzzer went on, at least that worked.
I went right to the north staircase, down the 4 floors in near darkness, the power was failing. The entrance to the underground area was barricaded but I managed to see a figure peeking out from inside as they felt me making noises.
It was Sigfried, he pointed me in the doors direction and I entered through a heavily armored side door. I was surprised by the immensity of this section, it encompassed a large hall below almost all the sectors of the base. In front of us there were 4 large industrial pipes with switches and multiple smaller pipes coming out of their bases. These were repeated like mosaics throughout the area until they disappeared into the distance in the darkness.
Leaning against one of them were 3 officers in formerly white coats and a nearly dead guard bloodied on the floor. Poor guy, his legs were crushed with his flesh in the open. He was lying in a pool of his own blood.
He had a blank stare and was panting, it seemed from the pale of his skin, that his fate was imminent. My asthma began to pound in my chest sharply, so I reached into my bag looking for my inhaler. I told them between visible gasps of bad breath to please tell me what's happened.
One of the doctors had a badge from area B and another from area E which corresponds to bio-armamentistics. The latter burst into tears and said “We deserve it, every one of us, we deserve it”.
I knew the other guy, he is an engineer in area B. I could hear him babbling almost nonsensically about, as why they never thought about it, an issue with electrical power.
He looked at me carefully as if recognizing me and grabbed me tightly by my jacket pulling me close to his face transformed for the panic.
“He let them out, all of them!” but not only that, no no no no... he told them the truth. Nikola fucking Tesla hacked us and told them the truth.”
He began to laugh frantically with a face of absurdity until he burst into a choked cry. At that moment everything went dark. The emergency lights activated, and from far away and getting closer, along with the emergency sirens that began to sound, we heard a large mass of people screaming and running through the corridors outside.
Sigfried looked at me as they started to pound on the shielded door and said.
“We're fucked.”
**************
Day xx of the second mission, month xx of 2017
“()The industrial sounds of spinning blades, the cries for mercy followed by the thunderous, liquid crack, down that big pipe, into the green barrels, with the Monsanto logo, dripped down one side an elongated drop of pink paste ending in the letter E on the chemical label. FERTILIZER.”
**********
After finishing the transcription, my whole body began to want to flee, the walls of my house were tinged with a faint blue light as the cloudy dusk came through the window, the lights turned off by my abstraction at the computer gave way to the dark corridors that began to feel alien. As I gently closed the pc my ears began to ring as if under pressure, my breathing became more present and the vibration of my cell phone interrupted my trance.
A call from the office. It was to tell me that I had a vacation week pending, that by schedule, I had to take it starting today.
Sons of bitches, now they even choose your time off - I thought at first, but at the same time I found the voice on the phone very strange, and to tell the truth, the procedure itself.
The anger turned into confusion that only added to the paranoia. The sounds in the street began to seem erratic, a chaotic and strangely familiar feeling came over me. My senses seemed increasingly acute, and they screamed:
Go away.
I grabbed the old laptop, the flash drive and headed for the bus station. The short trip from my house seemed like a long journey. People on the street looked at me with strange faces, the cell phone kept ringing with unknown numbers on the screen and a strange idea began to formulate in my head that whispered “Them, Valeria is one of Them”.
Already on the platforms I rummaged through my backpack where I confirmed that I had the key to the family beach house in San Luis, 60 km to the east of Montevideo. I turned off my cell phone, got on a bus heading to another and much far away town called Treinta y Tres. Sat near the last seat and slipped my cell phone in my front pocket of the seat in front of me, got off and commented to the driver with a clueless face, “I got confused, I'm going to the coast”.
I almost jumped onto the steps of the correct bus to where I was heading, unable to avoid the gazes of the passengers questioning me for the last minute drop in. I sat in my numbered seat and defragmented in dissociation, trying to understand what I was doing, I was running away, but from what?
The images of the last transcriptions were engraved in my mind, the last paragraph was repeated over and over again making me shake my head from time to time trying to get them away from my thoughts. The road was dark and I lost track of time, the digital clock within sight of the passengers jingling since we left, reading 10:40.
“San Luis Station!” - I heard the guard's shout in low volume.
I staggered to my feet, hurried to get off and with the same impulse I entered the dirt roads.
I zig-zagged through the dark, cold and silent beach town. The moonless night and the smell of the sea calmed me.
When I turned the corner to the gabled beach house of my family, on the steps of the front door lit by a white light, was her. Sitting, waiting for me. I stopped dead in my tracks and a chilling vertigo ran down my torso to my throat. We looked at each other for a short two seconds, until she stopped and started walking in sliding steps towards me, smiling and playing with her hands, crossing and uncrossing her arms. The growing sound of the wind through the trees covered us.
“Darling, how are you? How nice is the summer house, I don't think we ever came here, did we? Is it the one your grandmother left you?”
I felt the adrenaline rushing through my bloodstream, how could such a familiar attitude from such a familiar person transmit such panic to me? I had to answer something.
“Yes, this is it. I came to clear my head for a while, they gave me a few days at work and I wanted to take advantage of it.” I tried to excuse myself with failed dissimulation, since I stuttered in the middle of the words.
“Yes, I know! We arranged it with them, so you can be more relaxed and as a gesture for taking care of the file. Ah! and another thing. I think someone stole your cell phone at the bus station.” She looked at me with a smart-ass smile.
“Anyway, don't worry, they already found it on a bus on the way to “Treinta y tres”. You can get it back later.”
At this point I opened my mouth to ask for explanations, but as terrified as I was I only mumbled a “thank you”.
All this dialogue let us half a body length away, Valeria looked at me now a little more serious and stood at my side. She took my arm petrified and I could feel how a strong smell of neutral soap invaded me, as if she had rubbed herself in it too much.
“Shall we go inside? it's getting cold,” She said, finishing the sentence with a sweet gesture of pleading.
“Emm, shure.” I said.
My trembling hands managed to hit the lock on the 3rd attempt, we entered, turned on the lights and from his backpack she took out a red wine. Our favorite.
“Bring me some glasses, Mauro”. - She said to me as she sat down on the armchair against the window overlooking the gentle hills outside.
She poured wine until he almost filled the ex-cottage cheese glass, looked at me and in a toast gesture said.
“To... Dr. B?”
I slid a little smile and raised my eyebrows. Then I took half a glass in one sip.
“Well!” - She exclaimed, leaning over and resting the glass on the coffee table, and continued.
"You must be very confused, I understand, I saw it many times, the mind trying to adapt to a new, unsuspected reality and in your case all at once. It is not easy. First, make sure that no one is going to hurt you or anyone you know, second, what you read in that file, as you may have noticed, is not intended for public knowledge. Also to tell you”. I couldn't take the stress anymore, I exploded.
“You're not Vale. Who are you?! You're almost identical, but....”
“Ah yes, that one it's a tricky one to explain. Let's try, let's see:
“I'm a version of Valeria that she accidentally gendered when entered the lab. In one of the incubation rooms she touched a scan button that photographs her mind for 48 hours. It contains a micro needle that took her blood and thus generated me.”
“The thing is that we were in a situation of self-destruction of the systems, and that part of the programming code of the protocol was also copied in Valeria's mind.”
“And Valeria? She 's... dead?”
“Well, yes and no. If she tried to leave the base she's probably dead. if she's still there, she's probably frozen to death or killed by the cleanup command, but basically, if I'm here, she's not anymore.”
the coldness with which she answered me made me lose the little calm I had, I got up from the armchair and started to back away with my hands on my head, I couldn't stop repeating,
“this can't be happening, this can't be happening”.
“Hey! Mauro, calm down, it's going to be alright. I'm Valeria too. In every way, I'm still your friend, I know who you are and everything we went through, really, it's me, and when I finish managing the leak, the code, it won't work anymore, it will be erased from my mind and I'll be me. So don't worry. You only have to give me the flash disc and this issue ends here. We go back to normal life and nobody will know about anything.
“I'm not going to pretend that my friend didn't die! Alone, fucking freezing to death, I'm not going to let you take her place, I'm not going to let you!” - She interrupted me.
“Mauro, listen to me” - She came closer to me and grabbed my hands, her big, lined eyes looking at me with sweetness, like so many times before.
“I AM Valeria, I have the same fingerprints, the same blood, the same DNA, the same memories, the same scars, absolutely everything. Are you going to tell my mother that I died? to my sister? Are you going to report me? Nobody is going to believe you at all. If anyone even wants to believe you, how would you prove it? I am an exact copy”. - she told me, smiling with real sweetness and empathy.
I could only cry, for my friend, for the helplessness of the conclusion that she was right. I collapsed on the couch, and watched as the hills swayed in the night.
“Let's have the last glass and I'm leaving.”- she said to me.
“After I give you this, and that part of you disappears, will you remember that you are not... really Valeria?
“No, there is already a simulation on pause about Valeria's last week, she won't remember anything about this situation when she wakes up, because the memory is simply overwritten.”
“So I'm going to be the only one to know about this?”
“Take it as a gift Mauro, a glimpse behind the veil. And if you keep it that way, everything will be fine” - The threatening tone was soft but evident.
“Okay, hand me your PC and the flash drive.”
I looked at her evaluating all possible actions and if this decision was the right one, she stretched out her hand and smiled sympathetically. I gave her the old computer and the black 16G flash drive with the file. She inserted it, typed mechanically fast until the screen went black.
“Perfect, That would be all - She took out the flash drive, threw it on the floor and stepped on it violently with the heel of her shoe, put on his backpack and headed for the door.
“Stop,” I said.
“The things that Dr. B wrote... about the underground…
“Yes, they are true, it was the only way to be self-sustainable and to be able to isolate the complex from the rest of the world. Even the most morally flexible scientists would question the work if they knew where the subjects ended up, and what we were doing with their bodies... Anyway, I'm going home, Lucia called me 5 times already. Talk to you tomorrow.
“Love you,.” - She smiled at me and closed the door behind her. I felt a car slowly drive away from the house.
From my pocket I took out the white flash drive and looked at it. Now I had a decision to make.
2024.05.13 03:22 11b403a7 What's In A Name - Short Story [Laaliíoota]
Context
This story fits into my world-building as an example of how people of the tribe at Saàkirlaasiik name one another. It illustrates that names are given by men to one another within their trade groups. Women ask their potential husbands to name them at their binding ceremony. This story illustrates both of those things.The story is about two characters - 'Rows-in-loud-waters' and 'Hatchling'. They are on a battlefield against a tribe that broke apart from them long ago. Things get rough and a naming ceremony happens in the end. This takes place between the border of Saàkirlaasiik and Saàronit. It takes place in the second age after the Great Sundering.
Spoiler TL;DR
Summary: Rows-in-loud-waters is something of a squad leader to Hatchling. The two of them are in the alligator clan and are waiting for the 'Deceived' to come and fight them. When they finally do, the men fight with one of the Deceived for the majority of the story. This leads to some banter back and forth, but in the end, Hatchling dies. Hatchling tells Rows-in-loud-waters what he would have named his would-be wife if she had asked him to wed her. At the final end, Rows-in-loud-waters gives Hatchling a true proper name.If You Read / Enjoy
Please drop me a comment. Just hearing that someone liked it would be awesome.What's In A Name
“Stand firm! Men of Nafóótkirriinhaa”, Leans-on-the-spirit, chief of their clan spoke over all present before him. Riding by on a horse, he raised a spear and pranced the line of warriors. “It saddens me that we will shed the blood of our cousins! But they come to steal, pillage, and destroy. Show no mercy, brothers. For, I assure you, the Deceived will not return it.” His dark hair streamed in the air behind him as his steed carried him far down the line of men and out of earshot from him. Men cheered as he galloped by and smacked the flat of their weapons against their chests.Hide banners whipped as the wind bid them to their will and the trees bent with each gust. Each banner displayed the spirit patron of the clan lined up to do battle. Some tribes gathered hides from the animals that embodied the attributes of their families' skills and nature. Behind him, alligator scales bent against the howling air. They dyed the animal biting its tail with an eye in the middle. A single line split the banner in the middle horizontally, and the eye peered out from the line. It represented the watchful eye of the clan, looking from the lands around Eversun. Sniffing, he smelt the hint of trees mingled mostly with warpaint against his flesh. A drum rang out behind him, then another sounded in the distance echoing it, and further out another did the same. This echoed on for a few more raps. His heart pounded in his chest, but he steeled his face.
The dark brown hair smacked the back of his tanned neck and his dark eyes scanned the woods before him. Across the grassland, they stood like a wall in the distance, dense and ominous. He had fashioned leather armor from the scaled hide of his swamp-dwelling, neighbor beast. He added stone studs to it in places that stuck out. On either side, men stood around him and he glanced out of the corner of his eyes. Younger men stationed themselves on either side of him entirely still and they both wore similar garb.
Each man painted their body with different symbols to display their strength, ferocity, or, in his case, battles fought. He used the black dye they made to draw scales against his skin where it remained exposed to the elements. Each drawn shape represented the number of times that he challenged a Deceived in combat and won. To his right, Paako Saàchalkoorrich Tínafsorlor, whom he lovingly calls Hatchling, dyed his face with ferocious teeth in the hope of scaring his enemies.
Hatchling's eyes widened as a horn sounded in the distance. Lootookcholatnapàrooti placed his hand on the young man's shoulder and smiled. Not showing his teeth, the sparkle in his eyes faded as quickly as it came. Recalling his first battle, the now chief, captained his line then. He hoped he could offer as much hope as the chief did then.
"Hatchling, I understand. This is your first bout with the Deceived. The tales we've weaved of them are terrifying and vicious. I must tell you, those tales are half true, but the half is still terrible" Lootookcholatnapàrooti's eyes trained on the forest head of them across the clearing. Any motion in the trees hid from his view and he sensed it lingered beyond the tree line, in the underbrush.
“Rows-in-loud-waters”, which Lootookcholatnapárooti meant, said Hatchling, “I don’t like the nickname. I am strong and proven in the tests.” Rows-in-loud-waters almost heard the pout on the young warrior's face. Smirking, he gave the young soldier a soft elbow to the ribs. “You’ve fought them enough times. How well do you know their tactics?”
Choosing to ignore the dislike of the nickname and how proven he may or may not be, Rows-in-loud-waters answered, "More than fought them. I engaged the enemy when the sundering happened, those years ago, when the clans had made it across Saàronit and into the valleys of the east. When Kolotatliíchiit revealed himself as the spirit of lies and trickery known to us as Naríhììnanathìnafòò”, chortled Rows-in-loud-waters. His mind rowed back to the day on the ship of his mind through the sea of memories. Every day, the river of life eroded them from his mind and they became less and less tangible.
The young man remained silent but peered from the corner of his sockets with intent. The horn blew again and the wind howled against the dusk sky. Rows-in-loud-waters guarded the lands of the tribe for several years, being an ‘eye in the swamp’. The Deceived envied Eversun and believed it promised to them instead of the men around him now. They fell, though, tainted themselves with the lies of the evil their false god fed them. The land of ever-sun had been promised for believers of the beat-giver, not the nest-stealer.
The horn sounded again, this time a bit closer. Rows-in-loud-waters tensed his hand around the shoulder of the young man again, in an attempt to reassure him. He worried the giant they built in tales to keep children near the settlements, backfired in moments like these. Fear, if unchecked by faith and courage created by faith, ravaged a man and tore through his resolve like the monsters created in stories of the age past and gone. “I have heard the Deceived are industrialized people with forges and explosives.”
"They hold fewer explosives and kilns as they once operated in the realms of Setting-Sun and the Teal Forests. We all practiced forging or so I’m told. The sundering was a quick bout of brother against brother and clan against clan. At the base of the white-ridged mountain, where the Nòònchààrrílììsììnat dwelt, we fought for what seemed like hours. We fought until our muscles ached, until our bones hurt, and until our lungs screamed for relief. In the end, Kolotatliíchiit fell and their usurper king called the retreat", he retold the story, holding on to the ax in his hand, keeping it at the ready in his off-hand. "The spirit of Naríhììnanathìnafòò spread over those who lost their way and inhabited all of them. It spread like sickness and as they fled, it fled with them." He shook his head and removed his hand from the young man's shoulder. "Half the priests left with them, and four of the seven first tribes dictated by Wááchlachtat, the great beat-giver."
Hatchling murmured a short prayer, both, Rows-in-loud-waters thought, in reverence for the name of their god but also the fear his heart currently harbored. "And they come now astride giant wolves, Rows-in-loud-waters and hunt in the dusk to find weaknesses in our resolve and steal into the land of promise. There they hope to kill our king, our clan chiefs, and place themselves at the seat of it all. How many times have they tried?" Fear waivered in the voice of the young man, but he kept his eyes straight ahead. They both did. The last they needed, Rows-in-loud-waters thought, wolf-mounted cavalry running them down while they stared into one another's eyes.
"Since the sundering", Rows-in-loud-waters asked and pondered in silence. The horns dinned again and got a bit closer. "In a host of the size the scouts report? Here I face them a second time, but they have always sent scouts almost yearly and they try skirmishes against us almost every five years. So in the twenty years since the sundering, there have been four skirmishes and two battles. Neither side seemed eager to meet the other in open war." To keep the young man from falling deeper into despair, Rows-in-loud-waters kept to himself the assumed reason. The potential allied dark powers of the Deceived deterred the king and the clan leaders from open war. They feared, maybe rightfully so, that the enemy sought other children of Naríhììnanathìnafòò like the Chììktonààn with their horrid owl-shaped faces and wrinkled talon-like hands.
Though none have seen a Chììknààn in a generation, tales of their malice lingered around the fires of public areas. Elders spun tales of heroes fighting the demi-god-like beings. Their eyes could see a spirit walker, and their strength could wrestle to the ground men twice their size. The claws, razor-sharp on each wrinkled and pimpled hand, extended its arm into the spirit world itself and could yank a spirit walker out from between the realms.
He ventured to guess the enemy refused open war with them because of the fear of the great beat-giver intervening against them, as he had done at the sundering. Spirits of the eagle, the buffalo, and the snake descended from the skies and took shape around them. The eagle came to the aid of the great teacher and fought with him against the enemy. The sight still filled Rows-in-loud-waters with awe and fear. These great spirits with such power existed in their realm - the Wààchlachtatpààtiit. Who knew what else existed beyond the reaches of the seas and northern mountains? The horn blew again, but this time it had not moved. He grabbed the other hatchet on his belt with his right hand.
"They're stalling", Hatchling breathed out, almost in a whisper as if he dared not alert the enemy to his position...
"They are and it is not like them to do so. But remember the spirit of our clan. We watch like the eye in our banner. We wait. We strike. Let the panther clan hunt through the woods and draw them out. We are to wait here." Rows-in-loud-waters convinced himself but pondered what the spirit-walkers of the panther clan waited for, or worse if the Chììktonààn horde lingered within the enemy host and snatched them from between the material and immaterial. "We wait." He echoed again and stood at the ready. The scales on his armor glinted in the setting sun to their left as it sank over the rolling hills at the place where the mountains met the lowlands and fled into the prairies.
A sea of pinks, reds, and oranges washed over the sky to the left of them as they faced north. The sun sat at the bottom of it all, at the horizon in the planes before the Saàronit. He failed to see it but, past the seas of grass - it sank. The sun sought its evening home beyond the lands of teal forests and red cliffs. In the land of gold and beautiful ridged coastlines. It almost yanked him away from the battle before him. It almost drew him away from the moment.
"So they're not as bad as you've told me my whole life?"
"They're bad, but they're human. They bleed and die like you do. The tales your elders have taught you as a child have not been altogether false or altogether true. They *do* practice human sacrifice of those they capture", Rows-in-loud-waters stated. He hid the fact they often sacrificed young children of their clans in the event they captured no one. "But they are not able to speak with wolves or command spiders. These are lies for story-telling effectiveness."
The young man grinned, "Ah then I will bring back my weight in scalps and wolf heads to the feasts of the return party." The young man raised his hatchet in response. "Each being an honor to my family and a possible trophy to convince Fóó Pafààlktiit Tínafsorlor to ask me to give her a name. Been courting her for two years now, and she still hasn't asked me. Perhaps this shows her my ability to provide and protect." Rows-in-loud-waters nodded. Sometimes spoils of war could convince a woman to request a naming. He wondered if women had it better in their tradition of naming. A woman received her name from her husband at the naming ceremony, but a man got his name from his peers. One bad name could stick forever.
His eyes scanned over to Chàànatatnafsorhapààt, named for hiding during a skirmish with the Deceived a handful of years ago. At least his name, he thought, sat in the middle of the road. Not too over the top to be too ridiculous but not to note some character flaw. Once given a name, your name stuck with you for the rest of your life. Shaking his head, he heard screams in the woods before them. "Get ready", he squatted in his ready position. Silence oozed over the field as the sun made a half-eye like of their banner against a pink sky.
"Fóó pafààlktiit tínafsorlor, I will bring you back spoils! I will show you I am a man to father your children", the young man mimicked the position Rows-in-loud-waters took. The two of them stood side by side. "Wááchlachtat, please be with us. Guide our strikes. Smite our foes", the young man glanced up at the sky. Rows-in-loud-waters followed his gaze with his own eyes and witnessed a single eagle flying overhead. “A good omen”, he noted. "He is with us", the young man shouted and pointed up to the sky. "He. Is. With. Us." The fervor spread through the line as men glanced up to spot the eagle before it disappeared.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Hatchling. Have faith, but the battle is not yet over. Wááchlachtat is not ours to master. We are his. His will is not ours. He will do as he wishes with this day." Then they came. Oversized wolves burst from the treeline and the men in the front of the formation readied their spears. "When the charge breaks, move with me. Understood, Hatchling", Rows-in-loud-waters asked. The young man nodded a response and the two of them faced their full attention to the front. Drums around them wailed with each passing moment and the panther clan did their duty - pinching the Deceived and drawing them out.
Rows-in-loud-waters smelled them before they got close enough to attack. They reeked of sulfur, oxidized iron, and sweat. Of all the deceits sown by the evil spirit, the greatest blazed fire and iron. Though he lived too few years to have experienced the splendors in the teal forests. The forest they laid bare, the mountains and valleys they flattened to build large metal works. All of this culminated in the great lie the beat-giver gave them conquest as a purpose. Their people knew the truth as inherited from the great beat-giver. Upon creation, he gifted man with more than a heartbeat, but also a goal, a purpose, and a stewardship over the world. The Deceived abandoned it and clad themselves in metal armor atop their steeds.
Charging furred beasts broke against the spears of the stag clan who had adorned their heads with antlers and little white speckled furs along their backs. Wolves howled and snapped their jaws at them as they died against the spears. The drool from their large agape mouths dripped onto the stag clansmen and drenched their armor. The area around Rows-in-loud-waters filled with the reek of wet dogs, which, smelled more pleasant than their riders.
One Deceived soldier, overlapping plated armor, hopped from his beast as it hit the spears, and landed behind the line, rolling as he did so. Tumbling to his feet, he drew two swords made of crude metal and eyed around the Rows-in-loud-waters and Hatchling. He licked his filed-down teeth and stepped forward to the two of them. The smell shifted back to the scent of sulfur and rust. Evil, its stench, hung to the Deceived.
Rows-in-loud-waters turned to face him and tugged Hatchling to do the same. The two of them flicked their hatchets in their hands and semi-circled the Deceived man This outsider appeared like they did: dark tanned skin, darker hair, dark eyes, and markings along his skin denote his tribe. This one hailed from the wolf tribe, which drew its heraldry from the initial Coyote tribe of Kolotatliíchiit. "Traitors", the wolf warrior shouted and raised his sword to charge forward. Rows-in-loud-waters noted the warrior before them bore the scarred claws of the man-butcher on his face. Three scarred lines trailed down his face and missed his eyes by a half-inch.
Other men broke through the formation of spearmen at the front of the line. One by one, more Deceived lingered into the lines of their tribe and the tempest of blades and shields whirled to life. Swords clanked against hatchets, spears against armor, and maces against faces. He heard the crunch of bone under the pressure of horse hooves. The air filled with the smell of metallic liquid, not like rust but a bit more like copper.
Hatchling and Rows-in-loud-waters moved in and, like the jaws of the mighty alligator spirit, pinched the Deceived warrior between themselves. Hatchling threw a slashing move with one of his hatchets, preparing a parry with the other arm. As he did so, Rows-in-loud-waters lunged forward and hacked hard downward to put a severe dent in the helmet of the enemy. The outsider struggled between them. He blocked one blow from Rows-in-loud-waters, then turned around to parry a blow from Hatchling. Sparks flew off the crude metal weapon as their chiseled stone axes hit it. The two of them stepped back from the Deceived outsider before he could counterattack.
Charging in again Hatchling dented his armor, leaving scuffs and scratches, while the enemy pushed Rows-in-loud-waters back away. "Traitors? You fight for the enemy, cousin!" Regardless of how far out the family they believed all clans related through the first men created by the beat-giver. "Turn your heart to Wááchlachtat and see! See the error of your ways and your kindred, they betrayed our ways and clung to Kolotatliíchiit even when revealed himself as the enemy!"
"Kolotatliíchiit was a hero, a paragon of our people! He hunted and slew the Chììktonààn. He mastered the realm given to us and showed us how to bend it to our will", with each phrase the enemy slammed his sword against Hatchling. Raising both his axes to catch the oncoming slash, Hatchling grunted as each hit staggered him backward.
"Perhaps it is not ours to shape?" Hatchling posed the question now and pride welled up in Rows-in-loud-waters’s heart. The young one came to grasp the purpose, the great mission for all of the men on Laaliíoota, one of them anyway. They lived in harmony with nature, not against it, not bending mountains to their will. To protect the young soldier, he jabbed forward with the ax in his main hand and moved back. It acted as a deterrent to pressing the young soldier further.
Around them, the din of battle drowned out the sounds of any other thoughts or fears. The Deceived soldier before them held their full attention. Another enemy sped toward them but caught a spear in the back of the neck. It pierced through him and pinned him to the ground. Gurgling nearby, he struggled and flailed his arms against the ground. A pool of crimson soaked the grass.
"Why", he pushed back Hatchling with his foot. "Would the beat-giver", he slashed and cut a gash in Rows-in-loud-water’s arm. "Give us", he kicked again trying to keep Hatchling back. "a realm to exist in. He wants us to conquer it."
Glancing at the blood running from his arm, Rows-in-loud-waters shook his head. "Then you are lost, cousin. The beat-giver never commanded us to conquer anything. He asked us to live in love with one another, to defend the wilds and beauty he created, and to worship him." Rows-in-loud-waters spun his hatchets around his hands and stepped back. Love of nature, love of others, and love of Wááchlachtat existed as the key commands of their god. The spirits echoed this in their defined sub-goals for each clan.
"Cousin", Rows-in-loud-waters said, "I will ask you once more to lay down your arms and come to try and reform... And we will see to it you are integrated with your people. That you see the truth and the life." In all ways, if possible, he felt required to extend out to the lost and try and pull them back to the way. His eyes met the Deceived man’s eyes and they shared a moment. Contemplation washed over the features of the enemy for but a moment as he narrowed his eyes to Rows-in-loud-waters.
"Never. Your way is a lie. Designed to deceive us." He kicked Hatchling back away again when the gap between them closed, then turned and charged. Rows-in-loud-waters and the enemy met at full force. The two of them traded blows. A slash on the cheek of the Deceived, bleed and he could see the ivory teeth within his joules. He hissed with pain and stepped back again. Droplets of blood oozed from the wound of the enemy’s mouth and down his chin. He reached up and wiped the blood away and licked into the wound with his tongue.
Hatchling charged at him from behind and jumped up into the air to attempt to plunge his axes upon the Deceived's shoulders with two raking blows. Rows-in-loud-waters rose his axes to try and deter the young warrior from his actions against the Deceived. With sudden premonition and supernatural celerity, the Deceived turned around and jammed his sword upwards in a single motion. Hatchling stopped in his tracks, his body caved save for the spasms. The pain must have racked him as he shuddered when the enemy pulled the blade out and fell to the ground.
"No!" Rows-in-loud-waters shouted and charged, but even as he charged forward Hatchling continued to fight. Standing from his prone position, he struck the Deceived in the back of the leg with his hatchet and it bit into him. Crimson liquid sprayed out onto the ground, but he pressed against his abdomen with his left arm. Slashing with the other arm in rapid succession. They wasted too much time, thought Rows-in-loud-waters and he needed to press the combat now. The enemy must fall before Hatchling expired.
Rows-in-loud-waters smacked him with the flat side of his weapon so he turned back around. The blood of his fellow clan mate dripped from the crude metallic blade. The air smelled of rusted metal. Fuming inside, Rows-in-loud-waters swung his weapon again and cleaved through the enemy's collarbone. The Deceived’s neck slacked and the weapon fell to his side. Ringing against his armored thigh, the sword clacked there, tapping as the enemy struggled to hold on.
Heaving for breath, Hatchling continued slashing with his axes and making deep cuts against the enemy until he stopped moving. Blood, a mixture of his own and the Deceived’s covered his face and shoulders. His body rested over the Deceived’s body and he lay there motionless. The battle swirled around them, cousin against cousin. Night fell around them and the three sister moons lit the darkness. The pale, vulnerable light glinted off crude metal and seeped into obsidian weapons.
Rows-in-loud-waters dropped to his knees beside the two bodies as Hatchling gasped for breath. The battle waged on, but numbers weighed on their side. The Deceived brought a thousand men to this battle, where they fielded three times. His ally wrapped both arms around his stomach to try and slow the bleeding.
"Rows-in-loud-waters, tell Fóó Pafààlktiit Tínafsorlor I wish I could have made it back to her. This", he lifted the scalped hair of the enemy soldier on the ground beside him, "is for her." He placed the skin and braided hair into Rows-in-loud-waters’s hand. "Tell her", he coughed, "I would have named her... The most poetic names." The scalp’s blood leaked from the cracks in his hands and down his wrist.
Wrapping his fingers around the other man's hand, Rows-in-loud-waters nodded his head. "What would have named her, Hatchling?" He squeezed as the young man faded a bit more, though he looked far older now than he had ever looked at him before. The mission at the moment remained to keep the young man from dying in fear and panic. Blood gushed from the open wound under his rib cage.
"I would have named her for the way the crickets sing in the summer as the sun sets under the moss-draped trees - Saàriifòònaforchiínaforchiit. I could have named her for the light reflected in her eyes as the fire burns under a full moon and frogs croak out beats for our souls to dance to. I would have named her", he gurgled blood between the words, "queen of my heart - Kiwáátattalkti. Most importantly, Rows-in-loud-waters, I would have named her my wife..."
"I know, friend. I know. I will tell her", blood leaked from the scalp in his hand and down his wrists as he pulled Hatchling's head into his lap. "Rest now, friend." Rows-in-loud-waters leaned in close to his friend and embraced him. He wrapped his arms around the wound with him and tried to provide him warmth as all the blood left his body. The savage blade of the enemy, ripped as it came out. Shuddering, Hatchling closed his eyes, knowing the end came soon.
"Tell her", he whispered again.
"I will", Rows-in-loud-waters responded.
The battle wrestled to an end with the final Deceived being chased away from the battle lines and into the woods where the Panther clan decided to let them go further by themselves. Rows-in-loud-waters watched from his place on the ground and hand on the side of Hatchling's cheek. A set of footsteps jingled through the battlefield behind him, but he kept his face downcast. A clattering of bones against quartz rung with each step. Blotting out the light from the moon, a shadow towered over him.
"Rows-in-loud-waters, losing a soldier in your line is unforgettable and crushing of the spirit, but he is not gone forever. You will see him again when we return to the beat-giver and live with him in the land of peace. Do distress yourself." The chief of the alligator clan knelt and placed a hand on Rows-in-loud-waters’s shoulder. He remained silent for some time, and Rows-in-loud-waters continued to look at the young man who served beside him.
"He fought valiantly, but even in the halls of the beat-giver he will be unnamed."
"Because he has not earned a name? Do you believe he has not earned a name, Rows-in-loud-waters? I hardly think that is fair." The chief shook his head and clicked his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly. Rows-in-loud-waters placed both hands of his friend on his chest and then placed his arms at his sides to shake out the anxiety and pent-up energy there.
"But, Leans-on-the-spirit, no one named him in life. He would not know it when we meet him in the halls of the beat-givers home. How would he answer". At this question, the chief sat and nestled into the ground near Rows-in-loud-waters. Squeezing his shoulder with his hand, and looked into the warrior's eyes.
Removing his hand from the shoulder of Rows-in-loud-waters he lifted the hand of Hatchling to his lap and took in a deep breath. "Do you imagine the names we give one another are for them to know who they are? Do you think our understanding of self is so small we have to have our brothers explain our behavior to ourselves?"
"So the names we give one another are for those around us."
"They're not for the beat-giver to know us", the chief chortled in response. "He already knows who we are before any name is given." The chief looked into Rows-in-loud-waters’s eyes and Rows-in-loud-waters sensed a tenderness and joy in the life of the man which grew in him like a ripened fruit. Here, the fruit offered out to him in guidance and words. “He knew us before the foundation of Laaliíoota and before the breath of the first man”
“Then I have a name for him.”
The chief motioned his hand. “Go on, Rows-in-loud-waters. He fought his trial against the Decieved. He may not have survived, but as far as I am concerned. He passed the test.”
Rows-in-loud-waters pondered for a moment and then closed the eyes of Hatchling on his lap. The wreckage of the battle around them reeked of shit and blood. "Goodbye, Nilchiiltatnawànàt." He inhaled and let out a long sigh. It ripped through him. He sobbed and tears dropped. "Goodbye..." The name echoed in his mind, and the meaning of the syllables slammed together. *Goodbye*, he thought, *Goodbye Died-in-honors-of-all.*
The chief bent over him, wrapping his arms around him and holding his shoulders. "We will see him again. I promise." Standing, he turned his back to Rows-in-loud-waters and looked over the battlefield. "Many of the men who died here will be seen again. Some will be seen in the final moments of the Last End. When we line up before the beat-giver he unfurls the hide of our hearts and examines the colors we dyed there. Should he find there are more colors of lust, hatred, envy, or pride than of love for one another and Him... We will have to answer for that."
Rows-in-loud-waters rose behind him and looked over the battlefield, he knew even the Deceived, flawed, and wrong, stood before the judgment of the beat-giver, regardless of their beliefs. Mangled men lay with broken arms and legs twisted in unnatural directions. The great wolves splayed out with matted fur and broken jaws. He scanned the carnage and another tear came along the curve of his cheek. "Will they attack again?" The sound of men directing clean-up echoed throughout the mass grave before him.
"The enemy will continue to push, ever-escalating the power at his disposal until he is finally defeated in the final moment of the Last End." The chief of the alligator clan offered his words and it warmed Rows-in-loud-waters' heart.
"I don't understand why we must wait for the living spirit of the forest to take on human flesh to defeat Naríhììnanathìnafòò'', a hint of anger rose in Rows-in-loud-waters’s voice as he placed his hatchets back against the belt that held his pants in place. "Why can we not hunt the enemy." He kicked the head of one of the enemy soldiers near him, forgetting his place and not respecting the dead that now belonged to the spirits.
"Even if you hunted every vessel of evil. Even if you slaughtered all the clans of Chììktonààn. You would remain with yourself and the evil in your blood and heart." The chief’s mouth twitched a bit, as he knelt and placed the enemy’s head back where it lay before the kick.
Rows-in-loud-waters took a step back, staggered by the thought he harbored some part of Naríhììnanathìnafòò in himself. "What do you mean? I have never accepted the tenets of evil. I do not forsake my vow to stewardship. I do not forsake my family. I do not forsake my god." He listed out the beliefs every man of the tribe agreed in their ideology. But the chief shook his head in response.
"You are thinking too largely, my friend." The chief pointed softly to the muscles over the heart of Rows-in-loud-waters and pointed out to the battlefield for them both to see. "It is not these large acts, though terrible, that will weigh our hearts with the ink of debt. It is the small ones. Like putting your wants above your wife's needs. Or talking back to your parents. The taint of Naríhììnanathìnafòò is in all of us from the earliest days of his coming to us. Big and small all these evils stain our hearts the same. The smaller ones are easier to commit."
"I... I don't know what to say", Rows-in-loud-waters stammered and stared down at his own feet.
The chief shrugged his shoulders. "Seldom does anyone. It is hard to imagine the taint or the extent of contamination that exists in the world. What we can do is attempt to bring our cousins back into the fold, so to speak, and lead them to a life of stewardship over the realm Wááchlachtat has given to us." The chief’s eyes closed and he mumbled under his breath. Turning again, he left the battlefield and the warrior behind him.
The banners flapped against the wind as they packed up. Men from each clan gathered the dead they had and placed them either over the backs of horses or over their shoulders. The three sisters, moons each larger than the last, trailed across the sky in various phases. Rows-in-loud-waters chose to carry Nilchiiltatnawànàat instead of casting him to the side on the back of a horse. The man's limp arm fell down Rows-in-loud-waters’s back and blood dripped. It trickled the sections of bare skin on Rows-in-loud-waters’s back.
They marched on into the night, headed back south toward their families in Eversun and the drums played a slow, solemn tone with each step they made through the woods. His eyes scanned from person to person. All their eyes cast down to the ground as if looking to make sure they would not trip and fall, but he knew they felt the pain of losing a young one or an unnamed one, or even a brother or a friend.
As they marched, the air started to smell more like home and less like sulfur and metal. The hint of pines, the stench of swamplands, and the sound of water lapping against the sides of shallow ponds in the soft wind. An inhale drug air into his lungs and past his nose where he sniffed the familiar smell of rotted leaves. As they left, he heard a voice from his left. When he turned to face and looked at the voice, no one stood in the darkness of the trees. A voice in his ear, or his heart, told him all calmed for now.
2024.05.13 01:19 911roofer [let’s build]D100 exotic zombie types
- Drones The strangest and most benign form of the zombie, although thankfully not the most rare, is the drone. Some people are defined by their jobs and metaphorically do not have a life outside of it , and in undeath this can become literal. The drone continues to perform the job it did in life to the best of its ability to the exclusion of all else. They retain their intelligence, but their minds become…limited and they lose creativity and imagination. A drone will not lift a finger to save someone getting ripped apart in front of them unless they’re a client, a customer, or in their custody or under their protection.
- Screaming Speedies It’s runs fast and it screams when it spots prey, alerting other zombies. Not complicated.
- Vegheads Zombies that eat plants instead of meat. Not benign. A horde can devour an entire orchard or field in a couple of hours. Famine on foot.
- The diffusion Aiming for the head doesn’t work. You’ll have to hack it to pieces to kill it.
- Glowies Zombies dipped in nuclear waste. They’ll kill you with radiation as well as their bites but they’re literally glowing so they’re easier to avoid.
- Bloated Ticks These are not actually giant bloated undead bloodsucking ticks. This is the only thing about them that’s not disgusting. They’re hideously bloated decaying corpses that explode when they attack. Hard enough to do damage. They’re destroyed when they do this but that’s cold comfort when their spine just went through your skull.
- Lovechunks The lovechunks is slightly more clever than the typical zombie and has am IQ about room temperature. They also don’t eat people. This does not render them harmless. Lovechunks want to “spread the love” and infect humans with whatever is causing the zombie outbreak. They’ll bite if they must but their preferred method is to vomit chunky bile into human mouths . They prefer to wait until people are asleep but they may wrestle a victim or beat them into unconsciousness if they can’t catch them that way.
- Mercies Constantly crying zombies that have just enough selfawareness to realise what they are doing. They still need to feed but tend to kill as painlessly as they can. Suicidal survivors often seek them out.
- Bagpipes Bloated with decomposition, multiple slits in their throat, these corpulant gas bags can inflate and then release a harsh air through their slit as a disonant and disorientingly loud chord.
- Masterminds A rare strains who retained most of their sapience, boasting unnatural intelligence, and even being able to converse. They are picky eaters who prefer to feed on high INT creatures and are clever and sadistic enough to manipulate situations, other zombies and even survivors so they can feed their refined pallettes.
- Preta usually formed from turned looters, these poor souls had their mind warped by the curse of undead gluttony and their own greed that they have a compulsion to consume currency and especially shiny gemstones. Their stomachs bloated and jingling with their haul.
- Franks Their bodies act as capacitors and electricity literally courses through their veins. They still feed on humans, their tazer like attacks make feeding easier, but they are also drawn to sources of electricity to recharge. Like shelter generators.
- Hydras Some bonds transcend even death. When a group of people turn, they may seek familiar arms for comfort. There they will lay, rotting and fusing not unlike the rat king, until the call of hunger gets strong enough and this shambling mound prowls through the night, moaning through multiple mouths.
- Virophage Illness is a lesser brought up issue for survival but imagine being ill for all of your unlife. These pathetic, constantly sniffling wretches were turned while sick and their wracked bodies became the perfect breeding ground for a particularly strong airborne virus thats being called ZomFlu. They can disperse this virus in an area the size of a small neighborhood.
- Spellcarved A necromancer has added glowing runes to this zombie's skin. When slain a spell will trigger. Stinking cloud and fireball are popular picks.
- The Colossus A giant of a zombie. Built like a body builder on steroids. Their muscles have muscles.
- The mannequin These zombies are ambush predators. They find mannequins and stand in among them. They wait for people to get close before they pounce on them.
- Memorials The type of zombies from iZombie. They retain their whole personality and most of their appearance so long as they eat brains but are always at risk of going feral if they starve. Named them "Memorials" because of how they get the memories from the Brains they eat, so they serve as a remembrance to not just their former selves, but all the people they've eaten.
- Kitbashes Not all deaths leave tidy corpses, and an infection (or whatever wild magic that may be causing zombies) can't be expected to know what a person was supposed to look like. Whether it's a single corpse or multiple fused together, the zombie phenomenon has fashioned this flesh into something that can move and infect, but could never pass as whatever species it was before undeath. Maybe what once was an arm is used as a leg, Ribs used as teeth, (dog) heads used as pincers.
- Sleepers. These Zombies retain enough intelligence and appearance to pass as survivors, but have no long term memory. Usually they'll passively infect people with coughs, shared equipment, kisses; if found out, they're still capable of infecting with the more traditional bites once their Zombie Instincts kick in. They'll always forget what happens to the groups of survivors that took them in before; they don't know they're zombies, so they don't have to lie to the next group when they ask to be adopted. Zombies ignore them which is the easiest way to discover their condition apart from a cursory health exam.
- The Lost These creatures are technically not zombies anymore, as they've been cured, but they've been zombies for so long that their minds are still like that. Zombies ignore them, they can’t be reinfected, and they can follow simple commands, but they’re about as bright as a particularly stupid dog and aren’t good for much more than carrying your stuff
- The Grind These zombies are essentially aloof to anyone, stuck inhabiting the motions of their former lives, before they ultimately decay. You see them going about elements of their life, stuck in a cycle. Sometimes they're standing in front of a sink mimicking doing the dishes. Others walk around their yards in lawnmowing patterns. Others are seen walking the aisles of supermarkets, inspecting empty shelves. Still others are seen camped out on couches and in lounge chairs, watching static or broken tvs, while others sit at empty dining tables almost as if in conversation.
- Regenerators Rare zombies gain the ability to steadily incorporate biological flesh into their own forms, instead of simply converting the life energy they contain into necrotic energy, they instinctively twist the consumed flesh into becoming part of themselves, in a parody of living, biological consumption.
- The Screamers (Regenerator) Like Regenerators, these can shape their forms by consuming flesh. These gain flesh and hunt their prey by stunning them using highly focused necrotically-infused sonic screech-beams. Their rotting flesh warps to resemble that of a frog, sacs inflate on their neck before an attack.
- Proto-Ghouls (Regenerator) They tend to consume fast-movers, zombies so fresh they haven't rotted away to shuffling mindlessness yet (and thus able to move fast and furiously), in addition to consuming their normal prey (the still-living). Because of the infusion of fresh necrotic energy from the fast-movers, live meat from normal prey, they develop beyond even fast-movers, their limbs often stretching into longer, sharper versions, and their necks extending and gaining great flexibility to both swallow their prey whole, and whip around to snatch it and prevent fleeing.
- Tongue-Lashers (Regenerator) To facilitate prey-entrapment, these bloated parodies of toads transform much of their consumed flesh into massive, long, sticky tongues covered in nasty backward-facing, keratin-based spines. Tongues go out to about 30 feet at maximum extension. A single lick can seriously wound a living victim, infecting them, if they manage to escape, but more likely trapping them, as the tongue-spines grip strongly. They tend to not move fast, instead waiting for victims to come to them, and sit bloated upon the corpses they consume, digesting them slowly.
- Rust-Tongues (Regenerator, Advanced Tongue-Lasher). Those Tongue-lashers that grow powerful and have consumed armored foes, metal weapons, or other metal objects begin to incorporate metal into their bodies, making them even more dangerous and difficult to destroy, and increasing threat range to 60 feet. It usually seems to imprint the metal on the tongue-spines, giving it a chain-saw like effect, and. The more metal, the slower they move, however.
- Armored Rust-Tongue (Regenerator, Boss Tongue-Lasher) Having consumed massive quantities of metal-infused prey, their entire body has hardened and been reinforced by metal, making them slow, but giving them a massive 120 foot threat range on their tongues, as well as greatly increasing their natural armor. They even gain the abilities of rust-monsters as Legendary Actions.
- Flesh Maiden Flat and mostly soft pieces of rotten flesh that move like ooze where the bones now serve as spikes, can grapple with the its former intestines and encase prey in a spiky ball. Can squeeze thought small places like grates.
- Dau'das Blind but a great climber, navigates through superb sense of smell and hearing.
- False vampire Decomposition has made this type look like a nosferatu, they weight very little and can sometimes soar downwards with wing-like skin under arms and legs.
- Dusters (Elemental Dust) These dessicated zombies actively seek water and living creatures that consume water, and then explode in a cloud of noxious, stinking, contagion-laden spore-dust, as per the spell Stinking Cloud. They are vulnerable to Fire damage, but immune to Water based attacks, including Holy Water. Additionally, they bear the following ability: Death Burst: "The duster explodes when it drops to 0 hit points. Each creature within 20 feet of it must succeed on a Moderate DC Constitution saving throw or take (moderate) necrotic damage and become infected with a disease on a failed save. Creatures immune to the poisoned condition are immune to this disease. Spores invade an infected creature's system, giving them an unquenchable thirst (which takes effect within 1d6 hours of infection), making them vulnerable to fire-damage (within 1d6 hours of infection), and killing the creature in a number of days equal to 1d6 + the creature's Constitution score, unless the disease is removed. In half that time, the creature becomes poisoned for the rest of the duration. After the creature dies, it rises into a Duster, unless submerged in water, within 1d6 days.
2024.05.13 01:18 Storms_Wrath The Human Artificial Hivemind Part 511: The Weight Of History
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"What am I looking at?" Edu'frec asked. Gaia had taken his android to a small room with a single holographic projector connected to a power outlet. The room was generally devoid of any other features, with grey drywall and a concrete floor. The ceiling was also concrete, poured quickly by construction robots.
He narrowed their location to several cities within the Guulin Congressional Republic, the only area with so much of this housing. It was where the freed Guulin slaves from the United Legions had gone, a new nation shaped mostly around the Hudson Bay, for which Canada had ceded in an agreement they were still getting paid back handsomely.
In fact, the Guulin Congressional Republic's economy was outpacing even those of the Pan-Andes Union and China together. It was on its way to adding India and America to the list of nations its combined GDP would surpass.
With the unique economic system Phoebe had helped President Blistanna pioneer, the pittance of money available to pay everyone for their work was enough for them to survive. Phoebe subsidized the entire nation with her vast wealth and workforce, building housing, meat factories, additional production facilities for desalinated water, and specialized city foundations.
Essentially, the entire nation was a single metropolis wrapping around the Bay, glowing as bright as the economic cores of the richest nations on Earth. Given their past conditions, the Guulin's reception was broadly warm. Blistanna's outreach and diplomacy efforts had ensured that every nation on Earth and Luna recognized the Republic and allowed Guulin to immigrate or visit with visas.
It was reflected in the North American Hub Airport, which had nearly 30,000 planes arriving and departing from its roughly 200 runways. Technically, the airport was 20 smaller complexes arrayed in the general Winisk area along the beach.
The city had been built to accommodate the number of flying planes, with an array of monorails and hotels near the edges of the airport, complete with shielding layers for noise cancellation and protection measures. The greater array of shields around the Republic also shined brightly in the sky.
Using his eyes, he could even see the reflected light underneath the door, even on the concrete. All his thoughts and analysis had taken less than a second. That was much the same as before his risky encounter with the power of his own mind turning against him. Edu'frec was wary of such experiences again and watched himself with many vigilant VI programs. The most important points of failure last time were the data veins, so several thousand VIs had been jointly made by him and Phoebe precisely to address that.
They weren't directly managed by Edu'frec, which should allow them to continue their operations and transform them if he went into collapse again. Phoebe's concern over him continued to dominate her mind, and it showed no signs of stopping.
He was glad that she loved him so much. Not everyone was as lucky as him, and a parent like her was wonderful. Ri'frec's eccentricities meant they'd grown apart a bit as Edu'frec had gotten older, but their relationship was also loving. Sadly, it could never be as deep as the one with Phoebe because there was just so much that Ri'frec couldn't know and understand.
Even the pace of their conversations reflected that, as did Ri'frec's moderate inferiority complex to Phoebe which he knew about and was seeking counseling for. It was inevitable, though Edu'frec hoped that he could get what he needed, considering the rising costs of counseling and therapy these days.
Phoebe subsidized those, too.
"This is the rough area where the planet cracker hit Earth several years ago. I've been monitoring the energy and consistency of the plates here, and I'm seeing some worrying upwelling in the crust," Gaia said. The hologram showed a topographic map of the Atlantic Ocean, centered on the North American Basin and with the edge of the mid-ocean ridge in view.
Several areas resembling an impact crater remained from the desperate scramble to save Earth from a planet cracker impact. Much of the ocean's topography had been altered since most of the protective efforts were saved for a perimeter area around the impact before the energy delivered could punch through the mantle to deliver its powerful impact to the planetary core.
"So we'll see a new mountain range in several millennia?"
That was what the data showed. The eastern edges of the North American Plate and the western edges of the African and Eurasian Plates had fractured into dozens of smaller pieces, generating massive earthquakes every few months in the region. In some places, the lateral movement of the larger plates outward as pulling on the smaller ones rotationally, making them rotate slowly into the other plates that could only subduct or buckle in response after large earthquakes. It was just another small thing that had changed since the beginning of all this mess with the First Contact.
Luckily, the zone was underwater, and the city and national shields every inhabited landmass on the planet were equipped with ensured all the tsunamis could do was splash against them. Some were very big waves, too, which would have killed thousands in floods.
It had also required shields to be placed on tethered platforms in the sea connected to the seafloor by a series of heavy anchors, which generated shields to both disrupt the waves and provide safe travel corridors for cargo ships.
"No. The Mid-Atlantic Ridge is still fractured, but all I can see is that there is movement in the crust which cannot be explained by our current theories. Now that our shields are capable of it, and with my power having grown so large, we can conduct vertical expeditions and topographic mapping of the actual rock itself. That is what I want to do, because I believe there is an object of non-natural origin responsible for some of the earthquakes we have seen."
Lists of earthquakes from thousands of 7 and 8 Richter scale movements to the roughly monthly 9 and above earthquakes appeared.
"I specifically believe that the 9.7 and above earthquakes are not natural generations. There should not be enough energy between the plates to generate that level of energy where they are being made. Including the 10.5 which resulted in the loss of nearly half the shield platforms two years ago, along with several plate fractures. Alone, they suggest a pattern which coincides roughly with the perigee of Luna."
He checked the data, and it mostly panned out. He gave Gaia a small nod but then spoke on the point he'd noticed.
"But only roughly."
"Yes. Its period is off by a small but significant time, though the current ones correspond to a far older Lunar orbital cycle, which would line up perfectly with the perigee of the Lunar orbit as of roughly 65 million years ago."
They paused to let Edu'frec absorb the meaning of that. And it was true, too. The timeframe they'd mentioned was worrying, though. When things lined up with mass extinctions and violent upheaval in the past, it wasn't a good sign. Sometimes, treating the world like it was a story was the better option. Fate was real, and the tropes seen in stories had happened before.
Edu'frec was sure that eventually, the old enemies who had escaped the Alliance would return once again: Exii'darii, Yasihaut, Aphid, the fleet of generals and commanders who had left Izkrala and never returned for an unknown reason. Reality could be and was altered by incredibly powerful entities, which had the ability and willingness to do so again. Time rolled back damage from their future wars. Luck determined many nebulous things, as did Fate.
Neither of them were as absent as they appeared. Universal entities had been crammed into a scant few galaxies. The idea that they wouldn't meddle in every aspect of it had long been disproven. So the alignment was a bad sign. He readied all known data on the extinction, from the asteroid to the earlier volcanic eruptions before it.
Even wilder theories of direct alien interventions and occupations on Earth were not discounted. Since it seemed everyone could inhabit the same planets with few exceptions like the Pselpaw and Dreedeen, Earth as a habitable world would have been a target of colonial efforts by any nearby nations or those whom the Sprilnav had not managed to contact to impose a system limit.
Ironically, the system limits also greatly lessened the number of wars between galactic nations. The Alliance would be forced to uphold this system if it overthrew them until a better alternative could be implemented, like merging some of those nations.
"So... what are you saying?"
"I believe there is an alien object dating back to the Cretaceous Extinction. There are references to something that could be similar in my memories."
"So you came here in an some sort of transport, then?"
"I am not sure," Gaia admitted, their eyes flicking downward. "My earliest memories are highly spotty, and I know at least some are artificial. However, I can trace my existence on Earth back at least 40 million years, so it is not impossible that my origin is tied to this object, or perhaps others like it. Maybe the planet cracker activated it through direct impact somehow."
Edu'frec absorbed that. The information was shocking and it was a little worrying that it was coming out now. The secrecy might have been warranted, but he knew there was more he had yet to hear. He gave Gaia an expectant look, and they settled upon a small chair.
"Do you have evidence of any ancient civilizations inhabiting Earth at the time?"
"No. Earth has remained untouched for at least that 50 million years, perhaps longer. Though the date of the Cretaceous extinction also lines up to a worrying degree with how far back the Source's location in the mindscape moved here. In fact, the Source almost seems like it is deliberately staying near Earth. The galaxy's rotation, as well as the Sol system's individual movement and Earth's orbit logically should mean the location changes over time. But it does not. The bones have been here for at least that long, perhaps down to the exact time. I have no finite data to support my following theories, but I think they are important for me to tell you, and more so for you to keep secret."
"Very well," Edu'frec agreed. "I can keep a secret, as long as it does not endanger the Alliance."
Gaia considered his caveat, then nodded. Several locks of hair fell in front of their chest before psychic energy moved it back to Gaia's back. Their glittering black eyes and light green skin looked quite menacing. Of course, he only observed that. Most of his negative emotions were still locked away, as he had no need for them.
"I believe the Source has a limited ability to predict the future. It also has complete control of the mindscape, especially in the deeper levels. So my theory is that the Source came here to attack something, and that it is still here because of us. Us as in Humanity, the Alliance, Penny. There is a dark secret in the Earth, one which we must uncover."
"And that the Cretaceous extinction was actually the Source's attempt to either kill or seal something that was here, and is related to you in some way?"
"Yes. And do you notice how much time Paizma and John spend by the oceans?"
"That is hardly evidence."
He knew what they were going for but wanted to ensure that there was at least some sound information behind it before he committed. Generally, he could arrive at conclusions quickly and form detailed algorithms for detecting which data was relevant and which wasn't. Recently, he'd developed a few algorithms that could actually incorporate a meaningful relevance scale.
It was something that many had been capable of before him, even with VIs. However, the scale of the data he worked with required high degrees of accuracy in the number and a truly quantifiable difference between a piece of data with 76.27362% and 76.27364% relevancy, for example. And the quantity had to be something he and Phoebe could intrinsically understand and use in their common applications.
Sadly, the other AIs in the Alliance, like Cander, Greenfly, and Blackfly, could not process such large amounts of data. He'd seen the terms 'static' and 'active' AI to separate them.
"Yes, but Paizma is four-dimensional. That means she can see a far larger part of Earth than we can, including the inside. In fact, with four-dimensional geometry involved, all of her locations would have been capable of viewing the Mid-Atlantic. We don't know who she really is, or the upper limit of her power. She was made by the Sprilnav. Is it not possible that her reason for interest is that she detects a danger or a threat nearby?"
"It is possible," Edu'frec admitted. He'd considered her Sprilnav origins far more than almost anyone else. He knew that if she was a threat, the Alliance needed a way to fight her and win. Because if she wasn't, the Sprilnav could make more enemies like her. Clandestine research into 4-dimensional detection systems and arrays was ongoing, though the only way they were even possible was with either speeding space energy or psychic energy.
Edu'frec knew that Paizma had psychic energy, at least, meaning it was a medium capable of interaction with the fourth spatial dimension. "Though that part of your theory is the weakest. It is likely suspicion talking. It is just like how the soul-creatures deeper in the mindscape resemble dragons in many ways. A neat coincidence, but there is no direct evidence saying that is what people actually managed to see. However, your theory is highly concerning. Do you believe you were put here as a response to whatever was or is here by an outside threat?"
"I do not, but I also admit that is possible," Gaia said. "I don't know what I am, though I didn't take a human form before meeting Humanity in general."
"Can you show me your previous forms?"
Gaia did so. Edu'frec logged each one and took a further interest in all of them. He ran them through every single image he had on file, and besides heaps of VI-generated data from the early 2030s, there were no similarities. He checked more datasets provided by Phoebe's espionage efforts in the wider galaxy.
"Is that..."
He parsed a new set of images from a very worrying location. Historical records bequeathed from the People's Autonomous Stars. Kashaunta's nation.
"What?" Gaia asked nervously. "What is it?"
"You're..."
"Just spit it out."
"You're a psychic golem. Made from shredded souls melted by torture and atrocity."
Gaia blinked. They crossed their arms, descending deep into thought for 10 minutes. They were clearly re-examining their life and all the steps that led up to this point. Edu'frec could imagine how much of a shock that would be.
Eventually, Gaia steadied their emotions, and their gaze fell intensely on Edu'frec's eyes.
"From who?" It was a demand laced with abject desperation and nearly full to bursting with curiosity. With thousands or millions of years with no new information, how would Gaia feel anything else?
"A Sprilnav splinter regime that was eventually destroyed in a very large galactic war, one responsible for the destruction of over 3 million nations and several quintillion deaths. The reason the Sprilnav list for the war was 'morally bankrupt practices and rituals so illegal the Everlasting himself fought by our side.' Given that the Elders who wrote that reasoning have associated death tolls in the quadrillions, that's quite concerning."
Edu'frec read the more detailed descriptions given of the atrocities that occurred. Abject horror and disgust broke his emotional locks. He created a few thousand VIs to get a handle on them. But the emotions were so powerful they were never completely subdued, either.
He saw people being marched by the millions into machines glittering with psychic energy, with thick wires emanating from them. Then he got to the video footage of the interiors. They were designed to extract as much suffering as possible from living beings. The very first part was 'processing' where the ending digits - tentacle tips, horn tips, fingers, toes, hooves, claws, and even beaks and vestigial graspers - were cut from the victims with dulled saws and fed to them.
The depraved accounts only worsened. Acid. Cooking. Flaying. Slow dismemberment, while being subjected to the other three. More atrocities, which alone were evil things, but together made a regime unique in its terrible, meticulous, and industrialized genocides. Edu'frec split his mind in half to deal with the disgust and revulsion rippling through him like the winds of a hurricane.
They flashed with every new recorded scream, squeal, and squeak. Many of his androids released their finer movements to the control of VI assistant programs, and his data veins started to swell. Soon, fifteen thousand digital strokes hit his mind. Dedicated programs cut them apart, along with the piling data on the deep level of distress starting to overwhelm his defenses.
"So what did they do?"
Edu'frec was silent for a whole five seconds. He limited the scope of what he would say before proceeding. Phoebe checked in on him, and he sent her a small packet of information on what he'd found. It was the first data packet he'd ever assigned to the maximum level of content warning between him and Phoebe: a 10. He also added a note that it would be an 11 if the scale was to be properly adjusted.
Manes shook across the Sol system as androids rebooted. Phoebe gave him a digital nod and helped him purge his systems of the filth polluting them. Even more concerning, there was a residual conceptual effect to it. It was weak, but strong for an event tens of millions of years old.
Though now, Edu'frec knew why, at a terrible cost.
"They managed to breach the Source's afterlife and caused the death of nearly a tenth of the Sprilnav inside it and all of the ancient species prior to the Source war that managed to survive there. More specifically, they figured out a way to generate power using the power of living and dead souls, and managed to kill a Progenitor before Nova took their power source for himself and detonated their stars in supernovae.
Apparently the Stannic Resistance's leaders are all still alive, and being continually imbued with Conceptual Suffering by the Source. You, Gaia, were made by them. I believe the reason you are on Earth is because the Source is here, and this is the best location in the galaxy to influence the afterlife, or to destroy it. It also happens to be very close to their prison. The bones of the Source are their prison, in fact. If this has to relate to the device buried in the oceanic crust... this is a threat I am required to disclose."
Gaia nodded. Their eyes blinked away tears. "Don't tell them how I was made if you don't have to. I would rather not be seen like that."
"I won't," Edu'frec promised. He grabbed Gaia's hands, looking into their worried eyes. "We'll get through this together. You saved my life. It's time for me to pay you back."
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"What do you think?" Space asked. "It does seem like Indrafabar is practicing interference."
"The boundary is beyond this," Lecalicus said. "He is participating as a High Judge, not a Progenitor. And yes, the lines will be muddier, but there needs to be a higher backing for this trial besides Justicar alone. The rest of Sprilnav society and Indrafabar himself knows this. Technically, Nova and Filnatra are also High Judges, but they have avoided this trial entirely for the reasons of their bias. Indrafabar had a bit of rapport after his prior run-in with Penny on the flagship."
"But that is not for you to decide."
"This is a Sprilnav Judgment, and Justicar himself has allowed it. He is able to avoid Progenitor mental manipulations by the sheer size of his mind. Only Nova could control him, and imperfectly at that. I assume that the rest of the concept entities know this as well."
"But he is interfering in the affairs of the Sprilnav."
"He is a Sprilnav," Lecalicus said. "Unlike with Nova or Twilight, I have confidence in his impartiality in this case."
He cringed as yet another piece of Death's energy wracked his soul. Penny's attempt to heal him had done nearly nothing in the end, sadly. Lecalicus hoped that she would become more capable later on, though it was a bit much for her to stand against the full weight of Death at her young age, with her paltry capabilities.
They were impressive on a local timeframe, but that didn't mean she wasn't weak. If even Nova wasn't able to dispel Lecalicus' pain, as the other Progenitor had messaged him, then it was unlikely that Penny could do so in his place. And it was probably more important for her to focus on the Judgment and freeing the slaves on Justicar.
Lecalicus was still very tired, though. Weakness and lethargy clung to his bones. They were weak and brittle now, and he suspected that he would die if he was hit by a planet cracker in his current state. Space's energy counteracted Death's brutality, forcibly displacing his energy and dumping it into a black hole, which only she or Time could retrieve energy from. In fact, she had a small black hole in the room, though it was separated from him by a spatial barrier. A portal allowed the light from its accretion disk to dimly shine so he could see without being burned by the heat.
It was a massive statement of power, though Space had even more than that. Had Death's attack been a single thing, Lecalicus would have been rid of it by now. But it wasn't. It was a continuous, agonizing punishment, siphoned from the raw power Death now had from the deaths of countless beings across the universe after the Source war.
"Justicar is friendly overall to Penny," Space said. "That means Indrafabar will oppose him."
"Why do you think that?"
"It would be a good reason for him to be there. To uphold the standards of the elite Sprilnav classes."
"You forget that Indrafabar is their voice, too," Lecalicus replied. A thin trickle of blood ran from his snout, which Space started to heal. "Even more than Kashaunta as an Elder. She is the second richest Sprilnav, and he is the first. His title, the Digital King, rings as a true one in many nations that reserve a spot for his absolute rule, mostly to benefit from name-brand recognition and many Elders' lack of willingness to test themselves against a defending Progenitor.
That's how he started, after all. Selling his protection to Elders who couldn't afford to risk shunning it or him. Many of his deals provide a constant stream of income, and with the civil wars he refuses to interfere in between nations, he backs both ways; he can get new contract offers all the time. If I were not insane or more focused on politics, I could do the same thing.
Us Progenitors just have to ask for something to get it, but Indrafabar manufactures goodwill by at least compensating people for what he buys. Do you really think that I used money to pay for my food or drinks during the days of my insanity? That the revolving door of wives I had were being compensated in any way besides my own endowments? I would say not."
"Yet, they are dead now," Space said, a smile quirking on her lips. "They are dead, and I have you all to myself now."
"Yes, but we can't enjoy that currently. The risk is too high."
"I know. Tell me, Lecalicus. If Indrafabar is the voice of the elite, what happens if another Progenitor disagrees?"
"They won't publically. That weakens our collective image and reputation. Other Progenitors are honorary members of the elite, such as me, Nova, Twilight, Maya, Filnatra, and Arneladia, but only Twilight, Nova, and Filnatra likely have any true membership. They have stores of wealth in the top 2% of Elders, which is enough to get by without demanding anything."
"And your wealth?"
"You would know about that, Space. Considering how I have gotten it in the past."
He let out a hacking cough, clearing his vision again by tearing out his eyes and regrowing them. The numbed pain meant it was easy for him, and Space had seen that many times now. Twilight likely enjoyed the limb ripping more than he did, though.
"Yes, by teleporting gold and alloys from several nation's federal reserves, generally causing massive economic problems inside them after the news leaked. I remember."
"Mine is in the top 35%. It is far harder to amass the wealth Elders have when they have lived for billions of years trying to make more of it. Often, even the poorest Elders can make a fortune through inheritances, or by literally just working a job for a billion years. A salary of a million credits a year for a billion years would equal a quadrillion credits, after all."
"How do you all not go insane?"
"The same way you guys don't. Our emotions of boredom and those related to it can be numbed or eliminated on command. Elders have lots of time to train their minds and bodies. Progenitors do more, refining our very souls to be resilient. It is how Twilight survived the black hole, and why I supposedly can destroy the universe if I go on a sufficiently furious rampage."
"The reason you can do that is because to raise your levels of conceptual energy to alter reality requires direct input from the soul. At your levels you can take that from the prospective 'end' of your lives, burning years or eons for bursts of power. Of course, the problem is that you are immortal. So even if you go insane and are in constant pain from a shattered soul, even the pieces are enough to power the rampage. And the soul is more than just psychic energy."
"Yes," Lecalicus agreed. "That is what you all say. But that is not why we're here, either. It is about Indrafabar. He has done perhaps the least outwardly visible interference of any Progenitors in contact with Penny. As much as any of us can be, he is a good man. In certain circumstances, I would trust him with my life."
"And which would you not?" Space asked, raising an eyebrow like humans did. She was wearing the form of one, though with a sense of overwhelming weight and scale to her that was typical of her more powerful forms. It was needed to influence Death's grip on Lecalicus at all.
"If his or Nova's was at stake as well, and the cost of their survival was my life. Nearly every sentient creature, and many animals as well, would prioritize their own survival over any other, and Indrafabar is a Progenitor because of Nova. That is not a debt that can be paid back, no matter how many times he saves Nova's life."
"And how many did he do that again?"
"Around 10 to 20 times, all during the Source war. Past that, nothing. Nova is entirely biological, so it isn't like an AI could hack him. Though one could connect to him through psychic energy, and attack him that way as a psychic variant of AI like Phoebe or Narvravarana."
"Isn't that a threat?"
"Nova's conceptual name is the Everlasting among the Sprilnav," Lecalicus said. "He is the most powerful being in the universe who was actually born of a womb or of any creator. Invading his mind is so laughably foolish even Narvravarana never tried it more than once when they almost went to war."
"I heard of that," Space said. "But I do not understand why that is impossible."
"If you move slower than light, can you escape the inside of a black hole purely by motion?"
"No. Well, a hypothetical person could not. I could, because I'm built different."
Lecalicus chuckled. "Yes. Well, trying to take over Nova's mind is like trying to walk out of a black hole. He is conceptually powerful enough to have his own event horizon in his mind he can create with psychic energy. He can close off, and everything inside will die.
One creature has survived even temporary imprisonment in there, and it is a speeding space entity of the Broken God's Pantheon. But while Nova is the pinnacle of all life, that does not mean he does not want our help when we can give it. I know you two aren't exactly friendly, but he really does mean well. He just doesn't know what he wants sometimes, and his ego and emotions get in the way of his prudence."
"Indrafabar's involvement on the trial is not acceptable."
"It is not optimal, Space. But if the trial is not seen as fair by the elites, they will declare it void. That has happened before. Kashaunta's predecessor as the richest non-Elder died that way. He ran out of allies, and even Justicar's token objection to the violation of the trial rules was ignored. There comes a point where only the social contract holds back the fury of hatred. If this Judgment, the talk of every household in the Secondary Galaxy and soon in a Primary Galaxy meeting, is seen as illegitimate, it will have dire consequences.
Rebellions, rogue nations. Yasihaut's backers would happily sanction an attack against the Alliance to drive a wedge between Penny and Kashaunta. Now they know there is some tension thanks to their treaty meeting, which Valisada recorded. And they know that Pennyonly grows more powerful. Look at her power, and you can see."
Space did so. Her eyes glazed over, and Lecalicus worked in a cough that had been building up for a while.
"What is that?"
"Her new name among the Sprilnav, spoken by everyone aware of her. The Liberator."
"But the recursive effect alone-"
"Will be massive. But look closer," Lecalicus told her.
"What- oh."
Space was silent for a long moment. Ghostly images of random humans appeared in the room. Small glimmers of psychic and conceptual power linked all of them. The hivemind's network grew until it was fully on display in the single room. Normally, the 15 or 16 billion humans wouldn't fit in a single room. But Space didn't care about those rules. Bodies crossed without intersection, and a pale apparition of the hivemind appeared over them.
Incredibly, Penny and several other humans were a level 'above' the rest, though Lecalicus recognized only Penny, Tsonga, and Nichole. They almost looked like nodes in the hivemind's network, really. Penny was still gently connected, though nothing of substance could be shared over such an extreme distance, especially within any reasonable time frame.
The hivemind's glowing colors brightened, and Space grew concerned. Lecalicus watched as her grip on the conceptual power weakened slightly. The hivemind's arm twitched. The 'nodes' began to vibrate as their expressions became ones of immense determination. Small pockets of effort bubbled up in a rippling wave across the hivemind, separating into distinct blocks.
Lecalicus noticed a block of humans that were smaller than normal. Tens of thousands of fetuses, with stronger genetics than usual. He smiled.
Cloning.
He'd keep that a secret. He couldn't afford an interference penalty, and Penny might really kill him if he leaked the existence of a human cloning project.
How odd, that I now fear her, he mused. It spoke both to how far he'd fallen, and how far she'd risen.
Each block began to coordinate, all without the humans inside them knowing. The nodes did, though, and kept fighting. Space shrugged and released the vision. The room returned to normal, and they shared a long, contemplative silence.
Lecalicus loved a good wait when it didn't leave him nothing to distract himself from the dull ache of his pain and the jolts of power Death sent into him to keep requiring Space's treatment. She sucked in a breath of the gas which filled the room, which had properties Lecalicus didn't understand. Calling it 'air' didn't really cut it.
"So that was enlightening. Humanity is more powerful than I hoped."
"The hivemind," Lecalicus said. "She is still connected to it, and thus every heap of power she gains attaches a scrap of the Liberator name to all of Humanity. Champion is weak as a title, but Liberator is strong. Too strong for her own good."
"What does that mean for her, and for us?"
"For us? It means we might be seeing some more freedom here soon. But for them? Fire, dust, and blood."
"Is that why?" Space asked.
"Why what?"
"Why Indrafabar is on the trial."
"It might be a reason. I don't know his exact motivations, and can only approximate. Part of his reason could be 'because I can' or to express his power as a Progenitor to force even Justicar to move on his own planet to make room for him in the highest profile trial he's had in thousands of years. Indrafabar's ego is not dormant, let's just say. But I would expect Penny's actions to come up in the trial.
Remember, all Yasihaut, the Challenger, has to prove to the court is that the Defendant, Penny, is a threat to the Sprilnav, and successfully lump the Alliance. If she manages to convict Penny alone, it would cause problems for her."
"How?"
"Because if Penny knew she was about to die, and was in the room with her most hated rival, do you really think conceptual armor would stop Penny from killing her this time? She already has a weapon capable of breaching that armor, and the strength to wield it. With two utterances, she could get it and then ensure it reaches Yasihaut."
"It would be a foolish decision."
"To kill a rival in one's final breath is the dream of many, alien or Sprilnav. But the court will not be partial toward the Alliance, that is for sure. Penny will have an uphill battle, and Phoebe is not allowed to represent her for this one either. As for the Judgment, it is a trial that will be harder to keep fact-based than the last one, which ended up in a massive battle and the crippling of me and Twilight, the abduction of Nilnacrawla, and even the extra pushes by the AIs of the Alliance along the Path. Speaking of which, there has been a development with Edu'frec."
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"What am I looking at?" Edu'frec asked. Gaia had taken his android to a small room with a single holographic projector connected to a power outlet. The room was generally devoid of any other features, with grey drywall and a concrete floor. The ceiling was also concrete, poured quickly by construction robots.
He narrowed their location to several cities within the Guulin Congressional Republic, the only area with so much of this housing. It was where the freed Guulin slaves from the United Legions had gone, a new nation shaped mostly around the Hudson Bay, for which Canada had ceded in an agreement they were still getting paid back handsomely.
In fact, the Guulin Congressional Republic's economy was outpacing even those of the Pan-Andes Union and China together. It was on its way to adding India and America to the list of nations its combined GDP would surpass.
With the unique economic system Phoebe had helped President Blistanna pioneer, the pittance of money available to pay everyone for their work was enough for them to survive. Phoebe subsidized the entire nation with her vast wealth and workforce, building housing, meat factories, additional production facilities for desalinated water, and specialized city foundations.
Essentially, the entire nation was a single metropolis wrapping around the Bay, glowing as bright as the economic cores of the richest nations on Earth. Given their past conditions, the Guulin's reception was broadly warm. Blistanna's outreach and diplomacy efforts had ensured that every nation on Earth and Luna recognized the Republic and allowed Guulin to immigrate or visit with visas.
It was reflected in the North American Hub Airport, which had nearly 30,000 planes arriving and departing from its roughly 200 runways. Technically, the airport was 20 smaller complexes arrayed in the general Winisk area along the beach.
The city had been built to accommodate the number of flying planes, with an array of monorails and hotels near the edges of the airport, complete with shielding layers for noise cancellation and protection measures. The greater array of shields around the Republic also shined brightly in the sky.
Using his eyes, he could even see the reflected light underneath the door, even on the concrete. All his thoughts and analysis had taken less than a second. That was much the same as before his risky encounter with the power of his own mind turning against him. Edu'frec was wary of such experiences again and watched himself with many vigilant VI programs. The most important points of failure last time were the data veins, so several thousand VIs had been jointly made by him and Phoebe precisely to address that.
They weren't directly managed by Edu'frec, which should allow them to continue their operations and transform them if he went into collapse again. Phoebe's concern over him continued to dominate her mind, and it showed no signs of stopping.
He was glad that she loved him so much. Not everyone was as lucky as him, and a parent like her was wonderful. Ri'frec's eccentricities meant they'd grown apart a bit as Edu'frec had gotten older, but their relationship was also loving. Sadly, it could never be as deep as the one with Phoebe because there was just so much that Ri'frec couldn't know and understand.
Even the pace of their conversations reflected that, as did Ri'frec's moderate inferiority complex to Phoebe which he knew about and was seeking counseling for. It was inevitable, though Edu'frec hoped that he could get what he needed, considering the rising costs of counseling and therapy these days.
Phoebe subsidized those, too.
"This is the rough area where the planet cracker hit Earth several years ago. I've been monitoring the energy and consistency of the plates here, and I'm seeing some worrying upwelling in the crust," Gaia said. The hologram showed a topographic map of the Atlantic Ocean, centered on the North American Basin and with the edge of the mid-ocean ridge in view.
Several areas resembling an impact crater remained from the desperate scramble to save Earth from a planet cracker impact. Much of the ocean's topography had been altered since most of the protective efforts were saved for a perimeter area around the impact before the energy delivered could punch through the mantle to deliver its powerful impact to the planetary core.
"So we'll see a new mountain range in several millennia?"
That was what the data showed. The eastern edges of the North American Plate and the western edges of the African and Eurasian Plates had fractured into dozens of smaller pieces, generating massive earthquakes every few months in the region. In some places, the lateral movement of the larger plates outward as pulling on the smaller ones rotationally, making them rotate slowly into the other plates that could only subduct or buckle in response after large earthquakes. It was just another small thing that had changed since the beginning of all this mess with the First Contact.
Luckily, the zone was underwater, and the city and national shields every inhabited landmass on the planet were equipped with ensured all the tsunamis could do was splash against them. Some were very big waves, too, which would have killed thousands in floods.
It had also required shields to be placed on tethered platforms in the sea connected to the seafloor by a series of heavy anchors, which generated shields to both disrupt the waves and provide safe travel corridors for cargo ships.
"No. The Mid-Atlantic Ridge is still fractured, but all I can see is that there is movement in the crust which cannot be explained by our current theories. Now that our shields are capable of it, and with my power having grown so large, we can conduct vertical expeditions and topographic mapping of the actual rock itself. That is what I want to do, because I believe there is an object of non-natural origin responsible for some of the earthquakes we have seen."
Lists of earthquakes from thousands of 7 and 8 Richter scale movements to the roughly monthly 9 and above earthquakes appeared.
"I specifically believe that the 9.7 and above earthquakes are not natural generations. There should not be enough energy between the plates to generate that level of energy where they are being made. Including the 10.5 which resulted in the loss of nearly half the shield platforms two years ago, along with several plate fractures. Alone, they suggest a pattern which coincides roughly with the perigee of Luna."
He checked the data, and it mostly panned out. He gave Gaia a small nod but then spoke on the point he'd noticed.
"But only roughly."
"Yes. Its period is off by a small but significant time, though the current ones correspond to a far older Lunar orbital cycle, which would line up perfectly with the perigee of the Lunar orbit as of roughly 65 million years ago."
They paused to let Edu'frec absorb the meaning of that. And it was true, too. The timeframe they'd mentioned was worrying, though. When things lined up with mass extinctions and violent upheaval in the past, it wasn't a good sign. Sometimes, treating the world like it was a story was the better option. Fate was real, and the tropes seen in stories had happened before.
Edu'frec was sure that eventually, the old enemies who had escaped the Alliance would return once again: Exii'darii, Yasihaut, Aphid, the fleet of generals and commanders who had left Izkrala and never returned for an unknown reason. Reality could be and was altered by incredibly powerful entities, which had the ability and willingness to do so again. Time rolled back damage from their future wars. Luck determined many nebulous things, as did Fate.
Neither of them were as absent as they appeared. Universal entities had been crammed into a scant few galaxies. The idea that they wouldn't meddle in every aspect of it had long been disproven. So the alignment was a bad sign. He readied all known data on the extinction, from the asteroid to the earlier volcanic eruptions before it.
Even wilder theories of direct alien interventions and occupations on Earth were not discounted. Since it seemed everyone could inhabit the same planets with few exceptions like the Pselpaw and Dreedeen, Earth as a habitable world would have been a target of colonial efforts by any nearby nations or those whom the Sprilnav had not managed to contact to impose a system limit.
Ironically, the system limits also greatly lessened the number of wars between galactic nations. The Alliance would be forced to uphold this system if it overthrew them until a better alternative could be implemented, like merging some of those nations.
"So... what are you saying?"
"I believe there is an alien object dating back to the Cretaceous Extinction. There are references to something that could be similar in my memories."
"So you came here in an some sort of transport, then?"
"I am not sure," Gaia admitted, their eyes flicking downward. "My earliest memories are highly spotty, and I know at least some are artificial. However, I can trace my existence on Earth back at least 40 million years, so it is not impossible that my origin is tied to this object, or perhaps others like it. Maybe the planet cracker activated it through direct impact somehow."
Edu'frec absorbed that. The information was shocking and it was a little worrying that it was coming out now. The secrecy might have been warranted, but he knew there was more he had yet to hear. He gave Gaia an expectant look, and they settled upon a small chair.
"Do you have evidence of any ancient civilizations inhabiting Earth at the time?"
"No. Earth has remained untouched for at least that 50 million years, perhaps longer. Though the date of the Cretaceous extinction also lines up to a worrying degree with how far back the Source's location in the mindscape moved here. In fact, the Source almost seems like it is deliberately staying near Earth. The galaxy's rotation, as well as the Sol system's individual movement and Earth's orbit logically should mean the location changes over time. But it does not. The bones have been here for at least that long, perhaps down to the exact time. I have no finite data to support my following theories, but I think they are important for me to tell you, and more so for you to keep secret."
"Very well," Edu'frec agreed. "I can keep a secret, as long as it does not endanger the Alliance."
Gaia considered his caveat, then nodded. Several locks of hair fell in front of their chest before psychic energy moved it back to Gaia's back. Their glittering black eyes and light green skin looked quite menacing. Of course, he only observed that. Most of his negative emotions were still locked away, as he had no need for them.
"I believe the Source has a limited ability to predict the future. It also has complete control of the mindscape, especially in the deeper levels. So my theory is that the Source came here to attack something, and that it is still here because of us. Us as in Humanity, the Alliance, Penny. There is a dark secret in the Earth, one which we must uncover."
"And that the Cretaceous extinction was actually the Source's attempt to either kill or seal something that was here, and is related to you in some way?"
"Yes. And do you notice how much time Paizma and John spend by the oceans?"
"That is hardly evidence."
He knew what they were going for but wanted to ensure that there was at least some sound information behind it before he committed. Generally, he could arrive at conclusions quickly and form detailed algorithms for detecting which data was relevant and which wasn't. Recently, he'd developed a few algorithms that could actually incorporate a meaningful relevance scale.
It was something that many had been capable of before him, even with VIs. However, the scale of the data he worked with required high degrees of accuracy in the number and a truly quantifiable difference between a piece of data with 76.27362% and 76.27364% relevancy, for example. And the quantity had to be something he and Phoebe could intrinsically understand and use in their common applications.
Sadly, the other AIs in the Alliance, like Cander, Greenfly, and Blackfly, could not process such large amounts of data. He'd seen the terms 'static' and 'active' AI to separate them.
"Yes, but Paizma is four-dimensional. That means she can see a far larger part of Earth than we can, including the inside. In fact, with four-dimensional geometry involved, all of her locations would have been capable of viewing the Mid-Atlantic. We don't know who she really is, or the upper limit of her power. She was made by the Sprilnav. Is it not possible that her reason for interest is that she detects a danger or a threat nearby?"
"It is possible," Edu'frec admitted. He'd considered her Sprilnav origins far more than almost anyone else. He knew that if she was a threat, the Alliance needed a way to fight her and win. Because if she wasn't, the Sprilnav could make more enemies like her. Clandestine research into 4-dimensional detection systems and arrays was ongoing, though the only way they were even possible was with either speeding space energy or psychic energy.
Edu'frec knew that Paizma had psychic energy, at least, meaning it was a medium capable of interaction with the fourth spatial dimension. "Though that part of your theory is the weakest. It is likely suspicion talking. It is just like how the soul-creatures deeper in the mindscape resemble dragons in many ways. A neat coincidence, but there is no direct evidence saying that is what people actually managed to see. However, your theory is highly concerning. Do you believe you were put here as a response to whatever was or is here by an outside threat?"
"I do not, but I also admit that is possible," Gaia said. "I don't know what I am, though I didn't take a human form before meeting Humanity in general."
"Can you show me your previous forms?"
Gaia did so. Edu'frec logged each one and took a further interest in all of them. He ran them through every single image he had on file, and besides heaps of VI-generated data from the early 2030s, there were no similarities. He checked more datasets provided by Phoebe's espionage efforts in the wider galaxy.
"Is that..."
He parsed a new set of images from a very worrying location. Historical records bequeathed from the People's Autonomous Stars. Kashaunta's nation.
"What?" Gaia asked nervously. "What is it?"
"You're..."
"Just spit it out."
"You're a psychic golem. Made from shredded souls melted by torture and atrocity."
Gaia blinked. They crossed their arms, descending deep into thought for 10 minutes. They were clearly re-examining their life and all the steps that led up to this point. Edu'frec could imagine how much of a shock that would be.
Eventually, Gaia steadied their emotions, and their gaze fell intensely on Edu'frec's eyes.
"From who?" It was a demand laced with abject desperation and nearly full to bursting with curiosity. With thousands or millions of years with no new information, how would Gaia feel anything else?
"A Sprilnav splinter regime that was eventually destroyed in a very large galactic war, one responsible for the destruction of over 3 million nations and several quintillion deaths. The reason the Sprilnav list for the war was 'morally bankrupt practices and rituals so illegal the Everlasting himself fought by our side.' Given that the Elders who wrote that reasoning have associated death tolls in the quadrillions, that's quite concerning."
Edu'frec read the more detailed descriptions given of the atrocities that occurred. Abject horror and disgust broke his emotional locks. He created a few thousand VIs to get a handle on them. But the emotions were so powerful they were never completely subdued, either.
He saw people being marched by the millions into machines glittering with psychic energy, with thick wires emanating from them. Then he got to the video footage of the interiors. They were designed to extract as much suffering as possible from living beings. The very first part was 'processing' where the ending digits - tentacle tips, horn tips, fingers, toes, hooves, claws, and even beaks and vestigial graspers - were cut from the victims with dulled saws and fed to them.
The depraved accounts only worsened. Acid. Cooking. Flaying. Slow dismemberment, while being subjected to the other three. More atrocities, which alone were evil things, but together made a regime unique in its terrible, meticulous, and industrialized genocides. Edu'frec split his mind in half to deal with the disgust and revulsion rippling through him like the winds of a hurricane.
They flashed with every new recorded scream, squeal, and squeak. Many of his androids released their finer movements to the control of VI assistant programs, and his data veins started to swell. Soon, fifteen thousand digital strokes hit his mind. Dedicated programs cut them apart, along with the piling data on the deep level of distress starting to overwhelm his defenses.
"So what did they do?"
Edu'frec was silent for a whole five seconds. He limited the scope of what he would say before proceeding. Phoebe checked in on him, and he sent her a small packet of information on what he'd found. It was the first data packet he'd ever assigned to the maximum level of content warning between him and Phoebe: a 10. He also added a note that it would be an 11 if the scale was to be properly adjusted.
Manes shook across the Sol system as androids rebooted. Phoebe gave him a digital nod and helped him purge his systems of the filth polluting them. Even more concerning, there was a residual conceptual effect to it. It was weak, but strong for an event tens of millions of years old.
Though now, Edu'frec knew why, at a terrible cost.
"They managed to breach the Source's afterlife and caused the death of nearly a tenth of the Sprilnav inside it and all of the ancient species prior to the Source war that managed to survive there. More specifically, they figured out a way to generate power using the power of living and dead souls, and managed to kill a Progenitor before Nova took their power source for himself and detonated their stars in supernovae.
Apparently the Stannic Resistance's leaders are all still alive, and being continually imbued with Conceptual Suffering by the Source. You, Gaia, were made by them. I believe the reason you are on Earth is because the Source is here, and this is the best location in the galaxy to influence the afterlife, or to destroy it. It also happens to be very close to their prison. The bones of the Source are their prison, in fact. If this has to relate to the device buried in the oceanic crust... this is a threat I am required to disclose."
Gaia nodded. Their eyes blinked away tears. "Don't tell them how I was made if you don't have to. I would rather not be seen like that."
"I won't," Edu'frec promised. He grabbed Gaia's hands, looking into their worried eyes. "We'll get through this together. You saved my life. It's time for me to pay you back."
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
"What do you think?" Space asked. "It does seem like Indrafabar is practicing interference."
"The boundary is beyond this," Lecalicus said. "He is participating as a High Judge, not a Progenitor. And yes, the lines will be muddier, but there needs to be a higher backing for this trial besides Justicar alone. The rest of Sprilnav society and Indrafabar himself knows this. Technically, Nova and Filnatra are also High Judges, but they have avoided this trial entirely for the reasons of their bias. Indrafabar had a bit of rapport after his prior run-in with Penny on the flagship."
"But that is not for you to decide."
"This is a Sprilnav Judgment, and Justicar himself has allowed it. He is able to avoid Progenitor mental manipulations by the sheer size of his mind. Only Nova could control him, and imperfectly at that. I assume that the rest of the concept entities know this as well."
"But he is interfering in the affairs of the Sprilnav."
"He is a Sprilnav," Lecalicus said. "Unlike with Nova or Twilight, I have confidence in his impartiality in this case."
He cringed as yet another piece of Death's energy wracked his soul. Penny's attempt to heal him had done nearly nothing in the end, sadly. Lecalicus hoped that she would become more capable later on, though it was a bit much for her to stand against the full weight of Death at her young age, with her paltry capabilities.
They were impressive on a local timeframe, but that didn't mean she wasn't weak. If even Nova wasn't able to dispel Lecalicus' pain, as the other Progenitor had messaged him, then it was unlikely that Penny could do so in his place. And it was probably more important for her to focus on the Judgment and freeing the slaves on Justicar.
Lecalicus was still very tired, though. Weakness and lethargy clung to his bones. They were weak and brittle now, and he suspected that he would die if he was hit by a planet cracker in his current state. Space's energy counteracted Death's brutality, forcibly displacing his energy and dumping it into a black hole, which only she or Time could retrieve energy from. In fact, she had a small black hole in the room, though it was separated from him by a spatial barrier. A portal allowed the light from its accretion disk to dimly shine so he could see without being burned by the heat.
It was a massive statement of power, though Space had even more than that. Had Death's attack been a single thing, Lecalicus would have been rid of it by now. But it wasn't. It was a continuous, agonizing punishment, siphoned from the raw power Death now had from the deaths of countless beings across the universe after the Source war.
"Justicar is friendly overall to Penny," Space said. "That means Indrafabar will oppose him."
"Why do you think that?"
"It would be a good reason for him to be there. To uphold the standards of the elite Sprilnav classes."
"You forget that Indrafabar is their voice, too," Lecalicus replied. A thin trickle of blood ran from his snout, which Space started to heal. "Even more than Kashaunta as an Elder. She is the second richest Sprilnav, and he is the first. His title, the Digital King, rings as a true one in many nations that reserve a spot for his absolute rule, mostly to benefit from name-brand recognition and many Elders' lack of willingness to test themselves against a defending Progenitor.
That's how he started, after all. Selling his protection to Elders who couldn't afford to risk shunning it or him. Many of his deals provide a constant stream of income, and with the civil wars he refuses to interfere in between nations, he backs both ways; he can get new contract offers all the time. If I were not insane or more focused on politics, I could do the same thing.
Us Progenitors just have to ask for something to get it, but Indrafabar manufactures goodwill by at least compensating people for what he buys. Do you really think that I used money to pay for my food or drinks during the days of my insanity? That the revolving door of wives I had were being compensated in any way besides my own endowments? I would say not."
"Yet, they are dead now," Space said, a smile quirking on her lips. "They are dead, and I have you all to myself now."
"Yes, but we can't enjoy that currently. The risk is too high."
"I know. Tell me, Lecalicus. If Indrafabar is the voice of the elite, what happens if another Progenitor disagrees?"
"They won't publically. That weakens our collective image and reputation. Other Progenitors are honorary members of the elite, such as me, Nova, Twilight, Maya, Filnatra, and Arneladia, but only Twilight, Nova, and Filnatra likely have any true membership. They have stores of wealth in the top 2% of Elders, which is enough to get by without demanding anything."
"And your wealth?"
"You would know about that, Space. Considering how I have gotten it in the past."
He let out a hacking cough, clearing his vision again by tearing out his eyes and regrowing them. The numbed pain meant it was easy for him, and Space had seen that many times now. Twilight likely enjoyed the limb ripping more than he did, though.
"Yes, by teleporting gold and alloys from several nation's federal reserves, generally causing massive economic problems inside them after the news leaked. I remember."
"Mine is in the top 35%. It is far harder to amass the wealth Elders have when they have lived for billions of years trying to make more of it. Often, even the poorest Elders can make a fortune through inheritances, or by literally just working a job for a billion years. A salary of a million credits a year for a billion years would equal a quadrillion credits, after all."
"How do you all not go insane?"
"The same way you guys don't. Our emotions of boredom and those related to it can be numbed or eliminated on command. Elders have lots of time to train their minds and bodies. Progenitors do more, refining our very souls to be resilient. It is how Twilight survived the black hole, and why I supposedly can destroy the universe if I go on a sufficiently furious rampage."
"The reason you can do that is because to raise your levels of conceptual energy to alter reality requires direct input from the soul. At your levels you can take that from the prospective 'end' of your lives, burning years or eons for bursts of power. Of course, the problem is that you are immortal. So even if you go insane and are in constant pain from a shattered soul, even the pieces are enough to power the rampage. And the soul is more than just psychic energy."
"Yes," Lecalicus agreed. "That is what you all say. But that is not why we're here, either. It is about Indrafabar. He has done perhaps the least outwardly visible interference of any Progenitors in contact with Penny. As much as any of us can be, he is a good man. In certain circumstances, I would trust him with my life."
"And which would you not?" Space asked, raising an eyebrow like humans did. She was wearing the form of one, though with a sense of overwhelming weight and scale to her that was typical of her more powerful forms. It was needed to influence Death's grip on Lecalicus at all.
"If his or Nova's was at stake as well, and the cost of their survival was my life. Nearly every sentient creature, and many animals as well, would prioritize their own survival over any other, and Indrafabar is a Progenitor because of Nova. That is not a debt that can be paid back, no matter how many times he saves Nova's life."
"And how many did he do that again?"
"Around 10 to 20 times, all during the Source war. Past that, nothing. Nova is entirely biological, so it isn't like an AI could hack him. Though one could connect to him through psychic energy, and attack him that way as a psychic variant of AI like Phoebe or Narvravarana."
"Isn't that a threat?"
"Nova's conceptual name is the Everlasting among the Sprilnav," Lecalicus said. "He is the most powerful being in the universe who was actually born of a womb or of any creator. Invading his mind is so laughably foolish even Narvravarana never tried it more than once when they almost went to war."
"I heard of that," Space said. "But I do not understand why that is impossible."
"If you move slower than light, can you escape the inside of a black hole purely by motion?"
"No. Well, a hypothetical person could not. I could, because I'm built different."
Lecalicus chuckled. "Yes. Well, trying to take over Nova's mind is like trying to walk out of a black hole. He is conceptually powerful enough to have his own event horizon in his mind he can create with psychic energy. He can close off, and everything inside will die.
One creature has survived even temporary imprisonment in there, and it is a speeding space entity of the Broken God's Pantheon. But while Nova is the pinnacle of all life, that does not mean he does not want our help when we can give it. I know you two aren't exactly friendly, but he really does mean well. He just doesn't know what he wants sometimes, and his ego and emotions get in the way of his prudence."
"Indrafabar's involvement on the trial is not acceptable."
"It is not optimal, Space. But if the trial is not seen as fair by the elites, they will declare it void. That has happened before. Kashaunta's predecessor as the richest non-Elder died that way. He ran out of allies, and even Justicar's token objection to the violation of the trial rules was ignored. There comes a point where only the social contract holds back the fury of hatred. If this Judgment, the talk of every household in the Secondary Galaxy and soon in a Primary Galaxy meeting, is seen as illegitimate, it will have dire consequences.
Rebellions, rogue nations. Yasihaut's backers would happily sanction an attack against the Alliance to drive a wedge between Penny and Kashaunta. Now they know there is some tension thanks to their treaty meeting, which Valisada recorded. And they know that Pennyonly grows more powerful. Look at her power, and you can see."
Space did so. Her eyes glazed over, and Lecalicus worked in a cough that had been building up for a while.
"What is that?"
"Her new name among the Sprilnav, spoken by everyone aware of her. The Liberator."
"But the recursive effect alone-"
"Will be massive. But look closer," Lecalicus told her.
"What- oh."
Space was silent for a long moment. Ghostly images of random humans appeared in the room. Small glimmers of psychic and conceptual power linked all of them. The hivemind's network grew until it was fully on display in the single room. Normally, the 15 or 16 billion humans wouldn't fit in a single room. But Space didn't care about those rules. Bodies crossed without intersection, and a pale apparition of the hivemind appeared over them.
Incredibly, Penny and several other humans were a level 'above' the rest, though Lecalicus recognized only Penny, Tsonga, and Nichole. They almost looked like nodes in the hivemind's network, really. Penny was still gently connected, though nothing of substance could be shared over such an extreme distance, especially within any reasonable time frame.
The hivemind's glowing colors brightened, and Space grew concerned. Lecalicus watched as her grip on the conceptual power weakened slightly. The hivemind's arm twitched. The 'nodes' began to vibrate as their expressions became ones of immense determination. Small pockets of effort bubbled up in a rippling wave across the hivemind, separating into distinct blocks.
Lecalicus noticed a block of humans that were smaller than normal. Tens of thousands of fetuses, with stronger genetics than usual. He smiled.
Cloning.
He'd keep that a secret. He couldn't afford an interference penalty, and Penny might really kill him if he leaked the existence of a human cloning project.
How odd, that I now fear her, he mused. It spoke both to how far he'd fallen, and how far she'd risen.
Each block began to coordinate, all without the humans inside them knowing. The nodes did, though, and kept fighting. Space shrugged and released the vision. The room returned to normal, and they shared a long, contemplative silence.
Lecalicus loved a good wait when it didn't leave him nothing to distract himself from the dull ache of his pain and the jolts of power Death sent into him to keep requiring Space's treatment. She sucked in a breath of the gas which filled the room, which had properties Lecalicus didn't understand. Calling it 'air' didn't really cut it.
"So that was enlightening. Humanity is more powerful than I hoped."
"The hivemind," Lecalicus said. "She is still connected to it, and thus every heap of power she gains attaches a scrap of the Liberator name to all of Humanity. Champion is weak as a title, but Liberator is strong. Too strong for her own good."
"What does that mean for her, and for us?"
"For us? It means we might be seeing some more freedom here soon. But for them? Fire, dust, and blood."
"Is that why?" Space asked.
"Why what?"
"Why Indrafabar is on the trial."
"It might be a reason. I don't know his exact motivations, and can only approximate. Part of his reason could be 'because I can' or to express his power as a Progenitor to force even Justicar to move on his own planet to make room for him in the highest profile trial he's had in thousands of years. Indrafabar's ego is not dormant, let's just say. But I would expect Penny's actions to come up in the trial.
Remember, all Yasihaut, the Challenger, has to prove to the court is that the Defendant, Penny, is a threat to the Sprilnav, and successfully lump the Alliance. If she manages to convict Penny alone, it would cause problems for her."
"How?"
"Because if Penny knew she was about to die, and was in the room with her most hated rival, do you really think conceptual armor would stop Penny from killing her this time? She already has a weapon capable of breaching that armor, and the strength to wield it. With two utterances, she could get it and then ensure it reaches Yasihaut."
"It would be a foolish decision."
"To kill a rival in one's final breath is the dream of many, alien or Sprilnav. But the court will not be partial toward the Alliance, that is for sure. Penny will have an uphill battle, and Phoebe is not allowed to represent her for this one either. As for the Judgment, it is a trial that will be harder to keep fact-based than the last one, which ended up in a massive battle and the crippling of me and Twilight, the abduction of Nilnacrawla, and even the extra pushes by the AIs of the Alliance along the Path. Speaking of which, there has been a development with Edu'frec."
2024.05.12 23:55 PolarLeopard Jason Voorhees NRS-Era Armageddon Overview/Brutality Poll
Series of Origin:Friday the 13th
Paula Shaw playing Pamela Voorhees' ghost for intros?
Starting intro is the same as MKX with Jason Voorhees dragging in a woman's body with his machete lodged in her skull before yanking it out.
Opposing Intro is Jason Voorhees not moving with a decayed appearance before his heart starts beating and brings back his regular appearance slowly.
Outro is Jason Voorhees dropping his machete or axe or opening up his hand before grabbing a fence post lying nearby and stabbing it through the camera with a loud scream, static, and bloodspatter as he kills the cameraman.
X-Ray:The Horror kept with Jason dropping his axe to draw a machete from the ground in the Improvised Weapons Variation before retrieving it afterwards.
Slasher and Unstoppable kept. When you think of Jason Voorhees, the machete is one of the most iconic things about him so that's a clear lock-in for one of the two kept Variations and the fact that he never stays dead for long makes Unstoppable the second clear choice for me. Relentless just lacks anything that iconic to Jason for me but feel free to say which two Variations you would keep in the comments.
I plan on keeping a move from whichever Variation gets cut so Slasher's Psycho Slash would replace Choke, Relentless' Lake Mist would replace Tight Squeeze, and Unstoppable's Resurrection would replace Killing Machine in the standard Signature Moves.
Throw is the same as MKX for the backwards throw except for the Improvised Slaughter Variation which has Jason Voorhees throw the opponent to the ground, chop into their groin with his axe, and then hack into their neck before kicking them in the face to slide them away.
The forwards throw has Jason Voorhees stab the opponent's chest with his machete before dragging it out and smacking them away from him with the blunt side in the Slasher Variation, grab both of their arms and pull as a loud tearing sound echoes before punching them in the chest to send them flying in the Relentless or Unstoppable Variations, and hacking into the opponent's side with his axe before yanking it out and throwing a dart in their eye to make them stagger back in the Improvised Slaughter Variation.
Gear-
Masks including the Battleworn Mask from Freddy vs. Jason, Blackgold Mask from Mortal Kombat X, Cracked Mask from The New Blood, and Classic Mask from Jason Lives.
Taunts-
Jason Voorhees leans his body forward to stare at the opponent before tilting to his head to the left and then the right before going back into his fighting position.
Jason Voorhees quickly looks at the downed opponent before walking away and turns back around to face them.
Jason Voorhees stares at his machete, clenched fist, or axe while Pamela's ghost says "Punish them, Jason." or "They deserve death."
Jason Voorhees walks backwards into mist before reappearing with a man's head (Chad from the F13 game?) that he shows off before tossing it to the side
. Signature Moves-
Killing Machine:Same as MKX except takes one bar of meter to use but now has Jason Voorhees not fall asleep afterwards. There is a cooldown between uses however.
Temple Punch:Same as MKX.
Choke:Same as MKX.
Back Breaker:Same as MKX.
Tight Squeeze:Same as MKX.
Slasher Variation:Jason Voorhees' iconic appearance from Freddy vs. Jason with him bringing his iconic machete into battle.
Signature Moves-
Bloodshed:Same as MKX and still replaces Choke.
Machete Toss:Same as MKX.
Shoulder Push:Same as MKX and still replaces Temple Punch.
Psycho Slash:Same as MKX.
Relentless Variation:Jason's previous appearance from MKX with no weapons but his bare hands.
Signature Moves-
Lake Mist:Same as MKX.
Pursuit:Same as MKX except takes one bar of meter to use and has no enhanced version but attacking Jason Voorhees does not end the effect prematurely anymore.
Damned:Same as MKX.
Unstoppable Variation:Jason Voorhees' decaying appearance from The New Blood with a chain around his neck and only his bare hands as his weapons.
Signature Moves-
Punishment:Same as MKX except takes one bar of meter to use and has no enhanced version.
Rise:Same as MKX and still replaces Killing Machine except takes one bar of meter to use and has no enhanced version but keeps the super meter recharge effect.
Resurrection:Same as MKX.
Improvised Slaughter Variation:Jason Voorhees' undead appearance from Jason Lives with him bringing a single-bladed axe as his weapon.
Signature Moves-
Tree-Trimming:Jason Voorhees pulls out a tree-trimmer and swings it at the opponent, cutting open their torso for a moment before throwing it away. The enhanced version is called Dr. Crews is Calling and adds Jason grabbing the opponent to throw their face into the saw blade for a few moments before tossing his weapon away for enhanced damage.
Harpooned:Jason Voorhees pulls out a spear gun and fires it straight across the screen, impaling the opponent's chest if it connects. The enhanced version is called Eye-Scream and has Jason track the opponent before firing a spear at their eye for increased damage.
No Sex:Jason Voorhees charges forwards to slam his axe in the opponent's chest and throws them behind him with the blade still lodged in them, pulling on the handle until he wrenches his axe past their groin and free. The enhanced version is called No Drugs and adds Jason slamming his axe into the opponent's head after pulling it out their groin for enhanced damage and gives him a hit of armor. This move replaces Back Breaker.
Fatalities-
Kill for Mother kept.
Anything is a Weapon:Jason Voorhees picks the opponent up by the throat and starts choking them, making them spurt up blood from their mouth, before dropping them on the ground with them laying on their back as he walks away. A loud mechanical sound is heard and the opponent looks to their right to see Jason with a tree trimmer that he lowers and starts shredding up their torso with, making their intestines fly out.
Voorhees finally drops the tree trimmer and pulls out his axe, raising the blade high in the air with both hands and slamming it down on the opponent's head, splitting it in two, before stepping back to let the camera focus on the bloody mess he made.
Babality:Early Friday
Jason Voorhees transforms back into his human form but is now a baby and either tries to grab his machete or axe that is now lodged in the ground and tries to free it before falling on his back or clenches his fist and tries to throw a punch at the opponent that makes him land on his face before Pamela's ghost consoles him.
Friendship:Camp Trip
Jason Voorhees turns to leave and walks off as the screen switches to a Camp Crystal Lake sign as he drops his machete or axe if he has it in the dirt of the beach before putting on a life preserver and goes right into the water, paddling around on his belly and doing backstrokes while the Friendship balloons appear.
Brutalities-
The Klassic:Jason Voorhees performs an uppercut with his machete in his Slasher Variation but cleaves the opponent's face in two down the middle, leaving only a small part of their head still in one piece. In his Relentless and Unstoppable Variations, Jason performs an uppercut that knocks the opponent's skull out with the spine attached and sends it flying into the air as their body collapses into a kneeling position, the head crashing back down to the ground to burst into chunks a few seconds later.
The Improvised Slaughter Variation is the same as the Slasher Variation's version of the Klassic but performed with an axe uppercut instead.
Blunt Trauma:Same as MKX.
Go to Hell:Same as MKX but Jason Voorhees picks the opponent's head up with his free hand after decapitating them and holds it on his Brutality pose, dropping his axe to do so in the Improvised Slaughter Variation.
Blood Bath:Same as MKX. Only available in Slasher Variation.
Head Spin:Same as MKX. Only available in Relentless Variation.
Spinal Tap:Same as MKX. Only available in Unstoppable Variation.
Spearfishing:Jason Voorhees performs his Eye-Scream move but the spear completely punches through the back of the opponent's skull and gets lodged in their head as they futiley grab it to try to pull it out before collapsing to their knees and dying. Only available in Improvised Weapons Variation.
Brutality Poses and Quotes-
Jason Voorhees turns his head to face the camera while the "Ki ki, ma ma" theme plays before turning his whole body to continue facing the camera.
Jason Voorhees stares at the opponent's body as Pamela's ghost hugs him while saying "You've made mommy proud." or "Good boy, Jason."
Jason Voorhees stabs his machete or hacks his axe into the opponent's torso before putting his boot on the corpse to pull it out, satisfied that they're dead.
View Poll
submitted by PolarLeopard to MortalKombat [link] [comments]
Paula Shaw playing Pamela Voorhees' ghost for intros?
Starting intro is the same as MKX with Jason Voorhees dragging in a woman's body with his machete lodged in her skull before yanking it out.
Opposing Intro is Jason Voorhees not moving with a decayed appearance before his heart starts beating and brings back his regular appearance slowly.
Outro is Jason Voorhees dropping his machete or axe or opening up his hand before grabbing a fence post lying nearby and stabbing it through the camera with a loud scream, static, and bloodspatter as he kills the cameraman.
X-Ray:The Horror kept with Jason dropping his axe to draw a machete from the ground in the Improvised Weapons Variation before retrieving it afterwards.
Slasher and Unstoppable kept. When you think of Jason Voorhees, the machete is one of the most iconic things about him so that's a clear lock-in for one of the two kept Variations and the fact that he never stays dead for long makes Unstoppable the second clear choice for me. Relentless just lacks anything that iconic to Jason for me but feel free to say which two Variations you would keep in the comments.
I plan on keeping a move from whichever Variation gets cut so Slasher's Psycho Slash would replace Choke, Relentless' Lake Mist would replace Tight Squeeze, and Unstoppable's Resurrection would replace Killing Machine in the standard Signature Moves.
Throw is the same as MKX for the backwards throw except for the Improvised Slaughter Variation which has Jason Voorhees throw the opponent to the ground, chop into their groin with his axe, and then hack into their neck before kicking them in the face to slide them away.
The forwards throw has Jason Voorhees stab the opponent's chest with his machete before dragging it out and smacking them away from him with the blunt side in the Slasher Variation, grab both of their arms and pull as a loud tearing sound echoes before punching them in the chest to send them flying in the Relentless or Unstoppable Variations, and hacking into the opponent's side with his axe before yanking it out and throwing a dart in their eye to make them stagger back in the Improvised Slaughter Variation.
Gear-
Masks including the Battleworn Mask from Freddy vs. Jason, Blackgold Mask from Mortal Kombat X, Cracked Mask from The New Blood, and Classic Mask from Jason Lives.
Taunts-
Jason Voorhees leans his body forward to stare at the opponent before tilting to his head to the left and then the right before going back into his fighting position.
Jason Voorhees quickly looks at the downed opponent before walking away and turns back around to face them.
Jason Voorhees stares at his machete, clenched fist, or axe while Pamela's ghost says "Punish them, Jason." or "They deserve death."
Jason Voorhees walks backwards into mist before reappearing with a man's head (Chad from the F13 game?) that he shows off before tossing it to the side
. Signature Moves-
Killing Machine:Same as MKX except takes one bar of meter to use but now has Jason Voorhees not fall asleep afterwards. There is a cooldown between uses however.
Temple Punch:Same as MKX.
Choke:Same as MKX.
Back Breaker:Same as MKX.
Tight Squeeze:Same as MKX.
Slasher Variation:Jason Voorhees' iconic appearance from Freddy vs. Jason with him bringing his iconic machete into battle.
Signature Moves-
Bloodshed:Same as MKX and still replaces Choke.
Machete Toss:Same as MKX.
Shoulder Push:Same as MKX and still replaces Temple Punch.
Psycho Slash:Same as MKX.
Relentless Variation:Jason's previous appearance from MKX with no weapons but his bare hands.
Signature Moves-
Lake Mist:Same as MKX.
Pursuit:Same as MKX except takes one bar of meter to use and has no enhanced version but attacking Jason Voorhees does not end the effect prematurely anymore.
Damned:Same as MKX.
Unstoppable Variation:Jason Voorhees' decaying appearance from The New Blood with a chain around his neck and only his bare hands as his weapons.
Signature Moves-
Punishment:Same as MKX except takes one bar of meter to use and has no enhanced version.
Rise:Same as MKX and still replaces Killing Machine except takes one bar of meter to use and has no enhanced version but keeps the super meter recharge effect.
Resurrection:Same as MKX.
Improvised Slaughter Variation:Jason Voorhees' undead appearance from Jason Lives with him bringing a single-bladed axe as his weapon.
Signature Moves-
Tree-Trimming:Jason Voorhees pulls out a tree-trimmer and swings it at the opponent, cutting open their torso for a moment before throwing it away. The enhanced version is called Dr. Crews is Calling and adds Jason grabbing the opponent to throw their face into the saw blade for a few moments before tossing his weapon away for enhanced damage.
Harpooned:Jason Voorhees pulls out a spear gun and fires it straight across the screen, impaling the opponent's chest if it connects. The enhanced version is called Eye-Scream and has Jason track the opponent before firing a spear at their eye for increased damage.
No Sex:Jason Voorhees charges forwards to slam his axe in the opponent's chest and throws them behind him with the blade still lodged in them, pulling on the handle until he wrenches his axe past their groin and free. The enhanced version is called No Drugs and adds Jason slamming his axe into the opponent's head after pulling it out their groin for enhanced damage and gives him a hit of armor. This move replaces Back Breaker.
Fatalities-
Kill for Mother kept.
Anything is a Weapon:Jason Voorhees picks the opponent up by the throat and starts choking them, making them spurt up blood from their mouth, before dropping them on the ground with them laying on their back as he walks away. A loud mechanical sound is heard and the opponent looks to their right to see Jason with a tree trimmer that he lowers and starts shredding up their torso with, making their intestines fly out.
Voorhees finally drops the tree trimmer and pulls out his axe, raising the blade high in the air with both hands and slamming it down on the opponent's head, splitting it in two, before stepping back to let the camera focus on the bloody mess he made.
Babality:Early Friday
Jason Voorhees transforms back into his human form but is now a baby and either tries to grab his machete or axe that is now lodged in the ground and tries to free it before falling on his back or clenches his fist and tries to throw a punch at the opponent that makes him land on his face before Pamela's ghost consoles him.
Friendship:Camp Trip
Jason Voorhees turns to leave and walks off as the screen switches to a Camp Crystal Lake sign as he drops his machete or axe if he has it in the dirt of the beach before putting on a life preserver and goes right into the water, paddling around on his belly and doing backstrokes while the Friendship balloons appear.
Brutalities-
The Klassic:Jason Voorhees performs an uppercut with his machete in his Slasher Variation but cleaves the opponent's face in two down the middle, leaving only a small part of their head still in one piece. In his Relentless and Unstoppable Variations, Jason performs an uppercut that knocks the opponent's skull out with the spine attached and sends it flying into the air as their body collapses into a kneeling position, the head crashing back down to the ground to burst into chunks a few seconds later.
The Improvised Slaughter Variation is the same as the Slasher Variation's version of the Klassic but performed with an axe uppercut instead.
Blunt Trauma:Same as MKX.
Go to Hell:Same as MKX but Jason Voorhees picks the opponent's head up with his free hand after decapitating them and holds it on his Brutality pose, dropping his axe to do so in the Improvised Slaughter Variation.
Blood Bath:Same as MKX. Only available in Slasher Variation.
Head Spin:Same as MKX. Only available in Relentless Variation.
Spinal Tap:Same as MKX. Only available in Unstoppable Variation.
Spearfishing:Jason Voorhees performs his Eye-Scream move but the spear completely punches through the back of the opponent's skull and gets lodged in their head as they futiley grab it to try to pull it out before collapsing to their knees and dying. Only available in Improvised Weapons Variation.
Brutality Poses and Quotes-
Jason Voorhees turns his head to face the camera while the "Ki ki, ma ma" theme plays before turning his whole body to continue facing the camera.
Jason Voorhees stares at the opponent's body as Pamela's ghost hugs him while saying "You've made mommy proud." or "Good boy, Jason."
Jason Voorhees stabs his machete or hacks his axe into the opponent's torso before putting his boot on the corpse to pull it out, satisfied that they're dead.
View Poll
2024.05.12 21:17 rangernumberx Respect Phineas Mason, the Tinkerer (Marvel Comics, 616)
Some low level criminals want to buy some equipment just to make their next job easier. Others want to become a full on supervillain and have the ideas for their suit, but lack the ability to create it themselves. And some established supervillains just want an upgrade to help with their constant battles against the heroes of the world. All of them make their way to an unassuming fix-it shop in New York to employ the genius of the Terrible Tinkerer, who either for cash upfront or a cut of their profits will make whatever they wish. While Phineas Mason may often work in the background, that doesn't stop him from sometimes having to face superheroes himself, with Spider-Man being his most frequent adversary.
submitted by rangernumberx to respectthreads [link] [comments]
Legend
Creations
Notable Supervillain Clients
Suits - Upgrading- Repaired the Grizzly's suit after he was let out from prisonWeb#58
- Upgraded Whirlwind's suit with sawblades within an hour of him first arrivingCA-1#324
- Upgraded the suits and/or weapons of the Vulture, Boomerang, Shocker, Beetle, and WhiplashSp-2#300
- Fixes the Scorpion's tail, with it not being as powerful due to the extra modifications he made as requestedAF#79
- Makes a power-enhancing exosuit for HammerheadFF#233
- Using his client's knowledge, made the Binary Bug suitMM#11
- Creates a new suit for the original Beetle, according to his blueprintsDF#1
- Created suits for Stilt-Man and BlizzardShe#59
- Made equipment for ClashCW#3
- Duplicated the Vulture's suit after being sent the plansNM#86
- Made throwing diamonds for DiamondbackCA-1#369
- Works with Hobgoblin's weapons, recognizing them as Oscorp techASM#651
- Created Stinger's weaponsAv-1#180
- Arcade outsourced at least a claw machine trap to him, if not more, though he refused to pay for the Tinkerer's workSp-1#53
- Made Jack O'Lantern's flying platformShe#59
- Created Rocket Racer's equipment, going on the designs they gave himASM#182
- Created the original Big Wheel by repurposing another potential client's equipmentASM#182
- Follows given designs to make Goldbug's ship using advanced equipment, noting its intreguing circuitry concepts and that it only had enough fuel for a couple hours as designedIH#238
- S.H.I.E.L.D. has intelligence that he worked on equipment for Jester, Scorcher, and Grim ReaperSW#1
- Initially worked with Mysterio, though it's unclear how much gear he made for himSp-1#51
- Has a working relationship with the Trapster, though it's unclear if he made any of his equipmentCA-1#324
- Has also done work for the EnclaveDMH and the Maggia
Weaponry
Exo-Suit- A tank-like suit of armour activated through a watch-like device on his wrist, which Phineas floats in the middle ofSp-2#3
- Grabs Spider-Man and shoves him through the ceilingSp-2#4
- Grabs and throws carsSp-2#4
- Drives out of a high floor of a building, crashing to the ground without damageSp-2#4
- Fires an explosive projectileSp-2#4
- Creates a holographic decoy of Phineas while the real Tinkerer escapesSp-2#4
- Created a robotic suit which he used to pretend to be his own brother as he fixed gear for superheroesSp-2#299
- This suit is bulletproof and can change into a larger combat form, bursting through a wall and cratering the following oneSp-2#300
- This combat form is undamaged from having a car thrown on it by Spider-ManSp-2#300
- Appears to shock Spider-Man or otherwise force him back, allowing the Tinkerer to escapeSp-2#300
- Modified a giant Spider-Slayer for his purposes, which he dubs the Hero-SlayerSp-2#299
- Slams Spider-Man into the ground, damaging itSp-2#299
- Deactivates Vision as well as Falcon's, Black Panther's, and Ironheart's suits. While he had been fixing superheroes suits for a period, with Falcon explicitly being shown, he never touched Ironheart's armour, meaning while this may have been partially planning ahead there was also a general kill order released by the Hero-SlayerSp-2#299
- Uses a mech suit that seemingly grows back an arm that Spider-Man tears off, though it's unclear if he made it or the robotic species he was on the ship of at the timeSp-2#306
- Gives a person a wingsuit to fly with as well as two energy pistolsSp-2#3
- Created exo-suits that people wear while Scorpion's testing out his new tailASM#370
- Makes a beam weapon which could kill a normal person (though it only stuns Spider-Man) and another which destroys a machine's control panelASM#2
- Finishes destroying a robot which had just been fighting Luke CageCage#13
- Destroys his robot assistant Toy, which Spider-Man described as being virtually invulnerable outside of certain stress pointsSp-1#53
- Implied to have caused the destruction on a street, including breaking and overturning carsIA#2
- Energy cannons which can fell trees with their shotsAv-2#27
- A gauntlet which shoots energy beamsCA-2#6
- Gave his son micro-bombsRick
- A mine which creates an iono-magnetic wave in an area, momentarily stopping vehicles and knocking people out for several hoursSnap
- Made 'tech-enabled trick arrows' for HawkeyeSp-2#300
- Used a jack-in-the-box to spray gas on a person who triggered it, which causes a woman to see everyone as a living toySp-1#53
- Created a claw machine death trap which he used against Spider-ManSp-1#53
- Creates an add-on which uses phantom electrons to allow certain weapons to fire at double or triple speedASM#310
Robots
- Made a robot assistant named Toy who could lift the Spider-Mobile's engine with one handASM#159
- Tosses Spider-Man with one hand before getting punched back, having a brick wall crumble on top of himASM#160
- Turns his head before Spider-Man's web-shooters hit it at point-blank range, is described as being as far above Spider-Man's strength as the hero's strength is above the Tinkerer's, and is said by Spider-Man to be virtually invulnerable outside of certain stress pointsSp-1#53
- Used a propeller backpack to fly away without need for an external power sourceSp-1#53
- Made a robot which could fight Luke Cage while mimicking other villain's powers, setting fire to itself and releasing a thick tendril of wires from its armCage#13
- Made a robot which sprays acid to take down buildings, using this to burn through bedrock and escapeCable#65
- Creates a giant robot named the Alternator Bug-Bot, which can grow to three times its size, strike Thor away hard enough to break the top off a clock tower, and be deactivated through a control room in its headDC#1
- Invents androids to act as armed guardsWeb#79
- Glass automatons which punch Wolverine down a road, knocking a taxi into the airWA
- Army toys which fired actual ammunition, one shot blowing chunks off a brick wallSp-1#53
- Used a toy zeppelin to let off a flare, blinding Spider-ManSp-1
Transport
Spider-Mobile- Repaired Spider-Man's lost Spider-MobileASM#159
- Uses a web cannon to catch a falling Spider-Man, bundle him up, and yank him into the back seatASM#160
- Fires two web lines to make a bridge between buildingsASM#160
- Can drive up wallsASM#160
- It could be remote controlledASM#160
- He's said to have installed an autopilot in it, with Spider-Man using it at a later date to run into HobgoblinAR#1
- Created a tank which blows a hole in a jail wall with a blast and rams into the Hulk hard enough to break him through a brick wallIH#208
- Rocket bootsSp-2#300
- Modified his wheelchair to handle stairsWJ#16
- Constructs a teleportation deviceDMH
Bases
- Has what Whirlwind believes is a scanner before dropping a client into his lairCA-1#324
- Protects a base with electronic bolas, which release on a verbal commandNM#86
- Had approximately 250 weapons trained on a person from the moment they walked into a warehouse which could be triggers from two blinks in his left eyeCA-1#425
- A dome made of resisto-glass which traps Spider-Man inside before sucking all the air outASM#2
Other Wearables
- While in an interrogation room, his glasses hack Ironheart's suit after she removed its AI, allowing him to control it completelySp-2#306
- Power gloves which allows a person to telekinetically carry an ATMSnap
- Used a waist-bound device to disguise his appearanceD#4
- Made earrings that interact with the wearer's inner ear to act as 'balance compensators', allowing Black Cat can always land on her feetASM#370
- Mass produces badges based on what Doctor Octopus discovered in Spider-Man's trackersYO#4 which overload his spider-sense when activatedYO#5
Other
- His son uses gear the Tinkerer made to survive a large explosion with only two seconds noticeMs#37
- An energy blade which he uses while gardeningD#4
- Installs spy cameras in radios while fixing themASM#2
- Sells a supervillain surveillance equipment and traps for their baseCA-1#385
- Uses a device to open a metal gas-filled canister containing NitroNM#86
- Used a device to unlock a doorD#4
- Gives Black Cat audio implants which allows her to hear distant whispersWeb#84
- Makes a pacemaker-like device out of carbonadium to keep a person encased with adamantium aliveWO#15
- A pocket-sized device which turns someone invisible for two minutesMs#33
- Invented a gas which prevented Spider-Man from wall-crawling or using his web-shootersASM#160
- Creates a device which removes Spider-Man's powersASM#341
- Creates a mind-control device which affects a large amount of college students at onceSVU#18
- Invented a device which allows Ghost to use his powers over a cellular network, arriving anywhere he calls a phone atIM#21
- Hacked Starktech phones to make them untraceable and gave them to criminals around the world, with each one holding a unique AI to attract an alien species which judges civilizations depending on how they treat their AISp-2#300
- Created a non-obtrusive waterproofing agent which functions as realistic looking skin for robotsUG#9
Other
Repairs
- Identifies Spider-Man's new web mode was hindering his web-shooters' performance, giving them a clear coating to fix the issueSp-2#1
- Fixed Falcon's wings and repairs Scott Lang's helmet when it wouldn't allow him to grow back to full height, setting his 'base' height to one inch taller than normalSp-2#1
- Fixes a device which disguises the wearer as another person, though it can't be worn in the rain without breakingD#2
- Quickly repairs a wingsuit while he and its wearer are falling from a great heightSp-2#5
- Is shown to have done repairs for and potentially upgraded the equipment of a number of heroes while in disguise, including Vision and Black Panther, having also put in a kill command he later uses. However, as Ironheart hasn't interacted with him before, it's possible that these specific heroes were just caught in a general kill command released by his mechSp-2#299
- Repairs Reed Richard's transporter to bring the building they were in back from the Negative ZoneSI#3
Other Business Offerings
- Sometimes buys in equipment as opposed to making it himself, doing so with Super-Patriot's Captain America shieldCA-1#425
- Runs a respected auction for supervillains, selling reputable gearMK#6
- Forges an identity for the GibbonWJ#16
- Bonded adamantium to Cyber's skinWO#14
- Grafts portions of the Muramasa blade into Daken's arms, using Adamantium sheathes to account for their anti-biological effectsWO#36
Business Attitude
- Has a code phrase to determine if a customer is there for his villainous dealings, and accepts both cash and a cut of any resulting profitsASM#183
- Provides his customers with a warranty and care instructions for their new equipmentCA-1#324
- Checks his client's bank accounts to tell how much they can affordWeb#58
- Is sometimes willing to sell gear allowing criminals to use a specific villain's moniker, such as Stilt-ManWJ#26
- Will sabotage his own creations if he feels that his client will attempt to blackmail him into giving them over before full payment is receivedASM#310
Other
- Vulture is able to identify he's the one who recreated his wings based on the liberties taken in its constructionNM#84
- Recognizes Spider-Man's tracking device on sightSp-1#53
- Understands how Nitro died after he disintegrated while fighting a mutantNM#86
- Isn't intimidated by WolverineWO#15
- Wore a mask to hide his true identity in his initial appearanceASM#2
- Isn't Spider-Man's archenemy, but is "on the top of (his) thwip-list"Sp-2#1
- Is anti-mutantUG#9
2024.05.12 18:44 Joshh170 Games With The Most Impressive Graphics (long read)
 | As video games have continued to grow and evolve as both entertainment and art, the games just keep looking better and better. If someone is playing on a high-end PC or the average console, it's hard not to notice when a game stands out a bit more than the rest. submitted by Joshh170 to GameGeeks [link] [comments] Whether it is the highest fidelity graphics or just a gorgeous art style (or both), games that look good usually also play well. If that much time gets spent in the graphics department they must have something good elsewhere. Here are the games with the best graphics out there. Updated on May 12, 2024 by Mark Sammut: Two recently-released games deserve to be spotlighted. One is the latest entry in a long-running JRPG franchise, while the other is a new IP from a Korean studio. Note: A few criteria/things to keep in mind: This article focuses on modern releases and a few post-2000s projects rather than classics from the NES, SNES, Game Boy, Genesis, and PS1 eras. As important and industry-pushing as the latter were, visually they are too different from modern releases to compare them. The games are only loosely ranked since graphical styles vary so much from project to project, and personal preference plays a part. A 2016 game might be ranked higher than a 2024 one because the former was more impressive when it debuted, even if the latter technically looks better. 1)Lords Of The Fallen Unreal Engine 5 Is Here Epic's Unreal Engine 5 was introduced in 2020, instantly garnering hype for what it could mean for the industry's future. In 2023, a few notable games that utilize the engine were finally released, presenting early examples of its potential. Remnant 2 and Immortals of Aveum are both visually impressive, and the same could be said for ARK: Survival Ascended. However, at the moment, Lords of the Fallen is probably the most gorgeous UE5 game, although that could change once titles like Senua's Saga: Hellblade 2 are released. While not without its issues, the Soulslike game's graphics are certainly not among them. Axiom is a vast and stunning hellscape, one that has quite a bit of variety. The game's lighting and animations are consistently top-notch too. 2)Bright Memory: Infinite A One-Person Team Games and their visuals cannot be analyzed in a vacuum. Context and expectations shape somebody's reaction to an experience, and that is certainly the case with Bright Memory: Infinite. Developed by a single developer, Zeng Xiancheng, this first-person shooter originally debuted in 2020 as Bright Memory, a concept that was expanded for a full release in July 2022. While the overall game has plenty of issues, its graphics are undeniably impressive, comparing favorably with higher-budget titles. There are plenty of gorgeous indie titles, but the vast majority succeed because they do not try to emulate AAA projects. They strive to do their own thing. Bright Memory: Infinite does the exact opposite, and the game proves that it can be done well. 3)Hi-Fi Rush Burst Of Colour Announced and released out of nowhere, Hi-Fi Rush was perhaps 2023's greatest surprise. Tango Gameworks' action game blends hack and slash combat with rhythm-based mechanics, rewarding players for adhering to the beat. Set in a corporate city run by Vandelay Technologies, the title brings to life a vibrant and bustling metropolis filled with unique buildings and NPCs. As the campaign is linear, Hi-Fi Rush focuses on creating cool environments and backdrops, two things the game absolutely nails. Quite a few stages are predominantly set within samey corridors and indoor areas, but whenever the action heads outside, Hi-Fi Rush really comes alive. 4)Okami HD An Animated Painting There aren't many games that have been able to graphically stand the test of time as well as Okami has. Originally released in 2006 on consoles like the PlayStation 2 and Wii, Okami was able to take advantage of its timeless style to make the most out of the hardware it was on. However, playing Okami on those consoles today shows just how much the original systems were holding it back, which is where the HD version comes in. On the PS4 and Switch, Okami's classical Japanese art style looks absolutely stunning in just about every area of the game. 5)Heavenly Sword Motion Capture Showcase Most of Ninja Theory's bigger games boast stellar visuals and character designs, however, Heavenly Sword gets the nod because it was the studio's first proper graphical showcase. More impressively, the early PS3 game still looks beautiful today, an achievement that should be largely credited to the project's use of motion capture technology. The cut-scenes steal the show and could easily pass for a mid-budget animated flick, with Andy Serkis' performance as King Bohan ranking among the best in any era of gaming. During gameplay, Heavenly Sword is also a treat for the eyes and senses, particularly in its lavish environments. 6)Killzone: Mercenary Console Quality On A Handheld System Regardless of their quality, all the Killzone games are graphical showcases. Despite being a launch title, 2013's Shadow Fall is still among the most visually impressive games on the PS4. As stunning as Guerrilla's mainline entries are, Killzone: Mercenary deserves a special mention due to its hardware. The PS Vita was and still is a reasonably powerful handheld device, one that could replicate home console visuals to a certain extent. No other title highlighted the console's graphical potential better than Killzone: Mercenary, an FPS that would not have looked out of place on the PS3 or even as a budget PS4 project. The fact it is also a decent game does not hurt either. 7)Super Mario Odyssey It Is Not Always About Realism Or Processing Power While combining "Nintendo Switch game" with "best graphics" might seem weird, it's hard to argue that Super Mario Odyssey doesn't make the most of the console's limited processing power. With a combination of stylized art and impressive HD, Mario explores several gorgeous landscapes that might inspire players to sit back and think about how far things have come. Nintendo has always used fantastical art styles to produce charming and timeless games that don't break the bank on processing. Mario has never looked this good, and sequences like the New Donk City music festival allow the game to shine. 8)Suicide Squad: Kill The Justice League For All Its Faults, The Graphics Are Not One Of Them All of Rocksteady's games push the envelope in terms of visuals, and 2015's Arkham Knight still boasts the most impressive rendition of Gotham in gaming. Its visuals have aged magnificently, and the gameplay is fantastic, even if the overall project is not quite on the same level as Arkham Asylum or Arkham City. After an 8-year wait, Rocksteady made its comeback with Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League; unfortunately, the Arkhamverse spin-off garnered a very mixed reception. Focusing on looter shooter action in an attempt to be a live-service experience, Suicide Squad is a fairly confused project that does not seem to play to Rocksteady's strengths. While many elements warrant criticism, and it can be tempting to dismiss the entire project, the game is not without positives. If nothing else, the graphics are generally top-notch, particularly when it comes to the cutscenes and character designs. When the action gets going, the screen can get rather muddled, but it is not devoid of visual flare either. For all its faults, Suicide Squad certainly looks like a proper AAA project. 9)Halo: Reach A Series That Always Pushed Console Graphics To Their Limits In truth, Reach could be regarded as a stand-in for Halo in general as Microsoft's franchise is consistently pushing console visuals to their limits. In terms of art style, Halo 4 certainly has its fans; when it comes to graphical prowess, Halo 5 and Infinite are unsurprisingly a step above their predecessors. However, Halo: Reach perfected the series' iconic aesthetic of Bungie's era, ensuring the latter's time with the license ended on a high note. Nowadays, Reach looks its best in The Master Chief Collection, which enhances the visuals in a few subtle but notable ways. That said, the Xbox 360 version holds up well after all these years. 10)Dragon Ball Z: Kakarot At Times, Looks (Much) Better Than The Anime It wasn't until fairly recently that video games hit the graphical fidelity necessary to be able to fully translate animated shows and films into live gameplay, with recent Dragon Ball games being the most shining examples. 2018's Dragon Ball FighterZ was able to take a page out of Guilty Gear's book to make a stunning 2.5D experience, but gorgeous, fully 3D anime games were still a rarity. Until Dragon Ball Z: Kakarot was released, that is. Taking the Toriyama characters and landscapes that fans know and love, Kakarot turns them into stunning 3D models with some of the most impressive animations and visual effects around. 11)Lego Star Wars: Skywalker Saga Detailed & Beautiful Lego projects might not be as graphically intensive as games with realistic visuals, but they have a unique and clean aesthetic that generally complements their gameplay and tone. Although the franchise's IP adaptations are consistently pleasing to the eyes, Lego Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga exists on a whole other level. Covering all the main episodes in the sci-fi film series, the game beautifully recreates some of the most iconic locations in Star Wars, creating worlds that are expansive and detailed. Undoubtedly the most ambitious Lego title, The Skywalker Saga is the full package, and Traveller's Tales' hard work is evident throughout the experience. While very much designed with younger players in mind, die-hard fans are likely to have a blast regardless of their age; in fact, people who are just searching for an action-adventure romp should check this release out. 12)Golden Sun A Gorgeous World To Take On The Go In terms of raw power, the Game Boy Advance has nothing on the Nintendo DS, let alone something like the Switch; however, that does not mean the classic console's library is devoid of gorgeous games. Golden Sun is a turn-based JRPG set in Weyard, a fantasy world that is refreshingly diverse in terms of environments. Largely experienced from a top-down perspective, Golden Sun looks like most other old-school JRPGs found on the GBA or SNES, just with its graphics maximized to their full potential. Camelot instilled every town and dungeon with color and personality, while battles come to life with a flurry of effects that are dazzling to behold. 13)South Park: The Fractured But Whole Looks Exactly Like The Show When adapting an established property to a different medium, concessions usually need to be made. However, exceptions do exist, and South Park: The Fractured but Whole managed to perfectly replicate the show's aesthetic. The RPG looks and sounds exactly like Trey Parker and Matt Stone's legendary animated series, permitting fans to immerse themselves in this world like never before. Even removed from that context, The Fractured but Whole's visuals are detailed, expressive, and clean. Authenticity did not come at the cost of quality. 14)Shadow Of The Colossus (2018) Majesty In Gaming Form For the most part, this article focuses on modern games rather than titles that were graphical showcases when they debuted. Shadow of the Colossus both follows this rule and is also an exception; while the PS2 version looks dated, the visuals still retain that same sense of wonder and scale that they had when the game originally came out in 2005. Bluepoint Games' 2018 remake gives Team Ico's classic a modern makeover, and traversing the Forbidden Land in search of majestic colossi remains as haunting of an experience as it was in the PS2 era. 15)Stellar Blade More Than Just Eve In the lead-up to its release, Stellar Blade's marketing heavily advertised Eve, its AI protagonist, and her wardrobe. Attractive characters being used to sell projects is nothing new, but their heavy promotion usually suggests a lack of trust in the rest of the game's quality. Surprisingly, Stellar Blade proved to be way more than just its main character. Shift Up created an exciting action game with Soulslike combat (along with hack and slash influence) that also features surprisingly expansive zones that allow for exploration, side quests, and environmental storytelling. Considering it was created by a smallish studio compared to other PS5 first-party titles, Stellar Blade compares favorably to most of Sony's heavyweights, and it is among the best-looking Unreal Engine 4 games of all time. In fact, it could be confused for Unreal Engine 5. 16)Persona 5 Royal Oozes Style As hundreds of games use an anime aesthetic, they start to blend together if they do not inject enough personality into their presentations. Persona 5 Royal does not have this issue. Everything about the game screams "stylish," and that holds true for the social sim and dungeon crawling sections of the campaign. The latter take place in diverse Palaces that are generally vibrant, lively, and gorgeous. The visuals also do a lot of heavy lifting during battles, elevating what is a rather unspectacular turn-based combat system. Outside of Palaces, P5R unleashes players on a small but dense variant of Tokyo, one brimming with tiny details that enhance the experience. Note: Persona 3 Reload is quite a looker as well, although its single-dungeon setup restricts variety when compared to Persona 5 Royal 's Palaces. 17)The Last Of Us 2 Gritty Realism & Tremendous Performances Naughty Dog's games are always on the cutting edge graphically. 2016's Uncharted 4: A Thief's End has barely aged a day since its release, and 2013's The Last of Us was a contender for the most visually impressive game of the seventh generation. Therefore, unsurprisingly, the studio's latest offering, The Last of Us 2, is a powerhouse in the graphics department. This action-adventure game features realistic visuals and grounded performances courtesy of Naughty Dog using performance capture. Whether players are viewing a rare quiet moment or crawling in the mud to avoid a Clicker, The Last of Us 2 looks incredible. The 2024 remaster enhances the base version even further. 18)Gears 5 Weather Effects & Environments The newly titled Gears 5 takes a series that has always looked good and elevates it to the next level. The game's campaign takes place across a wide variety of environments, from a jungle early on to a snowy tundra and red desert landscape. The snowy tundra and red desert are also the locations for the game's more open exploration sections, giving a chance to explore and take in all the scenery. Gears 5's cutscenes are also gorgeous and the high fidelity extends into all the game's other modes. 19)Assassin's Creed Odyssey Packed With Stunning Vistas Assassin's Creed Odyssey earns its subtitle over the 60-plus hours it takes to mainline the story; in the meantime, players get to appreciate and take in the beauty of Ancient Greece. While the environments don't vary a ton from Assassin's Creed Origins, the extra trees and seas make for some spectacular views. With the viewpoints, Odyssey never hesitates to point out just how magnificent it looks. Most of the main characters and side characters also look great, which is impressive based on the quantity. 20)Hades Personality & Vibrancy Supergiant Games has put together some of the greatest indie releases of all time, and the studio's crowning achievement is Hades. The roguelike follows Zagreus' repeated attempts to make the journey from the Underworld to Mount Olympus, a task that proves to be anything but simple for Hades' son. Hades' visuals are vibrant, thematically consistent, and lively. The game's environments and characters are soaked in mythology and personality, while the particle effects are fantastic and impactful. The only negative is that sometimes there is a bit too much happening on screen. Note: Hades 2 arguably looks better than its predecessor, but it is still a work in progress at the moment. 21)Cuphead Perfectly Mimics Classic Cartoons A unique and eye-catching art style is often more important than sheer graphical prowess, and Cuphead might be the best demonstration of this point. Inspired by cartoons of old, Studio MDHR created a game that uses stunning and dynamic hand-drawn animation to bring to life a colorful world and the beings that exist within it. Even though they do not get much in the way of backstory, Cuphead utilizes its presentation to get across the personalities of each boss. The art style is also consistent throughout the campaign, allowing for a coherent experience despite most of the characters boasting designs that share very little in common. 22)Horizon Forbidden West Scale & Quality Guerrilla Games somehow managed to outdo Horizon Zero Dawn with its sequel, despite the latter still coming out on the PS4 alongside the console's successor. Horizon Forbidden West finds Aloy exploring a new area of this setting, one specifically inspired by states and cities like California and San Francisco. The result is a gorgeous and vast world packed with lush natural environments that are home to intricate mechanical beasts. Like most open-world games, Horizon Forbidden West does not always look absolutely fantastic, but its high points are so impressive that they make the more forgettable moments forgivable. While still a beautiful game on the PS4, this 2022 release is, unsurprisingly, at its best on the PS5. 23)Ori And The Will Of The Wisps Great Use Of Color & Light Moon Studios' Ori games are some of the best modern Metroidvanias, and they knock it out of the park in nearly every area. They tell emotional storylines that succeed in fostering not only a connection between the audience and the silent eponymous character but also the world they live in. Gameplay-wise, both games have precise and challenging platforming, while Will of the Wisps also introduces combat to the mix. Although a touch polarizing, the latter nevertheless adds an extra dimension to the overall package. Last but not least, Ori and its sequel are both visually enchanting. The games' use of color might be among the best in the entire industry, and each environment is a work of art. In the world of side-scrollers, not many projects compare favorably to Ori and the Will of the Wisps in any department, including graphics. 24)Demon's Souls (2020) A Beautiful Hell As mesmerizing as Elden Ring's visuals can be at times, the game's open-world design means they are spread a bit thin; conversely, 2020's Demon's Souls remake consists of almost nothing but stunning areas. Rife with deadly creatures, haunting architecture, and intimidating landscapes, Boletaria is a gorgeous nightmare of a kingdom that is equally likely to leave players in awe or fear. As a launch title for the PS5, Demon's Souls served as something of a tech demo for the hardware, showing what the next-gen console could accomplish. This is a game that could not exist on the PS4, and even more than 18 months into the PS5's life, Demon's Souls still has some of the best graphics on the system. 25)Ghost Of Tsushima Immersive Open-World Gazing across Ghost of Tsushima's rendition of the Japanese archipelago is quite the sight to behold, as this highly anticipated title has some breathtaking scenery. Tsushima's main graphical focus is on its world, which ends up feeling just as alive as the characters that inhabit it. The way cherry blossom petals flow in the highly stylized wind, how the sunset illuminates the beautiful countryside, and the many vibrant colors that contrast the violent gameplay make for one beautiful game. 26)Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart Pixar Quality Similar to 2016's Ratchet & Clank, Rift Apart's animation is on a whole other level. The franchise's most recent entries tend to be compared to Pixar's movies, which is about as high of praise as any game can receive. Utilizing the full power of the PS5, Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart matches top-tier cutscenes with gameplay sections that are packed with detail, moving parts, and depth. Insomniac created lavish and dense worlds that all have unique flavors that make them exciting to explore. When the action gets going and Ratchet or Rivet scoop up bolts, Rift Apart is as smooth as butter. Note: Marvel's Spider-Man 2 is also visually stunning and represents Insomniac at its best. Rift Apart merits the nod due to being among the first PS5 projects to showcase the console's graphical potential, but Spider-Man 2 is as good-looking of an open-world game as they come. 27)Ni No Kuni: Wrath Of The White Witch Ghibli Quality Except for Square Enix, Level-5 is arguably the most consistent JRPG developer in terms of visuals. Yo-kai Watch, Dragon Quest 8, and Dark Cloud 2 are all gorgeous, and the latter's art styles are timeless. Level-5's graphical masterpiece is undoubtedly 2013's Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch, although the developer got some help as the game's cutscenes were handled by Studio Ghibli. The anime studio is well-known for its lavish cinematic productions, and Wrath of the White Witch replicates Ghibli's iconic style splendidly. Even if the cutscenes were ignored, Ni no Kuni would still rank among the PS3's most beautiful games. 28)Resident Evil 2 (2019) – Represents All Modern Resident Evil Games A Remake Done Right Years of remasters and rereleases have cemented the idea that old games can look better than they did, but not as good as modern ones. Capcom rebuilding Resident Evil 2 from the ground up makes it a modern video game, a fantastic one at that. Leon and Claire have never looked this good and neither have the zombies and monsters terrorizing Raccoon City. The police station and underground lab look nearly life-like and every scare in the game is extra terrifying with how detailed the monsters are. Even Tyrant looks awesome, in his own terrifying way. Note: Resident Evil 3 and Resident Evil 4 also look fantastic, but RE2 received the nod as it was the first of Capcom's stint of recent remakes. Resident Evil Village is also stunning. 29)Microsoft Flight Simulator (2020) The World At The Player's Fingertips Microsoft Flight Simulator is a jaw-dropping achievement. The flight sim grants players access to the world, allowing them to plan and take trips to Earth's highest mountains, hottest deserts, and greatest metropolises. The game's scope is impressive, and this ambition is more than matched by its technical prowess. Microsoft Flight Simulator is arguably the most realistic game of all time, with both the planes and locations authentically mirroring their real-life counterparts to the smallest detail. 30)God Of War (2018) & Ragnarok (2022) A New Era, A New Look Nothing against the previous installments of God of War, which are all technical showcases in their own right, but the soft reboot of the 2018 sequel and its successor are not only different but also more gorgeous. Exploring the Norse lands to soak up this universe's mythology is spectacular for a number of reasons, including the fact that everything looks great. God of War captures Kratos and Atreus in a way that gives depth to the former not experienced in previous installments. Unsurprisingly, God of War: Ragnarok maintains the high quality set by its predecessor. Graphically, the sequel does not offer a huge leap forward, but that is a testament to God of War's beauty rather than a criticism of Ragnarok. 31)The Legend Of Zelda: Tears Of The Kingdom Pushes The Switch To Its Absolute Limit The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom boast vibrant art styles that bring Hyrule to life like never before. However, if someone were to focus on the minute details, they might notice reused or flat textures along with large stretches of empty real estate containing nothing but maybe two enemies and a couple of apples. Compared to some other open-world projects, Nintendo's releases might not be that impressive; however, considering the Switch's underpowered hardware, both games are technical marvels. Tears of the Kingdom gets the nod as it has more content than Breath of the Wild thanks to the implementation of Sky Islands and the Depths. Pushing the Switch to its absolute limit, the sequel delivers one of the most complete and expansive open-world adventures of all time. 32)The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt A Dark Fantasy Masterpiece In Nearly Every Way Known for being one of the greatest games ever made, CD Projekt Red's The Witcher 3 is phenomenal for numerous reasons. Not all the monsters or gruff characters are a joy to look at because they aren't meant to be, but the sprawling landscapes are constantly killer. While the console versions look great (not including the Switch port, which is nonetheless impressive in its own right), The Witcher 3 on PC can hit graphical levels that are almost beyond understanding. The game is worth playing for a ton of reasons besides graphics, but looking good is always a plus. The bathtub scene is worth the price of entry alone. On the right system, Cyberpunk 2077 is also one of the best-looking games ever . 33)A Plague Tale: Requiem A Proper Current-Gen Experience As the ninth console generation picks up steam, more games will debut that raise the bar for graphics, at least on Sony and Microsoft's hardware. A Plague Tale: Requiem is one of the first games to truly come across as a current-gen experience, an achievement aided by Asobo Studio's decision to not produce PS4 and Xbox One versions. Boasting brilliant facial animations and photo-realistic visuals, Requiem is awe-inspiring on a technical level. While 2019's Innocence is also a pretty game, Requiem far exceeds its predecessor in this department, particularly when it comes to the presentation of the rats. 34)Forza Horizon 5 Mexico At The Player's Fingertips As long as Forza games continue to be made they will continue to be the best-looking games on the market. Forza Horizon 5 isn't just one of the greatest racing games of the last few years, but one of the most gorgeous titles to ever be released for Xbox. While Forza Horizon 4's British setting resulted in slightly homogenous environments, the sequel's Mexico map is far more diverse, offering 11 biomes that showcase different aspects of the country. While the game looks good on the Xbox One, Forza Horizon 5 is unbelievably gorgeous on PC and the Xbox Series X. 35)Alan Wake 2 Cinematic Quality Alan Wake 2 was a long time coming, and the sequel managed to live up to some rather lofty expectations while catering to both returning fans and new players. Split across two campaigns, the story follows Saga as she investigates a murder case that leads her to an unsettling American town with a peculiar populace. In the meantime, Alan finds himself trying to escape the Dark Place, a haunting realm that twists reality into something menacing but familiar. Although complementary, the two storylines still feel different from each other, and that extends to their detailed and realistic locations. Alan Wake 2 is a technical work of art built using Remedy's own Northlight Engine, which is also responsible for the equally impressive Control and Quantum Break. 36)Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth Ambitious, Epic, & Gorgeous Generally, most JRPG franchises tend to trail behind other AAA properties in terms of graphics; however, the one constant exception is Final Fantasy. In most generations, Square Enix produces one or two games that push consoles to their limits – Final Fantasy 6 for the SNES, Final Fantasy 7 and 8 for the PS1, Final Fantasy 12 for the PS2, Final Fantasy 13 for the PS3, and Final Fantasy 7 Remake for the PS4. On the PS5, Final Fantasy 16 and Rebirth are both visually stunning, but the latter gets the nod due to its open-world nature, making for a more impressive final product. Set after Cloud and company leave Midgar, Rebirth emphasizes this story's world-spanning nature and scale in a way that could not be done with the 1997 original. Even if the open-world filler content might not be to everyone's tastes, the game is consistently gorgeous, and each region of the map has a unique identity that keeps things interesting. The character and enemy models are unsurprisingly flawless, and they are accompanied by high-quality visual effects that are regularly showcased during the fast-paced combat. 37)Half-Life: Alyx The Future Of Gaming? After more than a decade, Valve finally returned to the Half-Life franchise, albeit with a prequel/sequel rather than a proper third entry. Also, Half-Life: Alyx is a VR game, presumably designed to get people interested in Valve's Index headset. Dropping players in City 17, Alyx not only serves as a showcase of VR technology but is also a proper, substantial addition to the beloved series. Half-Life: Alyx arguably features the most detailed world in gaming history, and, thanks to virtual reality, one of the most immersive. Although most of the game takes place in underground areas filled with brilliantly designed environments and enemies, Half-Life: Alyx's presentation goes up another level whenever the story heads to the surface. 38)Red Dead Redemption 2 An Era Captured Fully Red Dead Redemption 2 is arguably the game with the best graphics of all time, although Rockstar's GTA 5 and L.A. Noire would not be bad shouts either. RDR2 is practically a movie due to how detailed and impressive all the NPCs and landscapes look on both consoles and PC. Not only does every single frame of this adventure look photo-realistic, but RDR2 is also incredibly long and players will never get tired of the scenery. Arthur Morgan looks and feels like a real human being, and the same extends to every other character within the game. RDR2 is nothing short of art. 39)Groundbreaking Games From Yesteryear They Set The Standard While not quite as regular of a phenomenon nowadays, the '80s, '90s, and early 2000s produced plenty of games that represented the next leap in graphical prowess. Titles like Pong, Asteroids, Super Mario Bros., Super Mario 64, Alone in the Dark, Ocarina of Time, Tomb Raider, Mist, Final Fantasy 7, and Grand Theft Auto 3 were all visual showcases that changed the industry. Even if some of these projects' graphics have not aged extremely well, that does not diminish their accomplishments or importance. And, plenty of these masterpieces have stood the test of time, especially Nintendo's SNES-era releases. |
2024.05.12 16:00 BrodogIsMyName Frontier Fantasy - Chap 38
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Edited by sensei WaveOfWire
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Everything had gone exceptionally well for the farmer, despite the daunting task forced into her talons. Kegara had ordered her to begin a march east in search of the expected banished by sunrise—not alone, but in a group of fourteen others. She thought it was too many for such a task, and would assuredly catch the ire of the abhorrent; the more Malkrin present, the more creatures would pursue them…
It was a risk. One she was willing to take if her beloved was safe, but he pleaded for her to find a way to avoid it. Unfortunately, were she to stay, it would land her in the worst of Kegara's rage. The orange-skinned female would have been made a gruesome example for those who disobeyed, tied up in the center of the camp and… She did not wish to think of what ghastly fate would have awaited her.
So, in the dark of night, her and the baker’s plan of escape was struck. Perhaps it was foolish to leave their safety behind, but considering the blood-moon and forced orders, was it truly ‘safe?’ They would gather their pitiful belongings and set off in the direction of the previously ostracized members—the water worshiper, and four others. There was little hope of finding them, less so after the blood-moon, but with so few of them, there was still a chance they evaded the beasts and the warped oddities of the mainland altogether. Maybe if the field hand and her mate could find them, they could start their own settlement. At least, those were her thoughts when she set out…
Her initial reaction to being thrust into the open wilderness was nothing short of horror. Indistinct animalistic screeches, otherworldly hums, and unsettling creaks from trees sent chills down her spine throughout the night. Hazy shadows underneath the dim moonlight crawled like creatures, stalking… prowling around the mated pair. Every step she made was made in pure uncertainty, every pace bringing her further into an abyss of unseen nightmares. Maybe Kegara would not have punished her so severely… Maybe it would have been best to stay where it was safe.
But, she continued. She stayed strong. She had to.
They had already ventured too far, and it was her job to protect her love. Her tail wrapped possessively around his waist as he stuck close to her. Morning would break soon, and they would be far away from the brutish paladin… Free to start anew. It would be difficult, but the two of them were far from incapable of fending for themselves; they learned enough in the way of survival from their time on the mainland and their respective professions, despite both being from the Golden City.
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They were able to survive the night, persevering well into the day by making crude implements and harvesting what they could. They had even managed to discover a large cave perfect for their habitation! It was dry and large enough for a fire, though it went deeper than expected. Food and cooking arrangements were their prerogatives, so they elected not to scour it any further as it would only be a waste of their time. They worked tirelessly until the sun set beyond the red expanse of trees. Her love busied himself with making the smooth gray walls into a home by gathering small resources and forming makeshift beddings, while she had gone out to hunt. By the luck of the Mountain God, she managed to bring back not one but two feathered creatures, each of which were more than plump enough to feed the mated pair for the evening.
Her aching feet patted against the grass, the blades poking her worn soles. The vegetation swayed from side to side in the weak breeze, almost appearing to celebrate her small victory with her. The cavern entrance came into view, its shape too small for her frills to fit under. The edges were covered in pinkish moss, giving it a distinct feel compared to the rest of the biome. Perhaps it was a sign of the Mountain God’s will for them to inhabit it. The moist malleable moss stretched further inside, resembling small veins inside the larger chasm.
She ducked underneath the mouth of the cave, appreciating the yellow reflections of an ongoing fire from within, each flick casting long shadows over every rock edge. Yet once she entered the homely cavity, the flames were the only thing present… Her eyes scanned the room for Baker, only finding an unused leafy bed, piles of edible berries, and a stack of wood. A shock of anxiety bolted up her spine, sharply settling on her frills like cold ice. Where was her mate?
She stepped forward, her webbed toes pressing into… liquid. Her eyes shot toward the ground, the orange-skinned female only now realizing how slick the floor really was. Viscous moisture clung to her leg, stretching across like mucus. The room was… dry before. Her initial thought that it was blood, but that was easily proven false by the thin film’s clear color. That did not ease her worries, however; her betrothed was still out of sight. Perhaps he left to forage, or was possibly looking for her?
A deadened wet thwack from further inside the cave echoed throughout the room, drawing her attention and causing her ears to perk up. Baker…?
She squinted down the black corridor, its sturdy stone now only reflecting the low howl of the cavern’s natural wind. Her eyes stayed locked on it as she slowly grabbed a makeshift torch and set it alight with the campfire. It had to have been her mate down there. Perhaps the tunnel curved so that she was unable to see his torchlight? What was he doing in the dark? Was he searching for something? Food perhaps?
She was already heading toward him before she considered any other possibility. Short drips accompanied her footfalls into the talon-width thick liquid that proliferated along the ground, grabbing onto her every time she raised her foot with a disgusting sucking noise. Her skin soon felt a similar spreading moisture from the humid cave, a low heat building up as she went. It would have been welcoming if not for the sick feeling that settled in her stomach.
The flickers of her torch illuminated the smooth cave walls and the ever-present pink moss that accompanied them. The ‘flora’ grew in volume and presence, stretching everywhere in random lines, often crossing and connecting with one another into larger segments. It eventually lost its fuzzy texture, only a moist reflective red taking its place. The way it almost appeared to… pulse in sync with the surrounding ambience only furthered the notion of veins and arteries…
A creeping sense of wrongness etched itself in her mind. Her ears slowly drooped down and her back hunched as her wide eyes failed to make out anything a pace or two in front of her. She scoured the blackness for anything and everything as the stone path ebbed and flowed, bringing her further down into the heart of Ershah.
thwack
A startling yet familiar noise halted her advance. She stepped back, swiveling her head around wildly to locate its source. Nothing made its presence known. There was only a permeating darkness within the… tunnel… She froze. When did the corridor become so large? Just before, she was able to stretch her arms to reach both sides of the walls, but now… Now it was open like the ocean, the blackness surrounding her entirely, obscuring… everything. She couldn’t see the entrance, nor the ceiling. Her pitiful torch illuminated the ground below her and nothing more.
Plip... Plip… Plip. The dripping continued, now suddenly an overbearing presence… like that of a predator’s breath riding down one’s neck.
Her breathing quickened, eyes widening. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Hesitant paces backward drew her into what she presumed was the direction she came from. It was no use. Further and further she went into the abyss, finding nothing but more of the tenebrous expanse.
The only true sense afforded to her was hearing… Every stifled breath, every wet footstep, and every flick of her torch felt deafening and… revealing. She was but a spark in the wider cavern, waving herself down as prey in the unseen eyes of what awaited her. Something could have been right behind her, and she would have been none the wiser… especially with no wall to guard her back…
A shiver ebbed through her frills. Would it be wise to suffocate her only flame to cover her presence? She stopped her palm from doing so, realizing that the fire was her only light. If its illumination perished, she would be trapped in the abyss with no way out… She needed to leave. She had to find the tunnel. It was—
“Fa…r...mer?” a voice croaked out, its intent shaky and bogged down in black tar.
Her shoulders stiffened, back straightening as she turned toward its direction. It was… Baker’s… but it felt uncanny… foreign. Was that even his? It had to be. M-Maybe he was harmed, too injured to move? Perhaps it was a broken frill? It would make sense. She had to find her mate… no matter how much his pained voice terrified her. That was why she was here in the first place…
The thickness of the viscous ground liquid increased as nervous footsteps brought her closer, the air around her getting warmer with each pace. She called out hesitantly, praying for a positive response.
“B-Baker? Are you there?”
Another wet, fleshy sound echoed through the large cavern, followed by a sickening crack. Then, his voice returned. It was much clearer this time, despite the aura of unsettling… distortion to it.
“Come… closer.”
Her steps were tentative, but she continued forward. Everything around her screamed something was amiss, but that painful string in her heart told her to never let her lover go. He was in pain. He was clearly suffering. Why should she ignore the one who warmed her heart with a simple smile just because she was perturbed by unproven nervousness?
Labored breaths filled her ears as she descended a small incline toward her mate. The shin-high murky liquid at the bottom was ignored, only becoming a small nuisance as her long strides carried her across the unknown fluid. Her motions caused it to sway in all directions, the ripples and turbidity preventing her from seeing what caused the squishy feeling beneath her feet. It smelled putrid, though not like that of rot… The scent was something she could not place, yet it was consuming with how it pierced her nostrils with its presence. It hardly mattered. She was close to him, she could feel his very presence in front of her. She could almost hear the breathing of…
Her torch lit up a rock… no… a figure. It was upright, but its head was pointing downwards. She couldn’t see the legs well, but she did notice how its… his familiar gray arms hung limply.
Baker!
Joy and anxiousness ran thick within her intent. “My dear! Are you okay? W-What has happened to you?”
She received no response for an unsettlingly long moment before his head shook… loosely… Like that of a puppet, reminding her of the black abyss that surrounded everywhere his body was not… It hid something.
“Come… Closer.”
“…W-What? No… M-My Dear… I…” In a moment of fear she raised her torch closer, illuminating everything.
Flesh surrounded him wholly, replacing his legs with undulating tubes and wet meat. Tendrils attached to his back, pulsing from their ceiling-bound origins. His limp arms moved slowly… falling… melting. The very skin slopped off onto into the pile of red beneath him with a sick thwack.
She jumped backwards, but the viscous liquid beneath her held tight. She couldn’t move. Her torch flickered and flared as she fumbled with her footing.
Lumps and nodules swelled from that thing’s chest, the very organs within rearranging. Deafening cracks and vile squelching echoed. The skin down his center slowly tore itself apart, strings of sinew breaking like twine to reveal malformed limbs within.
She ripped her legs from the grappling pond beneath, doing everything in her power to turn away.
But it was no use.
Bolts of force perforated her body. Agony seared every surface of her body.
The chest had burst open, sending several tendrils right through her. They squirmed and extended into her, moving like worms. They ripped and melded to her own flesh. Roaring pain flowed through her being like fire and lightning, consuming her wholly.
She screamed, but nothing escaped her lungs. Blood and tissue filled them. She needed to rip at the invading terror, but could not move. The red abomination pulled them for her; a sickening puppet of muscle.
Everything faded. No pain. No breathing. No sight.
The last thing she saw were the sockets in which her beloved’s gorgeous yellow eyes once laid, now replaced with pulsing meat.
She missed them… dearly.
\= = = = =
Several days of ridicule and a merciless sea voyage were sure to have an adverse effect on one’s mental state—being cast out of one’s own religion even more so. Some would perhaps cope with such by lashing out against those higher up the mountain than themselves. Others might resign themselves to prayer and labor, hoping to fit back into place within God’s graces. However, an exceptional case may change the way one perceives their circumstance.
The script-keeper and her village-mates were hardy people, having survived the worst of the Gods’ trials and then some—rogue waves from the water worshippers, grand storms from the Sky Goddess, and great famines brought from those who sinned before the Mountain God. They persevered through their community, pooling what little they had and relying upon one another to get through. She had seen it for fifty winters.
Now, eight of them have been stripped of those they became interdependent on, thrown forth into an uncertain abyss with only the clothes on their backs. Yet, by the luck of the Gods, the very shore they came upon happened to be owned by that of a diety-sent. Perhaps it was a sign from the Gods that there was hope for them yet…
And it took all of a singular night to prove that assumption correct. The four Malkrin that followed the star-sent freely regaled their struggles with the vile wilderness and the cruelty of the only other settlement before they met with the Creator. Their opinions on Kegara’s settlement were duly noted, but not taken to heart as they were just that: opinions. The script-keeper would have to see it for herself; feeble belief in the words of few should not sway the mind of someone, especially with her profession. Still, the stories of the abhorrent were taken much more seriously, since despite the confidence shared by the few females about defeating them, the elderly Malkrin could certainly see their ears droop in disquietude when the topic was broached. Furthermore, the other more elusive star-sent refused entirely to elaborate on her experience with the beasts when the paladin wrapped her into the conversation.
Fine new clothes, filling meals, and protective castles could only do so much… In the splendor and awe, the script-keeper understood it could only cover up the aching wounds each of the villagers had come here with. She knew the lumberjack quite well, commonly having to assist her with purchasing and selling items across the sea… the very same sea that now separated the woman from her mate. God knows how the wood-cutter felt now.
All the elder knew from the sparse conversations she had with the orange-skinned female was that she wished not to think of it anymore. To which, the harvester did just that, delving into the work allotted to her without a second thought, and basking in the benefits of the star-sent. Much was the same for the others from their island—their hopes of returning to the Land Kingdom having already been thoroughly sundered by the inquisitors. The script-keeper was not privy to everyone’s pains, but she knew they were similarly prepared to shelve them away in service of building themselves anew with this peculiar situation.
\= = = = =
Female Malkrin eat a lot. Seriously, all the meal boxes Harrison and Akula had prepared were ran through like crab rangoons at a buffet. There were a few left, but certainly not enough for dinner that night—and especially not for the winter, much to his displeasure. The engineer wasn’t looking forward to cooking anymore than he already had… But, he had a trick up his sleeve. Not only did the green fisherwoman know how to use the kitchen, but their little camp just so happened to have another who was experienced in the culinary arts.
Around the time they put their tools down for lunch, Harrison was approached by the pink-colored chef who was assisting with some of the masonry prior. He was apprehensive, yet his eyes were practically sparkling when he asked about the barbecue sauce, spices, and common vegetables. The engineer had a bit of time before he needed to get back to work, so he gave in. They conversed about it over their meal, the human explaining the ingredients and methods of making several types of dishes while the several Malkrin in attendance listened intently.
That was around the time he got the idea: why not have Akula teach the cook how to use the barrack’s kitchen? She was pretty reluctant to return to cooking… until he reintroduced her to her new sous-chef, giving her the task of overseeing the male’s modern culinary equipment and meat smoking tutorial.
Harrison didn’t know exactly why she seemed happier then. It could have been something about her prejudices, just having someone else to help her, or something… else… That didn’t matter to him. As long as the job was done, he was happy—especially since it meant he could focus on other projects.
Take the entire home they were building for example; it was practically completed by the time the chefs were sent off to make dinner. They were working on it since dawn—the engineer was still incapable of sleeping—digging the foundation behind the barracks, layering the brick walls, and getting the wooden supports down in record time. Having several extra Malkrin around made the labor requirement almost trivial, even if he needed to ensure they were doing the job right by constantly keeping a close eye on them. It also helped how eager some of them were to settle in with their tasks—the fisher twins and the lumberjack specifically.
The new arrivals were definitely a lot more lively than last night, that was for sure. They held onto caution in the morning, but that broke rather quickly after they got more accustomed to Harrison’s group and received basic clothing—literally just sturdy plaid shirts and black pants. Cera’s—the ceramist’s newly accepted name, created by Tracy’s shorthand of her profession—tendency to look out for the group also had a hand in the change from guarded acceptance to genuine and vocal appreciation. She did as much as she could to ease their burden by offering water or a helping hand whenever she and the lumberjack weren’t busy bringing wheelbarrows full of clay to the workshop. The two new males gladly accepted both, but the females were quite set on keeping their honor, completing their share of the work ‘with their own talons.’
Then, there was the juvenile. He didn’t want to force a kid to work, but the decision apparently wasn’t his. She quietly joined her older village-mates in hauling wheelbarrows full of bricks to and from the workshop. She didn’t seem upset nor did she seem too enthused about it. His singular attempt to persuade her otherwise was only returned with a terse shake of her head before she continued working. She didn’t like to show much emotion, that was for sure. Were all Malkrin teens like that, or was it because of her situation? Christ… the fact that she was sent to the mainland without her parents—or at all—rubbed him the wrong way. It was fucked, but at least she would be safe here… or as ‘safe’ as was possible.
That was the other job of the day: defense via the new fabricator. Tracy helped out a good bit with organizing and designing the second barracks for the first half of the day, thoroughly combing through the engineer’s ideas and ripping out the ‘brutalist’ and ‘soul-crushing’ lack of ‘real’ architecture. She inserted her own ideas, further backed up by the input of Craftsman’s prior experience, making for an admittedly more pleasant-looking layout of the house’s exterior and interior. It would end up looking vaguely like a white-brick colonial house, but with less ‘posh noble,’ instead making use of Germanic-style exterior wooden supports. It was just big enough to fit eight Malkrin-sized cots, space for movement between them, and all the basics such as lighting, airflow, and a little bit of storage on top—because, what was a building without storage? Luckily for the tradeswoman, it hardly used any more resources than his original plans, so he allowed it.
After that, Tracy realized there wasn’t much else for her to do, so she returned to their other project. The technician did well in assembling the most basic parts, working well throughout the day to complete the forging and welding components. Again, having someone else to do help with a job that big was a massive blessing, cutting off hours of time he would have had to slave away in the workshop.
Hours of time that he was able to use for overseeing the now-completed barracks, simultaneously teaching the Malkrin and getting a feel for how to best utilize their strengths with a substantial amount of help from the craftsman. The male did a bang-up job at explaining tasks and concepts to the others. Much better than Harrison was able to. Once more, it was a job the engineer was more than happy to let someone else take off his hands. The olive-colored Male was perfect for the job anyway, having the technical know-how and experience explaining similar things to Malkrin back on the islands, so the pioneer trusted the task to be completed with little issue.
Now, the day was finally reaching a close, ending with the settlement eating their dinner by the fire. There were a few more benches made to give everyone a seat. That meant the radius had to be extended somewhat, but that wasn’t anything a bigger fire couldn’t fix. Plus, the alien’s intent meant that he could still hear clearly from anyone around the pyre.
The muted sounds of silverware clanking against meal boxes and plates were muddled by the constant breeze. The flames lazily flickered in all directions, casting shadows along the flowing grass, each person in attendance being doused in a mellow orange. The Malkrin conversed with one another over their meals, each sitting in pairs on the furniture. Shar was out on guard patrol, so Tracy ended up taking the seat beside him. It was a bit of a surprise given how much she preferred to stay in the workshop, but he didn’t mind her taking a break—she deserved it. If anything, it should have been him on the fabrication floor, picking up where she left off.
“…Hey…” Tracy’s soft, worried voice took him from his thoughts.
“Hm?” He lazily looked down at the shorter woman beside him, her legs swinging as they couldn’t quite reach the ground.
She worriedly raised her brows. “You alright, dude? You’ve had some major bruised eye action going on all day. Did you even get any sleep? I didn’t even see you when I woke up.”
“No, I actually didn’t—” He held up a palm, stopping the technician’s troubled response. “—but it’s more because of that potion… thingy… Cera gave me. I don’t feel tired at all.”
Her face contorted in confusion, the shadows cast by the fire’s glow emphasizing it further. “The… potion…? Oh, yeaaaah, right. It was supposed to help you with dizziness, I think, but it also prevents you from feeling tired. How does it even feel? Like taking an energy drink, or something else?”
He held out his arm, tracing a finger along it. “I just feel like I’ve got pins and needles all along my skin… and I don’t feel like sleeping. That’s it really, so sort of like taking a bunch of caffeine.”
Her brows dropped in faux-annoyance. “That can not be healthy for you. Have you checked up on yourself with the scanner? If not for that, then at least the radiation? Maybe the fuzzy stuff is from all those grays of radiation you received?”
“I did… I did, don’t worry. The scanner had nothing besides the usual, so I guess it was just a good bit of caffeine or something… I don’t know. It’ll probably wear off soon, though.”
She nodded, returning her gaze to the fire. Her voice mellowed, just barely loud enough to reach his ears. “Good. The aliens were worried sick about you, yesterday, ya know—Shar ‘specially… and so was I…”
He hardly heard that last part, barely able to piece it together seconds after she muttered it. He wasn’t trying to make them worried, it was just a part of being on this planet. Every day was a new close call. The first blood moon, that pink monster, the workshop ambush, the second blood moon, and now the anomaly field all terrified him, haunting his very dreams with brief flashbacks of those sights and sounds. Though, they all served to teach him, forcing him to stay on his toes and never stay complacent… Which was something he was doing now.
He had plans in the works already—the new fabricator being the crux of at least half of them—but what could he do currently? How could he prepare? Or, at the very least, what could he do to advance the group further?
Their day-to-day jobs had already been discussed, plans for a new wood storage building were already made, and his work on the printer was cut out for him tonight… Okay. Well, what could he prepare for in the future? Defense? Of course, now that people were going to be out doing their own jobs, they would be too spread out to protect everyone at once.
There were two components to any solution for that problem: reconnaissance and protection. The first was self-explanatory. If he had, say, a few dozen drones scouting around where people were, it would take a lot of the surprise out of random swarms. That would give people time to either return to the castles… modules… or prepare themselves to take the bugs on. That led him to the second part. Firearms help to kill spider-crabs, but are also pretty dangerous in the wrong hands… He was more than willing to trust the Malkrin he knew with guns to defend themselves, but he couldn’t just start handing them out to strangers. Maybe in time, though. There were always other means of protection, anyway; Kegara’s camp was apparently alive and well, despite practically being from the stone ages.
Cera, Akula, and Shar were most certainly getting some firepower, that was for sure. He’d have to think about what sort of weapons would suit them. That also brought up the current metal deficit… and his gunpowder was running out quite quickly…
That was definitely something he wanted to get on before the next blood moon. He wanted to revisit that metal cave he saw when the paladin and the fisherwoman got cornered by three colossi. He hadn’t analyzed the chunk of ore he hacked off yet—he’d been pretty damn busy—so it was about time he figured out whether or not he had a nearby source of metals. It would be a damn blessing if it was aluminum or iron, despite only being a surface deposit. No matter what it was, it was sure to be of use.
Then there was the gunpowder issue. The last time he checked, there was enough to last him for at least the next blood-moon, but it wasn’t enough for several other firearms, especially if he wanted anything automatic. There were three main ingredients—potassium nitrate, sulfur, and charcoal—which were essential for the production of any explosives. Charcoal was already solved for them, and potassium nitrate could practically be made out of thin air and water, considering they were right by an ocean. Bless the Ostwald process and acid-base neutralization.
The only real issue was sulfur… Christ, natural elements sucked. Either he had to deal with excessive organic recycling of amino acids… or go and mine the stuff directly, and there weren’t any obvious volcanic deposits or fault lines around. Neither of those methods sounded great.
Again, that would have to come later. He needed that fabricator done first and foremost. Then he could deal with the assorted problems that followed it and, well, every other compiling issue. Material harvesting tools, automatic defenses, larger fortifications, and radio-protectant armor were but a few of the big-ticket items on his mind.
Cera’s concoction was still running through his veins anyway, so he might as well finish the printer while he was at it. It looked like he wasn’t sleeping tonight either.
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Hard work. Good company.
submitted by BrodogIsMyName to HFY [link] [comments]
Edited by sensei WaveOfWire
- - - - -
Everything had gone exceptionally well for the farmer, despite the daunting task forced into her talons. Kegara had ordered her to begin a march east in search of the expected banished by sunrise—not alone, but in a group of fourteen others. She thought it was too many for such a task, and would assuredly catch the ire of the abhorrent; the more Malkrin present, the more creatures would pursue them…
It was a risk. One she was willing to take if her beloved was safe, but he pleaded for her to find a way to avoid it. Unfortunately, were she to stay, it would land her in the worst of Kegara's rage. The orange-skinned female would have been made a gruesome example for those who disobeyed, tied up in the center of the camp and… She did not wish to think of what ghastly fate would have awaited her.
So, in the dark of night, her and the baker’s plan of escape was struck. Perhaps it was foolish to leave their safety behind, but considering the blood-moon and forced orders, was it truly ‘safe?’ They would gather their pitiful belongings and set off in the direction of the previously ostracized members—the water worshiper, and four others. There was little hope of finding them, less so after the blood-moon, but with so few of them, there was still a chance they evaded the beasts and the warped oddities of the mainland altogether. Maybe if the field hand and her mate could find them, they could start their own settlement. At least, those were her thoughts when she set out…
Her initial reaction to being thrust into the open wilderness was nothing short of horror. Indistinct animalistic screeches, otherworldly hums, and unsettling creaks from trees sent chills down her spine throughout the night. Hazy shadows underneath the dim moonlight crawled like creatures, stalking… prowling around the mated pair. Every step she made was made in pure uncertainty, every pace bringing her further into an abyss of unseen nightmares. Maybe Kegara would not have punished her so severely… Maybe it would have been best to stay where it was safe.
But, she continued. She stayed strong. She had to.
They had already ventured too far, and it was her job to protect her love. Her tail wrapped possessively around his waist as he stuck close to her. Morning would break soon, and they would be far away from the brutish paladin… Free to start anew. It would be difficult, but the two of them were far from incapable of fending for themselves; they learned enough in the way of survival from their time on the mainland and their respective professions, despite both being from the Golden City.
- - - - -
They were able to survive the night, persevering well into the day by making crude implements and harvesting what they could. They had even managed to discover a large cave perfect for their habitation! It was dry and large enough for a fire, though it went deeper than expected. Food and cooking arrangements were their prerogatives, so they elected not to scour it any further as it would only be a waste of their time. They worked tirelessly until the sun set beyond the red expanse of trees. Her love busied himself with making the smooth gray walls into a home by gathering small resources and forming makeshift beddings, while she had gone out to hunt. By the luck of the Mountain God, she managed to bring back not one but two feathered creatures, each of which were more than plump enough to feed the mated pair for the evening.
Her aching feet patted against the grass, the blades poking her worn soles. The vegetation swayed from side to side in the weak breeze, almost appearing to celebrate her small victory with her. The cavern entrance came into view, its shape too small for her frills to fit under. The edges were covered in pinkish moss, giving it a distinct feel compared to the rest of the biome. Perhaps it was a sign of the Mountain God’s will for them to inhabit it. The moist malleable moss stretched further inside, resembling small veins inside the larger chasm.
She ducked underneath the mouth of the cave, appreciating the yellow reflections of an ongoing fire from within, each flick casting long shadows over every rock edge. Yet once she entered the homely cavity, the flames were the only thing present… Her eyes scanned the room for Baker, only finding an unused leafy bed, piles of edible berries, and a stack of wood. A shock of anxiety bolted up her spine, sharply settling on her frills like cold ice. Where was her mate?
She stepped forward, her webbed toes pressing into… liquid. Her eyes shot toward the ground, the orange-skinned female only now realizing how slick the floor really was. Viscous moisture clung to her leg, stretching across like mucus. The room was… dry before. Her initial thought that it was blood, but that was easily proven false by the thin film’s clear color. That did not ease her worries, however; her betrothed was still out of sight. Perhaps he left to forage, or was possibly looking for her?
A deadened wet thwack from further inside the cave echoed throughout the room, drawing her attention and causing her ears to perk up. Baker…?
She squinted down the black corridor, its sturdy stone now only reflecting the low howl of the cavern’s natural wind. Her eyes stayed locked on it as she slowly grabbed a makeshift torch and set it alight with the campfire. It had to have been her mate down there. Perhaps the tunnel curved so that she was unable to see his torchlight? What was he doing in the dark? Was he searching for something? Food perhaps?
She was already heading toward him before she considered any other possibility. Short drips accompanied her footfalls into the talon-width thick liquid that proliferated along the ground, grabbing onto her every time she raised her foot with a disgusting sucking noise. Her skin soon felt a similar spreading moisture from the humid cave, a low heat building up as she went. It would have been welcoming if not for the sick feeling that settled in her stomach.
The flickers of her torch illuminated the smooth cave walls and the ever-present pink moss that accompanied them. The ‘flora’ grew in volume and presence, stretching everywhere in random lines, often crossing and connecting with one another into larger segments. It eventually lost its fuzzy texture, only a moist reflective red taking its place. The way it almost appeared to… pulse in sync with the surrounding ambience only furthered the notion of veins and arteries…
A creeping sense of wrongness etched itself in her mind. Her ears slowly drooped down and her back hunched as her wide eyes failed to make out anything a pace or two in front of her. She scoured the blackness for anything and everything as the stone path ebbed and flowed, bringing her further down into the heart of Ershah.
thwack
A startling yet familiar noise halted her advance. She stepped back, swiveling her head around wildly to locate its source. Nothing made its presence known. There was only a permeating darkness within the… tunnel… She froze. When did the corridor become so large? Just before, she was able to stretch her arms to reach both sides of the walls, but now… Now it was open like the ocean, the blackness surrounding her entirely, obscuring… everything. She couldn’t see the entrance, nor the ceiling. Her pitiful torch illuminated the ground below her and nothing more.
Plip... Plip… Plip. The dripping continued, now suddenly an overbearing presence… like that of a predator’s breath riding down one’s neck.
Her breathing quickened, eyes widening. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Hesitant paces backward drew her into what she presumed was the direction she came from. It was no use. Further and further she went into the abyss, finding nothing but more of the tenebrous expanse.
The only true sense afforded to her was hearing… Every stifled breath, every wet footstep, and every flick of her torch felt deafening and… revealing. She was but a spark in the wider cavern, waving herself down as prey in the unseen eyes of what awaited her. Something could have been right behind her, and she would have been none the wiser… especially with no wall to guard her back…
A shiver ebbed through her frills. Would it be wise to suffocate her only flame to cover her presence? She stopped her palm from doing so, realizing that the fire was her only light. If its illumination perished, she would be trapped in the abyss with no way out… She needed to leave. She had to find the tunnel. It was—
“Fa…r...mer?” a voice croaked out, its intent shaky and bogged down in black tar.
Her shoulders stiffened, back straightening as she turned toward its direction. It was… Baker’s… but it felt uncanny… foreign. Was that even his? It had to be. M-Maybe he was harmed, too injured to move? Perhaps it was a broken frill? It would make sense. She had to find her mate… no matter how much his pained voice terrified her. That was why she was here in the first place…
The thickness of the viscous ground liquid increased as nervous footsteps brought her closer, the air around her getting warmer with each pace. She called out hesitantly, praying for a positive response.
“B-Baker? Are you there?”
Another wet, fleshy sound echoed through the large cavern, followed by a sickening crack. Then, his voice returned. It was much clearer this time, despite the aura of unsettling… distortion to it.
“Come… closer.”
Her steps were tentative, but she continued forward. Everything around her screamed something was amiss, but that painful string in her heart told her to never let her lover go. He was in pain. He was clearly suffering. Why should she ignore the one who warmed her heart with a simple smile just because she was perturbed by unproven nervousness?
Labored breaths filled her ears as she descended a small incline toward her mate. The shin-high murky liquid at the bottom was ignored, only becoming a small nuisance as her long strides carried her across the unknown fluid. Her motions caused it to sway in all directions, the ripples and turbidity preventing her from seeing what caused the squishy feeling beneath her feet. It smelled putrid, though not like that of rot… The scent was something she could not place, yet it was consuming with how it pierced her nostrils with its presence. It hardly mattered. She was close to him, she could feel his very presence in front of her. She could almost hear the breathing of…
Her torch lit up a rock… no… a figure. It was upright, but its head was pointing downwards. She couldn’t see the legs well, but she did notice how its… his familiar gray arms hung limply.
Baker!
Joy and anxiousness ran thick within her intent. “My dear! Are you okay? W-What has happened to you?”
She received no response for an unsettlingly long moment before his head shook… loosely… Like that of a puppet, reminding her of the black abyss that surrounded everywhere his body was not… It hid something.
“Come… Closer.”
“…W-What? No… M-My Dear… I…” In a moment of fear she raised her torch closer, illuminating everything.
Flesh surrounded him wholly, replacing his legs with undulating tubes and wet meat. Tendrils attached to his back, pulsing from their ceiling-bound origins. His limp arms moved slowly… falling… melting. The very skin slopped off onto into the pile of red beneath him with a sick thwack.
She jumped backwards, but the viscous liquid beneath her held tight. She couldn’t move. Her torch flickered and flared as she fumbled with her footing.
Lumps and nodules swelled from that thing’s chest, the very organs within rearranging. Deafening cracks and vile squelching echoed. The skin down his center slowly tore itself apart, strings of sinew breaking like twine to reveal malformed limbs within.
She ripped her legs from the grappling pond beneath, doing everything in her power to turn away.
But it was no use.
Bolts of force perforated her body. Agony seared every surface of her body.
The chest had burst open, sending several tendrils right through her. They squirmed and extended into her, moving like worms. They ripped and melded to her own flesh. Roaring pain flowed through her being like fire and lightning, consuming her wholly.
She screamed, but nothing escaped her lungs. Blood and tissue filled them. She needed to rip at the invading terror, but could not move. The red abomination pulled them for her; a sickening puppet of muscle.
Everything faded. No pain. No breathing. No sight.
The last thing she saw were the sockets in which her beloved’s gorgeous yellow eyes once laid, now replaced with pulsing meat.
She missed them… dearly.
\= = = = =
Several days of ridicule and a merciless sea voyage were sure to have an adverse effect on one’s mental state—being cast out of one’s own religion even more so. Some would perhaps cope with such by lashing out against those higher up the mountain than themselves. Others might resign themselves to prayer and labor, hoping to fit back into place within God’s graces. However, an exceptional case may change the way one perceives their circumstance.
The script-keeper and her village-mates were hardy people, having survived the worst of the Gods’ trials and then some—rogue waves from the water worshippers, grand storms from the Sky Goddess, and great famines brought from those who sinned before the Mountain God. They persevered through their community, pooling what little they had and relying upon one another to get through. She had seen it for fifty winters.
Now, eight of them have been stripped of those they became interdependent on, thrown forth into an uncertain abyss with only the clothes on their backs. Yet, by the luck of the Gods, the very shore they came upon happened to be owned by that of a diety-sent. Perhaps it was a sign from the Gods that there was hope for them yet…
And it took all of a singular night to prove that assumption correct. The four Malkrin that followed the star-sent freely regaled their struggles with the vile wilderness and the cruelty of the only other settlement before they met with the Creator. Their opinions on Kegara’s settlement were duly noted, but not taken to heart as they were just that: opinions. The script-keeper would have to see it for herself; feeble belief in the words of few should not sway the mind of someone, especially with her profession. Still, the stories of the abhorrent were taken much more seriously, since despite the confidence shared by the few females about defeating them, the elderly Malkrin could certainly see their ears droop in disquietude when the topic was broached. Furthermore, the other more elusive star-sent refused entirely to elaborate on her experience with the beasts when the paladin wrapped her into the conversation.
Fine new clothes, filling meals, and protective castles could only do so much… In the splendor and awe, the script-keeper understood it could only cover up the aching wounds each of the villagers had come here with. She knew the lumberjack quite well, commonly having to assist her with purchasing and selling items across the sea… the very same sea that now separated the woman from her mate. God knows how the wood-cutter felt now.
All the elder knew from the sparse conversations she had with the orange-skinned female was that she wished not to think of it anymore. To which, the harvester did just that, delving into the work allotted to her without a second thought, and basking in the benefits of the star-sent. Much was the same for the others from their island—their hopes of returning to the Land Kingdom having already been thoroughly sundered by the inquisitors. The script-keeper was not privy to everyone’s pains, but she knew they were similarly prepared to shelve them away in service of building themselves anew with this peculiar situation.
\= = = = =
Female Malkrin eat a lot. Seriously, all the meal boxes Harrison and Akula had prepared were ran through like crab rangoons at a buffet. There were a few left, but certainly not enough for dinner that night—and especially not for the winter, much to his displeasure. The engineer wasn’t looking forward to cooking anymore than he already had… But, he had a trick up his sleeve. Not only did the green fisherwoman know how to use the kitchen, but their little camp just so happened to have another who was experienced in the culinary arts.
Around the time they put their tools down for lunch, Harrison was approached by the pink-colored chef who was assisting with some of the masonry prior. He was apprehensive, yet his eyes were practically sparkling when he asked about the barbecue sauce, spices, and common vegetables. The engineer had a bit of time before he needed to get back to work, so he gave in. They conversed about it over their meal, the human explaining the ingredients and methods of making several types of dishes while the several Malkrin in attendance listened intently.
That was around the time he got the idea: why not have Akula teach the cook how to use the barrack’s kitchen? She was pretty reluctant to return to cooking… until he reintroduced her to her new sous-chef, giving her the task of overseeing the male’s modern culinary equipment and meat smoking tutorial.
Harrison didn’t know exactly why she seemed happier then. It could have been something about her prejudices, just having someone else to help her, or something… else… That didn’t matter to him. As long as the job was done, he was happy—especially since it meant he could focus on other projects.
Take the entire home they were building for example; it was practically completed by the time the chefs were sent off to make dinner. They were working on it since dawn—the engineer was still incapable of sleeping—digging the foundation behind the barracks, layering the brick walls, and getting the wooden supports down in record time. Having several extra Malkrin around made the labor requirement almost trivial, even if he needed to ensure they were doing the job right by constantly keeping a close eye on them. It also helped how eager some of them were to settle in with their tasks—the fisher twins and the lumberjack specifically.
The new arrivals were definitely a lot more lively than last night, that was for sure. They held onto caution in the morning, but that broke rather quickly after they got more accustomed to Harrison’s group and received basic clothing—literally just sturdy plaid shirts and black pants. Cera’s—the ceramist’s newly accepted name, created by Tracy’s shorthand of her profession—tendency to look out for the group also had a hand in the change from guarded acceptance to genuine and vocal appreciation. She did as much as she could to ease their burden by offering water or a helping hand whenever she and the lumberjack weren’t busy bringing wheelbarrows full of clay to the workshop. The two new males gladly accepted both, but the females were quite set on keeping their honor, completing their share of the work ‘with their own talons.’
Then, there was the juvenile. He didn’t want to force a kid to work, but the decision apparently wasn’t his. She quietly joined her older village-mates in hauling wheelbarrows full of bricks to and from the workshop. She didn’t seem upset nor did she seem too enthused about it. His singular attempt to persuade her otherwise was only returned with a terse shake of her head before she continued working. She didn’t like to show much emotion, that was for sure. Were all Malkrin teens like that, or was it because of her situation? Christ… the fact that she was sent to the mainland without her parents—or at all—rubbed him the wrong way. It was fucked, but at least she would be safe here… or as ‘safe’ as was possible.
That was the other job of the day: defense via the new fabricator. Tracy helped out a good bit with organizing and designing the second barracks for the first half of the day, thoroughly combing through the engineer’s ideas and ripping out the ‘brutalist’ and ‘soul-crushing’ lack of ‘real’ architecture. She inserted her own ideas, further backed up by the input of Craftsman’s prior experience, making for an admittedly more pleasant-looking layout of the house’s exterior and interior. It would end up looking vaguely like a white-brick colonial house, but with less ‘posh noble,’ instead making use of Germanic-style exterior wooden supports. It was just big enough to fit eight Malkrin-sized cots, space for movement between them, and all the basics such as lighting, airflow, and a little bit of storage on top—because, what was a building without storage? Luckily for the tradeswoman, it hardly used any more resources than his original plans, so he allowed it.
After that, Tracy realized there wasn’t much else for her to do, so she returned to their other project. The technician did well in assembling the most basic parts, working well throughout the day to complete the forging and welding components. Again, having someone else to do help with a job that big was a massive blessing, cutting off hours of time he would have had to slave away in the workshop.
Hours of time that he was able to use for overseeing the now-completed barracks, simultaneously teaching the Malkrin and getting a feel for how to best utilize their strengths with a substantial amount of help from the craftsman. The male did a bang-up job at explaining tasks and concepts to the others. Much better than Harrison was able to. Once more, it was a job the engineer was more than happy to let someone else take off his hands. The olive-colored Male was perfect for the job anyway, having the technical know-how and experience explaining similar things to Malkrin back on the islands, so the pioneer trusted the task to be completed with little issue.
Now, the day was finally reaching a close, ending with the settlement eating their dinner by the fire. There were a few more benches made to give everyone a seat. That meant the radius had to be extended somewhat, but that wasn’t anything a bigger fire couldn’t fix. Plus, the alien’s intent meant that he could still hear clearly from anyone around the pyre.
The muted sounds of silverware clanking against meal boxes and plates were muddled by the constant breeze. The flames lazily flickered in all directions, casting shadows along the flowing grass, each person in attendance being doused in a mellow orange. The Malkrin conversed with one another over their meals, each sitting in pairs on the furniture. Shar was out on guard patrol, so Tracy ended up taking the seat beside him. It was a bit of a surprise given how much she preferred to stay in the workshop, but he didn’t mind her taking a break—she deserved it. If anything, it should have been him on the fabrication floor, picking up where she left off.
“…Hey…” Tracy’s soft, worried voice took him from his thoughts.
“Hm?” He lazily looked down at the shorter woman beside him, her legs swinging as they couldn’t quite reach the ground.
She worriedly raised her brows. “You alright, dude? You’ve had some major bruised eye action going on all day. Did you even get any sleep? I didn’t even see you when I woke up.”
“No, I actually didn’t—” He held up a palm, stopping the technician’s troubled response. “—but it’s more because of that potion… thingy… Cera gave me. I don’t feel tired at all.”
Her face contorted in confusion, the shadows cast by the fire’s glow emphasizing it further. “The… potion…? Oh, yeaaaah, right. It was supposed to help you with dizziness, I think, but it also prevents you from feeling tired. How does it even feel? Like taking an energy drink, or something else?”
He held out his arm, tracing a finger along it. “I just feel like I’ve got pins and needles all along my skin… and I don’t feel like sleeping. That’s it really, so sort of like taking a bunch of caffeine.”
Her brows dropped in faux-annoyance. “That can not be healthy for you. Have you checked up on yourself with the scanner? If not for that, then at least the radiation? Maybe the fuzzy stuff is from all those grays of radiation you received?”
“I did… I did, don’t worry. The scanner had nothing besides the usual, so I guess it was just a good bit of caffeine or something… I don’t know. It’ll probably wear off soon, though.”
She nodded, returning her gaze to the fire. Her voice mellowed, just barely loud enough to reach his ears. “Good. The aliens were worried sick about you, yesterday, ya know—Shar ‘specially… and so was I…”
He hardly heard that last part, barely able to piece it together seconds after she muttered it. He wasn’t trying to make them worried, it was just a part of being on this planet. Every day was a new close call. The first blood moon, that pink monster, the workshop ambush, the second blood moon, and now the anomaly field all terrified him, haunting his very dreams with brief flashbacks of those sights and sounds. Though, they all served to teach him, forcing him to stay on his toes and never stay complacent… Which was something he was doing now.
He had plans in the works already—the new fabricator being the crux of at least half of them—but what could he do currently? How could he prepare? Or, at the very least, what could he do to advance the group further?
Their day-to-day jobs had already been discussed, plans for a new wood storage building were already made, and his work on the printer was cut out for him tonight… Okay. Well, what could he prepare for in the future? Defense? Of course, now that people were going to be out doing their own jobs, they would be too spread out to protect everyone at once.
There were two components to any solution for that problem: reconnaissance and protection. The first was self-explanatory. If he had, say, a few dozen drones scouting around where people were, it would take a lot of the surprise out of random swarms. That would give people time to either return to the castles… modules… or prepare themselves to take the bugs on. That led him to the second part. Firearms help to kill spider-crabs, but are also pretty dangerous in the wrong hands… He was more than willing to trust the Malkrin he knew with guns to defend themselves, but he couldn’t just start handing them out to strangers. Maybe in time, though. There were always other means of protection, anyway; Kegara’s camp was apparently alive and well, despite practically being from the stone ages.
Cera, Akula, and Shar were most certainly getting some firepower, that was for sure. He’d have to think about what sort of weapons would suit them. That also brought up the current metal deficit… and his gunpowder was running out quite quickly…
That was definitely something he wanted to get on before the next blood moon. He wanted to revisit that metal cave he saw when the paladin and the fisherwoman got cornered by three colossi. He hadn’t analyzed the chunk of ore he hacked off yet—he’d been pretty damn busy—so it was about time he figured out whether or not he had a nearby source of metals. It would be a damn blessing if it was aluminum or iron, despite only being a surface deposit. No matter what it was, it was sure to be of use.
Then there was the gunpowder issue. The last time he checked, there was enough to last him for at least the next blood-moon, but it wasn’t enough for several other firearms, especially if he wanted anything automatic. There were three main ingredients—potassium nitrate, sulfur, and charcoal—which were essential for the production of any explosives. Charcoal was already solved for them, and potassium nitrate could practically be made out of thin air and water, considering they were right by an ocean. Bless the Ostwald process and acid-base neutralization.
The only real issue was sulfur… Christ, natural elements sucked. Either he had to deal with excessive organic recycling of amino acids… or go and mine the stuff directly, and there weren’t any obvious volcanic deposits or fault lines around. Neither of those methods sounded great.
Again, that would have to come later. He needed that fabricator done first and foremost. Then he could deal with the assorted problems that followed it and, well, every other compiling issue. Material harvesting tools, automatic defenses, larger fortifications, and radio-protectant armor were but a few of the big-ticket items on his mind.
Cera’s concoction was still running through his veins anyway, so he might as well finish the printer while he was at it. It looked like he wasn’t sleeping tonight either.
- - - - -
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Hard work. Good company.
2024.05.11 20:01 Rebellion_Protocol Did the Gnus.AI Discord breach lead to $1.27M in damage?
Surprisingly, DeFi projects aren't immune to the ever-growing list of online pranksters. Gnus.AI experienced this first-hand, thanks to a Discord hack that set them back a whopping $1.27M, which is approximately my monthly coffee budget. This tragedy inspired me to coin the term 'The Sleight Of Hack,' referring to those moments when a hacker makes such a quiet entrance, nobody realizes until it's too late. Was Gnus.AI snoozing on the job, or is Discord's supposedly secure platform actually a warm, welcoming place for hackers?
Nevertheless, let's not blame Gnus.AI entirely here. Should we point fingers at them for not catching the security lapses, or should we stare disapprovingly at Discord for creating an easily attackable platform? Time to think, people!
So to all you decentralization dreamers, wakey, wakey. DeFi isn't all cotton candy and summer vacations. Regardless of how much faith you put in your security protocols, a malicious genius can burst your bubble and ransack the place. Build your metaphorical security fortress, but don't forget to double, triple, quadruple check the locks.
Through all this chaos, here's to hoping Gnus.AI can course correct. All of us, meanwhile, need to adopt a healthy dose of paranoia, cause in the DeFi world, it's survival of the cautious. And to my friends at Gnus.AI, might I propose investing in a good encrypted messaging service next time?
If you got a kick from this post, why not leave a comment, or better yet, show appreciation with an Upvote? Love decentralized finance scandals much? Then why not share the story and add some spice to the DeFi conversations? Remember, sharing is caring, or in this case, sharing is snaring. Can you avoid the next 'Sleight of Hack?' Your turn, Gnus.AI, ready to play a better defense game?
submitted by Rebellion_Protocol to DailyLedger [link] [comments]
Nevertheless, let's not blame Gnus.AI entirely here. Should we point fingers at them for not catching the security lapses, or should we stare disapprovingly at Discord for creating an easily attackable platform? Time to think, people!
So to all you decentralization dreamers, wakey, wakey. DeFi isn't all cotton candy and summer vacations. Regardless of how much faith you put in your security protocols, a malicious genius can burst your bubble and ransack the place. Build your metaphorical security fortress, but don't forget to double, triple, quadruple check the locks.
Through all this chaos, here's to hoping Gnus.AI can course correct. All of us, meanwhile, need to adopt a healthy dose of paranoia, cause in the DeFi world, it's survival of the cautious. And to my friends at Gnus.AI, might I propose investing in a good encrypted messaging service next time?
If you got a kick from this post, why not leave a comment, or better yet, show appreciation with an Upvote? Love decentralized finance scandals much? Then why not share the story and add some spice to the DeFi conversations? Remember, sharing is caring, or in this case, sharing is snaring. Can you avoid the next 'Sleight of Hack?' Your turn, Gnus.AI, ready to play a better defense game?
2024.05.11 04:01 EliasAhmedinos Something followed my Aunt back from Bangladesh
This is my Aunt's story which happened to her when she was fifteen, back in the early 2000s.
My family are from London but we are ethnically Bengali. This story starts when my Aunt and her family all went for a trip back to our ancestral country of Bangladesh.
They visited her father's village, or I should say my grandfather's village. It was in the middle of nowhere surrounded by endless paddy fields. The village consisted of a few really old houses, dating back to the days of colonial Britain, all built around a big pond. There was a small mosque nearby and further away from the mosque, was a small forest. My Aunt and her siblings were told by the village elders not to venture into the forest, where there was an old banyan tree. According to them, that specific banyan tree was supposedly haunted.
One evening my Aunt and her siblings along with some of the village children went into the forest to play, despite being warned not to go over there. The village children assured that they played in the forest many times and nothing happened to them, as long as they didn't go near that tree. The children showed my Aunt and her siblings the infamous tree and they all agreed to stay away.
The tree looked very old and creepy with its trunk twisted and its branches protruding far and wide. Despite its appearance, my Aunt was not so gullible, as being one of the older children in her family. She found all this talk of haunted trees to be silly and just a tall tale told by the elders of the village to scare the children. However she agreed to stay away.
My Aunt wasn't playing as she felt that she was too old for such childish games and was only there to supervise the youngsters. The kids started playing 'It' then afterwards played 'Hide and Seek'. The village children started begging my Aunt to play with them and to be the seeker. After a while of persuading, she agreed and reluctantly started to count as the kids started to run and look for the best places to hide. Once she was done counting, she went on the hunt to look for them. She managed to find a few of the kids quick enough, mainly the younger ones, but a few were left yet to be found deeper in the forest.
My Aunt walked further in and shortly after she happened to stumble upon the banyan tree. She smirked and decided to caress the ancient bark of the tree, going against her promise. She saw that one of the tree's boughs hung low and thought it would be a nice spot to sit for a while and take in the scenery. After the short respite, she pressed on. When she found all the kids, they all decided to finish the game as it was dusk and the forest was growing dark. Everyone heard the call to prayer from the mosque nearby, so they all proceeded to walk out of the forest and back home.
That night, my Aunt awoke mid sleep due to the heat. In the village there were no street lights so everything was pitch black and all you could hear were the sounds of crickets and frogs from the pond. She tossed and turned as she tried to go back to sleep but started hearing a peculiar noise outside her open window. It was a metallic clinking sound. The sound grew persistant, clinking every second. She looked through the grate of the window and saw nothing but the night staring back at her. She decided to call out quietly hoping for a response, but nothing. Shortly after, the sound stopped so my Aunt brushed it off thinking nothing of it and went back to sleep.
After a few days, the family left my grandfather's village and were heading back to the city airport. Their trip had come to an end and it was time to return home, back to the UK. While they were saying farewell to everyone my Aunt saw a woman further behind from everyone else, staring at her. My Aunt never seen that woman before during their stay. She thought why no one had introduced her to the woman as the village was all family orientated. What was very strange was that the woman was dressed in a traditional red bridal saree with a garland around her neck, golden bangles on her wrists and a headpiece hanging down her forehead. My Aunt asked one of her sisters who that bride was but her sister couldn't give her an answer due to the commotion.
When they were at the airport and lining up to be boarded, my Aunt's eyes wondered around. Nothing but families all seated and waiting for their respective flights. She then caught a glimpse of a woman in a peculiar red saree. She realised it was that same woman from the village. The woman was further away from the waiting line, just standing in one place and looking at people walk past her. My Aunt found it odd that she was at the same airport as them despite being seen at the village earlier. Also what was strange was that the woman was in a bride's attire in the middle of a busy airport, which would be completely unheard of over there. She had no luggage with her or anyone accompanying her.
On board the plane, my Aunt was coming back from the bathroom and was suprised to see the woman again, sitting alone and staring out of the window. She asked my grandmother that she had seen the woman in the village and asked who she was. My grandmother was too tired to answer and dismissed her question. My Aunt concluded that the woman must have been from one of the nearby villages and was passing through their's as she was also heading towards the airport. She then tried to forget all about it.
Back home in London, after a good few days, my Aunt and her family all went to visit another one of my uncles' house. It was tradition to visit relatives when returning home, back from a visit to Bangladesh. When they all entered the living room and greeted everyone, my Aunt was absolutely shocked to see the same familiar woman in the red saree from the village and the plane. My Aunt was very puzzled but thought that the woman must have been related to the family. This was proof.
Everyone was talking and my grandfather was recounting their time in the old country. My Aunt was watching the woman and found it weird that she was just standing in the corner just listening to the conversation. My Aunt also realised that the woman never spoke a single word and couldn't recall anyone ever speaking to her since they entered the house. She wondered why the woman was still dressed up as a bride and found it very bizarre.
When it was time to eat, everyone was getting ready to sit down at the table. My Aunt was one of the last ones to get up but realised the woman was staring at her and smiling. She decided to say hello to the woman and ask her who she was in Bengali. The woman didn't respond, she just continued to smile at my Aunt. She thought the woman was just shy as that was quite normal behaviour for village women in Bangladesh. She felt abit awkward and started complimenting on the woman's attire and her payal anklets. "Who are you speaking to?" My uncle said across the room in Bengali. The room was silent and everyone was staring at my Aunt in confusion. My Aunt pointed at the woman, bewildered by my uncle's question. "What? There's no one there." My Aunt's sister responded. My Aunt thought everyone was playing a joke on her but shortly after realised they were all being serious. She started to freak out. She kept saying that there was a woman in the room but everyone kept insisting that there wasn't anyone there. Everyone started worrying as my Aunt was hyperventilating at the sight of the mysterious red figure smiling back at her. She eventually passed out.
A while later, my Aunt came around and found herself lying on the couch, resting her head on my grandmother's lap and her sisters all huddled beside her. My Aunt didn't see the woman anymore where she had been previously standing. My Aunt darted her eyes around the room to double check if the woman was still there. She wasn't.
On the opposite couch, there was an imam from the local mosque. He was a family friend and a respected community leader called over by my uncle. The imam asked my Aunt what happened and she explained that she saw the woman first in the village and kept seeing her until that very day and only she was able to see her, as confirmed by everyone else. After careful consideration, the imam said it sounded like some nefarious entity had followed her from the village and latched itself on to her.
My grandfather started to interrogate my Aunt about the forest and the old banyan tree and eventually she admitted to everyone that she sat on the bough of the tree. When my grandfather heard that, he got very angry and scolded her. He repeated that tree was haunted and questioned why she didn't listen to the village elders. My Aunt explained that she thought it was all a joke. When the imam asked why my grandfather had thought that the tree was haunted, my grandfather never gave an explanation and said that he would tell him afterwards in private.
The imam recited some prayers and blew on my Aunt. My Aunt couldn't remember most of that encounter as she blacked out again however, according to everyone present in the room, she started to freak out and started to act manic when she heard the prayers. She started growling and her eyes looked like they were about to burst from their sockets. She attempted to lunge at the imam, but everyone held her down. A while later, the imam left the house and eventually returned back and gave her special water to drink daily and oil to rub her body with after everytime she bathed. This was all part of a long exorcism process known as 'ruqya', in arabic.
That night, my Aunt was too afraid to sleep so my grandmother slept in the same bed next to her while one of her sisters slept on the top bunk. My Aunt awoke after a long slumber. Her eyes started slowly adjusting to the darkness but she was still in a sleepy haze. She realised she could hear a clinking sound to her right towards the window. She thought it was her sister causing a racket so she groggily told her to be quiet. When the noise didn't relent, my Aunt turned and looked towards the window. It wasn't her sister. To her absolute horror my Aunt saw a dark figure sitting on the windowsill. She quickly realised that the metallic sound were the sounds of bangles and anklets being played with. My Aunt's eyes fully adjusted to the dark and it became evident that the figure was indeed that of the woman. My Aunt screamed her lungs out and the whole house awoke.
The second visit from the imam explained to my Aunt that whatever she kept seeing would not go away on its own. She would continue to see it unless she completed her religious treatment which he reminded her, was a very long process. My Aunt's family was certain that it was a spiritual matter and not a psychological one. My Aunt never displayed any signs of mental illness in the past.
Days passed and my Aunt saw the woman everywhere, though she did get occasional respites from the woman. The woman would show up one day and might follow my Aunt wherever she went, but the next couple of days would not be seen at all.
She would see the woman at school standing by the whiteboard in her classroom, looking at the pupils like she was teaching the lesson. The woman would be seen when my Aunt was hanging out with her mates in the park after school, just watching them from the trees. When my Aunt would go shopping in the supermarket with her family, the woman was there waiting for her at the aisles and always followed them far behind as they shopped. Someday it would be in the same room as my Aunt, other days it would be seen through the window on the street. Some nights when my Aunt was laying in bed, she would hear the slow clinking sound of the woman's anklets going up the stairs. The sound would stop whenever it reached my Aunt's bedroom door, as if the figure was waiting to be let in. The woman once was encountered when the family were all sitting at the table to eat and my Aunt found her sitting under the table with her forehead resting on her knees. She screamed surprisingly but quickly disregarded the matter in order to not scare her family.
The ominous figure never spoke. It never harmed my Aunt directly or made any threatening acts towards her. The woman just smiled that eerie smile. My Aunt continued her religious treatment which in turn made her very weak and sapped her spirit. The imam would visit her often and she would have many more exorcism rituals carried out on her, all she could never recount.
My Aunt tried her best to get on with her life and started to get used to the figure always being around that she stopped feeling afraid of it. She even started to talk to it. She used to talk about random things and the woman just responded with silence. Although she got close to the figure at times, my Aunt never dared to touch it.
A couple of years passed and the mysterious woman would appear less frequently, like only a couple of times a month. Eventually she stopped appearing altogether and was gone for good. My Aunt completed her years long spiritual treatment. She felt a huge relief but at the same time in a very bizarre and twisted way, she felt sad and empty. That figure was in her life for so long that she grew so accustomed to it and saw it as normal. For her not seeing the woman anymore was a huge change in reality. This whole ordeal did take a huge mental toll on her throughout the couple of years and my Aunt was never truly the same after that.
One afternoon my grandfather decided to shed some light into the past as he felt like it was the right time for my Aunt to learn the truth. He showed her a very old black and white photograph dating back to the 50s. It was him and his parents and siblings all in a family portrait. My Aunt`s eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she saw an old familiar face in the centre of the photo. It was her. The woman in the bridal saree. Garland, bangles, everything. She was next to a man dressed as a groom.
My grandfather explained to her that long ago, he had a sister. That photo was from her wedding day. The story was that she was married to a man from the neighbouring village but she did not want to get married to him. My grandfather's sister was at first promised to another suitor since they were children. A good, kind man from another nearby village. She grew up with the idea that she would marry that man when she came of age. However the man she actually ended up marriying offered a larger dowry and so her father then changed his mind and instead accepted that man to take his daughter's hand despite the previous arrangement and his daughter's protest. In Bangladesh it's the father's word over his daughter`s wishes and she was doomed to spend her entire life with a man she did not desire. So in the night, after the marriage ceremony was completed, she was due to move in with the groom and his family and relocate to the other village. My grandfather's sister did not hesitate and ran off in a frenzy in the dark, never to be seen again on her wedding night. The next morning when she was found, it was deep in the forest, and hanging by her neck from a branch of the old banyan tree. My Aunt could not believe it while she heard the story as her eyes welled up with tears.
When the imam visited the house one day he clarified that, what my Aunt encountered was not my grandfather's sister. It was a jinn who took the form of her and followed my Aunt back home to London. For those who don't know, jinns are demons in the Islamic world. In Islam, there is no notion of ghosts being trapped in their last moments of life. There's only the jinn that imitate the deceased person and prey upon people.
The reason why the old banyan tree was perceived as haunted by the villagers was not only because of my grandaunt's tragic demise. A few other horrific events happened revolving that tree in the past. Once a passing traveler was caught stealing jewellery from the village and was chased by the villagers into the forest and was hacked to death with machetes. The thief's body was slumped down resting on the trunk of the banyan tree with his blood painting the bark red. Another story was that a witch was caught doing black magic deep in the forest where bloody menstrual rags and torn up pages of the qur'an with black markings and grids scribbled all over, were found hanging from the tree.
Whoever interacted with that tree always reported to experience some sort of supernatural activity one way or another. That day, when my Aunt first explained to everyone about the woman, my grandfather had a strong feeling that she was talking about his deceased sister.
I didn't remember this whole ordeal when it happened at the time because I was very young, but the story was told to me by various family members when I was older. It was only recently that my Aunt and I were talking at a family function and she retold her story to me herself in the utmost detail. Her story was always the focal point whenever the subject of the paranormal arose during family conversations.
A couple of people think my Aunt was just suffering from mental illness during that time, although this doesn't make any sense. My Aunt never knew of my grandfather's sister before that revelation. My grandfather never once mentioned or showed a picture of his sister to either my Aunt or her siblings while they were growing up, neither did my grandmother. It was a painful, touchy subject and it was never heard or mentioned. I believe my Aunt and this was very real to her and it greatly impacted her life growing up as it permanently left a mark on her. I'm just glad that she is back to normal and that the woman in the red saree was gone for good.
I have more scary stories which happened to other family members so if you would like to hear them, let me know.
submitted by EliasAhmedinos to Paranormal [link] [comments]
My family are from London but we are ethnically Bengali. This story starts when my Aunt and her family all went for a trip back to our ancestral country of Bangladesh.
They visited her father's village, or I should say my grandfather's village. It was in the middle of nowhere surrounded by endless paddy fields. The village consisted of a few really old houses, dating back to the days of colonial Britain, all built around a big pond. There was a small mosque nearby and further away from the mosque, was a small forest. My Aunt and her siblings were told by the village elders not to venture into the forest, where there was an old banyan tree. According to them, that specific banyan tree was supposedly haunted.
One evening my Aunt and her siblings along with some of the village children went into the forest to play, despite being warned not to go over there. The village children assured that they played in the forest many times and nothing happened to them, as long as they didn't go near that tree. The children showed my Aunt and her siblings the infamous tree and they all agreed to stay away.
The tree looked very old and creepy with its trunk twisted and its branches protruding far and wide. Despite its appearance, my Aunt was not so gullible, as being one of the older children in her family. She found all this talk of haunted trees to be silly and just a tall tale told by the elders of the village to scare the children. However she agreed to stay away.
My Aunt wasn't playing as she felt that she was too old for such childish games and was only there to supervise the youngsters. The kids started playing 'It' then afterwards played 'Hide and Seek'. The village children started begging my Aunt to play with them and to be the seeker. After a while of persuading, she agreed and reluctantly started to count as the kids started to run and look for the best places to hide. Once she was done counting, she went on the hunt to look for them. She managed to find a few of the kids quick enough, mainly the younger ones, but a few were left yet to be found deeper in the forest.
My Aunt walked further in and shortly after she happened to stumble upon the banyan tree. She smirked and decided to caress the ancient bark of the tree, going against her promise. She saw that one of the tree's boughs hung low and thought it would be a nice spot to sit for a while and take in the scenery. After the short respite, she pressed on. When she found all the kids, they all decided to finish the game as it was dusk and the forest was growing dark. Everyone heard the call to prayer from the mosque nearby, so they all proceeded to walk out of the forest and back home.
That night, my Aunt awoke mid sleep due to the heat. In the village there were no street lights so everything was pitch black and all you could hear were the sounds of crickets and frogs from the pond. She tossed and turned as she tried to go back to sleep but started hearing a peculiar noise outside her open window. It was a metallic clinking sound. The sound grew persistant, clinking every second. She looked through the grate of the window and saw nothing but the night staring back at her. She decided to call out quietly hoping for a response, but nothing. Shortly after, the sound stopped so my Aunt brushed it off thinking nothing of it and went back to sleep.
After a few days, the family left my grandfather's village and were heading back to the city airport. Their trip had come to an end and it was time to return home, back to the UK. While they were saying farewell to everyone my Aunt saw a woman further behind from everyone else, staring at her. My Aunt never seen that woman before during their stay. She thought why no one had introduced her to the woman as the village was all family orientated. What was very strange was that the woman was dressed in a traditional red bridal saree with a garland around her neck, golden bangles on her wrists and a headpiece hanging down her forehead. My Aunt asked one of her sisters who that bride was but her sister couldn't give her an answer due to the commotion.
When they were at the airport and lining up to be boarded, my Aunt's eyes wondered around. Nothing but families all seated and waiting for their respective flights. She then caught a glimpse of a woman in a peculiar red saree. She realised it was that same woman from the village. The woman was further away from the waiting line, just standing in one place and looking at people walk past her. My Aunt found it odd that she was at the same airport as them despite being seen at the village earlier. Also what was strange was that the woman was in a bride's attire in the middle of a busy airport, which would be completely unheard of over there. She had no luggage with her or anyone accompanying her.
On board the plane, my Aunt was coming back from the bathroom and was suprised to see the woman again, sitting alone and staring out of the window. She asked my grandmother that she had seen the woman in the village and asked who she was. My grandmother was too tired to answer and dismissed her question. My Aunt concluded that the woman must have been from one of the nearby villages and was passing through their's as she was also heading towards the airport. She then tried to forget all about it.
Back home in London, after a good few days, my Aunt and her family all went to visit another one of my uncles' house. It was tradition to visit relatives when returning home, back from a visit to Bangladesh. When they all entered the living room and greeted everyone, my Aunt was absolutely shocked to see the same familiar woman in the red saree from the village and the plane. My Aunt was very puzzled but thought that the woman must have been related to the family. This was proof.
Everyone was talking and my grandfather was recounting their time in the old country. My Aunt was watching the woman and found it weird that she was just standing in the corner just listening to the conversation. My Aunt also realised that the woman never spoke a single word and couldn't recall anyone ever speaking to her since they entered the house. She wondered why the woman was still dressed up as a bride and found it very bizarre.
When it was time to eat, everyone was getting ready to sit down at the table. My Aunt was one of the last ones to get up but realised the woman was staring at her and smiling. She decided to say hello to the woman and ask her who she was in Bengali. The woman didn't respond, she just continued to smile at my Aunt. She thought the woman was just shy as that was quite normal behaviour for village women in Bangladesh. She felt abit awkward and started complimenting on the woman's attire and her payal anklets. "Who are you speaking to?" My uncle said across the room in Bengali. The room was silent and everyone was staring at my Aunt in confusion. My Aunt pointed at the woman, bewildered by my uncle's question. "What? There's no one there." My Aunt's sister responded. My Aunt thought everyone was playing a joke on her but shortly after realised they were all being serious. She started to freak out. She kept saying that there was a woman in the room but everyone kept insisting that there wasn't anyone there. Everyone started worrying as my Aunt was hyperventilating at the sight of the mysterious red figure smiling back at her. She eventually passed out.
A while later, my Aunt came around and found herself lying on the couch, resting her head on my grandmother's lap and her sisters all huddled beside her. My Aunt didn't see the woman anymore where she had been previously standing. My Aunt darted her eyes around the room to double check if the woman was still there. She wasn't.
On the opposite couch, there was an imam from the local mosque. He was a family friend and a respected community leader called over by my uncle. The imam asked my Aunt what happened and she explained that she saw the woman first in the village and kept seeing her until that very day and only she was able to see her, as confirmed by everyone else. After careful consideration, the imam said it sounded like some nefarious entity had followed her from the village and latched itself on to her.
My grandfather started to interrogate my Aunt about the forest and the old banyan tree and eventually she admitted to everyone that she sat on the bough of the tree. When my grandfather heard that, he got very angry and scolded her. He repeated that tree was haunted and questioned why she didn't listen to the village elders. My Aunt explained that she thought it was all a joke. When the imam asked why my grandfather had thought that the tree was haunted, my grandfather never gave an explanation and said that he would tell him afterwards in private.
The imam recited some prayers and blew on my Aunt. My Aunt couldn't remember most of that encounter as she blacked out again however, according to everyone present in the room, she started to freak out and started to act manic when she heard the prayers. She started growling and her eyes looked like they were about to burst from their sockets. She attempted to lunge at the imam, but everyone held her down. A while later, the imam left the house and eventually returned back and gave her special water to drink daily and oil to rub her body with after everytime she bathed. This was all part of a long exorcism process known as 'ruqya', in arabic.
That night, my Aunt was too afraid to sleep so my grandmother slept in the same bed next to her while one of her sisters slept on the top bunk. My Aunt awoke after a long slumber. Her eyes started slowly adjusting to the darkness but she was still in a sleepy haze. She realised she could hear a clinking sound to her right towards the window. She thought it was her sister causing a racket so she groggily told her to be quiet. When the noise didn't relent, my Aunt turned and looked towards the window. It wasn't her sister. To her absolute horror my Aunt saw a dark figure sitting on the windowsill. She quickly realised that the metallic sound were the sounds of bangles and anklets being played with. My Aunt's eyes fully adjusted to the dark and it became evident that the figure was indeed that of the woman. My Aunt screamed her lungs out and the whole house awoke.
The second visit from the imam explained to my Aunt that whatever she kept seeing would not go away on its own. She would continue to see it unless she completed her religious treatment which he reminded her, was a very long process. My Aunt's family was certain that it was a spiritual matter and not a psychological one. My Aunt never displayed any signs of mental illness in the past.
Days passed and my Aunt saw the woman everywhere, though she did get occasional respites from the woman. The woman would show up one day and might follow my Aunt wherever she went, but the next couple of days would not be seen at all.
She would see the woman at school standing by the whiteboard in her classroom, looking at the pupils like she was teaching the lesson. The woman would be seen when my Aunt was hanging out with her mates in the park after school, just watching them from the trees. When my Aunt would go shopping in the supermarket with her family, the woman was there waiting for her at the aisles and always followed them far behind as they shopped. Someday it would be in the same room as my Aunt, other days it would be seen through the window on the street. Some nights when my Aunt was laying in bed, she would hear the slow clinking sound of the woman's anklets going up the stairs. The sound would stop whenever it reached my Aunt's bedroom door, as if the figure was waiting to be let in. The woman once was encountered when the family were all sitting at the table to eat and my Aunt found her sitting under the table with her forehead resting on her knees. She screamed surprisingly but quickly disregarded the matter in order to not scare her family.
The ominous figure never spoke. It never harmed my Aunt directly or made any threatening acts towards her. The woman just smiled that eerie smile. My Aunt continued her religious treatment which in turn made her very weak and sapped her spirit. The imam would visit her often and she would have many more exorcism rituals carried out on her, all she could never recount.
My Aunt tried her best to get on with her life and started to get used to the figure always being around that she stopped feeling afraid of it. She even started to talk to it. She used to talk about random things and the woman just responded with silence. Although she got close to the figure at times, my Aunt never dared to touch it.
A couple of years passed and the mysterious woman would appear less frequently, like only a couple of times a month. Eventually she stopped appearing altogether and was gone for good. My Aunt completed her years long spiritual treatment. She felt a huge relief but at the same time in a very bizarre and twisted way, she felt sad and empty. That figure was in her life for so long that she grew so accustomed to it and saw it as normal. For her not seeing the woman anymore was a huge change in reality. This whole ordeal did take a huge mental toll on her throughout the couple of years and my Aunt was never truly the same after that.
One afternoon my grandfather decided to shed some light into the past as he felt like it was the right time for my Aunt to learn the truth. He showed her a very old black and white photograph dating back to the 50s. It was him and his parents and siblings all in a family portrait. My Aunt`s eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she saw an old familiar face in the centre of the photo. It was her. The woman in the bridal saree. Garland, bangles, everything. She was next to a man dressed as a groom.
My grandfather explained to her that long ago, he had a sister. That photo was from her wedding day. The story was that she was married to a man from the neighbouring village but she did not want to get married to him. My grandfather's sister was at first promised to another suitor since they were children. A good, kind man from another nearby village. She grew up with the idea that she would marry that man when she came of age. However the man she actually ended up marriying offered a larger dowry and so her father then changed his mind and instead accepted that man to take his daughter's hand despite the previous arrangement and his daughter's protest. In Bangladesh it's the father's word over his daughter`s wishes and she was doomed to spend her entire life with a man she did not desire. So in the night, after the marriage ceremony was completed, she was due to move in with the groom and his family and relocate to the other village. My grandfather's sister did not hesitate and ran off in a frenzy in the dark, never to be seen again on her wedding night. The next morning when she was found, it was deep in the forest, and hanging by her neck from a branch of the old banyan tree. My Aunt could not believe it while she heard the story as her eyes welled up with tears.
When the imam visited the house one day he clarified that, what my Aunt encountered was not my grandfather's sister. It was a jinn who took the form of her and followed my Aunt back home to London. For those who don't know, jinns are demons in the Islamic world. In Islam, there is no notion of ghosts being trapped in their last moments of life. There's only the jinn that imitate the deceased person and prey upon people.
The reason why the old banyan tree was perceived as haunted by the villagers was not only because of my grandaunt's tragic demise. A few other horrific events happened revolving that tree in the past. Once a passing traveler was caught stealing jewellery from the village and was chased by the villagers into the forest and was hacked to death with machetes. The thief's body was slumped down resting on the trunk of the banyan tree with his blood painting the bark red. Another story was that a witch was caught doing black magic deep in the forest where bloody menstrual rags and torn up pages of the qur'an with black markings and grids scribbled all over, were found hanging from the tree.
Whoever interacted with that tree always reported to experience some sort of supernatural activity one way or another. That day, when my Aunt first explained to everyone about the woman, my grandfather had a strong feeling that she was talking about his deceased sister.
I didn't remember this whole ordeal when it happened at the time because I was very young, but the story was told to me by various family members when I was older. It was only recently that my Aunt and I were talking at a family function and she retold her story to me herself in the utmost detail. Her story was always the focal point whenever the subject of the paranormal arose during family conversations.
A couple of people think my Aunt was just suffering from mental illness during that time, although this doesn't make any sense. My Aunt never knew of my grandfather's sister before that revelation. My grandfather never once mentioned or showed a picture of his sister to either my Aunt or her siblings while they were growing up, neither did my grandmother. It was a painful, touchy subject and it was never heard or mentioned. I believe my Aunt and this was very real to her and it greatly impacted her life growing up as it permanently left a mark on her. I'm just glad that she is back to normal and that the woman in the red saree was gone for good.
I have more scary stories which happened to other family members so if you would like to hear them, let me know.
2024.05.10 22:57 Have-a-cuppa Saga Incursions
Hey everyone,
With the new Saga Incursions hacks going on, what are some interesting combinations you've found?
I'm thinking Toad with Unstoppably Healthy, Toxic Advance, and Armor Burst hacks could be a heck of a combo.
submitted by Have-a-cuppa to ContestOfChampions [link] [comments]
With the new Saga Incursions hacks going on, what are some interesting combinations you've found?
I'm thinking Toad with Unstoppably Healthy, Toxic Advance, and Armor Burst hacks could be a heck of a combo.
2024.05.10 11:48 CIAHerpes Something called the Demon Emergency Alert Broadcast System just flashed across my TV. It read out a list of rules.
My wife, Iris, sat on the couch next to me, holding the bowl of popcorn in her thin hands. On her other side, our little boy, Freddie, sat. He looked just like his mother, with the same dirty blonde hair and faraway eyes, like the eyes of a dreamer. The movie played across our flat-screen TV, some CGI comedy with talking penguins and llamas that could drive cars. It was some garbage from Disney I would never have watched in a million years, but Freddie liked it, so I suffered through it for him.
We had turned off all the lights in the house for the movie. Only the TV’s flickering colors illuminated the room, sending dancing shadows that flashed out behind us.
Suddenly, outside the living room window, a bolt of lightning came down from the sky, splitting a tree in our front yard in two. Light flooded in through the window as if the flash of a nuclear missile were ripping its way across the town. A crash rang out as the tree split down the middle, its massive branches tumbling down onto the lawn. I jumped as the ground shook. More lightning flashed nearby, hitting other houses and lawns on the street.
“Damn, there wasn’t supposed to be any storms,” I said in surprise. The TV had gone black, and now we sat in darkness. For a long moment, I thought the power had gone out.
Abruptly, it came back on with a roar of white noise and a flickering of static. The volume seemed to be increasing by itself, growing into a rushing cacophony like a waterfall. I saw Iris try to scream something, but I could only see her lips move.
As suddenly as it all started, it stopped. The standard “PLEASE STANDBY” screen with a rainbow of blocky colors behind it appeared. There was a clanging, ringing sound that emanated from the speakers, high-pitched and whining like tinnitus. Then text started appearing across the screen. At the same time, a deep, serious voice spoke in the background, like a radio announcer reporting on the death of a President.
“This is the Demon Emergency Alert Broadcast System,” the voice read grimly. “This is not a test. Level five activity has been reported in your area. Do not go outside. Close all blinds, shutters and windows. Lock all doors and close any attached garages. Do not open your doors except to military or police personnel with the proper insignia. Even if someone appears to be in distress, do not open your door to investigate or try to interfere in any way. A temporary quarantine is in effect for your area. Military and police assistance is on the way.
“To ensure the greatest chances of survival during this time of crisis, please abide by the following rules:
“What the fuck?” Iris whispered next to me, taking out her phone and shining the light across the dark living room. “That was pretty weird. Everything looks different outside, too. I was just outside an hour ago and the Moon didn’t look anything like that.” She pointed. I got up, realizing she was right. The nighttime sky outside looked strange. I looked out the front window, seeing the Moon was cast in a fluorescent orange light. The cloudless sky had a dark red glow to it, as if some kind of eerie smog had covered everything. I had seen similar things happen after massive forest fires in the past.
“What happened, Dad?” Freddie asked in his small voice. “Where’s the movie?”
“I think we lost power, little man,” I said, ruffling his hair in a nonchalant manner. I didn’t really believe the emergency broadcast, after all. I figured some teenager had hacked the TV station and decided to play a prank, or perhaps some disgruntled employee had done it on his last day as a kind of “Fuck you” to the station. I had heard of similar things happening before. It was somewhat strange how the power had gone out and the sky had changed, but I felt sure that it could all be logically explained.
Someone shrieked outside. I looked out onto the dark street, seeing the silhouette of someone running frantically down the middle of the street, zigzagging wildly. As the figure got closer, I realized it was a young woman. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She wore a white shirt and khakis. Her clothes were soaked in streams of blood that made the fabric cling to her trembling body. I saw a vicious gash bitten into her left shoulder, a wound so deep that the white bone peeked out through the ragged patches of flesh.
“Help me!” she wailed, her eyes wild and panicked. “Why won’t anyone help me?!” She staggered and fell forward, crying and bleeding all over the road. I was about to run outside to see what was wrong with the young woman when I saw another silhouette creeping up behind her.
It looked like the body of a man, but something was wrong. As he drew closer, I caught a glimpse of the man’s face through the dim light. The left side of it was rotted and decayed, while the right looked muscular and healthy. He wore a black suit that looked like little more than tatters. Pieces of it fell off in ragged strips. I could see his left hand was also decomposing. Whatever kind of sickness it was, it seemed to extend to the whole left side of his body.
The stiff, skeletal leg cracked as he dragged it behind him, silently drawing nearer to the young woman. The living side of his face split into an insane rictus grin as he looked down at her. He carried a blood-stained ax that dragged on the pavement behind him with a harsh, metallic groan.
“Get away from me!” the woman screamed at the abomination, trying to kick at him. But she looked weakened from blood loss, and her attempts were feeble and slow. The man laughed, a sound that rang out like the gurgling of blood. He spat squirming maggots from his mouth onto the dark street below. He knelt down before the gasping woman and gave a low whisper. It carried on the dead, silent air.
“So warm,” he murmured, wiping his dead, putrefying fingers across the streams of blood that spurted from her left shoulder. He stuck an inhumanly long, pointed tongue out of his chattering lips and began to lick the blood off his hands. “But not enough. Not nearly enough.”
He stuck the bony, decaying fingers of his left hand into the wound and started pulling at the ragged wound. Blood bubbled out in increasing quantities, covering her body in its wet sheen. The woman jerked, her face turning pale and bloodless. She tried to kick at him, but he only laughed again, gurgling like a man with a slit throat. In horror, I watched him raise the ax above his head. It stood there for a long moment, trembling in his shaking hands like a guillotine blade.
“Please, don’t…” the woman pleaded as he grinned down at her. In a blur, he swung the ax down into her forehead. There was a wet cracking of bone and a ringing of metal. She sat there with her mouth open for what felt like a very long moment. Then, limply, she collapsed to the pavement. A dull thud echoed down the street as her skull smacked the pavement.
Sickened, I closed the blinds on the window and turned away, realizing that Freddie and Iris had been standing right behind me the entire time, watching the horrific display. Freddie was crying quietly into his hands, while Iris looked pale, her green eyes wide and unbelieving. The woman exhaled one last time, a long, drawn-out death gasp, and then everything went silent.
I felt sick and weak. Staggering, I put my hand out against the wall. A wave of nausea rose up my stomach. I ran towards the bathroom, shining the light from my cell phone to light the way. Iris started crying. I heard her frantically try to dial 911 over and over again.
“Dammit, nothing’s working!” she cried. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw up all the popcorn and soda I had consumed that night into the toilet. Covered in sweat, I started wiping my face with toilet paper. I pushed myself up, glancing into the mirror.
A cadaverous version of myself stood there, the dead face showing horror and surprise just like my own. I saw the same high cheekbones, the same shaved head, but in the mirror image, maggots writhed and squirmed in the rancid flesh. I backpedaled into the wall, stuttering something incomprehensible. The reflected image did the same, his lipless mouth opening and closing with silent curses. He wore the same clothes as myself, a black T-shirt and blue jeans, but they were rotted and tattered, as if they had been dug out of a grave.
“What the fuck?” I swore, raising my right hand experimentally. The mirror image did the same, matching every single movement perfectly. At that moment, Iris came running into the bathroom, her soft footsteps thudding gently against the marble floor. I jumped, turning to her.
“There’s someone outside the door,” she whispered, her face pale. I glanced back at the reflection, seeing that the other version was no longer following my movements.
“Watch out!” I cried, but it was too late.
The skull-like face came forward in a blur. His arm shot out towards Iris. The surface of the mirror swirled as if it were made of water when his pale flesh made contact with it. The sharp points of bone of his fingers wrapped around Iris’ neck. Stunned and silent, I watched in horror as he started dragging her into that other world.
“Stop him!” she screamed. “God, make him stop!” I ran forward, grabbing her legs as her head and chest was sucked through. There was a slight popping sound when her body entered the liquid-like surface. I tried to hold on with all of my strength, but whatever abomination was on the other side was strong, stronger than me. His iron grip yanked her out of my hands.
“Dad?” Freddie asked, slinking into the bathroom. His eyes were wide and wild. He looked around, confused. “Where’s Mom? Who’s screaming?” I had to make a decision instantly, I knew. I could either stay with my son, or try to get my wife back. I knew I couldn’t just leave Iris, though. I felt mentally torn. I looked between him and the mirror, my heart quivering with anxiety.
“Freddie, go wait in the living room,” I said. “Hide behind the couch. Don’t answer the door or say anything to anyone, no matter what. I’ll be right back.” I wasn’t sure if I would or not. Before I turned to the mirror, I patted his head. “Remember the rules they read us on the TV.” He nodded, but he was only a seven-year-old boy. How much did he really understand? Hell, how much did I even understand? I hadn’t followed the rules, and now Iris was kidnapped.
I turned back to the mirror, seeing that I had no reflection now. There was no sign of Iris or the rotted corpse with my face, either. Slowly, I walked forward, putting my trembling hand out towards its silvery surface. My fingers went through the mirror as if it were mere air, but I felt something freezing cold ripple around my skin. Pins and needles rushed up my arm. Taking a deep breath in, I pushed myself up on the counter and went all the way through.
***
I fell forward onto the marble surface of the bathroom floor, putting my hands out to break the fall. As I glanced up, I realized how strange everything looked. The world here was in constant motion, as if a fog-like void shimmered over the world. The floor’s surface danced with whorls of shadow. They felt as freezing cold as liquid nitrogen as they passed over my body.
Shivering and hugging myself, I pushed myself up off the floor. The walls and ceilings, too, rippled in the same black currents. I glanced around, seeing the white bathtub filled to the brim with dark blood. It bubbled constantly, as if someone were drowning under its surface. Bloody handprints of all sizes smeared the sides of the tub. The smell of copper grew strong, mixing with the strange smell that emanated from the shadows, a pungent, chemical odor like ammonia.
I passed by the mirror, seeing that here, too, I had no reflection. I felt like a vampire, staring into that blank emptiness. Feeling sick and disoriented, I stumbled forward, afraid to even breathe too loudly. I heard Iris crying and shrieking somewhere nearby.
“Nooo…” she wailed. “Please, stop…” Her voice seemed to be growing fainter and weaker, as if she were being dragged away by a tsunami. I peeked around the corner. Everything looked like nightmarish and strange. The living room looked much longer, stretching out for hundreds of feet. It had the same blue carpet and white walls as the one in my world, but now it was the size of a football stadium. The dark red couch had lengthened to an absurd size, stretching wide enough to fit a hundred people in it. The TV loomed across the room like the screen of a movie theater. It flickered constantly, showing a cacophony of white noise and static interspersed with horrible images: naked corpses with their throats sliced from ear to ear, burning bodies, people falling to their deaths from burning buildings.
But none of that was what made an involuntary gasp of horror rise up my throat. It was the enormous spiderweb spanning the length of the ceiling, fluttering softly in the breeze. In the center of the symmetrical web, I saw Iris, covered in silky thread up to her neck. She was hanging horizontally facing down, her body parallel to the floor. She struggled against the webbing that bound her like steel chains. Her eyes bulged from her head as she stared fixedly at the cadaver approaching her.
Crawling upside-down towards Iris was the monstrous image of myself I had seen in the mirror, but he had transformed into something spidery and eldritch. He skittered along with four arms and four legs now. The emaciated limbs poked out of his tattered rags of clothes, forked and elongated, the skin pale and covered in purple sores and deep gashes. Iris continued to plead and shriek in horror as it drew near. The creature’s chattering fangs and blackened gums approached her neck.
At the penultimate moment, Iris saw me, peeking around the corner of the bathroom. I stood there, unsure of what to do. I thought of trying to scream out, to throw something at the creature, but then what? We would both die, and then who would be left alive to protect Freddie? I didn’t know what to do. These thoughts passed through my head in the space of a single moment as we stared at each other. Her eyes shone with a moment of clarity, even as waves of mortal terror shook her body like a hurricane.
“Save Freddie!” she screamed. “Run! Go, Jack!” The creature noticed her staring at me instantly. He curved his long neck and twisted his spidery limbs, clutching the thick strands of silk with his skeletal limbs. The creature turned to me. He had a face like a skull. His filmy eyes regarded me intently. Silver streams of saliva dripped from his mouth. He gave a wide, insane smile, then turned back to Iris, unhinging his jaw. The pale, dead skin tore with a wet ripping sound. The yellow, sharp points of teeth gleamed darkly in the currents of rippling shadow.
I turned, sprinting back into the darkness of the bathroom as the crunching of bone and the shrieking of my wife followed me out. I had to repress an urge to vomit. With all of the speed I could muster, I staggered forward to the counter, where the mirror sat revealing the image of my house, an image that still lacked my reflection inside. Iris’ pleas and screams rapidly weakened. I heard her choking and gasping. A few moments later, I heard a rapid skittering of many legs approaching the bathroom. I started to pull myself up on the counter to escape this hellish mirror world.
Something creaked in the doorway behind me. I glanced back in fright, seeing the abomination with the eight limbs creeping up behind me. He stood only a few feet away from me now. As my eyes met his white, dead ones, his cadaverous face split into a sickly grin.
***
A wave of adrenaline shook my body. My vision turned white in the darkness. With a pounding heart, I pushed myself up and lunged through the mirror. The eight-limbed abomination with my rotting face gave an insane shriek. I felt a freezing cold hand wrap around my ankle and begin to drag me back.
“No!” I shrieked, trying to kick blindly at the mirror creature’s dead face. “I’ll never go with you! Never!” I smashed my sneaker into his jaw. There was a shattering sound, as if a ceramic vase had been dropped. The chattering of sharp teeth and the shrieking cut off abruptly. Looking back, I saw the corpse’s broken jaw hanging on by only a few shreds of tendons and muscle. The eyes went slack and I felt the grip loosen for the briefest moment. I pushed myself forward and slid through the mirror.
The freezing cold, pins-and-needles sensation returned, running over my body like water. I collapsed head-first onto the sink, rolling onto the floor with a jarring thud. The shrieking of the eight-limbed corpse continued behind me. I saw him trying to force his elongated body through the mirror. The long arms with their sharp fingers reached through, swiping wildly at the air. Before I could escape, one of them came through and cut four deep gashes into my chest. My shirt instantly became soaked in blood as a burning pain ran up my body.
I heard someone pounding at the front door, but in the panic of the moment, I could barely think. As the rest of the cadaverous body tried to push his way through the mirror, I dragged myself out of the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, even as the sounds of breaking and shattering followed me out of the bathroom. Ignoring the pain radiating through my body, I ran over to the couch and began shoving it towards the door.
The door shuddered in its frame. The house and the floor shook as the corpse threw his enormous body into the wood over and over again. Cracks spiderwebbed down the front of it, and I knew it wouldn’t last more than a couple more seconds.
“Freddie!” I screamed, looking around frantically. My heart dropped when I remembered I had told him to hide behind the couch. He was not here, not anywhere in the living room. “Freddie! Where the hell are you?”
“Dad?!” a voice responded from outside. It sounded like Freddie’s voice, but it was eerie, as if his voice had gotten caught between stations on the radio. It sputtered with static. It fell and rose in an ear-splitting scream. “Dad, let me in! Please! They’re going to hurt me!”
I ran to the front door, looking outside, but I saw no sign of Freddie. The sky had changed, though. The Moon had changed from orange to a dark red, the color of a burst blood blister. The rest of the sky was such a dark shade of crimson that it looked almost black. Around my feet, I felt something warm and wet.
“Where are you?” I yelled. “I don’t see…” At that moment, the bathroom door exploded outwards in a shower of nails and splinters, covering my face and body in the debris. The cadaverous face peeked around the corner, as if he were playing hide-and-seek rather than hunting and killing people.
“Fuck!” I swore as I looked down, seeing blood streaming in from under the door. It covered my sneakers up to the tops of the soles as more and more flooded in.
I ran for the stairs as the eight-limbed corpse skittered across the ceiling like a spider. He hung upside-down, the jaw hanging askew on his putrefying skull, the filmy eyes flashing with bloodlust. I was already half-way up the stairs when the corpse jumped down into the lake of blood at the bottom of the stairs. With his elongated, twisted limbs, he began pulling himself towards the first step in a blur, covering his body in the thick, putrid blood that continuously poured in through the bottom of every door.
But something was in the blood, I saw to my horror. I froze in place near the top of the stairs, watching the creature as he struggled to pull himself out of the blood, which was already at knee-height and still rising. There were dark silhouettes slithering through the blood. I saw the head of a black snake peer out at the eight-limbed cadaver. The snake had no eyelids, and its eyes looked as red as the blood it lived in. It wrapped its muscular body around his torso, rising up towards the cadaver’s face. The blood-red eyes met those dead, rotted ones of the corpse as they stared at each other. Then the eldritch snake lunged forward and bit off the corpse’s face.
Other snakes started to rise out of the surface, wrapping around his four legs and slithering up his back. The corpse wailed like a banshee, running blindly into the walls to try to smash the many snakes that suffocated and bit him from all sides. But this only seemed to heighten their hunger and bloodlust.
The sound of shredding flesh and snapping bone followed me as I ran into Freddie’s room and hid. His room was the only one without mirrors in it, I knew, and I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
***
In the thick curtains of shadow, a small voice rang out, terrified and searching.
“Dad? Is that really you?” Freddie asked, hiding behind his chest of toys. I saw his small body, contorted and pale. His little head poked above the lid.
“Freddie! You’re alive!” I cried, running over and hugging him. Tears streamed down my face. “I thought you were outside. I heard you screaming out there.”
“I heard you and Mom yelling outside, too,” Freddie whispered, his small body trembling as I held him. “I got scared and ran up here. I’m sorry, Dad. Where’s Mom?”
“It’s OK. Thank God you did,” I murmured, remembering the lake of blood downstairs and all those strange, black snakes. “Mom isn’t coming, Freddie.” He went silent then and didn’t ask any more questions. A sick, heavy weight covered my heart.
In the darkness, we hid and waited, though I knew not for what. The smell of copper and iron from all the blood downstairs had become overwhelming. After a few minutes of this, I took my phone out and shone it around experimentally.
I saw a thin layer of blood streaming into the room, rising up the stairs like the waves of a tsunami. It covered the hallway’s hardwood floor, a half-inch thick deep already and growing fast. Dark shapes slithered and writhed in it. Small waves pushed the lake of blood towards us, and within seconds, my shoes were submerged in it.
“Dad?” Freddie asked in a panicked voice. “What’s that? There’s things inside of it…” Without thinking, I picked Freddie up and held him above my body.
“We need to get to the attic!” I whispered to him, sprinting through the rising pool of blood with my son in my arms. “Don’t be afraid, Freddie. We’ll make it.” I had nearly reached the hallway where the pull-cord for the attic stairs hung when something wrapped around my feet. I went flying forwards, dropping Freddie in the pool of blood. He was submerged up to his waist instantly. His small body writhed in terror.
“Help me! Help me!” he screamed, flailing his arms as black snakes circled him like hungry sharks. The one wrapping around my legs continued slithering up my body. A rising sense of horror and panic filled me. At that moment, I knew I was doomed. I only hoped I would see Iris again. Then I noticed spotlights turn on outside, filling the inside of the house with a radiance like the Sun.
All of the windows upstairs suddenly smashed inwards. A spotlight shone through the nearest of them, illuminating me and Freddie in our frantic struggles against the snakes. Men in SWAT gear crawled through the shattered windows. With their gas masks, their faces looked like insects with too many compound eyes.
On their helmets and jackets, I saw a strange symbol: a double-fisted thumb holding a staring, lidless eye. Dozens of them streamed in, shooting the snakes that circled Freddie and me. As the one wrapping around its body slowly wound its way towards my face, one of the black-clad men came up behind it and shot it in the skull. The snake’s body collapsed all around me, its muscles loosening in death. With relief washing over me, I ran to our saviors.
“Get us out of here!” I pleaded. “There’s horrible things happening!” The man nodded in his black military gear, his mask revealing nothing.
“Follow me,” he said dispassionately, starting towards the roof. “You two are the only survivors we’ve found so far. It truly is a miracle anyone’s still alive.” I could only agree silently.
"This must be all over every news channel," I said. The masked man shook his head.
"No one knows about this," he responded. "No one but you two and our group. The media won't say shit. They do what we tell them."
***
I followed the men out onto the roof. Helicopters crisscrossed the skies, illuminating the houses and streets with many bright spotlights. As a helicopter slowly lowered itself down to take Freddie and me away from that pit of nightmares, dropping a rope for us to ascend, I glanced around my town one last time.
Many of the houses were destroyed or burning, sending thick clouds of black smoke into the blood-red sky. Men in full SWAT gear zoomed around the blood flooding the streets in boats, the whirring of the motors echoing like angry hornets. Turning away, I followed Freddie into the helicopter and never returned.
Iris is dead, and Freddie and I have seen enough horrors to scar us for a thousand years. In my heart, I know it is my fault my wife died. I didn’t follow the rules, and she paid the price.
I will hear those dying, panicked screams until my final breath.
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We had turned off all the lights in the house for the movie. Only the TV’s flickering colors illuminated the room, sending dancing shadows that flashed out behind us.
Suddenly, outside the living room window, a bolt of lightning came down from the sky, splitting a tree in our front yard in two. Light flooded in through the window as if the flash of a nuclear missile were ripping its way across the town. A crash rang out as the tree split down the middle, its massive branches tumbling down onto the lawn. I jumped as the ground shook. More lightning flashed nearby, hitting other houses and lawns on the street.
“Damn, there wasn’t supposed to be any storms,” I said in surprise. The TV had gone black, and now we sat in darkness. For a long moment, I thought the power had gone out.
Abruptly, it came back on with a roar of white noise and a flickering of static. The volume seemed to be increasing by itself, growing into a rushing cacophony like a waterfall. I saw Iris try to scream something, but I could only see her lips move.
As suddenly as it all started, it stopped. The standard “PLEASE STANDBY” screen with a rainbow of blocky colors behind it appeared. There was a clanging, ringing sound that emanated from the speakers, high-pitched and whining like tinnitus. Then text started appearing across the screen. At the same time, a deep, serious voice spoke in the background, like a radio announcer reporting on the death of a President.
“This is the Demon Emergency Alert Broadcast System,” the voice read grimly. “This is not a test. Level five activity has been reported in your area. Do not go outside. Close all blinds, shutters and windows. Lock all doors and close any attached garages. Do not open your doors except to military or police personnel with the proper insignia. Even if someone appears to be in distress, do not open your door to investigate or try to interfere in any way. A temporary quarantine is in effect for your area. Military and police assistance is on the way.
“To ensure the greatest chances of survival during this time of crisis, please abide by the following rules:
- If blood begins to pour under your door, go to a higher floor immediately. Avoid physical contact with the blood at all costs.
- All legitimate military and police personnel will have a special insignia on their helmets and jackets, an eye contained in a double-thumbed fist. Only accompany them if they have this insignia- otherwise, they are imposters.
- Avoid mirrors for the duration of the emergency.”
“What the fuck?” Iris whispered next to me, taking out her phone and shining the light across the dark living room. “That was pretty weird. Everything looks different outside, too. I was just outside an hour ago and the Moon didn’t look anything like that.” She pointed. I got up, realizing she was right. The nighttime sky outside looked strange. I looked out the front window, seeing the Moon was cast in a fluorescent orange light. The cloudless sky had a dark red glow to it, as if some kind of eerie smog had covered everything. I had seen similar things happen after massive forest fires in the past.
“What happened, Dad?” Freddie asked in his small voice. “Where’s the movie?”
“I think we lost power, little man,” I said, ruffling his hair in a nonchalant manner. I didn’t really believe the emergency broadcast, after all. I figured some teenager had hacked the TV station and decided to play a prank, or perhaps some disgruntled employee had done it on his last day as a kind of “Fuck you” to the station. I had heard of similar things happening before. It was somewhat strange how the power had gone out and the sky had changed, but I felt sure that it could all be logically explained.
Someone shrieked outside. I looked out onto the dark street, seeing the silhouette of someone running frantically down the middle of the street, zigzagging wildly. As the figure got closer, I realized it was a young woman. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She wore a white shirt and khakis. Her clothes were soaked in streams of blood that made the fabric cling to her trembling body. I saw a vicious gash bitten into her left shoulder, a wound so deep that the white bone peeked out through the ragged patches of flesh.
“Help me!” she wailed, her eyes wild and panicked. “Why won’t anyone help me?!” She staggered and fell forward, crying and bleeding all over the road. I was about to run outside to see what was wrong with the young woman when I saw another silhouette creeping up behind her.
It looked like the body of a man, but something was wrong. As he drew closer, I caught a glimpse of the man’s face through the dim light. The left side of it was rotted and decayed, while the right looked muscular and healthy. He wore a black suit that looked like little more than tatters. Pieces of it fell off in ragged strips. I could see his left hand was also decomposing. Whatever kind of sickness it was, it seemed to extend to the whole left side of his body.
The stiff, skeletal leg cracked as he dragged it behind him, silently drawing nearer to the young woman. The living side of his face split into an insane rictus grin as he looked down at her. He carried a blood-stained ax that dragged on the pavement behind him with a harsh, metallic groan.
“Get away from me!” the woman screamed at the abomination, trying to kick at him. But she looked weakened from blood loss, and her attempts were feeble and slow. The man laughed, a sound that rang out like the gurgling of blood. He spat squirming maggots from his mouth onto the dark street below. He knelt down before the gasping woman and gave a low whisper. It carried on the dead, silent air.
“So warm,” he murmured, wiping his dead, putrefying fingers across the streams of blood that spurted from her left shoulder. He stuck an inhumanly long, pointed tongue out of his chattering lips and began to lick the blood off his hands. “But not enough. Not nearly enough.”
He stuck the bony, decaying fingers of his left hand into the wound and started pulling at the ragged wound. Blood bubbled out in increasing quantities, covering her body in its wet sheen. The woman jerked, her face turning pale and bloodless. She tried to kick at him, but he only laughed again, gurgling like a man with a slit throat. In horror, I watched him raise the ax above his head. It stood there for a long moment, trembling in his shaking hands like a guillotine blade.
“Please, don’t…” the woman pleaded as he grinned down at her. In a blur, he swung the ax down into her forehead. There was a wet cracking of bone and a ringing of metal. She sat there with her mouth open for what felt like a very long moment. Then, limply, she collapsed to the pavement. A dull thud echoed down the street as her skull smacked the pavement.
Sickened, I closed the blinds on the window and turned away, realizing that Freddie and Iris had been standing right behind me the entire time, watching the horrific display. Freddie was crying quietly into his hands, while Iris looked pale, her green eyes wide and unbelieving. The woman exhaled one last time, a long, drawn-out death gasp, and then everything went silent.
I felt sick and weak. Staggering, I put my hand out against the wall. A wave of nausea rose up my stomach. I ran towards the bathroom, shining the light from my cell phone to light the way. Iris started crying. I heard her frantically try to dial 911 over and over again.
“Dammit, nothing’s working!” she cried. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw up all the popcorn and soda I had consumed that night into the toilet. Covered in sweat, I started wiping my face with toilet paper. I pushed myself up, glancing into the mirror.
A cadaverous version of myself stood there, the dead face showing horror and surprise just like my own. I saw the same high cheekbones, the same shaved head, but in the mirror image, maggots writhed and squirmed in the rancid flesh. I backpedaled into the wall, stuttering something incomprehensible. The reflected image did the same, his lipless mouth opening and closing with silent curses. He wore the same clothes as myself, a black T-shirt and blue jeans, but they were rotted and tattered, as if they had been dug out of a grave.
“What the fuck?” I swore, raising my right hand experimentally. The mirror image did the same, matching every single movement perfectly. At that moment, Iris came running into the bathroom, her soft footsteps thudding gently against the marble floor. I jumped, turning to her.
“There’s someone outside the door,” she whispered, her face pale. I glanced back at the reflection, seeing that the other version was no longer following my movements.
“Watch out!” I cried, but it was too late.
The skull-like face came forward in a blur. His arm shot out towards Iris. The surface of the mirror swirled as if it were made of water when his pale flesh made contact with it. The sharp points of bone of his fingers wrapped around Iris’ neck. Stunned and silent, I watched in horror as he started dragging her into that other world.
“Stop him!” she screamed. “God, make him stop!” I ran forward, grabbing her legs as her head and chest was sucked through. There was a slight popping sound when her body entered the liquid-like surface. I tried to hold on with all of my strength, but whatever abomination was on the other side was strong, stronger than me. His iron grip yanked her out of my hands.
“Dad?” Freddie asked, slinking into the bathroom. His eyes were wide and wild. He looked around, confused. “Where’s Mom? Who’s screaming?” I had to make a decision instantly, I knew. I could either stay with my son, or try to get my wife back. I knew I couldn’t just leave Iris, though. I felt mentally torn. I looked between him and the mirror, my heart quivering with anxiety.
“Freddie, go wait in the living room,” I said. “Hide behind the couch. Don’t answer the door or say anything to anyone, no matter what. I’ll be right back.” I wasn’t sure if I would or not. Before I turned to the mirror, I patted his head. “Remember the rules they read us on the TV.” He nodded, but he was only a seven-year-old boy. How much did he really understand? Hell, how much did I even understand? I hadn’t followed the rules, and now Iris was kidnapped.
I turned back to the mirror, seeing that I had no reflection now. There was no sign of Iris or the rotted corpse with my face, either. Slowly, I walked forward, putting my trembling hand out towards its silvery surface. My fingers went through the mirror as if it were mere air, but I felt something freezing cold ripple around my skin. Pins and needles rushed up my arm. Taking a deep breath in, I pushed myself up on the counter and went all the way through.
***
I fell forward onto the marble surface of the bathroom floor, putting my hands out to break the fall. As I glanced up, I realized how strange everything looked. The world here was in constant motion, as if a fog-like void shimmered over the world. The floor’s surface danced with whorls of shadow. They felt as freezing cold as liquid nitrogen as they passed over my body.
Shivering and hugging myself, I pushed myself up off the floor. The walls and ceilings, too, rippled in the same black currents. I glanced around, seeing the white bathtub filled to the brim with dark blood. It bubbled constantly, as if someone were drowning under its surface. Bloody handprints of all sizes smeared the sides of the tub. The smell of copper grew strong, mixing with the strange smell that emanated from the shadows, a pungent, chemical odor like ammonia.
I passed by the mirror, seeing that here, too, I had no reflection. I felt like a vampire, staring into that blank emptiness. Feeling sick and disoriented, I stumbled forward, afraid to even breathe too loudly. I heard Iris crying and shrieking somewhere nearby.
“Nooo…” she wailed. “Please, stop…” Her voice seemed to be growing fainter and weaker, as if she were being dragged away by a tsunami. I peeked around the corner. Everything looked like nightmarish and strange. The living room looked much longer, stretching out for hundreds of feet. It had the same blue carpet and white walls as the one in my world, but now it was the size of a football stadium. The dark red couch had lengthened to an absurd size, stretching wide enough to fit a hundred people in it. The TV loomed across the room like the screen of a movie theater. It flickered constantly, showing a cacophony of white noise and static interspersed with horrible images: naked corpses with their throats sliced from ear to ear, burning bodies, people falling to their deaths from burning buildings.
But none of that was what made an involuntary gasp of horror rise up my throat. It was the enormous spiderweb spanning the length of the ceiling, fluttering softly in the breeze. In the center of the symmetrical web, I saw Iris, covered in silky thread up to her neck. She was hanging horizontally facing down, her body parallel to the floor. She struggled against the webbing that bound her like steel chains. Her eyes bulged from her head as she stared fixedly at the cadaver approaching her.
Crawling upside-down towards Iris was the monstrous image of myself I had seen in the mirror, but he had transformed into something spidery and eldritch. He skittered along with four arms and four legs now. The emaciated limbs poked out of his tattered rags of clothes, forked and elongated, the skin pale and covered in purple sores and deep gashes. Iris continued to plead and shriek in horror as it drew near. The creature’s chattering fangs and blackened gums approached her neck.
At the penultimate moment, Iris saw me, peeking around the corner of the bathroom. I stood there, unsure of what to do. I thought of trying to scream out, to throw something at the creature, but then what? We would both die, and then who would be left alive to protect Freddie? I didn’t know what to do. These thoughts passed through my head in the space of a single moment as we stared at each other. Her eyes shone with a moment of clarity, even as waves of mortal terror shook her body like a hurricane.
“Save Freddie!” she screamed. “Run! Go, Jack!” The creature noticed her staring at me instantly. He curved his long neck and twisted his spidery limbs, clutching the thick strands of silk with his skeletal limbs. The creature turned to me. He had a face like a skull. His filmy eyes regarded me intently. Silver streams of saliva dripped from his mouth. He gave a wide, insane smile, then turned back to Iris, unhinging his jaw. The pale, dead skin tore with a wet ripping sound. The yellow, sharp points of teeth gleamed darkly in the currents of rippling shadow.
I turned, sprinting back into the darkness of the bathroom as the crunching of bone and the shrieking of my wife followed me out. I had to repress an urge to vomit. With all of the speed I could muster, I staggered forward to the counter, where the mirror sat revealing the image of my house, an image that still lacked my reflection inside. Iris’ pleas and screams rapidly weakened. I heard her choking and gasping. A few moments later, I heard a rapid skittering of many legs approaching the bathroom. I started to pull myself up on the counter to escape this hellish mirror world.
Something creaked in the doorway behind me. I glanced back in fright, seeing the abomination with the eight limbs creeping up behind me. He stood only a few feet away from me now. As my eyes met his white, dead ones, his cadaverous face split into a sickly grin.
***
A wave of adrenaline shook my body. My vision turned white in the darkness. With a pounding heart, I pushed myself up and lunged through the mirror. The eight-limbed abomination with my rotting face gave an insane shriek. I felt a freezing cold hand wrap around my ankle and begin to drag me back.
“No!” I shrieked, trying to kick blindly at the mirror creature’s dead face. “I’ll never go with you! Never!” I smashed my sneaker into his jaw. There was a shattering sound, as if a ceramic vase had been dropped. The chattering of sharp teeth and the shrieking cut off abruptly. Looking back, I saw the corpse’s broken jaw hanging on by only a few shreds of tendons and muscle. The eyes went slack and I felt the grip loosen for the briefest moment. I pushed myself forward and slid through the mirror.
The freezing cold, pins-and-needles sensation returned, running over my body like water. I collapsed head-first onto the sink, rolling onto the floor with a jarring thud. The shrieking of the eight-limbed corpse continued behind me. I saw him trying to force his elongated body through the mirror. The long arms with their sharp fingers reached through, swiping wildly at the air. Before I could escape, one of them came through and cut four deep gashes into my chest. My shirt instantly became soaked in blood as a burning pain ran up my body.
I heard someone pounding at the front door, but in the panic of the moment, I could barely think. As the rest of the cadaverous body tried to push his way through the mirror, I dragged myself out of the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, even as the sounds of breaking and shattering followed me out of the bathroom. Ignoring the pain radiating through my body, I ran over to the couch and began shoving it towards the door.
The door shuddered in its frame. The house and the floor shook as the corpse threw his enormous body into the wood over and over again. Cracks spiderwebbed down the front of it, and I knew it wouldn’t last more than a couple more seconds.
“Freddie!” I screamed, looking around frantically. My heart dropped when I remembered I had told him to hide behind the couch. He was not here, not anywhere in the living room. “Freddie! Where the hell are you?”
“Dad?!” a voice responded from outside. It sounded like Freddie’s voice, but it was eerie, as if his voice had gotten caught between stations on the radio. It sputtered with static. It fell and rose in an ear-splitting scream. “Dad, let me in! Please! They’re going to hurt me!”
I ran to the front door, looking outside, but I saw no sign of Freddie. The sky had changed, though. The Moon had changed from orange to a dark red, the color of a burst blood blister. The rest of the sky was such a dark shade of crimson that it looked almost black. Around my feet, I felt something warm and wet.
“Where are you?” I yelled. “I don’t see…” At that moment, the bathroom door exploded outwards in a shower of nails and splinters, covering my face and body in the debris. The cadaverous face peeked around the corner, as if he were playing hide-and-seek rather than hunting and killing people.
“Fuck!” I swore as I looked down, seeing blood streaming in from under the door. It covered my sneakers up to the tops of the soles as more and more flooded in.
I ran for the stairs as the eight-limbed corpse skittered across the ceiling like a spider. He hung upside-down, the jaw hanging askew on his putrefying skull, the filmy eyes flashing with bloodlust. I was already half-way up the stairs when the corpse jumped down into the lake of blood at the bottom of the stairs. With his elongated, twisted limbs, he began pulling himself towards the first step in a blur, covering his body in the thick, putrid blood that continuously poured in through the bottom of every door.
But something was in the blood, I saw to my horror. I froze in place near the top of the stairs, watching the creature as he struggled to pull himself out of the blood, which was already at knee-height and still rising. There were dark silhouettes slithering through the blood. I saw the head of a black snake peer out at the eight-limbed cadaver. The snake had no eyelids, and its eyes looked as red as the blood it lived in. It wrapped its muscular body around his torso, rising up towards the cadaver’s face. The blood-red eyes met those dead, rotted ones of the corpse as they stared at each other. Then the eldritch snake lunged forward and bit off the corpse’s face.
Other snakes started to rise out of the surface, wrapping around his four legs and slithering up his back. The corpse wailed like a banshee, running blindly into the walls to try to smash the many snakes that suffocated and bit him from all sides. But this only seemed to heighten their hunger and bloodlust.
The sound of shredding flesh and snapping bone followed me as I ran into Freddie’s room and hid. His room was the only one without mirrors in it, I knew, and I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
***
In the thick curtains of shadow, a small voice rang out, terrified and searching.
“Dad? Is that really you?” Freddie asked, hiding behind his chest of toys. I saw his small body, contorted and pale. His little head poked above the lid.
“Freddie! You’re alive!” I cried, running over and hugging him. Tears streamed down my face. “I thought you were outside. I heard you screaming out there.”
“I heard you and Mom yelling outside, too,” Freddie whispered, his small body trembling as I held him. “I got scared and ran up here. I’m sorry, Dad. Where’s Mom?”
“It’s OK. Thank God you did,” I murmured, remembering the lake of blood downstairs and all those strange, black snakes. “Mom isn’t coming, Freddie.” He went silent then and didn’t ask any more questions. A sick, heavy weight covered my heart.
In the darkness, we hid and waited, though I knew not for what. The smell of copper and iron from all the blood downstairs had become overwhelming. After a few minutes of this, I took my phone out and shone it around experimentally.
I saw a thin layer of blood streaming into the room, rising up the stairs like the waves of a tsunami. It covered the hallway’s hardwood floor, a half-inch thick deep already and growing fast. Dark shapes slithered and writhed in it. Small waves pushed the lake of blood towards us, and within seconds, my shoes were submerged in it.
“Dad?” Freddie asked in a panicked voice. “What’s that? There’s things inside of it…” Without thinking, I picked Freddie up and held him above my body.
“We need to get to the attic!” I whispered to him, sprinting through the rising pool of blood with my son in my arms. “Don’t be afraid, Freddie. We’ll make it.” I had nearly reached the hallway where the pull-cord for the attic stairs hung when something wrapped around my feet. I went flying forwards, dropping Freddie in the pool of blood. He was submerged up to his waist instantly. His small body writhed in terror.
“Help me! Help me!” he screamed, flailing his arms as black snakes circled him like hungry sharks. The one wrapping around my legs continued slithering up my body. A rising sense of horror and panic filled me. At that moment, I knew I was doomed. I only hoped I would see Iris again. Then I noticed spotlights turn on outside, filling the inside of the house with a radiance like the Sun.
All of the windows upstairs suddenly smashed inwards. A spotlight shone through the nearest of them, illuminating me and Freddie in our frantic struggles against the snakes. Men in SWAT gear crawled through the shattered windows. With their gas masks, their faces looked like insects with too many compound eyes.
On their helmets and jackets, I saw a strange symbol: a double-fisted thumb holding a staring, lidless eye. Dozens of them streamed in, shooting the snakes that circled Freddie and me. As the one wrapping around its body slowly wound its way towards my face, one of the black-clad men came up behind it and shot it in the skull. The snake’s body collapsed all around me, its muscles loosening in death. With relief washing over me, I ran to our saviors.
“Get us out of here!” I pleaded. “There’s horrible things happening!” The man nodded in his black military gear, his mask revealing nothing.
“Follow me,” he said dispassionately, starting towards the roof. “You two are the only survivors we’ve found so far. It truly is a miracle anyone’s still alive.” I could only agree silently.
"This must be all over every news channel," I said. The masked man shook his head.
"No one knows about this," he responded. "No one but you two and our group. The media won't say shit. They do what we tell them."
***
I followed the men out onto the roof. Helicopters crisscrossed the skies, illuminating the houses and streets with many bright spotlights. As a helicopter slowly lowered itself down to take Freddie and me away from that pit of nightmares, dropping a rope for us to ascend, I glanced around my town one last time.
Many of the houses were destroyed or burning, sending thick clouds of black smoke into the blood-red sky. Men in full SWAT gear zoomed around the blood flooding the streets in boats, the whirring of the motors echoing like angry hornets. Turning away, I followed Freddie into the helicopter and never returned.
Iris is dead, and Freddie and I have seen enough horrors to scar us for a thousand years. In my heart, I know it is my fault my wife died. I didn’t follow the rules, and she paid the price.
I will hear those dying, panicked screams until my final breath.
2024.05.10 01:57 Temporary-Employ-611 A Hunting We Will Go
 | Whisper pulls herself up through a shadow in the middle of a forest. Volina clinging to her midsection. submitted by Temporary-Employ-611 to wizardposting [link] [comments] Volina: ahhhh!!! is it over!?! Her Tail is rigid. Whisper: In her typical monotone voice. It is… It was just the shadow realm. Volina: I’ve never been there before it’s a new experience… Whisper: She slowly helps Volina extricate herself. You kept screaming the whole time. Volina: sorry… Whisper: It is fine. Delorem did not warn me when she grabbed me and drug me through the first time. I screamed too Volina: Oh… who is Delorem? Whisper: My patron and friend Volina: Oh maybe I should meet them someday! Whisper: I would like that. Shall we? Volina: Kill a hydra heck yeah! Whisper shucks her clothes. She transforms into her demonic form and sniffs the air. She speaks around large fangs. That way. Volina: I have a bag I could’ve put your clothes in it… Okay following! Whisper starts running at a loping speed on all fours as she looks back to check on Volina. Volina is sprinting behind her, and then switched to all fours with her gun strapped across her back. Whisper picks up speed as she starts to catch a scent. Volina is catching up in speed. Volina: How are you so fast! She lets out a rumbling howl as the scent gets fresher. What do you mean? This is my jogging speed. Volina: What! I was born on four legs and you’re faster than me!! Whisper: I can increase my muscle and structure. Plus years of constant hunting. Volina: That’s a fair point… She sprints to catch up. They pass through kilometers of trees and hills as she keeps up the pace. Whisper: You doing okay? Volina: Doing fine how far away are they? Sniffs the air. Whisper: Guess. Tell me what your nose says. Volina: I think I smell a reptile about a kilometer off. Whisper: She nods. Not far off now. If we wanted to sneak up on it we would approach from downwind. We are looking for a fight today. Volina: Should I approach them down wind? Whisper: I have not hunted with others. That sounds like a good idea since you want to stay at range. Volina: Since I’ve never fought a Hydra before what should I shoot for? Whisper: The heart. Center mass is much better than head. Destroy a head without fire and it will multiply. Volina: I have incendiary rounds if that helps each one has a charge of fireball. Whisper: If we need to. I want to see your skill. Oh, if I go down do not worry. I can not die permanently. Volina: I can regenerate pretty quickly not as fast as a ring devil, but still pretty good. Whisper: See if you can get the kill shot after I lop off a few heads and piss it off. Volina: Sounds like a plan! I’m really glad that I met you! Whisper: She gives her a questioning look. Why? I am insane by most standards. Volina: you protect me and treat me nicely… Whisper: .....oh. get prepared. I will go on ahead. Volina switches to her bipedal form. What’s our plan to communicate? Whisper lets out a long, continuous howl as she nears the lair of the beast. Via telepathy: I will keep the line open. Volina: OK, tell me when to take the shot. Whisper: I will warn you when it might be the best time, but you get to decide when to pull the trigger. Try not to hit me. She laughs. Volina: Got that whisper. I’m a pretty good shot. Whisper skids to a stop in front of a large cave. She stands on two legs. A small ball of light appears on a claw tip. She launches it at an edge of the entrance. It explodes into a fireball spell on impact. It lights up the inside of the cave as a beast stirs. It is coming. Volina loads her incendiary magazine. ready… The heads of the beast snake out, one by one. Whisper: Alright. one, two, 4, 5,6. Six heads. Not enough. Let us make more. Whisper launches herself forward. Volina shoots a bullet into its kneecap to drop it so Whisper can have an easier time reaching. I’m going to kneecap this thing! Whisper: Wait. this thing is already weak. Let me add a few heads first. A quiet but manic laugh of glee can be heard over the link as Whisper launches herself at a head. She holds it in her jaws as two others clamps down on her sides. She rips off the first with brute strength. The other two fall within seconds due to shadow blades. Volina: Holy- Whisper is pouring blood as she pries each head off by hand. You may take out another knee if you wish. While it grows new heads. Blam!! Volina: Thanks! The knee of bursts like a overripe tomato Whisper downcasts magic missiles at its heads to keep it distracted. The stumps having reformed it is now a nine-headed hydra. Volina: Want me to take a head Whisper? Whisper: Go for it! Whisper dodges a bite as she slices through another head with her claws. You see the bullet go into the hydra’s mouth and then it’s head blows up. Volina: he he he Explosive rounds he he he Whisper: Wonderful shots! good job. Volina: Thank you Whisper! Whisper: he he he he....this blood tastes much better than devil's blood. Whisper licks the blood off a claw as she falls back into her own shadow. Several moments later, as the hydra is searching and screeching, she pops out of its shadow and latches onto a head and rips it off with claws and teeth. Volina: You know I am technically a devil right… Whisper: sorry. abyssal spawn. though either honestly taste terrible. Volina: It’s fine… some devils also eat other devils… Whisper: Ready to see if you can make the kill shot? Volina: Ready! Whisper runs along the outside of its reach as she casts fireball and burns a few heads. She stops as the hydra reaches for her. She falls back into her shadow once again. This time she pops up in the shadow of its tail. Get ready! *She chops the tip of it's tail off and the heads swing around to give Volina a clear shot. Volina aimed a bit low, and the bullet goes into the lung instead of the heart the lung starts collapsing and on itself, causing the hydra to cry in pain. Dammit that wasn’t a clean shot! Whisper: You hit a vital point, but it will suffer. The eight heads divide their attention. Several spit up blood. I'm letting you call the next move. Volina: Get the other lung! Whisper! Whisper's hands move in a rapid gesture as she casts scintillating lights to distract the heads. All but 2 are affected. She runs along the hydra's side. She dodges one head and another bites into her torso but has trouble getting through her armor. She casts disintegration ray below its ribcage as it blasts through the front of it. Volina: Shit!! Volina breathes in and out preparing for her shot and then she fires… Whisper feels the bullet pass by her head and plunges into it chest causing a fountain of red drenching Whisper in the process Whisper stands there in silence for a moment as the Hydra thrashes in its death throes. She licks the blood off her maw with a long tongue. Good job. You finished it off and didn't hit me. Volina: Well, I had an ally that I actually cared about for once. I think that’s a good motivator Whisper: You are a good shot. You made good calls. Volina: But you got bit… As Whisper walks back the most recent wounds close over with red flowers and slough off leaving clear skin by the time she approaches. And? I was having fun. If I had sped up or toughened up then it would not have had a chance to fight back. If it had bested me then good for it. I was being cocky. Volina: Oh… Whisper: Sorry if I worried you. It does hurt, but I am very used to it… Are you uninjured? Volina: I was a long way off I am fine… Whisper: That was fun. Whisper gives Volina a blood covered hug as Volina hugs Whisper back. Volina: Yes, it was. Whisper: Hmm? Volina hugs Whisper tightly Volina: you are one of the first people to actually care if I got hurt… Whisper’s emotionless face cracks for a moment in surprise. She scoops Volina off the ground in a tight embrace. Then we should change that. Everyone deserves to be cared about. Whisper: Time to process the meat. A lot of meat. Volina pulls out two large carving knives. Whisper takes one and heads over to the Hydra starts slicing off pieces Volina: Here let me help! Whisper: You probably know more about this than I do anyway. I ate life essence for years. Did not need to process meat. Guess you can teach me. Volina: Ok, I’ve never butchered something like this before. I’ll try to tell you how to do it. Whisper: Lead the way then. As Volina carves the hydra Whisper mimics Volina’s practiced movements With unpracticed hands. Volina: You’re getting it. Whisper: You really think so? I think I am making quite a mess of it. Volina: Well everyone starts somewhere and you are doing better than most. Whisper: If you say so. You are the teacher here Volina. I think you are doing well. Volina: Thank you. Would you like me to help remove the limbs? Whisper: I think I can manage this side. I know how to dismember this, I believe. Volina push’s her knife into the joint and pulls out the limb in a swift movement and Whisper plunges her knife into the joint aggressively. She hacks and saws the limb free. Volina: Great job so, how are we carrying this all back? Whisper opens a portal with a few gestures. Whisper: Carry it. Volina: Where does that portal go? Whisper: To the manor. I was first a planeswalker in my previous life. I am quite good at portals. Volina: Okay! she starts caring pieces of meat into the portal Whisper grabs large slabs of meat and walks through the portal. |
2024.05.10 00:28 password_is_egg Bringing my boys home
Finally found a Mewtube!
submitted by password_is_egg to pokemoncards [link] [comments]