Fletch gently pushed open the large and lavishly decorated bronze doors of the university administration building and ambled out into the portico. He set his cup of coffee down on the pedestal of a granite pillar and pulled his cigarette case from the breast pocket of his tan trench coat. The old chief inspector plucked a cigarette from the ornately engraved case with slender fingers and wondered why the Kael let him come at all.
Something felt very off with the whole thing. The more he thought about it, the more he questioned the story he got. Mike Anderson was certainly depressed, but as far as Fletch could tell, he had not displayed any suicidal behavior. And why now? Fletch thought. Things were on the upswing for the kid. His grades were excellent, his family situation was good, and he was out of the house more this term than the last. Fletch scratched his mustache. Why would the seals hide the autopsy and the gun? He brought the cigarette to his lips, snapped the filigreed case shut, and slipped it back into the breast pocket of his coat. Fletch flicked open his lighter and sighed as he lit his cigarette. Murder.
It was a hopeless case. These days, warrants were approved by the seals, and even if they weren't, he doubted that he could get one anyway. His suspicion of foul play was backed by nothing but his instinct.
Fletch watched students hustle and bustle through the plaza in front of him as he puffed away at his cigarette and pondered his theory.
But why kill him now? They could have done it in complete secrecy while he was a POW. And it couldn’t be to keep what happened in Philadelphia under wraps. His death brings more attention to it. And he wasn’t a rebel. So why? Fletch sipped at his coffee as he flicked ash from his cigarette. Vengeance? Did he kill some noble brat during the war?
Fletch scratched at his grey mustache and glanced at his watch. I’ll have to follow that thread. He tossed his half-smoked cigarette into a puddle as he briskly walked down the steps and through the university plaza.
The withered investigator was deep in thought when he entered the parking lot. What do I tell that Enrique chap? He unlocked his car and crawled in. I certainly can’t tell him that his mate’s been clipped with no evidence. Fletch turned the key, and the engine of his little Volvo sputtered to life. It’s no bleeding use. I’ll just tell the lad they weren’t interested in sharing and keep my suspicions to myself.
As he reached for the shifter, Fletch noticed a delightfully thick manilla envelope stuck in the gap between the center console and the passenger seat.
He pulled the envelope from the crack. Gingerly, he opened it and pulled out a small note. It read We’re even now, prick.
Fletch smiled and couldn’t help but mutter, “The game is afoot,” as he flicked through the stack of documents inside.
Isabella poked her head into the large office and saw Professor Dret’la with a ball of dark green yarn on her lap and bone darning needles beset with carvings in her hands.
Isabella was struck with confusion. What? She crochets!?
The professor looked up from her labor, spotted the confused girl outside her door, and called, “Come in.”
Isabella walked into the office and took a seat. She gestured to the yarn in the professor's hands. “What are you making?”
The professor smiled as motherly as one could with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. “It will be a hat for my son. He just received his commission as a junior biologist, so he has to rummage around in freezers to get samples for his whole research team.”
Isabella blinked. This was not characteristic at all for the quick-tempered professor with a penchant for launching chalk across lecture halls at the mildest provocation.
Isabella shook off her shocked expression and gave the tall professor a dimpled cheek smile. “That’s so sweet! I’m sure he’ll love it. One of the best gifts I’ve ever received was a thick wool sweater from my mamma during a training exercise off the coast of Norway.”
The professor, still smiling, sat up straight. “I hope that’s the kind of reception I get.”
The professor’s demeanor hardened as she stowed the yarn and needles in the desk drawer. “Now, let's get down to business.”
Isabella gulped.
“To start, congratulations. You’ve passed our testing and been selected for officer training.”
Isabella asked, “Who else was selected?”
“There are nine others: Robert Rhodes, Elena Pavel, Hal Jellico, Zheng Li, Brooke Halsey, Colow Aden, Magnus Tordenskjold, Bill Lee, and Kazuya Yamamoto.”
Isabella didn’t recognize all the names.
“Should you choose to accept, you will be taking a prep course taught by Colonel Ocidea and I starting next week and lasting all through the summer. If we deem you ready, you’ll ship out for basic training and then off to the Royal Military Academy, where you can earn your commission.” Dr. Dret’la leaned in close to Isabella. “Do you accept?”
Without hesitation, Isabella answered, “Yes.”
“Mike, come over here. You’re going to want to see this.” Calty voiced from her seat in the front of the cockpit.
Mike rolled off the couch and walked into the front of the cockpit as the captain shouted, “Decelerate!” Mike couldn’t help but grab onto the back of Calty’s seat as the FTL drive kicked into gear. The cockpit glass dimmed just before blindingly bright blue jets of fire from the front-facing engines came into view. A bright green circle flickered onto the glass surrounding a marble-sized dot darker than the rest of the now dim screen. The dots and circles expanded at an extreme pace until they took up most of the display. Another dot appeared—minuscule compared to the other—surrounded by a red circle. The growth of the shadowy dots and the circles around them slowed and then stopped entirely as the engines sputtered out.
The HUD faded out of view, and the tint of the glass slowly lightened, revealing a vast planet embraced by blue-green ice with a colossal foundry in its orbit. The planet, a gas giant called Drassus, was orbited by four rings. One was made of containers, and the other three were made up of loose ore gleaming in the nearby star's light. Exhaust chimneys spewing gas and fire sprouted from the otherwise spherical foundry, giving it a sea urchin-like profile, which, together with the weave of pipes bringing fuel from beneath the icy surface of the planet below, made the foundry resemble an old naval mine.
The captain strode up to the front of the cockpit. “One-third ahead and steer 14 degrees left. We’re unloading in bay three.”
Six mech suits and a tug exited a plasma-shielded hanger as the ship came to a halt. The mechs glided to the front of the ship and started dismounting the external cargo bay from the Broken Fin while the tug hitched onto the opposite end of the ten-kilometer-long rack of containers.
A little while later, the tug pulled away with the load of containers, and the comm system blared to life. “Broken Fin, you are cleared to leave. The UO corporation thanks you for your business.”
The captain replied, “Our pleasure. Broken fin out.” as the ship pulled out of the loading bay.
He turned to the navigation officer and said, “Lock in coordinates for jump to Kael Prime.”
The captain went to the central control board and pulled up traffic control. “Tower 1, this is the Broken Fin. We request a jump slot to Kael Prime from Drassus.”
“Broken Fin, request granted. Your departure slot is at 16:33.”
Mike glanced at the top right of the ship's HUD and looked at the time. 16:21.
Better get my stuff together…
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ship shuddered ever so slightly despite the inertial dampeners as it exited FTL. Mike was lounging on the couch with his bag at his feet. He was ready to get off this tub.
Mike idly watched flames lick at the cockpit window as the ship descended into the atmosphere of Kael Prime. He looked at Dreki, who was sitting on the other couch. His muscles bulged through his clothes despite wearing a white sweater so large it could be mistaken for the sail of an average-sized boat. Mike asked, “Do you know anything about what’ll happen to me now?”
The big Kael shifted in his seat. “Technically, I’m not supposed to tell you anything, but what the hell.” Dreki pulled the collar of his sweater down, revealing an angry white number burnt into his iron-gray skin just below the collarbone. “First, you’ll get branded.” He released his shirt and pointed to a small scar on the side of his head. “Then you’ll get an AR implant.”
“Where will I be getting that?” Mike asked.
“The Imperial Science Academy. We’re going to be staying there for a few days. They’ll run a bunch of tests and get you fitted for equipment there. After that, I’ll drop you off at the spaceport, and you’ll be off to Tlaxcalssus for basic training. After that, I don’t know.”
“Thanks.”
The ship shook as it touched down on the landing pad. “Time to go.” Dreki shouldered his pack and walked out the door. Mike fiddled with the straps of his bag as he followed Dreki down the ramp and to the far side of the ship, away from the rest of the passengers. Mike's nose was immediately assaulted with the acrid smell of sulfur from where the fiery exhausts of engines had melted asphalt. The spaceport was swarming with vehicles and filled with the constant roar of ship engines and a symphony of smaller equipment. Power loaders and mechs loaded and unloaded heavy cargo, shuttles bustled to and fro with passengers, baggage carriers snaked through the crowded landing pads, and vehicles that looked like floating garage doors zipped through the air at ankle height, bringing pilots and crew to their ships. Mike couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the absurdity of it all. Here he was, in the heartland of the enemy, walking through what was essentially a ten-acre parking lot.
Dreki plopped his bags on the ground and yawned as he stretched his arms over his head. “Our skiff will be here in a minute.”
Mike tuned out the beeps and whirrs of the tank-sized forklifts and mechs unloading the ship and gazed out beyond at the horizon. You’re not in Kansas anymore, bub. Mike thought as he studied the skyline of the imperial city basked in the glow of the early evening sun. Some of the buildings wouldn’t look all that out of place on Earth, but the skyline was assaulted with abominations that pissed on the laws of physics as Man understood them. Tusk-shaped skyscrapers defied gravity with their seemingly unsupported curves, and even more absurd were pyramids stacked atop another point-to-point like hourglasses. Any delusion of normalcy that Mike could come up with was shattered.
Dreki picked up his bag and pointed to a slab of black marble speeding towards them at ankle height. “Here’s our skiff.” A railing popped out of the center as the skiff came to a gliding halt. Dreki boarded the skiff and took hold of the rail, and Mike followed suit.
They sped through the spaceport and stopped outside what looked to Mike like a train station. Dreki shouldered his bag and stepped off the skiff. Mike stepped off and quickly fell in pace with Dreki. The big Kael led Mike into a grand station bustling with people. Most were Kael, but there was a smattering of other species. Some stared at Mike, others glanced, but most completely ignored him as he followed Dreki through the hall and onto a platform. Unfamiliar aliens clearly weren’t an uncommon sight here.
The walls of the station were covered with mosaics depicting Kael warriors from the distant past. Dreki noted the human's curiosity and said, “The founders of the clans.” He leveled a massive hand toward an opulent, towering mosaic of a Kael warrior wielding a bronze falx. The imposing figure's body was made of blue gemstones, the eyes rubies, one tusk silver, and the other gold. “That’s the founder of my clan, Drekalla Gold Tusk.”
Mike asked, “How’d he manage that?” As he followed Dreki into a mostly empty train car.
Dreki plopped down on a bench. “He was the war priest of Hroptaug the Conqueror during the unification wars. After the wars were won, Hroptaug granted us the Steam Hills.” Dreki pointed through the train window at the mosaic of another warrior whose body was made of milky white pearls. “That one,” He paused and spat on the floor, “Tiblan the Terror, challenged Drekalla to a duel for most of that land. Drekalla was cutting him to pieces, but the craven poisoned his blade. Just before Drekalla could deliver the final blow, the poison reached his heart, and Drekalla died. The only wound on his body was a cut across his forearm that barely drew blood.” Dreki rolled up his sleeve, showing a scar that reached from his elbow to the middle of his forearm. “Every K’alla is cut the same way to remind us of the blood feud.”
Mike inwardly sighed. Kael and their damned feuds… “How long ago was this.”
“Seven thousand four hundred and fifty-one years ago.”
Mike held back a snort. The absurdity of it all. The first human law codes came about to stop blood feuds, and out here, they have feuds that have lasted longer than Earth's recorded history.
“How’s that feud been going as of late?”
Dreki’s face sagged, “Not good.”
They both grew quiet. Mike shuffled uncomfortably.
Mike glanced at the route display and broke the silence, “What's with the middle city, inner city thing?”
Dreki relaxed slightly. “Oh, so the city used to be a fortification. The inner city is actually a volcanic island. The middle is built over the river, and the outer city was built on the banks.”
“I see.”
The doors closed, and the intercom sounded, “Next stop, the inner city.”
Dale Robert’s wrinkled face was unreadable, and his highly decorated black and blue dress uniform immaculate as he led a horse through the street. He felt the eyes of thousands of onlookers on him, and he hated it. The pure black horse had a black leather saddle on its back. Two tall, glossy black boots were placed backward in silver stirrups, and the elaborate hilt of Mike’s basket-hilted broadsword jutted from the top of a black leather scabbard buckled to the saddle. Roberts followed the horse-drawn caisson bearing the flag-draped coffin of his old commanding officer. Not much farther now, he thought. The sounds of the cartwheels rolling and the horse’s tack jangling were wholly drowned out by boots stamping the ground in unison. Almost all of the 1800 survivors of the 801st regiment were there, resplendent in their dress uniforms, marching behind Mike one more time. The local police and fire departments joined them.
Roberts was unsure about it all. He felt that the poor kid's family would have preferred a smaller service back home in Colorado instead of this damn near royal procession. And Roberts was damn sure that the seals did not give their permission for this, no matter what the police chief said.
A reporter ducked through the police barricade and tried to ask the marching soldiers questions, but they remained stone-faced as the procession marched nearer to the gates of Philadelphia National Cemetery. Roberts handed the reigns of the riderless horse to another man in uniform and joined seven other members of Charlie platoon in pulling the casket from the cassion. They silently began their march to the grave, closely followed by General McCarthy, the man who was Joint Chief of Staff, and the color guard. Bagpipers began to blare, “Going Home.” Roberts heard the sound of gravpulse engines and looked up in dismay as a Kael gunship broke through the low clouds and descended to just barely above the cemetery. A loudspeaker blared, “Disperse at once.”

I won't disclose its actual location, so if that's why you're here, sorry to disappoint. It's not time for that yet. However, I do think it's time to start getting the word out. I've noticed an increase in what I'll call "Antennas" lately, or people who can detect cross-planar phase shifts. Without getting into all the math (some of which I don't even know), this is basically a phenomenon which refers to entropy seeping into our universe from other realms or universes or whatever you want to call it. Simply put, people think our universe is a closed system to entropy, meaning that the disorder of any variable in our universe can only increase or decrease in direct proportion to other variables in that same system (the universe). Under this precept, we can establish rules like the Laws of Thermodynamics, and for most people, they're effective. But not for Antennas.
Put another way, if you throw a bunch of bouncy balls into a box, there are a number of different configurations that the balls could take on, with different speeds and magnitudes. You can calculate all of those if you have the right numbers. Now let's say you throw in another set of balls that you don't consider in your calculations of the initial set. Well, then you're not going to get an accurate picture of what's happening. Most people only see the first set and calculate based on that, but some people can see two, three, four or more sets.
You'll understand the concept better when I tell you the story, but I wanted to give you a primer on an important concept that will help you understand why this place, which I'll call "Area X", exists, and what the goals of the people who work there are.
Also note that I'm going to be using the alias "Trent" moving forward. Please refer to me as such in any direct messages.
***
Eighteen years ago I started working as an independent Home Inspector. I dropped out of community college after my first semester (not because I didn't find some of the subjects interesting, but because deference to a man or woman has never been my style) and started working some odd jobs. I did construction work for a couple years, then plumbing. I even drove a garbage truck for six months. I've always found pleasure in using my hands, and getting dirty was never a problem for me. Still, having a boss really dragged ass, so I spent my free time working on creating my own business. It took a few years and lots of savings, but I finally managed to get basic set of Home Inspection equipment: Tyvek coveralls, a cheap half-face respirator, voltage & AFCI/GFCI testers, CO2 and radon monitors, an IR camera, and telescoping mirrors in addition to the boots, safety glasses, electric gloves, ladder, and toolkits I already had on hand.
My buddy at the time was in the business, but he was moving off to the coast, so he helped me get set up and even introduced me to some of his clients. Of course, by that time I had already gotten my State license, but I still was a bit apprehensive to work with insurance agencies. I thought I could make a living working independently, inspecting for mold or sizing up a house for a prospective buyer. Eventually, though, I realized I should probably take every job available to me.
Easing into the business went about as well as it could have. The clients my friend referred to me were very satisfied with my work, and I was able to retain them. Then, in order to increase my reach, I hired someone on Fiverr to build a website for my company which led to a marked increase in traffic and conversions. About six months through, I began to get on a first-name basis with the boys and girls down down at Allstate and Progressive, and they fed me some of the bigger cases. In fact, I got so booked by year's end that I had to hire someone to help manage my schedule and the Excel spreadsheet with all my finances. I capped off a successful year with a 5-star Google rating and a trip to Ireland to visit some family and friends and get piss drunk. When I got back, it was the grindstone all over again, until the summer when I discovered… well, you'll see.
First off, I want to say that I was never one to believe in the paranormal. I grew up watching the movies and hearing the ghost stories round the campfire like every other kid, but it never struck a chord with me. If I can't touch it or see it or hear it, does it really exist? Probably not. So don't go thinking this was a scared man seeing his own shadow. That being said, I had this sense that something was off about this house when I parked along the curb and looked through a large window, perhaps two times the size of my van, to a dingy, dark foyer.
The entire neighborhood was stacked with upper-middle class domiciles, though it seemed like only two thirds of them were occupied, mostly by professionals who commuted to the City every weekday, and the rest were empty. As a man who understands real estate, to say this was strange would be an understatement. Still, I had no problem appraising the mini-mansion for a couple of newlyweds looking to enter the community. I did some research on the property ahead of time, and it seems that it was owned by a couple of old timers who had gone off the grid some time ago. The water and electric bill were both unpaid dating back to 2004 (it was June of '06 now). The bank had repo'd the house (which only had about 100k left on it) and held it for a year and a half before putting it back on the market. I tried to find out more about the old couple who vanished, but there was nothing in the news.
I stepped out of the van in my coveralls and grabbed my suitcase which had my mask, gloves, and eye protection in it. I liked to do a preliminary survey first, running an eye test on the exterior then interior before bringing out the big guns (that way I could identify the areas where I think there could be problems instead of running a metal detector over the whole damn ocean seaboard). I was about to do just that when the window caught my eye again. It felt uncharacteristic of me to be so occupied with this window, but I detoured to the front porch and peeked inside anyway.
Most of the furniture had already been moved out, meaning all that was left was a single three-seater couch, a couple candlesticks on the fireplace mantle, a pristine chandelier overtop a dining room table, and the kitchenware: an oven, gas stovetop, marble countertops, and an island. I could see into the living room very clearly with the afternoon light, but the dining room was dim enough that there were a few structures I couldn't quite make out in the distance. One of them appeared to be some kind of china cabinet or bookshelf—I figured it was the former considering where it was located. The other shadow looked kind of like a grandfather clock. Or at least that's what I thought until it moved.
When I say it "moved", I don't mean to say that it picked up and walked away. If you're not familiar with the Necker Cube, I suggest you search it up, because that kind of illusion is the best way to describe what I saw. At first I was seeing the grandfather clock in a certain way—pushed into the corner of the room—and the next second my vision "corrected" and it was maybe five feet to the left of its former position. I shook my head and looked again and saw the grandfather clock in its second orientation, standing in the center of the room against the wall. I figured I was just seeing things, but even so I spent a little extra time dawdling around the Egress window, taking notes, and delaying the interior inspection.
When I finally grew a pair and went inside, I walked straight to the dining room. Sure enough, the grandfather clock was stowed away in the corner of the room. I spent a couple minutes watching it with my pencil and travel notebook out. I'm the kind of guy that likes to collect hard data when the chips are down. Unfortunately, the clock apparently already had enough fun and was content with sweating me. Oh, well.
I fitted my pencil behind my ear and pocketed my travel notebook, then flipped the rest of the first floor lights on and completed my prelim. I concluded that everything was pretty standard. If anything, the house was in better shape than I'd expect considering it presumably hasn't been lived in for a couple years. I say "presumably" because one can never count out squatters, even during those times. Mainly I was expecting more dust build up and cobwebs than there were. Perhaps someone from the department had come by recently. It's unlikely, but possible.
I did the same check upstairs and it came back mostly clean. There was a bit of staining near the attic I wanted to check for mold. Based on its color, it was probably just a minor case of Aspergillus, but better safe than sorry. Then I got to the basement, and, well, let's just count out the idea of anyone dropping by. I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't what I found.
The first thing that caught my eye was the long, slender body of a birch tree lying pale and dead across a large portion of the even larger unfinished basement's cement flooring. I had to do a double take to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but, yep, there it was. Its crown was sealed up in the wall with only its trunk hanging out, which made me think of those medieval pillory devices which locked up people's heads and arms. Then confetti-scattered around the tree and all over the basement floor was a minefield of broken glass and ceramic tangled up with a set of random objects. And when I say random, I mean random. There was an unfurled Somali flag (the blue one with a single star in the center), some packaged drinks and condiments branded with all sorts of different languages (I could only make out Gaelic and Chinese or Japanese, I couldn't quite tell), a broken dome-shaped security camera, an otoscope (the thing the doc uses to check your ears), Hot Wheels cars (okay that one isn't so strange), and the list goes on.
At that moment, I wasn't freaked out or disgusted. I was more or less just confused. I started walking through the rubble, trying to avoid the sharp fragments but pretty confident that my steel toed boots would crush most the pieces anyway, when I heard a clink just up ahead. I was able to spot the coin in time, just before it jingled to a halt atop an old Life magazine. I picked it up and noted right away its oval shape and bronze color—clearly not American made. I tried reading it, but not only was the language not English, it appeared to be so old that most of the lettering had been filed down. I looked up at the ceiling to see if it dropped from a shelf, but there was nothing that could have been holding the coin. I considered for a moment, looking around at the other junk, and had the crazy idea that maybe all this stuff just appeared here. I popped the coin in my pocket and headed back to the van when I stopped by the tree and realized something. It wasn't a birch tree—it was a palm tree. I just didn't realize because of how ashy and decayed the bark was.
Now at this point you might think I've been acting a little nonchalant for such a strange occurrence, and I don't blame you, but if you're gonna stick around with me that's just something you're gonna have to get used to. I guess I was just born with a screw loose, but I really don't scare easily, and I tend to look at everything pragmatically. If you dig deep enough, you'll always find another plausible explanation. That being said, I do want to get to the part about Area X, so let me give you the rundown on what I learned about this basement.
I ended up trekking back to the van and picking up my gear. I was no longer running the routine inspection, obviously, but I figured I might as well throw 30 thousand dollars of scanning equipment at whatever the fuck anamoly existed in that basement. Most of it came back negative. There was a bit higher-than-usual EM interference as picked up on the voltmeters, but nothing that screamed danger close. Still, it was enough for me to set up my volt testers and IR camera while muddling through the rest of the junk. I won't bore you with another list of items, but I did find one thing of value: a diamond necklace. And not just any diamond necklace, it was one of those Queen-wearing, multi-row, big-jeweled necklaces like out of some Historical Fiction movie from the thirties. I almost didn't pocket it because I'm used to expensive items being owned by someone… someone who might want it back. But I figured if there was ever a place the finder's keeper's rule applied, it was probably in this Quantum graveyard.
7 O'clock rolled around and I hadn't eaten. I'm a pretty bulky guy, carrying my share of both muscle and fat, and most people think that means I need to eat a ton but that's really not the case. Mostly I just get dehydrated easily, especially in the summer. That said, I was bordering on famished territory and considered heading out for a bite when I heard another sound. The first thing I did was check my scanners, and sure enough the voltage needle was fully spun to the right side of the dial. EM interference. Then I went to see what had dropped. I was able to pick the object out pretty quickly since I had spent the last 6 hours staring at the mosaic of a basement floor. It was a silver briefcase, like one of those out of a crime novel, and it was cracked open.
I had this sense then that I was standing at a precipice, and if I opened the briefcase and looked inside, I wouldn't be able to stop whatever would come afterwards. Part of me deep down knew that I was just that type of guy that had to know, and maybe this was my Hamlet moment where it would be a trait gone a step too far. But then again I didn't really believe in any of that sentimental bullshit, so I opened the briefcase.
The gun surprised me a little, but not as much as the piece of paper laid atop a case file reading in large black font, "FIND ME". I expected the envelope to have some missing person file in it, but instead there were all these schematics and blueprints for some kind of device. Whatever it was, it was pretty massive. Some of the lengths were hundreds of meters long. And what's more strange is based on the blueprint's locale, it appeared to be underground. I looked back through the pages a couple times, then checked the note—nothing strange there. The gun appeared to be a simple glock. I was no gun expert, but I had been to the range pretty regularly with my construction buddies, so I got used to the feel of a pistol and rifle and some of the different names; however, I realized pretty quickly it wasn't your standard glock when I couldn't find mag-release. That's when I noticed how light the gun felt. I tried to chamber a round, but again, there was no hammer. What the hell kind of gun was this?
I ended up throwing everything back in the briefcase, including the necklace, coin, and a few Koozies I found that were branded with one of my favorite sports teams (never let an opportunity go to waste). I put up all my shit back in the van and spun over to a local burger joint, got my fill, and went home. I made sure to draft an email to the prospective buyers, telling them the house had several patches of black mold and a bit of a rat problem before drifting off to sleep. Although I really didn't do much of that.
When I woke up, I took a cold shower and downed a can of Reign, then commuted to my gym and got a lift and some sauna time in before making the trip back to the house. I brought some extra supplies with me for some experiments I cooked up while not sleeping the previous night.
First, I had two camcorders set up on a couple tripods in either corner of the basement. I wanted clear footage of these mystery objects spawning in. Then I set up a voltmeter in a similar fashion, but I had a wire extending out of it on a circuit which fed to an alarm that would blare when the reading was over 250 volts. Upstairs, I rearranged some of the furniture so that the small number of tables, chairs, clock, cabinets, and other little pillows or vases I could find were scattered across the living room, dining room, and kitchen. Then I pulled up a lawn chair to the front porch window and waited.
I didn't have to wait long though. In about a minute, I started to notice some of the objects moving. It was strange. When a few of them would shift simultaneously, it was like looking at a holographic card that would change shape depending on where your eyes were in relation to the image. Every time I saw a shift, I felt an awkward feeling in my eyes. They went blurry for a fraction of a second, then there was a twinge of pain, as if my brain couldn't handle the contradictory stimulus. It didn't get more crazy than that though—until the alarm went off.
I had cracked open the small rectangular window in the basement to the side of the house so I would hear it. It took four hours and several strange stares from passersby walking their dogs before it rang, so I was a bit lost in my thoughts, but when I heard the beep I perked up fast. It lasted for maybe 5 seconds total, but what I saw was truly miraculous. The best way I can describe it is a pool of silver or gray or translucent light emerging in the foreground between me and the objects in the different rooms. A series of twisting tentacles sprouted from the gray octopus-like head and spun in a way that reminded me of that little kids ride at the amusement parks. Then the objects started to "heat up" is the way I describe it. Their position became relative, meaning they were here one second, there another, then they popped out of existence entirely. Suddenly the rooms were all empty, then they were full of things I had never seen before. Then five seconds passed and the octopus vanished and it was back to the same old objects in their usual places.
It took a few minutes to process what I saw, and even then I wasn't sure I really saw it. I went inside and looked around at my distribution of the house's furnishings. They were all there, intact. Then I went downstairs to check the cams. I rewinded a couple minutes and played it back, but there was no flying object to be found. Instead, there was some gray static that lasted half a second and then the object, a kid's treasure chest toy, was there on the ground. But you want to know the really strange part? I rewinded the tape again, and when I watched the footage back, the treasure chest was always there.
I later came to understand that these poppings in-and-out of our reality are only conceivable to a conscious mind that can track the interference patterns—not rote computational instruments. In fact, even most people can't do it (although everyone has at least a slight awareness of it, even if only subconsciously). Plus, locations like the basement of this house are very rare and kept under tight lock. That became obvious to me two days later when, after my normal morning routine, I pulled up to a driveway and curbside filled with unmarked government vehicles. Either bravely or stupidly, I pulled up to a few officers (they were wearing suits in 85 degree weather, so I assumed…) who were idling by the large fence of crime scene tape and asked them what the score was.
"There was a crime," said the short man with a unibrow.
"Oh, is that right? Damn shame. Someone break in? I have a niece who lives nearby, so…"
The man looked at his two compatriots, both of whom were wearing sunglasses and a "get this civilian fuck out of here" expressions. "Oh, yeah," he started in a reassuring tone that was so condescending it would have annoyed anyone except me, "we found a body. We think it was a homicide. Best to keep your kids away from here for a while."
I thumbed the stubble on my chin, my other hand outstretched on the wheel, and considered moving on, but my mouth had other ideas. "That right? But uh, isn't this house vacant? I mean, I don't remember no one living in it."
The short man, now tall with temper, said, "Yeah, some squatters. We think there was a dispute over some drug money. Nothing for you to worry about though, we got it under control. Now if you wouldn't mind moving along, we have a lot of work to do."
Oh, I'm sure you do, I thought, but only said, "Of course, sir, sorry for keeping you from your job." Then I rolled up the window and cruised on, keeping my eyes on the house which slowly diminished in the side-view mirror.
Luckily I had been smart enough to break down my camp and lug home all my equipment each night, so I didn't leave anything incriminating. I didn't move the furniture back, so maybe that would come back to haunt me, but considering the kind of shit going down in that house, I didn't think they would notice.
For any of you wondering about the conclusion of the house story, I went back a couple weeks later after the suits had left and the tape was taken down and confirmed that not only was the basement entirely cleaned out, but it was no longer exhibiting any strange properties. I looked for a story related to the house, maybe a made up murder of some kind, but there was nothing. That bastard lied to me and didn't even bother to cover his story up.
Now, in the aftermath of an event such as this, I really only had one of two options. I could forget it, move on, continue living life. The necklace was surely worth a fortune. I could sell it and have enough to retire, or at least hire enough people and expand my business large enough to retire within ten or so years. Or I could take all that money and invest it in my own PI business with only a single objective: finding out what those people knew, and why they were hiding it.
I think you know me well enough by now to guess which line of reasoning appealed more to me.
***
For the sake of brevity, I'm going to omit most of my encounters along the journey to discovering Area X. There's a lot to tell, and if it appeals to you perhaps I'd be willing to share at a later date, but for now I want to get this part of the story, the more proximal part, out in the open.
Three years ago, I discovered the source of what I'll call "The Receiver". This is the device that was schematized in the documents that I found in the briefcase. What it does is a complex answer, and how it does it is pretty much all speculation, but here's what I've been able to find out: this universe we live in is a node in a network of many other spaces. These spaces exist in higher dimensions that we cannot directly perceive, but using a conceivable analogy, just think about a flower with petals. The petals are these other dimensions which bleed into our world, which is at the center. However, it's not that pretty. We see the physical world through the lens of spacetime: sizes, speeds, etc. These other dimensions don't necessarily have space or time. In fact, what actually exists there, I couldn't say. The only data I have on them is from two sources: correspondence information and server data from the secret agency (which I'll call "the Organization") that keeps this under wraps, and first-hand experience with realms from these other entities, either directly (I experience it) or through the eyes of someone else with the same or greater abilities than I possess.
I referred to these people with abilities earlier as "Antennas", and I will continue to use the term. Antennas really come in three flavors, marked by the strength of their ability: weak Antennas, like me, are able to observe spontaneous interactions between our universe and other dimensions (phase shifts) when there is a strong force of collision like existed in the basement; moderate Antennas may see phase shifts occur at any point, and they usually are able to retain memories from across the different transformations; strong Antennas, and I don't know if they exist yet, but they are able to consciously interact with these other realms and cause phase shifts to occur.
I mentioned that moderate Antennas are able to retain memories from before and after a phase shift. Technically, all Antennas have this ability, but it's about degree. I can recall only very specific instances and without much detail. Moderates are usually able to pick out much more nuanced minutiae. At the lower end of moderate scale, most of those details fade or get fuzzy over time, but for the very strong Antennas, they hold onto almost everything. One other property that scales with strength is interaction with other conscious entities. Only a small percentage of moderates are able to do this. What's interesting is that these entities can possess (yes, like ghosts) people who aren't even antennas, but no one is aware of such possession at this deep of a level. I have several companions now, and only two have had interactions with these otherworldly beings. Not all of them are malevolent, some of them are whimsical or kind, but there are a fair share of demons out there.
Getting back to the point, Area X started as a government funded project in the 70's. At that time, they were focused on a few subjects: Artificial Intelligence, DNA sequencing, and psychedelics. Yes, they were part of the infamous LSD experiments. But they looked at these subjects through a common lens—there was something that the burgeoning tech industry, fueled by the advent of a commercial computer market, was missing. As the tech giants rose in the early 2000's and began to collect mass amounts of data, this other agency was decades ahead in a different metric, although it was completely (and still is) hidden from the public. Their efforts to understand psychedelic experiences led to a formalized method of understanding interactions between multiple realities. They built certain scanning equipment to detect anomalies like the one I found in the basement; although their tools were much more sophisticated and didn't utilize voltage readings. Then they ran tests in these areas. One area in particular is a hot-bed of phase shift interactions. That's where Area X is located (and the Receiver).
The Receiver is a giant electromagnetic orb that has trapped the kind of multi-dimensional energy that causes the phase shifts; since the Organization seized control of the lab, it's effectively become a map of the Earth in relation to these other worlds. For the past twenty or so years, the Organization has been studying this map, using the data big Tech companies have collected to essentially develop a Rosetta Stone for interpreting the meaning of the fluctuations in their scanning equipment. Recently, the public, though going the long way round, was actually pretty close to a breakthrough in this same department until recently when ultra-powerful LLMs surfaced, and the whole world began going down what I'd argue is the wrong rabbit hole of language processing. But I digress.
Area X is essentially a private military base built for defending the most impactful piece of technology ever invented. With the Receiver, the Organization now has the power to essentially predict any and all future outcomes, the only thing holding them back is the limitations of their own scanning equipment which will get better with time. To put it into perspective, the Organization has access to a kind of data allocation tool which in one day can produce over ten thousand times that the Big Data companies combined would be able to filter through in the next decade. You might think, then, that the problem is merely asymmetric power, and that is certainly a concern, but it isn't the main concern. The main issue is that this organization is actively recruiting (and kidnapping) Antennas from around the world in an effort to find or make one of them into a strong Antenna. In other words, they want a subject who is able not only to see the future, but to manipulate it at will.
balance to the world. I've been working on amassing resources, capital, and building my own team, and now I'm ready. You might ask why I'm posting this here. Wouldn't it be better to keep all this secret? Well, yes, it would be. But that's the problem. Nothing is secret anymore. They know about me and the others, and if I don't make a move, they will. In a way, this is a letter directly to the organization that I know, and I'm coming.
In a different way, I wanted to release this information to the public. There are lots of people out there waking up and realizing that the world they experience is not the one others experience. If you think you might be an Antenna, don't be afraid—you have a special gift that can be controlled. If you want more details on how to control it, or if you're interested in my mission, don't be afraid to reach out. This hasn't always been my life's work, but it is now.
At least until I die.

I won't disclose its actual location, so if that's why you're here, sorry to disappoint. It's not time for that yet. However, I do think it's time to start getting the word out. I've noticed an increase in what I'll call "Antennas" lately, or people who can detect cross-planar phase shifts. Without getting into all the math (some of which I don't even know), this is basically a phenomenon which refers to entropy seeping into our universe from other realms or universes or whatever you want to call it. Simply put, people think our universe is a closed system to entropy, meaning that the disorder of any variable in our universe can only increase or decrease in direct proportion to other variables in that same system (the universe). Under this precept, we can establish rules like the Laws of Thermodynamics, and for most people, they're effective. But not for Antennas.
Put another way, if you throw a bunch of bouncy balls into a box, there are a number of different configurations that the balls could take on, with different speeds and magnitudes. You can calculate all of those if you have the right numbers. Now let's say you throw in another set of balls that you don't consider in your calculations of the initial set. Well, then you're not going to get an accurate picture of what's happening. Most people only see the first set and calculate based on that, but some people can see two, three, four or more sets.
You'll understand the concept better when I tell you the story, but I wanted to give you a primer on an important concept that will help you understand why this place, which I'll call "Area X", exists, and what the goals of the people who work there are.
Also note that I'm going to be using the alias "Trent" moving forward. Please refer to me as such in any direct messages.
***
Eighteen years ago I started working as an independent Home Inspector. I dropped out of community college after my first semester (not because I didn't find some of the subjects interesting, but because deference to a man or woman has never been my style) and started working some odd jobs. I did construction work for a couple years, then plumbing. I even drove a garbage truck for six months. I've always found pleasure in using my hands, and getting dirty was never a problem for me. Still, having a boss really dragged ass, so I spent my free time working on creating my own business. It took a few years and lots of savings, but I finally managed to get basic set of Home Inspection equipment: Tyvek coveralls, a cheap half-face respirator, voltage & AFCI/GFCI testers, CO2 and radon monitors, an IR camera, and telescoping mirrors in addition to the boots, safety glasses, electric gloves, ladder, and toolkits I already had on hand.
My buddy at the time was in the business, but he was moving off to the coast, so he helped me get set up and even introduced me to some of his clients. Of course, by that time I had already gotten my State license, but I still was a bit apprehensive to work with insurance agencies. I thought I could make a living working independently, inspecting for mold or sizing up a house for a prospective buyer. Eventually, though, I realized I should probably take every job available to me.
Easing into the business went about as well as it could have. The clients my friend referred to me were very satisfied with my work, and I was able to retain them. Then, in order to increase my reach, I hired someone on Fiverr to build a website for my company which led to a marked increase in traffic and conversions. About six months through, I began to get on a first-name basis with the boys and girls down down at Allstate and Progressive, and they fed me some of the bigger cases. In fact, I got so booked by year's end that I had to hire someone to help manage my schedule and the Excel spreadsheet with all my finances. I capped off a successful year with a 5-star Google rating and a trip to Ireland to visit some family and friends and get piss drunk. When I got back, it was the grindstone all over again, until the summer when I discovered… well, you'll see.
First off, I want to say that I was never one to believe in the paranormal. I grew up watching the movies and hearing the ghost stories round the campfire like every other kid, but it never struck a chord with me. If I can't touch it or see it or hear it, does it really exist? Probably not. So don't go thinking this was a scared man seeing his own shadow. That being said, I had this sense that something was off about this house when I parked along the curb and looked through a large window, perhaps two times the size of my van, to a dingy, dark foyer.
The entire neighborhood was stacked with upper-middle class domiciles, though it seemed like only two thirds of them were occupied, mostly by professionals who commuted to the City every weekday, and the rest were empty. As a man who understands real estate, to say this was strange would be an understatement. Still, I had no problem appraising the mini-mansion for a couple of newlyweds looking to enter the community. I did some research on the property ahead of time, and it seems that it was owned by a couple of old timers who had gone off the grid some time ago. The water and electric bill were both unpaid dating back to 2004 (it was June of '06 now). The bank had repo'd the house (which only had about 100k left on it) and held it for a year and a half before putting it back on the market. I tried to find out more about the old couple who vanished, but there was nothing in the news.
I stepped out of the van in my coveralls and grabbed my suitcase which had my mask, gloves, and eye protection in it. I liked to do a preliminary survey first, running an eye test on the exterior then interior before bringing out the big guns (that way I could identify the areas where I think there could be problems instead of running a metal detector over the whole damn ocean seaboard). I was about to do just that when the window caught my eye again. It felt uncharacteristic of me to be so occupied with this window, but I detoured to the front porch and peeked inside anyway.
Most of the furniture had already been moved out, meaning all that was left was a single three-seater couch, a couple candlesticks on the fireplace mantle, a pristine chandelier overtop a dining room table, and the kitchenware: an oven, gas stovetop, marble countertops, and an island. I could see into the living room very clearly with the afternoon light, but the dining room was dim enough that there were a few structures I couldn't quite make out in the distance. One of them appeared to be some kind of china cabinet or bookshelf—I figured it was the former considering where it was located. The other shadow looked kind of like a grandfather clock. Or at least that's what I thought until it moved.
When I say it "moved", I don't mean to say that it picked up and walked away. If you're not familiar with the Necker Cube, I suggest you search it up, because that kind of illusion is the best way to describe what I saw. At first I was seeing the grandfather clock in a certain way—pushed into the corner of the room—and the next second my vision "corrected" and it was maybe five feet to the left of its former position. I shook my head and looked again and saw the grandfather clock in its second orientation, standing in the center of the room against the wall. I figured I was just seeing things, but even so I spent a little extra time dawdling around the Egress window, taking notes, and delaying the interior inspection.
When I finally grew a pair and went inside, I walked straight to the dining room. Sure enough, the grandfather clock was stowed away in the corner of the room. I spent a couple minutes watching it with my pencil and travel notebook out. I'm the kind of guy that likes to collect hard data when the chips are down. Unfortunately, the clock apparently already had enough fun and was content with sweating me. Oh, well.
I fitted my pencil behind my ear and pocketed my travel notebook, then flipped the rest of the first floor lights on and completed my prelim. I concluded that everything was pretty standard. If anything, the house was in better shape than I'd expect considering it presumably hasn't been lived in for a couple years. I say "presumably" because one can never count out squatters, even during those times. Mainly I was expecting more dust build up and cobwebs than there were. Perhaps someone from the department had come by recently. It's unlikely, but possible.
I did the same check upstairs and it came back mostly clean. There was a bit of staining near the attic I wanted to check for mold. Based on its color, it was probably just a minor case of Aspergillus, but better safe than sorry. Then I got to the basement, and, well, let's just count out the idea of anyone dropping by. I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't what I found.
The first thing that caught my eye was the long, slender body of a birch tree lying pale and dead across a large portion of the even larger unfinished basement's cement flooring. I had to do a double take to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but, yep, there it was. Its crown was sealed up in the wall with only its trunk hanging out, which made me think of those medieval pillory devices which locked up people's heads and arms. Then confetti-scattered around the tree and all over the basement floor was a minefield of broken glass and ceramic tangled up with a set of random objects. And when I say random, I mean random. There was an unfurled Somali flag (the blue one with a single star in the center), some packaged drinks and condiments branded with all sorts of different languages (I could only make out Gaelic and Chinese or Japanese, I couldn't quite tell), a broken dome-shaped security camera, an otoscope (the thing the doc uses to check your ears), Hot Wheels cars (okay that one isn't so strange), and the list goes on.
At that moment, I wasn't freaked out or disgusted. I was more or less just confused. I started walking through the rubble, trying to avoid the sharp fragments but pretty confident that my steel toed boots would crush most the pieces anyway, when I heard a clink just up ahead. I was able to spot the coin in time, just before it jingled to a halt atop an old Life magazine. I picked it up and noted right away its oval shape and bronze color—clearly not American made. I tried reading it, but not only was the language not English, it appeared to be so old that most of the lettering had been filed down. I looked up at the ceiling to see if it dropped from a shelf, but there was nothing that could have been holding the coin. I considered for a moment, looking around at the other junk, and had the crazy idea that maybe all this stuff just appeared here. I popped the coin in my pocket and headed back to the van when I stopped by the tree and realized something. It wasn't a birch tree—it was a palm tree. I just didn't realize because of how ashy and decayed the bark was.
Now at this point you might think I've been acting a little nonchalant for such a strange occurrence, and I don't blame you, but if you're gonna stick around with me that's just something you're gonna have to get used to. I guess I was just born with a screw loose, but I really don't scare easily, and I tend to look at everything pragmatically. If you dig deep enough, you'll always find another plausible explanation. That being said, I do want to get to the part about Area X, so let me give you the rundown on what I learned about this basement.
I ended up trekking back to the van and picking up my gear. I was no longer running the routine inspection, obviously, but I figured I might as well throw 30 thousand dollars of scanning equipment at whatever the fuck anamoly existed in that basement. Most of it came back negative. There was a bit higher-than-usual EM interference as picked up on the voltmeters, but nothing that screamed danger close. Still, it was enough for me to set up my volt testers and IR camera while muddling through the rest of the junk. I won't bore you with another list of items, but I did find one thing of value: a diamond necklace. And not just any diamond necklace, it was one of those Queen-wearing, multi-row, big-jeweled necklaces like out of some Historical Fiction movie from the thirties. I almost didn't pocket it because I'm used to expensive items being owned by someone… someone who might want it back. But I figured if there was ever a place the finder's keeper's rule applied, it was probably in this Quantum graveyard.
7 O'clock rolled around and I hadn't eaten. I'm a pretty bulky guy, carrying my share of both muscle and fat, and most people think that means I need to eat a ton but that's really not the case. Mostly I just get dehydrated easily, especially in the summer. That said, I was bordering on famished territory and considered heading out for a bite when I heard another sound. The first thing I did was check my scanners, and sure enough the voltage needle was fully spun to the right side of the dial. EM interference. Then I went to see what had dropped. I was able to pick the object out pretty quickly since I had spent the last 6 hours staring at the mosaic of a basement floor. It was a silver briefcase, like one of those out of a crime novel, and it was cracked open.
I had this sense then that I was standing at a precipice, and if I opened the briefcase and looked inside, I wouldn't be able to stop whatever would come afterwards. Part of me deep down knew that I was just that type of guy that had to know, and maybe this was my Hamlet moment where it would be a trait gone a step too far. But then again I didn't really believe in any of that sentimental bullshit, so I opened the briefcase.
The gun surprised me a little, but not as much as the piece of paper laid atop a case file reading in large black font, "FIND ME". I expected the envelope to have some missing person file in it, but instead there were all these schematics and blueprints for some kind of device. Whatever it was, it was pretty massive. Some of the lengths were hundreds of meters long. And what's more strange is based on the blueprint's locale, it appeared to be underground. I looked back through the pages a couple times, then checked the note—nothing strange there. The gun appeared to be a simple glock. I was no gun expert, but I had been to the range pretty regularly with my construction buddies, so I got used to the feel of a pistol and rifle and some of the different names; however, I realized pretty quickly it wasn't your standard glock when I couldn't find mag-release. That's when I noticed how light the gun felt. I tried to chamber a round, but again, there was no hammer. What the hell kind of gun was this?
I ended up throwing everything back in the briefcase, including the necklace, coin, and a few Koozies I found that were branded with one of my favorite sports teams (never let an opportunity go to waste). I put up all my shit back in the van and spun over to a local burger joint, got my fill, and went home. I made sure to draft an email to the prospective buyers, telling them the house had several patches of black mold and a bit of a rat problem before drifting off to sleep. Although I really didn't do much of that.
When I woke up, I took a cold shower and downed a can of Reign, then commuted to my gym and got a lift and some sauna time in before making the trip back to the house. I brought some extra supplies with me for some experiments I cooked up while not sleeping the previous night.
First, I had two camcorders set up on a couple tripods in either corner of the basement. I wanted clear footage of these mystery objects spawning in. Then I set up a voltmeter in a similar fashion, but I had a wire extending out of it on a circuit which fed to an alarm that would blare when the reading was over 250 volts. Upstairs, I rearranged some of the furniture so that the small number of tables, chairs, clock, cabinets, and other little pillows or vases I could find were scattered across the living room, dining room, and kitchen. Then I pulled up a lawn chair to the front porch window and waited.
I didn't have to wait long though. In about a minute, I started to notice some of the objects moving. It was strange. When a few of them would shift simultaneously, it was like looking at a holographic card that would change shape depending on where your eyes were in relation to the image. Every time I saw a shift, I felt an awkward feeling in my eyes. They went blurry for a fraction of a second, then there was a twinge of pain, as if my brain couldn't handle the contradictory stimulus. It didn't get more crazy than that though—until the alarm went off.
I had cracked open the small rectangular window in the basement to the side of the house so I would hear it. It took four hours and several strange stares from passersby walking their dogs before it rang, so I was a bit lost in my thoughts, but when I heard the beep I perked up fast. It lasted for maybe 5 seconds total, but what I saw was truly miraculous. The best way I can describe it is a pool of silver or gray or translucent light emerging in the foreground between me and the objects in the different rooms. A series of twisting tentacles sprouted from the gray octopus-like head and spun in a way that reminded me of that little kids ride at the amusement parks. Then the objects started to "heat up" is the way I describe it. Their position became relative, meaning they were here one second, there another, then they popped out of existence entirely. Suddenly the rooms were all empty, then they were full of things I had never seen before. Then five seconds passed and the octopus vanished and it was back to the same old objects in their usual places.
It took a few minutes to process what I saw, and even then I wasn't sure I really saw it. I went inside and looked around at my distribution of the house's furnishings. They were all there, intact. Then I went downstairs to check the cams. I rewinded a couple minutes and played it back, but there was no flying object to be found. Instead, there was some gray static that lasted half a second and then the object, a kid's treasure chest toy, was there on the ground. But you want to know the really strange part? I rewinded the tape again, and when I watched the footage back, the treasure chest was always there.
I later came to understand that these poppings in-and-out of our reality are only conceivable to a conscious mind that can track the interference patterns—not rote computational instruments. In fact, even most people can't do it (although everyone has at least a slight awareness of it, even if only subconsciously). Plus, locations like the basement of this house are very rare and kept under tight lock. That became obvious to me two days later when, after my normal morning routine, I pulled up to a driveway and curbside filled with unmarked government vehicles. Either bravely or stupidly, I pulled up to a few officers (they were wearing suits in 85 degree weather, so I assumed…) who were idling by the large fence of crime scene tape and asked them what the score was.
"There was a crime," said the short man with a unibrow.
"Oh, is that right? Damn shame. Someone break in? I have a niece who lives nearby, so…"
The man looked at his two compatriots, both of whom were wearing sunglasses and a "get this civilian fuck out of here" expressions. "Oh, yeah," he started in a reassuring tone that was so condescending it would have annoyed anyone except me, "we found a body. We think it was a homicide. Best to keep your kids away from here for a while."
I thumbed the stubble on my chin, my other hand outstretched on the wheel, and considered moving on, but my mouth had other ideas. "That right? But uh, isn't this house vacant? I mean, I don't remember no one living in it."
The short man, now tall with temper, said, "Yeah, some squatters. We think there was a dispute over some drug money. Nothing for you to worry about though, we got it under control. Now if you wouldn't mind moving along, we have a lot of work to do."
Oh, I'm sure you do, I thought, but only said, "Of course, sir, sorry for keeping you from your job." Then I rolled up the window and cruised on, keeping my eyes on the house which slowly diminished in the side-view mirror.
Luckily I had been smart enough to break down my camp and lug home all my equipment each night, so I didn't leave anything incriminating. I didn't move the furniture back, so maybe that would come back to haunt me, but considering the kind of shit going down in that house, I didn't think they would notice.
For any of you wondering about the conclusion of the house story, I went back a couple weeks later after the suits had left and the tape was taken down and confirmed that not only was the basement entirely cleaned out, but it was no longer exhibiting any strange properties. I looked for a story related to the house, maybe a made up murder of some kind, but there was nothing. That bastard lied to me and didn't even bother to cover his story up.
Now, in the aftermath of an event such as this, I really only had one of two options. I could forget it, move on, continue living life. The necklace was surely worth a fortune. I could sell it and have enough to retire, or at least hire enough people and expand my business large enough to retire within ten or so years. Or I could take all that money and invest it in my own PI business with only a single objective: finding out what those people knew, and why they were hiding it.
I think you know me well enough by now to guess which line of reasoning appealed more to me.
***
For the sake of brevity, I'm going to omit most of my encounters along the journey to discovering Area X. There's a lot to tell, and if it appeals to you perhaps I'd be willing to share at a later date, but for now I want to get this part of the story, the more proximal part, out in the open.
Three years ago, I discovered the source of what I'll call "The Receiver". This is the device that was schematized in the documents that I found in the briefcase. What it does is a complex answer, and how it does it is pretty much all speculation, but here's what I've been able to find out: this universe we live in is a node in a network of many other spaces. These spaces exist in higher dimensions that we cannot directly perceive, but using a conceivable analogy, just think about a flower with petals. The petals are these other dimensions which bleed into our world, which is at the center. However, it's not that pretty. We see the physical world through the lens of spacetime: sizes, speeds, etc. These other dimensions don't necessarily have space or time. In fact, what actually exists there, I couldn't say. The only data I have on them is from two sources: correspondence information and server data from the secret agency (which I'll call "the Organization") that keeps this under wraps, and first-hand experience with realms from these other entities, either directly (I experience it) or through the eyes of someone else with the same or greater abilities than I possess.
I referred to these people with abilities earlier as "Antennas", and I will continue to use the term. Antennas really come in three flavors, marked by the strength of their ability: weak Antennas, like me, are able to observe spontaneous interactions between our universe and other dimensions (phase shifts) when there is a strong force of collision like existed in the basement; moderate Antennas may see phase shifts occur at any point, and they usually are able to retain memories from across the different transformations; strong Antennas, and I don't know if they exist yet, but they are able to consciously interact with these other realms and cause phase shifts to occur.
I mentioned that moderate Antennas are able to retain memories from before and after a phase shift. Technically, all Antennas have this ability, but it's about degree. I can recall only very specific instances and without much detail. Moderates are usually able to pick out much more nuanced minutiae. At the lower end of moderate scale, most of those details fade or get fuzzy over time, but for the very strong Antennas, they hold onto almost everything. One other property that scales with strength is interaction with other conscious entities. Only a small percentage of moderates are able to do this. What's interesting is that these entities can possess (yes, like ghosts) people who aren't even antennas, but no one is aware of such possession at this deep of a level. I have several companions now, and only two have had interactions with these otherworldly beings. Not all of them are malevolent, some of them are whimsical or kind, but there are a fair share of demons out there.
Getting back to the point, Area X started as a government funded project in the 70's. At that time, they were focused on a few subjects: Artificial Intelligence, DNA sequencing, and psychedelics. Yes, they were part of the infamous LSD experiments. But they looked at these subjects through a common lens—there was something that the burgeoning tech industry, fueled by the advent of a commercial computer market, was missing. As the tech giants rose in the early 2000's and began to collect mass amounts of data, this other agency was decades ahead in a different metric, although it was completely (and still is) hidden from the public. Their efforts to understand psychedelic experiences led to a formalized method of understanding interactions between multiple realities. They built certain scanning equipment to detect anomalies like the one I found in the basement; although their tools were much more sophisticated and didn't utilize voltage readings. Then they ran tests in these areas. One area in particular is a hot-bed of phase shift interactions. That's where Area X is located (and the Receiver).
The Receiver is a giant electromagnetic orb that has trapped the kind of multi-dimensional energy that causes the phase shifts; since the Organization seized control of the lab, it's effectively become a map of the Earth in relation to these other worlds. For the past twenty or so years, the Organization has been studying this map, using the data big Tech companies have collected to essentially develop a Rosetta Stone for interpreting the meaning of the fluctuations in their scanning equipment. Recently, the public, though going the long way round, was actually pretty close to a breakthrough in this same department until recently when ultra-powerful LLMs surfaced, and the whole world began going down what I'd argue is the wrong rabbit hole of language processing. But I digress.
Area X is essentially a private military base built for defending the most impactful piece of technology ever invented. With the Receiver, the Organization now has the power to essentially predict any and all future outcomes, the only thing holding them back is the limitations of their own scanning equipment which will get better with time. To put it into perspective, the Organization has access to a kind of data allocation tool which in one day can produce over ten thousand times that the Big Data companies combined would be able to filter through in the next decade. You might think, then, that the problem is merely asymmetric power, and that is certainly a concern, but it isn't the main concern. The main issue is that this organization is actively recruiting (and kidnapping) Antennas from around the world in an effort to find or make one of them into a strong Antenna. In other words, they want a subject who is able not only to see the future, but to manipulate it at will.
balance to the world. I've been working on amassing resources, capital, and building my own team, and now I'm ready. You might ask why I'm posting this here. Wouldn't it be better to keep all this secret? Well, yes, it would be. But that's the problem. Nothing is secret anymore. They know about me and the others, and if I don't make a move, they will. In a way, this is a letter directly to the organization that I know, and I'm coming.
In a different way, I wanted to release this information to the public. There are lots of people out there waking up and realizing that the world they experience is not the one others experience. If you think you might be an Antenna, don't be afraid—you have a special gift that can be controlled. If you want more details on how to control it, or if you're interested in my mission, don't be afraid to reach out. This hasn't always been my life's work, but it is now.
At least until I die.

29M, 5'9, 160lbs
No medications except vitamin d supplement daily, rarely drink alcohol, non smoker
I will preface this post with admitting that I do have a history of health anxiety.
For the past few weeks (perhaps longer, but I've only tuned into it the last few weeks) I have been observing scattered petechiae along the tops of my feet and sometimes ankles. I made the mistake of googling what petechiae is and seeing scary things. I've noticed that this seems to only occur after my daily walks and shower. I suspect the heat and activity from walking and a hot shower is causing my capillaries to burst? The dots come in about a half dozen at a time, and are gone by the next morning, only to be replaced by new ones whenever I go for my daily walk.
Another thing worth mentioning is as a work-from-home desk worker I live a pretty sedentary lifestyle. Recently I’ve begun going for walks and being more active. Perhaps the sudden change in activity is putting stress on my feet and causing this?
No other symptoms to report. The petechiae are so small and short-lived I'm inclined to brush it off as a nothing, but I'm posting here to see if this is a normal body thing other people experience to put my anxiety at ease.
https://ibb.co/wWKv9x9
Due to my olive skin it's difficult to see them on camera. They are needle-point sized and about a dozen in number.
Thanks in advance for any words.

Lore:
1500 years after having Serena, Jeremiah and Elizabeth Alexis would raise yet another daughter, her name was Victoria
They named this one after the Vampire Goddess of War, Victoria Constantina. Though unlike Serena, she would not gain the powers of the Goddess... for now.
Victoria would spend most of her time with her sister before Serena was killed by the humans in the village. She was so angry because of what they did to her, so she dedicated her life to fighting with blades.
The scars on her body were from various fights against many foes, before she learned to craft herself some armour that can withstand more damage than your average set.
She would even seek out help for those who wanted to get rid of evil and a sorcerer named Ellis offered to help her, they were quite the team, killing those who would mean harm to those who couldn't defend themselves.
She has fought in many battles over the years but is yet to find herself someone to settle down with, maybe some day she will find that lucky someone..
Until then, she will continue fighting those cruel monsters, defending innocents and saving towns. Tearing apart anyone who stops her from doing her job.
Though as the years pass, she grows noticeably stronger, even gaining abilities like being able to make her blade grow in size, set on fire, cut through any material.
She would eventually learn how to cast magic, like fireballs, flame aura, fire breath and all other powerful magical abilities.
No-one would ever stand a chance against this fearless and badass warrior in battle.

I was looking into buying some 97s but i have wide feet and some shoes give me really blister(for example air max tw),should I go up a size or opt for anothed sneaker.

We have had our cornsnake since it was very small, and it has always eaten frozen mice or frozen fuzzy rats. However, she has recently stopped. I have tried warming it, making it move, etc. She looks interested, but after investigating is like - nope! She ate a live mouse from PetSmart, but rejected a similarly size rat from a local store (although she did strike it repeatedly, but never wrapped it). I prefer frozen because I understand they are much safer in regards of disease risk, etc.
The only change I have noticed is that she is much more active. Until recently, she stayed hidden in the Aspen bedding. No she comes out and explores her enclosure. She also had quite the growth spurt. I'd say she is about 2.5 feet long now.

proof up for trade are two beautiful diamond rings with natural si clarity diamonds both rings have had the gold and diamonds tested to be true... the size on both of them are size 8 pinky rings i assume....asking 1500 for the 14k and 2000 for the 21k ring. trade for equal value in silver eagles or gold eagles.... pictures these ring are very chunky and made well very fancy pictures don't do them any justice ... will sell but only for ETH or bitcoin thur coinbase but prefer to trade.... these rings are bling bling! let me know if you have any question or just need more pictures... thank you for taking the time to look at my post... BE SAVE FELLAS KEEP PASSWORDS TO YOUR SELF ONLY!!! DONT FALL VICTIMS TO SCAMS!!!

Seba CJ2 + Intuition liners sizing question:
NOTE: I made a video explaining this and showing it visually, so please feel free to watch instead of reading for more clarity: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMLRyhfMW9w&ab_channel=PoznicTraining
I'm new to wizard skating and just got my first used setup, and need some help with sizing issues I'm having. Here goes:

• My feet are 26.5cm long, and super wide.
  
• Bought a used pair of plastic CJ2's in size 9 with the stock liners, but am about to order Intuition Premium liners. When I use them with the stock liner, the length is great, but my toes are just a tiny bit cramped, and, more importantly, they squeeze the middle of foot really badly. Even if I barely lace them at all and barely pull on the strap, it still hurts a bit, and if I lace them and pull the strap enough to feel any real support, it's very painful, to the point where my foot cramps and I have to take them off after just a bit of skating.
  
• So my options are:
  

1. Gut the CJ2's and try them with the Intuition Premium liner. My fear is that while I've heard they're thinner and therefore have more space, when I put my hand into the boot, there's already almost no padding on the part that's around the part of my foot that hurts, so I doubt I could gain much at all in terms of that width. I have heard, though, that the Intuition is also thinner in the back, so my foot might slide back a bit and therefore have more width in the front?
   
2. Resell the CJ2's used and buy a new pair of CJ2's or CJ2 Primes without liner to use with the Intuition liners and hope the size up increases enough width to make them comfortable, without being so long that I'm swimming in them.
   

A part of me would like to gut the CJ2's I own and try them with the Intuition liner, but am nervous that if I do that and it's still too tight, I'll be reselling a pair of gutted CJ2's with no liner at all, and surely losing some money compared to reselling them with the stock liner in there in great condition. On the other hand, if I but new CJ2's in a size bigger and they end up being too big, I'll have lost even more money.
Ok, if you've read this far, THANK YOU! My questions are:

1. If you've gutted CJS'2 for Intuition Premium liners, did you experience a noticeable increase in WIDTH through the middle of your foot?
   
2. With my feet measuring 26.5cm, I was going to order the liners in the 26-26.5 size, but read a few people saying they went one size up and were more comfortable. Thoughts?
   

Thanks so much in advance, super grateful for any suggestions anyone has!

Tldr: A critical SYNDE coalition home hole is burned to the ground by HAWKS and hundreds of billions are lost or safelogged.

On Starting Points

One of the more contentious elements of any major conflict is identifying when, precisely, it actually began. In EVE, as IRL, that is particularly challenging given the breadth of metagaming which takes place. Did the Wormhole War begin when SYNDE decided last summer that they wanted to replace HAWKS as the dominant high-class wormhole group and committed to making that a reality? Did it begin when they solidified their alliance with the Initiative? When they build their wormhole coalition? When they seeded HAWKS home with capitals? Any of those, had they been out in the open, would likely have triggered open hostilities. But those plans and the steps towards their ultimate objective were carefully and smartly hidden from view.
The widespread SYNDE coalition assault on HAWKS C5 and C6 holes began on March 24^th. With the information we now have available to us, the real start of the war was likely the eviction of Voidlings during the first week of March 2024. HAWKS and their future allies were almost certainly unaware of the significance of that eviction, but leaked internal SYNDE comms put truth to the notion that SYNDE viewed that as a critical first step in isolating and crippling HAWKS. It was, then, the first overt act of war by SYNDE – though its place in that broader campaign remained shrouded for several weeks.
Voidlings is a small to midsize wormhole group. A few years ago, they were a growing low class wormhole group living in a C2 with HS and C3 statics. In 2022, they moved into a new home, a C5 wormhole with a C5 static. For non-wormholers, nearly every high class PVP group lives in a C5 with a C5 static. C5 space is both where the majority of high class farms are. The abundance of C5 statics means that living on the “C5 Highway” is often the best route to all forms of high class pvp and pve content. Honor brawls also almost exclusively take place in C5 holes.
So Voidlings grew from a low-class group into a high-class group, and they continued recruiting in an effort to become one of the relevant high class PVP groups. Their zkillboard suggests they participated in most traditional high class activities – farming, feeding, fighting, evicting, ganking, skirmishing. It appears they were supported during this period of growth by one or more HAWKS members. As a result of this affiliation they were not approached by SYNDE during their coalition-building period. Instead, they were marked for pre-war eviction both to be a preliminary test of coalition coordination and also to eliminate a potential HAWKS ally. Isolating HAWKS was key to the entire war plan.
SYNDE began seeding the Voidlings home with dreads in Feb 2024, ultimately bringing in 6 to support their eviction. At the appropriate time, a robust joint fleet led by SYNDE but also including key coalition allies TURBO and Stay Feral infiltrated the Voidlings home hole, installed a staging POS and began their eviction. They diligently held hole control, adding another half-dozen capital ships to their arsenal over the next several hours. A Voidlings eviction seemed inevitable, as they simply lacked the manpower and experience needed to prevent a collection of wormhole groups that large from evicting them. As is often the case when a home hole is under threat of eviction, batphones rang out across wormhole space. HAWKS, NOVAC and SL0W answered the call for Voidlings. The future SYNDE coalition was on already on standby to support this eviction if necessary, as well as future neutral LUPUS. SYNDE had also secured a commitment from the Initiative to support should the need arise.
At first, it did not appears that the batphoning was likely to change anything. SYNDE maintained diligent hole control, not permitting either Voidlings or any allies from bringing in ships or pilots via the Voidlings static. HAWKS rage rolled from their home to get into the Voidlings home, but was unsuccessful.
For the non-wormholers, when you rage roll a C5 static in order to connect with a specific C5 wormhole, you have a 1 in 531 chance of getting connected to that specific hole with each rage roll. Rolling into a specific hole requires days of 24/7 rage rolling and even then the odds are against you. Wormhole groups really only engage in this level of commitment for really high-level situations, such as the historical eviction of HK’s home hole Rage back in 2018.
Midway through the eviction, however, a frig hole popped connecting the Voidlings home with Horde space. HAWKS, NOVAC and SL0W immediately burned in shuttles to that frig hole, and SYNDE was unable to stop the vast majority of them from jumping into the hole and docking in the besieged Voidlings fort.
Voidlings leadership distributed their home defense handout Ravens to their comrades and the stage was set for a glorious home eviction defense fight. SYNDE and friends had a large 100-ship Barghest fleet supported by nearly a dozen capitals (dreads/fax) while Voidlings and friends could field 100 cruise Ravens with FAX logi and nearly two dozen long-range dreads. Range control and capital placement was understood by both sides’ FCs to be critical to the outcome of the fight. SYNDE had a fleet advantage, but one that could be overcome. Unbeknownst to the Voidlings side, once the frig hole popped SYNDE leadership had invoked their war alliance with Initiative, The Initative pinged and mobilized a 200-man Tengu fleet, travelling quickly to the wormhole chain’s entrance. Jumping in, the Initiative fleet docked in a nearby SYNDE farm and waited.
As a critical citadel timer approached, SYNDE FC Cyrus Kurush fleet warped dreads to range the full Barghest comp along with them. Bubbles exploded all over the grid, aiming to stop the Voidlings defense fleet from warping to a good position. This was an effective stratagem, as SYNDE knew that the Voidlings defense fleet would rely on FAX logi – so pinging around grid was not a viable option. The Voidlings fleet needed a clean warp-in, to a position favorable for their cruise Ravens. The dreads began bashing the fortizar, forcing the Voidlings fleet to commit the fleet or watch their citadel burn. The Ravens and their FAX logi aligned and warped, accepting a mediocre initial position that would permit the SYNDE dreads to apply well. Once the FAX landed, the HAWKS FC leading the Voidlings fleet called for all dreads to undock, and they were warped in to support this all-in defense effort. Those dreads landed, activated siege modules, and began primarying the SYNDE dreads.
After one SYNDE dread exploded and another started taking damage, the trap was sprung. Reports on both comms noted that a 200-man tengu fleet was on dscan. Confusion turned into delight on SYNDE comms and resigned frustration on Voidlings comms as the Initiative fleet landed on grid and immediately began fragging Ravens. What might have been a closely-fought battle quickly turned into a complete rout. Voidlings was able to extract a small number of dreads – but the butcher’s toll was a heavy one. Voidlings – having supplied all the ships used by the defenders – lost the entire Raven fleet and nearly all the capitals, for a total of 327b lost against 1117b killed. https://br.evetools.org/related/31001880/202403020300
The remainder of the eviction proceeded to plan, and all Voidlings citadels were destroyed. SYNDE celebrated a successful test run of their broader vision and campaign. In recent leaks that cover the aftermath, SYNDE lead Cyrus Kurush noted that although SYNDE had shown they could take on HAWKS alone, they would take advantage of their massive alliance to simply speed the broader war goal of taking all the HAWKS high class farms and taking their rightful place atop a New Wormhole Oder.

On Rallying Cries and Motivations

This leads to another critical element for how the war would unfold. Wars in EVE are won by motivated pilots first, and a war chest second. For some time, SYNDE and their primary allies had planted the seeds of resentment towards HAWKS among their members. This is not a challenging task, as most wormhole groups generally dislike each other to begin with. In casus belli discussions with HAWKS immediately prior to the war, and in coalition and leadership meetings with their side, SYNDE was fairly consistent about their war aims: take all HAWKS C6 farms, take HAWKS C5 farms, and take HAWKS home. Those farms were to be distributed to SYNDE and their allies, although the specifics were studiously avoided in discussions.
The leak of the SYNDE pre-war CTA gives real insight into members motivations going into the war. Typically, pre-war CTA meetings in EVE are full of hype, energy and enthusiasm. The Synde CTA, by contrast, seemed a much more pragmatic event. Members were concerned about their current farms, about the plan to deploy out of home and into a C6 staging, about working with blues, and about their ability to participate in NPSI fleets during the war. SYNDE lead Cyrus Kurush needed to make clear several times that the expectation was that even though many SYNDE members were also members of other LS and NS groups, they were expected to devote their full effort and focus to the upcoming war against HAWKS. It is almost impossible to take away from that CTA meeting anything other than a rather shocking lack of enthusiasm for the war from SYNDE line members.

The War in Heaven

On the other hand, HAWKS motivations were much easier to discern. This War presented an existential threat. In the eyes of the SYNDE coalition, HAWKS farms and home were both forfeit. Everything they had built over the preceding decade was destined for destruction. Isolated and outnumbered, this would be the ultimate test of HAWKS members’ commitment. The sudden and shocking rebirth of Hard Knocks was mirrored by a large number of longterm HAWKS members also resubbing.
Another critical and perhaps overlooked element of motivations on HAWKS side was the war vs peace element. Although “peace” in wormhole space is a decidedly violent affair in general, with pretty much every group killing every other group on a daily basis, it had been many years since there was a major, sustained conflict in wormhole space. Nullsec often differentiates between “Skirmish FCs” and “Strat FCs”, with the former leading normal day-to-day fleets of battlecruiser sized ships or smaller, and the latter leading the heavy fleets, cap fleets, super fleets or the sizeable, complicated fleets deployed in major conflicts. In the cartel world that is wormhole space, it might be more appropriate to differentiate between “Territory FCs” and “War FCs”. The former freely leads the wide range of fleets that fight, gank, camp and brawl throughout wormhole space on a daily basis. The latter wants to lead larger, more complicated fleets in direct support of a broader strategic initiative. In gaming as IRL, it is normal for highly skilled players to want to be challenged – and at some point, the normal day-to-day fights no longer satisfies those urges. In some cases, that leads to corps fading away (HK), in others, it leads to limited participation (many HAWKS members/FCs).
When this Wormhole War kicked off, it was promptly dubbed “The War in Heaven” by the HAWKS/HK side. This name refers directly to the biblical conflict between two rival groups of Angels – that led by Michael, and that led by Satan. Revelation 12:7-10:

7 Then war broke out in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. 8 But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven. 9 The great dragon was hurled down—that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him.

It is not particularly challenging to figure out which side HAWKS was associating themselves with, given that the name of their CEO is Michael1995.
Perhaps more pragmatically, among members in both HAWKS and the reborn HK, this war was indeed a gift from Heaven above – a chance to dive into a massive, complicated campaign against a foe who was willing to violate wormhole norms in order to achieve their goals. During the first two weeks when HAWKS farms were burning, there is a sense that many of the HAWKS and HK leads were genuinely giddy about the opportunity to take the field and leverage all their accumulated skills, knowledge and experience against an increasingly-reviled opponent. Yes, things looked dire from the outside but internally, there was a mixture of enthusiasm and cautious optimism.

Headshots and Flipping

During normal wormhole fights, both brawls and skirmishes, it is generally considered poor form to headshot the other side’s FC. It happens sometimes, but is definitely looked down upon in the wormhole community. This is the sort of norm that disappears in the context of a large war, or any sort of existential threat situation.
At the strategic level, “headshotting” generally refers to destroying or debilitating the other side’s capacity to fight by taking home holes or staging holes. This would be a key element in the HAWKS strategy, and one surprisingly absent from the SYNDE side. From the very first week, HAWKS looked to take advantage of any opportunity, however fleeting, to headshot SYNDE and their allies. The early ATRAX eviction was the first example of this. It would not be the last, not by a long shot.
Another key tactic is flipping. Not flipping as in changing sides, but rather flipping as in unanchoring and then re-anchoring an Upwell citadel. Recall that when a citadel dies in a wormhole, every pilot’s possessions that remain in that citadel drop as loot cans on the grid. 100% loot drop, 100% of the time. Over time, as pilots join and then leave a group, hangar containers accumulate. Over the years, in successful wormhole groups, this frozen hangar trash can reach into the tens or hundreds of billions. This can make evicting a wormhole resident or group an increasingly attractive over time. A hole that has been owned for a year will not have much loot drop. One owned for many years will likely have a great deal more.
Years ago, intrepid wormhole residents realized that a good way to counter this mechanic was to “flip” their citadels: unanchor, get all the AFG/left corp loot for yourself, then re-anchor. There is risk to this, but for a pvp corp that maintains hole control, the risk is quite minimal.
HAWKS had lived in their current home for nearly a decade. A large, successful group like HAWKS accumulates a large amount of hangar wealth over a period like that, much of it frozen as members AFG or leave corp. During the first week of the War, HAWKS recognized this large oversight and unanchored all the structures in their home hole. A neutral observer might have thought that HAWKS were self-evicting. Through their spy, SYNDE knew that they were planning to flip them and stay in the fight. Unwilling to entertain a HAWKS home eviction at this early stage in the war, SYNDE watched as HAWKS unanchored all their citadels and replaced them with a dozen newly anchored fortizars – and clearing their citadel grid of thousands of loot cans. A steady stream of DSTs transiting in and out of HAWKS home confirmed that wealth was quickly transferred out to kspace.
In that first week, by “flipping” their citadels, HAWKS eliminated the majority of the financial incentives that generally come with evicting a pvp corp’s home hole.

Seeding an Apple

During the period where HAWKS farms were burning and SYNDE was soaring, on Tuesday April 2^nd, HAWKS rolled into the SUGAR home hole. Some of SUGAR’s pvp toons were supporting SYNDE, some were farming, others were out participating in NPSI roams in kspace. Few of them were in their home hole. HAWKS sent in a bait RF fleet of a trio of Leshaks while at the same time pinging for a Nighthawk fleet. SUGAR panic pinged as the Leshaks began RFing one of the many citadels in their home. With confusion reigning, SUGAR undocked a kitchen sink fleet including armor and shield, capital and subcapital. Once SUGAR began engaging, HAWKS brought in their heavy shield fleet. HAWKS then began dismantling the haphazard SUGAR home defense fleet, as captured in the first 3 minutes of this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ZKgFPbSaLk
After fragging much of the SUGAR defenders, HAWKS proceeded to reinforce every citadel in the SUGAR home. SUGAR lost 35bn in ships in a one-sided fight. SYNDE was dismayed by the poor SUGAR showing. https://br.evetools.org/b66452e6803aec30012694316
Those structures all repaired over the coming week.
On April 12^th , HAWKS returned and again reinforced all SUGAR structures, this time with no opposition. Following that second round of reinforces, SUGAR pinged and directed its members to return to home and adopt a defensive posture with rigorous hole control to prevent a HAWKS return.
Many SUGAR members by this point were now opposing their corp’s direction. They certainly disliked HAWKS, but they had historically disliked SYNDE and their allies just as much. Joining them struck many members as a short-sighted, unwise adventure. They had actively participated in reinforcing and blowing up HAWKS structures, only to discover that SYNDE was most often dropping replacement citadels as they got cleared. SUGAR line members felt they were doing a lot of work for little or no benefit.
On April 13^th, HAWKS rolled into the SUGAR home hole for a third time – this time with amor timers only hours away. SUGAR immediately sought to roll that incoming wormhole, throwing yacht after yacht at it, as well as a lone praxis. They were able to crit the hole despite losing yachts every few passes.
Sigils are a common ship used most often by Nullsec farmers looking to roll wormholes that threaten their peaceful farming, These Sigils are referred to by wormholers almost universally as “suicide sigils”. The SUGAR FC directed his members to get into Sigils, undock, nullify, and warp to the hole. That hole needed to die. It needed to die now. “Even mains?” one member – Scott Appleblade - inquired. “Even mains,” replied the FC.
Scott hopped into the sigil, and warped to the hole, forgetting to nullify. He landed in the bubble, and was immediately fragged by the HAWKS on grid. https://zkillboard.com/kill/116986540/
Scott, now sitting in Jita, asked for a route back into his home. The FC replied they had no kspace entries at the minute. Scott asked if one could be found. The FC replied not now, quiet, we’re still dealing with this hole. Scott logged off, seething.
Scott had not wanted this war from the very start. Scott had recently upgrade from a Class 3 farm to a Class 5 farm of his own. Scott enjoyed farming combat sites in Leshaks and dreaming of a brighter future. Scott had always dreamed he might one day save up enough to afford a faction FAX: the Loggerhead. He knew they didn’t make much sense and were rarely used, but Scott loved the “Poggerhead” meme. Scott prided himself on his memes. He would often meet people and knew right away that they would become a meme. That was just life, but an elite meme could memorialize that. Scott just wanted to undock from his home fort in a Loggerhead and enjoy the moment. That seemed less and less likely now that the SUGAR home was being reinforced weekly. SUGAR leadership was either absent or, frankly, being dicks. Scott was over it. He had worked too hard. He deserved better. His fellow SUGAR members did, too.
Scott waited until later in the day when he was able to get a kspace entry for his main back into SUGAR’s home chain. He flew his inty in, still seething but with a plan for exacting revenge coalescing in Scott’s mind.
For the non-wormholers, it is important to explain that when you are a member of a wormhole corp, you have a lot more access to corp assets than you likely ever would in a Nullsec or Lowsec corp. Due to wormhole mechanics, wormhole corps almost always have a “Shared” corp hangar in each citadel where commonly used ships and modules are available to all members. This usually includes rolling ships, and handout pvp ships, among other things.
Scott docked in their home fort. He hesitated for a minute as he surveyed those familiar surroundings, but then the rage came back. He just wanted to farm, and now he might lose that. All because of SUGAR leadership. He knew his corp mates understood and would appreciate his actions. Scott proceeded to move everything in the SUGAR shared corp hangar to his personal hangar. He did a double take – he had just acquired over 30b of assets. That would go a long way towards a down payment on the Loggerhead if he could get that to a trade hub.
One good idea begets another, and Scott repackaged every assembled ship he had just taken. He then put the most valuable elements into his two DSTs. He shuttled those out to Jita and back, and then repeated the round trip several times. During the monotony of the transits, Scott realized that nobody – not leadership, not his corp mates – had noticed anything. Even though he was now much wealthier, SUGAR was still in need of a wakeup call.
As he warped to the next wormhole, it hit him – the bookmarks! This is another major difference between Nullsec / Lowsec and wormhole groups. In kspace, one can navigate very easily, or at least with confidence about where you’re going. In wormholes, one needs corp mates scanning wormholes and making bookmarks, basically a temporary map that wormhole pilots use to navigate the ever-changing wormhole landscape. All members need access to those bookmarks, and the ability to create, edit and delete them.
Scott deleted them. All of them. No more going to help SYNDE. No more warping your dread to a safe because HAWKS had bubbled the fort. No more finding your way back after getting rolled out. With no bookmarks, SUGAR would need to stop and consider where they were and why. Scott was pleased with the neat metaphor. At least he thought it was a metaphor. Might also be an analogy. He wasn’t sure, but he was sure it was brilliant.
His DSTs landed on the next hole and Scott jumped. It was then that Scott noticed he had no bookmarks in the next wormhole. That knowledge, combined with his decision not to fit probe launchers on either of his DSTs, was not a positive development. Scott, priding himself on his judgment, weighed his current situation against all he had achieved this evening – over 20b of ships and mods in Jita, and a powerful statement to SUGAR leadership. That was worth the loss of two DSTs that only had about 1.5B combined between them. Scott self-destructed the DSTs, returned to Jita, and went to bed contemplating a brighter future.

When Espionage Meets Opportunity

Prior to shutting the doors a few years ago, Hard Knocks had been regarded in the wormhole community as the top wormhole group for espionage. In a world where information is power, they have always had a remarkable abundance of critical information. Unlike HAWKS, HK was aware of the SYNDE plans and coalition building not long after they were conceived. As allies joined the SYNDE effort, HK sought to penetrate those groups. SUGAR accepted a key HK spy in January of this year. Over the next two months, this spy would quickly work his way up the SUGAR hierarchy, demonstrating strong FC and leadership abilities. When the war broke out, he was one of the main FCs. His background in HK and HAWKS affiliated groups was no concern for SUGAR leadership as they committed to the SYNDE coalition.
When Scott pilfered everything from SUGAR shared and deleted all bookmarks, the spy noticed both. He consulted with his HK mates and decided it might be a fantastic opportunity. The spy reached out to SUGAR directors and offered to do his part in resolving the matter – they needed to cut off access to Scott and his alts, they needed to do it 5 minutes ago and they needed to tighten things up. He knew how to do it, and he was happy to help. There was only one SUGAR director online. He was unsure of how to best resolve the Scott situation, so he called up the CEO on his cell. The CEO and director huddled up and agreed that their best FC was the man to fix it. They gave director roles to a spy who’d been in corp less than 3 months. During a war. A war against HAWKS and HK.
SUGAR members woke up the morning of Sunday April 14^th, logged on, and discovered that every one of the structures in their home hole had been transferred to an HK holding corp. Their implant sets were all gone. Every single one. They were unable to dock. Most of their combat pilots were not even in their home hole. What was in the SUGAR home was a massive HAWKS coalition fleet.
And NOVAC was in it.

Stay on the Sidelines and You Will Burn

SYNDE’s diplomatic efforts had been widespread for the months leading up to the Wormhole War. They had enlisted the support of both large wormhole groups and small in building their expansive anti-HAWKS coalition. Two of the biggest pvp groups in wormhole space had consistently declined their overtures: LUPUS and NOVAC. Strong, independent, brawling groups, they did not like HAWKS, but they also didn’t like SYNDE. In proper cartel fashion, they were not interested in helping either of those groups achieve more power or territory. Truth be told they wanted both sides to lose. Better to remain neutral and pick the best course at a later time.
SYNDE did not push much until the first two weeks of the war. During that first week of burning HAWKS farms, according to SYNDE lead Cyrus Kurush, 16 or 17 C6 farms were transferred from HAWKS to NOVAC. LUPUS was the beneficiary of a smaller number of HAWKS farms. It was clear that under the weight of the broad offensive, many HAWKS members had opted to sell their farms to neutral wormhole groups. In most cases, it was HAWKS members selling farms to long-term EVE friends in other wormhole groups.
Cyrus Kurush was livid. He had already earmarked every HAWKS C6, and now many of them seemed to be passing out of the war and into the hands of neutrals who continued to refuse to join his coalition. He directed his lead diplo Zelvig to reengage with NOVAC and clearly relay his message. Zelvig did so, informing NOVAC of two key things: one, further receipt of any HAWKS farm would be viewed as an act of war, and two, while NOVAC was welcome to remain a friendly neutral during this early part of the campaign, the C6s they had already received from HAWKS should be seen as being held in trust for the wormhole community. Following the now-inevitable HAWKS eviction and removal from high class space, NOVAC would have to settle their farm accounts with SYNDE. With his customary enthusiasm, Zelvig gave NOVAC a timeline for their decision to join the coalition: as soon as the last HAWKS C6 farm fell, SYNDE would turn to the NOVAC C6s unless they had already joined. Zelvig estimated that gave NOVAC 2 or 3 more weeks to make a decision.
NOVAC made their decision that night, informing HAWKS leadership that they would be joining the HAWKS side. They asked only that they have a week to get their group organized and prepared. At the end of that week, NOVAC joined HAWKS, HK, Voidlings, and 418 in infiltrating a Vulture fleet into SUGAR’s home hole.

Sugar Free: J104037 Bleeds and Falls

Two things happened from the jump: HAWKS took and held hole control in SUGAR’s home hole while infiltrating additional pilots, and SYNDE pinged hard to get their coalition members to consolidate in Waffle House, the C6 hole that they had made their staging at the start of the war. It was chosen due to its C6 static, which permitted SYNDE to roll into HAWKS C6 farms and reinforce then destroy them at will.
With the HAWKS fleet swelling in numbers with NOVAC’s addition to their alliance, they openly docked in SUGAR’s citadels – now owned by HK. SUGAR members could only watch in horror as the citadel showed more and more reds docking in their fortizar.
SYNDE began rage-rolling in earnest, hoping to connect to SUGAR’s home. Cyrus Kurush was eager to test the new coalition Cyclone Fleet Issue doctrine they had theorycrafted to counter the HAWKS Vuilture doctrine. He preferred their blaster Megathron Navy Issue doctrine, but that had proven ill-suited to deal with the Vultures in the earlier brawl in the HK staging C6.
As would happen often throughout this campaign, luck favored the bold. SYNDE rolled into SUGAR’s home at a high point for SYNDE fleet participation. SYNDE immediately jumped sabres into system and fully bubbled their “in” hole, giving them the time they needed to warp their entire fleet to the hole. They avoided a repeat of the prior fight where they were unable to get their entire fleet in due to poor hole control. The full SYNDE fleet jumped through the hole, rolling it as they sent in the full 3b+ in ship mass. All told, over 150 Cyclone Fleet Issues flooded into the SUGAR home, along with support. The HAWKS fleet undocked to reports of 20 dreads on dscan as the SYNDE fleet warped to the (former) SUGAR main fortizar. SUGAR members had logged on the caps they were still able to pilot – some undocked from that forts, others from deep safes in system. As the CFI fleet connected with the increasing dread bomb, siege modules were engaged and the battle was joined.
The fight was a back and forth affair for a short period before some aggressive FCing by the HAWKS/HK/NOVAC FC team forced the SYNDE fleet to extract. At that point, a dynamic unique to wormhole combat emerged. SYNDE, realizing they could not win on grid, focused on extracting as many SUGAR capitals as possible. They would scan the new static C5 connection – as would HAWKS – and then each would race subcap fleets to that new hole and contest it. If SYNDE was able to get there first and keep the hole clear of sabre bubbles, SUGAR would warp their capitals to that hole and jump 3 of them out. That would kill the hole, causing a new static wormhole to appear one minute later where the two sides could repeat the process. With each new static wormhole, SYNDE continued to feed ships and lose combat capability.
A highly comedic situation occurred on one such hole. HAWKS warped their lone rolling carrier to it blind. In so doing, they hoped to be able to jump the carrier and briefly assert hole control – preventing more than one SUGAR cap from getting out, and also giving the HAWKS fleet time to tackle the others. The carrier landed right after the SUGAR caps did – but in a critical communication gap, the SUGAR caps did not know which 3 were supposed to leave on this hole. SYNDE sabres bubbled up, but the carrier was already on the wormhole. It jumped the hole with its prop on. A clamor erupted on SYNDE comms as they awaited guidance about which cap, if any, should leave. The HAWKS rolling carrier burned untouched back to the hole on the other side. A SUGAR Moros Navy Issue, frustrated at the indecision, jumped anyway. Most of the time, that would have rolled the wormhole, trapping the Moros Navy and rolling carrier on the other side. Luckily for the HAWKS carrier, it was a high-mass hole. The wormhole went critical but did not close. The HAWKS rolling carrier jumped back.
The Moros Navy had extracted, but the remaining SUGAR caps were now sitting around the now-dead hole’s bookmark. Many began burning away and out of the bubbles from the SYNDE sabres who had tried to protect that hole. SYNDE FC Cyrus Kurush ordered his sabres to get off the hole and stop bubbling their dreads, and they did. Forgotten in the chaos and indecision, the HAWKS rolling carrier decloaked, aligned out, cycled prop and initiated wrap. It was immediately primaried by both dreads and the SYNDE CFI fleet. Chaotic calls to bubble the carrier were met with hesitation as those same sabres had only recently been told not to bubble. The carrier entered warp as the bubbles were deployed. The carrier pilot shared this video of the bold carrier roll and escape. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DDgzA8J6j44&t
The carrier escape from a heavily bubbled grid marked the final turning point in the SYNDE extraction efforts. HAWKS sabres flooded the grid, tackling most of the SUGAR caps. After more fighting, the SYNDE coalition CFIs extracted from the grid, leaving the caps to their fate. As the caps began exploding and with the HAWKS fleet committed to their destruction, the SYNDE subcap fleet left via the new static.
The final totals for that fight were 48b lost by the HAWKS side, 144b lost by the SYNDE coalition side. https://br.evetools.org/b6633f295132a2a0012c77eb6
SUGAR had extracted 4 dreads, but at a heavy price.

Blue Balls and Explosions

With the clock ticking on the armor and hull timers of the SUGAR structures, SYNDE tried to reset in their C6 staging. Again, they pinged for their coalition to reassemble in that system. Again, they began rolling. That process continued for many hours.
The following day, on April 15^th, SYNDE would roll into the SUGAR home not once but twice. Both times, SYNDE only had a partial CFI fleet docked in their fortizar while the HAWKS side maintained a full Vulture fleet ready to undock on a moment’s notice. The HAWKS, HK and NOVAC leadership team knew that this was a critical moment in the campaign, and every effort was made to complete the SUGAR eviction.
SYNDE rolled into SUGAR’s home twice on April 15^th. And they immediately rolled the connection both times.
SYNDE lead Cyrus Kurush was personally scanning and rolling. He knew exactly what HAWKS had on hand, knew he could not contest for hole control, and just rolled the connection off quietly. Twice.
Cyrus Kurush knew that the integrity of his coalition required him to make every effort to save a key member’s home hole – but he was also very frustrated by SUGAR’s lack of readiness to defend their home. He had expected a lot more caps, more ships, more support. He felt he had beaten the HAWKS fleet in that large initial brawl, and had been let down by SUGAR. He did not want to risk sacrificing another major loss for a group that could not stand on their own two feet.

The Initiative to Regain the Initiative

The SUGAR Fortizar hull timers were on Tuesday, April 16^th.
A key early-war HAWKS ally, a small EUTZ pvp group called Czarna-Kompania, had infiltrated two dreads overnight. Two other groups had brought in one each. That dread force would give HAWKS the flexibility of hitting concurrent hull timers. There were multiple structures that needed to get hit over a two hour period. The dreads would let the HAWKS side bash those citadels while also keeping their subcap fleet free to fight for and maintain hole control if at all possible.
Hours before those timers, disaster struck the HAWKS effort. An A009 wormhole connection popped into the SUGAR home.
For an eviction, the worst possible wormhole connection is an A009 wormhole. It is a 16-hour frigate-sized wormhole that connects to a shattered wormhole that will also have a number of frig holes connecting outward to kspace systems. Frig holes cannot be rolled.
This meant that for the time leading up to the critical hull timers, there would be an unrollable hole into the eviction target, into SUGAR’s home.
By this time, it was clear to all involved parties that SYNDE had a close partnership with the Initiative. Although this was fraying some of the wormhole groups in the coalition, it still afforded SYNDE a chance to salvage the situation. SYNDE lead Cyrus Kurush formed an attack plan with Initiative leadership. During the hours immediately prior to the hull timers, SYNDE would assemble a heavy fleet in their staging, and rage roll for the SUGAR home. The Initiative would form a full bomber fleet, and travel to the C13 shattered wormhole. The second that SYNDE rolled in, they would execute a lethal 3-pronged attack: the SYNDE fleet would explode into the SUGAR home, all remaining SUGAR capitals and subcapitals would undock, and the Initiative bomber fleet would jump the A009. They would time those 3 critical elements based on the location, strength and composition of the HAWKS fleet. It was a good plan. If they could connect those three prongs, they would have 3 times the number that HAWKS could muster. Pings went out and the fleets assembled. Init travelled with a 300 bomber fleet to the shattered hole. SYNDE began rage rolling. About 50 SUGAR pilots sat on logon screen and waited on SYNDE comms.
HAWKS was aware of all of the above. HAWKS, working closely with HK and NOVAC strategists, devised a counter for the two concerning prongs. The SYNDE rolling threat had two counters. Within the SYNDE staging, there was a small fleet of yachts and a seeded, cloaked rolling carrier. In the SUGAR home, another rolling carrier sat ready to suicide roll if needed. Should SYNDE warp their fleet from the fort to a new wormhole, HAWKS was prepared to simultaneously warp both carrier and yachts to that same hole. They were confident they could stop the majority of the SYNDE fleet from making it through the wormhole.
The real threat was the Initiative, and that damned frig hole. HAWKS placed three sniping fleets around the wormhole and dropped a massive number of anchorable bubbles around it. On the hole itself were a mixture of smartbombing battleships and suicide dictors, each orbiting patiently. When the report came of the 300 Initiative bombers entering the shattered hole on the other side, the HAWKS team was ready and waiting.
The Initiative FC team, with a scout already in SUGAR staging, saw all of this. War-seasoned FCs, there was no scenario where they were jumping their bombers into that future charnal house. Unless SYNDE could pull those fleets away from the hole, it was an impossible standoff. The HAWKS battlecruiser fleet could not jump the hole. The Initiative bombers would not jump the hole. The Initiative bombers sat there and waited for SYNDE to roll in.
Meanwhile, in SUGAR staging, citadels came out of reinforce for hull timers and the allied dreads went to work. And everyone else waited. The SYNDE fleet waited on their fort while their FC rage rolled. The Initiative fleet waited in the shattered. The HAWKS alliance fleet waited on the other side of the shattered. One by one, the citadels began blowing up.
The SYNDE fleet stood down. The Initiative left the shattered wormhole and headed back to Fountain. SYNDE had gotten the full Nullsec batphone allied response, but been unable to take advantage of it.
Unconfirmable reports are that the HAWKS alliance looted nearly 200b from the various structures, including a large number of capital ships, on top of the 150b+ exploded. https://br.evetools.org/b661f2a2eddb48200112d82c5 (The three “friendly” caps that were destroyed were looted SUGAR caps that the allies decided to blow up rather than keep and exfiltrate from the hole.)
Some SUGAR members would still try to participate, but SUGAR was done as a fighting unit in the Wormhole War.
The next part will focus on what would become the most important battlefield in the Wormhole War – Waffle House, the SYNDE coalition staging C6.

My feet run about size 13-14 in men's sizes and I can never find anything in women's that fit. Occasionally I'll find some sneakers that I can painfully squeeze into but nothing that actually fits. I know there are some places online that do this but it's always expensive as he'll. Halp lol. Any advice or recommendations are welcome

I never considered myself to be smart, but I never thought I was stupid. As Artemis and I left Athena's oasis, I couldn't help but ponder the enormity of what had just happened. My mind was beginning to clear up and reflection set in as I followed Artemis through solid objects, down rabbit holes, through fire, sleet, and bodies of water.
The fire didn't burn me.
The cold didn't freeze me.
The water didn't drown me.
To think that my stupid human brain caused me to err in judgement to such a degree that I would step into the domain of godhood where I didn't belong... all because I was horny. I cringed the thought away. Yes, it was the hottest thing that had ever happened to me, but the way Athena looked at me; it sent chills down my spine. There would surely be consequences for this, but Artemis had clammed up completely, and wasn't answering my questions.
"Artemis?" I whined. "Hey... I'm sorry. I didn't know this would happen."
She stopped in the middle of the woods. We stood surrounded by a captive audience of oak trees; it was eerily silent. She turned and cast me a long look before walking into one of the larger oaks. I sighed and followed her through it. On the other side, we were back in Thyra under a familiar violet menagerie of stars and planets. She had stopped, finally, sitting down and leaning back.
I stepped in front of her. "Artemis? What, umm... Whatcha doing?"
"Waiting," she said plainly.
I looked around at the desolate canyon.
"... Waiting for what?"
"Judgement," she sighed. "This will be the first place Father will look for me when he hears the news."
"Father?"
"You may know him as Zeus."
A little bit of sweat gathered around my temples. He was the main guy. Like the biggest name in Greek myth. Everyone knows Zeus. But judgement... what was about to happen?
"I thought we were going to go hunt some beast in the Underworld or something." I looked down at my rifle and ran my hand along the length of the barrel. "I was scared at first, but now I want to see what a weapon kissed by Hephaestus can do."
I scoffed. I didn't know where that kind of verbiage came from. Kissed by Hepheastus? What was I, a poet all of the sudden? When I looked up, she looked sick. Her face was sagging and her eyes were lifeless. She leaned back and laid flat on the ground, her arms and legs outstretched as though she were dead.
"I too was eager to hunt," she said in a forlorn tone. "But that was before, in my miserable judgement, I welcomed you into divinity."
That was the first time she'd confirmed it with her own lips and it struck me for the first time that this was truly happening. The weight of it fell on my shoulders and did my level best to suppress it down. I didn't want to think about the implications just yet.
"I thought it was just a blessing," I said, sitting down next to her. "I didn't know there was a limit..."
"Athena tried to pry you from my breast, but you were stuck to it like a stubborn babe. You refused to listen."
"I didn't even realize it!" I defended myself. "Why couldn't you have just blessed me in a different way? Why did it have to be so weird?"
"Each god and goddess may bestow blessings, but for each it is different, and tied to their domain," she answered. "I am the goddess of the hunt, but also of nature, childcare, and birth. My blessing is bestowed as such that reflects my divine purpose." She cast me an annoyed glance, "You are the one who has decided it is weird."
I set the rifle down in front of me and leaned forward, thinking carefully. I didn't want to dig my hole any deeper with Artemis. I didn't need her mad at me too. "I'm sorry," I said finally. "But on earth it's kind of a sexual thing."
"Your species is perverse," she said, closing her eyes. "Am I to blame for that too?"
"No!" I said quickly. "I'm not blaming you for a damn thing, but-"
"The blame lies with me entirely," she cut me off. "I brought you here. I took you to Athena's Oasis. I fed you the milk of the gods with my own breast. Who else is to blame but me? My father will certainly say as much when he finds us."
I swallowed. I didn't know what to do. I was in over my head; way out of my depth to such a degree that I wondered if maybe it was just a good idea to keep quiet and sit still. But I had one question that was burning behind my eyes.
"What's going to happen to you?" I asked.
She opened her eyes and stared at the sky as she contemplated. "... I suppose I'll be reduced to my base components and be remade a more capable daughter. They call it rebirthing."
"Artemis," I said softly. "That sounds like dying."
"There is no death," she refuted. "Only rebirth. I will be remade."
"Yeah, it still sounds like death to me," I pressed.
"It's the closest thing to death that goddess can experience," came a familiar voice from behind me. I turned to see Apollo walking slowly toward us. "Sister, sister," he chanted. "What have you done this time?"
I wasn't overwhelmed by his beauty this time, but I still felt my chest tighten. It was the same feeling as seeing an ex from a long time ago in a public space like the mall or the grocery store. A flutter of something that once was there, but nothing substantial.
"Word will spread," Artemis said, her voice cracking. "And when Father has discovered what I have done, he will do what is right, I am certain of it."
"Will he?" Apollo asked. "Because Father has never been one to overreact, yes?" His tone carried the faintest hint of sarcasm.
Artemis didn't respond.
"I can't help but feel responsible for all of this," I said, getting to my feet. "I'll accept full responsibility."
"That will not be up to you," Artemis said, sitting up and hugging her knees.
"You may assume all the responsibility you like," said Apollo, turning to face me. "But there is not a single god or goddess on Mount Olympus that will accept that. You were a simple-minded human when you erred. It is what your kind does. Would you curse an acorn for falling from a tree?"
"I get it, I get it," I rolled my eyes. "But it's not fair. Artemis didn't know I would fuck up the way I did. She doesn't deserve to die!"
"Make no mistake," Apollo said sternly. "It will not just be her, but Athena and Hephaestus for participating in this little charade." He turned his eyes toward the cracked canyon floor and sighed. "... And of course, I as well."
"No!" Artemis was on her feet.
"I will be punished for failing to alert Father to your wily machinations," he looked up at her. "I turned a blind eye. And I did it while Brian was still a human."
Artemis held his gaze for a second before turning and looking at me. "... The Fates," she whispered.
"The Fates?" I looked between the two of them. "What's going on?"
"Father will speak with the Fates," Artemis said as though in a panic, returning her attention to her brother. "They know all that is and all that will be."
"For humans," Apollo clarified, turning to me. "The Fates have no knowledge concerning the gods and goddesses. But everything that transpired around you while you were human will be a part of their knowledge."
"So Zeus will talk to them..." I began to put it together. "And you'll have no plausible deniability. They'll have seen you interacting with me here."
"Hephaestus and Athena as well," Apollo nodded. "None of us can deny what we've done here." He looked at his sister and scowled. "Because we trusted in her to know what she was doing."
This was a mess. A complete disaster of my own making. I was such an idiot. I should have known better than to trespass against the gods. For had I known that Artemis would pay such a price, I would have never chased such an audacious undertaking. I held one hand to my head and felt that same nausea that had overtaken me back at the oasis. My inner dialogue was changing. I was thinking in a voice that wasn't really my own. I could feel myself slowly changing somehow.
"Forgive me," Artemis said to her brother.
"He may," came another voice to her left. In the blink of an eye, a newcomer had manifested. "But I will not. I trusted you to know better, Artemis."
After only a moment, I recognized him. It was Hephaestus, but human-sized and not all glowy and scary. He also bore a nasty scar across the right side of his face. I hadn't noticed it in the shadowy forge, but it was distracting. He stared daggers at Artemis, his strong arms folded across his chest.
Artemis buried her face in her hands. "I did not mean to risk you all alongside me," she sobbed. "I am so ashamed."
"As well you should be," Apollo spoke furiously. "Father already detests Hephaestus. He will be rebirthed as well."
"He detests me," Hepheastus, turned to Apollo, "Because I dared to suggest he was wrong about something. Though, if you ask me, the old man has hated me from the moment he laid eyes on me."
"Stop, stop, stop," I lifted my hands. "Just... let's just think about this for a second. Why do we have to wait around for Zeus to find out?" I asked. "We could just, y'know, get out of here. Nobody has to be killed over this, we can just leave, can't we? He doesn't know anything yet!"
"You imbecile," Apollo seethed, putting his face inches from mine. "You know nothing about anything. Keep your moronic human notions to yourself for so long as they persist within you."
That broke my heart. I wrestled with the emotions that roiled within me. I took a step back and inhaled, holding the tears back. I wasn't going to cry. I was a grown-ass man. So why did I feel like a toddler in time-out?
"Actually," came a new voice from behind Artemis. We turned to see Athena caressing her chin thoughtfully. "While his primal human instincts compell him to flee... in this case, it might not be the worst idea."
"You've hit your head, yes?" Apollo asked. "You would take a human's side? So much for a goddess of wisdom. Take your council elswehere."
"Mind your manners, Brother," Artemis spoke up. "That is Athena you are addressing. You will hear her speak."
We all stood in a moment of tense silence. Athena began to pace around the gathered gods, patiently choosing her words before she spoke them.
"Father has had a hot temper as of the last few hundred years," she began. "Don't act like you all haven't been weary of him; that you haven't shared whispers of concern with your siblings."
Everyone turned their eyes away from her, as though unwilling to accept it. But I could tell from the expressions on their faces that she was telling the truth. Something was going on with Zeus, it seemed, but what? Why were his kids so afraid of him?
"He has been rebirthing gods and goddesses for small offenses as of late," Athena went on. "I, for one, have been living in fear of his ire for some time now. He is not the same as he once was."
"Do not speak ill of Father," Artemis came to Zeus's defense. "He is facing difficulties!"
"That is..." Apollo trailed off. "A hefty accusation," he said finally, staring the goddess down.
Athena stared back with equal ferocity. "Then why, Apollo, did you keep your sister's little venture to yourself?"
He remained quiet. I didn't know the gods bickered like this. I always assumed they were some big happy family just living in paradise, but it seemed like there was at least some degree of treachery afoot.
Afoot?
I winced.
"Your silence says it all," Athena smirked before turning serious. "What little empathy Father once possessed is gone. We can all wait around to be rebirthed to Father's liking," she passed her eyes over us. "Or we can flee. The worst thing that can happen to us is rebirth either way."
"I have yearned to leave his gaze for eons now," said Hephaestus. "I will join in an escape effort."
"There would be little effort required," Apollo announced. "There has never been an attempt to leave the pantheon. It would likely be as simple as walking through an open doorway. But this discussion is traitorous; blasphemers, each and every one of you."
"I will run with Athena," Artemis announced.
"Sister!" Apollo scolded.
"Athena is more than my sister, she is my best friend," Artemis balled her fists. "If it were anyone else who suggested it, I may not have listened. But Athena's wise words have guided me through great trials."
"I am with them," Hephaestus said to Apollo. "You can stay here with the accident," he eyed me angrily.
Artemis looked as though she wanted to come to my defense, but ultimately said nothing.
Another arrow through my heart.
"Hephaestus," I began my sentence without anywhere for it to go. "I... I might not be..." I flailed. Suddenly, I had a question. "Wait," I pointed at him. "Why can I understand you now?"
"Because, dear Brian," Athena answered for him, walking up to me and placing a hand against my forehead. "You are a god now. It doesn't matter whether Hephaestus likes it or not, you are divinity born of mankind."
"Well," I glanced around without moving my head. "What am I the god of?"
"She is checking," Apollo said. "Be quiet while she divinates your domains."
I felt a tingling sensation around my forehead. It tickled, and I couldn't help but giggle a little. It made Artemis smile and my heart soared.
"You are..." Athena spoke, closing her eyes, her concentration tightening. "The god of indulgence and isolation," she announced, opening her eyes and smiling at me. She removed her hand and stepped back, leaving me in a stunned silence.
"Did you just call me fat and lonely?" I blurted out.
Athena lifted her hand to her mouth and dimples manifested on her cheeks. Artemis did the same, but couldn't stifle her laughter. Apollo snickered and turned his head. I stood there with my mouth wide open as Hephaestus began to chuckle to himself. But he didn't look happy about it. He would smile and laugh before scowling it away, and then start laughing again as though he were being tickled while in a terrible mood. The others adopted an expression not dissimilar to mine and stared at the god of the forge.
"I can't stop," Hephaestus managed between breathy laughter.
"By the stars," Athena murmured. "I don't believe I've ever seen Hephaestus laugh."
"Nobody has," Apollo said in equal wonderment.
"That is your sense of humor?" Artemis asked, aghast. "It is so... childish! So unexpected!"
"I have no sense of humor!" Hephaestus barked, finally getting his laughter under control. "He did something to me!"
"I didn't do anything!" I threw my arms up.
"Perhaps," Athena smiled at me. "He also holds the domain of humor. I didn't search for it."
"Great," I said angrily. "I'm 'Hilarious', the fat and ugly Greek god of comedy, I love it."
Hephaestus exploded in a renewed fit of laughter, once more prompting the others to laugh again. I stood there in the center of it and frowned.
"Can we get out of here now?" I shouted.
They laughed harder.
This sucked.
Writing Prompt Submitted by u/blablador-2001

Been curious about these cheap mini theremins for years, they go for closer to 60$ on most sites but recently found one for 31$ (it was actually 26$ on sale) the reviews on other sites are pretty mixed mostly due to a lack of instructions (this one did come with basic instructions at least) so I was hesitant to order one but after spending some time with it am mostly impressed: https://www.aliexpress.us/item/3256806375688167.html
Here's a video that goes through all the sounds in it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=svGYV8ZEd00
Some thoughts:
It uses mini antennae so the sensitivity range is relatively small, but it has a lot of settings to tweak the response of both antennae and is fun to play anyways. It does have some basic quantization (just 0-5 settings) but so far it seems to mostly smooth the change in pitch a bit and set to 0 is the classic theremin sound
It has a bunch of sounds, 71 to be exact ranging from basic waves (sine/saw/square) to weirder acoustic sounds. Some are pretty similiar but at least a few were surprisingly impressive/unique, the surf modes are perfect.
Some of the acoustic sounds respond differently with the volume antennae working as a trigger (you have to wave your hand back and forth to trigger notes) while the other controls pitch, takes some getting used to but works pretty well
It even has a tiny built in speaker, the audio/phones out disables it and the vol can be set from 0-99 (I mixed up the antennae/audio out jacks at first and was worried it was broken before double checking)
You can set the base pitch across the full range (c1 to f#7) and it displays the frequency & notes as you play including a keyboard visualization, also has a basic oscilloscope
It doesn't save settings when shut down, but it doesn't take long to tweak the settings though it does have a lot of them. That seems like the main downside so far.
Haven't tried any nicer theremins to compare it to but can tell it will be a lot of fun to use. Got it to run into a semi modular rig and blend with other sounds so the mini size is perfect, will see how sturdy it is as it does seem fragile but for the price you could always build a nicer case for it.
Really the only thing it lacks is delay/reverb, but ran into some FX it would be hard to tell it's a 30$ theremin vs a 300$ one. Might have to buy a second one eventually for dueling theremins, or hell get 4 of them and play 2 with feet.
Side note but might measure the voltage of the audio output, would be cool if you could use it as a CV source to use motion to modulate other signals. Either way definitely recommend it for anyone who's been curious to try a theremin but hesitant to spend too much.

Hey! My name is Nick, but my friends call me Nick. I'm 6 feet tall, I do work for a bank, I'm white, I have brown hair and brown eyes, I'm a little on the heavy side, and I think I'm cute. My favorite smell is coconut, my favorite color is purple, my favorite hobbies are playing games, watching sports, and food. I love to cook, i love to eat, I just hate to clean. I wear size 12 shoes, but size 13 boots. I drive a Subaru Outback. I have no pets at the moment. I live in the southern half of the US. Right now I'm wearing all black. It's also raining outside.
Anyway, that's enough things to write to satisfy my brain at the moment. Talk to you soon?

Hey! My name is Nick, but my friends call me Nick. I'm 6 feet tall, I do work for a bank, I'm white, I have brown hair and brown eyes, I'm a little on the heavy side, and I think I'm cute. My favorite smell is coconut, my favorite color is purple, my favorite hobbies are playing games, watching sports, and food. I love to cook, i love to eat, I just hate to clean. I wear size 12 shoes, but size 13 boots. I drive a Subaru Outback. I have no pets at the moment. I live in the southern half of the US. Right now I'm wearing all black. It's also raining outside.
Anyway, that's enough things to write to satisfy my brain at the moment. Talk to you soon?

Hey! My name is Nick, but my friends call me Nick. I'm 6 feet tall, I do work for a bank, I'm white, I have brown hair and brown eyes, I'm a little on the heavy side, and I think I'm cute. My favorite smell is coconut, my favorite color is purple, my favorite hobbies are playing games, watching sports, and food. I love to cook, i love to eat, I just hate to clean. I wear size 12 shoes, but size 13 boots. I drive a Subaru Outback. I have no pets at the moment. I live in the southern half of the US. Right now I'm wearing all black. It's also raining outside.
Anyway, that's enough things to write to satisfy my brain at the moment. Talk to you soon?

In a vast stretch of ocean, hidden from the prying eyes of civilization and deeper than the legendary Mariana Trench, lay the Nereus Chasm. Few knew of its existence, and fewer still had dared to plumb its shadowy depths. Dr. Elena Morris, an accomplished marine biologist and renowned explorer, was about to join those ranks.
Elena had spent years chasing whispers of the Nereus Chasm's existence from seasoned sailors and retired oceanographers, piecing together tales of a place where the ocean swallowed all light and life. Armed with her submersible, the Nautilus, designed to withstand unimaginable pressures, she was determined to uncover its secrets.
“Are you ready, Elena? Once we start this descent, we’re in the hands of the gods of the deep,” Marco, her husband and the chief engineer of the Nautilus, said with a mix of excitement and concern.
“I’ve never been readier,” Elena replied, her voice steady, betraying no hint of the nerves she felt. As the hatch sealed, she gave one last look at the sunlit world above before the descent began.
The Nautilus slipped beneath the waves, and as the light from the surface faded, the vast emptiness of the deep ocean enveloped Elena. She felt as though she was descending into another world, a place timeless and untouched.
“20,000 feet and counting,” Elena communicated to Marco, who was monitoring from the support ship Argo.
The submersible’s lights pierced the darkness, revealing fleeting glimpses of strange creatures darting out of the light's reach. Bioluminescent jellies floated past, like ghosts in a haunted house, their glow eerie in the oppressive darkness.
At 36,000 feet, Elena surpassed the known depths of the Challenger Deep. “Marco, I’m now deeper than any human has been in a submersible. There’s no turning back now.”
The only response was a crackle of static as the communication systems struggled against the depth.
40,000 feet—Elena felt a shiver run down her spine, not from cold, but from the realization that she was in a realm few had ever seen. Her sonar pinged a massive object in the distance, too structured to be a geological feature.
As she maneuvered the Nautilus closer, the object began to resolve itself into something magnificent—a creature of such colossal size that it dwarfed her vessel. Its body shimmered with a metallic sheen, tentacles longer than Elena could measure gracefully undulating as it moved through the water.
“Marco, do you see this?” Elena’s voice was filled with awe. She knew Marco couldn’t see what she saw, but she hoped her cameras were capturing every detail.
Static filled her ears, then Marco’s voice, “I’m getting some data here, but it’s choppy. Be careful, Elena.”
The creature didn’t seem aggressive. It circled the Nautilus, its giant eyes reflecting a world unknown to science. Elena realized that this sentinel of the deep was as curious about her as she was about it. For a moment, time stood still, and Elena felt a profound connection to this alien creature in the darkness.
But then, an alarm sounded in the submersible. Oxygen levels were dropping faster than expected. She had lingered too long at these depths.
Elena made the decision to ascend. “Heading up now, Marco.”
The submarine began its slow journey upwards. Elena watched the depth gauge reverse as she left the depths of the Nereus Chasm.
The submarine kept rising.
5,000 feet.
4,000 feet.
4% oxygen.
I could still do this, right? Elena thought, her heart pounding as the Nautilus continued its ascent.
The submarine continued to rise.
3%.
3,000 feet.
2,000 feet.
2%.
1,000 feet… so close… I was so close…
Communication with Marco was intermittent, the static more frequent as the pressure eased. “Marco, oxygen’s critical, but I’m nearly there.”
“Just hold on, Elena. We’re ready for you up here,” Marco’s voice crackled through, his words a lifeline as she fought the creeping dread of not making it.
As the surface neared, Elena’s pulse raced. The light from above grew brighter, a sign of the world she was fighting to return to. With each meter she ascended, survival felt more certain, yet the danger was not yet past.
The Nautilus breached the surface, gasping for air like a giant metal whale. Marco was on the radio, “Elena, open the hatch!”
Elena released the hatch, and fresh, salty air rushed in. She took deep, life-affirming breaths

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Lore (Factory New), B/O: $7194.77

★ Butterfly Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2025.74

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★ M9 Bayonet Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $557.87

★ M9 Bayonet Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $529.41

★ M9 Bayonet Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $465.39

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★ Talon Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $1295.27

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth (Minimal Wear), B/O: $746.28

★ Karambit Bright Water (Field-Tested), B/O: $688.15

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★ Flip Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $547.93

★ Flip Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $476.69

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $278.18

★ Flip Knife Black Laminate (Well-Worn), B/O: $258.83

★ Flip Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $181.64

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★ Stiletto Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $686.04

★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $665.41

★ Stiletto Knife, B/O: $601.39

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $418.25

★ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $227.80

★ Stiletto Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.96

★ Stiletto Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $192.79

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★ Nomad Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $518.11

★ Nomad Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $169.78

★ Nomad Knife Forest DDPAT (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $166.88

★ StatTrak™ Nomad Knife Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $335.79

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★ Skeleton Knife Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $442.05

★ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Minimal Wear), B/O: $426.24

★ Skeleton Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $314.03

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2361.28

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $376.53

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★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $557.12

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $471.42

★ Ursus Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $212.37

★ Ursus Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $187.66

★ Ursus Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $178.18

★ Ursus Knife Ultraviolet (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $155.13

★ Ursus Knife Boreal Forest (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.26

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★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Minimal Wear), B/O: $204.83

★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Field-Tested), B/O: $184.50

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Lore (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $224.11

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★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $2142.02

★ Bowie Knife, B/O: $230.44

★ Bowie Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $209.20

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.51

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

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★ Falchion Knife Night (Field-Tested), B/O: $132.54

★ Falchion Knife Urban Masked (Well-Worn), B/O: $112.81

★ Falchion Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $108.81

★ Falchion Knife Forest DDPAT (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.82

★ Falchion Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.46

★ StatTrak™ Falchion Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $143.08

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★ Paracord Knife Crimson Web (Minimal Wear), B/O: $486.48

★ Paracord Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $163.12

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★ Survival Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $138.26

★ Survival Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

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★ Gut Knife Sapphire (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1127.79

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $286.17

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $246.55

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $240.77

★ Gut Knife, B/O: $210.49

★ Gut Knife Lore (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.22

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $151.51

★ Gut Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.94

★ Gut Knife Rust Coat (Well-Worn), B/O: $118.99

★ Gut Knife Boreal Forest (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.80

★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $237.96

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★ Shadow Daggers Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $264.92

★ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $253.03

★ Shadow Daggers Tiger Tooth (Factory New), B/O: $237.22

★ Shadow Daggers Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.40

★ Shadow Daggers Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $144.42

★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $105.20

★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $150.46

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★ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $365.99

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $228.93

★ Navaja Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $227.43

★ Navaja Knife Slaughter (Factory New), B/O: $209.06

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $203.16

★ Navaja Knife Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $132.57

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $121.69

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.95

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $100.41

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $369.01

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $109.95

GLOVES

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2394.67

★ Sport Gloves Omega (Well-Worn), B/O: $572.33

★ Sport Gloves Bronze Morph (Minimal Wear), B/O: $338.88

★ Sport Gloves Big Game (Field-Tested), B/O: $323.66

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★ Specialist Gloves Marble Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1652.07

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike (Field-Tested), B/O: $599.14

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web (Well-Worn), B/O: $231.57

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot (Minimal Wear), B/O: $126.21

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★ Moto Gloves POW! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $996.99

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Field-Tested), B/O: $383.31

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Well-Worn), B/O: $276.00

★ Moto Gloves Turtle (Field-Tested), B/O: $180.28

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★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $502.29

★ Hand Wraps Giraffe (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.73

★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $178.32

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★ Driver Gloves Queen Jaguar (Minimal Wear), B/O: $181.01

★ Driver Gloves Rezan the Red (Field-Tested), B/O: $101.66

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★ Broken Fang Gloves Jade (Field-Tested), B/O: $127.88

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.55

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★ Bloodhound Gloves Guerrilla (Minimal Wear), B/O: $127.94

★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened (Field-Tested), B/O: $102.55

WEAPONS

AK-47 X-Ray (Well-Worn), B/O: $478.95

AUG Hot Rod (Factory New), B/O: $425.83

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Hyper Beast (Factory New), B/O: $413.95

M4A4 Daybreak (Factory New), B/O: $309.51

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge (Factory New), B/O: $305.43

AK-47 Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $196.38

StatTrak™ M4A4 Temukau (Minimal Wear), B/O: $174.64

P90 Run and Hide (Field-Tested), B/O: $167.03

AWP Asiimov (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.33

Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike (Minimal Wear), B/O: $140.00

M4A1-S Printstream (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.70

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Golden Coil (Field-Tested), B/O: $117.48

AWP Asiimov (Well-Worn), B/O: $115.97

StatTrak™ Desert Eagle Printstream (Minimal Wear), B/O: $112.96

StatTrak™ AK-47 Asiimov (Minimal Wear), B/O: $110.85

Souvenir M4A1-S Master Piece (Well-Worn), B/O: $102.42

AK-47 Bloodsport (Minimal Wear), B/O: $100.53

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Ramese's Reach, Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Apep's Curse, Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Mummy's Rot, Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Black Nile, Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Steel Delta, Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Waters of Nephthys, Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Eye of Horus, Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (ScaraB Rush, Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Sobek's Bite, Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Copper Coated, Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Paris 2023, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches

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I am a 26 year old female. Petite at 95lbs. 5’1 in height. I always keep my toenails painted. I wear a women’s size 6 in shoes, so relatively small (but sexy) feet. And I want to sell feet content.
I will conform to any fetish. Squishing my feet in mud. Or stomping my feet in cake. No matter how kinky or nasty, I will do it.
How do I market that? Who would be interested?