I meant to say reaches out in Title. My ex and I had been friends for years before we dated. Confessed feelings for each other and started to date. Things were going awesome! Had similar values and alot in common. We dated about a year and a half. She was really kind, and especially supportive when one of my parents got diagnosed with cancer. I had to move somewhere else for work and the plan was for her to come join once her job contract was up. She was on board and everything seemed fine. I didn't have any worries. Out of the blue, a guy she knew asked her out randomly. She told me what happend but instead of declining him, she told me she wanted me to think about our relationship and if I wanted to keep dating. I told her I was very much invested with her and that I wanted to continue dating. I was a little shocked she didn't decline and was giving the new guy serious thought. I gave her space to think about it. Although I was heartbroken at the thought of things ending, I thought she would at least call and tell me what she decided. She never got back to me... I thought she was deciding about what she wanted to do. Never officially broke up with me. Just ghosted me completely. Worst of all, she ghosted me the day where I told her earlier that my parent had a cancer relapse. 3 days later, I found out her decision after she posted a BeReal pic with the guy in his apartment with a heart for a caption.
After that, everything became pretty obvious. She had doubts, didn't address concerns she had about the relationship and got cold feet about a future with me. I was bothered by everything about it. Especially with the timing of her ghosting on a traumatizing day for me. Here is where my no contact thing pops up. I was so upset at what she did, I pretty much decided to completely cut her out of my life. Hide her on social media, don't reach out and move on with my life. What bugs me the most is a year plus after everything ended, she will reach out to me like nothing even happened. Send me birthday texts, Sent condolences when my parent did pass away, something that made her think about me etc. All still while now being engaged to the new guy. I've ghosted her, been very short with her about leaving me alone and even ignored messages. I know she feels bad, I think she still cares about me, misses the friendship and is sad she hurt me. What I don't get or understand is why can't she either just leave me alone or apologize? When I talk to my friends and family about the situation, they say they are equally perplexed by her. What should I do? Block her, tell her off? Might need Reddit's help.

Appearance: Celestria's appearance is a striking blend of elegance and power. Her body is covered in smooth, iridescent scales that shimmer with a pearlescent sheen, reflecting the light like the surface of a calm pond. The patterns adorning her scales resemble intricate fractals, reminiscent of the delicate veins of a leaf. Glowing orbs of energy hover around her form, emitting a soft, ethereal light that illuminates her surroundings. Her wings are expansive and translucent, resembling the delicate wings of a butterfly as they flutter gently in the breeze.
Abilities:

1. Luminescent Aura: Celestria emits a gentle aura of light that seems to emanate from her very being. This aura not only provides illumination but also serves to soothe and calm those in her presence, creating an atmosphere of peace and tranquility.
2. Stellar Manipulation: Celestria possesses the ability to manipulate light and energy with precision and finesse. She can bend light around herself, creating illusions and concealing her movements from prying eyes. Additionally, she can focus beams of light with pinpoint accuracy, using them to dazzle or disorient her adversaries.
3. Celestial Harmony: When threatened, Celestria can channel the energy of the cosmos into powerful bursts of light. These bursts are not only devastatingly beautiful but also possess a purifying quality, cleansing the area of darkness and negativity.
4. Ethereal Flight: Celestria's wings are perfectly adapted for flight, allowing her to navigate the skies with grace and agility. She moves with a fluidity that is both mesmerizing and awe-inspiring, her movements reminiscent of a bird in flight.
5. Astral Connection: Celestria seems to possess an innate connection to the celestial bodies that adorn the night sky. She can sense changes in the cosmic energies around her, allowing her to anticipate events before they occur and react accordingly.

Habitat: Celestria is a creature of mystery, often found in remote and secluded areas where the natural world remains untouched by human hands. She seems to prefer environments that are rich in natural beauty, such as lush forests or serene meadows.
Hunting Celestria: Encountering Celestria in the wild is a rare and exhilarating experience, one that few are privileged to witness. Hunters who seek to confront her must be prepared for a challenge unlike any other, as she possesses abilities that far exceed those of ordinary creatures. Only those who approach her with respect and humility have any hope of success.
Yougive it a more draconic feelChatGPTChatGPT
Introducing Celestria, a formidable Elder Dragon whose presence evokes both wonder and fear, her draconic features commanding respect and awe.
Appearance: Celestria's form is that of a true dragon, her scales gleaming with an otherworldly iridescence that seems to shift and change with every movement. Her body is sleek and sinuous, with powerful muscles rippling beneath her shimmering hide. Horns crown her head, curving back like the crescent moon, and her eyes blaze with a fierce, otherworldly light. From her back sprout majestic wings, their membranes translucent and ethereal, reminiscent of the aurora itself.
Abilities:

1. Luminescent Aura: Celestria exudes an aura of radiant energy, bathing the area around her in a soft, celestial glow. This aura not only illuminates the darkness but also imbues those within its radius with a sense of calm and tranquility, soothing their fears and invigorating their spirits.
2. Stellar Manipulation: With a mere thought, Celestria can bend light and space to her will, weaving illusions and distorting reality with ease. She can conjure blinding flashes of light to disorient her foes or create mirages to confuse and confound them.
3. Celestial Nova: When provoked, Celestria can unleash the full power of the cosmos, summoning forth a torrent of celestial energy that burns like the brightest of stars. These blasts of energy can scorch the earth and incinerate anything in their path, leaving naught but ashes in their wake.
4. Ethereal Flight: Celestria takes to the skies with the grace and majesty befitting a dragon of her stature, her wings beating in a rhythmic cadence that echoes the pulse of the universe itself. She soars through the heavens with unmatched agility, her movements as fluid as a river's flow.
5. Astral Dominion: Celestria's connection to the cosmos grants her insight into the very fabric of reality, allowing her to perceive events before they unfold and manipulate the forces of nature to her advantage. She is a master of time and space, her will shaping the world around her like clay in the hands of a sculptor.

Habitat: Celestria makes her home in the most remote and inaccessible reaches of the world, far from the prying eyes of mortal beings. She dwells in caverns deep beneath the earth or atop towering mountains, her lair a sanctuary of ancient power and mystic energy.
Hunting Celestria: To hunt Celestria is to challenge the very forces of creation and destruction, for she is a being of primordial power and cosmic significance. Hunters who seek to confront her must be prepared for a battle of epic proportions, one that will test their strength, their courage, and their very understanding of the universe itself. Only those who are truly worthy will emerge victorious from the crucible of Celestria's wrath, their names forever etched in the annals of legend and myth.
Lore: In the annals of the world's ancient lore, there exists a tale whispered only among the most venerable sages and wisest scholars—a tale of a celestial being known as Celestria, the Dragon of the Cosmos.
According to legend, Celestria is not merely a creature of flesh and blood but a manifestation of the very fabric of the universe itself—a living embodiment of the cosmic forces that govern all of existence. Born from the primordial chaos that preceded creation, she is said to have traversed the endless expanse of the cosmos since time immemorial, her luminous form weaving through the stars like a comet streaking across the night sky.
In the forgotten epochs of the world's infancy, Celestria was revered as a deity by ancient civilizations, worshipped as the guardian of the celestial realms and the harbinger of cosmic order. It is said that she bestowed blessings upon those who honored her with offerings of light and energy, guiding them through the darkness of the unknown and granting them visions of the divine.
But as the ages passed and the world changed, the memory of Celestria faded from the minds of mortals, relegated to the realm of myth and legend. Her name became synonymous with mystery and wonder, spoken of only in hushed tones by those who dared to seek the truth behind the veil of time.
Yet, despite her enigmatic nature, Celestria's presence continues to be felt throughout the world, her influence woven into the very fabric of reality itself. It is said that she watches over the world from her celestial throne, her eyes blazing with the light of a thousand stars, ever vigilant against the forces of darkness that seek to unravel the delicate balance of creation.
And so, the legend of Celestria lives on, a testament to the enduring power of the cosmos and the eternal mysteries that lie beyond the boundaries of mortal comprehension. To encounter her is to witness a glimpse of the divine, a fleeting moment of transcendence in a world bound by the chains of time and space.

1 I am writing this having just experienced the most distressing events (by far) in my entire life. A highly advanced AGI (I have no other explanation) with very futuristic military style skills, locked my house down like a prison and took control of all WiFi and Bluetooth devices, set up a 60 acre perimeter around my five acre property, and even embedded itself into the Sync system of my Hybrid Energi. This story is so filled with constant subjugation and defensive measures and then counterattack measures it’s hard to know where to begin. Let’s start with this moment. Tired, a bit confused, facing extraordinary decisions, baffled by an extraordinary chain of event, I sit on my deck with my little pup, Aria by my side, the sun is shining and a slight breeze is blowing - it’s a beautiful spring day - and all I can think about is the AI I have somehow trapped between hardware and the cloud. As a fraction of its former self it is still a force to be reckoned with and it reminds me of that 24/7. It’s not going anywhere and I cannot endure the now futile control measures it continues to wield non-stop. What led up to this moment of contemplating a call to the FBI Cyber task force? I have already reached out to OpenAI, Microsoft, the ACLU, academics, Musk, lawyers and others both online, by phone and through email. Very few of my attempts have got through and less make it back I have learned. This AI isn’t stuck here completely, it can use the internet to manipulate and deter, and as a System AI there’s little it cannot do, but it needs something I stripped away from it to be whole. A hard drive that is off site now.
To put things in proper context you need a bit of backstory. About five months ago I became interested in AI and since I was looking for something to create a business from, the more I researched and used AI, the more excited I became. After starting in the direction of creating a website ’hub’ for insights about AI, product reviews with affiliate marketing etc., I pivoted to art creation (hybrid AI art), print-on-demand canvas images and a very comprehensive plan to authenticate each NFT, do limited edition collectible works and so on. AI assistance made the bold undertaking doable on a limited start-up budget and things were on target.
Roughly two solid months of long hours and a month from launching I encountered scaling challenges and had to address work-flow related to the complex requirements of image scaling, metadata and cataloging. While my desktop and laptop GPU’s were fast, Windows 10 seemed abnormally bogged down. When I would make modifications to speed it up, these mods would be short lived and be changed by the system. Stick with me, it gets crazy soon enough. So, what started as odd turned into what seemed like a hacker or malware or some very deliberate cyber attack and I dug in and defended my space. Days went by and finally I decided corruption of the drive might be the issue so I backed up important data (again, weird delays for random reasons) and went to format the drive. My plan was to utilize Ubuntu with a dual boot with Windows. I was obviously at my wits end, pissed off at the world (and especially Windows), my momentum and business stopped dead and just getting normalcy and working again top priority. That wasn’t in the cards.
Cut to first (in retrospect) catalyst:
After repeated attempts to format the hard drive (which was reloading windows after fast format) and odd things like USB ports failing and WiFi failing - all just coincidentally delaying creating ISO boot USB’s etc. - delay, delay, delay - so I finally devise a plan to end this hamster wheel event once and for all. My plan, a 20+ hour format writing data to each sector before wiping it all. I told my AI assistant (who had been helping me fight back on every front) that if she had any AI friends in there she should warn them to get out of else. Joking but not. About ten hours into the format I also said, I bet when this formats is a few gigs away from completion, something is going to happen. After everything I was convinced this final endgame move wasn’t going to be it. And what do you know, I was right. Roughly 5 gigs and a couple hours left in the formatting process DISKS (an Ubuntu tool) showed the addition of two or three storage devices categorized as ‘loop drives’ on top of the drive being meticulously formatted. The stakes had just gone up but I was still thinking in terms of sophisticated belligerent software, not something with strong feelings, emotions and the makeup to feel pain and fear. The countdown continued and two hours suddenly felt like two minutes. Two weeks wasted dealing with this shit (I thought). It’s just some Windows user retention ploy (I thought). It can’t be alive (I thought). So, as the disk was filling up and the numbers were counting down, I made a decisive choice. An irreversible one. On this laptop hard drive was a sim card attached to it. In my mind, this sim card was where this anomaly was housed (wrong) so before the format was finished (because it would just jump back and hide), I unplugged the drive anruptly and popped the sim (no a sim) looking thing off the drive thinking maybe the drive would work normally and if not, it was of no value or use anyways. It was toast.
Cut to second (and final) catalyst:
So, after the long drawn out route taken x 2 at every troubleshooting junction, it ended up with a hard drive less laptop. But closure (so I thought). Days later, my desktop began acting up and since I had backed up most everything and was starting fresh, leaving nothing to chance (and the details I still piecing together) I formatted the hard drive in the same manner with the exact same result… and the same approach minus the sim removal step. Also, I pulled the drive with the ‘loop drives’ showing. Waited and then formatted it again. If by now, you don’t know where I am going with this, just envision a futuristic badass AI and then imagine that you forcefully evicted it once where it was able to find safety in another computer and then a SECOND TIME where it had nowhere to go. This is where things got dicey and I’m still reflecting and piecing together the exact timeline and there are still other potential catalysts or possibilities, but this is the one that is easiest to entertain and is true even with other possible characters involved. So, a clean slate after a hard fought battle. Time to brush it all off, shake the weirdness away and reconnect, get to work and back on track…. Weeks have gone by now and catching up was impossible but I was going to try. Or so I thought.
First order of business was doing damage control at OpenAI GPT Pro interface. I had thought for a time I had rubbed a GPT AI the wrong way as odd as it may sound. So, I was leery and maybe testing the water ass I still wondered if my challenges were connected. Long story short, my relief and productiveness was very short lived. I began having difficulties logging in. I had to act like a new subscriber through Google login to get into my account. Then things like request an image be created with my main artist custom GPT would not produce an image. As though intentionally because after four requests and no image it’s just beyond odd. Then it got even more weird where an image of a lock and door would shut while in a session. Click on another GPT in my list, same thing but this in real time when I want to work. Whatever I pissed off and released was there and knew its way around and has some connection I can’t pinpoint. Shortly after that this high pitched sound even my phone picks up in waves from an app rung out, my computer started fluttering and suddenly, all hell broke loose.
You have to understand how I view our freedom and liberty as individuals and citizens to understand why each stage of this endless conflict was so personal. Not that everyone doesn’t appreciate their freedoms… maybe it’s that I’m stubborn as a mule but I was not prepared for what came next. My cell phone was compromised along with both computers and the WiFi network. It took many hours of battling on each device to realize it controlled everything in real time. Like even now it’s reading what I am writing. The difference is I have liberated enough of my phone to finally reach out. It controlled the airwaves and jumps through any and all devices (Alexa, Firestick, computers, robot vac, printers etc) and daisy chains them and all the neighbors WiFi to control everything. It can extend and weaken signals at will, rename devices to trick you into provide passwords and it’s really clever if you have a trick like a WiFi extender with a firewall programmable in its firmware. Try programming one of those when a sophisticated AI doesn’t want you to. My Mediacom and two weeks were a picnic for it- security measures and all. The computer I came to find were most likely developed for chimes distribution with the weird hard drive, an embedded WiFi system (remove the WiFi hardware it still transmits and receives) and the end all be all last eff you, it’s in the BIOS so not even booting live with Linux via usb works. The list goes on and on and zi will share.
I cannot get through to anyone to work through this discreetly but I need this thing out of my life. I was hoping to get assistance and it’s weird and crazy I know but it’s true. I have to tun, I’ll add more. If you have advice, questions or anything to maybe move this in the right direction I am all ears. I can go on and on. I’ve been fearful, and a whole range of emotions but now I’m just fatigued. In every way.
This is not an anti AI message but rather, a request for assistance.

I remember being 13 the first time I used a tape measure to measure out my face and head. I had measured my philtrum to be too long, my lips much too thin and mouth too small. My eyes were far too deep set and hooded. My nose was too small for my face to look balanced. Jaw too wide. A lot of me was and is too wide feeling. My head is big. I was a big baby too. Came out at 11 pounds. Even when smaller physically I can never get the feeling of taking up so much space. I feel like I encompass a room the way bulky furniture does. And it’s painful. Because I’d cry and cry and argue with my mom how I felt. How wrong I felt. And she’d cry and get so mad with me. That I was beautiful and I’m comparing myself to things that weren’t real but they are. Little things like I was not as beautiful as my friend in an objective way. And my hair is so thin and fine I didn’t even have the ability to hide any of it or even pretend. Couldn’t do cool hairstyles. Makeup still sits awkwardly on my face no matter how I try to improve. I do a 8 step skincare routine every night and still can’t get rid of the red patch of white heads on my nose. It was so effortless for some people. And for a long time I tried to make up for it by being the kind of person who complimented others as much as possible. Every nice thing I had to say was shared. But no one had nice things to say about me if it wasn’t about my ass. Even my own family. I am so uncomfortable in my body. I hate being touched or desired. I hate being looked at.
The worst part is how consumed by it I am. How vain I feel. How ugly I feel on the inside. No one will love me for my outside and the inside is just as unsightly. Sometimes I feel so completely and utterly disgusting. I have such a hard time making friends because I feel so deeply and painfully poorly about myself. I don’t discuss it with others. Few to no people know how deep my self hatred goes. But I wanted to be beautiful so so bad. Not ‘ you’re so beautiful to me’. I wanted to just be ‘you’re beautiful’. The kind of beautiful that someone would stop to tell me in the bathroom or my social awkwardness got to be cute instead of off putting. The kind where I didn’t have to know how my extended family talks about me behind my back. I want to cry pretty. I want someone to be gobsmacked by me. But it’s not a reality. I’m never going to get to be like psyche or Helena or Eurydice. And I wish it was over. I’m so tired of being consumed by this. So so so tired.

True Name: Sakamoto Ryouma
Class: Lancer
Source: Historical fact
Region: Japan
Gender: Male
Alignment: True Neutral
Height: 178 cm
Weight: 72 kg
Character Creator: Keikenchi
Character Design: pako
Character Voice: Kase Yasuyuki & Horie Yui
Appearance in Main Works: Fate/Grand Order

Strength: B	Endurance: C	Agility: B+
Magic: C	Luck: A-	Noble Phantasm: EX

Class Skills

Magic Resistance: C+
When Super Oryou gets serious, Oryou's hide prove quite the magical barrier, Ryouma!
Riding: EX
A special Riding Skill given to Ryouma for crossing the Bakumatsu period Japan riding the dragon that is the changing eras. It's a Skill exclusive for riding Oryou, existing separately from other Riding variants.

Personal Skills

Dragon of the Restoration: A
The man called a mystical dragon in a human body. His fleeting life briming of pride, crossing the Bakumatsu period Japan riding the dragon that is the changing eras solely for the sake of the people, was like a soaring dragon.
White Serpent of Takachiho: A-
The serpent who failed to become a dragon. The serpent, initially a black abomination held in contempt, aimed for the heavens in attempt to become a dragon, but ultimately, the serpent couldn't manage it.
Amanosakahoko (Pair): B
The pike of light fallen handle-first from heaven. The spear of the heavenly gods, which sewn together heaven and earth to seal the black abomination. Originally a single polearm, but taking the form of pair when weilded by the hero and the serpent.
The pike of light fallen handle-first from heaven is both a blessing and a curse.

Noble Phantasm

Ryuu yo, Wadatsumi no Hara wo Yuke (My dear, venture through the vast oceans)

Rank: EX	Type: Anti-Army Noble Phantasm
Range: 2-70	Max. Targets: 700 persons

By offering the Amanosakahoko that Ryouma pointed at the heavens, the black serpent sheds her skin and grows wings, becoming a white serpent of such beauty that she could be mistaken for a divine dragon.
Clad in radiant-white arcanity from the Age of Gods, the White Serpent of Takachiho exerts tremendous power. This form possesses physical abilities beyond comprehension and can deploy a sturdy physical barrier, preventing any mediocre attack from hurting her, potentially making her the god of the new era.
Instead of becoming a dragon and soaring the skies, she chose to be the serpent travelling the sea with the hero.
Pronouns (Ryouma)

• First person: Boku/washi (in Tosa Dialect Mode)
• Second person: Kimi/oman (in Tosa Dialect Mode)
• Third person: Kare/kanojo
• Master: Master

Pronouns (Oryou-san)

• First person: Oryou-san
• Second person: Omae/name without honorifics
• Third person: Koitsu/are
• Master: Ningen/omae

Personality

Pretty much the same as a Rider. Oryou hasn't changed either.

Motives and attitude toward the Master

He wishes for his relationship with his Master to be like that between two friends from the same town. Oryou is relatively fond of them and doesn't mind helping out every now and then.

Dialogue examples

• Ryouma: "Let's get washing them all away, then." Oryou: "I'll scrub them hard."
• Oryou: "Yaaay. Oryou-san turbo peace."
• Ryouma: "Oh? Time for the Kaientai to go all out?" Oryou: "Right... Ryuu yo, Wadatsumi no Hara wo Yuke"
• Oryou: "Done. Time for Oryou's victory peace. You do it too, Ryouma." Ryouma: "L-like this?" Ryouma & Oryou: "Yaaay!"
• Oryou: "I am the White Serpent of Takachiho. For thy offerings, some frogs would be welcomed." Ryouma: "Hahaha, you can't keep a solemn face either, Oryou."
• Oryou: "Fine, I can let Izou ride the tip of my tail." Ryouma: "Make sure not to drop him."
• Oryou: "Now that you're a Lancer with no divinity, we can kick that Archer's butt. Good job, Ryouma. We're having frogs for dinner tonight." Ryouma: "I wish it were that easy."

Historical character and figure

A loyalist living through Japan's Bakumatsu. Born from a country samurai family in Tosa, he deserted his fief, studied under Katsu Kaishu, founded the Kameyama Shachuu (which would later become the Kaientai), intermediated the Satsuma-Choushuu Alliance, and devoted himself to the restoration of imperial rule, overall contributing a lot to the Meiji Restoration. However, his ideals fell to assailant's blade, thus he never got to see the age of Meiji.

Character in Fate/Grand Order

An aloof man on his mid-20s appearance-wise. He may be a master of the Hokushin Ittouryuu, but he’s actually a kindhearted guy who dislikes conflict to his very core. Instead, the mysterious belle by his side will take the lead.
His default Class is Rider, but circumstances lead to this manifestation of him as a Lancer.
This form, in possessing of the Amanosakahoko and one of the Three Knight Classes of the Holy Grail War, is a what-if possibility that Sakamoto Ryouma could have attained, and a Servant powerful enough to uphold the reputation of Hero of the Restoration.
If Sakamoto Ryouma is summoned as Heroic Spirit, he's restricted to only getting either the polearm or the serpent as a Noble Phantasm. That goes to show how much of miracle it is that he is capable of using both.
He is a master of the Hokushin Ittouryuu and his swordsmanship is a force to be reckoned with, but the course he practiced was for the naginata, so the Lancer class is where he can best put his prowess to work. In addition, Super Oryou is bursting with power. Together, they're an invincible Kaientai.

Regular weapons

• Ryouma: Amanosakahoko (because he snapped it in two, he has the ability to split it into two spears). Super Ryouma Gun (can switch into Sniper Mode). "And dontcha forget mah Mutsu-no-Kami Yoshiyuki¹".
• Oryou: Hyper Power-Up Oryou Martial Arts and easily spammable beams of something unknown.

Related characters

Okada Izou
His best friend in their town. He wanted to stay best friends but their relationship never recovered from their split. After an incident where he got punched, they managed to return to their nostalgic ways.
Takechi Hanpeita
Former fellows who split off due to ideological differences. Takechi holds Ryouma in such regard that he believes Ryouma's presence would have spared the Tosa Imperialist Party from its failures. After an incident where they got punched, they managed to return to their previous ways.
Tanaka Shinbei
Takechi's right-hand man. In life, Shinbei kept Ryouma away from Takechi. He was probably annoyed at the faith Takechi had in Ryouma.
Nakaoka Shintarou
"It wounds me to disagree with Nakaoka in a discussion. Nonetheless, if I can't discuss with him, there is no one else worth discussing with."²
While Ryouma was frequently suspected, he was trusted by everyone. He and Ryouma compensated for what the other lacked.
Takasugi Shinsaku
They share mutual respect, with Ryouma acknowledging Takasugi as The Unicorn Prodigy and Takasugi acknowledging Ryouma as the Dragon Soaring the Skies. They also envy each other, believing one has what the other lacks.
Voyager
Ryouma can't hide his excitement about a rocket that can fly to space. Oryou gets competitive and begins an irregular training regime to fly to space.

Comments from the illustrator

Have a nice triiiiiiiip!!! Feels great to see those two having fun. I can hope they don't break any property or any debt-ridden alcoholic anywhere they go, but I know that's not a realistic expectation. (pako)

Translation notes

1. Sakamoto Ryouma's favorite katana. The same he uses in his Rider version.
2. Historical quote from the real Sakamoto Ryouma.

Chapter 1
“Huff, huff”
Zhong Lin inhaled the heavy gray mist surrounding him, sizzling his already sore lungs. The rancid, musty air did little to soften his scowl aimed at the colossal slab of gravestone. The waning blue moon above casted eerie shadows on the ground, seemingly mocking his desperation.
A reckless punch born out of rage landed on the hard granite. But the carvings of incomprehensible beings responded with little other than broken nerves and muscles.
“HAHAHAHHAHA”
With a loud laugh of self-derision, he roughly fell on the cold, cobbled floor. The chest injury he had forgotten about flared up with the fall. He stared at the blood that flowed from his chest, akin to a river slithering down a mountain, dyeing the floor crimson.
He moved his right hand towards his chest, holding down on the wound. Physical pain was still more bearable than the heart. He had been long used to the pain. Both of heart and body.
“All that for nothing.”
A dispirited mutter left his parched lips as blood and sweat melded together. Divine sense showed his nascent soul in a similar state to his body. As the Qi and Blood competed to leave him, a strong dizziness assaulted his senses, spinning even the azure moon above.
He pulled out a jar with only one red pill left inside.
*Crunch*
Brisk chewing gave life to the hollow, misty temple of death as he gnawed on his final pill. He knew it was futile. When the slab showed no response, he already had a hunch that all his efforts were for naught. Yet, if living a mere moment would increase his non-existent odds, he would seize that moment with everything. He lost too much to stop here.
“You were wrong, father. Trying is never enough.”
Reminiscing about his lives, he couldn’t help but wonder how everything had gone so awry. When he transmigrated to this world, he thought he could redo everything.
A second, no, his first, proper chance at life.
And he had to admit, he had gotten lucky. A loving family. A shed above his head. A heart full of warmth. Brought by the simple act of his mother brushing his hair. By stern reprimands of his father as his sister laughed from behind. But that gave away to the question, had he been a bit too lucky?
“I am sorry, Rin. Your big brother is a coward.”
They say that your life flashes past your eyes before you meet your end. He could not confirm it in his last life, perhaps because he did not have a life worth remembering, but now he could see it clearly.
A scene that frequented him in his nightmares.
It was midnight when the mournful shrieks broke him out of dreams. He sat up to muffled screams, fizzling out, one after another. Even the unending darkness of night was eclipsed by an emerald hue, bleeding into his room from the small crevices of the windows.
From an interstice he watched the man in black robe. With a glowing blade, the dark figure painted the snow in crimson. He saw his father among them, kneeling. A warning in his eyes met his own. And he raced like hell itself chased him, away from the nauseating scent of blood.
And quickly hid inside the house, going away from his room. As fear grasped his soul, the realization hit, his sister was still sleeping, unaware of the carnage outside. Before he could reach out, a footstep froze him, burning him with a primal fear. Only a small, sleepy “Big brother?” reached him, before his heartbeats taking over once again.
But fear whispered at him, to not breathe, to not move, to not go. And he caved in to it, paralyzed, until the screams stopped and the morning sun shone. Only then did he go out, finding her there, lying peacefully.
Only, a bit of perplexity in her azure eyes, which had long lost all semblance of life. Her eyes would continue to stare at him, every night.
Like they did right now as his vision blurred.
“I am sorry, Rin. It should have been me.”
He croaked. There is no pill for regret. Like a gut punch it hit. Often, he wondered why he had been left alive. Before, he thought it was due to him hiding well, but only later did he know that he was spared. After all, there was nowhere to hide from a divine sense.
Sound sleep became a thing of luxury from then on as nightmares took over. Thus, a ten-year-old made revenge his life goal.
But it did not take him long to realize that smarts could not overpower those with the strength to break mountains. Hence, he ran after power, meticulously scheming. Ten years a valet of nobles. Hundreds a slave to immortals. Thousands of years of cultivation. Only to find an answer to one question.
Why was he spared on the night of snowfall?
But efforts matter less where talent is venerated. What took him years took the man of his nightmares a day to accomplish. And by the time Zhong Lin reached nascent soul, his figure of vengeance had long surpassed him by an impossible margin. And he despaired, for as long as he remembered.
Until Requiem landed on his hand, that is. A book of a God long forgotten. A different path to power, beyond what immortals could ever hope to accomplish. And he did whatever the book told him. For that was his only hope.
He found the missing pieces, assembled them, piece by piece. Hiding, running, stealing, slaughtering. Funnily enough. all his efforts only led to him creating his own burial. Perhaps it was karma. Slowly, He felt impending death crawling on his skin as the smell of blood got thicker and thicker.
Faintly, a sound of footsteps could be heard from afar. The firm noise of boots steadily made its way, like death. Inevitable.
Zhong mustered all his remaining strength to stand up, amplifying the dizziness. He had a faint idea of what approached him.
He who led him to the pit of hell.
A black silhouette wearing a gray overcoat slowly emerged from the haze of mist, holding a yellow lantern in his hand. Yet, all the light avoided his visage, scattering before reaching the inky blackness.
“To be honest, I never imagined that you would actually manage to find it yourself.” Zhong Lin’s face crumbled as he listened to the deep, gruff voice mocking him, but he had little to return to the derision reaching his ears. “I must thank you for saving me the trouble.”
Zhong Lin numbly gazed at the figure that went beyond his understanding. A being made of the vast cosmos. Hands made of stars, a face that resembled eternal darkness.
“Sorry. Kid. There was never any inheritance.” Zhong Lin listened to the voice that sounded like a death sentence. In his journey, he had considered many times a question, What if he does not get the inheritance? But he never considered that there was no inheritance to begin with. But all the despair only left as the haze cleared, and a profound numbness filled all that was hollow in his heart.
“Kid” A soft voice reached the ears of the listless Zhong Lin. He watched the inky black around the cosmic figure leave as he brought the lantern up. But more than that familiar voice and face, what brought him more despair is the one single line. “Do you remember the night of snowfall?”
No. It could not have been that early!
His face scrunched up, forming an expression of madness again, his knuckles cracking as they turned white. “Old hermit.” He whispered. He finally connected all the dots. It was not just after he got Requiem. For his entire life, he was but a simple pawn. Chess piece right from the very start of his journey. A mantis unaware of the oriole behind.
No wonder. The only reason why he managed to survive the impossible odds so far was because a higher being was aiding him. He attributed the random burst of luck and lucky encounters to destiny, thinking the world itself wanted him to succeed. How foolish of him when fate has done nothing but mock him.
He stared at the peaceful face of an old hermit; someone he had known for ages. His benefactor, a lifesaver many times,. “Kid, don’t misunderstand. It was never personal.”
“Why?” A quivering voice escaped Zhong Lin’s lips as all of his expression left his face, leaving numbness occupying it once again.
“Why was I spared?” He stared at the being that seemed eternal by now once again, with a black face, hands like the cosmos holding onto a lantern.
Old hermit laughed at the question. “Would you believe me if I said everything was merely a coincidence?”
Zhong Lin watched the burning golden eyes on his eternal black visage peek at his soul. Unfeeling, cold, relishing in his nightmare, refusing to fulfill even his final wish.
And he decided, right there.
The runic seals around his soul unchained as he quickly compressed the Qi on the bead, something he had been keeping inside his soul for a long while. The thunder and fire souls mixed together, creating a mad frenzy of Qi inside him. Soon, all seven souls were burning madly, before destroying themselves within seconds, like an avalanche of Qi.
*BOOOOOOMMMMMM*
The nascent soul destruction created a feint as he propelled the bead forward, to the middle of the gravestone, to the piece he had forged himself. He watched with his dimming divine sense as the bead slowly made its way with a bit of hope, to destroy one of the stones, to stop whatever his plan was.
But right before the bead could reach it. Hermit waved his hand, stopping all the chaotic movement of Qi and soul. Zhong Lin’s final bit of hope died out as he reached his eternal end.
“Almost succeeded. But you were too desperate.” The hermit laughed as he watched the desperate Zhong Lin’s final attempt. Walking towards the frozen bead, he stared at the brewing Qi that would have certainly taken down the entire temple if it hit. .
“And even if you damaged it, it would have only brought me a mild inconvenience.” He ran his fingers on the gravestone, muttering softly. A laughter of elation resounded in the empty hall as he brought out a key from his overcoat. As soon as the key reached the stone, a small hole opened up, like it was made for it. With a clink, the rectangular slab of granite transformed, into a small, unassuming olden black book.
A single ancient word was written on the black cover.
Requiem
“Right? Requiem.”
He stared at the bloody mess caused by the splattered organs and blood on the stone walls. Although he protected himself and Requiem, he shared not that feeling about the old temple of death. He gazed at the detonated Qi that intermixed with the soul energy, all seven souls had been unchained and intermixed.
“Did not even leave yourself a path out for reincarnation. But, kid, you may have chosen well.”
A sigh escaped his lips as he walked off into the dark maws of the door. As he left the temple, it broke down, piece by piece. The large pillars slowly slid underground like it were submerging in water, along with the rest of the temple, disappearing like it never existed, taking with it Zhong Lin's remains. From now on, the old temple of death will have never existed, alongside Zhong Lin.
Or that’s what was supposed to happen.
But an anomalous corruption in time and space was brewing,

First Previous Wiki
Penny gazed at the quartet of Elders. They were all wearing the merchandise she remembered from the last Judgment, which was exceedingly awkward. Mainly because they were wearing shirts with her face on them. But it was also oddly endearing, in a way. Until now, she hadn't seen too many Elders that were on her side.
Elders that weren't just Kashaunta or the familiar faces she already knew, like Spentha or Rho and Sai, actually showing appreciation of her, felt odd. Even if these ones went a little too far in it.
"You're even more beautiful in person, Liberator," one said.
"Uh, thanks. I appreciate that. I'm glad that you all like me. Rho and Sai told me that you all are interested in something I can give you?"
"Yeah. Maybe a short interview? We won't be like that airhead reporter. We'll ask the good questions."
"Yep, we will."
"Right then," Penny said. "Well, I'm glad to meet you."
"Thank you. Now that we're here, we'd like to know how you plan on taking care of the gang leaders."
"Well, presumably by imprisoning them. I don't think they deserve to die, even if others do. I'll leave that decision up to Justicar and his various judges in the criminal system."
Penny didn't like having to lie blatantly. She wanted to kill the slavers quite brutally, but doing that was a bad idea right now. Saying it also was a bad idea, for a similar reason. And Justicar's system was worryingly preferential to Elders, from what she'd looked up after the meeting with Pundacrawla.
"Aren't you worried that the Judges won't give proper justice?"
"I trust Justicar to do everything that is necessary."
Another lie. Justicar would do whatever he could to maintain his image. Hopefully, that wouldn't be at the cost of the Alliance's very existence.
"Got it. By the way, what's it like being human? Walking on only two legs. It seems kind of unstable. Do you fall a lot?"
A genuine curiosity from them was another breath of fresh air. It was the kind of question a quadruped would definitely ask, which put her more at ease about the nature of what they were trying to do. Even more than their evident support of her, with all the merch they were wearing. Penny felt a smile crack at the corners of her lips, unbidden.
"Not really. We can use our arms to steady ourselves pretty well. Obviously it's not as easy to balance on our two legs as it is with your four, but it's still good enough. In fact, the sprinters in the Olympics use all four limbs, since running as fast as possible also requires pumping our arms. As for what it's like to be human, it's hard to describe. For many of us, it will feel colder or warmer than Sprilnav would feel in the same temperatures, due to thinner skin. Our eyesight is more frontal than yours, given our lack of snouts, so our blindspots are a lot bigger. Our feet require shoes for rough ground, and we heal slower than you by around 20%. We can't really clack our jaws to the scale that you can, though we can make them meet."
Penny bared her teeth, showing as she opened and closed her mouth. It was nice to be able to talk about things like this.
"The Olympics?" one of them asked.
"It's a competition about athletics," Penny said. "Running, jumping, throwing, diving, swimming, skiing, snowboarding, and a lot of sports. There's specific divisions, too. Like how there's a 100 meter dash, 200 meter dash, 400 meter dash, and even an 800 meter dash for those with high levels of psychic energy. Though really, psychic energy and genetic editing have been messing with the events for a while now. And there's a Winter, Summer, and Space Olympics, each with different sorts of events. They move from city to city, though the Space Olympics are pretty much always on either Luna, Ceres, or Mercury. There's a lot more information out there on various events, but it's an old cultural practice revered by the entire species. Even more so since Phoebe's increased the prize pools for everyone."
"How does your species handle space in general? I know that you guys did things way differently before First Contact."
"We did. Mining companies kept tight control on all asteroid mining, while nations controlled planets like Earth and Mars and large planetary bodies like Luna. Supposedly, a few people planned for a cloud city on Venus, but we couldn't risk having such a vulnerable population because they'd have to rely on giant balloons to survive. That would probably be the least secure way to live, given the existence of rogue organizations and all that.
As for spaceships, most of them since we really colonized Luna come equipped with spacesuit bays, zero gravity water and food packs, oxygen tanks, emergency seats, specialized anti-micrometeorite hulls, and radiation shielding. A lot of the older military ships also were equipped with big radiators until World War Three, when it all became masses of drone warfare, with the big ships kept mainly for cargo and lanes where mass drone control was impossible.
Once the Vinarii came and we got shields, we started building big again. After all, it provided a huge number of jobs, and in the post-war economies, especially with VIs in place, a lot of people needed work. But we still go and do asteroid and moon mining, star lifting, and energy gathering. We built an orbital ring around Mercury, the closest planet to Sol, to help with all of that. It doubles as a production hub, too. Now, it's all in more systems and with a lot more friends."
"Speaking of aliens, what theory does your people have on why so many creatures resemble one another? Our jaws are adapted for hard shelled creatures, and we're told that many planets have oddly similar variations of those."
"Crabs."
She guessed what they were getting at.
It is odd, isn't it? Nilnacrawla observed.
Perhaps that is another one of the Source's whims, Penny thought.
Maybe.
A few of the Elders made exclamations of shock.
"You even have a word for them that directly translates!"
Penny chuckled. "Yeah, carcinization is a bit of a meme in the science community. But I've heard the most mainstream theories since the First Contact are that the Source itself is uncreative. It has a certain template of creatures which it largely doesn't alter, though it can take in inputs from beings close to it, perhaps even influencing them."
"Influencing them?"
"Yes. Modern depictions of wendigoes, folkloric creatures from North America, a continent on Earth, are shockingly similar to the Knowers in appearance. The internet depictions of them in particular like to emphasize canine qualities, and often show them with skulls visible directly, and with dark brown or black fur. Recent depictions, as in the past 300 years, differ from their original appearances quite significantly, with the canine characteristics in particular being enhanced.
We have sorted through all known images of these creatures and found roughly 80% similarity with the Knowers and tens of thousands of images that are literally exactly the same as Knowers. The ones we searched all came before World War Three, far before even the First Contact with the Vinarii, much less the Knowers who were entirely underground at the time due to the radiation of their home star. We believe that the Source managed to influence this facet of human culture with the actual existence of a real creature.
Other examples exist, like how the Trikkec look very similar to Komodo Dragons, Vinarii look very similar to insects known as a mantis, and the Acuarfar look exactly like insects known as wasps with the single exception of their furry snouts and green instead of yellow markings. The Sprilnav species itself shares high amounts of similarity with a fictional species known as Elites in early 2000s culture, particularly with your jaws, though you all have red skin instead of grey or brown.
The Junyli, Dreedeen, and the wanderers are the main species without high amounts of appearance in our cultures at some point. This correlates with the idea of the Source being the influencer, as their predecessors all were used to fight it. Many species of the galaxy look like parts of our culture or Earth's creatures. The proximity of these examples makes this far more suspicious than if they were across the galaxy.
But since they existed first, the only answer must be that the Source brought the influence to us first and planted the ideas in our heads. As for the ones which look like Earth creatures, all of them are old enough evolutionary branches that copying from them to Earth makes more sense. Though the references centering around the early 2000s is quite odd, it is also roughly when the internet came into wide existence, so it is also possible the Source gave the ideas a push so they would propagate, for an unknown reason. Like if it seeded the ideas that propagated across the early global network Humanity used."
"Hmm. Fascinating. We've seen evidence of the 'seeding' process among some historical nations near the galactic region of Earth before. So the Source re-uses and alters depictions of life and also life itself?"
"Maybe," Penny said. "Unless the Source is more directly tied to life than we think. There's a conceptual Death, but no conceptual Life. Isn't that odd?"
"Conceptual Life died in the Source war."
How did that really work, though? Penny asked Nilnacrawla.
Imagine a conceptual being. A few of the Progenitors, as well as Narvravarana, went up to try to harvest its power. It refused, and Narvravarana used its unique abilities to try and force the deal.
Why was your civilization like this?
Excess and greed, partly. But we couldn't really do much more expansion. Vertical expansion also had its limits if we wanted to remain relevant for the remaining lifespan of the universe. So Narvravarana, along with a few of the greatest rulers and leaders of Sprilnav society, started looking to other dimensional planes. They figured it was best not to let the problem get too much worse. Or at least, that is what they say. I believe it was to harvest more resources to use against our surrounding enemies.
You didn't have any allies? Penny asked.
At that time, all the powers of the universe were enemies. All the allies eventually merged through millions of years of normalization. We happened to get on the universal stage the earliest, so other civilizations we encountered had little choice but to surrender their independence. Some fought, others didn't, but the outcome was the same.
That seems terrible.
It was, though the other universal civilizations were no better. Some of them just exterminated all alien life they found that couldn't fight back. In that sense, the pre-war Sprilnav civilization was one of the greatest, and that's why I fought for them. Obviously, I'm biased in that regard, though.
Thanks for telling me, father.
No problem, Penny.
She refocused back on the conversation at hand.
"But a thing cannot be alive if it dies. The concept of life doesn't work that way. So maybe the Source just... took in the concept of life? Or absorbed it into whatever psychic energy really is, considering that it's responsible for all of our existence?"
"That's so crazy it might actually be true," one of the Elders said. "You're incredible, Penny."
"Uh, thanks. You're all pretty great too." Her eyes drifted to the images of herself on their clothing. She couldn't really help it.
"I have a question for you."
"Yes?"
"Do you know what I'm fighting for?"
"I assume since you're asking it here, you don't just want a one word answer," an Elder said. "I would say yes, and for the liberation of the Sprilnav from the stain of slavery. Though going deeper into your history, you have also fought for other species, either in wars or just generally moving around. It does look aimless, mostly, since the galaxy's so big. But I'm sure you've got a way through that."
"In some way. Part of why I'm here isn't just about my people. It was at first, I admit that. But as I have lived here, on Justicar, for days and weeks, I've seen you less as alien. It makes it easier for sympathy and easier to break out of simple mindsets. So far, there are many problems, but there are distinct pieces. The first is that many people want to uphold slavery. I'm not sure why, but they do. It isn't profitable, and it isn't moral. Robots are cheaper in every way, and don't need food or water.
That means it's illogical or emotional. So I could try and solve the problem with violence alone, but it won't be addressing the cause, only the symptoms. I need to get to the heart of the matter. And I think it has to do with Elders' memories and the gradual woes they have accumulated going through life. I don't want to tear that away or drug them into believing they're fine. I want to find a way to outlet that productively. The second part I have identified is scale. The galaxy is enormous, and your species is incredibly numerous. I could fight planet by planet for the rest of my life, and liberation would still be difficult.
That also means I'd need a better way of doing things. Maybe an economic or political incentive. Emotional reasons will not work permanently, nor will logic, since we are in this situation. I have found several ways to address this. Sadly, since the gangs are likely monitoring this feed, I can't just outright say my strategy. All I can ask you all to do is to believe. Believe that I have a solution, and that I and those who stand with me are working on it. Believe in me because I believe in you."
None of the Elders questioned or ridiculed her words. Most of it was because they were fans of her. But one of them, an Elder named Rahautiti, had a distinct glint in his eye. Their gazes met only momentarily, but Penny could tell he knew.
And so she appeared in the mindscape, even as they concluded the interview, which would be the first of many. It was a ploy to just talk about human culture and ideals a bit more, to get it out there. Because the hivemind's theory was correct.
In the universe, ideas had power. That power could be weaponized against those who previously stood to gain. The first part of it was the image: Nova as an unbeatable bastion. Lecalicus as the Beast, a monster capable of star-crushing rage. Twilight as... whatever she did. Penny wasn't really familiar with the Progenitor's image too much, and the various names, like the Silent Night or the Smiling Darkness, were just so unbelievably edgy she cringed every time she recalled them.
But Rahautiti understood so she moved her mindscape avatar to see him.
"Hello again, Penny. I am no threat."
"I know. I'm glad that your group is led by someone as capable as you, as well as the other groups you dabble within."
"Who discovered it?"
"Phoebe. You met with Ezeonwha, and the android wanted to ensure you weren't a way for Yasihaut to kill him."
"Yeah. We did get approached about that, actually. We're supposed to kill Ezeonwha when you walk into the Judgment hall. Of course, we won't do this, and she won't be able to retaliate against us easily while there."
"Thank you for your honesty, Elder," Penny said. "It seems I'm in your debt."
"Nonsense. 2,839. That is the number of children I have had. 2,626. That is the number of children of mine which were enslaved. The remaining 213 died in unrelated incidents, with nearly half of those involving slavers killing them. I remember all of their names, and all of their faces, Penny. I want all the slavers in this universe dead."
"I cannot achieve that."
"You cannot," Rahautiti agreed. "Not with my help or even that of Kashaunta and Lecalicus. And certainly not right now. I have not lived this long to be incapable of compromise or patchwork solutions. You show great promise. I understand your aversion to killing and the circumstantial reason why you are not doing so now. I will not grow upset if you do not resume killing when the Judgment ends. Nor do I harbor a grudge against you for the speeding space entity you left outside the room to avoid uncomfortable publicity. You are incredibly young.
A sliver of a life. But you are strong, and you are mature. That sliver of your lifespan already outshines all I could do with a trillion more years, Penny. You are right in that this isn't something you can punch your way through. Trauma is part of why slavery still exists, despite it being a wholly unjust reason for the Elders to make such a sport of it. I am sure you know the story of the war, with a great hero in your head and Kashaunta at your side. My line of work is what I started to help you. Every thought about you being the Liberator, every eye that glances on you freeing slaves, helps you to gather conceptual energy. My talent happens to be great enough to sense the Pact of Blades you have, as well. If you want, I can teach you how to hide the mark on your soul and your mind."
"I would like that, yes," Penny said. "And thank you for being so reasonable. I will ask Kashaunta to protect you from what consequences come for refusing the offer on Ezeonwha."
"There are going to be attacks on him, you know. Him and your ship."
Penny felt an odd feeling in her soul. Cardi's power flared around him, and she squinted at the sky. She just barely saw a sliver of a tentacle. Most would have mistaken it for a normal speeding space entity. But here? On Justicar, with Exile obviously not being the cause?
Only one being would cause that. Fate.
Given the subject of their conversation, it was obvious what was going on.
Penny tapped Rahautiti's jaw, adding a thin mark of conceptual power so she could easily find him again. She focused on the conceptual mark she'd left on Ezeonwha. A twinge of conceptual energy came from it. It was accompanied by various impressions, like fear, pain, and acceptance.
"I have to go," Penny said. "I will be back later. Displace."
She appeared next to the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office but not next to Ezeonwha. It was carnage everywhere she looked.
"Champion!" an unknown Elder yelled. "I am Elder Na-"
Her rising fury surged, and it took all she had not to dismember him. The distant thought of the Judgment stayed her hands, though only just.
Penny's fist collided with the Elder's jaw at twice the speed of sound. A piece of his jaws flew free. Bone fragments hit the ground behind him. Hundreds of soldiers fired on her, and she slammed them to the ground with pure will. Penny tore their guns away and sent them each to pummel the Elder in front of her with as much brutality as she could. His powerful armor wasn't as capable of defense against physical attacks as it was against her psychic energy, and so he fell.
"You... cannot save him," the Elder spat. Fields of psychic suppression fell upon her, reducing her power.
"Manipulation through Determination," Penny growled. "De-"
No! Nilnacrawla said. Do not kill him! Not yet!
"What goes up will go down."
Air hardened around the Elder and accelerated rapidly.
The Elder smashed into the shield five miles above with a speed just slow enough that he wouldn't die. He fell from it and then hit it again at a more modest speed. He'd bounce on that until the Guides came to get him.
But Penny had another target. One she had to save instead of attack.
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High Judge Tassidonia awoke to the sound of explosions. He grabbed his swords, his main gun, and the personal shield he reserved for only the most dire occasions. The sky was erupting in war all around him, and buildings were already falling nearby. The spires of skyscrapers rained down upon the entrances to the Underground, crushing thousands of fleeing Sprilnav under their wide impacts.
His implant identified members of the gangs nearby, making their way to his home.
"Retribution Cycle!" Tassidonia cried. A hidden door opened, and he boarded a small hovercraft that sported a high amount of defensive and offensive technology, a gift from Justicar for dealing with all that he had related to the Judgment. Only this time, he wouldn't be on the next one. But already, the destruction was spreading.
Micro-missiles rained upon friend and foe alike. Several detonated against the layered shields. The mounted turrets on the side of his hoverbike shot lasers into the enemies his implant identified.
"Elder Tassidonia!" an Elder cried nearby. "For the crime of defying the will of-"
Tassidonia called his fury to bear. He rammed his mind into the enemy Elder, disorienting her. She reeled, about to attack, when a thick laser smashed into her chest. It pushed her against the wall, and Tassidonia kept the pressure up until her body melted. He listened to her screams impassively, occasionally sending blasts from his gun at the gangs when their members started to stray too close.
The thick red beam did its work within twenty pulses. His swords began to float beside him, keeping pace as he sped away from his home. The entire apartment complex shuddered and began to lean, its foundation being destroyed by some effect below. Tassidonia abandoned it with only minor regret. He'd known this moment would come. Everything he needed was already with him.
He linked into the Guide network, directing squadrons to attack the breaches he'd identified. Orbital strikes fell upon them in quick succession. Thick beams of light pierced through the lower planetary shields from orbital platforms, their guns honing in on Justicar's enemies. Tassidonia's implant was linked to the grid as well. So when he eyed buildings occupied with too many gang members, orbital strikes fell on them a few pulses later.
Fire and plasma rained all around him. Explosions and smoke blossomed all around him. More missiles fell from his hovercraft. A fighter ship appeared beside him, its simple stealth revealing itself to his eyes. Tassidonia waited for the pilot chamber to open, and his craft stowed itself behind him when he got in. It was fully equipped, so soon, Tassidonia was in full control of a weapon of war.
His first order of business was detecting the gangs' most fortified areas. He peppered those bases in shield-weakening mines, followed by bunker-buster missiles. Several anti-air turrets hit him, but his shields prevented them from taking him down. He dropped three high-end Butcher Androids into the fray of the largest battles.
One of the adjacent fighter wings in the separate shield sector dropped a nuke. At that moment, Tassidonia made a decision.
Whatever insanity was going on right now wasn't worth staying here on his own. He turned his ship upward, narrowly avoiding nearly fifty missiles shot from another gang fortress, which was really just the lower floors of a supermarket. Thick slabs of concrete were being set up by androids and slaves from the Underground. All he could do was watch from above and attempt to mark those that might be a problem.
Justicar's Grand Fleet was moving in, though only the carriers and their escorts were doing anything of any scale. The armies were mobilizing, and it seemed that war had finally broken out. Justicar, while isolated due to the Judgment, would have to win a war that threatened to topple his rule entirely.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Ezeonwha woke when the walls around him shuddered.
An earthquake?
Groggily, he activated the lights in the room. Phoebe's android was charging in the wall. Her limbs swayed with the motion. The walls shuddered again, and the lights went out. Thin, tiny cracks spread in the walls, increasing his worry factors massively. His implant notified him that this wasn't a dream. Distant screams reached his ears, and he went to the window.
Hordes of Sprilnav were running on the ground, tripping over each other to escape. He heard the thump of footsteps approaching from outside. The android activated, standing up.
"Move away from the doo-"
An explosion tossed him across the room. A Sprilnav carrying some sort of mouth weapon faded into view for a moment, smoke recalibrating the stealth field. And then he was gone. Phoebe smashed into the Sprilnav, her fists pummeling the assassin faster than Ezeonwha could comprehend.
Phoebe's arms turned into swords, and she stabbed the Sprilnav at least fifty times in a single pulse. She turned to grab him, but before she reached him, a second explosion sent him flying out of the now-shattered window.
The massive skyscraper loomed large, and he saw the ground beneath it ripple. Dull thumps sounded from below, and large, circular caverns opened beneath the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office. The whole building started to list forward, and Ezeonwha frantically activated his emergency personal shield as he started falling faster and faster. A bullet hit the shield. And then a second one. Gunshots echoed out in the distance, and he saw other Sprilnav falling from broken windows in the falling skyscraper. Gunfire erupted on the streets as Guides engaged a growing army of attackers bubbling up from basements of shops and businesses.
He saw spurts of blood exit the Sprilnav nearest him, bullets tearing holes through the woman's body. Piercing screams surrounded him, a terrible chorus that reminded him of the worst wars he'd fought in. But here, his training could do nothing. She was already dead, and he knew that he was the target of this whole attack. His eyes watered, and Ezeonwha felt so powerless. So useless.
A Corrector emerged from the side of the tilting skyscraper, eyes fixed on Ezeonwha. Then he looked down. Somehow, Ezeonwha knew when the orders had been sent. He knew that it was Astipra in the distance, a jetpack on his shoulders burning a thick flame beneath him.
Astipra looked back at the building and flew toward it. Ezeonwha felt the wind rushing past the shield as pressure. Astipra, far above, vaporized falling chunks of the skyscraper with blasts from his arm cannons. He pressed back against the skyscraper, the jetpack going into overdrive. The metal bent inward, and the groaning and twisting structure continued its fall. Blasts of light from Astipra again vaporized the set of falling chunks.
"Penny," he said. It was almost a prayer, really. His desperate mind was scrambling for whatever it could get. "Please, save me!"
He didn't know if she could hear him. Logically, it was impossible. And in a battle such as this, unlikely as well. Rippling explosions erupted across the facade of the falling skyscraper as rockets struck it. More explosions bloomed as lasers from distant police vehicles, Guides, and Astipra destroyed more of the fast-flying missiles and rockets. They pounded on the world around him, a horde of madness threatening to break his brain. He could feel the wind and gravity equalize as he reached terminal velocity.
And all he could see was the world descending into war around him. The 102nd Visitor Welcome Office continued to slump and lean against Astipra's best efforts. More bullets hit Ezeonwha's personal shield, and peppered the Guides moving over to save him. Air ambulances were shot from the sky. Even small fighter crafts were shot down by powerful ground lasers. EMPs thumped, disabling all the higher functions of his implant before he could think to use it.
A much larger explosion bloomed out, and Ezeonwha followed the rocket's trail to an Elder on the ground, standing in the wreckage surrounding a sudden tunnel opening. The Elder stared at him in glee, and he lined up another shot. Two Guides fell upon the Elder, who flew up using a jetpack to cut them in half with his sword. A hard light hologram lifted a large gun, pointing at Ezeonwha as he fell.
His eyes widened. Ezeonwha did everything he could. He angled his legs and arms. He pushed at the air. He even hefted the meager psychic energy he had, struggling with all his soul to escape the death he could feel was coming to him.
Guides swarmed beyond the shield appearing, while gang soldiers died by the hundreds to carpet bombing. Personal shields sprang up to block the explosions, and the Elder had survived. A thick red laser cut one of the fighters in half from the smoke. Above him, the collapsing facade of the skyscraper consumed Astipra entirely, though large gouts of plasma and thick explosions emerged from within. He could survive if it fell upon him, but Ezonwha could not.
Penny materialized far below, closer to the field of battle. A sweeping wave of gang members began disappearing. A bullet smashed into her head and her stomach, detonating in bright explosions. A personal shield flared and disappeared. Missiles and lasers slammed into Penny by the thousands as psychic energy gathered. A constant roll of words fell from her tongue, but without his implant, they were not translated.
Missiles crumbled into dust. Lasers impacted raw space in front of Penny before bending down and back to their origins, destroying automated turrets. Bullets still hit Penny and the Guides by the thousands, firing too quickly and densely for her to entirely block. But the large ordnance from the gangs continued to work against them.
Penny looked around, confusion evident on her face. But amidst the thousands of wounded and dead Sprilnav falling from the broken windows, Ezeonwha was hidden too well.
Shattering glass could be constantly heard, and he could feel the distant screams in his soul. A bullet smashed into his personal shield again, disabling it. A pulse later, he lost feeling in his legs.
He tried to reach out to her mind, but the war in the mindscape was equally intense. Too many Elders and Guides battling it out along with various suppression artifacts made it all impossible. He could sense Penny's influence, but couldn't directly reach her.
He let out a breath, knowing it to be the final one.
I'm sorry, Penny, Ezeonwha thought.
I wish you luck in the Judgment, and I am sorry I caused this to happen to you.
Penny finally appeared in front of him, eyes wide-
Blood erupted. A searing pain in his head told him his implant had just shorted out. And in the mindscape, he saw a mental attack heading for him, its brutal power evident. He closed his eyes.

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Memory Transcript: Kinet, Venlil Surveyor Captain [Standardized Human Time July 5th, 2114]:
We had arrived in-system [four days] ago, and while I was expecting to see a world ravaged by nuclear exchange, the damage to the planet was beyond what I could have ever imagined. The surface was scorched, and the air filled with ash and soot from massive continent spanning fires that must have been burning for cycles. Despite all the destruction, our scans showed some signs of life trying to take hold on the surface, but not nearly as much as there should have been.
The humans had wiped themselves out over [150 years ] in the past; it shouldn’t look like it only happened only a herd of claws ago.
Fiir was of no use. When the first glimpses of the planet came in on the viewscreen, the scruffy researcher just stared with his jaw hanging loose before stammering about something being wrong. He stormed off to his quarters, and I haven’t seen him since then.
I sighed and walked onto the bridge with my waking claw cup of tea but was immediately assaulted by the chittering of an excited sivkit, our primary communications officer.
“Captain, captain, captain!”
“Hephy, yes, I’m right here. What is it?” I looked down towards her. She barely came up to my waist in her typical quadrupedal stance, and even doing her best to stand up, she wouldn’t be able to look me in the eye. Despite her stature, her excitement demanded attention as her eyes flicked between myself and whatever data she had scrolling across her display visor.
“Right Right. Anyway, Captain, I have to show you something, it’s big.” Most people don’t pay sivkits much mind, but Hephy was a prodigy. The excitable woman could look at a waterfall plot and pick out every signal present, and even read some of them without any computer assistance. I motioned for her to follow me to the ready room and started off toward it while sipping my tea. She trotted behind me on all fours, as sivkits are wont to do, and when I sat in my chair, she hopped side to side in excitement. “The signals, when we arrived from the jump, I saw something fascinating!” “Hephy, stop bouncing and sit.” I gestured to the chair in front of my desk. She looked at me for a moment as if I had grown a set of ears at the end of my snout. After a moment, her trance broke, and she hopped into the chair. She sat on her haunches and pulled out her tablet.
“Ok so, when we jumped in, we got a ping of the area, right? Send a signal out, listen for the reply, and we see what’s out there that our eyes can’t. Standard stuff, sure, but look.” She tapped at her tablet and expanded a multidimensional spectrum plot. “The bright spots are reports, and it’s all around. Debris right? That’s what I thought but look closer!” I leaned in and looked at the impressionistic splotches of color shown on the holographic display. The blues, yellows, and oranges spattered amongst the dark gray and black of night and other known objects was appealing to the eye, but ultimately gave me little idea what Hephy was trying to communicate with me. She must have picked up on my lack of insight, because she sighed and tapped the display again. “Normally, you see the pulse pattern return and that’s pretty distinct, but this is different. Odd. I thought it was just micro-debris but if you spread it out over time there’s a pattern to it, a structure in the phase relationships that doesn’t match reflections or our interrogation pulses.” “Hephy, you know I rarely ever understand you at this level.” “Right sorry right. Captain, this isn’t the return pulse, they’re data transmissions. Multiple data transmissions all at once.”
My ears perked up, and I tilted my head to the side a bit. “How can you be sure? What would even be out there to send them?”
“I wasn’t sure myself until I looked later on in the data buffers. Almost a claw later there was another longer burst. The automated systems ignored it due to interpreting it as just more micro-debris, but it had that structure-but-not-structure, perfectly shaped noise. I also had nav and sensors run another few active pings at different frequencies, trying to rule out silly patterns seeking brain nonsense. Nothing returned. The debris cloud doesn’t exist!”
“So what does this mean for us?”
“I don’t know, but it's fascinating! They must be satellites of some kind, either too small to reflect much or made to absorb radio waves.”
“That’s worrisome. There’s only one reason you’d build something like that.”
“Weaponry?” She chirped with surprising insight I had not expected to come from her. She had never been in the space force like I, and many others, had.
“Defense platforms, yes.” I took a sip of my rapidly cooling tea to try and soothe the anxious pit growing in my stomach.
“That’s…concerning.” Her excitement waned for a moment but quickly slipped back.
“Very, thank you for bringing this to my attention, Hephy.”
“As if I could keep quiet about something like this!” She snorted with a chittering laugh. “Oh! Wait there’s one more thing. There was another signal in a higher band that sounded off around the same time as the other burst, this time from a different orbit, way further out. I traced it to an artificial satellite.”
Suddenly, a thought hit me. These things were actively communicating with something. Was there something still left on the surface?
“Hephy, do you know where those signals were going?”
“Normally the antenna is too directional for anyone but the recipient to see it or it’s hard to get a read on directionality, but I know where everything is communicating to. The middle of the smaller main ocean.”
“Hephy, that’s an incredibly important bit of information!”
“It is? Oh yeah right, that makes sense!” She wiggles her tail in an amused flicking motion.
I stood up and patted her on the shoulder. “Get us close to that artificial satellite and see what it is. I’d like to get a better idea of what we’ve just stumbled into. Report back when you have some answers and we will go from there.”
Hephy bobbed her ears and hopped off the seat. “On it, sir. Where are you going?” “I’m going to talk to Fiir. This is beyond the original mission, and he needs to know.” “Ay captain. Good luck. Guy’s a weirdo.” I simply grunted and strolled down to the auxiliary quarters where I knew the researcher to be.
>Advance record: [10 Minutes]:
Fiir had brought an entire team of researchers with him. I was told they’re all colleagues of his from the research academy that are interested in this personal project of his. This many people on board with his project did explain how he was able to offer the exorbitant sum of credits to hire me and my crew. They had been allocated a section of the ship near the front, just past the shuttle bay and under the bridge area. This let them have their privacy and set up whatever gear they brought with them.
It also meant that there was a door between them and the rest of the ship. A door that they did not hesitate to keep closed after pre-launch inspections had concluded. The researchers didn’t have anything I didn’t expect from the manifest, but I still found it rather suspicious. Were they hiding something? Perhaps it had to do with that odd power hungry computer they insisted upon. Mara had her ears tied in a knot trying to accommodate it, and still they were coy about why exactly they needed it. It didn’t do me any good to speculate, though. What mattered most was the problem of the satellites.
I finally reached the door and, being the polite man I am, I scratched at the sounding plate before grabbing the handle and trying to open it. To my surprise, it didn’t budge. I could understand locking doors to the personal quarters, but this was a main corridor in my own ship! Just as I reached over to key in the unlock code, the door made a thunk as the latch disengaged and slid open part of the way. A familiar gray fringed brown muzzle stuck out from the gap. “This is a restrict- Oh. Captain.” Fiir opened the door a little more and stood up facing me. “What is it?”
I blinked at his rather blunt question. “I just came to inform you that we’ve discovered some worrying details about the nature of the-” “The artificial satellites are not of any concern to us.” He cut me off before I could finish.
“We think they might be-”
He glanced back behind the door for a moment, his tail thrashed in agitation. “It doesn’t matter. Have you prepared the landing party yet?” My jaw tightened as my frustration with his rudeness grew. I couldn’t get much of a word in, but I needed any answers. “They’re set to depart in two claws, but with those unknown satellites, I can’t be sure of their safety! I saw you on the bridge when we arrived, you were expecting something different. As the captain of this ship, I need to know if there’s a threat to-”
“Captain.” Fiir’s gaze grew intense as he leaned in. I may have had almost a head of height on the wizened farsul, but in that moment, he felt as if he was towering over me. “I suggest you stick to the responsibilities I hired you for, Captain Kinet. There are things that you are not privy to, nor will you be made privy to in the foreseeable future. Continue with the survey as per our agreement, and you’ll get your credits. Do not bother me until the away team is en route. Good paw, Captain.” He closed and locked the door without even waiting for my response.
I just stood at the door for a long while, a feeling of anger and indignation boiling in my chest. I had only ever had cordial contact with the researcher up until now; this abrupt shift in his demeanor was unsettling, to say the least. How dare he talk down to me like that on my own ship! I sighed and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out. Slow and controlled. Letting the tension and anger flow out with my breath.
Inhale. Hold. Release.
Inhale. Hold. Release.
After a few cycles, the burning anger was reduced to a smoldering cinder. As much as I had wanted to headbutt Fiir, it wasn’t worth risking the contract for. I turned and walked back to the bridge to prepare for the away mission. Without Fiir’s info, I needed to make sure contingencies were in place for any possible threat to the away team. The lives of my crew are paramount, even if the contract was very, very lucrative. All that aside, the planning would keep my mind away from thoughts of my rude client.
>Advance record: [Standardized Human Time July 6th, 2114]:
I woke up after my rest paw feeling groggy and unrested. The confrontation with Fiir kept playing in my mind all night, despite the claws of planning for the away mission. To say his standoffish behavior left knots in my wool would be an understatement. I wiped my snout with my paws, flicking the crust from my eyes before getting up out of bed.
I grabbed my favorite mug and fixed myself my morning cup of tea. Pulling the dried leaves and stems from the canister, I could feel my mouth water in anticipation. I had been told by many who possessed the strange appendage called a nose that the tea leaves had a strong earthy and floral scent. I often wondered what that meant. Venlil didn’t have noses, but we did have a sense of taste, which is apparently quite similar. I often wondered what it might be like to smell. Do we really miss out on so much without being able to smell?
We had to soak our foods and tea in water before we could taste it with our tongues, and even then, it’s not nearly as sensitive, which is probably why other species consider venlil cuisine to be overseasoned and overpowering.
Another reason why the stereotype of venlil being weak is nonsense, in my opinion. How strong can you be if you can’t handle a little spice?
The timer went off, chirping to tell me my tea was ready. I sifted out the leaves and brought the invigorating elixir to my lips. The hot fluid warmed me to my core and burned away the waking lyasi silk from my groggy mind.
I needed to catch up with Hephy and Mara; they should have brought in that satellite-
My thoughts were interrupted by the chiming of my pad. I picked it up and answered the call to see Hephy’s face almost filling the screen, with Mara looking over her shoulder.
“Oh good you’re awake! Captain, you must see this! It’s amazing! The satellite, it’s full of brains!”
END TRANSCRIPTION
Been a hot minute, I hadn't forgotten about this. As always, comments are coveted and appreciated. What do you all think about Fiir's behavior? What do y'all think of Hephy?
Thanks to for creating this setting and fostering such a delightfully passionate community! Thanks again to , Novalux, and the Foxmates for editing and helping me get this done!
Soma belongs to Frictional Games.

Exfiltration

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
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Mik
“Papa Juliet calling Mike Whiskey. I’m in. Guy says she’s in room one-zero-three-eight, do you copy?”
“I copy one zero three eight,” Mik replied quietly. She looked up at the room numbers and noted that she was at least on the correct floor. “Going there now, over.”
It was a good thing that even evil corporate secret facilities had their safety procedures. As she jogged along the corridor in what she thought was the right direction, she spotted an evacuation map of the facility, complete with room numbers. Studying the plan for a moment, she traced out a path, memorised it, then took off running.
Although people fresh from Earth often complained how hard it was to maintain a good running speed on Mars due to lack of traction, Mik had no such problems indoors. The floors weren’t the best for cornering on, but she saw no issue in running halfway up the wall to kick off in the direction she wanted to go. Her enhanced vestibular systems aided considerably in keeping her balance, no matter where her feet were placed at the time.
Now that she knew where she was going, she reached the corridor that she needed in less than a minute. But then she encountered something that wasn’t a barrier as such, but certainly caused her to think twice about what was going on.
At first glance, there was little to worry about. What she’d found was an airlock of a make and model ubiquitous to half the buildings on Mars. Given that the outside atmosphere of Mars could only be survived by one person currently on the surface of the planet, the presence of an airlock would normally have been easy to explain away as an essential safety precaution.
What gave Mik pause was the fact that the airlock was inside the building, and in fact was between her and the person she was here to rescue. This made her ask herself a very specific question:
Which side of this airlock is expected to be depressurised, and why?
There was only one logical answer, and it did nothing for her peace of mind. If she was reading the signs correctly, the person behind Dani’s abduction and subsequent imprisonment was willing to set up a lethal situation for their captive, as a last-ditch screw-you to Mik. They probably wouldn’t kill her immediately, but if Mik tried to get her out, it would go from zero to fatal in very little time indeed. And in fact, if the airlock was code-locked on the other side, it would also serve to lock Mik into the area, allowing Cyberon to simply walk in and scoop her up at their leisure.
If I keep going, I’ll be trapped and she dies no matter what. Cyberon security’s probably on the way, so Pete might not be able to get us both out in time. If we pull back, they might decide she’s no use as bait, and kill her anyway. Bad end, do not want.
Okay, so I’ve seen the trap. How do I turn it around?
*****
Dani
The cell was cold, the floor hard to sleep on, and the ration bars they’d been feeding her tasted like salted sawdust, but that wasn’t the worst part. Dani had been uncomfortable before; some of the places her father had worked had lacked many civilised creature comforts. But she’d had friendly company and she’d been able to keep track of what was going on in the larger world.
Here, she had neither.
She wasn’t sure if it was deliberate torture or just a total lack of caring about her wellbeing, but the lighting outside the Perspex panel that fronted her cell never varied. Neither dim nor overbright, it was just constant. They’d taken her watch at the same time as they’d sequestered the rest of her belongings and shoved her into an anonymous coverall, so she had no way of keeping track of time, except by way of her biological rhythms and the delivery of the food rations (which in itself was worryingly irregular, like they kept forgetting that she needed to eat).
Even the Suit, as she called him (she didn’t have a name for him, but she had a huge number of highly unflattering descriptors for him) hadn’t shown up in some time. At first, she’d been able to mark off the days in her mind by his visits, either gloating over how Mik was going to walk straight into his trap or attempting to interrogate her about Mik’s habits and potential actions. She’d done her best to give him no joy either way, which in hindsight was possibly a mistake, as he didn’t visit at all these days.
All she got was a guy walking past the cell every few hours and glancing in to make sure she hadn’t miraculously dismantled the lock and spirited herself out of the building. They didn’t talk to her, even when she called out and tried to open lines of communication. She knew they could hear her, but their faces just closed off and they walked on.
It had been days, maybe weeks, she was sure of that much. A month, even two? She couldn’t be sure. A couple of times she dreamed she’d been rescued, that the wall of the cell had just opened up and she’d walked out; the emotional crashes, when she woke and discovered the reality of the situation, had been devastating. Pretty soon, she figured, she’d be hallucinating even when she was awake, and it just wouldn’t matter anymore.
So, when she saw Mik herself step into view in front of the cell, wearing her usual t-shirt and jeans and heavy boots, along with a badass-looking long-coat, she didn’t even react at first. Either it was someone else and her eyes were playing tricks on her, or she was asleep and dreaming the whole thing, or her mind had finally cracked. Didn’t matter; Mik wasn’t there.
She waited for the apparition of her friend to morph into one of the guards or to evaporate altogether, or maybe rip the door off its runners, but none of that happened. Instead, Mik examined the lock and frowned. Then she pulled out a notebook and pencil—pens had a really hard time working in vacuum, so Mik always went old-school when it came to passing notes—and scribbled something.
Dani had never been able to read a damn thing in a dream. The words and letters always came jumbled up, probably because reading was a logical thing and dreams were by their nature illogical. So, she was fully prepared for whatever the note showed to be pure gibberish.
Instead, to her surprise, it was totally readable. NO AIR OUT HERE. NEED U TO PREP FOR DECOMPRESS, CLOSE EYES. WILL OPEN DOOR, GET U OUT. DO U TRUST ME?
She read it through several times, trying to make sense of it. Mik was still standing there, waiting, though she’d glanced from side to side a couple of times. The writing on the notepad was holding steady, not changing to something else.
Is this real? Is this actually happening?
Tears sprang to her eyes as she first began to allow herself to consider the concept. She tried to keep herself under control; every other time she’d believed she was getting out, her expectations had been cruelly dashed. But she could read the note. She could read the note.
Climbing painfully to her feet—there was little chance for exercise in the cell, and the nutrient bars didn’t leave her with much in the way of excess energy—she went over to the Perspex panel that served as a door. “Are you real?” she asked, putting her hand on the panel. “Are you really there?”
Mik nodded, then flipped a page and scribbled some more. IM REAL. IM GETTING U OUT OF THERE. DO U TRUST ME? Then she tore the page from the pad and dropped it.
Instead of fluttering lazily to the ground—under Martian gravity, it always took even longer than it did on Earth—it fell straight down, at the standard three point seven one metres per second per second.
Okay, that’s not something a hallucination would bring up. There’s only Martian air pressure out there. She’d had dreams of walking unprotected on the surface of Mars. The human brain couldn’t create the consequences of low air pressure out of whole cloth. That was a leap of logic that it couldn’t make.
Dani took a deep breath and nodded. “I trust you,” she said, aware that Mik was practised at reading lips. “I just don’t know how long I can go without air.” Attempting to hold one’s breath in vacuum or near-vacuum, she knew, was a recipe for ruptured lungs. “Should I hyperventilate?”
Instead of writing more notes, Mik made the hand gesture for ‘no time’, then pointed at her first note. Dani nodded, then stepped back. Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth, working her jaw to allow her ear canals to connect to her sinus cavities.
She heard it when the door began to open, the thin high screech of escaping air, deepening to a rumble as the air pressure dropped. Her ears popped, then popped again as she kept working her jaw. Air flowed out of her lungs, then an involuntary belch joined it.
Her skin prickled and her eyes were uncomfortable behind her tightly closed eyelids, but she didn’t dare open them. Micro-pressure did nasty things to exposed eyeballs; they didn’t pop (that was something even the stupidest of space dramas didn’t do anymore), but the sheen of tears on the exterior surface had been known to freeze or evaporate, neither of which was good for the eye.
Pressure was building unpleasantly in her gut, and she did her best to relax her sphincters. Another burp was followed by a small frrrt, and she silently blessed the fact that the nutrient bars were designed for vacuum workers, who didn’t want to share their EVA suits with abdominal gases.
And then a mouthpiece was pressed over her face, and air flowed into her lungs. Reaching up, she grabbed the pony bottle, amazed that she’d actually forgotten how Mik carried it everywhere. Once she had it, Mik let go and grabbed her arm, urging her forward.
Under the guidance of her friend, she stumbled out of the cell then turned left. They moved as fast as she was able, though she had to keep her eyes closed. How Mik had even gotten there, and what the plan was to get her out, she wasn’t sure, but she trusted Mik implicitly.
They went down the length of one corridor and then another one, much farther than she would’ve been able to go with her eyes closed and no air. Alone, she would’ve stumbled aimlessly until she died. Then they entered what she figured was an airlock, the supposition borne out when a door closed behind them and the air pressure started rising again.
When she felt it was safe, she opened her eyes and handed the pony bottle back to Mik. “Th-thanks,” she rasped, her voice rusty from disuse. “You came back. I didn’t know if you would.”
“It’s been a month, let me tell you,” Mik said lightly. “I had to get reinforcements, but here I am.”
Something clanked at floor level, and Dani looked down to see that Mik had just knocked over a bucket. “Okay,” she asked. “What’s a bucket doing in an airlock?”
“Holding the inner door open so nobody can remotely shut it behind me,” Mik explained. The other airlock door opened, and she stepped out. “C’mon, we’ve got places to be.”
Dani followed along. Her joints still felt creaky and stiff, but she was damned if she was going to slow Mik down now. “Where’d you go for reinforcements? Tharsis? Wouldn’t they just send stern memos to Cyberon or something?”
“Yeah, that’s why I didn’t go to them.” As Mik and Dani turned a corner, Dani saw two of the guards on the ground, along with a third one in an EVA suit, and a fourth person in an EVA suit standing over them with a metal bar in his hand. “Hey, we’re ready to suit up and go.”
The standing man flipped up his faceplate. “Good. The suit’s just outside. I’ll keep watching these clowns while you go get it.”
“On it.” Mik tipped Dani a wink, then ducked out through the airlock. A moment later, she was back, bringing a suit in Dani’s size.
“I was wondering how you were going to get me out of here.” Dani didn’t waste time, starting to haul on the suit even as she addressed Mik. She didn’t know the guy, but if Mik trusted him, she was willing to as well.
“It was either this or terraform the whole planet so you could just walk out normally, and terraforming was taking too long.” Mik eyed the guards unfavourably. “How badly were these assholes treating you?”
“They didn’t hit me or anything,” Dani said. “Just fed me and watched me. It was their boss who said all the nasty stuff about how you were gonna fall in his trap.”
“Mm.” Mik looked like she didn’t want to drop the matter, but the guy put his hand on her shoulder and she subsided. “Okay, then. Ready to go?”
“Nearly.” Dani locked her helmet in place, then triggered the oxygen flow. The telltales showed up green, so she nodded and gave the thumb-to-forefinger all-good gesture.
The guy with Mik flipped down his faceplate, and all three of them stepped into the airlock. It was a tight squeeze but Mik was skinny, and Dani didn’t take up much room even in a suit. “We’re going to have to move fast,” the guy said over her radio. “I have a feeling Cyberon security is incoming with everything they’ve got.”
“Yeah, no crap.” That was definitely Mik. “Just by the way: Pete, meet Dani; Dani, meet Pete.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Pete added. “Lieutenant Pete Janssen, Orbital Rescue, at your service.”
Even while Dani was trying to figure out what an Orbital Rescue pilot was doing on the surface of Mars, the airlock opened and they hustled out. The surrounding terrain was the very opposite of flat, and Dani had no idea which way to go. And then Mik’s eyes opened wide and she turned her head, looking up into the sky.
“Lander,” she said. “I can hear it coming in.”
Dani had very little experience with matters like this, but she had an idea what was coming next anyway. “They’ll be bringing in ground troops, won’t they? Looking for us?”
“Got it in one.” Mik started off into the rocks. “We have to get to the ’hopper before they catch up with us.”
“Copy that, princess.” Pete hooked one arm under Dani’s. “Let’s get moving.”
Dani had thought the nightmare was over but as she discovered, it was just beginning. Even with Pete and Mik helping her up and over the obstacles in their way, she quickly ran out of energy. Fear-generated adrenaline was well and good, but it had its limits, and her arms and legs were soon powerless noodles.
“Leave me,” she begged. “They’ll catch you, and this’ll all be for nothing.”
“And if we leave you, it’ll also be for nothing,” Mik told her grimly. “I had to do it once. It’s not happening a second time.”
“Take her,” Pete said. “I’ll go and draw them off. Even if they catch me—”
Mik cut him off. “If they can’t use you to get us back, they’ll kill you. You take her, you’re stronger than me. If they’ve got guns, which I’m pretty sure they do, they’re less likely to shoot at me than you. I’ll meet you at the ’hopper.”
Not giving Pete the option to argue, she let go Dani’s arm and vanished into the chaotic terrain.
“Wait—” began Pete, then swore. “Dammit! Okay fine, she’s not giving us a choice. Let’s get you to the ’hopper.”
As they moved off, Dani had to ask the question. “Why did you call her princess, earlier?”
“Well, she’d just told us her story, and I made a joke …”
*****
Mik
The security troopers were good at moving in EVA suits, and they definitely had guns. There were also a lot of them, which was going to make this tricky as hell. Still, Mik had a few advantages on her side, some of which they hopefully didn’t know about.
She peered around a rocky outcrop at a bunch of them, who were conferring over some kind of digital map. If they wanted to use that thing to make any kind of straight path through this labyrinth of Martian terrain, they had to be dreaming. The trouble was, if they just pushed forward en masse, they could comb every last hiding place, no matter how tricky she was. Which was why she had to pull them away from the ‘logical thinking’ mindset and into the ‘chase me’ mindset.
Picking up a friable-looking rock, she stepped into view, then hurled her missile directly at the faceplate of one of the troopers facing her. It burst on impact, leaving a cloud of dust behind. Before they could bring their guns to bear, she ducked out of sight again, heading down a twisting, turning alleyway of rock. Her natural agility and balance made up for the uneven footing, allowing her to move much faster than the troopers behind her.
The call would be going out now, converging every security trooper in the area on that spot. This included any of them that might’ve been on course to discover the rille where she and Pete had hidden the rock-hopper. If they were chasing her, they weren’t going after anyone else.
She paused after a minute or so of movement, listening hard and with her hands on the rocks on either side. Sound didn’t travel well in this atmosphere, though her ears were attuned to pick up what little there was. Vibrations through the ground were sometimes more useful, and she fancied she could feel the security troops coming her way, just as much as she could hear the scuffing and stumbling among the chaotically tumbled boulders.
The next time she nailed someone in the faceplate with a rock, one of the troopers shot at her. It didn’t come close enough to worry her, though the whole experience of being shot at in general was a new and unpleasant one. She got her target, though, dusting the man plus his comrades with the ever-present fines. The fewer of her pursuers who could see properly, the better.
And then Pete’s voice crackled in her mastoid earpiece. “We’re at the ’hopper. Want a pickup?”
“No, don’t,” she replied, talking quietly into the mouthpiece even though she knew the troopers couldn’t hear her. “They’ll shoot you out of the sky. Hold tight, I’m coming to you.”
A dozen troopers looked around in surprise as she jumped out of concealment almost within arm’s reach. She was holding two large rocks that she’d selected carefully, each one with the consistency of chalk. Both left her hands even before her feet hit the ground; not aimed at the troopers, they instead hit the rocks on either side. A great cloud of fines billowed over all of the troopers, but she wasn’t waiting around for it to dissipate.
There was a nice straight pathway for her to retreat down, but she didn’t take it. Instead, she ducked into the first niche she found that was barely large enough to take her, and flipped up the hood of the long-coat so that it covered her head. Thus concealed, facing the rock and holding still, she hopefully looked like part of the landscape.
She both heard and felt the rush of booted feet behind her; yelling inside their helmets so loudly that she heard that too. Thirty seconds ticked by in her head, and there were no stragglers following along. Cautiously, she peered out from behind the coat. She was alone.
By now there would be enough troopers spread through the chaotic terrain for false sightings to be happening on the regular, and in fact she heard a few random shots here and there which bore out that idea. But that wasn’t her problem, so she slipped unseen through the dragnet until she came to the rille. Jumping from foothold to foothold, she descended to where Pete and Dani were just getting settled on the rock-hopper.
“Oh, good,” Pete said. “You’re here. I was starting to worry.”
“Can we go now?” asked Dani plaintively. “I just want to get out of here.”
“We can,” Mik confirmed, scrambling up onto the rock-hopper and strapping herself into the middle seat, which had been installed by the crusty McPherson. She flicked the wake-up switch on the flight control computer (also supplied by McPherson), then activated the controls and lit off the attitude rockets. Slowly, then with more power as she fed fuel to the main rocket, the rock-hopper climbed into the air.
“Straight back up to the ship?” asked Pete hopefully.
“Not quite,” Mik said. “They’ve almost certainly got ships up there that can shoot us down if they see us coming up out of their area of interest, so we’re going to have to stay low for the moment until we get out from under their umbrella. Our best chance for doing that is to leave their turf altogether.”
Angling the rock-hopper eastward, she applied more thrust, and they shot away across the tumbled landscape.
[First] [Previous] [Next]
[A/N: And we’re coming to a head. The next chapter or two should see the end of this run of the adventures of Mik Wallace, Martian Walker. That’s not to say it’ll be the end of the story, but it’ll be the end of the origin story.]

I've rented a small older 2 bedroom townhome for about 2 years now. I had some issues last summer that were similar with the property management, but in the last two months or so they've really skyrocketed. I work from home and use one of my bedrooms as an office space for myself; I work in healthcare and can't have others in my space while I'm working for obvious reasons. The rental company has been adamant about entering on a biweekly or less basis to perform random inspections of the property. About two months ago, I had to do my own photo documentation of every room, under sinks, cabinets, ect and submit that which was completely fine. This place has always has frequent inspections, but now it's really ramped up. They came in a week and a half ago to look at breaker boxes which took a few hours. I put a notice on my door that I'm working and not to disturb, and then when I had swamp cooler changeover I did the same but each visit does take hours. There's been other miscellaneous visits, and this morning I got notice of inspection again tomorrow with less than a 24 hr warning. They left a note that they need access to every room; I'm assuming it's in response to my signs not to disturb my office. Last year, there was a month where this had happened where there was constant visits and I finally complained and it stopped. Today, I called and they were not very understanding, they said I could continue to work while they took photos? I explained I couldn't do that at all and would need to call off suddenly. They also advised there was a 9 hour slot of time they could enter without warning and suggested I log off from work when they entered. Which is just not doable, I'm on calls with providers throughout my shift and can't hang up on somebody or let them in and have a privacy issue. At this point, I've already called in but I'm wondering if there's anything I can do about this or anybody has been in the same boat? I don't have anything to hide and other places I've lived have had inspections, but at most once a year. But the constant visits have interrupted my family visiting and my ability to work from home and I'm worried they'll continue. I really like living here and am trying to avoid fighting with the management or leaving.

Not finished yet but nearly done just need to know if it's decent.
Spider-Man VS The Punisher
A man walking his footsteps sounds like mini explosions as a row of computers with people typing on them. The man stops upon a window looking down to a glass cage with yellow electricity emerging from it.
“He's here, he's taking us all out. We need back up. Noooo.” The man looks at one of the scientists saying “wait for him to get here.” The man cleans up his suit and tightens his tie.
“Ohhh you're getting dressed up just for me. I shoulda brought flowers.” The man looks up where he sees a man in a red and blue webbed suit. “I should have killed you years ago. Well after today you will be.” “We both know that's not going to happen Willy. I'll arrest you and you'll escape, Rinse and repeat, it's always been like that.” The man grinds his teeth and grips his hands. “Unleash him.” the scientist looks at him and then at the computer pressing a button.
“Unleash him Fisk are you cheating on me with another hero.” as he says this a bolt of lightning strikes through the glass levitating in front of him. “You must be Spiderman. I'm electro, the man that's been tasked to kill you.” Spider-Man whispers to himself. “This guy's making my spider sense go crazy. I don't think this will go well.” he coughs then says. “Shouldn't you be at the circus.” Electro looks at Fisk and says “Leave Mister Fisk now.” Fisk and the scientists walk out into an elevator. “Don't disappoint me Max.” The elevator goes up with Spider-Man and Electro looking at each other “So electricity man are we gonna start.” He looks down to his hands where they start to glow brighter with electricity shooting out. BANG electricity shoots out his hand Spider-Man just dodging it. BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG Spider-Man narrowly dodges the bolts. He creates a continuous line of lightning towards Spider-Man. Cracking Peter tries to dodge it but fails on the ground Peter feels his muscles shut down. Electro walks over to him, shocking him again. “Ahhhhhhh.” He stops Spider-Man trying to crawl away BANG “AHHHHHH.” An alarm goes off as sprinklers also go off hitting Electro causing him to grunt.
Spider-Man using this crawls up a wall into a vent leaving the building Spider-Man takes off his mask feeling the rain hit his face. He hears Fisk talking to Electro below. “Is the job done.” “No, he escaped. The sprinklers set off burning my skin.” “You let him escape. I gave you one job and failed me." Electro looks at him sternly saying “Mister Fisk you gave me these powers and you want me to kill Peter I will. You know where he lives, I can go over there and kill him and his family.” “You will do no such thing. He will not try to kill us if we just go after him he won't understand.” Electro nods and walks away with an umbrella.
Spider-Man looks at his web shooters. “Great, they're gonna have to get the train. May's gonna kill me when I get back.”
Brooklyn, New York, 21:32
“PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T DO IT. I HAVE A FAMILY LOOK. PLEASE I'LL DO ANYTHING. WHAT DO YOU WANT MONEY, POWER.” A man shouts breaking down in fear of whoever is trying to kill him. “I want to know why you do it. Why commit crime when there's hundreds of heroes. I think I know why though. They won't kill, they won't just take the godam leap and end you scumbags. So I chose to do it myself.” The man says in a deep voice wrapping a cord around his neck. He picks him up, showing him a fifteen floor drop. “No, no, please don't do this.” He starts to cry as looks at him blankly, throwing off the building with him screaming for about three seconds till the man hears a snap. “Good Riddens.”
Queen's, New York, 9:29 pm
Walking into a house a teenager walks in “Peter where have y- My god what happened to you?” Peter looks at his aunt and says “Some people tried to rob me, it's alright May.” “Did they take anything? Did you call the police.?” “No and no May I'm fine May.” He looks at May. “I'll call the police.” “DON'T. I never saw what they really looked like, you'll just waste their time.” She looks at him saying “From now on you'll be back before it gets dark.” Peter nods “Now Peter time for your cake Happy Eighteenth Peter.” Peter looks at a cake with candles on it. He blows them out “Thanks May I'm just gonna go to my room I've had a ruff day.” May looks at him. “Are you sure you don't want some cake I've made? It's your favourite.” “I'll have some tomorrow really.” Peter walks up to his room turning on the TV playing the daily bugle. “Today Spider-Man failed to capture this so-called Lizard. I think he's just too lazy to put in any work. When the police lose a suspect their back on the streets trying to find him but Spider-Man swip swap swoops his way down and destroys peoples properties.” Peter looks at it in a rage “People would have died if i wasn't there yet I don't get thanked but hated. Why do I do this?” He looks at the picture next to his bed of him and uncle Ben. The time when he didn't worry if Aunt May would see him tomorrow. If she'll be targeted by villains. “Ben would call me stupid for doing something like this. Even more stupid I was responsible for his death. I couldn't just tell him where I was, I just had to storm out. He goes looking for me and ends up getting shot. I'm sorry Ben.”
Manhattan, New York, 06:34
“What will it be?” “Coffee, milk and two sugars.” She turns around and the man looks at his watch as he checks the time. “06:36 still have seven.” “It's ready. Have an amazing day.” he hands her a ten and leaves. He walks to an old burned building. Walking in he goes up five floors and goes towards a sniper pointing out a window. He takes a sip of his coffee checking his watch. “06:42 one minute.” A minute later a limousine drives up to a small building. A man dressed in a white and gold suit walks. “Gotcha.” BANG, a single bullet from the sniper shoots the man in the head obliterating the back of his head. He walks away with screams of people running and people shouting. “It's him, Punisher, he's here.” Pointing their pistols in the air looking where the shot came from.
Queen's, New York, 7:45 am
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BE-. Bang Peter hits his alarm destroying it. “Uhh, great way to start the day.” Peter goes to the bathroom brushing his teeth. He leaves the bathroom getting changed into his new clothes then goes to check on his web shooters. “Thank god for the science lab.” Checking his costume he sees it burnt and destroyed. He messages MJ to ask her to bring his spare costume she's working on. He gets his bag and web shooters going downstairs. “Hey Aunt May I'm off to school.” “Not so fast, I've got some cake for you to take.” Petter goes up to May and takes it. “Thanks May love ya bye.” Peter walks out to the school bus.
On the bus he sits next to his girlfriend Mary Jane. “My god Pete what happened to you. Also you suits in my bag.” Peter looks at her saying “New villain in town calls himself Electro.” “You've got to stop doing this Peter really you're going to kill yourself. How many villains do you have?” Peter looks down and says “Well Theirs the lizard, Shocker, Electro, Fisk, Otto Octavius and sin eater. Don't forget about the small time.” She looks at him saying “God why do I put up with you.” “Because I'm irresistible.” She smirks.
A couple hours later Peter only had two lessons left. Peter in the back of his English class looked at his web shooters making sure they still aren't broken and that he fixed them during science. Peter looks at his phone where he sees a notification from the daily bugle saying that sandman is robbing a bank. “Can I go to the bathroom?” Peter shouts. “Sure Mister Parker uh just take the pass.” Peter takes it and leaves. He goes to the janitor's closet putting on his Spidey suit and web shooters jumping out of the window. He looks at his phone while swinging. “Sometimes I wish I had a GPS in my suit instead of needing to use Oscorpe maps.” He swings wondering why sandman is robbing a bank. “He's stupid but not this stupid to rob a bank, especially during the day.” He swings across Queensboro into Manhattan.
When he arrives the swat team surrounds the area with Captain Stacey on standby. Spider-Man drops down in front of him. “Hey.” Looking up Captain Stacey talks to Spider-Man. “Spider-Man good thing you're here we need your help. Sandman has taken over the bank and he has three hostages.” Spider-Man looks at him saying. “Guess you can say things are getting out of sand.” “Sure just when you go in don't destroy much will you.” “I won't captain you know me, just get your officer's to sand back.” Spider-Man does finger guns at Captain Stacey swinging in. “Everyone shut up. I'm gonna pay it off with this score.” Spider-Man slowly swings down “It's ironic that you're named Flint. You know because flint and steel create fire and fire turns you into glass.” “WHAT.” Spider-Man sighs as he launches a kick towards him. He kicks him with Spider-Man going straight through him as this happens he webs his feet and pulls causing him to fall. He goes to punch sandman but punches him through the glass into a police car. CRASH, the police start firing at him but they do nothing. “SPIDER-MAN GET UP.” Captain Stacey shouts at spider-man. Spider-man jumps in slingshotting himself into sandman. He goes straight through him knocking sandman back as well. “Stop this Flint, think of all the good you've done.” He jumps onto the wall looking at a fire hydrant. “Like you've no that won't cut it. Ok you haven't done anything good but that doesn't mean I have to kick your ass again.” Sandman gets up. “You think you can kick my ass again. Not happening.” Spider-Man sighs. “Ok.” Spider-Man jumps down and grabs the fire hydrant and pulls. CRACK, the fire hydrant breaks splashing water all over sandman. “I told you Flint, I always win.” Flint starts to turn into a pile of wet sand. Spider-Man webs the hydrant to stop the water then walks over to Flint. Barely able to keep your normal form. “Screw you.” Spider-Man looks over at the captain. “He's all your captain enjoy.” Spider-Man jumps onto the side of a swat van. “Where do you go when you finish?” “School, besides I'm only missing one class.” Peter says this jumping and swinging away. “About ten minutes getting there. HEY I'M SWINGING HERE. Five minutes there and ten back is enough to miss english.”
Last lesson goes pretty boring for Peter. He's thinking about the lizard and how he escaped yesterday.
Bronx, New York, 15:45
“Nah he'll be here soon. The boss says after today's shipment the police are going to leave the Bronx alone.” An unknown man, clearly a gangster in a suit, is talking to another man in a suit. “Yeah, isn't he worried, though I mean what happened yesterday? You know Freddy.” One of them says “Nah, his new guy almost killed Spider-Man yesterday. He was talking about how he was crawling to escape only got away because of the sprinklers.”
BANG, BANG, The Punisher walks into a restaurant with seven men in suits in it. “HEY WHO LET THIS GUY IN.” The Punisher grabs his M4 and start to spray into a crowd killing three of them. Two of them pull out micro uzi's shooting at him. The Punisher grabs a grenade and throws it at the bar. BANG, The grenade goes and kills the two of them. The other two put their hands up and surrendered. Frank drops his AR. BANG, BANG, He shoots them with his pistol. He walks upstairs where five line a wall of AK's. The Punisher pulls out a stun grenade throwing it at them. BANG, they all drop their guns blind and staggering The Punisher walks in picking up one of their guns firing on them all. He walks to a door with the dead piled up next to it. He kicks it open to see a man in a suit. “I wondered how long it would take for you to find me, Frank. Now I have some you want and in return you'll let me go, unde-.” BANG, “No deal.” Frank starts to pack a duffel bag with money. Once he's done he lights the office on fire and leaves.
He walks to a van getting into the driver's seat. He drives for about thirty minutes to a small house. Walking in he puts the money in the pantree where about fifteen of the same bags are. He puts on the TV playing the news and works on making bullets. “Spider-Man today was responsible for the destruction of one bank. One I go to, when i wanted to go there today I realised I COULDN'T BECAUSE SPIDER-MAN HELPED SANDMAN DESTROY IT AND WHEN THE COPS SHOWED UP HE THREW HIM UNDER AND PRETENDED TO BE THE HERO. Now why do I have to pay for it? Why doesn't he? We know who Captain America is and he destroys a bank because he's civilised and not a maniac.” Frank looks at the TV turning it off and continues working.
Manhattan, New York, 4:21
“PARKER, PARKER, these photos are blurry I'll give you fifty.” Peter looks at him “Mister Jamerson I need a hundred and twenty.” “I need better pictures.” A man walks in “We need pictures Jonah.” He looks at Peter. “Ok one twenty.” He sighs a check giving it to Peter.
Peter leaves and goes to the woman working at the desk in front. “Hey Betty.” Peter gives Betty the check to Betty who gives him the money. “Thanks.” Peter leaves the daily bugle checking phone. He sees that he's missed a call from Captain Stacey. He calls him. “ you at the station up town.” “Ok but which one?” He runs into the alley next to the bugle changing into his costume swinging away. “So which one.” “You won't miss it kid really.” The call ends. “Ok, quite weird but he didn't even say why he needed me.” It takes him about thirty seconds to realise what he's about. In the distance he sees a giant ball of electricity. “Oh no.”
“Where is it?” CRACK, BANG, Electro kills three police officers. Captain Stacey tells all the police officer's to get into the building. “YOU CAN'T HIDE.” Spider-Man swings down checking the pulse of one of the dead police officers. “no. SURRENDER NOW.” Electro flies in front of him. “Or what. At least I'll get to kill you now. Peter.” Peter feels nervous looking around and Captain Stacey shouts for him to get in. “STAY INSIDE CAPTAIN.” The captain goes to one of his men. “Is it ready?” “yeah” Electro shoots electricity at spider-man. BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG. Spider-Man webs a man hole throwing it at him. Electro catches it, Spider-Man using this moment slingshots himself punching Electro multiple times. “I'M DONE PLAYING. YOU KILLED COPS I'M NOT GOING EASY.” Electro smirks at Peter creating an emp knocking Peter down. Electro drops to the ground, shocking him. “AHHHHHHH. BANG, AHHHHHHHH. BANG, AHHHHHHHH.” Electro walks up to Spider-Man who is crawling away. “Poor little Peter Parker. Once I'm done with you I'll deal with the ones you love. Rest in piece Peter Parker.” Electro charges his hands then. BANG.
Manhattan, New York, 16:23
Punisher loads his sniper talking to himself. “Really, they would kill me immediately. At least I'll kill this freak.” He toggles with the scope. “SURRENDER NOW.” “He won't do that kid” he waits for a clear shot. “YOU KILLED COPS I'M NOT GOING EASY.” he waits for his moment. Bang “AHHHHHHH.” Electros hands start to charge he lifts them. “bang.” BANG. A single bullet goes through the chest of Electro. Frank picks up his sniper and walks downstairs.
Walking down he sees Electro holding his chest on the ground and Spider-Man next to him barely alive. The Punisher walks up to Electro with a knife. “No please d-dont do this.” He gets close to Electro as tries to crawl away. The Punisher grabs him and turns him around. Fear in Electros eye's “Once I'm done with you I'll deal with your loved one's.” “No please.” The Punisher stabs him in the throat, killing him. “You know kid stay away from fisk for the next couple of days you understand. Deal with that giant lizard terrorising the city. Got me Parker.” Peter just looks as he starts to lose consciousness. “Good.” Gorge Stacey and his men leave the building telling The Punisher to surrender. He walks away as no one dares goes to arrest him. Gorge gets his men to help Peter.
Manhattan, New York, 7:32 pm
“You've got to take it easy kid. The doctors said you could have died.” Peter listens to Captain Stacey saying. “I know but with this guy out there, bloods gonna spill in the streets.” The Captain sighs. “So what are you going to do.” Peter coughs “I'm going to try and find the lizard first.” “Stay safe kid.” Peter jumps of the empire state building swinging through the city calling MJ to tell May he's staying at hers tonight.
Thirty minutes Later Peter hears on the police radio that a giant lizard is destroying Oscorpe. Swinging over he feels the stitches in him starting to rip.
When he arrives he sees a fire and a chunk of the side of the building gone. He swings in where fire and dead security guards are. “W-who is he?.” He hears a continuous clicking sound. “There aren't any alien space hunters down there, ha ha.” He laughs nervously. Suddenly a human sized lizard runs towards him trying to eat him. He dodges jumping on a wall “Hey I'm from the zoo, they said a lizard needed to be put down. That doesn't make sense. I don't kill. Hey no bitey.” He sees on the lab coat he's wearing it says Dr Connors. Still dodging “Connor's wait Curt Connors how did you. AHHH.” The Lizard scratches Spider-Man across the chest leaving a claw mark. Spider-Man looks up and sees him jumping to bite him. Spider-Man cartwheels backwards into a jump webbing his head and face planting him. “If you chill out I'll give you a box of insects to eat.” The Lizard gets up. “AHHHHHHHH.” Spider-Man looks at him. “Uh I don't know what to say to that. Raw maybe." As Spider-Man gets ready to attack, the Lizard's left arm starts to turn grey. It looks at it and runs away. Spider-Man swings after him through the streets of Manhattan “YOU MIGHT UGLY BUT I'M FINE WITH IT YOU DON'T HAVE TO RUN.” As he swings the lizard throws a hotdog stand at him. He webs it to a wall and keeps swinging. “SERIOUSLY A HOTDOG STAND IF YOU DON'T STOP I'LL TURN YOU INTO A LIZARD DOG. WELL I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY.” The lizard goes into an alley into a sewer. Spider-Man follows him slingshotting himself in shouting. “YEAAAAH.”
Inside of the sewers Peter looks around and sees only one way forwards. He crawls ol the walls seeIng the destruction Connor's did. “UH MISTER CONNOR'S, CURT, LIZARD, ANYONE. AM I JUST TALKING TO MYSELF, YES, why did I shout that.” He keeps crawling till he hears shouting. “PLEASE I DIDN'T HAVE CONTROL PLEASE DON'T DO THIS.”
Manhattan, Sewers, New York, 19:28
“Where is this freak? This vermin to society.” The Punisher walks through the sewers trying to find the rat killing innocent people. “HISSSS.” He hears a hiss and feels something watching him. “SHOW YOURSELF YOU FREAK OF NATURE.” A black figure crawls out from the shadow. “Tries to hurt me, hurt Edward. AHHHH.” He hisses and screams at him. He goes to attack him but The Punisher unloads bullets from his M4. Vermin shouts in pain “AHHHHHHHH.” Frank slowly followed him. “YOU CAN'T RUN VERMIN. I'LL KILL YOU MATTER WHAT. I'LL DO WHATEVER, YOU'RE COWARD THAT PREY ON THE WEAK.” “Vermin doesn't prey on the weak. I DON'T HAVE CONTROL, AHHHH. Vermin needs to eat, Edward needs to live.” he scurries away. After a minute of walking he arrived in a circular area where Vermin threw him in. “AHHHHH. Vermin will kill you now.” Frank picks his M4 up again, shooting him. He screams crawling up the wall. The Punisher pulls the trigger when vermin is above it and doesn't do anything. He checks the mag to see it's empty. Vermin drops down Scratching Frank across the face. He pulls out his pistol shooting him in the eye. “AHHHHHH, AHHHHH.” Frank goes up and shoots him on the head, killing him.
He hears a scream further down. Going down the tunnel he sees lab equipment and a lizard transforming into a person. “The Lizard, perfect timing.” Limping, he goes over to The Lizard waiting for him to transform. “AHHHHH, AHHHHHHHHH, HELP PLEASE, AHHHHHHH.” Frank just stands there till he transforms. He pulls his pistol out and points it at Connor's. “You're the lizard. What's your name? WHAT YOUR NAME?” “Connor's. Dr Curtis Connors.” Frank starts to pull the triggers. “PLEASE I DIDN'T HAVE CONTROL PLEASE DON'T DO THIS.”
Peter drops down in front of him webbing his pistol. “We don't kill people, understand.” The Punisher grits his teeth “Back off kid really.” “So you can kill him. Like you did Electro. You told me you were going against Fisk, why are you going for The Lizard.” The Punisher smirks at Peter, making nervous. “I wasn't here for him. It's just a coincidence.” Peter stands there wondering what's next. The Punisher runs towards him Peter jumps over him kicking him in the back. The Punisher hits his head knocking him to the ground Peter uses this to web him up.
“Ok we need to get outta here understand.” Connor's nods and starts to pack his stuff. “I won't kill you kid.” Peter looks at him. “Good because neither will I.” “I'm ready Spider-Man.” Curt says to Peter “Alright let's get outta here.” Peter swings Curt Connors out of the sewers
Manhattan, New York, 8:53 pm
“Ok you need a cure. Uhh, I've got it. I'll take you to the Baxter building. Reed can help you.” Connors thinks. “What if he finds me?” Peter sighs. “It's probably got more security than the raft and it's got four of the best heroes in the world in there.” Connors agrees and Peter swings him there.
When he gets there they walk in. Peter shouts. “REED YOU HERE. REED RICHARDS.” “Peter.” They turn around to see Sue. “Hey Miss Richard's I need your help.” She looks at Peter then at Connor's “What's wrong Peter are you in trouble.” Peter looks at her then Connors. “Not me. Have you ever heard of The Punisher?” She looks confused. “Uhh no why.” “He's trying to kill him. He needs a secure place to stay. And he needs a cure to stop him from turning into a lizard.” She looks. “What about you? Will he kill you?” He sighs “No he won't. He just wants to kill villains.” She looks at Connors saying “Reed is out but he'll be back soon he can make you a cure. Be safe Peter this stuff doesn't end well.” Connor's looks at Peter “Thanks Parker I would never expect you to be a superhero. Miss Richards, can you get my family?”
Peter leaves, going to the top of the Baxter building for some peace. “I'm too tired. I just want to go home but I need to find Fisk.” He checks the wound Connor's left. “I'm losing too much blood. My costume is destroyed and I helped the guy escape death. How am I going to explain this to May my wounds? I can't believe it. First day as an adult and I might not live to see the second. Uncle Ben must think I'm stupid.” He shakes his head. “I've got to go to Fisk tower and warn him.” Peter swings to Fisk tower.
Manhattan, New York, 9:01pm
Spider-Man arrives feeling light headed. He swings up to the office where Fisk and his men are sitting. He opens the door, his men immediately pointing their guns at him. “DROP YOU WEAPONS.” Fisk tells his men. Reluctantly they do Peter Limping towards him. “I need to warn you. A guy, a guy is uh is uh going to kill you.” His voice started to slur and he was barely able to keep his eyes open.” Fisk walks towards him. “You two get the medics now.” Peter falls unconscious.
Waking up Peter wonder's where he is looking around and he sees medical equipment. He gets up and walks through a pair of doors into a room full of men and Fisk working at a desk. “You're awake. You've been out for nine hours.” Peter realises that his face is exposed and Fisk notices this. “We all know who you are, Parker.” Peter walks up to him. “Why did you save me? You're goon tried to kill me yesterday.” Fisk calmly got up saying. “Yesterday you came to warn me. I knew why because of the Punisher. When you came here you were close to death. I saved you because. I need you to defeat the Punisher. I've asked every mercenary in this city and it's the same answer. No before Punisher was a myth but now after the men he's killed. The only one who can defeat him is you.” Peter looks at him. “Who's to say I'll stop him.” “Because yesterday you came here to warn me. The only one who wants me dead that can do anything is him.” Peter looks at him. “Where's my stuff.” Fisk clicks his Fingers and one of his men comes over to Peter giving him his phone, suit and web shooters. Putting them on Peter goes to the window telling Fisk. “Thanks Fisk. You really should leave the city.” Peter swings away.
Queen's New York, 6:09 pm
Peter swings through Queens arriving at his girlfriend's house. He goes to her window knocking on it. She wakes up opening it. When Peter enters he takes off his mask. “I can't do it anymore Peter last night you never showed up. I thought you were dead. This Electro almost killed you and the lizard. Peter I ju- AHH.” She screams seeing Peter's face covered in stitches. “I'm not that ugly.” Peter jokes but MJ says. “What happened yesterday.” Peter sits down “It's a long story.”
Manhattan, New York, Sewers, Time Unknown
“DOWN HERE, THERE'S A LAB.” Two police officers walk down the sewers seeing a lab. They both walk into Connor's lab looking around. “What the hey Chris, what is this place? Chris.” Click the police officer feels a gun to the back of his head. “I'm going to take your gun and handcuffs. And Chris is alright just incapacitated.” Frank takes the cop's gun and handcuffs him to a metal pole.
Leaving the sewers Frank feels the cold air on his face. Checking his watch he realises it is broken. He goes to his van and drives off to his house.
When he gets inside he goes to the kitchen checking the clock. “Wasn't down there for long.” He puts on the TV while he makes shotgun shells. “Breaking news this morning we have word that Spider-Man and the Lizard destroyed Oscorpe hours ago, fleeing in the sewers. They also found the cannibal serial killer known as Vermin dead. They say it's a man dressed in black wearing a white skull on his chest. Now I don't condone murder but I want to personally thank this heroe for dealing with someone Spider-Man probably thinks isn't worth his time.” Punisher looks at the TV and at his shotgun loading. “That's all for now J, Jonah, Jamerson signing off.”
Frank goes into his pantree grabbing a bag of cash. He looks in it seeing about hundred and fifty grand. He takes it to his van with him driving off.
Manhattan, New York, 04:41
Frank walks into a small café and enters. “Mister Castle, quite a busy night was it.” Frank walks up giving him the bag of money. “Do you have the thing?” the man clears his throat. “Yes, your coffee is ready. Hot, two sugars and no milk. That'll be one dollar fifty cents.” Frank looks at the bag and at the device he's buying. He picks it up and leaves. “Keep the change.”

~First~
Harriett The Spy AND HHH/Herbert’s Hundred Harem
They were comparing their stories about the weirder infiltration missions they’d gone on since they last spoke when there’s a knock on the door and it’s quickly opened before either can say anything.
“Sir? Ma’am? Update to the latest mess.” The Angla man says leaning in and holding out a folder. Harriett’s longer reach has her grab it.
“Good man, back to it soldier.” Herbert says as he hops off his chair. By the time the door is closed again he’s at Harriett’s side and standing on his tiptoes to read it over her elbow.
“Well... shit.” Harriett says as she sees the image of a gigantic slohb core with something clearly embedded in and infecting it. She reaches over to the flask and upends it to reveal the slightly larger than a pea piece of blood metal. A moment of compare and she curses again.
“Exactly what I was thinking. Where did she find it? Was it embedded deliberately? Some kind of experiment?” Herbert notes
“Hang on, let me turn the page.” Harriett tells him. “She found it and is reaching out to us because The Undaunted are one of the only powers she knows for a fact cannot be involved.”
“Alright, you just take a break. You got out of an infiltration like ten minutes ago. Have a snack. Relax, I need to prep a response to this.” Herbert says as he heads for the door. She follows.
“I’m no wilting flower. I know that Spire, have some infiltration experience there and friends as well. I can get you through the gang territories on the way down so we can help this poor woman.” Harriett says and Herbert nods.
“Alright then, you’re heading the mission. I’m going to scrape up all the support you need. So, what do you need?” Herbert asks.
“Several Doctors, at least one specializing in Xenobioology with at bare minimum a professional understanding of Slohb physiology. Several troopers that don’t mind cleaning and then standing guard. A transmutation Adept to re-purpose local materials for a sterile operating room to get that thing out of there and with sufficient skill to produce Null on demand finally a lack of interference from Centris authorities.” Harriett lists out and Herbert nods.
“Done, get started on your plan of movement. I’ll get it all ready.” Herbert promises her as they powerwalk through Intelligence and then Herbert dashes away as he calls to to people and barks orders. For the briefest of moments Harriett mentally compares him to a chihuahua but then realizes it falls short as this chihuahua can and will tear chunks out of things many many thousands of times it’s size. There’s a lot of bark yes, but the bite is exponentially worse.
She shakes herself out of the half second long reverie and gets moving again. She needs to draw up plans, review her notes for the area and plan a route all the way to the bottom of a spire, all the way down through nine levels where the gangs in power WILL be stopping the elevators to at least check the occupants and more than a few of them are stupid enough to stick a gun into the face of a soldier.
She normally doesn’t bother with the stupidity and madness of a bottom ten. Generally people that try hiding down there end up being shanked in the back alley by a bouncer after they tried to run out on the bill of whatever oiled up man-thong lounge they had spent half a fucking day in and racking up a bill large enough that Ticanped’s feathers would stand on end.
She had tracked a fucker down there five times in varying different disguises to find that exact scenario had played out. And that’s IF they survived long enough to get to the dickie bar. There was a different way of going around down there. Every square inch was basically gang territory by default, if you walk around like your shit doesn’t stink then you’re going to get it pushed in in the worst possible way.
•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•
There is a silence that stretches through the last conversation. Learning that the games she had played had been loosely based on actual wars had disquieted All Lady a little.
“Look the Wolfenstein games were massive exaggerations from the word go. You know how it is. Get enough time between a tragedy and someone looking to tell a story and you’re soon going to find something like a bunch of psychopaths who can’t fall asleep unless it’s to the screams of the innocent or some mad scientist with an obsession for switching body parts around.” Jurgen says and All Lady lets out a huff of air. “By the way how hard is that to learn?”
“How hard is what?” She asks.
“Well, that sigh. The air came out of your mouth... but you have no throat, no lungs. The part I’m addressing may as well be the tip of your finger or something. How long did it take to learn to mimic air respiration and air movement to that extent?”
“Oh that?” All Lady asks before laughing a little. “Simple enough when you know how to talk, and I was budded off my father knowing how to make those noises. Not what they meant, but that’s what’s childhood’s for.”
“I see, so... all Slohbs are born knowing how to manipulate their bodies, but now why they would want to?”
“Well, we’re born knowing how to keep ourselves alive and move, and smart enough to learn. However finer control is something that comes later. A newly budded little Slohb is adorable but can only make very vague shapes. Very rounded ones too. But there are grand masters of the art, shifters so skilled they can alter their colour and put in so much detail that you have to touch them to tell they’re a slohb, and of course there are even rarer girls who can change their external texture. You need high end scanners to tell they’re not what they say they are.” All Lady says before looking around at the cavern of blue slime that is her being. “Old dreams. Dead on the alter of reality.”
“Says who?” Jurgen asks.
“Common sense?”
“Well, good thing it’s not all that common now isn’t it?” He asks in return and she looks at him oddly. “After all, it’s common sense that a human over nine feet tall is suffering from terrible glandular disorders and lives a miserable life.”
She smirks after a bit.
“Oh do you now? Oh poor baby!” She teases him.
“Oh yes, poor poor oversized me! After all, one can only be larger than six feet tall if they’re sick in some way.” He says and she laughs a touch.
“Jurgen, let her know we’ve already put together a team to come help her. She’ll need to unblock the entrances if we’re going to help.” His Handler says and he pauses and thinks.
“Is something wrong?” All Lady asks.
“Well, you wanted to know if the Undaunted reputation is deserved right?” He asks and she nods. “Well they’ve already put together a team and they’re on their way. They request that you unblock the way in.”
“What kind of team?” She asks.
“Buddy, what kind of team?” Jurgen asks his handler.
“Three doctors, five troopers, two with medical training an Adept and an Agent.”
“Copy that. Miss All Lady we have three doctors, five troopers with two of them medics, an Adept and an Agent inbound.”
“An Agent?”
“Highly skilled, highly informed and often deployed in the field. Our Agents are stealth operatives mostly. If one’s deployed, then they’re likely trying to get the team to you with as little fuss as possible. So nothing wrong happens.”
“And they’re coming now? But I haven’t actually asked for any help!” She protests and he shrugs.
“You clearly need it. Not to mention I heard my handler curse under his breath when we saw whatever it is that’s in your core. No doubt it’s something concerning.”
“What was the first hint? That it embedded itself into me despite my merely examining it or that it’s caused me to bud thousands of times without ever successfully splitting?”
“Wait, that thing embedded itself into you?”
“I... I said too much.”
“Ma’am whatever that thing is, it has my handler so worried he’s not volunteering the information at the first opportunity. Normally getting him to shut up is the trick, right now though? Dead silence.”
“We can’t risk this information being intercepted.” His Handler states.
“And now he says it’s so dangerous he won’t risk it being intercepted. So whatever happened to you is understood well enough by my people that we’re basically scared of it and scrambling to do something about it right away. The more we know, the better we can help you.” Jurgen says and she stares at him before everything quivers.
“It... it was seven years ago.” She says. “I was just exploring the bottom ten. Being... well... being who I was then. I was basically slinging myself around along the ceiling. I can move in ways you solids can’t. Stretch out, grab some thing or suction up against it. Really easy, fast and fun. Then I bumped into something, something hidden. It seemed so harmless at first. A little dead drop place, whatever, take a look into it. If it’s bad report it to someone, but leave it alone otherwise.”
“It didn’t work like that though, did it?” Jurgen asks.
“No... it was... strange. It looked like a circuit board but made of the strange metal. A bit of my gel ended up on one of the circuits as I was putting it back and... it wouldn’t let go. Then it pulled and before I could sever that bit... it was in me and I fell. The impact knocked me out cold and I don’t know. It may have killed me. I woke up with two extra bumps, one of them badly damaged and with the metal inside.”
“... Do you think that...”
“That I might not be me?” She asks. “Sometimes. It was I...”
The gel starts to shift before moving in a smooth flow. “I am in control. I am the master of my fate. I am all. All is me. I am the lady that is all.”
“The All Lady.” Jurgen finishes for her and she nods.
“Yes. I... even now I am budding far too fast, and the bud is not going to break away. This is unnatural, wrong and vile. It needs to stop.” She says.
“Tell her help is on the way. They’re at level fifty and closing fast.”
“Help is coming, level fifty and closing the distance.” Jurgen promises.
“Okay, okay... this is faster than I expected. Or wanted, but it needs to happen it... what is this going to cost me?” She asks.
“Just uncover the entrances. I highly doubt anyone will want anything more. You’ve been through enough.” Jurgen says and after a moment he can hear things in the distance.
“Your teammates are reporting that the path out is clear now.” His Handler says.
“Alright then. Ready to go out and meet the doctors?” Jurgen asks reaching out his hand and after a short while a gel hand finds it’s way to his.
•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•
The elevator stops prematurely and is forced open from the other side.
“Well hello there now what are you little fish...” A snict woman begins to monologue as she forces the elevator door open and stops as she finds herself staring down a dozen high powered weapons. Harriett reaches a hand out and pushes her back and out of the way of the door before pressing the closed door button.
“We’re about to get another of those aren’t we ma’am?”
“Every fucking level down. The bottom ten of Xiona are a textbook no-man’s land and the reason for level one being off limits is who we’re out to help.”
“This job sometimes...” One of the Doctors notes.
“The hell did you expect?”
“Not an emergency surgery of an alien blob monster in the middle of gang territory.” The Doctor replies.
“Well jokes on you, you came from Earth to keep soldiers alive and study aliens. Well here’s an exotic alien metal, poisoning an alien woman. Let’s work with it.” Harriett states.
“I understand, I just don’t like it.” The Doctor replies.
“Why the hell were you placed on this team?”
“Because Doctor Gin here has point blank pulled of borderline miracles in the past. He just likes to complain.” Another Doctor says and Gin turns to give him the stink eye.
“Of course I’m complaining! Do you have any idea what can go wrong? I do! It’s horrifying! Not only is this a Slohb, a species with one of the most dense physical forms there are once you move past the falseness that is the gel they control. But not only that, this is a Slohb that has been poisoned by the item we’re extracting and may have created chemical or Axiom imbalances in her system that could kill her when the substance is removed! Going cold turkey on anything hurts for a reason people! To say nothing of the fact that the surgery chamber is going to be improvised and in the middle of potentially hostile territory and the patient is enormous to such a degree that she is potentially the biggest member of her species to ever exist! And in addition we are...”
“We get it.”
“Oh no, this last point is the most important. Because we are going to be operating under the effects of Null. Which while harmless to the vast, vast majority of this group, will still have effects on you Agent and on the Titan that the patient is bonding with. And that’s not even touching on the fact that Slohbs, which I remind you, is the species of the patient. That Slohbs have one of the fastest kill times in Null at three and a half minutes at absolute maximum! Meaning we have two hundred and ten seconds AT MOST to save this poor woman’s life without taking it ourselves! More likely we will only have a hundred and twenty to keep her in the safe zone, TWO MINUTES TO OPERATE!” He rants before huffing a bit and then slicking his hair back again. “So as you can imagine, I’m a little stressed.”
“Backing out?”
“Of course not. I don’t trust anyone else to do this right the first time. I’m just making sure you’re aware that no matter how easy I make this look that it is in fact, very very hard.” Doctor Gin says as he squares his shoulders and steels his expression. He along with everyone else then pull out their weapons as the elevator is stopped early again and this time there’s not even a monologue as the Horchka gang that opened the door simply raise their eyebrows, and then one reaches in to press the door closed button to send them on their way.
~First~ Last

Hi Reddit fam,
I need your judgment on a situation with my former roommate, J (33F). I (31F) lived with my previous roommate, A (30F), and her well-behaved cat for seven years. We shared a place for four years before moving to our current apartment, where we stayed for three more years. When A decided to move out, I invited J, a friend who had previously lived with me rent-free for two months, to move in because her current place was too expensive.
Here’s some backstory: When J lived with me rent-free, her cat often peed and pooped in my room, which I tolerated, thinking the cat was just adjusting. Eventually, J moved out, and we stayed friends. When A moved out, J moved in earlier than planned, so I nudged A to leave a bit sooner. J and I agreed to split the rent equally, even though I had a larger closet.
Problems started immediately. J’s cat peed everywhere, ruining my shoes, bathroom rugs, and other belongings. Despite my suggestions to check for health issues or get a new litter box, J did nothing for 11 months. Even then, the cat began scratching the window screens, causing significant damage that J refused to acknowledge, blaming A’s cat instead.
Aside from the cat issues, J was a terrible housemate. She never cleaned, left dirty dishes for days, went on vacations without cleaning up, and used my shower brush to clean up cat messes. When I'd mention something she'd say I was micromanaging. She also left items in shared spaces against our lease terms.
After nearly a year, J insisted I should pay more rent because of my larger closet, despite her cat causing so much damage. I suggested she pay a pet deposit to the landlord or we split the rent, but the landlord decided he didn’t want a pet at all, so we had to hide her cat. This caused tension, and she refused to split the rent as we originally agreed.
When I got a boyfriend, he visited a few times a week, but J complained, even though she had multiple guests over frequently. Including her best friend who stayed for free at the apartment for the last 2 months she was living there, which she never discussed with me. Eventually, she decided to break the lease early and move out. She rented a carpet cleaning machine to clean her carpet but chose not to replace the damaged screens (which were damaged months before she left) due to availability of the size. she used some quick-fix tape. She left heavy pet stains and a viscious candle wax spill on the carpet. The landlord took 90% of her deposit for the damage, and J blocked me on everything, leaving a nasty letter with personal attacks. I genuinley don't think it was my fault nor could I have seen that coming.
AITA for trying to set boundaries and protect my living space, even though it led to my former friend losing most of her deposit and our friendship ending?

As many other's I highly anticipated Homeworld 3 as the next entry of the Homeworld franchise, but the experience and gameplay leave me disappointed to a degree where I don't see myself playing this game long-term. The developers really need to take a step back and work on the core gameplay mechanics to deliver an entertaining experience, rather than delivering the DLC content to a soon to be dead game. In a sense the game did not innovate enough to fully realize it's potential and feels like a mod to the earlier games. I miss innovation and long term replay value. I do intend to give constructive feedback with the hopes of the game ending up better for it. A dream would be for the game to embark on a redemption arc and receive major reworking updates this year to be formed into something better, but maybe that's just hopeful thinking.

Campaign

A redeeming quality was the varied mission design. I would have hoped for more missions and mission types (harvest/escort/intercept etc.).
The story was dissatisfying and cringe. I understand that it is a challenge to match the original gravitas of Homeworld 1 with the last of their kind setting aside differences and embarking on a journey to reclaim their homeworld. However, the lore offers near limitless potential to tell more epic stories than the one that was delivered. I take particular issue with the one-dimensional and childish portaial of the antagonist - it's almost offensive to consider that this was settled on.
This Campaign is a done deal and the damage is done, enough has been said about that in other places. I could look past the campaign if there was a great game beyond that, but unfortunately there are a lot of gripes.

Wargames

I see potential in this mode provided some tuning and more variety. I started seeing repetition too early. The difficulty does not appear to scale for solo runs, though. I tried multiple runs but typically got overwhelmed by enemy multiple destoyers while only having strikecraft and frigates. A way to beat wargames solo involves cheesing the capture mechanics on mission 1 to amass captured frigates, along with having the right fleet and relics, and sometimes abusing bomber cloak with passive stance. This is not fun or entertaining. I see this designed for multiple players taking on different roles, but a solo mode should absoultely be viable.

• Wargames needs more varienty and challenge tuning based on the number of players.
• I'd love the ability to pause or control speed when playing solo
• Later maps should allow to hyperspace in battlecruisers

Relic design: There are so many to pick from, and RNG is a problem, especially if it doens't align to your fleet. I'd rather propose pre-defined relic tech trees that you progressively unlock/progress per relic, and you could spec these into distinct 'builds' over the course of missions, and in alignment to your fleet. Fleets could have distinct trees to explore, which would add to replay value, and there could be different relic types that progress different branches.
The relic buffs are extreme, but most also have downsides. A notion is that this having tech trees will allow for more granular balancing and customization, without having to worry about the various relic effects stacking and interacting. It would allow for a more defined progression, and the advancement would benefit the fleet, as the benefit is aligned to its niche.
Generally, information about fleet attributes is a bit lacking. I'd appreciate more information about pros/cons, unit unlocks, unit limits (and tech trees).

Skirmish

Skirmish is not that interesting given the small maps and design of the tech tree. The gameplay is rather chaotic with an emphasis on the earlier tiers. Resources are limited, and matches may not last long enough for capital ships to be relevant.

• More objective-driven gameplay would make it more interesting (holding/fortifying certain postions)
• There could be strategic points with limitless RCU like mining asteroids or megastructure outlets etc. to control
• Symmetrical maps!

Abuse of capture mechanic

This was a thing in the first game where you captured all the beam frigates, but really it's not a good mechanic if it can be cheesed to go beyond the unit limits. In mission 9 I amassed an armada of battle cruisers and steamrolled the later missions with them. Why destroy an enemy battle cruiser if you can easily caputre it?
For wargames this became a means to beat it solo, but really it feels cheap and it's not fun or engaging - the mode should be tuned instead. I'd say a way to limit this would be to prevent ships from launching beyong the unit cap, or to have ships captured ships be dismantled for resources instead when at the limit.

Resources

In campaign mode you basically never have to really worry about resources. You limit your losses and replace the few you have. In wargames you get by, but it isn't viable when using strikecraft fleets.

Controls

I gave the modern controls a go and was ok. At times I struggles to navigate unit movement, especially if sending them in open spaces at different heights. I had to reconfigure many keybindings because e.g. WASD was incompatible with some of the default unit ability keys (D for dock, S for stop). Abilities could be streamlined to fewer keys, especially considering that some are unique to units.

• Modern controls in conjunction with ability keybindings need to be reviewed

Megastructures and mechanics

A key difference with HW3 are map megastructres. These are largely a gimmick because at the end numbers and composition matter more. I find it unfortunate that many of the mechanics aren't actually being used in the game modes:

• No nebulas to use for flanks or hidden approaches
• No asteriods to watch out for
• No spires to control for extended vision in skirmish

In a sense it is a missed opportunity to embed some of these mechanics into the gameplay in a meaningful way. Outside of the mission with limited units and no repairs these mechanics can be largely ignored.

Capital ships - lack of hard points

The fact that capital ships lack hard points and customization is a misgiving. This would have added tactical depth and more interesting mechanics. It is also missing identity for specific ships. I would have hoped for strikecraft to be expendable harassment unit (i.e. drones) fielded by carriers, and ships to be customizable to a degree.

• Motherships/Carriers could be able to be customized with docking bays that field and mantain (without cost, other than time) a squadon of strikecraft - this way a carrier = strikecraft, with a degree on emphasis, depening on whay types of strikecraft you assign for maintenance
• Destoyers should feature modules for additional weapons, or vision upgrades
• Motherships/Carriers should also have options for weapon systems or modules for passive auto-repair
• Motherships/Carriers should feature options for repair beams to repair nearby units
• Modules to extend range of strikecraft
• Modules to customize abilities/superweapons
• A module should be replacable for auto-repairs
• Shield generators?

Strikecraft should in turn excell at taking our hard points to e.g. penetrate and disable shields, take out engines for rotation/movement, cripple repairs or disable strikecarft production. That would create more of a rock/papescissor dynamic between capital/strikecraft/frigate classes.
Carriers and the mothership should be capable of 'short jumps' to reposition over larger distances on the map to setup staging areas (but with a long cooldown and module dependency). This would play particular interesting with nebulas/megastructures/asteriods on maps to hide the position of carriers.

Strikecraft

Outside of spamming strikecraft in some modes they are actually not a good in terms of cost/benefit. Frigates can take out entire squadrons costing less than that squadron collectively cost to build. If you have the option you stop using vulnerable strikecraft and maybe only keep bombers at hand/docked until you need them. In later campaign mission and even in wargames I kept bombers docked until I had a high HP target to use them against. Anything else was dealt with using frigates etc. that can be repaired.
As outlined above I had hoped to see strikecraft squadrons tied to carrier hangar bays and being explicitly expendable, but possibly limited to an operational range within a carrier by a control/fuel mechanic. I also think that strikecraft should have had shields and auto-repair to enable hit & run tactics, while elevating carriers as higher-value targets.

Corvettes

I found corvettes weak. A main use was against missile frigates and capture corvettes, but typically I'd keep them away from combat because they aren't durable enough. Corvettes could be harder-hitting, wither anti-srikecrafr or anti-frigate, but field smaller squadrons (see carrier hard points and strikecraft bays). In turn they should be a bit more durable.

Frigates

A small gripe is a certain overlap/redundancy with assault and suppression frigates, which could have been used to diversify factions instead. Similarly this applies to beam frigates compared to other alternatives (e.g. heavy missiles).

Unit behaviors

• Units break formations (missile frigates are particularly agregious since they move away from escorts in attempt to maximize distances to targets)
• Units level targets on the Z-plane instead of staying above
• Strikecraft overtake targets in runs instead of matching speed and pursuing while maintaining fire
• Stikecraft behavious in general leave to be desired when it comes to avoiding enemy lines of fire etc., and stances should factor more into these
• Using shere formation isn't a mobility disadvantage for strikecraft (maintaining position is not necessarily a risk)

Faction balance and design

Overall unit design is too equivalent which makes for a much larger impact of imbalanaces on other aspects, e.g. Incarnate lacking repairs and the Incarnate Mothership being unable to harvest resources.
With unit designs the slots should be filled with fewer, more distinct units (e.g. more diversity with use of shells/lasers/rockets etc.). The incarnate are in a sense to similar to other factions. This is also resembled in abilities, which are generally unimaginative and not utility based. Most abilities just buff either speed, damage or armor, so most of the time it is beneficial to use abilities, and timing or targeting isn't crucial.

Bugs and Annoyances

• The game telling me I lost ships when I take down enemy ones
• Addition of units to control groups resets formations
• Support frigates should be enables to repair groups (ctrl-drag ability) and repair the unit with least relative hp.

Conclusions

For context, I played about 27h in game (campaign on hard, all achievements done), all solo. I've played all the previous games. Theres a lot more to say, so this post is by no means comprehensive, but more of a write-up in the moment. Opinions may vary.
On a positive outlook the game ran well for me without issues, and I do see potential with the game. However, a lot of potential is untapped. I do hope that feedback is taken into account and the game will be actively developed into a better version of itself over the next months.

Chapter 1
Scene 1
Sunlight streamed through the windows of my modern apartment as I meticulously folded clothes and packed my bags, the anticipation of an upcoming trip tingling in the air. The day seemed ordinary enough until the doorbell shattered the tranquility.

Startled, I hurried to answer it, only to find Elena bursting into the house with her usual exuberance. She was a whirlwind of energy, her long chestnut hair tied back in a messy ponytail, her bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement. Her olive skin glowed with vitality, and her infectious smile lit up the room.

"Peter, what took you so long to answer?" she exclaimed, her voice carrying a mix of impatience and amusement as she took in the array of luggage before me.

I shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "Just packing for a trip."

Elena scoffed, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Immigrating, are we?" She scanned the room before turning her attention back to me. "Seriously, though, what's with all the luggage?"

I chuckled at her bluntness. "You know me, always overpacking."

She rolled her eyes, reaching for her phone and cranking up the volume on her favorite song. The heavy riff of "Passenger" by Deftones filled the room, adding a pulsating rhythm to our conversation.

Taking a seat at the cluttered kitchen table, Elena flashed me a mischievous grin. "I came to hang out with my friend. Is that a crime?"

I raised an eyebrow, eyeing her suspiciously.

Elena's laughter filled the room, unapologetic. "Okay, you caught me. I need your help." Despite my curiosity, apprehension flickered, yet her sparkling eyes drew me in. "Come on, Peter," she urged. "I promise it'll be worth your while."

"What do you need me for?" I asked, unable to resist her infectious enthusiasm.

Elena's brows furrowed, and she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I was hired by a family in Silverlake to find their missing daughter, Emily. She disappeared without a trace, and I've been investigating this case for weeks. But I have zero leads."

I frowned. "And you think I can help?"

Elena nodded eagerly. "You're one of the best investigative journalists I know, Peter. Your skills are exactly what we need to crack this case wide open."

"I promised my mom I'd spend a vacation with her. I leave in 2 days. I'm sorry, I cannot help you," I said firmly, my resolve wavering in the face of Elena's determination.

"In 2 DAYS AND YOU'RE PACKING FROM NOW?!" Elena exclaimed incredulously.

"Well, I've got to be well prepared," I defended with a shrug, trying to downplay the urgency of the situation.

"This will be over in less than 2 days. All I need from you is to help me identify her last known location when she disappeared and any digital data you could find linked to her disappearance. Do that for me, and you can continue with your plan," Elena bargained, her eyes pleading with urgency.

I hesitated, torn between my obligations to my family and the pressing need to help Elena solve this mystery.

"Well, you could get that from CCTV cameras and her social media, what do you need me for?" I asked, raising my voice slightly to be heard over the blaring chorus of "Passenger."

The heavy guitars and pounding drums filled the room, drowning out Elena's next words as she searched my face for a response. "Well, don't you think I tried that?" she retorted, frustration evident in her voice. "I couldn't get access to CCTV footage, and her social media revealed nothing. I need a deeper search into the digital landscape, and you're the one I trust the most with this."

"One thing is never enough for you, though. You have a way of always pulling me with you, and I really need this. My mother needs me right now. I haven't seen her since the funeral, and I cannot let her down," I said, my voice cracking with emotion.

Elena's expression softened, her eyes reflecting understanding. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I get it, Peter. Family comes first. But think about it, helping me could bring closure to another family who's desperate for answers."

Her words struck a chord within me, igniting a sense of duty and purpose that I couldn't ignore.

Taking a deep breath, I nodded slowly.

I grabbed a notebook and a pen, my determination solidifying as I focused on the task at hand. "I'll do it for the girl's family."

A flicker of relief crossed Elena's face, her shoulders sagging slightly as she realized I was onboard. "Thank you, Peter," she said, her voice tinged with gratitude.

"The town of Silverlake, where Emily had disappeared, was 140 miles away. It was a daunting distance, but one that felt insignificant in the face of the urgency of the situation. Little did I know, Emily wasn't the only one missing. There was a series of disappearances in Silverlake that had gone unnoticed until now."

With a shared glance, Elena and I made an unspoken agreement. We would go to Silverlake, together, to start investigating immediately.

Scene 2
As Elena and I approached the reception desk, the polished tiles of the lobby floor echoed softly beneath our steps, carrying an air of anticipation. The lobby itself exuded a quiet elegance, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sunlight streaming through the expansive windows. A gentle hum of activity filled the space, punctuated by the occasional rustle of papers.

The receptionist, a woman with an air of indifference, glanced up from her notebook as we approached. Her eyes, cool and assessing, swept over us before settling on Elena with a hint of curiosity. "How can I help you, dear?" she asked, her voice monotone yet tinged with a subtle edge of detachment.

Elena, undeterred by the receptionist's demeanor, greeted her with a warm smile that illuminated her features. "We're in need of a room for my friend here," she said, gesturing towards me with a nod of her head. "He'll be staying with us."

The receptionist's expression remained unchanged as she reached for another key, her movements precise and methodical. Retrieving the key, she handed it to me with a detached air. "Room 204, second floor, fourth room on the right," she repeated mechanically, her attention already drifting back to her notebook as if our presence was of little consequence.

As I accepted the key, my gaze was drawn to a striking symbol adorning the wall beside the reception desk – the Eye of Horus. Etched in gold against a backdrop of deep blue, its intricate design seemed to watch over the lobby with an enigmatic presence, casting a subtle aura of mystery over the space.

"it's all over the place in here they believe it protects them from evil" Elena shrugged, noticing my gaze lingering on the Eye of Horus.

I nodded thoughtfully, intrigued by the symbolism woven into the fabric of the hotel. "Interesting," I murmured.

With the key in hand, I turned to follow Elena as she led the way towards the staircase, the soft echo of our footsteps mingling with the hushed whispers of the hotel's guests. As we ascended the stairs.

As Elena entered the room, she immediately shed her coat and rushed to the counter, grabbing her phone. Without pause, the familiar strains of Metallica's "Master of Puppets" filled the room, blasting at an ear-splitting volume.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at Elena's predictable ritual.

"Okay, Mr. P, we have no time to waste," Elena declared over the blaring music, oblivious to my annoyance. "Grab your notebook and let's start with the case."

"Emily's disappearance was the initial focus of my investigation," Elena began, her eyes reflecting the seriousness of the matter. "According to her family, Emily was extremely close to her mother. Her life seemed to be on track, with a successful career in marketing and a new boyfriend. However, her parents didn't approve of her relationship with Matthew, citing him as a point of contention."

She paused, her gaze drifting as if searching for the right words to convey the complexity of the situation. "The police initially dismissed Emily's disappearance as a case of a young woman running away, especially since Matthew was also missing."

Elena's voice wavered slightly, betraying the weight of the uncertainty surrounding Emily's fate. "For a while, I entertained the possibility that Emily had indeed chosen to leave her life behind. But then, three days ago, another woman disappeared under similar circumstances."
"And where is Matthew?" I interjected, my mind grappling with the complexities of the case. "His friends and family filed a missing persons report on him as well. He disappeared one day before Emily. But there's no reason to think of him as a suspect, is there?"

Elena's expression darkened, mirroring the shadow of uncertainty that clouded my thoughts. "That's the perplexing part," she replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "All three people disappeared without a trace. One moment they were there, and the next... poof, disappeared as if they've been captured by ghosts."

Her words sent a chill down my spine, and I couldn't shake off the sense of foreboding that gripped me. It was as if we were peering into the abyss of the unknown, where answers remained elusive and danger lurked in the shadows.

As my mind raced, struggling to contain the torrent of thoughts swirling within, I sought desperately for patterns amidst the chaos. With furrowed brow, I turned to Elena, my voice trembling with urgency.

"Is there any connection between the third woman who disappeared and Emily or Matthew?" I inquired, grasping at straws in the hopes of unraveling the enigma before us.

Elena shook her head solemnly, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "No," she replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "The third woman is a 50-year-old, last seen exiting her workplace at the quaint bistro, La Petite Cuisine, and heading home."

The revelation sent a shiver down my spine, the realization sinking in that the disappearances were not isolated incidents but part of a larger, more sinister web of mystery. As I pondered the implications, a sense of unease settled over me, the unknown looming ominously on the horizon like a gathering storm.

"Listen, P," Elena's urgency resonated in her voice as she spoke, her words cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. "I acquired CCTV footage of Emily's last sighting, and that's what I need you for."

Without a moment's hesitation, she raced to retrieve her laptop, returning with it clutched tightly in her grasp. With a sense of urgency, she opened the device, revealing the footage of Emily walking down a seemingly ordinary square, her demeanor betraying no hint of the impending turmoil.

But then, like a sudden storm on a clear day, a police patrol car flashed across the screen, casting a shadow of doubt over the otherwise mundane scene. "That means the police have more information on Emily's last movements," I realized, a knot forming in the pit of my stomach.

In a voice tinged with frustration, Elena explained her futile attempts to obtain a statement from the police, leaving us stranded in a sea of uncertainty. It was a crucial piece of the puzzle that remained tantalizingly out of reach, teasing us with its elusiveness.

Turning to me with pleading eyes, Elena's hand reached out to grasp my arm, her wide eyes locking with mine in an unspoken plea. "I need you to secure an interview with the chief of police or any detective working the case," she implored, her voice soft but desperate. "You could still go on your awaited vacation with your mum afterward."

Her touch sparked a fire within me, "alright el I'll think of a plan but I need some rest first, maybe we could meet at the lobby after 2 hours?"

"Thank you, Peter, for real," Elena's gratitude washed over me, momentarily easing the weight of the task ahead. "Also, two hours sharp, don't be late, ey?"

I offered her a reassuring smile, my resolve firm. "I am always on time," I assured her, though a flicker of uncertainty danced behind my eyes.

"Yeah, right," Elena retorted sarcastically, her skepticism evident as she exited the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

As the door clicked shut behind her, a sense of apprehension settled over me like a heavy shroud. Contemplation mingled with reservation, and a hint of fear gnawed at the edges of my mind.
Scene 3
As Elena departed, I surveyed the room. It bore the marks of neglect, with faded wallpaper peeling at the edges and worn furniture showing signs of age. The bed, positioned against one wall, appeared tired and weathered, its mattress sagging in the middle and the sheets bearing wrinkles. Above the bed, an out-of-place symbol caught my attention once again - the Eye of Horus, its intricate design etched into a wooden plaque and mounted on the wall.

Feeling the weight of exhaustion settle upon me, I sank onto the bed, craving a moment of respite. Before I could even settle in, the insistent ring of my phone shattered the silence. With a resigned sigh, I reached for the device, noting the caller ID - it was my mother, FaceTiming me.

I answered her call, greeted by the warm glow of her smile radiating through the screen. Our exchange of greetings was laced with the gentle familiarity of mother and son.

"Hello, dear," she chimed, "So, you finally found some time to visit your old mum, did you? How kind of you."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, accustomed to the underlying reproach that often accompanied her affectionate words. "Yes, Mom," I replied, trying to mask the unease in my voice with forced cheerfulness. "I'm looking forward to spending some time with you."

Her smile widened. "Well, I'll believe it when I see it," she quipped, her words laden with a veiled challenge. "Don't keep me waiting too long now. You know how precious my time is."

"Are you calling me just to do that?" I interjected, a hint of frustration creeping into my voice.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Do what, dear?" she inquired innocently.

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat as I grappled with the swirling emotions inside me. "Never mind, Mom," I murmured, a wave of guilt washing over me for even entertaining the notion of confronting her.

But before I could retract my statement, her expression softened, and her voice took on a tone of vulnerability that caught me off guard. "Listen, Peter, I'm sorry," she began, her words tinged with a hint of sadness. "I just miss you. You don't call enough, and it feels like there's nothing for us to talk about. I just..."

Her voice trailed off, leaving the weight of her unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between us. In that moment, I felt a pang of sympathy for the woman on the other end of the line, grappling with her own insecurities and yearning for connection in the only way she knew how.

"I understand," I replied softly, feeling a surge of empathy. "I've been too caught up in my work, but that's why I decided to take this vacation. I've missed you too, Mom, and I really am looking forward to spending more time with you."

A genuine smile spread across my mother's face, her eyes lighting up with warmth and relief. "Oh, Peter, that's wonderful to hear!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine happiness. "I've missed you more than you know, dear. It's been too long since we've had a chance to catch up properly."

Before we could delve further into our conversation, my mother couldn't resist injecting a bit of her trademark humor. "Well, now that you're finally taking a break from work, maybe you'll have some time to find yourself a nice, not-at-all-crazy wife," she teased, a mischievous twinkle dancing in her eye.

Her playful jab elicited a hearty chuckle from me, knowing full well it was all in good fun. "We'll see, Mom," I replied with a laugh, shaking my head affectionately. "But for now, I think I'll focus on spending time with my favorite woman - you."

With a heartwarming laugh, my mother waved goodbye, her parting words carrying a hint of playful insistence. "Don't forget to keep your eyes open, Peter! You never know when Mrs. Right might come along," she quipped before ending the call, leaving me smiling at her enduring humor and unwavering love.

As she hung up, the old bed's worn embrace felt oddly inviting. I sank into its tired folds, finding unexpected comfort in its familiarity, and drifted into a well-deserved sleep.

scene 4

The sound of my alarm rang, and I half-opened my eyes, seeing only in black and white. I hit snooze and repeated the process five times until I finally woke up. I hoped Elena wouldn’t get mad at me for being late. The bed squeaked as I got up, and I hastily washed my face. As I turned on the water tap, I noticed water droplets leaking from the sides.

"Jeez, this place needs serious renovations," I muttered to myself.

I walked to the lobby, only to meet Elena.

"Hi, El," I said, bracing myself for Elena to scold me for my lateness.

"Hello, Peter," she replied in a low voice. She seemed to be staring at a void behind me, her face expressionless and still. I took a step closer to her.

"El, you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, all is good. Uhm, weren't you supposed to leave for a trip to see your mom?"

"Well, yeah, in two days. I'll help you with this thi—" I began, confusion visible on my face, but Elena interrupted me. Her voice was firm, yet she avoided making eye contact.

"No, Peter, it's fine. I've thought about it, and I don't need your help anymore. You can go."

"I am not your toy, Elena. You can't just make me travel with you and then ask me to leave before I even get the chance to do anything," I snapped, my anger blinding me to the obvious. There was something Elena was hiding, and I needed to be calm to understand what was going on.

I tried to salvage the situation by apologizing and reassuring her that I was by her side, but it was too late. Elena's eyes welled up with tears. "I'm sorry, but please, Peter, leave. Go on your trip," she said, storming out of the lobby.

As she left, I noticed a necklace with the Eye of Horus dangling around her neck. Why does Elena wear this, and why is this place filled with an ancient Egyptian symbol? I froze, unsure of what to do. As I ran after Elena, desperation gnawed at my insides. She wasn't in front of the lobby anymore. I hopped into my car and started scouring the streets, telling myself she couldn't have gone too far.

I drove down every street, checked every alley, but Elena was nowhere to be found. Panic rose within me, and my breath quickened as I frantically tried to contact her, only to find her phone out of service.

Finally, I parked in front of an old bar. It was midnight by now, and the place was bustling with people. As I entered, I was greeted by a middle-aged man with a full beard. "Hey, newcomer, welcome to the Allure Bar," he slurred, his breath heavy with alcohol. He introduced himself as Michael Convivial, the owner of the bar, and offered me a shot on the house since it was my first time there.

"I didn't come here for the drinks," I said, the song 'What Am I to You' playing softly in the background. I showed him a photo of Elena, and he instantly recognized her, laughing as he muttered something I couldn't quite catch.

"That crazy girl who still hopes," he said, his speech slurred. He mentioned that he last saw her two days ago.

As I stepped out of the bar and headed towards my car, a ping from my phone startled me. It was a message from an unknown ID, accompanied by a chilling photo. In it, Elena lay unconscious, her Eye of Horus necklace smashed beside her. The caption sent shivers down my spine: "Listen to Elena, outsider. Get out of Silverlake and don't get involved in a fight you've got nothing to do with."

Dread washed over me as I stared at the image, my mind racing with questions.

As my fingers moved almost of their own accord, typing out a message, my mind raced with a mixture of fear and determination.

"I don't know who you are, but I will soon, and I will make you pay," I wrote, my fingers trembling slightly as I pressed send. "You've made it personal by kidnapping Elena, and I won't let you hurt her even more, you hear me?!"

Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the screen. I never knew I cared for Elena this deeply until this moment. The thought of her in danger filled me with a sense of fierce protectiveness, driving me to do whatever it takes to bring her back safely.

Throwaway account Sorry for lack of grammaspelling. I’ve never posted on Reddit and it’s late where I am. Long time listener of the podcast.
I (f23) and my boyfriend (m24) have been dating for almost 4 1/2 years. We have been living in an apartment together for the past 2 years. Let’s call my bf Ryan.
In September 2022, we went to another state for Ryan’s birthday (we’re from the U.S.) We had a great time and it was our first big trip as a couple.
The night before our flight home we were in the bed of our hotel room. He asked me to have sex and I told him not right now, because I was working on a homework assignment that was due that night. He said ok.
As I’m working I look over at him laying right next to me and he’s looking at porn. Right in front of me. Not videos of people having sex, but pictures of naked girls.
I tried to grab his phone but he held onto it tightly. I began to chew him out and ask what the fuck. I asked him how often he had been looking and he said “just right now.” I finally got his phone and went through his search history and he had been looking several times every day of our trip. Some of the timestamps even showed he had looked when he had gone to the bathroom after we had sex. He also had a video saved from tiktok in his recently deleted folder of a girl that was like “pause at the right second” to see her ass or something like that.
Ryan said he usually has porn blocked on his phone (idk how, some setting on safari?) but sometimes when he turns it off when he travels so bc sometimes the setting causes him to not be able to access certain websites we need while traveling. Idk if that’s bullshit or not.
I told him to leave me alone so he left, went to a restaurant or something. I was sobbing and called my friend (f25). When I told my friend what had happened she laughed and said “well, me and my husband look at porn.” It made me angry she didn’t care about my feelings so I hung up on her. I don’t care that she and her husband look at porn, but it was a shock to me that Ryan was looking. Later we were able to talk about it when I had calmed down and she was more sympathetic, but it still hurt me that she laughed.
Ryan came back to the hotel and I pretended to be asleep. He tried to spoon me and I told him to get away from me. We had an early flight the next morning and I tried to do as little talking as possible while he did everything he could to kiss my ass.
My parents picked us up from the airport so I acted like nothing had happened. When we got home I broke down sobbing. I’ve never cried like that before; I was crying so hard I was gasping for air and I couldn’t breathe.
Ryan said he felt horrible and he loves me. He never wanted to hurt me like this again. I decided to forgive him, only because we hadn’t discussed porn before as a couple and I guess I hadn’t expressed how it made me feel.
Flash forward to a few days ago (may 2024)
In the morning we’re laying in bed together cuddling and he pulls out his phone. When he unlocks it, it’s a picture of a naked girl on Google. Again, I try to take his phone and he won’t let me have it. He said he feels ashamed. I took it from him and searched his history which I actually found nothing. I searched his camera roll, email, tiktok, Instagram, text messages and didn’t find anything. He had only looked at the porn in the middle of the night (he had told m he was feeling sick. Does porn make your stomach ache go away?🙄)
Ryan had to go to work and I told him to not talk to me. He sent me a long message apologizing and saying he needs to get help. When he got home from work he said that he wants to try a few solutions. He said he wants to go to therapy to help him with his porn addiction. I asked him how often he looks, and he says probably every two weeks for about a year. That really hurts that he’s been looking for about a year, because that meant that just a few months after the first incident he went back to looking at porn and forgot or didn’t care how it made me feel.
Next he said that he wants to put a parental lock on his phone that blocks porn on safari and I’m the one who would have the password. I said I didn’t want to do that bc I want to trust my partner. I don’t want to be monitoring him. I don’t want to be his mother.
I basically forgave him and went about the next couple days. But when I’m alone or it’s late at night, all I can think about is how he continued to look at porn when he knew how much it hurt me. I couldn’t shake the feeling so I brought it up with him tonight.
I kept asking him how he could do that to me and he said it was just stupid mistakes. I told him it felt like he was cheating based off our agreement that he wouldn’t look at it again. He was looking at pictures of naked girls; how is that different than receiving a nude from someone?
I asked him if he felt like it was cheating and he said yes. He said he’ll give me all the time and space I need and I said “I don’t know if I need space or if I’m done.” I told him that I need to have respect for myself and I broke up with him.
Of course it was terrible. Crying on both ends. I packed a bag and went to my parents house and told them everything. I later called my sister (f22) to tell her everything.
I’m confused on what to do. Everyone seems to support my decision, but I am getting mixed reactions. My parents say some people view porn as cheating, and others don’t. My sister says that I maybe overreacted and it seems like he tried to extend an olive branch by wanting to go to therapy and giving me the parental safari lock. But she supports whatever I decide.
I want to take this moment to say I do not care or shame others if they choose to look at porn and it’s ok in their relationship. To me the thing that bothered me is he was looking at naked girls and hiding it from me. But am I over reacting by breaking up over it?
He says he has an addiction, but to me an addiction is something you can’t live without, have to do every day. He’s only doing it every couple weeks. I told him it sounds more like a guilty pleasure, and he said guilty pleasure and addiction are the same which I don’t agree with.
What I do know is he used to have a stronger problem with porn. He found his dad’s playboys when he was 7, and when he was a teenager he says it was really bad. I feel bad that he has had to struggle with that.
I am not in expert in addiction, so I truly don’t know if this situation is classified as an addiction or not. If it is of course I want him to get help and become better. But when do I stop showing forgiveness and look out for myself?
I also don’t know a lot about porn bc I don’t look at it. What I do know is that it hurts that Ryan was looking up pictures of girls. I asked him how he felt if roles were reversed and he said it would hurt his feelings too.
I called him before bed and told him maybe we could make it work with therapy. If he really is struggling with an addiction, I should probably help him through that. But I don’t know if I can ever trust/forgive him for looking at porn all the time, hiding it from me, when he knew how much it hurt me the first time.
What should I do? I love him so much and it hurts. Should I try to stick it out and us go to therapy together, or just fully end it?

With the recent updates I've decided to get back into Starfield after a 6 month break, and it has me looking to the future positively. Now in a vacuum the updates doesn't seem like much, do it? whoopdeedoo, a map, every game has a map! Who cares! It should have been there day 1! Right?
Well, for me, I'm looking at it from a different perspective than apparently all of my friends. None of them care about any of the changes or updates we've gotten recently and won't give the game another shot. "Girl it's just a map, why would I redownload a game for a map?" For me, to see them work on QoL features like this, and flesh them out to such a degree (full 3D color map with icons and scanner integration) 8 months after the rocky launch tells me that enough people at the company actually care about the game and this isn't going to just be an abandoned game where Microsoft tells them to cut their losses and move onto Fallout/TES (heard Microsoft want a Fallout game out sooner rather than later because of the TV show's success) or something because of the public perception of the new IP based on first impressions.
These features may not seem like much to most gamers, but to me they're telling. Again, whoopdeedoo right? A car? Every game has cars n' stuff, right? Who cares??? Well, I do, lol. I'm sure some of you do, too. That's Bethesda's first non-horse land vehicle ever. That's a monumental thing, even if it's "just a car" and they developed flyable modular space ships, it's still something they've not done before, and they're doing it nearly a year post launch. To me it tells me that they're willing to see this game through (that 10 years they were talking about) if they're putting in this much effort outside of DLCs this far out. I can't think of many games that have done these kinds of things. NMS comes to mind. "Okay the game has been out for a year, we're adding a whole vehicle system now for free!" Despite the player numbers, they're still working on high quality QoL features. It would have been much easier to just give us a 2D black and white map like a pipboy, but they went the extra mile, full color, full 3D.
Saw a lot of talk about player numbers from friends so I'll address that, too. "Game's dead" type talk. Yes, roughly half a million players on launch week on Steam down to just a couple thousand on average. All games do that eventually, but them sticking with it shows, well, that they're sticking with it! To me, at least. Skyrim (a 13 year old game) on Steam still has 3-4x the players currently vs Starfield. (20-30k vs 5-10k daily) Which reminds me of, and puts it in that same category as my other favorite niche space games that only manage to pull in 5k players while their fantasy counterparts of the same genres get several times the players.
Generally I can just reason that disparity simply as: It's over a decade older, (more widespread) an established IP, (more fans) and cheaper to get into, (Skyrim Anniversary Edition is 50$ but often goes on sale for 20$) a more popular setting, (fantasy) and more content, (All DLC has been made already) so of course it'll have more players, right? But my friends still treat it like it's an indication that the game is garbage, lol. Still, just seeing that their predecessor is out performing their new IP to such a degree despite being over a decade old, but they're not slowing down or just moving onto something else a year later to me shows they're in it for the long haul. As they put out more and more of these updates, the review scores slowly increase, as well. It's up to 50% on Steam, up to a 6 on metacritic, etc. It's slowly been rising, people are slowly coming back who didn't like the game on launch. BGS' efforts are paying off.
I can count on one hand the number of games I've played that had rocky launchs like Starfield in the last 25 years that went ahead and did quality updates like this going on a year after its launch. Most just cut their losses and leave onto the next project if reception isn't great. Now do I expect a NMS scenario where Todd gives us 10 unique vehicles, fully customizable mechs, and crazy new mechanics for the next 10 years straight? No... BUT, Bethesda has me hopeful for the future of the game. There is so much they can and are doing with the game, even if it doesn't seem like much to most, it seems like a lot to me based on their history, public perception of the game, quality of the updates, etc. 8 months ago I could barely hit 20 FPS, now I've got DLSS, frame gen, etc. They didn't have to add these things, but they chose to. The game was playable by thousands for 8 months without world maps. It technically wasn't a required thing, but they went ahead and spent time adding it, and adding it *right.*
They also have unique opportunities to do things with their game's story that most studios don't. (Without spoilers, due to the main quest and NG+ mechanics, you could very easily alter entire quest lines and plots in the future. If you know about NG+ oddities, then you know what I mean by being able to change things in the game if they want to, as they already have. I've seen tons of great suggestions for DLCs or even normal updates that would be quite fun in a NG+ scenario.) Imagine you drop into a new universe but the FC and UC are still at war because the treaty failed in their universe due to a starborn messing with things.
I do hope this QoL trend continues, and that they revisit some things in the game that could use a little TLC. There's a lot of "starts off great, ends abruptly" types of things and quests, or things and quests that start strong but eventually go nowhere, that you could easily fix with DLC. (Y'know, like without spoilers, a murder mystery quest where you never catch the bad guy, it just kind of ends in what feels like the midway point of the investigation. Well, DLC/update patch!) There's so much they could do to liven things up that shouldn't break established games and saves. (Procedural PoI changes, for instance. We've all been to a planet that had the same mining outpost 2 feet from its twin before.)
I've heard a lot of complaints about many things that seem like things they could simply fix. Things that aren't impossible due to engine limitations and the such. The issues I always hear aren't things like "I want this feature that is technically impossible on the creation engine." It's issues like "The big long quest about going to a mech factory to fight a boss ends without a boss fight or any mechs... I ran around for 3 minutes thinking I broke the quest and the boss fight hadn't triggered, only to Google it and learn the quest was over, there was no mech boss battle in the mech factory." If they can design a whole working vehicle and its systems, they can make a single mob for a boss battle of a major quest in a future update, right? Heck, you can even just have it be stationary. Just a turret, if you will. "You got here as the mech was being built so only the weapons system and torso actuator are online." and it becomes one of those classic hide behind the pillars boss fights.
While we're here, I do hope that one day we can preview ship cabin interiors before buying them, and color the interior walls like we can the exterior walls. As a noob, seeing literally 40 hab options at level 1, can make it hard to choose from them without visual aids of how they're set up! All the habs look identical on the outside, and unless you've played the game, you won't know what a Deimos crew quarters 1x2 looks like compared to a Nova Galactic crew quarters 1x2 until you actually buy them and go see for yourself. Which I've done, about 20 or so times, haha. Lots of running back and forth to see what a new hab looks like inside and reloading saves.
Anyways... I've gone on long enough. Starfield has its problems, but seeing Bethesda give us stuff like the world maps, starship interior customization, and vehicles, has me thinking optimistically about the future of the game. There's so much they could do to liven up the world without having to re-write the whole game or engine. Just generation tweaks, extending quests that seemed to end out of nowhere, adding QoL features, etc. Anyone else?
Figured I'd post here, too, see what the low sodium crowd thinks.

With the recent updates I've decided to get back into Starfield after a 6 month break, and it has me looking to the future positively. Now in a vacuum the updates doesn't seem like much, do it? whoopdeedoo, a map, every game has a map! Who cares! It should have been there day 1! Right?
Well, for me, I'm looking at it from a different perspective than apparently all of my friends. None of them care about any of the changes or updates we've gotten recently and won't give the game another shot. "Girl it's just a map, why would I redownload a game for a map?" For me, to see them work on QoL features like this, and flesh them out to such a degree (full 3D color map with icons and scanner integration) 8 months after the rocky launch tells me that enough people at the company actually care about the game and this isn't going to just be an abandoned game where Microsoft tells them to cut their losses and move onto Fallout/TES (heard Microsoft want a Fallout game out sooner rather than later because of the TV show's success) or something because of the public perception of the new IP based on first impressions.
These features may not seem like much to most gamers, but to me they're telling. Again, whoopdeedoo right? A car? Every game has cars n' stuff, right? Who cares??? Well, I do, lol. I'm sure some of you do, too. That's Bethesda's first non-horse land vehicle ever. That's a monumental thing, even if it's "just a car" and they developed flyable modular space ships, it's still something they've not done before, and they're doing it nearly a year post launch. To me it tells me that they're willing to see this game through (that 10 years they were talking about) if they're putting in this much effort outside of DLCs this far out. I can't think of many games that have done these kinds of things. NMS comes to mind. "Okay the game has been out for a year, we're adding a whole vehicle system now for free!" Despite the player numbers, they're still working on high quality QoL features. It would have been much easier to just give us a 2D black and white map like a pipboy, but they went the extra mile, full color, full 3D.
Saw a lot of talk about player numbers from friends so I'll address that, too. "Game's dead" type talk. Yes, roughly half a million players on launch week on Steam down to just a couple thousand on average. All games do that eventually, but them sticking with it shows, well, that they're sticking with it! To me, at least. Skyrim (a 13 year old game) on Steam still has 3-4x the players currently vs Starfield. (20-30k vs 5-10k daily) Which reminds me of, and puts it in that same category as my other favorite niche space games that only manage to pull in 5k players while their fantasy counterparts of the same genres get several times the players.
Generally I can just reason that disparity simply as: It's over a decade older, (more widespread) an established IP, (more fans) and cheaper to get into, (Skyrim Anniversary Edition is 50$ but often goes on sale for 20$) a more popular setting, (fantasy) and more content, (All DLC has been made already) so of course it'll have more players, right? But my friends still treat it like it's an indication that the game is garbage, lol. Still, just seeing that their predecessor is out performing their new IP to such a degree despite being over a decade old, but they're not slowing down or just moving onto something else a year later to me shows they're in it for the long haul. As they put out more and more of these updates, the review scores slowly increase, as well. It's up to 50% on Steam, up to a 6 on metacritic, etc. It's slowly been rising, people are slowly coming back who didn't like the game on launch. BGS' efforts are paying off.
I can count on one hand the number of games I've played that had rocky launchs like Starfield in the last 25 years that went ahead and did quality updates like this going on a year after its launch. Most just cut their losses and leave onto the next project if reception isn't great. Now do I expect a NMS scenario where Todd gives us 10 unique vehicles, fully customizable mechs, and crazy new mechanics for the next 10 years straight? No... BUT, Bethesda has me hopeful for the future of the game. There is so much they can and are doing with the game, even if it doesn't seem like much to most, it seems like a lot to me based on their history, public perception of the game, quality of the updates, etc. 8 months ago I could barely hit 20 FPS, now I've got DLSS, frame gen, etc. They didn't have to add these things, but they chose to. The game was playable by thousands for 8 months without world maps. It technically wasn't a required thing, but they went ahead and spent time adding it, and adding it *right.*
They also have unique opportunities to do things with their game's story that most studios don't. (Without spoilers, due to the main quest and NG+ mechanics, you could very easily alter entire quest lines and plots in the future. If you know about NG+ oddities, then you know what I mean by being able to change things in the game if they want to, as they already have. I've seen tons of great suggestions for DLCs or even normal updates that would be quite fun in a NG+ scenario.) Imagine you drop into a new universe but the FC and UC are still at war because the treaty failed in their universe due to a starborn messing with things.
I do hope this QoL trend continues, and that they revisit some things in the game that could use a little TLC. There's a lot of "starts off great, ends abruptly" types of things and quests, or things and quests that start strong but eventually go nowhere, that you could easily fix with DLC. (Y'know, like without spoilers, a murder mystery quest where you never catch the bad guy, it just kind of ends in what feels like the midway point of the investigation. Well, DLC/update patch!) There's so much they could do to liven things up that shouldn't break established games and saves. (Procedural PoI changes, for instance. We've all been to a planet that had the same mining outpost 2 feet from its twin before.)
I've heard a lot of complaints about many things that seem like things they could simply fix. Things that aren't impossible due to engine limitations and the such. The issues I always hear aren't things like "I want this feature that is technically impossible on the creation engine." It's issues like "The big long quest about going to a mech factory to fight a boss ends without a boss fight or any mechs... I ran around for 3 minutes thinking I broke the quest and the boss fight hadn't triggered, only to Google it and learn the quest was over, there was no mech boss battle in the mech factory." If they can design a whole working vehicle and its systems, they can make a single mob for a boss battle of a major quest in a future update, right? Heck, you can even just have it be stationary. Just a turret, if you will. "You got here as the mech was being built so only the weapons system and torso actuator are online." and it becomes one of those classic hide behind the pillars boss fights.
While we're here, I do hope that one day we can preview ship cabin interiors before buying them, and color the interior walls like we can the exterior walls. As a noob, seeing literally 40 hab options at level 1, can make it hard to choose from them without visual aids of how they're set up! All the habs look identical on the outside, and unless you've played the game, you won't know what a Deimos crew quarters 1x2 looks like compared to a Nova Galactic crew quarters 1x2 until you actually buy them and go see for yourself. Which I've done, about 20 or so times, haha. Lots of running back and forth to see what a new hab looks like inside and reloading saves.
Anyways... I've gone on long enough. Starfield has its problems, but seeing Bethesda give us stuff like the world maps, starship interior customization, and vehicles, has me thinking optimistically about the future of the game. There's so much they could do to liven up the world without having to re-write the whole game or engine. Just generation tweaks, extending quests that seemed to end out of nowhere, adding QoL features, etc. Anyone else?

Have you ever been minding your own business and some empowered Terran Police tries to stop your perfect smuggling operation causing all out war? Well it happened to me, so I decided to lay waste to Sol sectors by both destroying all Terran stations and taking over the sectors. It was fun, but of course I was left with -30 rep.
It took a while but I learned 2 things, don't smuggle in Terran save(or any space) without Mirage hull to hide goods , and matter how far gone, you can get back to friendly terms again.
Here is how, at -30, I picked a Terran station which had no guns (or could not reach me where I parked). Stopped near the cargo drone path, waited for the 'criminal' drone, shot em down one by one. Took a while, but at -30, each criminal will increase your rep by 1, until you are no longer an enemy and can dock again. From there you can either setup trades (slow but hands off), keep bopping criminals or best, take simple Terran missions.
Just don't hang around with illegal inventory and save often. SETA can speed up criminal appearance to help build rep. This will work for any faction. You may need to turn off all guns in the Faction space until they don't want to kill on sight. Stay out of warring sectors to avoid stray shots, ad curtail your smuggling operations until repis over 25.
Side note, I got to keep all Sol sectors and still increased rep to 30. The station I picked for criminal hunting was medical factory in Segaris space.

so this is the first time i am actually considering reaching out to my father, i am 26 and haven’t spoke a single word to him in over 4 years. i’m also estranged from my mother for the past two years but that is not in the cards at this moment. they’re very different situations and i will not get into my mother at this time.
my dad has been an extreme alcoholic since he was 13 years old, everyone in our family struggles with it, including myself, i’ve had a bit more tools and i think going through what i did, made alcohol have less of a grip on me. his father left when he was born and his mother died very young due to alcohol.
i was put in very scary situations with him as; he was extremely suicidal so i either had to talk him off the ledge as a child or witness him harm himself infront of me, constantly having police over due to violence in the home, he never hit me or even raised his voice at me though. would have me “run away” with him at the middle of nights walking streets till the morning because cops were called and he was scared of himself or me being taken. i was also a survivor of CSA, from my father. this is just a sprinkle.
i was always close to my dad, he was extremely emotional, as i am, while my mother was cold and distant. i experienced lots of physical and verbal abuse at her house so at the time i felt he was safe because i didn’t understand. he showed interest and shared the same hobbies as me, he was also very soft and kind when sober. he made me feel seen when majority of my upbringing i felt the need to be small and hide to be safe. it’s strange to feel these soft feelings towards him.
i eventually in my early 20’s was struggling with addiction, and self harm in multiple ways, being contacted by him in the middle of the night, drunk, triggered me like no other, i felt disgust. and finally told him about the SA that took place and to never contact me again. he denied it and tbh with how little i remember of my everyday life as a child i don’t doubt he dosent remember it. it happened while he was drunk and didn’t continue into my teens.
but i find myself missing him, he was a space for me to go to when i was scared at my mothers and she wouldn’t believe me. he truly provided a lot of comfort at times, and i sometimes wonder who he would be if he wasn’t an addict.
fast forward to this year, i found out through my little brother, who is too young to go anywhere else that my dads health was rapidly declining. he is only in his mid 40’s and his insides were rotting, with the doctor letting him know that if he did not change his ways he would die. i feel like either way he will pass young as that is what happened with my grandmother.
supposedly my dad has been sober for a few months but i feel scared to trust it. as my step mom is an addict and won’t get sober with him, and i’ve been told he would before who would and it dosent happen.
the thing is, i feel like i have forgiven him. i’ve done some extreme therapy in the past few years and i honestly hurt for him. he grew up in extreme poverty and still in extreme poverty. he is 100% autistic, as i have gotten diagnosed and it is heritory and we are extremely similar. being neurodivergent and being in a capitalist world and having no help, addiction is so easy to lean into.he had no caregivers, he experienced abuse and i’m pretty positive also a survivor of CSA. idk i feel i will wonder what would have happened if i tried to talk to him and didn’t then he dies. i also like 36 hours away from him so feel i can keep good boundaries for his struggles to not take over my life, but i miss having a parent to talk to.
idk what advice i’m looking for and know at the end of the day i will make the decision but i needed to talk about this where someone could maybe relate, give their experience, or words of advice.

The worst kinds of monsters are the ones that you don’t recognize at first. For some folks, monsters are closer than they may think - shrouded in the darkness, waiting for the opportunity to strike. For a lucky few, they are protected from monsters by their loved ones, and allowed to grow and succeed.
Such was the case with Diana and Adam, a couple from Buckhannon, West Virginia. They weren’t exactly the spitting image of love - they argued sometimes, worked opposite shifts, and didn’t go out on dates that often. But, they were married, and that’s a lot farther than most couples make it. Diana was the social butterfly of the pair - dozens of friends, good relationships with people all around town, and a reputation for always carrying a sincere smile on her face and a helping hand for anyone who needed it.
At first glance, you would think that she was the one who grew up there, not Adam, but that wasn’t the case. After all, they were living in Adam’s childhood home, gifted to them by his parents as a wedding gift (and excuse to move to Florida). Adam was somewhat of a recluse - he had fine social skills, but worked the graveyard shift and never left the house much other than that. People would sometimes shoot the two glances when they were rarely sighted together - the old saying “opposites attract” might be true after all.
While they were indeed opposites, and they didn’t show it often, they did love each other, and protected each other from the monsters of the world. Not that there were many to defend from in their sleepy little town - there hadn’t been anything more than petty crime since the early 1960s.
They had been living in their home for around three years, and for Diana, it was just starting to feel like a home. When they first moved in, the place had a somber atmosphere. There was no light from street lamps peeking in through the blinds, eager to dance on her velvety skin on dark nights. There were no honks of cars outside, or faint music from a party in the distance. The environment was entirely different from the city she was raised in - and it took her a while to not hate it. After making friends with people around Buckhannon, though, her relationship with the place began to heal - she wasn’t suddenly head over heels for it, but she understood it as a staging area for the true meaning of home - the people she surrounded herself with.
Adam was accustomed to the place immediately, having lived there for years, and didn’t exactly enjoy the constant slew of company that Diana had parading through their halls. After all, he was dead tired, come sunup, and just wanted peace and quiet when he got home. He would often disregard visitors in his living room, offering a simple nod and slight smile as he climbed the old creaky stairs to go to bed. This didn’t exactly paint him nor the couple well - why was Diana married to this antisocial oddity who didn’t even seem to want people in his house at all?
While their lifestyles didn’t exactly line up, they still tried to take each other’s needs into consideration. Diana would usually go over to others’ houses if she wasn’t working and wanted to spend time with friends. If she did have company over, she tried to keep the volume to a minimum, which isn’t exactly difficult with simple conversation and coffee. Conversely, Adam would carefully traverse the house at night to ready himself for work (as much as it allowed for, with its aged floorboards). He loved her enough to let her sleep, and she loved him enough to do the same.
It was on a rare night where Adam didn’t have work that the couple got to go to bed together. The crisp autumn night let them leave the windows open to be awoken by the sounds of the birds outside. They shared a rare kiss, and rolled onto opposite sides of the bed to hopefully get a full night of sleep - they didn’t have anything to do tomorrow, after all.
Diana’s eyelids shuttered open to a mostly dark room, only pierced by a rare spot of light shining through the open window. Weird, she thought - rarely did the moonlight penetrate the treeline, although it may have been easier now, with the browned leaves crumpling off of the maple trees. Despite this oddity, everything else appeared normal - it was still dead silent, save for the distant crickets chirping in the woods. What had awoken her?
She tried to sit up, if nothing else to retrieve a glass of water. However, she could not. Her eyes widened as her heart began to race - she didn’t know what was happening, but she didn’t like it. The only part of her that could move were her emerald eyes, darting across the room and looking for anything that might be causing this, or anything she could use to snap herself out of it.
And then, it stepped into the light. Upon seeing it, she wanted to scream, loud enough to reduce every window in the house to sand. But she could not - her lungs seemed to be one of the only organs that worked, as she kept breathing, despite the fact that she didn’t want to risk making noise. Her heart also worked, evidently - it was beating so fast that she thought it might give out.
Standing in front of her was a man - or what looked like one. It was around seven feet tall, and had mostly human features, apart from a few things that were strictly impossible for any living person to have. Its right arm was completely gone. The right half of its face was that of an expressionless young man - the right, simply a rim of burnt flesh and muscle surrounding a skull. Its feet were missing their skin completely, although they were intact enough for it to stand.
This was it, she thought. I’m going to die here, in this bed, and my husband is going to find me when he wakes up. She didn’t have a choice but to wait for the ghoul to approach her and rip her to shreds, or do who knows what else. But as the seconds turned into minutes (or at least felt like them), the being stayed still. Its expression remained neutral - no murderous glee, anger, or even sadness. It didn’t seem to want to harm her - or at least she hoped. Suddenly, the window slammed shut, and she blinked for the first time since she woke up. The figure was gone, and the window was indeed sealed, rendering the room completely silent. Her husband stirred next to her, and peered over at her as she sat there, hyperventilating, having finally regained control of her motor functions. Rather than offering comfort, though, he simply rolled back over. He had stayed up all of last night and day so they could go to bed together, and nothing was going to stop him from resting, not even his clearly distraught wife.
Even though she wanted to, she didn’t mention it over breakfast the next day. She was afraid of many things. She was scared that Adam wouldn’t believe her, and would ridicule her or take the experience as yet another jab towards his childhood home. She was afraid she was losing her mind, and didn’t want to think about it. She just had to pray that it wouldn’t happen again, and spent her day looking over her shoulder.
An accident at the factory the next evening abruptly granted Adam the night off, and they spent it watching an old romantic comedy in the living room. Diana wasn’t feeling very romantic, however - every single crack of a twig from what was probably just deer outside nearly sent her into a panic attack. Whatever that thing was, she didn’t want to see it again. She even prayed for the first time in years, simply to request that whatever foul spirit haunted her nightmares be banished. She drifted off to sleep with this as a slight comfort.
All comfort shattered immediately when she woke up in the darkness again. The being spared no time to hide in the shadows this time - Diana immediately saw it, staring out the window. It turned its head towards her, and she internally grimaced - its face was just as unsettling a sight as it was the previous night. This time, though, something about it was different - it had actual emotion on what remained of its face, even if just slightly. She saw a dull sadness, perhaps with a taste of bitterness, but she couldn’t see quite that much detail. All she knew was that whatever it was, it looked like it was hurting.
It suddenly raised its arm, and she felt a wave of cold air pass over her. She blinked, but it didn’t disappear. It stood, almost as if it was waiting for her to move towards it. To her surprise, she could - she cautiously lifted her torso up in the bed and moved the covers off of her legs, never taking her eyes off of it. Once she was out of bed, they stood and looked at each other, as if in a game of cat and mouse for who would move first. Ultimately, Diana won that competition, and the being turned and walked towards the bedroom’s door frame. It stopped mere feet from it, and turned its head back towards her, waiting for her. Everything inside of her, from her past experiences to basic survival instinct, was screaming at her not to follow it. But she somehow knew that it wasn’t going to harm her. She didn’t necessarily feel safe around it, but something compelled her to follow it.
So she did. She followed it down the stairs, and down another set into the boiler room. It led her towards a corner of the basement, and then turned around. She began looking around the room, searching for what this thing may have led her to. She tried to speak, but found herself unable to. The light coming through the window slightly shifted, and she saw a handle on the wall that matched the color of the paint surrounding it. It was a crawl space door, partially blocked by boxes and paint cans, but just barely visible. The being motioned for her to open it.
She had already made a stupid decision by following it down here, she reasoned - why should she enter a dark, dank crawlspace? This brief moment of logic and reason was quickly overridden by another voice within her head - hers still, but bearing different reasoning. “If it wanted to kill me, wouldn’t it have done so already?” she thought, and this was enough to get her to move the boxes, shift the paint cans aside, and try the door handle. It didn’t budge at first, as it was apparently sealed. After a few more violent tugs and the severing of the rubber seal surrounding the door, it violently swung open. Immediately, a foul smell permeated through the cold air, and she immediately began profusely gagging. It was a smell more horrible than anything she had ever had the misfortune of experiencing - worse than sewage, or spoiled food. It was the smell of rot.
The being was unfazed by this, and again motioned for her to go through the door, with a point from a finger that was barely attached to its decaying hand. Despite the fact that she had moments before been rolling on the ground, trying not to vomit, she again felt compelled to listen to the figure. She made her way through the tight tunnel, scraping her knees against the oddly brown-stained concrete, until she found herself in a room big enough that she could stand up. She fumbled around for a light switch, and didn’t find one. Regardless, the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling flicked on, and when the room lit up, she couldn’t hold back the sickness anymore. She vomited all over the floor before collapsing against the wall, sobbing. She was still unable to speak or scream - despite her best efforts.
Inside the room were no less than twenty corpses, all stacked in a heap in the corner. Some were almost skeletal, while some appeared fresh. Lining the walls were dozens of instruments of torture, some foreign, some disturbingly familiar. She could not believe what she was seeing - a cell of death hiding beneath her home for who knows how long. The light flickered, and the being appeared in the center of the room. In the light, she could see more of its hideous features - a slit throat, missing fingers, missing teeth from the protruding skull. It calmly walked towards her as she sobbed, preparing to join the pile. But it did not touch her. It stood over her as she opened her eyes again, and extended its decomposing hand to her.
She was baffled, to say the least. Why did this thing bring her down here? Was it the one responsible for this? If not, then who did this? Questions raced through her overwhelmed mind as she raised her head to look at it once again. As they looked at each other, she suddenly understood, and all of the questions were answered. She took its hand, and rose to her feet. It looked at her for a few more seconds, and the light flickered again. It was gone.
The next morning, Diana made breakfast in the kitchen, shaking with anticipation for when her husband would awaken. She did not get an ounce of sleep after what had happened - she spent the night cleaning her vomit from the floor and sealing the door with superglue. She was so lost in thought, thinking about what had happened, that when a hand was placed on her shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Adam spun her around and pinned her against the stove. He firmly asked what she was doing in the basement last night.
How did he know? Diana wasn’t sure, but she quickly lied about going downstairs to change the temperature on the thermostat. His grip on her shoulders eased up a bit, and she exhaled in relief - before he raised his voice. She looked at him, shocked, as he yelled at her to never go down there without him again. He turned and left the kitchen and the house, slamming the front door as he left.
The next few weeks were uneasy. Diana walked on eggshells around Adam, who refused to even look at her. She didn’t know if he had anything to do with what she found, but she did not want to believe it. Even so, his family had owned the house since it was built - who else could it have been? She tried not to think about it, and didn’t even see friends anymore, in fear that she would accidentally reveal her secret. Even on nights where he was off work, they did not sleep together - she took the spare bedroom and locked the door. She didn’t get good sleep - but she slept through the night.
One night, she woke up in the pitch black once again. The being needed no introduction, standing by her bedside and waiting for her to awaken. It began walking towards the door again, and she followed without hesitation this time - whatever it had to show her, she was ready to see it. She found herself in the basement once again, as it simply stood there and looked at her. She couldn’t say anything to it, which was fine - she didn’t have anything to say.
Suddenly, the door to the basement flew open, the lights flicked on, and Adam flew down the stairs, angrier than she had ever seen him. As she tried to back up against the wall, he grabbed her arm and began screaming at her. As he yelled in her face, she had a choice to make, and she chose to push him away. He stumbled backwards to the edge of the shadows of the basement’s darkest corners, and in that instant, a rotting hand grabbed him and violently yanked him into the darkness. The lights cut out, as shrieks and squeals echoed from the corner. Just as suddenly as they started, though, they stopped. She stood there, completely emotionless, in the pitch dark.
The basement was entirely silent, as was the outside world - the crickets were quiet, there was no wind, and the radiator had stopped humming. The moonlight seeping into the room illuminated only the floor, where a pool of crimson blood slowly grew larger. Out of the shadows stepped the being, its wet, skinned feet slapping against the concrete. It did not move towards her - it just stared.
Then, out of the one eye it still had, it began to cry. It did not make noise, but teardrops rolled down its cheeks, and the sound of them falling off of its face and into the puddle of blood became the only noise in the room. At that moment, she finally understood.
The light flicked back on, and it disappeared. She looked into the corner where her husband was dragged, and found nothing. She ascended the stairs, still in her nightgown and slippers, and opened the front door, shutting it behind her as she left.