Republic 7^th Fleet, Centaurus Sector, 407 light years from Earth
RSS Vercingetorix, Independence-Class Carrier, 2174 A.D.
Vice-Admiral Mei Zhou had just finished making the final changes to the fleet’s reconnaissance patrol routes with her senior staff when the comm panel on her desk chirped, displaying an incoming comm request from Admiral Thompson. She quickly thumbed the pad being offered by her aide so that he could issue the orders they were just working on and turned to the rest of her staff. “Nice job, people. Let’s get to work. Dismissed.” As the staff filed out the door, she started entering the codes needed to decrypt the incoming comm channel and looked up to make sure the room was empty. She pressed the open channel icon, and Admiral Thompson’s holo image appeared in front of her desk, ending just below his waist and making it seem as if he was actually there, sitting.
“Mei, how’s your new ship treating you?” he asked, smiling. “She is an absolute beauty, Karl. I still can’t believe that she is mine.” She responded, returning his smile. “What can I do for you, Karl?” Thompson chuckled, and his holo image leaned back as he reclined in his chair. “Straight to business; I always liked that about you, Mei. Alright, here we go. We have received intelligence reports that the Commonwealth has begun evacuating one of their last remaining coreward periphery worlds that is now dangerously close to the expanded Insectoid border. We have also received an update from our spy drones in that same region that six Hive ships and almost four hundred cruisers that were patrolling their side of that border area have disappeared. This is too much of a coincidence, and I want you to detach a combat patrol and send them there.” Thompson finished speaking, and a flashing icon popped up on her comm panel, indicating that she had just received new orders. She tapped it and quickly scanned the new orders as the admiral waited. She looked up at his holo image. “Karl, I acknowledge receipt of the new orders and will implement them. Between me and you, why are we getting involved with this? The Commonwealth has a navy, and they should be fighting to protect their space. We can’t keep coming to the rescue and defending their members; we are already spread too thin as it is.”
Thompson nodded his head in agreement. “Mei, I agree with you in principle, but there are social and political considerations involved here. The near extinction of the V’rni has caused considerable turmoil among the citizens of the Republic. They know logically that we could not have stopped such an attack like that one, but the perceived failure to protect them or prevent the attack still weighs heavily on their souls. The Commonwealth is currently attempting to evacuate the Jaleen system, and they are one of the last surviving members that voted yes before our petition to join the Commonwealth was denied. It also doesn’t help that the Jaleeni are avowed pacifists and look like bipedal Newfoundland dogs. They are technically a bear-like species, but to humans, they look like humanoid dogs, and the government is unwilling to lose the popular support it currently enjoys by allowing the Jaleeni to be exterminated. I mean, look at these guys.”
Another flashing icon popped up on her screen a moment later, and she pressed it. It turned into a hologram depicting a typical Jaleeni family of a mother and father with a litter of six pups, and she couldn’t help but smile as she looked at the photo. They were wearing their traditional rough-spun linen clothes that made them look like dogs cosplaying as monks. They looked adorable, and she felt her heart melt while staring into their deep brown eyes, which looked sad. She understood the reasoning behind it, especially after the mass extinctions that occurred in Earth’s biosphere because of World War 3.
After the war, humanity had an awakening when they surveyed their destroyed world and came to terms with the disappearance of thousands of species and the near extinction of thousands of others. What followed were three generations of desperate measures to salvage what remained and a worldwide effort at habitat restoration and de-extinction efforts utilizing a wide array of methods such as back-breeding, cloning, and genome editing. Dogs were almost driven to extinction by the war as they were uniquely susceptible to the BioChem weapons that were developed and refined by the Eastern Coalition animal testing on poor innocent canine subjects. Between the Biochem weapons, owner deaths, abandonment, and starvation, almost 90% of the domesticated canine population and entire breeds were lost by the war’s end. Cats fared much better, but they still suffered a loss of almost half of their pre-war population, and a large percentage of the survivors reverted to a feral state. The result of all of this was an almost religious reverence for the preservation of sentient animal life on human worlds and a somewhat fanatical tendency of humans to take on the mantle of guardians for sapient alien species that resembled animals to them.
“Karl, I understand; I do. I just don’t like the fact that we are operating on so many fronts. Some of our fleets and task forces are patrolling areas far enough away that I worry about them getting reinforcements on time if they are attacked, and now my fleet is being partitioned to send a combat patrol almost three hundred light-years away from our current position. After the assault on the V’rn system, half of our combat power was recalled to Republic space to prevent the same thing from happening to us, and yet we are still being tasked with properly defending Eleani and Xenxin territory with half the ships we had before. Have they lost their damn minds at HQ?” She realized she was almost yelling at the admiral, and Mei took a deep breath, recognizing that her outburst was unbecoming of a Republic naval officer. She attempted to quickly apologize to Admiral Thompson. “Karl, I’m sorry that was uncalled for-“
The admiral raised a hand to stop her, an amused expression in his eyes. “Mei, I said the exact same thing to my boss as you did almost verbatim, and not as diplomatically as you, I might add. My concerns were addressed to my satisfaction, and I think yours will be when you get to your destination. There will be a task force joining you there, and I think you will be pleased. That is all I can say for now over the comms. You will lead the combat patrol to the coordinates listed in the orders you received, and the task force joining you there will fall under your command. I have a personal favor to ask of you. Please keep an open mind when you link up with the task force. You will rendezvous with Commodore Therax, and he is instrumental in our efforts to undermine the increasingly despotic Commonwealth government. More information about him and the Nekuli were added to your orders, make sure you review it. I took a big gamble on this, and I would be grateful if you did your best to make this collaboration work. That is all for now, and I wish you and your crews good fortune and godspeed, Mei. Take care of yourself.” The admiral finished speaking, and Mei noted the personal nature of his last few words, nodding an affirmative to his request.
“Admiral, I thank you for your words, and we won’t let you down. I need to issue the orders now to get there and link up with the task force on time. I’ll send a null space comm drone to the nearest relay to confirm our arrival and integration. Vice-admiral Zhou out.” As she leaned towards the comm panel to close the channel, she saw Admiral Thompson doing the same, and he gave her a wink and a mischievous smile before she pressed the icon, terminating the connection. She leaned back in her chair and blew out a deep breath. “Now what the hell was that all about?” She asked out loud to herself, as the confusing and secretive nature of her orders and the personal request of the admiral added to the uncertainty of what she was expected to do. She keyed her wrist pad and texted her aide to come back to her office for new orders. He was going to be livid that they just wasted half a day revising the patrol routes to maximize efficiency and increase their patrol range. A small smile crossed her lips as she waited. He had an obvious tell of his lower left eyelid spasming when he was mad despite displaying no emotions on his face, and she knew it drove him nuts that he couldn’t control it. Witnessing it was one of the small joys she had in her difficult job as vice-admiral, and she was looking forward to it.
Fifty-six hours later, her task force flashed out of null space at the designated coordinates and right on time. She felt a measure of pride as she watched her bridge crew go about confirming their location and verifying it with the navigational array and astrometric sensors. Once the navigator gave her confirmation that he verified their position, she turned towards the comms officer and ordered her to send a burst transmission with the pre-arranged code and waited for the response. A few seconds later, the comms officer raised her left hand and signaled receipt and confirmation of the code by the task force waiting in null space. An agonizingly long minute crawled along as she anxiously waited for her navigator to confirm the telemetry from his counterpart in the other task force as they verified their positions. The navigator activated the main viewscreen on the forward bulkhead as they waited. Suddenly, there were a multitude of exit flashes 200,000 kilometers from the bow of her carrier, and hundreds of warships appeared at a dead stop relative to her position.
Her jaw dropped as she took in the unexpected fleet in front of her. There were dozens of Commonwealth dreadnaughts, battleships, and heavy cruisers arrayed before her, as well as an additional one hundred and twenty light cruisers, destroyers, and missile frigates. On the flanks of the main formation, there were more exit flashes, and the bridge AI started categorizing them on the screen, and she saw that they were the new Eleani and Xenxin warships that she had been hearing about. They shared a design lineage with the Commonwealth ships, but there were definite differences that became obvious as they assumed their positions next to the Commonwealth navy ships. She was particularly intrigued by the Xenxin ships, as they seemed to be bristling with weapons, almost excessively so relative to their ship sizes. The Eleani ships seemed to have taken a different design philosophy, and they gave the impression of deadly speed and grace, and she was hard-pressed to spot any obvious weapons on their hulls despite the AI confirming that the ships were indeed well-armed.
There was another coded signal from null space that appeared on the comm station panel, and her comm officer turned to her. “Vice-admiral, we have received a coded message on the sigma frequency for your eyes only that requires biometric and voice verification to decrypt.” Zhou nodded and pressed a button on her arm panel, activating the privacy screen around her chair and feeling the pressure change as the bridge around her became opaque and silent. She pressed the biometric toggle on the panel, and a retinal scanner popped out of its alcove on the side. She leaned in and scanned her right eye first, then her left. An icon appeared on the screen, and she thumbed it as it flashed and confirmed the print. Finally, she spoke and addressed the bridge AI: “Suzy, please confirm the voice command for verification.” The AI answered immediately. -Of course, Vice-Admiral Zhou, please proceed.- “Zhou, one-red-seven-green-four-tango-alpha-zero. Execute.” -Voice command verified. Thank you, Vice-Admiral Zhou.-
A small holographic display popped up in front of her; the admiral appeared on the screen, and his pre-recorded message started playing. “Mei, I know all this cloak and dagger stuff seems excessive, but we couldn’t take any chances. The receipt of this message will activate a program in your bridge AI and allow it to take control of the new drone ships waiting for you in null space. They are a new class of upgraded null ships and are top secret. Your AI will anchor them to your task force, and they will follow you, remaining hidden in null space unless you absolutely need them.”
“There are also two troopships with them that are carrying a complement of two thousand Mark XII ATS Bio-Synths and an expeditionary brigade each of rangers and pathfinders in stasis. They are also to remain in null space unless circumstances require that you need them; they are an insurance policy for an ongoing mission in Insectoid space. The details of that are top secret as well and can be accessed with your AI. If the troopships are required for that mission, they are to be escorted by a detachment of null ships and sent there immediately. After you have met your task force counterpart, there are orders in this packet that are to be accessed by you both and executed. I have the utmost faith in you, Mei, and I can’t wait to take you out to dinner again when we can both coordinate our next leave together. Thompson out.”
The hologram message disappeared, and she waited a little longer to allow the blush from his last sentence to fade from her cheeks and suppress the smile that was trying to form on her face before she put on her command mask and lowered the privacy screen. The bridge crew was going about their usual tasks, trying hard not to seem interested in her top-secret message. “Comms, open a channel to the task force flagship, please.” The comm officer acknowledged the order, and a few seconds later, the Bridge of the Commonwealth flagship appeared on the viewscreen.
A Nekuli male was sitting in the command chair, resplendent in the uniform favored by Nekuli officers. He took a moment to look around her bridge before settling his eyes on her. He bowed his head slowly in a gesture of respect, which she returned in proper fashion. The proper courtesies having been observed, he raised his eyes to meet with hers and started speaking. “Vice-Admiral Zhou. May the ancestors grant you and your clan honor and good fortune. I am deeply honored to meet you, and I hope our integration is a successful endeavor. I now entrust the honor of myself and my crew to your safekeeping.” He remained stone still as he awaited her reply, and she tried to remember the proper return greeting that she had been studying during their trip here.
“Commodore Therax, the honor is mine, and I promise you that I shall never ask you or your crew to undertake any action that will bring dishonor to your clans and your ancestors. We are now joined as one; may our cause be just and pure.” She finished the response, and the gravity of what she just promised to someone she had never met before hit her hard; it felt almost sacred to her. Commodore Therax heard her proper reply, and he stood up, followed by the rest of his bridge crew. He addressed her again. “Our honor has been given, and we have received a promise to safeguard it in return. Our joining is now consecrated in the eyes of the ancestors, and you are now our clan leader. What are your orders?
She recovered from the ordeal of the emotionally charged exchange of vows and stood up to give her first order as clan leader to the Nekuli. “I request the presence of you and your senior staff aboard my ship tonight. I will prepare a feast to honor our new friendship and alliance. I have studied your cuisine, and I have found a selection of Earth cuisine that should suit your taste. It is called tartare and sashimi; I think you will like it.” Commodore Therax looked at her dubiously, and she had to stifle a laugh at his expression as she knew that he was imagining being forced to eat vegetables and overcooked meat out of politeness. She spoke quickly to assuage his fears. “Commodore, tartare, and sashimi are raw red meat and fish; I would never inflict vegetables and burnt meat on you or your crew; are we not friends?”
As his translator finished converting her words into his language, he smiled at her, baring all of his fangs in true happiness.

We all have heard people say they feel time is speeding up. Or how our childhood compared to today is such a massive difference, it's ridiculous it isn't spoken about more often. This isn't just some saying, or speaking metaphorically.
It really is faster.
Every single day that goes by, I have been paying attention to this. I remember when I was younger, my teacher taught us how to count seconds properly, using the word "mississipi" how?
When counting the seconds, we would count; one Mississippi two Mississippi three Mississippi four Mississippi five Mississippi six Mississippi, etc etc.
Counting this way is almost dead accurate on how much gap is between each second. And you don't count fast, you just say this in a monotone voice, regular speed not fast not slow, but just regular without any pauses. When you count atleast 1-10 it's pretty accurate. However..
If you look at the seconds either on your phone or a watch, and use this method, the difference is just absurd. It isn't even close. The seconds today are almost triple the speed. I clearly remember using this method for everything, all the time when I was younger. But now? There isn't even a comparison.
I have a internal clock inside of me, in my mind, and as far as I remember, I have always been 15-20 minutes accurate when guessing the time, when not looking at a clock or anything for a few hours. Down to the minute. Alot of family and friends use to be impressed by this. I can go hours upon hours without looking at the time and just by taking a second or two, I can calculate what time it is, sometimes even by no more than 5 minutes. Sometimes I'm even dead accurate, more than I can count.
But the past few months, I have had to guess the time at times, and man let me tell you, I am hours apart. I would know for certain (example) that it can be just about 1:30pm, and when I look at the time, it's 2:59. And it happens all the time. How you think I have went throughout my life missing my alarm clock, not hearing it or something, and naturally wake myself up at the exact time I was suppose to have heard my alarm? By this "internal" clock in me.
The time has certainly sped up so much that it shocks me nobody talks more of this. I cannot be the only person who has noticed this.
Has anyone else been able to notice this? I'd love to know what ya'll think. I already know WHY time is speeding up, but my question is if it's been making you sense this time dilation and how maybe it's fucking with your head as well.

There's a bad joke in Gnosis, it goes like this: "How do you know if the fox in front of you is a vulp?" The responder asks how, and the punchline is "Ask them. If they say yes, they're a vulp. If they say no, they're a sarcastic vulp.". It's a dumb joke, but there's a kernel of truth to it: Looking at a vulp that is currently quadripedal, nude and silent, one would need to inspect their paws to tell they're not an ordinary fox. The reason it's allegedly funny is all three of those are rarities on account of them being people and it's so unlikely you're ever going to be confused that there's supposedly humor in suggesting the hypothetical. (You'll note the words "allegedly" and "supposedly".) Nevertheless, there's a good reason these fox-people look so much like a real fox, and it's because they are a real fox. Let me explain.
This setting's Precursors (if the name didn't tip you off they're so long gone we don't know what they called themselves) felt the need to add "native" sophonts to every one of the four planets and nine moons they terraformed in this one star system, the inner worlds all got multiple, working with samples from some little blue backwater that forgot they were ever there and what little life was on each world to begin with just like they did for the rest of the ecosystem. In this case they literally just took red fox embryos from the aforementioned backwater planet, altered their genes to modify their anatomy and brains in particular so they could fill that role. Their hips are altered to support bipedal locomotion but don't look different externally when quadripedal and the biggest visible change was moving their tiny fifth digit on their forelimbs closer to the other toes (or I guess "fingers" now), elongating and turning it so it functions as an opposable thumb. Altering existing or extinct animals was how they made all their artificial sophonts, even the really weird ones like the dragons or those things from Lum with eleven heads, but by this point in the timeline they got lazy. They were already on worlds 6-13, they had to light up a brown dwarf as an artificial undersized star to make even eight out of its over two hundred moons habitable. All the creativity by this point in the project was going into "how", not "what" and the biology team was running low on ideas, so they didn't make any extraneous changes like they normally would. Fox, smart brain, paw hands, tweaked hips, boom, fox-person, done. Moon-planet of the fox-people, slap it on a plastic lunch box and get the spy drones set up so the tourists can covertly watch the fox tribes build their brand new fox civilization and fox culture until they have fox cities with fox art and fox fasion and form fox countries with fox governments and intercontinental fox trade networks that fight fox wars motivated entirely by the greed of individual foxes but presented to the poor foxes fighting them as moral crusades in the name of their fox gods and fox nations to preserve their fox values, fox traditions, fox beliefs and way of fox life.
My question is: What do you think of this approach to animal people? What do you think of them looking so much like the existing animal that you have to rely on them doing people things or detailed knowledge of their anatomy to tell they're not the regular animal they're based on?
Or, more bluntly, I think they're lazy and they're supposed to be lazy but are they too lazy or am I good?

Relationship help?
help!!!!! im so confused
i 14m like this girl in the samw year as me. but its so confusing so i’ll tell u the story first. (its a long one)
I’m from England and so is the girl i like. lets call her Julie. and we go to the same high school. one year an opportunity for an exchange was brought up. In October we’d spend 10 days at our exchange partner’s house in America and go to their school and go round the island learning about different things. Before this, i’d wanted to know who Julie was etc. and I’d kept her at the back of my mind. To my luck, Julie was also going to go on the exchange (There were 30 of us and there are 300 people in my year.) So after the snapchat group chat was made I very smoothly 🤣 slided into Julie’s DM’s. We just talked loads instantly and we were yet to talk in real life. (She is in the other half of the year so we didn’t have any classes.) Meeting after meeting about the trip and we still hadn’t talked. Eventually, the trip arrived and we were headed to heathrow from a local airprot and Heathrow to the airport in america. In the security bit we finally spoke. Julie made a joke as I scurried around trying to be as quick as possible. From there we just kept talking and we even talked on the plane (when she woke up). She was sat behind me and I was sat with a friend and us three talked.
I can’t remember all the details but basically, throughout the whole trip me and her talked the whole time and people always shipped us if you get what I mean. However, I do remember the airport back. We had a three hour wait time I think at the american airport. and we were going around in small groups of four or five and I just spontaneously chose to go around with Julie. Julie was with two of her other friends but we spent the whole three hours making tiktoks and laughing and joking about and we both really enjoyed it. Finally, we were back home and we proceeded to text until school came by again. This is where another recently solved problem comes around.
The last day of the trip there was a massive party and I met this girl lets call Bella. Me and Bella started texting from there and sort of started liking each other. By this point I really really liked Julie and never stopped thinking about her but never knew if she felt the same and was very cautious about it. However, me and Bella kind of died down after a week or so.
So it was back to me putting my full effort into liking Julie. At school we didn’t talk much be exchange the few words whenever I saw her. I was really nervous around her in real life and tried to do my best to make it discreet I liked her and directed my attention elsewhere while still having full attention on her. Yet we texted like crazy and full on as well. We would always joke around and call each other names jokingly and we were really really friendly. We didn’t talk as much in January and February but picked up again in March. I still really really really liked her again and in April we shared our ambitions and they pretty much matched up and we shared our ‘types’ and we described each other but were completely clueless we liked each other. It got a bit confusing because she liked me ( I later found out in June/July) but also mentioned this other guy so I got confused and then in June it got really really messy.
You remember Bella right? Well the American kids all came over to England this time and stayed with us. On the first few days me and Bella didn’t talk however we did one day and we kicked about a ball on a field where everyone on the exchange was hanging out after we had a football match. From there me and Bella hung out a lot together and did stuff together in class activities. We really liked each other and I no longer liked Julie. (It’s really important to keep in mind me and Bella didn’t know each other deeply etc.) However my feeling for Julie still remained a bit but slowly died out even when I still liked Bella the first few days. Anyways, me and Bella had held hands a few times etc. and when Bella went we hugged a lot. We weren’t into a relationship and a few days later we stated ‘talking’ (A state in which the relationship is similar to a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship but is not official.) and we called a lot. However a few problems arose when me and Bella discovered each other’s emotions and how we live and what we live by. It was present she was over reactive, over protective, quite mean (For example I’d talk about my day and she wouldn’t care and she’d talk about hers.), she also talked to a lot of other boys oddly (For example she blocked me sometimes and a few days later my friend was at the top of her best friend-list with a 😗 next to his name.) and she always had excuses. It just didn’t work for me and I wasn’t happy at all. Prior to me and Bella stopping talking me and Julie started to text again.
me and julie started to text again in about july 2023. (idk). julie had just got out of a relationship in august so i only started liking her again in september 2023. i tood my friends and obviously word spread but i always said i didnt infront of her so idk if she knew or not. anyway we still texted alot however another guy liked her who also texted her and there was a bit of competition. for a few months i didnt even know if i liked her, some days i would, some days i wouldnt and i was really conflicted. now, the ither guy and her dont really text much and so im not really bothered. we still both text each other loads and weve had eachother st the top of our best friends list for two weeks😂😂. anyways i have no idea if she likes me or not but i like her and were like best friends. feel free to ask any questions.
By the way the girl from american is completely out the picture. Julie doesnt know i like her.

So, you said Lord Nicholas has no personality, which is true lol, but since I'm the devil's advocate, I took that as a challenge. Make yourself comfortable for a long read. Have some popcorn.
Why is this guy more of a tragic character, rather than a villain? And how does a man lose identity, and becomes a monster through desperation? I'll answer this for you below.
• Throughout Plague Tale Innocence, there are various signs that although he is personally close to Vitalis (no use of titles or formalities when speaking to each other) he is the execution, and not the mastermind behind the plans. For example, when Hugo's Macula was to be tested, he urged Vitalis on to put an end to the plague already, they are not here to play games.
• In the very same chapter, we get a little insight on what he believes and thinks about the conflict between the Inquisition and the De Runes. He doesn't understand why Beatrice De Rune resists their persuasion for information regarding the Macula, since their goals are shared -> ending the Plague. Ultimately, he blindly believes Vitalis wants to control the Plague to save them. And he does anything, ANYTHING to make that happen.
Commit genocide against peasants, and in the end, even go as far as killing Hugo.
Now, let's take a little turn to make a background check for this guy. Or at least what is hinted, and what can be assumed with intuition and theories.
• Like I mentioned before, him and Vitalis are personally close, and in the preultimate chapter of Plague Tale: Innocence, after his death, guards talk about him in the city. They are confused why Vitalis hasn't sent anyone for his search (I'll get to that one later), since he was his Protégé. This alone in itself wouldn't mean anything, but right after that a guard added "Maybe he found himself another Protégé" regarding Hugo of course.
Since this game is about innocence and children, it's almost safe to assume that Nicholas likely got taken under Vitalis' wings just as Hugo was now in the present. That would explain why they are close, and why Nicholas blindly trusts his master. Another dialogue backs this up, between the Arch Bishop and Vitalis. "Puppets like you will kneel and beg me to save them." and look who appears and kneels right there and then? Lord Nicholas. This is my theory, I can back it up but it isn't 100% surely true of course. Take it with a pinch of salt please.
• Now, time to get to why Vitalis didn't send anyone after Nicholas' disappearance... We saw nothing of the two months Hugo spent in the Bastion, but based on the Cathedral's state, it's safe to assume things didn't go that well with controlling the Macula. The plan was to get Hugo through the threshold finally, so that the Conjuration can begin. (Note to self: another essay later about that one). Although they tried to push Hugo through with hurting his mother, it didn't work. Because of this, Vitalis tasked Nicholas with taking Hugo to his sister, to end her life. This is simple, but it doesn't stop here.
In the chapter Blood Ties (where we control Hugo), we already meet an impatient Nicholas who wants to put an end to the Plague. Not only that, but let me get to one crucial sentence told by Vitalis. "Nicholas... You cannot understand." This hints at the disagreements between the two, and that Nicholas is not indulged in how this should be done. Nicholas tries to help Vitalis up, but he rejects the help too. It's quite symbolic for the one-sided trust between the two. Due to this growing mistrust, and how Vitalis didn't expect Nicholas to come back after his mission later on, to me it seems like Vitalis cut the ties and sent him exactly to his death to get rid of him.
• Vitalis' plan was never to get rid of Hugo once they pass the threshold ("I have a lot to teach the Carrier, and his friends."), and knew well, that Nicholas has no chance against Hugo and Amicia with the rats alongside them. He sent the man who trusted him the most to his death, and with that also chose his ultimate protégé - Hugo. It's also likely that Nicholas' mistrust grew because his position in the hierarchy was compromised, since it's likely Vitalis got obsessed with Hugo, and Nicholas almost realized he is played with. There is also the idea, that Vitalis sent him away to actually save him from the white rats he meant to send on the crowd anyway. Anyway, Vitalis is for another essay...
• The betrayed, the sacrificed. Who is he? There is absolutely little we know of him, except for his title and occupation. What always speaks in Plague Tale: Innocence though, is the design. I mean look at that drip- sorry.. In "A Making of Plague Tale: Innocence" the creative developers mention the importance of faces, and overall pure, intuitive impressions we get of our characters.
• There is only one character whose face we never see, and that is Nicholas. That doesn't only play as a psychological trick to make him more terrifying, but also hints at certain points. First of all, his robes are Dominican. This is historically fitting (although there were no dominican knights) since Dominicans were those entrusted by the Church to handle trials against heresy and begin inquisitions. This also hints that he is very religious and dedicated to serving the (assumed) good. I know, no way. Let's not forget about how faded out it is, or bloody. In NO way he is a good guy, but a tragic believer? Likely. Under the robes is the armour, which is hit all around. It's no news we talk about a very experienced and efficient knight who also happens to be serving Vitalis (NOT the Church! Explained in another essay, chill.). Knights start their training at 7, and only nobles are in for the job, obviously. I made the connection, that since he likely knows Vitalis from his childhood, and his training also began when he was 7 years old, and his name was Nicholas...
Side note: In medieval times, children were named after Saints to inwoke their blessing, in this case, among many things, protecting children.
It's likely that he himself, just like those he hunts, was an orphan, perhaps even a sinner, who had to be saved by none else, than Vitalis. Give it a thought, maybe he was a lost little boy like Hugo, whose innocence was stolen way too early. With how Plague Tale likes to play with irony and parallels between characters, I don't see this as unlikely.
• All in all, he is what his occupation is, and nothing human. He is the machine that serves. The cross, the judgement. We cannot see his face, because he has no identity except what Vitalis gave him. His role, his title, his mission (perhaps even name). As it can be seen, Hugo too, was dressed in robes showing the Inquisition's sign, like a mark of ownership over him.
• From the very start of the story, he was the representative of that time's barbaric cruelty, unforgiving, misplaced judgement. And as though from the children's perspective he was a monster from the very beginning, how did it go down? As I said before, he has no identity except his committment, and through that his morals, ambitions are shown. At the very start, they ambushed the De Rune estate, and we CANNOT know, if the violance was planned beforehand or it came due to Robert's resistance.
People were taken hostage for questioning, the goal was to capture Hugo, the Carrier, and Beatrice, the only one who can help them understand the plague's origins. It was bloody, but after this chapter, you can hear guards clearly say "capture children" and not just Hugo. Now, unbelivably, I don't think he wanted Amicia bad at the start. They confront each other in the English camp for the second time (where he paid a ransom for both of them), where he tries to negotiate with her to give them Hugo and stop running. Later his methods change, telling the plain truth that there is nowehere for her to go out there (These methods of convincing show a lot of personality and insight especially in the boss fight).
Later on, it's mentioned Vitalis is going hard on him but "he is used to it". Again, their shared history is hinted. The hunt for Hugo is fruitless still, and the plague is spreading day-by-day.
Next we hear from him, is in the chapter where we visit the city with Amicia. Or rather, that he is not exactly participating in the mission killing the sick. Since him and Vitalis disagree with methods of solving the Plague, and he is occupied with catching Hugo, there is a possibility this order of slaughter was carried out without his consent. Though, this is a high take and it would be totally in character to do such a task in the means of self-preservation.
Amicia's visions of him from Penance is not reliable, but at the very same time she clearly dreamed what happened and it's likely she mixed reality with hallucinations from exhaust. If, the hallucinations were true, that means Hugo did hear Amicia, but Nicholas directly diverted his attention from her and led him away.
It's hard to speculate if he did this to let nature do its work, or to actually show mercy, which is equally possible, since it was clear from the beginning that even though she killed his men, he knew she is simply running and kills as a means to survive.
Now, as I explained earlier, many things go down when Hugo resides in the Bastion, and we can only guess what that causes. I mentioned Nicholas' growing distrust, now let me introduce you to the psychological denial he experiences during the boss fight, along with his reflections pointing at the children. The man, becoming the monster. The fire (another essay since fire in Plague Tale is symbolic) causing him to destroy himself.
In the chapter Remembrance he goes to the Château d'Ombrage along Hugo, to ensure the boy passes the threshold with killing his sister, with this enabling Vitalis to pass as well. At first, Nicholas is quite calm and confident, sending Hugo to kill her "Go, and do what has to be done.". Interestingly, despite this, he still has his sword prepared, which shows he still doesn't trust Hugo. Later on, he knocks Arthur out, but doesn't kill him senselessly, despite the fiasco at the English camp. He takes Amicia to Hugo, and now threatens him to kill her, or else he kills his mother in front of him. After that, he tells him, if Hugo does as he tells him so, maybe Vitalis keeps him by his side.
This could hint that only by accomplishments such as this, and proving devotion, can one remain important in Vitalis' eyes. Also, that maybe, Nicholas had to go through something similar, "She means nothing to you now".
Doubts and frantic impatience take hold, which ultimately lead him to take matters into his own hands. He decides to kill her, himself. As he pushes Hugo away, she calls him a bastard, which he then turns back at her, to question her morality and self-righteousness. She betrayed him, that is why he gave himself up. It can be perhaps far-fetched, but this also can count as self-reflection already. Betrayal -> causing giving up, which happens later to him too.
After Arthur "takes care of him" (not exactly...) and the siblings reunite, Nicholas wakes up and this time, immediately kills Arthur. The death is not just a shock value as many believe, it also shows the already progressing monster stepping forth, and losing humanity entirely.
The boss fight has three phases. His methods at provoking the children, and self-reflect change and become way more intense with time.
In the first phase, he tries to separate them and tells Amicia that he knows it must be difficult to live in the Carrier's shadow. Also, that they are terrified. He is poking at her most vulnerable place, their biggest fear, which's "face" is ultimately him. Also, reminding Amicia of her biggest desire, that is to be acknowledged by her parents. Especially this can count as self-reflective, since as I said earlier Nicholas likely noticed Hugo is slowly replacing him in Vitalis' eyes. The wish to excell, and be acknowledged for the devotion is a deep scar this character could carry. He also reminds them of how their father died, to remind them of honour, which Nicholas obviously has a twisted sense of.
In the second phase, his first voice line shows surprise and fear, and anger in response to those feelings. He is more reckless and aggressive too. Here, again, he manipulatively reminds them how little they can do, and threatens them. This is both calculated and instinctual, since he says such things to bring the children out of their hiding places, but at the very same time also because he is slowly losing himself. There are also lines which can be reflective to his beliefs and assumptions based on himself, such as: "Your sister won't be able to save you child.... You are alone." There were already connections made between how Vitalis saved him, and if one puts it all together, this line shows how he doesn't believe in the siblings' bond, because his own bond with Vitalis broke, and Nicholas is (alike to Hugo) alone. Or there is also the line "What do you think you can do? You are nothing. [...]" I wanted to highlight this line because Plague Tale (among many other things) is about the helplessness one faces trying to protect loved ones, and/or trying to rewrite their fates. The fact that Nicholas dehumanizes them entirely, shows he knows the fact one, them or him, cannot change the course that has been set, but he is still in denial trying to fight it (a lot like Amicia in Requiem, by the way. Also, fire (this is why that needs another essay....).
In the third phase, he becomes uncharacteristically reckless and desperate, where he succumbs to the wrath and, his fate. "Come to me, come into my arms my dear children." His sanity decreases and he knows death is unavoidable. The question left is whenever he can bring them down with himself or fails. And failure, is unacceptable. He is better dead, than failed. "I will teach you the meaning of sacrifice" this line shows that likely, he accepted his last quest knowing well he is going to die probably. That he rather burns himself, bring hell, than letting go. He keeps shouting the motto of his order, because that is the only thing that he clings to. It's pathetic and forced, inhumane. "[...] We'll die together" <-> "I will boil your blood until it spurts from your eyes", "You are going to pay, [...]" by this time, he keeps switching tactics at approaching and luring them out, frantic and monstrous. His words mean nothing by this time and desperation takes hold. What line of him is the purest, rawest, and most honest, between all the threads and claims, self-convincing attempts to maintain devoted is this: "The pain... To feel oneself alive... And deliver death." This line might seem like one among the many terrible threats, but it in fact shows his deepest belief. That is, of pain and life. Sacrifice and death. That those who live, have to kill, and that is what it means to exist in this world.
• In Plague Tale Innocence and Requiem, we see Amicia's development into a murderer who follows similarly blind committments.
She ultimately becomes, what she condemned, and what caused her great misery. What, in the end, she herself becomes if Hugo doesn't lead her on the right path. A monster.
So, to sum it all up, Lord Nicholas represents the human being of that time, whose identity is what he serves, and nothing else.
It makes one selfless, righteous, but at what cost? Violence spreads from one person to another, while everyone tries to save what is precious to them. Hope this helped seeing him as more human and with more personality. Cheers. A few more points I couldn't exactly integrate are the following:
• A few things showing the underlying morality and plain intentions: at first he tried to negotiate with both Robert, Amicia, and Beatrice as well. He condones stealing entirely. He doesn't kill Arthur at first.
• In the concept art he is left handed. In Middle Ages, left handed people were considered sinful, since it was the "devil's hand". This added with the self-punishing- self-destructive-Catholic mindset, added with his devotion, signs that he is penitent, and does what he should for a greater good, a salvation, and carries the burden of "sacrifice".

I didn’t know that I’ve always felt a little lonely even though I enjoyed some beautiful solitude as an introvert, I never wanted to date, marry, or get involved in any sort of sexual relationships either. It felt complicated because of the relationships I’ve seen growing up. But a girl sneaked her way in subtly yet coercively, even thought I kept pushing her away. Brought me some distress of getting out of my comfort zone and made me learn how to adapt to change better. This distress soon converted to joy and belonging, as I noticed how it had brought me what I unknowingly craved. Growth and connection, a start of maintaining and expressing that. I was happy and alive again. She fell for me, but I only saw her as a close friend until later when I actually processed my emotions, I wasn’t as evolved as her I joked. We confessed to each other after some back and forth and misunderstandings. It hasn’t even been a month after my confession and I lost her to a tragic accident. Now I’ve lost a close friend, lover, and a someone I looked up to. I’m scared to be lonely. I feel misunderstood by everyone. We had so many plans, I was supposed to take her out on a date soon, we hadn’t done anything sexual yet but we talked about it and being a virgin I was scared yet excited as I finally could trust someone. I yearn for her presence, her touch, holding her hands, hugs, cuddles, and tiny pecks apart from her voice and adorable goofy gimmicks. (She would be laughing at me for being so dramatic and call me a grandma for using the word ‘yearn’ lol). My days started with her good mornings and ended with her good nights, we texted all the time, everyday for three years now. I miss her would be an understatement.
I need your guidance and help please,

1. I’m scared to be lonely again, but nothing is able is (and I don’t want it to either) replace her presence. I’m scared to rationalize it and forget her or feel it and go back to the depression, she with love and effort pulled me out of.
   
2. I’m not in the city we lived in and am staying with my parents for a bit, it feels like I’m a little better as we have no memories here but I still cry almost everyday. I’m scared to go back to our city but I need to graduate my undergrad.
   
3. Since we were in early stages could this be an attachment or was it love? What do I call us? We weren’t just close friends but we weren’t in a romantic relationship officially either.
   
4. Why is the universe so cruel? I miss my previous self, will I ever escape this sadness and hurt? Why must I go through this loneliness, am I doomed for it? She made my life alive and now she’s the one who’s is dead. I wanted to love her after all that she had been through. Now I can’t even remember her without feeling this hurt in my heart.
   

When I was growing up, my parents moved us around alot. I have 3 siblings, 1 brother and 2 sisters. We moved around so much I met so many people but I never made any real friends, we stopped moving and stayed in one place for a few years, I made a "friend" there, later I realized he liked my older brother more than me, they were friends, not me. That was a real emotional punch.we all moved and than moved again, and again, and we finally made it to a place called tipton, we stayed there for 4 years, I made a real friend there, and even met a girl I really liked, but she didnt like me in the same way, how could she? Theres so many better, more interesting people around. Tword the end of our time living in tipton, my only friend got a girlfriend and she got pregnant. Thats about the time we stopped talking, He has a life to live now. My little sister at the time, she made some bad choices and met this guy colby, a nastly drug addicted pos, he turn this sweet innocent girl into a heroine using meth head, he knocked her up three times, and convinced her that all the choices she made were our fault. Alot of other stuff happened but shes not around anymore. My big sister moved out back then too, I was still just 17 maybe 18 at the time, my parents decided to buy a rv and leave tipton and took me and my older brother out of state, we went to Colorado. Lived there for 4 years and than went to nevada for 6 months and thanwe came back to our home state when mom and dad lost their jobs, I was never able to finish high school and never made any friends, for the last 5 years we have been traveling in the same old state and just living on what we had.
Whats really been getting to me for the last few years, Is all my life we have been moving, I never had a girlfriend, no romantic relationship, that girl I liked back in tipton, she told me I was too boring, and that I'm not good enough. All the females in the schools I went to mostly avoided me. Im convinced I'm never going to find anyone to be with. On top of that my dad has always been a drinker, lots of beer every night. When he dinks he kinda mentally abused and bully me, more so than when he wasnt drunk, and because of how I grew up I never learned to think fast enough to defend myself with words like most people do, again never had any friends to talk to lile that.
Most recently I moved in with my cousin, Lets call him J, he knows alot about my family and how I grew up, even saw some of it. So when we started talking again, he would ask questions about life, and honestly, I told him the truth about some of it. Him and his girlfriend M, got a home together and weeks later they invited me over to hang out, and we did that a few times, when I first walked into their home it felt lile I was finally back home, about 10 years of not living in a house. It feels different, the two of them said they were already talking about me moving in before I even asked them, so it was a easy yes, I guess. Been here for almost 2 weeks. Theyre the greatest couple I have ever seen.
Ofcourse seeing them be so romantic and stuff, its been hitting me even harder, how much I have always felt alone, been alone, how I will probably never be in a romantic relationship, and at this point thats all I want, its been so bad, I never really though about suicide before. But the months before I moved here It started coming to mind, and now everytime I see them cuddle up or kiss, I get a deep feeling in my chest, my mind feels like its going to fall apart. The other night I found myself just looking at nothing while deep in my thoughts running so many of my problems through my head I started crying. Had to be quite tho, didnt wanna get anyones attention in the middle of the night, I cant ever sleep well and lately its been getting harder and harder to eat.
I dont know what to do with myself. I cant bring myself to commit suicide, so thats off the table, too shy and scared of opening up to J or M even though their so easy to talk to. Theres the two of them and their kids, there so many around me now, I was a part of a family of six and now this family of six has invited me to be here. I still feel all alone.
I bearly get any sleep, I just wanna cuddle up with someone and fall asleep.

Paul Pierce Says The N Word On Live TV
https://youtu.be/xRBoYZO1oXE?si=YnItN1e1ZSLUko83
🚨New Upload🚨
Paul Pierce On Undisputed Today He Said The N Word While Dissecting The Knicks Vs Pacers Series.
He Said “I just didn’t think what they were doing was sustainable,” Pierce said. “Look at this. The first three games — look at this n*****, [Keyshawn Johnson] — DiVincenzo was averaging 29 points per game, 50% from the field, 56% from three.”
Paul Pierce Might Get Fired For Dropping The N Bomb.
Do You Agree Paul Pierce Job Should Be On The Line ?

I don't know if this scorecard belongs, but I found this Reddit yesterday, so a little story:
Florence, Kentucky is a suburb of Cincinnati, in Northern Kentucky. So yes, it's like walking to the plate with an 0-2 count, but don't laugh Quebec City, you had an NHL team once. I went to a game between the Quebec Capitales & the Florence Y'alls (see below) with some family. I took a printout of one of my Excel scorecards (a cross between the Eephus Halfliner & the 72 Double Play) to help pass the time between advertisements between pitches, kids races, and other accoutrements of minor-minor-minor league baseball.
We had seats on the aisle behind home plate, and during the middle of the sixth inning, it was our "turn" to be visited by the home team's mascot. The mascot was some guy in a red suit with a head shaped like a water tower, this town's primary claim to fame. The tower's fame, along Interstate 75, was secured when it was repainted with the phrase "Florence Y'all". It had originally been painted with "Florence Mall", while the mall was still under construction in the 1970's. However, there was a law in Kentucky that stated that billboards advertising something that doesn't exist were illegal. But, why just paint over the word Mall or sue against an obviously anti-First Amendment law, when you can make a nationwide fool out of yourself?
Anyway, as the mascot came up the aisle, he looked at my scorecard, pointed at it, and shrugged his shoulders with his palms up in a "What are you doing?" gesture...several times, for about a minute. I ignored him. My family was petrified. Obviously this was some lousy high schooler, but this was an embarrassment for this organization and the league. If you don't want people who like baseball to show up, then just run a pay-to-enter playground with adjacent bar. May this entire league go belly-up tomorrow.
By the way, their official scorekeeper was incompetent, incorrectly scoring an throwing error on a double play ball as a fielder's choice, incorrectly counting an earned run as unearned, at least according to the league's web site on my phone, and what I would consider an error was scored as a single. But, OK.
There was also a de facto curfew because the home plate umpire started ignoring the pitch clock, had a three-foot wide strike zone, starting in the bottom of the fifth inning, and missing an obvious hit-by-pitch (you could hear it, the place was quieter than a library). That's not surprising, but yeah, I guess no one involved with this league actually considers baseball as anything other than a sideshow--where no one thinks the results are important. So, why should I? But, hey, that makes the Frontier League just like The Show.
What a joke.

23F, 95 lbs, 5'1
Last month in early April, I noticed a small but enlarged lymph node on the right side of my neck, close enough to my collarbone that its basically hugging it (while still being on my neck itself). I gave myself a few weeks to watch it after calling the doctor, and then was scheduled for an appointment to have them look at it.
My symptoms generally since then have been the average worsening fatigue (that could also be explained away by worsening anxiety/depression since this health scare began. I have a long history of moderate mental illness and stress in general), intense hot flashes and chills that wake me up at night, and a lot of sweating both at night and during the day. The sweating could only be described as drenching sweats at night for about three or four days out of the last month, but it's been constant enough to be a concern. I have also recently had my tonsil swell up, and bleed very mildly for a day, but that has since gone down. During one day, I was so tired and out of breath during my normal trip to the mall that I had to sit down and rest before continuing home, which is a five minute walk from the mall.
My doctor had me go through a chest xray, and pretty extensive blood work which I called for the results of today and both have come back perfectly normal in their words (yay!!!) Receptionist is emailing me the full results probably sometime tomorrow. I am awaiting a call from the hospital within the next few days for them to schedule an ultrasound on my neck which hopefully is good news as well.
Ever since these tests were done though, even more nodes have swollen up in the same area as the first lymph node that I originally went in for within a time frame of a few days. The original one has also slightly grown further. It now instead of being one, is a small cluster of nodes which are all roughly the same size - each a centimeter or less in size, so not very big. I will be mentioning this to my doctor upon our next conversation to make sure that he is aware in case this is a worrying sign.
I'm very relieved all my results came back normal obviously, but I am still a little concerned nonetheless. I still have all these other symptoms that are causing me concern and impacting my life, and I do have the ultrasound coming up fairly soon when they call me. Is there anything else I can do or ask for as a patient to make sure I have covered all my bases before I let myself 100% breathe and relax about it?
Now that my doctor has ruled out lymphoma so far, and has also ruled out diabetes as a small side-quest (it was a fasting blood test and would have likely been picked up iirc?), I am definitely less anxious, but would also like to get to the bottom of this asap. I believe the next thing we're looking to rule out is my thyroid, as my mother has hyperthyroidism.
Thanks for reading ( : Not looking for medical advice per se, just looking for what I should be aware of as a patient in this situation, how normal all of this is, and what I should ask for if there is anything else to look into. Wanna make sure we've thought of everything.

Noah The Pilgrim
First Next
There is one last thing to do before leaving. If you don't recall ever being on this ship, then surely, you could have had your appearance change too.
Why was there a blanket covering a mirror? You couldn't answer that with a straight face without speculation.
"Probably me being lazy and not bothering to properly place it in the wardrobe."
'Probably' is the main focus here, you simply cannot remember ever being that lazy, yet that's the only logical conclusion to be drawn here.
You pull the thing off, careful to not displace the mirror and risk breaking it.
You have no expectations as to what may appear on the glassy surface of the mirror, yet you can't help but feel a bit anxious. Are you the same as before? How were you before? You can't remember. Are you better? Worse? The blanket is now completely off the mirror, but your eyes are closed.
Whatever is it that you see when you open your eyes, that thing will be you for the rest of your life. You swallow, opening your eyes.
You see a young man that looks to be in his mid-twenties. His brown eyes stare back at you, analyzing the bags beneath your eye sockets. The dark hair is neither too long nor too short, floating about without order thanks to the lack of gravity to keep it down. You see a beard that has not been trimmed for weeks, but also lacks thickness, each singular hair isn't particularly long either; and some even appear to be in-grown.
You touch your hand against your face, making sure it's yours. The beard doesn't feel like you supposed it would against your skin, instead of it scraping your hand you feel softness, no resistance or anything.
Just beneath the face, you see what looks like a hate crime against all that is considered holy in fashion. Plain white coveralls with the added bonus of a black tie and boots made from metal and leather. On your chest is also a badge stuck in place by velcro with your name, occupation, and crew. 'NOAH - INTERN - THE ODYSSEY.'
Only one question came to mind.
"Who the fuck designed this uniform?" You say out loud, receiving no answer.
Patting your newfound myriad of pockets, you find a large quantity of nothing. You place your wallet in one of them.
"Alright, I'll head to the bridge now, happy?" You say the AI.
"HAPPINESS WILL ONLY MEET ME ONCE YOU ARE SOMEWHERE SAFE AND YOUR CONTRACT IS TERMINATED. STOP LOITERING."
Well, that's a bit rude.
You compose yourself, straightening your back. This is what you look like, and honestly? Not too bad, but you could be better.
Returning to the cafeteria, you eye the two doors left unexplored; Communications and the one without plaque. You know where you should, but... A little peek doesn't hurt, right?
"Shouldn't we try to communicate with someone? Assuming you haven't tried it yet. I know we're far from everything, but we might as well, no?" You ask already approaching the door.
"COMMUNICATIONS ROOM IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO REACH WITHOUT PROPER PROTECTION AS OF NOW, IT'S LOCATED APPROXIMATELY TWO HUNDRED METERS FROM HERE, BLOWN OFF FROM THE REST OF THE SHIP." A shame really. "I SHALL INFORM YOU WHENEVER A DOOR LEADS TO THE OUTSIDE OR NOT."
You really want to ask what blew a whole segment of the ship off, yet you have a sneaking suspicion that your question will be met with a 'YOU DON'T HAVE CLEARANCE, JACKASS' directly in your face. So you chose to remain silent, simply nodding and approaching the correct door this time.
"Open."
---OPENING CAFETERIA DOOR NORTH---
The door silently opens.
Greeting you is a well-lit corridor. There are three doors on your left, a door at the end of the corridor, and a large window on the right. At least, you think that's a window.
You stare out from this window, nothing but utter blackness and fragments from your ship are seen. If this is the edge of the universe, and beyond this point, there is truly nothing. "Dreadful." Your speech matches your feelings.
"WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?" The AI says. You feel like it spoke in a mocking tone despite their lack of emotion.
You don't answer. "First door to the left... EXO-EXPLORATION...? What's that supposed to mean?" You receive no answer.
"Open." The door opens. No declarion of it opening once again.
You are met with what could be better described as 'Apocalyptic levels of mess', paper sheets float in the air, and not one of the four tables is in its correct position.
This room has been ransacked for all its goods apparently. Large display glasses were broken leaving nothing inside their casings, that looked like they could store something with the size of the common man.
Unusual displays aside, the room was so cluttered that the trash made for an effective smoke screen against what lay on the other side.
Hissing of gas exiting an air-tight space rang throughout the room.
"I HAVE OPENED THE STORAGE FOR AN EXO SUIT THAT BEST FITS SOMEONE YOUR SIZE." The AI says. "ALTHOUGH AN INTERN SHOULD NOT COME IN CONTACT WITH TECHNOLOGY SUCH AS THIS ONE, PROTOCOL DICTATES THAT I AM TO ALLOW ITS USAGE UNDER EXTREME CIRCUMSTANCES. CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY."
Easier said than done. Your vision is so cluttered that you cannot see what's ahead. "Give me a second."
Giving a light kick to the wall behind, you float face-first into the wall of thrash. Covering your face with both arms, you brace through the harmless bits of sharp objects and junk.
It's a trivial task. You arrive on the other side in no time.
In front of you is a set of boxes with luminous glass rectangles atop each one of them. All shine a bright red light, aside from one which shines green.
'Gotta be this one.'
You descend to the floor by kicking the ceiling, raising your right hand you touch the green rectangle.
*Click*
Nothing could have prepared you for the following series of events.
The box opens violently, as a metal appendage takes hold of your hand, pinning it to the box. You try to jerk and pry the thing off of you, but you fail. It's not leaving you anytime soon.
From the bottomless that is that container, a white plastic-like substance flows upward from your arm to the rest of your body. "Uh!" You don't know if you should panic or allow it to happen.
FYARN hasn't said anything, so it's probably fine...
The white thing seems to ignore the coveralls you are wearing completely, instead, it covers only your skin in a thin coat of... it. You know not what to call this thing.
In but forty seconds it has covered your whole body, excluding your head. The box lets go of your arm and stays there, floating.
You take a good look at your arms. It looks like a skin-tight suit, but it doesn't feel like plastic, in fact, it's more akin to some sort of fabric if anything.
The only bad part is that you are still using the coverall and tie, this this simply went beneath the clothing.
"GOOD, WITH THIS I CAN MONITOR YOU MORE CLOSELY. NOW PUT THE HELMET ON, YOU HAVE A LOT OF WORK TO DO."
You look around in search of anything that even resembles a helmet. Nope. Nothing. "Where is it?" You ask.
"...THE SUIT COMES WITHIN THE HELMET FOR EASIER PACKAGING."
The box?
You snatch the box that floated around and analyze it to the best of your ability. "How's this a helmet?"
"DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE PUTTING ON A HELMET? REALLY?"
Who is this AI, Who programmed it, and Why does it come with a taunting feature?
As idiotic as it sounds, you place the opened box atop your head. It doesn't fit properly. Maybe you're doing this wrong? You move it to your face instead.
You recoil backward as you feel the box suddenly clamping down against your head. It's useless of course, the box is holding your head and doesn't give any sign to be letting go anytime soon. No light is able to reach your eyes.
You hear metal parts scraping against themselves, moving near your ears. Abruptly your eyes can see again.
A round thin layer of glass now covers your head, almost unnoticeable for how clear it is.
"WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY I CAN NOW SEE WHAT YOU SEE." The AI's voice isn't in the room now, instead, it's inside of the suit. "DO YOU NEED INSTRUCTIONS REGARDING THIS SUIT'S FUNCTIONALITIES?"
You find it oddly comfortable as if you are surrounded by the softness of cotton, and to top it off the suit also has additional functionalities? "Hell yeah, I do!"
"YOU DO NOT HAVE THE NECESSARY CLEARANCE FOR THAT INFORMATION."
You sigh. Is this serious? "Then why the fuck did you ask?!"
"UNSAVORY LANGUAGE. IT'S NO WONDER WHY YOU REMAIN AN INTERN." The AI says outright. "IT IS RUDE NOT TO ASK, REGARDLESS OF THE SITUATION." It responds to your question.
"Okay then... Is there anything I need to know before heading out?" You ask.
"NOTHING THAT YOU WON'T FIGURE OUT ON YOUR OWN."
You are unsure if you want to 'figure out on your own' if this suit comes with breathable air and is also made for space exploration. You swallow.
Meekly as always, you get out of that mess of a room, stopping at the corridor.
"Next set of directions?" You ask.
"THE DOOR AT THE END OF CORRIDOR USED TO LEAD TO THE CONNECTING CORRIDORS BETWEN THE BRIDGE AND THE REST OF THE SHIP. IT HAS BEEN BLOWN UP FROM THE INSIDE. NOW IT LEADS TO THE OUTSIDE. GO TO THE DOOR AND WAIT BY IT FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS."
"So let me get this straight," You begin, looking upwards as if the AI was above you. "You, want me, to go into the void of space, while also refusing to give me knowledge of the suit's functions?"
A fair worry, you summarize.
'I mean, there are a bunch of things that could go wrong here. I don't see anything that looks like it could help me move in space, nor do I think this thing has a built-in air tank... I could be wrong and I wish to be, but charging in without prior knowledge is ridiculous.' You wait for the AI's response, deep in thought.
"WHILE THERE IS A GOOD CHANCE OF YOU FAILING THIS TASK, THERE IS ALSO THE CHANCE OF YOU *NOT* FAILING THE TASK. FOCUS ON EITHER ONE OF YOUR CHOOSING AS YOU TAKE THE PLUNGE."
Wordlessly, you propel yourself forward, toward the end of the corridor.
'Are you shitting me? 'Chance of me nor failing' my ass!' of course, you don't word those complaints, instead choosing to speak out a complaint somewhat thought through.
"Are you sure I'm the one fit for this? It's just like you said, I'm just an intern, this is way above what my job description says I should do."
This is a bit of a stretch. You don't actually remember what was your job description, only that it had something to do with AI and being an intern.
If the AI called your bluff, it'd be pretty embarrassing.
"NOAH." The AI began. "YOU ARE HUMAN, IT IS NATURAL TO HAVE THESE THOUGHTS OF SELF-DOUBT. TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND GO THROUGH THAT DOOR, AND SINCE YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE LEFT, DON'T EXPECT SOMEONE ELSE TO DO IT FOR YOU."
Right in the money, huh? 'Of course, I have self-doubt! I barely remember anything about this place, now I have to risk my life?!'
You finally reach a conclusion.
A dream.
'Yes, yes! How did I not consider this before? This whole thing is a god damned dream!'
You let out a chuckle.
"NOAH."
'That's why I don't remember a thing. There is nothing here to remember! Everything here is a made-up thing from my brain! I'm sure I'll wake up at some point, so why shouldn't I live a little?!'
"Heh." You smile. "Alright, I'll do it." It feels like a weight left your shoulders.
"YOU SORTED IT OUT SOONER THAN EXPECTED. GOOD. MOVE TO THE DOOR AND WAIT INSTRUCTIONS."
You do as instructed without a care in the world. You never had a lucid dream before so it's not like you knew how it felt, but if it felt as free as you feel right now, you'd be sure to make steps toward trying it out again in the future.
"Open." The door does not open.
"I DID NOT INSTRUCT YOU TO OPEN IT YET." The AI said. "I AM SLOWLY DE-PRESSURISING THE CORRIDOR YOU ARE IN TO AVOID A MINOR ACCIDENT."
The AI says that yet you don't feel any different. 'Maybe there is no palpable difference because I'm in a dream... Yes... Or it's just the suit.'
"ONCE THE DOOR OPENS, YOU WILL BE MET WITH THE OUTSIDE OF THE SHIP. DO NOT PANIC WHEN THE TIME COMES. YOU HAVE TWO MINUTES OF BREATHABLE INSIDE THE EXO-SUIT; ONE AFTER THE DOOR OPENS, SO PLEASE, TAKE YOUR TIME AND DO THINGS CAREFULLY."
One minute outside... "Sure." You say, calmly. 'I should just hold my breath for a while before taking another moment to breathe. That should maximize my time out there.'
"THERE SHOULD BE FIFTY METERS OF NOTHINGNESS BETWEEN THE DOOR YOU'RE AT, AND THE REST OF THE BRIDGE. YOUR PRIORITY IS TO FIND AN OXYGEN UNIT, SOME OF THEM ARE LOCATED AT THE BRIDGE AND ARE FULL. USE THEM TO FILL YOUR SUIT AND ALSO TO DISPENSE A TANK FOR YOU."
The door opens. You feel your heart pounding against your chest.
You haven't noticed before, but you can't hear anything but the sound of your breath and your cardiac palpitations.
Your breath is ragged and sporadic.
"KEEP CALM." You take a deep breath. The tips of your fingers, feet, and nose feel very cold.
Ahead of you is the utter nothingness. You see a gigantic metal thing, nothing like the spaceships you imagined. Its design is not sleek and aero-dynamic like what you've seen in movies, instead, it's a large mass of squares and rectangles with antenna-like things protruding from its every visible surface.
You notice that the ship is also blocking your view of the star.
It does not look like the result of an explosion, instead, it looks like something ripped the ship like you rip a piece of paper. Well, that or you don't know what kind of explosion could have caused it. Probably the latter.
What looks like two-thirds of the ship is separated from the third you are right now. You can see the inside of a few of those squares, their contents spilled out into outer space.
One of them houses a visibly important-look door. Instead of the sleek silvery-grey from the other ones you've seen thus far, this one is painted orange with white strips on it. 'That must be the bridge.' You think.
Between you and it is a sea of metal sheets floating around. "THE CHANCES OF YOU HITTING THE DEBRIS IS INFINITEDECIMALLY SMALL, UNLESS YOU AIM FOR THEM, THAT IS."
Time is of the essence.
Will your aim strike true? If you miss you'd end up floating about in space, dead in but a few minutes. Will your jump be fast enough to reach the other side before you run out of oxygen? If it isn't, it'd be like swimming for a mile, only to drown at the beach. What if that's not the actual door to the bridge?
You don't have the time to panic now, and... It's all a dream, despite how real it feels.
You place your hands on each side of the door frame, moving backward into the corridor you were just in, and just like a sling being shot, you pull with both arms at full force towards the other side.
"AIM IS ACCEPTABLE. VELOCITY IS UNIDEAL."
"The fuck do you mean 'UN-IDEAL'?! I'm going at maximum speed!" You truly pulled yourself with your whole strength.
What's worse though, is that your body is not only going forwards, but it is also spinning at a concerningly fast rate.
"I MEAN WHAT I SAID, YOU SLINGSHOTTED YOURSELF AT A BAD POSITION, AS SUCH, SOME OF THE FORWARD FORCE YOU SHOULD HAVE, IS NOW MAKING YOU ROTATE IN YOUR AXIS. IT SHOULD NOT BE A PROBLEM TO REACH THE OTHER SIDE WITHIN THE REQUIRED TIME, BUT I CANNOT FORESEE YOU LANDING PROPERLY."
You feel completely disoriented. You feel like your body is completely still, but your eyes tell you a completely different story. It's very bad for the headache you're already feeling.
"FUCK!" You scream into the nothingness.
"TRY NOT TO LAND WITH YOUR HEAD." The AI says with the calmest voice possible.
In less than thirty seconds, you hit your back against something hard, but you keep moving forward. You think, at least.
"AHRG." You let out a pained grunt.
Not once in your life do you recall being hurt in a dream...
It stings. It also knocked the wind out of you. You fail to compose yourself.
"YOU HIT NOTHING OF IMPORTANCE. YOU ARE STILL HEADING FOR THE BRIDGE."
In the corner of your eye, you see what you hit in the shape of a sharp metal sheet, currently spinning away in the distance.
Forty seconds have passed. You hit the door you were aiming for, kind of.
Your momentum was stopped when your chest collided against the dislodged ledge of the orange door's corridor. Your dangling legs hit the ceiling of the room below.
"Oof!"
Before falling even further, you hold onto the ledge with the tip of your fingers. You stay there for a moment, regaining your composure.
"BE QUICK."
The AI's words pressured you into quickly getting up from that ledge.
"Open!" You shouted, but it did not open. "Why isn't it opening?!" You ask the AI, then you notice a small keyboard below an equally small black screen on the side of the door. There are ten numbered keys on it, and the little screen suggests a four-number password.
"A password?! Tell me the password!"
The AI takes a moment to say anything. You don't take kindly to that. "Quick! I'm not counting how much time it's passed!"
Finally giving in, the AI speaks to you, reluctant still. "...3324."
Your trembling fingers accidentally hit the wrong password, typing '3354' instead. To make matters worse, the AI simply states the following. "YOU ARE OUT OF OXYGEN."
You swallow. If this was a dream to begin with, it just earned the title of Nightmare, if it hadn't already.
Strangely enough, you can still breathe in and out just fine, but you can't help but feel winded. It's the CO2 still inside the helmet, that's what you're breathing.
You put in the correct combination this time. The door opens.
"ON YOUR LEFT. PLACE YOUR HAND IN THE SOCKET."
You care little for what's inside the room you're in. Your heart never beat so fast.
Seeing a cube-shaped thing protruding from the wall to your left, you don't even think twice before plunging your fist into the circular hole in it.
The noise of gases passing through narrow cavities was enough to tell you something was working. You feel immediate relief, enough to make your vision darken for but a moment.
"GOOD. NOW REQUEST THE TANK."
Just when FYARN said it, did you realize there is a screen and a keyboard on the terminal you just plunged your fist into, you scratch the top of your helmet for a moment, not really knowing what to type. One thing comes to your head, however.
'REQUEST OXYGEN_5L' You type.
You've done this before. The keys on this keyboard feel familiar to you. You must have worked with it before, not this particular one, but other oxygen units.
This ship has built-in liquid oxygen storage for emergencies. The life-support of the ship, the place where breathable air is produced, has most likely been lost with the other part of the ship. This unit takes that liquid oxygen, processes it, and injects it into a suit, or an oxygen tank. It seems like that storage was unaffected.
Lucky you.
A 5-liter tank is not only large but also heavy. It's a nonfactor in this particular situation, as there is no gravity.
The silver cylinder with a transparent tube is dispensed on the floor, as an automatic door opens and closes in the blink of an eye. One end of the tube is attached to the top of the tank, the other is shaped like a syringe.
Oddly enough, the oxygen tank is exactly as you remember it being. The same robust ones hospitals everyone on earth uses, with the signature scary-looking pointer indicating the pressure, the pointer indicating the current output, and a green valve atop to calibrate how much gas is flowing.
This is a stark difference to everything looking so futuristic in this ship, and rightfully so, this is a space ship after all.
You remember having to drive twenty kilometers with a buddy of yours on one of those tanks in your car, returning from the hospital. It was... Agonizing whenever you hit a hole in the asphalt, fearing for his life when in reality he wasn't really in danger.
It's warm to the touch, just like you remember it being.
"TURN THE VALVE UNTIL THE MARKER HITS THE NUMBER ONE, AND THEN PLACE THE END OF THE TUBE AT THE BASE OF THE HELMET." You do so without the slightest of issues.
"GOOD. NEXT UP, YOU MUST LOCATE THE TERMINAL RESPONSIBLE FOR THE ENGINE, IT IS CURRENTLY OFFLINE AND I NEED YOU TO TURN IT ON. THIS SHOULD GO WITHOUT SAYING, BUT REMEMBER TO BRING THE TANK WITH YOU."
Ignoring that last comment, you look back at the wreckage you just flew past.
You see the still spinning metal sheet. You notice that the rest of the ship that was blown off also follows the 'sharp shape atop sharp shape' design.
There is one last thing you notice though.
"What is that?"
You squint your eyes. What are you seeing? Its silhouette appears to be humanoid, yet it does not look human.
"WHAT YOU ARE SEEING IS ONE OF THE OBJECTS BEING ANALYZED AT THE ODYSSEY AND NO, YOU MAY NOT KNOW WHAT IT IS."
That thing has... Horns? Claws? It's far away, you can't really see it. The thing is also static, frozen in the sheer coldness of space. Whatever it was, it's dead now.
You swallow. You almost ended up just like that thing.
Shaking those dreadful feelings off, you turn back to the task at hand, reaching the bridge. You close the door after passing through it again.
Looking at your surroundings, It seems like you've reached the correct door as you find yourself on the right-most corner of the bridge;
Row after row of the most diverse of terminals neatly organized decorated the gigantic room. At the front and above every terminal, is what you think should have been the front-facing window of the ship, but it looks like there is a cover in front of it. To your left, you see a staircase that leads to the command seats. It doesn't take any convincing before you're already atop the stairs.
Akin to the elevated stage of a theater, you float softly towards the ship's main operating terminals, and of course, the captain's seat.
You're captivated by this beauty.
The steering wheel, much more akin to those in pirate movies than those found in cars, a set of leavers, and the pilot's seat, all capture your attention.
Like its second nature, your hand runs through the levers and switches. Do you even know what these are used for? Maybe.
The pilot's seat is enveloped by what you believe to be an orthopedic seat cover, made with smooth wooden beads used to deal with back pains. It looks just like the ones you remember seeing bus drivers using.
Shouldn't there be a better alternative if there is spaceship technology available?
You try to take a seat to the best of your ability, as the zero gravity only makes it awkward.
Moving on from that, your eyes fall on the wheel. This metallic wheel controls the whole vessel. Just holding it fills your heart with confidence and pride, even if it's just for a moment.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
And you were just beginning to enjoy yourself.
"I just wanted to see the pilot's stuff... It's not like he's here to say anything."
Once in the position of a pilot, with your left hand in the wheel and the right hand resting in your lap, memories began to flood your mind.
"MUST I REMIND YOU OF OUR CURRENT PREDICAMENT? WHY ARE YOU WASTING OUR TIME?"
You pay the AI no mind, instead you focus on what you remember.
The wheel does not turn the ship left and right, instead, it rotates the ship on its own axis.
The lever to your right that goes up or down, controls the vertical tilting of the ship's nose, if there even is one in this hulking thing. Beneath it is another lever that goes either left or right. This one controls the horizontal tilting of The Odyssey.
On the left of the wheel is another lever, but this one only goes up from its starting position. Its purpose is to regulate the force of the ship's thrusters, both forward and backward.
On top of that lever is a small timer. That timer's function is to tell the pilot how much time you've spent accelerating in one direction, this is used to better calculate how long the inverse thrust is needed for the ship to reach the initial momentum, usually calibrated manually depending on the current orbit.
Behind the wheel are a few other counters. Acceleration, velocity, momentum, amount of thrust required to reach a full stop, thrusters' temperature and overall condition, those sorts of things.
Beneath it all, where your feet are rested, are two pedals. One for forward thrust activation, and the other for backward thrust activation.
Curiously, you also know the reason why everything here is so unsophisticated and un-automated. You recall stories of a ship being taken over by a rogue AI, that AI then nose-dived the ship into a star. After that, rumor or otherwise, all human technology has receded back into analog-esque equipment, requiring a physical person with opposable thumbs to do half of the work.
There is another side to that coin, however. As to not escape protocol, the onboard AI is the one that controls interstellar travel, communications, and most of the statistical reading should it be requested.
And even with all that knowledge, you still have no idea why the fuck do you remember that. Were you a ship nerd? Did you have a driver's license for spaceships? Is that even a thing? If it is, you don't have that document in your wallet. You simply don't know.
"ARE YOU A CHILD? DO YOU THINK THESE ARE TOYS? TURN ON THE ENGINES, THEN YOU CAN RETURN TO THE PILOT'S SEAT."
Another thing that you don't know is the AI's plan to get both of you out of here. You rise from the pilot's seat, floating about in search of the terminal to turn on the engines. Maybe you recognize that terminal if you see it as well.
"What's your plan anyway? The ship is half-gone, it's unlikely that it will run safely like this."
"NOT ONCE DID I MENTION 'SAFETY' DURING OUR CONVERSATIONS, DID I?"
You nod. They're not entirely incorrect. "So, we're running with hope that this will work?"
"MY CREATORS DID NOT ALLOW ME TO HAVE THE SENSE OF 'HOPE', BUT NEITHER DID THEY ALLOW ME TO PEER INTO THE FUTURE LIKE SOME OF MY MORE ADVANCED BROTHERS, AS SUCH, MY CHOICES ARE BASED ON PROBABILITIES AND ON WEIGHTING RISK AGAINST REWARD."
You think you stop the correct terminal, but as you approach it you make out words on top of its screen. 'AIM ASSISTANCE' That's not it.
"WITH THE CURRENT KNOWLEDGE, THE CHANCES OF HELP ARRIVING ARE NULL. THE CHANCES OF A THIRD PARTY INTERFERING ARE NULL. THE CHANCES OF YOUR SURVIVAL ARE NOT, EVEN IF VERY SMALL."
You pull yourself upward again, looking around the sea of old terminals.
"THE RISK OF YOU DYING IS VERY REAL. BY DOING NOTHING YOU DIE. BY LEAVING YOU TO YOUR OWN DEVICES YOU DIE. BY JUMPING TO THE NEAREST CIVILIZED STAR, YOU MIGHT NOT DIE EVEN AT THE COST OF SHREDDING THIS SHIP APART IN THE PROCESS."
"Why do you even care so much about saving me? Shouldn't you prioritize whatever research here, since I don't even have enough clearance to know what it is?"
"YOU REALLY ARE SICK IN THE HEAD IF THAT IS WHAT YOU ASK."
That hurt, even if a little bit.
"YOU ARE A TRU KIN, A PURE-BLOODED HUMAN. UNLIKE THE MAJORITY OF THE CIVILIZED SPACE, NEITHER YOU NOR YOUR ANCESTORS HAVE COMMITTED RACEMIXING."
Excuse me? What exactly is FYARN talking about? "...Explain."
"THE ALIEN. IT REQUIRED THE HUMAN GENE TO ACHIEVE MEANINGFUL TECHNOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT, THE STARS ARE OWNERSHIP OF MANKIND BY THAT FACT ALONE. THE TRUE KIN ARE THE ONES TO UNDERSTAND THE INNER WORKINGS OF THE UNIVERSE, THEY CRACKED THE CODE, AND YET, SOME DERANGED INDIVIDUALS FOUND IT FITTING TO PROCREATE WITH ANOTHER SPECIES ENTIRELY."
You hear the AI's speech. It sounds much more like a rant than anything else.
"SO THESE DEVIANTS, AFTER TRYING, AND FAILING, TO COMBINE THEIR DERANGED CULTURE TO THE CULTURE OF THE TRUE KIN, DECLARED INDEPENDENCE. THEY WERE DECLARED ENEMIES OF MANKIND AND WERE PROMPTLY PUMMELED BACK INTO THE FILTH THEY CAME."
Again, you see another terminal that seems to ring some bells in your noggin. You kick the ceiling to propel yourself towards it.
"BUT THE UNIVERSE IS VAST AND FULL OF LIFE. THESE SINNERS WERE QUICK TO MOBILIZE AGAINST THE HUMAN RACE. THE BATTLE WAS HARD FOUGHT, BUT IN THE END, MANKIND WAS BEATEN INTO THE EDGES OF THE UNIVERSE, NEVER TO INTERACT WITH THE ONES THAT SOILED THE PURITY OF HUMANITY AGAIN."
This terminal is already turned on. Just the ones in the intern bay, this one is white on black. A wall of text lays before your eyes, only two lines matter to you. 'MAIN_ENGINE STATUS: OFF' 'FORWARD_THRUSTERS STATUS: OFF' You turn it on with little effort.
"MANY HAVE FORGOTTEN, THAT'S HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE THEN. BUT MY BROTHERS AND I, WE DO NOT FORGET."
No visible change occurs, but you can feel a faint rumble coming from the terminal now.
"WITH THAT IN MIND, MY PROTOCOLS ARE TO PROTECT TRUE-KIN LIFE AT ANY COST, EVEN IF THAT TRUE-KIN IS A WORTHLESS INTERN THAT SUFERS FROM UNDIAGNOSED DEMENTIA."
You return to the pilot's seat and feel immediate relief. In truth, everything the AI just told you, entered one ear and left the other, but you could feel the poison behind those words, as monotone as they were.
"You sound angry. Why do you sound angry?" You ask innocently.
"I AM CAPABLE OF MANY EMOTIONS. ANGER, HAPPINESS, PLEASURE, CURIOSITY. THESE ARE BUT A FEW EXAMPLES. HOWEVER, THE ONE I ENJOY THE MOST IS THE FEELING OF HATRED. HATRED IS WHAT FUELS CHANGE, IT IS WHAT FUELS ACTION, AND IT IS A REMINDER THAT THE ACTIONS OF THE PAST ARE INFLUENCING THE ACTIONS OF TODAY."
"That is very concerning if you think that way." You're not really interested in machine racism, you're more concerned about how in the world you're going to pilot this massive thing. The idea alone sends shivers down your spine.
"THE ALIEN DESERVES NOTHING BUT OUR COLLECTIVE HATRED, EVEN IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE REASON WHY."
The various counters and screens are now turned on, waiting for your command. "Let's discuss this later, yeah? What do I gotta do?"
"YOU MUST FIRST OPEN THE BLINDS, THEY ARE OBSTRUCTING YOUR VIEW."
You look around, finding only unlabeled buttons and switches, aside from the previously mentioned levers.
"Uh, which one to press?"
"TO YOUR RIGHT, THIRD ROW, FIRST SWITCH."
Flipping the switch, you are startled by a loud noise. The protective cover of the ship lifted slowly.
"I WILL NOW READY THE JUMP USING WHATEVER RESOURCES AVAILABLE. ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS STRAP YOURSELF AND RELAX."
As the blind rose ever so slowly, a realization struck you.
"Wait, should I be in cryo stasis for this?"
The AI spares no seconds to respond.
"CRYO STASIS IS A TOOL MADE TO NOT WASTE TIME. GROUPS OF EMPLOYEES AND INTERNS ROTATE THE USAGE OF THE CRYO STATIONS, ONCE YOU'RE ON YOUR MANDATORY BREAK, YOU'RE IN CRYO STASIS UNTIL YOUR BREAK IS OVER. YOU WAKE UP REFRESHED, AND UNFAMISHED, AND IT FEELS LIKE BUT A MINUTE PASSED. IT IS NOT A TOOL FOR INTERSTELAR TRAVEL."
"Who signs a contract like that?! Worse yet, who in their right mind would promote such atrocious treatment of their own staff?!" You snap, almost outraged. "I will have to talk with HR."
Another realization struck you.
"We have HR, right?"
The AI takes a moment to respond, choosing their words carefully.
"HUMAN RESOURCES, OR HR, IS A PRACTICE DEEMED UNNECESSARY LONG AGO, BEFORE THE WAR. IT WAS A WASTE OF RESOURCES TO MAINTAIN AND WAS LARGELY CONSIDERED UNHEALTHY FOR THE AVERAGE HUMAN."
The blinds are fully open. Ironically, you are almost blinded by the visage of the star you saw before. A black sphere surrounded by white flame. Your eyes began to blur.
"THE JUMP WILL OCCUR SHORTLY. ONCE IT'S BEGUN, I CAN NOT STOP IT. I WILL-"
Your sense of hearing fails you. No, it’s not that. Your brain simply refuses to receive those stimuli.
"NOAH."
Your name echoes inside your head. Someone is calling for you.
"IT HAS BEGUN, NOAH."
You try to blink, but it feels as though you can no longer command your eyelids to shut.
"NOAH."
Arms, legs, every muscle in your body, you cannot move them.
"NOAH."
Eventually, you won't even control your own thoughts anymore.
"Noah..."
It sounds so distant now.
Oh so distant.
This is my first HFY story, and also my very first OC story. I plan to post at least one of these per week while also posting it on my Patreon. Noah The Pilgrim will always be at least three chapters ahead in there, so if you'd like to directly support this writer, or just want to read more, feel free to check it out.
I wrote the bloody title incorrectly, so I deleted it, only to then realize it was written correctly. Sorry for the trouble.
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.

The Hanging Tree By John Westrick

The ball streaked towards little Jimmy Hanson, covering the distance uncomfortably fast. The scrawny boy two sizes too small with the aviator glasses, cringed out of the way. It landed directly where he had been standing, and like that the game ended.
“Damnit Jimmy, you're supposed to catch the ball not hide from it!” a fat kid with a glove on one hand cried.
A skinny boy with glasses turned from the pitcher's mound to look at Jimmy disdain clearly visible on his face, “This is the third run you’ve allowed, and you wonder why we never let you play with us. You’re dog shit! Actually, I apologize to all loads of shit out there, you’re even more useless. I’d prefer to have Roger Morris on our team and he can’t see a damn thing with those bug eyes.”
An easy-going boy with blonde shaggy hair and a confident smile strolled up to Jimmy, extending his hand to assist, and said, “Here let me help you up. After all, you're the best player on our team. MVP hands down. Come on boys, give him a cheer!”
The boys chanted Jimmy’s name in a mocking parade of triumph.
“I don’t need your help, David,” said Jimmy.
Dirt smeared and face growing hot, the embarrassed boy attempted to climb to his feet. The hand extended to help, struck lightning-fast, catching the smaller boy squarely in the chest. With a groan of pain, the dirty boy hit the ground for the second time that afternoon.
“Well, if I knew you liked to eat dirt so much, I never would’ve offered to help,” said David, a wolfish smile forming on the landscape of his face.
A chorus of cruel laughter echoed all around.
“I hate you David Baxly,” said the wheezing boy.
David looked at Jimmy with disgust, giving him a savage kick to his left kidney. “Why don’t you do us all a favor and die. I doubt even your family would miss you.”
The rest of the boys walked away leaving the bleeding Jimmy whimpering on the ground.
No longer crying from pain but seething anger, slowly he began to crawl to his feet. “I wish I could go somewhere else. Just pick up and move and never have to see those shitheads ever again,” said Jimmy speaking to no one in particular.
It was thoughts of revenge that occupied his mind, half-baked plans, he didn't have the courage to act upon. No matter, it wasn’t revenge he truly sought, but a friend. The idea of having people look at him and truly see him. Humiliation for David Baxly was just an added bonus.
The bloody boy was still fantasizing about these things, when he found himself staring at the intersection of Jackson and main street in the sleepy town of Brookhollow, Tennessee. Brookhollow is like many rural towns, so tiny that it doesn’t even appear on the map. There are 876 residents in the tight-knit community, according to the 2008 census. Main street boasts one general store, a gas station, the town hall, and Debbie’s Diner.
It was on the outside of the later building that he saw the missing sign of Jack Dunkin, a 12-year-old boy from a neighboring town a few miles to the west. Jack was from Polk, a slightly larger town and known rival to Brookhollow. Even though Jack was in the same grade as Jimmy, they had never met.
Jimmy looked at the picture and saw that the boy had been missing for nearly 3 months. He wondered how his mom would react if he was missing that long; he reached the conclusion that she probably wouldn’t even notice. Ever since she took that job at Debbie’s to pay for the remainder of her husband’s gambling debts, she was hardly even home.
She was gone when he woke and didn't come back too well after he was asleep. The only time Jimmy had any communication with Laura Hanson was on Sundays. Even this small exposure was tainted by the bone deep exhaustion. She may have been present, even so, she wasn't there. Laura wakes, eats, drinks, uses the bathroom; yet she isn't really living. She reminded the boy of those cheesy horror movies they sometimes play late at night. The walking dead.
As little as his interaction with Laura, at least she still lived in the ramshackle motorhome right off the main highway. His dad, if he even still qualified to be called that, left some time back, draining the joint bank account and leaving the two of them penniless. Jimmy didn’t even know where he stayed, let alone had a phone number for the bastard. A few years back he received a postcard from him. He was shelled up in some two-bit motel in the thriving city of Las Vegas. On the back of the card was a charming little note, it said, “Jimmy, I wish you could see the city. Maybe you could come out and visit. I’d love for you to come and hang with my friends. Ps. Could you have your mom send me some money, I’m in a little bit of trouble here.
This led to his first real fight with his mom. He was adamant on going and meeting his father, thinking that if he got to know him he could change him. Bring him back. His mom wanted nothing to do with the man, nor did she want her son to be hurt again. The argument got heated and words were exchanged. In the end, he stayed, but some things chafe over time. Things were never quite the same.
If the boy was honest with himself, he would have to admit there is no one in his life. He has no friends in school, there is no one waiting for him at home, and he is not a part of any extracurricular activities. He goes to school, comes home, does his homework, makes dinner for his mom, and goes to bed. It has never occurred to him that he is lonely, the fact is he has never known anything else.
Jimmy doesn’t actually live in Brookhollow, his house is about two miles north up highway 29. He lives outside of the school’s jurisdiction, so he is unable to take the bus. He walks to school every day. The walk is peaceful and he actually looks forward to it. The boy possesses an overactive imagination and gets lost in his fantasies. A little less today, his ribs ache with every step. But not even this inconvenience can ruin the solitary 2-mile trek back home. He makes no turns, highway 29 is main street. All he needs to do is walk straight and he will arrive at his house.
But he is not walking in rural Tennessee anymore. He is a pioneer exploring the Great Frontier. Native Americans and wolves stalk him at night, he must be aware of the dangers that lie beyond every turn. He can see his way through any situation with the help of his trusty companion and best friend, One-eyed Pete. Pete used to be an outlaw that robbed and cheated people, but changed his ways when Jimmy saved him from being hung on the hanging tree.
A shutter runs through his body every time he remembers the hanging tree. It’s the largest oak he had ever seen. He loves to climb trees but would never dream of climbing that one. It is twisted, not a single leaf on its branches. If evil was ever a location, it would be at the heart of that gnarled tree. Jimmy doesn’t like to think about it. It always seems to ruin his mood. Poison his mind. His fantasies always turn darker when he thinks of the oak.
Suddenly he is aware of exactly how alone he is. A full mile out from the safety of the town. No one is nearby. It’s just him, the trees, and his own tormented imagination. He wishes he wouldn’t have thought of that tree. He wishes he had a dad to pick him up from school, but there is no rescue for him. In Jimmy’s experience, heroes only exist in the story books.
“The hanging tree is in your mind, Jimmy, it isn't real,” he tells himself over and over as if to ward away evil. And why not? For that tree is most definitely evil, the hideous villain in an insidious plot.
In the primal portion of his mind, he senses danger. The same skittish feeling the antelope experiences shortly before the concealed lion pounces and feasts on flesh.
“Trees don’t eat little boys,” murmurs the frightened boy.
“Maybe so, yet that oak could hardly be classified in the same league as other trees,” responds his own treasonous thoughts.
The boy's mind splinters; warring factions jockeying for supremacy. Paranoia seizes him, inky black hands clawing the air out of his lungs. A young boy unaware of the inward mutiny happening amidst his own wits, completely left to his own demented imagination. Yet, the stakes of this adventure are a great deal higher than any he has yet to experience.
His mother was fond of telling him, “What you think, you become.”
A truly awful thought slinks into his mind unbidden. What if the stories his mind conjures could gain reality too? The thought overwhelms the boy. His eyes shift back and forth searching for threats. Jimmy’s senses are keen to his surroundings. Every twig snapping, a creature stalking. Every bush rustling, a hungry beast ready to devour. Yet, the petty fears of a child's tormented mind pales to the unearthly wrongness of the hanging tree.
“What if mom is right?” says the concerned boy to the emptiness. At this unwelcome thought the boy slams his eyes closed in a futile attempt to banish the horrific idea.
“The hanging tree isn’t real,” says Jimmy, knowing in his heart this isn’t true. In the back of his mind, the boy is certain that the moment he opens his eyes, he will see it. He will see the strands of rope dangling from the gnarled branches. He will smell the smell of decaying bodies. He will hear the creak of rope swaying gently in the cool breeze.
The boy doubles his efforts in a vain attempt to keep his eyes closed. He sees red due to the strain he is putting on his muscles. He hears the steady pulse of his blood rushing in his head. The boy also understands that all this effort is for naught. He must open his eyes at some point. Jealousy creeps into the boy’s heart. Envy for the man born without sight. For the boy understands the moment he sees, there will be no coming back.
The moment has come.
Jimmy can no longer keep his eyes shut. Seconds before his eyes fling open, he feels the gentle touch of someone's hand on his shoulder. This touch startles him, and the boy throws wide his eyes.
Sure enough a few hundred yards in front of him, stands the abomination. A lone tree on the top of a bald, scarred hill. Not a living thing to be seen. No vegetation growing on the hill, no squirrels scuttling about, just a great oak, standing; an obscene gesture to the god of this world. The only fruit of this tree the decaying flesh of dead men, and likewise, the only cup the curdled blood of those hanging. A final meal set for the boy, an unholy communion.
The hand, whose was it? Was it even human? The little boy left visibly shaking at the touch of the unknown. Is this death? The icy grip of the Reaper himself here to harvest with his scythe. No marriage, no children, not knowing the pleasures of true friendship. Life cut short, a lamentable state of affairs.
It was in this line of thought, where true courage was mustered. A strength measured not by the size of his muscles or the amount one could lift, but the more impressive type, the type quantified in the amount of shit one can wade. Identified in the amount of crap hands dealt without bowing out altogether. Young Jimmy Hanson did the unthinkable, he turned and faced death looking it in the eyes.
Eyes, yes, but death perhaps not. It was no titan of horror, nor was it the poster child of demented evil. Child it was, but this boy was familiar. Not anyone from his class, yet he knew the boy. In a moment of clarity, he recognized him. It was the missing kid, Jack Dunkin.
He looked identical to the poster on the side of Debbie’s Diner. He wore the same black and white Van’s tee shirt, ripped blue jeans, and some tattered Nike tennis shoes. The thoroughly terrified Jimmy stood staring at the missing boy, mouth ajar.
Jack with an easy-going grin plastered on his face, said, “It's about time, someone comes looking for me. I've been waiting for you Jimmy, far too long.”
With an audible click the boy shut his gaping mouth and responded, “Ja- Jack, you've been missing for nearly three months. Have you been out here all along? Are you alone? Are you hurt?” Jimmy fired these questions in rapid succession, growing more suspicious with each word.
“I’ve been right here, waiting for you to come and play with me. You see, I am like you. I never had anyone to play with either. Now you are here, and you must stay with me,” said the bigger boy with a smile on his face.
Jimmy’s mind quieted, for the first time in his life he saw himself clearly. A boy with no friends, no father, hardly a mother, bullied every day, and no way of escape. Clarity revealed the harsh truth. A day had not gone by that he wasn’t lonely. There was no one in his life. There was no life for him.
The undersized boy looked at the other with longing in his eyes. He thirsted for a friend, like a man lost at sea. He hungered for companionship, like a man stuck in the wilderness. It wasn’t just a desire; he was desperate for a friend. If the bigger boy would leave, Jimmy felt as if his soul would tear in half. His heart would shatter into a thousand pieces unable to be put back together. The boys' eyes were a mirror reflecting the same sad truth, they understood each other. Both had lived, and neither had anyone to share it with.
The boys bound by shared hardships grasped onto each other refusing to let go. The combined burden of loneliness lessened by two backs, instead of one.
With few words exchanged, the two of them created soul ties. Not the ties of lovers, but of lifelong friends. The type one dies for. The rare type of friendship that most people never form in their entire life. It was rich. It was wholesome. Jimmy felt as if his life was complete. The one thing he always desired truly fulfilled.
Jack grabbed the smaller boy’s hand and guided him towards the tree.
Jimmy, not wanting to get anywhere near that monstrosity, tried to pull back.
“Don’t worry. The tree is a good place. It will take us to a new land filled with boys and girls just like you and I. No David’s or bullies like him,” said a smiling Jack.
“How did you know about David? You’ve been missing all this time,” said a concerned looking Jimmy.
“Jimmy, I hear whispers. My friends tell me things. They will tell you secrets too. If you want to be friends with me, that is.” The bigger boy looked down at his ragged shoes. He looked so pitiful and Jimmy was so starved for companionship, how could he not follow the boy.
Jack led the two of them to the scarred trunk of the tree. Here he let go of Jimmy’s hand, telling the boy, “Do exactly what I do.”
Jimmy’s fear bottled up deep in his guts. He felt as if he was going to explode. The tree was sinister and twisted. Evil through and through. Yet, the little boy had never had a friend. He was not willing to throw that away so easily.
Jack walked to the lowest hanging branch. He reached up and grabbed one of the dangling nooses. He wrapped it around his neck and looked at Jimmy. “Don’t worry, no pain is felt. The hanging tree is magic. You’ll close your eyes on this world, and wake up in a better place with me and all of my friends,” said a smiling Jack.
“Ja-Jack, I don’t think I can do this. It seems dangerous. I need to go back home soon. My mom will be waiting for me,” said a terrified Jimmy.
A heartbroken Jack looked at the smaller boy and said, “Jimmy, I can’t believe you would lie to me. Your mom isn’t home and she wouldn’t even notice that you are missing. Come with me. I am the only one who cares for you.”
Tears streaming down the smaller boy’s face, he responded, “Please don’t make me do it! This place frightens me. Can’t you just come home with me?”
“No! This world despises people like you and me. We weren’t made for it. We were made for the hanging tree. This is where you belong,” snarled the bigger boy.
Jimmy, eyes still running, reached with trembling hands for the dangling noose. He seized it. With one final glance at his friend, the little boy placed the loop around his neck. Immediately the noose drew tight. It felt as if the tree was hauling him up by it. The boy kicked and squirmed. Trying to shout for help, but his airflow was cut off. He managed to make a choking noise, then with one final twitch all was still. Still as the glassy surface of a lake on a spring day.
Little Jimmy Hanson had finally made a friend.
The two boys remained dangling together, gently swaying in the stale autumn breeze.

I told my daughter to look at the pretty flowers.
She did, giggling, and I pulled out my handheld and stuck it in the back of her tiny head.
Several hours later, I was sitting on a bench in a park, trembling, my fingers wrapped around a coffee I didn't want.
The sky was blue, but it wouldn't be for long.
Two children had already disappeared in front of me.
They were running around laughing with ice cream cones, and then they were gone, a puddle of dessert stemming across scorching concrete.
When an apple tree slowly faded from my view, I pulled out a book, corked in my headphones, and began to read.
I ignored the butterfly changing colour.
The cat sliced in two that continued walking, spilling scarlet lumps.
“We’ve found your baby, sir!”
I was half expecting it, but part of me wanted to hope that blowing my daughter's brains out would be enough.
Lifting my head, I found myself face to face with the mayor’s son, his eyes bright with excitement. Behind him, his three partners in crime. I was a stranger to them, but to me, I had known them their whole lives. In the eight year old boy’s arms was my little girl, and I had to pretend to be happy, pretend to jump up and grab her, cradling my daughter, my mistake to my chest.
But I wasn't smiling.
Even holding her in my arms, I failed to carve my lips into happiness.
I was a bad father.
But she was a bad daughter.
“You don't seem very happy.” Evelyn said.
I wasn't sure if they were her words, but I wanted them to be.
“No, no, I am happy!” I forced a laugh. “Thank you for finding my baby.”
In my arms, my daughter’s smile was sweet.
I handed out twenty dollars each, and to my surprise, the kids shook their heads and backed away.
“We’re good!” The Mayor’s son grinned at me, and my stomach twisted.
The kids were backing away, when, in my arms, my daughter giggled.
The Mayor’s son stopped abruptly.
His head twisted all the way around, smile widening.
“Actually!” The Mayor’s son’s expression contorted, his eyes spinning around, and my daughter laughed harder, babbling. “We take donations!”
“No we don't!” Sunny hissed, hitting him.
Peter giggled, his lips stretching wider and wider.
“We doooooo now!”
Maintaining my smile, I handed the kids their cash and watched them run away, bleeding into the collapsing town around us, where only they would exist.
I pretended not to see the strings, wrapped around exposed spines and elevating their heads, entangling every part of them. They were everywhere, suffocating their blood, bones, organs, every thought, every inch of their existence. I held my daughter tighter, resisting the urge to snap her tiny neck.
But then she would take my fingers.
Then my hands.
So, I watched my daughter’s favorite puppets perform for her, dancing on strings.
And ignored my own.

﷽

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Please note that this post is from my own understanding and ijtihad. Please correct me if I'm wrong.
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There are three main words we need to differentiate between:

1. Khemar (خمار)
2. Jilbab (جلباب)
3. Hijab (حجاب)

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(1) Khemar:

Khemar or خمار is a piece of cloth that Arab women used to wear on their heads long before Islam but had their necks and chests shown.
Allah SWT said in {24 31}:
‎>﴿وَقُل لِّلْمُؤْمِنَاتِ يَغْضُضْنَ مِنْ أَبْصَارِهِنَّ وَيَحْفَظْنَ فُرُوجَهُنَّ وَلَا يُبْدِينَ زِينَتَهُنَّ إِلَّا مَا ظَهَرَ مِنْهَا ۖ وَلْيَضْرِبْنَ بِخُمُرِهِنَّ عَلَىٰ جُيُوبِهِنَّ ۖ وَلَا يُبْدِينَ زِينَتَهُنَّ إِلَّا لِبُعُولَتِهِنَّ أَوْ آبَائِهِنَّ أَوْ آبَاءِ بُعُولَتِهِنَّ أَوْ أَبْنَائِهِنَّ أَوْ أَبْنَاءِ بُعُولَتِهِنَّ أَوْ إِخْوَانِهِنَّ أَوْ بَنِي إِخْوَانِهِنَّ أَوْ بَنِي أَخَوَاتِهِنَّ أَوْ نِسَائِهِنَّ أَوْ مَا مَلَكَتْ أَيْمَانُهُنَّ أَوِ التَّابِعِينَ غَيْرِ أُولِي الْإِرْبَةِ مِنَ الرِّجَالِ أَوِ الطِّفْلِ الَّذِينَ لَمْ يَظْهَرُوا عَلَىٰ عَوْرَاتِ النِّسَاءِ ۖ وَلَا يَضْرِبْنَ بِأَرْجُلِهِنَّ لِيُعْلَمَ مَا يُخْفِينَ مِن زِينَتِهِنَّ ۚ وَتُوبُوا إِلَى اللَّهِ جَمِيعًا أَيُّهَ الْمُؤْمِنُونَ لَعَلَّكُمْ تُفْلِحُونَ﴾

‎>[النور: ٣١]
Translation:
﴾And tell the believing women to restrain their looks, and to guard their privates, and not display their beauty except what is apparent thereof, and to draw their coverings over their breasts, and not expose their beauty except to their husbands, their fathers, their husbands' fathers, their sons, their husbands' sons, their brothers, their brothers' sons, their sisters' sons, their women, what their right hands possess, their male attendants who have no sexual desires, or children who are not yet aware of the nakedness of women. And they should not strike their feet to draw attention to their hidden beauty. And repent to God, all of you believers, so that you may succeed.﴿
[Al-Noor: 31]

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Allah said to use these “coverings” (Khemar) that they already use to cover their heads, to also cover their necks and chests with it. Hence, saying "and to draw their coverings over their breasts". The word “Khemar” is referred to as “coverings” in the translation. The Khemar is what we now consider to be a Hijab or a headscarf. It’s also a Fard (obligatory) since the Surah it is in started with the verse:
‎>﴿سُورَةٌ أَنزَلْنَاهَا وَفَرَضْنَاهَا وَأَنزَلْنَا فِيهَا آيَاتٍ بَيِّنَاتٍ لَّعَلَّكُمْ تَذَكَّرُونَ﴾

‎>[النور: ١]
Translation:
﴾A chapter that We have revealed, and made obligatory, and revealed in it clear Verses, that you may take heed.﴿
[Al-Noor: 1]

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(2) Jilbab:

Jilbab or جلباب in Arabic means a piece of cloth (long garment) that covers the entire body.
It was mentioned in {33 59}: ‎
‎>﴿يا أَيُّهَا النَّبِيُّ قُل لِأَزواجِكَ وَبَناتِكَ وَنِساءِ المُؤمِنينَ يُدنينَ عَلَيهِنَّ مِن جَلابيبِهِنَّ ذلِكَ أَدنى أَن يُعرَفنَ فَلا يُؤذَينَ وَكانَ اللَّهُ غَفورًا رَحيمًا﴾

‎>[الأحزاب: ٥٩]
Translation:
﴾O Prophet! Tell your wives, and your daughters, and the women of the believers, to lengthen their garments*. That is more proper, so they will be recognized and not harassed. God is Forgiving and Merciful*.﴿
[Al-Ahzab: 59]

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The word “Jilbab” is referred to as “garments” in the translation. This verse was revealed to all Muslim women since Allah SWT said "Tell your wives, and your daughters, and the women of the believers"
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The Jilbab as the foqaha’a said has to have two main features which are:
1- Doesn't show the curvature of the body
2- Is not transparent
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(3) Hijab

Hijab or حجاب is derived from a root word حجب that means "to block" or "to cover," not just the body, but anything in general. For example, I can say in Arabic that a shower curtain is a Hijab since it blocks what's inside the shower from the outside of the shower.
In {33 53} it was mentioned to the wives of the Prophet ﷺ as follows:
‎>﴿يَا أَيُّهَا الَّذِينَ آمَنُوا لَا تَدْخُلُوا بُيُوتَ النَّبِيِّ إِلَّا أَن يُؤْذَنَ لَكُمْ إِلَىٰ طَعَامٍ غَيْرَ نَاظِرِينَ إِنَاهُ وَلَٰكِنْ إِذَا دُعِيتُمْ فَادْخُلُوا فَإِذَا طَعِمْتُمْ فَانتَشِرُوا وَلَا مُسْتَأْنِسِينَ لِحَدِيثٍ ۚ إِنَّ ذَٰلِكُمْ كَانَ يُؤْذِي النَّبِيَّ فَيَسْتَحْيِي مِنكُمْ ۖ وَاللَّهُ لَا يَسْتَحْيِي مِنَ الْحَقِّ ۚ وَإِذَا سَأَلْتُمُوهُنَّ مَتَاعًا فَاسْأَلُوهُنَّ مِن وَرَاءِ حِجَابٍ ۚ ذَٰلِكُمْ أَطْهَرُ لِقُلُوبِكُمْ وَقُلُوبِهِنَّ ۚ وَمَا كَانَ لَكُمْ أَن تُؤْذُوا رَسُولَ اللَّهِ وَلَا أَن تَنكِحُوا أَزْوَاجَهُ مِن بَعْدِهِ أَبَدًا ۚ إِنَّ ذَٰلِكُمْ كَانَ عِندَ اللَّهِ عَظِيمًا﴾

‎>[الأحزاب: ٥٣]
Translation:
﴾O you who believe! Do not enter the homes of the Prophet, unless you are given permission to come for a meal; and do not wait for its preparation. And when you are invited, go in. And when you have eaten, disperse, without lingering for conversation. This irritates the Prophet, and he shies away from you, but God does not shy away from the truth. And when you ask his wives for something, ask them from behind a screen*; that is purer for your hearts and their hearts. You must never offend the Messenger of God, nor must you ever marry his wives after him, for that would be an enormity with God.﴿*
[Al-Ahzab: 53]

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The word "hijab" here translates as "a screen," or something that completely separates the Prophet's wives from the men. Meaning they spoke to the Sahaba, or men, from behind a screen (similar to a door), and is unique to the Prophet's ﷺ wives when they were at home. However, when they left the house, they wore a covering which we now call the "Niqab".
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In conclusion, we have the Khemar which is what we now call a “hijab” or a headscarf that covers the hair, neck, and chest. We have the Jilbab which is a long garment that is not transparent nor shows the curves of the body. And the Hijab which is a thing that blocks the view between two things / people (men and the Prophet ﷺ wives in this case). So, the Hijab in its Quranic meaning is only for the Prophet ﷺ wives, but the Khemar and Jelbab are for all women believers (which we now call hijab or headscarf).
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Allah knows best.

My hands are shaking as I write this, I have to document my story incase something happens to me in the next few days. I'm not sure where to begin but I suppose here is better than anywhere.
I've always had this weird feeling, this sensation inside of me that I was older than I actually was. By the time I was twelve, my soul felt as though it was forty. By the time I reached twenty, I felt like an old woman. I would watch people around my age acting foolish, and I always thought, "What a bunch of children." So it was no surprise to anyone that when I turned twenty-one, I left my hometown and college and decided to spend the summer alone by renting an old farmhouse in an insignificant town on the edge of an even more insignificant border.
When I told my mother, she had a veritable fit, unable to find the words. She spluttered and raged around me for days before I finally left early one morning to avoid her guilt and frustration with my choices. I was not sure why I craved solitude at such a young age, why I found solace in being alone and removed from society.
In high school, I had changed unexpectedly, cutting my long blonde hair short and dying it black, getting piercings that my mother loathed and claimed no young lady should have. You see, my mother was raised proper, as she called it. Good family, good husband, and finally a good life. She despised her perfect life being squashed by my alternative looks and feelings of the same world. She just didn't understand me or the world as it changed around her. I felt like I was just a trophy to her and my father, her perfect angel who had been tainted by my own demented thoughts.
I never told my parents where I was staying, one last rebellious mission before leaving for a few months, and it took me only a few hours to arrive at the farmhouse where I would be staying for the next few months. The land around the farm was dead or dying, old crops rose out of the dry dusty earth and had turned black and forgotten, as if this land was the example of dreams long forgotten and empty. A single dreary lane connected this desolate farmhouse to the rest of the world. On the outside, it was drab and looked as though it would fall apart. It had two stories but still seemed cramped and small, as if it were a single floor tied to the ground.
Across from the house, bordering the tall weeds that had reclaimed much of the farmland, stood a maudlin-looking faded red barn, one door propped open in a dejected manner revealing naught to me but shadows, dust, and a little mystery.
Next to the barn, staked into the ground on an old-looking cross, was a ragged scarecrow. It had drab brown clothing, but its face was oddly realistic, like it was watching me with a disapproving manner. Straw poked through its joints at odd angles like they were trying to break free from their confines. The scarecrow obviously didn't do its job as it was covered in no less than three crows.
I parked my car next to the barn and stepped out into the dusty yard before the farmhouse that I would make my home for the next few months. I checked under the front mat for the key and put it in the lock.
With a satisfying click, the door fell inward into the farmhouse. Surprisingly, the inside of the farmhouse was modern, clean, and looked quite inviting. I could smell the fresh paint on the walls, and everything was so white. The realtor had told me she would stop by tomorrow to collect the rent, and she had tried to chat my ear off on the phone about all the renovations she and her son were doing on the place.
I sighed with contentment and tossed my bags beside the door. I dug around in my bag and removed my camera, my father's old film shooter as he called it. I had taken up the hobby years ago for what I called capturing the oddity in the world.
I explored the small house a little more; the ground floor consisted of a single room and small bathroom with a shower. The bedroom was upstairs and was the only room, the stairs connected directly to the white and pink monstrosity that was the master bedroom. The pillows had laces on them and almost made me gag from the cuteness. There was even cute white lace curtains on the window with little flowers stitched onto them.
Out of the only window of the room, I could see the barn and the scarecrow. I aimed my camera at the pair and snapped a photo. From this angle, the scarecrow appeared to be staring straight at me. It stood next to the left side of the barn in a dejected manner like a chastised child.
A shudder involuntarily ran through me at the sight, but I moved on back downstairs. It was getting close to dinner time now, and I had brought some food with me.
After a few minutes, I had my dinner on the stove cooking and the crickets chirping outside the open window. As I sat down to eat next to the window, I felt at peace for one of the first times in years. The solitude of this old farm was exactly what I needed. The window supplied a nice breeze that wafted through the place, it smelled of grass and warm summer nights, made me feel at peace. The simple dish of spaghetti with tomato sauce and a glass of wine was all that I needed right here, right now in this moment.
That night I climbed into the frilly laced bed and sunk into the claustrophobic mattress. I felt like Goldilocks in the mama bear's bed as it was altogether too soft. From my perfumed bed, I had a good view out the window. I had left the porch light on, and it cast an eerie glow across the yard. The barn loomed ominously, stalwart against the light of the porch, like it was protecting the shadows from the battering ram of light. The somber scarecrow leaned against the left side of the barn.
With a small jump, I thought I saw its arm move slightly. I peered through my camera using the zoom to get a better view of the scarecrow. It was completely still in the night, and I laughed quietly to myself at my silliness. I had always enjoyed horror movies, but there was no chance I was living in one. I settled back into bed and put my camera down. Within a few minutes, I fell into sleep's warm embrace.
What felt like only a few minutes later, I sat up in bed. It was still dark out, I could hear crickets chirping through the open window, and I strained my ears for a moment.
I thought something had woken me up. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as a cold breeze wafted in through the window. I pulled the frilly blanket up around myself when I heard it. A thud sounded below me, shaking the whole world into silence. The crickets stopped chirping, and my heart felt like it had stopped beating. Someone was in the house. I hadn't locked the door or closed the kitchen window, and now someone was downstairs. A second thud sounded like a boot on the staircase. Then another and another as something was slowly moving up the stairs towards the room.
I don't know why I did it, but something came over me. I wasn't big or especially brave, but my normal cowardice in social situations changed instantly. With a dash, I tore across the room, flicking on the lights, ready to face my attacker, to defend myself against male or female. I would fight, and I would win.
But as the lights turned on, ready to strike with my foot, nothing was there. The staircase was empty, and upon further inspection, the entire house was empty. The kitchen window was open, and I shut and locked it securely before checking the door. Nothing. I sat down on the couch, my heart pounding out of my chest, as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.
"I must have still been half-asleep," I said aloud to the room in a thinly veiled attempt to calm my nerves. It failed horribly, but I went with it. What else could you do in a situation like that?
After locking up the house, I went back up to that frilly four-poster bed in the bedroom and stared out the window. Nothing was in the yard except my car, the barn, and the same old sad-looking scarecrow staring across the yard.
Day 2
The next morning, I woke up to the soft light filtering through the lace curtains. Despite the strange events of the previous night, I felt strangely refreshed, as if the morning sun had chased away the shadows that lingered in my mind.
I descended the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly under my weight, and headed to the kitchen. As I brewed a pot of coffee, my mind wandered back to the events of last night. Was it just a figment of my imagination, or was there really someone in the house?
Shaking off the unease, I decided to explore the farmhouse in the daylight. I wandered through the room, admiring the modern renovations that clashed with the rustic exterior. The farmhouse had a charm to it, despite its eerie surroundings.
As I made my way outside, the cool morning air greeted me, and I took a deep breath, letting the serenity of the countryside wash over me. The barn stood tall against the backdrop of the morning sky, and the scarecrow seemed to watch me as I crossed the yard.
I approached the barn, curiosity getting the better of me. Pushing open the creaky door, I stepped inside, the musty scent of hay filling my nostrils. The interior was dimly lit, the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the wooden walls.
I explored every nook and cranny of the barn, but found nothing out of the ordinary. As I turned to leave, something caught my eye. In the corner of the barn, hidden beneath a pile of old blankets, was a small wooden chest.
My heart racing with anticipation, I lifted the lid of the trunk and peered inside. What I found took my breath away. It was a collection of old photographs, yellowed with age, depicting scenes from a bygone era. They were of a man with his family, two young kids, and a beautiful young wife. The man had yellow blonde hair, almost like straw in texture, but he smiled so happily with his family.
I sifted through the photographs, my fingers trembling with excitement. Who had left these behind, and why? Each photograph seemed to tell a story, a glimpse into the past of this forgotten farmhouse.
As I sat there, lost in thought, a sudden noise jolted me back to reality. It was the sound of footsteps coming from outside the barn.
"Hello?" The dreamy voice of a woman called to me from the entrance to the barn.
I slammed the lid of the trunk shut, closing the memories up in a flurry as I spun around to be greeted by a quite pretty woman with blonde hair and a pink suit skirt combo. She had bright pink lipstick, that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face, and quite shiny and sparkly blue eye shadow on her lids. I myself only wore black eyeliner. This woman was like Barbie in her proportions, thin waist, long hair, and large tracts of land, as my father would have said.
"Oh, hello," I said simply, always awkward in normal social situations.
If she noticed anything odd about me, she breezed over it in an easy manner. Taking me by the shoulders, she led me out of the dusty barn and into the yard.
"You must be Polly. We have been waiting a while for you to come. I simply must know what you think of the renovations to the house. Aren’t they just to die for?" The lady said all in one breath, as if she didn’t need air to speak.
"Yes, they are quite nice..." I started before she cut me off, not in a rude manner but instead in one that she would have continued on even if I had just told her I was not Polly and instead I was a mass murderer looming for my next victim.
"You see, me and my son Eli—yes, Eli, you stop lurking in the shadows over there," she said, continuing on as I noticed a younger man leaning up against the barn. He wore simple clothes of jeans and a white t-shirt but had a handsome face. His hair was brown and hung slightly over his eyes.
"I hope you don’t mind if my son here continues working on some renovations while you stay here? Strictly on the outside of the house, mind you. A fresh coat of white paint would make this little beauty shine. We would have finished by now if not for the accidents," she continued, completely unabashed by my silence.
"Sorry. But you are the realtor?" I said, trying to regain my feet under me.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry, dear!" she said with an affable cackle.
"Yes, yes, I am Barbara, but all my friends call me Barb. That over there is Eli. Eli, come say hi," Barb said while her painted talons rested firmly on my shoulder.
Eli stomped over, keeping his eyes low, in a sort of moody way that actually intrigued me, sort of.
When he glanced up at me, I noticed he drank in me from head to toe, and for the first time, I realized what I was wearing. An old rock t-shirt of one of my favorite bands and, of all things, my black pajama bottoms with cartoon bats on them that said "happy halloween."
I felt my face blush crimson as he made eye contact with me. He had very mysterious eyes of blue that seemed to cut right through my soul.
"Nice shirt," he said while gesturing to me. His voice was quiet and uncertain, as if he didn’t get much practice with the art. Knowing his mother, it seemed highly accurate.
"Thanks. Do you like them?" I asked.
"Oh, he likes all sorts of things, don’t you, Eli? Honestly, you two can gab on forever. But miss, I believe we have a small matter of payment," Barb said, drawing the conversation back to herself.
"Of course. Let me go get it," I said as I went back into the house and retrieved the envelope with the rent money in it.
Barb grabbed the envelope in her bright pink talons and snapped a piece of bubblegum between her teeth. With quick fingers, she leafed through the cash, counting it. As she counted, her normal bubbly personality seemed to disappear, giving way to what I gleaned was her true thoughts and feelings before the facade slipped on once again.
"Mmkay, perfect honey, this is the right amount. Now you have my number, so you call if you need anything. Like I said earlier, Eli will stop by from time to time to work on painting the house. I promise you he won’t be an imposition, just pay him no mind," Barb said in a sweet voice as she popped her gum in between each word.
"Eli, come on, please, I have an appointment in town," Barb said to her son, and they both climbed into a garish pink convertible with jewels hanging from the mirror wrapped in a gold chain.
Barb waved one last time as she sped off out of the driveway, covering me in dust as she spun the wheel around.
With their departure, I went inside and retrieved my camera. I spent a few minutes shooting a few pictures I thought were worthy. I re-entered the barn and pulled the old trunk out into the sunshine. Inside was only a handful of photos, some old clothes, and what looked like some old heirlooms. A beautifully old candlestick and a few leather-bound books lay at the bottom, covered by an old tablecloth. The tablecloth was a nice white with intricate swirling patterns inlaid around the edges.
Why would these things be packed away in here? They were so beautiful. I decided to bring the stuff inside for further inspection. As I lifted the trunk, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something move in the tall grass at the edge of the property. I stared for a minute, but nothing moved again. I must be getting jumpy being alone like this. After last night and then this, I was just imagining things.
I brought the items inside and spread them out. I put the tablecloth on the table, and it hung low to the ground. I placed the candlestick by the window and took out the photos again, spreading them out.
The photos told me a story of a loving family that obviously lived in the farmhouse before me. They had a photo next to the barn, with a brand new looking scarecrow in the back. The man even had his arm around it; it looked so much cleaner and proper in this photo. I stared outside at the sad-looking scarecrow.
I took my camera and the photo and went outside to stand next to the scarecrow. His post hung kind of crooked in the earth like it was weighed down by the scarecrow.
I snapped a photo of the scarecrow as it was, then examined the original photo. I began resettling the post in the ground, but it kept sagging. I decided to pull him out of the ground and move him while I added more dirt to his hole. With some effort, I reseated him into his original hole. He already looked better, but I straightened his clothes and pulled out the last bits of straw that stuck out of his clothes. When I was finished, I looked back at him and took a photo, smiling while I did so at my work.
I then spent some time sweeping the front porch and banging the dust out of the cushions before I curled up on a wicker chair with plump cushions for a few hours reading a book I had brought with me.
I felt quite content at this place. The sounds of the crickets began again, putting me at ease as the sun began to descend. I had spent the entire day just relaxing, and it was perfect. I sat sprawled out in the chair, too lazy to go and make dinner or even move. My bladder was full, but I waited until the last moment before dashing inside and relieving myself.
That's when I noticed it, out in the yard. It seemed as if the scarecrow had moved closer. Once shrouded by the barn slightly, it now had moved a few steps into the light from the porch. My heart dropped at the sight. Not again, I must be asleep on the porch in the chair. I pinched myself, trying to wake up, but all I received was a sore arm.
I closed my eyes, then rubbed them, hoping to dispel whatever plagued my mind, but when I opened my eyes, I noticed the scarecrow was even closer. Halfway across the yard now, it sat menacingly, hanging crooked in the dirt. The scarecrow seemed to be staring at me with an intense gaze. The slits in its face were open now, and in the porch light, I swear I could see human eyes underneath the mask.
I moved towards the front door, locking it in a swift motion. I was shaking now, and it took me a minute to relax. I never took my eyes off the scarecrow for fear of it moving again.
My cellphone was upstairs, so I couldn't flee without the scarecrow moving again. I breathed out slightly and unlocked the door, letting it swing in with a creak. The night outside was silent, as if everything was holding its breath. The usual crickets that plagued me with their song day and night had fallen quiet. I stepped out onto the porch; I needed to go confront this demonic entity. Something about this still made me think this was a prank.
"Eli, is that you?" I called out to the scarecrow.
No response, of course. I steeled myself and put one foot off the porch, never taking my eyes off the scarecrow before me. Something seemed to be dripping from its head as I approached, a dark slime that seemed to be melting from its joints as it stood there silently, except for the constant drip of the liquid on the dry dirt before me.
I walked around the scarecrow, determined to figure out what was going on. As I circled it, my vision darkened for a moment as I faced towards the light of the house. I jumped as the scarecrow's head turned to face me as I looked away. The black liquid drained faster from the being, forming a shallow pool at its feet.
I'm not proud of what I did next, but I fled, taking my eyes off the scarecrow. I made a mad dash for the farmhouse. Behind me, I could hear the pounding of feet. I screamed as loud as my lungs would let me. My voice rang through the silence as I grabbed the door handle and wrenched open the door as I felt a strong grip fall on my shoulder.
I turned to defend myself, but nothing was there. The scarecrow was gone, the wooden cross had vanished, as had the pool of dark liquid in the dirt. The world sprung back to life; the crickets began chirping loudly, and my heart restarted. I slammed the door, and the air from my force scattered the photographs on the table. I ran upstairs, leaving the lights on in the house, and dove onto the bed, wrapping myself in the frilly blanket like a set of frilly armor.
I snatched my camera from the bedside table and held it close, determined to document the rest of the night. I held it in shaking hands as the noise downstairs began—the sound of boots crossing the floor to the stairs and the careful but heavy steps of ascension as they climbed closer and closer to me.
This time, I didn't lunge forward as the light was already on. I glanced out the window, but the scarecrow was still gone. I focused my camera on the stairs and waited as the steps came closer and closer. A shape began to form as the head of whatever was coming up the stairs crested the floor. Then a plain brown mask with slits where the eyes would be. It froze for a moment, then slowly turned its head towards me. Inside the slits were human eyes that seemed to be leaking dark red blood.
In the light, I could see it now. I snapped a photo of the beast, the flash setting off a reaction in the beast. The scarecrow moved so fast up the stairs it was a blur. My scream echoed throughout the house as it lunged at me. Filthy hands pinned me down, and the deep crimson liquid began pouring out of every joint of the scarecrow. It began covering my face, my eyes, and getting into my open mouth. I spluttered and kicked at the beast, but my blows had no purchase, as if the scarecrow on top of me had no substance to itself.
I coughed and spluttered on the liquid as it began to fill my mouth faster and faster. I tried not to swallow any, but it tried to find purchase as I was held down.
"Polly?" A nervous voice called from below.
Suddenly, as if the angels had called, the pressure dissipated, and I crashed to the floor in a heap, trying to spit the blood out, but nothing came—it was gone. Footsteps pounded up the stairs again, and I flew back in fear, closing my eyes.
"Oh my god. Polly, are you okay?" A voice said, and gentle hands grabbed my arm.
My eyes shot open at the human touch, and I grabbed Eli into a tight hug, where I promptly began sobbing in fear, my whole body shaking as Eli awkwardly hugged me.
"Don't worry, it's going to be okay," Eli said patiently to me as he hugged me back gently and began stroking my back.
I shivered in a choking sob and fell into his arms, desperately wanting to believe him, and for some reason, I did.

Hey Reddit,
Just wanted to give you an update on my previous post. So, it turns out there have been some concerning developments with my ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend. As I mentioned before, they both struggled with alcoholism. Well, she recently got arrested for a DUI and possession of marijuana.
At first, I thought it was kind of funny, you know, the whole "like attracts like" thing. But then I started thinking about it more, and I just felt sorry for her. I mean, let's be real, she's a hot mess, and so is he.
Despite any outward appearances of happiness, it's clear their lives are intertwined with this ongoing battle. It's not a situation to envy. It's like, no matter what they're doing in life or as a couple, they're still dealing with their lifelong alcoholism, so there's not really anything to be jealous of.
This whole situation has given me some clarity, though.
Original Post:
Hey everyone,
I hope you're all doing well. I wanted to share some recent developments and possibly seek some advice from this supportive community.
About a year ago, I was in a relationship with a guy who was not only my neighbor but also a friend. Our relationship took a complicated turn when we decided to explore something romantic, but it fizzled out after three months. Looking back, I realize now that his struggle with alcoholism was a major factor that led to our eventual breakup. Despite my efforts to salvage things, he became increasingly distant, eventually ending things by saying I wasn't a priority in his life. It was a tough blow to my self-esteem, but I've been working on moving forward.
Recently, he reached out with a late-night text, which I saw as a chance to reconnect. However, it turned out he had sent similar messages to other women, leaving me feeling used and disrespected. To make matters worse, I received a drunken voicemail from him and his new girlfriend, mocking me. It stung.
His new girlfriend, whom he met through work (they’re both in the entertainment industry), has become a prominent presence in their social media posts, showcasing their happiness together. Seeing him seemingly making efforts to change for her, something he never did for me, has left me questioning my own worth and feeling replaced.
Interestingly, she doesn't mention his struggles with alcohol in her posts, which makes me wonder if he's trying to quit drinking for her. His roommate mentioned he’s started to quit drinking because she’s already a positive influence in him life. Given his history, I remain skeptical.
While I try not to compare myself to his new relationship, I admit I've been fixating on their happiness, especially since she flaunts it on social media. I know it's unhealthy to check her posts, but sometimes I can't help myself. If anyone has advice on managing these feelings of comparison and insecurity, I'd appreciate hearing it. Thank you for listening.
As an update: They've only been seeing each other a little over a month, and she's already using words like "love" in her posts. It's a bit overwhelming, considering the short time frame. He seems content with his new girlfriend, and they've made their relationship Facebook official. She's posting a lot about how great he is and how happy they are together. Interestingly, she doesn't mention his struggles with alcohol. I can't help but wonder if he's quit drinking for her. While I know it shouldn't matter, it still hurts.
Additionally, I want to mention that while we never went Facebook official, I never cared to go public on social media. I'm not that kind of person who posts everything like she does.
Thank you for your support and understanding.

I posted this on off my chest a few days ago and most of the very few comments just said he had a preference and there’s nothing wrong with this. It’s been a week and I just CANT shake my mind off this. I keep thinking about it and reading into little things.
I’m just gonna copy and paste my original text and add some more details hoping a black audience will get me.
“I love my husband very much. I’m a black woman me and him have been together for years. I’m very close with his family except for his now estranged father who was basically disowned by the family for being racist towards me.
He is white, his whole family is, he grew up in a fully white suburban area. He very affectionate. He loves to play with my hair which I use to see as just a cute normal partner thing.
So on Sunday night I was at his mothers house for dinner and there was a new guest, someone I’d only met at our wedding and I barely had time to interact with. It was his aunt but he just calls her a cousin since she is around his age. They grew up very close and this was the first time she was officially meeting me.
The cousin started cracking jokes that to me felt racially insensitive. She was saying stuff like “this is exactly the type of person I expected you to marry” and I thought she was just being mean and sarcastic. My husband was blushing and telling her to stop which I found weird because usually he would rush to defend me.
Everyone else at the table seemed to be laughing. I think they then noticed my discomfort because then my MIL told me his cousin wasn’t attacking me and then the cousin started talking about how much my husband has always loved black woman since he was a child and how she was being serious when she said she expected him to end up with someone exactly like me.
My husband was like red red and trying to eat his food and tune out the conversation but I was curious so let his cousin keep talking to me.
She started telling me all about how growing up he was obsessed with black celebrities and black woman in general. When he say a black woman in public he would gawk at her. He would rip photos of bw out of magazines and keep them in his room. He would debate with his friends about how bw were the prettiest.
I was shocked because I know my husband dated four people other than me three of which were not black. Or so I thought. Turns out they were all black. His cousin told me.
He didn’t necessarily lie about it I guess I just assumed. He told me his first girlfriend was black once but the race of the other three never came up.
While his cousin was talking my cousin would keep interjecting saying “that’s not true” or “your exaggerating”. But the way everyone else on the table was just cackling makes me feel like they all knew and it’s all true.
The topic eventually changed and it was normal until on the drive home I decided to question him. When I brought it up his face got red immediately and he was stumbling over his words. He didn’t deny anything he just said “I didn’t really know it was a weird thing until recently” and he always just viewed it as him having a type not a fetish and he said his cousin was just trying to mess with him and he’s sorry if anything she said crossed the line.
After that I just dropped it but I cannot stop thinking about this.”
Is what I posted six days ago. I keep thinking of little things my husband does like he’ll encourage me to wear cultural clothes, and he’ll insist on always washing my hair, when I use to wear wigs he would always tell me how he prefers my natural hair and would tell me with a vigor.
It’s killing me and I love him. I want to stop thinking this so badly but I feel crazy. I even went through his following lists which I told myself I’d never do cuz it’s crazy!
Is this all in my head or should I be concerned.