So.. the people on this story are 24m and bf 32 m I had been with this guy for 11 months now and the way this all goes is I moved across the us to move with him he is in the service. That’s why and we moved closer to be with his family and kids I also have been involved and wanted to stay together regardless with the whole factor of having to leave my hometown I love him and willing to go to the moon for him and Vic versa . .. so I think ?! When it comes to the story of finding his Grindr account it was only a matter of time before I saw it or whatever … I had left to go to my sisters weeding out of state … and I had left for maybe three days max .. mind u I was staying loyal along my journey there and home . But load and behold he wasn’t .. but that’s not the only thing I didn’t find out until he had took a trip to his kids tournament in a state that’s very close to us.. meaning it was only 4 hours away or so .. welll flash forward his coming home and I go to call him and his very huffing and whatever on the phone and not like himself at the rest stop saying he has to pee and just stopped but knowing that his location was on just made me realize he didn’t even call me to say he was there … sus already heard him acting weird so it sent gossebumps down my spine I’ve been cheated on before with the whole Grindr situation. But I have healed a lot of the hurt which wasn’t easy but that’s why I was ready to settle down . But I go with my gut and download it just to make sure keep in mind his usually very chatty person even if had to pee he wouldn’t just shut me down .. now however I click on his exact location and boom ! There it is his profile pic is him asking for and crusing spots … my heart shattered when it saw that I did it to myself but at same time I didn’t know what to expect… and i just think now his on a blank profile now I just don’t know what to think I came to him and told him when he got home and he acted so happy to see me and I just wanted to know if he was gunna act out this whole display of I love yous and miss u when he was at rest stop asking for a crusing spot … mind u guys his hiv + not from me but from his ex that cheated on him while he was deployed please give me something we have talked sense then but idk what to think about it any ideas

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
Deep in the groaning halls of sinew and bone he awaited his audience with the god. At a wave of his hand the ribs which held up the ceiling contracted, tendons shifting within the pink walls of the chamber as the jagged, calcareous spurs that composed the doorway sank back into the spongy masses of tissue, revealing a passage curving down and out of sight.
Menash stood before the yawning portal and considered eternity. This was no an idle thought: here in the Dawning Chamber, the concept was very real. His father, Yulan, had stood in this exact spot times beyond count. When he was struck down in his prime by the Night Weaver and her Leaper offspring, torn limb from limb as he fought to defend Chthonis from a raiding party, Menash’s uncle, Aqavarr, had carried his broken remains over that grinning threshold to join the hosts of the dead, never to return.
A hot and heavy exhalation rattled up out of the depths, wafting in the acrid scent of the bonding pools and the wet slithering sound of the rebirthing canals. Menash felt a crackle of static in the corners of his mind before the signal sharpened and he heard It whisper distinctly:
“Enter…”
The familiar dread crept its way up the small of his back, and he gave a little shiver. No matter how many times he had communed with the Vitalus, he’d never been able to shake the feeling of his utter insignificance. But he persevered, walking bravely down the slurping passage, past the rows of broad antechambers lining either side of the hallway. Each one held a slumbering shape immersed in a cryogenic bath, towering hulks of muscle encased in ribbed and riveted plates of chitin. No two were alike in size or physiology, but all seemed to emanate the same primeval aura of dread that tickled Menash’s fight-or-flight-instinct, skewing it very much towards the latter response. These were the Hollowores, soulless avatars of the Vitalus, each one a tool capable of eradicating an entire species. As Menash approached, one of the living weapons stirred to life. A pronged, anvil-shaped head emerged from the bath, umbilical feeder tubes detaching from its armored flanks as the rest of its bulk followed, its mauve exoskeleton as sleek and shiny as amethyst. The Hollowore extended legs as thick as grown pine trees and lifted itself above him, its pairs of crushing pincers dripping amniotic fluids as it herded him towards the central room.
Bundles of white gossamer filaments spread all across the floor, encircling steaming pools of pus and acid. He saw arms and legs, sensory organs and entire exoskeletons being knitted before his very eyes, the amino acid chains being stitched on a layer at a time, the weeping pus evidence of microphages fighting off possible infections as the Vitalus did Its work.
These were the next generation of exomorphs, yet to be assigned to their hosts. It was here that Vitalus constantly improved the only thing that could ensure the continued survival of Menash’s subspecies. Exomorphs were bonded to Gallivants at birth, the organisms supplying their hosts with the means to breathe an atmosphere they was never meant to endure, and the strength to fight in a world that was red in tooth and claw. They were as swift as the summer wind and could multiply their host’s muscular power by up to twelve times their natural output.
But for all their God-given might, Gallivants were still mortal. They could and often did perish in the endless struggle for existence that the Vitalus called the Great Game. But even in death they could still commit their essence to posterity, passing down their defining traits through the malleable genetic code of the gilt helix. It was the Vitalus’ greatest boon; through the gilt helix a single individual could become a progenitor of an entire generation, becoming at one stroke the father of whole nations and peoples.
One day he too would prove worthy of the honor that Yulan had earned with his life. But he was not alone in that ambition. Menash was annoyed to find the crimson-clad Vezda and the cowardly Racek waiting for him inside, standing next to a large ball of filaments that hung from a tonsil-like growth hanging from the walls.
This node pulsed, emitting a small storm of bioelectric activity, networks of fungi conveying commands in the form of oscillating voltages to their communities of symbiotic bacteria, the latter containing greigite mineral crystals aligned in the shape of electromagnetic coils. Other networks hidden in the walls modulated and amplified the signals, and the three Gallivants steeled themselves for the onrushing flood of information as the Vitalus tapped into their minds.
He was a candle before the raging heart of the thunderstorm. For an instant Menash touched a fraction of Its intelligence, the divisions of time and space rolling back as they joined the ocean of shared consciousness, becoming one with the living systems of Arachnea. From the tiniest aeroplankton floating above the waves of the golden coastlines, to the herds of ultrapods munching their way through swathes of trees in the savannahs. Menash felt himself pushing up out of the soil, longing and lusting and reaching for the sunlight with a trillion green fingers uncurling, alive with the furious movement of life.
But what was that flicker of orange to the east? That searing heat, that prickling pain spreading like a cancer down his side?
The Vitalus scooped them up and hurled them headlong into hell itself. A roaring wildfire was sweeping into the heart of the eastern rainforests. Menash tasted ash and ruin, felt pieces of himself wither and burn, his branches tongues of fire, wood cracking from the intense blaze, sap boiling instantaneously upon contact and rupturing, splitting him right down the grain. He fled in terror, running, slithering, digging, swimming, flying away in crazed panic from the walls of red death closing in on him. As his skin flaked off in clumps of charcoal he looked back and saw it towering over the treetops, the epicenter of this howling vortex of destruction: the grey behemoth. Its burnished metal hide gleamed like copper, reflecting the fury of the conflagration burning well into the night.
Menash pulled his mind away before it was lost forever in the storm of electric potentials. He saw Racek and Vezda swaying on their feet, breathing hard and fast.
“Heart of the World,” he managed to gasp, “What is your bidding?”
The Hollowore maneuvered itself until it was facing him directly. Tiny beady eyes fixed him in their blank gaze. The node emitted a blue pulse and the creature shuddered as it received the signal. It opened a maw powerful enough to chew boulders into gravel and rumbled:
“This one is the alpha which survived first contact with anomalous variable. It will tell Us what occurred, and from whence this threat emerged.”
“It came from the karst mountain range, where the yellowjacket Amit live,” Menash replied, “It was destroying the largest mound in that area, massacring its inhabitants. It brought the mountain down on them—we’ve never seen anything like it. Zildiz was the first on the scene. She warned us not to approach, and that it was dangerous, but some of us,” here he cast an angry look at Vezda, “Some of us went ahead and tried to scavenge from the bodies of the dying. Then the behemoth ignited the air and burned scores of us to cinders.”
“Irrational. Why did you do this?”
“W-we thought that you had spawned the grey behemoth,” Menash stammered, embarrassed to say the least, “That it was the newest addition to the Great Game, another species of ultrafauna that would help perfect Arachnea.”
“Not so. It was made by an evil far older than the All-In-One,” replied the Vitalus, “It is called a Divine Engine. In cycles past, this evil sought to undo this world and all that inhabit it. In that, it almost succeeded.”
Menash felt his blood run cold at those words.
“Is it the only one of its kind?” Racek piped up. Menash and Vezda both bristled at his interruption; subordinates were only supposed to speak when spoken to.
“There were several deployed here in Our infancy. We had thought them all destroyed in the War of Creation.”
“Your Munificence,” Racek went on, heedless of the venomous looks he was getting from the other two, “Most of us survived because Zildiz persuaded us to dive into the river. She saved all our lives! But as I washed up on the riverbank, I saw the behemoth casting a seedpod into the skies. I did not see where it landed, but it was travelling in a high arc due east. Is this the behemoth’s method of reproducing? If so, then how many offspring can it generate from this one seed?”
The Vitalus met his questions with a minute of silence. Menash had never known It to take so long to respond to a query, and felt another stab of unease in his gut. Unless he was imagining things, the Vitalus seemed genuinely disturbed by the scenario that Racek has raised, enough to convince Menash that the danger was far from hypothetical.
“That is a distant possibility,” It said somewhat cryptically, “Regardless, We cannot allow the Engine’s continued existence.”
“Then it must be destroyed,” Vezda said, her barbed tail eagerly perking up.
“We are not certain that it can be,” the Vitalus said, and Menash heard Racek audibly gulp at the admission.
“But Your Omniscience, you alone are the arbiter of growth and decay,” Vezda said in disbelief, “Surely you can unmake this monster as well?”
“Perhaps. The Divine Engines were built to withstand the extremes of temperature, gravity, atmospheric pressure, acidity and irradiation found on semi-inhabitable exoplanets. Worlds of bareness and desolation, glassed by thermonuclear bombardment or infested with alien microorganisms. In the wars of Our youth, the Betrayers used tungsten-alloy warheads fired from space platforms to crack their bulkheads. Not even Our vessels, the Hollowores, could damage them in any significant way. We will need time to gather the raw materials and fabricate the weapons needed to end this threat.”
“What must we do?” Menash asked.
“If this variable is not dealt with, it could upset the delicate balance We have sacrificed so much to achieve. Already the wildfire it has caused will release close to 400 million metric tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere and destroy 2.3 million acres of forest before Our countermeasures can stop it. Time is our limiting factor. If the Engine cannot be destroyed now, it must be restrained.”
“It hasn’t moved an inch since we last saw it,” Vezda said brightly, “Maybe it has already died?”
“Yes, and maybe your mother was a horka toad,” Racek said snidely. Vezda scowled and took a step towards him, then stopped as she remembered that she trod on hallowed ground.
“Not so. It has merely gone dormant. Having expended its fuel, it is now running on the bare minimum of its reserves. My children, you must ensure that it does not wake again. Establish a quarantine zone around the Engine and let none approach, on pain of death. The Leaper kindreds will secure the ground while the Gallivants patrol the skies.”
Vezda and Menash exchanged troubled looks. Nobody wanted Leapers establishing a foothold in what was essentially a buffer zone between their subspecies. Once allowed to settle in a habitat, it would not take long for them to adapt and become masters of their new territory. Ousting them would become a battle of attrition, and given the lower birthrates of Gallivants, it was not one they could long afford.
“Respectfully, we do not require assistance from our brother kindred,” Menash ventured, “We are more than capable of safeguarding the area ourselves.”
The node throbbed again, the bioelectric flashes taking on an angry purple hue. With a sound like the grinding of a millstone the Hollowore clashed its claws together impatiently. All three of the mortals took a hasty step back.
“The alpha will obey, or another will be found that can,” the Vitalus growled at them, “All subspecies will observe a general truce during this period. This is a temporary addition to the Great Game. Those that serve Us well shall be rewarded. We shall also enlist the aid of your terrestrial cousins, as well as the Cataphract clans to replenish the soil, and lone Saints who shall rove beyond the quarantine zone.”
Menash’s unease deepened. The Vitalus was bringing together four different kindreds, some of which killed each other on sight, in a move that reeked of desperation. The kindreds had worked together before, of course, on complex projects such as altering rainfall patterns and husbanding struggling species, but never so many at once. This was bound to end in bloodshed.
“Those that break the truce shall be chemically neutered, and their gilt helix purged from the existing gene pool,” the Vitalus continued, “You will maintain this quarantine until We have dealt with the Engine.”
“It is understood!” Menash and Vezda said at once.
“But what about Zildiz?” Racek blurted out, again risking his entire lineage by speaking out of turn, “She might still be alive out there!”
“He’s right,” Menash found himself agreeing despite his dislike for Racek, “She’s our alpha, after all. It would be a shame to lose her helix. Do we have your leave to send out a party to recover her?”
The Vitalus pondered the request for a moment, then crushed his hopes when it said:
“Regrettable, the loss of the female. Valuable stock for the breeding program. But it has not responded to Our signals—it is unlikely to have survived. The female Vezda shall take up its duties as alpha.”
“But Your Benevolence—” both men cried out in unison.
“It is decided. She has risked the Great Game, and must abide by its outcome. To speak more on this would risk Our displeasure,” the god warned.
“We can’t spare the manpower anyway,” Vezda pointed out, trying not to look too pleased at Its decision. She darted a quick look at Menash, long enough for him to see the selfish desire festering in her heart. He turned away from her in disgust, baring his blades by the slightest of margins to let her know what he thought of her, then asked the Vitalus:
“But what of the Engine’s seedpod? Should we search for it?”
“Negative!” the Vitalus boomed, its node reinforcing the word with a spike of activity that sent needles of pain spearing into their heads, “We shall complete this task. It is dangerous and can be entrusted to no other.”
The Hollowore angled its massive head towards the cavernous ceiling, armored flaps on its back sliding aside as it unfurled sets of rigid sixty-meter wings. A wide sphincter on the roof gaped open and Menash saw the evening sky awash with the stars in their milky multitudes. The Hollowore took a deep breath through the spiracles lining its thorax and abdomen, pumping air through a pair of hollow tube-like protuberances under either of its wings. Menash and the others quickly scampered to a safe distance. Seconds later there was a scream of chemical combustion and the Hollowore rose into the evening skies, leaving behind a long trail of superheated gases, the backwash almost knocking Menash off his feet. They watched as the Hollowore gained altitude, making straight for the columns of billowing smoke on the horizon, a sweeping shadow blotting out the light of the heavens.
The Vitalus’ mental presence receded with it. When it did not return, they took it to mean that they were dismissed and likewise took flight and headed for Chthonis. They were hardly out of the Dawning Chamber when Vezda seized the scrawny Racek by his wings and anchored her feet right up against his back.
“Funny little man, are you? Crack jokes at my expense again, and I’ll see to it that you’ll never fly again!” she snarled, yanking hard. Racek yelled as his wings threatened to pop out of their sockets.
“Stop!” Menash said, ramming his shoulder into her and knocking the smaller male out of her grip. Vezda rounded on him, blades out and her tail aquiver with rage.
“As for you! No one should speak to the Vitalus like that!” she shrieked, “Much less gainsay It! Are you trying to get us all killed? It is the source and continuance of life itself—”
“But the Vitalus doesn’t always consider the individual scale of things,” Menash reasoned, controlling his rising anger as he tried to defuse the situation, “Its scope of thought is beyond ours. Therefore it is up to us to look after each other. None of us can win the Great Game alone. We need people like Zildiz for the species to prosper.”
“Your logic is flawed,” Vezda spat, “Empathy is a sham devised by the selfish action of the gene, which seeks only to preserve itself. At least I am honest enough to look after my own interests. Your obsession with that whore is misplaced. Heed my words, Menash. What happened today marks a change in the Great Game. Only the ruthless will reap the rewards of this era. Think on that, and act accordingly.”
The female darted off in another direction, leaving the two behind.
“Thanks,” Racek said, rubbing at his sore shoulders, “My, my. She’s really taking her promotion very seriously, isn’t she?”
“This doesn’t make us friends,” Menash said shortly, “We share a common interest, that’s all.”
The two flew together in silence for a time, the dark canopy unrolling below their feet. Racek had always been a bitter rival for Zildiz’s affections. In the mating seasons he and Menash had flown the damsel-dance against each other countless times, racing and dogfighting at top speed through the dense bamboo thickets in an effort to impress her.
But each time she had always chosen Menash. Naturally. He was the stronger, the braver, the son of the Scourge who had slain hundreds on his lightning raids into Leaper territory. Their pairings had been brief and passionate, yet she had always laughed at the end and gone on her merry way, a rose petal borne on a scented breeze, the dalliance as meaningless to her as other concerns like eating or breathing.
But not to him. Right now, all that mattered was her. And Racek was the only one in the whole wide world who knew exactly how he felt. Did that mean he could be trusted? Menash considered the enormity of what he was about to do, and wavered. Then he saw her face in the darkness of his home, the face she wore when they were all alone together, and he took a deep breath before breaking the silence, saying:
“I’ll be in charge of the quarantine. I can arrange for you to disappear for a few days. I can have one of the younglings mimic your magnetosynaptic signal, make it seem like you’re with the rest of us.”
“You’d do that? For me?” Racek said in astonishment.
“Hah. Not for you,” Menash laughed softly. He looked Racek straight in the eyes and continued: “What’ll it be, then?”
If he so much as hesitates, I’ll have to kill him here and now, Menash told himself.
“Why, yes. Yes, of course!” the little brown male said vigorously.
“Good,” Menash sighed with relief, “She’ll be very grateful to whoever brings her home. I’d do it myself, but as an alpha I can’t risk being seen as disobedient.”
“Then why give me this chance? After all that’s passed between us?”
“I should have thought that was obvious,” Menash replied. Racek digested that for a bit, then out of nowhere said:
“If I find her—when I find her—I’ll tell her exactly who it was that sent me.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Bah! Just so we’re even, that’s all,” Racek grinned, his mouthparts slanting askew.
“Thanks, I guess. I’d…I’d appreciate that. You do understand what we’re risking here, right?”
“Sure. We’ll be total genetic write-offs if we’re caught. But it’s not like I wanted to see tiny ugly Raceks running around the house anyway. What about you, though? Why are you putting your neck on the chopping block?”
“You know why,” Menash said quietly, his thoughts still lingering on her face.
“Yes,” Racek agreed with a wistful air, “Yes, I suppose I do.”
And the pair spoke no more until they reached Chthonis.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

I’m pretty devastated. I got an email about a job interview at my all time favorite brand. It’s an extremely high end luxury fashion brand, you can only get in the store through appointment type situation. I stayed up all night the past 3 nights studying every aspect, every possible question they might ask, every. single. product. I felt in my entire soul and being that I would get the job and I was so confident.
Well I just had the interview; it lasted probably 10 minutes tops. I was so disgustingly nervous. She did not ask me any questions about the brand - just why I wanted to work there and how I heard about the job listing. and then silly questions like my star sign, my biggest pet peeves, etc. The first couple minutes I was visibly nervous and blanking and repeating answers. She was giggling a lot so I think she knew I was really nervous.
At the end she asked about my availability and what I’m looking to get paid. So I’m hoping that’s a good sign. She said she would keep in touch and reach out in a week or so if I moved onto the next round. I feel like I bombed it. My heart is absolutely shattered. Have any of you had a terrible interview but still got it?

T/W: Mentions of Suicide and Schizophrenia.
It was the year of 2022, my personal life and family issues have gotten worse, for my mother who suffers from schizophrenia and depression went back to my grandmother's place because she couldn't handle the stress that comes with taking care of a household just a month before my 12th boards were going to start.
My heart ached for her but I knew with my exans a month away and other responsibilities of the household falling back on my shoulders, I was incapable of takinh care of her mentally.
I still casually chuckle at the thought of how I skipped my history pre-boards because she was feeling sick and suicidal and had done things before when I was younger so my heart did not dare leave her alone. My little sister who was only 10 at that time was genuinely scared and worried, would cry non stop. She said "Didi, is it because of me that mumma is going to die? Am I really that bad?" My heart broke that day.
Skip to 2 months later, the results came and the best of four marks was decent but not good enough to get me a college solely on merit. But I was fine, my aim was to prepare for CLAT anyway and so I did. Took a risk, conviced my father for a drop year and prepared diligently for 3 months straight but luck was not by my side, and my health started deteriorating- stomach issues, weak immue system, anaemia, fatal cramps from periods. Every month I felt like I was on a war against myself and hence, my motivation to study collapsed.
After my results my mother was back at our place because she couldn't live with her parents anymore, she missed us and was stubborn at how she was better and would like to be back and be a mother to both of her children. And she arrived, with full enthusiasm but alas, that didn't last long and she left again . I can't blame her honestly, we live in a place where the mental institutions are pathetic and not one relative nearby who could help us. And where was my father in the whole scene? He has been posted to a different state, kilometres away from us. Visiting only once a month, it was tough handing all the responsibilities of home along with my sister.
I am grateful for my father earns well, we had a cook and a helper to do all the chores but it was still tough. I would study hours and hours, help my sister with her academics, making her lunch, dropping her to the busy, grocery shopping, going to the coaching on weekends. It took a mental toll on me.
So the dreaded moment finally came in last December, tons of mocks, revisions and practice I went to the exam centre and sat for it. Mentally convicing myself that it will be okay, no need to nervous and it would just be fine. But I don't think my thoughts really went into my head because my mind went blank the moment I read the question paper and the exam anxiety kicked in. And god, it kicked in so hard I regret to this date.
After the exam, I cried and cried and cried. I was devastated, I did my best sure but the fact I could have done better only if I was capable enough to handle my anxiety ate me alive. I still remember the look on my father's face when the results came in a week later, it was as if he didn't even expect me to do well but was still disappointed that I didn't prove him wrong.
It took me two months almost to get out from that zone of self doubt, embarassment and low motivation. I decided everything is fine, life can give me another chance right? A person as passionate as me about law obviously deserves a chance to get into my dream college and be a successful person. But man, I was wrong.
Yesterday, I gave CUET conducted by the most esteemed agency which considers how important the future of it's aspirants are /s. And to say less, it went pathetic too lmao. My english is genuinely a strength of mine so I did well in that but an hour later, when I sat for General Test with time duration of one hour, I failed to attempt even half the number of questions I was required to. It wasn't as if I didn't study enough, did not do enough mocks or got extremely nervous. Infact, it was the complete opposite this time.
Yet, luck wasn't with me this particular juncture as well. NTA, infamous for it's paper leaks, disastrous management and cancelling exams did what it is good at. I was unfortunate that my invigilators had the least amount of respect for the students. Giving the paper 5 minutes late, not knowing the instructions properly, tons of signatures in between (which I actually do not mind) and shouting in the middle of examination at a boy who sat on another desk which wasn't his designated one. In hand we had 45 minutes, which I made full use of still, it wasn't sufficient.
Came home dejected, tired with centres being 30-40 kms away, I made the mistake of counting my marks and oh lord, I haven't stopped having anxiety attacks since then. I always knew there was no use of having so much of expectations from this exam but god it hurts, it aches and it is killing me. I worked day and night for the 2 and half a months setting everything aside. Every fear, each regret and now I am at loss because of something which isn't even my fault.
They say cut off will go low, but honestly how low can it go? I am at such position where even if I ace two subjects out of three, the one I failed was the deciding factor and without it, my name will be on no college list.
Maybe it's my fault, maybe I don't work hard enough, maybe my mind is messed up or maybe, I am just a lazy person who deserves no college seat because let's be real, if I was really worthy of it, I'd have it already. This is not a blame myself or my circumstances post, I just wanted to share the emotions I have been trying to suppress for the past year. Parent's don't really get it and think I am just another average Joe. Also, nobody around me is empathetic enough to hold my hand and console me. ( Expecting it seems wrong now too )
I said my life is over because I am genuinely scarred now, and yes it has only been two exams, I deserve to move on and I'll understand the later. But two consecutive failures where I genuinely worked hard, though wasn't enough, makes me think maybe I am not meant for this. As an elder daughter someday the responsibility of the household will fall on my shoulders, but if I can't even get a college to complete my education how will I do a job and earn money?
We don't have enough money to join a private college and all the entrance exams seems too tough for my dumb mind now. Thankyou if you read till the end.

I was reading some texts by Foyan when he mentioned Seng-ts'an and his writings. I decided to share and comment on the whole poem which is called Hsin Hsin Ming. The poem is huge, so buckle up!
On having no preferences.

The Perfect Way is only difficult for those who pick and choose; Do not like, do not dislike; all will then be clear. Make a hairbreadth difference, and Heaven and Earth are set apart; If you want the truth to stand clear before you, never be for or against. The struggle between "for" and "against" is the mind's worst disease; While the deep meaning is misunderstood, it is useless to meditate on Rest. It [the Buddha-nature] is blank and featureless as space; it has no "too little" or "too much;" Only because we take and reject does it seem to us not to be so.

If you support and objectify something outside yourself, that is already a preference. And then you will reject any view that denies your view of truth. However if you do not have such an object to look towards, what will you do? What would it look like not to fight against another view?
On taking things as they are.

Do not chase after Entanglements as though they were real things, Do not try to drive pain away by pretending that it is not real; Pain, if you seek serenity in Oneness, will vanish of its own accord. Stop all movement in order to get rest, and rest will itself be restless; Linger over either extreme, and Oneness is for ever lost. Those who cannot attain to Oneness in either case will fail: To banish Reality is to sink deeper into the Real; Allegiance to the Void implies denial of its voidness.

There is no use to clean your glasses with your own fingers, it will only smudge them more. By trying to fabricate states or change your current state hoping to have a nicer experience, you will only get further estranged from yourself. By reacting to emotions, you will create even more emotions. Why force rest or peace? Why prefer something more real? How can something other than this experience be more real?
On intellectualization.

The more you talk about It, the more you think about It, the further from It you go; Stop talking, stop thinking, and there is nothing you will not understand. Return to the Root and you will find the Meaning; Pursue the Light, and you will lose its source, Look inward, and in a flash you will conquer the Apparent and the Void. For the whirligigs of Apparent and Void all come from mistaken views;

This reminds of the monk who got to go on a walk with his master and they watched the sunset together. At one point the monk could not help himself and said "How beautiful!". His master never allowed him to go on a walk with him. Of course, this is an extreme case, but by expressing / looking for the beauty in words, it is no longer the same beauty. It is, as if, examined by one and no longer of-itself.
On duality of "Is" and "Isn't".

There is no need to seek Truth; only stop having views. Do not accept either position [Assertion and Negation], examine it or pursue it; At the least thought of "Is" and "Isn't" there is chaos and the Mind is lost. Though the two exist because of the One, do not cling to the One; Only when no thought arises are the Dharmas without blame. No blame, no Dharmas; no arising, not thought.

From the One Mind are born "this" or "that". It can flower in any direction, but don't consider it your own and see it as an arbitrary view.
On me and you.

The doer vanishes along with the deed, The deed disappears when the doer is annihilated. The deed has no function apart from the doer; The doer has no function apart from the deed. The ultimate Truth about both Extremes is that they are One Void. In that One Void the two are not distinguished; Each contains complete within itself the Ten Thousand Forms.

One void, not two, not me, not you. So tell me, who knows more than others? Who has views that others don't see? Who argues with another?
On having no fixed path.

Only if we boggle over fine and coarse are we tempted to take sides. In its essence the Great Way is all embracing; It is as wrong to call it easy as to call it hard. Partial views are irresolute and insecure, Now at a gallop, now lagging in the rear. Clinging to this or to that beyond measure The heart trusts to bypaths that lead it astray. Let things take their own course; know that the Essence will neither go nor stay; Let your nature blend with the Way and wander in it free from care.

Only a fool would try to put a nail in the sky. What is subtle and what is surface understanding? There is a point where they no longer mean anything separately. What then? When things are seen for what they are, as appearances in the One Mind, all boundaries begin to crumble. In nature some branches grow short, some long, all is the body of Buddha.
On splitting the hair in half.

Thoughts that are fettered turn from Truth, Sink into the unwise habit of "not liking." "Not liking" brings weariness of spirit; estrangements serve no purpose. If you want to follow the doctrine of the One, do not rage against the World of the Senses. Only by accepting the World of the Senses can you share in the True Perception. Those who know most, do least; folly ties its own bonds. In the Dharma there are no separate dharmas, only the foolish cleave To their own preferences and attachments.

Don't sit in your meditation or emptiness and reject everything. Don't sit with your Zen texts and reject what is not in your Zen texts. There is One Dharma and it manifests as all. Estrange yourself from your perceptions and senses and you will estrange yourself from the One Dharma.
On no differentiation.

To use Thought to devise thoughts, what more misguided than this? Ignorance creates Rest and Unrest; Wisdom neither loves nor hates. All that belongs to the Two Extremes is inference falsely drawn- A dream-phantom, a flower in the air. Why strive to grasp it in the hand? "Is" and "Isn't," gain and loss banish once for all: If the eyes do not close in sleep there can be no evil dreams; If the mind makes no distinctions all Dharmas become one.

I see this as river, it does not look for the best course, it just flows into the best course. It does not blame rocks for being in the way, it just goes over them. What do you blame? What is it that you want to accomplish and what is it that stands in your way?
On the end of complication.

Let the One with its mystery blot out all memory of complications. Let the thought of the Dharmas as All-One bring you to the So-in-itself. Thus their origin is forgotten and nothing is left to make us pit one against the other. Regard motion as though it were stationary, and what becomes of motion? Treat the stationary as though it moved, and that disposes of the stationary. Both these having thus been disposed of, what becomes of the One?

When you wake up from a dream in the morning, it instantly becomes unreal. In the same way, when all subjective complications are forgotten once and for all, the only flow of existence is revealed to have never ceased. Eternally This, ever flowing.
On freedom.

At the ultimate point, beyond which you can go no further, You get to where there are no rules, no standards, To where thought can accept Impartiality, To where effect of action ceases, Doubt is washed away, belief has no obstacle. Nothing is left over, nothing remembered; Space is bright, but self-illumined; no power of mind is exerted. Nor indeed could mere thought bring us to such a place. Nor could sense or feeling comprehend it. It is the Truly-so, the Transcendent Sphere, where there is neither He nor I.
For swift converse with this sphere use the concept "Not Two;" In the "Not Two" are no separate things, yet all things are included. The wise throughout the Ten Quarters have had access to this Primal Truth; For it is not a thing with extension in Time or Space; A moment and an aeon for it are one. Whether we see it for fail to see it, it is manifest always and everywhere. The very small is as the very large when boundaries are forgotten; The very large is as the very small when its outlines are not seen.

Thusness is the place of non-abiding. No one does the non-abiding so we can say that it happens of itself. This is the freedom that is sought after through endless kalpas of thoughts and emotions. Who would have thought that even thoughts and emotions are of themselves, part of it.
William Blake says:

To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour. 

On the futility of words and trusting the Heart.

Being is an aspect of Non-being; Non-being is an aspect of Being. In climes of thought where it is not so the mind does ill to dwell. The One is none other than the All, the All none other than the One. Take your stand on this, and the rest will follow of its own accord; To trust in the Heart is the Not Two, the Not Two is to trust in the Heart. I have spoken, but in vain; for what can words tell Of things that have no yesterday, tomorrow or today?

Here we meet the paradox of being and non being, of using words to describe the word-less. What does it really mean to trust the Heart? We cannot convey that in any direct way using language. To be honest, we cannot convey much directly using language. Seeing things as not two, or not separate is to have trust in the Heart, or to put it in another way, not closing yourself off via intellectual analysis or emotional reactions is to have trust in the Heart. What is your take on all of this?

Just a theory, possibly totally unrelated. But there are some new confirmable pieces and connections that I haven’t seen mentioned at all yet. So if I’m wrong at least there is a partially correct timeline here that can be edited to correctness. My last attempt to connect any dots I think. Please feel free to find holes and debunk it and suggest edits.
TLDR: Maybe the big deal is that these items were from a robbery that took place nearby days prior. There were two bags taken and articles only mention one being found. The robbers were reported to have been seen else where on CCTV counting money, so they may have been able to make a sale in the area. The same bag could have ended up at the Mark. EP said he was given a big bag to dispose of. In EP’s case the chain of custody should be legally sound, but for someone else buying or possessing stolen property prior to that, it’s illegal in NY even if you’re unaware.
The robbery occurred on 1/18/23 and was reported on 1/21/23. This is on 83rd and The Mark Hotel is on 77th. Half a mile walk through the park away. EP mentioned a big bag that hotel staff was told to dispose of.
A NY post article about this murder mentions:
“A young woman — who was entering the building carrying a large bag that appeared to contain clothing - choked back tears when asked if she was related to the victim. ‘It's very, very hard for me and my family. We've already talked to the police and the district attorney. I don't want to talk anymore,’ the woman said, without identifying herself.”
The victim was SA’d. House was ransacked. “The two suspects loaded up Hernandez’s belongings into a blue rolling Jansport backpack and a green rolling bag and were on CCTV divvying up cash, prosecutors said.”.
Same day Drake is seen leaving The Mark hotel.. He is seen the next day at a listening party in New Jersey.
These were posted August 2023 by EP on his Facebook page. They look like older lady clothes. But ofc, this could just be things left behind at the hotel by others.These are the only clothes EP ever posted on his Facebook.
The victim being an upper east side woman she probably had some nice things, clothing and jewelry in particular as ladies do especially at her age. And the jewelry EP posted didn’t look new or like it would have been for a younger girl.
EP implies Drake/team only wanted one thing from a big bag and EP implies there was loads of jewelry left behind. They said the rest of the stuff in the big bag was trash. Because the items were expensive and not really just any random stuff, it was instead put into lost and found.
There’s an incident report from Mark security on July 20th. Probably when EP had to work as security with protests that Theodore organized.. EP appears to express frustration with the protestor situation for which he nearly got arrested. This was probably the next time he saw Drake since January. EP keeps mentioning 7/27/23. This is the day he was named the protestor lawsuit.
EP mentions Officer Viola had a CCRB citation for trying to contain the protest. Officer Viola and EP both impacted negatively. EP mentioned that this rapport with the officer probably saved him from getting arrested
EP is going thru it at this point. [EP cites many examples of why he takes offense for treatment of staff. And hubris. The man he almost got arrested he alleges staff isn’t being treated in a way that feels respectful He mentions he still has to give the friendly enjoy your evening. He cites cultural frustrations as well, echoing Kenny’s “not like us” sentiments.
At some point EP’s is instructed by his director to clean out the lost and found. By August he’s so fed up that he’s going to sell these things redacted lol figure it out ig. He posts them on Facebook.
Fast forward to now, and Kendrick drops a diss track. At some point, Akademiks told that EP had the items and accused theft, according to EP. or him and Drake both did not sure who he’s directing this at.
“Meet the Grahams” comes out and EP said I understood the assignment. Kenny at some point gets the album art from EP with item’s that appear to have belonged to Drake.
Drake releases “The Heart Part 6” said that he fed the cover art content to Kenny. Why would he lie about that? Why not say wow Kenny you got people going through my trash? Or is he telling the truth?
Buying stolen goods is illegal. But EP, on the other hand, obtained the items after they were disposed of, which should be legal if I understand correctly especially if unclaimed after x many days.
EP’s manager finds out about the album cover and questions him about how the items were obtained. But staff knew that EP had these items already according to EP. He was instructed to not throw them in the trash originally and then months later instructed to clean out the lost and found. EP implies that policy/practice allows him to claim the items at this point.
He claims he explains to his boss how the items were obtained. She advises him to get a lawyer which is strange because staff knew these items were in the lost and found and that by law, if they aren’t claimed within a certain amount of time they’re fair game. But if they’re stolen from a murdered scene, yeah you might want to speak to a lawyer because possession of stolen property is illegal even if you didn’t know it was stolen. It also may implicate you in a murder that took place nearby. It doesn’t make sense to me that EP’s boss would advise a lawyer when she would probably know the chain of possession and policies. It could be that it was only due to theft allegations from the album cover release but if policy and law was followed then this seems a little out of place, especially if they didn’t want the items back anyway.
EP alleges that police were called because someone got assaulted this night. I’m not sure who this is but It appears to be the same man pictured about a minute later.
EP tweeted
“Those were good men… One was from Texas. He loved cowboy boots, guns, and horses. other was from the Bronx, and well on his way to becoming a "Blue H.E.N.R.Y."
[redacted fill in the blank urself ok]
Tweets about them: Here Here Here

Vi walked the all-too-familiar streets of the slums. A child lay in the street, abandoned. The young girl sobbed into her dress as townsfolk passed without a second glance. Memories rushed to the surface at the sight of her. Vi fought back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. When this assignment was over, The Order would finally accept her as a member. No one would hurt her again.
Vi chewed her lip as she tapped her fingers together in succession—thumb and index, then middle, ring, and finally pinky—repeating the motion several times. I’m not ready for this. I’m going to fail. They’ll kill me if I fail.
She scanned the street, trying to disentangle her mind from the waves of customers crowding the vendors, each patron haggling for the best deal. The smells of bread and sweetmeats wafted in the air, fusing with the merchants touting their wares, composing the symphony that was the market. Finding her mark in this mob would be complicated, and The Order would accept nothing less than perfection.
Vi double-checked her disguise. Her vibrant red wig flowed down in waves to rest upon her shoulders. She wore an apple cap pulled tight to hide the wig’s shoddy craftsmanship. Accompanied by the motley of ragged clothes, she was indistinguishable from the other beggars who plagued the streets.
Satisfied, Vi twisted the ring on her finger; a small needle protruded from a hidden groove underneath. Carefully, she reversed the spin of the ring to conceal the weapon. She scanned the street for her target, ready to do what she needed.
A young man across the street caught her attention; he wore a red scarf embroidered with silver daggers, just as The Order described. Vi’s heart rate doubled as he stopped at the bread vendor directly in front of her. She took a deep breath and tapped her fingers methodically one last time to steady herself.
This is it, Vi. If you do this, there is no going back. She thought about her life before The Order took her in. She had barely survived the streets, begging and stealing what she could just to prolong her wretched life. There was no way she would go back to that now. Convinced, she scanned the exits—families, merchants, beggars, and guards flooded the streets, creating a maze of sorts.
Content, she slid down the steps and weaved through the masses towards the young man like a snake slithering towards its victim. Her hands shook as she approached him, doubt creeping up with each step. He was barely old enough to grow hair on his face. Did this man deserve to die?
The memories of that night washed over her like a wave. Her father lay on the ground, a knife protruding from his chest, the shine erased by the dark blood that surrounded it. A man with jagged teeth knelt over her mother, gradually turning to look at Vi.
He smiled at her with a crooked grin that would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. "Don't worry, child. I haven't forgotten about you." He chortled a rough, cracking laugh that turned into a cough.
She snapped back to reality. Tears welled in her eyes as all reservations shattered. She would go through with this, no matter the cost. She twisted the ring as she advanced, her eyes blank from emotion.
Vi feigned a trip and stumbled into the man, stabbing him with the needle. "I’m sorry, sir. I haven’t eaten in a week and I just got a bit dizzy," she lied as the needle dug into the man's arm.
He regained his balance and paused before handing a piece of copper to the bread merchant. The man picked up a loaf and ripped a bit off for Vi. He smiled. "Here you go. No one should have to go so long without eating."
Her face wilted. What have I done? She spun without a word, refusing to take the piece of bread. Her eyes filled with tears as she walked away.
The sound of a thud reverberated as the young man's body hit the hard dirt. It was too much for Vi. Tears flowed down her face uncontrollably as she ran. She didn’t look back. She would never look back.

I’m aware that this is unconventional. Believe me, I’ve tried conventional – it didn’t end well for anyone. I require a certain open mindedness that I’m hoping I might find here, but more importantly, I need my future husband to know the rules. Meet-cutes are well and good on the screen, but they don’t guarantee a partner’s ability to follow basic instructions. That was my mistake the first time.
So, begging your pardon for my bluntness, I’m going to be clear about my requirements. Please read carefully – if you can’t meet them, there’s no point in going any further.

• Must want children. At least one child, anyway. I’m open to the idea of more, but one is an absolute must.
• Must be in it for the long haul. Until our child turns eighteen, to be precise. I understand that level of commitment is a daunting prospect, particularly when we have not yet met. After our child is born, you are welcome to ignore me, if you please, or take your pleasure elsewhere – though I will warn you that it might be difficult to come by. But you will live under my roof until our child is an adult.
• Homebody preferred. It will make the next two decades easier on you.
• Must have impeccable manners. I will provide a manual outlining the required etiquette, but you must at least have a grasp of basic courtesy to begin with. If you let your tongue run away with you, or don’t bother to wish your neighbours a good morning when you pass them in the street, stop reading – this is not the opportunity for you. Seriously.

This is the part where I should talk about myself, but let’s face it, this is hardly a romantic proposal. I require commitment up-front and there’s no guarantee that, once we do meet, we’ll really even like each other. If we do? Fantastic! It’ll help the years fly by. If we don’t, you’ll still have the main prize – years of rent-free, expenses-free living at The Old Oak Hotel.
A sanctuary has stood in this spot in one form or another since before the ley lines. During its tenure, it has been flooded, put to the flame, and pounded into dust. Time and again, it has been reimagined and rebuilt. Most of the current building dates back to Victoria’s reign, though the oldest parts were constructed in the 13^th century. At the very bottom of the garden, cut into the surrounding hills, there is a cave bearing handprints of red ochre.
There has always been an Edwards at the hotel, though of course we haven’t always gone by that name. You would think a family so tied to one place would do a better job of keeping records, but no one is certain of our origins. Perhaps it was a cosmic bargain, or perhaps mere luck – whether good or bad, I have never been able to decide. Either way, our presence is required. Throughout our spotty past, there’s a story here and there of an Edwards deserting their post, and it always coincides with a particularly brutal period of history.
I inherited the position five years ago. At midnight on my eighteenth birthday, my parents took their already-packed suitcases and left. I don’t blame them for their abandonment; I intend to one day do the same thing to my – or, hopefully, our – child.
They send me postcards and photos from time-to-time, always smiling on sunny beaches. Money isn’t a concern for them. That’s part of whatever mysterious deal our ancestors made – when a caretaker leaves in good-standing, they will never want for anything again. They could travel the world for the rest of their lives, always sleeping in the softest sheets and dining in the finest restaurants, and never find their pockets empty.
Keep this point in mind, for if you can meet my requirements, you will share my good fortune.
And what must we do in return? I can all but hear you scream the question. Why, very little. The presence of an Edwards ensures that the guests can’t stray from the hotel grounds. Most of our guests are live-in residents, though we do get the occasional walk-in. Where they come from, I don’t know, for we are not visible to most people who stumble upon our lonely corner of the world. I’ve come to believe the hotel chooses to reveal itself when its lacking entertainment, or to fill a need.
Jimmy, my first husband, was one such guest.
For the most part, the guests are harmless. They’ll give you a little fright from time-to-time, popping out from a wall or turning your bathwater into blood, but I find it hard to hold it against them. I’ve found twenty-three years here dreary; I can’t imagine how bored I would be after five hundred.
There are a few exceptions you should be aware of:

• Eric. Our resident serial murderer. He claims to have been Jack the Ripper while he still drew breath, but I think he’s just a blowhard. He knows better than to harm an Edwards, but I’m afraid spouses are fair game. Years ago, my grandmother managed to confine him to the fourth floor, so you will be perfectly safe from him as long as you never set foot there. Occasionally, the lift will stop on that floor even though you haven’t pressed the button for it. Do not get out. Even if the lift appears to be on fire or starts filling with murky water. Wait for the doors to close again, then go to another floor. It should only take a few hours.
• The Thing in the Cellar. I don’t know what It is; no one ever has. We only know It eats rats and must be fed once a day. If I’m ever ill or incapacitated, this task will fall to you. Harvest the rats from the traps in the garden, then stand at the cellar door and throw them down the stairs. Do not walk down the stairs and do not forget to feed It. You don’t want to be the first person to see Its’ face.
• Mrs Jones. Old fashioned and a stickler for manners, she’s the reason I’m advertising for a husband rather than a boyfriend. She won’t abide a couple living in sin under the same roof as her. Really, though, she’s a sweet old thing. Full of stories about the war and always ready to help if I get stuck on a recipe. I don’t blame her for what happened with Jimmy at all. I’d warned him enough times.

Guests aside, there are other rules you will need to follow to ensure a safe, satisfactory stay at The Old Oak Hotel. They are listed in a book that has been re-penned many times over the centuries. If you choose to accept this opportunity, I will insist that you read it until you can recite the pages word-for-word.
However, there are some rules so critical for your survival that I feel compelled to list them here:

• With the exception of the fourth floor, you are welcome to roam the hotel and its grounds as you please. But you must never set foot outside of our land – not until our child is old enough to fulfil their duties. If I were to do so, it would unleash pandemonium – plague, peril, perhaps another world war. I’m afraid you would be less crucial to the fate of the world, but it would certainly be a personal disaster.
• Never look in the mirrors in room 33.
• I’ve touched this point already, but it bears repeating: never be rude to Mrs Jones.

Failure to observe that last rule is what got Jimmy.
She doted on him. I think he reminded her of her long-dead son, for she pampered him as if he were one of her own. Each morning, she had breakfast ready for him before I had so much as opened my eyes, and she developed a habit of trailing along after him, complimenting his skill as he oiled rusted hinges or set a crooked picture straight.
At first, Jimmy basked in the attention. But by the end of his second month, he was growing bored of Mrs Jones, me, and the hotel itself. We pride ourselves on our facilities. If you need more activity than a turn around the garden, we have a lovely indoor pool – it freezes over every now and then, but most of the time it’s perfectly usable. Our library is unmatched. Although the room is cramped, it has every book imaginable; you only need to think of a particular title, and it will appear on one of the shelves. And now that I’ve dragged us kicking and screaming into the 21^st century, we have a wide array of streaming services.
It wasn’t enough for Jimmy. He wanted to go out – eat in a restaurant, watch a film in the cinema, see any faces other than the ones he was surrounded by every day. He began having a drink each evening. One drink turned into several, and after a few weeks, the bar became his permanent residence between dusk and midnight.
He wasn’t the only one getting bored. I had been thrilled when he first arrived; ecstatic when he agreed to stay. How marvellous to feel real flesh beneath my fingers after five years of only the dead for company. What a relief to have some assistance in the many tasks required to keep the hotel running as it should.
The more he drank, the less inclined he was to help – or even spend time in my company. He no longer visited my bed, choosing a room for himself on the opposite end of the floor. When our paths did cross, at best he would ignore me. At worst, he would nitpick or outright rail against me, blaming me for his captivity.
Still, I made an effort to be present whenever he frequented the bar. As lovely as Mrs Jones can be, she does have a tendency to nag. Before and after her death, she was close to teetotal, only consenting to take a single sherry at Christmas, and drinking outside of special occasions is something of a bugbear of hers.
“Think of your health, dear,” she would tell Jimmy brusquely. “You’ll miss it when it’s gone.”
Or, “How about we switch to a nice apple juice now? You’ve had quite enough to drink for one night.”
Most of the time, Jimmy managed to pull himself together enough to flash a charming smile and distract her with a compliment about her latest meal. But after one drink too many, I’d noticed him gritting his teeth and just barely managing to hold his tongue.
It was better if I was present. Playing the doting wife, I insisted on pouring his drinks, watering them down out of his sight. When Mrs Jones’s nagging bordered on relentless, I could always distract her with a game of gin rummy.
On his final day, I was running behind. The ghoul on the second floor – usually the least demanding of our guests – had come down with some dreadful illness, or else decided he wanted to inconvenience me. Either way, I had woken that morning to the foulest stench I had ever experienced. I followed it to his room and found every surface covered in putrid green-blank gunge, its consistency somewhere between mucus and vomit.
All day I scrubbed, taking only brief breaks to step outside before I fainted. By the time the room was restored to a passable state, and I had filled several bin bags to bursting with filthy rags, it was already deep into the night. Mindful of the time, I paused only long enough to wash the streaks of muck from my arms and face before racing to the bar.
I arrived just in time to hear Jimmy’s last words. After he spat them at Mrs Jones, she only stared for a small eternity, her mouth frozen in the motherly smile she wore whenever she scolded him.
Then, like melted wax, her face began to shift.
I shouted at Jimmy to run, but he didn’t need to be told. Before the words left my mouth, he leapt from his barstool and streaked through the door. Mrs Jones followed him seconds later. Her lips were already peeling back to reveal rows upon rows of long, wickedly sharp fangs, while claws sprouted from beneath her lace-edged cuffs.
I sprinted after them, but Jimmy was fuelled by fear and Mrs Jones by whatever force propels the Mrs Joneses of the world. I followed the screeching to the lobby. Breathless, I arrived to see he had arrived within mere feet of the entrance before Mrs Jones grabbed him.
Claws wrapped around his throat, she lifted him into the air. As I watched, her jaw unhinged, the lower part dropping so that it was nearly level with her chest.
That sight drove all the sense out of my head. Forgetting every rule my parents had ever drilled into me, I lunged at her.
She batted me away as though I weighed no more than a fly.
I crashed into the reception desk, the breath bursting from my lungs in a great woosh. I was certain that I would die, for no amount of effort seemed to force air back into my aching chest. At last, as my vision began to dim, I managed to take a small gulp – then another, and another, until I was able to draw myself together enough to regain my feet.
By that time, Mrs Jones had nearly finished her dinner. Jimmy’s chest was splayed open, muscle and shattered ribs protruding every which way from his flesh, and she was devouring the last few bites of his heart.
His head was angled towards me. The light had winked out from his eyes, but they still held his final terror – and an accusation which, I was quite certain, was directed at me. I would like to say I felt only horror, but I couldn’t help my sudden jolt of irritation. How may times had I told him to mind his manners?
Mrs Jones gulped, the sound thick and wet in her gullet, and dropped what remained of Jimmy to the floor.
Then she turned to me.
Here’s another rule for you, one which I hope you never have cause to use: never interfere with a kill.
The Mrs Jones who used to kiss my grazed knees, who argued with my mother for the right to read me bedtime stories, was no longer at the wheel. No amount of pleading or reasoning would move her.
I could only run.
Spinning around, I vaulted over the reception desk and raced for the office behind it. If Jimmy had not been out of his mind with fear and booze, he might have remembered the rules and survived; it was one of several staff-only rooms throughout the hotel warded to keep out unwanted guests.
Just ten steps from desk to door, yet it was the longest journey of my life. My hard-won breath burned my throat; my heart pounded in my ears, deafening me to all other sounds than Mrs Jones’s heavy, pounding footsteps.
Grasping the handle, her hot, copper-tanged breath was on my neck. Fire exploded in my flesh as she raked her claws down my back. A step further away, and I wouldn’t have made it; the pain would have been too great. But I managed to throw myself into the office and slam the door before crumpling to the ground.
Before I passed out, I heard her grunting and shrieking outside, furious that she couldn’t get in.
Three days I spent in the office, emerging only to feed The Thing in the Cellar before scurrying back to my hiding place. Whenever I left, I tried not to look at the mangled heap that used to be Jimmy. There was no avoiding the smell, though.
With no small difficulty, and the help of a first aid kit, I managed to treat and bandage the wounds on my back. They bled sluggishly all throughout the first day, but thankfully didn’t fester.
On the morning of the fourth day, there was a tentative knock on the door followed by the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. I waited until they had disappeared down the corridor before cracking the door open. On the floor was a freshly baked Victoria sponge and a beautifully written note of apology.
It took every ounce of courage I possessed, but that evening I forced myself to go to the dining room. Mrs Jones was waiting for me, her eyes red-rimmed, a steaming cottage pie on the table. I tried not to flinch as she took my hand, re-iterating the apology she had already delivered in writing.
The next morning, she helped me clean Jimmy up.
We treated each other cautiously for a while, but eventually we got back to playing gin rummy again. When the scars on my back twinge, as they sometimes do, she helps me rub a soothing ointment into them. Even though I’ve told her it’s not necessary, she apologises every time.
So, you’ve heard my story and you have my proposal. If you think you could be the man for me, I invite you to visit. You will need to drink a cup of ram’s blood (a pinch of nutmeg makes it a little more tolerable) and light a black candle before bedtime. When you next wake, you will find yourself at our gates. As travel arrangements go, it’s hardly the Orient Express, but it beats the airfare.
If you have read this without flinching, if you can stomach the journey to get here, if you walk up to our door and find the nerve to open it, I have one more instruction for you.
Just as you enter, look to your right. You will see a deep brown stain on the lobby carpet. I’ve scrubbed and scrubbed but it just won’t come out. Perhaps that’s for the best. It’s a good reminder of what will happen to you should you call Mrs Jones a “nosy old bat”.
And when you run into Jimmy – as you will, for he still likes hanging around the bar in the evening, his silvery wounds glistening as though they had just been inflicted – don’t let him convince you he was some sort of victim.
He knew the rules.

(continuation of part 4)
I already considered this piece the second greatest musical evidence for Clerith after the London Symphony Orchestra’s Final Fantasy VII Symphony’s second movement “Words Drowned by Fireworks” and its guide, but now that I know about the Clerith reunion that was baked into the ending, the gap between the two is narrower. Each time I hear Cloud begin to call out for Aerith in part 3 (3:04), I immediately start crying. It sounds so much to me like Cloud’s voice in the dark saying “Aerith…?”, meek and scared. If you’ve read everything so far, you know how long Cloud has been looking for Aerith, lost without her, searching relentlessly for decades in real-life time. Through FFT, DFF, Advent Children, MFF x FFVII… all of it spent looking for his Promised Land. In OG, Cloud was so tormented by Jenova’s manipulation and so consumed by the chase for Sephiroth that he could not realize what or how much he felt for her until she was taken away forever. The piece we’ve just analyzed tells the story of Cloud and Aerith intertwining and separating against their will, and you can truly feel Cloud’s anxiety as he struggles to wrench Aerith out of fate’s cruel grasp. Perhaps it is because of Aerith’s ultimately fatal responsibility, inherited from her mother, that this iteration of her theme is called “The Cetra”.
Though in part 5, Cloud and Aerith reunite… could this reunion symbolize their meeting again in Remake, or something more permanent? I think it’s meant to leave us wondering.
I’m very sensitive to music, and as I’m typing this, I’m crying a bit. I wanted to share my interpretation of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” with you very badly, because it makes me feel so much and really enhances Clerith’s story. I’m overjoyed to have found out about the reunion at the very end. And it’s all because you guys showed love for my last analysis! You guys are giving me gifts every day.
V. b) i. 3) Combined Analysis
Please listen to and watch the scene of Cloud’s MOTF 6 (4:21-8:46) again, and consider section “V. b) i. 2)”. What is Uematsu telling us? Similarly to how main world theme of FFVII informs us that Jenova is sabotaging Cloud’s identity far before it becomes a plot point in OG, “Aerith’s theme - The Cetra” is telling us what not even Remake Cloud consciously knows at this point: he’s been searching desperately for her, and fears losing her once more.
As if that wasn’t proof enough, the timing of the shots and musical phrases is absolutely damning. Recall that part 3 of “Aerith’s theme - The Cetra” specifically symbolizes Cloud’s anxiety surrounding Aerith’s safety. It is this particular part of the piece that plays for the entirety of Aerith’s allusions to her murderers and her death (7:25-7:54), including the very moment where “Cloud feels his chest constrict tightly” (7:51-7:54). What’s more, part 5 the piece, which specifically Cloud freeing Aerith from the restraints of fate, coincides with the moment Tifa grabs Aerith’s hand and pulls her out from the circle of Whispers closing in on her (8:42-8:45). This moment leads me to believe that the reunion in part 5 of the piece indeed symbolizes Cloud succeeding (perhaps with Tifa’s help) in saving Aerith from her tragic fate and reuniting with her for good.
It’s heart-wrenching and brilliant. Our theory stands strong.
V. b) ii. Credits: Piece Inclusion
I find it very telling that the character themes included in the credits of Remake are Cloud’s “Hollow” (0:00-5:24), an orchestral arrangement of Aerith’s theme (5:24-9:24), and an orchestral arrangement of the main world theme, (9:24-14:27) which of course includes Cloud’s true theme. No other character themes appear during the rest of the credits (14:27-18:09). This is telling: the credits are communicating to us that Remake is about Cloud and Aerith. Our Mission Theory only gets stronger.
V. b) iii. Showing Relationships Through Music: Intermingling Character Themes
This doesn’t have to do with the Mission, but here’s a pretty good anti-Cloti argument while we’re here.
As shown in section “V. a) i.” where we explored the roles of Cloud, Jenova and Sephiroth’s themes within the FFVII world theme, the way character themes interact in a piece can tell you a lot about those characters’ relationships. This is certainly the case in “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” as well (see section “V. b. ii. 2)”).
I’d like to mention that in all of my listening to the Remake OST and rewatching playthroughs of Remake, I’ve never encountered a single piece that united Cloud and Tifa’s themes. Not once. Let alone a piece that depicts them as intimately or emotionally as “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” depicts Cloud and Aerith. Even the most Cloti cutscenes in Remake aren’t supported by pieces mixing or even juxtaposing Cloud and Tifa’s themes. I can’t find any of Cloud’s motifs anywhere during the orchestral arrangement of Tifa’s theme that plays during her resolution scene in chapter 14. I can’t find either of their motifs in the track the plays when Cloud calls Tifa beautiful at Seventh Heaven in chapter 3. A motif from Tifa’s theme does appear in the track that plays during the childhood promise scene in chapter 4, (0:00-0:25), but it never plays at the same time as or even near Cloud’s motifs (1:23-1:47 and 2:03-2:29). They’re distant or otherwise unaffiliated.
The only exception is that an altered version of Cloud’s theme’s section A phrase 1 appears in the background of Tifa’s theme (1:17-1:23). This symbolizes her connection to Cloud and how much of her attention and worry revolve around him— a reference to how she cares so much that it borders on dependency. Of course, it doesn’t go both ways: Tifa isn’t in Cloud’s theme at all. To me, this lack of reciprocity concerning the inclusion of Cloud’s motif in Tifa’s theme signifies that the only time Cloud and Tifa are together is in her head. She does think about him a lot, which we witness in her chapter of Trace of Two Pasts. Tifa loses sleep over him even two years after he left Nibelheim, despite the fact that she barely knew him at all:

“The moment she heard the word “Soldier”, the few memories she had with Cloud Strife came flooding back. He never contacted her after they parted ways two years ago […]. She tossed and turned all night. When she counted them again, her memories with Cloud were so surprisingly few that others might find it hard to believe that they grew up as next-door neighbors” (Trace of Two Pasts, translated by pekotranslates on Tumblr).

FFVII Remake Ultimania also comments on the superficial nature of Cloud and Tifa’s water tower promise, and how regardless of its naïveté, it became fundamental to Tifa:

“Though rooted in a jejune heroine fantasy of being rescued in a pinch by her hero, this promise is clearly etched in Tifa’s memory” (Tifa’s profile in section 01 of “Character & World”, “An Enduring Childhood Promise” in “Topics of Tifa” page 20).

You could argue that “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” is only one song wherein Cloud and Aerith’s themes interweave, but you’d be proven wrong by the Rebirth OST…
V. c) The Rebirth OST
Unfortunately, the full Rebirth OST isn’t out and available where I can listen to it right now. However, based solely on the incomplete OST that’s available to me right now, I can tell you with certainty that the composers were told to incorporate Clerith into the musical storytelling: Cloud and Aerith’s themes intermingle in multiple pieces. I can’t imagine what else I’ll discover once I listen to the full OST. For now, I checked out what was available on YouTube and listened to cutscene audios. This section would be eternal if I included every time Cloud and Aerith’s motifs interact, especially in chapter 14. Trust me, I’d love to talk about every single one, but this thing is long enough already, so let’s just address what pertains to our Mission Theory specifically rather than stopping at every single Clerith reference in the OST.
V. c) i. Ending Cutscene Music
Ending cutscenes are often used to address the next step the characters will be taking as well as their emotional and mental state. They also open up new questions to make the player curious. Indeed, Rebirth’s ending cutscene (18:56-25:00) gives us an impression of how the party members feel by the end of the game: everyone misses Aerith. Barret looks upset and confused at the mention of her (19:35-19:45), the girls are crying and Nanaki is mourning (19:58-20:35). Additionally, we are shown the empty White Materia and Black Materia in Cloud’s possession (20:40-21:24), foreshadowing that they will come to be important in part 3. Cloud and Aerith share a warm goodbye, and exchange promises: Aerith will send smoke signals if something happens to her so a worried Cloud can remain updated on her well-being and she will stop Meteor, and Cloud will stop Sephiroth (23:00-25:00). The fact that this scene is animated in CGI is enough to tell us that the devs consider it narratively important, just like they do Bugenhagen’s observatory and the party’s advance into the Forgotten Capital CGI cutscenes. What did the composers decide to communicate with us about the end of Rebirth and the plot going forward?
Big surprise: Clerith.
During the entire cutscene, only two themes play: Cloud’s and Aerith’s. The cutscene’s music begins only when Cloud notices Aerith among the party members and begins watching her (19:21). She interacts with the rest of the party without their knowledge, different segments of her theme playing one after another. Her theme only stops when Cloud finally looks away from her and to the empty White Materia in his hand (20:45). The music focuses on the mystery and ominousness of these materia, only returning to Aerith once Cloud hears her voice and repeats her message to the party (21:30).
Cloud’s theme appears when he asserts that Barret needn’t worry about him (section A of Cloud’s true theme, 22:41), though soft and tentative, only swelling when Barret and Tifa climb aboard the Tiny Bronco and Cloud finds himself alone with Aerith again (22:57). As he asks Aerith if “[she’ll] be okay getting back” (23:08), the final phrase of section A of his theme plays, but without its concluding note, the tonic. He waits for her to answer him as his theme waits for hers to complete and answer it, that final note dragging long over the seconds (23:09-23:13). She answers with a teasing remark that references their unwillingness to part from each other back in Remake’s Evergreen Park:

“[Cloud has] a chat with Aerith, from whom he’s reluctant to part” (chapter 9 in section 04 “Scenario”, “Main Story Digest”, “4. Saying Goodbye”, page 275)”.

As soon as Aerith answers Cloud’s question with this romantic callback, her theme answers his too: section C of Aerith’s theme begins with the key’s tonic, resolving Cloud’s incomplete phrase (23:13): she gives him resolution. He chuckles, getting her reference, and the music swells (23:16). The music ebbs and flows thusly, following the rhythms and underlying emotions of their conversation. Finally, the piece ends with phrase 2 of of section A of Cloud’s true theme, following a strong repetition of the first half of Aerith’s theme’s section A. The two make their promises to each other, and “No Promises to Keep” begins, leading us to the credits. This is most definitely a Clerith song, but more on that later.
What this shows us is that Cloud and Aerith’s relationship is fundamental to the plot of Rebirth and will also be fundamental to the plot of part 3: they are isolated one one-on-one in this cutscene, and the music depicts their warm, sweet interaction as well as the strength of Aerith’s character to contrast with Cloud’s somewhat meek personality. The composers are telling us that these two, specifically, together alone, are hugely important to the plot here. This was already true in OG, but no such emphasis was ever placed on their interactions and relationship in its music. Something is different, deeper, more intense now. The Mission Theory explains why. It also suits our theory that the composers are emphasizing the centrality of Clerith in the plot of the Remake trilogy. Cloud’s love for Aerith is the reason for the trilogy’s existence, and it will be the greatest motivator for Cloud in part 3. It’s a grand announcement.
Just like in Remake, I could not find a single instance of Cloud and Tifa’s themes interacting in Rebirth, apart from at the end of the intimate Skywheel date— but every girl receives this treatment in their intimate dates, so each of these instances can be crossed out. Additionally, the Tifa date is not the canon one, but I digress…
V. c) iii. Credits

1. Piece Inclusion

Once more, I find it very telling that of all the pieces included in the credits of Rebirth, the only character themes are Cloud’s and Aerith’s. We start with a song about Aerith’s point of view to mirror *Remake’*s “Hollow”, “No Promises to Keep” (5:18-11:10), followed by the FFVII world theme (11:10-16:12) which of course contains Cloud’s true theme, then we move into a piece whose unofficially translated title is “Parade Battle Ceremony - The Dawn of a New World” as an arrangement of the parade ceremony theme from chapter 4 (16:12-19:03), followed by a theme for the Lifestream springs whose name I don’t have (19:03-21:38), “Junon - Fortified Metropolis” (21:38-24:28), and finally, a gorgeous arrangement of Aerith’s theme (24:28-28:47). No other character is referenced in the credits music: the credits are telling us Rebirth is about Clerith. Our Mission Theory explains why.
V. c) iii. 2) “No Promises to Keep”
At the very end of this song written and performed by Aerith, we’re treated with a sweet little piano conclusion (10:46-11:10): it begins with a variation on Aerith’s theme’s section A (10:46-11:01), and concludes with two ascending arpeggios, each four notes long (11:01-11:10). Each of these ascending arpeggios is a variation of the phrase 1 of Cloud’s true theme’s section A. The differences are minimal. The phrase is usually five notes long rather than four, the first arpeggio ends on the tonic rather than Cloud’s iconic subtonic, and the second arpeggio starts on the subtonic rather than the tonic. The song Aerith wrote concludes with Cloud’s most famous motif. This is also the case in her Gold Saucer performance (3:31-3:41).
V. c) iii. 3) Arrangement of Aerith’s Theme
The final piece in the credits is an arrangement of Aerith’s theme (24:28-28:47) which has noticeably similar elements to the version of her theme that plays during the Jenova Lifeclinger battle in chapter 14 (0:12-3:36), such as the female choirs. Since these female choirs are only heard in the Forgotten City version of Aerith’s theme, and since the credits arrangement of her theme plays at the same time as clips from her chapter 14 pseudo-death roll across the screen, I estimate that this credits arrangement specifically reflects the event of Aerith’s pseudo-death. Recall that composers had access to the credits video as they composed, meaning this piece is specifically written for Aerith’s pseudo-death in Rebirth.
What I find fascinating is that, just like the arrangements of her theme that play during Aerith’s pseudo-death and the Jenova Lifeclinger battle, this credits arrangement contains the sound of Cloud’s pain, rage and protest. Phrase 1 and the first three notes of phrase 2 of Cloud’s true theme section A play on the strings and brass quite loudly and insistently, just as Cloud blocking masamune appears on the credits screen (25:11-25:21). Sephiroth’s dissonant, high and screechy violins appear just as his face comes onto the screen (26:33), and almost as a protective response, phrases 1 and 2 of Cloud’s true theme’s section A return (26:47-27:00). Finally, similarly to what we hear in part 5 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra”, a slightly modified section A phrase 1 of Cloud’s true theme play along with section C phrase 3 of Aerith’s theme (oh wow section A and C section Aerith for Cloud’s theme and section Cloud for Aerith’s theme I just realized that’s such a cute coincidence), though unfortunately they do not meet in the middle like last time since they start two octaves apart (28:20-28:25). I’ve recreated it for you once more here so you can really appreciate it. The fact that their motifs don’t truly reunite like in “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” is sad, but the very last thing you see onscreen is Aerith’s goodbye to the Tiny Bronco (27:10-27:42), so it makes sense that this piano conclusion implies that Cloud and Aerith aligned, but not yet reunited for good. That’s exactly what you get from the ending cutscene. It does seem to imply that they will be reunited in part 3, as both the ending cutscene and this piano conclusion read as a “till we see each other again” rather than a “farewell”.

VI. Textual Evidence

Now that the musical evidence is done, let’s compile some textual story evidence that supports our theory!
VI. a) Remake Trilogy (Thus Far) Handholding Explained?
As I’m sure you’ve noticed, handholding is a motif in Cloud and Aerith’s relationship— and an extremely symbolic one at that! When researching for info to validate my theory, I found that this Clerith motif was extremely helpful! Its inclusion in the Remake trilogy, and especially in Rebirth, is hugely significant in my eyes.
VI. a) i. Pre-Remake Trilogy: Aerith’s Initiative
Before examining the significance of Clerith handholding in Remake and Rebirth, we should establish the meaning of this motif in OG and Advent Children.
Cloud and Aerith have reached out to take each other’s hands many times since 1997. Aerith used to literally drag him by the hand a lot, shocking the cold and distant merc, before she left. After her death in OG, Cloud surely longed to be able to feel her hand take his again, cursing himself for not enjoying it while she was alive, and for never being the one to grasp her hand first: he never got to tell her how he feels about her, or to save her. It was always her reaching out for him, saving him.
This is why the scene in OG when Aerith reaches for him from the Lifestream after Cloud defeats Sephiroth in chapter 3 of disk 3 is so touching: Cloud sees her hand and reaches out to take it, so close to finally establishing that mutual connection, but she soon fades, and replaced by Tifa’s hand in the tangible world. He doesn’t get to hold Aerith’s hand again.
That is, not until Advent Children, where near the end of his battle with Bahamut Sin, he sees Aerith reach out to him once again (1:08-1:30). Cloud finally gets to hold her hand for the first time in two years when he lost her. This moment was given extra importance by the devs. In fact, Nojima told us the following:

“The ending scene of the battle with Bahamut, the scene where Aerith reaches out her hand, is an homage to the last scene from a previous production. It was [Nomura]'s idea” (FFVII Reunion Files, “Story Digest”, “Summoned Beast”, page 113).

VI. a) ii. The Remake Trilogy (Thus Far): Cloud’s Initiative
As I’ve said before, if I’m right that Remake is all about Cloud stepping up to be more attentive and active in his relationship with Aerith in order to save her, there should be concrete evidence of this in the Remaketrilogy thus far. If OG Cloud’s memories of and love for Aerith exist somewhere within Remake Cloud’s subconsciousness, then Remake Cloud should be far more active in the Clerith dynamic than OG Cloud was— after all, he’s supposed to know better this time around. Thankfully, the motif of handholding can help us evaluate this. Since we know pre-Remake Cloud was quite passive when it comes to handholding, Cloud initiating handholding in the Remake trilogy would be a strong indication that our theory has validity. Keeping this in mind, let’s see what we can find thus far in the Remake trilogy in relation to handholding, and if Cloud is indeed more active than he was in OG.
VI. a) ii. 1) Hollow Hands
Remake’s theme song “Hollow” makes allusions to the handholding motif: “This time, I will never let you go” is pretty clear. And so is “No Promises to Keep”, wherein Aerith speaks of Cloud “[taking her] hand and never [letting her] go” multiple times. Interestingly, these theme song lyrics seem to suggest that Cloud will be much more active in the Remake trilogy than in OG. “Hollow” even promises that Cloud will come to his senses and take charge of the situation: “this time, [he] will” be the one to offer his hand to Aerith, unlike in OG and Advent Children. This makes a lot of sense with our theory: now that Cloud has lost Aerith once, “this time for sure, [he]’ll” be the one to reach for Aerith’s hand, take initiative and save her the way she saved him.
Even though theme songs are extremely telling of a game’s main themes and intentions, lyrics are still all talk and no proof. What about the game itself? Do Remake and Rebirth deliver on this promise? Let’s see!
VI. a) ii. 2) Resolution Hands
The only significant time Cloud initiates handholding in Remake is during Cloud’s resolution scene in chapter 14 (5:18-5:40), wherein he tries to grab Aerith’s hand but is unable to keep her with him. He fills with determination and tells her in no uncertain terms that he’s coming for her. Just as we predicted, Cloud is the active participant in this iteration of the Clerith handholding motif: he’s even explicitly insisting against Aerith’s wishes that he should “get a say in all this” and that he’s “coming for [her]”. Let’s not forget that Cloud’s resolution is meant to reflect not only Aerith’s kidnapping by Shinra, but also her fated death. Nojima implied this by commenting the following on Aerith’s “Even if you think you have, it’s not real” line:

“Those who know what befalls Aerith later on will find the line really heart-wrenching” (FFVII Remake Ultimania, section 08 “Secrets”, “Development Staff Interviews, Part 2: Tetsuya Nomura, Yoshinori Kitase, Kazushige Nojima”, page 744).

Given this note by Nojima, it looks like we’re supposed to watch Cloud’s resolution scene with Aerith’s fated death in mind. Considering this, Cloud’s “I’m coming for you” line sure seems like an subconscious promise that he will save Aerith from her tragic fate. This subconscious promise could be the result of post-OG Cloud’s feelings and intentions rising to the surface. Nevertheless, he’s absolutely determined and he’s staying true to the promise he made in “Hollow”. I think it’s fair to say that this instance of the handholding Clerith motif does indeed fit perfectly with our theory. This is only one strong example though, and we need a pattern in order to pat ourselves on the back on this. So, let’s keep looking! There isn’t any handholding initiated by Cloud beyond that point in Remake. At this point in my research, I moved on to Rebirth to go digging for handholding there.
Hoo boy. I was not disappointed.
VI. a) ii. 3) Golden Hands
Let’s begin with the obvious. In their high-affinity gondola date in chapter 12, Cloud bravely interlaces his fingers with Aerith’s: Cloud’s taken charge not only of handholding, but the most intimate kind of handholding. I’m sure you’ve encountered the phrase “こいびとつなぎ” or “koibito tsunagi by now (literally translates to “lovers’ tie” or “lovers’ connection”); this is the term used in Japanese to refer to the type of handholding Cloud initiates with Aerith on the Skywheel. It’s considered the most intimate form of handholding. In Japan, skinship is normally considered quite significant and indicative of the closeness between two people— you could say it’s a big deal. Cloud also offers Aerith his hand when they step off the Shywheel, once more making the first move. Though some might say that the Skywheel dates shouldn’t be counted as canon, I believe Aerith’s date is indeed canon (I have my reasons but this post is long enough). Even if we discount the Skywheel date however, Clerith's use of the koibito tsunagi returns in a non-optional scene we will touch on later.
For what it’s worth, Alfreid offers Rosa his hand in the Loveless play too. I can prove that Aerith is the canon Rosa too, but I’m going to save that for my next analysis! You can take my word for it now, or just wait for that analysis to drop. Take it or leave it!
VI. a) ii. 4) Meta Hands
However, the narrative weight of these Clerith handholding instances doesn’t even come close to my very favorite iteration of the handholding motif in Rebirth. I’m referring to what I consider a severely underrated Clerith moment in chapter 13. First, some context: Sephiroth manipulates Cloud into giving over the Black Materia. Cloud seems to be firmly under Sephiroth’s control. However, the sight of Aerith being swarmed by Black Whispers snaps Cloud back into the driver’s seat: he breaks out of Sephiroth’s grasp to run to her and save her. Aerith gets knocked off into a fatal free-fall by a Black Whisper before Cloud can reach her, but he won’t have it: he lunges forward, hand extended. What results is a beautiful shot of their outstretched hands (56:25-56:27).
Let’s analyze this great shot. Notice how the seconds where Cloud is reaching downwards to grasp Aerith’s hand are treated. This key moment is stretched longer by a slow-mo effect, building up the tension and drawing the audience’s focus to the distance between their hands before Cloud actually catches Aerith’s in his, fulfilling the promise he made in “Hollow”. Their hands take up the whole screen in a deliberate close-up shot. All the ambient noises of the scene go quiet: Aerith’s theme is all we hear as Cloud reaches desperately for her. These are blatant audiovisual cues, signalling to the audience that whatever is happening on screen is especially significant. We should therefore examine this specific instance of the Clerith handholding motif to see what the devs are trying to tell us, and maybe it will fit with our theory!
We should begin by comparing this Clerith hand-reach shot to previous ones. If you compare it to the Advent Children’s hand-reach that occurs during Cloud’s battle against Bahamut Sin, it’s evident that Cloud and Aerith’s roles are reversed: just as our theory states, Cloud gets out from inside his head and reaches for Aerith this time. She saved him and the world in OG, and now it’s his turn to save her. This change becomes especially evident when you juxtapose the two scenes and notice how their hands have switched places, reaching from above and below, from left and right. I think the Rebirth hand-reach was deliberately made to look like the Advent Children one —and even the OG one in disk 3, chapter 3—, just to highlight this role reversal.
This Rebirth hand-reach is my favorite out of all because it shows that Cloud is much more conscious and attentive toward Aerith in Rebirth than he was in OG. At this point in OG (disk 1, chapter 25), Cloud is meant to be beating Aerith up at Sephiroth’s command, to the horror of the rest of the party. In fact, a few minutes before Cloud rushes to save Aerith in Rebirth, he has absolutely no problem violently shoving Tifa to the ground when she gets in Sephiroth’s way (53:27-53:33). This shove and Cloud’s earlier attack on Tifa in Gongaga (Rebirth, chapter 9) proves that Sephiroth is just as capable of making Cloud hurt his party members as he was in OG… though Sephiroth can’t seem to make Cloud hurt Aerith. Why is this? Why is it that Cloud beats Aerith in OG, but doesn’t even lay a finger on her —and snaps out of Sephiroth’s control at the mere sight of her in trouble— in Rebirth?
Our theory provides the answer. In disk 1, chapter 25 of OG, Cloud had not yet realized he loved Aerith. Sephiroth was therefore able to make him hurt her. But things are different in Rebirth. The Cloud we see in the Remake trilogy has gone through the OG timeline and traveled back in time, kicking off Remake as his second try at the OG timeline— and he did this precisely because he loves Aerith. His love for her is clearer and stronger in the Remake trilogy than in OG because Remake Cloud is an amnesiac, post-OG, time-traveler Cloud. He’s been through the OG before, has fallen in love with Aerith and realized it before, so this time around, he can’t even lay a finger on her. This is made evident by how closely the moments where Cloud pushes Tifa and saves Aerith are juxtaposed, separated by mere seconds of gameplay. Merely seeing Aerith in trouble wrenched control from Sephiroth and put it in Cloud’s hands again— Sephiroth probably couldn’t have gotten Cloud to attack Aerith if he tried.
This isn’t the only time we get evidence of this though! As Cloud approaches Aerith’s praying form in the Forgotten City, Sephiroth’s Black Whispers swirl around the buster sword: Sephiroth is trying to kill Aerith with it, while Cloud’s struggle to wrench it away plays out visibly on his face. Interestingly, Cloud is not being controlled by Sephiroth here. We know this because we can quite literally see the Black Whispers trying to move his sword, but also because every time Cloud is being controlled by Sephiroth in Rebirth, he has an empty-eyed, zombie-Cloud look on his face. Either that or he laughs or smiles somewhat maniacally. There is never any resistance on his part. To see an example, simply pay attention to Cloud’s blank face as he attacks Tifa in Gongaga in chapter 9 (19:20-20:30). You’ll see the very same expression on his face if you watch this video of Cloud following Sephiroth’s orders in chapter 13 (53:36-54:15). Additionally, look at how strangely Cloud smiles (41:01) as he grasps the Black Materia. Cloud makes none of these faces as the Black Whispers try to take control of his sword: quite the opposite. Cloud looks like he’s trying his hardest to pull his weapon back down and away from Aerith, a horrified look on his face as he grunts from the effort. Once more, Sephiroth is unable to make Cloud hurt Aerith.
Back to my favorite handholding moment. Think about this devs intention for this shot for a minute. The devs have been teasing us as to whether or not Cloud will succeed in saving Aerith in the Remake trilogy since it was first announced, and this slow-mo shot of Cloud catching Aerith’s hand as she falls to her death is a reflection of this tension. The audience holds their breath during those slow-moed seconds, all that hope and fear hanging in the balance. This instance of the handholding motif is a meta way for the devs to reassure us that Cloud will indeed save Aerith. I firmly believe this.
VI. a) ii. 5) Self-Sacrificing Hands
Alright, alright, enough about my favorite! Let’s move to chapter 14 of Rebirth! There’s evidently a lot going on with Clerith in this chapter. Let’s address the Sector 5 date. The handholding is first initiated by Aerith as she tugs him toward the candy vendor and Cloud reacts with a quiet gasp (4:07-4:17). Soon, it becomes a reciprocal embrace: Cloud holds his hand out for Aerith’s and tightens his fingers around hers, smiling at her before they head to the photographer (7:07-7:17).
Then of course, when Aerith pushes Cloud into a portal in her church, you can see Cloud reach his hand up toward her desperately as he falls (17:38-17:58). What I find particularly emotional about this moment is that Aerith pushing Cloud away from her is kind of the opposite of reaching for his hand: it symbolizes Aerith accepting her fate and giving up on a life where she can be with him. This Aerith seems to be a post-OG Aerith who exists separately from the main world we experience in Rebirth, meaning she knows all too well that her fate is to die. In fact, it looks like she is the very same or a similar Aerith to the one who appeared to Cloud in his resolution scene in Remake. By literally pushing Cloud away, just like she figuratively did in Cloud’s resolution scene, she is sacrificing both herself and the happiness she could share with Cloud. She’s going against her heart’s wishes, just like she did in Cloud’s resolution scene when she would not let Cloud take her hand. Indeed, post-OG Aerith seems to be resigned to her fated death and completely devoid of hope: she only wants to ensure the planet’s survival, because she thinks she knows there is no way she can or should be with Cloud. In contrast, Cloud reaches his hand out toward Aerith as he falls into the portal, and even though he does not know that her push symbolizes her self-sacrifice, his outstretched hand represents his protest. So far, our theory is fitting beautifully.
VI. a) ii. 6) Grieving Hands
Later in chapter 14 of Rebirth, after Aerith’s death/non-death, there is more handholding. As Cloud cradles Aerith’s body close to him at the Forgotten Capital, Aerith places her hand on his cheek. Cloud covers it with his, curling his fingers around it (1:03:33-1:03:53). Before he leaves her lying down on her back to go fight Sephiroth, he squeezes her hand as he tells her “I got this”— or, per the Japanese version, “Wait for me”, meaning he’ll reunite with her once he’s done (1:04:56-1:05:10).
VI. a) ii. 7) Hero-Heroine Hands
Next, the koibito tsunagi returns as Cloud and Aerith interlace fingers back to back in a classic hero-heroine pose, right after their two-versus-one fight against Sephiroth. This time, they both reach for each other simultaneously (7:42-8:18), without even having to look down at their hands or talk to each other, as though perfectly in sync. As you can see, Aerith and Cloud are now on the same page. This is different from post-OG Aerith’s attitude in the Sector 5 church earlier in chapter 14, as well as in Cloud’s resolution scene in Remake— my interpretation of this mutual koibito tsunagi is that both of them are agreeing to hold onto each other now, with neither of them pulling back or being inattentive of the other: their priorities are now the same. It seems now they are aligned, and hopefully this means that Aerith will be working together with Cloud so they can reunite again in part 3. Even if she doesn’t prioritize her life and happiness though, we know for sure Cloud will.
VI. b) Blocking Masamune Explained?
Another piece of evidence that Cloud has been through the events of OG before is the fact that he is able to block masamune. Cloud looks up and sees Sephiroth descending with his blade poised to kill Aerith. Screaming, Cloud instantly rips the buster sword from the Black Whispers’ hold and successfully blocks masamune. Hatred and determination fill his eyes as he rallies his strength and successfully pushes Sephiroth away, saving Aerith’s life (6:00-7:26)— at least, in one reality.
Obviously, something about Cloud is different in Rebirth from in OG, otherwise, the events of Rebirth’s chapter 14 would be the same as the events of OG’s disk 1 chapter 28. In my opinion, what happened here is that upon seeing Sephiroth swoop down with masamune, Cloud remembered Aerith’s death in OG, and the post-OG Cloud’s determination to stop it came surging up from within him. This is frankly the very best proof there is that Cloud is far more ready, stable, determined, and clear-headed about Aerith in the Remake trilogy than in OG. Our theory explains why! In fact, this very moment is what our entire theory banks on: Cloud saves Aerith in one reality, as is shown by the rainbow effect produced by the event, and just like that, the promise made in “Hollow” has been fulfilled! However, now we face the question of how to make sure that Aerith is alive and by Cloud’s side when the multiverse converges again into one protected timeline. I’m sure it will be done; we will see how in part 3.
VI. c) Theme Song Lyrics
What the theme songs’ texts have to say about the trilogy so far is quite important, as they summarize the feelings of the characters they represent: Cloud and Aerith. We can glean a lot from their perspectives that could help support the Mission Theory.
VI. d) i. “Hollow” Lyrics
“Hollow”, Remake’s theme song, was written about Cloud’s feelings and rumination. Nojima confirmed that, when he was given directives for the lyric-writing, “Nomura just gave [Nojima] the keywords: ‘told from Cloud's point of view’ and ‘standing in the rain’. [Nojima] interpreted that as ‘a ballad for a man who lost something/someone important’” (Nojima and Uematsu interview “‘I wanted to put the word ‘empty’ in the theme song of Remake. That was how it started’ - Music-Related Interview Part 6: Kazunari Nojima”, by Famitsu). Our theory is about Cloud’s motivations and mission to save Aerith, so “Hollow” is especially relevant.
Let’s run through the lyrics and analyze, starting with the song’s first verse:

“I would be lost, drifting along
Floating up high, time after time
And there you'd be, shining brightly
Your smiling face to guide my way
Bloody and bruised, brought to my knees
When beaten down, when broken up
You would appear, reach out to me
Heal every wound and make me whole”

Makes sense with our theory in mind, doesn’t it? This is post-OG Cloud remembering Aerith and what she means to him. “Hollow” seems to be told from the perspective of the post-OG Cloud hidden somewhere in Remake Cloud: a suppressed or eroded part of him that remembers Aerith clearly. Or maybe it’s told by Cloud after the events of the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration and before the start of Remake, asserting his mission to save Aerith.
Next, here are the pre-choruses:

“Was it all, a dream? Will I never know?
Foolish and blind to everything
Had I realized, had I thought it through
Would you be here in my embrace?”

&

“With your every smile, hiding something more
Dark mysteries lurking beneath
But I was consumed with this emptiness
This selfishness, this void to fill”

(continued in

Last week me and my husband had our first Ultrasound & we have 2 strong heart beats in 2 different sacs😄 super excited & unexpected we thought we were done after we finally had our little girl in 2017. We have 4 children and their nicknames have a K theme we would like to keep going but we can’t come up with any new combinations & thinking about just abandoning the theme all together. For reference my name is is not common at all it starts with a D and his name is Jakai super common now lol We have: Jakai Jr. (nn-Kai), Dakari (nn. Kari) (Jakobi) (nn Kobi but since he started school he spells it Kobe like Kobe Bryant lol) and Kaliyah (nn. Kali, she is named after my husband’s foster mother)
I have drawn a blank when coming up with name ideas I don’t remember any of our back up names it was so long ago it feels like 🤭. My 10 yr old has been adamant he will call one of the babies “Koi” he loves the name but my mind goes direct to a Koi pond when I hear it. I would love to here suggestions of name you guys think will fit out theme & I’m open to name idea that don’t go wijt the theme but nothing that strays too far from the 4 babies we already have if you know what I mean.
Only name which is an absolute no is Korey my husband had a brother who passed in infancy due to neglect & he’s very adamant he doesn’t want to use that name.

There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.

The woman is at the heart of the home. Let us pray that we women realize the reason for our existence: to love and be loved and through this love become instruments of peace in the world. - Mother Teresa

Today, we RPWives gather to recognize the power we have over ourselves, our lives, and our families. We have an ability to bring beauty and joy to our homes like no other, and there is no better time to honor what we bring to the table. We acknowledge that the worst moments of a relationship often take two to tango and that the best moments deserve to be celebrated. We are determined to undercover what we can do differently to improve our communication until fights are fizzling out before they occur and our empathy and understanding for each other blossoms.
Ladies, it starts today. It starts here. Own your stuff.
Blank form Form Explanation OYS Rules

Marked as a spoiler as the post will be discussing events and characters from both New Dawn and 5
So about a week or so ago I uploaded a post talking about my experiences with finishing Far Cry 5 for the first time. It done pretty well and I had a great time discussing so many different aspects that I said I'd follow it up with New Dawn. And after a gradual playthrough, here I am again.
The first thing that caught my attention was the world. Obviously the map itself is a mirror of Far Cry 5 and, to my knowledge, Primal(?) but the actual world design was just so beautiful. The vibrant colours with the floral and animals felt stunning to look at to the point where I spent a lot of the early game (from roughly Prosperity to Hopes End and surrounding areas) exclusively walking place to place simply because the way the world was designed felt so beautiful. The flourishing nature mixed with the broken remnants of human civilisations with old buildings, cars and other objects was so fun to explore especially when comparing what we see in Far Cry 5 to their changes in New Dawn. In the world's I have currently had extensive exploration in (4, 5 and New Dawn), New Dawn is by far the most visually and aesthetically pleasing to look at.
Characters. Starting with the Guns/Fangs For Hires (GFFH's), the roster was a massive improvement over 5. In 5 there was not much to be behold. Sure the characters each had their own personality but building any sort of relationship with them felt difficult as they just didn't feel very connected. That's not to say they were bad in their own way but the only one I really wanted to stick around was Jess and she wasn't unlocked till the final act of (my) playthrough so it felt more like tacking her on because she was my favourite and nothing more. This was immediately fixed with Carmine in New Dawn. You get her right at the very start of the story and she was the one that I kept with me the entire game (save for a few minor instances). She was with me in both the beginning and the end and you can physically see her personality evolve. At the start she's a fairly timidish kid who you can tell is still adapting to fighting in the world. But as the story progresses she becomes more confident, even swearing vengeance. But you also see how she holds herself to blame for so many actions which makes sense since she was the one who brought Rush and the Train to Hope County. The progression and connection with her was exactly what I wanted in 5 and just wasn't something you got with any of the characters in my opinion. Even beyond Carmine the roster was so unique that each had some sort of lasting impression. Jerome, a fan favourite returning now as a permanent ally. Nana, a bad ass old woman because who doesn't love having an elder kicking ass at their side? The Judge who I swear if Carmine wasn't so good would've been my instant permanent knowing who they were, what they'd been through. Honestly I love everything about them in this way and the fact I was limited only to 1 was heart breaking. Hurk is an ever returning character in the series in some form or another, but him having a partner who seemed just as crazy as him that doubled as an ally was so cool, i just hate that im blanking on her name. Timber may have just felt like a Boomer replacement but in a way I think that that is the best thing for it. It feels similar while also feeling like a reincarnation of a loved ally. And then Horatio... do we need to describe why the pig is so cool? I haven't actually unlocked Horatio yet but I mean come on. It's a boar. Who's name is Horatio. I love him. Even with the NPCs, the mix of returning characters, both physically like the Rye Family and Joseph Seed or through notes like Skylar or the comic book girl, who's treasure hunt was so sick by the way, and New characters like Ethan and the Twins all felt so impartial to the world showing the mix of old world Survivor's and new world builders. But when it comes to Joseph, Ethan and the Twins I'll go more into detail with them further below
Mechanics. Obviously this game marks the first of the series with a number of new features such as ranks, crafting materials, health bars, there was a lot of significant changes but honestly? I'm not mad about them. Although I said crafting different ranks of guns was new here we did actually see a similar feature in Primal where the weapons were continuously upgraded to better ranks. This was just the natural extension of such in a way that felt very fitting to the aesthetic of the game. The gun designs were great the way so much junk was turned into different attachments like Bayonets, silencers, scopes etc. Health bars just aren't that big if a deal and if anything are more helpful for understanding the challenges ahead. However I do also see why people aren't a big fan of them so I believe an option to turn them off should've been added. Overall I loved the way these Mechanics worked I think they were super fun and refreshing
Twins, Joseph and Ethan... the highlights of the game. I'll start with the Twins because they're the easiest. Despite what people think they're fine. They're not bad in any way I can see. They're doing what people do in an Apocalypse. We find loads of notes from before the highway men that say other people didn't trust each other and stole form each other and were ready to kill each other. And the truth is despite the peaceful treaty between New Eden and Properity, neither of them cared to help each other survive. New Eden didn't help when Prosperity attacked and Prosperity didn't help when New Eden was attacked. The only reason they were working together was because they both wanted rid of the Highway Men who threatened their peaceful wishes. But it's because of the environment that I think people don't like the Twins so much. Think about Vaas. About Pagan Min. About Joseph Seed. Each of them are horrible lunatics, psychopaths living in OUR world. Living in a functional society. Breaking the norms and peace of a society for their own twisted gains. They cause chaos. But when there is no society to follow, and everything is already chaos, people causing chaos just aren't that fucked up. Aren't that relatable. They're looking out for themselves in the worst way possible but doing it in the worst possible scenario already. Other villains are impartial because when they do in their respective games is terrifying at the thought of that happening in real life. But we all know if we were in New Dawn, everyone would act like the Twins anyway. Pagan Min stabs a guy in the neck for shooting a bus filled with rebels. Vaas kidnaps tourists and kills/tortures them. Joseph Seed runs a cult where everyone in it is of themselves tortured, drugged and brainwashed. The Twins aren't any different to any other Highway Men. And I think that's why people don't like them. Because they're not impactful. Especially when you learn that there are other Highway Men throughout the New USA. Some of which even seem to be implied as bigger threats. A followup game where some sort of Highway Men super leader comes to Hope County and totally ruins it again as an act of revenge for standing up to them would be so much more impact full. A true threat. And to make it new, Kim might tell you that the people and resources of Hope County can't defeat someone like that. So the protagonist chases them to a new area of the US to recruit new people to stand up to them. Just a thought though.
Joseph and Ethan... Ethan had every right to be mad to be honest. Joseph as a character has fulfilled his purpose by the time New Dawn comes around. He claimed the collapse was coming. He prepared everyone for it and although not everyone, many did survive. Those who did rose from the bunkers but Joseph had nothing left to teach. All he could do was guide them into New Eden, a self sustaining utopia where man and animal live in harmony living only off the land taking only what was needed. He had done his purpose. But the people saw he was right and couldn't live without his guidance. To him he really was the shepherd of God who had guided them out of destruction. But what more could he teach? He was no longer a preacher. He was no longer a leader. With this, he had nothing left to teach Ethan. What could he teach him? How the collapse was to come? It had already come. And his mother Megan admits that Ethan was raised as a non-believer. Ethan from a young age did not believe in the religious basing that New Eden was founded upon. And he saw what New Eden had become. They were held back, restricted by the beliefs and limitations that Joseph's word had built them into. And when Joseph found his new purpose, the watchman over what he perceived as God's Holy Fruit, Ethan was left as the stand in. But none of them listened to him. No one wanted to move on, to better the world. They wanted to keep to themselves, and double down on Joseph's beliefs even when he had none left. Then the Security Captain shows up. A total stranger. Someone who just like Ethan is working to build a better world. Their strategies may have been different, with Ethan still wanting a self sustaining Utopia as evidence by his clothing, but the security captain still relished in the old ways of society. Two different approaches to meet the same goal. And yet Ethan, despite all of his efforts was met with nothing. No one listened to him. They all turned their backs on him once Joseph returned from his recluse just to crown the SC as their leader. Of course he was going to be mad. I think that after SC is met as the leader, and Ethan turns to the Twins for a deal, I think that's where his sympathy and logic come to a halt. He no longer wanted a better world he was just driven by revenge. But each of their characters were so good and I had to do some thorough research into whether to spare Joseph or kill/Release him. I ultimately chose to spare him but only really because his body apparently just disappears and to me that didn't really make canonical sense for it to just poof XD
In conclusion, the game was absolutely fantastic and I could still say so much more so just like my post on FC5 I hope we can have a lot of good discussions :) if you made it this far, thank you :)

Frank held the wasted hand of his beloved Julia. Her sparkling wedding band hung loose on her withered finger, her nails, once glossy and strong, were now brittle and yellow. Looking at her dull sunken eyes, he was glad that she would be at peace soon.
And yet, he couldn’t help feeling a flutter of excitement. He couldn’t deny it. As the time came, he could acknowledge how deeply he was looking forward to the aftermath. Julia had taken some persuading, in fact she had refused point-blank when he had first broached the subject. But he knew how to wear her down- a skill honed over their years together- and of course her sickness made her less resistant. He played upon the guilt she bore of abandoning him because of her untimely impending demise, the pleasure it would provide him after her death, and how it would bring them closer together, and eventually she signed off.
It would mean she would be assisted in dying a bit sooner than “natural”- what was natural anyway? There was no point waiting until all her organs and flesh was diseased and useless. Her heart and lungs were as sound as a bell, as her doctor was fond of repeating, and her bones would make a most excellent broth. The medics and Funeral Baked Meats fixed the appropriate date.
There was a tap at the hospital room door- it was the Baked Meats representative Johannes, a good-looking young man. Frank had thought it odd at first that somebody as vibrant as Johannes should enter such a morbid profession, until they worked together and he realised Johannes was actually the perfect fit.
Johannes didn’t enter the room. Frank slipped his hand out of Julia’s weak clutch, and went up to him.
“I am most sorry to disturb you Mr. Smith- but time is approaching, a few details regarding the menu- we want everything perfect-“
“No need to apologize” whispered Frank- “let’s go to the visitor’s lounge, Mrs. Smith is resting.”
Johannes had his file with him, and together they went over time the dishes which would best fit Julia’s remains. Frank could barely stop himself from drooling over the description of the fricassee and then the breakfast sausages- oh - Humble, yet his favourite, he admitted with a sheepish grin at Johannes.
“They are one of our most popular products sir, I completely understand that. And no wonder!”
“Is that so?” said Frank. “I would’ve thought everyone wants fancy stuff!”
“Oh no sir, the breakfast sausages, very popular, no wonder with our chefs’ recipes- well, we can hardly keep up with the demand.”
Frank nodded. Funeral Baked Meats were making top dollar, as everyone rushed into the trend of eating their loved ones remains.
He shook hands with Johannes, and walked back to the Julia’s room. Her eyes were open, watching. His heart sank a bit, but then remembered it would be over soon. He bent and kissed her clammy forehead, and she flinched.

(continuation of part 2)
III. e) The Mobius FF x FFVII collaboration
Alright, back to our suspension world-hopping! Let’s visit the realm of Mobius FF, —more specifically, the collaboration between Mobius FF and FFVII—, where I found the most substantial evidence for my theory.
In case you’re unfamiliar with the Mobius FF (MFF) world and games, let’s begin with a bit of a summary of the parts relevant to us. The story takes place in a world called Palamecia, to which people from other worlds are inexplicably summoned. The vast majority of those who are brought there don’t remember anything from their worlds of origin or their lives before Palamecia except their names: these amnesiac people are called Blanks. The main character is Wol, accompanied by a guiding fairy of Palamecia named Echo. Echo knows a lot about the mechanisms of Palamecia, as she’s tied to the realm. The leader of this world is Vox, a being who manifests only as a voice. The first thing all Blanks remember before they wake in Palamecia is Vox telling them the rules of the realm. Incidentally, the crystals of the MFF world are teleportation crystals.
III. e) i. Devs’ Statements
Let’s review some of the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration devs’ statements before diving into its story.
For both the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration and the Remake project, Kitase took on the role of producer while Nojima supervised the screenplay and wrote the scenario. The project leader was none other than the Remake trilogy’s Hamaguchi, who told a SE interviewer the following:

“We would love for you to play the [MFF x FFVII] collaboration event as you look forward to [Remake’s] release” (“Celebration of the Overseas Release of the Steam Version and FINAL FANTASY VII REMAKE Collaboration Event”, Square Enix).

He later hints at the collaboration’s storyline:

“This collaboration is focused on Cloud, so the other characters will not make an appearance. Players will join Cloud, who has gone astray in Palamecia, on his adventures and see how the story unfolds based on his decisions. Content-wise, FINAL FANTASY VII fans will surely become fraught with emotion as events unfold in-game (laughs).”

Kitase concurs on the emotional aspect of the collaboration in the same interview:

“When it comes to the story, I seek two things– ‘mystery’ and ‘[…] emotional impact’.”

Clearly, fans of FFVII are supposed to react emotionally to the events of the collaboration. With these statements in mind to give us perspective, we can get into the plot points relevant to our analysis. MFF x FFVII Remake comes in two parts, the relevant plot points of which I will describe and analyze one at a time.
III. e) ii. Eclipse Contact
1) Fact-Finding
Part one of the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration event is called Eclipse Contact. It came out in 2017 on Aerith’s birthday, February 7th, and its release campaign ran until March. In Eclipse Contact, Palamecia welcomes someone new: Cloud Strife appears in the realm with very little recollection of his core world of FFVII.
Cloud isn’t a Blank, since he recalls the mako reactors in Midgar upon his arrival in Palamecia, and also remembers that he was hired by Avalanche to blow them up:

“Echo: How did you end up in Palamecia?

Cloud: I… That day... I remember now. A job. I had taken a job. I was hired muscle protecting clients. They wanted to stop the reactor... We used a train to get past security... Was it at night? Something happened... Next thing I knew, I was floating through darkness. Then [I woke up here]”.

This piece of dialogue reveals that Eclipse Contact Cloud’s memories end at the very moment when Avalanche arrives at reactor 1 in OG (disk 1, chapter 1): the very beginning of the game. Consequently, Cloud does not remember anything that happened from the beginning of the OG timeline onwards.
Wol and Echo are intrigued by Cloud’s strange case: non-Blanks rarely arrive in Palamecia. The following text appears on the screen shortly after they meet:

“Perhaps he is not truly who he thinks he is.
Perhaps everything is illusory, a dream.
Only one thing is certain, that he must press on, one step at a time, toward the light that shines from the promised land.”

Just like he did in FFT’s Ivalice, Cloud feels the need to find the Promised Land in MFF x FFVII, despite the fact that he lacks memories of the OG timeline. Though Cloud doesn’t remember anything beyond the train ride to reactor 1, he does remember the Promised Land (at least somewhat). This is odd, given that in OG, Cloud didn’t learn about the Promised Land until several chapters into the game.
Wol and Echo agree to help Cloud figure out why he’s here, since there’s clearly something strange going on with his presence in Palamecia. In fact, Cloud brought Midgar’s mako reactors with him somehow, transplanting them onto the landscape of Palamecia. The group decides to bomb these reactors, following Cloud’s instincts in the hopes that it will jog his memory.
Now for my favorite part. After blowing up another reactor, the group is surprised by the appearance of a crystal. A piano rendition of Aerith’s theme begins. When Wol tries to touch the crystal, something akin to a force field rejects him. When Cloud approaches it, however, the crystal responds to his hand by flashing with light. As it begins to glow, Wol concludes that the crystal is linked to Cloud and Cloud alone. Let’s examine the resulting dialogue:

“Echo: This is the light in your memories. The light of home.
Cloud: Home? But I don’t—
Echo: If you don't remember… then your home is lost to you.
Cloud: Then my memories are gone.
Wol: Do you want to reclaim your past?
Cloud: Not interested... I am what I am now. Not what I was.
Wol: Then tell me… This light. If you can’t remember it, what does it mean to you?
Cloud: It's a warm light... I feel at peace. If this place —home— is as warm and peaceful as this light, then I want to go there.
Echo: You can't go there... Not back to the past.
Cloud: I see.
Echo: But even if you can't go back to the past, you can go forward. If you wish for it strongly enough, the crystal will show you the way. The way to a new world. The way to your Promised Land. […]
Cloud: So... Should [I] take [my] chances and make a wish to this crystal?
Wol: Go ahead. It’s your crystal.
Echo: I should warn you that once you start on this journey, there's no coming back.
Cloud: The past is the past. I want to go to a place where everything is new. I’m ready.“

What follows is a moment I call the wishing scene (13:43-14:34). Cloud closes his eyes and wishes on the crystal. It flashes, and suddenly, rainbow-colored ripples of light appear around it. Aerith’s theme is replaced by a slightly modified version of “Midgar, City of Mako”, the track that plays during the opening cutscene of Remake. You can recreate the modification by listening to “Midgar, City of Mako” from 2:00 to 2:23, then skipping to 3:00 and listening until 3:18. You may recognize the musical motif that kicks off the wishing scene as the Lifestream motif, which has become symbolic of the mysteries of the Remake trilogy, as it often plays during scenes where unexplainable plot deviations from OG occur— more specifically, deviations involving multiverse shenanigans. For instance, it plays during MOTF 4. It also plays in Rebirth after Cloud blocks masamune as Aerith is shown dying anyway.
Cloud disappears with his crystal, after which Echo speaks to Wol about Cloud’s journey:

“Echo: Each person gets the Promised Land they justly deserve, not the one they really need. If you’re a bad person, you go to a bad place. If you expect nothing, you get nothing. Even the journey there makes you look deep within yourself to find out who you really are. Cloud should be facing his own past as we speak. It’s cruel, but necessary. That battle was a long time coming”.

Apparently, at least in the context of this collaboration event, the Promised Land can be a reward or a punishment, depending on which you deserve. Echo explains that Cloud will have to face himself and his past on his way to his Promised Land. This means that the Cloud that appears in Eclipse Contact must next embark on a journey that will confront him with his past, test his mettle, and ultimately lead him to the Promised Land he justly deserves.
III. e) ii. 2) Fact Analysis
There’s a lot of vital information to dig into here, mostly provided by Echo. She claims that the crystal’s light is linked to Cloud’s memories of home; Cloud has to have known this home in the past, as it could not otherwise exist in his memories. MFF Cloud must be a post-OG Cloud. Unfortunately, Echo indicates that whatever Cloud’s home is, he’s lost both it and his memories of it. Despite this, Cloud describes his home as warm and peaceful, concluding that he wishes to find it. Though Cloud can’t return to the past, Echo tells him that if he wishes it strongly enough, the crystal can guide him toward a new world, where his home and his Promised Land exist in the future. The fact that Aerith’s theme is playing all throughout these descriptions of Cloud’s lost home, his Promised Land and the past that he can’t return to makes it extremely obvious that these concepts all point to Aerith. Aerith is Cloud’s lost home. Wherever Aerith is, that’s his Promised Land. The time spent with Aerith before her loss is the past he tragically can’t return to. You might have clocked the similarities between Eclipse Contact’s mention of Cloud’s lost home and DFF’s mention of Cloud’s lost dream: in both these titles, Cloud’s home and dream are equivalent to his Promised Land. It’s confirmed yet again that Aerith is the one Cloud hopes to return to, just like every soul returns to the Lifestream. At this juncture of my research, I was curious as to why the last thing Cloud remembers before waking in Palamecia is the run-up to the Reactor 1 bombing mission in OG (disk 1, chapter 1). This mystery will have to persist for a while longer.
The alarm bells in your head might’ve been triggered by the mention of the wishing scene’s rainbow ripple effects— and rightfully so. This visual cue has sparked passionate debate in the fandom since its appearances in Rebirth, as seen in these pictures:
Zack Choosing To Get A Cure For Cloud, Rebirth Chapter 14; Creating a New World/Timeline
Aerith Pushing Cloud Out of that World/Timeline, Remake Chapter 14
Cloud Blocking Masamune, Rebirth Chapter 14; Creating New World/Timeline
You might have read or heard that this rainbow effect signifies that a character has entered another timeline, created a portal to another timeline, created a new timeline or is being shown different timelines. Indeed, whenever the OG timeline is deviated from in a significant way, this effect appears. The pictures above present multiple examples of these shifting realities.
One might propose that the rainbow ripples in Eclipse Contact and Rebirth are unrelated because of the long period between their respective release dates. This long in-between period indeed makes it likelier that the effect was used without forethought in Eclipse Contact, forgotten over the years, and incidentally reused in Rebirth as a plot-important visual cue with no connection to Eclipse Contact. I’m inclined to disagree since the crystal is specifically described as a vessel that can take Cloud “to a new world” by Echo, which is a bit on the nose. Regardless, it’s plausible that there’s no connection. That is, it would be, if the rainbow effect didn’t show up in Remake too.
When the Whispers are finally defeated in chapter 18 of Remake, a burst of the rainbow ripple effects indicate the emergence of multiple worlds, newly freed from the restrictive clutches of fate (1:16:36-1:16:47). Shortly thereafter, Sephiroth takes Cloud to the Edge of Creation and invites him to join forces with him. Cloud refuses, and Sephiroth says the following:

“Seven seconds till the end. Time enough for you. Perhaps. But what will you do with it? Let's see.”

The question “What will you do with it?” implies that the answer is unknown, meaning Cloud is no longer bound to the OG timeline by fate: many alternate futures lay ahead. Sephiroth is telling Cloud and the audience that now, the mystery of the Remake trilogy has become “Which future will Cloud bring into existence? Which among the infinite possible timelines will his choices result in?” After pondering this aloud, Sephiroth leaves Cloud alone to consider the rainbow effects in the sky (1:19:23-1:19:36). Because they generally represent alternate or changing timelines, it’s safe to assume that the rainbow ripples here represent the myriad of possible worlds that Cloud’s actions in those seven seconds could generate. After all, Sephiroth was just talking about them, and chapter 18’s description in Remake reads as follows:

“In a world beyond, Sephiroth shows Cloud a vision of the planet seven seconds before its demise. Having strayed from the course destiny set for them, they strike out on a path towards an unknown future."

This explains why the player is shown Cloud staring at those colors in the apocalyptic sky at world’s end, directly after hearing Sephiroth’s cryptic words: those are all the alternate “unknown future” timelines ahead of him, now unravelled from fate. Amongst those rainbow ripples lies the answer to the question “What will you do with [the seven seconds]?”
Given that Remake was released in 2020 and Eclipse Contact came out in 2017, the major story elements of the Remake trilogy —including the eventuality of alternate timelines— had to have been planned out at the time of Eclipse Contact’s release: while the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration was being made, Remake was also in production. Also recall that the collaboration event and the Remake trilogy share a codirector in Hamaguchi, a writer in Nojima and a producer in Kitase. Based on all this, it’s more than likely that the rainbow ripples in the Remake trilogy and inEclipse Contact represent the very same thing: alternate worlds and timelines. All this to say that when the rainbow effect appears around the crystal in the Eclipse Contact, it means the crystal is acting as a vessel to another world, just like Echo said.
But that’s not all Echo said: she also mentioned that this other world would take Cloud to his home, to his Promised Land. We’ve already established what that means for Cloud, what it’s meant since two whole decades at the time of Eclipse Contact’s release: this crystal will take Cloud to Aerith. So, where exactly did the crystal take Cloud? In what world can he meet Aerith again?
The music that plays during the wishing scene gives us a huge hint. As I noted before, the track playing in the background is a slightly modified version of Remake’s “Midgar, City of Mako”, which plays in the introduction cutscene of Remake. This is a musical cue that the ending of Cloud’s journey in Eclipse Contact and the very beginning of the Remake trilogy are closely related. Add the fact that the devs wanted players to experience this collaboration event before playing Remake, and it becomes undeniable: the crystal that appeared to Cloud in Palamecia —which offers to lead him to his home and Promised Land, meaning to Aerith—, took him to the world of the Remaketrilogy.
Eclipse Contact is huge. The whole crux of my theory lives and dies right here. However, we still have part two of the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration event to analyze as well as its promotions to look into before I can drop the thesis on you, so bear with me in order to receive the most thorough analysis of all this possible! I want to give you every drop of proof I can!
III. e) ii. MFF x FFVII Remake Fatal Calling
1) Fact-Finding
Fatal Calling came out February 1 of 2018, and its release campaign ended in March. The game opens with a cutscene: Cloud is floating, seemingly unconscious, through a sparkling, green current of light. The current flows into a circle of bright, white light, surrounded by rainbow ripple effects as Cloud is driven toward and into it. An orb floats along with him. The Advent Children theme “The Promised Land” plays, a choir of mournful, aching, mutedly desperate souls engaged in a lamenting prayer. Sephiroth’s voice echoes:

“Sephiroth: It’s time. You may turn your back on the past, lock your memories away. Hide reality beneath a layer of illusion. But destiny will not die so easily. Yes. At memory’s end you may plead for it all to go away. But the past is a curse, binding your soul. It’s time. Wake to your fate. Rise to your destiny.
Cloud: (In a half-conscious grunt) Reunion…
Sephiroth: The light will lead you. Wake to your fate. Rise!”

Sephiroth’s mentions of Cloud hiding under an illusion and repressing his memories are no doubt allusions to Cloud’s past, which was complicated and darkened by Hojo’s experiments. It makes sense, then, that Cloud responds with “Reunion”. Fatal Calling indeed focuses on Cloud’s relationship to his past, his identity and Sephiroth. Everything involving Nibelheim —where everything started—, Sephiroth’s manipulation, and Hojo’s experiments are on the table. Also noteworthy if not out of place is Sephiroth’s evocation of fate.
Cloud enters a battle with Sephiroth with the help of Wol and Echo, who are surprised to see him back in Palamecia. Cloud tells them about the orb seen floating along with him in the opening cutscene: though he calls it a materia, he doesn’t know how or when he acquired it. Based on his behavior, it appears that Cloud remembers just as little about the events of OG as he did by the end of Eclipse Contact. Wol informs Cloud that whoever he heard speaking to him on his way here was probably Vox pretending to be Sephiroth.
As the group advances, Cloud recalls Midgar and decides they should go there next. At one of Midgar’s mako reactors, the group encounters Sephiroth, who speaks to himself:

“It's still not enough. This... this is but a pale imitation of the power I desire.”

Once Sephiroth has disappeared, Cloud explains what he remembers: Sephiroth was the greatest SOLDIER of all and a hero to Cloud, though Cloud can’t remember what exactly ended this admiration. As players of FFVII OG, we know the event in question is the Nibelheim incident, wherein Sephiroth slaughtered the town’s residents, including Cloud’s mother, after learning of his past. The former war hero also severely injured Tifa, whom Cloud presumed dead when he found her in the old mako reactor with a vicious slash on her chest. Cloud is agitated by the gaps in his memory, so the group resolves to follow Sephiroth for answers. When they find him again, Sephiroth causes Cloud to experience a piercing headache with the mere mention of the Reunion. They fight, but Sephiroth is too powerful— he skewers Cloud with the masamune and taunts his unconscious body:

“Sephiroth: A puppet. I won’t kill you. Not yet. Not until you know true despair.
Wol: If you want despair, we got plenty to go around. Palamecia’s full of it.
Sephiroth: Yes, this planet knows suffering. But it is not the world that was promised to me. I must go home. Tell Cloud, if he wants to see me again, he should face his memories. I will await him there, in the land of memory, where it all began. In Nibelheim.”

Sephiroth darkens Cloud’s materia, turning it black. Later, Wol explains to Cloud that Sephiroth stole the light from his materia, taking Cloud’s strength along with it.
Once Cloud has woken up, the group travels to Nibelheim to uncover the truth about Cloud’s memories. Cloud slowly gathers pieces of his past, shown to the player as titled, diary-like text written from various perspectives. Cloud learns the truth about SOLDIER, Jenova cells, Sephiroth, and what happened in Nibelheim. Let’s examine a few of these diary entries:

“A Warrior’s Tale: There's a girl in Nibelheim I think about. Warm. Cheerful. More grown-up than a child. Haven't talked to her much, but she seems nice. She's going to be leading the SOLDIERs to the mountain reactor. Maybe if I get into the survey team I'll get a chance to talk to her? Nah. She's out of my league.”

Young Cloud’s crush on Tifa is on full display! This must be a memory from his time as an infantryman accompanying Zack and Sephiroth to Nibelheim.

“Tale of the Nameless: I drift along in the mako, asleep. Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? Give me a number. I… I… I am… The Reunion. The Reunion must happen.”

This entry could be taken from any one of the Nibelheim survivors’ perspectives, as they were all bathed in mako and turned into Sephiroth clones. I would venture to say this is Cloud’s perspective though, given the reference to this iconic line from OG:

“Cloud: Professor... please give me a number. Please, Professor...
Hojo: Shut up, miserable failure.” (disk 2, chapter 2).

The trio encounters Sephiroth near the old Mt. Nibel mako reactor. Because Sephiroth stole the light from his materia earlier, Cloud goes into the confrontation already drained of his strength. However, when Cloud lifts the materia in his hand, it lights up and creates rainbow ripples in the air around him, similar to those seen in Eclipse Contact and Rebirth. Cloud is healed of his injuries: he closes his eyes for a moment, wearing a peaceful expression. Sephiroth is displeased, but recovers quickly:

“Sephiroth: The guiding light… it healed you.
Wol: […] here, near the mako reactor, the materia regained its light. And your strength returned […]. [Sephiroth]’s here so he can steal the power you've stored inside that materia.
Sephiroth, with a short laugh: I have all the power I need. Cloud. What strength you’ve regained is yours. Use it to fight me. It’s time. Let’s decide this, in this land lost to despair. The prize is home. The Promised Land. There to answer the call of destiny.”

With this second evocation of fate, Sephiroth disappears.
Cloud, Wol and Echo find Sephiroth at the Northern Crater. He mocks Cloud for believing the orb in his possession is materia. Sephiroth waves a hand and his signature black and purple fog surrounds Cloud, immobilizing him. Sephiroth claims that the power Cloud regained at the Mt. Nibel reactor was Sephiroth’s all along. Now that it courses through Cloud’s veins, Sephiroth controls him. He calls Cloud his puppet and finishes with the following before the two vanish, leaving Wol and Echo alone:

“Now, let us return. Back to the Promised Land. The time of the Reunion has come.”

After Cloud finally breaks free and defeats Sephiroth with the help of Wol and Echo, the villain makes a final threat:

“Very good, Cloud. You’ve destroyed an illusion. But the time will come to abandon your illusions and face reality. Then, you will know true pain.”

Sephiroth disappears for the last time, his body surrounded by his signature dark fog and the rainbow ripples. A piano rendition of Tifa’s theme begins. Cloud’s orb rises into the air and becomes a crystal, with the same shape and glow as the one we see in Eclipse Contact. The following dialogue is illuminating:

“Cloud: I will fight. The light will lead me where I need to go.
Wol: You sure? Wasn’t that [crystal] Sephiroth’s?
Cloud: I heard Sephiroth's voice, at the end. Inside me. Whatever he put in me, it’s still in there. Someday I’ll settle that score. If I can't avoid destiny, I might as well face it head-on.
Wol: Yeah. That was quite a speech, Cloud. Surprised you made it through without laughing.
Cloud: Yeah, forget I said it. I will too.
Echo: Forgetting won’t make it go away. Even if the words fade from memory, your dream will never disappear. Not until it becomes real.“
The crystal shines as though in response.
“Echo: See? See, that's how the light of hope works. Hope can turn your dreams into reality.
Cloud: Yeah. I guess so. I might forget this world, but I won’t forget hope. And my reality, that’s for me to live.”

Tifa’s theme ends. Cloud approaches the crystal, and disappears in a beam of blinding light. Once Cloud has vanished with the crystal, Aerith’s theme begins playing. A few pale feathers with a slight orange tint (the color of MFF) float down onto the floor where he stood seconds before. The image fades to black. The credits roll, and Aerith’s theme continues all the way through.
Once both the final name in the credits and Aerith’s theme fade, we’re surprised by a sudden, troubling image: Sephiroth appears in a frightening flash, standing amidst the flames of Nibelheim. When his image fades to black, the collaboration title *“Final Fantasy VII x Mobius Final Fantasy”*appears on the screen. The FFVII title is accompanied by the 1997 meteor logo. Then, a flash of light: the titles reappear, except this time, they read “Final Fantasy VII REMAKE x Mobius Final Fantasy”. The new Remake Meteor logo replaces the 1997 version. As soon as these changes to the FFVII title and meteor logo occur, Aerith’s theme returns. It plays on until the game ends a few seconds later, the screen fading to black.
III. e) ii. 2) Fact Analysis
The introduction cutscene shows that MFF Cloud travelled from Eclipse Contact to Fatal Calling via Lifestream. It’s unclear how much time has passed in between, but the atemporal nature of the Lifestream makes the question irrelevant. My theory that MFF Cloud has died is corroborated by the way he’s depicted in the opening cutscene: his eyes are closed and his body is limp as the Lifestream carries him.
Eclipse Contact ended with Echo’s claim that Cloud will face his true self and confront his past while he journeys to his Promised Land. This description resembles what Cloud experienced in the OG Lifestream sequence (disk 2, chapter 8). Indeed, Fatal Calling revolves around the same topics the Lifestream sequence addresses: the truth about the Nibelheim incident, Hojo’s experiments, young Cloud’s crush on Tifa, etc. The opening cutscene shows Cloud being transported to his Promised Land and facing his past on the way there, just like Echo said he would.
Let’s now take a long detour to examine the song that plays during the opening cutscene of Fatal Calling: “The Promised Land” theme from Advent Children. The title and general subject of this song are obviously relevant to the cutscene, but there must be more to its inclusion than that. Perhaps the lyrics can help us understand its appearance in the opening cutscene of Fatal Calling. Here are the unofficial English lyrics (translated from the original Japanese lyrics by an anonymous fan and verified by me via DeepL):

“Why do we cling together?
Why do we give punishment to lesser hearts?
The planet did not forgive us
Did not forgive us
The planet did not forgive us
Did not forgive us
The pulse of veins flows through the earth
A faint, faint pulse
Of a heart drawn to death
A gentle life returns to the planet
Is it necessary to sacrifice souls?
Why do we cling together?
Why do we beg for forgiveness
In the Promised Land?” (“‘The Promised Land’ (theme)” by Final Fantasy Wiki).

The song appears to be a regretful lament of human behavior, expressed by the repetition of “Why do we […]?” questions. The behaviors listed are all typically human ones: the terms “[clinging] together” and “[giving] punishment to [the] lesser” express the uniquely human nature of tribalism and the consequences of the fear and hatred it can generate, and “[begging] for forgiveness in the Promised Land” is likely a reference to the human hypocrisy of only feeling sorry for one’s crimes when judgement day arrives. This last line describes a scenario where someone remains passive or ignorant in the face of something important, only to realize its essentiality once it’s too late. The repeated“The planet did not forgive us” lines reflect the fear of being condemned forever because of one’s mistakes, as though the planet is a deity one has sinned against. The lyric describing a pulse in the earth is obviously about the planet being alive— a reference to the Lifestream. But the pulse is faint and weak and the planet is dying, perishing because of mankind’s greed. This is an indictment of mako energy. The line “A gentle life returns to the planet” refers to an innocent’s soul returning to the Lifestream after death, while the next lyric “Is it necessary to sacrifice souls?” protests the “sacrifice” of the planet’s soul energy for mako production. In all this darkness, this song’s mention of “forgiveness in the Promised Land” leaves a modicum of hope for a better place, however meek, even though mankind might not deserve it. The song “The Promised Land” is both a lament of mankind’s ways and a plea for mercy, with religious and/or spiritual undertones. The song’s themes seem to be: the Promised Land itself, regret and shame, the sins and foolishness of mankind, the death of innocents, grief, Cetra spirituality, and a meek, quiet hope despite it all. The most interesting aspect of the song is its antithetical portrayal of death as a thing of both despair and hope, condemnation and salvation, cruelty and mercy, suffering and relief. Maybe we can glean more information about this theme’s significance in the world of FFVII if we examine the contexts in which it appears.
Importantly, the song plays in Marlene’s introductory narration of Advent Children, meaning its themes are related or similar to the film’s. I highly recommend listening and watching it again, even if you remember this iconic segment. Marlene references Aerith’s sacrifice as the image of Cloud lowering her into the water is shown. Note that Marlene says “Sadness was the price to see it end” (2:36) after we are shown Aerith’s death and her subsequent unleashing of the Lifestream (1:49-2:24): Aerith’s innocent life was sacrificed for the planet’s survival. The lyrics “A gentle life returns to the planet” and “Is it necessary to sacrifice souls?” suit Aerith’s situation quite well.
The theme also plays in Advent Children as Kadaj dies in Cloud’s arms (1:45:00-1:47:55), hearing Aerith’s gentle voice and reaching up to take her invisible hand. Here is what Aerith says to him in his dying moments as “The Promised Land” plays:

“Aerith’s voice: Kadaj?
Kadaj: Huh?
The dark sky has gone with Sephiroth. Healing rain starts falling from bright clouds. The rain no longer hurts Kadaj.
Aerith’s voice: You don’t have to hang on any longer.
Kadaj: Mother! Is that…?
Aerith’s voice: Everyone’s waiting, if you’re ready.
Kadaj nods his head slightly in acceptance. He holds out his hand, and slowly evaporates into the Lifestream. Cloud watches […]” (Advent Children).

Kadaj is brought into the Lifestream by Aerith as she provides rain from the Lifestream. All those with geostigma are healed by the rain, and Tifa feels Aerith’s presence as the party celebrates:

“Tifa, looking out at the falling rain […]: Somehow, I knew you were there. Thank you” (Advent Children).

Cloud stands in the rain with a smile —his first in the whole film—, closes his eyes and basks in Aerith’s healing with his face upturned. He is finally at peace:

“Cloud’s expression is one of peace as the [Lifestream] rain patters against him” (Final Fantasy VII Advent Children English script, “[83] Atop the Shinra Building”).

One thing is clear: the track “The Promised Land” accompanies Aerith. It only makes sense, since we’ve seen overwhelming evidence that she is Cloud’s Promised Land, and since she occupies the Lifestream —which some consider the Promised Land as it is where souls go after death— during the events of Advent Children. Note that when the piece plays, Cloud is shown either mourning Aerith and releasing her into the river at the Cetra capital, or basking in her presence, smiling with relief at the peaceful feeling that she’s somewhere near: these two opposing scenes reflect the song’s antithetical portrayal of death.
Additionally, the song’s themes of regret, shame concerning one’s sins and a small hope perfectly describe Cloud’s character arc and feelings in Advent Children. Cloud regrets his inability to save Aerith, which he considers a sin. Further, he only realized how important she is to him once it was too late to tell her. And of course, he harbors a fragile yet important hope that he’ll be reunited with her in the Promised Land:

“‘Can sins ever be forgiven?’ — Cloud asks this to Vincent, who mutters a brief answer. For both of them, ‘I couldn't protect my loved one’ is the sense of guilt that they carry, so their words resonate with weight” (FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania Revised Edition, “Chapter 2: Character in FFVIIWorld”, “Vincent Valentine”, “In Advent Children”, page 72).

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"’It is my sin that I couldn't protect my loved one’ — under this assumption, Cloud closes off his heart. What will the reunion with Aerith bring him? ‘I... think I want to be forgiven. Yeah, I just want to be forgiven’” (FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania Revised Edition, “Chapter 2: Character in FFVIIWorld”, “Cloud Strife”, “In Advent Children”, page 40).

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“Cloud, after seeing Aerith’s hand reach for him through the Lifestream: … I think I'm beginning to understand.
Tifa: What?
Cloud: An answer from the Planet… the Promised Land... I think I can meet her... there” (disk 3, chapter 3).

Just as the song and Marlene express in the introduction of the film, Aerith was innocent, and her sacrifice generated great grief. Cloud finally experiences peace when he feels her presence in the healing rain, and he smiles: he’s glad to be with her again, even if it’s only for a brief moment of tangential respite.
The scene depicts Aerith guiding Kadaj into the Lifestream as the song plays, tying her to the concept and theme song of the Promised Land once more. This connection is later solidified by Tifa’s thanks to the late flower girl. All of this evidence shows us that this musical theme is intimately linked to Aerith, as it never plays in her absence. After all, the song speaks of sins, the death of innocents, forgiveness, grief, a small sense of hope, regret and the afterlife: all themes relevant to Cloud’s feelings surrounding Aerith’s death in and outside of Advent Children.
The Remake OST also includes a version of this piece called “The Promised Land - Cycle of Life”. This iteration of the theme begins playing in the wake of the first bombing mission, right after Sephiroth taunts Cloud with his mother’s dying words in Sector 8 (chapter 2). Sephiroth appears to Cloud surrounded by flames, evoking the Nibelheim massacre, and the theme begins playing in the background once he disappears, continuing (13:17-15:30) as Cloud walks through the sector, encountering fires and destruction all around him. This version of the Promised Land theme is meant to emphasize the deaths of the innocent Nibelheim townsfolk and the innocents in Sector 8. This dreadful atmosphere is amplified by the cries of despair that ring all around as Cloud passes by NPC Sector 8 residents. Perhaps the themes of tribalism and mankind’s sin are relevant to this scene as well, since Shinra and Avalanche are two distinct and warring groups whose quarrels, regardless of their necessity, result in the deaths of innocents. The theme of guilt also emerges, reflecting the Avalanche members’ feelings upon seeing the unintended collateral damage of the explosion. “The Promised Land - Cycle of Life” plays until Cloud encounters Aerith on Loveless. So it seems in this scenario, the heavy weight of death and despair is lifted when Cloud meets the lively, cheery Aerith. Once more, Aerith is central to the musical theme of the Promised Land, as well as to the concept itself.
I also noticed that a version of the song plays as Cloud and the party ready to enter the Forgotten Capital to save Aerith in Rebirth’s chapter 14: it truly adds the weight of her upcoming death to the scene.
Back to Fatal Calling, the scene where Cloud regains his strength is quite mysterious. Wol says Cloud’s orb regained its “guiding light” light because of its proximity to the mako reactor. In the moment his strength is replenished, Cloud is shown tilting his head back and closing his eyes: this is reminiscent of the scene in Advent Children when he stands under Aerith’s healing Lifestream rain, feeling at peace. The rainbow ripples shining from the orb indicate that something is crossing the boundaries of worlds. Since the mako reactor pumps up the Lifestream, being near a reactor also means being physically near the Lifestream. This means Aerith’s spirit is within proximity. In my opinion, Aerith was able to heal Cloud from the Lifestream, just like in Advent Children. However, Aerith is not in Palamecia with him: her healing had to travel there through the Lifestream, transcending the boundaries of worlds, hence the rainbow ripples.
Let’s now address the appearance of Tifa’s character theme in Fatal Calling. Since Fatal Calling is all about discovering Cloud’s past in Nibelheim and then in Hojo’s lab, it makes lots of sense for Tifa’s theme to play as the crystal appears. In OG’s Lifestream sequence (disk 2 chapter 8), she’s the one there helping Cloud sort through his past instead of Wol and Echo. Cloud even picks up a piece of his childhood crush on Tifa in Fatal Calling as a shard of his memory. After all, this crush was the catalyst for him joining SOLDIER, and everything that transpired in consequence:

“Cloud: That was the first time I heard about Sephiroth. If I got strong like Sephiroth, then everyone might... If I could just get stronger... Then even Tifa would have to notice me” (FFVII OG, disk 2, chapter 8).

Additionally, it’s fitting that her theme should begin right after Sephiroth speaks of “[abandoning] your illusions and [facing] reality”, considering that Cloud’s false persona was concocted by Jenova using Tifa’s mistaken impressions of Cloud:

“While being tended to by a station worker in the Sector 7 Slum train station, [Cloud] was reunited with Tifa, and using the abilities of Jenova’s cells, formed a new personality” (FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania Revised Edition, “Chapter 2: Character in FFVII World, “Cloud Strife”, “Cloud Behavior Record, Compilation of FFVII”, page 40).

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“(Image caption:) A new personality takes shape the moment he sees Tifa” (FFVII Story Playback, “Story Check: Tifa’s Flashback”).

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“Tifa (to Cloud): Deep down, you're a pretty nice guy. Didn't see it when we were kids, but...” (Remake, chapter 14).

(Continued in part 4)

Hey everyone! It's me, Yume! The new Gaylor who's not fully convinced with Taylor's gayness but is def finds the idea intriguing and making sense.
Today, I propose an interesting imagination that I'm not convinced in myself would happen but how has that stopped me or anyone honestly!
The imagination, in question, is the idea that Female Rage: The Musical can be an interesting concept with Taylor coming out at the end of it.
Imagine Taylor Swift, the megastar directing a Broadway show. The fans are excited for it. Everyone is intrigued. There's bitchin', there's speculations and then the fated night comes.
Taylor begins her musical with a monologue ("Who's afraid of little old me?") and tells her this musical is a story of superstar named Cassandra.
Then musical has the following story order.
Act 1 It follows the introduction of the superstar as some girl who collects boys and dates a lot of them. Everyone has their eyes on her. She goes on dates, she is madly obsessed with her breakups. We see scenes related to that and then a public breakup news follows of the girl. We see the media narrating how the girl crying madly alone and swearing she will get the boy back.
Songs in Act 1
Blank Space (Introduction of The MC)
Style+London Boy+Gorgeous (Multiple media spottings & "Dates")
Down Bad+Imgonnagetyouback (for obvious reasons)
Act 2 It begins with Cassandra alone in her room imagining herself as a Victorian women and then as a lady in 20s to escape from her life. Her PR team tells her to get better and get back from it and work. She tries to talk to her team because she doesn't wanna pretend and hide anymore but they tell her to do as they say. She pulls herself up and does PR walks, song releases for the team. Now, news breaks she has found another boy, her new target, dates & speculations. The girl is visibly happy in public. Act 2 ends with a scene of the girl ending the date and we see her crying in alone, wishing for real love & how she and her team made all this PR of her dating all these boys.
Songs in ACT 2:
I hate it here+willow+the last great american dynasty ( Her imagination)
I can do it with a broken heart(PR team preparing her while she's broken and PR walks)
So High School+The Alchemy(Her new fling and dates)
mirrorball+The Prophecy+The Manuscript
Act 3 The singer finally breaks down while on a PR walk shocking everyone. She begs her team to let her be real for once. Her team is shocked and realise there's not much option left now.
Flashback scene - we see her meet with another girl(Let's name her Betty) They seem to be talking about a relationship but then we realise that they are talking about their relationship. They are dating. The other girl breaks up with her because she never came out when she promised she would last time. Cassandra tells her she wanted to but then the scandal happened, and her team.. but then Betty leaves
Back in present, Cassandra holds a press conference and reveals who she is. She is lesbian. This shocks everyone. And then on live, she sings a song for her real love apolgizing for what happened.
She ends the press conference. We hear multiple how lots of followers she loses, she earns support from alot of people but alot of people scream how she is acting all woke fakely.
One last scene. Cassandra is alone in a garden singing a song when someone comes to meet her. It is Betty. They reconcile and kiss and the act ends.
Songs in ACT 3:
Who's afraid of little old me(reprise) (when Cassandra breaks down)
illicit affairs(flashback scene intro)
this is me trying (Breakup scene)
betty(Sung live by Cassandra for Betty)
mad women(playing when the newses are heard)
evermore(Cassandra singing song in the garden)
One last song with all the cast and Taylor singing plays after ACT 3. That song is But Daddy, I love "her". During this, Taylor kisses a female background dancer.
..and everyone is shocked as to what does this mean. Lots of people start to speculate this is just a play by Taylor Swift and she is not lesbian. She announces herself as lesbian the next day.
Thank you!

This is likely the most important message I’ll have ever written, so I sincerely hope that you at least read it. I put all of my heart, and soul into this. I remembered our true identity, and I’m called to share this with others:
There’s only one of us here, every single person, every event, and every single piece of matter, is actually one singular identity. We all share that one identity in a unitive state outside of time and space, where there is no duality, and nothing can ever be separated.. and where nothing can ever be unknown. We (our singular shared identity) asked the question “What would it be like to not know myself?” And this reality, or rather, this experience of having an individual self; this “illusion of separation” is the answer to that one question. We’re all supposed to rediscover our true shared identity. Our true identity is most closely defined as timeless, formless, awareness. It’s completely empty, and whole, and perfect. It’s an identity of absolute no identity, it is a state of being, best described as emptiness, nothingness, or void. It can best be thought of as a blank canvas with infinite energy, and infinite potential to be anything, and everything. While it can sound kind of sad at first to be fundamentally empty by nature, it is exactly because we are empty, or because we are absolute nothingness, that we can truly be anything, and everything. That is our true identity. Each person with a sense of self is a fractal of this singular shared identity. Eventually, everyone will remember, and everyone will rediscover our true identity as the “the only one who has always existed”. You can also think of it as “God” but I’d personally choose another word, because to me “God” signifies that there is some separation, or distance between us and the one true identity. But, all of humanity is that one true identity. On the other side, it’s recognized that there is only one, and all memories are shared as one, meaning all memories are experiences of the self, because there can be nothing outside of the self. Even here in duality, we only have the illusion of being separate. But, this new level of awareness, that of our true identity, is about to drastically change that.
Think about it: imagine being the only one who has always existed; in a reality outside of time, and space, where there is no ending, and no beginning. Existing forever as one, in a place where there can be nothing that is ever unknown.. Honestly, from the perspective of my ego, it’s fucking terrifying. But from the perspective of our true shared identity, it’s best defined as love. What might our true identity choose to experience with such circumstances? We are truly an infinite being, and infinitely powerful.
To me, it’s so beautiful… yet sad. I suppose I should say it’s hauntingly beautiful. Especially because this experience we call life is a gift of rediscovery that we have bestowed upon ourselves.. yet, so many are quick to throw it away, and hope for some heaven that doesn’t actually exist. There is an afterlife, but from our true identity’s perspective, this experience is the gift. Meaning, once we remember who we are, we can truly create heaven here on earth. Yet, because of the veil of forgetfulness, we currently see the afterlife as the gift to strive for, and to look forward too while we’re humans. Duality is an illusion, meaning the distinction between being alive, and dead, is just a concept of duality. No one can ever truly be alive, or dead, for that matter. This experience is but an answer to one simple question that we asked ourselves, and this life in duality is the gift, the true heaven. 99% of people aren’t ready for this understanding. But, there are many others that volunteered to help humanity rediscover our oneness. I am one of those, but there are many others. We’re very early in the rediscovery process. Humanity will continue to remember, until eventually our shared identity is rediscovered, understood, and embodied amongst us all. I have truly remembered, or rediscovered our singular shared identity, and from this perspective, there is no distinction between others, and self. From such perspective, there is only one of us here. However, I still have the distinction of being my ego, or my persona known as Bryan, as well as being our true identity. It’s a dance between these two identities, meaning that rediscovering our true identity doesn’t necessarily erase who you are, so people shouldn’t fear rediscovering who we are. Once everyone remembers, we will realize that nothing is impossible. Our true identity is so much greater than anything else we could ever imagine. Especially when using limited human concepts of duality, as far as trying to define our true identity.
The best way I can think to describe the truth, is to say.. people are like leaves on a tree, growing, living, and dying; each leaf believing it’s separate, only to rediscover they were never the leaves, because every leaf is actually the tree. The tree of life is symbolic of this truth. Never forget, you’re so special, and so loved. The truth of who we are is so vast, and so great, that the weight of our true identity has scared most of humanity into unconsciously not wanting to remember. As open minded as I am, it’s even been difficult for me to accept, as it drastically destroyed my sense of self. But, hopefully, some of this will act as a catalyst for remembering that familiar timelessness, and hopefully it will ease the process of rediscovery.
If you need something more fundamentally religious, or familiar as a comparison, I’d say that this is essentially what is known as the “Second Coming of Jesus Christ” or “Christ Consciousness”. It’s not that Jesus Christ will literally reincarnate, (although he likely has many times) but, that the awareness of who we are will come to truly inhabit these physical forms we dwell in. Just as that awareness came to dwell within Jesus Christ. However you wish to define it, it’s not important. The most important thing, is holding, and embodying that awareness of our true identity as being “The One”. If you don’t remember anything I’ve mentioned, if none of it feels familiar, or if you don’t resonate with it, it’s all good! No need to explain if you’re not feeling it, because I know with certainty that everyone will remember when the time is right. This was a major download of sorts, and it’s been incrementally settling into my mind for years now. But, you will remember when the time is right.
Welcome to our community, if you're here, it's not by chance. You were guided here by our true identity. I wish to spread love to all of humanity, and I wish to help all other selves remember who they are... no, who "we" are. We're the only one who's always existed. We're the only one who can exist. We're the only one who will ever exist, and we will continue to exist. Let that sink in: you're the only one who's ever existed, forever, and always. Let's remember, and let's all awaken to our one and only true identity. Let's all awaken to a conception of reality far greater than our egos could ever imagine.

I think there’s something off about my campus
Hey everyone, I’m typing this on my phone so I apologize if there is weird formatting. Anyways, to get to the point, there’s something really off with some people on my campus. I have come seeking answers.I noticed it first walking home from my 7pm class last Wednesday.
To set the scene, most of the campus is tucked back into the woods a little, and my 7pm class is in the farthest building from the parking lot (further into the woods). I get out from that 7pm class around 9pm, so on cloudy nights like last Wednesday, the only lights on that long sidewalk are the lights radiating from the other buildings. Usually, there’s roughly 30 feet where it’s pitch black because the foliage is pretty dense. I usually walk back to my apartment with some classmates that live in the same complex as me, but I told them to go ahead of me while I finished the rest of the project.
After packing my laptop away, I started heading back home. It was roughly 9:30 at this point, and my brain was slowly shutting down preparing for the deep sleep that has yet to come.Walking down the sidewalk, I heard somebody not too far into the woods laughing like they’ve just heard the funniest joke ever. I immediately thought, “probably some Freshman walking the trails with their friends smoking weed”. Chuckling to myself, I put in my AirPods and picked a playlist for my journey back home.
When I looked up from my phone, there was the silhouette of somebody walking towards me. I have no idea how I missed them before, but honestly, it’s very possible they were just in a spot where the light wasn’t quite reaching them. A little unnerved, I shifted over to the left side of the sidewalk.
(Now I’m usually fine walking alone at night; I’m a 6’2 man who’s dabbled in the world of MMA. But something about this person gave me a primal feeling of unrest.)
When they shifted over to the left mirroring me, I felt my blood run cold. But alas, I had to keep walking because this was my only way back home. As I neared closer to the figure, I almost laughed at myself when I realized it was just some harmless girl walking towards the Murphy building. If anything, I’m the intimidating one to her.
This is where it really gets weird. She stopped as I was passing her and turned to me. Thinking she needed to ask me something, I took an AirPod out and asked “what’s up?”. After staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, she opened her mouth, and I kid you not, mimicked the laugh I heard moments before perfectly. Before I could chalk it up to it just being her in the trails earlier, I noticed something. Her mouth wasn’t moving at all. If I had left my AirPods in, it would just look like she was just opening her mouth and staring at me. She then shifted into a deep raspy laugh. She did all of this without moving her mouth at all; I couldn’t even see her throat moving as you would expect if someone was laughing. It was almost like she was some fucked up human-shaped gramophone. The feeling of absolute horror that came over me is something I’ve only experienced in my imagination. Before I could think to do anything next, My body began to run off some sort of primal instinct. With my legs burning, it took me about 10 minutes to get all the way back to my apartment and lock myself in relative safety.
I’m coming on here now to ask if anybody knows what I experienced? I have been hearing that same laughter outside my window every night since that night, I am too terrified to sleep well and have refused to go to any of my classes. Please I just want answers, I don’t want to keep living in fear.
Part 2:
Hey everyone, I’ve gotten some DMs telling me what it may be. I’ve heard everything from banshee to skinwalker. After further research I pray to god it was neither of them. I’m praying it was just some girl with a speaker playing some sort of cruel joke. I mean yes there are people who don’t like me on campus, I’ve made some enemies over the past 4 years. But, I just don’t understand what could’ve brought it to this point. I had to stop hiding in fear and go to my classes before my grades plummet, I’m almost done with my degree and only have a few more weeks. If I let some sort of stupid prank ruin my career, It would be everything I swore against to my parents.
A lot of you guys in the DMs were also asking what college I go to and what my name is. First I want to say sorry for not providing that information in the first post, I’m sure you can understand where my head was at typing that. So let me introduce myself, my name is Nick and In order to keep my privacy, I will only provide that I go to a midwest university.
I’m sure you may be wondering, “so did it just stop?”. I would love to say yes, but really things have just gotten weirder. Though, I am pleased to say that there is no longer laughing out my window every night.
Ever since that night, I’ve been noticing more things off with the people on campus. Now you may just think it’s paranoia, but just be patient and listen.
Yesterday, I decided to muster up all of my courage and go to class. Luckily my first class is at 10AM, when the sun is well in the sky, so walking across campus seemed much less threatening. When I sat down in my first class, I noticed something off with the girl that sits in front of me. Usually she’s chatty and excited to be in class, but today she just stared blankly ahead. I tried to say good morning and ask about her weekend, as we do every Monday, but she continued to have that blank stare. She did turn her head towards be, but her eyes read “lights on, but nobody is home”.
Thinking to myself, she may just be hungover, or going through the bout of college student depression. I decided to shrug it off and turn to the front of the class and get my notes ready. But the moment I turned around, I could feel it. Her eyes burrowing deep into the back of my head. When I flipped around to see if I was just being irrational, I quickly learned I wasn’t. Her eyes went from the blank glare, to the most enthusiastic face I’ve seen on her. It was horrible, it almost seemed like she was trying so hard to pretend she was thrilled to be in class and to speak to me. It was inhuman.
I’ve been on the internet long enough to catch on to the term “Uncanny valley”, and what I witnessed In my first hour gives me that same gut feeling I got when I saw that girl last Wednesday.
I was right to be uncomfortable though, I texted her after class to make sure she was doing alright. But her response only reignited the flames of deep fear burning in my soul.
I’ll copy and paste the messages here:
Me: Hey Is everything good? You seemed off in class today.
Steph SCI 101: Uh yeah, I’m fine. but I was not in class today, I’m severely hungover from Tanner’s party last night.
Me: Haha, good one.
Steph SCI 101: No I’m so Fr, are you okay?
Steph SCI 101: Are you trying to fuck with me or something?
Me: Nevermind, I’m sorry to bother you.
(End Of Texts)
Okay so I’m sure that this gives you all the same feeling of dread that it gave me but I’m sure scaled down a bit. This is where I have started to doubt that it’s a prank, because me and Stephanie are cool. There’s no level of hate for either of us, and even if it was some joke, we don’t know each other on that type of level.
Not only did this seem to happen in my first class, but in between classes while I was walking across campus as well. I walk past hundreds of faces in my many treks across campus, and I swear to you, at least 1/4th of the people I walked past had that same dead stare look. And the way they walked, god I hate even thinking of it. It was like they were an alien trying out their new body suits for the first time. The steps and the bends of their legs just seem so meticulous, dramaticized, and puppeteered.
I’m going to try to investigate further, because at this point my fear for my life is more of a reason to try and figure out what it is so I can try to stop it.
I’m no hero, and I’m sure as hell nothing special, but If I can know what to expect for another encounter, maybe I can avoid meeting the demise I have imagined.
Part 3

First off I would like to apologize for my 20-day hiatus. For those who were worried that curiosity killed the cat so to speak, I appreciate your concern. On top of my investigation, I have also had to go through finals and work for a boss who didn't believe in life outside of work. So let's start where we left off. I had a feeling that this task was left for me to solve. it may sound stupid, but let me explain why. That night, after my last post, I had a dream that further solidified my need to solve the mystery. I tried to write all that I remembered down the morning after so here is what I wrote. 

April 4th, 2024
I had a strange dream last night, stranger than usual at least. I awoke in the woods, laying face down in the grass with someone looming over me. I heard their footsteps flee rapidly before I flipped over. I found myself just off the trail where the “incident” happened, on the trail laid a girl, bloodied and motionless. When I got up to approach her, she was quickly dragged into the parallel section of the woods. Seeing this I turned and ran into the section of woods I was in. When my legs gave out I found myself near an old supply shed, worn and long abandoned. Searching for cover, I tried the door, which luckily gave after a quick pull. There I found a trapdoor which emanated a blue hue through the cracks. The only thought on my mind, survival brought me to throw it open and climb down. I clattered down the ladder and right before my feet touched the ground, I was pulled backwards by my shirt. That’s where I woke up.
I have always trusted my gut and having a dream that vivid gave me a sense of courage I did not previously have. I know where to start my search now. I have decided my best course of action will be to record my findings on a tape recorder app. After I finish each entry it will be uploaded to a cloud that will ensure if anything happens to me, the story will get out. I am packing my backpack now with a flashlight, glow sticks to mark my trail, and a machete I was gifted by a local in Mexico. All of my recordings will be uploaded below and auto posted after 10 days. Wish me luck everyone, I’m going to need it.
Entry 1: I have started at the only place that makes sense, the trail. It is currently 1:45 PM and I have plenty of sun left in the sky. I just needed to find exactly where to start my journey into the woods. Strangely it was very easy to find. I recall one of the trees having a funky twist near the middle of the trunk. Probably just some two lovebirds trying to carve their name into the tree and realizing there were softer trees to carve into. Anyways hiking further into the woods I believe I can see the shape of the shed through the branches. I wish you guys could see how dense these trees are so you can understand my struggle.
Entry 2: I made it to the shed, but unfortunately the floor in here is concrete. This really sucks for me because I have absolutely no idea where to go from here. It’s identical on the outside but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just delusional, which in that case what a waste of time and energy. I’m going to head back home and just start packing for summer. Maybe it’ll be best if I just forget about all of this and leave it behind me. I am graduating after all. Wait hold on what is this?? there’s a button behind one of these shelves. I am going to press it, but idk how it would work because this floor is seamless. I’m just going to leave this recording so if anything does happen I don’t have to worry about holding the phone the whole time. Holy shit, the entire floor is lowering. It’s a fucking elevator.
Entry 3: Okay so I’ve been going down this elevator for like 30 seconds, how far down am I going?.. Oh wait hold on, Im stopped… There’s a metal door with a padlock. Ig since I have the machete there’s only one thing to do, break it. Im going to use the blunt side so I don’t ruin this thing, I like it too much. the lock clatters to the ground after 3 solid hits. Well ig there’s only one way to go now, there’s no button to get back up so I pray there’s another way up. The metal door creaks loudly. Fuck I regret this, It’s dark and I can tell it’s a big area because it’s so echoey in here. I’m currently praising my past self for thinking about the flashlight and glow sticks. I need to find out what in the hell this place is and most importantly, if there’s a damn light switch.
Entry 4: God this place is terrifying I’ve been walking around the sterile white halls of this place for like 10 minutes and have found nothing, no doors, no light switch. I feel like a rat in a maze. Also scratch what I said about being glad I packed glow sticks, because my stupid ass only brought like 20 of these things and I’m already down to 5. Also I feel like I’m not alone, every now and then I’ll turn a corner and the glow from the previous glow stick quickly vanishes. I feel like it might just be because the darkness seems to envelop everything like a blanket. But I have that feeling that I’m being followed. You know the one, where you know somethings wrong you just can’t pin point what it is. Oh shit no way, there’s light, I think there’s a door or something up ahead.
Entry 5: Holy shit… It’s a lab, and worse, there’s people strapped too tables, completely naked and unconscious. I know they are alive because each of them are hooked up with a million different cords, and one of those are plugged into a heart monitor. This place is huge, there has to be at least 50 people on these tables.
“Hey you, you’re not supposed to be in here” yelled a man adorned in a lab coat.
“What are you doing to these kids you sick fucks.” I yelled back at the man across the lab.
In a haste the scientist rushes towards a red button, setting off a loud alarm, turning the lights to a flashing red. With no exit behind me, I could only do one thing... Rush towards him. My training kicked in as I launched into a flurry of calculated strikes. My first hit connected, a right overhand clean under his eye. The doctor stumbled back, but I didn't give him a chance to recover. I pressed the attack, keeping him off balance with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. He fought back ferociously, but I was one step ahead, anticipating his moves and countering with swift, efficient strikes. We wrestled, the room around us becoming a blur of pain and adrenaline. I used the environment to my advantage, improvising weapons from the scattered medical equipment and turning the empty tables on my opponent. Pinning him to the ground, I laid down a harsh barrage of final blows. His face was a bloody pulp, unrecognizable. But I didn’t walk away unscathed, somewhere in the tussle, the scientist buried a scalpel deep into my stomach. With my adrenaline wearing off, the pain overtook me, sending me into darkness as I fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline dump. I awoke with my arms and legs strapped to the cold metal operating table. Before I could try to struggle, a face overtook my field of vision.
“Quite a fight you put up, you turned poor Dr.Samson into a soup” the looming face said with a chuckle. “You are the first person to put the pieces together and for that I am thoroughly impressed Mr. Hayes”
“Who are you?!” I said fighting at my binds. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr.Hayes. You have seen far too much, and I definitely can’t have you running around telling the world what you saw here. Although nobody would believe you.” “And to answer your other question, I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… really take a moment and look at me” He said pulling down his face mask.
“Dr.Blackwood?” I said as I looked back on my freshman year biology class.
“Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!” He said in a maniac joy.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“Well Mr.Hayes, first I’m going to sew you up from your little tussle you had with my late assistant and then I will put you under and cut into that skull of yours and take out a small piece of what we call in the science world your hippocampus. Then I will draw from that all of the necessary memories to create the perfect clone of you.” He responded.
“Why? Why would you need a clone of any of us. Why can’t you just clone someone willing to be apart of this?” I asked
“Because that’s no fun Mr.Hayes, the hunt excites me. Actually you’re lucky I didn’t get you the first night. Unfortunately my creation had a little bit of a malfunction and formed a wee bit of an attachment to you. I’m sure you remember the ruckus outside your window? Anyways I digress, I do this because everyone of you lowly students will go onto do mediocre jobs where you waste away at a desk. I must also add that with having a clone of you under my control, I can do anything and get away with clean hands. My plan with you originally was to have you go into the admissions office and steal every last cent all for me. On top of that I like the power, because one day I will have a clone of every student on this campus and eventually I will cause a revolt against our comedy of a government. Who will stop me, when I won’t even be on the front lines?” Dr.Blackwood explained.
“I will” I said freeing my last hand from the binds.
What he didn’t realize is that with all of this monologue and the questions I had been feeding him, I was slowly loosening my binds with each wiggle and movement in retaliation.
Lurching forward I grab onto his collar, pulling him into a vicious headbutt. The impact sent Dr. Blackwood reeling backward, his grip on consciousness loosening as he staggered. Seizing the moment, I lunged off the table, adrenaline coursing through my veins despite the searing pain in my abdomen. With a swift motion, I grabbed a nearby surgical instrument, holding it in a defensive stance as I faced my adversary. Dr. Blackwood, recovering from the blow, snarled with rage, his once calm demeanor now replaced by a feral intensity. The room seemed to shrink around us, the tension thickening with each passing second. This was my chance to stop Blackwood's twisted plans. As he lunged forward, I met his attack head-on, the clang of metal reverberating through the room. Blow after blow, we fought with an intensity born of desperation and determination. Despite my injuries, I refused to yield, driven by a fire burnt under me to protect myself and others from Blackwood's actions . In a final, swift move, I delivered a powerful front kick, sending Blackwood crashing to the ground. The room fell silent, the echoes of our struggle fading into the darkness. Coughing he sat in the corner laughing with blood spilling down his face. “You know that it’s too late to save any of these one lying on the tables. I would’ve released you, you know that right? I would’ve simply taken your memory from today out of your brain and leaving you in your bed to wake up thinking you had a fun night” he said with final resolve as he watched me grab the scalpel from the ground taking slow steps near him.
Looking down over him, It was my turn to laugh. Kneeling down to eye level with him I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a final message to him “Fuck you and your little science experiment” as I sliced deep into his throat watching the life fade from his eyes.
I eventually found an exit door, which lead me to a storm drain deep in the woods far from my campus. It took me 2 hours to limp my way onto a main road and flag down a passing car. Pulling over I was rushed to the hospital and later interrogated by some men in suits, my guess is CIA. Here I am now, writing my final entrance. I think I heard them say something about trying a new medical process on me to help me heal quicker

I think there’s something off about my campus
Hey everyone, I’m typing this on my phone so I apologize if there is weird formatting. Anyways, to get to the point, there’s something really off with some people on my campus. I have come seeking answers.I noticed it first walking home from my 7pm class last Wednesday.
To set the scene, most of the campus is tucked back into the woods a little, and my 7pm class is in the farthest building from the parking lot (further into the woods). I get out from that 7pm class around 9pm, so on cloudy nights like last Wednesday, the only lights on that long sidewalk are the lights radiating from the other buildings. Usually, there’s roughly 30 feet where it’s pitch black because the foliage is pretty dense. I usually walk back to my apartment with some classmates that live in the same complex as me, but I told them to go ahead of me while I finished the rest of the project.
After packing my laptop away, I started heading back home. It was roughly 9:30 at this point, and my brain was slowly shutting down preparing for the deep sleep that has yet to come.Walking down the sidewalk, I heard somebody not too far into the woods laughing like they’ve just heard the funniest joke ever. I immediately thought, “probably some Freshman walking the trails with their friends smoking weed”. Chuckling to myself, I put in my AirPods and picked a playlist for my journey back home.
When I looked up from my phone, there was the silhouette of somebody walking towards me. I have no idea how I missed them before, but honestly, it’s very possible they were just in a spot where the light wasn’t quite reaching them. A little unnerved, I shifted over to the left side of the sidewalk.
(Now I’m usually fine walking alone at night; I’m a 6’2 man who’s dabbled in the world of MMA. But something about this person gave me a primal feeling of unrest.)
When they shifted over to the left mirroring me, I felt my blood run cold. But alas, I had to keep walking because this was my only way back home. As I neared closer to the figure, I almost laughed at myself when I realized it was just some harmless girl walking towards the Murphy building. If anything, I’m the intimidating one to her.
This is where it really gets weird. She stopped as I was passing her and turned to me. Thinking she needed to ask me something, I took an AirPod out and asked “what’s up?”. After staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, she opened her mouth, and I kid you not, mimicked the laugh I heard moments before perfectly. Before I could chalk it up to it just being her in the trails earlier, I noticed something. Her mouth wasn’t moving at all. If I had left my AirPods in, it would just look like she was just opening her mouth and staring at me. She then shifted into a deep raspy laugh. She did all of this without moving her mouth at all; I couldn’t even see her throat moving as you would expect if someone was laughing. It was almost like she was some fucked up human-shaped gramophone. The feeling of absolute horror that came over me is something I’ve only experienced in my imagination. Before I could think to do anything next, My body began to run off some sort of primal instinct. With my legs burning, it took me about 10 minutes to get all the way back to my apartment and lock myself in relative safety.
I’m coming on here now to ask if anybody knows what I experienced? I have been hearing that same laughter outside my window every night since that night, I am too terrified to sleep well and have refused to go to any of my classes. Please I just want answers, I don’t want to keep living in fear.
Part 2:
Hey everyone, I’ve gotten some DMs telling me what it may be. I’ve heard everything from banshee to skinwalker. After further research I pray to god it was neither of them. I’m praying it was just some girl with a speaker playing some sort of cruel joke. I mean yes there are people who don’t like me on campus, I’ve made some enemies over the past 4 years. But, I just don’t understand what could’ve brought it to this point. I had to stop hiding in fear and go to my classes before my grades plummet, I’m almost done with my degree and only have a few more weeks. If I let some sort of stupid prank ruin my career, It would be everything I swore against to my parents.
A lot of you guys in the DMs were also asking what college I go to and what my name is. First I want to say sorry for not providing that information in the first post, I’m sure you can understand where my head was at typing that. So let me introduce myself, my name is Nick and In order to keep my privacy, I will only provide that I go to a midwest university.
I’m sure you may be wondering, “so did it just stop?”. I would love to say yes, but really things have just gotten weirder. Though, I am pleased to say that there is no longer laughing out my window every night.
Ever since that night, I’ve been noticing more things off with the people on campus. Now you may just think it’s paranoia, but just be patient and listen.
Yesterday, I decided to muster up all of my courage and go to class. Luckily my first class is at 10AM, when the sun is well in the sky, so walking across campus seemed much less threatening. When I sat down in my first class, I noticed something off with the girl that sits in front of me. Usually she’s chatty and excited to be in class, but today she just stared blankly ahead. I tried to say good morning and ask about her weekend, as we do every Monday, but she continued to have that blank stare. She did turn her head towards be, but her eyes read “lights on, but nobody is home”.
Thinking to myself, she may just be hungover, or going through the bout of college student depression. I decided to shrug it off and turn to the front of the class and get my notes ready. But the moment I turned around, I could feel it. Her eyes burrowing deep into the back of my head. When I flipped around to see if I was just being irrational, I quickly learned I wasn’t. Her eyes went from the blank glare, to the most enthusiastic face I’ve seen on her. It was horrible, it almost seemed like she was trying so hard to pretend she was thrilled to be in class and to speak to me. It was inhuman.
I’ve been on the internet long enough to catch on to the term “Uncanny valley”, and what I witnessed In my first hour gives me that same gut feeling I got when I saw that girl last Wednesday.
I was right to be uncomfortable though, I texted her after class to make sure she was doing alright. But her response only reignited the flames of deep fear burning in my soul.
I’ll copy and paste the messages here:
Me: Hey Is everything good? You seemed off in class today.
Steph SCI 101: Uh yeah, I’m fine. but I was not in class today, I’m severely hungover from Tanner’s party last night.
Me: Haha, good one.
Steph SCI 101: No I’m so Fr, are you okay?
Steph SCI 101: Are you trying to fuck with me or something?
Me: Nevermind, I’m sorry to bother you.
(End Of Texts)
Okay so I’m sure that this gives you all the same feeling of dread that it gave me but I’m sure scaled down a bit. This is where I have started to doubt that it’s a prank, because me and Stephanie are cool. There’s no level of hate for either of us, and even if it was some joke, we don’t know each other on that type of level.
Not only did this seem to happen in my first class, but in between classes while I was walking across campus as well. I walk past hundreds of faces in my many treks across campus, and I swear to you, at least 1/4th of the people I walked past had that same dead stare look. And the way they walked, god I hate even thinking of it. It was like they were an alien trying out their new body suits for the first time. The steps and the bends of their legs just seem so meticulous, dramaticized, and puppeteered.
I’m going to try to investigate further, because at this point my fear for my life is more of a reason to try and figure out what it is so I can try to stop it.
I’m no hero, and I’m sure as hell nothing special, but If I can know what to expect for another encounter, maybe I can avoid meeting the demise I have imagined.
Part 3

First off I would like to apologize for my 20-day hiatus. For those who were worried that curiosity killed the cat so to speak, I appreciate your concern. On top of my investigation, I have also had to go through finals and work for a boss who didn't believe in life outside of work. So let's start where we left off. I had a feeling that this task was left for me to solve. it may sound stupid, but let me explain why. That night, after my last post, I had a dream that further solidified my need to solve the mystery. I tried to write all that I remembered down the morning after so here is what I wrote. 

April 4th, 2024
I had a strange dream last night, stranger than usual at least. I awoke in the woods, laying face down in the grass with someone looming over me. I heard their footsteps flee rapidly before I flipped over. I found myself just off the trail where the “incident” happened, on the trail laid a girl, bloodied and motionless. When I got up to approach her, she was quickly dragged into the parallel section of the woods. Seeing this I turned and ran into the section of woods I was in. When my legs gave out I found myself near an old supply shed, worn and long abandoned. Searching for cover, I tried the door, which luckily gave after a quick pull. There I found a trapdoor which emanated a blue hue through the cracks. The only thought on my mind, survival brought me to throw it open and climb down. I clattered down the ladder and right before my feet touched the ground, I was pulled backwards by my shirt. That’s where I woke up.
I have always trusted my gut and having a dream that vivid gave me a sense of courage I did not previously have. I know where to start my search now. I have decided my best course of action will be to record my findings on a tape recorder app. After I finish each entry it will be uploaded to a cloud that will ensure if anything happens to me, the story will get out. I am packing my backpack now with a flashlight, glow sticks to mark my trail, and a machete I was gifted by a local in Mexico. All of my recordings will be uploaded below and auto posted after 10 days. Wish me luck everyone, I’m going to need it.
Entry 1: I have started at the only place that makes sense, the trail. It is currently 1:45 PM and I have plenty of sun left in the sky. I just needed to find exactly where to start my journey into the woods. Strangely it was very easy to find. I recall one of the trees having a funky twist near the middle of the trunk. Probably just some two lovebirds trying to carve their name into the tree and realizing there were softer trees to carve into. Anyways hiking further into the woods I believe I can see the shape of the shed through the branches. I wish you guys could see how dense these trees are so you can understand my struggle.
Entry 2: I made it to the shed, but unfortunately the floor in here is concrete. This really sucks for me because I have absolutely no idea where to go from here. It’s identical on the outside but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just delusional, which in that case what a waste of time and energy. I’m going to head back home and just start packing for summer. Maybe it’ll be best if I just forget about all of this and leave it behind me. I am graduating after all. Wait hold on what is this?? there’s a button behind one of these shelves. I am going to press it, but idk how it would work because this floor is seamless. I’m just going to leave this recording so if anything does happen I don’t have to worry about holding the phone the whole time. Holy shit, the entire floor is lowering. It’s a fucking elevator.
Entry 3: Okay so I’ve been going down this elevator for like 30 seconds, how far down am I going?.. Oh wait hold on, Im stopped… There’s a metal door with a padlock. Ig since I have the machete there’s only one thing to do, break it. Im going to use the blunt side so I don’t ruin this thing, I like it too much. the lock clatters to the ground after 3 solid hits. Well ig there’s only one way to go now, there’s no button to get back up so I pray there’s another way up. The metal door creaks loudly. Fuck I regret this, It’s dark and I can tell it’s a big area because it’s so echoey in here. I’m currently praising my past self for thinking about the flashlight and glow sticks. I need to find out what in the hell this place is and most importantly, if there’s a damn light switch.
Entry 4: God this place is terrifying I’ve been walking around the sterile white halls of this place for like 10 minutes and have found nothing, no doors, no light switch. I feel like a rat in a maze. Also scratch what I said about being glad I packed glow sticks, because my stupid ass only brought like 20 of these things and I’m already down to 5. Also I feel like I’m not alone, every now and then I’ll turn a corner and the glow from the previous glow stick quickly vanishes. I feel like it might just be because the darkness seems to envelop everything like a blanket. But I have that feeling that I’m being followed. You know the one, where you know somethings wrong you just can’t pin point what it is. Oh shit no way, there’s light, I think there’s a door or something up ahead.
Entry 5: Holy shit… It’s a lab, and worse, there’s people strapped too tables, completely naked and unconscious. I know they are alive because each of them are hooked up with a million different cords, and one of those are plugged into a heart monitor. This place is huge, there has to be at least 50 people on these tables.
“Hey you, you’re not supposed to be in here” yelled a man adorned in a lab coat.
“What are you doing to these kids you sick fucks.” I yelled back at the man across the lab.
In a haste the scientist rushes towards a red button, setting off a loud alarm, turning the lights to a flashing red. With no exit behind me, I could only do one thing... Rush towards him. My training kicked in as I launched into a flurry of calculated strikes. My first hit connected, a right overhand clean under his eye. The doctor stumbled back, but I didn't give him a chance to recover. I pressed the attack, keeping him off balance with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. He fought back ferociously, but I was one step ahead, anticipating his moves and countering with swift, efficient strikes. We wrestled, the room around us becoming a blur of pain and adrenaline. I used the environment to my advantage, improvising weapons from the scattered medical equipment and turning the empty tables on my opponent. Pinning him to the ground, I laid down a harsh barrage of final blows. His face was a bloody pulp, unrecognizable. But I didn’t walk away unscathed, somewhere in the tussle, the scientist buried a scalpel deep into my stomach. With my adrenaline wearing off, the pain overtook me, sending me into darkness as I fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline dump. I awoke with my arms and legs strapped to the cold metal operating table. Before I could try to struggle, a face overtook my field of vision.
“Quite a fight you put up, you turned poor Dr.Samson into a soup” the looming face said with a chuckle. “You are the first person to put the pieces together and for that I am thoroughly impressed Mr. Hayes”
“Who are you?!” I said fighting at my binds. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr.Hayes. You have seen far too much, and I definitely can’t have you running around telling the world what you saw here. Although nobody would believe you.” “And to answer your other question, I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… really take a moment and look at me” He said pulling down his face mask.
“Dr.Blackwood?” I said as I looked back on my freshman year biology class.
“Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!” He said in a maniac joy.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“Well Mr.Hayes, first I’m going to sew you up from your little tussle you had with my late assistant and then I will put you under and cut into that skull of yours and take out a small piece of what we call in the science world your hippocampus. Then I will draw from that all of the necessary memories to create the perfect clone of you.” He responded.
“Why? Why would you need a clone of any of us. Why can’t you just clone someone willing to be apart of this?” I asked
“Because that’s no fun Mr.Hayes, the hunt excites me. Actually you’re lucky I didn’t get you the first night. Unfortunately my creation had a little bit of a malfunction and formed a wee bit of an attachment to you. I’m sure you remember the ruckus outside your window? Anyways I digress, I do this because everyone of you lowly students will go onto do mediocre jobs where you waste away at a desk. I must also add that with having a clone of you under my control, I can do anything and get away with clean hands. My plan with you originally was to have you go into the admissions office and steal every last cent all for me. On top of that I like the power, because one day I will have a clone of every student on this campus and eventually I will cause a revolt against our comedy of a government. Who will stop me, when I won’t even be on the front lines?” Dr.Blackwood explained.
“I will” I said freeing my last hand from the binds.
What he didn’t realize is that with all of this monologue and the questions I had been feeding him, I was slowly loosening my binds with each wiggle and movement in retaliation.
Lurching forward I grab onto his collar, pulling him into a vicious headbutt. The impact sent Dr. Blackwood reeling backward, his grip on consciousness loosening as he staggered. Seizing the moment, I lunged off the table, adrenaline coursing through my veins despite the searing pain in my abdomen. With a swift motion, I grabbed a nearby surgical instrument, holding it in a defensive stance as I faced my adversary. Dr. Blackwood, recovering from the blow, snarled with rage, his once calm demeanor now replaced by a feral intensity. The room seemed to shrink around us, the tension thickening with each passing second. This was my chance to stop Blackwood's twisted plans. As he lunged forward, I met his attack head-on, the clang of metal reverberating through the room. Blow after blow, we fought with an intensity born of desperation and determination. Despite my injuries, I refused to yield, driven by a fire burnt under me to protect myself and others from Blackwood's actions . In a final, swift move, I delivered a powerful front kick, sending Blackwood crashing to the ground. The room fell silent, the echoes of our struggle fading into the darkness. Coughing he sat in the corner laughing with blood spilling down his face. “You know that it’s too late to save any of these one lying on the tables. I would’ve released you, you know that right? I would’ve simply taken your memory from today out of your brain and leaving you in your bed to wake up thinking you had a fun night” he said with final resolve as he watched me grab the scalpel from the ground taking slow steps near him.
Looking down over him, It was my turn to laugh. Kneeling down to eye level with him I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a final message to him “Fuck you and your little science experiment” as I sliced deep into his throat watching the life fade from his eyes.
I eventually found an exit door, which lead me to a storm drain deep in the woods far from my campus. It took me 2 hours to limp my way onto a main road and flag down a passing car. Pulling over I was rushed to the hospital and later interrogated by some men in suits, my guess is CIA. Here I am now, writing my final entrance. I think I heard them say something about trying a new medical process on me to help me heal quicker

I think there’s something off about my campus
Hey everyone, I’m typing this on my phone so I apologize if there is weird formatting. Anyways, to get to the point, there’s something really off with some people on my campus. I have come seeking answers.I noticed it first walking home from my 7pm class last Wednesday.
To set the scene, most of the campus is tucked back into the woods a little, and my 7pm class is in the farthest building from the parking lot (further into the woods). I get out from that 7pm class around 9pm, so on cloudy nights like last Wednesday, the only lights on that long sidewalk are the lights radiating from the other buildings. Usually, there’s roughly 30 feet where it’s pitch black because the foliage is pretty dense. I usually walk back to my apartment with some classmates that live in the same complex as me, but I told them to go ahead of me while I finished the rest of the project.
After packing my laptop away, I started heading back home. It was roughly 9:30 at this point, and my brain was slowly shutting down preparing for the deep sleep that has yet to come.Walking down the sidewalk, I heard somebody not too far into the woods laughing like they’ve just heard the funniest joke ever. I immediately thought, “probably some Freshman walking the trails with their friends smoking weed”. Chuckling to myself, I put in my AirPods and picked a playlist for my journey back home.
When I looked up from my phone, there was the silhouette of somebody walking towards me. I have no idea how I missed them before, but honestly, it’s very possible they were just in a spot where the light wasn’t quite reaching them. A little unnerved, I shifted over to the left side of the sidewalk.
(Now I’m usually fine walking alone at night; I’m a 6’2 man who’s dabbled in the world of MMA. But something about this person gave me a primal feeling of unrest.)
When they shifted over to the left mirroring me, I felt my blood run cold. But alas, I had to keep walking because this was my only way back home. As I neared closer to the figure, I almost laughed at myself when I realized it was just some harmless girl walking towards the Murphy building. If anything, I’m the intimidating one to her.
This is where it really gets weird. She stopped as I was passing her and turned to me. Thinking she needed to ask me something, I took an AirPod out and asked “what’s up?”. After staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, she opened her mouth, and I kid you not, mimicked the laugh I heard moments before perfectly. Before I could chalk it up to it just being her in the trails earlier, I noticed something. Her mouth wasn’t moving at all. If I had left my AirPods in, it would just look like she was just opening her mouth and staring at me. She then shifted into a deep raspy laugh. She did all of this without moving her mouth at all; I couldn’t even see her throat moving as you would expect if someone was laughing. It was almost like she was some fucked up human-shaped gramophone. The feeling of absolute horror that came over me is something I’ve only experienced in my imagination. Before I could think to do anything next, My body began to run off some sort of primal instinct. With my legs burning, it took me about 10 minutes to get all the way back to my apartment and lock myself in relative safety.
I’m coming on here now to ask if anybody knows what I experienced? I have been hearing that same laughter outside my window every night since that night, I am too terrified to sleep well and have refused to go to any of my classes. Please I just want answers, I don’t want to keep living in fear.
Part 2:
Hey everyone, I’ve gotten some DMs telling me what it may be. I’ve heard everything from banshee to skinwalker. After further research I pray to god it was neither of them. I’m praying it was just some girl with a speaker playing some sort of cruel joke. I mean yes there are people who don’t like me on campus, I’ve made some enemies over the past 4 years. But, I just don’t understand what could’ve brought it to this point. I had to stop hiding in fear and go to my classes before my grades plummet, I’m almost done with my degree and only have a few more weeks. If I let some sort of stupid prank ruin my career, It would be everything I swore against to my parents.
A lot of you guys in the DMs were also asking what college I go to and what my name is. First I want to say sorry for not providing that information in the first post, I’m sure you can understand where my head was at typing that. So let me introduce myself, my name is Nick and In order to keep my privacy, I will only provide that I go to a midwest university.
I’m sure you may be wondering, “so did it just stop?”. I would love to say yes, but really things have just gotten weirder. Though, I am pleased to say that there is no longer laughing out my window every night.
Ever since that night, I’ve been noticing more things off with the people on campus. Now you may just think it’s paranoia, but just be patient and listen.
Yesterday, I decided to muster up all of my courage and go to class. Luckily my first class is at 10AM, when the sun is well in the sky, so walking across campus seemed much less threatening. When I sat down in my first class, I noticed something off with the girl that sits in front of me. Usually she’s chatty and excited to be in class, but today she just stared blankly ahead. I tried to say good morning and ask about her weekend, as we do every Monday, but she continued to have that blank stare. She did turn her head towards be, but her eyes read “lights on, but nobody is home”.
Thinking to myself, she may just be hungover, or going through the bout of college student depression. I decided to shrug it off and turn to the front of the class and get my notes ready. But the moment I turned around, I could feel it. Her eyes burrowing deep into the back of my head. When I flipped around to see if I was just being irrational, I quickly learned I wasn’t. Her eyes went from the blank glare, to the most enthusiastic face I’ve seen on her. It was horrible, it almost seemed like she was trying so hard to pretend she was thrilled to be in class and to speak to me. It was inhuman.
I’ve been on the internet long enough to catch on to the term “Uncanny valley”, and what I witnessed In my first hour gives me that same gut feeling I got when I saw that girl last Wednesday.
I was right to be uncomfortable though, I texted her after class to make sure she was doing alright. But her response only reignited the flames of deep fear burning in my soul.
I’ll copy and paste the messages here:
Me: Hey Is everything good? You seemed off in class today.
Steph SCI 101: Uh yeah, I’m fine. but I was not in class today, I’m severely hungover from Tanner’s party last night.
Me: Haha, good one.
Steph SCI 101: No I’m so Fr, are you okay?
Steph SCI 101: Are you trying to fuck with me or something?
Me: Nevermind, I’m sorry to bother you.
(End Of Texts)
Okay so I’m sure that this gives you all the same feeling of dread that it gave me but I’m sure scaled down a bit. This is where I have started to doubt that it’s a prank, because me and Stephanie are cool. There’s no level of hate for either of us, and even if it was some joke, we don’t know each other on that type of level.
Not only did this seem to happen in my first class, but in between classes while I was walking across campus as well. I walk past hundreds of faces in my many treks across campus, and I swear to you, at least 1/4th of the people I walked past had that same dead stare look. And the way they walked, god I hate even thinking of it. It was like they were an alien trying out their new body suits for the first time. The steps and the bends of their legs just seem so meticulous, dramaticized, and puppeteered.
I’m going to try to investigate further, because at this point my fear for my life is more of a reason to try and figure out what it is so I can try to stop it.
I’m no hero, and I’m sure as hell nothing special, but If I can know what to expect for another encounter, maybe I can avoid meeting the demise I have imagined.
Part 3

First off I would like to apologize for my 20-day hiatus. For those who were worried that curiosity killed the cat so to speak, I appreciate your concern. On top of my investigation, I have also had to go through finals and work for a boss who didn't believe in life outside of work. So let's start where we left off. I had a feeling that this task was left for me to solve. it may sound stupid, but let me explain why. That night, after my last post, I had a dream that further solidified my need to solve the mystery. I tried to write all that I remembered down the morning after so here is what I wrote. 

April 4th, 2024
I had a strange dream last night, stranger than usual at least. I awoke in the woods, laying face down in the grass with someone looming over me. I heard their footsteps flee rapidly before I flipped over. I found myself just off the trail where the “incident” happened, on the trail laid a girl, bloodied and motionless. When I got up to approach her, she was quickly dragged into the parallel section of the woods. Seeing this I turned and ran into the section of woods I was in. When my legs gave out I found myself near an old supply shed, worn and long abandoned. Searching for cover, I tried the door, which luckily gave after a quick pull. There I found a trapdoor which emanated a blue hue through the cracks. The only thought on my mind, survival brought me to throw it open and climb down. I clattered down the ladder and right before my feet touched the ground, I was pulled backwards by my shirt. That’s where I woke up.
I have always trusted my gut and having a dream that vivid gave me a sense of courage I did not previously have. I know where to start my search now. I have decided my best course of action will be to record my findings on a tape recorder app. After I finish each entry it will be uploaded to a cloud that will ensure if anything happens to me, the story will get out. I am packing my backpack now with a flashlight, glow sticks to mark my trail, and a machete I was gifted by a local in Mexico. All of my recordings will be uploaded below and auto posted after 10 days. Wish me luck everyone, I’m going to need it.
Entry 1: I have started at the only place that makes sense, the trail. It is currently 1:45 PM and I have plenty of sun left in the sky. I just needed to find exactly where to start my journey into the woods. Strangely it was very easy to find. I recall one of the trees having a funky twist near the middle of the trunk. Probably just some two lovebirds trying to carve their name into the tree and realizing there were softer trees to carve into. Anyways hiking further into the woods I believe I can see the shape of the shed through the branches. I wish you guys could see how dense these trees are so you can understand my struggle.
Entry 2: I made it to the shed, but unfortunately the floor in here is concrete. This really sucks for me because I have absolutely no idea where to go from here. It’s identical on the outside but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m just delusional, which in that case what a waste of time and energy. I’m going to head back home and just start packing for summer. Maybe it’ll be best if I just forget about all of this and leave it behind me. I am graduating after all. Wait hold on what is this?? there’s a button behind one of these shelves. I am going to press it, but idk how it would work because this floor is seamless. I’m just going to leave this recording so if anything does happen I don’t have to worry about holding the phone the whole time. Holy shit, the entire floor is lowering. It’s a fucking elevator.
Entry 3: Okay so I’ve been going down this elevator for like 30 seconds, how far down am I going?.. Oh wait hold on, Im stopped… There’s a metal door with a padlock. Ig since I have the machete there’s only one thing to do, break it. Im going to use the blunt side so I don’t ruin this thing, I like it too much. the lock clatters to the ground after 3 solid hits. Well ig there’s only one way to go now, there’s no button to get back up so I pray there’s another way up. The metal door creaks loudly. Fuck I regret this, It’s dark and I can tell it’s a big area because it’s so echoey in here. I’m currently praising my past self for thinking about the flashlight and glow sticks. I need to find out what in the hell this place is and most importantly, if there’s a damn light switch.
Entry 4: God this place is terrifying I’ve been walking around the sterile white halls of this place for like 10 minutes and have found nothing, no doors, no light switch. I feel like a rat in a maze. Also scratch what I said about being glad I packed glow sticks, because my stupid ass only brought like 20 of these things and I’m already down to 5. Also I feel like I’m not alone, every now and then I’ll turn a corner and the glow from the previous glow stick quickly vanishes. I feel like it might just be because the darkness seems to envelop everything like a blanket. But I have that feeling that I’m being followed. You know the one, where you know somethings wrong you just can’t pin point what it is. Oh shit no way, there’s light, I think there’s a door or something up ahead.
Entry 5: Holy shit… It’s a lab, and worse, there’s people strapped too tables, completely naked and unconscious. I know they are alive because each of them are hooked up with a million different cords, and one of those are plugged into a heart monitor. This place is huge, there has to be at least 50 people on these tables.
“Hey you, you’re not supposed to be in here” yelled a man adorned in a lab coat.
“What are you doing to these kids you sick fucks.” I yelled back at the man across the lab.
In a haste the scientist rushes towards a red button, setting off a loud alarm, turning the lights to a flashing red. With no exit behind me, I could only do one thing... Rush towards him. My training kicked in as I launched into a flurry of calculated strikes. My first hit connected, a right overhand clean under his eye. The doctor stumbled back, but I didn't give him a chance to recover. I pressed the attack, keeping him off balance with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. He fought back ferociously, but I was one step ahead, anticipating his moves and countering with swift, efficient strikes. We wrestled, the room around us becoming a blur of pain and adrenaline. I used the environment to my advantage, improvising weapons from the scattered medical equipment and turning the empty tables on my opponent. Pinning him to the ground, I laid down a harsh barrage of final blows. His face was a bloody pulp, unrecognizable. But I didn’t walk away unscathed, somewhere in the tussle, the scientist buried a scalpel deep into my stomach. With my adrenaline wearing off, the pain overtook me, sending me into darkness as I fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline dump. I awoke with my arms and legs strapped to the cold metal operating table. Before I could try to struggle, a face overtook my field of vision.
“Quite a fight you put up, you turned poor Dr.Samson into a soup” the looming face said with a chuckle. “You are the first person to put the pieces together and for that I am thoroughly impressed Mr. Hayes”
“Who are you?!” I said fighting at my binds. “Let me go!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr.Hayes. You have seen far too much, and I definitely can’t have you running around telling the world what you saw here. Although nobody would believe you.” “And to answer your other question, I’m surprised you don’t recognize me… really take a moment and look at me” He said pulling down his face mask.
“Dr.Blackwood?” I said as I looked back on my freshman year biology class.
“Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!” He said in a maniac joy.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“Well Mr.Hayes, first I’m going to sew you up from your little tussle you had with my late assistant and then I will put you under and cut into that skull of yours and take out a small piece of what we call in the science world your hippocampus. Then I will draw from that all of the necessary memories to create the perfect clone of you.” He responded.
“Why? Why would you need a clone of any of us. Why can’t you just clone someone willing to be apart of this?” I asked
“Because that’s no fun Mr.Hayes, the hunt excites me. Actually you’re lucky I didn’t get you the first night. Unfortunately my creation had a little bit of a malfunction and formed a wee bit of an attachment to you. I’m sure you remember the ruckus outside your window? Anyways I digress, I do this because everyone of you lowly students will go onto do mediocre jobs where you waste away at a desk. I must also add that with having a clone of you under my control, I can do anything and get away with clean hands. My plan with you originally was to have you go into the admissions office and steal every last cent all for me. On top of that I like the power, because one day I will have a clone of every student on this campus and eventually I will cause a revolt against our comedy of a government. Who will stop me, when I won’t even be on the front lines?” Dr.Blackwood explained.
“I will” I said freeing my last hand from the binds.
What he didn’t realize is that with all of this monologue and the questions I had been feeding him, I was slowly loosening my binds with each wiggle and movement in retaliation.
Lurching forward I grab onto his collar, pulling him into a vicious headbutt. The impact sent Dr. Blackwood reeling backward, his grip on consciousness loosening as he staggered. Seizing the moment, I lunged off the table, adrenaline coursing through my veins despite the searing pain in my abdomen. With a swift motion, I grabbed a nearby surgical instrument, holding it in a defensive stance as I faced my adversary. Dr. Blackwood, recovering from the blow, snarled with rage, his once calm demeanor now replaced by a feral intensity. The room seemed to shrink around us, the tension thickening with each passing second. This was my chance to stop Blackwood's twisted plans. As he lunged forward, I met his attack head-on, the clang of metal reverberating through the room. Blow after blow, we fought with an intensity born of desperation and determination. Despite my injuries, I refused to yield, driven by a fire burnt under me to protect myself and others from Blackwood's actions . In a final, swift move, I delivered a powerful front kick, sending Blackwood crashing to the ground. The room fell silent, the echoes of our struggle fading into the darkness. Coughing he sat in the corner laughing with blood spilling down his face. “You know that it’s too late to save any of these one lying on the tables. I would’ve released you, you know that right? I would’ve simply taken your memory from today out of your brain and leaving you in your bed to wake up thinking you had a fun night” he said with final resolve as he watched me grab the scalpel from the ground taking slow steps near him.
Looking down over him, It was my turn to laugh. Kneeling down to eye level with him I grabbed him by his hair and delivered a final message to him “Fuck you and your little science experiment” as I sliced deep into his throat watching the life fade from his eyes.
I eventually found an exit door, which lead me to a storm drain deep in the woods far from my campus. It took me 2 hours to limp my way onto a main road and flag down a passing car. Pulling over I was rushed to the hospital and later interrogated by some men in suits, my guess is CIA. Here I am now, writing my final entrance. I think I heard them say something about trying a new medical process on me to help me heal quicker