The VTOL coursed through the night, rumbling through the starlit sky towards the marker zone. The soldiers within were jovial, the mission absurd, and laughing where they could. And as the gunship darted over the Australian wilderness towards the small town where the UFO was last spotted.
Sara had been waiting for this. It was inevitable afterall, since the Kansas Incident.
Around 3 hours ago, a number of the satellites the UNECIA had stationed over Australia refitted to watch for electrical signals matching those seen in the last abduction. The nearest UNECIA base was scrambled immediately. The soldiers aboard were among specially selected UN Peacekeepers, but thus far the reality of the situation hadn’t truly set in. However, it was about too.
At the moment, Fusa was directly managing comms, and while not physically present in the Command Room, Sara knew Arko and Rozad were watching. She also knew damn well the UN Security Council was watching as well. Sara took a strong drink of her coffee, secretly spiked with Applejack in her quarters. She was already running the multitude of potential scenarios in her head. The smaller aliens, named ‘Grunts’ for the time being were what she expected. But the larger one, called a ‘Champion’ internally by the UNECIA was likely to present as well. Maybe not the exact same one, but Sara expected one to be present. She had been reviewing the Kansas Incident for nearly a month now, and the whole affair struck her as a number of foot soldiers being commanded by a handler. Of course, there was always the possibility of a kind of alien they had not yet seen, using new weapons, but there was only so much she could do to plan around that.
Since then though, Sara had been restless. The one thing that never sat right with her was how easy this whole thing felt. Security was already pissed with her for putting their communications under triple coding and veiling their internal comms under Balkanes Romanes, but Sara wanted to be damn sure it was esoteric as she had access too.
“Carcossa, this is Monsoon, we are approaching for landing. Permission to drop Strike Team when ready?”
Fusa looked at Sara expectedly, awaiting orders. Sara nodded.
“Affirmative. Strike Team Claymore, this is Command. You are clear to drop as soon as Monsoon gives the green light. We’re going for a hot drop, can’t have you linger. Remain in the area for Evac.”
“Affirmative. Monsoon moving into position for the Drop. Strike Team, you are clear to drop on green.”
Sara watched through each 6 of the helmet cams of the team as they stood and readied. She took in a breath, as she readied herself. It took two to tango, and she dreaded what her partner was bringing to the floor.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tralyr watched from his command throne as he watched the Entangled Cameras of the Johka and Officer Filyahr collected the Ehke subjects. This was the first covert insurgency since Aesma’s fuck up. And his linguists were still working to uncover the tangle of communications that had since emerged across the planet. They had to have known at this point, Tralyr reckoned. It was simply a matter on how they would react.
“Commander, collection successful. We are planning to load up the Ehke and then leave. I got a bad feeling Commander. The air feels weird.”
“Affirmative Filyahr. Have the Johka do clean up. Keep a pair with you and send the rest to take care of any leftover mess.”
“Yes sir. We-”
Filyahr ceased to speak abruptly, as Tralyr leaned forward in his throne. His Hashtari did not cut off like this for no reason. He quickly cycled through cameras, only to catch a glimpse of a Johka’s head being split open by a metal slug going through it’s head.
“Officer Filyahr, your sentries are being attacked. Shield Pattern, you have permission to open fire.”
“Yes sir. For Ralakai!”
Tralyr quickly cycled back to the final shots of the Johka’s cameras before the remains of cranium painted the back wall of the Ehke housing block. It was brief, but for a moment, they saw their attacker. Wearing their planet’s high end combat armor, the Ehke that shot them was wielding a ballistic rifle. Their apparel was standard camo for their military units, save the stupid looking helmets the same color as their oceans. Tralyr quickly went back to his comms.
“Officer, these Ehke are not locals. These are soldiers. Weapons hot!”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“What the fuck is this thing…”
Ambrosia looked at the alien as it slumped forward on the ground, a viscous blue fluid draining out of its head where Sergeant Kronkowski had shot it. The closest thing she could compare it to was a Jerboa, but this thing was the size of her childhood bull terrier. Private Vasquez pushed it to the side with its boot, as the weapon it was holding smoldered on the ground next to it.
“Strike Team, this is Carcossa. Keep moving. Your objective is rescuing the civilians. Permission to advance, you have permission to fire on any Grunt or Champion contacts.”
“You heard CO,” Kronkowski said back to them, as he raised his rifle back up, nodding forward to the hot spot. “Keep moving.”
Ambrosia nodded, and fell back in with their squad.
This whole situation felt absurd, and yet, there was that thing they just passed by now dead on the ground. This was actually happening. The gun it had wasn’t anything Ambrosia had seen, and yet… it existed. It would have fired it at Bergan had Logan not shot it. But more than anything, she was happy a gun could kill it. She felt her hand gripping her FN FAL tighter. She was now terrified. Were they really under an alien invasion? If not, then what the hell was that thing? She soon however had her thoughts interrupted, when her comms lit up again.
“Your area is getting hot. Everyone move into cover now!”
Ambrosia snapped to attention, she instinctively darted towards a nearby alley. She looked to her squad, as she suddenly smelled an utter reek of ozone. She turned, as she watched as Sergeant Kronkowski was staggering back at the head.
“Sir-”
He couldn’t respond, as his face swiftly turned to char and ash. Scorched meat and melting hair radiated from the Sergeant, as he fell back to the ground, his hands curled towards his face, rasping out a scream as he clawed at the peeling meat on his head in pain. It was an ambush, one her immediate superior paid for with his life. She pressed against the wall so it could block line of sight from the shot, as the sounds of gunfire and whatever the hell their weapons were began roaring through the air.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck”
She could barely make sense of the orders. She heard some to fire on an alien moving through an area, and she would do so. Sometimes she was ordered to move cover. What was only a couple minutes felt like hours. One of the aliens even tried leaping onto her, but thank god she had a combat knife. They bled like a rat, and their eyes were way too beady as it bulged in it’s helmet as it died. After the firefight began to quiet down, she hid behind a convenience store, sneaking a view of the street through a reflection in an ice machine.
She wanted to say she counted 12 or so of those Grunts now lying dead through the street. Bergan was laying slumped against a wall with their entire chest now resembling a brisket, her eyes all too bright as she laid in an alley. Last she saw Vasquez a Grunt was tearing open his neck before she shot it. She heard an explosion and a human scream, which she thought was Jiminiez, when last she saw him he was fumbling with a grenade. And Murnau was lying slumped in the broken window, still cooking as ozone smoldered off his body.
“Private Zervaz, report!”
Ambrosia panted, as she pressed her comm unit, eyes still dead set on watching for any signs of combatants in the reflection.
“Private Zervaz, reporting.”
“Private, this is Commander Sadoul, now listen closely. You’re the last member of the Strike Team. There were 27 Grunts in the area, however, there is a Champion unaccounted for,” Ambrosia gave a heavy exhale as she heard the number. Was it really that many? The whole engagement had been a blur. But as soon as she thought of that, her breath caught in her throat, as she saw in the reflection the other thing the Commander had mentioned, “I need you to pay attention and listen. That Champion is actively looking for you. It took a direct hit from a grenade, and while it’s still standing, it doffed its body armor. It has an exoskeleton like a giant bug. Your rounds don’t breach the bone-”
“Fuck!”
“Quiet! You’ll expose your position! Get something you can swing that’s big, sharp, metal, and as heavy as you can manage. And then, wait for when it’s back is turned, and strike it as close as you can to where its abdominal muscles would be.”
Ambrosia’s eyes shot around wildly. She moved her gun to her back, and darted as fast as she could to the back of the store. She looked about, and found a fire axe. She panted, as she drove her elbow into the glass, and then quickly grabbed it.”
“This is insane. This is insane. I…”
Ambrosia panted as she caught a glance of a chitin clad thing approaching the entry point to the gas station. She caught her breath, as she watched as it looked around. She waited near the door frame, eyes trained on the reflection. She clutched the axe close, as she muffled her panicked breaths as much as she could. And then, for a single moment, their eyes met. And in a split second, one of its arms shot up and fired into the reflection.
This shot wasn’t plasma, but rather a laser. Ambrosia couldn’t have reacted to it. As by the time she saw it, the beam had split, one of them splitting into her helmet, striking the face plate, melting the glass and splitting the beam if only for a moment. By a miracle none of the rays hit her eye. However, the entire right side of her face was now ignited by the fury of the sun.
Ambrosia tilted back and howled in sheer pain as she quickly scrambled the melting helmet off of her head. The room was now ablaze, as the lasers set fire to most of it. She fell to her feet in shock, wheezing. She gripped the axe tighter, as her comm unit began to buzz.
“There is a fire spreading through the gas station. March or die Private.”
Ambrosia gripped her axe, as adrenaline began to course through her veins again. Her body ached. Her face was in agony. But the building was now on fire, the immediate exit ablaze from split laser fire. Flight was impossible.
It was time to fight.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Filyahr moved forward, lowering his laser pistol. They waited, as they heard the Ehke scream.
“Report.”
“Commander. 5 contacts have been confirmed dead. Confirming the last one now. All the Fohka have died. My body armor was destroyed by an Ehke Fragmentation device, however their projectile weapons cannot pierce our mighty bones.”
“Don’t get arrogant Officer. Whoever is commanding these Ehke is crafty. We outnumbered them nearly 5 to 1, with advanced weaponry. And yet here you are, the last of your forces. Confirm the Ehke combatant is dead. Now.”
“Affirmative.”
Filyahr moved forward, raising their left arms as they approached, their hardlight shield igniting as they approached. This place smelled of fossil fuels, and they knew it wouldn’t be long until the fire reached wherever it was being stored. The blast would be huge, and now they would have to deal with the possibility that the fireball would alert more Ehke. This whole situation had been cocked. They grumbled as they came forward, stepping in front of the room.
As they peaked in, a metal wedge swung hard towards them. It slammed right into the projector of their shield, and with a crack it exploded on their arm. Filyahr reeled back, screeching, as their lower left arm had been rendered to a red mist below the elbow. Filyahr tried launching themselves backwards, raising their gun to shoot the Ehke right between the eyes. But they swung again with a mad zeal, the now chipped wedge slamming into their hand. Right through the fingers, the wedge split open bone and muscle, as their laser rifle cracked with a heavy hiss. It exploded with far more ferocity than their shield had. That infernal metal wedge the Ehke was wielding was sent out of their hands, as both of them went flying across the room in opposite directions. It smashed through a stand of preserved foods, while Filyahr went careening into metal box full of ice.
“Argh! Ralakai damn you!”
Filyahr pulled himself from the box, the cold washing over causing a horrible chill in his blood. As he staggered forward, he looked at the Ehke, who was already pulling themselves up. They had ditched their helmet, as an entire side of their face was still sizzling from the laser strike. One of their arms was now clearly shattered, as it hung limp next to their side. But it’s eyes…
Filyahr blinked, as it couldn’t help but be stunned by the Ehke’s tenacity. It was nearly as strong, fast, and nimble as a Hashtari, but yet they lacked a Hashtari’s fangs. They lacked their claws, their tusks. It staggered forward, it’s soft pink flesh still burning. It was fragile, and yet it still looked at Filyahr with all the malice of a territorial herbivore. But it’s eyes…
It’s eyes…
In a moment, Filyahr understood why this species was the one that conquered their world. And it was already growing from its fight with the Fohka. Filyahr laughed in glee, as he realized what this war would become.
“Commander, I know why the Saklas want these creatures!” Filyahr laughed into his comms, as he began to walk towards the Ehke. It grabbed a metal club from behind a counter, as it moved the blunt rod onto its shoulder, as it barked something at it in its language, “They have the Gift! The Ehke are worthy foes! I grant this one the rite of the Final Dance!”
Filyahr charged, ignoring his Commander. They raised their two good arms in a battle hiss, as the Ehke spun, darting out of the way. Filyahr arced a claw towards its head, as claw connected with shoulder. Filyahr however felt the club slam into his jaw, as his chin shattered. Both staggered, but the Ehke used its hand being free to its advantage, as it slammed its club into his abdominal structure. It cracked, as Filyahr coughed up blood in shock. He tried to attack with an open hand, but the Ehke delivered a well placed boot into his knee. He lost his balance, as he hit the ground hard, as he wheezed, starting to get dizzy from the blood loss from his two mangled limbs, and his now shattered lungs. He wheezed a laugh, as his lungs began to fill with blood from the strike to his abdominals.
“Well fought Ehke…”
Filyahr smiled as he wheezed, as the steel club slammed into his skull, splitting it open just like his jaw had been.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[[Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1ccdqg8/in_the_shadow_of_empire_part_11/ ]]
[[Previous: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cd01q5/in_the_shadow_of_empire_part_12/ ]]
[[Next: (Coming Soon)]]

A while ago in another forum for Ascendance of a Bookworm, I mentioned that I wanted to do a re-read of the entire series. One of the community Mods asked if I could go through and pick out some quotes so they can have it on their page. I thought it was a fun idea (especially for the earlier books), and while it took me a while I finally finished.... re-reading P1V1, look I'm a slow reader.
But man is P1V1 a hard read. If you were to give me this book to me and told me I'd fall in so love with the series I'd buy an e-reader to read it, I'd call you crazy. Take it from me, while I love this series, if you want to get into it watch the anime, or read the Manga. Myne is unbearable at times, (as per her character is designed to be), and I quickly grew tired the one sided obsession of "Books" after 1-2 chapters. The book picks up steam again once she's stopped obsessing with books, like with the shampoo and food, but in P1V1 these are far and few between. But from the perspective of the story this is understandable why and in Volumes 2 and 3 it gets so much better.
If you want my two cents on when to read this book. Do it after you've read the Manga or watched the anime, to fill in the little bits of extra world building. Especially for the side stories.
Overall a rough start to what is still my favourite books series.
[EDIT: fixed formatting]
---- Quotes ----
Prologue

• Urano Motosu loved books [understatement of century]
  
• She had her books, and that was enough to make her happy. [A certain high priest has words for you]
  
• "Complain all you want. A little pain is a lot better than getting hit by a truck and dying, yeah?" - Shuu [truck kun misses their chance this time]
  
• "That's true. I wouldn't want to die from anything but an avalanche of books" - Urano (Myne) [Moments before disaster.]
  
• "But if I did die, I'd ask a god to reincarnate me so I can keep reading books in my next life. Isn't that smart? Ahaha." - Urano [I can see the God of Chaos saying; "deal, but you'll need to work for it"]
  
• "Life ain't that convenient, moron" - Shuu [I think Shuu and Ferdi would be friends]
  

Chapter 1

• "A college girl nearing graduation was crushed to death by books in her own home" [we would call this natural causes]
  
• ... That's so embarrassing! I died twice that day, once physically and once socially. [You did ask for this]
  
• "I don't see any books... Maybe this is just a nightmare? A death nightmare?" - Myne [God of Chaos asking if you've read the fine print]
  
• No, I'm not Myne! I wanted to protest, but I couldn't. [This is why you get hit by Truck-kun]
  
• I can survive anywhere as long as I've got books. I'll endure anything. So please. Books. Let me have books. [The beginning of the book fueled tantrum]
  
• By acting like I was worried about her. I could avoid things I didn't like. [I feel this is how she handles most situations even 5 parts in]
  
• Attention, whichever god put me here... I wanted to live somewhere modern and convenient. [God of Chaos laughing in the background]
  
• I... I miss Japan. It was filled with so many wonderful things I took for granted. Soft wash cloths, comfortable beds, books, books, books... [I don't think she mentioned books]
  

Chapter 2

• "Wow, Myne! You've gotten really good at this. Soon you'll be able to do it on your own," Tuuli [to myne while she was peeing]
  
• I could appreciate that she was happy for her little sister growing up, but my pride, dignity, and self respect as a human being were in tatters. [She had dignity?]
  
• The first step to improving my life here would be getting books. [Good luck with that]
  
• It wouldn't be long before I started screaming "Books, give me boooks! Waaah!" while sobbing and flailing [the tantrum continues]
  
• "Bwuh?!" - Chaos Gremlin [Our girls first Bwuh, I should start a counter]
  
• ...Um, God, do you hate me? Is this a cruel joke? [Na girl the gods will love you soon enough]
  

Chapter 3

• Um... Do your best, Tuuli! My lunch is counting on you! [Myne you need to respect our angel more]
  
• For some reason, only the steps from the second floor downward were made out of pretty stone. [This is what we call foreshadowing]
  
• Aaaah. A temple. It sounds like religion is enforced here, which sucks. I'll try to avoid that place as much as possible. [Good luck with that sweetie]
  
• ... Oh wait, am I going down the child prodigy path here? At age ten I'll be God's gift to mankind and at age fifteen I'll be a genius, but once I hit twenty I'll just be a normal person. Oh well. [You'll soon have people which will ensure that you are revered like a goddess]
  

Chapter 4 - Um, was that alcohol?! Who in the world would give an innocent little girl strong alcohol like that! [your mum hunney]

• Bwuh?! [number 2]
  
• "M-Mister! What's this? Wait is it?!" "Oh, that's a book" [Myne entering nirvana]
  
• "I-I don't know what's gotten into you... But I get the feeling I shouldn't let you touch that book" [wise words]
  
• "...And what do I do if I can't get them? Well, what choice do I have but to make them myself?" [rinse and repeat]
  

Chapter 5

• So many of Myne's memories were burred in her thoughts of "no fair," it made me kind of not like her. [spoilers]
  
• "What? Huh? Myne your hair's all pretty and dark blue now. It's like the night sky. And your eyes are like moons!" - Tuuli [first worshiper of the saint]
  

Chapter 6

• My Family's faith in me had hit rock bottom and apparently Tuuli wouldn't even consider leaving me home alone. [it isn't just your family]
  
• "Hey, Myne. Want me to carry you?" ...Lutz, you're such a good kid! [The beginnings of a long friendship]
  
• "Myne, you were sick again recently weren't you? It must hurt. I'll carry you" - Lutz [You'll be saying this a lot soon enough]
  
• Ohohoho, my sweet young Ralph. Are you after my Tuuli? [Elvira frantically writing in the background]
  

Chapter 7

• So... So nice. You're way to nice Tuuli. All I cared about was avoiding Mom's wrath over him forgetting what she worked so hard to find.
  
• "Hahaha! Teach you...? Heh, don't you barely know how to write Captain?" The moment I heard that, I felt a crack run through my very soul. [Be nicer to your dad sweetie]
  

Chapter 8

• Um... Just how useless do people think I am? I mean, it's true that I never do anything, and I'm useless almost all of the time, but still. [At least you have some self awareness... fool]

Chapter 9

• "See? It Broke. I told you it wouldn't last all winter. Now, Dad Fix it" ... "Myne, go help Effa" [The struggles of all parents of chaos gremlins]

Chapter 10

• ... Wait. Am I the most useless thing in this wagon? [Yes... yes you are]
  
• "Myne, close your mouth. You're gonna bite your tongue off." "Bwuh?!" [number 3]
  
• "He did say she wasn't as young as she looked." [Ummm Otto he meant she was 5, not mature]
  
• "Sorry Tuuli" "Seriously. This is a real pain" "Aww what? Didn't you promise not to say that?" "I never promised that!" I mean... Okay you didn't promise that. But isn't it still like an unspoken promise? [That's not how that works. That's not how any of this works]
  

Chapter 11

• "Bwuh, it didn't work. I wonder if there's something else I can use like a (mirror)..." "I would appreciate it if you would stop wasting out time." [Numbuh 4 and Effa, she will never stop wasting people's time. They just learn to profit from it]
  
• "That's right. Creating clothes for your family is important both practically and to show off to the neighbours. You can't be a true beauty if you're not good a sewing and cooking" Aaah... I'm definitely not gonna grow up into a beauty, then. And I mean I can understand all that being important for a good wife, but what do cooking and sewing have to do with being beautiful? [Myne I am certain that a god will bless you with beauty, it just takes time]
  
• ...Bwuuuh, there’re all so thin I can barely tell them apart. Fiddle fiddle fiddle fiddle [Number 5]
  
• "That's it! I can't do it! Okay (ancient Egyptians), you win! I lose!" Mentally and emotionally exhausted. I clenched a fist around my faux papyrus and yelled out in frustration. [She really needed Lutz here]
  
• "Bwuuuuuh... I failed. My papyrus plan failed so hard." [number 6]
  
• "Be quite. Myne! If you have time to play with plants, weave some baskets!" "Baskets won't turn into books..." "I don't know what you're talking about, but you failed, didn't you? Just start making baskets already" [Good Lutz impression Effa, but only a true Lutz can turn this into something about books]
  
• "That's amazing Myne. I didn't know you were a natural at this. Maybe you should try to be an apprentice carpenter?" "Whaaa? That's a little..." [Poor Myne, your secret is out and now you'll need to work]
  
• "Ngh, why are you so good at this, Myne?" Tuuli compared her basket with mine and slumped her shoulders, depressed at how much worse hers were - "Don't worry about it, Tuuli. You just need to lean how to tighten gaps and plan ahead to make patters" [Tuuli is so precious]
  
• "I can't believe you're better than me, Myneeee..." Oh no... Looks like I've really hurt Tuuli's older sister pride. [Poor jelly Tuuli]
  

Chapter 12

• "It's sunny Dad, it's sunny! Come, wake up! Myne!" Tuuli's excited voice rang through the dark bedroom and soon I was shaken awake. [Ahh the joys of winter]
  
• "Once noon comes and the sun rises, sunlight fall into the forest and like the parue leaves start shinning, and the tree starts shaking, and the leaves all start making swishy swashy noises" [The explanation of a child are fun]
  
• This... This is what happiness tastes like! It's like thick coconut milk! [Poor sugar deprived child]
  
• "Wait, seriously? She made you eat bird food, Tuuli?!" [and it tasted good]
  

Chapter 13

• “Bwuh! So cold!” [Number 7]
  
• "Uh huh, I really like him." I mean, he's my teacher (or so I've unilaterally decided), and he gave me this slate. How could I not like him? [Ah, never change fool never change]
  
• What exactly are you trying to stop your five-year-old daughter from doing? Even if I did like him in that way, he wouldn't give a five-year-old the time of day. - You sure are being dumb, Dad [Myne you did this to yourself]
  
• "... Myne, I'm going to swallow my pride to ask this. Would you please help me?" [Ah enter merchant #1 taking advantage of the chaos gremlin]
  
• "A-Anyway! The point is, I'm not a cheap enough girl to work for free" [No you usually give the information away for free if you talk long enough]
  

Chapter 14

• Dad's face fell with disappointment the moment he heard my answer. He looked so, well, pathetic that I wished he would at least try to act a little tougher. [You did this to him]
  
• "Myne, it looks like Dad's all cheered up now. I'm so glad!" Tuuli beamed the innocent smile of an angel [never change Tuuli never change]
  
• "If there's a way to make her cuter, it's wrong not to do it" Cuteness is justice!" [A future orange haired believer nodding in agreement]
  
• I wonder if all dads act like this when their daughter is sweet to them. Well... Now that he's happy. I guess it's ok if I stop worry about him for a bit? [You'll soon get a few more Dad's to test this on, and ouch so cold to your old man]
  

You see... Making one big flower would be a problem if I got bored halfway though, right? Once again, I kept my thoughts to myself. [She really needs a Lutz]

• "You really thought this through Myne." "Of course I did! I'm doing all this for you, Tuuli." [This chapter needs a diabetic warning for how sweet it can be]
  
• "Really?! You're amazing, Dad! I've never respected anyone this much in my life" I got so emotional that I hugged Tuuli hard as Dad muttered to himself, "Hehehe. I beat you Otto." Apparently he had been secretly competing with Otto [Oh lord not again]
  
• Also, Mom ended up addicted to lacework, and before I Knew it the needles Dad made for me were in her sewing box. [Effa is as much of a gremlin as Myne is]
  

Chapter 15

• I had been very careful over the winter, so I only got ever and passed out five times total. Um... That’s a lot less okay? My family was really impressed. They’re like, wow, that’s amazing, you’re doing so much better. And they mean it! [I know it, you know it, she knows it. But it’s better to not shatter her disillusion]
  
• “...So I can do to the forest if I throw a tantrum?” “No need for that. Don’t be dumb” [Never change Myne, never change]
  
• Otto was real serious about convincing me. Said I wouldn’t find a cheaper helper for him anywhere.” [The trap is set, Myne will not escape the merchant’s grasp]
  
• “A pace like today’s is ultimately for the best. You really shouldn’t compare them to me.” [Many a sibling of Myne will agree to this statement, now and in the future]
  
• ...I mean, the forst words and phrases he taught me were “Person Inquiry”, ”Noble”, “Letter of Introduction”, and “Written Petition” [And thus begins Myne’s slanted education]
  
• Apparently, past Myne had barely ever participated in the neighbourhood social events, so the local children considered her something of a rare monster with a low encounter rate. [Can’t decide between Chansey or Tauros]
  

Chapter 16

• “What were you doing at the gate Myne?” “Learning my letters.” “Letters? You can write?!” Lutz looked at me with utter shock. I got the feeling his eyes were whining with respect and admiration for me , but I don’t know enough words to really say I could write. [The second worshipper for our saint has joined us]
  
• Incidentally, first Lutz, and then all his older brother actually cried afterwards. They were sincerely thankfully for how I had not only given them delicious food, but more food than they normally got to eat. [And only Lutz appears to respect that]
  
• ...So hard! Bwuh? Is it even possible to dig into this? [Number 8]
  
• “Why are you willing to help me, Lutz?” “Huh? I mean, you made those parue cakes for me when I was real hungry, right? That day I decided to help you with whatever you need. No matter what” [The beginning of a long a beautiful friendship
  
• ...Bwuh? Just that? He’ll help me dig out clay just for that [Bumber 9, and yes you idiot he likes you]
  
• “Sheesh! You look all nice and sweet on the outside, but I can’t let my guard down around you!” [Wise words for someone so young]
  
• “Actually, I think you should let your guard down a bit more... Why do you have to be smarter than Dad?” [No sweetie, you need actual guards to keep you in line]
  
• I glared at Fey and the other as hard as I could, shocking back sobs as tears streamed down my face. Rage coursed through my body as if to set my blood boiling, but somehow, my mind was frighteningly calm. [Darth Myne has appeared]
  
• Fey and his friends flinched from my glare and slowly backed away, trembling in fear. [Your ability to destroy clay tablets is insignificant to the power of the force]
  
• “Myne, what’s wrong?!” She peered over to see my face and immediately her expression twisted into one of fear, just like Fey’s. “...What happened? You look really mad.” She averted her eyes from me and looked around to assess the situation while consoling me [Don’t use the force on Tuuli, she’s our angel]
  
• Apparently, I reigned as the queen of the rumoured “Top People You Should ever Make Angry” rankings for some time. [And thus began her rule, of fear, terror, and books]
  

Chapter 17

• What was normally a grassy wonderland had been scarred deeply by the storm, with mud scattered everywhere. Um... Does this world have financial assistance for natural disasters? [Nope]
  
• I Began to teach Lutz, feeling an odd sens of responsibility to proselytize books, and writing” [And thus began Mynes long childhood career of teaching other children her age]
  
• I heated them on the hearth and boom! My first book turned to dust and rubble. [Almost there girl, you just need Lutz for the whole project]
  

Chapter 18

• The meeting had been ordered by an arch noble, one of a higher-ranked family in noble society, and thus his head would literally fly if he didn’t go. Literally?! Really?! That’s scary! [I wonder is this noble is the one we get to know in the future]
  
• “...I’ve heard that they don’t go to the temple. They summon the priests to their home. Nobles don’t understand how we commoners feel.” [Neat]
  
• “It’s a father’s duty to wait outside the temple.” “Isn’t going to work and making money a father’s duty too?” “Ngh!” [Ahh our baby girl is learning]
  
• To think that a simple change of clothing and crimson blush from crushed red plants would make her look so much more beautiful. Wow... My mom’s got perfect genes. She’s like an absolute beauty. [You can do the same thing if you keep your mouth shut]
  
• I hate working with needles, so I guess I’m pretty much guaranteed to never find a boyfriend or get married here. [I think you’ll need to keep this excuse in your back pocket Myne, you’ll need it]
  
• “Oh goodness, Myne did that? To think she’s good a something other than weird cooking.” [Karla, you need to be nicer to the chaos gremlin, she already is corrupting your boy]
  
• “Oh, okay. You’re healthier now, but we really can’t tell when you’ll get sick. That’s too bad; I wanted everyone to know how amazing you are.” [You are such an angel Tuuli, don’t worry this will be in her benefit]
  
• ...”Go home with this captain immediately. He as so antsy during the meeting that an archnoble glared at us and thereby shaved years off my life.” [And he will never change]
  

Chapter 19

• “Whaaa?! She hasn’t just been resting at the gate?” “Myne wasn’t exaggerating about all those things?!” Tuuli, why are you that surprised? And ouch, Mom, that hurts. I can’t believe you though I wasn’t telling the truth. [Honestly I can’t blame them.]
  
• Wouldn’t that mean it looked it I was in love...? Bwuuuh! [Number 10 Oh I need to save this quote for P5]
  

Chapter 20

• “Wha?! Myne, do you want to become a travelling merchant?! Wha?! Hold on! Did I inspire you by accident? The Captain’s going to kill me!” [And this is how Otto survived all these years]
  
• “Bwuh?! Awww... Okay I guess that makes sense...” [Number 11]
  

Wooow, This would suck really bad if I weren’t fooling myself into thinking I’m cosplaying Cinderella [yeah... cosplaying]

• “How long do you think I should dry them?” “Meh? “Maybe I should try cooking them.” “Don’t bother. They’ll explode again” “Awww...” I followed Lutz advice and quiety let the soot pencils dry on their own. [And thus begins Lutz’s long career of being the Myne Manager]

Chapter 21

• The moment she glared at the white radish and sharply cut it in half, I heard a loud scream. From the radish. “Bwuh? What?” [Number 12]
  
• Is it just me, or does Mom look at lot more dangerous than the radish? It’s probably just me. [A rare parting of wisdom from Myne]
  
• Sorry Sorry. But Dad, when I asked for some, Mom gave me a meaningful smile and told me that you had stealthily brought that without telling her, and that you it’d be a waste if everyone didn’t get to enjoy it. For once I actually managed to read between the lines. [Gunther you fool, why did you think Effa wouldn’t notice]
  

Chapter 22
No Notable quotes I found in this chapter. Just Darth Myne using the force on herself in confusion.
Chapter 23

• “I want ahead and told her you did it for me. ‘Go and ask Myne this stuff’ I said” Bwuh?!” [Number 13 and good on you Lutz, your mother is scary]

Chapter 24

• But although he was a successful merchant, her wasn’t like a wizened company president. He has the intensity of a CEO running a venture capital firm. [If you knew that why are you jumping into the jaws of death]
  
• “...Your assistant hasn’t even been baptized?” “Aah, well, actually, I’m in the middle of teaching her to read and write so she can become my assistant.” “You sure made it sound like she was already helping you out quite a bit” “...Let it go, man.” [Benno is right Otto, but we both know he’s no better]
  
• “Listen, girl, I don’t wanna hear them. He’ll never shut up once he gets going” Benno hurriedly tried to stop me, but Otto’s eyes were already shining. [Myne attracts weirdo’s like this a lot huh.]
  
• In the end, I didn’t know whether I pulled Lutz into this or if Lutz pulled me into this, but if Lutz was willing to do what I couldn’t then I was willing to do what Lutz couldn’t. [And here marks the beginning of Assendance of a Bookworm. Took long enough]
  

Echapter 1

• “Oh? My brother force to negotiate? Please share the details with me, Otto dear.” Corinna’s gray eyes shined and she scooted her chair toward Otto a little as she asked for details with a sweet voice [We don’t believe it too Corinna]
  
• “Hair so silky that light gleams off of it, you say?! What does she do to make it like that?!” “Wha? Corrina, you’re plenty pretty already.” “Quiet, Otto. I’m asking my brother” [Corinna has Otto well under her thumb, and Myne... run]
  
• “...I knew it, you have been making her work as your assistant. How could you make a little kid like that help with budget reports? Shameful.” [Again Benno has a point]
  
• “I’ve never said this to anyone, but listen. She’s doing most of my paperwork for me. Seventy percent, at least” “...What?!” “...Seventy percent? Dear...” [can’t tell if this is praise for Myne, or Otto making himself look incompetent]
  
• “... She’s going to become a living natural disaster that destroy the market and remakes it anew.” [I think her scale has the potential for more Benno, don’t sell her short]
  

Echapter 2

• “Should be about shumil season now. I’m bettin’ there’s tons of them running around here” Ralph grinned, holding onto a net [First instance of Shumil]
  
• “Phih phiiiih!” Other shumls that had been earing nearby also ran off after hearing their friend’s squeals. [Pooey]
  
• Fey gave a mean smirk, “That shumil kinda looks like Myne, huh? They’re both blue and stuff” “No they don’t! Shut up, you’re making this hard for me!” Tuuli resisted Fey’s bullying and safely finished her butchering [Don’t be mean to our Angel Fey, you jerk]
  
• “Think about it. Myne and shumils are both super weak right? But when they get mad their eyes get all rainbowy and stuff. What’s the difference?” [I mean you’re not wrong, but you are still mean]
  
• “Hey Lutz, go home early with Fey and sell this at that crystal store. Me and Tuulu gotta stay here to watch the little kids” [Remember this kids as it will be helpful later.]
  
• “When Myne glared at me with those rainbow eyes, it felt like, like, I couldn’t breathe. It hurt. Just think about that freaks me out. Myne’s just weird and scary.” [Then don’t crush her hopes and dreams]
  
• ... and looked up at the darkening blue sky. As it came closer to resembling Myne’s hair and the moon rose looking just like the color of her eyes. [You’re a hopeless romantic Lutz]
  

Echapter 3

• Urano I hope that someday you get stuck in a world without books and suffer! [You fool don’t make wishes like this]

Age: 5ish
I rescued my tortie cat from a neglectful situation about 4 years ago. At that point, her teeth/stomatitis situation was so bad that I had to get her a full teeth extraction (except for her front teeth). That helped a ton, and there haven’t been issues until recently.
In the last 2 months or so, her lymph nodes under her chin have swollen up again, and it seems like her stomatitis is swelling up again (I don’t know how else to word that haha). I took her to the vet and she did a round of antibiotics, but her lymph nodes are still swollen.
She doesn’t seem to be in pain. She’s eating, drinking, and playing normally. She’s cuddly and has her normal personality. But I also can’t afford to take her back to the vet right now (hopefully soon).
What are some things I can do to help her live her best comfiest life with the full extraction already done? Is there any insight as to why the antibiotics didn’t help the lymph nodes go down? Any advice is super appreciated, this cat is my child. Thank you so much in advance!!

i’m a 22 year old female, i’ve been experiencing severe symptoms of lupus/lupus like conditions. im constantly sick with fevers, nausea, and vomiting. i also get nose bleeds at least twice a day that last for about an hour, they pour out of my nose like a faucet so bad that it starts coming out of my mouth and sometimes even my ears. i also get hives that are raised and itchy all over my arms and sometimes my face. i can barely work anymore, im so exhausted and my body constantly hurts
i’m diagnosed with GERD and interstitial cystitis, which i believe can be related to sjogrens. i’ve seen every specialist you can imagine, (neurologist, urologist, gynecologist, cardiologist, hematologist, gastroenterologist) and recently i saw a rheumatologist because my ana was 1:1280 with a speckled pattern. he ran more tests and everything was normal except for my ana which was still 1:1280. he told me he had no idea what was wrong with me and that i should just keep taking advil/tylenol to relieve my symptoms. i pushed back on this and expressed my concerns to him and that i can’t keep living like this. he then started questioning me on why im on zoloft and if my mental health was managed, i almost lost it on him but i kept my cool and explained that my mental health is and has been under control. he repeatedly doubted me and kept explaining how “anxiety and depression can manifest into physical symptoms” i shut that conversation down and then he started questioning my menstrual cycle and if i was just experiencing period pains. i shut that conversation down as well. i asked him if a lip biopsy would tell us more but he said that it wasn’t necessary. he then attempted to prescribe me an antipsychotic and scheduled me for 5 months out. i’m an a loss and i don’t know what to do, i cant live like this and i feel like no one is going to figure out what’s wrong with me. i am currently looking for a different rheumatologist for a second opinion and im also going to see an ENT per my doctors request. i’m also considering seeing an allergist.
did anyone else go through anything similar?? any advice would be appreciated.

sorry if this is long/maybe tmi. really i’m just trying to vent bc this whole experience is really taking a toll on me.
as far as i know, i’ve never struggled with digestion issues. i’d go to the bathroom 2-3 times a day. no abnormalities like weird colors or consistencies. no mucus, stomach pain, nothing.
this all started 2 months ago. end of february. i noticed one afternoon i hadn’t gone #2. think maybe i’ll just go the next day. then, a whole week goes by (i know probably should have noticed something was wrong sooner), still hadn’t gone. by the end of the week i felt terrible. i had taken laxatives but they made my stomach hurt and gave me diarrhea. then one night i noticed my hands would get really cold and just felt bad. next i got a fever, not sure how high. i decided to go to the doctor 1st thing next week. doc tells me they want to do a ct scan (found out it was a ct not mri, for any confusion on my previous posts). nothing weird, no inflammation, no thickening, no fluid anywhere. ct only showed “slow transit through the terminal ileum”. so my small intestine must be sluggish. doc tells me to eat more fiber & prescribes laxatives. they tried to get some proper motility meds for me but insurance was being dumb & didn’t approve. so got metoclopramide 5mg instead. at this point, i’m still constipated, but doing slightly better. stool is soft not hard or dry.
now early-mid march. i’m trying to add more fiber into my diet. at this point, i’m having no issues eating, just nervous to eat what i normally do bc of the constipation. prune juice is my bff. feel like i wouldn’t go without it, and i couldn’t. along with the motility meds. stool is dark sometimes, thinner sometimes, but not a whole lot. has mucus, like white/clear lines. got a hemorrhoid during this time stung, but managed through it with cream. bleeding slightly but again was told not to be concerned. stool isn’t hard. in fact during this time i had mushy diarrhea, but took prune juice into account. once hemorrhoid cleared (prob not related but happened around the same time) stool gained normal shape, still soft and not as much as i used to see. noticed it had white lines of mucus. taking benefiber at this time, seems to help bulk up my stool. things still aren’t back to normal but i’m hopeful.
early-mid april. i start to feel nauseous. losing my appetite, can no longer eat normally, trying to stick to easier foods to digest. experiencing acid reflux along with slow swallowing sensation, abdominal discomfort, gas pains. weird aches/twinges on my sides and upper abdominal area and upper and lower back. only going once in the morning, notice more mucus, start to wipe clear mucus too, some clear mucus even starts coming out by itself. string like, clear and white. some came out with a bit of blood one time and yellow stool water?? but could’ve been at this point, where i started to notice yellow color when i wiped. start getting worried. go to the doc. they keep telling me the same, eat fiber, take laxatives. but they do refer me to a gastroenterologist. at the appointment i describe my symptoms. have an endoscopy scheduled. they made sure to rule out bacterial infection. results come back, nothing abnormal via the camera, and all 3 biopsies came back negative. tried asking for what but reception didn’t know. & my docs hard to get a hold of. next appointment with gastro is may 29th.
mid-april, losing weight, maybe 15lbs at this point, could be because i’m not eating like i used to. tell doc i feel a burning pain on the sides of my belly, get small circular bumps. feel like they outline muscles on my abdomen and some are mainly on fatty areas pf my body. feel them under my arms & chest even. biggest is this long lump near my belly button. get ultrasound, full abdominal & pelvic exam for suspected umbilical hernia. things look normal according to doc. doc even touched them to make sure they weren’t swollen lymph nodes. told bumps were probably fatty lumps. bumps
my doc has done an h pylori stool test, came back negative. did a blood smear test (told them i had black stools), negative. got tested for celiac disease, negative. 3 blood tests done to detect infection in blood, nothing. getting stool tested again currently for fat malabsorption, awaiting results.
now currently, lack of appetite persists, haven’t felt hungry in a month. havent noticed any darker stools but they are lighter, when i wipe it’s yellow and smells acidy notice undigested chicken, meat stuff like that along with black specs. getting a stool test done currently for fat malabsorption, waiting on results. blood has increased when i wipe, sometimes it’s in my stool but only streaks of bright red. not leaking out or dripping blood so far. but do feel itching/slight burning pain around anus. clear fluid leaking out to but not enough to stain my underwear. thought it was hemorrhoids again but can’t feel any bumps like last time, though upper part of anus is tender, but not sure what they is tbh. think the clear fluid leaking stopped a day or two ago, from what i can feel but maybe it’s still coming out in small amounts.
got nauseous this morning and had diarrhea after not having gone #2 yeaterday, green-brown color, smells like egg. worried bc monday i ate some egg cooked in olive oil and got diarrhea that came out with yellow water, parts that were mushy were greenish-brown too and also smelled the same. thought it was just bc of what i ate but now i’m not so sure. i am taking anxiety meds right now but again, not sure if it’s the meds giving me diarrhea or what. but did have diarrhea a day before i took the pill so i’m just so confused.
sorry again, if this is tmi & it might be irrelevant, but urine has also been weird smelling and dark yellow sometimes lately. did wipe blood a couple of times and some blood did come out while i peed twice. only been drinking water since all of this so don’t know what that’s about. do have 3 kidney stones that are in my left kidney info from ct scan and ultra sound. and according to the ultrasound they still are. told my doc about this, went couple of times as well bc of left side kidney pain & symptoms mentioned above. been tested 3 times for a uti, all came back negative also had more than the usual amount of clear discharge with some white discharge. got swabbed for yeast. awaiting results.
hope i got everything but if more comes to mind i’ll type it out. just really scared now bc constipation still persists, might even be getting worse. guess i’m also just looking to see if anyone else has experienced something similar.

I was walking our dog Charlie when I saw the graveyard for the first time. A little white fence, not even knee high, ran in a circle around maybe a dozen small headstones. There was space for a small gate along the fence but it was empty now, like a missing tooth. Whether the gate was removed or never existed, I couldn’t tell, but the rest of the fence was in good shape. It even looked freshly painted.
“What do you think, Charlie?” I asked, pulling up my hood.
The sky had been threatening rain all week and it was finally making good. The Weimaraner tilted his head at me and then looked off toward nothing. The fact that nothing happened to be in the same direction of the graveyard, well, I figured it was a coincidence. But dogs always know, don’t they? When something is bad and dangerous and hungry and close. Charlie knew, even warned me in his own way. A shame I didn’t notice until after most everybody was…after it was too late to do anything about it.
Nicole was hanging up pictures when we got back from our walk. I started unpacking one of the billion boxes scattered around the living room. It appeared to contain roughly four thousand dish towels and a single chipped coffee mug. Charlie watched us, patiently, filled with the usual, unshakeable belief that if he sat long enough and looked adorable enough, sooner or later, one of his owners would produce a treat. He was correct and it was my wife who folded first, tossing him a dried sweet potato thing which Charlie gratefully caught mid-air.
“Like the neighborhood?” Nicole asked.
“It’s kinda perfect. Lots of folks out and about, saw a few other families moving in, oh, and there’s even a graveyard in the middle of the development. You know, like how we always dreamed.”
Nicole made an “ick” sound but overall seemed happy.
I heard Bryan and Anna thumping around upstairs, most likely still arguing about who got the room with the attached bath. If they hadn’t sorted it out by dinner, I resolved to think up a weird game they could play where the winner got first bedroom dibs. It was still early in the afternoon, so I caught Nicole up on what I’d seen in our new neighborhood while we unpacked. We were far from the only new occupants of Stone Brooke; at least four other houses had SOLD signs driven into their front yards like stakes through freshly vanquished vampires.
The development was less than a year old and I doubted it would make it more than another six months before being filled to the brim. That was fine with me. It meant our property value would keep going up, up, up and away.
“Do you think we’ll make any friends with our neighbors?” Nicole asked, opening a new box to unpack.
“We’ll be having joint ski vacations and holiday parties in no time,” I guessed. “I’ll try to chat some up next time Charlie and I make our rounds. I’ll even knock on some graves, if you’d like.”
Nicole scowled and shook her head. A thousand teasing jokes about the living dead limping up to our house ran through my mind but each evaporated before escaping my mouth. Eight years of marriage had left me with a finely-honed sense of when to be a clown and when not to push it. And, the truth was, I felt a small twinge of discomfort myself whenever I thought about the little cemetery. It was a family plot, old; would the bodies even be embalmed? Or would you find something rotted down to tar and marrow if you dug up one of the plots?
I shivered.
Nicole smiled. “Looks like maybe somebody just walked over your grave.”
“Not possible. I’m not leaving a body behind when I go, remember? Viking funeral? Have my brother launch fire arrows at a gasoline-soaked canoe with me in it. And then scatter the ashes somewhere meaningful,” I added. “Like the Grand Canyon or the ocean or the last Blockbuster on Earth.
Nicole called for Anna and Bryan and we sat down to a family dinner of move-in-day sandwiches and popcorn and whatever other road-trip snacks we still had from the drive. It was a good night. Bryan was distracted by his phone, a new friend or a girl maybe. Anna was joking with Nicole about something…something to do with school. I can’t remember what, exactly. I really wish I could.
That was the last time we all sat down together as a family for dinner.
I woke up in the middle of our first night in the new house. Some outside sound had entered my dreams. What was it? A whispering or a knocking or rasping. No, not rasping–rustling. Like the sound of many things moving at once but moving quietly, carefully, deliberately. I sat up in bed, blinking against the total darkness of the room.
There it was again; the rustling. Faint and far away, I guessed, but it was so eerie that I could hear it at all.
“Hey, Nicole,” I whispered. “Hey, are you awake?”
Nothing in response other than that rustle again in the dark. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere below me. I got up and stumbled through the room without turning on a light. I don’t know why I didn’t wake Nicole up to listen; I wish I had. I guess I didn’t want her to think I was crazy if I was the only one who heard the sound.
The rustling was actually fainter when I finally made it downstairs. There was only a little light in the house spilling in from outside through half-curtained windows. I paused on the second to last step down and listened. The noise was moving away, growing softer and less frequent. By the time I stepped on the living room rug, the night was silent.
I waited, listened for almost a full minute, then started padding back up the stairs. There was something unsettling about the rustling that made me glad it had stopped. I’d watched a Civil War documentary a few years back and they demonstrated how a battlefield surgeon would operate by sawing through a half a pig carcass then sewing up the wound. They’d pushed in real close during the last part of the demo so you got a great look and even a great listen..
The rustling I’d heard outside the house that night reminded me of the sound of the needle and thread slithering through the pig’s flesh as the surgeon closed the cut.
Wind, I thought. Dream. HVAC system. The first signs of a brain tumor. But probably just the wind traveling through the branches of the maple trees that line our street.
There’s a landing at the top of the stairs with a big window that looks out over the front yard. A silver-gray column of moonlight fell in through the glass, giving enough light to make out a shadow standing on my lawn but not enough to see it clearly. It was a man, tall but a little bent. I remember thinking maybe he was hurt so I moved closer to the window for a cleaner look.
The guy was right at the edge of my yard, nearly in the road. He was facing my house but I couldn’t pick out any details about him. Too many clouds and moonshadows for a good look at his face. We both stared at the other for a minute then the stranger turned and began to walk away. Or, ‘walking’ isn’t entirely the right word. He moved like a man who had just learned to walk and he almost, almost had it figured out.
His knees threatened to collide more than once and he was moving with a limp, favoring his right side. I watched him fall over twice, each time dragging his body along the road for a dozen yards or so before shakily standing up and continuing on like a shell-shocked soldier wandering out of a trench. Each time the man got near a streetlight he would veer away from the glow, stumbling back into darkness and always moving toward the treeline that marked the edge of the woods around our neighborhood.
I stood, frozen in the moonlight, as the night visitor slipped into the forest, movements jerking like a puppet with stiff strings. Then the figure was gone and I was left blinking, wondering if I was dreaming or maybe this was what sleepwalking felt like. It didn’t seem real, any of it; not the rustling, not the man in the yard.
Once I was back in our bedroom, I considered waking up Nicole. But what was I going to tell her? Hey dear, sorry to startle you, I think there was a zombie outside our house. Or maybe just a creepy neighbor. Or maybe your husband is just going slowly, gently, completely crazy. Before getting back into bed, I went and lifted the corner of the curtain on the window, peeking out at the last spot in the treeline where I’d seen the weird guy slip away.
I’m not sure what I was expecting; some trail of destruction, maybe, like Godzilla’s wake on his way to Tokyo. But there was nothing, no sign, no proof there was ever anything at all. Just the sleeping neighborhood, tucked away in the middle of silent woods. The trees were slick with the day’s rain but that would all freeze overnight if it hadn’t already. Streetlights stood out like nails driven into the night, these little bright scars in the dark. I followed the line of them from where it ended at the road back to where it started at the center of the house development.
The graveyard sat high on a hill there at the heart of the neighborhood where the lights started. Or ended, I guess.
I tried to put the bizarre experience out of my mind and laid back in bed next to Nicole.
Charlie and I were on another walk first thing the next morning when we saw another moving truck. This time, however, it looked like the family was on their way out. We stood under a tree watching the movers buzzing back and forth, big, quiet men with thick black belts around their stomachs. The departing family was helping, a man and woman with three three little boys. There was something about the way the parents were behaving that made me stop and observe everybody for a little longer than I usually would, especially with Charlie trying to pull on his leash to go after a Canadian goose.
The adults were zipping boxes from the house to the moving van at warpspeed, almost like they had a deadline. At the same time, both the man and the woman looked so exhausted I was surprised they were standing, much less zipping around like hummingbirds that learned how to drink coffee. They eventually noticed me and Charlie standing across the street, so I waved and walked over.
“Howdy neighbors,” I said, unleashing the most cheerful grin I could drag out.
The couple stopped moving boxes. They stood together, between me and their kids, and I got the unexpected but absolutely unshakable idea they were scared of me. Or, at least, awfully interested in me keeping my distance from their children.
I tried to smile even more disarmingly but it probably went in the other direction.
“We just moved in,” I said, pointing down the street. “How are you all liking Stone Brooke?”
The pair shared a look. They were both around my age, maybe mid-30s, and made an interesting pair. The woman was very tall, her face soaking in shadows cast by a gardening hat. The man was short and balding but muscled like a powerlifter. He took a step toward me and I instinctively tensed up.
“You should leave,” the man said, barely above a whisper.
“Okay,” I said, backing up, “I didn’t mean to-”
“No, I don’t mean here,” he said. “I mean this neighborhood. It’s not a good place.”
His–I assumed wife–was looking around the nearby houses while we talked. Something must have spooked her, because she took two steps forward and leaned in.
“Walter, we don’t know him,” she whispered. “He might be-”
“Okay, June,” Walter said, “okay, you’re right, you’re right. Buddy, I’m sorry, we don’t have anything to talk about. We’re out of here, hopefully before dinner.”
The couple turned away and walked back to their kids. Walter hesitated in his driveway, giving me one last glance.
“Listen, I’m sorry, you seem normal enough,” he said, ignoring the glare from his wife. “But you really should get out of Stone Brooke as soon as you can. We’ve only been here a week but there’s already so much…shit, if you are normal, you wouldn’t believe me. And if you’re not, well, we’ll be gone by tonight either way.”
Walter’s wife returned to his side, one delicate hand on his bowling ball of a shoulder trying to steer him away. She must have noticed my absolute confusion; the little bit of her face I could see from under the hat softened.
“If anyone knocks on your door after dark, you shouldn’t answer. Don’t go out after sundown, either. And if anyone you know starts acting…” She looked back at her kids. Two of the three were moving boxes from the house to the truck in a mini-conga line but the third, a little boy, was standing on the porch staring at us. “If anyone you know starts acting strange, just don’t be alone with them or let anyone else be alone with them. Do you understand?”
“Not at all,” I admitted but the pair were already gone, joining their kids next to the U-Haul.
The one boy was still separate from the others, still watching me and Charlie while we stood on the sidewalk at the edge of their yard. Feeling uncomfortable and confused, I gave the kid a friendly wave. He just stared until we left.
I tried to shake off the creepy encounter. Ten minutes of walking in the sunshine had me feeling fine in no time. Charlie and I took a loop around the rest of Stone Brooke then started heading home. I wasn’t planning on walking by the cemetery but that’s the way our route ended up winding. It was even smaller upclose; not the dozen or so gravestones I’d guessed the day before but maybe only seven or eight. The stones themselves were small and weathered. They were carved of something that was white once but had been sun-stained to a dirty gray. I couldn’t make out any names or dates from where I was standing just outside of the short fence. It didn’t feel right stepping into the cemetery to get a better look. I told myself it was respect holding me back from getting any closer.
Well, that and the fact that Charlie was not a fan of the area at all. He began whining as we approached the hill; by the time we were at the fence, Charlie was tugging at his leash, trying to drag me back toward our house down the street. And, weighing in at nearly ninety pounds of muscle and anxiety, he nearly succeeded.
“Easy, Charlie, easy,” I said. “We’re not going near the dead people.” He tilted his head at me. “Okay, we’re not going any nearer than we already are. I just want to look for a second, alright?”
It wasn’t alright. Not by Charlie’s measure. After about two minutes of trying to stand without getting wrapped up like an AT-AT walker by my dog’s leash, I surrendered. I took one last look at the graveyard before I allowed Charlie to lead us away. There were a few trees scattered among the stones. They were bare of leaves, which was normal for the time of year, but they were also stunted and sickly. The trunk of the tree closest to the cemetery gate appeared to be dry-rotted, its bark flakey and brown-orange in spots.
The last thought I spared the cemetery before leaving was that I didn’t like the faint smell I detected. Nothing crazy, it didn’t smell like death or anything dramatic; it was an earthy scent, like a field after a rainstorm but with the hint of something spoiled under all of it.
I let Charlie lead us home, walking quickly but not rushing. Nicole was up unpacking again when we walked in. The kids were still asleep. My wife had on gray sweat pants and my faded Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt. Her hair was tied up in a scarf. I remember thinking how pretty she looked, brown eyes jumping from box-to-box, looking for her next target, and smiling as she worked.
We spent the rest of the day just settling in, checking out the house, unpacking and playing games with the kids. Then we DoorDashed Chinese for an early dinner. I remember it being early enough that the sun was still out when it was delivered and just setting when Nicole took Charlie out for his evening walk.
Charlie returned alone half an hour later, dragging his leash and looking stressed beyond anything I’d ever seen from him.
“Hey, hey, buddy,” I said, opening the door he was scratching at. “Where’s your mom, Charlie?”
I stepped out onto the front porch, expecting to see Nicole running down the street after Charlie gave her the slip. But it was starting to rain and no one was moving anywhere I could see.
“Nicole,” I said loudly. “Hey, Nicoollle.”
She didn’t call back or come jogging down the road. My throat was feeling weird, so I swallowed then yelled her name, much louder this time. I tried to keep any tinge of panic out of my voice.
“Nicole!”
Charlie was sitting on the floor, still on his leash, looking up at me. He was whining so quietly I didn’t notice at first. I pulled my phone from my pocket and called Nicole. It rang for what felt like a few years before going to her voicemail. I tried again with the same result, then yelled out again, and then another call.
I felt it crawling up and over me, that panic, the anxious madness that you feel when a normal day teeters on the beam before falling into an awful damn day. That happened to me once before when I was in college and my uncle died suddenly in a car crash. I remember the phone call, the confusion, the resistance to the growing, unavoidable certainty that your life just changed in a terrible way.
My pulse was up and my stomach was cramped. I took a deep breath and called my wife for the fourth time in about two minutes. Maybe her phone was on silent. Maybe she was still out searching for Charlie?
In the rain? I asked myself.
Sure. She loves Charlie. She would look for him in the rain or a blizzard or a volcanic eruption.
“Okay,” I said out loud, “but after she couldn’t find Charlie, she would call me so we could all look. She would call.”
What if she was hurt?
The thought went off like a molotov in my mind, spreading until it was the only idea I could focus on. I pictured Nicole laying in some ditch or hollow with a broken leg, black sky pouring down on her. She’d call if she could, if that was the scenario, but if she couldn’t reach her phone for some reason, then she’d be counting on me going to find her.
I took Charlie off his leash and hustled upstairs. Bryan was in his room unpacking and Anna was sitting in a window nook reading. She looked up at me when I left the stairs and asked where mom was since she’d heard me calling outside for her. I told both of the kids that their mom was probably meeting some new neighbors and I was just going to pop out for a second to see if she needed anything. Anna was ten and accepted my excuse with a smile before going back to her book. Bryan, however, was thirteen and had a much better ear for lies. He gave me an odd glance but I smiled and promised I’d be back in two shakes.
Two shakes turned into nearly thirty minutes of me scouring Stone Brooke. It wasn’t a big development, maybe fifty or sixty houses spreading out in rings with the old cemetery in the middle. That was where the original farmhouse was when all of the land was owned by one family. I remember the real estate agent telling us that the day we toured the house.
It’s strange the places your mind will go for a distracting memory when your agitation is slouching slowly toward hysteria. I peppered my foot search for Nicole with frequent phone calls, which only resulted in stacking voicemails over voicemails. I scoured all three main streets, hood trickling with rainwater, my flashlight sweeping between houses and under trees. After an hour, I’d checked the neighborhood twice over, all except for the little graveyard. I wasn’t even trying to consciously avoid it but I realized I had.
The waist-high gate was unlocked and swung open when I lifted the latch, which was just starting to go to rust. I got the sense that the cemetery was once well-cared for and only recently had been more or less forgotten. There were a few weeds among the tombstones and a glass vase filled with nearly mummified flowers in front of one grave in particular but there wasn’t any sign of Nicole. The ground was soft from the rain but it was too dark to see much of anything. I did note that the entire hill was messy, more dirt than grass and quickly turning into pure mud.
“I hope none of the coffins float out,” I muttered, drawing my flashlight across the eroded markers.
There were lots of shadows and sunken places on the ground but nothing deep enough to hide a person. I walked home quickly, trying to stay a few steps ahead of the cold fear that kept flashing every imaginable horror that might have happened to my wife through my mind.
If I knew then what I know now about what actually happened to Nicole…the worst, darkest, most vile things I came up with, they weren’t even close.
I made my way home after the graveyard to tell my kids their mom was missing. Just the thought of starting the conversation was filling me with dread and a terrible guilt. They were children; how were they going to process this new, ugly thing? I’d do my best to summarize the situation for them and then I would call the police. That was the plan. Needing to wait twenty-four hours to file a missing persons report is a myth, I knew that. But the sheer surreal misery of the night was blanking my mind on what I would tell everyone.
Nicole went out to walk the dog right around sunset, so about 5pm or 5:30pm. Charlie came back holding his leash at 6:41pm. I remember the exact time because I checked my phone to see if there were any missed calls from Nicole as soon as Charlie appeared.
While I was walking up our driveway, I kept mentally rehearsing how I was going to break the news to the kids. Was there any good way to tell children their mom was missing? Should I inject optimism, sugar-coat, make promises? Or just be frank and completely honest and tell them I didn’t know if…
Not a thought I wanted to finish, even in my own mind, and I opened our front door still undecided how I was going to handle the next part. Then I saw Nicole sitting at the kitchen table playing cards with the kids and I froze. I stood there in the doorway staring until Anna noticed me and told me, look, mom’s home! I managed a limp smile and a nod.
My wife was facing away from me and when she turned in her chair, for an instant, I thought I was looking at a stranger. Then she smiled, really smiled, and it was just Nicole there, the same girl I’d met at a friend’s Halloween party fifteen years ago but now even more lovely. I grinned, still confused but nearly shaking with relief.
“Where were you?” I asked, attempting to sound calmer than I felt. “When Charlie came back, I went looking for you. I was worried that…well, I was worried.”
Nicole took a second to reply. Several seconds, actually. An odd look passed over her face, eyes closing, her jaw tight. Then she snapped out of it, whatever it was, and smiled wider.
“The dog had slipped away to chase a squirrel,” Nicole said. “I’m fine. We’re fine. We’re all fine. We just lost track of time. Sorry to worry you.”
“Okay but you could have called,” I pointed out. “And I called you.”
Another pause before she had an answer.
“I lost my phone chasing the dog,” Nicole finally replied. “And then we got all turned around and mixed up. New neighborhood, you know? Are you hungry?”
In our years together, we’d both gotten good at knowing when the other one was lying. That night, I genuinely could not tell. What she was telling me was plausible if not at all how I expected her to react to Charlie running. For that matter, it was already unusual that our dog would take off after a squirrel. And why would Nicole lie to me about all of it anyway?
But I pressed all of those concerns down into my chest and locked them there. It was a good night, I told myself, an eventful night, a terrifying night for a bit there, but now, everything was okay. We had all sat and played cards, then ate dinner, and then unpacked the last of our boxes before bed.
Nicole kept watching me all throughout the night. I acted like I didn’t notice. She was acting normal enough other than these brief pauses now and again, like she was stopping to think about what she was saying carefully. Her nose also began bleeding, which she stuffed with tissue, blaming the bleed on allergies. My biggest fear that night was she’d had a medical event or something and needed to go to the hospital. A fall turned into a concussion, maybe.
Or, God, a stroke?
Ultimately, Nicole wasn’t showing any signs of an emergency, so I tried to relax.
Still, I found myself watching Nicole for the rest of the night. She caught me looking while she was brushing her teeth. All she did was stop and smile at me. We laid down in bed and I immediately clicked off the light, telling Nicole that I was worn out. After a minute of silence in the dark, I felt my wife’s fingers on my shoulder. She pressed a fingertip to my neck and lightly brushed the space between my jawline and collarbone. It made me shiver; not in a pleasant way.
“Hey, that tickles,” I said, turning away.
Nothing for a moment and then her fingers were pushing against the back of my neck, not hard enough to be painful but not exactly comfortable either.
“What, uh, what are you doing?” I asked.
In response, Nicole kissed my shoulder. Or, it was half a kiss and half almost a bite. She didn’t break the skin but it was awfully close. I slipped away, putting space between us by rolling off of the bed.
“What the Hell?” I snapped.
Nicole didn’t say anything back. There was no light in the room, not even moonlight. In the blackness, I heard my wife shifting in bed.
“Nicole?”
Still nothing from my wife and now she wasn’t moving at all. Seconds stretched out and all I could think to do was stand dully waiting for things to feel normal.
“I just remembered I need to send some emails back to the office,” I told the darkness. “I shouldn’t be too long. I’ll just be downstairs. Are you heading to sleep?” No answer. “Okay, love you, Nicole. Good night.”
I heard her shifting again as I was leaving the bedroom. It was louder than before, a rustling that reminded me of something I couldn’t place. Whatever it was, I wasn’t a fan.
I ended up sleeping on the couch. I had a dream that people were standing outside of our house trying to look in the windows. There was the rustling sound from earlier, like running water or wind through a forest. I woke up to find Nicole standing halfway down the stairs, silhouetted by the light from my open laptop. She froze when I looked at her, stared at me, then softly walked back up the stairs.
There was no more sleep for me that night. I stayed on the couch watching TV with the lights on until dawn.

First/Previous
“I never should have taken you back there,” I said to Andrew, “Should’ve just left that place to rot.” I shook my head.
It was morning and the saferoom was small, but quiet—I’d taken the precaution of planting a large metal sheet across the only door and relaxing with my weight against it. Gemma slept soundly with Trouble lying alongside her while I sat cross legged on the floor at her feet in the dark and Andrew stood in the corner opposite me, arms crossed, seemingly lost in some deep thought. “No one knew what was happening.” There was a long pause where he shuffled his feet and the growl of Gemma’s snore resounded off the walls of the small closet. Then he added, “Do you think it was overrun?”
“Golgotha?” I asked. Gemma shifted in her sleep but was unaware beyond.
“Sure.”
“It’s doubtful. I think the wall men probably handled the situation the same way they always do—with enthusiastic violence.” I pointed to the hanging shelf by his shoulder and asked, “Hand me one of them books of matches, would you?” Andrew reached out with the hand that was missing and froze, stared at the spot the appendage had once been, and then grimly smiled before reaching with his other. He tossed me the matches and I lit the cigarette I’d only just rolled from a tin I’d stored in the safehouse ages ago and shook the match till it had a smoke tail. “Stale.” But I continued puffing till the fire was constant and the small room smelled completely of it. “I imagine there’s a lot of dead folks this morning, but I doubt the walls are gone. Though,” I thought of Dave, “If that explosion was anything to go off—the underground’s destroyed. Hard to say what’s happened to the place they manufacture munitions.” The young man looked old in the dark room with exaggerated creases in his face. “How’re you feeling?”
“In general?”
“No. How’s the wounds?”
“I still hurt all the time.”
“You might have chronic aches from here on.”
“Chronic?”
“You might have pains that’ll never stop. For the rest of your life. But I couldn’t say for sure. We’ll ask in Babylon. Not my expertise. They know better than me.”
“You said you should’ve left that place to rot. So, why didn’t you? If I could move like you, I’d go anywhere else. I would’ve done it a long time ago too.” Andrew rubbed his cheek while he spoke then planted his chin in his right palm, casually glancing to Gemma, perhaps fantasizing over the life they might’ve lived; the expression he wore was distant and the young man—as I’d learned in caring after him—could seemingly dissociate at will.
The girl’s snoring ceased and was replaced by a heavy breath, and I watched her shift on the makeshift bedding.
“Reasons come and go as they do,” I answered then shrugged.
“I’ve never seen her like that,” he said, eyes still locked on Gemma’s sleeping form, “She used to be so kind, so gentle.” He shook his head. “You think she did it? You really think she killed him?”
“Harold?”
Andrew nodded.
Gemma wasn’t sleeping any longer and answered abruptly, raising herself up to a sit, rubbing her eyes then looking incredulously through them in slits. “Why not just ask me?” She displayed hands still stained dull red from the previous night. “What’s this say then?” Trouble shifted nervously beside her.
“I don’t know,” said Andrew.
“What’s it say?” she repeated.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll tell you right now—I’d do it again.” She was immediately lucid and nearly frightening; there was a thing in her eyes I couldn’t read. “Think you can just go off and talk about me like I’m not here, huh? That’s total nonsense. I can’t believe it.”
I stared at the space between my crossed legs on the floor.
“That’s not how I meant it at all,” said Andrew, “It just worries me.”
“You said you didn’t love me anymore,” a hitch seemed to catch in her throat (there was the humanity), but she muscled through it, “So worry about yourself and keep me out of it!”
Trouble let go of a small whine and Gemma was there to the dog, rubbing her hand across its brow, and the dog caught my eyes from the corner of its own and I looked away.
“There, there,” said the girl to the dog.
“I’m sorry,” said Andrew.
“Keep it.”
I coughed into my fist and whispered dryly, “If you two keep at it, you’ll wake the whole city to us.”
Andrew nodded and Gemma watched the dog.
“So, you wanted to see the wizards so badly?” I asked them. “You wanted to see where they live? How they live?”
“We’ve seen the wizards,” said Gemma bluntly.
“Sure, but you’ve never seen a library, have you?”
“The Bosses have their books all stacked on shelves too, if that’s what you mean.” Gemma’s tone was far off somewhere and she did not remove her eyes from the dog.
“Sure, but it ain’t just shelves of books—there’s loads. Halls, walkways of them stacked so high you’d need a ladder to reach the tops of them.”
“You were the one that tried talking me out of leaving home,” said Gemma, “Remember?”
I watched her blood-stained hands pet the dog and she finally looked up from the mutt to me. “It doesn’t seem you’d be welcome home anymore.” I offered a crude grin. “Maybe be excited for it then.”
Andrew hunkered and leaned his curved back against the wall opposite and scratched his cheek. “How long’s it take?”
“If I was on my own,” I stared at the dark ceiling overhead where I watched dust collect in swirls over our heads, “It’d be two weeks and a day or more depending. With ya’ll too? I don’t know.”
“I’m thirsty,” said Gemma, moving to stand in the mess of blankets; the closet was not enough room for the four of us and the dampness of our collective breathing created a mugginess.
Andrew, who had the foresight to pack small rations, passed her his water gourd and she gulped some back without a word and Trouble looked up from across her paws where she laid her head. Upon Gemma returning the water, the boy took a bowl from his pack and poured a few drinks for the dog and rubbed its ear.
“I’m going out to scout. No fighting while I’m away.” I said and began rising, “You,” I pointed to the boy, “Put this metal sheet against the door and your weight against the sheet and don’t open for anyone but me.”
Andrew stared at me then nodded and I slipped out from the safehouse, into a mostly destroyed storefront which harbored the closet we hid in, into the street with shadows of cyclopean structures which towered seemingly to heaven and my mind went to Dave again and how I’d been overtop that industrial building, how I possibly might’ve ‘slipped’ and fallen to an early demise. Was Dave still alive? He was cunning and brave in doing what he’d done, but certainly dead. It was again the story of heroes. The primeval consequence for any person with goodness left in them; it could and would wring them dry—whether it be demons or fellows of their kind, it comes for heroes all the same.
I’d not slept the previous night and my senses were dulled by it and every long shadow in the periphery felt as though it might reach out and snatch me; it was not so much paranoia, but merely a standard reflex of sleep deprivation. Still, I hugged the walls where I could and crept through moldering vehicles which stood in the way. There I came to Fif Aven and I recalled Aggie but briefly and crawled into a corroded pickup truck with its passenger door missing; I slid onto the bench seat, disturbing so many years of dust and it choked me, but I lay there on the seat and stared at the cab’s roof and inhaled the stuff of the old world—certainly there was trouble then too, but what could be worse?
I rested shortly and listened to the dead silence and at times I caught my breath for it was overwhelming.
The thought of leaving those children to their demise arose—I could move quickly enough on my own.
After resting a while, I scooted from the truck and carried on, more tired than before, but I moved through the narrow avenues of rubble, going as quietly as ever until I came to the open field which encompassed Golgotha. There the city stood still, and prone bodies were taken before the exterior of the gate where they burned on pyre piles, flames melting the horizon in their spots. I held my breath for a moment, caught in the far-off presence of those fires and I wondered if Dave was there, burning. If not that, then it would be worse. If not that, then they’d make a spectacle of it in the square. The figures which lugged the others from the city gates were small pinpricks across the skyline and I breathed deep and could almost taste ash in the air, then I returned to the closet where I’d left Gemma and Andrew.
Each of them looked on at me with questioning brows without words and I told them to shimmy around in the small room so I could take account of the supplies. Sleep would be no issue as long as no one minded the hot breath of the person next to them.
“We’ll stay here tonight then move on,” I said. I scanned the hanging shelf; there were canned foods and a bit of tobacco lined there and a single lantern. I shook the lantern and a bit of oil swished within it. “No light tonight. No talking either.” I put my hand to my head and rubbed my forehead.
Andrew remained over my shoulder and said, “I’ve got some water—a little food too.”
“Good.”
That night, we ate from cans without words and when Trouble messed in the corner, Gemma scooped it and removed it from our miniscule dwelling; the smell of blood was strong on her and though I expected the two children’s bickering to continue, it was gone entirely and we arranged ourselves haphazardly in the closet, our collective legs like slats parallel and our backs against walls and Trouble took to Gemma.
Before it went full dark, Andrew examined the discoloring around his empty wrist and then I saw him remove the jar which contained his hand from his small knapsack—the thing was full on rotting with a congealing ooze forming along the base of the jar, but no smell escaped the container—he sat there with it, holding it inches from his face and he frowned.
“Why don’t you throw it out?” asked Gemma; she idly patted Trouble’s neck.
“It’s mine, isn’t it?” said the boy.
“So? It’s nasty.”
“If it was yours, would you keep it?” he asked.
Gemma shook her head.
“Well, it’s mine.”
She made a face.
We slept in terrible discomfort and Trouble awoke more than once in the night, letting go of little growls or whines—she was stuck with nightmares. Sometimes, Andrew might offer a comment about how Gemma should keep the dog quiet, but it was otherwise quiet.
At daybreak, we ate then arranged what could be gathered for the march onward; I put the shotgun sling over my shoulder, and we took into the ruins where the sun came through destruction in buildings in splintered rays and the dog kept to Gemma’s side with a bit of improvised twine as a lead.
“What’s it like out here all the time? You come out here all the time—you probably know more freedom than most, huh?” said Gemma.
“If you need to talk, you should whisper it. That said, you shouldn’t talk,” I hushed the words as I took to a nearby wall and the troupe followed, remaining in the relative shade of the buildings which towered over.
“Fine,” said Gemma, taking the center with the dog while Andrew trailed at the rear, “Then what’s all these?”
“What’s what?”
“These big tall buildings everywhere.”
“It’s our history,” I said.
“Of course, but why are they here?”
“It’s hard to imagine there was ever so many people for these.”
“There were billions at a time,” I said.
We came to an intersection of streets where vehicles were piled high, and we cut through a corner structure where all but the supports of the ground floor had long ago been blown away; arrangements of jagged rebar bent from exposed flooring like stalks and Gemma lifted the dog to not tangle the leash. Our footsteps were swift but not silent from all the debris.
“What’s that?” asked Andrew, joining in.
“What’s what? And whisper it for Christ sake.” I hissed the words, taking through a wide threshold into the street once more.
“You said billions. What’s that?”
“It’s a lot—a really big number.” I let go of a sigh and pivoted; the children froze in their walking and bumbled into one another. I put my forefinger to my lips. “No more,” I said.
And there was no more as we went.
The sun beat down on us more and as we angled through wreckages, through those pathways which took us our way, we sweated, and steam rose off our heads and the dog’s panting was the only noise, save our footfalls. There in that place, there in the plains beyond or in the mountains behind and yonder was where the souls of the dying were and we were with them and as I led, I felt aimless because leading was never my game.
A sky of rust domineered, and we took a moment in the shade of a brutal façade; within the emptied holes of a windowless storefront were long dark shadows, and the places where light met, I spied clothes on lines and spirals of racks and the clothes were so insect picked and dried one could assume they’d fall to dust if they were lifted from their stations.
We drained what freshwater we had Gemma hunkered down, first to pat Trouble then to tear strips from the hem of her robes. She created terrible scarves and handed one to both me and Andrew; the boy looked at her curiously while she wrapped a garland of the material around her own head.
“For your heads,” she shrugged as though it didn’t matter, “The sun might blister your skin.”
We pushed on, each of us peering through the slits of our makeshift headgear and when the time came and when plants—as green as dreams and more foreign—began to gather on either side of the place we walked, I motioned for another brief pause and they gathered there, Gemma’s eyes were serious, perhaps furious, and Andrew looked on at the vegetation which sprung through the overwhelming concrete with no less wonder than should be expected.
I first looked to Gemma, “It’s ahead. Not far now.”
She nodded that she knew where I meant.
“You know then?” I asked the girl.
Another nod followed.
Andrew put his hand to his brow and peered through the high light and whispered, “I think there’s fruits ahead. We hardly get fruits back home. They look big too. Trees like I’ve never seen.”
I put my hand to his shoulder. “Don’t eat them. Don’t even touch them. Alright?”
“Alright.” Andrew’s attention went to Gemma there next to him and he asked, “What’s the matter with you? You know this place?”
“It’s a garden ahead,” Her eyes moved from his to mine, “Right?”
“Right.”
“Why?” she asked.
“A garden? That’s incredible!” said Andrew.
“It is not,” said Gemma.
I took them in closer so that we were whispers away and we curled our bodies partially into the black storefront. “Ya’ll need to stay close me,” I said, “Stay close—Gemma, you carry the mutt. Andrew, you stay close too. Don’t speak. Don’t speak with what you see there.”
“What?” asked the boy.
“Shh,” said the girl, reaching out with one of those red stained hands to touch me, “Do we need to?”
Did we? I nodded. “Don’t touch anything. I reckon you two still have that holy spirit of Golgotha in you so if you feel it then pray and Gemma, I know you know some from Lady so say them quick and make it right and let’s go.”
They prayed for Jesus, for Elohim, for safety. I watched and Trouble watched them too.
We went to the garden and there was no flute playing, no sound of hooves—there was no sound at all but the baking of the earth and the small rhythm of fresh leaves caught in whatever dismal wind there was there in that place. Taking through the garden, there were trees which arched overhead—indeed the fruits that hung from those branches were moistened like with rain and bright and multicolored—and the shrubbery too was thick among our ankles and then there was Baphomet’s cobblestone yard with a throne and the well and there on a risen tablet by the throne, Baphomet sat, chest glistening in the sunlight, legs crossed, head arched back so that its head could see the sky.
So, you’ve come again. This time you’ve brought thrice the power to bargain with. Harlan, oh—don’t look at me like that and come closer and tell me what it is you wish. Baphoment shifted to catch me in its eye and then slid to sit with its legs off the edge of the great stone. You look tired. Is it perhaps that you have come to keep me company? Have you given in to those curious desires which compel humankind? I can take you to those places far and gaping. There are limits to your form, but form is changed easily of course—with time and pressure. Curious that you would arrive with tampered merchandise. That should be discounted. Still. The demon took note of Gemma flanking so closely to my left that we were touching; she carried Trouble and the dog shivered—the girl shivered too.
In a puff of smoke, Baphomet disappeared then reappeared directly in front of me; a hot breath escaped its snout visibly and then it took in the smell of us.
Mmm. That sin is on you all. Have I ever told you the euphoric nature of it?
“I’ve come to make a deal,” I said.
Baphomet cocked its head. If you’ve come for a return, I’m afraid the girl you left with me is long transformed. For, after all, is easy. I doubt you’ve have use for the state she’s in. Still, The creature stood tall so it towered over us then arched low to peer into Gemma’s eyes. Did you miss me? Is that it?
“It’ll be the last deal I make.”
It seemed the creature smiled, if it was possible. Promise?
“Yes.”
I get you? That’d certainly make others green with envy.
“Yes.”
What is it you want then?
“I want firepower,” I held the shotgun out in front of me, “And time enough to do what I need to do.”
Give me your hand. Reach out. It’ll hurt like the dickens for only a second. Baphomet extended its claw-like hands, beckoning my own.
I put out my right hand and the creature took it, drove the nail of its forefinger into my forearm nearest the elbow, then traced a shallow cut down the length of my arm till it met the top of my hand. The towering beast let go then looked me over, snorted, tapped a hoof, then crossed its arms. Blood dripped freely from the mark on my arm. “Will you make that deal?” I asked.
The demon shook its head. I won’t touch you. No one will.
“Why?”
The thing which I might want from you is not something you can give freely. It belongs to someone already.
I bit my tongue then shook my head. “Who?”
What fun would there be in me telling? Baphomet traced around our small group and came to a halt at the right shoulder of Andrew; the boy closed his eyes. I could tell you for a trade though.
I shook my head and turned to leave.
Mm. Harlan. You break my heart.
We left the garden, not looking back, not even when Baphomet took to playing its tune—though the sun beat us down there was a coolness which passed through me and I wondered if the same could be said for Gemma or Andrew; I caught the girl’s eyes as she carried the whimpering pup and there was a message there, a telepathy I understood and it was maybe sorrow or her unforgotten pain. I willed us on, and they followed, and we went to the safehouse up the stairs to rest and regroup.
I looked out over the street where the shadows cut darker as the sun began to rest and Andrew played a game of tug with the mutt, and I smoked while Gemma joined me at the tall windows.
“It’s the smell,” she said to me, “I smell that thing all the time. I scarcely remember the creature, but I know that’s where you found me,” there was a brief pause as she crossed her arms over her chest, “Isn’t it?”
I nodded, “Yeah.”
She hiked the arms of her robes up and examined the scars there and then looked at me then let the robes slink down her arms as her fists met her by her sides. Gemma pressed near the glass.
“Do they burn?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“I might have something better for you to wear. Something with less catch when you move. Pants. Shirts. You’ve got boots on, haven’t you?”
She twisted the torn hems of her robes to expose her leathered feet.
I traced the walls—stacks crates of goods were there (surely I’d find something suitable for travel).
We found water in the safehouse and food and light too. When dark came, we huddled around her lanterns and Andrew assisted in watching the boiling pot. Gemma changed, cut her hair to her scalp, and washed her hands. With her new garb, her throat stood more exposed, and the healing wounds there were like embedded ropes in her flesh. Andrew kept his eyes flittering, his focus remained on the food, but always his gaze was primarily steals of her.
They were in love, for sure—anyone could see it (I could). It truly was a pain to be in the presence of two young people, the potential, the possibilities of a true life—I should not go on. Hope breeds determination, but anything more is weakness.
No one had an easy time with sleep that night, save Trouble; each of us lined ourselves by the windows and looked out to see glowing mutant eyes wilder than any electric light. We shut off the lanterns and sat with bellies full, a spiderlike skin taker lumbered through the avenue which we overlooked—the center mass of its body, stilted high from the ground on those spear legs, traced before our eyes and it was all black and fuzzy—and the children whispered to ask me what it was, and I told them I didn’t know exactly.
“They’re faster than they seem,” I said.
Gemma touched the window glass with her palm.
“They suck up your skin,” I said, “They take it right off your body.”
Gemma sat up straighter and withdrew her hand from the glass, leaving a hand mark there where the sweat of her fingers was. Their faces were coated in the bluish milk glaze of the moon and stars. “How?” she asked.
I moved from the window, leaving them there to watch. “Don’t make noise tonight. I’m going to sleep dead. I put a bucket in the corner over there if you need it.”
The bedroll smelled of mold, of dust, for it was an old thing I’d tucked away years prior, and I figured I would never have a use for it. It was for emergencies. Most of the supplies I kept were like that. They were things I hoped to never need.
As I stretched on my back, staring at the dead ceiling overhead, I listened to the silence of the ruins periodically broken from the whispers of Andrew and Gemma as they continued their talking, and I closed my eyes and directly before I was ferried on to the place of dreams, the face of Dave took to view in the black backdrop of my eye lids and there was Boss Maron; I imagined they put the poor rebel to his knees and blew his brains across the ground. Or worse. It was probably worse. It always was.
Just as the world was gone, it was back again; Andrew shook me awake and Trouble was growling. I propelled from the bedroll, eyes darting in every direction, and I half imagined we were under attack from Leviathan, but there was no such thing. Gemma stood by the locked door which connected to the stairwell, and someone banged with their fist on the other side. The door rattled in its frame, and I launched into position by the girl—her stance was half crouched, and she seemed frozen solid. I motioned at the door and she shrugged.
A voice came from the other side of the door, bemoaning desperation.
Help! said the voice, high pitched, feminine seeming. Please, help me!
“We should help them,” said Andrew, “God, open the door.”
“Shh,” Gemma put her index finger to her pursed lips, “Shut up. Don’t be stupid!”
They looked at me and Trouble continued growling.
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USA- Reluctantly had jaw surgery June 2022 to correct a very very minor overbite that my family was certain would cause me to lose my teeth in old age. Had agreed to surgery to correct my bite years before when I was 18 (a decision I probably wouldn't have made if I was older), then one second pair of braces later and a few weeks out from the surgery, my orthodontist, family, and tacitly my surgeon once again pressured me into getting an additional procedure to correct the alignment that they'd do while I was under. Alignment correction seemed pretty cosmetic and esp w 1 in 10 patients get long-lasting numbness I didn't want to risk it, but they said the odds were much lower for someone as young and healthy as me and I *sighs audibly* gave in.
Massive massive regret.
2 years later - I still have a tight numbness throughout my lower lip and chin - it's like I'm wearing an invisible chinstrap. The area is also always sore/sensitive, I have weird perennial aches in around my teeth and gums and jaw, and additionally I have occasional short-lasting, throbbing pains in my lower jaw and sometimes around my ears (maybe once a week or so?) that cause me to be totally brought down for a minute or two.
The surgery has made most mouth-based activities awkward, uncomfortable, and less efficient: talking, smiling, opening at dentist, eating hard-to-chew foods, theater acting, etc. The worst thing is how much worse kissing is. You only feel half of a kiss. Being with my girlfriend, it's sometimes not even enjoyable.
There are days where the numbness is all-consuming and it sends me spiraling into depression. Most days, are okay and it stays being the background noise, but being honest the surgery and numbness have probably wounded my confidence and self-image more than I'd admit. Someone once compared lower jaw numbness to getting bad tattoo- a bit of a bummer if you dwell on it, but something you shouldn't have to think about often. You can get rid of a tattoo though. Recently, the permanence of the numbness is starting to set in - that I'll never be able to have that part of me back, that an integral part of myself is lost forever, and it's all my fault for giving in to family/doctor pressure. 🫤
Is there any hope that numbness might come back over time? Any treatments or specialists worth looking into? Any hope at all?
Note: For those seeing this who have yet to have surgery and are feeling anxious, just want to emphasize firstly, that everyone has different needs - while mine were fairly minor, some folks really really need jaw surgery even at the cost permanent numbness. Second, that the sort of post-op symptoms I have are not guaranteed and everyone else I know who has had jaw surgery regained sensation after a few months.

USA- Reluctantly had jaw surgery June 2022 to correct a very very minor overbite that my family was certain would cause me to lose my teeth in old age. Had agreed to surgery to correct my bite years before when I was 18 (a decision I probably wouldn't have made if I was older), then weeks out from the surgery, my doctors and family once again talked me into getting an additional procedure while I was under to correct the alignment. Alignment correction seemed pretty cosmetic and esp w 1 in 10 patients get long-lasting numbness I didn't want to risk it, but they said the odds were much lower for someone as young and healthy as me.
Massive massive regret.
2 years later - I still have a tight numbness throughout my lower lip and chin - it's like I'm wearing an invisible chinstrap. The area is also always sore/sensitive, I have weird perennial aches in around my teeth and gums and jaw , and additionally I have occasional short-lasting, throbbing pains in my lower jaw and sometimes around my ears (maybe once a week or so?) that cause me to be totally brought down for a minute or two.
The surgery has made most mouth-based activities awkward, uncomfortable, and less efficient: talking, smiling, opening at dentist, eating hard-to-chew foods, theater acting, etc. The worst thing is how much worse kissing is. You only feel half of a kiss. Being with my girlfriend, it's sometimes not even enjoyable.
There are days where the numbness is all-consuming and it sends me spiraling into depression. Most days, are okay and it stays being the background noise, but being honest the surgery and numbness have probably wounded my confidence and self-image more than I'd admit. Someone once compared lower jaw numbness to getting bad tattoo- a bit of a bummer if you dwell on it, but something you shouldn't have to think about often. You can get rid of a tattoo though. Recently, the permanence of the numbness is starting to set in - that I'll never be able to have that part of me back, that an integral part of myself is lost forever, and it's all my fault for giving in to family/doctor pressure. 🫤
Is there any hope that numbness might come back over time? Any treatments or specialists worth looking into? Any hope at all?
Note: For those seeing this who have yet to have surgery and are feeling anxious, just want to emphasize firstly, that everyone has different needs - while mine were fairly minor, some folks really really need jaw surgery even at the cost permanent numbness. Second, that the sort of post-op symptoms I have are not guaranteed and everyone else I know who has had jaw surgery regained sensation after a few months.

Just quick addendum: this will actually be three parts. Is it bad news though? Not really. If you're reading this that means that part 3 is already published and available to read, because I will be publishing them at the same time. Basically, as I recall all of this, I didn't realize how much there was. Not the biggest deal in the world, but luckily I realized it's really just better to break it into a third part before I released it. So anyway, here's not one but two new parts, concluding this initiation into my personal transformation.
On a perfect mid March morning, I woke up to the sun breaking. I heard birds chirping. I took a shower, did my morning workout routine, took another shower, and put on my outfit. Then I did my makeup. It was 73°F. I remember this day clearly as I remember all the events of the game clearly. Down to the last vivd detail. I do this because this marks a powerful point of symbolic and honestly even literal shifts inside myself and my life itself. The weather had been nice the previous few days, and I smiled when I thought about the game. "The game" being this thing I brought up in part 1: "dress thrills". I was about to play it for the first time. The idea was, I had to dress as slutty as I thought I could get away with without looking like I did it on purpose. To learn to really walk that line. I hadn't necessarily gone out of my way to "dress down" so to speak, except sometimes for my husband, which was always meant to be obvious signs for him anyway. This was supposed to be subtle. How was I going to pull this off? Up to this point I don't believe I've ever given a description of myself. So I'm a 5ft tall blonde woman in her late fourties. I weigh around 120lbs, and the running joke with my friends and later even my mom was that all my body weight was in my ass. Basically I've always been a short skinny girl with a fat ass. I have a pretty face, I've aged pretty well. My complection is more pale, but I tan easily. I have a pretty happenin rack for my age if I do say so myself, I'm a low C. Them ol gals still ain't what they used to be, but i think they're doin great. Anyway, as for my self description, just use your imagination for anything else you'd want to know. So, as I was saying, I was excited when I got dressed. All I was basically going to do was tell a buncha burley boys to haul boxes and totes downstairs from one corner of the basement to the other. Regardless, I had to dress practically. So I wore some high waisted blue jeans. They were elastic blue jeans (jeggings) that hugged my ass tight, to the last outline, and I knew it. Then I wore a low cut top that hung just above my midriff enough to be a tease but not show too much. My top was just revealing enough. My makeup wasn't done super detailed or anything glamorous, but I was still on point. My hair was tied back into a ponytail and I had my white cloudfoam Adidas on because them thangs are comfy. I also put on a cheap bracelet I had sitting around. I had maybe worn it twice before but I'd had it a few years. It was a little rhinestone bracelet in the shape of a halved plumb, pit in view, with little pink and purple and green stones sparkling. As I pulled it out of the box I found myself appreciating it again, even if it was a bit big on my wrist, so I threw it on real quick. I heard the ring of the doorbell. I walked toward it with a mild anxiety, and suddenly became more aware of my ass and it's bounce as I stepped. I took a deep breath and remembered I was getting a bunch of work done for free either way. I felt a bit better. I opened the door and looked up to see the six man crew ready to help me out. Joe was in the front and Brandon right behind him. "Joe!" I greeted him genuinely happily and opened the door. His familiar face warmed me up. "So good to see you!" I walked back and signaled them in. Joe of course was the first one in, so as the boys trailed in behind him I gave him a little hug. It already felt a little too natural for both of us. It was very brief but I fought not to wrap my leg around him. I swear I felt a quick twitch in his right hip. I think he fought something too, in the half second. "We're happily here to help" he said, with his usual wry smile and well meaning look. He's a "helper" if you understand. He spends most of his spare time volunteering to help people somehow anyway. He really wants the best for people. I smiled ear to ear just knowing he was here to offer help with no expectation of anything: just a good man. A gorgeous one. A moment later Brandon trailed behind him and we hugged too. That moment wasn't as discreetly intense, but I'm pretty sure I felt something there too. Now Brandon for a time would call me by my last name, and because Valantine's day has become my favorite Holiday, I'll go with the name "Valantine." So he says, after our hug, "We're ready any time you are Mrs. Valantine". I already felt a bit overwhelmed. Then I realized there were four unfamiliar faces standing there. The ones I'd also.....noticed.....while flickin my bean at Joe and Brandon out in the yard. I hadn't even been introduced to them. "Well I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I don't think I've met your friends." I said, barely succeeding in keeping my voice natural and stable at the time. So, standing almost side by side behind Joe was Jason, David, Josh and John. Joe and Brandon introduced me to each of them. Jason was a redhead who stood about 6' tall. He has a more youthful looking face than the rest of them, but some stubble jutted out of his chin quite masculinely that day. He has a leaner frame. David is a bit shorter than the rest, at about 5'10", with black hair. I noticed he was stacked THICK. His frame is like a refrigerator or something. Very broad shouldered, not at all fat, but uh, "dense" all the same. He had a short and well trimmed beard and sunglasses on. Then there was Josh, who was a baffling 6'5" tall. He had on a white wifebeater and blue jeans. He had brown hair, and his frame wasn't skinny, but he isn't super thick either. Almost like a swimmer. Then there's John. He's a six foot tall blonde who's also thick like Dave. Well, not quite so much, but a similar kind of frame. They were all athletes, and they all looked like it. I saw some very nice shapes in that moment. Some of them, well, they were the kind of shapes that bulge. After the introduction and some small talk I won't bore you with, I led them down stairs into my basement. I swear I could feel them looking at my ass bounce while I walked. I got a little more turned on than I already kind of was. I directed them to a pile of totes while we casually talked. They began to move what was honestly a lot of storage containers for all kinds of things over to the other side of the basement. It was something that needed to be done, but they had no idea they were also kind of doing this for my amusement. I felt a little bit guilty, but also realized this was an opportunity for me to make my creme de la creme play. Telling them that this was my home and I'd feel terrible if I didn't carry something, Joe insisted I just stand back. Not to be told not to help, I in an unusually chipper voice told him I was going to anyway. That's when I approached a large ceramic lamp sitting off to the side. I made sure to take a serious posture to pick it up, squatted, and just before I picked it up I popped my ass out just enough to look natural, and enough for those boys to notice that I do squats regularly. Then I gripped it, slowly picked it up and even rose to the tips of my toes. I quickly came down on my heels from my toes and felt my ass bounce. I knew they all saw THAT. All the same, I carried it over to the other side, feeling my ass give a little jiggle with each step, and put it down with a little grunt. They thought I had no idea that I had given them a nice little show. After that Joe asked me to take it easy and just enjoy some convo. I gratefully agreed and told them I was gonna run to the bathroom real quick. I went upstairs, almost closed the door, leaving a little crack, made some footsteps across the floor and walked in place for a moment in front of my bathroom. The truth is it must have looked funny. Then I crept back over to the basement door and listened. I faintly heard Brandon say, in a low voice: "I know she doesn't know what just happened, but if I could I'd SPANK that ass" There was stifled laughter. Then Joe goes, just as quiet: "Yeah she's a good woman but she's kind of aloof. All the same kid that goes without saying." Then the voices trailed off. Suddenly someone went "HOW old did you say she was?" I smiled. Then I couldn't make much more out. I went back down stairs after a few more moments trying to listen, nothing else really coming through. When I got down stairs we carried on as normal, but I could see some of their faces were a little red. Then Josh pointed out my mother's old sewing machine. He asked if it still worked. To be honest I don't know much about those things, but I saw another opportunity. So I go "while that thing is something like 100 years old, they say that if you keep it well lubricated and taken care of, it should last a long time." And I could tell how it hit their ears, then I pivoted. "Can you imagine life in the 1920s? Even how people viewed their outfits and clothes? What medicine was like?" And that led into a bit more conversation. All the same after they were done I served them all some tea, talked for about another half hour, and saw them on their way out. They had gotten most of the storage moved but there was a bit more that could be done. All the same... By the time they left, I was soaked. It was time for payoff. I won the game. I stripped down, got into my toybox, strapped in and had the MOST fun. I saw Brandon, Catherine and Tony the next morning at church. I was sure to tell Catherine just how helpful they were and thanked Bran again. Brandon had told her there was still a lot that could be done at my place, which was true enough. They let me know later if I needed Brandon and his friends or maybe even Joe on Saturdays for a while, well, they could look into doing workouts at my place. Joe knew I used to teach some fitness classes out of my home and that I still had a large workout space with a home gym. So we agreed and later Joe confirmed the following Saturday they'd come do some more work for me after a workout in my home. So there was another chance for dress thrills, after all, why wouldn't I joint them? I won't go nearly so into detail for this day, but when they had finished what was left with the storage, which is all I had them do that day, we got our workout started. I remember I told them I was going to change first. I had been wearing a tame blouse and some slacks, but when I came back down I was wearing a short black pair of spandex gym shorts that stopped juuuust under my cheeks. Then I put on a sports bra that shows just enough cleave, and my black ASICS. As i walked in the room i took off my plumb bracelet, i had been wearing it again, and i set it to the side. When we got started we formed a couple rows and I stood in the front. Behind me was Josh, John and Dave, Joe to my right, myself in the middle, and Jason to my left. Needless to say once we started moving the back row got the first whole part of the show. But we did things where they basically all got to see. I even got to lead the workout for a while. I jumped, I pushed, I lunged, I squatted and I thrusted. I could feel them all tense up a bit from time to time when I looked at them, and I could feel them all look at me when I wasn't looking. I served home made cookies and lemonade when we were done. While we were talking and snacking i invited them over the next weekend to swim instead. We could get more done and all but it was just my way of showing gratitude. They agreed, and just before they left I said in an ever so naturally aloof way: "I had such a good time boys, thanks for giving me such a good workout!" With a smile as honest as pie on my face. About 30 minutes after they left I ended up spending some really good quality time with my wallbanger. Then we have yet another opportunity, yet a third round of dress thrills. They came back the next Saturday to swim. I wanted to take things to just the next level of risk. To kick it up a notch. My last two outfits might have been risque, a bit on the line, but still though, they made sense. Or at least didn't raise too many questions, even if my outfits had answered alot of questions without speaking a word about them. Now we were about to swim. If there's ever an excuse to be basically naked, it's while you're swimming, right? Right. Okay, so I wore a multi-cam bottom that had a natural shrink up and around my ass, stopping mid cheek. My top was multi-cam too, but basically was just a strip of cloth that barely covered muh tatas. It was so small in fact they almost might as well have been out. My nips and airies mighta been covered, but not much else was. I was a little afraid they'd pop completely out that day, but I was careful and thankfully they didn't. I also had my bracelet on. When they rang the doorbell this time, I wasn't as nervous as I had been the previous two times. I know I didn't say much about it, but it was a whole process. I felt relaxed and even comfortable in my body at that moment though. I will give more detail later, but in those moments of small talk I already had created a bond with them. They were all good, smart, and hard working.....and hot. Especially Joe and Brandon. They made me feel safe too. So, instead of answering the door in a pair of trunks and a tank top with my bikini underneath like I planned, I just answered the door in my bikini. I opened the door. They were all in their trunks with either white Tees or tanks. "Hello boys!" I said with the mildest amount of seduction in my voice. I immediately hoped they didn't notice. Then again I kinda hoped they did. As they all came in, Dave being the last and closing the door behind him, I go "water's fine out back" and began walking straight to the back sliding glass door to the pool. I was like the pied piper. They didn't say anything, I could just feel the concentration as they followed me out the door. It didn't take long to break the silence though. I just picked up a pitcher of tea and offered glasses, and we got to talking naturally and it was quickly almost like they forgot I was basically naked. Almost, but not quite. Because they couldn't and I knew it. It was actually a little bit chilly out to swim that day, but for some reason, nobody seemed to mind. I pretended I didn't notice my nipples hardening slightly through my top. I had set up a volleyball net and I watched them play. They all were showing off for me. Watching them all strike the ball as their muscles rippled, young and strong. Hearing them talk about sports, hearing them laugh, I soaked it all in and enjoyed it. And I swam with them, and splashed and got splashed, and played as you'd expect in the pool with a group of friends. In the meantime I was able to speak just fluidly enough and play just dumb enough to convince them I had no idea there was anything, uh, "wrong" me with having so few clothes on. In truth nobody brought it up, even though clearly everybody but me obviously noticed. At a point in time Jason really quickly lunged toward me in the water and I jumped back a bit. I saw Brandon in my peripheral as I started to move back, and let my left hand barely "slip" onto his groin. I laughed with Jason really hard because that really was a jump scare for me, and Bran thought I hadn't noticed at all what happened. I noticed though. It was impossible not to. Now there was no question: Brandon had a magical creature in his pants. The Leviathan...a magic meat dragon. After a while I went inside to grab a drink, and as I backed up from my fridge I legitimately hadn't noticed Joe behind me, waiting so he could also get a drink. So I opened the door and stepped back fairly quickly, just out of habit, when I felt my ass just absolutely CRASH into Joe. And I'm not talking about like "oh its so hot you ran into Joe" no. I mean I felt his hip bones crash into my back bone right before my bumper ass simultaneously knocked his big ass all the way down and I myself lost balance and also fell backwards. And I hit the ground hard too, like WHAM. But to be honest I was mostly just shocked and had the wind knocked out of me. I wasn't in much pain. I looked over at Joe, who was a little out of breath too. We were both fine, but the look on his face was crazy. According to him mine too, and I'm positive he's right. After a second or two of eye contact on the floor, he goes "I ever tell you I love your plumb?", referring to my bracelet. We both began to laugh and laugh and laugh. It wasn't the words themselves, it was how he said it. He sounded only a little flirtatious, but more so reassuring. It was a good little moment. I made us each a Bloody Mary and we went back outside and had a good time. I could have sucked his dick while I was making his drink though, I remember thinking that distinctly. And so after yet another night of fun and play I sent them all off. Then I had another euphoric jack off session to them. I won again. Another good night in my toybox. I got to talking to Catherine and she asked me if there was anything else that could be done, and I said while there was plenty, unless she'd have him do some property work for me then honestly there wasn't much I could think of. She knew exactly what I was talking about. My husband and I owned a country house with some acreage a few hours south of town. She also knew of the work I was talking about too. I had mentioned it once before in the past. There was a lot of brush and some fallen trees that needed to be cleared, some maintenance on a shed and some other minor things. Bran said he didn't see why he and his friends couldn't. His mother said she had no idea if his father would let him out of town that weekend. But low and behold I got a text from Cathy, her husband encouraged it. "That kind of work will be good for him." Joe had experience doing that kind of work, he'd be able to oversee them besides. We were in early April at this point, and it looked like I had an entire weekend of my little game booked with the boys, who were all coming. They were Bran's best friends. I was SO excited. Too excited. Quietly excited. But all the same I felt something turn in my mind, some kind of feeling things were about to change. I also felt an intuition to just lean into what I was doing anyway. I felt myself, yet again, dismiss my own apprehension. I didn't think much more about it. Suddenly in one week I would be embarking on an adventure. At the time I thought of it as an adventure with new friends, and a personal adventure of private (if not outwardly inappropriate) gratification in liu of my derelict husband. What I didn't realize is that this would turn into the adventure of my lifetime. One week. Not even, not really. But basically. One week.

USA- Reluctantly had jaw surgery June 2022 to correct a very very minor overbite that my family was certain would cause me to lose my teeth in old age. Initially didn't want to correct the alignment which seemed pretty cosmetic, but my doctors and then my family talked me into it even though 1 in 10 patients get permanent numbness- they said it would be much lower for someone as young and healthy as me. (Edit: To clarify, my they talked me into getting surgery to correct the bite, and then they talked me in to getting surgery to fix alignment at the same time. For the record, I had also just turned 18 when I agreed to this. If I were older, I doubt I would've gone through with any of it).
Massive massive regret.
2 years later - I still have a tight numbness throughout my lower lip and chin - it's like I'm wearing an invisible chinstrap. The area is also always sore/sensitive and additionally I have occasional painful, short-lasting aches in my lower jaw and sometimes around my ears (maybe once a week or so?) that cause me to be totally brought down for a minute or two.
The surgery has made most mouth-based activities awkward, borderline uncomfortable, and less efficient: talking, smiling, eating foods that get stuck in your teeth, acting, etc. The worst thing is how much worse kissing is. You only feel half of a kiss. Being with my girlfriend, it's sometimes not even enjoyable.
There are days where the numbness is all-consuming and it sends me spiraling into depression. Most days, are okay and it stays being the background noise, but being honest the surgery and numbness have probably wounded my confidence and self-image more than I'd admit. Someone once compared lower jaw numbness to getting bad tattoo- a bit of a bummer if you dwell on it, but something you shouldn't have to think about often. You can get rid of a tattoo though. Recently, the permanence of the numbness is starting to set in - that I'll never be able to have that part of me back, that an integral part of myself is lost forever, and it's all my fault for giving in to family/doctor pressure. 🫤
Is there any hope that numbness might come back over time? Any treatments or specialists worth looking into? Any hope at all?
Note: For those seeing this who have yet to have surgery and are feeling anxious, just want to emphasize firstly, that my needs where fairly minor — some folks really really need jaw surgery even if it brings long-lasting numbness. Secondly, that the sort of post-op symptoms I have are far from a sure thing and everyone else I know who has had jaw surgery regained sensation after a few months.

Something is wrong, and there’s no second guessing it. Sure, since the Vanishing weird stuff has happened that didn’t always mean immediate danger, but watching the sky go dark a second time is an omen so bad my stomach is doing somersaults. My eyes dart around the vehicle, my first thought being, ‘Oh God, is anyone going to vanish?’ but when nothing happens, I ease up. Instead, everyone goes silent. Dead silent. Nobody knows how to react. In the front, I see Eight and Thirteen looking at one another, trying frantically to decide whether it’s a better idea to gun it away from whatever is about to happen, or to stay quiet and hide from it. We remain like that for a long moment before somebody dares speak.
“There’s something over there; through the trees.” Morgan points out with a small quiver, “Wes, i-is that one of those things that attacked us when we first met?”
Instantly, my heart sets to a heavy beat as I scan the windows for what he’s talking about. Images of slithers flood my mind, along with the gruesome scene that accompanied them that terrible day. When I finally catch the thing sticking out, however, I realize that they aren’t the beasts he’s talking about. There’s a light through the trees, bright and florescent, popping out like a sore thumb in the fresh darkness. A banshee. The haunting, floating corpses. Arguably worse than a slither, and certainly more dangerous to our current situation. While my eyes are zeroed in on the light, however, I realize that what I’m looking at can’t be a banshee…
“No,” I softly mutter, “I don’t think so. It’s not moving.”
The light is still and consistent, like it’s fixed to a solid point. I hear Val begin to shuffle her belongings next to me and realize that I should do the same. Together, we pull on our helmets and flick them on. Instantly, the sound map around us unfolds, mostly calm save for the rain against the truck and the rustle of the leaves in the flora above. No noise coming from where the light is.
“Captain, what’s the plan?” Val asks over the coms. We had locked channels with the two guards before setting out just in case of a situation exactly such as this, and while they were wearing the more high tech, powerful suits from the P.A.P facility, they were still able to connect to our regular military helms. Val and I would have taken suits ourselves, but unfortunately, the two were the only ones were able to get away with. The people back at the facility had a lot more to look after, and especially if the city never came for them, they would eventually need the armor to help journey out and find resources.
On the flip side, we figured that if the city was really going to come and help, the suits would be a good payment incentive for them to do so. How could they resist more advanced tech that could help them hold out just a little bit longer? Val and I had always gotten along fine with what we had, and so we made the call to only take two from the group in case our journey went awry. Unfortunately, the helmet parts of the suit were affixed to the body, which meant even if we just wanted that part, we couldn’t take it with us.
“Hang tight…” Eight responds to Val, “We’re going to inch forward. Stay frosty. If any of you spot anything, you signal immediately, and we gas it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
With a gentle lurch, the truck begins to roll forward once more, crawling silently over the asphalt. With the light being my only point of reference, I keep my eyes on it and rely on the sound map for everything else around us. When we round the slight bend in the road, I finally get a read on what it is. It’s a streetlight. A tall pillar on the side of the road casting its beam down like a spotlight. Beyond it, I can see another, and another, fancy in design and almost flawless in cleanliness, a stark contrast to how most structures look now after so many years of no maintenance. A gentle rain trickles in the beams, reminding me of home, but other than that, nothing seems to be there.
“What the hell?” Thirteen mutters.
“Were there any established compounds out this way?” Val asks.
“No,” the guard replies, “There are no records of anything out this way since the beginning, as far as I know.”
“Then how is the power still on?”
“Maybe they’re on solar panels.” Eight offers, “The sun coming back out might have charged them up bit.”
“That’d make sense,” I agree, “Or maybe the dam from Seattle also powers the grid out here? They aren’t too far from each other.”
“Whatever it is, stay alert. There’s always the chance that people found a way to set up out here away from the government, and if they did, there’s also a good chance they aren’t friendly. This road could be trapped.”
The thought of other survivors in the apocalypse outside of compounds used to be unthinkable, but after everything that happened with Mason and his cult, the idea of facing another was not only very possible—it was dreadful.
Eight continues crawling along the road, all of our heads on swivels, even those without a night vision helmet. She picks up the car's pace a little more after a bit, feeling a little more comfortable since nothing has shown itself for several minutes now. We slow again, however, once we round the next bend and witness the scene waiting for us.
We’re at the top of a small mountain, looking down toward a valley. It’s densely forested, the dark firs creating a choppy ocean of mystery as to what lies below. Several lights speckling clearings are the only thing offering a slight hint. Buildings, some towering, some barely peeking above the trees, rest across the landscape, glowing like stars in a void.
Though the sight of civilization should be a good thing, the scene immediately gives me a hollow feeling in my stomach. There shouldn’t be civilization out here. There should be nothing. Eight’s solar panel explanation falls apart fast now that we can see what equates to a small town lit on the horizon. In the distance, directly opposite to us, the night vision on our helmets can barely make out the goliath, imposing silhouette of Mount Rainer towering over all of it. What would have been a gorgeous view at one point now only brings dread in the dark. The form of something so large just looming on the horizon feels almost menacing, as if it’s a sleeping beast that we might wake up with our presence.
A massive, ornate gate lies ahead of us with toll booths below, their striped blockers raised into the air. The lights inside the small cabins are on along with everything else, but there’s nobody inside. The only trace of human life is a crimson splatter across one of the far booth windows. I try to zoom in on it with my visor, but with how it’s lit against the transparent window, it’s hard to say how old it is. In regal letters, on the mountain shaped sign above, it reads, Welcome to Mt. Rainer National Park & Resort.
“Are we going through?” I ask after a few moments of no movement.
“I’m thinking…” Eight returns, “The road we need hugs the outside of the park. We wouldn’t have to go too deep in. Creatures also tend to stay away from light…”
“To be fair,” thirteen interjects, “That was back in a place where light meant ‘soldiers’ to them. I’m not too sure there’s any military around here.”
Eight leans her helm against the wheel, “I’m not sure we have a choice. We don’t have enough fuel to change the plans now. It’s either through, or we break down trying to get back to the main road.”
“It’s your call, Captain.” Thirteen tells her.
Eight takes a deep, almost frustrated sigh at the response, then puts on the gas, “If I get us all killed, you can tell me I told you so later.” She huffs at him.
We roll through the gate and start running down the road; fast, but still slow enough to retain some semblance of stealth. As we move through, off in the tree line, giant, wooden statues of bears line the road, probably once a spectacle for tourists, but now only serve as ominous watchers. We twist down the hillside till we hit the bottom of the valley where a large visitor center sits dead center at an intersection. I can see a few lights within the building, but they appear to be motion sensor bulbs that are only on when no one is there. The structure looks like it was closed when the Vanishing hit, and it’s been closed ever since. There’s a couple of cars still in the lot, but otherwise, it’s empty. At least, I think it is. I swear on the far side of the structure I see something rear its head around the side of the building. Eight doesn’t slow the truck as she whips the corner onto the road we need, however, and it’s left in the dust before I can even see what it was.
We wind on through the park, and as we do, I can’t help but admire the buildings we pass. My family and I had only been up to Rainer once when I was really young. On top of gas and the fee to get in, the trip was never really worth it, especially since Oregon had plenty of mountains to boast as its own. The resort was incredible though, and part of me wishes I had gotten to see it in its prime. The buildings we pass are all ornately crafted of polished wood and stone to maintain the earthen feel, but are still mixed with a bit of sleek modern siding and metals to give them a sturdy aura. There are several hotels we pass, all with lights on speckling the various rooms, but though I look closely into all the windows and lounges, I don’t see any signs of life. What I do find when I try to zoom in on a quickly passing lot ahead is rather disturbing.
A few car doors in the packed parking lot are opened as if their drivers either tried to flee them, or climb inside but never made it in time. I can see blood and viscera splayed about in a few places, but again, from so far and even with the zoom, I can’t quite make out how recent it all was. By the glisten of their innards in the streetlights above, I’d wager not long, but that might also have something to do with the steady rain. My eyes trace to the windows of the lobby where I find more of the same; a few bodies laid out, all dead and unmoving, but no signs of life otherwise. My throat grows tighter, and my stomach sinks deeper. None of these buildings look touched since the beginning of everything, yet my gut is telling me that it all just feels too… freshly active? Like we’re only just skating through after a recent tragedy.
What happened here?
“We’re halfway around the park, everyone,” Eight calls back to everyone, “Just hang tight, we’ll be out soon.”
“How are we on fuel?” asks Val privately over coms.
“I think we’ll make it.” Thirteen says, glancing over Eights arm at the dashboard, “Got about a quarter tank left and an hour drive to Seattle. It’ll be close, but I think we’ll make it.”
Then we hit the fog.
Like a dense curtain slapping against the windows, the area around us goes ghost white, something I can only tell thanks to the visor. The sound map still works to translate the space around us, but with the roar of the car's engine, it makes the scene choppy and inaccurate.
“Shit!” Eight gasps, reeling the speed down slightly but not stopping.
“What’s going on?”
“Eight, can you even see where you're going?”
“Everyone quiet! I need to focus.” She calls, “I can see between the sound map and GPS, but it might get a little choppy.”
I forgot that her suit has much better tech than mine, but considering we’re driving along steep drops and dense tree lines in rainy weather, I’m not the most comfortable right now.
“Everyone, strap in.” Thirteen demands over his shoulder. The truck obeys, and we all slip our arms into the straps on the wall. I can tell that the guards are more than a little worried about foggy weather. They’re panicked for the same reason I am. They know what kind of things are out lurking in the darkness. They know what they can do. This isn’t random abrupt fog. Something brought this.
Crack—pop.
Even through the armored vehicle, now hard pelting rain, and roaring wheels, my sound map picks it up. Branches in the tree line snapping. And if that sound was loud enough to be heard through all the noise, they had to be big branches.
Eight slams the gas hard, causing a startled gasp to rise to everyone’s lips. Somewhere past the wall behind me and to the left, more branches snap and shatter as something pursues that truck. The whole vehicle clearly hears it now, and I can see frightened looks painting their faces. Eight continues to crank the wheel as we weave the winding road, but the conditions are too much, and she’s quickly dropping in precision. I can feel the front passenger wheel scuff the side of the asphalt as the tire slips off it and into plain dirt, but Eight cranks it sideways just in time to course correct before we hit a tree or ledge guard.
The fog is getting denser now, and terrifyingly, the branches have stopped snapping. Whatever is following is out of the woods and straight behind us. The creature makes no noise, however, an incredible feat for something that would have to be fast enough to tail a speeding vehicle and big enough to plow through trees like they were nothing more than twigs. I rack my index of monsters for anything that I can think of that could do something like this, but it all comes back void. We’re in a new area; there could be an infinite number of creatures that Val and I have never even heard of.
My heart pounds in my chest, and I look out the back window as the truck growls with each shift and turn. All that lies beyond is a dense white shroud that hides anything from view. Still, I know it’s out there. I can sense it. Like being chased in a nightmare, I know something is still close behind, eager to finally catch its prize. I’m seconds away from running for a gun at the back, kicking the hatch open, and firing blindly into the mist, but I never get the chance. The creature, finally makes a noise. At least, I think it does.
Bells begin to chime. Haunting, thunderous bells that rattle my ribcage and make my hair stand on end. They sound distant, yet each ring has a force as if I’m standing right next to it. They encompass everything, filling every inch of air with their melody. I whip my head forward to see if Eight is still focused amidst the chaos just in time see the screen of the GPS that’s helping guide our way flicker out and go dark. Immediately after, my helmet does the same.
Then so does the truck.
“Shit!” Eight screams as the car rolls to a stop, “Guns! Now!” She orders to no one in particular.
Morgan, who is the closest, slips from his straps and reaches over to the rifles, immediately passing one to Tom, who passes it straight to Paul. Another pass from Morgan later, he’s armed as well, and then my dad, just in time for the car to roll to a halt. I draw my pistol from my holster, and Val does the same with the one she has now, and then, all goes silent as we hold our weapons at the ready.
Everything is still. The rain patters against the roof and the engine clicks as it winds down, but nothing living moves save for the rise and fall of our panting chests. I hear Claire breathing hard next to me, and across the way, I see Lyle clutching Kaphila like she’s the only thing keeping the monster away. If my heart wasn’t so filled with dread, it might have room to break at the sight. If this is it for us, if whatever this thing is is about to kill us, then it was on me. I convinced everyone to come out here. I told them this risk was better than staying at the compound. This was all my—
‘Focus.’
I swallow and lift my pistol slightly, unsure of where the creature might come from. In the front, Eight repeatedly smashes the start button to the car, muttering under her breath as she does and praying that it might start. It never does, however. Instead, a small, metallic screech fills the air.
Scrrrrrrritch!
My head darts toward the back of the car where the noise comes from, and I’m confused by what I see. At first, I don’t notice anything, just the fog outside the windows. But then, my brain begins to see it. A thin line forming in the ceiling and floor that runs the length of the truck toward the back where it meets in the middle at the trunk. It continues forward toward the front of the car, and when it draws closer to where I’m sitting I finally put together what’s happening. A piece of wire, no bigger than a piano string, is puncturing the vehicle, running from floor to ceiling and slicing through the metal and glass as if it was nothing more than a loaf of bread. I pull my feet in as close as I can to the bench, then check the path to make sure it’s not going to intercept anyone’s body.
“Stay to your sides of the car!” I frantically spit out, “It’s cutting the truck in—”
With a loud, harsh creak, I watch Dr. Kaphila and everyone on her bench fall away from me and into the fog. Our side does the same in the opposite direction, as the half a car tilts and thumps hard against the asphalt. I hear cries of shock yelp out around me as the collective wind is knocked out of us, but there’s no time to recuperate. I turn my head to quickly check my bench but find that the fog is so dense that I can barely make out Valentine sitting few inches away.
Hastily, I slip from my straps and start to sit up just in time to hear a new sound. An elk call. The shrill, chilling bugle of a horned animal wailing into the dark. My blood goes icy and my hands begin to shake. I raise my pistol in the direction the sound is emanating and place a finger on the trigger. It’s high above me, still off behind the now severed truck. With the fog and no sound map, I might as well be blindfolded, however. Still, I hold it there and wait. I almost squeeze the trigger, but restrain myself. Whatever is in the fog is undoubtedly hostile, but shooting when it hasn’t made a move yet might just piss it off more. My brain runs frantic, trying to solve how to get out of the car-bowl we find ourselves in and stave this thing off so that everyone can escape. We’re at its mercy though, and what’s worse is I can’t see where my friends are even if I did escape. How could I fight something I couldn’t see, reunite the two halves of the group, and get away on top of all that?
Chook chook chook chook!
A volley of suppressed shots rattles off from someone’s rifle in the fog, and soon after another follows. The beast howls its elk-like call again, and I grit my teeth as I hear the harsh sound of the other half of the truck take a heavy blow. Screams ring out from all the voices on that side; Myra, Paul, Tom, Arti and Lyle, and I begin to hyperventilate. I ready my pistol to shoot, but quickly reconsider. It’s hopeless. Shooting will only make it attack us too, and I most likely won’t even hit whatever it is. Our best option right now is simply to run. Get the hell out of this car, get over to the other half and pray that I can save the others before it’s too late. I hope that it hasn’t already come to that…
I slam my pistol back into its holster like my life depends on it, then reach over to where Claire was, “Give me your hand!” I tell her, gripping part of her shirt. I feel her hand grab my arm then pat its way over to my own. As she does that, I do the same thing with Val, who’s already gripped the shoulder of my jacket.
“Thirteen!” Eight screams out, “Get your side out of here! Find a safe spot and stay put! We’ll find you!”
Another round of shots fires out as I hear Val over the commotion on my left, “Mr. Neyome! Where are you?”
My heart skips a beat. What does she mean by that? How can she not find my dad? He was right next to her. She tries again, but when there’s still no response, she yells, “Morgan?”
“I’m here!” The boy yells back. My body is tugged slightly as Val gropes around for him in the fog, and I hear the shuffling as the boy seemingly finds her and draws closer.
Where is Dad? He was right between the two, and there’s nowhere else to go within the six-foot box that we’re trapped in. Did he climb out?
‘There’s no time to wait… we need to get everyone out of here.’
I don’t want to accept it, but I know it’s true. Dad was a soldier and a guard since the Vanishing. He can handle himself if he was separated from us. At least, I hope that’s all that has happened.
I give Claireese’s hand a squeeze, “Head for the front!” I tell her.
She doesn’t resist, and I feel our chain of limbs go taut as she feels her way along the floor-turned-wall. Around us, I hear the frantic yelling and calls back and forth from the other half of the truck and more shots, but there are no more calls from the beast.
“Thirteen, are you there?” Claire asks as she finds the opening to the front.
I hear a grunt from within, then the guard's voice, “Yeah, I’m outside! Quick, follow my voice and I’ll help you over!”
We all cram into the space next to the ceiling of the truck, then Claireese lets go, as she vaults the edge of the vehicle. We all frantically do the same one after the next, linking up on the other side once again before I hear thirteen yell, “Alright move!”
We start to take off in a random direction away from the truck, and that's when the creature lets out another one of its sirens. Shots from Eight’s group fill the mist again, but whoever’s gun it is, it begins to click rapidly as it runs out of ammo. The chain in front of me goes suddenly limp as I hear Thirteen crash into a tree, then try to continue running. The jostle yanks Val, Morgan and I forward a bit, but we eventually find our rhythm once again. I’m unsure how many mistakes like that we can afford, though.
The cold winter mist scrapes my hot face as we sprint through the woods with reckless abandon, yanking each other along and tripping with almost every step. Still, I hold on for dear life, the thought of losing anyone to the fog being a greater loss than losing a little bit of speed. I can only imagine how Thirteen feels heading the charge; each step a complete gamble. With how many cliff sides and hills are around us, I’m almost certain that we’re bound to go careening into a chasm; it’s just a matter of when. The harsh sound of branches violently shattering behind us in pursuit propels me onward, however, that fate a preferable one to whatever is behind us. The good news is that if the beast is on our tails, it’s left the other half of the caravan alone, and I hope that they’ll have time to recuperate and escape now. The sounds of them being attacked hang in my mind as more motivation to keep moving forward, and I stave off the urge to think about who it might have gotten.
‘It must not have gotten anyone. We never had a vision.’
That’s right. My chest feels relief as I realize, if anyone had died back there, I would have been the first to know. My strange death sense would have made me replay the moment twice, and that never happened. Or had it? Did I just not notice? It seems strange that a creature would hack our car in half but then not do anything once it caught us. Maybe some of the bullets found their mark and stunned it.
‘Or maybe it’s not the kind of beast that kills…’
My heart feels a stab of pain again at the thought, but I don’t have time to dwell on it as that ‘when’ from a few minutes ago finally catches up with us. Claireese’s hand strains tightly against mine before violently yanking me forward, harder than any of her precious stumbles, and I hear Thirteen yelp in surprise. I only have a microsecond to guess why before the ground is pulled away from under me, and I begin tumbling down a hillside, my fingers wrenching from Val’s in the process.
I don’t have time to find out if she and Morgan start down behind us; I’m too busy barreling down the steep incline much faster than I’d like to. My hand still holding to Claire's is quickly rattled free, and I lose her somewhere in the commotion. The world spins, but with my vision obscured by fog, I have no way of knowing which way is up or down until my body repeatedly finds out the hard way. The ground beneath me is muddy and matted with ferns, taking some of the pain away, but a fall is a fall, and by the time I come to a stop at the bottom, my whole body is on fire with aches and sores. I roll over onto my back just in time for my helmet to flicker back to life and see the outline of the surrounding woods. The fog is lesser here; we must have gotten some distance from the beast in our fall.
I instantly launch up and scan the area, looking for my friends. The forest is still too obscured to see far, but at least my sound map is working. I don’t see anyone on it, however.
“Thirteen? Are you there?”
“Wes?” I hear his muffled voice groan over the coms, “Where are you? Ping yourself.”
Through the fog and past a couple trees, I suddenly see a rippling outline of a helmet appear reading Thirteens suit number. I start toward him while trying to figure out the right mental current to carry out the action myself. I get it eventually and see the guards visor turn toward me.
“Is Claireese there?”
“No, I thought she fell with you?”
“Shit…” I mutter, looking back the way I came and I moving toward it. “Val, can you hear me? Are you there?”
Her microphone is crackly and spotty as she responds, “Y-Yeah, I am. I see you guys down the hill. I caught a tree on the way and Claireese did too. I have her, but it looks like she hit her head pretty hard…”
“Ping your location and get down here, we need to move ASAP.” Thirteen tells her.
“What about Morgan, did you see where he fell?” I ask.
Her tone grows slightly worried, “I… I don’t know if he did, Wes. H-His hand let go of mine before I went over; or maybe it just got yanked out—I don’t know.”
“Shit,” I hiss once more. “Morgan? Are you there?” I gently call out into the fog.
No response.
“Morgan? Say something if you can hear me. Or make a sound—Anything.”
Still nothing.
Val finally slides down the remaining part of the hill a few feet away holding Claireese against her shoulder. I put my search on hold and cross over to the girls, taking a closer look at Claire. The girl looks fine mostly, no broken limbs at least. Val was right though, there’s a sizable gash on her forehead right below her hairline. It runs blood down past her eye and cheek to drip slowly from her chin.
She sees me inspecting and stands up straight away from Val, “I’m fine, Wes, seriously. I told Val, I’m just a little dizzy.”
“A little dizzy could become a lot worse if you’re on your feet too long,” Thirteen notes, “We need to find somewhere to lie low and wait for the others.” The guard turns and calls out for Morgan one more time, but when there’s once again no response, he curses under his breath.
Val releases her supporting arm on Claire and turns back toward the slope, “I-I might be able to find him; give me just one minute.” She goes to move, but Thirteen lunges out to stop her, “Val, I know that you and Wes like to play hero, but right now, we are out in the open, and we just made a lot of noise up on that hill. We need to move; I’m sure he got away on his own.”
“Thirteen, it was right behind us though—I-I promised his brother I’d keep him safe.”
“He’ll be fine, Val. Everyone will. Right now though, we need to get Claireese some help, and find a spot to lie low for minute. Gather our bearings. I’ll send a message to Eight so she’ll know where we are once we get a connection again. If Morgan got away, he’s smart enough to know to either run or hide. If he ran, he’ll know to go somewhere we’ll find him, and if he hid, we can come search for him once that… thing is out of the area. Okay?”
I know Val well enough to know that it’s not okay, but she doesn’t argue. “Let’s go.” She plainly says.
Using the GPS on the helmets, the four of us start to jog back toward the resort, figuring that everyone will most likely do the same if they made it out. We have to slow down a bit a couple times when Claireese begins to stumble more frequently, but she insists that we don’t stop on her account, even if the fog is now far behind us. We reach the tree line in about ten minutes of walking, and luckily, don’t run into anything else along the way. That doesn’t do anything to lower my guard, as I move with my pistol drawn, however.
Across the field we find laid out before us, the lights of a massive hotel glint off a blue swimming pool behind it. It’s as good a place as any to hunker down, especially since it’s the most visible building around. We start across the field, hanging low as we do, our heads on a swivel. Claireese just hangs in the middle of the triangle that Val, Thirteen and I make with our body, her lack of night vision probably making all of this a very rough experience. I glance to the mountain that looms over us once more, its massive form staring angrily at us as if all of this is punishment for disturbing its sleep. That’s when something strange happens.
A red star appears in the sky.
It floats high above the mountain, just slightly off center, lighting the side of its peak with an eerie red glow.
“What the… Do you guys see that?” I ask, causing the group to turn and look. We slow down as we try to process it. My visor automatically zooms in at my curiosity, and that’s when I realize that it’s not a star at all. It’s a flare. A thin trail of smoke is illuminated behind it, roping high and already fading away in the wind.
“So there are others here…” Val says.
“Whoever they are, they aren’t our own. Not if they’re all the way over there. C’mon. Let’s get inside.”
We stand there staring for a moment longer before wordlessly continuing toward the hotel. The flare is most likely a distress signal, but right now, we’re in enough distress of our own.
The automatic doors to the palace slide open as we rush into the lobby, and Claireese gasps as she sees the sight laid out before her. I forget that she isn’t as desensitized to seeing horrific sights as we are. Several people lay dead and half eaten across the lobby, most of them wearing sleep ware as if they were rushing to leave in the dead of night. A few windows are smashed in, clearly the entry point for whatever caused the carnage. Claireese stares in horror and draws her hand to her mouth, presumably trying not to puke. I do the same when I see where her eyes have fallen. The body of a man next to a child, still holding hands. I step around her to block her view and wrap my arm into hers.
“Let’s go.” I tell her, drawing her further into the lobby.
I can’t help but look back at the carnage one last time, still never quite used to the gore and violence, no matter how many times I see it. There’s another reason, though. From so close now, it’s clear as day to see, these bodies are fresh. At least, fresher than two years old. Whenever these people died, it wasn’t the night of the Vanishing…
I’m suddenly all too eager to get out of the lobby. Not only do I not like imagining what might still be lurking, but I don’t like the light. It always makes me feel seen, like it’s a spotlight for everything else to come find us. Thirteen has already made his way around the desk and begun searching for room keys. The sign on the wall behind him reads in golden letters: Glacial Run Hotel. While he does that, Val quickly steps for the halls past the desk, glancing down them before moving toward a doorway that leads to a darkened restaurant and peering inside.
“Nothing immediately present.” She relays to Thirteen.
“Great. Let’s get upstairs, top floor, that way we can keep a lookout.”
Val nods, then the two start for a door labeled stairs before stopping once they see Claire and I not following. I point to the glowing elevator button that I just pushed.
“The thing still works, might as well use it.”
Nobody disagrees.
The room we find ourselves in is nice, and I mean, really nice. Practically an apartment built into the hotel. I don’t know if it was thirteens intention, but he certainly picked well. We don’t have much time to enjoy it as we hurriedly move Claire to the bed and have her sit down. Val goes to the bathroom and returns with some towels that she promptly presses to the girl's forehead.
“Ow! Damn, Romero, you don’t gotta be so rough with it! Gimme that, I can do it myself.”
“Sorry. How are you feeling?”
“Like I have one hell of a concussion.” Claireese groans.
“You probably do.” Val tells her. “Were the lights downstairs extra bright?”
“Yeah. I’m nauseous as hell, too.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely concussed.”
“Keep an eye on her, you two, and don’t let her go to sleep. If she got hit hard enough, she might not wake up. Get her some water as well. I need to go find a room facing the road so I can keep look out. See if anyone else made it out. I’ll try to contact the Captain too. Signal on the coms if there’s an emergency.”
I nod, and thirteen exits the room.
There’s a long, tension-filled silence between the three of us as we simply sit and catch our breaths. Nobody wants to acknowledge what just happened, especially not me. Like I said, I convinced everyone to come out here. What happened today falls on me. I imagine Eight feels pretty similar right now, wherever she is…
The silence goes on for nearly an hour, with Val and I silently tending to Claireese while she just sits on the bed, vacantly staring at the floor. I check in with thirteen a few times to see if there’s any word, but so far he’s got nothing. Val takes her helmet off at one point, and I do the same before cranking the volume in case I need to hear an update from he guard. I check Val over thoroughly, not having had the chance to do so since the accident. I can’t tell if she’s injured bodily, but the girl's expression is rough and full of pain. I almost forgot that just a few days ago, Val had to put her own mom down as if she were a feral dog, and now she’s having to deal with all of this. I can tell it’s Morgan that’s mainly bothering her. That promise she made to Tyler on his deathbed… Every part of me hopes he’s okay, but I really don’t know if anyone we left behind is. Not any of my neighbors, not the captain or Kaphila and Lyle
Dad…
Unable to do anything to chase all the pain away, I do the only thing that I know will make it all bearable. I take Val into my arms. She returns the hold as if she’d been waiting for it this whole time, and I hear her finally break with soft sniffles as she leans her head against my shoulder. As she vents her pain into me, Claireese sighs and leans over as well, resting against my back. And that’s how the three of us sit, waiting for anything to happen. Good news; bad news. Anything.
We wait for one hour, then two, and then three and four. After hour Eight, despite Thirteens orders, the girls lay back against the bed and fall into a rough sleep while I stay up in case he makes contact. I know I won’t get any real rest anyway; too many thoughts are running through my head. I pick up my helmet and move for a sliding door at the back of the room, then slip the shell on. Sliding open the glass, I step out onto the balcony, glancing down at the glistening swimming pool below. The thing should be filled with mold and algae, but it’s still perfectly clear and blue save for some floating debris and leaves. I draw away and turn my attention back toward the mountain. Toward the spot in the sky that the red star had been, now vacant and dark. Once again, the question draws to mind; what happened here? What is happening here?
I stand in the returned night, listening to the rain patter the roof top above me, and watching as the drops gradually morph into tiny, watery flecks of snow. I’m numb to the cold as I sit there in my trance, but I’m suddenly jarred from it when I hear thirteens voice in my ear.
“Wes? Val? You got a copy?”
I stand up straight, “Yeah, I’m here. Go ahead.”
“Someone is walking up to the hotel now, they just came out of the woods. It looks like Myra. I’m going down there to get her, she doesn’t know where we—”
“No, don’t worry about it.” I tell him, relief flooding my body, “I got it. You stay there in case anyone else is close behind and let me know.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I got it. I’m going crazy just sitting around over here.”
“Alright, be careful. Something might see her coming and be following close behind.”
“Roger that.” I tell him, before stepping back inside the building.
I look at Val and Claire on the bed and consider waking them for a moment, but decide instead to let them rest. It’s been a long day, and I know Val will try and come with me if I wake her up now. I’d rather her get the relief without all the work.
I waste no time with the elevator and instead charge down the stairs, wanting to catch Myra in case she passes by. I nearly trip down them with how fast I’m moving, and once I throw the door open, I charge into the lobby and look out through the window. Thirteen was right, Myra is shambling across the parking lot toward the front of the inn, however she definitely looks worse for wear. Her hair is frazzled and covered in leaves, and moves hunched over clutching her stomach. I immediately can see that she’s injured, a dark red stain plastering the entire front of her jacket and pants.
“Holy shit, Myra!” I call, rushing toward the door and calling out to her.
She immediately whips her head up to face me, but her expression is vacant and distant, like she almost doesn’t recognize me. “W-Wes? Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me, don’t worry, you’re safe now,” I reassure, drawing closer, “You look hurt, let me see—”
“Wes?” Myra interrupts, her expression unflinching. Something about it strikes a very wrong chord in my gut, and I suddenly slow down, coming to a halt about 20 feet away from her. The automatic door between us slides shut as we both stand motionless, staring at one another, but then she shambles forward another step and it opens once more.
“D-Do you have any food?” Myra asks again, her voice a weak, heartbreaking croak.
“Uh, Y-yeah, we can get you some food. Myra, what happened? Is anyone else with you? A-Are you okay, you look like you’re bleeding all over the place.”
“Only one with me…” Myra drones. She swallows hard before coughing a bit, a small bit of blood draining from her mouth.
“Myra, what’s going on?” I ask again, slower this time so she’ll understand, “Are… you okay?” The question leaves my mouth another time, but I already know the answer. She’s not okay, but something isn’t right, and I need to figure out what it is.
“Oh, I-I’m fine,” she stammers, swallowing another deep, audible gulp, “I’ll be fine once I get some food in me. I’m just hungry, Wes… I feel so hungry…”
Myra takes another step closer, and this time, she stands up a little straighter. My eyes draw to the wound on her stomach to see the damage, but my own gut violently churns at the sight there. I slap my hand to my pistol and yank it free, taking a few cautious steps back.
“Myra…” I say calmly. I don’t know why. It doesn’t help anything. It’s just all I can think of to say.
“I’m hungry, Wes…” The librarian tells me again, “It hurts… It hurts how hungry I am…”
Through the opening in Myra’s jacket, I can see her wound now, but it’s not just a wound. It’s worse than that. There’s a hole. Where her stomach should be, there’s nothing but a massive, gaping hole, bloody and sliced open with deadly accuracy. That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that her organs aren’t there. Instead, there’s something round and covered in prickly fuzz, it’s eight glistening black eyes staring hungrily back at me.
The thing piloting Myra takes another step forward.

Hello y’all so I 20m had my tonsillectomy on Friday 4/26 at around 1:30 pm (when I woke up from the procedure) and thought I’d share some positive stuff in terms of how my recovery was going. So far it’s been a breeze
First scare: anesthesia. I was so tweaked out about going under. But literally I lied down on the surgery bed and woke up in the recovery room. It is the closest thing you will ever get to time travel. And I was PANICKED. they give u a benzo that makes u not give a shit anyways which actually works😭 I’m a severe health anxiety freak btw.
Day 0 (surgery day): I woke up groggy from the surgery, got back to normal in like an hour. Went straight from there to McDonald’s and ate 3 Sundaes with minimal pain like a 2/10. A TINY bit of blood but I think that’s because I was fresh. I’m talking tiny specs. Took one dose of pain killers because I got to maybe a 4/10 pain level and just didn’t want to deal with it. Brought the pain back down to like a 1-2.
Day 1-2: the pain picked up a little maybe like a decent 6. I was prescribed hydrocodone 15 ml every 6 hours. For those days I took 10ml every 8 hours because it wasn’t that bad. Brought that 6 back down to like a 2 and probably even more if I took it more frequently and the higher dose. Just didn’t need. Uvula swelled up HELLA. this part was annoying. I was like constantly choking on it always and it was so annoying and gross to talk cough or swallow.
Day 3-4: pain stayed at a 2 out 10 both these days no pain killers were needed and I ate some soft tacos from Taco Bell and old McNuggets that got soft and grilled chicken. No issues. Was on a liquid only diet up until these days but said yolo I’ll eat some soft food along with the liquid diet. Uvula swelling gradually went down with very cold liquid. Got decently better on day 4. Went out shopping and did laundry these days. Also pleasured myself on day 4 very slowly and everything went well. No blood with all of that. BUT the night of day 4 I seen a blood clot on my upper right tonsil. I was so scared and called my doctors resident at 1 am. They didn’t answer and I fell asleep and woke up and it was gone. No blood.
Day 5: pain picked up a little to maybe about a 4.5/10. Took 10ml of hydrocodone every 12 hours this day, only did 2 doses because it was so minimal. Brought it back down to a 1.5-2/10. Uvula is pretty much baseline. Just a tiny bit swollen. Ate some fried chicken and Chinese food (rice, chicken & oyster sauce, egg roll). Along with drinking cold liquids. No issues. Also went and did some DoorDash driving and was fine. Day went pretty smooth.
Day 6: which started an hour ago (1 am by me) so far pain is like a 2.5-3/10. Gonna go to bed and see what happens but as of right now I don’t think I’m gonna take a painkiller. Will update accordingly, maybe in like a week or if something goes wrong which praying it doesn’t.
Notes to make you feel EVEN more secure if you’re scared: I’m not that healthy. Unspecified autoimmune and decently overweight, just borderline obese. I don’t have/use a humidifier. I don’t sleep with my head elevated. I haven’t used or been using ice packs or cubes to suck on or anything like that. So if you do EVERYTHING right and don’t just pick and choose like my dumbass, you will most likely be more okay then I am….and I’m an unhealthy idiot. If I got steroids off rip; I’d probably rate this whole recovery so far smooth since the uvula was the most annoying thing. Never seen blood except for operation day and the one clot that didn’t even bleed, ALSO never had any ear or jaw pain.
You got this! You’ll be okay! I believe in youuuuu!

"Given the understood properties of the bounded system, or Old Magic, it's critical to recognize when you should be utilizing these traditional methods as opposed to adhering to modern institutions." Venizier punctuated the last words with a double tap on the chalkboard, letting the chalk splinter and create a splattering period. They turned back to the class. "That is why you are here in this classroom, with me. To understand a system of magic that has largely been eschewed by our contemporaries and what it can offer us as mages."
There were critical looks from the students, but Venizier almost appreciated them at this point. When he'd first given up his titles and joined the school, he'd gotten looks of hatred from the students. Now? The students were critical of his proposal, and considering whether this course was going to be too dry.
He was being judged, but he was being judge as a teacher, not anything else.
"And before anyone asks. Yes I was alive when Old Magic was simply referred to as 'Magic.' I have probably forgotten more about the Runic Method than any of you know about New Magics over the years." He delivered is as a joke, but Venizier never laughed at it. He had forgotten many of the spells and incantations that had brought him fame, but it had been intentional.
Venizier was a Lich, an immortal being lashed to life by magic itself. In his first years, he'd been a skeleton, a shell of his former self. These days he was simply a simulacrum of one, Iron bones and a steel mask wrapped in enchanted robes.
The spells he'd forgotten in a dozen lifetimes? Those were the spells that had given him this life. The spells that had earned him a soul tithe. The spells that, given a dozen lifetimes to consider his mistakes, he should have never cast in the first place. He could have given up. He could have broken his phylactery and vanished from this plane but...
His death never would have repaid the debt of his lives. Instead, he'd chosen to repent, to give back, to raise the next generations.
Even if they snickered at the back of the classroom and called him a old fart behind his back. You could sculpt minds faster than you could win hearts.
"Now, after teaching this class many times I have found that it is best to begin with a demonstration. Some of you might have had this class recommended by peers. Some of you might have been volunteers by your schedule, but that isn't enough. Old Magic requires respect, in fact, it demands it. New magic, by comparison, is flippant, casual and accepting. But, like all instances of magic, this is transactional. Old Magic asks for more but--"
Someone pounded on the door. Venizier had locked it at the beginning of class to avoid stragglers interrupting his practiced introduction, but this wasn't that. He sighed and waved a hand.
The bolt slid out of the way and a woman tumbled onto the classroom's marble floor. Her robe was torn and splayed across the ground.
It took Venizier a moment, but he found the name. "Penelope," -she'd taken his class last year- "what's gotten into you?"
"I--" the woman went to get up and caught Venizier's hand on the way. The rest of the students were murmuring amongst themselves, but quieted with a wave of the teachers hand.
"Are you alirght?"
"I think so," she managed once she was mostly on her feet. "Professor Matherson has sent for you, you're needed on the grounds."
Venizier almost protested. If another Professor had asked, the Lich would have pointed out that he was teaching a class, but if anyone in this place held themselves to an academic standard, it was Matherson. "Any reason?"
"He said something about--" She caught her tongue, considering what she'd heard for a moment. "Mage hunters. I haven't gotten a good look at them."
The students bustled again. Venizier looked but didn't bother quieting them again. "On the grounds?"
"Approaching."
Venizier took a deep breath. Every time he broken his oath he made a new one. He took another vow that he would never.... It didn't matter did it? It didn't matter if he promised the powers above that he was done? He would be needed. He really needed to start adding caveats about using his powers for the right reasons. Still, it hurt breaking an oath after so many years.
"Penelope," he began, "being our students here to the West Tower with a view of the Courtyard. They still need their demonstration for this lecture. Prepare warding countermeasures."
"For the Mage Hunters?"
"No. You might be in the splash zone."
"Professor?"
"Now." Venizier said. Once Penelope started moving the Lich held out one of his iron skeletal hands. Old Magic had rules, but it also had feeling the way that New Magic didn't. Over lifetimes, Venizier could call upon Old Magic like a friend, summoning spells from memory and getting gifted the results.
There was no rune of spell for what he was doing, but you rarely needed proper grammar for a friend to understand the intention.
Around the classroom, marble pillars splintered and cracked as shards of gold a sapphire ripped themselves from their stone prison. Lanterns shattered as their magical cores flew to the middle of the room. A frigid wave crashed over the students as light ran from Old Magic's domain.
Venizier held out their hand, and grabbed the shards of precious stone and metal as they swirled around them, using magic to twist them into a summoned shape. From his palm, a spiraling staff crafted itself. Reassembling piece by piece after being shattered for his vow. Marble dust from the pillars fell to the floor as the shards cleaned themselves, falling into perfect place.
With a final forced, lungless breath, one somehow heard through the entire castle, Venizier finished the spell and the door to his classroom shattered as the knob pulled free from the wood. The silver and ruby knob, the one that students used to exit class every day, took its place at the head of Venizier's staff. Well, not this Venizier, but the one that'd struck fear in the hearts of Living Kingdoms for generations.
Venizier looked at the staff for a moment, and then tapped it on the floor, sparks ran up the cracks, fixing the last marks of a broken oath and forming the conduit of his power. For the first time in years, he felt the staff's focus in his palm, still warm from students use.
"Well then now students," he said to the classroom that was recovering from that example. "Let's proceed with our demonstration."
​
---
​
At at earlier time Venizier's arrival on the edge of school grounds would have stopped the armies of heaven themselves, but generations were forgetful. When scribes committed history to the page, the embellished some stories and softened others.
Venizier hadn't bothered reading history books, after all, he'd lived through those ages, but it was clear that the scribes had been softening his wrath for far too long. Whatever reputation he'd had, it was gone now, or at least so bastardized it might as well have been.
On the edge of the grounds, having stopped for a moment to wait for an answer to their threat, were mage hunters. Part of the other side of history Venizier had left behind when he'd abandoned his names and purpose. His actions back then had left scars on the land, stories of mad mages and horrific magic. Over time, it'd set some to hunting down those with mage blood. Riots and lynching had become an order. That order had become an ancient order.
A bunch of young upstarts was what they were today.
On the way over, Venizier had seen the hunters and some of the other professors having a conversation. He couldn't hear them, but he'd understood what it was. The mage hunters were, essentially, offering the students a quick death if they surrendered. The professors would have been making the same argument that Venizier would be making, he was just hoping that it was more convincing coming from him.
The leader of the mage hunters was a middle aged woman covered in scars from past hunts. Her sharp expression was only matched by the manabane dagger on her hip, a weapon carved from black, mageblood soaked cold iron. By the time Venizier made it to the edge of the courtyard, the battle lines as they were currently drawn, she was already in the middle of an impatient pace.
"Finally coming to surrender?" the woman asked. Her voice was softer than Venizier had expected. Then again, he'd heard that comment about himself a thousand times before. Voices didn't always match their hosts.
"I've come to insist that you leave the premises."
One of the mage hunters that was flanking the woman, a hulking man with a manabane maul and red tainted armor, snickered, the woman herself didn't seem to consider it a joke. "You're testing my patience," she finally spat.
"We are a college under protection of the new sectioned mage circles under the Thelrarian Peace Treaty," Venizier explained as he motioned back toward the school grounds, "I can assure you that we are an accredited and legit--"
The woman's blade was at Venizier's throat. She was fast. Frighteningly so to anyone with skin. "Do you think I give a damn about a treaty from a traitor king?"
Sometimes Venizier considered adding expressions to his golden mask, but then the woman would have seen him roll his eyes. One of those. "I have my political opinions as well. But the divine mandate of the King should be..." The woman hadn't lowered her weapon, only pressed it closer and closer to where Venizier's throat. "You're making a mistake, young woman."
"Only mistake here is your kind!" She snapped. Despite the flared anger, her hand was steady. That was the self control that had gotten her scars instead of dead. "Accept your fate and you die quick or don't and I'll make sure you think about your choice when you're in the Depths with Jolevask."
"You're making a mistake."
"It's not a mistake to fix this damned kingdom while we can still save--"
The woman's eyes went wide as she magebane dagger clattered to the ground several feet away from them. She was fast, but Venizier had conquered speed a thousand times in the form of the best assassins.
"Kill 'em." she hissed. It was met with cheers.
"You misunderstand," Venizier said as the sapphires in his staff began to glow, "you're not making a mistake in disobeying the King. You're making a mistake because this school is under my protection."
"Just another arrogant fucking Mage." The woman had a second dagger hidden in her coat, and she'd drawn it during Venizier's last attempt to stop the violence. The manabane blade pierced Venezier's golden mask, and it seethed with power, drawing out the magic in his soul to charge its arcane denial.
Venizier spoke, but the voice didn't seem to be coming from him.
"Kazlan's forever marred."
The manabane dagger started to shake in the woman's hands.
"Kazlan remembers the scars."
The dagger flared angrily, cracks spiderwebbing across the blade.
"Kazlan will bow," the voice took a breath, "to the butcher of Gods."
The woman dove to side as the manabane dagger shattered into dust, the last pieces of clean iron within shooting off into the mage hunter crowd. Venizier's golden mask toppled to the ground, with a scar carved into it.
Once the cracking sound of the dagger stopped echoing around the courtyard, Venizier bent down and grabbed the mask. The new hole revealed his glowing arcane gaze, brilliant and bloody in all its glory. "Need we continue?"
"What are you waiting for?" the woman asked from the ground. "I said kill h-"
She didn't get to finished the sentence as Venizier cracked her jaw with the bottom of his arcane staff, sending arcane sparks spiraling across the campus. On the recoil, he drew a line on the grounds. He understood what it meant.
They didn't.
The hulking man with the maul charged forward, heaving the massive weapon over his head. Venezier was under his guard before the man could think about abandoning his wild attack. The tradition of mages being easy targets came from New Magic, from improvised and unprepared spellcasting. That wasn't how things had worked in Venezier's day.
As the Lich slipped in close to the man, he tapped the runes on his staff in an impossible sequence, the skeletal fingers of his right hand twisting into impossible shapes as his left grabbed the chin strap of the man's helmet. Venezier used the momentum of the man to pull him close before whispering words in the old tongue.
The old tongue was understood by all. The hulking man heard, "Mine."
"Mind control! Be careful!" The woman was back on her feet, having picked up her weapon.
"Mind control is inefficient at removing targets from the battlefield," Venizier explained. His arcane voice was still projected across the campus. If he was going to waste his afternoon on this, he could at least get a lesson in. "This is more absolute" Venizier shoved the man to the side, letting him stumble past so he could turn his attention to the leading lady.
"Barbaro, are you okay?"
"I'll show you! Don't turn your back on me Mag--" Barbaro cut himself off with screams before blood poured out of his mouth, turning words into churning gurgles and sputtering cries. The man writhed, but didn't fall.
"What the fuck?!"
"Skeletal possession," Venezier announced. As he did, the man's limbs twisted and snapped into all the wrong directions before the right arm went limp, then blood-soaked ivory fingers erupted out of the man's mouth as his face went slack. His skeleton clawing its way out of its host to get to its new master. "Need I continue?"
The woman was gone for a moment and back the next, behind Venezier with her remaining dagger plunging toward his neck. Before it found his spine, Venizier's staff shot from his hands and blocked the dagger in place. The Lich sighed.
"Apparently I need to."

Harry Warden vs Phantom Killer

Forgotten slasher battle

Strength

Harry:

• Striking: Knocked Tom onto a pool table with a punch, stabs a man through the jaw and out the eye with a pickaxe, Takes down a wooden pole with one strike from his pickaxe, impaled two people with a drill bit off-screen.
• Pushing/pulling: Shoves a man into boiling water with one hand, pushes Tom to the ground, pulls down a wall of small wooden logs, pushes Tom and then gets his pickaxe stuck in a wall but easily pulls it out.
• Lifting/throwing: Throws Tom onto a pool table, lifts a woman and carries her for a little bit before impaling her on a shower pipe.

Phantom:

• Striking: Smashes a car window with a pipe, beats down a man and punches him a few meters away which also causes him to roll a little, knocks out the same man in the previous feat with one hit to the head with a pipe, punches through a screen door and kicks open a locked door.
• Pushing/Pulling: Pulls a man out of the car.
• Lifting/Throwing: Carries a woman.

Conclusion:
Harry is stronger than the Phantom in all categories except for striking without weapons, without weapons the Phantom has beat down a man and punched him a few meters away which also caused him to roll a little and punched through a screen door and kicked open a locked door. Which are better feats than Harry knocking Tom onto a pool table with a punch. However, with weapons, Harry has better striking strength since he stabbed a man through the jaw and out the eye with a pickaxe, took down a wooden pole with one strike from his pickaxe, and impaled two people with a drill bit off-screen. Any of which are better than the Phantom's striking feats with weapons which include smashing a car window with a pipe, and knocking out a man who was previously beaten badly with one hit to the head with a pipe. And since both are rarely ever unarmed I'll just give striking to Harry overall.
Harry is stronger.

Durability/Endurance

Harry:

• Quickly recovers after getting hit in the face with a shovel by Tom, unaffected after being hit by a shovel again, seems unaffected after being hit in the back with a big rock, Can grip onto Sarah's hand despite having his arm trapped under a bunch of rubble and the arm is being sawed off at the same time, he also appears to be in no pain during any of this.

Phantom:

• Somewhat recovers after getting shot in the leg, is still somewhat sprinting despite being shot in the leg a while ago.

Conclusion:
Harry can take way more damage than the Phantom ever can, he seems unaffected after being hit with a shovel and a rock, and he is seemingly in no pain as he cuts off his arm. The Phantom was just shot in the leg and only somewhat recovered.
Harry is more durable and can endure more damage.

Speed/Agility

Harry:
Phantom:
Conclusion:

Stamina

Harry:
Phantom:
Conclusion:

Weapons

Harry:

• A pickaxe, a nailgun, and a knife.

Phantom:

• A pipe, a revolver with a suppressor attached to it, a trombone with a knife attached to it, and a pickaxe.

Conclusion:
The Phantom has more weapons (even if one is just a torture tool and would never be used in an actual fight) and better weapons purely because of his gun.

Skill/Intelligence/Stealth

Harry:

• Skill: Can drive a car, dodges a punch from Tom and then counters it with a punch of his own, blocks multiple attacks from a shovel by Tom.
• Intelligence: Drops a lot of mining gear and the corpse of a previous victim so he can sneak up on a woman, fakes his death.
• Stealth: suddenly appears behind a man without making any noise until he shows up, pops out of nowhere and kills a woman with a pickaxe.

Phantom:

• Skill: Drives a car, kills a man (who was previously pretty badly beaten) with two shots from a revolver, shoots a man in the back of the neck two times, shoots a woman in the face two times.
• Intelligence: Pulls out a car's engine wires, goes into a swamp so the bloodhounds would lose his scent.
• Stealth: Sneaks up to the front of a car, sneaks up to a car with two people in it, quietly pops out of the bush behind a woman, sneaks around the back of a house.

Conclusion:
The Phantom is smarter and has better stealth than Harry, although I would argue skill is equal in different ways, as they can both drive cars, the Phantom mainly uses a gun which requires decent aim (and he seems to be competent with a gun he shoots a woman in the face two times)whereas Harry goes in close with a pickaxe and fights some victims (like what he did with Tom), because of this I think general skill goes to the Phantom but combat skill goes to Harry and because of that I'll say skill is equal.
The Phantom is smarter and has better stealth.

Brutality

Harry:

• [stabs a man through the jaw and out the eye](), [shoves a man into boiling water with one hand](), [impales a woman on a shower pipe](), [impaled two people with a drill bit offscreen.]()

Phantom:

• [

Conclusion:

Results:

[Death Bear]() vs [Grizzy]()

Brown bear showdown.

Strength

Durability/Endurance

Speed/Agility

Intelligence/Skill/Stealth

Stamina

Brutality

Results:

[Phantom Killer]() vs [The Fouke Monster]()

Charles B. Pierce battle.

Strength

Durability/Endurance

Speed/Agility

Stamina

Weapons

Intelligence/Stealth/Skill

Brutality

Results:

Mod(s), feel free to delete if this isn't the right place for this type of posts.
This was actually supposed to be only one post, but it ended up exceeded the character limit that reddit has set, so I've decided to split them into four parts instead.
This will be a combination of my thoughts and opinions during my first viewing when it came out (which I was live-tweeting over on twitter) and the re-watches I did the past few weeks.
I will go episode by episode and just comment on things that caught my attention. Some episodes and scenes will have me go into a bit more detail than others, depends a lot on how much I like the episode. This will be somewhat lengthy, but it will mainly just be me rambling. Don't expect anything too in-depth. I'm not really that good at putting my thoughts into words.
This will be very positive, btw, as I've grown extremely fond of this adaptation, could even call me a borderline apologist at this point (if that wasn't evident already by my comment history). There will be a couple of criticisms here and there, but I'm not planning on dwelling on them. I think we all are very much aware of some of its flaws and aspects that could've been handled better. The internet has already thorn this LA to shreds for it, so I'm not going to bother adding to it.
_______________________________________________________
Episode 1: [Aang]

• The opening is very good; starting off with a view of the Comet, panning down over a city and then directly going into a chase scene. Even if I wasn't a fan of the original series, this would have me immediately invested in the story and the character that is being chased. What little time we got with him, it was enough for me to care. Which says a lot, considering that this man is only a one-off character.
• It is pretty damn unfortunate that this was the only time in the entire season that the earthbending looked amazing, though. The Bumi moments later on were good, but nothing came close to the one in the opening. I hope to see improvement next season.
• Showing us how cruel and hard-hearted Sozin is so early is, in my opinion, also a good thing. His backstory reveal later on will be more impactful in that way.
• Not ashamed to say that seeing Aang's little, smiling face brought tears to my eyes.
• Already love Gyatso and the bond he has with Aang, they seem so much closer!
• Very glad that we get to see the Air Nomads before their end came about. I think it's extremely important to remember them as they lived, instead of defining them as just victims. I mean, the way the they are talked about in the animated series, you would think they were the equivalent of the Sumerians, a civilization from ancient times that went extinct over time.
• They never mention why they are all gathering at the Southern Temple in specific. So, I'm just gonna assume that they were going to announce that Aang is the Avatar either after or during the Comet Festival.
• I like this conversation between Aang and Gyatso as it is, but I feel like it would have benefited from a few silent moments, giving Aang some much-needed time to process the news.
• "You will always be my friend." iykyk! This was done so well on both their parts! But Gordon in particular did an amazing job here for someone that young; trying to keep things together and not look too affected, but his eyes gave everything away.
• Once again, Gordon nailed that scene with Appa! The intonations in his voice were on-point, coupled with those eyes filled with unshed tears. Though, I do feel like a couple of sentences could have been taken out. Just like I mentioned above with the Gyatso scene, there should have been a few more silent moments and less talking.
• The fact that Aang just wanted to go for a breather and Sozin arrived right after he left... The survivor's guilt he feels must be unfathomable.
• I do, however, wonder how Sozin knew that they were all going to be gathered at the Southern Temple. Did someone from the Air Nomads tell their Fire Nation buddy about it, and that one ended up snitching to Sozin... I should probably stop thinking.
• It's such a cowardly move to attack someone at night, when they're asleep... with their guard down... No wonder the Fire Nation went on to lie about this event in their history books.
• I've seen a lot of criticism regarding the inclusion of the genocide, saying that it's glorifying violence- it being unnecessary, and I vehemently disagree with that view. The LA narrative here is making it very clear that this is nothing short of a tragedy. They are showing us, not telling, how brutal the Fire Nation can be, and why the people in the current timeline despise and fear them so much. They are ruthless and had zero mercy for the most peaceful people in the world. Only showing the aftermath later on wouldn't have had the same effect on the viewer.
• Don't want to think about the pain that both the Air Nomads and the Bison were feeling when their other half got killed...
• The scene with the towers getting destroyed really hit hard for me (for personal reasons I will not get into), the Fire Nation isn't gaining anything from this action. At this point, it's not just a case of taking out someone that they deem as a threat, they are trying to erase the culture of the Air Nomads altogether.
• Gyatso meeting his end at the hands of Sozin... Roku's current best friend vs ex-best friend... Gonna see myself off the nearest cliff, guys!
• I wonder if Roku ever told either of them about the other... He probably gushed about Sozin to Gyatso during his stay at the Southern Air Temple for his training, and now that very man that Gyatso likely has a very positive view of is here committing these atrocities... I swear I'm normal about their friendship!
• Too many people complaining that they didn't do Gyatso justice with that last stand, which I, once again, disagree with. He was trying to protect the children. And for that reason, there was no way that he would have been able to suck the air out of the room, like most are saying he should have, without harming the children in the process.
• Sozin's line "But not when we have the power of the comet." could have been left out. It's okay and doesn't ruin the scene or anything, but I feel like it would have been more powerful if he only said "You may have prevailed on another night.", as this line already alludes to the importance of the Comet.
• That scene of Gyatso holding off Sozin transitioning over to Aang getting into the Avatar State was really good. Makes me wonder if perhaps it was Gyatso's death that triggered it... Like... Roku felt that and went super saiyan... I hate it here.
• And then that Aang scene immediately transitioning over to Katara trying, but failing, to waterbend! Intentional symbolism or am I looking too much into this? It first 'showed' the death of Aang's most beloved person and then went over to introducing us to the one that Aang will eventually end up loving the most.
• Katara practicing waterbending in secret and Sokka being against her doing it at all because he fears for her safety was so good! To be honest, I never understood why Katara in the original was so okay with doing it in the open, with Sokka just making remarks about her being weird for being able to bend. You cannot tell me the two of them couldn't put two and two together as to why Katara was the only bender in the South Pole, how dangerous it could be if the Fire Nation happened to spot her doing it. Either Gran Gran or their father never bothered to tell them about the danger (or didn't want them to know for their own peace of mind) or the Fire Nation just don't care any longer?
• Both Katara and Sokka are making some good points here. It's important to keep alive the culture and aspects of it that your oppressors have tried to erase, but I also understand that Sokka is more concerned with their physical survival as a people.
• Zuko looking so ecstatic when he saw the beam of light, compared to his sort of angry nonchalance and arrogance in the cartoon, was a welcome change. It only makes sense that he would be so excited about this.
• Absolutely love how they took Zuko's obsession with the Avatar to a whole new level in this; all those little statues, artifacts and those conspiracy wall corkboards. His little dia-, I mean, war journal, is everything to me!
• Ian has been doing amazing as Sokka, no complaints about him or his scenes so far.
• Not sure why, but Katara telling everyone to leave and let Aang rest made me chuckle. That was funny to me.
• I'm sorry, but I can't get over the fact that Zuko has a whole family portrait hanging in his little room... That hurts. I bet he painted it himself, that little art nerd.
• Aang wakes up from a century-long coma and first the thing he wanna do is play.
• A lot of people nag on the Gran Gran narration, but truthfully speaking, the scene in general was not bad at all. The only thing I didn't like is the writers making her say that intro bit that we all are very familiar with, word for word. Not only because we already got a visually-stunning montage of a rendition of it in the beginning with some great narration by Kyoshi, it just didn't fit the setting and the way the rest of the story was narrated. So, that bit should have either been completely re-worded, or left out altogether.
• Zuko being all about 'us' and 'we', instead of 'me, myself and I'!
• Am I the only one who thinks it would have been better if Aang had gone to Appa to seek some comfort after he was told about the genocide?
• Ooh, this is interesting! So, Hakoda and the other men of the village didn't leave to help the Earth Kingdom with their fight against the Fire Nation in this, they left to hunt down the Firebenders that attacked Wolf Cove three years prior.
• "No one visits other nations now. We're only friends with our own kind." The Fire Nation using the age-old Divide and Conquer strategy to win the war, I see. Smart move, I can tell you that much.
• Zuko's only response to Iroh's correct judgement about how Ozai would react to his return home being a childish "You're wrong" is funny for no reason! 😭
• I'm so happy about the way they portray Zuko's firebending skills in this! It was really inconsistent in the animated series: one episode he is unable to master the basics, and the next he is going toe-to-toe with one that is considered a master in a sense.
• Katara finally being able to actually waterbend because of one instruction from Aang tells me that she is a natural, all she needs is a bending teacher to help her realize her full potential.
• Sokka's anger is a hundred percent understandable, but I wish he wasn't so harsh on Aang...
• I love that Katara acknowledges how difficult of a time Sokka has been having looking after the village, 'cause in the animated series she seemed somewhat dismissive of how serious he was about the responsibility that his father has left him with, referring to it as him "playing soldier".
• Something tells me that Zuko was bluffing about burning the place down. He was clearly angry about the other kids fighting back, but it looked more like he was waiting for Aang to do something, took on a firebending stance but wasn't taking any real actions. The moment Aang spoke up, Zuko stopped immediately.
• What Aang said definitely affected Sokka's decision to save him. Imagine the Avatar, of all people, telling you that you are the bravest person they have ever met, after all those years of thinking that you aren't worthy enough to be considered a warrior just because you fumbled your ice-dodging trials.
• Sokka handing the mantle of leadership over to the next oldest kid, and the boy looking so excited that Sokka is trusting him with it was a really good scene.
• Really happy about the inclusion of the conversation between Aang and Iroh! And so early on in the season at that. Communication between the two sides was something that I was really missing in the animated series.
• Remember, guys, never leave your diary lying around in your room. Your twelve year old captive might get the petty idea to take it for himself.
• LA Zuko is completely unhinged lmao! Smiling like a maniac while Aang is basically falling to this death...
• When Sokka caught Aang mid-fall with that "Hey, kid!", and Aang looking so happy and relieved that someone came to his rescue.... my hearts hurts for this kid.
• I'm getting such strong siblings vibes from LA Aang and Sokka! The younger brother-older brother dynamic is on point here.
• Katara getting her time to shine too! And she waterbended that wave by doing the exact same airbending form that Aang was demonstrating to her earlier.
• He could have very well thrown another powerful fireball at them, but didn't... hmmm. Interesting...
• Zuko not taking his eyes off him and Aang continuing to look back at Zuko until he got out of sight... Soulmatism at play, me thinks.
• Aang finding Gyatso's corpse and his subsequent reaction to it actually made me tear up in this version. The combination of confusion, denial, sorrow and guilt turning into rage... so good! Not to mention, that we were already familiar with Gyatso and his strong bond with Aang, so the scene just hits extra hard.
• Gyatso's memory pulling Aang out of the Avatar State was such an amazing change! Katara saying that Sokka and her are his family now is okay for an animated children's show, but that wouldn't land that well in a live action setting, they haven't known one another long enough for that.
• The scene right after with Aang and Katara is one of my favorites in this episode; really well done. That sad, lost look of resignation on Aang's face, and then Katara just hugging him tightly without saying a word.
• Aang just sitting there, stroking Gyatso's amulet... pain is all I know... I don't know about you people, but I prefer that he is still grieving instead of going straight back to his normal, happy self.
• "It's only after we've lost something that we realize how much it means to us... and how we'd do anything to get it back... Anything." This Aang voice-over while showing us the scene of Zuko rage-drawing a portrait of Aang right after he lost him is so funny! 😭
• Zuko really said "You look easy to draw".

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Episode 2: [Warriors]

• Zuko throwing a tantrum over losing his notebook and Aang running away was a fun way to start off this episode. His little "He ran!" outburst has been living ren-free in my head for two months now.
• I'm going to be honest here, animated Zuko's tantrums annoyed me at times, despite his circumstances, because he very much looks and sounds like a guy in his twenties, instead of a sixteen years old. LA Zuko on the other hand looks, sounds and acts like an actual teen that just desperately wants to go home, so I can't help but feel pity for this one.
• The situation and their opinion on the Avatar aren't exactly the same as the ones at the end of episode two in Book One, but I like that they switched up Zuko and Iroh's assessment of Aang; with Zuko thinking of him as a coward for running away instead of fighting him 1v1, and Iroh telling him not to underestimate Aang. I find it a nice and fitting change. Also, my delusional mind tells me he is already fond of Aang and doesn't want Zuko to think too negatively of the poor kid. 🏃
• Getting a bit distracted by Katara in the background smiling the whole time when Aang is talking lol.
• I really like that Sokka and Katara are having this discussion on whether or not they should return home. Sokka's flawed view of thinking that Aang doesn't need any help because he believes he is powerful enough already is understandable because of the way he was raised, putting traditional warrior skills above all else. But physical strength is not all there is, nor is it the most important trait you can have, Sokka will learn this going forward. Katara on the other hand wants to accompany Aang, not only 'cause she doesn't want to abandon him, but also because she is very eager to see where this journey will take her regarding her bending, which is very nice. This argument here was a good way of showing us what the siblings are like, and what they value.
• The animals have been looking amazing so far. I was pretty worried about Momo's appearance, but he looks wonderful; it looks even more adorable in its real-life form!
• Katara receiving the waterbending scroll from Gran Gran instead of finding it at a random market place was really nice. Her stealing back something that belonged to her culture was good, but I like what the LA did with it as well. The scroll having been some sort of heirloom (?) that has been passed down in the tribe, and them having to keep it hidden so that the Fire Nation wouldn't take or destroy it also adds great meaning to it. This is something many colonized groups can relate to, mine included.
• Aang trying to give Gyatso as proper of a burial as he could was a great addition!
• Quite disappointed that the sanctuary room with the statues from the Southern Air Temple episode doesn't exist here. Dumb complaint, I know, but that place is just too iconic for me, so, I was hoping to see it.
• Finding joy in the simple things in life comes so easily to Iroh! He brought Zuko to this port so they could get some information on the Avatar's whereabouts, and yet he is getting distracted by the food and wants Zuko to try it out and relax a bit. Loved the whole scene!
• Dallas is so good with his facial expressions! Such a talent when it comes to letting the viewers know what his character feels without having to say a single word.
• Such a big fan of Yukari being jaded and not wanting to accept the Gaang immediately, regardless of Aang's status as the Avatar! It's understandable that she'd be worrying about the safety of her people. Sure, Aang himself isn't dangerous, but those that want to capture him are. It hurts to admit, but Aang really does bring trouble wherever he goes...
• And I love that Aang is understanding of her reserved stance, and how clear it is that he doesn't want nor expects privileges because of his status. But he is being very reasonable that it's important for him to gain knowledge on how to be the Avatar so he could be of better help to the world.
• "I know I don't belong here. That's something I've been feeling a lot lately." Got me teary-eyed there for a sec.
• "But if you can help me, if I can learn to be the Avatar, maybe I could bring the place I knew, a world were people were happier, back." Oh, you sweet little angel, if only things were that simple. His belief in seeing the best in humanity is beautiful. I don't think this comes from a place of naivety either, it's just in his nature. Unfortunately, the rest of the world does not have this type of mindset, although it's understandable why they don't.
• Suki being the one to stand up for them was really nice, reminding Yukari that the kindness of strangers can go a long way. This conversation between them also gives the two characters depths, giving us a bit of insight into their fears, wishes and beliefs, getting the viewer more familiarized with them, which make it easier for one to find a connection with them.
• Sokka making a fool of himself trying to impress Suki, and Katara and Aang just standing by and holding in their laughter, refusing to pitch in with some help is peak sibling behavior.
• I love Suki emphasizing that she is not just any warrior. She is a Kyoshi warrior, one raised to uphold the values of the Avatar, and a title she greatly honors.
• Zhao recognizing that it was Zuko right away was so funny to me! Heard a kid coming in making demands like a spoiled little brat and immediately figured "Yep, that gotta be the banished prince".
• Already very big on this change in Zhao! These manipulative, sneaky traits are what I love in an antagonist.
• A bit peeved that Zuko and Iroh aren't already acquainted with Zhao, though. But then again, this also resulted in them actually 'working together' for a while, which was great.
• I think Suki's social awareness meter is broke... Sis, read the room!
• I really liked that she looked away and left immediately when she noticed that Sokka was feeling uncomfortable by her staring, though. The meter might not be too broke, after all.
• Aang not wanting to start learning the other elements right now because he isn't yet ready to let go of Gyatso, whom was his only bending teacher so far is a really nice change that I can get behind.
• I love the scene afterwards with Katara splashing him with water and then the two of them playing in the river. Not only was it a sweet moment, this also showed Katara's empathetic nature; she didn't like seeing Aang down like that, and instead of letting him leave in that sad state of mind, she tries to actively distract him from his pain, even if it's only for a little while.
• I don't understand the people who complain about Aang not having learned any waterbending this season; how it apparently ruined part of his character build, the enjoyment of watching the show or that it's somehow bad writing... I'm sorry, but how exactly did it ruin any of that?

For starters, they didn't name this "Season One: Water", it's simply "Season One". Second, learning waterbending wasn't even that big of a thing for Aang, it was important for Katara's character. Third, this was intentionally done because they are building up to something more.
The enjoyment part is subjective for all. I personally do not care that he didn't learn any waterbending. Not only do I really like the reasoning for why he refuses to learn it from a story-telling perspective, but for me personally, the bending is not, and never has been, the reason as to why I love the Avatar-verse.

• Aang having fun playing together with the other kids of the village, and Katara looking on with so much fondness on her face! I'm sporting such a stupid grin right now because of this scene. Just seeing him happy makes her happy!
• Looks like Suki took flirting lessons from Azula... Forget playing hard-to-get, intimidation tactics is where it's at.
• Jokes aside, though; I absolutely adore how she was flirting with him by trying to impress him with something she is very good at, something that they have in common. She was raised as a sheltered warrior, with absolutely no contact with the outside world, so it make sense that she wouldn't really know how to go about letting the other person know that she is interested in them. This was bound to result in an awkward situation.
• To add to this already great character-building moment for Suki, we also see cracks of Sokka's toxic masculinity at play again, and I love that they are not 'in your face' about this, it's more subtle. Some might have written his reactions off as him just being afraid of her skills and strength, but I don't think that that is what the writer is trying to get at here. If you pay attention closely, already being aware of how Sokka was raised; it is very clear that he was not expecting Suki to be better than he was. He is of the belief that, with him being a guy, he is stronger and more skilled in combat by default. He wasn't just intimidated by her skills; he felt emasculated and got embarrassed because of it.
• Turning Kyoshi's statue into a shrine was such a nice touch!
• Love that little easter egg in the Kyoshi painting; her fighting Chin The Conqueror, and absolutely demolishing him!
• This new take is very interesting; Aang having to train to get his powers under control because he was too strong, instead of having to train to become more skilled. And I love that the other kids never excluded him and still wanted to play with him despite being afraid of his power.
• It's understandable now why he said that he doesn't want his powers, that he would be willing to change places with any of his friends if he could; it wasn't just about the responsibilities of being the Avatar, he just doesn't want the strong skills he has because of the harm it can post to others. He is such a gentle soul. :(
• I love that they brought back the vender from the beginning of the episode to inform Zuko and Iroh about Zhao's whereabouts lol.
• I absolutely adore the one-on-one training session! With Suki being so confident, trying to stay professional, but getting all flustered and awkward whenever she gets into a little intimate position with Sokka.
• "Sometimes, hope can be a cruel thing." He is absolutely right about that! I love that LA Iroh doesn't dance around his words and instead just straight up tells him what he really thinks. And you can see that Zuko in turn really appreciates it.
• Another little addition that I am very fond of is how Zuko doesn't hold back from talking about how he feels whenever he is alone with Iroh. It's already very clear early on that Iroh is his confidant. The trust Zuko has in him lovely to say the least; how strongly he believes in Iroh to stay by his side regardless of whether or not he agrees with his views or actions is something I really adore about this duo. Unconditional love can be harmful, but there so much tragic beauty in it when written well.
• Is it just me, or was there a shift in Suki's personality when she took off her make-up? Almost like she turned into a person that wears her heart on her sleeve. It's not bad, if anything I think it's really interesting. But still, I prefer her distant and socially awkward personality from before.
• Not sure how I feel about both Sokka and Suki already having a crush going. Though, it's understandable given their circumstances (being that the other is probably the first girl/boy their age that they have seen outside of their village). Not saying that this is bad writing or anything, far from it. It's just so happens that I prefer friendship, so I would have liked for them to have kept this bond platonic for now.
• I love the conversation they had about benders and non-benders, bringing up the inequality, how differently they are viewed by society. This almost seems to be an allegory for how men and women are viewed when it comes to certain topics like sports and fighting, the different expectations society has set for both.
• While I dislike eavesdropping, I really like that Yukari stayed around to listen and understand how Suki feels. I like that she didn't interrupt the two, and instead let her have her moment with Sokka.
• I think they should have left the Avatar State talk for the next season, 'cause now I feel like they won't be adapting that scene with Roku from Book Two anymore, which is really unfortunate because it's one of my favorites of the entire franchise.
• Haven't brought it up yet, but I adore the costumes in this so much! Everything has been looking fantastic so far.
• "Funny. That's not what I had heard." Hehe.
• Huge fan of this version of Zhao. I simply don't have it in me to hate funny villains.
• I love how this fight against Zhao and his men was the moment that Yukari was revealed to have been a former Kyoshi Warrior.
• Too many people are harsh on this LA depiction of Kyoshi. I don't understand how anyone came to the conclusion that she was villainized in this version. Kyoshi was very calm, kind, and only turned grim when Aang said that he doesn't want to hurt anyone. Sure, you could say that she could have handled it better, considering that she talking to a child, but her anger is not unjustified.

Aang might be a pacifist monk that does not want to inflict harm on others, regardless of who they are. But as the Avatar, he can't afford to think that way, as his duty is to the people; sometimes he will get in a situation in which there will be no other option besides fighting, or even going as far as taking a life, in order to protect another. Aang was in dire need of some tough love, and Kyoshi was the perfect person to receive it from.

• I feel like she was hugely projecting here too lol. She seems to see a lot of herself back in Aang; this kind and compassionate nature she herself had has probably caused her a lot of pain and trouble in her lifetime too, cost innocent people their lives for all we know.
• Also, the vision is already showing us a couple of the characters that we will be introduced to later on during the Northern Tribe arc, which is nice; Hahn, Arnook and Pakku can be seen clearly. And I love how the first scene of the vision was Katara shielding herself from an incoming fireball at the Temple!
• I really like that they didn't make the Kyoshi Warriors over-the-top powerful. They might be an elite class raised to be strong and skilled, but they don't have any real combat experience, so it makes sense that they would struggle to defeat a platoon of benders who have probably been in this business for years at this point.
• I adore Zuko for never attacking out of nowhere. He always gives the other the option to back down. This is a really good trait to have as a leader; nothing good comes from attacking people randomly without giving them a choice to opt out.
• Katara trying to stop Zuko and his crew from getting to Aang with the little itty bit of waterbending she knows was precious. Bless her soul for trying.
• Not Zuko getting ready to strike Katara while she was already down... This is straight up Azula behavior! There is a lot more that I want to talk about regarding how vicious he gets whenever his opponent is down, but that bit will be more appropriate to bring up in 'Masks', so I will leave it for that particular episode.
• I can never get enough of that scene with Kyoshi coming in. Replayed it so many times!
• I love how Zuko's desperation is shown in this whole sequence. The fact that he was ready to take on Kyoshi, of all people, to capture Aang says a lot about his determination (and stupidity, but we ain't gonna get into that here)... this kid truly has a death wish, doesn't he?
• The laughing fit I got into when Zhao told his men to retreat and they all just scampered! Not judging, though, their fear is absolutely understandable. I'm also scared of Kyoshi.
• I love how, despite all that big talk, she still didn't bring any real harm upon those Firebenders. She could have, and would even be justified in doing so, but she chose not to.
• Yukari coming around only after Aang helped save the village was great. And I love how they are keeping this continues theme of hope from the animated series.
• "You have given us something far more valuable in return. A reason to believe again; in our village, in ourselves... and in the Avatar." I love this line from Yukari so much! All this time they have lived isolated from the rest of the world, believing this to be the best way to protect themselves, probably already having lost faith in the Avatar as well. I love how Aang's visit to the village changed Yukari the most out of all of them. The scene of her and the rest of the village bowing to Aang and him bowing back was so good!
• "Thank you, Sokka, for bringing the world to me." Period, girl!
• I think a peck on the cheek would have been a bit nicer, the kiss could've been kept for the next season. But then again, that's just my aro-ace self talking, so ignore that. Loved the addition of Suki giving him the fan, though!
• Honestly, LA Suki perfectly embodied the line "I am a warrior. But I'm a girl too." that OG Suki says in Book One. Showing instead of telling, remember?
• I love Sokka's older brother energy so much! This adaptation has given us a lot of good, new scenes between Sokka and Aang that I adore. Their bond has been steadily growing.
• "Don't tell anyone!" Pfft! This sealed the deal for me. I love this adaptation of Zuko! So dramatic for no reason.
• Zhao snitching the moment he got off Zuko's boat has me in tears! 😭
• Never got any qualms with Ozai's face being revealed so early on, keeping it hidden wouldn't have even made any sense, considering that we all already know who portrays him. The reveal in the original wasn't even that big of a deal; I know many og fans liked the mysterious aura, how it made him seem so menacing and evil, only for him to be revealed to look like a regular, handsome man (something about evil hiding under a beautiful facade). And while I definitely get that sentiment, I don't think it really adds that much to his character. There are plenty of very good looking characters in this franchise that commit outrageous acts.

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Anyway, that was it for now. I've already written up a good chunk of the rest of the episodes, but I'm not sure when I'll be posting those, 'cause I'm far from done with them.
Until then!

Hey everyone. I am just looking for some guidance here. I am doing daily micro dose ketamine through Joyous and it has really done wonders for my mental health. I recently changed insurances and need to find a new PCP after having the same one for close to 20-25 years. I have some chronic conditions and I don't go to the doctor unless I have a really specific request because I know how it works when you go in there and tell them about vague symptoms such as pain or low energy. I haven't been to a primary doctor in a while. The problem is that I have a lump under my gums on my lower jaw that probably needs looked at. I'm not super worried because it is painless and not inflamed, it is just hard and almost feels like a bone bump on my lower jaw. I have a connective tissue disorder, so it's probably just another weird effect of that. I know I should still have it checked out.
I am pretty scared of telling anyone that I am doing these treatments, but I also don't feel like I should omit it either in case the sublingual ketamine is related to this at all. I did contact my provider for the ketamine and they mostly just assure me that the medicine is safe.
Has anyone here had a bad experience telling your doctor you're doing this? Any good experiences? I may just be overthinking things but I am scared that this is going to go on my medical record and that people are going to treat me differently or it may affect my care. I am torn between being upfront, just omitting it, or just not going to the doctor and waiting for my regular dental checkup for my dentist to look at it. Any guidance or push in the right direction would be appreciated.

I've collected some information below that I wish I had when I first started treatment. Hopefully, this will help others get started, as a CPAP machine can have a profound positive impact on your life long term.
The CPAP Machine
Initially, I mistakenly thought the CPAP machine was just a simple pressure device. However, it's actually a highly refined piece of technology. I'll discuss the ResMed 10 and 11, which are dominant in the market. The key functions of the machine and mask are:

1. Maintain a constant positive pressure while you breathe
2. Humidify the air you breathe
3. Filter incoming air
4. Heat the hose so the humidified air you breathe doesn't condense (preventing your skin and the hose from getting wet)
5. Dispose of outgoing CO2 from your lungs
6. Identify obstruction events
7. Log everything to internal storage and send data via your phone's Bluetooth to the cloud and your doctor

Placement
It's usually recommended to place the machine at your level, such as on a nightstand. However, there is quite a bit of flexibility as long as the hose doesn't get tangled while you sleep. The most important thing is to place it where there is plenty of fresh, clean air (since you are essentially breathing everything there for hours, at pressure). For example, placing it inside a nightstand should be carefully considered as airflow can be poor, and furniture often contains flame retardants known to cause cancer. The risk of cancer from furniture might be lower than the risk of fire under normal conditions, but not necessarily in a CPAP situation. See for example the CPAP recall done by Philips where they used a foam inside the machine that caused lung cancer to thousands of people.
Side Effects
Side effects are so common among CPAP users that you're almost assuredly going to experience some. The key thing is that they are generally easy to solve, so it's important that you look up your side effects to find solutions or post them here. The most common side effects are around the face (e.g. irritation), and they are usually resolved by switching masks, which I'll talk about below. There are also side effects that are known to disappear by themselves - for example, when starting you might experience chest pain as it's harder to breath out with stronger pressure. Your muscles should adjust in a few days to eliminate it.
Choosing the Right Mask
Selecting the right mask is the most important decision you can make for a comfortable CPAP experience. Nasal masks that fit inside the nostrils have the lowest reported problems. They provide an excellent seal regardless of movement and facial hair, and they reduce skin contact to just the nostril area, which is accustomed to being wet and humid. If you are a mouth breather, you could use mouth tape or a chin strap (though using a mouth guard with a chin strap is recommended to avoid teeth chipping).
Another benefit of a nasal pillow style mask is its design, which allows the hose to exit from the top of your head (like the P30i, which I use and recommend). This makes it effortless to shift sides as you sleep, as it simply rotates with you.
Cleaning
Hygiene is important as the humid environment in the machine, mask, and hose can become a breeding ground for bacteria. There have been verified cases where people with poor machine hygiene have contracted dangerous respiratory diseases. The easiest method I found to keep the machine clean is:

• Daily: Just empty the water tank and wipe the part of the mask that touches your skin.
• Weekly: Partially fill your sink with water, submerge the mask, hose, water tank, etc., in warm soapy water for a few minutes, rinse, then use a dryer (like this one) to get everything dry within an hour.

This shouldn't take more than a minute daily and 5 minutes for the weekly cleaning.
Hopefully, you found these tips useful. Feel free to comment, correct, share your own experiences, and ask questions!

25,F, 6.0, 215, smoke w33d lightly, mix, Unknown issue with jaw and side of head

I have an issue where it feels like there's rotted skin or almost rice crispy treat like feeling under the skin right under the entrance to my ear and it follows all the way down to my bottom right jaw.
It isn't usually sore, but when I apply pressure like when I put in headphones I can feel the texture and hear and feel popping sounds similar to air. This is not in the canal itself which as been checked. I also can always pop my neck pretty much always. I can open my jaw fine and even eat without any pain or soreness. Also when I press on my temple I can feel little things almost like small sticks behind the cartilage in my ear.
I also have a broken tooth on the back right of the jaw. When I put air pressure in my mouth I can feel it making it's way into the bottom jaw and somewhat to the side.

Last April I was prescribed 150mg bupropion 2x daily. I was instructed to start with 1 tablet in the morning, and after a week add the 2nd one in the afternoon/evening. Taking just 150mg/day helped drastically so I never increased to 300/day. When I first started taking it I experienced pretty bad side effects, but I finally felt happy so I decided it was worth the trade-off. Most of the side effects went away after awhile.
I've either built a tolerance or I just get extra sad in April because I hit a bout of depression again and decided to add the 2nd dose as prescribed. Now I'm experiencing nearly every side effect on the list of possible side effects. Trouble sleeping is one of them, but I know that's from taking it later in the day and I was instructed to space the tablets at least 8 hours apart. Other than that I've had loss of appetite, constipation, ringing ears, abnormal dreams, trembling, dry mouth, fever, blurry vision, headaches, and horrible jaw pain. It's like having "rave jaw" for days on end – I can't relax my face muscles and often need to bite my cheeks/tongue or a mouth guard to hold my jaw still. This happened the first time too so I know (hope) it will subside but it's very annoying and painful. I also had recurring UTIs for the past year and learned that's a side effect too. Fun!
At this point I'm wondering if the barrage of side effects is really worth it. Do I just stick them out and hope they mostly go away like before? When I first started meds I got a big boost of happiness in less than a week, but since increasing my dose ~10 days ago I haven't gotten that happiness boost to accompany the side effects.
I'm scared to switch my meds because (I know this might sound bad) I don't want to take one that will affect my sex drive or cause weight gain. But I'm also afraid I will just continue building a tolerance for bupropion and have to increase my dose every year with no end in sight. I'm also scared to quit because I don't want to feel the way I did before meds.
If you've been in a similar situation, what worked for you?

I am dealing with an unknown pain source (and am working with a DO to get to the bottom, but keeping the boat moving and steered in a direction is not something I take for granted happens by itself). Anyway, I have more questions than answers, I feel like the world's biggest hypochondriac, and while I'm waiting 1-3 weeks to get imaging/specialists I've noticed something specific about my pain that I'm wondering if you all had thoughts or experience with.
Why does my pain in general get worse over the course of the day? there's some nerve involvement but I believe something is involving the nerve such that the root cause of the pain isn't originating from the nerve. hot/cold drink, or wind, or hot shower can all trigger a pain flare. Specifically, the inflammation that I think is aggravating my nerve seems to be lower in the morning, but by afternoon I can feel swelling under my jaw that radiates back like it's pressing into my throat, up into my ear, behind my one eye. Additionally I can only keep my contacts in comfortably until about noon before I have to swap them out for my glasses. Any idea of why the time of day would affect this?

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Why were the Bag Lanaktallan so different from the Great Herd that remained on the outside? That’s an easy question to answer…
TerraSol.
You see, Earth isn’t the way it is because it is the Cradle of the Mad Lemurs…the Lemurs are Mad because of Earth: there’s no other place even remotely like it, because the Malevolent Universe isn’t Stupid or Sadistic enough to make a second one.
Humanity twists and changes everything that it touches, but Humanity isn’t the culprit…only the catalyst for Mother TerraSol’s Will (a fact to which every Confederacy Race will attest) in execution of the Malevolent Universe’s Grand Plan…
…or perhaps not.
Regardless, the Lanaktallan, Tunvaru, Telkan, and other races that were on Earth changed more in their fifty-two years of confinement than the same races on the outside did in forty-thousand.
They went Native, and though they may not be Humans, they were Terrans all the same…and that became everyone else’s problem. – Lanaktallan Philosopher Moo’rto’kno, Confederacy Cultural Anthropologist, “Re-Engineered: The Culture Bomb of the Repatriating Terran Diaspora and the SUDS Flood.” Lanaktallan Great Galloping Press, 49231 (Confederacy Reckoning)
Wrixet was all by himself but he wasn't alone.
The lead creature, mouth full of fangs, drooling red glowing liquid, snarled and jumped forward from where it was crouched down on all fours.
"FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE, TELK!" he bellowed you, stepping into the leap, swinging from the hips. The grav-fist hit the charcoal skin and the creature's head and shoulders exploded into burning chunks of charcoal that reminded Wrixet of BBQ briquettes.
The body of the creature flew back, shattered from the increased kinetic force amplified by the grav-fist, briquettes raining down into the mass of creatures in the interlock zone transition chamber.
The others all screeched and charged. Some leaping, some jumping onto the walls, digging in their claws to scamper forward, others jumping to the ceiling and bounding along it.
They swarmed out.
Wrixet parried claws with his forearm and upper left arm and answered with punches, open hand smacks, backhands, elbows, and forearms. When he had to, he kicked out, his boots shattering the charcoal. Each wound brought forth a gout of red energy that tore at his nerves, made him feel like he was being shockprodded by...
by...
...by Lawsec in their armor and uniforms, laughing at him as they shockprodded him again, on the ground, trying to crawl away from the boots and the prod.
The rage welled up inside of him and he roared back into their faces as he answered their screeching with punches and kicks. He slammed the grav-fist into bodies, shattering them, into faces, destroying their skulls, into their arms or legs, ripping them free.
The red energy ripped at his nerves and he bellowed his rage back.
They still got by him. The airlock was built for the big insects to be able to use.
One Telkan brawler couldn't hold it.
He hit with everything he had, repeatedly, knocking them back and forth. A punch to the face or the lower midsection shattered them into briquettes. The spikes weren't just for looks, when a punch or a grab and twist ripped them away thanks to the grav-fist, reddish energy poured out and they screamed, trying to reach the base of the now missing spike.
He could hear the roaring of the cutting bars behind him and knew that D44 and Naxen would handle any that by him as he stepped all the way into the doorway. It was a short passage, doors on each side, an additional airlock to protect the ship in the interlock zone was compromised.
They could only come at him a few at a time. Screaming and screeching, clawing at him.
His armor was scored, slashed, gouged, but he kept swinging, kept fighting.
"Wrix, we gotta run, Telk," Naxen yelled out as Wrixet backhanded the face off of one and it crumpled to ash.
"GET OUT!" Wrixet yelled. "Run!"
"Not without you!" D44, Imna called out.
"GET OUT!" Wrixet turned and threw a hard punch, driving the thing against the black metal of the airlock wall. It shattered, coals and red energy that lashed at him.
"We'll be at the computing core!" Naxen shouted.
Wrixet didn't answer, ducking under a sword blade and coming up to shatter the creature's chest with a punch.
Bob, weave, strike, bob, strike strike strike, weave, bob, strike.
He was kicking burning coals out of the way with every step. Every punch sent coals showering through the airlock to bounce off the walls, the ceiling, the floor.
The HUD in his visor was showing his upper left arm pauldron as yellow, his shoulder gardbrace was yellow, his rerebrace bright amber. His chest plate was still green, edged out of blue, but the grav-fist was blue and the power level was stable.
The air in his armor hissed and he could suddenly breathe easier, the HUD displaying "O2 INJECTION UNDERWAY" in the upper right. He was still sweating, his whole body feeling like it was slicked with sweat.
None of that mattered as he kept swinging, kept holding the hallway.
They were still getting by him, but in less numbers.
He planted his feet, part of his mind imagining that his feet were tree trunks, that he had roots sinking deep into the ground as he kept swinging.
One breathed fire at him and he got his arms up, crossed in an X, protecting his visor. When it stopped he reached forward, slapping its jaw shut with a hard open handed slap. The creature's head broke free and it collapsed into chunks of smoldering coals.
"I'm going to close the door!" Emry's voice was far away, tinny, barely heard.
Wrixet just backed up, steadily, still swinging. His shoulders were starting to ache, the nerves across his chest, his abdomen, the front of his thighs were burning like he'd been splashed with molten metal.
He pushed it away.
He could hear the Lawsec patrolmen laughing at him as they kicked him, his school satchel spilled open, books having fallen out.
One tried to leap over him and he punched upwards, jumping slightly.
The grav-fist shattered its body.
"Telk thinks he's gonna be something with them books," one of the Lawsec laughed, kicking his math book into the gutter.
Another tried to go by, low and fast, but a kick to the side slammed in against the wall and he drove the grav-fist against the back of its head even as he shifted and lifted his left arm to take the hits from the other two, which were getting in each other's way, against his upper arm's armor.
"Gonna be special, Telk?" another laughed, putting a toe on the screen of his school dataslate and leaning on it. The cheap macroplas cracked and broke.
He took two steps back and more flooded toward him. A kick disabused the leader of any notion he was giving up, the boot shattering its skull.
They all laughed at him as one began urinating on the ground, the liquid splashing his swollen and bruised face.
He was out of the entryway, still swinging.
"Lick that up, Telk," one of the Lawsec laughed.
He started to step back in, screaming against the visor. Lift the shoulder, take the hit on the pauldron, line drive into the face, feel them crumble. Backhand, tear the face and front of the head off, feel them crumble, drive the forearm forward, bent at the elbow, shatter the torso, kick the coals away.
"DROPPING THE BLAST DOOR!" Emry yelled out.
The door thudded down and Wrixet hit it with the grav-fist, the punch suddenly intersected by the door instead of impacting the screeching face.
"Run, Wrixet," Emry said. "We have four more ships locking into the docking rings."
He turned at the waist, smashing aside a screeching creature that had been raking at his back. A step forward and kicking one into chunks of charcoal. Smash down with the elbow, ignore the beeping and HUD warning as it goes red, shatter the body.
The hallway was clear and he looked around.
Wrixet suddenly realized he didn't know which way to go.
"I'm lost," Wrixet said.
"Go straight," Emry said.
Wrixet took off running, following directions.
At one point he heard screeches in the reddish darkness.
More screeches came back.
The burning feeling was setting into his bones, having chewed through the muscle. It was in his abdomen, filling his guts full of gnawing and chewing fireants. It was in his brain, bringing up every single time he had been beaten, spit on, knocked around, robbed.
A creature reared up, swiping at him. He bobbed underneath and came up inside of its reach. The smashing blow from the grav-fist shattered its head.
The energy washed over him as he killed two more in rapid succession.
He was six again. Coming home from school on the public tram. His school uniform was old, a handmedown his mother had bought at a used clothing store, but it was clean, repaired, and lovingly pressed.
Two more jumped him. The first he shattered with a single blow.
The second he pinned against the wall, his hand open, the grav-fist snarling as he pressed its spiked head against the wall.
He started driving his fist into its midsection, answering its screeches with bellows of his own.
The Lawsec got on. They moved down, making people put their hands on the scanner. They reached one. One laughed, knocking his school cap off. Another grabbed at his satchel. He tried to hold on, crying out, confused.
He ran forward and slammed a shoulder against four of them, crushing them against the bulkhead, roaring at them, punching punching punching
Lawsec were supposed to be his friend. That's what they said in school. He didn't understand. What did he do wrong? He was a good Telkani. He got good grades. The teacher said he was smart and worked hard. His mom said he was a good Telkani.
One tried to run and he followed it, his boots thudding against the deckplate as he gave a howling cry back. A shade swept out of the wall and he shattered it with a negligent swing of his arm, the protoplasm coating his armor and steaming as the icy cold gel hit the hot plates of his armor.
They rooted through his satchel. One took the dataslate, showed it to the other. They were all laughing.
It screeched and he bellowed back, catching up to it. He was faster than even a Telkana at short distances.
The other Telkan looked away. Why wouldn't they help? Why were the Lawsec mad at him? What did he do wrong?
He tackled the running one, taking it to the ground, bouncing through a cluster of them that were exiting an interlock zone airlock. He was kicking, punching, smacking, beating his face against theirs as he screamed back into their faces.
The Lawsec bent his datapad like teacher said not to, all of them laughing harder. He could see the quiz he took with the "GOOD JOB! A+! DOING GOOD!" on the screen.
He grabbed spikes on the back of a big one, pulling himself to his feet, ignoring the pain, and slammed two hammerblows with the grav-fist into its back. It screamed and he bellowed back.
There was an older Telkana next to the window across from him. Old like momma. He looked at her, staring to cry, wondering why she wasn't helping him. Isn't that what mamma's did?
He turned and punched another out of the way, grabbing the second one by the horns and pounding his face against its face, screaming back.
The old Telkana looked away, out the window.
One raked talons across his chest. He slammed the grav-fist into the elbow and the arm turned to smoldering chunks.
Why wouldn't she help him?
He stepped forward again, punching, slapping, kicking. He was in a warped hallway, the black metal of the hallway curved and ribbed strangely, with burning runes everywhere and chains hanging from the ceiling. Two ran at him and he charged them, both flinching back at his sudden bellowing charge.
One of the Lawsec grabbed his ear and twisted. He started crying harder, pawing at the arm of the hand twisting his ear.
He grabbed a chain and used the grav-fist to yank it free. Three more creatures were staring at him as he wrapped it around his forearm, the HUD showing it bright amber with strobing lines outlining it.
The dataslate broke with a loud snap, blue smoke wafting up, chunks of macroplas flying free.
He roared and charged.
One ran.
He slammed into the other two, kicking one apart, grabbing the other and slamming it face first into the wall, punching the back of its head.
It crumbled.
The Lawsec laughed.
He turned and kicked on out of the way, grabbing the other by the horns with both hands. He screamed back at it as he wrenched the horns apart.
Its skull split in two and it fell into burning chunks.
One of the Telkani across from him, that he knew from homeroom, jumped up and pushed at the Lawsec. "Stop, your hurting him. Hurting is wrong!"
A group rushed by behind him and he spun and followed them. He grabbed the slowest by the ankle, yanking it back, punching it where the legs met the body, throwing the crumbling chunks aside. The grav-fist was snarling, sparking, the leading edge of energy burning red.
One of the Lawsec laughed, grabbing the other Telkani, holding him while another slapped him.
Two turned to face him. He slapped one into charcoal and shoulder blocked the other, driving it against the wall. He slammed the grav-fist twice against its head before it was nothing more than crumbled coals.
"Stop hitting! Hitting is wrong!" he sobbed/yelled.
One tried to get away and he held it, punching at it, even as it scrabbled to get away. He didn't care.
The Lawsec pulled them off the tram, into the rainy street, laughing as they slapped and punched him and the other Telkani.
He blocked a set of jaws with the chain wrapped around his arm and slammed it agianst the wall. The jaw broke off and it crumbled to coals.
The tram drove away.
They ran through the interlock, into the ship. He followed, killing the ones that turned to face him.
They kicked and laughed in the rain, their heavy boots slamming into the two little Telkani's bodies.
They piled into another group.
He charged in, swinging, cursing, bellowing, screaming. He could taste blood, taste copper, feel something inside of him screaming to get out.
The Lawsec left the two boys crumpled on the sidewalk.
More piled in but he didn't care. He could feel their claws raking at the armor. The armor was howling that the kinetic gel was running low, he was going to have armor breaches, integrity was dropping, power was dropping.
He didn't care.
A Telkana came up. Older, like his sister, with glitter on her face. He held his arms out to her, sobs pleading with her to help him. She knelt down next to him, between him and the other Telkani.
He slammed one repeatedly against the wall until it crumbled, then looked around for more.
She patted them down. Took his school-link. Took the other one's. Put them in her pocket.
He heard their screeching further in and roared back, charging toward the screaming. The ants, the pain, the burning licking acid pain, had sunk into his bone marrow, had sunk into his brain. It pumped through his veins with his blood.
She stood up and walked away.
Some were scrabbling at a door, ripping a hole larger while singular ones twisted and writhed through it.
The two Telkani lay on the pavement sobbing in the rain. He got up, wiping away his tears angrily. He held his hand out to the other one. "Get up." The other one reached up and he pulled the other Telkani to his feet.
He hit at a charge, crushing one into coals, the others scattering. He slapped and kicked and punched. One was halfway through the gap and he drove the grav-fist down in a hammerblow into its back. The edge of the gap cut it in half and it fell into coals.
"Naxen. Sunny Meadows Hab, level 68," the other boy said.
He snapped the spike off of one's back and drove it through the head of another.
"Wrixet. Level 52."
The door slowly opened. There were dozens of them inside, all screaming, all lunging forward, all attacking the small group in the corner of the room. The servers beyond the clear macroplas were all lit up, all blinking.
The two boys put their arms around each other's shoulders and staggered into the rainy overcast afternoon.
He could see Imna swinging her cutting bar with both hands, desperately trying to keep the things back.
He screamed at them, charging.
They scattered like pins, tumbling and falling. He kicked and stomped, throwing a fist or a forearm into any that got up. He got next to Imna, clenching his hands together, lifting them over his head, and slamming his clenched fists onto any that close.
The grav-fist sputtered.
His armor retracted the faceplate and was suddenly heavy on his limbs.
He didn't care.
One broke free and tried to run as Imna hacked on the other remaining one.
Wrixet chased it as it bounded toward the far door.
Dozens more poured through another door.
Wrixet backed up, smacking the nearest ones.
Flames enveloped the one that had bounded through the far doorway. It collapsed in a burning heap, pink and white flames consuming it.
Emry was against the wall, his eyes wide.
Wrixet was shoulder to shoulder with Imna, who had lost her shield and was hacking with both hands.
Something looped over the creatures, that were crawling on top of one another in their eagerness to reach the two Telkan.
It bounced twice.
"GRENADE!" Emry yelled.
It beeped, magnetic systems oriented it so it stood on one pointed end. It flashed pink.
A hexagonal barrier appeared.
Flames covered the other side of the barrier.
Wrixet sagged slightly and looked at Imna.
"Where's Naxen?" he asked.
Imna's faceplate opened.
Her face was streaked with tears.
She pointed down, behind them, between them and Emry.
Wrixet turned and looked.
Naxen was on the floor. His guts were spread out. One leg was at least a meter away.
Wrixet went down on his knees, pulling his friend into his lap. He pulled open Naxen's faceshield.
Naxen was staring into eternity, panting, breathing fast, the Bliss carrying him off.
"No, no, no," Wrixet said. "No, don't leave me. Don't leave me, Telk."
Naxen was breathing faster and shallower.
"No, no, no," Wrixet sobbed, tears falling on Naxen's face. "No, please don't leave me."
Imna knelt next to him, putting her hands on his shoulder and resting her helmeted foreheard against his scarred and gouged shoulder pauldron.
Naxen's breath was hitching. Shallow, fast, hitching. His pupils were dilated. His tongue flicked out and wetted his cracked and bleeding lips.
"No, please, don't go. Don't leave me," Wrixet sobbed.
Naxen stopped breathing.
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