Plumbing diagram with water softener

My husband is busy helping a friend with plumbing today, so I had the afternoon and evening to myself. I planted Jerusalem artichokes, corn, and onions and weeded the garden in my bare feet. I watered all the radishes, lettuce, kale, tomatoes and squash that are already up. It’s so hot out!! I had to keep coming inside to cool off, so I worked on my current painting in progress. It’s such a fun day, and nothing even happened lol. Hoping all of you are enjoying the beginning of summer too

~First~
A Scion of Many Worlds
Observer Wu was not sure about this next call. There had been rumours, rumours stories and absurdities from first to last. But this was one he would need to investigate thoroughly. He steels his face to a neutral position as the call goes through.
“You’re on a drone observing. I am working.” Is the first thing that comes through. A voice simultaneously deep but accompanied with a chorus of tingling bells. The image shows an enormous figure that appears to be primarily composed of shimmering white fur looking over the 3D model of a building as he directs things through the air with his right hand. Support structures, beams and building materials all soar at his direction and quickly slam themselves into place to quickly construct a large structure. “I am capable of speaking as I work, so if you have questions then ask them.”
“I am Observer Wu from Earth. I am looking for Mister Blue.
“I am one of the Blues.” The enormous figure states. “Jasper Blue, also Emmanuel Skitterway.”
The camera zooms in before something white catches onto it and it’s forced back. “Apologies, the drone is not of the best quality.”
“I would assume that a... God Emperor would have better?”
“I am directing these resources into infrastructure. Things like this sewage processing plant will not build themselves and the components that the camera drone requires are better spent ensuring that pathogens are kept out of the water, or that a medical scanner has appropriate redundancies.” Emmanuel replies as the panelling to the outside of the building start attaching itself at his direction and they’re quickly left with a solid looking structure with numerous tanks to the side.
“Alright the building is finished! Painters! Have your way with it!” He calls out and numerous people rush up with decorating supplies. “There is more for me to do. While many of the relief ships arrived with prefabricated buildings there was an unfortunate and nearly universal blindspot in their considerations.”
“Which is?”
“That while the world is settled by many respects, it was at a late iron age level at best, borderline tribal in other areas. Sewage treatment and sanitation concerns like that are simply not in their proper place. Every major and minor settlement requires a massive overhaul of it’s infrastructure in order to bring the living standards up to even industrial levels, let alone galactic levels.” Emmanuel states.
“This seems rather menial for someone ostensibly in charge of an entire planet.”
“Delegation. I have any communications and status updates relayed to me through that pursuing drone, it’s a hand’s free system, so while it is not always at one hundred percent satisfaction it allows me to lead while I also work. After all, many of the legislative concerns can be easily taken care of by my numerous assistants, but only a handful of people have the sanitation know how and willingness to work and put together sewage containment.”
“A little demeaning for one worshipped as a god.”
“I am a Primal. I’m going to be regarded as such whether I indent a throne with an ever widening rear or gunk out sewer lines, and of the two only one of them actually makes things better.” Emmanuel dismisses.
“Really. Yet you’re still not getting dirty.”
“I could do things less efficiently to look like I’ve been working hard, but honestly it’s all in the Axiom. The truth of the matter is that sewer work with even just a small amount of technology is more boring than dirty.” Emmanuel states before turning, the camera turns with him. It now shows where an entire army of workers are installing the pipes and systems for a proper sewage network. “Still, not bad eh? One year ago this place was an abandoned wreck of a smaller city. The population all but mind controlled by a group of religious fanatics who convinced them to abandon their homes and any dignity. They’ve come a long way since.” Emmanuel states.
“Have they?”
“This was the Greenstone Alliance Territory, a breakaway state from The Empire of Miru. To them the cannon was the military innovation rocking the nation.”
“I see...”
“Now they get air conditioning, indoor plumbing, heating in the winter, canned food for the leaner months, telephones to speak with their loved ones over a distance, radio for alerts and entertainment and far more.” Emmanuel states as he indicates an antenna being set up.
“All that?” Observer Wu remarks. “You seem a little... involved for a supposed god.”
“There are two so called gods on this world.” Emmanuel replies. “I, who have personally conquered much of it, wheeled and dealed with other nations and proved myself as warrior and leader both, and Yserizan. Yserizan is either the mother, grandmother or great grandmother of at least a quarter of the world population.”
“And your relationship to this Yserizan?”
“One of my wives. Our union was also a unification of Lablan as a single strong point on this world and...”
“What’s this?” A new voice asks and the camera reorients to a young woman with glowing golden hair.
“Just a camera drone, nothing to be concerned about.” Emmanuel states.
“Oh. So it’s watching us?”
“Yes.”
“And the image of the person on top of it?”
“The person watching.”
“Who is he?”
“Observer Wu.”
“And why is an Observer needed?”
“Do you recall whenever Earth or the Origins of Humanity are discussed?”
“A little? Every time I seem to get a little bit more education it just lets me see how much more there is.”
“Oh that’s very normal.” Emmanuel replies.
“If I may be introduced?” Observer Wu asks.
“I am Empress Zaviah Enlightened Luxen Divine Ascendant, ruler of Miru Reborn.”
“Miru Reborn is?”
“One of the largest empires upon Lakran. Consisting of Central Miru, The Greenstone Territories of Northern Miru and The Goldlands Unification of Southern Miru. Our population is primarily Erumenta of all types, but other peoples are of course welcome.”
“And what brought about this rebirth?” Observer Wu asks and his eyebrows go up as Zaviah points right at Emmanuel.
“Heh, guilty. Everywhere I turned the planet seemed to just be full of more and more problems that needed to stop sometime ten years ago and no one else was available. So I did the best I could.”
“And then broke armies, nations and all known limits upon people.”
“All presently known limits, what I did is only impressive when it’s weighed in that I started with only Horace’s memories and didn’t even understand how an Urthani body fully worked at the time.” Emmanuel states.
“Yes. I read that report. It was absurd.”
“It was accurate. We have all the parties involved to attest for it here on planet if you care to speak with them.” Emmanuel notes as he checks a device and nods. “All right, next is...”
“Break.” Zaviah tells him.
“Excuse me.”
“Grandmother has given ME the authority to force you into rest father!” Zaviah says with relish in her tone.
“She wouldn’t!”
“She has! If I see that you’re working too hard I can tell you to stop.”
“You do know she legally has no such authority over me right?” Emmanuel asks pointing a diamond plated claw at the comparatively tiny Erumenta who’s grinning widely at this.
“Yes, but she’ll be so disappointed that her little boy isn’t taking care of himself anymore even though he promised to and...”
“It was a mistake working so hard to make the two of you friends.” Emmanuel says in a note of false despair. “Just a moment I’ll instruct the work crew on the next few communities to proceed without me.”
“That sounds like work.”
“A text to go with Plan B rather than Plan A is not work, it’s good manners.” Emmanuel protests and raises an eye ridge as a much smaller girl tries to glare him down. “Are you sure you want to put so much force into your day by day interactions while...”
A tiny dark shape slams into Zaviah to the Erumenta’s audible protest as Magrica starts gushing about how cute it is for the little girl to finally have some grit in her gut and how she’s going to braid her hair and take her monster hunting and get her a battleaxe to go with that attitude...
Emmanuel turns to the politely puzzled Wu and shrugs.
“Motherhood does amazing things to some women. Magrica was much more openly fierce before, but she decided that all my children, adopted and otherwise, were hers to teach and nurture into proper warriors.”
“And how did she take the fact that you are technically the step parent of a quarter of the world’s population if what you told me about Yserizan is correct?”
“She has an entire squadron of Nagasha she’s training to be monster hunters. It’s actually going pretty well. The Jungle Nagasha are really appreciating it more than the other types, but the few Cloud Nagasha they have as scouts and aerial reconnaissance are fully embracing the role.”
“And how are you taking to... godhood?” Observer Wu asks his eyes penetrating.
“It grows more comfortable unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately.” Wu repeats. Not questioning, but certainly prompting.
“I’ve had to put aside my own prejudices in the matter. Humans have a bad track record with self proclaimed gods and messiahs. Too many fakes and too many holy wars. To say nothing of the cults, witch-hunts and the like. And Urthani would follow any number of faiths, but the divine figure was either some kind of Divine Truth, a more abstract theology, gods that embody concepts or something animist for the most part.”
“Did you look to The Nagasha for a better example?”
“I did, and that’s what caused me to grow more comfortable with the title. Primal Nagasha aren’t worshipped in the way humans would a prohet or saint. Seeing them as nigh infallible. No, a Primal Nagasha is simply the very best that a Nagasha can be and it can neither be stopped nor denied. While most of them are indeed leaders to follow, authorities to obey or the sources of philosophy to accept, they are not regarded as unquestionable or infallible.”
“And that is what helped?”
“It is. I was terrified that someone would misinterpret me, either honestly or malevolently, and cause immense damage in my name. A crusade to cull any politician that isn’t in the military through fire and steel, or an Urthani Colony deciding that they deserve the entire world and since not only have the strength now, but a god of their own, that they are righteous in slaughter... I had several kinds of nightmare when I let my mind wander.”
“And?” Wu prompts.
“I had a conversation. An important one with an important person. She helped me put everything in perspective. But she’s not the type to appreciate too much attention. So she’s requested I keep things quiet. But, I can say that she is an authority on the subject. And she had a fair amount to say.”
“So you’ve spoken to other so called gods of the serpent people.”
“Primal Nagasha, and yes. One has arrived already, she lives her life as quietly as she can. Another is soon to arrive. The first wanted my measure, the second wants to ensure that as a more militaristic Primal that I’m up to standard as she calls it.”
“Oh?”
“I’m part of the smallest stable demographic in the galaxy. Primals. Apparently we’re a very self policing people.”
“So in other words, you’re more a celebrity in multiple fields than some object of worship?”
“Closer to actual worship than celebrity worship I’m afraid. Still, it’s not mindless, and those that are looking for an excuse... well they’ll find another one if it’s not me. At least if someone’s trying to use my name to do something horrible it means I have all moral authority to let them know how stupid such a thing is.”
“I suppose that is an upside to an insane cult deciding that it wants to go on a rampage in your name.”
“But that’s just the thing I really had to internalize, if they’re going to do that, then they’re going to do it and I’m just their excuse. They’ll find another if I’m not available. I’m responsible for the example I set, the actions I do and the things I say. I am not responsible for how they are interpreted.”
“Interesting. Still, is there a reason you’re sharing this in particular?”
“I figured the most distressing thing that Earth would consider about my situation was my rise into divine stature. A powerful soldier can be understood, a powerful politician or businessman can also be understood, but someone being regarded as a god can not be understood within a positive context thanks to the rather terrible history of such on Earth.” Emmanuel says.
“That... is an interesting concern. However, you do not think your conquering an entire world to be a bad thing?”
“Considering that it was basically in unending war, competition and self sabotage? Yes. You see, this world was suffering over an unending brain drain due to the fact that all male colonists were lost in the initial crash of the colony ship. There were surviving males, but they were in stasis and could not be retrieved. The method that was used to ensure there would be a future population was flawed, intended as an emergency stopgap. But they didn’t have the means to move past it. So it was used over and over again. This world was nearing the breaking point.”
“And that justifies conquering it?”
“When the nation states are tearing themselves apart through mindless pride? Scheming for the sake of scheming? Or are outright predating the other states? Yes, yes it does. To not intervene would have killed, far, far more people.”
“So you justify things by saying that thye will thank you some day?’
“They thank me now.”
“And it’s sincere?”
“Yes, considering that I’ve had a woman weep with relief at getting something as simple as a pair of glasses, or another outright beg for her child and herself to be healed of the degeneration they’ve suffered. How can I consider it anything but sincere?” Emmanuel asks.
“Oh? Who are you speaking with?” A new voice asks before a massive serpent woman slithers into Wu’s field of view. Her hood is fully flared out to reveal her as Lady Yserizan as she regards things. “A human friend?”
“An Observer from earth, they’re struggling to believe all the things they’ve been told.”
“Considering some mornings I wake up scarcely believing how my life has changed for the better I don’t blame them.” Yserizan notes happily. “Still, is there anything this... Observer wants to know in particular?”
“In particular I want to know many things. I’m just saying my first hello and listening to whatever anyone wants to say to me. I’ll be visiting that world before I return to Earth so make of that what you will.” Observer Wu says.
“Of course, it might be interesting to show you the temple my daughters made for me.”
“I will admit, receiving a tour of a living god’s temple from the god themselves will be a new experience for me.” Observer Wu admits.
~First~ Last

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.

Good Day Plumbers
We have a house in Fresno that are under rehabilitation. Sprinkler system is being finalized but our fire contractor wont be able to help us with the plumbing connections from our well (65 ft from the house) which will serve as the main water supply for our house and fire sprinkler system.
Our house is outside city limits and more likely doesn't have any available fire hydrant serviceable somewhere so with our fire sprinkler the Fire Dept required us to have a draft system for them to connect to. We have an existing well pump in place and piping for water main but the yield just falls at 5 gpm so as per multiple contractors we would need a water tank for the house so we bought a 2500 gallon. My question is how do I know what correct size of storage tank to use to serve the house, sprinkler system and fire department?
I hope you can help me out because I've called several plumbers and fire contractors. Some of them are saying the 2500 gallon is enough, others are saying that could only cover the fire dept side and we'd need 5000 gallons. others are saying 3500 gallon.
Would love to hear your thoughts or experiences thank you very much.

First off… I DO LOVE HIM SO MUCH
But my God this guy cannot land the damn plane on a project or task to save his life.
The biggest issue lately is that we moved into a fixer-upper. The house is great, but we’ve lived here 13 years and stuff still is not done. When we first moved in there was a lot of work to be put in and instead of going at a slower pace like I wanted to do and taking our time and choosing quality finishes, etc. he wanted to rush everything just to get it done with the promise of upgrading later. And he always wants to use a friend or acquaintance to do these construction projects. I’m fine with using (licensed) friends but sometimes you need to just call in a crew and have them knock it out instead of your friends taking 25 weekends as a side job.
This led to a lot of issues in the beginning that I’m still dealing with now. We have a big empty converted garage that has everything in place to become a granny flat/IL suite. The bones of this project were done five years ago. We just need to frame out the bathroom and get the plumbing and electrical and do all the finish stuff, same with the kitchenette.
Three years ago I was like hey maybe we should get on this and get it done, because we have a lot of stuff lying around that is a component to that room, like boxed up cabinets, bed frames not put together, bins of kitchen items that can go in cupboards once they are installed. And the room has become the catch-all and looks like crap.
So that time he says sure let me call my plumber friend. Calls plumber friend who says he will come by “in a couple weeks” to check it out. Couple weeks go by, no one shows. I ask him to call plumber again. He does, schedules a day, plumber no shows. I ask him to follow up. He doesn’t want to bug him. Ok fine.
Life happens, we are busy. A year passes.
Ask him to call another person to come take a look. He calls another friend. They say they will come check it out and have some free time to complete it. Great. That guy no shows. Call again, he’s totally going to come today and get a quote. He actually comes, measures, says he can start next week. Great. Next week comes and crickets. I ask him to follow up. He forgets for 3 weeks. Now friend has started a 6 month construction project. Husband wants to wait for this person to do the work. It has now been a year. I still have an empty room. Husband says “well I can call Dave again and see…”
A different friend comes by. Says he can do it in a weekend. Sounds good. It’s been another month. I am done with shenanigans.
I measure, order the shower and hardware, the vanity, toilet and door. I clear out the room. I have a contractor coming today. Husband is upset because “I said I was going to take care of it!!! I’m just waiting on (first plumber who he hasn’t talked to in 2 years).” Also thinks the whole job should be completed in 2 days for $3000 including materials. Anything else is obviously someone ripping him off.
Then our deck has water damage. I called someone out in September before it got any worse. It’s a large deck, a lot of work to fix and re-coat. The quote is $5000. Husband thinks that is too much to rip apart the deck, replace rotten wood, and waterproof. I tell him to find someone then. He says he will. We got record rain this winter. The deck is worse. $5000 guy is now coming back this next week before it infects my whole house. Husband is mad, it costs too much, and he was totally gonna find someone else to do it.
-rips hair out-

There are a ton of threads on this sub about things you can do or buy to help with recovery. There’s a lot of good advice in them, but we also tend to see many of the same things listed (leg cushion, backpack or fanny pack to carry things around, stool softener, frozen water bottles for your ice machine, etc). But was there anything that you personally found helpful that never seems to get brought up?
For me, I happened to replace the wheels on my office chair with some polyurethane wheels (similar to the wheels on rollerblades, helps you roll around smoothly without resistance). Since I live alone, I’ve found myself using my office chair a ton to help get around the house if I have to carry something I can’t put in a bag or hold while using crutches, such as a cup of coffee or a plate of food.

Hi friends,
I've been approached by our team about the possibility of adding a bevi sparkling water machine to our in-office offerings and was wondering if anyone has any firsthand experience with this machine? If so, I'd love to hear about the pros/cons, ease of installation/maintenance, etc. I searched this sub and didn't get any hits for a post dedicated to this topic.
The feedback I have received from other organizations hasn't been great and given it will be a significant investment and would require potentially changing plumbing/electrical AND cutting a hole into an existing countertop, I'd like to be thorough in my research.
Thank you in advance!

I literally moved five minutes away from where I lived before, in the same city! I’m using the same shampoo as before, shampooing twice and rinsing with cold water and conditioning only on the ends. Somehow, my hair feels greasy the next morning after showering the evening before! Could it be my shower head? An issue with the water softener? It’s driving me crazy!

Due to start a complete refurb/ extension on my property in the near future, a new central heating system being part of it. We have pretty hard water which damages appliances/showers etc so thinking we need a water softener.
Is it feasible to have hard water running to ‘drinking’ water (6 sinks/basins) and softened water to baths, showers or any hot taps? I appreciate this might sound silly but not really wanting to increase salt consumption!
Will be using a boiler with unvented hot water cylinder

My house was built in the late 50's, and there was no ground wire run for the water heater. The plumber understandably won't install a new water heater until the wiring is updated.
The electrician ran romex through my crawl space, through a linen closet, then into a junction box and flex conduit in the laundry room. I wasn't super impressed with the 8 foot run of flex, but it's behind the washer so I'll live with it.
The problem is that the romex is exposed in the closet. His argument was that since there's exposed plumbing in the closet it's actually a utility access and that exposed romex is OK. Is that right? It's finished with drywall (I'll admit, very poorly) and has decent linen closet-type doors.
AND, is that giant loop ok? That looks like it is begging to get snagged on stuff.
https://preview.redd.it/m0f971o2ws0d1.jpg?width=4160&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=8bde1f156bd640afc7d1d8bcd6f25e6f235d4fad
https://preview.redd.it/cfbmu0c3ws0d1.jpg?width=4160&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6979a9208bcafe18450a76f7f845f97c702578bc

tl;dr Large Water Purifier does not process water correctly when you use jugs of salt water to fill.
I built my small cafarm base next to my friends this past wipe. We were on the coast this time so I had to do the 3 pumps/1 purifier method to get water. While rearranging my base I accidentially wired the pumps directly to my storage tanks and one tank filled with salt water. I grabbed a jug and took the salt water out and transferred it into the purifier while the pumps are still running. The fresh water tank was mostly full at the tine.
To my surprise, as soon as the salt water went into the purifier, it immediaely processed the entire barrel, but the fresh water tank was maxed out. Did it force out to my storage tanks. Honestly, I couldn’t tell. So, I had a thought.. what happens when you dump multiple jugs into the purifier?
I grabbed all 6 jugs, filled them with salt water, and dumped them into the purifier, and the same behavior happened. The fill tank immediately dumped into the purifier, but the fresh water supply was not increasing by the same amount.
I’m guessing this is either a bug or a hidden water processing buffer and the purifier can only handle so much water per second. Its just odd that you can dump an unlimited amount of water in and not fill the fill tank up or gain meaningful amounts of water.
If you made it this far, thank you for reading my essay on the plumbing on the Large Water purifier leaking.

I’m selling my home in Oklahoma in a few weeks and the inspector did what inspectors do and find all the tiny irritating things about your house.
The buyer has requested to get two outside spigots/faucets replaced because they’re leaky when turned on 🙄. Set one toilet with a new wax ring cause it rocks a little, and flush the water heater.
Was quoted almost $1k by a local plumbing company.
This seems high for 2 hours or less of work and less than $100 in supplies. Am I wrong?

SpaceX Starship page

FAQ

1. IFT-4 as of May 11th, NET end of May or some time in June 2024 according to Elon Musk which ties in with Kathy Leuders saying on May 14th that they could have the FAA licence the last week in May or June. Expected to use Booster 11 and Ship 29. A licence modification is needed because they are planning to do "some different things."
   
2. IFT-3 launch consisted of Booster 10 and Ship 28 as initially mentioned on NSF Roundup. SpaceX successfully achieved the launch on the specified date of March 14th 2024, as announced at this link with a post-flight summary. The IFT-2 mishap investigation was concluded on February 26th. Launch License was issued by the FAA on March 13th 2024 - this is a direct link to a PDF document on the FAA's website. Propellant transfer was successful.
   
3. When was the previous Integrated Flight Test (IFT-2)? Booster 9 + Ship 25 launched Saturday, November 18 after slight delay.
   
4. What was the result of IFT-2 Successful lift off with minimal pad damage. Successful booster operation with all engines to successful hot stage separation. Booster destroyed after attempted boost-back. Ship fired all engines to near orbital speed then lost. No re-entry attempt.
   
5. Did IFT-2 fail? No. As part of an iterative test program, many milestones were achieved. Perfection is not expected at this stage.
   
6. Goals for 2024 Reach orbit, deploy starlinks and recover both stages
   
7. Currently approved maximum launches 10 between 07.03.2024 and 06.03.2025: A maximum of five overpressure events from Starship intact impact and up to a total of five reentry debris or soft water landings in the Indian Ocean within a year of NMFS provided concurrence published on March 7, 2024
   

/SpaceX Official IFT-3 Discussion Thread

​

Quick Links

^{RAPTOR ROOST LAB CAM SAPPHIRE CAM SENTINEL CAM ROVER CAM ROVER 2.0 CAM PLEX CAM NSF STARBASE}
Starship Dev 55 Starship Dev 54 Starship Dev 53 Starship Thread List
Official Starship Update SpaceX Update Thread

Status

Road Closures

Road & Beach Closure

Type	Start (UTC)	End (UTC)	Status
Backup	2024-05-16 13:00:00	2024-05-17 01:00:00	Concluded. Hwy 4 and Boca Chica now Open.
Primary	2024-05-17 13:00:00	2024-05-18 01:00:00	Possible

Temporary Road Delay

Type	Start (UTC)	End (UTC)
Primary	2024-05-18 03:00:00	2024-05-18 07:00:00
Primary	2024-05-20 03:00:00	2024-05-20 07:00:00
Primary	2024-05-21 03:00:00	2024-05-21 07:00:00

Up to date as of 2024-05-16

Vehicle Status

As of May 16th, 2024.
Follow Ring Watchers on Twitter and Discord for more.
Future Ship+Booster pairings: IFT-4 - B11+S29; IFT-5 - B12+S30; IFT-6 - B13+S31; IFT-7 - B14+S32

Ship	Location	Status	Comment
S24, S25, S28	Bottom of sea	Destroyed	S24: IFT-1 (Summary, Video). S25: IFT-2 (Summary, Video). S28: IFT-3 (Summary, Video).
S26	Massey's	Testing	Static fire Oct. 20. No flaps or heat shield, plus other changes. 3 cryo tests, 1 spin prime, 1 static fire. October 27th: Moved to Rocket Garden where it was modified for unknown reasons. May 5th (2024): Moved from Rocket Garden to MB2, current fate unknown. May 8th: Rolled out to Massey's on the new ship static fire test stand.
S29	Launch Site	Final Testing before IFT-4	Fully stacked, completed 3x cryo tests. Jan 31st: Engine installation started, two Raptor Centers seen going into MB2. Feb 25th: Moved from MB2 to High Bay. March 1st: Moved to Launch Site. March 2nd: After a brief trip to the OLM for a photo op on the 1st, moved back to Pad B and lifted onto the test stand. March 7th: Apparently aborted Spin Prime - LOX tank partly filled then detank. March 11th: Spin Prime with all six Raptors. March 12th: Moved back to Build Site and on March 13th moved into the High Bay. March 22nd: Moved back to Launch Site for more testing. March 25th: Static Fire test of all six Raptors. March 27th: Single engine Static Fire test to simulate igniting one engine for deorbit using the header tanks for propellant. March 29th: Rolled back to High Bay for final prep work prior to IFT-4. April 1st: All of the tiles removed from the tip of the nosecone, the next day workers started to add new ones. Many other loose and broken tiles also removed from other places on the ship, replacement process ongoing. May 10th - moved from HB to MB2, also most of the problem tiles have been replaced, only a few gaps remain. May 12th: Rolled out to Launch Site for stacking onto B11 and subsequent WDR (possibly on May 16th). May 15th: Stacked onto B11. May 16th: Partial propellant load of LOX and LCH4 then detank (note: NOT a failed WDR, there were no indications that a WDR was planned).
S30	High Bay	Finalizing	Fully stacked, completed 2 cryo tests Jan 3 and Jan 6. April 4th: Moved to MB2 for engines installation. April 8th: Two RVACs and one Raptor Center were taken inside MB2 and installed. April 9th: Another Raptor Center moved into MB2 then an RVAC. Note: it's being said that all six Raptors are now installed, one Raptor Center was missed when Rover Cam was down for some hours prior to the first RVAC being moved inside MB2. May 1st: Moved to Launch Site for testing. May 7th: Small cryo test then later appeared to be going for a static fire, but after filling with LOX S30 was detanked, so an apparent abort. May 8th: Static Fire of all six Raptors. May 10th: Rolled back to the Build Site where it sat outside the High Bay all night and was then moved inside on May 11th.
S31	High Bay	Repair	Fully stacked and as of January 10th has had both aft flaps installed. TPS incomplete. May 11th: Placed on ship thrust simulator and rolled out to Massey's Test Site for thrust puck plus cryo testing. May 12th: Cryo test performed but there was an anomaly which caused a brief electrical fire on the raceway. May 15th: Rolled back from Massey's to the High Bay for inspection and, hopefully, repair work.
S32	Rocket Garden	Under construction	Fully stacked. No aft flaps. TPS incomplete.
S33+	Build Site	In pieces	Parts visible at Build and Sanchez sites.

​

Booster	Location	Status	Comment
B7, B9, B10	Bottom of sea	Destroyed	B7: IFT-1 (Summary, Video). B9: IFT-2 (Summary, Video). B10: IFT-3 (Summary, Video).
B11	Launch Site	Final testing before IFT-4	Completed 2 cryo tests. All engines have been installed according to the Booster Production diagram from The Ringwatchers. Hot Stage Ring not yet fitted but it's located behind the High Bay. April 3rd: Rolled out to Launch Site for some testing. April 5th: Static Fire. April 7th: Rolled back to Mega Bay 1 for final prep work prior to IFT-4. May 3rd: HSR has been spotted as having been installed. May 10th: Rolled out to Launch Site for WDR. May 15th: S29 stacked on top. May 16th: Partial propellant load of LOX and LCH4 then detank (note: NOT a failed WDR, there were no indications that a WDR was planned).
B12	Mega Bay 1	Finalizing	Appears complete, except for raptors and hot stage ring. Completed one cryo test on Jan 11. Second cryo test on Jan 12.
B13	Mega Bay 1	Finalizing	As of Feb 3rd: Fully stacked, remaining work ongoing. April 25th: New temporary protective cap installed on top to protect the grid fin components (note: grid fins not yet installed) then rolled out to Massey's Test Site for thrust puck and cryo testing. April 27th: First cryo test (Methane Tank only). April 29th: Second cryo test (LOX tank). May 3rd: Rolled back to Mega Bay 1 for final work (grid fins, Raptors, etc have yet to be installed).
B14	Mega Bay 1	LOX Tank under construction	Feb 9th: LOX tank Aft section A2:4 staged outside MB1. Feb 13th: Aft Section A2:4 moved inside MB1 and Common Dome section (CX:4) staged outside. Feb 15th: CX:4 moved into MB1 and stacked with A2:4, Aft section A3:4 staged outside MB1. Feb 21st: A3:4 moved into MB1 and stacked with the LOX tank, A4:4 staged outside MB1. Feb 23rd: Section A4:4 taken inside MB1. Feb 24th: A5:4 staged outside MB1. Feb 28th: A5:4 moved inside MB1 and stacked, also Methane tank section F2:3 staged outside MB1. Feb 29th: F3:3 also staged outside MB1. March 5th: Aft section positioned outside MB1, Forward section moves between MB1 and High Bay. March 6th: Aft section moved inside MB1. March 12th: Forward section of the methane tank parked outside MB1 and the LOX tank was stacked onto the aft section, meaning that once welded the LOX tank is completely stacked. March 13th: FX:3 and F2:3 moved inside MB1 and stacked, F3:3 still staged outside. March 27th: F3:3 moved into MB1 and stacked. March 29th: B14 F4:4 staged outside MB1. April 1st: B14 F4:4 moved inside MB1 and stacked, so completing the stacking of the methane tank. April 26th: The ring stand that the methane tank was on was removed from MB1 so indicating that B14 is now fully stacked. May 8th onwards - CO2 tanks taken inside for B14.
B15+	Build Site	Assembly	Assorted parts spotted through B17.

​
Something wrong? Update this thread via wiki page. For edit permission, message the mods or contact u/strawwalker.

Resources

• LabPadre Channel NASASpaceFlight.com Channel
• NSF: Booster 10 + Ship 28 OFT Thread Most Recent
• NSF: Boca Chica Production Updates Thread Most recent
• NSF: Elon Starship tweet compilation Most Recent
• SpaceX: Website Starship page Starship Users Guide (2020, PDF)
• FAA: SpaceX Starship Project at the Boca Chica Launch Site
• FAA: Temporary Flight Restrictions NOTAM list
• FCC: Starship Orbital Demo detailed Exhibit - 0748-EX-ST-2021 application June 20 through December 20
• NASA: Starship Reentry Observation (Technical Report)
• Hwy 4 & Boca Chica Beach Closures (May not be available outside US)
• Production Progress Infographics by @RingWatchers
• Raptor 2 Tracker by @SpaceRhin0
• Acronym definitions by Decronym
• Everyday Astronaut: Starbase Tour with Elon Musk, Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
• Everyday Astronaut: 2022 Elon Musk Interviews, Starbase/Ship Updates Launch Tower Merlin Engine Raptor Engine

SpaceX Discuss Thread for discussion of subjects other than Starship development.

Rules

We will attempt to keep this self-post current with links and major updates, but for the most part, we expect the community to supply the information. This is a great place to discuss Starship development, ask Starship-specific questions, and track the progress of the production and test campaigns. Starship Development Threads are not party threads. Normal subreddit rules still apply.

Hi. Hoping someone might have a brainwave of what could be going on!! We're at our wits end. 3yo male with chronic & prolonged constipation plus severe skin reaction to mosquitos & recurring cellulitis. Bit more info: we've seen multiple GPs & 2 paediatricians - all interventions mentioned are at their advice. He's grown out of a peanut & egg allergies but is still allergic to oats (doesn't show on the prick test but he gets a rash if he touches it & vomits within minutes if consumed). Was exclusively breastfed (self weaned at 2yo) & had cows milk protein intolerance (caused severe rashes, mucous & blood in the stool, terrible colic & reflux) which he grew out of at 8 months & introduced to solids at 6 months which is when the constipation started. Longest he went without pooing was 3 weeks & we intervened with softeners & followed up with suppositories. Has had an ultrasound & can't find anything except swollen lymph nodes in the abdomen, suspected from a previous virus at the time. Has a very healthy & varied diet, plenty of water, fruits & vegetables & a good appetite. He's very active too. He's now on a protocol of constant daily stool softener, a double dose 1 day & single dose the next, alternating. Started at a double dose daily but have been able to slightly drop it. He still only poos once a week at best & his stomach is often very swollen/bloated, it's usually very soft poo but a huge volume & he finds it quite distressing. Last year he started reacting severely to mosquitos (there's some at his preschool) & comes up in big swollen welts & blisters within minutes of being bitten. We give him a double dose antihistamine & put steroid cream & ice pack on it but these are getting worse & 3 times this year has resulted in cellulitis needing very strong antibiotics. We feel like there could be a link somewhere but keep getting brushed off & told to just keep doing the softener & it'll get better "in a few months" but he's been on it over 2 years & nothing has improved.
I hope all that makes sense! I will put pictures of the recent cellulitis in the comments & happy to clarify any details. Thank you!

Chris Cornwell founded Cornwell Plumbing Inc. in 1993. Chris is a plumber contractor and has been in the plumbing business for 30 years. He is from Brownsburg, IN, but has been a resident of Pittsboro, IN since 1986. His sons Andrew & Austin both have grown up around the business and have been plumbing since finishing high school. We service the following: Well Pumps Pressure Tank Gauges Pressure Switch Control box Pitless Adapters Water Heaters (Electric and Gas) A.O. Smith Brands Drain Cleaning (Kitchen, Tub, Main Drains, Field Tiles & Downspouts) Camera Inspections Sump Pumps and Sewage Pumps Garbage Disposals Water Softeners Bathroom and Kitchen Fixtures We have plumbers in Zionsville, IN ready to assist you with all your plumbing needs.

I'll keep this short just looking for some direction.
Current state:
600 Users. Majority on site with limited WFH.
30% Laptops/70% Desktops split
Hybrid Infrastructure - M365 and On-premise ERP
ERP will continue to stay on-premise due to its heavy data/network/CAD workload.
WFH is a mixture of remote desktop to RDS farm or remote desktop to users office workstation.
Future state:
I am looking to move to a model where we can be more agile in the way we work and respond to DR scenarios. Recent event was a simple plumbing issue which meant we had no running watetoilets for a week. This was enough to call on our DR plan and move users home. This has been the first real scenario since COVID but since then we have grown and acquired.
My options at this stage is:

1. Increase our laptop workforce, but I am hesitant due to the reliance on heavy workloads.
2. Look at a Citrix or similar VDI environment and move to thin clients.

As much as moving to laptops is the simpler solution, I still like the desktop model but open to your thoughts and experiences.

DC Next Proudly Presents:

THE NEW TITANS

In Shadow of Kestrel
Issue Nine: War Dove
Written by AdamantAce, GemlinTheGremlin & PatrollinTheMojave
Edited by Deadislandman1 and Voidkiller826
 
Next Issue > Coming Next Month
 
 
“Raven!”
Slade’s gruff voice pierced through the deafening, wave-like roars in Raven’s head, but the rage was too much to bear. Her hands sizzled as hellfire danced in her palms, her body readying for another attack. She locked eyes with a reptilian soldier, dismounting his simian steed and charging on foot, but as she lunged forwards to strike him, she watched a man fly into her path. Slade Wilson caught the young Titan’s hand and pushed, throwing Raven backwards.
“Come on, kid, snap out of it!” But as Slade’s words fell on deaf ears, he felt the familiar sting of a fist to his jaw, a crack echoing in his ears. He recoiled from the attack but powered through his injury and stood his ground. Sinking his heels into the ground, he locked eyes with the girl before him. Her face seemed contorted and uncanny, as if all of the rage she was feeling was pouring out of her. She groaned angrily as she thrusted her head downwards, her forehead making contact with Slade’s teeth, before pulling her head back up again in preparation for another attack.
Before she could make one, however, one of the lizardmen had almost reached the warring duo’s sides, and as he lunged forward with his long spear, he made contact with Raven’s side. A small rip formed in the side of Raven’s outfit, which seemed to only anger her further. However, it did seem to distract her enough; Mar’i fired off a single Starbolt which struck only the ground - a warning shot.
“Raven! Please!” the half-Tamaranean cried out. But the Raven she knew was buried under unfathomable amounts of fury; she ignored her teammate’s call and instead flew forwards and swung out at the reptiloid. The strike glowed with red flame, sending the creature skidding across the floor, barely conscious. Slade spotted a flash of something else on her face, as if she was finally able to fight back against the endless rage - pain, perhaps, or anguish. But in an instant, it was gone.
That flicker of something other than white-hot anger was enough for Slade.
He clutched his side as his still open wound began to ache, the bandages feeling wet with fresh blood. His jaw felt crooked, and as he gritted his teeth, it felt as though they sat differently atop each other. And yet, he clutched his staff tightly in one hand, and with the other he beckoned to Raven.
“Kid, you’re fighting it, I know you are!” Slade felt his mouth filling with blood rather than saliva.
Within a moment, Raven’s attention was locked on the white-haired man once again. She fired bolt after bolt of black and red flame, but Slade was still dextrous despite his pain. He dodged and dived, weaving through the fire, until he finally managed to make contact with his opponent. He drove his staff into her chest and pushed his weight against the weapon, forcing her backwards. She rose into the air, a black mist pouring from her arms and over her face, a large ghostly corvid taking her place. He felt the deathly cold shadow of the bird’s wing fall over him, his feet leaving the ground as she scooped him into the air.
He looked down at the ground far beneath him. A fall from this height would kill anyone, he thought, let alone someone beaten half to death.
Then, as a verdant bolt of energy struck it in the side, Raven’s Soul Self shrieked and the shadows retreated inwards. Slade felt himself falling through the air for a second, then two, before he felt his back collide with something soft and cushioned. As he looked up, he met the gaze of Conner, who soared to the ground in an instant, placing the snow-haired man on the ground and giving a swift nod.
Raven let out a pained, frustrated yell as she returned to the ground, aided by a grappling line expertly positioned by Tim, and in response, Conner jetted off towards the sound of her cries. Slade’s feet faltered beneath him, and he stumbled to keep his balance. His breathing was laboured and his vision was becoming fuzzy. It felt as though, he realised, all the blood loss and violence he had suffered over the past few hours were finally catching up to him. Was this what dying felt like?
“Slade!” shouted a voice, followed by the dulled drumming of hurried footsteps. Slade pulled his hand across his face to wipe away the mental haze and drops of blood. It was Don, sprinting towards him. When Slade felt Don clasp him by shoulders, he realized just how slowed he was by his injuries. “Plan?” Slade coughed out.
“You’ve seen what she can do. I only see one way out of these without one of the kids getting hurt. I’d do it myself, but I’m out of practice and this is too important to leave to chance.” Don looked around anxiously, his face betraying that he had a lot on his mind. “I’m giving you the powers of a god.” Slade opened his mouth to ask a question, a million came to mind. He glanced across the battlefield. Through a blurry film, he saw Raven’s Soul Self bat Conner away with its wing. He careened into the trunk of a thick tree, uprooting it with a deep crunch. “Are you sure?,” Slade asked, breathless.
“I’m not losing another Titan.” Don squeezed his eyes shut. His grip on Slade tightened as pale, almost blinding light enveloped them. It felt warm. No, better than that: it felt peaceful. With his enhanced senses, Slade could hear his erratic heartbeat slow. Fleeting visions bubbled up in his mind, opening up his awareness beyond the wildest dreams of Project Veritas. He felt rivers of magical energy flowing through the air and earth. Each of them spiralled towards a depression. Towards Raven, he knew instinctively. Iridescent blue light spread outward from his shoulders. It washed over his body armor, bleaching the jet black panels until his entire body shone with radiance. The pain from wounds old and new faded, replaced by serenity - and power. Don opened his eyes again and sighed gently; a concoction and joy, relief, and quiet mourning.
“There,” Don remarked. Slade felt lighter, less angry, less burdened. He looked down at the iridescent light enveloping his body. Magical energy buzzed against the surface of his skin. “The powers of the Dove - officially yours.”
Slade sucked in a nervous breath. “Don…” Even rejuvenated, he was still lost for words.
“They’re yours now,” Don smiled weakly. “Now go earn them. There’s a Titan in dire need of our help.”
Conner floated out of the dense jungle, rubbing his forehead. “Is Slade glowing or do I have a concussion?”
Slade looked over at Raven. She seemed less erratic, her movements driven by her brain rather than her gut. Tim’s staff batted fiercely against her, each strike buffeting her back more and more, but it was clear to Slade that Raven was not any weaker physically - her mind, however, was another story.
Slade began marching towards her, the ache in his side dulled. “Raven. You’re strong. Fight this rage inside of you.” Raven glared at him, a spark of something in her eyes, as she swooped in towards him at top speed. As she neared him, however, Slade readied his staff, stretching it out in front of him. As the tip of the weapon struck Raven, a beam of white energy coursed through her, as if she had been struck by lightning, and her body was flung backwards across the dirt.
Slade danced a hand over his rifle, but something felt different. He pulled it into his hands and inspected it swiftly; nothing seemed out of order. Raven rose slowly from her supine position, snarling softly to herself. Her movements had slowed, the expression on her face becoming closer to horror than rage. She was doing it.
“You’re nearly there, kid,” Slade soothed, his words suddenly like butter. He watched Raven’s shoulders start to relax. “That’s it. Just fight this, Raven. You’re almost there.”
Despite her tremendous progress, Raven’s blistering fury won out once more, and she charged a large bolt of hellfire in her hands. Slade fiddled with his rifle and crossed his fingers. There was a standstill between the two. Slade analysed his rifle again; there was something different about the barrel, as if it had been swapped out for another similar model. The stock felt lighter, too, as if the weight had been–
Raven roared at him, swiping wildly with glowing fists, and in an instant Slade instinctively pulled the trigger.
What fired from the gun was not a silvery bullet, but a familiar glowing bolt of white light, cloud-like in appearance. As it struck Raven, she sucked in a deep breath, the energy engulfing her. Her face softened and her posture relaxed. Then she swung out for the man’s weakened side, his bandages poking through the aura of light. And yet, as he stayed steadfast, not even attempting to dodge the attack. Sparks flew from the point of contact. Slade just readied another shot and fired.
Her body swayed with the blow. Slade closed the gap between them and focused on the new warmth he felt, concentrating it into his staff as best he could. Then, as he held it out in front of him at arm’s length, he swiped at Raven and struck her in the side of the shoulder. Each blow seemed to be more effective than the last, but as Raven’s movements continued to slow, Slade held fire.
“You’re doing it, Raven,” Slade encouraged. He watched as the other Titans surrounded Raven, each of them ready for any further attacks. Everyone watched with bated breath as their teammate and friend thrashed and recoiled from the hit. Her breathing was rapid, although it felt closer to panic than unabashed fury. She clasped her hands over her head, groaning. Then, suddenly, she stopped.
Her face had softened completely, her jaw slack, and tears filled her vision. She looked up at Slade with a comfort in her eyes. The aura emanating from him was pervasive and contagious, and although she had felt lost in a sea of impossibly vast emotions, its warmth and comfort cut through. The anger was still there somewhat, the last remaining dregs still working its way out of her system, but the comfort, the peace that Slade was providing was the anchor for her to stabilise herself. She had only ever seen this kind of power when Don…
Raven’s eyes widened as she realised what that meant. She collapsed to her knees, suddenly feeling the bone-deep fatigue her rage had suppressed. Her teammates rushed in around her. Mar’i dropped to a knee by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s OK. You’re safe. Everyone’s OK.”
“Don I’m—” She wiped away a stream of tears, stumbling her way out of the emotional vortex she’d been sucked into. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’ve lost control before, but never like this.”
Don looked older. Creases ran across his forehead and around his eyes. His smile hadn’t changed. “Raven, my brother and I got those powers when I was a kid. We didn’t ask for them. We weren’t ready for them. We didn’t know how to use them, let alone control them.” He laughed dryly, recalling Hank. “I don’t regret anything. Giving my powers to Slade is the best thing I’ve done with them in years. I know Hank would feel the same way.”
In the moment of silence that followed, Raven rose to her feet and pulled her cloak tightly around herself. She was still shaking. Tim’s eyes drifted from her to Slade. “Something’s gnawing at me. Kestrel’s powers are weakened in Skartaris. Don’s…” He coughed, “Slade’s powers are amplified. If this place is what affected you—”
Mar’i’s face flashed with recognition, “—your powers must be tied to the Lords of Order and Chaos!”
Tim furrowed his brow. “Maybe.” He hardly had time to consider further when a thundering crack tore open the sky. Two bolts of swirling energy - one red and one blue - met above them, forming a swirling portal at their vertex. The Titans readied their weapons, expecting the worst.
“It’s them.” Slade murmured, still put off by his uncanny awareness. Terataya and T’Charr descended from the sky, one wreathed in mist, the other, magma. The two elementals stopped a few feet above the ground, hovering.
Terataya was the first to speak. Even at a whisper, her voice reverberated through the air. “I don’t usually care for surprises, Don, but this was a pleasant one.” A thin smile appeared on her face.
“Slade Wilson.” Terataya’s neck turned at an unnatural angle to face him. “You wield the powers of Order with great skill. Who understands the dangers of unchecked War better than a soldier. Become my champion. Protect the balance.”
Slade took a step back, then glanced at Don.
“She’s right.” Don said, with only a hint of hesitation. “It took me years to use the powers like you used them today. You’re a natural.”
Slade looked at his hands, still gently pulsing with pale blue light. “Thanks.” He allowed himself a weak smile. “But no thanks.”
“What.” T’Charr’s voice boomed.
“It doesn’t take Zatanna to realize an old soldier like me makes a piss-poor Avatar of Peace. I fight for a living, and I’m not deluded enough to think that makes me good at anything but fighting. If you want someone who understands the need for balance, Don just sacrificed everything special about him for it.”
Don raised an eyebrow. “None taken.”
“His actions today were noble, but they do not make up for years spent squandering the gift.”
“Squandering? The Titans wouldn’t exist today if he hadn’t pulled them together. Everything they’ve done. Everything they’ve achieved for your balance wouldn’t have happened without him, including stopping that monster you made.”
“Watch your tone, mortal.” T’Charr threatened.
“There may be a vein of truth to his words, lover.” Terataya said. “But *if we were to restore Don Hall’s power, we would need assurances. His indecision led down this path.”*
Rocks ground against each other as T’Charr landed beside Don. “You would have weeks, not years, to select a counterpart and return to your duties.”
Don’s response was instantaneous. “I’ve made a decision.”
“You’ve decided if you’ll take up the mantle of Dove again?”
Don nodded. “And who should be the new Hawk.”
Terataya giggled. “Full of surprises today. T’Charr?”
“We should discuss this.” He said. “In private.”
The three of them vanished, leaving the Titans and Slade alone on a battlefield riddled with bits of dino meat and ape fur.
 
○○ Ⓣ ○○
 
“You don’t think they’re gonna come back in like, 200 years, right?” Conner asked. He sat beside the depowered Slade Wilson, who was downing aspirin to make up for the sudden deficit in peace energy.
“I don’t know.” Tim said. “But we should give them more than fifteen minutes.”
As if on cue, the skies opened again. Again, the chromatic energy lit the sky and again a portal opened its swirling maw. This time, however, it wasn’t two elemental Lords to descend. Raven squinted to make the figures out.
“Oh my god.” Conner said, having a far easier time with his super-vision.
“What? Who is it?” Tim asked.
“Donna!” Mar’i shouted. She shot off the ground towards her. Her black combat armor was replaced with a crimson and white bodysuit studded with stars that seemed to twinkle as the light shifted around her. The sword at her side was gone too, replaced with a coiled loop of rope suffused with the same brilliant energy. The two collided into an embrace, spinning through the air as they held each other tightly.
Don was the first to land, restored with the powers of Dove. He looked stronger than ever, and maybe more importantly, happier. Even Tim’s typical thoughtful brooding has been pierced by an unimpeachable joy.
“I don’t understand,.” Raven said. “S-She’s alive. How is this possible?”
“I knew there was only one person who could be trusted with the powers of War, with Hank’s abilities.” He scratched the back of his neck, a bit guilty. “And she’d been staring me in the face for years. It took some doing, but eventually T’Charr and Terataya saw that too.”
Donna landed beside him, Mar’i only a step behind. By now Conner had stepped forward. He tried not to choke over his words. “I’m sorry. If I’d—”
Donna didn’t let him get the words out before pulling him into a grapple-turned-hug that quickly grew as the rest of the team piled in. Slade flicked another aspirin into his mouth.
“Danyah!” A voice called out from over the ridge. It was Travis, mounted atop a fanged reptilian creature in the vague shape of a horse and flanked on either side by his gold-armored honor guard. He broke into a gallop, stopping just short of the Titans. “When I saw the skies, I feared the worst. Is it really you? Has sorcery brought you back to us?”
“It’s me, Travis. A Lord of Chaos brought me back.”
“Not to interrupt,.” Slade said, still nursing his wounds. “But did either of you ask them to bring us back to Chicago?”
“I…” Don grimaced. “Donna, how do we get home?”
“How did you get here? Surely you could return the way you came.” Travis said.
“No, we can’t.” Tim said, pressing a few buttons on his wrist’s holographic display. “Whatever magic pervades Skartaris is also causing some extreme time dilation. I can’t guarantee we’d return to the 21st century, or even to Earth.”
“I spent a decade in Skartaris and returned to Earth nearly two centuries later. It’s the influence of Chaos. We’d need a Skartaran mage of overwhelming power to stabilize our return.” She spat the word mage with disgust. Travis’s expression seemed to confirm the reputation of Skartaran spellcasters.
Before their anxiety could spiral, the sky above began to churn. Moments later, the ground shook as a violent bolt of lightning cleaved the air, striking with such ferocity that all but Conner and Donna were flung backward. Mar'i skidded across the damp undergrowth, her senses overwhelmed by the acrid scent of ozone. Her mind was racing; their victory was hard fought, and she doubted they had much left in the tank for another confrontation. She dug her hands into the ground and pushed herself up as she choked from the smell. The Warlord Morgan and his military guards snapped to attention, forming a protective ring around the crater that now marred the earth.
From the smoking pit, a figure rose, unfolding from a crouch like something out of Terminator. Adorned in a red and white jumpsuit that accentuated his lithe build, the young man's appearance was marked by a red cowl and goggles, with sandy brown hair rebelliously spilling out.
Conner squinted through the dissipating smoke, murmuring under his breath, “A speedster?” The Flashes had had a variety of different sidekicks and other allies over the years, but none of them recognised this one
With a nonchalant flair that seemed at odds with the charged atmosphere, the newcomer greeted them. “Hey, everyone chillax. I'm here to get you guys back home.”
Donna, ever the leader, stepped forward and spoke with a commanding curiosity, now emboldened with the war aura of Hawk. “And who are you exactly? Why should we trust you with such a claim?”
Flashing a cheeky grin, he tilted his head and responded, “Well, I’m a speedster for one. Name’s Impulse. If I run fast enough, then I can… well, I guess bend time.”
Behind Donna, the group exchanged sceptical glances. Raven's face remained shadowed by recovery, Mar'i and Conner braced for action, and Tim discretely checked his gadgets, no doubt for something that he could use on a speedster should the need arise.
“Yeah, we figured that much,” Don cut through the tension, his voice calm yet insistent. “Who sent you?”
Impulse chuckled, his demeanour remaining unfazed by their scrutiny. “Look, the details aren't the fun part. Trust me, I can get us back.”
As a silence thick with doubt and scepticism settled over the group, Impulse seemed to realise his casual assurances weren't sufficient. With a theatrical sigh, he reached up and removed his mask, revealing a face familiar to both Mar'i and Raven.
“Brody!?” Mar'i exclaimed, her surprise echoing through the clearing as she stared at the boy who had once hobbled through their college classes with his leg in a cast.
The young man’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a hint of pride. “Actually, it’s Bart.”
 
○○ Ⓣ ○○
 
When Slade emerged from the shower, his skin was glistening with moisture, the water tracing the contours of his scars. He wrapped a stark white towel around his waist, and crossed the plush carpet to sit on the edge of the hotel room bed. He released a slow, deep breath; it was a good job the speedster kid arrived when he did. The notion of being stranded in an alien land or, worse, a different time had gnawed at him with a ferocity that was hard to admit. Without Bart’s intervention, every one of Slade’s meticulously crafted plans would have been utterly dashed.
Facing him, a wall-mounted mirror caught his rugged reflection. Drawn to his own image, Slade studied the scars that mapped his trials, the slick white hair that crowned his head, and the deep lines etched into his face. A familiar discomfort nagged at him, focusing his attention on his right eye. Unable to alleviate the irritation through the skin, Slade exhaled heavily and carefully removed the eye altogether. The movement, fluid and practised, spoke of years of adaptation.
He placed the prosthetic gently on the bed beside him and as he massaged the socket, a decades-old habit, his mind wandered. He wasn't accustomed to keeping the prosthetic in for extended periods. Showering with it had been an uncomfortable experiment in necessity - he didn't like it, but understood the importance of maintaining the facade. The Slade he would have people believe he was would have never lost an eye, because that Slade had led a life far from by the darker paths Slade had truthfully trodden.
His thoughts wandered to his brief time wielding the potent powers of Dove, and Slade felt a twinge of regret at their loss. The clarity and strength those powers had provided were intoxicating, yet he recognised that he had a more important goal, one he couldn’t compromise. His current role demanded not the accumulation of power but the perfection of his deceit, ensuring that all believed he was not the Slade Wilson they knew, but a Reawakened, more innocent doppelganger.
Now, with the glass eye resting beside him, Slade stared at his unmasked visage. Maintaining the myth of the noble Slade was critical. The ruthless mercenary, the World’s Deadliest Killer - those identities had to remain buried. The Titans had believed him enough to entrust him with divine powers, their faith a testament to his performance, but the game was far from over; in fact, it was entering its most critical phase.
 
 
Next: Return to normality in The New Titans #10