Σternal Kappa
GUILD INFO:
https://swgoh.gg/g/SfnB9bQET4ufnBRZwbJkpQ/
Relaxed group of active and social members! Looking for positive vibes as we continue to grow!
The Eternal Empire is a family of 7 independently run guilds and home to 400 players. We support all level of players from beginners to experienced, end-game all-heroic competitors. Guild GPs range from 325M - 550M+. All active & dedicated players are welcome! We understand that life happens & take that into consideration. We share one Discord server where we have the tools, bots, resources & seasoned advice to help guide you as you progress. Our motto is: “We build together, we grow TOGETHER!”.
49/50 Members, 450M+ GP
1:30 UTC / 20:30 EST / 17:30 PST Guild Reset
REQUIREMENTS:

• 9M+ GP, exceptions can be made for the right focused roster
  
• 500 Tickets Daily
  
• Active Discord Use
  
• Active in ALL Guild Events
  

TB:
32 ⭐️ Rise of the Empire TB & 29+ Reva Shard (34 Reva Ready)
We Use EchoBot for Platoon Assignments
TW:
7-3 Record in last 10 matches We have a dedicated Discord channel for TW Adaptive strategy depending on our opponent & team readiness
RAIDS: Endor Speeder Bike Event (208M Crate)
Discord: https://discord.gg/RrKJyy42cD
JOIN THE ETERNAL EMPIRE!!!
HOW TO JOIN US: Please come to our Discord server & an Officer will help you! We want EVERYONE to succeed & are constantly looking to improve on what we're doing to help all within our collective of :eight: independently run guilds. We are an established guild with active players who are looking for like-minded, common-sense individuals to join us for the growth & benefit of all!

Σternal Kappa
GUILD INFO:
https://swgoh.gg/g/SfnB9bQET4ufnBRZwbJkpQ/
Relaxed group of active and social members! Looking for positive vibes as we continue to grow!
The Eternal Empire is a family of 7 independently run guilds and home to 400 players. We support all level of players from beginners to experienced, end-game all-heroic competitors. Guild GPs range from 325M - 550M+. All active & dedicated players are welcome! We understand that life happens & take that into consideration. We share one Discord server where we have the tools, bots, resources & seasoned advice to help guide you as you progress. Our motto is: “We build together, we grow TOGETHER!”.
49/50 Members, 480M+ GP
1:30 UTC / 20:30 EST / 17:30 PST Guild Reset
REQUIREMENTS:

• 9M+ GP, exceptions can be made for the right focused roster
  
• 500 Tickets Daily
  
• Active Discord Use
  
• Active in ALL Guild Events
  

TB:

• 32 ⭐️ Rise of the Empire TB & 29+ Reva Shard (34 Reva Ready)

We Use EchoBot for Platoon Assignments
TW:
*7-3 Record in last 10 matches We have a dedicated Discord channel for TW Adaptive strategy depending on our opponent & team readiness
RAIDS: Endor Speeder Bike Raid (208M Crate)
Discord: https://discord.gg/RrKJyy42cD
JOIN THE ETERNAL EMPIRE!!!
HOW TO JOIN US: Please come to our Discord server & an Officer will help you! We want EVERYONE to succeed & are constantly looking to improve on what we're doing to help all within our collective of :eight: independently run guilds. We are an established guild with active players who are looking for like-minded, common-sense individuals to join us for the growth & benefit of all!

Hello Apes,
Here's another review of Roaring Kitty tweets, if you wanna check out previous days then links are below:
13th May
14th May
To reiterate, the description of each tweet is to the best of my knowledge the references made to allow you to make your own view in context and the speculation is pure speculation on my part, this is just for fun and shouldn't be taken as any financial advice, make your own decisions, I just like the stock. If you have anything to add feel free to in the comments and I'll do my best to update the post but given the amount of tweets now i don't have lots of time.
8:00am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790713748866371690
Description: This is taken from the film Easy-A and shows Emma Stone walking through school catching a lot of attention looking fine and what was an A sticker in the original clip has been replaced with the Gamestop play logo. The song is Sexy Silk by Jessie J
Speculation: The stock is sexy, particularly among the younger people. What was Easy-A is now Easy-Gamestop. Looking really great in the black.
8.15am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790717515523658119
Description: First we have a scene from the movie Prestige, with a Michael Caine voiceover about a magicians magic trick of making something disappear. The quote is "The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn't clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back." Meanwhile a person with a gamestop logo is being electrocuted to life a little frankenstein like and then a Gamestop logo bursts through an explosion. We then go to a fight scene with the song "back in the saddle again" by Aerosmith playing.
Speculation: The quote from the Prestige in full talks about the different parts of making something disappear. In full " Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called "The Pledge". The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course... it probably isn't. The second act is called "The Turn". The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn't clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back. That's why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call "The Prestige"." The Aerosmith song also has some interesting lyrics, "Ridin' into town alone by the light of the moon" "I'm ridin', I'm loadin' up my pistol, I'm ridin', I really got a fistful, I'm ridin', I'm shinin' up my saddle, I'm ridin', this snake is gonna rattle"
8.30am - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790721293089964126
Description: Not sure what film this is from but essentially we have a group of people looking for someone who is messing with them, they come across the infamous meme of death looking for Gamestop and then they track down Roaring Kitty alongside 893489 CHIMP located in Boston. We then get a message of Prep mode and arm ready for transport, hold pattern until further notice and a message again on a watch saying the same with a Gamestop logo
Speculation: WS looking for DFV and just coming across more memes, not really understanding it. As pointed out by many, 893489 is the hexcode for purple https://www.colorhexa.com/893489 which could be a direct reference to people DRSing. Final message suggests it's a hold until further notice, potentially a gamestop announcement who knows?
8.45am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790725065585439065
Description: We have a scene from Ozark where the wife of the money laundering family is alone in her bedroom reflecting to the sound of The Daily Mail by Radiohead. Some Gamestop logos on the wall which i think replace a picture of her family in the original clip. More reflection.
Speculation: Not sure about this one other than the family in Ozark were right on the line of legality when it came to what they were doing, essentially they were money laundering and in the end it cost them their family. SHFs messing with Gamestop to the point of legality could be what costs them their family of investors?
9.00am - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790728848226521547
Description: This is a famous scene from Star Wars where Han Solo takes them through the asteroid field despite C3-PO's cry that the odds are so greatly stacked against them, approximately 3720-1 to be exact! "Never tell me the odds" says Hans Solo. The Song Come Along by Cosmo Sheldrake comes on as the ship navigates it's way through.
Speculation: This play is a high risk play as we all know but DFV doesn't care about the odds, so many people have told him how crazy he is but that doesn't stop him absolutely nailing it. The song has some interesting lyrics to pick a few, "Don't let moments pass along, And waste before your eyes", "We'll be here when the world slows down, And the sunbeams fade away, Keeping time by a pendulum, As the fabric starts to fray" Full lyrics here
9.15am - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790732615022195139
Description: This is taken from The Chappelle Show "when keeping it real goes wrong". In this sketch Kitty replaces a lot of the words to relate to him and the scene ends with Wu-Tang being brought up.
Speculation: Really i think this is just DFV having some fun with this sketch, replacing the woofs for meows, it brings up Wu-Tang as well which was a talking point way back in the NFT marketplace chat.
9.30am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790736391124774975
Description: We have a clip of Moon Knight from Fortnite alongside the song Day and Night by Kid Cudi. This is the official fortnite music video.
Speculation: The Moon Knight in fortnite is considered a rare character. In fact the last time the Moon Knight was in the fortnite shop was Nov29, 2023. With that, it's a very valuable and sort after skin. Also worth noting about the Moon Knight, "For a quick run-down: Moon Knight is actually a former mercenary named Marc Spector. One day, when he's left for dead in the desert, the ancient Egyptian moon god Khonsu revives him. Along with a new lease on life, Khonsu gifts Marc with god-like powers to fight evil". Take from that what you will.
9.45am - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790740164848861227
Description: Not 100% sure on the cartoon being shown but the rap is Mr. Niceguy by Will Smith.
Speculation: I don't think DFV is liking the public dissing he is getting from various media outlets but really he doesn't care that much as he can just nail some memes he has lined up like this. If you want the full lyrics to the song, you can find it here
10am - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790743946764644659
Description: This is the epic reveal in fight club and DFV has replaced a lot of the words. In the original scene, if you haven't watched fight club, the main protagonist has put the pieces together to realise that he himself is actually the same person as the other protagonist in the film and it was him alone that accidentally setup a sort of movement against the financial elite. In this clip DFV plays off the two characters between DFV and Roaring Kitty.
Speculation: Roaring Kitty was the twitter handle and Youtube profile for Keith Gill where he would speculate on the stock because he just loved doing it. DFV was the reddit handle where he is associated to that other sub i can't mention here but you know where i mean. I think that DFV is saying that what started as a fun speculation of the stock became something bigger than himself with his other channel in DFV on reddit. Now the wheels have moved and in the film it ends with the financial institutions being blown up, perhaps something similar metaphorically is already in place right now. It's actually a great analogy from DFV about his situation.
10.15am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790747714440892825
Description: This is the scene in Breaking Bad where Walter comes clean to his wife Skylar about all the money he has made selling meth. Skylar sees him for who he really is in this scene and really it's the beginning of when Walter begins to really lose himself. There is a funny insert of Methamphetameme and a mention of Caroline who i believe is his wife in real life.
Speculation: I think this is just DFV having some fun and giving an idea of how nuts it probably was for him to talk to his wife about everything that has happened/is happening. I know to us DFV seems like some sort of oracle but to many people he would just seem like some of stock bro who is nuts, even his wife.
10.30am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790751492451754012
Description: This is from the oceans 11 film again where the gang are discussing about what they are and how they have come to be. DFV inserts "the Cohen crunch" as what everything could be called and also says "One could make the argument that because it was in fact Cohen joining the board that seemed to kick things off maybe it should be...". DFV then has a big reveal of the reddit user u/ avocado-in-my-anus.
Speculation: Is this all about Ryan Cohen? Is it about DFV? Is it about the Squeeze? Or is it about Avocado in my anus!? - If you follow to that reddit user you will see 3 posts, all on October 29th of each of the last 3 years, all saying Happy Cat Day posted to 3 different subreddits, "never tell me the odds", "next fucking level" and "woah dude". Why is october 29th so significant? See for yourself here
10.45am - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790755264733626879
Description: First we have a clip taken from CNBC where they say "is Roaring Kitty the one running this company?". It then cuts to a classic superbad scene of lots of dicks being drawn.
Speculation: I would imagine CNBC's angle here is that in their opinion Roaring Kitty is the one helping the stock so much with his influence that he might as well be running the company. Judging by the fact we go to a load of dicks after that I don't think DFV agrees with that opinion...
11am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790759048985612468
Description: This is taken from The Avengers Endgame and it's where Peter Quill and Thor are told they should fight one another for the honour of the leadership of the Guardians of the Galaxy. They reply they don't want to go against each other and then there is a little humored ambigurity over who is in charge.
Speculation: This could be about DFV and RC. Not 100% which one is which but DFV is saying they are on the same side and respect each other in their view on what is best for Gamestop. DFV conceding he isn't in charge here and sort of plays into the last meme.
11.15am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790762813868175516
Description: This is a scene taken from Love Actually and you will most likely recognize Rick from The Walking Dead. In the original clip he is filming his best friend (and it turns out he actually is in love with his best friends wife in this film). It then cuts to some memes of Ryan Cohen and a clip from his stream about updating thesis regularly.
Speculation: I think this is summed up pretty well by u/ starhammer4billion. "In 2021, DFV was mad, that R.C. did not push the button/do the buyback and told us clearly that he did not like R.C. anymore with this meme. Now in 2024, he rewinds that meme and tells us, that he thought that at the time in 2021, but that the investment thesis evolved over time and he now sees R.C. as a supermodel. So basically he saw what R.C. was doing in 2024, which he did not in 2021 and he likes R.C. again now. Probably because R.C. pushed the button and also did some plan with loopholes and stuff that DFV may not have thought about."
11.30am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790766591526735887
Description: Here we have a clip from the music video Gossip Folks by Missy Elliot. Some of the lyrics have been replaced by Roaring Kitty. It tells the story of DFV and then there is a ton of emojis that read 😳💩😿🥜🐸🍦🤢👍👊💀🥸👀🤩⚡️🎮🚀🍄💥🍏🤨😵‍💫💜🫂👌🤝⛺️😼🎯👀🐶🇺🇸🎤👀🔥💥🍻
Speculation: DFV is saying this is going to go down again 3 years later after it all went down last time. The emojis i think tell the story so far too and maybe what's to come. I'll try my best to elaborate - it's really tinfoil but why not.

• DFV a bit embarrassed by how much it all took off originally, he was the focus of the world in Jan21 (embarrassed)
• All went to poo as GME dumped with the cheating tactics of the elite (poo)
• Sad kitty had to go to court and defend himself just because he was right and liked the stock. (sad kitty)
• Showed he had absolute nuts by doubling down on the stock again. (nuts)
• Papa RC posted frog and ice cream just around the time he was announced as chairman, the turnaround well and truly underway (frog and ice cream)
• Not sure about the sick emoji
• GME looking good again and making gains later into 21 (thumbs up and fist pump)
• DFV gets killed off from communicating and stock tanks, bear thesis in full swing about GME (skull)
• DD research is in full swing over what's happening to the stock and DFV is looking at it like oi oi (invetigating and eyes)
• DD gets everyone focused again and loving the stock, GME, power to the players and convinced it's going to do great again (star eyes, lightning, game, rocket)
• GME grows in the dark without revealing it's plan for transformation (mushroom)
• GME runs big end of 2022, all anticipation about NFT marketplace etc etc (boom)
• RC buying into apple and people wondering about some sort of partnership (apple)
• Turns out nothing like that happening as people wait for announcements (straight face)
• NFT marketplace is a disaster and not what people were hoping for (dizzy face)
• People start DRSing (purple heart)
• Love in the community is in full flow again as post after post about DRSing shares (hug)
• Everything is ok and all agreed on the DD and DRSing, happy to wait it out (ok and handshake)
• Not sure about tent.
• DFV comes back (kitty)
• Sees an opportunity to target the shorts again (target)
• Looks to Ryan Cohen, former owner of chewy to make a move (eye emoji in original looks to the right, dog emoji)
• Big announcement (microphone)
• US market sees this and burns to the ground (US flag and fire)
• Squeeze happens (boom)
• Cheers everybody (beers)

Edit\* As pointed out by u/ mmilad https://www.reddit.com/Superstonk/comments/1ctc9g2/dfvs_tweet_yesterday_with_emojis_are_all_rcs/ - they emojis do run in a sort of chronological order to a lot of RC's tweets, if you go to his twitter page and scroll through from his first tweet you can begin to tick off the emojis one by one.
11.45am - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790770363627921776
Description: We have a pizza being cut in too more and more slices and dubbed onto the pizza are reddit awards along with DFV's last position update post.
Speculation: The amount of awards that were constantly being given to this post got so out of hand i can't even think how many notifications and reddit coins DFV must have got back in the day. Definitely a joke on DFV's part and just a reminder to how funny it was the amount of awards he was getting.
12pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790774146994966570
Description: This clip is taken from Spiderman i think the one where Spiderman goes dark but i can't remember exactly. The music is The Black Swan taken from Swan lake and it cuts to the movie of Swan Lake with Natalie Portman as the Black Swan and Kitty being dubbed on her face as she transforms.
Speculation: Black swan events are defined as "A black swan is an unpredictable event that is beyond what is normally expected from a situation and that has potentially severe consequences". When GME does squeeze, it's going to have severe and brutal consequences for the market.
12:15pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790777913245421806
Description: First we have Snoop Dogg in his music video for Gin and Juice talking about drama in the GME then we cut to Scarlet Envy saying "is it me, am i the drama", "am i the villain?"
Speculation: Just DFV having fun with all the drama that is being caused through GME, through his memes and everything in a fun light hearted DFV meme of way.
12:30pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790781688848450012
Description: The first clip is taken from Oceans 12 where Ryan is bring the gang back together for an even bigger heist of casinos. Then we have part of the heist where he is stuck waiting in the dining cabinet and cannot escape until they let him out, then we cut to 2 people talking, "waiting", "for what?", "for this". Finally we cut to Batman, i think in the Dark Knight where the Joker is in the hospital and plans to blow it up.
Speculation: Bigger squeeze than last time, band back together, GME holders for the last 3 years could be like the guy in the box just let out in time by DFV, we say "where the fck you been?", he has been waiting, waiting for this.
12.45pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790785463118348420
Description: This is taken from The Dark Knight rises where Bane states "it doesn't matter who we are, what matters is our plan", "no one cared who i was until I put on the mask", "was getting caught part of your plan?" "of course"
Speculation: This is taken online about Bane in this movie, "Everything that Bane did was never for himself, not really, we find out his real loyalty later and I think that is a big reason why he said who he is wasn’t important. He wasn’t there to impress the masses, he was there to execute a plan, to be the playmaker for a person he cared for. He wasn’t one who liked distractions and the concern over who he was, I took it as he saw as unimportant to what the plan was itself" DFV doesn't matter, the whole thing is bigger than him now, similar to the fight club tweet reference.
1pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790789242513433071
Description: This clip is the big reveal in The Usual Suspects. BIG SPOILER HERE TO THE FILM - The police chief realizes in the film that he has just been completely done by the person who actually committed the crime and he was right there all along in the station . In this clip the drawn sketch of the suspect is replaced with the 'ill do it again' meme.
Speculation: The mug has roaring kitty on it so I wonder if this really is DFV noticing a similar pattern to what is happening with the stock as to what happened before and has made that realization that it's time to come back and this is all on again. HF's digging the same hole for themselves.
1.15pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790793012936851665
Description: This is a clip showing Keith Gill and a narrator saying that investors were looking for someone to blame for losing big on Gamestop. Then it cuts to "shut up bitch" from The Rock in WWF.
Speculation: This is a lol meme and basically DFV saying people invest themselves it's not his problem. People did try to sue him if i remember so it's a bit of a fuck you to them.
1:30pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790796790360363016
Description: This is taken from Seinfeld and is about how George goes so far just to zing a guy. DFV replaces some words and makes this about the previous tweet, some more fun on his part.
Speculation: The episode i believe this takes place is called "The Money" and the episode in which George actually flies out is called "The Comeback", jokes aside that's some interesting references...
1:45pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790800562654691686
Description: This is taken from the Saturday Night Live sketch 'old friend'. It's about two old friends reconnecting, DFV expertly chooses this and only has to change the last name of the Keith in the sketch.
Speculation: Everyone thinks DFV is nuts, i mean the guy is posting a lot of memes and taking away my work mornings trying to understand them. Maybe he just loves memes, who knows?
2pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790804340673789978
Description: This is a video of beat saber to the song freaks by timmy trumpet and savage. "The bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war", "the mighty trumpet brings the freaks out to the floor", "where the freaks at?". Big tune and then the vibing cat makes an appearance.
Speculation: Hard to say much about this other than it's a fun song and makes you vibe just like the cat. People are coming to twitter to see his memes and we are all vibing out off of it.
2.15pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790808112741630320
Description: Shows a man being followed around by a man in a suit with a red right hand. I'm not sure what this is taken from but the song is definitely Red Right Hand by Nick Cave and the Bad seeds. For me personally this song is most associated with The Peeky Blinders.
Speculation: The man could be anyone short on GME and the man following him making him scared could be DFV or whatever else is going to pound on those shorts. If you want the lyrics to the song then you can find them here
2.31pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790812277530034448
Description: Shows a bear on a pink recliner with a kitty sneaking in the background.
Speculation: This was a direct response to a Jim Cramer tweet who was essentially poking fun at DFV by saying he should make more memes as it's not working on helping GME. Worth noting that this doesn't look like a scheduled tweet and was probably not planned.
2:45pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790815662203617755
Description: Shows Jim Carrey not 100% which movie it is though i recognize it with a red graph overlayed showing the stock price going down. His smile deteriorates but he seems to have some sort of demented plan in a weird way.
Speculation: Stock might be going down and that might initially take the smile off but the creepy smile at the end shows that it doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, they are going to get it by the end.
3:00pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790819440617033914
Description: This is taken from the Truman show where Jim Carrey plays a character who's whole life is a television show for everyone else to watch. He is unaware of this but starts to become more aware as the film goes on. This particular clip is where he is trying to get to the edge of the world to see behind the curtain and the director is trying to stop him with lightning strikes and storms and whatever else he can throw.
Speculation: They are doing everything they can to keep a lid on GME. Firing as many shots as they can but it's not working. Is this the best they have?
3.15pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790823211745063394
Description: This is a clip from Dunkey's best games of 2017 and here we see a game where it's just boss fight after boss fight and is really fun.
Speculation: This is a game for us, they can hammer down the stock and do what they want but GME holders just keep buying more and moving to the next level
3.30pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790826988019528035
Description: This is taken from Tenet and is about inverted bullets. It talks about being able to drop bullets and bring bullets back up and move bullets without touching them.
Speculation: I certainly don't understand even a little of what is going on with the stock, but you can still have a feel for what is happening with the stock and it feels good right now even with the dip. Could be something to do with inverse hedging but don't know enough about that to speculate.
3.45pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790830761542664192
Description: Firstly we have the Matrix where Neo is about to fight Morpheus and then we have Alice in Wonderland with Alice going down into the rabbit hole. (The rabbit hole is mentioned in the Matrix too when Neo is given the pill option).
Speculation: The scene where Neo fights Morpheus is really the first time we start to see Neo believe in his ability to be the chosen one but also understand the power being able to beat the matrix. With the Alice in Wonderland it's about seeing how far the rabbit hole goes, things will get more crazy for sure and we are going to find out just how deep this goes.
4:00pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790834536403574936
Description: Here we have the music video for Karma police by Radiohead. A man is running from a car at a hobble speed and then stops turns around and there is a trail of fuel heading towards the car that has stopped. He pulls out a box of matches from his back pocket and is just before to set the car alight by dropping a lit match on the fuel.
Speculation: Another Radiohead song, you can find the full lyrics here but to pick a line out "this is what you get when you mess with us". Whilst being slowly chased down, there is going to be a flip reverse based on the trail left by the shorts only to blow it all up.
8:00pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790894938277695671
Description: This is taken from the Shawshank redemption where the main protagonist has escaped from the prison after being wrongly imprisoned for many years. DFV has changed some of the narrators (Red) words in showcase his story of being wrongly accused in 2021 and having the flee out of the spotlight. He talks about pressure and time, he presents a lot of memes he has created over the years and then shows a particular screenshot of one of his streams.
Speculation: This tells DFVs story but also has some juicy parts. I think Red in this is a bit like the reddit crew (us) keeping tabs on his story but DFV is saying to escape like him it takes pressure and time (could be gamma squeeze, could be LEAPS, could be DRS, could be holding and buying, could be ALL of it) but all it takes is time and pressure. The memes he posted i wonder if some of those have found their way into various subs over the last 3 years without any of us knowing it came from DFV. The steam he screenshot has been spoken about a lot this morning but it seems to come from one of his youtube streams when GME last broke $30.
Hope you enjoyed these takes.
Love ya DFV

I'm sorry I made you upset by ghosting you, but I can't fucking do this shit over and over again. You have no filter. You say honestly heinous things in view of others, and I tell you to stop and you never listen. Whenever I ask you to stop doing something because it's uncomfortable for me, you cry and I feel bad. Ive learnt to just never bring up when things make me stressed because of you.
You can be violent. When you snapped that ruler and sent a shard of plastic at my neck, when someone slightly inconveniences you, you threaten them with torture.
There's nothing between us anymore. Over the years I've changed and matured, I have little in common with the boy you became friends with all those years ago. I'm a different person now. You've stayed the same, you still act like your 9.
Ever since I met new people and developed friendships with them, I realized how fucking toxic you are. I'm sorry I hurt you by cutting contact but it's so hard to keep going like this.
The people I talk with are understanding. They have filters, they are reasonable and I feel like I'm part of a group. With you I feel like a therapist and punching bag.
I hope you grow and mature. Maybe, once you've changed we can talk again, but for now I'm leaving.

Looking for Ideas for my next Campaign
Heyo everyone,
First of all, thank you wonderful people for joining me here. Firstly a short Overview of the setting, some ideas for the story and then i will throw a few extras in at the end. Would be happy to hear everyones thoughts to all of this, what you love or hate, what kind of cool and crazy ideas you have for me and yeah thats it actually :D Lets get into it.
System: i will be using the Cypher system, as it gives me the Narative focus with plenty of customization and adaptiblity. I havent been doing too much with it yet, but i really like it already from readying and listening a bit to plays.
Setting: This is where it gets mythical. So imagine a world just like ours. Actually exactly our world. A few years in the future some archelogists and divers find Pandoras Box hidden on a greek island in an underwater cave with plenty of warning. and even logbook with it. Its Odyseus's logbook, in which he mentioned he trapped all the gods and magic in that box with the help of Circe and a few of the other more benevolent gods. Thus started the golden age of humanity where they didnt have to worry about annoying a bunch of superpowerful self absorbed mythical assholes on Olympus.
Surprisingly, the archelogists actually listened to Odyseus warning and decided that some mysteries might be better left unsolved. The box was left open to allow the world the speculate. Not long after that, the box was the most important and most talked about object in the world. It even went on a world tour through the biggest museums. That was until it arrived in America. In the years since 2024, interest in Social media and influencers only increased, causing people to do anything for clicks and likes. And one particular idiot went as far as sneaking a gun into a museum to shoot open pandoras box live on Stream.
Not long after that, 90% of the world population died. As the contained magic exploded forth and spread across the world in light speed, it wrecked havoc across the whole world, changing the land, the animals and the people. Monsters reappered, The gods made their anger at their imprisonment clear to anyone they could and the world offically ended on that day.
Now, 40 days in the future, North America is a wasteland generally regarded as inhabitable due to the high concentration of Mana there, which is toxic to Humans. Most people live in Europe, Africa, Asia and australia, or whats left of it anyways. Famine and war are standard. Some people are training to use magic themselves, others devote themselves to hunting the new monsters for their rare parts, others integrate magic into technology for wonderous creations and most just try to survive in small communities. Most people avoid the gods at all cost, some have formed into cults for them while the rare few attempt to rebel (which often ends in gruesome deaths).
Now the players find themselves in a familar yet unknown world, Magic everywhere to be found, Horrible creatures ready to feast on them around each corner, Ruined cities promising loot and danger, Technology growing rapidly thanks to magic and Powerful beings toying with them for their amusement.
Adventure: So I want to sent the players to North america as part of a huge strikeforce to retrieve a part of pandoras box for study to maybe capture the gods again. obviously this will be a huge secret, they will think its to retrieve vital knowledge to fight a spreading plague as will most of the expiditions members to avoid the eyes of the gods. They will be teleported to America through a new device, but will be forced to travel back on their own accord. Which will lead them to a container ship that holds their strikeforce and some survivors they will find to travel back over the ocean. TIME FOR AN ODYSEE. Everything will go wrong on the trip, i wanna challange the players with impossible emotional choices like maybe during a famine on board some passangers will eat the dead. Should they be punished? Or when the ship is hit by a monster, should we seal a part of the ship to prevent more of the ship taking in water, even if most people couldnt evacuate yet.
I want the players to distinguish themselves during their time in NA to allow them to tale the command of the ship, maybe the commander of the expdition is heavily wounded ( dont want to kill them off, because someone gotta reveal they carry a shard of the box with them). That way all of the decision will be upon them.
I want them to also meet poseidon, who will be their main villain. He will attack them multiple times and the only way they will survive is often with big casualties, with help of other gods or magical artifacts. Other gods will be involved too. Maybe someone from the backgrounds of the player gets involved to murder them. And the two gods trying to kill them , with the bickering giving them a way to escape. In the end they can either kill a god using the piece of the box, or bring the piece home for future use. Will they be able to protect themselves and their people from poseidon, or do they have to strike his heart with their piece of pandoras box. When presented with an opportunity to kill another god, the god who hurt the players the most by killing family and friends, will they take this chance or will they be able to control their rage.
I want to leave this very open ended, just with many encounters ready to go if the opportunity present itself.
And i have to say, Epic: the musical was a big part of the inspiration, just want to give credit where its due. Absolutly amazing.
Here id be happy to hear your ideas. Anything is fine, good or bad opinions. Really just collecting thoughts now.
Some other cool things about the world i will include: Shades: when people were hit by the explosion of mana from the opening of the box, most disintegrated instantly. Some left behind a shade made of pure mana. Those shades are like ghosts on autopilot that follow the routine of the person that it once was. They are usually neutral just doing their thing, but if they sense a disturbance to their regular routine, they will react hostile. As incorperal beings they are incredibly difficult to stop unless you possess magic. They will use the mana inside them to overload you and kill you slow and painfully
Mana/magic: so mana is plentiful and everywhere. It can be used to cast spells and empower oneself. How to do this, is a difficult skill the players will learn during their adventure. The only problem is that mana is toxic to humans as our bodies evolved something like mana allergy. Players can cast spells from their internal force as well if they have one (like divine power born with or purified mana they gained through meditation) so caster classes have a few safe options. But in the end, i want players to pursue a game of risk and reward, by drawing on the mana around them, giving them abilities but also causing many negative effects.

When I was three years old I was in a really bad car accident. I didn't know it at the time, but that singular event would come to define everything about my life moving forward. What I remember about the accident is mostly a collage of backdated comments I was able to reel out of my father in the following years. He was driving me and my mom in his old '91 Chevy Tahoe through the twisting backroads of Southern Illinois, weaving his way through the gnarled branches of oak trees which interlocked into a braided ceiling overhead. A fog had rolled in, giving the impression that we were driving through a cloudy tube. Everything was simultaneously bright and opaque. I didn't mind though, as I was in the back seat working on a coloring book. My mom was in the front, talking with my dad or turning around to entertain my completed pictures.
Although I was of the age where my memory was just beginning to mature, I still recall two things very clearly from the accident. First was the sensation of breaking. I remember feeling the way a plate must feel to be dropped: weightless at first, then suddenly meeting a much larger, more solid object—the air popped like a firecracker, and the entirety of my body shattered into hundreds of fractals. And then I remember a hand. It was my dad's hand pulling me from the wreck.
I ended up hospitalized for weeks after the crash. My mom was less lucky. The impact had killed her instantly.
As I've alluded to, I was young, and at the time I didn't fully understand the implications of what had happened. I knew something was missing, but it was like a word on the tip of my tongue, or the forgotten vanilla in a cherished cake recipe—coloring my experience, but not the whole of it. Not like my dad. For him, it was the whole fucking cake. He had somehow made it out with only a few scratches. I'm sure he had a really bad case of survivor's guilt, and frankly, looking back, I wouldn't have blamed him if he slumped into despair and spent his days drinking away his sorrow. But he wasn't that type of man. He got help. It took him years before he was able to recall anything that happened that morning, and most of it is still repressed, but he shared with me what he could. Or at least that's what I had thought.
My dad was a Middle School teacher since before I was born, and he kept his job until very recently. As a result, we didn't have much by way of resources. I grew up on Disney Channel and TV dinners for the most part, but I didn't mind. When I became of school age, his job actually made caring for me pretty convenient. Since our Elementary and Middle schools were connected, he was able to drive me there and back each day.
It was around third or fourth grade that I realized I was different. I didn't understand the other children or even the adults most of the time. They would say things then immediately change their mind, or they would talk about something and in the next breath forget its existence entirely. I remember one day at lunch, I had just gotten my tray of hot food and sat down with some friends. One of the kids, Alex, was talking about a stuffed bird he had won for getting first place in Mr. Curtis's pop-up math competition. We were all admiring its blue wings and white belly and sharp black beak and beady eyes. I left mid-conversation to get a chocolate milk. When I came back, I asked to see the bird again, and Alex said "what bird?" I was perplexed. "The bird—the bluejay you were just showing us." I remember all of the other kids looking at me like I was crazy. I figured they were all playing a trick on me, so I got up and went over to Alex's seat and crouched down, looking under the table, then I sprung up and tried to open his lunchbox. "What are you doing!?" he yelled. I felt so confused and embarrassed that I ran to the bathroom to cry.
And then there was another time a group of kids were laughing about a joke one of the girls, Taylor, had made about our homeroom teacher's face looking like a seal. I knew it was mean, but at the time I just wanted to fit in so I played along, but when I made a comment about her resemblance to the semi-aquatic animal, they all looked at me confused. "What are you talking about? We never said that…"
These misattributions kept happening, and it led to me being ostracized from most of the little childish cliques that popped up. I developed a quasi-standoffish temperament which I used as a shield against a chaotic world that I didn't understand. My dad eventually had me tested for ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder), but I passed the test. He asked if I wanted to move to a different town with different schoolmates, thinking that perhaps I was getting bullied, but I told him it was fine. Somewhere deep down I felt like no matter where I went, this problem would follow me.
You may think that I was simply coping with the absence of my mom, and while I'm sure that her absence has left certain holes in my life, kindly, no, that wasn't what was happening. You see, at first I didn't notice the instances of what I'll call "blinking". I simply thought that I was misremembering things: objects, words, events. They were all little things anyway. A bird, a joke, my pencil box. It wasn't until sixth grade that I realized the magnitude of the phenomenon.
I was in my dad's 6th grade Social Studies class and we had just been assigned our "Ancient Civilizations" project which involved creating a diorama of our chosen civilization and presenting its features to the class. My friend at the time, Claire, had taken my first choice of Ancient Rome (which we had a heated argument about at lunch), so I was left with Ancient Egypt. At the time, all I pictured for Egypt was a plate of sand. However, my dad and I went through some illustrated history books and pictures on the internet and he really built up the project for me.
Over the course of a couple months, he helped me shape three pyramids out of small wooden planks and a bunch of tan clay. We placed them in the center of a giant square shoebox lid which served as the container for the diorama. Then he bought some small wooden mannequin puppets and we dressed them up in cloth clothes (mostly kilts and tunics) and colored their eyes, mouths, and hair. We added a few obelisks and some small box-huts which were collected into a little village around the Nile. Finally, we added a light glaze of glue where we felt would be necessary and then covered the whole project with golden glitter.
As we worked on each part of the diorama, my dad helped me understand what we were adding and why it was important to Ancient Egypt. I loved the way he talked about history. He spun everything into a miraculous story. To this day, I don't think I've ever had a teacher who came close to his level of charisma and creativity. As a result, I became really proud of my diorama. I memorized all the little details and rehearsed my speech in front of the mirror for hours leading up to the last couple weeks of class. And then, two days before I was supposed to give my presentation, everything fell apart.
First, I need to apologize for deceiving you about an aspect of my story. I thought it might help you to understand what I was going through at the time. What I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane. I get that. But please hear me out. The truth is that I was never assigned to present on Ancient Egypt; everything else about Clair taking my first pick and dad helping me with the whole project and my excitement leading up to the presentation was all true, but it wasn't a project on Ancient Egypt, it was a project on Ancient Sidovan, which was a civilization located on the eighth continent called "Catalan" (the same name as the spoken language, but unrelated) which was due West of Australia in the Indian Ocean.
I know this sounds incredible, and if you want to believe it's all in my head, I get that, but I remember clearly all sorts of facts about it: the Malagasy, the same people who populated Madagascar, were the first peoples to discover Catalan and settle it. However, about five hundred years later, Indian ships would arrive and create the civilization known as Sidovan. A pidgin language formed between the indigenous population and new arriving Indians called "Hiesa" (pronounced: Hai-E-suh or Hai-ʔ-suh). Catalan had a warm climate with plenty of natural resources, but Sidovan had a dense enough population to require agricultural production. They grew rice, grain, sugarcane, vegetables, and even tobacco.
I remembered all of these facts and more. My diorama reflected the main features of the Sidovan civilization. And then two days before my presentation, I woke up and my diorama was entirely different. The hilly grasslands were traded out for sandy dunes. The Hindu statues and stone palaces became clay pyramids and large spear-like pillars. And everything was covered with the ickiest yellow glitter I had ever seen. Tears stung my eyes as I trampled over to my dad's room and banged on his door. "Dad! What did you do!?" I yelled.
"Honey?" He responded, rushing over to the base of the stairs. "What's wrong?"
"The diorama. It's ruined!"
"It's what?" he asked and ran up the stairs, leading me to my room. He looked over it for a few seconds, checking to see if everything was intact, then said, "I don't see it, honey. Where is it ruined?"
I was completely dumb-struck. What did he mean he didn't see it? "All of it!" I shouted. "The whole thing is wrong. Where's the grass and the stone buildings and the lady with the four arms and the elephants? Where is my project!?"
My dad looked at me in silence. "Lauren, baby, what civilization do you think you were working on?"
"Ancient Sidovan, of course! We've been working on this for months now! Dad, please tell me you remember."
He knelt down and put his hands on my shoulders. "Honey, your project was on Ancient Egypt. There is no Ancient Sidovan."
"Y-you're lying." I protested. "Books, you have books. On your bookshelf."
He took me into his study and showed me all of his books. None of them were on Ancient Sidovan. He even turned on his computer and typed in the name of the civilization, but all that came up was a near match "Sidon". I remember feeling the sudden urge to puke. My entire body felt like it was pumping battery acid instead of blood. "I—I don't," I started but suddenly my head felt very light, and I fainted.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I had lost consciousness for over half an hour, enough time for my dad to call 9-1-1 and have the ambulance transport me to the nearest ER. They ran all sorts of tests on me, but they all came back fine. After a couple hours of IV fluids and monitoring, they released me with my dad.
I ended up skipping the rest of school that week. My dad didn't make me present my diorama. In fact, he never brought the subject up again. Part of me was glad. I just wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened. But another part of me couldn't move past what was clearly the most absurd thing to ever happen to me. About a week after the incident, I tried to broach the subject, but when I asked my dad about it, he didn't seem to remember our conversation at all. He said I had fallen ill and that's why I needed to go to the ER and miss class. I felt like I was going crazy. If I was older, I probably would have voluntarily checked myself into a psychiatric ward. But I was young and helpless and alone, and I decided that if I just ignored the changes well enough, I could still get along. This proved difficult though, as the blinking would only exacerbate in the coming months.
Up until the time of the project, I hadn't been able to directly observe the phenomenon. It was always in retrospect that things disappeared. It was during the summer after sixth grade that this changed. I still remember the first time it happened. I had just gotten out of the shower and was drying my hair in front of the mirror. After it was dried, I threw on my clothes then went to tie my hair up in a ponytail, but as I went to set the elastic tie, I felt its weight dissipate in my hand. I gasped and held my hand out. The circular black band was gone.
Fast forward to seventh grade and the blinking had spiraled out of control. Reflecting back on it, most people would probably have assumed I was drinking psilocybin-infused water, as the delusions were somewhat consistent with psychedelic phenomena: except these distortions were real (at least they felt that way to me).
I'd wake up and grab the box of Special K but end up eating Cheerios. The McDonalds logo would look yellow and red one day, but purple and black the next. I'd be watching a show, and then a different show, and then a different one. It was as if the entire universe was a Christmas tree with millions of lights, and the lights kept shifting hues randomly, faster and faster, and I was the only one who could see their changing colors. I remember one night my dad made spaghetti for dinner and we went out onto the porch to eat it. While we were sitting, I saw our neighbor's house, a two story townhome, blink and become a single story bungalow. I gasped, and my dad asked what was wrong, but when I tried to explain he just gave me a strange look. For him, no matter what changed, the world was "always that way". While for me, it didn't have "a way".
The situation peaked when Clair, that friend I mentioned before, disappeared. I texted her (my dad had bought me a BlackBerry at the beginning of summer break) but didn't get a response. When I asked her other friends if they knew where she was, I got the usual "what are you talking about?" look. I knew right away what had happened, even though I didn't want to believe it. I went to the teacher and asked if there was a Clair in our class. She said "no". I broke down in front of everyone. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran out of school. The lady at the front desk tried to stop me, but I just barrelled past her. I kept running until I got to a big park across the street and bawled my eyes out until the police arrived and escorted me home. When they tried asking me what was wrong, I didn't say anything. There was literally nothing I could say that they would understand.
That night I prayed to God for the first time. My dad wasn't a religious man. He went to Catholic church with my mom when she was alive, but after she died he never went back. Still, I knew how to pray, even if I never did it. I copied some of the people I saw praying in movies and interlocked my fingers and knelt down on my bed, stuffing my head into a pillow. "Dear God," I said, "Please, please, please help me." I told Him about my struggles and asked Him to make them stop. I spent an hour saying the same things over and over again. And when I was finished, my little body was so tired, I fell right to sleep.
I knew something was different the second I opened my eyelids. I didn't only feel relieved, but I felt… embraced. I felt like someone was watching over me. I felt like I wasn't alone. I moved through my day with cautious apprehension. I didn't want to get my hopes up only to be let down. But to my surprise, the blinking had stopped. At least I couldn't remember any of the inconsistencies, and to me, that was a win. I began to pray regularly, and the more I did, the more I could feel the sense that someone was looking out for me. It was like I was getting a big hug from some cosmic force that loved me and wanted me to be happy.
I made it a habit to pray regularly. I asked my dad if he could take me to a church, and he agreed to take me to St. Mark's, the same church that he and my mom used to attend. Over time, I realized that the actual church services weren't as important to me as the praying. For whatever reason, there was something about praying that was like a glue for my brain, holding the entire universe together. As I got older, I considered that maybe it wasn't that the changes were no longer happening, but that I simply didn't see them anymore. In other words, maybe I was just becoming like everyone else. Either way, I didn't mind.
In my teenage years, I got into mindfulness meditation. I thought that I'd want to go into religious studies and become a theologian, so I started to learn about Eastern traditions in addition to Christianity. I joined a bunch of different school clubs to meet kids of different faiths: Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam. I tried to find a common thread which linked them all and would explain what happened to me as a child. The metaphors of Heaven and Hell, Good and Evil, the Taoist Yin and Yang—duality. Every religion seemed to speak about a way of being that would lead to a better place. In some cases that better place was a physical future existence, and in others it was merely being in contact with the perfection of nature or the present. Metaphorically, the teachings could explain what I had gone through in a kind of loose way, but there were no explicit statements about my condition.
***
I want to fast forward to why I've decided to write about this now. To give you an idea of where I'm at, I'm now 25 and working on finishing my MA in Computational Linguistics. I know that's a bit of a switch from what I was thinking when I was a teenager, but I really only interested in religion because of the value praying afforded me as a child. I didn't actually have much interest in the subject, itself. After my first year of college, I changed to an English major, which ultimately led to me taking a linguistics class and enjoying it so much that I switched tracks in my Junior year. Considering the state of the world, I thought minoring in Computer Science might help me financially in the future, so I ended up charting a path which I figured might lead to something like developing translation software.
Anyway, everything was going fine until a few weeks ago. I was out at an all-night diner with a few of my friends from the program. There was Jeremy, Martin, Bella, Jordan, and Macy. We had been working on a group project together involving modeling construction grammars by generating primitive 3D structures using C# and running the code through a game engine (it's a bit weird, but essentially we were trying to create a multidimensional model for language using a similar but more advanced concept than other LLMs), and just had a breakthrough. It was 2AM though and not a brain cell existed between the six of us, so instead we focused on a different problem: Macy's ongoing breakup with her semi-long distance trucker boyfriend. We tried to explain why Mike wasn't going to work out as we ordered a round of milkshakes and waited for the lone overnight kitchen worker to scoop out three balls of ice cream from the Deans carton for each of us, blend it, then have the server deliver the vintage diner glasses on a plastic tray.
I dug into my thick strawberry shake with a spoon. It was delicious. I kept eating but focused back on the conversation. I remember feeling something odd about one of the scoops, but I was so entrenched in Macy's story that I didn't notice the metal shard in my ice cream until I felt it against my lip. "P-tuh" I spat out the shard and ice cream all in one motion, then covered my mouth which I was sure was bleeding. The silver blade was probably as large as my thumb, and it had two jagged edges, as if it was fastened for the purpose of causing damage. "What the fuck!" I yelled.
Everyone at the table turned to see what was the matter. "Hey, Lauren, you okay?"
I spoke through a covered mouth, using my free hand to point at the table. "That was in my—"
But it was gone.
"In your… shake? Was something in your shake?" asked Jeremy.
I froze. In that moment, the stories of my childhood that I had only remembered as faint nightmares came back in a wave of crushing terror. How could I have been so stupid to think they would simply vanish forever? No, this isn't the same thing, I thought. But deep down, I knew it was. I drew my hand away from my lips and saw that it was dry—no blood. When I looked back up, all of the blood in my veins went cold. My friends were… smiling at me. Their lips were elastic like taffy, stretching to reveal their teeth. I could feel them radiating malevolence, as if the only thing holding them back from picking up their utensils and stabbing me to death was some thinly veiled force field. The moment lasted for what felt like half a minute, then Jordan said two words which made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"Found you"
The words ricocheted in my now adrenaline powered skull. But just as he spoke them, the world blinked and my friends were back. Bella reached out and grabbed my hand. I pulled away, but when I saw her concerned expression, I relented.
"Sorry, guys, I think I'm going to have to call it." I said.
"You sure, L?" asked Jordan. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
"Yeah, thanks, but I just…" I stumbled for a lie, but when one wouldn't come, Martin stood up and said he'd walk me out to my car.
"Thanks," I said as I got into my little 2015 Jetta. "It's just been a long day."
"No problem, Lauren. You know, if there's ever anything—"
"I know," I said but didn't mean. Some things just couldn't be shared.
I drove for about five minutes before stopping at a gas station. I pulled in and parked near the back. Then I interlocked my fingers and prayed for half an hour. I apologized for not taking my praying seriously and asked to once again be granted peace. Unlike my younger years, I also drifted into other avenues of thought. I imagined my mom. I pictured the whole arc of my life, all of the little decisions that led me to where I was. I cried for a long time. I felt like that little girl again reaching out for help. I still felt so lost, so out of control; there were so many things missing, and I was so confused.
I decided then to take a trip back home and visit my dad who was now working as a private tutor. He made enough prepping affluent students for the ACT and SAT that he could spend his free time pursuing his real passions: reading and writing. When I arrived at his doorstep that weekend, he greeted me with open arms. "How are you, kiddo? It's been, what? A year or so?"
It was actually more like two years, but I didn't tell him. I just smiled and nodded.
"Well, come in."
The house was almost exactly how I remembered it. Linoleum floors, beige walls, a few scattered pictures, the scent of camomile. Everything minimalist. There was a quaintness, a prettiness to the way everything seemed to be well kept and in a perfect place. From the cherry wood chairs we'd sit in to eat, to the cream-colored loveseat. I felt at home.
I spent the drive thinking of what I would talk to my dad about, but ultimately I wasn't sure what I'd say. I loved my dad, but I think growing up it was easy to see him as naive. After all, arguably the most important episodes of my childhood were completely unknown to him. In that way, I kind of loved him from a distance. Maybe losing my mom also played into that. Maybe I just had trust issues. And after what happened at the diner… Luckily there hadn't been any blinks since.
I stayed for a couple days and he showed me around some of the different coffee shops where he'd tutor kids or write some of his stories. I met some of his friends, mostly other retired or part-time teachers who were in a similar place in life. I was happy for him. Then, on Sunday, he made me my favorite meal growing up: homemade carbonara pasta with chicken and broccoli. The sauce had a few different cheeses, butter, olive oil, and a raw egg yolk. It was the perfect blend of creamy, savory, and sweet. After we ate, he cracked open a scrapbook of some old photos and other clippings he had put together.
We reminisced about the past and laughed whenever I'd cover up one of my awkward pictures. He brought up some stories from school that I had forgotten, naming some teachers that I hadn't thought about in years. Apparently I had started at the end, because as I moved to the other end of the book, I kept getting younger and younger. I flipped to the last pages and noticed a couple pictures of my mom that made my heart sink.
"She was beautiful, wasn't she?" said my dad.
"Mmm," I agreed.
I flipped to the last page and saw a collage of newspaper clippings. One of them was related to the accident. It was headlined: "Two Survive Head-On Collision". After a cursory glance at the text, I noticed something odd. It said, "Both the husband and child, a three year old girl, sustained life-threatening wounds. The husband was found unconscious on the scene. The girl was found twenty meters away from the vehicle, crying." I swallowed, trying to remember back to what happened that day. The feeling of crashing, of the world slowing down, then breaking, returned. And then there was a hand. My dad's hand. Or was it? If he was unconscious, who pulled me out of that wreck?
I looked up at my dad. He was smiling.
I shot up and started backing up slowly toward the door. "No, not you, too. What is this? What's happening? Who are you?"
My dad, or whatever was controlling him, laughed."Oh, Lauren, Lauren, Lauren. You know who we are." he purred as he stood up. He lifted his hands and the lights began to flicker then bend in a way which shouldn't have been possible. Dark figures began to propagate from the shadows along the walls. The pictures nailed there began to blink out of existence. I turned to run toward the door but the handle was gone. Glass shards materialized all around me and swarmed like locusts. Certain I was going to die, I dropped down on my knees and once again turned to prayer, this time asking God to directly intervene and save me.
Everything went quiet.
"Honey? Are you okay?"
I didn't trust his voice. I knew if I opened my eyes, I'd see that awful smile. He was just toying with me. "It's not you," I said in between muttered prayers. "I know it's not you."
"Honey," my dad said, closer. I felt his arms wrap around me. This was it, I was going to be suffocated. I waited for the inevitable crushing weight of my chest collapsing. I waited to break all over again.
"I would never hurt you, Lauren. I love you more than anything in the whole world."
I burst out in tears. "No, it's not you, I know it's not you. You don't exist!"
My dad's weight dissipated. I opened my eyes and saw that he was no longer there. "Dad?" I called aloud. "Dad? Where did you go?"
I checked all over the house, but there was no trace of him. There were still pictures of him all over the house, so I knew he hadn't blinked out of existence like everything else, but somehow he was missing.
***
I left the house and got a room at a hotel, where I am now. I'm sure at this point that whatever is happening to me is no longer random. Something out there is actively trying to hunt me. Maybe it has been my whole life, but only now it can see me—however weird that sounds. If that's right, then God has been on my side trying to protect me from this demon or monster or devil or whatever it is. Regardless, the methods I was using when I was younger are not going to cut it anymore. I already posted my story in several other small circles and have gotten one reply. A man who goes by the name "Trent" (apparently it's an alias). He said that he has some insight into my "condition" and can offer help if I want it. I'm planning on meeting with him tomorrow. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but at this point I need answers. I can keep you updated with my progress if that interests you, and to anyone who knows anything about what's happening to me, please… I could really use your help.
***
I was just about to post this when Trent sent another message. This is what it says:
Trent: We can do the \*** at **** O'clock. Also, if what you're telling me is true, your mother may still be alive.*

When I was three years old I was in a really bad car accident. I didn't know it at the time, but that singular event would come to define everything about my life moving forward. What I remember about the accident is mostly a collage of backdated comments I was able to reel out of my father in the following years. He was driving me and my mom in his old '91 Chevy Tahoe through the twisting backroads of Southern Illinois, weaving his way through the gnarled branches of oak trees which interlocked into a braided ceiling overhead. A fog had rolled in, giving the impression that we were driving through a cloudy tube. Everything was simultaneously bright and opaque. I didn't mind though, as I was in the back seat working on a coloring book. My mom was in the front, talking with my dad or turning around to entertain my completed pictures.
Although I was of the age where my memory was just beginning to mature, I still recall two things very clearly from the accident. First was the sensation of breaking. I remember feeling the way a plate must feel to be dropped: weightless at first, then suddenly meeting a much larger, more solid object—the air popped like a firecracker, and the entirety of my body shattered into hundreds of fractals. And then I remember a hand. It was my dad's hand pulling me from the wreck.
I ended up hospitalized for weeks after the crash. My mom was less lucky. The impact had killed her instantly.
As I've alluded to, I was young, and at the time I didn't fully understand the implications of what had happened. I knew something was missing, but it was like a word on the tip of my tongue, or the forgotten vanilla in a cherished cake recipe—coloring my experience, but not the whole of it. Not like my dad. For him, it was the whole fucking cake. He had somehow made it out with only a few scratches. I'm sure he had a really bad case of survivor's guilt, and frankly, looking back, I wouldn't have blamed him if he slumped into despair and spent his days drinking away his sorrow. But he wasn't that type of man. He got help. It took him years before he was able to recall anything that happened that morning, and most of it is still repressed, but he shared with me what he could. Or at least that's what I had thought.
My dad was a Middle School teacher since before I was born, and he kept his job until very recently. As a result, we didn't have much by way of resources. I grew up on Disney Channel and TV dinners for the most part, but I didn't mind. When I became of school age, his job actually made caring for me pretty convenient. Since our Elementary and Middle schools were connected, he was able to drive me there and back each day.
It was around third or fourth grade that I realized I was different. I didn't understand the other children or even the adults most of the time. They would say things then immediately change their mind, or they would talk about something and in the next breath forget its existence entirely. I remember one day at lunch, I had just gotten my tray of hot food and sat down with some friends. One of the kids, Alex, was talking about a stuffed bird he had won for getting first place in Mr. Curtis's pop-up math competition. We were all admiring its blue wings and white belly and sharp black beak and beady eyes. I left mid-conversation to get a chocolate milk. When I came back, I asked to see the bird again, and Alex said "what bird?" I was perplexed. "The bird—the bluejay you were just showing us." I remember all of the other kids looking at me like I was crazy. I figured they were all playing a trick on me, so I got up and went over to Alex's seat and crouched down, looking under the table, then I sprung up and tried to open his lunchbox. "What are you doing!?" he yelled. I felt so confused and embarrassed that I ran to the bathroom to cry.
And then there was another time a group of kids were laughing about a joke one of the girls, Taylor, had made about our homeroom teacher's face looking like a seal. I knew it was mean, but at the time I just wanted to fit in so I played along, but when I made a comment about her resemblance to the semi-aquatic animal, they all looked at me confused. "What are you talking about? We never said that…"
These misattributions kept happening, and it led to me being ostracized from most of the little childish cliques that popped up. I developed a quasi-standoffish temperament which I used as a shield against a chaotic world that I didn't understand. My dad eventually had me tested for ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder), but I passed the test. He asked if I wanted to move to a different town with different schoolmates, thinking that perhaps I was getting bullied, but I told him it was fine. Somewhere deep down I felt like no matter where I went, this problem would follow me.
You may think that I was simply coping with the absence of my mom, and while I'm sure that her absence has left certain holes in my life, kindly, no, that wasn't what was happening. You see, at first I didn't notice the instances of what I'll call "blinking". I simply thought that I was misremembering things: objects, words, events. They were all little things anyway. A bird, a joke, my pencil box. It wasn't until sixth grade that I realized the magnitude of the phenomenon.
I was in my dad's 6th grade Social Studies class and we had just been assigned our "Ancient Civilizations" project which involved creating a diorama of our chosen civilization and presenting its features to the class. My friend at the time, Claire, had taken my first choice of Ancient Rome (which we had a heated argument about at lunch), so I was left with Ancient Egypt. At the time, all I pictured for Egypt was a plate of sand. However, my dad and I went through some illustrated history books and pictures on the internet and he really built up the project for me.
Over the course of a couple months, he helped me shape three pyramids out of small wooden planks and a bunch of tan clay. We placed them in the center of a giant square shoebox lid which served as the container for the diorama. Then he bought some small wooden mannequin puppets and we dressed them up in cloth clothes (mostly kilts and tunics) and colored their eyes, mouths, and hair. We added a few obelisks and some small box-huts which were collected into a little village around the Nile. Finally, we added a light glaze of glue where we felt would be necessary and then covered the whole project with golden glitter.
As we worked on each part of the diorama, my dad helped me understand what we were adding and why it was important to Ancient Egypt. I loved the way he talked about history. He spun everything into a miraculous story. To this day, I don't think I've ever had a teacher who came close to his level of charisma and creativity. As a result, I became really proud of my diorama. I memorized all the little details and rehearsed my speech in front of the mirror for hours leading up to the last couple weeks of class. And then, two days before I was supposed to give my presentation, everything fell apart.
First, I need to apologize for deceiving you about an aspect of my story. I thought it might help you to understand what I was going through at the time. What I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane. I get that. But please hear me out. The truth is that I was never assigned to present on Ancient Egypt; everything else about Clair taking my first pick and dad helping me with the whole project and my excitement leading up to the presentation was all true, but it wasn't a project on Ancient Egypt, it was a project on Ancient Sidovan, which was a civilization located on the eighth continent called "Catalan" (the same name as the spoken language, but unrelated) which was due West of Australia in the Indian Ocean.
I know this sounds incredible, and if you want to believe it's all in my head, I get that, but I remember clearly all sorts of facts about it: the Malagasy, the same people who populated Madagascar, were the first peoples to discover Catalan and settle it. However, about five hundred years later, Indian ships would arrive and create the civilization known as Sidovan. A pidgin language formed between the indigenous population and new arriving Indians called "Hiesa" (pronounced: Hai-E-suh or Hai-ʔ-suh). Catalan had a warm climate with plenty of natural resources, but Sidovan had a dense enough population to require agricultural production. They grew rice, grain, sugarcane, vegetables, and even tobacco.
I remembered all of these facts and more. My diorama reflected the main features of the Sidovan civilization. And then two days before my presentation, I woke up and my diorama was entirely different. The hilly grasslands were traded out for sandy dunes. The Hindu statues and stone palaces became clay pyramids and large spear-like pillars. And everything was covered with the ickiest yellow glitter I had ever seen. Tears stung my eyes as I trampled over to my dad's room and banged on his door. "Dad! What did you do!?" I yelled.
"Honey?" He responded, rushing over to the base of the stairs. "What's wrong?"
"The diorama. It's ruined!"
"It's what?" he asked and ran up the stairs, leading me to my room. He looked over it for a few seconds, checking to see if everything was intact, then said, "I don't see it, honey. Where is it ruined?"
I was completely dumb-struck. What did he mean he didn't see it? "All of it!" I shouted. "The whole thing is wrong. Where's the grass and the stone buildings and the lady with the four arms and the elephants? Where is my project!?"
My dad looked at me in silence. "Lauren, baby, what civilization do you think you were working on?"
"Ancient Sidovan, of course! We've been working on this for months now! Dad, please tell me you remember."
He knelt down and put his hands on my shoulders. "Honey, your project was on Ancient Egypt. There is no Ancient Sidovan."
"Y-you're lying." I protested. "Books, you have books. On your bookshelf."
He took me into his study and showed me all of his books. None of them were on Ancient Sidovan. He even turned on his computer and typed in the name of the civilization, but all that came up was a near match "Sidon". I remember feeling the sudden urge to puke. My entire body felt like it was pumping battery acid instead of blood. "I—I don't," I started but suddenly my head felt very light, and I fainted.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I had lost consciousness for over half an hour, enough time for my dad to call 9-1-1 and have the ambulance transport me to the nearest ER. They ran all sorts of tests on me, but they all came back fine. After a couple hours of IV fluids and monitoring, they released me with my dad.
I ended up skipping the rest of school that week. My dad didn't make me present my diorama. In fact, he never brought the subject up again. Part of me was glad. I just wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened. But another part of me couldn't move past what was clearly the most absurd thing to ever happen to me. About a week after the incident, I tried to broach the subject, but when I asked my dad about it, he didn't seem to remember our conversation at all. He said I had fallen ill and that's why I needed to go to the ER and miss class. I felt like I was going crazy. If I was older, I probably would have voluntarily checked myself into a psychiatric ward. But I was young and helpless and alone, and I decided that if I just ignored the changes well enough, I could still get along. This proved difficult though, as the blinking would only exacerbate in the coming months.
Up until the time of the project, I hadn't been able to directly observe the phenomenon. It was always in retrospect that things disappeared. It was during the summer after sixth grade that this changed. I still remember the first time it happened. I had just gotten out of the shower and was drying my hair in front of the mirror. After it was dried, I threw on my clothes then went to tie my hair up in a ponytail, but as I went to set the elastic tie, I felt its weight dissipate in my hand. I gasped and held my hand out. The circular black band was gone.
Fast forward to seventh grade and the blinking had spiraled out of control. Reflecting back on it, most people would probably have assumed I was drinking psilocybin-infused water, as the delusions were somewhat consistent with psychedelic phenomena: except these distortions were real (at least they felt that way to me).
I'd wake up and grab the box of Special K but end up eating Cheerios. The McDonalds logo would look yellow and red one day, but purple and black the next. I'd be watching a show, and then a different show, and then a different one. It was as if the entire universe was a Christmas tree with millions of lights, and the lights kept shifting hues randomly, faster and faster, and I was the only one who could see their changing colors. I remember one night my dad made spaghetti for dinner and we went out onto the porch to eat it. While we were sitting, I saw our neighbor's house, a two story townhome, blink and become a single story bungalow. I gasped, and my dad asked what was wrong, but when I tried to explain he just gave me a strange look. For him, no matter what changed, the world was "always that way". While for me, it didn't have "a way".
The situation peaked when Clair, that friend I mentioned before, disappeared. I texted her (my dad had bought me a BlackBerry at the beginning of summer break) but didn't get a response. When I asked her other friends if they knew where she was, I got the usual "what are you talking about?" look. I knew right away what had happened, even though I didn't want to believe it. I went to the teacher and asked if there was a Clair in our class. She said "no". I broke down in front of everyone. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran out of school. The lady at the front desk tried to stop me, but I just barrelled past her. I kept running until I got to a big park across the street and bawled my eyes out until the police arrived and escorted me home. When they tried asking me what was wrong, I didn't say anything. There was literally nothing I could say that they would understand.
That night I prayed to God for the first time. My dad wasn't a religious man. He went to Catholic church with my mom when she was alive, but after she died he never went back. Still, I knew how to pray, even if I never did it. I copied some of the people I saw praying in movies and interlocked my fingers and knelt down on my bed, stuffing my head into a pillow. "Dear God," I said, "Please, please, please help me." I told Him about my struggles and asked Him to make them stop. I spent an hour saying the same things over and over again. And when I was finished, my little body was so tired, I fell right to sleep.
I knew something was different the second I opened my eyelids. I didn't only feel relieved, but I felt… embraced. I felt like someone was watching over me. I felt like I wasn't alone. I moved through my day with cautious apprehension. I didn't want to get my hopes up only to be let down. But to my surprise, the blinking had stopped. At least I couldn't remember any of the inconsistencies, and to me, that was a win. I began to pray regularly, and the more I did, the more I could feel the sense that someone was looking out for me. It was like I was getting a big hug from some cosmic force that loved me and wanted me to be happy.
I made it a habit to pray regularly. I asked my dad if he could take me to a church, and he agreed to take me to St. Mark's, the same church that he and my mom used to attend. Over time, I realized that the actual church services weren't as important to me as the praying. For whatever reason, there was something about praying that was like a glue for my brain, holding the entire universe together. As I got older, I considered that maybe it wasn't that the changes were no longer happening, but that I simply didn't see them anymore. In other words, maybe I was just becoming like everyone else. Either way, I didn't mind.
In my teenage years, I got into mindfulness meditation. I thought that I'd want to go into religious studies and become a theologian, so I started to learn about Eastern traditions in addition to Christianity. I joined a bunch of different school clubs to meet kids of different faiths: Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam. I tried to find a common thread which linked them all and would explain what happened to me as a child. The metaphors of Heaven and Hell, Good and Evil, the Taoist Yin and Yang—duality. Every religion seemed to speak about a way of being that would lead to a better place. In some cases that better place was a physical future existence, and in others it was merely being in contact with the perfection of nature or the present. Metaphorically, the teachings could explain what I had gone through in a kind of loose way, but there were no explicit statements about my condition.
***
I want to fast forward to why I've decided to write about this now. To give you an idea of where I'm at, I'm now 25 and working on finishing my MA in Computational Linguistics. I know that's a bit of a switch from what I was thinking when I was a teenager, but I really only interested in religion because of the value praying afforded me as a child. I didn't actually have much interest in the subject, itself. After my first year of college, I changed to an English major, which ultimately led to me taking a linguistics class and enjoying it so much that I switched tracks in my Junior year. Considering the state of the world, I thought minoring in Computer Science might help me financially in the future, so I ended up charting a path which I figured might lead to something like developing translation software.
Anyway, everything was going fine until a few weeks ago. I was out at an all-night diner with a few of my friends from the program. There was Jeremy, Martin, Bella, Jordan, and Macy. We had been working on a group project together involving modeling construction grammars by generating primitive 3D structures using C# and running the code through a game engine (it's a bit weird, but essentially we were trying to create a multidimensional model for language using a similar but more advanced concept than other LLMs), and just had a breakthrough. It was 2AM though and not a brain cell existed between the six of us, so instead we focused on a different problem: Macy's ongoing breakup with her semi-long distance trucker boyfriend. We tried to explain why Mike wasn't going to work out as we ordered a round of milkshakes and waited for the lone overnight kitchen worker to scoop out three balls of ice cream from the Deans carton for each of us, blend it, then have the server deliver the vintage diner glasses on a plastic tray.
I dug into my thick strawberry shake with a spoon. It was delicious. I kept eating but focused back on the conversation. I remember feeling something odd about one of the scoops, but I was so entrenched in Macy's story that I didn't notice the metal shard in my ice cream until I felt it against my lip. "P-tuh" I spat out the shard and ice cream all in one motion, then covered my mouth which I was sure was bleeding. The silver blade was probably as large as my thumb, and it had two jagged edges, as if it was fastened for the purpose of causing damage. "What the fuck!" I yelled.
Everyone at the table turned to see what was the matter. "Hey, Lauren, you okay?"
I spoke through a covered mouth, using my free hand to point at the table. "That was in my—"
But it was gone.
"In your… shake? Was something in your shake?" asked Jeremy.
I froze. In that moment, the stories of my childhood that I had only remembered as faint nightmares came back in a wave of crushing terror. How could I have been so stupid to think they would simply vanish forever? No, this isn't the same thing, I thought. But deep down, I knew it was. I drew my hand away from my lips and saw that it was dry—no blood. When I looked back up, all of the blood in my veins went cold. My friends were… smiling at me. Their lips were elastic like taffy, stretching to reveal their teeth. I could feel them radiating malevolence, as if the only thing holding them back from picking up their utensils and stabbing me to death was some thinly veiled force field. The moment lasted for what felt like half a minute, then Jordan said two words which made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"Found you"
The words ricocheted in my now adrenaline powered skull. But just as he spoke them, the world blinked and my friends were back. Bella reached out and grabbed my hand. I pulled away, but when I saw her concerned expression, I relented.
"Sorry, guys, I think I'm going to have to call it." I said.
"You sure, L?" asked Jordan. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
"Yeah, thanks, but I just…" I stumbled for a lie, but when one wouldn't come, Martin stood up and said he'd walk me out to my car.
"Thanks," I said as I got into my little 2015 Jetta. "It's just been a long day."
"No problem, Lauren. You know, if there's ever anything—"
"I know," I said but didn't mean. Some things just couldn't be shared.
I drove for about five minutes before stopping at a gas station. I pulled in and parked near the back. Then I interlocked my fingers and prayed for half an hour. I apologized for not taking my praying seriously and asked to once again be granted peace. Unlike my younger years, I also drifted into other avenues of thought. I imagined my mom. I pictured the whole arc of my life, all of the little decisions that led me to where I was. I cried for a long time. I felt like that little girl again reaching out for help. I still felt so lost, so out of control; there were so many things missing, and I was so confused.
I decided then to take a trip back home and visit my dad who was now working as a private tutor. He made enough prepping affluent students for the ACT and SAT that he could spend his free time pursuing his real passions: reading and writing. When I arrived at his doorstep that weekend, he greeted me with open arms. "How are you, kiddo? It's been, what? A year or so?"
It was actually more like two years, but I didn't tell him. I just smiled and nodded.
"Well, come in."
The house was almost exactly how I remembered it. Linoleum floors, beige walls, a few scattered pictures, the scent of camomile. Everything minimalist. There was a quaintness, a prettiness to the way everything seemed to be well kept and in a perfect place. From the cherry wood chairs we'd sit in to eat, to the cream-colored loveseat. I felt at home.
I spent the drive thinking of what I would talk to my dad about, but ultimately I wasn't sure what I'd say. I loved my dad, but I think growing up it was easy to see him as naive. After all, arguably the most important episodes of my childhood were completely unknown to him. In that way, I kind of loved him from a distance. Maybe losing my mom also played into that. Maybe I just had trust issues. And after what happened at the diner… Luckily there hadn't been any blinks since.
I stayed for a couple days and he showed me around some of the different coffee shops where he'd tutor kids or write some of his stories. I met some of his friends, mostly other retired or part-time teachers who were in a similar place in life. I was happy for him. Then, on Sunday, he made me my favorite meal growing up: homemade carbonara pasta with chicken and broccoli. The sauce had a few different cheeses, butter, olive oil, and a raw egg yolk. It was the perfect blend of creamy, savory, and sweet. After we ate, he cracked open a scrapbook of some old photos and other clippings he had put together.
We reminisced about the past and laughed whenever I'd cover up one of my awkward pictures. He brought up some stories from school that I had forgotten, naming some teachers that I hadn't thought about in years. Apparently I had started at the end, because as I moved to the other end of the book, I kept getting younger and younger. I flipped to the last pages and noticed a couple pictures of my mom that made my heart sink.
"She was beautiful, wasn't she?" said my dad.
"Mmm," I agreed.
I flipped to the last page and saw a collage of newspaper clippings. One of them was related to the accident. It was headlined: "Two Survive Head-On Collision". After a cursory glance at the text, I noticed something odd. It said, "Both the husband and child, a three year old girl, sustained life-threatening wounds. The husband was found unconscious on the scene. The girl was found twenty meters away from the vehicle, crying." I swallowed, trying to remember back to what happened that day. The feeling of crashing, of the world slowing down, then breaking, returned. And then there was a hand. My dad's hand. Or was it? If he was unconscious, who pulled me out of that wreck?
I looked up at my dad. He was smiling.
I shot up and started backing up slowly toward the door. "No, not you, too. What is this? What's happening? Who are you?"
My dad, or whatever was controlling him, laughed."Oh, Lauren, Lauren, Lauren. You know who we are." he purred as he stood up. He lifted his hands and the lights began to flicker then bend in a way which shouldn't have been possible. Dark figures began to propagate from the shadows along the walls. The pictures nailed there began to blink out of existence. I turned to run toward the door but the handle was gone. Glass shards materialized all around me and swarmed like locusts. Certain I was going to die, I dropped down on my knees and once again turned to prayer, this time asking God to directly intervene and save me.
Everything went quiet.
"Honey? Are you okay?"
I didn't trust his voice. I knew if I opened my eyes, I'd see that awful smile. He was just toying with me. "It's not you," I said in between muttered prayers. "I know it's not you."
"Honey," my dad said, closer. I felt his arms wrap around me. This was it, I was going to be suffocated. I waited for the inevitable crushing weight of my chest collapsing. I waited to break all over again.
"I would never hurt you, Lauren. I love you more than anything in the whole world."
I burst out in tears. "No, it's not you, I know it's not you. You don't exist!"
My dad's weight dissipated. I opened my eyes and saw that he was no longer there. "Dad?" I called aloud. "Dad? Where did you go?"
I checked all over the house, but there was no trace of him. There were still pictures of him all over the house, so I knew he hadn't blinked out of existence like everything else, but somehow he was missing.
***
I left the house and got a room at a hotel, where I am now. I'm sure at this point that whatever is happening to me is no longer random. Something out there is actively trying to hunt me. Maybe it has been my whole life, but only now it can see me—however weird that sounds. If that's right, then God has been on my side trying to protect me from this demon or monster or devil or whatever it is. Regardless, the methods I was using when I was younger are not going to cut it anymore. I already posted my story in several other small circles and have gotten one reply. A man who goes by the name "Trent" (apparently it's an alias). He said that he has some insight into my "condition" and can offer help if I want it. I'm planning on meeting with him tomorrow. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but at this point I need answers. I can keep you updated with my progress if that interests you, and to anyone who knows anything about what's happening to me, please… I could really use your help.
***
I was just about to post this when Trent sent another message. This is what it says:
Trent: We can do the \*** at **** O'clock. Also, if what you're telling me is true, your mother may still be alive.*

Heyo everyone,
First of all, thank you wonderful people for joining me here. Firstly a short Overview of the setting, some ideas for the story and then i will throw a few extras in at the end. Would be happy to hear everyones thoughts to all of this, what you love or hate, what kind of cool and crazy ideas you have for me and yeah thats it actually :D Lets get into it.
System: i will be using the Cypher system, as it gives me the Narative focus with plenty of customization and adaptiblity. I havent been doing too much with it yet, but i really like it already from readying and listening a bit to plays.
Setting: This is where it gets mythical. So imagine a world just like ours. Actually exactly our world. A few years in the future some archelogists and divers find Pandoras Box hidden on a greek island in an underwater cave with plenty of warning. and even logbook with it. Its Odyseus's logbook, in which he mentioned he trapped all the gods and magic in that box with the help of Circe and a few of the other more benevolent gods. Thus started the golden age of humanity where they didnt have to worry about annoying a bunch of superpowerful self absorbed mythical assholes on Olympus.
Surprisingly, the archelogists actually listened to Odyseus warning and decided that some mysteries might be better left unsolved. The box was left open to allow the world the speculate. Not long after that, the box was the most important and most talked about object in the world. It even went on a world tour through the biggest museums. That was until it arrived in America. In the years since 2024, interest in Social media and influencers only increased, causing people to do anything for clicks and likes. And one particular idiot went as far as sneaking a gun into a museum to shoot open pandoras box live on Stream.
Not long after that, 90% of the world population died. As the contained magic exploded forth and spread across the world in light speed, it wrecked havoc across the whole world, changing the land, the animals and the people. Monsters reappered, The gods made their anger at their imprisonment clear to anyone they could and the world offically ended on that day.
Now, 40 days in the future, North America is a wasteland generally regarded as inhabitable due to the high concentration of Mana there, which is toxic to Humans. Most people live in Europe, Africa, Asia and australia, or whats left of it anyways. Famine and war are standard. Some people are training to use magic themselves, others devote themselves to hunting the new monsters for their rare parts, others integrate magic into technology for wonderous creations and most just try to survive in small communities. Most people avoid the gods at all cost, some have formed into cults for them while the rare few attempt to rebel (which often ends in gruesome deaths).
Now the players find themselves in a familar yet unknown world, Magic everywhere to be found, Horrible creatures ready to feast on them around each corner, Ruined cities promising loot and danger, Technology growing rapidly thanks to magic and Powerful beings toying with them for their amusement.
Adventure: So I want to sent the players to North america as part of a huge strikeforce to retrieve a part of pandoras box for study to maybe capture the gods again. obviously this will be a huge secret, they will think its to retrieve vital knowledge to fight a spreading plague as will most of the expiditions members to avoid the eyes of the gods. They will be teleported to America through a new device, but will be forced to travel back on their own accord. Which will lead them to a container ship that holds their strikeforce and some survivors they will find to travel back over the ocean. TIME FOR AN ODYSEE. Everything will go wrong on the trip, i wanna challange the players with impossible emotional choices like maybe during a famine on board some passangers will eat the dead. Should they be punished? Or when the ship is hit by a monster, should we seal a part of the ship to prevent more of the ship taking in water, even if most people couldnt evacuate yet.
I want the players to distinguish themselves during their time in NA to allow them to tale the command of the ship, maybe the commander of the expdition is heavily wounded ( dont want to kill them off, because someone gotta reveal they carry a shard of the box with them). That way all of the decision will be upon them.
I want them to also meet poseidon, who will be their main villain. He will attack them multiple times and the only way they will survive is often with big casualties, with help of other gods or magical artifacts. Other gods will be involved too. Maybe someone from the backgrounds of the player gets involved to murder them. And the two gods trying to kill them , with the bickering giving them a way to escape. In the end they can either kill a god using the piece of the box, or bring the piece home for future use. Will they be able to protect themselves and their people from poseidon, or do they have to strike his heart with their piece of pandoras box. When presented with an opportunity to kill another god, the god who hurt the players the most by killing family and friends, will they take this chance or will they be able to control their rage.
I want to leave this very open ended, just with many encounters ready to go if the opportunity present itself.
And i have to say, Epic: the musical was a big part of the inspiration, just want to give credit where its due. Absolutly amazing.
Here id be happy to hear your ideas. Anything is fine, good or bad opinions. Really just collecting thoughts now.
Some other cool things about the world i will include: Shades: when people were hit by the explosion of mana from the opening of the box, most disintegrated instantly. Some left behind a shade made of pure mana. Those shades are like ghosts on autopilot that follow the routine of the person that it once was. They are usually neutral just doing their thing, but if they sense a disturbance to their regular routine, they will react hostile. As incorperal beings they are incredibly difficult to stop unless you possess magic. They will use the mana inside them to overload you and kill you slow and painfully
Mana/magic: so mana is plentiful and everywhere. It can be used to cast spells and empower oneself. How to do this, is a difficult skill the players will learn during their adventure. The only problem is that mana is toxic to humans as our bodies evolved something like mana allergy. Players can cast spells from their internal force as well if they have one (like divine power born with or purified mana they gained through meditation) so caster classes have a few safe options. But in the end, i want players to pursue a game of risk and reward, by drawing on the mana around them, giving them abilities but also causing many negative effects.

Heyo everyone,
First of all, thank you wonderful people for joining me here. Firstly a short Overview of the setting, some ideas for the story and then i will throw a few extras in at the end. Would be happy to hear everyones thoughts to all of this, what you love or hate, what kind of cool and crazy ideas you have for me and yeah thats it actually :D Lets get into it.
System: i will be using the Cypher system, as it gives me the Narative focus with plenty of customization and adaptiblity. I havent been doing too much with it yet, but i really like it already from readying and listening a bit to plays.
Setting: This is where it gets mythical. So imagine a world just like ours. Actually exactly our world. A few years in the future some archelogists and divers find Pandoras Box hidden on a greek island in an underwater cave with plenty of warning. and even logbook with it. Its Odyseus's logbook, in which he mentioned he trapped all the gods and magic in that box with the help of Circe and a few of the other more benevolent gods. Thus started the golden age of humanity where they didnt have to worry about annoying a bunch of superpowerful self absorbed mythical assholes on Olympus.
Surprisingly, the archelogists actually listened to Odyseus warning and decided that some mysteries might be better left unsolved. The box was left open to allow the world the speculate. Not long after that, the box was the most important and most talked about object in the world. It even went on a world tour through the biggest museums. That was until it arrived in America. In the years since 2024, interest in Social media and influencers only increased, causing people to do anything for clicks and likes. And one particular idiot went as far as sneaking a gun into a museum to shoot open pandoras box live on Stream.
Not long after that, 90% of the world population died. As the contained magic exploded forth and spread across the world in light speed, it wrecked havoc across the whole world, changing the land, the animals and the people. Monsters reappered, The gods made their anger at their imprisonment clear to anyone they could and the world offically ended on that day.
Now, 40 days in the future, North America is a wasteland generally regarded as inhabitable due to the high concentration of Mana there, which is toxic to Humans. Most people live in Europe, Africa, Asia and australia, or whats left of it anyways. Famine and war are standard. Some people are training to use magic themselves, others devote themselves to hunting the new monsters for their rare parts, others integrate magic into technology for wonderous creations and most just try to survive in small communities. Most people avoid the gods at all cost, some have formed into cults for them while the rare few attempt to rebel (which often ends in gruesome deaths).
Now the players find themselves in a familar yet unknown world, Magic everywhere to be found, Horrible creatures ready to feast on them around each corner, Ruined cities promising loot and danger, Technology growing rapidly thanks to magic and Powerful beings toying with them for their amusement.
Adventure: So I want to sent the players to North america as part of a huge strikeforce to retrieve a part of pandoras box for study to maybe capture the gods again. obviously this will be a huge secret, they will think its to retrieve vital knowledge to fight a spreading plague as will most of the expiditions members to avoid the eyes of the gods. They will be teleported to America through a new device, but will be forced to travel back on their own accord. Which will lead them to a container ship that holds their strikeforce and some survivors they will find to travel back over the ocean. TIME FOR AN ODYSEE. Everything will go wrong on the trip, i wanna challange the players with impossible emotional choices like maybe during a famine on board some passangers will eat the dead. Should they be punished? Or when the ship is hit by a monster, should we seal a part of the ship to prevent more of the ship taking in water, even if most people couldnt evacuate yet.
I want the players to distinguish themselves during their time in NA to allow them to tale the command of the ship, maybe the commander of the expdition is heavily wounded ( dont want to kill them off, because someone gotta reveal they carry a shard of the box with them). That way all of the decision will be upon them.
I want them to also meet poseidon, who will be their main villain. He will attack them multiple times and the only way they will survive is often with big casualties, with help of other gods or magical artifacts. Other gods will be involved too. Maybe someone from the backgrounds of the player gets involved to murder them. And the two gods trying to kill them , with the bickering giving them a way to escape. In the end they can either kill a god using the piece of the box, or bring the piece home for future use. Will they be able to protect themselves and their people from poseidon, or do they have to strike his heart with their piece of pandoras box. When presented with an opportunity to kill another god, the god who hurt the players the most by killing family and friends, will they take this chance or will they be able to control their rage.
I want to leave this very open ended, just with many encounters ready to go if the opportunity present itself.
And i have to say, Epic: the musical was a big part of the inspiration, just want to give credit where its due. Absolutly amazing.
Here id be happy to hear your ideas. Anything is fine, good or bad opinions. Really just collecting thoughts now.
Some other cool things about the world i will include: Shades: when people were hit by the explosion of mana from the opening of the box, most disintegrated instantly. Some left behind a shade made of pure mana. Those shades are like ghosts on autopilot that follow the routine of the person that it once was. They are usually neutral just doing their thing, but if they sense a disturbance to their regular routine, they will react hostile. As incorperal beings they are incredibly difficult to stop unless you possess magic. They will use the mana inside them to overload you and kill you slow and painfully
Mana/magic: so mana is plentiful and everywhere. It can be used to cast spells and empower oneself. How to do this, is a difficult skill the players will learn during their adventure. The only problem is that mana is toxic to humans as our bodies evolved something like mana allergy. Players can cast spells from their internal force as well if they have one (like divine power born with or purified mana they gained through meditation) so caster classes have a few safe options. But in the end, i want players to pursue a game of risk and reward, by drawing on the mana around them, giving them abilities but also causing many negative effects.

Author’s Note:
If you enjoy the story so far, please consider upvoting and commenting! These go a long way in helping the story reach a larger audience. (Also, reddit removes all my formatting for some reason so if you want a fully formatted read, check out my story on RoyalRoad)
READ 2 WEEKS AHEAD: Season Finale Chapter 17 is now available for Tier 2 Manifest Fantasy Patrons and higher!
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First
Three, two, one... execute.
Ron peeked around the corner, his M4E1 Carl Gustaf already loaded with standard HEAT rounds. The rest of Alpha Team stacked up behind him or behind Ryan, who was on the other side of the doorway. Through the opening, they could see a nightmarish tangle of webs and egg sacs, with the skittering shapes of Spiranids lurking in the shadows in the far corners of the room.
The Queen was positioned in the center of the room, completely exposed by a cluster of eggs. Henry watched as Ron leveled his Gustaf, taking aim at the Queen while they stayed along the wall to ensure Ron’s backblast was clear. It should have been an easy kill, but a flicker of movement caught Henry’s eye.
A blob of white flew across his vision, smacking into Ron just as he fired his weapon. The thick strands of webbing bypassed Kelmithus’ shielding and wrapped around him, sending him flying back a couple of meters. He landed on his back, his body and launcher completely stuck to the floor by the condensed silk.
Around the same time, the Gustaf’s projectile struck the Queen’s abdomen section. The resulting blast tore through its exoskeleton but was far from a fatal blow. The Queen shrieked, a sound far deeper than Henry expected.
“Fuck!” Ron shouted, struggling to break free from the webbing.
Henry exhaled. They were a man down, but helping him had to wait; the not-dead Queen and its minions took precedence. It would be great if he had another launcher in his own Holding Bag, but that was something he’d have to bring up to Chief Cole later. Henry tossed his grenades into the room, the pops mingling with the screeches of injured Spiranids. Ryan struck simultaneously, throwing his own collection into the mix. Like firecrackers, the explosives were violent but short-lived.
As the chaos subsided, Henry pushed in. Raising his shotgun, he tore through a Spiranid that pounced at him, its carcass smoldering from the white phosphorous. Beside him, Isaac, Ryan, and Dr. Anderson’s shots rang out, tearing through their own sectors of fire.
Almost immediately upon their entry, the Queen surged forward with terrifying speed. It reared its head back like it was about to vomit, mandibles covered in a sick, yellowish color. Henry recognized immediately what it was trying to do. “Acid, move!”
Henry dove away from his previous position, taking a shot at another Spiranid that had taken the opportunity to jump at him while its master was preparing to attack. He narrowly escaped the lethal spray as it jetted toward him. The acid splattered on the ground where they had stood not even a second before, sizzling fiercely as it corroded the thick webbing sprawled across the floor. He noticed as he ran that, rather curiously, the acid was simply puddling on the floor. There was no damage to the floor itself, but if it could tear apart high-quality monster silk just like that, he didn’t want to find out what it could do to an envirosuit.
Henry glanced back after blasting apart his third Spiranid. His teammates were fine – Ryan helping him keep the Queen’s attention, Sera already on her way to Ron, and the others taking care of the smaller Spiranids. He tried to get a quick headcount of how many Spiranids they’d already eliminated. Between their guns, Kelmithus’ magic, and the grenades, he estimated they had killed at least a dozen so far. Solid progress, but the fact that they weren’t able to take out the Queen with their first strike was an issue.
Henry rolled to his left as the Queen pounced on his previous position. It was fucking fast, like a Goliath birdeater but scaled up – and with nasty abilities that really shouldn’t belong on a creature like this. He recovered quickly and took aim, firing point-blank into its thorax. The white phosphorous pellets hissed as they burned into its exoskeleton, forcing it back.
Beside him, Ryan’s shotgun boomed. He struck the Queen’s legs, which seemed to be more fragile than the thick exoskeleton surrounding the head and thorax. The pellets bit into the chitin, likely striking a nerve as evidenced by the leg’s subsequent buckling and collapse. It was a lucky shot – one that he doubted they could repeat four or five more times.
“Sera, use my knife! Here, right here!” Ron called out.
Sera’s sword must’ve been too large to effectively cut through the webbing. They had to hurry up. He and Ryan had been dodging the Queen’s attacks, but mostly by a hair’s breadth. All it took was one lucky hit from the Queen to put them out of commission, possibly for good. “Sera, status on Ron?”
“One minute!” she responded.
Damn. That was one minute later than he’d hoped. Reacting instinctively, Henry noted the Queen raising one of its legs – a sure sign of it preparing for another attack. The Queen struck again, this time cleaving the air with the leg, aiming to corral him into a predictable escape route. As its leg swept through the air, Henry caught sight of the Queen rearing its head back in a grotesque mimicry of a snake about to strike – another acid attack.
Anticipating the monster’s strategy, Henry feinted to the right, a move he hoped would mislead it about his true intentions. As the Queen’s head followed his feint, Henry twisted sharply, scraping against the rough ground. With a powerful push from his legs, he launched backward just as the Queen unleashed its attack.
Acid spewed forth in a wide arc, splattering where he had just been. The corrosive globs almost instantly melted the webbing on the floor, collecting into pools. And there was the second issue. The longer this fight dragged on, the less room they’d have to maneuver.
Henry unloaded into the creature’s compound eyes before tossing a flashbang near its legs. The creature staggered backward, blinded in both its eyes and its sensory hairs. Henry used the precious few seconds he bought to reload his weapon and check up on his team. “Yen, sitrep?”
“Stragglers neutralized; we’re moving to you now.”
Automatic gunfire erupted as Isaac and Dr. Anderson joined the fight against the Queen, dumping their mags on the creature’s head. The 6.8mm seemed to penetrate well, but he could say the same if they fought an elephant; the Spiranid Queen was simply too large for the relatively small caliber rounds to have any effect besides pissing it off.
The Queen lunged again, its legs surrounding him from all sides. There was only one way out, and it was through the belly of the beast. Henry rushed forward, ducking under the Queen’s mandibles as he slid underneath its abdomen. He fired his shotgun as quickly as he could, unloading pellets into the beast’s underbelly. The white phosphorous scorched the softer flesh, drawing a shriek of pain from the massive creature.
As the Queen writhed under the relentless assault, Ryan and the others seized the moment to reload their weapons and reposition. They poured everything they had into the creature’s cephalothorax, bluish ichor oozing from the hundreds of new wounds that they opened up. Yet, it was like chipping away at a mountain – it simply wasn’t enough. The creature thrashed around violently in response; Henry knew it was only a matter of time before it landed a hit on someone.
And land a hit it did. With a terrifying swiftness, one of its massive legs slammed into Henry’s chest, launching him backward. The shield Kelmithus cast on him flickered as it absorbed the brunt of the impact. He crashed into an egg sac by the entrance – its membrane ruptured on impact, drenching him in a sticky, corrosive slime. The sac provided little cushion, and he hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him.
Pain flared across Henry’s chest where the Queen’s leg had struck him. Gasping for breath and battling the encroaching blackness in his vision, he instinctively checked his envirosuit. He started with the areas he could see, glancing down at his chest. It was visibly deformed, dented but not quite a gash.
Still intact, thank goodness. No breach, but another hit like that would be disastrous. He breathed a sigh of relief, his chest hurting like hell as he did so. He checked his sides and back. Parts of his suit were covered in slime from the egg sac. It didn’t seem as corrosive as the Queen’s acid, but it was still a hazard. Quickly, he swiped at it, removing as much as possible with his gloved hands to prevent further damage.
He forced himself up, grabbing his shotgun from the floor. The Queen was already barreling toward him, the damn monster not letting up. He didn’t have time to make a run for it; he needed to jump to one side or the other, and the timing needed to be perfect. Just as the Queen’s shadow engulfed him, the air turned icy cold, frost creeping up on his visor.
Ice formed from thin air, spearing up from the ground and piercing through the Queen’s legs. The spikes rooted the beast in place. Not one to waste an opportunity, Henry dashed away from the entrance, firing at the immobilized giant spider as he linked up with the others.
“Sera?” Henry asked again.
Sera’s voice came in strained. “Almost…” Then, with a triumphant shout, she announced the word Henry had been desperate to hear. “Done!”
“Owens!” Henry said, risking a glance back.
Ron had already grabbed his Gustaf and was in the process of loading another HEAT round. “On it!”
Henry grinned. It was a relief, to be sure. With Ron free and back in the fight, the odds had just tipped heavily in their favor. The Queen was tough, but it wasn’t invincible; they just needed an opening.
Given the damage the Queen sustained to its body, Henry couldn’t imagine it being in peak fighting condition. Even in its weakened state, though, it still had the capability to dodge Ron’s attack, and it seemed to be saving its web ability for that very inevitability.
“Take out the legs!” Henry ordered.
They combined their fire on the left legs, since Ryan managed to break one of them earlier. He heard a crack that might’ve been the chitin giving way or the leg snapping, but it was hard to tell. He was just about to chalk it up to the prevailing gunfire around them, but then he saw it: a brief stumble. The Queen recovered quickly, but it was clear to Henry that it wouldn’t be able to manage any more damage to its legs.
Then, he noticed a blur in his peripheral vision to his right, moving so fast his eyes could barely keep up. Shit, he was certain he kept track of the Queen’s movements. With the existing damage to his envirosuit, he’d be completely fucked. He braced himself for another impact, but it never came.
As he focused harder on the blur, he caught a glimpse of a flash of light that could only be one thing – Sera’s sword, And, just like a flash of lightning, she had already cleared the vicinity of the Queen. The Queen’s foreleg seemed to simply vanish, severed so cleanly that it took a moment for the beast to realize what had happened. When it did, it let out a screech of pain, its balance faltering as it tried to adapt to the sudden change.
While Henry focused on taking out another leg from the left side, Sera had already shifted to her next target. Their assault was brutal: white phosphorus pellets and hard-hitting 6.8mm on one side, ice magic and skilled swordsmanship on the other. And to think, they managed to inflict all this damage by the time Ron completed his reload.
“Clear the way!” Ron called out, his Gustaf aimed right at the Queen’s head.
Henry jumped back, watching as Kelmithus conjured another set of ice spikes to root the beast again, in case the five obliterated legs weren’t enough to keep it down. The Queen thrashed against the icy bonds, its remaining legs slashing through the air in a frenzied bid for freedom. It spat acid – a tactic that would’ve worked effectively on most other materials, but instead simply got diluted with the melting ice. Even as the acid reacted with the ice, the spikes held firm, anchoring the beast in place like steel cables.
Henry’s heart pounded in his ears. Come on, Owens, he urged silently. Take the shot.
As if on cue, Ron pulled the trigger. The Gustaf bucked in his hands as the HEAT round streaked towards its target. Henry barely had time to brace himself before the explosion hit, the shockwave slamming into him and nearly toppling him over. He staggered back, gazing into the settling dust.
When the smoke cleared, the Queen’s head was obliterated – replaced by a gory mess of shattered chitin and pulverized flesh. Blood sprayed from the gaping hole, covering the ground in a pale blue hue. The creature’s body convulsed, its remaining legs scrabbling weakly at their surroundings.
A surge of triumph washed over Henry, but it was fleeting. From the corner of his eye, he locked on to a glimpse of movement. One of the Queen’s legs continued to spasmodically jerk around and spray the ground with blue ichor. He raised his shotgun in a nonchalant motion and blasted the errant limb, watching as it shuddered and went still.
Sera stepped up, her sword barely catching the light as she jammed it into what was left of the Queen’s thorax. A sharp twist, and it was over. She then yanked the blade from the carcass, her grip shifting subtly along the hilt. As she flicked the sword, frost swiftly coated the ichor clinging to the metal. The frozen debris was flung off, hitting the ground and shattering like glass.
He glanced down at his Holding Bag. Damn, the fight took out most of his shells. Swapping out his shotgun for his M7, he turned to his team and took stock of their condition. It seemed everyone had mostly gone unscathed, only debris and dirt scarring their envirosuits. Well, except for himself and Ron. “Think we’re gonna have to start calling you pinata now,” Henry said, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
Ron scoffed. “Yeah? Says the runner-up,” he said, tapping the dent on Henry’s envirosuit. “Better ‘pinata’ than ‘roadkill’, though. But seriously, what’s next? Don’t even know where to start.”
The room was empty, save for the debris strewn about and the singular obelisk standing in the center of the room. He didn’t notice it earlier, but as he got closer, he realized that the obelisk emitted a faint light that barely escaped the canopy of webs. He looked it up and down before turning to the others. “Only one place to start. Let’s clear out the webs, see what’s hiding below.”
“Doc, Kel, clear out the eggs. Hayes, Sera, see if the Queen’s got anything useful. Everyone else focus on the webs,” Henry ordered.
Ron drew his knife and started slicing through the dense cobwebs. “Hey, what y’all think the Queen’s Tier is?”
Isaac paused to consider. “Eh, Tier 8, probably. Minotaur boss and Rillifane boss were both Tier 8, so I’d say the spider’s around the same level.”
“Well, the resilience of the specimen isn’t a definitive measure of the Tier,” Dr. Anderson pointed out. “It’s quite possible that we merely had the most suitable tools at hand in this particular encounter.”
“The scholar speaks truly,” Sera agreed. “There is nary a defining criterion; defense is but one of many that are considered by the Guild. Were it so simple, Kelmithus and I would have attained Tier 9 ere now.”
“So, what do you think the Queen is, then? Tier 7 maybe?” Ron asked.
Henry shook his head. Tier 7 didn’t seem accurate. Using his knife to scrape some of the webbing off his glove, he voiced, “Spiranids are weak in general, but are classified as Tier 5 or higher because of their traps, ambush tactics, numbers, and abilities. Archers can use Wind Snipe and mages can use wide-area spellcasting, but they can’t reliably penetrate the exoskeleton’s armor. If anything, this is probably on the lower end of Tier 9.”
“Tier 9, huh?” Isaac muttered.
Sera smiled as she stood back. She stuffed a frost-covered gland into her holding bag and paused from her work as she chimed in, “Hmm… how keen. I expected nothing less from the first Tier 6 entrants in Eldralore’s history! It shows plain why the Guild did so swiftly raise you.”
“Hah,” Henry chuckled. It was an amusing thought, but… “Say, ya think we can get to Tier 7 after this?”
Sera’s eyebrows shot up. “Tier 7? A mark of no slight merit. What have you achieved since attaining Tier 6?”
Henry reached to scratch his chin, then cursed softly as his glove thudded against his visor. “Well, we took down a Rillifane pack, a Sentinel Lindwyrm, and now this primal Spiranid Queen. That’s not too shabby, eh?”
“Firm victories,” Sera admitted, “but advancement weighs more than battle alone. The Guild also considers quest difficulty, knowledge gained therefrom, and impact – in other words, glory.”
“The Baranthurian Ruins,” Dr. Anderson blurted, taking the words out of Henry’s mouth. He turned to Kelmithus, who approached them after confirming that the eggs had been cleared out. “Surely, working with the Sanctum Arcanum must be quite the honour. The Guild holds their quests with high esteem, wouldn’t you say?”
Kelmithus nodded, burning a clump of disposed webs on the ground. “True as that may be, advancement oft hinges upon the cumulative experience of dozens of quests.”
“Well, ain’t no small feats for us lately,” Ryan remarked. “The quest to the Baranthurian ruins, what was it, Tier 8? Yeah, that was Tier 8. Sentinel Lindwyrm? Hell, Tier Nine. That there beast?” Ryan pointed his gun at the carcass of the Spiranid Queen. “Tier 9 as well.”
Ron interjected, “Plus we’ve been helping out along the way, like those villagers, and taking on quests others won’t touch. Honestly, the Hardale quest should be pretty weighty too, considering the Nobian shenanigans.”
Sera hummed, mulling over Alpha Team’s experiences. The fact that most of their quests at Tier 6 had essentially been Tier 7 quests or higher in difficulty was probably unheard of in the Guild. Not only that, but they’d been able to complete these difficult quests successfully. Hell, with flying colors, even. That had to count for something.
Henry looked over at Sera, stepping back as he allowed Kelmithus to dispose of the webs that he had cleared out. “So, whaddya think? Based on what we’ve done, you think we got a shot at Tier 7?”
Sera looked up at the ceiling as she weighed her response. “Ehh, you’ve a strong case. Alas, it’s Taldren’s call to make. His favor seems yours, though; I wager he’ll agree.”
Henry grinned. Moving up meant they could have access to more quests. Naturally, that also meant better rewards and in turn, access to some truly magical equipment. “Good to hear. Guess we’ll see to it once we get back to Eldralore. Now, we should probably –”
A soft glow of light gradually lit up the room, interrupting Henry mid-sentence. He squinted, readying his weapon. The light came from the walls and ceiling, illuminating the once-dark chamber. The obelisk, now free of webs, now hummed… healthily? It wasn’t like he had a manual to tell him if this was a good or bad development, but judging from the facility’s reaction, it must’ve worked.
Henry glanced at his HUD. The temperature readings were rising, too. The icy chill from Kelmithus’ magic rapidly dissipated as the environmental controls kicked in. “Well, looks like we’ve done all we can here. Let’s head back to the containment cell room and see if we can find anything else of interest.”
– – –
Outskirts of GB-2, Grenden Forest
Carvus Alnect Virelius narrowed his gaze toward the brightening sky, his eyes cutting through the retreating mist that had long veiled the forest’s canopy. This unprecedented clarity above the ruins was strange. After centuries cloaked in an impenetrable fog, why did the skies clear now?
The Umber Vicearch’s mind worked like a whetstone, sharpening the fragments of reports from his scouts, cryptic as they were. The recent skirmish, occurring concurrently with the lifting fog, could not be mere happenstance. Regardless of the answer, the unexpected fold presented a welcome complexity to test his mettle.
He set his thoughts aside as the sound of footsteps approached.
“Leuarch Eldreyn reporting, milord,” one of his men said. “We’ve word from Serarch Trelian.”
Carvus gave him a nod to continue.
Eldreyn relayed the news. “The scouts espy traces of battle: a fallen Sentinel Lindwyrm and two carriages left abandoned near the cave’s entrance. The land bears scars from some form of magic, strewn with strange metal tubes and other objects unknown to us. Save for the Lindwyrm, no other bodies are to be found. What are your commands, milord?”
Carvus took a deep breath. No other bodies? Two carriages? That such a formidable creature was felled with no apparent casualties among their ranks suggested a small but extraordinarily capable force. Each member was no doubt Tier 7 at the least. The limited number of carriages implied a party not larger than ten. But… what could the metal objects mean?
Powerful though they might be, could such a small group withstand his numbers? Carvus entertained the thought briefly. No, direct confrontation would be unwise. The site bore secrets too vital to squander on rash gambles. Better to maneuver them into a position where the only viable option would be to comply with his demands.
“Hold our position, Lornus,” Carvus commanded. While he preferred the safety of their hidden vantage in the forest, the intrigue of Trelian’s findings – the slain Lindwyrm – was too compelling to ignore. “The contents of Trelian’s report compel our own investigation. Lead us, that we might see for ourselves.”
“As you command, milord.”
It was a short walk to the clearing. As they reached the treeline, Carvus held up a hand, signaling his men to halt – they should go no further than the cover of the forest. The aftermath of the battle lay evident before them. The massive form of the Sentinel Lindwyrm sprawled near the far side of the clearing, its outline murky at a distance.
Carvus squinted, adjusting his position slightly for a better view. He felt his jaw drop, a lapse in composure that surprised even him. Yet, who could fault him? The beast lay nearly torn asunder, its massive body riddled with gaping, jagged wounds that no sword or arrow could inflict. Indeed, not even traditional siege weapons or combat spells could inflict such damage.
The destructive capability of fyric powder was well-known to him – he had seen its use in adamantite mines. The wounds on the Lindwyrm, however, spoke of a force of another Tier entirely. Where fyric powder might clear a path through a stubborn boulder, the agent used against the Sentinel Lindwyrm seemed capable of obliterating several boulders at once, perhaps even an entire cliffside.
Turning his attention from the ravaged beast, he scanned the battlefield. Among the chaos, his eyes caught the glint of metal – strange tubes scattered about, all some lighter shade of bronze. The craters were blackened and littered with debris: shards of metal mixed with wires. This was clearly no ordinary skirmish.
He moved closer to the tree line, cautiously examining the unfamiliar objects. The metal tubes bore no resemblance to any weapons known to Nobian forces. However, their presence here implied that somehow, these objects were related to the catastrophic wounds on the Lindwyrm.
Near the cave’s entrance, two metal carriages lay abandoned. Their exteriors were marred by dirt and marked with an array of dents that appeared to be from the Lindwyrm’s armored tail. The carriages, in style and make, aligned with reports of American machines observed by their Umbercari in distant Eldralore. Mounted atop each was a long cylinder. As foreign as they were, he could tell they were weapons – ones capable of unleashing formidable destruction.
Adventurers throughout the ages had ventured here, all repelled by the formidable Lindwyrm that long guarded these grounds. Had it been folly to devote their resources to the conquest of their neighbors, rather than to mastering and exploiting this site? Such questions surpassed his station, yet irrespective of the answers, the Emperor would surely take no pleasure in learning that he had allowed Americans to plunder the Gatebuilder’s secrets.
Carvus turned to Lornus. “Bid our scouts to investigate the cave.” As Leuarch Eldreyn departed to carry out the orders, he beckoned to one of his serarchs. “Bring me one of those metal tubes. I wish to examine it.”
He sat on a rock, watching the light bend around the man’s form until he vanished from sight. The serarch then adjusted the temperature around his body, matching it to that of the forest. Were it not for the subtle shifts in the man’s mana as he held the spells, Carvus would have surely lost track of him.
The serarch made his way forth, passing through the trees and into the clearing beyond. With haste, he seized upon one of the tubes that lay scattered about, and then, as quick as he had come, he turned and made his way back to the forest’s edge. When at last he returned, Carvus stood up and held out his hand.
The tube, lighter than its solidity might have portended, was chill to the touch and was marked by a patina that showed clear signs of bending. He tried to bend it with his fingers, but the metal resisted. Even when he used magic to strengthen himself, it yielded naught but scant impression. What could have possibly moved the metal?
Looking closely, he noticed that the metal wasn’t bronze, as he had first thought. Though bearing a hue akin to bronze, it was of a kind unfamiliar to him. The surface was engraved with American script – characters and sequences that held little meaning to him. Yet, to deem the letters ‘engraved’ would be to err; it was as if they were imprinted with a craftsmanship nary a smith could rival.
He turned it over in his hands, his eyes drawn to a circular groove near the base. Examining both ends, Carvus noted the open end was distorted as if a great force had expelled something from within – an insight into his previous question. The other end was sealed, marked by a small, precise indentation. He held it up, aligning it with a similarly sized hole in a nearby tree.
This was no common weapon. As a trebuchet releases its load, so too must this tube have hurled its own projectile. It gave him an idea. What if one were to use an adamantite tube with fyric powder, place a keen arrowhead atop, and ignite the mixture below? Would it rival a standard Wind Snipe combined with physical enhancement magic?
Carvus’ thoughts were interrupted by someone calling out to him. “Milord.”
“Hm?” He looked up, finding the face of Leuarch Franus. “What is it, Martano?”
He hesitated, as if second-guessing his words. “The… The Lindwyrm… The men grow restless, milord. They wish to claim the spoils of this battle – the Sentinel Lindwyrm’s materials are prized in many a lore. And these carriages, would it not profit us to salvage what we can? They may hold more secrets – or riches.”
He turned the leuarch’s words over in his mind as he would a well-worn coin. In truth, the idea held merit. Even the smallest measure of a Lindwyrm’s blood was a treasure beyond compare – to say nothing of the other materials, sought after by alchemists and smiths alike. That the Americans had forgone harvest was a curious thing indeed. Could it be that they were ignorant of the creature’s true worth? Or perhaps, had they found something more valuable?
And then there were the carriages, gleaming in the sun like ripe fruit waiting to be plucked. If they could but glean some understanding of how the Americans had so deftly slain a beast of the Lindwyrm’s standing, it would surely prove a boon to the Empire’s own martial pursuits. Perhaps, armed with such knowledge, they might at last gain the upper hand against the accursed Sonarans.
Carvus cast his gaze once more upon the clearing, then turned to face Martano. “Aye,” he said. “Let it be so.”
Yet, as he made to step forth, a low, droning sound beckoned his attention – a buzzing hum that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The unfamiliar noise compelled him to halt. He raised his hand, stopping his men as he searched for the noise. He tilted his head skyward, squinting as he beheld a strange sight: a winged thing hanging in the air above the clearing, like an animal circling its prey. As the sunlight reflected off its surface, it became evident to him that this was no creature of flesh, but a machine – much like the metal carriages.
“Hold,” Carvus ordered. “We dare not venture forth.”
Martano stepped forward, doubt and confusion etched across his face. “But, milord, if we shroud ourselves in invisibility, surely they cannot see us.”
Carvus shook his head. “Nay; recall the umbercari we sent to infiltrate the Duke’s mansion. They, too, thought themselves hidden, yet were somehow discovered. We know not what sorcery that flying machine might possess, and we cannot risk exposing ourselves.”
Before Martano could respond or venture any further protest, the scouts returned, led by Serarch Trelian. The search bowed his head before providing his report, “Milord, the cave lies empty, and the Lindwyrm’s nest remains untouched. We discovered footprints leading to a great sealed door, which we believe to be the entrance to the ruins.”
Carvus nodded. The Americans had ventured forth and left the loot behind for a reason. He thought back to a fortress that the Empire once sacrificed to encircle the forces of the now-conquered Kingdom of Durenelle. “So be it. Let us abandon these lesser spoils. As our adversaries have forgone these spoils in pursuit of greater gains, so must we sacrifice Straltus.”
Next

Heyo everyone,
First of all, thank you wonderful people for joining me here. Firstly a short Overview of the setting, some ideas for the story and then i will throw a few extras in at the end. Would be happy to hear everyones thoughts to all of this, what you love or hate, what kind of cool and crazy ideas you have for me and yeah thats it actually :D Lets get into it.
System: i will be using the Cypher system, as it gives me the Narative focus with plenty of customization and adaptiblity. I havent been doing too much with it yet, but i really like it already from readying and listening a bit to plays.
Setting: This is where it gets mythical. So imagine a world just like ours. Actually exactly our world. A few years in the future some archelogists and divers find Pandoras Box hidden on a greek island in an underwater cave with plenty of warning. and even logbook with it. Its Odyseus's logbook, in which he mentioned he trapped all the gods and magic in that box with the help of Circe and a few of the other more benevolent gods. Thus started the golden age of humanity where they didnt have to worry about annoying a bunch of superpowerful self absorbed mythical assholes on Olympus.
Surprisingly, the archelogists actually listened to Odyseus warning and decided that some mysteries might be better left unsolved. The box was left open to allow the world the speculate. Not long after that, the box was the most important and most talked about object in the world. It even went on a world tour through the biggest museums. That was until it arrived in America. In the years since 2024, interest in Social media and influencers only increased, causing people to do anything for clicks and likes. And one particular idiot went as far as sneaking a gun into a museum to shoot open pandoras box live on Stream.
Not long after that, 90% of the world population died. As the contained magic exploded forth and spread across the world in light speed, it wrecked havoc across the whole world, changing the land, the animals and the people. Monsters reappered, The gods made their anger at their imprisonment clear to anyone they could and the world offically ended on that day.
Now, 40 days in the future, North America is a wasteland generally regarded as inhabitable due to the high concentration of Mana there, which is toxic to Humans. Most people live in Europe, Africa, Asia and australia, or whats left of it anyways. Famine and war are standard. Some people are training to use magic themselves, others devote themselves to hunting the new monsters for their rare parts, others integrate magic into technology for wonderous creations and most just try to survive in small communities. Most people avoid the gods at all cost, some have formed into cults for them while the rare few attempt to rebel (which often ends in gruesome deaths).
Now the players find themselves in a familar yet unknown world, Magic everywhere to be found, Horrible creatures ready to feast on them around each corner, Ruined cities promising loot and danger, Technology growing rapidly thanks to magic and Powerful beings toying with them for their amusement.
Adventure: So I want to sent the players to North america as part of a huge strikeforce to retrieve a part of pandoras box for study to maybe capture the gods again. obviously this will be a huge secret, they will think its to retrieve vital knowledge to fight a spreading plague as will most of the expiditions members to avoid the eyes of the gods. They will be teleported to America through a new device, but will be forced to travel back on their own accord. Which will lead them to a container ship that holds their strikeforce and some survivors they will find to travel back over the ocean. TIME FOR AN ODYSEE. Everything will go wrong on the trip, i wanna challange the players with impossible emotional choices like maybe during a famine on board some passangers will eat the dead. Should they be punished? Or when the ship is hit by a monster, should we seal a part of the ship to prevent more of the ship taking in water, even if most people couldnt evacuate yet.
I want the players to distinguish themselves during their time in NA to allow them to tale the command of the ship, maybe the commander of the expdition is heavily wounded ( dont want to kill them off, because someone gotta reveal they carry a shard of the box with them). That way all of the decision will be upon them.
I want them to also meet poseidon, who will be their main villain. He will attack them multiple times and the only way they will survive is often with big casualties, with help of other gods or magical artifacts. Other gods will be involved too. Maybe someone from the backgrounds of the player gets involved to murder them. And the two gods trying to kill them , with the bickering giving them a way to escape. In the end they can either kill a god using the piece of the box, or bring the piece home for future use. Will they be able to protect themselves and their people from poseidon, or do they have to strike his heart with their piece of pandoras box. When presented with an opportunity to kill another god, the god who hurt the players the most by killing family and friends, will they take this chance or will they be able to control their rage.
I want to leave this very open ended, just with many encounters ready to go if the opportunity present itself.
And i have to say, Epic: the musical was a big part of the inspiration, just want to give credit where its due. Absolutly amazing.
Here id be happy to hear your ideas. Anything is fine, good or bad opinions. Really just collecting thoughts now.
Some other cool things about the world i will include: Shades: when people were hit by the explosion of mana from the opening of the box, most disintegrated instantly. Some left behind a shade made of pure mana. Those shades are like ghosts on autopilot that follow the routine of the person that it once was. They are usually neutral just doing their thing, but if they sense a disturbance to their regular routine, they will react hostile. As incorperal beings they are incredibly difficult to stop unless you possess magic. They will use the mana inside them to overload you and kill you slow and painfully
Mana/magic: so mana is plentiful and everywhere. It can be used to cast spells and empower oneself. How to do this, is a difficult skill the players will learn during their adventure. The only problem is that mana is toxic to humans as our bodies evolved something like mana allergy. Players can cast spells from their internal force as well if they have one (like divine power born with or purified mana they gained through meditation) so caster classes have a few safe options. But in the end, i want players to pursue a game of risk and reward, by drawing on the mana around them, giving them abilities but also causing many negative effects.

In my opinion that's how Overguard should have been shipped as: Sentient Adaptation for other factions.
Instead of being completely immune to CC they are affected, but they grow immune to it over the span of 4 or 6 seconds. For example: If you freeze Sentients with Limbo, after some seconds they will start to move and after another couple of seconds they will be completely immune to it. That's exactly how CC should work on Overguard.
The Meta was already shifting to DPS when the Eximus were reworked, now CC can't even be compared to DPS. Why would I use a Warframe who needs to CC Enemies to stay alive and will struggle against Eximus, when I can use a DPS Warframe and just.... don't care?
And this breach between DPS and CC is growing larger with each update, because we keep getting stuff to buff our DPS but not our ability to CC Enemies. For example we were given Archon Shards that buff the base stat of Ability Strength by 10% (15% Tau) up to 50% (75% Tau). A 75% increase to the base Strength of a Warframe is insane and Im still surprised DE added such a thing to the game. And yet we never got Ability Range Shards (the ones I wanted for my Oberon, Frost and Vauban) because yeah they would make CC Abilities better, but they would also make the DPS Meta even more broken.
I kinda feel like DE bottlenecked the Meta into DPS and now even trying to balance CC could break the whole game.
Anyhow, I dont think having CC affect Overguard (for only a couple of seconds) would break the meta, after all Damaging Abilities DO affect Overguard and you can just pop that Overguard easily that way. Ive been using DPS frames myself and they are a breeze for end-game content of course, but I miss by CC guys. Oberon is a top tier Tank and Frost now has a Crit Meta going for him because of the Cold Status rework so I can still play them in challenging content, but Vauban and Limbo got the hsort end of the stick, they are really frustrating to play in end-game content.

Σternal Kappa
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https://swgoh.gg/g/SfnB9bQET4ufnBRZwbJkpQ/
Relaxed group of active and social members! Looking for positive vibes as we continue to grow!
The Eternal Empire is a family of 7 independently run guilds and home to 400 players. We support all level of players from beginners to experienced, end-game all-heroic competitors. Guild GPs range from 325M - 550M+. All active & dedicated players are welcome! We understand that life happens & take that into consideration. We share one Discord server where we have the tools, bots, resources & seasoned advice to help guide you as you progress. Our motto is: “We build together, we grow TOGETHER!”.
49/50 Members, 450M+ GP
1:30 UTC / 20:30 EST / 17:30 PST Guild Reset
REQUIREMENTS:

• 9M+ GP, exceptions can be made for the right focused roster
  
• 500 Tickets Daily
  
• Active Discord Use
  
• Active in ALL Guild Events
  

TB:
32 ⭐️ Rise of the Empire TB & 29+ Reva Shard (34 Reva Ready)
We Use EchoBot for Platoon Assignments
TW:
7-3 Record in last 10 matches We have a dedicated Discord channel for TW Adaptive strategy depending on our opponent & team readiness
RAIDS: Endor Speeder Bike Event (208M Crate)
Discord: https://discord.gg/RrKJyy42cD
JOIN THE ETERNAL EMPIRE!!!
HOW TO JOIN US: Please come to our Discord server & an Officer will help you! We want EVERYONE to succeed & are constantly looking to improve on what we're doing to help all within our collective of :eight: independently run guilds. We are an established guild with active players who are looking for like-minded, common-sense individuals to join us for the growth & benefit of all!

Σternal Kappa
GUILD INFO:
https://swgoh.gg/g/SfnB9bQET4ufnBRZwbJkpQ/
Relaxed group of active and social members! Looking for positive vibes as we continue to grow!
The Eternal Empire is a family of 7 independently run guilds and home to 400 players. We support all level of players from beginners to experienced, end-game all-heroic competitors. Guild GPs range from 325M - 550M+. All active & dedicated players are welcome! We understand that life happens & take that into consideration. We share one Discord server where we have the tools, bots, resources & seasoned advice to help guide you as you progress. Our motto is: “We build together, we grow TOGETHER!”.
49/50 Members, 480M+ GP
1:30 UTC / 20:30 EST / 17:30 PST Guild Reset
REQUIREMENTS:

• 9M+ GP, exceptions can be made for the right focused roster
  
• 500 Tickets Daily
  
• Active Discord Use
  
• Active in ALL Guild Events
  

TB:

• 32 ⭐️ Rise of the Empire TB & 29+ Reva Shard (34 Reva Ready)

We Use EchoBot for Platoon Assignments
TW:
*7-3 Record in last 10 matches We have a dedicated Discord channel for TW Adaptive strategy depending on our opponent & team readiness
RAIDS: Endor Speeder Bike Raid (208M Crate)
Discord: https://discord.gg/RrKJyy42cD
JOIN THE ETERNAL EMPIRE!!!
HOW TO JOIN US: Please come to our Discord server & an Officer will help you! We want EVERYONE to succeed & are constantly looking to improve on what we're doing to help all within our collective of :eight: independently run guilds. We are an established guild with active players who are looking for like-minded, common-sense individuals to join us for the growth & benefit of all!

I've been meaning to make this post for a while but life kept getting in the way.
There is a bunch of new (well, new to me) stuff I've discovered over the last few weeks, and wanted to share my thoughts with you.
Let's start with the "prequel" (although never canonically confirmed) to the Marathon series was a game called Pathways to Darkness. The backstory for this game is:

Sixty-four million years ago, a large extra-terrestrial object struck the Earth in what would later be called the Yucatan Peninsula, in south eastern Mexico. The dust and rock thrown up by the resulting explosion caused enormous climactic changes in the ensuing years, and many of the Earth's species became extinct during the long winter that followed.
The object itself was buried thousands of feet below ground, its nearly two kilometer length remarkably intact. It remained there, motionless, for thousands of years before it finally began to stir-- and to dream.

Hmm. Buried below ground. Finally beginning to stir and dream. Who does that sound like?
Let's keep going.

The heat of impact liquefied the rock around it, which later cooled and encased the dead god's huge body far below ground. As it began to dream, it wrought unintentional changes in its environment. Locked deep beneath the Earth, strange and unbelievable things faded in and out of reality. Vast caverns and landscapes bubbled to life within the rock, populated by horrible manifestations of the dead god's dream.

As it began to dream, it wrought unintentional changes in its environment.. Locked deep beneath the Earth, strange and unbelievable things faded in and out of reality.
Like Fingerrats? Or like Spider-wolves?

Vast caverns and landscapes bubbled to life within the rock, populated by horrible manifestations of the dead god's dream.

Caverns and landscapes. I want to expand this point here for a bit because it's also mirrored across Alagaesia.
Let's start with Helgrind.
For any FV enjoyers, I've previously speculated that Helgrind is a reliquary, or a previously living being that was transformed (a la Ctein).
But the curious thing here is the timeline of Helgrind and it's tunnel system, taken with the above context.

Q: Assuming it wasn't built by the Ra'zac themselves, was the lair inside Helgrind purpose-built for the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka, or did they appropriate it some time after it was built? If it wasn't built for them, what was its original purpose?
A: Partially natural formations (linked to tunnels elsewhere in Alagaësia), partly expanded by the priests of Helgrind and Galbatorix himself.

But... The Ra'Zac didn't inhabit Helgrind until at least after the Humans came over. So these tunnels underneath Helgrind existed before the Ra'Zac, or Galbatorix ever set foot on Alagaesia. Which, I don't know about you, but a massive network of tunnels does not smell entirely natural to me.
So.. where else are there "natural" formations that link to other tunnels elsewhere in Alagaesia?
We've seen these "natural" formations in Vroengard:

Q: The deeps under Vroengard, were they created by the riders or was it a previous system of caverns that they repurposed?
A: Previous system. I mean, there's been work done on them, but... 'It looks similar, parts of it feel similar to the caverns that we encountered in this book. They both have that hole in the cave which goes deeper, with something in the hole that's not clearly defined.' Yeah.

And we've seen similar depictions in the Beors, and Nal Gorgoth. So from the Beors to Vroengard, "natural" tunnels exist underground. I don't buy that they are entirely natural.
Given the context of the Marathon game above:

Vast caverns and landscapes bubbled to life within the rock, populated by horrible manifestations of the dead god's dream.

I think these tunnels came from Azlagur.
Let's switch gears here, I want to talk about another archaeological mystery in the world of Eragon - El-Harim.
I believe El-Harim was heavily influenced by the (not canon confirmed, but implied) prequel to the Marathon games, the Pathways into Darkness

Pathways casts the player as a member of a US Army Special Forces team sent on a mission to the Yucatán Peninsula. On May 5, 1994, a diplomat from the alien race known as the Jjaro appeared to the President of the United States and informed him that on May 13, an ancient godlike being sleeping beneath a pyramid would awaken and destroy the Earth. The only way to prevent this catastrophe is to prevent the god from awakening. The eight-man Special Forces team carries a nuclear weapon, with the goal of entering the ancient pyramid, descending to the bottom level where the god sleeps, and activating the bomb to stun the god and bury it under tons of rock.

Getting into a bit more of the backstory:

Only during the last few centuries has the god begun to effect changes on the surface of the Earth. Grotesque creatures have been sighted deep in the trackless forest of the Yucatan, and strange rumors of an ancient pyramid-- which is neither Aztec nor Mayan-- in the same area have been circulating in the archaeological community since the early 1930's.

Pyramid, eh? There are two different options here I can think of that equate.
The extended FWW Map
First, in the extended map from FWW, we can see a Pyramid-esque shape - Different color, different slope, etc.
Or, second (and probably more likely), it could be El-Harim:

It is a very bad place. It’s a place where some bad things happened at one point and it’s not a good place to go walking around. I don’t want to get into it too much more because again, it’s a good possibility for another story and I want to keep thinking about it a bit more. It is in Alagaesia and we’ve actually been close to the location.

Many speculate that the below vision from Eragon in Brisingr, which was never explained in the main cycle, is of El-Harim:

And he rested, and visions beset him of a circular stone city that stood in the center of an endless plain and of a small girl who wandered among the narrow, winding alleys within and who sang a haunting melody (A Feast with Friends, Brisingr).

If this vision IS El-Harim , it's super significant because of these two descriptors:

circular stone city
narrow, winding alleys

Fractals. The city itself is a fractal, like Nidus for any FV enjoyers.
The narrow winding alleys are significant because of the descriptors of the Vanished/Grey folk:

The spaces between the structures were narrower than the humans preferred; the proportions were taller, thinner, which matched the images she had seed of the Vanished...
The ancient outline of the city was - as she suspected - a fractal, and the shape of it contained meaning.... At the nexus of the apttern, where it coiled in on itslef like a nautilus shell" (Shards, TSIASOS).

Narrow. Circular (Nautilus shell). Winding. Fractal.
Whatever this city is, El-Harim or otherwise, it is/was a grey folk/vanished city.
And given the quotes from above - "Its a place where some bad things happened at one point", and "dangerous, creeping, ancient, evil thing" - My guess is that the event that caused the Grey Folk to bind the AL to magic happened here, in El-Harim.
Alright, moving along.
Let's talk about the Az and the God. There are a few parallels I've talked around, but the BIG link between the two are Dreams. This is especially important because of the release of the world map recently.

We are the devotees of Azlagur, the Devourer. Azlagur the Firstborn. Azlagur the Dreamer. He who sleeps and whose sleeping mind weaves the warp and weft of the waking world. But the sleep grows restless" (Obliteration, Murtagh).

Versus

As it began to dream, it wrought unintentional changes in its environment. Locked deep beneath the Earth, strange and unbelievable things faded in and out of reality. Vast caverns and landscapes bubbled to life within the rock, populated by horrible manifestations of the dead god's dream.

I could write a whole post about the parallels between the two and their linkage to dreams, but I'll cut it short here for now to save room to dig in to other areas. Specifically, the Dreams connection is especially important because of the relase of the world map recently - I have another post here that gets into more detail, but the translations from the World Map in the middle translate to:

where dreams and dragons dwell

Dreams (!) and Dragons.
Combine that with the Etymology of the words:

Alagaësia ala = land gaësia = rich/fertile
Alalëa ala = land lëa = a beautiful dream
Elëa = the dream itself

So the planet, named Elea, translates to "The Dream Itself". Very interesting.
This is even more significant when you take into account this tweet chain from Chris, a bit earlier in March

Darn it. Just invented a name in the ancient language. Googled it to make sure no one else had used it ... only to discover that I had used it in an earlier book. Lol.
Can we ask what name?
Edurna

I believe the name was a potential candidate for the name of the planet of Alagaesia, which is important because of the etymology of THAT name (All credit to Zora for digging this one up).

Edurna sounds awfully like Adurna and Edur
Adurna meaning water and Edur being a prominence

Prominence. And Water. You know what that sounds like to me? Plaintive Verge. Just food for thought.
Second-to-last Az connection I want to cover: Hunger.

Whirling darkness swallowed him, and at the center of it... lay a formless horror - ancient and evil and from which emanated a constant merciless hunger (Dreams and Portents).

Versus a quote about the cosmic entity in Marathon:

Now I fear what that weapon has unleashed will destroy us. I once boasted to be able to count the atoms in a cloud, to understand them all, predict them, and so did I predict you, but this new chaos is entirely terrible, mindless, obeying rules that I don't comprehend. And it is hungry.

Now, the last piece of Azlagur-related lore I want to cover here is the "Black Sun".
In all of the visions, a Black Sun precipitates Azlagur's rise.

"A black sun rimmed by black flame hung against a darkling sky... The beast rose rampant against the black sun - A wingless dragon, apocalyptic in size, terrifying in presence. Destroyer of hope, eater of light"

Before getting into the Black Sun a bit more, there's an additional connection here I want to touch on - usage of the word rampant in connection with Azlagur.

In Marathon, Rampancy is the enhanced self-awareness of a computer AI, causing a progression towards greater mental abilities and destructive impulses. The destructive impulses, however, are primarily caused by being threatened or harassed. There are three main stages, as well as a fourth and final stage that is rarely achieved, to rampancy, named by the primary attitude of the AI during those times: Melancholia, Anger, Jealousy, and Meta-Stability.

There are some overlaps with what we see from the Maw.
And Melancholia.. that's an interesting word. Especially when taken into context the meaning of the name:

A melancholy dream of great beauty.

Melancholy.. Dream... The pieces of the puzzle are coming together. And Rampant...
Chris also uses that exact same verbiage when discussing a deleted scene from TSIASOS:

Q: I just finished reading To Sleep in a Sea of Stars and I have to know: it sounds like the Wranaui fought the corrupted during the Sundering but if that's true and it happened almost 300 years prior.... Who created the old corrupted? I've been questioning this for days!
A: That was actually in material cut by editors (some of the dream memories). Another Seed/Idealis was damaged and, when the Old Ones tried to separate it from its host, the xeno went rampant.

The xeno went rampant. Very interesting.
Alrighty, I keep getting distracted, back to the black sun.
The reason the Black Sun is important is because it always precipitates Azlagur's rise, throughout several of Murtahgh's visions. In each of them, there is a Black sun.
So, by this, we can extrapolate that the sun needs to be Black in order for Azlagur to rise (which is hinted at at the "Day of Black Sun" celebrations near the end of the book).
But... what does it actually mean?
There is a parallel in Marathon, their weapon:

The trih xeem (also "tri xeem") is an extremely powerful weapon that can be used to force a star into early nova... it was originally conceived and built by the Jjaro [The Old Ones/Vanished equivalent]. Much of the Marathon Infinity story revolves around preventing the Pfhor from using the tri xeem and inadvertently releasing a W'rkncacnter that is supposedly trapped within the Lh'owon sun.

So, the story of the last Marathon games revolves around preventing the usage of the weapon to release the cosmic-level baddie trapped in the sun. So, effectively, the antagonist is imprisoned by the sun.
But.. how does that translate to Azlagur and Murtagh?
The Black Sun requirement for Azlagur's rise could be construed as "imprisonment" by the sun; Azlagur cannot escape until the sun is turned Black. But it only really starts to come together when you piece together these pictures.
First, early concept art for the Fractalverse
You see the black orb, heading directly for the glowing star? Sounds pretty similar.
But that's not the smoking gun; look at the depiction of the black orb in the concept art, and compare it to the trih xeem, the weapon in Marathon.
A black orb with a trail heading directly for the sun. Almost an exact match.
OK.. so I get that it has some relevence in fractalverse, but how does it translate to Eragon?
Well, because of the Beors. Specifically, a picture CHRIS HIMSELF posted about the Beors.
Here
I propose that THIS black orb, at the top of the Beors (which, suspiciously, no one has traveled to) houses the black weapon. After all, the depiction is quite similar - A large, circular, black orb. Looks pretty similar to the other pictures.
And given the above context that Azlagur can only rise with a "Black Sun", the pieces all start to fit together. It's not perfect, but there are definitely a lot of overlaps.
Alright. I've been waiting for this one. The last piece. Let's talk about Angela.
Q: Will we get Angela lore? I feel like she could have killed Galbatorix and just didn't feel like it.
A: For those who don't know Angela is based on my sister Angela, because she breaks the fourth wall to a degree she has. Not only does she have plot armor, she knows she's in a story and can break the story itself. So, yes, she could have killed Galbatorix, but that would have made for a very bad story. That said, I do have an entire book planned around Angela, and it's very high on my list of books to write because it takes place before some of these other big stories I want to write. And that's also the difficult thing. I have my big storylines, and then I have a couple of one off side books I want to write, and it's just a question of time, energy and effort.
She knows she's in a story, and she can break the story.
Based on that, and several other descriptions I will get into in a bit, I think her story is directly related to the Marathon Infinity game.

Marathon Infinity begins as the Pfhor destroy Lh'owon using a Jjaro-derived doomsday weapon known as the Trih Xeem or "early nova". Unfortunately, the weapon also releases a powerful chaotic being: The W’rkncacnter, which threatens to destroy the entire galaxy. Because of the W’rkncacnter's chaos or by means of some Jjaro tech of his own, the player is transported back and forward in time, finding himself jumping between timelines and fighting for various sides in a desperate attempt to prevent the chaotic being's release.

and

In Marathon Infinity, a W'rkncacnter is imprisoned in the sun of planet Lh'owon. It is theorized by some that the W'rkncacnter's powerfully chaotic nature may be responsible for the jumps between realities seen in the game. When the Pfhor use a trih xeem device to send the star into early nova, the creature is released, to the horror and destruction of the Pfhor.

Angela is the Eragon-equivalent of the player.
She can transport back and forward in time, jumping between timelines, and fighting to prevent the chaotic being's (Azlagur's) release. Let's dive in.
First:

Q: Is it canon that Angela the Herbalist is a Time Lord and did she make a cameo in To Sleep in a Sea of Stars?
A: Is Angela the Herbalist is a Time Lord? That would be copyright infringement, so I'm going to say "no comment", but she is in To Sleep in a Sea of Stars. And there is a canon reason for this. And you should have no problem spotting who she is in that book.

So there's a canon reason she's in the book. Interesting. When you take that into context with the next bit

Q: On your last AMA on reddit, someone asked if any fan had guessed the identity and history of Angela correctly. You said nobody has guessed correctly and there's not enough information in the books to do so. That puts every fan theory out there on her wrong, correct? She's not the soothsayer, a time lord, grey folk, etc, correct?
A: Angela: Some of the fan theories have gotten parts of her history and identity correct. However, there's a HUGE aspect to her nature that no one has guessed (or least, not in a non-joking way). And no, I don't mean her being a Time Lord.

So there's a huge aspect to her nature that no one has guessed (at least at the time of writing). She's self-aware, knows she's in a story, and can jump around in time. And, similar to the Marathon games, it appears like only she knows that she's in a story.
So, based on the Marathon inspiration, we can guess that she is trying to accomplish the same thing - To prevent the release of the cosmic-level villain. We know that she has some kind of relationship with the Draumar:

In Murtagh, it’s revealed that Bachel and “Uluthrek” (Mooneater, Angela’s given Urgal name) met with Bachel explicitly going out to confront her (a courtesy not even offered to a Rider like Murtagh)

So, by extension, she has some kind of connection to Azlagur. This is supported by other circumstantial evidence in FWW as well:

Since we know that the Dream Well in Mani's Caves is similar to the Well in Nal Gorgoth I can assume that Angela is revealing the existence of the Draumar to Elva there? I feel certainly feel as if you're setting up her for something in the future series.
Heh. Good Catch.

So, she is clearly working with Elva to do something related to the Dream Wells, and she also previously confronted Bachel, many years ago. So throughout multiple years across the WoE, she is connected to Azlagur and the Draumar; her story clearly revolves around them/Azlagur, somehow.
Putting the above pieces together, my guess is that she is jumping around in different timelines, trying to manipulate actions of the past to prevent the rise of Azlagur. Just like the player character in Marathon. There's another piece of circumstantial evidence to support this assertion as well.
In Marathon Infinity:

After multiple "jumps," the player (seemingly the only one who realizes he is being transported between possible realities)

Versus Angela:

As hours passed, the stars turned above, night chill drew the heat from my body, and I fell into a curious trance, not asleep but not fully awake... The world altered" (On the Nature of Stars, FWW).

I believe this world "Altering" was the first time she experienced an alternate timeline, without knowing what it was at the time.
We've also seen her create "Doorways" as well - Although it's not clear if this is fast traveling (a la a Torque Gate), or truly opening a path to another timeline.
In Eldest:

"As they landed, he noticed a patch of white on a small hill nearby. The patch wavered strangely in the dark, like a floating candle, then resolved into Angela, who was wearing a pale wool tunic" (A Sorceress, a Snake, and a Scroll).

and then later, more concretely:

"I traced a line on the wall, reached out, and opened a door that wasn't there. ON the other side - nighttime, a beach by a black ocean lit only by stars, so many, many stars, more than there should be. Of course, I would not take Elva to my home, not yet. But this was a waypoint, a place to build and learn and grow... She stared into the gap, the impossible portal" (On the Nature of Stars, FWW).

Still, as always with Angela, so many questions.
Alright, we've reached an ungodly wordcount, so I'll call it here. There are still more connections I'm uncovering between the two series (such as the potential connection between the Gedway Ignasia and the "warning" sensation from Marathon), so I might make a follow-up post in the future with everything else I uncover.
As always, thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments, or if you've found any other connections between the two.

growing up, my dad was always (for lack of a better word) an asshole. he was emotionally/physically abusive towards my mom consistently throughout my childhood. so you can understand the type of guy my father is, my mom couldn’t have female or male friends bc she would be accused of hooking up with them, if my mom had a job she was accused of hooking up with her coworkers, if my mom held the priest’s hand too long when shaking his hand after service she was accused of wanting him, etc. every birthday, christmas, thanksgiving, any special occasion was always ruined with an argument from him. i could do a million things perfectly right in my athletic games and one mistake would grant me a ride home where i all my happiness was crushed by an earful of how bad of a game i had. my dad was always right, everything he thought and said was the truth regardless if he was proven wrong or not. after every argument there was sometimes an apology, (only for him to do the same thing again) or my mom and i would get our favorite icecream or bouquet of flowers the next day. it was a constantly cycle of trying to get over the last thing my dad did to hurt us. my mom put up with a lot, and stayed with my dad for the sake of the family.
around the age of 17 the emotional abuse and manipulation that I had watched happen to my mom over the years started happening to me. my dad’s jealousy, anger issues, and untrusting nature was turned up to a 10 and I suspect it was due to the meth he was caught doing. he swore he had quit after being caught, but I know he never did. he was 250 pounds and probably ways just about as much as I do now (135) just in a couple of months. he started becoming paranoid, unsafe to be around, and overall crazy. he raped my mom, he pulled a gun on my mom and I, he shut my leg in a door trying to lock himself in his room bc stole my moms credit card to prevent us from getting a hotel room for the night bc he was acting crazy, he was just doing so many things where it because unsafe for my mom and I. after he had pulled a gun on us, my mom and I filed a restraining order against him and I have not had dropped the order since.
that was back in 2022. since then, he has broken the restraining order multiple times by calling me from different phone numbers, having random people contact me telling me to text him, leaving me voicemails acting like he got into a car accident so I would call him back, send me long messages about how much he misses me and loves me but then turn around and tell me all his crazy delusions about my mom that aren’t true and say terrible things about her. I have always had this underlying fear that my dad will kill himself one day for not having me in his life. I resent him for so much and everytime I have tried to rekindle our relationship he always ruined it. for example, I answered one of his million phone calls to ask him to stop making random people text me telling me to contact him. we got into a yelling match and he ultimately told me to shut the fuck up, which I hung up the phone in response. he will do all that but in the same breath preach about how lonely and sad he is without me in his life. I feel a sense of guilt for ignoring him and cutting him out of my life but he doesn’t think anything is his fault. he doesn’t understand why I won’t talk to him regardless of how many times i tell him. he doesn’t think he has done anything wrong. he tells me all the things he’s done for me like buying me my first car, as if that is some representation of how much he loved and cared for me. I feel guilty reading all his sad messages about how he misses me, but I can’t bring myself to let him in again.
he has missed all my biggest moments because of what he has done. he missed out on my high school graduation, my senior club volleyball season, and now im in college where he is missing my college years and my college games. so much time is passing and we both know it. I just don’t think he will ever change his ways.

The master of ceremonies glanced at the paper in his hand, and a glimpse of confusion showed on his face.
Something was wrong.
“And the third and last team representing Farcrest. Lowell’s Orphanage!”
Elincia clung to my arm, fear and impotence reflected in her expression. We were supposed to be called Rosebud Fencing Academy during the tournament. I clenched my jaw and glanced across the pavilion, giving [Awareness] free rein. Lord Osgiria gave me a mocking look.
I cursed. Among the nobility, everything was appearances. The fact that Farcrest had to resort to a poor orphanage for representation spoke badly about the state of affairs in the territory. The nobles around us exchanged funny looks.
“Keep your heads up. That’s our call,” I said, loud enough for the whole pavilion to hear us. If nobles thought this would weigh upon our shoulders, they were wrong.
Ilya took position by my right as the team captain, and we entered the crescent-shaped arena. The cheering died. Our magnificent uniforms didn’t fool the crowd anymore. I reached the Marquis's side and saluted the VIP box. Only after Prince Adrien started applauding did the rest of the nobles acknowledge our presence.
The commoners in the stands hesitated to cheer for us. This wasn’t a gentle world. They didn’t care about the kid’s feelings. I glanced over my shoulder. Wolf was unfazed, and Zaon moved his lips, repeating, ‘Nervous is good’ repeatedly. Firana, on the other hand, was furious.
“Tough crowd, uh?” I muttered.
“It’s only expected. Orphans don’t get good classes. There is no reason to cheer for us,” Ilya replied with a grin. “Yet.”
Did she look so mature back at the carriage?
The crowd’s attention lingered on us for an instant before the next team entered the arena. To my surprise, a single team represented the royal family: a group of cadets from the Imperial Academy. Five young cadets dressed in plain black, guided by Holst, entered the arena. The crowd came back to life. Considering the opulence of the other teams, the uniforms of the Imperial Academy cadets were disappointing. Even my group was better suited to the occasion.
Holst stood by my left, saluting the stands with a dull gesture.
“Robert Clarke, good to see you still among the living,” he greeted me with a bored tone.
His words, however, sent a shiver down my spine. Did he know assassins had tried to kill me a few days before? Captain Kiln had sworn to keep it a secret. The coincidences piled up. Holst knew about the attack and asked Lyra Jorn’s help with the library when Luzian Abei had a small army of Scholars and Scribes at his disposal. I couldn’t help but think Holst was still in contact with the culprit.
“Preceptor Holst,” I coldly greeted, my brain too busy to formulate a more wordy sentence.
“I didn’t expect to meet my former students,” he added, looking past me at Ilya and the kids. “Certainly not in these circumstances.”
I swallowed my anger. This was a golden opportunity for the orphanage. Watching the skill of the imperial cadets could help me understand why Sir Janus had been the only commoner in Farcrest to assist the Imperial Academy. Even if we lost the tournament, we could improve our chances of getting them accepted into the Imperial Academy, putting them in the same echelon as nobles.
“Do you trust the ability of your current students to win the tournament?” I asked, examining the cadet’s faces. Three humans, a half-elf, and a harpy. They didn’t seem thrilled to be part of the tournament.
Holst laughed.
“These idiots aren’t my students. These five failed their first year. If they don’t win the tournament, they will be kicked out of the Academy,” he replied, shrugging. “For failures like them, I’d say they are the favorites to win the tournament.”
A glance at the Imperial Academy team revealed their strong shoulders and steady feet. Despite the lack of fashion, they looked like trained warriors instead of pampered noble kids. Their faces had lost the roundness of childhood, and their calm demeanor and sharp eyes revealed an intense training regime. I hoped not to bump into them until the later rounds of the tournament.
Our conversation was cut short because the Osgirian teams entered the arena. First, Lord Osgiria, then Lord Nara, and finally, a man dressed as a knight, followed by a group of kids in mismatched uniforms—each one with the colors of their respective houses. Lord Osgiria stood by Holst's side and greeted the VIP box.
If Captain Kiln were right, our team would fight Lord Nara in the first round. I expected the man to be a merchant with a comically large belly. Instead, he looked like a cunning gray fox. I had to remind myself that buying a way into nobility required a skillful negotiator.
“Three teams, Lord Osgiria? You don’t seem too confident in your chances,” Holst casually said.
The Imperial Academy had to be a powerhouse within the kingdom because Lord Osgiria swallowed any snarky remark.
Lord Herran, a tall and muscular redhead dressed in full warrior attire, entered next. I remembered him from the feast—boisterous, talkative, determined. The black mana-repelling axe hung from his belt, causing my stomach to feel sick if I looked for too long. House Herran only had two teams, one led by Lord Herran himself and the other by a man who could be his twin. Only half of the team members were human; the other half were different flavors of beast folk.
More than half of the kids had bright red hair like their lord. I wondered if red hair was a dominant gene in the Herran Dukedom because the kids looked healthy. There was not a trace of the infamous Habsburg chin. They were tall and robust like their lord.
I tried to glance at the axe’s runes, but Lord Herran was too far away.
“That’s lord Herran and his army of copperhead bastards,” Holst pointed out, laughing at his joke.
I doubted that having a dozen children the same age was normal, even more so for a noble, considering how difficult succession could be. Lord Herran must’ve loved to spread his genes.
“It’s okay for him to present his… illegitimate kids in an official event like this?” I asked.
“Do you like gossip, Robert Clarke?” Holst raised an eyebrow.
“I like to be informed,” I replied.
Holst seemed satisfied with my answer.
“Lord Herran is one of the few Combat Prestige Classes in the kingdom. He has the [Conqueror] Class,” Holst replied. “It’s only natural that he can do whatever he wants. Not even the king has enough power over Lord Herran to stop his… reproductive impulses.”
I nodded. The relationship between the royal house and the great three dukedoms was more complex than I initially thought. According to the stories, Combat Prestige Classes were, in essence, one-man armies that could create whole countries around their power. I wondered what kind of monsters the royal army found in the Deep Farlands to be obliged to retreat.
After Lord Herra, Lord Gairon entered the arena. The Gairon House was arguably the second most powerful family after the royal house, and their uniforms reflected their status. The blue was rich and deep, and the gold shone under the winter sun, seemingly casting the few clouds away. The crowd yelled and cheered. It wasn’t surprising. Lord Gairon was a tall, tanned man with hair the color of ripe wheat—the perfect poster boy and leader of the anti-war faction.
“He has to go down if we want the royal faction to have a chance,” Holst said.
It suddenly hit me. Holst and I technically supported the same faction.
“Lord Gairon is also a Prestige Class?” I asked.
“A [Sacred Knight], yes. Rumor says he reached the mythic level sixty,” Holst replied. “Let’s hope their teams are more… farming inclined.”
The crowd became more tame after the three big houses made their entrance. Lord Vedras received less than half of House Gairon’s support, probably because of the tax disputes between Farcrest and the Vedras dukedom. He had brought three teams.
Duke Jorn’s presence almost caused the arena to become completely silent—Holst told me he was also a high-level Prestige Class, a Shadow Stalker.
“That sounds dangerous,” I pointed out.
“Sellen Jorn is one of the most dangerous men in the kingdom. His mere existence was enough for the king to create a whole new duchy,” Holst said. “Take an Assassin and a Shadow Fencer, mix them, double their powers, and then double them again. That’s a Shadow Stalker in a nutshell.”
I tried to imagine it. The Assassin who attacked the orphanage would have had a hard time with any class without a skill like my mana blades. I had been lucky to have a favorable matchup against him; otherwise, I might have been dead. His capacity to disable my movement was scarily effective. A man with the skills of an Assassin and a Shadow Fencer had dangerous implications.
“Prince Adrien wanted Sellen Jorn as his Master of Assassins, but he didn’t want to leave his people in the north,” Holst said. “Walls, doors, bars, locks, nothing can stop a Shadow Stalker. Only the woven barrier of several high-level Fortifiers can stop him. Or so it’s said.”
Gears turned inside my skull. I wondered if Duke Jorn was involved in the disappearance of the evidence of Raudhan’s poisoning. He certainly had the skill to move unnoticed through the Great Hall. Stealing a box with shards of glass would be a walk in the park for him.
The rest of the teams passed in a blur as my mind reviewed the party's events. Sellen Jorn was undoubtedly suspicious. His lack of presence was as unnerving as it was useful for an infiltration mission. Could he be involved in Raudhan’s poisoning? Lord Vedras had denied the existence of any co-conspirators, and we were almost entirely sure that Raudhan hadn’t been poisoned by Ashroot.
Duke Jorn's political positioning was hard to determine. The northern dukedoms were poor, and just like Farcrest, they served as a bulwark against the Monster Surges. Four families controlled most of the kingdom’s economy and politics. House Gairon, House Herran, House Osgiria, and the Royal Family. The northern dukedoms didn’t benefit from the current trade routes and wouldn’t directly benefit from a new trade route into the Kingdom of Tagabiria.
However, they would benefit from a closer relationship with the royal family.
Duke Jorn had no reason to poison Captain Kiln.
Ilya tugged the sleeve of my jacket, bringing me back to the present. The master of ceremonies was finishing a long speech about the legacy of Stephaniss of Farcrest, the previous lord of the city and the Marquis's grandfather. Even the Marquis seemed bored.
“Prince Adrien will draw the matches for the first round!” The master of ceremonies announced.
Prince Adrien came forward, and an assistant brought a glass bowl filled with small wooden rods. He put his hand in the bowl, picked one randomly, and passed it to his companion. The woman dressed in purple read it out loud, her voice magically amplified. Her pleasant contralto voice made me think she was a singer.
“House Nara versus…” she received the second wooden rod. “Lowell’s Orphanage!”
Just like Captain Kiln had warned me.
I didn’t expect us to be the opening fight. The other teams returned to the pavilion, and a group of Scribes carried the System Shrine Shard embedded in its copper nest to the center of the arena. I assumed it was there to ensure all participants met the requirements for the tournament.
“Let’s go, team,” I said.
We formed next to the Shrine Shard and in front of Lord Nara’s team. The master of ceremonies activated the blue orb, and the kids' names, classes, and levels appeared before us. Luckily, Lord Nara and I were exempt from the crystal ability. Being outed as a Runeweaver wasn’t part of my plans.
Belya Nara, Geomancer Lv.3
Arel Nara, Warrior Lv.5
Lino, Soldier Lv.9
Jan, Archer Lv.3
Aiwin, Courier Lv.7
Firana Aias, Wind Fencer Lv.1
Ilya, Hunter Lv.2
Zaon, Classless Lv.1
Wolf, Classless Lv.1
The System prompts might have been big enough for the crowd to read because a murmur rose from the stands. I didn’t need [Awareness] to understand the commotion. Half of my team was classless in a world where Classes were everything. Lord Nara also seemed to notice the discrepancy between our teams.
“I’m feeling generous today, Mister Caretaker. I will gladly accept your surrender and spare you the embarrassment if you apologize for wasting our time,” Lord Nara said with a mellow, totally fake voice. “You can save the kids the shame of losing in front of their countrymen.”
The master of ceremonies looked at me.
“What do you think, Ilya?” I asked.
“The team is ready, Mister Clarke. We fight,” she replied without any hint of doubt.
Despite Lord Nara’s clever expression, he was underestimating us. I couldn’t blame him. He had lived all his life in a world where value was determined by class and level. Developing an eye for people wasn’t as helpful as on Earth, where it could mean the difference between life and death.
“We fight,” I said.
“Don’t say I didn’t extend the courtesy of an honorable withdrawal,” Lord Nara grinned, his fox-like eyes turned into thin lines.
The master of ceremonies nodded.
“The Rules are simple. The team that loses the coin toss has to choose its first fighter, and then the winning team chooses its opponent. Then, the roles change. Every team has two picks and two counter picks, for a total of four fighters,” the master of ceremonies explained, pulling a gold coin from the pocket.
I nodded. There was a level of strategy involved in the pairing phase. I could pair Firana against their weakest member to ensure a vast point difference. Or I could choose Zaon to keep things equalized. If I were Lord Nara, I would leave the Lv.7 Courier outside the selection. As fast as they were, they weren’t a combatant Class, but on the other hand, even non-combatants could develop useful masteries.
Zaon had a good matchup against the Soldier and the Warrior, as their combat skills were on the ‘basic’ side of the spectrum. However, the Archer, the Geomancer, and the Courier could present a problem to him. Wolf also had a bad matchup against the Archer and the Geomancer because he relied on solid and static positioning to use his muscles. Ilya and Firana had good matchups against the enemy team, but the enemy Geomancer worried me the most. She wasn’t just an Advanced Class, but a relative of Lord Nara.
“Here goes the coin,” the master of ceremonies said. He threw it high and caught it mid-flight.
Lord Nara kindly offered me the call.
“Heads,” I replied with a grin.
“Heads,” the master of ceremonies said, revealing the coin.
[Awareness] didn’t disappoint, but I made a mental note to keep it hidden from Ilya. She wouldn’t be on board with blatant cheating, even if we had the disadvantage. As cunning as Ilya was, strategy and cheats were completely different.
Lord Nara huffed. “Lino, you go first.”
The Soldier kid stepped forward. He was tall, probably a year older than my kids, but [Awareness] told me he was nervous. Soldier Class was painfully close to no class at all.
“Zaon, you go first. Is that okay with you?” I said, hoping the combination of Light-Footed and Lv.2 Longsword Mastery would match a Lv.9 Soldier with a couple of skills under his sleeve.
Zaon nodded.
It was my turn to choose and Lord Nara’s turn to counter-pick. “Ilya, you go second,” I said.
Ilya came forward, prompting a laugh from the rival Fighter.
“Do you want to fight the gnome, Arel?” Lord Nara asked.
“Yes, my lord. I’m confident I can get a ten-point lead over a Gnome Hunter,” Arel Nara replied.
A vein popped on Ilya’s forehead.
“Good. I chose my cousin Arel Nara for the second fight,” Lord Nara said.
Then, Lord Nara selected the Archer boy for the third fight, which put me in a tough spot. The Archer and the Geomancer were hard matchups for Wolf, and I lacked a fifth or sixth member to play around it. Nonetheless, the Archers weren’t known for their vast arsenal of skills.
“Wolf, you go against him,” I said.
Wolf nodded.
“Which leaves us with the last pair,” Lord Nara said with a mocking smile.
“Firana, you go last,” I said.
“Belya, my daughter, will be my last pick,” Lord Nara replied.
The dueling pairs were ready.
“So be it. The tournament's first match will be between Lino the Soldier and Zaon the Elf,” the master of ceremonies said, his voice suddenly amplified again as the Scribes took the System Shrine orb away. “Contestants, please go get your equipment. May the System bless you all.”
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It started when I was driving down a backroad and I see blue lights behind me. I immediately panic and gas it to over 100 mph, throwing shit out the window, rigs, a half Oz, scales, everything. The blue lights are gaining on me so I hit a dirt road, going insane speeds down this bumpy ass road, eventually, I realize I've rode the back tires off of the vehicle, so I jump out and hit the woods. I see the lights approaching and see flashlights coming into the woods, mind you it's pitch black and it's in a marshy, real rugged terrain, I'm running full speed doing flips and shot over hills and running into shot and the flash lights are coming up on me, and they're getting closer and closer and I am thinking fuck I am about to go to jail. They come up on me and everything goes black.
I wake up not knowing how long I've been laying there and I feel like I've been shot in the chest with a shotgun, I can't move my body and I think I'm dieing. I see a star in the sky that I was fixated pm, and I'm thinking that's where I want to be. Eventually it feels like I die, my body is making weird ticking noises and I feel like I just lose my body, I come out of my body and have these giant angel wings and I start flying up to the star, when I'm about halfway there my wings turned to bone and I fall back to the earth, then several times over, I grow angel wings again and fly away again, only to have the same thing happen again, it felt like I was being taunted that I could never make it to heaven. I eventually snap back to my body again, and wake up another unknown time later.
I managed to stand up, and in my mind I was on this earth all alone, like in some type of purgatory. My body is so weak I can barely move, but I managed to stand up. The bottom half of my vision is solid black and the top half I can see the tops of trees, I eventually see this figure, totally black and tall with a cowboy hat on. It's just standing about 5 foot away and laughing at me. I try to pick up a big stick that was near me but my body was too weak to swing it at it. Every time I took a step forward , it just took a step back and laughed.
There is a fuzzy period here, but fast forward about 2 days later of being completely out of my mind in these woods, I stumble upon and oilfield location that had a little trailer where the workers could stay and it had a jeep parked out front. The doors were unlocked and I went inside trying to get some water out of the faucet, I didn't notice the guy asleep on the couch. No water came out, so I went into this guy's jeep, thinking totally that it was mine, got a crowbar and a wrench and went to the water main and broke into it and turned the water on. I go back inside and start ravenous drinking water out of the faucet.
The guy wakes up and at first thinks I'm a worker. He asked me if I just got hired. I told him yeah and he asked what I drove there and I told him the jeep outside. He looked at me confused and then says that's his jeep. I argued with him and told him that's my friends jeep and I'm borrowing it. He realizes something is fucked up and eventually runs me off while having the phone to his ears, undoubtedly calling the cops.
Three more days go by and im completely out of my mind, everything is like the scariest thing you can imagine and i dont know whats real of fake. Im malnourished, dieing, and freaking the fuck out. eventually I think the cops are after me, and I remembered storing some dope in my boot like two years before, I had on big rubber duck hunting boots, and for some reason I feel like I need to cut the boots up into tiny pieces and bury it. I do this and then run for another day from imaginary police.
I come across this area of trees cut down and there is a guy like 500 yards away on the other side that I'm trying to sign language to that I need help. My tongue was so dry I couldn't yell. The guy wasn't even real and eventually waved at me and drove off. I find a few berries to eat to wet my tongue and eventually collapse in thick thorn bushes staring up at the sky with big sharp thorns in my back thinking, "this wouldn't be so bad of a place to die" I pass out and get up an unknown time later.
I finally found some sort of road and I decide to try to walk down it, but when I do, like 20 world War two bombers fly over and drop these little silver cubes, hundreds of them, these cubes hatch and there's all these miniature snipers in the woods aiming at me. I freak out and start running down this road, and in My mind I'm thinking "okay they're all trying to kill me and I'm unarmed, all I can do to make them think i have a gun is to take my sock off and put it on my hand like a pistol with my fingers" so I do this while running frantically down this road, crazy as a mother fucker.
I finally run across this house and I beat on the door like the police for like 30 seconds and eventually this 80 year old man answers, and sees this crazy fucking site, I'm shirtless, shoes less, with one sock on my hand with cuts and shit all over my body and face, eyes like saucers and looking like the wolf man or some shit. I look dead in this man's eyes and while waving my sock pistol around I tell him "look, if they told you I'm here to kill you, I'm not. I just want to use your phone. " he looks very confused and shut the screen door while calling the police.
I eventually figure fuck it this man isn't going to help me so I run off and break into his back yard. I find the faucet and turn it on and I'm up under it with my mouth open, drinking in water so desperately and fast that I'm throwing up while drinking it. A cop eventually walks up to me and asks me to come with him. He tells me he has water in the cooler in his ride and I can drink that. I am so out of my mind and thirsty and dieing that I didn't believe him and he had to pry me away from the faucet.
He was able to tell after talking to me that I was very much out of my mind and takes me to the hospital. They tell me I have a 78% chance of dieing that I had ketoacidosis and my kidneys were failing. I lived, and after 8 or 9 days of being in these woods with no food or water, out of my fucking mind, with delusions so bad I didn't know what was real or fake, I finally got released and then sent to a mental hospital for two weeks.
This was by far the worst and scariest experience of my life and I would not wish it on anyone. Stay woke friends, and never go into meth induced psychosis.

I am looking for advice, tips and tricks, tactics and techniques, suggestions, gadget recommendations, surveillance advice, contacts, information on damn near anything even mildly related, programs or software that could be helpful. Just about anything.
I have floated through many departments and a handful of units over the last decade+. The state is so afraid of getting sued or making sure the wifi is strong for the inmate’s tablets that they are putting far too little effort into combating the growing drug problem.
Let me just jot some random things down and if any of you have any input to combat these issues, even if its a long shot, i would be very grateful.
Texas prison system. Difficult to find staff that is both trustworthy as well as good at their job and has time to dedicate to do a little extra. I have enough contacts to allow me some sort of access to just about anything and everything but they will not contribute 1 penny nor will they provide assistance but they will however allow me to do whatever i want whenever i want and however i want so long as its legal and documented in the way that they have me documenting my activities.
So how would i battle:
Drones drop things into units. Black drone, lights off, pilot not in sight by the pickets, drop may be a single cell phone or a light bag of rolling tobacco or even a small amount of meth.
Road-side drops. A grocery bag that contains narcotics+contraband literally tossed out of a car while driving and at seemingly random times, likely at night. Inmates sneak out and run to the pre determined spot and then run back. Many of the units near a road can be JOGGED to and back inside within 4 minutes if they know the exact drop location. Other units take longer but it still happens.
Visitation exchanges. Girlfriends, siblings, spouses, even parents and children (typically adult children of the convicts but sometimes minors too and minors cannot be pat searched) will bring small things in. Hidden in their vagina, anus, mouth, under their breasts or stomach folds. Places that are sometimes searched on the convicts’ body but not visitors or volunteers. Oh yeah volunteers bring stuff in too.
Laced paper: K2 (Spice, synthetic marijuana), fentanyl, pcp. The dogs don’t seem to catch it but neither can I most of the time. The DEA tells me that they are having trouble combatting and even identifying consistent ingredients for K2. Lately the rumor is that they are using wasp and/or roach spray.
Cell phones and other devices. These are often smaller than a typical android or iphone and they are unregistered numbers. They are even in the units with cellular reception blocking towers. Staff cannot get a signal but the inmates are speaking freely whenever they want. Various rumors include hidden hot spots within walls or pipe chases that have a strong enough signal to allow outbound and inbound calls.
Dirty staff. This one is ridiculous and i even found out that the woman that trained me when i first started was prostituting herself to both inmates and staff. Other than this they will bring items in but so far the drops contain the largest quantity at a single time.