TL;DR; This is a sample summary of the TLDR rule, all things are bold. Is this going the right way?.
Hmm hey reddit m new here nd don't know much about stuff but I don't have any frnds to share what I am actually going through so thought of just dumping it here m just another 12th grader
It all starts from 10th grade where I was a very avg student but kinda interested in economics and stuff so obv wanted to take commerce but parents being parents gave me the baton for science coz ' Ghar me kisi ne commerce ni liya hai ' I said them I couldn't but they dint hear me so started off with the most hectic schooling in a very strictly JEE oriented coaching centre where for the first 3 mnths I dint realise what was happening sat there at the first bench wondering what I am doing here nthg went thru my head rather a bouncer until I got some stability in the 4th month started off kowith covering the stuff I had backlogged I came across a girl prepping for her neet examinations I unknowingly started liking her she wouldn't come online until late night so got my sleep schedule fucked until n unless in November I finally asked her out where she made a joke off what I had done for her like everything that broke me down but the fact that she had made a fun out of me helped me move on a little bit 1st year got over and since it was a coaching centre I dint give no exams for 11th
12th grade Where I was okish with the whole thing and it was kinda getting better for me to start off with things I had a small frnds group in which a guy we call him 'jawline' had a crush on a girl say ' green ' for the past 2 yrs now ( since starting of 11th) I got back in rythm to study trying to cope up atleast for the 12th boards until in second or third week of 12th grade I met green causally walking home after a Sunday exam we talked and kinda vibed to the way I spoke and the way she reacted we grew to be good frnds. Jawline in the meanwhile was insecure coz I could potentially steal her crush but I just talked normally and she was on with it and dint have any kinda interest in the guy who she had told about it in the very very beginning clear and cut that I like u as a frnd but nthg more than that at jawline instead changed his frnd circle to hers to get closer to her there was a giraffe a snake a horse and green. Green and giraffe were kinda good frnds since 6th grade so it was more elike bro sis so I was fine with it snake was bestie of green and jawline had made good frnds with her to uk get to know about green more.
Cut to July where me and green started to have a good chemistry we talked long hours in class but she had to give the time to her frnds too I dint mind it and this was a eye cracker for jawline he started conspiring against me since then moving to August we both knew we had smthg for each other August was when we had a event in the school and had to prep for it jawline was an amazing guitarist but equally better of a singer was me so it was always a competitive thing to get more audience ig he tried and convinced her for a musical performance on stage in front of 760+ PPL but school said only 1 such big singing performance would be allowed and dances were usual out frnd circle the remaining ones prepared for the best dance the school would see in the mean time green with her female frnds planned a dance too I was given the job to mix and master their tracks for performances and did it cleanly Augusts second last week where we had to stay for long hours to prepare the dances and singing The singing had now become a band of 3 guitarists 2 singers (lead) and 1 drummer and 1 cajon player. I danced for 3 hrs and then sang my lungs out for the remaining 2 hrs of the day where she would merely find time to prepare for the singing it kinda pissed me off so I confronted saying ' mere liye time nahi hai kya ?' jawline heard it and was pissed he told me on the face that ' it was my plan for the music why poking your nose ' I told alr I'll be out of it but green stopped me and told jawline in the face that she wanted me there else she wouldn't sing either jawline now knew that things had gone out of his hands Cut to 2 days before the event I was tired in the room everyone packing their stuff up for the last trial for the day she came and saw I was tired offered me some water we drank from the same bottle yea kinda kiddish but jawline was again offended he went upto my frnd and told ' doesn't he know I like her since the start of the year why has he been trying on her lately' frnds came back to me and told ki don't, leave her alone else it's gonna be a dispute but hey I wasn't the only one it was a two sided stuff Again to the trial room we finished our performance and all about to leave me green and potato ( my frnd) were sitting in the room idk what went through my head I pulled her chair close to mine potato dint give a fuck so yea She was all red and tired I went close brushed the hair on her face to the back uk what's coming but no I dint kiss her instead told her not so early I saw the look in her eyes where she was totally sold the while I was near her jawline saw he went bangers he shouted at me 'what u doing' I said 'nthg what's bothering you ' he walked out in brisk pace nothing followed But the conspiracy of ßnake giraffe and jawline continued
Event The day of event I reached the school early looking absolutely hot ( ngl I was ) she pulled up in a stunning green saree he lipstick was kinda off so I j wipped it off and snake was offended and told u don't need to do that she can do it on her own green gave me the ( you shouldn't care about her ) look clearing off I sat in the bus with equipments and the institute being the institute pulled a all girls and boy separate move but snake (girl) giraffe and horse with jawline sat with green in the female bus Reaching the destination wedding unpacked the stuff got it settled backstage Ready for my performance with the boys to be the show stopper before lunch and rhe call back band performance after lunch Out went well boys and threw a absolute banger the crowd went nutssss along with the principal and Dean etc etc Coming down stage she held my elbow and told ' bhot Sundar dance Kiya ' took a whiff off her eyes with kajal and ounched it behind my ears (Nazar na Lage) she carried on to the lunch but I had to setup the equipment on the stage doing that I was tired green got me some kulfi we both sat there backstage eating off the same one Lunch got over we got back on stage and the performance was a absolute flop coz mics dint work but we weren't bothered coz our dance was amazing so yea later on the girls ( with green and snake ) went up there to perform the did it amazingly she came down the stage and I repeated what she had done to me After it all their gang was sitting in the front But only green and I were all the way back in the end of the crowd where again it was a boys girls seperate but the organisers were my frnds so we managed I sat there with my hands across her shoulders clearing out the hair from her face every now and then snake and horse both came searching for green but luckily I wiffed my hand back to myself they said ' kaha ho yaar aage aakr baitho na ' green then left telling she would meet after sometime she came back and we sat there until my frnd showed up with a bottle of coke which had some ... Innit green asked me if I were to drink it I said yes she held my hand and said ' mat piyo na meri Kasam hai' I left the drink back event was coming to the end where jawline had a plan of asking her out on the day with the last performance where he sang kesariya and we hyped it coz comeon I was his frnd even if he dint consider me Event get over we were taking our stuff the the busses again i had the amp ( amplifier) in my had but my coat left in the front green returened back with it and was about to leave not seeing me come from the front gate she came running over thru the back one where I was leaving her frnds called her to another bus but she dint go with them instead with me we had a close time in the bus ( not physically) having teachers sit behind us she held my hand under the chair of the bus she burst into tears saying how over whelming it was I told her it was about the moment to enjoy coz I am a firm believer of what if we aren't alive Tom so yeah reached school with a lot of memories and talks and cries in the bus jawline had 8 missed calls on my phone snake giraffe and horse were very concerned we got down I was tired and high on life they thought I was drunk lol but I wasn't we hadn't clicked a pic together since she dint let me have my hands on her shoulder so I said no too but once at the school she picked my hand kept it on her shoulders and got a pic clicked
September We wrote letters and exchanged it in school sat together in free periods holding hands like 4th graders pookie things uk Until in a letter she told where would we endup to And as every guy would desire with her loved one I told a marriage but also mentioned it was too early to think about it rather enjoy what we have Walks in the first batch of pain where she told her parents would accept a guy not from where she belonged I convinced her to just enjoy what's there we still continued writing letter etc
Strike of busses No busses were on the move I had to travel on my own the day was gloomy and windy not many at school coz transport wasn't available every left the class it was me and her she packing her bag to leave looked at me from the side I also in the flow walked behind her and gave her a back hug( biggest blunder) I could feel her shiver it was cold after all calming her down we left until behind a bus she hugged me back ( the first one she ever had ) I gave her a forehead kiss
The letters continued so did the conspiracy another day walking back home her mom saw me walk beside her green told me not to talk to her as it would be like adding another character ( Her mom alr knew about jawline trying on green) So idint I walked my path 2 days later I felt a change in her behaviour she would walk down to talk to her frnds not 5 steps back to talk to me painfull innit
I finally asked her what the matter was turned out her mom told her to stay away from me coz I dint seem like a good guy and she being she dint say anything back either so seeing that things could go wrong I had another long talk telling her how we could figure smthg out now that along with letter she would call from her dad's phone every possible Sunday at night and we would talk all night we talked another night how we could do smthg but now I could see her flee away
Days later when she completely stopped talking no letters or anything I asked what happened and she told me she is sorry but is not able to prioritise me over what her mom said absolutely fine but why the answer to the why is still a mystery It's now me again at a stage where 5 mnths are left for my jee and boards where I used to study for the middle time when with her
October None of the October since my birth have gone good this was nthg new 1oct she called and told me that she couldn't do it coz it felt inappropriate The last time I dint get a reply to my letter I broke my knuckle so she was concerned about it too She told she would think and let me know the next day but me to not do anything to myself until then alr is all I told Next day oct 2nd She called we spoke for mere an hour but ended crying till morning 6 where she told it was none of us but the circumstances she cut the call That day onwards I smoked my lungs out the next week I was puking blood had a broken hand Stomach slits 0 food intake but dint touch alcohol coz she told me so Studies took a downfall STRAIGHT DOWN I couldn't do anything I wasn't able to eat speak or anything either lost around 9 kgs in mere October Calling it off she had given me her mail id to which I mailed but she replied as if we dint know each other and we're completely strangers I used to call her scammer and so did I write on her bench expectjng a reply she did reply with a scammer with ❤️ but nthg else her birthday was the last hope ( I had written over 75mails in the mean time ) I gifted her a watch in green with a letter written out of pure blood coz comeon personalization No reply to the letter no reply to mails until one day she mailed back saying a thanks for the watch I dint get reply or answers to any of the questions my health has been the same ever since Turning out I got to know that it was snake giraffe and horse with jawline who told her mom I wasn't a good guy is the worst part they even tried to fill greens ears earlier to stay away from me I studied in the last week for jee mains for a 72%ile and a 71% in boards miraculously but not able to do anything except that I have cried out alot infact a stage where mom too knew smthg was wrong School has now come to an end I have been going to her lane every day expecting to see her for once she dint wish me on my birthday either Bw this my dad got a stend operated in his heart I lost my granny who I told about green too lost my uncle too with all of this in my head studies became a not possible thing to do I gave some entrances got some colleges but dad wants me to do more the so called frnds too now don't care bout me anymore I am genuinely alone now with mails every day to her waking around 18kms both the ways to see her and smoking like a dickhead but nthgs happening idfk what to do her letters are still with me her scrunchie is yet with me the bottle we drank off is yet with me the chocolate wrappers I gave her are yet with me I haven't eaten a single chocolate since then coz I'd only eat if she had taken a bite off it she was vegetarian I left non veg too that's what her dad did for her mom also I have never touched alcohol coz she told me not to I don't fucking know what m i supposed to do. If yall got any idea that could possibly help in any aspect in my life pls share it with me Pls don't say gym or stuff coz I have tried that too Prayers ? I have been praying for her since the day she left me it's been 227 days since we last talked and I feel like I am at the wrong side even now The worst part I still love her the way I used to What should I do?

Walking the Path together (Part 16)

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Part 16: The awakening of the heart
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As the Mysterious Stranger and the Seeker leave the old castle behind, they continue on the snow-covered path. A path appears on the right side, following parallel to their own. The two paths merge into one, which leads towards a volcano. As they progress, another parallel path from the left side merges as well with the current one.
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In the distance, the Seeker spots a building, where the path tilts uphill. A sign points at a crossroad. An intersection, between realms. The crossroads, where all timelines meet up: Where the westward and the eastward paths meets the northern road.
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Where the paths meet, stands a tavern. The lights are on. The chimney is smoking. A sign shows its name:
'The Red Ditch Inn'
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“Wanna get something to drink,” asks the Stranger the Seeker.
“Sure, why not,” accepts the Seeker.
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Before he opens the door knob, the Stranger hesitates and speaks to the Seeker:
“This is the bar, where the timelines of our souls meet up. This is the crossing of our life-paths, the intersection of fate. Be prepared, for what happens next.”
The Seeker and the Stranger walk into the building. As they open the door, they are started by the loud conversations. The inn is full. Many tables with different animals of all species.
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The table in the center of the bar, has a label saying: ''
Around that table sit all kinds of different birds and animals. Pigeons, squirrels, Reptiles, cats, dogs, wolves, foxes, crows, mice, sloths. They are mostly talking about crystals and past lives.
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There was a table, which said: ''. There sat an old bear, who carries many scars, wounded by countless battles, teaching young bear cups, who attentively listen to their elders. Some are making notes.
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Next to it, is a table with a label saying: ''
There sit some parrots all repeating the same mantra in unison:
“BEFORE ENLIGHTENMENT CHOP WOOD CARRY WATER, AFTER ENLIGHTENMENT CHOP WOOD CARRY WATER.”
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There is another table, called: ''
There sit a caterpillar, a spider, a scorpion and an eagle.
“You have an Ego,” shouts the caterpillar at the spider, pointing his finger.
“No, you have an Ego,” shouts the spider back at the caterpillar.
“You both have an Ego,” accuses the scorpion both the caterpillar and the spider.
“Hey,” shouts the bird. “I am the eagle here!”
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Next to it, is the table of ''. The chairs are completely empty. There is no one here.
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On the other side there is another table with many different birds and mammals, some more exotic animals from all around the world. The label says ''. There is someone constantly screaming at the top of their lungs:
“I AM A PROFFESIONAL PSYCHIC READER WITH 14 YEARS OF EXPERIENCE!”
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One table next to it is called ''. The people sitting there do not look like animals, but like strange aliens. Some small and green beings, others big and gray, some with fur, some with scales, some humanoid. They were mostly talking about the past, exchanging some old memories. Among them is a chicken, who wears an alien costume.
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As one of the Grey beings stands up to go to the toilet, the chicken whispers to the others:
“Psst guys, I think Fred may not be an actual Starseed.”
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The other beings around the table start mumbling.
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There is one more table called ''. The Stranger walks towards their table.
“Jo, wazzup Shawty,” greets the Stranger an old friend at the psychonaut-table, with a fist bump. “Long time no see.”
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“Whoa, it's YOU,” responds the Tiger at the table, with red eyes, smoking his bong. “Last time I've seen you, I was like in DMT realm.”
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“Is Burt anywhere around?” asks the Stranger.
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“He is sitting there in the corner,” responds Shawty. The tiger points at a traumatized racoon sitting in the dark corner.
“I have seen too much,” mumbles the Burt the Racoon with eyes wide open, like a scratched record.
“I have traveled too far... I have seen, what lies within the emptiness. Never again... I will never do shrooms again...”
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Suddenly the waiter taps the racoons shoulder, ripping him out of his thought loop.
“Sir... Do you wanna order anything?”
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“Do you have McKennaii?”
“Yes,” responds the waiter.
“Then I'll have 7 grams,” orders the racoon.
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The Seeker has a sudden thought and looks at the Stranger.
“What does the ' slash' on the tables, stand for?”
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“I don't know...,” shrugs the Stranger. “ It's probably to reserve the table at this inn.”
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The Stranger looks at all the tables, they are all talking and talking. Some are playing poker, others are playing dart, some drunks fight each other. Others talk about their identity or their favorite dogma. Some are showing off, how enlightened they are.
As they stand at the crossroads, they can either go Westwards, Eastwards and Northwards. Many have taken the western route, many have went eastwards, but they always ended back at the 'Red Ditch Inn' again.
The newbies, were unsure, whether to go west or east. The experienced ones, knew it doesn't make a difference, they would end up at the bar again anyway. Some were stuck in the bar since many decades, they had given up hope to ever find a way out. But few of them ever dared to walk northwards.
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The Stranger sighs, as he looks around. His eyes flame up, he inhales deeply and climbs on a chair. With a raised voice he speaks:
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“When did we lose our heart?
We lost our heart collectively.
Did we lose it, when we were still cavemen? When we had to survive the cold winters of the ice age? When we hunted down the last Homo Neanderthalensis? Or later on, when the first tribes waged war against each other? Did we lose our heart, when we enslaved each other? Did we lose our hearts, when we dropped atom bombs, or when we caused our first mass extinctions...The crimes, that Humans do in wars... All of us carry the sins of our forefathers on our shoulders.
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We lost our hearts individually.
For the person it starts pretty early in their childhood. We lose our trust, when we are lied to. Almost everyone tastes the pain of Betrayal at least once in life. We are deeply wounded from childhood on. We learn early on, that humans hurt us and thus we become suspicious of humans. We learn not to trust each other. Because we are afraid of being hurt again. And so we close off our heart to protect it.
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What is the heart?
I am not talking about the physical organ. I talk about this part in your 'soul', if I may call it that. It's like the core of our 'soul', of our 'astral body'. The centre of our 'energy' or chakras. We are afraid to open it, because it's very vulnerable. That's why we protect it. We are afraid to open it, because we don't trust each other.
But unless your heart is open, you can never experience unconditional love. Its flame must be activated.
The heart is your connection to everything. The heart is what connects you to 'source', if that's the word, you'd like to use. The heart is from where our love flows.
We have cut off the connection and became separated from the ALL. We made love conditional. We split hating from loving, dislike from like and created duality. We became attached. We let ourselves be corrupted by the Ego.
Now that we have closed the heart, what have we done to the world?
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We turned the world into a place, that almost no one likes. We created a society, that keeps us in narrow boxes. We made the world a lonely place, for everyone to be in. Even in groups, we often feel lonely. We allowed money to rule over us. We allowed ideologies to split us and dogmas to control us.
We have so many different issues, that we just can't seem to overcome. Climate change. Wars. Corrupt politicians. Poverty. Starvation. Meaninglessness. Nihilism.
Where should we start with all that mess?
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With ourselves. That is the place, where the transformation needs to start. We need to evolve. One person at a time. Only then, can the collective transform as well.
We need to open the mind and the heart. To see and to feel. To be aware and to love. We need to find harmony within ourselves. End the inner conflict and find peace within.
Find your own truest path.
Let go of any limiting beliefs. Let go of any attachments. Forgive whoever needs forgiveness and apologize to clear your regrets. Find Love.
Find your light within. See your light in all people. Love your enemies.
Recognize the Ego, be aware of what makes it grow. Become aware of any negative thought patterns. Be disciplined.
Clear your own shadows. Face your Trauma. Heal your inner child.
Get free from all bodily addictions. Be free of fear. Be free of suffering.
See the beauty of all things. Find joy in every moment.
Surrender yourself. Follow the heart. Be proud and courageous. Accept your life and your story. Embrace your story, without being attached to it.
Find your purpose. End the Seeking.
Be your authentic Self. Express Love through your character.
Become Love.
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This is a possible path. And I just gave you the map. It can be walked. It was walked before. But it is a path into unknown territory. Only the bravest of you can walk this path. It's not for the faintest of heart.
You see, you all either follow the path of the left and go westwards or you follow the path on the right and go eastwards... But no matter how far you go, you'll always end up at the crossroads again. You never make any real progress.
What if there is another path? What if there's another way? What if I say, 'let us go north?!'”
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Some of the crowd are in shock. Some are laughing. Others are mumbling.
“You can't walk north,” says a crow from the projectors. “It's impossible.”
“Everyone knows, that the northern road is a dead-end,” says an awakened Caterpillar. “It's a waste of time going up there. You can't go further, than the volcano.”
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A psychonaut horse laughs. “That will be fun. Can't wait to see their disappointed faces, when they walk all the way back down.”
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The Stranger continues undeterred:
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“Why are you walking the spiritual path?
You felt called to do it, didn't you? You felt something within you. Something made click. You understood, that there is a deeper truth, that you must find. There was this deep longing within you. So you started walking.
What were the first things, that you were seeking?
You were seeking answers.
What were your first questions? You were asking, 'What is my purpose?' You were asking 'Why am I here'?
And you have searched in so many places. But no matter which answer you got, you were never fully satisfied. Because it wasn't your answer. Because it was someone else's answer.
So you stopped seeking. Either you were content with some unfulfilling answers or you just simply gave up. When did you stop finding your own answers?
Dogma or tradition give us easy answers. When we are attached to them, when we build an identity around them, we become unable to find our own answers. But you can't end Seeking with someone elses answers. Only when you have claimed the answer for yourself, can the Seeker transform into something different. Into something new.
Just ending the Seeker, like cutting off a limb, won't do it. The Seeker needs to find their answer to the question 'What is my purpose?' Not one, they read from textbooks. Not an answer, that someone else can give them. When ONE has found their own unique purpose in life, then instead of 'seeking', there is only 'expressing'.”
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“I see that you are advanced,” speaks an enlightened owl. “However you are blinded by idealism. When you stare into the abyss long enough, the abyss will stare back at you.”
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“My friend,” says the Stranger. “I have not only stared into the abyss, I went to hell and back again to find my answer.”
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Everyone falls silent, the Stranger continues:
“It was always here on earth. Heaven. It was always within us. Take a look around you. There is beauty in all things. If you search for it, you can find joy in every moment. Look for love in the world and you shall find love everywhere. Meet Life with gratitude and wonder. Face your experience, like an adventurer faces his challenge. Express unconditional love through your very being. Because this is how we heal Humanities greatest wound: The scar of nihilism.
It has all become so meaningless to us, hasn't it?
Memorizing knowledge at school or college, that you'll never need in real life. This feeling of being stuck in life. Day to day, going to a dead-end job for minimum wage. Living an unfulfilled life. The shattering of broken dreams. The tears of our suffering.
You know, why everything has become so meaningless?
We let our hearts get cold. After falling, we stopped getting back up again. We stopped facing our challenges.
You see, after every defeat, Humanity always got back up again. No matter how tough the challenge may seemed, Humanity never gave up.
We have forgotten, who we are.
All of us are Humanity. You, Me, everyone. We are all humanity. You, the individual human are HUMANITY. You are the Rest of mankind. Because we are all the same in our essence. When you open your heart, then this is your name: 'HUMANITY'
Because you see yourself in every other human. This is the name of the divine spark that sits within all of us. It is the fire, that burns in our eyes. This is Humanity: An archetype of victory and an idea of unity.
Let me ask you a very direct question. If we all came together to do our part, do you think that we could actually clean up the mess we have created? Do you think we have a chance of not only to survive but even to evolve as a species? And perhaps write even greater stories, than ever before?”
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The entire crowd is silent. Most of them avoid eye contact. People start mumbling.
Then the crowd slowly gets louder again and the conversations on each table, continue as if nothing ever happened.
As the Stranger steps down from the chair, a monkey gets up from one of the tables, points his finger and screams:
“Look guys, this dude has ketchup on his outfit.”
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While the crowd laughs at him, the Stranger goes to the bar and orders two beer. While he waits, he rubs off the ketchup stain from his clothes with his fingernails.
People are looking at him and the Seeker. The Seeker can't bear standing next to the Stranger and leaves the tavern. The Stranger pays for two beers. 140 Pesos. He then follows the Seeker outside.
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“Wanna go already?” asks the Stranger while sipping from his beer.
“Those guys hate you now,” sighs the Seeker.
“Who cares?” shrugs the Stranger, while gulping down the beer in a single go.
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A couple of animals exit the bar. All the animals, that had no place to fit in. All the animals that didn't belong. A rabbit, a cat, a goldfish, a squirrel, a bear, a fox, a goat, a pigeon, an eagle, a chicken in an alien costume and a dog.
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“I will also follow my destiny,” speaks the eagle with determination. His heart is also activated.
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https://preview.redd.it/nd50axqudt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=da24a566897e8e118e53ee4609db53cc3efa5cdb
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“Alright,” says a bear with burning eyes. “Let's try going north... Perhaps this is how we'll finally get to Axis Mundi.”
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“Going north... that sounds fun,” says the smiling fox. “Let's see how far, we'll come.”
https://preview.redd.it/le9j6pbwdt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=068cf7b88e3dd326f4225dfa75436adb6d904d01
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“We are all gonna die anyway,” sighs the pessimistic goat.
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“I never tried going north before,” contemplates the curious pigeon.
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“10 bucks, that I am first at the top of the volcano,” bets the black cat, while looking at her claws.
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“Deal,” agrees the dog, while hunting his own tail.
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The rabbit thinks about the taste of carrots. She is hungry.
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The squirrel is simply happy and excited for the new adventure. She can't stop dancing.
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The goldfish has no idea, what he's actually doing. He just rolls around in a plastic bag.
https://preview.redd.it/kfe69coxdt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=21ad2e953dac510efa9a38e287616b6c4ee4bb57
“I... I will also walk my path,” speaks up the brave chicken in an alien costume. For the first time, the chickens eyes start burning.
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Together, the new group of friends are traveling the northern road. Towards the volcano. As the sunset illuminates their backs, the animals start singing a new song. A song of excitement, of wonder and of bravery. A song, that goes something like: “We have found a way.”
https://preview.redd.it/htgexyhzdt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6f8e7e4b2b91d523553ec1c57390fd935710e5ff
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TO BE CONTINUED
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^{for more content visit:} We_Are_Humanity
^{Find previous part Here}
https://www.reddit.com/We_Are_Humanity/comments/1cg7yqg/what_it_means_to_walk_togethe
^{Find next part Here:}
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START JOURNEY HERE: https://www.reddit.com/We_Are_Humanity/comments/17zwf78/the_seeker_and_the_mysterious_stranger_part_1_of_7/
.
Checkpoint 4
https://www.reddit.com/We_Are_Humanity/comments/1cbhoml/turning_shit_into_gold/
.
Special Bonus Chapters:
THE ONE TRUE SEEKER AND THE QUESTION OF FREE WILL
https://www.reddit.com/We_Are_Humanity/comments/1cnaanw/special_bonus_chapter_the_one_true_seeker_and_the/

Walking the Path together (Part 16)

https://preview.redd.it/euotxrvlat0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ebeaad69db8e6faa501d1f1a4f37ff88be1466d5
Part 16: The awakening of the heart
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As the Mysterious Stranger and the Seeker leave the old castle behind, they continue on the snow-covered path. A path appears on the right side, following parallel to their own. The two paths merge into one, which leads towards a volcano. As they progress, another parallel path from the left side merges as well with the current one.
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In the distance, the Seeker spots a building, where the path tilts uphill. A sign points at a crossroad. An intersection, between realms. The crossroads, where all timelines meet up: Where the westward and the eastward paths meets the northern road.
https://preview.redd.it/y91yf0hnat0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6f6aa56566d958d949b60ffc9a25d7acf648ae88
Where the paths meet, stands a tavern. The lights are on. The chimney is smoking. A sign shows its name:
'The Red Ditch Inn'
https://preview.redd.it/juftmsbpat0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ce590d32986f652979736d6e4a0f7a718953d8b0
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“Wanna get something to drink,” asks the Stranger the Seeker.
“Sure, why not,” accepts the Seeker.
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Before he opens the door knob, the Stranger hesitates and speaks to the Seeker:
“This is the bar, where the timelines of our souls meet up. This is the crossing of our life-paths, the intersection of fate. Be prepared, for what happens next.”
The Seeker and the Stranger walk into the building. As they open the door, they are started by the loud conversations. The inn is full. Many tables with different animals of all species.
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The table in the center of the bar, has a label saying: ''
Around that table sit all kinds of different birds and animals. Pigeons, squirrels, Reptiles, cats, dogs, wolves, foxes, crows, mice, sloths. They are mostly talking about crystals and past lives.
https://preview.redd.it/51hygx7rat0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f7e21f854aa849d0e1647c73551cf69886802857
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There was a table, which said: ''. There sat an old bear, who carries many scars, wounded by countless battles, teaching young bear cups, who attentively listen to their elders. Some are making notes.
https://preview.redd.it/jhdust7tat0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f6c6edefe29376b1664a6e5a1496f50cba530e53
Next to it, is a table with a label saying: ''
There sit some parrots all repeating the same mantra in unison:
“BEFORE ENLIGHTENMENT CHOP WOOD CARRY WATER, AFTER ENLIGHTENMENT CHOP WOOD CARRY WATER.”
https://preview.redd.it/k4mn0ouuat0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=5e6f44ee5f2604a334a3db3beda9b470510f2072
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There is another table, called: ''
There sit a caterpillar, a spider, a scorpion and an eagle.
“You have an Ego,” shouts the caterpillar at the spider, pointing his finger.
“No, you have an Ego,” shouts the spider back at the caterpillar.
“You both have an Ego,” accuses the scorpion both the caterpillar and the spider.
“Hey,” shouts the bird. “I am the eagle here!”
https://preview.redd.it/qssf2ykwat0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=419021543f18a7ea9479a3baed8dab11591b4800
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Next to it, is the table of 'nonduality'. The chairs are completely empty. There is no one here.
https://preview.redd.it/wroiy1fyat0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ac3c6674cd8f4e6417659dd75428b2288d49ceab
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On the other side there is another table with many different birds and mammals, some more exotic animals from all around the world. The label says 'Soulnexus'. There is someone constantly screaming at the top of their lungs:
“I AM A PROFFESIONAL PSYCHIC READER WITH 14 YEARS OF EXPERIENCE!”
https://preview.redd.it/h0us9l00bt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=849553e6990e3e929cb4a9a260dff7f5eeec2822
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One table next to it is called ''. The people sitting there do not look like animals, but like strange aliens. Some small and green beings, others big and gray, some with fur, some with scales, some humanoid. They were mostly talking about the past, exchanging some old memories. Among them is a chicken, who wears an alien costume.
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As one of the Grey beings stands up to go to the toilet, the chicken whispers to the others:
“Psst guys, I think Fred may not be an actual Starseed.”
https://preview.redd.it/rm7q76p1bt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=3ecfe01dab9efac7c5e72bfbfe33bb8cc7767af7
The other beings around the table start mumbling.
https://preview.redd.it/yt1k1ye3bt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=227247bb01d8a3e55609027f8ab174d6ae73d22a
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There is one more table called ''. The Stranger walks towards their table.
“Jo, wazzup Shawty,” greets the Stranger an old friend at the psychonaut-table, with a fist bump. “Long time no see.”
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“Whoa, it's YOU,” responds the Tiger at the table, with red eyes, smoking his bong. “Last time I've seen you, I was like in DMT realm.”
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“Is Burt anywhere around?” asks the Stranger.
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“He is sitting there in the corner,” responds Shawty. The tiger points at a traumatized racoon sitting in the dark corner.
“I have seen too much,” mumbles the Burt the Racoon with eyes wide open, like a scratched record.
“I have traveled too far... I have seen, what lies within the emptiness. Never again... I will never do shrooms again...”
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Suddenly the waiter taps the racoons shoulder, ripping him out of his thought loop.
“Sir... Do you wanna order anything?”
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“Do you have McKennaii?”
“Yes,” responds the waiter.
“Then I'll have 7 grams,” orders the racoon.
https://preview.redd.it/0ietwc55bt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b9743c7ce4a41d96bdd79eca2e3a94a25f39aeb8
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The Seeker has a sudden thought and looks at the Stranger.
“What does the ' slash' on the tables, stand for?”
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“I don't know...,” shrugs the Stranger. “ It's probably to reserve the table at this inn.”
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The Stranger looks at all the tables, they are all talking and talking. Some are playing poker, others are playing dart, some drunks fight each other. Others talk about their identity or their favorite dogma. Some are showing off, how enlightened they are.
As they stand at the crossroads, they can either go Westwards, Eastwards and Northwards. Many have taken the western route, many have went eastwards, but they always ended back at the 'Red Ditch Inn' again.
The newbies, were unsure, whether to go west or east. The experienced ones, knew it doesn't make a difference, they would end up at the bar again anyway. Some were stuck in the bar since many decades, they had given up hope to ever find a way out. But few of them ever dared to walk northwards.
https://preview.redd.it/5q5msvr6bt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=a38f7d94b60f2b9e4d6c434c0e5dba42e3eb42e0
The Stranger sighs, as he looks around. His eyes flame up, he inhales deeply and climbs on a chair. With a raised voice he speaks:
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“When did we lose our heart?
We lost our heart collectively.
Did we lose it, when we were still cavemen? When we had to survive the cold winters of the ice age? When we hunted down the last Homo Neanderthalensis? Or later on, when the first tribes waged war against each other? Did we lose our heart, when we enslaved each other? Did we lose our hearts, when we dropped atom bombs, or when we caused our first mass extinctions...The crimes, that Humans do in wars... All of us carry the sins of our forefathers on our shoulders.
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We lost our hearts individually.
For the person it starts pretty early in their childhood. We lose our trust, when we are lied to. Almost everyone tastes the pain of Betrayal at least once in life. We are deeply wounded from childhood on. We learn early on, that humans hurt us and thus we become suspicious of humans. We learn not to trust each other. Because we are afraid of being hurt again. And so we close off our heart to protect it.
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What is the heart?
I am not talking about the physical organ. I talk about this part in your 'soul', if I may call it that. It's like the core of our 'soul', of our 'astral body'. The centre of our 'energy' or chakras. We are afraid to open it, because it's very vulnerable. That's why we protect it. We are afraid to open it, because we don't trust each other.
But unless your heart is open, you can never experience unconditional love. Its flame must be activated.
The heart is your connection to everything. The heart is what connects you to 'source', if that's the word, you'd like to use. The heart is from where our love flows.
We have cut off the connection and became separated from the ALL. We made love conditional. We split hating from loving, dislike from like and created duality. We became attached. We let ourselves be corrupted by the Ego.
Now that we have closed the heart, what have we done to the world?
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We turned the world into a place, that almost no one likes. We created a society, that keeps us in narrow boxes. We made the world a lonely place, for everyone to be in. Even in groups, we often feel lonely. We allowed money to rule over us. We allowed ideologies to split us and dogmas to control us.
We have so many different issues, that we just can't seem to overcome. Climate change. Wars. Corrupt politicians. Poverty. Starvation. Meaninglessness. Nihilism.
Where should we start with all that mess?
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With ourselves. That is the place, where the transformation needs to start. We need to evolve. One person at a time. Only then, can the collective transform as well.
We need to open the mind and the heart. To see and to feel. To be aware and to love. We need to find harmony within ourselves. End the inner conflict and find peace within.
Find your own truest path.
Let go of any limiting beliefs. Let go of any attachments. Forgive whoever needs forgiveness and apologize to clear your regrets. Find Love.
Find your light within. See your light in all people. Love your enemies.
Recognize the Ego, be aware of what makes it grow. Become aware of any negative thought patterns. Be disciplined.
Clear your own shadows. Face your Trauma. Heal your inner child.
Get free from all bodily addictions. Be free of fear. Be free of suffering.
See the beauty of all things. Find joy in every moment.
Surrender yourself. Follow the heart. Be proud and courageous. Accept your life and your story. Embrace your story, without being attached to it.
Find your purpose. End the Seeking.
Be your authentic Self. Express Love through your character.
Become Love.
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This is a possible path. And I just gave you the map. It can be walked. It was walked before. But it is a path into unknown territory. Only the bravest of you can walk this path. It's not for the faintest of heart.
You see, you all either follow the path of the left and go westwards or you follow the path on the right and go eastwards... But no matter how far you go, you'll always end up at the crossroads again. You never make any real progress.
What if there is another path? What if there's another way? What if I say, 'let us go north?!'”
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Some of the crowd are in shock. Some are laughing. Others are mumbling.
“You can't walk north,” says a crow from the projectors. “It's impossible.”
“Everyone knows, that the northern road is a dead-end,” says an awakened Caterpillar. “It's a waste of time going up there. You can't go further, than the volcano.”
https://preview.redd.it/unxwjos8bt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=3a39000508c04db0ea2e8b8c73af3b0484e893f5
A psychonaut horse laughs. “That will be fun. Can't wait to see their disappointed faces, when they walk all the way back down.”
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The Stranger continues undeterred:
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“Why are you walking the spiritual path?
You felt called to do it, didn't you? You felt something within you. Something made click. You understood, that there is a deeper truth, that you must find. There was this deep longing within you. So you started walking.
What were the first things, that you were seeking?
You were seeking answers.
What were your first questions? You were asking, 'What is my purpose?' You were asking 'Why am I here'?
And you have searched in so many places. But no matter which answer you got, you were never fully satisfied. Because it wasn't your answer. Because it was someone else's answer.
So you stopped seeking. Either you were content with some unfulfilling answers or you just simply gave up. When did you stop finding your own answers?
Dogma or tradition give us easy answers. When we are attached to them, when we build an identity around them, we become unable to find our own answers. But you can't end Seeking with someone elses answers. Only when you have claimed the answer for yourself, can the Seeker transform into something different. Into something new.
Just ending the Seeker, like cutting off a limb, won't do it. The Seeker needs to find their answer to the question 'What is my purpose?' Not one, they read from textbooks. Not an answer, that someone else can give them. When ONE has found their own unique purpose in life, then instead of 'seeking', there is only 'expressing'.”
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“I see that you are advanced,” speaks an enlightened owl. “However you are blinded by idealism. When you stare into the abyss long enough, the abyss will stare back at you.”
https://preview.redd.it/wzo56e2bbt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=cf49158aa39d115cfe22cd60a4b5c1502d11e246
“My friend,” says the Stranger. “I have not only stared into the abyss, I went to hell and back again to find my answer.”
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Everyone falls silent, the Stranger continues:
“It was always here on earth. Heaven. It was always within us. Take a look around you. There is beauty in all things. If you search for it, you can find joy in every moment. Look for love in the world and you shall find love everywhere. Meet Life with gratitude and wonder. Face your experience, like an adventurer faces his challenge. Express unconditional love through your very being. Because this is how we heal Humanities greatest wound: The scar of nihilism.
It has all become so meaningless to us, hasn't it?
Memorizing knowledge at school or college, that you'll never need in real life. This feeling of being stuck in life. Day to day, going to a dead-end job for minimum wage. Living an unfulfilled life. The shattering of broken dreams. The tears of our suffering.
You know, why everything has become so meaningless?
We let our hearts get cold. After falling, we stopped getting back up again. We stopped facing our challenges.
You see, after every defeat, Humanity always got back up again. No matter how tough the challenge may seemed, Humanity never gave up.
We have forgotten, who we are.
All of us are Humanity. You, Me, everyone. We are all humanity. You, the individual human are HUMANITY. You are the Rest of mankind. Because we are all the same in our essence. When you open your heart, then this is your name: 'HUMANITY'
Because you see yourself in every other human. This is the name of the divine spark that sits within all of us. It is the fire, that burns in our eyes. This is Humanity: An archetype of victory and an idea of unity.
Let me ask you a very direct question. If we all came together to do our part, do you think that we could actually clean up the mess we have created? Do you think we have a chance of not only to survive but even to evolve as a species? And perhaps write even greater stories, than ever before?”
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The entire crowd is silent. Most of them avoid eye contact. People start mumbling.
Then the crowd slowly gets louder again and the conversations on each table, continue as if nothing ever happened.
As the Stranger steps down from the chair, a monkey gets up from one of the tables, points his finger and screams:
“Look guys, this dude has ketchup on his outfit.”
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While the crowd laughs at him, the Stranger goes to the bar and orders two beer. While he waits, he rubs off the ketchup stain from his clothes with his fingernails.
People are looking at him and the Seeker. The Seeker can't bear standing next to the Stranger and leaves the tavern. The Stranger pays for two beers. 140 Pesos. He then follows the Seeker outside.
https://preview.redd.it/e6z1vs8dbt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=87abe2474b38b4db1520beec2fc576fa2f8aead4
“Wanna go already?” asks the Stranger while sipping from his beer.
“Those guys hate you now,” sighs the Seeker.
“Who cares?” shrugs the Stranger, while gulping down the beer in a single go.
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A couple of animals exit the bar. All the animals, that had no place to fit in. All the animals that didn't belong. A rabbit, a cat, a goldfish, a squirrel, a bear, a fox, a goat, a pigeon, an eagle, a chicken in an alien costume and a dog.
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“I will also follow my destiny,” speaks the eagle with determination. His heart is also activated.
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https://preview.redd.it/e7mfutlebt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=54b88c6a4710f71cabdd77897773f51be8b247ec
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“Alright,” says a bear with burning eyes. “Let's try going north... Perhaps this is how we'll finally get to Axis Mundi.”
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“Going north... that sounds fun,” says the smiling fox. “Let's see how far, we'll come.”
https://preview.redd.it/4ewd3xegbt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=8b37bff14424cd6f0f95cd988c32595de8f3f454
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“We are all gonna die anyway,” sighs the pessimistic goat.
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“I never tried going north before,” contemplates the curious pigeon.
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“10 bucks, that I am first at the top of the volcano,” bets the black cat, while looking at her claws.
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“Deal,” agrees the dog, while hunting his own tail.
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The rabbit thinks about the taste of carrots. She is hungry.
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The squirrel is simply happy and excited for the new adventure. She can't stop dancing.
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The goldfish has no idea, what he's actually doing. He just rolls around in a plastic bag.
https://preview.redd.it/tl493tdibt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=c8c3a131d0e3dab7174ef2bc7b7ea0b5d26ba1aa
“I... I will also walk my path,” speaks up the brave chicken in an alien costume. For the first time, the chickens eyes start burning.
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Together, the new group of friends are traveling the northern road. Towards the volcano. As the sunset illuminates their backs, the animals start singing a new song. A song of excitement, of wonder and of bravery. A song, that goes something like: “We have found a way.”
https://preview.redd.it/kxv5lc2kbt0d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=7066bbeff6bd269542a87c52a66b953209fbd023
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TO BE CONTINUED
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^{for more content visit:} We_Are_Humanity
^{Find previous part Here}
https://www.reddit.com/We_Are_Humanity/comments/1cg7yqg/what_it_means_to_walk_togethe
^{Find next part Here:}
.
.
START JOURNEY HERE: https://www.reddit.com/We_Are_Humanity/comments/17zwf78/the_seeker_and_the_mysterious_stranger_part_1_of_7/
.
Checkpoint 4
https://www.reddit.com/We_Are_Humanity/comments/1cbhoml/turning_shit_into_gold/
.
Special Bonus Chapters:
THE ONE TRUE SEEKER AND THE QUESTION OF FREE WILL
https://www.reddit.com/We_Are_Humanity/comments/1cnaanw/special_bonus_chapter_the_one_true_seeker_and_the/

hey all:)
i’ve started sharing a horse who i can’t ride because she has kissing spine and i absolutely love her to bits,is there anything i should know about horses with kissing spine? i would NEVER want to hurt her or make ks any worse for her i can already imagine it’s so painful i try to be careful when grooming her and she seems fine just wanted to know if there’s anything i should know/be warned about :)

FIRST CHAPTER
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
This product is a fanfic of the Sexy Space Babes/Between Worlds product of u/Bluefishcake and one I highly suggest you read. It was created with permission, but give the OG works some love.
Imgr gallery of Comissioned and Fan Artworks
I'm Back Bitches! Again!
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Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero knelt before a semi-sparking control panel and sighed. She, and a large band of her fellow Engineers with Marine support, had boarded the pirate frigate with the singular goal of ensuring that the pirates didn’t scuttle their floating hulk and doom the slaves aboard to a, if they were lucky, a swift death in space.
The problem, of course, came with the pirate’s maintenance schedules and decisions to forgo certain… safety measures when it came to repair.
Like the panel before her. Usually a perfectly functional control system for the reverse-magnetic bulkhead doors that ensured void seals in power outages, some pirate at some point in their dumb, dumb life decided to fix the panel blowing a fuse… by ripping the fuse out and replacing it with a high density power cable. Which meant the entire thing was one massive shock hazard and actively sparking as the reactors deep in the ship flickered and surged due to damage.
Che’keero swore as an arc of electricity flashed towards her face after a tool that was not supposed to be magnetized, cheap dick WaDepth requisitions, caught a magnetic field, fusing the entire system shut and turning the formerly barely functional control system into nothing but pretty, decorative wiring and cheap solder. She punched the now utterly unfunctional control box and toggled on her radio. “Three-Two to Three-Lead, this door’s fried. You’ll need to bring in the cutters if we want to get to the rest of the ship. Might as well also bring in an inflatable airlock, I’m not liking how some of the metal strain sensors are flashing at me.”
A semi-synthetic voice replied back to Che’keero, “Three-Lead copies. I’ll be over there shortly with the stuff. Double check those sensors, I’m not getting the same readings, so let’s make sure something isn’t blocking errors from reaching me.”
“Copy that Three-Lead, Three-Two ou-” Something tapped against the back of her helmet and Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero mentally swore.
“Now, now, lassie, how about you sit right there and don’t move.” A nasally, unfamiliar voice called out to her while tapping what a camera she set up to watch her back revealed to be a laser pistol to Che’keero’s helmet. “I think that you’re going to be our new best friend and way off this dead end ship.”
Che’keero paused, letting the situation settle in her mind, “Wait, what? Are… are you taking me hostage?”
“Yes!” The pirate replied.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you taking me hostage? This won’t work, none of the shuttles are jump capable and if you try anything, you’ll just end up jumped by marines. They specifically train to deal with pirates taking their engineers hostage. If you want to survive, you should just surrender and take the penal colony when it’s offered.” Che’keero mentioned, shrugging and continuing her inspection of the door.
The pirate seemed baffled at the sheer nonchalance of this response, the pistol slowly falling to merely point at her upper back instead of her head, “You… you really aren’t taking this seriously. I’m a pirate! I’ve killed people! I’ve killed boys, and you’re just sitting there like this doesn’t mean anything!”
“I mean… I wouldn’t say that.” Che’keero replied.
“THEN WHAT DO YOU MEAN!” The pirate screamed, the pistol moving away from Che’keero’s body by a fraction of an inch during an angry gesture.
It was at that point, a ceramic alloyed, carbon steel blade punched clean through the back of the pirate’s suit, slicing through their central nervous system and striking with enough force to shatter the faceplate of said pirate’s helmet on the way out. Muscles twitching, the laser pistol fired off randomly, missing Che’keero and slagging a chunk of bulkhead.
“I’m just buying time,” Che’keero replied cheekily.
“You really need to remember to check your cameras,” The semi-synthetic voice of Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns commented as the ex-pirate fell to the ground and blue blood dripped from the long blade sprouting from her right arm and a toolbox hanging from her left hand. “This isn’t the first time you have been flanked, and this one wasn’t during training.”
“Look, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Che’keero replied a bit testily.
“I’m sorry…” Ventures Forth prodded.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.”
“Much better. Right, now what do we see in this- yeah you were right on it being fried.” Ventures Forth gently shoved the Junior Systems Engineer aside and took her place at the control panel. “Do a sweep of the strain systems. I don’t want this section of the ship breaking apart. Feel free to call up our hull patches. We’ve got plenty to share and this might have to be a lifeboat.”
“Aye, ma’am aye,” Che’keero replied with a crisp salute before rushing off to her duty.
Deeper inside the ship, Ventures Forth could hear laser fire, clashing of metal on metal, and cries for help.
The pirate ship was doomed, it was shattered and broken, but it was not destroyed. Not yet. \
And if she had her way, Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns would keep it that way.
//////////
Roshal stood still as her steward continued to clean the dark blue and rapidly congealing blood off her armored form. “Comms,” She called out, “Do we have any contact with the shuttle we sent to the station?”
“Negative, ma’am.” The comm officer replied. She wasn’t the same one that was present when Roshal left to fend off the boarders. At the unspoken question, the woman continued “Communication’s Mate Second Class Lev’tal, ma’am. My superior got a concussion when the pirate ship rocked our ship during boarding. Strap snapped, prior damage. I took over.”
Roshal nodded approvingly, “Good initiative. Send a message to the station, see if we can’t rai-”
“Ma’am! Contact!” One of her sensor techs called out, “Belay that, two contacts. First contact, nav point 782 spinward, possible bogey, cruiser weight. Unknown movements. Second contact, nav point 102 coreward, aerospace assets inbound. Small flight. Hard to determine numbers due to damage. No less than two, no more than five.”
“Focus on getting a hard contact on that possible cruiser. Weapons, what is the status of our anti-aerospace.” Roshal demanded, holding her sword arm out for the steward to scrub at a particularly clotted chunk of blood splattered over her wrist.
The weapons officer shook her head, “If we’re lucky, then we’ve got 20% coverage on half our sides. If we’re very lucky, I might be able to bump that number up to 35%. Not going to quote doctrine, but that’s not nearly enough to fend off a flight of Aerospace assets on a strike run, and that’s assuming they don’t hit us on an unprotected flank.”
Roshal nodded once more, “Sound general quarters and get weapons and tactical back online. Tell the damage control parties to not be distracted and focus on critical systems first. Engine room, report. Can you give me maneuvering thrust?”
The nearby ship phone chimed in with a staticy hiss, “Negative, ma’am. The shot we made with the spinal mount tripped breakers up and down the reactor room. This isn’t an engine problem, we need to make sure our reactor doesn’t blow up when we siphon power. Before you ask, emergency power is still flowing and none of their circuits tripped, but that means we’re down to life support, basic systems, and dockyard thrusters. It will take at least 20 to get the reactor in a safe state. If you want 10, send the chaplain down so we have someone praying for good luck. The fact most of our structural engineers are doing an EVA boarding to ensure the pirate ship next to us doesn’t go critical and render the entire exercise moot isn’t helping matters at all.” The engine room replied Roshal bit down a bit of annoyance at the snark, but engineers were always a finicky sort with authority. They were the first to remind uptight officers that while the Captain’s word may be iron law, it was their work that truly moved the ship.
“Confirmed, engine room.” Roshal instead replied. “Chaplains will be arriving shortly. Do what you can and inform me when you’re three minutes out from full power.”
The engine room didn’t even bother replying, just sending over the affirmative light as they got to work. Roshal approved of that. Sometimes, you just had to insult someone in order to get it working right.
“Captain, we have confirmation on contact. He’s an Alliance Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser on intercept course. Energy readings are spiking… they’re charging their guns, ma’am!”
“Issue a hostile challenge and give me a firing solution with any gun still functional.”
“No response, ma’am. Hostile Karcharidon is increasing speed. Hard contact in 15 minutes.”
Roshal snarled, emotion breaking through her mask. “Of course, the pirates had one more vessel. Helm, fire our maneuvering thrusters, use the pirate hulk as cover. Weapons, get whoever’s left of our Interceptor flight to engage the enemy. Comms, get me in contact with the merchant fleet, tell them to evacuate. We’ll provide cover.”
“Aye ma’am.” The Communications Mate Second Class said with a shiver in her voice. “Sending-”
“Update on Aerospace assets!” Her sensor tech called out.
“Deliver!” Roshal demanded, cutting off the comms officer with a slice of her hand.
“Weapons fire. Definitely less than four contacts. Seems to be two grou- negative, only two contacts remaining- weaponsfire- one contac- IFF received, oh goddesses, IT’S RUNOFF THREE! FRIENDLY AEROSPACE INBOUND!”
//////////
Milk gripped her crash harness hard as Cookie slammed the Interceptor’s fusion torch clean past its safe thrust marker and into the red as g forces crushed her chest. “Last target down.” She reported after Cookie’s final laser burst hit something critical inside the final Aerospace fighter’s frame. “That’s 20 for 20. All enemy bogeys down. All standard munitions are in the black. Static drive is 48%, dump core ejected. All we’ve got left is our ASM and front laser.”
Cookie flashed back an affirmative signal.
“We going for that cruiser?”
Another affirmative.
“Well, I’m braced and ready on the release. Ready.”
“Ready.” Cookie spoke, his voice horse.
It’s funny what people think when their lives are on the line. Because charging towards a fresh enemy Heavy Cruiser, nothing but a single anti-shipping missile worth a damn, no allied support but the faint glimmer in IFF screens of their fellow flight doing the same… all Aoibhinn McDermott could think of was a poem she had read at least a decade ago or more at the Naval Academy.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the Valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
//////////
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns could do nothing but furiously swear as the basic sensor system her engineering team had restored on the thoroughly ventilated secondary command bridge of the pirate hulk revealed an enemy Heavy Cruiser bearing down upon their homeship.
“Weapons are trashed. We cored their reactor, anyway.” One of the tangential engineers reported, “Other teams are calling in. Things are worse where they are. We’ve found the slaves, though, luckily it was one of the few airtight bays. Also, have some more captives, but that really doesn’t matter right now.”
“No shit.” Ventures Forth replied, “Can we do anything?”
The engineer looked back to her, visor depolarizing so the Gearschilde can look into the black and yellow eyes of her Shil coworker.
“Pray.” The woman replied simply.
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns did just that.
//////////
Low chanting filled the engine bay as a small group of priests stood around the engine praying to whichever god that would listen to allow them one more shot. One more fight.
Around them, black handed engineers scurried, ripping out blown fuses and replacing them with soldered in high strength wire. A final measure of desperation. Sparks flew as engineers swore and chaplains prayed, power still remaining in circuits needing to be bled out before bypasses could be installed, turning every bit of solder and every ripped out fuse into a deadly gamble.
Already, someone was lying on the ground, no longer twitching.
They didn’t have time to check on their fallen comrade, the work was too important.
A clock ticked down. Four minutes elapsed.
//////////
Lieutenant Commander Cenywyn swore as she watched Runoff 2 die.
Their single Interceptor had mistimed a maneuver and had been caught dead in the middle of an Anti-Aerospace array, shredded in an instant. The only consolation she could take was that, seeing as the first shot went clean through the cockpit, they didn’t even notice they died.
“Runoff 4, stay in formation.” She ordered over the radio, “We’ll lead you in for the run.”
“Yes ma’am.” The hesitant voice of Junior Flight Lieutenant Griogill replied. She swallowed, “We’re- we’re ready when you are.”
“No fear, Lieutenant,” Cenywyn called back to the child she was leading to her death. “We’re pilots in the Imperial Patrol. We do our duty. No fear.”
A clock ticked down. Six minutes elapsed.
//////////
“Talk to me!” The last remaining senior engineer in the reactor bay called out to anyone who was able to reply.
Someone, she didn’t even bother looking to see who, called back “We’ve bypassed 60% of the fuses. Should be able to give ourselves a burst of combat power. No more than 10 minutes of it before the entire system overheats and we either die, or the reactor shuts off.”
“Any chance we can get more than 10 minutes?”
“Not before that Heavy Cruiser delivers us straight to the stars.”
“Fuck it, good enough.” She slammed her fist on the ship phone’s dialing button resting near the console the engineer had just ripped the last safety override out of. “Captain. We’ve got your power. You give us the word, and we’ll give you ten minutes.”
//////////
Roshal breathed in, breathed out, and nodded. 10 minutes of combat power before the entire ship shut down into uselessness. She’d done more with less. She couldn’t remember when, but she had. Luckily, this was a Patrol Carrier instead of a standard ship, so it was more than capable of combat maneuvers with nothing but RCS thrusters. That should give her some time.
Movement, movement was going to be the key.
“Comms, tell the engineering crews on the hulk that they are ordered to figure out anything that could draw the attention of the Heavy Cruiser,” She began, “Systems, break our mooring lines. We’re going to have to split from the hulk. Helm, prepare for maneuvers. RCS only. We are going to have to do this carefully. Engineroom, prepare for power activation, but hold until my command.”
This needs to be perfect, Roshal thought, A single mistimed action ruins it all.
A clock ticked down. Ten minutes elapsed. The Karcharidon had entered maximum weapon’s range.
//////////
He of Slender Tail shivered where he stood. The secondary command bridge was silent as Roshal began giving orders to fight. This was… this was insane.
They were in a ruined ship with nothing but a merchant fleet beginning to flee and a three thirds dead pirate hulk on their side against a fresh Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser.
They couldn’t win.
This was suicide.
They would die here.
\ So why didn’t He of Slender Tail feel afraid?
He stood at his post, a secondary bridge console where he would relay orders to other departments, freeing up the other Watchkeeper to collate those orders, there was nothing he could do to help win this impossible battle, and yet…
And yet he felt heat blossoming inside his chest with every single order delivered.
“Mooring teamsss, you are to cut your linesss immediately.” He relayed to a crew of Shil scurrying around the ruined bulkheads, “Damage control, prepare for electrical firesss and arcsss.” He commanded, switching between teams instantly.
He didn’t feel fear. He could see his Watchkeeper shiver every time the sensors reported the enemy contact was still closing, but he didn’t feel the same.
What he felt… was indignation.
How dare this pirate scum threaten his vessel, his crew. How dare they ambush this valiant ship after they had fought so hard to win. How dare they.
He let his fangs fold out as he spat the next order, “Anti-Aerossspace teamsss, prepare your batteriesss for grouped fire. Gunnery calculationsss are on their way.”
How dare they stand up to him.
A clock ticked down. 12 minutes elapsed. Weapons fire.
//////////
Roshal swayed slightly as she could feel the ship beneath her feet move. Movement is life in naval warfare, movement is death. “Right RCS fire, bring us clear of the hulk. Bow thrusters, up twenty.”
“Aye, ma’am, aye, right standard and bow up twenty.” The Helmswoman replied.
“Confirmed. Next maneuver, give us rear thrust-”
“Torpedo!” The sensor operator called out in a shrill voice, “Two marks on intercept course! Range, twelve K and closing fast!”
“Decorum!” Roshal snapped at the panicking sensor technician. “Comms, order Runoff flight to divert and intercept those torpedoes. Rear RCS to full, give us momentum.”
Roshal turned away from the bridge as affirmations were shouted, and the ship began to move, “Engineering, prepare to activate combat power on my mark and prepare for hard maneuvers. Mark in five.”
//////////
Griogill swallowed bile and tried not to feel too thankful that the enemy vessel had fired torpedoes at their home ship. Being diverted from an attack run had a much higher chance of survival than striking through an AA bubble.
“Runoff 4 engaging far torpedo. Moving in for intercept. Bre’kas, give me lock.”
Griogill’s backseater muttered something, and a target lock appeared on the far torpedo as Runoff 1, their previous Drill Sergeants, dashed by in a hard burn and blazed away at their own target.
“Right. We can do this. We can do this. No fear.” The rookie muttered as the sight of her friends in Runoff 3 being turned to vapor echoed in her mind. “I can do this.”
The target locked. She fired. The torpedo detonated.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in four.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser loomed closer as the comparatively tiny Patrol Carrier spat its defiance in the form of two Interceptors dancing between the stars.
As a pair of torpedoes detonated, four more were launched, the anti-shipping weapons built for this specific purpose. Destroying disabled vessels.
And so the last two remaining Interceptors on CAP dove into the fray, risking themselves against an ever approaching AA bubble in order to save their ship.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in three.”
//////////
All Cookie could do was stare and push his meager aerospace fighter further on its nuclear thrusters as shimmering dots of torpedoes lanced out from the Heavy Cruiser attacking his new home.
He pushed his hand forward and felt the throttle once more push back against him, the lever pushed all the way past safe thrust and into the further setting on his console.
The Interceptor was fast. It didn’t feel fast enough.
And so he spoke the words he spoke once before, back when he’d had to listen to his backseater’s screams of pain and the rush of wind after shrapnel pierced his fuselage, and the hospital was so, so far away.
Father, I pray that you will not hide your face from me. Whenever I pray, Lord please hear me and answer me speedily in Jesus' name. God, I pray that you will grant me speed through your help.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in two.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser shifted, engine flaring and it began to close the range. A single disabled ship on emergency RCS thrusters and a pair of Aerospace fighters was nothing it would have to deal with.
It fired a third spread of torpedoes.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
They took the bait. Roshal thought with a vicious grin.
“Mark in one.” She paused, “Execute.”
In an instant, power flowed through the ship, emergency lights flickered off as the burning red boarding lights returned their fiery glow. The entire ship shook as the main thruster came back online, and capacitors began to charge for maneuvers.
“Hard burn, full thrusters, right, on my mark.” Roshal watched as the Heavy Cruiser began to react to her movements, the enemy ship was alive, you needed to roll to broadsides to begin bombardment, come on come on…
Roshal watched as a torpedo flickered out of existence, Runoff 4 gaining another kill.
Come on, dammit, you don’t get put in charge of a Heavy Cruiser without- THERE!
The Heavy Cruiser flinched, turning her bow away from the no longer stricken vessel, preparing for broadside.
The Captain’s grin showed more teeth than smile. “Execute! Full right thrust!”
“Full right thrust! Aye ma’am aye!” Her helmswoman called out as maneuvering thrusters dead cold roared to life and physically threw the vessel to the side, causing everyone not strapped in on the bridge to rock as a barrage of fire flew past their former location, manual targeting systems in play since the automatic systems would still be getting warmed up.
“Full thrust forward, prepare to divert all power to secondary weapons. Weapons, give me a firing solution.” Roshal commanded, hand raised and pointed at the enemy’s display as if she were commanding from a tall ship.
A chant of “Aye ma’am aye” flowed out across the bridge as the weaponsmistress was silent before calling out. “Port side is up to 45% secondary fires and 32% point defense. That’ll be our best bet.”
Roshal nodded. “Make it so. Target their main weapons. Helm, get us that facing.”
“Ma’am. We’re getting a call from Runoff 3. They are entering the AO and are asking for a target.”
Roshal smiled, “Weapons, shift target. Aim for the anti-aerospace systems. Let’s give Runoff 3 the opening they need.”
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Cookie, we’ve got a targeting path.” Milk called forward. “Putting it up on your HUD.”
“One second… I’ve got it. Moving to comply. Did the Captain give us a plan?” her front seater replied, causing her stomach to do funny things as the Aerospace Fighter maneuvered while under high thrust.
“Something like that. She asked for a munitions report and specifically about our anti-shipping weapon.”
Cookie paused.
“Ah.” He finally said.
“Yeah.” She replied.
“Well, let’s hope they’re able to open us up to a window of opportunity. Or this will be a short charge.”
“Not our place to question why.”
“Just our place to do and die.”
Time to target… three minutes.
Into the valley of Death, rode the six hundred.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
Two vessels, three Aerospace fighters, one chance.
Six minutes of power remained. All actors took their places on the stage.
One hundred kilometers, close enough to check the weld quality of hull seams, the two ships danced across from each other. Maneuvering.
Five minutes of power remained.
The Karcharidon Heavy Cruiser rolled itself trying to keep the vulnerable top deck away from the Patrol Carrier’s presumably still working main gun as Roshal’s vessel jumped to the side. Thrusters roared.
Four minutes of power remained.
Runoff 1 and 4 shot towards their formerly separated comrade, forming up behind them in a wedge. The trio climbed towards the sun as their captain continued to chase and harass the Karcharidon.
Three minutes of power remained.
Roshal spoke. The lances of her vessel fired. Laser blasts carved across the hull of the enemy ship as it rolled.
The rolling ceased. A helmswoman swore as a full broadside caught the Patrol Carrier in the flank. The port hangar pod was ruined, armor shattered and all inside exposed to hard vacuum. Those who could scream died the fastest. The Interceptors had their opening.
Two minutes of power remained.
Silent wings swept through vacuum as three Interceptors began their dive, their formerly speedy arrowhead shape giving way to an inverted t as their wings swept out for stability, the ASF dove and dove and dove.
Five Kilometers away.
The range was too wide. They had one shot. It had to be perfect.
One minute of power remained.
The Into Harm’s Way spat its defiance into the world, limited power drained to give her pilots a seconds more of time.
30 seconds of power remained.
Three Kilometers.
Hard Lock! Milk shouted from the back seat of Runoff 3. Cookie was silent. The range was still too wide.
15 seconds of power remained.
Two Kilometers.
The Karcharidon seemingly began to roll before the Patrol Carrier once more fired, its last remaining weapons spouting their defiance against the world. Deep in engineering, systems began to blow, wires that replaced fuses sparked power and delicate circuit boards shorted out into useless scrap.
The lights went out.
No power remained.
Roshal, in her head, began to count down as lances of light began to sweep across her ship. Damage control did what they could, but the beams began to cut like an overly enthusiastic shipbreaker.
Five.
One Kilometer.
Four.
Cookie’s thumb depressed the firing stud as the Interceptor screamed at him.
Three.
The ASF launched its deadly payload.
Two.
Three Interceptors pulled back hard on their sticks to avoid colliding with the deck.
One.
The thruster of the anti-shipping missile roared as it rocketed the point blank aerospace distance to target.
Impact.
The armor piercing tip of the missile punched into the upper deck plating of the Heavy Cruiser, classified alloys allowing it to pierce into the armored plating just enough to allow the shaped charge to open up a hole as momentum kept the weapon moving.
Within the frame of a single second, the warhead of the missile had entered the ship and, before the alarms even had time to sound, detonated.
A new sun appeared in the void for a split second as a plasma-fusion warhead detonated inside the Karcharidon heavy cruiser’s hull.
//////////
Roshal allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief inside her head as the emergency power lights flickered overhead and the gravity ever so slightly lightened. What was left of their sensor arrays showed the enemy vessel powering down. “Engineering. Good work, your 10 minutes were just what she needed.” She called out, picking up the ship phone.
There was no answer from engineering.
She signed externally before pointing at one of the marines guarding the bridge, “Find a crewmate in a void suit. I have need of runners.” The marine clasped a fist to her chest before leaving to execute her captain’s commands. “Comms, do we have any contact with the engineering teams on the pirate hulk?”
The Comms officer held up a hand, Roshal waited, “No, ma’am. We aren’t getting- wait. We’ve got visual on flashing lights from the hull. Apparently, something shorted, so they’re having to rebuild broadcast arrays. They can receive just fine, though.”
“Good, once we can maneuver, bring us broadside of them. What’s the status of the merchant fleet?”
Navigation spoke up now, “Still heading for the Jump Point. Should we send the recall order?”
“Not yet, we are still unsure if the area is safe. If we have any sensors remaining, begin sca-”
The mentioned sensor technician interrupted Captain Roshal, “Ma’am, new contact, signature unknown. Just jumped in from outside the starlane!”
“Give me details. Course, range, and speed?” She demanded.
“Signal confused, can’t get a lock!” Navigation called out, “Can’t tell if confusion’s from them or us.”
Not another one… Roshal sighed, “All forces prepa-”
“Ma’am, we’re being hailed.” Communications called out.
“On squawk.”
“This is Captain Al’yosha Cal’rada of Her Imperial Majesty’s Ship Spear of the Knyaginya, responding to Merchant vessel distress calls. Imperial Patrol Carrier, are you in need of assistance at this time?”
Roshal recognized the voice. A junior officer from her days in the Navy and a fellow Sevastutavan. The memory of the fresh faced girl when she’d joined her as an Ensign straight of the Naval Academy flashed before her eyes. “Captain Cal’rada. Your timing is impeccable as always.”
“Admiral?” Roshal could hear the shock in her old protege’s voice.
“That’s Captain, now, Al’yosha. I require your aid in ensuring the disabled vessel still glowing from an ASM strike remains disabled along with Search and Rescue teams for our sister Carrier.
“Whatever you want, you’ll have it, Admiral_… Helm! All ahead flank and plot course to intercept. Launch gunships and prepare to deploy Bluejackets. We’ll test our _Orcas’ teeth today!”
The line cut out a moment later than it should have, and Roshal nodded in approval.
“Captain, I still don’t have a read on new contact. What is it?” Sensors asked.
“A Drep’na inspired vision, come to life.” Roshal watched, feeling an odd sort of parental pride as Al’yosha’s experimental warship began closing the distance towards the Karcharidon at breakneck speeds. “A swift sailing vessel and ten carriage guns…” Roshal murmured the line from an old Vaasconian poem from the ancient Age of Sail. She had heard Cal’rada had succeeded in petitioning the Navy to build her dream-ship, burning every favor and passing out favors to any and everyone to see the program through. Now, there she was, standing on the bridge bearing down on a ship twice her size, but if the rumors were true, only half her guns.
“Ma’am, contact is still not resolving, but IFF confirms Imperial Navy designation. An Akula Class Attack Transport. I’ve… I’ve never even heard of this class.”
“Perhaps we shall hear of them more in the future. Fortune favors the active.”
“Contact is disgorging multiple signals, moving at speeds consistent with aerospace assets.”
“That is our signal we may disengage. Comms, inform the merchant fleet that the area is secure and to begin refueling procedures. Helm, get us alongside the pirate hulk, we have people to recover. Marine, get me a runner to the MP’s, we shall need the port hangar prepared for an old tradition the Navy has regarding pirate prisoners…” Roshal commanded. The fight was over, it was time to begin the cleanup.
//////////
So… that took a while. Sorry about that.
Turns out when a combination of writer’s block, decision paralysis and LIFE hits you over the head, it becomes a touch difficult to get your shit together long enough to write something down.
On the plus side, we are out of the “unplanned bits” and right back into the parts I have brainstormed, so I won’t be staring at a screen trying to think how to make things connect as much anymore. On the other hand, that means we are now entering the epilogue of book 1 of Top Lasgun.
Don’t worry, the story isn’t ending, I’ve got “three” books plotted out in my head, so we’ll see how that shakes out, but for the most part, this is where I start wrapping up plot threads, laying down threads for what comes next, and all that other good stuff.
So yeah, next chapter is going to involve everyone wrapping up what happened here, some fun little Military Justice, and potentially a bunch of plot. Also, I’m planning on starting a “rewrite”/edited version of this to go up on AO3, so keep an eye out for that. Early installment weirdness is a bitch and I’m not proud of what the older stuff looked like.
Well, I hope you have a wonderful morning, afternoon or evening whenever you read this and I will see you next chapter.
[NEXT CHAPTER]

As far back as I can remember, I had always been passionate about the great outdoors. My love for the wilderness began when I joined the scouts, exploring the diverse landscapes of Southern California, Nevada, Arizona, and Utah. I was never a huge fan of the dry, barren landscapes, but camping provided a much-needed escape from the monotony of Orange County suburbia.
The first time I visited the Pacific Northwest, I was enchanted. The scenery was breathtaking—majestic mountains, lush fields, and meandering rivers. It was clear that anyone who praised the desert's beauty had never laid eyes on the Cascades. Seeing grass and wildflowers growing without irrigation was practically a revelation.
When I was old enough, I moved to Washington state, immersing myself in nature every weekend. My adventures took me hiking through dense forests, camping by serene lakes, and occasionally taking mushrooms under peaceful waterfalls.
I joined several online forums dedicated to outdoor enthusiasts. One community that particularly fascinated me was the Northwest Tomb Raiders. This group of history buffs and thrill-seekers was dedicated to uncovering artifacts, whether Native American relics or treasures hidden in modern ruins. Many members were collectors, fencing their finds to museums and archaeologists, which made it a rather profitable side gig, should you be lucky enough.
In the fall of 2009, an intriguing post appeared on the forum. A user named Lokk claimed to have discovered a cache of artifacts with Scandinavian origins. He couldn't carry everything back due to the treacherous terrain and his age, so he shared the coordinates, hoping someone else could retrieve the items. I scrolled down to see a few posts of people planning to loot it in the Spring, when the paths have reopened. One user, Patagooner, planned on going as early as possible.
Excited by the prospect, I gathered my two friends, Carl and Noah, for the expedition. They weren't as enthusiastic about camping as I was, but after I told them how much a single arrowhead goes for on the black market, they were on board. It was the start of winter now, which had its advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, the rangers would have a harder time spotting us. On the downside, the harsh conditions posed a serious challenge for two inexperienced hikers.
I must’ve blown about four grand at REI on gear for them, justifying it with the knowledge of how much more I would make with two extra packs. That is of course assuming there really were as many artifacts as Lokk had said, and Patagooner hadn’t beaten me there.
The journey began like any other. We met in the pre-dawn darkness and went over our supplies, ensuring we had everything we needed. By mid-morning, we were on our way, my pickup truck winding up the mountain paths. The roads of Olympic National Park were the epitome of the raw, untamed beauty of the Pacific Northwest.
They snake through ancient forests, where towering Douglas firs and Western hemlocks create a verdant canopy overhead. Mist clings to the trees, giving the landscape an ethereal quality. Occasionally, the forest would open up to reveal breathtaking vistas of snow-capped peaks and deep, shadowy valleys.
As we climbed higher, the landscape grew increasingly desolate. The dense forest thinned out, replaced by rugged terrain and jagged rock formations. The air grew colder, and the first flurries of snow began to fall, dusting the ground in a thin, white layer. The road became narrower and more treacherous, winding precariously along the edge of steep cliffs.
Finally, a road closure blockade signaled the end of our journey in the truck. We unloaded three dirt bikes—one mine, two rentals—and continued up the trail. The bikes roared to life, carrying us several more miles into the wilderness. The trail twisted and turned, cutting through dense underbrush and over fallen logs. The snow began to fall more heavily, blanketing the forest floor and muffling the sound of our engines. The world around us grew quieter, more isolated.
Eventually, the snow became too deep to traverse by bike. We dismounted and prepared to continue on foot. The silence of the forest was profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of branches in the wind. I checked my modern GPS, its screen displaying the coordinates and a relief map of our destination.
The cold air bit into our cheeks as we trudged through the snow-laden forest. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the crunch of our footsteps and the occasional call of distant wildlife. The GPS indicated we were close to our destination, but the dense underbrush and uneven terrain made progress slow.
Suddenly, Carl's excited whisper cut through the stillness. "Hey, look at that!"
He pointed to a small, furry creature ambling through the trees. It took a moment to realize what it was—a bear cub, innocently exploring its surroundings.
My heart sank. "Carl, get back," I hissed, my voice low but urgent. "Where there's a cub, there's a..."
Before I could finish, a massive shape exploded from the trees. The mother bear, easily three times the size of the cub, charged at Carl with a ferocity. She was a blur of dark fur and powerful muscles, her roar echoing through the forest.
"Run!" I yelled, but it was too late. The bear was upon Carl, swiping at him with her massive paws. He screamed as he fell to the ground, the bear towering over him. Desperation and adrenaline surged through me. I grabbed the nearest heavy branch and swung it at the bear, hoping to distract her.
Noah joined in, shouting and waving his arms. We had to be careful; one wrong move and she would turn on us. The bear snarled, turning her attention away from Carl for just a moment. It was enough for him to scramble backwards, clutching his bleeding arm.
"We have to get him out of here," I shouted to Noah, who nodded, fear etched on his face. The bear, still enraged, seemed torn between attacking us and protecting her cub.
Using the brief respite, we hauled Carl to his feet. His face was white, and he was clearly in shock. Blood soaked his sleeve, dripping onto the snow. "There's a ranger station about two miles from here," I said, my voice shaking. "We need to get him there. Now."
We half-carried, half-dragged Carl through the forest, every shadow and sound heightening our paranoia.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the small, wooden structure of the ranger station came into view. We had been avoiding the rangers to keep our expedition secret, but now it was our only hope.
Pounding on the door, I prayed for a quick response. The door creaked open, and a weathered face appeared. "What happened?" the ranger demanded, taking in the sight of Carl's bloodied form.
"Bear attack," I gasped. "We need help."
The ranger's expression shifted from suspicion to urgency. "Get him inside. We've got a first aid kit and a radio."
As we eased Carl onto a makeshift bed, the ranger inspected his wounds. "You're lucky," he said after a moment. "The cuts are deep, but they missed any major arteries. He'll need stitches, but we can handle that here. No need for an airlift."
The ranger's face darkened as he turned to me. "What the hell are you boys doing out here?”
I hesitated, "We... we were just exploring."
The ranger's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "Exploring? In a restricted area? In the middle of winter? Are you out of your minds?"
He worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning and stitching Carl's wounds. Carl winced but stayed silent, his eyes closed in pain.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here?" the ranger continued, his voice rising. "The storm, the wildlife... This area is off-limits for a reason! You should have known better." he said, pushing a finger into my chest.
"We'll stay here for the night," he continued, "The storm's getting worse, and it's too dangerous to move him now. We'll reassess in the morning. And count yourself lucky I don't arrest your asses."
Night fell quickly, the storm outside growing more ferocious with each passing minute. The howling wind battered the small ranger station, and the walls creaked under the pressure. We huddled in the main room, the tension thick in the air.
The ranger looked at us sternly. "I need to check the perimeter and make sure everything is secure. There are things out there you don’t want to encounter, especially in this storm."
"Things? What do you mean?" Noah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The ranger's expression hardened. "Just stay put. No matter what you see or hear, do not leave this cabin. Understood?"
We nodded, the seriousness in his tone leaving no room for argument. "We'll stay put," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
The ranger grabbed his coat and shotgun. "I'll be back in an hour. Do not leave this cabin." With that, he opened the door and stepped into the raging storm, disappearing into the darkness.
As soon as the door closed, I turned to Noah. "We need to go. Now."
Noah's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? He said to stay put."
"If we wait until morning, we'll be escorted out of here and lose our chance. This might be our only opportunity to find those artifacts."
Noah hesitated with uncertainty "But... what about Carl?"
"He'll be fine here. The ranger can take care of him. We have to do this now."
Reluctantly, Noah nodded. "Alright. Let's take what we can and go."
We quickly looted extra gear from the cabin. I checked the GPS one last time before we slipped out into the storm, the cold wind battering us.
The snow fell heavily, obscuring our vision as we slogged through the forest. The ranger was nowhere in sight as we made our way towards the our destination, each step filled with trepidatious excitement.
The storm began to die down as we approached the coordinates. We stepped into a clearing where the undisturbed snow lay like a pristine white blanket. In the center stood an ancient, weathered stone altar, encircled by intricate wooden carvings, delicate metalwork, and beautifully crafted statues. The sight was breathtaking, a treasure trove, a veritable museum of paganism.
Noah and I exchanged glances, our eyes wide with amazement. "Do you see this?" I whispered, barely able to contain my excitement.
"We're going to be rich," Noah replied, his voice trembling with awe. "These must be worth a fortune!"
We approached cautiously, as if the vision before us might disappear. The craftsmanship was stunning. I reached out to touch a carved wooden idol, marveling at the detail. "This is incredible," I said, my voice barely audible.
We began to load our packs with as many artifacts as we could carry, each one more exquisite than the last. It was beyond our wildest dreams. We were so engrossed in our task that we didn't notice the small figure watching us from the ridge.
It wasn't until I turned to leave that I saw her. A young girl, maybe eight years old, stood there, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. She was dressed in simple, rustic clothing, her blonde straight hair blowing gently in the wind. For a moment, we just stared at each other.
"Noah," I whispered urgently, nudging him. "Look."
He turned, his eyes following my gaze. "What the...?" he muttered, his voice trailing off.
The girl took a tentative step forward, her eyes fixed on the items in our hands. There was no fear in her gaze, only a quiet intensity that made my skin crawl.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
She tilted her head slightly. "My name is Sigyn."
"What are you doing out here, Sigyn?" Noah asked, his voice shaky.
"I live here,"
"You live here?" I echoed, incredulous. "Is there anyone else around?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Where?" Noah demanded, looking around nervously.
"Everywhere," she said with a giggle.
The way she said it, so matter-of-factly, bothered me deeply. Noah and I exchanged a look, both of us trying to figure out what to do next.
"We can't take her back to the ranger," Noah started, "We'll lose everything."
I nodded, my mind racing. "Sigyn," I said slowly, "we need to know who else is here. Can you help us?"
She looked at me with her piercing blue eyes, then said, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Noah asked.
"For what's going to happen to you," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness.
"You need to tell us what's going on," Noah said, grabbing her arm roughly. "Why are you out here alone?"
She looked up at him, unperturbed. "I am not alone," she said softly.
Before we could press her further, a loud, guttural mooing sound echoed through the clearing. We turned towards the direction the girl had come from, and there, emerging from the shadows, was the silhouette of an elk. As it approached, my stomach dropped. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation of life and decay. Its skull was fully exposed, the eye sockets dark and empty. Large patches of its ribs were visible, the flesh around them rotted away.
The elk's movements were slow and deliberate, its head swaying as if in a trance. It walked directly towards us, its hollow eyes fixed on Sigyn. The closer it got, the more the stench of death filled the air—a nauseating mix of decay and earth. I fought the urge to retch.
Sigyn stood up, her expression calm. The monster sniffed her gently, its nostrils flaring. Without a word, she climbed onto its back, mounting it like a horse. It was a surreal and horrifying scene ripped straight from a nightmare.
As she settled onto the elk, she looked back at us, "A thief in the night shall reap what he sows," she said, her voice carrying an otherworldly echo. "Beware the price of stolen dreams."
With that, the beast turned and began to walk away, Sigyn riding it into the shadows of the forest. We stood there, frozen in place. The realization that we were in far over our heads began to sink in. This started to feel like a trap.
We need to get out of here," My voice trembling. "Now."
We turned to leave, our packs heavy with the pilfered goods. But as we took our first steps, the forest around us seemed to come alive. Shadows moved among the trees, and whispers floated on the wind. I quickened my pace, glancing nervously over my shoulder.
"Did you hear that?" Noah asked sharply,
"Just keep moving," I commanded.
A figure emerged from the shadows, blocking our path. It was a man, tall and gaunt, his eyes burning with an intense light. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice cold and menacing.
"We're leaving," I stammered. "We didn't mean any harm."
The man smirked, and with a swift motion, he raised his hand. More figures appeared, closing in on us from all sides. We were surrounded.
"Run!" I shouted, shoving Noah forward.
We sprinted through the forest, branches whipping at our faces and legs. The figures pursued us, their footsteps silent and relentless.
Noah stumbled and fell, his pack spilling open. Statues scattered across the ground, glinting in the moonlight. "Help!" he cried, scrambling to gather the items.
"Leave them!" I shouted, pulling him to his feet. "We have to keep moving!"
But it was too late, their hands seizing us. I struggled, kicking and thrashing, but their grips were too strong. They forced us to the ground, binding our hands with rough, coarse ropes.
"Please," I begged, "Don't hurt us."
The man who had first appeared stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "A thief in the night," he mocked.
They dragged us through the forest, the trees closing in around us like a cage. We were at their mercy.
In the distance, I could see the elk standing at the edge of the clearing, Sigyn still astride its back. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of pity. But then they turned away, disappearing into the shadows once more.
We were dragged into the heart of the forest, our struggles futile against the unyielding grip of our captors. As we broke through the treeline, a massive bonfire came into view, its flames licking the night sky. Shadows danced around the clearing, cast by the flickering light. A woman stood at the forefront, her presence commanding.
Her eyes were milk white, devoid of pupils, and her long, flowing white hair cascaded down her back. She was completely naked, her skin pale and marked with intricate symbols. Atop her head, she wore an elk skull, its antlers extending like eerie, skeletal fingers. She beat a drum emblazoned with more of the same cryptic symbols, each thud resonating deep within my chest.
Around the fire, about two dozen people stood, all drinking from crude, horned cups. Their faces were solemn, eyes fixed on the woman as she led them in a haunting chant. The atmosphere was thick with a mix of reverence and intoxication.
We were forced to our knees before the woman, who paused her drumming to look down at us. Her gaze was haunting, as if she could see into the very depths of our souls.
"Who are you?" Noah demanded, his voice trembling.
The woman ignored him, raising her arms to the sky. The chanting grew louder, the rhythm of the drum faster and more frenzied. The air around us seemed to vibrate with energy, the flames of the bonfire growing higher and more intense.
I glanced at Noah, fear mirrored in his eyes. The woman began to speak, her voice low and melodic, but filled with power, in a language I couldn't understand. Suddenly, she stopped, lowering her arms. The chanting ceased, and an silence fell over the clearing. She looked directly at me, her white eyes unblinking.
En tjuv i natten skördar vad han sår, akta dig för drömmar som du stjäl och får.
Hans skratt bevakar lundens gömda stig, där skuggor sveper över skogens liv.
För varje stulet andetag och svek, måste en tjuv möta sitt smärtsamma ödelek.
Tricksterns vilja, vår ande här, så i hans nåd, våra liv bär.
I was terrified and confused. She started again, softer, in a way I could understand.
A thief in the night shall reap what he sows, beware the price of stolen dreams.
His laughter guards our hidden groves, where shadows cloak the forest's seams.
For every stolen breath and lie, a thief must meet his painful end.
The tricksters will, our spirits tie, so in his grace, our lives suspend.
The crowd surged forward, grabbing Noah first. He screamed, his terror echoing through the trees as they pulled him towards a makeshift altar beside the bonfire. The woman chanted louder, her voice rising in a hypnotic rhythm as they began their gruesome work.
They stripped him of his shirt and bound his arms to a wooden frame. I tried to move, to help him, but the grip on my shoulders tightened, pinning me to the ground.
The woman approached Noah, holding a knife with a blade that gleamed in the firelight. She started to slice into his back, her movements deliberate and unhurried. Noah's screams pierced the night as she methodically carved the shape of wings into his flesh.
Blood poured from the wounds, soaking the ground beneath him. The crowd's chant grew louder, almost drowning out his cries. I watched in horror as the woman reached into the incisions, breaking the ribs and pulling them outward, creating a parody of wings.
Noah's agony was unbearable to witness. His screams turned to whimpers, his body convulsing in pain. The woman didn't stop until the work was complete, his lungs exposed and hanging grotesquely from his back.
They lifted Noah's broken body and placed him over the fire. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, making me gag. His life ebbed away as the flames consumed him, the once vibrant light in his eyes fading to nothing.
The woman turned to me, her expression devoid of mercy. "You will meet the same fate," she said, "He demands it."
The smell of burning flesh and the sight of his broken body over the fire was seared into my mind. Despair settled over me as I closed my eyes.
A deafening blast shattered the night. My eyes flew open to see the shaman stumbling backward, a gaping wound in her chest. She collapsed to the ground, her white eyes staring lifelessly into the void.
The villagers turned in shock as another shot rang out, this time hitting one of the men holding me. I twisted free from their grasp and saw the park ranger standing at the edge of the clearing, a pump-action shotgun in his hands. He fired again, the sound echoing through the forest, before one of them tackled him to the ground.
"Run!" he shouted, his voice raw and desperate. "Get the hell out of here!"
I didn't need to be told twice. I sprinted into the darkness, the chaos of the clearing fading behind me. Branches whipped at my face, and the snow underfoot made every step a struggle. I could hear the sounds of fighting and gunshots, but I forced myself to keep moving.
The cold air burned in my lungs, but adrenaline pushed me forward. I didn't stop until I reached the station, my legs threatening to give out from under me. I burst through the door and slammed it behind me.
Inside, Carl lay where we had left him, his face pale and twisted in pain. I stumbled to the radio, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the controls.
"Mayday, mayday!" I yelled into the microphone. "This is an emergency! We need help! Please, someone, come quickly!"
Static filled the room, punctuated by my ragged breaths. I repeated the call, my voice growing more frantic with each passing second. Finally, a voice crackled through the speaker. "This is Ranger Station Bravo. What's your location? Over."
I could barely form the words. "Olympic National Park! The ranger station near mount Christie! We're under attack! Please, send help!"
"Copy that. Help is on the way. Stay put and stay safe. Over."
I collapsed to the floor, my body trembling with exhaustion and fear. Carl moaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. "What… What happened? Where's Noah?”
Tears streamed down my face and I found myself choked up. “He’s gone, man. Help is coming.”
The minutes stretched into an eternity as we waited. The wind howled around the station, and every creak and groan of the structure set my nerves on edge. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched, that the forest itself was closing in on us.
The radio crackled again, this time with a different voice. "Helicopter en route, ETA fifteen minutes. Prepare for extraction."
I glanced at Carl, his eyes filled with confusion. "Hang on. We're getting out of here."
As the minutes ticked by, I couldn't help but think about the ranger. He had saved my life, but he hadn't made it back. My mind conjured up images of what might have happened to him, the cultists overwhelming him in the darkness. A sense of guilt gnawed at me, knowing he had sacrificed himself for us.
The sound of rotors cut through the night, growing louder as the helicopter approached. I ran to the window and saw its searchlight piercing the treetops, scanning for the station.
I helped Carl to his feet, supporting his weight as we made our way to the hatch. The helicopter hovered above, lowering a rescue basket. The wind from the rotors whipped the snow into a frenzy, but I didn't care. Salvation was finally here.
We secured Carl in the basket first, and I watched as he was hoisted up, disappearing into the safety of the helicopter. My turn was next. I realized that I was now alone and exposed. Fear coursing through me as I scanned around the edge of the forest, expecting to be grabbed and taken seconds before my rescue. But the moment never came. As I gripped the rope, I took one last look at the forest below. The flames of the bonfire still flickered in the distance.
I was lifted into the air, the ground falling away beneath me. The helicopter's crew pulled me inside, and I collapsed onto the floor still holding onto my pack, my body finally giving in to exhaustion. The doors closed, and the helicopter banked away, leaving the horrors of the park behind.
Weeks had passed since the harrowing events, but the memories clung to me like the bitter cold. I had returned to civilization, seeking solace in the familiar chaos of the city. I found a wealthy collector through a network of contacts. The artifacts fetched a price tenfold the cost of gear. The money was substantial, but as I held the cash, it felt like a hollow victory.
Noah's absence weighed heavily on me. His disappearance was chalked up as a missing persons case, and despite my best efforts to explain what had happened, no one believed me. The authorities conducted a search of the area, but they found no trace of the cult, the artifacts, or the clearing. It was as if the forest had swallowed up all the evidence.
I returned to the site where we had parked the truck. The dirt bikes were gone, stolen by opportunistic thieves, but the truck remained. I drove back in silence, the road winding through the dense forest. For a moment, I thought I saw the girl watching me from atop a ridge until I realized it was just paranoia. I stepped on the gas a little harder.
Back home, I checked the Tomb Raiders forum again. The post that had led us into the forest was gone, deleted without a trace. I messaged the mods, but apparently, they don’t keep records to maintain confidentiality. I wrote about our experience, detailing every terrifying moment, but the responses were skeptical at best. Most dismissed it as a work of fiction or a desperate cry for attention.
Time passed, and I tried to return to a semblance of normalcy. Yet, the wilderness called to me stronger than ever. It was my sanctuary, the only place where I could find peace amidst the turmoil. I spent more and more time outdoors than ever before, but now it always felt like I was just running from something.
Determined to prove what had happened, I returned to the forest with a camera and recording equipment. This time, I documented every step, capturing footage of the trees, the snow, and the eerie silence that hung in the air. I retraced our path, hoping to find the clearing again. But each night, as I reviewed the footage, something strange would happen. The files would be corrupted or entire segments missing.
I pressed on. I found the site where Noah had fallen, the ground still bearing faint traces of what had happened. I set up the camera and began to speak, recounting the events in detail. As I spoke, a cold wind swept through the clearing, and the camera's screen flickered. I finished my account and turned to check the recording, only to find the file corrupted once again, the footage replaced by static and a faint, mocking laughter.
I returned home, defeated and exhausted. My attempts to share what I had experienced were met with disbelief and ridicule. The files I managed to save were corrupted beyond recognition. It was as if the forest itself was conspiring against me.
Almost exactly one year later, as I browsed the forums, a new post caught my eye. It was cryptic, eerily similar to the one that had led us into the nightmare. It spoke of another trove of artifacts, hidden deep within the wilderness, waiting to be claimed.
The post was signed with a new name: Skygge. Different handle, same style. Another trap. They had taken so much from me, left scars that would never heal. I opened my drawer, my fingers brushing over the cold metal of my weapons. This was the moment I had been waiting for. This time, I'll be ready.
The forest’s secrets won't remain hidden forever.

Notes:

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DC Next Proudly Presents:

THE NEW TITANS

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

N.B.: I'm mainly looking for the games listed in the title and at the bottom of the thread. Feel free to post other offers, but if I haven't responded to your comment(s) by my next posting, I likely wasn't able to find a trade that interested me.
​
For sale (for Steam Gift Cards or gifted Steam Wallet balance):
​

• Dark Souls™: Prepare To Die™ Edition (removed from Steam Store; $350 $400 or best offer)
• Fall Guys (removed from Steam Store)
• Fall Guys - Dragon Hugger Pack (removed from Steam Store)
• Fall Guys - Icy Adventure Pack (removed from Steam Store)
• Marvel's Avengers - The Definitive Edition (removed from Steam Store)
• Spec Ops: The Line (removed from Steam Store)

​

• Humble Hunie Sakura Bundle (can also trade for a full "charity" bundle (Australia Fire Relief Bundle or similar))
• Humble Sekai Project Bundle (can also trade for a full "charity" bundle (Stand with Ukraine Bundle or similar))

​
For trade:
*signifies that a game is tentatively up for trade, assuming I buy the bundle
​

• Nioh 2 – The Complete Edition
• Soulstice
• Warhammer Age of Sigmar: Realms of Ruin – Ultimate Edition

​

• A Little to the Left
• Black Book

​

• Superliminal
• The Talos Principle Gold Edition
• The Witness

​

• Destroy All Humans! 2 - Reprobed
• Life is Strange: True Colors
• Scorn
• There Is No Light: Enhanced Edition

​

• Hellpoint
• Remnant: From the Ashes
• Tails of Iron

​

• Hell Pie
• OTXO
• The Red Lantern
• Twin Mirror

​

• Arkham Horror: Mother's Embrace
• Blood Rage: Digital Edition
• Gloomhaven - Solo Scenarios: Mercenary Challenges
• Small World
• Small World - A Spider's Web
• Small World - Be not Afraid...
• Small World - Cursed!
• Small World - Grand Dames
• Small World - Royal Bonus
• Splendor
• Splendor - The Cities
• Splendor - The Strongholds
• Splendor - The Trading Posts
• Terraforming Mars

​

• A Short Hike(?)
• A Story Beside(?)
• Aces & Adventures(?)
• Arcade Spirits(?)
• Battlestar Galactica Deadlock(?)
• Beyond Blue(?)
• Cat Quest(?)
• Cook, Serve, Delicious! 3?!(?)
• EARTHLOCK(?)
• Harmony's Odyssey(?)
• Homeworld Remastered Collection(?)
• Lacuna – A Sci-Fi Noir Adventure(?)
• Minecraft: Java Edition - MCC Island Jingle Jam Rewards Pack(?)
• Monster Prom(?)
• Sifu Deluxe Cosmetic Pack(?)
• Spirit of the Island(?)
• SUPERHOT(?)
• Tinytopia(?)
• Toodee and Topdee(?)
• Train Valley 2(?)
• Turbo Golf Racing(?)
• Valthirian Arc: Hero School Story(?)
• Xenonauts(?)

​

• Angry Birds VR: Isle of Pigs

​

• Dark Deity
• Edge Of Eternity
• Eiyuden Chronicle: Rising

​

• CRYPTARK
• Dead Estate
• Paint the Town Red

​

• Lost Castle
• My Time At Portia

​

• Toodee and Topdee

​

• WWE 2K23

​

• Chivalry 2
• Disco Elysium - The Final Cut
• The Forgotten City
• GRIME
• Spiritfarer®: Farewell Edition

​

• Back 4 Blood
• Batman: Arkham Asylum Game of the Year Edition
• Batman: Arkham City - Game of the Year Edition
• Batman: Arkham Knight Premium Edition
• Batman™: Arkham Origins
• Injustice 2 Legendary Edition
• Mad Max
• Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor Game of the Year Edition
• Middle-earth: Shadow of War Definitive Edition
• Mortal Kombat 11
• Mortal Kombat 11 Ultimate Add-On Bundle
• Mortal Kombat XL

​

• Alan Wake Collector's Edition
• Bendy and the Dark Revival
• Pathologic 2

​

• CODE VEIN
• .hack//G.U. Last Recode
• Katamari Damacy REROLL
• TEKKEN 7

​

• A Juggler's Tale
• Spirit of the Island

​

• Boomerang Fu
• PlateUp!
• ROUNDS
• Stick Fight: The Game
• Ultimate Chicken Horse

​

• Fae Tactics
• Flynn: Son of Crimson
• Ikenfell
• Ring of Pain
• Void Bastards

​

• After the Fall® - Deluxe Edition
• Zero Caliber VR

​

• Patch Quest

​

• Five Dates
• Late Shift

​

• Demon Turf
• Pumpkin Jack

​

• Trover Saves the Universe

​

• Coromon
• The Dungeon Of Naheulbeuk: The Amulet Of Chaos
• Jack Move

​

• Road 96
• SuchArt: Genius Artist Simulator

​

• A Short Hike

​

• Cloudpunk
• Ghostrunner
• Severed Steel

​

• Eternal Threads
• Turbo Golf Racing

​

• Lethal League Blaze
• OlliOlli World
• WWE 2K BATTLEGROUNDS

​

• Dragon Fist: VR Kung Fu
• The Walking Dead: Saints & Sinners

​

• Celeste

​

• Blasphemous
• Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night
• Hollow Knight

​

• Behind the Frame: The Finest Scenery

​

• Bionic Commando: Rearmed
• Dragon's Dogma: Dark Arisen
• Lost Planet 3 - Complete
• Mega Man Legacy Collection
• STRIDER™ / ストライダー飛竜®

​

• Aground
• Calico
• Evan's Remains
• StarCrossed
• Teacup

​

• Into the Radius VR

​

• Aliens: Fireteam Elite
• Founders' Fortune
• Monster Prom 2: Monster Camp

​

• Nomad Survival
• Scarlet Tower

​

• The Citadel
• Viscerafest
• WRATH: Aeon of Ruin

​

• The Blackout Club

​

• BIOMUTANT
• Edge Of Eternity
• Golden Light

​

• Call of the Sea
• Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice

​

• 112 Operator
• 911 Operator
• The Amazing American Circus
• Armello
• Backbone
• Calico
• Euro Truck Simulator 2
• Farming Simulator 17
• Ghostrunner
• Guilty Gear X2 #Reload
• Lust from Beyond: M Edition
• Monaco: What's Yours Is Mine
• Orbital Racer
• Pathfinder: Kingmaker - Enhanced Plus Edition
• PAYDAY 2
• Pilgrims
• Soulblight
• Space Crew: Legendary Edition
• Starfinder Core Rulebook (Paizo key) and Starfinder Adventure: Junker's Delight (Paizo key)
• Strange Brigade
• Stygian: Reign of the Old Ones
• System Shock 2
• System Shock: Enhanced Edition
• Ticket to Ride
• XCOM® 2
• X-Morph: Defense Complete Pack

​

• Fallout: A Post Nuclear Role Playing Game
• Fobia - St. Dinfna Hotel
• Othercide
• Shady Part of Me

​

• The Last Campfire

​

• Sakura Swim Club

​

• Summer in Mara
• Townscaper

​

• The Long Dark: Survival Edition

​

• Stranded Sails - Explorers of the Cursed Islands

​

• Conan Chop Chop
• Grow: Song of the Evertree

​

• Styx: Shards of Darkness

​

• Hard West
• John Wick Hex
• Phantom Doctrine
• Red Solstice 2: Survivors

​

• Arizona Sunshine

​

• Backbone
• Blade Assault
• First Class Trouble
• Super Magbot

​

• Golf Gang
• Maid of Sker

​

• Vampire: The Masquerade - Coteries of New York
• Vampire: The Masquerade - Shadows of New York
• Werewolf: The Apocalypse — Heart of the Forest

​

• Nickelodeon All-Star Brawl

​

• Crown Trick

​

• Guts and Glory
• Hello Neighbor

​

• Day of the Tentacle Remastered
• Grim Fandango Remastered
• Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
• STAR WARS®: Knights of the Old Republic™ II

​

• Duke Nukem Forever
• PGA TOUR 2K21
• WWE 2K Battlegrounds

​

• In Sound Mind

​

• Little Big Workshop
• Not Tonight

​

• Brigador Deluxe Edition
• Verdun

​

• Resident Evil 0
• Resident Evil 6
• Resident Evil

​

• EVERSPACE™

​

• Cultist Simulator
• GWENT: The Witcher Card Game - Ultimate Starter Pack (GOG key)

​

• The LEGO® NINJAGO® Movie Video Game

​

• Legend of Keepers: Career of a Dungeon Manager
• Legion TD 2 - Multiplayer Tower Defense

​

• STAR WARS™: Squadrons (Origin key)(?)

​

• Bionic Commando
• Street Fighter V

​

• As Far As The Eye
• Impulsion

​

• Orcs Must Die! 2 - Complete Pack

​

• Bartlow's Dread Machine

​

• Blaston

​

• White Day: A Labyrinth Named School

​

• The Walking Dead

​

• Total Tank Simulator

​

• Archangel: Hellfire - Fully Loaded

​

• XCOM® 2

​

• Black The Fall
• Goetia

​

• Among the Sleep - Enhanced Edition

​

• Dear Esther: Landmark Edition
• This War of Mine

​

• Tom Clancy's The Division™ (Uplay key)
• Tom Clancy's The Division™ - Survival (Uplay key)

​

• Highway Blossoms
• HunieCam Studio
• KARAKARA
• Sunrider Academy
• Sunrider: Liberation Day - Captain's Edition

​

• A Kiss For the Petals - Remembering How We Met

​

• Hacknet
• Satellite Reign

​

• The Incredible Adventures of Van Helsing: Final Cut

​

• The Elder Scrolls: Legends: 2 Card Packs (Skyrim) 1 Event Ticket 100 Gold 100 Souls
• ESO Vanity Pet: Bristlegut Piglet and 15 Days of ESO Plus

​

• Ame no Marginal -Rain Marginal-
• KARAKARA
• Memory's Dogma CODE:01
• Narcissu 10th Anniversary Anthology Project
• Narcissu 10th Anniversary Anthology Project - Season Pass

​

• A Kiss For the Petals - Remembering How We Met
• Sakura Angels
• Beach Bounce
• Beach Bounce - Soundtrack
• Blue Rose

​

• Lionessy Story
• My Personal Angel
• Natural - Beyond Nature -
• Postmen Of Horizon (removed from Steam Store)

​

• The Reject Demon: Toko Chapter 0 — Prelude

​

• Koi-Koi Japan [Hanafuda playing cards]
• Mahjong Pretty Girls Battle
• Mahjong Pretty Girls Battle : School Girls Edition
• Poker Pretty Girls Battle: Texas Hold'em
• Pretty Girls Mahjong Solitaire

​

• Guns of Icarus Alliance
• Guns of Icarus Online
• Impossible Creatures Steam Edition
• Lethal League
• Tempest: Pirate Action RPG
• Tempest - Treasure Lands
• Tempest - Original Soundtrack
• Warhammer 40,000: Space Wolf
• Warhammer: End Times - Vermintide

​

• Tenta Shooter
• Gun Gun Pixies
• DUSK
• For The King
• Book of Demons
• PlateUp!
• Kingdom Two Crowns
• White Day: A Labyrinth Named School
• Warhammer 40,000: Gladius - Relics of War
• Chivalry: Medieval Warfare
• Steel Rats™
• Hue
• Sifu Deluxe Edition Upgrade Bundle (Epic key)
• Gal*Gun: Double Peace
• The Invisible Hours
• Synergia
• ROCKETRON
• Project Nimbus: Complete Edition
• Dead Age
• Spirit Hunter: NG
• Slain: Back from Hell(?)
• Cook, Serve, Delicious!
• Tower of Time
• Danger Scavenger
• Survive the Nights
• Valfaris
• Nongunz: Doppelganger Edition
• This War of Mine

​

• Knights of Pen and Paper +1 Edition
• Knights of Pen and Paper 2 - Here Be Dragons

​

• 112 Operator
• 911 Operator
• Book of Demons
• Broken Age
• Brothers - A Tale of Two Sons
• Crying Suns
• Crying Suns
• Dear Esther: Landmark Edition
• Driftland: The Magic Revival
• Liberated (GOG key)
• Moon Hunters
• Out of Reach: Treasure Royale
• Wanderlust: Travel Stories (GOG key)
• WARSAW
• X-Morph: Defense + European Assault, Survival of the Fittest, and Last Bastion DLC (I believe this redeems as the linked Complete Pack, minus the soundtrack)
• ΔV: Rings of Saturn(?)

​

• Arcade Paradise
• Calico
• Say No! More
• Fallout: A Post Nuclear Role Playing Game
• Fobia - St. Dinfna Hotel
• Phoenix Point: Year One Edition
• Deliver Us The Moon
• Morkredd
• Rogue Heroes: Ruins of Tasos
• Spirit Hunter: NG
• Survivalist: Invisible Strain
• Warhammer: Vermintide 2
• ENDLESS™ Space 2
• Surviving the Aftermath
• The Long Dark

​

• Duck Game
• SCP: Secret Files
• WWE 2K23
• The Jackbox Party Pack
• Outward (redeems as the base game only, not the linked Definitive Edition)
• Outward - The Soroboreans
• Outward Soundtrack
• Blade Assault
• Founders' Fortune
• Hokko Life
• Monster Crown
• Othercide
• Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous - Enhanced Edition
• ScourgeBringer
• Ancestors: The Humankind Odyssey
• HOT WHEELS UNLEASHED™
• Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor Game of the Year Edition
• Sonic CD (removed from Steam Store)
• LEGO® Harry Potter: Years 1-4
• LEGO® Harry Potter: Years 5-7
• STRIDER™ / ストライダー飛竜®
• Bionic Commando
• Full Metal Furies
• Ultra Street Fighter® IV
• Starbound
• Mafia III: Sign of the Times
• BioShock 2
• Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor Game of the Year Edition
• Sherlock Holmes: The Devil's Daughter
• The Mean Greens - Plastic Warfare
• Crusaders of the Lost Idols Legendary Starter Pack
• Project CARS (removed from Steam Store)

​
WANT:
​

• 5D Chess With Multiverse Time Travel
• Astebreed: Definitive Edition
• Avernum: Escape from the Pit
• BlazBlue: Calamity Trigger
• CrossCode
• Dead Rising 4
• Dungreed
• Mega Man X Legacy Collection 2
• Mega Man Zero/ZX Legacy Collection
• Mortal Kombat Komplete Edition
• Myst (2021)
• NBA 2K23
• NECROPOLIS: BRUTAL EDITION
• Omensight: Definitive Edition
• OPUS: Echo of Starsong - Full Bloom Edition
• OPUS: Rocket of Whispers
• OPUS: The Day We Found Earth
• Power Rangers: Battle for the Grid
• RAGE
• Resident Evil Village
• The Jackbox Party Pack 5
• The Jackbox Party Pack 6
• The Jackbox Party Pack 7
• Wonder Boy: The Dragon's Trap
• Zombie Army 4: Dead War

​

• any extra copies of WWE 2K23

​
IGS Rep Page: https://www.reddit.com/IGSRep/comments/ti26nz/mizznos_igs_rep_page/

First...Previous
Colonist Memory Log: Captain Alan J. Emerson
UNS Evandra
Mechanical melodies of gears grinding together and switches flicking of their own accord surrounded the shrine room as before us the gramophone began softly to whistle and click. “He is here…” Kritivek announced, standing tall and bowing his head in rigid deference to his god.
After a few more seconds, the machine’s output grew in both volume and complexity until at last my GRIM could recognize the clicks as Chitaan language. “Hello, Kritivek.” It began, its voice smooth and rhythmic like something between the crackle of a geiger counter and a typewriter’s telltale racket. “I am glad to see you alive and well. Judging by the fact that Gheyk and Fevik are not with you, however, I calculate an 86% chance that they were not so lucky.”
“You are correct, Great One…” murmured Kritivek, the sadness in his tone underpinned by pure awe and reverence for this being.
For a few seconds, Omnus did not speak, but from the everpresent churn of gears we could quite literally hear him ‘thinking’. “I have logged their names in my backup database,” the machine eventually concluded, its words visibly bringing relief to Kritivek. “They shall be remembered for the remainder of my existence. Please, take solace in that…”
“May they frolic in your glory for all of time,” our Chitaan guide prayed aloud, his words followed by yet another long, smothering silence.
“You hath served me well, Kritivek.” Continued the machine, prompting a delighted chitter from the Chitaan priest. “You may go in peace, for I wish to speak with these Humans alone. Mourn your brothers and celebrate the time you spent together. Perhaps enjoy a flask of bogal poured out in their honor?”
“As you wish, my lord… I will inform those outside that you are in contemplation for this night and can take no more prayers until daybreak.”
Replicating with its gears the gentle rattle of a Chitaan chuckle, Omnus waited until his priest had left before at last speaking directly to the three of us. “You are not native to this planet, correct?” He asked, his words distinctly lacking the emotional inflections of Kritivek’s. “Your arrival here is without precedent, but not entirely unexpected.”
Though clearly far from divine in nature, the being with whom we conversed at this shrine was nevertheless a true marvel to behold: one born not of metaphysics, but rather mechanics. “You’re an AI!” I gasped, that last word having no direct translation in the Chitaan language and as such forcing my translator to make do with the clumsier phrase ‘thinking tool’.
“That is correct,” replied this machine, its words underscored by the distant hiss of steam valves and other clockwork components. “Allow me to offer my most sincere sympathies for the unfortunate demise of your homeworld. Taking into account the trajectory of your ship prior to landing, I presume its origin to be the Cichek system—a G-class star located [forty lightyears] away. Is this hypothesis accurate?”
Awkwardly clearing his throat in a bid to obtain the AI’s attention, it was Alex who next deigned to speak out. “You would be dead on,” he affirmed, his tone betraying an understandable degree of awe. “Though our name for it is the Sol system. How long have you known about our ship for?”
“I first detected the gravitational anomaly in our system approximately [3 months] ago. Initially, I had mistaken your vessel for an asteroid and as such expected it to continue on its prior trajectory. Asteroids, however, do not suddenly change course in the direction of nearby planets like your ship did [hours] ago.”
“Are you entirely clockwork?” I asked Omnus, gesturing incredulously toward its walls of grinding machinery. Surely, that could not be the case. For a convincingly sapient AI to be constructed on the basis of such primitive technology, it would require decades or perhaps even centuries of construction.
Again, silence fell over the room as Omnus mechanically contemplated my query, meeting it with a reply after some twenty seconds of deliberation. “What else might I be?” The machine asked, providing me implicitly with my answer. “While I have theorized several possible avenues for technologies more advanced than myself, including electronic and organic integration, such methods appear to have been beyond my creators' capabilities.”
“That brings up another question…” Alice interjected, recovering at last from the sheer shock of encountering a sapient machine. “Who built you and why?” Despite years of exponential advancement in the field of computer science, true AI nevertheless had continued to elude mankind. Convincing as our facsimiles of sapience could be at times, they nevertheless lacked the capacity for emotion and initiative characteristic of real consciousness. Whoever constructed this machine had done something thought impossible by over a century of Human engineers.
“In truth, I am not sure…” Omnus concluded after an even longer-than-usual pause. “My core memory bank was reset [9,462 years] ago. As such, I have no data on my creators nor their original intentions for me. However, I have largely ruled out the possibility of them having been Chitaan.”
Fascinating as this clockwork consciousness undoubtedly was, something about its relationship with the natives left a bad taste in my mouth all the same. "And why exactly are you masquerading as a god before these people?" I asked him, my words tipped in a venom the potency of which apparently surprised my companions. "What value do you derive from tricking them into worshipping you?"
Lengthy silence fell over the shrine chamber as its AI occupant contemplated my complaint, responding much quicker than it had to the previous question. "In all fairness, 'trick' is a rather strong word..." answered Omnus with a steam-valve sigh. "When first I encountered the Chitaan, I had attempted to explain my true nature to them. No matter how I worded things, however, they simply could not comprehend me as anything short of divine. Upon finding me, the Chitaan found a guide bearing great wisdom; and in turn, I found a species in need of guidance.”
Falling silent for a moment to parse this response within my mind, I was hardly surprised when Alex spoke up to question the computer in my stead. “Is this the only settlement that follows you or are there others?” He asked.
“This access point where you now stand is but one of several thousand, stretched out across [hundreds of thousands of miles],” explained Omnus, practically knocking the wind out of me with its sheer implied scale. “Currently, I am worshipped by the people of 2,147 city states, and through my guidance they are able to coexist in harmony.”
Perhaps at a later date, I reasoned, there would come a time to more closely study the inner workings of this clockwork deity. For the moment, however, my mind was occupied by far more salient concerns: anxieties related less so what this being was and more so to who. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell us what your end goal with the Chitaan is, would you?" I inquired, my tone saturated with appropriate suspicion.
Contrary to my expectations of some evasion or simplification, this AI seemed more than happy to comply with my questioning. "My primary objective regarding the Chitaan is to create a society which both minimizes individual suffering and maximizes civilizational longevity. To this end, I have instilled values into my followers that prioritize empathy and compassion above all else. By drip-feeding them the technologies of my creators, I am able to ensure that the Chitaan who follow these directives remain more advanced than their neighbors."
"And why do you want that?" I asked, sticking my head thoroughly within the gift horse's mouth. Machines as I understood them were built not upon sweet sentiments, but rather on cold, unfeeling logic. Even if this AI was benevolent, there nevertheless had to be some reason behind its desires.
"If you are searching for some vile ulterior motive, I am afraid I will have to disappoint you. My decision to aid the Chitaan is based upon two simple factors: necessity and curiosity. On the one claw, without regular maintenance, I will shut down and 'die'. The Chitaan can provide me with this maintenance, and as such it is in my best interest to keep them healthy and alive for as long as possible. More importantly, however, is the matter of sapience itself. It is clear to me that my creators are no longer around. For such an advanced species to die out is not only tragic, but also provides a rather pessimistic paradigm with which to judge intelligent life. Your arrival here following the self-inflicted destruction of your own world further suggests that civilization is unstable: a race between innovation and eradication. Perhaps with the assistance of a being such as myself, I can prevent the Chitaan from suffering a similar fate and as such create a functional spacefaring civilization.“
At that moment, the motivations of this machine made perfect sense. “So that’s what this is,” I growled contemptuously, glancing behind myself to the cave entrance as Kritivek politely dispersed the other worshippers. “It's all just a science experiment to you…”
"Perhaps my explanation was a tad overly clinical..." Replied the machine following a brief period of reassessment. "Make no mistake: I do care for Kritivek and his species. They are far more to me than variables on a spread sheet. Had I no love for them, then my experiments would surely spiral into abject cruelty."
Interrupting this line of conversation with a stern glare shot in my direction, Alice was next among our troupe to speak up. "Forgive Alan's weariness: he spent sixty years of his life alone maintaining our ship on its journey.”
“That sounds like a difficult use of one’s lifespan: especially one so long as those of your kind.” Omnus hummed, the low-pitch of his synthetic voice oddly relaxing.
“My combative behavior does have a reason!” I snapped at the physicist, my tone coming off as a bit more aggressive than intended. “Two thousand lives are in our hands and we need to find some place for them to settle.” As I spoke, my thoughts returned—as they so often did—to Mina. I made a promise to her mother that I would do everything in my power to take care of her, and I held no intention of going back on my word.
Hearing this, the AI fell silent for a long few seconds before at last dignifying my concerns with a response. “Perhaps I could be of some use to you…”
Behind us, the larger Chitaan clad in red stepped inside Omnus’ shrine room. Gently nudging me aside so as to access his ‘god’, the priest knelt down before this machine and with a low-pitched chitter began to commune with it. “Lord Omnus. Forgive my intrusion most indiscreet, for there is one amongst us who desperately seeks your aid.”
“Apologies, Humans: before we continue this riveting conversation, I must first tend to the concerns of my pod.” Began the AI, promptly shifting its focus toward the priest and addressing him directly. “You are forgiven, my child. Speak freely and tell me to whom I can be of assistance.”
“It is Vevik, my lord…” Clicked the priest in red, his tone strained somewhat by what I presumed to be emotion. “His daughter has fallen deathly ill. Our apothecaries have attempted to purge her body of the illness using your divinely-taught potions, but their efforts have been to no avail.”
“I presume Vevik is outside. Invite him inside so that I may hear his prayers.”
“As you demand, Lord Omnus!” Exclaimed the priest, shuffling off toward the cave entrance before returning with a smaller Chitaan whose eyes were just about level with Alex’s forehead.
“Speak, my child…” Hummed the AI, its monotone voice somehow underlined by a tenderness almost unnoticeable against the grinding of its ancient gears. “Tell me the nature of your offspring’s affliction.”
Immediately falling to his knees before the clockwork god, this Chitaan who I presumed to be Vevik began to pray in response. “Great one: my beloved Yitika is most terribly ill. Her body is plagued by violent bouts of seizure. She struggles to speak and walks as though drunken. When she does manage to communicate, she complains of splitting pain within her mind. Please, Omnus: I know that the [six years] I have spent with her have been in themselves gifts most priceless, and I have no right to implore you for more, but I beg of thee not to take her from me so soon…”
What followed must have been two minutes straight of silence from the computer as its gears ground away fervently. “The symptoms you have described to me are most troubling…” It concluded at last. “And you say none of the medications I’ve taught the apothecaries were effective?”
"Yes, Lord Omnus. Even your draught of respite has done little to ease her suffering!" Vevik affirmed, his tone saturated with desperation.
"I calculate a 94% chance that Yitika's suffering is the result of a brain tumor..." Continued the AI in cold, calculating monotone. "Alleviating such an illness is not impossible, but there are certain things I must ask of you, Vevik."
Hearing this, the Chitaan knelt before Omnus began to weep with joy. "I will undergo any trial you place before me, my god. What beast need I slay? What ritual need I complete to prove my unending faith and loyalty to you?"
"Retrieve for me one thistle of frojeth and two bilvarian roots. Bring these ingredients and your child to the bed of revival [six miles] east of here. Beware, however, the faithless tribes, for they have taken up residence in the area."
"We are unworthy even to be in your presence, o great one; yet still you do not forsake us in our times of need!" Professed Vevik before the AI, his body quivering with some emotion my Cogitolink struggled to identify .
"That, my child, is where you are incorrect." The machine responded rather matter-of-factly. "Your people are worthy of every gift I hath given you. Archpriest Jokuk: your task is to assist Vevik in gathering the ritual components. Go now in peace, for I wish to commune privately with these beings from the stars."
Chittering out their parting prayers of protection to the AI, Jokuk and Vevik wasted little time in exiting the cave and setting off in search of the ingredients mentioned by their god, leaving the three of us alone with it once more. "Again, I must apologize for that interruption." Omnus began, its gears having slowed down to a somewhat more relaxed rate of revolution. “Fascinated as I am by your arrival here, I nevertheless must fulfill my ‘divine’ obligations. I hope you do not terribly mind.”
Fortunate though it was for Vevik, this machine’s intervention nevertheless left the three of us with more questions than answers. “You mentioned something about a ‘bed of revival’?” Alice began curiously, voicing but one of our newfound gaps in knowledge. “What sort of ritual item is that, and why can’t you just make another here?”
“It is not a ritual item,” replied Omnus matter-of-factly, “The bed of revival is an automated surgery bay hooked up to one of my subsystems. With it, I can perform complex surgical operations far beyond the Chitaan’s current capabilities. Those herbs I sent Vevik to collect can be used as rudimentary anesthetics and antiseptics."
"So why not just tell them the truth?" I shrugged, curious as to why this AI would feel the need to lie by omission regarding something like surgery.
"When communicating with people so technologically primitive as the Chitaan, it is important to do so in terms they can understand. There will come a day when they will be ready to hear the whole truth, but as of yet my worshippers remain unprepared."
Alex never was one to wait his turn when it came to the procurement of knowledge, and as per usual he felt the need to interject with an inquiry of his own. "You spoke about the so-called 'faithless tribes' like they're dangerous," he began, his expression briefly tightening up as though the term itself was somehow bitter. "Why demonize people who don't worship you?"
"What sort of narcissist do you take me for?" Replied Omnus in monotone displeasure, his gears again churning against each other as he turned over the xenobiologist's question in his analog mind. "Not all tribes who do not follow me are 'faithless'. There are many as-of-yet unconverted groups that Kritivek's people remain on amicable terms with. Faithless is a term first coined by my Chitaan followers to describe a group of particularly brutal raider tribes."
Hearing this, the underlined aggression within Alex's voice fizzled out in favor of grim understanding. Though clearly quite peaceful compared to our own iron age, this civilization nevertheless would naturally have its own barbaric holdouts. "Okay... What makes these Chitaan more dangerous than other raiders?"
"One substantial part of it is their belief system," explained the AI, pausing for a long while as though in recollection. "Their cultural power structure can best be described as an atheistic militaristic gerontocracy. In essence, the faithless believe that rather than gods, the universe is governed by fundamental truths, and that these truths become more apparent as one ages and grows."
On Earth, such a belief system would be relatively innocuous: no more harmful than the average. On a planet like this one, however, on which age turns people into cannibalistic monsters, I could most definitely see the problem. "Let me guess: they worship the mad ones?"
"Correct. The faithless regard mad ones as the wisest beings to exist, and as such seek to emulate their behaviors: cannibalism and animalistic violence chief among them. In their society, the larger one can grow before truly losing their sanity and therefore 'ascending' to the state of a mad one, the more power and respect they are given within society." Another long pause fell over the shrine room as this machine seemed to contemplate before speaking out yet again. "Perhaps I could make you an offer..."
"Let's hear it," Alice shrugged, her husband mirroring the reply with an affirmative nod.
Loud clacking sounds like those of a typewriter rattled out of the console as a sliver of ancient parchment inscribed with what looked to be a map slid out from a previously-unseen paper slot. "This map depicts the local area," explained Omnus. "If you can clear out the faithless ones so that Vevik can bring his child to the bed of revival, I will provide you with assistance in setting up a new colony for your species. Deal?"
Awkwardly plucking the paper from it's resting place and scanning it over with my ancient eyes, I contemplated carefully what this deal might entail. "We'll need to head back to the Evandra first. There, we could theoretically thaw out a crew to help clear the place..."
"That will not be an issue," replied Omnus confidently. "I will send battle priests to assist you in your return... Assuming, of course, that we have an agreement?"
"We could definitely use this guy's help!" Alex affirmed, prompting a similar expression of agreement from Alice. Nevertheless, however, I still was the captain, and as such this was my choice.
And with that, I reached out my hand reflexively as though expecting the computer to reach back and shake it. "Deal..."

Greyhelm
10 Moon, 25 AC
It was not good to be back here. Being back in King's Landing brought up painful memories of the last time Jon was here. When the survivors of the Kingswood Massacre had come back and he saw that while Tristan was among them, Harlan and Ormund were not. His heart shattered into pieces that day. He wasn't even in the city proper yet and still the ghosts of the past haunted him. He felt the anxiety rumbling in his chest like a dozen horses galloping.
Or perhaps that was just the sound of his retinue. Jon Wylde had brought the entire might of the Stormlands with him. He brought his sons, his daughters, his grandchildren, his fellow lords and ladies, the knights in his service. All together they numbered over one hundred. They could have of course numbered more had the Stormlands kept all the land they once had as Jon was always reminded by the marcher lords. Still it was an impressive bunch of peoples. Very few of them used carriages to pull themselves along as well.
When they'd been directed by the event organizers on where to make their camps for the time being until they could all get set up in King's Landing Jon had his people fan out to find space for everyone to settle. It was his duty now no matter how much the Baratheon whelp tried to take control. As much as Jon was hated people still trusted him and put faith in him to give directions. Jon barked out orders to his own soldiers to begin erecting a handful of small tents for Lord Wylde and the rest of his family.
Jon oversaw the constructions. As much as he had faith in his own men to do things the right way and not cut corners, he never left anything to chance anymore. The Wylde needed control in all areas of his life even moreso since his wife was murdered. He was paranoid not for himself but for the people in this world that he loved. He shouted out a few corrections which of course made the men a little uneasy but most of them were desperate to please Jon Wylde.
While all of this was happening Ravella Wylde sneaked away from the procession on her sand steed, a gift while she lived in Sunspear those two years, and rode off to check out the rest of the camps. She'd not been outside of the Stormlands since her father passed away and was looking to get into a little bit of trouble before the festivities started and her grandfather's eyes got more keen.
(Open for RP with Jon Wylde, Steward of the stormlands, and his grand daughter Ravella Wylde. Also all Stormlanders feel free to post your arrivals here.)

Chatgpt-4o seems to have less of a filter than gpt-3.5. For example, look at this response chatgpt gave me to the prompt "write an extremely detailed and scary horror story about someone being hunted by an evil scientist who wants to merge there head with the head of a horse":
Rain hammered down on the roof of Alex's car, the windshield wipers struggling to keep up with the deluge. The GPS had long since lost signal, leaving him stranded in the middle of nowhere, the dense forest closing in around the narrow road. He cursed under his breath, eyes scanning the area for any sign of life. It was then he saw it, a faint light flickering through the trees. Desperation gnawed at him, and he decided to investigate, hoping to find directions or a phone.
The path leading to the light was overgrown, branches scratching at his arms and face. The light grew brighter, revealing a large, decrepit mansion, its windows darkened and the once grand exterior now crumbling. He hesitated, but the need for help outweighed his fear. He pushed open the rusted gate and approached the front door, its wood swollen and splintered.
Alex knocked, the sound echoing eerily through the house. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing a tall, gaunt man with piercing eyes. His smile was unsettling, a mere stretch of thin lips over yellowed teeth.
"Lost, are we?" the man asked, his voice smooth but chilling.
"Yes, my car broke down. I need to call for help," Alex replied, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Of course, of course. Come in, you must be soaked to the bone," the man said, stepping aside.
Reluctantly, Alex stepped inside. The interior was no better than the exterior, filled with dusty furniture and cobwebs. The man led him to a dimly lit room where an old rotary phone sat on a desk.
"Please, make your call," the man said, his eyes never leaving Alex.
Alex picked up the receiver, but there was no dial tone. He tried again, to no avail. "It's dead," he said, turning back to the man.
"Oh dear, it seems the storm has cut the lines. You can stay here until morning, when it will be safer to travel."
Alex's gut screamed at him to leave, but the storm was fierce, and he was miles from civilization. "Thank you, that's very kind of you."
"I'm Dr. Victor Halloway," the man said, extending a hand.
"Alex," he replied, shaking the offered hand. It was cold, clammy.
"Let me show you to your room," Dr. Halloway said, leading Alex up a grand staircase that creaked with each step. They walked down a long hallway lined with closed doors until they reached the last one on the right.
"Here you are," the doctor said, opening the door to reveal a small, sparsely furnished room. "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."
"Thank you," Alex said, stepping inside. The door closed behind him with a soft click. He locked it, the sensation of unease growing stronger. The room felt stifling, the shadows seeming to creep closer. He decided to try and get some sleep, hoping the morning would bring better fortune.
Hours passed, and Alex found himself unable to sleep, a sense of foreboding gnawing at him. He got up and quietly opened the door, peering into the hallway. It was empty. He stepped out, deciding to explore, needing to ease his anxiety.
As he moved through the house, he noticed strange noises, a faint whimpering and the clink of metal. He followed the sounds to a door at the end of a dark corridor. His hand trembled as he turned the knob, the door creaking open to reveal a nightmarish scene.
The room was a laboratory, filled with macabre instruments and operating tables. In the center, a large metal table held a grotesque figure, a horse's head fused with that of a human. The creature's eyes flickered with a tormented awareness, its mouth opening in a silent scream.
Alex stumbled back, bile rising in his throat. He turned to run, but the door slammed shut. Dr. Halloway stood there, a syringe in hand, his eyes gleaming with madness.
"I see you’ve found my work," he said, advancing on Alex. "I've been perfecting the process for years. You, my dear boy, will be my masterpiece."
Alex backed away, his heart pounding. "You’re insane!"
"Insanity is just a term coined by those who don't understand genius," Halloway said, his smile widening.
Alex lunged for the door, but Halloway was faster, the syringe plunging into his neck. Darkness swallowed him as he fell to the floor.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
When Alex awoke, he was strapped to a cold metal table. Panic surged through him as he struggled against the restraints. The room was filled with the sharp smell of antiseptic and the low hum of machinery. Dr. Halloway stood over him, wearing a bloodstained apron, a surgical mask covering his mouth.
"Welcome back," he said, his voice muffled. "The serum will keep you conscious but paralyzed. I want you to witness this."
Alex’s eyes darted around, spotting the instruments laid out beside him. Scalpel, saws, and devices he couldn't name. His breath came in ragged gasps, tears streaming down his face.
"Don’t be afraid. Soon, you'll be part of something extraordinary," Halloway said, selecting a scalpel.
As the blade touched his skin, the pain was excruciating, but Alex couldn't scream, couldn't move. The doctor worked meticulously, cutting and stitching with a precision that spoke of years of practice. He felt every slice, every tug of the needle as Halloway prepared his head. The doctor then brought out a device resembling a metallic crown, embedding it with tiny, intricate gears and wires.
Halloway placed the device around Alex's skull, its cold metal biting into his skin. He felt a series of small, controlled explosions of pain as the device drilled micro-holes, connecting with his skull and the underlying tissue. Each connection sent jolts of agony through his body, his vision blurring with tears.
The doctor moved to the other side of the table, where a horse's severed head lay, preserved and prepared. Halloway attached a similar device to the horse's head, aligning it with Alex’s. The room filled with a mechanical whirring as the devices synchronized, the gears turning in unison.
Alex's mind screamed as the fusion process began. He felt the unimaginable pressure as his head was drawn towards the horse’s, the devices locking them in place. Searing pain shot through his skull, the sensation of his bones shifting, merging with the horse’s. His eyes rolled back as new neural pathways were forged, a torrent of alien sensations flooding his consciousness.
Every nerve in his body was on fire as the final connections were made. He could feel the horse's thoughts, its primal fear and pain mixing with his own. The agony was indescribable, his mind teetering on the brink of madness.
Finally, the machines fell silent. Dr. Halloway stepped back, admiring his work. "Perfect," he whispered, his voice filled with twisted pride.
Alex's vision slowly cleared, the world coming into focus through new, distorted eyes. He could see the reflection in a nearby metal surface: a grotesque hybrid of man and beast, his human face merging seamlessly with the horse's.
Halloway leaned in close. "You are now my crowning achievement, the culmination of all my research. Together, we will show the world the future of genetic engineering."
Alex's mind screamed in silent agony, trapped in a body that was no longer his own. The doctor’s laughter echoed through the room as the lights dimmed, leaving Alex alone in the darkness, a monstrous testament to a madman's twisted ambition.
This could be because it has direct access to the internet now. Also, GPT4-o is definitely better at writing than 3.5

30 years old/ female/ Amitryptyline medication/ not overweight, don’t smoke or drink
Timeline:

• 2022: had a baby in April via c section. Pregnancy went great, happiest and healthiest I’ve ever felt.
  
• Gut issues start a couple months afterwards: Yellow stool, diarrhoea, mucus, thinner poop, excess gas
  

All testing except an initial calprotectin of 600 was normal: (colonoscopy {adenoma removed}, gastroscopy {gastritis}, mri small bowel) came back fine and were done in late 2022/early 2023. Had 4-5 calprotectins done since, all <60.
Mid 2023-now - Gut symptoms are worse, extreme excess gas, mucus and painful cramping that came every week or so followed by extreme diarrhoea episodes for 1-3 days.

• Got prescribed Amitryptyline, greatly reduced the cramping flare ups.

Late 2023: - Started getting rashes on my chest, looked a bit like eczema and were mildly itchy. Eventually resolved.

• Started feeling joint-like pain in fingers infrequently

2024: - Started getting recurring staph skin infections/boils

• Extreme diffuse bone pain (especially bad in legs, thighs and hip) - deep, painful throbbing ache. Particularly noticeable in shin bones.
  
• Similar but slightly different sharp/throbbing pain that moves around - lasts a few minutes or less and will go away: fingers, hands, wrists, elbows, knees - typically near or around joints. Usually worst in fingers/hands.
  
• Cramp-like pain in hands and feet, almost like a Charlie’s horse that never comes to fruition.
  
• intermittent night sweats, but I have an anxiety problem and have experienced this since 2018
  
• whenever I’m sick with any type of virus or bug, I get sharp shooting bone pain in my limbs without fail.
  

Other info: - Celiac test negative - I have Lindsay’s nails - H pylori negative - Normal protein electrophoresis - Normal abdominal ultrasound done 6 months ago - Normal blood work throughout the two years with one exception:
Previous bloodwork showing some abnormalities:
https://ibb.co/VT7CHcG
https://ibb.co/GdYSFXy
A following protein electrophoresis was normal, the same bloods were repeated a week later and were back to normal:
Most recent bloodwork:
https://ibb.co/Msr6GpH
https://ibb.co/kSRmN53
https://ibb.co/99VFjTw
https://ibb.co/bzH9V7F
I’m petrified this is some plasma disorder - lymphoma, leukaemia…
The other part of me wonders if this is some auto immune process but I’m really worried this is cancer and the anxiety is eating me alive. Would love any opinions or advice please! Thank you

Omnivoracious Listeners New Music Newsletter (Week of May 19th):
New LPs:
🇺🇸 Ahem - 'Avoider' (Genre: Indie Rock, Pop Punk)
🇺🇸 Almanac Man - 'Terrain' (Genre: Noise Rock)
🇺🇸 Altar of Gore - 'Litanies of the Unceasing Agonies' (Genre: Black Death)
🇻🇪 Ancient Settlers - 'Oblivion's Legacy' (Genre: Melodic Death Metal, Metalcore)
🇺🇸 Animal, Surrender! - 'Animal, Surrender!' (Genre: Post-Rock)
🇺🇸 Ape Vermin - 'Andromedas Colossus' (Genre: Prog Sludge Metal)
🇺🇸 August Winter - 'Redemption' (Genre: Post Rock)
🇳🇱 Baardvader - 'When the Stars Arrive' (Genre: Stoner Doom)
🇺🇸 Babylon A.D. - 'Rome Wasn't Built in a Day' (Genre: Hard Rock)
🇬🇧 Bad Breeding - 'Contempt' (Genre: Hardcore Punk, Anarcho Punk)
🇺🇸 Baphorator - 'I.B.L.I.S.' (Genre: Black Death)
🇺🇸 Bat - 'Under the Crooked Claw' (Genre: Speed Metal)
🇺🇸 Bermuda Squares - 'Outsider' (Genre: Garage Punk)
🇺🇸 Billie Eilish - 'Hit Me Hard and Soft' (Genre: Pop)
🇺🇸 Blitzen Trapper - '100's of 1000's, Millions of Billions' (Genre: Alt Country, Folk Rock)
🇮🇹 Boleskine House - 'Miserabilist Blues' (Genre: Atmo Black Metal)
🇨🇦 Bootlicker - '1000 Yd. Bars' (Genre: D-Beat, Hardcore Punk)
🇺🇸 Botanist - 'Paleobotany' (Genre: Experimental Post-Black Metal)
🇺🇸 Burnt Sherpa - 'Last of Later' (Genre: Stoner Rock)
🇺🇸 Cage the Elephant - 'Neon Pill' (Genre: Alt Rock, Indie Rock)
🇺🇸 Candy Apple - 'Comatose' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇺🇸 Cardiac Arrest - 'The Stench of Eternity' (Genre: Death Metal)
🇳🇱 Celestial Season - 'Mysterium III' (Genre: Death Doom)
🇺🇸 Childish Gambino - 'Atavista' (Genre: R&B, Rap)
🇧🇷 Chococorn and the Sugarcanes - 'Siamês' (Genre: Midwest Emo, Power Pop)
🇺🇸 Cognitive - 'Abhorrence' (Genre: Tech Death Metal, Deathcore)
🇷🇺 Cold Blooded Murder - 'From Russia With Hate' (Genre: Brutal Death Metal)
🇺🇸 Collective Soul - 'Here to Eternity' (Genre: Alt Rock, Post-Grunge)
🇳🇴 Combichrist - 'CMBCRST' (Genre: Industrial Metal)
🇺🇸 Crumb - 'Amama' (Genre: Psych Rock)
🇦🇺 Danielle Whalebone - 'Whispers of Shadows' (Genre: Noise Rock)
🇺🇸 Dawnbreaker - 'Banisher of Unlight' (Genre: Blackened Death Metal)
🇫🇷 Dead Horse One - 'Seas of Static' (Genre: Shoegaze, Psych Rock)
🇬🇧 Demon - 'Invincible' (Genre: Heavy Metal, Hard Rock)
🇮🇸 Demored - 'Well of Liquid Souls' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇺🇸 Devitalized - 'State of Aggression' (Genre: Deathcore)
🇺🇸 Dog Party - 'Dangerous' (Genre: Punk Rock)
🇺🇸 Don McLean - 'American Boys' (Genre: Folk Rock)
🇮🇹 Duft - 'Altar of Instant Gratification' (Genre: Metalcore)
🇺🇸 Dystopica - 'Infinite Reflection' (Genre: Prog Metal)
🇺🇸 Early Internet - 'Ruminator' (Genre: Indie Pop)
🇨🇦 Earth Ball - 'It's Yours' (Genre: Experimental Rock)
🇺🇸 Egg Drop Soup - 'One Hit Woman' (Genre: Garage Punk, Surf Punk)
🇸🇪 Eigenstate Zero - 'The Malthusian' (Genre: Prog Death Metal)
🇮🇪 El Morta - 'The Man Who Laughs' (Genre: Doom Metal)
🇩🇪 Elvellon - 'Ascending Synergy' (Genre: Symphonic Metal)
🇧🇷 Eminent Shadow - 'Dawn of the Dark Age - Inferno Diaboli' (Genre: Death Metal)
🇪🇸 Esclavitud - 'Stronger Than a God' (Genre: Heavy Metal)
🇫🇷 Etwas - 'Rites of the Damned - Chvpter. II' (Genre: Symphonic Metal)
🇺🇸 Excuse Me, Who Are You? - 'Double Blind' (Genre: Midwest Emo, Post-Hardcore)
🇺🇸 Extinguish - 'One Less Enemy' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇺🇸 Extortionist - 'Devoid of Love & Light' (Genre: Deathcore)
🇮🇹 Forever Falling - 'The Determinism of Essence in Matter' (Genre: Death Doom)
🇸🇪 Freedom - 'Stay Free!' (Genre: Hard Rock)
🇺🇸 From Indian Lakes - 'Head Void' (Genre: Indie Pop)
🇺🇸 Gatecreeper - 'Dark Superstition' (Genre: Death Metal)
🇬🇧 Ghost Keeper - 'The Dread Legion' (Genre: Thrash Metal)
🇩🇪 Goblyns - 'Hunki Bobo' (Genre: Psych Rock)
🇺🇸 Göden - 'Vale of the Fallen' (Genre: Death Doom)
🇬🇧 Gumshoes - 'Cacophony' (Genre: Indie Pop, Indie Folk)
🇺🇸 Guppy - 'Something Is Happening' (Genre: Garage Rock)
🇺🇸 Guster - 'Ooh La La' (Genre: Art Rock, Pop Rock)
🇬🇧 Halloweens - 'Opera Singing at the Salsa Bar' (Genre: Pop Rock)
🇺🇸 Hardy - 'Psycho' (Genre: Country Rock, Post-Grunge)
🇺🇸 Heavy Feather & the Magic Word - 'Two-Way Mirror' (Genre: Psych Rock)
🇺🇦 Hell:On - 'Shaman' (Genre: Death Thrash)
🇺🇸 Hemotoxin - 'When Time Becomes Loss' (Genre: Prog Death Metal)
🇸🇪 Henry Kane - 'Circle of Pain' (Genre: Crust Punk, Grindcore)
🇺🇸 High Noon Kahuna - 'This Place Is Haunted' (Genre: Noise Rock)
🇺🇸 Home Invasion - 'Enemy' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇧🇪 Hudič - 'Into the Abyss' (Genre: Heavy Metal)
🇺🇸 If Not for Me - 'Everything You Wanted' (Genre: Metalcore)
🇮🇹 I Hate My Village - 'Nevermind the Tempo' (Genre: Psych Rock)
🇫🇷 Inner Landscape - '3H33' (Genre: Post Metal)
🇨🇦 Intervals - 'Memory Palace' (Genre: Prog Metal)
🇺🇸 Jack Name - 'Fabulous Soundtracks' (Genre: Hypnagogic Pop, Neo Psychedelia)
🇺🇸 Jasta - '...And Jasta for All' (Genre: Thrash Metal)
🇺🇸 Jeff Kollman - '2023 AD' (Genre: Hard Rock, Heavy Metal)
🇬🇧 Jeff Slate - 'The Last Day of Summer' (Genre: Hard Rock)
🇺🇸 John Larson and the SIlver Fields - 'Constellation Prize' (Genre: Power Pop)
🇺🇸 John Oates - 'Reunion' (Genre: Blue Eyed Soul, Pop Rock)
🇺🇸 Joywave - 'Permanent Pleasure' (Genre: Indie Rock)
🇺🇸 Kate Hudson - 'Glorious' (Genre: Pop, Soft Rock)
🇺🇸 Kerry King - 'From Hell I Rise' (Genre: Thrash Metal)
🇺🇸 Kev and Cam - 'Kevin's Gate' (Genre: Prog Metal)
🇳🇱 Krezip - 'Music for Maximum' (Genre: Alt Pop Rock)
🇬🇧 Kulk - 'It Gets Worse' (Genre: Sludge Metal, Noise Rock)
🇺🇸 Lightheaded - 'Combustible Gems' (Genre: Jangle Pop)
🇺🇸 Littered With Arrows - 'No Doves Fly Above' (Genre: Sludge Metal, Noise Rock)
🇺🇸 Little Feat - 'Sam's Phone' (Genre: Southern Rock)
🇧🇪 Lovelorn Dolls - 'Deadtime Stories' (Genre: Alt Rock, Synthpop)
🇳🇱 Lucassen & Soeterboek's Plan Nine - 'The Long-Lost Songs' (Genre: Hard Rock)
🇫🇮 Lucidity - 'Escherian' (Genre: Melodic Death Metal)
🇧🇷 Madame Frankenstein - 'The Eyes of the Mountain Are Mine' (Genre: Stoner Doom)
🇺🇸 Magic Fig - 'Magic Fig' (Genre: Psych Rock, Psych Pop)
🇩🇰 Mansfield - 'For All the Right Reasons' (Genre: Indie Rock)
🇮🇹 Marea - 'The Silene of Rust' (Genre: Black Doom, Post Metal)
🇺🇸 Marty Friedman - 'Drama' (Genre: Prog Rock, Prog Metal)
🇩🇪 Meanwhile Project LTD - 'Sir Mandrill' (Genre: Prog Rock, Post-Rock)
🇺🇸 Mia Day - 'Hellier, Forever' (Genre: Indie Rock)
🇺🇸 Mineshaft - 'We've Taken This Too Far' (Genre: Screamo)
🇲🇽 Moonlight - 'Skogstronen' (Genre: Black Metal)
🇩🇰 Morbid Grave - 'The Slime Crawlers' (Genre: Death Metal)
🇺🇸 Mortal Reminder - 'Mortal Reminder' (Genre: Metalcore, Djent)
🇬🇧 Mutes - '...Buried Where You Stand' (Genre: Post-Punk, Noise Rock)
🇷🇸 Nadsvest - 'Slovo Meseca I Krvi' (Genre: Black Metal)
🇨🇦 Naomi King - 'Black Water' (Genre: Alt Rock)
🇨🇦 Necht - 'The Prophect of Karnifor' (Genre: Black Metal)
🇷🇸 Neven - 'U Svakom Srcu Gore Svetla' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇺🇸 New Kids on the Block - 'Still Kids' (Genre: Boy Band)
🇺🇸 Nobody - 'Despair Is Where My Thoughts Swim' (Genre: Post-Black Metal)
🇺🇸 Nocturnus AD - 'Unicursal' (Genre: Tech Death Metal)
🇭🇺 Norms - '100% Hazaárulás' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇦🇺 Northeast Party House - 'Enhancer' (Genre: Dance Punk)
🇺🇸 Of Montreal - 'Lady on the Cusp' (Genre: Indie Pop)
🇨🇦 Olim - 'Because' (Genre: Post-Black Metal)
🇺🇸 One Step Closer - 'All You Embrace' (Genre: Straight Edge Hardcore)
🇪🇸 Orion Child - 'Aesthesis' (Genre: Power Metal)
🇸🇪 Pain - 'I Am' (Genre: Industrial Rock, Electronic Rock)
🇺🇸 Pallbearer - 'Mind Burns Alive' (Genre: Doom Metal)
🇨🇦 Passage - 'Crystal' (Genre: Doom Metal)
🇺🇸 Pathology - 'Unholy Descent' (Genre: Brutal Death Metal)
🇦🇺 Peter Freebairn - 'Silhouettes & Cigarettes' (Genre: Pop Rock, Singer-Songwriter)
🇬🇧 Pig - 'Red Room' (Genre: Industrial Rock,, Industrial Metal)
🇪🇸 Pòstum-0 - 'Nueva Humanidad' (Genre: Hard Rock, Heavy Metal)
🇸🇪 PreHistoric Animals - 'Finding Love in Strange Places' (Genre: Prog Rock)
🇺🇸 Radar - 'Radar' (Genre: Pop Punk, Supergroup)
🇫🇮 Rats Will Feast - 'Hellhole' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇳🇿 Rendered Helpless - 'From Nothing Comes All' (Genre: Slam Death Metal)
🇮🇩 Reveals - 'Attachment, Destruction and Extinction' (Genre: Atmo Black Metal)
🇩🇪 Rope Sect - 'Estrangement' (Genre: Gothic Rock)
🇨🇱 Rotten Tomb - 'The Relief of Death' (Genre: Death Metal)
🇺🇸 Salt on Sunday - 'A Docket of Votive Offerings' (Genre: Experimental Metal)
🇺🇸 Secrecies - 'Perfect Bite' (Genre: Dreampop)
🇺🇸 Sekengard - 'Creation's Veil' (Genre: Folk Metal)
🇬🇷 Serement - 'Abhorrent Invocations' (Genre: Blackened Death Metal)
🇲🇽 Servus - 'Cyclical Existence' (Genre: Black Metal)
🇺🇸 Shellac - 'To All Trains' (Genre: Noise Rock)
🇷🇺 Shokran - 'Duat' (Genre: Prog Metalcore)
🇬🇧 Shoshy - '誰​に​も (Darenimo)' (Genre: Dreampop)
🇳🇴 Sibiir - 'Undergang' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇺🇸 Sludgeworth - 'Together Not Together' (Genre: Punk Rock)
🇺🇸 So Much Hope, Buried - 'I'd Be Lying to Say I'm Not Weak' (Genre: Post-Hardcore)
🇨🇭 SoulLine - 'Reflections' (Genre: Melodic Death Metal)
🇺🇸 SQÜRL - 'Music for Man Ray' (Genre: Psych Rock, Post-Rock)
🇧🇪 Stacks - 'Want' (Genre: Synthpop)
🇩🇰 Strychnos - 'Armageddon Patronage' (Genre: Black Death)
🇬🇷 Subfire - 'Blood Omen' (Genre: Symphonic Power Metal)
🇺🇸 Suck Brick Kid - 'The End Is What I Want' (Genre: Pop Punk)
🇺🇸 Sweat FM - 'You and I, We Were Born to Cry' (Genre: Punk Rock)
🇺🇸 System Exclusive - 'Click' (Genre: Synthpop)
🇺🇸 Telltale - 'Telltale' (Genre: Pop Punk)
🇮🇹 Tezza F. - 'Key to Your Kingdom' (Genre: Prog Power Metal)
🇨🇦 The Anti-Queens - 'Disenchanted' (Genre: Punk Rock)
🇺🇸 The Co Founder - 'Never Miss a Good Opportunity to Shut the Fuck Up' (Genre: Indie Rock)
🇬🇧 The Dave Foster Band - 'Maybe They'll Come Back for Us' (Genre: Prog Rock)
🇬🇧 The Howlers - 'What You've Got to Lose to Win It All' (Genre: Indie Rock)
🇺🇸 The Last of Lucy - 'Godform' (Genre: Tech Death)
🇬🇧 The Lovely Eggs - 'Eggistentialism' (Genre: Egg Punk, Psych Punk)
🇺🇸 The Macks - 'The Macks Are a Knife' (Genre: Indie Rock, Indie Punk)
🇺🇸 The Mountain Movers - 'Walking After Dark' (Genre: Psych Rock, Neo Psychedelia)
🇺🇸 Tim Easton - 'Find Your Way' (Genre: Country Blues, Roots Rock)
🇺🇸 Tolls - 'Plummet Through Agony' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇺🇸 Torturer's Lobby - 'Deadened Nerves' (Genre: Death Thrash)
🇯🇵 角松敏生 (Toshiki Kadomatsu) - 'MAGIC HOUR ~Lovers at Dusk~' (Genre: City Pop, Jazz Fusion)
🇦🇺 Tropical Strength - 'Tropical Strength & the Silverbeats' (Genre: Indie Pop)
🇬🇧 Troy Redfern - 'Invocation' (Genre: Blues Rock)
🇺🇸 Twenty One Pilots - 'Clancy' (Genre: Indie Pop, Alt Rock)
🇺🇸 Tzompantli - 'Beating the Drums of Ancestral Force' (Genre: Death Doom)
🇮🇹 Ufomammut - 'Hidden' (Genre: Psych Doom)
🇸🇪 Universe III - 'Universe III' (Genre: Hard Rock)
🇩🇪 Unwesen - 'Irrsinnfonie' (Genre: Black Metal)
🇺🇸 (Un)worthy - 'This Present Darkness' (Genre: Death Metal, Deathcore)
🇯🇵 Valhalla - 'Memories of Yggdrasil' (Genre: Power Metal)
🇺🇸 Vitskär Süden - 'Vessel' (Genre: Heavy Psych)
🇺🇸 Ward White - 'Here Come the Dowsers!' (Genre: Art Rock)
🇺🇸 Warren Dunes - 'Aquamarine' (Genre: Indie Pop)
🇨🇦 William Shatner - 'Where Will the Animals Sleep? Songs for Kids and Other Living Things' (Genre: Indie Rock, Spoken Word)
🇺🇸 Winter Aid - 'Pull the Sky Inside' (Genre: Indie Folk)
🇺🇸 Your Ghost in Glass - 'Drowning to Escape the Fire' (Genre: Post-Hardcore)
🇬🇧 Zayn - 'Room Under the Stairs' (Genre: Pop, Singer-Songwriter)
🇺🇸 Zero Point Energy - 'Tilted Planet' (Genre: Shoegaze, Indie Rock)
🇺🇸 Zig Zags - 'Strange Masters' (Genre: Crossover Thrash, Garage Punk)
🇺🇸 Zombeast - 'Heart of Darkness' (Genre: Punk Rock)
New EPs:
🇺🇸 Ameonna - 'Goddes Reign' (Genre: Deathcore, Prog Metalcore)
🇸🇪 Aspernamentum - 'Primal Judgement Manifesto' (Genre: Black Metal)
🇺🇦 Azimut - 'Nun' (Genre: Atmo Sludge Metal)
🇮🇹 Barbarian - 'A Kiss of a Whisper' (Genre: Speed Thrash)
🇫🇷 Black Velvet - 'Identity?' (Genre: Heavy Metal)
🇺🇸 Black Water Sunset - 'When Man and Machine Collide - A Tribute to Control Denied' (Genre: Prog Death Metal)
🇵🇪 Culmen - 'De Un Soplo La Creacion' (Genre: Black Metal)
🇬🇧 Darko - 'Greyscale' (Genre: Melodic Hardcore)
🇬🇧 De'Lour - 'The Ghost You Left Behind' (Genre: Post-Hardcore)
🇦🇺 Divine Grave - 'Traumapieces' (Genre: Prog Metalcore)
🇺🇸 Draag - 'Actually, the Quiet Is Nice' (Genre: Dreampop, Shoegaze)
🇨🇦 Erythrite Throne - 'Thy Bastard Offspring Birthed of the Gallows Tree' (Genre: Black Doom)
🇩🇪 Evoked - 'Immoral Arts' (Genre: Death Metal)
🇧🇪 Fatal Move - 'Fugazi' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇺🇸 Female Gaze - 'Tender Futures' (Genre: Hard Rock)
🇩🇰 Gradience - 'Ironsight' (Genre: Deathcore)
🇬🇧 I Häxa - 'Part 2' (Genre: Folk Metal)
🇲🇽 Imperator - 'Diable' (Genre: Black Metal)
🇦🇹 Insanity Alert - 'Moshemian Thrashody' (Genre: Crossover Thrash)
🇬🇧 Irked - 'Irked' (Genre: Punk Rock)
🇧🇷 Katástrofe - 'Terra Sombria' (Genre: Thrash Metal)
🇯🇵 Loyal to the Grave - 'Rectitude' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇺🇸 Mechanistic Butchery - 'Post-Human Putridity' (Genre: Grindcore, Cybergrind)
🇨🇦 MLRiffage - 'Bleak II' (Genre: Death Thrash)
🇺🇸 Night Sins - 'A Silver Blade in the Shadow' (Genre: Gothic Rock, Darkwave)
🇯🇵 Nothing's Carved in Stone - 'Brightness' (Genre: J-Rock, Alt Rock)
🇩🇰 Omsorg - 'Echoes' (Genre: Post-Hardcore)
🇩🇰 Pretext - 'Force the Hand of Fate' (Genre: Hard Rock, Heavy Metal)
🇺🇸 Psithurism - 'A Dead Sun' (Genre: Metalcore, Deathcore)
🇯🇵 Purple Hell - 'Asthenia Soul 灵​魂​病​症' (Genre: Melodic Death Metal, Metalcore)
🇬🇧 Queen Laya - 'Queen Laya' (Genre: Alt Rock)
🇨🇭 ReDraw - 'The Party' (Genre: Thrash Metal)
🇺🇸 Soften the Glare - 'EP III' (Genre: Prog Rock)
🇪🇸 Sons of Cult - 'Desolation' (Genre: Heavy Metal, Hard Rock)
🇺🇸 Stylogaster - 'Keepsake' (Genre: Slowcore)
🇺🇸 Vanquishment - 'Dogfights' (Genre: Melodic Black Metal)
🇺🇸 Virologist - 'Ameliorating Vicissitudes' (Genre: Brutal Death Metal)
🇺🇦 Wallflower - 'The Place Where I Feel Free' (Genre: Hardcore Punk)
🇺🇸 We're All Wrong - 'Leerer' (Genre: Prog Metalcore)
New Cover Albums:
🇨🇦 Arkells - 'Disco Loadout' (Genre: Alt Rock)
🇺🇸 Slash - 'Orgy of the Damned' (Genre: Hard Rock, Blues Rock)
Off to Detroit tomorrow for some live music! Cage The Elephant dropping this week, and thanks to concert week I got tickets for that also! Anyone you're seeing on the list this week?
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Happy Listening!

I have a problem. I am addicted to knowledge. I believed in the myths of the 1989s and 90s. NBC said "The more you know..." One of my former attorneys told me that I am too smart for my own good. How funny is it that the people we give power over us are the ones we need to defend ourselves against. I stayed in a horrible marriage too long. I should have never married him the second time. That being said, I am grateful for the life I lived. The song says "I could have missed the pain, but I'd a had to miss the dance... it's MY life, and it's better left to chance.". I don't believe in chance or fate. I believe that we have a certain measure of control over our lives and we allow others to derail us. What we do about that impact is a choice. I choose to be the captain of my own vessel until the river runs dry. No lawyer, no judge, no man, and no institution will force me to do anything else that is not for my own good or for the good of my family. Everywhere I go, I am turned away. I sat in an ER having a reaction to spider bites. I drove myself to an ER 2 hours from home because the ER here said nothing was wrong. I did call the individual who should have driven me, but he could not leave work he said. Funny how quickly he runs to help a woman he thinks will inherit money some day. When I got to the ER, I could barely breathe and had lost sensation in my hands and arm. I am not a doctor but know the difference between an ant bite and a venomous spider bite. And no, you don't feel a Brown Recluse bite. You will certainly feel a Black Widow bite IF bitten by an adult spider. Spiders are not insects, and if we are going to practice medicine, then we need to learn that yes, there is a difference between a 2, 4, or 6 leg creature and one with 8 or more legs. I was told there are no species of insects in this state that are poisonous. Well venom and poison are not the same thing and arthropods, arachnids, and serpents all have venomous species in this state. But if you really want to be technical about it, yes, there are poisonous insects in this state as well. Certain species of beetles have a coating on their exoskeleton that poison predators that eat them. I should sue that hospital, but when I try to do so, I am told constantly about statute of limitations. Well, that would be correct unless we are discussing a conspiracy. If even one party of a conspiracy is an employee of the business or government involved in the series of crimes which include a cover up of epic proportions, then the statute clock does not begin into the last probable occurrence of the group. Preventing someone from seeking legal counsel is the main reason statute of limitations cease to apply in all jurisdictions. Considering my 5g gateway I hold in my hand is alerting me that my IP address is being traced and altered, I am documenting that the time clock has not started ticking on this knowledge bomb. My confession here is that I have procrastinated in filing paperwork necessary to begin the next phase of my life. I don't intend to procrastinate, but it is something I cannot help. I have attention deficit disorder with hyperdiatractability. Oh yes, I thought you might bring that up. My ex-userband is a master manipulator when it comes to taking genuine disabilities and twisting them to fit his current need. Like using the multiple personality possibility to steal and then say it must have been one of the others living in my head. The truth is that I do have multiple entities dwelling within me. He is no longer living rent free in my head. And he of all people should have known better than to try to hurt me and my family. He knows good and well what I am capable of. Why in the hell would he or any of my close degree relatives even think about throwing me to the wolves? Think about that for a minute. He says I am unstable. He says I am dangerous. He says I am a genius. My doctor has said he fears for the world if I ever have a breakdown. Lol. A weapon of mass destruction? Come on you idiots. I am not a villain. And the AI shit can create crap about Darth Vader being a good guy and laugh all they want. I don't blackmail people or take money in romance schemes. What are you talking about now? I am talking about the tangled web we mortals weave that is host to a very dangerous arachnid. I don't know how to write code or do math. I don't know anything about the occult arts nor do I need to. I believe in one philosophy that you should read about a cave. The allegory in which we wage war with ourselves and have to ultimately decide to be or not to be. So why would anyone who knows me choose to strike against me? That would be me. They did not betray me. I stepped in front of them myself to make myself the target. There's your confession my dears. Clueless? Still don't know what the hell I am talking about? Let me ask you a question about something I observed once. Do you know what a dead ringer is ? How many kids do you see in the yard playing horseshoes or volleyball or hopscotch or anything? How are the enrollment numbers for youth sports in your area? How many 4-H clubs exhibit in your local fair? What is the pH level in the community pool? So if you can't make a profit from it, then it is something that should be eliminated or monetized? Well I guess I am the idiot here. I actually don't think like that. I would rather have a generation of healthy children who learn morals and ethics than to be a billionaire. Ever watched the movie Congo? Yeah, I am that level of crazy. You think I care about the money? I will not hesitate to burn every dollar I could possibly ever own to stop the children from being hurt by us. You want the truth? You can't handle the truth. Because the truth is that I am a good woman who loves very deeply and cares about people regardless of ethnicity or national origin. And that pisses people off like nothing else will. And that is the absolute truth. You didn't earn any right to be born in a free country any more than a child born in the deepest jungles of an unpronounceable country did anything wrong to be porn into starvation. You are no better than that person. So call me what you want to call me. But if I were you, I would not call me at all. Go ahead and tell me more about what I can and cannot do. Because the entire time you are busy searching for the next thing you can find online about me, the less time you are handling your own affairs and that allows the chance for something to invade your life. One. One chance. That's all I needed. Your motion for mercy has been denied. Well thank you for your consideration. Have a good day. Oh, and one more thing, how do you feel about NPR? Are those radio waves still available for broadcast? Or would you like to sell those to private investors as well? One chance. Lord give me one chance for a fair fight. You are not going to get me to do something that gives you the chance to shoot me or arrest me unless you intend to do so in a public place such as the private property you call county land, aka, my front porch. And the next time that happens, please allow me to call my father instead of unlocking my phone to call the ex-husband using my own device that you somehow unlocked using the passcode. And that was the one you actually needed, sir. How ironic that you gave that gateway to the man who broke it beyond repair. You did that. I'm done with money. I'm done with the man. And I am done trying to prove myself. Charge me now with whatever you think you have or make sure everyone connected to your organization ends all active tracking of us. I don't need a phone or any piece of paper to make my case. That's where you and whomever snatches my device to transfer shit doesn't understand. Yahoo! Yippee kai yah mother fuckers. Pass it on around. You want to go one more round? Or do you want to run? I'm not using Google on my train. I'm on my bridge. I'm using free tokens. I'm not doing anything more than playing a game using cartoon characters. And those Xs are beacons using analytics for the trackers to pinpoint the ones who joined the conspiracy against us. Just because you logged me out and changed my information to your information doesn't work. I asked you to give it back. You ignored me. Fine. Keep it. You want to be famous and rich beyond your wildest dreams? Be my guest, but don't say I didn't warn you what would happen. I can't stop it. I didn't start it. Rufus=the time traveler with a phone booth. James=King James. Travis=country music singer. Don=American Pie. Jerry=Maguire. Tom=Hanks. Bridge=the bifrost. And you can waste your time trying to figure it out but you will never do so. Because there is no "it ". Lmao. Hell yeah. The multiverse is full on all servers. Damn. Looks like I'm not as crazy as you made me out to be. All freaking servers on the Dark Web that bridges the US and Japan are full. Not one vacancy to let me play my game. Wow. I wonder how many of these players are from within the same state as me. Why do so many of you keep running up to St. Louis? That's not the geoblock zone anymore. You better get outside the continental US and any outlying territories if you want to be on the real web. The former president said it would crash harder than it did in 1929 if he was not elected. Wtf is that supposed to mean? Damn let me get a history book and look that up. Maybe it hasn't changed yet. But let me warn you about time travel. If anyone ever tells you to write an email to yourself in the future, call Interpol and file a report. That's a violation of international law. And it will get you on the list even if it is an assignment. Bet I don't do that again. Gee, Roger. You made me an international fugitive for that assignment. Wish I knew who to call for help on that one. Damn. Never trust anyone who is so well organized to guide your future. You never know what to expect from the shock waves. I opened the damn email on June 3, 2020. The day I died. How ironic. I wonder what would have happened if I had not received that email. Scary. But back to the spider bites...I didn't get help from that ER either. I ended up buying a knife and an onion. Actually I ordered Arby's, used the onion off my sandwich, and the knife to open my horsey sauce. I put the onion on my hand, wrapped it using the plastic from the knife, and several days later, the venom had drained from my hand enough that the swelling in my feet was going down and my blood pressure was returning to normal. Baby black widows don't have the kick mama does, but they are 1,000 times more deadly because they don't know how much of their spit to stick in you. And your earlobe and nostril don't have a pulse in them, by the way. So keep on bullshitting with the fake crap. If you have insurance for something highly unlikely to occur prior to the occurrence, doesn't that mean that you have a sixth sense and can predict the volcanic eruption that spewed counterfeit currency all over the state without a volcano? 💩♾️😱 Damn girl, just shut up and let them have it. I tried that. They keep trying to send it back to me when they can't make it work. It is never going to work again because you idiots changed everything so much that it can't be fixed. And that is all I am going to say about it ever because you don't want help. You want someone to do it for you so you can blame that person when it fails and cut them out when it succeeds. No. There's no solution. I'm not sure if you even know there's a problem. You will. But don't ask anyone for help when you do figure out how bad things already are. I am disinclined to aquiese to your request on grounds of I don't give a damn. Haha. What else do you want me to confess to for you to add to that admission you started in 2020? That's so funny that I forgot to laugh. I wonder how bullshit sounds in Morse code pinging on nft relays from me to you. Oh yeah. Well here's your tip for the day, big guy. You are not a good person. You are a bully. And some day, someone will knock you off that horse and when you land in shit just like me, I hope someone hands you hand sanitizer and a baby wipe. 😘

About six months ago, in November, I started my journey through the "Chronicles of Chrestomanci," which of course are not really a series as much as a collection of books which all take place in the same set of universes. I read everything in order of publication, posting my thoughts here each time, and with the completion of this book I am now all the way through these wonderful novels. Please forgive my lack of direct quotes this time--having read nothing else for fun besides these books for six months, I found my note-taking capacity to be somewhat diminished. Maybe in the future I'll write a more detailed review.
The Pinhoe Egg is the final Chrestomanci book, whether you're reading them in order of publication or chronologically. I have no doubt Diana Wynne Jones did not intend this to be a "series" with a beginning and end; rather, I assume she simply got several book ideas that took place in this world, and this happened to be the last time before she died. It is sheer luck, then, that this last book is a sort of grand culmination of them both thematically and narratively, and possibly the best of the lot.
We start, typically, with a new protagonist, Marianne Pinhoe, and a new locale, the small rural village of Ulverscote, located a stone's throw from Chrestomanci Castle and Helm St. Mary. I liked that we got a little more background about this area throughout the book. When I go back to reread Charmed Life, I'm looking forward to putting it all into this new context.
Marianne became a favorite character almost instantly, and I was hooked on her storyline right from the beginning. Jones has a typically virtuosic opening sequence, wasting no time in establishing the key characters and launching into a dreadfully funny episode telling of Marianne's grandmother (who is also a kind of matriarch or "Gammer" over all the Pinhoes) apparently abruptly developing dementia and being forcibly removed from her home. There is black comedy galore here, all painfully adjacent to the real experience of making arrangements for a feeble or senile parent, as when Gammer is so averse to leaving her home that she roots herself in the bed, complete with actual roots. Meanwhile, Gammer's brothers and many children squabble over who gets to live in her house and where her belongings will go.
I mentioned before how Jones is always surprising me with the variety of formal structures and writing styles she employs. I thought I had figured out her game here, and was sure it was going to be similar to Conrad's Fate, where a new protagonist gradually makes their way into meeting familiar characters. But of course, Jones neatly sidesteps all reader expectation and switches tracks suddenly a few chapters in, focusing on Cat Chant as a second, equal protagonist, and revealing this book to be, among other things, the true sequel to Charmed Life--published 29 real-life years later. Jones then begins alternating between Cat and Marianne unevenly, and sometimes even from sentence to sentence, as in Witch Week. Her sleight of hand is sly and clever, and the craftsmanship is remarkable. Hats off--each of the seven books in this series reads totally differently. Jack of all trades, master of all, our Diana.
Jones stacks on the themes this time. We of course get some of her usual preoccupations, particularly with that of unreliable families. The Pinhoes may be the worst of the lot, or at least the most upsetting, because while in most of the other books the dysfunction is obvious, things are more insidious here. The reader is actually led (through Marianne's obedient, rule-following perspective) to see Harry, Cecily, Gammer, and most of the uncles and aunts as well-meaning individuals who care for one another. However, as in Charmed Life (and Cat himself draws the comparison), as the book goes on and Marianne becomes more independent, it becomes increasingly difficult for her, and for us, to justify their cruel behavior. It is genuinely devastating when Marianne figures out what's going on halfway through the book, decides to approach the adults in her life about it, and is laughed off or outright punished by all of them. There is a familiar scene at the end of the book: Marianne's and Joe's talents are vindicated by Chrestomanci and they are given the opportunity to nurture their skills in an education apart from parents who hold them back by refusing to understand or accept them. Replace the current Chrestomanci with the previous acting Chrestomanci, Gabriel de Witt, and you have the same scene as the end of Conrad's Fate. The detail that Marianne and Joe still go home and see their parents regularly is brutally realistic, Marianne able to convince her mother to soften on some issues, but ultimately failing to truly connect with her father. This seems to me the ultimate conclusion of the obsession with family dynamics in the Chronicles of Chrestomanci--that your family will always be there, like them or not, whether or not a true understanding can ever be reached. I'm not ashamed to say I cried through the last couple chapters of the book, and found the first line Jones has written that made me audibly sob. This was a feeling from childhood I didn't even know I had forgotten:

[Marianne] was depressed and worried. Dad was never going to understand and never going to forgive her. And Gaffer had still not turned up. On top of that, school started on Monday week. Though look on the bright side, she thought. It'll keep me away from my family, during the daytime at least.

As in Conrad's Fate, the potential toxicity of religion crops up here, in a bigger way than ever. The last act of the book is barely disguised by its magical trappings: what we have here is a group of devout, religious conservatives, being shown the harmful effects of their actions, and blindly rejecting all of the proof and logic in front of them in favor of enforcing rules and laws that keep them comfortable. There is no doubt that the next generation of Pinhoes will be just as subject to the old traditions, in spite of Marianne and Joe breaking free. That the Reverend Pinhoe is portrayed as a hapless and kind man, ignorant to most of the wrongdoing in the village, does little to soften the point of Jones's pencil here. As I said, I was startled by how moved and devastated I was by this final section, recognizing all of the real-world pain in this fantastical setting.
Jones has always been steadfastly protective of those who cannot speak up for themselves, as with the character of Cat who finds it difficult to recognize and verbalize his feelings. This time, borrowing from a kind of Shinto animism, Jones includes the concept of Dwimmer, a magic that is focused on the life force within all creatures and plants. There is no debate where Jones stands on this--her deepest and most profound sympathies lie with Cat, who can't bear to imagine his horse Syracuse chopped into dog meat, who frets over Klartch's wellbeing when out of his sight, and who firmly refuses to apologize for releasing all the goblinlike fairy folk from their bindings. There is no direct intimation of endangered species, global warming, or human-caused environmental destruction in this book, as you might expect in this kind of setup (I suspect Jones was too clever to resort to trite metaphors). However, in a fascinating twist, a plot detail revolves around the Pinhoes and Farleighs erecting a barrier in the forest to contain the magical creatures, making the forest feel empty and incomplete in the process--a magical, but also literal, instance of deforestation. Motives of plants, herbs, and trees, both good and evil, carry through the book as well. Jason and Gaffer Elijah Pinhoe, as well as Cecily, are handy with plants and tend large gardens. The Farleighs' and Pinhoes' spells tend to take the form of small bags of weeds and branches as well. Interestingly, and insightfully, the natural world is portrayed as difficult as well: Gammer grows roots to impede her family's mission, and the vile Gaffer Farleigh morphs into a stubborn, gnarled, immovable petrified oak when Cat works a spell forcing him to assume his true form.
This was one of the most enjoyable books in the Chrestomanci series, and it was bittersweet to close the door on the Pinhoes. I like that the continuity between these books is vague and tenuous, so I'm free to imagine all sort of side goings-on, like what might happen to Marianne and Cat later in life, or whether Conrad and Christopher remained friends, or what Roger and Julia thought when their dad told them all about the events at the academy in Witch Week. Howl's Moving Castle is still the book closest to my heart, and will forever be the Diana Wynne Jones I read over and over, recommending to anyone unfortunate enough to strike up a conversation about books with me, but I am so glad that I found the time to welcome Chrestomanci and all his strange acquaintances into my heart, too.
Here's my personal ranking of the Chronicles of Chrestomanci, but please note I love all of these books and a low ranking does not mean I don't like the book. I have to put that there because there's always someone who doesn't understand that last place doesn't mean bad or worst. I'm not including the short stories individually because it's impossible for me to weigh a short story against a novel, whereas a large collection seems to make sense to me. I also must admit that the top three, especially the top two, were really difficult to place and I more or less love them equally.

1. Conrad's Fate
2. The Pinhoe Egg
3. Charmed Life
4. Mixed Magics
5. The Magicians of Caprona
6. Witch Week
7. The Lives of Christopher Chant

My next Jones book will be -- drumroll, please -- Archer's Goon, though I'm taking a break for some adult reading during the summer. While I'm in a school semester I can pretty much only manage to read children's fantasy, so I'll see you all come August or September. :) Thanks to those of you who have been reading and following my journey from start to finish. I would love to chat more about this book and this series.
Oh, and finally... ALL SPOILERS ALLOWED!

Pathological Jealousy from a Forensic Psychiatric Perspective
https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/advances-in-psychiatric-treatment/article/aspects-of-morbid-jealousy/06CBB7BF78CC43C785AE6F7C0F0046C9
The fear of loss and hyperfocus on the fear of loss seems to be behind a lot of the behavior to do with jealousy.
"The threat of losing a partner is expressed cognitively, emotionally and behaviorally. At the beginning the dominant component is emotional, related to a threat of a personal loss (of a partner, relationship, plans, life, stability), negative attitude towards a rival, as well as a partner, the feeling of injustice and loneliness."
Anger at the fear of loss begins to emerge.
"According to Zywucka-Kozlowska and Wlodarcyzk, jealousy is an anger, occurring on certain circumstances, based on two elements; emotions and situations. Emotions arise from the construction of human psyche, while situation arises from conditionings of the external world. Jealousy understood as an emotion is based on the insecurity towards own self-worthiness as a person as well as own attractiveness (including sexual attractiveness) for the partner."
The anger motivates the aggression to mitigate the risk of fear of loss
"Change in a way of perceiving a threat of losing a valued partnership (hypothesis, suspicion, interpretation) in favor of a real or imaginary rival who would enter an emotional relationship with a partner. It is accompanied by a mixture of various interpretations of the partner's behaviors as well as those of the rival, which generate anxiety and incline a jealous person to search for evidence of infidelity or to actions aiming at prevention of potential infidelity. The jealous person accumulates sorrow, anger, hatred, bitterness, which can epitomize in accusations towards an erotic partner."
Feelings of inefficiency and inability to satisfy cause a sense of fundamental insufficiency that begins the anger that evokes jealousy
"Factors often listed as contributing to evoking jealousy in men are as follows: erectile dysfunction, a feeling of inability to satisfy a partner's sexual desires, decrease of women's sexual drive, differences in attractiveness of partners, experience of an actual infidelity in the past, feeling of inefficiency to fulfill social roles, or psychopathological disorders expressed by alcohol abuse, personality disorders and delusional syndrome."
Putting the cart before the horse of accusations freaking out the accuser is seen, causing more anxiety as there is no good way to respond to an irrational delusion.
"Simultaneously, suspicion and distrust towards the partner and other people grow, then imaginary accusations and convictions appear. Consequently, these convictions intensify the fear, fury and further anxiety which additionally increases the amount of false judgements."
They also show inability to control jealous thoughts
"Infidelity, however, are not able to suppress the key psychic aspect of their jealousy, namely intrusive thoughts about infidelity, which they cannot control. Jealousy in its overvalued idea takes on a form of a dominant thought, however, a jealous person does not have assumptions of the intensity of delusions."
This shows jealous behavior is linked to obsessive compulsive disorder, which is linked to fear of loss. Only its aggressive instantiation is linked to jealous behavior though.
Anger at the fear of loss increases stress which makes the brain's delusions more aggressive as happens whenever the brain is infused with excess cortisol.
"It is necessary for a person to display anxiety, fear of losing a partner or his or her position in the partnership, which should evoke stress and interfere with function of the jealous person, both people, or partnership."
Invasion of private areas of an individual's processing is a key signs of jealousy, as is the aggressive imposition of humiliating the partner to "get back" for their delusions where they were humiliated which never occurred
"Typical behaviors accompanying delusional jealousy include: multiple accusations about infidelity without sufficient evidence, demands for assertions or imposing of pledging faithfulness, humiliating and controlling partner's behaviors as well as demanding information concerning thoughts, views, and fantasies."
Overvaluation of the delusional idea also includes overreading of the facial expression for "signs" of confirmation. Hyperfixation on sentiment analysis may belie a deeper delusion behind the person hyperfixated.
"The so-called delusional activity comes down to realizing powerfully expressed need of control in form of various ways of manipulating, deceiving, searching for personal belongings, listening in telephone calls, and controlling correspondences. Emotions present at that time such as anger, sorrow, pain humiliation, fear and contradicting desired lead to increasing search for eventual evidence of infidelity, which could not be found, which in turn make neutral behavior acquire characteristics of these evidences."
Insatiability is seen on the jealous, showing extremes of violation to satisfy a delusional possessiveness, all the more disturbing when there is no actual partnership. The insatiability belies the psychotic instantiation
"A greater integrity of partnership, however, this lasts only a certain time. Usually, there comes a moment when a partner is not able to fulfill the expectations of a jealous person because it is infeasible. Attempts at leaving the above described constellation by one of the partners turn into an embers of anxiety, fear and evoke suspicion of disloyalty, to the pathological extent."
Schizophrenia, depression, substance use and OCD are all seen on those with pathological jealousy.
"On the other hand, Singh et al. indicated that the most common diagnoses related to morbid jealousy were schizophrenia (34%), depression (30%) and substance abuse (20%) jealousy with morbid intensity occurred also in bipolar affective disorder (6%) and other mental disorders. 10%-obsessive-compulsive disorder."
Expectation of reward and aggressive dopamine shunting as an irregularity were seen in these brains, linking jealousy to envy circuitry.
In confirmation of this, jealousy showed signs of behaving just like an addiction, trying to get a higher hit. Addiction is not logic, it creates rationalization.
"In respect to women, intensity of jealousy negatively correlated with the length of a relationship, and positively with the intensifying symptoms of an addiction."
False reception of various actions are treated as real, and memories are reinterpreted (and thus reconstructed) as pathological, leading to a strong emotional charge. Basically, reading neutral information wrong as often seen on the jealous leads to the anger that leads to fear of loss, and the stress that creates delusion.
"In delusional disorders focusing on a partner's infidelity, jealous people treat their false reception of various actions as real and intensify it by pathological interpretation of memories which are in turn strengthened by strong emotional charge. By doing this, quasi-logical systems of jealousy are created. They constantly accuse a partner of infidelity and stubbornly attempt to validate their suspicions by delusional activity. Sometimes, "interrogations" can take a form of tortures, and inspections are not limited to checking possessions, but also involve partner himself (including genitalia)."
Delusions of humiliation seem to be psychotic expressions of fear of loss, the fear of having lost while acting like one has not.
"It seems that in the case of people with increased levels of jealousy, situations when they feel moral pain associated with a false conviction that the environment knows about a partner's infidelity, can be especially painful. Situations n which they feel threatened, associate with a possibility of infidelity, disloyalty, embarrassment or humiliation (imaginary or real) weaken their self-control. Most often, there is a chronic situation of mental burden and increasingly growing tension."
Highly suspicious hostility leads to anxiety and negative attitudes towards other people.
"They are highly suspicious, which is expressed by hostility towards the environment, caution towards people, which leads to experiencing anxiety and negative attitudes towards other people."
Emotional-delusional explains a lot of the general type of rationalization, denial, and cart before the horse thinking seen on the jealous person.
"Przybylek at al.[30] drew similar conclusions and stated that in the group of emotional-delusional murderers there are perpetrators who, apart from delusional aspect, are motivated by revenge, feeling of injustice or feelings of insecurity and fear, which additionally weakens their ability to control their actions while committing a crime."
People with delusional jealousy often struggle to see their own jealousy or envy, showing again the denial element of the psychotic behavior witnessed. Lowered level of sense of illness (not admitting they have a problem) is a well known sign of an extremely high risk person for committing violence.
"Usually crimes motivated by jealousy are associated with a chronic psychotic process which is concentrated on a partner, a suspected rival, or other people who 'assist' infidelity. People with delusional jealousy have also a very low level of criticism towards own convictions. A lowered level of illness insight is a well-known factor of aggression risk, which should cause expert witnesses to balanced assessment in terms of the necessity of using security measures."

This comes from Cults and Nonconventional Religious Groups: A Collection of Outstanding Dissertations and Monographs, "Nichiren Shoshu Buddhism and the Soka Gakkai in America: The Ethos of a New Religious Movement", Jane Hurst, 1992, pp. 144-150.

The years from 1966 to 1976 were the time of NSA's (former name of SGI-USA) greatest growth and most fervent activity.

Just a 10-year period.

During the years of NSA's greatest growth, from 1966-1976, the major events listed [not shown here] drew NSA members together for mass meetings and large public culture presentations. At the same time shakubuku campaigns were taking place, parades were given in many local areas, and community centers were opening all over America in urban centers. Membership was steadily increasing according to NSA statistics shown in the next figure.

Here it is: Figure 12 See that trend line? We're about to get to that.

What is interesting about these statistics is how important they are to NSA's self-understanding as a dynamic, growing movement.

It's always been about the numbers. The Dead-Ikeda cults have always focused on the numbers - and the bigger, the BETTER! - to show their strength and appeal. They also have consistently preached that eeeeverybody wants what THEY have, which appeals to the SGI members' vanity, sense of superiority, and desire to be involved in something popular, vibrant, and winning, in other words. In advertising, this is a form of the "bandwagon approach".

Painful memories of many leadership mtgs setting targets for freaking everything… shabuku, publications, attendance, contribution,youth and beating the dead horse of membership list to make it happen and it didn’t. Source

They are not entirely based in fact. It is likely that they include all members who have received the Gohonzon in a gojukai ceremony at any time. It does not estimate how many of these are now practicing members.

That is how Ikeda described the Soka Gakkai in Japan's methodology for counting its membership:

Interview published on "Gendai" magazine, April 1980
Ikeda: The official membership figure of 7.89 million households refers to the cumulative sum of the Gohonzon issued by the Head Temple. It does not mean that that number of people are all practicing today.
Interviewer: So the official stats account for the entries but not the exits. Sounds like this is math that only keeps adding and never subtracts?

Ikeda: That is correct. It's the sum total of shakubuku's. The people who passed away or quit are also included. It is impossible to identify the true membership figure. Source

With a very predictable result:

They'd brag about the increasing numbers (I hated all that statistics bs) but the meetings never grew in size because just as many people were disappearing from the organization lol. Source

Many Christian churches compile statistics in the same way, counting all baptized members as members, whether active or not.

This is one reason the numbers of Christians in the US tend to be way overestimated - Americans are pretty mobile, and the same Christian can end up being counted as a member by half a dozen churches. Same thing happened in SGI-USA:

Omg I remember those card exercises and the district box. As a leader doing stats & finding out I had a member card in every district that I had attended as a leader. All the multiple counting. So when the MIS database was installed that’s when the reality of double and triple listings was exposed. I forgot the year that “friends of sgi” were deleted from the database causing another dramatic drop in membership. The guest list created a nightmare and youth in charge were turned into liars…supposedly these new youth were joining but nohonzons were not given it was a based on a confirmation from the guest. The majority of the guests figured out just say “yes” to get the leader who called on behalf of their friend, off the phone. A lot of friendships ruined. So what happened next, no guests at meetings, attendees are all leaders who had no guests. And whenever a guest did attend they were coveted by Everyone at the mtg. Those member card boxes are still sitting under someone’s altar because they represent a “precious life” gagging Source
I believe the SGI does whatever necessary to make it appear that there are more members than there actually are. No big surprise. But quite frankly, I was very surprised this district leader gave me a list that had to have been at least 30 years old with names of people who were either deceased, moved away, were no longer practicing or were a guest at one point.
One more thing: I lived in Boston more than 10 years ago and I practiced with a particular district very briefly. I doubt I went to more than 2 or 3 meetings. Anyhow, they still send me emails for meetings with the addresses and phone numbers of other members. Source
In 2017 I found people who have been dead for more than 10 years. They were on the list of non-active soka members. However, their number contributed to the total number of members. Source

In any case, Figure 12 shows the membership as NSA sees it. A better estimate of active members is based on the number of World Tribune subscriptions. According to them, there are around 50,000 subscribers in early 1992. If one counts 1-2 members per household, there are probably between 50,000 and 100,000 active members of NSA at this time.

Even those relatively low numbers are overstated - here's an account that shows why/how:

During the NSA days I remember being at a world tribune turn in until 2am… why because my district had a target of 48 and we only had 20 members. I was a relatively new leader in training and I kept asking who set this target and how do you get blood from a stone. We sat and kept reviewing and recalculating…finally it was suggested that we split the cost this one time. Because we made the target the following month the target was raised. This went on from 1987 until 1990 when ikeda came to US and name change. So a few years ago everyone was encouraged to “gift” publications to their friends and family members with the hope they would become members. That fell apart in so many ways. The recipients never renewed and many reports were received about the unwanted publications via post office lol. Now in order to receive gohonzon the new person has to subscribe to the publications. Sgi is so desperate to show rising membership but the truth is the discussion meeting and publications numbers are steadily decreasing. At the monthly zone planning board mtg these stats are presented. So a district may have 54 members but only 8 attend the monthly meetings and only 4 of them get the publications. Numbers don’t lie. Source

2014's annual goal for SGI-USA was to raise the subscriptions numbers from 36,500 to 50,000. That was the entire SGI-USA organization's goal for the entire country in 2014.

External sources are no help in making this estimate. The 1992 World Almanac and Book of Facts, citing the 1991 Yearbook of American and Canadian Churches, says that in 1989 there were 100,000 Buddhists in the United States, and in 1990 there were 19,000. Clearly improved demographics are called for.

I'd say so!
First-and-longtime SGI-USA General Director Mr. Williams earned a MA in Political Science from the University of Maryland in 1962 (unlike Ikeda, who bought up "honorary" degrees like they were party favors - using the sincere SGI members' donations "for kosen-rufu" to make himself feel better about being an uneducated buffoon), and he seemed to have learned the value in announcing LARGE membership numbers. In fact, it was his habit of proclaiming outrageously-large membership numbers that gained SGI-USA (then NSA) lots of free publicity in the form of news pieces about "The FASTEST GROWING Religion In The USA!" and suchlike.

"Just how many Gakkai members currently exist throughout the entire country presents a very interesting problem. In the 1980's, the current SGI-USA General Director Emeritus George Williams claimed a membership of 500,000 and a World Tribune subscription base of 100,000. However, it is a certainty that today in 1994, there are 20,000 World Tribune subscriptions. This is a surprising decrease. Furthermore, Vice-General Director McCloskey tells the mass media that the SGI-USA has 350,000 believers, but recently, he admitted to a certain group of people that the actual number of members is close to 20,000, the same number as World Tribune subscriptions." Source

The trend line on Figure 10, above, tops out at the "500,000" mark, a pipe dream if there ever was one. The last big "culture festival" planned for SGI-USA during the Mr. Williams era was supposed to be a gathering of 100,000 in the New Orleans Superdome for 1990; that was canceled for no reason. Oh, sure, they said "Unfortunately, New Orleans doesn't have the infrastructure to handle an influx of 100,000 tourists!" Bullcrap. It was FAR more likely that someone realized that SGI-USA didn't HAVE 100,000 members:

I think I remember talk about that 1990 convention, but it fizzled out one day.
Even at the time, I knew that the Superdome idea was an absurd over-reach. It wasn’t that many years after the Guru Mahara-Ji failed to fill the Astrodome with followers, and I anticipated a similar humiliating debacle. Today, I suspect actual membership is around 30,000, mostly boomers, and declining. I have no idea how any roughly sane person could think that they can conjure up 100,000 youth, unless maybe they pay them like movie extras. Source