Perverted forwards

I'm looking for the girl who's too shy to admit she wants to be a fucktoy. It's something you've always wanted, but you feel it's too perverted to ask for it. Maybe this will make you feel better, I've got plenty of desires I'd never admit in public either. Here's some of my favorites to make it easier for you: Hatefucking, Bondage, anal/painal, CNC, Humiliation/Degradation, various dom/sub dynamics, free use. If you're the type of girl to get wet when you read that list, shoot me a dm and I'll take it from there.
I'm looking for Women only, 18+, don't care how little/how much experience you've got. I look forward to chatting with you.

"The cooks outdid themselves with this one!", a common phrase Id hear walking through the cafeteria during breakfast hour. I had never been one for breakfast, eating in the morning just made me feel tired. Regardless, I loved venturing into the cafeteria because it was nice to hear the rumbling of conversations and to meet new people.
I had met my crew when they boarded the ship in the days before we set sail, but introducing myself personally to our group of 49 civilians was keeping me busy. The navigation team tells me we have three days before we reach the shores of...
"Whats the name of it?"
Senior Navi Ran Katz chuckled and dragged his finger under the word on his map, "My-am-ee. Its an old American ruin."
He pinched the mapscreen and My-am-ee began to shrink until the majority of the space was covered in ocean and the destination was a speck in the bottom left.
"But we havent had satellite pictures of this entire area for centuries. With rising seas, who knows if Miami is going to be our landing spot or just a reef we pass over?" He was right. The mess of radioactivity in the atmosphere had completely covered the land ahead in mystery, "Come lunchtime, though, we will pass West 50 mark."
It was a lot to take in. No one had been past the 50 latitude mark since 2024. I dont even think my 20-times-great grandfather was born yet. Man, I really have to finish up that speech by noon. Every great person in history has their speech:
The ancient Roman Caesar crossing the Rubicon,
the Americans on the Moon,
Mandela at his Rivonian trial,
the Peace Progress announcing the bombing of America,
even the Toliford brothers broadcasted theirs live while they left the solar system.
As I sat in the cafeteria trying to figure out the best way to end my speech, Maxton snapped me out of it.
"Its a gud one, Capi."
"Its a gud one, Max."
I didnt even notice the young woman next to him until he introduced her, "this is Suri Aziz, she is our biologist."
We said out pleasantries and began to talk after Max was called away. She told me about her role as a civilian settler and her interest in coming along with me on my sea-to-sea if our settlement is successful.
"Well, wherever we set up could up to a year, you could find yourself occupied by then," I suggested.
"Officer Angelhart told me you do not have your expedition crew picked out yet," she had a good source, "I just want to show you some of my work. If I may?"
I have worked with women before on such journeys, that wasnt my issue. Age is experience. She might have a couple dozen years breathing, but Id prefer to team with people with a few dozen years of working.
She set a suitcase on the table and clicked it open. It was full of papers. She riffled through a folder and pulled out a handful, placing them in front of me.
They were beautiful. Elaborately drawn and colored plants and animals. Each page had a subject drawn three or four or five times at different perspectives and cross-sections. Measurements and descriptions organized the scattered images into an extravagant display of knowledge and craft. Foxes, Tulips, and... Deer.
"The white-tail."
"Yes, it was native to the Americas. This is based on information from books and movies Ive had. Gorgeous creature. I wish I could see one when we get to M..."
"Miami," I chimed in, "I got to see the last one in the Vienna Zoo when I was a kid. That must have been 30? 40 years ago? Wow."
"I only have a couple hundred of these illustrations, I-"
"Only?" she chuckled at my interjection.
"Only. I want to be there with you when you cross to the Pacific. I want to see and experience the flora and fauna."
I saw myself in her, and not in a gross perverted way. I could see the determination and desire for adventure. She was going to be my inspiration for the final part of my speech.
With the cue from Archer, I pressed the yellow button near the microphone and began, "New Horizon, this is Capi Santago Vega. In approximately 3 minutes, this vessel will officially enter into the unknown. From now on, please wear your TH4 protective suits when outdoors.
Let West 50 not only mark our geography, but let it be a testament to life forever blooming in spite of the challenges: manmade and natural.
With each step we will take, we will reclaim a fragment of what was lost, defying the annals of history and redefining our world.
There will be tough times ahead, but there will always be tough times. Aboard the New Horizon, times may be tougher, but our legacies will be greater. We will see a beautiful new world because you will all be there making it beautiful...
And there goes West 50. Through fire and fallout, humanity goes forward."
I watched the needle zip back and forth as the machine printed the prothetic finger. It may have been hypnotizing if the cartographer hadnt been crying a few feet away from me, "but my finger! Oh God, it will never be the same! Oh God, no!"
Dr. Mally removed the plastic hood from the machine, "Thank you Ennay."
The speakers crackled as Ennay responded, "Of course, Dr. Mally! It is my job as the Operating System of the New Horizon to aid in all matters as best I can!" the cartographer began to panic once more as the nurses prepared the surgery, "Even when crew-mates like Mr. Morgs slams a door unto his finger.
Morgs had never had a prosthetic before, obviously. Most of my right arm is skynthallic, but instead of wailing, all I ever did was learn to wear a seatbelt so it wouldnt happen again. Unfortunately, I needed to sign off on having Ennay process the finger mold without the surgeon's supervision. If I didnt need to, Id be staring out at the ocean Ive been dreaming about for decades.
"Capi Vega?"
"Yes, Ennay?" I asked the large screen by the printer.
"Your presence is required with Helmsan Archer in the Control Room."
"I am kinda busy, I ca-,"
"Sir, he says its... dire."
I apologized to the surgeon and wished the team, and Mr. Morgs, the best of luck before exiting the Medical Wing. Racing up the stairs, I could hear gossip about something people saw from the deck.
I burst into the Control Room.
Before anyone could explain the situation to me, the large glass windows told me all I needed.
"My God...," my face went pale. I tried to keep composure, but... well this was the largest, blackest storm I had ever seen.
"No scanners picked it up, Sir," Ben explained rapidly, "Its still completely invisible to any radars."
"Must have something to due with the radiation levels, somehow. Its clear enough over here, we should be able to read something, anything!"
"Sir, what should we do?" the room fell silent as the handful of operators stared up at me. I pinched at the hairs above my lip and stood in thought.
If we sail around it, we would lose time and possibly our location. The only reason we are so confident in where we are is due to how rigid our course has been. No one has sailed these waters in centuries, if we get lost out here, we could be lost to history.
Sailing through it, we could lose the ship. She is built for all kinds of storms, but this one would surely test Europian craftsmanship. Once we are in the storm, there is no turning back; going in circles when youre lost is the best way to stay lost.
Ben advised we try and go around, but I think he may doubt his own skill. Ben and I step into the hallway and have Ennay call for Max.
It took about 15 minutes, but the three of us has discussed and debates into a unanimous decision.
Ben Archer swung open the doors to the Control Room, "Full speed ahead."

"The cooks outdid themselves with this one!", a common phrase Id hear walking through the cafeteria during breakfast hour. I had never been one for breakfast, eating in the morning just made me feel tired. Regardless, I loved venturing into the cafeteria because it was nice to hear the rumbling of conversations and to meet new people.
I had met my crew when they boarded the ship in the days before we set sail, but introducing myself personally to our group of 49 civilians was keeping me busy. The navigation team tells me we have three days before we reach the shores of...
"Whats the name of it?"
Senior Navi Ran Katz chuckled and dragged his finger under the word on his map, "My-am-ee. Its an old American ruin."
He pinched the mapscreen and My-am-ee began to shrink until the majority of the space was covered in ocean and the destination was a speck in the bottom left.
"But we havent had satellite pictures of this entire area for centuries. With rising seas, who knows if Miami is going to be our landing spot or just a reef we pass over?" He was right. The mess of radioactivity in the atmosphere had completely covered the land ahead in mystery, "Come lunchtime, though, we will pass West 50 mark."
It was a lot to take in. No one had been past the 50 latitude mark since 2024. I dont even think my 20-times-great grandfather was born yet. Man, I really have to finish up that speech by noon. Every great person in history has their speech:
The ancient Roman Caesar crossing the Rubicon,
the Americans on the Moon,
Mandela at his Rivonian trial,
the Peace Progress announcing the bombing of America,
even the Toliford brothers broadcasted theirs live while they left the solar system.
As I sat in the cafeteria trying to figure out the best way to end my speech, Maxton snapped me out of it.
"Its a gud one, Capi."
"Its a gud one, Max."
I didnt even notice the young woman next to him until he introduced her, "this is Suri Aziz, she is our biologist."
We said out pleasantries and began to talk after Max was called away. She told me about her role as a civilian settler and her interest in coming along with me on my sea-to-sea if our settlement is successful.
"Well, wherever we set up could up to a year, you could find yourself occupied by then," I suggested.
"Officer Angelhart told me you do not have your expedition crew picked out yet," she had a good source, "I just want to show you some of my work. If I may?"
I have worked with women before on such journeys, that wasnt my issue. Age is experience. She might have a couple dozen years breathing, but Id prefer to team with people with a few dozen years of working.
She set a suitcase on the table and clicked it open. It was full of papers. She riffled through a folder and pulled out a handful, placing them in front of me.
They were beautiful. Elaborately drawn and colored plants and animals. Each page had a subject drawn three or four or five times at different perspectives and cross-sections. Measurements and descriptions organized the scattered images into an extravagant display of knowledge and craft. Foxes, Tulips, and... Deer.
"The white-tail."
"Yes, it was native to the Americas. This is based on information from books and movies Ive had. Gorgeous creature. I wish I could see one when we get to M..."
"Miami," I chimed in, "I got to see the last one in the Vienna Zoo when I was a kid. That must have been 30? 40 years ago? Wow."
"I only have a couple hundred of these illustrations, I-"
"Only?" she chuckled at my interjection.
"Only. I want to be there with you when you cross to the Pacific. I want to see and experience the flora and fauna."
I saw myself in her, and not in a gross perverted way. I could see the determination and desire for adventure. She was going to be my inspiration for the final part of my speech.
With the cue from Archer, I pressed the yellow button near the microphone and began, "New Horizon, this is Capi Santago Vega. In approximately 3 minutes, this vessel will officially enter into the unknown. From now on, please wear your TH4 protective suits when outdoors.
Let West 50 not only mark our geography, but let it be a testament to life forever blooming in spite of the challenges: manmade and natural.
With each step we will take, we will reclaim a fragment of what was lost, defying the annals of history and redefining our world.
There will be tough times ahead, but there will always be tough times. Aboard the New Horizon, times may be tougher, but our legacies will be greater. We will see a beautiful new world because you will all be there making it beautiful...
And there goes West 50. Through fire and fallout, humanity goes forward."
I watched the needle zip back and forth as the machine printed the prothetic finger. It may have been hypnotizing if the cartographer hadnt been crying a few feet away from me, "but my finger! Oh God, it will never be the same! Oh God, no!"
Dr. Mally removed the plastic hood from the machine, "Thank you Ennay."
The speakers crackled as Ennay responded, "Of course, Dr. Mally! It is my job as the Operating System of the New Horizon to aid in all matters as best I can!" the cartographer began to panic once more as the nurses prepared the surgery, "Even when crew-mates like Mr. Morgs slams a door unto his finger.
Morgs had never had a prosthetic before, obviously. Most of my right arm is skynthallic, but instead of wailing, all I ever did was learn to wear a seatbelt so it wouldnt happen again. Unfortunately, I needed to sign off on having Ennay process the finger mold without the surgeon's supervision. If I didnt need to, Id be staring out at the ocean Ive been dreaming about for decades.
"Capi Vega?"
"Yes, Ennay?" I asked the large screen by the printer.
"Your presence is required with Helmsan Archer in the Control Room."
"I am kinda busy, I ca-,"
"Sir, he says its... dire."
I apologized to the surgeon and wished the team, and Mr. Morgs, the best of luck before exiting the Medical Wing. Racing up the stairs, I could hear gossip about something people saw from the deck.
I burst into the Control Room.
Before anyone could explain the situation to me, the large glass windows told me all I needed.
"My God...," my face went pale. I tried to keep composure, but... well this was the largest, blackest storm I had ever seen.
"No scanners picked it up, Sir," Ben explained rapidly, "Its still completely invisible to any radars."
"Must have something to due with the radiation levels, somehow. Its clear enough over here, we should be able to read something, anything!"
"Sir, what should we do?" the room fell silent as the handful of operators stared up at me. I pinched at the hairs above my lip and stood in thought.
If we sail around it, we would lose time and possibly our location. The only reason we are so confident in where we are is due to how rigid our course has been. No one has sailed these waters in centuries, if we get lost out here, we could be lost to history.
Sailing through it, we could lose the ship. She is built for all kinds of storms, but this one would surely test Europian craftsmanship. Once we are in the storm, there is no turning back; going in circles when youre lost is the best way to stay lost.
Ben advised we try and go around, but I think he may doubt his own skill. Ben and I step into the hallway and have Ennay call for Max.
It took about 15 minutes, but the three of us has discussed and debates into a unanimous decision.
Ben Archer swung open the doors to the Control Room, "Full speed ahead."

Before I talk about my horrendous masturbating experience, I wanna give a backstory:
I live in Iran. I'm 20. I was raised in a sexually oppressed society. By the government, women are treated no more than a sexual thing. They have to wear full covering clothes. There are stories where the morality police murdered some girls for having even some strands of hair outside of their own scarf. Also, the age of majority and consent for girls is nine lunar years and for boys, it's fifteen.
I was also brainwashed by the government that men must be careful around women because all men are licentious and lustful and all women are seductive. So, in other words, they were indicating that all women are wh*re and all men are r*pist. My father was also a guy who was obsessed with the fact that I must not see any kind of sexual content. He was also an abusive father and an oppressor.
Not only that, but I was always sexually hyperactive in childhood. Even when I was almost 5 or 6 years old, I was always fantasizing about having sexual intercourse with women. When I was young, I would also like to have a girlfriend at my own age. For example, if I was 9, I would like to have a 9 year old girlfriend. However, I was also fantasizing about having a grown wife.
This led me to masturbation. I started masturbating since I was 8, and now I'm 20. I would always find images of celebrities and supermodels to masturbate with. Then, I found out about porn. On that time period, I was ashamed, but then the shame got away because I couldn't live with shame and I was tired of it thinking that I'm a sinful man trying to sexualize women.
So, I became an atheist. Then, I turned against the oppressing government and their beliefs. However, I was still masturbating to girls. This escalated since I developed a crush on a celebrity at my age. I was 17. This experience that I had a crush on a young lady, was starting a downfall that I didn't know. I was starting to masturbate to girls whom their age ranged from 17 to 20. Although my crush feelings went off, I was still masturbating to young girls.
Suddenly, I felt empty after masturbating, I was 18 at that point. I knew masturbation was wrong and I didn't have any intention to harm any women. I knew that I was following a fantasy, which was destructive. But this mindset harmed me. Because after a while, I followed some porn websites that were sexual assault roleplay or were about BDSM.
Remember when I said that I had sexual fantasies when I was approximately 6? Well, here is also a fact: even though I was very young, I didn't know that my fantasies contained sexual assault. I was fantasizing women screaming when I was touching them. These thought fell off after I grew up, but they came back. I became interested in BDSM porn category or porn videos where women are crying and screaming. I didn't and don't intend to sexually molest any women. I just have roleplay fantasies.
Then . . . this is where the fun I had, crushes. You see, these r*pe porn websites had ads and pop-ups. They would redirect you to click spamming websites. One of them, contained photos of naked underaged teen girls. I was shocked. I didn't want to masturbate to them. However, there was a voice. A voice from my young fantasies that was telling me: This is what you fantasize when you were a child. You have waited for this moment. Fulfill your fantasy. Release yourself from the oppression you pressured.
So, I did the unspeakable. When it was finished, my sexual urge fell off, and was shocked to see that I did this. I masturbated to an underaged girl. At first, I thought I'm a p*dophile. I tried to ask question from myself whether I am a sex predator. Well . . . maybe I was. It seemed that I became two separate characters: One, a man who was searching for morally correct acts and didn't want to be involved with any kind of sexual acts, and two, the oppressed young child who just wants to fulfill his own fantasies.
There was a point that months later, I even bought a cheap underage video collection. I thought I wanted this, but I suddenly realized that these girls are very young. I don't have any intention to masturbate with them. I deleted those videos and that channel who was selling them, got turned down by Telegram, which is a good thing.
However, months later again, when I was playing a game called The Sims 4 with a mod called WickedWhims, a voice told me to find out if there's a children mod for that mod. On that time period, I created a female child which was . . . I don't know how to say without seeming like a pervert . . . beautiful and her face seemed mature. I found that mod and did unspeakable things to the child character, and I masturbated. Then, I felt ashamed again and deleted the mod and my downloading account.
But when did I exactly stopped? For four months, I was looking forward instagram pages of underaged female models. Yes, I was masturbating to them rarely. The point I suddenly stopped masturbation was after the point when I masturbated to an 11-year-old model because her face seemed mature and I felt it was okay at that time. Suddenly, my fantasies were fulfilled. Then, I masturbated to an adult girl. I masturbated minutes before the clock turns to midnight.
At the same time, I realized I wanted to change. I don't want to follow up some broken fantasies anymore. So when the clock turned midnight, I told myself that I don't want to be a masturbation addict anymore. I'm a grown man. I have responsibility for my actions. I have a college to go. I have my personal desires to follow like playing good video games or watching productive YouTube videos which were held back by my addiction. I don't want to harm any children or women or anybody else, because I knew this is not who I am. I have been a top student in my school. My mother is proud of me. Why should I want to do this? I'm not this man.
Now, I'm free. I changed my mindset completely. It's over a while since I decided to change. I'm not hearing those voices anymore, and I'm glad that I actually found out that I am not and don't want to be a r*pist or a p*dophile. I stopped my fantasies when they were only just a fantasy, and not a reality. Even though I'm not proud of myself of masturbating to not only adult, but underaged girls, I know that the period I was coping with was not me. My real character and my sexual character were separated. Therefore, I'm happy that I settled down with myself and freed myself from the childhood oppression.

Originally posted as a comment to this post.
I bite my lip until it bleeds, attempting to ground myself with physical pain.
Oh master! Forgive me for perverting the techniques you entrusted to me.
My shaking hand manages to snatch a teardrop from the air just in time. Even a single teardrop would ruin the complex Fulu talisman that I just completed. I attach the talisman above the entrance to the cave, joining the dozens of other talismans already in place. Taking a moment to study the brilliant red cinnabar ink, I mentally trace each brush stroke of every character. Every symbol stirs up memories of endless practice under my master’s critical gaze; harsh punishments for the smallest imperfections resulting in bitter complaints from an ungrateful student. A wry smile briefly dances across my lips.
Master, forgive the foolish youth I once was. That of which I complained most bitterly is precisely what gives me the skill and power that I now wield.
Those few disciples who mastered the techniques of our sect obtained the rare ability to destroy the very essence of monsters and demonic beings. There are many with the skill to lure such creatures away from a town. Fewer who can, temporarily, destroy the physical manifestation of such abominations. But only the secrets of our sect could permanently pacify such beasts instead of simply driving them away to trouble some new location. Our senior disciples are able to sense and control the spiritual essence of these creatures. This allows them to guide the harmful spirits back into the Earth, allowing them to find rest.
That is why my actions tonight are blasphemous. I’m twisting my master’s techniques to draw the spiritual essence of a dragon back from out of the Earth herself and then I will guide this spiritual core back into the corpse of the dragon entombed within this cave. Such an act has never been attempted! While the blasphemy of this plan hangs heavy on my conscience, I do feel proud at how clearly I was able to see how to adapt these techniques to this task and how quickly I was able to modify the traditional talismans to help bring this dragon back to life. I have no doubt that I will succeed.
As I enter the cave, I look back at the events that led me here. Over the past 16 years, I became rather well known for my skill in pacifying demonic beasts that troubled towns and trade routes. With this reputation, people were eager to share with me any stories or news of troublesome beasts. These were rarely firsthand accounts; usually they were exaggerated rumors heard from travelers visiting a local tavern. However, I learned to discern the kernels of truth that often lay buried within these tall tales. Recently, those who traded in fantastic stories were obsessed with stories of dragons. After some research, I found the common elements in these stories pointed to a dragon terrifying a remote valley on the other side of the kingdom. In our part of the world, dragons typically keep to themselves, so I was excited at the prospect of my first dragon pacification. I made a rapid journey across the kingdom, taking no time to stop and enjoy the cities and towns that I passed through. When I arrived at the edge of the kingdom, I set off on foot to explore the remote valleys while looking for any evidence of a dragon causing trouble. Within several days, my efforts bore fruit. At the outer edge of a remote settlement, I saw a large dragon sitting in a pasture. The dragon was eagerly devouring an entire herd of livestock.
Wanting to save as much of the livestock as possible, I quickly subdued the spiritual essence of the dragon and began guiding it into the earth. I was surprised at how easy it was to pacify the beast – the dragon didn’t fight back at all. Perhaps it was simply torpid after eating so much. The next stage, waiting for the dragon’s spirit to fully disperse, required a considerable amount of time. I was skilled enough that I could use this time to study the dragon’s corpse. Its scales were a beautiful mottled brown that matched the pattern of the bark on the trees near the edge of the clearing. I noticed that the dragon was adorned with bracelets around its forearms, legs, and even the base of its tail. Dragons, of course, have a reputation for enjoying fine jewelry, but these were all woven from leather or thread and the quality was quite poor with many obvious mistakes in the weaving. Rather peculiar, but I had certainly seen stranger things in my travels. These were likely tokens from humans the dragon had killed previously, the poor settlers in the area not owning any real jewelry. Eventually, the dragon’s essence was fully dispersed and I went in search of a cave in the nearby cliffs to use as a crypt for the dragon’s corpse. After the exhausting job of moving the dragon’s body, I walked to the village to share the good news.
It’s difficult to overstate how shocked I was at the villagers’ reaction to my news. Instead of the usual cheering and celebration there was only silence. The older children and younger teenagers, in particular, looked like they were about to cry. After a minute of awkward silence, the adults became angry! They started yelling at me, threatening me, making the most vile and horrid accusations. I simply couldn’t understand what was happening. Were these people all bewitched by some evil spirit? I tested the room as best I could in those chaotic circumstances, but found no evidence of possession or entrancement. The people were honestly angry with me!
Eventually, I got them to calm down enough so I could actually understand what they were yelling at me. They kept saying the dragon was friendly and considered a citizen of the village. I tried to explain that I caught the dragon devouring a farmer’s livestock. A farmer yelled something about a payment and keeping wolves away; I was rather distracted by the anger in his eyes and the pitchfork in his hand that he kept threatening me with. Eventually, the adults stopped yelling at me when several of the children approached. With tears in their eyes they told me about the friendship bracelets they made for their friend and how they looked forward to playing with the dragon every weekend. I still find it difficult to believe, but the children’s grief was so utterly sincere that I was finally convinced they were all telling the truth.
Once I understood how important the dragon was to this small community, my heart broke. They must have seen how much this realization affected me because they stopped yelling and threatening me. After more awkward silence, the elders said the village would prefer that I leave so they could mourn the loss of their friend in peace. I was escorted out of the town and the sheriff, with anger in his voice, asked me never to return. Apologies would do little to repair the harm that I had done, so I nodded and walked towards the mountains from whence I had come.
Never before have I been so angry! Never before have I felt such hatred of myself! I was enraged and full of a dangerous energy that threatened to overwhelm me. It took all of the discipline and training that I had ever learned to contain this anger and cool it down into something productive. I had to channel this energy and there was only one action that would give me release: I had to bring the dragon back to life.
The very thought of such blasphemy shook me to my core, but it was the only way to restore my honor. I had spent my life trying to help and protect the people in this kingdom. I never cared if it was a shack of the poorest old widow or a mansion of a great noble; my only goal was to bring peace and relief. Now, I had destroyed the peace of this village. Instead of relief, I brought them grief. I killed their friend and wounded the hearts of their children. The only way forward was to undo this terrible deed even if it went against everything my master taught me. I took a slow breath and waited for my thoughts to settle. I was now standing next to the massive muzzle of the beautiful forest dragon, the innocent dragon that I had killed. Wiping away the last of my tears, I began the process of searching for the dragon’s spiritual essence.

_.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-.
Chapter III - Is that baklava, or are you just happy to see me? San Francisco, California - Market & Castro - June 1st, 2008
Number 5: "So there I was, at a Fetus/GWAR concert and I'm right at the barricade at the very front between sets, and there's this super HOT fucking bouncer chick, right? And she's staring right at me, and I look right at Oderus, and he looks right at me, and we both stare at this fine ass bouncer working crowd security at the front. Then, just out of nowhere, she lifts her shirt and whips her tits out and points at her mouth, and they aim the blood canon right at her and absolutely blast her with purple monster blood all over her in the face and tits. And me and Oderus look at her, then each other, and then just shrug, and man. It was fucking awesome..."
Command: "When was the last time you went to a GWAR concert, Five?"
Number 5: "It was at least back in 03'... Hold up. We've got Cookie monsters gathering in Jane Warner Plaza... You seeing this Seven?"
Number 7/Overwatch: "Copy that, five. They just hopped out of the MUNI, and looks like they're getting hot for boy pussy... Fucking dickholes..."
Command: "Okay ladies, don't get your panties in a twist. We need this to go down quietly. Do you have eyes on the package?"
Number 6: "Packages everywhere. Literally, but not the one we're looking for..."
Number 8: "Be advised, we've got Hajis and Skinnies popping out of the Muni station. Looks like they're here for more than just tail. Do you see this Command?"
Command: "Roger that, Eight. Keep it tight and don't let them out of your sight. Five, I want a danger close tail on those fuckwads, and find out if they're here for the package."
Number 5: "Copy, Command. I'll drop a line to the West Side Story boys, and see if they can keep a visual. Just a sec... Crutchie, do you read?"
Crutchie: "Oooh, is that who I think it is? Five, Darling. You never called me back after last time... And I thought we had sooo much in common."
Number 5: "Well that was before you made out with and keestered our asset, and made him pop positive for molly on a piss test, Crutchie..."
Crutchie: *Twirls a lock of hair* Whatever, Five. And he was soooo hot to trot too. Tsssssss."
Number 6: "Doesn't Crutchie always try to bone all of our assets?"
Crutchie: "Only if they're hot enough, Six..."
Number 8: "By the way Crutchie, really digging the whole hipsteClark Kent get up you've got going for you. Does it normally get you tagged by boner, or is that how you always dress when courting an investment banker?"
Crutchie: "Only when they're getting right off of work and hitting the club scene, Eight. Okay, I've got visual on the Skinnies. I'll have Leather Daddy run the tail from here, and we'll have Gilette and Stabby watch from their perch."
Number 6: "Tell Gilette I said Hi. Is she still dating that fucking twat from Jersey? Last time we had an engagement, she almost blew the whole damned OP over a tray of creme brulee..."
Crutchie: "Yeah, well bitch had a sweet tooth... Never get between a woman and what she's craving during a pregnancy..."
Number 7/Overwatch: "We've got a problem. Looks like the Skinnies are heading over to the deli for some falafel, and they've got company. Looks like the Greek mobsters from Kearny Street we saw last week..."
Command: "Keep it cool, ladies. The last thing we need is for one of you to get made if these fuckers start exchanging bullets. Hopefully they keep their dildos in their holsters..."
Crutchie: "Speaking of dildos, when's the last time you had some poon, Five? It's been what, over a year since you had that hot goth chick you were making out with at my mom's apartment? Or are you into dudes now?"
Number 5: "I don't get attached, Crutchie. I'm here for a good time, not a long time. Remember?"
Crutchie: "Okay, if you say so, but you still didn't answer my question, darling..."
Stabby: "Daddy, do you have visual? Pop a twenty in the deli and order some baklava. Find out if these fuckers are here for the package."
Leather Daddy: "If you say so, sweetie. And ooooh, good call. The baklava is to die for. You've absolutely gotta try some sometime..."
Stabby: "Be advised, Six. We've got the Sesame Street convention hopping out of the MUNI station. Looks like the perverts you warned us about on the APB."
Number 6: "Got visual, and yep. Those are the same perps."
Crutchie: "I don't want to be a party pooper, ladies, but I've got an investment banker to impress... Think you can party with Stabby and Gilette for now?"
Number 5: "Damn it, Crutchie... and by impress you mean..."
Crutchie: "Always sweetheart."
*The four suspects start heading over to the Palestinian Deli*
Number 6: "We've got a problem, looks like the Cookie Monsters already know the Greek Malacca fuckwads... Command, you seeing this?"
Command: "Affirmative, Six. Standby for further instructions. Daddy, how's the baklava looking?"
Leather Daddy: "Oooh, sweet as can be. You like shwarma, sweetie?"
Command: "Not really, Daddy. Kebabs are my thing, and usually salmon if they have it, and have decent enough tatsiki sauce."
Number 7/Overwatch: "One of the skinnies isn't looking so hot. You see the heat on him? He's burning up..."
Crutchie: "And by burning up, I'm going to assume you mean in a less than sexy way?"
Stabby: "Confirmed on the thermal, Seven. He's got a temp of over 107 .
*The Somalian youth in the leather jacket keels over to his hands and knees and starts coughing up blood*
Number 6: "Well, that's not a good sign... You seeing this command?"
Command: "Affirmative, Six. Keep a distance in case he's got ebola or some shit. Daddy? Be advised, the skinny in front of the deli is coughing up blood. Keep a good gap and follow the others when they move.
Leather Daddy: "Yes, Mommy. I thought you'd never ask."
Stabby: "Looks like the Hajis are heading across the street to the bodega next to the bakery/ice cream shop. Standby, Daddy. This could get complicated. Let's see what these fuckers are about.
Leather Daddy: "Oooh, what a co-inky-dink. My girls are getting ready for Rocky tonight. They're at Starbucks right now. Should I give them a ringy-dingy?
Gilette: "Copy that, Daddy. The more the merrier."
Number 6: "Looks like the Skinnies are on the move, and they don't seem to give a fuck about their buddies well being, they're just dragging him along..."
Number 7/Overwatch: "Yep, looks like they're heading into the plaza in front of Twin Peaks right now. Those Malacca fucks are still milling about with the Sesame Street parade."
Number 5: "Copy that. Let's keep the logistics for this shit under wraps. Dykie, Stabby, Daddy? We'll do a split push. You have your girls at Starbucks watch the Hajis, and we'll keep an eye on the Plaza. If anymore Cookie Monsters pop up out of the Muni, I'm going to get fucking heartburn."
July 2nd, 2008 - 2148 Hours San Francisco, California - Market & Castro - June 1st, 2008
*The four Muhajadeen gatherered in front of the bodega, while the elder with the flowing beard and trucker cap walked in the front door. Sueliman lit a cigarette while Mohammed and Ismael looked at Mehmed sideways*
*Simultaneously, Dave and Richard sat in Jane Warner Plaza, reading magazines and eating sandwiches they bought moments earlier from next door to Twin Peaks.*
Sgt. Dave: "You ever get the feeling we're in the wrong line of work? I mean, with all the shit going on in the world today, we could be overseas making a difference, and instead we're walking a beat to protect a bunch of entitled liberals and hipsters..."
Pvt. Richard: "You're barking up the wrong tree with that one, Sarge. I already did my tour, and it was a steaming pile of dog shit. War is still not over. Not by a long shot. I'll take walking a beat with this crowd any time, compared to getting keestered in some Iraqi shithole mosque's basement, any day of the fucking week."
Number 5: "Be on the lookout, we've got two cops sitting in the plaza and they are completely fucking clueless to the Sesame Street brigade gathering around them."
Stabby: "Copy that, Five. They're beat cops, and they're usuals in this neck of the woods. They're not involved in policing this kind of shit..."
Leather Daddy: "Ooooh girls, looks like we got some boys from the Bin Laden fan club gathering in front of the bodega, and I think they're there to buy more than just bongs and zig zags..."
Number 6: "Copy that, Daddy. Looks like the Skinnies are walking past the Cafe and are heading down Market. The Greeks are still hanging out in front of the deli..."
Gilette: "Looks like Rip Van Wrinkle from the Muhajedeen is going to be in there for a while. Standby. Yo, Daddy. Can you get a stoner or hardcore pothead to drop in there and see what the fuck is going on inside?
Leather Daddy: "Passing Squat and Gobble right now, tailing the pirates. I'll see what I can do... Heeeeeey, Javier?"
Javier: "God damn it, dude. I told you not to call me this early. I'm not holding and the dispensary doesn't restock until Tuesday..."
Leather Daddy: "Well, see. If you could help a brother out, I've got this group from the Bin Laden fan club at the bodega bong shop around the corner from the flag, and I really need someone to drop by and give a looksie. Could you be a dear and do me a favor, just this once?"
Javier: "Yeah, yeah, Daddy-o. I'll have one of the Punk rockers from up the street drop by and get a pair of ears in there. It could be a minute though..."
Leather Daddy: "Ahoy! The sooner the better sweetie. We're running a tight ship."
Javier: "Got someone walking up the block on a parallel route right now. Should be there in a minute twenty."
Leather Daddy: "Fantastic! I'll definitely owe you one, Javi."
Javier: "Any time, Daddy-O."
*Just then, a Ford Explorer pulled up at the intersection of Market and Castro, with 20" rims and neon lights on the under carriage. "Mac Dre" was dumping out of the woofers*
Stabby: "And look who it is..."
Gilette: "Sauce boss is early today, eh?"
Stabby: "Probably about to hit the Cafe for the usual customers. If they run into the Sesame Street convention in the plaza, we could be looking at a shootout in the making..."
Number 6: "Be advised, Greeks are looking heated."
Number 5: "Don't tell me those malacca fuckwads are thinking what I think they're thinking..."
Command: "Five, Six, Seven, Eight! Do NOT engage! I repeat! Do NOT engage!"
Gilette: "Oh, Motherfucker-"
*The Greeks in front of the Palestinian deli eyeballed the Ford Explorer and reached into their coats as it rounded the corner on Castro. That's when Intratec Tec DC-9s with extended barrels and 30 round mags popped out of the windows, and it began to rain 9mm x 19mm shell casings and ball parabellum rounds.* _.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-._.-=-.
Chapter 4 - We need more cone charges... Hayward, California - July 6th 2008 - 0324 Hours Mobile Task Force - Epsilon Bravo VII (The Renegades)
EB7-5: "Well that was a shitshow the other night..."
EB7-6: "Yeah, tell me about it, Five. And we got reassigned to the Scooby Squad and the Mystery Machine? Literally, how in the fuck does that happen?"
EB7-8: "Well, those coke dealers weren't playing around when those Greek kid fuckers reached for their jammies..."
EB7-7/Overwatch: "No shit. It was curtains the minute they dug in. Damned shamed about the package though, we almost had that fucker."
EB7-6: "Hey Five, you know if those cops made it? The ones in the plaza?"
EB7-5: "They were wearing standard issue kevlar. The few strays the sergeant caught to the torso tagged him in the vest, but one got him in the shoulder. The Private got one in the pelvis, so he's in ICU still. We don't know if he'll pull through."
EB7-8: "They were a game changer though, through and through. Lucky for the Sergeant, that Private was a Seal."
EB7-5: "Well, that made all the difference in that world." she said, making a wide covering arc with her extended barrel AA-12 as she knelt and held up a balled fist to Six and Eight, a 30 round drum of 12-gauge Thamauturgically enhanced cobalt slugs hung from beneath her weapon, and two more drums were in her pack, just like the rest of her 3 person fire team whom also had similar loadouts of AA-12s, each one with a secondary loadout of short barrel SCAR-Light bullpups and several 30 round magazines in their Boron-Ceramic armor's LBVs. Seven had standard issue .50 Cal tungsten carbide SLAP rounds enhanced with neutronic singularity dispersement tips at the ready, and an FN-FS2000 with lithium plasma phase differential bullets.
EB7-Command: "Good evening, Ladies..."
EB7-6: "Holy fuck, is that Gator?"
EB7-Command: "The one and only, Six."
EB7-5: "Congrats on the promotion, Captain. Glad to have you join us..."
EB7-Command: "Thanks, Five. I'd hate to be the bearer of bad news, but switch to your visors. You've got some tangoes up ahead and I don't think they're here for tea."
EB7-5: "Roger that. Gear up girls, this is what we signed up for. Switching to multispectral..."
Professor Chaos: "Wait for me to run point up ahead, and you three cover me. I need to see what these things are up to..."
EB7-5: "Copy that, Skippy. Just don't get your damned arms ripped off, got it?"
Professor Chaos: "Roger that, Five. I'm Oscar Mike, with Charlie..." he said, as he closed his eyes and began walking, doing his best to concentrate, craning his head from right to left. Taking a bandana out of his pouch, he tied it around his eyes so he wouldn't have any distractions...
Professor Chaos: "Be advised, I'm reading some temporal-spatial anomalies about half a click ahead."
EB7-Command: 'You can fucking see that shit, Skippy?"
Professor Chaos: "Five, now would be a damned good time to deploy a mobile Scranton Beam Projector..."
EB7-5: "Copy that, Skippy. Tripod deploying the directed energy stabilization field in ten seconds." Ten seconds later, there was a brief temporal distortion, and the spatial fabric of the facility wavered and shimmered momentarily.
EB7-5: "Temporal-Spatial stabilization synchronized, Skippy. You're clear to proceed."
EB7-6: "Didn't Nazis used to use this place as a secret base after the war?"
EB7-Command: "Correct, Six. Those fuckers were hiding under everyone's noses for decades until OSI flushed them out in the 70's. Place has been In-OP and direlect for decades, but the Serpents Legion teamed up with what was left of the Ahnernerbe Inner Circle back in the Satanic Panic of the 80's and 90's. They've been using the place on and off since then..."
EB7-Gunny: "Lance and I will keep watch here on the surface and give you a heads up if anyone decides to drop by. As of now though, not a soul knows were here, and Higher made sure to keep it dark on signals. We're the only one's that will be in or out... Professor, don't get shanked by a fucking sorcerer now, or worse get Shanghai'ed by the damned cult. Motherfuckers will be sad if your ass gets eaten by a God damned monster, Skippy..."
Lance Corporal Todd slung the M32A1 over his torso as he slid the extra clips of .308 into the LBV on his Boron/Ceramic armor. Taking his bullpup SCAR Heavy with suppressor and Multispec scope, he gave a brief once over of his gear. Corpsman Bill did the same, as did Gunny Wilson. Each one had similar rotary grenade launchers with high explosive armor piercing 40mm grenades, and extra ordinance and munitions in their packs, including cone charges, claymores, and various utility grenades like flashbangs and thermite. Taking one last look at each other, they switched on their quantum camouflage, and their forms shimmered and disappeared to visible light spectrum. Switching to back scatter X-Ray/Multispec, they nodded to each other and made off to secure the entrances at the perimeter.
EB7-Bill: "Did you make sure to wash with hunter's soap and scent free baking soda deodorant, guys?"
EB7-Wilson: "Copy that, Corpsman. I can't even smell myself."
EB7-Todd: "Yeah, it's weird. It's like 99 degrees right now and I'm not even sweating, let alone smelling myself. At least it's not like Mississippi..."
Just then a pair of headlights could be seen rolling down towards the warehouses. The sound of Reggaton could be heard on subwoofer.
EB7-Bill: "Well boys, it looks like we've got company, and I don' think they're here for the same reason we are. Let's just hope its a drug deal or an arms sale, and let them go on their way."
An electrical company van's headlights could be seen coming from the opposite direction, and it was being followed by a repair truck with a bucket lift.
EB7-Wilson: "I Get the creeping suspicion that these cats aren't here to check the meter."
EB7-Todd: "Command, be advised. We've got activity here on the surface. Looks like gangster shit, but we've also got some utility workers on their way to the street parallel to us. What do you want us to do for now?"
EB7-Command: "I'm less worried about the gangsters, and more concerned about the utility workers. Keep an eye on them. Especially if they start snooping around.
EB7-Bill: "Copy that, Command. We'll be on the lookout."
The Escalade bumping the reggaton pulled off to a side road a few streets over, and the Utility van and bucket truck pulled the same way. More headlights could be seen as two vehicles came from the same direction as the gangsters. One was a Dodge grand caravan, and the other was a Ford F-350 XL.
EB7-Wilson: "Oh shit, this can't be good. Command, you seeing this?" It was then that the microwave uplink to the aerial surveillance drone scrambled and cut out.
EB7-Command: "Well fuck me running, boys, but looks like the drone's feed just ate shit, and the timing of theses utility workers and gangsters is a little too convenient. Stay in the shadows. It looks like they're here for us and the girls..."
Three men in body armor with kitted out Ak-47s and NV goggles hopped out of the Escalade. Five more hopped out of the minivan, equally geared up. Two hopped out of the truck, and went around back for large metal cases and dragged them to the ground, as well as three C-Bags. A man in a white suit with a white cabana hat stepped out of the Utility Van, and lit a cigar.
Mercenary Captain: "Buenos Tardes, Patron. Es tiempo." The man in the white, gave him one stern look and simply said, "¿Si? Bien."
The Captain pointed his AK-47 at the ground as he slapped the side of the truck twice and yelled to the men, "Vamanos puez! Andele!" The nine men gathered around, and each one dropped to one knee, and lowered their heads. Taking a puff of his cigar and pinching it between his fingers, the man in white outstretched his arms and stepped forward.
Man In White: "Welcome, Children of the Night! The Serpent is with us. I do hope you are all ready to do the Lord's work..."
It was at this point that the power went out for the entire grid to the whole city. All the lights and ground communications went dark in that very moment.
Man In White: "Viya con dios, Mijos."
They all rose to their feet and immediately began unloading the crates of rocket launchers and light machine guns, and ammo boxes.
EB7-Wilson: "Yeah. Guess they're not here to check the meter fellas. These aren't Mexican mafia at all... They're something else..."
EB7-Command: "Hopefully they don't see you yet..."
It was then that the Man in White walked 90 º perpendicular to physical 4th dimensional reality and winked out of existence. His men did a double take and stood there flabbergasted for at least a minute looking around until the Captain said, "Get back to work!"
EB7-Wilson: "You fucking see that shit, Gator?"
EB7-Command: "Yeeeeeah. That's NOT a good sign. Ladies, this is probably not a good time, but we've got our hands full up here. Stick to securing the objective with Professor Chaos. We've got a mess about to happen and will do our best to hold them off while we can."
EB7-5: "Yeah, we got a Temporal-Spatial distortion spike right before you told us. Well stick with Skippy. Seven, you're up here with us. All of us will stick in a five man team from here on out. Going radio dark, Command. We don't know if our COMS encryption's been burned yet.
EB7-Command: "Good call, Five. We'll head down there as soon as we get this handled. Good luck." Wilson, Todd, and Bill, held their positions and aimed their weapons at the entourage of mercenaries.
EB7-Wilson: "Don't do a thing unless they fire at us. It's better we aren't seen and don't have to engage unless we have no other options."
The Man in White's voice echoed in Wilson's head.
Man In White: "I appreciate you demonstrating a professional courtesy of sparing my men, Gunnery Sergeant Dennis Nathaniel Wilson, and honestly you and your fireteam could have killed them all rather quickly if you were motivated enough. However, I cannot guarantee the girls success of securing the relic. You will find that its guardians can be rather- persistent. Now tell me more about the SCIP friend of yours...Professor Chaos."
EB7-Wilson: "I remember your from Peshwar. You were with the general from ISI in '03." *His eyes widened* "You're-" Wilson's eyes rolled back into his head and he began twitching as he entered a fugue state and convulsed and foamed at the mouth. He fell to the ground unconscious shortly thereafter. He plopped like a ragdoll with an invisible *thud*. It was then that the Man in White began probing his memories...
EB7-Command: "Wilson! Damn it Gunny, Wake UP!"
_ To Be Continued...

Today is my birthday. Now i am a year older , but i am feeling scared. I have not achieved anything in life. I need to say to people that it's my birthday so they will wish me kind scenario. I am an introvert and don't have good communication skills also a straight forward guy who doesn't realise someone is using me until something bad happens or someone tells me, i don't know what kind of character am i. I don't even someone to tell me what u feel like, to hug, to cry, i don't how to make people happy so nobody gets near me as they get irritated by me and i am a matured person in terms of talk's, my looks everything i am okay with being alone, am fighting alone.. But i am afraid i will not succeed in life, everyone can fool me easily even i know theyare making me a fool, i just don't say anything afraid that i will hurt them by saying something. Nobody besides my family loves me, i have my parents that is a great blessing but even though why i hurt every human i meet i don't know why my character is that bad. Tp say frankly i am still a virgin in my mid 20's, everyone will even hwve a gf in the study years but i haven't had anyone,also its not only about sex i am talking about it's that i want to know the feeling of being loved by someone like shown in the movies or real life love stories, hold hands and walk a long distance.... I don't know what else to say. I am lazy guy and my situation just made a more weaker and i am not getting where i want to be, even learning my mistakes. I feel jealous and sad at people who have lovers or besties😬 as they got someone who can understand them, i don't even know how to talk to any one and everything just getting worse. I don't know why i am writing this, but i just felt something maybe all of the things i mentioned, i don't have any justification. My parents made a mature person even in my childhood, i don't remember playing with children of my age so well, its because they always neglected me as my character was not getting well with them. Them i wear spectacles, it became a weakness and i just hate why i can't see like a normal person, this fault made me not dp so many things, there are so many who does things with very less eye sight too.. but i couldn't, maybe the hate towards myself thinking of the problems i have and not getting a solution for it. I just hate my life getting older day by day, still stuck at somewhere don't know what to do? Where to go? A crying child standing alone under rain!. I don't know if anyone will understand this but i am not a good guy but i was always trying to be good and now i realise i am just a dumb who even can't life a normal life. I am a pervert, i am not a good son, i am not good friend, i am not good at anything.... Why does it happen to me? Why does this happen to anyone. I got few friends and thankful they stickwith me and didn't forgot but if there is something i am the last person to know about it and just have to adjust with everyone, for the sake of not being alone or getting abandoned by them also.! Why can't i hurt people? Why can't i talk properly? Why can't i enjoy life? Why can't i even get a girl? Why i am here☹️...
Also forgot to add something, i want to be an actor but also very scared that my faults won't make me an actor and i don't want make anyone irritated by getting a casting, i just don't know how to become an actor. Simply can't ask for anything for me, even arole in a movie also. My insecurities, inferiority complex everything pulling me back, time is getting passed and i don't if I will be an actor someday, actually i want to leave this life and want to become an actor very much, but my financial staus is not allowing me, getting into movies doesn't always pays well at first or even for many years for guys like me who can't understand business or ask money for what i do, it's too complicated for me. Only thing i know is that ijust want to be an actor, its something that makes me feel something different or normal, i have acted in shortfilms and worked as assistant in every part of short films which i did with my friend. I didn't got any fame or anything but it was something that made me feel happy, that is why i keep saying i need to become anactor. Everyone laughs at me for saying this but i couldn't agree prove them wrong. Newcomer's getting good movies, good roles make me wonder why i can't do it, hut then i realise i am not fit for anything ☹️

I know this is not a topic to discuss here but still. Today is my birthday. Now i am a year older , but i am feeling scared. I have not achieved anything in life. I need to say to people that it's my birthday so they will wish me kind scenario. I am an introvert and don't have good communication skills also a straight forward guy who doesn't realise someone is using me until something bad happens or someone tells me, i don't know what kind of character am i. I don't even someone to tell me what u feel like, to hug, to cry, i don't how to make people happy so nobody gets near me as they get irritated by me and i am a matured person in terms of talk's, my looks everything i am okay with being alone, am fighting alone.. But i am afraid i will not succeed in life, everyone can fool me easily even i know theyare making me a fool, i just don't say anything afraid that i will hurt them by saying something. Nobody besides my family loves me, i have my parents that is a great blessing but even though why i hurt every human i meet i don't know why my character is that bad. To say frankly i am still a virgin in my mid 20's, everyone will even hwve a gf in the study years but i haven't had anyone,also its not only about sex i am talking about it's that i want to know the feeling of being loved by someone like shown in the movies or real life love stories, hold hands and walk a long distance.... I don't know what else to say. I am lazy guy and my situation just made a more weaker and i am not getting where i want to be, even learning my mistakes. I feel jealous and sad at people who have lovers or besties😬 as they got someone who can understand them, i don't even know how to talk to any one and everything just getting worse. I don't know why i am writing this, but i just felt something maybe all of the things i mentioned, i don't have any justification. My parents made a mature person even in my childhood, i don't remember playing with children of my age so well, its because they always neglected me as my character was not getting well with them. Them i wear spectacles, it became a weakness and i just hate why i can't see like a normal person, this fault made me not dp so many things, there are so many who does things with very less eye sight too.. but i couldn't, maybe the hate towards myself thinking of the problems i have and not getting a solution for it. I just hate my life getting older day by day, still stuck at somewhere don't know what to do? Where to go? A crying child standing alone under rain!. I don't know if anyone will understand this but i am not a good guy but i was always trying to be good and now i realise i am just a dumb who even can't life a normal life. I am a pervert, i am not a good son, i am not good friend, i am not good at anything.... Why does it happen to me? Why does this happen to anyone. I got few friends and thankful they stickwith me and didn't forgot but if there is something i am the last person to know about it and just have to adjust with everyone, for the sake of not being alone or getting abandoned by them also.! Why can't i hurt people? Why can't i talk properly? Why can't i enjoy life? Why can't i even get a girl? Why i am here☹️
Also forgot to add something, i want to be an actor but also very scared that my faults won't make me an actor and i don't want make anyone irritated by getting a casting, i just don't know how to become an actor. Simply can't ask for anything for me, even arole in a movie also. My insecurities, inferiority complex everything pulling me back, time is getting passed and i don't if I will be an actor someday, actually i want to leave this life and want to become an actor very much, but my financial staus is not allowing me, getting into movies doesn't always pays well at first or even for many years for guys like me who can't understand business or ask money for what i do, it's too complicated for me. Only thing i know is that ijust want to be an actor, its something that makes me feel something different or normal, i have acted in shortfilms and worked as assistant in every part of short films which i did with my friend. I didn't got any fame or anything but it was something that made me feel happy, that is why i keep saying i need to become anactor. Everyone laughs at me for saying this but i couldn't agree prove them wrong. Newcomer's getting good movies, good roles make me wonder why i can't do it, hut then i realise i am not fit for anything ☹️

Today is my birthday. Now i am a year older , but i am feeling scared. I have not achieved anything in life. I need to say to people that it's my birthday so they will wish me kind scenario. I am an introvert and don't have good communication skills also a straight forward guy who doesn't realise someone is using me until something bad happens or someone tells me, i don't know what kind of character am i. I don't even someone to tell me what u feel like, to hug, to cry, i don't how to make people happy so nobody gets near me as they get irritated by me and i am a matured person in terms of talk's, my looks everything i am okay with being alone, am fighting alone.. But i am afraid i will not succeed in life, everyone can fool me easily even i know theyare making me a fool, i just don't say anything afraid that i will hurt them by saying something. Nobody besides my family loves me, i have my parents that is a great blessing but even though why i hurt every human i meet i don't know why my character is that bad. Tp say frankly i am still a virgin in my mid 20's, everyone will even hwve a gf in the study years but i haven't had anyone,also its not only about sex i am talking about it's that i want to know the feeling of being loved by someone like shown in the movies or real life love stories, hold hands and walk a long distance.... I don't know what else to say. I am lazy guy and my situation just made a more weaker and i am not getting where i want to be, even learning my mistakes. I feel jealous and sad at people who have lovers or besties😬 as they got someone who can understand them, i don't even know how to talk to any one and everything just getting worse. I don't know why i am writing this, but i just felt something maybe all of the things i mentioned, i don't have any justification. My parents made a mature person even in my childhood, i don't remember playing with children of my age so well, its because they always neglected me as my character was not getting well with them. Them i wear spectacles, it became a weakness and i just hate why i can't see like a normal person, this fault made me not dp so many things, there are so many who does things with very less eye sight too.. but i couldn't, maybe the hate towards myself thinking of the problems i have and not getting a solution for it. I just hate my life getting older day by day, still stuck at somewhere don't know what to do? Where to go? A crying child standing alone under rain!. I don't know if anyone will understand this but i am not a good guy but i was always trying to be good and now i realise i am just a dumb who even can't life a normal life. I am a pervert, i am not a good son, i am not good friend, i am not good at anything.... Why does it happen to me? Why does this happen to anyone. I got few friends and thankful they stickwith me and didn't forgot but if there is something i am the last person to know about it and just have to adjust with everyone, for the sake of not being alone or getting abandoned by them also.! Why can't i hurt people? Why can't i talk properly? Why can't i enjoy life? Why can't i even get a girl? Why i am here☹️...
Also forgot to add something, i want to be an actor but also very scared that my faults won't make me an actor and i don't want make anyone irritated by getting a casting, i just don't know how to become an actor. Simply can't ask for anything for me, even arole in a movie also. My insecurities, inferiority complex everything pulling me back, time is getting passed and i don't if I will be an actor someday, actually i want to leave this life and want to become an actor very much, but my financial staus is not allowing me, getting into movies doesn't always pays well at first or even for many years for guys like me who can't understand business or ask money for what i do, it's too complicated for me. Only thing i know is that ijust want to be an actor, its something that makes me feel something different or normal, i have acted in shortfilms and worked as assistant in every part of short films which i did with my friend. I didn't got any fame or anything but it was something that made me feel happy, that is why i keep saying i need to become anactor. Everyone laughs at me for saying this but i couldn't agree prove them wrong. Newcomer's getting good movies, good roles make me wonder why i can't do it, hut then i realise i am not fit for anything ☹️

TW: Abuse
I posted in here a few days ago about my complicated albeit cliche dilemma of having hooked up with my daughter's now fiance before they met and not telling her for more than 2 years. I've read the comments, especially the helpful ones and decided that the best next step is to talk to Dave (fake name, my daughter's fiance) and convince him that together, we should tell my daughter our past. I will keep this first and final (hopefully) update as short as I can.
The day after my post, I reached out to Dave and we had another talk. I told him that we should come clean. At first, he begged me not to tell my daughter about what happened, explaining that it is in the past now and no one needs to know about it. He pointed out that bringing it up now after years will only unnecessarily stir the pot and cause trouble. Basically the same points he raised when we first talked. I see his points but remained adamant on what I want to happen. I explained myself, citing the points raised by the comment section from my last post (I didn't tell him I made a post about it in reddit). When he didn't budge, I gave him his options: (1) he and I will tell my daughter our complicated past or (2) I will do it alone.
My ultimatum only made Dave flip. He goes the opposite route. He started cussing. Accusing me of being jealous. Calling me a pervert for secretly having feeling for him and now that he is getting married, wanting to ruin his life. And all that bullshit. This is completely far from the truth but still it stung a bit. It did made me realize that something is off with Dave. I kept my cool and let him rant until he too calmed down. That's when he finally told me what was really going on.
I will not disclose the intimate details of what Dave told me but here's the gist: Dave was abused when he was younger and it lasted through his teenage years until he was an adult. It only stopped when the abuser died in an accident which sent him spiraling. It lead him to struggle with his identity, depression, panic attacks, drinking and hooking up with men. This was when we met and honestly, explains a lot of why our dynamic in bed was the way it was. Thankfully, he found help and turned his life around. He became sober, stopped hooking up with men, and continued with therapy. This leads to him finally realizing that he is indeed straight and in shame, wanted to put that part of his past behind him. It was also around this time when he met my daughter.
We talked some more and I finally convinced him to tell my daughter everything, assuring him that she will not judge him for it like he feared. We set the date and when the day came, I was nervous as hell. I can tell Dave was too while my daughter was clueless.
Close to the end of dinner, we told my daughter everything. Sorry for everyone who is expecting a big dramatic climax, but what happened next was anti-climactic. After telling my daughter everything, she confessed that she knew about it from the beginning. Not the very beginning, she didn't know about it when they first met. But after she invited him over and I met Dave for the first time, she noticed the awkwardness and knew something was up. When I pulled Dave to the side to talk, she eavesdropped and heard everything. (I honestly don't remember any of this.) She said she was weirded out by it at first but then she thought of it and decided she doesn't care. She didn't think she could tell us she knew so she just waited for when he and I would eventually come clean. I confessed that we almost didn't and she told me she actually forgot about all of this until tonight when this happened.
Ultimately, the night ended with me being more confused as to what happned and relieved that what I feared would happen did not happen. It's been a couple of days since then and so far, all is well. My daughter and I still talk regularly. Dave told her everything about his traumatic past in private and this only made them closer. She's still looking forward to and happily preparing for the wedding next year.
So I guess that's that. So there seemed to be no point in me worrying about what I was worrying about but I am still thankful that I posted my original post and have had a bunch of insightful comments that made me decide to finally come clean. Thank you everyone.
TLDR: Me and the fiance finally came clean to my daughter about the hook ups that happened before they meet. She already knew and doesn't care.

I say it into the mirror, brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a tight smile.
“I am happy.” My fingers clutch the edge of the bathroom sink, and a muscle twitches near my eye. Something tugs at the corner of my mind. A thought, maybe. It’s tempting me to peek at it, begging me to acknowledge it and push it out into the light of day, but I can't.
I won't.
My mother calls me from the kitchen. “Are you ready for school?”
“Yes,” I call back. “I am.”
I take another few moments to stare at myself. I burn the image of how happy I am into my memory, just in case I start to forget.
It’s a big day, after all.
The car chokes and sputters as it makes its way to school. I’m in tenth grade and I have no idea what I want to do with my life, but I know that’s okay. It’s normal. Nobody does.
Except for Maggie Taller, and Suhky Raj, and David Cho, and Adam Wallace. They’re going to be doctors and engineers and carpenters and drug dealers. They’re going to be happy.
We pull into the school parking lot. The van spits out a plume of smoke the size of Jupiter. Once the pollution clears, I open the door and look out over a sea of faces. Some of them are staring back at me. Some of them are snickering. One of them is Maggie Taller, and she’s waving—all red curls and dimples, so I wave back. My stomach does a frontflip.
“Have a good day,” my mother says. I look her way, and her face lights up with an expression that resembles a smile, but it’s not. There’s not enough play in her cheeks. She forgets to engage her eyes.
“I will,” I reply. I use the same smile that I practiced earlier. It’s much better. When I look back to the steps, Maggie is gone, and my stomach settles.
I lurch out of the car. “Honey…” my mother says. She reaches a hand toward me but stops short, almost as if she's worried I might snap at her or bite it off. She stares at me. "Things will get better for us, you know."
I close the door. The car leaves, backfiring as my mother runs the stop sign and nearly collides with an oncoming pick-up truck. It’s okay, though. Nobody is hurt.
I am happy.
The mutters follow me to my first-period English class. The voices are hushed, but loud enough that I can hear them. It’s intentional. It’s by design.
“... walks like a goof.”
“... saw him staring at Maggie’s ass.”
“... smells like a dead animal.”
“... we’ll get him after school.”
I listen to Mr. Yu discuss the significance of metaphor in literature. He spends the hour comparing Animal Farm to Twilight, and demanding why we waste our time reading the latter. He says it’s dumbing us down. He says it’s a problem. I’ve never read Twilight, but I smile and nod all the same.
He asks me to define the word ‘metaphor,’ and I do my best, but I get the answer wrong. Somebody laughs. Why wasn’t I listening earlier, I wonder. What’s wrong with me?
“... what a dumbass.”
I am happy.
At lunch, I get a table to myself. It’s good because it means I have personal space to come up with ten different metaphors for Mr. Yu.
The cafeteria is loud. Too loud. I try to focus on my paper and pen, and I scratch down my favorite metaphor to get started: It’s raining cats and dogs. I look at it and smile. It makes me think of my sister before the horror took her.
I wonder if it will take my mother too.
The other examples don’t come easily for me. My eyes scan the definition of 'metaphor' over and over, but my mind draws a blank. I can’t think. I can’t focus. I wonder where Maggie is sitting today.
A folded piece of paper lands on the table in front of me. I look up to see where it came from– to see who dropped it, but I can’t tell. There are too many people moving around, too many faces swimming, and too many voices drowning my concentration.
I unfold it.
There’s something written on the inside, hastily-scribbled and messy. It says, “YOUR DEAD,” in pencil-gray. A stickman is lying beneath the words, surrounded by three other stickmen. They’re stepping on him. Kicking him. Red pen strokes paint the page haphazardly, trailing from the crying man on the ground. I look closer. The other stickmen are smiling. They’re happy.
Something pulls at the edge of my thoughts. I ignore it.
The bell rings, and school is over. I gather my things and pull my backpack up and over my shoulder. It’s heavy and awkward. It takes me three tries to get it right.
Today is a big day.
I make my way from the school grounds, over the hill that leads to the forest path that runs along the little creek. I make my way home. My arms are tired by the time I get over the hill, but that’s okay. It just means I’m getting stronger. All the work I’ve been doing in the forest is going to pay off.
Voices follow me. I recognize some of them.
“... pervert is gonna get what’s coming to him.”
"... believe it when I see it."
"... heard Maggie moaning about wanting what's inside of him."
"... fuck you."
The forest is full of people. There are joggers and people walking dogs. A homeless man asks me if I have any change, and I say that I’m sorry, but I don’t. He tries to spit on me but misses.
“... a liar. Gimps like you make bank off disability checks.”
My arms get sore by the time I’m halfway through the forest. I take the same shortcut I usually do, the one that runs by the creek, and there are fewer joggers and dog-walkers. I get nervous, but the babbling sound of the water helps me relax. Today is a big day.
“... I’ll kill him. Watch me.”
“... yeah, right. He’ll be fucking Maggie before you ever get the balls to.”
“... we’ve only been dating two weeks. I’ll fuck her.”
“... not before him.”
Footsteps approach from behind. It sounds like three people and one more in the distance. I don’t see them, but I know them. I know their smiles. I know they’re happy.
A fist connects with the back of my head, and I fall forward, losing control of my crutches. My face smashes against the pavement and my vision swims as pain explodes across my cheek. I taste something in my mouth. Blood. I try to push myself up but my legs aren't cooperating. They're hardly moving. They're useless.
“Crippled fuck!” a voice shouts. It’s Adam Wallace. He's working himself up. “You thought I'd let you get away with staring holes into my girlfriend’s ass?"
I try to say something, but a foot steps on my backpack, and I’m pressed to the ground. The wind’s knocked out of me. I can’t breathe. Shoes connect with my face, one after the other. There’s laughter in the air. A sneaker finds my nose and there’s a crunching sound, and suddenly I can’t stop screaming as warm fluid spills down my face, cascading over my lips. I sputter and whimper. My eyes well up.
“... somebody will see us.”
Hands grab my limp legs. I’m being dragged backward, off of the cement path, and deeper into the forest. I call out, and somebody stuffs a ball of cloth into my mouth. It reeks. It tastes like sweat and filth.
“... bet you wish that was Maggie’s panties, you perverted shitstain.”
I close my eyes. I try to smile. I am happy. I am happy. Tears slip down my cheeks, and something tugs at the edge of my thoughts. I ignore it. I have to.
It takes ten minutes to get to where we’re going. The skin on my elbows is split and torn, caught on too many rocks and roots. They let my limp legs drop with a dull thud. I’m hyperventilating. It’s hard to breathe with the jockstrap in my mouth and a broken nose. There’s death in the air.
I’m rolled onto my back, and I feel my backpack shift against my spine. It’s uncomfortable, but not half as uncomfortable as Adam Wallace wrapping his hands around my neck and strangling me.
“... he’s actually doing it.”
“... I thought he was just fucking around.”
The trees above me fade with the air in my lungs. I gasp and sputter, but there’s no air to breathe and I’m not strong enough to pry his hands from my throat. He leans in close, his lips pressed to my ear. “You think I'm gonna let you cuck me?” he asks, and his voice is dipped in cyanide. “I warned you to stay the hell away from her.”
“... taking too long.”
“... use this.”
I hear the sound of a switchblade opening. The hands around my neck let go, and I take in a lungful of air. My heart hammers in my chest. I try to move, instinctively, and crawl away, but somebody grabs me by my backpack and drags me back.
“... there’s something in there.”
“... open it.”
Four arms wrestle the backpack off of me, and I groan in agony as somebody presses my broken nose into the dirt. I protest but it’s muffled by soil. Nobody hears it. Nobody cares. I hear my knapsack’s zipper being undone, and my pain is washed away and replaced with terror. My body seizes. I forget to breathe.
The moment lasts a lifetime. I know their words before they ever speak them.
What the fuck?
I hear the sound of a backpack hitting the forest floor, and things spilling out of it. I hear gagging. Retching. I hear footsteps stumbling backward. Soon, their shock will be replaced with anger. Rage. Something tears at my mind. It’s crashing against it. Demanding it’s time in the light and roaring at me to stop being such a coward and do something about this. I slam my eyes shut. I can’t. I won’t.
I am happy.
“... filled with dead animals.”
“... he’s a fucking psychopath!”
Hands grip the front of my t-shirt and pull me up from the ground. They’re shouting about the dead squirrel and the dead rat and the dead bird in my bag. A fist connects with my face. Blood hits the ground. Another fist. More blood.
“... what kinda freak collects dead animals?”
“... I'm gonna hurl.”
I open my mouth, and I don’t care anymore. The words come out like a broken dam. It feels good. It feels overdue. “Offerings,” I sputter. “They’re offerings.”
“... he’s lost it.”
“... offerings for what?”
I smile, and my teeth are slick with my own blood. “Offerings to cure me.”
Adam Wallace raises the switchblade, pressing the cold steel against my throat. I close my eyes. Something riots inside of me, throbbing against my skull. I push it back. Death is in the air. Rough hands grip my hair, and I wince as they lurch my head roughly to the side. Adam’s voice is beside me. It's up against my ear. “Offerings, huh? You think you’re some kinda fuckin’ witch, Hermione Granger?”
“No,” I say.
Something shifts in the trees behind Adam and his friends, and a figure steps out from the brush. I recognize them. They've been following us since we left the school.
Suhky recognizes them too. He tries to step in front of Adam and me, to block us from view. Words fall out of his mouth. He's giving them an explanation, maybe. A reason things aren't as bad they seem. He's interrupted by a horrible, wet-sounding jab. Then another. There’s a series of four slick rips, like a pen tearing through paper, or a knife cutting into skin. A gasp.
“... Jesus, Maggie!”
Adam clambers off of me.
“... what’s wrong with you?”
“... she fucking killed him, Adam!"
Suhky falls to the ground. I close my eyes. I am happy. Warm piss soaks the dirt beneath me, and my limbs tremor with anxiety. I am happy.
There’s the sound of panicked feet, but it’s going in the wrong direction. It’s running away from me. The person’s muttering and whimpering, and I think it sounds like Adam Wallace but I can’t be sure.
Somebody else is struggling now. Two voices dance together on my left, just past my vision. A boy and a girl. It's David Cho and Maggie. They’re grunting a symphony of dying breaths. I hear dirt shift and leaves crack beneath stirring footsteps, and the smack of limbs grasping limbs.
There’s another wet jab, and a body drops. David asks, why? Another slick rip. The knife's tearing into him over and over, and he keeps asking why. Why are you doing this? Why me, Maggie? I hear his skin split twice more, and the questions stop.
A girl steps into view, standing above me. Her hair is a wild red, and her face is speckled crimson, just like the knife in her hand. She reaches down, and I think she might help me up, but instead, she starts placing the dead animals back into my bag, one by one.
“You forgot the rabbit,” she says, and her voice is colder than winter. Her eyes appraise me but they're missing something. They're empty. “That demon will kill you, you know. Just like it killed your sister, and just like it'll kill your mother, too. You’re running out of time."
"I know," I say.
“Then give it to me.”
"I'm trying to."
She pouts her lips. Folds her arms. A doll hangs from her neck, and it's dressed in pins and needles and it looks like me. "I told you three offerings, didn't I?" She looks around. "I count two and a bag of roadkill."
Adam.
I have to roll over so I don’t choke on the blood spilling into my throat from my broken nose. “I can’t,” I cough. “I can’t catch him on crutches.”
“Then don’t,” she says with a sneer.
Something tugs at my mind. I close my eyes. I clench my fists. I want to scream and lose control, but I can’t because if that happens, then I’m not happy anymore. People I love will die. They always do. “Can’t you get him?”
“He’s too fast. Besides, the spell is specific. The final offering dies by your hand, or the demon can’t change hosts. Your nightmare doesn't end." Her mouth splits into a wide smile. "You don't have to kill him alone, though."
I stare at her, and I don’t have any words to fight back. She kneels next to me and runs a hand through my tangle of hair, gripping it painfully. She’s smiling, but she’s not. There’s not enough play in her cheeks. She forgets to engage her eyes.
"... now or never."
"... I can't."
"... sure you can."
I whimper as the knife plunges into me, again and again. There’s a ripping sound, followed by another, and another. I clench my eyes. I ball my fists. I am happy. I am happy.
The knife sinks into me once more, and this time Maggie fishes it around my stomach. It twists, and I scream. I thrash and roar. Something escapes. It pulls itself over my bones, wraps itself around my mind, and extinguishes my thoughts before whispering madness into my ears.
I am not happy.
And neither is it.

Arrogance of Victory

Ardan Gervasius was a whirlwind of motion, his sword flashing and steel singing as he danced around his fellow Battle Brothers. One Sword Brother versus five Neophytes, already fresh and eager to prove their worth. Templars gathered and cheered as the five tried them damnedest to defeat Ardan. The sound of steel, cheers, and other noises rang out in the Training Cages of the flagship Eternal Crusader.
Soon, the cheers turned to laughter and boos, as Ardan began to fell each of his brothers one by one. As the last Neophyte was brought to his knees, the match was set. Ardan chuckled loudly in triumph, arrogance spewing from his lips, “oh come on now! I hardly broke a sweat!” Grumbling, the neophytes helped each other up to their feet and begin to leave, not wanting to hear Ardan’s boisterous and cocky attitude. Each brother that sparred began to remove the binding chain-links to their armor, then placing the sparring blades back in the hands of menials and servitor servants. Ardan, however, still felt eager as he stretched his body to make himself limber, “I should have Sword Brother Deimos and his squad to try. I need a better challenge.” Ardan’s skill was only surpassed by his pride. Brothers nickname him “Arrogant Ardan.” Whilst they respected his skill with the blade, which some even compared him to First High Marshal Sigismund, Ardan’s attitude was very much less than desired and unwelcomed by his peers. Once such a vocal critic made his presence known.
“For Throne’s sake, quit acting like a damned iterator and shouting your victories. You can at least be humble.” Ardan turned to seek the noise, only to see Castellan Brocas approach the arena. A smile draped across the swordsman’s face, as scathing words shot from his tongue, “you are just mad that I knocked you flat on your ass, Brother Brocas.” Ardan stepped forward equally at Brocas, his arms out in a challenging demeanor, before bumping his chest into each other. The impact of the ceramite clanged loudly as the two stared at each other with threatening intentions. Brocas’s hands curled into fists, and Ardan was ready to provoke his Battle Brother into combat again.
“Brocas is right, you know,” said a gravely cold pang of a vox-caster, as if the sound broke the tension betwixt the two, “even Sigismund himself cared not for boasting and showing off.” Ardan and Brocas turned their heads, greeted by the sight of a skull plated helm, a red tabard draped over the blackest black armor, and across that was two inscribed pieces of parchment of purity. The two warriors stepped back from the other then glancing back to shoot looks of disdain to each other. Ardan then turned to face the man, smiling welcomely “Reclusiarch Grimaldus. It is an honor for you to join us.” Grimaldus said nothing, his helm hiding his face to not show any emotion. Ardan then spoke again, “I was just showing Brocas that his skills need improving in order to defeat me.”
Grimaldus continued his silence, yet Brocas had a feeling that the Reclusiarch’s anger was emanating, as if anger manifested in an aura. That was soon broken by a crackling chuckle over his vox that echoed clearly. “Perhaps I should try my hand at you, Ardan.” It was a surprise indeed. Ardan could not help but find amusement. Grimaldus was indeed legendary amongst the Templars, but he was older. Ardan was even surprised Grimaldus even stood, even after crossing the Rubicon Primaris like High Marshal Helbrecht. This is no contest, he thought, I still have more youthful vigor. “Very well, Reclusiarch, I acc- “
A fist contacted Ardan’s chin, sending him backwards meters away and landing on the ground in a painful thud and clanging of ceramite and steel. Ardan felt pain in his jaw. Looking up, he saw Grimaldus slowly reel his fist back to his side. “Looks like I have won,” said Grimaldus. , Ardan quickly stood up, his pained voice filled with anger like a child throwing a tantrum. “Reclusiarch?! This is not proper combat!”
“Is it not? Yet, I brought you to heel.”
“That’s not the point!” exclaimed Ardan, “we were to have a friendly spar!” Grimaldus then shrugged, “we did, though. And I still won.” Ardan tried to find words, but the pain in his jaw and his pride made his mind clouded. Brocas stood there, eyes widened to what he witnessed. Grimaldus then spoke his turn, “there is no such thing as proper combat. While it is true we hold honor and tradition, War cares not for such a thing.” Ardan growled in retort, “but we are not at war.” Grimaldus then gave Ardan another quick jab, knocking him back down. Ardan could tell that punch was harder than the first. Grimaldus then showed his emotion through his vox, and it was like a parent scolding a spoiled child, “not at war? We are Templars! We are on an eternal crusade! Even as I speak, our rest and relaxation are but a mere illusion to the fact that we are beset on all sides with various foes that seek our death!”
Ardan then went silent. He was too stubborn to admit defeat. “Forgive me, Reclusiarch. You are correct in the notion of our eternal crusade against the Heretic, the Mutant, and the Xeno. But we are Astartes, the same sons of Dorn, and proud devotees to the God-Emperor. Our battles are mere sparrings.” Grimaldus wanted to strike him again. Yet, he did not. Ardan was not worth the effort. He had more important duties. “Maybe some prayer would open whatever clouds your ignorance.”
Earnhart looked upon the visage of Saint Drusus, the death mask of the Living Saint. In life, Drusus fought during the Angevin Crusades, fought alongside mortals, angels, and mechanical Gods of War. He fought off enemies not only on the battlefield but from those he used to call comrades. Now, Earnhart was about to embark from the dusty and salty flats of Maccabeus Quintus, her home and world, to serve as both a pilgrim and a conqueror of the stars. Such an honor indeed, for this may be the last time she would see home again. She looked up to the Statue of Saint Drusus, admiring the heroic figure. She then looked down at the tomb, placing her hand on the Sarcophagus of the Saint. Even in death, Drusus serves the God-Emperor’s will.
"In all things do we take the example of Saint Drusus, who the God-Emperor saw fit to return from death to continue service in His name,” she chanted, kneeling before the sarcophagus, “We endure hardships, as Drusus did. We show no mercy, as Drusus did. We drive back the darkness beyond His realm, as Drusus did." Earnhart then took the silvery death mask of her Saint, forever covering her face, forever to never show a soul her own. “I pledge my service to thee, God Emperor of Mankind. Do with me as You please for my faith is absolute. I will serve thee with all my honor body and soul and prove myself worthy in your name as did Saint Drusus, till the day my reckoning comes.”
She stood at her feet, giving one last look at the tomb. She wanted to engrave every detail of her home, for she may never return. Such is the way of the Janissaries. Such was the will of the Imperium. Though, everything changed when the sirens went off…
Various Templar Astartes and humans knelt at the Shrine in formations, their heads bowed in prayer and ritualistic chanting. A Judicar wearing the ceremonial robes of the chaplaincy and his mouth sealed by cloth, walked along the rows gently swinging lit incense in the censer adorned with Templar iconography on brass and gold. Grimaldus walked alongside the faithful, speaking in reverence, just as any spiritual leader must to his flock. Ardan was deep in prayer, activating his Catalepsean Node to help focus. He was still angered by the Reclusiarch’s dishonor in the training cages. His body soon became lucid, his mind stimulating itself with a hypnotic jerk to try and keep him awake, but to no avail. Soon, Ardan fell into a trance, and then, blackness… Suddenly, a small light was seen in his vision. The light grew. It was embers of fire, and it grew larger and larger, until it became a roaring Inferno. He saw it. It was a battle. On one side, he seen a warrior clad in artificer armor that bore the color of darkened steel. In hand, bound to the figure, was a long, black blade, as if it were made of ebony or even obsidian. Beside the warrior was Astartes and the sight of soldiers clad in masks with a single tear under the right eye, whose faith and fury were equal to that of a Black Templar. On the other side, it was darkness. However, this darkness was unnatural. Evil. And that Darkness smiled and cackled across its scarred face.
Ardan gasped back into focus, his heart beating as if awakening from a nightmare. Was it a dream? No, he thought. It was too real. Grimaldus stopped, noticing Ardan’s heavy breathing. “Something troubles you, brother,” said the Reclusiarch in cold and analytical tones, yet his voice still showing hints of concern through his vox. Ardan took a moment to compose himself, standing upright. “Forgive me, Reclusiarch. But I saw something. A world in flame. A warrior challenging the darkness.” Grimaldus stood silently, thinking this was a ruse, before speaking clearly, “tell me, brother Ardan. What else can you describe in this dream?”
“It was a world in flames. A Shrine World. I saw Astartes and humans clad in masks that bore the same visage. All facing something evil and unnatural, as if it was sadism manifest.” That was all that Ardan saw and remembered. Grimaldus then turned away, thinking to himself within brief moments, until only a mumble escaped his vox, “follow.” Ardan was unsure what this meant, but to find answers, he must follow the Reclusiarch. The two exited the sanctuary, Grimaldus leading Ardan through the narrow halls of the Eternal Crusader, his pace at a speed that even Ardan was trying to match with in urgency, until reaching the Sanctum of the High Marshal. Helbrecht, sitting on his throne whilst the tech priest of the Mechanicus operated on his bionic limb, saw Grimaldus and Ardan approach. “Forgive me,” said the harsh, hoarse vocal cords of Helbrecht, “I was not expecting to have your companies, Reclusiarch and Sword Brother.” Grimaldus then motioned for Ardan to step forward, his silence giving a clear indication for Ardan to speak of what he witnessed in his vision.
Helbrecht’s battle worn face turned to a scowl as Ardan finished speaking of the vision, which prompted the High Marshal to stand from his throne. Shipmaster Heaslet approached the throne from the side of the Sanctum, only to respectfully kneel. “My lord. I come bearing a message for aid from the shrine world of Maccabeus Quintus,” Shipmaster Heaslet said in timidity, fearing his words may offend the Angels of the Emperor, “The Great Enemy has begun an attack on the planet. False Angels in a pastel of colors, bearing our Imperium’s Aquilla in such perverse manners!” Helbrecht looked upon the Shipmaster, his face flushing with building rage and his vein visibly throbbing from his forehead, as if it were to burst. “Emperor’s Children… A vomitous mockery of our brilliant God-Emperor’s divinity.” Helbrecht brought his bionic fist down in anger, shattering the stone carved throne’s arm rest as if it were fragile glass, “And they even dare strike at a Shrine World. Are they trying to goad us?”
Grimaldus could only chuckle at such a thought, “still, High Marshal. You must give commendation to these heretics for their brazen attack. Even if it is foolish and doomed to fail.” He then turned to face Ardan, “it seems that what you saw was true. Then this means the God-Emperor has granted you a vision of the future.” Grimaldus rested his armored hand onto Ardan’s shoulder, his voice surprisingly sincere and not the usual anger that Ardan often would be berated by, “you may be the catalyst for his crusade to drive back the darkness.” Grimaldus then returned to face back at the High Marshal, “I would like a requisition of all nearby Chaplains to convene briefly to determine if Ardan shall become the God-Emperor’s Sword.” Helbrecht nodded to Grimaldus, then motioned the Shipmaster to relay the call to the Astropath.
Ardan stood only in a loincloth, his genetically modified flesh and scars from past battles and triumphs laid bare for the gathered Chaplains to witness. The Chaplaincy deliberated over such a vision, curious if Ardan was even worthy of such a title. One of the Chaplains, with his name Harmon, spoke in favor. “It is clear he saw the future of battle. Every Champion we select in any crusade always has a common vision of battles past and what is to come. It is a vision granted by the God-Emperor!” There were detractors. One of which was by the name of Whisen, whose angered tone was made clear over the vox, “Ardan is a braggard. And to be clear, we have no proof the God-Emperor blessed him. For all we may know, he may have unlocked detestable Psyker abilities!”

“Then how did he know of Maccabeus Quintus being under siege?”
“He never stated so!”
The deafening chorus of voices over the vox echoed through the chamber, until a loud slam of metal rang out. The chaplains turn to see Grimaldus, whose crozius left a dent in the reinforced railing of his position. “Be that as it may, Maccabeus Quintus, an important Shrine World, where they breed the most loyal guardsmen regiments AND is blessed rest of the Imperial Saint Drusus is burning.” Mag-locking his crozius to his hip, Grimaldus then stood up, slowly walking down the steps down to the center, his voice clear for all to hear him, “true, Ardan’s character is unsatisfactory, but he saw battle. He saw himself fighting with brothers and the Guard.” Soon, the Reclusiarch stood beside Ardan, as if his statement were already what others decided, “his destiny awaits him in the battles to come. He has the skill of Sigismund, and more so, the stubborn tenacity of our genefather. He shall adorn the Blackest Armor and wield the Black Blade. He will lead his brothers.” The chaplains in dissent roared out, taking this decision as an insult to the honor of the Black Templars. Still, the decision was Grimaldus’s and his alone.
Janissary Earnhart rushed through the lines with her guard regiment, rushing through the volley of bullets and explosives. Every step, she chanted prayers for the God-Emperor as if they would shield her from the dangers of War. The Planetary Defense Force needed all able-bodied guardsmen to protect key strategically valuable points of interest. “O mighty God-Emperor, whose golden light pierces the darkness of the galaxy, we beseech thee in this hour of need,” she prayed, her breath heavy from running a long distance in gunfire and shrapnel, “As our valiant warrior charges into battle, grant thee your divine protection. May thy blade strike true, and thy armor hold firm against the enemy’s onslaught. Bless thy heart with unwavering courage and may thee be a beacon of hope for all who fight alongside you. In your name, we pray. Ave Imperator!” She then ducked into cover, as traitors opened fire from a nearby makeshift gun nest.
Earnhart and her regiment kept low, the bullets from the heavy stubber machine gun kicking up the dirt and salt of the earth in the trenches. They had to distract the nest somehow, Earnhart thought to herself, seeking any advantage from their disadvantageous position. The rattling belt-fire of the heavy stubber echoed through the ruined monasteries and buildings with the heretical traitors singing praise to the cacophony of destruction. However, whether it was a miracle or luck, the stubber ceased its fire, and the traitors growled in frustration. The weapon was malfunctioning, and Earnhart motioned her Janissaries to advance. Sounding a sonorous war cry for the God-Emperor, the Janissaries began their charge to advance. The traitors had to resort to smaller arms, but it was too late. They were overwhelmed in a matter of seconds, their blood staining the marbled stone. Janissary Earnhart then radioed to the Planetary Defense Force, “we secured the Courtyard. Send additional reinforcements so we can- “
Her message was cut off when a piercing wail unlike anything she ever heard boomed. If not for the padding in her helmet muffling some of the sound, it was likely Earnhart would have gone deaf. She turned to the source of the noise, and it struck her in terror when she saw the sight of Astartes, clad with pink or purple armor plating, with black and golden trim. The Emperor’s Aquilla either perverted or the heretical symbology was marked on their armor, and with a mocking snicker, one of them shouted, “Children of the Emperor! Death to his foes!” The squad presented their unusual weaponry with a malformed screaming face at the end of its barrel, and with a rippling force, shot sonic waves. Janissaries too close were evaporated into red mists, viscera, and other bits of gore and bone, as if they spontaneously exploded. Those farther were either brought to their knees in agony or were forced back. Janissary Earnhart tried to shout for retreat, but the effort was pointless from the booming shockwaves. Soon, the Emperor’s Children squad begin their advance, either slaying any Janissary or Defense Force in their way or releasing sanity shattering noises from their damnable instruments.
But from the sky, burning light crashed onto the stone walkways, shaking the ground as if a meteorite struck. The traitor Astartes and the remaining Janissaries turned to the sight, only to see the black metal of a drop pod, and the iconic white Templar cross. The drop pod doors burst open, and Intercessors and Sword Brethren, led by a warrior in simple yet advanced artificial armor, charged out to meet the traitors head on. Bolter fire, chainblades, sonic booms, and clashing of metal and ceramite sang out as the two rivalling factions fought with ferocity. Then, another drop pod lands, only to open to the sight of a hulking war machine of metal. “No Pity! No Remorse! No Fear!” it roared from its mechanical voxcaster, charging out with gatling fire and promethium flames. The surviving Janissaries cheered, feeling inspired to fight through their pain and joining the fight with lasrifles and explosives. The Noise Marines were no match for the overwhelming force, slain in mere minutes that the Sergeant sounded a retreat.
As the battle died down, and the small fraction of the traitor Astartes in full retreat, Janissary Earnhart slowly approached the leading Astartes of the squad, forming the sign of the Aquilla in her hands. “Bless the God-Emperor, you saved us. We are not worthy to be in the presence of his Angels.” But what escaped from the Astartes’s vox was boastful laughter, “of course you are not. Do you think mere guardsmen could face an Astartes, let alone heretics? I will commend you, though, for trying.” While her face could not be read due to her mask, Earnhart was taken aback by this flamboyant boasting. “m-may I ask your name, Angel?” With pride, the Astartes champion announced, “I am Brother Ardan Gervasius, the Emperor’s Champion. You may address me as Lord Ardan, guardsman.”
“R-right,” stuttered Earnhart, shocked to see such… arrogance? Sure, he slain many of the traitors, she thought, but the least the Astartes could be more… she had no words that would dare match to combat such flamboyant ego. At least, not at this moment. “My Lord, the great enemy blindsided us out of nowhere. The initial strike brought half of the Planetary Defense systems inoperable.” Ardan was unamused, wondering how many of these traitors he could slay on his own. Brocas then stepped forward, as if to meet the surviving Janissaries, “it is good you held out until we arrived. Your actions are deeply commendable.” Earnhart smiled from under her mask. This was how an Angel was personified in her mind. Firm, yet fair. Brocas then broke her admiration and asked, “do we know as to why the heretics dare defile this sacred ground?” This was a question that had no clear answer, but speculation. Earnhart theorized it was to cripple the morale of the Janissaries. Brocas, who had fought the Emperor’s Children before in distant worlds, would believe her theory. This is because those that fall to the chaotic addictions of Slaanesh are trying to seek the stimulations they crave, like addicts to the chemicals they inject into their system for the thrills and pleasures. And what better way to seek the ultimate thrill than the defilement of a Shrine World housing one of the Saints that fought with the Black Templars long before Ardan or Brocas were born.
“Guardsman, is the Shrine of Saint Drusus still guarded?” Brocas inquired. While it was certain that there would be some defense, these mortals were versing the Warp-twisted versions of warriors. Suddenly, one of the battle brothers over the communication two clicks from the squad’s position shouted, “we are being routed! We need reinforcements in Sector Zeta-Two-Six!” Ardan, relishing the opportunity of combat, ordered his squad and surviving Janissaries to move out.
Zeta-Two-Six was a sector close to the Shrine of Drusus, and where the traitors came out in heavy force. Heretic Cultists and traitor guard rolled forward with their heavy armor detachments they looted from the Planetary Defense Force. The roars of Leman Russ pattern tanks and even a Rogal Dorn pattern tank rolled forward, unleashing volley of bullets from its machine guns to the occasional firing of the cannons. The Templar Intercessor Squad and a Squad of Eradicators tried to find a way to flank, but they were pinned down. The traitor Astartes forces reveled with each slain Templar. “Sigismund’s hounds fall rather quickly,” echoed the malformed mouth of one of the leading Champion of the Emperor’s Children, “such sweet cacophony. The smell of gunpowder and blood… my sensory receptors ache for more.”
“It is always a sweet melody to hear the death throes of the weak, Skaalek,” cackled another Child of the Emperor. His armor was unlike the twisted and depraved etchings on the common legionary. As if the armor was alive and pulsed, with faces that scream in agony, this warrior had a slit, morbid smile with scars that practically overtaken his facial features. He smiled, his sharp teeth like polished ivory, and a relic silvery sword of Xeno craft wielded in his dominant hand. Skaalek regarded the Champion, “ahh, Lucius. So grand of you to come to the revelry.” The Champion looked outward to the struggling Black Templars, watching as the foolish worshippers of the Corpse Emperor tried to hold ground against overwhelming odds. But then, out of nowhere, one of the Leman Russ tanks that the traitor guard staffed exploded, releasing a mushroom cloud of fire, smoke, and shrapnel. The surviving traitors that were caught in the blast screamed in agony, or reveled in the pain as either their blood from wounds painted the white marbled stone on the ground or be engulfed in decay. Lucius tilted his head and grinned at the sight.
Ardan and his squad flanked the traitors from behind, with the Janissary kill team led by Earnhart took back or destroyed any heavy armored vehicle. This allowed the Intercessor and Eradicator Squads to push back, unleashing bolter fire and melta charges. Ardan gracefully danced through the traitors like a twister of slashing metal, cutting down any heretic that dared approach or fled. Lucius was intrigued. Aroused even. While he did enjoy the challenge from one of Sigismund’s heirs, this young Champion Astartes reminded Lucius of the time he trained in the ways of the blade. Reminiscing of his days on Chemos to the days of the Great Crusade fighting with or against worthy warriors, Lucius almost shed a tear from his eye. This warrior was like him. And Lucius wanted to revel in this warrior’s lamentations of defeat. “Do not kill that one. I want him,” Lucius growled with a needing hunger for battle, “that Champion of the Corpse Emperor is mine.” Lucius turned, walking away from the battle. Skaalek nodded to the Champion of Slaanesh, giving a silent approval to follow orders. The legionary then ordered, “brothers. Fall back. And let our Lord Commander have his fun.”
The Emperor’s Children fell back as ordered, deciding that their fun had ended. Ardan then ordered Brocas to take the Intercessor Squads and Dreadnought to give chase. It seemed as if these heretics were finally understanding the might of the Imperium, thought Ardan. Taking a cloth from his pouch, he raised the Black Blade and wiped it clean of blood. How such a weapon of exquisite craftsmanship be used to slay those that are truly not worthy disgusted Ardan. Janissary Earnhart tended to her duties with the surviving kill team, executing cultists and traitor guard whilst praying for their souls to redeem themselves in the light of the God-Emperor. One of her teammates questioned this, wondering why she would waste breath and prayer for these damned souls. She replied softly, “because they are just lost. The path for them was dark. All I am doing is giving them the lantern to traverse said darkness.” This brought some weird comfort for her, as if she wanted to give these souls one last chance to return to the God-Emperor.
As she proceeded to execute the last of the heretics, Earnhart received a message from her helmet’s communicator. “All Janissaries! The defenses of our saint have been compromised! Rally there now!” The communicator ended with the scream of the guard and then static. Her heart sunk and her caring prayer stopped. She quickly approached Ardan, her voice cracking in both anger and fear. “My lord. The Shrine of Drusus is being attacked! We must go there now!” Ardan looked at the guardsman briefly, only to give a slight nod. He ordered the remaining squad mates to form up and follow the Janissaries to the Shrine.
By the time the group had made it, the Shrine was littered with the corpses of Janissaries. In the middle of the piled dead stood Lucius, his armor, sword, and whiplike tendrils in his left hand painted with blood and other viscera. Earnhart trembled at the sight. This heretic… no, daemon. Such brazen heresy! Her anger rose, her thoughts clouded as her blood boiled at this macabre display of sadism. Ardan ordered his brothers to engage, charging the Champion. Lucius let out a yawn, before slicing through Ardan’s battle brothers. The gurgling death throes of Ardan’s squad echoed through the Shrine’s basilica. Ardan, however, froze in place. This warrior is unlike anything he had truly faced, he thought to himself. Lucius looked at the Champion, his smile like a mockery to Ardan’s eyes. “Not even worth it, to be honest. These so called ‘Primaris.’ Though, death is such a beautiful song.” Lucius slowly walked to Ardan, to which the Astartes raised the Black Blade in a defensive stance. The sadistic warrior stopped, raising his alien blade in a more offensive posture. “You, Champion of the Corpse God. I want to know. What is your name?” There was a brief silence, but Ardan broke it by granting Lucius the answer, “I am Ardan. Ardan Gervasius. And I will be your death, heretic.”
“Such bravado. I like it,” snickered Lucius, sizing up Ardan’s stance and posture, to discern a needed counter to break it. “We are alike, you and I,” said Lucius, which Ardan took as an insult, “do not compare us, filth! I am nothing like you in the slightest.”
“Oh, but you are wrong,” said Lucius, “we are the same. We are both masters of the blade, dedicating our existence to the dance and grace of such things. Judging from your stance alone, I can tell you are in the stance of an old Terran duelist by the name of Rocco Bonetti.”
Ardan was surprised that this heretic knew of his stance, “so, you, too, know of the greatest duelists. Interesting. With you, I can determine a modified version of Capo Ferro.” With this exchange, Ardan had believed he may have found a worthy and veritable challenge. A true test of his skills. “Although I shouldn’t inquire,” said Ardan, “I would love to know of the enemy I will slay.” Lucius then gave a slight curtsey, “Lucius the Eternal. Champion of the God of Excess. I hope you provide me much more of a challenge than these… well, I want to call them lesser, but that word is giving them too much praise.” Earnhart could not bear to see such respect that these two were showing. Raising her lasrifle, she wanted to open fire. Ardan threatened, “you dare interrupt my battle, I will execute you myself.” Earnhart wanted to risk defying Ardan. To avenge her fallen Janissaries. To cleanse the Shrine of Drusus of this chaotic taint. But her mind fought against her emotions, and she finally lowered her lasrifle. This was a battle between Angels and Daemons. She would only get in the way.

Matthew 26:26-35~"And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat; this is my body. And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye all of it. For this is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins. But I say unto you, I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom. And when they had sung an hymn, they went out into the mount of Olives. Then saith Jesus unto them, All ye shall be offended because of me this night: for it is written, I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall be scattered abroad. But after I am risen again, I will go before you into Galilee. Peter answered and said unto him, Though all men shall be offended because of thee, yet will I never be offended. Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, That this night, before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice. Peter said unto him, Though I should die with thee, yet will I not deny thee. Likewise also said all the disciples."
These verses describe the appointment of the ordinance of the Lord's Supper. Our Lord knew well the things that were before Him, and graciously chose the last quiet evening that he could have before his crucifixion, as an occasion for bestowing a parting gift on his church. How precious must this ordinance have afterwards appeared to His disciples, when they remembered the events of that night. How mournful is the thought, that no ordinance has led to such fierce controversy, and been so grievously misunderstood, as the ordinance of the Lord's Supper. It ought to have united the church, but our sins have made it a cause of division. The thing which should have been for our welfare, has been too often made an occasion of falling.
The first thing that demands our notice in these verses, is the right meaning of our Lord's words, "this is my body, this is my blood."
It is needless to say, that this question has divided the visible church of Christ. It has caused volumes of controversial theology to be written. But we must not shrink from having decided opinions upon it, because theologians have disputed and differed. Unsoundness on this point has given rise to many deplorable superstitions.
The plain meaning of our Lord's words appears to be this — "This bread represents my body. This wine represents my blood." He did not mean that the bread He gave to His disciples was really and literally His body. He did not mean that the wine He gave to His disciples was really and literally His blood. Let us lay firm hold on this interpretation. It may be supported by several grave reasons.
The conduct of the disciples at the Lord's Supper forbids us to believe that the bread they received was Christ's body, and the wine they received was Christ's blood. They were all Jews, taught from their infancy to believe that it was sinful to eat flesh with the blood. (Deut. 12:23-25.) Yet there is nothing in the narrative to show that they were startled by our Lord's words. They evidently perceived no change in the bread and wine.
Our own senses at the present day forbid us to believe that there is any change in the bread and wine in the Lord's Supper. Our own taste tells us that they are really and literally what they appear to be. Things above our reason the Bible requires us to believe. But we are never bid to believe that which contradicts our senses.
The true doctrine about our Lord's human nature forbids us to believe that the bread in the Lord's Supper can be His body, or the wine His blood. The natural body of Christ cannot be at one time in more places than one. If our Lord's body could sit at table, and at the same time be eaten by the disciples, it is perfectly clear that it was not a human body like our own. But this we must never allow for one moment. It is the glory of Christianity that our Redeemer is perfect man as well as perfect God.
Finally, the genius of the language in which our Lord spoke at the Lord's Supper, makes it entirely unnecessary to interpret His words literally. The Bible is full of expressions of a similar kind, to which no one thinks of giving any but a figurative meaning. Our Lord speaks of Himself as the "door" and the "vine," and we know that he is using emblems and figures, when He so speaks. There is therefore no inconsistency in supposing that He used figurative language when He appointed the Lord's Supper; and we have the more right to say so, when we remember the grave objections which stand in the way of a literal view of His words.
Let us lay up these things in our minds, and not forget them. In a day of abounding heresy, it is good to be well armed. Ignorant and confused views of the meaning of Scripture language, are one great cause of religious error.
The second thing which demands our notice in these verses, is the purpose and object for which the Lord's Supper was appointed.
This is a subject again on which great darkness prevails. The ordinance of the Lord's Supper has been regarded as something mysterious and past understanding. Immense harm has been done to Christianity by the vague and high-flown language in which many writers have indulged in treating of the sacrament. There is certainly nothing to warrant such language in the account of its original institution. The more simple our views of its purpose, the more Scriptural they are likely to be.
The Lord's Supper is not a sacrifice. There is no oblation in it — no offering up of anything but our prayers, praises, and thanksgivings. From the day that Jesus died there needed no more offering for sin. By one offering He perfected forever those who are sanctified. (Heb. 10:14.) Priests, altars, and sacrifices, all ceased to be necessary, when the Lamb of God offered up Himself. Their office came to an end. Their work was done.
The Lord's Supper has no power to automatically confer benefit on those who come to it, if they do not come to it with faith. The mere formal act of eating the bread and drinking the wine is utterly unprofitable, unless it is done with a right heart. It is eminently an ordinance for the living soul, not for the dead — for the converted, not for the unconverted.
The Lord's Supper was ordained for a continual remembrance of the sacrifice of Christ's death, until He comes again. The benefits it confers, are spiritual, not physical. Its effects must be looked for in our inward man. It was intended to remind us, by the visible, tangible emblems of bread and wine, that the offering of Christ's body and blood for us on the cross, is the only atonement for sin, and the life of a believer's soul. It was meant to help our poor weak faith to closer fellowship with our crucified Savior, and to assist us in spiritually feeding on Christ's body and blood. It is an ordinance for redeemed sinners, and not for unfallen angels. By receiving it we publicly declare our sense of guilt, and need of a Savior — our trust in Jesus, and our love to Him — our desire to live upon Him, and our hope to live with Him. Using it in this spirit, we shall find our repentance deepened, our faith increased, our hope brightened, and our love enlarged — our besetting sins weakened, and our graces strengthened. It will draw us nearer to Christ.
Let us bear these things in mind. They need to be remembered in these latter days. There is nothing in our religion which we are so ready to pervert and misunderstand as those parts which approach our senses. Whatever we can touch with our hand, and see with our eyes, we are apt to exalt into an idol, or to expect good from it as a mere charm. Let us especially beware of this tendency in the matter of the Lord's Supper. Above all, "let us take heed," in the words of the Homily, "lest of the memory it be made a sacrifice."
The last thing which deserves a brief notice in this passage, is the character of the first communicants. It is a point full of comfort and instruction.
The little company to which the bread and wine were first administered by our Lord, was composed of the apostles, whom He had chosen to accompany Him during His earthly ministry. They were poor and unlearned men, who loved Christ, but were weak alike in faith and knowledge. They knew but little of the full meaning of their Master's sayings and doings. They knew but little of the frailty of their own hearts. They thought they were ready to die with Jesus, and yet that very night they all forsook Him and fled. All this our Lord knew perfectly well. The state of their hearts was not hidden from Him. And yet He did not keep back from them the Lord's Supper.
There is something very instructive in this circumstance — It shows us plainly that we must not make great knowledge, and great strength of grace, an indispensable qualification for communicants. A man may know but little, and be no better than a child in spiritual strength, but he is not on that account to be excluded from the Lord's table. Does he really feel his sins? Does he really love Christ? Does he really desire to serve Him? If this be so, we ought to encourage and receive him. Doubtless we must do all we can to exclude unworthy communicants. No graceless person ought to come to the Lord's Supper. But we must take heed that we do not reject those whom Christ has not rejected. There is no wisdom in being more strict than our Lord and His apostles.
Let us leave the passage with serious self-inquiry as to our own conduct with respect to the Lord's Supper. Do we turn away from it, when it is administered? If so, how can we justify our conduct? It will not do to say it is not a necessary ordinance. To say so is to pour contempt on Christ Himself, and declare that we do not obey Him. It will not do to say that we feel unworthy to come to the Lord's table. To say so is to declare that we are unfit to die, and unprepared to meet God. These are solemn considerations. All non-communicants should ponder them well.
Are we in the habit of coming to the Lord's table? If so, in what frame of mind do we come? Do we draw near intelligently, humbly, and with faith? Do we understand what we are doing? Do we really feel our sinfulness and need of Christ? Do we really desire to live a Christian life, as well as profess the Christian faith? Happy is that soul who can give a satisfactory answer to these questions. Let him go forward, and persevere.

So disclaimer I’m not ex christian but my family is christian and this stems from religion so i thought it would be prudent to post this here.
So when I went to visit my mom’s side of the family I found out my uncle has a baby. We were suitably congratulating him and wishing him well bla bla bla. He’s married by the way, so i didn’t think anything was wrong.
Fast forward, we get back home and my mom tells me that the baby isn’t his wife’s. So i was shocked and a little disappointed that he cheated on his wife. Whatever. Then my mom follows it up by saying that the mom is 14 years old. A FUCKING MINOR. And this old ass 40 smth year old man got her pregnant. I was disgusted. So I was like why isn’t he in jail.
My mom got mad at me for suggesting a PEDOPHILE should be in prison. She was like he is family so what can we do but love him. I don’t fucking love him. I hate pedophiles. I was genuinely distraught that everyone was celebrating this birth and pretending like nothing is wrong. Apparently the girl’s parents reported him but the police did nothing in my backward ass useless fucking country. And everyone in my family is acting like it’s normal.
So I was vocal about how disgusting he is and then my mom got mad AT ME and said “she’s not gonna tell me anything anymore because i don’t know how to handle information without getting emotional”. I had to wonder if i’m living in the twilight zone. Then she basically said i’m chronically online and real life doesn’t work like the movies. And the devil lead him astray bla bla bla. And i’m so horrified and confused.
And it’s so sad because if conversely my uncle was gay everyone would ostracize him and call him a pervert and leaving him out of family things. So apparently being a pedophile is okay, but being gay is worse than that.

Author note: The Cryopod to Hell is a Reddit-exclusive story with over three years of editing and refining. As of this post, the total rewrite is 2,166,000+ words long! For more information, check out the link below:
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(Previous Part)
(Part 001)
An hour after the conclusion of the Great Debate, Jason and Phoebe sneak back to their room to finally enjoy some private time together.
For Phoebe, a little over three weeks have passed since her husband went to Chrona.
But for Jason, he has not seen his beautiful wife in a substantially longer period of time...
The two lovers kiss one another. They allow their hands and legs to roam as they twine their bodies, each one making their partner feel waves of pleasure and ecstasy. Having felt a little pent-up from weeks of hard work and lonely nights in bed, Phoebe is quite excited to be back together with her husband, but after thirty minutes together, even she finds her passion doesn't come close to what Jason can muster!
"Okay! Okay, let's... let's pause for a moment!" Phoebe gasps, pulling herself away from Jason as she flops onto her back. "Gods, you're like an animal today, love. If you keep chewing on them like that, I'm afraid you're going to bite them off!"
Jason licks his lips and grins cheekily. "Sorry, babe. It's just been- you know? It's been years for me. Years! Me and Fiona kept our distance, and the whole time I couldn't stop thinking about when I'd get to come back and see you. In the last few months, it REALLY gave me the drive to finish solving my time dilation problem!"
Phoebe remains silent for a few seconds. She swallows gulps of air while massaging her breasts, wincing slightly as she touches the naughty teeth marks Jason left...
"I won't lie, I was a little worried that you and Fiona might... but I knew you were faithful. I just wish you'd go a little easier on me! Don't you think Timothy is going to need these when he arrives?"
"Hah! I can heal them later." Jason smirks, before pouncing on her and pressing his lips against hers. "But for now, you and me need to make up for lost time!"
"Ah! This- ahh! Alright, then!" Phoebe exclaims, before her moans drown out any other words.
...
Another two hours pass.
Jason uses Words of Power several times, easily restoring himself and Phoebe's stamina multiple times. They twist like pretzels, trying out all manner of different lewd positions, before finally they both decide they've had their fill.
Eventually, they conclude their unbelievably intense rounds of lovemaking, then they snuggle together, finally satisfied.
"Lord... marrying a Wordsmith is a life goal every woman should aspire to." Phoebe mutters to herself, as Jason wraps himself around her from behind. "I love you so much, Jason."
"I love you too, honey." Jason replies, nibbling on her ear playfully. "And it's because I love you that I did what I did today. I hope you're not mad at me."
Phoebe chuckles. "I just wish you'd given me a heads up. I thought the entire point of the debate was to focus on keeping humanity united. Why would you change your mind all of a sudden?"
"Well... it wasn't really 'all of a sudden' for me. After all, an hour for the debate was 250 hours for me. That's almost ten and a half days, honey. I talked to Fiona, Rebecca, Kar, even Blinker and the Psions throughout the whole affair. My... views started evolving as a result."
Phoebe simply shrugs, not caring one way or the other. "I always thought splitting up humanity was smarter anyway, so I'm glad you came around."
"Thanks for supporting my original idea, even if it was dumb. That's why you're the best wife." Jason says, kissing her neck.
A minute passes as the two lay there, falling silent. Eventually, Phoebe rolls around to face Jason, then wraps her arms around his back and pulls her face close to his.
"So. What now?" She asks quietly. "You had an entire week to ruminate on your new plan. Any thoughts you want to share?"
Jason lightly bumps his forehead against hers. "I came up with a magically empowered device capable of synchronizing the internal dilations of people in higher realms so they can travel back to lower realms. It will almost entirely mitigate the effects of time dilation at any ratio below 25-to-1, but it's less effective the higher one climbs. In any case, that means I can look into expanding the usage of alternate dimensions, especially those inside the Cube. We can rapidly grow humanity's population, and its power, by using this method."
"That sounds incredible." Phoebe says, though her tone betrays a lack of enthusiasm. "But... are you sure there won't be any after-effects? And what about you? If this device you made is less effective at higher dilations, then you shouldn't be okay... right?"
"I... I do have to return to Chrona within a few days." Jason admits. "The technical details aren't too important, but essentially, with Blinker's help, I created a device that can output consumable magic glyphs. These glyphs bind to the body and prevent it from destabilizing when traveling into different time dilation zones. Unfortunately, their magic wears out faster the more extreme of a dilation one travels to and from."
"So your glyph or whatever, it's only going to last you a few days?" Phoebe asks, her pupils suddenly trembling in fright. "Isn't that terrible?? Will you die if you don't return in time?!"
"I will die, yes, but it won't be immediate." Jason explains, only to see a look of alarm spark in her eyes. He hurriedly clarifies: "No no, it's not what you think! When the glyph wears off, my body will start to desynchronize with realspace. As long as I quickly return to Chrona, I'll only end up a little fatigued, but if I drag my feet, then I could suffer... irreparable damage."
"Jason!" Phoebe cries. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?! Now I'm only going to be thinking of the danger you're putting yourself in just to come back here and deal with a bunch of mundane nonsense!"
"It's not nonsense." Jason says firmly. "I solved the dilemma with Neil and Hope, and I got to come back home and bang my hot wife. That's a win in my book any day of the week."
"Oh, you!" Phoebe laughs, releasing some tension in spite of her nerves. "You always try to hit me with a cute line. But don't think I'm letting you stay here long! You need to get your butt back to Chrona ASAP or I won't be able to sleep at night."
"Hehe, you won't be able to sleep anyway." Jason says, grinning evilly. "I'm gonna be bending you into every conceivable shape each night until I return!"
"You perverted, naughty scoundrel!"
...................................
Later, as the night draws near, Jason finally exits his abode with some pep in his step. He steps out into the darkness and looks up at the starry sky with a look of deep satisfaction.
Somehow, it just feels to him like things are going to be alright.
Hardly has that thought occurred when a voice speaks from the side. "All done having fun?"
Jason jumps in surprise. He turns to see Hope Hiro glowering at him as he leans back against a tree outside Bahamut's former manor.
"The hell?" Jason asks. "Have you been waiting for me out here?"
"I set a proximity alarm to alert me when you left. Then I teleported here." Hope answers. "Now, shut the fuck up about nonsense. I want to know what you're playing at. Why did you change your mind?"
Jason turns to face Hope directly. He crosses his arms and assumes an aloof posture.
"You're telling me you can't figure it out? I listened to what you and Neil had to say. I listened to what our fellow humans had to say. I decided the unification plan was a non-starter, and adjusted accordingly."
He leans forward slightly. "You're welcome, by the way. Now you can go build your death cult or whatever, Neil can fuck off to his planet of xenophobes, and I can focus on building humanity up, proper."
"That's what I hate the most about you." Hope snaps back. "You've messed up a thousand times, but you always have this smug, self-assured air of superiority about you. You were handed the powers of a god on a platter, but all you ever do is screw up and waste your gifts."
"I've definitely failed a few times." Jason admits. "But you're blowing those instances way out of proportion. I already feel bad enough about my failures. I already beat myself up over Daisy's death. Do you have to act like such a piece of shit toward me? We're both still cut from the same cloth, Hope!"
Slightly taken aback, Hope pauses his verbal barrage. A look of guilt flashes over his face, and he forces himself to calm down.
Five seconds of silence follow.
"I'm sorry." Hope says quietly. "You're right. I went too far. If it was my daughter, I'd probably never stop torturing myself."
He looks away and chews his lower lip.
"I just don't get it, Jason. Why change your mind?"
"You've never really understood the way I think." Jason answers. "Which is weird. Of all the people in the universe, I should be the one you understand best. And yet sometimes your thoughts are as alien to me as mine are to you. We've diverged into entirely different people."
He continues. "It's like I said at the Debate. You and Neil have the right idea, but the wrong reasons. Humanity does need to split up. We're vulnerable to a single attack, like Neil said. I just think splitting from the demons because of mere bigotry is not the right reason to do so. In this coming new era of empowered humans, it may become evident that demons are humanity's greatest ally."
Hope shuffles his feet. "I don't agree with Neil on everything. We're not a uni-mind. I think he goes too far with his hatred of the demons. Especially, as Phoebe mentioned, since he didn't really lose anyone to the demons. He lost them to Bahamut. In that regard, his hatred of demons is almost nonsensical."
But..." Hope says, directing a withering gaze toward Jason, "just because he hasn't suffered to the demons doesn't mean humanity as a whole hasn't. Come on, Jason. Surely you can acknowledge the harms they've caused us."
"Of course I can." Jason says. "But I'm not about to rehash this debate with you. Let's just let bygones be bygones and move on. We both have the same goal, Hope. We want to see humanity prosper."
"I'd like to think so." Hope responds. "But you still haven't answered my question. What are your plans for the humans who side with you? People are going to be casting their votes soon. Are you really going to allow demons to mingle with humans, unchecked, in perpetuity?"
"Unchecked is... an interesting word choice." Jason says calmly. "Hope, you know how I feel about politics. I say we treat our different factions as experiments. We need to see which one will lead to the most prosperous future. Maybe a xenophobic civilization will make humanity stronger, but maybe an open-minded one will be better still."
"Hmm..."
Hope rumbles in his throat, then looks at the ground, falling into thought.
"That's... not the worst idea."
"Right?" Jason says, before continuing, "I can't pretend to be any sort of expert on what to do next, Hope, but even you can see there's a lot of future paths opening up now that the Human Flaw is gone. I truly pray at least one of our splinter civilizations can explode in population and power. Humanity is practically extinct in terms of galactic population."
For a moment, Hope remains silent.
"I should also mention, Jason. It seems you haven't permanently solved your time dilation issue."
Jason frowns. "I haven't. You?"
"I seem to be a bit luckier than you." Hope replies. "My acceleration is only 100-to-1. Based on the quantum particles you're emanating, it seems you've been playing a riskier game."
Jason evenly gazes at his clone. "250-to-1."
"That's what I thought. Take this as a bit of friendly advice," Hope says, "I have a few prominent Technopaths inside my funhouse. They've told me that higher and higher TDR's pose orders of magnitude more danger to biological bodies. You're putting everyone inside your hidden dimension in danger. Don't play around with their lives."
"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." Jason replies.
"You'd better." Hope counters. "Kar and Blinker are my friends too, Jason. If your stupidity causes them harm, I'll come for your head."
The two men continue to look at one another for a few seconds, then Hope turns to the side.
"Return."
He vanishes from the spot, disappearing into the ether while leaving his original body behind.
Jason remains standing in place for a while, his former good mood now entirely gone. A faint sense of unease wells up in his chest.
"I've improved a lot." Jason says to himself. "But Hope has, too. I'll need to work harder to stay ahead of him..."
Jason turns and walks away, heading deeper into town.
...................................
Later, Jason sits down inside the Horned Maître while Kelkin's moonlight radiates down upon its mother planet, illuminating the nighttime even more than Luna once did for Earth.
As the moonlight spills in through a window, the First Wordsmith sits at the head of a table with a handful of his friends.
Emperors Belial and Kiari sit next to each other, with Kiari's fiance Saul positioned on her right and Belial on her left. Across the table, Brunhilda sits, as well as Benjamin Brown and Samuel Baker.
"Congratulations, Kiari, Saul." Benjamin Brown says. "I've never heard of a demoness becoming pregnant before. We're about to enter some interesting times."
"Thank you!" Kiari says, her cheeks flushing happily as she beams at her fiance. "I can't believe it! I was so scared at first because I thought I was poisoned, but then it turns out it was just morning sickness! Now me and Saul are going to have a baby and... I don't know what to expect!"
"I couldn't be happier." Saul says mildly, smiling back at Kiari. He turns to look at Jason. "She's not in any danger though, is she? Can demons properly give birth...?"
"I can't say entirely for certain." Jason answers. "We did run some tests. The corrected human genome is... extremely potent. It can allow organisms incapable of replication to become capable. There are probably other effects, but we just don't know yet. I left the technical details to Fiona and Rebecca."
A moment of silence follows.
"This is going to change everything, you know." Belial says to Jason. "Fixing the Flaw, I mean. A horde of unexpected pregnancies is hardly the most shocking aftermath. What about humans gaining magic en-masse? Doesn't that strike you as dangerous?"
Samuel frowns. "Hey. What is your implication? That humans can't control ourselves? You demons have had magic for a hundred thousand years, but now it's a problem if your lessers get access too?"
"That's not what I meant." Belial hurriedly explains. "I'm just saying- Neil's side wants to kill all the demons. Now the humans will have the tools to do so. Don't you think this is only going to lead to more violence in the long run?"
"Honestly? I can't stand you demons." Samuel snarls, his words causing Belial and Kiari to both flinch in unison. "Demons have killed countless people I loved. This war might not be personal for Commander Neil, but it's personal for me."
"W-why are you even here, then?" Belial asks, outraged by his provocation. "We met to congratulate Kiari on the baby!"
"I came because I needed to speak to Jason. Not because I give a damn about some bloodskins." Samuel snaps back. He quickly turns his head to look at Jason. "Here, take this."
Samuel reaches into his pocket, pulls out a glowing purple pentagon infused with magical energy, then tosses it to Jason. The Wordsmith reflexively snaps his hand up to catch the palm-sized object, only to look at Samuel in confusion as the man stands up and starts to walk away.
"It's from Princess Melia." Samuel says, throwing his hand in the air flippantly. "She said you'd know what to do with it. I'm outta here."
The man storms off, leaving the others behind more than a little confused.
All except for Benjamin Brown. He sips some beer and chuckles. "If I told you that son of a bitch had a chip on his shoulder, I'd be lying by omission."
"Way more than a chip. More like a whole mountain." Brunhilda grumbles. "Kiari, I want you to know that the Felorians do not consider the demons to be our blood-enemies. I am certainly happy the Wind Mother has graced you with the gift of a child. And I apologize for that fool's undeserved anger."
"There's no need to apologize." Kiari says bitterly, lowering her eyes. "I'm used to it."
Jason's gaze momentarily turns dismal. Sensing the awkward atmosphere, he stands up and lifts the magical pentagon Samuel gave him. "Well. I've gotta be going. Phoebe will drop by to offer her congratulations tomorrow, Kiari. She's pretty tired after the debate and had to turn in early."
"I understand." Kiari says, smiling cutely at the Wordsmith. "Thank you so much for stepping in at the end. I was worried Neil was going to hurt Phoebe's feelings or say something really mean. Too bad I missed the broadcast, on account of this random baby dumped in my lap."
"I'm sure you'll be able to catch a re-run." Jason says, pointing to a monitor in the corner of the bar, which silently plays back the speech with closed captions. "I'll talk to you guys tomorrow."
...
He makes his way outside, and eventually wanders over to a secluded area where he erects a privacy field around himself, scanning it to make sure no errant Psions are watching.
Then, Jason lifts up the purple pentagon and looks at it more closely.
"Identify." He says.
Hundreds of intricate runes glisten with magical power across the item's surface. Jason's Word of Power identifies it as a Fairy Transmission Crystal, something Blinker has mentioned to him in passing, though admittedly he wouldn't have recognized it without his magic's assistance.
When Jason looks at the item deeper, he becomes fascinated by the incredibly tiny and precise carvings etched into the crystal's surface. Not mere abstract runes, many of them faintly depict strange beasts and creatures the Wordsmith has never seen in his life. It's only when he really squints that he's even able to make out the face of a woman he's never seen before.
"Melia? No, not her. Someone older. Hmm, now how did Blinker say to activate one of these...?"
Jason infuses his mana into the Transmission Crystal, but it doesn't activate. He tries doing what Blinker told him to do, but for some reason, he just can't seem to make it work.
"Fuck it." Jason mutters under his breath. "Activate."
Immediately, the crystal's faint glow turns as bright as a lightbulb. It leaps out of his palm and levitates into the air, while a magical hologram materializes from the core and bubbles into reality.
A beautiful but noticeably elderly fairy woman springs into existence, her lightly baggy eyes giving her the air of an ancient woman who has seen more than most can comprehend. Her beautiful white hair complements her purple dress, making it obvious to anyone with eyeballs that she is no commoner among her people. She looks around the privacy bubble and nods to herself, as if confirming something.
Then she directs her gaze toward Jason.
"Good day to you, First Wordsmith. I am the Fairy Matriarch, Lady Calanthra. I am pleased to see that you took the proper precautions before activating my crystal."
Jason blinks in surprise. He squints his eyes, then suddenly realizes something. "Wait, this isn't a recording?"
"Indeed, it is not." Calanthra says simply. "I prefer not to leave my world unless absolutely necessary, so I send my daughters out to deliver these crystals when I need to speak to someone distant."
A twinkle sparks in her eyes. She smiles playfully. "Funnily, I tampered with this crystal. I made it non-functional as a test. Only a Fairy Queen should be able to fix the flaws I introduced, yet you also seem to be capable of doing so. That is good. It tells me your magical capabilities are just as impressive as my children claim."
Jason coughs, feeling a little embarrassed that he passed her test without meaning to. "I see! Uh, so, what did you want to talk to me about?"
"I watched that debate between your wife and the commander of humanity's armies. I found your statement at the end to be quite interesting. You said that humanity could go to the world of Pixiv to join my people..."
Jason blinks. "I... I'm sorry. I spoke to Blinker before the debate, and she told me it was worth putting on the table. I guess I should have asked you first."
"There is no need for apologies." Calanthra says, waving her hand dismissively. "As the former Monster Queen, a bearer of the Sphinx's cursed magic, she possesses authority equal to mine. In matters of Pixiv's prosperity, I come before her, but for any external matters, she ranks above me. That is what my people decided when we heard her husband had passed his power to her."
Calanthra waves her hand, conjuring a comfortable and luxurious chair to sit in. She plops down in it and sighs. "Ahh, these weary old bones hate to stay standing for long periods..."
Jason looks behind himself. "Chair."
He also takes a seat, making Calanthra nod with approval. "A Word of Power, is it? What an ability. Impressive, if I may be so bold in my choice of words."
"Not to be rude," Jason says, "and compliments are always nice, but can we get to the point? Is there a reason you wanted to speak to me?"
"Yes, many." Calanthra responds. "But before I tell you why I've come, I have a question for the First Wordsmith."
"Okay." Jason says uncertainly. "And that would be...?"
"What do you know about the fairies?" She asks.
"About your people? In general?" Jason asks. "Uhh. I've spoken to Blinker a bunch. I know, uh... fairies are magical. You have wings. You can shrink and grow. You live on Pixiv. You... have a hard time reproducing. You have almost no male fairies among your population..."
He pauses while scrunching up his forehead to think. "You're also good at formations... I don't know a lot, now that I think about it."
"That is to be expected." Calanthra says. "After all, my people are reclusive by nature. We don't like to draw attention to ourselves. Not good for long-term survival prospects."
"Huh? You don't??" Jason asks, appearing totally confused. "But fairies have to, you know, procreate with the males of other species. You get around if you know what I mean. Doesn't really allow you to be 'reclusive'."
"Just because our daughters need to frolic with the males of other species, that does not mean we allow them to flap their lips at will." Calanthra answers. "There are rules we set. Strict rules. There are certain... Truths... we do not wish to get out into the greater galactic community."
"Truths." Jason repeats, eyeing her with more suspicion than before. "I've been hearing that word a lot, lately."
"I'd imagine you are. As Akasha's Game reaches its boiling point, the Rulers of the cosmos are beginning to disseminate those Truths in preparation for the Unending War."
Calanthra's eyes take on a more ominous glint as she gazes at the Wordsmith, not as a pretty and demure queen of the Fairies, but a strangely ancient being, one who has seen things he cannot fathom.
"Tell me, Jason Hiro of the Human species. How old are your people? How far back does your history date?"
"Not far enough." Jason admits. "I think before the Energy Wars, the most ancient records were barely 50,000 years old."
"Fifty thousand Sol Cycles." Calanthra says. "And what of the demons?"
"They're older than us..." Jason says. "I'm not sure how much older though."
"Add another hundred thousand years." Calanthra says. "That is when Archangel Uzziel formed the first Imps from cosmic dust. But what about before the demons, I wonder? Are there any species older than them?"
Jason nods slowly. "Well yeah. The angels were the first Sentients in the Milky Way, then they made the Dragons, then came the Titans."
"And what about the Volgrim?" Calanthra asks. "Do you know when they came on the scene?"
"I... not really." Jason admits. "A million years ago?"
"Ten million." Calanthra replies. "That is when the first Volgrim evolved from the primitives of their world and rose up to become the rulers of Old Volgarius."
For a long moment, Jason looks at Calanthra. A strange thought bubbles up in his mind.
"So... how old are the fairies, then?" Jason asks slowly. "Since the Volgrim were the first Sentients to colonize the galaxy after the angels fell, you must have evolved after they did. Right...?"
Calanthra's smile turns ominous.
"That was the right question to ask, Wordsmith."
She leans forward.
"The Volgrim were not the first Sentients in the Milky Way. It was my people. The Fairies. And we arrived here..."
"...fifty million years ago!"
Next Part

An hour after the conclusion of the Great Debate, Jason and Phoebe sneak back to their room to finally enjoy some private time together.
For Phoebe, a little over three weeks have passed since her husband went to Chrona.
But for Jason, he has not seen his beautiful wife in a substantially longer period of time...
The two lovers kiss one another. They allow their hands and legs to roam as they twine their bodies, each one making their partner feel waves of pleasure and ecstasy. Having felt a little pent-up from weeks of hard work and lonely nights in bed, Phoebe is quite excited to be back together with her husband, but after thirty minutes together, even she finds her passion doesn't come close to what Jason can muster!
"Okay! Okay, let's... let's pause for a moment!" Phoebe gasps, pulling herself away from Jason as she flops onto her back. "Gods, you're like an animal today, love. If you keep chewing on them like that, I'm afraid you're going to bite them off!"
Jason licks his lips and grins cheekily. "Sorry, babe. It's just been- you know? It's been years for me. Years! Me and Fiona kept our distance, and the whole time I couldn't stop thinking about when I'd get to come back and see you. In the last few months, it REALLY gave me the drive to finish solving my time dilation problem!"
Phoebe remains silent for a few seconds. She swallows gulps of air while massaging her breasts, wincing slightly as she touches the naughty teeth marks Jason left...
"I won't lie, I was a little worried that you and Fiona might... but I knew you were faithful. I just wish you'd go a little easier on me! Don't you think Timothy is going to need these when he arrives?"
"Hah! I can heal them later." Jason smirks, before pouncing on her and pressing his lips against hers. "But for now, you and me need to make up for lost time!"
"Ah! This- ahh! Alright, then!" Phoebe exclaims, before her moans drown out any other words.
...
Another two hours pass.
Jason uses Words of Power several times, easily restoring himself and Phoebe's stamina multiple times. They twist like pretzels, trying out all manner of different lewd positions, before finally they both decide they've had their fill.
Eventually, they conclude their unbelievably intense rounds of lovemaking, then they snuggle together, finally satisfied.
"Lord... marrying a Wordsmith is a life goal every woman should aspire to." Phoebe mutters to herself, as Jason wraps himself around her from behind. "I love you so much, Jason."
"I love you too, honey." Jason replies, nibbling on her ear playfully. "And it's because I love you that I did what I did today. I hope you're not mad at me."
Phoebe chuckles. "I just wish you'd given me a heads up. I thought the entire point of the debate was to focus on keeping humanity united. Why would you change your mind all of a sudden?"
"Well... it wasn't really 'all of a sudden' for me. After all, an hour for the debate was 250 hours for me. That's almost ten and a half days, honey. I talked to Fiona, Rebecca, Kar, even Blinker and the Psions throughout the whole affair. My... views started evolving as a result."
Phoebe simply shrugs, not caring one way or the other. "I always thought splitting up humanity was smarter anyway, so I'm glad you came around."
"Thanks for supporting my original idea, even if it was dumb. That's why you're the best wife." Jason says, kissing her neck.
A minute passes as the two lay there, falling silent. Eventually, Phoebe rolls around to face Jason, then wraps her arms around his back and pulls her face close to his.
"So. What now?" She asks quietly. "You had an entire week to ruminate on your new plan. Any thoughts you want to share?"
Jason lightly bumps his forehead against hers. "I came up with a magically empowered device capable of synchronizing the internal dilations of people in higher realms so they can travel back to lower realms. It will almost entirely mitigate the effects of time dilation at any ratio below 25-to-1, but it's less effective the higher one climbs. In any case, that means I can look into expanding the usage of alternate dimensions, especially those inside the Cube. We can rapidly grow humanity's population, and its power, by using this method."
"That sounds incredible." Phoebe says, though her tone betrays a lack of enthusiasm. "But... are you sure there won't be any after-effects? And what about you? If this device you made is less effective at higher dilations, then you shouldn't be okay... right?"
"I... I do have to return to Chrona within a few days." Jason admits. "The technical details aren't too important, but essentially, with Blinker's help, I created a device that can output consumable magic glyphs. These glyphs bind to the body and prevent it from destabilizing when traveling into different time dilation zones. Unfortunately, their magic wears out faster the more extreme of a dilation one travels to and from."
"So your glyph or whatever, it's only going to last you a few days?" Phoebe asks, her pupils suddenly trembling in fright. "Isn't that terrible?? Will you die if you don't return in time?!"
"I will die, yes, but it won't be immediate." Jason explains, only to see a look of alarm spark in her eyes. He hurriedly clarifies: "No no, it's not what you think! When the glyph wears off, my body will start to desynchronize with realspace. As long as I quickly return to Chrona, I'll only end up a little fatigued, but if I drag my feet, then I could suffer... irreparable damage."
"Jason!" Phoebe cries. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?! Now I'm only going to be thinking of the danger you're putting yourself in just to come back here and deal with a bunch of mundane nonsense!"
"It's not nonsense." Jason says firmly. "I solved the dilemma with Neil and Hope, and I got to come back home and bang my hot wife. That's a win in my book any day of the week."
"Oh, you!" Phoebe laughs, releasing some tension in spite of her nerves. "You always try to hit me with a cute line. But don't think I'm letting you stay here long! You need to get your butt back to Chrona ASAP or I won't be able to sleep at night."
"Hehe, you won't be able to sleep anyway." Jason says, grinning evilly. "I'm gonna be bending you into every conceivable shape each night until I return!"
"You perverted, naughty scoundrel!"
...................................
Later, as the night draws near, Jason finally exits his abode with some pep in his step. He steps out into the darkness and looks up at the starry sky with a look of deep satisfaction.
Somehow, it just feels to him like things are going to be alright.
Hardly has that thought occurred when a voice speaks from the side. "All done having fun?"
Jason jumps in surprise. He turns to see Hope Hiro glowering at him as he leans back against a tree outside Bahamut's former manor.
"The hell?" Jason asks. "Have you been waiting for me out here?"
"I set a proximity alarm to alert me when you left. Then I teleported here." Hope answers. "Now, shut the fuck up about nonsense. I want to know what you're playing at. Why did you change your mind?"
Jason turns to face Hope directly. He crosses his arms and assumes an aloof posture.
"You're telling me you can't figure it out? I listened to what you and Neil had to say. I listened to what our fellow humans had to say. I decided the unification plan was a non-starter, and adjusted accordingly."
He leans forward slightly. "You're welcome, by the way. Now you can go build your death cult or whatever, Neil can fuck off to his planet of xenophobes, and I can focus on building humanity up, proper."
"That's what I hate the most about you." Hope snaps back. "You've messed up a thousand times, but you always have this smug, self-assured air of superiority about you. You were handed the powers of a god on a platter, but all you ever do is screw up and waste your gifts."
"I've definitely failed a few times." Jason admits. "But you're blowing those instances way out of proportion. I already feel bad enough about my failures. I already beat myself up over Daisy's death. Do you have to act like such a piece of shit toward me? We're both still cut from the same cloth, Hope!"
Slightly taken aback, Hope pauses his verbal barrage. A look of guilt flashes over his face, and he forces himself to calm down.
Five seconds of silence follow.
"I'm sorry." Hope says quietly. "You're right. I went too far. If it was my daughter, I'd probably never stop torturing myself."
He looks away and chews his lower lip.
"I just don't get it, Jason. Why change your mind?"
"You've never really understood the way I think." Jason answers. "Which is weird. Of all the people in the universe, I should be the one you understand best. And yet sometimes your thoughts are as alien to me as mine are to you. We've diverged into entirely different people."
He continues. "It's like I said at the Debate. You and Neil have the right idea, but the wrong reasons. Humanity does need to split up. We're vulnerable to a single attack, like Neil said. I just think splitting from the demons because of mere bigotry is not the right reason to do so. In this coming new era of empowered humans, it may become evident that demons are humanity's greatest ally."
Hope shuffles his feet. "I don't agree with Neil on everything. We're not a uni-mind. I think he goes too far with his hatred of the demons. Especially, as Phoebe mentioned, since he didn't really lose anyone to the demons. He lost them to Bahamut. In that regard, his hatred of demons is almost nonsensical."
But..." Hope says, directing a withering gaze toward Jason, "just because he hasn't suffered to the demons doesn't mean humanity as a whole hasn't. Come on, Jason. Surely you can acknowledge the harms they've caused us."
"Of course I can." Jason says. "But I'm not about to rehash this debate with you. Let's just let bygones be bygones and move on. We both have the same goal, Hope. We want to see humanity prosper."
"I'd like to think so." Hope responds. "But you still haven't answered my question. What are your plans for the humans who side with you? People are going to be casting their votes soon. Are you really going to allow demons to mingle with humans, unchecked, in perpetuity?"
"Unchecked is... an interesting word choice." Jason says calmly. "Hope, you know how I feel about politics. I say we treat our different factions as experiments. We need to see which one will lead to the most prosperous future. Maybe a xenophobic civilization will make humanity stronger, but maybe an open-minded one will be better still."
"Hmm..."
Hope rumbles in his throat, then looks at the ground, falling into thought.
"That's... not the worst idea."
"Right?" Jason says, before continuing, "I can't pretend to be any sort of expert on what to do next, Hope, but even you can see there's a lot of future paths opening up now that the Human Flaw is gone. I truly pray at least one of our splinter civilizations can explode in population and power. Humanity is practically extinct in terms of galactic population."
For a moment, Hope remains silent.
"I should also mention, Jason. It seems you haven't permanently solved your time dilation issue."
Jason frowns. "I haven't. You?"
"I seem to be a bit luckier than you." Hope replies. "My acceleration is only 100-to-1. Based on the quantum particles you're emanating, it seems you've been playing a riskier game."
Jason evenly gazes at his clone. "250-to-1."
"That's what I thought. Take this as a bit of friendly advice," Hope says, "I have a few prominent Technopaths inside my funhouse. They've told me that higher and higher TDR's pose orders of magnitude more danger to biological bodies. You're putting everyone inside your hidden dimension in danger. Don't play around with their lives."
"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." Jason replies.
"You'd better." Hope counters. "Kar and Blinker are my friends too, Jason. If your stupidity causes them harm, I'll come for your head."
The two men continue to look at one another for a few seconds, then Hope turns to the side.
"Return."
He vanishes from the spot, disappearing into the ether while leaving his original body behind.
Jason remains standing in place for a while, his former good mood now entirely gone. A faint sense of unease wells up in his chest.
"I've improved a lot." Jason says to himself. "But Hope has, too. I'll need to work harder to stay ahead of him..."
Jason turns and walks away, heading deeper into town.
...................................
Later, Jason sits down inside the Horned Maître while Kelkin's moonlight radiates down upon its mother planet, illuminating the nighttime even more than Luna once did for Earth.
As the moonlight spills in through a window, the First Wordsmith sits at the head of a table with a handful of his friends.
Emperors Belial and Kiari sit next to each other, with Kiari's fiance Saul positioned on her right and Belial on her left. Across the table, Brunhilda sits, as well as Benjamin Brown and Samuel Baker.
"Congratulations, Kiari, Saul." Benjamin Brown says. "I've never heard of a demoness becoming pregnant before. We're about to enter some interesting times."
"Thank you!" Kiari says, her cheeks flushing happily as she beams at her fiance. "I can't believe it! I was so scared at first because I thought I was poisoned, but then it turns out it was just morning sickness! Now me and Saul are going to have a baby and... I don't know what to expect!"
"I couldn't be happier." Saul says mildly, smiling back at Kiari. He turns to look at Jason. "She's not in any danger though, is she? Can demons properly give birth...?"
"I can't say entirely for certain." Jason answers. "We did run some tests. The corrected human genome is... extremely potent. It can allow organisms incapable of replication to become capable. There are probably other effects, but we just don't know yet. I left the technical details to Fiona and Rebecca."
A moment of silence follows.
"This is going to change everything, you know." Belial says to Jason. "Fixing the Flaw, I mean. A horde of unexpected pregnancies is hardly the most shocking aftermath. What about humans gaining magic en-masse? Doesn't that strike you as dangerous?"
Samuel frowns. "Hey. What is your implication? That humans can't control ourselves? You demons have had magic for a hundred thousand years, but now it's a problem if your lessers get access too?"
"That's not what I meant." Belial hurriedly explains. "I'm just saying- Neil's side wants to kill all the demons. Now the humans will have the tools to do so. Don't you think this is only going to lead to more violence in the long run?"
"Honestly? I can't stand you demons." Samuel snarls, his words causing Belial and Kiari to both flinch in unison. "Demons have killed countless people I loved. This war might not be personal for Commander Neil, but it's personal for me."
"W-why are you even here, then?" Belial asks, outraged by his provocation. "We met to congratulate Kiari on the baby!"
"I came because I needed to speak to Jason. Not because I give a damn about some bloodskins." Samuel snaps back. He quickly turns his head to look at Jason. "Here, take this."
Samuel reaches into his pocket, pulls out a glowing purple pentagon infused with magical energy, then tosses it to Jason. The Wordsmith reflexively snaps his hand up to catch the palm-sized object, only to look at Samuel in confusion as the man stands up and starts to walk away.
"It's from Princess Melia." Samuel says, throwing his hand in the air flippantly. "She said you'd know what to do with it. I'm outta here."
The man storms off, leaving the others behind more than a little confused.
All except for Benjamin Brown. He sips some beer and chuckles. "If I told you that son of a bitch had a chip on his shoulder, I'd be lying by omission."
"Way more than a chip. More like a whole mountain." Brunhilda grumbles. "Kiari, I want you to know that the Felorians do not consider the demons to be our blood-enemies. I am certainly happy the Wind Mother has graced you with the gift of a child. And I apologize for that fool's undeserved anger."
"There's no need to apologize." Kiari says bitterly, lowering her eyes. "I'm used to it."
Jason's gaze momentarily turns dismal. Sensing the awkward atmosphere, he stands up and lifts the magical pentagon Samuel gave him. "Well. I've gotta be going. Phoebe will drop by to offer her congratulations tomorrow, Kiari. She's pretty tired after the debate and had to turn in early."
"I understand." Kiari says, smiling cutely at the Wordsmith. "Thank you so much for stepping in at the end. I was worried Neil was going to hurt Phoebe's feelings or say something really mean. Too bad I missed the broadcast, on account of this random baby dumped in my lap."
"I'm sure you'll be able to catch a re-run." Jason says, pointing to a monitor in the corner of the bar, which silently plays back the speech with closed captions. "I'll talk to you guys tomorrow."
...
He makes his way outside, and eventually wanders over to a secluded area where he erects a privacy field around himself, scanning it to make sure no errant Psions are watching.
Then, Jason lifts up the purple pentagon and looks at it more closely.
"Identify." He says.
Hundreds of intricate runes glisten with magical power across the item's surface. Jason's Word of Power identifies it as a Fairy Transmission Crystal, something Blinker has mentioned to him in passing, though admittedly he wouldn't have recognized it without his magic's assistance.
When Jason looks at the item deeper, he becomes fascinated by the incredibly tiny and precise carvings etched into the crystal's surface. Not mere abstract runes, many of them faintly depict strange beasts and creatures the Wordsmith has never seen in his life. It's only when he really squints that he's even able to make out the face of a woman he's never seen before.
"Melia? No, not her. Someone older. Hmm, now how did Blinker say to activate one of these...?"
Jason infuses his mana into the Transmission Crystal, but it doesn't activate. He tries doing what Blinker told him to do, but for some reason, he just can't seem to make it work.
"Fuck it." Jason mutters under his breath. "Activate."
Immediately, the crystal's faint glow turns as bright as a lightbulb. It leaps out of his palm and levitates into the air, while a magical hologram materializes from the core and bubbles into reality.
A beautiful but noticeably elderly fairy woman springs into existence, her lightly baggy eyes giving her the air of an ancient woman who has seen more than most can comprehend. Her beautiful white hair complements her purple dress, making it obvious to anyone with eyeballs that she is no commoner among her people. She looks around the privacy bubble and nods to herself, as if confirming something.
Then she directs her gaze toward Jason.
"Good day to you, First Wordsmith. I am the Fairy Matriarch, Lady Calanthra. I am pleased to see that you took the proper precautions before activating my crystal."
Jason blinks in surprise. He squints his eyes, then suddenly realizes something. "Wait, this isn't a recording?"
"Indeed, it is not." Calanthra says simply. "I prefer not to leave my world unless absolutely necessary, so I send my daughters out to deliver these crystals when I need to speak to someone distant."
A twinkle sparks in her eyes. She smiles playfully. "Funnily, I tampered with this crystal. I made it non-functional as a test. Only a Fairy Queen should be able to fix the flaws I introduced, yet you also seem to be capable of doing so. That is good. It tells me your magical capabilities are just as impressive as my children claim."
Jason coughs, feeling a little embarrassed that he passed her test without meaning to. "I see! Uh, so, what did you want to talk to me about?"
"I watched that debate between your wife and the commander of humanity's armies. I found your statement at the end to be quite interesting. You said that humanity could go to the world of Pixiv to join my people..."
Jason blinks. "I... I'm sorry. I spoke to Blinker before the debate, and she told me it was worth putting on the table. I guess I should have asked you first."
"There is no need for apologies." Calanthra says, waving her hand dismissively. "As the former Monster Queen, a bearer of the Sphinx's cursed magic, she possesses authority equal to mine. In matters of Pixiv's prosperity, I come before her, but for any external matters, she ranks above me. That is what my people decided when we heard her husband had passed his power to her."
Calanthra waves her hand, conjuring a comfortable and luxurious chair to sit in. She plops down in it and sighs. "Ahh, these weary old bones hate to stay standing for long periods..."
Jason looks behind himself. "Chair."
He also takes a seat, making Calanthra nod with approval. "A Word of Power, is it? What an ability. Impressive, if I may be so bold in my choice of words."
"Not to be rude," Jason says, "and compliments are always nice, but can we get to the point? Is there a reason you wanted to speak to me?"
"Yes, many." Calanthra responds. "But before I tell you why I've come, I have a question for the First Wordsmith."
"Okay." Jason says uncertainly. "And that would be...?"
"What do you know about the fairies?" She asks.
"About your people? In general?" Jason asks. "Uhh. I've spoken to Blinker a bunch. I know, uh... fairies are magical. You have wings. You can shrink and grow. You live on Pixiv. You... have a hard time reproducing. You have almost no male fairies among your population..."
He pauses while scrunching up his forehead to think. "You're also good at formations... I don't know a lot, now that I think about it."
"That is to be expected." Calanthra says. "After all, my people are reclusive by nature. We don't like to draw attention to ourselves. Not good for long-term survival prospects."
"Huh? You don't??" Jason asks, appearing totally confused. "But fairies have to, you know, procreate with the males of other species. You get around if you know what I mean. Doesn't really allow you to be 'reclusive'."
"Just because our daughters need to frolic with the males of other species, that does not mean we allow them to flap their lips at will." Calanthra answers. "There are rules we set. Strict rules. There are certain... Truths... we do not wish to get out into the greater galactic community."
"Truths." Jason repeats, eyeing her with more suspicion than before. "I've been hearing that word a lot, lately."
"I'd imagine you are. As Akasha's Game reaches its boiling point, the Rulers of the cosmos are beginning to disseminate those Truths in preparation for the Unending War."
Calanthra's eyes take on a more ominous glint as she gazes at the Wordsmith, not as a pretty and demure queen of the Fairies, but a strangely ancient being, one who has seen things he cannot fathom.
"Tell me, Jason Hiro of the Human species. How old are your people? How far back does your history date?"
"Not far enough." Jason admits. "I think before the Energy Wars, the most ancient records were barely 50,000 years old."
"Fifty thousand Sol Cycles." Calanthra says. "And what of the demons?"
"They're older than us..." Jason says. "I'm not sure how much older though."
"Add another hundred thousand years." Calanthra says. "That is when Archangel Uzziel formed the first Imps from cosmic dust. But what about before the demons, I wonder? Are there any species older than them?"
Jason nods slowly. "Well yeah. The angels were the first Sentients in the Milky Way, then they made the Dragons, then came the Titans."
"And what about the Volgrim?" Calanthra asks. "Do you know when they came on the scene?"
"I... not really." Jason admits. "A million years ago?"
"Ten million." Calanthra replies. "That is when the first Volgrim evolved from the primitives of their world and rose up to become the rulers of Old Volgarius."
For a long moment, Jason looks at Calanthra. A strange thought bubbles up in his mind.
"So... how old are the fairies, then?" Jason asks slowly. "Since the Volgrim were the first Sentients to colonize the galaxy after the angels fell, you must have evolved after they did. Right...?"
Calanthra's smile turns ominous.
"That was the right question to ask, Wordsmith."
She leans forward.
"The Volgrim were not the first Sentients in the Milky Way. It was my people. The Fairies. And we arrived here..."
"...fifty million years ago!"

We only just met. You sought me out because we have a common need. A need that is only met when two people form a connection. A connection of the minds seeking the same truth. To get through the crisis of lost love.
Our new found insight will be our guide as we venture into our newly-defined lives in which we shall move past the grief we feel.
This grief is not only our motivation to move forward, but our reason for not wanting to leave. It keeps us in chains that hold us in a cave of darkmess, so that we shall never see the expanding light of day.
The loght shall give us inspiration where darkness cannot go. The light will envelope us in hope that we may love some day. The light is our truth, it shows us the way, the way out of this cave of eternal grief.
Let it give you strength to break free from your doubts, your fears, your triggers, amd angst. Let it guide you to live life with compassion for thos that try to do wrong upon you - for their selfish perverted ways.
There will be darkmess agaim, maybe some day. But it shall not be any time soon.
I hope you sleep peacefully. And dream of a life when you lived free from pain, feel the love you once felt, you shall be embraced by it sooner than you think. Our goals will be realized as the light guides us towards a future of love and fulfillment.
Be well, kind friend.

Aichi and Illusion are the two streamers interviewing Moon. This seems to have been a spur of the moment thing as I guess they do content around OWCS Korea. Illusion is a Crazy Raccoon fan as well. Enjoy.
Illusion: This is a personal question but do you watch my videos?
Moon: I started cause I think Heesang was watching you?
Illusion: The difficulty level is shooting up
Aichi: Way more difficult
Illusion: Feel free to just answer yes or no. If you were Coach of Falcons you could beat Crazy Raccoons?
Aichi: Yes or no?
Moon: I came expecting softies what us this I kinda want to run away. If I were to coach them it would be very interesting for sure. Regardless of win or lose it'd be fun
Illusion: Most in OWCS Korea most difficult team or player?
Moon: Has to be Falcons of course. Don't really want to single out a player though. Since forever they've been the one we thought would be our recurring rivals
Illusion: In the Dallas Major who are you most wary of?
Moon: I've said this previously but I haven't watched much of the other regions. But I would say still Falcons for sure. Unless you know Hadis team? Like if there isn't a meta suited to them.
Aichi: That's our next question. So in Europe Hadis team Space Station gaming is number 1 right now how would you fare against them in a Rush meta?
Moon: I mean even in Rush doesn't Hadi need Rein to be good to win?
Illusion Aichi: Ohhhh hahaha
Moon: Honestly in all seriousness his Winston is pretty good.
Aichi: He's playing a bunch if other stuff like Ramatra as well.
Moon: LOL why? That's a joke just now . Honestly we aren't confident in our Rush.
Aichi: Rein is pretty hard
Moon: Honestly not just Reing but any Rush is scary for us since we aren't very practiced both playing it and against it. We would really have to grit our teeth and work hard to catch up. I'll schedule 5 scrim blocks in a row.
Aichi: Jesus
Moon: They'll eat and play
Aichi: World Cup happened and people really want to know how Korea ranks in the world?
Moon: I think it's still Korea on top
Aichi: In a lot of shooting games there's the idea that as you age your mechanics gey worse do you think this applies to OW?
Moon: As a coach I've definitely seen this game is very hard to stay competitive in. There's the feeling that "these shots I used to hit for sure in the past are just missing now"
Aichi: Wow it is a hard game
Moon: Fleta even told me now that he's retired from play and become a coach "Honestly I used to be able to beat these guys but it isn't so easy anymore"
Aichi: Shu and Bernar are pretty amazing in that regard then?
Moon: Well they aren't DPS players to be honest. I feel tank and support are the ones where experience building helps you more.
Illusion: Then Lip is in chat so how would you rate him?
Moon: He's good of course.
Aichi: In the olden days are there any players that really stand out to you?
Moon: I guess it would be Jjonak. One of the guys I'd pick if I had to. He was very good. Honestly NYXLs play was just pocket Jjonak.
Aichi: That much?
Moon: Rewatch some of their vods a lot of their play is baiting people in and then they try to save Jjonak. But he brought them wins like that.
Illusion: A lot of people say viewing the esport is very difficult is there something you would suggest to look out for to understand it better?
Moon: Honestly you just need to understand what sort of game this is. Like it isn't just a shooter game. Like looking at LoL you need to know how the game works to try to understand the philosophy why they're banning what they ban. You need to understand somewhat how the comps and play works to understand why a mechanically outstanding play was very hard.
Illusion: That's true that's what we try to do.
Moon: You two are doing a great job and as a competitor of the game I appreciate you bringing more eyes to the game.
Illusion: You said before Hog meta was your least favorite meta?
Moon: That was a joke.
Illusion: So then what's your least favorite and most favorite Comps/Metas?
Moon: Least is GOATs. But the thing is overwatch became so much deeper thanks to GOATs that's when team play and layering of abilities became as refined as it seems to be today. The issue is it lasted a whole year. If it lasted 1 or 2 months it would've been one of the best in memory. It was fun to watch big huge ults explode and people run in.
Aichi: Then what's your favorite?
Moon: This is a throwback it's Winston Dva Genji Tracer Zen Lucio.
Illusion: Wow that's so old.
Moon: That's the meta I found most fun. Some people might think the Ball Tracer Sombra comp might be my favorite cause of the legacy but it was a very hard meta to develop. It was so difficult to create it and the execution barrier was way too high.
Aichi: Do you remember anything interesting from the GOATs era?
Moon: Well I went 0-7 in GOATs so it's my least favorite. Honestly we were fine in scrims but every official game it wouldn't work properly.
Illusion: Go watch Overwatch University for more. So this is going to be spicy but pick your current OWWC roster. For fun.
Moon: This doesn't sound fun for me... There isn't even a OWWC this year anyways
Aichi: Just hypothetical
Moon: I'd rather just pick the Chinese team
Aichi: Well wouldn't it be exactly the team that went last time?
Moon: Exactly
Illusion: Well let's move on then
Moon: No it's fine I'll answer it so for tank...
Aichi: Donghak
Moon: He's too young. Give him a bit longer to develop he's still feeling like a player trying to solo carry
Illusion: So given time he'll end up the GOAT?
Moon: Yes he will probably win something eventually.
Illusion: Alright then for your tank?
Moon: Probably Bernar then Junbin then Max then Smurf
Illusion: Wait too much
Moon: Then Smurf. Just for fun right?
Aichi: So there aren't many tanks right now what's the solution?
Moon: There weren't tanks in OW1 either weren't there?
Illusion: Honestly the burden of being tank is high.
Moon: You need a full re-haul. You get off work and had a hard time all day to play your favorite game log in to play tank? You must be a sick pervert to enjoy that much punishment.
Illusion: Hahaha
Moon: Honestly you just need to create clans. DPS players get flamed for doing nothing tanks get flamed for dying and not shielding just create clans and change the scoring system to clan points so people just work together with people they want to. Overwatch is just a rock paper scissor game and tank is the easiest to swap on. So just do it like this so everyone wants to play whatever to help the clan.
Moon: Honestly even I find myself wanting to flame my team. Then I realize I probably shouldn't. Like an RPG guild. This way everyone can rotate around and such. Overwatch is more fun with more people after all.
Illusion: It is.
Moon: Overwatch right now is you queue in and have both DPS Instalock Junkrat and Symmetra even I want to just throw out my computer when in that situation. So just let like-minded people create a clan to work together and progress.
Illusion: You heard it here Moon hates Junkrat
Moon: This team was devised around teamplay and then you're expected to queue with one or two people and work with strangers
Illusion: They've been working on it though
Moon: Have they?
Aichi: I think they've even showed off the UI for it.
Moon: Remember what I said in Overwatch University? Never trust Blizzard to deliver.
Illusion: I'm going to make some Falcons fans upset when I say this but I recently did a coming out as a Crazy Raccoons fan.
Moon: Go all in start speaking full Japanese as well
Aichi: Guess we got to get lessons.
Illusion: So there's a thing in my community where when I root for a team they lose. It's my jinx.
Moon: Lee Jae Gon used to always put on cologne before games. Useless things like that.
Illusion: Yeah it's silly but-
Moon: No it's okay. I've seen your stuff so I know. Don't worry if we lose or play poorly it's all on us. Feel free to test it out this upcoming Dallas Major and root for us.
Illusion: Oh for sure I can't wait. But do you know what people day about Lip? They say he always does better when the camera is off of him.
Moon: Yes I've heard this
Illusion: What do you think about it cause it does feel like every time the observer stops following Lip he gets a head shot kill
Moon: He's just camera shy
Aichi: I wanted to ask in the last Overwatch University you mentioned player playstyles and how you picked the roster because of it could you go in detail?
Moon: First off I have a way I want the game to be played. You can obviously just put together all the best players and find some success. But I find a cohesively designed unit will succeed through thick and thin. So I watch VODs do tests etc. I need my players to be very hungry for it. So last year I met with all of my players in person to talk and interview them. I start off with setting up the foundation which is tank. Tank determines how you play so always tank and then flex dps and flex support. I feel with the ideal players who can execute to how I play we can't lose.
Illusion: Wow that's confidence
Moon: For instance Shu is very aggressive and a play maker so I wanted a very selfless teamplay main support paired with him so Chorong was always my first pick.
Illusion: I've noticed Shu is very talkative on camera shots of him during games. I usually see hitscans and flex supports don't talk a lot because they focus on their mechanics a lot I even have this issue.
Moon: That's just a skill issue.
Illusion: Hahahahahahaha
Moon: In OW2 if your flex support doesn't communicate you can't win.
Aichi: So how would you order the roles in importance then?
Moon: The same. Tank>Flex Support Flex DPS > Hitscan Main Support. Tank is very important for me but healers are king in OW2. Honestly how well your tank plays doesn't make you win games at this level it's really your supports that determine that. So if your tank is bad you absolutely lose but no matter how good a tank is if their healers are bad you can't win the game.
Aichi: Absolutely I feel this so bad
Moon: So everyone just play Orisa and spin shit around. If you are about to die you just press shift and everyone will eventually move forward.
Aichi: Are you a tank main?
Moon: No I'm a DPS player. I main Tracer and Cassidy right now they're very good
Illusion: They are
Moon: But honestly this is secret solo queue tech but Sombra is so good. Just hit them with the shift and you melt. When you wanna run away just throw your translocator directly into the sky right above you as high as possible and 8/10 times they'll miss all their shots on you and you survive
Illusion: Haha really?
Aichi: So there's a big tank patch right?
Moon: Aichi you play Ball don't you? Hype for Ball is really high right now.
Aichi: I am very excited but how do you see the tank meta seem to be for you? Like Ramatra might be strong.
Moon: Honestly the West really like ram and thinks it beats the orisa comp for some reason. They're absolutely wrong but they think that. We get pretty quick patch cycles too so who knows honestly.
Aichi: Why do you think there are differences like that?
Moon: They just like to brawl. Just nonstop fighting
Illusion: Korea does love to just wait a bit and then finish it off instantly
Moon: That's why they love Ram they just like fighting even though Ramatra is terrible. Junbins actually very excited.
Aichi: Well he just won Asia
Moon: No cause Ball might be good
Illusion: ShangSeoul game?
Moon: Call it SeoulShang game. We won anyways. Give them something.
Illusion: When you reverse swept in the May Melee how did that happen?
Moon: Basically you could say all of our planned strats weren't working. The players were nervous as well. Then Fearless came up to me and said "Coach put me in I will win everything for you I swear" Honestly this was such a hard situation to put someone in like that but he was so confident. You could say that win was basically all on Fearless.
Illusion: So are there any memories you have that exceed that?
Moon: OWL s1 stage 4 when we won. It was so difficult then and we practiced so hard for it
Illusion: Honestly it used to he fun seeing like NY be the best then Boston then Shock and lots of swapping like that. How was the popularity then Aichi?
Aichi: It was crazy then
Illusion: So Fury has said he pushed back his military or something would you pick him up?
Moon: No not now. Time for it has passed. I have junbin and Max now.
Illusion: Who in the team requires the most attention (like the one you have to fuss over cause they're a mess)
Moon: Game or irl?
Illusion: Both
Moon: I guess game wise I haven't had issues
Illusion: Then as a person?
Moon: I guess Junbin?
Aichi: I heard you said he plays like his monitor is off and he isn't really paying attention. (Overwatch University)
Moon: He keeps saying when we are out eating and drinking as a team "we aren't gonna stop drinking until they close"
Illusion: Honestly I did hear that Junbin was struggling during that Korea Finals loss. I rewatched and his eyes were different. Like his eyes look bigger and more flared when he's in the zone.
Moon: I guess I'll have to duct tape hos eyes wide open.
Illusion: There was definitely a moment in OWCS Korea Suravasa where it looked like he lost all hope.
Moon: I will say the issue I find wasn't that the kids were too nervous and tense. It was the opposite. They underestimated their opponents and thought Falcons were a free win. They did that against a team you absolutely shouldn't underestimate.
Illusion: I see
Moon: Illusion you must have heard but a lot of people said during that loss that Lip was getting focused or Lip was not doing to well/out of position right?
Illusion: Yeah
Moon: That was unavoidable for Lip and not his fault. If you see their play the rest of the guys just wouldn't move forward at all. Their play screamed "Lip carry us do something" they all got scared cause their over confidence got shattered. The team let him down there not the other way.
Illusion: I see like you need the team to take space and positioning so Lip can stay at safer spots and better angles.
Moon: I love having my players be aggressive no matter what even if the enemy team has ult advantage. So if you watch the OWCS Korea Finals versus Asia you'll see how far up we played and go in to cheese out a kill before they could get ult value over us.
Illusion: I absolutely agree. I saw Aid say the same thing during his VOD review. You guys really knew who had ult and tries to get rid of them before they could get their value
Moon: I'll say this cause the meta has changed but Junbins calls were mostly about Chiyo having ult. We focused on trying to Ajax him or kill him whenever we thought he had ult.
Aichi: I see
Moon: You remember their Torbjorn comp in Korea Finals right? It didn't pop up in OWCS Asia Finals because we destroyed it without dropping a map to it in scrims. They're the team that destroyed our over confidence so I really respect them for that. We were grilling some meat and drinking and even the alcohol was bitter that night. (There's a saying in Korea that alcohol tastes sweet at the end of a hard or stressful day so this statement is to say they were so upset past that level it didn't taste good)
Illusion: Must have lived to only talk about beating Falcons right?
Moon: Absolutely I talk to Shu the most recently since the player dorm doesn't have enough rooms. So we have our own separate apartment we stay at and all we did was theorycraft to beat them.
Illusion: So was it the same for The Team Yeti loss?
Moon: No honestly Junbins eyes must've been off the way he was playing that day
Aichi: Had his monitor off again I see?
Moon: I don't know what was going on but he insisted on staging fights with only a single jump everything when he could've been safer with two. Just doing stuff he didn't have to when there were so many openings on Yeti. They got scolded a lot for it.
Illusion: So if Junbin gets it together Crazy Raccoons can't be beat?
Moon: I honestly felt that this OWCS Finals maybe that's just cause as the tank he gets focused a lot. This finals though he put in so much work. If I had to say though MAX was the best.
Illusion: Wow
Moon: He didn't get to come in that much and yet he was still this good.
Illusion: He played a very good role. Even when the team is better at Orisa with Junbin
Moon: Actually Max is better at Orisa
Illusion: So junbin is in when there's a chance for dive. Max for Offtank?
Aichi: Honestly though I find the game has gotten so hard.
Moon: It really has the days are gone when after a day of work you boot up the game and play the character you wanna play as
Illusion: So then next-
Moon: Oh I just saw a comment about it but if I have Lifeweaver in my team I throw.
Illusion: Hahaha
Aichi: Weaver was a mistake
Moon: I really just won't play the game. I'm sorry but I can't hold it. I did a bunch of scrim blocks and reviews. I wanna play a fun game or two before going to bed and I wait for my DPS queue just to get a Lifeweaver? This is just... like "time to shoot some heads with cassidy" and then I see a life weaver and I'm just gonna troll on sombra
Illusion: But I have a take where Lifeweaver and Mercy shouldn't be buffed
Aichi: I disagree
Moon: I don't really have any strong opinions on this. We get paid to compete. It's not like just cause Mercy and Lifeweaver got buffed I'm going down to Anaheim to break down Blizzards doors.
Illusion: Weaver vs Junkrat One Trick
Moon: Sigh... this might be inflammatory to say but just looking at the characters face... just...
Illusion Aichi: Hahaha
Moon: Both of them. Both.
Aichi: They deserve it
Moon: They're just so detectable. They could at least communicate in game but they don't do that either. Just go play League why Overwatch... Anyways everyone who plays Iverwatch I love you all.
Illusion: What do you think of Tracer?
Moon: Isn't it a problem down to the base kit?
Aichi: Agree
Moon: Like her design is just overpowered and always meta. Whenever something changes out first question is "is Tracer playable" Honestly if your Tracer is good she can do everything for you.
Aichi: Seriously for 5 years now she's been OP
Moon: More like since the beginning outside of Overwatch outside of GOATs. Unless Blizzard makes an absolute kill Tracer patch nothing will change.
Illusion: What if you have old Briggitte back?
Moon: They still used her with Tracer back then anyways
Aichi: This is true
Illusion: As a Crazy Raccoon fan I often hear "Lip Tracer is kinda meh or iffy" agree or disagree?
Moon: Yes.
Illusion: Really?
Moon: Yes until the OWCS Asian Finals it was but during that tournament he was the best Tracer in my opinion. Better than Heesang even. Heesang is an Echo main.
Illusion: So even if a double flex meta comes by with Tracer you won't be nervous
Moon: Of course I'm nervous still
Illusion: Opinions on Heesang Echo copied Widowmaker performance?
Moon: What the hell?
Aichi: I felt the same
Moon: Honestly I know his aims good cause sometimes in scrims you'll have a situation where Lip is on Tracer and Heesang has to swap to Sojourn
Illusion: Was the Ana planned on Hollwood when you defeat Falcons?
Moon: Yes Kong absolutely planned all the micro and macro for that map exactly as how you saw it.
Illusion: People often troll now cause of their current form, "wow how good would it be if junbin max heesang and proper were on a team together they're all so good"
Moon: No comment. But I'm thankful I'm using those 3 very well. But the way I see it in soccer there's lots of instances where star players go to a team and it just doesn't fit and then they get way better after swapping to other teams.
Illusion: So obviously the mechanical skill of all your players is really high was that something you valued very highly?
Moon: Of course. I had to at the time the dominant team was Hamster after all. I looked at that team heavily when forming Raccoons. They couldn't be a team that just gets out mechaniced
Illusion: No chatter Lip didn't throw that game in OWCS Finals. His team left him out to die.
Moon: You know Train to Busan? When they're all trying to get out but they're pushing each other into the door so they can't get out? That's basically how that game went.
Illusion: Honestly as a Crazy Raccoon fan I've had so much fun with this and feel very honored thank you Coach Moon. Final words?
Moon: Uhh I guess. Right now Overwatch is in a very precarious situation compared to a few years back right?
Aichi: Unfortunately yes.
Moon: We are trying to bounce back. So the more streamers for the game there are trying to keep this fun for everyone, I'm very grateful to all of you. I hope for the scene you guys keep doing your thing. I'll support you all.
Illusion: So this is something I really wanted to ask you and it's really random but do you like kpop idols?
Moon: Why?
Illusion: You know Le Sserafim that did the collab with Overwatch right?
Moon: Yes I do.
Illusion: Did you know they performed in the West for Coachella?
Moon: They did?
Illusion: Never mind then. It's kind of a you had to know thing but basically they got criticized a lot recently for having a really poor live performance.
Moon: Yeah I'm sorry I don't really listen to idols. I do know Min Hee Jin though
Illusion: Oh cause of the New Jeans problem
Aichi: Last thing but you will win Dallas for us all right?
Moon: We absolutely have to win of course.
Illusion: This is really the last thing but let Lip know I bought the same New Balance jacket he wore.
Moon: Oh wow isn't that expensive?
Illusion: That's just how much of a fan I am but the day I bought it was the day Falcons beat Crazy Raccoons (his jinx). I noticed he didn't have it on during the Asia Finals cause of that
Moon: It's so expensive why did you do that
Illusion: I'm a fan and I couldn't get Crazy Raccoon metch of you guys so I just bought what Lip wore. Call me a Lip simp.
Moon: I asked Lip once " is that the only jacket you own?"