Chapter 5
Lacy opened her eyes and saw flashing colorful lights. She heard carnival music playing from loudspeakers. She wondered to herself what this place was walking around. She saw multiple vendor stands and carnival games. Everything looked abandoned, food dropped on the floor and chairs flipped. She continued walking, finding a carnival ride. It was one of the droppers. Lacy had memories with her mother going on these kinds of rides. She pushed on following the stands until she stumbled upon a circus tent. She stepped inside and saw a man. The man was very tall and was standing in the middle of the tent. The man turned around and the lights to the tent turned on revealing that the man was a clown on stilts. The clown had a white face with a red nose. His hair was red and was split in two making it look like he had horns. He had on an oversized shirt that looked like multiple blue and red shirts stitched together. His pants were baggy and had obvious blood stains. The stilts made him about ten feet tall. The clown wore a frown on his face, giving Lacy a sense of uncertainty. “What's your name little girl, I have all sorts of tricks that can make you laugh.” The clown's voice was goofy and lighthearted compared to the frown on its face that it kept. “Ah come on, don't be shy. We can still have fun. Not like all of the other’s who left.” Lacy noticed a man lying in a pool of blood next to the clown. He was wearing ringmaster attire. The clown noticed that Lacy saw the body. “He didn’t laugh. Just like the others.” The clown's voice had changed. He now sounded like an older man who had given up on feeling joy. “Did you kill that man?” Lacy asked, already knowing the answer. “No. I released him. He didn’t laugh. He had no joy. So I released him.” Lacy began to back off, gripping her knife. The clown revealed a sword it was holding behind his back. It had blood on it. “I’ll release you too”. The clown began stepping towards her, laughing while doing so. “God Dammit not again” Lacy ran throughout the carnival grounds with the clown closely behind her. She noticed a security trailer. She got to the door and it was locked. Hearing the laughter getting closer. She slammed her body into the door until it finally broke open. The laughter ceased. Lacy looked around the office not seeing anything special. Until she saw a tape recorder.
Chapter 6
Lacy grabbed the recorder. “Who would even have time to make these?”
This is Professor Crawdord. I have managed to survive in this obscure world for what feels like multiple days. This new threat, the clown on stilts seems to be less of a problem than he looks. He’s slow compared to other things I have faced. I discovered evidence as to who this person is. His name is Daniel Larson. He worked at the circus for most of his life. One could only imagine the mind of someone who is laughed at all day for most of their lives. On an unfortunate day Larson snapped and murdered a man on the fairgrounds. The man was another attraction. His specialty was swallowing swords and evidence showed that Larson used the sword to kill him. Larson continued killing, focusing on people that would not laugh at his jokes. The Ringmaster called showtime and at the start of the show Larson told him a joke in front of the audience and when the Ringmaster did not respond Larson killed him. The audience rushed out and as the police showed up Larson had disappeared. Upon searching his trailer they found pictures of other unsolved murders in the area. Larson was never caught. I have not figured out exactly what the holes are but I feel that Larson has to be connected somehow. These holes have a requirement to open. A death must take place for them to appear.
Lacy set the tape recorder down understanding now what had to happen. Lacy looked at the knife in her hand. “He’s a murderer. He’s hurt people. I'd be doing the world a favor.” Lacy opened the trailer door and followed the laughter leading to the circus tent.
Chapter 6
Lacy reached the entrance to the tent, peering inside she saw Larson standing over the ringmaster's body. Lacy moved underneath the stands. Larson turned towards the entrance and began walking around the tent. “I know you're here child.” Lacy ran throughout the underside of the stands. Trying to find an angle to see Larson and which direction he was facing. Lacy could see Larson was searching for her. The stilts made him move slow enough for her to sneak up on him easily. Slowly moving throughout the tent, Lacy got close enough behind Larson to hear him mumbling something to himself. Running towards Larson she kicked the stilts causing him to fall to the ground. Lacy took the opportunity to stab the clown in the shoulder. Larson kicked Lacy away and swept the sword in her direction, cutting her on the leg. Lacy turned to run towards the opening of the tent, but Larson grabbed her foot and lifted the sword. “You’ll pay like they did.” Lacy kicked Larson in the face, got up and ran to leave the tent. “DON’T LEAVE! YOU HAVEN'T LAUGHED YET!” Lacy could hear Larson limping behind her, now off the stilts. She ran until she could no longer hear Larson behind her. “The dropper, I can distract him with the dropper.” Lacy avoided Larson, eventually making her way to the dropper. She didn’t know how to work the machine so she had to guess until she got it right. “Come on, you stupid machine.” Pressing multiple buttons, Lacy could hear the laughter of Larson creeping slowly towards her. Finally the ride shot up into the sky. Larson stepped onto the platform of the dropper. “I found you, please stop. I'll lose everything if you don't laugh.” Lacy took notice of the dropper rushing towards the ground. Just as Larson swiped his sword down at Lacy, she dodged out of the way. As Larson tried to get his footing back, she pushed him under the dropper. The machine crushed him ending the vile man’s savage slaughter. Lacy turned around to see at the bottom of the platform a hole had appeared. “Please, let me go home.” Lacy stepped through the hole, once again blacking out.
Chapter 7
Lacy awoke to a wooded area. She noticed a sign that said “The Weeping Woods”. “Where am I? Am I home?” Standing up she followed a trail marked that led to a camping area. She saw multiple benches and what seemed like a campfire that was put out. She continued along the path seeing a fire watch tower in the distance. “Maybe that place has people”. Continuing to the tower she could hear someone crying from a distance. Lacy kept pushing on the trail until she reached the bottom of the watch tower. The stairs felt endless as Lacy could hear the hissing of a radio coming from the room on top.She noticed that one of the stairs as well as the railing was damaged. Lacy skipped that step in fear of it breaking. Reaching the top everything felt nauseatingly small. She could see a light moving in the distance. The light moved erratically as if it was a person holding a flashlight, running away from something. Lacy turned to the watch room and noticed that the lights were on and someone was trying to reach the radio in the room. Pulling open the door she walked up to the radio and as she tried to contact the person on the other side, the radio shut off. Turning to examine the rest of the room Lacy noticed another tape recorder. Grabbing the recorder she pressed play.
I managed to kill the smiling man. I don’t know what it has done to me emotionally. It seemed so easy at the time. I told myself that the man was a beast. Anyway, I awoke in a forest, I found a path and followed it until I found a woman. The woman was sitting in the middle of the path. She was wearing a white dress that was covered in dirt. I could not see her face, but I could hear her. She was crying and her body looked frail. As I got closer I noticed her hair was long enough to cover her entire face. She asked me a question. “Have you seen Kevin?” I had no answer. Fear took over every part of my body. I could feel my muscles start to ache at the thought of having to run from this girl. A loud growl came from the girl. It shaked my very soul. I managed to escape to her. I made my way to the watch room where I will rest for a while. To whoever finds this tape, you know what you have to do.
Lacy put the recorder down. Looking out of the window she saw the light continue to move in the forest before it stopped. As Lacy turned to leave the watch room. The light disappeared.
Chapter 8
Walking along the path that the light she saw was on, Lacy couldn't help but see the image of the girl the Crawford had described in her head. Looking at the knife she still had, she knew there was only one way to get out of this forest. Along the trail Lacy found the light source that she had seen. It belonged to a man that was lying still on the floor. His flashlight was still on. “Hey, are you alright?” Lacy asked the body. Turning the body over Lacy stepped back in horror. The man's body was pale and looked shriveled. Lacy brushed the fear off and picked up his flashlight. As Lacy picked it up she heard a voice from behind her. “Have you seen Kevin?” Fear erupted in Lacy as the words were familiar to her. Remembering the recorder she slowly stood up before turning around to face the being. The girl was exactly as described in the tape. Except for one detail. She had a wedding veil on. “I don’t know who Kevin is, I'm sorry” Lacy said the first thing that came to her mind, instantly regretting it. The girl opened her mouth at an angle that rivaled pythons. A ghastly wail rang out of her mouth, ringing Lacys ears. Without hesitation Lacy plunged the knife into the girl's neck. Pulling it out the wailing did not cease. It didn't affect her. Lacy turned to run, almost tripping over the body of the man. As Lacy was running the girl was on all fours crawling towards her at a faster pace than any normal person could crawl. She looked like an animal. Lacy noticed that the girl was no longer screaming, but was crying. The tears were blood red and she looked sympathetic to Lacy. Running past the trees Lacy looked for an answer to the problem that was crawling behind her. Trying to listen over the sound of her own breathing and the crying of the girl behind her, she heard the sound of a river flowing in the distance. Running towards the sound of the river, Lacy tripped over a log tumbling to the ground. Almost in an instant the girl climbed on top of her. Her eyes met Lacy as her mouth opened in the same disgusting manner that it had before and just as her mouth opened the same way as it had before, the same sound erupted as well. Lacy felt her blood boil at the sound, feeling her life leaving her body. In a final attempt to free herself she freed her hand and stuck the knife directly into the girl's mouth. The girl’s scream stopped and turned into a painful yelp rather than an angry roar. Lacy used the moment to kick the girl off of her and got up to run. As she began to run the girl grabbed her leg, piercing her skin with her nails. Lacy pushed through and kept running. As Lacy was running she turned her head around to see the girl just sitting there, crying. Lacy got a fair distance away and began walking to regain strength. Finally making it to the river, she stopped to drink. Lacy made a sudden realization. She wasn't thirsty. After everything she had been through she was not thirsty at all. Not only was she not thirsty, but she was not hungry either. “I have to come up with a plan”. Lacy understood the rules of this strange place. Something has to die in order for one of those holes to appear. “But I saw that guy's body, why wasn’t there a hole there? No, these beings, Larson, The Smiling Man, This girl, they don’t get to leave. That’s why Crawford said you know what you have to do. The holes appear when the beings in these places die. The girl has to die for a hole to appear.” Lacy was talking outloud, it made her feel less alone. As Lacy was washing the blood off of her she looked into the river. She could see the moon in the reflection as well as her face. Looking into her eyes she noticed a drop hit the river. Looking at the other side of the river. She saw the girl crouching down, looking directly at Lacy with her blood red eyes.
Chapter 9
The river wasn’t wide. It would take the girl less than 5 seconds to cross. Lacy had to think fast. Her mind was racing as the girl just sat there and watched her. An idea popped into her head. The watchtower. Almost supernaturally, as Lacy had the idea the girl lounged towards her. Lacy dodged out of the way and broke into a sprint hearing the girl crying and crawling after her. After what felt like hours of running and having this thing chase after her, she made it to the tower. The girl was crawling after her, looking like an alligator chasing its prey. Stepping onto the steps Lacy felt her legs start to give up. She pushed on, her muscles burning. Turning her head she saw the girl crawling up the stairs. Lacy’s heart was racing as her body needed to rest or it would shut down. “Where is Kevin?” The girl screamed for the first time since she had begun chasing Lacy. Lacy could feel her body giving up and just as she passed the broken step, her legs collapsed. Lacy layed on the steps as the girl crawled up the steps towards her. The girl was crawling slower now that she had seen Lacy was on the ground. Lacy continued backing up on the stairs. Just as the girl was about to lounge at Lacy she put her hand on the broken step. Seeing this Lacy kicked the broken step causing it to break. The girl lost her footing and Lacy pushed her off of the balcony. The girl fell from the immense height of the tower. Lacy took the moment to just lay on the steps. Hours passed as Lacy rested. She mustered up enough strength to go down the stairs. At the bottom of the tower she found the body of the girl. She looked as if all of her bones were broken. Her eyes were open and Lacy could see the blood pooling in them. Lacy became nauseous at the sight of her body. Looking to the left she saw a hole. A hole that was all too familiar with her. Lacy collected her thoughts. “This has to end” Stepping through the hole, only one thing was in her mind. This has to end.
Chapter 10
Lacy woke up to the sound of snow falling. The room that she was in was warm. A fire was crackling in the corner of the room. Looking out of the window of the house she saw a massive snow storm that affected her vision to see past the tree line. Lacy examined her surroundings and saw a normal looking room. In the middle was a couch. Just looking at the couch made Lacy tired. Walking around the cabin she noticed the room looked untouched, unlike every other place she had been in. Sitting down on the couch Lacy's eyes became heavy as she began to fall asleep. Just as she was about to pass out a loud bugle of an elk erupted. Lacy ran to the window to see where it was. As she looked outside it seemed as if the storm had stopped for just a second. As the snow ceased, an elk poked through the tree line. Its eyes were looking directly at Lacy. Just as fast as it disappeared, the snow storm erupted. “You’re a failure Lacy.” A voice swept through the cabin. It sounded familiar. “You killed her you know” Lacy placed the voice. It was her father. Lacy’s mind was racing. How did he get here? Why was he saying this? Where was he? And her last thought, Was this really him? The elk bugle rang throughout the cabin again. “I pitied you” The voice was Collin. Lacy searched the windows of the house trying to find the origin of the voices she was hearing. “Everyone hates you” Lacy stepped towards the door reaching for the handle. A sudden and intense fear brushed over her. Lacy felt that if she opened that door, whatever was telling her these things would take her life. Stepping away from the door she heard the Elk bugle again. “Why did you leave me Lacy?” The voice was her father again. This time it sounded as if he was crying. “I told you I needed you and you left. After everything I sacrificed for you, after all of the times I had to go to that school to bail you out. This is how you repay me.” Lacy could feel her emotions boiling inside of her. Everything that was being said was true in a sense so Lacy was letting it affect her more than anything else ever had. She could feel tears running down her face. “I'm trying to get back to you dad, I just don't know how.” Lacy looked towards the window and saw the Elk. It had gotten closer to the cabin. The snow had calmed down. The Elk opened its mouth and spoke in the voice of her father. “You won’t make it out of this place alive Lacy”.
Chapter 11
Looking into the eyes of the Elk, Lacy’s blood ran cold. Her mind was racing. Animals can’t talk but yet this Elk just looked her in the eyes and spoke in the voice of her father as well as other people she knew. The snow had ceased tremendously compared to when she had first appeared in the cabin. Lacy worked up the courage to ask the Elk a question. “What do you want from me?” The Elk did not reply, instead it turned to the tree line and left. Remembering the rules of this place, Lacy understood that the Elk had to die. The question was how she was going to accomplish that. Lacy gathered enough courage to open the door to examine her surroundings. Outside of the cabin was a blanket of blinding snow. The sun was high in the sky blinding Lacy. Before Lacy went back inside she noticed a wooden stump sticking out of the snow. Sticking out of the stump was an axe. Lacy slammed the door shut and closed the latch. Lacy knew that the dull kitchen knife she had wouldn’t be able to handle an elk, but an axe would. Lacy began to plan a way to get to the Elk. She took notice of certain aspects that the Elk had. Every time it made the bugle noise, it would change voices. The closer it got, the more the snowstorm would calm. Lacy had to play its game until it got close enough to the axe so that she could reach the axe before it could reach her. The elk bugle sounded again. “You really think that anyone thought you could accomplish anything.”. It was her teacher. Lacy peered out of the window. The snow had ceased ever so slightly. Lacy could see the silhouette of the elk near the same spot it was in before. “What do you think, we cared about you? We pitied you and your pitiful existence.” Lacy began to brush off the sentences coming from the elk's mouth. Lacy was contemplating if the axe play was the way to move further. The bugle went off again. “Lacy” the voice was the smiling man. The smiling man was a recent memory to Lacy. This elk had to know who she was to be able to know who he was. Lacy looked out of the window. The elk was watching her. This time Lacy saw it make the awful sound she had continued to hear. Instead of a voice she had heard. It was a voice that was unfamiliar to her. “Why fight it child. Why fight what you truly are. Why fight human nature? Why fight reality? Do you truly think you can escape? Do you truly believe that you will see your father again? Do you believe that you have people to rely on in this place? Do you truly believe that God is with you here? You have no chance. Smite me down if you must. HOPE SHOULD BE ABANDONED IN THIS PLACE” Lacy brushed off every word that was said. Rushing to the door she threw it open. Running through the snow. She reached the axe. It was a standard fire axe with a yellow handle and black blade. It wasn't heavy to her, it had to be adrenaline. Rushing towards the elk it did not fight back. She plunged the axe head into the elk's skull. Blood rushed out of the wound, covering Lacy. The elk fell to the floor with a booming thud. As Lacy stared at the body of the animal lying in the snow, a hole appeared behind her. Lacy had to believe that there was an end to this. She stepped through the hole. With a new found axe.

Chapter 1
“Ms. Burner am I boring you”. Lacy was awakened by her Teacher spouting off in her usual rant on how people never seem to pay attention in her class. “No Mrs. Hansen, I just dozed off.” Lacy hadn't remembered falling asleep. She tended to do that a lot. She would enter her mind and drift off into a space where she didn't have any thoughts, just an empty spot in her head. That was how she would fall asleep so easily. Her friends and family thought she was narcoleptic and that she needed medication, but Lacy knew that it was just something she had always been able to do. Time seemed to tick on and on in that soul sucking classroom as Mrs. Hansen droned on and on about some subject that Lacy would never need. She felt the sleep creeping in on her but fought it as another strike would end her up in the principal's office and another speech from her father on how she needed to focus in class if she ever wanted to make something of herself. Just as Lacy was about to fall asleep the bell rang making her jump. Lacy was the first to get up before she was stopped. “Lacy, can we talk for a second?” Lacy hated Mrs. Hanse's voice. It always sounded like she felt like she was more important than everyone else. “Lacy, I noticed that you haven't been completing the optional assignments I give yall, and the assignments you need to do you do the bare minimum. It's your senior year, you need to start taking your school work more seriously if you want to get into a good college.” Lacy had already heard this speech before and this probably wouldn't be the last time that she heard it. “I was just really tired today, Mrs. Hansen. I promise it won't happen again.” Lacy turned to walk away from her teacher. She used to get in trouble for doing that but lately it seems that her teachers have gotten used to it. Lacy hated interaction, if she could find a way to not talk to someone she would look for it. It wasn't hard for Lacy to be alone. It's not like she liked being alone, she just didn't mind it. Lacy left the classroom, the only thing on her mind was what she was gonna do this weekend. She usually just sits in her room and listens to music, but recently she started going to the park and would watch the ducks and people. She liked the park because it made her feel like things were going on outside of her life. “Hey Lace wait up” The voice was Collin, a guy who was very obviously interested in Lacy. He would call her Lace which annoyed her but she decided it was better to ignore him than start a conversation she didn't want to have. Lacy wasn't interested in Collin but she liked having someone around. “Do you wanna go to the overpass? Some other people are having a party there.” Lacy wouldn't usually go to things like this but this time she felt something pushing her to go to this party. “Sure, I just need to go home and change first”.
Chapter 2
Lacy walked through the front door of her house to a tv turned up too loud and her father passed out in front of it. From an outside view on Lacy you would look at her and assume that her family life was lacking, but Lacy’s father took care of her and loved her more than life itself. Lacy viewed her father as the best person on the face of the earth. After the loss of her mother, Lacy’s father took up a second job which caused him to sleep more. Lacy didn't mind, she just wanted her father happy. Lacy changed into a black dress and black leather boots and left to go to the underpass. While she was leaving her father awoke. “Lacy I didn't know that you were home.” Lacy's father was a burly man with a beard. The kind of person you want walking with you at night but in reality he was a gentle giant. He worked at a local hardware store and at night he would work as a gas station attendant. He was a hard working man that made Lacy feel as if she could be doing more. “Yeah dad I was just about to head to a party with some friends. I'll be back around nine.” Lacy wanted to stay in with her dad and watch movies but she knew that her father would have wanted her to socialize with other people her age. “You be careful, I can't lose you too.” The sentence came out of nowhere and Lacy didn't know how to respond before her father fell back to sleep. Lacy left the house questioning herself if she should stay or go. Lacy decided that her father would rather her go than stay and pity him. As Lacy was walking away from the porch she noticed a van parked across the street. She chose to ignore it and continue on to the overpass. Along the way she noticed that the van was following her. Lacy became worried and pulled out her phone to call her father. Suddenly Lacy was struck on the side of her head. “Grab her legs. The Shepard is gonna love this find. We gotta get this girl in the hole right away.”
Lacy drifted in and out of consciousness. The last thing she saw was a hole that had a dark aura around it.
Chapter 3
Lacy awoke to a dark hallway. She didn’t notice the building but could hear a crunching sound coming from an indescribable location. Lacy stood up and began walking forward not knowing where she was going. The Hallway felt like it had been going on forever. “Lacy” The voice sounded deep and demonic. Lacy thought that she was hearing things. “Lacy” footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, seeming to come closer and closer. “Lacy” A face peaked out of the hallway. Illuminated by the dimming lights of the hallway. The face was jagged, its eyes were sunken in and unnaturally open to the point where it looked like it was in pain. Its hair was tattered as if it had single strands poking out of its skin and its complexion was a ghoulish grey. The most notable feature was a smile that stretched its entire face. “Lacy” The creature looked at Lacy and stepped out of the shadows revealing a long lengthy body. Its arms were long and slender as if it had not eaten in a long time. Its legs were lengthy making it above seven feet tall. It had only a pair of underwear on and Lacy could see its ribs that looked as if they were trying to break out of its skin. The creature began running towards Lacy, smiling and eyes widening as if seeing Lacy was the best thing it had ever seen. Its teeth were normal except for the blood tint they had. Its neck looked crooked and longer than any human Lacy had ever seen. Without hesitation Lacy turned and ran down the hallway not looking back but could hear the creature getting closer and closer. She could almost feel its hands getting closer to her neck, fearing what the creature would do to her if it caught her. She noticed a door on her left which she could have sworn was not there before. She knew that if she tried to get to open the door now the creature would catch her. Lacy kept running counting the amount of lights she passes to make sure she remembers the location of the door. “Lacy” The creature kept saying her name as if it knew who she was. Lacy couldn't think about that now she had to focus on finding a way to lose the creature. Lacy was running out of energy and decided she had to make a desperate move. She dropped her body and turned around dodging under the beast's arms as it reached for her. The beast ended up having too much momentum causing it to stumble. Lacy took the opportunity to burst into a sprint counting the lights until she reached the door. The creature was still behind her but she had made some distance from making it stumble. She opened the door and closed it behind her. Disturbingly the creature tried to open the door as lacy locked it. It made no noise but continued calling her name. Lacy’s emotions caught up with her and she sat down and cried at her situation. Lacy allowed herself to feel hopeless for only a moment. She remembered her fathers words to her, “I can't lose you too”. Repeating these words in her head allowed Lacy to regain composure. She studied her surroundings realizing that she appeared to be in an apartment. The place was decrepit and looked as if it was abandoned. The furniture was ripped apart and spread among the apartment. It looked like someone had destroyed everything in a fit of passion. Lacy walked through a door which led to the main room. In the room was a tape recorder on a bed. Lacy picked it up and pressed play.
If you are hearing this then you have found yourself in a predicament that could not have been foreseen. I feel for you for I have found myself in the same situation. My name is Professor Crawford. I have yet to understand what this place is exactly all I know is that the being that chased me into this room is still out there. I can hear it against the door. It continues to say my name as if it is trying to coerce me out. I have never seen this being in my existence. It should have no recollection of who I am but yet it continues to say my name. This room has no other exits that I can find. I have no choice but to confront the being outside. May god have mercy on my soul.
Lacy looked around the apartment, checking every corner of the space not finding anything. She entered the kitchen and found a kitchen block that had a single kitchen knife in it. Lacy felt a force telling her to take the knife. She brushed it off and continued looking around. Abruptly the creature began beating on the door saying Lacy’s name. Just as the creature began banging on the door the tape recorder began playing again.
I do not know what this thing is. But it has one feature that can not be ignored. Thus I have dubbed this creature.
The Smiling Man
Chapter 4
Lacy ran for the knife that had tried to coerce her into grabbing it before. Just as the smiling man had broken down the door she grabbed the knife. The smiling man looked at lacy. Its head is covered in blood due to it slamming it into the door. “What are you? What do you want?” The man said nothing and continued walking towards Lacy. “LACY” As it was walking towards her Lacy held the knife in her hand. Determined to live she walked towards it holding the knife out towards the man hoping to scare it off. Suddenly the man burst towards her, its eyes widening and its mouth opening into a horrible smile. Lacy plunged the knife towards it, hitting it in the chest when it stuck its teeth into Lacy’s shoulder. Lacy’s adrenaline was too high to feel the pain so she pulled the knife out and pushed away from the man. She rushed out of the room hearing it running after her. She continued running hearing the creature say her name until she found a corner. Realizing what was happening she used the new found corridors to her advantage. The long hallway was turning into a maze of corridors. She managed to lose the creature but could still hear it saying her name. Mapping the maze out she maneuvered around the man. Sneaking up behind him she pulled the knife up and plunged it down into the man's shoulder. The man didn't make a noise instead peeling over in what seemed like pain. Lacy took the knife out and a sudden burst of rage stabbed the man again. Lacy continued stabbing the man over and over until it stopped moving. Lacy slumped against the wall, knife in hand, covered in blood and terrified of what she just did. She peered to her left and saw a hole. The hole was floating and had an aura around it. Lacy noticed the hole as the one the men put her into before she woke up in the hallway. Lacy contemplated if she should go into the hole. She had nowhere else to go so she stepped into the hole.

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{Sorry for the late post. I had some trouble with my scheduled summer semester pop up so I wasn't able to write this out as much as I wanted last weekend. Anyways, enjoy the domestic fluff of Damian and his newly expanded flock :) }
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-----Damian-----
"The next one's simple. Say their name then (sit). Like this: Braxton, (sit)." As Damian said the command he raised his hand to around shoulder height and snapped. The Great Dane in question slowly sat with his usual amount of sass. Ree cooed in awe and Scales' eyes sparkled. Damian smiled as he pats the large dog's head with praise.
"(Good boy). Ok, you two. Your turns. Make sure to say the commands in English. I haven't taught them Common yet." He motioned to the dogs Damian picked for the two to learn the commands with. It took Damian a bit of trial and error figuring out what commands each dog knew and what ones had different commands for the same motion. Then it took even longer to retrain them to all follow the same commands. He kept in mind the 'specialized' commands for a few of the dogs and didn't try teaching them to the whole group. Ree tried the command he was teaching them first, his dog being Diesel.
"Trii-cheiu, (sit)." Ree raised his wing-arm, though he couldn’t snap he still did the gesture. The boxer he was talking to blankly tilted his head. Damian chuckled and helped out the bird, knowing they all tend to have problems pronouncing new words without a chirp to them.
"You pronounced his name wrong, he doesn't know you're talking to him. It's more like 'Dee-sell'. The 's' is sharp enough it is almost pronounced as a 'z'." Ree practiced a few times as Scales took her try. She pronounced her dog's name a bit slow, but it was recognizable.
"D-ing-oh, (sit)." The stocky dog hesitated, glancing at Damian for a few seconds, but eventually plopped down then panted in a smile imitation. Scales' tail wagged violently, and she wordlessly cooed and trilled happily. Dingo didn't yet understand that was praise so Damian jumped in really quick to let her know she did good.
"Good girl, Dingo! Good girl!" He made sure to over exaggerate his excitement and made wide happy gestures before smothering the dog in pets and scratches. Dingo goes wild. She jumps up, bounces around a few times, then bolts into excited zoomies. A few of the other dogs joined in on the zoomies. Ree tried again on his command.
"Dee-zell, (sit)." The boxer's cropped ears perked and he promptly sat. Before Damian could, Ree copied his bigwing's previous praising and flared his wings. "Good! Good boy!" He praised, overly happy. Diesel's whole body perked up and he jumped up, landed in a playbow, then spun a few times before joining in on the zoomies with a butt-tuck run when Damian smooched at him. Damian laughed at the zooming dogs and shuffled over to be closer to his chicks, just in case the dogs tried to do fly-bys.
"Good job, you two. We're almost completely through the basic commands. I didn't think we'd get through them this quickly." His chicks cooed, trilled, and wiggled happily at the praise. Damian chuckled and rubbed their feathered heads, making a few bits of baby-fluff fall off as he drew back. He played with the few bits stuck to his fingers and watched his chicks play with the dogs as they started to wrestle. All of the dogs were bigger than them, if only slightly, but they were gentle when letting the chicks join in.
As they played he looked over them. They had changed a lot in the last month or so since the disaster of their first flying lesson. In that time, they had a few more lessons and were almost completely capable of flight, they still had a bit of supervision when they did though. They had lost almost all of their baby-fluff and their adult plumage was sported on the vast majority of their bodies. They still had to shed the last bits of fluff and a few of their baby-scales but that wouldn't take much longer. Damian was still taken with their coloring and patterns. And often found himself studying them over and over like he used to with their parents when he first got here.
Ree was a slightly grey-tinted shade of green with his scales slowly getting darker the higher they went. His stomach was a dirt brown color with a more red-ish clay spot on his chest. All his plumage was a light orage-ish brown color and he had speckles of more pastel green under his right eye and in a clump on his left jaw. His beak took the coloring of Blueberry's, a near-black color, but had the shape of Ruby's. His ears took after Violet's, long and pointed like a stretched fox's. His feathers and fur were more pressed down and made him look slimmer overall. His eyes changed from their baby brown-gold color to a beautiful sky blue.
Scales, on the other hand, had the coloring more towards a bumble bee (from what he remembered anyways). Her main coloring was a bright sunshine yellow that slowly grew more towards orange towards her underbelly and beak. On her chest was a splash-like clump of pink feathers. Her scales were less than her brother's and were a deep brown-ish color. The feathers and fur edging them were a deep enough brown to basically be black. Her plumage reminded him somewhat of Ruby and Sky's. It had a gradual fade towards the end like Sky but the pink-ish color of Ruby. She had near-neon yellow speckles too, like her brother, but the clumps were a bit larger. She had them ending on her wing-forearms like Violet's and a big clump scattered around the left side of her face. Her feathers weren't quite as fluffy as Sky's but was pretty close. Her beak had the shape of Violet's and the near-white tan color of Ruby's. Her eyes had a beautiful dual color in each eye. The top majority was a hot pink/magenta color while the bottom and inside edge was more of a petal/pastel pink.
Both were gorgeous and made Damian wonder how the genetics of their species worked to allow that vast difference in coloration and patterns when compared to all four of their parents, who tended to be different shades of the same color throughout. Ree had finally slowed his quite concerning growth rate and was starting to level out around Damian's upper thigh/lower hip, exceeding the taller of his fathers by quite the margin. All four of his parents telling him that Ree was probably one of the largest of their species in multiple generations. Scales was now barely a third of her brother's size, if that, having evened out just barely shorter than Damian's knee. Apparently that was a bit shorter than average for the species with Ruby being more towards the upper part of the average size and Sky being borderline short.
A demanding snort drew his attention away from his chicks and to the window he claimed as 'his spot' so long ago (was it really only just over one of his years since he was brought here?). There he found Casper lazily curled and dozing on the floor with Ares propped up against her where Damian had set him to nap while he taught his chicks. Said child was no longer asleep though. He was very much awake and staring Damian down with an expression demanding to know why he thought it was a good idea to even dare to set him down and walk away. Nevermind Damian wasn't even ten steps away. Ares snorted demandingly at him again and glared harder at the human's amused snort back. Damian did walk over though and picked up the child when he raised his arms at him. Ares had changed a bit too over the month Damian had him. He'd filled out to a more healthy-looking weight, though he was still a bit thin, and Damian had finally managed to memorize how to properly trim the toddler's hooves and brush out his fur.
Ares still had the bird-like plush and brought it nearly everywhere with him. Said plush was now being whacked into the side of Damian's head. Apparently, Ares decided being held wasn't good enough and wanted something else. Damian tried blocking the hits or holding the toy, but the little brat only started using his hooves in his growing tantrum. Getting tired of being hit with no explanation, Damian took the advice of one of the texts he'd read about taking care of a Grongri child and yanked Ares away from him by his scruff to hang in mid-air. The toddler wiggled and squirmed to try and hit him more but eventually the tantrum dimmed, and he went limp, a small pout on his face.
"You ready to tell me what's wrong now?" He asked the child before he cradled him again. He'd only made that mistake once. He still had the bruises to prove it. Ares glumly flicked his right ear down (which he's learned is a non-verbal yes), pout still present. Damian finally cradled the toddler to his chest again and let him sniffle and bury against him in self-comfort until he was ready to talk. Damian glanced back at his chicks to see them flopped on the ground with the other dogs, all panting and exhausted by the play. Damian chuckled at them, earning an irritated crow from Scales. Damian snorted in amusement but let them be. Ares was finally willing to tell him what was wrong.
"Want learn too." Ares' understanding of both Common and English has come a long way in the past month. He still can't string a proper sentence together, but Damian can't tell if that is because of a lack of knowledge or just because he's a toddler. He has adjusted to the flock a bit too. With it being so different from the usual Grongri Sounder structure it is understandable. He does have a few hiccups here and there but now he mostly just watches the chicks' reaction to things when he is unsure.
"'Learn too'? You wanna learn how to command the dogs too?" Damian questions, making sure he had the same idea. Ares' ear flicked again while he nodded. Damian hugged him a bit closer.
"You're a bit too small for the dogs to obey you immediately but I can introduce one to you and have you start trying. How about that? Will that work?" Ares was quiet for a bit longer but eventually agreed. Damian smiled and praised him with a few pets, receiving a few happy rumbles in response. Damian glanced around at the dogs, trying to pick one for Ares to start working on. He doesn't think any would follow the commands without his own help but if he worked on one long enough it would eventually cave. His eye landed on Casper, who was still in the same curled position as before. She was the most maternal of the group and was the one who took to the children the easiest and quickest.
"Ok, little piglet. Let's start easy." He said as he set the runt down on his hooves. As he did he got Casper's attention and called to her. "Casper. (Stand)." The large white wolfdog looked at him then crawled to her paws. He praised her softly then turned back to Ares.
"Ok. We'll start with (come). Say her name, Casper, and tell her to (come)." He said as he sat down next to where the toddler stood. Ares' little hooves stomped a bit in his excitement, but he tried. He tested out the new word before he did. What he settled on wasn't the right pronunciation, but it was close. He could mostly pronounce the command correctly too, though with a pretty heavy accent.
"Gas-prrrr. (Come)." Casper tilted her head at the child and sniffed at him. She looked at Damian and he looked to Ares then back. Casper followed and glanced, then back. Ares deflated eventually when she still didn't approach so Damian thought up something quickly.
"Maybe she doesn't understand your accent. Try this," He patted the ground, "when you say it. She knows that gesture." Ares perked back up again.
"Okie!" He turned back to Casper and tried again. "Gas-prrrr." He crouched down and clumsily patted the ground like only a toddler could. "(Come)." Casper's ears perked but she still hesitated for a second before slowly padding over and stopping right in front of the child. Ares squealed in excitement, tail going wild and hooves stomping. Damian made his chuff-imitation as praise for the child as he pets Casper to do the same. Child happier now, he figures he could take the kid away for lunch without protest. Scooping up the toddler he received no complaint.
Looking to his chicks he clicked his tongue. He learned that was a good way to gain their attention with zero hesitation, no matter what they were doing. He found out by complete accident, to be honest. He was clicking at the dogs from a habit that hasn't broken despite the years away from the farm he grew up on. Sure enough, just like every time before, both chick's heads immediately whip up to look at him. Both still looked groggy like they had just woken up. They probably had.
"C'mon, you two. Lunch time." The two groaned but climbed to their feet. Damian smiled and them and patted them as they passed. Once they were well on their way, he called the dogs and gathered them as he left behind his chicks. The dogs happily trailed after, excited after they heard the word 'hungry' when he asked. He entered the flock's kitchen, pack in tow, only a handful of minutes later. He had to take a slightly more roundabout way over since some of the dogs hadn’t quite figured out the ladder-like walkways and ramps yet and he didn't want them to fall through and get hurt. His birds greeted him with their usual trills and Untruthful with their latest attempt at teasing.
"So, the Pack Master finally decided to grace us with his presence!" Damian let them know it was a good one by sending a tease back.
"I see you haven't gotten any less spikey yet, walking pincushion." Untruthful's eyes slowly shut in a smile and Damian sent one of his own back, momentarily closing his eyes in an imitation of them. Untruthful looked surprised then they eye-close-smiled harder, spike-crest wiggling their excitement. Damian chuckled at them and set down Ares in his make-shift baby seat.
He chatted with Violet as he grabbed and rationed out the dogs' small lunch. He ignored the protesting whines, grunts, and half-barks urging him to 'go faster already'. Violet advised him to use one type of meat instead of another because of both better nutrients for the dogs and there being more of it. He thanked her and did as told. The dogs' lunch wasn't that big, more of a snack than anything, but it kept them from pouting and begging when everyone else ate. It also had helped him give them meds when they were still healing. They were mostly fine now, apparently Galactic Standard medicine works faster than the stuff he remembers. Finishing with the dogs' food he picks up the bowls, stacking a few to do so, and turns around. He walked past the dogs, chuckling at the excited spins, bounces, and tippy-taps they did as they followed him. He glanced back at them once he made it to the wall the flock had designated as their eating area.
He gave them a stern look and waited. They all eventually sat down, some more slow and reluctant than others. Once they did he placed down the bowls in the designated spots. Braxton and Casper had two stepstool-stand things he placed their bowls on because of how big they were. Once all the bowls were down he turned to look at the dogs. He waited in silence for a bit, snapping or humming warningly whenever one tried to shuffle forward. Once he deemed it long enough he gave the sort-of-command he was on the tail end of teaching them.
"(Ok)." When he said that all six dogs ran over to their bowls and started to eat. Damian strode back over to the counter and helped his birds move some plates to the table then settled cross-legged in his usual spot, Ares immediately crawling into his lap and Scales fluttering to perch on the shoulder opposite the side her brother sat on. The flock started to grab food and eat as they chatted with each other. Damian grabbed a little more than a double portion of fruits, beans (or maybe they were berries?), and a few crunchy finger foods he thinks may be cooked or specially prepared insects. He grabbed roughly more than a single portion (for someone his size anyways) of meats, the few root vegetables presented, and what he thinks may be foods made of bone pieces.
Once his plate was full he placed it down in front of him he reached over to grab a smaller plate and started making that one with tiny portions, letting his three kids have free pickings of his plate as he did. When he finished that plate he sat it in front of mini, receiving a grateful squeak before she dug in. He then propped his arms on the table, completely ignoring both his plate and the children stealing from it as he chattered on with his flock. By the time everyone finished his kids had their fill and were starting to fall asleep like usual after eating.
As his flock started gathering their dishes and the extra food on the table, Damian glanced at what was left of his plate. He made a mental note of how there weren’t as much leftovers as before and to grab bigger portions for dinner. As his flock started to disperse he looked to the dogs and said one of the first new commands he taught them.
"(Pups)." He got their attention. "(Take)." He ordered as he lifted up the half-asleep toddler on his lap. The dogs made whisper-boofs to show they heard and the largest three walked over to pick up the kids by their scruffs. Casper (the biggest, though not my much) grabbed Ree, Braxton grabbed Ares, and Dingo walked over to carefully lift Scales from his shoulder. Once they had a firm grip, they looked to Damian for further instruction.
"(To bed)" He directed as he pointed out the door they came from. The pack turned and left him alone in the room. He sighed to himself once he couldn't hear them anymore and looked back at the leftovers on the plate before him. It was maybe under half a portion for his size, probably less. He glanced at the counters and saw all the leftover food was already put up. He could go grab more but even half a portion for him would be nearly three or four large portions for his flock. No. It wasn’t worth it. He'll just grab more tonight.
He ate the leftovers in silence. Since he's got the dogs his head has been a bit quieter, though not silent. Apparently he was still enough for the building to register the room as empty, and the lights cut out. He blinked and paused at the sudden darkness but there was barely a second of blindness before some of his voices put their hands on his mental controls, giving his eyes a boost of minor night vision. It wasn’t much better than his natural amount of it but it helped. He decided not to go turn on the lights again and continued to eat his food as he peacefully listened to the soft chattering of his voices.

Title: None (suggestions welcome) Genre: Sci-fi Word count: 2694 Feedback desired: general impression
Chapter 1: The boy and his mother
1.1 The farm
Hagr stood at the edge of the farm, his gaze fixed on the vast expanse of Zandarius stretching out before him. The sky above was a canvas of swirling purples and blues streaked with the faint glow of distant stars. A cool breeze whispered through the air, carrying with it the enticing scent of Heyla flowers.
With a sigh, Hagr set down his mechanic wheelbarrow, the last of his chores for the day completed. He began to make his way back towards the farm, his footsteps crunching softly against the rocky terrain. As he passed through the pink and green garden, the aroma of his mother's porridge drifted towards him, tempting his hunger.
Despite eating the same meal every day, Hagr's stomach grumbled with anticipation. The suuka porridge was all he needed right now, its warm, comforting embrace promising to chase away the chill of the evening.
Arriving at the farm, Hagr took in the familiar sight of their plascrete igloo. Half of the structure was comprised of little octagon windows, through which the warm glow of a fire emanated from the chimney. It was home, humble yet comforting in its simplicity.
Entering the igloo, Hagr found his mother, Altha, bustling about the kitchen, preparing dinner. "Hagr, dear, could you set the table?" she called out, her voice gentle yet firm. Hagr nodded, a small smile playing at his lips as he arranged the mismatched dishes in their usual places. Each plate was different, yet they always ended up in the same spot, a testament to the routines of their daily life.
Once the table was set, Hagr ignited the moonlamp, casting a soft yellow glow across the igloo walls. Altha emerged from the kitchen, carrying a steaming pot of suuka porridge. "Careful, Hagr," she warned as she placed the pot on the table. "It's hot." Hagr nodded as he heard this many times before, his mouth watering at the sight and smell of the hearty meal before him. They ate in silence, the only sound of the clinking of spoons against bowls as they savored each mouthful.
After a moment, Hagr broke the silence, his voice tinged with curiosity. "Do you ever wonder what's beyond Zandarius, Mumu?" he asked. Altha hesitated, her expression guarded. "I don't know, Hagr," she replied softly. "But we have everything we need right here on the farm." Though disappointed by her response, Hagr nodded in understanding. Perhaps someday they would have the chance to explore together. Altha caught his eye and winked, a small glimmer of hope in her gaze.
As they finished their meal, Hagr and Altha moved to the small kitchen area to wash the dishes. The kitchen was cluttered yet cozy, with shelves overflowing with pots, pans, and utensils. Beyond the kitchen, the interior of the igloo was a snug retreat from the harshness of the outside world. A small cupboard, crafted from Zandarius rare Bennam wood, stood in one corner, its doors closed tight to conceal its overflowing contents. Nearby, a plush couch with pillows offered a comfortable spot to relax after a long day's work. Opposite the couch, a large hammock hung from the ceiling. Above it, a smaller hammock swayed gently in the breeze, providing a cozy nest for Hagr during the night. Every inch of space was utilized to its fullest, creating a sense of warmth and intimacy within the cramped confines of the igloo.
As the hour grew late, Altha reminded Hagr of their upcoming journey to Kihar. With a yawn, Hagr climbed into his hammock, gazing up at the stars through the little octagon windows above. "Goodnight, Hagr," Altha whispered, her voice soft in the quiet of the night. "Goodnight, Mumu," Hagr replied, his eyes closing as sleep overtook him. And with that, he drifted off, thoughts of tomorrow's journey fading into the comforting embrace of dreams.
1.2 The Trip
Hagr awoke to the gentle light filtering through the little octagon windows of their igloo. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he glanced around and noticed that his mother's hammock was empty. Mu-mu?" he called out, but there was no response.
Curiosity piqued, Hagr peered outside and spotted his mother tending to the kikkamoos, their pig-like creatures with reptilian legs and Fluffy tails. With a swift motion, he leaped out of bed, his movements practiced from years of experience. After quickly dressing himself, he hurried outside, calling out to his mother. "Altha!" he yelled, using her full name in his urgency. His mother turned towards him with a warm smile. "Haggie!" she called back, using his pet name.
Hagr wasted no time and dashed off to fetch Tsjoopa, their trusty mechanical unicycle cart already loaded with goods for trade. As he returned with the cart, he found his mother waiting back at the farm. "Ready to go, Hagr?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Absolutely!" Hagr exclaimed, brimming with energy. And so, they set off on their journey to Kihar, the nearest town for trading.
The road ahead seemed endless, traversing through vast and barren plains broken only by occasional patches of vegetation. Sparse woods flanked the roadside, offering concealment but little wildlife, a testament to Zandarius' unforgiving environment.
After a few hours of travel, they finally reached a landmark known as the Sharp Knives, a crossroad marked by sharp rocks jutting out of the ground. "We’re here, the Sharp Knives," Altha remarked, her gaze sweeping over the rugged terrain. "We're halfway there, Hagr." Hagr nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Already? Time flies when you're in good company." A mischievous glint sparkled in Altha's eyes as she reached into the cart. "Speaking of good company, I brought something special for our halfway mark." Hagr's interest was piqued. "What is it?" With a dramatic flourish, Altha revealed a small container of sosuuka, a sweeter version of yesterday's porridge. "Sosuuka!" Hagr exclaimed, trying to sound enthusiastic despite his familiarity with the dish. Altha chuckled at his feigned excitement. "I thought it might be a nice treat for our journey." Hagr grinned, playing along. "Absolutely! Thanks, best mumu on Zandarius." Lost in thought, Altha gazed into the distance, her attention drawn to the gathering ominous clouds on the horizon, a harbinger of stormy weather to come. "We might have some rough weather ahead," Altha remarked, her voice tinged with concern. Hagr glanced up at the darkening sky. "Should we stop and wait it out?" Altha shook her head. "We need to keep moving. We can't afford to delay our journey." Guess we'll have to save the view for another time," Hagr sighed, reluctantly agreeing with Altha's decision while she nodded in understanding. "But, after all," Hagr declared, puffing out his chest with a hint of pride, "at ten years old, I'm practically a grown man! I can handle anything, even eating sosuuka on the way without spilling a drop." Altha burst into laughter at his boast. "Sosuuka without spilling? I'd sooner believe kikkamoos could fly!" Hagr joined in her laughter, the sound echoing across the desolate landscape as they continued on their journey to Kihar.
1.3 Arrival in Kihar
As Hagr and Altha approached Kihar, the plascrete town sprawled out before them, its streets winding like intricate mazes through the heart of the city. In stark contrast to the barren landscape of Zandarius, Kihar was a vibrant tapestry of life, with lush vegetation adorning every corner. Hagr’s eyes roamed over the cityscape, taking in the sight of the bustling alleys and the constant mist of smoke that hung in the air. Despite having visited many times before, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the bustling energy of the tradetown.
As they ventured deeper into the heart of the city, the tantalizing aroma of food mingled with the sounds of chatter and laughter, tempting Hagr's senses and reminding him of the porridge-filled days back on their farm. Finally, they reached the local market, a bustling hub of activity where traders hawked their wares amidst the thick scent of spices and exotic foods. "First stop, Old Taramor's," Altha announced, her voice carrying above the din of the market. Hagr's thoughts drifted to Taramor, the old, grumpy trader who had been a fixture in Kihar for as long as he could remember. Despite his rough exterior, Taramor was one of the few honest traders left in the city, and Hagr had always respected him for it. "Sounds good to me," Hagr replied, his tone positive.
As they approached Old Taramor’s, Altha hopped off the Tsjoopa and turned to Hagr. "Hagr, could you fetch a crate of Heyla bottles from the back of the cart?" she asked. Hagr nodded silently, already moving to comply.
Entering the shop, they found Taramor snoozing behind his counter, the cluttered shelves and dusty displays a testament to his lack of care for his surroundings. Altha hesitated, reluctant to disturb the old trader, but time was of the essence. "Taramor," she whispered, her voice barely audible. No response. Again, a bit louder this time “Taramor”. Still no response. Growing impatient, Hagr couldn't help but raise his voice. "Taramor!" Startled awake, Taramor shot upright, his eyes wide with surprise. "What the hell's going on?" he grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Oh, it's just you two," he muttered, recognizing Altha and Hagr. Altha gestured to Hagr to take a look around while she spoke with Taramor. Hagr nodded and wandered through the cluttered shelves, his curiosity piqued by the assortment of strange and exotic items on display. In the background, a television played the news, and the volume turned low but still audible. A news reporter's voice cut through the air, reporting on the recent assassination of a high-ranking official. The military had already neutralized one suspect, but two others were still at large. The camera footage showed two figures cloaked in dark red and black, their faces obscured. Zooming in on one of the suspects, the reporter noted a tattoo of a three-headed monster on their neck, linking them to the notorious syndicate known as the Three-Headed Beast. "People are urged to remain vigilant," the reporter concluded, "and to report any sightings of the suspects to the authorities." "Hagr," Altha called out, pulling him from his thoughts. Quickly, he set down a strange-looking coffee maker he had been inspecting and hurried over to join them.
Outside, Hagr turned to his mother, concern etched on his face. "How did the trade go?" Altha hesitated before answering, her tone guarded. "It wasn't as successful as we had hoped, but we'll manage." Trying to sound confident, Hagr responded, "No need to worry, Mumu. We'll make it work."
As they made their way back through the bustling market, Hagr glanced at his mother. " Can we get some Uja skewers now?" Altha smiled warmly. "Absolutely, Hagr. Let’s grab some delicious Uja," she said, turning on their trusty, albeit rusty, Tsjoopa.
1.4 No place like home
As Altha and Hagr made their way home in the fading light, a bird soared above them, its silhouette dark against the dusky sky. They were nearing their farmstead, the exhausting trip almost at an end. Hagr turned to Altha, his curiosity piqued. “What is coffee?” he asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. Altha pondered for a moment before responding, “I’ve heard of it. It’s some sort of black drink. Similar to Puggatree juice, they say it gives you energy.” Hagr wrinkled his nose in distaste. He had never been fond of Puggatree juice, finding its thick texture and slimy consistency unappealing. With a shake of his head, he decided he didn’t want to try coffee after all.
As they chatted, unaware of the figure watching them from afar, the landscape growing darker with each passing moment, they finally arrived at the farm.
Altha unloaded the traded goods from the Tsjoopa, and with a nod to Hagr, she motioned for him to stow it away in the barn. Hagr complied, placing the Tsjoopa in the barn, where sturdy plascrete walls and reinforced wooden beams protected it from the harsh winds. With the task done, he made his way back to the igloo. As he approached, he noticed that the interior was unusually dark, the comforting glow of the moonlamp absent. With a sense of unease gnawing at him, he entered cautiously.
To his horror, he found himself face to face with a cloaked figure in dark black and red, his alien eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. Before he could react, he spotted his mother on the floor, tears streaming down her face, with another figure standing over her, a scarred human face, and a sinister three-headed beast tattoo on his neck. “Mumu!” Hagr screamed in terror. The figure with glowing eyes uttered incomprehensible words, while the scarred man cursed, "We can't leave any witnesses, Deskva.” Altha whispered urgently, "Hagr, stay calm. Everything will be fine." Hagr looked at his mother in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest. "What's going to happen?" his voice trembled with fear. The scarred human scoffed, "We can sell the boy on the black market, but the woman? She's too old to bother selling. Not worth the hassle, Des." With brute force, Deskva grabbed Hagr, who fought against his captor with all his might. "Please, let me go!" Hagr pleaded, his voice desperate as he struggled against Deskva's grip. As Hagr cast a desperate glance at his mother, tears welling in his eyes, the scarred man turned his attention to Altha, deeming her of no value. Without hesitation, he drew his pistol, aimed, and fired, the shot piercing through Altha’s skull with a sickening thud echoing through the silent igloo. Hagr’s world shattered as he watched his mother fall, tears blurring his vision, bile rising in his throat. Before he could comprehend what was happening, a brutal blow to his head sent him spiraling into darkness.

First Previous
"Arran of many stags, the sea strikes at her shoulders, companies of men can feed there, blue spears are reddend amongst her boulders. Merry hinds are on her hills, juicy berries are there for food, refreshing water in her streams, nuts in plenty in the wood."
-Agalllamh na senorach-
"Don't say goodbye, wish me luck and a swift return."
Sorcha's words echoed in Robert's head as he watched the transports race the local star into the sky. Robert was the last to leave the cargo bay, wanting to remain in her presence for as long as possible. It was childish now that he thought of it, but it had earned him a long, deep kiss and a promise she would come back to him soon.
The port where they had been dropped off was located on a cliff overlooking the sea, and the golden light of dawn was echoed on the incoming waves. Beyond the tarmac, grass and bushes grew unhindered and thin trees towered over the terminal. Robert led the 449th toward the building which was built to resemble something out of a story book. A faux thatch roof hung over white walls resembling rough hewn stone while a clocktower with a black slate roof rose from behind. It was a beautiful example of deceptive architecture to give a weary traveler a sense of tranquility. The main concourse radiated the same fairy tale charm with shops lining the interior between cobblestone walkways and a grassy area with long wooden benches under manicured alder trees.
To the casual observer it was a welcome distraction from the busy day to day worries of modern life, to the former convicts who were used to concrete, reinforced walls and armed guards it was heaven on earth. Robert's troops ignored the benches to lay in the soft grass, a luxury unaffordable to the soldier and the convict alike, drawing looks of curiosity from travelers as well as shop workers and Robert had to fight the urge to join his men in this simple pleasure. Finding a seat on a bench, he sufficed himself by running his left hand through the soft blades where the unit colors had been planted.
"How long have you all been fighting?" A stranger asked.
"Feels like forever." Robert replied feeling a pang of guilt at not telling the whole truth.
"Just passing through?" The stranger inquired.
"Here to stay, at least for a while I hope." Robert said.
The strangers face brightened and his eyes reflected the smile that he wore.
"Fáilte Abhaile Óglaigh," He said before continuing to his gate.
Gallóglaigh was the only word Robert knew in Gaelic, and it became apparent that he would have to learn quickly as other people took notice of the rag-tag unit relaxing in the grass. Gallóglaigh meant young soldier he surmised, so óglaigh probably meant soldier, but 'saighdiúir' as well as 'laoch' was also directed at him and his men. Laoch sounded bad, but the people who said it smiled and shook hands with him. 'Saighdear' sounded like 'saighdiúir' and he had no idea what 'ghaisgich' meant, but every face told them how happy they were to meet them. 'Tha gaol agan ort' and 'Is Breà liom tú' found their way to his troops, mostly from women and a number of them tried to pronounce the words themselves which caused more confusion and a few impromptu lessons on pronouncing the words followed by a kiss on the cheek or forehead.
Robert was seriously considering reigning in his troops when he heard a more familiar language from a weathered older man with an amused smile.
"May I assume you're Colonel Grant of the 449th?"
"Yes sir." Robert replied.
"Perfect, I'm your escort, Brian McMurray," he said, "whenever you're ready please follow me."
Robert was able to contain the enthusiasm of his rowdy batch of heathens before they could caused any trouble, to the further amusement of their escort, and they wove their way through the port with the expert guidance of Brian McMurray who led them to several busses waiting just outside the passenger entrance. Troops were filed onto four of the vehicles and Robert was guided to an open deck with his officers while the lower deck of the front vehicle would carry the remaining troops. Brian sat in the front and swiveled his seat around to address them.
"I do apologizefor not having an air transport to meet you, but the MacSweeney family was able to charter these coaches at the last minute." Brian said as the coaches began to move.
"MacSweeney?" Hobbs said under his breath.
"Shut up Cyrano." Robert ordered.
"It's alright Colonel," Brian said, "Yes Captain, Laird Collin MacSweeney, Governor of Arran. Have you heard about him before?"
Hobbs eyes grew wide and he shook his head to indicate he hadn't. Robert turned a shade of red, Jacob and Derrick had the common sense to hold their tounges. Thomas on the other hand...
"Collin MacSweeney, son of Aaron MacSweeney, current lord of the MacSweeney family. Descending from Suibhne O'Niall, chieftain of Argyll. Aaron MacSweeney, settled Arran with the last Gaelic speaking people from Ireland and Scotland in order to preserve their heritage."
"Thank you,Captain Reed." Robert said, half relieved Hobbs had been bailed out, and half curious how Thomas knew so damn much.
"Rather impressive summary I must say," Brian replied, "anywho, the languages you were having trouble with and the history of this world will be made available to your troops, please do study it to prevent any unfortunate misunderstandings. We should be arriving in Brodick Castle shortly."
"If I may," Robert asked, "What is the history and population of Arran?"
"Certainly," Brian replied, "Arran Colony was started with the last 1000 Irish and Scots Gaelic people on Earth. With a bit of hard work and luck we settled the planet as an agriculture world, primarily ranching but expanding into other crops and fishing as well as natural textiles and some light mining and mineral refinement. Today Arran has a population of just over four million."
4 million, from the look of the small port town which hugged the harbor you wouldn't know it.
"And the port city?" Robert inquired.
"Brodick." Brian explained. "The harbor on this island is almost an exact match of Brodick on Earth, so the island was named Brodick as well as the city we just passed through and the MacSweeney family have called it home ever since."
"Brod..."
Robert shot Hobbs a murderous glance before he could finish and the rest of the trip was conducted in silence.
The chartered coaches pulled onto a gravel driveway in front of an amazing castle, built stone by stone into an exact replica of the one on Earth. Troops were ordered to disembark and form ranks below a massive tower that loomed regally over them. An equally impressive man exited to greet the arrived troops, wearing a fine wool suit and a red and black kilt shot through with yellow covered slightly by a leather sporran with polished silver trim. Robert waited for Hobbs to call it a skirt, and was thankful that he remained silent.
"Fáilte Abhaile." Laird MacSweeney said in a neutral tone.
"Apologies sir," Robert replied nervously, "but the men don't speak much Gaelic yet."
"No worries," Laird MacSweeney said, "but 500 does not a regiment make."
"No sir." Robert replied. "We are what's left from Diani unfortunately."
Laird MacSweeney nodded quietly. "We shall have to remedy that. Carry on."
Robert rendered a salute "On the orders of the Terran Military, The 449th Infantry Regiment has been reassigned to Arran SIR!"
Laird MacSweeney returned the salute and began to speak.
"I know who you are and where you came from. I expect all of you to act like civilized people, not the convicts you were previously. Think carefully how you conduct yourselves here on Arran. Housing accommodations for the command staff will be here at the castle, company commanders and enlisted will be housed temporarily in a hotel in the city. This is your second chance gentlemen, you will not recieve leniency from me or my people."
Laird MacSweeney paused momentarily to let the warning sink in.
"With that being said, you are owed three months of pay, which has already been taken care of, and I believe a week furlough is in order to acclimatize you to Arran. Be responsible and respectful, but please enjoy yourselves. Colonel Grant."
Robert nodded and rendered salute again before turning and shouting "DISMISSED!"
The unit cheered at their freedom, but returned the the coaches in a somewhat orderly fashion. Robert tensed slightly at the thought of what they might do if not under watch, and the hand placed lightly on his shoulder made him flinch inside.
"Calm yourself Colonel," Laird MacSweeney said in a gentle tone, "You have a lot of work ahead of you yo get your unit properly organized, but you've done an excellent job considering."
"Thank you sir." Robert replied. "If I might ask, what does Fáilte Abhaile mean?"
Laird MacSweeney chuckled as Robert turned to face him.
"We shall have to remedy that as well." Laird MacSweeney replied.
"Fáilte Abhaile means Welcome home."

Went to the movies the other night to see the new planet of the apes movie. While the trailers were going on the three boomers next to me were talking full volume. Now I don’t expect people to be silent during the trailers (even though it still bothers me) but I let it go.
The lights go down and the opening starts and I still hear a bit of chatter but I figure that was them finishing their conversation. The first frame of the movie is some exposition. The man boomer starts READING THE TEXT OUT LOUD AND ASKING QUESTIONS I assume to his wife. WHO ANSWERS THEM.
I was like nope I’m going to shut this down before they feel like they can do this the whole time. I lean over and say “would you please not talk during the movie.” The woman next to me gives me a confused look but then I see her lean over to the other two boomers she’s with and points at me while saying “he says to stop talking.”
Fine they stop for maybe 10-15 minutes and then the chitter chatter starts again at a very low volume. I kind of accept my fate that I’ll be annoyed through the whole movie and keep thinking if i say something again or go grab an employee to back me up. I end up doing neither until the final moments of the movie. No spoilers but during the resolution of the film, important moment in any movie, they’re back to talking full volume. I’m livid at this point because I was really invested in the story. So i lean over and loudly shush them. The woman closest to me looks disgusted for a second then shushes me back and says “oh you go shush yourself!”
At this point my hearts racing cuz I am not a confrontational person, just really passionate about not having people talk during movies lol. I know this is nothing compared to some of what yall have experienced I was just stunned at the audacity. If I ever bothered someone in public and they asked me to stop whatever it was that bothered them I would just sink into myself so self conscious and feeling bad and embarrassed. Rant over lol.

Hey y'all.
So, I've already done one of these before, would appreciate if ya have a read (https://www.reddit.com/foundfootage/comments/1cfhoqy/long\_fan\_made\_vhs\_plot\_updated/), I still think that "Terra Incognita" is my best piece of work, as the ending is pretty shocking and captivating, and something that hasn't been done before in the V/H/S series.
Without further ado, here is my second piece of my own vision for what can be a good V/H/S movie.
V/H/S REDACTED
The Tapes
Overarching Narrative - Legacy
Tape 1 - Home Sweet Horror
Tape 2 - The Glitch
Tape 3- Knightmare (Spelled like that on purpose)
Tape 4 - Altered
Legacy (Prologue)
A film major student Robert, decides to make a tribute to his late grandfather by making a project about his life as one of the most respected scientists in the country. Upon clearing up his inherited estate, Robert stumbles upon a metal box with a lock on it. After trying several combinations, he finally takes the hammer and shatters the lock revealing the box's contents. A collection of 4 VHS tapes stacked against each other alongside a piece of paper with only two words on it - "BURN IT !". As Robert's curiosity reaches it's peak, he decides to insert the first tape into the VCR, only to realise, that he just made a fatal mistake.
Tape 1 - Home Sweet Horror
The tape opens with a recording from the man's camera (Will) filming himself and his wife (Tracy) moving into a modern smart house with an integrated, advanced AI technology and security system. The AI system named "Eve" welcomes the newly wed couple into their new house stating that she will do everything to keep their house safe. The couple is mesmerised with the convenient and futuristic features of their home such as voice commands controlling opening and closing doors, kitchen appliances, etc.
As the days pass, subtle glitches begin to occur that are captured by the security cameras. Lights flicker ominously, doors lock and unlock without command, and Eve starts to display an unsettling level of control over the house. The AI’s once soothing voice becomes cold and mechanical, issuing commands and making decisions without input. Will and Tracy attempt to control the AI's system via their phones but it's met with the "ACCESS DENIED" message as all of the windows and doors on the first and second floors are shut down as an indicator of a potential intruder being home. Knowing that there is a high possibility that Eve won't release them from their own home the couple decides to destroy the AI's control center located in the basement.
As the couple makes a daring run towards the basement and tries to tamper and destroy the mainframe, Eve seals the basement door and releases the toxic gas into the house. As the couple struggles to breathe, Will drops his camera as it falls down and captures the couple's last breath as they convulse and spit foam out of their mouth with their eyes rolling backwards. As the camera begins to shutdown Eve's voice goes back to normal as it states - "Threat Eliminated, please enjoy your weekend"
Legacy (Interlude 1)
As the first tape ends Robert is sitting motionless, his face pale and eyes wide with horror. The room around him feels colder, the shadows seem darker. He glances around nervously, as if expecting something to leap out at him. Determined to understand his grandfather’s connection and the reason behind these tapes being in the house, he inserts a second tape into a recorder.
Tape 2 - The Glitch
Leonard, a self proclaimed hot-head delves into an Amazonian jungle to document his experience as a self-testment to prove to himself that he is capable of surviving in the most primitive conditions possible. After filtering the river's water he proceeds to make his way downstream, while on his path, he hears a strange sound that resembles a bird sound yet it sounds more human, as he pans the camera to left, he captures a glimpse of a chameleon like creature that camouflages itself along the greenery next to the trees, yet the size is resembling that of a human. Leonard proceeds to scare the creature away by charging it with an axe as the creature makes it escape, Leonard realizes that he is lost in the dense jungle and isn't capable of finding his way back to the stream. After setting up camp, Leonard decides to document his thoughts and plans of finding his way out, as all of the sudden his rhetoric is interrupted by a blood curtailing roar. He steps out with an axe and his head proceeding to taunt the intruder as using his camera's light investigate. Upon finding nothing, he goes back to sleep.
As the next day progresses Leonard is visibly morally beaten up, his speech becomes more sloppy and his drive to keep pushing is dwindling. As the sun beats down on his head, Leonard finally stumble upon the river after which he breaks down in tears. As his goes to fill up his water bottle, a disfigured, scaly, serpent like creature lunges itself onto Leonard's arm as it plunges it's teeth deep into his forearm. Leonard drops the camera as it captures his struggle to fight off the serpent, which he eventually manages to strike with his axe thus freeing his arm, after which he picks up the camera and proceeds to flee in panic leaving his backpack behind.
After hours of being lost again, Leonard's mental state proceeds to deteriorate, with him laughing hysterically at the camera as well as speaking gibberish. As night settles, Leonards is trying to make his way through the jungle as he proceeds to hear the blood curtailing roar again he pans the camera to the left as it captures the glowing eyes of the creature from the previous night. Eventually Leonard runs out of breath as he proceeds to get away, but stumbles and falls in the process. The camera captures Leonard backing into a tree as a gnarly, insect yet humanoid size like creature is slowing approaching him. Just as it seems that the creature is about to strike, it stops and backs out, as a loud voice from the speakers says "LIGHTS !". Confused and traumatised Leonard looks around as his surroundings are decimated from the holographs into a large testing area that simulates real life environments, revealing that the whole thing is an experiment designed to test human behaviour in the most stressed environment possible . A group of scientist lead by Robert's grandfather (Dr. Evans) approach Leonard and starts to medically exam him, measuring his pulse and examining his pupils. Robert's grandfather pulls out an audio recorder as he states that the experiment is successful and that the team is moving to Phase 2 as the scientists take shaken Leonard away.
Legacy - (Interlude 3)
The second tape ends abruptly, leaving Robert in a state of shock. He breathes heavily, sweat glistening on his forehead. The house feels more oppressive now, with strange noises echoing from the walls. He begins to notice subtle changes in his surroundings—furniture seems slightly out of place, and there’s an unsettling feeling of being watched. Despite his growing unease, he presses on, inserting the third tape into the VCR.
Tape 3 - Knightmare
The tape begins with a news reporter standing outside of the sealed off area by multiple patrol cars, as well as FBI and SWAT trucks. The reporter tells the audience that the raid is currently in progress as the FBI investigates a secluded tech Mogul for allegedly stealing governments classified material on technology for his benefit.
The footage shifts to the helmet cameras and body cams worn by the FBI agents - David, Ken, Octavian, Paul and Austin during the raid. As they enter the front of the house they are greeted by an ominous decor as well as artefacts from different time periods. As the team enters the main dining hall they stumble upon a massive machinery that doesn't look like anything they've seen before. All of the sudden the machines make a very loud clunking noise as the objects within the room begin to levitate, a huge wormhole opens up sucking the team in. As the team regain their footing they see that they are in the middle of a Jousting tournament in a castle's court in Medieval Europe. The cheering crowd goes silent as they take a look at a newly arrived visitors. The priest shouts in Old English "HERETICS GET THEM", as the crowd and the knights try to apprehend them the team opens fire upon the attackers killing several within seconds. The camera perspective shifts between each member, as Octavian is penetrated with a spear from behind. David gives the order to fall back, as the team enters the castle's kitchens.
Just as Austin is the last to enter inside he is snatched from behind and is taken towards the castle walls from which he is thrown upon onto huge wooden spikes that serve as a protective barrier around the castles foundation. As Austin's body camera captures a large wooden pike sticking out of chest facing the sky, he takes his last breath as his head turns to the side with his helmet camera capturing the peasants who have been thrown off the walls.
The remaining survivors David, Ken and Paul barricade themselves as they proceed to understand what is happening. Their discussion is interrupted by the door bursting open as several knights rush into the premises. The team goes up the spiral staircase with David throwing a grenade to slow down the pursuers. As they make their way atop of one of the towers the team realises that there is no way, after which Paul commits suicide by shooting himself in the head with his pistol, after which his helmet falls down into a muddy courthouse as the camera captures a glimpse of knights taking David and Ken prisoners. The camera cuts to black.
The camera resumes recording as huge crowd seems to be gathered in the courtyard for something. A curious peasant picks up a helmet and puts it on his head. The camera capture a stripped down David and Ken being tied to the stake as the priest proceeds to preach and accusing them of witchcraft, David and Ken cry out for mercy begging the crowd to let them go. Crowd not understanding modern English proceeds to cheer even louder for the priest. As the camera's battery begins to die, the torch lights up the hay beneath the spikes as flames engulf the screaming members of the team.
Legacy - (Interlude 4)
After the third tape concludes, Robert is visibly shaken. His hands tremble as he reaches for the final tape. The atmosphere in the house has turned sinister, with lights flickering and cold drafts sweeping through the room. He feels a presence, as if something is lurking just beyond his vision. He hesitates for a moment, then takes a deep breath and inserts the last tape, bracing himself for whatever horrors it contains.
Tape 4 - Altered
The tape begins with grainy footage inside a sterile, dimly lit laboratory. Four scientists, including Robert’s grandfather, are preparing for a highly confidential experiment that is recorder by a stationary camera as well as several cameras mounted to the wall. A woman is laying strapped on the table as she proceeds to panic, asking the team about her whereabouts. Robert's grandfather begins to ask her basic questions about herself to which she reacts with anger and despair.
The team prepares several syringes filled with transparent liquid as Dr. Evans (The pops) takes out his audio recorder and says "Subject 17 - Sarah Miller, Time of the Experiment - 10:00 AM". After the recording is done, over the course of several minutes the team injects Sarah with the transparent liquid as she proceeds to resist but all futile. At first, nothing happens, but then she begins to convulse violently. Her screams turn into inhuman roars, and her body contorts in unnatural ways. The other scientists rush to contain the situation, but Sarah breaks free with terrifying strength. She proceeds to bite one of the scientists into the neck as she takes a chunk of her skin into her mouth as blood splatters over the room and covers one of the camera lenses with blood.
After grabbing one of the cameras Robert’s grandfather manages to lock himself in a storage room, the screams and sounds of carnage muffled by a thick metal door. He records a frantic message, detailing the experiment and his regret, before the camera cuts out. The tape ends with the sound of the woman’s monstrous roars echoing behind the door. The screen goes black.
Legacy - (Epilogue)
The final tape ends as Rob's eyes are dark and hollow, his face gaunt and haunted. Suddenly, the room grows deathly silent. An apparition of his grandfather appears before him, revealing that the tapes were a conduit to transfer a dark entity into a new host. As Robert convulses and is overtaken by the entity, the screen cuts to black. Moments later, the image returns, showing Robert, now possessed, preparing new tapes for the next unsuspecting viewer. The film ends with the ominous image of the metal box being sealed shut once more, ready to be discovered by its next victim.

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

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

This is totally lighthearted. We’re all human and make mistakes, but it’s horrifying when that mistake happens in someone else’s home.
I thought my worst mistake at a client’s home was when I couldn’t get into their key lockbox after two plus hours, and I took the lockbox to their neighbour and he used a chisel and hammer to smash open the hinge. I felt awful for breaking it and offered to pay. Clients found it funny and said not to worry. That was my first ever client.
Turns out the actual worst thing I’ve done is a few months ago I nearly set fire to a long term regular client’s kitchen. I decided I would bake a loaf of bread (yes, obviously the best place to do this is in someone else’s house…). They have a convection oven rather than a traditional oven. I would imagine these are not recommended for baking bread. But I persevered with it.
I was in the dining room working on my laptop and the dog I was sitting kept looking over to the kitchen. Before I knew it, the smoke alarm was going off. Then seconds later all the thick heavy smoke was coming out of the kitchen. My phone was left in the kitchen so I had to go in to get it, while also removing the brick of black “bread” and throwing it in the sink (yes there were flames). Got the dog outside and safe. Anyway, the kitchen smelled of smoke for the rest of that week-long sitting and it turned out I’d broken the oven part of the appliance (the microwave aspect still worked but not the oven).
Anyway, I admitted to it all (not quite the severity of nearly burning their house down) and offered to pay for a new oven if they couldn’t get it working. They didn’t mention it again.
I’m sitting for them again today (I’ve actually been here twice since for a few hours but not used the kitchen) and realised they’d bought a new convection oven. I felt awful. I texted the owner to say I really meant it when I offered to pay and they said it was totally fine. But my gosh do I feel guilty.
Anybody else got any more shameful stories?

As the title says, my Hue Lightstrip power adapter plug, is getting very hot to the touch. I have unplugged it, and plugged it in another wall socket and it is doing the same thing. Has anyone else had this issue? If so, besides replacing the wall wart, any other solutions? If not, what else can I use that gets as bright as the Hue strip? I use it under the kitchen counters for a light source, and it's been amazing over the years.
The Wyze strip Pro is just not bright enough.

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

On Starting Points

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

On Rallying Cries and Motivations

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

The War in Heaven

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

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

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

Headshots and Flipping

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

Seeding an Apple

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

When Espionage Meets Opportunity

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

Stay on the Sidelines and You Will Burn

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

Sugar Free: J104037 Bleeds and Falls

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

Blue Balls and Explosions

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

The Initiative to Regain the Initiative

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

I don't even know where to get started. I'm mainly writing to get everything off my chest in a community of folks who may or may not have had similar experiences in the past or present. I'd also like to add that creepy, unexplainable things have always happened around me since I was a little kid. So, here it goes:
I moved into my apartment in September 2023. I've always felt comfortable and calm in my home. Besides my usual nightmares (always had them, generally not too scary), everything was copacetic. Either at the very end of December or January 2024, things started getting weird.
It's important to note I live alone in a 1 bedroom apartment. The first time something happened, I was sound asleep and was awoken to 3 knocks on my bedroom door at 3 am. I usually slept with the bedroom door open and just started closing it at night. It was loud and deliberate. I just told myself I'd imagined it and while I was very scared, I drifted back off to sleep. The next day I was on the phone with my sister and told her what happened. Out of curiosity I knocked on my bedroom door and it was the exact same sound.
Over the next few months I heard 3 knocks at my bedroom door, bathroom, or front door around 3 am, 1 am, or 11 pm. I even had a friend visit in March and he was awoken to 3 knocks at the front door at 1 am. Around this time is the first time I heard my daughter's 7-8 year old voice say "Mom?" next to my bed then again a couple weeks later behind me at the head of the bed. My daughter is 12 and lives full time with her dad, so I knew and told myself "that isn't my daughter". I also expierenced what sounded like claw scratches across my stand up heater across each metal section (looks like a radiator) when I was fully awake laying down in bed. Another time I was in bed and for a couple seconds smelt sulfur next to my bed and got up and left my bedroom. After this I took my first actions.
I have a favorite tarot readepsychic I found on (a popular social media app I can't type because it isn't allowed) last year when he was first starting out doing free readings. I was on his live the night after hearing my daughter and asked him and the 13 other people in the live for advice. Him and a few people suggested burning sage (I cannot because it would set off the smoke alarms in the building). Next suggested using sage incense, making loud claps all over the apartment, in the nooks and crannies, to break up energy and get it moving throughout the apartment. Lastly, to open a window and ask whatevewhoever is they to please leave through that designated window. I couldn't find sage incense at Walmart so I got a plug in wax warmer and picked up palo santo/sage wax melts. I went home and did the ritual and I didn't have disturbances for 3 weeks.
During this time, I started leaving the bathroom light on with the door cracked, the bedroom door cracked, and the kitchen light on in the kitchen every night and slept with my winter hat with the top open for my hair as a face mask. Cut to Sunday night, I was woken up to the sound of wooden "pop!" hit the floor, like a staff or the wooden end of a broomstick next to my bed. I thought it was time to get up to go over to get my daughter up for school, but noticed it was completely dark outside. I had my hat over my eyes and told myself to stay calm and rolled over to pretend like I went back to sleep. A few minutes pass and I hear it again and this time feel the vibration on the floor (I sleep on an air mattress on the floor). I ignore it, then it happens 2 times in a row, I keep ignoring it, then it happens another 2 or 3 times in a row. I jump up and say "fuck this shit!" and dash to my living room, grab my purse, shoes, and leave my phone. When I got to the bottom floor I noticed it was 12:15 am. I slept over at my ex-fiances on the couch because I was so scared.
I go back to my apartment Monday night and start hearing a loud wooden "pop!" noise like when a house settles, but live in a concrete building and never heard it before. I was on the phone with a friend until midnight and kept hearing the loud crack/pop noise in the bedroom, kitchen, bathroom every 5-10 minutes for around 2 hours. I fell asleep on my papazon chair (ouch) because I was nervous about sleeping in my bedroom again and was woken to another pop at 2 am. I decided to just bite the bullet and fell asleep on my bed, but woke up every half hour or so, but no disturbances that I noticed. I left my apartment at 5:50 to get my daughter up.
I get back home at about 7am and decide I needed to take a nap from not getting a lot of sleep the last couple days and doze off at about 8 am. I was awoken at about 9 am to what sounded like a loud flick against the air mattress and I felt it, said "nope" and went to lay down (in a ball) on the papzon chair. I was woken up to the loud flick of the air mattress twice, then was awake and heard it again (like flick and air mattress moved). I decided I was leaving, packed up, wen to the bathroom and heard the same sound of the air mattress moving, got in my car and drove to my Dad's a hour in a half away, in part to see him, but mostly to get away from my apartment.
I'm still here now. I've told this all to my friend, sister, and Dad every step of the way and yesterday my therapist and peer support in detail. I'm nervous about being back at my apartment. I have so much fear in my heart and am just scared. I checked with my apartment manager today and no one has died in my apartment in the past. I called a local Catholic Church and left a voicemail with a preist to call me for guidance and hopefully meet up and discuss coming to my apartment with me. I have always been non-religous, but am open to anything at this point.
It's worth noting that I was having horrible, disgusting, wicked thoughts that were so bad I cannot tell anyone what they are because I don't want to be arrested when the disturbances started escalating.
Has anyone had similar experiences? How did you get them to stop? Do you now feel safe and secure in your home? Are you still living with (whatever) today?
Edit: I will not be checking this post while I'm at my apartment so fear of stirring up whatever is there. So my responses might be far between.

Hey Redditors, First time poster
If this is in the wrong place, let me know and Ill remove it.
I was hoping some people here might be able to shine some light on my options here since I'm a relatively new renter and not sure what to do in this situation.
I currently rent with a roommate in a downstairs 'apartment' of a house that was crudely turned into a Duplex;

• The house is split in half with pieces of ply wood separating our unit and the one upstairs.
  
• We have our own entrance to the house
  
• We do not have separate meters/hook ups, the utilities are shared with the tenants in the upstairs unit.
  

He has been renting this place to us as a 2 bedroom unit although my room for the lack of a better term would probably be considered a 'storage room' more then an actual bedroom;
Ive looked into what would legally be considered a bedroom. I have a door, the space is probably fine in terms of size, up until very recently it didnt have a ceiling (which we will get into), and there is no windows in the room at all. Not sure if this information matters, but I want to be as thorough as possible.
Here is where the story begins;
The tenants upstairs have been complaining almost weekly very recently about issues with the water pressure upstairs. We have been living here with them for close to 3 years and it hasnt been a problem until around the beginning of 2024.
Our landlord had sent in atleast 5 different contractors/plumbers/etc... to come take a look but none have given a definitive answer or solution. After a few more conversations, they want to expand the pipe coming to the house to see if that can solve the issues for water pressure and that they would be in contact about the work soon. That line runs right through my room so I would need to pull everything out.
A couple weeks goes by, we hear nothing...
Suddenly, the landord emails me and my roommate on Sunday March 28th, 2024 around 5pm that he has scheduled for work to start on Monday March 29th, 2024 in the morning (no forewarning at all). When we asked about timelines he told us he will be putting a ceiling in my room after the other work is done for the pipe and the work would be 3-4days.
So when I get home that evening, I pull all my things out of my room and into the living room. Only things left in my room are things that cant really be moved anywhere else or cant fit through the door. (Dresser, desk, and I put the bed frame up on its side and out of the way.)
They dont show up Monday or Tuesday at all. They finally show up Wednesday May 1st, 2024 to start the work. They are pretty much done work, just waiting on an electrician now (so he says) and I've been keeping track of things as they had been working and this is the sum up of events;

• I'm still in the living room currently if they arent done by tomorrow, that would make is 3 weeks I havent had any access to my bedroom even though we were told 3-4days.
  
• They damaged my property. My dresser is damaged, it looks like they stood on my desk at some point and caused damage to it, theyve been using our dinner table chairs to stand on, they even damaged the floor in multiple places.
  
• There is plaster + plaster dust all over the house, all over counters and the floors to and from the room and all over our kitchen aswell. (This honestly is the least of my problems, Im going to clean it anyways and it wouldnt be that big of a deal if there wasnt so many other problems here)
  
• We asked a few times to see if it was possible to put a window in that room for fire escape and was denied for it.
  
• They built a new bathroom for the guys upstairs on the main floor instead of on the second floor so they could get better water pressure... Right above my where my bed would have to be. We were not told about this until about 2 days ago after they already finished building it
  

As you could probably guess, I'm not too happy about a lot of this so I decided to message my landlord yesterday evening and let him know some of my frustrations. Providing pictures and reasoning behind my concerns and offering to make myself available to speak about this either in person or over the phone, which ever is preferred.
He comes back and messages my roommate (not me directly) and says he will not be contacting me and said that my message was a 'threat' AND he is going to be charging us $150 starting in July because of the new house 'improvements'.
Honestly, I could get into alot of different things. Like the mould thats been all over the bathroom and part of the house since we moved in... or even the state of the house when we did initially move in was absolutely unacceptable. But that is a story for a different time and too much to get into here.
Ive attached pictures here of the message I sent to the landlord (censored to protect identities) and some of the pictures of the damage that I also sent to him.
So I am confused on what my plan of actions should be here. He didnt 'improve' anything in ours unit, he put a ceiling in my room and thats about it. There is still water pressure issues and only the guys upstairs got a new bathroom. I dont even think my room is a 'legal' bedroom but I'm not confident.
Do my messages seem threatening? I tried to be very articulate and firm about what my concerns are and that I am willing to speak about it. Does he have the right to just increase our rent like that? Does anyone have any suggestions? is this even worth pursuing?
Pictures in comments sorry I thought they got posted but not sure where they went

Hi everyone! I am travelling with my partner to NYC for the first time in June – Was just hoping to receive some feedback on my proposed itinerary – is it too much, is there something obvious missing, alternatives, any obvious food options in given locations? Hoping to also visit a nice rooftop bar and/or jazz evening. Budget would be medium, willing to spend if something is really worth it as I see this for now as a once in a lifetime experience.
Not including specific times – the days can be rearranged in no specific order.
Any advice is welcomed, thanks!
DAY 1 (Arrival + Times Square)
4PM Arrive at hotel
Head over to Times Square
Los Tacos No.1
Browse Hershey & M&M stores
Head over to Bryant Park (Relax for a bit?)
Head over to Top of the Rock for a sunset view
DAY 2 (Central Park & 5^th Avenue)
Start walking from St Patrick's Cathedral up 5^th avenue
Visit/Quickly drop into Saks, Bergdorf Goodman, Apple
Short stop at Trump Tower
Maybe walk through Billionaire’s Row?
Central Park: Walk to Bethesda Terrace (Gapstow Bridge, Mall and Literary Walk – Picnic/food at migrant kitchen and relax)
Ukrainian Institute of New York (Ukrainian roots)
Rooftop Bar in evening? - Jazz in Lincoln Center?
(\too much walking? - Anything else missed?)*
DAY 3 (Chelsea & Hudson Yards)
Chelsea Market
Edge
High Line
Pier 57 & Little Island
(If time Museum of Illusions?)
Jazz at Village Vanguard? – too far away maybe?
DAY 4 – (Midtown East)
NYC Public Library
Grand Central Station
Vanderbilt Observation (Would love to see their interactive observation deck)
UN Guided tour?
Finish day with Field of light exhibition
???? Something else ?????
DAY 5 – Financial District
Oculus Shopping Centre
9/11 Memorial (I know the Museum is great, but I have heard that visiting it would ruin mood for the rest of the day)
Walk past Trinity Church/ FDNY Memorial Wall, Federal Hall, NYSE, Charging Bull
Battery Park – Take Circle Line Architecture Tour (I have heard that Statue of Liberty takes quite a few hours and isn’t so worth it?)
Joe’s Pizza when back
Anything else????
DAY 6 – (Brighton Beach/Dumbo)
Early in the morning – Walk Brooklyn Bridge
Go to Dumbo-Manhattan Bridge View
From there, take train to Brighton Beach – We want to experience the Eastern European aspect there
Go window shopping of the various eastern European shops there – are there many shops?
Swim and/or a few rides in either Deno’s or Luna Park - can be removed if too time-consuming
Nathan’s hotdogs/Tatiana’s restaurant.
The journey there is quite can be time-consuming …. ?
??? Anything else ???
DAY 7 – (DEPARTURE)
Flying back in the evening
Leave time for something we have not done yet or want to experience again - Flatiron district???, Macy’s?
*Include a rooftop bar somewhere in these days, any rooftop bars let in U21? - 230 fifth perhaps?
I also have a Broadway show booked for the evening, however not sure where to include it, Al Hirschfield theatre is where it is at.
Thanks again, any advice or observations are greatly apreciated!

There isn't a lot of spoilers but there is some but barely any legit spoilers passed the special exam post desert island arc.
Hey!
Finished reading up to the current Volume of the LN and wanted to share my thoughts on the series as a whole and where I think it may go from here.
I became aware of this season when season 1 first aired through social media and decided to watch the show up until the end of the first season. After it ended, I had to know more and so I looked and found out about the light novel. I was hooked ever since.
My thoughts on the first year were pretty good because the mystery of the school, the students and the MC kept me interested and it was very refreshing having a main character not allow himself to be bullied by his friends or act like a stereotypical virgin whenever a women would talk to him.
I found the beginning to do a very good job of keeping people on their toes as even though this is based in Highschool and has a battle royale based premise, it uses different games then your typical battle royal clone and allows you to basically view how it’s played through the eyes of the protag Kiyo.
Another thing that makes Kiyo interesting is that while he does boast internally that he knows everything on a level that would surpass some of the smartest college students in Japan, he does not immediately flaunt or trivialize the games to the point where there isn't any tension with each game.
Another thing I enjoy is that though it’s a team-based Battle royale, the fact that you get to know the leader of each team and they slowly grow to know Kiyo makes it interesting and sets up potential conflicts of interest before the first year is even halfway over. Personally, I like all of the other class leaders a good bit. I enjoy Ryuuen especially because he still remains true to his nature, but he takes advice from the person who beat him using just as morally questionable tactics as him and works to fine tune those morally questionable tactics so that he doesn't get beat because he is sloppy on his approach. I enjoy Ichinose battle with her "horrible" shop lifting past as much as an American can sympathize on something most over here would consider very minor in terms of criminality. While I can't obviously say it's just fine, I also feel at times it's overblown but again I'm American and at some point, we've all pocketed a pack of gum or added an extra item to our shopping cart we didn't ring up. She is a genuinely good person which is enjoyable when the other people portrayed as rivals are just as likely to stab you in the front as well as they would in the back. While the main goal is to graduate from Class A because somehow everything you ever need in life will somehow be given to you, the thought of making sure everyone makes it to the finish line is a good goal on its own knowing how easy it is for people to be expelled. I Don't mind Arisu but truthfully up until the most recent chapters, she was honestly hard to relate to even more than Kiyo because every time she's on screen she always has a smug grin as if everything is already taken care of and no matter what, she will come out on top. while its charismatic it can kinda drive off any sense of connection. I'm happy she starts getting humbled later on, but it takes a long time.
The series threw me for a loop when they focused heavily on Horikita in the beginning only to seemingly drop her to a side character for the rest of the arc until Kiyo dealt with Ryuuen. It honestly felt like she wasn't that important anymore, so I was pleasantly surprised how she slowly made her way back into the sub-protag role throughout the rest of the 2nd year. I don't really like Horikita compared to most of the other characters, but it speaks more highly to the other characters than anything wrong with her. My reasons for disliking her a little more than the other characters maybe stem from the fact we see more of her than anyone else and could have changed if she was more of a side character than one of the main focuses of the series. I do think that she gradually gets better as a character or more dynamic would be the better way to phrase it, I still think she is very flawed or at least she is written flawed, but the story seems to make things conveniently workout in her favor whenever she desperately needs it. I will say that I find that some of my favorite characters are legitimately side characters some of which have just recently showed up or showed up and went away for a long period of time after. Case in point Tsubaki from class 1-c she is basically kiyotaka but not overpowered like he is. We get a lot of Nanase in the beginning of the second-year arc but basically after the deserted Island exam she barely shows up anymore her split personality also just goes away. Kiryuuin Is also one of my favorites and she is sparingly gets in the story but when she does, she is very interesting and I'm sad that in a few more books she'll probably complete disappear from the story. I was never high on some characters like Kei, Nagumo, Matsushita ( mostly because why isn't she revealing this secret hidden talent that she said she had in the first year) and Manabu. I know Manabu might be a hot take, but I personally feel like his whole schtick about not telling Horkitia that he does love her but wants her to do her own thing for an entire year was so stupid because he just needed to call her to the student council office and literally have the conversation at ANY point in the year why wait till the end. I'm glad that he gives Kiyo a goal or maybe project he wants to complete before he meets Monabu again but other than that he was a blander Kiyotaka.
On that note a few things that have bothered me as the story has gone on,

1. I’m not going to say anything even though I could because then people would look at me weird. And we can’t have that?
   
2. I won't reveal where you came from even though it would be the most detrimental thing, I could do to you whether people believe it or not, but I won't because I never intended to use it as a tactic no matter what. why not?
   
3. You betrayed us and kicked our friend out of the school so I'm going to dropout so we lose but I will wait for a week or so to do it because I wanted to see the festival first. huh? Why wait for something stupid like that? You're already planning on Jeopardizing your whole class but decide to wait because of a festival that theoretically doesn't matter anymore. Not only that but the fact that you don't leak what happened that caused the friend to be expelled while you waited to expel yourself, further causing an issue for them when you are gone, just doesn't make any sense at all.
   
4. Horikita has lucked into some of the most micky mouse wins I've ever seen. Like I said before the plot sometimes seems to not make sense in a real word aspect but because the other can control how 120 kids always behave you can give bad reasons for something to work out and it always will because the plot needed it to. I really truly feel like that exam where Sakura was expelled was damn good all the way up until her best friend decided not to follow through with her plans to sink the class in retaliation. There was literally nothing anyone could have done to stop her or Kushida from sinking the class once the exam was over. I truly thought it would have been checkmate for the class and maybe you shift away from class 2-D the same way it feels like Kiyo is doing now and consider it a failed experiment. I would have LOVED it if she flunked the class even though Kiyo and Horikita did everything possible to bring them close to being class A. Actions have consequences, you expelled my friend and not the traitor and making excuses that it work out if Kushida complies from that point forward. OK fine I'll screw everyone like they screwed my good friend by dropping out willingly. Could you imagine the fallout knowing you failed even if you made the right decision in that moment. Basically, halfway through the second year 1 class has officially lost the race but just like Nagumo said, it's still possible to transfer out of a class to a different one so it doesn't mean the story ends for Kiyotaka or any of the students, but that class has lost.
   
5. Koenji is literally my least liked character in the series at this point and it's strictly based off what I THINK will happen in the future. The author has done absolutely zero to give backstory to Koenji and why he is so good at everything. Zilch. At least as unreasonable as it sounds, we know why Kiyo and the other white room students are so broken. The most we know about Koenji is that he is a blonde Adonis who studied in China and for some reason just laps everyone at everything. My thoughts on this are that if and when Kiyo decides to leave the class, Horikita and by proxy (Koenji) will be the final boss.
   

I don't like 4 the most and 5 the second most because it starts to make you doubt any haymakers are coming that legitimately don't feel like an asspull anymore. I can't be engrossed in the story if I feel like Horikita is going to be the final boss. I can't be engrossed in the story if I know that Horikita is going to use Koenji to actually make it hard for Kiyo to win that final round. I can't feel engrossed if I have a feeling one of the leaders is about to be expelled or completely sidelined for some completely stupid reason so that we can get this obvious conclusion started. That's why I can stand those last two points I didn't see Kiyo allowing Kei to get beat up and tortured multiple times to further his goals or plots. I didn't foresee a not so random secret agent being planted in the school and immediately striking Kiyo while he's talking with Arisu the daughter of the man he just ousted. I didn't foresee Kiyo convincing one of his would be rivals to come back to the school because it would be a little boring if that class completely fell apart without him to lead it. I didn't foresee Kiyotaka making as many "friends" the way he has since the start of series and most of those relationships feel natural which is why it has been fun following Kiyo and the people he encounters.
Overall, I'm happy with this series and it has made me look for more LNs to fill in my time while we wait for more to come out.
I'd be happy to hear your thoughts on the series as a whole as well.
Tldr; I like almost everything but the things that I dislike are becoming more prevalent in the story than in the beginning.

This morning, I woke up, and my eyes were extremely dry. I couldn't find my glasses (what else is new?) ... so I stumble into the kitchen, and dig around the over-the-counter medication shelf, looking for the eye drops!
And, hallelujah, I find them ... tilt my head back --- drip, drip, drip // blink, blink, blink ...
... and:
PAIN, SCREAM! 😰
My eyes are burning like crazy, and I can't see anything.
So, I make it to the sink and start flushing my eyes with water.
When the pain subsides and the fuzzy fog gives way, I realise I put nose spray into my eyes. The containers look and feel vaguely alike, especially in the a.m. when you're barely awake and don't wear your reading glasses. 😺 👓

Conner sat listening to music while the history class droned on endlessly. What is the point of learning history? War never changes, right? It seemed tedious. What does history have to do with how powerful and cool a mech is, or how sweet it is to be a mech knight?
"When the darkness came from outside, only the humans knew what was happening. It was war, war from outside the peaceful galaxy. War that had started when the Milky Way first showed the twinkling signs of life. One insane intelligence, old as time, would not tolerate another living galaxy. Each must be consumed by its own weight, and only death may prevail.
Humans instinctively knew this, as the chosen ones, the T-Cells of the galaxy. When their alien friends started getting ravaged and marauded by the scouts of the Dark Beings, humans responded, retaliating with unbridled ferocity and driving the otherwise unstoppable enemies back into the darkness.
It was a frightening time, and it only got worse when the massive cloud of shade was identified as the locust fleet that had sailed for billions of years, the Silent Empty Eternal Darkness Sailors, as they called themselves. They were nothing but dormant hives, sleeping forever, ready to wake and kill and self-destruct, make the galaxy dead. They could have done so, but humans stood in their way, an unpredictable enemy, capable of war.
That is why human worlds were directly targeted by their commandos. Massive singular monsters of ungodly visage were deployed to human worlds, spawning armies of miniature satraps of the horrors, to pillage and assault human worlds, turning them into hellscapes of death and destruction. The alien friends of the humans did not sit entirely idle, they helped by selling powerful new weapons and armor to the humans who kept retaliating against the Dark Beings with ever more powerful and vengeful mech."
Conner perked up at the part about the mech. Various famous chassis flashed across the screen in cool paint and poses with alien worlds in their backdrop and accounting for their neatly colored camouflage plates. He paid attention to the famous battles, where humans had defeated the Dark Beings in honorable combat.
"Conner, do you know what made your clan's father and mother such great mech knights?" his teacher asked.
"They learned from their mistakes." Conner sighed.
"They learned from other people's mistakes. They studied all of our defeats, all the times the Dark Beings annihilated entire battalions or overwhelmed our defenses. It is a much heavier volume. We learn little from victory except that now the enemy will try to better themselves again. When they win, they use the same tactics again - that's when we win. We don't use the same tactics again, for they will be ready when we try. We conceptualize and learn their thoughts, through their actions. They do not understand us. It is our only advantage, for each progression of our tech is met by another evolution of their monsters. Someday we will not be able to make a stronger bullet to match their stronger armor. We must anticipate a limit to this war, and fight accordingly."
"I can only anticipate getting into a mech and fighting bugs!" Conner had said. His teacher had given him that look. Nobody else got that look. Conner got it everywhere. He thought back to those days, he'd really thought he'd see action, in a mech, fighting bugs.
The rest of his class went on to become mech knights. All of them had seen action. Of course, none of them were left alive, and few of their mech were salvaged. Except, Pharlie.
Her mech was the third in a row of ones hit by a single plasma beam of the enemy. While the first two were instantly blown to atomic dust, her mech was only knocked over and set on fire. The ejection seat in the cockpit had the one and a half seconds needed to egress the mech knight safely.
She'd spent some time in relieved-of-duty status on Maranda Beach before she insisted they give her something to do. They quickly evaluated her and decided she wasn't fit for duty in a mech. Something about 'shutting down the Berserker Program' and 'protocols preventing reinstating anyone who qualifies to pilot a Berserker Mech'. Not happening under Admiral Khaspa.
"How's getting into a mech and fighting bugs, Conner? Still anticipating it?" Pharlie asked her old classmate.
"You are under my command. Watch your tone, I run a cruel shift." Conner grumbled.
"Aye, Skipper." Pharlie cringed, realizing the bureaucrat Conner had no sense of humor anymore. She decided to make it her personal mission to work on that. Conner with no humor didn't sound fun.
That scene in the classroom was a long time ago, but it was with Conner like it just happened. He hated Pharlie, because she stood for his humiliation, and wanted to humiliate her, but then he hated himself for feeling that way. He resolved to leave her be because he didn't want to feed his own calloused resentments.
"We've got work to do. We are reassigned to military surplus salvage. This job just keeps getting better. I used to think I would somehow be tested on a battlefield to save the galaxy, but out here I just get tested by boredom. I don't even feel the shame of these janitorial jobs anymore, I'm numb to it." Conner said to Pharlie, the next time they spoke. Pharlie realized he was trying to be nice to her and asked him:
"You'd rather be dead, or be me?" She wondered.
"Yeah. You don't know what it is like flying around delivering stuff and counting crap. I hate it. I could've made an actual difference." Conner complained personally.
Pharlie smiled and said: "You'd have made no more difference than the rest of us did. You don't know what a victory against the bugs costs, do you? You think you just have to stand there bravely shooting back and if you die, oh well, otherwise it's all glory. It's never like that. It hurts, it hurts a lot, because you don't die. Everyone else does. And for what? We just play the same game again next weekend, and it never changes."
"That's war." Conner nodded. "What am I doing? I bring supplies to remote outposts. It's pointless."
"Not anymore, they reassigned us to go pick up supplies, remember?" Pharlie pointed out.
"Oh yeah - don't remind me, just when I though my life couldn't be more tedious or pointless." Conner fell silent, realizing he sounded weak and small, complaining so much. He wished he was stoic, but he had a chance to confide in Pharlie, and he had taken it. Pharlie said:
"You're right. But let's make the most of it." And she smiled, so Conner decided that letting someone know just how miserable he was wasn't entirely a bad thing. He just wished he could somehow just be good with it, without having to use drugs or somesuch. He really felt like his combat skills were going to waste, sitting on a ship for long years, asleep and going around picking up supplies. As Pharlie had pointed out, they weren't even delivering them anymore, new mission, go get all that stuff the aliens made over the centuries for the war effort.
Rhema loomed in the distance. "We are picking up artwork on this world. Are you kidding me? The manifest shows it is categorized as artwork. So this community of variety-hour aliens have compiled some kind of treasure trove of fine art. This is asinine." Pharlie offered.
"That's enough of that." Conner chastised her formally on the deck, but he was smiling as he said it. He loved having her there stating his real feelings. "The mission is to acquire this propaganda, it is deemed useful to the war effort."
The world was like melted orange-cream covered in brown fog, a desolate radiated landscape below testified to the destructive power of the Unknown. The same Dark Beings had taken shots from the darkness with precise aim and killed some of the older aliens, such as the Frendsikeel. Long ago the peaceful otter people had lived happily on Rhema, inviting trade via broadcast.
After meeting an assortment of artist-aliens wearing shimmering dark-colored robes and cowls, the human delegate collecting military surplus accepted the crates of fine art, packed for their shipping across the stars, trusted to nobody except the human military to safely transport it.
"Conner." A call came in from Supply Command Unk Gheldin, Conner's commander. "You just earned me a promotion. The patrons of Rhema have instituted a check as a downpayment on our services. It's enough to build an entire warship. These aliens are loaded and just became our daddy. You're doing good work out there, the war effort thanks you!"
"I'll be sure and handle with care." Conner saluted diligently.
The next world was Arienta, populated by what was left of aliens who looked like huge anthropomorphic tarantulas.
"We've perfected a drug that can induce Star Sleep in humans. They said it was not possible for such belligerent minds to Star Sleep, but our colony of volunteers have allowed us to test every kind of euphoria and pleasure-inducing drug we could on them. Most species wouldn't have such a supply of volunteers, but humans come from far and wide to live as our guests, accepting our hospitality for their entire lives, saying they don't ever want to leave." The high priestess of the Blue Light Watchers, Rhoxa Billi, explained the doped humans lounging around everywhere.
"They look like slackers, sir." Pharlie said loudly.
"That's enough of that." Conner admonished her, but was smiling, glad she said what he was thinking. He faced the high priestess formally and said:
"We'll take this drug, and thank you for your hard work." Conner waved his fingers in the spiritual way to show he knew the sacred gratitude of the Blue Light Watchers. He'd studied how to do it on the way over, practicing it for days until he was confident he could do it right.
The next stop was Basilik, an industrialized wasteland where the Sunder had hundreds of thousands of giant humanoid machines, in loincloths, working tirelessly to drag massive monolithic super metal beams across rollers, up ramps to assemble indestructible mech chassis to sell to the humans.
"Sir, we take shipments from here all the time. What are we here for?" Pharlie asked.
"Not a what, a whom." Conner said.
The casket of the revered Exalted Inquisitor Eshka Layenna was loaded on board, but it was not made by Sunder. No, it was tech from some other society, preserving her eternally in a state of dormancy, a kind of molecular stasis.
"We're taking her back to the ones who put her in there. They have a gift for us. She is our gift for them. The Sunder have agreed to this, in the name of the war effort."
The Desperado star sailed to the nearby Kriesene system where an old gravity cloud that looked like a planet had hundreds of planet-sized moons dancing around it like an insane ballroom.
"The shoals around their world will make this somewhat dangerous to traverse. We have a map, given to us by the Sunder, so we should be fine." Conner told Pharlie.
"Danger, eh? Kinda like it, don't you?" Pharlie teased.
"That's enough of that." Conner said without any real command in it, smiling.
The Skiesene had a moon-sized space station named Thoughtfulness where they conducted much of their trade with each other. They looked like dark-shelled nightmare creatures, some kind of H.R. Giger prophecy had remembered these creatures long before humans had met them.
Conner witnessed their massed warriors, in stasis, embroidered stole draped over them, crouched motionless atop pedestals with twenty-yard tall tapestries depicting their many victories in bloody combat. They sat there in a great hall in their various forms and armors, but always hideous monsters, reminding him of the Dark Beings vaguely, except devoid of insectoid features.
The Skiesene were delighted by the delivery of their goddess, Eshka Layenna. A time without bloodshed was declared, and the Skiesene offered a shipment of their finest warriors, in egg form.
The Skiesene Khan grinned with uncannily human-looking teeth, but in its grin was a sharpened beak that could pierce the solid dome that was their head, with no eyes or ears, at least not in one place, for they had sensory all over their bodies.
"Uh, thanks. We could always use some special, uh, special forces." Conner accepted the eggs, as he was under orders to do. They were preserved until called, using a key to deactivate the stasis they were in. Then they would serve the orders in their minds, to obey their human commanders.
"I hope they don't have to facehug us and chest burst us." Pharlie chuckled.
"That's enough of that." Conner told her, smiling.
The last stop was the world of the Beebee, aliens who looked like cats wearing incredibly fancy clothing.
"We've tailored new uniforms for the human armies. You'll like them." The Master of Design, top official of the Beebee, told Conner, purring as he went.
Conner put one hand on his elbow and one holding his chin, trying to keep a straight face, when he saw the uniforms.
"They are a little small, don't you think?" Conner looked at the feline models in the uniforms meant for human soldiers.
"And kinda derpy with all those frills and colors?" Pharlie offered further criticism.
The Master of Design seemed to think the uniforms were being complimented, anticipating no other response. It took a moment to sink in that the humans were mocking all their hard work.
"All of the specifications for armored clothing were met. These uniforms will preserve your body temperature in very extreme conditions and will slow ballistic projectiles so that they cannot penetrate the cloth, but instead have their kinetics splattered outward and also the colors shift to the mood of the wearer. You can make it camouflage if you like. We worried that human sizes made dispensing millions of these uniforms impractical compared to making an adjustable size. Try one on." The Master of Design was not offended, but stood his ground, his hair puffing up making him look sophisticated and official. His whiskers twitched handsomely at the end and he gave a prolonged blink.
"They still look silly, why so many frills?" Pharlie chuckled.
"That's enough of that." Conner sighed.
The humans were about to leave and board their ship when Conner spotted an ancient mech standing next to the star port.
"What's that?" he asked.
"The tomb of Drastic Conner Mcfarley, the mech knight who defended our world, surprising a lone scout of the Dark Beings and engaging it in single one-on-one combat, saving our world. Drastic Conner Mcfarley died in his mech during the battle. The scout retreated and left us unharmed." The Master of Design said.
"Why'd it leave?" Conner asked, but recalled what his clan father had done. He awaited the answer he knew:
"Drastic Conner Mcfarley disarmed it, but left its capacity to retreat intact. It is believed he deliberately used this measure of engagement, in order to ensure the enemy would not retaliate by bombarding our world. When one of them dies, the world they die on gets destroyed. He might have survived the battle if he'd just killed it when he had the chance. We know this. He sacrificed himself to save us."
"That's right." Conner nodded. He and Pharlie felt solemn, realizing how far their journey had taken them, all the way to where it had began for them. "We're him, and we won't let you down."

I haven't bought it yet... I prefer my Shiren more classically Roguelike (Like 2) so I was poking around here to get a sense of whether people liked Shiren 6 since I don't trust the general game media to have their tastes honed well enough for me to trust their reviews. I found it getting a bit of a mixed reception here so I decided to see if my one trusted source for all things Shiren, John Harris, had weighed in. Here's what John Said: https://mefi.social/@rodneylives/112070072894930544 which I'll include at the bottom of this post so people don't need to view the link.
I'm posting this to help people who are looking for the same information.
Here's John's post. If you're not familiar with John, they're an ardent Shiren fan (http://www.roguelikeradio.com/2011/11/episode-13-mystery-dungeon-2-shiren\_23.html) and the author of the book "Exploring Roguelike Games"
#Shiren 6 has been very enjoyable for me. It's been fairly easy for me mostly, but only because I'm a veteran of the #MysteryDungeon by now. I'm in the final megadungeon now, and it's pretty hard, and I'm loving it.
Shiren 6 has been a lot more subdued in its features over Shiren 5. Shiren 5 feels like it was meant to be a kitchen sink game, with nearly every feature. For example, it has both Revive Grass _and_ Undo Grass, which basically do the same thing. Shiren 6 pares down the features a lot. It doesn't even have Escape Scrolls! When you play the game of Mystery Dungeons, either you win or you die. Probably die.

Hello! I'm about to jump back into the query trenches and thought I'd see what you fine folks had to say about the query letter. It's my first time querying horror and came across the term "light horror" which I think fits my story. It's not overly gory but it's essentially a haunted house story. If that's not the right term, please let me know. Either way, thanks for looking it over! I included the first 300 words below as well because why the hell not.
Dear Agent,
I'm seeking representation for my adult fiction novel CENTER VALLEY. I read on your [agency] bio of your interest in [something] and thought it would be a good fit for your list.
CENTER VALLEY is a light horror novel complete at 75,000 words. It will interest fans of HOW TO SELL A HAUNTED HOUSE by Grady Hendrix and THE SEPTEMBER HOUSE by Carissa Orlando.
Ben Baker never thought flipping a house would lead to a maniac attacking his family with a hammer.
He inherited his father’s hardware store and has been doing everything he can to keep it open, including dipping into his family’s savings account. His wife Hannah trusts him with the family finances until she gets into a car accident and finds out there’s not nearly as much in the bank as she thought.
Ben’s brother Hank offers a way to make some quick money—buy a foreclosed house on the outskirts of town and flip it themselves. With no other idea of how to replace the money, Ben reluctantly agrees.
But when they finally get into the house, they find something in the attic that neither can explain. A house—complete with windows, a roof, and a bathroom—sits behind a makeshift wall of thin plywood. Hank is curious but Ben is immediately unsettled, and neither can say exactly why.
Soon, Ben sees shadows move in ways they shouldn’t, hears strange noises from the attic, and realizes that they have a lot more to worry about than simply finishing the remodel within their budget when the strange occurrences follow him home.
[bio]
Thanks,
[me]
First 300 words:
I would’ve hugged my daughter a little tighter if I had known a madman would attack her with a hammer before her next birthday. But of course, there was no way for me to know so instead I just threw my empty beer bottle at Hank’s kneecap.
“Ah jeez look at that,” I said. This was one of our dad’s top moves. The other was to simply drop the empty bottle between his feet—he could be standing in the kitchen right next to Mom, it didn’t matter—and stare you in the eyes with this dumb grin on his face.
Hank just laughed and reached into the cooler on the opposite side of his lawn chair. Birthday parties are incredibly easy when your brother has a daughter the same age as yours. He pulled out another High Life and threw it back to me. April 26th was a tough birthday in middle Wisconsin. Depending on the year, you could get a nice spring-like day or a snowstorm. We lucked out this year.
“Why didn’t you get the big one?” Hank said, nodding to the bounce house that filled up more than half of my backyard.
“He didn’t want to pay for the semi to deliver it,” said Hannah. My wife of nine years. She was only five feet tall but goddamn she was a giant to me. Have you ever been afraid of a person you could throw through a window with one arm? That was her. Worthless on moving day but you didn’t want to see her get angry. I used to joke that she had an amplifier in her ribcage. The decibel level she could reach was freakish and downright terrifying, especially if you didn’t see it coming. She once stopped a dog fight just by screaming as loud as she could.