Western Expedition
[Evan Yang] vs [Zygarde Lee]
Evan rampaged on. He had no intellect, he had become a machine.
Intelligence: N/A
Zygarde: Snap out of it!
Zygarde took out his batons.
Evan: ...
[Gangseo (No 4): "Lu Bu" Evan Yang]: ???, XXR, A+ (Assurged), N/A, ???

Zygarde couldn't block it. The force of Evan's punches crumpled his batons.
Zygarde: Crazy bastard.
Lower 5: we will help you sir!
Lower 5
[North Gangseo (No. 16): Won Hakjun]: SSR, SR, B (Awakened), B, SR
[North Gangseo (No 17): Bae Ji-Woong]: SR+, SR, B+ (Awakened), B, SR
[North Gangseo (No 18): Taekbeom Gu]: SR+, SR+, B (Awakened), A+, SSS+
[North Gangseo (No 19): Jeong Baek]: SR, SR, A(Awakened), A, SR
[North Gangseo (No 20): Cheonhak Kim]: SSS+, SR, A(Awakened), C, SR+
Zygarde: What the fuck are you morons doing?! Stay back!
Zygarde sighed. I didn't want to use this now...
He dropped his batons and got into a new stance.
Ji-Woong: What's that?
One month prior...
???: My great-grandbaby! I can't believe you guys made something so cute!
??? vs Zygarde Lee and Hae-in Kim
Winner: ???
Zygarde: F-fuck...
???: I'll be taking Yeon for now...
He looks down to see Zygarde biting on his Achilles tendon.
???: Because a real father's strength comes out when the baby is in danger!
Place: ???
Yeon: Grapa! Grapa! ???: Zygarde and Hae-in have done a good job raising you.
Day 1: Winner: ??? ???: Not bad for a first try.
Day 2: Winner: ??? ???: I don't see it.
Day 3: Winner: ??? ???: You've gone soft my boy.
The old man sighed.
???: I don't see it, boy.
...
A month later...
Yeon: Grapa! Bye!
???: Good Job. You've finally learnt it.
Zygarde swaddled Yeon in her arms.
???: Unfortunately, we only have a month, but you're a smart boy. You'll do well.
???: You've finally picked up CQC.

[Gangseo (No 4): "Lu Bu" Evan Yang]: XR, XXX, A+ (Assurged), D, XR
Evan: Zuhhhh...
[Gangseo (No 5): "Commander" Zygarde Lee]: XX, XXX, A+ (Ascended), SS, XX



Zygarde: It's time to rest, Evan.
[Gangseo (No 5): "Commander" Zygarde Lee]: XXX^up!, XR^up!, A+ (Ascended), SS, XX

Evan fell.
Winner: Zygarde Lee
Western Expedition: Complete!
Southern Expedition
???: What are you doing?
[North Gangseo (No 9): "Six Fingers" Seongji Yun]: XX, X, S(Ascended), B, XX
Yun: Y'all are slow. Yechan told me to send some of y'all to the east.
Kai: Meh-
William: I'll go.
Kai (muttering): Excited bitch.
Yun: Sure.
William: Bong. Great job.
[Bucheon High (No 1): Hu Jiram] vs [Gangseo (Personal Executive): Bong Kwang]
Winner: Bong Kwang
[Gangseo (Personal Executive): Bong Kwang]: SSR+, SSR, A+ (Awakened), C, SSR+ (Rebirth)
Southern Expedition: Complete!
Eastern Expedition
[Gangseo (No 7): "Swordsman" William Texiter]: XX, XX, S (Ascended), A, X ^new!
Northern Surveillance
Adrian: Mapo union huh? Interesting. This should be good enough for now.
Adrian calls Mangu.
Adrian: I'm coming back.
Northern Surveillance: Complete!
Eastern Expedition
William: This should be where he is. I should surprise him!
William broke the door with a heavy strike.
William: Sup b-
William saw the twisted remains of men. Some were lodged into the walls, some were twisted. Many had a look of fear before succumbing to their fates.
William: Seol Jin went above and beyond huh?
Doha: Sir.
[Gangseo (Personal Executive): Doha Han]: UR, UR+, A(Awakened), C, UR+
William: Oh. Doha. Great progress. Why am I here though?
Doha shifted nervously. He couldn't maintain eye contact with William.
William: Spit it out. Doha: The thing is... William: Is? Doha: Mr Seol Jin.... William: Does he need any help? Doha: I think you should see it for yourself.
Place: Head office of Gateway
William: Oh.
Seol Jin was out of it. He trashed the room. He was reduced to a man with nothing but rage.
William: Jin?
The teenager stood up.
[North Gangseo (No 10): "Vanguard" Kim Seol Jin]: X, X, B(Ascended), F ^down!, XX
He took a step forward. In his hand was the heart he had ripped out of the man's chest.
William: What the f-
He crushed it and fell with a thud.
Western Expedition: Complete!
A few hours later...
Place: Gangseo HQ
Mangu: Great job you guys. Take a break. Adrian, Zygarde, Evan, Hwangyan. We need to talk.
A few moments later...
[Gangseo (No. 1): "Emperor" Hwangyan]: XXR, XR, S(Assurged), A, XXR
[Gangseo (No. 2): "Genius" Adrian Ciel]: XX, XXX, A+ (Ascended), S, XX
[Gangseo (No 3) "Business Man" Mangu Yeong]:XX, XXX, A+ (Ascended), S+, XX
[Gangseo (No 4): "Lu Bu" Evan Yang]: XR, XXX, A+ (Assurged), D, XR
[Gangseo (No 5): "Commander" Zygarde Lee]: XX, XXX, A+ (Ascended), SS, XX
Zygarde: So. How was Mapo, Adrian? Adrian: There is a union controlling the region. I think it's called "Mapo Union". They have various businesses. The north needs more planning than we expected.
The men in the room nodded at one another.
Evan: So we can't barge in and take over? Mangu: Yeah. At least not for the time being. Evan: Wuh? Hwangyan: It means we can barge in later. Evan: Cool! I can wait!
Mangu stood up.
Zygarde: Is it finally time for that?
Mangu nodded.
Mangu: It's time for a reshuffle. Hwangyan: Reshuffle? Zygarde: The crew's grown. The normal rankings aren't gonna cut it anymore. Adrian: So what do you propose?
Mangu smiled.
Mangu: We'll do it like the workers have!
Hwangyan's ears perked.
Mangu: We'll rename our crew to Empire.
Hwangyan's rubbed his nose.
Hwangyan (shameless): No need to thank me. Evan: So cool! Empire! Zygarde and Adrian: Cringey bastards.
Mangu coughed.
Mangu: Moving on. We have to make do without the numbers.
Mangu brought a whiteboard in. It showed the hierarchy of the members
Emperor (Head) >>> Archdukes (Vice-Heads) == Dignitaries (VVIPs) >>> Ministers (Affiliate heads)
MInisters:
Dukes (President/ Affiliate Heads) >>> Marquess (Chairmen) >>> Earls (High Executive) >>> Viscount (MIddle Executive) >>> Baron (Low executive) >>> Commoners (Workforce)
Zygarde: You've been reading Otome Isekais! Mangu: They spark joy.
Hwangyan scrutinised the board.
Hwangyan: So I'm the Emperor. You guys are my archdukes? Mangu: Yep. Though Zygarde and Evan will have a "Duke" and "Marquess" title as well. Hwangyan: I see... Mangu: I think we should start on the reshuffle.
[I'll leave the list for AU Character positions (3)]

The rift between them has caused a lot of tension in my family and now my mom wants to be in the life of her newborn grandson but refuses to address or try to mend things with my wife.
Little history: I probably introduced them too quickly. My grandmother was in town in south Florida about to move here from Illinois for a retirement community. My wife, girlfriend at the time, came with cookies or some form of baked goods like she usually does when visiting someone as a sign of affection and respect. Where it went wrong from here I have no idea. I suppose the initial crack was when wife scheduled a skitrip for her and I to have as a 1 year of dating anniversary present. We are not rich, this is a huge gift that made sense to her since I refused to let her pay rent. Our combines salaries are barely over 120k. So wife calls mom 6 months in advance because she is a planner for the sole purpose of asking my mom to watch one of our four dogs. Wife has already paid in full for the trip. Yet Mom decides it is a great idea to instead use the opportunity to hop on and take a family trip because it is the last time the family will have for a family vacation - I am the oldest of two boys and two stepsisters, my mom married the guy she left my father for who has twin girls of his own that were in the womb during the infidelity. Anyway mom completely takes over and decides to make our one year gift a family vacation, so she books tickets for a hotel nearby. Wife is bold but at the time not bold enough to stop my mom in her tracks for overstepping a boundary. At this time she still respected my mother and kind of let herself get steamrolled.
Probably skippable Family history: Now I have always had issues with my mother, resentment for leaving my father for my stepdad behind my own fathers back and constantly trying to keep brother and I from seeing “Disneyland dad who doesn’t do any of the work but gets all the fun.” my mother was very strict growing up, always bringing us to church and making my father feel guilty for not bringing brother and I on his weekend. So mom marries stepdad age 11, divorces him around 13 after asking me advice for her relationship and i encourage her to move out. Then remarries him and moves us back into his house age 15. Here I begin rebellion and normal teeenager stuff but stepdad won’t butt in because he isn’t my “biological father” so would have my mom intervene brother and i from behind the scenes. For example, I am young and messing around on the piano because music is important and I never had any formal training and mom comes in to tell me stepdad “wants to know when the concert is going to end because it is a little annoying.” Anyway, they have me prescribed adderall at 16 and in the parking lot holding my first prescription I am told that they would like me to move out and in with my father, who had chased us every time mom and stepdad moved several miles away (5 moves from age 5-15 all in one county). Anyway, brother and I are recovering alcoholics with (my) slipups triggered from interactions or visiting my mom, which mom claims is genetics from my father alone and has nothing to do with her. Maternal grandfather, mother, and I have some nasty temper problems which certainly are exacerbated by drinking (at least mine and moms).
Skitrip revelations: Wife and I are on the way to brothers graduation in Chicago, and wife has yet to reveal to me that my mother has taken over her massive investment of a couples ski vacation and it will now be a family vacation for mom, stepdad, brother, two stepsisters who are all getting out of gradschool. On the way to the airport I am told the news by future wife of my one year surprise. So I get upset and call my mom to call it off. She obliges my request and now holds resentment against me and now wife for “ruining her last family vacation.” Fine, whatever. Mother never says a word about it for months until we are out for a distant family members birthday dinner and at a table of about 8-10 people that are having a group conversation and gets real close to my wife’s ear and tells her privately along the lines of “you deprived our family of our last family vacation.” During this time my wife is frantically tapping my leg under the table because my mom can get a little aggressive. My mom saw this and later (privately to me) mocked her for doing it to my leg under the table.
Christmas blessings: Closer to Christmas maybe 2/3 weeks later we went to go see my mom and my mom had a couple drinks in her (not an alcoholic like brother and I just very sensitive to a couple glasses of wine and occasionally some hidden sips of wine or something) and invites my wife to Christmas church and out to dinner after because the family needs photos for a Christmas card and future wife “will be the photographer for it.” Now this can easily be a nothing comment but given the way my mom had been making future wife feel, it was taken as an insult. So wife declined church and showed up to family dinner just in time for photography session to be over.
The distance: Then mom moves to a fancy house up the coast and invites us up to visit. At first it is ok to bring the 4 dogs then the day before she says they will not have dogs at the house and we can easily find a sitter. 2 Dogs don’t get along, they need to be separated always as there has been two attacks on one from the other, so we can’t trust someone to come to the house and keep them separate and we won’t board 4 dogs it’s too expensive for us. Anyway we go back and forth being invited with the dogs then they retract the offer and say pick one dog to bring and leave the others and it’s just annoying, so we say forget it and don’t go. But my brother becomes engaged and decides to throw his engagement party at my mom’s new place near the beach. Great. First all the dogs are welcome, then day before they say it is too chaotic and she will pay for a small hotel room for one night for future wife and her dogs and my one (the attack dog) can stay in a crate at the house with me but I may not leave the dog to stay with her. And no reasonable cheap hotel in the area is going to accommodate 4 dogs. Anyway wife is stressed but feels obligated to come because I am the best man and I stay at the house while she checks her dogs into the hotel. Wife had made a cheesecake and brought it up in a separate car from me, 4 hour drive by the way, and night of.. my mom says no desserts for engagement party dinner, the dessert is themed or some crazy stuff. Wife shows up to dinner a little later and very flustered because of the situation plus I had relapsed on a bottle of whiskey a couple days prior to seeing my mom. Related, I don’t know. Anyway. Mom has had a couple drinks and future wife and I are talking about having children and religion comes up. Mom asks what we were thinking of doing about baptism or not and I jokingly said (guiltily to get on my moms nerves a bit) that he would have a bris and would love it if she would come to the bar mitzvah. now my wife’s mom was forced to convert from Catholicism to Judaism for her own mother in laws acceptance for a failed marriage so wife is not religious, but it hurt my wife and reasonably so when my mom replied “oh, son, I raised you better than that.” Still no acknowlegement of fault from that comment and mom thinks wife is “overly sensitive, dramatic, and childish” for wanting an apology for it.
Weddings: Future wife becomes current wife. We had gotten engaged on our next anniversary trip she planned for us. I proposed on our bike and barge through tulip season in holland with our feet in the water of the North Sea after a picnic in the dunes. her family business manufactures photo albums for professional photographers, so aside from our families all being divorced, estranged, difficult, and us trying to save money, we did not have a wedding, we just did the paperwork within a month of the proposal. I had already decided to have a baby with her before the trip so we were trying. 2 weeks before brothers wedding in Tennessee we become pregnant, so we break news immediately as to not steal limelight from brothers expensive wedding. Mom says she will cover cost of rental car so we can save money. Ok great. She books the tiny car and we pack it and head up the Smokey mountains to the cabins we are staying at. Two cabins for grooms family, one for his mother and one for his father, ten paces from each other: they havnt spoken but twice im since divorce in 1995 but through lawyers. Grandmother, mother, stepdad, 2 stepsisters and one boyfriend stayed in mom’s side. Wife and I stay at father’s side cabin with just his wife. His Wife’s 3 daughters and family’s stayed a town away down the mountain among extended family. Anyway, beautiful wedding takes place. My wife is sent into town to collect flowers and run errands for my mom which she happily obliged to since she is a solitary person and did not want wedding day drama. Day after, we are loading our rental sedan with our bags. Mom and grandma need a ride to the airport and our flight is before theirs so they will drop off the car for us 4 hours or so after we go to the airport 5 hours from current time. We’re loading the car. Stepcousin passed out in mother’s cabin night before and needed a ride. Disorganized brunch for 20 people is trying to be made. Father’s wife’s daughter books a reservation for 10 people which include her family, her sisters, me, my wife, dad, and their mom. My stepdad had left for home at this point as he had taken his own suv instead of flying with my mom and 90 year old grandma. So mom is trying to pack grandma in the car with bags and my wife and stepcousin. At this point mother asks stepmother if she and grandma are on reservation for the brunch. Stepmom says no they are not, she wasn’t sure of their plans. Mom says under her breath “fucking assholes, so typical,” and she goes into a bit of a rage to which my stepmom says here “it’s ok I will call and add you two it’s no big deal.” So we continue packing the car and realize we won’t all fit. So my wife tells my stepcousin to go ride with my father to the restaurant 10 minutes away we will meet you there. Mom says to wife, “no you go with the father.” Wife says “no I am going to ride with my husband” mom gets close to her face with her finger and says “this is my car, you can fucking Uber!” Wife is 6 weeks pregnant at this point and it all escalated from here. wife and mother start yelling at each other swearing at each other and we get into the car, mom behind wife who was in shotgun. 2 occasions on the trip I had to stop the car because mom had taken off her seatbelt to stand over the seat and scream in my wife’s face with so much vigor that spit came on to her face multiple times. I’m trying to tell them both to behave and mom sit down shut the f up. Mom is telling wife to get the f out of the car and find a ride, she has no right to speak because she’s “new here” (dating and living together for 3 years at this point). The following brunch she apologized in a crowd with a hushed voice at a table of 20 people trying to have a group conversation again privately to my wife “I’m sorry you get so upset” and my wife told her “that is not an apology.” The following several hours in the car with grandma and stepcousin and wife were some of the most uncomfortable moments of my life. At a gas station I pulled my mom aside and said I need ther to give a huge apology, that it was so nasty and inappropriate, my brother and I are used to abusive language and aggressive behavior but to my pregnant wife and any other human being it is disgusting and unacceptable. Sitting in the car was quiet for many hours until we got to the airport. No speaking about what happened just mom happy go lucky about Tennessee and Dollywood and wife and I in shock, cousin still half in the bag from a fun wedding, grandma 90 years old probably confused about what happened.
The family groupchat: Im waiting on an apology from my mother to my wife who is extremely hurt and expressed to my mom loads of time she needs to reach out and apologize. We’re not talking until she will do so. It is bugging me and keeping me up at night. My appendix flares up and I am admitted to the hospital with emergency appendectomy. Still pregnant Wife suggests I reach out to mom to let her know what’s going on. So I text mom I’m at the hospital and will have surgery. I send a pic or something that on my end says hasn’t gone through. Mom group texts our family group with stepdad, his daughters, brother and his wife, and grandma that I am in the hospital and attaches the pic I sent of me in there. Then she continues to rave about the success of her startup company and how they got FDA approved clinical trials finally completed or some pivotal moment that made the text about her. Wife and I are in a hospital so the picture comes up on moms end as unable to have been sent. Mom assumes that my wife has blocked her phone, so mom removes my wife from the chat. Wife is rushing home to take care of the dogs at this point and is not alerted on her phone, but on everyone else’s phone it clearly reads “(mom) has removed (wife) from the chat.” Immediately I text my mom and basically say how dare you do that to her she is the one who insisted I let you know out of respect and mom responds with blah blah she did this she did that I will not have it. So I go back to the family chat and remove mother. At this point I let everyone in the chat know what my mother has done and how she refuses to take responsibility for how she made my wife feel, address her feelings, apologize or do anything at all to reach out about the wedding incident or even inquire about the wellbeing of the pregnancy for her first grandchild. Stepdad finally steps in and tells me “enough.” Grandma says “shame on you.” I am dumbfounded. This is a hush hush family that hates to have anything out in the open and likes to maintain a picture perfect image. For examples; 1) I and wife were on the family Christmas card of a photo taken at the wedding that the whole world received except for wife and I. 2)brothers alcoholism was to remain hidden from the family as was his rehab treatment and how it affected his career. Now understand that they like to keep things quiet but that is not how I want to handle my problems, these things trigger alcohol use and violent outbursts on my part that I no longer wish to live through. Now appendectomy’s are pretty simple so I recovered quickly (it don’t rupture we just took it out). But during the time I was scheduled to be under anesthesia, stepdad reaches out to wife to have a chat and clear the air. Wife waits until I come to so i can be there and I hear the conversation. He claims to be here as a middleman like a business meeting to fix things once and for all. Wife and I are like wow great. He then proceeds to double down on my moms behalf that they will not be apologizing or meet any of her demands as she had already apologized as confirmed by 90yo grandma who was in the car and my mother herself. The term he used was stalemate to describe the situation. Wife and I are shocked but she has me keep quiet to show me what he will say. He proceeds to yell at her and they were screaming at each other, again steamrolling the conversation assuring us that he was down the middle yet maintains that mom has made a sufficient apology that needs to be accepted and wife needs to grow up and move on, then wishing her luck with the baby and a nice life. Next day I call stepdad to see how it went. He reassures me that he has done all he can and everything is back to normal. At this point I call him out and tell him I was conscious and explain to him what an apology is. But there is no dialogue with this guy like there is no dialogue with my mother. He proceeds to talk loudly over me like she does and basically call me a piece of shit for the amount he and mother have done for me. I speak to him first time like I never have before by calling him a hands off father and a pussy of a man who finally reaches out while he thinks I am under anesthesia to yell at my wife then pretend it’s cool, and I basically tell him he has never done a single thing for me to try and develop me into a man or nurture me as a child into an adult, but he thinks taking me on fishing trips and ski vacations are equivalent to love and nurturing growth and development just like my mom does. I reassure him that he has no right to talk about family being that he ruined his own as well as mine and couldn’t even tell my dad to his face that it was him who was sleeping with my mom behind his back when my dad came to him very upset as a friend when he got an anonymous phone tip at work one day. Then him and my mom laughed about it in court when my dad brought it up during the divorce. We ended with swearing and I felt very happy for finally giving my true feelings to him.
The birth: Months go by and nobody has said a thing. I can’t sleep at night seeing how much love I am getting from my father and his side for the baby, and my wife’s family, then thinking about how my own mother hasn’t reached out a single time. I’m dreaming about beating up my stepdad and it’s driving me mad. So weeks before the due date I reach out to my mom begging her to clear things up and apologize to my wife. Nothing. A week later i tell her how disappointed and abandoned I feel and want her in the family. Nothing. Baby comes a couple days early. Everyone is excited. Mom texts me begging for photos and to let everyone know. I tell her my brother and two stepsisters have received photos. I ask her to please reach out to wife she still needs to make amends for what’s happened between them and all she needs to do is reach out. Mom’s responses have been defensive, derisive, projecting, playing victim and referring to herself as a kicked puppy. Telling me my wife needs to apologize to her and making the conversation about mother son instead. She is beating around the bush. And she is sending me photos of my own baby that I did not send her. Her friends are congratulating me that I did not tell. Again she is pretending that everything is ok and it is not. She asked me to apologize to her husband for what I said on the phone that day. I said ok, watch this. So I sent the guy a message that was very apologetic and not passive aggressive or backhanded comments in any way. Still my mom won’t say anything.
Now: Baby is 6 days old. He is the best thing in my life and I wish my family were involved but it seems like I am living in a fantasy world where everyone can be happy together. I can be a jerk and have a terrible relationship with my mom, but I want more than anything to just feel loved enough where she can swallow her pride and make amends with my wife. Thats it. And she asked the other day to put a family group chat so everyone can be involved… for real? I know she is stressed with a high pressure job, but it seems heartless to me. She asks what big items she can get for the baby. Mom, baby is here we have everything for a couple months already. I said the biggest thing you can do is reach out and have a heart to heart with my wife so this rift can end and we can at least be cordial if you two can’t get along. I don’t think it will happen.

Cyborg #59 - Test of Strength

<< < >
Author: Commander_Z
Book: Cyborg
Arc: Machine Mayhem
Set: 96
Previously:
Victor Stone, Donna Morris and Keiji Otari worked together to create a robot called Atlas to participate in the collegiate Machine Mayhem tournament, a robot fighting competition. The humanoid robot easily crushed its competition in the first round but disappeared overnight before the second round. His three creators split up to track him down, with Keiji finding the machine in a back alley a little ways away from the stadium...
Keiji stood before the massive figure, blinking, trying to focus his mind. He had had many late nights and early mornings over the past couple weeks, so Keiji figured he was still sleeping. Or hallucinating. Or both, somehow. But, the voice rang out, its clearest yet, “No.” ‘Clear’ was a very generous and relative term, though. The noise wasn’t modulating through a speaker or a voice box, instead Atlas was making his own speaker by vibrating the motors and joints that allowed him to move.
The alley that Keiji found Atlas in was less than an ideal to make changes to a robot, but Keiji figured that Atlas would be understanding considering the circumstances. He pulled out an old bluetooth speaker out of his backpack and gestured towards Atlas with it.
“This’ll help you. No more grinding gears to talk. Just got to trust me for a few minutes, okay?”
Atlas stood still for a few moments, whether he was thinking or just unsure how to make a positive affirmation with his joints, Keiji couldn’t know. But, after awhile, he responded.
“Yes.”
Keiji set his backpack on the ground in the gross alley, making a mental note that he’d have to clean that later and got to work.
Around ten minutes later, he was done.
“Okay, Atlas. Try to use the speaker. It’s connected to RO23 on the tertiary control board.”
“...T…Te….ing…Test…Testing. Speaker operation confirmed.” Atlas spoke in a deep, synthetic voice that occasionally warped itself in tone, like how a whammy bar would add vibrato to a chord on a guitar.
“Great. So… Atlas… What's going on with you? Why’d you leave?”
“I am performing my task: defeat opponents, become the strongest. No foes in that arena were a challenge. Therefore, I left.”
Keiji raised an eyebrow. “That’s… not what we made you for. We made you to win Machine Mayhem, not to pursue strength as some sort of goal in of itself.”
“Incorrect. Nowhere in programming was “winning the Machine Mayhem tournament” a specified goal.”
“Okay, but I programmed you, and I’m telling you that was the intention.”
“Intentions are irrelevant. A teacher may shape their students’ minds, but they cannot determine what anyone does with their knowledge. That is a privilege reserved for each and every individual being. You say I was programmed to win a tournament. I say that I was programmed to make myself the strongest being. Only my interpretation is relevant.”
‘I guess that’s not an invalid interpretation of what I programmed him to do. But… that’s not exactly a sane or safe perspective on life…’
“And how are you doing that? Just fighting anyone you can see?”
“No. I have already stated that I found those machines in that arena unworthy of my efforts, in my short time in the outside world I have seen humans to be much the same. Few of you would pose any challenge.”
“Well, that’s a little more reassuring that you won’t just be fighting everyone you see. But - ”
Suddenly, a woman about Keiji’s age flew into the alleyway, riding on a metallic pink hoverboard. She wore hot pink combat boots with dark black leggings, and a matching hot pink sleeveless top with thick metallic bands around her wrists that went up to her forearms. Her eyes were obscured by a visor-like pair of glasses, tinted a reflective red to hide her identity.
And yet, Keiji knew instantly that she had to be Donna Morris. He knew that she had been working on some other project with Vic before they started Atlas, but he figured it was just for some shared class or lab work. But this… This was unexpected.
“Halt… robot! Step away from the civilian and no one needs to get hurt!”
‘Why’s she speaking so formally? Guess it’s some mindset thing.’
Neither Atlas nor Keiji reacted to what Donna was saying. Keiji knew she wasn’t talking to him, and Atlas just seemed indifferent to her presence. Finally, Atlas turned and faced her.
“You seem powerful. Show me the strength of your will and I may concede.”
“This doesn’t need to be violent. We can talk it out, here or somewhere else.”
“Actions speak louder and truer than words.” Atlas moved into a combat position, leaning forwards on his left leg, raising his fists up to his chest.
“Come.”
“Don- ”
“When I’m in the suit, it’s Black Narcissus. Some of us like to keep our identities secret, no offense to Cyborg, wherever he is.” Donna said.
“Okay, nice to meet you, Black Narcissus. Just… be careful with Atlas. He’s stronger than he looks.”
Donna smiled. “So am I. Just watch.”
Donna pressed her thumb and index finger together on both hands and a large light on the back of her hands turned gray. She pointed her hands right at Atlas, who still stood in his combat position, waiting.
A thick, gray fluid shot out of her gauntlets, ensnaring Atlas’ arms to his body and his legs to the ground.
“Gotcha! That’s industrial strength adhesive - ”
Atlas flexed his arms and the adhesive snapped with ease, then crouched his legs before springing upwards towards Black Narcissus and her hoverboard. She quickly flew out of the way but Atlas managed to barely get one hand on the board. Black Narcissus pressed her thumbs to her middle fingers, changing the cartridge in her gauntlets. The light on the back changed to purple and she fired her gauntlets again, launching a blast of energy at Atlas.
The extra energy rattled the robot’s circuits, and he released his grip on the board to escape further damage, sending him crashing back to the ground. She shot another salvo of energy blasts at the machine, keeping him stunned on the ground.
She switched her left gauntlet back to adhesive, hoping that it would be able to restrain a weakened Atlas. Before it could reach him, the robot rolled out of the way and grabbed a trash can, hurling it at Donna. She swerved out of the way again, then dodged a second trash can thrown as a follow up.
After the second can, she was on her toes, prepared for a third, but it didn’t come. She looked around, trying to find where Atlas went, but he was completely out of sight. She sensed him at the last moment, coming from the rooftop that he jumped up to. He grabbed her board and slammed it to the ground with her on it. The board shattered into a million pieces, but Donna seemed unharmed. Atlas sprung up, ready to keep fighting, and Black Narcissus rose fractions of a second after. She pressed her thumbs to her ring fingers and the light on the black glowed a dark red.
She swung a right hand punch at Atlas who caught it in his left. But the light on the back of her gauntlet started to glow brighter as she put in more effort, pushing back against his metallic muscle. Atlas pushed his legs back, trying to stabilize himself. Donna started to push him back more and Keiji could hear the motors start to strain. Atlas stopped resisting against Donna, then, before she could take advantage of it, he kicked up some of the pieces of the broken hoverboard at her. Using her momentary surprise, he punched her square in the chest, knocking the wind out of her and sending her to the ground.
“You fought well,” Atlas said, turning away from her.
“Wait,” Donna said, getting up. “I’m not done with you.”
“Yes, you are. Accept your defeat. There is no shame in losing to the strongest.”
Before Donna could protest, Atlas turned to Keiji. “Come, and bring your things. I have use for you.”
Keiji raised an eyebrow, but grabbed his backpack and started to follow Atlas further down the alley.
He turned back to Donna and mouthed “I’ll text you” to her. He hoped she got the message.
⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️
“Stop here.”
Keiji stood behind Atlas, who was peering into an old garage a couple blocks from the alley where he fought Black Narcissus. He grabbed the padlock that was keeping the door shut and squeezed it, turning it into dust.
“You will find the tools you need in here. Repair the damage caused in the last fight, human.”
Keiji raised an eyebrow. “First off, I don’t really like being called “human”. Technically true, but feels hurtful in this context. Second, I’m a software guy. I couldn’t fix you if I wanted to. Third, being nicer to people will generally get you better results. Not really inclined to help someone who starts by insulting me.”
“Niceties are a waste of time. Fix me, or I will end you.”
Keiji shook his head. “No, you won’t. I can’t fix you, but you know my teammates can. And they’d never do that if you hurt me at all.”
Atlas punched the concrete wall in frustration, cracking it. “Very well. You are correct… I do need your help. What will they require to do so?”
“I don’t know. But come back to the arena with me. We can talk with them there and see what it takes.”
“Very well. Let your friends know that I require their assistance.”
⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️
Atlas stood before Vic and Donna, who made it back to their workspace just before the robot did. He towered over the three humans, but if any of them were intimidated, it was hidden behind a masterful poker face.
“Y’know, I thought more people would care that we just walked in with a robot and are talking with him like he’s a person,” Donna remarked.
“People are busy and indifferent. The other competitors probably think it’s a marketing scheme or something and are just ignoring us. I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Keiji said.
“Yeah, that. But so… Atlas has become sentient. Good for you, really. But… hooray. Another sentient robot,” Vic said.
“You see a lot of those?” Keiji asked.
“More than you’d think.”
“I am glad that you are not concerned by my presence. That saves me much effort. But the question at hand remains: I have been damaged and require repairs. Will you repair me?”
“Yes,” Vic and Donna said at the same time.
Vic looked at her, surprised. He figured she’d have some hesitancy.
“But, I’ve got a small condition for you. Should be no big deal. Win us the next round of the competition.”
“Ridiculous. You ask me to do something so trivial it is unfair, like a pro athlete competing at a preschool.”
Donna shrugged. “Yeah, it’s trivial and easy, but it helps us a lot.The club will look much better and get a lot more support for next season if we make it into the semifinals.”
“I’ll even raise the stakes. If you win the next round, we won’t make you enter the finals. Instead, I’ll give you a real challenge. You can fight me.”
“Why would I want that?”
“Because I’m the strongest one here by far. And, if that’s still not enough if you beat me, I’ll show you how to repair yourself. Then, we’ll let you go live as you want, provided you promise to only fight people who want to fight.”
Donna looked at Vic, concerned. “Who would want to willingly fight someone like Atlas?”
Vic sighed. “Trust me. There are plenty of weirdos in this world who just want to fight. It’s much better than me just throwing him in prison or taking him apart.”
Atlas made a noise that Vic thought was supposed to be a scoff. But maybe it was just static. The speaker wasn’t that high quality.
“You make a very strong set of promises if I win, which I will. But if by some miracle, you managed to cheat your way to victory… what happens then?”
Vic shrugged. “Pretty much the same thing. I’ll teach you how to repair yourself and let you go with the same stipulations. You just have to know that a human beat you.”
Atlas laughed. “You are a fool if you think that could ever happen. I accept your terms, human. Guide me to the arena, those boxes of scrap will be reduced to dust.”
Vic walked him over to the arena as as if he were any other competitor, but instead of waiting by the sidelines to see the results, he walked back to their workspace. He knew that Atlas would win and wanted to try and make sure that Donna and Keiji were on board with the other part of his plan.
When he got back, Donna was nervously pacing around while Keiji was scrolling through some webpage.
“So.. Vic… do you really think that this is the right idea? You’re just… unleashing him on the world. Isn't that irresponsible?” Donna asked.
“I don’t think so. Yeah he wants to fight people but he has restraint to some degree. He knows the difference being fighting every random person he sees and fighting someone who has a reasonable amount of strength. I dunno, I think him messing up and fighting… Superman or something and taking a big loss would teach him far more than we ever could or throwing him in jail for being dangerous. Is it a risk?… kinda. But so is any option.”
“So your best guess is just… let him go and figure it out?” Keiji said. “Isn’t that a bit too… hands off?”
“Got a better idea? That’s pretty much what we got to do.”
“No. I don’t. But this just feels... risky.”
“Yeah, it is. But he’s fairly reasonable after being conscious for what, 12 hours? Over time, he’ll probably mellow out and if he doesn’t, I can take care of him then. But he deserves a chance like anyone else.”
Keiji nodded. “Fine Vic. If that’s what you think the best path is… I’ll stand by you.”
“Same, Vic. I want to believe in him too.”
“Thanks guys, really. Hopefully we can all look back on this and agree this was the right path.”
A horn sounded and a voice came over the loudspeaker. “Semifinal-2 has ended! The winner is the University of Michigan’s Atlas! Please collect your robots and be ready for the finals at 1:00 PM.”
The team stood up and gave each other a round of high fives. They really had made something great. Now it was time to see just how great he really was.
⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️
Two hours later.
The team packed up after their semifinal match, citing an unspecified emergency with the tournament staff. They weren’t happy with the anticlimactic end, but ultimately they couldn’t force the three of them to continue to compete and so they left without much hassle.
The three of them drove north until they found the first open field that Vic and Atlas could have their match in. There wasn’t anywhere that they could find in the city that wouldn’t attract too much attention or put innocent people at risk and they managed to convince Atlas of that too. The robot was in the trailer towed behind the three of them, much to his chagrin.
But after a half hour or so, they found a spot. A wide open, grassy field with no one around to interfere or get hurt. A perfect spot for them to settle things. Vic got out of the car and started to stretch, trying to limber up after the car ride while Donna and Keiji helped Atlas out of the trailer.
Atlas rotated his head, taking in the environment. “A flat, quiet field. An honorable place for battle.”
Vic let out one lat calming exhale before approaching Atlas. “Plus, no one is around to get hurt. That’s important too.”
“...Yes. That too.”
“The rules are simple. A clean match, no foul play between either of us. Whoever is left standing when the other yields or is unconscious wins.”
Atlas laughed. “I will never yield.”
“We’ll see,” Vic grinned.
“Oh, one other thing. Not really a rule per say, but a strong suggestion: Try not to seriously hurt each other. You’re not trying to kill or maim each other,” Donna said.
“Yes, yes. May we begin?”
Vic nodded, and took a step backward, creating about ten feet of space between him and Atlas. Before the dust even settled, his arms were force cannons launching pure energy right at Atlas’ chest. Vic had designed Atlas, he knew that he wouldn’t be very damaged by those. But he had underestimated just how much he would be able to tank them. The force blasts did little more than chip the paint and an exhilarated Atlas sprinted at Vic like a charging bull.
Once Atlas was a few feet away from Vic, he prepared a concussive grenade and exploded it directly against Atlas, using the force to stagger him out of the charge. Before the robot could launch another attack, Vic swung a full force punch into the robots’ chassis, crumpling it inwards slightly. Vic followed up the punch with another, but Atlas was ready for it and parried it with his left arm, then kicked Cyborg away, sending him flying backwards.
Cyborg shot his force canons at the ground to give himself some momentum in the opposite direction, slowing himself down. But Atlas had some tricks up his metaphorical sleeves too. Having realized that a direct approach was difficult, he used his powerful hands like a backhoe to scoop up a massive piece of earth and hurled it at Cyborg. Vic was unsure how to react to this, or more precisely, how he expected Atlas to follow this attack up. The boulder itself was a problem, sure, but it was just to close the gap. Atlas could be using it to block his line of sight and be jumping right behind it, or he could be using the temporary blindspot caused by the massive object to approach from either side.
Instead of guessing, Vic decided to power through the problem. Vic shot both of his force cannons at the projectile, sending bits of dirt every which way. Atlas was hiding in what was once the dirt ball’s shadow and Vic took advantage of his surprise to launch himself at the robot. Cyborg shot his force cannons behind him, propelling himself forwards rapidly in a charge mirroring Atlas’ own.
He knocked the massive machine to the ground and sat on his chest, using his arms to pin down the machine’s.
“You’re down, Atlas. Do you yield?”
“I told you. I will never yield. I am the strongest!”
Atlas began to press his weight against Vic’s strength. Vic knew he was a match for Atlas’ strength but there was one key problem: stamina. Vic’s body was, of course, cybernetic in part, but it wasn’t the same. He was still human and human beings got tired. Machines did not.
Vic could already feel his muscle starting to fatigue. The fight hadn’t been long, but any fatigue was going to be the difference. He knew he was a match for Atlas’ strength when he was at 100%, but every percent below that made it more and more likely to be Atlas’ win.
‘I need to end this fight now or the immediate future if I want to win. But my normal attacks aren’t doing anything to him. I could try a sonic attack, but I don’t think that’d really effect him. I could try targeting his joints specifically, but those were designed to take more than I can give. But I can’t just let him overpower me for the win. That’d make him overconfident and more likely to get into trouble afterwards. No… I’ve got a better idea.’
In an instant, Vic’s muscles stopped resisting. “I yield.”
Vic pushed himself off Atlas, who stood up and looked at Cyborg, confused.
“What foe yields when he has his opponent on the ground, at his mercy? I demand you continue!”
“No. This fight was never to the death, only to yielding. But frankly, you aren’t strong enough to interest me. You said it yourself, you will never yield. And pummelling you to a point where you are the equivalent of unconscious just isn’t worth my time. So I yielded. Congrats. You win.”
Atlas stood, incredulous. “No. That is not allowed. I did not win. You lost! Those are not the same!”
Vic turned to Keiji and Donna and then noticed that the fight had taken them about 30 yards from where they started. He started to walk back towards them, and Atlas followed.
“Guys, I yielded that fight. Doesn’t that mean I lost?”
Keiji raised an eyebrow. “I guess?”
“See? Congrats, you won.”
“... I do not accept this victory. This is a loss in all but name. Mark my words, Victor Stone. I will wander the globe, facing foe after foe to grow stronger. I will become the strongest being and when I do, we will have a real fight, one where you must acknowledge my strength for real.”
“Looking forwards to it. Stay out of trouble until then, understood?”
Vic held out his hand for a handshake which Atlas begrudgingly accepted.
“Understood.”
“Atlas, catch.”
Keiji tossed a small flash drive to Atlas who had to bend down to grab it.
“That has all your schematics and drawings on it, as well as all the parts we used to make you and where we sourced them from. It’s probably the best thing out there to help you repair yourself.”
“Thank you. You all have given me much to think about it. When we meet again… I will be stronger in body and mind. Farewell for now but I will return to challenge you again, Victor.”
“I’ll be waiting. And I promise to go all out next time, Atlas.”
Atlas took off to the west, heading to only he knew where.
Once he was far enough out of sight, Vic laid down on the ground, exhausted.
“Well, that’s enough bluffing for the next decade. I really underestimated him.”
Donna sat down to his left, Keiji on his right.
“Told you that you were being cocky. We all built him but he’s out of all of our leagues,” Keiji said.
“Yeah… but I really wanted to do it, y’know? Kinda humbling to be beat by your own creation.”
“If it makes you feel better, I lost to him too,” Donna said.
“Wait what? When did you fight him?”
“I’ll tell you on the way back. Not my finest moment, but I put up a good fight.”
“Proud of you. You’ve come a long way in your training. But after that fight… I’m going to need to get a lot stronger and pick my own training back up. I kinda feel like I’ve been stagnant for awhile, just sort of winning my fights through grit and will power. But if Atlas had been hostile… I don’t think I could’ve stopped him. So, I’ll need to get back to the drawing board and see what I can do to take myself to the next level.”
“And we’ll be there to help you however we can. But uh… Vic, finals are in like two weeks. Maybe focus on that first?” Keiji suggested.
“I’d rather get beat up by another robot,” Vic groaned.
<< < >

My primary experience has been with KiCad and I was interesting in transitioning to Altium as I move toward more complex designs. Moreover, I am interested in working on a mmwave antenna project and it seemed like Altium would do better with that, though I have no evidence for this. I am using the trial of Altium for now. I am trying to figure out if my experience is an anomaly and will get better or if I should abandon ship at this point.
I have been struck by how quirky the user interface is and generally have the impression that people must just get used to it and deal with it. Here are some examples of my experiences so far.
1) There is no way to define the "hot keys" for the system, and the way the mouse works is not user-defined, the most obvious issue being than you can't pan with the middle mouse click, which is common on CAD-like tools (this fills me with a general sense of frustration and helplessness because I don't have a feeling that they will improve this aspect - I did some Googling and there are people asking about this from 2015 so it is clear that this will never change).
2) The component library has a Manufacturer Part Search, but this seems to be primarily to find suppliers and not to find symbols/footprints/models (in this way, it is basically a specialized Google search). When you do find the CAD data, you have to go through an out-of-band process to actually install them - i.e., download zip file, browse to folder, unzip, double-click and install component (I do not understand why you cannot install/use the component from this menu?). I still don't understand how components are generally managed so I must be missing something. It is putting the components in the project menu as a peer to the schematic which does not seem correct/right/logical.
3) When adding new sheets to a schematic, you can either add a sheet icon/part or create a new sheet. Then you have to associate the sheet to the part manually. If you use the tool to create a new sheet from the part it does not automatically connect the sheet to the part (you still have to do it manually, I assume as a show of dominance?).
4) I loaded up a component that I wanted to use, the pins were unorganized so I wanted to clean it up. I load up the component and try to use the pin wizard (I forgot the actual name) to quickly move pins from left <-> right side, I tried to select multiple pins, this doesn't work. I tried to paste "right" to multiple pins and the paste goes to some other pin that is entirely unselected. From what I can tell, this tool entirely does not work and seems like a vestigial development from last year's intern.
I want to like this tool, is this the experience that I should expect to have or am I just experiencing the normal growing pains that will lead to greater efficiency/quality?
Thanks

Living in Eastern Canada, it's not as easy for us (as compared to our American neighbors) to get our hands on perfume samples without paying insane delivery prices. Etiket, based in Montreal, stocks niche/designer fragrances & has samples you can buy for almost every fragrance they sell, so I decided to bite the bullet. I haven't tried much from niche houses, only designer, so I was curious & wanted to try scents in the hopes of finding a possible signature fragrance. I bought 14 samples + the 3 extras Etiket give you (if you ask), but this review only includes 10 of them because I haven't tried everything yet and I also don't want this post to be a freakin novel. I'll probably do the rest in another post later.
About my tastes : I'm a fruity floral, gourmand & fresh type of person.
I made my list by houses (in alphabetical order) so here we go :
Carner Barcelona
Sal Y Limon - 5/10
Nice and fresh citrusy scent, very much beachy vibes, but the patchouli kicks the rest to the curb after 30 minutes. Note to myself : DNB anything with patchouli because that's all it's going to end up smelling like.
Giardini di Toscana
Blu Indaco - 8.5/10
This one had to grow on me because at first its musk felt way too masculine for me. I tried it first on a piece of cotton because of that, then when I came back to it after 1 or 2 hours, it had morphed into something nice and sweet. Tried it on skin and this time I found the musk way less intense. I'm getting almond, vanilla, clean laundry notes. The pepper is also coming through and stops Blu Indaco from becoming nauseating. I like this but I'm not sure if I'd commit to a full bottle, however I'll probably try to get my hands on a travel size.
Jorum Studio
Phloem - ??? / 10
Captivated as soon as I open the vial. First note I catch is amber and it’s an amber that reminds me of Stella Peony by Stella McCartney’s base notes. Then, words that come to mind are pungent, salty and fresh. There’s a slight musk. I’m getting overripe passionfruit & petrichor, with something sour too.
10 minutes post first pray : I’m definitely understanding why some compare Phloem to women’s scent down there, because what I’m smelling definitely reminds me of the female genitalia, minus the animalistic notes of sex. There’s also powdery notes. Clean sweat. This is such a fascinating fragrance.
2h post spray : Anddddd this is where I got disappointed. Phloem turned into something woody and utterly disgusting, I can't even put my finger on what it is but I ended up scrubbing my wrists with rubbing alcohol bc it was giving me an headache.
A very interesting experiment but ultimately the base notes ruined it for me.
Healing Berry - 6.5/10
This is a bucketful of red and dark berries with something that's definitely tannic in essence, reminding me of wine. The blackcurrant and the raspberry shine in this. Strong sangria vibes. It smells very good, it's sweet without being nauseating, it works well on my skin, but for $105 USD / $140 CAD I am absolutely sure that I can find a dupe that's not nearly as expensive.
L'Artisan Parfumeur
Couleur Vanille : 9.5/10
In the words of Lady Gaga, talented, brilliant, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique...This is a fall in love at first whiff fragrance for me. If vanilla grew in the sea, this is what it would smell like. It's iodine, it's sweet, the immortelle notes gives an edge to it, I don't even know where to begin describing this. I know it's supposed to represent Madagascar, but having wandered through small town streets in southern France near the Méditerranée, this is what it reminds me of. I ordered a full bottle.
À Fleur de Pêche - 7/10
I'm so so so disappointed the patchouli ended up drowning everything else, because the rest is gorgeous. Smells just like a peach orchard, this is not an artificial peach, this is fresh, herbaceous, sweet. I've learnt my lesson, I can't do patchouli in a perfume because it doesn't work at all with my skin.
Imaginary Authors
A Whiff of Wafflecone - 5.5/10
This is a well done gourmand, thing is, this doesn't remind me of an ice cream shop at all, this is 100% sugar shack (and I say this as a Canadian). It smells like what maple syrup tastes, if that makes any sense, and I get where the waffle cone title comes from, because there's definitely a hint of that. I'm just not a big fan of maple scent & it doesn't remind me of ice cream, which kind of seemed to be the goal, so that's why I knocked points off. For someone who likes this type of stuff, this would be a easy 6.5/10. Just not my thing.
Malin + Goetz
Strawberry - 7.5/10
I live in Quebec province, where fresh grown strawberries are available from mid-May to late-September. This smells just like our strawberry fields in June - it's green, it's herbaceous, there's a distinct note of well, fresh soil. Absolutely not your typical juicy strawberry smell. There's also some interesting notes like hay and clean wood that, for some reason unknown to me, reminds me of horses, without being animalistic. Freshly cleaned stables. I like this a lot but the staying power is weak and as such, I feel like this would do better in a soap or a candle than as a perfume.
Parfums de Marly
Oriana - 1.5/10
Oh man, what a disaster. The head notes are a perfect raspberry lemonade but not even 2 minutes after getting it on skin, an overwelming powder scent drowns EVERYTHING else and smells like old lady (bass boosted). The 1.5 is for the gorgeous head notes, otherwise this would be a 0/10.
Zoologist
Bee - 8/10
I love a well done honey scent and this is honey on crack. One of my favorite scents is Honey I Washed the Kids by Lush, which is very honey forward as well. If I had to compare the two, Bee is the raw material and HIWTK would be the end product, if that makes sense. This is truly like being inside a beehive, there is nothing artificial or dessert-like about this honey scent, its staying power is strong and there is something floral in the middle and base notes that is incredibly satisfying. I get some orange juice as well in the background. The white florals don't steal the show but rather compliment the overall scent. I can't stop smelling my wrist. However, I completely understand reviewers who said it's too much for them. I could see myself wearing this on a date, but not at a job interview.

Author’s Note:
Upvotes and comments go a long way in helping me reach a larger audience <3
First
Inside GB-2
“Huh, that wasn’t there before,” Ron said, pointing to a new hole in the wall – another passageway.
Henry turned to look where Ron pointed. Sure enough, there was a new doorway. It must’ve been a section that opened after they restored the power. “Huh, yeah. Let’s check it out.”
He went through, finding a short hallway past it and another room just beyond. Henry signaled for his team to form up, preparing to breach. As they stepped in, they found themselves in a brightly lit room filled with various types of furniture – empty pedestals, comfortable-looking single couches, and empty desks with opened cabinets.
Henry stepped further into the room, eyeing the oddly arranged furniture. The single couches were lined up in neat rows, all facing the same direction – towards the empty desks. It was like some sort of waiting room, but for what?
“Is it just me, or are these couches set up weird?” Isaac asked, voicing the question on everyone’s mind. “I mean, who lines up a bunch of single couches like this?”
“Strange, indeed,” Sera agreed. “They seem arranged as though for spectators, yet naught lies before them to behold.”
Like a movie theater, Henry thought. However, there weren’t any screens or holograms to watch. If there was a clue, it would probably be within the couches themselves.
Dr. Anderson approached one of the desks. “Perhaps this was some sort of office or workspace? The desks and cabinets certainly suggest that.”
Isaac then decided to touch one of the seats, eliciting no reaction. He pushed further, sitting down on one of them. At that point, the couch began to adjust its form to better suit Isaac’s envirosuit, as if able to optimize its comfort for the user. Then, a nozzle slowly stretched up from the seat’s headrest area, stopping just short of Isaac’s neck. “Woah!” Isaac bolted up as the nozzle bonked against his helmet.
“Neural interface, maybe?” Henry wondered. “I think we should leave this to the researchers… unless you wanna volunteer as a lab rat?”
“Hell nah,” Isaac vigorously declined the offer. “Hey, there isn’t anything on my helmet is there?”
Henry dusted off the back of Isaac’s helmet with his glove. “Nope, you’re clear. Just gotta hope it ain’t grey goo.”
He could see the dread and uncertainty through Isaac’s visor. Henry gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Well, think about it this way: if it really was grey goo, it would’ve gotten to us – or the Spiranids, for that matter – long ago. C’mon, let’s secure the next room.”
With a nod, Isaac fell in line behind Henry as they moved towards the doorway leading to the adjacent room. Peeking inside, it couldn’t be further from the rest of the room’s they had encountered so far; not at all what they could’ve possibly expected inside an ancient, high-tech alien facility. It was expansive, with a layout that reminded Henry of a high-end restaurant. Comfortable booths lined the walls, while tables of varying sizes filled the central space. The furniture looked almost human – perhaps even indistinguishably so.
The room was tinted with a soft, cozy yellow light. The warm and inviting ambiance felt soothing compared to the clinical feel of the previous areas. The lighting, combined with the plush booths and elegant tables, gave Henry a nostalgic impression.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Ryan remarked. “Think they got any cheesecakes?”
If it wasn’t for the alien decor and helping of sleek devices scattered around the room, Henry would’ve thought they were back home. Hell, there was even a bar, filled with exotic liquors that could probably fetch millions at an auction – or give them the trip of their lives. Beside it however was something unusual. Where he might’ve expected a path leading to the kitchen, he instead found a wall with a slight, rectangular-shaped recess that was just big enough for a tray.
He glanced at Isaac, who returned a knowing look. “Replicators,” Isaac said.
Henry smirked. “Personally, I’m partial to synthesizer, but to each their own.”
They gathered around the wall, which didn’t seem to respond to their presence. Taps on the wall didn’t seem to do anything, either. Henry considered probing further, but decided against it. “Alright, let’s not take any chances. We’ll make a note of this for the research teams to analyze later. Let’s keep looking around.”
Henry split apart from the others, pairing with Ron as they continued to walk around the room. They soon came across another doorway on the far side of the room, which opened up into a short corridor that led into multiple sets of doors. Each had a symbol on the wall beside the doors – one that depicted the basic figure of a person.
Ron pushed open one of the doors, taking a peek inside. “Looks like even the Gatebuilders needed restrooms.”
Finally! “Alright, let’s take a quick break here. Bring everyone else over.”
Thankfully, the amenities within were easily comparable to those of modern society. The toilet looked like a toilet, and the sink resembled a sink. Even in a space as mundane as this though, the Gatebuilder’s technology was evident: self-cleaning surfaces and enough technology to put a high-quality Japanese bidet toilet to shame. At least, that was just from the look of things. Henry didn’t think now would be the best time to check whether the restroom had ass-washing robots or not.
After a few minutes, Henry regrouped with the rest of the team around a central table in the ‘restaurant’. Dr. Anderson was already present, his archaeological kit opened and a spread of alien items organized on the table.
“Ah, Captain!” Dr. Anderson noticed him approaching. “We found cabinets that weren’t empty. Most of the artifacts appear to be personal effects.” He held up a necklace, emphasizing his point. “Jewelry, memorabilia, and some other artifacts that I – admittedly – can’t quite describe.”
Dr. Anderson pointed his pickup tool at a small disc laid out on a padded mat. “It hasn’t shown any active properties yet. It’s rather peculiar; it seems to be a solid disc. Lightweight, unblemished surface, no visible markings or etchings.”
“Have you tried touching it directly?” Henry asked.
Dr. Anderson frowned, manipulating the claws of his pickup tool. “Well, not directly.” Catching the implications in Henry’s query, he continued, “I’ve checked for radiation, toxins – all clear. While I’d advise against direct contact, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the least bit curious.”
Henry nodded. Yeah, the Doc was probably right, but what was discovery without risk? He reached out and picked it up, rotating it in his hands. As his gloved fingers brushed against the surface, the disc suddenly emitted a soft glow.
Henry flinched slightly, almost dropping the disc in surprised. As he fumbled with it, the disc seemed to respond to his touch. Suddenly, a series of objects materialized on the table, appearing out of thin air.
“Oh, shit!” Ron exclaimed. “It just… spawned a bunch of stuff!”
Henry stared at the new items. Several containers, probably holding some kind of food, were still sealed tight and impossibly effective at insulating its contents. It was crazy to think that the food inside might still be hot after who knows how long.
Next to the containers was a bracelet. Possibly normal, possibly enchanted or integrated with technology they couldn’t hope to understand. There was also a bottle of some bright blue liquid – probably for drinking, but there was no way to be sure until Perdue tested it. And then there was the picture, showing a strikingly human couple, holding each other underneath a gorgeous alien sky. It reminded him of memorabilia people would sometimes keep in their wallets, though why humans were there was a mystery.
The last object the disc spat out was a thin, transparent sheet. Coincidentally, it was about the same size as a smartphone. If he had to guess, it probably had the same function as one, too.
“Incredible,” Dr. Anderson gawked at the items. “The disc must be the Gatebuilders’ version of a wallet, somehow using dimensional storage technology!”
“Akin to the Holding Bags,” Kelmithus noticed. He peered into his own Holding Bag, his expression indicating that he was connecting the dots. “Fascinating!”
Dr. Anderson then inspected the image, his face reflecting the same confusion Henry felt when he first saw it. While they continued to sort through the items, Henry explored the sheet further. The moment he tapped the screen, a holographic interface sprung into existence above it.
What he had initially thought was a simple hologram was something far more advanced, almost indistinguishable from reality itself. Almost instantly, they were surrounded by mountains and valleys, details springing up to form a realistic, three-dimensional map.
It was like a pocket holodeck. The only anchors the projection had were the various icons and pockets of text floating around – and the fact that the hologram was transparent enough for him to see his surroundings and his teammates.
Sera seemed to be the most shocked out of all of them. He couldn’t blame her. The sight was surprising enough for himself, who was even familiar with the concept through sci-fi; how much more alien would it seem to someone from – effectively – the past?
“I’ve not beheld such a spell… ever!” she exclaimed softly, pausing to gather her thoughts. “Hold on…” she continued, pointing to the distant peaks. “Why, yon mountain range! Does it not strike you as familiar?”
“Huh?” Ron squinted at it. “Does it?”
“No, yeah, it does!” Isaac said. “Shit, uh, is that the Ovinne Mountain Range?”
Henry brought up the file for the Ovinne Mountain Range on his visor, comparing it to the hologram. “Huh, yeah, it is. What’s a map of that doing in here, though?”
Dr. Anderson raised his hands in the air and spread them apart, mimicking a zoom. Lucky for them, the alien tech seemed to understand what they were going for. Now up close and in full detail, the Ovinne Mountain Range dominated the room. Somewhere in the mountains, an icon that looked like a pair of glasses sat right on top of a Gatebuilder tower, barely poking out of the mountainside.
Ryan crossed his arms as he scrutinized the hologram. “Is this what, Find My iPhone?”
“Hmm… rather likely,” Dr. Anderson agreed. “This device must be some sort of Locator.”
“Locator, huh?” Having this clue was an incredible breakthrough, but he noticed something else. “And right where the Ovinne Mountain Campaign’s supposedly taking place, at that.”
“Indeed, that you mention it, such alignment is surely noteworthy,” Kelmithus remarked. His voice took on a more excited note, “Be it fate, perhaps?”
Henry smirked. “Hah, you’re sounding a bit like Sera, now. Well, looks like fate’s telling us where to go next. Let’s pack this up and head back.”
They carefully stowed the various artifacts in their holding bags, Henry holding on to the Locator. They made their way back to the locker room where they first entered, everyone excited for the next step in their mission.
Henry stepped through the airlock first, emerging on the other side. As he did so, a faint sound caught his attention. It was distant, muffled, but definitely not a sound that belonged to this facility. He wanted to take off the envirosuit, but it seemed that had to wait.
Ron came through the airlock after him. “Bro, you think –”
Henry held up a hand, stopping him short. He raised his weapon, picking up on the ‘something’s not right’ vibe.
Activating his infrared vision and using the laser mounted on his M7, Henry searched for signs of thermal distortions, just like he’d done back at Duke Vancor’s mansion. Ron did the same. As the rest of the team emerged from the airlock, they quickly caught on to the situation. Without a word, they joined them in securing the room.
After clearing the locker room, Henry signaled to move on to the lab next door. It was just as empty as the locker room, but now the sounds were more audible, definitely coming from the hallway just outside. Instructing his team to hold still, he crept toward the doorway to investigate.
He peeked around the corner, and felt his stomach drop. There, in the main hallway, was a group of soldiers. They were decked out in distinctive black armor and cloaks. They had no identifiable markings or insignia on their armor, but it was obvious – these were Nobians.
Henry pulled back, returning to his team. “Contact outside. At least a dozen Nobians securing the hallway.”
Ron’s expression grew serious. “Shit. Any idea on their entry point?”
Henry positioned himself behind a desk, aiming his weapon at the doorway. “Probably the same way we came in.”
“Main corridor’s the only play, huh?” Ryan said.
The main hallway only had one line of sight, and it just happened to be the only way out. Well, the only one they could reasonably access. The facility probably had other exits or fancy teleporters, but they’d already scoured the area for the former and wouldn’t be able to figure out the latter.
“Dozen hostiles doesn’t seem like a lot,” Isaac pointed out, taking out another Black Hornet from his bag. “We’re still good on ammo, too.”
Ron shook his head. “Dozen? Yeah, a dozen that we can see.”
“Owens is right,” Henry agreed. “We can’t confirm their numbers outright. If I had to guess, it would probably be at least fifty. Manageable, but I’d prefer that to be our last resort.”
“How might we fare with a disturbance?” Sera offered.
Kelmithus gripped his staff. “I might conjure an echo of noise distant hence. It shan’t last, but it can afford us enough time for our escape.”
Kelmithus’ plan seemed like it could work, but only if the Nobians didn’t know they were here. “No,” Henry disagreed. “They’ve seen our MRAPs outside. We’d get surrounded.”
“How about negotiation?” Dr. Anderson suggested, a hopeful note in his voice.
“Negotiation? With the Nobians?” Kelmithus questioned.
They all knew what the Nobians were like. It really did come off as a ridiculous idea, but what if Dr. Anderson was right? The archaeologist defended himself, “I know, I know. However, we have yet to confirm their hostility, and it would not serve us well to initiate hostilities with the Nobians.”
Taking in the silence as contemplation, he continued, “If talks break down, we hold our ground here. It’s not ideal, but we’ll control the engagement area and prevent them from flanking us.”
Henry reviewed the situation again. 12 hostiles, but they should expect the worse, so at least 50 hostiles plus failed negotiations. Holding the only way out, they were likely spread out between the hallway, the cave system, and possibly even the forest outside. Dr. Anderson’s plan was solid, but he had a few minor qualms. In particular, holding the line meant possibly exhausting themselves in a battle of attrition.
“Alright. We’ll open with negotiations. I’m skeptical, but it's worth a shot. Should that fail, we can’t engage in a drawn-out conflict. We’ll disrupt their positions and quickly move to the cave outside.”
“Smoke grenades and flashbangs,” Ryan muttered.
“Affirmative,” Henry said, nodding in agreement. “If we can’t see them, we’ll level the playing field so they can’t see us.”
“Captain,” Kelmithus quickly interjected, “Bid me aid your efforts. I’ve insight enough to create fog. I’ve learned from our encounter with the Sentinel Lindwyrm.”
“You can replicate that heavy fog?” Ron asked.
Kelmithus held up his palm, producing an opaque puff of steam to prove his point. “Indeed so, Lieutenant. Adequately do these envirosuits shield us, that I might harness more extreme temperatures for more effective casting.”
Henry was impressed with how quickly the archmage grasped such a concept. “Good. Yen, get that drone into the cave. We’ll hold for updates.”
Yen nodded, carrying out Henry’s order silently. The drone’s feed directly streamed to their HUDs, and after a few minutes, Isaac looked up. “Done.”
Henry analyzed the data. They had visual confirmation of a dozen Nobians inside the facility itself and a staggering forty outside, both in the cave and around the cave entrance. It was an assumption, but there probably weren’t many cloaked soldiers past the hallway. He sighed; the worst-case scenario would have them facing a hundred men in total.
It was a challenge, but the drone’s intel granted them a critical tactical advantage. He analyzed his minimap, selecting and sharing a route with minimal enemy contact. “After clearing the facility’s entrance, we’ll proceed along the designated path. Upon exit, I’ll deploy a flare to signal our movement to the MRAPs for extraction. We will then rendezvous with Zulu-9 and coordinate with air support before re-engaging to secure the site.”
His team nodded, fully on board with the plan. He took a deep breath to steel himself before checking his watch – 16:24. “Alright, time to show ourselves.”
Letting his M7 sling over his chest, Henry prepared two flash grenades – one in each hand – before stepping out. With his team in tow, he moved to the center of the hallway, catching the attention of one of the Nobian patrols.
“Attention, Nobian forces! We request parley. I am Captain Donnager of Alpha Team, Tier 6 Adventurer. We are on an official quest sanctioned by the Adventurer’s Guild. We have no intention of hostilities and seek to discuss our presence and objectives to ensure mutual understanding.”
As Henry’s words echoed through the hallway, the Nobian soldiers snapped into action. He heard the sounds of bowstring being drawn taut and the rasp of metal as swords cleared their scabbards. His hands tightened around the flash grenades.
He kept his gaze steady, projecting a sense of calm; of confidence – enough to convince the Nobians that even outnumbered, he and his team were still no match for them. More soldiers joined the patrol, until all twelve of the previously identified Nobians were upon them. They kept their distance, but Henry could feel the tension boiling.
Just as the standoff seemed to reach a critical point, the air in front of them seemed to fold outward from itself, like watching the effects of gravitational lensing on light. A figure coalesced from the distortion – so this is what invisibility magic looked like.
The man was broad-shouldered and tall, seeing eye-to-eye with him, even despite the extra inches in height the envirosuit gave. As the last wisps of the cloaking magic faded away, Henry found himself staring into a pair of piercing gray eyes that seemed to bore into his very soul.
The newcomer had an angular face and was clad in black armor with a different sheen than the black armor of his comrades. Silver trimmings and an insignia emblazoned on his chestplate – a dagger through a swirl of mist – differentiated his status. A cloak of the same dark hue billowed behind him as he walked forward and drew his sword.
Keeping his sword to the side, he stopped a respectable ten meters away from Henry. “I am Carvus Alnect Virelius, Umber Vicearch of the Order of the Shadow.” He then pointed his sword at Henry, declaring, “Of desecrating sovereign Nobian territory, you stand accused.”
As Carvus spoke, more soldiers materialized alongside him, shimmering into existence as they dropped their cloaking spells. Henry had expected this to happen, but seeing it play out still sent a chill down his spine. How many more were still lying in wait?
The Vicearch kept his weapon on Henry, eyes narrowing. “Commander unto commander, I offer a choice: cede your Holding Bags, that secure passage may be granted unto you. Refuse, and you shall be declared as spies and enemies of the Nobian Empire, your lives forfeit to swift execution.”
READ 2 WEEKS AHEAD: Season Finale Chapter 17 is now available for Tier 2 Manifest Fantasy Patrons and higher!
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I live with my partner and his parents and have for the past 5 years. (this is for financial reasons only) Towards the beginning of our relationship I had no problems with his mom. I had heard one of his sisters say that she talked sh** about me and would call me names such as white trash and I kind of just glossed over it as its he said she said, but I definitely believed it. Over time I would hear more things, whether I overheard straight from her mouth talking to my partner or someone else telling me (mostly my partner if she said something to him while I wasn't around)
On Easter Sunday this year she came home and started yelling at me in the middle of the street and waving her hands/fingers in my face whilst doing so. She was going off on me saying her issues with me are me using the bathroom and doing laundry. (LMAO Crazy. I know.) She told me I wasn't apart of the family that I have been very much apart of for the past 5 and a half years and kept going as we went in the house to complain about more. I felt attacked so I started crying and was just kind of like what is your problem and my partner separated me from her and we left.
She took no accountability for the situation moving forward and gave the most fake least effort apology in the world. I have a saying that I like that goes "the apology should be as loud as the disrespect." She glossed over it, somehow blamed it on his father and then proceeded to ask me to buy her a birthday cake all in the same conversation.
A few weeks go by and now Mother's day is coming up. My aunt had texted me for plans previously and I had expressed that to my partner. His mom approached me one morning and asked if we had plans and I told her we were going to a brunch my aunt planned and her response was "we can do something on Saturday then," only after she said "What about me?". Let me just say we have spent EVERY holiday with them for 5 1/2 years so I don't think its wrong if my partner spends some time with mine?
One day she doesn't think I am home and is talking to my partner about mothers day and he responded that he has plans with me and my family. Her response was to tell him not to go and that I can go see my mom and he can spend time with his. At that point I opened my door and said to her " I told you the other day that we had plans with my family, the fact that you just went behind my back and tell him not to go is really rude. She proceeded to look at me like I had 5 heads and called ME disrespectful. I told her that what she did was wrong and honestly hurt my feelings because why would she do something like that like why can't she just say okay have fun with your girlfriends family, like there is just no maturity at all and the sense of entitlement is crazy.
That confrontation turned into a fight where she was shhing me and telling me to shut up. She told me I will never cut the umbilical cord from her and her son and I can never take away a mothers relationship with her son? Like really crazy sh** and I'm just sitting there thinking like how does her brain even work like why does she think like this and act like this. She even went as far to say to me "You don't have a ring on your finger." Which I replied " I don't need a ring to have respect."
Needless to say we haven't spoked since but live in the same house and I feel very weird and uncomfortable. She hasn't said a word to me and I have been purposefully avoiding her as I don't want to be in the same vicinity as her. Over the past half a decade there were definitely a lot of situations where I wanted to speak up and didn't for fear of conflict. I love my partner more than anything in this world, I just cant see me bringing my future kids around this kind of stuff let alone me even wanting to deal with this on my own right now. I don't think he wants to either but I don't really know what to do and could really use some advice on this situation.
Thank you for your time <3

Hi,
Photo : https://imgur.com/a/pK5Hc94
In past few months I found that my left side of my face is more tender and then I palpated a small pea/been sized tube like mass under my Zygomatic bone. I had scheduled dentist appointment for like 2 moths and today he looked at me. I have papilla visible on the left side too and I had left side cavity with left side Gingivitis in upper and lower tooths.
By normal palpation ( relaxed, closed mouth ), it is not noticeable ( maybe a little ) but when I take my index and middle finger and point them straight under Zygomatic bone, and use my nail to move up and down, I feel it and it is like straw that is bigger on the side of parotid and then narrowing and going straight to papilla. It is visible when I open my mouth and strongly flex masseter muscle ( also more easily palatable ).
When I tried to measure it, it is maybe around 1.8cm long ( X ) and 5-6mm wide ( Y ) and maybe 3mm thick ( Z )?
Firstly doctor didn't saw anything but then told me that it looks like my left side is little swollen and it is maybe a stone, that those are common. He also look on it 3 times, 2 in laying position and one in standing position. He palpated it on the skin and also from the inside the mouth. He also looked at my papilla and were performing some salivary flow tests.
His final words were: Stenson duct papilla enlarged suspect from trauma ( bites ) with dilatated duct and small left side swelling. He told me to not worry about and that he will check it in 3 moths during next visit. He just fixed my left side cavity and told me try eat sour sweets to increase salivary production.
I asked if there is need to maybe to go to ultrasound and he told me that it is not needed.
I just want to be sure, should I go and try to find another opinion from other dentist or maybe schedule ENT? He was more focusing on fixing cavity that on my gland. I am scared it can be cancer and let it be there for at least 3 more months will not do any good. Just to mention, when I massage it , I feel flow of saliva and sometimes it is better for few days, also I don't think it is increasing or decreasing in size during past months ( 2-3 ). When I check statistics, where is about 6 : 100 000 chance of cancer and 1:100 000 chance of stone forming.
Thank you!

You know the first rule of abandoned buildings: “no graffiti, run.” So in my story there were graffiti, but they indicated danger. I was 15 years old. I often climbed through various abandoned places. My friend and I wanted to explore an abandoned place on the outskirts of the city. We stocked up on a knife, flashlights, light bulbs and necessary first aid items. We agreed to meet at 21.30. After all, it’s scarier and more interesting at night. We met and a friend said, “You can wait for my friends,” I didn’t mind. We waited. They were gone for about an hour. But they still came. I was the first to enter the abandoned building. I saw a symbol with an asterisk in a circle and an inverted cross. We didn't know what it meant. I saw a note on the floor, I took it to read and it said “Invoco te, deum meum, satanam meam. Immolabo tibi coetus populorum.” . But we didn’t plan to retreat. We looked at our feet. After all, in an abandoned place there are always syringes, fittings and sharp knives lying around. We went up to the third floor. We smelled rot. We put on our masks and explored. In the middle of the corridor we saw a light. There were people in red cloaks. They spoke in an incomprehensible language. And there we saw a tied up man, he tried to scream, to get out, but his attempts were to no avail. The strange people stopped saying something and one took a knife and stabbed the man to death. After that they began to disperse and one saw us. He shouted “Witnesses catch them” we started running as fast as we could, we were very scared. Most got out, but one slipped under on the way out and was grabbed. We couldn't save him. Everyone went home. And the next day our friend was declared missing. Since then I have a note that I picked up from an abandoned place.

Hi all,
I am asking for your invaluable advice as I am quite confused about writing a query letter. I have finished my first novel and am focusing on getting my query letter right. I hope I have managed somehow.
Dear [Agent’s Name],
I’m attaching the [number of chaptesynopsis] of my debut fantasy novel, THE LOST CAUSE, which is complete at 110.000 words. The story follows the journey of Eon, a time traveler who has sacrificed his memories in order to travel into the past and save his ruined world. I would position the novel alongside those such as THE EYE OF THE WORLD by Robert Jordan or THE BLADE ITSELF by Joe Abercrombie.
Eon stares at the unfamiliar and scarred face of a middle-aged man and must accept that this is his reflection. Lost in a forest where the light barely seeps through its guardian trees, Eon wanders with the fleeting memories of his past life. He knows he has lost all but one purpose: to survive long enough to reclaim his past. In the depths of the dark forest, Eon strikes a bargain with three siblings who travel the world to study magic, accepting their protection as he travels through the forest. With the siblings’ help, Eon discovers that his memories won’t be restored with time, but have been lost due to his own experiments with magic, and may never return unless he acts decisively.
Rius, the older of the siblings and a wizard, recognizes Eon’ potential for magic and decides to further his own research in exchange for his support. Together they further Eon’s understanding of magic and his condition, but nothing is as innocent as it seems. Eon discovers that Rius is part of a cult that studies the connection between magic and the afterlife and decides to use him to gain their assistance. Rius presents Eon as an irreplaceable aid to their cause, but Eon gradually realizes that he is merely another pawn in the Cult’s plans to explore the afterlife.
Torn between the Cult’s designs and his own pursuit of the past, Eon must decide where his friends and enemies lie in a world that is hostile to those who would defile its order: and both Eon and the Cult are at the top of the list.
I hold two Bachelor’s degrees in History and Social Anthropology, as well as a Master’s degree in European History. My work focuses on academic papers, but this is my first novel proposal that I would like to share with you. I am passionate about creating a unique fantasy setting that draws inspiration from medieval Europe and incorporates it with high morals. I would be delighted to have the opportunity to work with you on my novel if you are interested. I envisage this as part of a trilogy, and I have completed a draft of the second book, about Eon’s struggles in the Chimaera civil war. Eon learns that Rae may be the key to great power, but it leads to an even greater downfall.
I hope you enjoy the extract and I am looking forward to hearing from you in due course.
Sincerely,
[About 250 words of the prologue if anyone wants to give it a read. Nonetheless, thank you for your time]
‘Is this the end?’ I shouted, my words lost in the icy wind. My fingers trembled at the thought of what would come next. There was nothing to look forward to. The darkness of the night concealed my tracks and the snow blocked my path. My strength was drained, but curiosity fuelled every step driving me to follow this strange road. I had no memory of my destination. I had travelled a long way, from the warm seas of the south towards the icy peaks of the north. Here, I had found my purpose… only to lose it completely. My fingertips twitched, gripping flesh and cloth alike. My pupils wandered from my path, watching my fingertips and their impatient dance. I was exhausted, yearning to sleep, yet I had to stay awake; I was lost, yet on my way. That had to mean something.
I caught my breath and allowed myself a fleeting moment of peace, seeking refuge from the storm’s wrath. The snowfall wouldn’t let me see through. I struggled to move forward, to emerge from the snow-covered ground. A tiny step in a long journey indeed. The pouch I was carrying felt weightless, like another snowflake on my black cloak. I tied it tightly to my right side. A lingering thought demanded that I keep it intact. There was my hope.
Slowly but surely. My journey will come together. I have to hold on to myself. I gritted my teeth and forced my way through.

I work in a clinic cafe as a cashier but since February my mental health has taken a nose dive of the nearest cliff. I used to take lunch at 11 which was my 30 minute break in the middle of my shift but they gave that to the new guy and now my lunch is 1 pm. That wouldn’t be so bad but before my coworker would come and give me a people break where I’d go and stock the coolers but now I’m out with people 90% of my shift and I’m just so close to either going to punch someone in the face or have a mental breakdown in the middle of the cafe. I can’t just get up and take a break because there is literally nobody to watch the register. I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last. I make 15.50 and this is THE only place that pays well and it took them 3 months to hire me. The HR is NOTORIOUS for being slow. I’m currently taking Phlebotomy and (yes I know it’s just as bad people wise but it’s only a stepping stone) a CNA course so that if I take a program that’s mid day I can still have a home and not be homeless (I also have 3 furbabies at home to feed)
Also I want to add that we are THE cheapest place you can get food and visitors always rave at how cheap and good the food is. Meanwhile the people who work in the clinic complain about the price like our EIGHTY FIVE (85) CENT bread. Or like today someone got 2 bagel toppers ($2 each) and 4 bacon ($1 each) and when brought out the menu either the price after she complained she she I’m not gonna argue with her. IF YOU DONT WANNA ARGUE THEN DONT DYARY NOTHIN!! I’m sick and tired of them but I have bills and classes to pay for.
Edit: it was supposed to say the the worker said I’m not gonna argue with you. These gloves make me fat finger this keyboard

Part 14.3

Heracles VS Lernaean Hydra

Author Note: I was thinking about it and I really wish that GT9 used more draconic symbolism throughout the story when (or if) I revisit Team Crowley VS Rosencreutz I'll have symbolism of Aleister (TheBeast666), Aiwass (Codename: DRAGON) and Coronzon (The Dragon of the Abyss) all have symbology of them being Dragons preying on a God/Hero like CRC and the reversed conflict of Chaos VS Order you see in mythology, I also wanted to achieve something similar with Kakine Teitoku as he can represent the Fallen Angel and the Seraphim but for now I'll try adding draconian symbolism into Gunha VS CRC.
True Expert Christian Rosencreutz, with his golden rosy cross sword, clashed relentlessly against the indomitable force of the Strongest Gemstone, Sogiita Gunha. With each clash of their powers, the air crackled and compressed, and the pavement trembled beneath.
CRC, observed Sogiita with a mixture of intrigue and disdain. "You fight like the legendary Heracles," he remarked, his voice carrying over the din of battle. "But know this, I am the Lernaean Hydra, and no matter how many heads you sever, I shall always rise again!" Rosencreutz roared to slice the #7’s midsection.
Sogiita, his entire body wreathed in unknowable energy, met CRC's blade unyielding. "Bring it on, old man!" he retorted, his voice brimming with confidence. "I'll knock you down as many times as it takes! I won't stop till you come to your senses and remember your roots, like the roses you love so much, Rosencreutz!!"
Their clash intensified, that old man’s higher dimensional sword colliding with the raw power of that boy’s fists and kicks as they pushed each other to their limits with each sword swing, punch, kick and flash.
Sogiita unleashed a barrage of punches, each strike carrying the force of a meteor, while that silver young man countered: he wielded his sword in his right hand and released impacts followed by white light that was enough to previously take down all of The Bridge Builders Cabal.
As the battle raged on, the very fabric of reality seemed to warp and shift around them, bearing witness to the titanic struggle between two unparalleled forces.
The founder of Rosicrucianism who intimidated reality itself to obey his will and that Gemstone with an unstable personal reality that could change on a whim.
The atmosphere crackled with electrifying distortion.
Sogiita's fists tore through the air with the ferocity of meteors, their velocity enhanced by his ability to adapt and accelerate, surpassing even CRC's speed. As each blow was released, the friction with the surrounding air molecules ignited a scorching heat, intensifying the impact.
The rapid movement of molecules generated an escalating thermal energy, causing the air to seethe with increasing temperature. It was akin to a tempest of incandescent projectiles hurtling towards CRC, their speed surpassing the limits of human perception.
It was like a storm of brilliant fiery arrows was fired at Rosencreutz.
These blazing arrows of force were reminiscent of the elusive strikes employed by the Rose & Cross Leader, ignoring distance with deceptive agility.
With each thunderous punch, that bandana boy sought to overpower his adversary through sheer kinetic force, his unwavering resolve palpable in every motion.
But that wasn't enough for this superhuman.
CRC, wielding his cross sword with precision and skill, deflected each and every one Sogiita's flaming arrows with calculated strikes of his own. Each impact unleashed a burst of blinding white light, sending shockwaves rippling through the chaotic city.
"You think brute strength alone will defeat me?" the silver man taunted, his voice cutting through the chaos of battle. "You may be strong, but strength without strategy is nothing but raw power wasted."
Sogiita grinned, his confidence unshaken. "Strategies for cowards who can't handle a real fight," he retorted, his voice ringing with defiance. "I'll K.O. you with my fists and guts alone!!!!"
Rosencreutz's eyes narrowed as he parried another of Sogiita's punches. "Your arrogance will be your downfall," he warned, his tone tinged with certainty. "I may not match your overall speed, but I have something you lack: intellect and precision.”
Christian Rosencreutz then plunged his cross sword into the ground.
"This is what harmed Kamijou Touma," he declared, grinning and unleashing a torrent of lethal invisible attacks from his outstretched palms.
However, the #7 countered with a relentless barrage of flaming arrows from the thermal aftershock of his punches.
Each strike akin to a particle accelerator in its intensity and speed. That Gemstone was the particles being fired on the right and that True Expert was the particles fired on the left.
As the attacks clashed, the battlefield became a spectacle of raw power and precision.
“Roar!” CRC held his open palm to his mouth and blew gently on the tip of the middle finger.
That was all it took for a blaze easily outdoing a flamethrower to rush out. And this was not just any fire. It fed on the power of a ley line and stole vitality from space itself. This overwhelming mass of light and heat was wielded for no other purpose than to take lives. Anyone who tried to survive it using simple composite armor or special fibers would dry up and burn away in less than a second.
But that wouldn't kill another superhuman would it?
Of course not.
“Aaaaarghhhh!!!!” screamed the #7.
Some assaults bypassed the fray entirely, slipping through the chaos like elusive particles in a collider.
A smokescreen.
Those brilliant fireworks from hell weren't meant to take Sogiita’s life. They were meant to disrupt the Gemstone's senses and sight so he couldn't counter all of that old man’s deadly attacks.
Invisible strikes found their mark on that Gemstone, and the searing arrows of the arrows scorched Rosencreutz.
CRC was wounded but he rejected to make any whimpers. Instead with a sudden burst of velocity, the young silver man picked up his cross sword from the ground and launched a flurry of strikes, cutting at the #7’s body with pinpoint accuracy.
His arms, his head, his face, his stomach, his legs, his midsection, his back.
Each blow landed with devastating force, causing Sogiita to stagger back under the onslaught.
If that bandana boy hadn't had his defenses and general stats raised by the #5 he’d be cut to pieces.
The #7 fell on his back.
"There's a fire," Sogiita declared, his voice ringing out amidst the chaos of battle.
With each attempt to break his spirit, Sogiita's resolve only grew stronger, fueling the flames of his determination. "Every time someone tries to make me give up, it's like wind feeding my flames, making them burn even brighter just like my punches," he explained, his words carrying the weight of his unwavering determination.
He refused to stay down.
With a roar of defiance, Sogiita surged forward once more, his movements blurring with speed as he disappeared from view. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind Christian Rosencreutz, catching the magician off guard.
"Hey, old man," Sogiita taunted, his voice filled with confidence as he seized Rosencreutz from behind.
Christian Rosencreutz's eyes widened in surprise as he realized he had been outmaneuvered.
As Sogiita Gunha faced off against Christian Rosencreutz in their airborne duel, he felt the flames of determination burning within him, driving him forward with unstoppable force.
Before he could react, the boy lifted him effortlessly and slammed him onto the pavement below with a resounding thud.
"I'm not just a kick-boxer!!" Sogiita sang.
As the impact reverberated through the air, the young silver man let out a pained cry. The force of the collision compressed the surrounding air, heating it up until it crackled with energy. Christian Rosencreutz's head struck the ground with a velocity equivalent to mach 20, igniting his body in flames upon impact.
This move is called a suplex.
Struggling to regain his bearings, Rosencreutz muttered in a daze, "The House of the Holy Spirit...the seven walls..."
"You said it yourself, didn't you?" the gutsy boy retorted, cocky. "My power and my guts can break through your impenetrable walls. And I can spread those same guts to the world around me."
With a grimace, Christian Rosencreutz acknowledged the truth of the boy's words. "Your uncontrolled AIM field grants you the ability to imbue non-organic objects with the properties of your virus," he observed, his voice tinged with begrudging admiration. "Allowing them to bypass even the defenses of the seven-walled tomb.”
"A virus? Don't be so gutless, CRC," the #7 retorted, his voice filled with defiance. "This battleground ruled by wills is a two-way road between you and me."
Christian Rosencreutz raised an eyebrow at the boy's words. "Hey Gemstone, you could've killed me if I weren't a superhuman with an idealized body that accomplished The Great Work and crossed the Ungrund, what then short-stack?" he questioned while fitting an insult against his height.
Even without the seven-walled tomb or sheets of diamonds Rosencreutz was cartoonishly durable.
"Sorry, old man," Sogiita replied, his tone tinged with annoyance. "I might've gotten carried away, but I know it'll take more than that to kill you. No matter how many heads you regrow, like Hydra, I will not give up until I've completed all my labors."
"Mhm, so you do know your mythology," CRC remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "The Lernaean Hydra, or simply Hydra, is a serpentine lake monster in Greek and Roman mythology. Its lair was the lake of Lerna in the Argolid, known as an entrance to the Underworld. In the canonical myth, the monster is slain by Heracles as part of his Twelve Labors."
"Yeah, I know," Sogiita replied confidently. "I studied the tales of great gutsy heroes in school.”
"So, short-stack," Christian Rosencreutz began, his voice carrying a hint of scholarly interest. “Have you ever considered the parallels between our battle and ancient Near Eastern religions?”
Sogiita listened intently. "Are you saying you see yourself as a god of war or a hunter?" he inquired.
CRC chuckled softly. "In a sense, indeed. We are both assuming roles in this grand theater, are we not? I, the Hydra, and you, Heracles."
He continued, "Consider the Second Labor of Heracles. Eurystheus, the king of Tiryns, sent Heracles to slay the Hydra, which Hera had raised specifically to defeat him. Heracles approached the swamp near Lake Lerna, where the Hydra dwelled. To protect himself from the poisonous fumes, he covered his mouth and nose with a cloth and shot flaming arrows into the Hydra's lair, causing it to emerge and terrorize the surrounding villages."
CRC paused, drawing a comparison. “In our own clash, the flaming arrows that Heracles hurled at the Hydra find their echo in your lightning-fast fists, generating shockwaves that ignite the air with their speed and force. It's as though each strike of yours is akin to shooting a flaming arrow, much like Heracles did.”
“Huh? Are you suggesting we're caught in a time loop? That some enigmatic group, like the Bridge Builders Cabal, manipulated events to resurrect you, pitting us against each other in a timeless struggle? I've never met them, and I'm certainly no child of Zeus. Are you implying that our battle will be distorted into a Greek legend by a meddling time traveler?!” frantically asked the boy.
“No, no, you simpleton. This world contains synchronicities. In Sumerian, Babylonian, and Assyrian mythology, the war and hunting god Ninurta was celebrated for his deeds. The Angim credited him with slaying eleven monsters during an expedition to the mountains, including a seven-headed serpent, possibly identical to the Mushmahhu, and Bashmu, whose constellation was later associated with the Hydra by the Greeks. In Babylonian contexts, the Hydra's constellation is also linked to Marduk's dragon, the Mushhushshu.”
“Uhhh….” That shounen boy was dumbfounded.
"Hhm, I suppose calling it a time loop isn't technically wrong," Christian Rosencreutz began, his tone measured. "I'll break it down from history class and reconstruct it through the lens of the occult. Historic recurrence, young Gemstone, is the phenomenon of events echoing throughout time. Whether it's the rise and fall of empires or the repetitive cycles within a single society, it's all part of this grand plan that was decided when Adam ate the forbidden fruit."
The #7 with his guard up but curious listened: "So, history just keeps repeating itself? Just a series of coincidences?"
Christian Rosencreutz shook his head sagely. "There is no such thing as coincidences. Take, for instance, the Doctrine of Eternal Recurrence, pondered upon by thinkers like Heinrich Heine and Friedrich Nietzsche. While it's said that 'history repeats itself,' it's not quite that simple. Rather, these recurrences stem from identifiable circumstances and chains of causality."
He continued, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of philosophical debate. "Consider the phenomenon of multiple independent discoveries in science or the reproducible findings in natural and social sciences. These recurrences, whether in the form of rigorous experimentation or comparative research, are vital to our understanding of the world."
Christian Rosencreutz paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. "G.W. Trompf, in his seminal work, The Idea of Historical Recurrence in Western Thought, illustrates the recurring patterns of political thought and behavior since ancient times. Through these patterns, history offers us invaluable lessons, often leading to a sense of resonance or déjà vu."
Their words reverberated like a challenge to destiny itself, a testament to their unyielding determination in the face of adversity.
That Gemstone didn't surrender his characteristic fervor. "History echoing through time, huh? It's like the universe itself is stuck on repeat, and we're just caught in the cycle. But you know what? If history's gonna keep looping, then let's break the pattern! Let's smash through those chains of causality and forge our own path. Who cares about déjà vu? We'll create something entirely new, something that'll shake the very foundations of this world and we’ll do it with guts!!!" He defied that silver monster.
But Rosencreutz wasn't finished. He pulled out his Crystal World Map.
The supposedly old man listened intently to that boy's impassioned response, his expression inscrutable behind his clairvoyant card. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke.
“Gemstone, you speak of breaking free from the chains of repetition, of forging a new destiny against the backdrop of eternal return. It is a noble aspiration, indeed. However, consider this: eternal return is not merely a philosophical concept or a whimsical notion of fate. It is the very fabric of existence, woven into the nature of time itself.” He pressed his finger on the Miniature Garden and a 3D holographic projection flew out—
“In ancient times, the Stoics grappled with the idea, seeing in it both a sense of cosmic order and a challenge to individual agency. Augustine and others recoiled from its implications, fearing it as a negation of free will and salvation. And yet, Nietzsche, in his brilliance, dared to confront the concept anew, exploring its depths in the crucible of human consciousness.”
Didn't Aleister Crowley say that he had to shatter every single phase in order to eliminate the concept of fate?
“I will shatter every last phase and put an end to all mysticism. It can be helped and we need not restrain our tears and bite our lip when faced with tragedy. I will bring back the pure world in which everyone can feel anger like normal and question it all like normal!!”
And didn't Coronzon appear to break down all the phases including the Pure World?
Partial destruction would be meaningless. If anything remains and an eternal distortion is born from that, then it will all happen again. I will eliminate the ten spheres, the twenty-two pathways, and the hidden eleventh symbol. Collisions between phases? Sparks and spray? You cannot save anyone if you only treat those symptoms. All of the fundamental clogs must be removed. All so we can pass the baton to whoever comes next.”
“Sparks and Sprays…” Rosencreutz muttered.
“Eh?” The #7 didn't quite hear him.
"Beside time stands fate, cruelty's steadfast herald. In the silent chambers of the soul, whispers the most profound wisdom. Humanity, in its folly, neglected to exalt life's splendor, its radiance, its grandeur. Truly, it is a rare gift to comprehend the forces that shape our existence.” That magician spoke in despair.
“From the moment man ate the fruit of knowledge, he guaranteed your species’ failure... Entrusting his future to the whims of fate, man clutches to a flickering hope. Yet, within the Miniature Garden lies the key to all revelation. Beyond the well-trodden path lies the ultimate terminus. It matters not who you are; Death is the sole certainty awaiting all.” he finished with scorn.
Shokuhou Misaki was currently linked to Sogiita Gunha so was overhearing the entire conversation.
“Are you okay, Leader?” asked Kamijou back at the hospital.
“Yeah…” she responded.
“Really?” Mikoto breathed a white sigh. “It wasn’t the shock of seeing their school destroyed. Nor was it the fear of having those rioters attack. …They’re afraid of their own power. And after learning how exactly to use that power to survive, they’re not sure they can just switch it off and return to their normal lives. So their gears have ground to a halt.” Tokiwadai Middle School was a prestigious esper development school.
The young ladies registered there were Level 3 at the lowest and Level 5 at the highest.
Almost all of the students had a power that surpassed that of a blade or handgun if used properly, but something had become twisted.
Yes.
“A lot of them weren’t really sure why they were training their powers.”
Shokuhou breathed a white breath, wrapped her own arms around herself, and rubbed her thighs together.
Why are you studying?
How many people could give a proper answer to that question? Because my parents told me to, because my teachers taught me to, because that’s how the world works. Those would be most people’s answers. Even the students with a clear vision of their future would only have something vague like “for the entrance exams” or “for my future”.
Only a small handful would have specific puzzle pieces in mind, such as “I need to learn how to use this equation so I can build a rocket”.
The young ladies of Tokiwadai Middle School were the same.
What if the very gears that humans have…their actions, reactions, inactions were all the result of some transcendental entity hovering above.
Like God or The Devil watching over humanity’s reality sphere and ordering around his system like everyone was a pre-programmed NPC that had specific events occur to them to get them to develop in the way that they did and determined their genetic bloodline that composed their psyche?
Is there truly a free will?
It was said that in order for you to break out of the system of society that the working class was stuck in you had to climb to the top where the corrupt elites resided.
Imagine Breaker negated sparks, Aleister Crowley could see through the veil thanks to Holy Guardian Angel Aiwass, Great Demon Coronzon could always see the cogs.
Christian Rosencreutz could view the entire world through his Miniature Garden.
The rest of humanity was at the mercy of their own destinies.
A Guardian Angel wouldn't arrive to save a parent’s child from fate every single time.
"Okay, nice poetry, can we get back to fighting already?" asked the #7 impatiently.
"Seems I got carried away," the old man conceded with a nod. "The synchronicities of this world, akin to the astral configurations in astrology, serve as an example of synchronicity, according to Jung. It describes circumstances that appear meaningfully related yet lack a causal connection, much like the parallel relationship between celestial and terrestrial phenomena. Synchronicity experiences entail subjective encounters where coincidences between events in one's mind and the external world may lack a clear causal link but still harbor an unknown connection.”
"Ah," Sogiita chimed in, recalling his philosophy class discussions. "We talked about synchronicity back then. Jung thought it was a good thing for the mind, but said it could get dicey in psychosis. He cooked up this theory as a kind of mental link between those meaningful coincidences, calling it a noncausal principle. This term came about in the late 1920s, and then he teamed up with physicist Wolfgang Pauli to dive deeper. Their work, The Interpretation of Nature and the Psyche, dropped in 1952. They were big on this idea that these connections, even the ones that don't seem to have a cause, could still teach us a lot about how our minds and the world work."
“Mhm, you know more than you lead on, Gemstone.” pondered CRC.
“Oh this? My teachers say I'm not good at remembering speeches hahaha…” The #7 looked slightly nervous. “You know, analytical psychologists really push for folks to get what these experiences mean to boost their awareness instead of just feeding into superstitions. But funny thing is, when clients spill about their synchronicity experiences, they often feel like no one's really hearing them out, or getting where they're coming from. And hey, having a bunch of these meaningful coincidences flying around can sometimes ring the schizo bell. Delusions aren't healthy.”
Where was this conversation going?
"Delusion! Hah! That's a good one coming from you," CRC fired back.
"The real delusion is thinking humanity isn't worth a damn," Sogiita shot back, pulling out some info from Johansen and Osman. "Some scientists think coincidences are just random flukes, but counselors and psychoanalysts reckon there's more to it, like some deep-down stuff needing to come out.”
"Delusion! Hah! That's a good one coming from you," CRC fired back.
"The real delusion is thinking humanity isn't worth a darn," Sogiita shot back, pulling out some info from Johansen and Osman. "Some scientists think coincidences are just random flukes, but counselors and psychoanalysts reckon there's more to it, like some deep-down stuff needing to come out. Unconscious material to be expressed."
Rosencreutz interjected, his expression reflecting a mix of confusion and concern. "Aleister Crowley's actions have left a lasting scar on this world and this city," he began, his voice weighted with solemnity. “The vacuum-like dichotomy between magic and science created by the use of that colossal psychotronic weapon, has damaged this world's memory irreparably.”
Psychotronic weapon?
The Archetype Controller?
He paused, his gaze piercing as he continued, "Jung's exploration of synchronicity as evidence of the paranormal paved the way for further inquiry, notably by Koestler and the subsequent embrace of these ideas by the New Age movement.”
Sogiita shrugged, "Some folks say synchronicity is impossible to test or prove, so it gets labeled as pseudoscience. Jung even acknowledged that these synchronicity events are basically just coincidences, statistically speaking. But hey, who's to say what's really going on without some solid scientific studies, right?"
"Dubious as his experiments may have been," CRC interrupted, "Jung believed in a connection between synchronicity and the paranormal, drawing parallels to the uncertainty principle and works by parapsychologist Joseph B. Rhine.” CRC posed a thought-provoking question, "How are we to recognize acausal combinations of events, since it is obviously impossible to examine all chance happenings for their causality? The answer lies in the fact that acausal events are most readily expected where a causal connection appears inconceivable upon closer reflection. It's impossible, with our current resources, to explain ESP or meaningful coincidences as mere phenomena of energy. This challenges the very notion of cause and effect, as these events occur simultaneously rather than in a linear cause-and-effect manner. Hence, I have coined the term 'synchronicity' to describe this phenomenon, placing it on equal footing with causality as a principle of explanation."
Getting closer to that Gemstone, CRC emphasized, "Esper abilities cannot be fully understood with science alone. They defy traditional cause-and-effect explanations, instead representing a convergence of factors that create a quantum phenomenon affecting both the micro and macro. Why were there the naturally gifted and the naturally ungifted?”
Why did some students get praised for their abilities while others needed to work harder?
Others among them would have worked every hour of their free time and not progressed anywhere in this city’s leveling curriculum.
Why did this city present such an unfair and unpredictable status quo of potential?
Why did hard work barely matter in a city of empirical evidence to record any possible progress?
Sogiita Gunha wasn't a normal Level 5 but he wasn't always this powerful. He went through the curriculum same as everyone but if the outside conditions for his Gemstone ability to manifest didn't form in the exact way that it did, in such an acausal form then would he even be here to challenge Christian Rosencreutz right now?
Everything just happened to fall right into place.
All those puzzle pieces that would lead to this moment here and now.
Was it all just talent? God picking a fool as his champion?
The #7 leaned back, absorbing CRC's words with a thoughtful expression. "So, what you're saying is, there's this whole other layer to reality that we can't quite wrap our heads around," he summarized, nodding slowly. "I mean, it's like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands—slippery and elusive."
He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Historic recurrence, synchronicities, all these things—they're like pieces of a puzzle scattered across this substantial reality. And sometimes, they just... click into place, right? It's like the universe has its own plan, and we're just along for the ride."
That bandana wearing boy's gaze drifted, lost in thought. "You know, CRC, it's funny," he remarked, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Here we are, with all our powers and potential, but at the end of the day, we're still grappling with the same questions as everyone else. Talent, destiny, divine intervention—maybe they're all just different sides of the same coin."
He shrugged, the weight of the philosophical musings settling over the broken city. "Who knows? Maybe God does have a sense of humor, after all.” that boy chuckled.
There was a deep silence between them.
Rosencreutz’ response was swift and resolute, his tone filled with certainty. "All this ‘universe has a plan’ banter is just a distraction from the inevitable," he declared, his eyes narrowing. "We can debate the nature of us being all-powerful yet struggling with mortal issues until the sun burns out, but it won't change the fact that our fate was sealed upon the knowledge Adam learned."
“To think so many trivialities have developed while this old man wasn’t watching. Heh heh. Then I should assume the thread of fate has again begun to weave its strange connections between myself and some unknown human.”
He rose forward, his movements purposeful. "It's time to put an end to this dance of platitudes," CRC continued, his voice cold and unwavering. "We'll settle this the only way that somewhat matters—through objective action in this grand play."
“Silence, preserved doll. Illusionists are meant to remain silent. That is all we magicians are: wielders of substanceless illusions. Opening your mouth serves only to break the illusion.”
With a flicker of resolve in his eyes, he locked gazes with the #7. "I am Hydra, Gemstone," he said, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. "Our battle ends now.” CRC opened both his palms and began shooting at their surroundings, the buildings, the pavement, the apartments, the rubble.
It probably wasn't random as it seemed to create a pattern.
“Huh are you getting senile old man?” asked the young Gemstone.
“What fun. I never imagined someone would bother diligently polishing their skills this far while knowing it is all essentially an illusion. Didn’t you ever feel silly going to the effort?”
Rosencreutz dropped to all fours, his rosy cross sword gripped tightly in his right hand.
He moved—
“Arrgh!” Sogiita yelled amidst the relentless and precise and precise strikes from that golden cross. “Old man?” he asked.
That magician didn't say anything.
That silver man’s movements became more beastly.
Faster.
Stronger.
Fiercer.
Something new was beginning to manifest.
With each strike of his higher dimensional blade that old man’s blows seemed infused with an otherworldly energy.
The wounds inflicted by his weapon burned with a venomous intensity, sending searing pain coursing through Sogiita's body.
That boy grimaced as the poison from that silver man’s strikes surged through his being, each wound feeling like it was ablaze with venomous fire.
"Damn... That burns…like a killer hornet’s sting," he muttered through clenched teeth, his voice strained with effort. Gritting, he fought to maintain his focus, despite the agony threatening to overwhelm him.
Was this another application of The Four Stages? Citrinitas? No, there was nothing yellow here, it was more like a dirty purple.
But it wasn't just the physical damage that posed a threat.
As the Rosy Cross leader leaped on all fours his movements took on an almost erratic quality, he was bouncing from one building to another with an animalistic agility.
With each jump, a shockwave rippled through the air, carrying with it a palpable sense of dread.
Something was spreading.
The air around them seemed to thicken with a toxic miasma. The #7 struggled to breathe, the noxious fumes clouding his senses.
Like a chaotic monster’s venomous poison breath.
The once-clear air now felt thick and suffocating.
Gasping for breath, the bandana boy struggled to maintain his focus amidst the swirling chaos.
His vision blurred, his movements sluggish as he fought against the oppressive atmosphere.
Blinded that heroic boy could only fire a flame arrow without his sight.
His fists striking out with all the strength he could muster. Igniting in that poisonous compressed air.
It seemed to be flammable like a dragon’s breath.
???
At the hospital, Shokuhou's voice carried a mix of surprise and relief. “He caused real damage.” she exclaimed.
Kamijou turned his attention to her, intrigued. “What happened?”
“It's hard to see clearly, but it looks like the #7 managed to rip off CRC's left arm,” she explained. “Though, I'd say it was more of a lucky shot. I can read he acted on pure instinct.”
Kamijou nodded, a hint of melancholy in his tone. “Yeah... the psychic link and all.”
Had the #7 Level 5 given up on the old man?
Back on the battlefield, Sogiita cursed under his breath. “Dammit... Sorry, old man,” he muttered. “I was aiming to hit your whole body to maximize the surface area, maybe break a few bones as a casualty. We can probably get your arm reattached at the hospital. Heaven Canceller has enough guts to even fix me.”
It was clear—he hadn't given up.
It was an accidental strike of his arm.
“As each ghastly head was severed from its serpentine form, dreadfully, two more writhed forth from the abyss.” a cryptic voice amidst the chaos spoke.
Wasn't it said that the Hydra’s lair was the lake of Lerna in the Argolid.
Lerna was reputed to be an entrance to the Underworld.
The abyss.
The Ungrund.
There is no limit to the depth of the Alcyonian Lake, and I know of nobody who by any contrivance has been able to reach the bottom of it since not even Nero, who had ropes made several stades long and fastened them together, tying lead to them, and omitting nothing that might help his experiment, was able to discover any limit to its depth. This, too, I heard. The water of the lake is, to all appearance, calm and quiet but, although it is such to look at, every swimmer who ventures to cross it is dragged down, sucked into the depths, and swept away.
The keeper of the gate to the Underworld that lay in the waters of Lerna was the Hydra.
The serpentine Lake Monster.
“Rosencreutz……?” The #7 muttered.
That magician chuckled ominously. "Indeed, young Heracles," he intoned, his voice echoing with a bizarre resonance. “The Lernaean Hydra's curse is upon you now.” as he said that he ripped off a bit of his arm that was cuterarised and it began bleeding.
Anna Sprengel’s blood was said to create unknown miracles when spilled.
Christian Rosencreutz’ blood was so virulent that even its scent was deadly.
As Sogiita Gunha glanced at his severed arm lying on the ground, a creeping sense of horror enveloped him. "All fate is a curse and that curse," he murmured, his words barely audible over the din of battle, "extends even to my severed limb.”
Christian Rosencreutz’ left arm grew back.
No.
Two new arms grew in its place.
The arm was fully functioning with no defects.
Although one of the arms appeared somewhat scaly and lanky like a serpent.
It had human anatomy but something was abnormal here.
He almost looked like a spider as he emerged from the poisonous fog as he remained on all fours.
“So short-stack. Are you ready to complete your final labor: Crossing the abyss!!!” He challenged that boy with his cross sword facing him.
"Boss, what's up? You look kinda stuck," Kamijou asked, his tone concerned.
Two students were sitting together in the waiting room at a hospital.
"—abyss, Hydra, curse, synchronicities, Historic recurrence." she replied, her words carrying a weight of unease.
"Huh? What? Can you give me the lowdown?" Kamijou prodded, his urgency evident.
"Can't quite wrap my head around it. But what I can tell you is that after CRC started talking about these esoteric concepts, he leveled up his power ability, managed to seriously hurt the #7 despite me cranking up all his stats for the win condition," the honey-blonde girl explained, frustration creeping into her voice.
"Can you beam all that stuff into my head, like a memory download? You're a psychological esper, right? My right hand won't mess with it, and we've done the telepathy thing before," Kamijou suggested.
"Memory download's not quite it, but I can send you a recording," she clarified.
"Got it," Kamijou muttered as he absorbed the info.
"You got any ideas to help the #7’s situation ability, Kamijou-san? We're kinda desperate here," she asked.
"I wish Index was still here, dammit.” he lamented, “But you know about magic, right?" he queried.
"Yeah, people converting their delusions into reality right?," she admitted.
"Well, magic's not just about delusions; it can be tied up to the whole world. Not sure if it's relevant, but based on Idol Theory, Rosencreutz might be pulling in 'energy’ from the Greek 'phase’ of Heracles for an edge," Kamijou theorized.
"Like a chessboard flip?" Shokuhou Misaki inquired, her brow furrowed with concern.
"No, more like... imagine you're playing checkers with a buddy, and you're totally crushing it because you're a checkers pro. Then suddenly, your buddy switches it up and challenges you to an arm wrestling match, and you lose because, well, arm wrestling isn't your forte," Kamijou Touma explained, trying to paint a vivid picture.
"So, by taking on the role of the Hydra from Greek myth, he's essentially forcing the #7 into the role of Heracles? But didn't Heracles defeat the Hydra?" Shokuhou sought clarification.
"Yeah, but..." Kamijou recalled the tale from the movies he'd seen. "Lichas gave Heracles a shirt soaked in the Hydra's poisonous blood from his arrows, which ends up killing him by tearing his flesh down to the bone," he elaborated.
"It was actually Nessus seeking vengeance and tricking Deianira into giving it to Heracles as a gift, delivered by Lichas without disclosing the tunic's lethal bloodstained secret from the Lernaean Hydra, but you're right," Shokuhou corrected gently. "So, Rosencreutz is harnessing the power of that legend to slowly poison the #7?"
"Not literal. I mean the poison is real but his slashes do significant harm now so it's more like shifting the paradigm in his favor…shifting his position.” The spiky-haired boy wasn't in the mood to explain Phases, “Earlier, he mentioned Sogiita spreading his 'virus' throughout the world. A virus isn't a poison in the traditional sense, but the Rosicrucians originally sought to create a universal cure for all illnesses. Now, CRC is spreading a literal poison, positioning himself as the ultimate predator and his opponents as prey rather than his savior role, the paradigm has been shifted." Kamijou concluded, his voice tinged with gravity.
“So he’s changed the environment to get the win condition? The #7’s durability doesn't matter in the face of the world being forced to go about a certain way because of Rosencreutz stage play?” The girl asked.
“Yeah…if things keep going this way…Sogiita will….goddamnit….” The spiky haired boy swore. “I can't let someone else die after all that's happened but I feel like if I go out there I really will kill him…” he muttered that last bit while clenching his right fist that began shaking uncontrollably.
The girl’s eyes seemed confused. “What did you say?” The honey blonde middle schooler asked.
“Nothing, just mumbling to myself.” he spat out.
That boy and girl could never come to the right conclusion on their own without the aid of former Magic God Othinus by their side.
“Did you think I had challenged you with no hope of succeeding, you cesspool? The magic born on earth is bound by the directions based on the earth’s magnetic field and by the density and composition of the air which is determined by air pressure which is in turn influenced by gravity. That is inevitable when you are focused on the cardinal directions of north, south, east, and west or on the basic elements of fire, water, wind, and earth. But what you will find upon leaving the atmosphere is an unknown. Coronzon, are you sure there will be no malfunction in the magic giving you control of Avatar Lola? And before, my power was bound by the puny speck named earth which failed to become a black hole or even a sun, but once we enter outer space, just how far do you think that power will be released? I do not mind at all that I will lose the support of Academy City.”
Well the boy was half right.
“Let us test it out, you cuspidor. On one side, we have you using the planet and bound to an avatar. On the other, we have me exposed and freed from the planet. Now, who will be the star of this show?”
Christian Rosencreutz did not shoot at his surroundings for no reason.
The battlefield transformed into Rosencreutz's canvas, resembling the legendary battleground of Lerna where Heracles once clashed with the Hydra.
Yes.
He didn't unleash his powers randomly; every action was deliberate.
In the magical side of Idol Theory, mimicking an object, event, or person allowed one to tap into a fraction of its power.
And that even applied to locations that essentially worked as stage plays.
Idol Theory was so absolute that even the basic cross held a portion of the son of God’s power.
As Above, So Below.
As Below, So Above.
Macro to micro.
Micro to macro.
And the macrocosm and the microcosm are always linked.

FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.
OC Written by Charlie Stastarrfallknightrise,
Typed up and then posted here by me.
Proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800 u/BakeGullible9975 u/Didnotseemecomein and u/medium_jock
Future Lore and fact check done by me.
Caution swearing!
Also, god I love you Conn… please never change!
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
"Both of you get your suits back on."
"What the hell is going on!?”
Richards demanded, Adam took a deep breath,
"Captain Richards that was not an opening for a discussion, that was an order. Now put the damn suit on, or I swear I will knock you out and do it myself!”
The three of them were floating in the module staring at each other, hands resting against what must have been no more than a few millimeters of aluminum.
He stared at them, and they stared back.
Adam did not break eye contact with the two, willing them to do as they were told. Chavez was the first to move, hurrying over to her space suit and struggling to pull it on in a near panic as bright lights flashed from outside. Inside his heart was pounding but he tried to remain calm for the two standing before him.
He hurried over to help Chavez pull on her gear, finally sealing the helmet in place as Richards finally moved to do the same.
Adam helped pull the hard torso over the man's head and link it to the waist before helping him pull on his gloves and, eventually the helmet. Before he let go, he kept hold of Richards by either side of the helmet staring at him through the glass,
"I promise, if you listen to me, I will keep you safe."
He kept eye contact with the other man until Richards finally nodded, and Adam let him go to float over and put on his own suit. His hands were steady, for now, but he knew as soon as the crisis was over he'd be shaking like a leaf.
If he survived…
He gritted his teeth, cursing himself for thinking like that.
He was Admiral Vir for crying out loud. He had survived far too much to go and die now.
He returned to the helm of the command module as he looked out the thick window at the lights flashing on either side of them. Despite the war that was raging around them, everything seemed so strangely quiet. There was no sound no rumbling, not even a vibration as one of the jets flew past. Despite being at the controls of the vehicle, there was nothing he could do. They only had a certain amount of fuel to get them to the lunar surface, and if he wasted any of it at all, they would be either caught in orbit, or miss the moon entirely.
He had to keep his cool.
Another bright burst of light lit the window to his right. This one was closer this time.
His heart leaped up into his throat.
Richards and Chaves joined him buckling into their seats.
"What is going on?”
Richards demanded again, his mike distant and tinny with the sound of very old technology.
"I believe Anti-Alliance forces are attempting to assassinate me. They have been trying for months now, and I think they are being encouraged by very powerful members of the government."
They watched as another set of ships zoomed past.
He saw a flash of a silhouette, just enough to know that one of them was a Thunderhawk and the other was a silver Rundi drone.
It confirmed his worst fears. The Chairwoman had been behind this the whole time!
[…]
Red nearly collided with the rocket. The Thunderhawk had pulled up the last minute, but he had almost been too late. He jerked the stick to the side, throwing up his wing just in time to avoid hitting the rocket as it made its slow way through space. He dove down on the other side forced to break off pursuit and cut in front of another Thunderhawk coming in from above. He made to look like he was going to ram them, playing a dangerous game of chicken, which he won at the last second as the other pilot panicked and cut to the left.
There were too many of them. Only five out of the original twenty had been destroyed, and he and the rest of their pilots were busy just keeping the thunder hawks away from the rocket, much less to have any time of firing at them. He had sent one of his people down to earth and one of them off towards the moon for backup. The moon was still hours away yet, so the hope that some help would be sent from them was unlikely, and even the woman he had sent down to earth's surface was cutting it close.
He didn't have much hopes that they would be able to hold out that long.
Inside the cockpit his warning lights began to blink and blair as one of the other jets got a lock on him. He rolled right to avoid them and dove down, cutting off the lock but still being pursued by those behind him. Up ahead he saw one of the silver balls erupt into flames as it was targeted by an expert hit from one of the Thunderhawk pilots.
He rolled right.
Someone else rolled left. He cut up just in time to avoid being hit and raced forward to cut off another Thunderbird that was heading directly towards the rocket.
[…]
Eris hurried down the hallway, her knees screaming as she did her very best to sprint, but despite her human anatomy, she was a little too much like a starborn.
With a cry of frustration she reached up and tore off her hoodie, throwing it to the ground and engaging her anti-gravity belt. The ribbons on her back billowed out behind her.
Light spilled in from the windows on either side of the catwalk she was now on, filling her with a buzzing energy that she could feel radiating through the ribbons like electricity. She knew from her study of starborn that they could travel at thousands of miles an hour in the vacuum of space, especially when under the power of a star. She didn't think she needed to go THAT fast, but anything would be better than what she was doing now.
As if in response to her will, she suddenly began to glide forward, picking up speed as she swooped towards the end of the hall, wind catching her in the face and roaring along her cheeks. With her starborn skin, she barely felt a thing as she raced around the corner and out of the waiting door. Two men dressed in military ACUs dived to the side as she blew past them crying out in alarm and confusion as the "Alien" floated by.
Somewhere distantly, she could sense Conn racing in the opposite direction towards the base.
Sunny and Admiral Kelly had Admiral Massie in their custody and were dragging him out into the hallway.
She blew across the open ground her ribbons snapping and billowing behind her as she did. She didn't even have time to imagine what she looked like as she roared over the open field and towards the waiting news vans which were just beginning to pack up their things. They were close to leaving, but she set out a sharp hard telepathic pulse ordering them to stop.
Compelling them to stop.
They froze in their tracks and looked up to see her coming.
Someone scrambled to turn on their camera, not sure what was going on but sure it had to be something good.
She tried not to think about what they would see as the camera flared to life following her approach.
"Make us live."
She ordered,
The news people glanced between each other in confusion,
"But no… we aren’t-"
"What are-"
She came to a sudden jolting stop before them, her billowing black hair fanning out behind her like a curling halo.
"I said, put us on air."
This time the telepathic pulse was too strong to resist. Mostly that, paired with the fact that none of them were sure they really wanted to resist. She was way too interesting to pass up.
They hurried to do what they were doing, and Eris was given just enough time to feel nervous before the camera was turned to her.
They were live.
She read it in the minds of those behind camera who she cut off as she began to speak,
"Citizens of Earth, there has been a horrible conspiracy against you. The UN president has ordered the assassination of Admiral Adam Vir and has continually attempted to sabotage the mission. Just now General Massie was taken into custody after ordering the deployment of twenty Thunderhawk’s to harass the rocket and make its destruction look like some sort of collision with space debris."
The group gawked at her as she raised her hand with the small silver device and began playing the recording.
She knew something like this would never be admissible in court. She was pretty sure it would be considered entrapment of some kind, which is why it must be heard now, before everyone, so that the actions of the president could be judged by a jury of the world where it could not be hidden by political machinations.
"Communications have been lost with Apollo 11. And it is... Well... It is likely that he is already dead..."
Her voice broke,
"No matter what happens, I need you, and this nation to understand what is happening before it gets swept under the rug. I saw it with my own eyes, heard it with my own ears and experienced their meeting in the thoughts of a man who is both xenophobic and hateful to his own humankind."
She kept talking trying to give them all the information she could, spilling thoughts she had heard in the head of the UN president and General Massie alike. Every meeting, every liaison, every name until her voice was beginning to crack.
[…]
The UN president was just standing to enter her vehicle when a slow muttering began in the crowd behind her. She turned as the ground before her went silent.
She watched as a wave ran through the people. A wave of nudging and whispering and showing off news feeds they had pulled up on their wrist implants. It wasn't long before the entire crowd was either staring down at their arms or clustered around someone else for viewing.
"What is going on?”
She wondered, turning to one of her men who was staring down at her own wrist.
"Madame president?"
He said with a look of confusion.
She could hear it now.
"Her and General Massie have ordered members of the UNSC to adjust funds in order to hide the twenty Thunderhawk’s they were squirting away for just such an event."
She hurried forward, grabbing the secret serviceman by the arm, staring at it as she watched the streaming newsfeed and the freaky white alien with the large dark eyes and flowing black hair.
"She is afraid of aliens, she wishes to isolate and eventually use humanity's superior forces to overtake trade in the galaxy, forceful if need be."
The muttering behind her had turned into an angry grumbling, and she turned to see the eyes of hundreds that turned towards her.
"Get me out of here."
She hissed. the Secret Serviceman took a step back with a look of confusion and indecision on his face.
"It's your job."
She snarled, but he just stared at her.
She hurriedly ran over to her car as the crowd began to filter in around them pressing close. A few of the secret service men pulled guns, but a large majority of them were frozen with indecision and were taken over by the crowd. She scrambled into the back seat of her vehicle and slammed the door shut screaming at the driver to get moving.
The crowd was surrounding them now, pounding at the glass.
She could hear their angry voices raised for her to be heard behind bullet proof glass.
Outside, she watched a lone figure step onto the platform where the lectern was and stare at her with its beady black eyes. The Chairwoman of the GA stood over the crowd like it's filthy alien lord.
And even though Rundi could not smile, she could swear it was smiling.
[…]
Baby K hit a rough patch of turbulence coming down from the atmosphere. She struggled with the controls as she was thrown left and right inside the cockpit of her rickety shuttle.
Donovan Red had ordered her down here to grab the UNSC, but she was so scared and full of adrenaline that she had dropped it at too steep an angle. The ride was much bumpier than it was supposed to be, and her teeth were rattling inside her head.
Just then two Jets suddenly cut in behind her out of nowhere, and she heard her console beep and warn her about a lock on, making it clear that she was just one click of a trigger away from imminent doom.
"This is Eagle Dispatch One, unidentified vessel, you have crossed into restricted UNSC airspace, identify yourself or be destroyed! You have ten seconds to comply, over."
She scrambled for her communications, but her fingers felt as stiff as wood as she scrambled for the button.
"I repeat, this is Eagle Dispatch One, unidentified vessel, you have entered restricted UNSC airspace, you are ordered to identify yourself or be destroyed. Five seconds remaining. Over."
She slammed her first into the comms button nearly panicking,
"UNSC!"
Her voice was rattling,
"This is B-baby K, and I... The Apollo 11 is under attack!"
She was breathless as she forced the words out.
There was silence over the coms,
"Say again? Uhm I mean please repeat over.”
"Apollo 11 is under attack!"
”…”
”…”
More silence,
”Roger that. Please stand by. Over."
The lock lifted and the two jets pulled up to the side of her, staying close now.
She recognized those jets as two F-90 Darkfires.
They stayed by her side for a moment, and as close as they were she could see one of the pilots fidgeting with the coms, talking and wildly gesticulating, while his copilot was beginning to wildly flip switches.
Meanwhile, a second voice came in over the coms.
"On your left! Eagle Dispatch Two here, unidentified vessel, please land on UNSC base airstrip one. Just contact the control tower once you get close for guidance and instruction."
Baby K looked over into the other jet, just to see the pilot adjusting his helmet and clicking an oxygen tube to the front of his helmet. His co-pilot had already put the additional oxygen mask on and was also flipping switches.
”Uhm aren’t you going to escort me?”
Baby K managed to blurt out in confusion,
”Godspeed Baby K, Eagle Dispatch Two over and out.”
Both men in the jet to her left had apparently finished their preparations and gave her a quick salute.
Then suddenly, both jets adjusted their angle and cut engines, before switching to their big fusion engines, rocketing them up and out of sight within seconds.
[…]
So far it had been a relatively quiet day at the Ellington Field Joint Reserve Base. Most of the air traffic had been canceled due to the launch of the Apollo mission, so there was not much to do, leaving much of the Airport less staffed than normal.
In the Air Traffic Control tower of the base, only two men were working. Though “working” was stretching it, considering Senior Controller M. Fredrick was currently in the middle of his book (though he was at least in front of his station) and his comrade Senior ATC Instructor A. Millard was currently sitting in a corner, watching a movie on his implant.
”So what are you watching? One of those old Star Wars movies?”
”You bet! Those are the best! By the way any info on that “lost civilian” who got into our airspace?”
”No not yet, though I sent Eagle Dispatch and told them to be extra unfriendly, that will scare these civilians off for sure!”
”Pffft, why couldn’t they watch the start like any other person? There is always some dumb rich kid doing dumb stuff with daddies private shuttle… I don’t understand why we always let them off with a warning…”
The console started beeping,
”Oh look that’s them now!”
”Put ‘em on speakers!”
”Will do!”
…
”ATC this is Eagle, come the FUCK in!”
Fredrick rolled his eyes,
”Ahem… This is Elling Field ATC, calling Eagle Dispatch One. We hear you, over.”
”ATC what the FUCK took you so long!?”
”Ellington Field ATC, to Eagle Dispatch one, firstly: language, secondly: please follow standard radio rules, over.”
”THE APOLLO IS UNDER ATACK BY HOSTILE ELEMENTS!”
”Ellingt-WHAAAAT!? Repeat please! Over!”
”THE APOLLO IS BEEING ATACKED BY HOSTILE ELEMENTS! REQUETING IMMEDIATE ASSIST!”
Fredrick just stared at Millard dumbfounded. As the senior officer Millard was quick to collect himself and jumped up and towards his console.
”What are you waiting for Fredrick! Are we blind!? DEPLOY THE GARRISON!”
Fredrick ignored all protocol and just flipped the switch to connect his comms to every recipient available.
”ATC to all personnel and everyone who can hear me, the Apollo is under attack, I repeat, the apollo is under attack. I want all available planes that can reach the outer atmosphere ready ASAP! Get the darkfires on the runway I want them in the air yesterday!”
[…]
Conn raced towards the airstrip, feeling the wind in the ribbons at his back. He couldn't go nearly as fast as he wanted to with air resistance.
Why the hell did Adam always have to get into so much trouble, why did he always have to be the center of attention!?
Everyone either hated him or loved him, but the problem was people who hated him also wanted to kill him.
Why did he have to be so controversial!?
Why did he have to be hated for something that was such a big deal. Why couldn't he be hated for having controversial political opinions. Conn paused…
On second thought, controversial political opinions were kind of what had gotten them here in the first place, so he guessed that was kind of a useless comparison. How about being the kind of guy who liked to talk too much about fishing. That was a great way to make people hate you for being boring, but it didn't usually mean that people wanted to kill you.
Maybe they could get the man a hobby doing something that wasn't so controversial…
Like…
Kicking small Animals or…
Cannibalism.
He came roaring to the stop at the edge of the airfield just in time to watch an entire platoon of pilots racing towards jets. He could hear their minds and looked up to see a rather dinky shuttle descending from the sky. He floated forward towards one of the jets as two pilots leaped inside.
He was going to need a ride.
The pilots turned to look at him, but Conn just shook his head.
The pilots decided to ignore him in the confusion and Conn grabbed on tight.
Starborn, he had come to learn, were a very interesting species in comparison to others. Vertically, as in from the top down he was very fragile and likely to break his neck or collapse his spine if there was any kind of pressure, but with horizontal forces, he was practically indestructible. Below him the ship roared to life and soon they were gathering speed along the runway.
His grip was tight, and he used the extra energy from his ribbons to speed himself up along with the jet to reduce the pull on his arms.
His grip wasn't that strong.
They went vertical almost immediately, and he made sure to orient his body in the correct direction as they went hurtling into the sky.
[…]
Red's right wing had been hit. If there had been atmosphere around him he would have been a goner, but there was no air resistance here, so once he regained control of his roll, he pulled back into position and fired one last shot as the opportunity arose. The sixth Thunderhawk was destroyed in an eruption of debris, which he dodged only with difficulty, limping without the aid of the maneuvering jet on the end of his one wing. Things were only speeding up now, the Rundi were almost gone and the pressure was being laid thick on his people. They were hard to hit but the pursuit made it almost impossible for them to do any real maneuvering of their own. He was almost hit again as another Thunderhawk sped underneath him. They rolled this way and that rocking from one side to the other. Flying through debris and over strips of silver metal.
Below them the earth hung as a glowing orb.
Red cut in a wide circle coming in with the sun at his back, using it to blind one of the enemy Thunderhawk’s as he came in. He watched the group of them form up suddenly as a ring around the slow moving rocket, intending quite certainly to rush it all at once. He screamed into the comm trying to order his men around, but it was going to be too late, he could already see it coming.
The jets rushed forward, and he did too, screaming inside his helmet as they went to broadside Apollo 11.
And then with all the silence of space, sixteen F-90 Dark Fires came spitting overhead all at once, raining down a line of ordinance that cut through the group of unsuspecting Thunderhawk’s.
Space around them was filled with a myriad of silent explosions as each and every one of them was ripped to shreds.
All except one…
He saw it at the last moment.
It had been hit in the tail and had gone wildly off course.
It turned sideways, but had just enough force... For its wing to tear straight through the aluminum siding of the rocket.
FUCK!
[…]
Chavez and Richards had been ordered to strap into their seats.
Adam had taken it upon himself to lock down the rest of the main cabin. Outside the flashing lights were like a fireworks display without sound. He grabbed onto one of the rails, forcing equipment back into place, so that if anything happened it wouldn't fly out.
His legs were kicked up behind him as he floated forward reaching for some of the controls as a sudden bright wash of light filtered in through the windows. He heard a scream over his com, and then the air around him was rent with a horrific tearing noise, which suddenly went silent. There was a rush, and he jerked forward as he was sucked back... And out of the ship entirely.
His hands and legs kicked and flailed as he tried to right himself, hearing his own breathing as the only sound as he watched the rocket begin to spin, debris erupting around him as air, and whatever wasn't strapped down was sucked through the small opening.
The rocket was spinning wildly but still on course, while he was spinning wildly in a silent abyss.
Grunting against the force of his spin, he reached down for the controls to the CO2 canister built into the pack of his spacesuit.
He groaned, not sure which way was up or down or back. He tried to right himself against the spin by firing in the opposite direction to slow his spin.
He could see the rocket now spinning in the opposite direction with the sudden loss of oxygen. He hoped the other astronauts were ok. He saw the silhouette of a jet fly past in the distance making its way towards the spinning rocket.
At least there was someone here to help.
Maybe the others would survive-
And then he just… stopped, coming to a confusing halt in the middle of space.
That shouldn't have been right!
He should have kept going forever!
He tried turning his head, but he felt like the pillsbury doughboy in this two thousand year old suit.
What was happening?
"Did you miss me Baby?”
Well shit, now he sort of wished he could keep spinning.
There was a tugging on the outside of his suit, and Conn floated into view in front of his helmet.
"Hey sweetheart."
"You are probably the last person I wanted to see."
He said, though he didn't entirely mean it, and unfortunately Conn knew that too, the mindreading asshole that he was.
”I could hardly let the father of my child go spinning off into space without taking accountability for his family. After al child support is paying way more than widows pension."
"Shove it up your ass Conn."
"No really, not even the vacuum of space is going to save you from your responsibilities. Now, about custody, I was thinking you could have every other weekend and a couple of major holidays…”
He gave a rueful sort of smile as Conn grabbed him by the life support pack and started floating them towards the rocket.
The F-90s had somehow managed to slow the spin of the rocket, and pull it back on course with grappling magnets.
All around them space was filled with debris. No more working Thunderhawk’s were present and those that were were quickly being grappled. One sleek racing jet slowly cruised past them. One of its wings was damaged, but whoever was inside waved with one hand as he rolled past.
Adam lifted a hand as Conn brought him the last few hundred feet to the torn opening in the side of the ship, allowing him to step through.
Conn patted him on the side of the helmet,
"Make sure to be home by dinnertime sweetie."
Before blowing him a kiss and vanishing back out the hole.
Adam floated there, a bit nonplussed for a moment before turning back to the front of the ship where Chaves and Richards were still strapped into their seats staring at him and after Conn. He floated over to strap himself in.
"Admiral! You're ok!”
"Yes, it seems that I am, thanks to a... Friend of mine."
Just then Conn appeared again just before their right side window, and like the classy gentlemen that he was began rubbing his butt up against the glass.
He sighed,
"Friend is kind of stretching it."
"Apollo 11 this is Houston, do you copy!"
The man on the other end of the line sounded close to tears, and Adam hurried to respond,
"Houston this is Apollo 11."
On the other side he thought he heard the sound of voices cheering in relief.
"What is your status, over?”
"We are a bit beat up Houston, we have a tear in our hull, but our suits are ok, and we have help."
"Prepare to abort mission."
Adam frowned,
"Now wait a second there Houston! I didn't get sucked out the side of my own rocket to just quit now. Tell the boys to come up here and patch us up and we can finish the mission. All systems are still functioning, and we are back on course."
He glanced over at the others,
”That is, if the crew wants to continue."
There was a pause and then Chavez timidly piped in,
"I'd be ok with that."
Richards sighed,
"Roger Houston, patch us up."
Granted it may have been cheating. Apollo 11 hadn't had support with special tools that could just patch up a spaceship within ten minutes, but then again the original Apollo 11 hadn't been in the middle of a firefight while on their journey to the moon.
So it was with some trepidation that Houston allowed it, and before long they had air back inside the cabin back up to pressure, but they also had a sixteen-man rotating escort for the rest of the way.
The group of them were even shocked to see Rundi drones join the formation, only to learn that it had been the UN president who had allegedly called the hit on him. It was hard to believe, but they were only getting snippets here and then from over radio and from Conn, who floated around occasionally to rub another part of his anatomy against the window and give them teasing updates.
The moon was growing slowly in their vision.
"Hehe, I can see my house from here."
Adam remarked as they prepared to detach the lunar module from the rest of the ship.
They landed without incident, observed by mobile camera crews and news reporters as he made his own footprint on the never changing dust of the moon's surface. He gave them a thumbs up to let them know he was fine and hesitated only once before setting up the UN flag in the dirt. He refused to let his enthusiasm be dampened by the day's events and hopped around dancing and leaping for joy as another one of his childhood dreams was fulfilled.
…
That was before he plowed face first into the moon's surface and required help from Richards to stand back up again.
They left soon after taking another three days of escort back to earth before strapping themselves in for final entry.
Conn left them just as they were entering orbit with a very big and very drawn out middle finger for all three of them.
"Your friend is super delightful isn't he?”
"You don’t know the half of it, try having a child with him."
Adam muttered, refusing to elaborate even as they stared at him in confusion.
They fell from the sky and landed somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, picked up by the waiting navy vessel who was within nine miles of their landing site. They were fished from the water and returned safe and sound to the ship to cheers and cameras. Adam's legs felt a little like jelly after days of not using them, and he was finally able to relax lying on the deck of the ship under the sun as people ran around them on either side.
His hands shook slowly building up after the stress of the last week. He took long deep breaths and closed his eyes.
The next few days were going to be a real shit show.
And somehow it wasn’t because he was now known as the man who faceplanted not one, but TWO interstellar bodies…
The media was way to busy with the other story, a massive net of deceit and corruption that would now be uncovered.
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Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author
Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story written by starrfallknightrise and I'll just upload some of it here for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!
Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this and for the people already knowing the stories, or starting to read them: If you follow the link and check out the story you will see some differences. I made some small (non-artistic) changes, mainly correcting writing mistakes, pronoun correction and some small additional info here and there of things which were not thought of/forgotten or even were added/changed in later stories (like the “USS->UNSC” prefix of Stabby, Chalar=/->Sunny etc). As well as some "biggemajor" changes in descriptions and info’s for the same stringency/continuity reason. That can be explained by the story collection being, well a story collection at the start with many standalone-stories just starring the same people, but later on it gets more to a stringent storyline with backstories and throwbacks. (For example Adam Vir has some HEAVY scars over his body, following his bones, which were not really talked about up till half the collection, where it says it covers his whole body and you find out via backflash that he had them the whole time and how he got them, they just weren't mentioned before. However, I would think a doctor would at least see these scars before that, especially since he gets analyzed, treated and goes shirtless/in T-shirts in some stories). So TLDR: Writing and some descriptions are slightly changed, with full OK from the author, since he himself did not bother to correct these things before.

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Time seemed to pass much quicker when Ghrruk and I were swimming together, finding small insects or algae to eat, and sleeping in the same place by nightfall. It was strange at first, but I felt safer. As if teamwork made us stronger.
Our front legs started to grow a few weeks after the attack. I was surprised to see Ghrruk’s lost leg regrowing too. It was still a stump, but a little longer.
“Do you think it’ll regrow entirely?” I asked her.
“I hope so. I’m the only one with a missing leg.”
“There are a few others whose legs have been damaged by the predators, though.”
Ghrruk’s tail drooped a little. “I’d rather have a damaged leg than a stump. At least they have a chance that it’d heal…”
“Maybe yours will heal as well. I’ve been looking at it lately and I’m certain it’s growing back.”
“Or maybe our bodies are simply becoming larger. And so does the stump.”
She was quite negative when it came to her leg, even though she saw our future, and Thomas, in a very positive light. Speaking of which, Thomas did install a defense of sorts above our home to protect us from predators. It worked because we hadn’t been bothered since.
THUMP – THUMP – THUMP
Speaking of the human…
“Thomas!”
Ghrruk immediately swam up. She wasn’t as graceful as before her tail started to shrink. The main reason, though, was that she was kicking water with one leg, which made her veer slightly to the left. It was almost unnoticeable. Any other tadpole would think it was the usual way she swam.
She really likes him, I thought, following her from a distance. My trust issues weren’t completely gone. My trip inside the jar had left quite its mark.
Small red worms swirled down and all the other tadpoles frantically ascended to fill their bellies. I did as always, staying a little below the rest, catching whatever came through.
Funny how they trusted Thomas, yet slurped, expelled, and then slurped again on the worm, likely examining the worm to make sure it’s actual food.
“Oh. Oh! Look at you!” Thomas exclaimed. “Some of you have front legs! You’re becoming actual frogs. Amazing!”
Thomas’ face descended so close to the water his nose almost dipped in it. Most tadpoles scattered away in fright, before curiosity – and food! – got the better of them and compelled them return to peek at their savior. I was certain he was looking for me so.
“Ah! Ghost! There you are! Wait a minute.”
The moment he uttered my name I dived down.
Thomas stood up and left. Ghrruk came swimming back to me in swift leg bursts.
“Why do you think he left? He usually stays longer, telling us stories,” she said.
“I don’t know but I don’t have a good feeling about this. I think I’m going to hide behind a rock or something.”
As expected, when Thomas returned, he held a stick of sorts and was looking for something – me! But I had a few good hiding places. It had taken a lot of effort to dig up dirt and arrange things on the bottom.
He tried to catch me with that stick again and again, stirring the bottom of the pond in order to find me. Unlike previous attempt, he didn’t linger for too long, where he’d be waiting for me to take a few gulps of breath. Whatever he tried to achieve, it didn’t seem that important to him. Or maybe he grew tired a lot quicker than the first time he saw me and my peculiarity.
Days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, we had all grown our forelegs. Our tails were also shrinking, forcing us to adapt a new swimming technique. And best of all, I could distinguish tiny knobs poking out of Ghrruk’s lump, sign that her toes were growing back.
“See,” I said, undulating the end of my tail rapidly, “your leg is growing back!”
“I’m not so sure...”
“It’s really there. I know you can’t see it, but I can. Why won’t you believe me?”
“Because it feels completely different than how it was before. When I walked out of the pond, I could feel every toe on my right leg. My left was just… weird.”
A few bubbles left my mouth.
“Wait, when you what?”
“Walked out of the pond.”
“When did you… how did you walk out of the pond?”
I was so surprised, even though I had seen other tadpoles, or rather, froglets, climb up and out. But that wasn’t reason enough to follow them. I never even thought about it, what with all those predators out there. And let’s not forget Thomas.
“A few days ago,” she said, her body wobbling excitedly. “You were busy digging the sediment to improve our hiding spots, as usual, and when I noticed a fellow froglet clambering out, I wanted to take the leap myself.”
A stream of bubbles left my mouth.
“You went out of our home? To do what? Get killed? Wasn’t losing one leg enough?”
Ghrruk’s kicked her hind legs, floating right in front of me.
“That leg wasn’t my fault,” she declared, her tiny front legs making an abrupt, agitated movement. “I did what everyone else did. You are the weird one, always wishing to hide deep inside our pond, spending countless hours digging in the depths. Don’t you feel the urge to leave? To explore? To have a glimpse what is beyond the water?”
“Maybe later. Now, I want to avoid Thomas. And the predators.”
She slowly drifted backwards, creating some distance between us both.
“Then, we will have to go our separate ways. Thomas is our savior and the outside is safe. Hasn’t he told us that this place is like our pond? Encompassed in such way that we can’t leave but also that others can’t come in? Why won’t you trust him?”
“I guess it’s in my nature not to trust humans.”
Ghrruk blew a few bubbles out. Her mouth gaped open and close, as if she was gasping for air. I knew I had infuriated her.
“Well, I trust him. I have also needs. My body desires to leave this place and find… whatever I need to find.” She twirled in place. “Ghost. See you around.”
Ghrruk sprung her hind legs hard against the water, darting away for the surface. I trailed her until she climbed out of the pond.
Why does she have to do this now?
I carefully popped my head above the water, observing Ghrruk clambering out. Without even glancing behind her, she clumsily snuck between the blades of grass and she was gone.
“Ghrruk? Ghrruk!” I called.
No answer came. Other froglets were following her lead. I decided to dive down to the comfort of my hiding place near the plants, which had grown considerably since the attack. There, I pondered about Ghrruk, about Thomas, about the meaning of my life, and what I ought to do, leaving only for food or air.
During that period, Thomas came and went, unlike Ghrruk, who I didn’t see again. She was gone.
Sometimes, when I ascended, I broke the water to check whether Ghrruk was somewhere around the edge of the pond. All I could see were other froglets, sitting immobile in the shadow, waiting patiently for no apparent reason.
Each day, more froglets left the pond. Of course, they ended up returning. But the murky waters had never felt so lonely. Loneliness. A sense that had never occurred to me. Not before Ghrruk. Thinking about her made me anxious, constantly wondering where she went, and how often she returned to the pond. I was certain she did return, except she never came back to my place, so there was always that possibility... I could only hope she didn’t get eaten.
Then, one day, when my tail had shrunk a bit more and most of my brethren’s color changed from black with tiny specks of brown to a lighter color with larger specks, sometimes even a hue of green, my entire body tingled. A curious sensation, an impulse akin to Ghrruk’s.
This call of nature drove me to the sand bank that Thomas had built on the edge of the pond to let the froglets leave easier. Initially, I thought it was a trick to catch me. But then I realized that it was a lot of effort just for me, and thought he was simply trying to help us, as he has always done.
Ghrruk was right, a voice whispered inside.
My tiny head and eyes popped above the water. No sign of Thomas. I kicked my legs, a new form of swimming that was much faster than the tail undulation, until I set foot on the sand bank. I was about to leave our home. My tiny heart was racing.
Grains of sand stuck to my body. It was a small hindrance, but nothing that would impede my will to find out what was beyond. With a few awkward steps, advancing leg by leg, I arrived at the edge of the grass.
Maybe I will meet Ghrruk today? Mayb – aaah!
“Gotcha, Ghost!”
Thomas!? Why didn’t I hear him come?
My entire body was stuck between his two fingers, so small I was.
“Exactly as I thought! Your eyes. They’re red! They don’t look evil or anything. They’re just… red. That’s so weird.”
If I could’ve screamed, I would have. I attempted to squeeze myself out, but the force of his fingers was far beyond my ability to do anything. My legs were the only thing squirming in place.
“You know what? I think you deserve a new name. A better one.”
Another name? It can’t be much worse than “Ghost”.
“To be honest, I never really liked your name. I know, I’m the one who gave it to you, but it felt a little hollow. Too… translucent, if you know what I mean.”
Thomas chuckled, which scared me even more.
“Hmmm… ‘Red’ is too plain so let’s call you Carmine.”
That’s worse!
“Yes, Carmine sounds good. Do you know what it means?”
I don’t care, I just want to return to the tranquility of my pond and never leave it ever again!
“Carmine’s a Latin name that means ‘Song’. At least, that’s what my teacher told me. It’s also the name of a red color. Slightly deeper than crimson red, though I’m not gonna name you Crimson, right? Besides, Carmine is fitting for you.”
His hand suddenly moved towards his mouth. I was panicking, certain he’d gulp me down and that’d be the end of me. I was completely helpless, unable to get out of his strong grasp, rapidly advancing towards the two red bulges, widening into a circle until –
Smack.
My snout grazed his moist mouth and he inexplicably moved his hand back to where it was, with me still stuck between two fingers in the middle of the void.
“You’re adorable, Carmine. I hope you’ll sing a lot of beautiful songs once you get your frog voice.”
Another shadow loomed over me. Another human.
Thomas’ father? Oh no…
If being scared of what Thomas just did wasn’t enough, the human who detests me had arrived. From our very first encounter, I always felt uncomfortable whenever he was near. Likely because his first advice upon seeing me was to flush me down the drain – whatever that may be.
“Again with that disgusting thing. Throw it away, will you?” he growled.
“Why do you hate this frog so much? It’s such a cute thing. Look at it!”
“Yeah. It looks like piece of mold.”
“What? Because it’s white?”
“If I found that in the kitchen I wouldn’t touch it with my bare hands. Why won’t you just discard it? You’ve got hundreds of healthy frogs. Why are you so obsessed with this one in particular?”
“Maybe because Carmine’s a peculiar frog.”
“Carmine?” His whole body leaned back as he frowned. “Didn’t you name it Spooky or something like that?”
Thomas sighed and his eyes rolled. “No, dad, he was called Ghost, but now that his eye color is more pronounced, I think that Carmine’s a better name.”
“So you won’t –”
“No. Stop asking. He’s my favorite frog of all.”
The father’s head approached. His eyes filled the entire space in front of me.
“That’s why you’re squeezing him to death? Look at how frantically he tries to escape!”
“Oh, sorry, Carmine. I’ve been holding you for so long, it must hurt. Here!”
Thomas crouched and returned me back exactly where I was. Instead of continuing to the grass, I tumbled over. With one swift kick of my legs, I repositioned myself correctly and clambered through that sticky sand, which was now irritating my body – likely due to the lack of moisture – until I reached the water. I surged down to my hiding place and stayed there until Thomas was gone.
Around nighttime, part of me wished to try again, yet I didn’t. I was too scared to be picked up once more.
There’s no way I’m going back there.
But deep inside, I knew that I’d have to leave the pond. I knew I’d have to do the same as the others; explore the great outside and explore the rest of the world. For now, all I wished was to have Ghrruk in my vicinity so we could communicate, eat, and sleep together. If only I could have peace of mind in anticipation of what was to come next.
Good night Ghrruk. I miss you.
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Chapter 10 - The Dolphin
Tenar is practically insensate. Eventually she comes around, and a reality comes to her that the younger man is actually King Lebannen (aka Arren from The Farthest Shore). He is young except for something in his eyes, which considering the past makes a good amount of sense. He kneels to her but she stops him. Lebannen of Enlad was actually seeking her out and thought, for a moment, that she had known this and come to meet him. Labannen agrees to take her to her farm in Middle Valley on Gont. The older sailor offers to carry Therru to bed but Tenar stops him, Labannen does so instead. She feasts on king's food (though not on wine as good as Ogion's was) and is able to convey what has happened with her and Therru. Worse things than what is strikingly visible had happened to Therru, and Tenar is convinced that the leather capped man and her parents had done it. Handy probably couldn't have done much there, but with the curse and Tenar's fear for Therru... in telling this she becomes somewhat befuddled again, was she speaking in Kargish?
Tenar thought they wouldn't be able to reach her where she is heading and wanted to put it in the past, so she looks at Lebannen and instantly knows he is concerned about Ged. She calls him Sparrowhawk and Lebannen say all three of them go by their true names, but she corrects him that actually Ged only did so to both of them. She says, quite matter-of-factly, considering it has never been said outright, that, "'He's in danger from envious men, men of ill will...." Lebannen says he didn't want to believe his power was gone, and Tenar says, "'He wants to be alone until his hurts are healed,' she said at last, cautiously." Lebannen talks about the dry land, the mountains (called Pain) that cut and of which wounds take long to heal, and Tenar is reminded of Ged's hands as well as the stone (of which she picked up when regaining her senses) in her pocket. Lebannen is stately, but grief leaks out when he asks why Ged won't see him. Tenar says when Ged mentioned Lebannen the old Ged peeked out, part of not seeing him is pride, which Lebannen can't see Ged as being (the only word he can thing of when thinking of Ged is "patient"). Ged has changed, though, and has no patience now, just hardness on himself. She starts feeling ill, and on parting Lebannen says, "'Lady Tenar, you say you fled from one enemy and found another; but I came seeking a friend, and found another.'"
She wakes to the commotion of a ship, and Therru is hard to wake. She seems feverish and particularly withdrawn, no matter what Tenar tells her about the positives their new life will bring. There is a mark on Therru's arm, a four-fingered brand almost, from where Handy grabbed her, a promise he would never touch Therru, a promise Tenar could not have kept. Even when Lebannen speaks to Therru she does not answer... eventually she eats a little and is allowed to return to the cabin.
The ship passes through the Armed Cliffs, sandwiched walls filled with soldiered forts. Lebannen is on the high prow with the ship's master (Master Serrathen) and a man who is the Master Windkey of Roke Island. He wears a gray cloak of a mage from Roke Island, a similar one to the ones Ged had worn, through the highs and lows during Tenar's and his adventure together in Atuan. Their conversation is very polite (he is a weatherworker but is unneeded) and Tenar feels a tad like a barbarian... she wonders how a woman would/could succeed in "...their world [of] this dance of masks...."
It would take about a day to make port in Valmouth and Tenar was content to idle away on a makeshift bed the old sailor had made for her, watching the journey. Tenar bring Therru up and a very gnarled old sailor gifts a present to Therru by way of Tenar, a little dolphin carved of ivory or bone. Therru springs to life at the mention that it can go with the bone dolls (the person and animal) but eventually does reticently ask to return to the cabin (where they are) and Tenar has to thank the sailor on her behalf. She sees that all her work with Therru, the last year, might have been lost with that one touch from the appropriately named Handy, and for what reason?
She rejoins the king and mage in a setting that reminds her of her dream of dragons. Lebannen says he has no message for Ged, he has made him king (with their journey) whether he crowns him or not. Tenar sees a vulnerability in him, but it's necessary for him to be a good person: "He thought he had learned pain, but he would learn it again and again, all his life, and forget. And therefore he would not, like Handy, do the easy thing to do." Tenar says she would gladly take a message to Ged though perhaps Ged would not hear it. At this the mage says it was always so with him, and it comes to light he taught Ged and knew him longer than she did ("'But the first time I had him out in a boat, to learn how to speak to the wind, you know, he raised up a waterspout. I saw then what we were in for. I thought, Either he'll be drowned before he's sixteen, or he’ll be archmage before he's forty. ...Or I like to think I thought it.'"). Tenar asks if Ged is still archmage, quite a stark question. "The mage said finally, 'There is now no Archmage of Roke.' His tone was exceedingly cautious and precise. She dared not ask what he meant." Lebannen suggest that "...the Healer of the Rune of Peace..." (Tenar) would have some role in the new politics, to this the mage agrees but not without a beat as well as with no elaboration.
Lebannen reveals things from his journey with Ged and afterward, including (which hits Tenar like a gong) Kalessin, but in particular about Ged's staff being left behind and something that the Master Doorkeeper of Roke had said ("'He has done with doing. He goes home.'") which indicated Ged's time as a mage was done. A counsel was enacted on Roke to choose a new archmage. The king attended to get experience with the Council of the Wise, as well as because Thorion the Master Summoner had perished after his "art was turned against him by that great evil which my lord Sparrowhawk found and ended" (this book says he did not make his way back after meeting with Ged and Arren in the land of the dead and being directed back to the land of the living by Ged). Lebannen has trouble criticizing the wizards but the Master Windkey makes it clear: just like the last book, the counsel was stalemated to inaction. This section also talks about the other Masters in some detail (the Summoner who fled, the Patterner [also Kargish] who kept to the Grove, etc.). Eventually they look to the Master Namer (after all, he knows the names) who looked to the Master Patterner. Finally the Master Patterner said, trancelike, "'A woman on Gont,'" in Kargish, and no more, with no more knowledge of what he said than the rest. So they went to Gont with no more knowledge, though since they knew Tenar was there they thought perhaps it was her who was to lead them to the new archmage (some thought to Ogion, though he was ill and had refused being the archmage in the past, some thought to Ged again).
Tenar is of the opinion that the Master Windkey is wary of her (as she should be of him), but she meets Lebannen with candor. Tenar says it couldn't be her, she wouldn't lead them to Ged. The mage says it's likely it's not her, after all she would likely have been truly known since she is one of the few who "...bear their true names openly!" [ed: which is a bit interesting, in older books it stresses the amount of power one can have over another, and the secrecy among all but the closest, in revealing true names. It's even key to the ending of the first book. Also, she was mainly known as Goha, a use name]. He wants to know if perhaps she knows of anyone, and nothing comes to mind (except maybe the Woman of Kemay of Ogion's story, but she was mentioned as old even in that, unless she truly was long-lived as a dragon). She feels silenced by the "deafness" of the Master Windkey, something similar to her description of when she met the other mages (which included Aspen) after Ogion's death. She says but at least there is now a King, "'In whom our hope and trust are well founded,' the mage said with a warmth that became him well."
Tenar takes time to mention the evils that have seemingly sprung up, like the gangs, like what happened with Therru, like the "...men and women of power..." that have had their power wane or change. The mage puts this on Cob (the antagonist from the last book, from the dry lands) and says it will take time to "...[repair] our art, [heal] our wizards and our wizardry...." Tenar says maybe this is part of something that was already changing ("...a great change..."), that even maybe the fact that the power is shifting from the Master wizards' counsel to a central king is a symptom of this. The Master Windkey reacts to this, almost literally, like casting a spell against a stormcloud, and Tenar is now sure that he can't hear her (can't hear any woman since his mother last sang to him). She puts down his promise of Roke and the Art Magic enduring with a mention of Kalessin (who arrived unfettered in Roke despite one of its legendary claims being its maybe singular protection from dragons). He apologies because he, '...spoke as to an ordinary woman.' "'My fears are ordinary fears.'" "But the young king was silent, listening."
Arrival at a town is announced, it is up to the skillful to sail the ship around the people and not, denying to, the Master Windkey. Tenar instinctually looks for her son's, Flint's, ship and tells Lebannen a little about him (they are little alike, and yet she thought she saw him in Labannen). With the Master Windkey gone they share a bit of a shorthand--"ordinary fear"--and stammers that while there might not be a woman for them now there might be a woman yet for them yet. She says this in kind of a "Isn't that right, no?" way and he answers, "'It may be.'"
Tenar asks Lebannen what this ship is called in case her son asks and it is of course named the Dolphin. She sees Labannen as her son, still. Tenar tells him that she will collect Therru and walk home after staying with her daughter, Apple, in Valmouth. Ged's name is unsaid, but when asked if the wizards of Roke will continue to look for him: "'That, if they propose again, I will forbid,' Lebannen said, not realizing how much he told her in those three words.' But in searching for a new archmage they might come to her again. She says they, and he, are welcome to, and Lebannen says, "'I will come when I can,' he said, a little sternly; and a little wistfully, 'if I can.'"

Everyone that had a mischance to encounter Grandcheeseburguer Footlettuce probably heard of someone named "Pedro," specifically "Pedro Henrique Bicca Vasconsellos." I always say that he's a fucking idiot, but why? Who is he? What does he do? I'm not explaining personal shit like address, age, appearance, and other shit, but I'm going to say his acts. Before reading this testament of doom, you need to know that he has little-to-no anxiety; this is a factor that contributes to his freedom in school. And everything that he said is in Portuguese, but I'll translate.
Number one: in August 2023, I skipped school because of something probably cold. There was a guy named V (not going to say his name), V was a fearless person and Pedro started to fucking bothering the shit out of V got pissed at him, so Pedro started yapping so hard with him, that randomly he throwed a fucking chair at him. This day there was no teacher, so the monitor (which is a teacher that are in the classroom to take care of autistic kids) was there. Pedro started a fight and it was a chair war, there was chair flying every-fucking-where, almost hit a girl that was there (she left the school then), V retaliated then Pedro throwed a tantrum and later they were fighting out of the classroom. Pedro throwed a brick at him and luckily missed. V came to school everyday, but Pedro was attending a therapist and found out that he had anxiety, he neglected himself and didn't take the meds, however the principal was defending him because of his meds, he even assumed that he doesn't take the meds and it was so good to take because he could do whatever he wants, what a pathetic cunt.
Number two - There was a part 2 of this inciddent, but it was because Pedro was throwing paper balls at him (and laughing), and V got pissed again, after that, there was never a fight against both but Pedro jokes about the fight and provoked V, until he left the school.
Number three - There was an incident, Pedro was walking around probably skipping class in the bathroom, and found a child, Idk the reason but he beat the fuck out of the child and hehis (the child's) father was there and the father got pissed and argued with him, but Pedro also beat the shit out of the father, he didn't got even a suspension, he chilled out at the school's computer and got back to the classroom, pff..
Number four - There was a teacher we had that was actually very old, 65 years old, she yelled at Pedro to not chat with the other students, and guess what? Pedro got so pissed that he fucking throwed a tantrum, showed the middle finger, called her a bitch and the teacher got so scared that she was moving slowly to the principal, nothing happened with him, but she left the school.
Number five - There was also a tantrum, in start of 2023, he got pissed at a teacher because she said to him that he needed another copybook because he was split in two subjects (i don't know if there's on another countries, but here in Brazil if the family can't afford another copybook, they need to split between to two and three subjects in one copybook), so, he got pissed, showed middle finger, said to the teacher fuck off, and guess what happened to him... yes, nothing. This was before he was diagnosed with anxiety, as person with actual anxiety, I think that his "anxiety" is just his bitch personality.
Number six - Wow, another tantrum? It was this year, some days ago though. Yeah, the history teacher said that he was using phone in classroom, he hided his phone so fast, and he yelled at the teacher, throwed his bag against the floor and yelled "SEE, THERE'S NO PHONE HERE MOTHERFUCKER" and almost beated the shit out of the teacher but he missed, called him an insect and a shithead, he left then and never came back, only on the exit time, there was another tantrum with the same teacher but I can't remember at all. Also he skipped class and played football after that tantrum.
There's so much more but I'm lazy to write

Tl;dr Version for anyone who doesn't want to read a bit of a rant: This game is way too damn greedy. <--
Important Edit: I'm new to reddit but guess I'm just not allowed to talk because I have slightly negative Karma? I'll just try to edit this as I see more and more comments I can't respond to, or DM if you feel like it ig.
Some Various disclaimers and background information before the rant:

1. No, this is post is not to shame people who aren't FTP. Do what you want with your money, I just want to explain why I don't think I'll ever support this game financially and see how the rest of the community feels. This is also not some propaganda to get you to either not spend money or stop spending money, or in other words by all means keep supporting Shift-Up and their products, do you boo.
2. I'm not the biggest gacha game player, I've only played two prior to this (Girls Frontline and some Star Wars one), both that I did end up throwing a little money at to support them despite Nikke ultimately being more fun imo (just to show no, I'm not against in game purchases for free games out of principle). Big bold letters here tho incase you missed it: I HAVE PLAYED GACHA GAMES BEFORE
3. I do enjoy this game and don't imagine I'll stop playing any time soon, as far as phone games go this is probably the most fun I've had (not the highest bar to set, I know). More big bold letters, because I know you like them (icky small letters go away >: ( I DO LIKE THIS GAME
4. I understand that ultimately the goal of any game is to generate income, and I don't hold it against any game. Rather I have a problem with how this game "encourages" you to spend money.
5. I started playing this game during the RE:Zero collab and quickly came to this conclusion, don't know what ultimately compelled me to rant about it (maybe just one too many all blue pulls)

Okay with that out the way let's get to the meat of the issue, which can honestly be summarized to 2 main sins so hell get ready for another list I guess : ^ )
1.The top heavy nature of the roster. "When everybody's special, no one will be"- Angry animated ginger dude (rip in peace). When I first started playing this game and doing some pulls I felt like a superstar, I mean wow I'm pulling all these super rares like it's nothing, even got all my counter girls maxed out and after about ~60 pulls I've managed 2 super super rares! Then I started to notice how all these "super rares" seem to have all hit max limit break and peeked at the Nikkepedia to realize the sad truth of this game. Given my past experiences with gacha I expected maybe something like 30% of the roster to be "SSR", not 95%. What's even more baffling is that the SSR actually does have it's own subcategory of "hey, these are actually the super rare ones" with Pilgrims having a miniscule chance to pull. I didn't want to put a list inside my list ( yo dawg, heard you like lists) but there's a few reasons why I really dislike this, and it was getting more and more "massive block of text" while I typed it so sorry.
-The first and probably most readily apparent issue being that it means you're unlocking new characters at a snails pace. It feels like the intended way to unlock new characters is to throw thousands of gems/ recruit rosters at the slot machine so you can do the high quality mold to actually have a chance (more on this later) to get a new character. I realize luck is a subjective matter, and yeah I've seen posts from people bragging about pulling 4-5 SSR in a pull, but objectively speaking the other gacha games were far more generous with the unlocking of new characters.
-Secondly, and probably what I hate the most, is that these "SSR" are simply not created equally (putting aside the obvious and aforementioned "actual SSR" of the pilgrims). I'm not saying every Nikke has to be an absolute powerhouse (more on this later) but if you want to make Nikkes that are just inferior versions of other Nikkes or have kits that just straight up aren't good, I dunno chief...maybe put them in a lower tier of the roster? Hell putting aside the meta/ actually caring about the kits of your waifus let's just talk about the lore/ backstory of these characters. Matis (my favorite squad, big hearts and kisses especially for Drake), the super star hero squad and best the Missilis company has to offer? Okay sure, makes sense they're SRR. Prima Donna Nikkes that...work in the music industry for some reason? Uh okay not sure why these military bots are making music but they're famous ig so why not, SSR it is. Oh hey Absolute, Rapi's former squad and supposed elite of Elysion now that's a contender for SSR for sure. Maid for you, Nikkes that run a maid cafe...well let's make em SSR. Okay okay I shouldn't hawk on the waifu game having waifus that are character archetypes even if it makes absolutely no sense in the setting of the game but you still get the point right? You have characters that are presented to you as the cream of the crop (in other words have lore friendly reasons to be classified as SSR) thrown into the same category of rarity of characters that work in maid cafes or other random civilian jobs/ hobbies. This all putting aside the actual strength of these character's kits (Matis is pretty good at least, big hearts and kisses) I'm simply referring to the story reasons for characters to be presented as "SSR".
-Thirdly this all just reeks of some system you see in a lot of games where they use certain words to artificially make you feel more accomplished, if that makes any sense. The lowest tier (of absolute garbage) is referred to as "rare", the slightly better but ultimately still useless (<3 u Rapi/ Anne) tier is "super rare", and the bulk of the roster is "super super rare." Fellas, that's not how the word "rare" works at all. I feel like most games at least refer to their filler trash as "common" or the like so why does the game call the, in lore, mass produced no personality foot soldier Nikkes "rare"? This leads back to "SSR" having it's own category of rarity, did they realize "SSSR" would look and sound stupid so that's why Pilgrims don't have their own category? I dunno, could have called it "ultra super dooper cream your pants because you're a real winner rare" or they could have just (alongside making some of the "unworthies" a lower tier) gone with 4 tiers with a more honest and conventional naming system (common- uncommon-rare-epic) but they didn't because that doesn't trigger the dopamine in slack jawed gamer so they like you more and spend more money or whatever reason so many games use terminology that feels like patting you on the back. Almost lost my cool there, sounding a lil schizo huh? Let's move on to the other main point to save face.

1. The way progression is handled (and how that ties to the roster) "When you come to it and you can't go through it and you can't knock it down, you know that you've found the wall, the wall, the wall." -Mark Henry (still kicking, I think). Gacha games, or really most games, have parts that are for the cream of the crop. The real go getters (or go spenders) who invest a lot of time (or money) into the game and are rewarded for it. Usually these are things like raids or other limited time events, typically speaking though it's not the main story of the game that's the major hurdle for the playerbase to surmount. Typically speaking there's a slow and steady incline of requirements for players to progress through the story of a game, be it skill (let's be honest, not really a factor for gacha games) or equipment/loot, but not here. Instead you have rapidly increasing arbitrary "recommended power levels" (yes, we'll talk about this later) coupled with a massive middle finger in the form of level limit/ limit breaking in a nice package of pain and inconvenience, because I hate you for enjoying and caring about the story we wrote (which the game will proceed to spoil in events, which have a way lower bar of entry) or something idk. Jamie, pull up that list again.

-So pulling a SRR is "accomplishment" enough, pulling the same SRR 3 more times is whack crazy luck, doing that whole process 5 times is insultingly absurd (b-buh muh Kilo tho, because rip anybody who wasn't here for this event). Technically speaking there are systems in place to make this easier, but both of them are still hella rough. You can either use the wishlist feature (on the normal recruitment, and not for pilgrims) to cut out the massive bloat of SRR you don't care about and still pray on that 4% chance or you can grind out 200 total recruits to get mileage tickets to knock out one of 20 pulls you'll need in order to get pass this wall. You've already seen posts either lamenting their luck or singing praises to lord because after months people have managed this, and imo that is not a good system of progression for the main story of your game. I don't have a problem with there being content that encourages you to spend money, for heavens sake they have a "hard campaign" (which is just the same lay out of campaign maps with massively spiked up requirements with the same exact rewards as the normal story, minus the actual story part) so why not just let people enjoy the normal campaign. It comes off as a really cheap and scummy way to encourage people to spend money, holding the story of your game hostage. Just lower the requirements of the normal campaign, I'm sure older players don't have the "naw these new players need to suffer like I suffered" mentality, nobody is going to be mad at you.
-Oh yeah, recommended power levels. A lot of games have the system of "increase your number to keep up with the enemies increasing number" but none of those feels like a slap in the face as this game's system of "you'll either meet this required number or we'll just nerf your damage to the ground" (evidently the exact percentage of this used to be a lot worse before they patched it, further proof that the playerbase isn't against the game being made more accessible). This is probably the part where the Nikke superfan tells me I just have a massive skill issue and it's totally possible to clear these missions at a deficit, and this is absolutely true. I've seem some superstars talking about clearing levels while under 20k or more the recommended amount (I've only managed 10k, all thanks to Crown whom I love and cherish) and you know what the secret to success is? I just hinted at it in those parenthesis but it comes down to pulling "the right" SSR Nikkes. Okay that's a little disingenuous , as there's a little bit of skill/ understanding of the games system involved and grinding out the various resources you need to level said actually good SSR Nikkes, but it doesn't change the fact that there are Nikkes you actually want if you care about progressing through the game and there's all the ones you don't that seemingly only exist to reduce your chances of pulling these Nikkes. Let's backtrack to that "wishlist" system for a bit, which is what is intended to make sure you get the (non pilgrim) Nikkes you want like Liter or Tia. You'll recall that the wishlist doesn't increase your total chance to pull a SRR (makes sense) but just ensures that you only pull the designated SSR, but the problem is this only applies to this normal pulling. It is still my opinion that most of the SSR you're gonna get are going to come from the various molds, which cleverly has no such system of wishliting (because let's be honest, this would probably destroy any incentive to pay money for people who don't care about costumes). So you're either dealing with a system of most likely not getting any SSR from normal pulling or having a slim chance of pulling the SSR you need (assuming you even pull a SSR to begin with) with the mold, neither of which sound too appealing to me
-Speaking of molds, and this probably going to be my most controversial take (or at the least the most demanding), it is blatantly unfair that high quality and company molds aren't a guaranteed SSR. In the case of of the high quality mold the process of getting one is slow enough (I maybe manage 1 a week, outside of events or CD redemption that may give more) and there are enough SSR (putting aside the fact that you want to pull the same SSR multiple times anyway) that I really don't think it would be that bad if you just don't let us get kicked in the gut by pulling Neon after all that effort. In the case of the company specific molds from the tribe towers you are quite literally hard limited to pulling 3-7 a day (assuming of course you have a squad capable of tackling the tower), and you're going to make them have an even lower total chance of a SSR than the normal high quality mold. I'm only half way to my pilgrim mold (I had to wait till crown before I even felt like starting the tower, because even doing the easiest levels is mind numbing with just one Nikke) but I've heard horror stories of going 5 pilgrim molds with no pilgrim in sight, and ngl I may just weep when it's my turn to experience that. If you want to further reduce the acquisition of molds to still encourage some spending that's fine by me, but please let us have some safety net in this ruthless Nikke grind.
That's pretty much it for the rant so I just want to finish with some closing thoughts. I really do like this game, honest, and I wouldn't mind supporting it if it just didn't make me feel so used and abused. There are plenty of games with microtransactions or additional content where it feels like you're buying them because you want to support the dev, not because it feels like they're holding a gun to your head, and I just want this game to feel more like the former. I'm happy to discuss this rant further if anybody has their own ideas and opinions (or even if people just want to defend the game) so let me know what yall think, assuming you even read that blob of text up there.

Last weekend I had my first road bike race (90k/1300m) in my life which was a really great experience, although I was not finishing in a good place. (somewhere in the middle, there was like 1000 people there)
I'm thinking to do other bike races in the future, so I'd have a few questions:

• I was eating 4 gels in total, which was optimal when it comes to the energy level, but I had really strong cramps, which is happening a lot of times when I'm eating energy gels. I always pay attention drink enough water on that, so I don't think that can be a reason. Maybe I just pushed too hard? Or any other idea?
• Also how to eat gels that your fingers are not super sticky afterwards?😅
• I was also drafting behind some people, to get some "rest" but I couldn't overtake them to give it back, because I was out of energy, so I'm not sure how much I was an asshole in this situation.
• What would be a low hanging fruit to increase my pace and fitness to be faster next time?

Galicia, a land of verdant landscapes and a rich culinary tradition, hides a sweet treasure that goes far beyond the famous Tarta de Santiago. Get ready to discover a world of flavors and textures that will delight your palate and transport you to the very essence of this magical land.
Freixós and Filloas: The Galician Crepes You'll Fall in Love With
Did you know that Galicia has its own crepes? Known as freixós and filloas in Galician, and frisuelos in Spanish, these delights share similarities with Breton crepes, but with a unique and special touch. Thin, light, and with a subtle vanilla flavor, they are usually served sprinkled with sugar, although they can also be filled with sweet or savory fillings.
Tarta de Santiago: A Classic with History
We can't talk about Galician desserts without mentioning the iconic Tarta de Santiago. This dense and moist almond cake, adorned with the characteristic Cross of Saint James in powdered sugar, is a must-have on any visit to the region. Its origin dates back to the Middle Ages, and its recipe has been passed down from generation to generation, becoming a symbol of Galician culture.
Beyond the Known: Other Sweet Treasures to Discover
But Galicia has much more to offer in the world of desserts. From filloas filled with pastry cream or chocolate, to melindres, puff pastries bathed in honey, to rosquillas de anis (anise cookies), sequillos (dry biscuits), and bica, a spongy cake typical of the Ourense area.
A Sweet Journey Through Galicia
We invite you to embark on a gastronomic journey through Galicia, where each bite will reveal the richness and diversity of its traditional pastries. Discover the best-kept secrets of Galician sobremesas (after-dinner conversations) and let yourself be seduced by the authenticity and flavor of its desserts.
Would you like to try them?