Me (f17) and my best friend (m17) have been friends for almost 4 years, ever sinxe high school started. We've had some ups and downs and stretches of time where we don't really communicate (winter depression on both sides).
Around the beginning of the year in 2023, my best friend started talking to this girl in his class, they hit it off pretty well and became friends. Two months later they started dating and i met her for the first time. She was cool and all, i didn't have any problems with her. I didn't see her often simply because she lived in a different city to ours.
About a month after they started dating, my best friend wanted to introduce his girlfriend to our friendgroup, because she didn't have too many close friends, and our friendgroup was tight (at that point we'd been friends for 2 years). It went super well, she didn't clash with anyone, and she seemed like a genuinely nice and good person.
A couple weeks later, the girlfriend and i started hanging out alone, because we had a lot of similar interests and i wanted to truly be her friend (up until then i only really saw her as my bestfriend's girlfriend). We had a couple sleepovers and we hung out a couple times too.
Near august 2023 they started having relationship problems, the girlfriend would always vent to me afterwards about how she was the one doing all the work and how my bestfriend never put in any effort to make the relationship work... Etc etc
I usually heard her side of the story first, because she has Borderline Personality Disorder and she relied on me a lot when she was having episodes/splitting. Of course i did my best to comfort her and try to help her in any way i could, but it always seemed like she was exaggerating her experience. (I never dated my bestfriend so obviously he could have treated her much different than he ever treated me, and i 100% knew that, and always kept this in mind when talking to either of them)
After, my bestfriend would usually text me about their fights, and it always seemed like his version of events was more realistic and in tune with what i knew of both of them. (I could totally be biased tho, bc this was my best friend for 2 1/2 years vs a girl i barely considered a friend)
They kept having problems and it kept getting worse. Early febuary this year, they broke up, it was messy and i was caught in the middle of it playing mesenger man even though i kept telling them to talk their shit out and leave me out of their relationship issues.
I had basically been turned into the therapy friend, not only for the girlfriend but for my best friend too, and it really took a toll on me mentally and physically. The girlfriend was splitting everyday and threatened to kill herself many times but even when we told her parents they did nothing.
She was texting me every day with her problems and her feelings about their break up, even after i asked her to stop because i needed a break from all this stuff. (My mental health tends to get worse when the people around me are upset. Its also extremely draining when every time i checked my phone, there would be several texts just openly venting to me and waiting for my input/reply. It would have been easier on me if i didnt have to play therapist for her, but whenever she texted me she expected some wisdom or some comfort and it just got to be too much for me)
One day i remember her venting and she asked me for my honest opinion about this whole situation. I sent her a pretty long text (which i will100% admit was rude but idrc) where i stated that both of them were being dramatic (she kept spreading rumors about him, and he would always entertain her drama) and that she needed to either start taking my advice (she always asked for advice but never took it) or she needed to stop venting to me because i didnt care anymore.
She never replied to me, but later on instagram she had publicly posted my long text on her stories, with some bs caption like "its always the one you least expect" but she conviniently erased her text asking for my honest opinion.. which turned some of my friends against me until i could properly explain the situation. I texted her on instagram (she was online) and i went off on her for doing that because thats just shitty. If she had a problem with what i said she very much could have told me and we could have figured it out, but instead she chose to whine about it on a public platform and erase her text where she ASKED for my opinion...
We stopped beings friends and i blocked her. Me and my best friend started hanging out more and everything was fine until today. I got a text from my best friend basically stating that he spoke to her again after a month or so of no contact, and that they spent a long time talking and they're gonna try again. He also said he understood if i didnt want to be his friend anymore. I replied and said its fine/idc if youre friends/trying again with her as long as he doesnt talk about her to me or tries to bring her to group hangouts.
Idk, their relationship was really toxic (both sides) and me and my bestfriend haven't been as close as we were before they got together, even when they broke up it wasn't the same. I feel defeated because he knows what the girlfriend did to me and while it might not seem like a big deal it did basically ruin my friendships for a little while. I know that he has the right to hang out with her if he wants but i just don't feel comfortable with that anymore, i know the logical answer is to stop being friends but he's been my best friend for so long and i don't want to end this friendship on something thats probably stupid/doesnt matter anyway.
He's been my best friend for so long, the longest ive actually had a friend for (moved around a lot), and i feel like im being petty by giving up this friendship, but i genuinely do not want to be around this girl at all and i cant just ignore that theyre back together again...
(I do have other friends that arent associated with this friendgroup so its not like hes my only friend, but its not really the same)

Studied for 5 months to get my CISSP early April, took a week off then spent 75-100 hours over a month on the CISM.
Resources Used

1. Gwen's Review manual - 9/10: Just the right level of detail, good quiz questions. Would be a 10/10 if it had an index!
2. Pocket Prep app -8/10: Good for sneaking in questions throughout the day. Information was all correct, but format and level of detail we're quite the same as the live-fire test
3. QAE book version-superposition of 3/10 and 10/10: content was super targeted and closely resembled live fire text BUT the answers are printed in bold directly beneath the questions in a way that makes them difficult to avoid while reading options
4. All In One - 5/10: gave up on the book pretty much immediately, but the included Total Seminars test bank has 400ish solid questions presented in a quality format

Test Experience
I did the at-home version. Initial setup was annoying but not particularly difficult. Proctor reached out to me saying my camera had cut out at one point but within 15 seconds told me to resume without anything having changed. Powered through all questions in 90 minutes flagging about 10, changing a handful upon review.
Summary
Overall, very passable if you have the CISSP content fresh of mind. No idea what career impact it will have, but the extent of new material can be learned through Gwen's short manual and a read through of the QAE alone. Excuse any spelling/grammar issues, I'm on my 2nd celebratory margarita.

This is the first time I have written something of this length, and is more of an exercise in self-therapy than anything else. Disclaimer: This story contains conversations about child abuse. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it.
Nathan’s number appeared on my phone screen. I debated whether or not to answer it. We hadn’t been on speaking terms for a while, and while we did keep in touch sporadically, it was usually because of important family issues. I didn’t know of anything happening with mom or dad, nor with Talia or Rio, so I let it go to voicemail. I could always call him back later. I placed the phone back in my pocket, and returned to cleaning my camera. The phone buzzed again. A text message came through. I read the preview line from the home screen. “The city declared eminent domain on the house” I unlocked my phone, read the full text message, and dialed my brother.
I wasn't able to get any closer to the house than a few blocks. Most of the area was blocked off with chain link fencing and construction equipment in preparation for the demolition that was supposed to take place within the coming days. The barriers didn’t prevent people from walking in to the neighborhood, but it hindered scrappers from coming in and stripping the houses of copper wiring and plumbing.
I grabbed my camera bag out of the trunk of my car along with my tripod. I shouldered it and hooked the tripod to my bag. I pulled my water bottle out of the center console and shut the door. I stood next to my car surveying the neighborhood. 12 city blocks of old single family homes comprised the neighborhood where I grew up. Some of the houses had been empty for months, others for years. There was an eerie silence that permeated the still air. I could not hear the familiar sounds of people, pets, or cars. I locked the car and put my keys in my pocket. I patted my jacket down to ensure I had what I needed. After a quick check, I started my walk.
The sidewalk of the old neighborhood streets still bore the familiar cracks and grind marks from years of buckling and remedy. Leaves dropped by the trees still lay scattered all along the pathways and sidewalk. Korina’s house was the first house I encountered as I made my way through a gap in the fence. The yard was overgrown with tall grass and thistle. I could see the faded blue paint of the old house contrasting the green and browns of the lawn. The chain link fence that marked off the corner property was nearly invisible through the thick brush. As I continued walking west towards 110th, I started to feel something was off. The streets seemed wider than I remembered. It took me longer than I’d like to admit, but eventually I realized what was different. There were no cars.
The streets here typically had cars lined bumper to bumper in any spot available, and were visible from block to block. The absence of all these vehicles made me realize just how deserted the neighborhood really was. House after house, yard after yard, the telltale signs of desertion reinforced what I could see from the moment I passed the construction fence: This was no longer my neighborhood. There were no signs of life, and no one I could expect to find still here. Abandonment was the new normal here. I continued on, glancing at houses and recalling memories of summer bike rides, and daily walks with dogs I used to have. I remembered walks home from school, and chasing after ice cream trucks when they passed our houses. I smiled a bit as I remembered more and more of my years spent here. I don’t quite know just why I was smiling. There were plenty of bad memories here too. Fights, yelling, being beat up, being robbed. I could remember failed friendships, lost loves, and bitter feelings of failures too.
Still, I felt a certain amount of nostalgia despite the weight of these negative feelings. I almost wanted to experience everything again, although I wasn't sure why I was feeling this way. Concrete, asphalt, billboards and liquor stores were the normal vistas of everyday life. Occasionally, after a good rainstorm, the grey haze of smog would lift, and the mountains would be visible to the north. At least, they would be visible until mid-morning when the exhaust from a million cars covered them behind a veil of pollution.
It wasn’t until the first time I travelled out of the city that I realized there was more to see. Traveling up the coast north along the Pacific Coast Highway introduced me to scenes of deep blue ocean water spanning the width of my vision. Driving up Highway 3 introduced me to the permeating scent of Pine and Fir trees. The two-lane stretch of highway from Portland to Tillamook introduced me to lush green forests that I had only ever read about. When I came home to the same old dirty, dusty concrete and boiling summer asphalt, I had made up my mind. I would do everything it took to leave this place. I would not spend another day longer than was necessary living in cramped quarters and fighting for parking space.
I arrived to the house, and paused at the gate. The house sat in contrast of what the rest of the neighborhood looked like. Instead of overgrown grass and tall weeds all over the place, the landscaping showed signs of relatively recent work. The guava tree in the front lawn still had some fruit ready to be picked, and the avocado tree on the other side of the pathway was still weighed down by its own fruit. Flowers still bloomed in the raised bed in front of the house. My brother had clearly tried to keep up on things until the last possible moment. The house, too, looked better than what I expected after walking up 4 blocks and seeing nothing but dilapidated houses and unkempt yards. I opened the gate and walked up to the small porch. The metal gate that enclosed it was gone having been removed by my brother when he took over the property. It looked nice to see it open instead of the cage it once felt like.
I turned the knob on the door, but it didn't give. Ever a creature of habit, my brother had locked the door when he left. Of course, he did. I sighed and prepared to find another way in when I remembered my parents hiding a spare key. I wasn’t sure if it would still be there, but after running my hands along the back side of the gutter downspout, I was rewarded for my efforts. I unlocked the front door and stepped into the front living room, the sounds of my footsteps and the closing door echoing in the empty space. The room felt both larger and smaller than I remembered it. I suppose it was lack of furniture that made it feel larger, but it still felt smaller than I remember. The result of growing taller throughout the years I suppose. I slowly walked along the slate tile floor towards the central hallway that connected the front of the house to the back bedrooms. I wasn't entirely sure that just because the front door was locked, that there wasn't some squatter looking for a little temporary shelter within the back rooms. I carefully and silently crept step by step towards what used to be the bedroom shared by my sister and me. I stuck my head in and gave the room a cursory glance. It was empty, thankfully. I moved back into the hallway and peered into the bedroom across the hall. This is where both of my brothers had shared a room. It too, was empty save for a few boxes holding hardware and doorknobs from the closet doors of the bedroom. I walked back towards the back of the house where my parent's bedroom was. The walls in the hallway bore the dusty signs where picture once hung. The bedroom door was open. I stepped inside, and looked around. The old avocado paint that my mom had picked out years ago still adorned the walls. Walking further towards the addition that was the small room my grandma and grandpa lived in showed that there was no one here. I breathed a sigh of relief as I set my bag down and set up my tripod. I reached into my bag a pulled out an envelope of old photos. These were old snapshots that we had all taken at some point in time in the house. There were pictures of all of us sitting at the dining room table playing a game of Monopoly. There was a picture of my brother and sister sitting on a couch in the front living room. There was a picture of me hanging on the bars of the front porch. I looked through them all and held them in place in front of me as if I were holding a window to the past.
Each picture made the lump in my throat grow as I started to struggle to control my emotions. There was history here, and soon it would all be gone. This is the place where my parents had raised four kids. They had taken care of my grandparents in their twilight years here. My Aunt and my grandmother had both died in this house. Birthdays, graduation parties, and anniversaries had been celebrated here. The echoes of life had reverberated within the walls of this place. Now, the house sat silent. It would never again know happy screams of kids having a water-balloon war out in the front yard, nor would it hear the cries of anguish as the matriarch of the family passed away surrounded by her family. What once was a home full of life was now just an empty house made of drywall and paint. I sat there for a moment contemplating just how much family history was actually made here. As I thought hard about my siblings and my parents, I felt pained at the thought of our strained relationships. We had all scattered once we had the opportunity to be free of each other. My oldest brother had married and moved away as soon as possible. My sister now lived in northern California. My parents too had moved away. I was now living in Utah. Only my older brother had remained behind. The lump grew larger in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I held back sobs of anger and pain. Why was I hurting? Hadn’t I dealt with these issues already? I walked back to my old bedroom and sat down under the window. I pulled my head down into my knees and cried. I could hear yelling and screaming in my head. Shouting matches between siblings and parents, brothers and sister, rattled inside my brain, making the pain grow. I sat there and cried. I hadn’t cried like this in a long time. Eventually I ran out of tears and tired gasps of sorrow and regret washed over me as a blanket of drowsiness enveloped me. I leaned my head back and fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound of footsteps. It took me a moment to realize what I was hearing and hurriedly stood up. Had someone followed me? I knew the police were patrolling the area sporadically. Had they seen me enter the house? I knew there would be a possibility of getting a trespassing citation, but I figured I could either talk my way out of it seeing as to how I was a former resident, or I could probably fight the citation in court if the judge knew why I was there in the first place. Ultimately, passing through the gate had been a calculated risk that I was willing to take for the sake of my art. I got up from my corner of the room and moved towards the door. If there was someone in the house, I needed to know. I didn’t want my gear to stolen, and if there was a cop in the house, I wanted to ensure I didn’t get shot.
I was greeted by the sight of a startled chubby boy standing on the other side of the door. His round cherubic face was crowned by a head of short curly hair. His hazel green eyes stared widely back at me. He clearly didn’t expect someone to be here in the house. His body recoiled in fear as he cowered back towards the hallway. “Wait, what are you doing here?” I asked as non-threateningly as I could. The boy muttered something that I couldn’t quite make out. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you” I replied. “Are you here to rob us?” he timidly responded. “Rob you? What are you talking about?” I asked as confusion set in. “What are you doing here?” It was his turn to be confused. “Uh…I….live here?” he replied. “What do you mean you live here? No one lives-“I stopped midsentence. I hadn’t noticed in my initial shock but the room wasn’t the same. A familiar blue couch caught the corner of my eye. In front of that was an old console TV with a partially broken antenna hanging on the wall behind it. I walked further in to the living room to notice wood paneling on the walls. A large mirror hung on the wall to my left. Familiar yellow lamps sat on round drop-leaf tables on either side of the couch. A large hutch sat in one corner, a collection of letters and bills, mail advertisements, and a phone book covered scattered over it. “What just happened?” I asked out loud to no one in particular. I was thoroughly mystified by what my eyes were seeing. I had walked into the house from the front door and had stepped into an empty white room with slate floor tiles, but somehow now found myself in a furnished room with brown carpet that was all so familiar to me, yet was nothing but a distant faded memory. I turned to look at the boy still startled by the intrusion of a strange man looking wildly around the room in total shock.
“You can take what you want, just please let me go. I don’t want problems.” He stated his voice still shrill with anxiety. I blinked a few times as I tried to process just what the heck was going on. I gathered my thoughts as best I could and tried to reassure him. “Kid, I’m not here to rob anyone. I was just-“I shook my head “Where the hell am I? Am I having a dream?” I asked myself. “I must be dreaming. I’m just tired and still sleeping. This is all a dream. Yeah, that’s it.” I needed to sit down. Being back in the old house must have overtaxed my senses, I told myself. I’d having a dream about an old memory. I walked over to the chair next to the couch and sat down. I sunk into it and rested my head back towards the wall.
The boy kept his distance, but sensed I wasn’t there to hurt him. He looked me over with anxious curiosity. He stood at the far end of the couch, examining me while he played out scenarios in his head in preparation for a quick exit. “Why are you in my house?” he asked me. “Dude, this is all just a dream I’m having. I’m not really here.” He reached over to the couch and picked up a pillow. He reared his arm and threw it at me. It landed in my lap. “I don’t know, man. You sure seem to be here.” He said to me. I opened my eyes, startled. I looked down at the pillow he tossed and examined it. I ran my hand over the fabric and felt its texture. I remember this pillow. This was the pillow I would roll under my head as I lay on the couch and watched TV as a kid. A sudden realization hit me as I looked around the room with fresh eyes. No longer was I blinded by the fog of confusion. I knew exactly where I was.
I was home.
I looked at the boy still standing at the edge of the couch. I looked him over and realized who he actually was. I stared in disbelief as I smiled and tried to put him at ease. “It’s ok Johnny. I’m not here to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. Please, sit down” I told him. I motioned to his end of the couch. “Who are you, and why are you here?” he asked me.
“This will be hard to believe, but I’m you” I said with an incredulous tone, “I’m not sure how I ended up here, but I’m here.” He looked at me as I had grown a second head. “That doesn’t make any sense. How could you be me? Did we invent time travel? Oh! Are we secret government agents with the CIA?”
I chuckled. “Wait, wait, wait. Let’s start at the beginning. I’m you at 38 years old. You’re…what, 11… 12 years old? It makes sense. I fell asleep under the window in my- our old bedroom. I didn’t come here on purpose or in a machine. And no, I’m not a government agent.” His face contorted to display understanding, disappointment and finally suspicion. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards me. “How do I know you’re really me?” he asked. I thought about it for a moment. How could I prove to him that I was who I said I was? A few seconds of silence settled between us. I stroked my chin, thinking of a solution.
“I have a better idea. Ask me questions that only you know the answers to.” “Okay” he responded. He glanced around the room trying to come up with something. His eyes fixated on the Nintendo sitting under the TV cabinet. “What game do me and Nathan have a map of?” I looked over at the NES. I hadn’t thought about this for years, but I knew instantly what he was asking. “YOU don’t have anything. Nathan is the one that made the map for Section Z” His jaw dropped. He tried to trick me, but his plan failed. He knew well and good that Nathan never let him play. It was always ‘I’ll let you play when I die’ or, ‘you can play when I’m done’. The problem was that he never followed through. Usually by the time Nathan was done, the NES was overheated, and the game would no longer load until it cooled down. By that point, it was time for bed.
“How do you know that?” he asked in astonishment. “I know these things because I’m you. Just like I know that you wear t-shirts to the pool because you’re embarrassed by what others will think of your body. I know that you used to think that people that die off in movies were prisoners that were set to be executed from death row, so they used them for making movies. I know all about you because I’m you”
Johnny sat on the end of the couch in bewilderment, his mouth slightly agape. He had never told anyone any of this. He didn’t have any close friends to talk to about such things, and those friends he did have were more acquaintances than friends. There was only one way he could possibly know these things. He was talking to his future self.
I could see Johnny’s mind completely explode. There lay endless possibility and the answers to a million questions he could ask about his own future. He started to ask a question, only to stop, close his mouth, and try asking another. I knew if he kept this up he would have a stroke or something. “Dude, calm yourself. Let’s talk this out rationally, otherwise you’ll end up stroking out or something.” I told him. He took a deep breath and I could hear him muttering quietly. I knew he was trying to form a coherent sentence before he actually spoke it. I did it all the time. “Ok, first of all, are we rich?” he asked with tempered expectation. I chuckled and grinned back at him. “No, not at all. If I was rich, would I be dressed like this?” I replied as I motioned to my beat up brown Vans and worn out jeans and T-shirt. “We-, I – make enough to get by. I’m not poor, but I earn enough to pay the bills.” His face grew a smirk as he commented “Yeah, I figured. What do I do for work? I mean, what do you do for work?” I thought about it for a second. I wondered how much information I should divulge to a younger me. I still didn’t think this whole situation was really happening, but if it was, I probably should proceed with caution. “Well, it’s complicated. I do a little bit of everything. You know how you’re constantly taking things apart? Let’s just say that it’s good to put them back together in order to keep them working. Take good notes on paper if you need to, and make sure you have a clean work area so you can keep track of all the parts.” He gave me a sheepish look. He knew exactly what I was talking about. I had spent countless hours sneaking dad’s tools to my room so I could figure out how something was built and try to figure out how it worked. I had gotten myself into some pretty bad trouble with dad over a drill, his timing light, and other stuff I had taken from his room. His belt had become quite familiar with my butt cheeks.
I gave him a knowing smile. “What else do you want to know?” He thought about it for a second. “Do we have a girlfriend?” I laughed, probably a little more than I should have because his face contorted into a sour frown. “You don’t need to be a jerk about it” he scowled. I continued to chuckle. “Yeah we have a girlfriend. We have more than a girlfriend” I could tell he was irritated with my vague indirect answers. I knew what he was asking. I remember the crush I had on my neighbor across the street. We had been friends since kindergarten, and had been classmates for 1st, 2nd, and 4th grades. We got along really well, and I knew from around 12 or 13 that I wanted to be her boyfriend. Unfortunately, things never progressed beyond the ‘just friends’ stage of things. It wasn’t from lack of effort on my part. We had just grown up together most of our lives that she didn’t see me as anything more than a brother and friend. “Dude, look. You just started to go through changes and you are starting to notice girls, but that doesn’t mean that you need to love every girl that shows you a little kindness or subtle interest. You need to slow down and let things happen naturally. You can’t force a relationship with someone.” Johnny pondered these words for a moment. I sat back and put my feet up on the coffee table. I looked around the room some more while I waited for another question. There was so much I had forgotten, but being back here had unlocked more and more memories that continued to wash over me. I was trying to hold on to my cool as not all those churned up recollections were pleasant. I stood up and walked over to the front door to peer outside the small central window embedded into the center of it. I could see the old neighborhood as I remembered it all those years ago. The lot across the street that served as a parking area for those that worked at the wheel works at the end of the block was empty of cars. I furrowed my brow as I thought for a moment. An empty lot meant it was afterhours or the weekend.
The gears in my own head started turning. “Wait, where is everyone?” I asked Johnny. Johnny turned to look at me still processing my last response. “Uh..oh, Mom and dad are out of town. They took a trip east this time. I think Rio said they are in Arizona right now. Rio and Nathan went out to get some food and to rent some movies from Video Showcase. Knowing them they’ll eat out first. Talia is staying over at Tia Rosie’s place today with her friends.” I grunted at his response. My mind was wandering as he mentioned Talia and Tia Rosie.
A sudden sharp pain pieced my heart. The pain of a thousand memories now unsealed spilled out from the box I had locked them away in. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes as I turned back to look at Johnny. He felt it too. He stared at the floor with an intensity that made me think it would burst into flames at any moment. I walked back over to him and sat next to him. He didn’t move. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he threw himself into me. I could feel the tears dripping onto me as he sobbed intensely. “Hey man, its ok. It’s going to be ok.” I said as my own tears started to flow uncontrollably. I pulled him close and draped my other arm around him.
I knew the pain he was feeling. It was such a heavy burden, and I knew there was no one he felt he could talk to. I remembered it all so vividly. We sat there for what seemed to be an eternity. When we finally stopped sobbing, and our noses ran dry, we tried to breathe our way through to calmness. I got up and knelt in front of him. “Johnny, listen to me and remember what it is that I’m about to say to you. You are stronger than you think. You are stronger than you believe. NO ONE should ever have to go through this. Just because it happened to Talia, doesn’t mean you have to put up with it any longer. I know you didn’t think it was wrong, but I’m telling you that what she is doing to you is wrong. Talking to mom and dad isn’t going to make them hate you. You are not doing this to her, she is doing it to you. I’m not making excuses for her, but she is also more damaged than anyone realizes, and she is also dealing with the same level of pain you are. Remember that we do unto others what has been done to us. That doesn’t mean we need to continue the cycle of abuse” The lump in my throat grew immense at my own statement. I swallowed it as best I could and continued “You are going to deal with this pain a little bit at a time, and you’ll slowly get over this. It’s like a broken bone. When it happens, you don’t realize how bad the pain is until the adrenaline wears off, but then the immense pain is there. Just remember that this will pass. Just like a broken bone, you will heal over time, and one day, you will realize that the pain is gone and the bone is no longer broken. You’ll remember the pain, but it won’t hurt anymore.”
Johnny sat there in stunned silence. I knew he didn’t have anyone to help him through this. He couldn’t talk to Rio or Nathan about what was going on. Mom and Dad were constantly working to keep the family fed and sheltered and while they provided materially for their kids, emotional help was less available. Perhaps it was due to their energies being divided into 4 kids, a mortgage and multiple jobs, or perhaps it was also the culture of not talking about problems. Either way, they needed to know what was happening. They wouldn’t be able to fix it otherwise. “They’re going to be mad at me” he finally said after a few moments of silence. “No they won’t be. They love us all. I know you’re not used to hearing it, but they do love you. Everything they do is because of their love for us. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Telling them isn’t going to cause them to be angry.” I thought for a moment to find a good analogy. “You love Odie and Lady, right?” He nodded in agreement. “Ok, how would you feel if you knew someone you trusted was coming to the house and beating up our dogs when we weren’t around?” He thought about it for a second before his face changed to anger. “I’d want to kill them!” “Yes, but would you also feel sad that you weren’t there to try to protect them?” I reasoned. His face changed again. He understood what I was saying. Mom and Dad would be angry, but not necessarily at him. They would also feel a great sadness knowing that someone was hurting their child.
I smiled at him. He understood. I nodded. “Dude…You’re going to come to understand that life is not what you think it will be. Life is messy and can change in an instant. The plans you make today may not make it to next week. A lifelong goal can be derailed because of something out of your control. Mom and dad have spent their life protecting us with the goal of keeping us safe, but circumstances out of their control have affected their kids, and now we- you all have to deal with the fallout. Just remember that you are not the culprit. Yes, mom and dad will be hurt and angry, but not at you. Trust them. They don’t do things to hurt us” Johnny hugged me. I- He didn’t have many people he could trust and open up to. He liked to talk a lot about everything going on in his life, no matter how trivial. Everything, except this. This was a shameful topic, and he didn’t feel like anyone would understand why he didn’t go to an adult sooner. The problem was simple. He simply didn’t understand that it was wrong. Now that he had an adult that he could talk to, himself no less, he wanted to lift this burden off his shoulders. He was happy to have found someone and he hugged me tightly. I hugged him back just at tightly. It wasn’t every day that I could meet my younger self and help to comfort them. “Thank you” he said to me.
The world darkened, and everything faded to black.
I lifted my head out of my knees and looked around. I was sitting under the window in my old bedroom again. Had I fallen asleep? I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. I was emotionally drained and incredibly tired. I hadn’t had sleep like that in years. I got to my feet and looked around the room briefly before walking out to mom and dad’s old room. I grabbed my camera and slowly walked the house, snapping picture after picture. The only sound to be heard was the sound of the camera shutter and my soft footsteps. I thought about my dream as I took pictures.
Upon entering my room, a random memory hit me.
The stash.
I was pretty sure I had taken the hidden box when I moved out all those years ago, but since I was here, I should double check. Heading into the closet, I pushed the panel that led to the attic space out of the way and peered in. I couldn’t see anything, so I reached up there to feel around. The box was indeed gone. I felt around for a few more seconds and was surprised to feel what felt like a thick envelope. I didn’t remember leaving anything up there, but after pulling it down and giving it a cursory glance, I figured it was an old envelope of lost love letters. It wasn’t until I blew off the thick layer of dust that I realized what I was holding. It was a letter. Not just any letter. It was addressed to me.
Under the now semi-cleared layer of dust were the words “To be opened by future me”. I looked at it for a few moments before opening it. I couldn’t remember making this at all, much less storing it up in my secret hiding spot. If ever I hid something, it was in the stash box. My hands shook a bit as I started to open the envelope and pulled out the yellowed pages inside. I started reading.
"Dear Future John. I have spent the last few years remembering a dream I had when I was younger. Life was…difficult at that time, and I spent a lot of time escaping my reality by reading a lot of books and watching a lot of TV. On the off-chance that what I think is a dream really happened. I wanted to write some things down in an effort to give you my thanks. I merely consider myself a conveyer of thanks, although I will pile on my own thanks to you for your words of encouragement. I remember finding a stranger in the house one day while I was home alone. I was afraid he was there to hurt me at first, but after a few moments, I came to realize I was meeting myself. Well, I was meeting me, but from the future. I think he said he was in his 40’s, but I couldn’t tell you with any certainty. Either way, we talked. We talked about life, and what the future held in store for us…
Mostly though, we talked about the abuse. Well, Talked is being generous. We cried, and then we talked. I don’t remember exactly what he told me, but I remember how he made me feel. He made me feel safe. I felt like I could trust him. Trust myself. In the end, he gave me the courage to stand up for myself both at home and at school. He also gave me the courage to talk to mom and dad about what was going on between me and Talia. I do remember being afraid that I would be punished, but he reassured me that they wouldn’t, and that they loved me.
It was a difficult and awkward conversation, but in the end, arrangements were made for me to share a room with Rio and Nathan. I didn’t have much of a relationship with Talia for a long while, but after some years, we managed to patch things up. She apologized to me, and I came to understand the abuse she herself was subjected to by so-called family friends. She didn’t tell me this in an effort to excuse it, but to merely help give me closure to a difficult time from my own childhood. Mom and dad promised to be more attentive to us and we sort of established what I guess you would call an open door policy. We talk more about stuff that’s happening in our lives. Mom is much easier to talk to now. Dad is a little more patient with us too. I apologized to them for not coming to them sooner, and dad gave me a “nugget of wisdom” that I think I’ll live by: We can’t fix what we don’t know is broken. I’ve tried to make sure I talk to them when something is wrong, and I’ve tried to implement that in my life so I don’t have problems with other people.
I’m trying to grow up to be a good guy. I want to have good relationships with people. Nathan says I’m turning into a people pleaser, but I don’t necessarily see that as a terrible thing. I know when to say no to someone. Well, either way, I wanted to make sure I thank you for the help you gave us. I probably won’t remember writing this, but I hope I do find it again someday. Here’s hoping I turn into the man I feel you are. -John Age 16."
I stared at the letter, the words blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly brushed them away as I quietly spoke to no one in particular. “Thanks guys. I hope I live up to your expectations” I folded the letter, placed it in my pocket, and walked out of the room. After picking up my backpack and tripod, I silently walked towards the front door, my footsteps echoing in the empty house. I turned to look back at the empty living room one last time, and after a moment, I walked out.

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Introduction: The Transformative Power of Encouragement

Have you ever considered the profound impact that words of encouragement can have on your life? Imagine facing a challenging day, only to receive a timely, uplifting message that changes your perspective and boosts your spirits. The Bible, a timeless source of wisdom, offers countless verses that serve as powerful reminders of God’s love, strength, and faithfulness. Let’s explore some of these verses to uncover the treasure trove of encouragement God has provided for us.

Encouragement in Times of Trouble

Life’s storms can sometimes make us feel isolated and overwhelmed. However, the Bible reassures us that we are never alone. Here are a few verses that remind us of God’s comforting presence in times of trouble:

• Isaiah 41:10 – “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
• Psalm 46:1 – “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.”
• 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 – “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”

Strength Beyond Measure

There are moments when we feel inadequate to handle life’s demands. During such times, the Bible encourages us to rely on God’s infinite strength instead of our own. Consider these verses:

• Philippians 4:13 – “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
• Isaiah 40:31 – “But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”
• 2 Timothy 1:7 – “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”

Hope for the Future

When the future seems uncertain, the Bible offers promises of hope and a brighter tomorrow. Here are verses to inspire hope in our hearts:

• Jeremiah 29:11 – “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
• Romans 15:13 – “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

Love That Knows No Bounds

In a world where love often feels conditional, the Bible reveals the depth of God’s unconditional love for us. These verses remind us of the boundless love God has for each of us:

• Romans 8:38-39 – “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
• John 3:16 – “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

Conclusion: Be Encouraged and Share the Encouragement

The Bible’s verses of encouragement are like a wellspring that never runs dry, ready to rejuvenate our spirit and outlook on life. As we have seen, no matter what we face—be it uncertainty, weakness, or fear—there is a promise in God’s word that can light our path and give us peace.
Let these verses sink into your heart and transform your day. But don’t stop there; share the encouragement with others. Just as you have been uplifted, extend that same hope, strength, love, and encouragement to those around you. Together, let’s brighten the world, one Bible verse at a time.
Are you ready to inspire and be inspired? Embrace God’s powerful word of encouragement today and see how it transforms your life and the lives of those around you!
If you want to want to research more Bible Answers on your own, please try our Bible Answers GPT. It’s easy to get lost in the interesting responses you’ll find… every search is like a new treasure hunt 🙂
Source =

Part I of my Story on the Empress GF, which may or may not yet come as a Meme in this AU from u/Sweet_older-Sister. But whether or not, I wrote this up and wanted to share it with you, with Part II soon to follow.
WARNING: If you expect this to be a harsh takedown or bashing of AU!Big E, I have to disappoint you. She WILL be criticized, but I personally prefer him/her to be a sympathetic, ultimately well-meaning, if highly flawed, Character. Also, the SO for Big E is both perpetual and a Psyker, just not one anywhere near her Level. That said, I kept them Gender-neutral, so if you wanna imagine them and Big E as Golden Space Lesbian Mommies, feel free to do so!
Regardless of all that, however, I mostly just hope you can enjoy this! Have fun!
I open the door to her chamber, paying no heed tot he noises of raging battle, clearly audible despite all the walls, doors and distance between us and them.
As always, despite the gold-plated…everything, the most radiant thing in this room is still her.
Tall and proud she stands as she puts on the last pieces of her golden armor, light glowing off o fit, pure and bright. Her mighty sword hangs by her side and her long, raven black hair is flowing down her back. When she turns around, her glowing eyes, which seemed so often to somehow hold both the untold wisdom oft he wises changes and yet also the boundless arrogance oft he most reckless fools widen upon seeing me, before they swiftly narrow again.
„…I told my Companions to keep you away“, she says, her voice sounding cold and rejecting.
„Well, too bad“, I say, meeting her eyes without fear. „They know better than to try and keep me away when the two of us have to talk.“
Anger briefly flares up in her eyes. „There is nothing to talk about. You are distracting me from preparing for battle!“, she says, her voice cold, harsh and regal, demanding obedience. „As your Empress, I order you to leave. At once!!“
Most other men and women would have crumbled at this moment. Hastily apologized and retreated.
But not me.
I stand my ground and return her cold glare without flinching. „…I am not your Subordinate“, I say, firmly and steadfast. „Not at this moment. Right now, I am your Consort and equal, and as such, I refuse that order!!“
Her eyes widen before she grits her teeth. „You DARE defy your Empress?!“ She stomps a foot on the ground. „I command you, LEAVE!!“
I narrow my eyes. „No.“
„I SAID LEAVE!!!“ Her scream shakes the room far more harshly than the distant Artillery Fire ever had. Her voice rings not just in my ears, but in my mind and soul, as psychic pressure seems to drown the room.
And still, I stand my ground and glare up at the Golden Giantess above me. „NO!!“
Her mask is slowly cracking, her eyes wide and her breathing starting to become uneven. „I…I ORDER you to LEAVE-“
„And I REFUSE!!“ My own shout is not nearly as impressive in terms of sheer power…but it seems to hit the Empress of Mankind like a whiplash.
Her breathing going ever more ragged, she turns away from me. „There is NOTHING to talk about, now!! Leave!!“
I clench my fist, a wave of anger rushing through me. „You think you can just shut me out like that?! Confine me to a secure Chamber while you rush off to your Doom?! You selfish BITCH!! That’s NOT how it works!! Didn’t you promise me, all these Millennia ago?! That we would see this through together, come what may?! That you would never ignore me or shut me out?!“ I snort bitterly. „But, well, I suppose you broke that last promise a while ago. What’s one more, eh?!“
I swear I can hear her breath hitch in her throat. My heart clenches at the sound, but I soldier on. She NEEDS to hear this.
„And where did that lead us?! Oh, right: Besieged in our Palace by our own daughters and their sons that have fallen prey to our worst enemies, with all that’s left to do being a reckless assault on their Leader that could well get you killed!! An assault that I just NOW learned about from one of our older sons!! How could I forget that?!“
„Stop it!!“, she growls. „I…I have to-“
„You ALWAYS ‚have to‘!! And yet, you have never stopped considering if maybe you SHOULDN’T!! That would have saved us a lot of trouble, wouldn’t it?!“ I shake my head, glaring at her. „Maybe it’s time for you to finally get that obstinate head out of your golden laurels-“
„STOP IT!!“
„-and stop being the Empress of Mankind for a few fucking minutes-“
„S-stop it!“
„-so I can finally have a real fucking talk with the woman I fell in love with again-“
„S…stop…“ Her voice sounds almost pleading now, but I steel my heart and prepare the final blow.
„BEFORE I MIGHT LOSE HER FOREVER, JUST LIKE WE LOST OUR DAUGHTERS, YOU STUBBORN OLD WOMAN!!!“
I am panting heavily, finally feeling the hot tears running down my face. I didn‘t even realize that I have begun to cry…but, laying my wounded heart bare like this has brought up all the pain and suffering from the last few years all too strongly.
Slowly, hesitantly, she turns back around to face me. The Golden Halo framing her head has vanished, as had much of her glow…and her eyes, usually so regal and proud, are now brimming with tears, looking so ancient, tired and sad as they turn towards me.
The Mask that is the Empress of Mankind had crumbled away…and what remains is the woman I had learned to know and love, all those Millennia ago, when we first met at on shores of old Albion.
A woman so old, tired, weary and sad, so beaten down and wounded that I had begun to fear she was forever lost.
„I…I am sorry…“ Her voice is almost a whimper, carrying untold grief and regret as she collapses onto her bed, which nearly broke from the weight. „I am s-so sorry…I…I ruined everything…!“
She buries her face in her hands and begins to sob.
My heart clenches and I breathe out the last of my anger, relief flashing through my mind. I have gotten through to her, finally, for the first time in years.
Too late, I remind myself as sharp regret flashes through me. Far too late for far too many people…
But at least not entirely too late.
I sigh as I slowly walk up to and then sit down next to her. I reach up and gently place my hand on her armored arm.
„H-how…“ She finally whispers between sobs. „How did I screw this up so badly…? How did I let it come to this…?“
I sigh again. „…It was not entirely your fault“, I finally say. „The Game was rigged against us the moment the Four kidnapped them. The seeds were already sown. And…“ I look down, overwhelming regret in my heart. „And while you fucked up, it’s not like I have done too much better of a job...“
Images flash before my mind. Images of my…OUR daughters. Our darling little Girls and their significant others, our sons and daughters in law. Our greatest hope for Mankind and the Galaxy, our pride and joy. So many of them now lost forever, through our enemies fault and our own hubris.
I remember giving my blessing Hathor‘s attack on the Interex to avenge her Moonbeam, thinking nothing more of it, only for her to emerge as the Chosen Warmaster of Chaos…
I remember trying and failing to convince my Empress to give Petra more meaningful assignments, Campaigns where she can truly show her worth and skills, only to let myself be convinced that she and the Iron Warriors were needed too badly in these grueling Sieges…
I remember trying to talk Aurelia out of her worship of her Mother, to stop spreading Cults to her service over the Worlds, only to fail miserably..and to fail even more miserably in comforting her after she lost her Little Light on Monarchia…her mother and I had not talked for a while after that…
I remember chastising Alpharia and Omega for their reckless approach to collateral damage in their style of Warfare, chosing my words too harshly…
I remember coldly telling Alakhai that I do not approve of her significant other, getting into a loud shouting match over it…
I remember harshly rebuking Magnolia after Nicea, her reckless pursuit of Warp Knowledge pressing all the wrong buttons in me and, in my anger, making me compare her unfavorably to Lyanna and Mortia…
Next to me, she keeps crying, her shoulder trembling as years off suppressed guilt, regret and grief finally break through to the surface. „Our daughters…our sweet children…m-my fault…all my fault…!!“
Bitter guilt roils in my soul. „No“, I whisper quietly. „It was my fault, too. I…I wasn’t that good a parent, either…not to them, and not to our children in-law…“
...Where had we gone so wrong? We had raised children before! And not too badly, at that! So why had we now failed so miserably at keeping our Family together?!
…The answer is simple and bitter. Because we had severely overestimated our ability to be the parents they deserved while running an ever-expanding Empire of Conquest and balance between the two issues, especially since our daughters were vitally important Generals. Because we had trouble trusting people we didn’t know for a long time already, like Malcador, after Millennia of heartbreaks and betrayals. Not at all helped by the fact that we had been unable to bond with our daughters before they were taken from us as embryos.
But that is no excuse. The Lion’s share oft he blame falls on both our shoulders, and we know it. We had placed what we believed to be the needs of Mankind and the Imperium before our Family too many times…and now, we all had paid the price for this.
Oh, how the Four must be laughing at our foolishness…and, much as I HATE them for all they have done to us and our Family, I have to bitterly admit that they would be right to do so…
Still crying, she pulls me to her into a hug, which I gently return. Despite her towering over me, I had always felt the most comfortable with her when she was at this size.
…It provides a small measure of relief from the agonizing knowledge that a Number of our Children, now in service to those four fucking Cancer Tumors upon reality, are currently trying to breach into the Imperial Palace and destroy us, Mankind and all we have ever worked for. And the knowledge that some of our other children have already died at each others hands.
And now, my Empress would have to kill one more of our daughters to end this. Hathor, our best and brightest Girl, beloved and cherished, now our worst, most bitter enemy.
Our ultimate failure as Parents, laid bare.
„…I can never make up for what I have done“, my love finally says, her voice sad and resigned even as her tears still flow. „Not to them…and not to you. I am sorry…but I know that it changes nothing…“
I gently place a hand on her cheek. „…It does change one thing“, I say quietly. „That I know the woman I love is still there…“
„…I was not a good wife to you in these last years“, she whispers. „Almost as bad as I was a mother…“
I gently press my head against her. „…I forgive you“, I finally say.
She shakes her head. „I don’t deserve that…“
„Maybe not. But I forgive you, anyway.“ I look at her. „Just, please…promise me to never let your mask control you like this, again.“
She nods, burying her face in my shoulder. „I swear…I swear, I won’t…“
She is sincere. I can tell. I have known her too long not to.
„I didn’t want you to come here“, she says quietly. „I knew that if I saw you, I would crumble again…“
„Perhaps it was time for you to crumble“, I answer sadly. „To remind yourself that you are still human, at the core…not just the cold, calculating, uncaring Empress you had become…“
She tightens her hug, silence reigning for a few seconds. „…Thank you“, she finally whispers. „Thank you for…for snapping me out of this, one last time…“
Fear now rises within me. Despite knowing that this may be the last time I see her…I do not want to think about this. The idea of losing her forever after all we have been through…it is terrifying.
„…Please, don’t…don’t say that.“ Now it is I whose voice is shaking. „Our other daughters and children in-law…they still need you. The Imperium still needs you. I still need you! You…you will make it. You have been in tough spots before! You-“
She interrupts me, gently pressing her forehead against mine. „…If…if I don’t come back…promise me you’ll be there for them. For as long as you can. Please, my love…promise me you won’t give up. Promise me that you will be a better parent than I was…“
I swallow. „I…I promise.“ I finally whisper. And I mean it, as much as I desperately hope I will never have to face this future without her.
I try to calm myself. She will be fine. She will win…and after this War is over, we will finally make all the amends we can, save as many of our children as possible and finally, FINALLY do right by them…as they deserve, as we should have from the start!
We will!! We HAVE to!!
…I desperately cling onto this hope. The Alternatives…are too much to bare imagining.
She tightens her hug around me again as we sit there, quietly wishing that this last moment of quiet and calm, filled with regret and sorrow as it may be, would never end.
But it would. Soon. The Teleporters would be ready in mere Minutes.
Oh, how I wish I could accompany her onto the Vengeful Spirit, to confront our wayward daughter, perhaps, as I hoped foolishly, even save her…but I know that this is the one thing she will never allow. As a Psyker, I am powerful, but never as strong as Malcador, let alone her or any of our daughters. Chaos would not hesitate to kill me or worse aboard this tainted vessel and I can not afford to slow her down and make her waste time and energy protecting me.
And besides, if any Deamons make it through the defenses while she is gone, I will be needed to keep them from reaching the Throne.
I know that this, she would be adamant about, now more than ever. So I do not even try.
…It still causes an awful feeling in my gut, nonetheless, as we stay hugging each other for as long as we can, two foolish, flawed and weary parents, sharing in our grief, regret and sorrow over our destroyed family in these last moments before the Final Clash…

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Hey all,
I just passed the CAPM exam last night with above targets on all sections. Wanted to share my tips for those of you nervous Nelly's out there:
I did my coursework using Skillsoft Percipio. The link: https://www.skillsoft.com/channel/capmr-df0c9361-2c3d-11e7-83d1-dba0327abefc
There's a practice quiz at the end of each of the 25 lessons that really help recap what you learned.
In terms of practice exams, I recommend Andrew Ramdayal's video. The link: https://youtu.be/gwPjidwEWik?si=s8I8xeyMVl4H2bCT
And honestly, that was all I did to study. A lot of the exam questions are scenario based with the answer choices being the terms you've learned throughout the course. So as long as you know what the terms are (which you should), you'll know the answer. I can't speak for all of the exam versions but my version focused a lot on agile and adaptive methodologies, so I guess make sure you study up on those terms. Also, don't worry about running out of time, there's plentyyyy of time and you prob won't spend more than 1 min on each question.
Good luck!

Credit to Blue for the wonderful cover art of Trilvri
Thank you to:
u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the Nature of Predators universe.
u/EdibleGojid, author of Dark Cuts, for proofreading.
EmClear, aspiring author, for proofreading
You, the reader, for your support. I love reading your comments.
Please consider reading the works of my proofreaders as they’re all authors of excellent stories and be sure to check the links below for more of my work and beautiful art from members of the community.
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Memory transcription subject: Sawvek, Junior Extermination Officer
Date [standardised human time]: October 5th, 2136
Hard foam presses uncomfortably up against delicate pressure points situated across the length of my entire body, building up to an unbearable ache that makes me shift and turn against the thin mattress pad. I yank at the rough old blanket I’d taken out of storage and clutch it even tighter around my body, trying to keep out the chill. The best racks, the ones near the heating vents, had already been claimed long before I’d decided to move into the Guild House’s Barracks and it doesn’t seem likely that the current occupants will be giving up their spots any time soon.
My mind is still racing from the events of last paw, replaying the scene over and over again in my dreams and in my head. The way my brother had looked at me… That look on his face when he’d seen the real me…
My paw gives a sympathetic throb in memory, still aching from where it had met the wall, but at least I had been able to wrap it up a bit and stop the bleeding. I feel like I should take it as a small miracle that it isn't broken. More medical bills are the last thing I need right now.
I turn about in the bunk once more, rolling around in vain to try and find a comfortable position that doesn’t seem to exist. Through a conscious act of will I try to empty my mind and sleep, but the very act of trying not to think about things only brings them bubbling back up to the surface of my thoughts. My heartbeat echoes in my ears, a damnable drumming sound brought about by the exertion of my own restless tossing and turning. Out in the hallway I can hear the muffled shuffling of feet and murmurs of conversation. The Guild Hall never sleeps, and it seems that neither would I this paw.
Electing to abandon the attempt as hopeless, I cut my rest claw short and get up, venturing out into the hallway. If I can’t sleep anyway then I might as well start my waking claw early, maybe get in a little exercise. It’s not so bad when it’s self-directed, almost fun in a way. If our family had the money to support it then maybe I could have been an athlete of some variety growing up. I had always possessed something of a natural physicality.
“Stop wasting time with worthless questions about what could have been, Killer.” The voice interjects, early and active today by the sound of it. “You’ll never amount to anything more than a wild predator kept on a leash.”
There’s nothing to do but sigh and carry on. It was right after all. This is it. This is my life now.
Making my way down the hallway towards the gym I find myself walking past a row of private offices assigned to some of the more veteran officers on staff. Most are empty at this claw, their occupants either asleep or off doing other work. One room in particular catches my attention though, the one belonging to our newest PRED Team Commander.
The door leading inside is open and ajar, seemingly forgotten in the midst of more pressing business and granting me a look inside. The entire room is a mess, papers and binders strewn about everywhere with official looking documents littering the floor. A map of the city decorates the otherwise unadorned and impersonal space. On its face it hosts a variety of multicoloured pins, all connecting seemingly arbitrary locations as well as photographs of people and places from the records department. The face of the former PRED Team Commander, Vrienna, looks out at me once again with the same cruel eyes that decorate the memorial wall. Beside her photo are another pair of eyes, a pair I recognise, but not one I would have expected to see here.
Trilvri, my brother’s creepy coworker, the one who’d brought him home the night he’d drunk himself into a stupor, stares out at me from the wall. He was younger in this photo, barely of age, if even that, and dressed in a regulation space corps flight suit, but I could still recognise him. Trilvri’s eyes appear somehow more lively than when I had met him in person, though it does nothing to improve his overall disposition, looking, as they are, as if behind them resides only hatred and a feral desire to kill and rend. Come to think of it, he had mentioned he used to be in the corps hadn’t he? ‘Used to’ being the operative word. When I’d asked he hadn’t seemed particularly fond of his time in the service…
Situated as he is next to Vrienna like that, their pitch-black wool and evil-looking eyes bear a striking resemblance. It was the exact same sort of predatory expression that bore into your soul, the kind that made me feel weak and exposed, the same kind that was worn by-
“What do you think you’re doing in my office?” A voice asks from behind, nonplussed, but with a casual depth of power and authority behind it that makes me freeze on the spot.
“Commander Glagrig, Sir!” I turn about on the spot, fixed at attention in the doorway as I stare up at the man himself. “I’m sorry to intrude. I noticed someone had forgotten to close the door so I was just going to secure it.”
“I see.” Glagrig doesn’t seem to believe a word of it, but neither does he seem inclined to press the issue. “At ease. Tell me, do you recognise the man in the photo there? Have you ever seen him before?”
“No, Commander.” I lie reflexively as I shift to a parade rest, not fully knowing why, but knowing that whatever is going on I want no part of it, for me or my brother. It’s only after the fact that it occurs to me that lying might be worse than telling the truth.
“How… regrettable.” The prestige officer says plainly and I can’t tell whether he believes me or not. “If you do ever catch sight of this individual, then be sure to let me know immediately.”
“Y-Yes, Commander.” I subconsciously swallow with apprehension, hoping that he doesn’t notice. I want nothing more than to run away as quickly as I can, but I haven’t been dismissed yet.
“Junior Officer Sawvek, was it?” Glagrig carries on, looking me up and down, dissecting me with his eyes. “You have quite the interesting record on file and Officer Intalran is quite adamant about your potential. Your simulator results speak for themselves, even if they are just simulations.”
“Thank you, Commander.” I can feel myself growing dizzy as I answer with uncertainty.
“Don’t thank me,” the all-consuming void in front of me replies with no hint of warmth, “just remember that your performance is under evaluation. It’s in my interests to keep note of promising young aspirants who might someday join my team, and I would hate to see you squander your talents.”
“I-I understand, Commander.” I flick my tail in agreement, straining not to look away towards the floor.
“Dismissed.” Glagrig brushes past me as he enters his office, moving to shut the door behind himself.
“Um, Commander?” I ask just before the door shuts, feeling a beckoning call of curiosity that even the predatory prestige exterminator couldn’t crush. “If you don’t mind me asking… Why do you have all that stuff up on the wall there?”
The door opens again, just a crack, and I can feel my superiors' weighty presence bearing down on me, almost suffocating in its intensity. “It’s simply a personal matter. I have reason to believe that the prior investigation regarding the kelach incident was conducted according to… insufficient standards. The predator responsible was never found and I intend to remedy that deficiency.”
“How hard could it be to find a kelach?” I tilt my ears in confusion. “They're huge!”
“Despite initial reports,” he answers with an ominous, cold tone that sends a chill up my spine, “it may be possible that we're dealing with something far more dangerous than just a kelach.”
“T-Thank you, Commander.” I flick my tail in appreciation and the door closes.
I breathe a sigh of relief as the malevolent aura recedes. That was too close.
“And you’re a complete moron going back to ask him more questions afterwards, Killer.” The voice rises with amusement. “What? Do you want him to figure you out and turn you to cinders? Only a matter of time, Killer.”
“Ugh, shut up.” I mutter under my breath, quickly turning back around to make sure Commander Glagrig didn’t hear me, but when no reprisal comes I quickly depart. If I’m gonna be stupid I should at least try not to do so right in front of his office.
As the imminent threat of our in-house prestige exterminator dwindles so too does the energy driven by the adrenaline of the encounter. It figures that the moment I roll out of bed I want to take a nap again, but I know the moment I lie back down I’ll be back to full wakefulness in an instant. That’s just how that sort of thing works. With that in mind there’s really only one solution, a big, steaming hot cup of tea.
Making my way towards the tea machine I spot Jonsco, the feisty little primitive that mans our dispatch centre, smacking the top of the dispenser with a clenched paw while holding a mug underneath it.
“Is the tea machine fixed?” I ask as I pull out a mug from the cabinet myself.
Jonsco sighs heavily and shoots me a combative glare. “For the last time it’s not my brahking job to fix this damn tea machine! You got a problem with that then you can go pester someone else about it!”
I shrink back under the harsh rebuke. Jonsco may be small, but there was as much rage and fury condensed into that little package as anyone else in this department. Maybe more.
“I… I didn’t mean to imply…I just wanted to know if it was working again or not… Sorry.” I sputter out, feeling properly admonished as I look away towards the ground.
Jonsco looks at me quizzically, his hard glare softening somewhat as he seems to truly see me for the first time before returning to his usual scowl.
“Right…Whatever you say…” With one final smack the machine coughs and chokes, sputtering to life with a struggle, and a small trickle of freshly brewed tea begins to fill Jonsco’s cup. “The machine is on the fritz again as usual, but if you hit it just right, do a little percussive maintenance, then you can get it started again.”
“Thanks, Jonsco.” I lean back against the wall and watch as the mug slowly fills, impressed by the primitives know-how. “That's actually pretty smart of you.”
“For a ‘primitive’ right?” The words are barbed and spiteful, but lack his typical enthusiasm, more of a simple statement of fact than a real question. I couldn't exactly deny it, those had been my thoughts, and so the silence drags on awkwardly, marked only by the splash of tea falling into the steadily rising pool.
“What are you doing here at this claw anyway?” I eventually ask, dodging the question entirely. “We’ve still got at least another half-claw until our crew's shift is supposed to start.”
“I could ask you the same thing, you know?” The angry little dispatch operator retorts. “I'm here early working an overtime shift so I can afford to put food on my family's table. It's expensive feeding that many mouths. What's your excuse?”
“I had a fight with my brother…” I rub the back of my neck as I turn away abashedly, “moved out of the apartment and into the barracks full time… couldn't sleep…”
“Well then you should hurry up and work on patching things up with him.” Jonsco looks at me with an uncharacteristic hint of sympathy in his eyes. “Your family are the only ones who might actually care. This Gods-damned place is a slyther’s nest and no one here gives a speh about you or your problems. If you want my advice, you should do your best to spend as little time in this cesspool as possible.”
With his cup now full, Jobsco steps back from the machine and begins walking out towards the main hall.
“Thanks, Jonsco.” My words stop him in his tracks as he walks away from me. “I appreciate it.”
“... You're welcome.” He says after a short pause, glancing back to look at me one more time before leaving. “See you around, Sawvek.”
Taking advantage of the tea machine while it’s still mostly working, I fill up my own cup and drink deeply of the warm, fragrant beverage. The taste is bitter and unpleasant, just about the quality I would expect of this Guild Hall, but even at the first taste it’s evident that it’s been loaded with an extra strength dose of caffeine. I down the drink quickly and rinse out the cup before continuing on my journey towards the training hall. Fatigue begins to fall away as I walk, bit by bit as the drug makes its way into my bloodstream, blocking off sleep receptors and energising me. I know I’ll probably pay for it later, no amount of caffeine can actually replace sleep, but for now it feels good and I can see how some people can get addicted to the stuff.
A loud, metallic clanging emanates from the gym as I approach, something unexpected for this time of paw. No one's reserved space in the gym for this claw and not many people are industrious enough to sweat on their own initiative. Peeking my head inside the door I spy Bikim, the perfect, privileged, ‘holier than thou’ brahkass occupying the otherwise empty weight room. His irritatingly handsome face is taut with strain as he performs a series of weighted squats, his back and leg muscles straining underneath his short-cropped wool, and he pants heavily under the exertion.
I’m half tempted just to leave and go back to bed despite the fact that there’s no way I’d be getting any sleep with the tea running through my system. It’s too early in the paw to deal with Bikim’s speh. Before I can slip away unnoticed though, he spots me. I give a heavy sigh and continue my way inside. There's nothing to be done for it now. Trying to back out now would only make things worse later, a sign of weakness.
“What… Do you want… Predator?” Bikim asks between gulps of air as he reracks his weights, practically hanging off the bar to support himself on shaky legs.
“Good paw to you too, Bikim.” I say, forcing civility into my tone. “I’m here to use the equipment. Same as you. I'm allowed.”
“Whatever…” He eyes me with suspicion. “Just keep your distance… I don't want to catch any of your taint.”
“Believe me,” I flick my tail out in irritation, “I intend to.”
Looking around the room for available spots, I march my way over towards a cable machine on the opposite side of the room. Not nearly as far from Bikim as I would like, but the farthest I can get without leaving the weight area entirely. Bikim watches me all the while as I seat myself down and begin adjusting the machine. Eventually he grows tired of watching me fumble around with the machine and returns to his own exercises with a displeased flick of the tail, quite obviously judging me for my lack of experience with the equipment.
A tense sort of quiet settles over the room as we each go about our business, trying our best to ignore one another. Bikim slowly winds his way around the room, cycling from station to station to exercise all the different parts of his body in sequence before repeating it all again. He seems to bypass my corner of the room, glancing over at me with each repetition of his pattern. For myself, I stay put where I am, taking advantage of the varied exercises offered by the versatile machine to experiment with different muscle groups. Occasionally I slip up, dropping the weights with a loud clang that always draws Bikim’s ire. Every time he seems just a bit more disgruntled, a bit less patient. Eventually, the constant disruption reaches a tipping point and the pompous, self-entitled jerk walks over to confront me.
“Do you always do this?” He asks rhetorically. “If you keep slamming the weights like that you're gonna break it. Your form is speh so either fix it or lower the weight so you don't have to keep compensating. Better yet, just leave. You’ve been monopolising the cable machine for almost half a claw now. I don't know why you're even here in the first place.”
“Oh, look at Mr. Know-it-all thinking he can just go around telling us what to do, eh Killer?” The voice rises to the challenge. “Where does a guy like that who's been handed everything his whole life think he can get off with telling us how we should be doing anything?”
“Brahk off Bikim!” I don't even try to reign in the predator inside, feeling justified in letting it roam free for once. “I didn't ask for your advice and you don't get to kick me out of the weight room just because you can't wait your turn! I'm here because I don't have anywhere else to go! Ever since Intalran dragged me into this stupid Guild this brahking job has taken over my entire life! I don't even have a home to go back to anymore!”
Bikim's body tenses at my tirade and his tail flicks out aggressively like a whip.
“That's your own damn fault, predator!” He shouts back, eager for the excuse to vent his own frustrations. “Maybe if you weren't just some blood-starved beast out roaming the streets then you wouldn't be here right now! I’ve read your file! You got a history of herdless behaviour and physical altercations! Someone should have institutionalised you a long time ago, but someone took pity on you and let you slip through the cracks because of your poor dying mommy! They should have known it would come back to bite them! A normal, functional member of the herd wouldn't even think to pick a flamer up off the ground and burn another person to death with it! But you? You did it instinctively! You revelled in it!”
“You think that was easy for me!” I get up and walk towards him as I yell incredulously. “You think I asked for that to happen! You think it was fun for me to get choked out and almost eaten! That thing I burned wasn't even a person anymore! It was a predator in the middle of a feeding frenzy! So yeah, I did what I did, and you know what? It's a good thing I did! If I wasn't a freak of nature then that thing would have kept on going and kept on killing! Last I checked, preventing that sorta thing was supposed to be your job, but I had to be the one to step up! Now I have to live with the consequences of my actions every paw, knowing that I’m a Protector-damned killer that doesn't belong anywhere! Maybe you, in your infinite wisdom, would've known the perfect thing to do in that situation, but I’m not you! I’ve had to work and struggle for every little thing I have! Not just had it handed to me on a silver platter!”
“Oh, so you got me all figured out do you?” Sarcasm drips from Bikim's mouth as he looks down on me. “You don't know me. You don't know my life or what I’ve been through, how hard I’ve worked to get where I am. You just see the end product from cycles of effort and assume that it's always been that way, that it's always been that easy. It hasn't.”
“Yes, I’m sure you had it so hard growing up Bikim.” Saying it aloud almost makes me laugh. “You’re such a child of privilege that it drips off of you with every move you make and every word you say. I hate people like you, thinking that you're better than everyone else just because you were lucky enough to be born into wealth and status. Try living like the other side for a change, scrounging for every credit just so you can afford to eat, and then try to tell me how hard you had it with a full belly and a warm home!”
“You’re right, predator,” Bikim says contemptuously, “I am a child of privilege. My family has a long and decorated military tradition, my father is a captain for the space corps, a brahking hero, and I’ve reaped the benefits of that. That privilege came at a cost though, and that’s called expectations. Second best is not good enough and I've had to put in ten times the effort as anyone else my whole life just to meet standards! At least you grew up with a father who was there for you and loved you without the condition that everything you do is perfect!”
“All that talk about reading my file and you didn't even get past the first page did you?” I snap at him with a snarl. “ I didn't grow up with a father at all! He's been dead since I was in elementary school! Killed in action! I barely even remember him anymore!”
That one seems to give Bikim pause, but I’m not done yet.
“If you and your whole family are such a bunch of brahking heroes then how come you're here, working as a common garrison exterminator in a run-down backwater city like this?” I taunt. “Shouldn't you be out gallantly fighting the Arxur with one of the fleets or on a colony pacification force rather than making my life here harder than it already is?”
“That's the price for failing to meet expectations,” Bikim quiets down, drawing away from the world and into himself, “the price for knocking up a beautiful, wonderful girl right after graduation and refusing to get rid of it afterwards. You get cut off. You lose that privilege, and you do whatever you have to in order to provide and try to be a good role model for your son.”
Now that one threw me for a loop. In the short time I’ve known Bikim I’ve had a lot of thoughts about him, few of them good, but never would I have expected him to be the type to take responsibility… For anything. Still, there is one thing about his story that doesn't line up…
“Oh really?” I take a step back as I watch for his reaction closely. “I seem to recall Jonsco mentioned just the other day that your wife had left you for a Human.”
“Don't you bring that brahking primitive into this!” Bikim's anger flares in an instant before returning to a subtle simmer of regret. “We’ve just been having a… a rough patch in our relationship. I’m not giving up on us. I’ll win her back. She's just… confused and being taken advantage of! It's all that damn predators fault!” Bikim sighs and sits down on a nearby bench. “You're not the only one whose had something taken from them because of this job. You're not the only one without a home to go back to.”
Looking at Bikim now, a sad, pathetic man moping on the bench with nothing better to do on his rest claw than to try to externalise his inner pain… I find it hard to stay angry at him. He's still a narcissistic brahk ass and a complete jerk, but it's hard to truly hate someone when you actually know them. I had made quite a few assumptions about him when we first met, and he certainly hadn't helped my impression of him since, but… perhaps I was wrong to judge him so harshly?
“Nah,” the voice chortles, “he’s a piece of speh that got what he brahking deserves for being an insufferable prick.”
Overhead the intercom crackles to life and I can hear Jonsco's voice reverberating over the airwaves.
“Officers Vaesh and Sawvek please report to the briefing area for assignment. Repeat. Officers Vaesh and Sawvek please report to the briefing area for assignment.”
“Sounds like it's time for your first field assignment, Kid.” Bikim says, staring up at the intercom. “At least it gets you out of my wool. Try not to brahk it up and make the rest of us look bad.”
“Hmph.” I turn to leave, muttering to myself. “Stupid brahkass.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N - Hello! Sorry this one took a while. Like I mentioned before I got delayed working on my Ficnapping chapter as well as a crossover One-shot that's still in progress (but hopefully will be done soon). In other news we have new art of Sawvek's life-changing encounter in the Builder's Lane Bloodbath as drawn by Miglove and you can still find that and everything else Nature of Family in the new Master Post linked up above.
If you like the story then please remember to upvote, comment, and use the “!Subscribeme” function to be alerted to all new posts. I post as often as I can but real life has a tendency of getting in the way and my job makes it almost impossible to keep to any kind of schedule. Your engagement and support go a long way towards helping to keep me on track and motivated, so thank you very much for reading and I hope you'll stay tuned for next chapter!

,, From John to the seven churches that are in Asia: grace and peace to you from Him who is, and who was, and who is to come; and of the seven spirits which are before His throne; And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful Witness, and the Firstborn from the dead, and the Prince of earthly kings, who loves us, and washes us from our sins with his own blood; And makes us kings and priests to God and his Father; to that glory and country for ever and ever. Amen."
Rev. 1:4-6
John is a witness of Jesus Christ who testifies to the word of God. the testimony of Jesus Christ, and everything that Jesus showed him and he is now sending the testimony, i.e. the Revelation to seven churches in Asia Minor. We can read who John is sending to in verse 11, where we have written the names of the churches to whom John needed the Revelation to be sent.
"And write what you see in a book, and send it to the churches that are in Asia: to Ephesus, and to Smyrna, and to Pergamum, and to Thyatira, and to Sardis, and to Philadelphia, and to Laodicea"
Rev. 1:11
Apart from these churches that are mentioned here, there were other local churches, but the Lord Jesus chose seven representative churches that had different problems that symbolize and represent the period of the church until the coming of the Lord Jesus for it.
In addition to these churches, the Revelation was given to all people, especially the church throughout history, and of course also to us in order to learn the details of the events that will soon begin to unfold, because the signs of the times indicate that... the end times" are near.
"Whoever has an ear should hear what the Spirit is saying to the churches."
Rev. 3:22
Jovan continues with the greeting, "Grace to you and peace" and this greeting is not from him because he cannot give grace and peace, true grace and peace can only be given by God and here practically as if he said, "Grace to you and peace from Lord Jesus Christ" the savior, because salvation and everything we receive from God is at the expense of the Lord Jesus Christ and it is a gift, because none of what we receive is a free gift. How important this word is in the New Testament is also evidenced by the fact that the great many books of the New Testament begin with the words "blessing you and peace" in the greeting sentences.
If there was no grace, practically no one would be alive today because all we deserved was death, but we are alive because of the grace and grace of God and not based on any of our merits or actions.
Everything we have in our physical, physical life is God's grace, and also all spiritual life and salvation is by grace from God whom Peter calls the God of grace.
"And the God of all grace, who calls you to his eternal glory in Christ Jesus"
1 Peter 5:10
"Because you are saved by grace through faith, and it is not from you, it is a gift from God. Not from works, so that no one can boast."
Eph. 2:8-9
We see that we are saved by grace, but that is not the end, we need to continue to grow in grace and in the knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ.
"But progress in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and the salvation of Jesus Christ."
2 Peter 3:18
"Because the grace of God that saves all people has been shown, teaching us to renounce the impiety and desires of this world, and to live honestly and righteously and devoutly in this world."
Titus 2:11-12
Here we have advice for an honest worldly life, and we also have a promise that we will receive grace if we find ourselves in some kind of trouble or perhaps illness.
"My grace is enough for you; for my strength is made perfect in weakness."
2 Cor. 12:9
"Let us therefore approach freely to the throne of grace, to receive grace and find grace for the time when we need help"
Hebrews 4:16
In the context of those advices for an honest life, there is also a Record about to whom God gives grace.
"...for God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble."
1 Peter 5:5
and in Jacob, God adds and says that he gives greater grace than problems
"And He gives a greater grace. Because he says: The Lord opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble."
James 4:6
"Grace to you and peace" here is first grace and then peace, and that is because peace is the result of grace. We get peace when we are in a good relationship with God, which means that we are born again and live according to God's will.
"Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."
Rom. 5:1
When we have this peace with God, we are safe in God's hands and God will never throw us into hell because of our sins because the Lord Jesus died on the cross to redeem us and make us righteous, it is up to us to trust God, confess our sins and live according to the will of God.
"And I will give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand."
John 10:28
Now that we are this safe and reconciled with God, God gives us another blessing Peace from God and this is something that someone who is not at peace with God will never get, and we need this peace every day in our lives, and we don't think and worry about the daily problems, we already enjoy communion with God who is close to us and who cares for us, we see from the whole verse that we just need to ask in prayer and finally give thanks.
"And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, to guard your hearts and your thoughts in the Lord Jesus."
Phil. 4:7
"The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving that your requests may be answered by God."
Phil. 4:6
,,...Grace and peace to you from Him who is, and who was, and who is to come; and of the seven spirits which are before His throne; And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful Witness, and the Firstborn from the dead, and the Prince of earthly kings, who loves us, and washes us from our sins with his own blood; And makes us kings and priests to God and his Father; to that glory and country for ever and ever. Amen."
Rev. 1:4-6
Below we see where grace and peace come from. Grace and peace is not a human creation as many try to portray or try to bring peace in some way through various activities or actions. We saw that grace and then peace come from God, and here we see that three times it is written that they come "from" the Father, from the Son and from the Holy Spirit.
Also in these verses we see that God is eternal because it is written, from Him who is, and who was, and who is to come" and similarly it is written in 4:8
"Holy, holy, holy Lord God Almighty, Who was, and who is, and who is to come."
Rev. 4:8
And now we could say this differently, God who has always been God until now, God who is God now and God who will always be, therefore, eternal God.
Here is another confirmed confirmation of what we said with a slight difference, it does not say "which will come" because here in the 11th chapter events from the future are described which are already here, therefore "future" is at this moment "present" and here we see the confirmation that in the Revelation the future events are still described for us, but John saw them as the present or even the past when they were shown to him, that's why it says "you will be" and not "which will come."
"We praise you, Lord God Almighty, who are, and were, and will be"
Rev. 11:17
Here is something else from the 16th chapter where we see something similar but it is written even in the past tense, that you judged this "so these are events from the time;; when the Lord Jesus came" for us it is still a perspective of the future but for John it was a perspective of the present, this is what today's modern reporters would say, "a report from the scene"
"You are righteous, Lord, who are, and who were, and holy, that you judged this"
Rev. 16:5
It goes on to say,,, and of the seven spirits that are before His throne"
This refers to the Holy Spirit, but it says "seven spirits" because seven is the number of perfection, fullness and completeness. Here, in fact, the fullness of the Holy Spirit is described because in Isaiah it is written about Jesus:
"And the Spirit of the Lord will rest on Him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and power, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord."
Isa 11:2
In several other places, the number seven is mentioned in relation to the Holy Spirit.
"And he said to me: What do you see? And I said: I see, behold, a candlestick all of gold, and a cup above it, and its seven jars on it, and seven funnels for the seven jars that are above it, and two olive trees by it, one on the right side of the cup and one from the left. And I spoke to the angel who spoke with me, and I said: What is it, my lord? And the angel who spoke with me answered and said to me: Don't you know what it is? And I said: No, my lord. And he answered and said to me, saying: This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel: not by force or by virtue, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts. What are you, great woe, before Zerubbabel? Ravnica; and he will bring out the highest stone, with exclamations: Mercy, mercy to him. And the word of the Lord came to me, saying: Zerubbabel's hands founded this house, his hands will finish it, and you will know that the Lord of hosts has sent me to you. For who has despised the day of small things? Because he will rejoice when he sees the measuring stone in the hand of Zerubbabel, those seven eyes of the Lord that cross the whole earth"
Zechariah 4:2-10
Here, from the sixth verse, we conclude that it is about the Holy Spirit, "not by power or virtue, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts."
"And I saw, and behold, in the middle of the throne and four animals, and in the middle of the elders the Lamb stood as if it had been slain, and it had seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven spirits of God sent throughout the world."
Rev. 5:6
Here we have seven spirits and seven eyes that refer to seven aspects of the work of the Holy Spirit that brings us God's graces, that is why Paul could write in the first Corinthians:
"The gifts are different, but the Spirit is one. And there are different ministries, but the Lord is one. And there are different forces, but there is one God who does everything in everything. And in everyone the Spirit appears for the benefit; For once the word of wisdom is given by the Spirit; and to another the word of understanding by the same Spirit; And to another faith, by that same Spirit; and to another the gift of healing, by that same Spirit; And to another to work miracles, and to another to prophesy, and to another to discern spirits, and to another different languages, and to another to speak in tongues. and he has many members, and all the members of one body, although they are many, they are one body: so is Christ"
1 Cor.12:4-12
"And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful Witness, and the Firstborn from the dead, and the Prince of the kings of the earth"
We have seen the entire Revelation that it is from the Lord Jesus to the church for encouragement, and here it says, "Faithful witness," and that is what the prophet Isaiah prophesied many years before
"Behold, I have given him as a witness to the nations, as a leader and commander to the nations."
Isaiah 55:4
and faithful because God is faithful and he can be unfaithful
,,,, God is not a man to lie, nor a son of man to repent. What does he say he won't do, and what he says he won't do?"
Numb. 23:19
"And so know that the Lord God is your God, a faithful God, who keeps his covenant and his mercy to a thousand knees to those who love him and keep his commandments."
Deut. 7:9
"And he raises the horn of salvation for us in the house of David his servant, as he says through the mouth of his holy prophets from the ages that he will deliver us from our enemies and from the hands of all who hate us; To show mercy to our fathers, and to remind ourselves of our holy covenant, the Curse with which he swore to Abraham our father that he would give us"
Luke 1:69-73
"God is faithful who has called you into the community of his Son Jesus Christ, our Lord."
1 Cor. 1:9
"No other temptation shall come upon you but that of man; but God is faithful, who will not let you be tempted beyond what you are able, but will also make an end with the temptation, so that you can bear it"
1 Cor. 10:13
"He who called you is faithful, and he will do it."
1 Sol. 5:24
And in Revelation it says more
"Thus says Amen, the Faithful and True Witness, the Beginning of God's creation"
Rev. 3:14
The Lord himself practically confirmed that he is faithful and that he came to testify to the truth
"I was born for that, and that's why I came into the world to bear witness to the truth. And everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice"
John 18:37
"and the Firstborn from the dead" here this does not mean that Jesus was the first to be resurrected because we read that there were people who were resurrected before Him but they later died again. Jesus was the first to be resurrected in a glorified body and He more he never did nor will he die, this part of the verse refers to these facts.
,, And this one, since he remains forever, has an eternal priesthood. That is why he can forever save those who come to God through him, when he always lives to be able to pray for them."
Hebrews 7:24-25
"and Prince over earthly kings" prince means ruler. Lord Jesus is ruler and prince from the beginning to the end, from creation to eternity, He is the faithful and true one from eternity, He is the firstborn in the glorified body and He is the eternal ruler and prince , He is King of kings and Lord of lords because he writes.
"And he has his name written on his robe and on his bosom: King of kings and Lord of lords."
Rev. 19:16
"He will rule from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth."
Psalm 72:8
"All kings will bow down to him, all nations will be submissive to him."
Psalm 72:11
"Who loves us" Jovan continues and says that God loves us permanently and does not say that he loved us, because then that would mean that he once loved us but that he may not love us now for some reason. we would not have permanent security of salvation because it might happen that Jesus returns and God returns at that very moment and we are left behind as they say, "we were unlucky". "so all the time, not sometimes or sometimes. He loves us all the time and that's because of the grace we talked about, we didn't deserve anything, neither salvation, nor the forgiveness of sins, nor life by grace, the only thing we deserved was to throw us into hell and that would be deserved because we do mostly what we shouldn't do. And not only does he not punish us, but makes us emperors and priests.
,, And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful Witness, and the Firstborn from the dead, and the Prince of earthly kings, who loves us, and washes us from our sins with his blood; And makes us kings and priests to God and his Father; to that glory and country for ever and ever. Amen."
Rev. 1:5-6
Jesus loved his own even in the most difficult moments before going to the cross, we read in John:
"And before the Passover, Jesus knowing that the hour had come for Him to pass from this world to the Father, as He loved His own who were in the world, He loves them to the end."
John 13:1
and this greatly impressed Paul, so he wrote:
"That you may understand with all the saints what is the breadth and length and depth and height, And know the love of Christ that surpasses reason, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."
Eph. 3:18-19
and this love of Jesus cannot be understood by human thinking, this is God's love that surpasses every mind.
"Because I know for sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor present, nor future, nor height, nor depth, nor any other substance can separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus , to our Lord."
Rom. 8:28-39
"And wash us from our sins in your blood" unlike a while ago where it is written in permanent time, now we have a part that has been completed in the past and that is finally there are no more new washings, once all the work Jesus finished and that happened on the cross of Golgotha ​​where we are redeemed once and for all by the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ. Of course, we need daily cleansing in the form of confession of sin, but not complete washing.
,, Jesus said to him: He who has been washed should not wash only his feet, because he is all clean; and you are clean, ..."
John 13:10
"And the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanses us from all sin."
1 John 1:7
So the blood of Jesus cleanses us from every sin and God will never mention what he cleansed again.
"And their sins and their iniquities I will no longer mention."
Hebrews 10:17
"And make us kings and priests to God and our Father" of course this is also by grace because this is unimaginable for us humans. We know what we are like and what we like to do, but still God does not deal with us according to our mistakes but makes us kings and priests.
"And you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy people, a people of gain, to announce the benefactors of the One who called you out of darkness to his strange light"
1 Peter 2:9
We therefore became the emperor's priests and now we all have direct access to God based on the merits of the Lord Jesus, unlike the people in the Old Testament where only the high priest had access to God once a year in the Holy of Holies and he did not have that access without a sacrifice that he had to make sacrifices.
For us, that sacrifice is the Lord Jesus Christ, and based on that sacrifice, we have constant access to God.
"To him glory and the country forever and ever." Amen." And now at the end, John wants to say that eternal glory, praise and power belong to Him who has given us so much grace and grace.

I finished Danganronpa Another 2, and I had some questions. I would appreciate if people could help me with any of them, even if not all can be answered. Heavy spoilers.

1) What does Sora’s level 30 skill, “Bird of Wisdom” do? I reached level 30 at the end of the 6^th case so never had a chance to check what it did. (I’m sad there is no chance post 6^th trial to just review your skills and the relationship notes with the other chars).
2) How was Sora able to see the real world when Akane’s body was dead and the game was shut down?
3) How is Sora Akane? They have different eye color, skin color, body shape, face shape, hair color, and Akane’s hair is relatively curly while Sora’s is straight. I would have thought that Sora was a fake avatar for the virtual world… but in the real world Akane’s body looks like an older Sora. I’m confused.
4) When did Sora start being able to use divine luck? It seems like it might have been case 3 with stopping the trial before identifying the correct killer. However, she hadn’t remembered anything about Akane Taira yet, so how did she have divine luck (and why didn’t another Void’s luck do anything first?)
a. Was this just Mikado’s programming to prevent a bad end early, and not actually divine luck yet?
5) How was Sora able to remember some of Akane’s memories, despite being an AI and not an AE? Were they coded into her?
6) This game takes place in a virtual world similar to the 2^nd main game, except later (presumably with more time for tech improvements). How is it possible that the players were able to come back to life in the 2^nd main game, but not in this one? It seems like the same situation as the 2^nd main game, only MORE optimistic. Utsuro’s/Akane’s/Sora’s luck is similar to Izuru’s skill, except the former don’t even need to take direct action. Also, the 2^nd fangame takes place after the 2^nd main game, so there might have been tech improvements in the meantime.
a. My best guess is that Mikado purposefully sabotaged the virtual world to ensure deaths, to increase the odds of Utsuro being reborn?
7) Is Utsuro’s divine luck based on his body, personality, mind, or something else? It seems to be both/either, as Mikado wanted Yuki’s mind to be like Utsuro to get the divine luck, but then said the luck was stored in Akane’s body… but then Sora got the luck because her AI program was… based off of Akane’s personality and memories? I’m still a little unclear how Sora got divine luck from Akane when she wasn’t directly related to her (she was an AI, not an AE). If it's just being similar in personality or body, how do other people not have divine luck by random similarities?
8) I’m also a little confused about the distinction of AI vs. AE in this game. Yes, I understand that the brain structure is different so Sora can’t be loaded into a human brain. However, if her brain is so different from a human’s due to not being an AE, how was she able to use divine luck?
9) Is the reason Teruya’s death wasn’t considered a suicide because he didn’t explicitly say: “I know this is poisoned, I am deliberately eating this poisoned food to kill myself”?
10) Will we ever learn Nikei’s backstory, like we did the other Voids?
11) Did the future foundation and the Kisaragi foundation ever collaborate/meet up? I can’t remember when/if they discussed it in-game.
12) Was there a need for Mikado to reduce Yuki to a head in a jar, or was it just spite/for the eviluz/ to make it harder to have him escape before Mikado’s plan completed?
13) Why didn’t Akane’s divine luck restore her brain, since it was capable of performing other miracles and curing other fatal diseases? Or at least, why didn’t it stop Mikado from doing his plan and killing the other students in the killing game? If it was weaker from her being in a coma, that doesn’t necessarily explain not healing her earlier, or how Mikado and the other void’s divine luck still could be used.
14) If Mikado had Kanade's memories/ a video of her killing her parents, why was her being a killer mentioned as being 'surprising to Mikado'? Was it just Syobai misunderstanding? Did Mikado not look at that video himself until the reveal somehow?
15) Less related to this game specifically, but, if there was a really long sword/weapon, and all but one student was holding onto the handle and pushed it forward to kill the last student at the same time, would they all be the blackened? Wouldn't that be a simpler method than what was done in the 3rd trial?
~Not so much questions, as personal headcanons/thoughts (feel free to contradict me if evidence goes against it though)~
15) I’m guessing that the reason Yuki was able to use Sora’s body after being uploaded is because the muscle degeneration from a long term coma was undone by divine luck.

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8. Can Change IP Address: I have multiple reliable VPN software including: NordVPN, SurfShark & ExpressVPN that allows me to successfully change my computer’s original New Jersey IP address to any major city in the U.S. & Canada to avoid raising red flags with students’ online class software.
9. Proctored Exam Help: I have developed multiple highly effective methods of helping students with exams, tests, and quizzes that are proctored by software like: Respondus Lockdown Browser with Webcam, Honorlock, Examity, Proctorio, Proctor360, Proctortrack, and ProProctor using 3 highly effective proven methods. Option 1 - WhatsApp: I use WhatsApp to have the student discreetly text me photos of the exam questions outside of the webcam’s view and I text them the correct solutions to the exam questions. Option 2 - Screen Share: Using screen share software like Zoom to see the student’s screen displaying the exam questions and I text the correct solutions. Option 3 - Remote PC Access & Control: Using remote computer access software like to control the student’s mouse and keyboard from my own computer.
10. Study Help Apps: I have over 15+ paid subscriptions to a wide range of study help apps, software, websites, and programs to help me solve exam & homework questions faster and more efficiently. Some of these resources include: Brainly, Chegg, CourseHero, Quizlet, SymboLab & WolframAlpha.
11. Calculators & Math Software: I have access to a very sophisticated graphing calculator and various mathematical software that provides step-by-step solutions to complex mathematical problems within seconds, allowing me to provide exact solutions to the student in a timely manner.
12. Test Taking Techniques: I have developed highly effective methods to determine the correct answers to questions that I’m not already familiar with including process of elimination, working backwards, quickly searching for similar questions online, and utilizing standardized test taking techniques taught only in elite standardized test prep tutoring programs.
13. Handwriting & Scanning Apps: I have impeccable handwriting and a high-quality mobile scanner app that allows me to scan written solutions in very legible high-definition JPG, PNG, and PDF formats.
14. Flexible Payment Methods: I offer negotiable rates, multiple payment methods (PayPal, Venmo, Cash App, Zelle, anonymous credit & debit card payments via online invoice), and flexible payment plans: weekly (most expensive), monthly, half-now / half-later, and all-up-front (least expensive).
15. Money Back Guarantee: I have won multiple academic awards for my exceptional skills & expertise in math. I guarantee overall A & B grades for all coursework completed. Plus. I also offer a 50% refund for C+, C, and C- scores, and a full 100% refund for D+, D, D-, and F scores.

HOW I CALCULATE FINAL RATES:

• Exams & Quizzes: Final rates for exams and quizzes depend on various factors including: whether or not there is proctoring, how many hours the exam is, total number of questions including sub-parts, preferred method of me delivering solutions, whether it's show all work or just the answer only, and whether the assessment has a flexible window of time to complete or a fixed & rigid start and end time.
• Full Courses: Final rates for full class help depend all the foregoing plus: total number of hw, quizzes, exams, discussion posts, and other academic tasks left that need to be completed, total number of weeks or modules left in the class to complete, and whether there is required multi factor authentication for logging in like Duo Push or text passcode.
• Essays Papers Discussion Posts: Final rates for writing tasks depend on the required number of words or pages. topic of interest, type of citations, required number and type of sources & bibliography style , level of research required, and type of additional software required to complete the essay like: Excel, R, or Minitab.

ABOUT MY RATES & PAYMENT OPTIONS:

• Rationale for My Rates: I sincerely believe my rates are more than fair considering my education, skills, native born U.S. resident status, legitimacy, and the substantial amount of value, stress relief, and saved time & energy I’d be providing you in exchange for my valuable, irretrievable time, energy, and effort.
• Disclaimer About Rates: Completing someone else's exam, essay, or homework assignment is obviously NOT something you can just freely ask anyone to do, especially on the internet. Therefore, such help should be well-compensated. Services that are reliable and deliver high-quality results are difficult to find and are very high in demand. Thus, I expect to be compensated fairly for all the value, stress relief, and saved time & energy my services provide. However, I may be willing to negotiate rates if necessary.
• Payment Methods: I accept PayPal (required for all Canadian students), Venmo, Zelle, Cash App, and anonymous credit & debit card payments via online invoice.
• Payment Plans: I offer the following payment plans for my services: weekly (most expensive), monthly, half-now / half-later, and all upfront (least expensive).
• Money Back Guarantee: I guarantee the following grades for coursework completed: A+. A, A-, B+, B. and B-. However, I offer a 50% refund for C+, C, and C- grades, and a full 100% refund for D+, D, D-, and F grades.

CURRENT RATES -- AS OF SUMMER / FALL 2022 -- SUBJECT TO CHANGE:

• Full Class Help Rates: $595 – $2495 USD
• Exam & Test Help Rates: $150 – $350 USD
• Quiz Help Rates: $60 – $180 USD
• HW Assignment Help Rates: $60 – $420 USD
• Essay & Paper Writing Help Rates: $19 – $29 USD per 300 words

THE OBLIGATORY "IS THIS A SCAM?" QUESTION:
Considering the fact that you found my contact information online, it’s understandable to be skeptical regarding the legitimacy of my services. Therefore, I’m willing to do all of the following to help you feel more secure in trusting me with your academic needs:

• Engage in a Telephone interview: Speak with you on the phone and answer any questions you may have so that you have the opportunity to assess and analyze my tone, articulation, and accent. I’m a New Jersey-born Irish/Italian-American, but I have been told that I speak in an erudite & articulate suburban American accent with a “professor style” voice somewhat resembling the voice of actor: Ben Stein.
• Provide Telephone References: Provide you with the contact information of students who have utilized my services in the past who would be more than willing to vouch for my skills.

MY REBUTTAL TO THE OBLIGATORY “IS THIS A SCAM?” QUESTION:
At the risk of sounding arrogant, I consider myself to be at least marginally more intelligent (both academically & socially) than the average person. Therefore, if I ever decided to suddenly risk prison time, risk my reputation, and risk enduring the wrath of modern-day “cancel culture” by scamming people out of their money:

• Not Worth the Money: I certainly wouldn’t do it for such paltry amounts of money. (i.e., anything less than $1,000 per victim.)
• Most Students are Broke: I certainly wouldn’t choose high school & college students as my “target audience” to scam, considering that most people without college degrees have abysmally low annual incomes.
• Waste of Time & Energy: Communicating back and forth with potential clients is an absurdly long time sink since only less than 10% of all potential clients who reach out to me actually become paying clients of mine.
• All My Payment Apps are Still Active: If you pay me to provide academic services and I don’t deliver, you can always dispute the payment with the payment app and easily get your money refunded. If I were in the habit of swindling money from people, then all of my payment accounts would have been investigated and be completely shut down by now.

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WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657
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CONCLUSION:

• My Mission: Thank you for taking the time to read my Reddit post. I take what I do very seriously and I always strive to get the highest possible grades for all students who entrust me with their coursework.
• Closing Words: Please feel free to reach out to me if you're sincerely interested in having help you with your school work. I am available via text, email, and call almost 24/7/365.

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Hi there, Welcome to citizen of the stars! + aUEC for my new recruits Here is my referral code (referral code: STAR-VW2G-GTQ9) in Star citizen to enter when creating your account. When you start your adventure, you will have a free bonus of 5000 UEC! Here is a direct link to create your account https://robertsspaceindustries.com/enlist?referral=STAR-VW2G-GTQ9 As an experienced player, I can help answer any questions regarding 3.22, ship sales, how CCU’s work, NPC Bounties, in-game mining, and how to save some money via warbonds on internet spaceships. Just send me a DM and Thanks. Also, if you decide to upgrade your ship(s) in the future, I can help guide you through the process of CCU chaining to save you a ton of money. Sage wisdom I wish I'd been taught years ago when I first started thinking about upgrading!

Throwaway account bc yeah, I’m also not going to be too specific. This is going to be quite lengthy but I want to cover all of this right now. Originally I entered the school which for obvious reasons I am not going to name with good intentions. It was the gateway to a successful life and I studied hard and did well in this challenging school all first semester. But alas I folded. With my foreign language’s class grade dropping rather suddenly I looked for a way to cheat on our tests and quizzes which are daily. Quite easily I found that our software used to take tests had quite a few flaws. My original discovery which by now has gone rampant through my school was bringing in text through the clipboard. although the win + v shortcut was disabled if you take the keyboard off our computers that were school provided the on screen keyboard supplied a button to access it. I then found a way to screen record in our testing software using some custom html code that I wrote. I shared this with a notorious cheater in our school and we agreed to team up. I then over the next couple of weeks began to make a crew of kids that I was friends with all with the goal of cheating. We would record 1st period in classes and then scramble to make it into a clipboard to use on the quiz/test clipboard worked for the majority of our third quarter but it became somewhat rampant in our school and eventually everyone knew about it. I decided clipboard what not safe to use anymore and shortly after that a kid was caught using it. After that there was a kind of in between period where clipboard was able to be used in other classes just not the formerly mentioned foreign language class. I decided I was going to go all in. I needed to make something that could bypass this software. I started by gaining a local admin account on my school computer by using the commonly known “utilman” trick. Then in the following weeks I developed an injection program that was able to bypass the software. It allowed the user to switch windows with a specific hotkey. Now this group had been perfected or atleast I thought it had. We would record, make a doc with all the answers, and then cheat using the method I just mentioned. I do not know how but people began talking about recording and even though they did not know how it works it worried me. I began to search for other ways incase this was ever found out. I then made a modified version of a Remote Desktop software that was able to be used during the tests. Now someone else is able to take one of my friends’ quizzes and ace it for them. This is where this story currently ends. We are talking about cheating on exams which is a pretty difficult task as they are very heavily proctored.

Club Vlad sat near the confluence of Central Avenue and Washington Avenue, Albany’s two main thoroughfares. Two stories with blackout windows and a box office from when it used to be a movie theater, it was swarmed with people when Dom first spotted it ahead. He was somewhat familiar with it: He passed it every day on his way to work, and it was always busy around his time of evening, even on weeknights. Part of him always wanted to go inside and be a part of the scene, but he never did.
The man in sunglasses - his name was Joe - led Dom toward the club, and even before Joe spoke, Dom somehow knew that it was their destination. “There,” Joe said. “We’ll go around back.”
Dom and Joe had been walking for what seemed like an hour but couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. Dom stuck as close to Joe as possible as if for protection, and had become accustomed to his pungent smell. It was noticeable only at extremely close range, part sickly sweet and part…something else, something Dom could not place but still somehow recognized. They were two blocks from the club, maybe three, and Dom could hear the pulsing techo/house/whatever music as clearly as if he were standing in the middle of the dancefloor. He could hear the chatter of the people inside, or at least he imagined he could. He could smell them too: Beneath the odors of perfume, desperation, and spiritual rot was something richer, something blissful. Dom realized for the first time that he was parched - so parched - and drool filled his mouth.
A crowd of people waited outside Club Vlad, talking and laughing; some vaped, some stared down at their cellphones like Gollum with his precious ring. Dom’s first reaction was to avoid them. Perhaps sensing this…or perhaps feeling it himself…Joe ducked into an alleyway two doors down from the club. “We’ll go in the back,” Joe explained.
The back entrance to Club Vlad was a single door underneath a bare bulb. The music was so loud that Dom’s head began to throb. Inside, a dark hallway terminated in an archway filled with throbbing white light. Dread filled Dom as they approached it - he didn’t want to be around people - but thankfully they went into a room off the hall instead. An office. A cramped desk, a filing cabinet. A set of stairs disappeared into shadows.
“Sit,” Joe said.
Dom obeyed, sitting in the swivel chair.
Joe went up the stairs and Dom was alone. The deep coldness that had long settled into his bones made itself known again, and Dom leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his chest for warmth. The muffled music vibrated in his skull, setting his teeth on edge, and the various smells wafting in from the main room assaulted his senses. He was alternately repulsed and aroused by the crashing din of scents: The good, the bad, and the mouth watering. A sharp pain cut through his stomach like the killing edge of a knife, and Dom hugged himself tighter. Had his throat always been this dry? His throat felt like sandpaper; his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and getting it unstuck hurt so badly that tears sprang to his eyes.
Dom rubbed his arms with his hands and tried to still his chattering teeth. He looked around for a blanket, a discarded jacket, something to cover himself with, but there was nothing. Only drifts of glitter on the floor and walls. He supposed it came from a party or something. He’d never been to a night club but it seemed fitting.
A sound drew his attention to the door leading back into the hall. A woman - no older than a girl - stood there, looking confused and unsteady. She was dressed in black, wore glow sticks around her wrists and neck, and held a red solo cup. “I have to pee,” she said drunkenly and laughed. “I thought this was the bathroom.”
A cold wind washed over Dom, and Joe was standing next to him. “The bathroom’s up here,” he said.
“Oh, good,” the girl laughed, “I thought it was here but I didn’t know. This is my first time here.” She held her cup aloft. “Take me to it.”
Joe glanced at Dom. “Come on.”
They formed a party as they climbed the stairs, Dom in the tear and Joe at the head. The girl stumbled and held onto the railing, talking incessantly. Her voice hurt Dom’s head, but the hot smell wafting from her was intoxicating. Drool coursed down his chin and his breathing came in short, hot bursts. Another sharp pain rent his stomach, and he winced.
At the top of the stairs, where the lights were cold and white, a woman in black stood by a doorway, her back ramrod straight and her eyes vacant. Her face was gaunt, her white flesh pulled tight across her skull. She wore a black dress and her black hair long and straight. Dom only caught a glance at her before looking away again.
She looked like a ghost.
“Show her the bathroom,” Joe said.
The woman’s eyes slowly, ponderles, went from Joe to the drunk girl. Her expression, like Joe’s, was dead. She had no expression. “This way.”
She and the drunk girl disappeared down the hall, and Joe led Dom into a room. Though it was pitch black, Dom could still see; not very well…but he could see. Suddenly, a blinding white light flicked on in front of him, causing him to stop and fall back a step. Ahead, through an archway, sat a vaulted chamber, at the center of which sat a man. To Dom’s light dazzled eyes, he seemed a proud king perched upon a throne, the skulls of his many enemies piled around him. Dom blinked and turned his head slightly to the side. His eyes began to adjust, and the world came into focus.
The man was not, as it had first seemed, sitting on a throne. Instead, he was esconded in a motorized wheelchair. The piles of skulls were actually various pieces of machinery, the kind you’d find in a hospital room. A clear tube extended from one of them to the side of the man’s neck: Yellow liquid flowed from the machine and into the man. Another tube, this one in the other side of his neck, filtered out a mixture of what looked like yellow pus and black sludge. An infected malodor filled the air, and the machines whirred softly as they worked.
As for the man himself, his appearance was normal at first glance, Dressed in a flowing red velvet robe, a blue and green blanket with a plaid pattern draped over his shoulders, he was portly, about fifty, and had shoulder length grayish hair with a bald spot in the middle. If the local theater put on a production of Hamilton, they could cast a worse Ben Franklin than him.
On closer inspection, he was not normal at all. His complexion was yellow and waxy, like a statue, and his body was lumpy, misshapen, resembling an overfilled trash bag stuffed with cotton. His eyes were sick and yellow, and something about his posture seemed…off. It didn’t make sense, but the only thing Dom could think was: He looks impossible.
Joe stopped at the edge of the shadows, where the line between light and darkness lay. He seemed to stand up a little straighter, a general greeting his king. “Here he is,” Joe said.
The man squinted slightly against the glare of the light and motioned with one gnarled hand. “Step into the light,” he said. His voice was soft and kind, that of a senile though loving grandmother. Dom imagined he felt a pull toward the man, and did as he was bidden, wincing as the light stung his eyes.
For a moment, the man stared at him, his waxen features frozen fast as stone. Then, a subtle look of compassion flickered across his face. Dom did not believe in God, but he suddenly felt like a man standing before God, his every thought, feeling, and transgression laid bare. He had never felt so naked in his life, so exposed. He had the sense that the man before him could see everything, knew everything.
“You’ve been through a lot,” the man said. It was not a question, but a statement.
Everything Dom had been through over the past couple of days came back to him in a rush, and hot tears filled his eyes. He nodded.
The man nodded slightly, more to himself than to Dom. “Kneel down,” he said, “I want to look at you.”
Dom knelt without question.
The man lifted one hand and touched Dom’s face, tilting Dom’s head from one side to the other like a farmer appraising a horse. His fingers were long and bony, his nails ragged and unkempt; his touch was like ice. He brushed his knuckles over the purple bruise on Dom’s cheek, and there was such gentleness in that one act that Dom broke down sobbing. He leaned into the man’s touch like a cat and gave voice to his misery.
“Shhh,” the man said, “it’s all over now.”
“W-What’s happening to me?” Dom asked.
In his heart of hearts, however, he already knew.
“You died,” the man said patiently. “And you came back.”
Hearing it stated so plainly, Dom cried even harder.
“Only a handful of people throughout history can claim to have defeated death,” the man said, stroking Dom’s hair, “and you’re one of them. You should be proud.”
“How?” Dom asked between sobs. “What am I?”
The man stroked Dom’s cheek. “You’re the same thing I am.”
At that, Dom looked up at the man. “What are you?” he asked.
A little, knowing smile touched the man’s lips, and when he spoke, his canine teeth were longer and sharper than before. “I’m a vampire.”
“No,” Dom moaned and shook his head, “no, no, no.” He grabbed the man’s hand and held tight, his tears coming faster. He trembled like a frightened animal and squeezed his eyes closed, as if by doing so he could escape the hell his life had become.
But there was no escape.
“You have a lot of questions,” the man said, monologuing now rather than speaking directly to Dom, “I had the same questions when I was your age. I have spent the last forty-two years of my life trying to answer them, but every answer I find leads me to still more questions. There’s one thing I’m certain of, though.”
Dom blinked the tears from his eyes. The last of them had been squeezed from his dead tear ducts and he had no more to give. He simply stared into space, trying to come to grips with his situation.
“There is freedom in death,” the man said. “Death is easy. It’s simple. Once it’s over, you feel no pain, no sadness, no grief. It’s living that’s hard.”
As he spoke, he brushed his long nails across Dom’s scalp. It was a soothing feeling, and served to calm him. “People have so many troubles.” A note of revulsion crept into his voice. “So many needs, so many desires. People are complex but we’re not. We’re easy to please. A vampire wants only two things: A little blood and one more night.”
The combination of his touch and his voice had pacified Dom to the point of almost tranquility. “I’m scared,” Dom heard himself mumble.
Nodding almost reluctantly, the man said, “Fear is one of the only emotions a vampire can’t escape. Everything feels fear. Do you want to know a secret?”
Dom nodded.
“I’m afraid too,” the man confessed. “I’m afraid of death. Well…death as it were. I’m terrified that my body will rot away and leave me a pile of bones somewhere, unable to move but still aware”
A shudder went through Dom.
“As I’m sure you’ve seen yourself, the movies lied. We rot just like any other dead thing. Our flesh decays, our organs turn to sludge, and we go from rational men to monsters whose only thought is feeding.”
Now it was his turn to shiver.
“But…you’re not like that,: Dom said.’
The man smiled. “I’m lucky, I guess” A thin yellow fluid began to drip from his nostrils. He did not seem to notice. “What is your name?”
“Dominick,” Dom said.
“I’m Merrick,” the man said, “and this is my family.”
Dom realized that they were now surrounded by others, ten in all. They stood ramrod straight, their eyes vacant and their faces devoid of humanity. They were mainly men, though one was a woman. Some were pale, others were blue or black, and one was little more than a skeleton clad in withered brown skin, a white button up and jeans hanging from its frame.
A thought occurred to Dom. “You said my brain was going to rot…”
“Not necessarily,” Merrick cautioned, “though it’s possible.”
“Am I going to be…?”
“Like them?” Merrick asked. “Braindead and staring?”
Sheepishly, Dom nodded.
“Maybe,” Merrick allowed. “But these people are free of everything that troubles humanity. You were human just a short time ago. I’m sure you remember all too well what it was like. The constant politics, the moral quandaries, the philosophical pontificating. Human beings - and make no mistake, we are humans - were not meant for all of that. We’re animals. We were made to hunt, fuck, and sleep. Somewhere along the way, we got pretentious and started complicating things.” He looked at Dom, sizing him up, seeming to read him. “Things that animals take for granted, people work their entire lives to achieve. If an animal wants to fornicate, it fornicates. If a man wants to fornicate, he needs to be tall, handsome, rich, funny, progressive when it suits women but traditional when it doesn’t. If a man wants a home, he has to work thirty years for it. An animal has only to dig a hole in the ground.”
Every word struck a chord with Dom.
Because every word was true.
“Unfortunately, the living won’t allow us to live that freely, so we have to hide. These people here - my children - need a guiding hand, a protector, someone who can lead them. And I, an old man, need help.” Here he smiled playfully and patted his bulging stomach. “My body is mostly sawdust and cotton balls at this point, so I can’t do much. I share my wisdom and my knowledge with them, and they take care of me.”
“Why haven’t you…rotted?” Dom asked.
“Embalming fluid,” Merrick said. “Blood doesn’t sustain you. Embalming fluid does.” He smiled at Dom. “It can sustain you as well. If you’ll stay with us. We’re not the most attractive bunch, but we’re a family, and we really wish you’d join us.”
A family.
Dom’s parents had broken up and he lived with his mother. He had never had a family before, and had always wanted one, a real one, like in the movies. Even as a grown man, he sought the love, acceptance, and belonging that a family brings. He sought it in the wrong ways, but that - and not sex, not romantic love - is what he had really wanted all along.
This is what he had wanted all along.
“I want to,” Dom said.
Working quickly, Merrick slashed his wrist open with his thumbnail. An ugly mixture of stale blood, siphoned from someone else, and embalming fluid leaked out. “If you choose to drink, my blood will be in you. You will be my son and I will be your father. You will obey me as your father. You will do whatever is asked of you for this family, as this family will do for you. You will not reveal the secrets of this family to anyone outside of it. You will protect this family from all threats, both inside and out. Do you accept?”
He held his bleeding wrist out to Dom.
Dom did not question, nor did he hesitate. He grabbed the hand of his father, brought it to his mouth, and drank from the seeping wound. The fluid was cold, thick, and vile.
It tasted like belonging.
“Have you fed yet?”
“No,” Dom said.
“Before you do, I have a question for you. Who did this to you? Who made you?”
Dom thought. Everything was hazy. “Was it someone in this room?” Merrick asked.
Dom shook his head. “Her name is…” he wracked his brain. “Heather.”
Merrick nodded. “So there’s another out there.” He looked at Joe. “Did you turn her?”
“Yes,” Joe said.
Merrick looked annoyed. “I’ve told you not to go out and feed on your own. You have no self-control. You drink too much and create others, which creates headaches for the family. Tomorrow night, I want you and Dom to find her and bring her here.” “Okay,” Joe said.
Merrick looked over Dom’s shoulder. “Jess? Can you come here?”
The black haired woman from earlier came out of the shadows, the drunk girl with her, arms tied behind her back. The girl looked dazed. “Max,” Merrick said to the skeletal corpse-thing, “help her.”
Max, Jessie, and another vampire named Matt tied chains around the girl’s ankles and hoisted her aloft via a pulley system. Upside down, she swung back and forth. Merrick instructed the others to leave the room. “Max,” he said.
On his way out, the corpse-thing produced a knife and dragged it across the girl’s throat, slicing her skin; blood spurted out. Max leaned in to taste it, but Merrick shooed him away. When he and Dom were alone, Merrick told Dom, “Go to her.”
But Dom was already on his feet, his eyes transfixed by the crimson life flowing from her pumping throat. The hot, rich smell filled his nostrils and tantalized his senses. Saliva filled his mouth and his stomach panged with hunger. Some small, human part of his decaying brain screamed at him to stop, but he did not listen to it. He had been human for almost thirty years, and he had been miserable. Now, in this chamber of the undead, he gave himself over to his dark thirst. Like a man in a dream, he shuffled to her, inhaled the sweet scent of her blood, and shivered. He was so lost in lust that he hardly noticed the strange, cumbersome feeling of his descended fangs.
“Drink,” Merrick said.
Opening his mouth wide, Dom sank his teeth into the girl’s neck. Her blood filled his mouth and splashed down his throat. Warmth thawed the ice in his marrow and spread through him. His dead heart began to flutter, then to pound. His knees shook, his body trembled, and his mind rolled away on a tide of ecstasy.
As it was his first meal, he couldn’t drink much. Before long, his stomach was hard and distended and his body burned with fire. He collapsed to a heap on the floor and twitched as random nerve endings, stimulated by the blood, began to misfire. He felt full, warm, and drunk. He closed his eyes and let himself drift.
Dominick Mason had died.
And this…
This was heaven.
***
With all that was happening in the city of Albany, the last thing Bruce Kenner needed on Thursday morning was a visit from Bertha the bitch, but that’s exactly what he got. She flew into his office like she owned the place and instantly started in on him. Young man this and have you talked to Joe Rossi that. You’d think she was his boss. And if she were his boss, he’d quit and find another line of work. He heard McDonald’s was hiring.
Bruce almost snapped at her. He’d been up most of last night riding around Albany and looking for Dominick Mason. He and Vanessa expected him to drop dead somewhere close to the medical examiner’s office, but if he had, he’d done so in a super secret location.
“I’ve been busy,” Bruce said, “but I’m going to go by his place of work today.”
Tired and still confused over that bullshit from last night, he had no energy to argue with the old crone. He could spare a few minutes to talk to Joe Rossi, he figured. He assumed that Jessie was safe but he owed it to her to check. If he found the girl, he’d take her back to her grandmother (sorry, kid, really) and try to avoid arresting the guy. Unless he came off as a creep, then he’d bust his ass. See, people assumed that an older guy with a younger girlfriend was some master manipulator hell bent on evil deeds. Sometimes they were, but hell, his grandparents married when his grandpa was twenty-one and his grandma sixteen. They were married for fifty-five years and loved each other to the end. Maybe it was innocent, maybe not. It wasn’t his job to judge either way. Just gimme the girl so I can get her grandma off my back and no one gets hurt.
“It’s about time you started doing your job,” Bertha said, “I heard on the police scanner last night that you people lost a body. What kind of town is this? Your coroner is a drunk who makes up stories about bodies walking away. He probably sold it to black people.”
Bruce couldn’t help it; he snorted laughter.
“Now what would black people want with a dead body?”
“Probably to use it as a prop in one of their rap videos.”
Bruce didn’t know much about music videos, but he was pretty sure that the people who made them didn’t like the smell of corpse any more than the rest of us. “I’ll be sure to round up all the local rappers for questioning. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Luckily for him, there was not, and Bertha left shortly thereafter. Alone and able to hear himself think, Bruce sat back in his chair and went over his mental checklist for the day. First order of business, go to Club Vlad. Second, find Dominick Mason. There were others, but that was the most important. He wanted the body found so someone could get to work explaining this whole weird thing. There had to be an explanation. The thought that there wasn’t, that a dead guy literally rose from the grave and disappeared into the night, deeply disturbed Bruce, and the more this whole thing remained ongoing, the more disturbed he would become.
Needing some fresh air, he decided to hit up Club Vlad.
Outside, the day was hot and sunny. Waves of heat shimmered from the pavement and not a single breath of air stirred in the whole world. Bruce slipped on a pair of sunglasses and drove over to Club Vlad. It occurred to him that the place might be closed during the day; it was the only place Joe Rossi was associated with. His address in the computer system was Glens Falls, far to the north. The messages he sent Jessie indicated that he lived onsite at Club Vlad.
The build, wedged between a corner store and a check cashing place, was as grimy and dumpy looking as it had always been. The front windows were blacked out and covered with posters and fliers for punk concerts, house bands, and far left political organizations: The Albany Social Justice Center, something called Bash the Fash 2025, and Bruce’s favorite. ACAB. He caught some kid spraying that on the side of the police station once, and under extreme police torture (ie, a good tongue lashing), the kid told him it meant All Cops Are Barnacleheads.
Bruce shot the kid on the spot and planted a gun on him.
How's that for barnaclehead?
Calm down, he didn’t really do that. He made him clean the graffiti off with a toothbrush. LOL he was out there for hours.
The sidewalk in front of the former theater was empty save for some little. The box office was abandoned. There was no open sigh, but then again, there was no closed sign either. He parked his cruiser at the curb, killed the engine, and got out, sweat instantly springing to his brow.
To his surprise, the door opened. Inside, a couple steps led down to a dance floor. A bar lined the wall to his right, and a couple more sets led up to a railed platform filled with tables. Above, a huge balcony looked down on him. A giant disco ball hung from the ceiling like a pair of glittery nuts and there were cages here and there. Presumably where girls danced go-go style. Oh yeah, nothing hotter than a woman behind bars. Why do you think Bruce became a cop in the first place?
Speaking of glittery nuts, there was glitter everywhere. On the floor, on the tables, on the bar. It twinkled like flecks of diamond and swirled around your feet when you walked. Bruce imagined big buckets of the stuff raining down on the dance floor at midnight and he shuddered. Imagine having glitter stuck in your hair. That shit would never come out.
Music played from the sound system, not as loud as it would be during operating hours. It sounded like ‘80s metal, not exactly what he expected from a place like this.
Some say life she's a lady
Kinda soft, kinda shady
I can tell you life is rich
She's no lady, she's a bitch
Being morning, the place was deserted except for a man behind the bar, busy at cleaning the countertop in anticipation for the night’s events. He was tall, Hispanic or Italian, and feminine, with a single earring and a tank top.
Bruce moseyed over to the bar and the barkeep looked up, missing a beat when he realized the fuzz was here. He sat down his rag and walked over. “Can I help you?” he asked in a whispy voice.
“Yeah,” Bruce said, “I’m looking for Joe Rossi. Is he here?”
“I don’t know,” the bartender said. He looked nervous. “I can check.”
Before Bruce could answer, he scurried off, leaving him alone.
They suck my body out
But friend there is no doubt
I'm gonna pay the devil his dues
Cause I'm sick of being abused
Bruce looked around, his fingers absently drumming on the countertop. Club Vlad was a clashing mix of grunge and glam that made his head hurt. He imagined what the place must be like at midnight, packed and noisy, and nodded to himself. Yeah, this was the spot, he guessed, the place all the cool kids went, if they went anywhere anymore. Hell, if he was thirty years younger, he might come here.
He had been waiting for almost twenty minutes when a voice spoke behind him. He turned with a start, and beheld the strangest man he had ever seen in his life. Short and plump - lumpy, even - he sat in a wheelchair, a red blanket draped over his shoulders and his hands resting on his knees. He was about fifty with sparse gray hair falling to his shoulders and a plastic-looking face. He looked like a wax statue of Ben Franklin come to life, and a deep sense of disquiet stirred in the pit of Bruce’s stomach.
Just can't fight the temptation
It's become my inspiration
Gonna get myself an axe
Break some heads, break some backs
It was only then that Bruce noticed the sickly sweet smell of death.
It seemed to come from the man in waves.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the man said, “my name is Merrick Garvis and I own Club Vlad. Maybe I can be of assistance.”
Bruce grew up in the south where manners and saving face were paramount. His mother and his grandmother both taught him that it was impolite to stare. Maybe he'd been in New York so long that he’d forgotten himself, or maybe Merrick Garvis was just the strangest looking man in the world. Either way, Bruce couldn’t help gaping at his strange appearance. Recovering, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I -”
Merrick smiled and waved one hand. Why was it so goddamn skeletal? “Don’t worry. I was injured in a fire a long time ago and this is the best they could do for me. To be honest, I’d stare too. What can I help you with, officer?”
“I’d like to talk to Joe Rossi,” Bruce said. “I understand he works for you.”
“He did,” Merrick said, “but I had to let him go. Did he do something wrong?”
Bruce sighed. “Well, yeah, he’s shacked up with a sixteen year old runaway.”
A look of concern crossed Merrick’s features, such as they were. “Oh, my, that is concerning. I haven’t seen him in several days. I assume he went home. He lives in Glens Falls.”
Bruce nodded, his mind working. If Rossi really was in Glens Falls, that meant the whole mess was someone else’s problem. He could send Bertha up there to bother some other poor barnacle head and be rid of her. Yet…he didn’t think Rossi was in Glens Falls. Bruce had a knack for knowing when people were lying, and he was certain that Merrick Garvis was doing just that. It couldn’t be a facial tick, as his features were largely unmoving, like clay. Maybe it was something in his cloudy eyes. Maybe it was the tone of his voice. Or maybe Bruce had the shining and knew things just for the hell of it. In any event, the certainty that Merrick Garvis was lying grew stronger with each passing second.
“Why’d you fire him?”
“He got drunk and hit one of the customers.”
“What did he do?” Bruce asked. “What was his position?”
“He was a bouncer.”
“Aren’t bouncers supposed to hit people?”
Merrick fumbled. “Well…not to punch them in the face for bumping into them.”
“How long did he work for you?”
“Six months.”
“Did you ever see him with an underage girl?”
“Of course not,” Merrick said, “you have to be twenty-one to get in. I make sure everyone’s ID is checked at the door.”
“What if she had a fake ID?”
“Then I guess she’d get in, but I’d assume she was of legal age.”
“You said he shoved someone, when did this happen?”
“Last week,” Merrick said.
“I thought you said he hit someone.”
Merrick again fumbled. “I did.” Now his face seemed to darken a little. A strange yellowish liquid, too thin to be snot, began to drip from his nostrils. Bruce barely suppressed a smear of disgust. “I understand you have a job to do but playing mind games with me isn’t going to solve anything. I can give you his address. Other than that, I can’t help you further.”
“Fair enough,” Bruce said. “But I’d like to see your ID please.”
Merrick glared at him. “I suppose you want my name, rank, and serial number as well.”
“Actually, yeah, I’d love that.”
Merrick drew a deep sigh. “Okay.”
In five minutes, Bruce had Merrick’s ID, social, and all other relevant information. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have bothered, even though he was well within his rights to ask for this information from someone he was questioning. But something about Merrick Garvis was off, and not just his weird face or strangely bulbous body. Bruce was just smart enough to realize that something was going on here, but not quite smart enough to even begin to imagine what.
When he had everything he needed and saw no reason to stick around, Bruce bid Merrick farewell and left the club. Before he could do anything else, he got a call from dispatch: Officer needed assistance in Pine Hills. Bruce slipped behind the wheel and went forth to help, momentarily putting Merrick Garvis out of his mind.
But soon or later, he would get back to him.
Oh yes he would.

https://bgodinspired.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/1715792015.png

Introduction: The Power of “But God” in Your Life

Have you ever felt cornered by circumstances, with seemingly no way out? Have you been on the brink of giving up hope, only to experience an unexpected turn of events? In the narratives of the Bible, two words repeatedly signal such dramatic turns: “But God”. These simple words signify God’s mighty interventions on behalf of His people. Today, let’s explore how these two words can change everything in your life, offering hope, providing guidance, and demonstrating God’s unfailing love and power.

Understanding the Impact of “But God” in the Bible

The phrase “But God” appears numerous times throughout the Bible, each instance highlighting a pivotal moment where God’s intervention radically alters the outcome of a situation. Here are a few powerful examples:

• Genesis 50:20: Joseph speaks to his brothers after they sold him into slavery. What was meant for evil against him, “But God” used for good, to save many people.
• Acts 2:24: Describes the crucifixion of Jesus, mentioning that though He was killed, “But God” raised Him from the dead, freeing Him from the agony of death because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on Him.
• Ephesians 2:4-5: While we were dead in our trespasses, made alive together with Christ — by grace you have been saved. The “But God” here emphasizes the transition from death to life, highlighting God’s mercy and love.

Each “But God” moment in the Bible showcases a divine reversal, turning despair into hope, death into life, and defeat into victory. These powerful interventions remind us of the sovereignty and the loving nature of God.

Applying “But God” Principles in Your Life

So, how can we apply the principles of “But God” in our daily lives? Here are a few ways:

• Embrace Hope: Even when situations seem dire, remember the “But God” moments in the Bible. They teach us that no matter the circumstances, God has the power to change our situations.
• Trust in Divine Intervention: Lean not on your own understanding but trust that God can intervene in ways you cannot fathom. He has done it before, and He can do it again in your life.
• Seek Wisdom and Guidance: Whenever you find yourself at a crossroads, remember the “But God” principle. Seek God’s wisdom and guidance through prayer and His Word.

By incorporating these principles into our lives, we remind ourselves that we are not alone. God is always ready to intervene on our behalf, turning our trials into testimonies.

Conclusion: Transform Your Life with “But God”

The phrase “But God” is a beacon of hope, a reminder that no matter how challenging the situation, God’s presence and power can change everything. Let these words encourage you today. Whenever you feel overwhelmed, remember the countless “But God” moments in the Bible and know that He is with you, ready to turn your situation around for good. Embrace the hope, trust in His divine intervention, and seek His guidance. Let “But God” transform your life.
Ready to experience the transformative power of “But God” in your life? Begin by diving deeper into His Word and watch as He turns your trials into triumphs. Share your story, engage with a community of believers, and witness how “But God” can change everything. The journey is yours to begin.
If you want to want to research more Bible Answers on your own, please try our Bible Answers GPT. It’s easy to get lost in the interesting responses you’ll find… every search is like a new treasure hunt 🙂
Source =

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen… this is Aron Orsos. Tonight we have a special guest, a prominent lord has gained a lot of fame and attention, Duke Vasily Kardos!”
“It’s an honour to be on the show.” Vasily said.
“Just recently we ended the over a decade long ordeal of the regency. You were in the running to be made king but his serene highness Farkas Arany won out, what do you think of the outcome?”
“I did not win, and it would be a lie to say I’m happy about not being given the honour, but Farkas is a capable King without a doubt. For the time being the crown is in very safe hands.”
“For the time being?”
“Yes, we can never know how a dynasty turns out, one can only hope his children and grandchildren share the same wisdom, because that is what the new house of Arany is founded on, not any sort of lineage.”
“You attended the coronation?” Orsos asked.
“Of course I did, as any good patriot would, paying my respects to the king. It was spectacular. Is it not true you are distantly related to Gergo or Georg Orsos, his serene highness’ son in law?”
“Cousin Gergo yes. Distant cousins. Speaking of cousins, would you care to comment about the incident at the coronation?”
“Oh yes, when my cousin Heinrich, the current leader of the PLP, attacked me and got escorted out of the Remar Basilica. We’ve never liked each other. He just decided he didn’t like the way I looked and attacked me, who knows what was going on inside his head?”
“He gives a contradictory story.”
“And what else is he going to say?” Vasily answered, “Even if it was true, which it isn’t, he still attacked me, not just in the most holy place in our nation but during the coronation of the King he so professes to support. At bare minimum you take this kind of matter outside, but he couldn’t control himself.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I have never voted Progressive-Labour.” Vasily chuckled, “Jokes aside, this stems from a centuries old succession dispute. There has always been a bit of a dislike, but I’d say it’s more so about modern politics. I am a conservative, a man of caution and tradition, whereas he is a radical, a demagogue seeking to undermine what makes our country great.”
“In your view, what makes our country great?”
Vasily gave a firm answer, “Our faith, our traditions and our families, which his party votes to overturn on a regular basis, in the name of social progress, the idea that our way of life needs to radically change to suit the whims of a few deluded foreign intellectuals. Allying with the communists in the old Labour Party as well, just distasteful. You can have your disagreements with the other parties but throwing your lot in with the communists is unacceptable.”
While he didn’t express his opinion verbally, Orsos nodded his head in agreement, as a man of the conservative establishment, “Speaking of family, you just got married.”
“Yes, by his holiness the Archbishop of Domi himself. I married the love of my life, Annalise. She completes me in ways I never thought possible. We’re going to go on our honeymoon soon.”
“Where will that be to?” Orsos inquired.
“Oh all around Vuldavia, whether it is presently in our hands or not.”
“I hope you and Annalise enjoy that. This is a very beautiful place.”
“We will, thank you.”
The two went on about current events for a bit, before wrapping up. Aron Orsos giving the conclusion as much flourish as when he started.

TLDR: The actual evidence from multiple lines of afterlife research, when viewed through a non-spiritual, non-religious, secular filter, can clear up many mistaken, uninformed ideas about what we call "the afterlife."
Where do the following answers come from? Years of research into the many different categories of afterlife investigation that have been conducted for over 100 years and from around the world through a completely secular lens, without disregarding any evidence or trying to make any of it fit into any preconceived spiritual or religious ideas, or using any popularized narratives one might find in the media.
1: "We don't have physical bodies in the afterlife." - This is simply not true. There are countless accounts from the dead themselves that involve not only their own physical bodies there, but describe a world that is as physical as this world. They (and those that visit that world while alive here) often describe it as even more solid, and more real, than this world. The described their homes, the landscape around their homes, their physical activities like eating, drinking, going out with friends, hiking, learning to play musical instruments, going to concerts, libraries, going swimming, walking, drives, having intimate relationships, etc.
Yes, some people do report not having physical bodies, but this just means there are more ways of existing, and many different kinds of environments in what we call "the afterlife." It's is not just one kind of place where we all exist the same way, doing the same things.
2: "Nobody knows if there is an afterlife or what it is like." This is probably the most repeated myth in this subreddit. This is just a lack of critical thinking and/or projecting one's own lack of information/knowledge as some kind of universal condition. Millions of people know there is an afterlife and know what it is like, at least in general terms, including many scientists.
3: "Science says there is no afterlife." Just no. No it does not. There are many different categories of scientific research into the afterlife and evidence gathered from every one of these indicate the same thing: that consciousness continues after death into some kind of afterlife existence. Often people mistake the comments of certain scientists who are ideological materialists/physicalists for "what science says." This is just another lack of critical reasoning.
4. "If the afterlife had been demonstrated to exist, everyone would know." This is just an appeal to popular knowledge and/or an erroneous appeal to authority. The actual authorities in the necessary field of expertise - afterlife research - pretty much unanimously agree that the existence of the afterlife has been demonstrated via multiple vectors of supportive research. If you are wondering why this knowledge is not broadcast all over mainstream media or other authoritative outlets, and insist that if it were true it would have been, you are once again failing to use any critical reasoning.
The information and evidence about the afterlife not only contradicts the ideological beliefs of scientists in positions of authority in the various institutions of science and academia (largely materialism/physicalism,) it also contradicts the religious and spiritual beliefs of most people, including those who are the gatekeepers of the distribution of information through all mainstream media. This is information that would cause massive, worldwide societal and cultural upheaval if presented and proclaimed as facts by major distributors of large influence. Do you really think those people would feel comfortable doing that, even when it went against their own deeply held beliefs? What would their investors, shareholders and peers and colleagues think? And this is even if that information and evidence made it past their own confirmation biases, cognitive dissonance and worldview filters?
5. "Contradictory information discredits the idea of the existence of an afterlife." Once again, this myth is the result of a lack of critical reasoning. The only reason we think think such information is dispositive about the existence of an afterlife is because of an unexamined assumption: that what we call "the afterlife" is a single homogenous kind of experience that is true for everyone, and that the dead should not disagree with each other about anything.
Yes, some sources claim that "everyone, when they die, experiences X," and others claim that their models and perspectives are universally applicable; this is simply because the dead hold various different beliefs and views, based on their experiences and way of interpreting those experiences, just like people alive on Earth. Dying does not grant anyone universal wisdom or knowledge; when you die, you're just the same person you were before you died, with much the same way of thinking about things (although it usually changes to some degree once you realize you still exist after dying.)
Just as different people around the world have different ideas about the nature of existence, what life is like, what is going on, what we should be doing, etc., and may believe that is true of all people everywhere, people in the afterlife are much the same, and even people like mediums or astral projectors are much the same. People tend to "universalize" their own experiences, perspective and ideas.
6. "There is no proof of the afterlife." If by "proof" one means "there is not enough supporting evidence to reach a reasonable conclusion that an afterlife exists," this is just incorrect and only demonstrates a lack of information and/or critical reasoning skills, or it reveals an a priori commitment to the idea that there is no afterlife. I and many others have already discussed this in several prior posts in this subreddit.
I have addressed some more myths and misconceptions in the comments.

Part 14.3

Heracles VS Lernaean Hydra

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

Somewhere out there in the interwebs recently someone asked why is tea prohibited in the word of wisdom given that it is actually healthy for you. Especially green tea. And our wonderful Mormon members are answering them. The word of wisdom is NOT about health. It is about obedience.
I cannot say this loudly enough. It is wrong to ignore your own morality and defer to someone else's authority. You have to answer for your actions and it is immoral to hide behind the "they told me to" argument. IMO.
It is a slippery slope from a small thing to ultimately a big thing (mountain meadows anyone???). This is one of my top 5 concerns about the morality of the church and members. IMO.

It’s not about if they are healthy or not. It’s about obedience.
The law of sacrifice requires us to sacrifice what God asks us to sacrifice instead of what we want.
That's what's "wrong" with Alcohol, Coffee, and Tea IAW the WoW. He asks us not to. And while He hangs it around our health as His reason why, our reason why is to obey Him.
Just follow what the church says, and it will be simple and not confusing.
Caffeine - yeah, don't try to make it fit logically. It's allowed in general by the WoW (because it's not mentioned). Plenty of LDS drink a Coke to stay awake while driving on a trip or cramming for finals.
In short: God commands it. If you can aquire a testimony that this is His church woth His prophets, you can know the commandment given through them is correct.

Chapter 9 - Finding Words
Tenar arrives at the haying and asks the women about the leather capped man. Nobody is sure why he, Handy, isn't there, but they view his kind as shiftless so that's no surprise. After she mentions the child the workers, being weary of the villagers let alone Ogion's apprentice, move on.
Tenar heads to the road and comes across Aspen, the wizard from before. He asks if she's there for work, and Goha is sure he says this not because he doesn't recognize her from before but more as an insult or warning. Tenar instead says she was going to warn the overseer that they had hired a thief known to her village. It takes him awhile to answer that he doesn't know about the hirelings, and Tenar suddenly realizes he seems older and more wizened than appearances. Suddenly he calls her a witch, a gossip, and a liar, and that he should have punished her over the incident with Ogion's body, and also, about Therru, that, "[t]he man did well who tried to destroy that creature, but the job should be completed." He says, "'Have you understood me?' 'No,' Tenar said. 'I have never understood men like you.'" She leaves down the road, but gets a static sensation and turns to see the wizard gathering dark lightning with his staff and started to speak a curse (she has a realization that because Ged has lost his power she kind of superimposed this on all others).
Two of the men from Havnor interrupt this, ostensibly (and, unfortunately, as a bit of a faux pas) to stop Aspen. They address her very cordially, at least one of them with honor, referencing her past deeds with the Ring. "'Ah,' said Tenar, flustered and warmed right through--'there’s all kinds of power in the world!--Thank you.'" She wasn't sure if the wizard knew of this or not, but it doesn't matter, as he hates her, as he hates Therru, because she is a woman. She thanks the envoys, in particular by giving them the information that Ged will need time but will get back to them, and draws positive comparison to them and the new order by the new King: "There was indeed a king upon that throne, and in his crown the chiefest jewel would be the Rune of Peace." She in particular was quite fond of the younger one which showed her particular reverence... though on turning back she is a bit sad to find (unfortunately, understandably) that they are chatting with the wizard as if nothing happened.
The men stay a few days and leave without contacting Ged, and Tenar finds some difficulty in a reason to stay around, particularly with Aspen the wizard and Handy the leather capped man now quite openly a threat. She feels like in leaving though she will lose the last bit of Ogion less, and on top of that "...she thought, 'I will never dream of the sky, down there.' Here, where Kalessin had come, she was Tenar, she thought. Down in Middle Valley she would only be Goha again." She doesn't let Therru out of her sight, and the days pass.
After being told everything, Aunty Moss had put out feelers in the acquaintances at the manor (after all, she was a healer and whatnot and so had some heft). A tale emerges that the younger lord, the grandson, had become sick and withered following the death of his mother, and oddly instead of seeking out Ogion or healers they sent for a wizard from Roke. Something a bit more than a rumor emerges, that they had been keeping women away from the manor and that the wizard was working on keeping the old lord, probably more than a century old, immortal off of the grandson's life. There's such a "let it be" attitude in the village that even Aunty Moss doesn't outright call it an evil (though she does think it'll all go wrong). Tenar had started asking villagers about Handy, the leather capped man, including if he left the area or not, but only received vague, uncommitted replies in return. Tenar was generally viewed as an outsider and uncordially by all but Fan, the old weaver.
Therru was kept close by, though she seemed to like this "...as a much younger child [might], working with her or playing. Her play was with cat's cradle, basket making, and with a couple of bone figures that Tenar had found in a little grass bag on one of Ogion's shelves.... To Tenar they had no sense of power or danger about them, and Moss said, 'Just toys.' To Therru they were a great magic. She moved them about in the patterns of some silent story for hours at a time...." She also learned to spin wool into yarn. Tenar felt like she wasn't "teaching all" like Ogion had said, though the Goha part of her said that the more homely arts, and the wisdom behind general good living, were true arts in themselves. One afternoon Tenar tries to to Therru the true name of a stone, but then (for a specific reason, after Therru mouths the name) she thinks it's just not time yet for it. Instead, she teaches her a fable that Lark had thought their children together, of Andaur, a woodcutter who cut down an oak tree that had a human voice, and Avad. Once again, "As long ago as forever, as far away as Selidor..."
That night, however, Tenar is wracked with anxieties while trying to sleep. These start general but get more and more specific and dark (supernatural, even) that Tenar wakes, makes a countersign, then springs from bed and yells, "'You come too late, Aspen. I was eaten long ago. Go clean your own house!' There was no answer, no sound, but a faint, sour, vile smell of burning-singed cloth or hair." She sets Ogion's staff on the door, checks on Therru, and does not sleep that night. The next day they visit the village to sell their yarn to Fan, and a curious incident happens where Tenar is pelted by stones as if by rain (there are some boys hiding about). Tenar starts to get shaky, and when they arrive at the house it's apparent someone was there: "It smelled of burned meat and hair. The coverlet of their bed had been disarranged." She realizes a spell had been put on her, it was no coincidence that the same word she had tried teaching Tenar was thrown back at her. Even her thoughts seem to turn against her, and to combat this she tries to think in Kargish. It's like she's contacting her old self, Arha the dark priestess, who reacted last night and knew curses and knew how to live in (or with) darkness. Tenar realizes she must leave, and a somewhat funny (in a way) incident happens with Heather (she tries to give her the goats and to keep up the household in other ways) where the words she wants to say only come out as insults. She gestures to Therru to come in the house to prepare to leave, and Therru poignantly reacts to the stench in the house. Amongst the activity a couple things are interesting, Tenar makes Therru water the peach, and Tenar empties her fabric to make room for (Ogion's, Ged's, "Hers") three great books instead of leaving them in the desecrated place. They take the staves Tenar had carved, leave Ogion's in the dark corner, and leave with "...the door of the house wide open to the wind from the sea."
They leave, instinctually she bypasses the main road, as if she met Aspen on the way she'd be lost. A mile away she knows she choose well, the words (Hardic and true) come back to her, first the true word for "stone", then "Kalessin", then she feels better. On the way to Gont Port, Tenar is thrilled to see a ship driven by magewind. A small segment here about the few towns Tenar has visited. Fifteen miles they had traveled (Therru steadfast, but certainly tired) when they come across a gate with two stone dragons surrounding it. Surprised by a guard (they guard city gates? What do they keep out?) she unwittingly does a perfect imitation of Heather and the guard, bored, lets them through. Gont Port is a living cacophony and Therru is transfixed. They travel along southward, the plan possibly to camp in a forest, when Therru alerts Tenar that the man in the leather cap is there. He spots them, pauses, and they run. They arrive at the docks and they are past their limit. Tenar asks a sailor if this is a ship from Havnor. It is, but he can't let her on it.
Suddenly, the man in the leather cap, Handy, appears behind her. He entreats her that she didn't have to flee, he was the one that got aid for Therru, and he wants to help them. "He put out his hand as if drawn irresistibly to touch Therru. Tenar could not move. She had promised Therru that he would never touch her again. She saw the hand touch the child’s bare, flinching arm." Suddenly a younger sailor (it seems to be Tenar's son for a moment) appears and asks what Handy wants with them. Handy says Tenar took his niece, "witched it", and ran off with her. She pleads the sailor to let her board and the sailor takes her to the deck and tells Handy to wait there. Tenar collapses, "...dropping the heavy sack but clinging to the child. 'Don't let him take her, oh, don't let them have her, not again, not again, not again!'"

I’ve shared a couple of UK-related geography quizzes on this sub recently and thought I’d post this one too if it’s okay.
Of all the places in the UK with city status, nine have names ending in a vowel (A, E, I, O or U). Six are in England, two in Scotland and one in Wales. There are three minutes to try and guess them all. You can pause the quiz if you need to do so — the website allows you to do this up to three times per quiz.
For a few of the answers, it may help to think of their full names (e.g. Stoke-on-Trent).
U.K. Cities Ending in Vowels (JetPunk.com)
Thanks very much for having a look.
🏙

(Sorry for any grammar or spelling errors, I’m suspected to be dyslectic and am just horrible at spelling)
(This has all been going on for about 3-4 years? Maybe a bit longer? It gets worse at certain times) (my grandad has also recently died and the family’s been arguing over everything which has caused things to worsen)
Most of the time I just feel sort of numb? I have times where I’m doing something and enjoying it and actually happy (like when I’m talking to my bff, when I went to the arcade, playing games, etc) but then when it stops I’m just in that state of numbness again? It’s not exactly sadness, but it’s definitely not happiness.
Sometimes I get moments where I feel like I’m not actually real? (I think it’s dissociating) the best way to describe it is like I’m in a first person video game, or just feeling like I’m on auto pilot. Or when I’ll look in the mirror and my face doesn’t look like how it should.
I will just completely brake down at certain times, crying my eyes out, hitting myself, digging my nails into my skin to try and distract myself with the pain (the marks go away after a day usually and they don’t bleed)
I get annoyed at small things very easily, if there’s a slight change in my routine that I can’t control (for instance when the thing I eat for breakfast every single morning runs out and I didn’t realise) I’ll start crying out of frustration. Repetitive noises I can’t stop set me off as well (the neighbours kids banging on the wall/the neighbours shouting, my dog whining, the sound of electricity)
When my bff doesn’t answer her phone and my brain automatically things she’s ignoring me and then I get annoyed with myself and end up apologising even though I did nothing wrong, and then I end up being annoyed at her? I feel super bad about it when she reassures me that she just didn’t have her phone and wasn’t ignoring me but then I still end up thinking that she secretly hates me even though I know it’s not true.
It’s worth noting that I have pretty bad anxiety, I hate loud noises or when there’s to many people around, it overwhelms me and sends me into panic attacks which then causes me to hit myself to try and distract me. I’m also nonbinary/trans and my gender dysphoria has been making things considerably worse (I don’t have any binders/trans tape so I can’t even make it better).
I share many traits with my bff who is autistic and both her and my mum has said that they think I could be on the spectrum as well which might be part of the issue? I’m not quite sure.
I was just wondering if anyone’s been in a similar boat and has any words of wisdom? Or if anyone knows how I can approach my mother about this?