Link to AO3
chapters 1&2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
The Academy looked normal enough from the distance but blew Gentry’s mind when she finally entered it. First of all, the way in lay through a massive winter garden full of the most luxurious botanical collection she’s ever seen. Not only that, but it seemed to be arranged in a way that offered spaces for hanging out as well as paths in and out. Here and there, G noticed little nooks with people’s voices coming from them and small murmuring streams gleamed in the sun that blazed through the transparent walls and roof. This place looked magical and invited to stay, enjoy the refreshing coolness and peace of mind. But Gentry had a good enough rest in her communal room the night before and was eager to start working on her first assignment that the System had spat out with a congratulating letter. Figuring out the controls of her new wristcomm was simple enough.
DEAR GENTRY!
WE ARE DELIGHTED TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU ARE THE FIRST CONTESTANT TO CLEAR ALL CHALLENGES AND OBTAIN THE STATUS OF AN ASHTAPADAN NEWCOMER! YOUR MEDICAL DATA HAS BEEN ANALYSED AND FOUND ACCEPTABLE.
IN THE ATTACHMENT TO THIS LETTER YOU WILL FIND A LIST OF RULES, RECOMMENDATIONS AND IDEAS THAT WILL DEFINITELY HELP YOU IN THE FIRST WEEKS IN OUR BEAUTIFUL CITY BUT WE STRONGLY RECOMMEND FINDING A BUDDY THAT WOULD BE YOUR MAIN GUIDE AND POTENTIALLY A NEW GREAT FRIEND! IT CAN BE ANY CITIZEN OR A MORE EXPERIENCED NEWCOMER.
YOUR CURRENT POINTS: 0
WHY NOT START EARNING SOME WITH YOUR FIRST ASSIGNMENT?
START ANY BEGINNER COURSE AT THE ACADEMY AND KEEP YOUR ATTENDANCE RATE OVER 80% — WORTH 50 POINTS
(OPTIONAL) FIND SOMEBODY WHO IS WILLING TO BECOME YOUR BUDDY — WORTH 20 POINTS
Without stopping to check if the vending machines offered anything good, G made her way through the dreamy garden and entered the inner yard that looked just like everything here: nothing too eye-catching at first glance but secrets hidden everywhere.
One thing she had already noticed was that most of the people had another piece of technology on their bodies besides the comm on their wrists: a sort of extendable visor that some of them kept engaged at all times. Those who were focused on the screen had a comical look on their faces, a thousand-mile stare, eyes wide even as they were talking to each other or going about their business. It was unclear yet why they would engage the screen for so long though. No one needed this much time to read a notification or check a map.
Take a group of young students by the fountain, for example. They seemed deep in conversation with each other yet their pupils didn’t focus on the person in front, but on the translucent screen over the top part of their faces. Was it some kind of virtual reality helmet?
If so, G needed one, too.
Perhaps she’d be able to make new friends this way.
There was something else that caught Gentry’s eye. Despite her initial disappointment about the severe lack of male hotness in the streets, people of both sexes seemed to really care about their appearance. Even those who probably weren’t naturally stunning were very interesting to look at not least because of the crazy fashion sense everyone here had. Never before had G seen so much variety in what everyone wore: countless variations on different national garments, some looking very traditional, like something one could see in a theatre, some — futuristic uniforms straight out of a sci-fi movie. It didn’t seem like anyone was concerned with gender norms here, too. At least in when it came to the outfits.
G hoped she didn’t look like a creepy stalker when her gaze lingered on a pair of very nicely shaped legs stretching from underneath a plaid skirt that belonged to a young man in the group sat by the edge of the water. A pair of snow-white knee-highs, flat loafers and neat raven hair with some blue streaks completed the image. His clothes fit him very well and weren’t inappropriate in the least: something an old money university student would wear.
A female student that is.
And he wasn’t alone. Here and there, among more conventionally dressed people, there were people wearing all sorts of things: a crazy mix of goth-like apparel but barefoot, men and women with heads covered with scarves, people in strange jewelery that looked like it weighed a ton and so on. Most importantly, no one seemed to care what the others looked like.
Was it paradise? Looks like the demo didn’t lie: it was heaven on earth.
The young man in the middle of the student gaggle caught her staring after all. With a dazzling smile, he waved in her direction as if they were great friends, and G waved back, face heating, hoping there wasn’t anyone behind her this tease was actually waving at. Thank god his shoes weren’t heeled, otherwise she would definitely have a heart attack right here, in the middle of the common area, on her first day.
Did he notice her ogling his legs? Judging by the giggles of his friend's entourage, they all did. The young flirt covered his mouth, eyes wide in mock indignation and pulled his knees in, as if hiding them from the improper attention, getting even more laughter from the rest of the company. G averted her eyes and tried to calm her breathing as she was on her way through the yard again, but before they all disappeared from her field of view, she noticed the coquette stretch his legs again and fall back on a friend of his, embracing the lucky man’s neck in an affectionate gesture, already forgetting G existed.
There was no way she wasn’t going to make some pretty boy do the same for her. Forget the assignment, put that in the list of her top priorities!
At first, Gentry was lost when she failed to find any kind of class schedule and there was no one to ask at the reception desk.
Why have a reception desk if nobody’s on duty?
Soon, however, it occurred to her that there was no schedule: each room within the wide marble corridors had a small display with a handwritten message scribbled on it.
Bachata for beginners
Product engineering (Tuesday class cancelled)
Colloidal chemistry (revision today)
None of these were the Communications course that Jey was talking about, but the variety definitely made G’s eyebrows go up.
Was she just supposed to barge into any class and sign up? Did she have to sign up later if she liked the subject? Was it ok to choose any?
After some wandering around, too scared to just walk in uninvited or ask others for directions, she finally stumbled across the door saying:
Communication & decision making course (Newcomers welcome)
With the desks arranged in a horseshoe and the people of various ages that were also apparently Newcomers, it all seemed comfortably casual. Everyone was chatting as she walked in, paying G no mind so she busied herself with the wristcomm that dinged at exactly the right time to save her the embarrassment of looking for a desk.
Would you like to enroll in this course? Scroll down to read the description.
Was this damn thing a spying device? Did it just know which room she was in? Jey didn’t joke when she said the little thing was going to be her primary aid!
“Are you looking for somewhere to sit?” called a young red-haired woman at one of the paired desks. “Here, this one is free.” She had the auglasses on, like everyone else, but they were off, showing her lively face and a pair of sharp green eyes.
“Thanks,” G said, gratefully taking the offer. “I’m new here, don’t know how things work yet.”
“It’s alright, the course is very engaging, you’ll love it.” — the woman held out a hand — “I’m Sereen, what’s your name?”
G shook the warm palm. “It’s Gentry. And by new I mean I’m new to Ashtapada, not just the course. Literally arrived yesterday.”
“Really?” — S looked surprised — “Everything must be very confusing!”
“You have no idea,” G smiled. “I’m glad someone understands. Everyone’s friendly but acts as if giant mechanical dogs in the streets and a moss garden in the lobby are the most normal things ever.”
“Don’t worry, I was just like you when I first arrived, you’ll get the hang of it soon.”
“Hope so! Is that the lecturer?”
“Shhh...”
Just like everything else in Ashtapada, the lecture started out normal enough only to unfold into something completely alien to how things were normally done.
Apparently, the Communications course involved learning rationality, debating, logic, etiquette and god knew what else. It was supposed to give the future citizens tools to, well, communicate. G was given a booklet with some ground rules for beginners that included entries that sounded like something Sun Tzu would say if he studied debating instead of warcraft.
“The purpose of any argument is not to win it and not to change the other disputant’s mind. It’s to find the truth.”
“Always argue in good faith.”
“Don’t attack your opponent.”
“If attacked, dismiss the attack as if it didn’t happen.”
Well, hopefully, it only meant verbal attacks! G knew too well that when it came to physical violence, it was hard to ignore it.
Most of the rules looked straightforward enough, some were confusing.
“Seek challenge to your convictions. Avoid echo chambers.”
“Don’t seek being right.”
“Be mindful of your audience including yourself.”
“Avoid “Empty arguments” that don’t bring everyone closer to the goal of finding the truth.”
The lecturer, a willowy man of about sixty that drowned in his tweed jacket, started the class with a bit of small talk with the regulars after distributing the booklets to all first-timers. He made sure to give it to G face down so that his photo under the “About the author” title didn’t go unnoticed. He also made most of the “talk” part himself.
“I never took part in a debate,” G told Sereen, who was patiently waiting for the class to begin. “And never seen anything like these rules. Is it actually useful?”
“Oh, believe me, professor Poe will be ecstatic to talk to you about them. He can’t not start discussing his subject at the slightest provocation. Look.” — she raised her hand — “Professor, how was your weekend?”
The man wearily smiled. “That might seem like a meaningless question, Sereen, but it’s actually very much related to the topic we are going to cover today.”
“See?” — S raised her eyebrows with a suppressed smile. G giggled. This promised to be interesting.
“Our friend Sereen is a very polite person, isn’t she?” — Poe smiled at the class but his eyes glided over everyone’s faces, gaze turned inwards like he was reading an invisible text written on the walls. “But as kind as she is, I don’t think she’s actually interested in how my weekend went. Small talk is just a social custom we engage in to strengthen our social relations. Why don’t we just start a day by saying “Hi! I value our relationship and would like to fulfill my societal role!” to everyone we know? I would definitely prefer THAT over the small talk! He-he!”
The audience laughed politely. The guy seemed alright.
“However, just as we use different tools to fulfill this role in different contexts, so can the context of a logical problem steer our thinking towards a rational, that is, right, and an irrational, that is, wrong, answer.”
“Well, that’s not a given,” Gentry mumbled under her breath but it went unnoticed by S, who was already immersed in the lecture.
“Consider the famous René Descartes’s quote "Cogito, ergo sum". Who can translate it from Latin?” — the board behind the thin, almost transparent man glowed, displaying the words.
“Is it really a Beginner’s course?” G asked Sereen in a low voice but her companion was already raising her hand, together with a dozen other students.
“I think, therefore I am,” she said after a curt nod of the lecturer’s permission.
“Very good,” he continued, pleased. “I taught you well. Those of you who attend my lectures regularly are familiar with the notion of solipsism, which states that the only thing we can be sure about is our own thoughts.”
Gentry looked at S with raised eyebrows.
If this is an introductory course, what was the advanced like?
Sereen didn’t seem to perplexed. She was fully following the thread.
“However,” professor Poe said. “I am going to challenge that notion by demonstrating that we can’t trust our own mind when it comes to perceiving reality.”
He looked at the audience with a quizzical eye, and pointed at Gentry with a long bony finger “You, new girl. I want you to close your eyes.”
Why her?
Gentry was only happy to hide behind her eyelids. No doubt the whole room was now staring at her.
Through the blood rushing in her ears, she heard the old man’s voice, “Who was sitting beside you before you closed your eyes?”
“My new friend Sereen,” G answered and heard a little gasp of appreciation from the woman.
“So you know she existed as long as you two were whispering behind my back. However, now that you can’t see or hear her. How do you know she exists?”
“Well, I can reach with my hand and touch her,” Gentry said, demonstrating.
“Yes, this is what most people answer,” Poe said. “You can open your eyes now. But let me ask you this: how would you know it was her, an not some other person that took her place?”
Gentry’s intuition was right: everyone was staring, as if waiting for her answer.
“Well, I suppose— ”
“Hush, it was a rhetorical question,” the professor cut her off. “The correct answer is that you can’t know that. We think we can trust our senses or at least our thoughts, but this is also false. Everyone, look out of the window.”
Everyone did.
The day was as fine as Gentry was annoyed.
What did this pops think of himself?
“I’d ask what you see, but I already know the answer,” he went on. “All of you would say “the sky”. And all of you would be wrong, because sky doesn’t exist. We only see the endless emptiness of the outer space, but perceive it as a blue dome. It’s an illusion, a phantom, born out of our collective unconscious.”
Sereen whispered, lost in the lecture, “Ah, yes, Carl Jung.”
What?
Was it supposed to be obvious?
“But listen to this,” he continued, voice booming like a demiurge’s in the completely silent room. “Listen to this. How many words is it? Listentothis. Our common sense says it’s three words while in reality it’s just a string of sounds I an producing with my mouth. I am literally making you hallucinate the spaces between the words I’m saying. With knowing that our perception is so flawed, how can we know that we even know how to think?”
“I’m sorry, professor, I disagr...” G started but got struck down by his serrated gaze.
“I’ll invite questions at the end, young miss,” he chopped out.
Sereen’s eyes were sympathetic. It looked like most if not all of professor Poe’s students had learned not to interrupt him.
He went on, “Anyway, the fact that you even understand what I am saying is in itself incredible and shouldn’t be possible.”
“But it IS possible, right?” G whispered to Sereen. “I mean, aren’t we understanding this as he speaks?”
“PLEASE refrain from talking unless asked!” professor Poe roared.
Impressive lung capacity for such a frail human being!
G begrudgingly did as she was told. The guy seemed to be enjoying this power trip a bit too much to her taste.
“Now, since most of you,” he put some emphasis on the word to shut up another pair of whispering students. “Most of you think you comprehend my words, you must know that there is a way to tell that something is real, even though we can’t rely on our senses for perception. I’m giving you a minute to discuss with your partners what it might be.”
G considered it. She and Sereen exchanged equally confused glances.
Like a dutiful student, S started summarising Poe’s arguments but Gentry listened with only half an ear. She felt that behind all this over-thinking was a clear and simple answer.
She watched the professor walk along the aisles, tuning into one or another conversation before leaving each with a smug head shake of disapproval.
What was there to think about? Even if they didn’t see the world precisely as it was, something was definitely real, right? The chair she felt under her buttocks, the air around, the low murmur of the students. The annoying professor that… looked a little too translucent.
Gentry waited for the man to approach their desks and tune into Sereen’s musings. As he came so near they could reach out and touch him, Gentry did just that.
To her utter shock, her hand went through the old jacket and sent a wave of static over the professor’s figure, his whole form glitching and flickering.
Professor Poe was a hologram!
Unable to help herself, Gentry said, “No wonder you don’t think anything is real, Professor, you are hardly real yourself!”
The whole roomful of people stared, transfixed, at the surreal scene of a student’s arm disappearing into the teacher’s abdomen.
Gentry looked back at Sereen in search of support.
Was it laughter in her eyes?
Poe’s blood drained from his face, the mouth slacked open, twitching as if trying to form some words, but none came out.
Sereen chimed in, “You never told us you were a simulation, Professor.”
“Out!” Poe gritted lowly so that no one really heard him.
“I’m sorry?” G asked, innocently.
“Out of my class!” he exploded, jumping out of Gentry’s reach with an enraged grimace. “I am as real as you are!”
G stood up and looked at her hand then back at Professor Poe.
How much rage could storm in those watery eyes?
Then, she winked at her new friend.
“Let’s go then, shall we?” she said.
Sereen looked lost for a second, her eyes darting pack and forth between Gentry and Poe. Then, her gaze seemed to cloud a little, as if she retreated into her own head, but when she resurfaced, she nodded with a mischievous smile.
Both young women left the room, the classmates’ sympathetic silence and Poe’s angry seething seeing them off.
***
“What a way to start my first day,” Gentry said. “My hands are still trembling a bit.”
She and S were calming their nerves in the green winter garden, the soothing sound of the little running streamlet at their feet a welcome distraction.
“Believe it or not, his course is actually quite useful,” Sereen laughed. “Who would have thought the old Poe is actually not human? I guess we never thought of poking him in the stomach before. This is going to be the talk of the Academy for the next month or so!”
“Is it? I feel bad now. I guess I’m not getting any points for attending this lecture, right?” — Gentry checked her wristcomm — “It says “zero progress” and something else… ad.. Honi… adhonim…”
Sereen laughed, “Yeah, you adhominem’ed good old Poe, no wonder you got zero credit!”
“What does it mean?”
“You’ve seen the rules of learning and discourse, right?” S said. “There are no-nos, things that aren’t allowed, especially when it comes to Rationality classes and the like. Ad Hominem means an attack on the speaker, not their argument. It isn’t exactly what you did, but I guess it’s the closest thing!”
“Ad Hominem, huh,” G said. “Well, I guess I deserve it then. Thanks for standing by me.”
If it wasn’t for Sereen, G wasn’t sure she would be going to return to the Academy any time soon!
“You just chose a wrong course as your first class, G,” — no doubt about that! — “But another lecturer who works here is much more open-minded and he also teaches Rationality. I think you’ll enjoy him more than our old Poe. His next class is in a couple of days. Wanna come?”
***
DEAR GENTRY!
CONGRATULATIONS ON COMPLETING AN OPTIONAL ASSIGNMENT! 20 POINTS HAVE BEEN ADDED TO YOUR STATUS COUNTER.

We are thinking of building a pergola. We live in north Florida. I want to do a cleatranslucent roof over the wooden beams. Something that will filter so light.
I have seen “cover your pergola” are there any other bands or materials you would consider using?
Thanks all

First/Previous
“No! Jack!” Sephy cried out as she saw them fall, quickly swapping to her plasma rifle to try and give him some covering fire.
“Sephy! Enemies close!” Nika warned with a yell as she blasted a gutter punk that had tried to rush her, destroying the left part of the amphibian’s torso with a powerful shotgun blast that stopped him dead.
“Shit!” The Skritta cursed as she dove into cover on the opposite side of the alcove as plasma blasts zipped over her head, pummelling the plastered walls where she had just been standing and spitting up dust. Scrambling to her feet and unclipping her plasma rifle she blind fired around the corner, not caring who was on the other side as she bought Alora and Chiyo time to use their powers.
Dante barked loudly, as a dome of the most translucent sparkling blue settled over the girls. Recognising it as the same kind of shield the ‘dog’ had summoned when they were ambushed by the Red Legion aspirants on the way back from the Oracle, the Skritta grit her teeth as her brain caught up to what had been pure instinct. Holy shit this was bad!
Chancing a peek around the corner she could see a scrum for the stairs as a few of the more sober and less combative-looking patrons wisely decided to make their escape while they could, meaning that the stairs were clear enough to descend quickly if she and the others could get there. Unfortunately the path to get there was packed with many, many more of the rougher-looking mercenaries, gangsters and other toughs fired up by what was going on!
“ERE WE GO BOYZ!” A loud drunken voice yelled out from somewhere nearby. “WAAAAAAAGH!”
As two heavy-armoured Xarak wearing purple gang symbols charged into a group of avians wearing green, the resulting drunken brawl quickly escalated like wildfire into a full-blown melee, drawing nearby bystanders into the mix as drinks were spilled, bottles were smashed and bodies hit the floor.
‘Shit, getting out won’t be easy.’ The Skritta thought to herself, before suddenly getting an idea as she looked to the overhead turrets that looked like they were powering up.
“Cover me!” She called back to the others, as a translucent AR feed highlighted her vision to reveal the poorly maintained and vandalised local Matrix. Looking around the display, she could see poorly coded glitches rampant throughout the area making it difficult to perceive the local connections, with what looked like years of virtual graffiti scrawled everywhere else.
‘I’m surprised that any electronics work here…’ Sephy thought to herself, sending a scouting program to work out what she had to work with, while in the real world she moved to the balcony to try and look for Jack. She couldn’t see anything through the chaos and her view of the Matrix before she had to duck down back into cover as several plasma blasts were sent her way from the opposite side.
A quick blip from her scouting program told her that it had found what she was looking for, and Sephy wasted no time as she switched her view to that of her scouting program, holding back the nauseous sensation caused by the sudden perception shift, as almost immediately she had to focus on bringing her defensive programs to bear as several hostile nodes honed in to attack her.
‘What the fuck? These IC are way too powerful for a place like this!’ Sephy thought to herself as she backed away, maintaining her defences and cursing the fact that she couldn’t fully fade into the Matrix to speed things up. Looking up, Sephy saw the connections for the local turrets defended by a wall of advanced Blocker IC too advanced to be part of the local system, and she also saw the reason.
‘Oh you motherfucker!’
Hiding behind the defences, Sephy spotted a shrouded ghost-like shape by the turret connections, working an intrusion program on them to bring the turrets under their control.
Another slicer was already in the system!
As she sent a data bomb their way, the defences quickly acted to protect their charge, intercepting the digital attack and exploding in a debris of code lines and pixels. Turning around, the other slicer grinned as his hack of the turrets continued automatically, indicating that he was fully sliced into the local Matrix.
“Ah, yes. We were informed that the outsider had a slicer amongst his group.” The figure cruelly cackled, though Sephy was unable to tell their species or gender due to them both being in cyberspace. “I would normally tell you to surrender, but our Lictor gave us orders to eliminate every single one of you. But hey, if you’re lucky you’ll be alive long enough for me and the boys to run a train on you and your friends while you stare at the Outsider’s bloody, broken corpse. What do you say?” The form gave a wicked grin even as he knew the answer, summoning more Defender IC.
“Go fuck yourself,” Sephy snarled as she programmed another data bomb. “Doesn’t matter if it’s cyberspace or in reality, you’re not leaving this shithole alive!”
“I doubt it!” The other slicer chuckled as they summoned more Attacker IC, easily done for them as they were fully immersed in the Matrix, unlike Sephy who was attempting it in synchronised real time as she stayed in cover in reality. “We were told you were the dumb one in the briefing, you are no match for me!”
‘That’s what you think…’ Sephy thought to herself as she tried a new plan, seeing that the other slicer was too well entrenched. Quickly pulling up her pre-prepared list of viruses she shot out her virtual hands as what looked like several paper aeroplanes shot out to go for the other slicer. They were weak, unable to do any damage to the slicer, and most were easily intercepted, but enough hit the slicer to do what she needed them to do. Just for a moment, the avatar dropped and she saw the slicer for a brief as he actually was, an obese toad-like being in some kind of uniform.
More importantly, she was able to pinpoint the exact direction and distance of his real body from her current location.
“Hah! Pathetic!” The other slicer cackled again, not noticing what Sephy’s attack had actually done. “Was that meant to hurt? Take this!”
Sephy grimaced as her Matrix defences took a heavy hit as she quickly backed out of cyberspace to return to the real world, grunting and shaking off the disorienting feeling of treading two worlds and being violently ripped back into one. Had she been fully sliced in, it could have caused her some serious injury.
“Guys! We have a problem!” She shouted back to the others, as she saw the turrets begin to swirl around to aim their way…
*****
“Dessenta!” Alora gasped as she finished the spell she had been casting, causing blurry illusionary duplicates of her, Dante and the other girls to randomly appear near them, before with another word of command she caused them to run out and scatter to hopefully confuse the enemies targeting them. Ever since the trick had worked when they fled from the Cult of the Destroyer, Alora had been practising this technique, though it was still far from a perfect distraction.
Some of the illusions ran off the balcony only to dash uselessly through the air, while others waded into the various fights that were breaking out, even going through some people as they yelped out in confusion before trying to attack them.
“We’ve got to get Jack and run!” She yelled out, though she wasn’t sure if the others could even hear her over the blazing music and the veritable moshpit that had formed on the ground floor under them. She turned to the crew of River Giants that were still with them, standing there with weapons brought to bear, but not really knowing what to do. “Where is your vessel located?” She asked them sharply.
The River Giants just stood there with a dazed look, and Alora realised they were probably in shock at seeing what just happened with Jack.
“Captain! Where?” Alora yelled, and that seemed to awaken the giants out of their stupor.
“Far right side of the docks, lass!” Captain Ripples-On-Salt spoke up hastily. “Largest vessel there, it’s called the Siltskimmer, you can’t miss it!”
“Alright.” Alora nodded, trying to remain calm. “When you get the opportunity, get away from the place and get everything ready to leave. Pull out of dock a little bit if you need to but do not leave without us. We’ll join you as soon as possible.”
“Lass, we’re not sticking around if things get bad!” The captain warned with a panicked look.
“If it spreads that far and you need to protect your people, then do so,” Alora acknowledged. “But we’re here for a reason, and our mutual friends won’t be pleased if you lose your nerve!”
“Alright, alright!” The captain nodded, raising a hand placatingly. “We’ll do what we can and wake all hands, they’ll be sleeping around this time.”
“Good!” Alora nodded. “Stay back and as far away from us as you can be, then make a break for it!”
“We can fight, you know!” One of the crew spoke up, as the captain rounded on them.
“You’re drunk off your ass Dips-In-Bog! And we have our orders! We’re not sticking around, but at least we’ll probably have to batter some fools to get out!”
Glad to have resolved that, Alora turned around to assess the situation. She could see Sephy covering the right side while she was looking up towards the turrets, no doubt trying to take them over, while Nika was holding the right, and was attracting the most amount of fire. Seeing where the shots were coming from, Alora quickly ran towards the edge of the balcony near a wooden pillar that would hopefully give her some covering fire as she quickly cast a spell.
“Pyrallis!” She yelled out as she pointed her wand at the group of enemies aiming for Nika, as a jet of fire roared out, zipping around, above and below anybody not shooting at them as it smacked into the trio on the opposite balcony that were, immolating two of them, but the third, a great hulking Balnath with a huge overgrown maw of teeth, was able to shrug it off. Alora dove to the ground as they returned fire, completely obliterating the pillar she had tried to hide behind.
‘Well that got his attention’. Alora thought to herself as she rolled to the side away from the pillar, out of sight of the Balnath as they let rip with their gatling plasma gun, though fortunately most of the wild shots had been intercepted by Dante’s shield. Waiting for the sounds and lights to dissipate, Alora quickly got to her feet and cast another spell…
*****
“Come on then you fuckers!” Nika growled after she dispatched her amphibian attacker, quickly switching to her plasma rifle as she checked her side of the balcony alcove, quickly dispatching a figure that looked like she was heading for them. Nika didn’t allow any sliver of doubt to shake her, this situation was dire enough that anyone even remotely looking like a threat to her or her friends was going down!
‘We need a way out, Sephy has the stairs.’ The Kizun thought to herself as she spotted a sharpshooter on the opposite balcony far too assured of themselves to be just an ordinary patron, an assumption that was proven correct as they moved to take aim at Sephy, before a burst from Nika smacked into him and threw their aim wide, though didn’t finish them.
‘They’ve got good armour, maybe shields too, these guys are professionals.’ Nika concluded, though grinned as she spotted a group of some blue-feathered avian species mob the sharpshooter, clearly looking to grab their weapon in the midst of all the chaos. ‘Stairs were at the back of the building, so my way leads to the front. Maybe we can blast a way out and jump down? That plan worked out for us before…’
She contemplated the idea, knowing that she hadn’t taken as many breaching charges as she normally would for an urban mission, having dismissed the need to have as many in a rural environment, but she had one on her just in case, with a couple more distributed among a few of the others. However, the building they were in wasn’t the most structurally sound, and she had a real fear that enough damage could bring it crashing down above their heads!
The decision was taken away from her, as from one of the far alcoves ahead of her, a group of three strangely uniformed soldiers of some kind advanced towards her, with the Kizun having no doubt they were enemies, as two of them carried tall, broad riot shields locked into place, while the third shot at her with an accurate burst, cracking her shield and thumping into her heavy armour as she retreated. Where had these guys come from? She could have sworn she hadn’t seen anyone in uniform, but realised that, like them, their opponents may have been in disguise and had needed to quickly gear up before engaging.
Immediately, Nika reached to her belt for a grenade, electing for a smaller yield as she activated the timer and waited a few seconds before flinging it back from cover with a well-practised blind throw, sending it bouncing and clattering in a straight line before detonating right on target. Grinning with the roar, she dashed out from cover, going full auto as she unleashed hell, keeping low as she pushed forward, not letting up as she saw one of the shield guys drop to the ground while another couldn’t hold on, stumbling and falling back down the freshly blown hole caused by the grenade, which must have slipped under the shields and taken out the third guy.
And as she looked at the freshly blown hole, she realised now they had a quick way down!
*****
Those are Regulators! Chiyo warned, though she had no idea if any of her friends were paying attention as the Ilithii drew her power in to assist Dante in maintaining an energy barrier, before taking out her magic staff and channelled her power to lash out with psionic power at whoever she could detect down below, sensing that they were going after Jack. She heard her friends acting and knew she had to do everything in her power to get them all out in one piece!
Sensing a lot of magical energy flaring up, Chiyo activated her astral sight to check what was happening, and cursed as she did. There was a lot of ambient mana dissipating in the air from several illusionary spells, likely from their attackers, and she detected three strong signatures in particular, and two of them were situated on the ground floor.
The third was on the other balcony!
Responding to the imminent threat, Chiyo focused on her attack as she saw the astral form of the physically obscured wizard on the other side of the room whispering words of power and weaving their hands in strange patterns for a complicated spell of some kind that didn’t look good.
Her meditations with the Essence of Water they had looted from the Pallid Pit had proved fruitful as she had quickly learned to combine her new affinity with her existing psychic powers to weave together some new tricks, her most basic one coming into play as she quickly drew in the ambient water from all around them to cluster in one great ball, before launching several blasts that shot out to catch the enemy mage completely off guard, battering their body and cracking several ribs, causing them to flail back and, more importantly, completely disrupting whatever spell they were trying to cast.
The enemy mage appeared physically as their illusion mask was dispelled, revealing a diminutive blue furry mammalian with a long, thin snout in a set of traveller's robes with the insignia she recognised as belonging to the Order of the Infernal Harmony. Chiyo saw them angrily motion at her, ordering several more Regulators on the other side of the building to aim at her.
‘Well, I’m flattered…’ Chiyo thought to herself as she put more of her energy into maintaining her personal shields and hunkered down to avoid the gunfire, which took some of the heat off Nika, before the inevitable explosion went off several seconds later.
“We’ve got a quick way down!” Nika called back after dashing back to them, a sentiment that Chiyo quickly repeated to Alora to get past the deafening noise.
“Understood!” Alora shouted. “Chiyo?”
Lead your crew to the left and drop down the hole, the Ilithi told the River Giants, imbedding the thoughts directly into their minds over the noise. We shall follow promptly. Get everything ready for a quick exit. We’ll cover you, go now!
Quickly nodding in agreement, the band of River Giants needed little prompting to run the fuck away from the ongoing shitstorm while the group covered for them, with Chiyo unleashing her power and levitating a Regulator from behind an overturned table, only for Nika to cut them down mercilessly with plasma fire.
“Guys! We have a problem!” Sephy yelled in a panic. “They have control of the turrets! I can’t take them back from here!”
We’ve got to get off this balcony! Chiyo warned the others. Nika has an exit! We’ve-
But then she sensed it.
Scatter! Now! She warned as the entire balcony suddenly collapsed violently from under them…
*****
With a roar, Jack braced for impact as the ground rushed up to meet him with terrifying speed as he struggled with The Redeemer, before they both collided with the dancefloor in a bone-jarring smash, breaking the grapple as The Redeemer slammed hard onto his back, with Jack faring little better as his shoulder took the brunt of the heavy impact, sending shockwaves of pain radiating heavily through his body. The air was knocked from his lungs as he had the presence of mind to roll away, quickly scrambling to his feet with a fierce determination as he gathered his bearings
The room span in a disorienting blue for a second as Jack blinked away the stars dancing in his eyes, but Jack could see a crowd of gangsters and mercenaries forming around him, whooping and cheering, having seen his fall but not having any idea what just happened.
“Where is he?” Jack managed to gasp, as sudden movement from the side caught his attention, springing him into action as he quickly drew his heavy rifle, dodging the Redeemer’s enraged charge at the same time as he managed to get off a risky burst of heavy plasma that caught the Redeemer dead centre of mass as they passed and crashed into a table of avian mercenaries wearing what looked like biker leathers.
“You fat cunt! You spilled my beer!” One of them squawked at the Redeemer, who simply pushed the speaker aside as he quickly assessed the hits he took, a decision he quickly regretted as Jack put another accurate burst into him, staggering him backwards with many smoking holes in his now ruined brown overcoat, but not dropping him.
“Go down you fucking wanker!” Jack growled as he levelled his gun to shoot again, before several shots smacked hard into his shoulder, sending him careening to the side in a wild spin as his shots were sent wide, blasting smoking holes through the roof that allowed the evening light to shine through as he barreled into a group of furry beings that closely resembled silverback gorillas in matching military fatigues that denoted them as part of a militia.
“Fucking kid!” One snarled as he bodily shoved Jack to the ground, flicking a telescopic baton as he approached again to try and do him more harm before Jack got his gun up.
“Back off! Back the fuck off!” He yelled in a panic as he got back to his feet, warning the gorilla-men who cautiously took several steps back as he scrambled to his feet again, as he was shoved and jostled by alien bodies writhing and thrashing around in a frenzied melee of fists, feet, tails, claws, paws, teeth and fuck knew what else.
The pulsating thudding beat of the music jarred like a rampaging heart attack to provide a rhythmic backdrop to the rapidly escalating brawl, punctuated by the gunfire, the crash of breaking glass, and the roars of the combatants locked in drunken combat as he found himself in the middle of a full-blown mosh pit.
Risking a glance to the side, he saw The Redeemer rip off the smouldering remaining scraps of his brown overcoat to reveal the dull thick metal plates of his own heavy armour. He could see that his heavy plasma rifle had done some kind of damage, though he couldn’t tell how much from the melted, blacked, smoking marks from where Jack had shot them, or if his shots had even penetrated past the layers. But he could see that the Redeemer wasn’t going to go down easily as the avian gang was piling on the Ogar, who lashed out at them with his huge powerful fists as plates extended around his neck and head for extra protection.
Suddenly, Jack caught another movement out of the corner of his eye as he spun around, before a pincer deflected the barrel of his rifle, as a spindly insectoid quickly closed the distance, hostile intent abundantly clear in their snarling expression as they snapped a pincer at Jack’s face, who ducked out of the way and shunted backwards.
‘Shit! This place is too swarmed!’ Jack cursed to himself as he tried to aim his gun through the ongoing brawl. ‘I can’t risk firing into an open crowd! The rest of these people haven’t done a thing to me!’
Realising his rifle wasn’t the best choice of weapon now as he was knocked about by the horde of bodies, Jack flicked it around and behind him, relieved upon hearing the magnetic clips on his armour do their thing, latching his rifle in place so he could retrieve it later.
“Aegis!” Jack yelled out as the pincer of the insectoid came at him again, summoning his shield to take the blow before he lashed out, taking the bug in the maw and knocking him back, before he followed through with a quick draw of his sidearm, putting two controlled shots in the thing’s chest and missing the shot to the head as several bolts of blue light smacked into him, though his shield took a few of the hits as he disengaged.
‘Shit! How many of these fuckers did the Redeemer bring with him?’ Jack thought to himself, as he heard an explosion from somewhere up above him. ‘And how the fuck did they know we’d be here?!’
His Ring of the Berserker was flaring up as Jack tried to regain his bearings, trying to spot the source of the magic missiles that had just been flung his way, before he suddenly brought up his forearm, reflexively parrying a swipe from the gorilla-man that had tried to blindside him with the baton. His armour held, only causing him to feel a slight tingle as he lashed out with a punch, clocking his attacker in the face as his gauntlets instantly reacted to cap his knuckles with a metal coating, adding to the power of the punch, sending the gorilla-man to the ground in a daze.
“What’s up retards? May I have your attention please?” A sneering voice called out over the speakers of the music, and though Jack looked for the source of the voice as he tried to get away, he could see the DJ still at his podium looking confused at who was talking. “I know you crackheads aren’t very bright, so I’ll try and use simple words so you understand."
"You are currently being graced by the presence of the Order of the Infernal Harmony, along with our very special guest, The Redeemer! The reason why we’re here is the Outsider practically shitting himself on the dancefloor of this dump, along with a few random bimbos dumb enough to tag along with him. Anyone that gets in the way of our business or takes any action against us should be prepared to accept the consequences, up to and not limited to your brutal death, so if any of you losers are actually lucid enough to understand me, I’d get the hell out of our way.”
“Fuck you, bitch!” One drunken patron yelled out above the noise as he drunkenly shot at the nearest speaker, missing several times before reducing it to slag.
“Oh golly gee, what an unexpected answer from a bunch of fucking crackheads!” The voice mocked sarcastically as Jack saw the turrets above glow with power. “Time to die motherfuckers!”
*****
First/Previous
Yep, these bad guys came prepared! Shame Jack can't just start blasting with all the people around!
Don't forget to check out The Galactic High Info Sheet! If you want to remind yourself of certain characters and factions. One new chapter a week can seem like a while! Don't forget! You all have the ability to leave comments and notes to the entries, which I encourage you to do!
I am now on Royal Road! I would appreciate your support in getting myself off the ground there with your lovely comments, reviews and likes!
If you're impatient for the next chapter, why not check out my previous series?
As always I love to see the comments on what you guys think!
Don't forget to join the discussion with us on Discord, and consider checking me out on Youtube if you haven't already! Until next week, it's goodbye for now!

From book called "A LAND UNKNOWN: Hell's Dominion" by B.W. Melvin (Bryan Melvin)
EXCERPT 1:
As He [Jesus] was speaking to me, these thoughts entered my mind: “It is appointed once for a man to die. When it is not that time, returning is an option decided. Children were raised; others were raised, as it was not their appointed hour, but mine. God is a God of the living and not the dead. When you arrive, say two words at that particular point of overwhelming and they are: My Name in your tongue and my Title.” At the end of these words, He reached into His robe and withdrew keys of many odd shapes and design, all bound by a connecting brass rung. Taking one key from the ring, he turned toward a door that appeared like a wall of mist that lay off to His left-hand side. As He inserted this key into the doorway that was arched like a gate, the mist parted, unrolling as a scroll, exposing a greenish-black narrow hole. In this hole there appeared a tunnel that led neither down, up, sideways, this way, or that. It was just there: a vortex.
EXCERPT 2:
The creature before me had a vile appearance. It stood about fourfeet-eight inches tall and had somewhat human features. Its skin color was dark yellowish-green with a moldy texture. Its skin appeared reptilian/saurian like. It had human raptor-like feet and a short chunky tail. Its teeth resembled those of a shark. Its breath was so foul that the very atmosphere surrounding it was like heat waves off of sun-drenched pavement on a hot summer day. Its steamy breath distorted its round human-like reptilian face and gave it an appearance of having many eyes; yet, it had two or maybe three at the most. With its lizard-like arms it tried to grab me in an evil embrace of welcome. All I could do was repeat a Name and a Title, which caused it to retreat a short distance away. I felt a presence behind me, but I was too afraid to turn my gaze from the creature to look. This small foul smelling ogre’s eyes kept darting at something in back of me that was emitting a blue purplish hue. The ghoul just grinned and muttered out loud. I stood facing this murmuring hissing creature. Gesturing with its hands and jabbering gibberish mixed with a few words of English, this ghastly being appeared to be attempting to speak to me like a foreigner trying to explain directions to a tourist with a limited vocabulary in which to converse. I was the tourist. It was difficult to understand. This beast seemed to be saying in a deep raspy guttural tone of broken English mixed with gibberish I did not understand and said, “Come follow me, (gerrr); I’ll show you half of the Kingdom. (hara-is) Come follow me (hisss) and have (errr) half of the Kingdom. (Alla ohst) Come (Sur-grrr) follow me through the veil; a road out, to, from, above, lies beyond (hesee). It’s been granted to thee to see, (grr-eko) follow me (ahka)” This disgusting foul smelling saurian brute walked with a shuffling manner towards the skyline, which was bathed orange-red by sunset, motioning for me to follow. Away from the house on the hill, away from the apparitions inside its walls, it walked. I followed continuously speaking a Name and Title as fast as I could without cease. Coming to what appeared to be the end of the horizon, the creature reached forth and parted the skyline as one would a curtain or veil. It walked through the torn hole bidding me to follow. I walked through this jagged frayed crack in the skyline and gazed upon a land unknown and best forgotten that was waiting on the other side, beckoning to be seen. Then it dawned on me where I was: the fiery pit, hell’s deep hole.
EXCERPT 3:
I followed the rank creature and immediately emerged on the other side of the horizon. A wide, dirty, flat, barren expanse of land gently sloped downward, betraying an endless circular spiral of misery. On the left side of the coiled grade were rows and rows of cubes with more cubes columned high, forming a wall of ten-by-ten foot partitions mirroring the events displayed inside. Each cube was stacked six high, marring each ascending and descending spiraling level’s wall like a dirty mirror. The wide expanse was a road. Strange entities were traveling on it. This wide dusty road ended at a circular void, highlighting the center of this hellish domain. The cubes appeared encompassed by thin smoke-tinted, gelatinlike walls. Each cube appeared to be about ten feet by ten feet square. You could see into these but not out of them. Within every chamber resided an individual person, trapped, unable to escape as I had.
Looking through the torn wall of the cube I had just stepped out of, the house and tree within were hauntingly calling my name to return. Perplexed, I stepped back for another glance at this cubicle. I was surprised that it was so small. Inside it had seemed so large! Turning, I saw the lizard-like being a few feet from me, reaching its ugly, greenish-yellow arms as if to drag me away to a desperate fate. Boxer style, I blocked the attempt. This fiend stepped back, grinning ear to ear. This beast began hissing and making strange murmurs that sounded as if it were trying to say something. It rocked back and forth while gesturing with its hands like it was in a hurry to go someplace. The creature’s mutterings became loud within my ears, as if one were turning up the volume on a buzzing amp. I became dizzy. My sight was briefly distorted. Then, in a flash, everything came back into sharp focus. Despite its hissing and gibberish, I began to strangely understand its speech without difficulty. While I could hear it speak in another language, I heard in plain English. This creature began speaking in broken rhymes in a rough, raspy manner, interrupted often with highpitched screeches. It spoke: “Dimensions of eternity hold no bounds. A small area can appear as big as a country or as small as an ant’s hole. Neither size nor depth matters here; only space fashioned by one’s mind. Within the walls one cannot escape what one dreads the most. I am (a) HOST here. What one sows is what one REAPS! What one sows is what one REAPS! What one sows is what one REAPS! Come, follow me.” The devilish host pointed across the wide, vacant expanse of road. Within its spongy, dry, brown dirt, small maggot-like creatures arose, squealed, and dipped back into little dark holes like insects. Hissing and spitting this lizardlike brute said, “Come and see, it’s been granted to thee.
Let’s first move on over to the ledge of this wide road.” All I could do was proceed continuously speaking a Name and Title. I wanted to wake up so badly. The fear was overwhelming. How could this be? Long ago, I argued that this place did not exist, but now, here I was. Seeing became believing. Following the foul beast, we both walked out onto the broad barren road, away from the cubes towards what appeared to be a cliff-like ledge, dropping into emptiness. We passed several lone, peculiar creatures roaming about. Passing these, we reached the road’s edge. Looking up and down, it seemed as if I were in the middle of a spiral staircase. Above was a winding, ascending spiral, and below a descending one as far as the eye could see. In the middle was a doughnut hole of space, like the inside of a pit. In awe, I watched bizarre beings moving through this space as if being lifted by some strange force, while others appeared to be climbing translucent, vaporous beams. Upon the roadway, hoards of peculiar entities moved in loose packs. One such pack came and encompassed us.
There, surrounding us on every side, were creatures both small and great in stature. Their features were ferocious, yet soft, then hideous, and then deceptively gentle. Some resembled animals, a few looked snake-like, many appeared almost human, and others were similar to serpents with round heads, sinewy arms, and short, lizard-like legs.
These were strange beings. Several looked almost human but had three faces on the orb of their head. Each face continuously revolved horizontally round and round. With every rotation, their facial features meshed with fluttering appearances into the next. Their eyes were dark and deceptive. They all varied in colors and hues. One particular creature, standing off in the distance, had skin with a purplish, glowing, light-blue tone. It had three faces like the others had, but it was stunningly beautiful. The faces slowly orbited around the orb of its purplish head. I could not tell if it was manlike or not due to a concealing garment it wore around its body. It was out there watching in sullen silence, motionless, just staring at me while emitting a purplish-blue aura. I saw several milling around us that appeared like “walking stick” insects with human-like faces about onethird of the way down their body. Other creatures reminded me of tree trunks and plants with human characteristics.
Many of the apparitions gathered around us appeared like gargoyles without wings. These varied in height from a few inches to around five feet tall. The colors of these creatures’ skin all varied in dark hues. Every one of the gargoyle entities wore odd-looking pants from the waste down. Some wore robes. All around me were a vast array of odd beings of diverse shapes, and on the road lived small creatures that resembled worms. As I watched these creatures, they at first looked harmlessly pleasant, but then, as I stared, I saw them transform into hideousness before my eyes.
The entities with the rotating faces seemed tallest. Lengthwise the snake and serpent-shaped ones appeared longest. The “walking stick” creatures varied in size and length. It was an incredible sight. A costume designer for a horror movie would be gravely perplexed to recreate this scene The noise from this place was incredible, the smell, sickening. The sights were mesmerizing. I stood, adapting to this place with all its creatures lurking about. I slowly began to realize that this hissing, human-lizard-like ghastly being was showing me around this domain as a guide would a tourist at a seaside resort, but this was not a resort. It looked at me and said, “Turn to the walls and look upon the stacks of boxes, each upon a row, and row upon row; stacked six high they go along the road and as far back as they can go. Inside are souls with many friends for each; yes, some friends leave while others like to stay with our guest. The levels of this spiral way spin thither and yon, descending lower where the blessings grow. Come and see; granted thee. Come follow me back to where the boxes grow.” In a limping fashion, this fiend dragged its ugly feet along, creating weak puffs of dust as we headed back toward the front ranks of cubes located across this wide expanse of ugly terrain. Reaching these, the creature came to the border where two cubes met and walked between them without effort into some sort of secret passageway.
In like manner, I followed. As I entered, the cube’s walls eerily parted like ripples from a stone splashing in water. A path came into view, revealing more cubes that lay behind the ones on the front row. It was a maze of narrow hallways that lay beyond, leading to cubicles further back. Cube after connecting cube were all pressed tightly against these narrow passageways. As I began to walk between these compartments, the bordering walls would expand just enough for my body to rub uneasily against it. While I moved, the walls would close in behind leaving me feeling eerily claustrophobic. The walls felt warm and much like a dolphin’s skin feels to the touch. Walking between the cubes, I noticed that at different locations the pathways would at one turn be pressed together, and at another turn they would become narrow hallways; then, at another turn, small wedge-shaped rooms appeared where the cubes did not press tightly against each other. More narrow passageways led to the farthest cells that lay against what appeared to be the back wall of a pit located a great distance from the roadway. Where we were walking, the floor was the same ugly brown dirt of the road, and the ceiling was made up of the cubes stacked above. The cubes were stacked six high. To go up or down to the next highest or lowest cubicle, all one had to do was desire it and the walls from the surrounding cells would morph, forming stairs that reached the destination one wanted.
The host walked ahead of me. We walked between the cubes for what seemed a long time. Inside every square cell resided a single person along with several creatures. These creatures gave the illusion of being people, animals, trees, and incredible things. Every person was imprisoned in his or her own private prison. All were in varying degrees of anguish, according to the deeds and actions done in life, to life, against life, even for life, both the bad and the good. Truly, this is a land best forgotten.
I could see into each cube in some strange form of double vision. It was like viewing the cubicles from the outside, at the same time seeing the inside of these abodes as one of its inhabitants saw it. For reasons unknown to me how or why, the people and creatures inside seemed to be a little less than two thirds of their normal size. Odd!
We walked between and passed cube after cube, up and down. Some were empty, but the vast majority had a person trapped inside. If I looked up, there was a bottom view of a person’s wretched cell and the events that were being enacted inside. Looking right to left I saw more people living out scenarios once lived in mortal life, but now with strange creatures as companions and props. Turning to the right, I could see people enjoying their stay, but then they would grow sullen because the scene never changed. Moving on, I glanced and saw a woman dressed in dated garments of a century gone by sitting, on a beach, mindlessly drawing circles in the sand. Then we passed an old man trying to catch a fish in a pond. It all looked so surreal. What had these people done to deserve such a boring fate? Was not there supposed to be fire and brimstone here? We traveled between more cubes. The sides of these eerily rubbed against the texture of my skin. Everywhere I gazed, I could not help but see people individually trapped inside. Each person lost in the illusions that their personal prison portrayed.
There, in a cube, a young man resided who seemed to be attending a costume ball. He appeared to be enjoying himself rather well. Then the party guests began to cruelly ridicule him. Passing this cell to the next, I saw another person being flogged on what appeared to be an old sailing ship sinking in an ocean; just prior to this he was enjoying being captain on that ship. We moved on. Suddenly the sides of a cube formed stairs. The ugly host pointed at the stairs and said, “Come, climb to the upper ones above.” Ascending upward, we then emerged somewhere on the top sixth row near the back wall. This level was different than the rest, reeking of deception and quiet gloom. The floor here took on an ashen-grayburning-ember hue and masked the views of the people trapped below. It was echoing quiet. All that could be heard were sounds of many shuffling feet. Before me lay a grand hallway that stretched into the distance before ending. This hall was bordered on both sides by cubicles. The ceiling arched upward cathedral fashion into the dirt roof of the pit. Soiled green linen-like drapes, adorning the hall, often eerily rubbed against me like unseen cobwebs concealed in shadows. Down the long, semi-narrow corridor, I could see several large foul beings quietly sitting upon a platform where a podium resided. From my vantage point this cathedral walkway appeared shaped like a sideways ‘T’ with the podium’s stage marking the apexes’ intersection.
At the central apex, the hall branched out of sight towards the back wall, while the other leg stretched straight onward before me. Inside these halls, were sporadic groups of shadowy creatures walking, huddled together, shoulderto-shoulder, and steadily plodding past us. Each cluster glumly passed, vacantly starring blindly ahead, never noticing we were there. Separate groups would enter various cubes to my left, which were pressed tightly against the back wall, and then vanished from view. These gaggles were arriving from the apex up ahead, turning either right or left, while the large, foul beings watched these processions mutely plod on from the podium area. Then, I spied that purplish-aqua-blue entity prowling in the dim gloom. As soon as I saw it, I thought I could hear words faintly whispering through the stark ominous silence of this great hallway saying, “The way is broad, enter here, enter there; it matters not where. Enter here or enter there; it matters not how. Follow me here, follow me there, it matters not where; just follow me here.” The center apex of the hall drew closer. The grisly host before me stopped, turned, grinned, and motioned for me to enter between cubes to our right, back toward the road. As we proceeded, its loud gnarly voice broke the hushed silence of this shadowy hall, saying, “Some enter here and are moved to where boxes grow. Others enter there through spinning tubes where boxes wait. It matters not how, as long as they keep entering this Grand Palace!” We began descending morphing stairs till reaching the bottom row. A labyrinth of right and left turns soon greeted our strides. Abruptly, we emerged from between two cubes back onto the spiraling roadway.
Walking between these was like a foretaste of things to come and prepared my senses to comprehend what lay ahead. Standing a few feet from me, this beastly host creature leered at me, as it stood stone-like on the wide, dusty road. Its foul-smelling breath was distorting its face. It seemed as if it had many eyes moving in a kaleidoscope of scathing eyeballs. Leering. Staring. Scathing. Glaring.
EXCERPT 4:
Walking along on the fifth story of cubes was a new nightmare. Seeing those termed as ‘nice’ confined here had shaken me. However, with each passing scene the ‘nice’ were in reality quite different than first perceived. Many diverse desires corrupted their lives. Some desires seemed noble and good. Other desires were just plain bad. No matter, they all corrupted. That uniquely arrogant, condescending, asserting-your-rights-nomatter- the-cost attitude brought many here. This desire unknowingly deceived and defiled scores of victims. Many used this as an excuse to slay those they viewed as weak, according to their own twisted opinions. When encountering any person perceived as a potential threat, or not meeting their preconceived standards, they sought to slay careers, marriages, hopes, and dreams of anyone they saw as not fit.
This attitude was carried over at home, at play, and everywhere they went. If you failed to live up to their predetermined standards, you were marked as prey to be taught a lesson, or targeted for abuse. It comes in many forms, from gossiping slander to creating scapegoats; all in order to rule others’ lives like a king or queen, and then hope to be perceived by others as something great for their own ego’s reward. Cube after cube were passed by. There, inside a cubicle, a man from 1890 who gave to the poor only to be seen by others, so he could be exalted as being something great. He went about claiming how vast his giving was, just to earn accolades from the masses. He was a true hypocrite claiming other wealthy persons should pay their fair share, because he paid a mere pittance from his immense net worth.
He neglected those he employed, paid them low wages, and only through his corporation’s profits did he give to the poor. Now he was encapsulated in a cube as a beggar begging for bread while a crowd of people passed him by, spitting on him as they went. Across form this cell was another man from days gone by, who was wedged inside a barrel that was jammed inside a narrow cave. This man was stingy with the things given during life. He was being deprived of the things he once horded. Creatures chained to the floor of his habitat would place certain items before his face that would aid his escape. He could not reach these because his arms were immobile, stuck tight by his sides, unable to move.
Then we passed a woman, washing clothes upon a rock in a muddy stream wearing the garments of Africa. Despite being pious and performing nice deeds, she was caught up in pride and greed. She envied her neighbor’s goods, complained a lot, and spoke badly about a young woman she did not really know because she thought she looked more beautiful than her. She perceived her as weak and in need of a lesson that only she could teach. How dare this one try to take her place in the community! She would put a stop to that, and nip it in the bud! She never really knew this other woman, but that did not matter. She perceived her a threat to her status and continually slandered the woman’s excellent character. The other woman turned the other cheek after each libelous attack. This was viewed as weakness. She was like a cat toying with a wounded mouse. She told herself that she was just trying to teach that woman a lesson, but in truth it was only a grudge justified to slay: to remove one more beautiful than she.
Down by the stream stood a creature imitating the beautiful woman that she reviled without cause, telling her the things she once reasoned true but now found a lie. She became the mouse. The creature, like a cat, began to play. We moved on, leaving this scene. What one sows is what one reaps. People inhabiting this fifth row of cubes were all mixed together. This row did not class people together with common anguishes or punishments. In fact, no level really did. However, the sixth row reeked of something different waiting above. You could not help but feel an ominous sensation radiating down onto you. The sixth row was reserved for certain types of people, and we were on our way there.
Walking behind the ambling lizard-like being, I came to another square cell on the fifth row high, where resided a cruel woman who had died in the 1950’s, full of malice, being beaten with a hairbrush as she used to do to her children. She used to speak vilely to her children, and then used a hairbrush to bring home some arbitrary, meaningless point. She also tormented her husband in many diverse ways. What she once did to others was now happening to her. It was easy to clearly see why these cruel people were here. Feeling waves of apprehension, the others along these passageways still troubled me because they appeared nicer than the cruel people were, and yet they were here. One minute, I felt I understood why they all were here in this place, and in another, I was not so sure. It was like something following me was causing uncertainty. As I felt this, I tried to remember the montage of words spoken to me from above hoping they would provide aid again. The host creature interrupted my attempt for relief by yelling furiously, “Come on – come on, hurry up! Curse God, curse me – how can this be? How can a Most High leave all the nice people in boxes? Crying? Hurting? Come on Curse God – curse me. How can a Most High let this be?”
This foul beast motioned to move on. I followed this creature along the maze of narrow halls between cubes. It seemed like we were heading toward the far back wall. The further we went back, the passageways became wider and the triangular rooms more numerous. We came to another open area with a limited view of the ominous sixth row high. Sitting along the edges of what would be the roofs of the cubes located on the fifth row sat several creepy, shadowy creatures of varied sizes. Many looked like gargoyles without wings. Others looked harmless, beautifully sublime. All emanated devious vibes. As the creatures saw me passing below them, they began to discourse amongst themselves. “How can the Most High leave people bound in famine?” “Yeah, and tied to earthly plights beyond compare?” “Don’t forget leaving these to war.” “Yeah, floods that perish, storms that steal, how can a most high leave these be?” “Oh, that must be mercy? HA! HA!” “Aye, and then brought here to be with us?” “Fair? Just? Ha! Merciful? HA!” “You, walking there, are foolhardy to think that mercy the Most High has.” “Come on, come on, and hurry up down there! Curse you, curse me you little foul fleet-footed twit!” “Ha! Ha! Ha! You foolish, foul, fleet-footed fool! God creates calamities and we reap the rewards! Fair, Ha!! Mercy! Don’t make me laugh.” Their mocking was intense. Fear began to return with each battering I received from their words. All I could do was what I had been doing, speaking two words fast, like the staccato from a machine gun, “Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ!” and walk the gauntlet of hate-filled creatures following the host into the unknown. I wanted to answer them but I dared not stop speaking those two words. I wanted to curse them back, yell, to tell them to go away, but I could not. Their cruel taunting words kept hammering away at me. It was as though they could perceive my thoughts but not my mind and I thought back hard: “How could these beings say such matters? There were no children here, nor any disabled by fault of reason. These creatures’ many devices cause wars. As for the earth, it lives and breathes as designed. To be caught in one of its spasms seems more by chance than folly. One must be ready for eternity’s call at any moment, is what I see. “Yes, God knows all. He gave us intelligence to reason. Could we learn or be granted insight into where a calamity may next befall either by technology, divine insight, or a combination of both? Is this what was meant by man subduing the earth? “We build the buildings that collapse, not God, and yet He receives all the blame. Fair? No! And then, how dare they call me a foul, fleetfooted fool?”
I wanted to yell this out loud and curse all these creatures, but I felt oddly restrained to keep my mouth to myself and to continue walking, following that host creature shuffling along in front of me. I could hear many deep, raspy voices echoing in the halls. “You Fool! You bleak-eyed twit! How dare you think?” “Ha! Ha! Ha!” “No answers and never find any.” “Ha! Ha! Ha!” I was becoming incensed with rage at these beings because of the doubt they sow. Then the peaceful and powerful thoughts from above returned, challenging the taunts, and strengthening my wavering mind with quiet resolve with these words: “True, the earth is designed to move and breathe according to need. When a spasm arises, redemption is in the design. God chose us to choose Him, but will we? “When that tower fell so long ago, at Siloam, the question was not in who made it fall, or why it fell, or if those afflicted were more guilty than the rest, but rather raised the question of what type of redemption really redeems? “Yes, many read into events, accidents, diseases, earth calamities, and assign blame and cause. That is easy to do. However, does this type of redemption truly redeem? “Hmmm, when calamity strikes, where would you be found? Aiding the helpless? Comforting the afflicted? Doing nothing? Join in the looting? Host an argument to find blame? What truly redeems? “Yes, God chose us to choose Him, but will we? God squeezes and fashions light by generating darkness; from this, God refines harmony’s balance by initiating calamity. When calamity arises, redemption is in the design. Aiding fingers need many hands.” A brief silence filled the cavernous halls at the cessation of these words. The authoritative thoughts caused more muffled mocking to slowly intensify again. Soon, contemptuous scoffing resonated loudly in the gloomy passageways, each voice agonizing over the subject amongst themselves.
Then, the reptilian host suddenly stopped, turned and growled, “Enough, enough, hear no more. Up we go, follow me, the sixth row high boxes wait; come, follow me, half the kingdom offered thee. Come, follow me – up we go.” I did not want to go. The sixth row high from the road reeked of doom. The walls of a nearby cell morphed into narrow stairs. The creature went up. I traversed the ascent to the sixth row with great trepidation. Upon reaching this height the venue changed. The residences on this level still retained the ten-by-ten feet dimension, but these were set differently than the other rows previously seen. The walkway between these were wider and the triangle-shaped chambers larger. The ceiling was the same ugly dirt as the spiral road and roofs of the fifth-row cubicles were the floors here. The flooring was no longer a transparent smoky tan color as seen before, below, but now had an ashen-gray, burning-ember tinge. The cubes bordering the road area spread back in a fan shape just like on the other rows, but this extension ended a great distance from where the wide road was located. You could tell that the cubes packed tight, and fan like, led toward the spiral road. The other cubes placed in ranks governed the direction to the pit’s far wall. This was the only area where I had some sense of direction. Also on this level were many individual cubes set apart from the rest. The short saurian ogre was cursing everything. Its foul breath reeked stale and hot in the viscose air. However, this was not air, as we know it, nor was the act of breathing the same as how we humans breathe. In fact, breathing was more like exhaling in a manner that only served to support speech as long as you spoke, and nothing else.
This diabolical escort began speaking: “Each step we take is a take indeed on we go and on we go. Half the kingdom offered thee.” Looking behind me, the creature stopped speaking and stood stone still, pointing. I quickly turned. There in the near distance was that purplish entity, its faces rotating round and round, each full of seductive beauty and profound malice. I heard it speak. “Will thou follow me?” I said nothing in reply except the words “Jesus Christ,” non-stop. “A Most High Author of all? How can He be truly just and perfect and allow the things you have seen?” It was hypnotic, the words it spoke: “An offer given – will thou follow me? Curse God, come, follow me.” My head felt dizzy. Doubts flooded my mind about God and all His mercy and perfect justice. The reptilian host creature stood grinning from ear to ear. I continued to mutter a name and a title louder: “Jesus Christ, JESUS CHRIST!” At the loud mention of this Name and Title that strange purplish being beguilingly vanished between the cubes as though seeking pity for having received a great wound to its smugness.
Immediately, as though nothing had happened, the rank host began hobbling in the direction where the spiral road lay below. The walkways between the cubes became narrow again. I could feel the purplish creature’s presence receding in the murkiness, yet it remained lurking in the distance for another chance to devour. About this time I had the paradoxical sense that we were approaching the bottom of a bottomless pit, but in reality we were somewhere on the sixth row, six cubes high, located somewhere along a spiral road in a land best forgotten but not left unseen. The lizard guide continued onward, pointing to this cube and that. I cannot adequately express the misery I saw inside these square cells. Some people were mutilated; others sat in darkness or flames. In one, I saw a man, a warrior of Mongolia from long ago, experiencing terrible thirst while tied to the ground with what appeared to be insects crawling on his personage, each bug taunting him all the while: “You put me here, now a tasty taste of your own fun!”
I turned and looked into the cubicle opposite his, and there was another man experiencing a battery of unkind words that continually assailed his mind. He was an abuser during his mortal sojourn on earth. He beat his family quite often with words and at times with fists. He derived great pleasure from this, as it made him feel good and in control. He told his sons and daughters, “You are scum; you’ll never amount to nothing! Do as I say boy (with an upraised hand). Woman – what did you do with my pants! How dare you – you witch.” These words were now coming back to haunt him. He sat on a brown sofa in a room with algae green curtains that were opened, exposing a sliding glass door. He sat with the sun to his back, drinking what appeared to be a glass of beer, but in fact it was nothing at all except a prop. There he was, while invisible voices assailed his mind. He remained seated with an all-consuming anger in his eyes, listening to the words he once spoke over and over again, but now each word was returning to him. During my stay in this place, I always heard the cubes click at certain times. Each timed tick would be followed by a click, and the cubes would move and ever so slowly began descending to new levels located somewhere below.
As the cubes moved, torments increased, and the scenes inside the cells changed for those trapped inside. On the sixth row high, when the cubes moved we also moved, just as we did on the proceeding levels below. Here on this row, it felt as though I was approaching the bottom of a bottomless pit, yet I was still six cubes high, off the road that lay somewhere out of sight. I witnessed a nightmare of events as we traveled along these passageways. Every person that I saw inside his or her cube was living in his or her own private night terror. Each person’s worst nightmare had become a reality. The most violent and cruel received various forms of mutilations, while others were experiencing mental torments which they had personally devised for others in their time on earth. As the cubes moved, torments increased by degrees. There was such despair, hopelessness, and extreme loneliness here. The weeping was like one long, droning sound. Isolation was the common factor for all, and separation from God was very pronounced. I noticed that so many of these people had simply accepted their fate, while others cursed God, cursed the creatures that appeared to them as companions, and cursed themselves. I saw men and women trapped in cubes that reeked of despairing gloom and deep darkness. Some appeared to be in houses that were decorated like the ones they once lived in. Still there were others bound, unable to move, while buglike creatures crawled in and out of their mouths. The people were shouting, “No! This can’t be happening! I want to wake up!”
Another cube passed, and inside were several creatures strapping a man clad in ancient Roman garb to a cross and driving short spikes into his wrists and near the ankles. He was once a soldier, a leader of men of battles fought long ago. He had ordered many to be crucified along a road. Here he was now, as he had once done; now it was done to him over and over again, feeling all the pain fresh and new each time. Over there I saw a woman who had claimed to be a real witch in the 1890’s. She was trapped inside a coffin. She would scratch the inside trying to get out, and still could see herself on the outside looking in while shadowy figures stood outside mocking her. It had been her worst nightmare during her earthly life. She had dreamed this often, but now it was real. She was cruel toward those who tried to love her, and here it was being repaid in kind. Her cube clicked and moved, and we moved along with it. The scene changed. The coffin opened. She sat straight up, screaming hateinspired terror at everything that moved. Every lost soul in this place was experiencing degrees of severe isolation, loneliness, gloom, boredom, and despair. It was as if these people became totally resigned to his or her fate. It was though the anguishes seen here were being given back in full measure, to each according to every unkind word spoken, every slanderous lie told, all filthy thoughts relished, all covetousness practiced, every hidden dirty passion that had been enjoyed; every foul deed’s motives were completely exposed, totally without excuse.
There seemed to be a whispering ambiance in the air that sounded like a gentle wind rustling leaves in the twilight of a summer evening, and was speaking something like this to all the inhabitants: “You, in here, chose to walk away from the only way, even though many times you were called to restrain and return; you refused. Look at what you made of your life, and what you did. How can you remain and continue to defile the holy way provided? “One with an intellect and reason has responsibilities, and to force you to change now is impossible. Why? Could it be because your intellect and reason would continually pervert the change, renewing detestation toward God if consequences do not last? “Just because you were given the gift of a living mind granted latitude to reason with intelligence, you, here, find fault with judgment? What was given as a gift, life, cannot be taken back once sealed by eternity’s ways. If so, what was done before would remain and a gift would no longer be a gift as originally consigned. “How can the Most High change your reason here, from this, if you failed to heed then? To change your intellect and reason now would make you like a lowly beast, or a slave, who serves out of fear and hates those above due to perceived resentments. How do you think that one before was found to have iniquity in his heart, and what this means?
“If you were allowed to be free from these torments, after serving some time here, in a thousand years you would return to your ways knowing you would just be punished, serve a little time, and be free again. No justice in that. “You, here and there, say blast me off into an eternal nothingness! To do so would be against the nature provided by the Most High. He cannot curse His own being that cannot help but breathe life. “There are many who desire this type of destruction, but life cannot beget death of the kind that breeds eternal nothingness. However, it is not impossible to do this, but again that would be against the nature of all things consigned. What does it matter when the matter was decided to be a matter of fact? “You, in here, perverted life’s free gifts, and changed it all just to suit personal cravings and desire. You kept the wrong life, live. You neglected family, fostered envy, slew people with your words, sought to be king of the hill, thought you knew what was best, brought others low deemed as unfit. You, in here, made life ugly where you were assigned by all manner of means to rationalize your selfish gratifications.
“You, there, rejected the chance to escape this fate and gleefully accepted the free ride that falsely promised to turn stones to bread, turn every perceived want and desire into some form of power that was perceived as just a “benefit”, and promised that you were exempt from all the calamities you created during your mortal sojourn. “You challenge by saying that if God truly was allpowerful and merciful, He could change those down here with the wave of His hand. How can one really change your mind now if you would not freely listen then? You would learn to view this as a spanking, just temporary punishment, to make you behave for a while, but then you would return to your own vomiting reason every few thousand years. Corruption would only beget more corruption unless restrained, confined, here.”
This quiet ambiance’s gentle rustlings stirred many inside their cubes to curse God, themselves, the creatures; but it also caused them to understand and accept their fate, while awaiting a future judgment’s final verdict’s decree, and then…?

So has the title says, I am an aspiring opera singer…. But it is, and for me always has been, an almost impossible road.
I started studying singing in 2000 when I was 12 years old. I attended a conservatory in the kids division three years. After that I went to a magnet arts high school in my city. When I started there, what I wanted to do with my singing was music theater. I fell in love with being on stage, and with how fun musicals were to perform. They were upbeat, they were dynamic in that they had singing AND dancing, in addition to dialogue.
I understand that acting in the music theater is a competitive field, but I never imagined people would be so bigoted In theater.
The first show ever did was Cabaret. I was a freshman, young and naïve, and I figured the way they were casting (alto boy) was just based on lack of experience and falsetto voice architecture. No particular thing about looks. But the second show was Jekyll and Hyde, and I discovered that there was not one single lead in that show who had blonde hair. Everyone was either naturally brunette, or had a wig… I was one of the only people who didn’t have a wig, and I felt like I stood out like a sore thumb. The next musical I was in was “city of angels“, and I was in the Jazz Quartet for that number. It was difficult, it was out of my vocal range, I expressed this to the directors and conductor, but would they listen?…. Finally the last show I audition for in high school was fiddler on the roof. And it became clear to me that they were not looking for me to do anything except look like the stereotypical blonde villain… I.E. , the NAZI. I was hurt and I rejected the role they offered and never did a musical again.
Result of that however was that the rest of my high school experience was completely miserable. During the end of my senior year, a student pulled a prank, and wrote a threatening letter in my name. My principal went along with it, I was falsely accused, and Wong fully committed to a psychiatric ward, where I ended up sexually assaulted, and the crime covered up by the therapist on duty. By the time I got out of the ward, my principal had smeared my good name to my entire town. And I was unable to ever pursue music theater again during my college days. Nobody would cast me
so in order to keep singing, I took up opera music. I started naturally performing in Operas by Mozart/Da-Ponte, Gilber and Sullivan, Jacques Offenbach and Biedric Smetena.
By the time college ended, I was $17,000 in student loan debt (still sinking), and had no other work prospects. So I decided to join the military in order to make some money as an analyst.
When I got out I went back to grad school, and after I got my degree I went to Germany to try and secure work because it was the best market . I managed to impress an agent, and he invited me back for a formal in person audition. So when I came home I took a job as a bartender, and saved up my money, and came back to Germany… The agency RENEGED on the agree time and date of the audition, and flew out to Spain while I was stranded in Berlin, and out €3000
This was right before the pandemic. Between then and now, I’ve had to take a different jobs, I freelanced for a production of Madame butterfly, and I did a couple of young artist programs. Finally I decided to come back to Germany, in hopes of securing a visa and getting work here
In that time my repertoire has expanded to more romantic and verismo era Operas, my voice has grown, I’ve even taken a part-time job singing reduced opera productions for elementary schools with a touring company. Next week I have an audition for a professional opera chorus…
But I will be honest with you about my feelings on this, lately I’ve been speaking with my therapist, and I think he and I have had a breakthrough, and that I think that pursuing this career has ultimately interfered with my ability to live my life. I have suffered the last 17 years since high school from depression, anxiety, and suicidal tendencies.
For the longest time I’ve wanted really bad to do something I’m capable of doing, because I believed it would bring meaning to my life. Opera music is like a translucent window into the history of western culture, and that it gives one of the clearest pictures of people as they’ve changed through the centuries. But nowadays it seem like even the pursuit of that is a waste. Agencies keep closing their doors, saying they are reducing their rosters, and trying to hold promises for people they signed on before the pandemic. Houses in the United States are not interested in anyone who doesn’t have an agent, and the Met opera which is supposed to be the Premier is nothing more than a launch pad for race discussions in opera, not that that is wrong, but it’s simply defaults on the efforts and experience of singers on the basis of their abilities.
So in the midst of doing that , I feel completely out of place, no matter how much I love opera music.
There… AMA

My coop is inside my run and we are trying to decide what color corrugated polycarbonate roof to put on. White? Solar Gray? Green? That brought up how much light would be let in to their coop depending on each color. Then that brought up the question, should it have an opaque roof? something like plywood that would block out all light, giving them a dark place to hang in. Or just let the sun set their circadian rhythm and that's that?
Thanks for the replies, this chickens thing is new to me. I used to frame houses and tilt-ups and all i know is how to frame with 2X so i built a brick shithouse of a coop/run. putting the finishing touches on to get them in the coop tomorrow and out of their plastic bin. they're getting big. and grumpy. and there are six of them.

Would this story be acceptable for plausibility? If we say, "I made it out of there by ascending the silver spire" or whatever, and that it is a memory, does that suffice? The part 1 is below
​

I died and went to Hell. Next to the Lake of Blood, I found a list of rules [part 1]

Throughout my life, I was always a piece of shit. From an early age, I joined a gang and started selling drugs. Anything from weed to heroin to crack sold itself, but on the unforgiving streets of the city, a single mistake could be fatal. I always carried a cheap burner pistol that I could throw away after using it. I know quite a few friends and acquaintances who died from drugs I sold them- some overdosing, others crashing their cars while high. A couple of them committed suicide during opiate withdrawals. One got cut in half by a train while nodding off.
But by seventeen, I had committed my first confirmed murder- a rival gang member and drug dealer who pulled a gun on me first. I had probably killed people before, but I never watched the news after a shooting or a stabbing to see the result. I wasn’t interested in the slightest.
In this case, I had just been slightly quicker than my rival and, a fraction of a second later, his forehead imploded like a smashed pumpkin in front of me, spraying bone splinters and brains all over the sidewalk. He stumbled forward a step before falling forward. His pistol went off in his dying hand, but it went low, the bullet disappearing with a crack into the nearby street. He fell forward with a dull thud, his legs kicking as if he were seizing.
The sidewalk of the dead end street we stood on spun around me for a moment. The many abandoned, rotting houses of the city loomed over us like hanging corpses. My ears gave a high-pitched shriek of tinnitus from the gunshots.
Nervous, I looked up and down the side street. The entire place seemed silent and dead. Then I heard voices nearby and saw lights turning on in the front yards and windows of houses. Without a moment of hesitation, I took off, sprinting blindly away from the crime scene, not caring much where I was going. Someone a few houses down came out, an old black man in his boxers and slippers. He saw me running and called out something in a quavering voice. I didn’t slow down for a moment.
Not long after, I heard the wailing of sirens off in the distance. They were drawing closer by the second. When the street abruptly ended in a cul-de-sac of mostly abandoned and dilapidated houses, I chose one at random and cut across its back yard, jumped over the rusted metal fence and kept on running, cutting across random yards and jumping more fences until I started making my way back towards downtown.
After about five minutes, I got to a street with a lot more traffic and people. Covered in sweat, I walked casually back towards my tiny, cockroach-infested apartment.
I thought I had gotten away with it. I thought I had been able to kill this worthless scumbag without anyone noticing. But there were more eyes glittering behind the veil than I realized at that moment.
I went back home- and that was the night I died and went to Hell.
***
I lived on the first floor in a building with falling-down rafters and a flat black roof like an infected scab. The paint on the outside was the color of vomit, the windows cracked and broken. Moreover, the place always smelled like Mexican food and chemicals, and every night, I would hear gunshots and panicked screams outside.
I sat down at the table and opened a beer. The ancient CRT TV was on, showing some old horror movie from the 1970s. I took a deep breath, relieved. I didn’t expect a thing to happen at that moment.
Suddenly, my door burst open as if someone had fired a cannonball at it. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Standing there, I saw a dozen black police in SWAT gear holding rifles. The laser sights jumped and danced across the floor before they converged on my head and chest. Someone screamed something in a hoarse voice, but I didn’t understand. The words sounded garbled, like the whispering of a demon. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.
I fell back in my chair in surprise. A single breath later, one of them opened fire. I felt the first bullet crash through my left shoulder, felt the bone shatter and the flesh explode behind it, warm blood running down my back and chest.
The next moment, others joined in. I didn’t feel the bullet that smashed into my head and sent me to Hell. It moved fast, faster than my nerves. It must have moved as fast as death itself.
The blackness descended on me like a cloud.
***
I don’t know how much time passed. It seemed like an eternity, full of freezing darkness and screams that came from everywhere and nowhere. I remember coming awake suddenly, standing before a face formed from blinding white light. I was healed without any signs of wound or blood from the gunshots. I found myself standing naked and alone in the freezing winds.
I was shivering, my arms wrapped protectively around my chest as I stood on a flat plain of cracked, gray stone. The wind whipped around me as if I were in a hurricane, blowing sand and dust across the eternal plains. The features of the endless face constantly melted and shifted, spiraling out with bolts of lightning that cracked and sizzled all around the hurricane of light. The face seemed to stand miles high with eyes that spun like the Sun.
“Where am I?” I whispered in terror. The face of infinite light stared down at me with a blinding intensity. It seemed to see every thought, every feeling, every memory. I could feel it looking through me as if I were glass.
“You are in the Bardo,” the being said in a voice like an exploding nuclear bomb. “I am the one who sees. I am GOD, the creator of the universe and all who live within it. In the end, to Me you will always return. Did you not know you would one day have to stand here?” I shook my head.
“No… I… I…” I stuttered in terror, unable to respond.
“I have seen your evil, for indeed, I am closer to you than your own jugular vein, your own heart. Did you not see the suffering of those who harmed the innocent, those who murdered and stole and lived their lives wallowing in filth? Did you not see them get wounded, shot, stabbed, strangled and imprisoned? Did you not see them die in their evil and return to Me?”
“I did,” I admitted. “Many times.”
“And yet you have fallen into the sickness yourself,” God said in a voice like a rushing waterfall. Fury and anger seemed to seethe from him. Dozens of bolts of lightning flashed out from all sides of that radiant face. “For this, you must be purified. Your soul must be cleansed with fire. For that is the fate of those who harm the innocent- they fall down to the bottomless pit, to the blazing inferno whose fuel is men and stones. The flames eat them all greedily, and then the fires cry out to Me for more.”
My body felt like it was covered with stinging hornets. Excruciating pins and needles ran all up and down my legs and arms. I looked down, seeing a swirling dark hole opening up underneath me in the field of gray stone, spitting out drops of liquid blackness. They splashed upwards, burning through my skin like napalm, but no blood came out. It was as if my body were dissolving into dripping shadows that pulled me downwards. I felt myself slowly falling through the eternal stone plain as unseen hands dragged me away. As I descended, I heard the voice of God one last time.
“Down into the pit you will go, to the valley of wailing and the lake of flames where the damned scream for peace that never comes, to the city of shadows, to Naraka…”
***
Beneath me, the shadowy tunnel descended. I fell through it like lightning. Everything spun around me at an incredible speed. Suddenly, I broke through something, some invisible barrier in the endless darkness. I found myself falling through a cloud of suffocating smoke, and then the world opened up all around me.
A blood-red sky with thick black clouds extended out in all directions. I glimpsed a world of sharp cliffs and rivers of lava that wound their way down mountains of obsidian.
I fell through the middle of the sky at a tremendous speed, the wind whipping around my ears like a hurricane. A scream ripped its way out of my throat, but I was traveling so fast I could barely hear it as the echoes disappeared above me. Below me was what looked like a massive lake filled with blood about half a mile wide, and it was coming up to meet me fast. Many struggling bodies writhed in the currents, trying to claw their way out. I crashed through the surface at an incredible speed, going deep under the warm crimson waves.
The bloody water of the lake filled my mouth and nose with the overwhelming taste of copper and iron. I started trying to swim back up to the surface, frantically kicking and pushing with my arms and legs. I opened my eyes, and the salty blood stung them. It looked like I was peering through a translucent red film into a world of deep-sea abominations. Long snakes with two heads swam all around me, snapping and biting at each other and any legs or arms nearby. I saw them drag people down one by one, wrapping their slick bodies around their struggling victims as they drowned.
I broke through the surface, inhaling deeply. I was worried about the snakes and whatever else was slinking around down there. Thousands of people treaded water in the massive lake, trying to make their way to the shores. The nearest person to me was only ten feet away, a young woman with panicked eyes and wavy black hair. As I watched her, she gave a scream of terror and then was dragged under the surface, struggling and kicking. She never reappeared.
All around me, I smelled the fetid rot of decaying bodies. There must have been thousands and thousands of corpses at the bottom of this bloody lake. Some of them floated on top of the surface, rancid and swollen, their sightless eyes staring up at the fiery sky. The surface of the lake constantly bubbled and writhed, though whether this was from the rotting of so many bodies or from hidden monsters breathing under the surface, I didn’t yet know.
Frantically, I looked around for the nearest shore to get out of the danger. I saw that if I swam past the direction where the young woman had been, I would only have to go about two hundred feet. But my heart hammered in my chest as I remembered her being dragged under, her frantic, panicked struggling. What if the same creature was waiting over there, waiting for someone like me to try to swim over?
There were dozens more people between me and the nearest shore. Most of them climbed out, dripping drops of crimson onto the black volcanic sands of the beaches. I made my way as fast as I could in that direction, deciding to take my chances with the snakes. Otherwise, I would have to swim at least four times as far to get to the next nearest beach, which also swarmed with masses of naked people clawing their way out of the bloody lake.
A small group of people was concentrated only twenty feet away, three men who were swimming in the same direction I was. One started screaming suddenly. A purple tentacle the color of an old bruise broke through the surface of the water. To my horror, I saw it had black spikes that clicked and clacked together all along its massive arms. The spikes resembled long, hollow hypodermic needles.
The screaming man tried to swim in the opposite direction, but the tentacle wrapped around him, pulling him above the water. It tightened like a boa constrictor, the black spikes stabbing into his chest and stomach. Countless punctures opened up all along his body. The black spikes flexed, and his ribcage ripped open with a wet, ripping sound. The man’s screams abruptly cut off as his head lolled. With a sucking sound, the hollow spikes began drinking, consuming the man’s spurting blood with a sound like an inhalation of air. Slowly, almost lazily, the tentacle began dragging his limp corpse under the surface, back towards the main body of whatever monstrosity it belonged to.
The other two gave panicked sobs as more purple tentacles broke through the surface of the lake. Frantically, I started swimming around them, giving them a wide berth. Within seconds, the other two men were dragged under, deep stab wounds opening in their bodies as the hollow spikes drank greedily with loud sucking sounds.
“Fuck!” I cried, horrified. I felt something brush past my leg, something slimy and eel-like that writhed and slithered under the opaque crimson surface. In horror, I felt its slimy skin wrap around my leg, at first loosely slithering, then tightening. Two black faces with white, lidless eyes rose out of the water, the faces of serpents with fangs like switchblades. I saw both heads were connected to a single slithering body, one that wrapped slowly around my legs and arms, strangling me. Screaming, I felt its fangs dig into my neck. As the twin pairs of lidless white eyes stared at me, I tried to fight, tried to raise my arm, but it was far too strong. It dragged me under the surface.
Struggling against the beast, feeling its poison coursing through my bloodstream like lava, I drowned in the lake of blood. The experience of drowning is horrifying beyond all measure- the overwhelming fear and anxiety when you realize you have no air, the sensation of inhaling the bloody water, the sensation of dying. My vision turned black as a suffocating, clenching fist squeezed my heart. It felt like it took an eternity, but it was probably only a couple minutes at most. Death came over me then, cold and filled with small, suffocating agonies. That was the first time I died in Hell, but it would not be my last.
For in Hell, as I quickly learned, you never truly died, but were just thrown back to the beginning.
***
I felt myself falling again through the black clouds, the Lake of Blood beneath me. It all repeated like before. I screamed as I fell through the water at an incredible speed. Eldritch monstrosities were dragging people under the surface all around me. As quickly as I could, I swam towards the nearest shore. I dared not look down, didn’t dare slow for a single moment. A few times, I was nearly swiped by large, writhing tentacles, but they found other shrieking victims nearby to my immense relief.
I didn’t want to die ever again. It was a horrible sensation, though one that I would, sadly, become used to. Death followed me like a shadow, and starting over in Hell was always a nightmare.
I gave a gasp of joy when my feet touched bottom. Running through the rippling currents of blood, naked and gasping, I came upon the black sands of the shore. Looking around the lake, I saw there were four beaches, seemingly placed at each point of the compass underneath the spinning, blood-red sky.
At the end of each of the black sands lay a sparkling silver gate fifty feet tall and hundreds of feet across. The thin strands of silver intertwined like the fine filaments of a spiderweb, spiraling around each other in graceful, curving arches. Embossed over the top were the words, “ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE.” No one seemed to pay the gate any mind. Naked crowds of struggling people stumbled through it onto the streets of Hell, streets that were paved with human bones and stretched off to the horizon.
Skyscrapers made of obsidian with spiraling windows like the murderholes of a castle stretched hundreds of stories up into the blood-red sky. As I staggered out, pressed body to body in the thick crowd of crying, wailing people, I saw ahead of us the second mortal danger of Hell.
There were countless gangs of mostly men gathered on the streets of bone, the desperate soldiers of this apocalyptic wasteland. They huddled together in groups of ten or twelve, attacking and murdering random people who tried to sprint past from the Lake of Blood. They wore crude leather tunics and pants that looked like they were made from human skin. Some wore crude masks of human skin on their faces, ragged patches of flesh that had been cut from the bodies of the dead. They stared out with cold, emotionless eyes through the holes in the dried, leathery skin, surveying the surging crowds like lions surveying their prey.
They held primitive weapons in their hands, clubs and maces made from bone, swords sharpened from obsidian glass and even wooden spears. The wood looked strange and dark, almost like mahogany. Next to them were fires with sharpened spits of roasting human meat. The fat dripped off the dismembered arms and legs sizzling over the flames. It gave off a smell like roast pork that permeated the area, rising up in thick, fragrant clouds.
I followed the surging crowds, watching in horror as the groups of armed men attacked and killed random passersby in the crowd, dragging their limp bodies next to the fires where they stacked the unconscious or dead people in stacks like cordwood. I figured they would inevitably roast their flesh for food or make pale leather armor from their dead skin. I felt myself being pushed over in the direction of the nearest group of armed thugs. A few of the nearest men wore masks made of people’s faces, though those behind them did not, only wearing the crude leather armor instead.
One of them standing only ten feet away met my eyes, his cold killer’s gaze boring through me. The mask of skin made him look like some monster from a horror movie, with its ragged, mutilated edges and garish black stitches. He took a step towards me, raising a short spear made from a human leg bone and sharpened to a blood-stained point.
In panic, I looked around, seeing a young woman in her early twenties standing next to me. She was looking straight ahead with panic and terror in her eyes, not paying any attention to me or the men that crept towards us. With all of my strength, I shoved the woman towards the masked killer. She stumbled back in surprise, falling into the man’s weapon. His bone spear stabbed through her stomach. She looked down at her naked body in horror when the point emerged from her navel, dripping rivers of blood down her trembling legs. As she spit up trickles of blood and collapsed to her knees, I ran. A sickening crack rang out behind me like a shattering of bones, and I knew they had murdered the young woman.
I sprinted away from the gangs of cannibal killers as fast as I could, which wasn’t very fast considering how many naked, screaming bodies pressed in all on me from all sides. I felt myself being carried forward by the surging masses towards the silver gate. Hanging from the delicate silver threads, I saw signs written in many languages. I found one in English and started reading it with rapt attention, even as I was relentlessly pushed forward and elbowed and kicked.
I still remember what it said by heart.
“Rules for Naraka:

1. Those who are damned will be fed from the fountain of life. GOD will ensure your rebirth at the Lake of Blood. Though death may crush you over and over, there will be no rest.
2. Stay away from the Screamers, the faceless ones who roam the land. Those who are taken by the Screamers will know endless torment and madness in the caverns deep under the ground.
3. When the sirens in the center of Naraka wail, the firestorms are coming. Seek shelter immediately.
4. Those rare ones who ascend the silver spire at the end of Naraka may find salvation, even in the city of shadows.”

As I was pushed forward, I read the sharp, copperplate engraving scrawled across the silver signs in glowing red letters, trying to memorize every single word. At the time, none of it made much sense, but I instinctively felt that it was immensely important in some way I didn’t yet understand.
Immediately outside the gate, the beach turned into a road paved with bones. Leg bones and arm bones were laid side by side, yellowing and drying under the dark crimson sky. Skulls embedded in the center of the road grinned up at me, laughing at silent secrets I could never hope to comprehend.
Naked and barefoot, I sprinted down the road of bones between massive skyscrapers of black obsidian and gleaming red volcanic rock. People started to thin as the survivors scattered in all directions. I felt the sharp points of bone stabbing into the soles of my feet.
That was the moment the sirens began their eerie wailing, rising and falling in a dissonant cacophony, slower and deeper than any tornado siren I had ever heard. It sounded almost like a whale call, stretching out over the infernal city. They sounded from all around us, seemingly ringing out from thousands of speakers hidden throughout the obsidian towers.
I looked up suddenly. The crimson sky had changed rapidly, forming into a cyclone that swirled overhead in great black and red spirals. It met in a fiery eye at the center. As I looked up, I saw glowing orange hail soaring through the air, leaving behind streaks like thousands of comets. It fell towards the naked masses of tens of thousands of bodies pressed together on the streets.
At that moment, I remembered the rules. Some of the others apparently hadn’t read them during the panic and horror of the escape from the Lake of Blood, and they continued surging forward down the road as fire began to fall like drops of napalm all around us. Wails of agony rose up from those who were covered in the glowing lava. The people in the front of the crowd immediately fell under the heat and destruction of the firestorm. Their hair lit on fire, their skin melted and blackened, and still more fire rained down from the sky, sweeping relentlessly in our direction.
I saw an obsidian skyscraper with a great, open archway only a couple hundred feet away. The nearest of the crowd scrambled to find cover under the safety of the building. I sprinted along with them. As I reached the threshold, I felt the first burning drops of magma land on my back. I screamed as I smelled my own skin cooking and my own hair burning, and then I was through the archway. I fell, rolling on my back, trying to put out the sizzling fires that burned me like some corrosive acid.
I felt rivers of warm blood running down my back as more people ran past me, deeper into the hall. The skyscraper was massive, not only in height but in width. The hallway ran for hundreds of feet, disappearing into doorless thresholds on both sides cleaved out of the obsidian, as if the entire structure had been carved from one enormous piece of glassy stone. In the center of the hallway, it opened up into a spiraling staircase.
I looked up abruptly to see three men wearing masks made of human skin standing over me, each holding primitive bone spears in their filthy, blood-stained hands. They looked emaciated, wasted away, like the walking corpses of a death camp. To my utter astonishment, even through the layer of dried, ragged skin, I recognized one of them. It was in his gray eyes, and the twisting dragon tattoos that covered his arms and chest instantly brought a flash of memory.
“Shooter,” I said as they raised their weapons. “Shooter, it’s me. Remember me? It’s Richie.” He froze in place, looking down at me with widening eyes.
“Holy shit, Richie?” he said, tearing the mask off. “What are you doing here?” It was an absurd question, of course. What were any of us doing here?
The last time I had seen Shooter, he had been sitting a pile of blood in his car. He was one of the designated gunman for the Solid Ones, the gang we had both joined when we were young. The amazing luck of finding another Solid in this place of death was astounding. But, then again, I had known many people who had died, and I had a feeling the vast majority were here somewhere.
“I guess I died,” I said sheepishly, giving him a faint half-smile. The other two men standing by his side lowered their weapons. “Fucking pigs came in and shot me.”
“Ah, yeah,” he said, unsurprised. “They do have a tendency to do that.” He gave a low laugh. I took a long look at Shooter, who was wearing the pale skin of some unknown victim or victims of this place of agony. He reached a trembling hand down and pulled me up from the smooth surface of this strange skyscraper. More naked, scared people continued to stream past us as the sirens continued their infernal shrieking outside. Many of them had horrific burns all over their body, and a few were clearly on the verge of death by the time they had made it inside.
Farther down the hall, another ten men wearing the same garb as Shooter came towards us, holding sharpened swords of obsidian and thick clubs made of bone. Shooter put his hands up.
“Hey, I know this guy,” he said calmly, motioning over to me with an apathetic wave of his head. “He was in the same gang as me! We used to go around having a great time, I’ll tell you. Remember that time we shot at that cop and he pissed himself?” He gave a racuous laugh at that. I smiled as the memory flooded back. Shooter had definitely hit him, though I think I probably missed. I remembered the blood soaking over the arm of cop’s uniform as he lay there, gasping and turning white, his face looking bloodless and shocked. Shooter and I had run away, high-fiving each other and grinning like maniacs.
“Yeah, I do,” I said, grinning. The other men surrounded me in a semi-circle. Shooter knelt down and extended a hand to me, helping me off the ground.
“Well, you’re in good company,” he said. “Here, we can do whatever the fuck we want. What’s going to happen, after all? It’s not like we can be sent to Hell.” He laughed, and that laughter writhed with the insanity and bloodlust that seemed to be eating him from the inside like a cancer.
***
“We still need to take him to the Sergeant,” one of the masked men next to Shooter said. “We can see if he has the right stuff needed to fight with us.”
“What happens when you guys die?” I asked. “I mean, obviously, you restart at the Lake of Blood, but how do you find your way back to your gang?” Shooter shrugged.
“We always find each other again eventually,” he said. “It’s not like there’s any lack of time here. All we have is time- and fresh meat, of course. There’s always more fresh meat streaming in through the Lake of Blood. We can take whatever we need from them…” The wailing of the sirens suddenly ended as he spoke. I looked around, seeing burnt and dying people still struggling into the front hallway of the skyscraper. The smell of burning hair and searing flesh filled the entire area.
“Come on,” one of the men said. His voice was gruff, as if he had been chainsmoking five packs a day since he was a little kid. “The Sergeant is on the top floor. You’ll have to talk to him.” I nodded, knowing they would certainly kill me if I did not join their group.
But at that moment, something much worse than dying, blackened bodies crawled in through the archway. I saw it before the group of men did. Instinctively upon glimpsing it, I knew it was something terrible, something that could only live in the depths of a psychotic’s nightmare.
It stood nearly ten feet tall. Its skin was as pale as a writhing maggot. On its hairless face, I saw no eyes, no nose, no ears, just smooth, bone-white skin. It had thin lips tied together with black thread, the garish stitches poking out from the ragged, bloodless flesh. Its arms and legs looked inhumanly long and thin. Its ribs and spine jutted out as if it were a starving, rabid animal. From all around its body, an inhuman wailing started, as if dozens of demonic voices were shrieking in unison. Yet its mouth stayed firmly closed, still stitched shut.
Its fingers jutted out like railroad spikes, each a foot long. As its screaming intensified, it ran towards us, crushing the dying and injured under its naked, twisted feet. I stared into its pale, bloodless face, and even though it had no eyes, it felt like it stared straight back at me, looking into my soul.
“Don’t look at it!” Shooter screamed next to me, turning his face away. The rest of the men closed their eyes or turned away, backpedaling away from the abomination. “It will take on the shape of what you fear most! It’s a Screamer!” But it was too late. At that moment, something strange happened to the pale, naked body of the Screamer. It rippled like a mirage sizzling off the sands of a desert. Its body squeezed and contorted as the distorted shrieking around its pale, naked body grew louder and more insane.
Thin stalks of black, spidery legs began jutting out of the sides of its chest. Its face melted like wax as glittering compound eyes sprouted from the top of its head. Within seconds, it had turned into a massive spider, a black widow whose head nearly scraped the ceiling twenty feet above us. The red hourglass on its back shone brightly, as if in reminder of the imminent death it brought to anyone it touched.
I hate spiders. I’ve always hated spiders. When I saw that skittering, crawling monstrosity, something in me broke. I sprinted towards the group of men who were trying to do their best to escape without looking directly at the Screamer, hoping that the spider would choose one of them instead of me. But I heard its massive bulk following closely behind me. I could feel its insectile breath on the back of my neck.
Naked and frantic, I sprinted behind the nearest of the men and used the same tactic I had used escaping through the silver gate: I pushed the unsuspecting figure towards the abomination that rushed towards us in a blur, its eight legs pounding the glassy floor with reverberating thuds.
Drops of clear venom dripped from its fangs as it grabbed the struggling man. It bit deeply into his leg, and as the venom dripped onto his skin, it seemed to eat through his flesh like some sort of acid. The man screamed as red streaks rapidly spread up his leg throughout the rest of his body. His teeth began chattering and his pupils dilated as he stared at me accusingly. But he did not die.
The spider grabbed him and dragged him away down the hallway, down to wherever the victims of the Screamers go. I saw a dozen more of the pale, faceless monstrosities rushing in to take his place. The men looked up, and the Screamers erupted into monstrous shapes: giant, slithering snakes, a floating eyeball with black, squid-like tentacles writhing around its central mass, enormous brown recluses and black widows and faceless Grim Reapers who floated over the ground in black robes. The overwhelming sense of fear and panic I felt at that moment still stays with me to this day, and even though this happened a couple days ago and I did eventually make it out of that den of horrors, it still leaves a deep scar across my mind.
As visions from a nightmare approached us, I turned and ran.

I was wondering what everyone’s opinion is on the proposed arts center where the amphitheater and museum currently are in Mizner Park. Despite its massive cost there hasn’t been much discussion and I don’t think too many residents are aware of what it is.
First off, I in my opinion, the whole project look UGLY! It strictly contrasts with the Mediterranean style of the rest of Mizner Park.
I feel this will be a colossal failure far overshadowing previous failures such as the cartoon art museum. In addition, despite $150 being a pretty high price tag, it looks like the project will cost a lot more based on the proposal, to include an underground parking garage as well as a retractable translucent roof. Who will be responsible for inevitable cost over runs during construction? https://floridayimby.com/2024/04/acclaimed-architect-renzo-piano-unveils-first-concept-design-for-the-center-for-arts-innovation-in-boca-raton.html

Does anyone know the (ball-park) cost of replacing a tiled roof with a corrugated metal roof on a standard, single-story 3 bed, 2 bath, double garage house? I understand it would be a very rough estimate - just need a goal to start saving towards.
Also, any recommendations for companies that do a decent job & how long should it take?
Thanks in advance 🙂

My home had a full reroof as part of our purchase contract. After 8 years, I am having issues with a leak in the kitchen. In climbing up on the ladder, you quickly notice a dip where the leak happened and along that line all across the back of the house. I called in a warranty claim only to be told. It’s probably because of the low slope of my roof or some nonsense like that. I climbed up there today to notice visible layer of felt covered corrugated material between the shingles and drip plate across the entire back of the house. This layer seems to have raised these shingles higher on the edges thus explaining some of those smaller dips. I’ve looked at a million pictures of roofs online looking for a similar extra layer and haven’t seen anything remotely close. Does this belong or does anybody have any idea what this is? pics here: https://photos.app.goo.gl/4aYFSHqEyyERC5iE8

· Since last year, 56% MSMEs have experienced a business growth of 20-30%, debugging slowdown debate
· Average shipment value of MSMEs is Rs 1.4 million per month
· Customer Acquisition, Recruitment, Packaging and Inventory Management are the biggest pain points faced by MSMEs
At the heart of the Indian economy lies the Micro, Small, and Medium-Sized Enterprises – MSME segment, playing a vital role in India’s overall GDP as a driving force of growth and innovation. Borzo (erstwhile WeFast), a global intra-city delivery service, has conducted a comprehensive study aimed at gaining insights into the operational dynamics of Micro, Small, and Medium Enterprises (MSMEs) and their delivery requirements.
In addition to facing various pain points such as Financing, Packaging Solutions, Manpower and Inventory Management, MSMEs now face the imperative of meeting the burgeoning demand with the help of Fast (speed), accurate, and cost-effective same-day deliveries. The study on understanding MSMEs preferences was carried out through a survey that delved into various aspects of MSME operations, including shipment preferences, order volumes, business needs, Pain points and more. The survey focused on MSMEs availing logistics support for maximum 20kg load. Here’s a detailed breakdown of the key findings:
1. MSME Leadership:
MSMEs are often ledand driven by Business owners which is evident as nearly three-fourths (74%) of respondents identified themselves as business owners, indicating a significant proportion of entrepreneurial representation in the survey. 26% of MSMEs are led by various managers in the roles of operations/logistics managers, sales managers, and marketing managers, highlighting the diverse range of leadership involved in MSME operations.
2. Top 6 MSME Pain Points and Challenges
· Amongst the key pain points faced by MSMEs, Customer Acquisition is a prominent challenge as 16% MSMEs cite it to be a big pain point. At 13% Recruitment is another big challenge hindering MSMEs. Packaging and Inventory Management at 12% and 11% respectively pose significant operational challenges for MSMEs.
· Debtors/Payment Collection at 8% and Lack of Financing at 5% are a hindrance to the cash flow of MSMEs. In addition to this, various other pain points such as Operational efficiency, Pricing and margins and Competition are some of the other challenges that MSMEs have to navigate.
· To Champion MSMEs’ cause and provide them with effective solutions to solve their major pain points, Borzo is organizing a large-scale MSME conference titled Borzo Connect at NESCO, Mumbai on June 21st, 2024, log on to https://borzoconnect.com/
3. Business Operations:
· Shipping Destinations:
MSMEs have been able to cater to multiple cities through Logistics support. Over 70% of shipping by MSMEs takes place in Mumbai, Delhi, Bangalore, Hyderabad, Kolkata, Chennai, Pune, Ahmedabad and Jaipur. Some of the notable Smart cities, Tier 2 and Tier 3 cities that are gaining momentum amongst MSMEs include Vadodara, Nagpur, Kochi, Jammu, Nashik, Rajkot, Indore, Surat, Chandigarh, Ludhiana, Roorkee, Raipur, Guntur, Mangalore, Jodhpur, Malegaon, Dehradun, Haridwar, Ranchi, Aurangabad, Ratlam, Faridabad to name a few.
· Same City Domination:
Nearly half of the respondents (50%) reported that more than 70% of their total orders consist of within the same city, highlighting the significance of intra-city deliveries for MSMEs.
· Product Categories:
MSMEs with diverse product categories were represented, with food & beverages being highest at 23.1%, apparels and fashion at 13.6%, gifting, pharma, textiles, and others showcasing the diverse range of offerings by MSMEs.
· Retail vs. Online Business:
The survey revealed a balanced distribution between retail and online businesses, with a significant proportion (31.5%) operating through both channels Retail and Online, indicating a multi-channel approach adopted by many MSMEs. Only Retail MSMEs were 29.6% and 40% were online businesses.
4. Delivery Timeline:
Giving a new spin to the debate of quick commerce and 10-minute delivery, majority of MSMEs (59%) preferred delivery within 60 minutes, emphasizing the importance of meeting customer expectations and business requirements. 20.5% MSMEs prefer any timeline but same-day delivery.
72% MSMEs prefer Speed and Quality of delivery to ensure a seamless experience for their customers and vendors. 18% MSMEs value speed as opposed to quality whereas 10% value quality over speed of delivery.
5. Business Performance:
Monthly Shipment Value:
The average Monthly shipment value of MSMEs is approximately Rs 1.4 million per month. On the lower side it ranged between Rs 50,000 to Rs 2,00,000 per month and on the higher side it was in the range of Rs 50 Lakhs to Rs 1 Crore. Over 80% MSMEs said that the Monthly shipment value is in the range of Rs 50,000 to Rs 10 lakh per month.
Change in Shipment Value since Last Year:
Shipment value refers to the total value of products in the shipment. The survey revealed that Majority of MSME, 56%, received an increase in shipment value by 20%-30% whereas18% MSMEs experienced an increase of 50% and 15% MSMEs received an increase in shipment value in the range of 30% to 40%. All MSMEs have not been doing that well as 2.6%
Nearly 3% MSMEs experienced a decrease in shipment value by more than 50%. The varied trends in shipment value, with more than 95% MSMEs showing an increase compared to last year, significantly highlights the potential growth opportunities for MSMEs and does not show economic slowdown.
Economic Slowdown:
A staggering 78.6% MSMEs believe that there is no slowdown in their business but rather there is an increase in demand. However, 4% of MSMEssaid that they are facing a slowdown in business.
6. Key Business info:
Average Ticket Size of Online Orders:
The average per order ticket size is in the range of Rs 750 to Rs 1500. On some days, the average ticket size perorder can drop below Rs 750 in the range of Rs 180 to Rs 650 and can increase to the range of Rs 2500 to Rs 3500.
The daily average ticket size of orders are in the range of Rs 9500 to Rs 15,000. MSMEs experience a rise in daily ticket size of orders in the range of Rs 18,000 – Rs 22,000.
Average Monthly Orders:
Majority 51% MSMEs receive an average of less than 1000 orders per month. Approximately 25% of MSMEs receive orders in the range of 1000 TO 10,000 monthly. 6.6% MSMEs received orders in excess of 10,000 per month. The scale and range of average monthly orders reflects the diverse scale of operations among MSMEs.
7. Sustainability and Automation:
Use of Sustainable Packaging:
A staggering majority (66.6%) of MSMEs reported using sustainable packaging materials, indicating a growing emphasis on environmental responsibility within the business community. 33.3% MSMEs have not yet transitioned towards eco-friendly packaging materials.
Packaging material:
Sustainable packaging materials that MSMEs use on a daily basis include Bagasse and Biodegradable boxes, Cardboard boxes, Corrugated boxes, Cloth bags, Large paper envelopes, Jute bags and envelopes, Paper bags, Recyclable Plastic like Bubble wraps, Bio plastic to name a few.
Automation in Supply Chain:
The survey highlighted a high adoption rate (85%) of supply chain automation among MSMEs, amplifying the tech adoption in MSMEs, efficiency and scalability in operations.
“At Borzo, we hold the belief that the SME sector constitutes the foundation of the Indian economy. From the bustling streets of Mumbai and burgeoning markets of Delhi, to the buzzing Tier 2 cities, MSMEs stand as pillars of innovation and growth. While challenges such as financing, sales and customer acquisition, inventory management persist, MSMEs are also embracing the need for sustainable packaging, precise, and cost-effective same-day deliveries to meet evolving customer demands. Companies allied to serving MSMEs need to envision and ensure that MSMEs thrive amidst evolving processes and technology and are gaining significant knowledge to do so. Given the diverse nature of cities, varying routes, and delivery requirements, MSMEs need robust logistics assistance to fuel their expansion.”, Mr. Eugene Panfilov, Managing Director, Borzo India and Regional Director, Borzo, Brazil.
MSMEs rely heavily on on-demand logistics same day delivery to fulfil their orders timely. In addition to using Borzo, MSMEs also avail logistics services of various companies in different capacities, showcasing a diverse range of delivery options available to MSMEs.
To address various MSME pain points Borzo is organizing a large-scale MSME meet called Borzo Connect in Mumbai on June 21st, 2024. Borzo Connect aims to bring MSMEs from Mumbai under one roof and provide them with networking opportunities. Borzo Connect is expected to host thousands of MSMEs and corporations at NESCO in Mumbai. For more information about the event, visit: https://borzoconnect.com/
In India, Borzo has a fleet of over 80,000 delivery partners who serve the Enterprise hyperlocal and SME segment.
Source Link: https://www.indian-apparel.com/borzos-msme-study-reveals-surge-in-business-amidst-challenges/
Website Link: https://borzodelivery.com/in
Borzo’s Event Link: https://borzoconnect.com/

I am cutting out 1/4 of the roof from a 20 foot shipping container, and i need to buy a winch for the door to open/close. How can i find the weight of the steel? the measurements of the roof is 5 feet long and 8 feet wide for the portion that i am cutting, but the thickness of the roof is one inch of Corrugated steel so i am not super sure of the weight. i used an online calculator and the total wight came out to 1633.536 pounds, but not taking in to account of the corrugated steel.