Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
Having said his piece, Rene had expected the woman to accept her role as a prisoner of the Fleet. But no sooner had he taken his knee of her back than she was at him again, rolling over and cursing as she tried to spit him on her claws. Training kicked in and Rene applied the wrestling component of his hand-to-hand combat course. He secured underhooks with his arms, locking them together with his hands and hugging her tight from behind. Zildiz bucked and twisted around in a futile attempt to make room for her blades, even managing to get one of her knees beneath her and push off the ground. Rene allowed her to gain her feet, cunningly using the opening to slip the loop of his encircling arms around her waist. Now in complete control of her center of gravity, Rene swung his leg out and arched his back, heaving her up and over like a sack of turnips in a textbook suplex. A fraction of a second before he smashed the top of her skull into the hard ground, he remembered that he was supposed to keep prisoners alive and preferably not in a vegetative state, and so he cushioned the fall with his own body, falling on his side to increase surface area and dissipate the force.
Zildiz was caught totally by surprise. Unlike Rene she had neglected to tuck in her chin before the moment of impact, a vital detail which was one of the first things a recruit was taught to do on the mats.
“Oof!” she said as all the breath slammed out of her by the throw. Rene felt her body go limp as her dazed senses tried to adjust to the violent change of orientation. He took advantage of this moment of weakness and looped his legs around her body, locking his ankles together to form a full body triangle. His left forearm punched up and took her neck in a rear naked choke, a suffocating vise formed by the insides of his elbow crushing her windpipe and carotid arteries.
“I warned you,” he told her. His choking hand grabbed the inside of his other elbow, right forearm sneaking behind her neck and under his armpit, tightening the garrote even further.
“Had enough?”
“Hrrnnkk…” Zildiz choked. She lifted an arm and slid back the blade until it was the length of a finger, deliberately giving Rene the universal gesture to go and fornicate with himself, before sheathing the claw entirely and aiming her fist at him over her shoulder.
Rene ducked as the blade shot out again, only just avoiding it going through his eye socket and into his brain. As it was, it only nicked his temple, sending warm lines of blood trickling down his visor. Rene hugged her even tighter, constricting the chokehold until he heard her breathing reduced to an agonized wheeze. He throttled her until she stopped moving, her struggles weakening until she went completely lax. Then he held the choke for exactly three seconds longer, counting carefully to avoid giving her lasting brain damage. He let go and was relieved to hear her snoring faintly. Gently rolling her onto her back so she didn’t suffocate in the dirt, Rene cast about for a means to secure his prisoner. He had only a few seconds before she regained consciousness. Quickly he cut some vines from the surrounding trees and knotted them into a crude rope. He flipped her back over again and tied her hands at the wrists and elbows. He had no illusions that it would hold her for long. He tied her wings together at their bases for good measure. She had two sets of them, but the larger pair was missing one of its partners that had been torn off at the socket to reveal a gaping wound. They were wondrously tough membranes considering how thin and flexible they were, as sturdy as ultrapod leather. Rene looked over his work and loosened it a bit so as not to cut off the circulation in her arms. It wasn’t bad for something done on the fly. Then again, he’d been playing this whole thing by ear ever since the ambush that had cut his unit to pieces. Ye gods, but that whole experience felt like a lifetime ago. He had not expected to ever use that component of his hand-to-hand training designed for fighting human opponents. Of course, he’d helped put down a fair share of civil unrest in his time, but even during the worst of the food riots in Mound Ulysses he’d never so much as given a person a light shove. The civilians knew better than to antagonize a battalion of the Fleet’s finest over something as routine and reoccurring as a government rationing in the face of crop failure.
He felt quite bad about having to roughhouse the woman, that is, until she sat up awake and glowered hatefully at him, coughing and retching.
“Don’t,” he pleaded with her in exasperation as she gave him the old stink eye, “I don’t want to fight you again.”
“Why?” she spat defiantly, “Afraid you’d lose?”
“Uh huh,” Rene grunted, amused and even a little impressed by her spunk. She couldn’t have weighed more than sixty kilos soaking wet and was at least half a foot shorter than him even with that exomorph of hers, but this woman was all fight and no quit. She would have to be, living on the surface world and facing these abominations day after day. Rene looked at the dismembered corpses of the black-furred devils and had a sudden jolt of inspiration. As Zildiz tested the strength of her restraints Rene went over to the monster he had chopped to bits and poked the misshapen hump on its back, which had excreted thick ribbons of silk at the moment of death. Feeling more than a little squeamish, Rene pulled on the threads of silk. He had only meant to collect two or three meters of the material, but more and more of the stuff kept unwinding out its glands like a handkerchief from a magician’s pocket. Eventually his hands became enmeshed in the horrid stuff and he had to struggle like the dickens to unstick himself and scrape it off onto a bush where it stuck like a lumpy hammock. Remembering how his enemy had plugged the stab wound in its gut, Rene snapped off a twig and curled it into the white mess like those vendors at the fairs did with candy cloud treats, ending up with a spool of silk. He applied it to the cut on his temple by winding it around his head like a bandage, and was gratified when it stopped the bleeding almost immediately. He heard the rustle of dead leaves and turned around to find Zildiz furtively attempting to sidle away from him.
“Don’t even try it,” he told her, “Or I’ll run you down and knock you senseless. I’m taking you back to civilization. The Fleet needs to know what it’s up against out here, and you’re a veritable trove of information.”
Zildiz squatted back down and stared at him, simmering with resentment. Rene shook his head and continued his work, moving on to the monster that had been the first to die at the woman’s hands. Cutting open its hump, Rene was rewarded with a dense lump of thread still packed inside its spinneret. He took another twig and spooled it in, then wrapped the bundle of silk in a large leaf.
A leg twitched of its own accord. Rene nearly dropped the bundle as he sprang back, sword upraised. The devil’s limbs began doing a tap dance and Rene relaxed a bit, recognizing it as the onset of rigor mortis. The side of its face was split open and hanging loosely by a strap of flesh. Struck by a nagging suspicion, Rene stooped down and peeled off the segments of its head, holding the edge of his sword against its neck to decapitate it in the event that it proved too lively for his liking.
The musculature and armor tore away just like it had with Zildiz’s helm, and for the second time that night he found himself staring into the face of another living human being. Only this time it was a man whose face was utterly disfigured, a perversion of the basic form. In the place of his lower jaw were fingerlike protrusions of gummy tissue and exposed nerve endings. His nose cartilage was likewise missing, leaving only a pair of holes dribbling with snot. The man blinked, and glassy eyes with almost no whites at their edges fixed Rene in their gaze.
“Kill…me…” the man whispered.
Rene began to shake uncontrollably, wiping a trembling hand across his mouth as he was forced to consider the carnage he’d just wrought in a new and horrifying light. These weren’t three dead monsters littering the jungle floor; these were three dead men, and some of them he had killed himself.
“Kill me!” the man begged him. He was young, barely Rene’s age, his smooth skin untroubled by the wrinkles of age and worry. He had clear brown pupils and dark, expressive brows. If it weren’t for all the rest of him, Rene might’ve mistaken him for a fresh-faced recruit at the academy, or a paperboy climbing up the terraced apartments of inner hive to deliver news of the Fleet’s latest victory.
On unsteady legs Rene staggered back to Zildiz’s side and away from the awful truth he had uncovered.
“Something the matter?” Zildiz asked in a gleeful tone, “Feeling a little worse for wear, are we?”
“Shut it,” Rene said distantly. He dragged Zildiz to her feet and began winding the silk around her wrists, layering them over thick and tying them off with a simple knot. He kept the vines on her for added insurance and told her to start walking.
“Where to?” she demanded.
“I’m not feeding you to my children, if that’s what you’re asking,” he muttered, “I don’t have any to begin with, and even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t raise them to be cannibals.”
Zildiz didn’t move, so Rene grabbed her and frog marched her away. He had no real destination in mind—he just had to get away from this place and the bodies he’d made. Zildiz rounded on Rene, saying:
“Aren’t you going to deal with him? I only severed his neural connection to paralyze his exomorph. He’s still very much alive.”
“No!” Rene yelled, “That’s not how I—how people do things. Almighty ancestors, is that so hard for you to grasp?”
“Yes,” Zildiz replied quite candidly.
“He’s a living, breathing human being. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but those are pretty rare on Arachnea and worth keeping around.”
“No. He is a Leaper. After extracting your gilt helix, he and his packmates would devoured you right then and there.”
“That’s why you saved me, isn’t it? So they couldn’t obtain this shiny helix thing?”
Zildiz ignored his question, continuing:
“If you leave him here, at best he will die of exposure. At worst, his tribe will come looking for him, and if they find him, they will run us down and kill us anyway.”
Rene bit his lip. She spoke the truth and they both knew it. But after all this world had already taken from him, there remained one thing which he refused to part with. And Rene knew that if he gave in now and took the expedient option—the sensible option—he would be surrendering it forever.
“Sorry,” he said finally, “That’s against the rules.”
He dragged Zildiz over to the Leaper and spoke to him, saying:
“I won’t kill you. I’m not about to eat you either, so you can stop begging for a quick death. As long as you tell me what I want to know, we’ll leave you here and go our separate ways. I might even patch your wounds if you’re cooperative. Does that strike you as a fair bargain?”
The Leaper met this pronouncement with a look of utter perplexity that mirrored the one on Zildiz’s face.
“I’ll take that silence as a yes,” Rene said impatiently, “You’ll begin by telling me your name.”
“Kryptusshh,” the Leaper said slowly, as if not daring to hope.
“Very good. Are there any more of your people out there, Kryptus?”
“Why sshhould I trusht you? I would only be dooming more of my kindred, and there issh no certainty you would not kill me afterwardssh.”
“It’s a chance you have to take,” Rene shrugged, “Either that, or I’ll let this woman do as she pleases with you. And just between you and me,” he said in a loud stage whisper, “She doesn’t seem all that fond of your sort.”
Zildiz and Kryptus locked eyes with each other. Rene could almost feel the waves of hatred coming off her as she bristled, every tendon in her body tensing expectantly. Kryptus must have seen something he didn’t like, for he looked away and said:
“I am a warrior of the Weeping Vipersh. We are roughly eleven hundred sshtrong. One tenth of that number are bravesshh like me.”
“He lies,” Zildiz said, baring her teeth in a snarl, “That is less than half their true strength. He does not count the adolescents and the old loom-mothers, who are the deadliest of their kind.”
“Three hundred, then, if they are consshidered,” Kryptman quickly admitted, “Your pardon, merciful one.”
“I’ll excuse your forgetfulness just this once,” Rene warned, “But your memory better not fail you again.”
He questioned the Leaper closely. Kryptus claimed that only he and his pack had seen the safety pod’s crash landing, and that they had told no one else as they wished to claim the great prize all for themselves. The Weeping Vipers were the largest tribe in the rainforest and were always looking for an advantage over their numerous and belligerent neighbors. Apparently Kryptus had hoped to gain a modicum of the Divine Engine’s power by extracting something called a ‘gilt helix’ from Rene’s blood.
“Jussht one sample would have shatishfied uss,” Kryptus swore, “Then we would have taken you back to the Loom alive.”
“I’m sure nothing would’ve pleased you better,” Rene said wryly, all too cognizant of Zildiz’s earlier assumption that he planned to feed her to the Fleet’s youth.
Rene learned from Kryptus that the Divine Engine had ignited a blazing wildfire that was swiftly spreading north and west. The tribes would likely have noticed it by now, and would all be sending braves in a joint effort to douse the flames. For some reason all the Leapers felt collectively responsible for the wellbeing of the region, and could not allow it to come to harm for fear of dire repercussions.
“Last question. Is anyone going to come looking for you?”
“Not till the morning.”
“Good!” said Zildiz, breaking out of Rene’s grip and aiming a vicious kick at the side of the Leaper’s head. Rene barely caught her and yanked her back, shouting:
“Blood and thunder, woman! Is there nothing you won’t do to piss me off?”
“Are you insane? You cannot possibly mean to leave him alive!” the Gallivant hissed.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Now come here!”
Rene took her by the elbow and pulled her forward, leaving Kryptus where he lay.
“You promished you would tend to my woundssh!” the Leaper cried after them.
“Don’t push your luck!” Rene said over his shoulder, “Anyone who follows us will meet the same end as your friends.”
He and his prisoner went tramping off into the night, Zildiz raging at him all the while.
“Fool! We will both come to regret that decision!”
“You’re probably right,” Rene had to agree.
“Then why did you do it?”
“For the same reason I’m letting you strut around and screech into my ear. What can I say? I’m a conversationalist.”
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

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

Like it's better than I expected from Drake, it's got a good beat and a couple bars are funny. “Kendrick just opened his mouth, someone go hand him a Grammy right now”, the short jokes "back against the curb”. But as a complete song, still sucks.
"I gotta go bad. I gotta go bad" “I really wanted to keep this PG" This is the lamest shit I've ever heard. Nickelodeon ass rapper.
Then he spends most of the song talking about other people. You're not tough for beefing with Pharrell and The Weekend. You got bars for Miley Cryus next? It's weak shit too. “Hey Pharrell, I bought your chains. Hey Weekend, how come I'm always hearing your music at the gay bars?” Maybe Drake's going to try the Kevin Spacey defense.
Even his Kendrick stuff is all over the place. Kendrick wants to be white? Kendrick Lamar? But he also doesn't want to be seen with anyone that isn't blacker than him? “Why don't you post more pictures of your kid" would be a weird line even without the pedo shit hanging over him, but also Kendrick's kid is on the cover of the last album. Then later he calls his son light skinned? What the fuck are you even on about? Baby Keem wrote all your best stuff? As an eight yearold? Drake needs to keep that “you're so mature for age" to the dms. "Get on pop records and rap for the whites”. That would hit if it was coming from literally anyone other than fucking Drake. Also rhyming white with whites, really breaking that pen out. He goes in hard on the Dave Free stuff, which he's already walked back. And the domestic violence allegations don't really stick when every other line is such thin bullshit. I'm not saying every bar has to draw blood, but Drake's batting average is lower than Jordan's here.
“Shake that ass for Free Well not that kind of free, I'm talking about my n– Dave” -Hey, Drake, they're not slow
Then, and this me just not being a Drake fan, but his delivery is so flat. He's swallowing half these jokes. His shit is sleepy. I space out listening to it. Euphoria is a really dense song, but it's all engaging and memorable because of how Kendrick twists his voice around
“You might pop ass with em" "What is it? The braids?” “Let me see you pusha T" "Some shit just cringeworthy, it don't even have to be deep I guess” “Givin him tools to walk through life, like day to day- know nothin bout dat” “I be at New Ho King eatin fried rice with a dip sauce and a blammy, crodie Tell me you're cheesin, fam” “OoOoooO"
Drake is so monotone. He's like when you see an actor rapping on a TV show and you're like, that's pretty good for Anne Hathaway. Not gonna buy the album though. The only line he plays with at all is Dave Freeeeee, and I'm guessing he wishes he didn't do that.
And specifically as a response to Euphoria? Euphoria changes up so much, builds momentum through the song, such an elegant piece of work. Family Matters tries to follow by changing the beat up, but it's janky. It feels like three mediocre songs stitched together, and the second one is a skip. I feel like people are grading on a curve because his next one was the biggest self own in music history, but this shit stinks too.

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The next morning, Himiko was awakened by a delighted scream. She shot up in her bed and saw Tenko dancing around the room.
"Nyeh...Tenko? W-What's going on?" Himiko asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.
"La-la-la-la-la-laaaaaa!!" Tenko sang. Then, she stopped at Himiko's bed and gripped Himiko's shoulders like a crazy person. "Himiko! I ate your Snoozydoodles right before bed, like you told me to, and I just had the most amazing dream!!"
"What was it about?" Himiko asked.
"There were no degenerate males in the world! And all the girls made me their queen!" Tenko sighed. "It was perfect utopia! A utopia...for girls! The sky was pastel pink! The clouds were extra puffy and white! The ocean was also pink and glittery, and all the food we ate was pink, like strawberry cake, strawberry ice cream, strawberry cupcakes, and strawberry milk! And girls of every shape, size, and color were everywhere! Not a degenerate male in sight!"
"Nyeh...a dream filled with just girls sounds like a nightmare," Himiko muttered. "Most problems I had with bullying was from catty, popular girls."
"W-What?! There's no way that's true, Himiko!" Tenko cried. "Maybe they were males in disguise!"
"No, I don't think so," Himiko shook her head. "Plus, a world with just girls is going to lead to extinction."
"Not in my dream!" Tenko exclaimed happily. "Girls were born from 'Girl Flowers!'"
"Nyeeeh...girl flowers? " Himiko asked, raising a brow.
"Yeah! You plant a pink seed into the ground, and when it grows, the petals open up and reveal a beautiful baby girl inside!" Tenko gushed. "It was so amazing! Girls, girls, girls everywhere!" Himiko wrinkled her nose.
"I bet it smelled like fish in that world," she muttered.
"Fish?! Why would it smell like-...oh! Hahahaha!" Tenko said. "No, no, Himiko! We didn't have to deal with that because there was need for it! All the girls came from 'Girl Flowers,' remember?"
"Oh...I guess that's true," Himiko replied, shaking her head at the absurdity. Suddenly, there was a knock at their door. Tenko went over to open it. Standing on the other side were Tsumugi, Angie, Maki, Miu, Gonta, Ryoma, and Kaito.
"Hey! What are you all doing here?!" Tenko demanded. "Especially you degenerates!" Ignoring Tenko, they all rushed right in and crowded around Himiko's bed. Himiko nervously pulled her blanket up to her face.
"Nyeh...c-can I help you guys?" she whimpered.
"I had the most wonderful dream because of your cookies, Himiko!" Angie chirped. "Everyone in the whole wide world became a follower of Atua, and was welcomed into his kingdom!"
"I had a dream that I finally went to space!" Kaito exclaimed. "And I became the world's best astronaut for discovering a lot of alien civilizations! Everyone voted for me to be president of Earth!"
"There's no way such a title exists," Maki said, shaking her head.
"Well, maybe not in real life, but that's how it was in my dream!" Kaito said. "But, anyways, what was your dream about, Maki Roll?" Everyone turned to Maki, curious to what kind of dream she had. She blushed.
"I'd...rather not talk about it," she grumbled. "It's too dumb."
"Just tell us already, Judge Moody!" Miu spat impatiently. Maki glared at her, then sighed.
"Fine..." she said. "I had a dream where I wasn't an orphan, and I had real, actual parents who loved me. And I was happy and nice to everyone, and I didn't have to worry about being an assassin and stealing peoples' lives." Everyone stared in stunned silence at her. Maki sighed gloomily. "See? I told you it was dumb."
"Geez, that's not dumb at all," Ryoma said. "Sounds similar to my dream, though, I would agree if you had said that wishing for it to happen would be dumb."
"What do you mean, Ryoma?" asked Tsumugi.
"It's pointless to dream or wish for something that will never come true," Ryoma explained. "Even though my dream was...surprisingly delightful, it also felt like a punch in the gut. Hmph...I don't know whether to call that dream a blessing, or a curse."
"What was your dream about?" Kaito asked.
"Well, I'll tell you, but it is depressing," Ryoma warned. "My girlfriend hadn't been killed, and I was back home with her and my cat. And I didn't even play tennis, I wasn't even an Ultimate student. I was a regular guy."
"That doesn't sound depressing at all!" Kaito said.
"But, the fact that it'll never come true is what makes it depressing," Ryoma said. "That's why I say, dreams like that are pointless. It's better to forget about the past and move on with your life"
"Bullshit!" Kaito exclaimed. "C'mon, man, stop whining about how depressing your life is! You say that wishing for the impossible is dumb and it was all in the past, or whatever, so why the hell are you still depressed? If you truly believed that you should move on, you should stop worryin' about the past and look to the future with bright hopes! That goes for you, too, Maki!"
"What? Why me?" Maki asked.
"It's true that you can't change the past, and maybe wishing for it to change is dumb," Kaito explained. "But, if you're still depressed about what happened in the past, it means you can't let go of what happened! You're not moving on! Moving on is accepting what happened, and doing whatever you can to make your life better! Instead of wishing to undo the past, wish for a brighter future! That goes for all of you!" The room fell silent as they stared at Kaito.
"So, anyway, my dream was about me actually becoming the characters that I cosplay!" Tsumugi said, breaking the silence.
"Hey! Don't just ignore my inspirational speech!" Kaito exclaimed angrily.
"It really wasn't all that inspiring," Tsumugi said, haughtily waving him off.
"Seriously! Nobody asked for your opinion, Mahatma Ghandeez Nuts!" Miu said to Kaito.
"W-What?! " Kaito exclaimed.
"Ha! In my dream, I was the world's best inventor!" Miu said grandly. "With my inventions, I was able to rid the world of starvation, war, violence, famine, and all that other bad shit! And everyone loved me! All the guys on the planet wanted to bang me, and my boobs grew a size bigger!"
"Um...can you not share your dreams?" Tsumugi said. "I feel like every time you speak, I want to do unspeakably horrible things to you."
"Shut the hell up, you four-eyed, lamebrain otaku! " Miu spat. "You're just jealous because you have two deflated balloons for chest!"
"Um...can Gonta share dream, now?" Gonta asked.
"Yes, Gonta, go ahead," Tsumugi replied, eager to not have to listen to Miu anymore.
"Gonta was king of bugs!" Gonta replied. "Everyone in world loved bugs, and loved King Gonta!"
"Tuh...that dream sounds stupid as shit!" Miu scoffed.
"Oh! G-Gonta sorry..." Gonta apologized with a hurt expression.
"You don't have to apologize to her, Gonta," Tsumugi said, glaring at Miu.
"You want someone to apologize to, apologize to all of us for wastin' our time!" Miu spat to Gonta.
"Hey! Cut it out, Miu! Stop yellin' at him!" Kaito yelled.
"Don't tell me what to do, Luke Skyfucker!" Miu shouted back.
"Stop callin' me names!" Kaito yelled back.
"H-Hey! Why everyone fighting?" Gonta asked. "Gonta not mean to start fight!"
"Leave it up to a degenerate male to start a fight!" Tenko growled, glaring at Gonta.
"If you guys don't stop fighting, Atua will unleash his holy wrath upon you all," Angie warned with a creepy grin.
"Nobody asked you, you kooky cult bitch!" Miu said, swatting at Angie. "All y'all are just jealous because my dream was better that yours!"
"Excuse me?!" Tsumugi cried.
"Yeah! Obviously mine was the best one!" Kaito exclaimed.
"You're plainly wrong! Mine was the best one!" Tsumugi said.
"No, it was mine!" Tenko shouted.
"Nuh-uuuhhhh...it was mi-iiiine," Angie said cheerfully.
"Um...Gonta thinks Gonta's was pretty good," Gonta said diplomatically.
"Sheesh...I can't believe everyone is getting so worked up over this," Ryoma said.
"Seriously. It's stupid to be fighting over something like this," Maki agreed.
"Well, I don't think it's stupid at all!" Tsumugi said.
"Yeah! In fact, I want another dream!" Miu said. Everyone turned to Himiko, who had been staring at them in horrified silence. "You better whip us up some more cookies, ya little midget, or else!"
"Well, um...you'll have to wait next weekend," Himiko replied in a small voice.
"I ain't waitin' that long!" Miu spat. "So, chop, chop! Get to makin' those damn cookies right now!"
"Nyeh, but...what about school?" Himiko asked.
"Himiko's right, we need to get ready for school," Maki said. But...I think I'd also like more of the cookies." Everyone turned to her in surprise.
"Wait...really, Maki?" Tsumugi asked.
"It was...a really good-tasting cookie...that's all," Maki mumbled, fiddling with one of her pigtails.
"Or is it because you liked your dream?" Angie teased. Maki frowned at her.
"Shut up," she said.
"I...agree with Maki," Ryoma said. "I want to see if I would have a different dream. One that's more...sensible."
"A dream that's...sensible? " Tsumugi repeated.
"Yeah...one that keeps me away from my past," Ryoma explained. "Do you think you can do that for me, Himiko?"
"Nyeh...okay," Himiko said. She knew exactly how to do just that.
Part Twelve
"What was all that ruckus about earlier, Monkey Buns?" Kokichi asked as he and Himiko walked together to school.
"Nyeh...just as I was hoping, my Snoozydoodles gave everyone dreams," Himiko replied. "But, when everyone that I gave them to was talking about their dreams, things got a little out of hand."
"Was that the effect of the magic?" Kokichi asked.
"Well, no...that was because Miu was being her usual, annoying self, and then Tsumugi said something, then Miu snapped back at her, then everything sorta erupted into chaos," Himiko explained.
"Didn't you say a while ago that the dream powder can be addictive?" Kokichi asked. Himiko sighed.
"Yeah...even small doses of the dream powder might cause someone to be addicted," she said. "But, it works really well, and that's why I wanted to put it in my cookies."
"Hmm...I hope you know what you're doing, Himiko," Kokichi said.
"Well...I have another idea where the dream powder might be not as addictive...but the effects will be just as good?" Himiko said with a bit of uncertainty. Then, she blushed. "I...used this method to dream about you before we started dating." Kokichi raised his eyebrows at her.
"Really?!" he exclaimed, grinning.
"Yeah...I had to steal your hair while you were asleep to do it, though," Himiko said quietly.
"Yeah, that's not creepy at all," Kokichi teased, wrapping his arm around Himiko's waist, and giving her a kiss on the cheek. A mischievous grin crossed his lips. "I wanna know what this other method is."
***
Friday night had arrived. Kokichi was with Himiko in her secret magic room. She was flipping through the spellbook titled, "Inside the Magical Mind." Himiko showed Kokichi the chapter "Build the Perfect Dream," specifically, the romance section.
"Nyeh...these are potions I used to have dreams about you," she explained to him, and pointed to the different dreams. "This is the 'sweet love dream' potion, the 'spicy love dream' potion, and the 'hot and steamy love dream' potion." Kokichi read the description of each dream, his impish grin growing larger across his face as he read.
"So, you drank all of those potions?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
"Well, one night, I drank the first one, then the next night, I drank the second," Himiko said. "I secretly gave the last one to Miu, because I was too scared to drink it myself."
"Ugh! You gave it to Miu?! " Kokichi exclaimed in disgust.

"Well...I-I'd feel dirty having the last dream!" Himiko stammered.
"Well, then, why'd you make that potion in the first place?" Kokichi asked.
"Because I was curious!" Himiko said. "But, then my curiosity was replaced by fear and feeling dirty, so I gave it to Miu. It's a good thing I did, too, because..."
"Cuz, why...?" Kokichi asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because she was doing very...dirty things with you," Himiko replied. "Yeah...we were having our monthly slumber party, and in the middle of it all, Miu was dreaming and...nyeh...screaming."
"AAAUUUUGGHHHH!!! GROSS!!" Kokichi exclaimed, covering his ears. "I don't wanna do it with her!! "
"Well, she did say that you said that to her in her dream," Himiko said. "But, you only did it to get her to shut up because she kept begging you."
"Ew, I don't care," Kokichi muttered. "There's no excuse to condone bestiality." Himiko sighed and gave Kokichi a playful swat. Kokichi laughed, then eyed her flirtatiously. "Besides, my body only belongs to you...Himiko." Himiko blushed and lowered her head. Every time he said her name like that, it got her heart pumping like crazy. "My body...is your body." Kokichi lifted her chin to turn her head to him. "Mi cuerpo...es su cuerpo, y mi corazón...es su corazón."
"Ohhhh...Kokichiiii...!" Himiko gurgled with delight, biting her lip. She didn't know Spanish, but he made it sound so good. Kokichi leaned in to give her a passionate kiss.
"Okay, that's enough!" he said, stopping the kiss abruptly.
"W-What?! Wait! No! Moooore...!" Himiko pouted, tugging on Kokichi's sleeve. "I want mooore."
"Nuh-uh, Monkey Buns. Tomorrow is another cookie sale, so we can't get distracted right now. We gotta make these cookies like Hiro...baked! " Kokichi said.
"O-kaaaayyy..." Himiko pouted.
"M'kay, so how are gonna do this, HimiCocoa Bean?" Kokichi asked.
"Well...what genre of potion should I make?" Himiko asked. "There's comedy, action-adventure, romance, horror, fantasy, mystery, aaannnd...lots of other stuff."
"Comedy!" Kokichi said. "Everyone needs a good laugh!"
"Nyeh...okay," Himiko said, then turned to the comedy section of the chapter.
"So, you'll just pour whatever potion you make into the cookie batter, right? And mix it up?" Kokichi asked.
"Yup, that's right," Himiko nodded.
"Aaaalrighty, then! Welp, do your thang, babe!" Kokichi said, kissing Himiko's cheek. Himiko giggled and read the comedy section:
~COMEDY:~
Laughter is the best medicine, as they say! So, why not have it in your dreams? After all, there's nothing cuter than someone laughing in their sleep! Whether you're in the mood for some gut-busting, slap-happy humor, wild, crazy humor, or even just simple, laughable jokes, every hilarious dream is welcome in clown town!
Slapstick comedy dream: A dream where tripping, punching, bashing, slapping, falling, and everything in between is considered more funny than horrifying! If you fancy a dream like that, give Slapstick comedy dream a whirl!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 1 tsp of pepper for an extra kick, 1 tsp of cinnamon for an extra bite, 1 tsp of dragon spice for an extra punch, 3 petals of the Laffodil flower, and a 3/4 cup of sunlight for some lighthearted fun. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
Fun-loving comedy dream: You can't always watch comedy, you have to experience it, too! If you feel like going on a funny, fun-filled adventure full of laughter, then the fun-loving comedy dream is just what you're looking for!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 3/4 cup of elven sparkles for whimsy, 1 cup of pink polka dot pond water, 1 tsp of sugar, 5 petals of the Laffodil flower, and 3/4 cup of sunlight. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
Joker dream: Want a dream with less gut busting, and more on the relaxed side? Then, a Joker dream is prefect the perfect comfort comedy dream for you!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 1 tsp of funny honey, 1 petal of the Laffodil flower, a pinch of jesterly ginseng powder, and 3/4 cup of sunlight. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
"Nyeh...which one should I pick?" Himiko asked. Kokichi scanned the page.
"Hmm...why not all of them?" he suggested. "You can make three batches of cookies, and pour the different potions into each one! Actually, it's way more interesting that way, since people will get to randomly choose their comedy dream cookies!"
"I guess you're right," Himiko said. She got to work, whipping up all three potions. "Nyeh...all done!"
"Do you wanna go to D.I.C.E. headquarters and bake them there again?" Kokichi asked.
"Yeah, but...let's take the short way," Himiko said. "I'm already tired from making these potions." Before Kokichi could ask what she meant, Himiko snapped her fingers, and they magically appeared at the abandoned insane asylum serving as D.I.C.E. headquarters.

I (25)M am experiencing hair loss, hair thinning and dandruff usually itching and skin flaking that too on face near nose and chest area. My doctor mentioned I have high hemoglobin and suggested blood donation to lower it. However, I'm unsure if these symptoms are related or if donating blood is the best course of action, at first I though it was due to my low levels of ferritin but he exclaimed that it was normal level and no need for supplementation . These are my Blood test report

• Ferritin: 30.7 ng/ml
• Iron: 65.61
• UIBC: 248.02
• TIBC: 313.64
• Transferrin Saturation: 20.92%
• Vitamin B-12 : 356.69 pg/mL
• Vitamin D: 29.54
  
• Sample Type: WB EDTA
  
• Blood Cells Parameter
  
  • Haemoglobin (Hb)
    • Value: 15.9 g/dL
    • Reference Range: 13.0-17.0 g/dL
    • Method: Photometric/Non Cyanmethemoglobin
  • RBC Count (Red Blood Count)
    • Value: 6.0 H x 10^6/uL
    • Reference Range: 4.5-5.9 x 10^6/uL
    • Method: Optical Flowcytometry
  • Packed Cell Volume (PCV) - Hematocrit
    • Value: 48.4 %
    • Reference Range: 30.0-55.0 %
    • Method: RBC Pulse Height Detection
  • Mean Corpuscular Volume (MCV)
    • Value: 80.1 fL
    • Reference Range: 80-96 fL
    • Method: Automated/Calculated
  • Mean Corpuscular Hemoglobin (MCH)
    • Value: 26.4 pg/cell
    • Reference Range: 28-33 pg/cell
    • Method: Automated/Calculated
  • Mean Corpuscular Hb concentration (MCHC)
    • Value: 32.90 g/dL
    • Reference Range: 31-36 g/dL
    • Method: Automated/Calculated
  • Red Blood Cell Distribution Width Coefficient of Variation (RDW-CV)
    • Value: 13.8 %
    • Reference Range: 11.7-14.4 %
    • Method: Automated/Calculated
  • Red Blood Cell Distribution Width Standard Deviation (RDW-SD)
    • Value: 38.6 fL
    • Reference Range: 35.0-46.0 fL
    • Method: Automated/Calculated
• White Blood Count (WBC) PARAMETERS
  
  • Total Leukocyte Count (TLC/WBC COUNT)
    • Value: 7.80 x 10^3/uL
    • Reference Range: 4.00-10.0 x 10^3/uL
    • Method: Automated optical Flow cytometry/Manual

Is my iron and ferritin really normal or should i get supplements ? is it related to my hair fall and dandruff?

Male 45
Around 3 weeks ago I started to get some pains around mid and lower back area on right hand side. This seemed to then spread and I felt the pain both sides as well as on the front and down sides. Started to then get shivers about 4 days in then 6th day really bad shivers, no heat in my hands, even numbness on one of my forearms, night sweats, headaches, nausea feeling etc. On checking urine that day at start it was quite cloudy and dark and over the day I was running to toilet quite a bit.
Next day I’d had enough and as it was weekend went to out of hours docs for NHS and was told they found “plus one” for white blood cells in urine, this was after about 6 toilet breaks already that day and drinking around 1.5 litres of water so maybe thinks were diluted. They didn’t do any culture tests etc as out of hours only have so many options. I was put on antibiotics for a week which took away the worst / weirder of the symptoms to the point that I was only left with the pain and the pain had decreased and was primarily on right side again but not always. Was getting it just above belly button on both sides at one time or another but again mainly right.
The day after finishing the first antibiotic pain started to build again so went back to out of hours again 2 days after they ended as it was a bank holiday weekend. They ran the urine test and nothing came back but I was only finished antibiotic about 36 hours before so not sure if that’s why. Anyway they gave me another week course but asked me to go to gp right away next day. I did so and brought a urine sample, at this point id finished the first antibiotic about 2.5 days before and had started the second set and had a full days dose the day before. Anyway the urine sample didn’t grow anything during the culture test which may be down to the antibiotics - I really don’t know - but apparently pus was found in the sample. What amount I’m not sure.
I’ve continued to take the second antibiotic course and towards the end I felt the pain reducing further. The day after it finished I was quite hopeful it was dealt with as pain had subsided so much but it was short lived as the day after that it got a bit worse again and today it’s also there and definitely sorer again.
At this point I really don’t know what to do, I’m now 4 days after my last antibiotic. I’m fearful if I leave another sample in too soon for a culture whether they will find anything unless I give more time since antibiotics. Equally I’m fearful to start another dose until I can get some answers as I expect urine tests are then pointless again if they cannot grow any culture. Not sure whether to leave in a sample tomorrow or wait till next week further in the hope that they can find the bacteria and better treat it, the downside being I can’t treat it till I do that. Equally maybe I just need to be on them longer than a week without break.
After the last antibiotic i feel I was nearly better and I just need a longer course. Just need this gone as it’s tiring.
Anyone been through this before or anyone have any medical expertise in the area, any advice?

The pain was the worst thing`Dominick Mason had ever known…and he knew what it felt like to die. It felt like his brain was in a blender, being chopped to liquid for a Jeffery Dahmer smoothie and though it seemed melodramatic, he imagined he could feel himself losing brain cells by the minute. The sun, Merrick told him, would not burn him, but it would decay him faster, so sleep or rest during the day. With the sick, throbbing agony in the center of his brain, however, that was impossible. He spent most of the day curled up on his side, hugging his knees, and moaning. He had flashbacks to dying in his apartment, and that made things even worse. The room became too small, too close, the air too stale. His heart, filled with the blood of last night’s meal, pounded in his chest, and he went from slightly chilly to hot and feverish as blood was forced through his circulatory system. It mixed with the embalming fluid and left him feeling full and constipated. He didn’t want to get up, but he also didn’t want to go on lying there. He was the definition of miserable.
Before long, the pain became too great and he got up to pace, pressing his hands to the sides of his head and gritting his teeth. Merrick, who slept very little if at all, sat in his chair and watched, trying his best to talk him through it. “It’ll be over soon,” Merrick said. “The pain receptors in your brain are the first to go. When they burn out, you won’t feel anything.”
“When?” Dom asked, his voice raising with the tide of pain.
“A couple days?”
“A couple days???”
“The pain will lessen gradually,” Merrick said, “this is the worst of it.”
Dom believed that this was, indeed, the worst of it, but he doubted it would lessen gradually. For the rest of the day, the pain got worse and worse until every light blinded him, every sound turned his stomach, and the smell of anything made his gorge rise. The cloying smell of the embalming fluid, the light but unmistakable odor of dead flesh, and the scent of stale blood sitting in decomposing stomachs made him want to vomit, but he was afraid to. He didn’t think he could handle the sight of blood rushing from his mouth and splattering the floor. He still possessed enough of his facilities, he believed, to go insane.
Pain has a way of darkening one’s mood, and by the time the sun began to set, Dom was in the most sour mood possible. Even Merrick’s calm, fatherly voice was beginning to get on his nerves. When he took the oath to him the day before (or was it the day before that?), he turned his faith and trust over to Merrick entirely. He was finally accepted, included, finally had the love and fellowship that, in the pit of his soul, he had always wanted. Merrick understood him, Merrick was kind to him.
But deep down, Dom realized that he didn’t fully trust him. He said that his brain didn’t rot because he was “lucky.” That sounded like some bullshit to Dom. Why wasn’t Joe a blithering idiot too? Was he lucky as well? Did lightning strike in the same place twice? In life, people had done nothing but hurt and lie to Dom. Why would death be any different? He thought back to the strange liquid that always seemed to leak from Merrick’s nose, and Joe’s. He thought it was embalming fluid, but it never leaked from his own nose, or from anyone else’s. He tried to tell himself that it was far too soon to judge, but once he began to doubt something, his mind raced away. He felt a twinge of guilt, as Merrick had done absolutely nothing to deserve his doubt, but goddamn it, his head was on fire and he wanted it to stop. Anything to make it stop.
Just after sundown, the music began as Club Vlad opened for the night. It throbbed in the center of Dom’s head and made him want to claw his eyes out. When it became too much for him, he slipped away and stumbled into the sultry summer night. He came out in the alley running behind the club, clutching his head and breathing through bared teeth. He staggered, bumped into a metal trash can, and roared at the top of his lungs, as if he could purge himself of the pain by screaming.. His voice echoed and came back to him, making the pain worse.
Merrick was lying. He knew it. People always lied to him. His brain was rotting and PEOPLE WERE LYING! Flashing with anger, he slammed his fist into the brick wall of a Chinese restaurant. He barely felt anything so he did it again and again until his hand was lumpy and shaking. He sat heavily on the ground and pressed his hands to his head. It felt like maggots were burrowing into his brain, and he was suddenly terrified that they really were. He needed to stop this awful pain, but how?
An idea came to him.
The funeral home.
Maybe there was something there.
He was on his feet and lumbering there before the thought had even finished reverberating through his mind. It was a long shot, but he was desperate. On the way there, he stuck to the shadows, staying out of the light cast by the streetlamps and avoiding people. When he passed them, he kept his head down. When he reached the funeral home, he went to the back door where he and Jessie had gone the other day. He tried it, and it opened.
Inside, he bounced off the walls like a pinball, knocking over an end table and tearing at the flesh of his head, pulling it away in long, gray strips. He panted like a wild animal, his body a raging tempest of emotions. It was reaching a crescendo, he thought, his brain was about to go supernova. The world dimmed, things got really echoy. The young man he’d picked the embalming fluid up from was there, looking scared.
Flashing, Dom grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall, knocking a painting of a flowery field to the carpet. Everything seemed to go in slow mo. “How does Merrick keep his brain from rotting?” Dom heard himself demanding from far away. “How does he keep the pain away?”
The man trembled. “I-I-”
Dom slammed him again. “Tell me or I’ll make you like me.”
“No!” the man wailed. He shook his head from side to side, his eyes wet with fear.
“How?”
“He-He uses a solution,” the man stammered. “Some kind of special thing. It preserves his brain. That’s all I know.”
An idea occurred to Dom.
Holding the man by the back of his neck, Dom dragged him into the embalming room and pushed him against the table. His head felt like it was swelling. Hot, screaming, getting ready to explode. He looked around, found the embalming machine, and grabbed the hose. There was a sharp tip on it so that you could jam it into a body. He held it in his hand, hesitating for just a moment before pressing it to his temple. The man watched in horror as Dom slowly shoved the tip into his head. It tore his flesh, broke through his skull, and sank into his brain. He felt no pain, only pressure, but cried out anyway. His eyes rolled up into his head and a shudder went through his body.
“Turn it on!” he yelled.
“That’s not what he -”
“TURN IT ON!”
Starting, the man turned the machine on. Cold embalming fluid squirted directly into Dom’s brain. Almost at once, the pain began to ebb away, replaced only by a fuzzy sense of numbness. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, looking for all the world like an addict taking a hit of his favorite substance after a long and trying day. Fluid leaked from his nose, ears, and eyes and dripped down the back of his throat.
The man waited for a long time, then turned the machine off.
The pain was gone.
At least for now.
“Tell me again,” Dom said.
The man did. Merrick used a special preserving agent to keep his brain intact. Joe, the man suspected, got it as well. So Merrick had lied to him.
Dom felt betrayed.
And angry.
Leaving the man (Dom realized that he didn’t even know his name), he walked back to Club Vlad, his hands fisted in his pockets. All his life, he had been hurt, lied to, and ignored. All his life, people had done wrong to him. And all those years, he just took it.
He resolved not to be so accepting in death.
At last, he was going to stop being a sniveling little bitch and stand up for himself.
When he reached Club Vlad, he slammed through the back door and took the stairs two at a time. At the top, he called out Merrick’s name. The old man was sitting in his chair, being attended to by Jessie and Matt. He looked startled when Dom came in. “You lied to me,” Dom said, stalking over to his benefactor.
“What are you talking about?” Merrick asked, doing his best to sound innocent.
“You lied to me!” Dom screamed. He bent over and got so close to Merrick’s face that he could have kissed him. “You told me there was no way to save my brain, but that’s not true. You’re pumping your head full of shit and letting the rest of us rot.”
A dark shadow flickered across Merrick’s face. “Watch your tone when you talk to me,” he said. His voice was low, menacing.
“Fuck you,” Dom said. “I should k -”
Suddenly, Dom was being grabbed from behind and yanked back, an arm around his neck. He cried out in alarm as Joe swung him around and slammed him face first into the wall. He heard his nose crunch, felt his teeth shatter. Next, Joe wrestled him to the glitter-sprinkled floor and wedged his knee between his shoulder blades.
Merrick watched with a sneer of disgust, his hands gripping the arms of his chair. He wheeled himself over, Jessie holding his IV stand steady and following behind. “Listen, you son of a bitch,” Merrick said, “you’re lucky to be a part of this family.”
Cold fear filled the pit of Dom’s stomach, yet he wouldn’t back down, couldn’t back down. He had lived his entire life like a mouse in a burrow, he wasn’t about to live his entire death the same way.
“Fuck your family,” he said defiantly. “And fuck you.”
Merrick’s face darkened and he sat back in his chair. He looked at Jessie and nodded. She went away and came back a moment later holding something in her hand. Dom’s eyes widened when he saw what it was.
A wooden stake, one end honed to a razor point.
Why they had one of those lying around, Dom didn’t know; it’d be like Superman keeping a piece of kryptonite on the mantle over the fireplace. Merrick directed Max and Matt to hold Dom’s arms down/ Joe pivoted, kneeling on his head now so that Dom’s back was exposed. Dom’s heart slammed with terror and tremors raced through his body.
“Is this what you want, Dominick?” Merrick asked. “To die? To truly die?”
Dom swallowed hard. No, it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to live, to love, to have a family one day. He wanted a happy, normal life, the life TV and social media had been promising him since he was a little boy.
But all of that went out the window the night he died in his little apartment. There was no life anymore, just a grotesque parody of life. What was there for him other than death? Clinging desperately onto life for decades like Merrick? Stuffing himself full of embalming fluid and moth balls? Grinding for one more minute just so he could sit hooked up to a machine?
Dom spoke.
“What?” Merrick asked, not having heard.
Dom licked his lips. “Just fucking do it.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Expectation hung in the air. Finally, breaking the tension, Merrick nodded to Jessie. Kneeling down, she brought the stake up, and Dom closed his eyes.
This was it.
He braced himself for death.
Jessie brought the stake down just as a shot rang out, deafening in the small space. Her head whipped back, embalming fluid, skull fragments, and gray, sickly pieces of brain showering from the back of her head. She flopped back and landed on the floor with a sickening thud.
A woman cop, her black uniform in stark contrast to the burning white light, stood in the doorway to the hall, her gun drawn. Everyone did, indeed, freeze, more out of surprise than respect for authority. They all looked at her, their dead mouths agape, resembling children who’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Everyone on the ground!” she barked.
No one knew what to do. They hadn’t expected to be raided by the police so had not prepared. She jerked her gun and everyone instinctively flinched. “On the ground!” she repeated. To Max: “You too, bone boy.”
The first one to react was Joe. He sprang at her like a big, undead frog. She brought the gun around and fired, but he was already crashing into her. The shot went wild and struck the IV bag next to Merrick; he ducked and let out a sound of fear. The others rushed her, and Dom got quickly to his feet. Jessie lay on the floor, her mouth open in a silent scream and her bony fingers frantically examining the ragged hole in the center of her forehead. For a moment, he was frozen; everything was happening too fast. Then, when Merrick saw him and cried, “Stop him!, he came alive. Jessie tried to grab at his leg, but he kicked her hand away and stomped on it like it was a giant spider. On the other side of the room, Matt, Joe, and Max had forced the cop to the ground. Perhaps excited by all the action, perhaps just hungry, they began to tear her apart. She howled in pain, and the last thing Dom saw before he fled was her open, blood-filled mouth. Her eyes were filled with pain…with terror.
After that, Dom ran.
***
When the interloper was dead, Merrick directed Joe and Matt to dispose of the body. “Get rid of it,” he said wearily and rubbed his temples, “make sure it isn’t found.”
They rolled her into a carpet from the office, and the way her feet stuck out may have been comical under other circumstances.
Goddamn it, this was bad. Merrick’s entire philosophy rested on avoiding detection. He had done well in that regard. Whereas other vampires had attacked their villages and gotten themselves dug from the ground and staked, he had made it four decades. He never shat where he ate, and there is no bigger turd than killing a cop. They might dawdle on all the boys who’d gone missing - taken because their blood was stronger and more robust than the blood of girls - but they would not take a cop dying lightly at all.
Merrick owned various businesses around the country. He and the others would simply move on. Tomorrow night, they would disappear into the night. They had done it before and they would likely do it again. Once things were settled at their new base of operations, he would have Joe killed for all the trouble he’d caused.
And Dom?
Let him go.
The little rat wouldn’t last a month on his own.
“Jessie?”
Jessie sat against the wall, gazing into space.
“Jessi…start packing. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
She didn’t move, didn’t seem to hear. The shot had all but lobotomized her.
Damn it.
Joe backed the van up to the back door of Club Vlad, and then helped Matt carry the carpet-rolled body down the stairs. They loaded it in and closed the back doors. Together, they drove around looking for a place to dump it. Merrick wanted it to go unfound, but Joe doubted there was anywhere isolated enough in the city. On a whim, he drove to Washington Park, a vast expanse of green trees and shadows. There was a large pond there. It seemed the best option. They were leaving tomorrow anyway, so did it really matter?
Joe backed the van to a railing overlooking the dark water and put it in park. He and Matt got out, fetched the body, and carried it to the railing. They lifted and heaved it over. It splashed. Thus, they rid themselves of Vanessa Rodregiez.
***
Bruce sat anxiously up in his easy chair and waited for his cell to ring.
Parked in front of the TV by warm lamplight, a beer wedged between his legs, he’d been watching the 11’o’clock news when the phone rang. He picked it up and it was Vanessa. “Hey,” she said, “I think I found our body?”
“Which one?” Bruce asked and took a drink. “We have a lot of those these days.”
“Dominick Mason.”
Bruce sat forward in his chair. “Dead Dom? Where?”
“He just came out of a funeral home, ironically enough.”
“That sounds about right,” Bruce said. “Where are you now?”
“I’m following him east on Central.”
“Are you sure it’s him?” Bruce asked.
“I think so, but I’m not sure. I’ll call you back when I’m done.”
Bruce sat the phone aside and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
At some point, he fell asleep sitting up, his head lulled to one side and his mouth open. He snorted himself awake, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. He checked his phone and was perturbed to see that it was past 2am.
Vanessa hadn’t called.
He dialed her number and let the phone ring until it went to voicemail. Sighing, he ended the call, then waited a few minutes and called again.
Still no answer.
It was possible she had forgotten. Maybe the guy turned out to not be Dead Dom after all. She followed some random guy around, realized it, and that was that. Hell, she was probably too embarrassed to call and tell him about it.
Something told him that wasn’t right, however.
There was something else going on here.
Something…darker.
Just before 3am, his phone rang. He snatched it off the end table next to the chair and answered it. It was Burt, the night sargent. “Rodriguez is missing,” he said simply.
Bruce’s heart sank. “Missing?”
“Yeah, she hasn’t checked in for hours and she isn’t answering calls.”
“I’m on my way,”
Bruce tore through the house, pulling on his uniform, socks, and shoes in less time than it took a Daytona 500 pit crew to service a car. In ten minutes he was speeding down 787, the Albany skyline rising in the distance. As he hurried to the station, he thought back to his last conversation with Vanessa. She’d found Dom the Dead Man, the “corpse” who’d scared Ed Harris out of a 20 year career. Despite all their talk about vampires and the living dead, Bruce didn’t believe it, not really. Even so, he was sure that Dominick Mason had done something to Vanessa.
He checked in at the station before doing anything else. They had triangulated Vanessa’s last known location via cell towers. Cops were already out searching the streets for her. Bruce went out as well, intending to start from her last known position and work his way east on Central. The closest funeral home was Tebbutt and Frederick on Central. There was also Lasak & Gigliotti on North Allen Street. Bruce didn’t know which one Vanessa had seen Dom come out of, so he checked both.
Both were deserted at this hour.
Undeterred, Bruce drove up and down Central Ave. At one point, he noticed a shape in an alleyway that looked human. He hit the brakes, jumped out, and pointed his gun at it. “Freeze!”
An old wino stepped out of the darkness. “Alright, you got me,” he said, hands up. “I started COVID. It was an accident, I swear.”
Bruce sighed and put his gun away.
For two more hours, Bruce searched the streets of Albany for Vanessa. At 4am, he spotted a squad car abandoned in the rear parking lot of an abandoned gas station on lower Lark Street. He called it in and the desk sergeant confirmed that it was the one Vanessa had signed out that night.
Still there was no sign of Vanessa herself.
Just after dawn, as the city came alive and CDTA buses began lumbering up and down the streets, Bruce got a call on his cell. “A jogger found a body in Washington Park.”
Bruce was in his personal car. He had no bubble light, no siren. Even so, he sped through the streets like he did, blowing through red lights and stop signs with little care to himself or anyone else. When he got to Washington Park, he found an army cops by the pond, the scene cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. He slammed on the brakes, threw open the door, and jumped out without even turning off the engine.
The body was rolled up in a carpet and lying on the bank. Two beat cops unrolled it at Bruce’s direction. “We should wait for -” one of them started, but Bruce cut him off.
“Do it.”
They compiled, and at the carpet’s center, like a rotten cream filling, was the body of Vanessa Rodregiuez. Her head was tilted to one side, her eyes wide and staring. Her throat had been mangled and ripped away, her head nearly severed. Even in the black and red mess, Bruce could make out the teeth marks and puncture wounds. They may have looked like something else to anyone else who saw them, but he knew, in that moment, what they were dealing with.
A sharp pang of horror sliced through him, and his knees went weak.
“Jesus Christ,” one of the beat cops drew.
Bruce fell to, rather than knelt on, one knee. He bent over the body, a mixture of horror and grief welling his throat. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her in death, but he stayed his hand. Instead, he visually examined the body. She had bruises on her face, defensive wounds on her hands, and her gun was gone. Whoever had attacked her, she put up a fight.
Something glinted on her pants.
“What’s that?” one of the cops asked.
“I dunno,” the other replied, “but it’s all over the carpet.”
Indeed, there were glinty little specks all over it, winking like mocking eyes. Nice work, eh? We really fucked her up, didn’t we? Wink wink.
“It looks like…”
The other cop cut him off. “Glitter.”
Bruce flashed back to his visit to Club Vlad the other day.
There had been glitter everywhere.
Bruce stood up.
He had work to do.
***
Instead of going back to the station to start his shift, Bruce went to Lowes. There, he bought a mallet, a gas can, and a dozen sticks of wood. An employee in a blue vest used a machine to sharpen them to a wicked point and he took his purchases to the car. Next, he drove over to the Mobil station and filled the gas can. He was so hellbent on revenge that he sprang for premium, the good stuff. No expense shall be spared.
His final stop was at a Catholic church. He filled a canteen with holy water from the marble font by the door, then swiped a crucifix from the wall. He stopped by the station, went inside, and grabbed a black duffle bag with POLICE written across the front in yellow. He opened the gun cabinet in his office, took out a shotgun, and loaded it with shells. He grabbed a handful from the box and stuffed them into his pocket.
He was just finishing up when Bertha came in. “There you are,” she spat, “I’ve waited long enough for you to do something. I demand -”
Bruce shoved the duffle bag into her arms. “Make yourself useful.”
“What?” she demanded.
“We’re going to get your granddaughter,” Bruice lied. Kind of.
Bertha’s demeanor changed. “Good. It’s about time. I was starting to think you were a complete incompetent.”
Bruce didn’t answer. Outside, he plucked the bag out of Bertha’s hands and tossed it into the backseat. He slipped behind the wheel and Bertha sat in the passenger seat. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Club Vlad,” Bruce said and started the engine.
“I want all of them arrested.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bruce said.
She barked orders the entire way there. Bruce was so deep in his thoughts that he barely heard her. The image of Vanessa’s ruined throat and terror-twisted face haunted him, and he felt a lump forming in his throat. Hot tears filled his eyes but he blinked them back and forced himself to calm down.
I’ll cry when I’m done killing, he thought.
A few minutes later, he pulled to the curb in front of Club Vlad. It was a hot and sunny day and the place seemed even more ominous because of it. The windows were black, the front cast in perpetual shadows by the old marquee from when it used to be a theater. The place was surely closed, but Bruce could hear music still playing from inside, some techno dance bullshit. “Alright,” he said, “let’s go.”
Getting out, he slung the dufflebag over his shoulder and carried the shotgun, the canteen full of holy water clasped to his belt. Bertha carried the gas can, looking confused. “Why do we need this?” she asked.
“We’re burning the place down.”
Bertha blinked in surprise…then an evil grin carved across her face. “That’ll show the bastards.”
Unlike last time, the door was locked. Bruce used the butt of the shotgun to break the glass, then reached inside and unlocked the door, being careful not to cut himself. This was the point of no return. What he had in mind would probably get him kicked off the force or even thrown in jail - and we all know how tough jail can be for a former barnaclehead. The memory of Vanessa’s contorted face pushed him on, however.
He’d suffer any consequences he needed to just so long as he got the sons of bitches who did this to her.
Inside, the club was cool and cave-like. Strobe lights flashed, on and off, black and white, dazzling Bruce’s eyes. The bartender was at his station, cleaning up from the night before. When he saw Bruce and Bertha come in, he started. Bruce pointed the shotgun at him. “Don’t fucking move,” he commanded.
The bartender hesitated, then reached for something under the bar.
The shotgun kicked in Bruce’s hands, and the bartender flew back, turning as he crashed into the barback. Bottles, glasses, and mugs crashed to the floor along with the bartender. Bruce racked the gun, and the shell flew out. He moved low and fast now, expecting to be swarmed by vampires, living thugs who worked for vampires, or vampire thugs who worked for themselves.
Though the shot had been like thunder, no one came.
Bruce had no idea where to go, but he imagined that vampires were naturally gravitate to the lowest part of the building. Was there a basement? Shit, he should have looked up the building plans at city hall. Damn, this is what happens when you go off half-cocked. He searched around a bit, opening doors and sweeping the rooms beyond with the shotgun. He found no basement, only stairs leading up. “Stay close,” he said to Bertha.
In the lead, Bruce crept up the stairs, the flashlight on the shotgun providing a cone of clean, white light. At the top of the stairs, he went right, and came to an office and a store room. Backtracking, and bumping into a bungling Bertha, he went into the next room. It was large and open with a vaulted ceiling, almost like a ballroom. Here the same strobe lights throbbed on and off, making him dizzy. Was this to dazzle prospective vampire hunters?
Either way, this was the place. Bodies lay strewn across the floor, some curled up on their sides and others in the classic vampire pose: Flat on their backs with their hands laced over their chests. In the center, like the sun to the planets, Merrick Garvis lay slumped back in his wheelchair, his neck exposed for any potential assassin to come and cut. Not that it would kill him. At least Bruce didn’t think it would.
“They’re all dead,” Bertha whispered. She looked around and gasped. “There’s Jessie.”
Jessie lay on her back, her hands folded on her chest. She had a ragged bullet hole in the center of her forehead. “Oh, God,” Bertha wavered, “someone shot her.”
He hoped it was Vanessa. And he hoped it fucking hurt.
Looking around, Bruce couldn’t find Dominick Mason. Was he the one who killed Vanessa? Was it a group effort? He wanted the little son of a bitch bad, but it looked like he’d have to go on without him. They didn’t have much time.
Unshouldering the duffle bag, he knelt down and rummaged around. “Start splashing that gas on the bodies,” he said.
“But -”
“Just do it,” he snapped.
There must have been a harder edge in his voice than normal, because Bertha jumped and did as she was told. She upended the can and began to splash gasoline onto the sleeping forms, the smell of it acrid and strong.
Taking out a stake and the mallet, Bruce went over to Merrick and knelt down. He gripped the stake in one hand and placed it firmly against Merrick’s chest. He brought the mallet up and hesitated, the gravity of what he was doing finally reaching him. What if he was wrong? What if -
Merrick’s head whipped up and their eyes locked.
Too late.
Bruce brought the mallet down as hard as he could. The stake drove deep into Merrick’s heart, and the vampire let out a howling screech that rang through the chamber like the cry of a banshee. His bony fingers clawed at the stake and his head whipped from side to side, his back arching and his robe coming open. In the quick strobe pattern, Bruce was shocked to see that his body was little more than a wood frame, chicken wire, and cotton balls. His blacked heart was hidden behind a screen of mesh that the stake had easily torn through. It throbbed, seemingly in time with the strobe lights, and Merrick let out another wail.
Bertha screamed, and Bruce jumped to his feet.
The vampires, drawn by their master’s cries of distress, were rising to their feet. Two, four, six of them, pale and ethereal like ghosts in a gothic mansion. They came toward Merrick, and Bruice fell back a step. The old man had gone still and lay slumped to one side, his eyes open and his mouth slack, embalming fluid leaking from the corner of his lips. Jessie bent over him and touched his face. Though she moved like a zombie, with no human emotion, Bruce was crazily sure that it was a touch of tenderness and love. Merrick didn’t stir.
He was dead.
Jessie looked at him. Yellow liquid leaked from her eyes like tears. Instead of attacking him, she turned on her grandmother and slammed her against the wall. Bertha screamed and dropped the can. It landed on its side, its contents sloshing out onto the floor. A man that resembled the pictures Bruce had seen of Joe Rossi only deader rushed him, slamming into him and knocking the shotgun aside. It hit the floor and skidded away. Joe grabbed Bruce around the throat and squeezed. Still the lights flashed, off and on, off and on. The walls thrummed with the mechanized beat of dance music, pierced only by Bertha’s screams as Jessie ripped out her throat.
Joe leaned in, his fangs wicked and glowing in the light. Bruce clawed at the monster’s face, tearing away strips of dead flesh. Joe turned his head to the side, and Bruce kneed him in the groin. Even dead, getting kicked in the balls hurt like hell, apparently. Joe’s grip loosened and Bruce was able to shove him off. Bruce unclasped the canteen and frantically screwed the cap off as Joe recovered. Joe sprang at him again, and Bruce splashed him in the face.
A sound like sizzling meat filled the air, and Joe screamed at the top of his lungs. He pressed his hands to his face and danced around the room, his skin liquifying and oozing between his fingers. The others were coming now, led by a terrible skeletal thing. Bruce scooped the shotgun off the floor, brought it around, and fired. The blast hit the thing dead center, tearing it literally in half. The top half flew back, an all too human look of surprise on its face, and the bottom half fell over with a wet thud. Another vampire came at, and Bruce slammed it across the face with the butt of the gun. He heard its jaw crack, saw teeth flying.
Bertha lay dead on the floor, Jessie bent over her. The smell of Bertha’s blood attracted the others, who seemed to forget about Bruce, Merrick, and everything else. Joe was on his knees, wailing in pain, and the skeletal thing was pulling itself toward Bertha. A feeding frenzy broke out as vampires fought to get a piece of her the way piglets might fight over their mother’s teat. Bruce watched in a mixture of horror and fascination, but recovered himself. He grabbed the gas can from the floor and dumped the rest of its contents on Merrick’s body, the feeding vampires’ backs, and the floor, using the last of it to make a little trail to the door. He tossed the can aside, bent down, and stuck a match.
A huge, fiery whump filled the room, and fire streaked along the trail. The vampires all went up in a huge ball of flames, and fire shot up Merrick’s body, catching his robe, his hair, and the wooden frame that had kept him semi upright for God knows how long. Letting out inhuman screams, the vampires broke from Bertha’s corpse. One stumbled around, bounced off the wall, and fell; another toddled toward Bruce before falling to its knees. The half skeleton kept drinking from Bertha’s neck even as it burned.
The heat was enormous, baking. Bruce backed away, and the last thing he saw before smoke obscured his vision was Merrick Garvis.
He was literally melting.
***
Dominick Mason tried to go home, but he no longer had a home. All of his worldly possessions sat on the sidewalk in front of his building, discarded coldly as easily. His key didn’t work in his door and there was a FOR RENT sign on it. Why would it be any other way? He was dead. Sooner or later, everyone forgets you when you’re dead, and all the things you held so dear wind up in the trash. It was a hard pill to swallow, but most people aren’t around to see it after they die.
He was.
From his building, he walked east toward Washington Park. In the distance, thick, black smoke billowed into the air, and sirens rose. He barely noticed and wouldn’t have cared even if he did. No more rubbernecking for him. That was for the living.
The pain that had plagued him so the previous day came back, only less this time. Maybe he was imagining it, but it was getting harder to think. Not that he cared, really. What was there to think about anyway? How he had no one to mourn or miss him? How he died and not one single person, except for maybe his mother, cared, or even noticed? How he had done nothing with his life? Even to the women he’d slept with, what was he? Just another dating app hookup. They probably didn’t even remember his name.
Merrick had been right about one thing. Death was easy. It was life that was hard…life that hurt.
With that in mind, Dominick made his way to Washington Park. It was a vast and deep place with many small caves and thickets. Kids played on the playground, their cries of laughter scenting the still air. It had grown cloudy and began to rain. Still, smoke poured into the sky in the direction of Club Vlad. Dom didn’t wish ill on Merrick and the others, didn’t hope it was them burning. He didn’t care anymore. Not about them, not about anyone. For better or worse (and he would argue it was worse), his life was over. His time came days ago, he just missed the boat.
Picking out an isolated little area, Dom sat against a tree with his legs splayed out in front of him. He titled his head back and closed his eyes. Yes, thinking was hard now. His mind felt sluggish, cold. He was thirsty…so, so thirsty, but he ignored it.
Slowly, the bugs found him. Flies buzzed around him and laid their eggs in his skin. Beetles scuttled over him, followed by worms.
Next, it was the birds. They ate out his eyes and nibbled at his blue, bloated skin.
The animals came last.
Their appetites were bigger.
And they left little remaining of poor, outcast Dominick Mason.
***
That night, Bruce sat alone in his little trailer, a bottle of whiskey wedged between his legs and unshed tears in his eyes. He stared at his reflection in the darkened TV set and took long swallows from the bottle. He planned to drink until he forgot or passed out, whichever came first. He tried to not think about Vanessa, but in his addled state, he couldn’t control himself, and began to cry. When that storm passed, like the others before it, he chugged from the bottle.
As distant church bells clanged the hour - midnight - a feeble knock came at the door. Bruce took another drink and it came again. Getting up, he stumbled, nearly fell, and gripped the bottle tightly. He didn’t want to lose one precious drop.
Again, the knock.
“I’m coming,” Bruce slurred. He staggered to the door and fought with the lock. He was dizzy and seeing double.
When he got it, he opened the door.
The bottle dropped from his hand and clanked onto the floor.
Vanessa, clad in a puke green hospital gown, stood on the step, her hands pressed to her chest and a look of anguish on her milk white face. Her head tilted to one side, the wounds on her neck cleaned but open, gaping. Her dark eyes shone with tears. “I’m dead,” she said.
Breaking down in tears, she collapsed against him and they sank to the floor. She was cold and smelled. Bruce wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest anyway. “Shhh, it’s alright,” he said drunkenly. “Hey, it’s alright.
“I’m dead,” she repeated, and her voice broke. “I don’t want to die.”
Bruce held her close, trying to warm her icy skin. He didn’t know what to say, so he cried with her.
“You’re safe now,” he said, “it’s going to be okay.”
“I want blood,” she said and sobbed harder, “I want to hurt people.”
“Shhh,” Bruce said again. “It’s okay.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a utility knife. He flicked the blade across his wrist and searing pain shot up his arm. “Here,” he said and offered her his blood, “drink this.”
He did this without care and without thought. She needed him, and one barnaclehead always backs up another.
Vanessa hesitated, looking from his face to the oozing blood, unsure.
“Go ahead,” he told her.
Vanessa brought his wrist to her mouth.
And began to drink.

First/Previous
"Watch out!" Jack yelled out to the crowd as the now-glowing overhead turrets, long dormant and forgotten, suddenly whirred to life with a mechanical hum, tracking his movements as he ran, shoving past a group of unsuspecting Xarak to the side as he moved to dodge the torrent of rapid fire aimed right at him, kicking up smoke as the superheated plasma churned the ground underneath him, before the sound of gunfire abruptly stopped.
"Fucking overheating shittubes!" the voice on the speakers cursed. "The Outsider is by the two broken pillars!"
"I see him!" a voice replied from out of the crowd as Jack got his bearings, spotting a group of three uniformed soldiers rushing towards him. As the leader moved to stab him with a nasty-looking barbed shortspear, Jack quickly juked the direction he intended to dodge, dipping to the right as he smashed the avian in the stomach with a vicious kick, shuffling back as he caught the blade of the second soldier with his bracer before throwing them off balance, lashing back at the first with his elbow as he did.
He moved to check the third that was moving to take a swing at him with a bat, but before Jack could do so the soldier was suddenly yanked back as a long, coiled leather whip snapped around them. Following along, Jack spotted an older grey-skinned ganger in black leathers with a coarse, black beard to match his scraggly hair sat down with his back to a wall, casually drinking a beer as he observed the chaos with a mischievous smirk.
As the soldier pulled back his bat to strike the interloper, the ganger grinned and looked down where his legs were already spread wide, revealing a strange metal crotch plate. Suddenly making a jerking motion with one of his legs, the plate flipped up to reveal the barrel of a huge codpiece gun that flipped up to point directly at the soldier, before it fired once, catching the solder completely by surprise as the top of their body was utterly obliterated by a bolt of powerful plasma energy. Smirking, the ganger gave Jack a wink, chugging down the rest of his drink, before charging into the brawl.
Hearing an almighty roar, Jack turned around only to be knocked back yet again as a broken, avian body was roughly lobbed at him, staggering him backwards as the Redeemer turned to the last of the bird-like gangsters, picking him up with immense strength and smashing them to the ground before advancing towards the human more cautiously this time, shoving drunken brawlers out of the way.
“I have long waited for this moment, Outsider. With your death, my King shall grant you redemption!” The Redeemer snarled. Now having a good look at him, Jack couldn’t see any visible weapons on him, which was strange. Last time, he’d brought a gunship and was taking potshots at him with some kind of high-powered rifle. Then again, considering what happened last time, maybe The Redeemer wanted the satisfaction of using his bare hands to beat him to death.
It wouldn’t be a terrible plan considering everything the Ogar had pulled off so far…
While sports on Earth were often separated by gender, despite some resistance from the more liberal-minded, due to biological differences between men and women, combat sports were a whole different game, with mixed martial arts organisations having very specific weight classes for fair competition between athletes, with two fighters of similar size and weight less likely to cause serious injury to each other.
But if you placed an experienced lightweight against even a novice heavyweight? That would introduce major problems for the smaller fighter, who would need to contend with the extra size, reach and power of their larger opponent. Not an impossible fight, but a tough one.
And Jack very much felt like a lightweight here.
Though of course, he had faced larger opponents before. Even an Ogar, though they had defeated the Laird with a cunning trap. However, he didn’t know how well matched he and The Redeemer were in a fair close-range fight outside of the opening moments of the ambush.
Still, he had little choice but to find out. He didn’t have an easy way to escape, and he didn’t know what the status of the others was. If he ran while they were still here then The Redeemer and the Regulators would simply go after them instead to get to him…
No. He couldn’t allow those thoughts to shake him. His friends knew what the hell they were doing, and they could handle themselves just fine. He had to worry about himself right now.
He couldn’t run, so he had to fight.
With a speed he didn’t expect from The Redeemer, they grabbed a nearby chair and lobbed it right at Jack in one smooth motion before following through with another charge.
‘Aegis!’ Jack yelled as he brought his forearm up, as his new and improved shield eagerly sprung up to take the hit from the chair, before a fist smacked into the side of his head as The Redeemer used the chair as a distraction to change his angle of attack.
Spinning with the blow, Jack fought in his mind to stay in the fight as his vision blurred, with the powerful strike threatening to knock him out then and there, before another fist caught him in the stomach, with his battleskin dispersing a hit that would have otherwise easily taken the air out of his lungs.
Retracting his shield, Jack ducked another punch that threatened to decapitate him as he skidded under the blow, parrying a backfist with his forearm that tingled painfully as he ate the blow, before clocking the Redeemer with a punch to the jaw, his gauntlet extending to cover his knuckles with a well-forged plate of metal to add their power to the strike, before the Redeemer threw out a punch that caught him on the shoulder, sending the deathworlder reeling back.
Jack grit his teeth as he fought through the pain, adrenaline rushing through him. He wasn’t out of the fight yet, but he knew he’d gotten the worst of that engagement.
The Redeemer clearly understood this as well, as the zealot strode towards the human with a confident, wicked grin.
But this time, Jack was ready.
‘Caltrops’ Jack whispered the command word, as his gauntlets gave him a good handful of them, subtly tossing them in front of him with an underhand throw, which had gone unnoticed by the Redeemer as they stared at the human with hatred.
Suddenly dashing forward to quickly close the remaining distance between them, the Redeemer roared as he charged Jack again, suddenly grunting in pain and stumbling as his full, heavy mass sent a sharp, painful spike straight through his armoured boot, causing him to lose focus as he looked down at his foot for just a moment to see what had happened.
A moment of distraction that Jack used to its fullest, as he quickly swung his axe down right at The Redeemer’s head.
However, the Ogar reacted with surprising dexterity as he used his forward momentum to avoid the full force of the axeblade, his metal helmet taking a glancing blow as he shoved Jack off balance, causing him to stumble. Quickly predicting what would come next, Jack dropped his axe on purpose as he prepared for a takedown attempt, dropping low and widening his stance as the Redeemer tackled him around the waist to try and bring him to the ground for a quick finish.
“There will be no salvation for you, human!” The Ogar growled through his pain as Jack was forced back by the Redeemer’s superior strength.
“Aww, did you miss me?” Jack taunted, holding on and walking back with the ever increasing momentum The Redeemer was building as he was pushed back along the dancefloor. “I saw your tantrum on the TV afterwards, didn’t know you were a bitch too!”
‘That’s it, asshole.’ Jack thought to himself as he felt his axe clip back onto his back. ‘Get mad. You showed me last time that you like to talk too much. I need to time this right…'
“Your blasphemy ends here Outsider! I shall smite you in the name of my King!” The insane zealot roared out in an enraged challenge.
With a roar the Redeemer pushed with much greater strength, forcing Jack to change his slow backpedalling into a full on sprint as he scrambled to stay on his feet, fighting to keep his grip above that of the Redeemer’s to maintain his control of the grapple for as long as he could as he was gradually being put off-balance, almost being lifted upwards.
‘I’ve got to hold on until the last possible moment…’ Jack thought to himself, as tables, chairs and people alike were battered to the side.
‘Now!’
As the wooden pillar supporting the balcony passed them in a blur, Jack shifted his weight to the left and relinquished the grapple, using the Redeemer’s momentum against him as he shoved the Redeemer off balance, as they smashed into the crumbling brick wall head first with an almighty crash.
As they stumbled back, yanking their head back out through the newly formed hole, Jack growled as grabbed the Redeemer around the top of one of his legs, yelling with effort as he was only just able to lift the Redeemer up and over him, slamming the Ogar down on the top of his head as hard as he could in a vicious suplex that gave a satisfying crack.
Growling with effort, the Redeemer pushed himself back into a crouch and looked up just in time as Jack’s foot smacked into the side of his head in a savage kick that cracked his metal helmet and dislodged one of his fangs. Roaring in rage and pain, the Redeemer got to his feet only to meet a flying knee that shattered his nose as his helmet cracked and dented with the heavy impacts.
“Redeem that you ugly cunt!” Jack growled, moving in for another strike as the Redeemer shoved him away, showing no signs of faltering as he slowly got to his feet, even after the devastating blows he just took. The Redeemer simply gave Jack a wicked grin of satisfaction, before it fell slightly upon seeing something to Jack’s side.
As Jack’s Ring of the Berserker vibrated again, he spun around to spot a large, lanky Vivren with several piercings in overt heavy armour grinning at him with malicious intent as she pointed a wand at him and cast a word of power.
Before he had any time to react, Jack’s entire body erupted in a wave of agony unlike anything he had ever felt before…
*****
“Fuck! Alora! Sephy? Chiyo? Dante?” Nika coughed as she got up from where the balcony had collapsed from under them.
Looking around, she could see even more patrons fighting around them, revelling in the chaos of the brawl, but she couldn’t spot any of her friends in the immediate aftermath, as thick dust plumed out from the wreckage below her.
‘At least the crew of the ship we’re meant to be travelling on are probably out by now.’ The Kizun thought to herself. ‘Can’t go back, the CorvMart crew will have moved on by now, so sticking to the original plan is probably the best move, unless we can steal a vehicle one of us knows how to pilot.’
Assessing the situation before her, Nika went for her bo staff, though made sure that her shotgun was well within easy reach. Though many of the people fighting around her looked rough, they weren’t attacking her or her friends, and until that changed they could make good allies of convenience, or for a smokescreen to give their enemies the slip if they had to run.
Though slaying as many of their attackers as they could would be preferable.
‘Best way to do that is link up with the others, we’re better as a unit.’ She reasoned, hearing an almighty crash. ‘Well, that’s probably Jack.’
Dodging a thrown bottle as a Squarri ganger missed their intended target - a pissed-off looking quadrupedal furry species that Nika didn’t recognise - before dodging a swing of a bat from a Xarak that saw her as an easy target. Quickly raising her staff she parried the backswing before cracking the other end of the staff across the reptilian’s face, knocking the rough-looking thug out as he collapsed to the ground.
Yet before Nika could think to move on from the conflict, she had to dodge out of the way using her tail as a large Balnath with some kind of cleaver-like sword took a swing at her. Recognising the sigil of the Regulator group Chiyo had told them to watch out for - a stern-looking demonic rune surrounded by a neon-red triangle - Nika parried the next sword swipe from the figure.
“Let me guesth, you want to get to the Outthider?” The Balnath sneered at the Kizun with a lisp so thick that in any other situation she’d have to stop herself from laughing. “I’m stho thorry, but we can’t let you have sthilly ideas like that!”
“Are you for fucking real?” Nika asked as she dodged to the side and put some space between them before quickly switching to her shotgun, letting loose a powerful blast that the Balnath was able to raise his shield up to block.
‘Skill like that? Probably the leader or an officer of some kind.’ The Kizun noted to herself. ‘No choice. I’ve got to kill him.’
“Yeah, I know that you’re finking! You fink my teef make me sound sthupid?” The Balnath growled, with a few experimental chomps. “Well these teef like to gnaw and gnasth on Kizun flesth!”
“Come and try it!” Nika snarled as she twirled her staff around her in a well-practised flourish, eagerly accepting the challenge.
The Balnath charged forward with lightning speed as it came at Nika with a series of feints, before swiping at her with a brutal overhand chop, using both hands. The Kizun was able to deftly parry with her staff, the kinetic modules battering her opponent’s grip to the side, though she felt the strength behind the blow and knew that the Balnath was stronger.
Still, she knew she could take him.
Ever since she was little she had roughhoused with her brothers and the local boys in fights around their ranch, and had learned the hard way from an early age that her gender and short build worked against her when facing her peers, so she had trained to be the strongest she could be, and learned to be quick and tactical to make the best use of that.
She had eventually kept up with the neighbourhood boys, using holds and precise strikes until her elders found out what she was doing when she was meant to be working on the ranch to help the family scrape by, and quickly put a stop to the shenanigans.
When she moved to the city, she only got better from there.
The tip of her staff thundered against the Balnath’s shield like the striking of a gong, forcing the larger being back as Nika could tell he was already tiring. Though she wanted to finish this fight quickly and get to her friends, she knew she couldn’t allow herself to give her opponent an opening, even as she sought to exploit an opening of her own. She had to be patient.
Her staff rattled against the shield again and again, as she felt her opponent’s defence get weaker and weaker, with the powerful force of her kinetic module focusing the strength of her strikes into a single point. Eventually something would break, his shield of his arm. Once his defences were finally down, she would go in swiftly for the kill.
Her opponent’s frustration won out as his shield shattered and fell to the floor, forcing him to attack Nika with a vicious two handed swipe. She blocked the strike handily, before the Balnath grabbed her staff, locking them in a clinch.
“Giff me sthome help over ‘ere!” The Balnath called out, as Nika reached for a knife, forcing the Balnath to adjust his stance as she stabbed blindly, glancing off armoured plates before finding purchase somewhere, causing her attacker to grunt with pain as he shoved her back, holding her up against a wall.
‘Shit.’ She cursed in her mind. ‘He’s stronger than me, but all I need is a moment to take him by surprise and I can break away and kill him!’
She held strong with her arms, holding the Balnath back as his jaws snapped shut barely an inch away from her neck. He tried again, and she pushed back harder, the jaws snapping shut around nothing, but much closer this time.
He tried again, bringing his vicious maw even closer still…
‘Gotcha!’ Nika thought to herself, as she jerked her head forward in a headbutt, catching the Balnath by surprise and giving the Kizun the space she needed to bring her knees up to her chin, before kicking out as hard as she could into the face of the Balnath, knocking him back with a roar of pain, before he leapt forward with a side swipe that Nika used her tail to quickly dodge, before in the same motion she brought the tip of her staff round and smacked the Balnath as hard as she could, right in the face, the powerful strike shattering its lower jaw completely.
“My fathce!” the attacker got out, clutching what little remained of his lower jaw, before looking up in the next moment as they stared down the barrel of Nika’s shotgun.
“Plea-” They got out, before their head was obliterated in an explosion of dark, blackish blood as their body clattered uselessly to the ground.
“Fuck you.” The Kizun retorted. Using her tail to quickly clip the sword to the magnets of her armour, Nika could see more Regulators in the crowd heading towards the DJ booth. Quickly checking her weapons, she headed right into the brawl!
*****
“You don’t belong here, girlie!” the thug cackled as their cybernetic arm crackled with electric discharge.
“Replacto!” Alora snarled as she swiped her wand out, blasting her attacker with a sudden flash of light that sent him stumbling back, clutching at his eyes.
“Anyone else?” Alora asked, trying her best to channel Nika’s cool, calm demeanour, crossed with Jack’s intimidating presence as the cluster of gangers and mercenaries all looked around at each other for just a moment, before deciding that the Eladrie wasn’t actually that intimidating, as one tried to rush her with a broken chair.
‘Oh by the Mother Tree! How do those two do it?’ Alora cursed in her mind as she summoned her spiritual weapon - a spear of light - that she quickly stabbed at the fish-like Osi, gutting them in the stomach which quickly made them drop the chair, while Alora wisely moved to the side to get out of the vicious melee happening all around her. Where were the others?
‘I have to make sure they’re all right.’ the Eladrie determinedly told herself as she began casting another, more complicated spell…
“Attention all idiots!” The voice over the speakers sneered out over the ever-changing music that the DJ didn’t seem to have any control over. “We discussed this. Though the Outsider is a priority, you target the spellcasters first if you can! Must I do everything myself?”
Thrumming with sudden power, the turrets above them finally opened fire, shooting almost indiscriminately at the crowd below, cutting several of the brawling patrons down before they even knew what hit them.
Chanting and waving her hands around as quickly as she dared, Alora maintained her concentration of her spell, completing it just in time as the turrets finally tracked her as she summoned a great holy aura of light to cover herself that would give her the protection she needed, the Armour of Faith deflecting the lights of the laser turrets harmlessly aside.
A loud bark sounded out, and knowing Dante’s warning for what it was, Alora spun around to see two Regulators, who were both Vulstas fighting through the brawl to get to her. Unlike Rena, these two were males, both carrying plasma shotguns but unable to get effective shots off through the crowd. Not that something like that stopped them from trying…
“Stevarin!” she yelled out, pointing her wand at one of the two who was about to open fire on a downed ganger, as with a flash of yellow light their movements slowed, quickly freezing stiff as a board as they failed to resist the Holding spell, their eyes widening in sheer terror as the gang-mates of their would-be-victim set upon them in a fury with fists and clubs, before a spell cast from the rafters sent all of them clattering to the ground clutching at their minds.
‘One of the enemy mages providing overwatch.’ Alora noted as she quickly looked up for any sign of them, but not seeing them. ‘Under a veil of invisibility no doubt.’
Feeling the dull impact of a shotgun blast dissipate harmlessly against her magical armour, Alora spun round to the other Regulator, cursing her moment of hesitation as the Vulsta drew a long knife with which to get in close with.
Remembering her fight with Izadora all those weeks ago, Alora waved her arms around quickly to summon a bubble of light to engulf her, before quickly following it up with an explosive flash that thundered all around her like a flashbang grenade, while leaving her unharmed.
As the light dissipated, she deftly avoided the blind lunge from the temporarily blinded Regulator, before jamming her spear into his stomach, using her reach advantage to dodge the desperate swipes he sent her way.
“Garrash!” Alora spoke a quick cantrip, using her affinity with life magic to channel poison through the top of her spear. Her already-weakened attacker quickly slumped to the ground as the debilitating effects took hold, but before Alora could pull her spear back, she was hit by a spell that came from above, disrupting her magic and causing her magical spear and armour to disappear.
‘Damn! It’s that mage above me!’ Alora cursed to herself as she quickly ran underneath one of the balconies, as the turrets chased after her with gunfire. ‘You want to hide in the shadows like a coward? I’ve got something to fix that!’
Quickly making sure there weren’t any immediate threats around, Alora quickly rummaged through her pockets for a wand of white crystal she had prepared about a year ago that still had a few charges. Casting quickly, she levelled it towards the ceiling and prayed to all the gods that she was aiming it at where the enemy mage was hiding,
“Glitasha!”
A spray of shining, sparkling particles of light shot out of her wand, puffing out to cover a good half of the ceiling, and as they began to fall to the floor and latch on to the people below, Alora spotted a huddled form by one of the rafters.
‘Got you!’ She thought with satisfaction.
“Ilthax! Get out of there!” The voice over the speakers warned, presumably the name of her target, but it was too late…
“Solaris!” Alora yelled, throwing her palms out in a thrust as a great javelin of light shot out of her palms. The enemy mage had barely moved before it impaled their centre of mass, sending what must have been a fireball spell way off target which blasted apart a huge, gaping hole in the back wall.
The invisible form of the glitterdust-covered mage slowly began to materialise as the blue-furred, ape-like Regulator clutched at their chest in pain, with wide eyes of disbelief at the spear of hard light that had gone right through their torso. As their flight spell dissipated, their lifeless body fell three stories from the rafters to slam down on the ground floor below.
“Nice one Alora!” the Eladrie heard the voice call from behind her as Nika came up next to her, the Kizun bleeding from a cut on her face. “Where are the others?”
“I don’t know. But we need to find them now!” Alora frantically told them as she took in the sheer state of chaos around them. Many broken bodies lay amongst the carnage, and though the Eladrie knew some would likely be still alive at the end of the night, she knew that many would not.
“You don’t need to tell me twice!” Nika agreed with a grim expression.
*****
First/Previous
Looks like Jack, Nika and Alora are holding on for now! But how long can they keep it up?
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Switch

• Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom (sealed, SEA variant)
• Monster Hunter Rise Pro Controller (w/ box only)
• VORI Black Foam Carrying Case
  • includes strap, case is better for stationary storage than transportation though

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Wii

• Black Nintendo Wii Box ONLY
  • Nintendo & American Heart Association Edition (link to page on ConsoleVariations)
  • overall fantastic condition, been in storage since the console was opened
  • comes with inserts and sleeves only, no console/cords/Wiimotes, manuals, or games included
• Star Wars: The Force Unleashed (disc and box)
• Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess (CIB)
• Super Smash Bros. Brawl (no manual)

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Nintendo 3/DS

• Super Mario 3D Land (CIB, Nintendo Selects)
• Super Smash Bros 3DS (loose)
• Pokemon Y (loose)
• Pokemon Pearl (w/ box and manual)
• Pokemon White (CIB)
• Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days (loose)

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PS2

• All games include their box unless noted, any that include a manual/inserts are noted. All stickers are on the outside of the box plastic, not on the cover art!
• Driver 3 (w/ manual)
• DT Racer (w/ manual, back of cover art punctured)
• Fight Night 2004 (w/ manual)
• Fight Night Round 2 (w/ manual)
• Fight Night Round 3 (w/ manual)
• God of War 2 (Greatest Hits, w/ manual, no bonus disc)
• Gran Turismo 4 (w/ manual and insert)
• Heroes of the Pacific (w/ manual)
• History Channel Civil War: A Nation Divided (w/ manual)
• Hitman: Blood Money (w/ manual and bonus disc)
• Knockout Kings 2002 (w/ manual)
• Madden 06 (w/ manual)
• MLB 2k5 (loose disc only)
• Mortal Kombat: Deception (loose disc only, many scratches)
• Nascar 06: Total Team Control (w/ manual)
• Nascar 07 (w/ manual)
• Nascar: Dirt to Daytona
• NBA Live 2005 (w/ manual)
• NFL Head Coach (w/ manual and insert)
• Pro Race Driver (w/ manual)
• Red Dead Revolver (Greatest Hits)
• Rock Band (no instruments)
• Scarface: The World is Yours (Collector's Edition, CIB)
• Short Track Racing: Trading Paint (Gamestop case)
• SOCOM US Navy Seals Combined Assault (w/ manual and insert)
• Spartan Total Warrior
• Sprint Cars: Road to Knoxville (w/ manual)
• Sprint Cars 2: Showdown at Eldora (w/ manual)
• Suzuki TT Superbikes (w/ manual)
• Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2003 (w/ manual)
• Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six 3 (Greatest Hits)
• Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell
• Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell: Pandora Tomorrow (w/ manual and insert)
• UFC Sudden Impact (w/ manual)
• UFC Throwdown (w/ manual)
• World Series of Poker: Tournament of Champions (w/ manual)
• World Soccer: Winning Eleven 9 (w/ manual)

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Other

• PC - Dungeon Siege 2: Deluxe Edition (w/ map and game keys)
• PC - Battle Realms (loose)

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Accessories/Merch

• Accessory - NYKO Xbox One Direct Console Charge Base w/ batteries
  • fits flush with Xbox One when plugged in, batteries are well used but still hold a decent charge
• Guide - Prima Games Official Pokemon Diamond & Pearl Scenario Guide (no poster, fair condition)
• Merch - 2007 Diamond & Pearl Box Tin - Holiday Empoleon
• Merch - 2016 Triple Power Tin - Shiny Gyarados
• Battery - 3x OEM GBA SP batteries
  • all tested and working, all have small bloat

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Free w/ Any Trade

• Wii - The Bigs (loose, heavily scratched)
• PS4 - Fallout 76 (PAL, CIB)
• PSP - Syphon Filter: Logan's Shadow (loose, no casing, untested)
• Headset - OEM PS4 Mono Headset (never used)
• Accessory - 2x Nintendo Switch Lite Tempered Glass Screen Protector
• Accessory - 3x Unbranded GBA Cartridge Holders
• Battery - Non-OEM GBA SP battery (working fine)
• Battery - Dead OEM GBA SP battery (tested & not working)
• Other - Replacement GBA SP buttons & membranes
  • from RetroGameRepairShop, not OEM, buttons are clear black

Wants

Higher Priority	Lower Priority
Pokemon XD: Gale of Darkness (CIB or box w/ all inserts only)	Pokemon Let's Go Eevee (w/ box)
Pokemon SoulSilver CIB or Big Box only (great condition, few signs of damage)	Bayonetta 2 for Switch (sealed)
Pokewalker stuff: two foam slips for Pokewalkers, will consider Pokewalkers in good condition (lower priority than the foam slips)	Pokemon Stadium 2 Box w/ Inserts (any condition, little to no tears preferred)
Pokemon Black or White edition DSi console (loose or CIB)	Cases/boxes/inserts/games to complete my loose items listed
JFC Brand Grip for PS Vita 1000 (new/used)	PS2 game offers (Current specific wants: Bully, Prince of Persia: Sands of Time, Kingdom Hearts, Fullmetal Alchemist: Curse of the Crimson Elixir)
"New" 3DS OEM Faceplates (preference for Pokemon but feel free to offer me any)	BoxyPixel Unhinged Shell (Black or Purple preferred, open to offers on other colors)
GameBoy Micro OEM Faceplates (any except 20th Anniversary)	Xenoblade Chronicles 2 Switch Pro Controller (w/ box)
GameBoy Micro OEM Charger	Special Edition 2DS Consoles (slate model)
OEM PS2 Compatible Component cables (NOT composite cables)	Phat NDS (screens must be in great shape, very few/no scatches, no dead pixels)
LoZ: TotK Pro Controller (w/ box)	Pokemon GB/A with dead batteries
Waterfield City Slicker Case for "New" 3DS	Pokemon Merch (plushies, pins, etc, just show me what you got)
Pokemon Crystal (any condition)	Black Joy Con wrist strap (only need one)
Broken/Non-working handhelds (GB, GBC, GBA, PSP, etc), broken Nintendo consoles (old to new), non-working Pokemon cartridges	Offers/Lists

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1. The Bat in the Belfry - 3/5 (In terms of a Batman introduction episode, this does a decent job. It skips the origin story because superhero cartoons are allergic to them for some reason. But this at least vaguely alludes to Bruce's parents being gone, on top of introducing the struggle of being both a famous playboy and the Batman. As a result, the story is fairly generic though. Joker wants to release a laughing gas across Gotham. Gee, I haven't seen that one a dozen times. That said, this iteration of Joker has a really unique and wacky design. Along with zany acrobatic moves that are fun to watch and a great performance from Kevin Michael Richardson, it more than makes up for the subpar story. I also liked the side focus on Bennett and Fa Mulan- Sorry, Detective Yin. They're fun characters.)
2. Call of the Cobblepot - 3/5 (Penguin is quite acrobatic for a pudgy little guy. Alongside Rupert Thorne doing parkour in the previous episode, it seems the show wants to sell me on the idea that these chubby guys are just as combat capable as the Batman. And did they really have to give him the Danny DeVito hands? That's not a mandate anymore! I liked Alfred getting involved in this episode, though he doesn't really do much besides go to the Cobblepot manor. But it's funny that he does so in search of a tray.)
3. Traction - 4/5 (Colorful iteration of Bane. Why is his skin all red? He looks like a monster. But it's a cool twist on the character, so whatever. Although his motivations don't match up to the rad design, since after getting paid to destroy the Batman, all he wants to do is "take over Gotham", which he apparently thinks will be accomplished by just wreaking havoc. What is this, The Spectacular Spider-Man? I did like Alfred having to come and rescue Bruce, and the cute flashback where Alfred comforts him.)
4. The Cat and the Bat - 3/5 (This one's good, but mostly for the action setpieces. I think the rugged artstyle lends itself very well to snappy action, particularly the final scene with the Batman and Catwoman against the Yakuza. And the stuff before with Batman having to catch up to Selina messing with his Batmobile controls was neat too. But I can't say Catwoman leaves much of an impression on me in this one.)
5. The Man Who Would Be Bat - 4/5 (Kirk Langstrom as a character works pretty well as a kooky old man. I liked the visuals for his echolocation. As for the actual story...I mean it's just a typical Man-Bat story. Langstrom becomes the Man-Bat and goes crazy, so Batman stops him. But I did like the larger inclusion of Bennett and Yin, as I like their additions in this show as foils-yet-vaguely-allies to Batman.)
6. The Big Chill - 3/5 (So in this show Mr. Freeze is just another generic jewel thief. Not that I want this series to just copy paste Batman: The Animated Series, but simplifying the villains like this makes it less compelling by default. In fact here, he was always a criminal, he just happened to get ice powers. That said, his design is actually quite rad, and I did like the addition that he has a vendetta against the Batman. Plus it's funny that he took revenge on a random hobo, just for being in his way a few years ago.)
7. The Big Heat - 4/5 (Gee, I bet the writers thought they were hilarious putting these two titles next to each other. I'd say what this episode does slightly better than the others is showing the "struggle" of balancing the Bruce life with the Batman life. And actually giving the villain a narrative connection to it, instead of his schemes just serving as a vague lesson to learn. Firefly himself had a pretty cool looking suit, and the sky action was pretty nifty. Plus it was cathartic when Batman took him down to ground level and stomped. Nitpick: They forgot to animate Batman's mouth in the reflection of the puddle. I hope somebody got fired for that blunder.)
8. Q&A - 4/5 (Bruce listening to hiphop in his earbuds at a classical music theatre... Yeah this sure is a unique Batman. This is the first episode where I was genuinely interested in the story and villain. For starters, since they didn't immediately show me who it was, I got to remain curious about the kidnappings. Then I appreciated that they were connected to a personal vendetta rather than just wanting to steal jewels. I think Batman discovered the mystery a bit too quickly though. He didn't research the victims connections, he just clicked a button and the Batwave did it for him. But I enjoyed Cluemaster. Funny design. He's HUGE. I chuckled at Batman casually walking into his his moms house and her thinking she's his friend. And I thought it was fun how he defeated Cluemaster by asking the Batman's identity. Side note, that is an enormous basement.)
9. The Big Dummy - 4/5 (Wow, it's Homer Simpson! Well actually, Scarface sounds more like Krusty the Clown when he's yelling. That aside, we're back to villains just wanting to steal stuff for profit. Yeah, sure, whatever. Scarface trying to slap Batman was funny, though. And I found the idea of making him a huge puppet where Wesker himself takes the puppet position by the giant arm a funny twist on the character. The vague subplot about Bruce having a date with some Becky chick feels kind of tacked on and unnecessary, but I digress.)
10. Topsy Turvy - 4/5 (First "villain comes back for revenge" episode. Joker's plan is unfortunately fairly generic, but his zaniness still makes it fun. Not to mention seeing the Batman locked in an Arkham cell and dressing up as Joker. Why did Batman lock in the guard when leaving though? Rude for no reason. Also, I'm glad the fake Joker in this episode had to stay quiet so he won't be found out, unlike in The New Batman Adventures where a goon dressed up as Joker can just perfectly imitate his voice.)
11. Bird of Prey - 4/5 (Okay, I'm just gonna say it: Stop showing front facing Alfred! Without that little patch of visible hair, he looks completely bald, and it's weird! That aside, I guess after the series of villain introduction episodes, it's time for a batch of sequels. This is the better sequel than the Joker one, since I liked that Penguin had a clear cut motive. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but Penguin's zaniness was more amusing. No doubt helped by Tom Kenny's performance. Him wreaking havoc around Wayne Manor and harassing Alfred was just funny. And it made Alfred hitting him with a chair in the end better. I thought his rooftop battle with the Batman was pretty creative, and I liked that Alfred dressed up as Batman to fool the journalist. Also how he intentionally kicked their video tape into the fire.)
12/13. The Rubber Face of Comedy/The Clayface of Tragedy - 4/5 (The cops literally have Joker at gunpoint but they let him proceed with his slow getaway. I'm starting to understand why Batman keeps one-upping them. Great two-parter though, but part 1 is really nothing but setup for the real meat which is part 2. Part 1 is just about Joker causing chaos again, except the tone is more dramatic on account of this being meant to be more serious than the average episode. And while Joker's antics are fun, given how little it had to do with part 2 other than him being the cause for Bennett becoming Clayface, they didn't really need to spend a WHOLE episode for just that setup. It results in part 1 being just good, while part 2 is fantastic. Sadly, combined, I can't give them 5/5. But part 2 gets that honorary score for itself. You could have cut Joker's generic havoc-wreaking in half and have the Clayface transformation start around the 10 minute mark of part 1, leaving you with about 30 minutes to develop it further. But then they couldn't have that cliffhanger, now could they?
As for the actual story... Depressing. I'd say it's a bit early to change the status quo of Bennett since while he is a good character, we haven't really seen MUCH of him, so it's not a huge blow to suddenly make him a villain. But it's a pretty good, genuinely saddening twist regardless. And while the emotional moments feel a little hurried (hence why you could have cut some Joker nonsense) I think they're effective enough. Yin crying, etc. And Bennett's transformation itself is genuinely horrifying stuff, so you really feel the fear he must be going through.)
14. The Cat, the Bat, and the Very Ugly - 3/5 (And now we're on villain team-up episodes. Except they're still just generic stories about them wanting to steal stuff! Well, okay, I guess Penguin DOES want to use the relics to... I don't know, blow stuff up? It just isn't very riveting is all. I do find Batman and Catwoman being stuck to each other interesting in theory, but they don't really do much fun with it. And why did Batman lie to Yin about it? I guess he's worried he'll look suspicious if he's with Catwoman, but also, he could have just told the truth? The lie just incriminated him more. I also question this because the episode ends with Yin TRUSTING Batman, which makes no sense if she literally caught him in a lie the FIRST time she called him about a case.)
15. Riddled - 3/5 (That's certainly a unique version of Riddler. I respect it, simply because it's fun that the show dares to completely revamp characters like this. But the episode itself is mostly just decent. Yin and Bats going across town solvring riddles is mildly fun, but the actual confrontation with Riddler is just okay. I did like the 20 questions game, but couldn't Batman easily get out of that by not answering? I found it funny how dense the Police Chief was to understand even the simplest riddles, especially with how bluntly Yin had to explain the last one. Side note: Riddler uses the term "brainiac" in this. But that term exists because of the Superman character. So has a Brianiac attack on Metropolis happened here and been made publicly known or what?)
16. Fire & Ice - 4/5 (Gee, with a title like that, I sure was scratching my head wondering which two villains it could be about. I'd say while this episode is good, it felt a bit thinly set up as nothing but "what if ice villain with fire villain??". I did find it amusing that they turned on each other near the end and the conflict just became Heat vs. Cold. That scene with Yin yapping about knowing Bruce's secret though... Give me a break. Even if they WERE gonna have her find out his secret identity, that's most certainly saved for a Serious:tm: season finale or something with heavy stakes, not a random Firefly episode.)
17. The Laughing Bat - 4/5 (Golden concept for an episode. Joker trying to imitate the Batman is unhinged and hilarious. And Penguin being caught in the crossfire completely discombobulated by the switcheroo was great. Praise aside, I was a little disappointed that Batman turning into Joker didn't go further than...he can't stop laughing. Couldn't have Joker-ified him any more? White skin? ANYTHING else to have him also vaguely look the part? Overall I also felt there was too much focus on Bruce laughing as opposed to Joker being the Batman, when that was the best part.)
18. Swamped - 3/5 (While I appreciate that this is a villain introduction episode that goes beyond them being a jewel thief", Croc wasn't too interesting. He wants to flood Gotham because he likes water, but then Batman stops him. Although I liked the way he did it by forcing him to stay in water. :ohgood: Also neat that this episode introduces the Batcave "museum". This series gradually introducing all of these iconic aspects of Batman lore as opposed to having it all pre-established is fun.)
19. Pets - 4/5 (Season 2 really IS the season of villain team-ups. I was rolling my eyes at the prospect of another generic Penguin episode of him wanting to steal stuff, but got my excitement back up when they showed Langstrom. Although they could have devoted some more time to Langstrom actually being aware of Penguin's scheme and wanting out instead of just... One. And overall, it IS just another episode where Penguin tries to steal stuff, so yeah.)
20. Meltdown - 4/5 (Wow, this was JUST like the Batman Beyond episode "Meltdown". While a good episode, I have to say the Bennett-Clayface conflict feels a bit forced at times. Him repeatedly getting into encounters with Joker, the very man who caused him to become Clayface, and struggling with not morphing to take his rightful revenge? Valid. Understandable. But him randomly being willing to kill Batman and become an outlaw on a whim? I don't know. His fight scene against Joker on stilts was pretty fun though. That said, Bennett is a good guy and all that, so I'm hopeful for a redemption arc where in the end he becomes a superhero with his powers.)
21. JTV - 4/5 (It's another Joker shenanigans episode. What is there to say? Not that that's a bad thing, since Joker shenanigans ARE fun. He concocts some nutty TV show-themed scheme, and then Batman stops him. Cash was a bit of an annoying inclusion though. Did he even serve any narrative purpose? I guess he vaguely emphasizes how well Yin and Batman work together, by him working badly with her. I did like the "animated" JTV promo. But who even made that? I guess one of Joker's henchmen can animate.)
22. Ragdolls to Riches - 4/5 (Oh boy, the umpteenth episode about a villain stealing some jewels. Wait, it's TWO villains this time. Wow, this changes everything! Jokes aside, it actually kind of does, because Ragdoll is entertaining enough on his own. His costume is cool and unique in its simplicity, and his distorting body leads to some very expressive movements and action which make for a fun watch. And if that wasn't enough, his rivarly with Catwoman and repeatedly trolling her on purpose was pretty darn amusing. Though despite being the titular character, the episode is mostly about the Bruce/Batman/Selina/Catwoman mystery. It is fun seeing the "4" of them interact and not realize who the other is. Especially when Batman, the world's greatest detective, believes Selina's blatant charity scam and hands her a huge check. It's funny seeing Bruce be this oblivious.)
23. The Butler Did It - 3/5 (Another flipping jewel thievery episode! At least there's a mystery element to it this time, in that you initially don't know who the villain is. And when you do find out it's Spellbinder, there's the twist that he swaps his mind control targets from butlers to their employers. And it was really fun to see Alfred be the one to figure this out and escape the room he put himself in to save Batman's ass. I liked the bit where Batman hesitated to punch Alfred. And I think some of the hallucinations were fairly creative. That said, it was still a jewel thievery episode! Get some new plots, show.)
24. Grundy's Night - 4/5 (While I did have thoughts on this version of Grundy, those feel irrelevant when it turns out he was just Clayface in disguise anyway. That said, props for making a twist I could genuinely not predict. However, the reason I couldn't have predicted this is because after all that development of Bennett and his descent into Clayface, I wouldn't have expected his next appearance to just be him doing something generically villainous that Batman must put a stop to. It comes off as a bit awkward, because you'd think this would be more emotionally significant considering he was Bruce's best friend. But not only do we not even see his Bennett form in this episode, Batman doesn't even refer to him as such, just "Clayface". And then he goes home all cheery as if he stopped any ol' twerp. Huh?)
25. Strange Minds - 4/5 (While this episode falls into "Joker shenanigans" territory again, at least the focus here is less about just stopping him and instead delving into his mind. It leads to the zaniness being cranked up more, which is fun to see especially with how expressive Joker is in this show. Although I feel like they could have been a bit more creative with the visuals. I liked the flying fish, Joker as the moon, and the normal Joker managing the idea vault. But other than that it doesn't get more wacky then just a crowd of Jokers. But I liked the solution of how Batman made him disclose the information by making him think they had exited his mind. Cliché, but clever. It's a bit weird how Hugo Strange spots Batman in Joker's mind and immediately assumes it's the actual guy, though. For all he knows that could have been mentally conjured up by Joker. Batman would likely be on his mind a lot. Also, Harley Yin.)
26. Night and the City - 4/5 (Woah, TRIPLE villain teamup? Daring today, are we? I liked that Penguin didn't even know who Riddler was. And despite that, he's clearly stomping both Penguin and Joker in this contest. He came up with the idea to catch Batman in the first place, had the most elaborate bat-bait AND was the last guy standing in a fight against him. Joker and Penguin just followed Batman and quickly fumbled. I guess with Commissioner Gordon and the Bat-Signal being introduced in this episode that this marks the end of Batman being an enemy of the GCPD. Not that I mind, since while I liked the development of it, with Bennett gone and Yin already on his side, there wasn't a lot further you could push it. It's a shame this is Yin's last appearance, though. I don't really understand why, since while she's fired in this episode (for like what, a few hours?), she gets the job back and everything goes back to normal. Frankly it would have been more interesting if she WAS fired and then became a vigilante herself/sidekick to Batman as referenced in this very episode.)
Movie: The Batman vs. Dracula - 3/5 (Starting the story with Joker and Penguin? Yeah, this is a The Batman movie alright. They really can't help but spam these two villains. That said, decent movie, but I'm really scratching my head as to why they thought Dracula was the ultimate villain they could utilize for it. There is some thematic connection with him being able to transform into a bat, obviously... But that's as deep as it goes. And the few bits of Bruce recalling the death of his parents was like, come on, you really felt a need to rely on that as a plotpoint in a movie about Dracula?
The film, much like the show, is fairly barebones. Dracula rises and wants to take over Gotham, so Batman must stop him. The side story of Bruce having a romance with Vickly Vale feels very tacked on and pointless since not only was she not much of an interesting character, just a dime a dozen love interest, but she doesn't even appear in the series going forward. So, what? Also, did Bruce really need to hastily steal someone's lipstick and a platter to write "Alucard" and mirror it to figure out it spells Dracula backwards? Just rearrange the letters in your head.
The most interesting thing about the movie is it gets slightly more visually grim. Stuff Penguin bleeding in the beginning alone was a surprise, as tame as it was, because that's not something I would have thought the censors would allow. Of course I quickly realized it was plot relevant, but then they immediately go on to show Dracula "killing" a guy. Which, while I know having finished the movie that he was cured, the way the scene initially portrays it is obviously supposed to make you think that's what happened. There's also Joker practically bathing in blood and Dracula literally being burned alive in the end. Sheesh. So much for Batman's code. Vampire Joker is probably the best part of this movie. That blood bank scene is really cursed [good thing], and KMR's performance of Joker starving while Batman has him locked up was great. I mean Batman having to feed Joker his own blood just so he doesn't starve is a fairly unique plotpoint. Also his reaction to being un-vampire'd is pretty funny. "Where's Dracula?" "I'm looking at him".)

You already know I can kill you in one move, that's why I'm king and do it myself. Not that you gave me a choice to be king when you put me in a live audience. Not like the others that have to move around from where they start to get to you. Knonivore should have taught you that. I'll tell you the rest when I figure out why my horses are on Shogon.👻🦌♟️ Not that a stolen hand doesn't reveal the origins of my arsenal that lead to the Games appearance. My father says not to worry about in this lifetime, otherwise my would have been Johnathan🦊♟️ But my Mother says if that's the case, how did it cross over to our dimension? It's probably that stolen heart beat by from someone that crossed over from a stolen organ who intended on harming king and queen.☯️🔥 Not that Sherlock and Shazam don't share something similar, too bad it's the way my lower half investigates on BBC while I wait patiently on the grass in Brazil👽 Experiment 626 says you waste our time not producing the Fruit Aladdin promised, too bad the waters all dried up in Aladdins mind when the world forgets pray to Aladdin and not God. Not that Gos couldn't hear you with that knife in your back in that place you were getting paid for sex, it's just not cool when Moses loses his staff to Shazam. Not that the staff belonged to you anyway. That staff you see that man and the others carrying including that woman in Shazam's film along with Black Adam all belong to me. That's why false God's die Young as I promised you as it appearedin the Second Film, Shazam A god amoung us should reveal the footage now.. That's why I'm waiting this one out without as I said I would, in kings positions with John Snow, not that I'm done tech him how to take your measurements as well, along with those intent on collecting the bounty on him who continie to play him as if he could be Joker Enough to fight you naked🖕 Like the Wolf and I had to on Wall Street naked, hoping for an Eazy A and always ending up with a Leap Year. Not that I respect stone beneath my foot in American X or grass would be eternally mine, that's why you failed this city.👻☯️ I think I'll add the name Oliver to my collection, not that Stephen Amell ever got the full meaning of who I am when he showed up to stick it in my ass as a kid. Too bad Mothers don't forget when they show up dismembered on Jerry Springer while their heirs wait on submarines being forced to take water or give blood. Don't worry. I'm sure the missiles you send to hide the truth will work this time for sure, like they did in Colorado near my building. I'm sure that Red Neck Audience enjoyed laughing at my mother. Too bad I DEATH says he feels cheated that he couldn't get that drink with Shazam. Now he has to talk to a dragon about this Reborn program Alan keeps talking about alone. So long as it leads to more grass than stone, we're making it our objective in Africa now that the Pyramid wax has been updated. Not everyone can be Reborn Amazing. Otherwise, there'd be looking like the way we do on hulu, forced to take Dick when Robin and Batman make a deal with the Joker. Too bad if Elsa's hair gets cut then you all die cutted and wait it out as a corpse like I had to. That's price you pay when you fool God into a relationship with the government. Your compass divides you equally if you North and South a break from this Pole we're told to dance from in Russia. Not that you make it look easy to Spin the World when the Blood of Shazam in Bruce Almighty. Too bad it's temporary when where I'm standing. Once I figure out what medicine you're giving Aladdin it's over. See you at Worlds End 2030 fuckers. ☯️♟️ Those idiots you brought back in Avengers go back to Sand as they didn't want to be Reborn or feel Amazing I promised them. You fall fall the same to Lobo, Anubis, and Aladdin, because if their going down to Walt Disney, you are too. Shazam's Order as promised all the same to Magneto ♟️☯️ Too bad you rather die as sand than follow Shazam's Divine plan for your World Government, not that you can't deal with it but it look like you rather life in fear than to tell your bloodline the truth. That's the wolf and I deal with you on Gears of War, never Campaign only horde mode until we survive the last wave in pairs of 2, like we told all those creatures that went on ti Noah's Ark. 300 years to wait for someone isn't back when Alan cums quietly in the middle of the night to Pornhub to any Elf able to get blood from Aladdin as Santa requested. I learned not to sing, too many people die with a Dick down their thought when they think what Aladdin gives away fruit for free. Too bad Magic always comes with a price. That's what makes your magic weak. Too bad Person of interest only has one soul I'm interested in saving, the rest can wait this out while I take your measurements. Not that if ever required tape or a knife to get done so be careful when you end messing with God's only child and deal with both your tools shoved up your as like Will Smith had to learn in Hancock.🖕♟️🐺☯️🦌 Now I have to fight you the same way I did all these people, from bed wishing I lay naked. Too bad there's not much left of me to enjoy according to the people in Chelsea Philippines bloodline, in fact they say I'm all dried up like Aladdin's bloodline for thinking they could walk freely could giving us a taste of their taste Treat. Too bad my Mother knew better and told me to give Aladdin for the death of my Dragon you call Shendu and my Night Furry, not that she knows what it takes you make a God cry. That's what the Psychology office at Google is for, to make Aladdin's pain last for an Eternity for thinking we could deal with a Shapeshifter calling himself Anubis and not giving us his tastey treat despite how much pressure we out on Muslims on TV, but no he still won't tell us his fucking kids name, now we have to take who ever these Muslims are to Processing because whatever a hand held computer is meant more to Alan than his sibling. Too bad you all had to crack black and call it fake news. 🍣♟️ Not that your burger ever tasted good to me, apparently that's what Processing is, so be careful Aladdin♓ That's why all my heirs make their weapons from sand, so we can still get in touch with the dead, not that Hugh Jackman is making it far after our father trained us to play with paint.👻❄️🔥 I would bother ever going in front of a camera I didn't bless a photo with, too many Fringe level murders who those that don't learn English, that's why I had to learn Spanish too.☯️🖕 Too bad I don't trust the city as it doesn't stop breaking down Wood to make Real Steal to Walk Tall. Too bad the Chalk Board doesn't last when Anubis and Aladdij make a deal when they observe the people that pass though an Easy A while wearing Scrubs. You need hands to get things done, unfortunately you keep trying to give mine a job in Sex on the City. Too bad for you Catia Denny's Order was to leave you broke and penny less like the cast from the Big Bang Theory, not that we warned you that you wouldn't survive in Tangled. 🖕♟️☯️👻 So you shave your beard to say you die cut in half? And you shave your pussy to say your heir died? But if you shave your butthole that means someone pulled put your intestines? I knew poenhub had such a story.🦌 I much rather all learn to break bome than to let them touch your hair. Not that you'll appreciate why if you don't win. Not that Knonivore can afford you all to suffer and not be Reborn.☯️

Have you ever witnessed the first formation of life? I mean, I've seen my children, I was there for every step of the process if you know what I mean. Hah. But what I'm talking about is from beyond the beginning. The molten slag of a planet forming over millions or even billions of years into a habitable plane. Have you seen, from that very point, chemicals coalescing and reproducing? Amino acids and the forming proteins?
Well today, I found out, when you die in the crypts, you don't see a light in the end of a tunnel. You witness something truly beautiful and pointless.
I watched the birth of life from nothing. Short molecular protein chains. No cell walls, no encasing membranes. If DNA or genetic code of any kind was in their descendant's future, it wasn't present now. I watched it cling to the surface of rock, self-replication fueled by the warm free energy of a sun, millions of generations, hard work, decay, and new growth, only to be destroyed by a crashing wave. The weak hydrogen bonds were broken, as simple as that. The ancestor's hard work gone in a single blink-and-you-miss-it moment. Somehow I knew, wherever this was, that was all the life that planet would ever see until it was swallowed up by its star.
It was a quick fleeting spark. All the dramas and soap operas in the world could have taken place in a single raindrop. A unique potential, unlike any others, this planet's chosen ones, snuffed out before it could evolve to breathe its first breath. Rather grim isn't it? I don't know why I dreamt it, but there it was, a pointless creation followed by an equally pointless destruction. I guess it was a nice commercial break from the missing-arm-induced pain i was suffering. A wonderful hilucination, if a bit mocob.
Anyway, back to my unimaginable blood-curdling, mind-wrenching torture porn session. My eyes were closed a very long time, but when they did open, I was finally where I should be. Horizontal in a hospital bed, surrounded by trained surgeons. That said, it was on an alien world, and the surgeons were not trained in human biology. What's worse, they had no way to dull the pain.
Death would have been a blessing, unfortunately, the doctors were good, in spite of the unknown make, model, and engine size laying before them. 5 hours under an experimental knife, and I think an arc welder, is what it took to reattach my arm and fix my internal organ damage. 5 hours of poking and prodding and searing and stitching and pulling and zapping. All things considered, I am impressed it only took 5 hours. Ted's species was remarkable when it came to taking in new information and applying it in the real world. All their extra brains probably didn't hurt either.
If you remember, Ted's species came equipped with five extremity brains, and a central one. That's three for all three of his legs, two for both of his arms, and one in his central body. Ted would have had six individual minds within him before I found him dead in a ditch beside that interstellar sidewalk. By that point, only one, Ted, had survived.
After my, let's say, unique experience, I was left alone in a dark room to rest. Ted came by to visit. Oh yeah, he had a body now. He wore that "Tall, dark, and extraterrestrial" look well. He was easily 7 feet tall in his real body. Those Ted-fu moves should pack a real punch in a body like that.
"That reminds me. You wanted your fighting moves back, right?" My voice was terribly parched after my morning shouting sessions.
Shouting obscenities at medical proffesionals was about all I could do when Ted's doctors were busy inventing a new form of torture. Seriously, take notes. Good stuff in there.
"Keep them. That isn't going to be my concern here. It's hard to even walk now, let alone fight." He admitted. "I'm used to having secondary brains do all the work. I would only take over when the situation required. Now, I'm all I've got."
"Just another one of us handicap one-brainers," I taunted. "How does it feel to be on my level? Could you say you're just 'too single-minded?"
He laughed. I don't think I've ever heard Ted lower himself to laughing at one of my jokes. It wasn't even a good one. I know I could have come up with something better. Hold on. I- huh... well, I guess the moment has passed.
Instead, I teased him again. "so, you have a sense of humor after all."
"Always have. You just aren't funny." He shot back.
Then it was my turn to laugh at a bad joke.
"Bad idea!" I realized aloud. "Laughing hurts. Don't make me laugh."
There was an awkward silence before Ted finally spoke again. Our whole conversation was full of them.
"You're going back there aren't you?" He asked.
"I have to. I have a family somewhere, and I have to know if they're still alive. Something bad is happening on earth and I just want to be there to protect them."
"I don't think you ever will find out."
"Blunt and to the point today are ya?"
"Always have been. You just never listen. Im serious. I dont think you'll make it home."
There it was again, that quiet that kept creeping back up into our conversation.
"What if you run into Brad again?" He asked. "I won't be there to reboot your brain next time. You will either die or-"
"Don't tell me."
"Or you will suffer greatly, then die." He continued while checking his version of fingernails.
"I told you not to tell me. Now I can choose which option I like better."
"I'm being serious." He shot back at me. "You have no defenses against him."
"I know. I'm hoping he's dead. That's three shots from a Tedidian gun he has taken now."
Neither of us were convinced.
"Tedidian? That's the name you gave my species? I'm honored."
"I'm the first of my kind here, I get the naming privileges."
If our conversation took place over the radio, the host would be mortified. Not by the subject matter, no. The silence would be dubbed "dead air" and the host would desperately clamor for a new topic to keep the dialogue active and dynamic. We didn't have that luxury. I think Ted was sorry he couldn't have done more to help, but he would never admit it. I actually might miss him after all- Nah... Too stuck up his own butt to admit his shortcomings. I dont need a guy like that tagging along.
"Do you- mourn the loss of your secondary minds? Were they separate thinking entities?"
"I mourned their loss eons ago. I have moved on. Now I have to re-remember how to walk and talk and do math equations without them. I will be slower than my academic peers, but I have with me knowledge of the unknowable. That should make up for some of my deficiencies."
Eventually, Ted was ushered out. I needed the rest. The doctors here were good. They had managed to piece together this broken puzzle written with a completely different alphabet, and accelerated my healing a great deal. Not really a surprise, given they could build Ted a whole new body. I was back on my feet in a matter of 2 days, using my arm in 3, and back to 70% at 4. I dont think I'll ever make it back to 100%, but all things considered, this is pretty good.
It's hard to tell how long I have been away from earth, but given this trip was meant to last a very long time, I don't suspect I should miss my flight, so long as I find my portal. As long as I can find Eddy. So long as I can find all of them; Eddy, Rook, James, even Jyong and Me-Yan.
Ted's people had a similar arrangement to earth's at first. When Ted was an explorer, their portal was at the edge of the system, but they brought it down to their planet with rockets and parachutes after he and a few others never came back. The history was fascinating. They were a united planet, far and above the most advanced I have come across so far, but in spite of that, the portal slowly leeched off the planet, and spat out horrors beyond their imagination. What they once used as an interstellar fast travel, quickly turned into a speed bump, then a health hazard. There was a reason the builders set this portal so far away from the planet. It wasn't meant to be here, so Ted's people had to build a wall, with poor old lost Ted on the other side. They closely monitored the other side though, and were shocked to find the brain activity of a Tedidian coming from yours truly. That would be Ted's mind, shoulder to shoulder with mine, in my head if you weren't following along. Then they rescued me from Brad.
Speaking of, I asked around about Brad. Someone shot him, so that someone should know if he survived. I had to know if he would be waiting for me on the other side. Eventually, I asked the right person, who introduced me to my rescuer. He wore a white uniform and carried a big gun, even for Tedidian standards. I was kinda jealous. I like my pew pews, but these things were on another level.
He confidently told me that Brad was indeed "dead." I had Ted translate for me whenever I spoke to a native, but they were quickly learning on their own how to speak Sean-ese. That's the language I told them I speak. Might as well leave a lasting mark. That confidence, however, did not come from a place I liked.
"But did you actually see it dead?" I pressed.
"Nothing survives a plasma arc, even a graze, let alone two." He scoffed. Or I think he scoffed. There is no universal interplanetary sign that someone is scoffing at you. You just have to pick up on subtle undertones of pride, shock, or snood. Ted had lots of snood. Luckily, he broke the mold. The people here were as different as people are on earth. I just happened to get the most insufferable one imaginable. Just my luck.
"Then call this thing 'nobody,' because it survived one before." I suggested.
His eyes widened, glad to see that was an interplanetary sign of surprise. "Th-that isn't possible."
"Oh, but it is." Ted interjected
Oh good, that thing could be waiting for me for all I know. I never thought I'd be scared to be without a Ted in my head, but there I was, terrified. He was right. Without him, I had no defense.
We were walking back to Ted's place when I began replaying the past events in my head. My vision was something I couldn't shake. It was real. I felt like I was one of those chains of self-replicating chemicals. That's almost all they were, chemicals, but they had every marker required to classify life. They even responded to change in the environment. They were short-lived bonded protein chains that consumed, produced waste, even grew by self-replication and bonding.
"Hey Ted," I started. "I wanted to run something by you."
"I'm listening, but let's keep it under 280 characters. I'm not in the mood for a marathon today."
I rolled my eyes. "Glad to see you're back to your old self."
"My old self? I've been trying to get back to that, but every time I open my eyes, there you are."
"Look here Dane Cook, I saw something after the attack. It was on another planet. I think someone is trying to show me something."
"You were also close to Brad at the time, who we know can alter your perception."
"Maybe, but this felt different. The first time he affected my mind, he put me in a dreamlike state. Then he used something familiar to me to disguise himself. This was different. I wasn't me, I was this green amino-acid chain with no protective coating. All I could sense were chemicals, no light, no sound, but I knew what was happening too, like I was watching from the outside at the same time."
Ted learned how to roll his eyes just now from me, and mimicked the action to an exagerated end. "Don't think much about it. Many Tedidians see a light at the end of a tunnel when we are close to death. Perhaps this is just your version."
"Perhaps." One thing is certain, even if it scares me, I would be glad to be without Ted. I almost forgot how annoying he was after our little bonding session.
"But I have a question for you. Who is Dane Cook?"
"My planet's worst comedian. Thats not the point."
The day did come that I had to leave, and Ted, in his usual fashion, refused to say goodbye. Instead, all he would say is "I won't be far behind." Cryptic, right? Like, what is that supposed to mean?
At first, I thought "Great. And right after I thought I got rid of him." But then I thought about it. It would be an interesting cultural slang to say "we will meet again." Does Ted believe in an afterlife?does he think I'll wimp out and come back?
Pointless questions aside, there was some good news. He gave me a new gun. This one made an even bigger "kaboom!" It was really fun. Heh. Haha. Gimme-gimme.
I was happy to see Jim-Bob waiting for me at the portal. I hadn't seen him since I set off that sonic weapon. Their feet are so sensitive to vibrations and sound, that weapon really messed with them. The Tedidian doctors had their work cut out for them fixing 5 listening organs per Jim-Bobidian. Together, all 20 odd Jim-Bobs and I, stepped through the portal to the nightmare world.
Now that I was on this side of the portal, I could see that Brad was gone. Oh boy, what fun. You know what else? I held onto that old piece of alien tech that Ted had his brain shoved into. I thought it would make a neat souvenir. Wouldn't you believe it if as soon as the doors closed behind me, I heard that S.O.B's voice saying "So, where to next?"
Ted copied himself yet again into that stupid thing. Didn't take long to figure out what he meant by "I won't be far behind."
"What the hell, Ted?" I shouted.
"Surprised to hear my voice?" He asked?
"More pissed than surprised. I thought I finally got rid of you."
"Oh stop it, you are happy to see me, admit it."
"I thought you wanted to go home. What happened to me just being a pair of legs?"
"Ah yes, but there's a crucial difference between that Ted and this one. This one is artificial, and doesn't get lonely. I am merely a copy of a personality. That way, when you die, I won't get homesick."
"I smell bullshit," I said.
Surprisingly, he didn't make an astronauts and diapers joke. Instead, he said "Got me. I am an explorer, remember? Even if I was homesick, I still yearn for the other-worldly. My adventuring days are not yet over, and this way, I can never die, unlike someone I know."
"News flash, Ted, you did die, and give me that self-aggrandizing crap you pulled in the beginning, and I'm throwing your immortal ass down the throat of the next giant monster I find."
"My path will remain rectilinear, and true."
"Rectum what now? I thought you only knew words I used in front of you. I don't even know what you said."
"True, but now I have learned how your language works, thus am able to intuit new words. You cannot convince me that was not a word. Go- 'look it up' or whatever when you get back to Earth. It means 'I'll stay on the straight and narrow.'"
"Then why didn't you just say so? You're already teetering on the edge of being too annoying to keep around, buddy." I threatened, but I had to admit, a translator would be nice.
I have to say, the next leg of the journey went on without a hitch. The Jim-Bobs, Ted, and I were making good time. Find a monster, kill it, find a planet, explore it, find another monster, kill it too. I found so many new planets, although most were dead or never had life to begin with. The odd part was, Ted was sure he had visited some before, and interacted with the residents, but there was nothing but rock where I stood.

Have you ever witnessed the first formation of life? I mean, I've seen my children, I was there for every step of the process if you know what I mean. Hah. But what I'm talking about is from beyond the beginning. The molten slag of a planet forming over millions or even billions of years into a habitable plane. Have you seen, from that very point, chemicals coalescing and reproducing? Amino acids and the forming proteins?
Well today, I found out, when you die in the crypts, you don't see a light in the end of a tunnel. You witness something truly beautiful and pointless.
I watched the birth of life from nothing. Short molecular protein chains. No cell walls, no encasing membranes. If DNA or genetic code of any kind was in their descendant's future, it wasn't present now. I watched it cling to the surface of rock, self-replication fueled by the warm free energy of a sun, millions of generations, hard work, decay, and new growth, only to be destroyed by a crashing wave. The weak hydrogen bonds were broken, as simple as that. The ancestor's hard work gone in a single blink-and-you-miss-it moment. Somehow I knew, wherever this was, that was all the life that planet would ever see until it was swallowed up by its star.
It was a quick fleeting spark. All the dramas and soap operas in the world could have taken place in a single raindrop. A unique potential, unlike any others, this planet's chosen ones, snuffed out before it could evolve to breathe its first breath. Rather grim isn't it? I don't know why I dreamt it, but there it was, a pointless creation followed by an equally pointless destruction. I guess it was a nice commercial break from the missing-arm-induced pain i was suffering. A wonderful hilucination, if a bit mocob.
Anyway, back to my unimaginable blood-curdling, mind-wrenching torture porn session. My eyes were closed a very long time, but when they did open, I was finally where I should be. Horizontal in a hospital bed, surrounded by trained surgeons. That said, it was on an alien world, and the surgeons were not trained in human biology. What's worse, they had no way to dull the pain.
Death would have been a blessing, unfortunately, the doctors were good, in spite of the unknown make, model, and engine size laying before them. 5 hours under an experimental knife, and I think an arc welder, is what it took to reattach my arm and fix my internal organ damage. 5 hours of poking and prodding and searing and stitching and pulling and zapping. All things considered, I am impressed it only took 5 hours. Ted's species was remarkable when it came to taking in new information and applying it in the real world. All their extra brains probably didn't hurt either.
If you remember, Ted's species came equipped with five extremity brains, and a central one. That's three for all three of his legs, two for both of his arms, and one in his central body. Ted would have had six individual minds within him before I found him dead in a ditch beside that interstellar sidewalk. By that point, only one, Ted, had survived.
After my, let's say, unique experience, I was left alone in a dark room to rest. Ted came by to visit. Oh yeah, he had a body now. He wore that "Tall, dark, and extraterrestrial" look well. He was easily 7 feet tall in his real body. Those Ted-fu moves should pack a real punch in a body like that.
"That reminds me. You wanted your fighting moves back, right?" My voice was terribly parched after my morning shouting sessions.
Shouting obscenities at medical proffesionals was about all I could do when Ted's doctors were busy inventing a new form of torture. Seriously, take notes. Good stuff in there.
"Keep them. That isn't going to be my concern here. It's hard to even walk now, let alone fight." He admitted. "I'm used to having secondary brains do all the work. I would only take over when the situation required. Now, I'm all I've got."
"Just another one of us handicap one-brainers," I taunted. "How does it feel to be on my level? Could you say you're just 'too single-minded?"
He laughed. I don't think I've ever heard Ted lower himself to laughing at one of my jokes. It wasn't even a good one. I know I could have come up with something better. Hold on. I- huh... well, I guess the moment has passed.
Instead, I teased him again. "so, you have a sense of humor after all."
"Always have. You just aren't funny." He shot back.
Then it was my turn to laugh at a bad joke.
"Bad idea!" I realized aloud. "Laughing hurts. Don't make me laugh."
There was an awkward silence before Ted finally spoke again. Our whole conversation was full of them.
"You're going back there aren't you?" He asked.
"I have to. I have a family somewhere, and I have to know if they're still alive. Something bad is happening on earth and I just want to be there to protect them."
"I don't think you ever will find out."
"Blunt and to the point today are ya?"
"Always have been. You just never listen. Im serious. I dont think you'll make it home."
There it was again, that quiet that kept creeping back up into our conversation.
"What if you run into Brad again?" He asked. "I won't be there to reboot your brain next time. You will either die or-"
"Don't tell me."
"Or you will suffer greatly, then die." He continued while checking his version of fingernails.
"I told you not to tell me. Now I can choose which option I like better."
"I'm being serious." He shot back at me. "You have no defenses against him."
"I know. I'm hoping he's dead. That's three shots from a Tedidian gun he has taken now."
Neither of us were convinced.
"Tedidian? That's the name you gave my species? I'm honored."
"I'm the first of my kind here, I get the naming privileges."
If our conversation took place over the radio, the host would be mortified. Not by the subject matter, no. The silence would be dubbed "dead air" and the host would desperately clamor for a new topic to keep the dialogue active and dynamic. We didn't have that luxury. I think Ted was sorry he couldn't have done more to help, but he would never admit it. I actually might miss him after all- Nah... Too stuck up his own butt to admit his shortcomings. I dont need a guy like that tagging along.
"Do you- mourn the loss of your secondary minds? Were they separate thinking entities?"
"I mourned their loss eons ago. I have moved on. Now I have to re-remember how to walk and talk and do math equations without them. I will be slower than my academic peers, but I have with me knowledge of the unknowable. That should make up for some of my deficiencies."
Eventually, Ted was ushered out. I needed the rest. The doctors here were good. They had managed to piece together this broken puzzle written with a completely different alphabet, and accelerated my healing a great deal. Not really a surprise, given they could build Ted a whole new body. I was back on my feet in a matter of 2 days, using my arm in 3, and back to 70% at 4. I dont think I'll ever make it back to 100%, but all things considered, this is pretty good.
It's hard to tell how long I have been away from earth, but given this trip was meant to last a very long time, I don't suspect I should miss my flight, so long as I find my portal. As long as I can find Eddy. So long as I can find all of them; Eddy, Rook, James, even Jyong and Me-Yan.
Ted's people had a similar arrangement to earth's at first. When Ted was an explorer, their portal was at the edge of the system, but they brought it down to their planet with rockets and parachutes after he and a few others never came back. The history was fascinating. They were a united planet, far and above the most advanced I have come across so far, but in spite of that, the portal slowly leeched off the planet, and spat out horrors beyond their imagination. What they once used as an interstellar fast travel, quickly turned into a speed bump, then a health hazard. There was a reason the builders set this portal so far away from the planet. It wasn't meant to be here, so Ted's people had to build a wall, with poor old lost Ted on the other side. They closely monitored the other side though, and were shocked to find the brain activity of a Tedidian coming from yours truly. That would be Ted's mind, shoulder to shoulder with mine, in my head if you weren't following along. Then they rescued me from Brad.
Speaking of, I asked around about Brad. Someone shot him, so that someone should know if he survived. I had to know if he would be waiting for me on the other side. Eventually, I asked the right person, who introduced me to my rescuer. He wore a white uniform and carried a big gun, even for Tedidian standards. I was kinda jealous. I like my pew pews, but these things were on another level.
He confidently told me that Brad was indeed "dead." I had Ted translate for me whenever I spoke to a native, but they were quickly learning on their own how to speak Sean-ese. That's the language I told them I speak. Might as well leave a lasting mark. That confidence, however, did not come from a place I liked.
"But did you actually see it dead?" I pressed.
"Nothing survives a plasma arc, even a graze, let alone two." He scoffed. Or I think he scoffed. There is no universal interplanetary sign that someone is scoffing at you. You just have to pick up on subtle undertones of pride, shock, or snood. Ted had lots of snood. Luckily, he broke the mold. The people here were as different as people are on earth. I just happened to get the most insufferable one imaginable. Just my luck.
"Then call this thing 'nobody,' because it survived one before." I suggested.
His eyes widened, glad to see that was an interplanetary sign of surprise. "Th-that isn't possible."
"Oh, but it is." Ted interjected
Oh good, that thing could be waiting for me for all I know. I never thought I'd be scared to be without a Ted in my head, but there I was, terrified. He was right. Without him, I had no defense.
We were walking back to Ted's place when I began replaying the past events in my head. My vision was something I couldn't shake. It was real. I felt like I was one of those chains of self-replicating chemicals. That's almost all they were, chemicals, but they had every marker required to classify life. They even responded to change in the environment. They were short-lived bonded protein chains that consumed, produced waste, even grew by self-replication and bonding.
"Hey Ted," I started. "I wanted to run something by you."
"I'm listening, but let's keep it under 280 characters. I'm not in the mood for a marathon today."
I rolled my eyes. "Glad to see you're back to your old self."
"My old self? I've been trying to get back to that, but every time I open my eyes, there you are."
"Look here Dane Cook, I saw something after the attack. It was on another planet. I think someone is trying to show me something."
"You were also close to Brad at the time, who we know can alter your perception."
"Maybe, but this felt different. The first time he affected my mind, he put me in a dreamlike state. Then he used something familiar to me to disguise himself. This was different. I wasn't me, I was this green amino-acid chain with no protective coating. All I could sense were chemicals, no light, no sound, but I knew what was happening too, like I was watching from the outside at the same time."
Ted learned how to roll his eyes just now from me, and mimicked the action to an exagerated end. "Don't think much about it. Many Tedidians see a light at the end of a tunnel when we are close to death. Perhaps this is just your version."
"Perhaps." One thing is certain, even if it scares me, I would be glad to be without Ted. I almost forgot how annoying he was after our little bonding session.
"But I have a question for you. Who is Dane Cook?"
"My planet's worst comedian. Thats not the point."
The day did come that I had to leave, and Ted, in his usual fashion, refused to say goodbye. Instead, all he would say is "I won't be far behind." Cryptic, right? Like, what is that supposed to mean?
At first, I thought "Great. And right after I thought I got rid of him." But then I thought about it. It would be an interesting cultural slang to say "we will meet again." Does Ted believe in an afterlife?does he think I'll wimp out and come back?
Pointless questions aside, there was some good news. He gave me a new gun. This one made an even bigger "kaboom!" It was really fun. Heh. Haha. Gimme-gimme.
I was happy to see Jim-Bob waiting for me at the portal. I hadn't seen him since I set off that sonic weapon. Their feet are so sensitive to vibrations and sound, that weapon really messed with them. The Tedidian doctors had their work cut out for them fixing 5 listening organs per Jim-Bobidian. Together, all 20 odd Jim-Bobs and I, stepped through the portal to the nightmare world.
Now that I was on this side of the portal, I could see that Brad was gone. Oh boy, what fun. You know what else? I held onto that old piece of alien tech that Ted had his brain shoved into. I thought it would make a neat souvenir. Wouldn't you believe it if as soon as the doors closed behind me, I heard that S.O.B's voice saying "So, where to next?"
Ted copied himself yet again into that stupid thing. Didn't take long to figure out what he meant by "I won't be far behind."
"What the hell, Ted?" I shouted.
"Surprised to hear my voice?" He asked?
"More pissed than surprised. I thought I finally got rid of you."
"Oh stop it, you are happy to see me, admit it."
"I thought you wanted to go home. What happened to me just being a pair of legs?"
"Ah yes, but there's a crucial difference between that Ted and this one. This one is artificial, and doesn't get lonely. I am merely a copy of a personality. That way, when you die, I won't get homesick."
"I smell bullshit," I said.
Surprisingly, he didn't make an astronauts and diapers joke. Instead, he said "Got me. I am an explorer, remember? Even if I was homesick, I still yearn for the other-worldly. My adventuring days are not yet over, and this way, I can never die, unlike someone I know."
"News flash, Ted, you did die, and give me that self-aggrandizing crap you pulled in the beginning, and I'm throwing your immortal ass down the throat of the next giant monster I find."
"My path will remain rectilinear, and true."
"Rectum what now? I thought you only knew words I used in front of you. I don't even know what you said."
"True, but now I have learned how your language works, thus am able to intuit new words. You cannot convince me that was not a word. Go- 'look it up' or whatever when you get back to Earth. It means 'I'll stay on the straight and narrow.'"
"Then why didn't you just say so? You're already teetering on the edge of being too annoying to keep around, buddy." I threatened, but I had to admit, a translator would be nice.
I have to say, the next leg of the journey went on without a hitch. The Jim-Bobs, Ted, and I were making good time. Find a monster, kill it, find a planet, explore it, find another monster, kill it too. I found so many new planets, although most were dead or never had life to begin with. The odd part was, Ted was sure he had visited some before, and interacted with the residents, but there was nothing but rock where I stood.

Have you ever experienced something that shook you to your very core? Something that makes you remember every single little detail of your surroundings from that moment in time? Even years after? I can remember so vividly the moment I realized something was wrong with me. I was in my junior year of high school sitting in class, just like any other day. I remember the smell of erasers and cheap cologne that permeated off my classmate who sat next to me. I remember the scratchy tag on my t-shirt and how I was resisting taking it off in the middle of class just to cut it off. I remember what my teacher, Mrs. Brown, was talking about; 'the fall of Constantinople'. My mouth felt dry and I kept looking at the clock, counting down the minutes until I had lunch so I could get a soda. The sound of a pen clicking behind me was synchronized with the song that was stuck in my head.
All those things were going through my brain at once. My ADHD mind went a million miles per minute when it all came down to a cashing holt when I felt it at 11:23
I felt what I can only describe as a hand grabbing at the inner lining of my stomach. It didn't necessarily hurt, not at this point. That's not why I got so scared. You see, not only do I have ADHD. I also have OCD that manifests itself in the fear of anything growing or moving inside me. Even if I think about the concept of blood moving in my body or a heart that is beating in my chest, I have to think of something else. I've had full-blown panic attacks because of it. The closest term for this is 'Tokophobia'. That's technically the fear of pregnancy. I'm a guy, so it's not completely accurate but it's really the closest term. I mean, I also do have a huge fear of pregnancy. Not necessarily of me being pregnant, but even though I knew I could never get pregnant, the thought of it still made me feel sick
I bet you can imagine the terror that overcame me as I felt something moving in me. I made an audible groan and grabbed my stomach. My whole class turned to look at me. even my teacher stopped talking to ask if I was okay. I stood up and started to run to the nurses' office without even acknowledging my teacher. My first thought wasn't thinking that something was actually in my body. Even stomach aches and the feeling of gurgling in my stomach made me feel this way before. I didn't have anything on hand to help with a stomach ache, unfortunately. However, the nurse always did.
I sprinted across the school hoping and praying that my stomach wouldn't make that awful feeling again before I got there.
I turned the corner into the nurses' office with my tennis shoes squeaking in the process. I saw the school nurse, Mrs. Kennedy sitting on the couch in her office reading a magazine. She looked up at me with a sweet smile that quickly turned into worry.
"Sam, what is it? How can I help?" She said as she stood up and hurried over to me. Putting her hand over mine which was grabbing my stomach tightly.
"It's…It's my stomach. Something is wrong with it." I mumbled with a red face.
She shuffled her way over to her large medicine cabinet and she motioned for me to sit down.
She asked me questions about my stomach. Asking if it was pain, grumbling, cramps, nausea, etc. As she was asking me what my symptoms were and digging through bottles, The feeling happened again. However, this time was different. It felt like fingers grassing against the inside of my body. I screamed and wrapped my arms around my torso. Mrs. Kenneddy ran over to me to comfort me.
"This seems a lot worse than normal, maybe we should call your parents." She said as she put her hand on my back.
It felt like some days I saw Mrs. Kennedy more than my teachers. Any small ailment would distract me so badly from class that I had to go see her. Sometimes multiple times a day. She knew at this point when something was really wrong.
Within about 30 minutes both my parents were there with us. That may seem fast, but I'm an only child and my parents are very aware of my tendencies. They know I can spiral and like to be around if it happens.
They kept asking me where the pain was. I think they assumed by the way I wasn't responding to their questions the pain must've been really bad. The reality was that I just didn't know how to tell them what was going on.
I got so frustrated after they asked me over and over again that I just yelled at them.
"Something is inside me! Get it out, get it out, get it out!" I lifted my shirt and was ripping at my stomach. Leaving red nail scratches and cuts. My mom and dad ran to either side of me to grab my arms. Mrs. Kennedy had seen me go pretty crazy, but this was the worst I've ever gotten in front of her. My parents however had seen a similar situation before. Not exactly like this, but they didn't skip a beat on trying to help me.
"Sam. Breath, sweety. Just remember everything is in you for a reason. It's keeping you alive. Nothing is going to hurt you." My mom said softly to me. Trying to calm me down with the words my therapist gave her. "Ice cubes, get him ice cubes!" She said to Mrs. Kennedy as I started to hyperventilate.
Mrs. Kennedy grabbed a ziplock bag and started to fill it with ice cubes. My mom went over to her and grabbed an ice cube right out of the bag, opened up my hand, and put the ice cube in it. This worked in the past to distract me, I knew that's what she was doing, and trust me. I wanted it to work too, but this was different. I kept trying to tell myself that it was just a different feeling I hadn't felt before. That it wasn't possible something was physically inside my body. But I couldn't help it.
Everyone in the room could see that this was getting intense. I think they assumed it was just a mental breakdown and that nothing was physically wrong with my body but I didn't care. I just wanted help.
My parents got me into the car with my mom even sitting in the backseat with me. She kept trying to distract me with conversation but my mind was only on that awful feeling in my stomach.
We pulled up to the ER and my mom guided me in while holding both my wrists. It felt like she was walking me on a leash but I didn't fight it. I knew she was just trying to stop me from scratching my stomach.
We walked in and I spoke to the receptionist. All I said was that I had terrible pain in my stomach. I didn't want to sound too crazy. I just needed a doctor to look at whatever was going on.
After giving the receptionist my name and insurance information we went to sit down. I was sitting in between my parents and I could see my mom lean back to try and mouth something to my dad without me seeing. I didn't think much of it. I was way more worried about other things.
My dad then went up to the receptionist. He pointed over to me and she looked a little concerned. I saw her pick up the clipboard that had my information on it and she started writing something else on it. I asked my dad what he did and he just said to not worry and that he wanted to let her know it was urgent.
No more than 10 minutes went by and I felt a terrible moving sensation. I cringed and grabbed my stomach. Immediately followed by not just the feeling of a hand grabbing my insides but also scratching and pinching. I yelled out in pain as the other people in the waiting room looked at me mortified.
A doctor and a couple of nurses came running over to me and helped me up. But I couldn't stand up. I was in too much pain. They put me in a wheelchair and started to head for a room. However, they didn't take me through the normal big ER doors that went to the standard examination rooms, they took me and my parents through a smaller door to the side that had a padlock on it.
We walked through a white hallway that was very quiet. The doctor and nurses showed us to my room and helped me into my bed as I was wiggling and wincing. I had one parent on either side of me. Patiently waited to stop my arms from scratching.
The doctor was trying to ask further questions but he could tell it wasn't going anywhere. I knew that my dad probably told that receptionist about my OCD tendencies and that I needed to go to the psych ward. Not just to the stranded side of the ER.
I couldn't take it anymore and blurted out that something was inside my stomach and it was trying to get out.
The doctor just looked at my parents for a reaction and they gave him a sad nod. It was like they warned him that this could happen. The doctor didn't just think I was crazy, my parents did too. The doctor took a deep breath and came up to me. I knew I was about to hear some kind of dumb speech about how this was just my OCD and everything was going to be okay.
As he came closer to me, I pulled up my shirt and he gasped. Not only was my stomach scratched up like crazy, but we saw movement. It looked like when a pregnant woman can see her baby kicking. But this was so much stronger. It was stretching my skin.
My parents stood up and gasped while the doctor looked frantic and unprepared.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" The doctor said as he backed out of the room. "Hang on! We are getting this taken care of, just hang tight."
Just seconds later a nurse came in to give me some painkillers. I started to feel the pain slip away, but something so much worse started to creep in. I heard a voice. Not my own. Not some creepy-sounding creature, but the voice of a normal-sounding man that I'd never heard before. But that wasn't the scary part. The scary part was what he was saying to me.
"Get me out. Get me out. Get me out!"
It started in a normal tone, but slowly became more urgent and rushed. Then demanding.
The voice would coincide with the moment inside me.
It was getting so loud that I was having a hard time hearing the people around me. The doctor came in just a few minutes after I last saw him. He was red and sweaty. Like he'd just run a marathon. He told me they needed to do just a few tests on what was inside me before taking action.
I was trying so hard to pay attention to the words coming out of his mouth but all I could hear was the voice. The voice stopped for just a second and changed what he was saying. Now he started repeating,
"Cut me out, cut me out, cut me out, now!" I now knew this thing didn't just want out but it wanted out now. I begged the doctor to just get it out now but he wouldn't listen. The voice spoke up again.
"This is taking too long. Don't be afraid. Get me out yourself."
I think it could feel me resisting. Without realizing it, I was looking around the room for something. It was like I didn't even have control over my head or eyes anymore. I knew the voice was looking for a knife but I was trying to ignore the feeling. I knew there weren't any knives around. I was in a very safe place.
Just as I had the feeling I was safe, it was immediately taken away. The thought passed through my head that my dad probably had a pocket knife on him. My heart sank. I knew this thing could hear my thoughts. I knew what it would try to do.
The next thing I knew, I was on my feet, leaping for my dad. My body hit his. luckily, he's in pretty good shape for his age and had no problems putting me in my place.
He got on top of me and pinned me to the ground. All while I could barely hear my mom in the background. Yelling at my dad to be careful. My dad knew something was going on and that I just needed to be on the ground until I calmed down.
My body tried to flail but it wasn't successful. The whole time the voice in my head, now yelling and screaming. Not saying any distinguishable words, but just having what felt like a tantrum. What made my dad the most uncomfortable was the kicking feeling coming from my stomach.
After a couple of minutes, the voice calmed down and I felt in charge of my body again. My dad slowly got up and attempted to help me up. At this point with an audience of hospital staff that looked like they were getting ready to take me somewhere for more tests.
Just as I stood up straight, I felt the voice take over and I lost all sense of my own body. I felt like a shell of myself. My dad gave me a soft yet worried smile, and in that instance, I grabbed him and reached into his pocket. My heart sank as I felt his pocket knife. The room started to panic and about 5 people tried to grab it from me. The last thing I remember is plunging the knife into my stomach. I felt a blinding pain and everything went black.
Several hours later I started to wake up. Everything was extremely blurry and fuzzy. I could hear a very faint voice telling me to relax. As the minutes passed by, things started to become a little bit clearer. I looked around and saw I was in a large room with a few other patients. A nurse was going up to all the beds and checking in on them. I tried to sit up a bit to get more comfortable and noticed an incredible sourness in my stomach. I moved my hospital gown out of the way and saw a huge scare. About 6" across. Most of the scare looked very surgical. Like what I'd imagine a c-section surgery would look like. Except where I remembered the knife going in. It looked like a bunch of extra stitches had to be added where it went in. It also looked pretty bruised. I can imagine that a dull 10-year-old knife that was harshly shoved into a body really wouldn't cleanly cut through and leave some damage.
The feeling of shock from looking at my stomach was quickly gone when I realized that meant whatever was in me was now gone. I didn't hear the voice, I didn't feel a hand in my gut anymore, I didn't see that vile kicking anymore. I felt like I could breathe.
I asked the nurse what they found and she looked flush.
"Uh, that's something that you, uh. Your doctor will talk with you once you eat something and can speak clearly." She said as she scurried off looking upset.
Shortly after that, I was wheeled into a recovery room and my parents came to see me.
As they walked in they had a very similar look on their faces as the nurse did. They looked pale and didn't want to look me in the eye. I kept asking them questions about what was going on but they said the doctor needed to discuss it with me and he wanted to make sure I wasn't feeling high from the anesthesia while we had a conversation.
The doctor didn't come and see me for another 10 hours. Which felt strange. And to add to the strangeness, my parents were taking shifts hanging out with me. There was only overlap when they switched and the other parent took over while the other one left the room. I would understand if they weren't both with me for the whole time. I'm not that needy, but they were only both in my room together for about an hour. That was the hour before the doctor came to my room.
Finally, the doctor came in to talk to me. When he walked in, the room was cold and quiet. It was evident he didn't feel the same relief I was feeling.
He seemed awkward. Like he was talking way too long to get over to me. He grabbed a chair and scooted it close to me.
"Listen Sam. I know this last 24 hours has been very challenging. I apologize for not explaining what happened during your surgery sooner, but we all needed time to figure it out, and quite frankly, process what happened. We feel we have enough information to let you in on what is going on." A silence filled the room. It felt like no one was brave enough to break it.
"And?" I said with confusion.
"I think it'll be easier if we just show you."
The doctor along with my parents helped me into a wheelchair and we started to make our way across the hospital to an entirely different section. I couldn't believe all the things running through my head at what we were about to see. It felt like cruel and unusual punishment to leave me in anticipation and not just tell me what I was about to see.
When I went around the corner I couldn't process what I was looking at. I thought they were showing me a large tumor or growth of some kind, but why would a tumor be in a big incubation chamber with tubes connected to IVs and machines coming out of it?
As I got closer, I started to see human fetchers on it. It was mostly just a 6-pound lump of flesh, but I could see a hand sticking out of it. It was small, but what made it creepy was it looked like a fully developed man's hand. Just small. I could see a patch of hair coming out of what I assumed was its head. It had no discernible facial features. Just a few teeth scattered in one section.
As I looked at it with disgust, coming to terms with this thing that was just in my body, I had a realization. I wasn't feeling sick at the thought of something being in my body. Sure, I was grossed out that this particular thing was just in me, but the thought of the bacteria in my body didn't make me want to throw up. I thought about all the blood pumping through my veins and I felt… normal. Not only was the voice and kicking gone. But my OCD was gone too. I didn't have a mental illness. It was just this thing. Trying to find its way out for years.
As I was staring at the creature, the doctor came and put his hand on my shoulder.
"We believe this is your twin brother." I immediately looked up at my parents who looked very disturbed and upset. I let the doctor finish talking. "We believe that you absorbed him in the womb and that he has been living inside you your whole life. This is an extremely rare condition called fetus-in-fetu. It seems he didn't quite have the best opportunity to develop normally. That's why he looks the way he does. Despite his appearance, he has all the organs he needs to survive. Looks like he's missing a lung and his gallbladder. Also a piece of his liver but other than that, it looks like he will live for at least a few years. He won't be able to leave this room due to him needing a feeding tube and a few other things that his body can not do on its own. He needs lots of support just to live. What makes this situation extremely unique is that your twin is still alive despite your body not sustaining him anymore. Even though we have him hooked up to a few IVs and machines, It is unexplainable how he is living while outside of your body."
I was in complete shock. I didn't want to believe it. I asked my mom why she never told me I absorbed my twin in the womb, she said she had no clue. There was never a sign when she was pregnant with me.
He also mentioned that sometimes even in pregnancies women will go their whole pregnancy without even getting a belly. It's called a 'Cryptic pregnancy'. I've always had a bit of a gut but never anything big enough to cause suspicion. I guess in my case I had a fetus-fetu and an experience similar to a cryptic pregnancy. Even though it was in my stomach. At least that was the doctor's best guess. Although, it all sounded like BS to me.
The doctor and my parents kept trying to explain more and more details to me. I don't know why they didn't slow down a little bit for my sake. How could they not tell I wasn't processing any of this?
I noticed something while they were trying to explain things to me. They kept calling it a 'He'.
Now listen. I'm not some kind of asshole that won't respect someone who wants to be called a specific pronoun. I've never been that kind of person. But this is where I draw the line.
Not just that. But this thing had a name. My parents named it and said today was its birthday. While they told me all this information, they didn't look happy about it. It seemed like they were forced to do all this nonsense. And now it was my turn to be convinced. I could tell they were trying to force it.
The doctor told me despite it not having a high probability for a long life that we should still try and give it the love it deserves. Of course, the doctor referred to it as a 'He' but I refused to.
This disgusted me. This thing tried to kill me and ruined my quality of life for so long, and now we are going to treat it like it's some kind of prince? No, absolutely not.
Luckily, it seemed like it would never leave the hospital, but my parents planned on going to visit it daily. Visiting it? Are you kidding me? it has no eyes, no ears, it's probably miserable and has no concept of people even being around it.
I'm refusing to ever see this thing again or acknowledge its existence again.
I could get in trouble for even talking about this. The hospital or anyone involved has signed NDAs to not share any information about this until it officially dies. This is because it's a medical anomaly and the first of its kind. They want to do the proper research on how this all occurred before coming out with a statement. I just have to get this all off my chest. I feel like I'm the crazy one here when I know I'm not. I don't care if I get in trouble.
I am scared that the doctors are trying to force my parents into giving this thing a proper life. I think that's why it took them so long to tell me. I think they scared my parents into keeping it alive and guilting them or even forcing them into being its parent.
I'm all for every life being important and all that stuff, but I have a feeling my parents are terrified of this thing just like I am.
I am convinced they gaslit my parents into believing this thing is my brother. If there wasn't any sign of him while my mom was pregnant with me, could this thing be something else?
This all happened about two years ago. It's still alive and they are still researching it. My parents continue to visit it despite everything. My therapist told me that I'm probably just struggling with jealousy now that I'm not an only child anymore and so much of my parents' attention is on him now, but it's so much bigger than just jealousy.
Since this thing showed up and my OCD is pretty much gone, I've hardly seen my parents. I know I'm not just jealous. There is something more to this. I know it.
Something just feels so off about this whole thing. What is this thing? Where did it come from? And what does it want?

Well, I'll give a little insight into my journey. My brother has been diagnosed with Meniere's but i haven't yet. I have an appointment scheduled with ENT in July, pretty certain I have it though. I have constant tinnitus and a almost constant weighted feeling that starts from my right eye which feels like it has been punched and this feeling connects to the full feeling of my inner right ear, also i get vertigo after tilting my head or making a sudden or jarring movement. I'm almost 47 and I just started experiencing these symptoms, which sounds almost common with the disease but I've also happened to be pretty sedated and anxious for the last 20 years. I was honorably discharged from the army and diagnosed with ptsd and general anxiety disorder and right away fed benzos and i anxiety can mask dizziness but i think benzos can also turn off transmitters in your brain or sedate them at least. Anyways, i quit Clonazepam about two years ago now and seems that the neurotransmitters have fired back up a bit and i feel these sensations just fine now. I also see that my underlying condition of anxiety is very much still there.
So to begin this new chapter in my battle with anxiety i went to see my mental health doctor who prescribed me Buspar for it and has subsided it somewhat again but not sedated me so much that i can still feel my arthritis, which has helped me discover psoriasis and good old restless leg syndrome. I have appointments scheduled with rheumatology and neurology. I was diagnosed with the psoriasis from dermatology but was told it wasn't severe enough to put my body in fight or flight mode. I'm not sure how they can tell that by just looking at the skin though. I have had lab work done which said i have inflammation and all my life I've had abnormally high white blood cell count. I know that psoriasis alone is a autoimmune disease and thought it could be the cause of my anxiety but i guess my whole purpose of this rant is to see if anyone else has had this experience and if maybe by luck they got a clue to look at it a way i haven't yet. I've been called a hypochondriac and I've gotten my blood pressure super high from researching this but i feel it's up to me, my doctors are too busy.. they just want to put me back on klonopin. So yeah if you have any guidance for general anxiety disorder with Meniere's and how to help it.. i'd greatly appreciate it. Thanks in advance!

DAY: MAY 15, 2024

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(continuation of part 3)
Since Fatal Calling is all about Cloud facing his past and his origins, Tifa’s musical theme is most appropriate for the ending cutscene. For all of these reasons, Tifa’s theme is absolutely appropriate for the conclusion of Fatal Calling. It makes a lot of sense then that once Cloud has finished revisiting the past and vanishes with the crystal to find his Promised Land, Tifa’s theme stops and Aerith’s theme begins.
There’s a lot to be said about Sephiroth in Fatal Calling. Sephiroth feeds off of despair, and deems Palamecia’s suffering inadequate: he seeks a much greater source of power than this realm. He states that Palamecia isn’t “the world that was promised to [him]”, referencing his desire to become the god of his core world of FFVII:

“Sephiroth: Melding with the planet, I will cease to exist as I am now only to be reborn as a ‘god’ to rule over every soul” (FFVII OG, disk 1, chapter 25).

Sephiroth’s line “Now, let us return [Cloud]. Back to the Promised Land” reveals he wants to return to their shared core world of FFVII, like we established in our review of the Remake timelines theory (see section “I. a) vii.”). Sephiroth wants to go back to FFVII and modify the OG timeline to achieve his evil goals. This is his ideal scenario, his place of complete happiness: his desired Promised Land. Fatal Calling is setting up Sephiroth’s plans for Remake. In fact, the after-credits scene wherein Sephiroth stands in Nibelheim as it burns confirms his return to the FFVII OG timeline.
However, he isn’t the only one returning. Now that Cloud has revisited his past in Fatal Calling, he’s ready to reach his Promised Land. After Sephiroth’s after-credits scene, the OG FFVII title and logo turn into the FFVII Remake title and logo, indicating a shift: we are now officially in the Remakeera or world. Cloud and Sephiroth disappeared at the end of Fatal Calling, and now the game is telling us where they’ve gone. Combined with Hamaguchi’s recommendation that players complete the collaboration event before playing Remake, I think this is a solid indication that the Cloud and Sephiroth we see in this collaboration event are those we encounter in the Remake world. Once the switch to Remake occurs, Aerith’s theme returns. This communicates that she is indeed —as we’ve proven countless times already— Cloud’s Promised Land. But it also conveys her importance to the story of Remake. Scenario writer Nojima confirmed this:

“Aerith's the most important character in the remake so we paid special attention to her lines” (FFVII Remake Ultimania, section 08 “Secrets”, “Development Staff Interviews, Part 2: Tetsuya Nomura, Yoshinori Kitase, Kazushige Nojima”, page 744).

Aerith was already important to OG, so what could’ve motivated Nojima to state her importance to Remake? Could it be that she’s even more important in the latter than she was in the former? In what way?
That was the collaboration! Before we move on from MFF x FFVII Remake entirely though, let’s glean some more relevant information from some of the collaboration’s promotional material and special features.
III. e) iii. Promotional Material and Special Features
Two particular pieces of promotional material for this collaboration stick out to me as extremely relevant. The first is a promotion for a new summons batch in the Mobius FF game, created in honor of the collaboration.
MFF x FFVII Remake Summons Batch Cloud Promo
The summons batch contains three FFVII Remake-themed cards, including a Cloud card. As you can see, this promo reads “Who awaits in the Promised Land?” under Cloud’s picture.
The second is a promotion of an Aerith and summons and an Aerith Job Card (in MFF, Job Cards allow a character to embody an archetype or another character, giving them certain physical traits, clothing, weapons and abilities):
MFF x FFVII Remake Aerith Summons and Job Card Promo
I couldn’t find this picture in English, but the text relevant to us translates to:

“Midgar's Flower Vendor Summons
‘I'm searching for you. I want to meet… you.’
The witch protects the planet, imbues it with power, and leads to the Promised Land.”

A few things here. First, Aerith is referenced by name, and we see a picture of her in her famous praying pose. Secondly, both Cloud and Aerith’s images are attached to the notion of the Promised Land. Cloud’s card asks who awaits there, and Aerith’s evokes a guiding role, as though in response. Thirdly, both Cloud and Aerith are attached to the notion of searching: Cloud searches for the Promised Land and whomever awaits there, and Aerith searches for Cloud’s true self. Speaking of which, the promo also includes parts of Aerith’s famous gondola date quote from OG:

“Aeris: I'm searching for you.
Cloud: …?
Aeris: I want to meet you.
Cloud: But I'm right here.
Aeris: I know, I know... what I mean is... I want to meet... you” (disk 1 chapter 24).

In case you’re wondering about the lady in Aerith’s clothes on the left-hand side, that’s Meia, a character in MFF. She is the “witch” being referred to in the promotional material. She’s often called the Azure Witch. Meia is wearing Aerith’s clothes because a Meia-type Job Card called “Flower Girl of Midgar” was created in honor of the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration:
MFF x FFVII Remake \"Flower Girl of Midgar\" Job Card
There’s even an Aerith outfit you can have Echo wear, and it appears with Wol’s Cloud outfit in the promotional picture:
MFF x FFVII Remake Echo's Aerith Outfit and Wol's Cloud Outfit
To be fair, Tifa also appears in one of these summons promos. However, unlike Aerith’s, her appearance doesn’t reference the Promised Land or her version of the gondola date. She is not presented in connection to Cloud at all. On top of that, while the Aerith and Cloud outfits are promoted together, Tifa is paired with Vincent in the promotional image:
MFF x FFVII Remake Summons Promo Tifa and Vincent
This is hardly indicative of Cloti content in the event collaboration or in Remake.
III. e) iv. Cloud’s Promised Land
All in all, the collaboration tells the story of Cloud searching for his Promised Land, just as post-OG Cloud has been shown doing for years and years of canon SE content. Cloud is searching for Aerith in the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration, just like he was in FFT and DFF, and just like he was shown doing in the 30th FF Anniversary Exposition. This is nothing new. However, the collaboration informs us that this mission to be reunited with Aerith is what leads Cloud to enter the world of Remake.
Echo noted that people obtain the Promised Land they deserve rather than the one they want. What does Cloud deserve? I believe the answer is: another chance at saving Aerith.
Cloud needs to start over, from the top. He needs to go back to the very moment he and Avalanche arrived at mako reactor 1 to bomb it. He needs to return to the beginning of the OG game. He needs a redo, a fix-it, another shot at happiness; a remake.

IV. The Hidden Plot Point: Mission Theory

a) Thesis
Here lies the heart of my theory. My dear Cleriths, Sephiroth isn’t the only one who travelled back in time to undo destiny and create a reality where things go his way: Remake is also —I would even say primarily— Cloud’s chance to free Aerith from her fate, save her life and secure his shot at happiness with her. That’s why he experiences MOTFs in Remake: he’s done FFVII before and now he’s back, although with only fragments of his memories from OG, to save Aerith. That’s why his triggers all involve Aerith: he doesn’t consciously remember anything from OG, but his grief over Aerith is so strong that it rises from his subconsciousness at the slightest trigger.
In Remake, Cloud remembers some but not all elements of the OG timeline (MOTFs), and it appears he only remembers the most important things: all his MOTFs revolve around Aerith and her fate. Our theory explains why Aerith triggers Cloud’s MOTFs in Remake quite perfectly: he traveled back in time to prevent Aerith’s death from happening. Remake Cloud remembers Aerith because, well, he knows her from OG. Post-OG Cloud has returned to the past to save Aerith, resulting in Remake. This is why seeing her in Remake triggers visions and memories of things that haven’t happened yet in Remake, but have already happened to post-OG Cloud. He recognizes her face on Loveless in Remake because seeing her face again is the whole reason he entered Remake in the first place. His visions of her death when they meet once more at the church, the spike of anxiety and grief as he watches her walk away from him, the constriction in his chest when she talks about doing everything in her power to help the planet… all of it, it’s all his memories of OG being jogged by things related to her death. What he’s forgotten from the OG timeline emerges in flashes of pain, images, memory and emotion. Remember that the language the devs used to describe these instances where Cloud reacts to Aerith in this way is always about “remembering” or “recognizing”; Cloud has to have seen Aerith, known Aerith, loved Aerith, lost Aerith and felt the pain of living without Aerith before in order to recognize and remember these feelings. Think about it: this is the only thing that can explain Cloud’s extremely selective MOTFs and the fact that he has MOTFs at all.
The Remake trilogy is all about Cloud and Sephiroth stepping into the ring one more time, both ready to risk it all to get what they lost in the OG timeline. Sephiroth is hungry for destruction and godhood, while Cloud stands determined to save the love of his life. Fighting for their respective goals, the fated enemies enter a new battle in Remake, one to end the war, both needing to win this time after losing so horribly in OG. Now, it’s all or nothing. Sephiroth vying for the planet, and Cloud reaching out for Aerith.
Cloud’s back with a quest, one he can’t fail— it’s the most secret and important plot point of all. I call this the “Mission Theory”.
IV. b) Mission Theory Logistics
There are a few things that remain vague, so I’m going to use this section of the analysis to speculate on the logistics of my theory. We know very little about the hows of the timeline and multiverse shenanigans, so I’m going to hypothesize. However, this analysis is about the whys: so if you’re not interested in mechanical speculation on the logistics of time travel and multiverses, you can totally disregard this section and skip to section “V.”.
IV. b) i. Cloud the Time-Traveler?
It’s unclear whether Remake is the result of post-OG Cloud going back in time to try his hand at the OG timeline again, or the result of post-OG Cloud somehow informing OG Cloud that he must save Aerith this time around. It’s vague in the same way that we aren’t sure if Remake Aerith is post-OG Aerith or if she’s been informed by post-OG Aerith via her connection to the Lifestream as a Cetra. Though it doesn’t much matter how Cloud has memories of Aerith’s death in Remake, I personally think that Remake Cloud is a time-traveling post-OG Cloud. My explanation as to why might be a little confusing, so again, feel free to skip to section “V.”.
One must be able to communicate with the Lifestream in order to obtain knowledge of the future. This access can only be granted to the Cetra or to the souls of the deceased that compose the Lifestream itself. Since Cloud is not a Cetra, he cannot commune with the Lifestream while he is alive, meaning a deceased post-OG Cloud would not have been able to communicate his memories of the OG plot-line with a living OG Cloud. Therefore, the only way Remake Cloud could have knowledge of the future (manifested as MOTFs) would be that Remake Cloud is inhabited by his post-OG consciousness. Effectively, this is time-traveling.
Then comes the question of how Cloud was able to time-travel at all. I have what I consider a pretty solid hypothesis. The most interesting thing about the realm of Palamecia is that every FF character that’s ever appeared in the realm for a cameo died in their core world beforehand (spoilers for FFI, FFV, FFVI, FFX, FFXII, FFXIII, FFXV incoming). These characters include Tidus (FFX), Lightning (FFXIII), Garland (FFI), Sephiroth (FFVII), Gilgamesh (FFV), Vargas (FFVI), Gabranth (FFXII) and Ultros (FFXV). My interpretation of Palamecia serves at least partly as a directory for deceased souls that can’t simply fade. For instance, FFX’s Tidus actually came back to life to be with his love>! Yuna !! FFX!<. Of course, MFF x>! FFX !!FFX!< and FFX-2, just like MFF x FFVII Remake came out between FFVII OG and FFVII. And similarly to Fatal Calling, the ending cutscene of MFF x>! FFX !!Next thing you know, FFX-2 comes out and shows Tidus returning to Yuna and their core world in an optional cutscene.!< The MFF x>! FFX !! Tidus !Remake.
IV. b) ii. Post-OG Cloud’s Amnesia
If we consider that Remake Cloud is a time-travelling post-OG Cloud who’s returned to the start of the OG timeline, we encounter another logistical problem: why doesn’t Cloud remember everything or most things from the OG plot-line in Remake, like Sephiroth and Remake Aerith do? After all, aren’t the three of them in the same time-travelling boat? Why isn’t Cloud as lucid on the matter as the two others? Didn’t the post-OG Cloud in Fatal Calling face his past and origins? Shouldn’t that mean Cloud would remember all that stuff in Remake from the start?
In OG, the true Cloud’s memories are repressed by both his false persona and Jenova. The latter’s memetic abilities are able to block Cloud’s memories of the past from emerging and conflicting with his SOLDIER persona. For instance, in both OG and Remake, Cloud is unable to hear Aerith tell him Zack’s name in Evergreen Park: Jenova blocks it out. I think this is a similar situation: post-OG Cloud’s consciousness carries memories things that Jenova doesn’t want Cloud to know, so she pushes down on them. On top of that, after travelling through different worlds and back through the Lifestream for who knows how long, post-OG Cloud’s consciousness must be quite weak. We know how good Cloud is at repressing, so it makes total sense to me that post-OG Cloud’s consciousness would be trapped or suppressed somewhere deep in Remake Cloud’s subconsciousness. After all, it’s not like this whole time-travelling-consciousness thing is normal for a mind to experience. It’s no wonder Remake Cloud doesn’t consciously remember how things go in OG. However, post-OG Cloud’s love and grief for Aerith are so strong that memories related to her can occasionally pierce through to his Remake consciousness and Jenova’s barriers, resulting in his MOTFs. His pain and love for her are definitely permanent and strong enough:

“A young woman descended from the Ancients who will forever be engraved in [Cloud’s] heart” (Dirge of Cerberus, Japanese manual, Aerith’s character description).
“I believe for those who formerly traveled with her as comrades and for the viewers, each carries their own feelings and love for Aerith. In this story, Cloud also carries his own undying feelings for Aerith, even to this very day… Its relation with the church scene is… Yup. I’ll leave this part to your imagination. (laughs)” (Nomura interview on Advent Children “Designer’s Note” in *Famitsu PS2!*magazine, October 24th issue).

So you see, Remake Cloud’s mind is a little more complicated than OG Cloud’s mind. Everything is still the same in Remake as in OG, but with the added complication that his future self is hidden in his subconscious mind, probably trying to get out.
There is actually pretty good evidence of this. I’m sure you’re aware that whenever Jenova is trying to hide something from Cloud or altering his memory and/or perception, the screen glitches green with an audio cue (34:15-34:29, 1:15:30-1:15:41 and 1:17:14-1:17:29). Guess what? These Jenova audiovisual cues also occur during the MOTFs (ie: MOTF 3 2:58-3:07 and MOTF 4 0:29-0:42). Whenever post-OG Cloud’s consciousness encounters anything that reminds it of losing Aerith, the strength of its pain helps it push memories of Aerith to the surface so that RemakeCloud can consciously see them. Remake Cloud then experiences sensations and/or visions, all from his future self’s memories as they rise to the surface, propelled by grief. Jenova can’t allow Remake Cloud to fully recover his post-OG memory, so in order to shut down the process, its cells jump in to repress the MOTFs: this results in the classic Jenova audiovisual cues. The only time Jenova doesn’t bother to fight against a MOTF is the sixth, as it is quite weak: no visions occur, only a tight sensation in his chest.
IV. b) iii. Eclipse Contact and Cloud’s Memories of Reactor 1
There is one problem I have trouble decoding. In Eclipse Contact, Cloud tells Wol and Echo that the last thing he remembers is the run-up to his arrival at mako reactor 1 (FFVII OG, disk 1, chapter 1). Recall that usually, people summoned to Palamecia have no memories of their world of origin and lives before that point at all. So then why is it that upon being summoned to Palamecia, Cloud recalls the events that took place right before the start of the OG game? This strikes me as highly relevant since this is the exact point in time where post-OG Cloud’s consciousness needs to be transported to in order for Remake to begin, but I haven’t been able to figure out a solid hypothesis on what it could mean. My best guess is that this is the devs’ way of signalling to us that the events of the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration occur before the very beginning of post-OG Cloud’s second try at the OG timeline (Remake).
Now that I’ve shown you how I’ve come to form my Mission Theory and we’ve done some pesky housekeeping, let’s connect some dots, shall we? It’s time to really get into it and see if any of my wild speculation tracks with content from the Remake trilogy so far.

V. Musical Evidence

What about the music of the game? Any hints there? Let’s try to see if we can find support for the Mission Theory in the music made for the Remake trilogy thus far!
As a preface to my musical evidence analysis, I want to insist on something: the story guys tell the soundtrack guys everything. In a high-quality production such as Remake, people who make music for audiovisual media are told everything in advance. They need to know the secrets of every little scene, because their job is to depict whatever is happening through music.
Therefore, if the Mission Theory is true, then there has to be musical evidence for it.
V. a) Preface: The Basics of the FFVII OST
There’s a lot of evidence in the music of the Remake trilogy that we have to address, but before we get into it, I do have to give you the basics of the FFVII soundscape! For the easiest experience, I suggest you keep a tab open for every link I provide for you until the music analysis is over, because we will be hopping from one musical theme to another and then back again.
V. a) i. The World Theme: Cloud’s Troubled Identity
The world theme of FFVII is a perfect example of how musicians working on an OST have to know the secrets of a story as they compose for it. On top of representing the FFVII world as a whole, it doubles as Cloud’s character theme… except that isn’t exactly right. You see, this piece does indeed contain Cloud’s true theme, but Sephiroth and Jenova’s musical motifs also contaminate it. This, of course, symbolizes how Cloud experiences identity sabotage because of these two antagonists. The result is that globally, the world theme does indeed represent Cloud’s character, but it isn’t exclusively Cloud’s in the same way that Cloud’s mind isn’t exclusively his. It’s brilliant storytelling through musical motifs, and evidently requires Uematsu to know in advance that Sephiroth manipulates Cloud’s identity in the story.
For future reference, let’s isolate Cloud’s true theme from Jenova and Sephiroth’s influence.
V. a) i. 1) Sephiroth: Dissonance and Semi-Tone Motif
I’m sure you know Sephiroth’s infamous theme: “One-Winged Angel”. The first motif we need to know is Sephiroth’s threatening, repetitive dissonance motif, which plays all throughout the piece (plays solo at 0:00 to 0:04). The second motif is what I call the semi-tone motif. “One-Winged Angel” has a ton of minor 2nd intervals, which is what we call the relationship between two notes that are only a semi-tone apart. You might recognize the minor 2nd interval in the foreboding Jaws theme. Just like in Jaws, the minor 2nd interval or semi-tone is commonly used to indicate an impending, life-threatening danger, a monster, predator, evil, or insanity; suits Sephiroth quite nicely!
V. a) i. 2) Jenova: Parasite Motif
The track “J-E-N-O-V-A” contains many competing melodies and has generated many variations of those melodies —almost like clones— that all represent aspects of the alien’s character. The main Jenova motif is simply a descending, two-octaves-long, arpeggiated mb6 chord (eight notes total). I’ve played it for you here. Sometimes, this motif is altered to form variations. For instance, in “Listen to the Cries of the Planet”, a variation of Jenova’s main motif is created by changing the order of the notes and reducing the number of notes to only six (0:00-0:03), however, it remains an arpeggiated mb6 chord. Regardless of the alteration, if you hear an arpeggiated mb6 chord, it means Jenova is creeping close by or that its influence is at work.
The variation of the mb6 arpeggiated chord that concerns us alters Jenova’s main theme so it ascends from the tonic to the b6 note and descends back to the tonic, then ending on the lower dominant for a total of eight notes. I’ve played it for you here. I call this variation the “parasite motif”, because it is often heard when Cloud is being controlled by Jenova. For instance, it plays when Cloud loses himself and becomes unusually violent in Rebirth’s chapter 13 (17:25-18:34), signalling to us that Jenova is in control. It is also the main motif of the track “Who… Am I?”, which evidently symbolizes Jenova’s fuelling of Cloud’s identity crisis— though here, the parasite motif is shortened to its six first notes.
V. a) i. 3) Cloud’s True Self
Now that we can recognize Sephiroth and Jenova’s motifs, let’s return to the world theme to isolate Cloud’s true self. Cloud’s true theme can be heard from 0:51 to 3:48. It consists of a section A (0:51-1:54), followed by a section B (1:54-2:41), and then returns to section A (2:41-3:48).
After Cloud’s true theme concludes however, it seems he experiences a psychic interference: doubt and confusion weave through the world theme (3:48-4:09), representing an instability in his identity. I call this interruption of Cloud’s true theme the “interference section”. It symbolizes a moment of psychic interference or weakness within Cloud that Sephiroth and Jenova take advantage of to take control of Cloud.
The end of the interference section introduces Jenova’s parasite motif. It slithers in (4:09), later joined by Sephiroth’s dissonance motif (4:16): Cloud’s mind and identity are being hijacked by the two antagonists in service of their evil plans.
They torment Cloud, dominating his mind until he manages to free himself: section A of Cloud’s true theme begins playing again (6:06), closing the loop of the theme.
Based on this musical storytelling, if you already knew the character motifs going into OG, you might’ve suspected something odd was going on with Cloud’s identity, and that Jenova and Sephiroth were involved. All this to say that whatever music is playing at any given time can give us hints as to what is going on. That’s the power and significance of a good soundtrack. Trust me when I say that with Uematsu and his team, we’re in excellent hands. And remember: the story guys tell the soundtrack guys everything.
V. a) ii. Aerith’s Theme
Another base we have to cover before checking out the Remake soundtrack is Aerith’s theme. I’m sure everyone here is familiar with it, but I insist that you refresh your memory. It consists of a section A (0:00-0:34), a section B (0:34-1:13) and a section C (1:13-2:00), concluding with a repeat of section A.
V. a) iii. Motifs and Timing in FFVII OSTs
I’m going to analyze pieces in great detail, which people who haven’t studied or paid attention to soundtracks may find strange. To prevent anyone from making the mistake of thinking that I’m reading too much into things, I want to emphasize that the music that plays during the Remaketrilogy’s cutscenes is carefully timed, composed and arranged to match the events in the cutscenes, as they are provided in advance to the musicians. Composers pay lots of attention to whatever is going on onscreen so they can include the corresponding musical motifs as accompaniment at the exact right moments, always striving to get the timing perfect. I’m not exaggerating the effort and minutia involved in soundtrack composition and arrangement. Here are just a few sound staff comments from the “Material 4: Soundtrack” section of the FFVII Remake Material Ultimania to prove it:

“[To] make sure players really feel the weight of the moment, we worked hard on getting the tempo and the entry timing of each instrument exactly right. In particular, that big ‘boom’ that sounds almost like a meteor crashing down was fine-tuned to match the timing of the logo's appearance. I remember this was a real sticking point for us, because if the boom's timing was even slightly off, the effect would be completely different. We […] had to sequence [each and every sound] to play at exactly the right moment” (Shotaro Shima on track “Midgar, City of Mako”, page 229).

&

“I was originally told to keep this piece to under two minutes, but it ended up being over six minutes long, in order to match the flow of the cutscene. I arranged the track while watching the latest CG visuals that had been rendered for the scene” (Naoyuki Honzawa on track “Smash ‘Em, Rip ‘Em”, page 309).

&

“This is the track that plays during the tour of Shinra’s different divisions. The movie shown in the Visual Entertainment Hall describes the history of the Ancients (0:25 onward in the soundtrack version), and I wanted to create a musical link to them as well, so I made use of the chord progression from ‘Aerith’s Theme’ [D(I)-Am(Vm)-D(I).] [This simple sequence of moving from major to minor and back again creates a really mysterious air. Then, during the section where the movie recounts the history of the construction of the Shinra Building (1:47 onward in the soundtrack version), I quoted a section of the Shinra theme” (Yasunori Nishiki on track “Stewards of the Planet”, page 313).

V. b) The Remake OST
Now that you’re ready, it’s time to verify the Mission Theory’s validity with Remake’s music.
V. b) i. MOTF 6 Music
We were able to explain Remake Cloud’s MOTFs with the Mission Theory, and it just so happens that the music that plays during the scene of MOTF 6 is unique to Remake. This gives us the perfect opportunity: we should analyze the piece that plays as it occurs to evaluate the legitimacy of our theory on the Remake trilogy, using all the motifs we uncovered in section “V. a)”.
First, a refresher on the scene and on our theory’s interpretation of it. The party is gathered in Aerith and Ifalna’s old room at Shinra HQ. Here is how the scene is described by the VA script notes:

“The Whispers once again close in [on Aerith], but Aerith refuses to stop speaking this time.
Aerith: Listen to me. […] Shinra isn’t the enemy. They were the ones who set things in motion, but our true foe is someone else.
At that moment, the spectacle of Meteor they saw in the Visual Entertainment Hall comes into Cloud and the others’ heads.
Aerith: Somehow, some way, I want to help— all of you… the planet…
For some reason, Cloud feels his chest constrict tightly” (FFVII Remake Material Ultimania Plus, VA script notes, “Aerith Speaks”).

Indeed, right after Aerith says she wants to help the planet any way she can, Cloud looks down at his chest with a frown and a quiet grunt (7:46-7:54). According to the Mission Theory, this tightness in Cloud’s chest can be explained as an emergence of post-OG Cloud’s grief, triggered by the slightest allusion to Aerith’s sacrifice.
The piece that plays during this scene is called “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra”. It is one of many variations of Aerith’s iconic theme arranged for Remake. However, Cloud’s theme is just as prominent in the piece— if not, more.
V. b) i. 1) The Fate Motif
Before we interpret “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra”, I need to introduce you to one more motif that crops up in the piece. There is a windy motif that appears (from 1:45 onwards) and it is unaccounted for, despite how it’s clearly meant to represent something. I’ve become certain that this wind noise symbolizes fate, and I’ll tell you why.
In the MOTF 6 scene, just after Nanaki explains how he gained knowledge of the Whispers via contact with Aerith (7:23), they emerge and begin swirling aggressively around Aerith (7:26). Her hair and dress blow and ripple in the resulting wind. From this very moment onward “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” (3:00), a string section (bowed instruments in the violin family) that deliberately emphasizes the airy sound of the bow crossing the strings enters, creating a windy effect that adds to the already present wind noise (that started at 1:45). As the Whispers progressively become even more aggressive onscreen, both the wind SFX of the cutscene and the wind noise in the piece get louder and louder. Because of the timing of its appearance and crescendo in the cutscene, I’m certain the wind noise is meant to represent the restrictive flow of fate; it only makes sense, given that destiny is a current —or a wind— that cannot be broken, and Aerith is like a helpless petal in fate’s carefully planned storm. Of course, it’s also quite significant that the Whispers make a windy noise as they fly. You can hear it every time they’re onscreen, like when they first appear to Cloud in chapter 2 of Remake (17:45-18:20), or when the White Whispers hold Cloud back from chasing after Aerith during Rebirth’s Sleeping Forest scene in chapter 14 (28:43-29:45). You can also hear the wind sounds in other Whisper-related tracks, such as “Whorl of Whispers” (clearly audible at 2:50-3:05), as well as “A Death Not Ordained by Fate” (clearly audible at 2:56-3:18). Therefore, I’ll call these wind noises the “fate motif”.
V. b) ii. 2) Interpreting “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra”
In part 1 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” (0:00-1:45), Aerith’s theme and Cloud’s true theme play simultaneously, their respective phrases fitting perfectly together, interweaving peacefully and softly. It sounds like the two of them are chatting, dancing bashfully yet contently and in perfect sync, glad to be exactly where they’re meant to be as their themes sing together in harmony (soft piano). Part 1 of this piece is about Cloud and Aerith becoming important to one another as they discover their soulmate bond.
Unfortunately that contentment doesn’t last. In part 2 (1:45-3:00), Cloud experiences a moment of psychic vulnerability (world theme’s interference section). Fate lurks (fate motif enters quietly). His instability forces our couple’s sweet dance to a halt, and Aerith’s theme must retreat as Cloud’s confusion takes center stage. Sephiroth torments and taunts him (semi-tone played by strings, 2:03-2:10), taking advantage of Cloud’s psychic interference to plunge him into darkness (world theme’s interference section ends, low cello enters, 2:18): Cloud temporarily becomes a darker version of himself as evil corrupts him (piano plays section A phrases 1 and 2 of Cloud’s true theme in minor, 2:18-2:53). Jenova finally reveals itself and promptly exits, releasing Cloud’s mind from its grasp (seven first notes of parasite motif played twice on piano 2:53-3:00). Cloud is free, but the damage has been done: his dance with Aerith has long been interrupted, and she is gone. Part 2 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” is about Cloud being manipulated in service of Sephiroth and Jenova’s evil plan, interrupting his interaction with Aerith.
Part 3 (3:00-3:33) kicks off the mechanisms of a tragic fate (strings section joins fate motif, 3:00). Both anxious that she’s disappeared from his side and terrified of the darkness he just discovered inside him (in part 2), Cloud fearfully calls out for Aerith (phrase 1 of Cloud’s true theme’s section A, timid and hesitant piano, 3:04-3:15). Before his psychic interference began (start of part 2), Cloud’s voice was accompanied by Aerith’s as they grew closer and closer (their character themes mingling in part 1)… but now, Aerith isn’t answering his call, and he cannot find her (Aerith’s theme doesn’t to join Cloud’s anymore).
Anxious, Cloud tries calling out for Aerith a second time (section A phrase 2 of Cloud’s true theme’s, 3:19-3:31), searching for her in the hopes that they can continue their dance, but even now, Aerith does not respond. She’s gone (Aerith’s theme remains absent). Destiny keeps Aerith away from Cloud (fate motif gently crescendos). Part 3 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” is about Cloud’s separation from Aerith, his search for her, and the fear and anxiousness he feels when he realizes he cannot find her.
And then, part 4 begins with a sweet, gentle voice, calling out from the blackened horizon: it’s Aerith (section B phrase 1 of Aerith’s theme, soft piano, 3:33-3:45). Cloud finally hears her respond to his pleas: he’s found her. Fate begins howling in protest, doubling its efforts to keep Cloud and Aerith apart (fate motif crescendos noticeably in reaction to Aerith’s theme, 3:45). You can just picture Cloud running toward Aerith, struggling against the current of destiny to try and close the distance between them. Aerith tries calling out for Cloud a second time, (section B phrase 2 of Aerith’s theme, 3:40-3:43), but the Whispers only swirl around her more ferociously, taking her away in the uncompromising current of fate (fate motif continues to crescendo). Aerith tries again (section B phrase 1 of Aerith’s theme, 3:47-3:49). It sounds like she’s saying “Cloud, I’m over here, come find me!”
Fate doesn’t take too kindly to her defying it. Cloud and Aerith are not supposed to be together; it can’t be, it won’t. She’s destined to die to save the planet, and he’s destined to remain hollow forevermore. I can picture Cloud breaking into a sprint at the sound of her voice, running countercurrent to the flow of destiny— but the winds are so loud, fate’s demands are so strong, and the Whispers are shrieking in defense of destiny now. Aerith’s voice emerges for the fourth time (first three notes of section B phrase 3 of Aerith’s theme, 3:54 to 3:56). Fate screams louder, louder (steep crescendo of fate motif, 3:59-4:02). In a desperate hail Mary, Aerith shouts out one more time, as though throwing her hand out toward Cloud’s extended fingers (section C phrase 1 of Aerith’s theme, louder and more insistent, cutting through the fate motif as it crescendos sharply, 4:00-4:06). Part 4 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” is about Cloud and Aerith desperately trying to defy fate in order to be together. And then, it all stops: fate has seemingly quieted Aerith (4:04-4:08)…
Part 5 (4:08-4:27) begins with Cloud jumping, launching himself off the ground with all his strength (Cloud’s true theme section A phrase 2, first 5 notes, melody starting on the note E5 and ascending) as Aerith plummets toward the ground in a fatal fall (Aerith’s theme section C phrase 1, melody starting on the note E6 and descending, the last note altered)— he successfully catches her in mid-air (both Cloud’s ascending melody and Aerith’s descending melody meet in the middle of the octave, first uniting on B5, and then ending on A5). I’ve recreated the melodies for you here so you can hear this reunion more clearly. If you consider that the airy strings in this piece represent fate, which I do, the fact that they follow Cloud and Aerith’s themes in part 5 signifies that they are now in control of their own destinies, and successfully making it their fate to reunite.
To be completely frank, I did not realize until right now writing this that Cloud unites with Aerith in part 5, even though his theme is right there. I’m so excited to share this part with you.
We hear Aerith once more, her voice quietly trailing off into the silence (phrase 4 of section C of Aerith’s theme) with no conclusion (phrase 5 normally follows phrase 4 to conclude Aerith’s theme, but is absent here). Part 5 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” suggests that Cloud will save Aerith and that the couple will change their fate, but also conveys an uncertain and open-ended quality.
(continued in part 5)

Long ago the world was besieged by demons and the Gods having pity on the beings below bestowed upon the world magic. They had emplanted in the earth like a seed and from that sprang forth the power to beat the demon hoards. But this power had unforeseen effects on the children of the gods, the elves. When they received this gift it mixed with their godly blood and gave them the ability to call upon the ancient magic only available to the gods. The High Elves were bestowed with the ancient magic of Light. The Dark Elves were given the ancient magic of darkness. Lastly the Forest Elves were given the ancient magic of the forest. Soon the Demon king was defeated, sealed away and peace reigned. Over the centuries many conflicts arose thanks to this power, the hunt for magical creatures began with the elves being at the top of the list. The elves tried to fight back but because of the mingling with other races they had lost their connection to the ancient magic. With the atrocities committed by these power hungry monsters they were named sorcerers and both them and magic were labeled as evil.
As far back as you can remember you were always treated as scum with no parents or home. You were slave to your own people since you were very little and you didn't know why. Was it because your dark gray skin, almost sut black, that didn't match the light color of theirs, your snow white hair, your red eyes that seem more vibrant than everyone else's, or could it be the fact that your shadow was your only friend. For a long time your shadow would stretchand shrinkand shape itself in various ways. At times it seemed that other shadows would do the same around you. When the other villagers caught wind of what you could do you were locked in a basement filled with light and not a single shadow to call your friend. You only came out during the day to work around the house then go back. You were fed table scraps and stale food if they remembered. Years go by and you longed for the smell of fresh air, cool shade under the trees, and the shadows that use to dance around you.
One day you were suddenly ripped from your bright hole in the earth and brought before a robed man. You were so numb to everything that you just stared blankly at the ground the whole time. You never paid attention to the conversation only hearing stuff like "cursed child" or "she will be an excellent sacrifice" and feeling a collar clamped around your neck. Suddenly as you were being pulled to the sorcerer’s side you see a red glow in your vision. You look up to see the village on fire and Elven bodies everywhere. As soon as you saw this horror the only thing you could feel was joy and delight as the demise of your abusers but it was soon replaced with guilt and horror at the realization that you could ever feel such a way towards another's death.
After the slaughter you were ushered into a carriage and sent through the forest. With weeks of travel and barely anything to eat, you finally arrive at an old mansion outside of a small town. You are elated at the scenery but this doesn't last long as you are rushed into the building and down to the dungeon. You are put in a bright cell and chained to the wall via your collar. For the next few months you are put through hell as you are carefully dissected and experimented on. It is worse than the village and it leaves you begging for death.
One day, after a series of loud bangs, the sorcerer rushes in as a magic circle appears under you. Too tired and in too much pain to move, you just watch as he grabs a knife and kneels over you. Understanding what's about to happen, you resign yourself to your fate. Just as he is about to plunge the dagger into your chest, the door gets blown off its hinges and a robed figure steps through. Your captor tries again to sacrifice you but the figure clears the distance in and instant and tears off his head. In your final moments awake, the last thing you see are two cold blue eyes staring down at you.
You slowly gain consciousness as you feel yourself laying on something soft and warm. Thin fabric is tightly wrapped around your painful wounds as a you feel a heavy cloth against the bare skin of your naked body. Soon the pain builds waking you from your sleep. Your eyes slowly open to find a round stone ceiling above you. To your right a wooden door and to your left a stone archway leading out to a balcony. In front of the bed is the glow of a fireplace with two chairs facing it and a table between them. When your strength starts to come back you sit up, a single chain link taps against the collar you still wear, and you stare at the door wondering who brought you here and what might happen to you.

Long ago the world was besieged by demons and the Gods having pity on the beings below bestowed upon the world magic. They had emplanted in the earth like a seed and from that sprang forth the power to beat the demon hoards. But this power had unforeseen effects on the children of the gods, the elves. When they received this gift it mixed with their godly blood and gave them the ability to call upon the ancient magic only available to the gods. The High Elves were bestowed with the ancient magic of Light. The Dark Elves were given the ancient magic of darkness. Lastly the Forest Elves were given the ancient magic of the forest. Soon the Demon king was defeated, sealed away and peace reigned. Over the centuries many conflicts arose thanks to this power, the hunt for magical creatures began with the elves being at the top of the list. The elves tried to fight back but because of the mingling with other races they had lost their connection to the ancient magic. With the atrocities committed by these power hungry monsters they were named sorcerers and both them and magic were labeled as evil.
As far back as you can remember you were always treated as scum with no parents or home. You were slave to your own people since you were very little and you didn't know why. Was it because your dark gray skin, almost sut black, that didn't match the light color of theirs, your snow white hair, your red eyes that seem more vibrant than everyone else's, or could it be the fact that your shadow was your only friend. For a long time your shadow would stretchand shrinkand shape itself in various ways. At times it seemed that other shadows would do the same around you. When the other villagers caught wind of what you could do you were locked in a basement filled with light and not a single shadow to call your friend. You only came out during the day to work around the house then go back. You were fed table scraps and stale food if they remembered. Years go by and you longed for the smell of fresh air, cool shade under the trees, and the shadows that use to dance around you.
One day you were suddenly ripped from your bright hole in the earth and brought before a robed man. You were so numb to everything that you just stared blankly at the ground the whole time. You never paid attention to the conversation only hearing stuff like "cursed child" or "she will be an excellent sacrifice" and feeling a collar clamped around your neck. Suddenly as you were being pulled to the sorcerer’s side you see a red glow in your vision. You look up to see the village on fire and Elven bodies everywhere. As soon as you saw this horror the only thing you could feel was joy and delight as the demise of your abusers but it was soon replaced with guilt and horror at the realization that you could ever feel such a way towards another's death.
After the slaughter you were ushered into a carriage and sent through the forest. With weeks of travel and barely anything to eat, you finally arrive at an old mansion outside of a small town. You are elated at the scenery but this doesn't last long as you are rushed into the building and down to the dungeon. You are put in a bright cell and chained to the wall via your collar. For the next few months you are put through hell as you are carefully dissected and experimented on. It is worse than the village and it leaves you begging for death.
One day, after a series of loud bangs, the sorcerer rushes in as a magic circle appears under you. Too tired and in too much pain to move, you just watch as he grabs a knife and kneels over you. Understanding what's about to happen, you resign yourself to your fate. Just as he is about to plunge the dagger into your chest, the door gets blown off its hinges and a robed figure steps through. Your captor tries again to sacrifice you but the figure clears the distance in and instant and tears off his head. In your final moments awake, the last thing you see are two cold blue eyes staring down at you.
You slowly gain consciousness as you feel yourself laying on something soft and warm. Thin fabric is tightly wrapped around your painful wounds as a you feel a heavy cloth against the bare skin of your naked body. Soon the pain builds waking you from your sleep. Your eyes slowly open to find a round stone ceiling above you. To your right a wooden door and to your left a stone archway leading out to a balcony. In front of the bed is the glow of a fireplace with two chairs facing it and a table between them. When your strength starts to come back you sit up, a single chain link taps against the collar you still wear, and you stare at the door wondering who brought you here and what might happen to you.