Last week one of my shift supervisors came in with the cold after calling in sick for just one day. He came back to work after just one day of calling out. Although he wore a mask on the floor, he would take it off while he was in the back. At one point I went to the back to restock something and he coughed as I passed by, without covering his face. As a result, he got three partners sick including myself, and I'm still dealing with a really bad cough. I was able to take two days off but came back today, of course wearing a mask. Today he came in and was still audibly sick and coughing this time without a mask on the floor.
As someone who tries to manage a small business, goes to school, and work for the worst coffee company in the world, I absolutely don't have time to be sick and here I am still trying to get over it.
I spoke with my SM about this, but she claimed that she can't force a partner to wear a mask, and if the partner goes through the COVID check-in saying they're fine, then she can't do anything about it.
Has anyone else ever dealt with this before, and how did you deal with it because I absolutely hate being sick.

Greetings survivors!
New Beginnings will be launching a all new ASE 5 map cluster later this month! We graciously invite you to join us as we finish up beta testing and prepare for our community launch party! If your looking for something new and fresh in ASE then we might be exactly what your looking for!
With enhanced endgame content that brings purpose and reason for dedicated endgame breeding with powerful overworld custom bosses that's promised to put your maxed breeds to the test, these challenging bosses come in 1 of 3 tiers, but you will need good compisition, maxed stats, and capped saddles to down the highest tiers!
We also have a very large database of quests that will reward you as you play and reach milestones in your adventure while also giving you something more to chase after well into end game.
Occompanying these wonderful features to bring a new and fresh endgame atmosphere we also have a variety of admin hosted server events to keep your time with us as fun and enjoyable for months and years to come!
We would love to share our launch and experience our new beginning with you, and offer a lot for both battle harden veterans and new players alike with a very noob friendly enviroment that understands all too well waking up on a unknown world for your first time. So join us as we push forward through beta testing and be sure to be there for our launch party!
```Mod lists:```
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3185473028
```Server settings:```
3x XP
5x Harvest
10x Taming
30x Breeding
30x hair growth
4x crop growth
Boosted player stats!
Weight 15x
Movement speed 5x
Fortitude 5x
crafting 5x
water consuption 0.5
Food consuption 0.5
Wild dino Food consuption 1.5
Tamed dino Weight 15x
Tamed dino movement speed 5x
```Plugins used:```
ArkShop
ArkShopUI
LethalQuests
ServerEvents
Permissions
RconScheduler
ItemsPlus
SafeZones (Event Map TBA)
Discord: https://discord.gg/CWYHK3BUvP
Salty Carrot #9775
DM me if you have any questions, always glad to assist!
~Happy Hunting!

I am researching for an alternate history worldbuilding project I have in mind. I am curious as to why Imperial Germany did not do more with the ethnic and separatist tensions in the USA and the warring factions in Mexico to keep the USA busy during WWI?
If we factor in the mistreatment that German-Americans were already experiencing, it makes sense to exploit that dissatisfaction and any Imperial loyalties to stir some trouble.
Given the conspiracies Imperial Germany had with Ireland (and India), it makes sense to reach out to Irish-Americans (especially veterans of the Mexican-American War who defected to Mexico) to offer them Irish independence if they shift US opinion or even leave the USA to hassle the British during the Rising or after it.
The annexation of Hawaii is still fresh. Should Germany attract Hawaiian monarchists/nationalists, it could weaken the USA and entice Japan to move to the Central Powers to extend its influence into a friendly Hawaii.
Especially in light of how well former slaves and freed black folks fought in the Civil War and during the Haitian revolt, it would make sense to at least pretend to (or to gamble and actually) support black people in gaining an independent state in North America (especially a client state).
Similarly, there are hundreds of indigenous nations in the USA that could see a chance for greater sovereignty in a Central Powers world order that would ostensibly and perhaps even mostly actually content itself with proper dominion over just Europe and Africa.
Then there are the Aztlan separatists, who would either help secure Mexico through merging their aspirations, or at least hassle the USA.
Should they be reticent to support black or indigenous people (at least exclusively: the more tension, the merrier), there are neo-confederates who probably share their racist views and would leap at the chance to have the South rise again and cooperate in plundering Africa.
Was all that just not on their radar, not possible, or what? Please break it down for me. If you can, please give me any reading or video recommendations to help me out.

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

3.0. THE THIRD BUDDHIST COUNCIL:

Venerable Moggaliputta Tissa Thera led the 3rd Buddhist Council of Theravada School. That was not a schism as the outsiders were not the true members of the Sangha. However, the king supported them like the members of the Sangha.

Because it helped promote tolerance and mutual respect, Asoka desired that people should be well-learned (bahu sruta) in the good doctrines (kalanagama) of other people's religions. [The Edicts of King Asokaan, English rendering by Ven. S. Dhammika © 1994]

King Asoka was supporting everyone who claimed he belonged to the Dhamma-Vinaya community (the Sangha) established by the Sakyamuni. However, they did not join the Dhamma-Vinaya community, nor know, nor care the Buddha's teaching.
Venerable Moggaliputta Tissa Thera determined that "the Vibhajjavāda alone contained the teaching of the Buddha."

Rest of the monks who were true believers, told about the doctrine of the Buddha, that it was Vibhajjavāda i.e. the religion of analytical reasoning. This answer was supported by Moggaliputta-Tissa who was present there. He told that the Buddha was Vibhajjavādin (analyser). The Thera was made the gurdian of the Order. To purify the Sangha, the king requested to hold the Uposatha ceremony.

Uposatha

uposatha : [m.] Sabbath day; observance of 8 precepts; biweekly recitation of the Vinaya rules by a chapter of Buddhist monks.
Mūḷuposatha sutta (AN 3.70), (Bhikkhu Bodhi)

“There are, Visākhā, three kinds of uposatha. What three? The cowherds’ uposatha, the Nigaṇṭhas’ uposatha, and the noble ones’ uposatha [...] (3) “And how, Visākhā, is the noble ones’ uposatha observed? The defiled mind is cleansed by exertion. And how is the defiled mind cleansed by exertion?

The mentioned uposatha ceremony is for the monks to recite the Vinaya rules. It cannot be observed with the participation of the public, including the monks (and priests) from other religions.

[Uposatha (Thanissaro Bhikkhu)] The monastic observance may be held in one of four ways, depending on the size of the Community in a particular territory: If four bhikkhus or more, they meet for a recitation of the Pāṭimokkha; if three, they declare their mutual purity to one another; if two, they declare their purity to each other; if one, he marks the day by determining it as his uposatha. In addition to these regular observance days, the Buddha gave permission for a Community to recite the Pāṭimokkha only on one other occasion: when unity has been reestablished in the Community. This, the Commentary says, refers only to occasions when a major dispute in the Community has been settled (such as a schism—see Chapter 21), and not to occasions when the uposatha has been suspended for minor reasons. Thus there are two occasions on which the bhikkhus are allowed to meet for the uposatha: the last day of the lunar fortnight and the day for reestablishing unity.

The public uposatha is open to everyone, including non-Buddhists. The participants are expected to observe a set of uposatha sīla, either 8, 9 or 10 (aṭṭha-sīla, navanga-sīla or dasa-sīla).
uposathika : [adj.] one who observes [uposatha] precepts.

Aṭṭha-sīla 8 (Uposatha, Uposatha-sīla): 6. Vikālabhojanā veramaṇī； 7. Naccagītavāditavisūkadassanā mālāgandhavilepanadhāraṇamaṇanavibhūsanaṭṭhānā veramaṇī； 8. Uccāsayanamahāsayanā veramaṇī;

On the basis of not-Dhamma as ‘Dhamma’… Dhamma as ‘not-Dhamma’… not-Vinaya as ‘Vinaya’… Vinaya as ‘not-Vinaya’, Emperor Asoka expelled the non-Vibhajjavādis who could not observe the uposatha, including the Sarvāstivādis, from the Sangha.

[Schism (Thanissaro Bhikkhu)] Ven. Upāli: “‘A split in the Community, a split in the Community (saṅgha-bheda)’ it is said. To what extent is the Community split?” The Buddha: “There is the case where they explain not-Dhamma as ‘Dhamma’… Dhamma as ‘not-Dhamma’… not-Vinaya as ‘Vinaya’… Vinaya as ‘not-Vinaya’… [...] a light offense as ‘a heavy offense’… a heavy offense as ‘a light offense’… an offense leaving a remainder as ‘an offense leaving no remainder’… an offense leaving no remainder as ‘an offense leaving a remainder’… a serious offense as ‘a not-serious offense’… a not-serious offense as ‘a serious offense.’ On the basis of these eighteen grounds they pull away, pull apart, they perform a separate uposatha, perform a separate Invitation, perform a separate Community transaction. To this extent the Community is split.”—Cv.VII.5.2

Devadatta caused the first schism on the basic of Vinaya rules. The Vajjian monks caused the second schism on the same ground. The Sangha established by the Sakyamuni was attacked several times from within.

Vibhajjavādi Dhamma Missions

Emperor Asoka sent forth nine missionaries to nine different countries to propagate the religion of the Buddha and crowned it with success... also the Bhikkuni Sangha in Aparantaka, Suvannabhumi and Ceylon.

Emperor Asoka sent his son and daughter, Arahant Maha Mahinda Thera and Arahant Sanghamitta Theri, to Sri Lanka, where the events of the 3rd Buddhist Council were recorded.
"Arahant Mahinda, who introduced the Buddhadhamma to Sri Lanka, is the Redactor of the Buddhapåjàva in Sinhala Buddhism."
Sri Lanka became a foothold of the Dhamma-Vinaya Tradition. Suvannabhumi was also a foothold where Thera-vada Buddhism thrives presently.

Vibhajjavādi Dhamma Paṭisambhidā-ñāṇa

Analytical Knowledge (Paṭisambhidā-ñāṇa) allows the arahants to reason and teach in detail analytically. Understanding the nature of the Teachings of the Buddha and the Sangha, Venerable Moggaliputta Tissa Thera described them as Vibhajjavādis. That is Theravada, the doctrine of the arahants. Dhamma paṭisambhidā-ñāṇa is the ability to analytically and in detail explain the nature of reality.
The Buddha as an awakened sage is neither a theorist nor a philosopher. Theravada is not philosophy. The Buddha is an arahant.
The Buddha's disciples, who are also arahants, know the Four Noble Truths through their own observation and release from delusion. Knowing modern views and modern science is not their task. They are not philosophers and philosophical scholars. They do not claim to possess omniscience.

Titthiya Sutta (Sectarians):

[The Buddha advises the monks,] you should answer those wanderers of other sects in this way, ‘Friends, passion carries little blame and is slow to fade. Aversion carries great blame and is quick to fade. Delusion carries great blame and is slow to fade. [Thanissaro Bhikkhu]

3.1. Kaccānagotta Sutta (Right View)

Kaccānagotta Sutta Pali:

‘sammādiṭṭhi sammādiṭṭhī’ti, bhante, vuccati. Kittāvatā nu kho, bhante, sammādiṭṭhi hotī’’ti?... ‘‘‘Sabbaṃ atthī’ti kho, kaccāna, ayameko anto. ‘Sabbaṃ natthī’ti ayaṃ dutiyo anto. Ete te, kaccāna, ubho ante anupagamma majjhena tathāgato dhammaṃ deseti – ‘avijjāpaccayā saṅkhārā; saṅkhārapaccayā… L. Feer, Saṃyutta-nikāya,V. 16 —[copied from Early Buddhism: A New Definition (Vijitha Kumara, page 130)]

• sammādiṭṭhi : right view
• What is the right view, bhante?

Sarvāstivāda

Sarvāstivāda means "those who claim that everything exists" [...] the Sarvāstivādins suggest that "everything," that is all conditioned factors (dharma), "exist" and can exert causal efficacy in the three time periods of the past, present, and future. [Sarvastivada And Mulasarvastivada (Encyclopedia.com)]

The main Sarvāstivādi concept 'all dhamma exist in all three times' was familiar to the Buddha, not because He taught it, but because He rejected it.

'Everything exists': That is one extreme. 'Everything doesn't exist': That is a second extreme. Avoiding these two extremes, the Tathagata teaches the Dhamma via the middle: From ignorance as a requisite condition come fabrications (saṅkhārā). From fabrications as a requisite condition comes consciousness. [Kaccānagotta Sutta (SN 12:15) (Thanissaro Bhikkhu)]

Somehow, that concept, despite the Buddha's famous rejection, came to associate with Buddhism once again, not because the Buddha taught it, but the outsiders made it as if the Buddha accepted it.
We, too, must reject the notion of 'everything exists' just the way the Buddha rejected it. The rejection is also present in the paṭicca samuppāda, as He explains:

Imagine two sheaves of reeds the one leaning against the other. In the same way consciousness depends on named-shapes, named shapes depend on consciousness [...] birth depends on existing, aging and death depend on birth — the coming into existence of upset, grief, lamentation, pain and misery. [...] If, however, friend, I were to remove one of those sheaves of reeds one would fall down if I were to remove the other the other would fall down. — SN 5.67 [Dependant Uprising, Downbound Dependent Own-making (Dependent Origination, Conditioned Genesis, The Causal Law),

The Paṭicca Samuppāda provides two sheaves of reeds that support each other, but one of them can be removed to topple them both. When they are toppled, we cannot say everything exists. The Buddha's Dhamma, which shows us the four Paramattha, is nothing like a "dharma theory" that was created by the Sarvāstivādis.
Kaccānagotta Sutta continues:

[The Buddha:] By & large, Kaccayana, this world is supported by (takes as its object) a polarity, that of existence & non-existence. But when one sees the origination of the world as it actually is with right discernment, 'non-existence' with reference to the world does not occur to one. When one sees the cessation of the world as it actually is with right discernment, 'existence' with reference to the world does not occur to one. "By & large, Kaccayana, this world is in bondage to attachments, clingings (sustenances), & biases

3.2. Vibhajyavāda & The Present Dhamma

The Tibetan Buddhist Encyclopedia:

vibhajyavāda; A school of thought doctrinally opposed to the Sarvāstitvāda. holds that the present dharma-s alone exist. However, some among them like the followers of the Kāśyapīya, concede that the past karma that have not yet given fruit (adatta-phala) can also be said to exist.

Here is a part of Magganga Dipani by Ledi Sayadaw:

kammassakata samma-ditthi Sabbesatta kammadayada, kamayoni, kammabandhu kammappatisarana yam kammam karissanti kalyanam va papakam va tassadayada bhavissanti. Sabbe satta kammassaka: There exist such properties as elephants, horses, vehicles, cattle, fields, buildings, gold, silver, jewels, etc. Those properties can be said to belong to us in the present existence before we pass away. But when we pass away those properties do not accompany us beyond death. They are like properties which we borrow for some time for our use. They are liable to destruction during the present existence. As those properties which beings possess do not accompany them to their new existences, they cannot be claimed as properties belonging to those beings. The Buddha therefore said, 'sabbe satta kammassaka.' The only property of all beings that accompanies them is their own volitional action... [Ledi Sayadaw explains the entire thing here.]

• Venerable Mogok Sayadaw warned us to avoid sassata ditthi, the belief in permanence (nicca), 'eternity-belief'. Based on his explanation: A kamma (action) exists while it is happening between the start and the end. For example, feeding an animal: this action exists only while that animal is fed. That action cannot exist before and after that animal is fed. However, as if following the doers, the potential effect of certain wholesome and unwholesome kamma (volition) is inevitable.

Dhammacakkappavattana Sutta

Furthermore, bhikkhus, this is the dukkha ariya·sacca: jāti is dukkha, jarā is dukkha (sickness is dukkha) maraṇa is dukkha, association with what is disliked is dukkha, dissociation from what is liked is dukkha, not to get what one wants is dukkha; in short, the five upādāna'k'khandhas are dukkha.

• The Buddha introduced the Dukkha Sacca in His first sermon.
• Vedayita-dukkha: The truth is dukkha are birth, aging, death, association with what is disliked, dissociation from what is liked, and not to get what one wants.
• Bhayattha-dukkha: The truth is the constant fear of these dukkha is also dukkha.
• Due to the past wholesome and unwholesome kamma, one gets birth, aging, death, etc.
• However, Beings born in the sugati-loka do not suffer from birth, aging, and bodily pain (kayika-dukkha), as these dukkha do not exist there.
• The past unwholesome kamma do not affect these beings during their existence in sugati-loka, especially the arupa-brahmas.
• The Buddha understood the followers of Nigaṇṭha (the Nigaṇṭhas) did not know the existence of the sugati-loka. Thus, they were speculators who fell into sassatavada (eternalism) and ucchedavada (nihilism/annihilation). Details can be read here: The Buddhist Critique of Sassatavada and Ucchedavada: The Key to a proper Understanding of the Origin and the Doctrines of early Buddhism (Y. Karunadasa).
• In the Devadaha Sutta, the Buddha pointed out the mistakes of these Nigaṇṭhas.

Devadaha Sutta (the Law of Kamma)

[MN 101] “‘So, friends, it seems that you don’t know that you existed in the past, and that you did not not exist… you don’t know what is the abandoning of unskillful qualities and the attainment of skillful qualities in the here & now. That being the case, it is not proper for you to assert that, “Whatever a person experiences—pleasure, pain, or neither pleasure nor pain—all is caused by what was done in the past. Thus, with the destruction of old [kamma] through asceticism, and with the non-doing of new actions, there will be no flow into the future. With no flow into the future, there is the ending of [kamma]. With the ending of [kamma], the ending of [dukkha]. With the ending of [dukkha], the ending of feeling. With the ending of feeling, all [dukkha] will be exhausted.” (Thanissaro Bhikkhu)

• If the present is completely conditioned by the past [kamma] and if we could not break that condition to do new kamma in a condition not determined by the past, then at this present we could not even do anything intentionally (kamma) as our action would be restrained by the past kamma.

A Vibhajjavādi cannot accept Sarvāstivāda's notion of the three times:

all dharmas exist in the past, present and future, the "three times".

Past and future exist at this present moment implies they merge with the present time. Yesterday and tomorrow are today and they are so every day without meaning one can live yesterday and tomorrow today. If one's injury healed yesterday, both injury and healing exist today, right now. For three times doctrine (Sarvāstivāda), dead people are dead, alive and exist at all stages and every moment of time. Even though one has reborn countless times, one still lives in the past lives and also the future lives. One has lived the past infinity and the future infinity. As the future has also been lived, there is no way to change the future, so what will happen will happen — according to the God one believes. After one passes away, one will relive the same life again and again countless times in the past and the future. Someone who will become a Buddha is already a Buddha. Someone who will go to hell is already in hell while living this life as a human.
Rational and irrational people, including the physicists, philosophers, writers and filmmakers, took the doctrine of three times seriously and imagined time machines.
Assuming kamma (action) exists constantly (past, present and future) constitutes sassata ditthi (eternalism). Assuming actions and their effects do not exist constitutes ahetukaditthi (view of uncausedness) — see the 8th question on page181 of this book: Milindapanha: kammaphalaatthibhavapanha. King Milinda asked many questions about kamma. The answers of wisemen and philosophers of the time did not satisfy the king. He got the answers only when he met Venerable Nagasena; see A SEARCH FOR THE LEARNED (TALENT HUNT), pages12-16.
Venerable Nagasena explained how the future is yet to exist:

Can anyone point out the fruits that a tree has not yet produced, saying: “Here they are, there they are”?” [See 3.2. QUESTION REGARDING VALIDITY OF FRUIT AND RESULT OF WHOLESOME AND UNWHOLESOME]

Real is the present; the past is gone; the future is yet to exist. That is the knowledge of the arahants.
Every action has the process of existence: birth, decay and death. Understanding anicca can abandon sakkaya ditthi.
Sakkaya ditthi is a sense with which one perceives a nama-rupa complex as me, you, he, she, it, cat, dog and so on.

Right View according to the Sakyamuni

The Buddha and His disciples visited Vesāli, the capital of the Vajjians, several times, and many arahants were made there. Saccaka, who the Buddha addressed as Aggivessana, was a famous Jain teacher of the Licchavi rājās. They accompanied Saccaka when he went to challenge the Buddha. There a famous debate on anattavada occurred, as recorded in the famous Cula-Saccaka Sutta.

[The Buddha asked,] “Well, Aggivessana, when you say that [rūpa] is self, do you have power over that [rūpa]. Can you have your [rūpa] be any different than it is?” Saccaka could not answer and remained silent [...] “Released they are endowed with unsurpassed Right View, unsurpassed practice, and unsurpassed release. Released, they honor and respect the Tathagata in this manner: The Buddha teaches the Dhamma for awakening (to Four Noble Truths), the Buddha teaches the Dhamma to develop restraint, the Buddha teaches the Dhamma for developing tranquility, the Buddha teaches the Dhamma for ending samsara (ignorance). The Buddha teaches the Dhamma for total unbinding.” (John Haspel).

• [rūpa]: The four mahabhuta (solid, liquid, gas, heat), each changes according to its nature.
• Self (atta) means the owner or arbitor of the five aggregates of clinging.
• do you have power over that [rūpa]: None of the five aggregates is self (atta).
• Vesāli became a Buddhist capital after the debate. But not all the Nigaṇṭhas were happy. Their attack on the Buddha and the Sangha never stopped. They succeeded only after a few centuries later.

3.3. QUESTION REGARDING VALIDITY OF FRUIT AND RESULT OF WHOLESOME AND UNWHOLESOME

(kammaphalaatthibhavapanha page181) 8. King Milinda said: “If, O Venerable Nagasena, with the (present) Mind-body-complex (nama-rupa) either wholesome or unwholesome kammical actions were performed where will the fruit and result of those actions (kamma) be located?” “The fruit and result of kammical actions tend to follow the Mind-body-complex, O King, like a shadow that never leaves it.” (So replied the Elder.) “Now what do you think, O King? Can any one point out the fruits which a tree has not yet produced, saying: “Here they are, there they are”?” (So asked the Elder.) “Not possible it is, O Venerable One.” (So replied the king.)

• Shadow means the potential. As long as the tree exists, the potential of fruiting of that tree exists. The fruits will be on that tree, not elsewhere. The potential never leaves the tree.
• Mahayana created the concept of Ālayavijñāna (storehouse consciousness).
  • Ālayavijñāna is also regarded as the store house of vāsanas and karmic tendencies (vāsanāparibhāvita and sarvabījaka). However, it is neither the permanent identity of a person nor a form of collective unconscious. Continuous build-up and discharge of karmic tendencies cause the ever-changing nature of ālaya-vijñāna. [Wisdom Lib]
• Compare ālayavijñāna with indestructable buddha-nature. Buddha-nature is also vijñāna/citta. Awareness is Buddha-nature.
  • [Breakthrough Sermon, Bodhidharma:] The Sutra of the Ten Stages says, “In the body of mortals is the indestructible buddha-nature [...] Our buddha-nature [the self-nature of Buddha] is awareness: to be aware and to make others aware. To realize awareness is liberation.
  • be­cause garbha (which nearly always means 'embryo' in Sanskrit) is translated by ts'ang, ( = 'womb'; lit. 'storehouse'), a certain vacuum was created in the Chinese vocabulary which the terms fo hsing and fo hsin ( = buddha-citta) neatly filled. [Rawlinson, Andrew. "The Ambiguity of the Buddha-Nature Concept in India and China."]
  • Ālayavijñāna belongs to or a part of buddha-nature (buddha-citta).
  • According to the concept of citta-matrata

THE NIYAMA-DIPANI The Manual of Cosmic Order Mahathera Ledi Sayadaw

[Kamma-Niyama] The moral order--Kamma (action) is that by which men execute, deeds, good or evil, meritorious or the opposite. What is it ? It is volition (cetana), moral or immoral. We are told in the Pali texts: 'By action, Bhikkhus, I mean volition. It is through having willed that a man does something in the form of deed, speech or thought.'

The nama-rupa process, which occurs according to the law of paticcasamuppada (Pratītya-Samutpāda), is like a tree; See 2.3. PATICCASAMUPPADA. The nama-rupa process, which occurs due to the niyama(s) other than kamma niyama, is outside the law of paticcasamuppada but not unrelated.

Naked Kassapa

The ascetic Acelakassapa put forward four theories of origination of suffering and wanted to know Buddha’s answer to them. [Dependent Origination and the Buddhist Theory of Relativity (Kottegoda S. Warnasuriya (page 154)]
"'He who performs the act also experiences [the result]' — what you, Kassapa, first called 'suffering caused by oneself' — this amounts to the Eternalist[3] theory. [Acela Sutta: Naked Kassapa]

An action was done by a doer, not someone else. However, the doer and the action (kamma) can exist only during the action is being done, not before or after. The doer happens to exist because of doing. The doer and doing exists at the same time. Action and doer don't exist outside doing or before or after the action is done.
Saying there is no doer falls into ahetukavada and probably uccedavada, too, as 'no doer' means 'nobody is responsible' to take the consequences. When the action is done, it becomes a seed that grows into a tree (as nama-rupa process) according to the paticcasamuppada law. The fruiting or consequences of volition (kamma/seed) will appear on this tree.

Of Causal Genesis [Mahathera Ledi Sayadaw (contrinues)]

Paticcasamuppada is Causal Genesis or Dependent Origination (Process). The key words are depdendent and process. The process depends on the action done by the doer, which no longer exists by the next stage of the process. For example, a sound comes out after the drummer hit a drum with a drumstick. The birth of the sound is dependent on the hitting process, but the sound itself is independent to be in the law of impermanence—no butterfly-effect here.
That is how things exist, but not "everything exists".

Hi there! My son was born 6 days ago at 34+5 due to severe pre-eclampsia. I just called the NICU for an update and would love some words of wisdom.
Our little buddy’s been doing amazing respiratory wise. Never had any oxygen with his CPAP which he came off after 12 hours, high O2 sats since he was born with no extra work of breathing. But this morning he started having episodes of desatting to the high 80s while sleeping. He’d recover on his own after a few seconds. His day shift nurse and provider said his body’s probably tired, but since he’s jumping right back up they weren’t going to put him on oxygen. He was better the rest of the afternoon. Still attempted all bottles by mouth and never desatted while eating.
I just called for an update this evening and they said after his 6 pm bottle he was desatting briefly on and off for 45 minutes. She went ahead and tubed his whole 9 pm feed (bummer, but understandable). She then said putting him on some O2 wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, it may give him some more energy.
Has anyone dealt with this? How long was your baby on oxygen for? It feels like a big setback, but we want him to get strong. I’d love to hear your stories or advice!

I mentioned in a thread here in /osr that I have been running open table games since 2013. Radiant_Situation_32 asked for a post about how I was successful doing it. I'll try to keep this as brief as possible and then answer questions in the comments if anyone has any. (If anyone is even interested.) The biggest factors in my success are the last 3 bullets. AMA I guess?

• I started with Pathfinder Society in 2013. The first time I ever played a game it was an open, public table.
  
• The first time I ever ran a game was a Pathfinder Society table. I only ran the game because the GM ghosted the 6 players that showed up to play. I went into it completely unprepared having never seen the module until I picked it up to start running it. The players helped and were very understanding.
  
• After spending some time with Pathfinder Society I decided that the rules in Pathfinder were too restrictive. I got into an argument with the Venture Captain for the area about how many people I was allowed to have at the table and never ran PFS again.
  
• I missed that open table feel so I went looking for something else. I came across Dungeon Crawl Classics. I got a free copy of the full rulebook on Free RPG Day. I read it and LOVED it, but no one in my area was playing it.
  
• I decided to steal Pathfinder Society's model and start running local open tables for DCC. (Unaware at the time that Goodman Games has an organized play program called Road Crew).
  
• I partnered with a local game store and got permission to run my game. I advertised here on Reddit in my city's local sub, I advertised in a meetup for local gamers, and I posted on Facebook in a local geeks community group. That first game 3 people showed up. 2 of them were there because they are good friends and didn't want to see me fail at this new idea. The other guy saw the ad in the geek group and decided to come out. (I haven't seen him at a game since). So my first DCC game was 3 people. SUCCESS!
  
• I enjoyed it so much I did it again a month later. That time I advertised in all the same places and had close to 25 people show up. I guess showing it was on a regular schedule made people believe in it more. I found 2 other players willing to run games and we split the tables up as best we could.
  
• DCC was so popular I expanded to doing it twice a month. Then eventually ever Saturday. The other players were not willing to run games other than occasionally, so I dealt with it. Sometimes dealing with it meant running for 14 players at the same time. It sucked. It was awful, but not a single player got turned away. (Which was with my argument with the head of Pathfinder Society was about. I wanted too many players at my table according to PFS rules.)
  
• I expanded to running twice a week at the local game store. One weekend day, one week day.
  
• Shortly after my switch to twice a month I started a local Facebook group called Reno Dungeon Crawlers. I used that to advertise and find people to play in my games. (The group currently sits at 1200 members.)
  
• I allowed other people to find players and referees in the group. This helped expand my reach. My group is by far the most popular locally in terms of finding an RPG game. We have groups running games almost every day of the week who find players in that group.
  
• Since starting the group and running games on a regular basis I've run a number of different games. Metamorphosis Alpha, Original D&D, Swords & Wizardry (several different variations), Paranoia, Mork Borg, Old-School Essentials, OSRIC, and a bunch more I'm probably forgetting.
  
• My last completed campaign was a 2.5 year OSE campaign. I had a home brew world and used the hex map from the Isle of Dread to let the players hex crawl. When we finished that campaign they had established their own stronghold.
  
• Unless I was deathly ill, or the roads were no good (we get a lot of snow here) I never cancelled a game. I firmly believe this is a huge part of my success.
  
• I never turn away a player who wants to play. Even if I have too many players I ask them to bear with me and help me make it work. People are generally accommodating.
  
• On the converse side I never don't run the game. If a game is scheduled I run it, even if only 2 people show up, I run it. We make it work.
  

The bottom line is if you want it to be successful, you have to be dedicated to it and put in the work. The only time I haven't had active, public, open play tables is during covid when the store was shut down to gatherings. The weekend it opened back up I was masked up with my players back in the store.

tl;dr: Security isn’t always a dead end. I never wanted it, but I’m in the middle of an amazing career in it.
My dad was a cop. I had every intention to follow in his footsteps, maybe more. I dressed up as a Secret Service agent for Halloween in sixth grade. That was back when you could take fake guns to school. What I thought I really wanted was a career in federal law enforcement by way of local law enforcement.
Spoiler alert: that’s not what I do 20+ years later, and I’m glad for that.
My first job out of high school was that of a part time security guard. I worked Friday-Monday, varying shifts, for a company that would quickly get absorbed by one of the world’s largest contract companies. My first fortune came from the fact that my company was contracted by a Fortune 500 company in my small hometown, and I was assigned to their World Headquarters as a “corporate security officer.”
My first day on the job was June 20, 2001. Less than three months later, the whole industry changed. Obviously.
I worked that job to pay my way through community college.
✅Accomplishment #1.
Because I wanted to go federal, I needed a bachelor’s degree, so I quit and went to college full time. Luckily, my “experience” afforded me a chance to keep working private (contract) security jobs while working on campus jobs to pay my bills. I now have a B.S. in Criminal Justice.
✅Accomplishment #2.
I still wanted to be a cop. I have always had a strong desire to help people, especially when they’re at their most vulnerable. Year after year, I tested for some of the most competitive departments in the US. One of the most competitive and progressive at the time, somewhere in Wisconsin, I made it to the Chief’s interview one year. I wasn’t hired. I know I should’ve been, and I know I would’ve done amazing thing for that community, but I wasn’t their guy, and the fact is, I’m better off for it.
I tested for police jobs for 5 years. All the while, I worked the private sector to pay the bills. Then, one day, I got an email from LinkedIn.
Subject: “Here Are Some Jobs You May Be Interested In.”
Two jobs stood out. One was a security director position at a hospital outside of Cleveland. The other was the same at the historical home of one of the most influential men in American history. I landed one of them.
In retrospect, I wish I had gotten the hospital job. There’s a lot of money in healthcare. We, as a country, are terribly unhealthy. The future of healthcare is a bright one. Brighter than the past, which is what the other job offered.
But today, 12 years later, I’m not in healthcare, and I’m more successful because of it (I think so, anyway).
Today, I’m regarded as an expert in my field (not healthcare), and on top of my salary and benefits at one of the nation’s top institutions in my field, I also make money from consulting in private security for corporations and institutions of all sizes.
I’ve never forgotten where I came from and how I got here. Front-facing teams - like so many of you - have the hardest jobs. And you get paid nothing to do it. Sadly, that’s the industry. I don’t like it, but I don’t control it.
What I do control, I advocate for. I wish it was more, though.
All I want to say tonight is that, for those of you who are dedicated and sincere in this job, your work is appreciated and noticed. I was you, I am you, and I’ve succeeded because of it. And for those of you here who are just trying to get paid, I respect you. That’s where I started, and there’s nothing wrong with that. What I hope is true, and what I am mindful of everyday, is that you get what you put into it, like most other things in life. If you take pride in your work, it will be noticed, eventually. Maybe not by your current employer or your next, but eventually it will be seen. Don’t ever feel committed to your employer because they are, in most cases, not committed to you at all.
By the way, since I’ve found success in security I have been offered jobs in law enforcement, at the local and federal level. All of my “dream jobs” were made available to me. The fact is, they can’t afford me now. I make more money and have far more flexibility - and success - in the private sector than I ever would in the public side. Sand most importantly, I get to partner with LE to support their mission and help protect people. They can come to my facilities anytime for free coffee, meeting space, events, training, or anything else they need. That fills my cup, knowing that I still play a role in public safety, even if I’m not wearing a badge.
So don’t stop trying if this is what you believe in and want to do. I know my path and story won’t be available for everyone, but you should try if you have a passion for helping and protecting people.
And if there’s anything I can do to help you on that path, please PM me.
✅accomplishment #3: success for me, and orhers.

First Previous Wiki
Ezeonwha was walking down a long hallway. The dry and plain painted walls and the pure white lighting of the lower levels of the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office helped to frame the dingy realities of those who could only afford these floors. Not even capable of having windows, these were for those who were the cheapest of the cheap or those who mingled with them. He'd passed several Guides on the way in, their claws echoing in the halls as a sign of authority in this lawless land.
Here, mediocrity was king, and he was a loyal servant. He drew his cloak closer about his neck, unwilling to reveal himself to those who weren't already equipped to see through it all. He was famous enough to be an abduction target if he let his guard down. This place was no exception, though Justicar tried to make them such. Too much security on the higher levels and too little on the lower levels. That was the way of things.
Another hallway, this one marked with bullet holes. Two contractors and a Guide were discussing the pricing of the fix project when he turned the corner. Their voices quieted to nothing, the stillness pressing down upon them with the same intensity as the false lighting. Ezeonwha clacked his jaws, giving them a low bow before continuing on his way. He saw the Guide's eyes light up with the sign of his implants getting a reading. It was another impromptu way of tracking via facial recognition, but it was an ancient practice.
Nothing was new about what the Guides did; only how many of them seemed to be on general patrol. Had Justicar hired more of them or actually done full conversions for all of them? Those arm cannons surely weren't cheap or ethical to insert into unwilling participants. And giving a victim a gun they couldn't be disarmed of was a very bad idea, even for Elders. And Justicar was better than most Elders when it came to abject stupidity. He'd likely only been dropped a few hundred times as a child versus the more likely Elder average of a few thousand.
Ezeonwha chuckled at his internal joke, heading deeper underground into the complex. He was going to a certain meeting, and it would be best not to be late. Even if the Guides tracked him, it wouldn't be negative. The group he had been approached by a few days ago wasn't a terror group. He'd looked them up. They dealt in 'freedom and liberation from all chains.'
The Eyes Of Liberty had focused upon Penny as their latest propaganda target and perhaps as a valuable ally in their fight against all tyranny. Though such a flowery message was likely steeped in idealism for the lower ranks, with more pragmatic and likely richer inner circle elites and leaders ensuring the pot would always simmer but never boil or grow cold. That was the way movements such as these managed to skirt the line between inaction and terrorism.
It was a dangerous thing to do. But these were dangerous times. If Penny left, he'd die. Someone with a grudge would kill him. It was a given, and he'd made peace with it now. He needed to get to work, to help others like him and those worse off, with just a small piece of the meager time he had left.
He was in the system as a friend of Penny, so little scrutiny would fall on him as he came and went. He had a new friend, one who was very interested in connecting to Penny.
The offer had come through his communicator, and he'd answered it given its interesting title. After a lengthy discussion about their goals for him and Penny, he'd agreed to at least have a meeting. He didn't tell them that he had a tracker from Phoebe, which would 'be impossible to miss' if things went badly. He knew the value he had, which was why one of the androids was also accompanying him under the guise of being a Sprilnav.
The android was 'walking' on all fours, its mechanical motion entirely silent. It was obscured by a wave of holograms and hard light holograms that would ensure that it wouldn't be considered suspicious beside him. His only guard was a capable one, and Phoebe had all the confidence of an AI who knew that the destruction of her android would only be an inconvenience for her.
Ezeonwha came to an unmarked door with a well-worn door frame. One knock. One pause. Two knocks. Another pause. Four knocks. He waited, and the door swung open. Eight Sprilnav greeted him warily but warmly, their eyes shifting to Phoebe.
The inside of the room was a dull red, coming from a pair of lights in the center of the ceiling that cast dark shadows near the edges. The whole room felt dark and dangerous, and the walls were lined with guns, computers, and several drones. Shelves and drawers were neatly stacked against the wall, as well as five couches and four double beds with ladder access to the top portions.
Bags of food rested atop a trash compactor unit, and the room service button on the inner side of the wall that Ezeonwha could see in the mirror was worn down to the raw metal. No paint jobs here, only grit and business. The room faintly smelled of body odor and assorted foods. Not entirely unpleasant, but also not what he'd expected from a group with sich a flamboyant name. Perhaps they worked in cell-based units. And that was another thing.
Minds were visible in the distance of the mindscape, but the people here were huddled together mentally. They appeared to be haphazard, but Ezeonwha recognized an old army-type defensive formation a mere step from each of their positions. They were more than they appeared. Though based on how their room looked, they probably weren't veterans, just decently trained.
As they walked through the doorway, a scanner activated. One of the Sprilnav, wearing a headset with numbers and letters swirling on the inner side of the visor, called out: "Phoebe android. Commando variant. Risk assessment: Certain Death. Ezeonwha. Carrying two pistols, one hidden in the pack on his left, and the other tucked inside a strap near the lower bottom of his chest."
That made them all pause, sizing each other up. Ezeonwha smiled nervously, failing terribly to break the building tension once again. His nerves started to get to him, but finally, Phoebe spoke. "Well, friends. I, for one, am happy to talk of the business of liberty. Tell us, what do you have in mind for my friend Ezeonwha?"
"It is not about him, AI. It is about the freedom all sentient beings deserve, and which we shall bring to the galaxy no matter if we are alive or dead."
"An honorable goal to strive toward," Phoebe said.
"Thank you. Your words are quite kind for your type."
"I didn't know I had one," Phoebe replied. "But thank you."
Ezeonwha turned his head toward the Sprilnav with all the fancy equipment.
"What is the best way for me and Penny to help in the fight?"
"The best way would be for you to start killing the gang leaders you come across. Barring that, have Penny ignore the graveyards, and continue freeing the slaves as she ought to. The dead have their freedom; the living need her work more."
"I agree with my companion," another of them said. "So far, Penny has done more for the fight for justice than any other on Justicar in generations, so it is a terrible thing to ask more, but we must ask. Even knowing the terrible toll it would have if she loses the Judgment, Sprilnav are at stake."
"People are at stake, you mean," Ezeonwha said. "There is no need to bring species into this."
"There would not be, but it is still a clear factor," another of them said, a female who looked more shifty in her gaze and demeanor. The Eyes of Liberty seemed like one of those groups with too much division.
"Do you disagree with each other often?" Ezeonwha asked innocently.
"Here and there," the tech guy said. "Not often enough to be a problem, and not when what matters is at stake."
"But that is the thing. How can you agree on when something that matters is a stake?"
"Is this a test?"
"Why would it be? Think of it as a genuine concern," Ezeonwha said. "To associate with your group, I have to be certain it will be resilient to change and risks escalating in the future. If the gangs cannot strike at Penny, they will pick the next best targets. Currently, that is me. If I associate with you in a way they can find out, and I assure you they will find out eventually, you all may be at risk as well. And your group's seemingly cell-based design also means large scale mobilization is difficult, ineffective, and risks severe coordination issues which cannot be quickly or safely remedied without changing core security features of it."
"You deduced all of that from context? You are smart, Ezeonwha. And have a good brain in your head. Everlasting knows we need one of those between all of us."
They all shared a laugh.
"I am not as young as I may look," Ezeonwha said. "Penny is not properly learned of the danger that faces us here. I am. The Underground will kill me when this is over. Do you want to die alongside me, all for your beliefs?"
Silence descended again. Ezeonwha kept the pressure on them when one of them stepped forward. "For freedom and liberty? Yes. I would die for that."
"As would I."
"And I."
They all declared the rest in orders that followed the patterns Ezeonwha was noticing. There were variances in their levels of belief and faith in their purpose. Each person had a different level of value difference, which meant that their lives would be worth more or less comparatively.
Cohesion was weaker, too. Not a full defector team, but likely pieces of several. Was that by design from a higher up leader, or was that just circumstance? Another thing to figure out later, that wasn't critical yet, but he would know before he truly went on any missions with them, if he did at all.
He suspected running messages to Penny would be the majority of their tasks. The quality of intelligence the Eyes of Liberty had offered was substantial. Perhaps enough for Penny to turn herself from a major annoyance to the gangs into an actual existential threat. With Justicar's swarming protection of the Fort Court and the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office, there was a limited amount of things that even the gangs could do. And if the rumors were correct, a Progenitor would be partaking in the trial.
"To be clear, if I join up with you, Phoebe would come too."
"Why would we let an AI join us?"
Phoebe smiled. "Without me, you'll die in this fight. You have trained for around 2000 days. You're acceptable combatants, as is Ezeonwha. But you are fighting in a city, and underneath it. You need to know how to keep a low profile. You need to know how to move through a crowd, get in and out. And you need to keep collateral damage to a zero, or the gangs will use you like they have others who had your purpose and were less careful to justify their 'protection' continuing. If you march in there and kill 50 slavers, if you kill a few slaves or a single bystander in the process, your credibility will be smeared. And frankly, with me on your team, you won't get blown up by an IED when you try clearing your first room in a fortress."
"IED?" One of them asked, while the rest digested her statement, going through various levels of offended looks.
"Your translator is too cheap. Improvised explosive device. Here, that can be old engines, reused oil, cracked plastic, frictional fuel bombs, circuit extruders, sodium splash grenades, as well as the more military style attacks they can pack, from small micro rockets all the way up to lower level fission or fusion bombs. Though if you're in a fight with those things involved, you're already dead."
"Why?"
"Because unless you're Elders, or holograms, a nuke will kill you whether you're right next to it or just inside the same shield. They concentrate the thermal pulse, so your bones would be ash before the pain hit your eyes."
"And what protection could you bring against that?"
"Telling you it's there before you start the attack. That is, if you listen to me. I value your lives over that of this android, but also I value Ezeonwha over all of you combined. I will not prevent him from doing this, but I will have you all know the risks involved."
"We are prepared, Phoebe. We have done much of the training you say, though we do not believe the gangs would plant explosive devices in their own fortresses. There is too much risk around that, with betrayals so common. However, the minefields we have scouted are easy to defeat with the right tactics. Perhaps you can give us a briefing on those, too?"
A challenge.
"I can, depending on how long you wish to do this for. But I have the stamina for either hours or weeks, depending on which you choose."
"What of your batteries?"
"They are of sufficient quality," Phoebe assured.
"I hope so."
Their tech guy nodded, more numbers flashing on his visor. Ezeonwha hoped he had a different way of display, like through an implant or something, for the missions in darker areas. The Underground was, by its name, not a place where much natural light was to be found. And the gangs controlled all the power systems in their territory. It was another part of the racket.
"Why aren't you guarding Penny?"
Phoebe's back straightened, a subconscious posture change to make her seem more confident. Ezeonwha caught the tactic for what it was, though without extensive knowledge of bipedal forms, it was less likely the surrounding Sprilnav knew it.
"Penny proved before a trillion eyes she's capable of fighting Elders, Progenitors, and a Dreadnaught Captain. Not to mention her immense power. I can shoot bullets, but she can literally snatch them out of the air and eat them. She has her own way of doing things, and it is a good way."
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Penny landed in the rubble and headed for the Vaquah with a trail of survivors behind her. Many of them, she could recognize the marks of slavery on, with numbers or brands on their skin or just the trauma crouching in their eyes dulled by the pain of a long life in a work camp. Penny went through the wreckage to the shield surrounding the rubble and the defining line between the rest of the city and the destruction. Several news drones flew above her.
More were arriving from various directions. The soft footsteps grew into a constant drumming sound, like a beating heart of doom. Penny marched with them, heading to the spaceport. A large medical operation there quickly rerouted many of its various branches to the most injured freed slaves.
Penny pressed her considerable psychic energy on the entire group, accelerating their healing, slowing bleeding, and generally repairing their bodies and cells from the trauma they'd suffered. But the cloud over their heads did not brighten. The atmosphere remained tense and mournful. Many of them had lost friends, family, and more. She had no right to ask them to feel any different.
She had freed them, that was all. They were not her servants. She was not their ruler.
Several of them came up to her, offering thanks in the small ways they could. Kind words. Attempts at hugs. Even offers of devout prayer and worship, which Penny respectfully declined. She knew, as did most of them, that veneration for her deeds was inevitable. She didn't want to be seen encouraging it at all, since this was a public place where many eyes were upon her.
She knew that it would be misconstrued as a threat if she did. Religions were some of the most major threats entrenched powers could face if not properly co-opted by the state to suit their needs. And here, the 'state' was a military dictatorship billions of years old, ripened with corruption, money, and the immortality of Elders sporting technology beyond any other in the galaxy.
The sky was blue with shields overhead. The Vaquah hung in the distance, its thrusters gently burning to keep it aloft. A trail of shuttles linked the massive ship with several spaceports, including this one. Penny watched the freed Sprilnav get on it one by one, promising themselves to a new life aboard her ship. Technically, they were citizens of the Autonomous Peoples' Stars.
That protection, Penny knew, was why the Vaquah and its innocent inhabitants were still intact. Elders already had hired mercenaries to attack it. They'd failed, thanks to Rimiaha and Penny, but also the defenses of Kashaunta's Grand Fleet when it was in higher orbit. Kashaunta, despite her willingness to use Penny as she would, also had a certain intelligence and empathy. It was highly selective, and only money and power seemed to flip that switch.
But Penny needed the Elder, and Kashaunta only had use for her as an asset. She palmed the new communicator Kashaunta had issued her after the last one's destruction. Kashaunta's hologram appeared. It looked around, noticing the news drones in the air.
"Not here."
"Where?"
"You will know."
In the mindscape, a Sprilnav appeared on Penny's layer. They felt odd to her, almost like the minds of certain humans high up in the hivemind's network. Penny greeted the Sprilnav warmly.
"Hello."
"Queen and Elder Kashaunta requests your presence on her flagship."
"Very well."
In reality, Penny looked around at the crowd. She waited until it dwindled to nothing, and then spoke.
"Displace."
Conceptual energy twisted, and she stood on Kashaunta's flagship, though nearer to the edge than she'd expected. The Elder was waiting for her in an outfit that looked much like pajamas, though they were under a few armor pieces that appeared anything but decorative. Now that Penny noticed it, it was the same sort of armor that Yasihaut had worn to their last encounter, which interfered with conceptual energy. The Sprilnav were highly advanced. She wondered just how far their technology could go. She'd heard mentions of some ships having artificial gravity, and of nanites and programmable matter. But nothing certain.
"Hmm," Kashaunta said, giving Penny a once over. "You have come back. Shall I assume you are still my ally?"
"Nervous, are we?"
"Nervous is what you should be, Penny. The Judgment is coming. Ten days. Indrafabar and Justicar will both be on the court as High Judges. That is not good for us at all. So I figured a bit of prudence was in order. I have thought long and hard about this, and with the great battles of our time so fast approaching, I figure it is time to mend our relationship before the chasm grows any wider."
Kashaunta motioned to a special looking sword sheath on her back. Slowly, she drew a sword. A Soul Blade. Penny began to draw up her armor.
"Oh, I am not wishing for a fight, Penny. I know the damage you could do, even in my sanctum in the sky. Tell me, do you know how Soul Blades are forged?"
"No."
"Good. And tell me, do you know why they draw so much power to swing, even for Elders and beings as capable as us?"
"I have a few theories."
"I am sure you do," Kashaunta said. "But here is the thing. Soul Blades are typically weapons assigned to highly promising Elders, or even Progenitors. Filnatra, undisputed sword master that she is, can wield them as easily as breathing. If I were to swing this blade, there would be no drawback. Why?"
"Because you own that Soul Blade."
"Because this Soul Blade is mine. It is not just something I own. I own around seven or so more Soul Blades, with some weapons nearing their quality lying in my various vaults even now. You did not detect them, because I willed that not to be. I need you to understand this, Penny. You have power. You have might. But you are not invincible. My Soul Blade, if it struck you, would not cutely separate Nilnacrawla or Cardinality from you. Nor would your speeding space entity be able to block this blade with his flesh. If this cut you, it would release unending agony upon you before you exploded in a burst of burnt gore."
Penny sighed. "There is no need to threaten me. Allies do not threaten each other."
"But you do not see me as an ally. You see me as your means to get through the Judgment. You believe I see you as nothing more but a linear singularity maker, and perhaps a passing curiosity I'm backing on a whim. You neglect to imagine that there might be firmer reasons why I back you, and why more Elders are getting drawn into this conflict. You believe I am comfortable with showing you my more pragmatic and ruthless sides because I am comfortable with the fact that you cannot harm me. That you would not dare to do so, when you need my assistance so badly. That I might even be aiming to normalize my 'new' self with you."
"That is hardly my belief alone."
"Is it now."
Kashaunta grinned. There was no warmth in her gaze.
"Nilnacrawla," Kashaunta said. "Cardinality. Exile. Come out and show yourselves. You are being rude as guests."
Exile detached from Penny's head. He grew into the shifting array of fractals and shapes she was more familiar with. What had once grated on her eyes did so no longer. Kashaunta stared at the speeding space entity for ten seconds, then looked back up at Penny.
"He will not work on us. I will cover his form with holograms if he walks through my ship out of courtesy for my workers and crew, if he cannot."
"I am capable, Queen Kashaunta."
"You are quite knowledgable, aren't you?" Kashaunta mused, looking at him hungrily. "Oh, how I wonder what secrets you have in your head. How many of ours do you know?"
"I will not be taken as a hostage," Exile said.
"You will not because I decide not to," Kashaunta said. "Formally, our species are still at war. There is no treaty."
"The Sp'rkial'nova no longer exist."
"Yes, they do," Kashaunta said. "The name was discontinued for use regarding the lesser specimens we created. But I can assure you, Exile, if you wish to go by that name here, that we still do exist. I am a Sp'rkial'nova in the flesh. In the blood. In the mind. In the soul."
"Say what you will, Sprilnav. It changes nothing."
"On that I agree. Though our views on how things are may differ, and yours is wrong, your opinion is not valuable enough to matter."
She turned to Penny. She would have defended Exile, but he gave her a simple shake of his head area.
Nilnacrawla formed out of psychic energy in front of Penny. Cardi did the same beside her. Kashaunta tapped a claw on the ground. Tables and chairs appeared. A chef brought in food that looked passable and a few decent attempts at human cuisine.
"We do not have to eat, though I would expect that all of you at least sit at the table. We will discuss our grievances, and how to solve them before we proceed with the future. We shall first go to the matter of the Alliance. Penny, many in their number wish to establish contact with you. Do you agree to this? If so, I will add their communicator numbers to the translation program I have reserved for your personal use, in case your own device needs another sudden replacement."
"I agree."
"Good. A first step of diplomacy, I would say. Agreement. Now, Nilnacrawla, you look like you have something to say to me. What is it?"
"Free Meridia."
"Meridia was detonated by planet cracker during the 139th Sector 9 Border War. I am sorry more could not be done."
A cold draft of air rushed out of Nilnacrawla's nose. He glared at her. "You let them die."
"I did not. A Grand Fleet was defending that star system, and three came to lay siege. I am many things. A tactician, a queen, an Elder. But I am not a god. I cannot perform miracles. I evacuated 30 billion people from that world and its surrounding stations before the planet crackers hit it. 4 trillion more souls died in that blast. The best I can do is to offer an apology."
"That will never be enough for what you did. If you had never established your nation, they would still be alive."
"They would be slaves. Chattel slaves, not that cute little 'wage slavery' concept privileged people throw around. Perhaps I should remind you just how much darker that reality would have been for your female descendents, specifically. I am a brutal warlord, a dictator with an iron fist. But my claws do not squeeze nearly as tightly as I could. Metrics say that I could extract at least 370% more profit from my people if I simply enslaved them. But despite the shock this may bring to you all, I do have principles. The Autonomous Peoples' Stars are my people. My nation. My empire, if you think I'm imperialist. But I protect them as best I can."
Nilnacrawla's cold anger didn't lessen. Penny placed a calming hand on his front left thigh. He blinked. He let out a long, pained sigh. And he bowed his head to her. Not to Kashaunta, but to Penny.
"There is no need to be cruel."
"My language was accurate, Penny. He is a strong Elder. Everlasting knows he's stronger than most of these fools. Nilnacrawla was and is a hero of the Source war. I respect him enough not to mince words, or to give platitudes. Coddling is for babies. Nilnacrawla is far more mature."
Kashaunta turned to Cardi. "You have been remarkably silent in this, concept."
"I have."
"A wonderfully succinct statement. Perhaps you can shorten it further. But nevertheless, you and I will be working together with Penny much more in the near future. Rest assured, if you refuse to become more independent, you will be nothing more than a crutch for her to rely on before leaving her to fall when you are ripped away."
"When, Elder? I would like to think your protection is sufficient."
"I am sure the truth is quite the opposite, dear. I will now get to the point. Penny needs to move faster, and needs to break out of her shell. She needs to be pushed to do more. She has signed a binding treaty, which shows she is capable of more than barbarian aliens, as some Elders would call her. You, Cardinality, will help her be a high achiever. To do this, you need to learn more about your own history.
That is the theme of the year, after all. History. My history, Penny's history, Sprilnav history, and even Gaia's history, it would seem."
"Gaia? What do they have to do with all of this?" Penny asked.
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that."
"Excuse me? You don't get to decide that, Kashaunta. You will tell me. I refuse to be coddled, like you say. I demand the respect I am owed."
"You forget yourself, Penny."
"I remember myself, actually. I am all I need to be. I can become all I need if I must. You can hold your backing against me all you want, but you won't withdraw it. As you said, more binds you and I than mere money and ideology."
"And if you're wrong?"
"Then I've doomed my species and my nation to war, and this planet to the full power of my wrath."
"Wrath, Penny. Wrath. The Sprilnav have many words for anger, rage, hatred. There is the desire for vengeance, in varying degrees. There is that for justice, which does differ. And that for belonging. I know you believe you are standing up to me as a way to assert your own authority in this relationship of ours. You believe I see you as inferior, and will pull back my help when it is profitable for me. I will not offer you the consequences of what your words could mean.
You already know them, and that argument is as stale as your view on us Elders. I will say this once, Penny. You are the Champion of Humanity. The apex predator of your planet, the only one mostly in charge of an Alliance that does more than merely dream of overthrowing us. It is easy for me to say you are not a threat, though I do not ignore the threat you and your nation are trying to become. Gaia will be a part of your movement, but even my information is not entirely complete. I will not mislead you by claiming I know Gaia's link to this, just that there likely is one.
And I am not unreasonably petty. I am willing to put all our animosity behind us and start anew. Even if you are not willing to do the same, I am willing to make this work for us. You have more people to care for than just the Alliance, now. Do not forget them."
"A lot of words that mean nothing."
"Because you heard, but did not listen. Perhaps it will be easier this way, Penny. I want you to win."
"Explain."
"You wish to overthrow the current Sprilnav led order of the galaxy. Your path to that will likely be through mass slave revolt. A viable strategy that I could spread far beyond just this planet. And I actually agree with you. This Judgment, this utter insanity around the Alliance and your species has shown me the truth. The Elders as a class and a species cannot be trusted to rule any longer. We need new leaders. Better leaders."
"And yourself?"
"As the hypocrite that I am, and the power-hungry ruler of the Sprilnav, I would obviously exclude myself from that number. Let's be realistic. The Sprilnav will never accept a non-Elder ruler. If you wish to see what our insurgencies would be like, imagine the 2090s Struggles of Asia. Expand that to billions of planets, large and small. Countless ships and space stations. We have more collective ships than you have people. And as your military planners know, there is no such thing as an unarmed ship. Without us, without me, your plans are stillborn. Your galactic Alliance or whatever you make will fall to pieces without proper counseling. In essence, my offer to you, and you alone, is this. The galaxy, for the Sprilnav."
"Who backs your offer, with the power to give it?"
Progenitors Lecalicus and Nova appeared in the room.
"I back Kashaunta," Lecalicus wheezed.
"I observe her offer, and wish it a proper outcome," Nova said.
"Thank you, esteemed Progenitors," Kashaunta said, standing just to bow to them. Penny stared at Nova, balling her fists.
"There will be time for battle later," he said. "But not now. Hear out her request. She does not make it lightly."
The Progenitors disappeared.
"If I accept your offer, it will be on a written record."
"No. It will not be, because if that record is written, my nation will be facing war on all sides. A better idea would be for us to keep this under wraps."
"Perfect for betrayal," Nilnacrawla muttered.
"It would be, yes. But consider the second part of this situation, Nilncrawla. If word of this galactic offer, not just the Pact, were to get out, which is why two Progenitors who know the price of interference were called here, it would mean the deaths of Penny and all her kind. Or do you forget what rapidly approaches us?"
Nilnacrawla frowned. "I did. I apologize, Penny."
Kashaunta spoke up again.
"Penny. You believe I will betray you. So I make an offer of collateral. An offer so unbelievably sacred for us Elders that many would recoil at the mere thought of it. Now that you have signed a backed treaty, you are fully qualified."
Kashaunta grabbed her Soul Blade and presented it to Penny.
"What does this mean?"
"Nilnacrawla, tell her," Kashaunta said. "She will trust your mouth more than mine."
"Bonded Soul Blades are priceless artifacts," Nilnacrawla said. "To offer one to another is the ultimate gesture of trust and respect among many martial Sprilnav cultures. It can also allow for a mind bridge, a soul pact, or a proposal for marriage between two great houses, martial families, or Elders of great wealth and power. To offer this to a human... to anyone... is an ultimate sign of backing, and one of trust.
It is a sacrosanct honor, the absolute agreement of speaking truth and respect. The words I can use in any human language are insufficient to describe the weight of this honor. This gesture is one of absolute truth. Family lines with hatred going back millions of years would never dare to violate this honor."
"Only one Elder in history did so, one who once led a group known as the Stannic Resistance. He does so no longer. Penny Balica, Champion of Humanity... if there is nothing else I can give you to prove that I do really back you, there is this."
"...Just how low are my chances in the Judgment for you to resort to this?" Penny asked.
"They are not zero, but your battle with be incredibly difficult even with this boon of mine. The future of the galaxy, I now realize, hinges on the outcome of this. If we do not have enough trust, they will sniff it out, and we will fail."
So she had no choice. But as Nilncrawla continued to explain in her mind, Kashaunta was getting the worse side of the deal. Which meant she was throwing her backing behind Penny for real, beyond all reproach and retraction. Kashaunta, the most powerful Elder in the galaxy.
"And if I reject this gift, or your reasons for it?"
"Circumstances would demand that I kill you and then myself using this blade as a way to cut apart the dishonor, before my remains are dumped into a black hole to be forgotten forever. I would not do this."
"A dark and archaic custom," Penny said. She would have said more, but she looked at Nilnacrawla's face. He was clearly deeply uncomfortable. Her five words had shaken him more than anything she'd ever said to him before.
"You do not understand," Nilnacrawla said. "This is not something to joke or lie about. With a Soul Blade Pact in play, all else must cease. Right now, there is you, and there is her. Accept or decline. The choice, your only choice, is yours."
"How will this look to the Elders in the court? To the Sprilnav, and the people who back me?"
She could see how it would be a boon and a curse.
"You, and I," Kashaunta said. "The whole of the universe between us right now is you and I. No others exist until this one act is done. There will be trust or there will be death. No in between. No middle ground. The nature of this bond will be a Pact of Blades."
Conceptual energy swirled between them. Penny's natural translation, as part of the hivemind, failed for the first time ever. Her communicator likewise did not translate the words Kashaunta spoke.
"Eis nama kaste Penny Balica, sun lanci Dorima Kashaunta. Ko'ri, lanci nupa bes na Dorima'Pecunyanova. Sp'rkial'nova. Sun. Homo Sapiens."
The air grew thick with tension. It was not just emotional, either. Psychic and conceptual energy gathered. The mindscape started to distort as more and more eyes began to view Kashaunta and Penny. But all of them were Sprilnav eyes. All of them were Progenitors. Nova's appeared brightest and largest, nearly six times the size of the next largest pair. They stared at her, sending psychic and conceptual energy down upon her in waves that forced her and Kashaunta to kneel to the ground.
"I apologize for my earlier words," Penny said. "I should not have denigrated this."
Penny stood for an hour, deeply contemplating the Pact. If it was as Nilnacrawla was describing to her, it was a promise that Kashaunta would not break. If she was offering it at all, especially to Penny, it meant she had a level of trust in Penny's capability far above what Penny had previously thought. Apparently, there were even higher agreements than this that were possible, with this Pact being the lowest level of bond and considered unbreakable with the enforcement of consequences coming from the Progenitors themselves.
She thought of her place in Justicar and the wider universe. Hours passed like water. And then, by the end of it, after nearly 19 hours, Penny finally had decided. She gave a short nod to Kashaunta, who had been kneeling to Nova all this time.
Kashaunta gestured at the sword. "Tol, nopa shikai."
Nilnacrawla fed her a few suggestions on what she would need to say.
"I come to this Pact seeking peace, justice, and hope," Penny said. "And a promise not to betray one another, by lies or by treachery."
Nilnacrawla translated Kashaunta's next words to her.
"I come to this seeking trust, understanding, respect, and peace," Kashaunta said. "And a promise not to betray one another, by lies or by treachery. I make this Pact before the gods, those who equal them, and those who surpass them. I bind them to an oath of silence regarding this event, until I directly instruct them otherwise, in a state of a sound mind, body, and soul. Here, we shall step into a future that needs both of us, casting aside that which is unimportant to focus on the ultimate goals we have. I offer my Blade to Penny Balica, of species Homo Sapiens. In this way, we forge a new future, and walk a new path. I accept the Pact."
"I accept the Pact."
Nova and a hundred Progenitors descended. Nova grew larger, and Kashaunta knelt to him. Penny remained standing. His sharp teeth glittered in the light. He pressed his claws to Penny's chest, and to Kashaunta's chest.
"The Pact of Blades is made before the Progenitors. We agree to your vow of silence. The penalty of breaking it will be dismemberment and disposal into a black hole. Penny Balica, Engineer Kashaunta. To break this Pact without mutual agreement is to call down our collective wrath upon yourselves. You both have agreed, and are of sound mind, body, and soul. The Pact is forged. By sword, by word, by action. I, Nova, Everlasting, Lord of the Progenitors, King of all Sp'rkial'nova, Heir to the Mantle of Power, Heir to Narvravarana, Progenitor, Elder, and Sprilnav, declare the deed done, etched in time, space, and Reality."
They winked out of existence one by one, leaving Penny and Kashaunta alone, to ponder the future. Penny's thoughts turned to the Judgment, and her confidence she could win it began to waver. How much worse was this Judgment going to be than before?
Penny stared at Kashaunta's Soul Blade. With careful fingers, she took it. Kashaunta sat up, satisfied.
"Now we can begin. I shall compile all the news about you I can find, and we shall see how to address the questions the High Judges will ask. Now that you trust me, I cannot betray you."

By popular demand, I guess...
I was kinda just being a smart-ass, but some of you wanted more so here it is: epilogues for every NPC as if they didn't continue to travel with Gorion's Ward and instead just decided to live their own life. Obviously, there are some implied alignment changes here.
This turned out to be longer than I expected and I kinda just threw it all together while I was working. Please excuse any typos or sloppy writing.
I want to apologize for one thing, though. Viconia's epilogue really only works if GW is a male, so I had to make that assumption for the sake of her story. If it matters any, I easily play just as many female GWs as I do male GWs. In fact, I probably play more female GWs because I don't care for the romances, frequently play the canon party, and want to nip the lame Jah romance in the bud.
But, to have them all in one place, I included my original smart-ass epilogues with the additional ones I created. Now, every character from BG1 and BG2 has an epilogue. I don't have the EE characters, though, because I play the original games and don't really know them.
So, just for funsies, which one is your favorite and why?
"Anomen continued to wait at the Copper Coronet for a party of adventurers willing to travel with him. Maybe it was the grating sound of his voice, or perhaps the way he leered at women, but he continued to remain alone. Eventually, he needed to find work to make ends meet. With Gorion's Ward having disbanded the slave traders and pit fights, Hendak had to find a new form of entertainment for the patrons. As such, he invented an all male review ladies night, and Anomen found work as a 'dancer'. He left the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart to join the less noble order of the pole. He also renounced his faith to Helm and instead allied himself with Waukeen because if you wanna see some groin, you gotta have some coin."
"Despite Gorion's Ward clearing the trolls from her keep, Nalia was not able to reclaim her lands and instead lost her estate to Lord Roenall. The lord offered to let her retain residence in her family's ancestral home, but only in exchange for her hand in marriage. Nalia found the proposition to be repugnant. Instead, she salvaged whatever wealth she could from her family's keep and moved to Athkatla to start a new life. She no longer helped the less fortunate, as she was now among their numbers and had her own problems. Nalia's lack of any practical skills combined with her sense of entitlement sent her into a life of failure followed by drinking and debauchery. She now spends more time back at the Copper Coronet than anywhere else. It is hard to say where she squanders her wealth more, the alcohol, or on the dancers during Ladies Night."
"After the incident with the Planar Sphere, Valygar was finally free of his past, could retire to his cabin, and pursue his true passion: writing. Ironically, the only inspiration he found ended up stemming from his family's checkered past. Valygar's only works that even had middling success were 'Tuesdays with Lavok' and 'Dude, Where's My Planar Sphere', with the latter being made into a production at the Five Flagoons Theater."
"Haer'Dalis continued to work as a performer at the Five Flagoons Theater. Unfortunately, it struggled due to poor management. It might have turned out better if an outside agent with fresh ideas had stepped in, but Gorion's Ward had better things to do than be a bard. While the work was generally steady, the returns were not great and the material was a little low-brow for Haer'Dalis' liking. The tiefling realized he reached rock bottom when he was cast as the lead in a play about a buffoon who apparently lost a plane-shifting apparatus the size of a small castle and had to find it before his parents returned from Neverwinter. After the opening night, he took his own life in his dressing room. His body was found the next morning with a note saying, 'Art is dead and I am art, so I shall join art in death.' Biff the Understudy stepped in for Haer'Dalis despite never having an opportunity to read the script. Nevertheless, the production was a resounding success and launched Biff's career to new heights."
“A heartbroken Garrick found work as a character actor at the Five Flagoons Theater, but eventually gained more success as a writer and director. He found it to be a mostly agreeable situation, aside from a tiefling primadonna who would constantly belittle his work and call it ”trite" and “drivel”. Fortunately, that situation worked itself out in time and Garrick found Biff to be much easier to direct. With the tiefling gone, his ideas had room to grow. He invented a new kind of love story, one where the protagonist doesn't always get the girl at the end but the journey to that ending would be quite amusing. He labeled this genre “the Comedy of Romance” and the works were mostly based on his own life. His plays were quite popular among the commoners, with his top selling shows being 'Sleepless in Saradush', 'Silverymoon Linings Playbook', and 'Crazy Rich Aasimars'. He eventually fully transitioned off the stage into the director's chair. By the peak of his fame, he was married to none other than Queen Ellesime."
“Aerie continued to work at the circus and WOULD NOT SHUT UP ABOUT HER DAMN WINGS. Even Quayle eventually grew sick of hearing about it. This put strain on their relationship. Things took a turn for the better when Ribald Barterman acquired a new curiosity for his shop. It was a magical ring which he sold to Quayle at a reduced rate out of sympathy. This ”treasure" was actually a cursed Ring of Deafness, which Quayle found to be anything but a curse and wore it for the rest of his days."
“Xzar and Montaron were both slain at the hands of the Athkatla Harpers, but this is actually where their story begins. Xzar, as he had done so many times before, had a backup plan of an arcane nature should death befall either he or the halfling. Their mortal essences were pulled to a pocket plane he created. There they could be channeled into restored bodies cloned at his estate. With this particular round of ritual, Xzar had incidentally made a slight error in the incantation and the two found themselves in a time suspended state in Xzar's pocket plane. It was only five minutes for the rest of the world, but it was fifty years for them. This turned out to be a pivot point in their relationship. Having only each other's company in this shadowy void, they were finally able to work out their feelings for each other. When they had returned to the prime material plane, they discovered their mutual animosity was replaced with love. Rather than pick up their life where they left off with the Zhentarim, they decided to pack it all in, moved to Bryn Shander, and start a bed and breakfast. Montaron rediscovered his halfling roots and love for the culinary arts while Xzar would perform seances to connect guests with their late loved ones. Scones and Bones became an overnight success and was consistently listed as a “must see” in Volo's travel guides. In their golden years, the couple co-wrote a memoir of their journey, ‘Brokeback Montaron’, which is sold in bookstores everywhere."
“After briefly crossing paths with Gorion's Ward, Mazzy Fentan continued her crusade as a de facto halfling paladin. She eventually found herself petitioning for membership at the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart in Athkatla after she had singlehandedly saved a village from an ancient dracolich. Despite the extent of her virtue and accomplishment, her petition was denied on the basis that halflings could not possibly be real paladins. This inspired her next crusade, one to break down vocational barriers for all demihuman races. Why couldn't halflings be paladins or dwarves be wizards? And why did gnomes always have to be illusionists? It simply made no goddamn sense. She began to get traction with her quest when she attended lectures by the wizards of the (sword) coast in Candlekeep. With their help, she ushered Faerun into a new edition era where there would be no vocational barriers for adventurers based on their race. Soon, the world began to see roguish halflings that also venerated Helm, while tending to the wilds as a druid. Half-orc bards also studied as wizards while manifesting natural arcane abilities as sorcerers. Tiefling paladins took their crusades to the wilderness and served as rangers, while sidelining as clergy to Mystra. The world was now a liberated place, free to not make any goddamn sense in a myriad of new ways. At one point, Lady Mazzy Fentan of Trademeet (now formally a paladin) crossed paths with a dwarven shadowdancebard and in that moment she regretted everything. Seriously, just take a moment and picture that. It would look fucking ridiculous.”
“Yeslick's clanhome was flooded once again. Despondent and without options, he took work at a smithy in Baldur's Gate but never stopped dreaming of finding both a clan and a home. He found a way to bring this dream to life after a courageous halfling paladin broke down the barriers for, among other things, dwarves to be wizards. Yeslick had an idea. He studied magic diligently until he was able to cast two spells of great importance: Water Breathing and Permanence. He then searched the lands for other clanless dwarves who would be willing to try something new. With the new clan he formed, Yeslick permanently gave all his fellow clansman the ability to breath underwater. They then moved into the flooded Cloakwood Mines and built the first underwater dwarven stronghold. Using his arcane powers, Yeslick also developed the ability to speak with the marine life that shared this stronghold. And, with that, the clan Aquadwarf was born. At one point, Valygar visited and wrote a play based on Yeslick's story. However, he couldn't even get it to stage at the Five Flagoons Theater. The illustrious director Garrick was quoted as saying, “A hero that can breath underwater and talk to fish? Nobody would go for that!"
“Keldorn finally retired from the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and looked forward to a much simpler life. He rekindled his marriage with Lady Maria and life seemed to improve. It was rather early on when the couple discovered that Maria had become pregnant again. It was also not long after that when Peony, the housekeeper, also became pregnant. Maria started to ask Keldorn about this, but Keldorn started to get defensive and asked, ”Hey, who's the Inquisitor here?" Then Keldorn started to do the math with her to track the conception of Maria's pregnancy. She certainly did not want him to get to the end of that equation, so she quickly changed the subject. She suggested getting a new maid, but Keldorn chastised her for abandoning someone in their time of need who had been like family for years. He forbade Peony's departure claiming that his god, Torm, would not stand for it. Maria then made a passive aggressive comment about Torm being the god of loyalty, but she was mostly just muttering under her breath to get the last word in. Eventually, both children were born and had probably the most awkward upbringing of anyone in Faerun."
“After Gorion's Ward helped Coran take down a wyvern, the rogue brought the beast's head back to the mayor of Beregost for the reward and accolades. He thought this put him in a position to be a hero of great renown and perhaps, just maybe, people would stop mocking him for his flashy attire and completely superfluous eye mask. They didn't. He only gained acceptance when he crossed paths with a ranger who seemed indifferent towards Coran's keen fashion sense. Coran traveled the Sword Coast with his ranger sidekick, righting the wrongs against the ‘little guy’ and taking the law into their own hands when needed. This partnership dissolved when he discovered that the ranger thought Coran was the sidekick. As if! Coran tried to correct the ranger, whose argument was, 'Really, man, if that outfit doesn't scream sidekick then I'm Elminster's twin brother.' The ranger was not related to Elminster and shared no resemblance.
“Kivan never was able to get his revenge on Tazok. Unbeknownst to him, that honor was taken by Gorion's Ward. His thirst for vengeance continued to eat away at him until he found himself in a bat infested cave in the wilderness. It was then he snapped. He turned the cave into his secret hideaway, put together a disguise and started wandering the sword coast looking for evil-doers to punish. He would leave his calling card wherever he saved the day, a token of a bat with longer ears like an elf. And bats already had rather long ears so these bat ears were almost comically obtrusive. Nevertheless, his deeds were generally appreciated and the people stared calling him Bat-elf. For a short spell, another elf tagged along with him and tried to help, but he was so flamboyantly dressed that one could pick his sidekick out of the shadows blindfolded. Kivan eventually had to send him on his way. Unfortunately, his vigilante crusade abruptly ended after receiving a cease and decist order from DC Comics. Kivan could fight both monster and marauder all day, but his 14 Constitution wouldn't hold up against a lawsuit for trademark infringement.”
“Skie was deeply affected by both the death of her brother and the assassination of her father. And yes, her father was actually murdered and didn't lol-jk back to life in some crappy DLC. In any event, through these traumas, she came to realize the puerility of what she thought was her brilliant criminal masterminding. Instead, she decided to settle down and live a more responsible life as an upstanding citizen of Baldur's Gate. She took the reins of her father's estate after his death and rose to prominence as one of the Grand Dukes of the city. She maintained her relationship with Eldoth for quite some time, inexplicably, as he refused to get a job because he didn't want to take attention from his band which he swore was going to make it. However, the bard spent most of the day either lounging at Skie’s estate or gambling away his allowance with games of three-dragon-ante at the Helm and Cloak. Eventually, inspired by the book “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar," she decided to call it quits with Eldoth and sent him packing. Shortly thereafter, she met a man who was nothing like Eldoth and they settled down together to start a family."
“Eldoth's dreams of being a world-famous musician fronting the greatest band in Faerun never reached fruition. This was partly because he didn't actually have a band and partly because he didn't have the talent to write music. Instead, he just had a lute he purchased at Lucky Aello's Discount Store that only had one A-string and was missing the E-string. Also, Eldoth could only play power chords and he couldn't really sing and play at the same time. Most of the time he would just strum a chord or two and then talk about what the song would do next, often describing a solo and half playing it on an ”air lute" (while he was still holding an actual lute, mind you) to give people the idea as to how the song would sound when it was finally written. Yeah, he was one of those guys. After Skie kicked him to the curb, he bounced between various barmaids who clearly had low self-esteem, but not low enough to keep him around for long. Eventually, he got one of them pregnant and was forced into a shotgun wedding by the barmaid's father. He now works in the kitchen at the same inn as his barmaid wife. She helps the customers up front and he cooks eggs in the back. Eldoth continues to tell himself that this experience will just provide inspiration for his music and that someday he was going to get the band back together."
“After being rescued by Gorion's Ward, Xan made his way to Baldur's Gate to regroup. He spent an inordinate amount of time beating himself up over his failures and trying to muster the gumption to continue his quest to unravel the political turmoil of the region. However, it took him months to get to this point, and by that time, Gorion's Ward already sorted out the problems in the region. Discovering this, he deemed himself a failure yet again and sunk into a deeper depression. He pulled himself out of it when he met a woman who lost most of her family to violent deaths during the iron crisis, yet she still kept herself together and became a local success in a few short years. Xan immediately fell in love with the recently single Skie Silvershield and began to court her. They eventually married and started a family. At Xan's insistence, and inspired by his wife's name, their two daughters were named Sunshine and Rainbow. Xan was a staunch supporter of his wife's career and stayed home to raise the kids. When they were older and needed less attending, he followed a new dream and became a motivational speaker.”
“Korgan had his revenge against his backstabbing crew and employer, but he felt...empty. It was done, but he felt no satisfaction. Disgruntled and disappointed, he decided to lose himself in his cups at the Copper Coronet. Even this did nothing to alleviate his malaise. One night, having passed out drunk in a peasant room at the Copper Coronet, he dreamt of that final fight but something was different. In the background of the battle, there was a glow coming from the door of a shack and he heard the whispering of a language that sounded like it was from Kara-Tur. When he woke the next morning, Korgan returned to the rooftop and found the shack from his dream. He knocked and was greeted by a priest of Illmater. Korgan told the priest of his dream and he was led into the backroom where he found a man from Kara-Tur infirm and huddled over a cup of tea. The priest explained that he had just reincarnated this man of the faith using a heart delivered by a passing adventurer. Korgan took this as a sign, converted to the faith, and the two paired up to help those in suffering as a result of the schemes of others. The tales of Korgan and Yoshimo were not only told in many of a tavern by the bards, but also collected in graphic serials that were popular among the children of Athkatla.”
“Ajantis' death sent him into an afterlife at Everwatch, the realm of Helm. For his honor and diligence, the devout knight was granted an audience with his patron. Ajantis then told Helm what utter bullshit the god was. I mean, c'mon, he's the god of protection, the Vigilant One, and he couldn't protect a group of knights from a dragon's cheap illusion spell that a mage even tried to dispel with True Sight? It was like Helm wasn't even trying. Helm was stunned by the confrontation but also had no valid defense. Ajantis called Helm to a trial that was mediated by Tyr. After careful deliberation, Tyr determined that Helm was sleeping on the job and the judgment was to demote him to a lesser deity. Now, Helm was the patron of guards, but not actual guards that ever see action, just the ceremonial ones whose weapons and armor are super shiny and probably not even real. Ajantis was then granted Helm's old portfolio and became a god that truly protected his followers.”
“Viconia left Athkatla's government district perplexed. She was rescued from burning at the stake by Gorion's Ward and then immediately dismissed. She found this to be unusual behavior for a male. She was accustomed to men either trying to bed her or kill her, but this casual indifference was completely new. Viconia came to be obsessed with Gorion's Ward from a distance. She spiraled into a fantasy where the two of them had a future together. It was pretty bad. There were some extremely embarrassing vision boards involved and that wasn't even the worst of it. When her mania reached critical mass, her obsession actually collapsed and she had an epiphany. She came to realize that she did not need this man, or any for that matter. She started on a journey of self discovery and took a moral inventory of her past relationships. She wrote about it in the book, “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar”. She then used the revenue from the book sales to open Athkatla's first feminist bookstore. In Her Words became a mecca for women, particularly those who felt trapped in bad relationships. The community that emerged here created the group, Friends of Galia, which strove to free women from abusive relationships. Eventually, the bookstore expanded to include an apartment block above that became a shelter for such women. Occasionally, the partners of these victims would come around to In Her Words in an attempt to drag their partners back home. You can probably guess how a confrontation between a drunken 0-level commoner and a Drow priestess of Shar ends."
“Faldorn was defeated by Jaheira in Trademeet and lost her title of Arch-Druid. In truth, she was relieved to be relieved of the position. Years of pushing forward the Shadow Druid agenda led Faldorn to realize that she had lost touch with the real Faldorn along the way. After some soul-searching, she reinvented herself as a lifestyle guru and developed an entire line of organic health and beauty products under the name, She-Wolf. Both her products and seminars were all the rage in Athkatla, specifically among noblewomen who clearly had too much free time. Faldorn eventually gave up her residence in natural environs for a lavish estate in Athkatla's government district. Her following soon pressured her to petition to join the Council of Six after the fall of the Cowled Wizards left the position open (aside from a short-term replacement). Her petition was a success and she soon found herself on the Council of Six. Under her leadership, she created created the FDAA, the Food and Drink Association of Athkatla. Now, instead of draconian rules governing magic in the city, equally restrictive rules and standards were applied to the food and drink that the people consumed.”
“Barely surviving being gravely wounded by Irenicus, Tiax left Spellhold for Athkatla where he intended to do what he did best: rule. Learning from his past campaign mistakes in Baldur's Gate, he changed his slogan from ”Tiax Rules!" to “Make Athkatla Great Again”. Of course, what he thought would make Athkatla great was putting himself in charge as a despotic leader. But, he toned down that aspect of his platform and instead focused on the history of scheming and backroom dealing of the Cowled Wizards (as if he was any less evil or scheming) and promised the people he would be different than all the other corrupt politicians. Miraculously, despite his obviously apparent character flaws, he succeeded in replacing the Cowled Wizards' representative on the Council of Six. He decided to take their stance on restrictive magic to the next level and banned magic entirely. Since he didn't study the arcane himself, it was no skin of his nose. This move undermined his support base leaving him with only the most backwards and ignorant followers. He was ultimately removed from his position when he insisted the city build a wall around the planar sphere and was expecting that the city's wizards would be the ones to pay for it. After his removal, his few remaining extreme supporters organized an invasion of the main government building under the guise of freedom of assembly. All nine of these “rebels” were rounded up, tried, and sent to prison. Tiax was convicted of treason and reincarnated in Spellhold, which was now just a common prison. After his eventual release, he was prohibited from seeking any position of power in Amn."
"Edwin Odesseiron continued to lay low with the Shadow Thieves for a while. The Cowled Wizards suffered a crippling blow as a side effect of the conflict between Gorion's Ward and Irenicus. Edwin decided to step in and finish the job. His thought was that he could wipe out the Cowled Wizard remnants and then take credit for their defeat, thereby gaining him more clout among the Red Wizards of Thay. After many conspicuous mage battles in the streets of Athkatla, he succeeded. However, the people who noticed his efforts the most were actually the people of Athkatla. They were tired of living under the Cowled Wizards' iron fist and Edwin was lauded as a liberator and hero. He even had a statue in his image raised in Waukeen's Promenade. Edwin was initially nonplussed over people finally giving him the credit he always felt he so rightfully deserved. But, he quickly came to accept their praise and bought in to being a champion for the people. Edwin continued his agenda of liberation when a clearly insane gnome who found his way on the Council of Six tried to ban magic entirely in the city. Edwin and his followers were primarily responsible for having the madman removed from his seat.
“Shar-Teel, Safana, Branwen, and Alora all happened to cross paths with each other at Elfsong one evening. Shar-Teel was looking to fight a man, Safana was looking to shag a man, Branwen was recently petrified by a man, and Alora was just excited to be somewhere new. The four got to talking with each other and, despite having wildly different personalities, seemed to hit it off. Shar-Teel was sarcastic and aggressive, Safana was self-absorbed and man-hungry, Alora was kind and sweet, and Branwen was the matriarch of the group. You wouldn't think this lot would get along, but they actually did, and their differences merely become the fuel for innocuous hi-jinks week after week.”
"With Gorion's Ward's help, Cernd was able to rescue his child that he then abandoned again at the druid grove near Trademeet. He promised that he would return to raise the child, he just needed to run to the general shop in Trademeet for some pipeweed. He never returned, but that was pretty obvious since he didn’t even smoke. Cernd continued to wander Faerun. It came to light in Cormyr that Cernd had actually married, and had children, with numerous women in Cormyr, Amn, the Sword Coast, Tethyr, Calimshan, Turmish, Halruaa, Icewind Dale, Chondath, Sembia, Impiltur, the Silver Marches, and even the Troll Hills (don't ask). Furthermore, it was discovered that Cernd was not actually a druid, just a werewolf that had a Ring of Goodberries. The druid con was so that he could have a reason to abandon his wives and children and move on to a new situation. You would be surprised at how many women could fall for a guy that can conjure an impromptu picnic in the park. Unfortunately for Cernd, Cormyr was not the kind of place to run afoul of the legal system. For the crime of bigamy, he was sentenced to life in prison. He never set foot near a druid grove again, but he was allowed to participate in a work-release program tending to the gardens of nobles.
“Kagain returned to his shop and grew even more bitter, but not over what the death of Entar Silvershield's son had done to his reputation and business. Instead, he resented that even the Enhanced Edition of the game didn't give him a remotely decent companion quest. By Moradin's hammer, Cernd even had a pretty involved companion quest and the story there both starts and ends with a deadbeat dad! Also, Kagain can regenerate! Korgan can't even do that. And another thing! He was sick of people confusing the two of them as if all dwarves look alike or something. Ok, granted, they're both old dwarves with greying beards, but Korgan's beard is tied while Kagain's beard is brushed out. Of course, none of this made sense to anyone, even to Kagain who never actually crossed paths with Cernd or Korgan. However, the dwarf had nothing to do with his time except stand in his shop, isolated and alone, until he was done in by insanity and plantar fasciitis.”
“The death of Khalid shook Jaheira to the core. She convinced herself that she could never love again, certainly not so soon after his death nor with anyone that would be a child in her eyes. That would be absurd and rather tacky. After her escape from Irenicus' prison and deposing Faldorn from the druid grove, she took over as Arch-Druid. Being a Harper just wouldn't be the same without Khalid. However, the grove would allow her to explore a new, but comfortingly familiar, phase of life. She had barely been installed as the Arch-Druid when Cernd dropped off his child and disappeared again. He did not even stay long enough to tell Jaheira the child's name. Knowing he would likely not return, she named the child Khalid after her lost love. Realizing there were other children our there without families to care for them, Jahaeira would send her subordinates to wander nearby lands and bring them to the grove for a better life. Perhaps not surprisingly, many of these children happened to be Cernd's. She eventually renamed the grove to Kinder Garden in honor of the grove's new purpose of giving these children a kinder upbringing. Jaheira's headstrong personality served her well with these lost children, who all loved her as they would any mother. The Kinder Garden became the most thriving druid grove in all of Faerun. Jaheira eventually died in 1547 DR, with hundreds of children haven been rescued in her lifetime, and a memorial was erected in her honor at the grove. The inscription read, 'Nature's Servant Awaits.'"
“After being freed from Irenicus' dungeon, Minsc put his boots on the ground at the Copper Coronet. Being the simple man that he was, he found himself unwittingly recruited into fighting in the gladiator pits (before Gorion's Ward was able to free the slaves). Yet again, Minsc took a blow to the head. But this time, its effects were something completely new. No longer was he the slow-witted evil-slaying ranger, armed to the teeth and packing a hamster. Instead, his intelligence and wisdom started to blossom and he explored, through dissertation, the impact of modern civilization on the overall ecosystem of Faerun. Indeed, before Minsc started his work, the people of Faerun didn't even have the concept of an ”ecosystem". He left Athkatla to pursue a residency at Jaheira's grove where he could study and work in peace. He published works like, “The Intersection of Geopolitics and Biodiversity: Living More but Dying Sooner”, “The Essential Symbiosis Between the Savage and Civilization”, and “Moral Urbanization: Seeking a More Comprehensive Prosperity”. Minsc continued his studies and writing and ultimately produced enough groundbreaking works to have his own annex in Candlekeep. It was shortly after the dedication of this annex that Minsc disappeared from Faerun, never to be seen again."
“Jan Jansen's fate was the most impressive of all as his endeavors shaped the very fabric of Faerun for centuries to come. His story truly serves as a moral lesson for everyone and we should heed its virtue quite seriously. Helping Lissa and Jaella planted a seed of regret in Lissa with regards to her marriage to Vaelag. Speaking of seeds, this reminds Jan of a time when he was helping his Uncle Scratchy with his turnip farm. However, Uncle Scratchy was hoodwinked and the seeds he received were actually purple carrot seeds. You can imagine Uncle Scratchy's surprise when they sprouted and he suddenly had a field of purple carrots. Well, as you probably know, you can't make turnip stew, or turnip casserole, or turnip pie with purple carrots. But it just so happened there was a mage tower nearby and the resident mage needed a vast number of carrots. Apparently, her plan was to animate them as a kind of vegetable army to combat a myconid infestation in cave system rather close to her tower. Of course, animated carrots are quite self-assured and were immune to myconoid's confusion spores. Anyway, Jan had a once-removed cousin, Bobil, that was lost in those caves when he was a young gnome. He had wandered so deep that he found himself in the den of a solitary xvart who was obsessed with a magic ring. Bobil happened to purloin that ring but it turned out to not be magic at all. However, it was still worth enough for Bobil to buy himself a nice cottage in Trademeet. He then started his own turnip farm and had better luck than Uncle Scratchy. Wait, what were we talking about, again?”
“Boo continued his mission to study the sentient life forms of Faerun and determine their potential impact on the metaverse. He preferred the continued company of Minsc due to the ranger's kindness and protectiveness. Boo found this to be quite valuable in his current miniaturized state. Even after Minsc's accident, where his intellect began to expand, Minsc never lost his good heart and inherent kindness and the two remained the best of friends. It was a number of years later that the term of Boo's mission was complete. A team of his fellow people arrived on a spelljammer to collect the giant miniaturized space hamster. Minsc (and Boo) were on a retreat in a remote part of the Neverwinter Wood when a vessel shaped like a giant acorn landed in a nearby clearing. A number of human-sized anthropomorphic hamster-like beings, who called themselves the Ysoki, emerged and met with Boo. One had a strange crystalline device which it used to restore Boo to his proper size. Minsc naturally remained composed while all this was happening. He and Boo talked often and he knew this day would be coming. Boo returned to the spelljammer with his brethren to debrief on the mission. The Ysoki wanted to bring a sample back to their homeworld for further learning and study. Boo offered Minsc for the task, as the exemplar human would fit in nicely with the Ysoki's advanced culture and society. Everyone was in agreement and made the offer to the ranger. Minsc felt like he had made every contribution he could to the people of Faerun, so he accepted and boarded the ship. Boo, excited to finally be on a spelljammer again, took the helm and plotted a course for his homeworld. At his side sat his friend and faithful companion, Minsc.”

This book made me feel things. A lot of things. Keep reading if you care to indulge me in a minor brain dump about Book 2 as I process…
From a fantasy and storytelling perspective: utterly enthralling. I loved getting to see Feyre’s healing from under the mountain, her adjustment to immortality, and her discovery of her newfound powers. I loved getting to see more of Prythian and see what happens next following Amarantha’s rule of terror. I judge writing as “good” by the ability to suck me into the story, world, and characters, and Mist and Fury was a page-turner from the start. 5 stars from me on that front.
But I really didn’t like the romantic plot. I wanted to be sucked into the beautiful notion of Feyre finding her mate. I generally enjoy layered characters and wouldn’t have minded learning more about Rhysand and his motivations. Yet I couldn’t read this book without constantly thinking about how much I disliked Rhys in Book 1. Good intentions or not, he behaved pretty horribly in ACOTAR. I can accept that he was protecting his family, his people, but can’t accept that as some sort of redemption arc simply absolving him from his manipulation and kind of awful behavior.
I also can’t help but feel that Rhys’s “redemption” came at the utter demonization of Tamlin. Which… felt a shame after Book 1. Tragic even, considering how deeply Feyre loved him, willing to face absolute horrors to get him back. And based on ACOTAR alone, I got the impression that he truly loved her too. He wanted to see her flourish. It’s post-Under-the-Mountain that his character shifted and he became toxic, and this reflection by Feyre makes me believe that, if we didn’t catch red flags about Tamlin in Book 1… the author probably didn’t intend us to, because they weren’t there yet:
“I had loved the High Lord who had shown me the comforts and wonders of Prythian; I had loved the High Lord who let me have the time and food and safety to paint. Maybe a small part of me might always care for him, but...Amarantha had broken us both. Or broken me so that who he was and what I now was no longer fit.”
I get it. I can accept that Maas told a story different than what I was expecting, and that doesn’t make it bad. I can just admit to myself that I much would have preferred a story where Feyre and Tamlin got to heal through their trauma and brokenness together, and we got to continue the beautiful love story from Book 1.
I gotta hand it to her, though. I don’t know if it’s what she intended, but I give her mad props for writing ACOTAR in a way that can stand alone. I plan to keep reading the series because I do want to know what happens to Prythian, even if the romance has fallen short for me, but love that I can go back to ACOTAR, be satisfied with the ending, and dream of an alternate-reality head cannon where Tamlin was a healthy mate for Feyre.
Anyway. Them’s my thoughts. Thanks for reading this far if you made it. 😂 Would love to know if anyone else shared any of these reactions upon finishing ACOMAF!

Some say that the night is the calmest time of the day, others never find serenity in the silence of the night.
I remember those nights when I woke up after short slumbers. I absent-mindedly made my way to the sink, purposefully keeping my head down as I washed my face.
Then came that one night, when I kept my eyes shut longer than usual after I had closed the faucet. I remember how I gathered all the courage I had, and I lifted my head slowly. I opened my eyes to see the mirror in front of me, and there I was looking at myself. A twenty-five-year-old man with more than twenty-five grey hairs on his head. That sight turned my apathy into rage. Without thinking, I raised my hand and I started to pluck every grey hair. Every time I plucked a hair I cursed a moment of my life. Hair after hair, I lost count. After I had plucked the last one that I could find I took deep breaths, looking back at myself. My hair was completely dark, like how a young man should have.
In awe of what I had just done, I stared at myself. I brushed back my hair with my hand, and as I did, I saw one last grey hair that hid underneath. I was determined to do to it the same thing that I did, but when I saw it by itself, I felt pity for it; for myself. It seemed as if it were begging for mercy, screaming "what have I done?" I slowly let it go and looked back into my eyes. I took some other deep breaths, and I told myself: "From this moment until the time those hairs grow back, I'll do what I can. To learn how to live, to escape this burden that I hold in my chest." I went back to my room, changed my clothes, and wore my jacket and headed to the house door. I put my hand on the metal handle, I remember how cold it was that winter. I opened the door.
I remember when I took the first step of my journey late at night. The smell of rain fresh in the air. The still water on the roads reflected the yellow lamps, creating a frigid world sparkling with dazzling lights. I slipped my hands into my pockets, and wandered aimlessly through the streets. No sounds were heard that hour, everyone was dreaming in their sleep. I walked between cars and through alleyways, reaching places that I never knew existed. I felt alone at that time, but that solitude was comforting. When I walk alone, no one knows where I go. My feet took the lead, head lost in thoughts.
I found myself on top of a hill at the edge of town. From that hight, I could see where the street lamps stop, drawing a line that separate the light from the dark beyond. Just before the last few lamps, I saw an old building that was abandoned before I was born. From the hill looking down, I could see that it had a large yard surrounded by a wall and a single gate. Everything about that building seemed dead, it was in ruins. I never knew what it was used for. Heard that it was an old storage but I don't know for what. That night, I didn't have the clarity of the mind to consider my decisions. I began walking towards it, wanting to see it up close.
I reached the gate. Its old rusted lock held the door shut with chains, but to my surprise, one of the hinges was completely dislodged giving me an easy access. When I entered I looked around the yard, There were many things scattered on the ground. Old tables, broken doors, and other things that I couldn't figure out how they ended up there. Every step I made was followed by a creaking of wood or the shattering of glass. I remember the way the building towered over me from that angle. The dark, open windows looked like the empty eye sockets of a skull staring back at me. The sound of the wind howling almost like it was daring me to enter. The stillness of that moment stunned me for a minute, and when I turned my back to leave, I heard a sound of something small calling from behind a corner of the building. I slowly moved towards it.
There, I saw a cat that had fear on its face. Next to it was a wooden barrel. When I approached the cat, it hissed at me. I was confused by that, why did it hiss at me instead of escaping? Then I heard a meowing of a kitten echoing inside the barrel. I knew immediately what this cat was protecting, she was the mother of that kitten. I examined the barrel from afar, I noticed that it was upside down. The upper side had a small hole on it, I assumed that was where the kitten fill from. I was certain that the underside didn't have a lid, so all I had to do was to carry the barrel slightly for the kitten to escape. However, every step I took forward, the mother hissed harder and backed up little by little. She couldn't understand that I wanted to help. I was concerned that she would either scratch me to keep me away, or even worse escape and leave her kitten behind.
I looked around me, I saw among the debris a long, wooden cane. I took it to reach the barrel without getting any closer. I walked around to the other side of the barrel where the mother cat couldn't see me. I slowly extended my arm holding the cane, grabbing the barrel by inserting the handle into the hole. I used the cane as a leverage, raising the side closest to the mother. The moment the gap became large enough for them to see each other, I heard the kitten's meows change from an echoing sadness to a bright call of longing. The mother without hesitation grabbed the kitten and ran away as fast as she could. Never looking back. I stood there asking myself: "If I weren't here this night, I wonder, would that kitten have died in that barrel?" I looked up at the face of the building again. Perhaps my feelings that night were only for me to save the kitten. I walked towards the gate again, leaving the building behind.
I walked the streets looking down. Without noticing, I reached a park that had no fence. It was full of children's games and flowers. It seemed like a memento of my past. The swings dangling without anyone to push. Standing next to the slide, I could see that I was taller than it was. It all seemed lost and forgotten, but what was funny to me was how the roses had the same colour of the pale sand under the yellow light. I walked and walked at that park, felt fatigued at the time. I saw a bench left alone in the middle of the grass. I sat there, reflecting on my life. And after some time, I buried my face in my hands.
I heard the sound of steps crushing the grass. They were getting closer until they stopped. I didn't even have the will to look up. I heard a raspy voice: "What's wrong?" I weakly looked back. Saw the face of a concerned old man. Many wrinkles on his face, hair completely white. When I saw him I tightly crossed my arms without saying a word, facing down and away from him. I could feel him staring at me, then without a word, he sat down next to me. The lamps turned off in unison as the light of dawn began to colour the sky. The hum of the breeze was contrasting the bitter silence between us. I didn't know that man and I don't think he knew me, but the circumstances of that encounter make two strangers seem like lifelong companions.
After a while, I heard his voice again: "You know, I remember when I was your age, I had done many foolish things that I am ashamed to admit. I had thrown away the future that I could have had. I regret everything that I did. But I am alive, and you still have a life In front of you. Don't waste it. You are still young". With those words he stood up and left. I saw his silhouette getting smaller and smaller until I couldn't see him anymore. I might have imagined it but the air felt easier to breathe then. The melody of the songbirds were in harmony with the beats of my heart. Amazing is the mind; it shifts from emotion to emotion on a whim, just like how the black night is replaced by the first rays of the sun.
It is that night that I so vividly remember. Now, many years have passed, I sit in my bedroom every morning combing my hair. The signs of age evident on me, my hair is completely grey. I remember that bittersweet night while holding back my tears from spilling, grateful for a moment that passed. I stand up to begin my day. Just as I am about to put my comb back in its drawer, I notice a single hair that has been caught between its teeth. I take that hair and look at it with a smile. The upper half is dark and the lower half is grey.

Ethernet has landline 1900s phones two pairs wires reserved in the spec sheet its 8 or so wires when crimping the ends uses like two with one for ground and one seemingly empty and then has two for phone and some unused, with old 10/100 baseT coax with terminating ends exactly like optical or coax 90s cable TV with optical fiber 99% of the way just your block has coax to the rest which uses the 'same'DOCSIS data over cable standards as fibre optic.. just slightly worse latency and bandwidth is calculated by latency things like wifi lan has like 11 channels or 15 channels of frequency which optical calls wavelengths of light. A 2015 or around there linus tech tips video of him going to a swedish lan party called dreamhack had a bunch of multiple redundant 8Terabit or was it bytes of fibre optic internet they explained with light having 7 colors but having 8terabytes of bandwidth with different wavelengths of light called frequencys or a better term for optics is known as LASER ARRAYS of light at fixed frequencys that often plugs into the PC via ethernet cables or whatever for a gamer lan party or home/residential or small businesses at realistically within budget of anything with enough users to require that bandwidth or 'web hosting or web servers' you dont need to be an undersea cable or international link with 200terabits plus for an internet exchange to your main CBD or the fastest like the netherlands IX...
So the problem im trying to solve is, here in australia we got our undersea cables done wrong they kept breaking and we didnt have a navy or defense force securing our countrys communications to prevent war crimes and keep us connected to the global banking systems or whatever.. and then when our biggest telcos cable or fibre all had dialup speeds for around 2 weeks in the early years 2000s to force us to pay other countrys to connect to their links and be ' end of the line' maybe paywalled or proxied off the internet randsomewared to connect to and borrow bandwidth from other countries satellites and other countries undersea link cables which truly were indestructible to any cruise liner ships anchors whatever being flexible giant steel braided cables big as a CAR when australia finally paid to lay small sections of that stuff to link up to others and not pay randsome to internet butt bandits or have private businesses and multi nationals run their own links and ignore the public our lack of a defense force actually let somalian pirates literally somehow pick up and walk off with our expensive undersea car sized cables filled with a few arms thick of hair thin fibre optics which is cheapest clear resin enamels plastics about $3 not sure if USD per kilometer and resembles modern glass/glazing. How does anybody steal that stuff without people noticing like you cant just load it onto a truck and drive away? or a boat? if only satellites and some sort of defense organization existed to prevent us from being impersonated or whatever.. So now in australia ANYTHING with words like gigabit costs a fortune for a mainboard or switch or ethernet hub.. but the ancient 1900s 10/100 telephone land line wires of ethernet 10/100 clock in at a whopping 13 or so mhz sometimes 27.. and 60 or more mhz for like gigabits and whatever it increases shockingly fast with each mhz clock cycle as its units of work over time in nano seconds or zeptoseconds you see billionths of a second nano second RAM and PC with windows realtime kernel actually uses like ryzen hardware negative latency faster than reality freely syncing with any device in the universe and fixed mhz frequency bus can drive like 50 to 100 or thousands of GPU's and HDDs and monitors or whatever from the one modern multicore PC or whatever.. 90s AMD business server still holds world records for most connected devices though it had stackable CPUs opteron and would have used infinity cache type stuff probably software 3dnow and evolving game worlds tech of 80s and 90s AMD gaming evolved advertising.
So in australia anything gigabits costs hundreds of dollars for a switch router some thousands for lots of ports.. but its the shittiest weakest bandwidth ever with mhz and performance miles short of a raspberry pie or whatever. I had to pay a fortune for a mainboard with 10gigabit LAN port and everytime i got a high speed LAN port its been broken or missing so some pricks can sell ebay routers or switches for thousands here.. not knowing why its so expensive is youre paying fortunes for any real bandwidth because australia has to pay literal somalian pirates for their internet connections or privately owned businesses like telstra for access to their private links and glares at countries like new zealand and hawaii for being super technologically superior.. a cheap USB ethernet adaptor costs under 10 bucks on ebay or whatever and is maybe gigabit and your switches and routers 90% of the time you want the cheapest UNMANAGED switch possible. Yet the mainboard i recently purchased ASUS pro art creator x670E i recall had an issue with some asshats trying to steal pathetic measly 40gigabit USB4 chips from all the boards at the computer store to sell on EBay as other junk, when anything in the universe with an M.2 ULTRA slot does 40gigabits since PCI express 3.0/4.0 as PCI express 3.0 SSD drives famously use a specific I/O controller chip which gives them 38gigabits of the ultra M.2 slots 40gigabits of bandwidth. But for a couple years when AMD had pci express 4.0 and better than M.2 ultra intel was playing catch up on PCI express 3.0 and still had regular m.2 in all their boards until AMD was ready for pci express 5.0 my friend on intel bought the same NVME drives and complained they had corruption errors or issues i later learned his board wasnt fast enough and he was maybe trying to use the samsung magician RAM disk and enable NVME features and functions intel maybe did not yet support.
So.. why is USB 4 so many years late and why is it so dang expensive when terabits of ethernet or anything optical is like the cheapest stuff ever and comes with every internet connection since the 90s at the lowest cheapest mhz and 1900s land line wire telephones ever, remember digital isnt a physical thing and everythings literally analog with a sensor or multimeter whatever mathematically translating it to a graph or algebra equation mapping it into different values digitally +10 -10 whatever using microphones or camera sensor whatever. the gigabits tax and uhh LAN port taxes for dumb gay australians being literally see it via satellite outerspace levels dumb and gay astrogaylian should not apply to the cheapest of raspberry pie free 3d print or laser CNC yourself something computery like risc V for the cheapest of USB flash drives or memory cards etc.
I get intel pretends to have invented court ordered USB to probe their hardware after it was proven to have used other peoples code and chips by the chip makers and them selling computers with keyboard and mouse hardwired in so you bought a whole new computer when a key broke on the keyboard couldnt replace them.. and every other device had USB but theirs didnt free open standard and it kinda being the only way to connect any device in the universe and freely sync with it (mics/phones whatever).
why is 1900s phone tech ethernet so dang expensive to go from 20mhz ranges to 80 or whatever mhz ranges or use something very similar to 90s optical audio SPDIF output or anything remotely like a laser in australia? and who would be dumb and gay enough to be so financially retarded as to think that USB 4 was expensive or special as to steal it? am i... missing something?
also before you complain, but ethernets not the same as USB you cant power over ethernet or use your houses electrical wires as ethernet. You also cant use ethernet for monitors or displays, and its not like you can extend HDMI range limit of a about 10 to 15 meters by swapping its ethernet wires with optical ones for it to maintain its HDMI 0 latency spec or type C USB 0 latency spec. USB lets you connect heaps of devices you cant do that with an internet or ethernet for things like keyboard and mice or monitors or whatever. I understand what you mean power over ethernet or PPOE standards suck theres no way those are a thing. using devices over the internet and not the intranet who does that? thats so dumb. remote administration, theres no such thing youre mistaking malware or rootkits im sure. you cant connect a heap of devices up or entire computers to a ethernet port thats the dumbest gayest thing i've ever heard in my entire life! My gaydar is going off and it looks like the wifi symbol.
when trying to use anything ethernet with lame awful bandwidth thats limited, on my AMD board where the website images show AMD ethernet lists as marvel yukon controller i cannot use as its maybe broken there no light on the back, in devices managers advanced tab you can see the send receive or transmit buffer sizes and countless other ethernet settings are MISSING or a blank space. and are limited to 128 on send and 256 on receive up to 4096 or whatever max. But low latency 128 or 256 is maybe best but not all are an option and most networking features on the intel LAN adapters are missing countless advanced ethernet properties and settings because they're fake and lousy and the worst latency ever and they literally seem to swap your windows kernel out with something not realtime so you cannot ever hope to record or playback audio or video or anything close to a video game in hopes of slowly selling it back to you. Linux distros did this too its the dumbest thing ever that to hear or record or playback or play games you must patch in a realtime kernel for free to game like its the 80s and 90s or DOS or whatever. most 90s PCs were CAS 1 or lower nanoseconds. DDR 3 1600mhz depending the maker might be CAS1-4 latency. How can we verify our kernels are correct? and our ethernet and I/O bandwidth is correct? the youtube video about linus tech tips dream hack lan party of gamers in sweden was edited and reuploaded by illiterate asshat buttpirates maybe from somalia or the ones randsoming us some of their internet connections as a proxy piggy back on the international links as we dont have a defense force or army or whatever and dont know what war crimes are or why they are or what the heck a bank is and sure as shit dont know the cost of anything cheap USB or LAN. The dreamhack linus video falsely shows as 6TERABIT. they wanna steal 2TERABITS of EVERY optical or ethernet devices which isnt the government doing it if they wanna see whats in your computer they can document their reasons of why which is what a warrant is they dont need one if they believe a crime is occuring and literally take the computer by law to inspect it then give it back when nothings wrong they leave you a claim ticket and have you document it at the nearest policing station or whatever fill out forms sign 'they are taking my PC and i can get it back when it wasnt used for crimes." when australia doesnt technically have an internet and doesnt technically have RAID arrays which is required to use USB or SSD or NVME or storage tech with no moving parts and multicore a 2TB SSD is twice as fast and often has 2x 1TB wafer chips in there figure it out the IO controller chip supports many and you can buy the cheapest USB sticks with like 16terabytes of storage space i just see a $extend folder or uhh file format header thingy in the partition in my mainboard bios on that particular drive and using any cheap SSD or USB devices makes linux cry about the partition managers cant write or read extending past the storage limit. it doesnt take a genius to figure out what dumb gay fags the whole internet is.
infinitybitdepthinfinitygraphicsinfinitypixelsinfinityresolution.7z ~ pixeldrain

Chapter Two - Part One
Second Half
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Beginning of Entry…
StarDate: Redacted
Perspective: Major Commander Michael Irons
Species: Human, Humanoid Mammalian Species, no tail.
Description: 5 feet 2 inches [1.6 meters] to 6 feet 9 inches [2.1 meters] average height. 185 lbs [84 kilograms] average weight.
Longevity: 70 to 500-year life expectancy with life extension medical tech.
Unique Trait: Resilience and Indomitable Will.
Place: New Paris (Capital City)
Location: New Eden Prime
In the early hours, as the dawn cast a pallid light over New Eden Prime, the situation unfolded with urgent clarity. Major Commander Michael Irons, alongside Captain Adam Richter, adjusted his Raider armor, his eyes scanning the horizon where the silhouettes of enemy ships began to materialize. Both men were seasoned veterans, their faces etched with the lines of many battles, their demeanor calm yet alert. They awaited instructions as they stood amid the bustling rally point filled with soldiers and militia.
Their focus shifted as Colonel Nick Estrada approached, his imposing figure cutting through the morning mist, the tension palpable in the air. The urgency of the situation had drawn commanders and soldiers alike, all responding to the blare of alarms that had roused the colony from sleep and into action. Colonel Nick Estrada approached, his presence commanding immediate attention. His frame was not just physically imposing but carried the authority of a man who had seen countless skirmishes and emerged victorious. The commanders snapped to attention, though the informality of the crisis allowed for a quicker exchange.
Colonel Estrada, known for his strategic acumen, surveyed the gathered officers before speaking. "Gentlemen," he began, his voice carrying over the crowd. "Major Commander Irons, Captain Richter, the enemy fleet is now visible. We're seeing a full spectrum—we're up against a formidable enemy. Reconnaissance has identified a significant fleet composition—strike craft, corvettes, frigates, and troop transports. They're not just probing our defenses; they're here for a full-scale invasion."
Major Commander Irons nodded solemnly, absorbing the gravity of the situation. The enemy's intentions were clear: to overwhelm and conquer. "Do we have any intel on their motivations, sir?" he asked, his mind racing through potential strategies.
Estrada's eyes narrowed as he reviewed the latest data on his tactical pad. "Current assessments suggest their primary objective could be resource acquisition or territory expansion. Given the organized nature of their fleet, we can't rule out the possibility of them establishing a forward operating base," he explained, his finger tracing possible invasion routes on the holographic display before them.
Irons' jaw tightened at the assessment. "Have we identified their point of origin or any specific markings that could tell us who we're dealing with?" he asked, his mind racing through the catalog of known hostile factions and their usual tactics.
Captain Richter, ever the tactician, chimed in, "If we can disrupt their landing operations and take out their troop transports, we might slow their advance and buy us some time to fortify positions."
"Not yet," Estrada replied, turning to gaze at the display screen that showed the advancing ships. "Their configurations are unfamiliar, which suggests they're not from any known hostile group within our usual conflict zones. This could be a new player or a proxy force from a rival colony. But it's clear they want New Eden, as the orbital forces were obliterated in minutes."
Estrada, after careful consideration, turned to face the digital map highlighting strategic points around the colony. 'That's a start, but we need a comprehensive plan,' he declared. 'Irons, your units will be crucial in the eastern sector, where their fleet appears most concentrated. Richter, your teams will be our shield in the orbital defenses; we cannot allow them to establish a foothold there."
Richter chimed in, his voice steady despite the escalating tension. "We need to assess their capabilities and intentions quickly. Are they aiming for strategic locations, or is this an outright attempt to overwhelm and occupy?"
Estrada nodded, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. "Our immediate objective is to hold them at bay and protect civilian areas. I've already ordered evacuations where necessary. Irons, I need your units to fortify the eastern sector. It's closest to their projected landing sites."
"And I'll take the western approach," Richter added quickly. "It has fewer natural barriers, so I'll set up mobile defenses there."
Estrada approved with a brisk nod. "Good. I'll coordinate the orbital defenses to cover your flanks. We can't let them gain a foothold. Whatever their motive, it ends here."
The officers acknowledged their orders, understanding the critical nature of their tasks. Estrada continued. "We'll use the tram system for rapid redeployment. Keep your communications lines open, and expect dynamic orders. We need to be as adaptable as they are aggressive."
As the meeting drew to a close, Major Commander Irons felt the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. The survival of New Eden Prime hinged not only on their military prowess but also on their ability to outmaneuver an enemy whose capabilities remained largely shrouded in mystery.
With a final nod from Estrada, Irons and Richter dispersed to relay orders to execute their assignments; Irons felt the weight of the imminent conflict pressing down. Each step they took was heavy with the resolve to protect their home, knowing the enemy loomed just beyond the horizon, ready to test the mettle of New Eden's defenders. This wasn't just another border skirmish or a pirate raid. The scale of the invasion suggested a well-planned offensive by a formidable enemy.
Returning to his command post, Irons pulled up the tactical displays, which showed live feeds from drones and satellites tracking the enemy's advance. Each ship was marked in red and moved steadily towards New Eden's defensive perimeter.
"Let's show them what New Eden is made of," he muttered to himself, a mix of resolve and anticipation coursing through his veins.
This was his colony, his home, where his family and millions of others lived and dreamed of a peaceful future among the stars. Today, the peace and survival of the colony depended on his actions and those of his comrades.
As the first enemy ships entered range, Irons gave the order. "All units, engage at will. Prioritize frigates and anything making landfall. We hold the line, no matter what."
Back at the rally point, as shells began to crisscross the morning sky and the first explosions blossomed in the distance, Estrada and Richter coordinated their sectors' defenses, adjusting to the flow of battle. Each report, each burst of static on the comms, added to the day's growing chorus—a chorus filled with the sounds of a colony defending its very existence.
Above them, the sky turned from morning gray to the dark of smoke and fire, the battle for New Eden truly underway. As the alien forces made their ground assault on New Paris, Major Commander Michael Irons quickly marshaled his defensive strategies. The invaders had exploited a slight weakness at the equator of the planet's shield, where the northern and southern fields met, allowing a fraction of their invasion force to penetrate. This strategic breach had permitted several enemy corvettes and frigates to support the ground troops as they marched toward the city.
The morning sky, once clear and promising, was now darkened by the presence of enemy ships. Their shadows cast an ominous pall over the city as their engines roared menacingly overhead. Irons, stationed at the command post just on the outskirts of New Paris, observed the advancing enemy through his binoculars, his heart racing with adrenaline and cold determination.
Despite the thinning of their numbers due to the shield's resistance, the invaders pushed forward with relentless determination. Their landing crafts, equipped to penetrate the weakened shield points by slowing their descent, deployed troops directly into the fray. This strategic insertion allowed them to bypass the stronger defenses and land a significant force just outside the protective barrier of New Paris.
Irons, stationed at the command post, monitored the unfolding chaos through live drone feeds. The images displayed a grim tableau: columns of alien soldiers advancing toward the city, their movements methodical and unhurried, supported by the ominous silhouettes of their air support. The enemy's tactical acumen was evident in every maneuver, challenging the defenders of New Eden to adapt swiftly.
"Prepare all air defense units and activate the aerial defense batteries," Irons commanded into the comm, his voice steady despite the escalating threat. The air around him buzzed with the hurried movements of soldiers and the crackling of radio communications. The colony's air defense force, though robust, was significantly outnumbered without the support of their orbital fleet, which had been decimated in earlier skirmishes. "Target their air support first. We cut off the head, and the body will falter."
Acknowledgments crackled through his earpiece as his orders were relayed down the chain of command. New Eden's air defense force, though robust, was not designed for such a multifaceted assault. The absence of fleet support from orbit, a disadvantage painfully felt by every soldier on the ground, meant that each shot from the aerial defense batteries had to count.
On the battlefield, the sounds of warfare escalated. Explosions rippled across the early morning sky, painting it with streaks of fire as the colony's defenses engaged the invading air units. Irons watched as each successful strike brought down an enemy craft, each plummeting vessel a small victory in the shadow of an overwhelming threat.
Yet, even as they held the line against the aerial assault, the ground forces braced for the inevitable confrontation. The alien troops, undeterred by the resistance from above, continued their steady march towards New Paris. Their ranks, though reduced, remained formidable—a sea of figures clad in armor that glinted under the rising sun, their weapons poised for battle.
"The shields are holding, but we can't let them gain any more ground," Irons muttered, analyzing the tactical map that glowed with indicators of enemy movement. The slight gap in the shield at the equator was a glaring risk, one that could not be ignored. "Reroute additional units to the southern sector," he instructed, pointing to the area where the shield's weakness was most pronounced. "Fortify our positions there. I don't want a single invader breaking through."
His focus then shifted to the city's defenses. New Paris, a symbol of human resilience and ingenuity on the frontier, was fortified with multiple layers of defenses designed to repel invaders and protect its citizens. But today, those defenses would face their greatest test.
"We're on our own," Irons acknowledged, his gaze sweeping across the room filled with operators and strategists. "Every soldier, every pilot—we're what stands between them and the city. We hold them here, at the edge, before they can reach the heart of our home."
As the enemy's ground forces drew closer, the clash became imminent. Irons could see the front lines through the drones—human soldiers taking positions, their bodies tense with anticipation, their weapons trained on the approaching threat. The air crackled with the energy of impending combat, a mixture of fear, determination, and the indomitable will to protect their planet.
"Engage at maximum range," Irons commanded. "Use the terrain to our advantage. Make them come to us through the kill zones."
The enemy's corvettes and frigates hovered menacingly, coordinating the ground troops as they continued their relentless march toward the city's defenses. Irons could see the troops adjusting their formations and a tactical maneuver meant to optimize their approach under cover of their aerial support.
"Focus fire on those corvettes flanking to the east," Irons directed, pointing to the screens displaying satellite imagery. The operators quickly relayed his commands, adjusting the colony's firepower towards the threatening vessels.
Despite the heavy onslaught, the morale among Irons' men was resolute. They were well-trained and prepared to defend their home against all odds. The sound of anti-aircraft fire filled the air, a relentless symphony of defiance against the invading forces. Explosions lit up the morning sky as some of the enemy crafts took hits, their debris raining down and igniting small fires upon the rugged terrain of New Eden Prime.
Irons turned his attention back to the ground troops, noting the enemy's attempt to regroup after each barrage. "They're testing our defenses, looking for weak points. Make sure all sectors are covered and reinforce any undermanned positions," he instructed his lieutenants.
The battle was fierce, with every moment critical. The enemy's numerical advantage was evident, but the defenders of New Paris were determined to make every shot count. The city's aerial defense batteries worked in overdrive, targeting the enemy's air support in an attempt to level the playing field. The city's shield generators protected the city from any aerial bombardment from the frigates. Only the ground forces were a threat as long as the city's shield generators held, but with every strike from those frigates, the shield became weaker.
As the enemy advanced, a sudden and intense firefight erupted at the southern barricade. Irons watched through surveillance feeds as his troops engaged the enemy, their laser rifles cutting through the morning mist. The ground shook with the impact of heavy artillery, a relentless exchange that tested the resolve of every soldier under his command.
"Keep the pressure on! Push them back!" Irons shouted over the radio, his voice a beacon of command amidst the chaos. The troops responded with renewed vigor, their shouts and gunfire merging into the cacophony of battle.
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Chapter Two - Part One
First Half
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Outposts sprang up on Mercury and the moons of the Kuiper Belt, each a testament to human ingenuity and perseverance. The harsh landscapes of these worlds posed new challenges, but they also offered new resources and opportunities. The ability to leap across the galaxy using faster-than-light travel encapsulated the dark, relentless drive of the human spirit to explore, expand, and survive.
The network of colonies became interconnected, serving as launch pads for further exploration. The new FTL technologies transformed the galaxy into a neighborhood rather than an infinite wilderness. Each jump through space brought humanity closer to its neighbors in the cosmos, for better or worse.
The universe, once a vast, lonely place, was now a landscape of potential new homes and new challenges. As humanity spread out from the Solar System to the stars, the stage was set for new conflicts and new stories, written not in the light of the Sun but in the starlight of distant worlds.
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Humanity's march to the stars was driven by necessity and survival, stark against the backdrop of Earth's dwindling resources and rising conflicts. After World War I, the foundational theories of rocketry emerged, setting the stage for the later technological leaps that would propel humans into space. The brutal rivalry of the Cold War accelerated these advancements, pushing the Soviet Union and the United States to compete in the space race, a silent war fought with satellites and lunar landings.
The practical applications of these early missions were not just about planting flags but also about testing human limits and technologies in the harsh environment of space. The moon landings of 1969 were a global spectacle. Yet, they also underscored the sheer isolation and vulnerability of human life suspended in the cosmic void.
As the decades rolled on, the international focus shifted from competition to cooperation. The space shuttle program symbolized this new era, with nations coming together to build the International Space Station and to send joint missions to Mars. These efforts turned sci-fi dreams into reality—establishing bases on the moon and sending manned missions to Mars laid the groundwork for future colonization.
The drive to inhabit Mars and the moon grew out of a blend of fear and fascination. Habitats expanded into fully functioning colonies, tapping into local resources to create self-sustaining environments. Technologies developed for extracting water and producing air on these barren worlds were critical for long-term survival.
In the shadows of these achievements, the Alcubierre Warp drive emerged as a revolutionary breakthrough, allowing humanity to leapfrog across vast stellar distances in a blink. The UNV Pathfinder and its sister ship, the UNV Exploration, were equipped with this technology to reconnect with colony ships sent out decades earlier in the Great Exodus. These vessels carried not just new drives but also vital updates in agriculture, medicine, and communications to ensure the colonies could thrive.
Each successful mission with the warp drives was a lifeline, not only physically connecting distant colonies to Earth but also weaving a web of interstellar human culture. Resources and knowledge flowed freely, bolstering each colony's chance of success. These ships were built to endure the extremes of space. They were equipped with advanced life-support systems and autonomous navigation, and they were fortresses navigating the unknown.
Meanwhile, Earth and its solar system colonies were pushed further into space. Massive construction projects like O'Neal Cylinders and space elevators dotted the celestial landscape, marking human progress in the cosmos. Each colony, from Mars's rugged plains to the cloud tops of Venus, developed its distinct culture and identity, united by their shared heritage and mutual challenges.
Space travel was fraught with hazards. Asteroids and solar flares were just the beginning; the cosmos was a place of deep unpredictability and danger. Despite these risks, during this era, not just hundreds of thousands but hundreds of millions of people chose to leave Earth. They embarked on journeys aboard new colony ships. These immense vessels were comparable in size to or even surpassed the O'Neal Cylinder habitats in scale. These ships were behemoths, carrying the very essence of Earth and the seeds of future colonies.
The exodus reached systems like Alpha Centauri A and B, Proxima Centauri, Sirius A and B, Barnard's Star, Luyten 726-8 (BL Ceti and UV Ceti), Ross 154 (V1216 Sagittarii), and Wolf 359. These stars became the bedrock of the United Nations of Sol, the precursor to what would be known as the "Human Sphere." It was a time of unprecedented growth and prosperity for humanity, expanding further than ever before in its history.
As humans settled in these new worlds, they faced not only the physical challenges of new environments but also profound isolation and the psychological burden of being light-years away from Earth. Each colony developed its own way of life, adapting to the unique conditions of their new worlds. The challenges of establishing a foothold in these alien places were immense. Local resources were harvested, and technologies were adapted to create habitable atmospheres and viable ecosystems.
Communication between the colonies and Earth was sparse, limited by the vast distances. Each message took years to travel, even at the speed of light, making each colony effectively isolated in its own right. This isolation led to a variety of cultural evolutions and deviations from Earth's norms, which in turn led to a tapestry of diverse human experiences spread across the stars.
The technologies that allowed these pioneers to travel to and settle new worlds were monumental. Fusion drives, quantum computers, and terraforming equipment were standard on these ships. Life aboard the colony ships was a mix of awe at the cosmic vistas and the mundanity of daily life in confined spaces. Generations were born and died in transit, with only stories of Earth as their legacy.
Each new home was a gamble against the cosmos, and not all were successful. Some colonies failed tragically, and their populations were lost to space or were unable to survive in harsh new environments. But for every failure, there was a story of remarkable success and resilience. The human spirit, driven by a need to explore and expand, thrived in adversity. Humanity never gave up and, over the next century, continued to send colonists to each of these star systems and began the process of colonizing each system.
In the stark expanses of space, every new settlement humanity attempted was a stark challenge against the cosmos, and the failures were as common as the successes. Many colonies were lost—whole populations vanished into the void or succumbed to the inhospitable climes of unfamiliar planets. Despite these setbacks, for every outpost that fell, others sprang up in defiance of the odds, showcases of human resilience and determination.
This relentless push into the unknown was not powered by naïve optimism but rather a hardened will to forge a path, wherever possible, to lay claim to the stars themselves. Humanity's spirit, unbroken by repeated failures, continued to drive its expansion across galaxies. Over the decades, this resolve only hardened as each failed colony became a lesson in survival, a step towards mastering life in the cosmos.
The stark realities of space tested human resolve to its limits. Beyond the safety of the Solar System, the universe emerged not just as a vast place of exploration but as a harsh environment of extreme conditions and existential threats. The initial failures taught valuable lessons in logistics, life support, and sustainable living on alien soil, which were crucial for future endeavors.
Colonization efforts became more sophisticated over time. Humans developed technologies that could convert inhospitable terrains into somewhat livable habitats. Advanced terraforming equipment and life-support systems became standard in new colonies. These tools represented more than mere survival mechanisms; they were symbols of humanity's unyielding quest to inhabit the stars.
As colonies spread further into the galaxy, each new venture was underpinned by an increasingly detailed understanding of interstellar travel and survival. The experiences gathered from every failed settlement informed the next, creating a cumulative body of knowledge that bolstered human persistence. The drive to expand took on a rhythm of its own, a cycle of trial, error, and success that slowly but surely extended the reach of human civilization.
This cycle was reflected in the evolution of colonial policies and technologies. From the early days of rudimentary habitats to the development of massive, self-sustaining complexes that could house thousands, the growth was palpable. Each successful colony served as a proof of concept for the next. With each launch, humanity's footprint in the galaxy grew larger.
The colonies themselves varied wildly—a testament to human ingenuity and the diverse environments encountered. Some were burrowed into asteroids, others sprawled across red Martian sands or nestled in the volatile cloud tops of Venus. Each presented unique challenges and required bespoke solutions to make them habitable.
Interstellar ships, equipped with the latest in warp drive technology, ferried resources between these colonies. They were lifelines essential for maintaining the flow of essential supplies and personnel. These vessels were also carriers of culture and connection, linking distant humans across the void of space.
Despite the vast distances and slow communications, a network of human presence began to stitch together disparate points of light into a coherent tapestry of colonies. This network was more than a mere chain of outposts; it was the backbone of a burgeoning interstellar society—a network that held potential not only for survival but for a new era of human prosperity.
However, this expansion was not without its darker aspects. The harsh conditions of space required strict governance and often harsh penalties for breaches of colony protocol. Life in these new worlds was rigidly structured, a necessity to maintain order in environments where even a small mistake could be fatal.
Each new settlement was a dice roll against the vast uncertainties of space, and many did not survive. Failures were frequent; entire colonies vanished into the void or succumbed to the inhospitable conditions of their newfound planets. The loss of life was substantial, casting a shadow over the ambitious interstellar expansion efforts. However, each disaster also hardened the resolve of those who remained. The cumulative knowledge gained from these failures informed future endeavors, refining the protocols and technologies needed to endure and thrive in alien environments.
Despite the high stakes and frequent setbacks, human resolve remained unshaken. The determination to push forward, to establish a foothold in the cosmos, was fueled by necessity and the innate human drive to explore. As each failed colony became a lesson learned, the strategies for survival evolved. More robust life support systems were developed, and habitats were designed to be more adaptable to the unpredictable conditions of new worlds.
The stark reality of these endeavors was that many who left Earth would never return. They journeyed knowing the risks—trading the safety of their home planet for the promise of a new start on distant, uncharted worlds. This was the cost of progress, paid willingly by those driven by a vision of humanity's future among the stars.
With each new wave of colonists, technology and experience accumulated, reducing the risks and increasing the chances of success. Ships became more advanced, equipped with better navigation systems and life-support capabilities. Colonization techniques also improved, with genetic engineering playing a crucial role in adapting human physiology to extraterrestrial environments.
The harshness of space demanded a relentless pursuit of efficiency and sustainability. Resources were scarce, and logistical challenges were immense. The vast distances between colonies meant that each had to be largely self-sufficient. Communication lags, sometimes spanning years, forced these communities to develop a high degree of autonomy.
Over the centuries, this relentless expansion forged a new breed of human. These spacefarers were tough, adaptable, and fiercely independent. Their lives, spent on the frontier of human existence, were a testament to the species' tenacity. They cultivated their new worlds, turning barren landscapes into bustling colonies. These settlements eventually grew into hubs of culture and technology, distinct yet still connected to their ancestral home by shared history and common humanity.
Yet, the expansion was not without its darker aspects. The isolation of distant colonies often led to psychological strain and societal breakdown. In some cases, governance structures collapsed under the weight of external pressures and internal conflicts. Pirates and marauders, drawn by the wealth of fledgling colonies, became a significant threat, leading to the establishment of militarized zones and the deployment of defense forces.
As humans adapted to life in space, they also had to contend with the presence of other sentient species. Initial interactions were cautious and fraught with tension and misunderstandings. Some encounters led to conflict, others to alliances. These relationships were complex, shaped by a mix of diplomacy, trade, and, occasionally, warfare.
Humanity's venture into interstellar space fundamentally transformed its cultural and identity landscapes. As humans spread across the stars, encountering diverse environments and nurturing colonies on planets ranging from Mars to far-flung systems, the challenges of survival and the ethical dimensions of expansion pressed hard on their collective psyche.
Values long held sacred on Earth were reevaluated in the face of new realities. The discovery of life—fauna and flora—on other planets during these colonization efforts marked a pivotal shift. While no sentient alien species were encountered, the existence of alien ecosystems was profound. It highlighted not only humanity's isolation in the cosmos but also its responsibilities.
On Alpha Centauri, the first successful integration of Earth's lifeforms with alien biomes set a precedent. Genetic manipulation technologies were refined, allowing Earth's organisms to coexist with and enhance these extraterrestrial habitats. Conservation efforts were paramount; preserving the integrity and diversity of alien ecosystems became a moral imperative as much as a scientific endeavor.
Each colony, from the red dust of Mars to the lush jungles of distant exoplanets, became a testbed for these principles. They were microcosms where human ingenuity, ethical considerations, and ecological stewardship intersected. Through these experiences, humanity did not just spread through space; it grew, evolved, and redefined what it meant to be human in the vast expanse of the universe.
Through all these trials, the human spirit's resilience shone brightly. Never deterred by the enormity of their challenges, humans continued to push the boundaries of their known universe. Each colony, each ship, and each life represented a thread in the vast tapestry of human endeavor in space—a relentless march toward an uncertain but ceaselessly pursued future.
Chapter Two
Beginning of Entry…
StarDate: Redacted
Perspective: Noah Stark
Species: Human, Humanoid Mammalian Species, no tail.
Description: 5 feet 2 inches [1.6 meters] to 6 feet 9 inches [2.1 meters] average height. 185 lbs [84 kilograms] average weight.
Longevity: 70 to 500-year life expectancy with life extension medical tech.
Unique Trait: Resilience and Indomitable Will.
Vessel: ICV The Argonaut
Location: New Eden Star Cluster
Noah, his gaze locked on the viewport, watched the ancient ship float aimlessly among the asteroids. The ICV The Argonaut, under his skilled control, edged closer, enabling the deployment of EVA suits for inspection. Behind him, his mother, Gwendolyn Stark, and his sisters, Jane and Joan, prepared for the walk, their movements a blend of anticipation and professionalism. The ship, a silent relic of a bygone era, revealed no signs of life, a fact confirmed by both Shinra Hinaba and Serenity, the Argonaut's AI.
This discovery, hidden among the celestial debris, was a treasure. It wasn't just a ship; it was a gateway to unparalleled recognition for the Shinra-Stark-Daiwa Mining Group. While the Argonaut and its crew focused on this historical artifact, the rest of the fleet mined the surrounding asteroids, harvesting resources critical for the survival of distant colonies.
Hinaba's voice, laced with a mix of excitement and concern, snapped Noah back to the present. "Focus, Noah!" she said, her fist-bumping Noah's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "We've got a lot riding on bringing this ship in intact."
"I know, I know! Just relax, Hinaba! I've got this," Noah assured her, his attention riveted to the controls. His reputation as the fleet's top pilot wasn't unfounded, a fact even the skeptical private military contractors had come to acknowledge. Almost as if summoned by their conversation, the Director's face appeared on the communications screen next to Hinaba, an uncanny timing that suggested he was closely monitoring their progress.
It was then that Director Shinra Senzo's image flickered onto the communications screen, his timing almost too perfect. "What's your status, Noah?" he asked, a brief glance toward his daughter betraying his deeper concerns. Despite his reservations about Noah's closeness with Hinaba, he was willing to see where their partnership might lead, a stance influenced by discussions with Noah's father.
"We're in!" Gwendolyn's voice crackled through the comms, marking their successful approach. But their moment of triumph was shattered by a distress signal, a desperate call cutting through the static. Elaine and Beth Frost, Noah's cousins, scrambled to decipher it, their faces etched with growing alarm.
After a tense moment, Beth's face drained of color, but it was Eliane who eventually shared the grim news, which was dire: "An unknown force has attacked New Eden. Their defenses are falling…" The weight of their words hung heavy in the bridge. An unseen adversary had breached the colony's defenses, leaving them vulnerable. The realization that any hope of immediate assistance from the USSA or SFR was weeks or even a full stellar month away if at all, underscored the gravity of their situation. With the defense fleet in ruins, their only hope lay with the ICV Ishimura, and the hired PMC mercenary group onboard, initially engaged to fend off pirates, might now be their only hope against this new and formidable threat.
Silence enveloped the bridge as the magnitude of the crisis dawned on them. They were alone, far from help, facing a threat of unknown proportions. Noah felt a tightness in his jaw, anger and resolve mixing in equal measure. The prospect of what lay ahead was daunting, yet there was no room for doubt. They had to act swiftly.
Gwendolyn's voice broke the silence, her command clear. "We need to act, and quickly. Our priority is the safety of this crew and ensuring we can lend aid to New Eden. Noah, plot a course back. We have to prepare for what's to come."
Hinaba, her usual levity gone, nodded. "We have the Ishimura, and we're not defenseless. Let's make sure we're ready for whatever's out there."
As Noah adjusted the ship's course, a sense of determined urgency took hold. They were heading back, not just to confront a threat, but to defend their home, their people.
Director Senzo's voice crackled through the communication channel, his tone tinged with impatience yet seeking reassurance. "It would be great to know what the status of your progress is, Noah," he pressed, his words carrying a sense of urgency.
Noah could sense the weight of expectation in Director Senzo's inquiry. Despite the pressure, Noah remained composed, and his years of experience in the field allowed him to maintain a calm demeanor even in the face of such scrutiny. With a steady voice, he replied, "We're making steady progress, Director. I'll provide you with a detailed update shortly."

He paused as he focused on the holo-Feed in front of him and analyzed the available data in real-time thanks to his military-grade holo-NeuralSyne Implant. "We're adjusting course," Noah replied, his tone firm yet marked by an undercurrent of urgency. "Heading back to New Eden. We'll be ready." 

In the silence that followed, a collective resolve fortified them. They were facing the unknown, as the derelict ship could bring untold bounty from within its hull.
Director Senzo's command carved through the static a clear mandate that reset their priorities. "Noah, before you depart the asteroid belt, I am dispatching a Porter Tug to commandeer the derelict ship. It's our top priority... Get that ship secure before you Skip Jump back to the ICV Argos-1. That is a Prime Directive!" His voice, a blend of authority and urgency, left no room for debate.
Noah, hands steady on the controls, glanced briefly at the communications panel. The weight of the directive pressed into him, a stark reminder of the stakes involved. He turned, catching the gaze of his crew, a silent signal that it was time to adapt their plan. The crew exchanged quick, significant glances, each understanding the gravity of the order. The derelict ship, an ancient relic floating among the asteroids, was not just another find—it was a piece of history, potentially holding untold knowledge and value. The directive from Director Shinra Senzo underscored its importance, not just to their mission but to the broader ambitions of the Shinra-Stark-Daiwa Mining Group.
Noah's mind went back over the meaning of what such an order entailed. Refusing to follow the directive would most certainly spell the end of his career. On one hand, he wanted to help those in need and who were under siege by an unknown force. The New Eden Star Cluster was not just a single system but a series of star systems in close proximity to one another. Noah and the rest of the ICV Argos-1 collective fleet were mining ore around Eden-159; currently, the planets were still being colonized, but in ten years, that would change. Our job was to mine ore to return to Eden-109, one of the 1,119 star systems in the New Eden Cluster.
The directive was clear: any new discovery in the outer rims of human space takes top priority above all other mandates, and the crew of The Argonaut was ready. Despite the risks, the potential rewards were too significant to ignore. As preparations for the operation began in earnest, the sense of unity and purpose among the crew was palpable. Each member knew their role and was prepared to execute it with precision. Noah Stark, standing firm at the helm, nodded sharply. "Understood, Director. We'll secure the derelict and rendezvous with the Argos-1 as planned." His voice was calm, a stark contrast to the racing thoughts behind his composed exterior. The task was daunting, yet his confidence in his crew's abilities was unshakeable.
Shinra Hinaba, her eyes reflecting a mix of determination and concern, shifted in her search. Her fingers were already dancing across the console, setting up communication channels. Her role as the ship's specialist meant she was well-versed in the technicalities of such operations, and her confidence was discernible. "We'll need to coordinate with the tug. I can set up a direct comms link and guide their approach." Her voice, usually light and teasing in their private moments, now carried the professional edge of her role.
Gwendolyn Stark, the matriarch and seasoned explorer, nodded in agreement. "Time is of the essence. Let's secure that ship and make sure it's safe for the tug. We can't afford any delays." Her experience shone through, her demeanor calm yet commanding, rallying her children and the crew with a few choice words. "Everything is by the book. This ship could be a significant find for us," she stated, her voice firm.
Elaine, renowned for her cool demeanor under pressure, exchanged a glance of shared determination with Beth. With a nod, they moved to their stations, their movements precise and efficient, a testament to years of seamless coordination in the face of adversity.
Beth, known for her unwavering focus and quick thinking, shared a silent understanding with Elaine. Together, they pivoted to their respective stations, their synchronization seamless and instinctual. In the heart of chaos, their unity forged a stronghold of resolve, a beacon of stability amid the storm.
"We're on it, Mom," Elaine stated, her hands flying over her console, prepping the EVA suits for another walk.
Beth said decisively, "We'll be ready to assist the Tug team with anything they need." Beth nodded in agreement, both sisters moving to gather the necessary gear. Their well-honed skills in extravehicular activities made them indispensable for the task at hand.
Elaine intonated as she focused on the external sensors: "I'll keep an eye out for any debris or potential hazards for the tug. We don't want any surprises."
Grace Frost, the voice of strategy and foresight, considered the logistics. "Once the ship is secure, we'll need to plot a careful course back. The extra mass will affect our jump calculations."
Jennifer Stark, my youngest sister, a blend of youth and sharp intellect, nodded. Jennifer's hands moved to assist Shinra with the communications setup. Meanwhile, Jamie reviewed the ship's specs, ensuring they had all the data needed for a smooth operation. "Let's ensure we have all the data we need for a smooth operation," she said, her tone serious, betraying the gravity of their task.
Jamie Stark, also my youngest sister, focused on the ship's specs. Her hands moved deftly over the controls as she reviewed the data. "Absolutely," she chimed in, her voice steady as she continued her meticulous review. "We can't afford any oversights if we want this mission to succeed." Her words echoed Jennifer's sentiment, highlighting the importance of thorough preparation.
Jamie added, "I'll run a diagnostic on the derelict's structural integrity. We need to know it can withstand the jump."
Director Senzo's image flickered on the screen once more, a stern reminder of the urgency. "Even if you return now, the fleet can't make the FTL jump until all ships have returned to their hangars and docking bays. You have time to tug the derelict ship back to the ICV Argos-1."
Noah, absorbing every detail, finally responded. "Understood, Director. We'll secure the ship and ensure it's ready for the tug. Argonaut out." His voice, firm and confident, belied the racing thoughts of potential complications and the precision required for their new task.
The directive was clear, and the crew of the Argonaut was ready. Despite the risks, the potential rewards were too significant to ignore. As preparations for the operation began in earnest, the sense of unity and purpose among the crew was palpable. The bridge buzzed with activity, each member of the crew moving with purposeful speed. The Argonaut, once a silent observer among the stars, was now a hive of focused energy, ready to execute a directive that could very well shift the balance of their task. Each member knew their role and was prepared to execute it with precision. The arduous task of securing the derelict ship was directive from above; it was a challenge they were all eager to meet head-on.
"Let's get to work," Noah said, his gaze sweeping over his crew and his family. "We have a ship to secure." His statement, simple yet laden with unspoken responsibility, set them into motion, each person aware of the part they played in the intricate dance of space exploration and survival. Aboard the Argonaut, there was no room for doubt. Only action, determination, and the collective will to succeed in the face of the unknown. Then, they would make the FTL jump to Eden-109 to aid the colonists under siege.
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So, having found my way back to the wars after a long hiatus that has seen the fragmentation of my lance, the death of our war master and the birth of my children who wish to fight the clan scum along side Dad I have found myself in a somewhat unique'ish situation.
In the intervening decades I went and got myself trained as a 2d/3d draftsman and somehow acquired the skills and tools necessary to create sprawling environments.
The rub comes that we, my lance and I, were never into tabletop or miniatures, it was all hex graphing notebooks, tokens and "your imagination". And so, I am somewhat lacking in how do hexmaps "do".
So with a hex being 30m flat to flat, that yeilds ~780m² (technically 779.4229 but I'm willing to chalk it up to metrology error) per hex; the physics of a battlemech sharing a hex with infantry and mechanized infantry, armor and artillery etc makes sense: they are where the legs aren't but how many fit in a hex? Not like a breaching stack but how do we handle two friendly mechs transiting a hex, say the mouth of a canyon.
Next up, unlike our bubble verse timeline where we developed rectilinear architectural and grid based Cartesian mapping systems, I have to only assume that in the BT bubble, they developed a hexalinear system because why else would there be hexagonal natural features (unless of course the whole hexagonal water thing IS true?!?) and hexagonal building systems etc. I cannot see a system where 30m wide roads are the norm so do you all just develop a "square" urban/suburban/industrial space and lay a hex grid over it?
To tie this all together I have the capacity to do civil drafting in Autocad in 2d from a plan view, add elevation isolines and do some elevation extrusion to create actual terrain and/or create a simplified land form with a corresponding elevation profile, say a long run of valley flanked by hills and plains. Additionally, an urban system is simple enough to do on a NY grid, DC radian grid or even an old world grape bunch plan. Biome can likewise be shown via hatch patterns & colors and the whole thing could be displayed simply with iso lines for elevations on an E sheet.
Many jumps in the past I found that a number of coworkers were involved with the SCA and we did some work together which culminated in the preparation of a D&D hex map in plywood scaled to their miniatures and using model railroad trees etc. it was a mountain with valleys and some plains with forests all fitted to a folding ping-pong table. I'd love to do something like that again but I don't have free access to a cnc router and a growing pile of off fall anymore, I can schedule and pay for it but baby steps, gotta see how deep the lads wish to go first.

OOC: co-written with NotTooSunny
It was an ordinary day at the New York City Library. People wandered in and out of the building, unaware of the monster that lurked among them.
The only people who seemed to know the danger these mortals were in were Harper and Amon, who entered the building with glowing bronze swords at their hips. The bulky weapons seemed to have escaped the notice of the other library patrons, which was a good thing. The job description had made it clear that they were meant to remain inconspicuous in completing their task.
Harper had traded her usual bright orange camp shirt for a more discrete cropped black t-shirt and pleated pants. She had been insistent on coming up with a persona for them on the train ride from Montauk Station into New York City. They were meant to act as high school students researching for a World History paper on Ancient Greece. Now that they were inside the library, she had stopped her incessant rambling to peruse a riddle book, in what she had insisted was preparation for their job.
As they wandered through the bookshelves, she remained absorbed in the dog-eared children’s book, thumbing through the pages to find a riddle that would be fitting of a sphinx.
“Here’s one, Amon,” she said, narrowly avoiding a collision with another library patron as she read, “What is something that runs but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?”
The dark-haired son of Apollo glanced over from a shelf of dusty atlases, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “That is an easy one,” he replied simply. "River. Try me with something more challenging next time around." He adjusted the collar of his striped button down, which he had layered with a navy blue sweater in preparation for the chill of the air-conditioned interior.
“The real riddle is where we can find this sphinx,” Amon glanced around the spacious reading area, eyeing the dark wooden staircase with its ornate railings. “The boyfriend and girlfriend who tried this last time, they found her by a bookcase.”
“A bookcase,” Harper repeated derisively, closing her book to theatrically scan their surroundings. “That narrows it down.”
Ignoring Harper’s mockery, the son of Apollo paused suddenly, his dark eyes glazing over with concentration. His hearing dulled, the surrounding footsteps and rustling pages fading into the background as if muffled by a thick curtain. Amon searched for the energy signature of the monster he knew lurked among the mortals. It was a subtle shift, like trying to discern a whisper in a crowded room, but he felt a faint, abnormal energy hanging somewhere up above.
“I say we try the second floor,” he said as he snapped out of the tracking trance, offering no other explanation to Harper.
“We could do that, sure,” Harper said, words laced with blatant doubt at his sudden certainty. “I say we try asking the Visitor’s Center. I know she's supposed to be disguised by the Mist, but the librarians have to have noticed something.”
“You can go ahead and do that.” The small smirk from earlier was now spreading across his face. “But you can’t be upset if I find the sphinx and solve her riddle before you even get there.”
Harper rolled her eyes, but she made no attempt to stop Amon from walking towards the staircase. After a moment she set off after him, footsteps even against the wooden steps.
Up on the second floor, Amon moved quietly, his dark eyes scanning the hallway for anything out of the ordinary.
I know you’re up here.
He stopped at every heavy-looking mahogany door, peering through each muted glass insert. He felt the air grow thicker with ominous energy at every step, so he knew the monster must be near.
One of the doors was slightly ajar, a suspiciously open invitation. Or a trap. The dark-haired boy caught sight of a cat-shaped figure on the other side before ducking down and motioning sharply for Harper’s attention. He unsheathed his kopis from his belt, bracing himself for confrontation.
Harper crouched against the wall, hand on the hilt of her sword as she tried to peek through the frosted glass pane. She held her breath, ready to move at Amon’s signal. He held out three fingers and then put them down one by one. When he hit zero, they stood in unison, flinging the door open together.
When Amon and Harper stepped inside, the body of the sphinx lay motionless on the floor.
The rest of the room was in disarray, littered with disheveled chairs and broken bits of chalk. A window on the other side of the room had been forced open, the curtain fluttering in the wind.
“No way,” Harper said. The door clicked shut behind her as she pushed past Amon into the room and kneeled to study the monster’s limp figure.
The sphinx had the large body of a lion and the eerily human face of a middle-aged woman, hair tied back in a severe bun and foundation caked onto her high cheekbones. Fangs jutted out of her red-painted lips, and eagle wings sprouted out of the space between her shoulder blades, folded tight against her back.
“Monsters dissolve into dust when they die,” Amon remarked, keeping his distance as he watched the subtle rise and fall of the monster’s ribs. “She must have been knocked unconscious.”
“Right,” Harper agreed, “The real question is who. And why.”
She hovered a hand over the cat's shoulder, set on rousing her. Before she made contact, the sphinx's eyes snapped open, round irises surrounded by shocking yellow sclera.
"Slain!" she wailed. Harper staggered backwards. Amon’s arms instinctively reached out to catch her, but she didn’t stumble near enough to make contact. "I am slain!"
With feline grace, the sphinx rose to her feet. A white tape outline marked the placement of her previously prone body on the floor. The muscles in her legs rippled as she paced in front of Harper and Amon, massive velvet paws silent against the carpet.
"And you, my dear heroes," she roared, eyes narrowed in an accusatory glare, "were too late to save me!"
The sphinx sniffed, composing herself. She leapt onto a wooden table. The table legs creaked underneath her weight. "Fear not," she tutted, "Fear not. For you can still avenge me. If you are able to determine the murderer and their weapon, then I will obtain justice, and all will be right with the world.”
“Your riddle is a murder mystery,” Harper said, confusion written across her face. Amon raised an eyebrow. The sphinx chuffed, a low rumbling sound reminiscent of laughter.
“You sought that hackneyed question about man? The Sphinx that the storytellers remember is far less adaptive than I am. I am not interested in your ability to regurgitate the information you have read. Nor am I interested in taking advantage of the nonsensical rules of your English language.”
“I am here to satisfy my own curiosity: does modern mankind still possess the ability to engage in deductive reasoning, or do they only seek to make themselves appear intelligent? Do not speak,” the sphinx said, a pointed look at Harper, who had opened her mouth to interject, “You will answer my questions when you play my game.”
“The potential murder weapons are scattered throughout this room,” she continued, leaping off the table. “And the suspects have already provided their testimonies for your review. Rest assured, I have made certain that their statements contain no lies.”
A shimmering, translucent energy began to swirl around Harper and Amon’s feet, beginning to take shape as holograms with a flickering, ephemeral quality.
A projection of Cerberus materialized first, his three massive heads snarling and snapping in unison. A ribbon of text appeared by his paws to translate his growling: "I was guarding the entrance, my duty unbroken."
Next came the Minotaur, his towering form pacing within the labyrinth on Crete. He snorted and pawed at the ground, the holographic maze shifting behind him in the background. The translation text appeared: "Confined within these walls, no escape for me."
Lamia's projection flickered into view, her serpentine lower half coiled around her as she wept in her cave. She glanced mournfully at the holographic images of her lost children: "My grief consumes me, innocent of this crime."
A shimmering Hydra emerged next, its nine heads snapping at invisible foes. Each one moved independently, showcasing its ability to act on its own. The translation for the hissing head at the center read: "Engaged in battle, I could not have killed."
Typhon materialized with a thunderous roar, his colossal form fighting against restraints under Mount Etna. His immense size and power were palpable, even in scaled down holographic form: "Bound by chains of the earth, I could not have roamed free."
Echidna’s hologram appeared last, her form a mix of human and serpent, lounging in a dimly lit cave. She looked directly at the viewers, her expression both defiant and amused. The translation text by her side read: “I dwell in my lair, uninvolved in such petty affairs.”
The sphinx swiped at the last projection as it faded, deeming her handiwork satisfactory. “There is not enough information to deduce the killer using evidence alone. Because I am fair, I will provide you with three hints before your final guess. Be forewarned: if you fail to provide a correct answer, you will both perish. Is this understood?”
Harper spoke. “If we answer correctly, you will leave this library for good.”
“If you answer correctly, I will permanently relocate. It is a preferable option in comparison to another death. Now, do you agree to the terms and conditions?” the sphinx said primly, regarding Harper and Amon with casual disdain. The pair nodded. “Very well.”
The sphinx dropped onto the floor and let her head loll back, pretending to be dead once more.
Hint #1

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

Soon after the Sphinx had laid back down, Harper and Amon began to scour the room. A small pile of prospective murder weapons formed on a nearby table.
“We can easily eliminate the siren song,” Amon rushed to speak over Harper, eyeing the small glass vial of swirling gray matter that they had found nestled behind a row of books on metalworking. “It is a luring mechanism, not a murder weapon.”
“We could rule out Cerberus’ fang too,” he pointed at the enormous yellowing tooth, about the size of the small baseball bat Amon used to have when he played in the little league. “If we take the hologram as ground truth, all of his teeth were intact there.”
Harper used her kopis to prod at the stained tunic that had been hidden in a desk drawer, being careful not to touch it with bare skin. “The Shirt of Nessus is a viable option. It would be easy for any of the suspects to lay it down and wait for the hydra venom to kick in.”
“I am not ready to rule out the bronze sword either,” Amon noted. “Monsters have access to heroes and the weapons they leave behind.”
“Most of these monsters don’t even have opposable thumbs,” Harper argued, running a hand over the sword they had found by a power outlet. ”They don’t have the dexterity to wield a sword.”
“I do not imagine that the technicality would be that granular.”
Harper laughed. “Oh, the number of teeth in the Cerberus hologram tell all, but we’re drawing the line at opposable thumbs.”
“I suppose that that logic would also rule out the harpy talon and the encyclopedia easily as well,” Amon admitted. “Which would be too easy.”
“I’m just that good at logical deduction.” Harper said proudly. “If my assumption is correct, then the poisoned shirt is the only one that makes sense.”
Amon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest as his dark eyes bored into Harper. “It would not necessarily matter what our first guess would be anyway.”
“Can you provide an argument for any other weapon? Or are you intent on purposely making an illogical guess?” she countered cooly.
“Fine,” Amon acquiesced. “Since you are so adamant about the shirt, we can guess the shirt, and be incorrect. It does not matter. What about the suspects themselves?” He clasped his hands behind his back, his steps measured as he started to pace across the plush red carpet of the room.
Harper smiled, smugly accepting her victory. She strode towards a chalkboard at the side of the study room, inscribing the list of weapons and suspects with a fresh piece of white chalk.
“All of them have alibis,“ she began. “I think that-”
“Some make more sense than others,” Amon spoke over Harper, irritated by her minor triumph. “Cerberus, for example, is under the service of Hades. He says he did not leave his post, and he could not have done so without permission or dire consequences on the process of the dead.”
Harper silently seethed as Amon spoke, meeting his rationale with reluctant acceptance before starting again in a louder, exaggerated tone. “I think that the ones with the shakiest alibis are Lamia, the Minotaur, Typhon, and Echidna. No witnesses can confirm their locations. In fact, Lamia provides no location at all.” Harper circled those names. She looked at Amon with a forced smile, allowing him a moment to provide more commentary.
“Lamia? Well,” there was a hint of mockery in the sneer that tugged on the corner of Amon’s lips. “I would imagine her emotions rendered her… Too fragile and unstable to carry out such an act.”
“You’re kidding,” Harper scoffed, searching Amon's face for the slightest hint that he was joking. “Her grief is what moved her to kill children in the first place. I doubt it would suddenly be incapacitating. She’s just appealing to your sense of superiority, and I can’t believe that you’re falling for it.”
"It is not about superiority. It is about logic," Amon retorted, bristling in defense. “You cannot deny that emotions cloud judgment. Maybe the sphinx wants us to leverage our knowledge about her past crimes to reason that she was not thinking clearly in this case either.” Amon had no other evidence that pointed towards Lamia as the top suspect, but he had dug deep enough where he was now ready to stand firm in his reasoning.
“Murder,” Harper countered, eyes narrowed in a venomous stare, “-does not require you to think clearly. Haven’t you heard of a crime of passion? If anyone’s judgment is clouded right now, Amon, it’s yours.”
The son of Apollo squared his shoulders, his expression hardening. "I understand the concept of crimes of passion, thank you.” His dark-eyed stare returned Harper's gaze, unflinching at the intensity. “But our investigation must be rooted in facts, not assumptions based on emotions. And the facts are,” he resumed his pacing once more, “that Lamia cannot be the culprit, as she is the only suspect that openly admits to being innocent of this crime.”
Amon had considered this from the very start, but provoking Harper like this had proved to be far more amusing.
Harper crossed Lamia’s name off of the board. She swallowed down her anger, fighting the urge to continue pressing the issue in favor of returning to their list of suspects. She pointed her piece of chalk at the next names on the list. “The Minotaur and Typhon are trapped, or so they say. How could they have done anything?”
“Their alibis revolve around their inability to escape,” Amon pointed out. “Not that they were unable to commit murder. The Labyrinth, in fact,” he raised a dramatic finger, “has several moving passages that could have permitted the Minotaur to move and commit murder without an official escape.”
Harper considered his words for a long moment, trying to find the flaw in his reasoning. Seeing none, she placed a dot next to the Minotaurs's name.
“Typhon escaped his prison in the Second Titanomachy. He could do it again,” Harper said thoughtfully. “Though I don’t understand why he would do something like this. He’s the Sphinx's father. The same goes for Echidna.”
Amon, who had been nodding at Harper’s assessment of Typhon’s abilities, pursed his lips at her observation of parentage. “I do not see how this could possibly be relevant to the logical puzzle at hand.”
Harper spoke slowly, as if the answer was obvious. “What motive would they have to kill their own daughter?”
“Harper,” Amon began curtly, folding his arms across his chest. “Half of the Greek myths revolve around immortals killing their own children.”
“Then we should pick one of them,” Harper declared, pivoting her argument instead of admitting her logical blunder. “They would have more of a motive than the rest of the suspects, if anything.”
“The Minotaur can escape much more easily than Typhon can. Motive aside, it is the most logical guess,” Amon concluded, adjusting his collar haughtily. “I will remind you that we picked your choice of weapon. It is only fair that I select the monster.”
“Fine.” Harper agreed, her gaze stormy as she turned back towards the sphinx. “We accuse the Minotaur of killing the sphinx with the Shirt of Nessus.”
The sphinx opened one eye. “None of these are correct!”
Hint #2

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

“Two more hints left.” Harper announced, crossing off the Minotaur’s name and the poisoned shirt on the chalkboard with a flourish. It was not ideal that her initial logical deductions had been incorrect, but at least Amon had also been wrong. She couldn't resist a snide comment. “I knew it wasn’t the Minotaur.”
“So you still think it’s Typhon.” Choosing to ignore Harper’s taunting, Amon rested his hand on a nearby desk, studying the lists on the chalkboard before him. He had taken the Minotaur error as a personal failure, and was determined to get the suspect right this time.
“I do.”
“Why not Echidna?”
“She’s too emotional to kill someone, obviously.” Harper said sarcastically. “Her frail female arms are probably too weak to even hold a weapon.”
The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. “Objectively,” he began, ignoring her quip once more, “Typhon could not have lied about his inability to roam free. A natural disaster freed him from Mount Etna during the Second Titanomachy, but he could not recreate those conditions on his own.” Though his tone remained aloof, it was clear that Amon was relishing in the opportunity to flaunt his mythology knowledge.
“Maybe,” Harper argued, stubborn. “But Echidna’s statement was less ambiguous than his. Typhon just explains his predicament; he doesn't provide a real claim. Echidna explicitly says she was not involved.” She thought for a few more moments, rolling the piece of chalk in her hands. “Echidna could have released him? They would be accomplices.”
Amon shook his head. “There was a single murderer. Not two. The sphinx would not lie about the premise of the game.”
Harper stared at him coldly, but could offer no rebuttal. She turned her attention to the board. “Typhon is a giant. He’s capable of using the sword.”
“But the specificity of Echidna’s denial is still incredibly suspicious. ‘Petty affairs’ is a strange way to phrase a murder. But,” Amon added reluctantly, “I understand the logic behind Typhon. I suppose it is your turn to choose the monster, and we will still have another guess to work with.”
“As for the weapon,” he continued, “I still think the sword is the most viable option, given that the siren song and the fang can be ruled out and the shirt with the venom was, well,” Amon pursed his lips, fighting the urge to smile, “incorrect.”
Before Harper could interject, Amon turned towards the sphinx at the front of the room. “We accuse Typhon of killing the sphinx with a Celestial Bronze Sword.”
“One of these is correct!”
Hint #3

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

“Aha!” Amon raised a triumphant finger before pointing it at Harper. “I told you,” he gloated, “Typhon had no escape route.”
“You were right,” Harper admitted, staring down at the carpet so that she would not have to look at his smug expression.
“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, and turned back towards the lioness with crossed arms. “We accuse Echidna of killing the sphinx with a Celestial Bronze Sword”
“One of these is correct,” the sphinx announced. Her mouth twisted in amusement, fangs bared in a menacing smile.
READ PART 2 HERE

Ok this is gonna be a very long, rambling, and probably somewhat disorganized post, so please bear with me.
I'm sure other people have had this same idea as well, but I'm not subscribed to the rebornevo forums and I'm not very active on this subreddit either, so I don't know how frequently it's been discussed outside of the small number of times I've seen it on Twitter, which still was after I had the thought when I first played V12 years ago. Even if it is I still wanted to try and organize my thoughts about it and present all of the evidence that brought me to think this even without engaging much with the larger community.
To jump right into it, the theory that I've been subscribing to for a pretty long time and was very confident in (until realizing some flaws with it) is that Madame X is the incarnation of Nymiera from Maria(nette)'s now dead universe, which is likely the same universe that Clear, Kieran, and potentially the Thunder Warrior Tapu Koko are from. She was defeated by her universe's Indriad but somehow managed to escape with her life, albeit badly injured, and was effectively out of commission, which led to Indriad eventually being able to bring about Storm 9 which would eventually lead to the end the world. Nymiera then likely got help from either her world's Xara and Jean, or Clear and Kieran themselves to construct her suit and escape to the next universe.
There's quite a few reasons I have to think this. I feel like a ton of evidence from throughout the game supports the idea, and I've been making note of them for years at this point. This is gonna be a bit meandering, but it's really difficult to organize thoughts about a plot as complicated as Rejuv's even if you're focusing on only one character, so again please bear with me:

• The most obvious point is that Madame X shows up directly in the prologue, to the Maria that becomes the one we meet in the Chrysalis manor. She clearly already has some amount of control over time at this point as well, meaning she had likely already claimed her world's time diamond but was unable to stop Indriad using it.
• Nymiera clearly still remembers the old world we learn about in the Third Layer. She knows Adrest by name and recognizes his presence within the player, hints at the emergence of the Zeight in the present day, and knows about the Archetype. Madame X, in the first cutscene where she's introduced at Blacksteeple, immediately refers to the player as the Interceptor, and she also clearly recognizes the power the Melia gains from the Archetype in the Bad Future. They in general seem to possess similar knowledge of major concepts like these.
  • Although you could argue that she might simply have learned about these things from Clear and Kieran, the fact that we see Madame X specifically talking to Maria in the prologue shows that she was at least aware of the Archetype already.
• This is an admittedly very small point that is potentially a coincidence, but I still want to acknowledge it: Madame X's suit seems to be evoking the image of a dragon and mostly uses dark colors. The two characters that we know are directly descended from Nymiera, Alexandra and Damian, favor Dragon and Dark type Pokemon, respectively.
• We know that Nymiera dual wielded crystal swords as her primary weapons rather than relying on Pokemon, and Madame X engages in combat almost exclusively with her sword. The only exception that we see is her attacking the player with her Yveltal at Blacksteeple Castle.
• We see the aforementioned crystal swords, as well as the corpse of Hazuki's Aegislash, within the storage room of the Chrysalis Manor, which all but confirms that Nymiera and the Defenders of Aevium were soundly defeated by Indriad in this timeline and he claimed their weapons as trophies.
  • As a small thought on the full fate of her world's defenders: Vivian was already dead because of the botched ritual, Hazuki was most likely killed, Anju was defeated but taken alive and imprisoned, likely to act as a potential vessel for Indriad (which is something I'd also like to talk about but that's best saved for another post). Given how cruel of a man Indriad is and how much he likes to torment people, I think that crippling Nymiera so she could no longer stand against him and then forcing her to live with the pain of her failure sounds like the type of thing he'd do. This is more of a headcanon, though, not something I'm actually trying to present as a major evidence for the theory.
• Because of .Karma Files we have explicit confirmation that Nymiera is an incarnation of Xerneas; it's a little on the nose for sure, but this can explain why she so heavily associates with the letter X, including why she took her name and took the name of Team Xen for her own, new organization even though it otherwise seems to be completely unrelated to the Team Xen of the Miera Region.
• If her mask is destroyed at the Pyramid, and she's effectively defeated prior to Clear and Kieran's intervention, she makes a remark about how the battle would have gone differently if not for her suit. It's vague, yes, but the implication is that the suit places some sort of limit on her power and she'd be far stronger without it, as while wearing it she can't fight at full capacity. This explains why she only wields one sword instead of two, as she likely can't dual wield without her full physical strength.
  • This next bit is straying into headcanon territory, so I don't fully count it for the theory, but we don't know exactly why she's wearing the suit; it's definitely not just to hide her identity, because there'd be far easier ways of doing that. I like to think that it's necessary for her to survive and limits her power to keep her from overexerting herself, similar to Darth Vader's suit from Star Wars. This would make sense with the idea I have that she was grievously wounded by Indriad even though she survived her fight with him.
• We know that there's a second Blacksteeple Castle on the same island that's hidden behind a protective barrier, which only Madame X can pass through. It's likely that this is the original Blacksteeple Castle and the one that we occupy during the prison arc is just a replica. We see in the Bad Future that Blacksteeple Castle has some sort of connection to Nymiera with the mosaic that we see. It's confirmed by Madame X that Blacksteeple was once Nymiera's castle, that she lost in the war mentioned in the legend that Nymiera tells to us. This would explain why Madame X is so protective of the original castle in the present day and why she can access it.
  • This would also explain why so much Xerneas iconography is still included in the replica of the castle.
• We already know from the Regi sidequests in V13.5 that Nymiera's view of morality was a bit... warped, and she was willing to do some truly inhumane and manipulative shit if she thought it was necessary for the good of the many. Madame X's methods are obviously far more extreme than Nymiera's ever were, but even though her motivations and ultimate goal are unclear there's still hints that all of the things she's responsible for are, to her, just a means to an end. If Madame X is Nymiera, with her spirit having been broken by her failure to stop her world's Indriad, it's not hard to see how that already warped "Good of the many no matter the cost" mentality could evolve into doing absolutely anything to achieve her goals.
• The underground chamber in Kugearen where we find the Weird Diary has a lot going on, but the notable things are the statues of the Defenders,drawing of the Archetype, and map of present day Aevium. Hazuki's is missing, and Anju and Nymiera's are destroyed, with the game specifically noting that their eyes are torn out. There is no statue of Hazuki, and Vivian's is not only intact, but poised for battle. To break this all down a bit:
  • The Archetype symbol being so prominent as well as the present-day map show that it's someone who can both time travel and knows about the Archetype
  • The three statues are of the Defenders that we know will suffer a poor fate.
    • Hazuki's is missing because she is the only that survived.
    • Vivian's is standing and complete because she was the only one able to mostly die on her own terms, but her spirit still struggled because of the failed spell; being poised for battle still lines up with the curse placed on her reincarnations.
    • Anju and Nymiera are both missing in the present day and were never seen again. Anju's fate is ambiguous, but obviously there's something going on with Angie (Which I have another theory about, but again, story for another post). Nymiera's spirit has appeared, but clearly can only do so much, as her only real act aside from talking to the player is transferring Hazuki's power to Saki.
  • Nymiera fancied herself an artist, and seemed to especially like working with stone given the many statues in Blacksteeple as well as the multiple stone carvings in her room.
  • All of this points to someone who can reliably time travel, knows of the archetype, has knowledge of Rift Pokemon, and has an intimate knowledge of the Defenders and their fates. Madame X is the only person who meets all of those first few qualifications, and it's also worth noting that Madame X's suit distinctly lacks eyes, similar to the two statues.

Essentially, the image I see with this is a Nymiera who became so disgusted at her own failures that she threw everything away, including her old identity, and and decided the best way to create a good world was to tear everything down and rebuild it herself, taking her belief in "The good of the many" to its furthest extreme and becoming a vengeful and bitter person in the process. She keeps "protecting" the Interceptor in hopes that their own quest will eventually guide them to resetting everything and destroying Karma for good.
However... in the process of thinking through this all over the last couple days, I realized several holes in this theory that I have to acknowledge, and keep it from really being an effective one.
First, if Nymiera is the avatar of Xerneas, then why is Madame X only ever seen using a Yveltal?
Second, the one aspect of Madame X's backstory story that she elected to reveal to us is about her mother. In her own words, "My "mother" was a weak individual who gave her life to protect me". Not only does Nymiera never hint at anything remotely similar this, but none of Adrest, Variya, or any of the files Adrest sends to Erin hint at anything even remotely close to this for Nymiera.
Third, which I think is the biggest issue: when we see Madame X's mask get broken by Sakitron at the pyramid, what little we see of her appearance doesn't exactly match up with Nymiera. What appears to be black hair could also just be a broken piece of her mask, her eyes are a bright red, and even though we barely see any skin, it visibly is not as dark as Nymiera's.
The first point is actually pretty easy to explain: the Yveltal is Indriad. Obviously we don't know how Indriad became a Yveltal, but there is precedent for shit like this happening and there's multiple hints towards it:

• Indriad is confirmed at the end of .Karma files is an avatar of Yveltal in the same way that Nymiera is one of Xerneas.
• In the Bad Future, when Melanie summons her Yveltal, she explicitly refers to it as her father. Melanie is a bad future version of Melia, Melia is in some capacity connected to Maria and is still explicitly related to Indriad's kids, the implication is pretty clear.
• There are other physical avatars of legendaries in the game: Spacea and Tiempa, who both can transform into the legendaries they are the avatars of. I don't know if it's ever been confirmed if Griselda was an explicit avatar of Giratina, but nonetheless, she was permanently transformed into one and can't change back. It's not unreasonable to see something similar happening to Indriad given that we don't know his final fate in the game's main timeline yet.
• Yes, this means there's some fucky shit going on with Angie, I have ideas about that as well but that also takes a ton of explanation and is best saved for a different post.

The other two though... I think more or less disprove the theory. Family-related trauma is already one of the game's biggest theme; if Nymiera had something related to her mother, it would have been made clear by this point. And there's just no way that I can think of to really justify the drastic difference in appearance between the two. I could simply handwave it and say "The differences in appearance are either a spriting error or a lighting thing with her helmet" and "We just haven't learned about Nymiera's mother yet", but both of those would just be copout answers to ignore.
I'm still confident that I'm onto something here and there is a connection between these two characters, but can't confidently say that I think I'm 100% correct.
...so instead I came up with a crackpot theory that nonetheless I think has a nonzero chance of being true, although its much less likely .
Madame X isn't an alternate universe Nymiera. She's an alternate universe Nim.
Is it a stupid assertion? Yes. But hear me out, starting with some of the more minor points:

• There is very obviously a connection between Nim and Nymiera. The game's placed a lot of emphasis on Nim's relationship to Alexandra and Damian, Nymiera's direct descendents, and Nim took her name from Nymiera's. When Nim appears in the flashback with Alexaandra and Damian she's calling out the names of Hazuki and the player character, yelling for them to watch out. This implies four things:
  • Nim originates in the past and was sent into the future.
  • Given that we haven't met her in the past, she probably comes into existence in the state that she already was.
  • Nim will meet the player and Hazuki in the past during some dangerous event, most likely a final battle with Indriad before Storm-9 fully hits, as we still don't know the final fate of the Defenders.
  • She doesn't say Anju and Nymiera's names, implying either something already happened to them or Nim was cut off in the middle of her sentence when she was sent forward in time.
• Despite Madame X claiming that Nymiera is dead, her spirit has appeared multiple times and is still very aware of the ongoing plot. Her body, however, has not.
• Clear going out of her way to manipulate Nim shows that Madame X likely has an interest in Nim herself.
• While she obviously prefers to use her psychic abilities, Nim's still clearly proficient with melee weapons as there's a handful of times where she uses her... hairpin things as a polearm of sorts.

There's three main reasons I think there actually is something here though: Nim's physical appearance, Madame X's "mother", and the reason Madame X needs her suit despite it making her weaker.
First: Nim's physical appearance is extremely similar to Madame X's under her mask. As Lorna, we can see that her pupils have a red hue very similar to Madame X's. Looking at both Nim's sprites and her official art, her skin tone is lighter than Nymiera's but still darker then most of the rest of the cast, which also lines up with the broken mask. Finally, assuming Madame X actually has black hair and that's not just a broken part of her mask in the sprite, Nim's hair is the same color.
Second: When Madame X mentions her "Mother", its quoted, presumably for air quotes. While it could just be her disrespecting her "Mother", it feels far more significant than that, like its moreso implying that whoever she's talking about wasn't her mother in the traditional sense. Madame X also states that the difference between her "Mother"'s sacrifice and the player's mom's sacrifice is that the player's mom's didn't matter; thus indirectly implying that Madame X's mom's sacrifice was important even if she looks down upon her mom for it. Assuming that Nymiera shares some connection to Nim- be it that Nymiera created her, Nim is her reincarnation, or something else- it's not unreasonable to think that Nim, after overcoming her memory issues, could view Nymiera as something of a mother figure, especially considering that Nim took her name Nymiera's because she felt a connection.
Third: The suit. There's a very obvious reason that Nim would need a suit to suppress her own power: to keep herself from draining the life force of her subordinates and stop her own Storm from getting out of control. It's a leap, sure, but it would explain why she needs a suit that actively inhibits her.
Why would Nim be doing all of this, and how would she become such a cruel and vengeful person? We see something similar happen to our own Nim through Clear's manipulation through preying on her fears and insecurities. Assuming bad enough shit happened to her, I could absolutely see an alternate universe Nim who lacked the support of characters like Aelita, Melia, and the Player going down this path.
Is this theory accurate? Probably not, but it was really fun to think about. I never fucking know what's gonna happen with this game which is why it's so fun to speculate about the absolute mess of lore that it has.
Thank you to anyone who took the time to read this massive ramble, it was fun to write and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day!

Administrator: "Intruder alert! A RED Spy is in the base!"
[Camera pans down to show a BLU Soldier reading the sign board.]
Soldier: "A RED Spy is in the base?"
[Soldier grabs his shotgun off a gun rack and runs down the stairs.]
Soldier: "Hut hut hut hut hut."
Administrator: "Protect the briefcase!"
Soldier: "We need to protect the briefcase!"
Scout: "Yo, a little help here?"
[Camera moves to BLU Scout pulling on a door handle. Soldier pushes him out of the way and enters numbers into the keypad.]
Soldier: "Alright, alright, I got it. Stand back son. One, one, one, uhh, one!"
Scout: "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"
[A BLU Heavy runs towards them and the door from behind.]
Heavy: "Incoming!"
[Heavy runs into the Scout and Soldier, breaking down the door with Sasha, his minigun. Heavy runs towards the briefcase, knocking Scout and Soldier over in the process. Scout crawls up from the floor, while Heavy lowers his gun.]
Scout: [Screams,]... "Hey, it's still here."
Heavy: [Yells,]... "Alright then."
[Camera pans to behind Heavy. There is a BLU Spy holding a BLU Sniper over his shoulder. The Sniper is dead.]
Spy: "Ahem, gentlemen."
["Meet the Spy" text appears.]
[Spy adjusts the corpse of Sniper and walks towards the briefcase.]
Spy: "I see the briefcase is safe."
Soldier: "Safe and sound!"
Scout: "Yeah, it is!"
[Scout and Soldier stand up.]
Spy: "Tell me, did anyone happen to kill a RED Spy on the way here?"
[Scout shrugs, Heavy and Soldier look at each other and then back to Spy.]
Spy: "No? Then we still have a problem."
[Spy tosses Sniper's corpse onto the desk, showing the Sniper still has a Spy's knife in his back. A sharp musical cue plays.]
Soldier: "And a knife!"
Scout: "Ooh, big problem. I kill plenty of Spies. They're dime-a-dozen back-stabbin' scumbags. Like you! Ow. No offense."
[Scout takes the butterfly knife out of Sniper's back, spinning it around before cutting his finger and dropping the knife. He puts the cut in his mouth.]
Spy: "If you manage to kill them, I assure you, they were not like me."
[Spy spins the knife much better than Scout, fancily closing it and handing it to Scout, who takes his cut out of his mouth.]
Spy: "And nothing, nothing, like the man loose inside this building."
Scout: "What are you? President of his fan club?"
[Soldier laughs behind Scout. Spy walks over to the windows next to the desk.]
Spy: "No.."
[Spy turns back to Scout.]
Spy: "That would be your mother!"
[Spy brings out a Manila folder. He slams it against the desk, and it has "TOP SECRET, SCOUT'S MOM" written on it. Multiple images of the RED Spy and BLU Scout's mother being intimate fly out of the folder and onto the desk. The camera shows us close ups of three of the images.]
Scout: [Stutters in shock.]
[Scout, Soldier and Heavy all look at the photos. Scout with confusion and anger, Soldier with interest and Heavy mostly uncaring, but a little shocked.]
Spy: "Indeed, and now he is here to [Censored] us! So listen up, boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing that happens to you today."
[Spy grabs a cigarette from his case, Scout looks like he is ready to attack Spy, Heavy and Soldier are trading the images of Scout's Ma.]
Soldier: "Oh!"
Scout: "G-gimme that!"
[Scout begins to collect the images, taking them from Heavy and Soldier. Spy takes a drag from his cigarette and looks out the window at a map of the world.]
Spy: "The Spy has already breached our defenses..."
[The camera changes to show the RED Spy running along a hallway. He hides behind a rock quickly, before tossing a Sapper at a BLU Sentry, destroying it, and shooting the Engineer.]
Engineer: "Sentry down!"
[The Engineer falls through a door, dead, and the RED Spy shoots something off camera.]
[Cut back to the three BLU's in the intel room.]
Spy: "You've seen what he's done to our colleagues!"
[The camera pans down to the deceased BLU Sniper before fading into this Sniper's fight with the RED Spy. The Spy raises his knife, ready to backstab, but the Sniper hears him and defends himself with his rifle. The Spy kicks him into a wall, where Sniper grabs his Kukri, attempting to attack the Spy. The Spy dodges, but gets a slash on the Snipers left cheek. Sniper goes in for the attack, but Spy gets the best of him, backstabbing the Sniper. His body falls through the wall onto the ground below. Fight sounds are heard throughout the scene.]
[Cut back to the three BLU's.]
Spy: "And worst of all, he could be any one of us."
[Cut to the RED Spy fighting a BLU Medic. Spy gets a hold on him and disguises himself as the Medic. The disguised Spy hits the Medic, causing his glasses to fly into the air, and for the real Medic to fall to the ground, assumed dead. The Spy grabs Medic's glasses mid-air and puts them on.]
[Cut back to the three BLU's.]
Spy: "He could be in this very room! He could be you. He could be me! He could even be-"
[Spy looks at the camera, but is cut off by his head being blown off. Soldier reloads his shotgun after shooting his teammate. Scout and Heavy look on in surprise. The images and the folder Scout was holding flies into the air.]
Scout: "Woah, woah, woah!"
Heavy: "Oh..."
Soldier: "What? It was obvious! He was the RED Spy! Watch, he'll turn red any second now."
[The camera shows Spy's foot, and Soldier nudges it with his shotgun.]
Soldier: "Aaaany second now..."
[The camera changes to show Heavy and Soldier, who are crouching next to the Spy's body. They do not notice when the BLU Scout changes his demeanor to be much more unaffected by the murder of his teammate. The Scout looks around the room, to make sure no one is watching.]
Soldier: "See! Red! No wait, that's blood..."
[The camera changes again, to be following the BLU Scout as he un-flicks the knife, slowly approaching the unsuspecting BLU's.]
Heavy: "So... We still got problem."
Soldier: "Big problem..."
[Scout approaches them, knife ready.]
Soldier: "Alright, who's ready to go find this Spy?"
[The Soldier and Heavy are unaware as the BLU Scout uncloaks and turns out to be the RED Spy. The Spy lifts his knife, prepared to backstab both of them.]
RED Spy: "Right behind you."
[Both Heavy and Soldier gasp and turn to see the Spy.]
[Team Fortress 2 ending flourish music plays. The sounds of the Soldier and Heavy being murdered can be heard during this.]
[French music plays as we zoom out on a pile of the images seen earlier. The RED Spy, holding the briefcase, moves some out of the way, and grabs a specific one of him and BLU Scout's Ma standing together holding hands. He picks this one up very carefully. He smiles at the sight of it.]
RED Spy: "Ah.. Ma petit chou-fleur."
[The Spy stands up, and walks away.]

Beginnings, I’m terrible at them. But you know what? What’s the beginning of a person? Parents. Hoarah Loux, founder and leader of the Crucible Knights. A true champion of the Crucible. Warrior King of the Golden Lineage. Husband of Marika, a less-than-true God risen from the Crucible. Marika, possessor of the Elden Ring, founder of the previous order, the Golden Order (current order is Golden Order Fundamentalism, not that this but is at all relevant to the point and thus can be entirely ignored, it’s the next paragraph that actually begins the stuff.. I guess). A trickster god, veil wielder, bestower of blessings.
Three children are known to have been born from the joining of these two great beings. One, Godwyn, lay half dead beneath the Lands Between. Another, Mohg, guards a giant, withered, living but lifeless body beneath the Lands Between. Third, Morgot, bears the frightful visage of the omen as he raises phantom and barrier to hide the greatest secret of the Lands Between.
It is this third child, Morgott, twin of Mohg, who hides the greatest secret of the Lands Between. Once, Morgott was to be called the Veiled Monarch but this, it seems, was a little too obvious. Grace-Given then. He was said to be born an omen along with his twin, Mohg. He pulled from himself his cursed omen blood and made it into a sword. His devotion to the Erdtree was supposedly never rewarded and yet he stands as King of Leyndell, de factor head of the Golden Order, and was seemingly given grace.
He creates a phantom of himself to guard the decrepit Godrick under the name Margit, deploys the Nights Cavalry, controls and corrupts a commoner to spook us away from the Capitol, raises a phantom of Godfrey, raises a phantom of Mohg, raises a barrier to prevent passage to Deeproot Depths, raises a barrier to prevent passage to the Mountaintops of the Giants.
Then we kick Morgott’s actual butt and his life’s work comes to an end. The truth is freed from obscurity. The first truth, Morgott is not an omen. His body shows no sign of horns, it is just withered and decayed, aged beyond the limits of natural life. How could this be? The omen image was either an illusion or the curse just ended when he died. I’ll cancel out the second one first, we don’t see this with other omen and while he could be a special case, I don’t think this is what happened.
So, his omen appearance was an illusion. But when was the illusion made? Perhaps, when Morgott’s purged his omen blood he was freed from the curse, this could also be when he was made Grace-Given. Then, to show a lack of resentment, he donned a mimic-veil or other similar Marika related magic to honor his cursed origin. But no traces of horns or tail… so maybe curse cures completely undo everything? Or maybe the horns and tail were never grown, because he was not an omen. He was veiled at birth or in early youth.
For the sake of clarity, I suggest one possible series of answers.
Who would do this and who knew/knows?
Obviously, Marika and Godfrey were both behind the deception, that’s how Godfrey recognizes that corpse as Morgott and another thing that makes Marika mischievous. Morgott also knows and is a willing participant in the deception. Mohg, Radagon. Potentially Godwyn, Ranni, Miquella. More depending on conspiracy connections.
Is Mohg also not an omen?
I do not know if this deception has implications for Mohg, I suspect so.
Why would Morgott be chained in the sewer even though he wasn’t really an omen?
Maybe, he wasn’t.
Ok, Morgott is not an omen. So what?
Morgott was given a truly important duty, he was to prevent the powers that be from finding out what Marika was truly doing, specifically, what was being done underground and with the roots of the Greattree/Erdtree.
The culture through which Marika and Godfrey acquired power was a crucible celebrating culture, omen were blessed to them or so we are led to believe. They were never saints, they just happened to be on the losing side of a war. Marika foresaw the destruction of her people and instead of direct opposition, she infiltrated her enemy.
We know she seems dedicated to whatever she is ultimately after, no act is off the table and no truth is above being lied about. Omen would be demonized under the Golden Order, those who would serve as guards to the big secret would guard Marika’s access route to her allies, the sewers beneath Leyndell. Sadly, not every citizen serves the clandestine plan with full knowledge of how they serve.
The Omen Twins were unknown for most of history, it seems, as far as their lineage. Morgott, in passage between surface and subsurface, would don the guise of an omen. He was always concealed from the public when in Leyndell, even his name and royal status. Sort of works into how he knew how to make those Sentry Torches and why he was almost called the Veiled Monarch.
I have no current explanation for the shackles. Real tokens bound to a false narrative people developed based on bits of the truth coming to light through the ages.
Anyways, so what is going on underground? Something is being done with the Greattree/Erdtree roots. I posit that the Greattree is like a quacking aspen, one tree with a massive root network from which multiple stalks grow and appear to be a forest but is really just one tree. The Erdtree is one stalk of the Greattree. The other stalks were destroyed one way or another. Minor Erdtrees grow from the same roots structure.
Erdtree Seeds, as we find them, sprout phantom trees. They launched from the Erdtree when Marika shattered the Elden Ring. We use them to enhance our grace juice in magic jars. The seeds were thought not to exist because they don’t, well, they are not seeds. They are grace broken off of the Elden Ring and packaged for our collection and use.
So what’s going on with the roots? Compare the surface and subsurface maps and you see the root structures that seem to fit the Erdtree and Minor Erdtrees are a little off. This misalignment is intended. Recall, the Erdtree is no longer connected to the roots of the Greattree. I suggest this was in response to the half-dead Godwyn being buried in the Erdtree/Greattree roots and infecting them with deathblight. To slow the spread of deathblight, the tree(s) was(were) cut from the roots. Perhaps a literal shifting of the land or a cut and replant type situation. This could partially play into the tilt of the Erdtree.
What leads me to this thought? The roots holding the Death-Prince are too small to be the Erdtree’s main root stalk but not that of a Minor Erdtree. And wouldn’t you know it, that half-dead Minor Erdtree with the deathblight wielding omen and his bodies is just about right over the Death-Prince root.
So when Godwyn’s soul was slain and his living body was placed in the roots, this Minor Erdtree was already growing from them. More, his living body was grafted into the roots. So now, is Morgott’s Margit the Fell phantom just guarding that pathetic Godrick? No. He’s observing and/or guarding grafting and it’s connection to the Greattree Roots and Godwyn. Measuring the reach of the deathblight maybe. I’m not entirely certain on the details, just the basic point, it’s his job.
Maybe something to do with runes and eyes and why the relic beneath Stormveil has no eyes. Runes are soul magic, deathblight is dead soul magic, remove the eyes, remove the soul/dead soul.
Back to the Death-Prince and why was he grafted to the roots? To honor him? To kill the whole system of rune harvesting for the Elden Beast? To preserve and/or revive Godwyn? Something like Miquella and the Haligtree?
(Something related but not specifically part of this: The Mending Rune of the Death-Prince is literally the Death-Prince and Fia’s souls ((in part)) bound into a Great Rune. One way to make Great Runes is the entire point of Deathbed Companions. Great Runes can literally be entities… like the Elden Beast… the Deathbed Companions are not necessarily the only way to make Great Runes, the Forge of the Giants and some kind of great sacrifice like the burning of massive grace filled tree stalks and ice dragons could be another way…)
Speaking of Miquella, the prevalent belief is that Miquella and Godwyn were great buds or whatever, right? Mohg is depicted carrying Miquella and a giant cocoon in the opening. Clearly, that cocoon is too big for that little body. We also see a possible double womb in the Haligtree. Perhaps, Mohg took Miquella and a second, unready, body. This second, much larger body, was certainly important to Miquella but maybe not for his own occupation.
So who’s the big, withered, husk in the cocoon? Well, it’s an upscaled Morgott model. Maybe, just maybe, that is actually Godwyn. Mohg, in service to Miquella and/or the Formless Mother and/or Marika, is guarding his half dead brother. Keeping the body alive and hidden in these final stages of whatever is going on.
Speaking of the Formless Mother, Marika seems a holy shell. Perhaps this exterior is a puppet or doll. Marika is free of flesh and form, at least, we have not seen her true self. All sorts of things will come out if I don’t stop.
So why block the way to the Mountaintops of the Giants? Well, it’s the way to the Forge, also the way to a Divine Tower, and Miquella’s Haligtree.
I haven’t completely figured it all out but it is another small part of my overall grand theory.