1330 Terran Front Fleet Time
On the Turinika homeworld, the first signs of unrest began to manifest like a wave, The broadcast of the most esteemed Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata, Taratanti of the roost Kazatalak, openly performing the act of Kavsa had been met with shock. The last Taratanti who had voluntarily performed Kavsa had done so in protest of the treatment of the Kulorn caste, nearly two thousand years prior. It was an ancient rite, one that signified rejection of the greatest shame. Even more shocking than the act itself was the evidence that had followed it. Visuals of species, brought into the Conclave, not as migrant workers as had been believed, but as slaves, was met with an almost immediate attempt at censorship. This attempt failed spectacularly, mostly due to those who had been tasked to censor the information not only refusing to follow the command, but openly declaring that they had been ordered to do so. A situation that was already, as the humans would say, out of hand, spiraled completely out of control. Within only twenty minutes of the ending of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s broadcast entire cities entered a state of absolute anarchy. Two planetary capitals were stormed and taken by the furious civilian population, demanding the location of those who had been enslaved. The Turinika Armada, which even then was in the middle of a training session meant to prepare the fleet to withstand the Terran Front’s assault, began to cease operations. Within the hour, the entire armada would be recalled to the turnika homeworld. Those who did not take to the streets simply stopped whatever work they were doing and went to their homes to be around their brood. Images of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata with his stripped wings spread wide in front of the human fleet commander were on every news fed of the Conclave, as was the sound of his thunderous voice, and the wails of despair from a turinika female that couldn’t be seen. Close ups of the human fleet commander’s face were shown, with analysts remarking on the shock, horror, and sympathy. Since the outbreak of the Seventh Orion War, the female human known as Simmons had been reported to have made several threats towards the turinika, she had quickly become seen as a warmonger, ready to take revenge against the turinika for refusing to go to war and violate their principles of pacifism. Now the images of her lunging forward to stop the violation of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s plumage, the agonized expression of her face, and the true reason for her threats against the turinika were rapidly reversing her image. On far flung deep core mining stations and agricultural stations, on deep space stations dedicated to material processing, and in other areas hidden from the sight of the normal turinikan population, overseers and taskmasters felt their hearts run cold at the knowledge that very soon, their part to play in the willful enslavement of another species would be known to the wider Conclave. As the data package transmitted alongside the broadcast were fully decompressed and the scale of the Conclave’s government’s involvement was revealed, the entirety of the Conclave itself was teetering on the verge of absolute pandemonium. The image of a member of the kolra species, from the look of it barely a hatchling, quickly was becoming the face of the entire incident. The picture was absolutely damning, and the sight of the image had sent any who saw it instantly into contorting and painful displays of shame. The young kolra was sprawled on it’s stomach, looking to the one taking it’s picture with eyes that had no life in them. It’s shell covered it’s back, and despite the age of the kolra it was already dulled and scuffed. The foot pressing down on the shell was unmistakably familiar to those who saw it, the clawed feet of a turinika. Within the hour, billions of winged figures stood in streets, the normally soft spoken and passive species demanding action, demanding justice, on the hundred worlds of the Turinika Conclave. The bulk of the Taratanti caste, most of whom had been left in the dark of the truth of the situation, quickly went public with their own declaration of outrage, and the eyes of the entire species turned inwards to the mountainous homeworld of their species.
Hakuri Watanabe looked down at his helmet before putting it on his bed, the stylized SEVEN seeming to stare at him. He sat down in his chair and picked up a small cloth from his buffing kit. No one knocked on his door, in fact, mostly he and the rest of his squad were left alone before a major operation. They were just given their time, time to mentally prepare. Some of his squad would go over their mission briefing, some, like him, would spend their time doing something to relax themselves. Hakuri always found that taking care of his suit calmed him considerably. Granted he could simply turn it over to the squads armorers to be tended to and they would do as good of a job as he could, but he preferred it to be done by his own hand. The symbol of a triangle was on his form fitting shirt, the symbol of his special operations command unit. He was known as a Myrmidon, but the official title of his unit was Section Three. He knew this, his superiors knew this, and as far as Hakuri knew, most of the Terran Front was aware of his unit’s existence, but past that, they knew very little about what he actually did. As far as his mother knew, Hakuri was a pencil pusher onboard the TFS Berlin, the troop mothership that all of his letters were sent from. He thought about writing her, but then again, he only liked to do that when he returned from a mission, not when he was expecting to go to one. If he tried to write her when he was waiting, he would just get anxious, and homesick. That wouldn’t do when he was dropping into a combat zone. That wouldn’t do at all. Hakuri instead started to buff his helmet, waiting for the word to come down which meant they were prepared to jump. A glance at the clock made him pause in his circular rotations. The clock said 1330. Operation Naked Sun was about to begin.
Tika was on his side, Kzia standing at the end of the medical bed that had been adjusted for his turinikan physiology. He felt cold in more ways than one. For his people, clothing was more of a decoration than a necessity, but without his protective plumage he felt the cold stabbing him through to his hollow bones. His diplomatic access was already gone, his privilege access revoked. He heard the broadcast for a preparation to jump, but he wasn’t truly listening. There was no question in his mind he had made the right decision. There was no question at all. One of the humans, a nurse, came to his side and gently laid a heavy blanket over him. The human’s hand lingered on his trembling body for a few moments before it was removed, and Tika glanced in their direction. The female was one of the ones who had responded first to the call for medical service for him, had heard what had happened and why. Tika had gotten very used to being glared at on this ship. He was hated, and he knew it. He knew he had deserved it. He was a party to the vral’s enslavement of the humans, the chua, and far too many others. When he had come to Thermopylae station, he had not even given that fact a single thought. He was born into power, being of the Taratanti. He belonged to the most powerful species and government in the entire quadrant of the galaxy. His people, while mighty, did not seek to use it. To him, they had simply been above it all. When the vral had approached him with the offer to sell captured species at first TIka had wanted to reject it out of hand, but a few had told him to go through with the sale. Such was the nature of this galaxy, or so he had believed. The weak were at the whims of the strong, and one’s place in the galaxy was determined only by the power they could wield. The turinika were not nearly the first to have taken a species and used it for slave labor, and while Tika did not approve of the deal, he had not fought it either. As he looked back to the wall, he remembered what the humans had taught him these last days. When he had arrived in Thermopylae he had assumed he would find the chua species to have been at the very least regulated to a subservient role, if not outright enslaved. Finding them sharing power was a curiosity. He had expected to be treated with all the honor and dignity that his station demanded, that the power of his government demanded. Fleet Marshal Simmons had disabused him of that, and had left him humiliated and shamed. As he had laid in the dark as Simmons had declared the Seventh Orion War, covered in his own filth, feeling as if at any moment he was going to be killed he knew true fear and horrific uncertainty for the first time in his life. He had never faced these emotions, these sensations before. He had always been in power. He had stood with the full might of the Turinika Conclave behind him. He had never known anything other than the superior position. Now, as he lay in the hospital bed, staring at the wall, he was ashamed of how arrogant, how blind, and how short sighted he had been. After he had risen from his own filth, he had desperately tried to convince his leadership of the strength of the Terran Front, how it matched or eclipsed their own. The Conclave was not the unchallenged power in the quadrant anymore. The terrans, the human and chua, had somehow defied fate. They had not fallen to the vral after ninety years of near constant conflict, and now if Tika was right they had come out of it nightmarishly stronger than before. Tika had actually begged to be heard by his superiors, and he had never come close to that once in his life. The chua homeworld however, had fully broken him. If he had not been on the Antares, had not been humbled beforehand, he knew that he would have just clapped his hands together and said that it was delightful. As the transmission from the chua homeworld had come in, and the rescue effort had begun, he could only wallow in his own shame. He had profited directly from the chua’s suffering, the human’s suffering. Again he had tried, and failed, to convince his people, and again he had failed. Being on the Antares, for him, was torture. The lights were too dim, every human and chua looked at him with nothing more than loathing and contempt, his entire worldview had been shattered from the way he viewed the galaxy to his own place in it. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the shadow of Simmons standing over him, her voice cold with a lethal rage, hearing her voice echo in his mind, seeing the glint from flashes of light shining in her eyes. ‘We Know.’ echoed in his mind in his sleep, the voice of the terrifying Fleet Marshal transforming into the sound of a vengeful god demanding compliance and promising retribution. Then he had watched the humans and chua, who he knew were preparing to go to war with his people, celebrating the return of the shesvie. Once more he had expected them to be integrated into the Terran Front, but as soon as he learned Simmons offer to them, and what it had entailed, he had been called to his room to answer the latest message from his people. Once again, his people had doubled down, the knowledge of the enslavement of the humans had been suppressed, and once more Tika found himself, and his people, standing against a Terran Front that had every justification to declare war, to right the wrongs that had been done to them. All the while, he knew something else. He knew that, after everything he had seen, that his people would lose. The turinika had not been to war for nearly two thousand years. His people were not ready for what the Terran Front could do, and after seeing what they had done to the vral so far, he knew his people were not ready for what the Terran Front would do. He was afraid of the dark. Tika was absolutely terrified of it now, because now he knew the monsters were real. Simmons had shown him that, but the humans, the chua, they were not the monsters. He was. He had refused to be one any more. He had announced his intentions to his staff, who had squalled in rejection, all but three. Kzia was the first to step to his side, Kikumot and Tziki had stepped forward as well. Never, in his most nightmarish dreams, did he ever think that he would stand in front of Simmons and voluntarily have his plumage stripped from him, performing the act of Kasva. He never thought that his staff would have ever compiled and transmitted the data package they had sent. He had never thought that he would betray his people, if only to save them. Simmons had changed that, the humans had changed that. He knew the terror of the dark, he knew fear for his people’s safety, he understood the horror of war, and for the first time in his long life he could truly look back at every interaction he had had, with every species, that had asked for help in their struggle for survival against the vral and truly understand their fear and desperation. Now he lay, his plumage stripped from him, his station revoked, his status removed, surrounded by a people who despised him. He wouldn’t have it any other way now. He knew that they would listen now, if not to him, then to the civilian masses of the Conclave that would not stand for what they had done. He prayed to the Great Mother often now, shivering in the dim light, hoping that it would be enough. He had been wrong, and in his error he had sullied his own people. He had made them complicit. Even now, he did not know how they would ever be forgiven, because right now he wasn’t quite sure he could ever forgive himself. As he heard the broadcast calling out on the ship, announcing one minute to jump, he felt a hand on his side, and looked up to the human nurse. She was smiling at him. Not a smile born of malice, or anger, but a genuine smile. She patted his side lightly, then turned to walk out of the room. For not even the twentieth time since he had come onboard Thermopylae, he was mystified by these people.
The bridge of the Dhampir was thrumming with music and the vibrations of the reactor and Conrad leaned forward in his chair mount, his eyes almost feral as he looked at the empty space that was the mandeville point. He was positively chomping at the bit. Batz was positively roaring the lyrics to the song that was blaring over the ships speakers. Rev and Dev sat side by side in their mounts, throwing their hands up in time with the pounding bass beat of the sound. Towns was the only one besides Conrad that was quiet, both of them looking towards the mandeville point with complete impatience. Conrad felt like jumping from his skin. Fidget, well, fidgetted, holding his hands over his headset and listening as if he were trying to hear secret messages in the music. They were ready, their pulses were racing. The crew of the Dhampir was positively vibrating. Conrad looked to the shipboard clock, seeing 1330 displayed, and his head snapped to Fidget, waiting for the word. They were going to run, they were going to chase, they were going to hunt.
Vicky sat back, looking towards Jess and Kukat as they slept. Jess was in her chair, Kukat in her medical bed. Vicky glanced back at the block print on the paper and read it for the fifth time. She read the individual lines, one at a time, cursing their existence. After reading through the message printed she let her hand hang again. Kukat would be released from medical tomorrow, and both her and Jess still thought they would be boarding the Thumper to join the Vellacore once more. Jess had talked non-stop about her quarters on the Vellacore the past few days, how she just wanted to be back in her room. Kukat was equally excited. Only Vicky didn’t share their excitement. They didn’t know yet. They didn’t know about their battlefield promotions, they didn’t know about their reassignments, they didn’t know the days of them working together were functionally over. Vicky looked down at her hand holding the paper again, and felt like crumpling it. She had lost her crew. She had lost them not due to negligence, or time, she had lost them to fame. Kukat was to be promoted to ensign, and was to be the sensor officer on the destroyer Hadrian, Jess was getting the same promotion, her station on the cruiser Victorious. Vicky? She was the sparkling new commanding officer of a destroyer that was arriving at Thermopylae in two days, the Quarrel. She never wanted this. She had turned down promotion after promotion that would take her from the cockpit of the Thumper, away from Kukat, away from Jess. She wanted to serve in this war in her own way, as a pilot, with the two who had made her life so enjoyable. Now though, they were to be split up, and there was nothing she could do about it. These promotions hadn’t come from simple seniority, they had come from High Command, as had the orders. Tomorrow, when Kukat was released, they would be ushered into the hanger bay of the Barrowmore. They would all three be awarded the Star of Terra, then they would be reassigned. Tonight was the last night they would all be together. Vicky wanted to wake them up, she wanted to tell them, to give them a chance to process it. As she looked to Kukat and Jess she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She held up the letter again, reading the first few lines, then she felt the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. She looked away, her heart panging with sadness, and stared at the wall. The clock read 1330.
Corporal Brandy was sitting on the small rack, with Janet Shippen sitting between his legs using his thighs as armrests. They were both dressed for the first time in the last few hours, both of them staring at the clock. This close to the reactors they could feel them beginning to spool up for the trip through hyperspace. When the news of the operation had come down they had elected to spend as much time together as possible, which Brandy had enjoyed to no end, and he had made sure Janet had as well. Brandy had even taken some time to reach out to his sister Victoria, a rarity for them both, as since they were children they were often barely able to speak to each other simply due to schedules. He had even told her about Janet, and although he hadn’t gotten a response from his sister yet he already knew what she would say. Janet nestled back against him, but he could feel her body was stiff. Neither of them knew what the next few months were going to hold. Their time together might be constricted, in fact, this might be the last few moments they were together for quite awhile. Brandy’s Ghouls were specialists, ship boarders. Chances are he was going to be extremely busy, as was she. He didn’t quite know how he felt about Janet, but he did know that beyond a shadow of a doubt he didn’t want to be away from her. Judging from how she was acting, she felt the same as him, conflicted about her relationship with him, but not wanting to be apart. He knew what he needed to tell her, that he had to get up, that he had to leave. The Ghouls were going to be assembled at 1345, ready to board. Her unit was going to be prepared at the same time, to begin taking on salvage. Her hands were like clamps on his legs, and from how tense she was, he wasn’t going to get up until she was good and ready. The clock on the wall switched to 1330. He stared at the clock, feeling like the clock was mocking him, when suddenly Janet leaned up and turned. Her hands took hold of his shoulders and she threw her body against his, her lips finding his own. Her arms wrapped around her frame and he tightened his grasp on her.
Simmons spread her hands over the panel in front of her, looking at the table. Seven points connected the recently reclaimed chua space to what was former Shesvie territory, and beyond that, the heart of the Vral Empire. Her lip curled in a wicked smile, On the digital display of the table the hyperspace lanes, and more importantly, the avenues of attack her fleet was preparing to take. She held out her hand, all five fingers splayed over the lanes, envisioning the war as it stood now. The war to come. Seven hyperspace lanes, seven systems, branching out into sixteen, branching out again to another twenty. The Antares herself was going to link up with the Barraki, and was set to simply plough through the next five systems to do so. Slowly she tightened her hand into a fist as she looked along the hyperspace lanes, seeing task forces lined up and ready to jump. Drones had already been sent through. The vral had forces along the border, but nothing that could withstand what was to come. Her fleet was ready. She was ready. The Seventh Orion War was at the end of it’s first month, and had taken back six systems. The first moves of Operation Naked Sun would double that and exceed it, then double it again. She had already given her speech, her task force commanders were ready. High Command had taken it’s time making this decision, and while she had railed against the delay that didn’t matter now. All along the front, individual task forces were joined into larger fleets, ready to jump into the next system and eliminate any vral defenses, but unlike now, they simply would not wait. Naked Sun was to be a lightning strike to cut off as much of the Vral Empire as possible, to deny them their own space, to imprison them on their own worlds. Task Forces were designed around three types of vessels combinations, Lighthammer Task Forces were comprised of corvettes and fast destroyers, the fastest vessels in the fleet, meant to take systems quickly, to devastate unprotected infrastructure, and to eliminate light resistance. Simply put, they were going to swarm into vral space, determine pockets of resistance, and move on. They were going to rip entire sections of vral space from them, calling in other task groups if needed. Thunder task groups were the primary capital fleets, meant to be sent into those pockets of resistance, and neutralizing them, joining with the Lighthammer groups if needed. The cruisers, carriers, battleships, they all belonged to these task forces. Her own task force was called the Nova task force, and it comprised only the Antares and it’s sizable fleet escort. Simmons glanced up at the clock, the time was 1329. She breathed in slowly, then unbidden the thought came to her head and she looked to the report from the two habitable planets that had been scanned by the drone cutters, the information having been relayed to her almost twenty minutes prior. She was not worried about the ground campaign, in fact a reserve fleet from Thermopylae would be the ones to escort the landing ships from planet to planet that her fleet left behind in it’s wake, isolated and defenseless from the wider Vral Empire. Fleet escorting was no longer her job, protecting ground invasions were no longer her job. Simmons was positively growling now, as her only job was to take her fleet and use it to rip the vral out of the stars. Still, the thought nagged at her. On both of the planets that her fleet was set to overrun, there were Vral ships in orbit. On the first, there was evidence that the Vral had been bombarding a small area of the surface, extremely similar in size to the hole that now existed on Zvitia, the planet that even now was being integrated into the Terran Front. In the second system it showed Vral ships in orbit, but whatever they were doing during the time they had taken the scans, whatever they were covering up, they didn’t seem to have gotten to it yet. On the radiological scan of the planet a massive bloom of electromagnetic energy painted a broad region of the planet blistering white. She had sent the images back to Earth, back to High Command, but no one seemed to know what was happening. The one thing that every analyst agreed on so far that was that whatever the blooms represented, it meant nothing good. She took another long look at the radiological scan, seeing the intensity of the radiation, and her lip curled in a snarl. She couldn’t think about that right now, but orders had already been given to notify her the moment that they had taken a planet that still bore the radiation signal. The vral were being damned fastidious about it though. She pulled her thoughts away from it, looking back to the hyperspace lanes. The slow grin entered her features again. She glanced at the clock. 1330. Her hand took hold of the receiver next to her station and she pressed the transmission stud, knowing that Hazard had already opened a channel to the wider fleet.
“Commence.”

The original "The Fast and the Furious" released in 2001, contains a biblical subplot. This isn't as farfetched as it seems, considering that this film was re-written before its release by David Ayer, who is considered "...one of the five most prominent Christians in Hollywood." The original screenplay was written by Gary Scott Thompson. His vision for the film was for an all Italian cast racing through the streets of New York City. David Ayer, rendered some rewrites that made the film what has become these 20-something years later. One of his changes sets the film in Los Angeles instead of New York. Scripturally, angels are messengers and there surely is a message in this film, which is a re-telling of Revelation 13 using the analogy of cars and street racing.
To sum up the message of Revelation 13 is this: The Roman Catholic Church represented by "the sea beast" (Revelation 13:1) unites with America represented by "the earth beast" (Revelation 13:11) to issue the Mark of the Beast (Revelation 13:16-18). Scripture supplies the most in-depth literature known to man and this film has become a pop-culture gem because of it. Let's look at some of the symbolism.
Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) is an allegory of the Roman Catholic Church. The name Dominic is derived from the Latin Dominicus and is a name given to boys born on Sunday. It is the root word for "Domingo" which is Spanish for Sunday. Contrary to the 7th Day Sabbath of the 4th commandment (Exodus 20:8), Catholics instituted their own day of worship, which is Sunday. Priest Brady, in an address, reported in the Elizabeth, NJ ‘News’ on March 18, 1903, stated, "It is well to remind the Presbyterians, Baptists, Methodists, and all other Christians, that the Bible does not support them anywhere in their observance of Sunday. Sunday is an institution of the Roman Catholic Church, and those who observe the day observe a commandment of the Catholic Church." Their are many pontifical orders in the Catholic Church and one of them is the "Dom-inican" Order. Pope Pius V was of the Dominican Order and he instituted the Inquisition. The Dominican monks are known for brewing beer and in the movie, Dom is constantly advertising "Corona Beer." Dominic Toretto drives a 1993 Mazda RX-7 FD. At the core of this car is a turbocharged Wankel motor, driven by rotors instead of pistons. The rotors are Releaux triangles and were prominent features on gothic style Catholic Churches. The Releaux triangle is also the basic shape for the triquetra which a symbol for the Trinity. The Trinity is never mentioned in Scripture as a name for God which is important. The Trinity is a Catholic invention. The Roman Catholic Church is named as such because it absorbed practices and traditions from the Roman Empire. It was Constantine that issued the first Sunday Law; an attempt to make Sunday holy. They used to hold races in the Coliseum to honor the Roman trinity known as the Captoline Triad or the Archaic Triad. The name Trinity was coined by Tertullian, a staunch Romanist. This is why Dominic uses three Honda Civics to pull of the heists, because Trinitarians believe the Holy Spirit is another being form that sits on the Throne of God; three on the throne. In reality, there are only two being forms, the Father and the Son, on the throne, with their Spirit being inherently there. Dominic's RX-7 has a Veilside body kit. The "veil" (Hebrews 10:20) is symbolic of Jesus Christ and the pope believes that He is an additional incarnation of Christ. In the beginning of Fast X, Dominic is portrayed as a defender of the Vatican and St. Peters. Dominic Toretto is the Roman Catholic Church.
Brian Spilner [O'Conner] (Paul Walker) is an allegory of American Protestantism. The name Brian means "noble" and nobility is defined as having "high morals standards and ideals." Brian is also a police officer or a keeper of the law. America was established as a Protestant Christian nation with the intent of upholding the Law of God. Most Protestants today have forsaken the Sabbath command and uphold the Catholic Sunday. Brian is also on the "wine of Babylon" and is seen drinking and distributing alcohol throughout the film. Protestant denominations now also believe in the Trinity, significantly compromising the strength of the Protest. Is this reflected in Brian's ride? Yes. Brian drives a 1995 Mitsubishi Eclipse. The Mitsubishi symbol is a trinity of diamonds or rhombuses. At the heart of the Eclipse is a PentaStar 4G63 built by Chrysler. Chrysler secured a $75 million war contract to aid in producing J. Robert Oppenheimers "Little Boy"; the atomic bomb dropped on, of all places, Japan. The codename for the first atomic bomb test was "Trinity", named for the Catholic triune god. The American symbolism for Brian's car doesn't stop there. The American rebadged version of the Mitsubishi Eclipse, is the Eagle Talon. There is also an abstract blue and white eagle on the side of Brian's car; the eagle being a prominent symbol for America. Brian's surname "O'Connor" is of Irish origin. Catholics have slandered the name of St. Patrick claiming that he used the shamrock to preach the Trinity, but in reality he was vehemently against, or protested, the Catholic doctrine or the Trinity. Revelation 13:11 says that America sprang up like a Lamb (a symbol of Jesus Christ) but began to speak as a dragon (a symbol for Satan.) This denotes compromise. Brian is seen sitting with Dominic many times drinking alcohol, a sure fire way to lower your inhibitions and compromise your integrity. Brian has illicit relations with Mia, Dominic's sister [who openly displays her devotion to the Catholic Church in the film], which seals his compromise. Brian then ends up lying to his superiors after sleeping with Dom's sister. Brian is an Apostate (Lawless) Protestant Church.
Brian loses his car to Dom in a street race, which transfers ownership of the American-powered Eclipse to Dominic. Eventually, America will be owned by the Roman Catholic Church and will "build an image to the beast" and issue the Mark of the Beast on their behalf. The Eclipse is destroyed. Is not America in such a a state of declension, that the calling of a moral leader seems like the only way to save this country? Remember, Pope Francis came to America in 2015 and addressed not only the nation from the White House, but also an active session of Congress. We are a constitutionally church and state separate nation. What was the Pope doing there? Dom and Brian start working on another car to replace the destroyed Eclipse; a 1994 Toyota Supra. Before 1990, there was no official symbol for Toyota. On October 2, 1989, the official logo was released. The symbol is a "T" comprised of a trinity of ellipses. The code name for a 1994-1998 Supra is the Mark IV(4). So the Toyota Supra contains as mark and a trinity.
So what is the Mark of the Beast? Sunday observance and worship enforced by law. Dominic's name associates him with Sunday and Brian, being a police officer, associates him with the law. When they united to build the Supra together, it symbolized a National Sunday Law aka The Mark of the Beast. Their union also is symbolic of the formation of church and state in America: the "image to the beast." By the way, all graphics for the cars in the film were supplied by "Modern Image." When this forms, we are in "Barney Rubble Trouble." We are a country built on ecclesiastical liberty, but when a Sunday Law is put into motion, those who accept the law, will lose their "Liberty of Conscience." No good. This is why when Pope Francis addressed an active session of Congress, where we pass laws, was not a good sign. In fact, Pope Francis chose a Fiat 500 to ride in when he came to America. The word "fiat" translates to "law." This was not a coincidence.
How does this movie end? After one final race, Dominic flips his car, receiving a "deadly wound" (Revelation 13:3). Dominic (the pope, the outlaw) is not captured and brought up on charges as he should. Instead, Brian (America, the law, the Image to the Beast) hands over the keys to the Supra, giving Dominic complete power and ownership. Scripture says that the Roman Catholic Church will come to an end and that God's true people need to "come out of her...lest ye be partakers of her plagues..."
The promotion of Sunday, the exaltation of the Trinity, the apocalyptic formation of the Image of the Beast (Church and State) and the fraudulent retelling of prophecy is all contained in a little movie about street racing released almost 23 years ago. The sequels, attractions, and merchandise have never ceased to roll off the assembly line. Sequels that point to Dominic as a Catholic Champion. Even in "The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift", the first song to play is "Six Days" by DJ Shadow. [Refer to Exodus -11] This song puts Monday as the first day of the week making Sunday the Seventh Day, giving Sunday the appearance that it is the Sabbath of the Lord. Yes. The Fast and the Furious is arrayed against the Law of God. The sobering fact is, Revelation 13 is already being played out right in front of our eyes. This film, which could arguably be called "The Last Great Film Before 9/11", portrayed the various steps and phases that America, nay the world, was about to go through, with the audience unaware. Sadly, Paul Walker has passed, but the message lives on today, with the OG Fast and Furious still being the greatest effort in the series.
Thank you for your time and consideration. 🙏🏾🙏🏽
Please watch the video Swift to Mischief: A Prophetic Exposition of "The Fast and the Furious" for greater detail.

I am NOT the Original Poster. That is u/JazzlikeOriginal358. They posted in AmItheAsshole
Trigger Warning: discussions of transphobia
Mood Spoiler: moving in a positive direction
Original Post: March 22, 2024
I'm having a bit of family drama and need a reality check about if I am being unreasonable here. I really need the perspective of LGBT+ sensitive individuals because the drama surrounds transphobia perpetrated by JK Rowling.
My step daughter is going through a pretty tough time. The last couple years have been really rough on her. She has been dealing with bullying at school, being held back a year, not getting along with her mom's new husband, self harm and identity issues. Lots of questioning of her sexuality and gender. (We have been working on getting her a good mental health team of doctors and therapists to help her navigate all of this, please know we aren't throwing her to the wolves or internet to deal with it all herself).
I've been in her life since she was 7. We've always had a pretty good, though not terribly close, relationship. I have not taken on a parental role, but have always tried to make myself available for her.
Until last year, her mom had primary custody and her dad had weekends with alternating holidays. Last year due to the issues with her school and mom's house, my stepdaughter requested that custody arrangements be changed.
Since she came to live with my husband and I full time, there has been quite a bit of friction between the two of us. One of the biggest points of contention is my Harry Potter fandom, particularly "The Bookcase", and my supposed transphobia (due to my apparently "wrong" stance when it comes to the politics regarding trans issues in our country)
I grew up in the hayday. So many of my childhood and teen memories are tied to the franchise. My friends and I were all really into it. We attend midnight book releases, dressed up in costume for movie releases, threw HP themed parties when we wanted to hang out, etc. In many ways it shaped the course of my entire life, those same friends and I joined our high school's botany club because herbology. That unlocked a lifelong passion of mine and my career is working with plants.
Over the years I've collected quite a bit of memorabilia, many of which are gifts, and they have always been displayed on my most prized possession. A monstrously large custom bookcase my grandfather, a former woodworker, built for me when I was a teenager. I love this thing. The shelves are live edge black walnut slabs. All around the casing my grandpa carved beautiful HP themed imagery. Owls, cauldrons, shooting stars, lightning bolts, an adorable little rat at the bottom and nibble marks from said rat, etc. It's both sentimental and valuable (the slabs of walnut for the shelves alone would be pushing a grand, let alone attempting to value the hand carved craftmanship). The bookcase has always been proudly displayed in my home. It currently lives in our living room.
During one of our family therapy sessions, my stepdaughter expressed that seeing my HP shelf made her feel really uncomfortable because of the author and that she was really disappointed in me and her father for being so supportive of a biggot. I apologized for making her feel uncomfortable in her own home, and said that I would take down the HP stuff.
So I packed up all the HP themed merch off the shelves. Made sure I didn't have the books or anything on display that said "Harry Potter" anywhere. I bought some LED grow lights and converted the bookcase into a plant shelf to display succulents. I bought some witchy, but not overtly harry potter, themed pots for the little guys so they'd go with the shelf.
This was not an acceptable compromise for my stepdaughter and has remained a point of contention. With my stepdaughter hurling that I/we (referring to my husband) broke a promise by saying we would get rid of the Harry Potter stuff. I tried to explain to my stepdaughter that, while I do not agree with JK Rowling's political stance at all, the media has a special place in my heart because of my childhood association with it and that the shelf was very important to me because it was a gift from my grandpa, but she maintains that none of that should matter because in 2024 it is nothing but a symbol of transphobia and hate.
At first my husband was supportive of me and my desire to keep my bookcase, but lately the arguments are wearing on him and he asked me if I would reconsider keeping it in the living room. Suggesting we rent a storage unit to house it in.
After the most recent blow up about it, I kinda lost my temper. I didn't yell or anything, but I did very firmly tell my stepdaughter that this is my home and my bookshelf stays. If it is such a big problem for her, she can always go back to live with her mother.
I knew it was a low blow pretty much as soon as I said it. I quickly apologized but it was out there. My stepdaughter has been on an emotional downward spiral.
My husband and I have been arguing almost nonstop. I think it is mostly stress because he is at his wits end with how to help his daughter but he is becoming pretty mean and nasty towards me. Telling me to "grow up and just get rid of the fucking bookcase"
I know I was a dick for saying my stepdaughter could always go back to live with her mom (and I suspect that will be the main topic at hand in our next family therapy session).
But am I really being unreasonable in wanting to keep my beloved bookcase?
EDIT: Thank you everyone. Honestly. Thank you for those who shared their insight and advice and thank you to the people who have asked me hard questions that made me think. Especially those who asked what matters more, a bookcase or a/my child?
I've been reflecting really hard on what my bookcase means to me an why it is so important. I'm hitting some deep truths I don't think I was ready to recognize about how I really feel about my relationship with my step daughter.
All in all I think we just need to shelf things until our next therapy session. (I'll see myself out...)
Relevant Comments:
Commenter: Can you temporarily put it in storage until she’s off to college, then take it back out? That way it will be safe, and everyone can take a deep breath and calm down a little.

OOP: I looked into storage units when my husband suggested it, for the size and climate/humidity control we would need it would cost us approximately $7,500 to store my shelf until she goes to college.
It's cost prohibitive.

Commenter: Why can't you just move the bookcase into the primary bedroom?

OOP: It's 7' x 4' x 1', made of solid wood, and we have a L shaped stair case.
The only way it is going upstairs is if it is completely dismantled and rebuilt. I don't have the skills, knowledge or tools to do that and hiring out a task like that is cost prohibitive especially because it would have to be done again when moving the bookcase back out.

Commenter: NTA. You need to put that bookcase in a room with locks, because your husband is going sell it or damage it.

OOP: My husband isn't an emotionally unstable monster. I don't believe he would ever do anything like that to me. I wouldn't have married him if he was that kind of person.
(to another commenter): I have absolutely zero concern about my husband doing anything to it. He isn't that kind of person. He is incredibly stressed out about all of this and has said shitty things in anger but this isn't some tv show where he and my stepdaughter are going to have daddy and daughter bonding time with a sledge hammer.

Commenter: I think he was just frustrated and worried about his daughter. Hopefully you can talk it out with him and he will apologize for the "grow up" comment.

OOP: That is my impression in regards to him too.
I can't imagine how hard it must be to see your child suffering and not being able to fix that pain.
I've been doing my best to give him grace due to the circumstances.
It is something we will address when he has the spoons to do so.

Commenter: One question: who owns or rents the house you are living in? If it is yours you can suggest that your husband move out and get a place of his own to his daughter liking

OOP: My husband and I purchased it together. We are both on the mortgage.

Commenter: Then time to figure out who stays, who goes, and how the equity...if any...is split.

OOP: I don't intend to divorce my husband and throw away a decade plus long relationship because he said one shitty thing to me during a period of great stress for him.

Commenter: If he destroys the bookcase to show solidarity with his daughter, what will you do?

OOP: Have him pink slipped.
That is not the action of a reasonable adult. I would be very concerned for his mental state.

Commenter: I wonder if she made similar unreasonable demands in her mother’s home or at school that lead you to the conflict there?

OOP: Part of the issues with her homelife with her mother involved my step daughter demanding that her mother choose between her now husband and her because mom's husband's political views.
So, this isn't exactly left field behavior.

Commenter: Your stepdaughter needs a massive reality check and probably different therapists.

OOP: oof. We are on our 5th

More on therapy:

Yes. She meets with a psychiatrist as well as her therapists.
(to a different commenter) We are in family counseling already. Couple's counseling is likely to happen if there isn't a resolution to this current bookcase issue in the very near future.

Commenter: Info needed: what is your ‘wrong stance’ when it comes to trans issues?

OOP: I'm kinda middle of the road when it comes to the trans political issues, and mostly take the stance of "I don't know, I have my own feelings about the issues but as it is not my area of expertise I am not beholden to them and I will leave these big problems up to the people who have made learning about them their focus of study"
Like, I get my feathers ruffled when medically uneducated politicians try to interfere with any kind of health care. Like seriously ruffled.
I believe that people facing gender identity issues should have free and easy access to health care and therapy to navigate those issues.
I believe that society in general should strive to use preferred pronouns if only as a matter of politeness.
But when it comes to things like trans people in sports or having afab only "safe spaces" - I see both sides of the argument and refer back to my "I think this should be left up to the people who focus on this and not form a super strong opinion either way based on my lay opinion"

OOP is voted NTA
Update Post: May 12, 2024 (1.5 months later)
Some one asked if I could update this situation, and I'll try my best to summarize the past several weeks.
My husband and I spoke about the situation. He apologized for being snappish with me, and agreed that SD was being unreasonable about the bookcase. He ultimately agreed to back me about it. He and I are just as tight as we ever have been.
I once again apologized to my SD for the remark I said out of frustration about her moving back with her mom. I reiterated that our home is her home too and she is always welcome here. That even though families sometimes fight and disagree we ARE family.
But the general argument about HP, JK Rowling, and my bookcase continued to escalate for a couple weeks. And then the discontent about that started to bleed over into complaints about me. She started to be more disrespectful and sarcastic.
During all of this we were still attending our family therapy sessions. Our therapist was pretty certain that the misbehavior was anxiety related and didn't suggest that we give in to the demands to have the bookcase removed and wanted to just keep working on the things we all have been.
Well, SD's disrespectful attitude hit a climax. She called me the c word and some other choice things within my husband's ear shot. My husband honestly kinda lost it on her. I don't think I have EVER seen him that angry before. He was bright red and vein popping angry as he marched her to her room and declared "YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO MY WIFE IN SUCH A WAY".
This was probably the first time my SD had ever seen her dad angry, let alone anger directed at her. It left her pretty shook. Like that was her rock bottom. We ended up needing to do a couple emergency session with her counselor because there was concern about her relapsing with some self-destructive issues she has been working on.
But that incident lead to us having a break through. Her counselor invited my husband and I into one of her sessions, and she had a bit of a break down. Basically she was dealing with a lot of existential dread and a lot of fear due to politics and it being an election year.
That ended up being an excellent opening for us to bond. This is gonna sound silly but I was able to pull up my social media timelines back from 2016 and I showed her some of the things I had written or had shared with me back then.
She was able to see that I shared a lot of the same fears that she has.
So we have all had some really big talks about things like feeling helpless when things are out of your control, about disengaging from the media machine for your own mental health, etc.
Things have been on the upswing since then. Before she left for her mom's this past weekend she even gave me a mother's day gift. An adorable little planter that says Caution: Mandrakes.
I love it. I put one of my favorite props in it and it is front and center on the bookcase now.
Relevant Comments:
To a downvoted commenter:

your continued support of JK Rowling through fandom will likely be an issue for other LGBT people in your life

The only other LGBT person in my life sent me bertie botts every flavor beans in my christmas package this past year...
Commenter: This poor girl is terrified of being kicked out from another set of abusive parents and is forcing herself to buy merchandise to support someone who wants her dead to make her stepparent happy. This update is horrifying, for real.

OOP: Hope you stretched before this reach.
SD was not kicked out of her mom's home. That was a choice she made. She is in no danger of being kicked out of our home either.

Royal Road here: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/80877/nop-atalors-fate
Discord Tag: notafurrylad
It's been a while, huh?

First Last Next
Memory transcription subject: Yivreen, Cyonian Survivor
Date [standardized human time]: February 22nd, 2134
The flash daymares hadn’t stopped. Four nights since they’d set in, and now those two fire and brimstone eyes were lingering, waiting to come out when I was asleep. I’d thought that first daymare had been a fluke. It’d felt real, getting chomped up like that, crushed. But... ah.
I’d had more. Once I was in the mouth of that Arxur who’d kicked down the tree. Then I was in the cages with Hens Jr and Sr, and Alma... And each time if there was time for it that swampheaded, red eyed, smokey Arxur would come on in. Try and guilt me like I’d done something wrong.
It was working.
“Yiv. Yiv! I think I got it!” I blinked, my stupor broken by Junior. The kid had been a good help with the computer system since we’d let him fiddle with it instead of me. Much to my... begrudging admission: he was better at it. So, I stood from the chair and headed over to him. The monitor and console were lit up good as new, but they’d been like that for a couple nights now. We’d finally got access to a local map when that’d happened. Or rather a map of the surrounding area, outdated as it was it still had the location of the city on it. It wasn’t like anything had significantly changed in the past hundreds of years since this place had been abandoned. It had been the whole ‘trying to page it into the rest of the old systems at the outpost’ part that’d eluded Juniors little pet project.
“What did you get?” I replied, leaning over his shoulder with a paw on the console while he typed at it.
He cleared his throat. “W-well. I was able to find the wire that’d been causing the problem with the connection to the outpost’s server.” A server? What?
“What do you mean a server? I thought the only computer systems in here were in this room?” He turned his head, a brown eye winking at me. “Nuh-uh! Were you even listening when I explained it earlier? It’s more than just a weather monitoring station. It had a server, otherwise why would it need so many type-v connectors. See?” He pointed a claw to the bundle of wiring running up the wall and into a concrete hole that looked to lead to the next floor above us. Probably. I hadn’t really cared about how many wires there were.
“So... there’s more than just the databanks here in this room?” I asked. My eyes were tasked with looking over the monitor with pursed lips. I’d dug through some ye olde outpost files in the past nights for my journalist program but evidently I’d been missing things if all it took was one kid who had a knack for tech to ascertain there was more to these places.
Before my question could be answered though the command lines and startup protocols on the operating system for the thing had popped by and opened up onto a familiar desktop of our more modern tech. Junior went about clicking immediately to some command line and writing in some jibberish... And- my eyes widened. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing my claw to all the commands on his little black background’d screen.

1: Status
2: Logs
3: Garage Door
4: Barrack Override
5: Communications

Were among the top five, with a half dozen more I didn’t quite have time to think on. “Quick- quick! The uh- There’s a garage?” Don’t get distracted Yivreen. Ahhh moss-heaps.. “The Barrack Override. See what that does.”
The boy swatted away my paw trying to push at it. “Calm down! Calm down jeez, fine!” He jammed his digit into the corresponding number and pressed enter. A few moments passed as it simply displayed three dots. I waited... I waited.. Cmoooo-
Clank. VV-vv-vvv-veeeeeee....
It sounded like something behind the wall to our left was trying to unrust itself and move. A couple hundred years of not moving or being maintained had probably ensured it’d never get moving smooth again. Then of course the universe proved me wrong, and the wall actually shifted. The rounded metal slab I’d taken for a part of the tower’s superstructure began to lower, and behind it... “Holy shit.”
I don’t know where the extreme language had come from but... Wow. My eyes lit. Bunks. Bedding. Lockers.. It looked like the room beyond had been some sort of lodging area for soldiery when this place was built. But there’d been a grow-in on the back wall from a massive root. Snaring part of the room in its gripping-vinelike vice grip. The root was long dead, and the hole it’d bored through the concrete had left the inside exposed to the elements a touch more than if it’d just been left... At least there wasn’t much evidence of water damage.
“Yiv? Are you-” But I was already headed through the way, a paw on my pistol as I glanced around the abandoned room. My mind went right to checking out the lockers, which turned out to be a good idea. My little training sessions into understanding the named bits for guns with Alma were about to start paying off.
“We’ve got guns. Or... Something like guns.” I announced, pulling out the carrying case and flipping it open. Inside I found what looked to be a.. Hrm- no magazine, no bullets... I lifted it up, the rifle-like hardened carbon material was in remarkably good shape. Probably due to the case and materials, but something was different about it. I glanced my eyes over it, noting the electronic aiming system on top which... when I clicked at it offered a red circle for looking through the little scope with. Huh. Not a common thing to find on a Cyonian designed weapon, at least not these nights. This place was old, but this weapon looked like it’d been built by something more ambitious than Federation paws. Federation handhelds were all modified from the same combustion based lead belchers. A fact that rarely ever went unspoken on our own networks when we needed a reason to criticize Aafa.
It took a while longer, but eventually I did find a snap-button on the back of the trigger grip that made something inside it hum to life. My eyes widened. “It’s... An energy weapon.” I murmured. My tail flicking in apprehension. Would it even still fire? The red blinking just below the button told me it must have no power perhaps but... “Hey. Junior. You think you could figure out how to charge one of these guys-?”
I turned my head to see the kid standing at the threshold with his tail in his paws, gripping them anxiously. “Yiv. The uh. The communications aren’t working, but I think the garage door might open if we try it. It could be that cropping of wall and sealed door we figured the old power system must have been housed in right?” He glanced to the rifle in my paws. “I mean, if it uses the same standards as the computer out here it should still be compatible with our stuff. But- we don’t have anything to charge power packs of that size.” He pointed to the fixture sticking out the bottom of the stock. Hrm, he was right.
“See if you can’t get the garage open. I’ll keep looking in here and see if there’s something to help with that.” Came my own voice, I felt... Giddy. Alive. The potential to fight back was intoxicating. Before all I’d had was this dinky pistol I’d used to... kill a couple of the greys. But if we could bring the fight to their patrols, save more people-
I shook my head. Why was I thinking like this? I couldn’t stand up to an invasion fleet. I’d been a frightened Sivkit on the first night of the attack. I- I’d stampeded. I couldn’t remember any of it, but the chance I’d trampled someone in my panic was not zero. I might have contributed to someone being crushed... I’d failed Els, that soldier I’d dragged into the house. Obelisk I couldn’t even keep my mind straight in a fight with those howling, laughing Arxur in my head. The campfire fight had been a fluke!
I didn’t quite know how long I just sat there, staring at the rifle beating myself up, but eventually I was shaken from it by Keick when she sat beside me, an arm on my shoulder. “Hey. I heard you and Junior had a bit breakthrough eh?” She said non-chalantly. I could tell though, even with the chipper tone she’d read me. The accountant knew I’d been in one of my little moods. She’d known me the longest of anyone here, everyone else was like... a pack of convenience? Maybe not Junior. Keick and I had survived the woods together. I’d pulled her from her own hells next to that burning car.
“Hey.” I returned back. “Yeah. Junior got the servers working. Or something like that.” I pointed a claw over at the computer, only to notice he was gone now. I blinked. Had I been out of it that long?
Keick filled in the hole in my head. “He went with his old man to go check out the garage.” Oh. Yeah.
I looked around, “Ah. The guns. We have guns now. Real guns.” I explained, holding the one I had in my paws up for her to inspect.
“Doesn’t look like any gun I’ve seen.” She mused back, taking it from my grip. My body was moving on its own now, rummaging deeper into the lockers. Some of these cases had been broken by the snaring, smaller branches of the grow-in. The firearms within cracked open and busted. Probably no good at all, exposed to the ambient humidity as they had been for so long. Still, couple of the other rifle cases were good. We had weapons, plural. Binoculars? Got em. Spare power packs that needed charging? Got em. There was a lot of survival gear here. Like a militarized ranger outpost had been stationed here. The synthetic material of the camouflaged cloak I found proudly proclaimed it’d reflect thermal scanning on its faded label even! “Either the old rangers from before the treaties were really into operator stuff or the Obelisk put all this here just for us.” I murmured.
Keick, for her part seemed to be looking it all over with a little inventory in her head. Already tapping in the number of each item into her dataslate. “Well. I’d go with the former. The Obelisk hasn’t been around for us lately.” Came the reply as she poked a claw at one of the now entirely spoiled ration packs. “Still, there’s enough stuff here you could arm a squad of soldiers probably. If you know where we can find some spare soldiers that is.”
I flicked my ear at the poor humoured joke. “Ahuh.” Came my reply. “Maybe you should go try the radio again, they’d love to get their paws on stuff like this I think. Pre-war tech actually made to fight predators like this is rare.” Which begged the question... Why did the cloak boast about defeating thermals? These outposts were dated after our discovery and incorporation into the Federation as an early member, and WELL before the Arxur war. So why had we built cloaks like these? Was this equipment used during the years when we’d resisted the burning of our forests and jungles? If so, it meant it might have been auhh... much more violent then the archives made it out to be. Maybe there was a story here? My inner journalist was theorizing.
___________________________
I’d had to pick my jaw up off the ground after headed over to the garage. Hens Senior and Alma were leaned over the the opened hood of what looked like a remarkably still intact forest rover. The design was actually recognizable, having not changed much from what we had tonight. Six thick grooved tires, a buggy-like cockpit four seater set in the middle, and a back and top rack for storing anything you could want. “Is it working?” I asked the obvious as I stepped inside, noting Junior sat off to the side, fiddling with some wall mounted box or other. He didn’t look to actually know what he was doing beyond dusting it off and giving it a deep stare.
“I wouldn’t think so.” Came the chime of Keick, who’d followed me inside. It was around now my monocular visioned eyes were noting the various tools and spare parts laying around in the garage. Whoever had last been here had left in a hurry seemingly, because it was mostly stocked. No mess on all the immensely dusty parts. I could see a couple smaller fauna in the corners. A lizard here, a rodent there. Obviously there had been some way they’d chewed their way in at some point... Or they’d come in when the door was opened to the bustle and noise of the forest to my back.
It was Senior who looked back at my question, standing to his full height before leaning his back against the old vehicle. “No. It isn’t working. Or at least it won’t be until I figure a way to give the battery juice.” I tilted my head.
“Is it one of those older ones that zap out after a hundred years or so?” Came my obvious question.
He flicked his tail no. “It’s got one of the standard ones, it’s just that it stopped auto-cycling a couple hundred years ago. The electric motor looks like it should work if we pop it on. But we’ll have to see.” He glanced around the workshop. “I want to say we could probably get it working with the tools we have, but if the battery can’t be jumped, or it’s spent, or the motor needs a complete replacement we’re up a creek on getting it working.” It sounded like he knew a bit about it.
The feeling of my face scrunching ever so much came. “You didn’t tell me you were a handyman.” I said, crossing my arms.
“Well it never came up.” He said back with an affable smile. “Listen, it’s been a long couple weeks. Don’t get all spotty with me. We didn’t have anything a hobbying mechanic could fix anyhow.” Just a roll of the eyes from myself is all that met him as Keick spoke up, stepping over to the other three.
“So what’re you gonna jump it with?” She asked incredulously, leaning over the open cabin. From there I sort of... zoned out. All the older Cyonians present were bickering and blathering about the buggy which was quickly losing interest for me. I didn’t understand anything about mechanics like that beyond the bare minimum, so it was out of my purview. If they got it working that’d be another thing but I wouldn’t have been any help right now, so instead I placed a couple careful paws down until I was beside Junior, sitting next to him as he seemed to be eyeballing some far too faded label.
He had a paw lightly rubbing out the dust that’d caked an outlet, still one brown eye fixed on the label. All I could make out myself was the little yellow square symbol warning of an electric charge hazard. Weird to think even now those hadn’t changed. Had Federation technology really not changed all that much? Was it just us? A sigh. “So. What’s got your your nose twitching little dude?”
The past couple nights he’d gotten better with his anger, and... hadn’t destroyed any important tech in a fit of rage. All he’d needed was something to set himself to in a difficult situation like this. Keich had been right to set him on that computer. And.. I’d felt myself trying to encourage him along the way. Partly because I had an investment in getting those maps, and then partly because he’d ended up filling in a spot in my head like a younger cousin. Him and his old man had only been around for a little bit, but I guess maybe I didn’t want to think too hard about what had probably happened to my real family. For now, maybe I felt the most ‘at home’ around Keich and this little tinkerer. Was that weird? It felt like it should be weird.
He answered, looking up with a small upturn in his lips. “I think I found your energy cell charger for those guns you had.” He said simply. “One of the manuals over there wasn’t totally ruined, I saw something about a ‘optical projector weapon’ and ‘charger’ so I was trying to figure out if this was it. I... Think it might be, but I’d need one of those batteries to make sure.”
Now I felt like smirking. “Oh yeah? Well go get one swamp brain. Let’s see if these things still work huh?” Dutifully, he was up and off, tail shaking behind him in what I recognized as excitement. We weren’t totally defenceless anymore, and if the buggy could be salvaged there would be a means at least to relocate if we had to. Or... Maybe I could take a trip down to the city and paint a couple more of those scumbags red-
I shook my head. Where had that thought come from? If I was going back to Ataln it was to try and save more people... Yeah. I still needed to see if Gael was alive, maybe check that old house I’d left Els in. I don’t even know if I could find it now, knowing how scatterbrained I’d been at the time but- making a return to at least try seemed worth it.
Regardless, the box on the wall did turn out to be the correct port to charge energy cells for the guns. We’d just need to rig it up to the solar power system and juice them up to test them. Things were looking up! Our mobility had the potential to go from nights in every direction for shelter to mere hours, I’d just have to hope Senior knew what he was doing.
“Hey. Buddy.” I’d wrapped my arm around Junior’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go take a break for now huh? You were working on the computer all night. Maybe it’d be a good idea to just go relax. Enjoy how much you got done eh?” Besides. Gave me a good way to check out the logs page on the computer system myself before he stumbled on anything. It wasn’t like I didn’t trust him with it but- well there was no way to know what was in those logs.
He nodded, and with that I stood up, streeeetched out, and headed toward the tower. “Good, it’s your shift on the guard tower anyway.” I intoned politely. It was going to be a long day, assuming there was anything of substance in those logs... Scrounging through those would be preferable to sleeping right now anyway.

I would love to add descriptions to all of my cards in a board to help me keep track of what kinds of tasks they are, but I find the little symbol on the card terribly distracting, plus it makes my cards bigger which makes the list feel bigger and more overwhelming, like there are more tasks in it than there really are (and labels are even more distracting while also still making the card bigger).
For clarity, what I'm asking about is when you're looking at a board and see all the cards in your lists. The card has whatever title you gave it, then if you've written a description, made a checklist, left a comment, etc, it'll show a little symbol to let you know that card has a description, checklist, etc. Is there a setting so that those little symbols won't show up?

The man took me to one empty space that was in everybody's view and then presented me with my full name and surname even tho I haven't told it to no one, not even to a person that informed me about all this cult, he told me to sit, observe and listen what they tell to me, then I saw how everyone was getting up and then I've done it with them, everyone that formed circle held hand, and that man was sipping some oil into that fire, which has resulted in it getting extremely tall, and then they begun reciting some shit in Latin, well some of the words they've said were incorrectly spoken but that's unimportant, even tho my skepticism faded away because I was starting to strongly believe in that with my own eyes.
Especially afterwards when I've heard "Bring the victim!" and then every single one of them pulled out their silver knifes out of some silky cloths and they used those knifes to make a cut in their arms so a little bit of blood would come out that they've poured into a small bowl, they also, of course, expected me to do the same, a worried me picked up a knife and placed it close to my arm, everyone else was watching me but I've managed to cut a little bit, blood began to mildly come out and I've placed the bowl under my arm. And then at that moment everyone just spontaneously went to the fire and began spilling those bowls of their blood on that big bowl of fire, when they finished that, they went to one side of the room in a queue, next to one big table, and then that man said, "Bring another victim!"
I heard the sound of the doors opening, at that moment I saw a young woman that was blindfolded and also had cloth covering her mouth while two burly men were taking her out. They placed her on a table and tied her with ropes, the rest of them took out their books that I've also received and began reading one page on Latin, while they were reading it and I was just pretending to, the man took out his knife and approached the tied girl, she was a blondie, also definitely younger than 20, the girl I've never seen in this city, the man pitilessly simply just dug in his giant knife in the spot in which heart is supposed to be in while tons of blood just started spilling out of her through the table on the satanic symbol that was drawn under it. I just couldn't believe that shit I was seeing with my own two eyes.
Their ritual was closely coming to an end, but, I didn't know one little minutiae about this cult, when they are attempting to summon a devil, the first victims blood is from the summoners themselves that love and extols him, the second victims blood must come from someone who's a virgin, and the third victims blood, well rather just say the third victim, must be, everyone, that was a suicidal cult.
When I realizes that, the participants were gathering around that table that had that dead girl laying on it, and they were all gifted with a glass of coffee that had poison in it, at the end that man also gave one to me, I grabbed it and just waited for what will be the next. I thought to myself that there's no way I am gonna try poison, but again, something was just convincing me to try it, just so I can see, if all of this is real, if someone like devil can really be summoned. Everyone took a glance at that giant cross on the wall that was backwards, crossed themselves also backwards while reciting the part of that Latin page they were reading, and then drank the poison, I also just moved the glass to my mouth and... drank it.
Shortly after I felt dizzy and collapsed on the floor like everyone else did, my sight was weaker and weaker, all until an ultimate darkness started to perform, and then, waking up. I woke up in a dark room, the room was dark, wet and utterly devoid of any sounds, and then in one moment, I heard thousands an thousand screams that were happening simultaneously, I started walking straight, until I spontaneously saw all those people that were with me in that factory, they all together stood there confused and full of questions when I approached them they turned to me and asked where the hell are we, I've replied "I obviously don't fucking know, this place is so weird and so creep-", then I mildly chuckled and revealed to them my face, my real face, humans, stupid little homunculuses, curious little humans, in fact so little that they are keep creating wars, hungers, problems, conflicts just so they could make themselves feel little important, humans with so much merit for intelligence and capacity but simultaneously so unbelievably stupid and limited, humans who act like they know so much about god and devil, me, but they didn't know, that I have an amazing and a little dark humour, that I love to have fun in this way, I love, my game.

Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.

Previous Part
Morning eventually came, banishing the eyes that seemed to peer at me through the night. It was strange how suddenly the feeling left me, making me think that someone really was watching me. The whole thing was really doing wonders for my paranoia. Despite the rough morning and sleepless night, I still found myself waiting outside Bianca’s house bright and early that morning. The air was cool but not chilly, one of those perfect days that’s cold enough you’ll never start sweating unless you really try, but warm enough that a T-shirt will get you through without too much trouble.
I only had to knock once before Bianca threw open the door.
“Where you just waiting there for me?”
I asked, cracking a smile and raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll never know” she added playfully, “Are we ready to go then?”
Bianca had made some preparations for the trip, she didn’t have a backpack ready to go but she definitely made an effort to dress the part… sort of. She was wearing an old grey combat jacket that I imagine she pulled out of Stein’s closet. The jacket was way to big for her but she made it work. Her combat boots matched the jacket, looking old and well worn. What didn’t match was the bright red yoga pants she was wearing, but I wasn’t about to complain. Besides, I had packed each of us a spare set of clothes just in case.
“Oh! So I had an idea, its a long walk, not crazy but I’d rather not just walk the whole way if we can help it. Frank and Stein used to have some bicycles when we first came here so I asked them about it and well.”
Bianca chirped, as she led me around the back of the house and pulled a tarp off two abysmal looking bicycles. The bikes were both red at one point but that was a long time ago. Now they were covered in a layer of rust and I could barely make out the branding that may have once read, “Shwinn”.
“Um… Bianca I think I might get tetanus if I sit on that thing.”
“Oh come on! Aren’t you tired of walking everywhere? Lets just give the bikes a shot, if they crumble to dust we can leave them.”
“And get me a tetanus shot.”
I added quickly
“Fine, and get you a tetanus shot.”
Bianca shot back, she feigned annoyance but she couldn’t hide the smile that crossed her face.
Laughing to ourselves, we got on the bikes and took off North, out of town and onto a dirt path leading to the woods. Bianca didn’t say much on the way out but I could tell she was having a good time. This may have been her first time out of the house for something other than supervising Frank and Stein. She tried to hide it by riding fast and staying out in front of me, but I could still catch her eyes literally glowing with happiness every now and then. I thought back to what Frank had said about her eyes glowing when she experiences strong emotion. I hoped that was the case and she wasn’t just trying really hard to influence me, which he had also said would make her eyes glow.
As we neared the end of the path, the forest’s edge came into view. we let the bikes roll to a stop then got off and let them fall over onto the dirt. I half expected them to explode into a puff of rusty brown dust the second they touched the ground but to my surprise, neither bike did. I could’ve swore I heard Bianca sniffle almost like she’d been crying. I opened my mouth to say something and then thought better of it, if she wanted to tell me what was going on she would. Well, that or she’d just manipulate me away from the question. Wait, was she doing that now? It’s hard to tell, maybe that’s how everyone around her feels. The more I thought about it the more I realized how difficult it must be for her just to have friends or form relationships with people at all. If she told them the truth they’d never know if what they were feeling around her at any given moment was real. All they’d have to go on would be her word, could they really trust that, could I? If she kept her secret she’d know that at any moment she could just change how they felt about her, manipulate them into anything she wanted. Could she resist that kind of power over them and still look someone in the eyes and say she was their friend. Not to mention how hard it would be to keep that secret over years of knowing someone.
“So Keith, were exactly are we headed? You do have some Idea where this mine you’re looking for is right?”
Bianca asked skeptically, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Well about that…. I just know its out here in the forest somewhere. That’s pretty much all I have to go on from Frank, Stein, and that massive bartender in town.”
I told her sheepishly.
“Well that explains why you over-packed so much then. Seriously? How long do you think we we’re going to be out here, you’re packed like some kind of survivalist.”
She mocked, picking through the pack I’d made for her. After she finished rooting through the pack I made for her like some kind of giant squirrel and, chastised me yet again for not doing more research on the mine, we set off.
The forest felt imposing as we walked into the woods through a manicured patch of trees. Someone had gone to great lengths to braid a few trees over this little path before the forest turned back into its natural wild state. It gave off the feeling that civilization ended with this path and something else entirely began. As we got off the path our light faded quickly, chocked out by the limbs of massive pine trees. All this cover meant there was very little foliage on the ground which was covered in a blanket of needles. The though occurred to me that we were looking for a mine in a valley. That’s weird because what exactly would be in a valley that warranted the creation of a mine? Usually you’ll find them in mountains so what exactly was one doing out here.
“Bianca I just had a thought, Why would they build a mine out here? I mean what’s the point, is there even anything valuable out here to mine?”
“Yeah, come to think of it your right. What other reason would there be to have a mine out here?”
“Unless they were just mining from a cave but that still doesn’t answer the question of what they were…”
Bianca cut me off
“What was that first thing you said?”
“Um… mining from a cave?”
A lightbulb went off over her head as she exclaimed,
“That’s it! There’s caves under the town, I’ve heard Frank talk about them before! Maybe they didn’t have a real mine so they were just mining something out of the caves.”
“Not to burst your bubble Bianca, but that still doesn’t get us any closer to these caves or mines or whatever it is.”
I responded cautiously, trying not to sound to critical of her revelation.
“Well not exactly, Frank said they were in the East of the forest somewhere so all we have to do is head East till we run into them.”
Bianca said, full of confidence. Then something occurred to me, we had no real way of getting back to the bikes other than retracing our steps. Now that was easy enough now, if we went deeper into the woods we would get lost pretty quickly.
“One more thing Bianca, Maybe we should come up with a way to find our way out? I really don’t want to end up lost out here.”
I asked nervously, fidgeting with my hands.
“Way ahead of you on that one, I left my phone back by the bikes. Here give me yours and I’ll put my number in so you can track it and find our way back.”
She said, taking my phone, putting her number into it, and turning it to me to show she’d tracked her own phones location with it, giving us a path back to the bikes.
As we turned East and headed even deeper into the forest the terrain started to change. Instead of the pine needle coating we started to see rocks and the ground was more rugged. Here and there we’d even pass a boulder or two. I decided to break the silence of our search.
“So are you ever going to tell me how you met Frank and Stein?”
Bianca sighed before responding.
“I suppose you deserve to know if your sticking around. You probably guessed I wasn’t always living with them. Lets just say before that I was with someone who I though meant the world to me but I never meant the same to him. It was all a game to him and eventually I noticed that. Then, a little while afterwards I realized I wasn’t exactly powerless anymore and I did some things that I’m not exactly proud of to survive on my own.”
I could tell talking about this hurt her but I needed more.
“That’s not exactly telling me a whole lot Bianca.”
I pressed, maybe a little to hard.
“I found out I had powers and I used them ok! I got myself out of a situation where I was pulled so many way I didn’t know which direction was up! The second I found out I could do the same thing to people myself, I did! You’re the first person to actually seem to give a shit that wasn’t some crazy doctor that tolerates my existence or someone I just manipulated into caring! Maybe I even did that with you! I JUST DON’T KNOW ANYMORE!”
Bianca screamed at me, getting in my face with tears beginning to run down her own. Her eyes were glowing electric blue again and I knew I’d crossed a line.
“Hey I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you. I… I didn’t know.”
“No.. you didn’t but I guess you should”
Bianca sniffled out, trying desperately to pull herself back together and keep up the act the everything was ok. Bianca went silent for a while as we kept walking along, crying to herself before she finally took a deep breath and said,
“You know, this is the first time someone’s asked me to come along and do something outside the house in years. I spend so much time cooped up in there just helping with experiments and looking after Rocco. It’s actually nice to get out and talk for once.”
Her voice still a lifts hoarse from screaming at me before.
“Look if you want to talk about it we’ve got nothing but time out here. I’d like to know a bit more about you anyways.”
I said taking her hand and trying to sound comforting.
“Yeah maybe I should get some of it off my chest. Here it goes I guess.”
Bianca said, taking a deep breath and tightening her grip on my hand. Her eyes still glowed faintly as she told me her story as we ventured deeper into the forest.
I’ll give you the shorter version of it here, mostly cause I’m not sure how she’d feel about me spoiling all her secrets.. She ran away from her family and her college education for a guy, his name was Brooke. Brooke was from money and had a job lined up by his family at a law firm so Bianca thought she was set for life with him. Bianca was madly in love with him at the time but as days grew into months and years, Brooke became a monster. He cheated on her and told her she wasn’t enough, that her shortcomings drove him to do it over and over again and somehow it was all her fault every time. He became abusive not long after the cheating started, flying into fits of hysteric apology afterwards only further convincing Bianca she was somehow at fault. After three years of this she eventually got up the courage to leave and never looked back. On the road she discovered her powers of manipulation, letting her play with people’s emotions and she only got better at it with time. Unfortunately her abilities got her into a very specific form of getting money out of people, prostitution. One day she tried to solicit Stein and he saw straight through her. Stein took her with him to the hotel he and Frank were staying at and they took her in on the spot. The trio traveled together ever since, Bianca becoming a kind of daughter to them.
I was in shock once she finished her story, it sounded like she’d really been through the ringer.“I don’t know what to say, that’s awful, all of it.”
“It was, I lived it. But I made it through, doesn’t matter how at the end of the day. I’ve got Frank and Stein and that’s enough, they let me into their home and I recovered in my own way, I’m still here so I’ll take what I can get right?”
Bianca stated with a cold loom of determination on her face. It was painfully obvious to me that despite the masquerade of being fine she was barley holding it together underneath. Like just talking about it with me was driving a finger into old wounds.
“At least you’ll never have to go through something like that again. With your abilities you never have to get pushed around like that.”
I said with completely no tact whatsoever. Bianca stopped suddenly as I said this and whirled around to face me. The fire I’d seen in her eyes earlier reigniting in seconds.
“Do you really think that’s all this is?! I’m no better than him, even you don’t know what you really think when you look at me! Admit ti!”
Bianca growled at me, hysterical once again.
“No, Bianca I…”
“Look I know your trying to help but just leave it, ok? I’m done talking about this”
She cut me off, pulling herself back together and signaling very clearly we were done with that particular conversation.
“Besides look over there, That hole in the rock see it? That might be what we’re looking for.”
Bianca said, gesturing to the stone wall that now jutted out of the ground beside us.
The rock wall she pointed out was chipped near the middle in a way that couldn’t have been natural. Straight lines don’t really exist in nature and this hole was cut squarely into this rock wall. As we got closer I could see that it wasn’t just an entrance either. The hole opened into the rock wall but then suddenly dropped, like whoever carved it had hit a point where the ground just fell out from under them. From where Bianca and I were looking into the hole we couldn’t quite see the bottom.
“Well we found what we were looking for, is this bringing back any memories from those dreams you had?”
Bianca asked, sounding a little short tempered still as I searched through my bag.
“What are you looking for in there?”
“Rope, I’ve got to see what’s in there and I’m hoping I brought enough to climb down there.”
I replied hurriedly, still tearing apart my bag to get to the rope I had packed underneath everything else.
“Rope? you’re not seriously going to climb down that pit are you? I can barely see down there.”
Bianca complained, sounding exasperated.
“Here, this should help you see down there.”
I said, tossing her one of the two head mounted flashlights I brought along.
“ME? I never said we were going down there!”
Bianca panicked momentarily.
“Look, you can stay up here and wait for me if you really don’t want to go down there. But I would appreciate having you to watch my back.”
I added trying to soften her up. Bianca opened her mouth like she was going to say something but stopped, instead dropping her own pack to the ground and searching through it.
“Look if I’m going down there I’m going to need something better than yoga pants on and…. You actually packed a change of clothes in here. Geez you really did think of everything.”
As Bianca took the jeans I packed and went off to find somewhere to change I finally found the rope. It was about 50 feet of strong climbing rope that I kept for an occasion just like this. Now that’s not to say I was a professional climber by any means but a 20 or 30 foot rappel I should be able to do. I was hoping that the descent wasn’t much further than that. I anchored the rope to a tree a little ways away from the hole in the rock face and tossed the rope down the hole. It hit the bottom with a satisfying thud just as Bianca got back from changing. The jeans I had packed were a little big on her but she’d manage. She looked like a mess in her ancient combat boot and jacket, all of which were too big for her. I tried to open my mouth to tell her she looked nice, I swear I really did but what came out was hyena-like laughter at her appearance.
“I…. Oh god I’m…. It’s just”
I struggled to get out, laughing all the while.
“Well I’m glad you like it at least, ok seriously come on, stop laughing.”
Bianca scolded as she began giggling herself. Soon enough we were both laughing, Bianca’s earlier storminess cleared up by the absurdity of the situation.
Here we were, a succubus and a guy with a strange mark out in the woods getting ready to rappel into a hole in the ground that apparently didn’t exist. All this was almost starting to feel… I’m not really sure how to put it, not normal but not so strange. Honestly I finally felt like I’d found some kind of purpose again out here. As weird as it all was I was starting to enjoy… this, this whole odd situation I’d found myself in. Bianca and I finally got ahold of the laughter and stood back up from our place on the ground.
“Do I really look that bad?”
She asked
“I’ve never heard you complain about your looks before. But no, with those jeans on you look like maybe, just maybe you prepared a little bit for coming out here.”
I teased, getting a little wry grin out of her.
“Come on, lets get going. Hopefully we can be in and out of there pretty quickly.”
I said, handing Bianca her pack and shouldering my own.
Rappelling in wasn’t actually all that hard, really dangerous without safety equipment sure, but neither of us had any trouble descending the maybe 20 foot drop. At the bottom I saw something that shocked me, this place wasn’t abandoned. I saw lighting set up, not on but very clearly set up recently. Bits of old mining equipment were scattered around the… cave? Mine? Im not really sure what to call it anymore. What concerned me more than anything was the light I saw at the far end of the cave (I’m settling on calling it a cave). The light came from a massive bonfire and I could just make out the shadows of several people sitting around it. I have no idea how we didn’t see the smoke on our way in. It wasn’t filling the cave but it also wasn’t coming out from anywhere I saw on the way here.
“Bianca get down!”
I whisper shouted at her, turning off my headlamp and falling flat to the ground myself. Bianca dropped to the ground as she heard me with unexpected grace. I didn’t know if those figures by the fire had seen us but I certainly wasn’t taking chances.
“Ok, I’m going to creep up and see if I can hear them talking or something. Can you just stay here and watch my back? I don’t want you getting any closer than you have to.”
I instructed Bianca who answered with a quick nod and reached into the inner pocket of her jacket. She withdrew a jeweled golden dagger from it.
“I sorry, what’s this now?”
I asked, confused and thrown off guard by the weapon. It was a really beautiful blade, the hilt was silver with several purple gems inlaid in it. The blade was golden save for the razor sharp edge which was some kind of strange blue material that was roughly the same color Blanca’s eyes glowed.
“I had a life before this you know.”
Bianca responded.
“Yeah we talked about it but you didn’t really tell me much about this part apparently. Doesn’t matter I guess just surprised you have Jeff Bezos’s butter knife in your jacket pocket.”
I whispered, pointing at the dagger in her hand.
“Well we can talk more about how I ended up with this later, not really the time now. Just be careful ok.”
I got up as she said this, realizing she was right. Now really wasn’t the time to be asking about strange daggers, I had more pressing issues.
I crouched down and started creeping towards the figures by the bonfire, careful to avoid the rusty machinery bits scattered across the ground. As I got closer I saw a passage I had missed in the dark. I dared to turn my headlamp on for just a second, trying to block out most of the light with my hand. What I saw through the dim light and shadows of my finger left me awestruck. Inside the passage a coliseum had been constructed, with seats carved into the stone. The structure itself was made up of the rusted metal pieces that littered the room, collected and smelted together to form the walls of the structure. What frightened me the most was the symbol clearly and meticulously drawn on the dirt floor, the same symbol that adorned my back, the symbol of the thunderbird. Moving on, more shaken than ever I crept closer still to the roaring bonfire. I could just about make out the words the figures were saying. When I got close enough to make out the word “tests” the fire suddenly went out with a gust of wind.The room temperature must have dropped 10 degrees immediately and I could swear I heard the sounds of heavy rain above us. But the sudden lack of light isn’t what rooted me in place, cowering on the cave floor. What did that was the two illuminated grey eyes that pierced through the darkness like lightning in a storm, eyes I would never forget, the eyes of the woman from Imalone.
This time I clearly heard the voices of the figures from around the bonfire as they all dropped to their knees.
“Shaoni! We weren’t expecting you till later, Stormcaller.”
The figures all said some variation of in unison. Their tone sounding almost as though they were begging for forgiveness. In a voice that hissed like rain on pavement the woman apparently named Shaoni spoke.
“I’ve come to oversee the start of the trials, is everything prepared?”
In one bone chilling moment her eyes locked on mine and she said the one thing I’d hoped she wouldn’t.
“You didn’t tell me we had guests.”
The moment the words left her lips I turned back to where Bianca was waiting, her now glowing eyes cutting through the darkness of the cave. Giving up any form of subtly, I bolted for the rope behind Bianca. I just wanted to be out of this cave, whatever I might learn from searching around was far outweighed by the fact that Shaoni was here. I’d seen the kind of destruction she’d left in her wake in Imalone and I had no desire to see it happen again here. I banged my ankle on several of the little bits of rusty metal on the floor as I ran, sending sparks of pain up my leg. I didn’t hear anything behind me at all which was almost more unnerving than the footsteps I expected to hear. I closed in on Bianca and saw she hadn’t moved at all, her eyes fixed on something behind me. I dared to take a quick glance back over my shoulder and saw Shaoni taking her first step away from the extinguished bonfire. Lightning crackled around her like one of those novelty plasma globes. In the flashes of light I could see her face. There was no smile or frown, no emotion at all. She simply stared straight ahead towards me and took slow calm steps, inching ever closer.
“Bianca we’ve got to go… NOW!”
I shouted, snapping her to attention. She nodded and turned on her heels, back toward the rope we’d thrown in earlier. Only, when we got to the rope and gave it a tug, it came falling back toward us.
“There’s no way. I…I anchored it to that tree, it should’ve held!”
I cried in disbelief. Bianca and I starred up at the now stormy sky through the hole we would’ve escaped from. Two men walked into view on either side of the hole, glowering down at us. I notice a marking on one of the men’s hands in a flash of lightning from the storm. I could only assume if I was able to make it out I would’ve seen a marking just like the one on my back. Just as soon as the men had appeared a shape flew in from the left with a low growl, taking both men along with it.
“Ok, new plan! There’s something else up there and I really don’t want to get involved with… whatever that was either. I didn’t see any footprints near the entrance so I’m assuming those guys we saw by the bonfire got in another way. We’re just going to have to find where that was and get out that way.”
I instructed Bianca, gesturing to the men in toe with Shaoni and trying not to sound as afraid as I was.
“Ok, I’m with you but lets get moving, I don’t want to any closer to her than I have to be.”
Bianca answered, putting her hand on my shoulder. I suddenly felt a wave of calm rush over me and for the second time I was grateful for Bianca’s ability to simply turn off my fear response.
Shaoni now stood about 50 feet from us with four men following behind her. In the light she gave off I could see the men were all dressed like normal people. I kind of figured they would be more of those canvas wrapped weirdos from Imalone but no. There stood four men in jeans and flannels standing there. Shaoni looked like she could’ve stepped right out of a painting of Pocahontas. She wore an animal hide dress with frills along the bottom and arms. Her head was adorned with a leather band containing several hawk feathers. In short she looked like she’d stepped out of a different time. But I had no time to look over the finer details of her clothing as Bianca and I rushed towards her. Once we got within striking distance I pulled Bianca to the left, towards the passage I had seen earlier. Shaoni never made a move towards us, she just simply looked at me, the ghost of a smile briefly crossing her lips. One of the men with her grabbed at Bianca though, pulling her out of my grasp momentarily. That was a mistake because she was on him immediately with the ornate dagger I’d seen before. As the man grabbed her Bianca lashed out with the dagger, sticking him in the gut with the blade. He screamed in anguish and let go of her but Bianca wasn’t done yet. She followed up by stabbing the man in the back of the neck as he bent over, grabbing at the hole in his abdomen. The other three men were so taken aback by the sudden ferocity she displayed that they didn’t come any closer. As time stood still for a second the men all looked toward Shaoni, awaiting instructions but hesitant to get any closer to Bianca. Using the brief moment of disbelief Bianca had caused, we ran down the side passage towards the coliseum.
“What was that?”
I asked, still shocked by how suddenly Bianca had acted.
“He tried to grab me, I don’t like when they try to grab me”
Bianca responded, distant and… scared? I got the sense she was still in shock at what she had done too. But I couldn’t worry about that right now, we still had to get out of here. Luckily the men didn’t seem to be following us. Wether Shaoni called them off or they stopped to care for their friend I didn’t know, and frankly I didn’t care.
Rushing through the rusty coliseum was haunting. I expected something to jump out of every shadow in the imposing structure. As we slowed to a jog in the middle of the coliseum, right where that eagle symbol was, we stopped to look around. We had come into this arena through an open arch but the only other exit I could see was a similar but barred archway. The coliseum was huge for something constructed in a cave, probably 400 feet across. I had no idea how this thing could’ve been made without anybody finding out.
“Bianca are you seeing anyway out of here? Bianca!”
I asked, then shouted as I turned to see her standing still as a statue in the middle of the Eagle symbol. She was staring at the dagger she had stabbed that man with. Blood still stained the blade and dripped from it intermittently.
“Bianca are you alright?”
I questioned as I walked over to her. She still had this look in her eyes, like she was miles away.
“Bianca? Come on talk to me. Look, you did what you had to do back there, sure it wasn’t exactly pretty but it had to be done.”
I tried to comfort her with my words but the truth is, my heart just wasn’t in it. I was a little scared of what I saw from her in those few moments. She just lashed out and attacked him, not that he didn’t deserve it but going back for more was too much. But what would’ve happened if she didn’t act? It’s not something I could really dwell on now and I’m not sure it really mattered. I just wasn’t feeling all that great about the fact we may have killed someone.
“I don’t like it when they grab me.”
Bianca finally repeated, still appearing catatonic. I leaned down to her level, putting my face right in-front of her’s and putting her head in between my hands.
“Bianca I know enough to know that whole situation may have dug up some memories for you but nows really not the time. We have to keep moving, we have to find a way out of here, and I can’t do that without you right now.”
Bianca tensed up as I spoke to her, but I could feel her relax as I finished. A single tear fell from her eye as she gave me a nod and followed behind me as I walked toward the barred off archway.
Before I made it to the archway there was a massive crash as something tore the rusty bars from their mountings and fell into the room.
“Tuck?!”
I exclaimed, recognizing his colossal figure on the floor immediately. His shirt and pants were torn to shreds though, Like he’d flexed too hard and burst out of his clothes. Bianca and I rushed over to check on him but apparently he was fine. Before we even started walking towards him he was already back up on his feet and lumbering towards us.
“Tuck what are you doing here? Actually never mind, are you ok?”
I asked, concern in my voice.
“It’s going to take more than this to stop me son. I figured you might go looking for that old mine I mentioned the other night so I came to find you. I feel real bad about ya run’in off the way ya did and I got to thinking. Maybe I could make it up to ya if I told ya about the mine. So I came out here and found some shady look’in fellas poking around and figured maybe ya needed help, looks like I was right.”
Tuck explained, dusting himself off and brushing away some of the tattered remains of his shirt. I didn’t buy his story for a second but I wasn’t going to argue with this bear of a man.
“So how did you get in anyway?”
“Used the old entrance from back when this place was still run’in, come on I’ll lead ya out.”
Tuck answered, already turning and walking back the way he came.
The walk out was long and none of us talked much so I just looked around. The further we walked down this little tunnel the more I noticed crushed equipment. The walls looked like they were made up of bits and pieces of crumbled rock that may have once been the ceiling of a much bigger tunnel here.
“There was a collapse, just like the report said only, whatever caused it wasn’t any fault of ours. It was that damn thunderbird waking up.”
Tuck piped up, answering one question and making me ask another.
“Wait you knew about her?!”
“All the miners did, some decided to follow her after she woke up and brought the walls down on us. Others wanted revenge for the brothers we lost, I’m one of the former. You see son, the reason I stayed around this town so long was because of that bird. I want a chance to return the favor.”
“But what about Robert? If you hate the thunderbird so much why’d you let him in? You had to see that tattoo on his hand.”
“I know he thinks that damned bird will “save” him or something but I don’t blame him. Everyone deals with things in their own way and it’s not my place to judge folk for it.”
Tuck lectured, as we made our way further down the passage. His words made sense to me but I didn’t understand how he could be so understanding. From what I understood the thunderbird had a part to play in the original mine’s collapse and the death of the workers there. Only for some of the survivors to revere this creature. If I were in Tuck’s shoes I don’t think I could forgive and forget.
Finally we saw light at the end of the tunnel. We emerged into the whispers of what I’m sure was a monster of a storm. But that’s not what drew my attention, what did were the boulders scattered around the hole we just came out of. It looked like they had been moved, and recently. The suspicious red stain just barley peaking out from the bottom of one of them only served to convince me further. Tuck’s story didn’t quite make sense and this entrance seemed like it should’ve been blocked up until very recently. I wasn’t about to question the guy who saved us though, so I let the issue rest.
Bianca’s idea of tracking her phone to find our way to the bikes worked like a charm. We followed the directions my phone spit at us and eventually found our way back to the bikes. Tuck’s old Ford Bronco sat behind our bikes leaving me to question if he followed us on our way here.
“Well do you kids want a ride back to town?”
Tuck asked, his voice bellowing across the forest. Seriously it was like the guy swallowed a loudspeaker at some point and just spoke through it now.
“No we’ll find our own way back.”
“Alrighty then, stay safe son.”
Tuck called back to me as he got into his truck and drove off. Bianca and I stood up our bikes and got ready to head back to town.
“Hey Keith?”
“Yeah what is it Bianca?”
“Next time you offer to bring me along somewhere can you warn me about the damn thunderbird that seems to just show up around you.”
I laughed at this, it was nice to see Bianca joking around again. After what happened in the caves she seemed like someone else, none of her usual cheeriness was there. Not that I knew if that was what she wanted me to see from her or how she actually presented herself but still. I trusted her enough at this point to assume she wasn’t using her abilities to mess with my head.
When we got back to Bianca’s house the sun was just beginning to set, washing the town in shades of purple, orange, and red. We walked the bikes around to their place behind the house and I walked Bianca back to the front door.
“Thanks for today Keith,I don’t… get out very much anymore and it was… nice… to do something other than sit around the house for once. You know, despite everything that happened it was actually fun.”
I was taken aback by her words at first. If it was me I’d immediately want nothing to do with this person who just put me in danger.
“You had fun? The thunderbird showed up again and we may have killed a guy and you had fun?”
I asked, raising and eyebrow suspiciously.
“Can we not talk about that right now? Anyways I don’t exactly have a high bar for what is and isn’t fun at this point. I’ll see you later Keith.”
Bianca said, cracking a smile and walking into her house.
I was about halfway back to my own house when I realized she never gave me my backpack back. Well, looks like I’d be seeing her again then because I need that stuff back. I wasn’t sure what to think about what I’d seen today. If the thunderbird was in those mines years ago why did she end up in Wisconsin? There was also a very real possibility some people in this town worshipped her so I’d have to keep an eye out for that. The really interesting thing to me was the Shaoni never seemed to want to hurt me in the cave today. She was terrifying as all hell sure, but I didn’t get the sense that she wanted to cause me any sort of harm. If she wanted to do that my gut told me she would’ve done it quickly and efficiently.
Thunder suddenly cracked outside, interrupting my train of thought. As I stood up to see what time it was a knock came from the front door. I froze, who exactly could it be? I doubt Bianca would come over, I don’t think she even knows where I live but maybe she came by to drop off the backpack she absconded with? The knock came again, more forcefully this time.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!”
I shouted, as I jogged to the door. My heart dropped as soon as I opened it, On the other side of the door stood Shaoni. She was dressed normally for once, wearing a long flowing white nightgown. Shaoni stepped into my house as she cooed in her usual misty voice.
“Good evening. Keith was it? We have much to discuss.”

Previous Part
I woke up to the smell of sausage and eggs. Over by the side of my bed was a tray with a masterfully prepared omelet and sausage to match. That’s not what caught my eye though. What did that was the little note stuck to the side of they tray.
“Sorry for terrorizing you- R”
Was scrawled in barley legible hand writing, Rocco’s I imagined.
“So it can cook but not write?”
I muttered to myself as I got out of bed.
A fresh change of clothes was laid out for me and I decided just not to question it. The clothes fit perfectly and I tried not to let my mind wander as to why that was while I ate breakfast. Rocco’s omelet was outstanding, for a trash panda he made a great cook but I have no idea where he would’ve picked that up. After I finished I brought my dishes downstairs and ran into Stein in the kitchen.
“The clothes fit don’t they? My eyes aren’t what they used to be, I should’ve just sent Rocco up to ask your size.”
“No no, they fit fine, and please don’t send Rocco to do anything without telling me. I think that might just give me a heart attack on the spot. I’m still really not used to all… this going on”
I said gesturing to the raccoon who had wandered into the kitchen and was now flipping me the bird with both his paws.

Stein nodded to me with what I hoped was understanding. As much as Rocco seemed harmless (Maybe… hopefully?) I really didn’t want the furry little demon arriving anywhere near me unexpectedly. We already saw how that went in the basement yesterday. I finished washing my dishes in the sink as Stein ate his breakfast. He seemed so calm and normal, compared to the things I’d seen in this house so far. If you took one look at Bianca you say she looked too good to be true. Rocco is… well, he’s a talking raccoon, that’s immediately strange. But when it came to Frank and Stein you couldn’t tell there was anything off about them. Honestly I still had trouble seeing where they fit into this whole thing.
I was lost in this train of thought as I went through the motions of taking my groceries out of the refrigerator where someone had put them. I didn’t even realize Bianca was standing behind me till she tapped my shoulder. Jumping out of my skin I screeched out,
“Jesus Rocco what the hell!”
Bianca went from serious to laughing hysterically in no time flat.
“He really has you spooked after last night doesn’t he?”
She barely got out between bouts of laughter.
“I’m sorry really, oh and I’ve got this for you.”
Chuckled Bianca, handing me a wad of cash with a face that didn’t look remotely sorry for laughing at me.
“Just for that I’ll take it! But I’ve got to ask, how do you have this much cash just lying around, isn’t that a little risky?”
“You’d have to ask my unc… Frank or Stein.”
Bianca answered, stumbling on the apparently familiar lie. As she said this Stein stood up from the table and answered my question.
“Researching the supernatural isn’t always safe but Germany pays its scientists well, even if we don’t work for them anymore.”
“Germany? When did you work with the German government?”
I asked, a sinking suspicion settling into the pit of my stomach.
“1941, The Führer requested me specifically and I met Frank there. Oh don’t look at me like that! I didn’t support his cause, he simply wanted to look into forces outside his control and that was my specialty. It was business nothing more.”
Stein responded, pointing his finger at me and sounding a little annoyed.
“But that would make you… there’s no way you’re that old. Uh I don’t mean!”
“Think nothing of it, if anything, it means our serum worked. Distilled it from the DNA of a few pureblooded vampires and designed it to slow human aging to a crawl.”
Bianca cut him off,
“Stein, I think I can see steam coming out his ears. Can we maybe give the supernatural stuff a rest? I know you’ve been around it all your life but I think its a bit much for him.”
“Yes, I suppose your right Bianca. I’ll leave you two be then.”
Stein surrendered, as he turned and walked out of the room. Like he hadn’t just dropped yet another bomb on me.
I held myself together much better this time. After talking raccoons and succubi, learning vampires apparently existed in such an offhanded manner just didn’t surprise me as much. At this point I was just about ready to accept any supernatural entity I’d ever heard of existed in some capacity. In fact that might be the best policy moving forward.
“Hey you’re not going to pass out on us again right?”
Bianca asked turning back to me, genuine concern in her voice.
“No, I’ll be fine. The more I hear about this kind of thing the better I am at just accepting it. It’s a lot easier hearing it from one of you guys than having it drop out of the sky at me.”
I joked, walking with Bianca to the door. I noticed my poor attempt at a joke was the first time I said anything about Imalone without feeling like someone would call me crazy. I couldn’t dwell on that for too long right now though, I had to drop off the groceries that had taken me a full day to get. In hindsight though, I’ve had worst trips to the grocery store.
The next few days passed without any real issues, I got things set up in the house and ordered some furniture with the money I got from Bianca. On the second day I figured I should go out and explore the town a bit. I was getting bored being cooped up doing normal things and apparently I wanted to throw a wrench in all that.
“Maybe a bar” I thought to myself as I walked out the door just as the sun had started to think about setting, “Those are always a good place to meet people”.
This is where I tell you I may be just a little awkward. Even back home I didn’t really get out and meet new people much but I figured now is as good a time as any to start. I threw together a quick outfit with the clothes I brought with me from home. Hopefully I looked at least a little bit presentable in khakis and a red dress shirt. I walked out my door and immediately saw Bianca’s house peering out over the town. I considered dropping by to see if Bianca wanted to join me. I had told her about the reasons I ended up in Eagles Peak but I still knew precious little about her. I assumed her past wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. I wanted to know what exactly drew someone like her to a sleepy little town like this. Maybe seeing if she wanted to join me would be a good opportunity to learn something about her? It’s entirely possible I just wanted to spend more time around her because she was drop dead gorgeous. Maybe it was because she was the first person I bumped into in town? I couldn’t put my finger on it and if we’re being honest I didn’t want to admit the real reason to myself.
That would have to wait for another day though. I had spent so much time thinking about it that by the time I snapped back to reality I was by the greyhound bus stop, well past her house. There was another bus stopped there and people were getting off of it. None of them looked like what I would call a local but its not like I’d really know what a “local” looked like here anyways. Still, this town couldn’t get this many visitors right? It was weird but probably had a completely reasonable explanation.
“The Eagle’s Roost” read the sign above the bar’s entrance, it was actually a pretty high class looking establishment. The fresh red paint gleamed against the faded whites and grays of the other buildings on the street. Inside, a well polished dark wood floor greeted me. The room was completed by a roaring stone fireplace and a well used set of stools by the counter.
“Hey there! Anyone home?!”
I called out into the empty bar.
“Give me a minute!”
Replied a deep gruff voice form the back room. Eventually a man emerged from the room, well I say man but what I mean was a mountain in human form. This guy had to be about 7 feet tall and built from solid granite. Seriously, the muscles on this guy would’ve put The Rock to shame.
“Little early to start drinkin’ isn’t it?”
The mountain grunted judgmentally.
“Well I’m new here I just wanted to see the town. I could come back later if you want.”
“New, why didn’t you say so! New here, I haven’t seen anyone new here in years! come sit down if you’ve got questions about this place I can probably answer them!”
The now elated giant boomed at me. He turned hospitable in an instant, offering me a drink on the house for his poor manners before. His name was Tucker and he’d come to the town years ago as a foreman for it’s mine. The mine dried up and the workers moved on but something about this town spoke to him and he decided to stay. He opened up this bar and the rest is history. Something about the way he talked about the mine did’t sit right with me though. He kept mentioning how it dried up like he was trying to convince me that was what happened. Plus a mine out here didn’t exactly make much sense to me.
“So you run this place alone then?”
I asked, more to be polite than out of genuine curiosity. We had started to run out of things to talk about after conversation about the mine dried up much like it apparently had.
“Never needed any help besides my wife’s, but most days I just run the place alone, yes. No sense in hiring help here, not many people looking for work outside of the ones working at that grocery store down the street. Anyways I should get back to work, its getting to be about time we actually open to the public.”
I turned my head to look at the sign I now realized was stuck to the door. “Eagle’s Roost Hours: 6PM-1AM every night”. I realized with embarrassment I had walked through the door an hour before opening. Tuck had been nothing but friendly though, and I almost felt bad for assuming the locals like him would want to shoo me away. After all, everyone I’d met so far had been nothing but nice, not including Rocco that is.
As I turned my attention back to my drink I thought about the mine again. I hadn’t seen any records of the mine Tuck mentioned in my internet searches of the town before I came here. Honestly it had been incredibly difficult to dig up anything on the town. I wasn’t necessarily the most thorough in my search, but mines tend to be a staple of the towns they’re located in. This mine in particular seems to be what the town was built on. I’m not sure what had me so worked up on this mine issue but I was sure it was important. I sat there at the bar, mulling it over and sipping on my drink when a hand slapped down on my shoulder.
The man it was attached to said something but I couldn’t catch it even if I wanted to. I was far to laser focused on the mark seared black into the mans hand, the exact same eagle that was burned into my back. I pushed him off and bolted for the door, all I heard behind me was the mans confused “What?” And Tuck shouting at him.
“Now what in the Blazes did you do to the poor kid Robert!”
I shot off into the street from the bar, no one was chasing me but the fact that the symbol was here had set me off like a deer running from a gunshot.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Called a now familiar, heavily accented voice from the alleyway.
“Rocco, what are you doing out here?”
I questioned, bewildered at finding him out in the open. I’d never admit it but seeing a familiar face, even Rocco’s, calmed me down a little
“I’m a raccoon in an alleyway, what do you think I’m doing, fishing? No, I’m rootin' around in the trash, Frank needs some lithium foil and he can’t be bothered to run out and buy some batteries himself, stingy bastard.”
He retorted, looking for all intents and purposes like a normal raccoon at the moment.
“Even if I were to guess I wouldn’t have even come close to that.”
“I live to surprise”
Rocco sneered, taking a bow dripping with sarcasm.
“Anyways Frank is back at the house right? There’s something I’ve got to tell him.”
I asked, turning and running as soon as I got a response in the affirmative.
“Yeah he is, what exactly is so importa…. And he’s gone”
I made it to their strange high house in record time and burst through the door like I owned the place. For some reason Bianca seemed completely unfazed as I crashed into the entryway without so much as a knock.
“You know, you don’t live here right?”
“Oh yeah, good to see you too Bianca. Anyways, were is Frank, or Stein for that matter I’ve got something to ask.”
“They’re in the basement.”
Bianca said pointing to the door without looking up from the book she was reading.
Her dismissive attitude didn’t even register to me as I made my way down the basement steps. I got to the bottom and an acrid scent assaulted my nostrils.
“Do I even want to know what that is?”
I called into the basement, announcing my presence. Frank emerged from a room to my side decked out in a full lab coat and goggles along with a hairnet to protect what little of his still remained.
“What do you need?”
“You guys seem to know a lot about the supernatural right? Well, does this symbol mean anything to you?”
I said pulling off my shirt and turning my back to show him the mark that woman had left me with. His reaction could best be described by the sound of shattering glass as he dropped the beaker he was holding as he saw the symbol.
“Where did you get that?!”
He yelled more than asked.
“Back in Imalone.”
“Imalone? What’s that supposed to mean?”
It dawned on me that I hadn’t explained it to him like I had Bianca, so I filled him in. I told him the whole truth this time, where the mark came from, what really drove me to Eagles Peak, all of it. Frank listened diligently looking more concerned by the minute, at some point Stein joined him. A similarly shocked look was plastered across his face. I swear he was turning white when he answered my question.
“It’s the mark of the Thunderbird, and from what you told us, you met… her in person.”
“So why do you look so worried about it?”
I asked, feeling a little worried.
“Well she’s marked you personally, most people that have that mark would’ve gotten it to show devotion or allegiance and it certainly wouldn’t have come directly from the Thunderbird.”
The way Stein talked about this “Thunderbird” made me think I may be in even deeper shit than I realized.
“So do you two actually know anything about the Thunderbird?”
I asked, hoping these two would know something considering their long study of the supernatural.
“Until recently I only knew of the native legends surrounding the creature. I heard of people marking themselves with that symbol so I assumed there must be some truth to the legends. But neither me nor Frank has ever seen the Thunderbird, much less seen it..er, her take a human form.”
Stein answered, sounding almost disappointed in himself. I got the sense that not knowing something like this really ate at him. Which was just further proven by what he said next, a grin suddenly appearing on his face.
“Frank, I think we have our next big research project on our hands then.”
“I’ll start pulling any records I can find of accounts like Keith’s here.”
Frank said, hurrying over to a computer in the basement corner that looked ancient.
“Yes and compare those to the various legends surrounding the Thunderbird.”
Stein responded, rifling through a row of cabinets against the far wall.
Those two seemed to be whipped into a frenzy by something they knew next to nothing about being dropped in their laps.
“Guys… Guys! Can we hold off on going full mad scientist mode for just a second I’ve got one more thing to ask!”
I yelled trying to get their attention. when they turned to me I could see the spark in both their eyes as they hastily responded in unison.
“Yes, what!”
“Have either of you heard about a mine in this town? Tuck at “Eagle’s Roost” mentioned it but I don’t remember seeing anything about it when I looked into this town.”
“Ah the mine, it’s out in the forest north of town somewhere. There was a collapse or something a few years after it opened and the town covered it up. It would’ve been very embarrassing for them to admit the screw up so they just… didn’t, that’s all there is too it.”
Frank answered, seemingly bothered by the mundaneness of that question.
“So the mine is still out there then?”
“Of course! What did you think it just walked away? No, leave us be we’ve got work to do.”
Stein snapped.
As I left the two to their business and made my way out of the house I ran into Rocco, several grimy batteries grasped in his paws.
“They uh… I don’t think they’ll need those batteries anymore bud.”
“God damnit! That’s what I get for trying to be helpful.”
Rocco yelled, as he threw the batteries against the wall. I had to chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Here I was walking past a talking raccoon on his way down to two scientists looking into a Thunderbird. That’s a real thing that’s currently happening to me. Just a few days ago simply seeing Rocco knocked me out almost immediately and now he was just a minor inconvenience. Could it be that I was actually adjusting to all the crazy things that had been happening around me? I sure thought so.
Upstairs, Bianca was still nose deep in her book at the kitchen table.
“Hey can I ask you something?”
“Yeah sure, what is it?”
“Ever been into the woods around town? There’s something I want to check out there.”
“I don’t usually leave the house all that much if I’m honest.”
Bianca answered, a touch of sadness in her voice.
“Do you want too? Leave the house I mean.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Well, I’m going to be headed out there tomorrow looking for the old mine.”
“And why are you looking for that?”
She questioned suspiciously.
“I have a feeling it has something to do with the mark that woman… and I forgot I didn’t tell you about that.”
Bianca looked up at me as she said with a smirk.
“I knew there was more to that story from the other night. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I’ll spare you the details but needless to say I told the story again. I really need to start bringing everyone together when I do these things, it would save me time.
“So that’s why you came here, and you think this mine has something to do with it?”
Bianca exclaimed excitedly. I could almost see the lightbulb going off over her head.
“Yeah that’s pretty much it, do you want to come with? I mean you don’t have to go but I”
She cut me off,
“You know what maybe I should go. Two sets of eyes gives us better odds right? And you have a bad history with forgotten places I seem to recall.”
Bianca said with a coy smile.
“That’s what we’ll do then, I’ll get some things ready and stop by tomorrow, we’ll leave from there.”
And before she had a chance to rethink her answer I left feeling pleased with myself.
My next stop was the hardware store on the other side of town. Of course I still had my travel bag from the good old Imalone trip but I figured I’d pick up some more tools that could come in handy.. I ended up with two heavy duty flashlights, some work gloves of various sizes cause I had no idea what size would fit Bianca, and a set of bolt cutters. It was only when I got up to the counter and the clerk gave me the stink eye that I noticed my mistake.
“You planning to break into something kid?”
Questioned the older guy cashing me out. I responded before my brain caught up with my mouth.
“I was planning on it but you guys didn’t sell balaclavas. So I guess I’ll have to wait.”
The man eyed me for a second then burst out laughing as he handed me my things. Which was good because I knew a few places back in Wisconsin where pulling that would’ve got me pulled into a backroom for questioning. Not a lot of people knew how to take a joke back home. Weirdly enough it was the first time I thought of home since coming here. Obviously I had family back there but we weren’t exactly close like I said before. I just found myself missing the familiarity of the area I had lived in for the past 24 years of my life. I think that’s why I came to the decision to call my mother when I got home later that night.
The whole walk home I had this strange feeling of being watched. No-one was there, I’m sure because I checked… several times. But even as I locked the door to my house and starting sorting out a bag of supplies for Bianca, the feeling didn’t go away. As I pulled out my phone to call my mother the feeling finally faded into the background as I got her familiar answering machine.
“Hi, you’ve reached Carla, leave your name and number after the tone.”
Straight and to the point as quickly as possible, that was the best way to describe mom and it showed even in her answering machine.
“Hi mom I bet you’re wondering where I ended up. Well I’m in New York now, in a sleepy little town. Its nice really, I already met some new people they’re… well they’re a bit strange but I think I might fit in with them. I’m still looking for a job but I had a really well paying temp thing the other day so I’ll be fine for a little while. Anyways, hope you’re doing well, love you.”
I teared up a bit as I ended the call, I hadn’t called my mother in at least a year. She never checked up on me and I never checked in with her. We’d see each other at family gatherings and talk but outside of that I didn’t really contact her much anymore. It was sort of a mutual agreement that we both had, we assumed the other was alright. But being this far from Wisconsin, this far from home, had finally caught up with me. I wanted to at least hear her voice, even if it was just a recording.
As I finished up packing for tomorrow I was quite proud of myself. I’d thought of just about everything, I dug some old hiking boots out for myself and some rope from my old travel bag. Several different sets of flint and steel and about three days worth of dehydrated food adorned the top pocket of both bags. I’d even found an old water purification kit that ended up in one of the duffle bags I brought from my apartment. In short, I was the most over prepared for an excursion like this I’d ever been. It did help push back the eyes I felt peering at me from somewhere over my shoulder, the feeling of being watched still not leaving me. Once I laid down and tried to fall asleep the feeling only intensified. Sounds of rolling thunder in the distance reminding me of my time in Imalone and the fury of the storm the Thunderbird brought. I felt strangely confident as well though, tomorrow Bianca and I may finally start to uncover some answers as to why I felt called to this town, and maybe even what this mark could mean for me.

Scott Masterson had first met Scarlett at a rooftop party in downtown Dallas. Their age and the time of year were both in late springtime, them in their mid twenties and the date in early May. He had on a sharp yet breezy blazer and she astonished in a thigh length sleeveless blue dress.
“Oh hey Scott I don’t believe you two have met…” his then happily married friend had remarked with a slow swinging open hand toward her.
“Scott Masterson…reluctant friend to this knucklehead” he said with a tight lipped grin, trying not to be so obvious with his instant rapture.
“Scarlett…a pleasure…”
Her hand was so delicate to Scott’s touch. They locked eyes. It was like looking back through centuries of connection, endless days of laying in the sun next to the Seine River, or rising to Hollywood fame in the 1940’s and only having each other who would understand the glory and the pain of it all, or generations of quiet, simple country love that would bear such beautiful, happy children that would go on to raise beautiful, happy children, all with their dark blue eyes. Yes, the memories of every love story since the beginning of time was swirling right there in Scarlett’s irises. Scott had to catch himself before he stared embarrassingly too long.
“Sorry Scottie here doesn’t get out often” his friend quipped, which Scott appreciated actually, it helped him snap back to professionalism.
“Well I don’t either…at least I prefer not to.” Scarlett’s words flowed through the air like a flock of rose petals.
“Hey, kindred spirits.” Scott was really sensing a rising energy out of her, they had barely broken eye contact.
“Well, I’ll let you two have at it, I got a wife around here somewhere. Hey…Scott and Scarlett…not bad, not bad.” His friend exited stage right with a sly chuckle.
“Nice guy…so…what are you drinking, Scarlett?” Scott looked around for the emptiest corner of the rooftop bar, hoping to find a nice place for them to be able to hear each other. This night had just become something.
“That depends, Scott…what do you like?”
Oh man.
Well, as you can expect, the evening blossomed into a beautiful, long winded conversation that etched a long list of similarities between the two. They both lived in the city, had never married, and had dreamed of stable, simpler lives far away from tall buildings and busy streets. The next morning Scott awoke in her arms, which warmed much deeper than just his skin. He could feel her soothing his very identity, his future, everything. Her arms were tailor made to fit his very soul, and he had never felt more safe and at home.
“Mmm…you can stay right here…” she whispered, eyes still closed.
“I will…I will”
They both fell back asleep, into a dream that wouldn’t end upon waking.
Two years passed and suddenly they lived that simple backwoods life, way out where acres of land far out-populated the few and far between people. They took a lovely home, which happily looked over a long backyard, right up to a lively yet mostly undisturbed river. Their only neighbor within a mile was an older ranch worker named Charles, who rarely made himself perceivable. Days were spent way on into town where they both had offices. They didn’t mind the commute. Nights were spent mostly like this night, cuddled outside near a lovely little fire, with a slowly shrinking amount of wine sitting between them. Enjoying their Kingdom. Tonight, however, would prove to be a special night, for many reasons, all unexpected.
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…” Scott began, sitting up and opening his hands to the warmth of the fire.
“Oh?” Scarlett also sat up, eyes widening.
“So look, Scarlett, the last two years have been the best of my life. An absolute dream…”
She held her breath, her focus darting between his eyes and mouth.
“Yeah?”
“We have everything we ever want out here. But…what if there’s more?”
“More?” She had envisioned this very conversation hundreds of times.
“Our dreams have come true, but what if we…made some new dreams?” Scott turned and embedded his eyes into hers. He burst into a big smile.
“Scott…I thought…”
“Nevermind what I said” he cut her off, which he always made a point to never do, but this was a good exception.
“I’m ready, Scarlett…let’s have a family.”
“Ohhhh Scott, oh Scott”
They hugged tight enough to where it hurt.
“Well, in that case, we may need to open another bottle.” She said playfully, bouncing her eyebrows twice.
“Excellent. I’ll be right up. I’ll put this fire out and then start yours up.”
“Oh stop!” She bounded away girlishly, up the snowy back steps and into the house.
Scott let out a big sigh that he could see in the cold air and sat back in his chair, taking in his decision. He really was ready. He had secretly been keeping a long list of names that he liked and that he thought would work in front of Masterson. Especially little girl names. He stared into the campfire flames, getting lost imagining the three of them sitting right here, a little girl resting securely in Scarlett’s arms, as Scott had found himself, and stayed within these past two years.
Suddenly his trance was broken when, from the road in front of their house, came the sound of a vehicle approaching at high speed. Scott snapped his head back toward the house to get a better listen. He could see, around the house and through the trees, a large truck barreling down the country road, its headlights racing and bouncing with intensity. In an instant, it had passed up the road and out of sight.
“Huh?”
Soon, after a moment of silence, another sound echoed into the night. This sound rattled Scott to the bone and tore all that was right in his world into pieces. A sharp, bellowing squeal. His eyes shot over to his neighbors house, which was about a tenth of a mile to his right but still had a couple dim lights on that he could see. The shriek seemed to come from there.
Then, more squeals. It was hellish. More than animal but not quite human. Scott stood up. He heard crashing and tearing and further destruction coming from Charles’ house.
“Scarlett!! Scarlett!” He yelled toward his house, where he looked and could see her silhouette behind the curtains at the kitchen window. She didn’t seem to hear him.
He turned back toward his neighbors. The chaos had gone quiet. Not a half a moment after, though, he heard something big barreling through the trees as fast as that truck had been sprinting. Running, running furiously between the two houses. Searching, hunting. Scott was taken aback so hard that his heel had caught the edge of the fire pit, throwing him down only inches away from severe burns. He had knocked his head in the whiplash, making him groan and take a moment to regain his bearings.
“SCARLETT!!!!”
He screamed out toward his home as he sat up, rubbing a quickly rising bump on the back of his head. He heard a loud breaching on the side of his house. The patio door. No. No. Then, all hell broke loose. Scarlett started wailing and crying and he could hear crashes of plates and glasses and deep guttural roars coming from the kitchen inside. Shadows danced in a frenzy from the curtained windows. Sounds of instinctual survival seemed to be thrown from Scarlett inside. Sounds of defeat. Sounds of agony. Sounds of insanity. Scott sprang to his feet, his equilibrium being more damaged than he realized after his fall. He had to catch his hand on a chair to stabilize himself. Scarlett’s symphony of pain had gone quiet. Soon after something burst back out the patio door again and off in the same direction as that truck before.
Scott struggled back up to the house, slowly climbing the wintered, crunching stairs that led to the patio. He no longer yelled for Scarlett. In fact, the only thing that came to his senses was the sound of his own heavy breathing. Everything else had been turned off, save for a heavy and sudden dread that he had prayed he would never feel. He came to the side of his house where indeed the patio door had been busted and forced open. It laid inside the kitchen, its hinges snapped like toothpicks. Scott, with eyes wide and twitching, slowly entered his home and looked into the kitchen.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t even change his breathing. He didn’t blink. He just got a good long look at what laid before him.
Everything was broken. The fridge was on its side, the door hanging open and food and drink scattered all over the floor. The table was upended, its legs to the ceiling. A chair was resting on the counter, possibly having been thrown in defense. And Scarlett. Oh Scarlett. She…was…everywhere. She was all over the floor. She was sprayed against the walls. She was stuck to the window. She was in the sink.
Scott gently walked through the carnal mess and sabotage of his world. Long ago he had known exactly what he would do if something anywhere near this bad were to happen to him. He politely stumbled through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and lowered a fire safe from the top rack. He unlocked it with a passcode. 511, after that warm May date when he had first met Scarlett. In the safe was a Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Scott took it out, along with a box of bullets, loaded one into the gun, put the safe back on its rack, and walked out of the closet, sitting on his bed. Their bed. Where they should’ve been laying right at this very moment, working toward a happy future. Where he would’ve kissed her forehead and put a hand on her growing midsection. Where they would have awoken on Christmas morning to the sound of children who were way too excited to remain asleep. Where they would’ve grown old. Where they would’ve smiled at each other through wrinkles, satisfied with all the love they shared and passed on to the next generations. Where they would’ve held each other in deep peace as they finally fell asleep to this world.
“I will…I will”
In one quick motion Scott pulled back the hammer and stuck the barrel of that pistol right up against his Governor and blew himself away, far away, right back into Scarlett’s loving arms.
Jeremy “Smallmouth” Bassett quickly yet stealthily made his way back to his Uncle’s house. He hugged the sides of the dark country road, keeping his eyes and ears wide open as to notice any sounds pertaining to the event that he had just witnessed there in the field next to the huge blaze. His only thought was Uncle Chuck. His house was right on the warpath of that horrible thing and Smallmouth had to go to him and make sure he was safe. He dared not go back to his truck, which would bring a lot of unwanted attention. No, Smallmouth walked and walked and finally saw the lights of his Uncle’s house. He carefully approached the front door from the shadowed driveway. Suddenly it occurred to Smallmouth that something was very wrong here. The door was busted in, having been plowed through by something very large and very strong.
“No…no…no”
Smallmouth slowly entered the house. The kitchen and living room were a disaster, chairs and tables and bottles strewn about and shattered. Bloody hoof-prints covered the floors, each of them the size of dinner plates. Smallmouth heard no noise. He felt himself well with tears, his nose a faucet that he began to sniff up as he worked his way through to his Uncle’s room, the door there also being broken in. A small whine growing in his throat, Smallmouth peaked into his uncles bedroom.
It was all in tatters. The bed had been attacked and shredded, the mattress being ripped up and thrown about as if it were made of cotton candy. More bloody hoof-prints were painted all over the brown carpet. Smallmouth trembled and put a hand up to his wet face. He didn’t see a way that his Uncle was anywhere near alive, knowing what he knew about the monster that had been in this house.
Smallmouth slowly walked to the living room, to the only little table that had been untouched in the attack. It was almost as if the bottle of whiskey teleported into his hand from the overturned cabinet, unopened. He fixed that real quick.
Soon he was several pulls deep of the only thing in the world that he knew would make him feel better, even if only for a few hours. He found his pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and lit one up, although he was indoors. What did it matter? He sat in a chair that he had turned right side up and set the bottle on the table and looked out the back window into the pitch black. He cried for his Uncle and he cried for the world. He cried for himself. He cried for broken promises and his own weakness. He drank and drank until his vision shook from right to left everywhere he looked. At first he didn’t even notice the figures on the back porch. Then his vibrating focus did pick up on them, but by then it was too late. It was so dark out there but in their outlines he could see they wore long robes and hoods.
“HA!! COME AND GET ME! HAHA!! YOU COME AND YOU GET ME!!” Smallmouth boasted with a delusional amount of courage.
A creak escaped from the kitchen and he drunkenly slung his head over toward it. Three more figures stood there. Or was it just one? Smallmouth was none the wiser. All at once the hooded intruders from both inside and outside began to chant a strange, twisted rhyme in strikingly low and dissonant harmony:
“A sliver…of liver…goes down…with a shiver… …and gives…your gullet…to gall… …but drink…the Cider…that drowns…the Spider… …and you…will be free…of it all… …so tighten the grip…that loosens your lips… …O raise…the bottle…of brown… …and wake tomorrow…to find…in sorrow… …ANOTHER…SPIDER…TO…DROWN”
Smallmouth groaned at them in dissatisfaction and turned his bottle up again and began to chug the whiskey. As he did they repeated the chant except this time it was louder and closer. By the time Smallmouth had finished his bottle he was quickly losing consciousness. This wasn’t just whiskey. As he closed his eyes he felt hands grabbing him from all sides.
Smallmouth pulled open his sticky eyelids. His head felt like someone had bowled a strike into it. Wind froze his face. The smell of sickly, wet iron stung his nostrils. His vantage was higher than usual. Way higher. He was looking out into another field, but from easily ten feet up. He saw an old church, formerly painted white but now a flaky pale-beige. He heard the friction of a quick pull of rope below him, matched with a slight, tight pain at his feet. He looked down. A red-robed figure was fastening him against a wooden structure of some kind. His feet sat on a small flat platform perpendicular to a post that went from the ground up past smallmouths head. He couldn’t move his arms, so he quickly shot his eyes side to side. They were also tied to another horizontal post. A cross. He was being tied to a crude wooden cross. His shirt had been removed, exposing a hairy, overweight belly. Smallmouth tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, unintelligible grumble. He was still drunk. No, this was more than that. He was under the influence of something strong and absolutely inhibitive. He wallowed again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of iron once again hit his nose. He looked down at himself. He was covered in a thick, red liquid. That wasn’t just the smell of iron. He had been splashed full body with blood.
“Now now, young servant…” the figure at his feet had finished his task and took a couple of steps out to admire his own handiwork.
“Ahh…perfect. The picture of martyrdom. Yes, you will always be remembered, Brother Bassett. You are to be the first Saint of The New Bible.” He opened his arms in his declaration.
Smallmouth looked up into the cold night sky. The moon shown down, giving everything a midnight spotlight. It was a gorgeous waxing gibbous, big and bright but not quite full. Yes, he was in a great big snowy field that housed an old worn down church. From the windows of the church he saw candles glowing, showing dark heads and shoulders looking out to him, also covered in loose hoods, hiding faces. He was hanging on a cross about one hundred feet from the old church. In front of the cross was a partially covered pit, a couple of two by fours supporting double armfuls of branches and dead leaves.
The figure at the base of the cross put his arms back to his side. He was still looking right at the drugged Smallmouth’s dumbstruck face. Even with a veiled mouth you could hear the twisted smile in his voice.
“Tonight you will help us finally defeat this legion, Smallmouth. You see, it may have the evil spirits within it, but at its core, it is still an owned animal. An animal that knows its Master very well. An animal that will remember the smell of its Master. You, my friend, are covered in its Master right now. And you are hanging on a cross, the symbol of this brute’s most hated enemy. But take heart, young Brother. Before you is our pit of spears. Yes you will attract the beast, but our Divine plan will intercept it and the beast will fall and be pierced. And then, oh dear brother, you will forever be immortalized. You will be purified in fire by the hands of your church brethren. Out of your screams and into the smoke the iniquities of all will be released. We will go on to preach your good example and your sainthood forever and ever.”
Smallmouth began to drool and hum pathetically. He could hear and understand the words of the robed man but he couldn’t fight back. His body was useless, limp inside its rope confines. All he could do now is think, and watch, and wait, and dread his fate.
The figure turned away from him, walking over near the pit and gathering up a bundle of brambles and throwing them over the last open area, covering it completely. He then crunched through the snow over to the front door of the old church, groaning open the door. He stood at the dark doorway for a few seconds in silence, and then began to make a noise. An over exaggerated pig squealing noise, high pitched and infuriating. Soon after other voices from inside the church began to do the same, their wailing echoing out of the building and all across the field, loudly signaling, calling out. It may as well have been a dinner bell. Not a half minute after they began the distress signal it was loudly answered by a distant squall. A furious squall.
This was it. Either way it happened Smallmouth was about to die. Experience terror, and then die, and not even have the ability to put up any kind of defense. It wasn’t fair. He just slowly lifted up his head and watched out far into the moonlit, white field. He then raised his heavy head further and took a good gander at the moon and stars for the last time.
“God,” he thought to himself, still having full inner monologue yet no outer motor function, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for being what I am. I am so sorry for ending up in this place. It’s only my own fault. If it wasn’t for me being so stupid and messy and drunk and terrible then this wouldnt be happening to me.”
He began to shed tears that washed lines into the blood on his face.
“Please forgive me God. Please, please, please forgive me for all of my sins. This is it. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” He yelled inside his own mind, hoping and trying to send his silent words as far up into heaven as they could go.
He lowered his eyes back to the ground. He looked over at the church again. The windows were empty, the candles were extinguished. Those hooded cowards were hiding from their own handmade sacrificial service. All was quiet for a long pause until a much louder, closer bleating began at the edge of the forest not even three hundred feet away from Smallmouth’s glazed over eyes. It was time, and it was too late for a miracle.
Out of the woods, slowly and heavily, stomped the massive hog. As it marched closer and closer Smallmouth could see its white, boiled over eyes and black-burnt skin. Its jaws were flying open and snapping its sharp, pocket knife-sized teeth together in an intimidating “clack”. It was now less than a hundred feet away, the dark old church to its right shoulder. It stopped, its pale glowing eyes fixed right on Smallmouth on the crude cross. It truly was a monster. It stood as tall as a man and as long as a canoe. Around its murderous mouth were stains of red, the remnants of all that it had taken from the world on this unholy night. In its clanging jaws were bits of flesh. It snorted and scowled.
Then, in a fury, it wailed that horrible squeal and started off into a dead sprint. It galloped and galloped toward Smallmouth at a high, blistering speed. It kept yawping and howling as it cut the distance from the cross down to fifty feet, forty feet, thirty, twenty. All at once it passed over the covered pit and plunged in. In his doomed, dead eyed stupor Smallmouth could hear what sounded like paint being dumped from a rooftop onto concrete. Trails of black liquid squirted and splashed up from the pit, which had been uncovered in the fall of the beast. Unbelieving, Smallmouth saw dozens of steel spear tips standing up from the dug-in ground. Right in the middle of them the beast was stuck. The sheer weight of the animal had caused the spears to pierce through its tough skin, sticking out of its back, soaked in black blood. One spear had stabbed right under the hogs chin, passing up through its jaws and out its black snout. It made agonized sounds. It roared and roared and shook the spears inside it, beginning furiously, then growing weaker and weaker within seconds. Finally, it let out one last weak little squeal, before it went still and quiet.
Smallmouth was frozen both physically by drugs and constraints and mentally by shock. His mouth hung open toward the pit of spears, his vision blurry. He took in a deep, troubled breath and let out a moan of disbelief and relief. The old church doors sprang open, and the sound of jubilation within flowed out into the night. The red robed figures flocked out of the building toward the pit, arms raised in celebration. They surrounded the hole, getting a good look at their success and their enemies defeat. Some held additional spears and began further stabbing the dead animal, causing more black blood to be shed up at them. They all yelled loudly and triumphantly. Some danced around the pit. Some skipped over to Smallmouth on the cross and danced around him, slapping his legs and spinning in circles.
Smallmouth looked on at the raucous celebration, both in utter disbelief of their trap actually working and also in turmoil. How long now until they fully execute their plan.
A taller robed man, whose voice matched the same one who spoke to Smallmouth as he tied his feet, spoke up, sounding almost happily intoxicated.
“Ahh yes my Brothers!! It is done!! We have won!!!”
They all whooped and cheered.
“Brother Norman, go into the church and bring me the small tank of fuel. Let us send our dear Saint Bassett to the Holy lands, where he will be adored for all eternity!”
They all clapped and hollered. One figure began childishly skipping away from the pit and over toward the front door of the church.
Then, it happened.
From the pit all of a sudden a great blaze erupted instantly. It stood as tall as the cross, and it burned a furious red and blue. It raged and raged, blinding Smallmouth and making him clumsily turn his face away from the heat.
All of the figures panicked, screaming and scattering away toward the church. They didn’t get far. Up from the fiery pit, dozens of long, long, black arms, adorned with six hooking claws emerged and stretched out of the flames and latched on to the legs of those trying to escape. Smallmouth heard crying and wailing from the men as the black, razor clawed-hands of the legion grabbed them and began pulling them back, into the blazes. One by one the red robed people were dragged into the flames, their clothes catching instantly. Smallmouth could see violently shaking bodies in the evil furnace. Oh, the screams. Above the tortured howling, the sound of laughing broke out. Deep, menacing laughter, hundreds of voices, echoed up into the air from the burning hole. Then, in one extinguishing squeeze, the ground swallowed the entirety of the fiery pit, leaving it completely covered in dirt, still and quiet. Soon after, and just like the pit of spears, the old church building caught in an instant and raging fire, quickly toppling the walls and dropping the steeple into its ruins. The smoke towered high in the night sky, which had just began to hint at a pale morning blue. Smallmouth hung on his cross in utter horror and surprise.
As the late evening hours glowed into early morning the smoke eventually tapered off, as Smallmouth’s drugs finally began to wear off as well. The fires of the church did garner long distance attention, though. Just as Smallmouth was able to regain control of his muscles and voice he heard emergency sirens call out into the cold morning air. Not long after, two fire trucks, an ambulance and a sheriffs truck tore into the field and toward Smallmouth on the cross. Not long after Smallmouth could feel the tied ropes being cut loose by firemen, their uniforms easily the best red clothes he had seen all night.
“What on God’s green Earth happened here son?” A bearded man with a dark hat and brown shirt and pants asked Smallmouth once he had been lowered down from the cross and sat on the ground with a shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, no doubt.
“God’s green Earth. It really is God’s, isn’t it?” Smallmouth whispered, staring out across the cold field. Then, at the very place he was staring, an old, familiar truck came barreling out of the gravel road in the woods and through the field in the steadily growing morning light. It was Uncle Chuck’s truck. It hurried over toward the other emergency vehicles, parked, the driver’s side door burst open, and Uncle Chuck came bounding out over to Smallmouth, his eyes wide and his mouth a wonderfully shocked “O”.
“JEREMY! JEREMY!!!” He basically fell on Smallmouth in a tight, warm hug. Smallmouth was caught off guard by Chuck using his real name.
His Uncle held him for several seconds and then let up, but kept his hands on Smallmouth’s shoulders.
“I thought you were dead.” Both of them said at almost the exact same time.
“I came back and your house was a mess and there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead.” Smallmouth weakly spat out.
“Well, I woke up and you were gone, son, so I walked to the ranch to get my truck. I was worried bout ya son. I came back home and the whole place had been turned upside down. Blood on the carpet. I just thought the worst. Then I tried my neighbors house. Buddy, they’re dead. Looks like some wacko murder-suicide if I ever saw one. Scott probably tried to come kill us too and wrecked the place when he found it empty. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that you are right here! You are okay Jeremy!! Ahhh Praise Jesus!!”
“It’s not that, Uncle. That isn’t what happened out here. It’s..it was a..a, uh…”
Smallmouth’s fried brain couldn’t even comprehend what he had witnessed over the past few hours. It was all a violent blur.
“Dont worry bout it son, you can tell me everything on the way to the hospital. We gotta go get you checked out and cleaned up. C’mon.” He helped Smallmouth up and they walked over to the ambulance, his Uncle’s arm thrown around his shoulder.
Smallmouth would be sent home later that afternoon. It would take him and his Uncle a long time to sort through the chaos of that deadly night and rebuild their lives. But life kept on. Smallmouth would remain living with his Uncle, and would begin a job working with him down at the ranch. Together they started to attend a local church. Smallmouth never touched a drink or a drug or even a cigarette ever again, and remained steadfast in his newly revitalized faith.

[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]

Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 2 “Visiting Omen”

He had hoped for a boring day. Boring days are good at work, and Santos was already expecting to not have many of them for a while.
The first couple of days were boring, as usual- Blackriver is a small town, and the worst that had happened was Nila and Kessa making a few wellness checks after worried calls from neighbors. A couple of people in denial, a few ashamed at their own violent outbursts and a stern warning to Tamm about painting others’ properties without asking first.
This morning, however, began with an all-hands meeting. There were no meeting rooms in the office, so they made do in the general workspace room, they all stood there at the center while Keya looked them over.
“We have received a report from a neighboring city about a convoy of protestors making its way to Blackriver” she describes without tone. At this point nobody bothers interrupting.
“This convoy is comprised of approximately four hundred and seventy eight individuals of multiple species, primarily human and venlil but with operationally relevant representations of the entire spectrum of size and mobility types” her paws are behind her back, her ears focused directly ahead, her eyes centered to keep the entire team on the core of her focus “They have crossed multiple cities already, generally engaging in verbal sparring with any figure of authority, parading signs and banners denouncing all manners of authorities as well as occasionally engaging in physical altercations with officers.”
“They are also known to engage in vandalism. Though primarily aimed at exterminator and police precincts as well as public offices, they have already caused considerable collateral to others they have identified as ‘collaborators’” there’s a single heartbeat of waiting for breath before she continues “They have, however, not shown to be an incredibly organized group or one with a clear goal and objective. The convoy appears to contain only extremely emotionally charged people with no clear overarching goal.”
“We are incapable of dealing with the situation should they turn aggressive, as such we will be simply maintaining watch and relocating the populace should they become a problem.” Then, she picks up her holopad and passes it to Lunek beside her “They can only follow one path with the entire convoy, the central street, therefore I have divided it into four sectors. One of each will be assigned to a sector.”
First her ears turn to the first target “Lunek, sector one at the entrance. As the most approachable member of the precinct your task is to give an initial image of harmlessness. Do not engage first, do not take initiative against them. Ensure the members of the herd in the area are warned of their approach. If they become aggressive, retreat and focus on the escape of the herd.”
She tilts her head a little bit, turning her ears the other way “Marik, sector two. Mostly the commercial area, your task is ostensive protection to lower the chances of them initiating aggression. Whereas protection of the herd is first priority your second priority is ensuring Tenve’s Hardware Store as well as Sunbreeze Meals and Watchful Café remain capable of providing anyone whose residences become damaged.” suddenly, she turns her head entirely to face Marik “Ostensive protection means dissuasion, ensure that they know they are not under threat and as long as those specific areas are not engaged, do not provoke”
Next in her line of fire is Santos “As our human officer you will be in sector three, nearby the precinct. They are liable to become most agitated in this area and your presence may serve to calm them. You are not to engage, if deemed necessary the precinct’s materials are considered expendable, do not attempt to stop them”
“Sector four, the exit of town, will be with me to ensure that they have fully left Blackriver and will not attempt to turn back” then she tilts her ears again “Aren, you will gear up with a CCG and remain out of view range, your task will be quick emergency response should the need arise.” she then points her tail at the last three officers “Vess, your task will be to inform the herd and ensure a clear path for the convoy while Nila and Kessa will gather all of our medical supplies and set a staging area out of the convoy’s range. Organize ambulance assistance from Striped Hill and Everrain”
Then, she turns her ears around to focus each one in turn “As any attempt at aggression will end only in negative consequences, and in order to reduce the apparent levels of threat you will be unarmed. The estimated time of arrival is a third of a claw, ready yourselves and be at your post in time. Dismissed.”
“Not sure if I like or I don’t that we had the cold bastard right now” Aren says, as soon as Keya had left the room “Maybe we should move in closer when the convoy gets to sector four?”
“Probably a good idea to be nearby” Santos adds with a sigh “They might take umbrage with her demeanor, hopefully they won’t be set off too hard.”
And with silent signs of agreement all of the officers of Blackriver depart for preparations. The first ones to leave the precinct are the ones in charge of support, the two girls set off early to find someone willing to permit usage of their lawn as a possible impromptu field hospital and a little while later Aren leaves with a heavy CCG.
Slowly, the clock ticks to the appointed claw… And soon enough, Lunek can see in the distance the incoming omen of people. At first a distant line in the horizon, slowly the dark mark on the road coalesces into distinct shapes, the shapes of hundreds of vehicles slowly rolling down the road.
When the first few get close to the initial buildings of the main street, the entire convoy slows down. Their process of preparation is seemingly laborious, each vehicle houses multiple people at a time, smaller cars full to the brim, flatbeds with more people on their cargo space than can safely be contained, even buses conscripted for the effort. They carry with them signs, flags, a multitude of symbols as they dismount their vehicles and start spreading out to fill the street.
They seem to naturally form two distinct yet highly mixed groups, at its most distinctive is the pack of humans who keep a good distance from each other. But they are not alone in this group as takkan, mazic, yotul, zurulian and even drilvar form this central group. But flowing around them, not avoiding their presence but never infringing in their space is the grey mass of venlil, packed tight together, and mixed in there adding color to the monochromatic flux are krakotl, tilfish, sulean, iftali, sivkit and even a seemingly very confused duerten.
And at the very core of the moving group are their vehicles, which gently start rolling forward again as the group starts moving. Lunek simply waits, silently, by the side of the road, his ears attentively swiveling from one side to the other, expression having given way to function. Before the first of the convoy even arrives close he turns to the side, making a pointing sign with his tail. A woman who had been watching from her yard flicks her right ear and runs back inside.
He continues to wait, scanning around at all times for the presence of… Anything. The street is empty of locals when the first visitors start to alight. The convoy is loud, their symbols carry a loudness of colors and their vehicles make as much noise as they can to draw attention, but those who walk seem content in allowing their tools to speak for them, for now. Lunek tries to make sense of the banners and signs, but the messages are disparate as the group- Some speak of injustices against their people, some speak of anger at invaders, some speak of betrayal.
“Fuck off, fireman!” comes the harsh bark of a human, causing Lunek to flinch. But flinch is all he does, he simply starts walking alongside the moving convoy.
The exterminator’s attention is drawn to the details of the few people he can distinguish amongst the mass. Something tickles at his pattern-recognition but he cannot quite ascertain what for a while, until a lightly limping mazic makes her way to the edge of the mass “Want to finish the job?!” she trumpets, her form towering over his.
“I’m just observing, ma’am.” Though the tremor of his voice is noticeable, he remains stoic. But her proximity makes him notice something about her body, marks in her wrists, neck and feet. Though mazic have powerful wrists and knuckles upon which they support the front half of their weight, her left wrist seems completely incapable of it, giving her a limp particular to a three-point walk. “To make sure there’s no impediment on your path” he notices the leathery skin around her left wrist is deeply blackened.
“Oh, ‘no impediment’ is that it? So everyone that lives here is an impediment?!” her voice booms.
“Ma’am” still, he does not yield nor does he break his pace following the convoy “We have not done anything other than inform our people of your presence…” for a half second all he hears is the sound of his own heart “We can’t do anything else.”
Those words, then, sealed his fate. The first shout to echo in his direction was a yotul howling “Yeah you’re useless!” and soon the avalanche came in multiple voices and languages “Can’t do shit!” “You’re just here to hurt people!” “Useless crap!” “Idiot!” and many more.
With every step and twitch the very average exterminator puts all of his focus on just being there. He lets himself cower a little bit, against the barrage it is difficult not to, but he continues to accompany. A few curious coats step out from their houses to watch, but the front of the convoy seems far too focused on the sole exterminator in view to bother anyone else.
A few steps ahead, an older venlil with a cane has moved the closest to the convoy as any watcher has up to now. Seeing her proximity to the increasingly rowdy crowd causes Lunek to speed up, quickly approaching her “Leva-”
But his words are stalled when she puts a paw on his shoulder, she gently puts her head against his for just a second “You’re doing good pup, keep at it” she mutters to him before breaking contact and turning around to walk back inside. He can spy her grandchildren looking on through the door. Lunek looks back at the still-shouting moving convoy, takes a deep breath, and continues to accompany them forward. A small pawful of them, however, seem to have fallen silent.
Once having reached the limit of his assigned zone, however, Lunek stops. He watches the convoy move forward, past the houses, now noisier than before. The initial hollering at him had turned into disjointed screams at some indistinct foe- Though the herd had been noticed of a foe, it was yet unaware of who, or what, said foe was. So for now it howled at the ineptitude of… Someone. And as the last of the convoy passes beyond the imaginary line of his duty, Lunek lets out a deep sigh and allows himself to sit down on the ground.
He stays there for a moment, without thought, simply letting the tension, confusion and fear permeate his body until a gentle paw touches his arm. He doesn’t need to look to identify it, he lets his lover use her strength to prop him up, raising him to his feet “Keina you shouldn’t-”
“Neighbor’s looking over Tiss” his wife wraps her arms and tail around him “I’m not leaving you alone.” she stays like that for a second, before breaking off “Do you need to go after them?”
“No”
Marik stalks through the sidewalk, moving with energy. His speed outpaces the movement of the convoy, his paws twitch to grasp at something that isn’t there and a deep and intense motion makes his short fur stand on end. He had let the convoy’s head move in front of him, simply standing still as he assessed as many as he could in the mass, and now he had begun to move towards the front again.
As he stalked forward he focused his sight on every member of the convoy that seemed of interest. A human whose clothes seemed suspiciously loose, a venlil whose movements were far too stiff, a gojid who kept his claws behind his back. He stared at each like they were his quarry, analyzing every piece of movement they made for threats, and yet aside from the challenge in the human’s gaze he saw no danger arise.
Tenve had closed his shop, so as the convoy moved forward Marik simply continued to follow along, scanning the crowd for threats. But the next point of interest arrives, and he rushes ahead placing himself in front of the only restaurant of the town. Sunbreeze Meals wasn’t a very common sort of restaurant, Blackriver did not have enough visitors for a normal restaurant to be profitable and was small enough most people had their meals at home, it most often served takeout for those farmers who’d spend so long in the field they would return home without the energy to feed themselves.
Sparing a look inside at the only five tables, Marik couldn’t keep a small thought away from his mind. How most who got their meals from Sunbreeze these days did so because they enjoyed the cooking rather than their need of work, ever since the sunspeck population has been brought under control and the maintenance of the fields had become much smaller. He feels the presence long before he can recognize what led him to feel it and turns to stare at a group of six that approach the entrance: Two humans, a tilfish, two gojids and a takkan had broken off from the convoy and approached the restaurant.
He traces his color band over each in turn, and they all bristle at his stare. One of the humans hesitates before continuing to walk inside, and Marik simply remains by the door with his arms crossed, left ear twisted as far back as he could to listen to the inside.
“What have you got here?”
“W-we mostly ha-have ready ma-made meals to go or- or- Or you can look over the menu”
“There’s no need to stutter, y’know”
“So-sorry-”
“Really, after everything y’all are still with this predator crap?”
The chimes on the door echo for the second time in sequence as Marik makes his way inside. The tilfish had started to lean over the counter while the other five had arrayed themselves behind her. They all turn their attention to him as he enters, including the venlil manning the counter. Marik keeps his gaze directly on the tilfish for a few uncomfortable seconds, before looking at the man behind the counter and making a simple sign with his tail, a short vertical bob with the tip and a slow horizontal swipe. It’s meaning simple: >Safe<.
After a few seconds someone else appears from the kitchen. The tall venlil carries a large stack of plastic boxes in his arms, all of them seemingly designed to attach to themselves so as to be carried with ease. He puts them down with a resounding crash on the counter, and opens up his voice with ice “Farmer’s Pots, good meal when you’re working and can’t go home.” With each word the owner of the restaurant and main cook comes closer and closer to the tilfish, until the last “Ten credits each.”
Nobody moves for a couple of seconds, and then one of the humans steps closer and brings a holopad over to the credit reader. There’s a noise indicating payment, and then the owner raises his head and tilts it to focus his favored eye and both of his ears at the man who paid “Now,” he shifts register in his voice and the language he speaks in “fuck off” he finishes.
With no small amount of surprise the group of six retrieve the stack of packaged meals, carefully walking out and back into the convoy. Marik stays behind for a moment “Didn’t know you spoke human”
“Pup’s enamored with their languages. Of course, first greek words he learns is swearing.”
Outside, Marik stalks further ahead to the next point of interest. He moves faster than the convoy, and has time to move in front of it. For a few meters the street is still clear as he arrives to find a group of people standing in front of the Watchful. Standing there were all of its employees, and even all of its regulars, twenty people total standing there as if they were having the most normal day. If not for their raised ears tracking every noise coming from down the street and their swaying tails swinging about like angry beasts.
One of them simply points his tail at the other side of the street as Marik comes closer, and the hunter doesn’t need a second command to understand the meaning. They have this, he has a less practical but just as important duty. He crosses the street quickly before the convoy starts coming closer, and heads towards the park.
As the regulars of the Watchful had feared, it took little time until a large group had broken off from the convoy. With the town on alert about the convoy they had found themselves bereft of prey and now this group had set out to find some, anyone who might be willing, or not, to listen to their grievances. And what is clearly a place designed for people to congregate looked most appetizing.
Marik shadowed the group as they moved through the park, but they were accompanied by nothing but silence. It wasn’t until they ran into the centerpiece of the park that he took initiative, stepping ahead of the group and simply… Standing there a distance away from the tree of many scions, between it and the group.
“What’s so important over there, fireman?” it was a venlil who asked, but his usage of an english word was not lost on Marik.
“A place you will respect” the exterminator has his arms crossed, the one good portion of his gaze set on the man who asked “This is a grave.”
Though the group that now prowled was large, those who heard were taken aback. One such, however, approaches closer. He was a venlil whose fur shifted between a soft, brownish color and a dirty white “A tradition of the tenets right? One of those family trees?” The man would have been distinctive in any other group due to his missing patches of fur around neck, wrists, even portions around his head. But such signs of long term damage were common in the convoy.
Interest. They had shown true interest, or at least one of them had. “No, but similar… The forgotten tree is a grave for the forgotten.” He felt like these people, at least the ones before him, could probably understand the meaning of this place “It is of no tradition. Someone, a long time ago, wanted to honor someone who was gone but whose name was not meant to be remembered. Someone who had disappeared in the system… So they borrowed on another’s tradition, and added a scion to this tree, with something in their memory. Others have done so similarly, until it became… A grave for the forgotten”
“Didn’t think you’d be worried about this kind of place” it’s a human that speaks up this time
“Our duty is to protect this town, what you think-” but Marik’s words are interrupted by that same venlil who had asked before. His demeanor suddenly shifts, his ears perk up and his entire body shifts forward for a moment. He hesitates, for a second everyone’s focus is on him, and then he runs towards the tree.
Marik follows behind, stopping just by the man’s side as he finds himself at the base of the tree. The man makes a direct line to somewhere, something he had found from the distance, as if it had called him. He finds a thick and heavy branch that had been bent down by the weight of its scions and memories, near its base and speaking of a memory left behind long ago is a braid of fur made of three colors, a dirty white, a soft brown and a dark grey, bound by the braids are two beads.
The man raises up a paw, but does not touch it. As if cradling it, he recites the words engraved in one of the beads “I will cross every star to return home” others have come closer to listen to the man’s hoarse voice “There will always be a home for you” he reads of the second one. The names on the beads have been scratched out. The man falls on his knees “S-she kept her promise and… I couldn’t keep mine…”
Marik steps back as he watches two others come closer to comfort the man. He looks as a few others approach with more caution, looking up at the tree with a bit more reverence than they had before. Then, he turns around and starts heading back towards the main street.
Gazing out as the convoy gains a new flux, some leave it as it passes to move towards the park while others leave the park to rejoin the convoy, Marik simply stays there at the side of the street looking as stern as he could. Though the noise of the convoy remains great, here in this portion it seems to die down a little. A thought crosses his mind as he turns an ear as far back as he can, a thought he can’t help but voice “I wonder how many are looking at their own graves…”
As the convoy progresses, Santos simply stands by the front of the precinct, hands in his pockets. He watches the convoy arrive, heart beating fast, constrained hands the only reason he hasn't started shaking quite yet. He starts tapping his right foot as he watches the first few people cross by without noticing what this place is yet, everyone knows where the precinct is, so aside from the words printed on the sign by the entrance there is no other marker of what this building’s purpose might be.
Of course, it is impossible for nobody to notice. The entire convoy seems to stop as soon as a zurulian riding on the shoulders of a human points a claw at the building and says something. A large group breaks away at the command, all of them holding disparate signs and messages. They turn on the building with enough roars that whatever they are attempting to transmit is lost on him.
Santos is thankful his hearing isn’t nearly as good as his coworkers’, as the cacophony is already overwhelming him. He changes stances slightly, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms. This prompts a small group to turn their looks at him, the focus easily identifiable with the humans in their midst, focus which made the hair in the back of Santos’ neck stand on end. Living in this place had refined his sense of danger, but he didn’t need that to realize what could happen.
It was a group of five that approached, four humans and a venlil. “Didn’t think they’d be letting humans live out here in the boonies” said one of his kin.
Santos just shrugs “Got hired to work here. Honestly, rural folk get a needlessly bad reputation, most of the time they just don’t care as long as you’re not bothering them”
“Really? In my-”
Santos interrupts the man “Cut it out” there are many ways in which humans make themselves obvious, many of which are their eyes. Santos did understand the fear of them and why it was primal, it was not the fear of the eyes but the fear of attention, it was knowing you were under the scrutiny and judgment of another that set off that emotion. It was rarely the eyes that showed this attention for most species, but for humans it was, and the man’s clear gaze on his badge made the entire situation clear to him “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”
Someone else is who speaks. The tall woman starts not with words, however, but by spitting on Santos’ uniform “You fucking traitor” her voice is both fierce and cold at the same time. A very emotional coldness.
“There we go” he sighs “Just… Move on. We’re not getting anything out of this conversation”
“Why?” It was the venlil in the group that started this time “These people hate you, they hate you for what you are! Why do you work for them?!”
Santos rubs his eyes and sighs “Because someone has to. Change only happens when you make it happen, simple as that”
“Change?!” another one of the humans howls “Do you think those people can change?! You know the truth, those fuckers have never done anything good!”
“You know, if you had read your history books…” Santos stares at the one who had just had their outburst “You’d remember that we once thought the very same about the police” there’s the sound of glass breaking, but he doesn’t reaction “And a lot of us still do”
The human staring him down shifts their gaze slightly at the broken window of the precinct, then back at Santos “A broken window is easy to fix” he shrugs “As I was saying. Same shit.” he crosses his arms again “There’s a role those people play, a role that needs to be played because it’s important. Different name, different problems, still the same shit. Gotta fix this, I’m doing my part” he then stares at the venlil in the group “You do yours. Simple as that.”
“Role?!” the venlil of the group steps closer “What role could they possibly have?! They only exist to hurt people!”
Santos steps back, and raises his eyes a little bit. Of course, the classics had shown themselves in this instance. With as many humans as there are in the crowd there were now quite a few objects in the air, most clearly aimed at the precinct behind him. Though given the failed arc of some of them it was clearly not just the humans indulging in such a tried and true method.
“I used to be a wildlife preserve ranger” Santos then focuses his gaze on the aggravated venlil “This is a frontier town, if you walk in the brushes with shorts you’ll walk out with your ankles numb. The athai out there are rather harmless, but they keep the sunspecks under control.” He takes another step back “Since coming here I’ve been pest control, had to catch an exotic animal set loose, investigated a murder, helped stop a child from taking her own life, stopped large scale fights, helped a dozen people avoid being arrested for self defense and helped break a fucking siege”
Santos cracks his knuckles “There’s roles. Jobs that need done and there is one fucking organization doing it all. That is a problem.” Then, he sighs and takes a few more steps to the side, offering indifference from this point on “There’s nothing I can say that would make you calm down.” he says one final time “Just make sure not to injure yourselves in the process, alright?” His words seemed to be enough to make the small group cease trying to interact, as the convoy had begun moving again. Though the one human who had called him a traitor gets one final parting shot at the precinct “Where the hell did you get an egg in this planet…” Santos says with a raised eyebrow as the projectile impacts the front door.
Keya stands by a large sign, the same one that welcomes you into Blackriver on one side and sees you out at the other, the official limit of the town. Her arms behind her back, her attention directly towards the front of the convoy as they march. Something gains the whole of her attention, the car in the front. Someone draws her focus, a human with a megaphone on top of the car. The man shouts words of encouragement at the people behind him with the megaphone before turning to his holopad, then he bends over downwards to discuss something with the driver.
She simply remains there, waiting for the convoy to pass. But instead of moving on out of the city, here the convoy stops completely. Keya observes as the further end of the convoy starts to slowly compact upon itself, and her ears pick up something “Alright everyone, start getting ready, next town over is more than a claw away, make sure you’ve left nothing behind” the words were not meant for her, nor for anyone too far. They come from the same man she had seen standing on top of the car, but he had now climbed down and was talking with a group of multiple species.
It is clear they have some degree of leadership, though the convoy does not stop cleanly nor does it begin to organize with alacrity they do respond to the group’s organization. So Keya keeps her focus on them as they point, wave and talk between themselves, others and devices. But at least one of them has noticed her attention, a gangly and light-skinned human with fire-red hair, the man that was atop the car. He starts walking in her direction, before turning around for one final set of commands as he walks backwards “And make sure the guys at the back got all the crap! We’re here to be heard, not to trash the city!” he says before turning back again to head towards her. A venlil with pure white fur erupts from inside the car he was riding, quickly dashing to his side as they notice where he was going.
In a few moments both have come up to her, the human looking down at her with the venlil bristles at his side “Saw anything interesting, fireman?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Isn’t it obvious?!” it was the venlil that roared a response “You saw all of it! You know what they’ve done to us! What they’ve done to everyone! And you still work for those brahking monsters! It’s like you’re thankful they made you a cripple!”
The human puts a hand on the venlil’s shoulder, calming her demeanor just a little bit “We’re here because honestly, we’re all too tired of being fucking ignored is what. So what the fuck are you gonna do?!”
“I have put the wrong emphasis” Keya says with her lack of tone. She can see the human shiver just a little bit “My task is to ensure the safety of this town. Your convoy is a danger. We have eight field-capable officers, we cannot ensure the safety of the residents against a group like yours. People will take actions for reasons, you have broadcast your reasons clearly. You have chosen this place for a reason which I cannot ascertain.”
She makes sure her ears are trained towards both the human and the venlil, an action which causes the venlil to cower behind her partner “We do not house government agencies. This is a farming town of little note. The local precinct is a simple precinct, we have no regulatory or command authority. The town population is approximately double that of the number of your convoy. We have no individuals of appreciable social or political reach. There is nothing in Blackriver of interest to people attempting to change government policy, nor have there been actions taken here that I can identify as being cause for retaliatory actions within the context of your message.”
“I must ensure this does not happen again and the only way of doing so is minimizing our attractivity as targets. A logical assumption of your choice of quarry would be a town with the presence of politicians, a large city with constant news coverage, cities housing important government agencies or those containing the Regional Firebases”
“So I ask again. What are you doing here?”
The two remain silent for a few seconds, before the human turns around with a mouth noise “Whatever, I don’t need to explain myself to someone that won’t listen. Come on!” he starts to stalk back towards the car, but stops once he notices his venlil companion wasn’t moving.
The snow-white venlil has their focus on Keya, who offers a simple low forward swipe of her tail, a sign to proceed. Still, the venlil seems frozen in place until the human comes back and grabs hold of their paw with a gentle touch. At which point both finally return to the convoy.
Keya remains at the side of the road, watching as the convoy readies itself again to leave. People get back inside cars, they hop on the back of trucks and load themselves into buses. She continues to watch as the convoy takes its time riding out, making their way out of the town.
Once it is finally gone, multiple footsteps sound behind her. When she turns around she meets her officers, having returned from their assigned positions “They have left. I expect your reports of what happened in each sector by the end of your shifts” she states plainly, before looking at Santos “They did not appear to have a specific reason for targeting Blackriver.” The question remains unspoken.
The human officer just shrugs “Sometimes, you don’t know what you’re doing. We’re just a little town, I doubt they even know what exactly they’re angry about.” He looks at the tail end of the convoy as it leaves “Town was probably just a place they felt safe going to.”
“D-do you think we might get more like that” Lunek says, at the back of the group.
“Who knows…” Santos sighs “But if human history applies anywhere here… This is just a sign of worse things to come”
[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]
And thus the omen passes by. Feelings, emotions of all sorts, without a plan or a reason other than just their own rage and distress.
Did any of these even know what they were doing? And how much worse can it be when they do?

[First] [Previous] [Next]
When I wake up the next day, my head is swirling with questions. As I get up from my bed and go to clean myself, I can’t help but question everything! Did last night actually happen? I am pretty sure it did, but it all felt so bizarre… and wonderful! There’s a planetarium in the city, and it is magical in the most literal sense of the word! There are books on magic there, too! So I can probably start studying and learning more next time I visit!

Speaking of books… I have something to check there, don’t I?

As soon as I am out of the bathroom I go to the living room to get my pills and then, I start passing the pages of Humiko’s book. As I reach the ‘Epilogue’ section, I confirm to my horror that the words have completely disappeared.

In a panic, fearing the worst, I check my notes… oh, good, those were still here.

“What, were you fearing they would simply disappear too? Idiot.”

“Hey, with magic we really know nothing. It could have happened!”

I do feel a little silly but, yeah. For all we know, it could have happened. The point is that it didn’t!

Breathing way easier now, I sit down on one of the couches and sigh. Picking up my phone, I can confirm that it's Friday and it’s already eleven past noon. I guess this time I am justified in sleeping so much? But at the same time, I can’t help but feel a little guilty.

“Because you’re being lazy, even with your free time.”

With another deep sigh, I try to ignore the voices and just look straight up at the ceiling, tapping my chin for a moment.

How do we proceed from here?

Pelafina said I shouldn’t visit the Elysium early, because it gets full of people. I wonder how true that is… actually, I wonder how true anything she said was.

“Since when are you this distrustful?”

I don’t know. I don’t even know why I lied to her in the first place, but I just felt that this phrase, the one long complete phrase I managed to translate, is far more important than I know. I can’t share it… I actually don’t want to share anything with this lady?

“She will probably send the Cloaks if you stop cooperating though.”

That much I know, and I hate it. She has all the control over the situation!

“There’s one thing she can’t control though. She has no idea about your internet activity now, does she?”

… Good point. I have to focus on that!

I actually have to get back to GalaxyTaco, too! See what he's been doing and all that!

“But before all that, breakfast.”

Ah, right. Almost forgot… although, wouldn’t it be better to just ask for lunch at this point?

“Fair.”

Yes! Time for a burger.

“They feel blander and blander every time you buy one. Why even bother?”

Because they are still delicious, and more importantly, they are cheap and fast!

I quickly order a special Bisontian burger, with extra cheese of course, and then sit back down at the table, connecting my computer to the TER and tapping away a message at GalaxyTaco, to let them know I am up. Then, I write down my discoveries in the file I’m keeping. I’ll transcribe them to the notepad later.

I am adding the symbols (which I’ve learned are called Runes after a visit to the Elysium), meanings and effects I’ve learned. I’ve also learned that I can create Glyphs, which are combinations of Runes to create different effects. I wonder if they are phrases in the language!

Speaking of. They don’t even know it’s a language, they just seem to assume the symbols have effects and that’s it! Maybe they use it, but they haven’t fully grasped the implications yet.

That feels surprisingly shallow though. Just how much knowledge do these people have of magic? Is magic a recent discovery?

Or is there something else keeping people ignorant…?

The burger arrives not too long after I am done writing. I eat it while ruminating on the subject a bit further. They are not idiots, are they? To me, the first thing that comes to my mind when seeing symbols if they are part of a bigger language or something like that. Then again, maybe the lack of translation dissuaded them from experimenting further?

Stuff is not fitting as nicely as I wish…

I am about to write a little more when suddenly, I am added to a group in my messenger service. GalaxyTaco is alive! But not only them! There’s two other people in the conversation too.

Panic ensues, at least for a moment.

“Okay. Just keep calm.” I tell to myself. “Take a deep breath… phew… and let’s do this.”

My fingers are preparing to write some quick and tasteless introduction, when suddenly someone beats me to the punch.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: HIIIIIII!! ^0^!!

Oh no. A weeb, and a very strong one at that. I can feel her aura, her reiatsu, pushing down on me like a wave of augmented gravity. There are two chances here: I either get along real well with this person, or we hate each other on sight. There’s no middle ground among us.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: don’t be shy! :3 we’re friends here, I swear!

Well they are being real nice at least. Could be worse, they could be souseiseki.

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): yo, you there?

Who the hell are these people!? I assume they are friends of GalaxyTaco, right? I really want to be patient but, damn it, new people get me nervous so easily…

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Hi there, hi! n.nUu sorry, this whole deal took me by surprise.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: ohhhh it is fine! uwu gal-kun told us everything!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: you must be so scared Dx I know I was when I got started!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Well it has certainly been a journey, heheh n.n but I’ve managed.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: I found the Elysium last night so, at least there’s that!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good job, that’s a big advancement actually
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): next you gotta find the clinic, though
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: There’s a clinic too? O.o
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): yep. but we’ll explain all that later
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): i’m canny btw. cannedtea at the forum, remember me?

My face burns a little bit when remembering this guy. I wasn’t expecting to find him again so quickly.

“Gay.”

Shut up.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: the name’s Aoi! ^0^/ UwU28 at the forum!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: sorry I didn’t comment your topic, i am a bit shy xwxUu
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: It’s all fine, no worries n.n I’m Tav! But you two probably know that already
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): it bears repeating, girl. it bears repeating.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yeah! ^^/
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: alright I’m back! sorry I was seeing grandma to bed heheh

I sigh in relief, cleaning the sweat off my brow. Thanks saints, this was going to be a little too much for me to handle alone!

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: oh hey gal-kun ~
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: reading up I see you’re all introduced, good good!
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: now I just gotta introduce the plan to you Tav, so pay attention!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: I’m ready! o.o
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: alright, so
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: to avoid 82’s wrath?
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: canny here will be your voucher.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: huh?
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: just put him in your profile and he’ll cover for you.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: And you’re okay with that, Canny? ;w; really!?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): eyeup, don’t worry girl. I gotchu.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: canny-kun and mort-sama covered for me when I just got in too :3 he’s the best!

For a moment I blink. Huh? Covered for Aoi? Does that mean they are also a Bastard Mage? What does that mean? Did they just find the link somewhere, too?

Questions for later, I guess.

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Thank you so much Canny! ;w;
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): no prob bob
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): is it chill if I add you? you seem cool
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah, of course! :3 Add away! You too, Aoi-chan.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: EEEEE! Arigatou!! ^w^ <3 <3
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: oh yeah that reminds me.
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: Aoi, ain’t you forgetting something?
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: ah right!!! Tavy! what are your pronouns? o.o!

What?

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: you put you’d rather not say your gender and that’s so cool! I wanna know what to call you though! uwu
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: if that’s okay of course ^.^
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: Aoi that is NOT what I meant damn it!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): nono, she’s right.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): sorry i kept callin you girl
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: not you too canny… focus!

I have never been asked that before… I mean, I have, by computers. But by people, it feels… odd.

I like it.

“You’re going to start with your delusions again?”

“They can identify as anything. Stop being so harsh!”

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: … I think I will go with she/her.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Is that okay? n.n
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): girl, don’t ask US
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): ask yourself
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): not the mean voice of anxiety, not the shit your guardians told ya
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): are YOU okay with it?

I feel the words pierce my chest for a moment. I gasp for air, my eyes opening a little more.

“This is all just play pretend. Don’t take it so much to heart.”

Shut up.

“What!?”

I said shut up. This time, this is for me. I decide this.

“You little ungrateful asshole…”

I want this. This makes me feel good and I will seize it. And you can go kiss my ass, you hear me!?

“...”

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: … Yeah. Yeah, I think I am okay with it n//n
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): atta girl
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): it’s chill to call you a girl right?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yeah yeah, I like it! n.n
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yayayay Tavy-chan! :3
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: huh. that’s unexpectedly wholesome…
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: but let’s focus! Aoi! do you have the book?
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: right here boss! o.o7

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!! has sent you bastard_recipe_book.pdf
Accept?

Huh? A pdf? I hesitate for a moment but, hell, maybe it’s magic and magic can’t get viruses or something. I just click it.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: this is the rulebook for us Bastards, don’t tell nobody about it though OoO!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: it’s a seecret~
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: A secret book… now that’s cool uwu
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): man, tav’s first secret
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): granny get the camera
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: lol
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: no but really, read it, study it well
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: it’s all vital.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: will do! I’ll print it and get to it right now
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: NO!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: TAVY-CHAN WAIT
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): wait a sec tav
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Huh? O.o
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: don’t print that one!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yeah you can’t print magic books, it’s risky
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): the runes can activate and shit would go boom
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Oh, okay o.o
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Man I hate reading on the computer! ;w;
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: sorry tavy-chan ;w;!! but that’s the only way!
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: yeah… anyways, I gotta go to bed, real badly.
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: I trust you got it from here right?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yep! n.n
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: byeeee everyone!! uwu see you in dejima!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): see you around

I sigh and slowly lean back on my chair. That was intense, way too intense… but I am smiling. Really, this is some proper progress! I finally have tools to work on my own! Maybe I can even translate some more after learning magic!

“Are you sure that’s all you’re happy about?~”

… Shut up. Don’t look too deep into the whole ‘pronoun’ thing.

I am opening the file I got when, suddenly, another message hits me.

It’s from Canny!

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): hey tav
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): if you don’t wanna read it on computer you can get it physical.

Whuh?

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): you said you found an elysium, was it in a library?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yeah! o.o
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): thought so
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): look through the mundane part of the library, specifically in the section where you get cooking recipes
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): see if you can find a cheap notebook that says ‘MAGIC’ in it.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): open it, say ‘jantar mantar’ to it, and that’s your ticket.

My eyes light up. A secret book, hidden under the cloak’s noses like that? That’s perfect!

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): the book’s written in draconic, which basically means only mages can read the real shit and you can’t destroy it
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Wait what? O.o Draconic? Are dragons a thing here?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): not anymore they ain’t
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Aww :c
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Wait,I can’t destroy it? O.o No matter how much I try?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): i mean, you can, but it won’t do nothin
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): don’t worry about it
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ok! n.n but hey I don’t know Draconic D:!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): don’t worry about it girlie
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yay! n.n I will go get it then
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): get some other books too, in case you’re being tailed.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good luck tav
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Thank you Canny!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah! I will be on my phone so don’t send me magic stuff for a while, okay?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): gonna teach you the glyph for your phone later.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yipee!! n.n
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah hell, sorry for that úwu
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): you’re fine girl
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good luck.

I feel motivated, so motivated that I stand up immediately, close my computer, and finish my hamburger on the spot.

“Going out again!? Hah.”

I am running out of mean things to say, that’s a good sign.

“Don’t count on it.”

“You are doing great. Let’s go! The day’s young and we have notes to take!”

Yes! I don’t even notice the door in my way this time! I just go out and hop my way over to the elevator.

To the library! Again!

Freshly back and awake after a twelve day stint for my first time there. I knew that I wanted to go in general, and while I didn't have a firm itinerary planned out, there was one main goal that I had in terms of sites within the country. The main video game that I play is Beatmania IIDX, and it has internal trophies which are represented as badges. Your profile allows you to assign up to five of them as visible when you start a new round, and there are badges to earn for playing at least one round in every prefecture in Japan, as well as every subregion. Getting the Kanto badge meant that I needed to play at least one round in Tokyo, Kanagawa, Saitama, Gunma, Tochigi, Ibaraki, and Chiba. After five days, I had that complete, and now I have a permanent record of this trip within the game itself. There was also a time-limited event to earn points in IIDX in order to exchange them for goods, such as a hat, or a towel, or a new account card and a poster, and I managed to get that taken care of in somewhat dramatic fashion. I did some other things too.
Primary general points
· Getting Suica set on the phone and using it was generally painless. There were only two times where I needed to summon the help of a resident JR employee to clear up an issue with the gate not reading the card for some reason.
· Most vocal interaction which I had was the opposite of painless, because I continuously kept trying to speak Japanese and failing, and most people would realize that I was completely failing at it and responded with English (some with full on sentences, others with just a few words). There were a few rare times that I was able to express my intent in Japanese, receive a response, understand the response, and reply as necessary, but that was rare. Once English was invoked, I would stay with it, because that's what they were expecting. I've been self-studying the language for more than twenty years in varying degrees of intensity, and while my reading comprehesion seemed sufficient enough for this trip, and while I didn't expect my speaking to be as good because I don't have any opportunity to practice speaking, I came away bitterly disappointed in my vocal and speaking comprehension in terms of my interaction with people there. Even within the trip I could at least overhear common chitchat better, but any time I needed to converse with someone for some reason, I usually needed to have things repeated several times and broken down before I finally realized what was being said.
· You are going to be asked about separately buying a bag with every non-food purchase. Accept or immediately present one that you are carrying to indicate how your purchase shall be bagged.
· I never once had my passport requested for presentation.
· Only once did a person volutnarily reach out to address me, and it was just to ask me where I was from in English. Otherwise, everyone left me alone the entire time.
· Weather through the period was ideal. Mid to upper 70F/25C range and only a few days where it was rainy, and even then it wasn't a downpour. A while ago I personally resolved to only wear suits in public and I purchased a new pair of Mephisto shoes after hearing reports of the extensive walking causing problems for traveller's feet and shoes. My attire help up well; there were only a few times that I needed to avoid sunlight to not get too hot, and I have no issues to report from the shoes.
· I only got X'd out of a restaurant one time, and I think it's only because I wandered into it before it was ready for service. Otherwise, I never once waited in line for food, I never once went to restaurant more than once, and all food was acceptably priced for the portion and excellent for the quality.
For these per-day recounts, I wrote them contemporaneously at the end of each day, so you'll need to forgive me for some writing being in present tense and other writing being in past tense.
Day 1 - Travel, Sugamo, Ikebukuro
Non stop flight from Chicago OHare to Haneda. 12 hours. Good thing I usually don't watch movies, because that just means that all I needed to do was binge a few to make the trip go by.
Pre-trip research led me to choose APA Sugamo as my home base for the visit, and I think that it was a very fortuitious choice. I'll have more to say about it later.
Some awkward encounters happened right away upon checking in here. I was at the nearby Family Mart to buy some things and I didn’t catch that he was making sure I wanted a bag until he repeated it five times. Yes, I’ll take it. Before getting there I was coming down to ground level after checking into my room, and when that person saw that I would have been the only other person going down to the ground, they ducked right back out. I was warned on both of these kinds of things happening, so I guess it’s good to have that immediately out of the way. It would turn out that people deliberately avoiding me was rare throughout the trip.
Despite not sleeping on the trip, I had freshly arrived and had no sense of being tired, so once I had my stuff down, I went off to Ikebukuro right away. No picture or video truly conveys how crowded these areas can get. It can only be experienced in person to be understood.
I soon found Round One Ikebukruo and went right in. So dense and loud. It’s entirely alien to me to see no less than ten IIDX machines in operation and all of them in use. I dumped the money into random tickets, as I foresaw doing, but now I have to wonder if that was the right thing to do, or if it’s tied to that location. I guess I’ll find out.
The forecast is for rain so I need to be in a hurry to figure out where I’m going to go. There might be only one day left for me to get my time limited toys.
Day 2 - Kawasaki, Kanagawa - Utsunomiya, Tochigi - Oomiya, Saitama
My body decided that it only needed four hours of sleep this morning. Without doing more research, I somehow decided to assume that more of the Round One locations were close to 24 hours of operation much like Ikebukuro. Answer: no. I hopped on the train early and went to Shibuya first, but it was very quiet, so I decided to get some of the travels out of the way today and headed south to Kawasaki. I still needed to dawdle for a while until Silk Hat opened at 900AM, and when I finally was able to get inside, I was only able to verify that their store had several allotments of the campaign goods and all allotments were out. Played one round on a monitor that was surprisingly blurry, and I don’t know why that would be the case with a lightning model, but it was, so that was enough.
After doing all of that, I resolved to try to go to Chiba and Ibaraki afterwards. I figured that with Kanagawa and Tokyo likely all out, going to the outskirts would make more sense. However, there was an injury on one of the rails that threw everything off normal, and the train I found myself riding was bound for Utsunomiya instead. Seeing as how I was going to go there eventually, I rolled with it.
It doesn’t take too long to move away from Tokyo metropolitan area before you encounter more forest like areas and rice paddy fields. Halfway through the trip I noticed that two older women suddenly hopped off while the train was waiting to go to the next stop, and I followed them when I realized they found the express line. Utsunomiya has a substantial size to its area and buildings but it was very quiet on the streets there in midday. Walked a mile to Sega GIGO, found that they didn’t even have the goods tracker up. All out. Interesting buliding for it having several neon signs, all vintage and authentic at that. Getting to there from the south meant cutting through Saitama, so I knew I had enough time to make one last attempt there. Research shown two stores being near Oomiya station, so that’s where I ended up. Taito Station was immediately visible upon exit, and they have two IIDX machines specifically with 20 gram springs, which is closer to my home setup and that much lighter than standard 50 gram springs. The final hour drew near and I made one last visit to that city’s Round One. Unlike nearly every other place I went to so far, it only had one IIDX machine. However, and maybe because of that, their goods listing didn’t show everything as out. One painful language exchange later, I was able to discern that what I wanted was available. When you spend more than 3000 yen in a single credit, the game wants to verify if you really want to proceed. It does it again at 6000 and 9000. Yes, I really do. But, having made that money dump I was able to get my hands on the e-amuse card and poster with fifteen minutes left before the deadline. Mission complete. By this point in the day it was exceedingly difficult to even look at the screen so I was ready to come home, but not before getting some goods at the Oomiya Book Off and redeeming what I could for points at Round One Ikebukuro. By the end of the day the only thing that I could tolerate doing was to buy some chicken and nigiri from the nearby train station. Good enough. At that point in the day my body felt like it wants to rock back and forth after all the train riding done today. But, it ended up being worthwhile after all.
One nostalgic feeling I had the most strongly in the day was at the Utsunomiya location where the smell of it triggered past buried memories of yesteryear. I think I want to attribute it to the stronger second hand cigarette smell but I’m not sure - all the same I felt its presence strongly there. Also, I don’t see Oomiya (or really Saitama itself) mentioned as a fun place to go, but it might serve as an acceptable alternative to Ikebukuro, only not as massive in scale of human quantity. Depending on how the trip goes in total I may end up back there for IIDX playing, at least if I don’t find any other place that has 20G springs.
Day 3 - Akihabara
With the travels out of the way, it was time to keep things more regionalized and stick to one area, and there is shopping that needs to be done, so it was off to Akihabara and to see how much of other posted tales hold true. The answer is that it is a lot of it. Kotobukiya can stand to open sooner than noon. Super Potato is indeed priced for a market which wants to snap up anything cheap - I at least found Xi for under 500 and felt that it would have been a bit silly to buy only that, but it didn’t make spending 2000 on one single issue of Arcadia any better. I had no idea that Hey Arcade was right next to both of them; while it was assuredly nice to be there and see the row of Cave shooters among everything else, something got messed up with my registration of my new eamuse card with everything else, so that quickly added to my stress. Having to carry around a few hundred dollars worth of crap with every step didn’t help matters. At least I was able to help a person recover their lost phone by applying a bit of logic to the situation and deducing it to belong to the only person there who looked French, as it was on the Lock Screen. They were relieved, yes. Then, rain came, and it was more than I was anticipating, and I left the umbrella at the room, particularly since I knew I’d be shopping this day. It also turns out to have not mattered much, because I went to visit Bic Camera so that I could get myself a hair trimmer while here, and that turned into me finding a bunch of Kit Kats available, so that meant a second bag. The wind kicked out the rain and my umbrella. In trying to get as many gifts secured as possible, I found some gachapon, but it needed 100Y coins, and I didn’t need paper money in the trip yet. After fighting with maps, I found an ATM to get cash, and got the gachapon. I came home late with feeling rather crushed about the day in that I couldn’t take pictures very well with having to juggle weather and bagging considerations. There were some nice parts of the experience to be sure but between that and more gawking at Super Potato pricing ($135 for PS3 Caladrius? $6000 for Pulstar?) and seeing similar markups on other goods, I don’t think it’s unfair to say that there is a reputation that this area carries and the pricing is there to go with it.
Day 4 - Laundry Day. Shibuya, Harajuku, Shinjuku
I was so drained at the end of Day 3 that I fell asleep on the bed immediately after ending the night call, which meant that I woke up at 0200AM to a room that was fully lit. This meant that I needed to look up how to resolve my eamuse problem or else I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. I did both. Awake at 0800AM meant that I had time to do laundry while I figured out what to do with the rest of the day. This meant that I was able to get more of Sugamo in pictures, and it was nice to be able to walk among the actual residences, and do other things like come across a school as it was actually in session. With them being close by and all in succession, I figured to get Shibuya, Harajuku, and Shinjuku visited. It turns out to have been a good day for it, as the temperature was perfectly cool and no rain came, and the sun came out only for a little bit. Shibuya somehow doesn’t seem quite as large in scope in person but the crowds were definitely there, and it is much more hilly than I anticipated as well. After wandering around and not seeing any arcade for a bit, I came across a series of coffee and cookie shops and remained strong to not indulge. It was there while looking at a Disney store (which gets tourists to take pictures of it for some reason) that the song Alone Again came on through the nearby public speakers. What timing. It drove me to finally get a treat for myself, and the frozen latte (black sesame and houji) and croissant (dark chocolate filing) were certainly good, it ended up costing more than the dinner I’d have later this day. I found a seclusion with a garbage can to eat the food and not carry the trash around, then an arcade soon after, and it was time to determine if I could fix the problem. Just like an easy click, it was. New to trash. Old to new. Done. Why did it have to be this way. Harajuku came next, and the environment there was distinct. This one in particular felt like it was an extended carnival atmosphere with the single tight knit market street and emphasis on fashion. A conversation with a freelance artist in the subway actually went well enough that I didn’t feel dumb. The same sensation carried to Shinjuku as well, only it was more spread out. Kabuki street was interesting to see in person, and I didn’t get any unseemly vibes from the place. Maybe it’s different later at night. A return home at a reasonable time allowed me to go down Sugamo’s market street a bit; most of it was closed, but it was interesting to come across the few remaining stores that were open by 0800PM, and more so the one that wasn’t. Coming back to the hotel I found a 24 hour ramen shop with nobody inside. The chef didn’t want to speak and only pointed to the ordering kiosk when I addressed her. The food came through a slot in the obscured window. At least her thank you as I left was a bit more warm, and the food was certainly delicious. To match with the matcha dessert that I bought from Sugamo station, I swung by a 7Eleven to get a drink, and found a milk tea for cheaper than a vending machine. The overhead music in the store was an instrumental version of Alone Again.
Day 5. Ibaraki - Mount Tsukuba, Miraidaira. Kashiwa, Chiba. Akihabara 2.
Awake at 0500AM on my own and knowing the current forecast meant that my envisioned plan for the day was quickly realized. Reaching the Tsukuba Express starting point from Akihabara needs you to get very far down into the ground before getting out into sunlight. I was on the ride early enough to see schoolchildren going about their commute, some of them being no older than ten and going about it unaccompanied. The people of Tsukuba seemed to be particularly helpful and cheerful that day, even despite my Suica issues at the gate. I didn’t ask his name at the counter but the man at the service desk was eager to speak with me about my career and what I was doing there. One asked where I was from on the way up to the summit and another caught my cable car ticket on the way down. There had to have been a few of them who saw my doing this climb in my business attire and thinking me to be a complete idiot if not outright mocking them for doing it that way while they employed the use of dual walking sticks and the like. I know I read some reports of the home stretch being difficult, but it did get pretty close to being an actual rock climb instead of a trail hike for that part of it. A quick stop to Miraidaira on the way back to get the Ibaraki play. The way the town center greets you upon leaving the rail gate struck me as incredible, as well as for how quiet it was. It was like walking onto a movie set. I did find the sweet shop after the play, and that was another painful interaction yet again. Oh well. Two quick stops down Tsukuba Express and one across from Tobu Urban Park line was enough to have a toe in Chiba, and I didn’t even need to leave the physical building of the train station to get to the basement level to find a machine for a play. Thank you, Kashiwa, you were great. Gunma is all that’s left. The descent from Tsukuba did take some earnest exertion, and after doing that the two stops, that put me back in Akihabara about when I anticipated; what I failed to anticipate is how much that place seems to drain on me. I think I just need to eat at an actual dinner time. Once I got back to Sugamo and had food it was a bit better, but while in Akihabara and being around that environment, and not finding things on a shopping list, I found myself just standing still and watching life pass me by. I hemmed and hawed a while for a maid girl’s hour of service for chitchat, but eventually I talked myself out of it because I just didn’t want potential trouble, just like her name. Komaru. I thought about doing this once just to say that I did, but I ultimately decided against it. You cannot go to this place with the expectation that you will find anything unless it is advertised and new. If you are looking for anything used, don’t count on it being there. You also cannot go there without having a strong resolve to not engage with the touts, because it becomes disheartening to see them do their job and blankly stare at the world when they're forced to stand out there and do nothing. Back to Sugamo to find a place that advertised Wagyu but the price they wanted was more than I wanted to spend. The ramen and seaweed & rice servings were fine, but they advertised endless drink and I didn’t receive that. All for $20? No, son. I did better than that elsewhere, I’ll know better now. Long day.
Day 6 - Tokyo Flea Market, Nakano Broadway, Ueno.
The weather couldn’t have been better for this weekend. I’ve read reports that the flea market held near the horse race track will be arbitrarily cancelled regardless of what is reported on the website, but my gut instinct told me that it would occur today, and it did. Turns out that a flea market is a flea market which is a flea market, no matter where it happens. Same allotment of clothes and stuff that few people really want to buy, although I was able to find myself some neckties at least. I probably overpaid based on what I saw later in the route, but that’s fine. They look nice. I settled on some shot glasses for a gift as well, but I’m surprised that I can’t ind something ornate that isn’t part of a sake set. Seated in the shade with a chocolate churro while rap music played in the background - it’s like I never left home. A woman came to sit across from me for the sake of sitting down; she was from Holland and today’s her last day in the country. Her husband came with food eventually. She had three weeks here and went to several places (allegedly, she didn’t list them out) and I asked her about Nakano Broadway. She didn’t make it there. It’s a good thing that I did - this is probably the kind of environment and market that people expect of Akihabara now, and maybe that’s how Aki was years ago, but it’s different from this. What’s more interesting is that Mandarake has a larger presence here than in Akihabara (so it seems to me), and their stores had floor after floor of any and every kind of pop culture product that’s been made in the past sixty years at least. Buttress that with extensive watch and jewelry stores and a slender arcade in the basement, and it’s a very well centralized microcosm of the country’s economy on the whole. I actually made a point to have dinner earlier than usual this time and found a place to serve some deep fried pork cuts served with rice and soup on the side. It was enough, and very well made. The day had not ended and my bag was heavy with several books purchased there, so I reported back to base briefly and decided to try visiting somewhere else, and settled on Ueno. Just as I arrived, a festival was underway where local teams of people made an elaborate show of carrying a home made shrine to a temple. Streets were officially blocked by police to allow the procession. In following the line I came up against makeshift food and amusement stands with the traditional toy gun shooting and goldfish catching. It appears that this is an official “start of summer” festival and I was able to watch it all happen in front of me. That was the good part of the day.
Day 7 - Tachikawa / Kunitachi. Shinjuku 2.
One of the games that I've never played is Beatmania III The Final. I've played some BM3 7th Mix years ago, but not The Final. I found a location that has one - World Game Circus in Tachikawa. In looking around that area before the trip, I saw that there was a nearby shinkansen museum, and not much else, so I figured that going to both places would make that walk worthwhile. Turns out that it wasn’t a museum in the proper sense of a dedicated building. Rather, it was a bullet train engine car on the side of a building that was unrelated, and that was it. A cute interaction happened here - when I approached the car, I heard some children running around inside, so I approached cautiously without knowing if I was encroaching upon someone else's alloted time or something. Once the children saw me, they gave a hearty irrashaimase as I entered, and the boy stamped a paper and presented it to me. Perfect. Despite it not being a typical musem, the card did have some interesting content, and it's good to see some kind of commemoration for their achievements and progression in that industry regardless. They have a lot to be proud about there. Off to WGC. Maps wasn’t lying about the walk taking twenty minutes. It's a good thing that I looked it up on streetview beforehand, because I otherwise would have walked right past it without knowing it was there. Then there it was, and there I confronted a past that I couldn’t visit again. Sure, I got to play BM3 The Final at last, but my timing was off, my hands were off, there wasn’t much I could do. Along with that I can say that I’ve played on a Beatmania II cabinet, and that was better than 5th Style at least. But that was it, that was all I could stand to do. It was right there and I couldn’t bear to put up with it more than a few rounds at best. Dream big, because only disappointment follows if your smaller dreams ever are fulfilled. I don’t know why finding IKEA back in Shinjuku was so difficult, but it took a while. I bought a bag, and then I bought a bag because the other bag was at the end of the register, which makes sense. I did feed myself before getting back to the Taito station to play some songs, but it still wasn’t good enough. All thumbs. Ended the day with laundry since the timing worked. Speaking of making dreams big, it’s time to cross another one off the list tomorrow. I can’t wait.
Day 8 - Takasaki, Gunma. Oomiya, Saitama 2.
It’s a good thing that I only needed to get to Ikebukuro to transfer over to the next stop, because that’s where that particular run ended for some reason. I wonder what was up. Speaking of things getting messed up on trains, I managed to find my way on a train that needed a separate ticket, which I didn't have. The conductor found me right away and had me disembark at Uraja for me to wait for the proper transfer. The weather forecast said there’d be rain, and the travel forecast said it would take two hours to get there, and neither lied. I feel like I had more people staring at me in Gunma than other places. I will say that I found the Takasaki station area to be rather charming, with the stores that it had inside and the emphasis on the music culture there. It’s one thing to offer a piano to the public to play, but it’s another to have a public willing to use it. This location had both. Having what was essentially a Bic Camera built into the facility was a nice touch too. The Leisure Land arcade was sandwiched between other floors that had its own offering of gaming stuff, so that was an unexpected bit of a fun thing to look through. The area was clean and sparsely populated, and it wasn’t picked clean of all matter of things that would normally get snapped up, so that was interesting. Finally, I made it over to the machine. They had separate fans for each location. I got the songs and then the medals came, and that’s that. Kantou Seiou. I would have stayed a bit longer but I wanted to have the medals show up right away, and my internet wasn’t cooperating, so that’s all I could do. I think there was an Internet cafe that I could have used in the facility, but I didn’t want to deal with an awkward conversation. I did get some Lawson on the way out, as well as some trinkets from the local Gunma-chan store as well as some mini croissants and some macademia cookie things. More vocal awkwardness. Omiya was one of the stops on the way back, and I found a place to serve omrice, so that’s another one off the list. No shoes allowed inside. The value wasn’t there but the service was good enough, as was the flavor. The machines with the 20G springs are indeed legit. Back home in time for some McDonalds, and that’s another food-checklist item marked off. Takoyaki mayo dipping sauce - somehow it’s both salty and sweet. While returning to the hotel, I did happen to encounter an argument amongst two teenaged locals where the guy ended up half-heartedly kicking the girl and getting her to cry. I wonder what their argument was about. I didn’t play hero, but someone else did so enough to prevent an escalation and called the police over.
Day 9 - Sugamo, Tokyo Sky Tree, Akihabara 3, Kanda
Up early enough to decide that I should at least visit the Sky Tree while I'm there just to say that I did, and that I should visit the Sugamo street market upon its open since it was right there in front of me. I'm glad to have done so. With everything open, this felt more like what one would think to expect from a flea market environment that's operated and supported by the local populace. Small stores were open both sides of the street that go on for many blocks, and some tents and tables were set up to sell second hand goods as well. I was able to find someone selling a US Morgan dollar and he wanted only 2000Y for it, so that was an easy buy. If I would have known better to anticipate this area, I wouldn't have felt compelled to buy kitchy tourist crap that is expected as gifts elsewhere. If you are looking for a place to idly shop around that doesn't get extremely crowded and has an authentic local feel to it, consider making a point to come here. Off to Sky Tree. Getting the combo ticket for the second deck was worth it just for the lack of crowds on the upper area. If you're going to come here, consider getting a phone selfie stick or something of the kind so that you can take pictures against the windows without the structure scaffolding obstructing your view. On the subject of shopping again, this might be another area to consider visiting just for the sake of the specialty stores to be found here, such as those for chopsticks or hairpins. To close out the day, my wife reminded me to look for something from the Square Enix cafe, so that meant swinging by Akihabara yet again. Since it is within a walkway, it was a bit of a pain to find this place even with using maps, but I eventually found it and got what she wanted to find. Played some IIDX at Game Panic, which was surprisingly small and the one machine that was avaialble to play had some 2P turntable issues, so that didn't last all that long. Dinner was at a nearby place that specalized in tofu, so that was a good ramen serving with that infused. For the evening, I wandered south to Kanda to get night pictures, and found it to feel pretty similar to Ueno.
Day 10 - Ginza, Tokyo, Kanda & Akihabara 4
Launrdry in the morning. I also wanted to say that I went to Ginza in my time here, and I didn't research anywhere to go to keep it a surprise. It was a bit warmer and sunnier than usual that day, and I stuck to the main road for most of the walk, so I can't say that I found too many points of the interest along the path that I walked starting from Yurakucho station and heading out that way. High class store for high class people, and that's too rich for my peasant blood. Similarly for Tokyo proper itself, I suppose I'd have to needed to wander far away from the Yamanote vicinity to find points of interest there, as I didn't encounter anything that was remarkably distinctive here in comparison to other areas that I have previously seen. Continuing north across Nihonbashi brought me to Kanda and eventually to Akihabara yet again, as if it was a magnet that pulled me inside every time. For the sake of trying a different place I chose to play some IIDX at the Leisure Land arcade there, and I'm glad to have done that, as those machines were probably in the best coniditon that I encountered within that area. Dinner was at Tenkaippin, which I didn't realize until after I placed the order was cash only. The clerk didn't request it beforehand but I voluntarily left my passport there to show that I would return, and promptly went to the same ATM that I had found days prior in order to get the cash to pay for the bill.
Day 11 - Haneda T3, Nishi Nippori, Nippori, Uguisuidani, Otsuka, Shibuya, Shinjuku, Ikebukruo, home.
The end. I resolved to take the subway over to Haneda today to get the one luggage over there and stored, and it’s a good thing that I did - there’s no easy solution for getting over there without encountering a crowd. If anything I wonder if Yamanote is actually better. Regardless, I got that much done. With the day left to go, I ventured to Nishi Nippori and I needed to summon the map several times to make sure I found the location, as it was as obscure as it could get. Just a sign on the ground for the third floor, a stairway that led to the back, an elevator that had no decoration, a single room that housed everything. Arcade PCB kits on shelves, joystick panels in exposed boxes, nicotine odor from years past - it was like I was transported to 1995 upon entry, beyond the fact that the games weren’t as old. Most of them, they did have a lot going for SF3 3rd yet. I was able to take care of some game business in a hurry since I was the only one there. It was a very pleasant respite for play in comparison to most of the other sessions. The region itself felt much the same as this arcade - old and well worn, as in well lived. Venturing south to Nippori led me to stumble upon a shrine and cemetery just by following some stairs. Usuigudani was cleaner but mostly had hotels as points of interest. Back home to buy some mochi while mochi was for sale in midday. Then to Otsuka, thinking that I would wander to Ikebukuro, but I ended up wandering back to Sugamo instead. Whoops. Meal at Sugamo, then back out to return to Shibuya and Shinjuku at night to catch evening shots, when I hadn’t done so before at these places. Good thing I did that to get Golden Gai area shots at night. With the night winding down, I decided to have one last IIDX play at Round 1 in Ikebukuro to symbolically end where I started.
Ending arcade comments
· Although the upkeep is generally better and more consistent than the US, some machines will have hardware issues here too. I was surprised by the blurriness with some of the LM IIDX machines.
· Densha De Go on the propert large cabinet is nice but quickly becomes very expensive.
· Bombergirl is OK enough and having the dedicated detonator button that pops up for hitting the base is a cute touch.
· Chase Chase Jokers feels rather clunky and I'm not sure what the game is trying to do. Interesting side screen concept at least.
· Nostalgia is delightful and would probably find a small fanbase worldwide if it had more exposure.
· Favorite IIDX locations are Taito Station in Oomiya for the light keys and Leisure Land Akihabara for the high quality of the LMs there. Honorable mention goes to the Game Versus loctation in Nishi Nihonbashi, but that might not be worth it for a dedicated trip unless you go there first thing in the morning.
Ending overall comments
This was a life altering trip for me, as would be expected. While I'm glad to have made the journey, as to be expected, I will only want to return after making an extensive redoubled effort into speaking and hearing comprehension, because I know that I came across like a blubbering idiot so many times, and it's truly aggravating because I generally know what I want to say and most of the words that are used to say it, but it just doesn't come out of my mouth properly when it needs to be done.
I welcome any questions you may have, as that will help for me to recall the memories and have me write them down.

To transfer to a new broker I plan to sell all stocks held with my old broker and re-purchase the same stocks (with a little caveat) at the new broker within 30 days. I have the following 2 questions:
1.) Capital Gain Tax: Are there any implications on due capital gains and to my section 104 pool? I'm aware of the B&B rules but struggle to find sources to confirm that the avg. price in the pool doesn't get adjusted by doing this. I accumulated a significant amount of gains on those stocks and want to avoid this triggers that CGT is due.
2.) Change in Symbol: When re-purchasing I would buy the same company/class but in a different currency. The stock will have a different symbol but the same ISIN. Is this still the same position for what B&B/section 104 is concerned?
Example:

Buy/Sell	Date	Symbol	Quantity	Price per Stock	Fees	Taxes
Buy	25/02/2013	AMZ	100	9.9975	8.8	0
Buy	11/11/2013	AMZ	100	12.985	8.98	75.13
Buy	18/02/2014	AMZ	80	13.1595	5.9	0
Sell	18/05/2024	AMZ	280	184.70	5	0
Buy	30/05/2024	AMZN	280	184.70	5	0

AMZ => Amazon (US0231351067) traded in EUR AMZN => Amazon (US0231351067) traded in USD

Location: Defense Line Husky, Datsot-3

POV: Motsotaer, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Pack Member)
The shrieking whistle of incoming artillery shell was among the most terrifying noises known to living beings.
Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew. Boom. Boom. Boom.
But it meant you were still alive.
Pack Member Motsotaer wondered if the poor pups in the forward trenches heard them coming as the enemy high explosive pounded into their lines.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
One of their anti-aircraft concrete bunkers took a direct hit; its roof collapsed on itself with a loud crumble.
Grass Eater artillery was voluminous, destructive, but scariest of all, it was incredibly precise. Their intelligence assets in orbit knew all, saw all. Their kill chains were short. Once they saw you, they would call it in, and the remainder of your life was measured in minutes and seconds.
There was nothing vegetarian about the efficient and bloodthirsty way the long-eared Grass Eaters fought, and the numerous intelligent predator species they’d exterminated on their way to Datsot… some of those tales gave even Motsotaer nightmares.
The defenders of Datsot had no choice. No choice but to defend their homes against the psychotic enemies pounding their lines to bits. And the ones who remained had learned the hard lessons of war, either through experience earned by blood or via the process of not-so-natural selection.
Motsotaer clutched his rifle against his chest as he laid in his own shallow hole, eyes closed. If the end was going to come for him, there was nothing else he could do but huddle in his freshly-dug grave.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The blasts continued walking across the defense lines, undoubtedly killing scores of his comrades. But he accompanied each shockwave with a sigh of relief; they let him know that he was still alive. Still breathing.
One final rumble. And then there was silence across the battlefield.
Motsotaer waited a minute before he peeked out — another lesson that smart defenders of Datsot had discovered the hard way. A couple brave medics were already on the move, their shouts left and right, pulling bodies and the groaning injured alike out of the rubble aftermath of the shelling.
With a grunt, he pulled himself out of his hole, rushing towards the neighboring anti-air bunker. The concrete roof had collapsed, but he could still hear cries from the dark. He squeezed through the cluttered entrance.
It was a mess on the inside. The lights were all gone. Scattered sandbags. It smelled like blood and death, and he pushed aside the still body of a Head Pack Leader he only knew of, only to find the corpse of yet another Pack Member, her limbs sprawled in an unnatural position.
“Anyone still alive in here?” he asked in the dark as his eyes adjusted. “Hello?”
There were a series of loud coughs. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“Pack Leader Nidvid!” he shouted as he recognized the familiar shrill voice. “Keep talking! Where are you?”
“Here. I’m here. Help me up.”
As she continued to cough, he had the sense to fish a flashlight out of his pocket, fumbling around until he found the on button. As the light activated, he could see Nidvid half-buried in the dirt, her lower limbs trapped beneath some sand from the broken sandbags.
“Pack Leader!” He got onto his front paws and started digging. “Are you injured?”
“I don’t think so,” she shook her head in the dim lighting as she experimentally wriggled her legs. “Here, I think I’m loose. Help me up.”
Motsotaer grasped her under her arms, and with a heavy grunt, pulled her out of the dirt.
“Whew,” she said, checking her body again for wounds. Nidvid looked around at the other bodies splayed in the bunker. “Oh no… Head Pack Leader…”
“That was a close one. I can’t believe you lived through that!”
“Yeah, me neither… Wait a second,” Nidvid said as she began rummaging through a pile of rubble near the Head Pack Leader’s body. “The radio…”
“What are you looking for?” he asked as he aimed his flashlight towards where she was looking.
“Oh no, no, no…” her voice trailed off as she picked up the device she’d been looking for. “Our hardline communicator…” It was clearly broken from the strike, its shell perforated with a hundred holes and its connection to the landline severed. In disgust, Nidvid threw it back to the ground.
“What uh— what did you need that for?” Motsotaer asked. “Were we supposed to tell them we were being attacked?”
“No… It was— before the strike, we got a high priority order.”
“A high priority order?”
Nidvid recalled, “There’s a special platoon in our salient… We were supposed to get an important message to them!”
“Special platoon?” Motsotaer asked. “Are you okay, Nidvid?”
“Yes, yes,” the Pack leader replied, visibly distraught. “They only had a physical line to us because they’re supposed to be keeping in the dark. Emissions control or something like that so they can activate the flying machine swarm in time. They said this was life and death and our whole defense line hinges on it!”
“Emissions control? Flying machines? Pack Leader, we should get you to a medic,” he said skeptically.
“No! Motsotaer, this is important. We need to get the message to them now. They’re only a couple kilometers south from our position. If we run over to their position now, it might not yet be—”
He looked up at her face in alarm. “Run to another position? Outside the trench line?”
“Yes! We have to go!” she said, as she peeked out of the concrete bunker towards the barren zone ahead of the trenches. “Now! Before they start their offensive.”
Motsotaer began to protest, “But that’s no creature’s land. If we get spotted by their troops, we’ll be hunted down by the Grass Eaters ships in orbit…”
She was insistent, “Pack Member Motsotaer, get it together. We still have a job to do. Are you with me or are you going to sit here and die like a coward to the long-ears?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, straightening up. Death or not, he was no coward. “I mean… I’m with you.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
With a grunt, she leapt out of the trenches and jogged south, keeping to the defensive side of it for the modicum of cover it provided, and Motsotaer quickly followed. As they sprinted away from the tattered defenses, they ran into a thick tree line that hopefully provided them with some concealment from the Grass Eater ships above.
After a couple more minutes of running in the forest, Motsotaer started to tire and pant. He weighed his burning lung and how embarrassed he’d be if he complained. Luckily for his ego, Nidvid gestured for them to stop after another minute and tossed him her canteen. “Take a break before we get going.”
He chugged as much water as he could in a single swig, and returned the canteen to Nidvid. He gasped out, “How much further, Pack Leader?”
“About one more kilometer south,” she said, aiming her snout up at the treetops. “I recognize the smell of this area.”
“What’s this even about? The message… what was it?”
Nidvid exercised her limbs. “That Grass Eater artillery strike… it was to prepare for their offensive on our lines. They’ve gathered an armored division on the other side of that,” she pointed out into the barren fields beyond the trees. “We have an hour at most before they roll over us.”
“An armored division?!” Motsotaer squeaked. The enemy’s Longclaws — their armored vehicles — were legendary. They could kill from kilometers away. And their thick shells protected them against all but the most powerful artillery in the Federation’s arsenal. He’d never seen one of them personally. If he had, he suspected he wouldn’t be alive to tell anyone about it. “What can we do against a Grass Eater armored division?”
“That’s why we have to get to the special platoon,” Nidvid replied. She pointed in the southern direction, “You ready? Let’s go.”
They galloped for a few more minutes. Motsotaer’s limbs tired and his breaths shallowed as his lung burnt. As he was contemplating whether to ask for another break, Nidvid pointed at a shape in the distance. “There, that’s their position!”
He squinted at it. It was not easy to see, but buried in the tree line was what looked like a bunch of out-of-place branches and leaves over a small vehicle. Buoyed by the anticipation of the end of the marathon, he managed to keep up with Nidvid’s pace.
As they approached, there was a loud shout.
“Hi-yah! Stop!”
They halted their steps and looked for the source of the voice.
“Not one more paw step, deserter! This is a restricted area! Turn around or you’ll be shot!”
Motsotaer looked up at the voice hidden up in the branches. After a moment, with some help from his nose, he found the yeller. It was a short, stout middle-aged male with strange-looking green and brown paint smeared all over his fur and face. He had a rifle aimed squarely at the duo.
“Don’t shoot!” Nidvid yelled back. “We’re runners. We’ve got an important message! For your platoon commander.”
The male in the tree looked suspiciously at them as he leapt down. He lowered his rifle, but didn’t seem any less on guard. “A message?”
“Yes, we’ve got an urgent message for Special Platoon Commander Graunsa. Take us to him right now!”
He sized the two of them up. After a moment, he said slowly, “I am Graunsa. Why are you here, and what is the message?”
Nidvid recovered some of her breath and explained, “The Grass Eaters hit us hard with an artillery strike. Our Head Pack Leader is dead. Our landline is gone. We ran all the way over from our lines north of you.”
Graunsa nodded and gestured for her to continue.
“The Grass Eater armored offensive is about to start. They’re moving into position and ready to go, and there’s a special message embedded—”
“Wait a second,” Graunsa interrupted. “Give me the special message exactly, without omission or your own interpretations.”
“Yes, Platoon Commander,” Nidvid nodded. “The message is: bunny water carriers are in play, red-five-zero-eight; come out of the dark and introduce yourself. Authorization is three-three-greyhound.”
Graunsa looked thoughtful for a moment as he pondered it.
“What does the message mean?” Motsotaer whispered at Nidvid.
“I have no idea,” she shrugged, whispering back. “The Head Pack Leader just told me to memorize it.”
The platoon commander seemed to have made up his mind. “Alright, that seems legitimate. Thanks for the message.” He turned around to leave.
Motsotaer shouted behind him, “Wait, what are we supposed to do now?”
Graunsa turned around. “I don’t know. I’m not your commanding officer.” He paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t recommend going back to your lines though. Might not be there when you get back…”
“What?!”
“You can’t just leave us! Where else are we supposed to go?” Nidvid asked.
Graunsa seemed to contemplate the question for a few heartbeats and sighed, “You said you’re from the position up north?”
“Yup,” they replied in unison.
“And you’re a spotter, Pack Member?” he asked, looking at the rank and position patch on Motsotaer’s chest.
“Yes.”
Graunsa relented. “Fine. We might find a use for you. Get into the bunker… before the Grass Eaters in orbit see us dawdling out here.”
“What? Where?”
The officer pointed at a patch of dark green leaves on the forest floor. As they approached it, he grasped a latch and lifted it to reveal a ladder. The three of them descended into the darkness and Graunsa secured it behind them. With a quiet swoosh, a lamp mounted on the wall lit up to reveal a small hallway leading to a heavy-looking door.
Graunsa knocked on it twice. He turned around and looked at Motsotaer and Nidvid. “What you’re about to see in here is of the highest secrecy level of the Malgeir Federation. If you tell anyone what you see in here, you will be executed for treason. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Platoon Commander.”
“Swear it, on your honor.”
“We swear,” they replied in unison, their voices infused with growing excitement.
“Good enough for me.”
The heavy steel door swung open, showing a room that was vastly different from what its primitive exterior suggested. It resembled a command center far more than a field base, and Motsotaer felt a blast of cold air conditioning in his face as he passed the door threshold.
At the front, a main screen showed a map of the defensive lines in the sector. Facing it, two rows of sleek, new computer screens lit up the dark. Their operators worked busily at their controls, and only a couple faces looked their way in mild interest as they entered.
“What is this—” Motsotaer started to ask. Nidvid grasped his shoulder and shushed him.
Graunsa cleared his throat. Several faces looked towards him in anticipation. “Platoon, we just got the message. Activate the FTL handshake and authenticate us in the network.”
“Yes, sir.” A young-looking communication officer near the front operated a few controls on her console. “I’ve got the advisors on the line.”
Motsotaer read his nametag: Gassin. She was a Gamma Leader, much higher ranked than he, but she looked not a day over twenty. He noted that many of the people in the room sported high-ranking insignias despite their apparent youth.
“On screen,” Graunsa ordered.
A communication window appeared on the main screen, streaming video of someone in a jet-black EVA suit.
Motsotaer stiffened. It was obvious that the subject was alien; at around 1.7 or 1.8 meters, it was far too tall for being a Malgeir. Too small for a Granti. And from the side profile of the suit, it didn’t bulge nearly enough for the tails that the Malgeir’s Schpriss neighbors were known for. A strange new species of aliens.
From the blackened visor, it was obvious that whoever that was… it was the reason for all this tight secrecy.
“Special Platoon Commander Graunsa,” it transmitted in perfect Malgeirish. The alien was either a trained-from-birth Federation Channel One newscaster with a perfectly inoffensive accent, or its translator was far better than anything the Malgeir themselves had invented. “This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”
Graunsa stepped up to address the screen directly, “Yes, advisor. Our fire support platoon is ready for tasking.”
“Excellent. Transmitting the first batch of targets in your sector now.”
A series of symbols scrolled onto the screen, showing a number of coordinates.
“We’re getting the enemy positions now,” Gassin exclaimed.
Graunsa turned to her and nodded his appreciation, “Sixteen armored targets. Weapons free.”
“Yes, sir. Programming the sequence.”
A camera on the main screen activated, remotely showing a small hole with some machinery in it dug a few hundred meters away just at the edge of the tree line.
“Launching flying machine swarm!”
As Motsotaer watched, a thicket of metal erupted from the hole in a blur, roaring into the sky.
The main screen was replaced by a four-by-four of windows of black and white images. It took him a couple seconds to realize that he was looking at the battlefield from above. The Malgeir had rotary wing, airplanes, and jet — some were even armed, but they were usually much bigger. And their air assets had been grounded since the early days of the battle for Datsot when the enemy took the orbits.
Not these tiny devices though.
He focused on one of the sixteen windows.
The ground sped past below the camera’s vision, tree line after tree line, the flying machine seemed to know where it was going by itself: Motsotaer looked at the other occupants in the room. None of them seemed to be directly controlling it.
He stiffened.
Is this controlled by a thinking machine?
“We’re getting in range of the target coordinates, Platoon Commander,” Gassin updated the room a few minutes later.
As if on cue, the flying machines flew higher, and the trees on the ground grew smaller, as if further away. Until…
“Targets identified!” Gassin reported with excitement in her voice.
As an infantry spotter, Motsotaer had been trained — barely — to identify enemy armored vehicles. As in, he’d been given a cheatsheet containing the silhouettes of the different types of vehicles the enemy drove. But even he couldn’t tell at this distance what the white-hot smudges on the screen were.
The machine had no such issues though.
Several red boxes materialized on the screen, clearly marking several enemy vehicles in the thermal imagery and adorning them with detailed information.
The one Motsotaer was watching said:
Hostile vehicle, Longclaw MK4 (top armor: ~25mm), 4.2 km.
No hostile EW detected.
Without additional prompting, the flying machines raced in towards their targets, each recognizing a different one as its final destination. Afraid to blink, Motsotaer stared intently at one of the video streams.
A new line of text appeared at the top of the screen:
ETA 20 seconds.
It counted down the seconds, number by number.
The enemy Longclaw got larger and larger until… the screen went black, replaced by static. As he looked around, the other windows were similarly replaced with static one-by-one.
Motsotaer frowned, wondering where the videos had gone.
Then, it hit him. The flying machines were on one-way trips.
The sixteen windows disappeared, and another one appeared, showing the enemy assembly area from a much higher perspective. And instead of the vehicles he expected, he counted sixteen burning wrecks, the black smoke from their flames reaching up into the sky in columns.
“Targets destroyed, Commander,” Gassin said. Several of the officers in the room looked at each other excitedly, but their celebration was muted.
Graunsa nodded. “Call our advisors again.”
The alien appeared on the screen again. “Excellent work, Platoon Commander. We’re assessing the lines and getting the second batch of targets to you now.”
“Understood.”
As the new target coordinates scrolled onto the main screen, Gassin didn’t need additional prompting, “Launching flying machines!”
Another sixteen of them flashed out from the pre-dug position. Another sixteen windows appeared on the screen, replacing the odd-looking aliens’ video.
“Wait a minute,” the aliens’ voice cut into the quiet hum of the control room’s operation. “Switch back to the high-altitude drone. Something’s happening.”
The main screen’s image was replaced by the previous camera looking down at enemy lines. There was a flurry of activity in the enemy base area. Numerous dots representing the ground troops moved to-and-fro. And worryingly, the red squares that surrounded enemy armor began appearing en masse as enemy Longclaws drove out of their covered positions into the open.
Dozens of them.
Then, hundreds. And more appeared every second.
“What’s going on?” Graunsa asked, his voice reflecting Motsotaer’s worry.
The alien took a minute to get back to him, its black helmeted face filling up the screen again. “They’re attacking. They don’t know what hit them in the last strike. But they must have realized that they’re not safe in their assembly area, and they’re doing the only thing they can… We estimate they’ll get to your first lines in thirty minutes.”
“Can we stop them?” Graunsa asked. “We can—”
The alien looked directly into the video. “Not sixteen drones at a time. And if you launch the whole swarm at once, it’ll reflect enough signal for them to sniff out where you are with their counter-battery radars and take you out from orbit.”
Graunsa swallowed. “That’s— that’s— The machines can fly themselves without us, right?”
The alien didn’t say anything for a few heartbeats. “Theoretically, yes. But even if you evacuate your position now, your people won’t get out of range from the orbital strike they’ll call in.”
“I understand. Feed us the enemy targets.”
“Delta Leader, we can’t ask you to—”
“I said, feed us the enemy targets,” Graunsa insisted.
Quietly, hundreds of coordinate pairs filed onto the main screen. Graunsa looked at the faces of the young officers under his command. Dozens of them. He turned around to look at his two guests. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s the right choice,” Nidvid replied, shrugging.
Motsotaer nodded at him.
“I know,” Graunsa said, turning back to the main screen. “Just doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Sir, we’re ready to launch,” Gassin reported.
“Weapons free. Release everything.”
“Yes, sir.”
The ground shook and rumbled, hundreds of flying machines leaving their canisters for the sky. They were close enough to hear the outgoing buzzing as the munitions launched. This time, more and more windows filled up the screen with the visuals of the outgoing flying machines — hundreds of them, and Motsotaer was surprised that the computers could even handle it all.
The visage of the alien returned to their screen. It said calmly, “Enemy orbital launch spotted. Multiple launches. High yield. Missiles incoming to your location, ETA twelve minutes.”
“Understood, advisor.”
POV: Slurskoch, Znosian Dominion Marines (Rank: Five Whiskers)
“Scramble! Scramble! Scramble!”
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
“What’s going on?” Longclaw Commander Slurskoch sat up in his turret cupola as the sirens rang loud through the hull.
“We’re under artillery attack!” his Controller yelled back at him through the roaring startup sequence of the turbine anti-grav engines. “The Lesser Predators… they’ve got some kind of new weapon! Took out a whole battalion’s worth of Longclaws in the 194!”
“But we’re not ready!” his Driver complained. “Our artillery is supposed to pound them for another hour before we—”
Slurskoch shook his head as he checked the friendly force tracker on his screen. “Doesn’t matter! If they’ve got some new weapon, we can’t sit still while we get pounded to bits by whatever they have. We gotta get out there. Hurry it up!”
It took them another two minutes to fully warm up the engines, and with a roar, the Longclaw burst out of its camouflaged emplacement, kicking up a curtain of dirt in front of it.
“Let’s go! Go! Go!” Slurskoch yelled as his lagging Longclaw joined the armored formation already on the move.
The Controller spoke with one of her ears in the radio, “Their artillery just launched… something at us. We’ve pinpointed their location, and orbital support is on its way.”
His Gunner whooped twice, and Slurskoch nodded silently in agreement. That’d flatten those carnivorous abominations where they stood. He drew a few symbols and circles on the digital battlemap as the Longclaws drove toward the enemy lines. “Gunner, watch those potential trench lines in front of us,” he instructed. “Their anti-armor may not look scary on paper, but their infantry can always get a lucky hit in.”
Slurskoch was taught in training that it was better to overestimate the enemy than underestimate them. Luckily, the predators usually fell below expectations, which was why the Dominion controlled the orbits of Datsot now and not them.
His Controller frowned at something in her radio, “They’re saying something about the enemy artillery… The engineers at the base assessed the strike aftermath. There’s something strange in the rubble. The attack was more precise than anything we’d ever seen.”
“What does that mean?” Slurskoch asked in confusion.
“The sensor officer in charge of the assembly area has taken full responsibility. They didn’t see the incoming at all. Higher ups are speculating that the Lesser Predators have a new weapon in their arsenal.”
“The predators made new weapons?” Slurskoch snorted. “Useful ones? That’ll be a first. Well, whatever it is, maybe our Design Bureau will get a good look at it when we finally cleanse this planet of their filth. Make our next battle a little easier when we have to take their home planet.”
His Gunner agreed, “And then, the Prophecy shall be fulfilled.”
A few kilometers into the charge across the open, the Gunner remarked with one eye on her targeting computer, “Looks like even the local winged predators know that there’s about to be a slaughter here.”
The Driver, in his open hatch, looked up at the cloud of them flying over the enemy lines. “Looks like it. A nice juicy feast for them in the coming battle. The irony of the barbaric carnivores being eaten by themselves.”
A few thousand years ago, winged predators would have curdled the blood of any natural-born Znosian. On the original plains of Znos, they were one of the most dangerous threats a lone Znosian faced. Now, that fear had been completely bred out of the gene pool, replaced with contempt for predatory primitivism, the courage to face them in battle, and the drive to exterminate them all.
Curious, Slurskoch stared up into the cloud of winged predators with his Longclaw commander optics. He frowned.
One of them shimmered.
Shimmered.
He zoomed in.
Then, he saw a metallic glint. His whiskers tightened.
“That’s— those aren’t winged predators,” he barely made out in shock. “Incoming!”
“Huh?” his Driver asked, craning his head up to look at the dark shapes in the distance.
“Get inside! Secure the hatch!” Slurskoch shouted at him.
His Driver was not very good at thinking on his own, but he had been bred to follow direct orders without question. He ducked into his seat, quickly securing the hatch above him close with trained claws.
He barely secured the Longclaw as other commanders began yelling out similar instructions on their radios.
“Incoming!” his Controller advised, about ten seconds later than necessary. “Enemy… artillery?!”
“Gunner!” Slurskoch gestured in the general direction of the sky.
“I can’t get a shot on them. They’re too high up!” she screamed back at him.
A trio of air defense vehicles next to him opened up with their six barrels towards the sky, lines of bright tracers stabbing out at the dark swarm. He saw one of the… flying machines hit and fall out of the sky. Then another.
It wasn’t enough.
As Slurskoch’s optics tracked the incoming, he saw them dive. They were fast, and they flew erratic patterns, almost organically, like actual winged beasts. If he hadn’t had that specific fear bred out of his bloodline hundreds of years ago, he would have been frozen in shock. Instead, he yelled out, “Brace! Brace!”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The world exploded around his Longclaw.
Through his friendly force tracker, Slurskoch watched an entire battalion disappear off the map on his right flank, and two Longclaws in his line of sight brewed up in massive fireballs, throwing their turrets into the sky as their plasma ammunition detonated. One of the anti-air vehicles brewed up next to his, splattering its parts against his hull.
His Driver drove for all he was worth, ducking and weaving in the open field. So did the other Longclaws. Some deployed curtains of smoke in front of them in desperation.
None of it seemed to help.
The shockwaves hit his Longclaw in quick succession, knocking him around the armored cabin and rattling his teeth.
Boom. Boom.
More Longclaws exploded. Many more. They were disappearing off his screen faster than the software could update the signals. He closed his eyes waiting for the end.
It didn’t come.
It was hard for Slurskoch to tell when the last Longclaw near them was hit. His hearing organs must have been damaged some time during the attack. His auditory senses ringed as they returned to normal, recovering when his Controller shook him with a paw on his shoulder. “—Five Whiskers! Five Whiskers!”
“What is it?” he snapped, keeping the quivering out of his voice.
“We’re alone in our company, and I can’t contact the six whiskers! And I’ve been trying to reach battalion without success!”
“Try the regiment commander!” he yelled out against the noise of the anti-grav engine.
“Can’t reach them either!”
“What about division headquarters?!”
“I think division’s gone, sir!”
“What?!”
“Nobody there has been responding. All I’ve got is a seven whiskers in the reserve infantry division behind us! They’re saying they see black smoke in the direction of our division field command!”
“What in the Prophecy? How is that possible?!”
“What do we do, Five Whiskers?”
Slurskoch had been trained for a wide variety of combat scenarios and contingencies, including losing his immediate superiors, losing most of his unit, and losing his communication link to command. But he’d never been trained for all of those combined at once. That was just not something predators were supposed to be able to do to you.
He fell back to the next best thing.
“What’s the combat computer say?” he asked.
His Controller operated the controls on her console, and after half a minute of querying, she replied, reading off the instructions, “Absent orders, continue the attack. Maybe we can push through.”
“What? Did it take our losses into account?” he protested as he checked the battlemap. Of the nearly five hundred Longclaws that had pushed out of the assembly area, only a quarter remained. At most. Some of the signals on the map were flagging themselves as mobility or mission killed.
She shrugged, “It did. That’s what it says.”
He squinted at her screen. That was indeed what it said.
Slurskoch thought for a moment, sighed, and bowed in prayer, “Our lives were forfeited the day we left our hatchling pools.”
The other crew members all did the same, lowering their heads to mutter the familiar mantra.
That ritual out of the way, he drew up to his full height of 1 meter and mustered all the confidence he could into his voice, “Attack! Attack! Attack!”
POV: Graunsa, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Delta Leader)
The command center watched glumly as the hundred or so surviving Grass Eater Longclaws emerged from the wrecks of their comrades and slowly resumed their charge across the open toward the defense lines.
The flying machines had gotten a lot of them. Quite a few disabled too. And they were disorganized from the loss of their command. Yet they still charged. Diminished as their numbers were, they rolled towards the battered defensive lines with psychotic determination.
We’ve failed.
Graunsa sat down heavily into his chair. He brought up his communication console, connecting it to the advisor network.
The alien appeared on the screen, and though he couldn’t see its face, he could hear the sympathy in its translated voice, “You’ve done all you can, Special Platoon Commander.”
“It wasn’t enough,” he said, shaking his ears sadly. “They’re going to break through our line. Our infantry can’t stop them.”
It tilted its head. “I wouldn’t count them out completely, Delta Leader. They might. They might not. But your next defensive line certainly will hold them. The city behind you will be held.”
“Tracking enemy orbit-to-ground. ETA three minutes,” Gassin reported quietly from next to him.
Graunsa sighed. He looked at the alien, “I think I understand your people now, advisor.”
“You… do?”
“Yeah, at first, when we were picked for this mission, I wondered why your people were doing this.”
“Doing this?” the alien asked, seeming confused.
“Helping us. The weapons. The equipment. The training. The targeting. It was all in secret, but you didn’t have to do it. The other species around us didn’t do it. The Schpriss…” Graunsa snorted, “The long-tails can’t even find it in their spines to send us field rations. I thought your species… your people were just generous. Or perhaps you simply enjoyed the craft of war, being so adept at it.”
“Are we… not?”
“Those reasons may be part of it,” he conceded. “But more importantly, I think your people understand one thing the other species don’t… that we might stop the enemy here. Or we might not.”
“We didn’t set you up to fail, if that’s what you think—”
“But the next defensive line certainly will hold them,” Graunsa said, staring the alien in the eye. “You will hold them. Isn’t that right?”
It sighed. “I would be lying if that wasn’t part of the strategic equation. Our star systems are indeed next in line — sometime in the next decade or two, probably — if these bloodthirsty Buns conquered your Federation. That harsh astropolitical realism. But there’s something else too.”
“Is there?”
“Yes,” it nodded its head firmly in a familiar manner. “Yes, there is. We aren’t a particularly long-sighted species, Graunsa. We can plan, yes, but wars are fought by true believers. People don’t sign up to put their lives on the line for a hypothetical, potential invasion of our Republic twenty years in the future. They— we signed up for this because we truly believe what’s happening to your people… it shouldn’t happen to anyone, ever.”
Graunsa looked at the helmeted head for a while, then nodded. “I believe you, advisor.”
“I’m sorry this didn’t pan out, Graunsa. If I could, I’d be down there with you. We’d have made them pay for this.”
Graunsa smiled. “I believe you about that too. Thank you, advisor, whatever your name is.”
“You may call me Kara,” it said simply. A deft snap of its paws — he hadn’t noticed how soft its claws were before — and it released a latch on its helmet with a hiss. Lifting it from its head, it revealed a soft, smooth face without much fur except a bundle of long, brown strands on its scalp tied up in a neat spherical shape. Its hazel forward-facing eyes stared at him with the empathy that only other predators were capable of, filling him with mild relief. “Don’t tell anyone though,” it joked lightly, mirroring his smile back at him.
You’re not as ugly as I thought you’d be. Not nearly.
Graunsa’s grin widened at the thought. He put it out of his mind. “Ah. One last thing, advisor— Kara.”
“Yes?”
His mind drifted to his cubs at home. Perhaps they were still alive. He chose to believe that. “Our people’s clans and packs…”
“We’ll let them know,” she interrupted him softly. “And when the information quarantine is lifted, we’ll let your clans and packs know what you did here — everything.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Gassin sat down next to him, “Delta Leader, enemy missiles incoming. ETA thirty seconds, they’re entering—” She stopped her report and stared at the unmasked alien on his screen with equal parts wonder and sadness.
“Take a closer look, Gassin,” he ordered softly. “That… that is who will avenge us.”
On screen, the alien put its gloved paw up to its temple, forming a stiff triangle with its arm in a recognizable salute. “It was an honor, Graunsa.”
Graunsa returned it crisply, letting a primitive fire shine through his face. “Happy hunting, Kara.”

Location: Atlas Naval Command, Luna

POV: “Kara”, Terran Reconnaissance Office
Kara watched solemnly as the green signal blinked off the battlemap. She closed her eyes for a moment in silent prayer for the fallen.
Beep. Beep.
Another light on her console blinked urgently for her attention. Four thousand kilometers from the previous one. The war raged on — day and night — across four continents on the besieged planet. Fifty light years from the Republic, its defenders’ sweat, tears, and blood lined the fields and valleys of the beautiful blue sphere not so different from her own. Tens of millions of them: many who she knew would not see the end of this war.
They didn’t all know it, and some might not have cared, but fifty light years away, someone recorded their names, and someone felt a pang of loss for their sacrifice. In the cold, dark forest of the galaxy, somebody heard their trees fall.
Kara collected her thoughts, adjusted the bun in her hair, and lowered the tinted EVA helmet over her face once more.
She cleared her throat as she glanced at the screen and activated the microphone in her helmet, “Special Platoon Commander Treiriu. This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”

Meta

Thanks for reading my story! This is a standalone chapter in my Grass Eaters story, meant to be enjoyable all on its own. If you're interested in more of my writing, please do subscribe to the update waffle bot or check out the rest of the universe in Grass Eaters.
(Grass Eaters posts every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We are closing in on the end of Book 1.)

This post contains spoilers from CS1-Reverie, including Reverie’s post-game content.
Disclaimer: The analysis portion of the Background section contains discussion of mental illness. I am not an expert in mental health, or any health field for that matter. I’m just a guy applying his own perception, lived experiences, and surface-level knowledge to interpreting Rean’s arc. I probably don’t even need to be making this disclaimer, but I felt like it.
Last year, I made this post asking how the members of this sub felt about Cold Steel’s protagonist: the one and only Rean Schwarzer. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of engagement it got, as well as the diversity of opinion expressed in the comments. There were those who loved him, those who were neutral on him, and a few who just couldn’t stand him. At the time, I had just finished CS2, so there was a ton about Rean I wasn’t privy to. However, now that I’ve played Reverie and am fully caught up with the first half of the series, I have a much fuller picture of him. Since so many of you were kind enough to offer up your takes on Rean back then, I figured I’d express my own thoughts on him in the form of a proper analysis. Without further ado, let’s begin!

Background

Rean Schwarzer (born Rean Osborne) is the main protagonist of Trails of Cold Steel I, II, III, and IV, as well as one of the three main protagonists of Trails into Reverie. He was born in S.1187 to Erebonian commoners Brigadier General Giliath and Kasia Osborne. Rean’s father was a brilliant leader and strategist, but his commoner status made him an enemy of the military’s nobles. This led to Giliath’s home being attacked by jaegers when Rean was five, resulting in Kasia’s death and Rean’s heart being punctured by shrapnel. In a desperate bid to save his son’s life, Giliath made a deal with Ishmelga, the Ebon Knight, to become its Awakener and used its power to transplant his own heart into Rean’s body. Due to his deal with Ishmelga, Giliath was forced to give up custody of Rean, entrusting him to the care of Baron Teo Schwarzer. As a result, “Rean Osborne,” the son of a commoner military officer, became “Rean Schwarzer,” the adopted son of a minor noble family.
Although Rean’s new family was loving and supportive, his new life was not without struggle. The boy’s sudden, mysterious appearance in the Schwarzer household made the family - particularly Teo - the subject of gossip and controversy among other nobles. Some believed Rean was Teo’s illegitimate child, while others openly lambasted Teo for his willingness to potentially allow a commoner into the nobility’s ranks. Teo essentially became an outcast among his noble peers, his family’s name tarnished by rumor. Rean, for his part, came to believe he was at fault for this situation, and the subsequent guilt would plague him for many years.
Rean’s self-worth was further challenged by another, more personal problem that arose during his childhood. At age nine, Rean watched an unknown monster attack his younger sister, Elise, and the stress caused an innate “ogre power” within him to manifest. Rean fell into a blind rage, savagely killing the monster. When he returned to his senses, Rean was traumatized by the scene he had left behind, and by the discovery of this new, violent side of him he could not control.
Two years later, Rean became an apprentice of the legendary swordsman Yun Ka-fai, founder of the Eight Leaves One Blade school, hoping to learn how to control his ogre powers. Despite showing great promise as a swordsman, Rean was unable to develop control over his ogre power, and Yun was eventually forced to cut short Rean’s training for unrelated reasons. Although the beginner-rank Rean continued to train on his own, the damage to his psyche was too deep-seated for him to fix alone. He believed he was nothing but a burden and a monster, undeserving of love or happiness. This guilt and self-loathing spurred him to always put others’ needs and well-being above his own, believing himself less important than anyone else. This self-sacrificial behavior became a recurring problem for Rean over the course of his adolescence and early adulthood.
In S.1204, at age 17, Rean enrolled at the prestigious Thors Military Academy in eastern Erebonia. He, along with eight others, became part of Class VII, Thors’s first socially integrated graduating class. Although he still struggled with low self-worth, Rean thrived in this new environment, quickly befriending his classmates and discovering his natural-born ability as a leader. By this time, Rean’s real father, Giliath Osborne, had become Chancellor of Erebonia and was being targeted for death by the Imperial Liberation Front - an anti-Osborne terrorist group. The ILF was a recurring presence in Class VII’s lives during their first school year, and the two groups clashed frequently. At the end of the year, Rean’s life took a dramatic turn when he unexpectedly became the Awakener for the Divine Knight Valimar before watching the ILF - led by his friend Crow Armbrust - seemingly assassinate Osborne and spark a nationwide civil war. Thors came under siege by Crow shortly thereafter, and in the chaos, Rean was forcibly separated from his classmates.
One month later, Rean awoke in the Eisengard Mountain Range outside his adopted hometown, Ymir. Now armed with Valimar’s power, Rean rendezvoused with his family and set out to reunite Class VII. Although he succeeded, Rean was later captured by the Noble Alliance and was held captive alongside Erebonian princess Alfin Reise Arnor. With Alfin’s encouragement, Rean freed the two of them using his ogre powers and rejoined Class VII onboard the imperial family’s airship Courageous. Thanks to Alfin and his bond with his classmates, Rean learned to stop fearing his ogre powers and started opening up more to those closest to him. Using the Courageous, Class VII successfully led a mission to retake Thors before ultimately confronting the Noble Alliance’s leader, Duke Cayenne, and stopping his plan to use the Infernal Castle to win the war. At the same time, new drama entered Rean’s life: Shortly after stopping Duke Cayenne’s plan, Crow unexpectedly died and Osborne was revealed to still be alive - and Rean’s real father. Rean, for his part, was formally recognized by the imperial government for his role in ending the war and became a national hero. This was, however, merely a ploy to pressure Rean into obeying Osborne’s wishes, and it succeeded, as Rean subsequently became an operative in Erebonia’s conquest of Crossbell. It was during this time that he became acquainted with Crossbell Special Support Section leader Lloyd Bannings.After Crossbell’s annexation, Rean fought in the Northern War, which resulted in Erebonia annexing North Ambria. He partook in the siege of Haliask, where he fought archaisms using Valimar. During this stretch of the war, Rean lost control of his ogre powers and was rendered unconscious for three days. As a result, he once again lost faith in his ability to control himself, and swore off the use of his ogre power.
In April S.1206, roughly 1.5 years after the civil war’s end, Rean started a job as instructor of a “new Class VII” at Thors’s new branch campus in western Erebonia. At the branch campus, Rean bonded with his students and fellow faculty while also taking on assignments from the imperial government. It was also during this time that Osborne’s plan to trigger the Great Twilight started unfolding, causing Rean, his students, and his comrades to regularly butt heads with jaegers, Ouroboros, and powerful cryptids. Ultimately, however, Osborne outmaneuvered all attempts by Rean, Olivert, and others to stop him; the Courageous was destroyed by a bomb with Olivert still onboard, Rean’s forces were spread thin through various battles, and Rean himself was forced to watch as Millium Orion was killed and turned into a Sword of the End. Finally at his wit’s end, Rean suffered a mental breakdown and was consumed by his ogre powers, causing him to violently trigger the Great Twilight himself before being taken captive by Osborne and Ishmelga.
After a short period of captivity, Rean was freed by Class VII and their allies. He, along with the SSS and the Liberl Bracer Guild, declined to become part of Musse Egret’s Operation Mille Mirage, instead choosing to oppose Osborne their own way. Rean, as Valimar’s Awakener, decided to partake in the Rivalries to reform the Great One, in hopes of defeating Ishmelga’s curse. He gradually defeated and absorbed power from the other Awakeners until, finally, during Operation Jormungandr, he defeated Osborne and Ishmelga, becoming the pilot of a corrupted Great One. It is at this time when two different futures unfolded: In one, Rean flew the Great One beyond Zemuria’s atmosphere to remove Ishmelga from the continent. In the other, Rean used the power of the Holy Beast of Earth to give Ishmelga’s curse a corporeal form, allowing him and his friends to destroy it. It was this latter future that became Zemuria’s reality, while the former remained hypothetical and unrealized.
Many months after Ishmelga’s defeat, in S.1207, Rean became involved in the incident involving Crossbell and Elysium. While combating enemy forces in the Nord Highlands, Rean started undergoing assimilation with Ishmelga-Rean, an alternate version of himself created by Elysium based on the unrealized timeline from when Ishmelga was first beaten. Later, during the final confrontation with Ishmelga-Rean, the real Rean saw visions of his other self’s sacrifice and finally grasped the devastating effects his past martyr-like behavior had on those he loved. He vowed to make a change before eliminating Ishmelga-Rean, stopping the assimilation.
Sometime after the clash with Elysium, Rean visited Longlai in eastern Calvard with his family, secretly hoping to track down Yun while there. Instead, he encountered members of the Ikaruga jaeger corps, who informed him that Yun was not in Longlai before departing. Rean has since contented himself with his current life as a Thors instructor, sensing that the next incident to befall Zemuria will involve not him, but an entirely different group of heroes.
Analysis: From even a cursory glance at Rean’s story, it is clear he endured much distress and trauma at a young age, and in my view, the result was deep-seated mental illness - namely depression. I am not a psychologist, but I would wager that the violent manner in which his five year-old self lost his home, his mother, and, almost, his own life, was horrific enough for his mind to block all memory of that period as a defense mechanism. This would help explain how Rean did not remember his real parentage until his encounter with Osborne in CS2 jogged his memory. Further stressing Rean were the controversies surrounding his adoption, which were not at all his fault but still interpreted as such by him, and the sudden, gory manner in which he learned of his ogre power. With such a potent combination of stressors burdening his young mind, it is no surprise to me that it took Rean such a long time to overcome his feelings of guilt and worthlessness. He was saddled with depression during the most formative period of his life, and like any mental illness, depression cannot be overcome with just one or two instances of positive reinforcement. It is often something people have to live with for many years, with periods of relative difficulty and relative ease. Looking at it this way, it makes sense for Rean’s arc to have taken as long as it did.
Side note: Obviously, Rean’s story is not the most realistic depiction of depression in fiction, but the manner in which it unfolds and is presented is still enough for me to take it seriously as a journey of struggling with mental health. When Rean receives support or encouragement from his friends and family, it helps in the short-term, but does little to erode the larger problem because that simply isn’t enough. Further, Rean’s progress is not linear, but is marked with occasional setbacks: In CS2, he finally learns to stop fearing his ogre power, but in CS3, we see that he is still vulnerable to losing control of it, and he does so during the Northern War and in the finale of that game. He receives a pendant (“meds?”) and training (“therapy?”) to control said power in CS3, but he still struggles with it. In CS4’s “bad” ending, even after everything he has gone through, Rean falls back into his old habits of self-sacrifice, because that’s how “baked-in” his problems are; he doesn’t even see the issue because he’s lived that way for so long. It is CS3’s finale that is the most striking part of Rean’s journey to me: In my eyes, it is the same as Rean having a mental breakdown, too overcome by his own emotional turmoil to control himself. He becomes consumed by his own demons, literally and figuratively, and it takes the collective effort of his loved ones in CS4 to bring him back to stability.
It is also fitting that Rean’s big turning point - the moment in Reverie where he sees the pain his martyr-esque behavior causes others - is as dramatic as the instances that facilitated Rean’s internal struggle to begin with. What I particularly appreciate about this chunk of Rean’s arc is that it is presented as Rean finally realizing the change he needs to make, rather than him being instantly cured of his ailments. It is simply him resolving to change his outlook on himself and his relationships, and that feels more grounded to me than any alternative route the writers could have taken.

Personality

Rean is a kind, courageous, selfless individual who greatly cares about those around him. Despite his own low self-esteem, he is a gifted speaker and possesses the spirit of a natural-born leader. It is this charisma that quickly made him the de facto leader of Class VII, as he often served as an intermediary for the interpersonal clashes between his other classmates (see: Machias/Jusis and Fie/Laura). He often goes out of his way to help his peers solve problems or make their lives easier. This behavior is propelled by his own feelings of worthlessness, which causes his generosity to often escalate to self-sacrificial activity. On the occasions when Rean is unable to help someone, he often feels guilty, even if the problem at hand was not his fault or was out of his control (examples include his inability to stop Vulcan and Crow from dying in CS2).
Rean is also extraordinarily perceptive thanks to his Unclouded Eye technique, which he learned from Yun Ka-fai. This allows him to set aside any preconceived notions or prejudices he may have and accurately discern a person’s true nature. His training also allows him to notice things others may not, such as objects moving at high speed or unseen people/creatures in his vicinity. At the same time, there are things he struggles to pick up on, namely when it comes to others’ feelings regarding him. Rean often fumbles when it comes to romantic/intimate interactions with the girls in his life, either unintentionally flustering them or failing to understand how deep their feelings run. Rean also fails to understand how his martyr behavior hurts those he cares about, despite numerous incidents ending with people refusing to abandon him and calling him out for perceived recklessness.
Analysis: One thing I’ve always appreciated about Rean is that, despite his serious personal problems, he never comes off as whiny, annoying, cringe, etc. He knows how to compartmentalize and portray an air of confidence and amicability; I would attribute this to his noble upbringing, as we see similar behavior in other noble characters like Laura and Jusis. His natural ability as a speaker and leader are reminiscent of Osborne’s, as is his penchant for self-sacrificial behavior; Osborne was, after all, willing to bond with Ishmelga, literally give his heart to his son, and turn himself into a villain for the sake of his people.
There are considerable differences between Rean and the three protagonists who preceded him. He is almost the antithesis of Estelle: She is lively, spontaneous, and unafraid to open up to others emotionally, Rean is more reserved and measured, and is initially guarded, though he does learn to express himself over time. While he does share similar backstory details to Kevin, their outward personalities are starkly different, with Kevin being suave and laid-back and Rean being more serious and passive. As for Lloyd, while Rean does share his kindness, perception, and leadership ability, the two do have their differences as well. Lloyd’s arc is about starting from nothing and overcoming barriers, gaining strength along the way. He is driven by a commitment to justice and a zealous patriotic spirit. Rean, on the other hand, starts out with great power at a young age but struggles to control it, making his journey more internal and personal than Lloyd’s. Additionally, his fighting spirit comes not from burning passion, but from steely nerve and trust in his companions. And, of course, he is not morally gray like his successor, Van.

Relationships

Due to the sheer number of people Rean becomes involved with, I will only address his more notable relationships. Many will be in clusters, with only a select few individuals receiving their own entries.

• Old Class VII: Old Class VII is Rean’s core friend group through the entire Cold Steel arc. They are the ones who fight by his side during the arc’s major events, including the Erebonian civil war, the Great Twilight, and more. Although Emma Millstein was class president during their student years, Rean gradually becomes Old Class VII’s’ de facto leader in the field due to his good rapport with all its members and his role in helping them bond with each other. By the end of CS1, he is very much the proverbial glue that holds Old Class VII together, and Rean executes this role flawlessly in CS2 by bringing their scattered members back together again. Despite his love for his classmates, Rean largely hesitates to seek them out for emotional support due to his low self-worth, and it isn’t until he sees their heartbroken reactions to his “death” in Reverie when he realizes how much he means to them.
• New Class VII: Rean is New Class VII’s teacher at Thors’s branch campus starting in CS3. Over the course of the game and its sequels, he forms a unique bond with each of his five students: A father-like figure for Altina, a tough-love mentor for Ash, a source of confidence for Kurt, a role model for Juna and… uh… maybe I shouldn’t discuss Musse. Anyway, the wisdom Rean imparts on New Class VII helps them all mature into capable young adults, particularly Juna, who essentially fills Rean’s shoes in CS4 Chapter 1 and leads the charge to rescue him from Osborne.
• Schwarzer family: Rean’s adopted parents and sister. Rean cares deeply about the Schwarzers, to the point where seeing them being physically threatened causes his ogre powers to manifest uncontrollably in CS1-2. At the same time, despite having the Schwarzer’s unconditional love and support, Rean feels like a significant burden to them for much of his young life, particularly to Teo. This matter is eventually settled by the end of CS2. There is also the matter of Elise, his younger sister, who develops feelings for him as they age (writing that did not sit well with me at all, but the show must go on…). Rean, for his part, is exceptionally protective of Elise until she finally rebuffs this part of him in Reverie, arguing that she is strong enough to take care of herself.
• Crow Armbrust: If any one member of Class VII, new or old, deserves an individual mention, it is unquestionably Crow. Crow and Rean share a unique, dynamic relationship that evolves considerably over the four Cold Steel games. In the beginning, Crow is Rean’s rival and superior in many ways. He is older, more cunning, and a stronger Awakener than Rean (at least when piloting Ordine). But over time, Rean gains strength and confidence, which allows him to beat Crow in CS2, and then defeat him again in CS4, at which point he essentially becomes Crow's lord and retainer by sparing his life.
  • The two are very much foils for one another, with similarities and differences: Both are young men who are descended from political leaders (who were themselves bitter enemies). Both are Awakeners guided by witches - Crow by the mighty Vita and Rean by the fledgling Emma and Celine. At the same time they are almost total opposites as people, with Crow being cocky, deceptive, and rebellious, while Rean is modest, honest, and upstanding. Even their hair colors contrast! In that sense, Crow also serves as a benchmark for Rean's growth, as their relationship roles essentially switch in CS4, with Rean gaining dominance over Crow.
• Yun Ka-fai: Because there is still much mystery surrounding Yun Ka-fai, it is difficult to dissect him in the context of this write-up. However, we do know that Rean was Yun's last discipline - the last of four. Rean also receives correspondence from Yun at various points in the story, largely to give life updates and confer higher ranks onto Rean (Is this the Trails equivalent of Zoom classes? No, wait, they have actual tech for that…). From the content of his letters, Yun seems to think highly of Rean as both a person and a swordsman. Despite not being present for Rean's final few years of training, Yun understands Rean's journey intimately, to the point where he feels comfortable making Rean a Divine Blade through a proxy in CS4. This begs questions: How does Yun know so much? Does he possess some form of the Unclouded Eye that lets him detect such things in his students? Is he basically Yoda? Or is someone watching Rean on Yun's behalf? Furthermore, in his letter to Rean in CS3, he says he will impart his final teachings onto Rean “when” they meet again. This might be reading too much into it, but Yun seems quite confident he will see Rean again. My guess is that Yun has something planned, if not for Rean, then for all of his disciples. And I suspect that that plan was part of why Yun chose to promote Rean to Divine Blade when he did. The timing, right before the final battle at the Duatha de Danann, is too convenient for me to ignore. Either Yun wanted to help Rean reach peak form in time, or he had some other motive. Or both.
• Giliath Osborne: Osborne is Rean's biological father. Despite coming off as callous at first, it becomes clear in CS4 and Reverie that Osborne truly loved his son and was willing to sacrifice everything for him, including his heart (literally) and his humanity. Rean inherited a number of traits from Osborne, including his charisma, leadership ability, flawed selflessness, and strength of spirit. The two share an innate need to put others’ happiness over their own, albeit for different reasons, and both suffered in silence for years because of it. This is part of why, despite having the same goal, Rean and Osborne both fought each other with all they had during the final Rivalry: Neither wanted to see the other inherit the curse's full power, Osborne because he didn't want to see Rean suffer any longer and Rean because he essentially accepted that he was the curse's Sacrifice. After CS4, Rean learns more about Osborne's inner thoughts and motives, developing a deep admiration for his father and a desire to make his sacrifice worthwhile.
• Lloyd Bannings: Lloyd and Rean are quite comparable. They are the main protagonists of their respective arcs, both are leaders in their own right, both embody aspects of the “dense male protagonist” trope, and both are overall kind, perceptive (outside of romance), overall heroic young men. But like Crow, Lloyd is a foil for Rean, and this is apparent from their very first meeting, in CS2's Divertissement. Lloyd and Rean's circumstances were polar opposites: Lloyd was a vigilante, relegated to the shadows, with only a skeleton crew for support, while Rean was an Erebonian national hero with a Divine Knight and the full power of his country behind him. At the same time, Rean had no agency during this time, as he had been manipulated by Osborne into accepting such status and becoming part of a reprehensible operation. Lloyd, on the other hand, was a free agent, uncompromising in his ideals and fighting tirelessly for true justice. In short, Lloyd was powerless but free, while Rean was powerful but trapped. In that moment, it is obvious that Rean respected Lloyd's convictions and may have even envied him. Fortunately for the two, they find themselves on the same side in CS4 and a proper friendship between the two forms.
• Patrick Hyarms: Patrick and Rean’s relationship had an uneasy start. Although Patrick initially tried to ingratiate himself with Rean, he was rebuffed due to his elitist attitude towards commoners and other non-nobles. Patrick was quick to change his disposition towards Rean, treating him with disgust due to his unknown origins and lack of noble blood. After being humiliated by Rean and the other non-noble men of Class VII, Patrick starts to reassess his mindset and eventually becomes more accepting of non-nobles. This, in turn, leads to Rean and Patrick becoming friends, and in CS3, the two are shown to be trusted partners in certain areas. The friendship is somewhat complicated by Patrick’s romantic interest in Elise, of whom Rean is especially protective.

Future

As a main series protagonist, Rean is basically guaranteed to return in a future game. Whether or not he will be playable or have a significant role in said game is difficult to ascertain, but given his lengthy period of stardom in the Cold Steel games and Trails’s treatment of other past protagonists, my guess is that he will take more of a side role. Since Rean was looking for Yun Ka-fai after Reverie, and Yun is set to appear in Kai no Kiseki, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Rean in that game at all - at least in flashback form. Failing that, Rean will surely appear in or close to the series finale. Of this I am certain.

Misc. Notes/Commentary

• Funnily enough, Rean’s final struggle with his powers in CS3-4 reminds me somewhat of the finale of Steven Universe Future, which similarly ends with the protagonist losing control of his powers and turning into a raging monster. It is only through the love and reassurance of Steven’s friends and family that he is able to return to normal, and like Rean, he is not necessarily “cured” of anything; he simply has a newfound resolve to get better.
• For those curious: I did not include discussion of Rean’s “harem” in this analysis because I do not see it as a core part of his character. The dating sim aspect of the Cold Steel games is just a silly fanservice gimmick and has no bearing on Rean’s growth or development. While it might have indirectly limited the interpersonal relationships the female characters of CS could form with other males, it did not have a similar effect on Rean.
  • Ftr, I romanced Alisa in CS2 and Sara in CS4.
• Rean’s two big “power of friendship” moments in the series - unlocking Spirit Unification in CS2’s Intermission and snapping out of his ogre rage in CS4’s Fragments chapter - both involve him being faced with a golden crystal which symbolizes his many loving relationships. This is a minor detail, but I do appreciate the parallels at work here.

27/28. Batgirl Begins - 4/5 (Starting this in medias res was a good choice, since if you're already familiar with Batman stuff, you know Barbara was gonna become Batgirl in this (and even if you don't, the title would reveal as much). So starting with a Poison Ivy fight made me more curious to see everything that lead up to it was opposed to just waiting for the "reveal" that Barbara becomes Batgirl and Pamela becomes Poison Ivy. Plus, Barbara's snarky narration was amusing. Introducing Batgirl as Batman's first sidekick (even if this was merely due to a stupid embargo) as well as making Poison Ivy be her best friend turned arch nemesis is pretty fun because of its uniqueness alone. Especially because it makes the stakes more interesting when Ivy has a personal grudge against Gordon. And I liked Batman's "not every child gets the opportunity to rescue their parent" comment. Yeah, it's cliché, but that stuff is the core of Batman, so it's nice to see this side of him acknowledged, since it rarely is in this series. Also, making Gordon not able to recognize Batgirl as Barbara because he wasn't wearing his glasses was pretty "clever". "Clever" in quotations because it's still dumb, but since most DC shows love to sell you on the idea that people cannot recognize each other's face by simply putting a mask on the top half, it's funny that this series bothered to give an explanation at all. He should still have recognized her voice, but you can't win 'em all.)
29. A Dark Knight to Remember - 3/5 (Freezing Poison Ivy in the previous episode, then defeating the Kabuki Twins by freezing them in this as well? Batman is becoming Mr. Freeze. Anyway, here's a pretty standard amnesia cartoon episode. Decent gimmick, and they also added a stock Secret Identity Almost Discovered:tm: plot to spice things up. The circumstances of Bruce's amnesia being the perfect cover for Barbara dropping the idea that he could be Batman is fun, but Bruce's actual amnesia is just cartoonishly illogical. Even if he lost memories of his last few years as the Batman, how would that also genuinely make him a self absorbed playboy? He was always a broody guy with a heart of gold, even before donning the cape and cowl.)
30. A Fistful of Felt - 3/5 (This is just a poor man's Double Talk. It treads the exact same stuff; Wesker is cured of Scarface so he lives a peaceful life before Scarface forcibly reappears at the hands of someone trying to bait him and he succumbs to it before Batman eventually confronts him and Scarface gets destroyed. Except this is way less substantial and lacking in drama and emotion. It's a shame, because during the group therapy scene, I was excited that this could potentially be a formula bender, having it take place entirely in Arkham Asylum and focusing on Wesker's recovery process. But then I remembered this is The Batman, so yeah. Also I HATE Snooty's design!)
31. RPM - 2/5 (Wow, after seeing this, I immediately went out and bought The Batman Batmobile #2 with working lights & sounds, firing disc launcher and opening cockpit! No, but really, did I actually just watch a toy commercial for 20 minutes? I get that that's where action cartoons make their profit, and that's fine, but this was so blatant it's not even funny. Like that scene of Batman arriving in his new CGI Batmobile as the camera spins around it. Give me a break. Not to imply the writers were being hacky or anything. It was clearly an executive mandate. They just wrote a lame episode around it. Gearhead wasn't very interesting, although it's cool he was voiced by Will Friedle I guess. And the episode is just about cars, a subject I do not find interesting. I did laugh at Barbara asking Gordon "taking the car?" and he just opens the door and stares at her.)
32. Brawn - 4/5 (At this point they should rename the series "The Batgirl" since most episodes now put her in the main role, having to save Batman's butt. Not a complaint, it's a nice change of pace from the repetitive Batman Stops Villain:tm: plots. This episode is pretty darn good though, which is surprising since it's really nothing but a long fight scene. Most of it consecutively takes place in real time on one street street as they duke it out. You'd think that would get boring, but Bane-ified Joker is a cool enough concept to genuinely carry enough entertainment value on its own. And Batgirl using the Batbot was fun.)
33. The Laughing Cats - 4/5 (Two Joker episodes in a row? Also a Catwoman episode, which... Yeah, Joker being in it was obviously an improvement. Making her team up with Batman to stop Joker was more interesting than had it been about Batman stopping another one of her generic jewel thefts. Them being stuck in a maze with Joker using their gadgets was fun, and I liked that his hyenas were not loyal to him at all, LOL. As a side note, Kilgore Steed's hunter schtick makes NO sense. Capturing animals to put them in a giant maze full of traps that will just automatically kill them is not much of a "hunt".)
34. Fleurs du Mal - 3/5 (I guess the show isn't going to acknowledge any drama between Barbara and Poison Ivy and she's immediately relegated to stock villain who does her villainous schtick and gets defeated? Clayface all over again. It also wasn't much of a mystery who the villain could be since it literally begins with the mayor being taken over by flowers. The characters themselves uncovering the mystery and battling the plant replicas was neat enough, so whatever. And Batman punching an old lady was funny. I don't understand why Poison Ivy replaced Penguin, though. She's replacing the people who control Gotham, and he's a washed up nobody who's lost his fortune. Also, Batman is lucky he only fought the plant replica or he would have killed Penguin. He fell right into spinning blades which clearly shredded him... Although he's still intact when they land, so I guess logic took a break for this scene. Side note, the show is getting WAY too reliant on ending with a zoomout of Batman and Batgirl as she makes some snappy comment.)
35. Cash for Toys - 2/5 (So Cash can return but not Yin? There is no justice in this world. He wasn't funny in his first appearance, and he's...slightly less unfunny here. So yeah. Add a straight up Toyman ripoff instead of just Toyman, for some reason, and you get a pretty lame episode. I get that he's a Superman villain, but the series didn't have a problem using Solomon Grundy, so Toyman shouldn't have been off the table. You could assume they just embargo'd him because he made cameos, albeit speechless, in JLU. But then, Grundy was the main focus of a JLU episode less than a year before Grundy's Night, so this doesn't add up! Not that Krank being called Toyman would make a difference, because I still wouldn't like him. So, YEAH.)
36. The Apprentice - 4/5 (Joker getting a sidekick is definitely a fun idea, and while I obviously liked this episode, it plays out exactly how you'd expect. I liked how wholesome Joker was to Donnie at first when he was brainstorming ideas and then turned grim when Donnie didn't want to hurt people. It definitely adds at least one more layer than the average Joker Shenanigans:tm: episode. You can definitely feel how genuinely scary it would be to simply be around this lunatic, especially if he has it out for you. Also, Donnie's jokes probably doesn't get laughs because he's in high school doing kindergarten tier jokes.)
37. Thunder - 3/5 (It's Maxie Zeus, the most iconic DC character of all time, doing his typical Olympus schtick. Yeah, so, the episode isn't really about him. His scheme is just a setup to show how well Batgirl can carry herself. And in that aspect, I do find it fun. It's a bit dumb that she yaps to Batman about how she wants to be in the loop though, as if she isn't just Batgirling of her own accord. He never agreed to be a team, she just stalks him. Side note, Gordon sternly correcting Grange with "batarang" made me chuckle.)
38. The Icy Depths - 4/5 (Despite being the umpteenth episode about stealing jewels, this was refreshing due to presenting it more as an actual mystery and having two villains, alongside Alfred and his old chum, trying to uncover it. It was fun how they all got the upper hand on one another, and I always like Alfred being involved in an adventure. I don't understand why Batman even needs to stop this "crime", though. The treasure doesn't belong to anyone anymore. And if it DOES rightfully belong to someone, that would be Penguin. What was up with a random rotating shot of the boat here though?)
39. Gotham's Ultimate Criminal Mastermind - 3/5 (Mr. Freeze's Arkham number is 800B5. I bet they thought they were really funny with that one. Unlike the previous BTAS ripoff episodes, this was only vaguely a ripoff of Heart of Steel, so I'll cut it some slack. But it's pretty thin. D.A.V.E. is just super smart and wants to defeat Batman, then Batman wins by just telling him something that does not compute. I guess it's neat that they finally built on those vague hints about Hugo Strange being "evil". It's just a shame the antagonist is merely his robot, not actually him. And why does he get locked in Arkham after being caught? He's not insane.)
40. A Matter of Family - 3/5 (Who sharpened Bruce's jaw?! Also, Mark Hamill and Kevin Conroy. As for the actual episode, I was underwhelmed. It's a pretty straightforward telling of Robin's origin story, but it rushes the emotional moments and doesn't let them get too "heavy", which makes them less effective. Zucco is a pretty upfront mustache-twirling villain instead of a mysterious figure, and they don't really acknowledge how devastating such an event would be, or the awkwardness of immediately being adopted by a rando. Dick just gets some watery eyes then he's instantly comfortable at Wayne Manor. But I liked tying "Robin" into something his mom used to call him. Batman speaks with a much deeper voice in this episode. Must've come with the new jaw.)
41. Team Penguin - 4/5 (Did it really take seeing teamwork in a movie for Penguin spawn the brilliantly unique plan of "more villains = harder for Batman"? This was a fun teamup, though. I'm glad they didn't go for the obvious choices like Joker, Mr. Freeze, Riddler etc and instead opted for the "misfits". Croc is the only one of the group I didn't care for. But I liked seeing Ragdoll again, and Killer Moth was pretty funny. I liked that he remained a suckup even after being horribly mutated. I liked the theme of teamwork the episode had, since it ties nicely together with the valid jealousy Barbara would have for some rando in red becoming Batman's sidekick and knowing his identity when she has been wanting that for ages. Also, Robin immediately wailing on Penguin for calling him a lackey made me laugh.)
42. Clayfaces - 4/5 (Nice to see my buddy Bennett again. Guess they wanted to redeem themselves after the nonsense they pulled with Grundy's Night. But given this is his last appearance, this was a pretty unsatisfying "arc". Him going full-blown villain didn't make sense from the start. His desire to take revenge on Joker I get, but aside from that, it shouldn't have taken him THIS long to realize he should use his powers for good instead. Basil Karlo wasn't a super compelling character or anything, but him being an ugly dweeb was quite funny, and the spectacle of two Clayfaces duking it out more than makes up for it, because that was pretty awesome. Side note, why is this company so picky with who they cast in their fricking dog food commercial? It's dog food. Just show dogs.)
43. The Everywhere Man - 3/5 (I like the concept of the Everywhere Man, but was disappointed at how little they truly utilized it for story/action potential. The first half is just a mystery where you're supposed to think it's two guys (provided you did not read the episode title), then Johnny just expositions how his powers work and Batman fights a bunch of copies. The villain himself being a copy is a cool twist, but it would've been more interesting if the copies mostly worked as a hivemind and they utilized that to make fighting them really hard for Batman since they'd be such a perfectly synchronized army. The episode wrapping itself around some girl saying Johnny was cuter as a nerd, and then the real Johnny getting the girl in the end was so random it's almost hilarious.)
44. The Breakout - 4/5 (Black Mask being in this episode is pretty neat, as he is a fairly well-known character who, despite that, doesn't seem to appear in animation a lot. That said, he was not very compelling. He's just a stern, no-nonsense mob boss. Which for the plot of this episode is all he needs to be, so I won't give him flack for that. It's a fun change of pace to have a mostly Batman-free episode with focus on his sidekicks instead. Batgirl and Robin have a pretty charming dynamic; I liked when they guessed what Black Mask's face looks like and he got pissed off. LOL. And it was interesting how it's sort of a bottle episode, with most of it taking place within the police station as they try to prevent Black Mask's militia from breaking in. Batman ending the episode by telling them to wash the Batmobile was a certified LOL.)
45. Strange New World - 5/5 (This was great. I really like Hugo Strange, so it's fun to actually see his sinister side now that he's been outed as a villain. And while at first it felt mostly like a standard zombie story, the dramaic tone and hellish visuals, alongside the crazy ways the zombies jump around, made the whole thing a pleasure to look at. But the twist is what really got me. I didn't put it all together myself until right as Batman was figuring it out, and it really made all the scenes of him fighting zombie Batgirl/Robin/Gordon amusing to think about in retrospect. That said, isn't this a Scarecrow-tier scheme? I guess since he couldn't be in this show they just gave it to Strange.)
46. Artifacts - 3/5 (For an entire episode set in the future, I was expecting more than just the spectacle of a generic Mr. Freeze battle. But that's really all there is to it. That said, I liked the W I D E Batman design. I know it's an homage to The Dark Knight Returns, but I've never seen or read that, so yeah. Mr. Freeze blatantly saying that title after seeing the Batman was so funny, though. It works contextually, but when you know the reference it felt no different than if he had said "Batman: The Animated Series". LOL. I see Barbara will go the Oracle route in this show. Sad. Also, they can blatantly reference Bennett and Yin, but refuse to show them any further regardless? Screw. You.)
47. Seconds - 4/5 (The Batman's take on Clock King? He's not officially named as such, but it's pretty much a Cosmo Krank/Toyman situation again. I found his time travel abilities fairly interesting, as it was fun to see some random schmuck effortlessly upstage Batman. HOW he got those powers though... He got bored in prison and was surrounded by clocks, so one day he could shift time. What? Also Batman has an atomic clock that is not affected by time literally shifting backwards. What?? Yeah, so, this episode has a lot of "okay buddy" moments. But really, they just added to the fun. If you're gonna be nonsensical, might as well go all in. And that ending really caught me off guard. Imagine reliving 17 years of your life like that, only to still end up a fricking clock repairman. He really couldn't have invested in stocks he knew would have gone up?)
48. Riddler's Revenge - 4/5 (I certainly wasn't expecting this series to try and pull off an emotional Riddler episode. One that actually works, no less. But here we are. It's not the deepest thing in the world, but I thought seeing his origin handled this "seriously" was an fun take, and it was interesting that his own origin was a "riddle" that he got wrong. Wrapping the origin around him and Batman being trapped in a crate was pretty clever. Although after unwrapping his entire life story to Batman, I would've thought he would be a little less hostile towards him after they escape. But no, he just goes back to being evil. I liked Batman's final line though. "When is a villain, not THE villain?".)
49. Two of a Kind - 4/5 (They got Paul Dini in just to write the Harley episode. It's pretty good, though. The different take from Mad Love is amusing to see. I think showing Harleen as a loudly outspoken ditz makes her descent into jester-themed criminal more believable. Especially since they directly give her a personal vendetta to push the criminal aspect further. But since this episode is mostly banking on showcasing the "unique take", it's hard to look at it past comparisons. Without them, it's sort of just The Apprentice but with Harley instead of Donnie. But Harley is funnier, and generally I liked all the zany stuff she and Joker gets into, so this is the better "Joker gets a sidekick" episode. Plus, it has a whole ass Joker musical number.)
50. Rumors - 3/5 (The Batman's take on... Lock-Up? Okay, not really, but the similarities did cross my mind. The premise here is pretty basic. Rumor was not a very thrilling antagonist or anything. He's some generic guy who works for another generic guy, who's just a red herring because he blames being a cripple on Batman. Really, the spectacle of Batman fighting all his past villains in the final scene is the best part of the episode. Although I'm confused why some of them are even there and in costume. Cluemaster only had one goal, why would he still be Cluemastering? And is Spellbinder really Gotham based? How did Rumor even capture him? He's a psychic! And Harley Quinn literally JUST became a villain. I liked Penguin begging Batman to stop him, though. LOL.)
51/52. The Joining - 4/5 (Oh geez, it's Martian Kronkhunter. Couldn't Patrick Warburton voice him instead of Cash Tankinson? I liked the way he casually outs knowing Batman's identity. But on that note, they sure talk about that in public a LOT here. Including the aforementioned scene, both Robin and Bruce himself yaps out "Bruce Wayne is Batman" on two separate occasions. Robin says it in a crowded street, Bruce in a small diner. Yeah, I'm sure absolutely NO ONE within the vicinity could have possibly heard those things. It's not like Bruce and J'onn are having a lengthy conversation about it right where the waitress, chef, and any potential surrounding customers could hear it or anything.
This was a pretty basic alien invasion story, and it's quite a leap in stakes compared to the usual jewel thievery. But I liked the usage of Martian Manhunter. I thought he and Batman had an interesting chemistry. Their initial fight scene was so stupid, though. "Oh no, the Batman discovered I'm an alien. Better not explain anything and instead just beat him up and run away until he catches up and then say I'm on his side". I thought the emotional anchor of Batgirl and Robin feeling unwanted was a bit undercooked, but the moment when Batman says he worries about losing them was sweet, so whatever. And I liked the scene of the villains helping the police fend off aliens.)
53/54. The Batman / Superman Story - 3/5 (With the show finally being allowed to bring in more expansive DC lore, the first thing they make is the most generic Superman story they could think of. Yeah, okay. I liked the way Batman discovered Superman's identity, and seeing the villains of Gotham take him down was fun. But a whole episode just for that that setup, with the second being a prolonged Batman vs. Superman fight scene and then stopping Lex Luthor from doing something evil? Yeah, I didn't really jive with it. Also, with literally ALL of the sky available, did Superman really just fly right into Robin? AND ignored it? Not very boyscout-y.)
55. Vertigo - 3/5 (This was decent, but it mostly thrives off of the novelty of being a Green Arrow crossover as opposed to being an organic Batman story. In fact this would have been improved by cutting out Batman entirely. I liked seeing Green Arrow's origin, and they could've explored his attempt to take revenge on Vertigo and such on his own. And while he DOES do that here, since it's a Batman show, most of it is from Batman's perspective as Green Arrow recaps his story. So, ultimately, they should just make The Green Arrow.)
56. White Heat - 4/5 (Neat revamp of Firefly. He was never a particularly compelling character, but the fact that he was already established in this show makes his descent from petty thief to molten monster in this more compelling by default than had this been his first episode a la Killer Moth or something. And with the inclusion of his girlfriend, it had some genuine emotion. Not a tearjerker or anything, but his last appearance being his girlfriend dumping him and walking away as he's stuck in a pitch black prison cell with him still faintly glowing in the dark is pretty bleak. So the fact that they managed to get all of that out of an episode that can be summed up to "Batman stops molten villain cause he's too hot" is impressive. The battle at the power plant itself was pretty awesome though. But Bruce is really risking his identity fighting with half his face exposed like that.)
57. A Mirror Darkly - 3/5 (Just like the Superman episode, the writers barely do anything to justify its existence besides thinking I should be thrilled by the mere presence of Flash. Well, when the plot is as generic as one of Flash's iconic rogues coming to Gotham to be evil so Flash stops him and Batman helps because it's a Batman show... I'm not. And just like Superman again, Flash didn't leave much of an impression of me. Adding the trait that he talks incredibly fast was amusing, I suppose.)
58. Joker Express - 3/5 (I would have thought with free reign to utilize all of DC lore, this show would be over their generic Joker Scheme:tm: episodes. Guess not. There's literally nothing to be said about this one that hasn't been said about the others, though. Batgirl being infected with Joker's laugh was definitely a very enjoyable scene. But after that, it's as predictable as Topsy Turvy, JTV or The Apprentice.)
59. Ring Toss - 3/5 (Green Lantern. I wonder what fresh, unique plot The Batman crew will conjure up for this one. Oh, Sinestro comes to attack Hal Jordan, but Hal wins. And Batman helps in between, because it's a Batman show. Starting to sound like a broken record here, but that's how unimaginative these episodes really are. It's competent, but it's pretty much shut-your-brain-off-and-enjoy-the-action tier. This one does have the middle part of Penguin with a power ring, which was genuinely gold stuff. The only problem is, it doesn't last for long enough, and ultimately Penguin's inclusion is really just time filler in between Sinestro being defeated.
60. The Metal Face of Comedy - 4/5 (Let me get this straight, Joker is digitally copied by wearing a helmet connected to a laptop while getting shocked? On top of the common trope of cartoon writers not understanding how video games work, logic is clearly not this episode's strong suit. The phrase "mentally download money" pretty much speaks for itself. Regardless, the prospect of Joker vs. Joker is fun enough alone. All the wacky antics Joker 2.0 is able to get into with his morphic abilities were visually fun. It's especially amusing to see the real Joker completely discombobulated by being upstaged and betrayed by, well, himself. Even cheering on for Batman to win.)
61. Attack of the Terrible Trio - 3/5 (The Terrible Trio were fun as a group of misfits, but it's pretty laughable how these college students are being bullied like it's middle school. Also do they really expect me to believe the hot, edgy chick is considered a loser? Jake is the only loser here. It's cool that this show actually had them transform into animals, even if the designs are little...awkward. It's also neat that they gave them a connection to Barbara's personal life, but at the same time it's disappointing that they didn't put Batgirl in a bigger role because of it. Batman's still the one saving the day. Also I was a little disappointing David's final transformation wasn't any more creative than just a griffin. As a side note, it's nice that this closes the door on Langstrom's Man-Bat arc.)
62. The End of the Batman - 3/5 (Fake title, there's three more episodes. The idea of an Anti-Batman and Robin is pretty fun. Wrath served as an entertaining foil to Batman what with figuring out his identity and everything. I think the ending is a little cheap, though. Joker uses his smile-gas so much, you'd think there would be a common antidote by now. Not like Wrath and Scorn are gonna be like that for the rest of their lives. Also a portion of this episode is pretty reminiscent of Team Penguin. Something which they even acknowledge themselves. But just because they point it out doesn't make it not true! Joker being annoyed by being put on menial tasks was funny though.)
63. What Goes Up... - 4/5 (Same as the previous Justice League members, Hawkman didn't leave much of an impression on me. But this time it doesn't matter as much because the episode doesn't put half the spotlight on him. It's mostly focused on Batman stopping Black Mask's, a villain whom I already thought should be utilized more, scheme. Which is stealing a whole building! I mean how cool of an action setpiece isn't an airborne building? On top of Robin being nth metal'd, it was a very fun watch. Really, Hawkman and Shadow Thief feel more like afterthoughts. But even that isn't a bad thing, because they had very enjoyable action scenes. And geez, poor Number One #2.)
64/65. Lost Heroes - 4/5 (Oh, the actual Toyman appears in this show. "Toyman" my ass, that's a damn Jester. Cosmo Krank is more of a Toyman than you will ever be, bud. This episode is pretty fun, if only because I think the narrative of non-superpowered heroes proving their capabilities and humbling the heroes with superpowers when they can't use theirs is amusing. Batman and Green Arrow as a duo was good, and everybody fighting their robot counterparts was cool. I think the robots had pretty rad designs. The only "bad" aspects of the episode is rehashing The Joining as the threat again, and Hugo Strange's inclusion. Not that I don't like him, I think he's a great villain. But this wasn't really a story fitting for him. He's better working from the shadows with the intent of studying the behavior of his victim, not just being a pawn to some alien robot.)

I feel like the story was halfway done, and there are tons of random threads that didn’t connect to anything unless I’m mistaken: The storylines on the alien world seemed to go absolutely nowhere. That alien ship story, the story with that little girl resurrecting her brother with those protomolecule dogs and then running away with him when her parents freaked out, and then that’s the last thing we see.. As if they set up stories that were just completely abandoned without going anywhere and I’m wondering if there’s some special symbolic significance to these stories that I’m missing? Or if they’re planning on making another season some day, or if those particular storylines will be continued in an Expanse book and thats why things were set up but not resolved?
I don’t want to sound too negative here though. It was still the best show I’ve seen in a long time—tied with Babylon 5 and Deep Space Nine which for a nerd like me is the highest praise I could ever give a show haha. Bobbie, Amos, Avasarala, and many other unforgettable characters have become some of my favorite in fiction and I can’t wait to read the books for more!
One final question: What timeline do the books take place in? Is it before the events of the show, or before and during and after the events of the show??

Book Two: The Academy- Part 8
Getting to their next class was much less chaotic and dangerous, as this time Buck and company made sure to take the human tunnels. Halfway there, he heard Butterfly begin to pipe up excitedly. “Next class we get to learn how to speak Dragon!”
Buck remembered that was the next class on the schedule. He also remembered very well who was going to be teaching it.
“Isn’t Wren from your hometown?” Sala asked Butterfly.
Butterfly apparently did not remember, but soared when he was reminded. “Yeah! Wren is from Talisman like me! She got banished by the Dragonmancers but she came back and kicked them all out!”
“The so-called legend goes…” Holly commented, “That the Dragonmancers were trying to get rid of Wren by feeding her to a dragon. Instead, she found a baby dragon and raised him. That dragon is Sky, our other teacher in this class.”
“So we’re really being taught by the Savior of Humanity?” Badger breathed, “There’s so many things I want to ask her! Like how she raised Sky, and what Pantala was like, and what the dragons’ faces looked like when she talked to them, and—”
“Didn’t Sunny say that Wren doesn’t like talking about saving humanity?” Patience said.
“She said Wren doesn’t like being treated like a savior,” Holly corrected, “And I don’t blame her. All she did was open her mouth to a dragon, the dragons did the rest really. Now we all think she’s some kind of goddess.”
The class was silent afterwards. The classroom Wren and Sky taught in was apparently on the other side of the school from the classroom they came from. It took some time, but eventually they reached the room. To Buck’s surprise, this classroom appeared to be just for humans. While it was big enough that a dragon could fit in it, there were no seats for them.
But that was not what the other students noticed. What, or whom they saw was at the front of the room. A young woman or teenage girl, standing at the feet of a decidedly small-ish dragon with a scale color Buck had never seen before, more like a salmon or a pale shade of orange. Before he could think about the dragon any further, he spoke.
“Hello, humans! Please be seated. This is going to be such a fun class!”
Buck did a double-take towards the dragon. He spoke in Human almost as if he were human himself. All the other dragons were unwieldy speaking in his language, constantly trying to avoid slipping over their tongues. Sky was such a natural that Buck had to make sure it somehow was not Wren’s mouth that was moving.
Buck seated himself, again next to Bailey. He watched Wren’s eyes, and saw a sort of confidence that came from having done this before. Well, she probably did already teach most of the dragons here how to speak Human.
Wren began to speak to Sky, alternating seamlessly between Human and Dragon, meaning Buck could only catch snippets of their conversation. “Humans… these kids… it’ll be easy… what about it?”
Finally, Wren addressed the class for the first time, giving a loud roar that shocked Buck again. How could a human throat make such a loud noise as that!?
“That, in Dragon, was a formal greeting,” Wren clarified to the class. “Welcome to your first day learning to speak Dragon. As you probably already know, I’m Wren, and this big guy here is Sky. We go back a long way, and you may have heard about me and him from the countless stories that have been made up about us. Allow me to hit you with the truth. Me and Sky have not, to date, beat up any dragons who were assaulting human villages, we have not personally defeated the Othermind, and we have not rescued screaming babies out of the mouths of SkyWings or SandWings.” The class started with horror upon hearing the last part of the speech.
Uhh, Buck thought, Did dragons really ever eat human infants? That’d be low, even for them.
“That last one I made up to show just how ridiculous the whole thing is. Dragons have not and never will be eating babies.” The class sighed with relief. “Going on, I have, however, killed a dragon that was going to assault the Indestructible City, but only because he had kidnapped Sky. This is all I will say about my past in this class. Understood?”
The students nodded. “Now then, I would like you to repeat after me.” She went back to speaking Dragon. “Roar growl human roar snarl snarl.”
Buck repeated her to the best of his ability, but it was like trying to fit a boulder through his throat, he had never tried to get his voice to make such low noises.
When the class managed somehow to repeat her sentence to a satisfactory degree, she translated. “That sentence means ‘I am a human, I am not food.’ While a dragon who still thinks humans are worth eating would likely not listen to a human asserting their rights, it is still an important sentence to know.”
Wren walked to the blackboard behind her and began writing down a bunch of the symbols in Dragon writing. “This is that same sentence, written out. When I’m done teaching you, you will be able to talk and interact with dragons, objectively the best thing ever. While many dragons are learning to speak Human, this will allow you to talk with not just some dragons, but all dragons.”
Sky then spoke. “This may be hard for a lot of you at first. Making dragon sounds with your little human voices can be really painful when you’re not used to it. That’s why we have a large bowl of water off to the right of the desks. If your throat begins to feel sore, drink some water.”
Buck appreciated knowing they cared about their voices, especially since his throat was beginning to become irritated just from saying one sentence in Dragon. Wren began to teach the humans various words in Dragon. As Buck repeated the words, his throat did indeed begin to burn, but the water the classroom supplied was cool and fresh and helped greatly with soothing his voice. Finally, after what felt like many hours of speaking various phrases in Dragon like “The moons shine brightly tonight” and “Have you seen my friends?” the gong rang.
“Good work, class!” Sky said encouragingly, “We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow!”
Buck heard Sala yell “Bye, Sky!” in Dragon as he stood, and he saw Sky’s face light up hearing that. Buck turned and left the room, going back into the tunnel.
“That was a fun class,” Patience said as he caught up with Buck and Bailey.
“Ugh, no.” Holly interjected, “My throat really hurts from all the roaring.”
“Didn’t the water help?” Bailey asked her.
“No. It was like water rushing over molten rock, I think I need to see the nurse.”
“Go do that if you need to.”
“No I don’t think I will.”
Bailey shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Buck pulled his class schedule out of his pocket and looked at it.
12 Noon: Lunch (Dining Hall)
Buck’s stomach grumbled just then, and he realized how long it had been since he had last eaten. He grasped his upper abdomen and looked over to Bailey. “Hey, lunch is next.”
Bailey turned to look at her brother. “Yep! Wonder what they’ll have for us.”
When they reached the dining hall, the dragons had already been seated. He saw Ahi down below perk up as Buck and the others entered. Buck decided to take a better look at the rest of the dining hall, approaching the railing. Just as he predicted, Ahi jumped to her feet and rushed up to the human platform. She gave an excited whine but then, to Buck’s astonishment, spoke in heavily broken, accented Human.
“Hi! Buck! Very good day today!”
“Oh, uh, hi Ahi!” Buck wondered how she suddenly gained the ability to speak his language, but the dragonet was beside herself with glee, apparently knowing she could talk directly to humans was the highlight of her day, enough that she was completely ignoring the platter of fish arriving at her table.
“Daffodil giving me special lessons! I speak like you now!”
Her every word was shouted, which was a bit much for Buck. Nevertheless, he responded: “That’s good, Ahi.” Out of the corner of his hearing Buck could hear a muted scoff come from another one of the dragon tables. He looked over and saw the MudWing from earlier, glaring in Buck and Ahi’s direction. He deliberately ignored him and looked back at Ahi, who was staring at him with sparkling eyes.
“How your shoulder? When you take off that…” She clearly could not find her next word.
“Sling?” Buck finished for her.
“Sling!” She shouted back.
“I don’t know. I think it’s healing pretty well though.”
“That’s great!” Ahi seemed to finally notice her food waiting for her. “I go eat now!”
“Bye, Ahi!” Buck waved at her before turning and finding that his own food was waiting. It seemed to be a huge feast of smoked fish fillets and a salad made up of lettuce, carrots, and tomatoes. Buck sat between Patience and Bailey, who seemed to have left a seat open for him, and began to pile fish and salad onto a waiting plate in front of him.
“Buck,” Bailey told him between mouthfuls, “You and Ahi look like you’re getting along really well.”
Buck paled, then blushed when he realized what she meant. “Uh, it’s not like I haven’t gotten over what happened years ago… or anything. I just know she’s not going to eat me! She’s way too small to even try!”
“That’s a start,” Patience added. “The Buck I met back at the Lodge, he would have not even bothered to go talk to her.”
“I just, can’t get it out of my head, that we might be in danger. It’s like what we heard on the way to Winter’s class, the Scourge is still around here. What if she gets into the school?”
Patience paled. “Hold on, the Scourge is still near the school?”
Just then, a wave of heat suddenly washed over the students, and Buck pivoted his head over into the dragon section to see something that made his heart jump down into his stomach. It was a SkyWing, but in a deep, terrifying red, and her whole body was shimmering with heat. “What is that?” Buck whispered fearfully to Patience.
The dragon seemed to be aware of its heat, and was sliding between tables, its wings tightly folded to its body. Even the dragons seemed to be wary of it, shifting in their seats as the superheated dragon passed by.
“Oh, that’s Peril,” Holly finally explained, leaning over towards Buck, “She’s the security here at JMA.”
Buck swallowed. “Why do I feel like I’m imperiled just by her being here? Is a dragon who could burn me to ash just by being near me somehow supposed to make me feel safe?”
“The point is,” Badger explained, “If any dragon tries to hurt a human here, they’re going to deal with her, and her entire squad of guards. She’s been constantly patrolling the school and the skies around it to look for signs of the Scourge. So yeah, you should feel safe around her.”
Buck shook his head. “As long as I keep my distance anyway.”
Buck decided to ignore Peril and continue eating. He soon had his fill, and he looked back to see Peril in the far corner of the dining hall, eating all alone. The other dragons seem to be scared of her too… I admit, that’s gotta suck, being that lonely.
Though that thought was banished when he saw Clay approach her, and somehow, wrapped a wing supportively around her body before sitting down and eating with her. Somehow he’s not affected by that much heat.
Buck noticed that Bailey and Patience had finished eating, so the three of them stood. “What’s next?” Patience asked.
Buck took out his class schedule and looked it over. “Looks like we have free time for the next hour or so.”
“Let’s go to the library!” Bailey said, “I want to read some more scrolls about the Scorching if they have them.”
“Can I come with you?” Badger asked, approaching them. “I want to read some of those scrolls too.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Patience concluded, “Let’s head over there!”
The library was well lit with sunlight from outside at this time of day, though Buck realized he had not seen the sun ever since he had entered the Academy. He felt cold all of a sudden, realizing he was stuck indoors, possibly for the rest of the school year. Couldn’t they have built, like, a big porch for us to get some outdoors time?
Bailey, Badger and Patience meanwhile were talking with Starflight. “I’m afraid,” the NightWing said, “We don’t have any more scrolls on the Scorching that are up to date with current knowledge. The ones we have… would be highly antagonistic of humankind, probably very offensive to you.”
“Can we read one anyway?” Badger asked him, “History is important to read about regardless of whether it’s offensive.”
“Well, I suppose. Let me go get the one I used to study.” Starflight walked over to the wall of scrolls and pulled one off, then sat on a large cushion, beckoning the children to join him. Buck went over to join him.
“This is the Legend of the Scorching. I contributed my studies of it to the guidebook we wrote after we started Jade Mountain Academy. After finding out who humanity really is… reading it again made me feel a little sick. If at any point you want me to stop, just tell me.”
The kids nodded, and Starflight began to read.
Dragons of the day and age were solitary creatures.
“So you guys didn’t always have a civilization?” Patience asked Starflight, who shook his head.
“It’s how humans managed to survive until the Scorching. I believe you humans call it ‘safety in numbers.’ Forming into communities provides an incredible amount of protection.”
“Probably also the reason why whatever civilization humans could scrounge back from the dead never got any bigger than it is now,” Buck commented solemnly, “Since dragon civilization was now in the way.”
Starflight continued. The scavengers, however, were not content… They killed the dragons’ prey and choked the skies with smoke.
“Smoke?” Bailey said, “What use would we have for that much smoke?”
Badger tilted his head, wondering. “Maybe humans had really big fireplaces back then?”
“We may never know why humans had such an obsession with clogging the air with smog,” Starflight said, “Anyway, let me continue.”
No one knows why a scavenger would steal a dragon egg…
“Well we do know now,” Buck sighed, “But it wasn’t exactly a good reason.”
But we know he stole it from the wrong dragon… And so she found the other dragons… They became their talons and her claws and her ferocious teeth.
“The humans, most of them, probably weren’t aware of Cottonmouth’s scheme,” Patience said, “To them, the dragons would have washed over them unprovoked.”
“And the dragons of the Scorching were also unaware of that,” Starflight continued glumly, “They lumped all of humankind together in their anger.”
When the Scorching was complete, the scavengers who survived scattered into hidey-holes across the world. Powerless, insignificant, no more than prey, as they should have been all along.
“There’s the part that made me sick,” Starflight sighed, “They really didn’t know back then, and even if they did, they probably wouldn’t have cared.”
“But you do now,” Badger said, placing a soft hand against Starflight’s talon, “And that counts for something!”
“It’s just… Knowing what we do now about humans is a heavy burden for many dragons. When humans call us ‘man-eaters’ or ‘monsters,’ it cuts deep, because so many of us felt so stupid to not see what we were doing. And the fact that some humans do forgive us, I think that proves to me, that humans are much stronger than dragons. To be able to spend over five-thousand years hiding from our claws and teeth, to have lost everything to us, and still being able to come to us and understand us. I can’t imagine being that strong.”
Buck felt this statement deep within him, and he felt he had to say something in response. “When I knew… knew that my parents were gone, I felt like I lost my whole world. I was a lot younger back then. My parents were everything to me.” a tear formed on Buck’s eyelids. “And yeah, I hated dragons because of it. I wanted to kill them all, or at least any of the dragons who came too close to Vale. And when Winter came to Vale, I thought it was going to happen all over again. That I was about to lose Bailey, and my new father. But then, Winter spoke. And my whole world was shattered again. Because now I couldn’t really call them monsters. It took me a while to get used to that.”
Bailey wrapped an arm around Buck’s shoulder, prompting a light sob from the boy. “Buck, it’s like Starflight said. You showed so much strength in coming out here and listening to what the dragons had to say. Dad knew, of course, that coming here would help you. He’s a really smart man. So I hope you’ve learned from this. The dragons are here to help now. You just have to let them into your heart.”
Buck wiped a tear falling from his eye. “Thanks, guys.”
“Hey, how’s about we head back to our dorm and relax,” Patience let out a big stretch, “We’ve had a pretty long day so far.”
Buck chuckled. “I haven’t even picked a bed yet, since I spent last night in the infirmary. Yeah, let’s head over there.”
“It was a pleasure speaking with you kids,” Starflight said, “Hearing your opinions on everything has lifted a heavy weight off my shoulders.”
“No problem, Starflight,” Bailey complimented, “Now, let’s head back upstairs!”
The humans scurried out of the library to head back to their dorm, and Starflight rested his head on the open scroll, letting out a big, deep sigh. “If only they knew back then… How wonderful they are.”

Thank you for the amazing universe!
l Prologue l Previous l Next l
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Will he live?"
The Kolshian doctor ensured that the IV line was set properly in the arm, given feathers and fur tended to get in the way. But he knew what he was doing, and the needle slipped beneath the skin without protest. Confident that the connection was good, he stepped back, taking in the full form of Kalsim with bulbous orange eyes.
The captain was better off than when they found him in the cave, but that wasn't saying much. Naked, delirious, covered in blood, and on the brink of death. His guard wasn't doing much better, spare the mortal injury, but hysterical regardless. He was talking now, but Kalsim wasn't so lucky.
"Barely, maybe. I'm surprised he survived for as long as he did, given the extent of the gash." He regarded the large compress wrapped around the captains chest. Underneath, teal colored medigel worked feverishly to repair the wound. "I'm gonna say the makeshift bandage saved his life."
"Good thinking on his guards part, bad on mine." The other observer sighed. "If only we just escorted him through, all of this could've been avoided. But that's in the past now. Did you manage to preform a brain scan yet?"
The doctor shook his tail. "Unfortunately, it's better to wait until he's stable to run the scan through."
The other thought for a moment. "Do it now."
The doctor was taken slightly aback. "But sir, doing a brain scan on him, in this condition? There's a real chance that the process might kill him."
"I know the risk, but its one we have to take. If he dies, we lose our only piece on the board."
"Are you sure? How useful are his memories to us? Don't we need him alive?"
The other walked to the beside, and gently stroked a tentacles across Kalsim's chest. It carried with it small flakes of violet blood, which a single rub turned to dust.
"We don't need his body, but we need his mind. No matter what happens, we continue on as planned. Understand?"
The doctor was still hesitant, tentacles and tail rapping fidgeting nervously. "Alright, I can get it done. I'm just telling you now that I don't think this is a good idea."
"Nothing we've done so far has been a good idea." The other stepped back from the bed, and moved to exit the small medbay. "But we do what's necessary."
The doctor began the process of setting up the brain scan, while the other made for the door. He took one step out, before he raised his tentacle, and turned back to face the doctor.
"Oh, and do let me know when he wakes up. We have much to discuss."
Memory transcription subject: Kalsim, Captain, United Federation Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: December 31st, 2136
It was not the sound of Kelum's voice that awoke me, nor the agony pulling my chest apart. My first sense of awareness was entirely lacking them, replaced instead by a repeating electronic beat, and what sounded like someone rustling around inside of a cabinet. And pressing against by body was not the ungrateful chill of bare rock, but a plush mattress and soft sheets.
Am I...dead?
Opening my ideas left me staring across what appeared to be a small medbay. At least, it looked like any medbay I would find on one of my ships. Taking the place of the usual zurulian personnel, however, was a kolshain, a deep green, donned in a coat, tentacles shifting through a cabinet hanging over the basin.
"W-where am I?"
The kolshian spun around instantaneously, eyes widened at the sound of my frail voice. "Stars above, your awake." He rushed to my side and began scanning over my face. "How are you feeling? Any pain, any grogginess?"
Maybe I'm not dead? "I...feel fine, I think. The pain is gone, at least."
The kolshain nodded. "Then the medigel did its work, thank the stars above. It looks like your going to be alright."
I looked down to see a large bandage wrapped around my chest, much more professional than the rags that Kelum used as a substitute. In place of the pain, a soothing cold projected from where my wound presumably laid. That must be the medigel he's talking about. I moved my wing around as a bit of a test, and found that besides a few twinges here and there, it was almost like I hadn't been raked at all.
"It's gonna take a couple of months for the wound to heal, and there's definitely going to be a scar." The doctor placed a tentacle on my shoulder. "But you should be able to walk up and about no problem. Do you feel like walking?"
"I...I guess?"
"Alright, let me help you here." A tentacle wrapped around my wing as he gently helped me out of the bed. Placing my legs down on the panel floor felt odd at first, likely the lingering effects of whatever painkillers they pumped into me. But however awkward it was, I could move.
"I gotta say Kalsim, your quite resilient. I've never seen someone survive a wound like that."
I coughed, but it only produced a small wince. "Well, maybe I just have a reason to go on."
"Yes, yes..." The doctor looked towards the door, before concerned eyes turned back to me. "Are you sure that your alright?"
"Yes, I think so..." I paused as I remembered the first question that came to mind. "Where am I? Where's Kelum?"
"Your guard is safe, no worries. He was concerned about you, so he'll be glad to know your up and about."
"Can I see him?"
Some of the doctors compassion seemed to slip away. "Not at the moment. There's more important matters to attend to."
It was then I noticed his other tentacle slipping a holopad back into his pocket. "We're you just talking to someone?"
He looked to the door. "Someone that want's to talk to you. I can bring you to him, if you like?"
"Who?"
"It's better if you meet him in person. He can explain everything."
My mind immediately went to the most obvious possibility: Could this be the person who sent me the note? I was suddenly filled with a mix of anticipation and dread. The person who revealed that my old home still existed, but who's cryptic nature nearly led to my death. He could be friend or foe, ally or enemy. He promised me an out, but it could all still be a lie. A gift wrapped box hiding a live grenade inside, ready to blow up in my face.
But it seemed that no matter what, I would have to talk to him.
"Bring me to him."
I quickly realized that the medbay was just another part of the maze-like facility me and Kelum entered in what felt like months ago. The same confusing layout, the same matte steel panel floors and ceilings, the same sickly green light bars, the same signs leading to the same places. Quarters, Maintenance, Observation.
It was a short journey, but one that nearly sent my nerves jumping out of my skin. My mind was alight with possibilities of who the person could be and what he wanted. Why did he need my help? Why not anyone else? Was it because this facility held a past dear to me? Or was there something that I wasn't seeing here? That last option felt more the case as we neared our destination.
Finally, we stepped through a doorway leading back into the familiar room. The consoles still lay dormant, the sanctuary light still blasted through the (now damaged) viewport. And standing shadowed near the edge,
SQUAW!
The sudden screech threw me back for a second, for there wasn't just a person standing at the window. Accompanying the man was one of those birds, green and gold, the very same that plucked that lizard from right in front of me and Kelum. Its sharp beaked plucked seeds from the outstretched teal tentacle before it, beady forward facing eyes planted firmly on the kolshian's face. He let the bird feed for a moment longer before his appendage returned to his side, and he turned to face me directly.
"Ah, Kalsim. I'm glad to see you up and about."
He was well above middle age, that much was clear. His voice crackled like the pages of an ancient tome, carrying knowledge and wisdom of a lifetime and more. His face was creased and spotted, his eyes were beginning to dull, and his back was beginning to damper. But he was proud and determined, all carried in a demeanor that seemed to disdain the very concept of age itself.
And that demeanor also carried a permeating aura of authority. In the gilded bands and rings around his sleeves, in the robes tailored only for those select few, in the necklace around his neck born with the symbol of the Chiefdom. Yet he was not gaudy or audacious. The blue fabric was well maintained, but not perfect. The guild shone, but was not spotless. He was powerful, but not infallible, and that he knew well.
He was unlike any shadow caste member I had ever met.
"I will see myself out." The doctor bowed before he took his leave, shutting the door in his wake.
The shadow caste member sighed. "I tell him that he doesn't need to bow, but he never listens. My colleagues leave their impression, let me tell you."
He stepped down from the observation platform, prompting the bird to fly back out the broken window. He watched it fly away, only turning back when it finally disappeared over the canopy. His tail bent in a manner that suggested happiness.
"Beautiful creatures, are they not? I can't exactly recall the name, it's probably in the archives somewhere. But I'm sure it's more than befitting of their elegance. Your people had a talent for names, even still to this day."
He stepped up in front of me, standing just slightly below my eye level.
"I'm sure you have plenty of questions, so ask away."
I was surprised at how casual he was being with all this, given that I nearly died. Is this just an act, or is he really this laid back? It would've helped if I knew his actual name.
"Who are you?"
"Ah, that's simple. I am Maronis, and before you ask, yes, I was the one to send you the note."
Maronis. The name didn't ring familiar, despite my numerous interactions with the caste. "I don't recall you."
"I didn't expect you too." He began to walk around, sliding tentacles over the dead consoles. "Truthfully, I'm one of the less prominent members of the caste. Partly because I prefer it that way, partly because I'm not the most popular."
"Popular?"
"Yes, the caste hasn't taken a particular liking to me, and that's entirely my fault. I don't apologize, and they don't expect me too. However, it has left me, how shall I say, rather uniformed."
He stopped his wandering, and turned to face me directly. His causal disposition did turn out to be an act, for a grave expression quickly took its place.
"There are happenings, Kalsim. Happenings that threaten to bring the Federation to its knees. I need your help to stop them."
"Happenings?" I had the feeling he was being intentionally vague. Or maybe... "What do you mean, happenings?"
Maronis sighed, before closing the gap and placing a tentacle on my shoulder. "Like I said, I'm rather uniformed. In that respect we are the same. Come with me."
He guided me over to the viewport, where a warm breeze blew threw the broken window. The 'sun', now nearing the horizon, sent long shadows cascading over the hills and treetops. The town laid shadowed in the center.
"Tell me Kalsim, what do you believe the purpose of this place to be?"
The answer seemed obvious now. "Some sort of habitat for pre-contact life from Nishtal."
He nodded. "In some sense, you are correct."
"In some sense?"
His eyes glowed brightly as he stared towards the horizon. "When the Federation first began on its endeavors, our government initially insisted on the complete extermination of all predator flora and fauna. The farsul, scholars that they are, disagreed, believing there to be some value in maintaining at least some samples of predatory life. Whether for the purpose of study, or that scholarly disposition towards collection."
"Eventually, they came to a compromise, whereby the farsul could maintain their little collection, as long as it was well isolated from the rest of the galaxy. It's why their archives are located a kilometer below their oceans, and why this place is here."
"As the Federation expanded, they constructed hundreds of facilities just like this. For centuries, they served their purpose without issue. And that's where the story should have ended."
But it didn't was the statement left unsaid. And something inside told me it had to do with the discovery in the cave.
"Me and Kelum, we found a skeleton of an arxur in that cave. And the town...people used to live here, didn't they?"
The 'sun' now began to dip below the horizon, and the habitat began to grow dim. Somewhere off in the distance, the calls that became somewhat familiar died into the falling darkness.
"I believe your intuition to be correct. This place was once a facility of observation, transformed into one of experimentation. To what ends, well that remains to be seen."
He turned back to me as the light finally disappeared, rendering his already teal complexion a further decomposed green.
"And I believe that this is, or was, part of a larger plot that I've yet to be let in on. I only know it by its code name, Clear Sky. A secret so important that all besides its name is to be kept from even fellow members of the shadow caste. And you know how secrets can be dangerous little things. At once seeming so minor, yet carrying the capacity to bring down entire nations, civilizations, in one fell swoop."
Maronis brought his tentacles behind his back, and began to pace the room once again. "Now let me ask you another question, Kalsim. Why does the Federation stand today?"
I watched him circle as I processed the question. "I...don't know what you mean."
"Well think about it. The Federation is responsible for numerous crimes against sapience. The destruction of entire cultures, histories, ideals inconvenient to our rule. We wage a war that we both know continues only for its sake. We stand at the core of an empire whose foundation is built on blood and bone, and we revel in it. Any sane world would have long ago rejected us. So tell me, why does the Federation stand today?"
The way he talked so casually about the essential destruction of forty four distinct species, including my own, should have given me pause. But maybe that's the point. Maybe it's because we can talk about it at all. Maybe because...
"It's no secret."
Maronis stopped, turned to face me again, and for the first time since the conversation began, let a small smile lift the corners of his mouth.
"Its. No. Secret. For centuries upon centuries, this galaxy has come to understand us, the cured, the values that we propagate, the foundations of our empire, to be the true predator, and all because one species decided not to become its prey. And from that point forward, we have had to fight for every single tiny ounce of legitimacy, to convince others that we are the path forward when reality tells of an otherwise case. And that struggle," he raised a single appendage to the air, "that is what has granted our Federation strength. For despite it all, we have crafted the most powerful polity this galaxy has ever known, and likely will know."
He paused to take a breath.
"But, to those of a less intelligent disposition," I could almost see the urge to mention Nikonus by name ripple across the kolshian's skin, "to those whose analysis errs to the superficial, they do not see this strength. They see the agitations of the Shield and the Coalition, factions which in reality can be crushed with but a flick of a tentacle. They see the furthering acceptance of the arxur, a natural product of their ideologies inevitable decay. They only see the superficial, because they only desire the superficial."
"So imagine, for a moment, if the conquest of Skalga was an uninterrupted process. If the Federation had never been given pause to reflect. What then, Kalsim?"
I'd almost forgotten that I was a part of the conversation, given how long and, dare I say, passionate his little speech had been. But reflecting on his question, the answer only seemed obvious.
"The secret would have been maintained. The Federations true nature, lacking the intervention of the Venlil, would have in all likelihood never been revealed."
"And what would it have done," Maronis continued my train of thought, "but grant the superficial strength so many seem to desire? The Federation, supreme in its power, free to enact its will upon the entire galaxy, no obstacle standing in its way."
"But secrets are a dangerous thing. Uncontested power is no different. It breeds malaise, complacency, confidence. Combine them together, well, that's an easy way to bring down an empire."
The logic seemed sound, if not common sense. "If what the Federation did only came out now, it would be chaos. Entire species suddenly discovering they're the monsters they've been led to hate the entire time. The Federation, it would just tear itself apart."
"Exactly." Maronis stepped forward. "And it's why I need your help. Because me and you both understand that there can be no more secrets if the Federation is to survive. And more than anything else, that is what we both desire. Correct me if I'm wrong."
Maronis looked up to me as I considered what I did truly want. Because what I wanted was always a product of what the shadow caste wanted, what Nikonus wanted. They told me what to do, what to say, how to act. Constantly kept an officer at my side, making sure that I toed the line perfectly. So what did I want?
"I don't know."
But far from disappointment, or shock, Maronis looked almost like he expected that answer. "You've been on a leash so long you've forgotten how to fly. I know what Nikonus wants to do with you, to make you another pawn in his game to create a forever war with humanity. A delusional plan born from the ideological dredges that can only be described as his mind. And I know you want no part his game. So like I promised, I'm giving you an out."
But that only raised the obvious question, "How do I know I won't just become your pawn as well?"
"Because," he expected that response as well, "unlike Nikonus, I'm giving you a choice. You can walk out of here, pretend that this place and this conversation never existed. Of course," he took in the bandage, "the wound would be hard to explain. I doubt falling down a flight of stairs would do that, but that's all besides the point."
"And you wouldn't make me disappear, suffer an accident, two gunshots to the back of the head?"
"Smart of you to consider that, but no, I don't work that way. At least, with people I consider allies. And even if you walk away, I know you would side with me if it came down to it."
He looked out to the habitat, which was now bathed in dim glow of a false moon. The wails echoed through the night, met with like-minded calls across the ancient expanse. So called stars twinkled across the dome, forming the constellations that once stared down at me every night. Maronis looked upon it all with no small amount of appreciation.
"I brought you here to remind you of what the Federation took from you, and so many others like you, all in the service of predator and prey."
"But predator and prey is all but dying. The continuing acceptance of the arxur and humanity serves as prime evidence to that point. Those who cling to it have condemned themselves to die alongside it. And if they succeed, if Clear Sky becomes manifest, they'll drag the entire galaxy down with them too. Of that I am sure."
"But you don't even know what Clear Sky is, you said so yourself."
"But I know what the caste wants, and you know what they want: To have predator and prey to define this galaxy in perpetuity. Clear Sky can only serve that end. The path that the rest of the caste seems want to take, even if it succeeds, will bring ruin to the Federation."
There were still lingering doubts, but those were inconsequential in comparison to the evident truth. If Nikonus got the war he desired, it would spell the end of the Federation. Humanity, the Coalition, Jones, they had no interest in playing along like the Dominion. They would go for the throat before the shadow caste even had a chance to get out of bed.
And even if they did, what then? Whose to say the rest of the galaxy would go along too? Humanity was no arxur, that was plain for everyone to see. Fuck, even the sivkit found it in themselves to see humanity for who they truly were. At that point, waging a war against humanity on the grounds of 'fighting predators' would be tantamount to sticking a gun in our collective mouth and pulling the trigger.
Either way, if Maronis was telling the truth, the Federation was doomed, unless the shadow caste was stopped, unless Clear Sky was put down.
"What would you have me do?"
Maronis nodded his tail and he spoke in a stern report. "Nikonus believes you to be a loyal pawn. Use that against him. Find out the true nature Clear Sky, then kill it in its cradle. But most importantly, do whatever it takes to ensure that Clear Sky remains a secret. If any inkling of it reaches the public, that could spell the end of the Federation. To that end, no sacrifice is too great."
"Whatever it takes?"
He leaned in closer. "Whatever it takes."
He stepped back, and some of his casual demeanor seemed to return, if not fully.
"And if you don't think you can do that, leave. But if think you can," he raised one tentacle up, and held it out before me, "then I think we can help each other."
He wanted a handshake. That human gesture, their way of signalling agreement.
And it brought for that great dilemma once again. Whether this was an act, or an out. Whether I would once again sign my life away, or finally take a step towards freedom.
After all I've done, all I've been forced to do, what I'm meant to do...It could be an escape, or I could be doing it all over again.
But I looked out the window again, heard the calls of the wilds robbed from my people by the organization whose member was now promising to bring it all to an end. Me, my people, we could have this all. After a thousand years, we could finally fly free, or have our wings clipped once and for all.
And all it took was a handshake.
"So Kalsim, what will it be?"
I recalled what I told Kelum, standing on the brink of death: It only took a thousand years, but things are finally back to normal.
It was a lie, but it didn't have to be. Not anymore.
So I raised my wing, took his tentacle in my talon, and shook to the future of the Federation.
l Prologue l Previous l Next l