When you’ve had any encounter with a narcissist or someone who you know is constantly living with a mask, they care so much about it to the point where they can even manipulate the situations and people around them to protect their reputation or how they’re perceived by others. For narcissists, their reputation is pretty much everything to them. So, why do they obsess so much over how they’re perceived by others?
See, at their core, narcissists are extremely insecure and feel inadequate and unlovable. When you lack something on a deep level, you try to prove your worth outwardly to mask the emptiness inside. That’s why their reputation becomes a treasure they go to desperate lengths to protect.
It provides temporary relief when they are admired and respected. This develops into a pseudo-self-esteem where they seem confident and look like they’ve got their act together, yet deep inside, they’re aching.
This also drives them to look for ways to fill their insatiable hunger as their ego seeks the next thing to maintain or elevate their reputation. As the ego becomes more solidified, they move further away from the pain they’re avoiding deep inside, the pain which need to be processed.
When you leave a wound untreated for a very long time, even a skilled doctor will struggle through layers of scab to get to the real wound. You also need to go to that doctor in the first place (willingness to heal/change).
That’s how it feels when you run away from the wound that needs healing. It gets to the point where more bandages are seen as the only option to keep things at bay. And that bandage for a narcissist is now protecting their reputation because without it, they would have to look at the wound they’ve unconsciously neglected for a long time.
So, in a way, it’s much easier and safer to manipulate and seek ways to protect that reputation than to deal with the actual source of the false identity.
That’s why narcissists may lash out or go haywire when you try to challenge them, as all those painful emotions bottled deep inside come to the surface. It’s an overwhelming feeling, and the ego resorts to any kind of defense mechanism to keep things where it’s used to. When you’re holding onto a false identity, it becomes like a lifeboat on which your dear life depends.
That’s what reputation or being perceived well by others looks like to a narcissist. Underneath that is a hurt person who has developed a shield over time, and without this shield, there is pain, or rather a lot of pain, which the mind has deemed unbearable.
That’s why a narcissist causes pain to others; in the grand scheme of things, they inflict pain to protect themselves from pain because they see no alternative. To someone with a clear mind, it is counterproductive, but if you've held onto an identity as part of yourself, you will rarely see beyond that veil of pain.
Inner work is for everyone, and however much we may label them as ‘evil’, just take some time and look at yourself. Sometimes, acceptance means realizing that there’s nothing you can do to change certain situations or help people out of their circumstances and being okay with that. Then, with your ‘slight advantage’, go all the way and remove the masks that are preventing you from seeing the true you beyond the beliefs and stories you’ve learned from others.
Note from the Author
If you’re ready and you’d like my help with healing, finding peace in life and breaking free from these toxic patterns, then you can book a FREE BREAKTHROUGH CALL with me HERE. Happy healing 💙💙. Feel free to share and comment! Use this information with caution, it comes from my own thoughts & bias, experiences and research😊.

AGENT NAME: bullseye
role: duelist
gender: male
nationality: icelandic
signature ability: mindblown
lasts for 15 seconds upon activating. if bulleseye gets a headshot kill during this time period, an alert will show for any enemy player within a 5 meter radius of the kill, if there are any players in the area after 2 seconds, they will get damaged for 50 and slowed and blinded for 3 seconds. 1 free use, recharges after 30 seconds
buyable ability: syphon radius
cost: 250 (can buy twice)
place a site sized radius anywhere on the map. (a map pop-up will show) a green line will show the outline of the radius. if 3 or more players are in the radius on the time of cast, bullseye will heal for any missing health or shield (if already max health then they will get overflow hp up to 200 that will last 10 seconds).
buyable ability: syphon shot
cost: 250 (can buy once)
spawns a powerful dart hat spawns in hand. does 30 damage to legs, 50 damage to body and 150 to head with no wallbang factor. it has 1 use and if the shot is hit then bullseye will heal to 100 hp (no overflow health or shield and nothing happens if already 100 hp)
ultimate: lock-on
points needed: 9
fully locks onto a player of choice. after casted, will show bullseye the amount of hp and shield they have, what gun they are using, what abilites they have left and can be fully seen through walls for the entire round (they will have a red outline) if bullseye is killed. they will turn into a ghost, in which they have 10 seconds to fly to a teammate to cast the ultimate effect onto them (the teammate will see all the info about the player)
**voicelines**
on kill: next target.
on kill: used 1 too many darts on that scallywag.
on headshot kill: bullseye.
on headshot kill: the wind worked in my favour.
on 3rd kill: im feeling alive!
on 4th kill: 1 more and im leaving to get some steak
on ace: the accuracy of my prime self is back.
on 6/7th kill: am i seeing things or what?
on lose streak: dont worry guys, i had a lose streak in my darts tournament then ended up winning, the exact same thing will happen here.
on win streak: im not even trying, are you?
ultimate (team pov): Hiding will not work.
ultimate (enemy pov): I know every single detail about you!
ultimate (locked on pov): no hard feelings chump

Please don't hesitate to contact me to discuss the sale of my sets at the prices listed below, payable in items.
If you're curious about why you should trust me, consider my extensive track record. I've successfully sold over 1000 sets from events like TI6, TI7, TI8, TI9, TI10, Nemestice, Aghanim's, and Diretide 2022 Collector's.
For checking my gifting Cache Sets history, feel free to review the comments on my profile and verify the sets in their inventory that were gifted by me.
In terms of transaction protocol, the buyer is always goes first. However, if you prefer an added layer of security, we can involve a middleman from this subreddit.
Regarding any concerns about scamming, it's simply not in my best interest. With over 800 cache sets available for sale, my focus is on providing a trustworthy and legitimate service.
Profile https://steamcommunity.com/profiles/76561198107212373

August 2023 Collector's Cache

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Primeval Abomination	Primal Beast	20+	$10
Astral Herald	Dawnbreaker	20+	$15
Taur Rider	Alchemist	20+	$10
Spectral Shadow	Abaddon	20+	$15
Crescent Huntress	Spectre	20+	$20
Tyrant of the Veil	Wraith King	20+	$15
Tomo'kan Footsoldier	Hoodwink	20+	$10
Darkwood Eulogy	Death Prophet	20+	$10
Sea Spirit	Kunka	20+	$20
Triumph of the Imperatrix	Legion Commander	20+	$10
Beast of Thunder	Storm Spirit	20+	$20
Ancestral Heritage	Jakiro	20+	$10
Dezun Viper	Dazzle	20+	$15
Brightfist	Marci	20+	$30
Snailfire	Snapfire	20+	$50

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache II

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Bird of Prey	Legion Commander	20+	$15
Grand Suppressor	Silencer	20+	$10
Darkbrew's Transgression	Alchemist	20+	$15
Transcendent Path	Oracle	20+	$15
The Wilding Tiger	Brewmaster	20+	$10
Dawn of a Darkness Foretold	Doom	20+	$15
Cursed Cryptbreaker	Pudge	20+	$15
Feasts of Forever	Night Stalker	20+	$10
Darkfeather Factioneer	Phantom Assassin	20+	$10
Withering Pain	Clinkz	20+	$10
Freeboot Fortunes	Ogre Magi	20+	$10
Acrimonies of Obsession	Vengeful Spirit	20+	$20
Sacred Chamber Guardian	Huskar	20+	$15
War Rig Eradicators	Techies	20+	$10
Grudges of the Gallows Tree	Treant Protector	20+	$25
Brands of the Reaper	Anti-Mage	20+	$40
Sublime Equilibrium	Void Spirit	20+	$50

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Shadowleaf Insurgent	Hoodwink	20+	$15
Scarlet Subversion	Riki	20+	$15
Whippersnapper	Snapfire	20+	$10
Hounds of Obsession	Chen	20+	$10
Seadog's Stash	Clockwork	20+	$10
Starlorn Adjudicator	Dawnbreaker	20+	$15
Spoils of the Shadowveil	Spectre	20+	$15
Chines of the Inquisitor	Faceless Void	20+	$10
Trophies of the Hallowed Hunt	Ursa	20+	$10
Crimson Dawn	Phoenix	20+	$10
Forgotten Station	Terrorblade	20+	$15
Dirge Amplifier	Undying	20+	$15
Champion of the Fire Lotus	Monkey King	20+	$10
Deathstitch Shaman	Witch Doctor	20+	$10
Blue Horizons	Marci	20+	$30
Angel of Vex	Invoker	20+	$50
Dark Behemoth	Primal Beast	20+	$50

Aghanim's 2021 Collector's Cache

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Scales of the Shadow Walker	Phantom Lancer	23	$15
Perception of the First Light	Dawnbreaker	22	$15
Apex Automated	Clockwerk	22 S	$15
Test of the Basilisk Lord	Razor	25	$10
Secrets of the Frost Singularity	Ancient Apparition	23	$8
Perils of the Red Banks	Chen	22	$10
The Chained Scribe	Grimstroke	24	$10
Widow of the Undermount Gloom	Broodmother	23 S	$15
Forgotten Fate	Mars	22	$5
March of the Crackerjack Mage	Rubick	24	$10
Cosmic Concoctioneers	Alchemist	23	$20
Blightfall	Abaddon	23	$15
Pyrexae Polymorph Perfected	Ogre Magi	25	$35

Nemestice Collector's Cache 2021

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Twilight Hex	Dark Willow	23 S	15$
Litany of the Damned	Doom	24	15$
Astral Terminus	Enigma	23	10$
Caerulean Star	Enchantress	22	10$
Arcane Inverter	Gyrocopter	22 S	25$
Creed of the Skullhound	Lycan	22 S	25$
Desert Bloom	Nature's Prophet	23	20$
Silence of the Starweaver	Oracle	23	10$
Eyriebound Imperator	Skywrath Mage	23	15$
Anthozoan Assault	Tiny	23	25$
Defender of the Brumal Crest	Winter Wyvern	10 S	10$
Red Sands Marauder	Shadow Shaman	23	20$
Footfalls of the Sporefathers	Witch Doctor	12	60$

Collector's Cache I 2020

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Ravenous Abyss	Underlord	20+	$15
Apocalypse Unbound	AA	20+	$10
Beholden of the Banished Ones	Warlock	20+	$15
Fury of the Righteous Storm	Disruptor	20+	$5
Mindless Slaughter	Pudge	20+	$20
Heartless Hunt	Bounty	20+	$15
Herald of the Ember Eye	Grimstroke	20+	$10
Fissured Flight	Jakiro	20+	$10
Flashpoint Proselyte	Husker	20+	$15
Signs of the Allfather	Nature prophet	20+	$15
Glory of the Elderflame	Lina	20+	$35
Origin of the Dark Oath	Night Stalker	6	$25
Songs of Starfall Glen	Enchantress	20+	$10
Ancient Inheritance	Tiny	20+	$30
Forsworn Legacy	mars	20+	$50

Collector's Cache II 2020

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Evolution of the Infinite	Enigma	20+	$6
Beast of the Crimson Ring	bristle back	20+	$15
Clearcut Cavalier	Timber	20+	$10
The King Of Thieves	Keeper of light	20+	$10
Horror from the Deep	Tide	20+	$20
Talons of the Endless Storm	chaos knight	20+	$15
Carousal of the Mystic Masquerade	Rubick	20+	$6
Crown of Calaphas	Shadow demon	20+	$15
Wrath of the Fallen	doom	20+	$20
Blacksail Cannoneer	Sniper	20+	$10
Secrets of the Celestial 📷	Skywrath mage	20+	$5
Blaze of Oblivion	Phoenix	20+	$10
Steward of the Forbidden Chamber	Templar Assassin	20+	$25
Claszureme Incursion	Void	20+	70$
Ire of the Ancient Gaoler	Arc Warden	6* C	35$
Master of the Searing Path	Ember Spirit	3* C	40$

Collector's Cache 2019

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Paean of the Ink Dragon	Grimstroke	1*C	15$
The Arts of Mortal Deception	Enigma	21	10$
Poacher's Bane	Tidehunter	20	10$
Soul of the Brightshroud	Death Prophet	21	10$
Curse of the Creeping Vine	Undying	6*C +1	25$
Appetites of the Lizard King	Slark	18	25$
Riddle of the Hierophant	Oracle	20	10$
Defender of Ruin	Disruptor	22	25$
Allure of the Faeshade Flower	Dark Willow	4 * C - 1 reserved	25$
Pursuit of the Ember Demons	Huskar	4* C	25$
Forbidden Medicine	Dazzle	3* C	35$
Priest of the Proudsilver Clan	Chen	4* C	15$

Collector's Cache II 2019

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Sight of the Kha-Ren Faithful	Drow Ranger	31	15$
Tribal Pathways	Warlock	30	10$
Directive of the Sunbound	Clockwerk	31	10$
Endless Night	Abaddon	30	15$
Dapper Disguise	Pudge	27	15$
Fury of the Bloodforge	Bloodseeker	30	15$
Automaton Antiquity	Broodmother	31	10$
Grim Destiny	Wraith King	29	10$
Distinguished Expeditionary	Tusk	30	10$
Verdant Predator	Venomancer	31	10$
Prized Acquisitions	Batrider	31	5$
Fowl Omen	Necrophos	34	30$
Echoes of the Everblack	Abaddon	4*C	25$
Souls Tyrant	Shadow Fiend	1 * C	45$
Tales of the Windward Rogue	Pangolier	3 * C	45$

The International 2018 Collector's Cache I

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Trail of the Sanguine Spectrum	Bloodseeker	20	10$
Insights of the Sapphire Shroud	Dark Seer	18	4$
Pillar of the Fractured Citadel	Spirit Breaker	21	$10
Molokau Stalker	Venomancer	21	$10
Morbific Provision	Witch Doctor	22	10$
Raptures of the Abyssal Kin	Queen of Pain	20	15$
Grasp of the Riven Exile	Weaver	20	5$
Fate Meridian	Invoker	2 *C	30$
Visions of the Lifted Veil	Phantom Assassin	1 *C	40$
Grasp of the Riven Exile	Weaver	4 *C	20$

The International 2018 Collector's Cache II

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Pitmouse Fraternity	Meepo	37	10$
Fires of the Volcanic Guard	Ember Spirit	37	10$
Shackles of the Enduring Conscript	Axe	37 S	6$
Shimmer of the Anointed	Nyx Assassin	29	5$
Loaded Prospects	Brewmaster	39	15$
Ire of Molten Rebirth	Phoenix	36	10$
Pattern of the Silken Queen	Broodmother	26	5$
Third Awakening	Dragon Knight	7 *C -2nonR	35$
Dread Ascendance	Doom	5 *C	40$
Raiments of the Obsidian Forge	Underlord	22	20$

The International 2017 Collector's Cache

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Rumrunner's Carronade	Brew master	20	15$
Abyssal Vortex	Enigma	27	10$
Samareen Sacrifice	Huskar	22	10$
Shadowforce Gale	Luna	24	20$
Mechalodon Interdictor	Gyrocopter	27 + 3*C	15$
Cunning Corsair	Riki	24	20$
Pressure Regulator	Clockwerk	3 *C	20$
Meranth Dragoon	Sven	2 *C	35$
The Dread Prophet	Nature's Prophet	2 *C	35$
Riptide Raider	Monkey King	2 *C - 1nonrev	20$

The International 2016 Collector's Cache

Set name	Hero	Quantity	$$
Nightsilver's Resolve	luna	2 M* dtygod*	20$
Oni Knight the Dark Conqueror	Chaos Knight	3C + 2 dtygod dopey*	20$
Rising Glory	Magnus	2C+ 1 moiz	20$
Dirgeful Overlord	Undying	3 *C	25$
Iceburnt Elegy	Winter Wyvern	1 *C	25$
Wartorn Heavens	Zeus	1 *C	35$

I've updated my policy and no longer entertain joy riders. If you're interested in adding me, I request a $3 deposit in items upon adding me.
This $3 deposit will be deducted from your total set cost.
Please refrain from adding me if you're not comfortable with the listed prices.
Keep in mind that prices are subject to change, and sets may go out of stock even if you're waiting for one, as someone else may purchase it before you.
If you're interested in reserving sets, please make sure to do so.

Free shipping
If interested, please send me a PM to purchase!
PayPal invoice only
Chrome Hearts Trucker Hats
$20 each or two for $30
Tagged photos
https://imgur.com/a/nPq2w9b (Hats)
https://imgur.com/a/CjZDUQL (Jewelry
Prices are as listed below in the tagged photos
All Items are made from 925 Silver
Image 1: Cuban Links
All chains in this picture are 22 inches
Cuban Link with Accents - $50
Cuban Link- $50
Large Paperlink Chain-$50
Image 2: Wallet Chains
All Wallet Chains are $50 each
Image 3: Bracelets
Plain Cuban Link Bracelet - $40
Cuban Link Bracelet with Motiffs- $40
Plain Cuban Link with Flower on Buckle -$40
Dice Bracelet- $40
Mini Cross Bracelet- $40
Paperlink Bracelet - $30
Image 4:
Mini Cross Necklace- $40
Paperlink Necklace - $30
Paperlink Necklace with Dagger or Mini Cross Pendant- $40
Dagger Pendant (comes with bead chain)- $30
Mini Cross Pendant (comes with bead chain) -$35
Image 5:
Big Boy Cuban Link- $60
Image 6 & 7
Dagger Bangle Bracelet (adjustable) - $35

Hey all! I'm Tyler, 25 from the UK and if you can't tell from the title ? I'm in the Army and have been the last 8 years! I'm 6'3, 25 and weight about 12 stone. With work, life can get a bit hectic so hopefully I can find someone who can appreciate and accept that my life can't revolve around someone but I can give you whatever time I can if we click!
My work pattern at the minute is 5 days on, 4 days off! In my free time I love to read, specifically in the fantasy genre! I'm currently reading Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson!

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
We pulled off I-51 a little after midnight, stopping at a truck stop which was couched between the highway and a large forest.
We waited in the van for ten minutes or so. Trent had increased the sonar radius to its maximum of 30 miles a little over an hour ago. Somehow the red pings had kept up with us, holding a steady distance of around 20 miles. Considering we were averaging around 80 mph, and a coyote's top speed is only around 40 mph, we figured they had been enhanced in some way. Either that, or they shape-shifted into something faster. Regardless, now that we had stopped, we waited to see if the demon spawn would try and close the distance. Luckily, or unluckily, they didn't. They kept their 20 mile buffer, but we noticed they were beginning to spread out along the circumference of that boundary.
"We're close. They know that, so they're trying to trap us in." Trent said.
"Trying to?—more like they have."
We considered whether we should stay in the van and keep watch, but we figured that would do us little good. At their speed, they could be on us in ten minutes, which means we would need to stay up all night and keep tabs on their positions. Trent offered to stay up, of course, but I shut him down.
"The demon doesn't want to kill us now. You said it yourself. Plus, we need our rest. If they come, they come."
Trent didn't like it, but he acquiesced.
The truck stop had all the essentials: a gas station and mini mart with showers and an attached McDonald's, a large parking lot for truckers to idle and sleep, and even a section with lodging for those who wanted a more comfortable night's rest. I told Trent that he should take advantage of the showers, and after a little convincing, he agreed. While he was cleaning himself up, I patrolled the dingy, half-stocked aisles of "Daisy's Quick Mart". I probably would have been appalled at the quality of the store had I actually been paying any attention to it whatsoever. But I wasn't. I was thinking hard about what awaited me tomorrow.
During the drive, I had asked Trent why the demon would want us to return to the crash site. What did he mean that I would be 'confronting a dark entity in a place he couldn't help me'? He seemed hesitant to answer, but my little stunt outside the storage facility seemed to have sufficiently motivated him.
"When I said I've never done this before, I meant it." Trent started. "I've never done this exact thing before—meaning I've never projected someone into the past."
"So, I'm time traveling?" I asked.
"No—don't think of it like that." Trent paused, trying to come up with a good explanation. "It's more like I'm opening a window for you to look through: not a door. You're going to see the past, but you can't interact with the physicalities there. But that doesn't mean you can't interact with anything."
There was a space of silence as Trent tried to let me work out his meaning for myself. "I don't get it. Are you saying there's something I can interact with? Like what?" And then it hit me. "The demon. The demon can interact with me? Meaning what? It can kill me?"
"Meaning… I'm not exactly sure. You're going to be in a kind of psychic space. If it does damage, it won't be to your body. It'll be to your mind—or spirit. But I don't know what the limits of that damage could be. I just don't have those answers."
"If you've never done this, how do you know any of it will work?"
"That's an easy one." Trent answered. "Because it's been done to me."
There was silence.
"Look, if I know anything, I know my tech. Don't doubt that this will work. It's my job to make sure it does. I just need you to be in the right mental for this. Just because it knows your coming doesn't mean it automatically has the upper hand. It won't be able to see you unless you make contact with it first. In other words, you have to initiate contact. As long as you remain a spectator, you should be okay. Trust me. Just don't make contact."
I started pacing faster—fast enough to catch the attention of the overnight shift worker, a young man whose name I can't quite remember. I know it started with a "J". Jake, maybe? Anyway, he asked if I was alright, to which I responded in the affirmative. He left me alone for another couple passes, but when I almost ran into one of the shelves, he stood up and said, "Uh—I'm going to have to ask you to stop running around. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
I must have stared daggers at him, because he recoiled from my gaze. What's gotten into me? I thought. Then, steadying myself, I apologized. I looked around and grabbed the nearest edible looking piece of merchandise: a bag of Swedish Fish, and placed it down on the counter. "Just this, please."
The cashier rang me up. It was surprisingly cheap.
"Are you sure you're alright?" the young man asked. He was tall with brown hair. He seemed tired—maybe even more tired than me. But he also seemed kind.
I smiled as best I could and said, "No, I'm not. But there's not really anything you can do. Hell, there might not be anything I can do." I furrowed my eyebrows at my own response, realizing that imminent death may have broken my verbal filter.
On the other hand, the cashier did not seem surprised at all. "Ah, I see. It's one of those problems." He responded. "Well, hey, for what it's worth, you seem like one of the resilient ones. I think you'll be alright."
I only smiled and nodded at his mildly cryptic comment. Looking back, the whole interaction was a bit strange, but I had way too much mental clutter to recognize that in the moment. I took my Swedish Fish and walked through the anteroom which led to McDonald's. I found an open yellow booth that wasn't littered with crumpled straw sleeves and sat down, chomping mindlessly on my little red fish until Trent returned. When he arrived, he took my place, and I went to shower. After we were both clean and fed, we returned to the van. The pings were still pushed safely out of harm's way. But that didn't mean we were out of harm's way. Trent asked me if I wanted to sleep in the van, saying that "it'd be the safest place."
I thought it over. He was right, obviously. The van was not only outfitted with weapons I couldn't even begin to understand, but it was also our escape, and it would be just as difficult, if not more difficult to break into than the studio-style motel rooms with their wood doors and big windows. Still, if this was going to be my last night on earth, I wanted to sleep in a bed. A real bed. Trent understood and said he'd stay parked right outside my room for the night.
After purchasing a key from the night attendant, I moseyed over to the cement walkways which connected the twenty or so rooms. Mine was room #56, which I thought was odd since, like I said, there were only 20 rooms. I lugged in my tomato plushie and dad's old book and placed them on the queen mattress.
"I'll be right outside." Trent said after I collapsed onto the bed.
"Trent," I called out, stopping him half-way through the door.
"Yeah?"
All the blood in my body rushed up to my face as I realized my unfiltered mouth almost reflexively said the word "stay". I stared at Trent, my heart beating, my face hot. I considered asking him to sleep on the floor like my dad, but that would be childish and impolite. The alternative was to share my bed… Or I could take the floor.
"I'll just be right outside." Trent said before my mind processed a solution. "Come by if you need anything. I'll be up most of the night anyway."
"Okay," I replied in a faint voice.
Trent shut the door.
I sat atop the bedsheets and acquainted myself with my new living space. A feeling of regret closed over me as I considered that even sleeping on a carseat would have been better if it meant I didn't have to be alone. With a sigh, I turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed the book and stuffed tomato, using the tomato as a backrest as I slipped my legs under the covers and situated the book upright on my thighs. I cracked it open and was immediately blasted with a puff of dusty, old book scent. It was ripe at first, and I turned my head away to sneeze, but as I perused through the pages, the scent grew on me. It reminded me of the days growing up when I'd step into dad's study and read through one of the many volumes on cryptic topics which were at least two college degrees above my Lexile range.
I was only a couple minutes into browsing the collection of different scientific and philosophical works when I came across a page which contained highlighted text. This was unusual, as my dad would never mark up his books. He was a purist on that point. I rubbed my thumb over the yellow lines, and sure enough, it was highlighter.
The highlighted text was part of a small book by Carl Jung called "Synchronicity". There were a total of three pages that were marked, and they advanced like this:
Page 5:
The philosophical principle that underlies our conception of natural law is causality*. But if the connection between cause and effect turns out to be only statistically valid and relatively true, then the causal principle is only of relative use for explaining natural processes… That is as much to say that the connection of events may in certain circumstances be other than causal, and require another principle of explanation.*
Page 19:
…there are events which are related to one another experimentally, and in this case meaningfully*, without there being any possibility of proving that this relation is a causal one, since the "transmission" exhibits none of the known properties of energy…a situation which does not yet exist and will only occur in the future could transmit itself as a phenomenon of energy to a receiver in the present…Therefore, it cannot be a question of cause and effect, but of a falling together in time, a kind of simultaneity... "synchronicity"*
Page 22:
A young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window pane from outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab that one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer… which contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt an urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment.
I flipped through the rest of the pages of the book. There was no more highlighted text, but there was a message on the last page which read:
Matthew 7:7-8
I'll meet you in the darkest place.
He also included his typical smiley face which had an ovular shape and three sprouts of hair which I now realized kind of resembled my tomato plushie. It was my dad's writing, of course. But why? And how? What did this mean?
The motel had a Bible stashed away in the nighstand drawer. I got it out and looked up the verses which read the following:
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
I spent maybe an hour ruminating on all of this. The whole discourse on energy and causality and a "falling together in time" just seemed so right. It was clear that my dad definitely did know what I was going through, but for whatever reason, he made it seem like he was oblivious. Why had he hidden that from me? I felt like I was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, my dad loved me enough to leave this note, maybe even knowing the exact moment I'd need it. But on the other hand, he had neglected my struggles throughout my entire childhood. He even lied at times. Was this really enough to make up for all of that?
And then there was the section about the future transmitting energy to the past. I read back through the whole paragraph and the original writer had meant it to say this as something that wasn't possible, but my dad's highlighting made it seem like he wanted to flip the meaning. The future does affect the past. I thought about where I was headed and wondered if I would soon discover that for myself.
Lastly, dad's message. The Bible verse reminded me of the first time I prayed; how I reached out to God and received peace as an answer to my prayer. Now I feel like I'm actively seeking… something, but I don't know yet what I'll find. And then there's knocking. At first that reminded me of the story with the beetle tapping on the window, but then I went back even deeper in my memory and dug out the monster tapping at my window, and the words my dad spoke to me in order to set my mind at ease: "you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is? Your greatest power is you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them…so if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story."
I was crying into my stuffed tomato now. I felt like all the blinking pieces of my life had finally been pulled together into a completed puzzle. This was all by design. My entire life, filled with so much chaos and confusion, was actually preparing me for this moment. And my dad thought I had the tools and strength enough to get through it. I flipped through the book one more time, thinking maybe he had left some other hidden comment—some formula to defeat this demon and return home. But there was nothing. Only that one comment: "I'll meet you in the darkest place."
What's the darkest place, dad? Is that where I'm going? Are you saying you'll be there, too?
With those thoughts in mind, my eyes became heavy shutters which, with a slight pressure on the pulley, winded shut. My swimming thoughts and firework-like fears dissipated, and I returned to a precious childhood memory. It was after an evening soccer practice. Summer. Dad was driving me to Dairy Queen. I got a cherry-dipped twist cone. I was happy.
So, so happy.
***
I woke up to sunlight blaring through my windows. Shit, I overslept, was my immediate thought. I threw off my covers and opened the front door. A glance at the clock showed 1:13 PM. I shouldn't have even been allowed to stay checked in this long. Damn, am I gonna get double-billed for this?
I heard a rummaging sound around the corner of my motel room. It sounded like a squirrel was trying to find an afternoon snack in one of the garbage bins. I stepped outside. The sun was extremely bright, to the point where I had to squint and put my hand over my eyes to even see the ground in front of me. I was trying to walk toward the van, but somehow I ended up in front of the trash bins where the animal's tail was sticking out from a turned-over, silver garbage can. Its tail was wagging excitedly, and I remember thinking that it was much too large to be a squirrel.
The animal bent down as if biting onto something, and I heard the sound of its growl as it struggled to tug whatever it was free from the barrel. Inch by inch, the creature backed out of the canister, and more of its sharp, sticky hair was revealed. I heard something snap, then the creature leapt back and I saw what it was chomping on. My eyes widened in horror as the pink tube of a human intestine was pulled taut like the end of a tangled hose. Blood and entrails were spilling out of the human's opened gut. And then, behind the canine, I saw the person's face. His face was pale white, his eyes closed, and his hair was slicked back… It was Trent.
Before I could react, I heard footsteps approaching from behind. I whirled around and saw my dad. But—no, it wasn't him. It was someone wearing a paper-mache face mask that was painted to look like my dad. The forehead of the mask was already beginning to crack, white specks breaking off like sawdust. Through the cracks, I could see the figure's true form. I didn't know darkness had its own type of light, but that's the only way to describe it. It was as if malevolence itself was reified into a skin which was actually an amalgamation of millions of little, oozing parasites that leached into the nearby light. When it finally spoke, the demon's voice was a full octave lower than the old man's at the deli. And it had an earth-stilling gravitas.
"Today's the day!" He sang and reached into his pocket. His lips curled upward into a foxy smirk. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day." He said and held up a razor blade. Half his facade had already fallen apart, and now I could see the bugs up close, writhing in what was either horror or ecstasy. And his scent… it was somehow more rank than the rabid coyote rummaging through the trash can with Trent's cut open body inside. The demon closed in on my position, and in one, decisive motion, he brought the blade close to his chin, then sliced it across my throat. "Wake up!" He screamed.
I jumped out of my bed and grabbed my throat, feeling the cold sting of its quick slice. Hyperventilating, I patted the area down, trying to hold the blood in, but when I removed my hands, I saw they were dry. It was only a dream, I thought. Gray light was only beginning to filter in through the drapes. I'm in my hotel room. I'm safe. I tried consoling, but the pragmatic mental massages weren't enough to hold the force of my knees buckling. I dropped onto the carpet and cried for a long while.
Outside, rain was beginning to fall.
***
By the time I met up with Trent, I had already composed myself and decided to keep my dad's message and the nightmare to myself. None of it seemed particularly productive from a logistical standpoint, anyway. And I wanted to focus on the mission.
We stopped by McDonald's and bought a couple cups of coffee. Trent asked if I wanted any food, and I declined. Black coffee seemed like the only thing my stomach could take at the present moment. I could tell Trent was hungry, but he tried playing it off (I guess to be respectful of me?) I told him to knock it off and get something to eat. I didn't need my Charon getting lightheaded and dropping the paddle before he finished rowing me to Hell. He didn't care much for my joke, but he ordered a couple Chicken McGriddles at the kiosk anyway.
There were maybe ten patrons spread throughout the restaurant. We sat down at the same booth from the prior night, this time across from one another. Trent spent the first ten minutes or so babbling about our fuel supply and the logistics of the trip from here on in. Practical stuff. I've come to realize that's how he deals with his stress. He talks it out in short, durable sentences. I mostly nodded and watched as what looked like a storm front closed in on the truck stop. The sky was overcast, and there were darker clouds in the distance. The rain was still only a patter, but a middle-aged man wearing a yellow bow tie on the wall-mounted TV confirmed that there would be heavier rain and thunderstorms very soon.
After the worker delivered Trent's food and he ate it in record time, I posed the one question that was still on my mind.
"How do I fight him?" I asked.
Trent finished a large gulp of his coffee, then looked at me. It was the first substantial thing I'd said all morning; Trent could tell something was off with me, but he figured there was no point in asking what it was. "By 'him', I assume you mean the demon?"
I nodded.
Trent licked his teeth clean. "You could try praying again."
"I'm serious," I responded.
"I'm serious, too. It worked before, didn't it?"
"You mean at my house?"
Trent nodded.
"I thought you weren't a religious man?"
"I'm not. Just a practical one. If praying worked before, maybe it'll work again."
"That's the best you've got? A maybe?"
"No, I've got a lot of shit better than a maybe." He answered. "It's just not accessible where you're going. Which is why I recommend not making contact on the first run."
"First run? So we're going to do this more than once?"
"At least," Trent answered. Then, seeing my expression, he continued. "What? You thought this was going to be a one-and-done? We have to conduct some research first. I did tell you this was new for me, right?"
Somehow Trent's response had set my mind at ease a little. I was going to have more than one chance. Of course, why wouldn't I be able to go back more than once?
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier? It would have gone a long way in easing my mind."
Trent lifted his hands in defense. "Sorry, I just thought that was a given. I mean, what we're doing is dangerous, just like I said, but it doesn't mean we aren't going to approach this as safely and scientifically as possible. However, there is a different problem with running multiple trials."
"The Organization?"
"That's right," Trent said like a proud parent. "Our little experiment will be like a giant spotlight, and the longer we wait around after it's on us, the greater the chance we'll have unwelcome company."
"So, safe but speedy."
"Safe but speedy. Exactly."
***
We fueled up and were back on the road a little after 8:00. From that point on, Trent and I were absolutely silent. I had the distinct feeling of being in the eye of a storm. The pings moved closer commensurate with our progress toward the crash site. The cloudfront continued its advance. And I noticed a haze beginning to descend onto the road ahead of us. It was fog.
We meandered further inland, the forest thickening around us until the rain almost stopped entirely—the leaves drinking it up before it fell onto our windshield. I kept my eyes on the radar. We were approaching the large yellow circle which indicated we had arrived. As we pulled closer, I began to feel things. Fear. Eeriness. Doubt. Then happiness. Hope. Love. Normally feelings like these had a clear source to picture, but these sensations came on in waves without any discernible reason. It was almost as if they were blinking into existence inside me.
"Here we go," Trent said like an airline pilot readying his crew for turbulence.
I still recall the exact moment we crossed the boundary into the area of higher energy. It was like something just "clicked" in my brain, and all of a sudden everything felt so much closer. The sound of the rain against the trees was almost right next to my ear. The trees in the distance would oscillate between their position a half-mile out, then suddenly seem five meters away. If I focused on something long enough, it began to radiate those same ethereal particles as when Trent released Ava's "phase lock". I checked to make sure the shifter wasn't set to "TD". Sure enough, it was still in drive.
"Can you see them?" Trent asked. "The shifts?"
"Yeah," I said in a dreamy voice. I felt like I was driving through a wonderland.
"It's the energy. I barely notice a difference. A bit of movement in the trees, but not much else. But I'm sure for you, it's a whole experience."
"What is this?" I raised my hand and caught some of the pixel dust dripping off the sun visor. It disappeared when it made contact with my hand.
"It's a kind of radiation. Everything emits it, just in different quantities. I'm still not exactly sure how it relates to the other realms, but I'm guessing it's a kind of primordial matter that helps connect our worlds."
"It's beautiful," I exclaimed. "I wish I could see the world like this all the time."
"Maybe you will," Trent whispered.
As we arrived at the crash site, I began to get glimpses of the past. My childhood dreams and memories were pushing their way out from my subconscious. I noticed an increased number of blinks, which were validated by Ava who reported the following: "Currently detecting 14,350 novel emergences and 2,777 controlled agents. Net anomalies: 2,777."
"That's a lot of blinks." I remarked. "Why doesn't Ava include them in the net anomalies?"
Trent turned his head so I could see his smirk. "Because blinks aren't anomalies."
I thought about it for a second. Blinks aren't anomalies. "I never thought about it that way."
"It's hard to think about it that way when 'normal' for most people means not picking up on a fundamental aspect of reality. But that doesn't make it any less real."
We continued past the epicenter of the yellow circle. "Are we not stopping?" I asked. "I think we already passed the crash site."
"It doesn't have to be exactly at the site," Trent said. "Plus, we don't want to stop on the side of the road and risk getting some civilian involved. There's a field about half a mile up ahead. I'm going to pull off the road and set up camp there.
The "field" that Trent was referring to was actually a large clearing that dipped down into several trench-like troughs which were filled to the brim with fog like witches cauldrons. Further on in the distance, I saw open fields, probably used for farming, and then a large hill where the trees once again reasserted themselves. We had pulled off the road and up a small incline where the trees had already been broken down, leaving a trail for us to drive through. When we surfaced at the edge of the clearing, Trent pulled us onto a flat bed of dried mud which was maybe thirty yards long.
"Here," he said with a sigh.
We both sat for a minute, looking around at the field. We had finally arrived. The rain was beginning to pick up, and the dark sky made it almost impossible to discern the time of day.
"You ready?" Trent asked.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. In his blue eyes. Was I ready? Did it even matter?
"Let's do this," I said.
***
This was the first time I was really able to inspect the back of Trent's van. He had talked up his gear a lot, and honestly, I was impressed. Not in the way that a scientist is impressed by another scientist's lab—I wasn't any kind of expert—but it still seemed remarkably well managed. Now that I was in a state where my vision had been enhanced, I could actually see the enigmatic particles circulating through the pneumatic tubes which were coiled like the pipes and valves of an elaborate wind instrument. The walls of the van, itself, were glistening white, making it easier to make out everything else inside. Along the floor were five overturned columns. Each column was dark and had a vibrating quality, as if they were charged with energy. Then atop the center three columns was a small altar which supported an apparatus with two skinny, metal arms holding a silver halo. At present, the arms were folded and the halo was suspended a few inches above the altar, faced-down. I thought maybe I'd see particles exuding from it, but instead it was emitting visible waves which bent and warped everything they touched.
"That thing is emitting a lot of energy." I remarked, gesturing toward the halo.
Trent stepped in between the columns and started pulling out the packages he had stuffed in there yesterday. "Just wait till' it's on."
Most of the packages contained only a single piece of equipment, and were otherwise packed with foam peanuts. We carefully removed each box and set them on the ground outside. I asked if the rain would damage any of the stuff inside, to which Trent only laughed and continued lugging out the boxes. When they were all out, Trent removed a box cutter from his pocket and went one-by-one opening them. There were eight pieces in total.
"What is it?" I asked as we fished the first item out.
"It's another apparatus, like the one inside. Except it'll mount on the ground out here."
I pulled out what looked like a metal tripod.
"Good, that'll go on the bottom."
"Where are we setting it up?"
"Over here," Trent said and stepped five paces away from the van. He coordinated himself up so he was centrally aligned with the inner ring, then stomped a few times. "This is the spot."
As we continued to work, I asked Trent about how the whole contraption works.
"Do you remember the first time we were in the van? When we had to escape from the semi-truck?" Trent asked and connected a secondary mounting apparatus on top of the tripod. It had four spider-like legs that made right angles and stuck into the ground.
"Of course," I said. "The 'phase lock'."
"Yeah," Trent said and gestured toward the metal stick that was in my hand. I handed it to him. "The phase lock is a seal on the level of energy that the van is allowed to release. It also controls its dispersion pattern so that it releases its energy in a steady wave. This allows Ava to scan for anomalies without causing us to become an anomaly." Trent stuck the plank into the neck of the tripod.
"So when you released the phase lock, we started emitting more energy."
"That's right." Trent confirmed. "Enough to create an alternate route through a different realm."
"So we blinked into a different realm, then back, just to avoid that truck?"
"That's right."
"But why couldn't we just move out of the way?"
"Because it had locked onto us. It was tracking our motion and adjusting its course based on the amount of energy we were emitting. So in order to escape, we had to radically skew our potential energy and then use it to shift."
"Couldn't he have just followed us?"
Trent connected four more pieces to the device which now looked like an elaborate teepee. He was fishing in the last box when he spoke again. "Yeah, he could have. But it was highly improbable that he would have found us." Trent returned from the bottom of the box with another silver ring in hand. "Think of it like this. Let's say you're trying to escape from some bad guy who's coming after you, and you enter a new room you've never seen before. Would you prefer this room to have three doors to go through, or ten?"
I thought about his riddle for a second, then responded, "It depends where they go."
Trent fastened the ring atop the teepee. "Let's say they all lead to random places, or let's say they're all closets that lead nowhere. The key is that more is better, because the more doors he has to check, the less likely he is to pick the correct one. Make sense?"
"So we opened up a bunch of doors and escaped through one at random?"
"Hence the gear 'TD', for 'Trap Door'."
I marveled at the insights, but not for long. Trent hopped back in the van and pulled a lever that I hadn't seen until now. The two metal arms raised the inner ring until it was perpendicular with the altar. Then Trent clicked one of three red buttons along the back wall, and I saw what looked like a large, glass eye suspended in a magnifying glass protruding from the wall, aligned with the center of both rings. A couple seconds later, the glass eye began to focus the energy which was being fed to it from the pneumatic tubes, and a blue pyramid of light projected from it into the first ring, then from the first ring into the second ring. All three pieces were aligned at slightly diminishing heights, so the cylinder of light beamed through the second ring, into the ground.
"Alright, time for the first trial."
I felt the nerves starting up in my stomach. Trent sensed this and hopped out of the truck. It was raining quite hard now, though it was still warm. Both Trent and I were soaked, but that hardly concerned us. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "I know you're feeling scared." He said. "But trust me on this. You're going to do fine. Just keep in mind what we talked about. Stay a spectator. Okay?"
I looked into his blue eyes, which seemed especially gray in the dark. Still, Trent's voice was reassuring. All I had to do was trust him. Trust myself. Trust my dad. And it was all going to turn out right.
"I'm ready," I said.
Trent was still for a second, holding my eyes in his. Then he guided me behind the outer ring and into the cylinder of light.
"I should step into it now?" I asked, afraid I'd be called away immediately.
"It's not on yet, so don't worry. I still have to press another button."
I followed Trent's instructions and stood in the blue light which was centered on my chest. Then I watched as Trent ran into the back of the van and posted up next to the glass eye. "Ready?" He yelled out. It was hard to hear him over the rain, but I yelled back. "Ready!"
The next thing I saw was a blinding blue light beam from the van. I heard what sounded like a laser, then saw the cylinder oscillate, expanding and compressing. When the energy reached the second ring, I saw everything around me light up—it looked brighter than noon on a cloudless day. Then the oscillations made their way to me, and I was swallowed up whole.
***
When I came to, I was in the backseat of a car. I felt my butt rumbling. Everything was dim and quiet. And then I heard a woman's voice from in front of me.
"Mark, please, not with Lauren in the back."
The man, who I now identified as my father, pulled the cigarette away from his lips and blew the smoke at my mom. He eyed the back seat where I was sitting, using one of five markers that hadn't rolled off my lap to color a rabbit in my animal color book.
"The kid's fine." he said and took another drag.
"Mark," my mom repeated.
I saw my dad raise his hand in a rapid motion. "I said she's fine, Cheryl. Now check the map and make sure we're going the right away. I can't see shit with all this fog."
I took a moment to make sure I was really in the back seat. I patted myself. I clearly had weight. Then I tried touching the car. At first, my fingertips met a solid surface, but when I tried to press through, my hand slipped into the car. I quickly pulled my hand away as if I had reached into a fire.
That's when I heard the little three year old next to me start crying. I turned and saw that little-me had dropped another couple markers onto the ground and was struggling to reach them.
"Hey!" my dad shouted. "What did I say about crying?"
"Quit it, Mark. She just dropped her markers." said my mom; she turned to help me pick them up.
"What did you say to me?" Mark spat with a voice full of guile. He reached out and pushed her back into her seat. "Don't," he commanded. "She has to learn how to deal with life."
"Deal…" My mom started in disbelief. "Deal with life? Do you hear yourself? What's gotten into you?"
"Sometimes shit happens. It doesn't give her the right to cry. You helping her is just going to reinforce her behavior."
"Her behavior? What about your behavior? You're acting like a total dick."
I didn't even have a moment to react before my dad's hand was across my mom's face. I felt the slap more than I heard it, my own face seeming to swell with the force of the blow. I saw my mom cover her mouth and lean away. Then little-me began to cry even louder, which only challenged my dad to step up his own volume.
"Everyone needs to get a fucking grip before I crash this car." My dad shouted and took another drag. The scariest part was I couldn't tell if he was warning us or threatening us. I felt the sudden urge to do something. There was no way this was real. I was definitely in some fantasy concocted by the demon. He wanted to turn me against my dad. That was the only explanation for something like this. My dad was a good man, not… this.
As I contemplated what to do, I saw a small, golden light appear behind little-me's window. Apparently she saw it, too, because her cries hushed as she traced the wisp with her eyes. After a second, the wisp transformed into a bunny rabbit, reminiscent of the one she was coloring. The rabbit hopped alongside the window, then did a couple circles in place. I watched little me let out a playful laugh and reach toward the window.
"What's going on back there?" my dad asked with a scowl. Apparently the only sound more disturbing than cries were laughs.
I looked back to the front and saw my mom wiping blood from her lip. Her expression was miserable. "Leave her alone, Mark."
"I'll do whatever I damn well want to do, Cheryl. It's my kid back there."
My mom was quiet.
When I looked back toward the rabbit, it was no longer a rabbit but a person. Or at least it looked like a person. The figure radiated pure gold, and atop his head was what appeared to be a King's crown. I recalled Allison's experience of seeing the sun-like figure in her moment of distress. Was that what was happening here? Was this really all true?
"Hey!" My dad shouted, eyeing little-me from the rear-view mirror. "What are you reaching at?"
I looked and saw the golden figure extending his hand toward the window, and little me's hand was reaching back. "Mom, dad, it bright." little-me said.
"What's bright, honey?" my mom asked.
"Don't encourage her, Cheryl."
"Someone there!" little me shouted happily and dropped the rest of the markers and the coloring book onto the ground.
"Who's there?" asked my mom.
"Cheryl, I swear to God. Sit the fuck down."
Everything from that moment on happened so quickly I barely had any time to process it. My mom lifted out of her seat to either get little me's attention or help me pick up my coloring book. My dad responded by grabbing onto her throat, letting go of the steering wheel entirely. He threw her back against the car door, and her head hit the window so hard, the glass cracked. My dad had dropped his cigarette, and I could smell smoke coming from under his seat, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. He turned toward little-me at the same moment my three-year-old hand reached out and grabbed onto the golden figure, whose hand diffused through the window. When my dad turned, I got a whiff of the most awful smell that I wouldn't have been able to place had I not had that nightmare last night. He grabbed onto little-me's shoulder and tugged her away from the golden figure that was trying to pull her the other way. My dad's facade began to crack, and I could see those dark bugs crawling out from the pores in his arms, marching down toward little-me.
I reacted.
I grabbed onto my dad's arm and pulled him off little-me. I heard the sound of my shirt ripping as she was torn from his grip and pulled out of the car, diffusing through it like a ghost. My brief victory was immediately overturned as I saw what was now clearly the demon smiling at me, his wretched fingers curled around my forearm.
"Caught you," He sneered.
Then the whole world once again diffused into countless numbers of particles, only this time, instead of riding through it, I felt like I was falling through an elevator shaft with each floor darker than the last. The further I fell, the less I became aware of my surroundings, and the more I felt a deep sense of loneliness. It was as if I was the only person in the whole world: and the whole world was a prison designed entirely for me. This went on for so long, I began to forget who I was. Where I was. What was.
And then I landed.
***
Source Used:
Jung, Carl. Synchronicity. Translated by Sonu Shamdasani, Princeton University Press, 2010.

If you bought the gun range for your bunker, you know that there are 18 challenges-- 6 weapons in 3 difficulty tiers. Completing all of these is part of your career achievement (only for next gen consoles maybe? +/- PC?).
When I was looking for information on completing it, I repeatedly saw comments that it was impossible or nearly impossible, and many suggestions for a commonly known exploit. The other main advice is to get good.
I'm here to tell you that even for someone with average to below average aim, you can get it done (without exploits). I did pick up a few bits of helpful information along the way, but I am by no means an expert, so I'm hoping others can either offer additional feedback, or even criticize the advice I give if it doesn't work for you.
ALL WEAPONS
Take note of what weapon you're using. If you have a custom loadout enabled, say to hide your pistol MK2, you won't be able to use hidden weapons for the challenge, so be sure to unhide the ones you want to use. Alternately, if you want to use a different weapon, hide the one it selects... but I don't think you ever want to use a weapon other than the best one, which is what will be selected if all weapons are unhidden.
Remember that if you have an MOC with a Mk 2 workshop inside, it's only a short jog to make changes to your weapon and try different things.
HEAVY SNIPER RIFLE
This one is the most straightforward. Hit all headshots, make sure you have the extended magazine. Don't zoom in too much or it will slow down your aim.
PISTOL
Use the MkII with extended clip. I actually did it with the suppressor but I suspect it would be easier with the compensator.
If you start out aiming for low body shots on the low targets and headshots on the high targets, you can hit the targets twice each before they go away-- but only if you squeeze the trigger twice. If you hold it down, it won't shoot fast enough. I shot each target twice until I got the 3x bonus then swapped to single headshots. (Don't look at the bonus, you'll slow your aim, just note the point values of your shots or count.)
AUTOMATIC WEAPONS
The rest are automatic weapons. Personally I found the SMG, Assault Rifle, and Combat MG to be the easiest challenges (including pistol/sniper), and the Carbine rifle to be the hardest of all.
Be sure you have a muzzle brake for greater stability, an extended clip, and of course all the other things you probably already have on your Mk 2 weapons- grip, barrel, etc.
Don't try to "time" it. Use your ears instead. You'll get into a rhythm based on the sound-- PApaPApaPApaPA(1-2-3-4-5-6-7) instead of "shoot for 1/2 of a second" or "shoot until you see the target move."
You can get in at least 2 more headshots on the upper targets before they go away than you can on the lower targets, depending on which class in this category you're talking about. For example, with the carbine rifle, you can get 5 headshots on the bottom targets, but 7 on the upper targets, before they go away (because of the angle of the target as it moves away from you; if you were going for body shots, you could get an extra couple in on the bottom, but you shouldn't be going for body shots.)
Play with your scope, distance in 3rd person, and zoom (don't forget you can tap the R stick to scope in). You may find your optimal combination is different from mine. I did not think any of these were easier in first person scoped in-- too far zoomed, the flicks are too long. However, on some weapons I opted for a higher zoom level, while in others I put on a lower zoom scope but changed my 3rd person view to be closer to the character model.
For the carbine rifle, I completed the challenge while not scoped in. However, I got multiple 2975 and 2950 scores (out of 3000) while scoped, so you can do it either way, I'm sure.
Prioritize 100% headshots over speed once you have the maximum bonus! The thing that takes away most of your time is switching between targets and reloading, and the targets go away after X number of shots, so there's no reason to be an extra fraction of a second quicker shooting your target in the black. If you're not seeing a string of 45s, you're not going to complete the challenge.
Don't stop shooting because you missed a shot. I would suggest not getting in the habit of backint out and restarting just because of some early misses. Remember, not every miss resets your bonus-- you get a "grace" shot on some of the faster shooting weapons, so just keep aiming for the head.
MATH FOR AUTOMATIC WEAPONS
This is for the Carbine; I can do them for others if it would be helpful, but I figure one example gives you a pretty good idea of your goals.
-If you hit 72 headshots in a row without missing, you'll end up with 3015 points, enough to clear the mission.
-Suppose you lose your multiplier after your 30th shot after getting all headshots until then: You will then need to hit a total of 77 headshots (plus the two missed shots for 79 total) to clear 3000 points.
-If you miss after your 30th and 60th shot, you'll need 82 headshots (plus 4 missed shots for a total of 86)
-Suppose you never reset your multiplier, but 10 of your shots hit the outermost rim of the target (for 3 points instead of 15): now you'll need 75 total shots instead of 72 to clear the level.
You can use this to get an idea of how close you are to being on track, but I think it also drives home the point: accuracy is more important than speed. I can easily get 91-95 shots off with the carbine at 80% accuracy, but I might not even break 1200 points doing that. Most of my attempts fell around 79-82 shots and 95-97% accuracy when I was doing well and closing in on 3000.
TARGET SELECTION AND ACQUISITION
When you get to tier 3, targets will come and go fairly quickly. It's important that once you lock onto your current target, begin deciding on your next target and move your eyes there before you're done shooting your last target. It's also important to track the order of targets that popped up, at least in a general sense. If you're shooting at top targets and bottom targets start popping up, for example, it's essential to know which bottom target popped up first, and will therefore be the first to go away.
You don't have to shoot every target! And you don't have to unload the full amount of shots into every target! To be clear, you normally should be trying to unload a full clip into each target, but let's say you just finished shooting a bottom target, a top one popped up, and by the time you finished shooting the top one, you have 3 more bottom targets. By the time you acquire a bottom target again, there's a good chance you won't have much time to shoot whichever one came up first. It's okay to just ignore that one, and shoot the other two. By then, another target will probably be up anyway.
Any time you're reloading, be sure your crosshair is on the target you want to shoot next before the reload is finished. If you have plenty of targets to shoot at when you reload, you may want to move on to the next target in line if you can. If you take time to reload, then shoot your prior target for the last one or two shots, then immediately have to acquire a new target, that's a lot of wasted time for those one or two shots. And that wasted time can result in a juicy target going away before you can get to it. This is a judgement call of course-- if the next target is crappy anyway (eg front bottom to back top) or there are only one or two targets up, and/or you only shot the target once or twice before reloading, it might be better to finish the one you're on and hope a new, better target pops up by the time you're done.
THE MENTAL ASPECT
One thing to be aware of: RNG is going to come into play here. If you're an aim god, you don't need this guide anyway. If you're like me, even your best won't be good enough unless you get the perfect set of targets.
For example, given that you can hit 7 headshots with the carbine rifle on the upper targets, it's nice to get a lot of uppers in a row... except unlike the bottoms, the front upper targets block headshots to the back upper targets, requiring you to either fire a string of body shots to get the closer target out of the way, or re-aquire a headshot (sometimes only to be blocked once again by a 3rd target.) So getting a front-to-back line of upper targets is a huge boost. Getting two blocked headshots in a row by closer upper targets just means "gg go next." Likewise, the lower targets are closer together and faster to acquire, so getting a bunch of lower targets in a row is also great. Upper and lower alternating? You're kinda screwed.
Even with no change in your accuracy or target acquisition, the random aspects can make an easy 500 point difference and probably more, eg if a target gets blocked, then blocked again, then you finally go to shoot at your first target and it goes away so you shoot the wall instead.
When chasing the 3000 on carbine, I would guesstimate that I scored <1000 points on about 10% of my attempts, <2000 points on about 30-50%, and between 2000-2500 on like 30-40% (at least towards the end when I was really locked in). Getting between 2500 and 3000 was uncommon for me, probably <10% of the time; I did hit some 2975 and 2950s, and a handful of 26xxs, but most were lower.
Or to put it another way: if you're not an aim god, your results are going to fall on a bell curve, and the peak is going to be way below 3000. Don't look at it like "I have to keep closing in on 3000, and if most of my results are 2200-2400 and I'm not consistently climbing, I'll never win." Look at it this way: most of your results won't be good enough to win, and by the nature of reality, you won't be getting your top 5% results every time. What you're looking for is for your best performance (rare) to overlap with the best target RNG (rare). Keep at it, and one of those times, which will probably feel no different than any other time, you'll look at your score and gasp, and see that it hits the goal. I kept trying the carbine tier 3 challenge repeatedly from 11:30pm to 3am before I got it, with small breaks for otter pops and buying more supplies for my bunker.
PROBABLY BULLSHIT ADVICE BUT I'D LOVE FEEDBACK
I felt like the visibility of certain targets was different from different spots on the range. Sometimes the light casts a hard shadow on some targets in some areas but not others, making it harder to see the headshot. I didn't objectively test this, going back and forth and noting specific targets, so it may be in my head.
I played around with night vision (do NOT use thermal lol) and was undecided on whether it helped. It makes the circles no longer red, and they're a little subtleharder to see on the targets that are clear anyway, but it also makes it easier to see the targets in the back. The main reason I went with no vision aids is because the goggles kept glitching out anyway, where they'd suddenly deactivate, and I got tired of resetting them. The specific advantage of NVG was when I was on a certain position on the range, the metal apparatus and the head of the target itself kind of blended together in shadow, and the NVG made that difference crystal clear-- but again, at the cost of making it harder to see the specific red zones. On the other hand, the head is a cricle, and you're shooting the middle of the circle, so how important is the red color really? This is probably down to preference, but this is also where I thought moving to the far left position eliminated the problem of the shadows (if I'm not just accidentally full of shit.)
STUFF I NEED MORE INFO ON
Here are some things I'd love to know if anyone has the info or wants to figure it out:
-What are the rules on when missing shots resets your bonus? You can miss one for example with the carbine rifle... and if you miss the second, it resets. What if you miss one, and hit 3 shots, then miss another? 1/5?
-Why does the multiplier counter keep ticking up even after you hit 3x? Is this related to the missed shots? Once you hit 3x you're maxed out, but the next 4 shots still fill up bits of your multiplier bar. Don't know if this is just a graphic design decision or if it's functional in some way.
-Are the targets that flash truly random? Or are there a few set patterns? Even if no one is going to memorize the pattern, just knowing eg that there's going to be a string of low targets towards the end is helpful, or being able to say "THIS IS THE GOOD ONE!"
-I saw some advice on altering your field of view and your dead zone. I didn't play with this, but it does seem useful. Normally I like to see as much as possible so I can view threats, but for this specific challenge, it's unnecessary, so maybe tweaking it gives an advantage.
CONCLUSION
Thanks for helping! Feel free to also send your favorite links. I didn't watch a lot of video guides (maybe 4 or 5) because I prefer text guides, but it's possible I missed out on some good info as a result.
Good luck out there!

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Content Warning: Domestic Abuse
***
We pulled off I-51 a little after midnight, stopping at a truck stop which was couched between the highway and a large forest.
We waited in the van for ten minutes or so. Trent had increased the sonar radius to its maximum of 30 miles a little over an hour ago. Somehow the red pings had kept up with us, holding a steady distance of around 20 miles. Considering we were averaging around 80 mph, and a coyote's top speed is only around 40 mph, we figured they had been enhanced in some way. Either that, or they shape-shifted into something faster. Regardless, now that we had stopped, we waited to see if the demon spawn would try and close the distance. Luckily, or unluckily, they didn't. They kept their 20 mile buffer, but we noticed they were beginning to spread out along the circumference of that boundary.
"We're close. They know that, so they're trying to trap us in." Trent said.
"Trying to?—more like they have."
We considered whether we should stay in the van and keep watch, but we figured that would do us little good. At their speed, they could be on us in ten minutes, which means we would need to stay up all night and keep tabs on their positions. Trent offered to stay up, of course, but I shut him down.
"The demon doesn't want to kill us now. You said it yourself. Plus, we need our rest. If they come, they come."
Trent didn't like it, but he acquiesced.
The truck stop had all the essentials: a gas station and mini mart with showers and an attached McDonald's, a large parking lot for truckers to idle and sleep, and even a section with lodging for those who wanted a more comfortable night's rest. I told Trent that he should take advantage of the showers, and after a little convincing, he agreed. While he was cleaning himself up, I patrolled the dingy, half-stocked aisles of "Daisy's Quick Mart". I probably would have been appalled at the quality of the store had I actually been paying any attention to it whatsoever. But I wasn't. I was thinking hard about what awaited me tomorrow.
During the drive, I had asked Trent why the demon would want us to return to the crash site. What did he mean that I would be 'confronting a dark entity in a place he couldn't help me'? He seemed hesitant to answer, but my little stunt outside the storage facility seemed to have sufficiently motivated him.
"When I said I've never done this before, I meant it." Trent started. "I've never done this exact thing before—meaning I've never projected someone into the past."
"So, I'm time traveling?" I asked.
"No—don't think of it like that." Trent paused, trying to come up with a good explanation. "It's more like I'm opening a window for you to look through: not a door. You're going to see the past, but you can't interact with the physicalities there. But that doesn't mean you can't interact with anything."
There was a space of silence as Trent tried to let me work out his meaning for myself. "I don't get it. Are you saying there's something I can interact with? Like what?" And then it hit me. "The demon. The demon can interact with me? Meaning what? It can kill me?"
"Meaning… I'm not exactly sure. You're going to be in a kind of psychic space. If it does damage, it won't be to your body. It'll be to your mind—or spirit. But I don't know what the limits of that damage could be. I just don't have those answers."
"If you've never done this, how do you know any of it will work?"
"That's an easy one." Trent answered. "Because it's been done to me."
There was silence.
"Look, if I know anything, I know my tech. Don't doubt that this will work. It's my job to make sure it does. I just need you to be in the right mental for this. Just because it knows your coming doesn't mean it automatically has the upper hand. It won't be able to see you unless you make contact with it first. In other words, you have to initiate contact. As long as you remain a spectator, you should be okay. Trust me. Just don't make contact."
I started pacing faster—fast enough to catch the attention of the overnight shift worker, a young man whose name I can't quite remember. I know it started with a "J". Jake, maybe? Anyway, he asked if I was alright, to which I responded in the affirmative. He left me alone for another couple passes, but when I almost ran into one of the shelves, he stood up and said, "Uh—I'm going to have to ask you to stop running around. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
I must have stared daggers at him, because he recoiled from my gaze. What's gotten into me? I thought. Then, steadying myself, I apologized. I looked around and grabbed the nearest edible looking piece of merchandise: a bag of Swedish Fish, and placed it down on the counter. "Just this, please."
The cashier rang me up. It was surprisingly cheap.
"Are you sure you're alright?" the young man asked. He was tall with brown hair. He seemed tired—maybe even more tired than me. But he also seemed kind.
I smiled as best I could and said, "No, I'm not. But there's not really anything you can do. Hell, there might not be anything I can do." I furrowed my eyebrows at my own response, realizing that imminent death may have broken my verbal filter.
On the other hand, the cashier did not seem surprised at all. "Ah, I see. It's one of those problems." He responded. "Well, hey, for what it's worth, you seem like one of the resilient ones. I think you'll be alright."
I only smiled and nodded at his mildly cryptic comment. Looking back, the whole interaction was a bit strange, but I had way too much mental clutter to recognize that in the moment. I took my Swedish Fish and walked through the anteroom which led to McDonald's. I found an open yellow booth that wasn't littered with crumpled straw sleeves and sat down, chomping mindlessly on my little red fish until Trent returned. When he arrived, he took my place, and I went to shower. After we were both clean and fed, we returned to the van. The pings were still pushed safely out of harm's way. But that didn't mean we were out of harm's way. Trent asked me if I wanted to sleep in the van, saying that "it'd be the safest place."
I thought it over. He was right, obviously. The van was not only outfitted with weapons I couldn't even begin to understand, but it was also our escape, and it would be just as difficult, if not more difficult to break into than the studio-style motel rooms with their wood doors and big windows. Still, if this was going to be my last night on earth, I wanted to sleep in a bed. A real bed. Trent understood and said he'd stay parked right outside my room for the night.
After purchasing a key from the night attendant, I moseyed over to the cement walkways which connected the twenty or so rooms. Mine was room #56, which I thought was odd since, like I said, there were only 20 rooms. I lugged in my tomato plushie and dad's old book and placed them on the queen mattress.
"I'll be right outside." Trent said after I collapsed onto the bed.
"Trent," I called out, stopping him half-way through the door.
"Yeah?"
All the blood in my body rushed up to my face as I realized my unfiltered mouth almost reflexively said the word "stay". I stared at Trent, my heart beating, my face hot. I considered asking him to sleep on the floor like my dad, but that would be childish and impolite. The alternative was to share my bed… Or I could take the floor.
"I'll just be right outside." Trent said before my mind processed a solution. "Come by if you need anything. I'll be up most of the night anyway."
"Okay," I replied in a faint voice.
Trent shut the door.
I sat atop the bedsheets and acquainted myself with my new living space. A feeling of regret closed over me as I considered that even sleeping on a carseat would have been better if it meant I didn't have to be alone. With a sigh, I turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed the book and stuffed tomato, using the tomato as a backrest as I slipped my legs under the covers and situated the book upright on my thighs. I cracked it open and was immediately blasted with a puff of dusty, old book scent. It was ripe at first, and I turned my head away to sneeze, but as I perused through the pages, the scent grew on me. It reminded me of the days growing up when I'd step into dad's study and read through one of the many volumes on cryptic topics which were at least two college degrees above my Lexile range.
I was only a couple minutes into browsing the collection of different scientific and philosophical works when I came across a page which contained highlighted text. This was unusual, as my dad would never mark up his books. He was a purist on that point. I rubbed my thumb over the yellow lines, and sure enough, it was highlighter.
The highlighted text was part of a small book by Carl Jung called "Synchronicity". There were a total of three pages that were marked, and they advanced like this:
Page 5:
The philosophical principle that underlies our conception of natural law is causality*. But if the connection between cause and effect turns out to be only statistically valid and relatively true, then the causal principle is only of relative use for explaining natural processes… That is as much to say that the connection of events may in certain circumstances be other than causal, and require another principle of explanation.*
Page 19:
…there are events which are related to one another experimentally, and in this case meaningfully*, without there being any possibility of proving that this relation is a causal one, since the "transmission" exhibits none of the known properties of energy…a situation which does not yet exist and will only occur in the future could transmit itself as a phenomenon of energy to a receiver in the present…Therefore, it cannot be a question of cause and effect, but of a falling together in time, a kind of simultaneity... "synchronicity"*
Page 22:
A young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window pane from outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab that one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer… which contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt an urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment.
I flipped through the rest of the pages of the book. There was no more highlighted text, but there was a message on the last page which read:
Matthew 7:7-8
I'll meet you in the darkest place.
He also included his typical smiley face which had an ovular shape and three sprouts of hair which I now realized kind of resembled my tomato plushie. It was my dad's writing, of course. But why? And how? What did this mean?
The motel had a Bible stashed away in the nighstand drawer. I got it out and looked up the verses which read the following:
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
I spent maybe an hour ruminating on all of this. The whole discourse on energy and causality and a "falling together in time" just seemed so right. It was clear that my dad definitely did know what I was going through, but for whatever reason, he made it seem like he was oblivious. Why had he hidden that from me? I felt like I was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, my dad loved me enough to leave this note, maybe even knowing the exact moment I'd need it. But on the other hand, he had neglected my struggles throughout my entire childhood. He even lied at times. Was this really enough to make up for all of that?
And then there was the section about the future transmitting energy to the past. I read back through the whole paragraph and the original writer had meant it to say this as something that wasn't possible, but my dad's highlighting made it seem like he wanted to flip the meaning. The future does affect the past. I thought about where I was headed and wondered if I would soon discover that for myself.
Lastly, dad's message. The Bible verse reminded me of the first time I prayed; how I reached out to God and received peace as an answer to my prayer. Now I feel like I'm actively seeking… something, but I don't know yet what I'll find. And then there's knocking. At first that reminded me of the story with the beetle tapping on the window, but then I went back even deeper in my memory and dug out the monster tapping at my window, and the words my dad spoke to me in order to set my mind at ease: "you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is? Your greatest power is you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them…so if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story."
I was crying into my stuffed tomato now. I felt like all the blinking pieces of my life had finally been pulled together into a completed puzzle. This was all by design. My entire life, filled with so much chaos and confusion, was actually preparing me for this moment. And my dad thought I had the tools and strength enough to get through it. I flipped through the book one more time, thinking maybe he had left some other hidden comment—some formula to defeat this demon and return home. But there was nothing. Only that one comment: "I'll meet you in the darkest place."
What's the darkest place, dad? Is that where I'm going? Are you saying you'll be there, too?
With those thoughts in mind, my eyes became heavy shutters which, with a slight pressure on the pulley, winded shut. My swimming thoughts and firework-like fears dissipated, and I returned to a precious childhood memory. It was after an evening soccer practice. Summer. Dad was driving me to Dairy Queen. I got a cherry-dipped twist cone. I was happy.
So, so happy.
***
I woke up to sunlight blaring through my windows. Shit, I overslept, was my immediate thought. I threw off my covers and opened the front door. A glance at the clock showed 1:13 PM. I shouldn't have even been allowed to stay checked in this long. Damn, am I gonna get double-billed for this?
I heard a rummaging sound around the corner of my motel room. It sounded like a squirrel was trying to find an afternoon snack in one of the garbage bins. I stepped outside. The sun was extremely bright, to the point where I had to squint and put my hand over my eyes to even see the ground in front of me. I was trying to walk toward the van, but somehow I ended up in front of the trash bins where the animal's tail was sticking out from a turned-over, silver garbage can. Its tail was wagging excitedly, and I remember thinking that it was much too large to be a squirrel.
The animal bent down as if biting onto something, and I heard the sound of its growl as it struggled to tug whatever it was free from the barrel. Inch by inch, the creature backed out of the canister, and more of its sharp, sticky hair was revealed. I heard something snap, then the creature leapt back and I saw what it was chomping on. My eyes widened in horror as the pink tube of a human intestine was pulled taut like the end of a tangled hose. Blood and entrails were spilling out of the human's opened gut. And then, behind the canine, I saw the person's face. His face was pale white, his eyes closed, and his hair was slicked back… It was Trent.
Before I could react, I heard footsteps approaching from behind. I whirled around and saw my dad. But—no, it wasn't him. It was someone wearing a paper-mache face mask that was painted to look like my dad. The forehead of the mask was already beginning to crack, white specks breaking off like sawdust. Through the cracks, I could see the figure's true form. I didn't know darkness had its own type of light, but that's the only way to describe it. It was as if malevolence itself was reified into a skin which was actually an amalgamation of millions of little, oozing parasites that leached into the nearby light. When it finally spoke, the demon's voice was a full octave lower than the old man's at the deli. And it had an earth-stilling gravitas.
"Today's the day!" He sang and reached into his pocket. His lips curled upward into a foxy smirk. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day." He said and held up a razor blade. Half his facade had already fallen apart, and now I could see the bugs up close, writhing in what was either horror or ecstasy. And his scent… it was somehow more rank than the rabid coyote rummaging through the trash can with Trent's cut open body inside. The demon closed in on my position, and in one, decisive motion, he brought the blade close to his chin, then sliced it across my throat. "Wake up!" He screamed.
I jumped out of my bed and grabbed my throat, feeling the cold sting of its quick slice. Hyperventilating, I patted the area down, trying to hold the blood in, but when I removed my hands, I saw they were dry. It was only a dream, I thought. Gray light was only beginning to filter in through the drapes. I'm in my hotel room. I'm safe. I tried consoling, but the pragmatic mental massages weren't enough to hold the force of my knees buckling. I dropped onto the carpet and cried for a long while.
Outside, rain was beginning to fall.
***
By the time I met up with Trent, I had already composed myself and decided to keep my dad's message and the nightmare to myself. None of it seemed particularly productive from a logistical standpoint, anyway. And I wanted to focus on the mission.
We stopped by McDonald's and bought a couple cups of coffee. Trent asked if I wanted any food, and I declined. Black coffee seemed like the only thing my stomach could take at the present moment. I could tell Trent was hungry, but he tried playing it off (I guess to be respectful of me?) I told him to knock it off and get something to eat. I didn't need my Charon getting lightheaded and dropping the paddle before he finished rowing me to Hell. He didn't care much for my joke, but he ordered a couple Chicken McGriddles at the kiosk anyway.
There were maybe ten patrons spread throughout the restaurant. We sat down at the same booth from the prior night, this time across from one another. Trent spent the first ten minutes or so babbling about our fuel supply and the logistics of the trip from here on in. Practical stuff. I've come to realize that's how he deals with his stress. He talks it out in short, durable sentences. I mostly nodded and watched as what looked like a storm front closed in on the truck stop. The sky was overcast, and there were darker clouds in the distance. The rain was still only a patter, but a middle-aged man wearing a yellow bow tie on the wall-mounted TV confirmed that there would be heavier rain and thunderstorms very soon.
After the worker delivered Trent's food and he ate it in record time, I posed the one question that was still on my mind.
"How do I fight him?" I asked.
Trent finished a large gulp of his coffee, then looked at me. It was the first substantial thing I'd said all morning; Trent could tell something was off with me, but he figured there was no point in asking what it was. "By 'him', I assume you mean the demon?"
I nodded.
Trent licked his teeth clean. "You could try praying again."
"I'm serious," I responded.
"I'm serious, too. It worked before, didn't it?"
"You mean at my house?"
Trent nodded.
"I thought you weren't a religious man?"
"I'm not. Just a practical one. If praying worked before, maybe it'll work again."
"That's the best you've got? A maybe?"
"No, I've got a lot of shit better than a maybe." He answered. "It's just not accessible where you're going. Which is why I recommend not making contact on the first run."
"First run? So we're going to do this more than once?"
"At least," Trent answered. Then, seeing my expression, he continued. "What? You thought this was going to be a one-and-done? We have to conduct some research first. I did tell you this was new for me, right?"
Somehow Trent's response had set my mind at ease a little. I was going to have more than one chance. Of course, why wouldn't I be able to go back more than once?
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier? It would have gone a long way in easing my mind."
Trent lifted his hands in defense. "Sorry, I just thought that was a given. I mean, what we're doing is dangerous, just like I said, but it doesn't mean we aren't going to approach this as safely and scientifically as possible. However, there is a different problem with running multiple trials."
"The Organization?"
"That's right," Trent said like a proud parent. "Our little experiment will be like a giant spotlight, and the longer we wait around after it's on us, the greater the chance we'll have unwelcome company."
"So, safe but speedy."
"Safe but speedy. Exactly."
***
We fueled up and were back on the road a little after 8:00. From that point on, Trent and I were absolutely silent. I had the distinct feeling of being in the eye of a storm. The pings moved closer commensurate with our progress toward the crash site. The cloudfront continued its advance. And I noticed a haze beginning to descend onto the road ahead of us. It was fog.
We meandered further inland, the forest thickening around us until the rain almost stopped entirely—the leaves drinking it up before it fell onto our windshield. I kept my eyes on the radar. We were approaching the large yellow circle which indicated we had arrived. As we pulled closer, I began to feel things. Fear. Eeriness. Doubt. Then happiness. Hope. Love. Normally feelings like these had a clear source to picture, but these sensations came on in waves without any discernible reason. It was almost as if they were blinking into existence inside me.
"Here we go," Trent said like an airline pilot readying his crew for turbulence.
I still recall the exact moment we crossed the boundary into the area of higher energy. It was like something just "clicked" in my brain, and all of a sudden everything felt so much closer. The sound of the rain against the trees was almost right next to my ear. The trees in the distance would oscillate between their position a half-mile out, then suddenly seem five meters away. If I focused on something long enough, it began to radiate those same ethereal particles as when Trent released Ava's "phase lock". I checked to make sure the shifter wasn't set to "TD". Sure enough, it was still in drive.
"Can you see them?" Trent asked. "The shifts?"
"Yeah," I said in a dreamy voice. I felt like I was driving through a wonderland.
"It's the energy. I barely notice a difference. A bit of movement in the trees, but not much else. But I'm sure for you, it's a whole experience."
"What is this?" I raised my hand and caught some of the pixel dust dripping off the sun visor. It disappeared when it made contact with my hand.
"It's a kind of radiation. Everything emits it, just in different quantities. I'm still not exactly sure how it relates to the other realms, but I'm guessing it's a kind of primordial matter that helps connect our worlds."
"It's beautiful," I exclaimed. "I wish I could see the world like this all the time."
"Maybe you will," Trent whispered.
As we arrived at the crash site, I began to get glimpses of the past. My childhood dreams and memories were pushing their way out from my subconscious. I noticed an increased number of blinks, which were validated by Ava who reported the following: "Currently detecting 14,350 novel emergences and 2,777 controlled agents. Net anomalies: 2,777."
"That's a lot of blinks." I remarked. "Why doesn't Ava include them in the net anomalies?"
Trent turned his head so I could see his smirk. "Because blinks aren't anomalies."
I thought about it for a second. Blinks aren't anomalies. "I never thought about it that way."
"It's hard to think about it that way when 'normal' for most people means not picking up on a fundamental aspect of reality. But that doesn't make it any less real."
We continued past the epicenter of the yellow circle. "Are we not stopping?" I asked. "I think we already passed the crash site."
"It doesn't have to be exactly at the site," Trent said. "Plus, we don't want to stop on the side of the road and risk getting some civilian involved. There's a field about half a mile up ahead. I'm going to pull off the road and set up camp there.
The "field" that Trent was referring to was actually a large clearing that dipped down into several trench-like troughs which were filled to the brim with fog like witches cauldrons. Further on in the distance, I saw open fields, probably used for farming, and then a large hill where the trees once again reasserted themselves. We had pulled off the road and up a small incline where the trees had already been broken down, leaving a trail for us to drive through. When we surfaced at the edge of the clearing, Trent pulled us onto a flat bed of dried mud which was maybe thirty yards long.
"Here," he said with a sigh.
We both sat for a minute, looking around at the field. We had finally arrived. The rain was beginning to pick up, and the dark sky made it almost impossible to discern the time of day.
"You ready?" Trent asked.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. In his blue eyes. Was I ready? Did it even matter?
"Let's do this," I said.
***
This was the first time I was really able to inspect the back of Trent's van. He had talked up his gear a lot, and honestly, I was impressed. Not in the way that a scientist is impressed by another scientist's lab—I wasn't any kind of expert—but it still seemed remarkably well managed. Now that I was in a state where my vision had been enhanced, I could actually see the enigmatic particles circulating through the pneumatic tubes which were coiled like the pipes and valves of an elaborate wind instrument. The walls of the van, itself, were glistening white, making it easier to make out everything else inside. Along the floor were five overturned columns. Each column was dark and had a vibrating quality, as if they were charged with energy. Then atop the center three columns was a small altar which supported an apparatus with two skinny, metal arms holding a silver halo. At present, the arms were folded and the halo was suspended a few inches above the altar, faced-down. I thought maybe I'd see particles exuding from it, but instead it was emitting visible waves which bent and warped everything they touched.
"That thing is emitting a lot of energy." I remarked, gesturing toward the halo.
Trent stepped in between the columns and started pulling out the packages he had stuffed in there yesterday. "Just wait till' it's on."
Most of the packages contained only a single piece of equipment, and were otherwise packed with foam peanuts. We carefully removed each box and set them on the ground outside. I asked if the rain would damage any of the stuff inside, to which Trent only laughed and continued lugging out the boxes. When they were all out, Trent removed a box cutter from his pocket and went one-by-one opening them. There were eight pieces in total.
"What is it?" I asked as we fished the first item out.
"It's another apparatus, like the one inside. Except it'll mount on the ground out here."
I pulled out what looked like a metal tripod.
"Good, that'll go on the bottom."
"Where are we setting it up?"
"Over here," Trent said and stepped five paces away from the van. He coordinated himself up so he was centrally aligned with the inner ring, then stomped a few times. "This is the spot."
As we continued to work, I asked Trent about how the whole contraption works.
"Do you remember the first time we were in the van? When we had to escape from the semi-truck?" Trent asked and connected a secondary mounting apparatus on top of the tripod. It had four spider-like legs that made right angles and stuck into the ground.
"Of course," I said. "The 'phase lock'."
"Yeah," Trent said and gestured toward the metal stick that was in my hand. I handed it to him. "The phase lock is a seal on the level of energy that the van is allowed to release. It also controls its dispersion pattern so that it releases its energy in a steady wave. This allows Ava to scan for anomalies without causing us to become an anomaly." Trent stuck the plank into the neck of the tripod.
"So when you released the phase lock, we started emitting more energy."
"That's right." Trent confirmed. "Enough to create an alternate route through a different realm."
"So we blinked into a different realm, then back, just to avoid that truck?"
"That's right."
"But why couldn't we just move out of the way?"
"Because it had locked onto us. It was tracking our motion and adjusting its course based on the amount of energy we were emitting. So in order to escape, we had to radically skew our potential energy and then use it to shift."
"Couldn't he have just followed us?"
Trent connected four more pieces to the device which now looked like an elaborate teepee. He was fishing in the last box when he spoke again. "Yeah, he could have. But it was highly improbable that he would have found us." Trent returned from the bottom of the box with another silver ring in hand. "Think of it like this. Let's say you're trying to escape from some bad guy who's coming after you, and you enter a new room you've never seen before. Would you prefer this room to have three doors to go through, or ten?"
I thought about his riddle for a second, then responded, "It depends where they go."
Trent fastened the ring atop the teepee. "Let's say they all lead to random places, or let's say they're all closets that lead nowhere. The key is that more is better, because the more doors he has to check, the less likely he is to pick the correct one. Make sense?"
"So we opened up a bunch of doors and escaped through one at random?"
"Hence the gear 'TD', for 'Trap Door'."
I marveled at the insights, but not for long. Trent hopped back in the van and pulled a lever that I hadn't seen until now. The two metal arms raised the inner ring until it was perpendicular with the altar. Then Trent clicked one of three red buttons along the back wall, and I saw what looked like a large, glass eye suspended in a magnifying glass protruding from the wall, aligned with the center of both rings. A couple seconds later, the glass eye began to focus the energy which was being fed to it from the pneumatic tubes, and a blue pyramid of light projected from it into the first ring, then from the first ring into the second ring. All three pieces were aligned at slightly diminishing heights, so the cylinder of light beamed through the second ring, into the ground.
"Alright, time for the first trial."
I felt the nerves starting up in my stomach. Trent sensed this and hopped out of the truck. It was raining quite hard now, though it was still warm. Both Trent and I were soaked, but that hardly concerned us. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "I know you're feeling scared." He said. "But trust me on this. You're going to do fine. Just keep in mind what we talked about. Stay a spectator. Okay?"
I looked into his blue eyes, which seemed especially gray in the dark. Still, Trent's voice was reassuring. All I had to do was trust him. Trust myself. Trust my dad. And it was all going to turn out right.
"I'm ready," I said.
Trent was still for a second, holding my eyes in his. Then he guided me behind the outer ring and into the cylinder of light.
"I should step into it now?" I asked, afraid I'd be called away immediately.
"It's not on yet, so don't worry. I still have to press another button."
I followed Trent's instructions and stood in the blue light which was centered on my chest. Then I watched as Trent ran into the back of the van and posted up next to the glass eye. "Ready?" He yelled out. It was hard to hear him over the rain, but I yelled back. "Ready!"
The next thing I saw was a blinding blue light beam from the van. I heard what sounded like a laser, then saw the cylinder oscillate, expanding and compressing. When the energy reached the second ring, I saw everything around me light up—it looked brighter than noon on a cloudless day. Then the oscillations made their way to me, and I was swallowed up whole.
***
When I came to, I was in the backseat of a car. I felt my butt rumbling. Everything was dim and quiet. And then I heard a woman's voice from in front of me.
"Mark, please, not with Lauren in the back."
The man, who I now identified as my father, pulled the cigarette away from his lips and blew the smoke at my mom. He eyed the back seat where I was sitting, using one of five markers that hadn't rolled off my lap to color a rabbit in my animal color book.
"The kid's fine." he said and took another drag.
"Mark," my mom repeated.
I saw my dad raise his hand in a rapid motion. "I said she's fine, Cheryl. Now check the map and make sure we're going the right away. I can't see shit with all this fog."
I took a moment to make sure I was really in the back seat. I patted myself. I clearly had weight. Then I tried touching the car. At first, my fingertips met a solid surface, but when I tried to press through, my hand slipped into the car. I quickly pulled my hand away as if I had reached into a fire.
That's when I heard the little three year old next to me start crying. I turned and saw that little-me had dropped another couple markers onto the ground and was struggling to reach them.
"Hey!" my dad shouted. "What did I say about crying?"
"Quit it, Mark. She just dropped her markers." said my mom; she turned to help me pick them up.
"What did you say to me?" Mark spat with a voice full of guile. He reached out and pushed her back into her seat. "Don't," he commanded. "She has to learn how to deal with life."
"Deal…" My mom started in disbelief. "Deal with life? Do you hear yourself? What's gotten into you?"
"Sometimes shit happens. It doesn't give her the right to cry. You helping her is just going to reinforce her behavior."
"Her behavior? What about your behavior? You're acting like a total dick."
I didn't even have a moment to react before my dad's hand was across my mom's face. I felt the slap more than I heard it, my own face seeming to swell with the force of the blow. I saw my mom cover her mouth and lean away. Then little-me began to cry even louder, which only challenged my dad to step up his own volume.
"Everyone needs to get a fucking grip before I crash this car." My dad shouted and took another drag. The scariest part was I couldn't tell if he was warning us or threatening us. I felt the sudden urge to do something. There was no way this was real. I was definitely in some fantasy concocted by the demon. He wanted to turn me against my dad. That was the only explanation for something like this. My dad was a good man, not… this.
As I contemplated what to do, I saw a small, golden light appear behind little-me's window. Apparently she saw it, too, because her cries hushed as she traced the wisp with her eyes. After a second, the wisp transformed into a bunny rabbit, reminiscent of the one she was coloring. The rabbit hopped alongside the window, then did a couple circles in place. I watched little me let out a playful laugh and reach toward the window.
"What's going on back there?" my dad asked with a scowl. Apparently the only sound more disturbing than cries were laughs.
I looked back to the front and saw my mom wiping blood from her lip. Her expression was miserable. "Leave her alone, Mark."
"I'll do whatever I damn well want to do, Cheryl. It's my kid back there."
My mom was quiet.
When I looked back toward the rabbit, it was no longer a rabbit but a person. Or at least it looked like a person. The figure radiated pure gold, and atop his head was what appeared to be a King's crown. I recalled Allison's experience of seeing the sun-like figure in her moment of distress. Was that what was happening here? Was this really all true?
"Hey!" My dad shouted, eyeing little-me from the rear-view mirror. "What are you reaching at?"
I looked and saw the golden figure extending his hand toward the window, and little me's hand was reaching back. "Mom, dad, it bright." little-me said.
"What's bright, honey?" my mom asked.
"Don't encourage her, Cheryl."
"Someone there!" little me shouted happily and dropped the rest of the markers and the coloring book onto the ground.
"Who's there?" asked my mom.
"Cheryl, I swear to God. Sit the fuck down."
Everything from that moment on happened so quickly I barely had any time to process it. My mom lifted out of her seat to either get little me's attention or help me pick up my coloring book. My dad responded by grabbing onto her throat, letting go of the steering wheel entirely. He threw her back against the car door, and her head hit the window so hard, the glass cracked. My dad had dropped his cigarette, and I could smell smoke coming from under his seat, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. He turned toward little-me at the same moment my three-year-old hand reached out and grabbed onto the golden figure, whose hand diffused through the window. When my dad turned, I got a whiff of the most awful smell that I wouldn't have been able to place had I not had that nightmare last night. He grabbed onto little-me's shoulder and tugged her away from the golden figure that was trying to pull her the other way. My dad's facade began to crack, and I could see those dark bugs crawling out from the pores in his arms, marching down toward little-me.
I reacted.
I grabbed onto my dad's arm and pulled him off little-me. I heard the sound of my shirt ripping as she was torn from his grip and pulled out of the car, diffusing through it like a ghost. My brief victory was immediately overturned as I saw what was now clearly the demon smiling at me, his wretched fingers curled around my forearm.
"Caught you," He sneered.
Then the whole world once again diffused into countless numbers of particles, only this time, instead of riding through it, I felt like I was falling through an elevator shaft with each floor darker than the last. The further I fell, the less I became aware of my surroundings, and the more I felt a deep sense of loneliness. It was as if I was the only person in the whole world: and the whole world was a prison designed entirely for me. This went on for so long, I began to forget who I was. Where I was. What was.
And then I landed.
***
Source Used:
Jung, Carl. Synchronicity. Translated by Sonu Shamdasani, Princeton University Press, 2010.

Dr. Seuss, revolutionized children's literature with his inventive use of language, rhyme schemes, and rhythmic patterns. His ability to craft engaging stories with a cadence that mirrors the beats and flows found in rap music sets a precedent for the genre. Dr. Seuss's books, characterized by their anapestic tetrameter—a rhythmic scheme that uses two short syllables followed by a longer, stressed syllable—are not far removed from the beats that underpin rap music. This rhythm is evident in books like "The Cat in the Hat" and "Green Eggs and Ham," where the flow of words carries a musical quality that can easily be adapted to a rap beat.
Moreover, Dr. Seuss's mastery of wordplay, a core element of rap, showcases his ability to manipulate language in ways that are both humorous and thought-provoking. He often employed invented words and whimsical phrases that not only entertained but also expanded the boundaries of conventional language. This inventiveness is a trait highly valued in rap, where artists like Eminem and Outkast have built careers on their ability to play with words and meanings. The playful yet incisive use of language in Seuss's work mirrors the lyrical dexterity of accomplished rappers, suggesting a foundational influence on the genre's emphasis on linguistic creativity.
Culturally, Dr. Seuss's works have left an indelible mark on multiple generations, much like hip-hop has over the past few decades. His books are more than simple stories; they often carry deeper messages about society, human behavior, and morality. For instance, "The Lorax" speaks to environmental conservation, while "The Sneetches" tackles issues of prejudice and equality. These themes resonate within the rap community, where artists frequently address social justice, inequality, and personal struggle through their music. The ability of Dr. Seuss to weave profound messages into engaging narratives parallels how rappers use their platforms to highlight and challenge societal issues.
Dr. Seuss's influence on rap can also be seen in the direct homage paid by artists who grew up reading his books. Rapper Logic, for example, has cited Dr. Seuss as an inspiration, noting how his rhythmic and playful approach to storytelling influenced his own writing style. The rhythmic quality and creative wordplay that define Seuss's books are evident in the complex, multi-syllabic rhymes and storytelling found in much of rap music today.
So I think it‘s fair to consider Dr. Seuss the Goat considering the stylistic and thematic parallels between his work and the principles of hip-hop culture. Dr. Seuss's innovative use of rhythm, rhyme, and language prefigures the techniques employed by many rap artists, and his cultural impact parallels the transformative power of hip-hop. By examining these connections, one can argue that Dr. Seuss's legacy subtly underpins the linguistic and rhythmic foundations of rap, positioning him as a great pioneer in the art of rhyming and storytelling.

Hey all, I wanted to hop on the Save Rec Room train as we've all put up with the state of this game for too long; coming from someone who has had the game since 2019, bought a quest and later built a PC for RR. I used to absolutely love this game, and I largely believe that the company going public has caused all of these issues, as the shareholders are now at the reigns
Anti-Consumer Practices -Prices of items, the TMNT shirts are like 30k tokens. That's nearly $50 for a single shirt in a 3 piece set. There are also FOUR recolors of that set, so all together the turtle outfits alone are 540 fucking dollars. At that point, you can cosplay them IRL for a fraction of the price. RRO items aren't safe either. -Limited time items - FOMO capitalization: I largely didn't play Rec room for the majority of 2023. When I (regrettably) decided to come back for real in 2024, I saw lots of cool items being worn by other players. "Ooh, what's that? I'll get one if I have enough tokens!" I thought to myself; going to check their outfit I'm almost always met with that awesome hat no longer being for sale. Seems like everything actually worth buying is only around for a limited time. -Selling Skins: For a good while now they've been selling previous weekly skins for tokens. At first I thought this was pretty shitty. While I think It's a good thing that newer players are able to access older items, we really should not be charging tokens for what was once free. -Rec Room+: RR+ is a pretty good deal. Weekly token drops, free items, and earnings on your creations. You definitely get your money's worth, and if you're a creator, you can even make money from it. The issue is that recroom HALVED the free token boxes for non RR+ players, and even teases you every time you get a free box with how much you could be getting if you have RR+. Fuck that. Bring back the original token earnings. I don't care if RR+ players get extra, but punishing free-to-play players is unacceptable.
Anti-Player Practices - Tone deafness -Removal of weekly challenges: Rec Room's claim that almost nobody completed weeklies is pure bullshit. Of course the rate of people completing them is so low when the retention rate is so low, most people install the game because it's free, mess around with it, and don't touch it again. For some reason, these players are the ones that RR wants to cater to instead of millions of dedicated fans (though I'm sure that number has lost a few decimal places in recent years.) -Full body avatars: Plain and simple, nobody fucking wants 'em. So far, I've only seen trolls or meme avatars using full body. The characters are absolutely hideous, and their human-like features like hands, nose, and eyes trigger uncanny. Especially for me, who has spent half a decade with bean bodies. The whole system seems to me like a sad excuse to pump out more overpriced items, since now they can sell pants and shoes, and probably socks and nose rings later on (I'm joking, don't get any fucking ideas, RR.) Not only that, but they've spent ~2 1/2 years (about the same amount of time they've been a publicly-owned company🤔) developing full body, and each time they showed it off it was met with rampant hate. People hated FB from the start, but recroom just shoved it down our throats. -New UI: An older issue but one that I personally feel started RR's trend of ignoring their players. I've always hated it. It feels clunky compared to the old UI. It's much harder to use, performs worse, is less intuitive, and less immersive. The awesome hologram watch was really what sucked me into the game at first, admittedly. I still consider it my favorite UI in any VR game, ever. The old UI was fast, snappy, immersive, interactive, and overall felt great to use with those squishy buttons and satisfying sound effects. The new UI was made without a single thought about VR users. It makes no use of the spatial presence it has in VR, and is super cumbersome to use in VR. It is impossible to use it with your hands alone. While you can still click the buttons with your fingers, the beloved 3D buttons were robbed from us for the sake of mobile players. The menus now scroll instead of using pages, which is alright, I guess; my issue with it is that you need to use your joystick to scroll the menu instead of touching it. Why would they shaft VR functionality? Rec Room said it was so that the devs can modify the menu more easily and so that it would perform better. While the first part is true and IS a GOOD REASON to overhaul the UI, the latter is a complete and utter lie. The new UI still tanks FPS every time it's pulled up. My custom PC rig drops below 60fps when using the menu in VR. Again, I and many others loved the style and functionality of the old UI. When Rec Room started to implement the new UI it was of course met with backlash. Rec Room, of course, ignored this and just kept pushing forward with their much-hated feature, turning a blind eye to criticism and suggestions on how to make the UI better, like bringing back 3D buttons and touch functionality.
That pretty much sums up my personal gripes with the state of RR. Others have issues with moderation, community events, etc. but I chose to focus on what hits me the hardest. Rec Room was once a great place to play, create, hang out, and make friends, but anti-consumerism and tone deafness have reduced it to a shell of what it once was. #SaveRR

In need of magic
Out of fish
Have new farm for two clicks
Still have puppy, money tree, free gifts on shein
Still have lucky, hat trick, one p5, coffee and temu tree
Code: 1c3emkxg

In need of magic
Out of fish
Have new farm for two clicks
Still have puppy, money tree, free gifts on shein
Still have lucky, hat trick, one p5, coffee and temu tree
Code: 1c3emkxg

In need of magic
Out of fish
Have new farm for two clicks
Still have puppy, money tree, free gifts on shein
Still have lucky, hat trick, one p5, coffee and temu tree
Code: 1c3emkxg

Greetings, YelanMains! I come to you today with a different type of Yelan build. Instead of a build for her in-game, I'm gonna be showcasing how to build and play Yelan in Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition. This is something I've been doing for Genshin characters recently, and I wanna share it with you all.
Let’s start off with our goals for this build. First, we need to be a master at manipulation, intel gathering, and espionage. Secondly, we need to wield a bow, as that’s your weapon of choice. Lastly, we need to utilize magical abilities to support your allies, as while we won’t be able to replicate her abilities exactly, we’ll still keep that support role for her.
(Please note that I stopped playing Genshin when Yelan came out, so I know next to nothing about her lore or character other than she's like a spy for Ningguang or something like that)
For stats, we’ll be using the Standard Point array from the Player’s Handbook. Roll for stats if you want, just keep your Dexterity and Charisma high for multiclassing.
15 Charisma, as you are a master of manipulation and deception.
14 Dexterity, as you are nimble, and it’s the stat for bows.
13 Intelligence, as being a secret agent requires a sharp mind.
12 Wisdom, as you are very insightful and good at reading people
10 Constitution, as while I hate to have it low, you are canonically frail, and while yes, her abilities scale with max HP in-game, that's not a thing in D&D.
And lastly, 8 Strength, as again, you are frail.
For Race, Yelan is a human, and Variant Humans get a Feat. The Actor Feat is perfect for going undercover. You get +1 to Charisma, advantage on Deception and Performance checks to pass off as another person, and you can spend a minute listening in on someone to mimic their speech. Bump your Intelligence and Charisma with your 2 Free points, take Perception for your Skill of choice, and the Spy Background for Stealth and Deception as you are an Intelligence Agent.
We’ll kick things off as a Rogue. 1st Level Rogues can pick 4 Skills from the Rogue list. Insight, Persuasion, Sleight of Hand, and Investigation would be my picks. You also get Expertise in 2 of those Skills, doubling your proficiency bonus with them. Go for Persuasion and Deception to order your way around everyone. You also learn Thieves Cant, letting you speak in secret code words, and Sneak Attack, giving you an extra d6 to add to a weapon attack once per turn if you either have advantage on the attack roll or have an ally within 5 feet of you.
2nd Level Rogues get Cunning Action, letting you Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a Bonus Action.
3rd Level Rogues get to pick a Roguish Archetype, and Inquisitive is useful for uncovering information. You have an Eye for Detail, letting you use a bonus action to make a Perception or Investigation check to find a hidden creature or object or check for clues. You also have an Ear for Deceit, meaning you cannot roll lower than an 8 on any Insight check to tell if someone is lying. You also get Insightful Fighting, letting you use a bonus action to have a creature you can see make a Deception check contested by your Insight check. If you succeed, then you can use your Sneak Attack on that creature without needing advantage or another ally for up to a minute or until you use it on someone else. Lastly, 3rd Level Rogues get Steady Aim, letting you use a bonus action to gain advantage on your next ranged attack roll as long as you don’t move or haven’t moved that turn, and Your Sneak Attack increases to 2d6.
4th Level Rogues get an Ability Score Improvement or a Feat. We’ll take the Skill Expert Feat for +1 to Charisma, Proficiency in Intimidation, and Expertise in Insight.
Now that we have our sneaky Rogue stuff handled for now, let’s multiclass into Bard, as while Yelan isn’t a singer or performer, Bards, much like Rogues, are very good in social situations. Multiclassing into Bard gets you 1 free Skill. Acrobatics would be my pick. You get Bardic Inspiration, letting you use a bonus action to give an ally a d6 they can use to add to an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw within the next 10 minutes, an amount of times per long rest equal to your Charisma modifier, similar to an Exquisite Roll. You can also cast spells as your Vision does grant you magical abilities. For your Cantrips, take Vicious Mockery and Message. For your spells, take Silvery Barbs, Charm Person, Dissonant Whispers, and Command.
2nd Level Bards get Jack of All Trades, letting you add half your proficiency bonus to any ability check you aren’t proficient with, which include initiative rolls. You also get Song of Rest, letting your allies add an extra d6 whenever they spend hit dice to restore HP during a short rest to keep them up in the field. You also get the option of Magical Inspiration, letting an ally who has a Bardic Inspiration die use it to add to the damage or healing of a spell.
3rd Level Bards can pick a Bard College, and College of Whispers is another fine choice for a deceptive and manipulative agent. You get Psychic Blades, letting you spend a Bardic Inspiration to deal an extra 2d6 Psychic damage with a weapon attack once per turn. You also get Words of Terror, letting you spend a minute talking to someone alone and have them make a Wisdom saving throw or be frightened by you or another creature you choose for up to an hour or until the target is attacked. If they succeed, they have no indication you tried to frighten them. You can now also learn 2nd Level Spells. Take the spells Hold Person and Zone of Truth to catch them in the net.
Last, but not least, 3rd Level Bards get Expertise in 2 more Skills. Go for Perception and Investigation.
4th Level Bards get an Ability Score Improvement. Cap your Charisma for the most Bardic Inspiration and better spells and skills. Take the spell Invisibility.
5th Level Bards get Font of Inspiration, meaning your Bardic Inspiration now recharges on a short rest as well, and it also upgrades from a d6 to a d8. You can also learn 3rd Level Spells. Take the Spell Nondetection. Your damage from Psychic Blades also increases to 3d6.
6th Level Whispers Bards get Mantle of Whispers, letting you use your reaction to capture the shadow of a humanoid that dies within 30 feet of you. Until you finish a long rest, you can use your action to assume the form of the Shadow, taking on the humanoid’s appearance for 1 hour or until you end it as a bonus action. While you're disguised, you gain access to all information that the humanoid would freely share with a casual acquaintance, Such information as general details on its background and personal life, and you gain a +5 bonus to Deception checks when someone tries to see through your disguise. Once you capture a shadow, you cannot do so again until you finish a short or long rest. For your spell, take Hypnotic Pattern.
Lastly, 6th Level Bards get Countercharm, letting you use your action to give you and your allies advantage on saving throws against being charmed or frightened, but this feature is honestly pretty bad.
Back to Rogue for the rest of the build. 5th Level Rogues get Uncanny Dodge, letting you use your reaction to halve the damage you take from an attack against you. Your Sneak Attack also increases to 3d6.
6th Level Rogues get Expertise in 2 more skills. Go for Stealth and Intimidation.
7th Level Rogues get Evasion, meaning when you make a Dexterity saving throw to avoid damage, you take no damage on a success, and only half on a failure. Your Sneak Attack also increases to 4d6.
8th Level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement. Bump your Dexterity for better AC, damage, and initiative.
9th Level Inquisitive Rogues get Steady Eye, giving you advantage on Perception and Investigation checks if you use no more than half your movement that turn. Your Sneak Attack also increases to 5d6.
10th Level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement. Keep bumping your Dexterity.
11th Level Rogues get Reliable Talent, meaning you cannot roll lower than a 10 on any skill you have Proficiency or Expertise with. Your Sneak Attack also increases to 6d6.
12th Level Rogues get our last Ability Score Improvement. Cap your Dexterity for more AC, damage, and initiative.
We’ll finish off the build with 2 Levels in Fighter. 1st Level Fighters can pick a Fighting Style, and Archery will add +2 to the attack rolls you make with Ranged weapons. You also get Second Wind, letting you heal 1d10+your Fighter level as a bonus action once per short or long rest to stay up in the fight.
Our Capstone is the 2nd Level of Fighter for Action Surge, letting you take an additional action once per rest.
Now that we’ve hit Level 20, let’s go over the strengths of this build. First, you are insanely good in social situations. You have Expertise in 6 Skills, and paired with Reliable Talent, your minimum for any Charisma check is a 28, along with Mantle of Whispers, making you a master at gathering intel and espionage. You also have solid damage thanks to Action Surge, Sneak Attack and Psychic Blades, letting you deal up to 11d6+10 damage in a single round, with Steady Aim to gain advantage. Lastly, you’re a really good support with Bardic Inspiration and useful crowd control spells.
For weaknesses, you are fairly squishy, sitting at 125 average HP. While you do have Evasion, Uncanny Dodge, range, and a decent 17 AC with Studded Leather, if you’re caught in the wrong situation, then you’re gonna go down easily. If you want more HP then can swap out either your INT or WIS scores for CON since you're gonna have Expertise in your INT and WIS skills. You’re also vulnerable to Strength saving throws, meaning you can easily be tossed around. Lastly, you have multiple features that require your bonus action, meaning you’ll have to pick and choose what to use each turn.

So I only started imraldi in May, im bi weekly and just took my 3 Rd jab today but noticed a pattern wondered if anyone had the same.
1st injection within 1 hour flipping life time life charger miracle no jokes decreased my axial spondyloarthritis pain by half then over the days alot , after a week started to wear thin then I was OK again.
2nd jab within hour si joint pain like I could feel both sides inflamed and pain then by next days settled and was pain free
3rd jab today could feel it was wearing off as had some joint pain in si joints took jab and a few hours on my si joints feels sore and inflamed like it's fighting.
Hoping by tomorrow or day after I'll be pain free again , just find it weird I know there's not alot in system as I only take 40mg just wondered if anyone experiences the same after a jab , I just assume it's my body fighting the inflammation while the medication circulates the body