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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!

Hi. i'm a very social person by nature now. i always enjoy socializing. For a long time i thought i wasn't good at talking and just have no social skills. but i've learned that it actually works really well. for one thing, i was probably never as bad as it felt and i've improved my social skills with lots of conversations in everyday life.
I also know that social interactions are good for me.
However, when I meet people in everyday life that i dont know yet, and I think I would really like to start a conversation, I NEVER really have the balls to do it.
One of my best moments was in a club. I was there with 2 friends and talked a lot about this very topic. one of them said I just have to do it. For once in my life I had the balls and went through with it. I must have talked to about 20 people. I only had nice interactions.
I'm not pushy. I'm a good listener and have enough empathy to check whether the other person is interested or not.
After the experience in the club, I was definitely free of my depression for 2 weeks. I felt better than ever before. However, I have fallen back into old patterns and just can't bring myself to do it again.
Has anyone had similar experiences and can tell me whether it will be easier if I just do it?
And do you have any tips on how to just do it?
I know in the end I just have to do it and it should get easier with time.
but now i have such an expectation of myself inside and that only increases the pressure.
And that leads only to way more overthinking if im in a situation like that.
I finally just want to be my true self and the way i want to be.
(Im no native speaker, sorry if this is not easy too read)
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)

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.)

During my undergraduate studies I was a classics minor, as I was a former Percy Jackson kid and it overlapped with several of my other interests. While I read plays from Sophocles & Euripides, I had minimal exposure to Aeschlycus, and what I learned about Aristophanes was mostly in relation to Plato. I was looking to read some of their works in my free time over the Summer.
Are there any particular translators/translations of Aeschlycus & Aristophanes’ plays which you would recommend checking out and/or avoiding? Thank you!

Hi everyone,
I am a Male, 43 yo, recently got some blood work done since I am struggling with ED and I'm a bit confused about a couple of things. My total testosterone level is within range, but my calculated free testosterone is high. Here's a breakdown:
My results:

• LH: 1.35 UI/L (reference range: 0.57 - 12.07 UI/L) - Low End of Normal
• FSH: 3.20 mIU/mL (reference range: 0.95 - 11.95 mIU/mL) - Low End of Normal
• Total Testosterone: 4.80 ng/mL (reference range: 1.70 - 7.92 ng/mL) - Low End of Normal
• Ferritin: 459.23 ng/mL (High) (reference range: 21.81 - 274.66 ng/mL) - High
• Vitamin B12: 395.0 pg/mL (reference range: 180.0 - 900.0 pg/mL)
• Calculated Free Testosterone: 0.0842 ng/mL (High) (reference range: 0.0008 - 0.0086 ng/mL) - High
• SHBG (Sex Hormone Binding Globulin): 39.5 nmol/L (reference range: 13.1 - 91.3 nmol/L)

My concerns:

• My LH and FSH levels seem quite low even when are within the reference ranges, especially for my age 43. Could this be a cause of my ED?
• While total testosterone is within range, it's on the lower end. What do you think?
• My ferritin level is way above normal, even though iron levels seem okay. Could this high ferritin be related to my low-normal total testosterone?
• My calculated free testosterone is high and SHBG seems normal, what could be the reason for this?
• My ferritin is significantly elevated, even though B12 is normal. Could iron overload be affecting my hormones or contributing to ED?
• Additional Info: Been taking Vitamin C, Zinc, Longjack, DIM supplements for a while. Could these be impacting my testosterone levels?

Note: I've included the reference ranges in parentheses for clarity.
Complete panel
Any insights or advice would be greatly appreciated!
P.S. I apologize for the Spanish terms on the linked image- did my best translating.

Our 11-week-old puppy has been to two puppy preschool (obedience) classes now and during the class he’s well behaved, picks up on things very quickly, and seems very interested in the other puppies from a distance (even while in our front yard or while we are carrying him in a store for socialization, he seems interested in other dogs). However, in the last 10 minutes when the puppies are free to socialize off-leash, it’s like a switch flips and he gets so scared when another puppy approaches him and will tuck his tail and try to hide by the nearest person/under chairs. Even today, he was put in a separate area with another shy puppy (a 3 pound dachshund, he’s 8 pounds) and was scared even when she approached him. Interestingly though, he seems to enjoy following the other dogs and sniffing them with his tail wagging high in the air (until they turn around). The trainers are great about moving the other pups away when he gets overwhelmed and assure us that he will get better with time, but I’m a bit concerned his shyness will turn into reactiveness later on.
He’s had two experiences with older dogs: - The first two weeks after getting him from the breeder at 8 weeks, we were also watching my partner’s parents’ 15-year-old dog that wasn’t too much bigger than him that was pretty indifferent towards him (i.e. wouldn’t play with him) and he learned to mostly just be chill with her. She would occasionally correct him when he did try to play with her a little too rough but he was always pretty receptive to that. - Last night, we went over to a friend’s that has a very friendly and playful dog. The first 30 minutes or so, we tried to keep them mostly separate as our pup was doing his usual hiding and trying to sneak out to get a sniff. After 30 minutes to an hour, he finally started getting playful with her and they played pretty hard for about an hour and both chilled out. By the end, he was even comfortable laying on his back and letting her sniff him which was a bit reassuring. We had hoped that would translate into today’s puppy class, but that didn’t seem to be the case as he was still pretty spooked.
Does anyone have recommendations for how we can help our boy be more comfortable with other dogs? He loves people, but we have lots of friends with dogs that we would love for him to get along with!

My experience with shyvana this season has been painfull. As someone who liked using both goredrinker and gargoyle on shyv i found myself struggling to find a tanky ad build i felt comfortable with. Hearing that lethal tempo would be removed in 14.10 as well as recent nerfs to bruiser items which were basically my core a part of me wanted me to stop playing shyv until her rework came out. But after looking at the patch notes I came up with something interesting that i want the opinions of more competent players of (for context im an average plat player with 500k mastery).
Btw I have not tested this build yet because I am currently not at home.
Runes:
Primary:
Aftershock - shyvanas ult procs aftershock which also synnergizes with her passive. Considering shyvana only ever fights after 6 it makes it a viable engage tool in the toplane and in teamfights as its easy to hit.
Demolish - for obvious reasons
Conditioning - to synnergize with aftershock (alternative defensive runes could be picked based on the matchup but i believe the new secondary can provide enough sustain)
Unflinching/overgrowth - cant decide which synnergizes better so i assume they can be interchanged based on enemy team comp
Secondary:
Absorb life: I am very excited to test this rune. Not only does it give sustain to survive the dreadful early laning phase but it also has potential high value in later fights as I like fighting in a large minion wave to significantly reduce my q cooldown and delete everything around me. Killing off a bunch of minions instantly could amount to a significant heal.
Haste: Though i value lifesteal due to the nature of the Q, between attack speed and ability haste I defininitely prefer it.
Summoner spells:
Teleport: we are weak in early levels and will most likely need to take bad recalls. With the removal of lethal tempo using ignite to cheese kills seems like a dream
Ghost/Flash: i prefer ghost because with cdr boots and our w it is basically a free teleport to lane in the earlygame and we need constant speed to keep up with all tue dashing champs.
The build:
Starter item: dorans shield
Ionian Boots of Lucidity: another cheap will be the main theme of of our earlygame. These boots especially help with lower tp cooldown and gives us good recalls as we can spam w to get back to lane really fast.
Everfrost - overall a great item on shyv gives ability haste, has sheen for q synnergy, armor and slow for aftershock synnergy
Zeke's convergence - a great cheap item that gives us more crowd control. What i like about this item is that it makes the enemies slowed while we are casting ult which theoreticslly means our Aftershock should cast faster. This also allows us to start the fight with our E instead of Q as the enemies will be already slowed and we wont be pressured to further immobilize them with everfrost.
At this point we will be at a 2 item powerspike at only 4.8k gold
Titanic Hydra: auto reset and cleave
Overlords Bloodmail: I wanted to center this build around this item as it seems very fun. Tons of hp for for aftershock and titanic dmg and 2% of it becomes ad. In total at this point we have 1850 bonus health (including the level 2 ult) which translates to 37 bonus ad at max hp.
Warmog's armor - I am not sure whether this will be more worth than the steracks which ive been building on shyv ever since ive picked her up but with the recent nerfs it doesnt feel worth.
To compare:
Steracks gives roughly 55 ad + 8 from overlords 20% tenacity which i kinda dont care about and a whopping 1.8 k shield for 4.5 seconds which is really really good.
Warmogs gives 20 ad fron overlords. So raw statwise we trade a third of ad for 2.5 hp and 10 ability haste (which costs 100 gold less btw) which is giga worth. Now with warmogs we will have 2850 bonus health which will restore us 143 hp per second. Here id like to mention that in my experience no one really attacks a steracks target so it mainly translates to 4.5 more extra seconds of all in. So in order for us to totally outvalue the steracks shield we would have to be in combat for around 12.5 seconds. And honestly with the aftershock tanking the initial burst damage (which usually is the highest) it is quite feasible. This also could serve as a potential escape tool. Shyvana is an all in champ, but if we ignore all the damage and retreat to the backlines we could easily recover to full health and go back in again. This is also where the extra 10% movementspeed bonus shines allowing us to really put some distance between you and the enemy team should the engage fail really badly.
Finally we round off the build with elixir of iron for tenacity and hp.
(Alternatively am considering bamis cinder component items instead of zekes)
My main concern for this build is the damage output. I assume the only windows to make solo kills in lane is at a level 6 powerspike and potentially pre 2 items. Though perhaps the combination of titanic and bloodmail might even things out.
Playstile wise we do the standard afk farming till 6 utilizing dorans and our defensive runes to stay alive. Potentially get a kill at 6 but modtly just force enemy to take bad recalls and snatch a plate or two. We should be aiming to outpace them with fast recalls due to our cdr boots tp ghost and w
Around the time we get access to cleave we should quickly clear the wave top roam with our incredible ms and perma teamfight utilizing our strengthened engage and slows instead of splitpushing.
I just finished typing this and realized i basically wrote an entire paper on a league of legends build that will probably not even work xd.
Looking forward to opinions suggestions and feedback :)

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.”

Hi everyone,
I , Male, 43 yo, recently got some blood work done since I am struggling with ED and I'm a bit confused about a couple of things. My total testosterone level is within range, but my calculated free testosterone is high. Here's a breakdown:
My results:

• LH: 1.35 UI/L (reference range: 0.57 - 12.07 UI/L) - Low End of Normal
• FSH: 3.20 mIU/mL (reference range: 0.95 - 11.95 mIU/mL) - Low End of Normal
• Total Testosterone: 4.80 ng/mL (reference range: 1.70 - 7.92 ng/mL) - Low End of Normal
• Ferritin: 459.23 ng/mL (High) (reference range: 21.81 - 274.66 ng/mL) - High
• Vitamin B12: 395.0 pg/mL (reference range: 180.0 - 900.0 pg/mL)
• Calculated Free Testosterone: 0.0842 ng/mL (High) (reference range: 0.0008 - 0.0086 ng/mL) - High
• SHBG (Sex Hormone Binding Globulin): 39.5 nmol/L (reference range: 13.1 - 91.3 nmol/L)

My concerns:

• My LH and FSH levels seem quite low even when are within the reference ranges, especially for my age 43. Could this be a cause of my ED?
• While total testosterone is within range, it's on the lower end. Does this combined with low LH/FSH further impact testosterone function?
• My ferritin level is way above normal, even though iron levels seem okay. Could this high ferritin be related to my low-normal total testosterone?
• My calculated free testosterone is high, but the reference range seems extremely narrow. Is this a true increase or an artifact of something else?
• My ferritin is significantly elevated, even though B12 is normal. Could iron overload be affecting my hormones or contributing to ED?
• Additional Info: Been taking Vitamin C, Zinc, Longjack, DIM supplements for a while. Could these be impacting my testosterone levels?

Note: I've included the reference ranges in parentheses for clarity.
Complete panel
Any insights or advice would be greatly appreciated!
P.S. I apologize for the Spanish terms on the linked image- did my best translating.

Here's a translation of the dialogue between Maximus and Proximo. Please, feel free to point out errors, or offer alternatives !

P: What do you want? Hm? A girl? A boy?
Quid vīs ? Hem ? Puellam ? Puerum ?
M: You sent for me?
Mēne vocāvistī ?
P: Yes I did. You’re good Spaniard but you’re not that good. You could magnificent.
Ita vocāvī. Bonus es Hispāne. Sed nōn valdē bonus. Magnificus esse possīs.
M: I’m required to kill so I kill. That is enough.
Occīdere requīror, ergō occīdō. Sufficit.
P: That’s enough for the provinces but not for Rome. The young Emperor has arranged a series of spectacles to commemorate his father Marcus Aurelius. I find that amusing since it was Marcus Aurelius the wise, the all-knowing Marcus Aurelius that closed the stand. So finally after five years of scratching a living in flee-infested villages, we’re finally going back to where we belong: the Colosseum…Oh, you should see the Colosseum Spaniard… 50,000 Romans watching every movement of your sword, willing you to make that killer blow, the silence before you strike, and the noise afterwards, rises… rises up like… like storm, as if you were the thunder god himself.
Sufficit prō prōvinciīs, sed nōn prō Rōma. Imperātor juvenis seriem spectāculōrum ut patrem suum commemorēmus Mārcum Aurēlium disposuit. Rīdiculum id exīstimō, quia Mārcus Aurēlius ipse, Mārcus Aurēlius sapiēns, Mārcus Aurēlius omnisciēns, vēnātiōnēs inclūsit. Itaque, tandem, post quīnque annōs inopiae vīvendī in pāgō pēdiculōsō, ubi pertinēmus revertimur, Amphitheātrum Flāvium… Āh, Amphitheātrum vidēre dēbeās Hispāne… L̄ Rōmānī omnēs mōtiōnēs gladiī tuī spectantēs, ictum illum fātālem expectantēs, silentium ante, et clāmor post illum, crēscēns… ut… ut tempestās crēscēns, quasī deus tonitrūs ipse sīs.
M: You were a gladiator?
Gladiātorne fuistī ?
P: Yes I was.
Sīc fuī.
M: You won your freedom?
Lībertātemne vīcistī ?
P: A long time ago the Emporor presented me with a rudius, it’s just a… a wooden sword, a symbol of your freedom. He touched me on the shoulder and I was free.
Jamprīdem, Imperātor mihi rudium praesentāvit, quī modō gladius ex lignō est, signum lībertātis. Umerum meum tetigit, tunc lībertus sum.
M: You knew Marcus Aurelius?!
Mārcumne Aurēlium nōvistī ?!
P: I did not say I knew him, I said he touched me on the shoulder once!
Nōn eum nōvī dīxī, sed umerum meum semel tetigit !
M: You asked me what I want: I too, want to stand in front of the Emperor. As you did.
Quid volō interrogāvistī: Egō quoque cōram Imperātōre stāre uolō, sīcut tū stetistī.
P: Then listen to me. Learn from me. I wasn’t the best because I kill quickly. I was the best because the crowd loved me. Win the crowd, and you’ll win your freedom.
Ergō mē auscultā. Ā mē disce. Nōn optimus eram quia rapidē interfēcī. Optimus eram quia plēbs mē amābat. Plēbem cape, lībertātem capēs.
M: I’ll win the crowd. I’ll give them something they’ve never seen before.
Plēbem capiam. Aliquid quod numquam spectāvit eī dābō.
P: Aha! So Spaniard, we shall go to Rome together, and have bloody adventures and the great whore will suckle us until we are fat and happy and can suckle no more and then, when enough men have died, perhaps you will have your freedom.
Ahā ! Ergō Hispāne, Rōmam ūnā ībimus adventūrōs cruentōs habēre et meretrīx magna nōs lactābit dōnec tam pinguēs laetīque erimus ut nōn jam bibere possīmus et deinde, quandō satis virī mortuī erunt, fortasse, lībertātem habēbis.

So, I’m 20. Initially with my life I planned to do something creative. I can paint, draw, write, make music etc. I still plan to do these things as hobby as a side hussles (for example I make/sell lampwork beads which I don’t see AI or a robot doing anytime soon. Not that I don’t think a machine could do it, more that it’s so niche I don’t think anyone would bother to make a machine that could).
I can’t really see any of those things translating into a full time career anymore though.
I think AI is probably the way to go. I have some interest in computers/technology, but more than that I just like learning things in my own time and think I’m pretty good at it. I think it’d be worth it spending some time learning how to use AI and where it’s going.
The problem is, because AIs been sort of this bee on my bonnet for awhile, I’ve kind of avoided thinking about it, aside from using Chat GPT to help me write my schedule and things like that.
I don’t really know where to start. I’ve always wanted to work in freelance, are there freelance jobs in AI? Do I need any formal education? I don’t really do well in that setting, I work much better learning independently. What should I even learn? Is there any free courses online or on YouTube that you’d recommend?

I have made spreadsheet where you can input your season results for each race: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1P-Bes0MvD2DpYCmPX9WoJ1keegzCELm0/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=105306537952302339096&rtpof=true&sd=true
Feel free to use it as well as telling me if there is place for improvements (surely there will be).
There are 24 weekends to save results in, each one has sprint and race (finish position to be inputted there), and fastest lap column (input 1 for driver that had it). Points are calculated for drivers and teams automatically, same goes for final standings (points and position) that can be found on the right end of the table.
Notes:

• I haven't found way to determine which driver is higher when both have same amount of points (I know how it works irl but I don't know how to throw it into excel).
• You can select entire table and copy it down so you can have multiple seasons in one file.
• I have included additional slots for 21st and 22nd driver as well as 11th team along them, so it's ready for 2024 with create a team mode (best to hide them if playing with standart 10 teams).
• It will require changing colors and names for Kick and RB, will do it when F1 Manager 2024 will be out.
• Functions are written in polish as this is my native language, but I think excel should handle translations.

Below you will find a complete translation of a work of the Mahārtha (aka Krama) school of Śaiva Tantra that is intended specifically for those who wish to access its sublime wisdom directly through the embodied practice of its techniques.
This text, the Svabodhodaya-mañjarī, teaches inner yoga, that is, subtle but powerful techniques of awareness cultivation that effect the unfolding of awakening and thereby give rise to the unconditioned joy of pure Being which is entirely free from all mental constructs of Varna, social status and all other artificial barriers.
The author of this text, Vīranātha, was taught under one of the greatest gurus of the tradition. So revered was She that the disciples didn’t even dare to say Her name, only calling Her “Goddess K” as She was seen as the full embodiment of the supreme Shakti.
Translation of the first 16 verses:
1.By [realizing] the essencelessness of [all] entities and states of mind through a thorough investigation of [the nature of] awareness (bodha), one attains an awakeness (bodha) which gives rise to unconditioned joy. That joy is the natural state of the Self, and that is the deity I worship. OR 1. I venerate the natural condition of [our] innate being, which is the joy that arises from the awakening (bodha) attained due to [realizing], through a thorough investigation of awareness (bodha), the fact that [all] entities and states of mind (bhāva) have no separate or independent existence [apart from Consciousness, which is the Self].

1. The group of five subtle sense elements (color, flavor, odor, texture, and sound) comprise the [sensual] world. They are grasped by the five cognitive powers of sight, taste, smell, touch, and hearing.
   
2. In all conditions, the sense-faculties of embodied beings are founded on the mind. If that can be dissolved, everything is dissolved for him.
   
3. The means to the dissolution of that very [thinking mind] was taught by the Guru(s) of previous times. Due to fear that this sacred teaching (āgama) will be lost, it is [here] clarified by me, [Vīranātha/Vāmanadatta].
   
4. Everyday behavior is formed by mental constructs such as universal categories like caste etc. and so is based on the mind. But these categories do not actually exist. By realizing this, [the yogin] will attain tranquillity (śama).
   
5. When the semen and blood is mixed, [producing the zygote,] the mind is nowhere to be found. It is not in the embryo, nor in the fetus, it exists nowhere in the body [as a static, specific, objectifiable thing].
   
6. Whether it is newborn, juvenile, or youthful, the body is decaying in every moment, ending in complete destruction. It cannot be grasped [as a thing in itself]
   
7. name is one thing, form is another, its parts such as hair etc. each have their individual existence [and name]—the whole can be broken down [indefinitely] into parts, as we can see. So where is the “body” [as an independent object]?
   
8. Upon reflecting in just this way, the concept of ‘caste’ or 'class' is likewise blocked [since it consists only of specific individuals, subsumed into a category constructed by the mind]; it is not actually connected [to reality], nor is it manifest to anyone [as an objective thing].
   
9. One’s name is given by one’s father; [to label someone with] a verbal noun [like ‘a teacher’ or ‘a cook’] is illusion, since s/he is not restrained [to that action alone]. If someone is considered in terms of the fact that s/he bears a certain quality, [we object that] there are many qualities [therefore to label someone according to any one of them is arbitrary].
   
10. Seeing in this way that the mind is unstable, overwhelmed/ inundated [as it is] by the impressions (saṃskāras) arising from false mental constructs, one can and should dissolve it.
    
11. ‘Cessation’ (nirodha) [of the mind] was taught by previous [masters] through the yoga/method of renunciation [of the mind and senses] and arduous practice. Here I will teach a cessation that is [comparatively] effortless.
    
12. Focus the mind upon something that then dissolves. Because it is not grasping anything else [other than the dissolving object], the mind comes to rest in one’s Self.
    
13. It is similar to the case of a powerful thunder-clap gradually fading: when it dies away, the mind, due to being [totally] focused on it, comes to rest.
    
14. One should give oneself to one-pointedness [i.e. meditate] on any enchanting (manohara) sound that comes into one’s hearing, until ceasing it brings about the cessation [of mind].
    
15. In precisely the same way one may meditate on the beauty of the visible and other [objects of the senses]; after the object-perception has dissolved, one should let one’s awareness remain empty/clear [/not thinking on what has dissolved], invigorated by the sense of one’s own immediate being (ātmabhāva).
    

For full translation of the entire text as well as videos explaining each verse: https://hareesh.org/blog/2018/3/9/the-blossoming-of-your-awareness

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Hello again! This batch of chapters is looking pretty spicy, and I'm really excited to share them with you! Not really much else to say, tbh, other than that I'm once again really thankful for all of your patience and understanding when it comes to my upload schedule. I know it's tough sometimes to drop in and out of stories like this, and even worse to see the last upload date for a story you like being "100 days ago," but we're still making our way there slowly! Besides, the most tender dishes are the ones that boil slowly~
As always, I hope you enjoy reading! :D
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Fanart: The Brightest Star in the Night Sky, by u/Frostedscales
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Thank you to Philodox on discord for proofreading and editing RfD.
Thank you to Pampanope on reddit for the cover art.
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Memory Transcript Subject: Sylvan, Venlil Citizen
Date: [Standardized Human Time]: December 13, 2136
​
“Everything’s good to go over here, Kenta! How about you?”
“Fine on my end too boss! Though I still don’t know how to feel about how I’ve arranged the sandwiche– err… sylvanas. Cucumber salad next to blueberry? They kind of don’t match…”
“I already told you a million times, they look fine!”
“You sure…?”
“I’m sure! Now are you ready to start this thing?”
“Ready!”
“Then let’s go!”
I shut the door to the kitchen, making sure that I had not left anything behind that would be needed for the day, then began wheeling out the final cart of amenities. As I rolled it down the wooden floor of my emptied out diner, one long serving tray jostled back and forth across the surface top.
I looked down to recap my inventory. A motley of sylvanas cleanly cut into triangles lay in an ornate pattern atop a decorative bed of raw ipsom grain stalks, spiraling around the edges of the plate as it creeped its way closer to the center. The sylvanas were split into clear groups based not only on their filling, but of the colour of that filling as well, creating a literal rainbow of flavours to choose from. By all means, it was an absolutely marvelous display of art; a visual performance that I had no idea could be captured in something like a dish to be served at such a quaint event. Kenta, however, seemed to still be worrying over it.
Despite it apparently being part of the name according to my translator, the Terran fruit named “blueberry” was actually a deep shade of indigo rather than blue, especially when crushed into a form of jam. As a result, lacking any blue to connect the various green options of our rainbow to that of the very limited indigo, Kenta had ended up spending much too long worrying over such a minute detail.
‘What a dummy…’ I thought back to myself with a slight chuckle. ‘I guess he’s worrying about this just as much as I am.’
Hardly two or three steps remained between the food cart and the diner’s entrance. Hastily, I jogged up to the front door to prop it open. However, when I went to turn the handle, I felt it give way without even the slightest push. Someone was pulling it from the other side, causing me to be yanked forward and stumble. Looking up, I saw the rusty figure of Fehnel standing impatiently in the doorway.
“You almost done in here, Sylvan?” she asked in a hurried breath. “Here, let me help you with that.”
Before hearing my response, Fehnel had already grabbed ahold on the cart and began pulling it outside without delay. I let go and didn’t attempt to stop her, knowing full well the farm woman was likely much stronger than I. In a blur, she was already far from the door, and I began jogging after her in an attempt to keep up.
Just as the day before, the Inverter was powered on and running perfectly. The metal pylon let out a slight, continuous hum as it projected an energetic beam from its center, which split at the apex around the height of the Lackadaisy and fell down in a parabolic curve, creating a tangible anti-gravity field in its wake.
Just outside the field, it became immediately clear just how necessary this piece of advanced Federation technology was. Beyond the radiant dome, a thick rain riddled the sky and drowned the world it fell unto. A harsh wind howled and distant thunder roared, which combined with the rain to push against the field to no avail. Within, where so many confectionaries, decorations, and other preparations had been so carefully placed, not even the paw of Solgalick could disrupt us.
“You know this would be goin’ a lot faster if I could jus’ start grabbin’ the food ma’self,” Fehnel commented in a tone too preoccupied to be annoyed.
As I ran after the hauling Yotul, I tried to say, “Fehnel, I’d really appreciate it if you would–”
“I know, I know,” she interrupted back, seemingly distant. “You want me to ‘not go into the diner during the event.’ Listen Sylvan, I get that Kahnta back there is a fainter, but don’t you think that this is a tad extreme? We’re on a tight schedule here, y’know?”
“I know… it’s just kind of a golden rule. I can’t stress to you enough how important it is that nobody does so much as peak in there,” I reiterated as I jogged alongside the speeding Yotul. “And don’t worry. Once everything starts, then you can feel free to socialize and spend the day with your daughter. I’ll take care of restocking the food.”
“I suppose that’s awful nice of ya,” Fehnel breathed out. “Sure you won’t be tirin’ yourself out, hun?”
I shrugged. “Eh. How fast could people possibly eat? It’ll be fine.”
“Careful there. Don’t wanna be sprintin’ before your legs catch up,” Fehnel chuckled. “But I’m plenty thankful for the confidence. I’ll try to hold ya to your word.”
As we moved, I was able to take a brief second to look around. I began to marvel at how far the event had come since its initial inception. And under such short time restrictions as well! Through a combination of both the Lacakdaisy’s furniture, as well as a number of decorations that I had rented, we had ended up with something that I had truly considered exemplary. In traditional Venlil style, a forest of various greenery had been set out in a colourful array of paw-crafted pots and other containers. Small bushels, flowers, a few overhanging trees, and other vegetation stood proudly within. From each, incandescent ornaments of various hues emerged in a bright and brazen display. All of which combined to transform the normally secluded street atmosphere into one that was truly cozy, if not just the slightest bit packed within the bubble. In accordance with one of Fehnel’s initial requests, we had even arranged for a small wooden stage to be brought in, which fit neatly against… something that I would rather not look at…
Of course, decorations aside, one of the most enrapturing displays was that of the food itself. Positioned at various places all around the event’s area, tables upon tables of buffet items had been laid out. It was a marvelous display on all fronts. From the generously sized serving bowls of pasta, plates of still steaming gyoza, and the diverse types and variations of strayu laid in motley rows all throughout, the feast was like a colourful microcosm of everything Kenta and I had been working towards.
But what was even more impressive were all the new additions Kenta had made. Just as expected, my wayward chef had taken the original request and spun it on its tail, seemingly pulling no stops when it came to expanding our already diverse arrangement. From end to end, small, round discs of strayu called “Danishes” lay against each other down the side of one of the tables. Most impressively, the center of each had been filled in with various hues of jam, in a similar style to that of the sylvanas that I was currently wheeling towards it.
On the other side of the same table, a sundry of embellished wooden bowls sat parallel, each filled with various kinds of Venlilian-style salads. I had taken the time to teach him such recipes a good while back, but while at first these seemed to be rather unostentatious, a quick look revealed that Kenta had added his own twist to the otherwise typical mix of local produce. Tossed about each salad were dozens of small strayu cubes called “Croutons,” each baked until crisp and crunchy. What’s more, if the olfactory receptor in my mouth didn’t deceive me, I had even picked up the heavenly aroma of something Kenta had only introduced to me recently as “Garlic,” which had clearly been infused into the cubes.
On another table, steaming crocks of both soups and stews had been laid out for guests to self serve. But in lieu of a bowl, Kenta had elected to do something truly unique. It had taken me a moment to process his idea at first, but hollowed out husks of rotund strayu loaves had been left out for guests to grab, in which they were supposed to fill the “bread bowls” – as Kenta had called them – with the soup and eat them as normal. This even came with the advantage of being able to tear off small pieces of the now soup-soaked strayu, allowing one to enjoy the taste of both simultaneously. This idea, I had soon realized, would be the hardest to explain to any confused guests that might happen by.
As we approached the soup table, Fehnel and I began loading up the cart-full of sylvanas we had brought over onto a free area. We placed them right next to one other new recipe that Kenta had decided to share. A simple display of thinly cut slices of crunchy, lightly seasoned strayu, with a bright red sauce readied next to it that I instantly recognized as being the product of tomatoes mixed with oil. According to Kenta, these “Bruschetta” were a simple, yet simultaneously alluring appetizer, which would do well to pair with the soup he had stirred up.
Once the sylvanas had been laid out, Fehnel felt the urge to ask, “Is that the last of it?”
“Yes, for now,” I replied, absentmindedly stretching my back. “This’ll cover the initial rush of hungry people, I assume. But Kahnta’s already busy working on seconds.”
“Gotta say Sylvan, this is quite the impressive spread,” Fehnel said with a quick, delighted wag of the tail. “Y’know… When I asked for somethin’ new, I wasn’t expectin’ Kahnta over there to whip up so much.”
“Oh this isn’t the new dish you asked for,” I answered flatly. “That’s still being worked on.”
Fehnel froze solid, only her ears remaining seemingly automotive as they slowly shifted towards me. “Wait… what?
“Yeah all of this is just the appetizer according to Kahnta,” I explained, messing with a few arrant sylvanas that had broken symmetry. “There’s going to be one more plate of food that should be coming out shortly. And then dessert after that.”
“That’s… surely somethin’...” was all Fehnel could say. She opened her mouth as if to continue her train of thought, only to have something else pull her attention away.
Peering out into the stormy weather of the darkened town, an eye-catchingly large herd of people were making their way towards the bright dome that sketched our event’s area. Silhouettes of familiar patrons and wayward newcomers alike huddled under their umbrellas. All the while, an excited murmur hummed throughout the air, despite the noise of the rain around them. The guests were here, and they seemed excited.
I peered down at a small data pad. “Oh, second-sun already? Looks like we just barely made it on time.”
Fehnel simply wagged in acknowledgment, still the slightest bit flabbergasted.
I nudged her side, which seemed to knock her out of her trance. “Want to go greet them?”
Taking one look at me, then peering back at the ensemble of strange and alien foods behind her, one of Fehnel’s ears flicked a little. Then, she did the tail equivalent of a Human shrug, letting out a pleased chuckle. Whatever had been on her mind was apparently pushed to the side for now. “Heh, of course hun. Let’s treat ‘em to somethin’ special.”
With a newfound kick in her already hastened step, Fehnel began to proudly jog over towards the approaching crowd. By now, we could already begin to make out some faces, each looking more curious than the last.
In addition to the Brachistochrone Inverter itself, Jeela had also taken the liberty to have a reception area installed in the form of a metallic tunnel about the width of three Venlil. The tunnel seemed to fold and bend the anti-gravity energy around it, allowing for people to easily enter the repulsion field without having to tread through a torrent of redirected rainwater. Additionally, a series of hooks alongside the interior of the tunnel also served as a convenient area for the storage of umbrellas and coats, which our guests quickly began making use of the moment they started funneling through.
Fehnel and I stood at the side of the entrance, welcoming in guest after guest with the appropriate propriety. At first, many of them were stymied in their step, staring in awe at the sanctuary-like atmosphere that had been created in the middle of the street. But almost as soon as they got their bearings, most realigned their immediate priorities, and subsequently made a beeline for the buffet tables. That’s what they were here for, after all. Hopefully they’d come to appreciate the actual reason Fehnel was hosting this event soon enough.
As we busied ourselves, the voices of many excited guests made themselves audible.
“I’ve been looking forward to this!”
“Look at the decorations!”
“I feel like I’m in the Capital!”
“Are you sure all of this is free?”
“The ad said it was! Either way, I need to try some of this!”
Fehnel and I watched in delight as the crowd began to form around the tables, a number of plates I had left out disappearing as fast as the eye could blink. However, it was clear that a majority of the attention received had been focussed solely on the more familiar menu items already offered by the Lackadaisy.
“Think they’re gonna touch any of the new stuff?” Fehnel idly commented, her attention still fixed on the crowd. “It’d be a shame if any of it goes to waste.”
“Oh they will,” I answered without hesitation. “Just give them a moment. They’ll be all over it soon enough.”
Fehnel laughed. “You sound awful confident, don’tcha?”
“Oh please, this is hardly the first time I’ve served some wacky new thing to my customers,” I answered back with a chuckle of my own. “If anything, at this point I’d say I’m quite the expert. Just watch. You’ll see.”
Like clockwork, my precognitive claim had been proven true mere moments later. Some soul amongst the table’s crowd had seemingly been more curious than the rest, and ended up taste-testing one of the bruschetta. It was hard to make out from this distance, but if I had to guess, her ears had perked up and her eyes had widened in surprise. What was made clear, however, was their opinion of the new food, because only a few moments later could their voice be heard.
“You have got to try some of this stuff!” she practically yelled at anyone who would listen. “It tastes like the red stuff that’s on the pasta, but like… even stronger! It’s so good I feel like I died and am one with the Stars already!”
Like a Farsul unto a library, the crowd collectively swiveled their ears and began to gravitate towards the bruschetta with eager eyes. A few more voices piped up in glee, each more delighted than the last as paw after paw descended on the strayu until there was nothing scarce of crumbs left.
‘Guess that’ll be the first thing I’ll need to restock,’ I thought with a passive wave of the tail, before a sudden realization crept into my mind. ‘Ugh… Kenta and I might be busier today than I thought…’
It wasn’t long before the elation of trying something new, mixed with the sudden and devastating lack of bruschetta, had urged our party guests to move on to the other, never before seen options that laid out to fill their fancy. All at once, the wall of wool and fluff had spread out the slightest bit as fresher waters were explored. Plates were filled with various salads, despite the unfamiliar bits of crunchy strayu inside raising some skeptical ears. Helping after helping of the technicolour pastries were reached for as well, with the sylvanas not lasting much longer after that. And most impressively, it seemed that people had quickly begun to figure out the concept of Kenta’s cute “bread bowl” idea as well, even without instruction.
That last turn of events had actually caught me the slightest bit off guard. For the bread bowls being quite possibly the most unique aspect of the event – well, that I knew of – I found myself rather impressed by how fast people were getting the hang of it. Sure, it meant that I wouldn’t have to bother myself with having to go around explaining it to everybody, but in my eyes, there was a bit more to it than that. Perhaps it was a case of grasping at straws, but for the briefest moment, it made me wonder whether or not Humanity’s ideas had been affecting my people more than I had realized. Perhaps, if only in the slightest, Kenta had been opening their minds to more unique ideas than I had given him credit for. Without the slightest bit of hesitancy, the partygoers did well to experiment with more than the obvious, quickly wrapping their minds around something completely new and extraordinary.
I exhaled a short-breathed snicker, shaking the thought out of my head. ‘Calm down there, Sylvan. It’s just some soup and a piece of strayu shaped like a bowl. No need to get all philosophical about it. Still, I guess them figuring it out saves me some time. Good, cause it looks like I already need to start stocking the next round…’
I moved to grab my cart so that I could head back inside, only to have Fehnel call out and grab my attention instead.
“Sylvan, hun,” she began. “Before you go makin’ yourself scarce. I think there’s somethin’ about this here party that you haven’t explained yet.”
My head turned out to face her. “Hm?”
“Now, don’t get me wrong… What you did here is great and all. By all means, whenever it is that Kadew decides to show up here with that date of hers, I’m sure she’ll start coming around to the idea of my peoples’ Runnin’ Day. But…”
I now realized that Fehnel was completely focussed on something off in the distance.
“Oh,” I replied. “That…”
I had done well to ignore it up until this point. In fact, if I tried hard enough, I was even able to keep it completely hidden from my peripheral. But the truth was, no matter where I went or what I did to distract myself, there was no denying that it was there – that She was there.
At the opposite end of the dome, an onyx terror lurked over the ignorant, complacent masses. Its wicked enormity great, and the pressure about it even greater. The form it took was terrifying. An alien pose, unknown to the mind, originated from a people feared by many. Its peering eyes descended as domineering malevolence. And from its onyx chassis, a message rang clear as a day personally forged by Solgalick themself: Even if I couldn’t see her; if I shielded herself from my sight all day… No matter what, She could always see me.
“I’m gonna be honest Sylvan, I did not take you as someone that had a thing for Magister Jeela.”
I shot back quicker than a bolt of lighting. “I DO NOT HAVE A ‘THING’ FOR–” before stopping myself short.
Luckily, my voice had not been noticed among the now loud, chattering crowd about us. Which was good. I was pretty sure that my voice had cracked into an almost childishly high pitch. Taking a deep breath, I yanked my composure back, and stuffed an air of professionalism back into my voice yet again.
“I a-appologize…” I mumbled out, my head shrinking between my shoulders.
“No worries!” Fehnel replied. She couldn’t help but let a few chuckles pour into her voice. “I was just teasin’ is all. But seriously, you’re gonna have to whip up a pretty darn good explanation… Else I’m boutta start thinkin’ that what I just said was true.”
I took a deep breath, which soon shifted into a long-winded sigh. “Listen… It was part of the deal, alright? I’m not proud of it, but it’s there now, and unless you’ve got a herd of Mazic heavylifters at the beck and call, I can’t get rid of it.”
“Part of the deal?” Fehnel repeated.
“It’s my end of the bargain for us being able to have this Inverter during the event. And no, before you ask, it was not worth it,” I explained.
I could do nothing but feel immense shame for the inconvenience. To have something so overbearing, so shamelessly grandstanding placed in the middle of what was supposed to be a quaint event about cross-cultural understanding… It was beyond disrespectful to Fehnel’s original request. It took something that the poor woman had been planning for who knew how long, and brutally morphed it into a shadow of its former self. Into nothing but an ego trip for a politician that probably already surrounded themselves with weed biters and paw lickers.
“Listen…” I said, lowering both my tail and ears in respect. “Fehnel, I apologize profusely for allowing that thing to be placed here. I should have put my paw down and just hosted the event inside like we planned. But it’s too late now. I’m really sorry…”
But to my surprise, Fehnel had not been paying attention to my display of humility. Instead, her focus was still on that of the statue.
“I think it looks neat!” she said in a cheery tone.
“Y-you do?” I mumbled back.
“Well yeah!” She wagged her tail to assure me. “Sure it’s a bit, err… unconventional… But I think it’s got quite a bit of charm to it!”
“That’s… one way of saying it…”
“Besides, it might not be the worst thing to have somethin’ from the Magisters here with us,” Fehnel continued to think out loud. “Sorta gives this whole event a kinda official feel, y’know? Like it’s lettin’ everyone here know that the Yotul have got just as much right bein’ under the same heedin’ ears of the Governor as anyone else. Sure, dependin’ on where you are and who you ask, that may or may not be a good thing. But it at least means it’s harder to ignore us now. Heck, might even convince some of the people ‘round here to open up a little to the other parts of us.”
“Well… so long as you’re happy with it, I suppose?” I worded awkwardly.
If I had been completely honest with myself, I was expecting the slightest bit more… Well, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps anger? Annoyance? Unrelenting grief that invariably led to locking yourself in a closet, crying? But there was no sign of that in the rusty Yotul’s eyes. As she stared up at the onyx marvel, I couldn’t help but feel as though there was no sign of the negativity I had anticipated in the slightest. Instead, all that remained was that of a solemn pride. Maybe she was lying to herself. Like it was some sort of coping mechanism that helped her work around this unwelcome development in her plans. But regardless, the end result remained. And I was left feeling relieved at being able to avoid yet another hurdle.
‘Fehnel really knows how to look at the optimistic side of things, I guess… Good. I could really use some more of that around here.’
“Feel free to run along now, Sylvan,” she said, waving me a satisfied flick of the tail. “I’ll keep waitin’ here so I can greet the other guests. And I do hope you and Kahnta can bring out the main course whenever it’s ready. I wanna make sure everything’s ready to blow Kadew’s fur off whenever she decides to get here.”
I had to force myself not to flash a Human smile in return. She and the rest of the partygoers had no idea what was coming. And to a certain extent, neither did I. He did mention he had some sort of “surprise” coming, after all. But I always trusted Kenta for his word, and knowing what my chef was capable of, it never occurred to me once that it wouldn’t live up to the expectations. In fact, I was counting on him to exceed them.
I turned around and headed back to the kitchen. It was time to get the real party started.
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I just found this reddit page so i will try -
Hi all and hi support my name is Adam Valkossak
I want to request recovery here also since people can see it and decide if your work is competent enough to do this or you are useless same as the bot answers in emails and ingame support.
UID: 5124102300
Nicknames: YourDickSmells, PropanBhutanOf, ×ASAP×Ferg×, kokotikmalinky, KrucifixX
Linked facebook contacts: lubomirbily, petervalkossak, KristiXx
Recent players nicknames: £BetA£ (Not my friend)
Currently in wrong hands used nicknames: Prostezmrd11, Prost3zmrdlif3
The most progress email sounded like this:

1. The reason it being stolen is that my passwords were leaked when i sold my old device on Facebook marketplace. The first account stolen was Twitter and my ingame login was Twitter.
   
2. I tried to contact him via ingame chat where he told me he bought my account from someone else called Taurus or Tauros (i have chat screenshot in Slovak and Czech language and if you translate it you can verify it yourself) photos will be added to this email. He then didnt wanted to talk so i got my friend to ask him about it where he told him his name on Facebook Stefan Krikava which i checked the email and it was correct.
   

3.When i contacted Krikava he told me okay he will give the account back to me but he wanted from me over 1000€ so he wanted to sell me back my account ( there are resellers which do that in CZ/SK pubg mobile scene and multiple abroad resellers ). So he has given the account to me and waited for me to send him money, after 2 weeks he did a claim because he had all the recent informations and UC receipts. (I have our whole conversation saved in Facebook Messenger as a proof). I got back my account for 2 weeks via his Facebook and i linked my own email address. I dont remember which one it was now but iam sure i can check that if needed.
Right now he doesnt contact me even when i told him i reported this to police.
All i want is back my account where i have memories of over 4 years with manny friends and my brother. I can show and tell you anything just work with me please.
If you translate the Messenger chat he was making fun of me and 24.09.2023 he said that i didnt give him 1024€ so he did claim and doesnt want to give back my account anymore.
Thank you again for response iam documenting the whole proccess over 2 years and hopefuly the outcome will be good.
Best regards,
Valkoššák Adam
I have also put payments, conversations, twitter proofs of email being changed 3 times.
I put info of devices used, dates of changes, simply everything what i had i put there.
Their response was that it has been more than one year so they dont know. I have lately checked how long you have to store those payment informations and changes informations and it was always atleast 5 years.
Since i have shown him laughing at me and he admited in chat it was mine and he will sell it to me you have proof of my ownership.
To this day i dont understand where is problem when i showed you proofs from 2018 to 2022 may and then i showed you clear proof of chat ingame that he bought the account from Tauros which isnt allowed so i sugest you give it back and blackmail his info or something. Also tauros since he is known scammer in cz/sk. I will try to add as much proofs also here.
The whole situation - playing from 2018 to 2022 may when it was stolen via Twitter login because of stolen Twitter account, 2 years of unsuccessful requests on not working support pages because i didnt use ciaomi redmi 9 but new iphone 13 and other devices, i got in contact with him he wanted to sell it for 1024€ which i didnt pay but played for 2 weeks from his Facebook login and had linked my own email, he did claim since i didnt pay him with recent info and device, tried to recover it back to me with my old info and also his payments but unsuccessful since i have different device, he blocked me but iam thinking of driving to him and visit him in person.
I have - proofs as payments, names, photos of gameplay and conversations with friends and brother to may 2022 then i have proofs of chat conversation with him ingame and on facebook where he clearly states he got it for free or bought it from Tauros and he doesnt want to give it back for free, i have proofs of email changes on Twitter account from log i downloaded and email i got from Twitter of me recovering my twitter account.
If you need something more as proof feel free to ask, i will add as much photos as i can if i can. Probably photos will be added in comments or somewhere because i use web on iphone and i dont see /add photos\ button.

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Hello again! This batch of chapters is looking pretty spicy, and I'm really excited to share them with you! Not really much else to say, tbh, other than that I'm once again really thankful for all of your patience and understanding when it comes to my upload schedule. I know it's tough sometimes to drop in and out of stories like this, and even worse to see the last upload date for a story you like being "100 days ago," but we're still making our way there slowly! Besides, the most tender dishes are the ones that boil slowly~
As always, I hope you enjoy reading! :D
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Fanart: The Brightest Star in the Night Sky, by u/Frostedscales
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Note: This is a Fanfic of the Nature of Predators series by u/Spacepaladin15, that is being reposted from the NatureofPredators sub. Please support the original content.
Thank you to Philodox on discord for proofreading and editing RfD.
Thank you to Pampanope on reddit for the cover art.
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​
Memory Transcript Subject: Sylvan, Venlil Citizen
Date: [Standardized Human Time]: December 13, 2136
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“Everything’s good to go over here, Kenta! How about you?”
“Fine on my end too boss! Though I still don’t know how to feel about how I’ve arranged the sandwiche– err… sylvanas. Cucumber salad next to blueberry? They kind of don’t match…”
“I already told you a million times, they look fine!”
“You sure…?”
“I’m sure! Now are you ready to start this thing?”
“Ready!”
“Then let’s go!”
I shut the door to the kitchen, making sure that I had not left anything behind that would be needed for the day, then began wheeling out the final cart of amenities. As I rolled it down the wooden floor of my emptied out diner, one long serving tray jostled back and forth across the surface top.
I looked down to recap my inventory. A motley of sylvanas cleanly cut into triangles lay in an ornate pattern atop a decorative bed of raw ipsom grain stalks, spiraling around the edges of the plate as it creeped its way closer to the center. The sylvanas were split into clear groups based not only on their filling, but of the colour of that filling as well, creating a literal rainbow of flavours to choose from. By all means, it was an absolutely marvelous display of art; a visual performance that I had no idea could be captured in something like a dish to be served at such a quaint event. Kenta, however, seemed to still be worrying over it.
Despite it apparently being part of the name according to my translator, the Terran fruit named “blueberry” was actually a deep shade of indigo rather than blue, especially when crushed into a form of jam. As a result, lacking any blue to connect the various green options of our rainbow to that of the very limited indigo, Kenta had ended up spending much too long worrying over such a minute detail.
‘What a dummy…’ I thought back to myself with a slight chuckle. ‘I guess he’s worrying about this just as much as I am.’
Hardly two or three steps remained between the food cart and the diner’s entrance. Hastily, I jogged up to the front door to prop it open. However, when I went to turn the handle, I felt it give way without even the slightest push. Someone was pulling it from the other side, causing me to be yanked forward and stumble. Looking up, I saw the rusty figure of Fehnel standing impatiently in the doorway.
“You almost done in here, Sylvan?” she asked in a hurried breath. “Here, let me help you with that.”
Before hearing my response, Fehnel had already grabbed ahold on the cart and began pulling it outside without delay. I let go and didn’t attempt to stop her, knowing full well the farm woman was likely much stronger than I. In a blur, she was already far from the door, and I began jogging after her in an attempt to keep up.
Just as the day before, the Inverter was powered on and running perfectly. The metal pylon let out a slight, continuous hum as it projected an energetic beam from its center, which split at the apex around the height of the Lackadaisy and fell down in a parabolic curve, creating a tangible anti-gravity field in its wake.
Just outside the field, it became immediately clear just how necessary this piece of advanced Federation technology was. Beyond the radiant dome, a thick rain riddled the sky and drowned the world it fell unto. A harsh wind howled and distant thunder roared, which combined with the rain to push against the field to no avail. Within, where so many confectionaries, decorations, and other preparations had been so carefully placed, not even the paw of Solgalick could disrupt us.
“You know this would be goin’ a lot faster if I could jus’ start grabbin’ the food ma’self,” Fehnel commented in a tone too preoccupied to be annoyed.
As I ran after the hauling Yotul, I tried to say, “Fehnel, I’d really appreciate it if you would–”
“I know, I know,” she interrupted back, seemingly distant. “You want me to ‘not go into the diner during the event.’ Listen Sylvan, I get that Kahnta back there is a fainter, but don’t you think that this is a tad extreme? We’re on a tight schedule here, y’know?”
“I know… it’s just kind of a golden rule. I can’t stress to you enough how important it is that nobody does so much as peak in there,” I reiterated as I jogged alongside the speeding Yotul. “And don’t worry. Once everything starts, then you can feel free to socialize and spend the day with your daughter. I’ll take care of restocking the food.”
“I suppose that’s awful nice of ya,” Fehnel breathed out. “Sure you won’t be tirin’ yourself out, hun?”
I shrugged. “Eh. How fast could people possibly eat? It’ll be fine.”
“Careful there. Don’t wanna be sprintin’ before your legs catch up,” Fehnel chuckled. “But I’m plenty thankful for the confidence. I’ll try to hold ya to your word.”
As we moved, I was able to take a brief second to look around. I began to marvel at how far the event had come since its initial inception. And under such short time restrictions as well! Through a combination of both the Lacakdaisy’s furniture, as well as a number of decorations that I had rented, we had ended up with something that I had truly considered exemplary. In traditional Venlil style, a forest of various greenery had been set out in a colourful array of paw-crafted pots and other containers. Small bushels, flowers, a few overhanging trees, and other vegetation stood proudly within. From each, incandescent ornaments of various hues emerged in a bright and brazen display. All of which combined to transform the normally secluded street atmosphere into one that was truly cozy, if not just the slightest bit packed within the bubble. In accordance with one of Fehnel’s initial requests, we had even arranged for a small wooden stage to be brought in, which fit neatly against… something that I would rather not look at…
Of course, decorations aside, one of the most enrapturing displays was that of the food itself. Positioned at various places all around the event’s area, tables upon tables of buffet items had been laid out. It was a marvelous display on all fronts. From the generously sized serving bowls of pasta, plates of still steaming gyoza, and the diverse types and variations of strayu laid in motley rows all throughout, the feast was like a colourful microcosm of everything Kenta and I had been working towards.
But what was even more impressive were all the new additions Kenta had made. Just as expected, my wayward chef had taken the original request and spun it on its tail, seemingly pulling no stops when it came to expanding our already diverse arrangement. From end to end, small, round discs of strayu called “Danishes” lay against each other down the side of one of the tables. Most impressively, the center of each had been filled in with various hues of jam, in a similar style to that of the sylvanas that I was currently wheeling towards it.
On the other side of the same table, a sundry of embellished wooden bowls sat parallel, each filled with various kinds of Venlilian-style salads. I had taken the time to teach him such recipes a good while back, but while at first these seemed to be rather unostentatious, a quick look revealed that Kenta had added his own twist to the otherwise typical mix of local produce. Tossed about each salad were dozens of small strayu cubes called “Croutons,” each baked until crisp and crunchy. What’s more, if the olfactory receptor in my mouth didn’t deceive me, I had even picked up the heavenly aroma of something Kenta had only introduced to me recently as “Garlic,” which had clearly been infused into the cubes.
On another table, steaming crocks of both soups and stews had been laid out for guests to self serve. But in lieu of a bowl, Kenta had elected to do something truly unique. It had taken me a moment to process his idea at first, but hollowed out husks of rotund strayu loaves had been left out for guests to grab, in which they were supposed to fill the “bread bowls” – as Kenta had called them – with the soup and eat them as normal. This even came with the advantage of being able to tear off small pieces of the now soup-soaked strayu, allowing one to enjoy the taste of both simultaneously. This idea, I had soon realized, would be the hardest to explain to any confused guests that might happen by.
As we approached the soup table, Fehnel and I began loading up the cart-full of sylvanas we had brought over onto a free area. We placed them right next to one other new recipe that Kenta had decided to share. A simple display of thinly cut slices of crunchy, lightly seasoned strayu, with a bright red sauce readied next to it that I instantly recognized as being the product of tomatoes mixed with oil. According to Kenta, these “Bruschetta” were a simple, yet simultaneously alluring appetizer, which would do well to pair with the soup he had stirred up.
Once the sylvanas had been laid out, Fehnel felt the urge to ask, “Is that the last of it?”
“Yes, for now,” I replied, absentmindedly stretching my back. “This’ll cover the initial rush of hungry people, I assume. But Kahnta’s already busy working on seconds.”
“Gotta say Sylvan, this is quite the impressive spread,” Fehnel said with a quick, delighted wag of the tail. “Y’know… When I asked for somethin’ new, I wasn’t expectin’ Kahnta over there to whip up so much.”
“Oh this isn’t the new dish you asked for,” I answered flatly. “That’s still being worked on.”
Fehnel froze solid, only her ears remaining seemingly automotive as they slowly shifted towards me. “Wait… what?
“Yeah all of this is just the appetizer according to Kahnta,” I explained, messing with a few arrant sylvanas that had broken symmetry. “There’s going to be one more plate of food that should be coming out shortly. And then dessert after that.”
“That’s… surely somethin’...” was all Fehnel could say. She opened her mouth as if to continue her train of thought, only to have something else pull her attention away.
Peering out into the stormy weather of the darkened town, an eye-catchingly large herd of people were making their way towards the bright dome that sketched our event’s area. Silhouettes of familiar patrons and wayward newcomers alike huddled under their umbrellas. All the while, an excited murmur hummed throughout the air, despite the noise of the rain around them. The guests were here, and they seemed excited.
I peered down at a small data pad. “Oh, second-sun already? Looks like we just barely made it on time.”
Fehnel simply wagged in acknowledgment, still the slightest bit flabbergasted.
I nudged her side, which seemed to knock her out of her trance. “Want to go greet them?”
Taking one look at me, then peering back at the ensemble of strange and alien foods behind her, one of Fehnel’s ears flicked a little. Then, she did the tail equivalent of a Human shrug, letting out a pleased chuckle. Whatever had been on her mind was apparently pushed to the side for now. “Heh, of course hun. Let’s treat ‘em to somethin’ special.”
With a newfound kick in her already hastened step, Fehnel began to proudly jog over towards the approaching crowd. By now, we could already begin to make out some faces, each looking more curious than the last.
In addition to the Brachistochrone Inverter itself, Jeela had also taken the liberty to have a reception area installed in the form of a metallic tunnel about the width of three Venlil. The tunnel seemed to fold and bend the anti-gravity energy around it, allowing for people to easily enter the repulsion field without having to tread through a torrent of redirected rainwater. Additionally, a series of hooks alongside the interior of the tunnel also served as a convenient area for the storage of umbrellas and coats, which our guests quickly began making use of the moment they started funneling through.
Fehnel and I stood at the side of the entrance, welcoming in guest after guest with the appropriate propriety. At first, many of them were stymied in their step, staring in awe at the sanctuary-like atmosphere that had been created in the middle of the street. But almost as soon as they got their bearings, most realigned their immediate priorities, and subsequently made a beeline for the buffet tables. That’s what they were here for, after all. Hopefully they’d come to appreciate the actual reason Fehnel was hosting this event soon enough.
As we busied ourselves, the voices of many excited guests made themselves audible.
“I’ve been looking forward to this!”
“Look at the decorations!”
“I feel like I’m in the Capital!”
“Are you sure all of this is free?”
“The ad said it was! Either way, I need to try some of this!”
Fehnel and I watched in delight as the crowd began to form around the tables, a number of plates I had left out disappearing as fast as the eye could blink. However, it was clear that a majority of the attention received had been focussed solely on the more familiar menu items already offered by the Lackadaisy.
“Think they’re gonna touch any of the new stuff?” Fehnel idly commented, her attention still fixed on the crowd. “It’d be a shame if any of it goes to waste.”
“Oh they will,” I answered without hesitation. “Just give them a moment. They’ll be all over it soon enough.”
Fehnel laughed. “You sound awful confident, don’tcha?”
“Oh please, this is hardly the first time I’ve served some wacky new thing to my customers,” I answered back with a chuckle of my own. “If anything, at this point I’d say I’m quite the expert. Just watch. You’ll see.”
Like clockwork, my precognitive claim had been proven true mere moments later. Some soul amongst the table’s crowd had seemingly been more curious than the rest, and ended up taste-testing one of the bruschetta. It was hard to make out from this distance, but if I had to guess, her ears had perked up and her eyes had widened in surprise. What was made clear, however, was their opinion of the new food, because only a few moments later could their voice be heard.
“You have got to try some of this stuff!” she practically yelled at anyone who would listen. “It tastes like the red stuff that’s on the pasta, but like… even stronger! It’s so good I feel like I died and am one with the Stars already!”
Like a Farsul unto a library, the crowd collectively swiveled their ears and began to gravitate towards the bruschetta with eager eyes. A few more voices piped up in glee, each more delighted than the last as paw after paw descended on the strayu until there was nothing scarce of crumbs left.
‘Guess that’ll be the first thing I’ll need to restock,’ I thought with a passive wave of the tail, before a sudden realization crept into my mind. ‘Ugh… Kenta and I might be busier today than I thought…’
It wasn’t long before the elation of trying something new, mixed with the sudden and devastating lack of bruschetta, had urged our party guests to move on to the other, never before seen options that laid out to fill their fancy. All at once, the wall of wool and fluff had spread out the slightest bit as fresher waters were explored. Plates were filled with various salads, despite the unfamiliar bits of crunchy strayu inside raising some skeptical ears. Helping after helping of the technicolour pastries were reached for as well, with the sylvanas not lasting much longer after that. And most impressively, it seemed that people had quickly begun to figure out the concept of Kenta’s cute “bread bowl” idea as well, even without instruction.
That last turn of events had actually caught me the slightest bit off guard. For the bread bowls being quite possibly the most unique aspect of the event – well, that I knew of – I found myself rather impressed by how fast people were getting the hang of it. Sure, it meant that I wouldn’t have to bother myself with having to go around explaining it to everybody, but in my eyes, there was a bit more to it than that. Perhaps it was a case of grasping at straws, but for the briefest moment, it made me wonder whether or not Humanity’s ideas had been affecting my people more than I had realized. Perhaps, if only in the slightest, Kenta had been opening their minds to more unique ideas than I had given him credit for. Without the slightest bit of hesitancy, the partygoers did well to experiment with more than the obvious, quickly wrapping their minds around something completely new and extraordinary.
I exhaled a short-breathed snicker, shaking the thought out of my head. ‘Calm down there, Sylvan. It’s just some soup and a piece of strayu shaped like a bowl. No need to get all philosophical about it. Still, I guess them figuring it out saves me some time. Good, cause it looks like I already need to start stocking the next round…’
I moved to grab my cart so that I could head back inside, only to have Fehnel call out and grab my attention instead.
“Sylvan, hun,” she began. “Before you go makin’ yourself scarce. I think there’s somethin’ about this here party that you haven’t explained yet.”
My head turned out to face her. “Hm?”
“Now, don’t get me wrong… What you did here is great and all. By all means, whenever it is that Kadew decides to show up here with that date of hers, I’m sure she’ll start coming around to the idea of my peoples’ Runnin’ Day. But…”
I now realized that Fehnel was completely focussed on something off in the distance.
“Oh,” I replied. “That…”
I had done well to ignore it up until this point. In fact, if I tried hard enough, I was even able to keep it completely hidden from my peripheral. But the truth was, no matter where I went or what I did to distract myself, there was no denying that it was there – that She was there.
At the opposite end of the dome, an onyx terror lurked over the ignorant, complacent masses. Its wicked enormity great, and the pressure about it even greater. The form it took was terrifying. An alien pose, unknown to the mind, originated from a people feared by many. Its peering eyes descended as domineering malevolence. And from its onyx chassis, a message rang clear as a day personally forged by Solgalick themself: Even if I couldn’t see her; if I shielded herself from my sight all day… No matter what, She could always see me.
“I’m gonna be honest Sylvan, I did not take you as someone that had a thing for Magister Jeela.”
I shot back quicker than a bolt of lighting. “I DO NOT HAVE A ‘THING’ FOR–” before stopping myself short.
Luckily, my voice had not been noticed among the now loud, chattering crowd about us. Which was good. I was pretty sure that my voice had cracked into an almost childishly high pitch. Taking a deep breath, I yanked my composure back, and stuffed an air of professionalism back into my voice yet again.
“I a-appologize…” I mumbled out, my head shrinking between my shoulders.
“No worries!” Fehnel replied. She couldn’t help but let a few chuckles pour into her voice. “I was just teasin’ is all. But seriously, you’re gonna have to whip up a pretty darn good explanation… Else I’m boutta start thinkin’ that what I just said was true.”
I took a deep breath, which soon shifted into a long-winded sigh. “Listen… It was part of the deal, alright? I’m not proud of it, but it’s there now, and unless you’ve got a herd of Mazic heavylifters at the beck and call, I can’t get rid of it.”
“Part of the deal?” Fehnel repeated.
“It’s my end of the bargain for us being able to have this Inverter during the event. And no, before you ask, it was not worth it,” I explained.
I could do nothing but feel immense shame for the inconvenience. To have something so overbearing, so shamelessly grandstanding placed in the middle of what was supposed to be a quaint event about cross-cultural understanding… It was beyond disrespectful to Fehnel’s original request. It took something that the poor woman had been planning for who knew how long, and brutally morphed it into a shadow of its former self. Into nothing but an ego trip for a politician that probably already surrounded themselves with weed biters and paw lickers.
“Listen…” I said, lowering both my tail and ears in respect. “Fehnel, I apologize profusely for allowing that thing to be placed here. I should have put my paw down and just hosted the event inside like we planned. But it’s too late now. I’m really sorry…”
But to my surprise, Fehnel had not been paying attention to my display of humility. Instead, her focus was still on that of the statue.
“I think it looks neat!” she said in a cheery tone.
“Y-you do?” I mumbled back.
“Well yeah!” She wagged her tail to assure me. “Sure it’s a bit, err… unconventional… But I think it’s got quite a bit of charm to it!”
“That’s… one way of saying it…”
“Besides, it might not be the worst thing to have somethin’ from the Magisters here with us,” Fehnel continued to think out loud. “Sorta gives this whole event a kinda official feel, y’know? Like it’s lettin’ everyone here know that the Yotul have got just as much right bein’ under the same heedin’ ears of the Governor as anyone else. Sure, dependin’ on where you are and who you ask, that may or may not be a good thing. But it at least means it’s harder to ignore us now. Heck, might even convince some of the people ‘round here to open up a little to the other parts of us.”
“Well… so long as you’re happy with it, I suppose?” I worded awkwardly.
If I had been completely honest with myself, I was expecting the slightest bit more… Well, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps anger? Annoyance? Unrelenting grief that invariably led to locking yourself in a closet, crying? But there was no sign of that in the rusty Yotul’s eyes. As she stared up at the onyx marvel, I couldn’t help but feel as though there was no sign of the negativity I had anticipated in the slightest. Instead, all that remained was that of a solemn pride. Maybe she was lying to herself. Like it was some sort of coping mechanism that helped her work around this unwelcome development in her plans. But regardless, the end result remained. And I was left feeling relieved at being able to avoid yet another hurdle.
‘Fehnel really knows how to look at the optimistic side of things, I guess… Good. I could really use some more of that around here.’
“Feel free to run along now, Sylvan,” she said, waving me a satisfied flick of the tail. “I’ll keep waitin’ here so I can greet the other guests. And I do hope you and Kahnta can bring out the main course whenever it’s ready. I wanna make sure everything’s ready to blow Kadew’s fur off whenever she decides to get here.”
I had to force myself not to flash a Human smile in return. She and the rest of the partygoers had no idea what was coming. And to a certain extent, neither did I. He did mention he had some sort of “surprise” coming, after all. But I always trusted Kenta for his word, and knowing what my chef was capable of, it never occurred to me once that it wouldn’t live up to the expectations. In fact, I was counting on him to exceed them.
I turned around and headed back to the kitchen. It was time to get the real party started.
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