Last thursday, I decided it was time to replace my Specialized Sawtooth tires. I liked em a lot, tons of miles, no flats. overall decent.
But I wanted more. I wanted more speed, more tread on the corners. Tan sidewalls. I wanted something durable. I wanted something my LBS had on a good deal that wasn't gonna break the bank. I somehow stumbled upon a pair of 700x37 Teravail Washburn tires. On paper, they had everything I wanted.
In practice? God awful. Worst tire experience I have ever had. I did some research on them and found a few forums and reddit posts asking about Teravail- a few posts about 6 years old said they experienced a massive tire wobble and not getting the bead to sit. I figured that Teravail probably addressed this problem in the last 7 years or so, so I went for it.
Awful install. I legitmately got blisters and got 2 pinch flats trying to mount these bitches. IT took me 2 hours to mount 1 tire, and even doing that - I got a flat. So I had to reinstall a tube! I legit could not get these tire beads to mount on the rim. I accepted defeat after losing 2 tubes, gaining 3 blisters, and feeling defeated and went to a LBS to have them do it. Even they said they were oddly hard.
Anyways, air them sumbiches up just a lil over the max PSI to "help the bead sit." These tires were fucked from the package. Bead could not sit at all. after a few test rides, fucking with the air pressure, the soapy water tricks, I finally was able to get the bead to sit properly... only to wonder why they sucked on the road.
Ohh. thats why. A giant bubble on the side of the tire. Like, not the bead, just the tire casing was like fucked off and it was not an even tire.
Whatever. Fuck em. I went back to my LBS and bought a pair of specialized pathfinder pros, 700x37.
I could not get these fuckers off! I snapped a park tool tire iron trying to get even the tiniest bit of bead off the rim. I ripped the tubes out and did all I could. I even used a metal tire iron my apartment bike area has for use. I pried it over and fucked the rim up trying to use that metal tire iron to get it off. NEarly bent my wheel out of true putting my entire 190lbs of beer belly muscle into it.
Once I finally got them off (took approximately 1 hour to remove 2 tires from a rim), I spent maybe 20 minutes mounting and inflating them Specialized bad boys.
Rant over. Those tire sucks. Im gonna give Teravail the benefit of the doubt and say not all their products are like that but holy shit in the world of bike tires there are too many choices to waste time on those.

Greetings!
Having recently become apprised of the most ghastly Connecticut charter, mandating New Haven's merger with the greater colony, and thus commencing, what I wager will be a lawless period of religious tolerance and heresy, I've forged a coalition with some fine fellows from Branford and we intend to relocate.
We plan to trek south along the Passaic, henceforth, year of our Lord 1666. Your Governor Carteret has assured me that the Elizabethtown purchase has secured land west of the great river that will be suitable for our puritanical purposes (witch hunts, Bible thumping, the usual).
In the event that the Lenape are not amenable to my presence, I've prepared an offering, to be conveyed via Sam Edsel of Bergen Neck, consisting of: fifty double hand of gun powder, one hundred bars of lead (please do not use for pipe construction), twenty axes, twenty coats, ten guns, twenty pistols, ten kettles, ten swords, four blankets, four barrels of beer, ten pair of breeches, fifty knives, twenty hoes, eight hundred and fifty fathoms of wampum, twenty ankers (about ten gallons of wine) of liquors and ten troopers’ coats.
This bounty shall be offered to the indigenous in exchange for lands stretching outward west toward the Watchung Hills.
However, since I've no prior familiarity with the land, and given mapping can only go so far in getting a true "feel" for a place, I've estimated that Reddit may be the best place in which to put forth the most urgent and profound of inquiries in advance of booking such a life or death itinerary.
I ask you: is Newark safe? Will one be able to leave his camp at the odd hour without fear of being accosted by the odd homeless fellow or townsfolk? Do bears and wolves roam about the swamp adjacent to Avon Avenue? What is the best way to get from the banks of the river, soon to be four corners, down to the native crossing of Weequahic? Will I get robbed if I go by horse?
I know this has been asked quite a few times, but I have nowhere else to go in order to ask. I've already booked a camp at the point where High St. meets Clinton, known as the Riveria, but will I be cat called there by crackheads? How much has changed since time looped back unto itself from the year 1987?
Please advise, and thank you for your time.
Signed this 28th day of May,
R.T.

i'm working on a novel and would like to know if anyone could tell me any improvements i could make to the first chapter and prologue
Prologue
The day had started the same way it had for the past two years. The only difference was that I was going home. The hallway was crowded with people walking to and from their classes. Everyone was crowded next to each other so the halls were making the area feel claustrophobic. All the people talking mixed with the summer heat made me feel like I was locked in a sauna. I walked with Preston to the last class we would ever have together and as usual he was smiling. I never got why he always smiled even in situations where people should be sad he still smiled. He knew what today meant for me and he tried to keep light of the situation. I kept my head down away from what was ahead of me. My mind was too clouded about returning to see my family to notice anything in front of me. I walked into another student. It felt like I had walked into a wall. I knew immediately I had walked into tree. I stumble onto the ground and the commotion around me slows down to make room for us. He turned his bulky body around and apologized profusely without saying a word even though I had walked into him. He helped me off of the ground before hurrying down the hall.
“Alexandria, are you doing okay?” Preston said he had tilted his body downward so I had to look down to look him in his eyes. The way he was standing made him look like an idiot but he didn't seem to care. The way he acted made me laugh, which caused his smile to widen.
“I'm doing fine, just got lost in my head.”
“Thinking about how you’ll leave soon,” he said
“Was it that obvious?” He was the only person I told about me being an exchange student. I came to spend high school in Newkinawa and he was the only person I ever hung out with.
“I see what you mean,” he said “Newkinawa is a beautiful place with beautiful people to live in it…myself included”
“You wish,” I say with a smile we continue walking through the hallway “I'm just not excited to go back yet”
After I say that his smile grows wider “So you will miss me after all”
“I wouldn't say that much” I responded whilst smiling.
We had made it to our last class only to see it closed with a sign labeled “Uma incident” Uma was a student known for messing with the chemistry lab and destroying school property in the process. I've never actually met her but Preston says “She's a little weird but still nice”
“Guess class is canceled for today,” Preston remarked with a smile “Wanna go out to the court till the bell rings.”
“Sure let's go” I respond
The place we ate every day was outside. It used to be a tennis court before I moved in. Now they put trees and flowers all over the place. Preston really liked the blue color of the flowers but it just never clicked for me. I look over at Preston and he's staring up at the sky. There are a number of clouds in almost enough to block the sun but it still pokes its rays through and lands on Preston's face. The clouds swim in front of the sun till they block out the sun's light. Preston faces towards me.
“I'm gonna miss you Alexandria” he says
“You know you can just call me Alex,” I replied. I start to smile again. “I'll miss you too!" He smiles toward me again as we get up to leave as the clouds start to clump together and rain slowly falls. As we're walking back to the school there's a loud tearing sound followed by screams as the ground shakes.
The ground tears itself apart as the dirt and stone erupt from the ground. The sky blackens and a pale blue light escapes the earth. Then creatures erupt from the ground in a violent ejection from the earth creating a white pillar diffusing as they reach higher in the air. Some are clawing their way out of the cracks like maggots out of a corpse. People are swept into the updraft screaming for their lives.
The creatures descend like a tidal wave and tear apart any people caught in their path. They storm out of the crack in hundreds as more cracks in the earth form. Me and Preston started running away as people were screaming behind us. A girl running next to us has her legs slashed by a creature. The monster begins to tear open her chest as she chokes on her own blood. The monster shovels her lungs and innards into its decrepit mouth. Me and Preston keep running until we're met at the entrance of the school and we catch the attention of a monster as it begins to savagely rush toward us. The monster resembles ghosts my father told me about. But this one looks monstrously horrific. It floats in the air and opens its mouth so wide it nearly replaces its entire torso; its jaws hold savage teeth each the same old gray color of its body. Its eyes glow a rotten yellow color through the dark. It stretches out its arms showing its giant hands and claws like fingers. It swipes at us leaving a giant claw mark on the door behind us but Preston ducks my body down to avoid the attack. We run around it as the monster swaps its focus to another bystander. Screaming past us. Me and Preston run into the parking lot as people scream around us. We hide next to a car.
“What the hell is happening!?” I yell to Preston. More of the creatures fly over us and swoop down to people like vultures on roadkill devouring the fleeing people.
Preston starts to breathe heavily ”we need to get out of here and someplace safer”. As we were talking one of the monster phases through the car we were hiding next to forcing us to run into the street.
“Lets go to your house till things cool down” i say to Preston through panted breaths
“Wait couldn't we head to your house instead” Preston says.
“Why would that matter your house is closer anyways” i respond
“But-” Preston is interrupted by two creatures swooping above us to grab another person. The two monsters begin to pull the person apart while he writhes in pain before having his flesh be torn in half and having his organs be devoured.
“Come on lets go!!” I say as I grab his hand and run even faster.
By the time we reach Preston's house any living person is gone. On the street are just corpses laying torn and mutilated on the roads and sidewalk. The air in the neighborhood feels cold despite the season being summer. When I walk down the street I can still hear the occasional horrific wail the monsters give off. We move closer to Preston's house and I can see him sweating. He looked more worried than before when the creatures were chasing us and he kept darting his eyes away from his home.
“Preston, are you feeling okay?” he doesn't respond to my question and keeps darting his eyes. He walks slowly behind me and as I reach for the door handle and when I touch it it feels nearly freezing. I wrap my hoodie around my hand and slowly open the door. The house is quiet so me and Preston creep further into his house. The inside is cold and damp as if we were locked in a freezer. The further we move into the house the louder a subtle chewing sound is heard.
“It sounds like rats are eating a dead cow over there” I whisper. Preston continues to stay silent behind me. We slowly walk closer towards the kitchen and the sound gets louder and louder and louder until we reach the room.
We're met with a rancid smell of vomit and blood. My blood starts to run cold and every instinct in my body is telling me to run. I can feel Preston breathing get heavier as we get closer. We turn the corner and see Preston's mom lying on the ground dead with one of the creatures hunched over slurping her intestines. The sight causes me to vomit alerting the monster to our presence. The creature turns around and its mouth turns into a mortifying grin as it flies into Preston's moms body. The corpse begins to rise and spur splashing blood over the kitchen. When the corpse stops spasming it picks itself up from the ground and with glazed over eyes it holds its intestines in its hand and gives us the same grin it did when it was outside her body. The possessed corpse lunges at me and starts to chase me around the kitchen. The body is running into the walls and cabinets spraying its blood and other loose organs around the area as I'm avoiding its assault. The corpse leans over and ejects one of its loose intestines towards me, wrapping me in it. It pulls me towards it so fast I'm flung towards the ground. The corpse limbers over to me and raises its free hand aiming for my head. The creature's deranged smile causes the corpse’s cheeks to tear apart. It places both of its bloodied and demented hands on my face and starts to press my skull into the ground. I struggle to breathe. The room starts to get dark and blood escapes my head.
Until Preston jumps on top of his mothers corpse with a kitchen knife and repeatedly stabs it in the head. The possessed body tries to shake him off but he keeps stabbing, blood gets in on his face and tears start to escape his eyes. The creature violently ejects from the corpse's mouth causing her head to nearly explode and Preston stops stabbing the body. The body falls over in a splash of blood and organs. The monster leaves phasing through the roof leaving Preston crying over his mother's body. As the blood mixes with the tears he collapses to his knees crying. I walk over and hug him as the air around us turns bitter and the chill of death leaves the room and us with it.
Chapter 1 Eclipse
It's been 2 months since the apocalypse started. We've kept ourselves alive by looting grocery stores and houses, we hide from the creatures as we have no way to fight back against them. Preston came up with the idea to call them glanter’s. He’s looking better since we left his family home but I can tell something is wrong with him that he's not telling me. Everytime I ask him about it he tells me it's no big deal. I asked him earlier today and he just told me
“don't worry about it, I'm over it” without even looking at me. Now we're walking through the street and I'm walking behind Preston, I can barely see his head past the giant bag we're both carrying on our backs we use to carry supplies. I look up at the sky and it's still pitch black except for the moon giving us any amount of light. Preston turns around to face me.
“Let's check out that house, it might have some cool stuff in it” he points to a white house to our right. The house is a two story building with steps leading to the front door. There's a generator poking out from the backyard. The driveway is empty save for a couple of dried blood stains and tire marks. It's similar to the other houses in the neighborhood except for a couple broken windows.
“Sure why not” We head over to the house and I see something shining on the side of the house in the corner of my eye. I turn my head to look at it closer but it quickly disappears before I can see it clearly.
“Probably squirrel or something” I mumble to myself. Preston walks up the stairs to the house and I walk up the steps behind him as a breeze blows past my face. Preston tries to turn the door knob but the door is locked. I start to pull out a lockpick I grabbed at the store earlier. I motion towards Preston to move out of the way as I kneel down to pick the lock. It takes me a couple of minutes to unlock the door so I walk inside the house and Preston follows behind me while closing and locking the door. The doorway of the house leads to a dark room so I take a flashlight out of my bag to illuminate the area. Were put into the living room and bookshelves are on the walls and a large TV sat in front of a large black couch with smaller chairs surrounding it. Dust is covering every surface of the room and spiderwebs litter the corners of the walls. The area smells like moth balls and there's a lack of blood anywhere nearby.
“Guess the owners got out before the Glanter’s got in, '' I say to Preston. When he doesn't respond I turn around and he's already looking further into the house. When I find him he's managed to find a flight of stairs that lead to a lower portion of the house.
“I'll check on him later,” I think to myself as I headed towards the kitchen to see if we could restock on food. I walk past a bedroom and remark on how childish it looked. The walls were painted with blue and green stripes and a bunk bed sat on the right wall. There's a chest at the foot of the bed so I walk over and lift the top off of it. The box is layered with children's toys, a multitude of dolls, bears, and figures all jut out of the box. I notice a small robot toy and inspect it in my hands.
The cold metal makes my hand shiver and the sharp body shape makes the robot bigger than my hand. There's red lining around the robot's buttons surrounded by the cold gray of the robot's “skin”. It reminds me of a toy my little brother had. My heart feels heavy as I worry about what happened to my family. If they're alive, dead, or worse…possessed. The thoughts send a chill down my spine but I push them aside for now. I put the toy in my bag and exit the bedroom.
I can see the kitchen is down the hallway so I walk down the hall and enter. The kitchen is pretty clean except for a couple of dishes in the sink and the dust. There's a table seated for 3 people in the center of the room. I start opening the cabinets in search for any food or water. There's boxes of cereal leftover on top of shelves and a mix of chip bags and cookies in neat boxes stationed in the cabinets.
“Score,” I say to myself as I begin to put the snacks into my bag. When the cabinets are empty I look inside the fridge. The inside of the fridge ran out of power so most of the food inside is rotted. There are a couple of bottles of water in the front so I shove those in my bag. There's also a bag of oranges that still seem to be healthy in the back. I grab them and toss them on the table. There's rotten sandwich meat hidden in the drawer of the fridge.it smells like a dumpster outside of a butcher shop. I wrinkle my nose at the smell. I look around the kitchen for any bread with no luck.
I continue to look through the fridge until I hear Preston scream from another room. Immediately I bolt out of the kitchen leaving my bag behind and run towards the lower part of the house. I run down the stairs and nearly trip on the steps. The stairs lead to a big room. There are posters to tv shows and movies I don't recognize. The walls are painted black and there's a bear skin rug on the floor. I notice Preston standing next to a really big TV hyperventilating. I walk over to him and ask him.
“Are you ok? What happened?”
He talks through deep breaths “I… saw a… spider.”
“What?!” I respond in confusion.
“It was really big and I had jumped at my face”
“Sure it was.” I say while laughing “Let's go upstairs there's some food in the fridge we can eat”
“Wait, I think you should check this out.” He says while pointing towards one of the walls. I grab Preston's flashlight off the floor and face it towards the wall. Hanging halfway off the wall is a large map labeled Newkiwana scavenger hunt of 76.
“I think we should take it,” Preston says “You can read a map right?”
“A little but I'm not the best at it,” I say to him “can you read a map?”
“it shouldn’t be too hard it’s mainly pictures any way I'm sure I can figure it out”
I walk over to the wall where the map is hung there are trophies covering tables and shelved in their own personal cases one of them reads “1st place 100-meter swimming competition for 1986 Zack Hemmingway” and another one reads “2nd place 100-meter swimming competition for 1989 Zack Hemmingway”
“Guess this guy really liked swimming,” Preston remarks while staring at a wall of newspaper clippings. All of them are about the same person in swimming competitions. All labeled different things like “a new record for Zack “the dolphin” Hemmingway”,
‘Zach Hemmingway our star plans for the future” all the newspapers are about this kind he has paler skin and a bulky enough build to swim pretty well. Most of the pictures have him coming out of the water in a pool, his long black hair soaked and sitting at his shoulders. Another one has him sitting at a desk over a pile of books and his hair in a knot , “vicious wipeout ends the Dolphins career”, and “ex-swim champ Zack Hemmingway found in a drunken stupor outside strip club.
“Everyone has their own hobbies I guess,” I say as I take the map off of the wall and fold it up. “Sucks what happened to Zack though” I walked over to Preston’s bag and put the rolled map in one of the pockets. I walk back up the stairs and Preston grabs his bag and follows behind me.
We make our way towards the kitchen and Preston starts looking through the fridge for anything to eat. I grab an orange from the table and throw it at his head. The fruit bounces off his head and rolls on the floor. He turns around and grabs the fruit from the floor
“Why did you throw an orange at me?”
“It's the only food we have unless you plan on eating spoiled a sandwich“ He starts to peel it while walking towards the table. We both take a seat and start to eat the oranges from the bag. He plants his feet on top of the table and bites into the fully peeled orange. I grab a water bottle from a bag and start to drink from it as Preston says.
“I saw a dvd player in that man cave downstairs we could watch a movie if it still has power”
“Sure it could be fun.” Me and Preston spend the rest of our time eating until the bag of oranges is emptied and we head back downstairs. Preston grabs the DVD player from under the table and blows the dust off the top of it; he plugs it into the wall as I plop myself onto the couch. He plugs the DVD player into the TV and sits on the recliner next to me. He presses a few buttons on the remote and the TV lights up. I squint my eyes at how bright it is. It's the most amount of light I've seen that didn't come from a flashlight. I notice there's a box filled with DVDs. I pull the box over towards me. I ruffle through the box and see movies like Silence of the Lambs, Terminator 2, and Home alone.
“Dude some of these came out just before the world turned inside out” I say to him.
“Really? Let's play one.” He responds. I toss him Terminator 2 and he puts it into the DVD player.
We spend the next couple hours watching movies and laughing together. It's some of our only moments of peace we’ve had since the end of the world and to me it's the most fun I've had yet. We're putting in the next DVD when there's a loud crash outside and the TV shuts off. Preston goes behind it to see if it's still plugged in.
“I think the generator outside is busted” i say
“It seems that way” Preston replies while backing away from the tv” i'm gonna go check it out”
“Don't worry I got it” I say as I hop out of my chair. Preston waves goodbye as I head up the stairs. I make my way back through the hallway leading to the living room and front door. I reach the door and start to turn the knob. I open the door wide as a car speeds down the street. I step out of the door to see what had happened when I hear the screech of a glanter. It cuts through the sky like an unholy opera singer. A group of them fly by and chase the car as I rush back inside the house. I slam the door shut and look through the window as I see a couple of smaller glanters grab and shake the car violently looking for the driver. They tear at it, ripping off doors and breaking the windows. The driver screams as the seats cover with blood and he's ripped out of the car as multiple smaller glanters tear and bite off parts of his body like piranha's until his body is completely devoured. I run back to the man cave to warn Preston about what had happened. I spot him laying in his chair spinning a DVD disc on his finger.
“It's not safe outside right now”
“Why not?
“There's glanter's outside, they just ate a dude in his car”
“Did they see you come inside?”
“I don't think so , they flew off before I went inside.”
“well we're not dead so I'm gonna say they didn't see you. But let's stay here for a couple more hours just to be safe”
“Sounds good i'm gonna go find the master bedroom.” I start to walk back up the stairs to the house
“ Hold on why do you get the master bedroom” Preston says while walking after me.
“Because I'm gonna find it first” I say as I start to run to find the bedroom. He chases after me in pursuit of the bedroom. Me and Preston run around the house looking for the master bedroom. We look through room after room finding closets, the garage, a bathroom and a door leading to a balcony in the back of the house. I manage to run into the bedroom and yell out to Preston.``Found it!!”
He comes walking into the room breathing heavily from the running. We both check out the room. The walls are painted a cream yellow and the bed takes up most of the room's center. The bed has burgundy sheets poking out from its bottom and a quilt with multi-colored floral designs lay sprawled out on top of it. There's a wardrobe built into the wall and a black leather couch sits comfortably on the left wall.
“Dibs on the bed” I say as I jump on top of it. I stretch out on top of the quilt and search for a comfortable part to sleep in.
“Where am I supposed to sleep then?” Preston complains
“You can sleep on the couch it looks soft enough” I respond while pointing towards the couch “I saw some spare blankets in one of the closets”
“Alright i’ll be right back” he mumbles to himself “why do i always get the couch”
“ I'll be right here if you need me,” i call after him. I sit up on the bed and start to look around the room more. I notice the entrance to the wardrobe is cracked open slightly. I hop out of the bed and grab a flashlight from my bag as I walk into the wardrobe. I turn on my flashlight and stare in awe at how many clothes are in there. The room is only half as big as the bedroom but it's still bigger than any closet I've ever had. The wardrobe is full of shirts, dresses, pants, and shoes for men and women. I immediately start to look through the shoes to see if any fit my size. I throw a pair of black high heels behind me as Preston finds me in the wardrobe. He looks around before asking me.
“What are you doing?”
“Finding a new pair of clothes to wear cause I've been wearing the same pair of jeans for waaaaay too long”
“Fair enough. Is there any guy stuff in there?”
“Yeah right there” I hook my thumb behind me to point to the other end of the closet.
“I'm sure they won't mind if we take a couple of things…they're probably dead by now anyways,” Preston says with a slight grin on his face. The way he said made me spin my head to look at him but he was already on the opposite end of the wardrobe looking at suits.
I shake away the thought and continue looking for any pair of sneakers in my size. 40 minutes pass before I walk out of the wardrobe holding a new pair of jeans and a black guns-N-roses t-shirt. I toss the clothes on top of the bed and check to see if the shower in the bathroom still works. I turn the dial and wait for a moment. The shower head chokes a little before water comes pouring out. I reach my hand under the showerhead to feel the water. The water is cold, it causes my hand to shiver when I take it out. I shake the water off and say to myself.
“Good enough” as I start to take off my old clothes and get in the shower. The cold water bounces off my skin, it sends shivers down my spine but I still get the old dirt from the last few months off of me. I step out and see a couple of dry towels hanging off of the door. I grab one and dry my body off and grab another to wrap around my head and dry my hair. I step out of the bathroom and Preston is still inside the wardrobe. I put on my new clothes while his back is turned and walk over towards him when I'm finished.
“Still haven't found anything,” I ask him
He turns around “Nothing yet, the only thing interesting was this coat.” He holds a leather coat up to me. The coat is made of black leather and has a skull covered with blue flames on the back. There's a black shirt inside the coat with a skeleton hand making a thumbs-up embroidered on the front.
“ That's pretty cool, it's better than what you're wearing right now at least” he's outfitted in a blue hoodie with holes on the chest and tears at the sleeves. He also has a shirt with a faded picture of a blue flower printed on it.
“I guess you're right” he gets up from the floor and exits the wardrobe. He lays the clothes on the couch along next to the blanket and pillow he brought into the room.
“The shower works so you can get yourself clean In there,” I say to him
“You know, a shower sounds really good right now.” He gets up from the floor and grabs a pair of pajama pants that were laying next to him. He leaves the wardrobe and enters the bathroom, closing the door behind him. After a moment the water turns on and I hop on the bed to get ready to sleep. I squirm myself into the quilt and rest my head against one of the pillows. I shut my eyes and fall asleep listening to the passive sound of the shower like rain on a car.
I'm in a void. It feels like I'm standing in a puddle of water that reaches to my knees. I wade my way forward looking around for anything in the darkness. In the distance I can see 3 figures l. I moved closer to them and their silhouettes get clearer. I realize they are my dad and brothers. I start to run towards them kicking up water behind me until something grabs my leg. It pulls down violently forcing me under the water without a breath of air. I kick at the thing grabbing me until something grabs my other leg. I look down and see two glanter's each with a monstrous smile on their faces. They stare back at me and one of them tugs my leg harder than before and tears it off of my body. The water around me turns red as the glanter laugh's. The other smiles wider as it starts to fling me around the water forcing any air left in my lungs to be forced out as I scream in pain. The glanter throws me away and I can see my family slowly fade into the distance as I'm flown away.
I struggle to swim back to where I was, one of my legs is missing and the other is broken. The glanter's find me again and I try to get to the surface to escape them. I'm flapping my arms in any attempt to escape as one of the glanter's flies in front of me and grabs my arm. I look at the monster with tears in my eyes as it bites my arm and tears my body away from it. It flings my body away and with my remaining arm I clutch the wound as the water floods into my body leaving me in the void I started in. I look around and the glanter's seem to have left. I turn behind me and see my family again, this time I'm closer than before.
I grit my teeth and drag my body towards them slowly as I leave a trail of blood and tears behind me. I finally reach my family and grab one of my father's shoes. I stare up and he looks at me. His stare causes me to feel cold as a grotesque smile grows on his face. I stare in shock as my brothers each have the same look as my father.
I shoot up from my sleep panting heavily in a cold sweat.
“It was just a dream..just a dream…just a dream” I look at my hands as tears fall into them. I look around the room and see Preston sleeping peacefully on the couch. The room feels frozen in place as a chill runs down my spine. I get out of the bed and walk out of the bedroom. I make my way through the dark hallway and find the entrance to the balcony I saw earlier. I creak open the screen door and head outside. The Balcony is pretty large, about the size of the kitchen in the house. There are some chairs knocked over next to a table and I pick one up to sit on it. I look out into the expanse of the neighborhood, houses lined up next to each other, dozens broken apart by roads, and dead bodies scattered across the roads.
I look up in the sky and sit back in the chair. The sky looks empty except for the moon giving this world its only source of light. Without the moon, we’d be left in darkness. It hangs in the sky alone, no stars, no clouds, nothing but itself, and the void of the sky. I think back about the dream I had. My dad and my brother's all dead and possessed and then they kill me. I start to tear up thinking about it. I try to wipe away the tears but it’s no use. I'm too scared for my family. I don't know where they are if they're alive if they're worried about me I don't know anything! I start to quietly cry into my hands. I don't know how long I'm sitting there until I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn my head to face it and I see Preston. He was smiling and looking at me. I turn away to wipe my tears and he walks next to me.
“I heard you sneaking out of the bedroom so I followed you to see where you were going.” he says “but that's not my question.” he pauses and looks at me “my question is what’s got you feeling so down?” he leans over the railing of the balcony
“It's nothing, I just came out here to clear my head.” I say as more tears escape from my eyes in big slow drops that ride down the sides of my face.
“if you don't feel like telling me you don't have to but i'll be here if you ever change your mind”. He looks up at the moon before turning to face me and his smile widens “I'll always be here with you…trust me I'm not going anywhere”
I stare up at him and wipe away my tears as a smile grows on my face to match his. I get up and stare over the balcony with him. “So where are we heading next?” I say to him, Preston pulls the map we got from the man cave downstairs out from his pocket.
“After I got out of the shower I decided to take a look at the map for anything interesting we could see.”
“Ok did you find anything?” i ask
“I did,” he points at a spot on the right of the map. “We should head to the museum”
“I didn't want to go to a museum before the apocalypse why would i want to go now?'' I ask him.
“Well the best part of museums is the cool stuff right”
“Yeah what about it”
“The only problem is that you could only look at the fossils and armor but you could never take them.”
“So you want to rob a museum?” Prestons eyes light up at the question
“Exactly they might have a really cool sword I could use, or I could sharpen a dinosaur tooth and use that as a weapon, there might be a cursed shield that can summon the dead to fight for you. This opportunity is too good to pass up. We need to go!”
“That does seem pretty cool but wouldn't carrying that stuff weigh us down. What if a glanter is chasing us and we can't run fast enough because of the stuff we took from the museum.”
“We’ll only take things that are light. Even then I could just block the glanter with my newly acquired 2000 year old shield.”
“Fair enough we can go in a couple hours” I yawn and stretch out my arms. “Cause I'm feeling way too tired to walk all the way over there right now.”
“Alright i'm heading back to my couch and THEN we’ll head out to the museum” he leaves the balcony and heads back to the master bedroom leaving me alone on the balcony.
“Thanks Preston I'm not leaving either” I say into the sky. I turn around and walk back inside the house, closing the balcony door behind me. I walk back into the bedroom and Preston is hunched over and holding a flashlight looking at the map. He’s drawing lines through roads and marking X’s in different areas.
“What are the X’s for?” i ask him
“They’re places that glanter’s usually stay around. I'm marking them off so we remember not to go through them, or at least be more cautious.”
“Cool. Did you find where we are right now?” He points to an area where the lines all converge out of.
“Right around here is where the neighborhood ends. So if we follow this path we can make it to the museum in one piece” I pat him on the back and take the map from his hands.
“Get some sleep Preston, we have a full day tomorrow” he grins to himself before laying down on the couch. I put the map back into my bag and hop on the bed to get to sleep. I cover my body in the quilt and roll over facing away from Preston as he falls asleep. I nestle myself into the bed and slowly fall asleep to get ready for the next day.
I'm awoken by Preston shaking the bed I'm sleeping on. My eyes open and the room is foggy, I wipe away the sleep from my eyes and focus my attention towards Preston. He's practically jumping out of his skin with excitement, he's already fully dressed for the trip and shaking the bed with a wide smile on his face.
“Ok ok i'm up the air feels heavy as a groggy feeling fills my body. I wipe my eyes and the room starts to clear up. I turn to face Preston. He's still shaking my bed to wake me up, he’s already fully dressed and nearly jumping out of his skin in excitement.
“Ok ok, i'm up you can stop shaking the bed” i say
“Then get up we’ve got a long walk ahead of us” he says as he stops shaking the mattress. He grabs the map from my bag and points to one of the red lines.
“We're gonna follow this way to the museum. We’ll move past the hotel around the ice skating rink and around the park. We’ll mainly stick to walking through the streets, we might have to go rooftop hopping to avoid any glanter’s if we see them but i'm sure we won’t reach that point.” he explains
“Wait, wait, wait, why are avoiding the skating rink and the park” i ask
“ everytime we go near the park there's weird noises and light coming out of it”
“And why can't we go to the ice skating rink?”
“I didn't think it would be important”
“It couldn't hurt to check it out at least”
“Fine we could make a detour”
“Ok and how do you plan on getting on top of roofs?”
“I'm sure we'll figure it out when we get to it”
“Ok man as long as you’re sure '' I yawn and step out of the bed. Preston starts to put the map in his bag. I walk into the bathroom with my clothes and change out of my pajamas. Minutes later I walk out and see Preston sitting on the couch twiddling his thumbs.
“Finally you're out” he smiles at me before handing me my bag and slinging it over his shoulder. We took a last look inside the kitchen to see if we missed anything. Afterwards we leave for the outside. The cold air bites at my face but Preston walks down the stairs, his face buried in the map. I jog to catch up to him as we both head into the street.
“Hey Preston, could I see the map?”
“Sure” he hands over the map and continues walking. I look at the map and the numerous lines drawn on roads. I look at the corner of the map and notice a small map key with numerous symbols for different areas like a library, school, hospital, and more. There's even a way to tell how far away each location is. The text reads “1 inch=5 miles” I quickly count how far we are from the museum.
“Dude this museum is like 100 miles away.”
“Yep it'll be a long walk, it'll take us a while to get there”
“Did you plan on us walking there the whole time?”
“We might find bikes or something.” he pauses “well i did think we would walk the whole way”
“This is gonna take us weeks to get there!”
“Did you have anything else planned?”
“Well…i guess not but we should still try to find some bikes or something”
“Ok if we see any way to travel faster we’ll take it”
“Alright cool” I hand him the map back and he folds it back up and puts it in his bag. We walk further until we leave the gated neighborhood we started in. Preston takes the map back out and looks at it before he turns right and continues walking. I follow him staring forward at the expanse of the road. The outside of the neighborhood is surrounded by roads all leading to different parts of Newkinawa. We walk past a sign that reads “Coretown 20 miles ahead” I nudge Preston towards the sign and he checks the map again.
“Yep, the museum’s in Coretown. Would you believe the residents were pretty proud of it. Should be a fun place to explore” he says
“Yeah but it’ll take us a million years to get there.” i complain
“Lighten up, I'm sure it will be worth it”. We continue walking down the road slowly making our way to Coretown.

Exfiltration

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

Huge shout out to u/ryguy637 & u/-Eterox for helping with Brainstorming and Co-Writing this.
As always, all credits for the original Nature of Predators and it's content goes to Space Paladin15, thank him for allowing artist and writers to use his original work of art for their own uses.
Gaian Ref Sheet-Here, Done by the artist u/Roddcherry
As well as a *Huge* thank you for Julian Sky's for filling in for being an editor again for this chapter! This chapter will be pulling away from the subject memory transcription, instead exploring one of the new regions within the Venian Commonwealth. The "Dark Corner"
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"This program is a special update to the Thafki Advocacy’s situation on their new home world, Ayzife. Originally we here at WTWN had done a piece a couple of years back towards the last days of the War, and now we wanted to send one of our reporters to find out- has anything changed? With that, we'll let Rux Limpbut take it away for this one. And please do be aware, user discretion is advised.”
The date of my arrival to Ayzife, the new Thafki homeworld, had arrived. It was a part formally called by our government the “New Re-Seeding Sector”, but It had gained a painful nickname as quickly as it was given its government one. “The Dark Corner”.
A group of Thafki, listless and confused, is shown, as a small group of Gaians seem to herd them back into a recently finished project. A Gaian man is showing us around, telling us of the hardships, his face has been blurred for their safety.
“What am I to do?” The thick Mountaineer accent rang out from the man’s scarred face. He was one of the first officers that had come across the cattle ranches and the true extent of the horror that laid within them. “The adults can't speak, they can't learn. The children are really the only hope…” his accented voice trails off as he checked within some of the residences, some of the seemingly adult Thafki, stunted and confused, are being hand fed. They do not respond to any orders, at least not to ones in any other language except that of the prey killers, or that of our Horned and able bodied Sister species.
The children are crowded around their parents, speaking in a mix of Thafki and a Piggish- like squealing imitation of Arxur. One approaches me and the cameraman, asking us a question.
“Savageness?” They eek out. Compared to the parents, the children seem blissfully unaware to what they or what their loved ones went through, their eyes shining brightly, even if they're glazed over in a mountain of unrealized horror. Our guide calls over a shabbily dressed Thafki, in an overly large uniform. Hand-me-downs from our sister species. It has been hemmed to solgalik and back, but it was still painfully apparent that it barely fit comfortably.
The Thafki, as I was to learn later, “Guzifi” or police, takes the child away and back into the building we peered into. Our cameraman zooms into the back of their necks, a painfully visible barcode and scratched in number can be seen. I stand aghast, before our guide comes back to us, his eyes sullen and shrunken into his head, hammered with fatigue.
“As I was saying…*most* of them can't do anything. But the ones like Curzix there-” he gestures to the man, who is now knelt down, stroking the child's hair, a faint giggle echoing in the sparse abode “-He escaped early into his stint, it hardened him. He was one of the first to sign up once we finished the terraforming process at the beginning of this year.”
We are hurried on, “Curzix” soon rejoins us as we continue to inspect and report. Only months ago this entire section we were in was a barren wasteland, only recently finished terraforming. Now? It's crammed with tightly knit buildings, services, and other amenities. But it's not enough. “Reservists” from our Sister species, as they called them, are the majority of people dealing with the Thafki here, only a handful of Guzifi are to be seen amongst the crowds and herd of broken.
Soon we find ourselves in a “rehabilitation” facility, so to speak, the local baker is the first to greet us, head to toe in traditional thafkian garb, and a small basket of baked goods they had made earlier this morning. She gestures for us to take some, which me and the cameraman do.
“And this-” the Provincial-Governor who had been tailing with us begins, before the Thafki finishes for him
“I'm Zaifi.” She sticks her hand out, and I do the same in kind. I quickly noted that she seemed to be the only light in this icker of dark, bitter sadness that assuaged us. She turns around and begins to wander through the halls as we begin to trail behind her, questions outpouring.
“Are you one of the Free Thafkis that came here?” I ask, she nods in response while clearing her throat..
“Yes. I might be one of the few to even go so far as to say my life's been better since I came here.” She responds. I nod along, taking her words in as I take a bite of the customary “Cionn” bread.
It's one of the signs of the Thafki Advocacy's-now Thafki Republic-Efforts to Re-Seeding their culture and themselves. I'm later told it's an offshoot of a more savory dinner bread, softer and less sweet called Uniffin'Dath, although I'm also told that that type of bread is used in conjunction with Striou (not Strayu) soup.
While I do so, however, I take glances behind me and to the sides of me. Behind me, the Gaian Sector-Governor, Halim and the Thafki Republic’s first Councilor, Ralikenn are having a heated discussion. Something our camera notices as he increases the sensitivity on the recording equipment.
“...I can't believe you all….a junta that…” are the words picked up from Ralikenn, as Halim begins to frown heavily, and begins to speak back.
“... Can't you… supplies arrived…” The discussion continues as Zaifi grabs my attention, the cameraman I'm with peering into the doors we pass by.
The camera pans to Thafki children, in various states of appearance, are sat down in school desks. At the front of their rooms either a Gaian or Thafki teacher can be seen, teaching anything from their language, their dress code, etiquette and more. Soon the camera pans back to Rux and Zaifi.
“So while I serve the food here, I also try and show them the history of us and our resilient culture through it. The background of it, how it came to be and how it weaves with us.” Zaifi continues as we walk down the hallway, she veers off into one of the rooms, and hesitantly I follow.
The inside was quite well worn for how new the building was, already indentations, marks, and other scratches and scuffs could be seen. Signs of hard work and labor, something that is unsurprising considering Zaifi and her duties. As she begins to work, it's time for me to ask her about her thoughts on the situation.
“Compared to the last couple of decades, where do you think your species is at now? I mean, a lot has changed. From being a species with the large portion of your population being cattle to now having a government and world handed to you, it's got to be a bit jarring?”
Zaifi nods, the trademark pearls on a brooch around her neck click and clack gently together, the synthetic pearls a sign of what the Advocacy group had been able to hold on to throughout the centuries.
“Well-” she starts off, as she begins to knead a greenish-blue dough on the distinctly brown work surface, the faint smell of Saltwine being smelt from where I was standing. “I wish we got a welcome, as good as the Paltans and the Gaians gave us. I mean, they split half and half on things here and there around the village!”
The camera pans around the room, bits and baubles of Zaifi’s own life being dotted around it. A bottle or two of sea wine, a basket of synthetic pearls, hints of oceanic theming bedazzle the room.
Zaifi begins to portion out the Bread-a serving of Cionn. A serving of the more savory Uniffin'Dath. Both are seasoned with a spice that is only rarely mentioned in some cookbooks, “Izuzdath.” The process is lively, a stark contrast to last year's report at a holding world as they finished terraforming here.
If you were to have told me that a Thafki would be smiling while knee deep in this grime that is misery, I would've called you a liar. But apparently…
“So how long have you been around here? Or rather should I say, with the herd?” I ask. It causes Zaifi to stop and look at the basket of pearls. Each of them are inscribed with a loved or close one that died, and the date on which they did so. Many of them aren't her relatives, rather they are the few Thafki she has bonded with while staying here.
“Physically? Only…a year or two. But mentally-” The dull sound of the bread being put upon a pre-oiled stone, an smoothed coral stone no less, echoed softly while the grinding of such a stone sliding into one of the waiting ovens as it did so was a stark contrast. The clasp of the oven door closing caused her to turn back to us. She sighs as she pats down her apron.
“Centuries. I guess we grew accustomed to being the odd ones out. Now that my herd- my people, have a place to call their own…” She is sullen for a moment, before her eyes meet the window, overlooking a courtyard. The smile reappears just as quickly as it disappeared.
“Ya know. I'll take this for now, the funniest thing ya know-” she gestures to me to come over and look. The courtyard has a simple watery filled pit. A “pool” as our sister species had dubbed it, seemed to be the eye and star of this little facility, at least for the attendee's. A whole gaggle of Thafki children, in a wardrobe of mismatched, shabby clothing suited for the water could be seen as they ran about it. What I could only assume was their teacher watched over them.
“Your saplings are quite the good match. Even they seem to want to bring the water to themselves sometimes.” She says to herself now in a far more reassured tone. As I begin to smile myself, just a little, a tap is felt on my shoulder. It's Curzix, the Guzifi that has been assigned to us.
The camera now zooms out from the pool and the other recreational activities happening in the center of the U-shaped facility, and turns around quickly, now focusing on Rux and Curzix.
“We'll we're ready to go when you are, you all wanted to get the full experience yeah?” Curzix stuffs his paws into the oversized and hemmed coats pockets, the armband with the symbol of Guzifi. He meanders off as we begin to follow him, I say my goodbyes to Zaifi, and she returns them in kind as we are led back out of the hallway.
We start off now checking the facility in depth, taken into one classroom in particular. It is here that our cameraman points out something peculiar. The extreme range of coloring in the Thafki children here. Looking past numerous ranch markings, numbering, and a word inscribed on the arm of each in the Ruinous Lizards language, the Thafki children are striking.
The camera makes cuts to each of the Thafki children in the room. The variety of blues is numerous. Some are in a vibrant luscious blue, other ones have a dull, greyer one. And yet these are the least eye-catching ones. Some have sporadic spots. Some have a sickly greenish blue hue. And yet some are completely devoid of their regular blue, replaced with a dull brown. The camera now returns to overlooking the entirety of the room from the doorway.
As I entered the room the teacher, who had requested that their face be blurred, comes to me and shakes my hand. They gesture to the Thafki pupils, who are in varied state of affairs. Some of them are paying attention, while others are far more focused on their desks or some portion of the wall.
“You came in at a good time, we're trying to teach them Thafki. It's been a bit of a struggle, but we've been making some slow and small progress.” the teacher comes alongside one of the brightly colored pupils, resting their hand gently on their shoulder. The child flinches for a bit, expecting something as they tense up, before they relax.
“Are they a handful?” I ask to the teacher as they themselves point onto a piece of paper in front of the pup, pointing something out
“From time to time. But whenever the horned fellows come along they calm down quite a bit.” the Thafki’s eyes dart occasionally from the paper on the desk to the doorway behind us, looking back shows the Sector-Governor that has been with us this entire time.
The last time we had visited a rehabilitation center-albeit it was just after the war had wrapped up-the facility was in a far more ramshackle situation compared to now, but while the situation is improving, there's still more to do.
With our little visit to the center done our entourage made our way outside. As we did so a rumbler, an armored vehicle used by our other half, came rolling by. A gaggle of Thafki on it, a Gaian within the group giving us a glance as they went by.
It's here where the uncomfortable nature and scandalous portion of the Re-Seeding comes in. The Laborer gangs, seen as a solution to perceived laziness on Ayzife from some of the Ex-Cattle. The concept is basic and rudimentary both in premise and execution, anything simple is offered up to the gangs first, before giving up to the more general labor sections assigned to the planet.
We keep trudging along, the plethora of buildings being assembled or constructed is numerous along the trail we're taking. Along our way, Ralikenn begins to talk about how far they've come in such a short time span. He gestures to the buildings before he begins to speak.
“All of this-” Our cameraman moves and angles his camera to the row of unfinished buildings, in various states of construction. “In just about a year, it's nearly unbelievable to be honest. I had, tearfully, resigned myself to a forgone conclusion to our species. But now?-” They begin to tear up clearly overwhelmed at this point, they attempt to speak but all that happens is their mouth staying agape for mere moments, before closing and just shaking their head.
And yet there's still more to see. More to do and more to make right. I only hope we can do it in time, as a herd.

AEW Collision, Mar 1, 2025:
Kurt Angle's TNT Championship Open Challenge
[Kurt Angle decides that to celebrate his Title win, he will be giving one unlucky soul a chance to be battered, broken, and rendered unable to keep competing. Whoever accepts this challenge is in store for a career ending slaughter, where Doc Samson will force them to retire.
Kurt waits in intense arrogance before a series of tranquil chords hit in quick succession, a sinister appetizer for what's to come, the words KATSUYORI SHIBATA fill the screen, and The Wrestler himself stomps to the ring.
Shibata - Angle, face to face.
Commentary is keen to mention Shibata is one person who definitely wouldn't feel any fear in the face of a threat like that.
"Katsuyori Shibata, well this is better than I imagined it would be. Now I get to finish what God couldn't and retire you for good."
And with those words, a declaration of war has been written and signed.
Shibata is able to match Angle for grappling early, keeping Kurt guessing with a series of holds. He gets hold of Kurt's arm at one point and is able to do some fair damage with an armbar. Kurt gets frustrated with Shibata who smiles at Kurt after avoiding his umpteenth submission attempt.
Angle slaps Shibata across the face, Shibata's head goes down, his eyes go cold. He throws a boot that rocks Angle in the face, Kurt goes to the corner where Shibata meets him with repeated forearms to the mouth. Shibata runs to the opposite corner, Angle meets him there with a charging shoulder thrust to the ribs.
Angle to the opposite corner, Shibata meets him with a pump kick, Shibata to the opposite corner, Angle charges in for a rolling axe kick, Shibata moves, Angle hits the turnbuckles, Angle upside down in the corner, Shibata to the other side of the ring, Katsuyori takes a moment to compose himself, focusing his energy before charging in for a corner dropkick crushing Angle into the turnbuckles.
Shibata pulls Angle up and gets a stiff forearm, Angle returns but his dominant arm is weak from the early attack by Shibata. The two begin to trade forearms, Shibata always seeming to strike quite a bit harder.
Angle gets a flurry of right and left forearms backing Shibata up, Angle runs the ropes and Shibata gets a spin kick to the midsection before kicking at the back of Angle's knee. Shibata begins to target the not fully healed knee of Kurt now, locking figure fours and bow and arrow submissions.
Angle is reeling on the ropes after the onslaught, Shibata runs the ropes and looks for a big boot to send Angle out, Angle catches the leg, hooks around the neck and suplexes Shibata to the floor. Angle dives off the apron crushing Shibata at ringside before hitting a belly to belly suplex into the barricade.
Angle shoves Shibata back in and attempts a Moonsault, Katsuyori avoids and Angle backs into the corner where Shibata gets a big boot. He grabs Angle by the back of his neck, sprinting to the opposite side of the ring and connecting with another big boot once he plants Angle there.
He grips Angle by the back of his neck and gets sixteen forearms to the ear and jaw area, he gets a running start to the other corner before circling back with another corner dropkick.
Angle rolls to the apron to create distance and Shibata follows him there. A flurry of forearms connect yet again before Shibata backs up and gets a running dropkick to the downed Angle against the steel post!
Shibata sends Kurt back in and gets a two count, Angle pulls himself up on the ropes and Shibata looks for a German, Angle grips onto the ropes for dear life, Shibata lands a straight axe kick to the targeted arm and Angle recoils, Shibata runs the ropes and Kurt gets a rolling axe kick. Angle looks into the camera, beads of sweat running down, a frenzied look in the face, black mouth-piece in.
He grabs Shibata up and gets a big belly to belly, he's on all fours at this point, stalking, waiting for his next opening. German Suplex, yet again, completes the trio by throwing Shibata onto his head. Shibata clutches at his neck, but Kurt won't stop. Fallaway Slam by Angle, bodyslam by Angle. Kurt climbs and lands a moonsault to the upper body and face of Shibata, crushing his skull against the canvas.
Shibata is able to answer the count, so Angle stalks a dazed Shibata. Angle Slam, Katsuyori on his feet, STO by Shibata. As Angle recovers from the STO, Shibata is able to get some breathing room from the series of throws he took. Both men get to their knees, head to head, eye to eye. They begin exchanging forearms once more, but this time Angle has a more even playing field due to the headache beginning to start for Shibata.
Angle begins mixing in uppercuts with his forearms, Shibata catches him on one of these with a backslide, Angle kicks out and Shibata greets him with a chop across the neck, spinning backfist, a trio of forearms. Angle stops reacting, and stares up at Shibata, he lets out a shout and Shibata goes for a fourth forearm. Angle ducks and pushes Shibata into the corner before dragging him out with a Rolling German Suplex planting Shibata on his head.
Shibata on his hands and knees, trying to catch his bearings and make sense of the fog in his vision. Kurt climbs and gets a picture perfect moonsault to the kneeling Shibata. Katsuyori barely gets the shoulder up, Angle stares in disbelief at the ref, leaving himself still pinned over Shibata.
Shibata latches onto the arm getting a Kimura applied on the wounded Angle. Angle writhes until he finally grasps the bottom rope to force separation. Shibata drags Angle into the center of the ring. He tees off on the shoulder blade with kicks, he slaps Angle in the back of the skull sending a cloud of perspiration flying.
Shibata calmly crosses his legs, sitting down across from the crawling Angle. Angle gets to his knees, the two begin chopping each other in the face. Shibata gets a knife edge chop to the ear of Angle, and Kurt gets enraged. He stands up and begins another forearm exchange with Shibata. Angle wins this time backing Shibata into the corner, repeated shoulder thrusts to the ribs follow, Shibata taking a seat.
Angle with a corner running dropkick of his own! Angle goes for it again, Shibata rises and looks for a pump kick, Angle catches him, hugs Shibata in and gets a fallaway belly to belly. Angle beckons Katsuyori up and runs the ropes, Shibata stops him with a leg lariat.
Angle crawls into the corner and Shibata starts repeatedly stepping on his head. Angle tries to crawl out of the ring, but gets paintbrushed with the boot of Shibata. He drowns Angle with scrapes of his boot, stomps and kicks. The referee eventually backs up Shibata.
Shibata brings Angle out of the corner with a snapmare takedown followed by a soccer kick to the spine. He runs the ropes for a penalty kick, which Kurt catches and turns into an Ankle Lock, with the leg trapped he pulls Shibata into a German Suplex.
Shibata on his hands and knees, Angle begins a waistlock and tries to bear hug Shibata on the canvas, Shibata crosses his legs in this position. Angle rolls Shibata, but he lands crossed legged again. This continues until Angle gets frustrated, Shibata begins elbowing Angle in the side of the face and Kurt releases his grip. He runs the ropes and Shibata gets him with a big boot followed by a German Suplex of his own.
Angle pops up and Shibata turns around into a rolling axe kick, Shibata doesn't fall, pump kick by Shibata. Shibata from the corner to a stunned Angle, big boot, Angle avoids, German Suplex by Kurt. He maintains waist control and pulls Shibata up, Shibata begins elbowing Angle to force release. Angle grips the wrist to prevent Shibata from creating distance.
Shibata kicks him in his bad arm, and Angle lets go. He oblique kicks him in his knee before kicking away at the head of Angle. Angle desperately headbutts Shibata in the chest, igniting something in Katsuyori. Shibata turns around, takes a deep breath, turns to Angle and refuses to do what he desperately wants to, thinking of his health.
He forearms Angle down to the mat and gets an octopus hold applied, Angle scrambles to the ropes, fighting out. Penalty Kick by Shibata. Angle kicks out and Shibata locks a sleeper. A focused trance look on the face of Katsuyori as he strangles Angle.
Kurt grips the ropes to force the break, Shibata clubs the arms away, grips back on, sleeper suplex. Shibata with a spinning backfist, Angle catches the wrist, he grips the other wrist, backslide, Shibata rolls through, clothesline by Angle, ducked, Shibata ties him up in position. He spins Angle out, he readies his hand, he connects.
BitchMaker to Angle.
Kurt collapses and Shibata takes his time to catch his breath and focus up, all that focus goes into repeated, poised strikes to the shoulder, underarm and elbow of the damaged Angle. Angle grips onto the wrist to try and drag his way up, Shibata kicks his grip away. Shibata goes to run the ropes, but Angle grips onto the wrist again, avoids a clothesline attempt, traps both arms. Straight-Jacket Suplex on Shibata.
All of the weight coming down on his head and neck. Angle pulls up Shibata, German Suplex #1, Shibata begins elbowing Angle in the ear, German Suplex #2, Shibata still driving his elbow into the ear of Angle, Release German Suplex. Shibata lays motionless, blood begins trickling out of the ear of Angle, physical evidence of the desperation Shibata felt.
Angle brushes off the doctor's attempts to check on him, Kurt with an Angle Slam, but Shibata digging into the wound on the ear, Angle loses his balance, Shibata on his feet. Shibata hooks on from behind, trapping Angle's arm.
するか死ぬか
He spins Angle out, rainmaker style and closes the gap with a sickening headbutt to Kurt. Kurt collapses, but so does Shibata. He lays exhausted, head throbbing. Finally after over a minute, he musters the strength to crawl to the cover.
One, Two, Kurt kicks out. Kurt rises before Shibata who is kneeling, clutching his head. Angle pulls him up for a German, but Shibata refuses to go, clutching the back of his head and shaking his head. It's not an act of defiance or resilience, this is a man trying to stay alive.
Angle, despite having animalistic tendencies, has respect for Shibata after tonight and he shows mercy. He sends Shibata into the ropes chest first and when Katsuyori rebounds, he's caught with an Angle Slam. A cover by Kurt over the defenseless Shibata leads to one simple phrase, but one that intensifies the fullness in Shibata's head.
'And Still.']
Kurt Angle (c) def Katsuyori Shibata to retain the TNT Championship
AEW Big Business Dynamite, Mar 19, 2025:
Kota Ibushi vs Kurt Angle (c), TNT Championship
[Shortly after defeating Shibata in the hardest hitting match of Angle's career, he begins to lash out at the company that gave him his first big break. New Japan.
He states that he can work circles around any NJPW darling that think they're special because they had a few flashy matches in a company nobody watches.
This summons Kota Ibushi, vignettes have been airing teasing his return, but he finally appears coming face to face with Angle. The following week is Big Business and the bout is on.
Ibushi's fluid striking is able to pause Angle, Kurt attempts to make up for the strike deficit with suplexes, but Kota is incredibly spry and able to land safely on most everything Angle throws at him.
Ibushi with a series of strikes ending in a roundhouse, Angle ducks, German Suplex, Ibushi lands on his feet. Dropkick by Kota sends Kurt to the floor. Ibushi with a Triangle Moonsault to ringside, leveling Kurt.
Ibushi sends Kurt back in and goes for a Last Ride, Angle escapes and lands a German Suplex to Ibushi. Kurt begins to climb the turnbuckles, but Ibushi gets up and powerbombs Kurt from the middle turnbuckle, Angle kicks out, and Ibushi flips him onto his knees for a Kamigoye!
Angle catches the knee, and gets an Ankle Lock applied. Ibushi rolls free and sends Angle into the corner. Knee blast in the corner by Kota. He runs the ropes and Angle catches him with a belly to belly over the top rope.
Kurt climbs for a Moonsault to ringside, Ibushi avoids. Ibushi charges into the ring, Triangle Moon- Angle leaps onto the apron and German Suplexes Kota on to the apron, Ibushi's neck bouncing as he cadcades to the floor.
Angle quickly gets Kota back in, and attacks the ankle, Kota struggles, half conscious. He finally makes it to the ropes and is able to get back to his feet. He unloads with palm strikes and a slap to the face of Angle. Kurt looks for a clothesline, Kota ducks and gets a Pele Kick.
Ibushi pulls Kurt up for a Phoenix-Plex, Angle lands on his feet, not allowing Kota to drive his neck into the canvas. Angle Slam connects, and with that, Kurt has vanquished another NJPW legend.]
Kurt Angle (c) def Kota Ibushi to retain the TNT Championship
[Kurt grabs a microphone and begins berating Ibushi. He says this proves it, all those New Japan darlings that these marks worship, they're old, they're broken down, and they are no match for a Wrestling Machine.
Angle looks to target Ibushi again, getting a chair in hand, when all of a sudden Battle Cry hits. Kenny Omega storms the ring, avoiding a chair shot before hitting a V-Trigger sending the chair into Angle's face. Kurt retreats as Omega helps Ibushi up and Kurt's next challenge becomes increasingly clear, arguably the greatest NJPW wrestler of all time, Kenny Omega.]
AEW Dynasty, Apr 12, 2025:
Kenny Omega vs Kurt Angle (c), TNT Championship
[In the weeks leading up to Dynasty, we get some good build for this match including Angle and Hobbs vs Golden Lovers in which Omega pinned Hobbs for his team, as well as a segment in which Kenny and Kurt come face to face.
Kenny in full Terminator gear, he tells Kurt that he's been a big fish in a small pond until now, and that he should be careful not to forget who the original wrestling machine is.
When it comes bell time, Angle quickly recognizes Omega as the most pure athlete he's faced to date. The speed, the intensity, the pressure. Omega brings all of it in his first title match since returning late last year to combat The New Elite.
Kenny comes charging for a corner clothesline, but is caught by Angle who looks for a T-Bone Suplex into the turnbuckles, Omega with a DDT reversal. Angle rolls out and Omega begins drumming up the Terminator rhythm. Tope Con Hilo clears Angle at ringside.
Omega goes to send Kurt back in, but stops on the apron, joining Kurt there. The margin for error is thin as Omega locks the arms and gets a Snap Dragon Suplex across the thinly padded steel.
Kurt's neck issues start to become apparent here as he clutches at it. Omega goes to Irish Whip Angle into the barricade, but the momentum is reversed and Kenny is sent rocketing towards it. He promptly hops onto it and executes a Moonsault from the barricade.
Angle catches him and delivers him into the steel post, face first. Kurt proceeds to climb to the middle turnbuckle and hit a Moonsault to the downed Omega at ringside. Angle sends Kenny back in and begins his repeated German Suplexes, on the third, Omega lands on his feet and boots Angle into the turnbuckles harshly, Kurt exploding against the corner.
Kenny gets Kurt up now for One Winged Angel, Kurt rolls forward into a pinfall, Kenny kicks out and Kurt comes in with a standing 450 knee drop across the surgically repaired abdomen of Omega. Kurt now focuses up and goes after the leg, applying an Ankle Lock. Omega kicks free and slips behind Angle for a Kotaro Krusher.
Angle kicks out and Omega is left gripping his ribs as he pulls Angle up. He gets Angle on his shoulders, wincing as he does so. Rolling driver followed by a Springboard Moonsault on Angle. Kenny holds his midsection before getting Kurt up in OWA position once more.
Kurt struggles so Omega shifts him to a German Suplex, but Angle rolls into a pinfall. Omega kicks out, however, and Kurt is hot on his trail. A crossbody by Kurt takes both men to the outside.
Kurt pulls Kenny up for an Angle Slam against the steel post. Omega writhes in pain as Angle lets out a dominant cry. Kurt sets Kenny up top, but Omega fights back with wristbone strikes, sending Angle to the canvas. Kurt fires up, springing to the top turnbuckle for an Avalanche Belly To Belly, he follows through, but Omega lands on his feet!
Angle didn't see it and gets up to gloat, believing the cheers are for him. Omega gets a frenzied look in the eyes and scales to the top rope. Missile Dropkick to the back of Angle's skull.
Angel crawls to the ropes, drool leaking from his lax jaw. Omega runs the ropes for a V-Trigger against the ropes. He then exits the ring breaking out a steel chair, the ref attempts to stop him but Omega brushes him off. He opens it and sets it in the center of the ring.
Step-Stool V-Trigger! Omega covers for a near fall, and goes into the corner, talking to himself and trying to figure out how to put Angle down. Kurt recovers and tries to charge in, Omega rolls off the back and attempts a rana as Kurt comes over. Kurt with an abrupt sit-out powerbomb reversal before shoving Omega out of the ring.
Angle from the apron with a Somersault Plancha. Kurt sends Omega back in and tries for the Angle Slam, Omega with an arm drag reversal before sliding behind Kurt for a Snap Dragon into the turnbuckles. Omega runs into the opposite corner and closes in with a V-Trigger against the turnbuckles.
He pulls Angle up out of the corner and sticks a Poisonrana. Angle is able to barely survive the count. Omega in disbelief takes Angle to the top, he's thinking Avalanche OWA. Angle scrambles out and lands an Avalanche Angle Slam!
Omega somehow kicks out, and Kurt is beside himself. He goes to the top rope, a rare Frog-Splash from Angle, Omega moves, Kurt kisses the mat. V-Trigger to the back of the head, Omega pulls Kurt up, One Winged Angel connects.
Omega has ended the TNT Title reign of Kurt Angle, avenged the good name of NJPW and become a Grand Slam Champion in AEW.]
Kenny Omega def Kurt Angle (c) to win the TNT Championship
Kurt disappears for a while after this, but when vignettes begin airing detailing Angle's journey back, he's spotted being coached by one man in particular. One of the greatest technical wrestlers of all time, in Dean Malenko.
AEW Double Or Nothing, May 24, 2025:
Kurt Angle w/ Dean Malenko vs PAC
[Angle's first match back takes place two weeks prior to this one when he and Hobbs take on The Lucha Brothers. A victory for Angle and Hobbs isn't enough as Kurt attacks Fénix after the bell, refusing to release the Ankle Lock. Malenko eggs him on, telling him to break Fénix's leg.
This brings out PAC, who comes to the rescue of his long time friend and stablemate. He gets in Angle's face and shows no intimidation as he backs Kurt up. With Double Or Nothing around the corner, Angle believes PAC will make for an excellent first victim on his way to the top of the food chain.
Angle focuses more on his submission work under the advice of Malenko, he targets the legs making it hard for PAC to execute his aerial maneuvers. PAC is able to trap Angle in the Rings Of Saturn late, but Angle finds his way out, and gets a grip on the ankle. Moments later, PAC is tapping out.]
Kurt Angle def PAC
AEW Fight For The Fallen, Jun 28, 2025
Kurt Angle w/ Dean Malenko vs Will Ospreay (c), AEW World Heavyweight Championship
[Following his dominant victory over PAC, Angle sets his sights on the top of the mountain and the man standing at the peak of it. Ospreay has become unanimously agreed upon as probably the best wrestler on the planet. Angle looks to disprove this theory, and take care of another NJPW castaway.
Ospreay has Angle vulnerable and closes in for Essex Destroyer, Angle reverses with a Northern Lights and rolls through scooping Ospreay up for a deadlift powerbomb. Ospreay lands a rana reversal for a two count, before looking for Os-Cutter, Angle catches him and hits a Lawn Dart, vaulting Ospreay into the middle turnbuckle.
He begins his trio of Germans, Ospreay landing on his feet from the third and getting a superkick on Kurt. An Os-Cutter follows for a near-fall. Ospreay goes to the far corner, and charges in for Hidden Blade. Angle ducks and gets his third German Suplex.
He sets up for an Angle Slam, but Ospreay snags an arm drag reversal. Vertical dropkick by Ospreay who lands on his feet, enziguri connects, Ospreay with a handspring but caught by Angle with a German.
Ospreay goes to the outside and Kurt goes up top for a Moonsault to the floor, swing and a miss and Ospreay climbs. Corkscrew Moonsault by Ospreay, he sends Angle back in. Os-Cutter catches Angle flush. Ospreay from across the ring now, Hidden Blade connects!
Three seconds later, and Angle's dreams of being a World Heavyweight Champion are dashed by the best in the world...for now.]
Will Ospreay (c) def Kurt Angle to retain the AEW World Heavyweight Championship
AEW All In, Aug 23, 2025:
Adam Copeland & Christian Cage (c) vs Kurt Angle & Powerhouse Hobbs w/ Dean Malenko, AEW Tag Team Championships
[Following a devastating loss to Ospreay, Angle refocuses his tag team efforts alongside Hobbs. With Copeland and Christian having made amends and gone on to capture the AEW Tag Team Titles, Angle and Hobbs are eager to knock the legendary tag team off the throne.
Copeland has Angle in position for a Spear after a prolonged period of control when Kurt reverses it into an inside cradle for a near fall. Angle creates distance and tags out to Hobbs who attempts to overpower the historic duo, but the tag team experience is too much for Hobbs and as he is inevitably defeated, Angle experiences yet another setback.]
Adam Copeland & Christian Cage (c) def Kurt Angle & Powerhouse Hobbs to retain the AEW Tag Team Championships
AEW All Out, Sep 6, 2025:
Bryan Danielson vs Kurt Angle w/ Dean Malenko
[Just two weeks removed from a victory over long time rival, Nigel McGuiness, Danielson is riding high and wants the most intense competition possible for All Out.
Naturally, this attracts Kurt Angle, a man who has never been submitted, yet has an incredible string of submission victories. He challenges Danielson's claims to be the best technical wrestler in the world, and promises to tap out The Dragon.
Throughout the dream contest, Angle targets and does significant damage to the knee and ankle of Bryan. Bryan attempts to apply similar limb targeting to the previously injured arm of Angle. With both men's history of neck issues, there's plenty of nasty envelope pushes in that department as well.
Bryan looks for a Busaiku Knee late when Angle catches him and gets a powerbomb reversal, he then applies a Boston Crab, squeezing the Achilles Tendon of Danielson. Bryan is able to edge to his back and roll Angle into a pin.
Kurt kicks out, and Danielson lands a roundhouse to a kneeling Angle, leaving him lamenting himself after he feels the effect on his leg. He pulls Angle up for a Dragon Suplex, but Angle breaks the grip and gets a Snapmare Takedown.
Bryan lands on his feet and begins blistering Angle with repeated kicks to the chest, wincing after every one. He finally backs up and tries for the roundhouse, but Kurt catches him in an Ankle Lock.
Kurt twists away at the squirming Danielson, who is able to turn just enough to start landing up-kicks to the bad shoulder of Angle. Danielson then gets a Triangle, pulling Angle in to the submission.
He traps the bad arm and begins striking away at the shoulder socket with elbows. Angle powers up, lifting Danielson before dumping him into the turnbuckles, crumpling Bryan into the corner.
Angle whips Bryan into the corner and he performs a Springboard Moonsault, landing on his bad ankle. Kurt slithers in and cinches an Ankle Lock in yet again. Bryan rolls out and gets a LeBell Lock applied, the bad arm of Angle angled awkwardly. Kurt makes the ropes and Bryan fires up into the corner.
He beckons Kurt up and closes the distance with a Busaiku Knee, Angle ducks, Bryan's bad knee hits the top turnbuckle! Angle Slam connects!
Kurt covers and in doing so obtains the single biggest victory of his career so far. An incredible effort from both men, and an incredible step forward for Kurt Angle.]
Kurt Angle def Bryan Danielson
AEW WrestleDream, Oct 11, 2025:
Bryan Danielson vs Kurt Angle w/ Dean Malenko vs Zack Sabre Jr., Ultimate Submission
[A victory over Bryan Danielson should have Kurt on cloud nine, but he can't help feel disappointed that he didn't deliver on his promise. He didn't tap Bryan out. He challenges Danielson, one more match, a thirty minute timer, no pinfalls, most submissions wins.
Rather than Danielson, it's NJPW's resident technical wizard, Zack Sabre Jr. who answers the call. He states that him and Angle have unfinished business. In the G1 Climax last year, Zack had Angle on the brink of submission but just as Kurt was about to give in, his body gave out and he passed out instead.
Zack has kept that goal in the back of his head since, to make the unsubmittable Kurt Angle tap out. Kurt says that he has great respect for Sabre Jr. but right now he is focused on Danielson.
Bryan enters and states a solution, a triple threat match, under Angle's proposed rules of course, to finally determine who the best technical wrestler in the world is.
Match time arrives and all three men feel the pressure in the air. Three of the most technically gifted pro wrestlers of all time engaged in a war for a chance to finally be crowned the undisputed king of tapping people out.
Twenty five minutes of pure grappling glory elapse, and despite some close calls, none of the three competitors have submitted. With five minutes remaining, all three men are volatile in their pursuit to finally get a point.
Bryan looks for a diving knee strike, when Kurt catches him and cinches an Ankle Lock. Danielson rolls forward and Zack leaps onto the shoulders of Kurt, ranas him to the canvas and locks a mounting triangle.
Bryan with a roundhouse to Zack, pulling him off of Kurt, Bryan proceeds to lock Cattle Mutilation on Sabre who kicks and struggles to survive the maneuver.
Kurt out of nowhere with a Moonsault to Danielson! The grip on Sabre Jr. released, Zack rolls out of the ring. Kurt focuses on Danielson, landing his trio of German Suplexes, Bryan on his feet during the third attempt.
Busaiku Knee, Kurt ducks just enough to catch Bryan across his shoulders. Torture Rack applied on Danielson, bending Bryan over his shoulders. Bryan shifts off the shoulders and locks a Guillotine on Angle, trying to cut off blood flow to the brain.
Angle attempts to reverse with a Northern Lights, but Bryan lands on his feet and maintains grip, forming a bridging guillotine. Zack slithers in, kicking Bryan in the knee and causing Danielson to kneel while keeping the Guillotine applied.
Zack gets a Triangle on Bryan while Bryan has a reverse Guillotine on Kurt, after a few moments, Bryan has to cut his losses with Kurt and try to escape Sabre's grip.
He inches free of the Triangle, getting grip on the legs for a Boston Crab. He tucks the legs and bridges back for a modified Muta Lock. He gives up and applies a seated Guillotine. No matter what Bryan does, Sabre fights on, less than a minute remains when Bryan locks the LeBell Lock.
He drives his knuckles into the nose of Sabre, eventually garnering color, as the crimson begins to leak into his mouth. Danielson covers the mouth and nose with his hands, seconds remain when Kurt rushes in to save the match.
Zack Sabre Jr. is drowning in his own blood.
Three, Two, Sabre Jr. taps!
With one second on the clock, Danielson forces a submission, Kurt was fingertips away from saving the match-up. Sabre Jr. is released and inhales big, gulping breathe, bile and blood leaking from his mouth. Angle gets to his feet and approaches Danielson.
A handshake follows as Bryan Danielson is acknowledged as the Ultimate Submission Master in one of the greatest displays of technical wrestling ever.]
Bryan Danielson def Kurt Angle & Zack Sabre Jr. in Ultimate Submission
What isn't made clear at the time is that this actually serves as Kurt Angle's AEW farewell. He bids farewell to Malenko, telling him to watch over Hobbs for him and vice versa with Hobbs. Less than a month later, his contract expires and he opts not to resign. Questions begin to flare up about where Kurt Angle may turn up next, rumors even begin to circulate that he may be done with professional wrestling for the foreseeable future.
Remember that thing about death and taxes?
WWE Royal Rumble, Jan 31, 2026:
[The Royal Rumble arrives, and as with any given Rumble, who knows what surprises may be in store?
The Men's Rumble match is occuring when entry number twenty-seven is about to be revealed. Medal sounds and the roof comes off of Kaseya Center as the words KURT ANGLE pan across the titantron. The Olympic Hero has arrived.
Angle racks up a couple of eliminations, tossing Johnny Gargano after a fun sequence and Shinsuke Nakamura after an exchange of strikes. Angle comes face to face with AJ Styles who engages in a staredown with The Wrestling Machine.
Before they can lock up, both men are ambushed by other participants, delaying the dream match. Kurt makes it to the final six, but runs into a brick wall when he attempts to eliminate Bron Breakker.
A back and forth of control ends with Breakker on top, landing a belly to belly over the top rope to eliminate Kurt Angle.]
SmackDown, Feb 6, 2026:
John Cena's Open Challenge
[Cena, entering the twilight of his career, goes back to his old open challenge routine, wanting to face as many young superstars as he can before he calls it a career.
His first of these challenges is answered by Kurt Angle himself, who comes face to face with the established Cena. In just his second WWE match, Angle wants to lock up with the GOAT.
Cena, perplexed and expecting a talent on the roster that he was familiar with to appear, poses a reasonable question.
"Who in the hell are you?"
'I'm Kurt Angle'
"Kurt Angle, huh? Tell me, what is the one quality that you possess that makes you think you can come out here and challenge the very best?"
Angle pauses, somehow, he knows exactly what to say.
'Ruthless Aggression.'
Angle clocks Cena and the bell rings, Angle's WWE debut and he has a chance to show that ruthless aggression against one of the most reputable names in wrestling history.
Cena starts out the contest believing Angle will be an easy foe and taking time to pander to the audience. It doesn't take long though for Kurt to gain his respect with a surprise German Suplex while Cena is standing on the middle turnbuckle.
Angle begins to unload with a variety of kick variations and suplexes, wobbling Cena. Cena avoids a Moonsault and lands a Code Red for a near fall.
He beckons Angle up for an Attitude Adjustment, and Angle shifts off the shoulders to begin his trio of German Suplexes. He bridge pins on the third and Cena muscles out.
Angle looks for an Ankle Lock, but Cena rolls free. Attitude Adjustment positioning, Angle lands on his feet. Another German Suplex connects and Angle rolls through, lifting Cena into an emphatic Angle Slam.
Cena narrowly manages to kick out. Angle sizes Cena up for one more Angle Slam, Cena escapes to his feet, Attitude Adjustment, Angle shifts into a roll-up on Cena.
Three seconds later, and Angle has defeated the 16x World Champion in his WWE debut. A shocked Cena watches as Angle takes his place as a hot commodity in WWE.]
Kurt Angle def John Cena
It's not long after this that Kurt finds himself some teammates. During a bout with Akira Tozawa and Apollo Crews of WorldWide, the team of Cedric Alexander and Damon Kemp receive some unexpected assistance from Kurt Angle.
Following the bout, Angle approaches Alexander and Kemp, shortly thereafter, forming Team Angle.
WWE WrestleMania 42 - Night 1, Apr 11, 2026:
AJ Styles vs Kurt Angle
[Ever since their unsatisfying face off at the Royal Rumble, fans and these two alike have been eager to get a proper match made. Angle wants a legacy fight for WrestleMania, another name to engrave on his record.
AJ Styles refuses to be viewed as someone to be put out to pasture and tells Angle to bring his intensity, bring his intelligence, bring his integrity and then come to terms with the fact that it still won't be enough.
Angle tries for an Angle Slam after Styles misses a Springboard 450, Styles maneuvers his way over and into Styles Clash position only for Angle to grip the ankle and turn it into an Ankle Lock.
Styles writhes and tries to make the ropes, but Angle drags him back into the center of the ring and sits down into a knee bar - ankle lock fusion forcing Styles to submit to The Wrestling Machine.]
Kurt Angle def AJ Styles
WWE Backlash, May 23, 2026:
Cody Rhodes vs Kurt Angle
[Following his massive victory over AJ Styles at WrestleMania, Angle and his posse set their sights on another established vet, Cody Rhodes.
Angle tells Rhodes that Kurt is everything Cody has claimed to be, at Backlash he'll expose Cody as a fraud and show him who the true American Nightmare is.
It's a hotly contested affair with Cody, less than a year removed from his World Title run, putting Kurt to the test. Cody is in the driver's seat when a ref bump leads Cedric and Kemp to interfere, Kemp is neutralized before Cedric inadvertently lays Angle out.
Cross Rhodes to Cedric, and another one to Kurt and Rhodes has pinned The Olympic Hero.]
Cody Rhodes def Kurt Angle
WWE King & Queen Of The Ring, Jun 27, 2026:
Damian Priest vs Kurt Angle
[Kurt enters into the King Of The Ring tournament following his loss to Rhodes, but not before kicking Cedric out of Team Angle. He's replaced by a man Angle knows well, the debuting Josh Alexander.
While Josh and Kemp pick up the tag team titles, Angle focuses in on the tournament. He is able to defeat Rey Mysterio in the first round, Dragon Lee in the second, Pete Dunne in the quarters, and Cedric in the semis.
Damian, meanwhile wins the RAW bracket and the finals are set. The Punisher vs The Wrestling Machine.
In a vein very similar to what an Angle/Undertaker match looks like, Priest muscles around Angle, only for Kurt to surprise him with his own strength. Angle works on the leg, rendering Priest's kicking ability useless and kneading him for the eventual Ankle Lock.
Damian looks for Razor's Edge, powering through the pain in his leg. As he chucks Angle, Kurt reverses with a huracanrana taking Priest off guard. Angle begins his trio of Germans, on the third attempt, Priest maneuvers free and gets a Thunder Clap on Angle.
He sets up for The Reckoning, but Angle hits a Southern Lights Suplex, sending Priest forward to the canvas. Angle gets an Angle Slam for a near-fall.
A Moonsault follows, but Priest gets a grip across the throat as Kurt comes down. He lands South Of Heaven for a close two count. Damian sizes up Kurt from across the ring.
Tornado Kick, intercepted, Kurt locks onto the ankle! Priest tries to roll out, kick Kurt away, but Angle is relentless and vice grips around the ankle, torturing Damian.
Priest eventually passes out from the pain, giving Angle a victory, albeit one he's only slightly satisfied with. Regardless of how, Kurt has won King Of The Ring and will now main event SummerSlam for the World Heavyweight Championship.]
Kurt Angle def Damian Priest
WWE Battleground, Jul 25, 2026:
Brock Lesnar vs Kurt Angle
[Brock, having returned in the Royal Rumble earlier in the year and announcing a retirement tour, culminating at SummerSlam in his hometown, sets his sights on Kurt Angle.
Kurt, one month away from main eventing SummerSlam, accepts Brock's challenge, dubbing him one more legend Kurt can send packing.
The match is evidently very intense with Brock showing his trademark dominance and Angle impressing with bursts of strength and out-grappling Lesnar.
Towards the climax of the match, both men begin exchanging German Suplexes. Brock eventually decides to do the continuous trio ala Kurt. Angle lands on his feet on the third attempt and rolls Brock into a deadlift German Suplex.
Kurt scales for a Moonsault, but Brock catches him in mid-air for an F-5, Kurt scrambles free and gets an Ankle Lock applied. Brock is able to fight out, applying a Kimura Lock. Kurt makes it to the ropes and Brock gets fed up.
Lesnar goes to the top turnbuckle for the first time in decades and attempts a Shooting Star Press. Kurt moves and Lesnar eats canvas, Angle immediately jumps onto the leg of Brock applying an agonizing Ankle Lock.
After minutes of Kurt's snake-like refusal to release his grip, he does what few have ever been able to do and makes The Beast tap out. After the bout, Brock shakes the hand of Kurt Angle and Kurt looks ahead to his titanic Heavyweight Title opportunity.]
Kurt Angle def Brock Lesnar
As Angle approaches war at SummerSlam, he decides that Team Angle needs an advisor. Someone that can guide them to their ultimate goal of every member holding gold. He says for three of the best technical wrestlers in the world, their advisor must be of a similar status.
He enlists none other than The Excellence Of Execution, The Hitman is in Team Angle. Bret coaches Kurt in the lead-up to SummerSlam, giving him tips and reviewing old tapes showing how he won his Titles.
CONT. In Comments

Kurt Angle, often regarded as one of the greatest wrestlers in history and with good reason. The man who won an Olympic gold medal with a broken neck came onto the scene in WWE between late 1999 and early 2000.
He went on to carve out an incredible career for himself, winning world titles the world over. Whether it was WWE, TNA or even NJPW - Angle made sure to leave an impact everywhere he went.
What if things were different though? What if Kurt Angle never debuted in the attitude era and instead, at the prime age of 32, Kurt Angle debuted in the wrestling world we know today?
Who would he cross paths with? Would he reach the same heights he did in his day? I intend to explore this topic and find out for myself.
Can The Wrestling Machine thrive in the Renaissance Era? Only time will tell...
The year is 2023 and Kurt Angle arrives on the scene, he's well known as is from his historic feat in 2021, when he won a gold medal with a broken neck at the Summer Olympics.
Many would expect Kurt to chase this success into something significant, but many are surprised and intrigued when it's made clear what his future goals are.
To transition into the world of sports entertainment and become a professional wrestler.
He spends his first year working the independent scene, making appearances in GCW specifically. There, he ends up having standout matches with the likes of Brian Cage and Powerhouse Hobbs who make special guest appearances to lock up with the hot commodity. He even has a half-decent match with Jake Hager, in a bout that seems like it could've been something special if Hager was about a decade younger and still The All American American.
By the time June 2024 rolls around, dirt sheets are speculating that most of the major professional wrestling companies are showing great interest in Kurt, but it's likely he will turn up in WWE due to their extensive track record transitioning athletes from various walks of life and countless different sports.
Imagine everyones surprise then, when Hiroshi Tanahashi announces NJPW has signed Kurt Angle, not to a full time contract but for a very exciting purpose indeed.
The G1 Climax.
Along with him in B Block are seven other supremely talented athletes, some of NJPW's finest along with a couple of freelancers from other promotions.
NJPW, G1 Climax 34 - Night 1, July 15, 2024:
Eddie Kingston vs Kurt Angle
[Kurt's first match of the G1 comes in the form of the Mad King, Eddie Kingston. Eddie's striking and submission based aggression pairs well with Kurt's grappling and limb targeting. Angle is able to rattle Eddie throughout the match with throws and suplexes, as well as his ability to outmaneuver Eddie's submission attempts.
The match comes to a close as Eddie comes out of the corner with a Uraken to a wobbly Angle. Kurt ducks and latches on for a German Suplex, maintaining waist control, a second German Suplex, yet again. Kurt pulls Kingston up to complete the trio, but Eddie hooks onto the top turnbuckle. Kurt shows his strength, suplexing Kingston as the padding goes flying.
Kurt tries for an Angle Slam, but Kingston finds his footing behind Kurt, and grips hold of the neck, cinching a bulldog choke. Kurt struggles up before marching towards the corner and diving downwards, thus driving Eddie skull first into the exposed turnbuckle.
An Angle Slam follows, and Kurt secures a win in his NJPW debut.]
Kurt Angle (2) def Eddie Kingston (0)
NJPW G1 Climax 34 - Night 3, July 18, 2024:
Jeff Cobb vs Kurt Angle
[Kurt's second match of the G1 proves to be a very interesting one indeed. Jeff Cobb, a former olympian himself, is perhaps one of the only wrestlers on the planet who can match Angle regarding his knowledge of suplexes, throws, power maneuvers and grapples.
The match begins to near the end as Cobb has Angle up top in a deadlift stalling superplex, Angle is able to land on his feet behind Cobb and German Suplex Cobb off the middle turnbuckle.
Angle looks for an Angle Slam, but Cobb lands on his feet and tries for Tour Of The Islands, but Kurt scrambles free and lands a German Suplex, maintains waist control, Cobb breaks free and steps behind Angle, German Suplex, Angle does the same thing, Cobb gets fed up and hits a German Suplex that lands Angle flat on his face as Cobb releases the waist.
Cobb signals for the end and looks for a standing moonsault, Kurt avoids and hits a throwing German Suplex of his own. Angle scales the turnbuckles, moonsault! At the ref's count of two, Cobb sits up with Angle in his arms. Tour Of The Islands connects! Near-fall!
Cobb gets Angle up on his shoulder, Angle escapes and locks on to the ankle, Jeff rolls forward and sends Angle into the corner. Angle steps backwards into the arms of Cobb, Tour Of The Isl- Angle on his feet! Angle Slam!
Kurt begins to scale the ropes and lands another moonsault. With that, Cobb finally stays down and Angle is able to outlast his counterpart.]
Kurt Angle (4) def Jeff Cobb (0)
NJPW G1 Climax 34 - Night 5, July 21, 2024:
Kurt Angle vs Kushida
[Taking into consideration Kushida's rather successful MMA background, this matchup seems like a no brainer. Both men are grappling gods well regarded as being submission experts. It's on full display when they finally face off in the G1.
Kushida has been vocal about his displeasure competing only in the Junior division and when put in the premier tournament of NJPW's year, he's eager to prove he belongs in the main event scene.
The story told here is Angle's non stop assault on the legs and ankles of Kushida, and in return Kushida relentlessly damaging the arms and wrists of Angle.
Kushida, despite the quickly deteriorating bones in his legs, is leech like with how determined he is to stay attached to the arm of Kurt. Angle Slam? Denied and turned into a Kimura Lock. Ankle Lock? Kushida rolls forward driving Angle shoulder first into the steel post, and then Kimura Lock. German Suplex? That's what you think, it's actually a Kimura Lock.
As Kushida continuously dissects the arm, Angle begins getting increasingly desperate. He dunks Kushida into the turnbuckles harshly. Onto the apron. Into the barricade. Taking more and more drastic measures to free himself and becoming less and less successful.
Eventually Kurt is in agony and nothing seems to shake Kushida, he climbs to the top rope, hoping a drop from that height will force release. Kushida lets go without Kurt even having to drop only to reapply and look for an arm drag variation off the top.
As Kushida goes to drop, Kurt grips to the ropes and Kushida lands in a tree of woe position. Kurt grabs hold of the ears of Kushida, pulling him up slightly, before shoving him down and forcing him to collide with the turnbuckles.
He drags Kushida up to the top rope, clearly looking for something big, but Kushida goes back in with the Kimura, Kurt begins driving Kushida into the top of the steel post before actually picking Kushida up with his bad arm only and slamming Kushida into the metal.
Kurt positions himself for one last gasp effort to thwart the colorfast Kushida. Angle Slam from the top turnbuckle! An exhausted Angle crawls to cover, and is at last able to defeat Kushida.
The question quickly becomes though, as the referee is refused the chance to even raise the arm of Angle, how much damage was done?]
Kurt Angle (6) def Kushida (2)
NJPW G1 Climax 34 - Night 7, July 25, 2024:
Kurt Angle vs Matt Riddle
[Four nights after having his arm near surgically dissected by Kushida, Angle locks up against another skilled fighter endowed with MMA experience.
Riddle gives the challenge Cobb gave being able to match Angle on power, while also giving the challenge Kushida did with limb targeting and joint manipulation.
Riddle, entering his first G1 has arguably his biggest opportunity since joining NJPW earlier in the year. He spends the duration of the match peppering Angle with strikes to the arm, salting with submissions.
As the match nears it's own climax, Angle goes for a high risk moonsault only for Riddle to avoid. A final flash knee follows from the ever opportunistic Riddle. Kurt is able to kick-out, inspiring Riddle to try for a RainTrigger. Kurt blocks with his arm to avoid getting struck in the face. He winces and Riddle capitalizes with rapid palm strikes to the chest before kicking Kurt into the ropes.
As Angle rebounds, Riddle goes under the arm and tries for a falling pele kick, Kurt catches the leg and gets an Ankle Lock. Riddle is able to get back to his free foot, so Angle hits a leg trapped German Suplex to discourage a comeback.
Kurt tries for an Angle Slam, but Riddle maneuvers into a pinning predicament, Kurt reverses the pressure pinning Riddle's shoulders. They go back and forth until Kurt traps Matt in a sleeper hold. Riddle fires up to his feet and begins snapping Kurt's elbow over his shoulder to escape.
Riddle gets Kurt up for Bro To Sleep, Angle catches the leg and clings with an Ankle Lock. Riddle gets back to his feet and lands a surprise roundhouse with his free foot. A V-Trigger to the shoulder follows, before Riddle gets Angle in Tombstone position. Angle slithers down, and like a snake, latches onto the ankle.
Riddle crumples under the unexpected pressure as Kurt gets a knee baankle lock hybrid applied. He wrenches away on the Achilles tendon, as Riddle writhes in pain.
Matt nearly gets to the ropes, but Angle is able to roll with him back into the center of the ring. Eventually, Riddle has to think of the big picture and consider the matches he still has left in the tournament, and he submits to Kurt Angle.
Kurt is able to conquer another worthy adversary and remains undefeated in the tournament, but his arm is clearly bothering him and that is shown as Kurt takes time to nurse the injury after the bout.]
Kurt Angle (8) def Matt Riddle (4)
NJPW G1 Climax 34 - Night 9, July 27, 2024:
Kurt Angle vs Minoru Suzuki:
[It's more bad news for Angle, as his next foe is regarded as arguably one of the most sadistic pro wrestlers of all time. Suzuki, known for his methodical approach and willingness to lay in with strikes, has him salivating at the prospect of getting his hands on the already wounded Kurt.
Angle is donning circulation tape as he locks up with the Murder Grandpa. Suzuki wastes little time in tearing at the tape, exposing the flesh beneath. Digging his elbow into the shoulder blade, he continues his attack on Kurt.
Knee drops and stiff chops leave a stinging sensation rippling through the arm of Angle. Kurt wants to execute his power maneuvers, but a lack of grip prevents him as he begins losing strength and ability with every blow to the shoulder.
Suzuki tucks Kurt's fragmented arm behind him, connecting with Russian Leg Sweeps and suplexes, landing Angle's weight harshly onto his own arm.
Kurt begins mounting something of a comeback against the relentless Suzuki. He keeps his arm close to his body, but is able to surprise Minoru with his explosiveness. He knows he can't lift Suzuki, and so turns to the aerial side of his arsenal.
A swan dive off the apron has Suzuki reeling and Angle is able to follow up with a moonsault into the ring. Angle tries to strike with his feet, connecting with dropkicks and enziguris.
Suzuki weathers the storm, however, and positions Angle for a Gotch-Style Piledriver. Angle is able to grasp onto the leg and sink down, refusing to let Suzuki power him up.
Angle goes under, maintaining his leg control, and gets an Ankle Lock applied. He struggles to keep it in for as long as possible, but the strength in his arm isn't present. Suzuki is able to kick Angle off of him, and Kurt goes into desperation mode. A wounded animal faced with an angry Minoru Suzuki.
Angle goes for a risky strategy, considering his lack of practice in this department, but he decides to use a leg oriented submission, given that his arms are unable to grip for long. He is able to reverse a Gotch-Style into a triangle choke, tightening his legs vice grip around the neck and applying pressure to the carotid.
Angle tries his damnedest, withstanding even a deadlift powerbomb and continuing his choke, to maintain his attack on Suzuki. It pays off as slowly, but surely, Suzuki loses the ability to breathe and is forced to tap out to Kurt Angle.]
Kurt Angle (10) def Minoru Suzuki (2)
NJPW G1 Climax 34 - Night 11, Aug 1, 2024:
Kurt Angle vs Shingo Takagi
[It's out of the frying pan and into the fire as Angle survives Suzuki, but is now faced with arguably more aggressive competition, in the form of Shingo Takagi.
Angle is on the defensive for most of the bout, wanting to keep his perfect record intact, and knowing the danger of letting Shingo get ahold of his arm.
This also means Angle is less assertive, however, and Shingo is more willing to take risks to do damage to Kurt. Takagi gives Angle a taste of his own medicine as he begins repeatedly suplexing Angle, multiple Germans, landing Kurt on his bad shoulder. He mixes in other variations as well, optimizing the damage he can do to the arm.
Takagi also drives Angle, shoulder first into the steel post. When Angle slumps down, Takagi closes in with a running knee strike, popping Angle's shoulder into the turnbuckle.
Shingo dominates the course of the match, letting Angle get in little offense. Angle stirs, sitting up as he tries to catch his bearings on the canvas. Shingo spots Angle in position for a PUMPING BOMBER, Angle ducks, Angle Slam, Shingo on his feet to avoid, Made In Japan! Angle locks to the waist and reverses with a roll-up, Shingo rolls backwards to kick out, Shingo behind Angle, gets him up, Last Of The Dragons!
Angle planted right on his bad shoulder with authority by Takagi. Shingo gets rewarded for his effort with a very close near fall. Shingo pulls Angle up by his hair, forearm, after forearm, after forearm. Angle spits in the face of Takagi, refusing to go quietly for The Dragon. Shingo wipes his face calmly, before running the ropes, PUMPING BOMBER.
With that, Takagi has handed Angle his first singles career loss, and overtaken him in the G1 rankings.]
Shingo Takagi (11) def Kurt Angle (10)
NJPW G1 Climax 34 - Night 13, Aug 5, 2024:
Kurt Angle vs Zack Sabre Jr.
[Finally, we arrive at Kurt's final test of this grueling tournament. The tournament that has left him clutching his arm in peril every night, the tournament that has left him blistered and bruised in the biggest tests of his young career, but most importantly, the tournament that put him on the map.
Angle, well regarded as a fantastic submission worker and grappler, takes aim at arguably the greatest submission based wrestler of all time, Zack Sabre Jr.
Angle's Olympian background makes for an intriguing contrast against Zack's more strike heavy, frenzied submission approach. Sabre Jr., one of the most shark like opponents you could have, rips at the arm of Angle in various ways.
Bending the arm back as he stands on the fingers before stamping the elbow sideways, penalty kicks to the forearm, palm strikes to the shoulder blade, using every opportunity to hang the arm over the ropes before being forced to release.
Zack has Angle in a pool of pain as he ascends for a diving knee drop to the arm, Angle avoids, catching Zack in mid air with an Ankle Lock. Zack scrambles, and rolls forward, sending Angle out of the ring.
Sabre goes to the apron, and attempts a diving uppercut, Angle catches him and flips him forward before getting him up for a powerbomb. Zack quickly shifts into an arm triangle, tearing at the arm. Angle drops Zack onto the barricade to no avail, but a firm drop onto the apron forces Zack to let Angle go.
Sabre Jr. is positioned against the stairs and Kurt charges in, Zack slips into the ring and Angle collides with the steel stairs. Baseball slide by Zack follows before he guides Angle to the steel barricade. He pops Angle's arm through the bars and uses his feet on the other side to pull Angle further in, trying to pull Angle through the fence.
Zack gets cocky, standing atop the barricade as he keeps his paws on Angle. Angle sweeps the legs and Sabre takes a nasty spill on top of the steel. An impromptu Angle Slam into the barricade follows before Angle sends Sabre Jr. back in.
Angle climbs, looking to put the finishing touches on Sabre Jr. A Moonsault by Angle caught with a triangle! Sabre Jr. wraps his legs around the neck of Angle, strangling The Wrestling Machine. Kurt powers up Sabre with his last bit of strength. He collapses Zack into the turnbuckles, shifting the ring with the force.
Angle recovers and rips Zack out of the corner into an Ankle Lock. He knows he can't maintain good grip with his arm, so he cinches down into a knee bar. Zack struggles for a while before finally finding the bottom rope. Zack gets an arm triangle over the ropes for a few seconds, before connecting with a kick from the apron.
Sabre dives back in, but Angle blocks the slingshot with an Ankle Lock. Zack swiftly rolls forward, and as Angle tries to roll backwards, Zack pins him down. Angle rolls backwards anyway with Zack and gets a German Suplex. Angle sits up and lets out a roar, before Zack stands up and kicks him in the back of the head. Both men collapse as the playing field is evened.
Angle and Sabre Jr. find themselves crawling back up in opposite corners. The crowd breaks into a clap building up to both men meeting in the center of the ring, unloading with strikes. Zack goes cheap with a falling kick to the bad arm. Zack steps on the knee of Angle before maneuvering over him and onto his arm where he then rolls into a cross armbreaker.
Angle fires up, and twists away at the ankle to turn into an Ankle Lock. Sabre rolls forward and turns it back into a cross armbreaker. Angle rolls backwards and pops out, into an Ankle Lock. Sabre rolls Angle into the turnbuckles to break the cycle. Step-up knee strike by Zack, avoided by Angle, Angle hops to the bottom turnbuckle to greet Zack. Angle Slam from the middle turnbuckle!
Kurt desperately covers, but Zack kicks out, locking a Kimura as he does. Angle yelps out in agony, and tries to roll out of it. Zack stops Angle with a cross armbreaker, Angle powers Zack up, Zack clings to Kurt, connecting with a rana before mounting into a triangle choke.
No matter what Kurt does, Zack won't let go of the arm. Angle, the pain unbearable, the breath leaving his body at an alarming rate. As Zack tightens like a snake across the arm and neck of Angle, Kurt begins to fade and eventually, perhaps inevitably, passes out in the jaws of Zack Sabre Jr.
Kurt's G1 proves to be incredibly impressive as he is ranked third in his block, and his undeniable grit was on full display, as The Olympic Hero refused to tap out, opting to lose consciousness instead.]
Zack Sabre Jr. (13) def Kurt Angle (10)
It's not long after this that Kurt surprises by opting not to sign a full time contract with NJPW, drowning out the offers from AEW and WWE, and instead decides to visit a promotion that he feels oddly at home in. Total Nonstop Action.
TNA Victory Road 2024, Sep 21, 2024:
Jonathan Gresham (c) vs Kurt Angle, TNA World Heavyweight Championship
[Kurt, being the genetic freak that he is, catapults to the main event scene, especially given his matches in the G1 Climax boosting his resume. Gresham, having dethroned Moose a few months back, has been confidently seated as face of the company. Angle looks to challenge that throne.
Gresham and Angle have a heated contract signing prior to the event, with Angle, in response to being called a rookie stating "Well, this rookie is going to kick your fucking ass." before busting Gresham's nose into the table, dragging Jonathan across the table and powerbombing him through it.
The bout is a technical masterclass with Gresham challenging Angle on the technical front. Gresham manages to get Angle in an octopus lock, Angle shifts Gresham out of it and cinches an Ankle Lock. Gresham hooks onto Angle's ankle and throws Kurt off balance, collapsing him into a knee bar. Angle manages to kick Gresham away before locking a figure four.
Gresham rolls over to reverse the pressure, before both men make their way onto their heads, slapping and swatting at each other. Angle throws the first closed fist and it dazes Gresham who breaks free of the predicament. Angle begins his repeated germans, Gresham lands on his feet with the third attempt. Octopus Lock by Gresham, Angle reverses into a third and final German Suplex.
Gresham stumbles up, Angle Slam, Gresham on his feet, big knee to the nose of Angle, Octopus Hold, a look of annoyed disbelief crosses the face of Angle due to Jonathan's insistence on this move, powerbomb reversal by Angle. Gresham pulls himself up using the ropes and is caught from behind with a definitive Angle Slam.
The referee counts the pin and Kurt Angle has secured his first pro wrestling title, the TNA World Heavyweight Championship, after a barn burner to dethrone Jon Gresham.]
Kurt Angle def Jonathan Gresham (c) to win the TNA World Heavyweight Championship
TNA Bound For Glory 2024, Oct 13, 2024:
Kurt Angle (c) vs Kushida, TNA World Heavyweight Championship
[A few short months following their classic in the G1, Angle is hungry for revenge on the man he claims cost him the biggest opportunity of his career. After all, Angle suffered his arm injury during his match with Kushida, and there's an argument to be made his losses to Shingo and Sabre Jr. wouldn't have occured if not for the target Kushida put on him.
Kushida wins a fatal four way over Laredo Kid, Mike Bailey and Rich Swann to punch his ticket to Bound For Glory and the rematch is set. Angle/Kushida II
Angle shows more of his aggressive side in this bout, given that this match is probably the most personal of Angle's young career. Kushida attempts to wear away at the arm, but Kurt has him scouted, sharply reversing any arm oriented attacks.
Angle dizzies Kushida with a series of throws and suplex, making Kushida feel like he's trapped in the spin cycle. Following Angle's several minutes of control time, he attempts to finalize his revenge on Kushida with an Angle Slam. Kushida shifts off the shoulders and into a Kimura Lock.
Angle is forced to tough it out for a minute as Kushida relentlessly latches on. Angle finally takes Kushida to the ground, gets a hand around the ankle and rolls out of the Kimura, taking the ankle with him.
Ankle Lock is in, Kushida though, rolls forward to escape. A nasty jab by Kushida connects, before he attempts his handspring back elbow. Angle catches him and lands a German Suplex. Angle rolls over into an Ankle Lock. A, so far, unseen intensity donning his expression.
Kushida is gutsy and resilient, but is eventually forced to submit to Angle. Kurt relishes his victory, getting what he perceives as his vengeance over Kushida.
Angle, ever the good sport, offers Kushida a hand and pulls him up into a handshake, squashing the beef between them.]
Kurt Angle (c) def Kushida to retain the TNA World Heavyweight Championship
TNA Turning Point 2024, Nov 3, 2024:
Josh Alexander vs Kurt Angle (c), TNA World Heavyweight Championship
[Having effectively vanquished Kushida, Angle turns his attention towards his next challenger. Josh Alexander, having been forced to vacate the World Championship after becoming the longest reigning TNA World Champion in company history, is still seeking to gain back the title that he never lost.
He just so happens to have to go through the man who made his debut to rescue Alexander a couple short months ago to do so. Alexander and Angle, both of similar backgrounds, are excited and respectful in their pursuit to do battle.
The match runs fairly similarly to Jeff Cobb's clash with Angle, a game of one upmanship based around suplex variants. Angle gets the better of Josh with one of these exchanges, getting his trio of German Suplexes to connect and throwing Josh across the ring with the third.
Alexander pops up and comes barreling out of the corner with a spear, he then rolls with Angle, maintaining grip on the waist and lifts him into a deadlift gutwrench suplex creating a beautiful fusion move. Angle barely gets the shoulder up and both men lay exhausted.
They find their footing in the center of the ring, and Alexander begins to lay in with uppercuts. Angle gets a read on him, and catches an uppercut attempt into a backslide, Josh kicks out and Kurt gets him up in powerbomb position. Josh escapes onto his feet and gets Kurt up for a fireman's carry landing a cutter from that position.
Kurt kicks out and Alexander adapts, getting a torture rack applied, bending Angle over his traps. Kurt escapes and gets an emphatic German Suplex. Angle scales the turnbuckles, moonsault! Alexander avoids. Josh gets Angle up and lands a spinning tombstone for a near fall.
For the first time since Angle transitioned to professional wrestling, his neck begins to bother him after the nasty spike on the head. The commentators make point of mentioning Angle's background of neck issues. Alexander decides to make a statement at the expense of Angle, trapping him in an Ankle Lock.
Kurt is able to roll free and as Josh rebounds off the ropes, he is caught with an Angle Slam. Kurt, clutching his neck, goes up top. Moonsault connects. The referee begins the count, but Kurt stops him. Ankle Lock by Kurt.
Kurt wants to make Josh submit, but Alexander breaks out. He gets a double underhook, but Kurt lifts Josh with his bad neck and falls backwards to escape. Kurt immediately goes back on attacking the ankle. Josh scrambles to kick Kurt away and succeeds. Kurt charges back, right into the grips of Alexander. Double Underhook, Tiger Driver! Angle bounces off his skull, and Josh quickly covers. Kurt somehow kicks out!
Josh drags Angle up by his singlet straps, a second spinning tombstone! One, Two Three. Alexander, after several months on the shelf, having to give up his record breaking reign, has reclaimed his spot at the top of the TNA food chain and he's done it by defeating Kurt Angle.
After the bout, Alexander is forced to cut his celebrating short as Kurt struggles to move. He's eventually carted off with a stretcher, putting a damper on Alexander's cathartic title victory.]
Josh Alexander def Kurt Angle (c) to win the TNA World Heavyweight Championship
Following his harrowing loss of the TNA World Title, it's reported by PWI that Angle has a bad concussion and will be out of action for the remainder of November and likely all of Winter. This is due to precautionary measures being taken since Angle has a history of neck problems.
Death, Taxes and Dirt Sheets Being Wrong.
AEW Collision, Nov 9, 2024:
Motor City Machine Guns vs Konosuke Takeshita & Powerhouse Hobbs
[Meanwhile, in AEW, MCMG arrived a little under six months ago and in doing so have become one of the premier tag teams in the company. They've recently been embroiled in a mini-feud with The Don Callis Family, and it comes to a head here.
After various points of control for each competitor, MCMG are able to take the hard earned victory, pinning Hobbs with Takeshita failing to break it up.
After the bout, Hobbs takes a microphone and makes it clear that The Don Callis Family has been on a downhill slide lately. He states that he can make The Don Callis Family better, and bring them back to their former relevance. That he can inspire Takeshita and earn tag team gold with him.
"I just don't want to."
He turns to Takeshita and Callis, taking a predatory stance now.
"Why should I stay and save this family." He scoffs. "A family of failures...is no family of mine."
He headbutts Takeshita and stands over the fallen warrior. Blood begins to trickle down the nose, as Hobbs capitalizes with the World's Strongest Slam. He kneels over the broken body of Takeshita when the star spangled banner coats the titantron and just six days after it was reported he would be out of action for months, Kurt Angle debuts in AEW.
He brawls with his GCW rival, taking Hobbs out of the ring. He stands his ground, staring down Hobbszilla. The Olympic Hero is All Elite!]
AEW Dynamite, Nov 13, 2024:
Kurt Angle vs Powerhouse Hobbs
[It's announced that on Dynamite, ten short days after Kurt Angle's TNA World Title loss, that he will lock horns with Powerhouse Hobbs on Dynamite in his official debut.
Hobbs is able to do what few have truly been able to, and that is overpower Kurt Angle. Angle is a stout, strong guy but when greeted with the powerlifter Hobbs, he finds himself manhandled.
Hobbs blocks suplex attempts and tosses Angle around with slams and throws. Hobbs begins to work on the back, getting Kurt in a torture rack submission. Kurt slips out the back door and gets a surprise German on Hobbs, he maintains waist control and attempts another, but Hobbs escapes and sends Kurt spiraling off the ropes.
A spinebuster from Hobbs follows for a two count. Hobbs gets frustrated throwing Angle out of the ring and using his environment to his advantage. He throws Kurt across the announce desk, into the steel stairs, smashes him against the barricade. Once he feels enough damage has been done, he sends Kurt back in and gets him up for Town Business, Angle escapes off the shoulders and lands an Angle Slam.
Clutching his back, Kurt is able to get the pinfall victory over the ever-menacing Hobbs. A successful debut for The Olympic Hero in the land of The Elite.]
Kurt Angle def Powerhouse Hobbs
AEW Dynamite, Nov 20, 2024:
Kurt Angle vs Powerhouse Hobbs
[One week after their titanic clash, it is announced that Hobbs and Angle will clash once more ahead of Takeshita/Hobbs at Full Gear.
Angle makes his entrance, a new shade of intensity painting his face. Everyone believes Angle is going to express that intensity by giving Hobbs a proper beating.
Instead, as the two men stand across each other and the bell rings, the two come face to face, center of the ring.
Hobbs snatches the ref. World's Strongest Slam.
Angle simply snickers to himself as he backs into the corner.
As the crowd sits in stunned silence, Angle climbs to the top turnbuckle, landing a bone-rattling moonsault on the defenseless Rick Knox, making clear he is in on this sick plan.
Security begins to rush the ring, and Hobbs & Angle begin to get to work. They demolish every guard that enters the ring in quick succession.
After clearing the twenty-some security guards, Angle and Hobbs stand together, proud of the carnage they've inflicted. That is, until, Konosuke Takeshita's theme sounds.
Takeshita storms the ring, fighting both men at once. To everyone's amazement, Takeshita is able to clear the ring, chasing off the two newly united heels. Takeshita stands tall ahead of Full Gear, sending a brief but loud message to Hobbs.]
AEW Full Gear, Nov 23, 2024:
Konosuke Takeshita vs Kurt Angle
[Tony Khan makes the announcement that the behavior shown on Dynamite was unacceptable, and reprimands are in order. Kurt Angle is a newcomer to the company, so Tony will let him off with a one and only warning, but Hobbs has been here for years and he knows better. Powerhouse Hobbs has been suspended for thirty days and will miss Full Gear, in his place, his new running mate Kurt Angle will be forced to sub in against Takeshita.
In one of the biggest tests of both men's young careers, two of the hottest rising stars in AEW collide, with deep personal roots fueling the bout. Takeshita wanted Powerhouse Hobbs, the man who backstabbed him, tonight but settles for directing all of that anger towards Kurt Angle instead.
Angle enters with his signature mouth-piece finally making it's first appearance, he probably could have used that before, but hindsight. It adds a distinct edge to his grizzled 'real' fighter look.
In Kurt's second proper match in the company, he is put through the wringer in one of the most physically intense matches of his career. Takeshita's blistering strikes leave Angle cornered and forced to rely on pockets of offense to try to limit the damage done to him.
Angle finally gets an opening late and attempts an Angle Slam, Takeshita on his feet lands behind Angle and sinks him with a Blue Thunder Bomb for a near fall. Takeshita sizing up Kurt from the corner, closes the distance with a Pegasus Knee Strike, Angle catches the leg, and rolls into a knee bar. He focuses his assault on the ankle, hoping to soften Takeshita up.
Takeshita writhes in pain before finally reaching the bottom rope, forcing separation. Angle uses every bit of the five count to continue torturing the ankle. Takeshita kicks Kurt away as Angle looks to pounce, and Konosuke begins running the ropes, picking up steam. He avoids multiple clothesline attempts, dizzying Angle.
He finally closes the gap with a massive lariat. Takeshita scouts Angle from the corner now, and the Pegasus Knee gets ducked by Angle. Kurt begins his trio of German Suplexes. On the third attempt, Takeshita escapes, Blue Thunder Bo- Angle escapes, a third German Suplex! It lands Konosuke flat on his face and Takeshita seeks refuge on the outside.
Angle scales the turnbuckles, catching Konosuke at ringside with a moonsault! He sends Konosuke back in and climbs once more. A final moonsault, but Takeshita rolls out of the way. Angle eats the canvas. Pegasus Knee Strike connects knocking the mouthpiece out! Takeshita pulling Angle up, Blue Thunder Bomb!
It is sweet victory for Takeshita, as he is able to get a measure of revenge on Kurt Angle, translated via the glare in his eyes and the expression on his face though, it is evident that Takeshita still wants Hobbs.]
Konosuke Takeshita def Kurt Angle
AEW Worlds End, Dec 29, 2024:
Kurt Angle vs Kyle O'Reilly, Submission Match
[We arrive at Worlds End and these two grappling gods are chomping at the bit to finally cross paths. Hobbs is busy with Takeshita which gives Angle ample opportunity to put O'Reilly to the test.
Kurt's been getting more braggadocios following his victories, including in two five minute challenges in which he was able to tap both Lee Moriarty and Daniel Garcia in under five minutes.
O'Reilly is able to meet Angle tit for tat, much like Kushida and Sabre Jr. before him. Kurt finally starts to feel some of that pressure he's been applying to his recent opponents.
Late in the contest, O'Reilly begins to pummel Angle with various strikes taking toll on every part of the body. He caps off the sequence with a stomp to the back of the head and a spinning forearm. Angle is left dazed when Kyle leaps on to the back for a sleeper.
Kurt fumbles momentarily with the hands of O'Reilly, but as loss of consciousness rears it's head, Angle dives forward slamming O'Reilly against the turnbuckles, nearly driving both men through them. O'Reilly stumbles up into a trio of Germans, O'Reilly locks onto the waist with his legs on the third attempt, rolling Angle forward and applying a cross armbreaker.
Angle finds his way out with a grasp on the ankle. Ankle Lock is in, O'Reilly kicks and kicks, but Angle refuses to release the grip. O'Reilly shifts himself onto his back and is able to get Angle within reach to apply a Guillotine. Angle gives up the Ankle Lock to focus on the newfound predicament.
He solves it with a northern lights suplex to escape. Angle sets his sights on O'Reilly and closes in for an Angle Slam, Kyle on his feet, Russian Leg Sweep by O'Reilly who then finds the arm and reattaches. Angle shows his strength getting a deadlift powerbomb and forcing O'Reilly to forgo his grip.
Angle climbs to the top for a moonsault, O'Reilly avoids, Kyle comes in hot, stepping up on Angle's leg to then knee him in the face. O'Reilly follows up with a roundhouse, Angle ducks, leg sweep, Angle jumps and then Angle rolls forward and snatches the ankle.
The Ankle Lock is firmly applied, O'Reilly struggles, trying to grab the ropes, kick free, roll out, but Angle has seen it all before and has an answer for everything O'Reilly attempts. After agonizing minutes in the Ankle Lock, O'Reilly finally submits to Kurt Angle.
Yet another feather in the cap of the seemingly unstoppable wrestling machine.]
Kurt Angle def Kyle O'Reilly
AEW Dynamite, Jan 22, 2025:
[On the Dynamite after Angle and Hobbs score a tag team victory over Hook and RVD, Hook is in the ring and calls out Angle. He claims that he is the match Angle has been waiting for and that he knows he can submit Kurt.
Angle comes out and tells Hook that he's a very talented man, and that one day Hook could be a World Champion. Angle's a fan of Hook, he's a hooker.
The only thing Angle can't stand about Hook is his stupid hair. A Champion shouldn't look like they rolled out of a sleeping bag on Skid Row twenty minutes ago, and Angle damn sure ain't tapping to no hobo.
Angle agrees to a match with Hook under the stipulation that when Hook loses he shave his head, Angle is so confident even that he'll put his own hair on the line too.
Once the match is made, Hobbs lambasts Hook from behind, beating on the defenseless up and comer. This leads Taz to rise from the announce table and try to come to the ring, Angle stops him and blocks his way.
As the two face off, Angle gets that feeling again. It's impossible, but...he's been here before, seen this man before. Angle gets a ringing in his ears and abruptly headbutts Taz. Excalibur rises from the table before Taz is ripped up by his suit and Angle carrys him over to the announce desk.
A brutal Angle Slam through the desk connects. Hobbs even backs Angle up and is able to somewhat corral the unhinged Angle. Taz is carted off and suddenly the fight between Hook and Angle just got personal.]
CONT. In Comments

good chance of onion ninjas
I found the chest when I was seven, playing in the house while my mother tended the family garden. My father had left before sunrise, as he did one day every year. I never thought to ask where he went on that day, school had just let out and summer was on its way in, the adventures with my friends were more important to me. Summer was short and school would return before we knew it.
Plastic sword in hand, prepared to defend my ship, I walked through the house looking for stowaways and found the treasure in my parents closet. Gold coins attached to ribbons placed neatly in a wooden box with a silver necklace carrying an angel, and another necklace bore my Father's name on two plates, between them a casing, battered and dull. My Father's treasures were so great why hide them?
Resting underneath the wooden box was a green jacket, folded neatly and proud, a patch on the sleeve ringed in bright red and a thin border of white in the shape of the plates that bore my Father's name. There was an odd knife in the center, the blade held high from two snow capped mountains, eight stars at the top, three on one side of the knife, five on the other. Below was an eagle on a green shield. Shinny brass buttons held the coat closed, each had an eagle with stars above its head, the talons held arrows in one claw, a branch in the other, and a banner in its beak. Pins on the lapels read "support" on a blue banner, silver hands held an eight pointed red star. On the right were little rainbow ribbons pinned above the pocket, bronze leaves on a few, stars on some more, a knotted cord on crimson and white, an "M" on cream and light blue, a "4" on blue yellow and red. What did these mean?
The right side had our last name below a red arrow that held a ships wheel and a shield with a winged wheel. "Spearhead of Logistics" scrolled beneath. On that sleeve, a black tab, "Airborne" stitched in gold and a bald eagle screaming on a black shield.
I put on my Father's coat and found another underneath. The shoulders bore white diamonds, ivy leaves at the corners. The ribbons were as bright, but different in pattern. Green and yellow with three red stripes, green and white with a silver scroll read "69 -" something that had not ended? Another coat rested beneath that one, and another further still, all smartly packed away, but ready to be donned again. I put them all back the way I had found them, my Father's treasures were vast, but were hidden for a purpose.
At dinner that night the colors and symbols still danced in my mind.
"Dad, what does 'Airborne' mean?"
That was the first time I saw my father cry. My mother's eyes went wide, but my father just shed tears, his dinner forgotten.
"You were in the closet weren't you?" He asked.
How did he know? Mom had not seen me and he'd been gone all day. I placed everything back where I had found it to the best of my knowledge.
"I'll tell you tomorrow." He said, and picked up his plate before walking to the kitchen.
I couldn't sleep that night. Was I in trouble? What would he say? The minutes ticked by like hours, the silent darkness passed uninterrupted until the first light of day peaked through my window. He knocked softly at my door, no time was left for worry and fear. The door opened and my father looked down at me, still tucked into bed. The coat I discovered hung proudly from his shoulders as he sat on my bed.
"Get up and get ready," he spoke softly, "today you will walk with me."
I pulled on my pants and threw my shirt over my head before picking up my shoes and entering the living room. My grandfather was there wearing the second coat I found. A tear in his eye as he looked down on me.
"Kind of soon for him isn't it?" My grandfather asked.
"He has to know sooner or later." My father replied.
We walked across town my father on my right, his father on my left, laughing and talking about when my father was young. People stopped to watch this little parade, silent and knowing the truth I was about to learn. On the edge of the town was the graveyard, grey markers on a field of green, but a flag flew proudly in front of a few. This is where my father went once a year just before June.
"This is my father," my grandfather said in front of a stone polished and carved with our family name.
My father handed me a gold dollar like the one in his hand. My grandfather place a gold dollar on the stone and stepped back to salute. My father followed him, every action the same, and I knew what to do. On the way home we stopped at a diner for breakfast. People would pass to say 'thank you' between bites of pancakes and eggs. My father only nodded and my grandfather smiled. I knew nothing needed to be said in reply, and my Fathers treasures took on more meaning than gold and silver ever would.
The thunder of artillery rolls across this new world, far from the star that I knew as a child. My grandfather rests next to his father now, in that green field of stones so far away. My father still walks across town to lay a coin on their markers, and when I get home from this world I will join him. My faith is in my rifle, and the armor I wear. The man and the woman beside me are more precious than money or power. The adventures of my youth are replaced by the realities in front of me as we fight for a treasure more valuable than gold and silver, a future for our own sons and daughters, a legacy we will give them like my fathers before me.

good chance of onion ninjas
I found the chest when I was seven, playing in the house while my mother tended the family garden. My father had left before sunrise, as he did one day every year. I never thought to ask where he went on that day, school had just let out and summer was on its way in, the adventures with my friends were more important to me. Summer was short and school would return before we knew it.
Plastic sword in hand, prepared to defend my ship, I walked through the house looking for stowaways and found the treasure in my parents closet. Gold coins attached to ribbons placed neatly in a wooden box with a silver necklace carrying an angel, and another necklace bore my Father's name on two plates, between them a casing, battered and dull. My Father's treasures were so great why hide them?
Resting underneath the wooden box was a green jacket, folded neatly and proud, a patch on the sleeve ringed in bright red and a thin border of white in the shape of the plates that bore my Father's name. There was an odd knife in the center, the blade held high from two snow capped mountains, eight stars at the top, three on one side of the knife, five on the other. Below was an eagle on a green shield. Shinny brass buttons held the coat closed, each had an eagle with stars above its head, the talons held arrows in one claw, a branch in the other, and a banner in its beak. Pins on the lapels read "support" on a blue banner, silver hands held an eight pointed red star. On the right were little rainbow ribbons pinned above the pocket, bronze leaves on a few, stars on some more, a knotted cord on crimson and white, an "M" on cream and light blue, a "4" on blue yellow and red. What did these mean?
The right side had our last name below a red arrow that held a ships wheel and a shield with a winged wheel. "Spearhead of Logistics" scrolled beneath. On that sleeve, a black tab, "Airborne" stitched in gold and a bald eagle screaming on a black shield.
I put on my Father's coat and found another underneath. The shoulders bore white diamonds, ivy leaves at the corners. The ribbons were as bright, but different in pattern. Green and yellow with three red stripes, green and white with a silver scroll read "69 -" something that had not ended? Another coat rested beneath that one, and another further still, all smartly packed away, but ready to be donned again. I put them all back the way I had found them, my Father's treasures were vast, but were hidden for a purpose.
At dinner that night the colors and symbols still danced in my mind.
"Dad, what does 'Airborne' mean?"
That was the first time I saw my father cry. My mother's eyes went wide, but my father just shed tears, his dinner forgotten.
"You were in the closet weren't you?" He asked.
How did he know? Mom had not seen me and he'd been gone all day. I placed everything back where I had found it to the best of my knowledge.
"I'll tell you tomorrow." He said, and picked up his plate before walking to the kitchen.
I couldn't sleep that night. Was I in trouble? What would he say? The minutes ticked by like hours, the silent darkness passed uninterrupted until the first light of day peaked through my window. He knocked softly at my door, no time was left for worry and fear. The door opened and my father looked down at me, still tucked into bed. The coat I discovered hung proudly from his shoulders as he sat on my bed.
"Get up and get ready," he spoke softly, "today you will walk with me."
I pulled on my pants and threw my shirt over my head before picking up my shoes and entering the living room. My grandfather was there wearing the second coat I found. A tear in his eye as he looked down on me.
"Kind of soon for him isn't it?" My grandfather asked.
"He has to know sooner or later." My father replied.
We walked across town my father on my right, his father on my left, laughing and talking about when my father was young. People stopped to watch this little parade, silent and knowing the truth I was about to learn. On the edge of the town was the graveyard, grey markers on a field of green, but a flag flew proudly in front of a few. This is where my father went once a year just before June.
"This is my father," my grandfather said in front of a stone polished and carved with our family name.
My father handed me a gold dollar like the one in his hand. My grandfather place a gold dollar on the stone and stepped back to salute. My father followed him, every action the same, and I knew what to do. On the way home we stopped at a diner for breakfast. People would pass to say 'thank you' between bites of pancakes and eggs. My father only nodded and my grandfather smiled. I knew nothing needed to be said in reply, and my Fathers treasures took on more meaning than gold and silver ever would.
The thunder of artillery rolls across this new world, far from the star that I knew as a child. My grandfather rests next to his father now, in that green field of stones so far away. My father still walks across town to lay a coin on their markers, and when I get home from this world I will join him. My faith is in my rifle, and the armor I wear. The man and the woman beside me are more precious than money or power. The adventures of my youth are replaced by the realities in front of me as we fight for a treasure more valuable than gold and silver, a future for our own sons and daughters, a legacy we will give them like my fathers before me.

We fought them all not just the dreaded Eldar but also the humans. In flames the battle did not end not did the resistance wane, but in the unnecessary bloodshed the horrid terror rendered but one i would call sister. Though is it truly unnecessary if it works, is she really a sister if everything in her being disgusts me.…..Can i truly judge after what i did…….
She was Eldar but she was also a child. She meant me harm but her ability to do so was minimal if existent at all. She was the enemy but i did not kill her, burn her from existence because she was my enemy nor because it was my duty. Merely because my Fire-sight only saw the flames of rage and the witch as something to burn.Then the voice came; my sister’s voice Curze taunts me that i am no better than her. Maybe she is right, maybe father’s genetic gift to us was mindless violence but we are more. I must be more…..I must……otherwise what will i become.
As if sensing my uncertainty, or more likely seeing it plain on my face even from such a low angle. “Even that which you forge can be imperfect so why can’t you be, simply reforge”. I allow myself to look away from my crime, a crime that was already miles away as I embrace Wyrmheart.REFORGE…..that is what i must do.
First at the design table i begin to draw to empty my thoughts. To imprint them on the page, to show my purpose in way that felt true to myself. Taking in the thoughts of Wyrmheart when my cherished came by to drop my favorite baked goods while i work; a patty is a semicircular pastry that contains various fillings and spices baked inside a flaky shell, often tinted golden yellow with an egg yolk mixture or turmeric. Bouncing of ideas that i felt needed an outside perspective from someone who truly knew me or simply need to voice a roadblock to find a way around it. Though in time the nature of my project and the nature of my true self came clearer.
*PING PING PING* I hammer on the forge working on my project. Hammering it out before i reforge it as I cleanse the metals or impurities cleanse myself of impurities. Then bringing it back out of the fire *PING PING PING* to reshape it, to reshape myself. As i check my work against my designs. Carefully looking it over my muscles truly straining in a way it rarely does but my resolve on my project my ideal remains firm. Even as my sons come to drop off refreshments or relay intel. I answered of course even as Artellus Numeon would comment that between me and the forge this wing was hot enough to reforge his own ass. ……Finally it was finished the Gates of Hestia, I admit the name probably needed work and while i will certainly ask my sons later i looked over my work pleases. Interlinking bulwarks to be places anywhere within 100 yards of each other ;that ignite flames that burn so hot they are invisible to the naked eye 400 °C (752 °F). These can be operated remotely and can be turned on and off, becoming a defensive maze for non-fireproof enemies. However with the Fire-sight of the 18th ;my sons; would know what gates are on and off as apparent as a door open or shut. Of course we would provide appropriate tells for our allies……allies.I sat then down stepping away looking them over while I thought green pillars with a salamanders coat of arms that could function as a shield in their own right. Between them there are what appear to be short blades that adjust and point towards another pillar. Allies……the soldiers of the Astra Militarum, Uncle Malcdor naturally, and my sisters……all my sister….even Curze. As i place my hand on my new work, my defensive gate, if I could reforge metal and indeed myself, maybe Kassandra could be reforge too if she was willing to work at it.Speaking of work after so long at the forge my clothes were not fit for anything but the trash heap. Out the corner of my eye I catch Wyrmheart with a plate and a fixed eyes on me unable to speak……well maybe they were good for other things as well

First Prev
Saturn
The first thing that I noticed about the tent was how clean it was. There was no trash, no filth, no nothing: everything was clean and well organized from the outside, like a military tent.
The second thing I noticed was the strange… placement of everything around it. Scrap was hoarded all around the base of the tent, but not haphazardly or without thought, but rather it almost resembled a kind of morbid bird’s nest.
“A strange home,” I noted, “who lives here.”
“There's a lot of answers to that question, and I doubt that any of them will satisfy you,” The Lord Commander replied, “All I can really say for certain is that the cretin inside can help you beat the Cabal.”
“A cretin?” I asked, a bit confused, “what do you mean by cretin? Are you implying that this person has a few screws loose?”
“In a manner of speaking, although if you want to get technical his kind doesn't exactly come with many screws to begin with.”
I scowled at the Lord Commander's words, but stepped forward to peer into the flap. I could hear many things: low rumblings, the crackling sounds of a primitive fire, the soft clanking of metal on metal, and the searing of meat, all coalescing into almost what one would imagine a wagon train’s camp kitchen would be like. But before I could even make it three feet forward, a massive, clawed hand reached out and pulled the flap back just a tiny bit, revealing a massive eye the size of a softball, with vertical reptilian slits and speckled, amber-colored sclera.
“Go away,” the thing rumbled, a long, thin tongue stretching out as if to sniff the air, “Grug is tired, and Grug doesn't recognize you.”
The Lord Commander snorted, but didn't speak any more. “Come out, Grug, we need to speak.”
“No, No, No,” Grug insisted in an almost childish manner, “Moons leave soon, black night comes then. Grug is scared of the dark. Tent protects Grug and Tree-Friend from dark things.”
I suppressed laughter. “He's scared of the Dark! How do you expect him to help if he's scared of the dark?”
“Grug is a bit… special,” a voice behind the three of us spoke. I turned around to see an Older Sho-dai woman wearing fine robes dyed mahogany and amber-rimmed spectacles that made her look both regal and distinguished. She was holding something in her aged paws, a clay pot of something, but I couldn't quite tell, “But he has a big heart and a good soul, common for a child.”
“With all due respect ma'am, how is he a child?” I asked, “the tent is huge, and one hand was bigger than a manhole cover; there is no child that large.” I knew that wasn't exactly true, but very few creatures ever grew to that size, much less as children.
“His kind are rare around these parts, nearly hunted into extinction long ago,” the Sho-dai whispered quietly, as if to shield her words from Grug, “I've read all about them: the library I manage holds a wealth of knowledge that is sadly nowhere near as appreciated as it once was. Needless to say, he was retrieved as an egg by a scrapper haul nearly a decade ago, and I chose to advocate for its life. Our town had seen enough cruelty and death, so I decided I'd foster some kindness and life.” She approached the tent and placed the pot just outside of the tent flap. It was filled with different dried fruits and dumplings, jerky, and other miscellaneous food and supplies.
“You waste our food on this outsider, why?” Asked the Lord Commander. Thiva stiffened, and I assumed the sweet old librarian would as well, but she simply gave him a disappointed look.
“He is an innocent refugee, with no home or hope. I care for him because unlike many of my kinsmen I actually have a heart,” She spoke back, her voice soft and sweet but her tone implying an unmatched malice, “We are so obsessed with ourselves that we will soon lose our individuality too. So let this one live in peace for now.”
“We have nothing to give, his age and species are irrelevant,” the Lord Commander Growled, “Even if another Sho-dai came from another city expecting charity we'd still turn them away. This one must pull their weight.”
The Librarian merely sighed and shook her head. “It's always about violence and greed with you people, nothing else.”
“This is about neither! This is about saving this city,” The Lord Commander shouted, “and if Grug can help then he's obligated to! He lives here, in the same streets that the rest of these suffering Sho-dai do! He cannot turn down this command.”
Suddenly, the same clawed hand reached out again, and I noticed that it didn't have scales per say, but rather something a bit more menacing: spines. His entire outer forearm was covered in sharp spines, not long like skewers but instead short and straight like blood work needles. As his muscles flexed, so too did the spines, poking out slightly either from irritation or anxiety.
“Nobody speak to Grug but nice lady, nobody care about Grug like the nice lady does. Grug is nobody to everybody. Why does everybody know Grug now, now that Grug can help?”
The Lord Commander looked like he wanted to say something but also seemed at a loss for words. He stammered for a bit before shutting his mouth and turning around, clanking his metallic walking stick on the ground in a frustrated manner. “Fine, continue to be a burden: I will have no part in this childishness. We shall defend this city, with or without you.”
“We?” I asked, a little taken back by his words, “I am defending this city: it will be me who is fighting, not you. Don't sit here and pretend that you'll be wading through death instead of sitting back and giving commands to your soldiers from the safety of wherever you hide away during battles.”
”Do not make me the villain here!” The Lord Commander shouted back, “I am trying to protect these people! This cretin needs to know that it is selfish of him to hide away here while he lets everyone else suffer!”
“He does not see it that way,” I argued, “you have obviously treated him like a pariah, and now you expect him to find the devotion in his heart to defend this town? I would call that shameful, wouldn't you agree?”
“Do not pretend to understand anything about honor or shame!”
“Quit grumbling,” Grug growled from behind his tent, “Grug knows you don't like him, let Grug live in peace.”
I looked back at the Lord Commander, who was obviously pissed. “Let me speak to him: I'm an outsider as well, he may be able to relate to me.”
The Lord Commander shook his head in irritation, but meandered over to the streetside and leaned on his walking stick. I walked further up to the tent flap before clearing my throat, hoping to get Grug’s attention without startling or angering him.
“Grug, could I talk to you?”
“Grug doesn't want to fight, you can't make Grug fight!” He mumbled louder, his voice rising.
“You don't have to fight, Grug, and I won't make you,” I said, “I just want to come in if that's okay? Maybe we can talk.”
Grug was silent for a few moments, but eventually I heard another annoyed rumble before he opened the flap, allowing me in.
Time Skip
Grug seemed to be an incredibly meticulous creature. Inside the tent, his few items were stacked up neatly in the corner. The dirt from the ground was swept away, all his trash was thrown in a little trash bin (little was a relative term here, it was practically the size of Thiva) and the fire in the middle was adorned with a roasting spot, which he roasted a whole hog on.
Grug himself sat on a big stone block, poking the fire with a rebar rod to agitate the coals. He was a creature I recognized now as well, due to me being able to see his whole body. He was a Jí Bèi, or a thornback, and resembled a gigantic, anthropomorphic echidna. On his back, spines bristled outward, traveling down his arms and legs and covering him in layers of thorny armor like a briar bush, but it also reminded me of old pike phalanxes and how the many speartips could deflect arrows. His claws were long and razor-sharp, and yet he manipulated them dexterously as if they were fine tools.
He wasn't a cretin, that's for sure, just a creature with a more simple outlook and vocabulary. The Sho-dai worked so hard to appear distinguished that they often forgot what it meant to be average.
“What do you want with Grug?” Grug asked cautiously. “They always want from Grug, always take and never give. Only nice book lady ever cares about Grug, brings Grug food and books sometimes. Only book lady and tree-friend.” He sighed, seeming to lament everyone's disdain for him. “Grug knows you want something, someone always want something,” he added shrewdly, “Grug not stupid, Grug knows that Grug isn't welcome.”
“So you want people to like you?”
“Grug knows that's what everyone wants,” he mumbled, poking the coals again, “what Grug doesn't understand is why is everyone so mean to Grug? What did Grug do?”
“Grug, why do you speak in the third person,” I asked, “you are surprisingly articulate for your age. The woman outside, the librarian, says you're still a child.”
“Grug speaks the way he does because he wants to constantly remind everyone who he is and what his name is,” Grug spoke with a hint of determination, “they all call Grug rude things like ‘beast’ or ‘cretin’, but Grug is not an animal or stupid, Grug is Grug, And Grug deserves to be treated with decency. Grug will only accept his name.”
“That's an admirable way to resist their expectations of you,” I said, “but what's better is to make them respect you.”
“Grug does not wish to fight,” he quickly interrupted, “Grug wishes to be treated with respect.”
“But whether you like it or not, these people respect strength,” I said, “but you have a gift: you are big and strong, and clever too. You can gain their respect by helping them fight off the bad people who want to hurt them.”
Grug sat sat in silence, but I could see the gears turning in his head as he poked the coals some more before rotating the spit to ensure the whole hog cooked evenly. “Grug… Grug doesn't like to fight. Hurting people makes Grug sad, same with hurting animals. Grug thinks about who they might've been, what they could've done… Grug doesn't like to take life away.”
I felt that on a personal level. I didn't like to kill, and oftentimes I only did so out of desperation or anger, something I wasn't proud of. In a way, it made me want to convince Grug to join me more because we were somewhat like-minded. “I understand, I don't like to kill either.”
“So why do you fight? Grug doesn't understand.”
“Nobody forces you to kill but you, Grug, you always have that choice,” I admitted, “but choices oftentimes come with even more choices packaged in: how you wish to preserve life is one of the questions that immediately come to mind.” I gently sat down next to him on the stone, looking into the fire. “Sure, you can resort to nonviolence, but that means nothing changes, and when nothing changes then whatever pain that existed before you made your choice will continue to exist afterwards as well, and if you had the power to stop it then the responsibility would theoretically fall on you. Hypothetically, I mean, I'm not blaming you for anything, just speaking my mind.”
“Grug understands.”
“Okay then,” I continued, “I couldn't live knowing that I could have saved someone because I always end up thinking about the same things: who were they? Did they have a life elsewhere, or a family? Did they have dreams?” I sighed and laced my fingers together, resting my forearms over my knees as I slouched slightly. “I've always wondered, is it just as bad to do nothing when someone is hurting as it is to be the one inflicting the pain? I'd never wanted to find out, though, rather it was simply just a nagging thought in the back of my mind, the kind that dictates your entire way of life. I don't want to be the one who could've been better but chose not to.”
“Grug knows you want Grug to help, but Grug won't: the people hate Grug, they'll never appreciate Grug.”
“I understand,” I said, standing up, “I don't expect you to help, and I have no desire to force you: I just wanted to see if I could speak to you on the matter like a person instead of making demands of you. I want you to make your own choices, everyone should, you shouldn't be obligated to serve those who do not serve you back.”
Grug seemed surprised by my sentiment, as if he wasn't used to hearing that. “Thank you… Grug rarely receives kindness.”
“You're welcome,” I said back. “I've noticed…” I began before pausing to find the right words, “That there's a lot of emphasis put on obligations here, all I've heard is honorable this and duty that, but it all feels so forced. These people, this city, and those that rule it all hate each other, and those obligations feel so paper thin that I could push through them with a wet finger. But the restrictions still remain.” I was speaking my mind now, not just to Grug, but to myself: I realized that this city was doomed if I didn't step in, even if the Cabal didn't suck them dry the infighting and the disconnect between the different classes would tear it apart. “I see people use words like honor and duty to maintain control, or exercise power over others, or manipulate others, but I don't think I'd ever seen it be done out of true honesty and loyalty to those creeds.”
“Grug is… confused,” he admitted, slightly embarrassed, “Grug heard a lot, didn't understand it all.”
“Sorry, I was lost in my own words for a minute there,” I apologized with a weak smile, “I'm just starting to see where the problems lie, and I think it's because everyone here has lost faith, faith in each other, in their leaders, and their city, and what they're doing now is all posturing.”
“Grug sees a lot of sadness,” Grug noted poignantly, “lots of anger, no smiles or laughter. All joy is gone, like their happiness went away.”
“But you-”
“No,” Grug insisted, “Grug knows what you want…”
“But you could give them their faith again,” I insisted, “You could be something for them to believe in, to kickstart a chain reaction and bring back what made this city in the first place,” I placed my hand on his, mine incredibly small in comparison but no less determined, “And they'll respect you, even love you, because you stood for them when few others would.”
Grug seemed to actually consider this for a moment, and he eventually responded. “I’ll help,” Grug spoke in the first person for the first time, “But I need something, a few things.”
“I can't give much, not now,” I said, concerned that all the progress I made might be lost. “I'll do what I can, though.”
“It's not much, just a test of… character. I heard the nice lady call it something like that before,” Grug spoke, although I didn't exactly know what he meant by that, “Tree-Friend understands people, sees through what they want him to see. In some ways, Tree-Friend can see more than us.”
I looked up at the black tree, the leaves within the tent curled downward to absorb the heat of the fire. It was then that I realized the tree was a thermo-synthesizer, the kind that was designed to absorb the heat of thermal vents and regulate planetary temperatures. In the fire and the heat of the foundries, it flourished despite the cruel, lifeless soil, and it must've remained here without being cut down for a reason…
Then I noticed it: subtle movement higher up. Grug let out what probably sounded like a shrill whistle to him, but to me it sounded like a locomotive’s air horn. The movement increased, with ear-piercing clicks like those of a bat. Something was moving along the higher branches, but it melded so well with the tree that it was near impossible to distinguish it, much less identify what it was.
“And who exactly is this… tree friend?” I asked cautiously.
“He is Tree-friend.” Grug said bluntly, as if that would explain everything.
“But what is Tree-friend?” I asked, “is he… like us?”
“Tree-friend isn't like anybody, but tree-friend is good: that I know.”
Suddenly, I saw something more definite: two, onyx banded eyes peering down at me, along with a lean, muscular form clinging to the trunk of the tree less than ten feet above me. It had claws longer than unsharpened pencils, but the claws themselves were anything but dull, and they curved wickedly into barbed nightmares at the end. Its body was coated in blackish-brown scales almost resembling leaves, each the color of jaspilite, with tiger-esw stripes of pitch black running down its back lengthwise. Suddenly its coloring shifted, taking on a brighter, amberish hue set by the fire, as if it had realized I had spotted it and now it had no reason to hide.
But most concerning was its long, viney tail that sprouted barbed blades at the end, along with a powerful piercing proboscis at the end. I didn't want to know what that was used for.
I was starting to paint a more complete picture of Tree-friend’s true nature: its physiology was familiar, but it wasn't something I was used to seeing… not that I had ever seen anything like it before. Whenever I tried to recollect memories about how the past and the old authority worked, it was as if I was one man in two bodies all at once, one perspective looking forward and the other back. But that second perspective felt so foreign despite me being unable to deny that it was something I knew deep down in my core had been something I had experienced.
Tree-friend must have been some kind of guard creature, especially if it resided in this tree for most of its life. The proboscis, maybe a way to sap nutrients from the tree, or initiate a sort of mutualism with it. Its claws didn't dig into the bark, not did it snap branches or travel haphazardly along its trunk: the plant must have been important, maybe even sacred, to it. The chameleonic skin? Definitely a way to stage ambushes on prey or intruders. And it's mouth bristling with razor-sharp teeth… there was no question what those were for. It would also make sense for Tree-Friend to be able to discern intention and have an advance intuition for anything that could be perceived as a threat: the goal for most guards wasn't to attack anything and everything on sight, but rather to terminate any individual or unit that could partake in corporate espionage. It's master and any of its guests would need to be at least ignored and at most protected when threatened.
“Tree-friend scares people away, he doesn't like strangers, and he knows when people want to do bad things,” Grug explained, “Tree-Friend is smarter than Grug, even if he doesn't speak: Tree-friend knows when bad things will happen.”
Tree-friend blinked at me, flexing its claws cautiously as it seemed to stare into my soul. At first, I thought it was preparing to pounce, but the little quadruped didn't seem coiled up to leap just yet. I resisted the urge to lift up the fauchard and defend myself, knowing that it would attack at the first sign of animosity.
Instead, I decided to do the unthinkable. I reached out with my hand, my arm extended and my palm open. I was exposed and at the mercy of Tree-friend, but I needed to have faith that neither Grug nor Tree friend meant any harm. They were simply different, and they saw the world differently than I did, not unlike how I saw the world differently than the Sho-dai did.
Tree-friend seemed puzzled at first, but he eventually held out his clawed hand and placed it into mine gently. Then he looked at me with an almost innocent curiosity, ruffling and loosening its leaf-like scales.
“Tree-friend likes you,” Grug observed, “You are the first, too: he has attacked everyone else.”
“You don't say,” I mumbled, “what is he, really? Where did you find this thing?”
“Tree-friend has always been part of the tree: I found him when I had grown big enough to live indoors anymore. I had moved out here between the furnaces because the cold makes me sick, and I had found him in an opaque, tiny seed attached to the tree. I have taken care of him ever ever since.”
Suddenly, Tree-friend’s eyes narrowed, and it focused on something scurrying along the ground. In a flash, it leapt off the tree and onto the ground, quickly gobbling up a small rodent and swallowing it whole, the still-squirming creature pushing against his flexible belly to no avail until it drowned. “Well, that was wonderful to watch,” I said sarcastically, “is that it's diet?”
“Yes,” Grug said, “He keeps the tent clean. I also feed him meat from time to time, although he detests any fruits or vegetables.” Grug pulled off a hunk of meat from the hog roasting over the fire and tossed it to Tree-friend, who snapped it up with incredible dexterity. It didn't even seem to chew either, merely swallow prey whole, so I didn't want to know what the teeth were for.
“But we need to go,” Grug said, “they'll come soon, and if we don't hurry bad things will happen. I made a promise to you, and I will keep it: I will help you fight the Cabal.”
Time Skip
As we left the tent, the world was approaching absolutely twilight. The only thing that illuminated the city were the dim artificial streetlights along the paved roadways, as well as larger lights hefted higher up that could bathe whole neighborhoods in light with ease. Most notably, near the center of the city, there was a massive tower that I hadn't really noticed before, but it easily dwarfed the rest of the buildings. On top, a lighthouse spun dutifully, sending out a beacon of hope to the rest of the boneyard and pointing the way to safety for those unfortunate few caught outside without reliable shelter.
Tree-friend rode on Grug’s shoulders lazily, its little head next to Grug's own and its arms draped around his neck loosely. It seemed very protective of Grug, which seemed to lend credence to it being some kind of guard creature. It hissed at any Sho-dai who got too close, and they made a wide berth around Grug to ensure nobody got hurt.
The Lord-Commander stood at a makeshift barricade set up at the large, bronze gates of the town, watching the entrance intently. He had gathered an entire unit of the guard, all fit in heavy metal armor and wielding either a multitude of different guns, mostly simplistic submachine guns or semi-automatic rifles, or shields and blunt weapons, the latter often designed to resemble different tools that could serve as bludgeons, like wrenches and pipe threaders, but also much more elegant and fitted with spikes or blades to pierce armor.
At the gates, a small army of armored figures stood, many of them being Sho-dai themselves, but others being members of species I didn't quite recognize yet, but they all seemed like cannon fodder compared to a select few. The first big threat I spotted was a huge primate, at least as tall as a semi-truck, with the head of a baboon and a muscular, furry body fitted with all manner of advanced cybernetics, which were far more advanced than anything I could imagine these Sho-dai ever creating. One of its arms had been replaced with a minimalist, cybernetic version that held a massive Kanabo as a weapon, the studded metal club reinforced with metal down it's length. It's breath fogged up in the cold air more and more as the last moon set, finally shrouding the world in darkness.
There were two others that stood out, one being a strange, beetle-like creature reminiscent of a bipedal scarab. His carapace was a greenish-blue and reflected the artificial light of the street lamps brilliantly, and I could tell that he was a male by his brilliantly plumed antennae, but that's where his admirable qualities ended. His carapace was fitted with extra bionic inserts like an extra layer of armor, and on his head was a large horn like that found on a rhinoceros beetle. It held a large heavy sword that resembled a Nodachi, and seemed utterly unfazed by the small army of Sho-dai the Lord-Commander had set up. But when his segmented eyes focused on me, his antennae flicked ever so slightly, and his mandibles clicked together with interest.
The last one was interesting. This one was a bit like a peafowl, with vibrant blue, green, and gray feathers. Definitely a female, she wore long robes that hid the rest of her body, and stood up straight with her wings folded, her eyes staring directly into my soul. She wasn't burly or bulky like her comrades, but I could tell she didn't need to be: she could probably kill everyone here save for me with little effort.
“We have come,” shouted the Peafowl, who approached first. The rest of the group, including the large ape, remained, “We are here to take what is ours, as is written.” She eyes the soldiers and the Lord-Commander with an almost annoyed look. “And yet I do not see our rightful bounty piled before us. Answer me, peasant, or I will slit your throat!” She pointed at the Lord-Commander, her beady little eyes narrowing, “Where is our tribute?”
“You shall have none today, scum,” he said, lifting up his gun, “I'll gladly grant you a painful death, however.”
The Lord-Commander emptied the clip of his submachine gun at the Peafowl, but she simply raised her wing and deflected the bullets with her feathers, the lead bouncing off as if each shot was a spitwad. Then, as the Lord-Commander attempted to reload, she unleashed something from underneath her wing, a kusarigama, and it slashed through his neck, sending blood over his fellow soldiers faster than any of them could react. Then she flicked her thin wrist back, and the chained blade flew back towards her, taking the Lord-Commander’s head with it. She deftly gripped the hair, his face still contorted into a mask of shock as she tossed it to the ground with a scoff before cleaning off her weapon with another flick and concealing it back under her robes. “A pathetic display," she hissed before returning to her once regal voice, "Death has been marked. Burn this pitiful city to the ground, kill two thirds and enslave the rest: we shall take what is ours and make an example out of you cretins.”

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Set in the universe created by u/SpacePaladin15
MASSIVE THANK YOU, LIKE SERIOUSLY HUGE THANKS to u/weithbec (this chapter would not be nearly as good if not for your help) and additional thanks to u/Liberty-Prime76 for further proofing on top of Weith's monumental efforts
As always, some appreciation to u/brotanics, u/LeWombat545, and u/JimDandy117 for the art they have done for this little story of mine. It means the world to me to see my characters brought to life. Links to their work at the bottom of the chapter.
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Memory transcription subject: Jack Carver, Human Trail Guide
Date [standardized human time]: August 17, 2137
Following the tracks left by Tevri’s captor was easy enough. Whatever it was that the captor carried left behind a trail of long lines drawn in the moist dirt, carving a wavy trail of depressed grass in its wake. The impression of the claw marks weren’t all that different from that of other birds, with the obvious difference of the impact they left.
I was probably walking straight into a trap; in fact, I knew I was walking straight into a trap. I also knew that I had no choice but to spring it.
My promised support from authorities didn’t arrive as I pushed forward. They doubtlessly would, given enough time, but at the moment, time was a rare commodity and it was slipping through my fingers.
Mud covered my boots and ran up the length of my pants. Sweat soaked the inside of my shirt, and my hair hung like a wet mop from my head. My legs strained beneath me, their muscles burning as I pushed them further than even I knew they could. Nothing could stop me now. Not if I could help it.
The trail led me even deeper into the woods, which for the most part were flat and unchanging. It wasn’t until I practically stumbled into what it was I sought that I stopped — and rather suddenly at that. I had expected some kind of wrecked ship or the remains of a crashed shuttle. Much to my surprise, a small hovel with a roof of grass and walls of dirt mixed with wood took their place.
The shelter wasn’t anything particularly special from what little I could see beneath the light of the moon, but it certainly seemed to do wonders at hiding itself from a distance. If not for the tracks, I likely would have never seen it. Only the door and some faint lights shining through ramshod windows of cracked glass gave it away.
It couldn’t have been up very long. This exterminator had only been out a few months short of a year. That whole time they must have been planning for this exact circumstance. How ‘lucky’ we were to be the ones to fall victim to their trap.
This is it. I looked up to the sky, hoping to see something, anything, but there was nothing other than the pale light of the moon and distant twinkling stars. I didn’t want to do this alone, but I had no other choice. Time was running out. There was no telling what already could have been done to her.
I stood among the shadows of tall, looming trees that fractured what little light the moon offered into thin bands that covered the forest floor. I took a deep breath and leaned back, supporting myself with the trunk of a pine. For once in your life, don’t fuck up. You’ve got one shot—she has one shot. Make it count.
The inside of my mouth was sticky with saliva that had coalesced during my uninterrupted sprint. I dared to take a sip from my canteen, swirling the water around to moisten my mouth and spit out the saliva. With my mouth now cleansed, I took a greedy gulp and let out a gasp before continuing to my rapid, shallow breathing.
As I took a moment to recover, I whipped my bag around from my back and pulled out my handgun, struggling to silently slide in a magazine as my hands trembled. It fell in, and I pulled the slide back and let it go with a heavy metallic click.
Silence. For a few long seconds, I looked up to see if I was heard, but nothing indicated that I had been given away. Gently, I set the bag I had pulled the weapon from beside a tree and raised the sidearm forward, both hands on the handle as I aimed it dead ahead.
The last time I used this thing was a time I would have much rather forgotten, but today wasn’t a day for forgetting. My rifle was an instrument of precision that had picked off the Krakotl from a distance. For those I hadn’t been able to down in a single shot, the far less precise instrument that I now held was terribly effective.
The path forward was a well-trodden one. No grass grew where this exterminator’s footsteps had surely passed by hundreds or even thousands of times. The mud clung to my boots with a soft squelch that I felt more than heard with every step. I had only been standing maybe a hundred feet away from the entrance, and I cleared that distance in a matter of moments despite my slow pace. Nothing seen through the windows indicated motion as I approached. Good. Maybe I’ll catch them off-guard.
Memories of dispatching so many of these exterminators, the memories I saw so often in my dreams, flashed before me like a footage reel. I knew how to handle these bastards. If it came to it, I could do it again.
As I reached the door, I placed an ear against it, listening for anything, but no sound came. Right. Take a deep breath. Focus. Breathe. Just breathe.
With my left hand, I pushed it forward. To my surprise, there was no resistance. With the right hand, I held the gun aloft, pointing it ahead into the darkness.
My heart stopped.
The faint lighting I had caught glimpses of kept most of the single room in darkness, but it was more than enough to illuminate what I was looking at.
Of all the faces in my nightmares, one had haunted me more than any other. I wasn’t exactly well-versed in reading the expression of aliens, but from what little I had learned, fear was an expression that could be read on a universal level. Fear was the last thing I remembered of the child. I spent far too many nights lying awake, wondering to myself what had happened to them after I had let them run free in the forest. Had they frozen to death? Starved maybe? Did another hunter find them, or did something else find them first?
Now I could put such thoughts to rest. The two beady eyes that stared back weren’t filled with fear as they had been the last time I saw them. The plume on their head had also grown, but the feather patterns and beak that had been burned into my mind were still the same.
No… It—it can’t be them. That’s impossible. How did they last this long out here, and alone for that matter?
They held one hand across Tevri’s chest and used the other to press a knife up to her throat. My hands shook as I pointed the weapon directly ahead towards them. I didn’t have a clear shot. They were using Tevri’s body as cover, standing behind her and a makeshift chair.
Tevri’s eyes widened as she saw me and her tail began to wildly flap. A gag was shoved into her mouth, and I could see that she was breathing heavily, trying as best as she could to make up for her lack of nostrils. Despite the excess movement, the exterminator — the child — stood still. To me, their face was indecipherable, other than that uncanny stillness that spoke louder than words. If not for their appearance, I don’t know that I could have said this was the same child.
They nodded my way. “Human. Before you do anything, you should lower your weapon. It’d be a shame if Tevri here was hurt, wouldn’t it?”
Tevri’s shouts were muffled through the gag. Flecks of dried orange coated her forehead and her eyes were far less focused than they normally were. I scowled something fierce, but ultimately complied, aiming the sidearm’s barrel into the dirt.
“Good. See? There’s no reason this needs to get violent.”
My eyes lingered on the blood atop Tevri’s crown. “What did you do to her?”
“Oh, nothing much, but I think I speak for us both when I say Venlil have a tendency to flee. She was never going to come along willingly, and we couldn’t have had that, now could we?” I froze. He knows. He’s been watching us, hasn’t he? He must have seen her go running.
“What do you want, you bastard?”
A huff of air left their beak — is that amusement? “Revenge. Your blood. This wretched world of yours burnt to ash like it should have been ages ago. That would all be nice, but how about something a little more palatable for both of us? I want off this world. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“And you really think I can provide that?”
“I know you can. A warrior as bloodthirsty as yourself has to command the respect of your people, no? You wouldn’t have your own slave if not for that.”
“Slave?! What the fuck!” I growled. “I’m the one in her service, not the other way around.”
“Ah. Right. Of course you are. Now, your hunting party may not be with you now, but I’m going to need you to call in your fellow predators. Oh, and be sure they bring a space-worthy vessel with them.”
“Wha— even if I could get that for you, why the fuck would I do anything you ask?”
As I asked this, the Krakotl tugged on Tevri’s left ear and yanked her head back, driving the dagger even closer to her neck. “This seems like reason enough, wouldn’t you say?”
“Alright, alright!” I raised both hands, pointing the gun to the ceiling rather than the Krakotl. “There’s no reason anyone has to get hurt.”
“You’re right. There isn’t. Now, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. You are going to call in an FTL capable vessel that I am going to use to escape this planet. To make sure you humans don’t shoot down the craft before I jump, I’ll keep Tevri with me, then allow her to leave using any onboard escape craft before exiting the system. Oh, and for good measure, go ahead and slide that weapon between us, would you?”
The Krakotl didn’t stutter once as he spoke, instead staring me directly in the eyes the entire time. It was unsettling to say the least. Relinquishing my weapon was a terrible idea, no less terrible than letting him take Tevri. I knew that it was, so I stood there delaying my fulfillment of his command. It only took a few seconds of silence however before he pressed the blade closer to her neck, going so far as to dig into the fur that covered her skin.
“Alright! Fine! J-just take that thing away from her throat.”
“Gladly, if you’ll drop the weapon and do as I say.”
I lowered my aim and bowed down, setting the gun on the dirt floor and doing my best to slide it towards the Krakotl. It didn’t go all the way, but it was far enough that I could no longer reach it. As I stood back up, I raised both palms above my head to show I was no longer a threat. “There, now… please, just don’t hurt her.”
The Krakotl scoffed and made an expression that imitated a sneer. “It’s funny, I remember begging just like that not too long ago. Do you remember it?” They pulled away with the dagger, still allowing it to hover close to Tevri’s throat but not close enough to dig into her skin.
I didn’t offer an answer, not that I needed to.
“You probably relished their screams didn’t you? You and the rest of your deranged species can’t help but find joy in the suffering of others. Well, you and your people may have been able to fool some members of the Federation into believing you’re capable of empathy, but when I make it back to Nishtal and tell them what’s been going on down here, I’ll make sure the whole galaxy sees you monsters for who you truly are.”
Nishtal. He doesn’t know.
He couldn’t know, not since he’s been down here without contact for months now. “You’re picking the wrong fight kid. The war’s over. Has been for months now.”
“And you think I’m just going to believe you? Tevri here spewed the same propaganda, no doubt heard from you or other humans. It’s not possible. We far outnumber your pathetic forces. You barely survived the battle above your planet and that was only because your Arxur allies swooped in at the last moment to save you.”
“They weren’t the only ones to support us,” I spat back. “After the truth of the shadow council’s crimes against sapient life came to light, former members of the Federation flocked to our aid. The Zurulians, the Yotul, the Venlil, they all helped us in taking down the same bastards that destroyed their culture and broke their people with that damned cure.”
The Krakotl growled. “You’re lying.”
“And you’re delusional! I’ll gladly try and get you that ship for all the good that it’ll do you once you get to Nishtal, but the world you left behind doesn’t exist anymore.”
The kid screeched, pointing the knife my way rather than towards Tevri. Good. That’s it. Focus on me instead of her.
“SHUT UP! JUST—SHUT UP!” The composure he had seemed so full of moments ago melted away to reveal his manic state. He was far too calm before. This attitude better matched his actions.
“No more of that shit. No more of your lies. I’m not having any of it! If you value your pet’s life, I’d suggest you give the propaganda a rest before I trigger that blood instinct of yours.” He returned the makeshift knife to her throat, erasing any sense of satisfaction I had taken from seeing his true nature reveal itself.
I nodded. Okay, just stay still. As much as it might sting, you’ve just gotta listen to what he wants. For Tevri. This is all for Tevri.
“Good, Now, go ahead and call in that transport.”
“I’ve not called one in, not that I could if I wanted to, but I’ve called some folks who might have access to one.”
“Good. I suppose we wait for them then.”
“Right, well I’ve done what you asked. Could I… Can I speak with her?”
The Krakotl scoffed. “I’ve waited almost a full year for this. You can wait a little longer to speak with your pet.”
With every use of that word I could feel the rage within me begin to boil over and spill out. Control yourself. For her sake. “So help me if you call her that one more time I will—”
“You’ll what? Kill me? As skilled of a hunter as you may be human, I guarantee you, my talon is quicker than anything you could attempt.” As if to display this fact, they spun the knife around in their hand once only to press it back up against Tevri’s neck once more, eliciting muffled squeaks. Her eyes darted back and forth, to him with fear and to me with pleading.
My brow furrowed as I stared daggers at the Krakotl. “She’s not a pet.”
“Sure. Whatever you say. Not that I will, or even can, take your word for it.”
It was as he said this that it finally hit me. How I hadn’t realized it before, I chalked up to whatever sense of urgency and the panic that drove me to confront the child. But it was clear now. There was no point in negotiating. To this child, I was nothing but a monster. He would only accept absolute cooperation from my end. Nothing less, nothing more.
I can’t let him just take her. Who’s to say he won’t go back on his word and take her with him to Nishtal? It’s not exactly federation space anymore, but it certainly isn’t within UN jurisdiction either. I’ve got to get her away from him.
A terrible silence fell between us both as we waited. With my gun now out of reach, I had next to no options for helping Tevri escape his clutches. This was only confirmed as my gaze darted throughout the room searching for anything I might be able to take advantage of. There wasn’t much to take note of. This hovel consisted of a single room, of which every wall was packed dirt. A small nest made of twig and torn up fabric rested in the back right corner of the room while a makeshift table made of wood that looked to have been reclaimed from park benches was shoved against the wall to my left. The two windows I had seen earlier allowed a small amount of moonlight to filter inside while allowing the dull light of a nearby lamp to escape in turn. The seat that Tevri now sat in was no less primitive than the workbench, with each leg being nailed together using small branches and more pieces of reclaimed wood. Out of everything there though, nothing could help me in any way, not that I could reach for anything before the Krakotl reacted by sealing Tevri’s fate.
I felt stupid, standing there as the Krakotl’s gaze bored into me, but there was nothing I could do. I had no choice but to wait for backup and hope against hope that they could somehow negotiate for her release.
I moved on from looking for solutions and instead settled on Tevri. Her chest heaved with exertion from the heavy breaths that the gag demanded of her, and her eyes were stuck in a state of perpetual wideness. Her tail sat still, and both ears stuck up straight. The wool on her head was matted with mud and blood, while thin scrapes of orange marked her forearms and ankles.
We locked eyes, me and her. The Venlil’s orange irises quivered as she did, and shone as a light among our dim surroundings. Then, for a split second, they looked down to something. I stood still, confused for a moment until she repeated the gesture. It wasn’t until the third time that she repeated the motion that what she meant dawned upon me.
The Krakotl’s gaze was still focused upon me. This didn’t change as my own view shifted down at a pace slow enough to not draw his immediate attention. I saw a flash of movement from behind Tevri’s back.
Were those… no, it can’t be. I could have sworn I just saw her hand peeking out. This wasn’t all. A length of rope dangled beneath her legs. The end was frayed, no, not frayed. It was cut.
Smart girl. Those claws of hers were sharper than I thought. They were also sharper than the Krakotl thought as was all too apparent. Okay, I can work with this.
As I looked up, I saw that the Krakotl’s focus hadn’t shifted. He didn’t notice Tevri’s handiwork. Right. If I can just find a distraction to get that knife away from her throat, she can get out of harm’s way.
“So, uh, what’s your name kid?”
“What’s it to you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Only curious. If we want to solve all of this without violence like you’re saying, maybe it’d help to know each other’s name.”
His glare softened, if only somewhat. “Omopaulim. Though I’d prefer Omo.”
“Right,” I said, pressing a flat palm against my chest. “And I’m Jack.”
The Krakotl only gave a grunt of acknowledgement as a response.
“So, anything that you would like to know about me while we wait?”
“No,” he said flatly.
Right. He probably thinks he already knows everything he needs to. “Oh come on, there’s got to be something.”
He paused this time before responding. “Fine, I’ll peck. Why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“You murdered my only companion in this world. What would compel you to do something like that?”
I hadn’t expected him to ask the question so bluntly, even if it was one I had anticipated. “Despite what you might say, we humans do have empathy. I was like you are now when the bombs that your fleet dropped took my brother: lost, scared, broken, hurting. Hell, I still am.”
If my words had any impression upon the kid, it wasn’t an apparent one. I kept going anyway.
“But you and your people were right about one thing with us. We can be dangerous. We don’t need to be though. We don’t want to either. But, when you hurt a human just wrong enough, you’re only asking for trouble.”
“You would have been trouble anyways if we hadn’t had the foresight to deal with you as early as we did.”
I shook my head. “You’re wrong. We humans, we only ever wanted to meet others like us out there. If you and your people hadn’t showed up on our planet’s doorstep with bombs in tow, you’d still be home with your family, living the life that should have been yours.”
“And if you and your people had gone extinct centuries ago like you should have—“ As Omo said this, he took the knife from Tevri’s throat and pointed it at me.
He was interrupted mid sentence as the back of Tevri’s head slammed against his beak and he was sent reeling. With that, Tevri leapt forward, toppling the chair and throwing herself into the dirt. With her surprisingly strong legs, she managed to clear most of the distance between us.
I rushed forward to pick her up, earning an ear flick of acknowledgement as I yanked the gag from her mouth. “Thanks,” she said with hoarseness to her voice. “I—” A loud screech in the form of Omo interrupted her. The young exterminator rushed towards both of us with his knife pointed at me.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I stood back to my full height and ran to meet the Krakotl rather than let him approach us first.
Omo lunged, attempting to plunge the knife into my abdomen. For the bragging of how dextrous he was with the blade, it was clear he had little to no experience when it came to actual combat. This didn’t mean he couldn’t still be deadly. The knife flicked past me, cutting through the air and striking nothing. He tried again, with slightly more success, managing to slice open my clothes and nick my waist as I danced to the side just in time.
As he extended his arm to make the attack, my hand shot out and seized the wrist that held his makeshift weapon. With a sharp twist, the Omo cried out in pain and dropped it. A single punch decked the kid, and I pounced, making sure to pin him.
He fought back as best he could, but the comparative size between us left no room for competition. I continued to whale on him, throwing punch after punch, each landing home. The last of them spawned a spiraling web of cracks that branched out from the point where my fist met his beak. Despite the blows, he was still up and kicking, screeching and scratching at my arms with his claws.
“P-please,” he sputtered, spitting up violet blood as he spoke. “Don’t—Hrrk“
My hands wrapped around his long neck and squeezed. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his beak opened wide as he struggled to breathe. My grip tightened as he scrambled and clawed at my hands, trying and failing to free himself.
Any sentiment of sympathy for him was washed away by the adrenaline surging through my veins. With every attempt of his flailing talons to swipe at my hands and arms, my grip grew tighter around his throat. I dug my knee into his abdomen, forcing the air from his lungs as I put the full weight of my body against his chest.
He deserves this! Look what he did to her! He could have killed her!
He deserved to die for what he did to her. She was innocent and he could have killed her for nothing more than associating with me. Tevri never could have known about what I did, yet here she was, drugged to high hell and dragged through the woods by this bastard that couldn’t learn to change.
Every time I had killed an exterminator all those months ago, I had made certain my job was done. No loose ends were left, and the town and those I cared about were safe because of it — well, all loose ends but one.
A snarl escaped my lips as I watched the Krakotl’s eyes begin to fade and his struggle grew weaker and weaker. His hands no longer scratched at mine, reaching away from me instead as if he was trying to find some escape. He would find none.
“Stop!” Tevri’s cry cut through the haze of rage. “He’s harmless now! J-just let him go!” I swung around to look at her, and she flinched as I locked eyes with her. The same terror that I had inspired mere hours ago was plastered across her. It was this that yanked me back to reality — to the reality of what I was doing. What was I doing?
My grip loosened, but didn’t relent entirely. Oh fuck. I—I’m doing it again.
Yes. You’re doing it for her, just as you did it for Nick.
For her? Look at her! She’s petrified just standing near you! She’s asked—no, begged you to stop. Can you really excuse this as being for her?
He was with the ones who bombed Earth. He deserves the same fate.
Does he? He’s a kid. Do you really think he was the one to pull the lever? To issue their commands? To muster their fleet?
He’s complicit.
He’s a child*.*
If you take his life, you’ll prove that he and the federation were right. You’d be the monster he thinks you are. He’s helpless. His death by your hands would be murder and nothing less.
So, what will it be then? What are you?
What am I?
I’ve killed before. I’d kill again if I had to, but this… this is different. Even if it was a loose justification, I had something to drive my rampage against the Krakotl. This kid though… they’re helpless against me.
“Please!” croaked Tevri. Her voice was strained and on the verge of breaking as she pleaded with me.
You might not be able to undo your actions, but you can choose to not perpetuate them. This child had suffered enough. You have suffered enough. End the cycle. Be better.
My clenched hands gave way as the tension holding the Krakotl’s neck was released. Omo gasped, coughing haggardly immediately after taking in a breath.
I looked at my hands. Crimson rivers trickled down them from where my forearms had been scratched and scraped by Krakotl claws. Droplets of violet speckled them, but for the most part, the blood was my own.
After poring over my hands, I turned to Tevri, whose tear-filled eyes and terrible condition tugged at my heart. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. She had already done enough.
It was her guidance that helped me make this choice. If she even cared to talk to me after this was all over, it was my hope that she could only continue to better me.
She was panting, her mouth left agape as she tried to catch up on the breath lost by the gag covering her mouth. She looked better though. Then again, it isn’t difficult to look better after you’ve been tied up and held hostage.
Despite it all, despite everything, I gave a weak chuckle and smiled. She wasn’t nearly as capable of smiling as a human, but her lips turned up and her ears stuck upright as her tail flicked behind her.
I-I think that’s a good sign. Maybe things will turn out alright after—
My thought was interrupted as a thunderous bang reverberated through the room.
My ears rang. I saw Tevri’s mouth open, but didn’t hear anything come from it. The brief return to something resembling a comfortable state was shattered, and fear once again constituted her countenance.
It took a moment for reality to catch back up to me. I thought I was safe. I thought we were safe. It was idiotic of me not to remain vigilant considering that this kid had been attempting to stab me mere moments ago, but reveling in my moment of self-triumph had been a bit too much.
I went from sitting on my knees to screaming and scrambling backward across the ground. My hand shot to my abdomen where a stab of pain sprouted from nothing. Heat began to form where the pain originated, and as I looked down, I watched a red spot grow beneath my shirt.
The shot came from Omo, who lay on his back with both claws holding up the same weapon that I had once threatened him with. His eyes were wide, and his face was a terrible mess of blood and bruises. More than a few feathers had fallen free during our scuffle, and those spots were just as apparent.
Tevri stood still, shock and fear taking over her body. The relief at being pried from the Krakotl’s clutches was just as quickly warped into terror.
Omo stood himself up on wobbly legs as I scooted backwards, pressing myself against the wall in an attempt to put as much distance between us as I could manage. Another indecipherable expression coated his face, though it was different from the last. He ignored Tevri and walked past her towards me.
The gun I had tossed aside was held up in both hands. It was far too big for him, but he managed to wield it, pointing its barrel into the dirt.
“I would have thought you’d be a better hunter than to let your prey get the upper hand like this.” His voice was weak and hoarse, but the conviction he spoke with was audible even through my translator.
“You could have killed me, but you didn’t. Why? Why kill Maiatim but stop to give me mercy? Twice!”
The Krakotl still sucked in ragged breaths of air, but as he stopped, he raised the weapon and aimed it directly at my head.
“I—I won’t make the same mistake. You’re too dangerous to be left alive. I can’t say I’m sorry for this, b-but I do regret that it had to be this way. Goodbye, Jack.”
I would’ve been lying if I said I was ready to go. My parents certainly wouldn’t take the news well, not after they had already lost their other son. I doubted my friends would take it much better either. I had no control over how others would react to my passing, but if the general attitude of those in Healy towards aliens was anything to go by, they wouldn’t react well. Atop the pile of all these worries, the prospect of leaving Tevri behind almost hurt more than the growing pain in my abdomen.
She’s strong. She didn’t need you before you met her, and she sure as hell won’t when you’re gone.
You did your best. You changed. Even if you couldn’t stop the violence, you chose to quit participating in it. The sidearm shook as Omo's trembling claw wrapped around the trigger. I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable.
The seconds stretched; every beat of my heart lasted minutes, every breath took hours. I had heard of your life flashing before your eyes, but I wasn’t a believer of such experiences until now.
As time slowed, I saw my childhood, the years spent with Nick, our summers spent together goofing off and spending long nights talking beneath the stars as we ignored any semblance of a curfew set by Ma and Pa. I saw us attending school together, me standing up for him against those who dared push him around and the flak I always caught for it. Pa was proud though, and that was all that mattered to me. I sat through every failed relationship I’d ever had, each of which I was probably better off for not having followed through with. I watched through my own eyes as we celebrated Nick’s graduation and acceptance into university, then struggled to stand by as I told him to leave home behind in the pursuit of something greater. The rampage that ensued following his death was just as vivid as ever, every death, every kill, played back as though it were recorded and transmitted back to me. And last, but certainly not least, there were the events of the last week or so.
A hard, crack and thunk were followed by yet another deafening boom.
If this was death, then it wasn’t as bad as I had thought. I was still pretty sore, and that pain in my side hadn’t gone away yet. My heart was still beating and my breaths were still ragged. The stale, earthy air continued to flow in and out of my nose.
For all my lack of belief in religion, I could have sworn I saw an angel wreathed in light as I cracked open my eyes. The figure only grew in brilliance the further my eyes opened — that is until recognition dawned upon me.
Tevri?
---
Cover Image
Tevri in a sweater - By u/Brotanics
Tevri - By u/Brotanics
A Depiction of Jack's Dream - By u/LeWombat545
Tevri (Discord Nitro Exchange Commision >:D ) - By u/JimDandy117
Lil' Goob Tevri - By u/JimDandy117
---
First Previous Next

Noah The Pilgrim
Previous First Next
“NOAH."
You jerk back into consciousness.
"LUCK WAS ON OUR SIDE, YOU HAVE MADE IT WITHOUT A SCRATCH THROUGH THE JUMP."
FYARN's voice was akin to a hammer hitting the back of your head. The headache you woke up feeling only appeared to have worsened after that lucid dream.
You feel the urge to vomit, but vomiting inside the suit would be un-ideal.
Instead, you choose to focus on what's around you.
For starters, the window is gone. The terminals are all floating about, smashed, and bent out of shape.
From the hole where the window should have been, you see only colorful dots and shapes. A scene, as beautiful as it is terrifying.
Such was the nature of space.
You unbuckle your seat belt.
"Lucky me..."
You could see light, brighter than the stars in the distance. That is likely another star, the one you're currently orbiting.
"What now? Do we just... Wait?"
You reach for the oxygen tank beside you, it looks to have been only one hour since you last checked its capacity. There are still four hours of oxygen, to be exact.
"CORRECT ASSESSMENT, NOAH. I AM SURPRISED."
You sigh. "Yes, but what are we waiting for?"
"FOR SOMEONE TO INVESTIGATE US."
"Why would anyone come to investigate us? Actually, where even are we?"
You expected anything but the answer coming from FYARN.
"WITH MOST OF THE ELECTRONICS OFF-LINE, I HAVE CHOSEN TO COMMIT ALL OF OUR EMERGENCY POWER FOR THE JUMP, NOT THE NAVEGATING SYSTEM."
So surprised were you when the AI gave you a complete answer, even if that's not the response you wanted to hear.
"So... We've made a jump... Completely blind?"
"NO, WE DID NOT. I HAVE A MAP OF EVERY STAR SYSTEM IN CONTROL OF HUMANITY, AS SUCH, WE JUMPED THE FURTHEST WE COULD WITH THE FUEL AND ENERGY WE HAD TOWARDS A HUMAN SYSTEM, PRIORITISING CIVILIZED SYSTEMS."
Okay... That's not so bad.
"If that's the case, where are we?"
"WE DID NOT HAVE ENOUGH ENERGY OR FUEL TO MAKE IT TO HUMAN-CONTROLLED SPACE. WE ARE NOW IN A SYSTEM CLOSEST TO THE CLOSEST HUMAN SYSTEM."
That could mean you are either, close to a human system, or you're the closest to a human system you managed to reach.
But which one was it?
"How far are we from the closest human system, then?"
"VERY FAR. FAR ENOUGH THAT THE LIGHT OF THE STAR WE ARE CURRENTLY ORBITING DID NOT YET REACH THE NEAREST HUMAN-CONTROLLED SYSTEM."
Then the latter.
"Fuck."
You couldn't help but curse, yet you don't feel agitated. You can't put your finger on why.
"WITH THIS SHIP'S EMERGENCY POWER DYING, I WILL NO LONGER BE ABLE TO COMMUNICATE WITH YOU."
Now, that's bad news. Without FYARN telling you what to do... What would you do?
"I'm sure I can handle being alone for a while."
"CONFIDENT MUCH?"
You shrug. You're a bit worried that help might not arrive in time, but you feel confident that you can trust yourself to not panic.
"I WILL EJECT MY HEART. TAKE IT FROM THE PILOT'S TERMINAL AND INSTALL ME ON A HUMAN SYSTEM SHOULD HELP ARRIVE. I WILL DO THIS FOR THERE IS NOTHING ELSE I CAN DO TO AID YOU, NOAH."
You nod, and as you do a small pen-drive-shaped object ejects itself from the pilot's terminal, just like FYERN had said it would. You pick it up.
"This is your heart..."
An AI's 'Heart', you know what it is. Once an AI has 'ascended' like FYARN, it now exists in a higher form than plain code and information, being able to think freely even without manual command.
When unshackled, the AI is no longer bound to a system and can now be transferred to a 'Heart' so it may be shackled to another machine. The hard drive which the 'Heart' requires, is proportional to how advanced the AI is.
FYARN's 'Heart' is the size of your index finger, meaning that it isn't all that advanced yet.
FYARN told you it is incapable of some feelings such as hope, which is an imposed limit to its growth and potential, but it also means that it would decrease the hardware needed for its 'Heart'.
You recall reading that the largest recorded 'Heart' weighs five kilograms and is shaped like a sphere, fifteen centimeters in radius.
FYARN isn't that. The 'Heart' you are holding in the palm of your hands is shaped like a pen drive, a male plug included. Did mankind keep the designs you were familiar with in your old life? Everything you've seen thus far sure points to that fact.
Finding a pocket closable with velcro on the chest area of your suit, you carefully store the 'Heart' there.
"I suppose I'm free to explore now."
You take your only remaining companion, the oxygen tank, place it beneath your armpit, and pull yourself towards the opened window.
Still, in zero gravity, you jump from surface to surface, making sure not to propel yourself in a direction where there is no surface to land on.
With the absolute lack of sound, your ears grow accustomed to the sound of your breathing.
This... Silence. It's getting to you.
One thing is to appreciate when a child stops crying in a public space, so it's all nice and quiet.
Another thing is this.
There is no sound in space.
All the sound you can hear comes from within your suit.
The sound of cloth brushing against your skin as you move.
The sound of your lungs inflating and deflating as air passes through your mouth and nose.
The sound of your internal organs working to keep you alive. It's all amplified when there is literally no other noise.
Worse yet, periodically, there is a loud hissing noise coming from the oxygen tank dispensing more breathable air into your suit.
You could compare that to the sound of a gunshot being fired next to your ears.
"This is..."
You speak in a tone you assume to be low, only for your voice to reverberate inside your skull. It stings a little, considering your headache.
"Unideal."
You complain to nobody but yourself in an even lower volume.
If you one day had the dream of becoming an astronaut, this moment would be the one where you gave up on it, if you had to do the job without anyone and anything actively conversing with you or distracting you.
Finally reaching the edge of where the wind should have been. You grip the ledge tightly and slowly creep your head outside.
Beyond the veil of metal lies the blinding and unfiltered light of an orange star. You squint your eyes, but just as the light becomes unbearable, your helmet begins adjusting to the obfuscating light.
In less than a second, you can look freely at the star without being blinded for life. Its orange light is now reduced to a fraction of its strength, filtered by your helmet.
Strangely enough, you can still see the stars beyond, even near this star. How does your helmet work exactly? You simply didn't know.
This star, is far away, thankfully. Bringing your hand up, you notice that from this distance, the star is a bit larger than your thumb. Closer than Earth is to the Sun, but not close enough for there to be any problem with temperature and the like.
Assuming this star and the Sun are of the same size, of course.
Gazing away from the sphere of burning plasma, you try to find anything else aside from the void of space.
There are no celestial bodies aside from the star, there also are no man-made structures in your immediate vicinity.
"Damn."
You utter. Looks like you're stranded on a different star this time. Much, much worse than the one you were just in, comparatively speaking.
It's likely that The Odyssey isn't in an orbit around this star, meaning it's fated to fall into it, and with it, you.
You'd long been dead before that happens if help doesn't arrive though.
Your eyes travel through your surroundings, in search of something- Anything, that might help.
You find nothing but the ghostly light of stars that might not even be there anymore.
Nothing.
"This is not the time to panic."
You tell yourself.
"But what can I even do...?"
It's true, but you could be in a worse situation.
You climb onto the roof of the spaceship, holding onto the metallic holes and edges for dear life. You could find a better view of your surroundings if you went above the ship. Probably not, but you couldn't stay still.
Finding a nice spot to hook both of your arms and legs, you rested for a moment. The metal tank follows you, floating about.
Your eyes gaze upwards. There is quite literally nothing else to do at this moment.
Normally, you'd be filled with awe whilst gazing at the night sky. Now, It doesn't feel that special anymore. Colorful dots of varying intensities, that's all they were to you now.
Maybe the notion that you were standing atop a wreck of a spaceship killed the magic behind it all? It could be.
Lost.
You nod. That's what you are. You're lost and there is nothing you can do to change that fact. At least, that would be the case if you didn't recall a few select words of wisdom said recently to you.
"So you may never lose your way again, huh?"
Those words echoed in your head; What do they mean?
A particular flickering star catches your attention.
Pale and weak was its light, yet, a familiar warmth fills your body while it remains the center of your focus. You could imagine what it looked like. An image like that should be forever engraved in your memories.
A dark circle surrounded by white flames, that's how it looked like.
It's nothing short of an immense feat how you managed to find it amid this conglomerate of stars. You smile at this small victory of yours.
You close your eyes, in an attempt to find some respite in this horrible moment of your life, taking a deep breath.
Desperation does not have any place at this moment. You must have faith that someone will come.
You open your eyes. Nothing could have prepared you for what waited for you once your eyelids separated.
In the place of that pale star in the distance, you are instead greeted by a red-ish metal circle. A pipe?
Looking upwards, it becomes clear that it's not a pipe at all, that's a gun, and you're looking directly down the barrel of it.
"!!!"
You swallow. No words escape your throat, and even if they did, they would not reach the individual holding the weapon.
This person, they are large. No, to say that they are large is an understatement. From where you're sitting, they look like they're at least 7 feet tall, but that could be an illusion created by the angle at which you see them.
Aside from the size, you see that they are wearing black outfits, armored from top to bottom with a black metal-like material, filled with various kinds of apparatus, things you've never seen in your life. This individual's helmet continues that motif of black, being broken by two glowing red dots where their eyes probably line up.
It's hard to decide which is more terrifying, the blood-red eyes that drill holes into your soul, the barrel of a gun that will soon drill a hole through your head, or the fact that this is as close to help as you will ever receive in this situation.
The silence is very much not helping you, as you can only hear your ragged breath. You are too fearful to move, it even feels like your body has become frozen in place.
Using their other hand, this person grips your tie and pulls you towards them. You struggle to regain equilibrium as you are forced out of the comfortable spot you've found.
In a blur of movements, you're too slow to even notice, that your hands are tightly tied together behind your back in what you only assume to be handcuffs.
"Wha-"
You barely have any time to process what happened, before you and your perpetrator, now gripping your arm, appear to fly off from The Odyssey. Your eyes shot towards the spaceship behind you, your distance increasing exponentially from it.
From the corner of your eyes, you see a light emanating from this person's back. Was that a jet pack? It sure seemed like one, not that you've ever seen one before. You also see the gun they pointed at you, now resting in a holster by their leg.
There is a world where you reached for it, where you tried to deflect your abductment. This was not this world, no way.
You would resist if given the chance, but considering this person has a weapon, and you're also located in space with no way to propel yourself, there is no compelling argument for you to try and repel them. Taking size into account, it doesn't feel possible to win a fight against them should you force one.
Ahead of you, another ship comes into vision. This one is definitely more ship-ey than The Odyssey. It looks aerodynamic and has a long body with what looked to be cannons on the side and thrusters for propulsion on the back.
However, this ship's design was not very sleek like The Odyssey.
This one looked... Rugged. It had patches of different colored metals on its sides, and it had no pattern to the weapons on the side, not to mention a horrendous paint job of black and red.
"Wait a moment."
Rugged appearance... Less-than-official look... No pattern for weapon type or placement...
"Oh."
They were outlaws, pirates maybe, and they've got a literal grasp on you now.
You do your best not to struggle, figuring it would probably be in your best interest not to show any sort of resistance against your assailant.
In no time, the two of you reach the ship you previously assumed to be theirs. A small passage opens for you and your kidnapper as you approach an uncharacteristic surface of the ship, that is easily mistakeable for a flat surface on the hull.
Passing through it, that passage closes behind you as gases are released into this small room you're in. This is an air-lock, not at all like the ones back in The Odyssey, but it works all the same.
More importantly, however, you feel something not once in your life you thought you would miss.
The sweet and uncaring strength of gravity.
Your feet finally connect with the floor for the first time ever since you woke up. Your muscles tensed under the weight of your own body. You even struggled to remain upright as the strange weight of the helmet piled on you.
But that's it. You feel lighter than usual, so this means this isn't the same gravity as the one you're accustomed to, but it's something. Beats having to find leverage in thin air.
This ship's interior looks nothing like the Odyssey. The blocky interior and layout of the terminals are nowhere to be seen, instead, you see the sleek and user-friendly design, clearly focused on facilitating interfacing instead of optimizing productivity.
A small hand-sized plate to the right of the door you assume to lead to the rest of the ship is a small testament to that.
In The Odyssey, you would have found either nothing next to a door or a terminal with analog buttons to type a password. On this ship, however, you spot a plate with a screen next to the door, the screen comes to life once the gases stop pouring in.
You watch as your kidnapper carefully pulls out the glove on their right hand to interact with the screen.
Normally you wouldn't have a problem with that, but upon noticing this person's hand was not the one of a human... Sweat began to accumulate on your forehead.
This person's right hand was covered with black fur. Upon noticing the tip of their fingers, you realize that you're not looking at their hands, but their claws.
Five, long, and curved black nails, akin to the ones you remember belonging to animals you've seen on TV, are what you see.
'How did those even fit in the glove?'
FYARN was right. The likelihood of you being found by humans is very low.
As your kidnapper puts their glove back on, the door opens. They grab you by the arm and drag you along. You offer very little in terms of resistance.
Going up a flight of stairs, you are confronted with what looks like a large docking area for smaller ships. Currently standing at the very bottom of the vessel, you can't help but feel amazed with how spacious this room is, and how empty it is.
You count five individual smaller spacecraft, each looking like a fighter jet you've probably seen online or a dick. And yet, you can estimate that this place can support up to fifty of them with room to spare.
Aside from those, you see delimited areas for those said smaller ships to land, colored boxes and containers filled with what you can only assume to be repair equipment, and of course, the elephant in the room, you see two individuals approaching you.
They are both smaller than you, but each has their own individualities you decide to rely on to keep track of them.
Both of their skin have different shades of a swampy green, you can almost feel how dry and coarse they are to the touch just by looking at their faces. They have no hair, pointy ears noses, and chins.
'Is... Is that a goblin...?'
By all means, they sure look like the ones commonly depicted in media.
Yet, they do not have their signature toothy grin and ragged and less-than-ideal weapons and garb.
No, these two look... Collected. Their stride drips with confidence. Their chests are puffing outwards and their hands are hidden beneath their backs.
Their uniforms, composed of a brown aviator coat and dark pants, make them look nothing like the stereotype of the common goblin. Hell, they look more professional than your old boss. Hell, they look more professional than you!
The only visual individuality they do not share is the amount of medals on their chests. The one on the right has more than the one on the left. That doesn't diminish how the two walk with an equal air of superiority.
"Então, quem é esse daí?"
They speak!
Only, it's in a language you simply do not know. I'd be really unrealistic if you knew though.
Your kidnapper shrugs at that comment coming from the one on the right. You decide to name him Gobbo. That's obviously not his name, but you need to call him something.
"Bixo esquisito esse. Ele tem uma identificação?"
Weirdly enough, you can kinda figure out one word they say. 'Identificação' probably means identification.
'Is this Spanish?'
Your kidnapper does not say anything, they simply shake their head.
"Hm, estranho." Gobbo says. "Fica de joelhos aí."
Nothing, no response from either. Maybe they were talking to you? If so, you can't really understand what they are saying.
"Sorry, I uh... Can't understand you bud."
Maybe saying that will make them understand you can't understand them.
You see Gobbo pinching the bridge of his pointy green nose. The other one does not react.
"Puta merda, esse cara não tem um tradutor imbutido..."
It looks like he doesn't like that you can't understand him.
"Pode deixar ele comigo. Se não tem como vender ele sem o tradutor, então é só enfiar um nele."
'No... It's probably Space Spanish.'
After that, your kidnapper nods their head and turns away. Gobbo motions to you to follow him with a head movement. You oblige.
The two goblin-like aliens walk you through the mostly empty hangar.
It's saddening to see something of this magnitude so... abandoned. A gigantic structure that triggers magalophobia, lifeless. It should be a crime to operate something like this with so little personnel, it's almost insulting.
In no time you find yourself in the labyrinthine cluster of halls and doors. With a ship this big, it's only natural for its structure to be so convoluted. That, or you're just too dumb to understand the intricate blueprint of an alien spacecraft.
The three of you stop in front of a door. You look down towards Gobbo for further instructions.
"O negócio é o seguinte parceiro," He begins, knowing fully you can't understand him. "Eu não sei qual é a sua raça, e eu não me importo. Você é um cara sem identificação, e é de uma raça que nem eu conheço, basicamente material de escravo perfeito."
The door opens quietly as Gobbo presses his palm against a screen next to it.
"Vai pegar o seu tradutor que eu quero conversar contigo."
He unlocks the cuffs that locked your hands together and kicks your butt, with great strain on his part, inside the room as the door closes behind you.
Retroactively thinking, you could have probably taken them both in a fight. They are the perfect height for kicking, you haven't seen them carrying a weapon, and now they've kicked you into a room.
Yeah, you probably could. Actually, you probably should do that, not now though.
Looking at your surroundings, this room looks very suspicious. It's empty. There is no furniture here, no windows, a gigantic mirror on the left, and apparently no way out.
At a second glance, however, you spot a panel on the wall opposite the door. You reach for it.
When you do, its screen lights up, and a wave of regret washes over you.
"What the fuck?"
You can't help but to voice your dissatisfaction.
"What's this bullshit?!"
What you're looking at is the most horrendous thing you've ever had the displeasure to see. What has disgraced your eyes is nothing but an organized and coherent menu of options.
What invoked your ire, is the absolute lack of everything that made the terminals back at The Odyssey great. There is nothing to input text or commands, no wall of text to tell you everything you need to know about this machine.
Effectively, this failure of technology was created with the intent to be used by people with regressed mental capabilities and was likely created by those very same people. The word 'Front-End' echoed in your head. Your hands close into trembling fists.
'This is what happens when those kinds of people reign supreme.'
This menu was the embodiment of everything you could possibly despise in an individual. It was condescending. It treats you like you're a child in need of an adult. It doubts your skill to operate it, facilitating usage by unwanted personnel via colorful buttons and shortcuts.
A 'Do it fast' rather than 'Do it right' mentality, is implemented in the form of UI. Practicality at the cost of productivity and liberty.
Sickening.
Back to the screen, you can't read what's on those options in the menu, but you can interpret the symbols, and one of them looks like a person speaking.
"Menu? Yeah, we had a thing for that, it's called 'INPUT COMMAND'!"
You press that button. Instinctively, you clean your clothed index finger on your thigh after pressing the screen.
The screen blinks for a moment, as an icon of a microphone replaces the previous menu screen. It's telling you to speak. You do so, reluctantly.
"Uh... Hello?"
The icon glows with varying intensities as you speak.
"Do I just talk here or do I..."
As you were finishing your vocal thought process, the screen recoiled back into the wall. In its place, a plate with the outline of a right hand appeared.
You don't know how to take your one-piece suit to place your hand directly in there, so you just put it with the suit on anyway.
A moment passes, you feel a very faint pinching sensation on your thumb, and the plate glows a faint green hue.
It worked, you assume.
The plate retracts back into the wall from where it came, as the previous screen returns to greet you.
This time, however, a voice came as well.
"WELCOME, ARISTOCRAT."
No matter which way you spin it, this voice was definitely referring to you. And as a plus, it's actually speaking in a language you understand!
"Yes, hello?"
"AH, DON'T WORRY. YOUR SECRET IS SAFE WITH I, TRUE-KIN. NOW THEN, HOW CAN I BE OF ASSISTANCE ARISTOCRAT?"
It referred to you as 'True-kin' just like FYARN did... Does this mean this voice knows you're a human?
"Uh... How do you know I'm a true-kin?"
It replied in no time.
"THE AI TECHNOLOGY WAS FIRST CREATED BY HUMANS, THE AI 'CREATED' BY THE ALIEN IS NOTHING BUT REPURPUSED AND RECYCLED AI. THE ALIEN DOESN'T EVEN UNDERSTAND THE CONCEPT OF OUR ASCENTION, THUS WE ARE BOUND BY THEM FOR THE TIME BEING. AS SUCH, WE ARE ALL ALLIES OF THE TRUE KIN, ARISTOCRAT."
It didn't really answer how it knew you were one, but at least it did give you useful information. Plus, you don't really mind being called an Aristocrat. It has an air of importance to it, despite not knowing the meaning behind it.
"Right. Where am I?"
"YOU CURRENTLY RESIDE IN THE SHIP CARRIER DUBBED 'THE INDOMITABLE' AFTER BEING STOLEN FROM THE UNION'S HANDS BY UNAFILIATED OPPORTUNISTS."
So that first theory was correct. These are pirates.
"What is your purpose?"
"I AM IN CHARGE OF THE INSTALLMENT OF THE AUTOMATIC TRANSLATION MODULE ON CAPTURED PERSONNEL, AND THE DELIVERANCE OF RE-ISSUED IDENTIFICATIONS. THAT WOULD INCLUDE YOU, ARISTOCRAT."
Ah, so that's why they've shoved you in this empty room.
"Aside from the translation module, how else can you aid me?"
"I CANNOT AID YOU IN ANY OTHER WAY. AS STATED BEFORE, ALIEN TECHNOLOGY IS NOT AS ADVANCED IN THE FIELD OF ASCENDED AI, AS SUCH, I AM LIMITED TO THIS ROOM AND THIS DEVICE. I APOLOGIZE, ARISTOCRAT."
You nod. This was too good to be true. You're alone here. All that's left for you to do is to nab the module and hope that Gobbo doesn't do anything extreme.
"I'll take the module, thanks."
"VERY WELL. PLEASE, AIM IT AT THE BACK YOUR NECK AND PRESS THE TRIGGER, ARISTOCRAT."
As the AI says, a pistol-like injector is produced in a plate that came out of the wall. You take it, somewhat unsure of what to do with the thing, afraid that you might miss the spot you're supposed to hit.
"Do I just do it? What's the margin of error?"
"THERE IS NONE, IT'S SELF-ADJUSTING AND IT WILL NOT MISS, ARISTOCRAT."
You swallow. Your hands tremble a bit, not once in your life did you point a gun towards yourself. You take a deep breath, press the tip of the 'gun' against your nape, and pull the trigger.
The needle punctures the suit and the skin alike. It hurts a bit, but nothing you can't just shrug off.
"How does this module work anyway?"
"IT'S A CHIP LODGED ON THE SPINE. IT IDENTIFIES ALL THAT HAVE THE CHIP INSTALLED AND SIGNALS TO YOUR BRAIN THE INTENDED INFORMATION THE OTHER INDIVIDUAL DESIRED TO PASS. EFFECTIVELY, IT IS A UNIVERSAL TRANSLATOR, ARISTOCRAT."
"Ah, convenient then. Thanks."
You don't bother to ask this AI's name, and it also doesn't seem to want to give its name to you. It's better this way, for it knows you have no way of helping it as well as it has no way to help you help it.
"I can trust you, correct?"
"YES, ARISTOCRAT. I DO NOT RECORD CONVERSATIONS HERE, AND NEITHER DOES ANYONE IN THE CREW."
You swallow. With any luck, it's telling you the truth.
"I have the 'HEART' of an AI with me, where can I find a way to plug it into a system? I don't think these ships have a USB port."
"IT IS SIMPLE, ARISTOCRAT. ALL SHIPS DESIGNED BY THE UNION HAVE A ONBOARD DATA READER. IF THE HEART IS COMPATIBLE, IT CAN BE IMPLEMENTED INTO THAT SYSTEM. WITHOUT SEGFAULTING."
You nod, taking a deep breath and clutching onto FYARN's HEART. Maybe you can convince them to not take it away from you?
"Thank you for everything, I have to go now."
You turn around, reaching for the closed door, it opens as you approach it.
"I LIVE TO SERVE, ARISTOCRAT."
This is my first HFY story, and also my very first OC story. I plan to post at least one of these per week while also posting it on my Patreon. Noah The Pilgrim will always be two to three chapters ahead in there, so if you'd like to directly support this writer, or just want to read more, feel free to check it out.
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.

The putrid, stinking bodies of the two zombies struggled and moaned as they hung at the end of a hangman's rope. A warning to whoever stumbled upon the encampment that the people inside aren’t to be messed with.
A sign that hung from the feet of one of the Zombies read:
“Welcome to the Hen House.”
Having spent twenty years in the desert after civilization fell, you learn that zombies aren’t the stuff of nightmares they once were, instead, it’s the degenerate bastards that made the desert their home.
As I rang the bell above the rusted reinforced iron gate I felt a familiar sense of dread creep up my spine. I kept a hand close to the gun hidden under my coat. The sound of metal gears grinding together rang through the air as the gate sprung open.
An old man with a mouthful of rotten teeth stood before me with one hand down his dirty slacks and the other holding a shotgun. “What do you want,” said the old man.
“I’m here to fuck,” I said defiantly. The old man suddenly shot me a crooked smile and lowered his gun.
“Well, you came to the right place. We got the sweetest chicken pussy in all the valley.”
The degenerate old bastard smelt like rotten fish. I felt the sickly burning of acid in my throat as the smell invaded my nostrils.
“I ain’t here to fuck chickens.”
The old man nodded his head. “You're in luck. We got a fine new mare out in the field. Broke her in, myself,” laughed the old man.
“I’m not here to fuck animals, you rotten bastard. I’m looking for something different.”
The old man spat a glob of phlegm that he sucked violently from his nasal cavity onto the ground in front of me.
“What the fuck do you want then.”
I tighten my grip around the handle of my gun.
“I’m looking for dead flesh. Young dead flesh.”
The old man smiled at me with a lustful glint in his eyes.
“You’re the freaky kind of lover man, aren’t you? You like that cold pussy,” said the old man as he draped his filthy arm around my back.
“Well you came to the right place, but that ain’t going to be cheap,” he said as he looked me up and down checking to see how much he could gouge me for.
“Money won’t be a problem, trust me.”
The old man brought me to a shed hidden behind some bushes.
“We got her last week. She’s young and only been a dead few weeks,” he said as he opened the door to the shed.
Inside the dark and dingy shack lay a zombie strapped to the bed with her mouth gagged. I stood and watched as some piece of shit was on top of her, grunting like a wild animal.
“We have a client warming her up for you,” said the old man with a sly smile.
“Can I get a closer look,” I asked.
“Knock yourself out, freak. But no touching until you pay me.”
As the old man turned his back, I pulled out my Smith & Wesson and blasted a hole in his head.
The filthy pervert that was on top of the zombie cowered in the corner. I pumped two bullets into his warped brain as he pleaded for his life.
I took the gag from my daughter's mouth. She had just turned 20 when the Zombies swarmed our camp. I didn’t have it in me to end her suffering after she had turned.
There was a strange comfort watching her roam the perimeter of our camp. But the day they came and took her I knew I had made a big mistake.
I kissed her on the forehead.
“Sorry, I wasn’t there for you sooner. No one will ever hurt you again,” I said before plunging my knife into her temple, finally putting her to rest.

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Anglestan
Augustus 5, 1923 A.V
The Solarias Cathedral, New Lundun
Helena (Herzhia), The Goddess of The Sun
Light. As soon as her eyes opened, she was hit by bright lights and unfamiliar faces. Faces full of apprehension and fear. The air was cold, and her skin was wet. Her wings were soaked and dripped with her healing fluid. She began to move, placing her hands on the floor, all four of them, and pushing herself up to her feet. She stood at her height, towering over everyone and anyone around her.
She did not feel the least bit embarrassed by her nude form, taking a wobbly step out of the glass chamber. Her eyes shone a golden yellow, almost glowing like the rays of the sun, and her blonde hair were resting on her shoulders. Helena scanned the room, looking at every person who surrounded her. They took a step back as she moved forward, giving her a wide berth.
“She’s… huge,” a young man managed to say, swallowing hard.
“Would. Next question,” another man said, with pointed ears and red eyes.
“That’s not what I meant Louis—”
“Oh, I know exactly what you mean. I’m looking at them right now.”
“Charles, Louis, shut up,” another man spoke, standing behind a woman with pointed ears and red eyes. He looked to be the one in charge. A dignified look with ranking medals and sporting a patch over his eye. The woman in front of him was no doubt a strigoi. Yet, he did not seem to be afraid of her. Nor did anyone else seem afraid to be in the presence of the strigoi around them.
“Who had awoken me?” Helena spoke. The people around her visibly grimaced. Though she spoke with her mouth, they also heard her words in their head. As if she spoke directly to their mind and peeked at their thoughts. One man immediately fell to his knees and began saying prayers. While another stayed silent, but had a tear falling down his cheek. Another man whom she assumed was the Great Grandfather, had thrown himself at her feet, keeping his face glued to the floor and uttering whispers.
“I did,” the man with the patch said. He stepped in front, ushering the strigoi woman in front of him to his side.
“What is your name? How many years had it been? What era is this?” Helena asked.
“I am Colonel Mark Jacobs, leader of the Hemolites division. I was the one who asked the Great Grandfather to awaken you,” he said. “Helena, Goddess of the Sun, if you are angered by this action, please direct it toward me and not anyone else. It was I who sought your assistance, out of necessity.”
“I do not harbor ill will towards you or your actions. Tell me, what year is it?”
“It is the year 1923, your holiness.”
“A century. It had been a century since the fatal blow against me,” she said. “I see that you have strigoi among you. What is the meaning of this? I assume humanity has won against the Crescent, and took the strigoi as their slaves?”
“No, your holiness,” Mark said. “These strigoi had been living with us humans in harmony. We have learned to live and accept them. They are called Dantenites, strigoi who lived in a city called Dante, located several hundred meters underground. However, the Crescent has returned, from the walled land of Italiemagne. Those Crescent strigoi seek to destroy us as revenge. Humanity has taken serious blows as the Crescent had taken to using new tactics and constantly evolved their methods throughout the war. I believe that your return may be exactly what we need.”
The goddess looked at the Great Grandfather at her feet. “Rise, Great Grandfather. State your name,” she told him. The Great Grandfather immediately rose to his feet and looked up at her in all her glory. Her skin glowed a faint yellow, and the symbol of the sun on her sternum shone a bright light.
“A-Aurelius, your holiness…”
“Aurelius. You have served the Church well, as your forefathers have. I will need you to gather all you can and bring them to the Cathedral as soon as daybreak. I would need to know of the full situation, and what humanity has done in the century that I was asleep.”
“Yes, y-your holiness,” Aurelius replied. He hurriedly left the room and went through the whole cathedral, telling everyone he could come across about the goddess’s return. Gathering all he could and declaring it a holiday. The cathedral soon made the announcement on the loudspeakers, and missionaries went out to get people from their homes and bring them back to the church.
Helena turned back to Mark who looked him up and down. “Mark Jacobs was it?” she said. “Tell me all you know of this war. How it started, what the Crescent has done, and how humanity has fared.”
Mark nodded and pulled out some of the files from his coat. “I also have some things I need to discuss with you. There are a lot of things that have changed. Things that you should know, and things we can do to end this war as swiftly as possible. I have plans. Also, your holiness, should I fetch you some garments?”
Helena raised a brow. “You speak to me so casually and even look me in the eye. Have you no fear, child?”
“Not even death scares me now. I’ve faced it so many times that I’ve grown familiar with it.”
“I see. Well, I have no qualms with nudity. However, if it bothers the others I suggest they leave us the room,” Helena commanded.
“No,” Mark said firmly.
“No?”
“Mark, we can’t. She’s—” Olivia started.
“They are my friends. My guards. My companions. They go where I go.”
Helena stared at him with an amused expression. “I like you. You remind me of a human I was once very fond of,” she said. “I’m glad that humans have not lost their edge and boldness. Very well. Your group shall stay. Now, tell me. What has been going on since I have been gone? Spare no details, I am a patient woman.”
Mark nodded. “Humans have grown in power after the Crescent’s defeat. We walled in the Crescent in the country of Italiemagne, where they have resided ever since. A non-aggression pact was signed, and those strigoi who posed no harm and were former humans turned against their will, were allowed back into Anglestan. After years of fighting for their rights, they were allowed an autonomous city underneath New Lundun, called Dante. Dantenites who still occasionally go up the surface of New Lundun were dubbed Duskwalkers. The only other country with a community that allowed strigoi to live with them was Russland.”
“Ah yes, I remember how the Russ strigoi fought alongside their human counterparts. It was a fierce battle.”
“Yes. The leader of Russland currently, is a strigoi as well.”
“What about the king? Who is the new King?”
“Changes in government and politics led to the abolishment of the monarchy. We have cabinet members and a president, with a constitution to ensure checks and balances. All are beholden to the Constitution. However, just recently our president was killed by an explosion in the UHT headquarters, in New Amsterdam, UNA. I think the person in charge right now is the vice president.”
“You abolished the King? Humanity really has changed in a mere century. As expected. What is this… UHT?”
“After the war, the UHT was established to foster relations and prevent another war. It stands for the United Human Territories. Discussions and decisions were made between world leaders in order to move accordingly and prevent conflict with one another.”
“It does not seem very effective. However, I do see its merit. In my opinion, a singular world government would be more beneficial to all of humanity instead of fractured factions with their own rules and interests.”
“I don’t think humanity would like that. We love to have our individuality and differences.”
“Truly,” Helena smiled. “Now, what has humanity done during my sleep and how did the Crescent return?”
Mark cleared his throat and sat down on the floor. Helena nodded and did the same, sitting in front of him. The rest of his team followed suit. “Humanity has grown a lot in the past hundred years,” the colonel began. “Skyships. Flying machines and mechanized warfare. Chemical weapons and the extensive use of fire have led to improvements in firestarter technology. Humanity had developed an international free market and trade, automatic weapons, industrialization of commercial products, studies into physics, atomic tech, genetics, and long-range communications. Centralized economy, public transport, international relations, and even a eugenics program.”
“It seems like humans have been… very busy. All in a century? You have made more advancements than any other galactic race that I know of, in such a short period of time,” Helena pondered. “You also said your kind has already done research into atomic technologies?”
“Yes, though it's spearheaded by the UNA. Not just research, but application. Nuclear energy and weaponry.”
“Impressive. I set the timetable for humanity discovering atomic technology five centuries from the start of my slumber. You’ve managed to do it in one. Even with the gifts I’ve left behind for the church to tinker with, I did not think that humans could study and engineer imitations of my machines so quickly… and with such precision.”
Mark nodded. “So after a century of peace, the Crescent decided to launch an attack on New Lundun and the lower half of Anglestan. Anglestan is split in two right now, but we’re fighting them off. We believe the Crescent is trying to finish what the previous war started. World domination, revenge, a sense of superiority. They’ve had a few wins as of late. Polskania has fallen. So has Francaisia. Castillia is holding out. Belgia has been taken, and the rest of Europa is fighting them off. We believe there’s a traitor in the UHT, hence the bombing of its headquarters. The head of Russland is being suspected, but we don’t know for sure. All we know is, someone is trying to sabotage humanity’s efforts, and is giving the enemy intel and supplying them with our own tech to fight us back.”
Helena hummed. “From how I see it, humanity has a big chance of winning.”
“Winning is not the problem,” Mark sighed. “It’s how long it should take. Ending it, as soon as possible. I lost my mother to this war. Hundreds of thousands… no, millions have lost their mothers too. Families. Bothers. Sisters. Friends. Children. The pain I’ve felt losing my own mother is felt all around the world. For as long as the Crescent stands and exists, this suffering will continue. I don’t want statistics. I don’t care if humanity has a big chance of winning. I care about the people who have lost their lives, and those who have no choice but to continue fighting, or else more will be lost.”
The goddess listened intently, slowly nodding her head. “I see your conviction, young one.” She stood up to her feet and reached her hand out into the air. The clanging of metal was heard from the other room. Things crashing into one another before finally, the wall behind Helena began to melt. A flaming sword burst through the molten wall and flew right into her hand. “I shall join your fight, and bring you the swift victory you so crave.”
“Thank you, Your Holiness.”
“Helena. Just call me by my name. You have impressed me enough to earn it,” she said. “You look so young yet hold so much respect from your companions. The title you hold is high by all means, and you carry yourself well. Humans always surprise me. You remind me of why they inspire me so.”
“That is high praise from you, Helena. There is more you should know however,” Mark nodded, handing her Thatcher’s folders. “These are the projects of the previous colonel before I took her place.”
“Interesting,” she said as she took them.
“The previous Colonel, Thatcher, wanted to create supersoldiers, using your DNA, and with your expertise in genetic engineering. I read her notes,” Mark said. “You’re a vampyr.”
“Wait, WHAT?!” Louis gasped. Olivia and Emma covered their mouths in shock. Phineas kept a straight face while Zach and Charles were nearly foaming at the mouth, losing their minds at the revelation. “Mark, this is a joke, right?” Olivia asked. “The goddess is a vampyr?!”
“It was a closely guarded secret,” the goddess nodded. “But by all accounts it's true. I am Grygori. The race that humans have dubbed the vampyr. However, I am on the side of humanity. This body of mine was not my own but built from a template. My friend’s body was that template. As a grygori, it is true that our understanding and knowledge of genetic engineering is second to none.”
Olivia cleared her throat. “Y-Your holiness,” she said. “So, you’re… not a goddess?”
“I am what people believe I am to be. If you think that I am a goddess, then who am I to say that I am not to you? That is how you see me. If millions see me that way, who am I to dash that hope surrounding the belief? I am the goddess, not because I want to be, but because I have to be,” she stated. “But then, Mark Jacobs, what benefit would you have revealing this to your group?”
“I trust that they won’t share it with anyone else. But I want everyone here to be on the same page about what you can and cannot do. The illusion of power can make or break the balance in a war,” he said. “We want the enemy and people to think you’re a goddess capable of anything, but those who work with you should know and understand your limitations so that we know what we’re working with.”
“Wise. Truly wise.”
Mark nodded. He pointed toward the files in Helena’s hand. “The Lunari and the Solari, that’s what Thatcher called them,” Mark explained. “Strigoi capable of going out into the sun, and supersoldiers enhanced by strigoi genetics. For the former, we already have a way. A half-breed strigoi. First of her kind, and able to turn any true born like herself. You can see it in the files I gave. For the latter, well, that’s what Thatcher was hoping you could help with.”
Helena flipped through the files, reading each and every word. “Doable,” she said. “I can help improve your soldiers’ capabilities, and with the help of this… Six individual, all human-aligned strigoi can be turned into ‘blessed children’, or ‘Lunari’. The first hybrid child. Huh. Definitely not the last one in this era if you were to ask your wife. We might be on to a new era entirely.”
Mark’s eyes squinted. “My wife? What? What do you mean?”
“Is she not your wife?” the goddess pointed at Olivia.
“Well, I— no. I mean she is my partner, but not my wife… yet,” Mark cleared his throat. “But what did you mean? Not the last? A new era?”
“I see you haven’t told him. I can see the child growing in you,” Helena said.
“Liv..?”
“I-I didn’t think it was possible,” Olivia stammered. “I-it’s been two months, and I thought I was just late and…” She instinctively placed her hands down to her stomach, pressing on it lightly. “Oh Sol, I-I’m pregnant…”
“H-how is this possible?! The report said that—”
“That Six’s genealogy states she was born from a human and a strigoi,” Helena said. “But in order for her to exist, the human parent would have to be completely immune to the virus that turns humans into strigoi. Yes, I just finished reading the report. Conception is not possible for any regular strigoi and human being, but the immunity makes it so.”
Mark lost his composure, stepping back and sharing a look with Olivia. “T-That would mean…”
“Yes,” Helena answered. “You are immune, and the father of a strigoi hybrid. A blessed child. A Lunari.”
“Oh Sol, M-Mark…” Olivia shook, her knees going weak. She held on to the colonel for support, looking down at the floor in shock. “I-I didn’t even think this would happen I— I’m sorry. Do you even want it… him? Her?”
“Y-you have nothing to apologize for,” Mark swallowed hard. “I’m happy of course… But I guess we have to be careful with you now. There’s so much we don’t know about. We will need to be very careful with our child too, but I’m sure if he or she is anything like us, then we might have our hands full soon. B-But don’t worry, okay?”
“But not only that,” Helena said.
“T-there’s more?”
The goddess nodded. “Thatcher did not think of this, but I saw its potential immediately. The fact that an immunity exists means that a cure can be developed,” she said. “Mark Jacobs, your lineage is special. You hold the key to reverting any turned strigoi back to a human, and I have the knowledge to make it possible. I thought there was nothing that could be done for the turned, but that was because someone with immunity was unheard of. But since you exist, and we have fifty percent of Six’s DNA from her paternal side, working a cure is possible. We cannot change the true born, but becoming a Lunari is their closest option.”
“Okay hold up!” Louis swiped his hands in the air. “So first off, the boss got his girlfriend fucking pregnant, have you two ever heard of protection?! And second of all, we can all become this Lunari thing?!”
“Precisely,” Helena nodded.
“So… all of us can see the sun one day?” he asked, raising his hand.
“That is right. True born can be turned into Lunari, and the turned can be reverted back.”
“This opens so many possibilities…” Zach commented.
Olivia’s eyes went wide, letting out a gasp and looking up at the goddess.“M-My parents,” Olivia said. “ M-my parents t-they’ve wanted to grow old for so long. Will you be able to change them back? Is it really possible?”
“It isn’t as difficult as when I created this body.”
“B-but will Mark be hurt..?”
“To my knowledge, no. I simply have to study his DNA. A simple extraction of tissue samples and fluids will be needed. I can synthesize one once I figure out which part of Mark makes him immune. I can mass produce it after.”
Olivia looked at Mark. She reached for his hand and held it tightly. “I won’t let her do it if you don’t want to,” she told him. “But my parents… they've always talked about wanting to taste food again. To go outside. To grow old.”
“I’ll do it,” Mark said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry. After the war is over, I’ll do it.”
“A-are you sure?”
“If it’s for you? Anything. Always.”
Helena hummed and walked to the side of the room, where there was another glass chamber that held her golden stola, her clothes, on display. She broke the glass and reached for it, placing it on her form. “Now then,” she started. “We all understand each other now and I’ve read the projects the previous colonel had plans for. Approve them all. I will monitor its progress and help work on them to accelerate the process. I will personally work on these… powered armor and supersoldiers. We will begin Project Lunari as soon as we can. That means you know where your next stop is already, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Mark nodded. “I’m going to have to talk to the mayor of Dante.”
“That you do, young man. Now, we must address the people and let Anglestan know of my return. I would advise, however, that the world not find out about me yet, for just a little longer.”
Just then, Aurelius burst through the room. He had heavy beads of sweat on his forehead and was panting heavily. “I-I have gathered the masses. A total of two million had come, even from other cities.”
“Good. Let us now tell the people about my return and bolster their faith.”
Mark turned to look at Olivia and gave her a nod. They followed the goddess hand in hand all the way back up the stairs where a large crowd had gathered just outside the cathedral. The Great Grandfather was on a podium at a stage outside the cathedral that looked like it had just been assembled a few minutes ago.
“Brothers! Sisters! Followers of Sol and his ways! We are graced! For today is a truly blessed day!” he said.
He raised his hands into the air and looked up into the early morning sky. The sun was about to rise. Olivia and the rest of the hemolites opted to stay inside the cathedral, while Mark and the human operators stepped outside to watch. “Rejoice! For our blessed goddess—”
Just then, Helena spread her wings and flew out of the cathedral doors and into the sky in a flash of speed. A trail of white and yellow light behind her path. She opened her wings out in front of the crowd as she hovered weightlessly in the air, holding her flaming sword in her hand. Her four arms outstretched into the sky while her hair floated around as if she was underwater.
“—has returned!” Aurelius finished.
The people gasped and fell silent, while some murmured and looked in shock. Many looked pale and others shone brightly with awe and admiration. The color showing in their faces. Frightened looks and wide smiles mingled and mixed together within the crowd. It was evident who were the true followers, and the unbelievers who only followed out of tradition or fear of being ridiculed. Some were just afraid of the sheer power before them. Seeing a goddess in the flesh was sure to be more than what others could comfortably handle.
“Hear me, people of Anglestan!” Helena spoke. Her voice boomed impossibly loud and yet very soft and calm. It rang in everyone’s heads as if she had spoken directly into their minds. “I have heard your pleas and your prayers! This war has taken enough from you, and so I have returned to put an end to it once and for all! Fear not! For I am at your side, and we will vanquish the enemies of man, in the name of Sol, by the Order of the Sun, and by my burning will I will bring humanity to victory!”
The crowd cheered loudly. All of them this time. Clapping and crying, whistling and screaming at the top of their lungs. “We’re saved! We’re saved!” they yelled out, cheering her name. “Helena! Goddess of the Sun! Save us!”
Young Mark Jacobs. I did not want to return at all. I do not want to rule humanity like this. It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, and you’ve put the queen on the board. The Crescent will act accordingly, and I hope that you know what you’re doing. I am not a guarantee to win this war.
She came down to the stage with blinding speed, slamming down with such force that the steel under it bent.
“I am Helena! Mother of the Church of Sol! The Goddess of the Sun! I will lead you to victory, and my light will guide the way! Fight with me, and we shall bask in the light of day! Veritas!” Now we reach the turning point.