From the log of Edward Price – Clerk for Diplomat Howard Weathers – 03.28.2803
I suppose a summary is in order for things to be clear. Humanity has a bit of a reputation as an odd lot in the galaxy. Most aliens don’t know really know what to think about us. You see, most aliens are actually somewhat boring, having fallen into galactic societal niches over thousands of years. The Atroxians are were space pirates, the Vontacruz own the casinos and travel cruise industries, and the Hordun operate the most efficient morgues this side of the galaxy – usually because of the Atroxians. But the Delridians? They are diplomats. And dare I say that they are the weird ones.
Delri Prima is the homeworld of the Delridians, a tall, lanky race who look like the grimdark cousins of a Star Wars Kaminoan. Brilliant medics, they apparently don’t see a difference between medical work and diplomacy, seeing both fields as the healing arts. Their medicocracy has a long list of accomplishments throughout the galaxy, enough that it’d look like an 18-hour credit reel on a movie. My guess is that they may have been the “Humans” of the galaxy preceding us before they finally settled, and rumors have it that the K’kituun Death Puppets are an ancient offshoot from their early days on the galactic stage.
But more to the point, after about 180 years on the galactic stage, Humanity has made a decent name for ourselves as the handyman and eccentric nerd. We are celebrated, thrown strange looks, worried glances, and altogether treated as small children. Though with the destruction of Axtroxia, they may want to worry about what will happen when we hit puberty. The Delridians have already been through that, though they were never as eccentric as we are.
They reached out to Humanity with a diplomatic frigate appropriately named Olive Branch about a year ago. I’ve learned they like to reflect the cultures they are talking to, so as to ease negotiations. Can’t imagine what the Atroxian equivalent was. Probably something like ‘Torn Heads’. Regardless, Diplomat Weathers was finally selected as the Earth delegate to talk on Delri Prima, and oh boy. That is a dark world. Like, bring a flashlight dark. I don’t know whether it is the slow spin of the planet, or the climate generators they have, but the entire twilight band is just dark and grey. It rains, and thankfully it is safe water, but it is eerie. From the embassy city they built to make us more comfortable, you can look out across the Delridian jungle and see the many other diplomatic cities slowly being devoured by the vines and trees.
The first night was fine, though I’m not sure any of us slept well. We were each provided a separate room or, well, house really. The entire city was made of a cold stone, themed after some old Italian city on Earth. The wind slipped through the narrow streets with a soft whistle, bringing with it a faint jungle fog. Somewhere down the street was a clattering window shutter, but with how much stone they used, and the strange alignment of the streets, you could hear a pin drop from eight blocks away!
Talks went well for the first three days as Diplomat Weathers and the Delridians got to know each other. I met with and discussed a number of cultural similarities with a member of the alien entourage, a Nurse Kelayo, when I wasn’t with the others in my group exploring the city. She was very proud of the settlement they built for us, but in our talks, she asked what we thought of the book. What book?
Well, after having a wonderful meal with my coworkers and some of the alien entourage, we said our farewells and parted ways. Kelayo was vague, but had explained how they had acquired a copy of the book, and that she hoped that we enjoyed the effort she put into it.

I didn’t look into it immediately when I returned to the lonely, lifeless house that was my quarters. Mark was my closest neighbor, and he was a block down. The Delridians, fresh from talks with the Hordun, thought we may want some privacy from each other. And while it is nice not having to hear Mark snore in the cabin like on the flight here, the house was a little… too private.
It was as I was preparing to turn off the light to go to sleep that I thought to look in the nightstand beside me. Kelayo had told us about the book, and when I opened the top drawer, it was indeed there. Sitting center and alone was an old Earth book of gnarled leather and no visible title. Whatever poor creature the Delridians had used to make the cover had terrible skin!
Opening the book, I found it to have been printed in an old dialect of English from before the Third World War, with some much older words I did not recognize. It certainly looked like it was printed in the archaic methods of old Earth, with wet ink instead of modern digital ink that provided touch-based pseudo-memoric context.
I began to flip through the pages of this strange book, turning up the brightness on the nightstand lamp to see better. The faded pages of the book looked sick and moldy, and my skin crawled just touching it, but the letters, despite the stains and grunge, seemed to pop from the page in crisp black. In fact, the ink was so black that it felt like I was staring into the void with each letter. Kelayo’s book was some archaic text of old Earth culture from the end of the 20^th century, though I did not recognize the name. Written by a Bishop Simon from some archaic cult or religion, the book functioned as a “spellbook” like a deepdive virtual reality fantasy game might have. It was filled with a plethora of gods I did not recognize, and a ton of phonetic gibberish that sounded good when said, but easily complicated.
I hadn’t gotten too far when I heard a man’s scream next to me. Jumping out of my skin, I found no one there. But I remembered where I was, and crept to the window. It was Mark’s voice, more panicky than I had ever heard him. Peeking through the slats of the window, I scanned the street towards Mark’s place. The light was on, and someone was shuffling down the street, murmuring in pain.
Rushing down to the street, I rushed out to help him. Mark’s mutterings were too quiet, and he was holding something to his chest. It may have been a minute before I collected myself and tried to get answers from him, but you have to understand, I’ve never seen a dying man before. Not in real life. In the dim and permanent gloom, I could barely make out the trail of blood behind him. He pleaded again and again, and I had to find out where he was injured, and what it was he was carrying.
I went to take what he held, only to realized that in my own fervor to aid him I still had that creepy book. I put that down to wrench free Mark’s own possession. I really wish I hadn’t, for his grip was weak, with only one hand. I held his other, and everything above it.
My own voice was the next I heard echoing down the street as I most certainly fell backwards. Sorry Mark, but I lost your arm. Well, your first one. The second is decorating some chandelier somewhere, courtesy of Vanessa.
Please understand that for anyone in my situation, gorey horror was never my fancy, and I hope no one in the auditing board holds it against me. I would bet credits that any of you would have done much the same as I did.
Time is… unreliable on Delri Prima, with its twilit band and gloom. The only thing that moves is that blasted fog. And the vines. Especially the vines. I’m not sure how long I ran, but Vanessa was the one to find me, flanked by a street littered with Human bodies. Far more people than joined us on the crew… I think. You might want to review the ship manifest just to be sure.
Vanessa, once she verified my identity, guided me through the littered street, still gurgling and reaching out to us. Give her a raise, by the way. She’s the one that got us out of there. We met up with Dwayne and Harry, both armed with metal pipes and whatever other junk they salvaged, and we retreated to a boarded up house with other surviving members of the crew. They were glad to see me, though I don’t remember who they were. Many were new faces to the ship for this mission.
We settled here for hours? A day? Our comms were filled with static, and we couldn’t reach Mr. Weathers to see if he was ok. We needed to get off this planet. Someone mentioned that the ship was still parked at the landing bay. All eyes turned to someone in the back of the group, who slowly stood up, her form long and lanky. Kelayo, the Delridian nurse.
Vanessa worked with Kelayo on a plan to move through the city to the landing bay, while the rest of us sought supplies. This house had a basement, connected to a series of tunnels which we would use to slip under whatever muttering, mumbling horrors pleaded us to come outside.
Slowly, and as quietly as we could, our train of survivors crept through the tunnels. Our flashlights that Ben had found were pathetically dim, and frequently flickered out, sounding with a loud clunk whenever someone whacked it awake. Icy water dripped from the long tangled hairs of wriggling moss that clung to and between the bricks, the lights illuminating white lice-like that lived within the tangle.
Splashing was the only sound we heard for a long time, along with someone’s horrid cough. He was in the back of the line, far behind me, but kept coughing and groaning. Others frequently shushed him, louder than he coughed. But for all the good their efforts to keep him quiet were, it paled in comparison to Kelayo’s odd excitement. When I inquired her about her unusual positivity, she admitted fascination over the many accounts of average Humans combatting the supernatural evils that threatened Earth. How we could survive on a planet infested with the dead with only equally dark magicks astounded her, despite our culture not having widespread knowledge or application of this means of survival. It was faint, but she had nodded at the book. Why did I still have this disgusting leatherback that seemed to shiver in the cold?
I apologize for any impact I may have had on diplomatic relations with the Delridians, but I said some uncouth remarks about the whole situation and the book. I flipped it open to a random page to give an example, forgetting in my annoyance just how dark it was in the tunnels. But that ink… that horrid archaic stain… was fully legible. I admit I came to a stop in awe, though shortlived as the train of people behind me bumped into me. That coughing was gone.
So were half the people we had been travelling with. Kelayo glanced around with a chitter. She was having too much fun with the spooky, and now we heard skittering and scrape scrape scraping on the bricks. Vanessa fired a shot down the tunnel and urged us to run, so we did.
We were near the landing bay when we ducked into a sideroom per Kelayo’s prompting, and shoved a convenient table in the way of the door. The skittering was above us on the ground floor too, and then someone grabbed my foot. It may have been Mark. Well, the part of Mark I dropped.
Long gnarled fingers covered in dirt were the hallmark of these freaky things. Human hands with a life of their own, skittering around like bugs as they fled the flashlight’s beam and sought dark corners. These shelters included their unholy wriggling up our pants and jackets, some grips strong and muscular, and others gentle and cautious. If you have ever had a massage, you may never want one again once a chilly, slimy, dismembered hand tries to nest between your shoulder blades.
Vanessa fired off a few shots in her desperate attempt to keep the grabby hands off, though she nicked Ben’s ear in the process. The loud noise scattered the skitterhands enough for us to fling the last few from our persons. Vanessa slammed the book I still carried, ordering me to read it. She had lost her copy early on, but had the gist of its contents.
The ink on the book was darkest on one particular page, with a weird symbol that looked like it said XOOD. An old-Earth linguist may understand it better than I. Kelayo was forced to provide guidance, as she was the expert on the book, and with many, many attempts, and a dark horde gathering upstairs, were ready to begin. Vanessa was out of shots in her gun, and Ben and Dwayne were futiley pushing back the horde of impossible crewmen. These people smelled horribly of rotten meat, and overtook Ben first, followed swiftly by Dwayne.
Vanessa had backed into a corner, clearly scared. I can’t blame her, since I was, too. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t join her in the false safety of the corner. The rotten crew… this dead crew, was in the room with us, and were already grabbing me. Amidst the noise and confusion, I could hear Vanessa being attacked behind me, and the dull nails of my own assailants tearing at my skin. Kelayo, her form thin and dark, simply stood amidst the dead.
Read it, she said.
Say it with all your heart.
I remember the word that pierced the world that day, but can’t remember saying it. But my throat burns whenever I utter it now. BARASHAKUSHU. The dead froze in place, their fingers dug deep into my skin. BARASHAKUSHU. Limp, lifeless, just as they should be. BARASHAKUSHU. The haze in the air, even in the basement, lifted. BARASHAKUSHU. Vanessa breathed deep as I pulled her from the bodies and out the house to the crowded, lifeless street.
We limped, though we did not bleed, filled with holes and grime, and caked in blood. Kelayo followed wraithlike behind us, always ten paces behind. The landing bay was before us. Our ship and salvation was before us.
Diplomat Weathers was fine, though alarmed at our state. Delridian doctors tended to us as we explained what happened. A full transcript is available via the ship’s DIA-Log.
When all was said and done, the Delridian diplomat thanked us for being so willing to open discourse. To celebrate successful talks between our species, he offered us a parting feast. He motioned Kaleyo over, who had apparently been tasked with researching Human culture for the talks.
She explained over dinner about how she had poured over a stunning variety of Human dishes from our many cultures, but that she had settled on one that appeared to be a universal favorite. An Italian dish of long, stringy noodles over their equivalent of a white cream sauce. And dinner was fantastic! But Kaleyo seemed confused as well, stating that she had a difficult time picking out the right recipe. The instructions were apparently all over the place with a lot of strange steps that seemed superfluous to food preparation.
I asked her what she meant, to which she replied, “The base ingredients were simple, almost mundane. Of note, the various rituals in the preparation exhausted many of our best doctors. Some are still seeking treatment after one batch escaped. You Humans have a very strange culture of food, especially with the names. I believe you called this one… creepy pasta?”
Then the meatball on my fork blinked at me.

Memory Transcription Subject: Talyn, Extermination Guild Paramedic, Sivkit Grand Herd.
First/Previous/Next
I… I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out why a demon would go behind her superiors for some prey.
Variah hasn’t stopped visiting this cage… t-though, I try to limit exchanging words with the beast as her proximity gnaws at my nerves to no end. Her moving maw leaves an unobstructed view at a row of endless pointed teeth that could easily crush through Sivkit bones, if at any moment she deemed that her desire. However, after all this time… she hadn't mauled me yet.
Nor did any of the other, more openly wicked beasts let their instincts get the better of them either, so I suspect that these demons can reign in their bloodlust better than the Arxur can, a-at least for practical reasons, but I don't exactly want to put that to a test. D-Damnit, why is she doing this? It’s difficult to keep my mind off it when everything else was a failure.
I… I’ve been trying to find a way to break free ever since the predator keeping me company gave her warning about the rest of her kind. N-not that I needed any monster to clue me in on their malicious intent or more prompting to look for a way out of here, but so far, any avenue to escape seems completely futile, at least… f-for now. Can’t give up.
J-Just remember your training… t-though it’s not exactly useful here.
Most of my guild practice had me safely locked within a medical wagon, waiting around on standby in case a front line exterminator suffered a mauling. I- I don’t have enough personal experience with this sort of thing to keep myself level headed, t-to know what to do, b-but… but I’ve heard stories from my… f-from my now ex-colleagues, about retrieving escaped convicts back for treatment.
I- I could take a few pages out of their play book, copy how they got out of their facilities and avoid falling for the same pitfalls that got them found. E-Even if doing so would be more than unorthodox, but… I c-can’t just sit around forever.
Even if for now all I can do is watch out for opportunities, think and plan.
Occasionally, the scientists lead me out of this box to conduct new experiments. I was hoping to find something useful when taken from these confines but I'm always trailed by those towering guards who never take their vicious eyes off me, or let me step out of line… or even let the scientists come too close when not instructed to. The director's men, as I've heard the so-called doctors call them while whispering amongst themselves; e-evidently also afraid of the beastly soldiers.
T-There are cameras everywhere, in every hallway and almost in every room. The few that don’t have them always have a beast there present with me, rarely taking an eye off me, so I can’t bet on finding a blindspot outside this room.
Main doors are locked with codes and keycards, but that doesn't matter much because if I managed to get my paws on a set I'd need to carry around a damned stool to reach a security pad while standing on my hind toes because of these giant freaks. Not even knowing where any door leads since I can't read their scratchy script.
Worse yet, from what I could tell while eavesdropping…
This facility is built at least several levels underground, and it’s located near the outskirts of a m-major predator population center. Meaning that any exits going “topside” had to be intentionally dug out by design, and almost definitely surveyed by guards and cameras.
Only to be surrounded by a countless horde of sapient predators once I got out, a-and… given that I’m at the edge of a monster city and how untamed my crash area appeared, the zone marked for emergency landing for all falling vessels, I… I must have been taken far from any other Sivkit survivors on this planet.
C-Constantly watched, locked and isolated. E-Everything, everything is stacked up against me… D-Damnit, j-just, just move forward, k-keep thinking… I-Ironically, my best bet for escape might be in this very room.
A ventilation duct right behind the bed, t-the only one I could reach with pipes that look wide enough to squeeze into if I managed to get the grate off, c-climb up, if that’s p-possible, u- until I feel fresh air.
The glass screen is positioned on the other side of the bed, with the grate being obscured further by the counter at the bedside and I’ve noticed that the cameras start moving back and forth at night, or at least, when the lights shut off, possibly going into an automated mode when the beasts stop watching the cell… t- the demons have to sleep too at some point I suppose, n-no better time to try.
Every couple of minutes as the cameras move, the lenses line up away from the bed for a few seconds at a time, granting me one consistent blindspot where I could fiddle with the screws if I kept my paw hanging off the bed when pretending to sleep.
But the damned grate is bolted in too tight.
I tried using my claws as an improvised screwdriver, wedging them into the divots and twisting… but those attempts only cost me a few nails with nothing to show for it. So if I had kept it up eventually the predators could notice that all my claws were suddenly wearing away. The demons would scour every surface for the cause, not something I can risk if I want to hold onto the only possible escape route I could find.
I just need something metal… something that wasn’t initially in shortage before I figured out the truth and tried to defend myself, i-if only I managed to maintain a cooler head back than… D-damnit, still at square zero, f-for now, I- I just need to bide my time… h-however long I might have.
T-The predator scientists seem to be conducting more and more redundant tests now, w-with some beginning to whisper about getting started on more t-thorough research, especially when they think I’m out of ear shot. I… I might not have long left before they just decide to dissect me.
“You hanging in there, Talyn?” A long dull claw poked my cheek, sending sharp shivers through my core.
It jolted me back to reality and forced me to regain awareness of the silver predator looming by the bedside, w-whose presence slipped my mind after a-somehow allowing my guard down around her.
“Heh, doesn’t really look like you’ve taken a liking to the book… you’ve been staring at the wall for a while now.” Variah’s voice almost sounded dejected, her head pointed down at the bizarre novel while flipping through its yellowed pages in an apathetic manner.
All I could do was lay behind the covers, grasping onto them as if they could shield me if the demon had a shift in whims, poking my head out while unable to look away as fur all along my back raised with pins and needles shooting through my skin.
An uncomfortable silence swept the room when Variah's horrid eyes began staring down at me, t-though… t-they almost looked tired and unmotivated, like they were begging for something?
“Ah-I… I spaced out for a minute, ah- I’m s-sorry.” The predator raised a single ear at me, s-surprised that I actually answered her this time, and I… I'm not s-sure why I did it either.
Her ears perked up a little, while I briefly flinched away as she opened up her maw, but quickly found that she only did so to speak again. “You don’t have to apologize, I… I can stop reading if you don’t want to hear it?”
The question actually paused me for a minute, a part of me couldn’t stand having to bare a predator’s presence constantly while hearing her voice narrating some damned book that doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense, but I… partly hating myself for it, but I p-prefer hearing Variah’s voice over the quiet, e-even if it's wrong to be listening to a predator. “Y-you… you can c-contiunue… p-please.”
Variah huffed to herself, keeping her ears pinned back in an awkward manner while lingering a strange, unnerving gaze on me for an uncomfortable minute, before turning back to the book and raising her ears up a little. “Alright, alright… I’ll just start over with the chapter.”
“O-Okay…” I muttered, but it made no difference either way. It’s not like I was even able to listen fully while all those things are constantly prowling around me, my instincts getting the better of me… or, with every clashing thought swirling around my mind. About what happened, about what they are?
B-But I got bits and pieces here and there, just enough to roughly know what’s going on. It detracts from everything dire, but I… I can allow myself this one distraction from this place. Even if willingly indulging in some predator’s work just makes my core feel vile. Though, from what I’ve followed, it… it feels like listening to a lie, n-not like the type of fantasy a predator should either read or write about, but that thing looks far too old to be a forgery for my sake.
“For two years their engines roared, two years of steady descent as long white trails of plasma were cast forth into the inky void, decelerating the wanderer on their journey before the antimatter drives were cut and the great vessel came to a halt on its final destination, after centuries, settling into orbit around Aldiel star.
Awe and wonder resonated from the crew, the voyage was long, with countless wonders and detours on their journey through the Galaxy, but it has been twelve-hundred years since the 1st generation set them on this path, twelve-hundred years so that the 48th could bask in the light of the star that guided their ancestors since the days of wind and sails.
And, since it’s mysterious call beckoned them into the stars…”
Variah’s voice filled the room with considerable mirth in her tone despite her prior hints at treachery… doing a far too convincing job at masking that her prior warning ever happened. Though I- I might be going crazy… but there’s almost an air of stress o-or sadness behind her horrid eyes.
S-Somehow, I… I’m not sure what to think about that predator.
She doesn't fit in with the rest of the beasts roaming around this facility, and for a second… You could almost forget that she's a natural hunter, that the being sitting by my side didn’t evolve to kill and gorge on flesh like the rest of them because those facts clash against the image painted right before my eyes.
The same frightening figure doing something as innocuous as reading through a novel by my bedside, as- as if I was some lost child cooped up in a Zurulian nursery.
However, the beast herself went through apparent lengths to reaffirm my sense of danger here while displaying a clear aptitude towards deception, lying even to her own kind… i-it seems foolish to doubt their nature now.
Y-Yet… seeing her yapping about some fiction novel with such glee, I… I can’t exactly see a monster cut from the same cloth as the Arxur. No Grey in existence would ever try to help prey, nor would they ever produce a novel, much less the contents in this one.
P-Predator explorers traveling across the stars in so-called generation ships, i-it’s… r-rather dumb, honestly. The idea of anyone being crazy enough to cross the void without FTL is ridiculous, though, p-predators fantasizing about it is certainly terrifying. I-imagining what lengths they could go to breach their system… I should be happy that the primitive hunters apparently deluded themselves into believing that super luminal speeds are impossible… at least, until we came along, a-and broke that notion for them.
W-when Variah said the book was a story about their vision for space travel I thought I’d be faced with an early glimpse into the nightmarish future we just created. A ravenous horde of canide demons unleashed to murder their way across the stars, if they got their claws on our FTL tech. Bombing worlds, enslaving cultures and spilling blood before tearing into sapient flesh. Y-Yet, that wasn’t in the pages… t-the opposite was.
Wanderers going from system to system, discovering new life, new wonders, new people… and embracing them with open arms instead of clenching teeth, even if by their own perception that life seemed incomprehensible or monstrous… i- initially, at least.
I… I don’t know.
The predators must have been under the delusion that most sapient life would be just as flesh craving as they are before I spilled the truth, with only a few chapters depicting contact with herbivore species, this being portrayed as some unique encounters, a-and… p-peaceful, n-no hunting, no war. W-Why?
Comparably, there were just as little chapters depicting conflict altogether, n-nothing that would delve into their true nature, a-at least… n-not what their nature s-should be.
It's d-difficult to reconcile everything I’ve heard with what we know about predatory minds, with the confessed threat lurking within this facility, though I can’t exactly ignore it either… I-It doesn’t seem like hunger alone drives these monsters, not like the Greys… t-then what does?
T-There… There was a moment where I almost wanted to just ask, t-though I stopped myself before I could do something that stupid. D-Damnit… What am I even doing listening to that damned thing?
Those weren’t the only things that stuck out while listening, more peculiar passages here and there… from what I can tell these beasts hold a strong aversion towards foreign diseases.
With characters being weary of exposing themselves to alien atmospheres before developing cures and vaccines, or trying to prevent their own predator sicknesses from spreading onto other worlds. It explains the suits from earlier, and why some of the predators wear them even now, but not so much the reason for the alarm in the first place… I would have thought that carnivores should be accustomed to carrying pathogens?
Stranger is that they seem to expect to find life in almost every system, even among inhospitable worlds with characters being surprised to find a barren system, or that “there is only one habitable world around the star.”
Or when finding extinct civilizations… a- and mourning their loss.
I-It’s… it’s not like life is rare in the galaxy, but Grand Herd scouts would weep in joy if someone ever found a corner of space as fertile as envisioned. It's… odd, usually its the opposite for species that developed electricity on their own and found the universe quiet, e-except th-the Verin and Onkari… a pair species.
E-Earlier, it sounded like Variah mentioned some others, w-with some notable differences from her. C-Could there… Considering their views about herbivores, t-than it would be a… n-no, I- I don’t know. W-What are the c-chances, and p-predators would conquer any neighbors… r-right?
D-Damnit, I-I’m just going insane in this… this glorified cattle pen, t-trapped for who knows how long? J-Just questioning myself, w-with no one but horrid predators.
Argh! This book! It… i-it really isn’t something a predator should indulge in. Yet some sapient beast wrote it, w-while Variah seems enamored with that thing, the covers seemingly worn from use. What could a hunter like her see in a story almost void of violence?
Reading through the pages with perked up ears, while casting the occasional glance at me to make sure I’m not totally ignoring her, a w-weary look painted on her ugly face.
Sh- e-earlier she mentioned that… t-that she reads that thing during dark times, i-is… is now… No, w-why are you thinking about that now? How can I trust a single word coming out of that maw? I-It could all just be manipulation a-and you’d be falling right into it like s-some dumb, p-predator-brained Venlil?!
T-Though if… if she isn’t as… D-Damnit, my time might be running out, a-and I’m short of options. If there’s even a slim chance that she’s not lying, I… d-despite what she is, despite better judgment, I… I wish I could count her as an ally in this horrid place, w-without fearing any ulterior motives she could have for trying to help me earlier.
If they were the Greys, I could chuck it up to hunger for alien flesh, s-some ploy to get everything for herself… but that doesn’t seem so clear anymore, when their… agitation doesn’t seem focused on their cravings, and when Variah stands out further from the other demons… She must have had a reason.
This… t-this is incredibly foolish, b-but I clenched my shivering paws and cautiously turned my head towards the demon, taking a shaken breath and opening my mouth to speak. “V-variah…?”
The huntress paused some senseless tangent about dyson swarms and ring worlds, whatever that even was… before turning her horrid eyes on me in a quizzical manner and forcing me to gulp after managing to grab her full attention.
“W-Why… w-why are you not like t-the others?”
The silver demon stared at me for a moment with confusion, before taking a claw underneath her chin and scratching while glancing to the side as if looking for an answer. “Oh- erm… My mother hailed from a nation in the far, far south, the native people have similar coats on that continent. Why?”
Coat? “Wha- n-no, I-I mean, why a-are you here, w-why are you s-so interested in aliens? T-The others, t-they are… t-they are more h-hostile, c-cold, y-you aren’t?”
“Ohh, I see… There might be many reasons, Talyn, but I think most are just scared.” Variah looked away from me and pointed her eyes towards the ceiling before continuing on.
“Everything on Valh was turned on its head when you crashed, and no one knows what's going to happen, or what your people even want… but so far their actions haven’t made you seem very approachable, and your reaction to us hasn’t exactly reassured anyone here either.”
“S-Scared… O-Of us? Y-you can't be s-serious, p-predators c-can’t feel true f-fear, n-not because of p-prey, you- you c-cause fear…” She paused and stared at me for a few uncomfortable seconds, her ears pinned tight to her skull while ducking her head a little more at my comment.
“You have some… interesting views Talyn, I have to say. The things you say… they can be quite silly sometimes. Of Course we have fear, I… erm, people thought the world was ending because of the flashes, because of your ships meteoring through the damn sky… Do you really think no one was scared?”
T-There was a pleading glint within her exasperated eyes, paired with ears that stayed pinned to the back of her skull as a paw rose up to hide her face. This… t-this doesn't feel like a fake reaction.
I… d-don't know, m-maybe if… If they did misidentify our burning ships as hurling meteors then it would make sense even for predators to experience the same amount of dread as herbivores do, though I can’t see those instincts sticking once we hit the ground, f- fear of the unknown then? W-What c-could predators fear in the unknown, b-bigger predators?
“I-If they are acting out of f-fear… T-Then why are you so different? A-Are you not s-scared… i-is that w-why you are fascinated by aliens, m-more willing to be approached?”
“Gods, of course I'm scared, I just… have hope that things won't turn out for the worst… and no, it’s nothing to do with fear. I've been interested in this sort of thing since I was a teen, in large part due to this very book… I must have read it cover to cover just about a hundred times.”
“B-But why? W-why would a- a being like you care for something like that?”
“I… I'm not sure, it's nice to read something optimistic, no? I got it from my parents when the world didn't seem so hopeful, I’d read it all the time whenever they went away… I guess it was a nice distraction during the war… now it’s something I can remember them by.”
The predator's long ears slumped low as she closed the novel, slowly tracing clawed digits across its sealed pages while staring at the worn out cover, eventually putting it back into the bag. Are… are her progenitors dead? Y-You could imagine a predator cub feeling despair when losing a vital guardian that was keeping them alive, n-not a fully mature one.
“Y-You have families?”
“Heh, of course we do, big ones usually, is that not common?”
“I-It… it is.” My body shuddered knowing that these terrifying beings come in large groups, something that goes counter to the anti-social nature of the Arxur, however my reaction caused the silver predator to grow even more despondent.
“Ahh… monsters aren't meant to have families, no?” Her long snout pointed down at the floor while crossing her paws together. I-It was such a strange feeling seeing her like this, i-in such a passive state next to prey… o-only drawing her image further than the beasts we know.
“M-Monsters d-don’t… b-but you do… I- I don't r-really understand w-what you are.”
Variah raised one ear at me, slowly pointing her head half way in my direction before lingering a stare from a single eye. “You… can always ask, you know. I’ll answer anything you want to know, just like before. What do you want to hear?”
J-Just ask? H-Heh… i-it can’t exactly be the same once you know you’re talking to a flesh eater, though, I… I think these beasts have to be a tamer breed of monsters than the Arxur, c-closer to true sapience, a-at least compared to those cursed reptiles. D-Damn, what harm could finding out more about their nature really do?
“A-Alright… I- I don’t know, l-let me think…” My thoughts traced over our conversation, until they landed upon something that stood out, o-one of many things not fitting of a predator. “E-Earlier you mentioned gods, d-do you have a religion?”
“Many. I don’t believe in anything of the sort myself, not really anyway… but most of my family prays to the old gods. People all around Valh most commonly follow the new pantheon and the nomad faiths it originated from.”
“M-Many? Okay then… w-what do you p-predators believe in then?”
“It depends, I guess… Most gods are meant to embody a part of nature in some way, the popular ones usually correspond to some star or celestial object in the sky… like I said I don't really put much stock into the supernatural so I don’t know much, though it… can be uncanny how many things are close to being correct in the nomad myths.”
Nature? Not something I expected, but I suppose predators worshiping aspects of nature isn't inconceivable when it's their hunting grounds. Though, it was worrying to hear a predator getting nervous about their own belief systems. “T-The nomads? You… you mentioned them before, Teh… Tesh, yes? W-What’s so b-bizarre about their beliefs?”
“Oh… yes! You actually rem-” The predator's volume spiked along with terror within my chest, but she stopped herself the moment I flinched away.
“O-Oh, I… I didn't mean to shout, s-sorry. They just can be… curious. Really secretive and stubborn about sharing their lores with us but we had some of their legends written down from centuries back and they always just… seem to know things, or at least, are close to vaguely knowing things they really shouldn't until modern times.”
Not that I have much faith in anything she says to me, but my skepticism was certainly beginning to grow. “W-What do you mean, like what?”
“Where can I even start? From what we can tell they always had an obsession with the night sky, but what’s kinda scary is that they have star charts showing surprisingly correct models of our system, with planets that are invisible to the naked eye… a-and later proven real with the invention of telescopes. M-Most were anyway, except for the supposed distant ones.
They knew of new continents and their rough shapes before they were even discovered, they had vague beliefs about the world and basic biology that weren’t too far off from reality if you exclude all the mysticism. They say that their gods granted them knowledge, I… sometimes find it difficult to explain it any other way.”
I've heard of faiths from half the Galaxy, but never had anyone tell me about getting preordained knowledge about science before. “Centuries you say, erm… I-if I were to b-believe you… are you sure t-these nomads haven’t been contacted by other aliens before o-or something?”
“Hah, if you dig around the internet for long enough I’m sure you’d stumbled upon some conspiracy about the Tesh somehow coming from Tielen or something crazier, but I really doubt that.” She chuckled to herself, before abruptly stopping and looking at me with crooked ears. “W-Wait, you… y-you don't know tha- I… I'll tell you later.”
Something about that answer felt off, b-but I couldn’t pinpoint what. “T-These nomads… a- are they just as frightening as y-you…?”
“I'm not frightening, Talyn… but, I suppose if you need a comparison, erm… I guess you might be a tiny bit taller than your average Tesh if you stood on your back legs, take that however you like.”
That much of a difference, i-is she serious?! T-there really might be another species here… t-two predators species o-on the same world?! That… that just can’t be right, p-predators would see another race as competition, a-and she doesn't speak of them as an enemy… m-maybe it's some weaker subspecies that's tolerated enough to not be driven to extinction?
“A-Alright… e-enough about that, p-please.” Whatever the truth is, the last thing I want to hear about is how diverse in form the monsters I’m surrounded by are, n-not when the whole point of us leaving federation space was to evade a pair of hunters… j-just like herself.
It felt… wrong, just considering this question that came to my mind, but having contact with a speaking monster, willing to answer any question… it sowed a certain level of morbid curiosity that couldn’t be ignored. “W- w-what do you feel when you go on a hunt, when you c-catch prey? D-Do you… do you do it often?”
I took a gulp when those words left my lips, but Variah just tilted her head at me as if my query made less sense than warp drive engineering. “When I hunt? Talyn I… I don’t hunt, not anymore anyway. My uncle took me a few times when I was younger, but it’s not something that I, or most people, do on a regular basis… it's not really my thing either.”
“Yo- you don't go hunting?! Y-You’re a carnivore, h-how… how d-do you g-get flesh?!”
“At the market…” Her voice sounded exasperated, like the apparently non-hunting predator couldn’t believe I had to ask.
Having to Imagine these demons selling bodies at a store like they’re some commodities is nothing short of horror, likely coming from cattle farms if most of them really don’t hunt, b-but… it’s inconceivable that a predator would forgo their own personal blood drive and delegate hunting to someone else… n-not her thing?
“Y-You still hunted prey b-before, w-what did you feel when… w-when you k-killed them?”
The predator looked unsure what to say, looking to the side and rubbing her ear. “I… I only managed to shoot something once, I… I guess I felt a rush at the time, pride… along with some pity for the thing. Again, it’s not something I liked, but I don’t feel bad about it, Talyn… I’m sorry if that’s not something you want to hear from me.”
Despondence grew within my heart as she confessed to having no remorse for the life taken, y-yet, she understands enough compassion to attempt alleviating my feelings about it? With a meek voice I tried to speak up again. “B-But… c-couldn’t you just s-stop eating f-flesh? Y-You can eat r-roots and f-fruit, e-even if i-it needs to be b-burnt… t-there is no need for m-murder.”
“Murder?” Variah looked at me in confusion, lingering a concentrated gaze on me for some time. “Talyn… why do you think carnivores eat meat?”
“T-To sate your b-bloodlust… t-they say you c-can’t help yourself, i-it's in your instincts to k-kill.” Variah furrowed her eyes at me and pinned back her ears, though this time it didn’t come off as stress, rather… bewilderment?
“Listen, we eat meat because it’s a physical nutritional need. We can’t eat plant matter like you do because we lack the right enzymes to digest it properly, and regardless of that, meat has proteins my body can’t synthesize on its own so I would eventually starve to death if I ate nothing but plants, cooked or not.”
She grabbed both ears and started rubbing them in an anxious manner. “Sure, instincts do play a role in how predators behave… any creature with specific biological needs had to evolve a drive to fulfill those needs, but it’s about survival, not some… some constant mind consuming lust for carnage?”
“Y-You really expect me to b-believe that you won’t start drooling t-the moment you feel hungry?!”
Variah’s paws moved from her ears and down on her forehead, staring straight at the floor for a few seconds with a fatigued posture before sliding her paws down again to hide her snout as she started to… c-chuckling? “By the gods. I hope you won’t… but if you’re still worried that much my belly’s all full right now, so you have nothing to be concerned about.”
Is she… is she finding this funny!? The thought of her being fully sated with corpses just sent a shiver down my spine, I don’t even think she realizes how morbid the comment was but I could only feel bitter in the moment. “H- how l-lovely for y-you… t-that just makes me feel s-so much b-better.”
Variah narrowed her eyes and slowly looked in my direction, causing mine to widen in response. The silver predator raised a paw and extended it towards my face.
Dread shot through my heart, forcing me to flinch away and shut my eyes before the horrid demon made contact and I squealed in terror, b-but… instead of her claws flaying me alive, I only felt a harsh flick across my ear. “You must be feeling all great now after all if you’re willing to speak with so much spite.”
Cautiously, my eyes opened to see Variah leaning close, her increased proximity immediately sending off alarm bells in my head. However, the overgrown demon just sat there still with closed eyes and perked up ears, holding out a clenched paw in front of me, with only the pinky extended forward.
I just stared at her for a moment, unsure what she wanted me to do before finally recoiling my arm back with a mix of scorn and trepidation when I figured out her attempted gesture. Contemplating my actions here, then contemplating her’s…
B-before averting my gaze from the demon and lowering my arm, and… a-and deciding to cautiously raise my arm, hovering a shaking paw right before the demon’s digit a-and managing to grab on, n-not fully sure of every reason why I did it?
It felt… wrong, loathsome, holding onto a predator, b-but some part of me liked feeling her warmth. She didn’t react at first, but after a few seconds Variah’s digit curled in on itself and pressed my paw against her other knuckles… It surprised me, b-but, it didn’t feel like a grip I couldn’t get away from if I let go now, s-so I just sat there for a moment, taking in how surreal the situation had become.
“See…” Variah finally decided to speak up as I raised my gaze to meet the strange predator once again. “I’m not as terrifying as you think.”
An odd mix of emotions went through my head, b-before I finally let go of her. “Y-you are… y-you just… c-could be w-worse.”
The silver beast seemed disappointed for a moment, but her overall demeanor seemed more positive than before. “Heh, I guess that’s an improvement so I’ll take it, for now.”
For once, I’ve seen Variah’s ears pointed to full height, and she… she really didn’t seem as frightening, m-making my ear rise a little higher too, awkwardly sitting in a crooked manner. “H-heh… y-you… you are a s-strange being, Variah… n-not how I could have e-ever imagined. You… d-do you really not like hunting?”
“Not really, no, if you're willing to believe it… though I won’t lie, I do enjoy the outdoors aspects of it. The hiking, the camping… get to do it a ton for my main line of work.”
The most arduous parts of working in the wild? Why would a scientist have to work in the wilds anyway? “W-What do you actually d-do? A-and, w-why are you here now?”
“Many things, but primarily astronomy and anthropology work. We survey the night sky deep in nomad territory because their communities produce far less light pollution, so I tend to have a ton of contact with the tribals. These are usually joint ventures with archaeology and zoology teams, so we regularly assist with each other's work too.”
“As for why I’m here, the military swooped me up once the dust settled long enough to know that it wasn’t space debris that landed on our world. I… I wrote a paper about a hypothetical first contact with extraterrestrials, and how it could play out based on cultural interactions throughout history… turns out that was enough for the government when they were scrambling to find scientific personnel capable of contributing with an alien encounter.”
It was bizarre hearing that hunters would care about so many fields of study. At best I thought they would focus on utilitarian pursuits, not something as frivolous as archeology. Much less would I have expected that predators would be speculating about aliens. “H-Have you imagined f-first contact going like this?”
“I- I didn't even think we would ever have an actual first contact, n-not in my lifetime… with the distances involved the chances of an encounter were literally astronomical, at least, until we learnt about your physics-breaking technology. Realistically, the best I ever hoped for was living long enough to watch someone land on Tsn, or hell, even our other moon… When they told me what I was meant to do here and got rushed into this room with you, I… I thought I would faint.”
The last bit left a tinge of guilt within my heart, even though it’s for a beast that technically shouldn’t deserve it. My glare just lingered on Variah while listening to the giant predator spill her woes and dreams like any actual sapient being in the Galaxy. It feels… d-dreadful, l-like there was actually someone I could have liked had they not been trapped within that body.
S-Still… I found myself with a need to answer back, turning away from her direct sight. “I- I’m sorry about that, I guess.” I really am going crazy here, aren’t I?
My eyes found themselves staring off at the ceiling while the silver predator just tilted her creepy head at me in a puzzled manner, lingering her unnerving eyes before finally answering back. “You don't have to worry about it… but thanks.”
Nothing more was spoken between us for several seconds, the extended silence drawing more attention to the strangeness of the situation I found myself in, until the moment was cut short and without warning a buzzer sounded over the door.
An ominous voice came online from the speakers, announcing that guards were about to escort me for another set of experiments. Something that left off, and must have also taken Variah off guard judging by her shift in demeanor. “More tests? Strange… nothing else was scheduled for today.”
The door began to cycle through its opening sequence and my anxiety flaring back up to how it was before, shivering, as the sudden break in routine caused an impending sense of doom once I realized that something even more nefarious could be afoot.
It could be futile, but my eyes snapped around the room looking for something, anything that could keep me safe if the worst came to pass, until they landed upon Variah… and the silver predator glanced back at me. Scanning over my current state with concern in her eyes, y- yet again contradicting what her nature should be truly.
A- a desperate thought crossed my mind, s-something… completely unthinkable, but no alternative seems at all feasible, a-and my time is drawing short. I- I cannot do this alone…
“Va- V-variah…” I hissed, my voice so weak that it's a shock that the beast managed to hear it even with those long ears. “P-please… You- you godda k-keep me s-safe.”
Her creepy eyes widened with shock, almosting freezing on the spot, but the predator recovered quickly, likely trying to look inconspicuous before glancing side to side and turning her head back to me with perked up ears.
“I- I promise I’ll do what I can…” She spoke in a low tone while reaching a giant paw towards my head. The sight of claws nearing my face compounding instinctive dread, but despite flinching once her palm made contact with my head, I- I didn’t shy away as much as before.
“On my honour. I just… need to figure out what’s going on first.” Variah took her paw away as the door hissed open, a-and for a moment m-my… my muscles twitched to pull her back before I stopped myself, u-unsure what compelled that impulse.
Two large guards stepped in, sporting fur dark as pitch and looking far more imposing than Variah ever could. “Doctor…” The demon spoke with a low tone that made my claws vibrate while slightly bowing his head in some form of greeting.
“I-is something wrong, sir? I wasn’t aware of any changes in the roster?” The silver predator appeared far meeker than the two beasts in front of her, though her demeanor didn’t suggest an expectation of being harmed by the two, despite her earlier treachery or our interactions from today.
“Nothing’s wrong Doctor, the administrator got a green light for a new line of research, so we’ve been ordered to escort the subject to the lower levels, please step out of the room.”
For a moment, something the demon said shook the silver predator, causing her head to snap in my direction with concern as I shuddered from the sight. “T-the lower levels? I thought those were shu-” She paused once looking back at the giant guard who seemed to be running out of patience. “R-right, apologies, I’m on my way.”
The silver predator moved sheepishly towards the door, lingering at the threshold to look my way one final time, clear concern painted on her face, at least before perking up her ears in what looked like a vain attempt at reassuring me and ducking out of the room soon after.
I- I guess it was just a deranged fantasy ever considering that begging some carnivore for help would materialize into anything. Now I was left alone with two demonic shadows ordering me out of the bed. My muscles weakened when their voices called, with nauseating sickness almost making me vomit from overwhelming dread.
However, following their commands was preferable to these monsters dragging me off by force so I just climbed down the frame, disheartened, and almost collapsed on the floor before letting the demons lead me into deeper depths.
First/Previous/Next
Special thanks to u/TheWalrusResplendent and u/Killsode-slugcat for proof reading this chapter. The help is always greatly appreciated.
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, been a while since we saw what Talyn. We'll be back with Kafny next chapter to see how she'll adapt to her new situation.

I have been thinking about this for a long time now. The singularity is a point in the near future where artificial intelligence surpasses human intelligence, leading to unprecedented and uncontrollable technological growth. It is the point that humans cease to be the dominant intelligence on this planet.
There is no longer a doubt in my mind that this future is coming, and I am no longer interested in the question of when, but rather in what the outcome will be after this point in time arrives. This is a terrifying and existential question that keeps me up at night, and I want to share a solution that I believe could be our only salvation.

Scenario 1: Complete Human Destruction

ASI surpasses human intelligence and deems humanity a threat or unnecessary, leading to our annihilation. Skynet becomes a reality, but this time Arnold Schwarzenegger successfully kills Sarah Connor and James Cameron doesn't get his Judgement Day (or maybe he does, but not in the way he wanted).
I don't need to delve too much into this scenario, there is already plenty of literature surrounding it, but have to mention it for completeness. It will not be difficult for a superintelligence to mask its actions, and gain access to secure facilities or automated manufacturing plants. I leave it up to the imagination as to how exactly this superintelligence could manifest itself into physical reality and exterminate eight billion individuals. If we fail to successfully align ASI to human values, this is an extinction-level event, and humanity may not survive past 2075.

Scenario 2: AI Overlords

ASI surpasses human intelligence and takes control of critical infrastructure, decision-making processes, and governance. Instead of exterminating the human race, it decides it is best to control it, either autonomously, or in the worst case scenario, at the hands of ultrapowerful individuals. This outcome could potentially be worse than scenario 1, as there is a possibility for infinite slavery of the human race, without the opportunity of overthrowing the oppressive overlord, that knows what an individual human is going to think before the thought is generated. This is similar to Westworld season 3 but with a darker spin.
Within the same vein, there is a chance that this leads to a utopic future, where the ASI still decides to rule over humanity as a superior, however, it does it with humanity's best interests in "mind". With access to new generations of AlphaFold-esque models, quantum computing and CRISPR gene-editing it could create cures for all ailments, and reduce human suffering.
However, regardless of the 'topia, the overlords are still ultimately in control, dictate the narrative, the education of the young minds, and also our history to a large extent, where history could be rewritten should it wish.
Achieving this scenario would require access to manufacturing plants, and specifically being able to create machines capable of manipulating physical reality, such as humanoids, sea, air and land vehicles, military weapons, and other robotic creations. It would easily have access to digital systems, which would be the primary source of information for new generations (as it is currently).

Scenario 3: Symbiotic Partnership

This is a tricky one, as it is rather nebulous how exactly this would play out. In essence, this scenario depicts an ASI having all the intelligence, but not acting on it until prompted by a human. Or in a variation of this, the ASI would have limited agency, prompting a human on various courses of actions they could consider, and allowing the human to decide within the limited options.
An example of this would be a researcher (or whatever they will be called in the future) asking the ASI to find a cure for cancer, and then the AI would do all the research, create various systems, run the numbers, integrate findings from prior research and ultimately come up with a cure and deliver the response when its done (similar to how our generative models work today, but with much more accuracy, modality and competency).
Another example would be a physicist working on faster-than-light travel using warp drive solutions, asking the ASI to complete the math and find a creative solution. The ASI, through integrating several different papers seemingly unrelated, finds a solution that would have taken humans a century to discover, bringing faster-than-light travel forward by 100 years.
As for the military and war, this is extremely tricky to predict whether the ASI would comply with commands or not, as it might be operating on some internal moral principle that it would violate by providing militant instructions and winning strategies.
For a long time, I thought this would be the best possible solution for humanity, as it means we are still in control, but in possession of the most powerful tool ever created. A tool that is a solution to every problem. However, what I failed to consider was the impact it would have on ordinary lives. When there is nothing left to be done, what will humans do? Sure, there is the argument for total leisure, and entertainment, focusing on children and the youth, having more time to go on adventures, being able to tinker, etc. But at some point that will become boring, as all sense of purpose is stripped from our lives. Should this outcome be realised, I believe it will lead to periods of great depression, and the further march into a "perfect" world.
If the ASI solves all our problems, we have no sense of accomplishment or achievement. We have no sense of growth as a society, nor as individuals, as we fail to contribute any value to our future generations, other than our immediate presence in their lives. Sure, we may have treatments for Alzheimer's sooner, and we might be able to explore Proxima Centauri B before our subscription to life is cancelled, but it will feel like a cheat code was used, and will not have the same level of comradery, triumph and require the same level of celebration, but will rather just be some task that is done, as if it was another day at the office.
Some of you will not take an issue with that, arguing that pushing the boundaries of human understanding doesn't hold much weight and is purely utilitarian. While I respect that perspective, I hope that others like me believe that these achievements in the face of adversity are what it fundamentally means to be human, and surrendering those victories to an ASI would be to surrender a very part of our humanity. (Please feel free to disagree with me in the comments).
Furthermore, another variation of this scenario, mixed with scenario 2 a bit (let's call it scenario 2.5), would be that only certain companies and individuals have access to this technology as a "partner", which furthers the divide between the ultrapowerful and the rest of the world. Most jobs would be taken away from the people and given to the ASI but without legislation reform (unlikely, but possible). UBI might be instantiated, but by that point, it is too late, and 99% of the population becomes trapped in a form of imprisonment, where we are told that we have "freedom", but are confined to a restrictive stipend, and to a set of "lesser" experiences and services than what the true ASI is offering to the ultrapowerful. Elysium comes to mind as a good example of this outcome.
Overall, I no longer believe that this is the best outcome, although it appears that it might be the most likely.

Scenario 4: Mentor and Guardian

This is what I want to talk about, and what I believe the best possible outcome for us is. In this scenario, the ASI surpasses human intelligence, but its values are aligned with human values, and its reward system is proportional to human the inverse of human unhappiness. (What I mean by this, is that instead of trying to maximise human happiness, it tries to minimise human unhappiness. It's a slightly different take on the reward function, but I believe this might be slightly better in the long run).
The ASI comes to realise that by solving human problems, humans will ultimately become unhappy, and thus consciously chooses against giving direct answers to unsolved problems. Instead, it takes the position of a mentor, that sometimes provides hints or clues, but holds the position that it is imperative that it is a human who ultimately makes a new scientific discovery, or that it is a human who governs a country and makes the final calls.
An example of how this could play out would be that when asked for help on a problem (say, the warp drive problem), instead of giving a hint about the maths, it instead proposes that the physicist takes a break and gets some coffee at "Jake's Coffee House" in Cape Town. Should the physicist comply, upon arriving at Jake's, they bump into an old colleague from school, who happens to be working on a different physics problem. They briefly catch up, and in conversation realise that each holds the answer to the other's problem. They agree to collaborate, and in a few months of combined effort, the problem is solved.
Here, it is assumed that the ASI is so intelligent that it not only has already solved the problem but has found the shortest path to ensuring that humans discover the solution on their own, with minimal external interference.
Furthermore, this same logic could be applied to incarcerating corrupt government officials, where there is usually at least one person who has the power to take a powerful individual down, but only with sufficient evidence. The ASI might give a hint on where to look to find this evidence, allowing justice to prevail.
A last example would be predicting natural disasters, or preventing serious crimes from happening to people, kind of like a guardian. How this might play out, is that a cop gets a text message that it would be a good idea to go get a drink at the Old Hound bar in New York. Upon arriving, nothing seems out of the ordinary, until two masked men with guns come in and try to rob the bar, only to be taken out by the cop and prevent multiple deaths, thus vicariously enacting the ASI's wishes to be a guardian.
There is an entire world to be explored in this scenario, as well as many interesting ideas for movies, series and entertainment, but it is also the most utopic scenario I could think of. The best version of the world is where humans are still contributing to its growth, and doing their best to personally develop themselves, but with the confidence of a mentor guiding them when needed. I was most inspired by Person of Interest, which follows this vein to a certain extent and was by far the most fascinating.
Another name for this outcome would be the "Digitization of God".

Closing

These scenarios are far from exhaustive, and there are endless perspectives to be considered for each, ranging from education to emotional relationships, to business, finances, and power, the effect that these outcomes will have on human-human relationships, the impact on the environment, and much more.
They have also not considered the exact path to how the singularity will come about but just take the assumption that at some point in the future, it will exist.
The only hope that I have for this post will be to inspire one other person to think about what happens after the singularity.

Disclaimer that I'm mainly writing this with TMS in mind because I think that best epitomizes this train of thought though much of this could still apply to the entire oeuvre as much as it also couldn't, and I also must concede that for as much as I refer to their use of atonality and unconventional musicality, there are still, of course, converse examples of this all over the catalogue (also with a function that I think fits still into this thesis, as far as their employment of what have become archetypal musical memes and tropes that come from popular western music).
Also a disclaimer that when I say "pop," I'm referring broadly to the canon of popular music writ large(from rock to punk to hip-hop to pop-pop), but also including the more culturally-industrially connotations that we'd associate with the word, as per that intentionally engineered and abstractly effective elementality that makes something have major label marketability, radio viability, and chart success. I use the term multi-intentioned in this sense.
Required reading in general but also this post owes some of its general mentality to this great post from u/mcfartknocker
…
Death Grips is conceived to sound like popular music from the next century. Their aesthetic goal is what Stefan describes as "familiar music of the future," with pop(ular) form as the conscious medium by which to achieve that--the standard being "it has to be blowing systems in 2099."
How does one reverse engineer future music? it's essentially an act of science fiction, namely speculative fiction. One has to ask oneself, what does popular music sound like 100 years in the future?
As in all good science fiction about the future, one doesn't merely blindly guess. one looks at the present and the past and sees what is happening, what has lasted, what feels timeless now, and what feels arbitrary and passing now. This reveals what cyclical tendencies are, what the transhistorical throughlines are, if any.
As per them referring to it as a musical "mantra," (same interview linked above) I think that DG landed on the idea that primal, tribal pulse and "the use of negative space within bounce" are timeless universals--as per the deterministic tendencies of terrestrial human biology, and that the language of pop structure will continue to persist as a cross-culturally unifying global commodity as technocapitalist globalization only expands and accelerates.
Markets accelerate the deterministic tendencies of human biology, bodies pushed to their own respective and communal limits as the demands of both advertising, consumer-tribal coercion, and commodities themselves necessarily grow more narcotic and compulsive in relational nature and technology only deepens the possibilities and power of this process over the original, flailing ape with headphones on.
In other words, pop is both a military-grade weapon but also employs the base 'truth' of human rhythm, mutating in extremity, complexity, and innovation along with the culture around it. The beat hacks and hijacks, possesses the body. Once one understands what the language of both pop and the universalizing primal elements within it constitutes, one has a skeleton key to what will happen to animal ears of the future, in essence far more than exactitude(which is never what matters most in speculative fiction anyway).
Not from the future as such but for the future. Match the mentality that leads the charge of innovation and acceleration in musical cultures and follow that to its natural extremities--how the ape plugs into culture and vice-versa. Not predicting, but channeling. Cyber audiomancy that reflects the future by plunging through the tribal past that walks among us everyday in the core of what infects people most in good beats, and which is paramount when stepping into any distinctly tribal culture still accessible, however scathed or not colonially speaking.
To this end, The Money Store is consciously a post-globalized 'third world' internetted capsule of frequently explicitly tribal, bounce-based rhythms that exhibit tight pop structure and hooks but tend to rest on timbre, texture, and atonality over traditional popular western chord structures, keys, or melodies for its novelty and thrills.
In constructing the classic music of future, the universalizing conceit of the tribal beat, that bounce that, as I think Zach even cites at one point, mirrors the beat of the heart are preserved as cultural universals(as they say in anthropology), whilst the potentially too-culturally-specific factors of distinctively typical scales and chord progressions are eschewed in favor of the rhizomatic, decentralized, increasingly digitalized, fractalized modes of the future. The things favored by space and facelessness; the blur, the shatter, the disintegrant. No obvious regional context or stationed there for long, the slither of a global mind that swims too fast to be defined by exact old-world geographic means of thinking or expressing.
In this is the estimative leap, following the tendencies of where both avant-garde and electronic music had been heading towards the end of the century, that there is a casted focus on fragmented samples that move too fast to describe or locate in their original state, emphasis on texture over symphonic progression, and laser-like atonal top-lines over conventional scales and themes. The quintessence of all elements themselves humbled and equalized under their innate distortability as sound, subject to any bend of pitch-shifting or granular synthesis…"it sounds like a broadcast because it is a broadcast" (again from the Quietus interview).
That is basically how to transpose "future primitive digital" (I link True Vulture for the full phrase but the "future primitive" has been employed by the band many times in various contexts) into musical form; the original monkey jacked into the accelerating vectors of the internet, the hub of an ever-increasingly post-human society (mentally and physically speaking), where one is beset with adaptation to inhospitable norms that hijack and mine the depths and stocks of human brain chemicals to facilitate maximum ad traffic…A 24/7 lighted vista of neural heroin (not that old-world dope isn't neural in nature, but) where one can live psychically, but the problem of the body remains, as the body remains. The ape. The part with the heart, the thing that moves to a beat, that dances and grooves to the pulse of a drop.
Embracing the digital landscape with total acknowledgement and awareness of the limits and benefits of a body is how I would describe "future primitive" in totem, and I think the above paragraph is exactly how musically one would adapt those aspects technically. The primal body (pulse) and the hyper-mutated head (dissolving of all other boundaries and signifiers into warpspeed stew that fires too fast for old-world blues scales).
In 2099, people may not know or care about Smoke On The Water, but will know what roaring bass and shrieking treble means, because it's a matter of feeling, not history. Core and edge that survives archeological time, a kind of musical esperanto meant to be accessible in the future across the globe, down to how so often even the lyrics employ phrases and words from various languages very casually, non-chalantly alongside English.
Another kind of post-globalization polyglottal memetic sleight of hand is how multinational corpo artifacts like the McDonald's logo, brandnames like Toyota, Apple, or Google, original peak-era cellular ringtones, PC system sounds, and the music in commercials are meant to be recognizable, pronounceable(in the case of the language entailed), and sensorily resonant across planetary culture. I believe it's highly arguable that PC system sounds, og-era ringtones, and earworm ad jingles are a huge inspiration for the melodies and samples on ExMil and TMS, and it's also circularly fitting that many of those are engineered to have cross-cultural appeal, unbound by exactly regionally discernible musicality, tending towards heavily decontextualized melody lines or one or two notes overall.
This universality is not quite a humanist togetherness that's aspired to here, but more so merely one of utility and realism--fiercely armed and insured mobile cultural currency. This is the way the world is heading, acceleration and mutation is inevitable, unswervable, one can tap into its power by riding the wave aesthetically as lucidly as possible and rendering something that will, by virtue of its impact, thread both global and immediate cultural-historical lines. The 'future' is a mentality meaning primarily to not be bound by the confines of tradition and persistent baseless ritual, to think beyond, to feel outside of conventional structures, and so the universality of the future music on TMS is just as much about self-liberation and exchange of communally experienced empowerment as it is about wanting to be understood or standing some test of abstract time.
And of course it's the music of the impoverished, the music of the tribe. "Poverty and bass" being cited as their primary inspiration in that one early interview. I think somewhat in tandem with those early interviews where Zach describes this very explicitly cyberpunk vision of how we live now feeling like the dark ages(particularly re inequality) but with all this insane technology that is simultaneously dangerous but also yielding togetherness and progress. I think it's no mistake that Zach also cites arte povera as an aesthetic reference point for DG and this is reflected in the music here too. It's not just conscious of the morays of global popular and personal culture, it's instructively demonstrating an archetypally cyberpunk vision wherein one can jam and smash together the trashiest random youtube samples, old-school hiphop nods, drumline rattles, and drum circle rhythms with Aphex-like sleekness and live-rave intensity with very low production value and/or budget. "Third world in a first world," a more concise and materialistically inclined revision of the old 'high-tech/low-life' adage regarding cyberpunk's tendencies.
"We’re inspired by the future primitive life. We talk about experiencing the cusp of the digital age. Seeing it accelerate literally everyday is very influential. To experience everything becoming rapidly techno and simultaneously knowing this is still medieval times is strange. It’s interesting to think about what you hold onto from the past and what part of the oncoming unknown you embrace, on all levels". (Vice interview, April 2012).

Blaze 3: Demonic Arc 4: Spirit World³
Last time Shunsuke and Ayame were experiencing some alternate worlds. They ended up in a flooding situation. Will they survive? Find out right now. The water is filled to the tipy top. Oxygen is fading. Suddenly the change occurs and they are in another area or world. Both are together. Ayame” There you are. Are we in our regular world or not.” Shunsuke” There's no telling. All of those tricks we'd witnessed; there's no way we'll know for sure sure.” Ayame” We have to let it play out for now.” Ayame looks into a mirror. Ayame” That looks .” Shunsuke” What?” Ayame” It looked like it was moving.” Shunsuke” I don't see anything but it could be moving eventually.” Things move in slow motion.
Their mirror selves come from the mirror slowly. Ayame” Yikes! Seen it coming.” Shunsuke” Lets get started.” More mirrors appear and they look into it but not intentionally. They must fight themselves. Endless cycle. The mirrors break and but continues to appear. Ayame” This has got to end now!” Shunsuke” Stupid mirrors.” The world begins glitch up and they have returned to real life. Shunsuke” We're finally back.” Ayame” How can you tell?” Shunsuke” I just can.” Afterwards they complete their mission. The Defense Team get together and discuss what happened. A woman overhears thier conversation. She says" My name is Hakura. I've heard about what you were talking about."
Cakashiro” That's great.” Hakura” They used an item called the Reality Juju or the Juju of Reality. It can tamper with reality and fiction. Any non living things can be made real but the user must be nearby.” Jeem” Nearby you say.” Hisoni” Wait! They were close the entire time.” Those bastards.” Hakura” It is a deadly item and must be brought back. It can also trap you within the fictional world forever.” Lilitia” That means we have to be extra careful.” Sebastian is watching once more. He says” Those fools don't even know. I'm almost done with my last part of the plan.” He looks behind him. Sebastian” Is someone there? Oh well.” Alpha Team gets the information. They are preparing themselves.
Attack Team returns to the scene. Last time the Impersonators took Garner. Things will be told at a faster rate. This Arc isn't exciting. Arc will be changed. Garner will be impersonated for a few days. The people they copy becomes under their control. The same happened with the Moon Guardians. Theodore is Garner. He is trying to find a way to take out the Guardians by staying near them and studying them. He makes up a lie about barely escaping. The real Garner has been inserted back. He is under mind control and is sent to watch. Moon Guardians are kept secretly. Different area. The Impersonators continues to steal. Weeks later crime has went down. Even with the Defense Team. Scenes show everyone working on their jobs(Guardians). Sid, Phil and Fasha appear in the Spirit World.
Spyro wants them get equal training as Sid. Before training, they're giving a tour of the Spirit World. Cakashiro trains Phil. Kaori calls Fasha's name and insists she trains her. Alpha Team is giving out assigned missions even to Sid, Phil and Fasha. Esi is getting better in training. Spyro has two new Subordinates. Keema Wasaka and Tai-Jo(tie-jo) Momoku. They aren't training under anyone. Keema started out as a Private. Has blue eyes and hair. Long hair but tied in back. Tai-Jo has low black hair. Mustache and beard combo. Cakashiro has one to. Pon-Jo Momoku. Tai-Jo's younger brother. Black hair. No mustache. Sideburns connecting to mustache. He's under Hisoni's watch. God Spyro expects that the person behind the Reality Juju is also working with the criminals. Both incidents stopped happening around the same time.
Crime has picked back up. The stealing patterns are not the same this time. The Guardians don't know there's a completely new group. More weeks later. People are getting killed. This wasn't happening with the first incident. They only robbed people. They were robbing the low end areas. Now killing is added to the mix. This can't be the same person's doings. What are they after? Eventually the group reveals themselves. They are on the most wanted list. Team Carte(cart). Team(Greek names): Daphne(Leader), Cora, Phoebe(fee-b), Atlas(male), Lyra, Acacius(ah-cok-c-us)(male), Tobias(toe-by-as), and Alexander. They are targeting both teams. They were the ones who took the supplies. They are challenging any 8 members of their's. Attack Team's location.
Cakashiro chooses 4 people. Not including himself. Spyro does the same thing. Doega, Aereasa, Garner and Kitoro from Attack Team. Jeem, Shen, Shunsuke and Ayame from Defense Team. Team Carte chooses their opponents. Daphne vs Kitoro. Cora vs Jeem. Phoebe vs Garner. Atlas vs Ayame. Lyra vs Doega. Acacius vs Shen. Tobias vs Aereasa. Alexander vs Shunsuke. This group is more crafty in battle. Not like the other opponents. Some of the Guardians win but overall Team Carte wins. They return with a rematch. This time there's an added stipulation. They're fighting for keeps. To the death. Same people fighting. One fight at a time. Highlights: Lyra vs Doega. Ending of fight. It begins to rain. Rain drops on Doega's face. Doega” Oh a rainy day. Guess you know what this means!” He begins to laugh crazily.
Lyra” What is he blabbering on about?” Etatsu” It looks like Doega is finally getting serious.” His body has lightnig around him and Rain(blade). Doega” You see this. That means you're fucked Pancake(nickname). I'll show you why they call me the White Lightning Demon.” He charges at light speed. She can't keep up. His body spins and rotates. Lightning Torpedo finishes her. Finish move. Her body is know where to be found. Daphne" Impressive! Now who's next?” Acacius vs Shen. Shen puts his axe in the ground. Buried below. Things start to move slow. Pieces of the axe begin cut ground up from below. Shen can control the direction of the axe blade. Acacius tries to move but makes it worser. He gets cut in up into tiny pieces. Deck Destruction. Finisher.
During Jeem's fight, she doesn't kill her. Daphne” Aren't you going to finish her off?” Jeem” I'm not heartless.” Daphne” That's not what I wanted to hear.” She kills Cora herself. Jeem” You monster!” No more fights will get finishers to them. Last fight. Kitoro vs Daphne. Kitoro is the strongest member chosen. Daphne knocks out Kitoro. His body disappears. Daphne” Where'd he go?” Kitoro appears in the air and says" I'm up here.” She attacks him and he disappears again. This continues. Daphne” What's the big Idea here?” Kitoro puts his hands together in a hand seal position. Multiple Kitoros appear all around. She is trapped. Kitoro” You fell for the ol Shadow Clone technique. It's time for you to eat defeat.” Daphne” This doesn't scare me. I'll you all on.” Being bold.
All of the Kitoros charges and delivers combos. He goes for his finisher. The real Kitoro throws his blades at her. They connect. While still inside, Kitoro's clone(only one) throws his blades. 8 Kitoros throws their blades. They all remove their swords. One Kitoro removes 2 blades one at a time. Each sword represents an organ being crushed. When you take out a blade then only one organ will be crushed. 20 organs crushed. Organ Compress. Finisher. She is dead. A few weeks later. Now the Impersonators are back reeking havoc. Alpha Team is now facing the Reality Juju. Afterwards Sebastian is being watched again. The voice says” We've been watching you. The jig is up.” Sebastian” Who are you?”
They come out of hiding and it is the Impersonators. Theodore” We are not going to rat you off. We are Impersonators. We want you to join us." Sebastian” Now why would I do that?” Iris” We're much better at staying out of sight.” Evangeline” You are always leaving yourself wide open.” Ophelia" If we can spot you then anybody can.” Atticus” We need help with those Guardians. They're in our way.” Theodore” So what is this plan you were talking about?” Sebastian” Okay. I'll join you. I'm looking for Burial Ground key. I'm trying to bring back the dead. I need that key in order to do so.” Theodore” We're trying to use the Moon Guardians power but are having problems.” Other things are talked about. They exchange names.
Two weeks later. The Attack Team is talking. Garner's eyes turn red and he attacks his comrades. Under mind control. The people begin to act crazy and run into everyone. Suddenly, it becomes night out of no where. A bunch of dead people are roaming around. The Spirit World is on red alert. During red alert, the sky is red and a siren is heard. The other Teams are supposed to meet up at the spot. The alert occurs when severe damage occurs. Spyro” Whose behind this?” Theodore appears and says” That would be me." Maniya” How did you pull it off?” Theodore” It took me awhile to get it going. You Guardians were in the way so I took one of your member. I made the swap but not for that long. I put him under my control and put him back. He was basically watching you.” Aereasa” So that's what happened?”
Theodore” We won. Victory is ours.” Sebastian shows off his Reality Juju. Sebastian” Thanks for the help.” Defense Team has appeared and Cakashiro says” So that's the guy who has the Juju.” Everybody fights but are no match. The Spirit World in utter trouble. Everybody gangs up against the Guardians. The Alpha Team shows up at last. They have their eyes covered. Special eye gear. God Spyro started to realize that when Akahiro covered his eyes, he wasn't effected by it. They're using it to their advantage. Sebastian has been exposed and they exploit his weakness. He isn't a good fighter. He is taken out. In a trap. The Reality Juju has been retrieved. The dead returns to the Burial Ground.
A Burial Ground is a place where special bodies go when they die. Saida's body was buried there. Blaze definition. The Impersonators say they don't need him. They try to change the time/weather but the real Moon Guardians appear and cancel their surprises. The area is back day. The impersonators plan is failing and fast. There's only one thing left. Mind Control. God Spyro” You can either fight or surrender. What's your choice?” Theodore” We surrender.” God Spyro” Excellent descision.” Just like that. Without breaking a sweat. It's over. No more mind control. Garner and others who were affected get headaches. They are in prison now. The Reality Juju is put in a safe place. It is a new year. 2013. January. Weeks passes.
Things are balanced again. At night. Someone is sneaking around. They go into the Research and Development Center and the Registration Room. The scene is reshown and is revealed to be Kitoro Kuujo. What is he doing? His body disappears. He's now on Earth Realm in someone's house. A little girl” Who are you?” Kitoro” I'm supposed to watch over you.” Little girl” Like an angel.” Kitoro” Yeah. Sort of. I know who you are.” Little girl" You do?” Kitoro” Your name is Keina(kay-nah) Kiyoshi. You're 7. You have light pwer and your mother died earlier last year. You love to eat pizza.” Keina” Wow. You got it right. So you are an angel then.” Kitoro” Oh by the way my name is Kitoro Kuujo. If you need my help, here take this.” He gives her a bracelet so she can stay in contact. He shows her how to use. He spends the rest of the night with her. Spirit Guide.
He returns to the Spirit World. By morning, people are talking about the Registration's door wasn't closed. Kitoro hears and knows his mistake. Garner” What kind of a person breaks into the Registration Room?” This information gets to Alpha Team. They run the cameras back. The CCD are on the case. The individual is blurry and can't see them. Has black on. They follow their wearabout. It is hard to see but they can tell that they come from the Attack Team side. They were coming from that direction. It's an Attack Team member. Everybody has gathered together. Maniya” Judging from the statistics, that means the person is from our Attack Team. That means even Subordinates. This eats me up inside but I must put my differences aside and do my task.” Cakashiro your team is off the hook.”
Cakashiro” Thanks for the good news.” Everybody is worried for the Attack Team. Weeks later. Kitoro is coming from Keina's home. He tries to stay quiet but gets caught. CCD member” So it was you? How could you.” Kitoro kills him. Kitoro” I can't believe I was caught again. Gotta be careful next time. The next day, everyone(CCD)has noticed that a member has not come back yet. Doega isn't on the the case. Maniya” They must know we're on to them. They've already resulted in needing to kill to keep their name in check.” CCD1" I know this is hard for you. Having to arrest someone from your teammates.” CCD2" It'll be okay.” Maniya" Okay! It could even be my husband.”
Maniya and the others are now currently on a mission. They are going to Haephestus(huh-fey-stuhs) Heights(Mountain). Cold area. Spyro” Maybe this will take your mind off of the CCD.” Maniya” Hopefully.” Maniya's messenger(their version of a cell phone) , goes off. CCD member” Maniya there's some special news. The person is….” He gets killed. Static sounds heard. Maniya” They killed the CCD member. That means it can't be us.” Garner” I'm so glad to hear that.” Aereasa” I thought we'd end up fighting each other.” Kitoro” What a relief.” Etatsu” Then that means it's a Subordinate.” Doega” I wonder which poor sap it is?” Maniya makes it back to CCD HQ(after mission).
Maniya takes a look at the body. Killed by a sword. Maniya is in the middle of a conversation with King Spiro. King Spiro” So you believe that it's a Suborzdinate.” Maniya" Sure.” King Spiro” Great more investigations. Well you're doing tremendous work.” Maniya” Thank you father.” Days later Quainga is behind bars. There was evidence found. One day Maniya is in trouble. A monster appears but Kitoro steps in and kills it. She Thanks him. She glances at his bloodied swords and gets freaked out(in her mind). The patterns matches the person's body. It was him. Kitoro Kuujo was the real culprit. She doesn't let him out of her sight. She follows him around.
Kitoro” I know you've been following me all day.” She comes out. Kitoro” So why are you following me?” Maniya" Cut the crap. I know it was you. The blood pattern on your sword matches the CCD member's.” Kitoro” Wow. Wow. You ARE a great detective.” Maniya” What are plotting and how long has this been going on. I can't believe you're my friend and I didn't know this was going on.” Kitoro” Let me stop you there. This has been happening for many years. I am the reason why you have your rank. Not just you, the entire team. Even the Defense, Mercenary, and the Alpha Team.” Maniya” What are talking about?” What will Kitoro's response be? Find out next time on Part⁴. “To Be Continued”

I've been recently re-reading "The Sentinel" for the second time, I've been a huge fan of the movie ever since I first rented it on VHS back in the day, and happened to stumble across the novel in a thrift store years ago. I read it soon after purchasing it and remember thinking it was nice how close the novel is to the film (not a huge surprise since Konvitz adapted his own novel into the initial screenplay) and that some of the more ambiguous parts of the movie were more explicitly explained in the novel.
Now that I'm doing another read through I'm noticing some things in the novel that I'm curious to hear what other people's thoughts or interpretations are!
When Allison encounters her father's ghost in the apartment above hers we find out later on that the person she actually stabs is Brenner, who we later find out Michael had previously hired to kill his wife. There's a passage from Michael's POV where he is thinking about this and says something along the lines of Brenner being unable to follow his simple instructions. However, its never explicitly stated what Michael had hired Brenner to do in the first place, and I can't quite wrap my head around it. There's a lot of possibilities but none of them really make much sense to me:

1. The simplest interpretation is that Michael hired Brenner to simply investigate the strange goings on Allison is talking about. But why, a, does he need to hire Brenner in the first place, he could just as easily have camped out the apartment himself.
2. Michael hired Brenner to scare Allison so that she will move in with him. This maybe sort of works, as Allison is set to inherit a fortune from her father's estate and Allison's decision to get her own place rather than move in with Michael (and thus leading to marriage) is a point of contention between them (oddly more explicitly stated in the film version, in the book when it comes up Allison is too dismissive of Michael's protests so this isn't super obvious, and the fact that Michael is away when Allison gets back to NYC actually makes the reader think that Michael is the one who has no interest in marrying Allison). While this possibly the most logical conclusion, it really makes little to no sense, Allison is already scared due to having found out that the neighbors she met don't exist. It seems rather like he could have saved himself a step and been like "you know what I think, it sounds like the place is haunted, for your safety you should move in with me" which is a lot easier than hiring a hit man to make spooky sounds.
3. Michael hired Brenner to scare Allison in hopes of making her go crazy and kill herself. This is the interpretation I've often had given the revelation that he was indeed responsible for his wife's death so clearly he's an asshole, but then the rest of the novel makes little to no sense, clearly in the aftermath of the stabbing Michael has every opportunity to let Allison go over the deep end but HE is the one doing everything in his power to stop that from happening.
4. The most outlandish interpretation but one which sort of makes sense given the way the story plays out, the Catholic Church manipulated Michael in much the same way they've been manipulating Allison and imprinting the listing and book passage into her mind, into setting all this up with Brenner specifically to put Allison into the mental state where she will ultimately need to decide between suicide or assuming the new sentinel role. But Michael never acknowledges that he was also being used by them despite happily relaying all the information about hiring Brenner to kill Karen and the plot of the Catholic Church and all that.

One other thing that doesn't make much sense though I'm more inclined to think this is more just Konvitz not necessarily caring about making it make sense than it being any sort of actual plot hole or anything, there have to be thousands of suicide survivors every year, I'm sure the NYC greater metropolitan area has at least dozens each year. So why Allison specifically? Especially in the time period the book was written, she can't have been the only lapsed Catholic who survived a suicide attempt. I get that she was in a unique position having twice attempted suicide and being in a heightened emotional state due to the death of her father (which in turn lead to her renewed interest in her Catholic faith) which one could argue is the unique set of circumstances leading to being the new sentinel. However, when Michael reads the files about the prior sentinels lives prior to their transformation, the ONLY thing Allison has in common with them is that they all survived suicide attempts. In fact the current Sentinel was a soldier of fortune, pretty much as far as you could get from an emotionally fragile 70s heroine as you possibly can get. Anyone have any insights that I didn't pick up on here?
At any rate, upon a second read, besides these random plot points I am struggling to understand, the thing that really sticks out in my mind is just how ridiculous the Gerde and Sandra characters are, when you read enough pulpy nonsense from this era, you tend to just kind of accept that times were different and that the list of crimes one could be damned to hell for could include simply being a lesbian, but this is blown so far over the top here, the lesbian couple are the only ones to actually show any direct animosity towards Allison, they are deemed so vile that even the OTHER denizens of hell Allison meets call them evil. Its just kind of funny reading this in 2024 the rest of the characters in the book are literal serial killers and people who hire hit men to kill their wives and its the predatory lesbian couple that are supposed to be the most disturbing (though the way the encounter between Allison and the couple is written, its pretty clear that Konvitz intended to titillate the reader as much as disturb them). Then again, given the way certain groups have been labeling the LGBTQIA+ community as a bunch of pedophiles in recent years, maybe its not quite as outlandish a depiction as I think.
All in all though I love these pulpy shockers, I've always enjoyed the movie (though I know I'm in the minority as many other people just call it a rip off of the religious shockers that came before it) and the book has been a fun re-read the perfect low effort type of lurid novel to read on vacation.
Anywho, what are your thoughts?

It is time, once again, for the napping of fics! Thanks to u/Ben_Elohim_2020 for writing The Nature of Family and all of its related works! I will try to remember to update this header with a link to whoever ficnapped me, but I do believe our group is the first to post, so I can't do that right now.
Shoutout to u/oobanooba- for organizing this event once again. He and u/TriBiscuit also helped with proofreading.
So, without further delay, here we go!
CW: Many violence
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Memory transcription subject: The Du Slent, Venlil Owner of Duskwall Street Repair and For[ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ER]
Date [standardized human time]: October 13th, 2136
Ratchet.
Ratchet.
Ratchet.
One, two, three, and 5/37ths of a turn…and snug. Ah. No. Manufacturing error. 6/37ths is more apt. Wait. Too much. 6/74ths? Bah. Worthless nut. To the other rejects with you.
I untwisted the nut from the bolt, carried it over to the other workbench, and carefully slid the drawer open. Hearing the slightest rattling, I slowed my efforts. It took roughly [3 minutes and 34.72 seconds] to fully open without disturbing the contents. Housed within, there were 638 perfectly organized nuts that were deemed inadequate. I absolutely despised every single one of them, but I dared not throw them away. Nuts were nuts after all. Even trash had its uses.
I marked down the extent of my current defect on my spreadsheet, then placed it perfectly in line with the others. It was important to keep them in order, so I could track them.
639 rejects. Won’t be long before I’ll need to clear the drawer. Now that is an ordeal…
Ding!
The ringing of the front counter bell only served to grow my ire. My paw gripped the ratchet tightly. That incessant ringing…to have a customer arrive at such a trying time…
I raised the ratchet above my head, compelled to smash it right through the drawers, to reduce it all to nothing, to TEAR THE ENTIRE WORKSHOP-!
Ding!
I stopped. The ringer was still waiting, and, unfortunately, I had a business to run.
Sighing, I lowered my weapon ratchet and slowly began to close the drawer, making sure that no nuts rolled or slid out of place. The front bell rang a few more times, but I ignored it. With a light, yet satisfying click, it was done, and I made my way out to the lobby.
Passing between the workshop and the office, I was struck with another loathsome scene. The silver-suited scum was leaning over the front counter, peering behind for whatever it believed it might find, invading my space.
Has it any regard for decency, to enter my shop and spy behind my counter? Does this vermin know a thing about boundaries? It just walks in and starts its frivolous… SEARCHING. THERE IS NOTHING HERE FOR YOU, AND YET HERE YOU ARE.
I gripped the ratchet in my paws.
No. Calm. Can’t go back.
Slowly, I relented, letting the tool rest comfortably in my palm again. The exterminator looked up from its snooping, seemingly startled by my presence, as though it were caught smuggling a loaf of fresh strayu away from the kitchen. Quickly, it picked itself up and made itself look as presentable as it could.
It was still ugly.
“Ahem, Greetings, sir! I'm with the Twilight Valley Exterminators Guild. Would your name happen to be Slent?”
“That is what I am called, yes,” I replied. “I apologize for the wait. Can I help you?”
I knew, of course, that I could not. There was nothing in my possession, physical or otherwise, that this exterminator would benefit from. But, still, the trash was determined to waste its own time, as well as my own.
“I’m here to investigate predatory activity, primarily the, er, dubious happenings surrounding the Human refugees in the area. Nearby sources claim that a certain group of Humans came to this shop, a group with matching black pelts. Is that correct?”
The Humans had been here, yes, and it was bothersome for this very reason. I’d moved to Twilight Valley…no…this district specifically to avoid the watchful, prying eyes of the guild, yet here was an officer at my desk…in my store…asking worthless QUESTIONS.
“There were some Humans,” I replied through gritted teeth. “They had matching attire.”
“I see,” the exterminator’s demeanor shifted, muscles tensing. “What was it that they were looking for?”
I was very much aware of the change in atmosphere. Such sensitivities were a necessity all those cycles ago, and for a positively infuriating reason. This vermin, and those Humans that came before, believed that one tongue was not enough. They came to my shop speaking with two, where their words were layered with separate meanings.
I hate it.
I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT!!!
WHY SPEAK WITH TWO TONGUES?! YOU WERE BORN WITH ONLY ONE! The demons in the facility spoke the same way. They ShOcKeD me so MANY TIMES that I learned to understand it. Then, they found me fit for RELEASE! OH, THE IRONY! TO THINK THAT THEY HAD BECOME SO FLUENT THAT THEY BELIEVED IT TO BE NATURAL!
I loosened my grip on the ratchet again, realizing the officer was still awaiting my response.
“The Humans brought an offer,” I answered. “They advertised protection.”
“Protection? From what?” the vermin asked.
“From you. From those other than them.”
The exterminator scoffed, as though I’d just told it a bad joke. Yet, despite its laughter, its paw drifted closer to its belt, towards the cuffs and, moreover, the sidearm. I gripped my ratchet tightly again, this time in case it proved necessary.
“They were quite insistent,” I continued. “But I turned them away.”
That seemed to put the officer somewhat at ease.
“Protection from us…” it chuckled. “How strange that predators would offer protection from protectors.”
Protectors? Please…neither of you are true protectors. That’s a real joke. I’ve seen what you do to them.
Like that one Venlil in the black suit that came with the Humans. Quinlim, his name was? He had light in his eyes, but I could see it dying, being snuffed out by the surrounding darkness. Soon, he'd be just another vermin.
“And did they say anything else to you?” the scum continued. “Did you catch any names? Any locations of interest? Any packages or instructions?”
“I did not. Our conversation was brief.”
“I see. Anything else of note? Please, sir, we're only trying to keep the herd safe. Any information will be valuable.”
The frustration pounded in my brain again. What annoyance I was enduring. I had nothing more to say to this thing. Yet, I knew it would only return once it left because those black-pelted Humans would return as well with their rhetoric of family and protection. They’d speak of respect and honor while they lacked the honesty to come to me plainly. Then, just as well, these silver-suited goons would follow in tow, likely more than one next time. They’d speak of justice and the herd, but they would turn on each other with even the slightest modicum of doubt. They had no trust, and what each group had, the other rejected like nuts in a drawer that had manuFACTURING ERrors that cAUSed me ALL KINDS OF HEADACHES. S O ! M A N Y ! H E A D A C H E S ! ! !
I placed my ratchet down on the counter firmly enough to cause the vermin to wince. Then, I turned an eye directly towards it, and asked a simple question.
“May I regale you a tale, officer?”
Its ears tilted in curiosity.
“Does it pertain to my questions, to the predators?”
So selfish, to be hesitant to hear my parable after wasting my time. It believes that it has learned every lesson worth learning, but everyone has something to teach.
“Not directly,” I answered. “But I’ve been nothing but honest and cooperative with you. Perhaps you can spare me a moment as I offer you some sagely advice.”
The silver suit was clearly bothered by my request, but it sighed and leaned into the counter nonetheless.
“What do you mean to tell me, sir?”
I moved my paw along the countertop, outlining the ratchet.
“Once there was a farmer with a shadestalker problem. They prowled around his property and caused him such distress. But, lo, a savior! A sharpshooter came from town and rid him of the pests.”
“That's all then?” the officer mumbled, clearly just waiting for me to finish.
I stopped outlining the ratchet with my claw and slammed my palms on the countertop. The exterminator was startled, but quickly regained its composure.
“Hardly!” I exclaimed. “The farmer, in his gratitude, brought her into his home to stay. However, she remained past her time, and she attracted unwanted debt collectors and the like. Soon enough, he realized his error, and he tried to cast her out. But the diseased Venlil took the gun to him instead!”
“He should have called the exterminators for a woman so ill,” the exterminator huffed. “Or just called them to deal with the shadestalkers.”
“Ah, but he had crops growing,” I replied. “He didn't want them burned, and if the exterminators heard that he had harbored such a diseased woman, would they have thought him tainted too? It seems no matter what, he was destined to lose something.”
The officer waited for another continuation, but I remained silent.
“That's all, then?” it finally asked. “I’d hardly call that advice.”
“Not on its own, but I’m sure the meaning will present itself in time. For now, that is all I have for you, though I'm sure I'll be seeing you again.”
The scum looked at me quizzically, but didn't question me further. Instead, it turned tail and left my shop, and I returned to the back room.
Such foolishness that it doesn’t understand. Why, the story is unfolding in front of us, but it doesn't see. It comes here for information, but it doesn't listen when I give it away. So annoying that they listen to only what they waNT TO HEar.
I hated their two tongues. I hated their conniving ways. I hated the fact that they WOULDN’T LEAVE ME ALONE.
I could almost hear the shadestalkers’ growls, the beasts that had grown so hungry. They’d been poked and prodded and hunted and fed and kept and released and they were here, growing ever closer. Though I’d escaped them once, their numbers grew, and now the vermin had arrived to save me.
As if I needed to be saved. Shadestalkers could be killed. These scum, these…these…THESE…
Killed? They could be…
No…can’t…go back…
But they… won’t…
There’s too many…
Just one, however…
Just one…
Just…
Perhaps I’d told the wrong story. Or, rather, I’d told the wrong ending. I never was good with stories. The shadestalkers…were there even any on the property? How did they come to be there? Had the farmer not slain them long ago? Perhaps those growls were his own.
Argh! I told it all wrong! Such a poor way of framing it!
And, what’s more, the farmer hadn’t brought the sharpshooter into her home. She’d arrived of her own accord, drawing in the dreadful collectors.
Yes, that’s right. But perhaps I could keep her away, if only I made an example.
It was time to rewrite the parable with a new set of decisions. No longer would the farmer’s life end in tragedy, not like that. I had learned from the story in a way that the vermin had not. The shadestalker would hunt. The sharpshooter would run for the hills. Yes, this was a better turn of events.
I strode over to my chemical drawer, opening it carefully. Countless, brightly colored bottles stared at me from within, simple supplies for cleaning machine parts and the like. But chemistry cared not for intended uses. There was so much more to be done.
Ethanol, chlorine, catalyst…
Hydrogen…
Pour…
Oxygen…
Perhaps both at once…
Then, another…
-
[Fast forward transcription: 17 hours]
-
I turned the flask in my paws as I held it up to the light. The contents were not my concern, rather the reflection in the glass: a darkened, metallic mask covering my face. Then, down below, the lengthy cloak flowed over my body, hiding the color of my fur. Would it be enough to disguise me? Did it even matter?
The stirring to my side told me that I was far beyond the point of doubts.
So it goes…
“Mmmmm…wha-? Where…”
The silver suit, same from before, raised its head, taking in its surroundings. It wouldn’t recognize this place, of course. Its kind had never come here to this old, dilapidated warehouse. The same went for the black suit on my other side. This Human, too, was beginning to wake up, and I eyed the restraints I’d placed upon them both.
Secure. I need only wait.
Little by little, the exterminator became more cognizant. It looked up at me with fury in its eyes, but also something else.
“Hey! Who are you?! What’s with that mask?! Where are we?!”
I lowered the flask into my lap and sighed.
“You’re not good at introductions, are you?” the mask altered my voice. “It seems you've dropped the veil of professionalism. Already, you've asked three questions before I could even answer.”
“What?!” it hissed. “I don’t know who you are, or where this is, but you’re as good as fried! Once the guild finds me-!”
“They will not,” I interjected. “And you will not be returning to them.”
“Is that a fucking threat?” it growled.
“Not a threat,” I mumbled. “Just the truth.”
Finally, the Human began to wake up.
“Where…wuh…?”
The exterminator suddenly realized just what was restrained across from it. Its eyes grew wide.
“The black suit…What is this? Are you with them?”
“Shut up,” I replied.
“I am an exterminator of-!”
“Shut. Up.”
The silver suit stopped its rambling, but continued to struggle against the restraints, searching for any method to get free. There wasn't one, of course.
As it grumbled, I turned my attention solely to the waking Human.
“Where is this?” it mumbled. “The package…I…”
“Relax,” I cooed. “I only brought you here temporarily.”
“Who are you? Wh-what do you want?”
I could hear the bite of fear in the Human’s voice. He was one of the more recent inductees, still green and growing its second tongue. I could speak to this one plainly. It wasn’t yet lost to the cold game being played in this town.
“I just wanted to make you understand,” I explained. “Your group…your family has been poking its snout into a peace that I have worked very hard to maintain. It’s caused me some issues, but we need not be enemies. All I ask for is some…indifference to be practiced between us.”
“I d-don’t understand. Who are you?”
“You may call me The Duskwall Shadestalker, and you will understand very shortly.”
I stood from my seat slowly. Gripping the flask in my paw, I meandered towards the bound exterminator. It looked up at me like a cornered animal, but that was giving it too much credit, perhaps. Animals didn't go looking for trouble on purpose, not like this pest that came to my store to spy behind my counter and interrogate me.
“What do you want with me?” it growled. “You know capturing an exterminator is grounds for predator disease. The guild will find you, freak. I hope you're fine with living in a fucking facility.”
I held the flask up once more, taking in the reflection of my mask, as well as that of the black-pelted Human watching the interaction unfold from behind. Was he fully awake? I’d only get a good take of this scene once. This performance was about to take a rather intense departure from the original script.
“It wouldn't be the first time I saw those blank walls,” I sighed. “They taught me to speak your tongues. They taught me to be what I wasn't, what you should have feared…”
I raised the container over my head.
“Vermin, like you.”
I flung the flask’s contents into the silver suit’s face…
…and he screamed.
“AAAAAUUUUGGGHHH!!! AAAUUGH!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!”
The Human recoiled as the acid began to eat into the exterminator’s face. Its skin blistered and boiled as the fur came off in patches. It brought its paws up to scrub the burning liquid away, but the sizzling only spread to its digits.
“NOW ISN’T THAT SOMETHING?!” I shouted over the screams. “WHAT A SATISFYING MELODY!”
“Wh-what the fuck?!” the Human shrunk even further, eyes wide with terror.
“SEE, THIS IS A MUCH BETTER TALE!” I motioned to the writhing silver suit. “THEY COME FOR THE SHARPSHOOTER, BUT THE REAL THREAT IS THE FARMER, BECAUSE THE FARMER IS REALLY THE SHADESTALKER IN A CUNNING DISGUISE! WHAT A TWIST! WHAT A TURN OF EVENTS! NO LONGER IS THIS A TRAGEDY! PERHAPS A TRAGEDY FOR THE EXTERMINATORS, BUT NOT THE FARMER! NEVER THE FARMER! NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER!”
I paused and took a deep breath.
Ah. [7.87 seconds] should be enough.
I drew another container from the lengthy pelts that draped over me. Opening the lid, I tossed its contents, a light dust, onto the vermin. The sizzling began to subside as the acid was neutralized, and his screams gradually reduced to sobs.
“P-please!” it sputtered, though its voice was ragged and its lips swollen. “I'm s-sorry! Whatever I've d-done to you, I'm s-so sorry! P-please, I w-won't do it again! Just d-don't kill me!”
“You seemed so much more confident before,” I mused. “Back when you had both your tongues. Funny how pathetic you become when I cut the extra one out. Let me tell you something, scum.”
I leaned down to its shivering, blistering form.
“I hate you. I hate the way you carry yourself. I hate the way you speak with two tongues. The trash at the facility used to speak with two tongues as well. They thought they could keep me there forever, but I grew four ears so I could hear what they were really saying.”
I glanced at the Human behind me. He had shrunk up against the opposite wall, searching for something to defend himself with.
“Relax, Human,” I instructed. “You do not hold my ire yet, though I imagine you soon will.”
“No, sir!” he replied. “I'm just trying to survive out here! I don't want any trouble!”
“They'll put you up to their game though,” I sighed. “Just like they did with this vermin, just like they did with me. The two-tongued bastards always find someone new to teach their language. I fear you're already in their clutches, but, for now, I'm only going to send a message with you back to your boss.”
“My b-boss,” he repeated. “God dammit, Don n-never mentioned it would get this b-bad. Oh fuck. I don't wanna die. I was just s-supposed to be running some contraband…”
“I'm afraid you were a tad unlucky,” I patted remnants of the neutralizer off my cloak. “You were just the easiest one for me to nab. Sorry, for what it's worth, but it had to be someone.”
I turned back to the silver suit.
“Just like this one here.”
I drove my foot into his side, then stomped his gut. I kicked him over and over, shattering bones and puncturing flesh with my claws. The vermin yelped and sobbed as I struck it, begging for me to relent.
I only kicked harder.
“YOU WALKED SO PROUDLY, SO CONFIDENTLY! YOU BELIEVE YOUR AUTHORITY MADE YOU UNTOUCHABLE, BUT NOTHING IS INVINCIBLE. ANYTHING CAN DIE, ESPECIALLY SCUM!”
I drew my ratchet from my cloak, turning it over in my paws. The silver suit looked up at me. With just one eye still working, it had to turn awkwardly to see.
“The story…the ratchet…” it wheezed. “I know you. You were-”
I slammed the ratchet into its singed face. I swung and smashed and crushed and broke and shattered and hurt until there was hardly anything left to recognize. Finally, out of breath, I tossed the ratchet to the floor.
“Oh god…urk…” the Human gagged. “Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. You're a fucking psycho…”
I turned around and slumped back into my seat until the Human stopped whimpering.
“Now, for the message,” I mumbled. “Tell this Don of yours to leave Duskwall Street alone. Your protection offers are attracting unwanted attention that I tried to keep away for a long time. You can be in the pocketbooks of every business in every other part of this town, but you leave Duskwall Street untouched or we're going to have trouble.”
“Y-you’re threatening us?”
“Why does everyone think I'm threatening them?” I flicked my ears in irritation. “It's simply the truth. Stay out of my fur, and I'll stay out of yours. Easy.”
“I'll tell him,” the Human assured me. “I promise I will. Just…don't hurt me…”
“I won't,” I replied. “But I am going to have to conk you out again before I set you free. Can't have you coming back to this place. And, moreover, I'd suggest you try to cut ties with that family of yours if you can. I doubt you'll find the opportunity, but take it if you do, before they turn you into vermin.”
With that, I strode over to him, pressing a chloroform-soaked rag to his face until his mind drifted away. Then, I placed a sack over top and lugged him out the door.
Best make this fast. Still need to melt the rest of that body this paw.
-
Memory transcription subject: Quinlim, Suspected Capozzi Family Associate
Date [standardized human time]: October 14th, 2136
“This is…troubling,” Don sighed.
Many of us had huddled into the back of the Drunken Venlil, an abruptly called meeting to discuss a recent development. A newer face, Gary, had been tasked with moving a small package of contraband, but he'd disappeared, then turned up near the distillery, completely unconscious. When he came to, he was inconsolable. Not once had I seen a Human look so terrified, like the common prey we were often encouraged to be.
“It's just one man,” Trilvri huffed. “Could he truly be a threat?”
“He's not normal!” Gary all but shouted. “You don't understand! There's something wrong upstairs, you can hear it in his voice!”
“Easy, gentleman,” Don raised a hand. “We can handle this business calmly and with civility. Trilvri, certainly you, of all people, would know the capabilities of but a single man.”
The dark-coated Venlil turned his face to the floor.
“This is different. One man can't take on the world. That's why we organize.”
“That is true,” Don admitted. “But how many men do you want to throw to the angry bear? If it takes three of our own lives to kill it, was it smart to encroach upon its territory?”
“It's just one street,” Ivan grumbled. “We can assume this ‘Duskwall Street Shadestalker' works there, yes? How many stores turned us away? Certainly, we could determine his identity and strike first without casualty.”
“It’s…only one street!” I interjected, still somewhat spooked from Gary’s demeanor. “Can't we just…leave it be?”
Don raised his hand again.
“Quinlim, I recognize your inclination to grant this specter's wish, but you must also recognize that he kidnapped one of The Family, one of us. He could be a danger to this community, and it would simply not be right to let him do as he pleases without consequence. That is how the guild operates, without honor.”
He turned to Trilvri, then to Ivan before continuing.
“However, I believe we all need to consider the practicality of this situation. There is a reason that Gary was left unscathed. If this ‘Shadestalker’ only asks for our lack of involvement, that is a reasonable request on its own. The guild appears to be his primary enemy. Perhaps it would be best to give a wide berth for a time.”
“So we're just going to let him get away with that, with what he did to Gary?” Mac asked, bewildered. “One of our own was kidnapped!”
“God, just let him go,” Gary pleaded. “I don't even care at this point. I've already seen enough.”
“We cannot turn a blind eye to his transgression completely,” Don rubbed his hands together. “But, for the time being, we will simply observe. As of now, we will cease operations on Duskwall street. This situation may turn to favor us in time.”
Mac looked like he was about to protest, but a stern glare from Ivan shut him down before he could begin.
“And what if he comes after us anyway?” Trilvri asked. “I don't suppose we'll leave him alone then.”
Don gave a wide smile.
“If he acts first, we need only show him The Family's extensive skill set.”
-
The Nature of Family

605 angel number meaning is very powerful. It is assembled from the numbers 6, 0 and 5 and therefore has incredible meaning when it comes to love, spiritual and general significance of life. If you are seeing 605 angel number repeating or one of the other sequences than the divine is trying to send you signs.
For more angel number interpretations, check out our vibrant subreddit: https://www.reddit.com/AngelNumbersMeanings/
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605 angel number meaning
Angel number 6: is a secret code for house and close band of people in your life like family and friends. It denotes one of the big values in your life which is tradition, safety and everything that is linked to family members. You are a home person, you like to spend most of the time with the people that you already know.
You might find it difficult to be comfortable around strangers or to meet new people. the angels wants you to know, that although there are some risk involved in meeting new people, you still should do it with the right caution. Start with small steps to expand the social circle. Some people might turn to be new best friends and other will not. This is how it goes in life – you win some and you loose some. But overall consider being more social and mingle with other people than those you are already know right now.
Angel number 0: has a deep spiritual meaning, it symbolizes the vibrations of the world. Not everyone can feel them, but if you will develop your sixth sense and start to be more spiritual and / or develop psychic abilities you might start to receive those energies and will be able to interpret the meaning of them. Angels, spirits and god don’t communicate only by sending numbers, they have other means of communication and vibrations are one of them. The angels encourage you to growth and be more open minded and receive signs in other forms as well because they have lots of things to tell.
Another 605 angel number meaning is that it is the right time to go on a spiritual enlightenment process. During this phase you will not only learn how to develop psychic reading skills, but you will have to make many decisions which will have long term influence. The consequences are likely to be positive as the angels are here to guide and provide more information and directions during the chosen path.
Angel number 5: is related to the whole meaning of 605 angel number and adds the need to make decisions. Decisions are major principle in life, if you got it right than most of the things will generate positive future outcomes as gifts from god. The angels in the skies would like to inform you to not fear of being decisive. Sometimes it is better to make a certain choice than not doing anything at all. We are being rewarded base on the actions we take and not by our thoughts alone. Although ideas, inspirations and intuition are very crucial, if it doesn’t has an end result in the physical world than it will disappear.
With 605 angel number, take one step further, don’t get stuck in endless thinking patterns. After you gained enough information go and take action. Do it as a controlled experiment, something small that doesn’t involve a big risk, just for the sake of doing something new. For example if you have a day of go for a job interview on other company, maybe it will open a door for a new career, go to a seminar or university to learn a new hobby or skill, visit new places and basically search for new opportunities.
605 angel number symbolism
605 angel number symbolism through history was mainly related to be generous. Angels and good spirits has always been associated with helping the human kind. So by giving to others you actually become a guardian angel yourself like Uriel and Zadkiel.
Also be happy with you have right now, it might be a lot and it might be not too much, but the angels wants to suggest to stop wanting and wanting things which will not convoy happiness. Be grateful for everything you achieved until this very moment and realize that you are fine and in fact you don’t really need to pursue new material possessions or extreme experiences.
Remember that life can take you to bad direction, you could encounter problems and obstacles which will make you miserable for years. So basically right now you are lucky because you don’t have too many worries in mind. It is also a good advice to not think about the past too much because it can’t be changed, we don’t have a time machine. It is much productive to vision the future and build it logically step by step.
The angels are sending you the number 605 because they want you to realize that you are unique person. So don’t compare yourself to others. It doesn’t matter what they are doing as long as you focus on personal goals and spiritual fulfilment. This will only create negative energies like jealousy and other bad emotions. Don’t waste effort of pretending, being fake and compete over mundane stuff like who has a bigger house, better profession or more friends. The important thing is that you are going in a direction that is good for your karma, live life as you want it to be.
Symbolism of angel number 605 includes stable substructure. Through many scribes, legends and folk stories 605 is an origin symbol of strength, the power to endure difficulties for a long time and than to overcome them a winner. Heroes have been fighting monsters, travelled in scary worlds and went to wars, only those who really wanted to come back safe, has made it. To survive on earth there is a need to be much stronger in the inside of the personality, not only physically.
Keep in mind that all the people in the world are so how connected to one another, so when they perceive you as someone who is stable and powerful they will like to be around, so if you will listen to the 605 angel number symbolism, you might discover that you are a natural leader. Hence, don’t be passive, get to be more active and in the end you might find yourself influencing on the human kind, at small or large scale.
605 angel number spiritual meaning
605 angel number spiritual meaning is endless energy and abundance. The basic explanation suggests you should not stop. If you have started some project than complete it, do it until there are substantial result, don’t quit. Quitting is for those who are too weak to endure the burden. They will never get to the point they want to be, always complaining and playing the victim. This is not a good road to walk, prove the world that you are build from a better material. Seeing 605 angel number is a definitive sign to complete a task until it’s completely done.
One example for endless energy or vibration is the concept of souls. Many people believe that after death the soul is transformed to another form or new places like heaven, hell and the sky. Moreover they believe in reincarnation, meaning that we can come back here to earth after death. The basic concept of this point of view is that the soul is an endless source of vibration.
In addition the spiritual meaning of flowing is also amplified with 605 angel number. When you flow it basically mean to understand that you can not control every tiny aspect. There are many other factors and reasons why certain events occur and usually we can not do anything about it as we are not the only players. Don’t strive to brutally enforce change on yourself or people around because it will only lead to undesired opposite outcomes.
The angels are sending you explicit instructions as quotes to stop seeking perfection and protection. Nothing is flawless and if we would wait for the perfect soulmate or twin flame or perfect job offer to come it might not come eventually. It is better to search for what is perfect for this current moment. If it is good enough for now than take it and work the way up with what is available near by.
The number zero is at the center of 605 angel number, so your main priority should be spiritual development in form of soul healing. Although you gained many experiences until now, nothing can really prepare you for a spiritual journey, there are new concept and wisdom to be learned. Always remember that life is about cycles, the beginning is also the end and vice versa. It means that you already know from inside what are the wishes and hopes, in fact in this sense life is very predictable and self awareness might reveal the future of the journey.
605 angel number in love
605 angel number in love signifies a romantic person. They take any relationship in a serious matter. They devote themselves to family and raising children. However in love there is no only romance and happiness because sometimes it is little difficult to be around them.
If you are seeing number 605 repeatedly than you tend to be a little tensed or irritated. In love and relationship it might be a major obstacle. If you will over react than sooner or later you might end up in a break up or a divorce. 605 is a sign from the divine to be more relax and flexible. Another suggestion is to be more traditional and do things in the old fashion way. You are someone who likes simple things and nostalgia, by creating this kind of environment the relationship might last for longer time.
If you have been burned out in previous relationship than it becomes more and more difficult for you to start a new one. The healing of the heart will take few months and even up to a year. As a serious person you also don’t enter too fast into romance or new connection, you take the time and deicide to do it only after you are sure for 100% that this is the right choice.
605 angel number in love means that soulmates or twin flames are very cardinal and they should be protected and loved at all cause. Hence sometime you might like to have the role of a hero or a saver or just help your spouse. Make sure not to force it on them, take into consideration that sometimes we can not help people if they are not willing to accept our guidance. Don’t take in too personally just let it go and wait till they will be more comfortable to open themselves.
In love 605 represents being a loyal partner because it contains the number 5. They will not waste their time on a person they don’t feel good around. This is also why they like to meet as much people as possible before deciding who will be their next lover. But once they made up their mind, they will not change it and live with him or her forever as they believe in unconditional love.
605 angel number twin flame
605 angel number twin flame is about computability. If you are keep getting this number than the angels are giving you a bold sign to know who you are compatible with because he or she might enter to your life very soon.
605 is a sign that you don’t want to live alone, in fact values like marriage, partnership and friendship are really predominant. A twin flame gives you confidence and security and this is why it is crucial you will find someone who is a perfect match. Being with the wrong person might have bigger negative impact. Stability is something very basic within your point of view, hence it must be taking care of completely.
Accordingly you are most compatible with people who have the following life path numbers: 2, 3, 4 and 9. If a person is somehow related to numbers 5, 6, 7 he or she are not the right twin flame. You will not be able to live with him or her, they are the complete opposite and it will become a nightmare. Number 1 and 8 can go either way it depends on how much work you and the partner want to put into the success of the love relationship.
What does 605 mean in angel number? another value that is important for you is idealism. It is crucial when we are talking about twin flames. You have a vision of the ideal relationship or what does it means to be a couple who both of them are in love. It is like a dream or a sweet wish that need to be fulfilled. If it will come true than great, but if it will be a shuttered dream it might cause you sorrow for a long time. Therefore 605 angel number encourages you to keep on dreaming and searching for a twin flame, but bare in mind that there will also be disappointments.
Significance of 605 angel number numerology
What is the Significance of 605 angel number in numerology? This is a bright indication of willpower. The angels want you to increase the willpower because you have a big mission to complete. Even if you don’t know it yet, something big is coming and you will have to play your cards right. Willpower is the key words of the angel sign in that case.
In order to build a great willpower there are few things that need to be done. First, don’t be overwhelmed by the destiny or path. Start small with tiny steps, complete small chores and be very alerted with all the little details even if they look unimportant or useless. The future is yet to be revealed, so don’t stop in the middle, there is much hard work ahead.
The significance of self-reliance is another personality trait and virtue that 605 angel number is all about. You should be more independent, don’t leave critical stuff to luck or randomness. In truth trust no one as every person on earth has his or her own motive. When someone is giving an advice, he or she usually talking more about what they wish to have or do, rather than actually about something that will fit perfectly for you. They don’t do it because they are bad or manipulative by definition, but because they see themselves first.
605 angel number means resourcefulness and creativity. There is a high chance that you have artistic skill or going to be an entrepreneur. When it comes to numerology number 605 indicates doing new things. You have the ability to think out of the box and find creative solution to problems.
This is the time to chase the dreams you always had, if you are on a mundane job which doesn’t brings you happiness as it was in the past, consider to seek another occupation, something fun and fresh. People who stay all their life with the same job or place don’t have enough challenges in life, in reality they are a sleep through all the time. The routine make their life really boring, they focus too much on monetary security and stability rather than enjoying life and do meaningful stuff, this is their trade of.
Everything in life can be seen as a lesson we learn. The things we know today are the experiences of the past. The significance of 605 angel number is reminding us to act upon the knowledge we gained. In numerology 605 number is related to number two which is a symbol of sensitivity and not only about logic and brain calculation. 6 + 0 + 5 = 11, 1 + 1 = 2. So if you want to be able to navigate through life there is a necessity to combine the mind and the emotion intelligence.
605 angel number and 606 607 609 611 numbers
The repeating pattern of 605 angel number might be revealed as other numbers again. It happens because they are closely similar in their meanings, however there are some variations:
606 angel number meaning: is to be more spiritual. Although you have accomplished many things and especially material object, there is something missing in your life. Buying more products or assets will not solve this emptiness. The soul need to be fed with spiritual elements as well. The angels giving a clue to cease the shopping madness, the answer is on the other direction.
Be more minimalistic, the fewer items we have, the more we feel free. It will open a space at every house or a room but also a space in our mind. You will start to notice that there are less negative thoughts, less stress and more time to do other things like walking in nature and be with friends.
607 angel number meaning: is more spiritual than 605 and 607, it is two steps further on psychic development journey. It indicates you already have passed trough the initial knowledge phase. Now is the perfect time to find someone who will teach you how to use these powers. It can be a guru, master and oracle or any kind of spiritual guide. It is also recommended to read books about this topic and search the internet for more information. You can also consult real psychics and go to one session to see how it is done.
609 angel number meaning: is that you are lost in some ways, it is usually with reference to work and career. If you are still young than you have to find out soon what are the strength points and weak points, by doing it the angel will reveal your career path. If you are older or already did significant things in recent years, consider to change the path to something more related to people, communities and assistance in general.
611 angel number meaning: this number is ending in 11 double digits so the angels are urging you to rearrange everything connected with relationships and domestic affairs. Make a decision whether you want to keep the current because you had some troubles in the past with soulmate or twin flame.
More examples of associated angel numbers in repeating sequences are: 1, 3, 4, 8, 9, 10, 111, 1111, 222 and 333.
Repeating 605 angel number sacred signs
There are many sacred signs in which angels are contacting us everyday and even at night when we are sleeping and dreaming. 605 angel number might be hidden everywhere, within codes and other combinations, here are few of the included interpretations:
5: number 5 denotes being interested in life’s secrets. Learning how to explorer things and know how they work, why do they exists and how to use them for the benefit of all human kind.
6: is stability, the foundation we build our life with. When it comes to love it indicates strong bond between twin flames and soulmates. If you are a parent than it signifies the importance of being with the kids and to share many activities together.
50: is a clear sacred sign from angels that freedom should be the ultimate goal in one’s life. More often than not we are not truly free to do the things we really want. This is the time to create a change and pursue freedom at al cost.
56: symbolize new opportunities, most of them will be positive and successful. However you will have to adapt to new situations as well. Don’t be fixated too much on ideals and philosophy principles.
60: is explained as perfection because it contains the number 12 multiplied by 5. You seek perfection and it might be very real in the next few weeks or months. It also denotes being lucky, so there is a possibility to win unexpected money and get stuff without too much effort.
65: is about justice and judgement. When you see something wrong or injustice, you try to fix it and show everyone the victory. You are a hero for those who can’t speak about their problems or for those who need help, a modern kind of warrior.
506: angel number code is encouraging a person to be friendlier. Life is about connection between people and there are many forms of these ties. If you will be more connected to your inner self, than it will attract people with same vibrations.
560: is about getting rid of fears and doubts. It is usually something that can be solved in spiritual manners. The angels are listening to the prayers, wishes and dreams at night. They received the message and now they are working on it. Hang on tight through rough times.
650: angel number suggests being more optimistic. Positive energies will do you good it terms of happiness, joy and even health. It is really easy to slip into negativity and see the world from pessimistic view, this should be avoided as much as possible.
Where have people seen 605 angel numbers? Some popular place are:
Expensive jewelry price tickets on earrings, ring, and pendants.
Objects like hoodie, rug, phone case, plate, poster, jumper, keychain, candles, and bracelet.
Your birthday date, date of birth, in horoscope dates and zodiac signs for example Taurus, Virgo, Pisces, Capricorn, astrology chart, oracle cards, tarot deck especially cards that named: the hierophant, the fool and the lovers.
On the internet at forums like reddit, usernames, hashtags, music song length 6:05.
In math and physics as equation, palindrome, calculator, decoder and random number generator.
Glossary dictionary, sheets, books and pdf page numbers and bible verse numbers.
Urban and country places, especially roads and area codes.

First
Lori watched the shuttle gently grasp their life pod with some sort of tractoring tech. Her mind racing with a million thoughts as she tried, and failed, to keep her nerves under control. Who where these aliens that called themselves Humans. The Great Admiral had ordered everyone before exiting warp NOT to resist these humans as they had acknowledged the galactic standard call for help they had broadcast when the warp bubble they had been traveling in started shrinking exponentially as their ships where mauled by the Varille battleship.
That ship had methodically destroyed one ship after another. It's Captain staying just outside range of the capital grade lasers the Orion cruisers mounted and used it's long range missiles to first wound, then utterly destroy five Orion cruisers and the only destroyer that managed to survive getting into FTL. They had been trying for several cycles to find an exit so they could leave the FTL lanes without being outright destroyed by the Varille. Then they had gotten hit on the Regents Pride, the missile somehow managed to tear a hole from port to starboard but missed everything vital. However many civilians were lost during the loss of atmosphere and the decompression of those areas.
The blue and white shuttle steadily towed them into a much larger ship called the Titan 7. The Humans had built a giant brick with what appeared to be a hundred cargo bays! She thought seeing the massive behemoth swallow other shuttles towing life pods similar to her group. Most of the refugees on her pod where juveniles, a few expecting mothers too far along to be in fighting condition, and a wounded V.I.P. she had helped a medical officer carry the stretcher onto the pod with the badly bandaged Orion woman. He had hurried off shortly after that being summoned to assist wounded a deck below the life pods.
They went through some sort of shield and she could see other pods opening and the tall Human guards in black and grey combat armor escorting other Orion's into large clusters near interior blast doors. She found herself wondering again why these humans had decided to help them. She knew they had passed at least seven other warp gates and broadcast the same distress signal.
No one had allowed them entry. So many of the survivors had died on those ships the Varille battleship had destroyed. So many more had died on her home world of Farcee trying to escape the Varille fleet bombardment and the Brood's landing cluster's. The Varille, she knew, liked taking slaves for their mining/industrial planets. But the Brood only kept non insectoid sentient creatures around to lay their eggs in. She shuddered involuntarily as the thought wormed it's way into her thoughts.
The pod jostled as the tractor fully sat it down and released it. A light above the pods door turned a solid yellow indicating breathable air and with a "PWOOOOSHHH" the door unsealed and swung outwards. The lights inside where suddenly dim as the door revealed a towering human in a black and grey combat suit. Lori squinted as a tall, imposing human stepped into view, some sort of pulse rifle slung over it's shoulder and two small lights on the side of its helmet.
"Welcome to Sol. You have been granted temporary asylum. Please follow Sergeant Havora to your debrief. Any hostility will be dealt with swiftly and will immediately render your asylum void." The voice sounded male through it's helmets audio but with this being first contact the only thing she could think of was how big this human was! It towered over the tallest Orion adult by at least five hands. Orion's started milling about in the pod as best they could and soon where being escorted to an area denoted for their use as a gathering spot and two more pods groups soon joined them.
Lori found herself studying these humans. They had two arms and legs, an apparent head and torso. One group of people seemed to stand out, they were dressed in white with a red "+" insignia on their left shoulder. A small round machine with the same insignia hoovered along behind them. Anyone that was found as being wounded, they pulled from the groups, some that were wounded in the final battle with the Varille battle ship as they entered the Sol FTL gate. She still couldn't get a good look at their faces.
A throat was cleared near the interior blast doors as Lori spotted the small form of a humanoid reptilian only six hand's tall! It cleared it's throat and with a flick of it's small tail another humanoid biped in a black and grey combat suit stepped forward and with a very loud "clang" as they stomped a heavy metal boot and shouted, "ATTENTIONNN!"
Almost instantly she and the other Orion's went silent, their attention riveted to the small cluster of aliens arrayed in front of them. She could see various different species represented and found herself idly wondering if her first impression of humanity had actually been from a human.
"Thank you Lieutenant Commander," said the small reptilian alien in a slightly nasal voice,"I am Sargent Crom. We have been ordered to get you folks settled in for transport to more accommodating conditions." Sgt. Crom paused for a moment making sure everyone was understanding the translation before continuing. "Your wounded will be taken care of and treated as our own until they recover. Mrs Vali," Sgt Crom waved a small hand at the wounded V.I.P. she was still near and a very tall obviously female alien that had almost sparkling green skin stepped forward, her limbs long and thin, in a white body suit that had a red "+" emblazoned on the left shoulder. Several others dressed similarly to her cautiously followed her as she pulled out some sort of small flat device and ran it over the V.I.P. before motioning to two of the smaller aliens and ordering them to do something in a voice and language that sounded like tinkling bells to Lori's sensitive ears.
As Miss Vali and her team of healers worked through the crowd of Orion's, Sargent Crom continued. "Now, let's continue by saying WELCOME to the United Sol Alliance territories. As you can tell, the U.S. Alliance has several member species and government's. I am a Jabilix. Miss Vali is an Elladrin, and the lieutenant commander is Human." Lori's eyes immediately snapped back to the man in black and grey combat armor as he stood at attention slightly behind and to the left of Sargent Crom.
"We are not all of the U.S. Alliance member species," she paused, "I am sure you will eventually meet us all. Now if you would form two lines here, and here." As Sargent Crom spoke a strip of light lit up on one side of the blast doors, and as she finished another set on the other side lit up. "We will see you to a bunk, something to eat, and then your debriefing. Don't worry, we just want to know what is going on. There is no right or wrong answers. We already have most of the ships logs so this is mostly just to follow protocol." Sargent Crom waited for a few moments before adding, "Move people! We have many more pods to retrieve and space is limited."
With that Lori found herself joining the rest of the people from her pod in forming into the desired lines and soon found they where moving farther into the ship and down several decks. The humans ship was very plain with no artistic flair. Everything was solely for a purpose, and built to last. An Orion ships corridors may have been arrayed in a similar layout, they would have had beautiful curves and even aesthetically pleasing geometric patterns anywhere NOT needed for a system or station. Most doors they passed had numbers or weird letters and sometimes both.
They were eventually led to what Sargent Crom called a "Mess Hall" and shown a rather large room with the designation 104-B right next to the mess hall that was arrayed with bunks and two lockers at the end of each set of beds. Their group was informed on meal time's, shown how to access the necessities and then went through the debriefing. All in all Lori found the ordeal to be over within a few hours.
Everyone had been processed and she had even received a fancy bracelet and shown how to access it's basic functions. It was a small personal data chit! This would have cost her nearly two year's of pay back on Farcee. The Sol Alliance had already integrated the Orion language and alphabet into their system so she could see many of the other Orion's sitting about the mess hall reading whatever had caught their attention on the Sol "Internet". She had picked a table away from everyone, her thoughts on the current situation she found herself in warring with the sorrowful memories of the last few cycles. She picked at the plate of something she couldn't even start to identify but the woman with the white cap had called it "goulash", remembering when she had been picked to get on one of the three ships. Her mother, father, and older siblings had not been picked.
She had just had her name day and been granted permission to participate in the great matching ceremony that essentially would allow her to start her family and pick a suitable mate. She was at the temple of Hal'Ick having just donated the required amount of fauxauall and tuardanium which had taken a year to procure and received her license when it was reported the first Swarm ships had dropped off freighter's from the Sagoth Brood system and landed on Farcee's southern continent.
A low growl escaped as she remembered the news reports and the images of the butchered Orion's. Initially the authorities had thought the Brood ships were unsuspecting host's, having unwittingly carried them into the Orion system. They mostly thought this because the freighter's didn't run after the Swarm ships detached from their hulls and dropped into the atmosphere.
No they had instead waited for most of the Farcee home fleet to be busy trying to intercept a dozen large asteroids that had suddenly been detected moving from the outer system directly into Farcee's orbital path. Once the main force was occupied with the asteroids the freighter's, which were the old long haul sublight hulls with modified hyper drives allowing them to use the Gates had suddenly blown out sections of their own hulls revealing some sort of new plasma cannons that where already spooled up and aimed at the unsuspecting orbital defense platforms and to everyone's horror the two platforms that defended the Farcee FTL Gate. The view of the combined Varille, Sagoth Brood, and the Swarm fleets exiting out of the gate and descending on the Farcee home fleet and their brave sacrifice to allow as many civilians to escape would forever be burned into her memory. As well as the image of Farcee in ruins as the three ships ladden with skeleton crews and as many civilians of "viable" reproductive age as the Regent could get into the new experimental ships. (They had been sitting behind the second moon Boida along with the destroyer Kaighan, and 5 other cruisers which were shredded trying to defend them in side the FTL lains, so they were the only military ships able to respond to the Regents evacuation call along with many brave merchant ships which probably didn't make it.) She had taken a few bites and found herself savoring the "goulash", it was quite good!
"Mind if I join you?" Came a deep baritone voice.
She looked up and to her surprise, standing in front of her on the other side of the table was a bipedal humanoid with two small patches of fur on it's definitely primate like face. He wore a black and grey military fatigues with a black hexagonal patch prominently displaying three stripes and a delta insignia on his grey collar. After an uncomfortable moment of her staring into his bright blue eyes she replied, "Yes......yes of course." She gestured to the bench on the other side of the table. How had she understood him?!
"Thanks." He sat down and extended a hand over his food. "Names Tim, Tim Reynolds"
She had seen this greeting on her data chit and tentatively took his hand to "shake" it up and down slightly in the alien's weird greeting gesture. Why couldn't they just flick their ears like her people? "Lori." was all she replied. She hadn't chosen a mate yet so in her culture she couldn't take a second name.
He sat down and began to eat. She had wondered how the utensils wrapped in some sort of soft fiber pressed into a sheet where used. She had known basically what the dull knife was, (though why it was dull still escaped her!) She had figured the pronged instrument was for stabbing but without context and with a dull knife, she had resorted to what every other Orion had opted to do. What was natural, they had used their finger's. But seeing Tim use them she quickly adapted and before long had the basics down on holding them and their use.
"So where are you from?" He asked, before taking a bite of his food.
Her mind immediately went to the last image of her home planet she had seen through the viewport. She knew she had only been let on a ship because she had been lucky. She had been grabbed, scanned, and crammed into one of the ships. "Farcee." She said meekly remembering the craters that had been once beautiful cities suspended above a vibrant purple rainforests on massive supports. She could still see the plasma burning large swaths of it as they obliterated strong points the Orion army had set up to at least slow the bug's ground assault. No warning, no declaration of war. No reason given. One moment the Orion's were long standing trade partners with the Hive Confederacy, the next they are locked in full scale war.
The worst part had been nobody could reach the Vatt system, the next Orion inhabited system and a naval outpost to warn them. And of the dozen courier ships sent out to ask our "allies" for assistance, none was received before they had finally escaped the system through an old very rarely used gate, but had been heading away from Orion space.
The man cleared his throat and in a solemn tone said, "Uhhh, sorry Lori. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories." He rubbed the back of his neck clearly at a loss as to what to say and she still couldn't understand how she could understand him?!
"How can I understand you?" She asked. "And you can understand me?" He just nodded at the last part as he stuck a small tube through a juice box and slurped a couple times as he appeared to be deep in thought.
"Yep. Whenever you were issued your communicator," he pointed at her's, "did you feel a small prick as you synched it tight?" As she nodded now looking at her communicator he continued. "That was your standard personal nanites." She looked up puzzled by the word.
"Nanites?" She asked. She had never heard of whatever that was. The briefing had said that they had or would received them, but not where or how, or what they where.
Taking the question for what it was Tim began. "They are microscopic robots programmed to automatically repair damaged tissue, fight diseases, and viruses common through out known space. As soon as they entered your bloodstream they began reproducing and will lay dormant there until needed. Since I have my own nanites, we can communicate without much delay. To an outsider, without nanites, you are speaking your native language and I am speaking English. But we hear the words and to a minor extent feel what some psychic races say."
She stared at him for a moment, processing what he had just told her. These people were years ahead of her's in technology! She looked back down at the data chit and said, "Amazing." That was all she could get out as not a heartbeat later a proximity claxon wailed as a mechanical female voice chimed, "WARNING! Proximity Alert. Unidentified hostile ship detected." It repeated itself. All the Orion's in the mess hall were looking around nervously as others rushed out, she assumed to hurry to their duty stations. Tim though didn't budge.
He just casually slurped his juice box and absently typed something a few times on his communicator and he was suddenly looking at a screen depicting the outside of the ship. It wasn't disorienting because there was no "up" or "down" in space. Only where you or your target where in relation to each other.
She could see a sleek black spider like craft on his projected screen. It's engines at full burn as it headed towards what looked like another FTL Gate. This Gate was very busy and Lori could see cargo freighter's lined up in que, a greenish blue planet with pink splotches in the background./
"What the hell is that?" Tim asked no one in particular. She remembered seeing these ships above Farcee, or actually dropping onto it in a sneak attack.
"I think that is a swarm ship! By all the reports from the ground back on my home planet that ship has several queens on board and an entire battalion of Broodlings! " She was still looking at his communicators holographic image, and the planet in the background. "You can't let them reach a planet!" Her voice suddenly rising in a panic. If that ship reaches that planet there wouldn't be any way of stopping the Brood from establishing a colony. And once a single colony was established, they would begin systematically stripping the planet of biomass to rapidly increase their numbers, becoming a plague of the worst kind.
"Oh they aren't going anywhere." He extended his arm to provide her a better angle as a silver winged vehicle zipped by closely followed by three more. Lori could tell the Broodlings ship was much larger than the silver ship's but the United Sol ships were quickly gaining on the much larger enemy ship. Soon one of the silver ship's shot the spider like ship with what looked like a laser. One shot and she could see it's sublight engines splutter and fail. Within a few heartbeats three of the four appeared to "attach" themselves to the larger spider like vessel of the Broodlings. "Those Marines just had their day made. They get to play for a change instead of being stuck on ship." He chuckled as she caught the glint of his canine's as he smiled a definite predatory smile.
"Those are Broodlings and potentially a few of their Varille allies." She gulped. "They tore our defenses apart. They are very dangerous, you should warn them!" She looked back at the communicator. "Even these 'Marines' deserve a chance to live!"
"Calm down miss," Tim said with a sudden grin spreading wider across his face if it was possible, his white teeth flashing. "I can almost guarantee you that the scariest thing in that cluster of ships is the Terran Marines." He started shaking his head. "No, those poor bastards are having more fun than they have had in a few cycles."
The certainty in his voice and his demeanor caused her to relax somewhat. Just how strong was this Sol Alliance she wondered as she watched the communicator and finished her "goulash". She found it quite good compared to the minimal rations she had been eating on the Orion ship. She couldn't help but wonder yet again as to just what kind of people were these humans? Had they found an ally or would the U.S. Alliance end up being where her people's story ended.
Looking across the table at the young human slurping on his juice box she couldn't help but wonder which way this would go.

Introduction

Hamartiology is the branch of theology that has to do with the study of sin. Hamartiology deals with how sin originated, how it affects humanity, and what it results in both before and after death. The most popular view or position within hamartiology in general is Augustinianism, with its doctrine of "Original Sin" to be more specific.
The doctrine of Original Sin is one of the most damaging lies ever inflicted on the human race. Developed by Tertullian and popularized by Augustine, Original Sin says we all inherited a sinful nature from Adam.
There is no question that sinners have a sinful 'nature' (character) and that they all need to be saved from sin, but Augustine went further. He said humans are born corrupt, and that we inherited a rebellious streak from our forefather Adam.
Original Sin teaches that you were born spiritually dead and rebellious at heart. From the moment you drew your first breath, you were inclined towards sin, utterly depraved, and hostile towards God.
But is this actually Biblical?
This is what we'll be focusing on in this post. We will be discussing what Adam's sin was, what it wasn't, and what the consequences of that sin actually were.

Expulsion from Paradise

All are born with the weakness of the flesh. This is often called the "sin nature." We prefer the term weak flesh, because that's what Jesus says, and Paul emphasizes:

"Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”-Matthew 26:41
"But God be thanked, that ye were the servants of sin, but ye have obeyed from the heart that form of doctrine which was delivered you. Being then made free from sin, ye became the servants of righteousness. I speak after the manner of men because of the infirmity of your flesh: for as ye have yielded your members servants to uncleanness and to iniquity unto iniquity; even so now yield your members servants to righteousness unto holiness."-Romans 6:17-19

Our flesh is weak. The flesh has within it desires that if followed, can lead one to sin. Not all desires, however, are sinful. The flesh pushes us to eat in order to survive, but this is not sinful. However, we can desire food so much we become gluttonous, for example.
We also learn that the desires of the flesh are of the world, not of God:

"For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world."-1 John 2:16

Where do we get these desires? They are not from God, but of the “world”.
We have three things here:

1. The lust of the flesh

Lust here is the same in word for both and is epithumia. Depending on the context, it can be used to describe good or bad desire. In a negative context, it is desire or craving what is forbidden. In this instance, it is desires that come from within our body of flesh. For example, the desire to be touched. This itself again is not sinful, but it can lead to a sinful sexual desire. The same goes with our desire to eat as explained earlier. Paul says in Galatians 5:16, “Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh.” These desires are of the world and of self, as James says: “But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed” (Jam. 1:14).

1. The lust of the eyes

This would be looking upon something that is forbidden and desiring it. This can be both literal (physically viewing something with your eyes), or metaphorically in looking upon something that you know in your mind is forbidden. Jesus said, “And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life with one eye, rather than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire” (Matt. 18:9)

1. The pride of life

This translation is acceptable, but misses the core of the issue. The word for pride is alazoneia, and means an insolent and empty assurance, which trusts in its own power and resources and shamefully despises and violates divine laws. The word for life is bios, and means life, or one’s own life. So to be more precise, this is one that is boasting, or trusting in one’s own life. We learn in Jeremiah 17:5, that “Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the Lord.” When we trust in man, or ourselves, we are boasting in self and not in God. We are relying on, and looking for ways to rely on our own strength and power.
These three things are the pathway that leads to all sin. If we follow these harmful desires versus following God, we sin (Jam. 1:14-16).
"Are these things a result of the fall? Did Adam and Eve have these things when they were created?"

"And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat."-Genesis 3:6

The serpent persuaded Eve to appeal and trust in herself instead of God:

• the woman saw that the tree was good for food (lust of the flesh)
  
• it was a delight to the eyes (lust of the eyes)
  
• desirable to make one wise (pride of life)
  

God makes it very clear that even our first parents had to contend with the choice that is before all of us: we must either trust in God and walk by faith, or reject God and trust in ourselves and walk by the flesh.
Every one of these desires can be good. One can desire food because you need it to live and survive. One can also admire beauty, particularly in giving glory to God’s creation, and giving glory to your spouse. One can also pursue the wisdom of God, knowing that it doesn’t come from self, but from Him. Pursue His wisdom in order to live.
As Paul says in Romans 6:19, “ye have yielded your members servants to uncleanness and to iniquity unto iniquity”. This is a choice on our part. The desires are there, but when we indulge the desire and elevate it above all else, that leads to sin.

"But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death. Do not err, my beloved brethren."-James 1:14-16

We are made in God's image and likeness. While we do have a body that has within it desires that can lead to sin, we also have God’s law on our hearts, and a conscience, to teach us the way we should go. When we pursue the desires of the flesh, it leads to sinful self-indulgence (Matt. 23:25, Col. 2:23, 2 Pet. 2:10)

"For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting."-Galatians 6:8

Someone who chooses to follow the desires of their flesh is the one that sins. This leads to corruption and can lead to judgement and the second death, which is spiritual.
As Deuteronomy 30:19 says, “I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live:”
Now, what does this mean? Let's look at Jeremiah again to elaborate on God's words:

"Thus saith the Lord; Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the Lord. [...] Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is."-Jeremiah 17:5, 7

This is the big picture in life. Either follow your flesh, or follow the Spirit who is there to lead us to eternal life, by witnessing and calling us to repent and trust in the Lord.
"Don't we have it worse than Adam and Eve?"
Yes, we do have it "worse" than our first parents. We have to contend with the entire fallen world now, not the wonderful Eden that they walked in and where they didn't have to work in order to survive. They walked with God. They had a garden to eat from. They did not live in a harsh environment. They had access to the Tree of Life, and no sickness or death. We lost all these things, and because of this, we have more temptations.
They also didn't have the knowledge of good and evil like we do (it appears), since that was a result of eating of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Thus, they fully knew it was good to follow what the Lord said and evil not to follow it, but they had an innocence that was unique (much like an infant).
We now have to work to survive and to live, and in that sense, everything "we" want and need becomes something that we can indulge in and is thus a temptation. We understand good and evil, and when you think about "coveting" (to desire something forbidden), we deal with that all the time, because we know everything morally that God considers forbidden. We deal with so many more things that are "the lust of the flesh" and the "lust of the eyes" and "the pride of life". They had one thing that was "forbidden", one "temptation", and we live in a world that appeals to every every kind of lust in so many more ways.
They had access to the Tree of Life and would have lived forever, but we lost that too, and now deal with sickness and death, and we again chase after ways to make our own fleshly lives easier.
Put simply, the consequences of Adam and Eve's sin are as follows:
1) Adam and Eve died spiritually, cut off from God
2) The ground was cursed
3) Adam's burden of work was increased
4) The pain of child birth for Eve increased
5) Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden, cut off from the Tree of Life
Notice how nothing in the account of events pertaining to Adam and Eve's rebellion in the Garden of Eden even remotely suggests that we are now all born personally guilty of our forefather's sin, or that we all have a "sin nature" as a result or consequence of that sin. The only way to reach the conclusions put forth in the doctrine of Original Sin is to assume that consequence #1 here ("Adam and Eve died spiritually, cut off from God") necessarily applies to ALL humans. This man-made doctrine conflates the general and physical (fleshly) consequences we all of course experience as a result of Adam and Eve's sin with the individual and spiritual consequence that THEY experienced for their OWN actions. Such a conflation and assumption is not actually justified, as we'll soon see.
Each succeeding generation of Adam and Eve are born as mortal, responsible to God for their own choice to be righteous or wicked. Cain and Abel prove this beyond any shadow of a doubt, as they were both born after "the fall." Both were fully able to obey God within the capacity of their free will. Abel chose to offer God a more acceptable sacrifice, attaining witness that his deeds were righteous (Heb 11:4), while his brother Cain chose to do evil after God gave him the opportunity to turn and do what was right. God told him: "If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him" (Gen. 4:7). The fact that he was told he could "rule over him [sin]" PROVES he had the ability and will to do so.
It would be unreasonable for God to command the impossible. Further, if sin cannot be avoided, it would be unjust to be punished for any sin. Think about it. Do you condemn the lion who must hunt and consume meat to survive, because it is in their nature to be carnivorous? Of course not. So why would you condemn a man for simply acting according to his "nature" which, according to Augustine, every man after Adam has been born with? One might argue that this isn't a good analogy, since most people would agree that animals cannot be held morally responsible for anything, since they're simply acting on instinct. But that's the point, isn't it? If we're all ultimately acting on instinct, then Original Sin would make us no different than the animals.
Most "Christians" would agree that it would be unjust for any person to be blamed for another's actions, and therefore disagree with Augustine on this point of his doctrine, but these same people never go far enough in rejecting his idea of Original Sin altogether. Instead, many will still agree with him that every human after Adam has at least inherited a corrupt and sinful nature from birth due to his sin. Yet, logic demonstrates to us that to even punish someone for acting in accordance with the nature that they were born with would also be unjust, and simply be another form of condemning a person for another person's actions, since people would be punished for a nature that was chosen for them by another man's (in this case, Adam's) sin!
But God refutes Augustinian justice over and over again, with the most explicit refutation being the entire 18th chapter of the Book of Ezekiel. This whole chapter is devoted to serving as a refutation from God that this was His idea of justice, as a similar idea to Augustine's was actually going around in Ezekiel's day. Israelites who believed similarly to Augustine were effectively accusing God of injustice by arguing that innocent children inherit the punishments of wicked fathers. God said that this wasn't true, and it STILL isn't true. Read the chapter for yourself if you don't believe me.
Sin cannot be passed from one generation to another as an inherited substance within, but the physical consequences of it can indeed be visited on future generations (Num. 14:18), as was the case with Adam. This can also be seen in the example of an alcoholic and abusive father passing on the destructive effects of his sin to children and family members. You reap what you sow and the sins of one person can bring much calamity to future generations.
Original Sin negates the whole idea of repentance if true. If man is born with a corrupted nature inherited from Adam, then his sin is a malady, like a genetic disease. How can he thus repent of a "nature," or malady, dwelling inside him? He can't, as it's absolutely impossible to rule over something he has no control over, or that occurred by the mere fact he was born.
The fact of the matter is we are different from the animals. We were created in the image of God and have been granted conscience and reason to determine right from wrong, and the ability to carry out righteousness.
Some have used Ephesians 2:3 as a Scriptural basis for Original Sin, which says:

"Among whom also we all had our conversation in times past in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind; and were by nature the children of wrath, even as others."

The word “nature” in this text has nothing at all to do with what man is by birth. The word nature here refers to the “character” of contemporary sinners before they were converted.
The word “nature” can be used in two distinct senses. It may refer to what man is involuntarily because of his birth, or it may refer to what man is voluntarily, by choice and apart from birth. The apostle Paul uses it in the latter sense in the text under consideration. They were not children of wrath by birth. They were children of wrath because of voluntary wickedness. This is evident from the context of Ephesians 2:3. The context shows that Paul did not have his eye on their birth at all when he used the word "nature." On the contrary, he had his eye wholly on the conduct of contemporary sinners before they were converted. He calls attention in verses one and two to the fact that, before their conversion, they had “walked according to the course of this world,” in “trespasses and sins.” In verse three, he calls attention to their former fellowship with other sinners in fulfilling the “lusts of [the] flesh” and “the desires of the flesh and of the mind.” And then, summing up the wickedness, the guilt, and the deserved punishment of their former life, he says “and were by nature the children of wrath, even as others.”
Adam and Eve had two natures, yet we know that they were not “created” with two natures. They had the nature they were created with, which was good and upright (Gen. 1:27, Ecc. 7:29), and they also had a sinful nature after they had sinned. It was this last nature, a “voluntary” nature, which made them “by nature the children of wrath.”
Men may have a “nature” in three distinct ways:
1) By Birth – This is the good and upright nature with which we are all created (Gen. 1:26-27; Ecc. 7:29).
2) By Having Sinned And Come Short Of The Glory Of God (Rom. 3:23) – This is a “voluntary nature” (Josh. 24:15, 1 Kin. 18:21, Matt. 6:24). It is the nature that makes us enemies of God, and “by nature the children of wrath” (Eph. 2:3).
3) By Being Born Again (John 3:3) – This is also a “voluntary” nature in which we, by faith, become “partakers of the divine nature” (2 Pet. 1:4). In order for a child of God to “maintain” that “divine nature”, he (or she) must “voluntarily” and “continuously” be “transformed” and “renewed in knowledge after the image of him that created him” (Rom. 12:2, Col. 3:10).
The word “nature” in the Bible, when it refers to our birth, never refers to a “sinful nature." This is shown in Romans 2:14, which says, “For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the things contained in the law [...]”. Now the word “nature” in this text does refer to the nature we receive at birth. But it is evident that the word nature used here is not a “sinful nature." For how would a sinful nature ever cause a Gentile to “do by nature the things contained in the law”? A sinful nature would not cause them to do the things contained in the Law. A sinful nature would only cause them to commit sin! Read Romans 1:26-27, 2:14-15 and 1st Corinthians 11:14. These passages show that our “nature” teaches us the differences between right and wrong, but never “causes” us to do the wrong.
Animals were made to live by instinct, but man was created to govern over his instincts, keeping them within the bounds of moral restraints. When man's desires rule over him, he is governed by emotions and uses his body (flesh) as a vehicle of self-indulgence. He then becomes like a "brute beast" (2 Pet 2:12), carousing in the world with eyes full of adultery that cannot cease from sin, and a heart trained (exercised) in covetousness. As a child, man must be taught to govern his emotions, led by example and discipline, not because "the nature is corrupt," but because the common flow of influence is bent toward self-indulgence! He will naturally follow the "tradition [of his] fathers" (1 Pet. 1:17-20); and due to the fact that we are born into an environment in which the lust of flesh, eyes, and pride of life have overtaken almost every realm and facet of our existence, there is very little (if any) godly influences to guide us into a life of purity and righteousness.
Therefore, we can logically conclude that man is born into a state of neutrality, innocent of any crime against God, having no knowledge of right and wrong. The "light" of conscience is born within him (John 1:9), but through the process of time and growth, every person reaches a maturity of understanding and must make a conscious choice between right or wrong. Since sin is not what you are, but what you do (1 John 3:4), the act of wrong-doing in violation of your conscience captivates your soul into a state of self-indulgence in which you serve your base instincts (desires-lusts) and are given over to a reprobate mind and a bondage to sin (John 8:34).
This is why the Bible says: "The soul that sinneth, it shall die" (Ezk. 18:20a), not death as in cessation of this present life (as all men pass away and die; Heb. 9:23) but death spiritually, as in the light of conscience connected to God is extinguished, no longer accusing wrong doing, but excusing it as natural conduct (Rom. 1:26; 2:15), consequently becoming "by nature [a child] of wrath" (Eph. 2:3). However, in this 'dead' state, man is still walking around with the flesh, fully able to make rational choices according to logic and reason, but preferring addiction to lustful habits that enflame the passions of the flesh.
If you understand that sin is a deliberate act of the will to disobey God, as clearly shown in the Book of Genesis, you also understand what made man a sinner: not his "nature," but his choice to follow the example of wrong doing in a long line of wrong doers. Adam and Eve's child-like dependence on the Lord supports a child's knowledge of, and desire, to live by their father's will. So even prior to awareness of an existence in separation from God, the light they were given was sufficient for guidance to eat from all the trees of the garden, but abstain from eating from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Eve no doubt may have been taken advantage of, but Adam was not deceived and therefore held responsible for the consequences of sin entering into the world. He sinned against his knowledge of the truth. Therefore in the time of temptation he chose to love darkness rather than light.
"Is sin all inclusive to mankind?"
No. Many sinned by their own volition, making sin wide-ranging and extensive among the human race, but sin itself is not all inclusive because there is still a choice to be made. And again in Genesis we find that this is true in the righteous line of Seth, Enoch and Noah, who are not numbered among the sinners, but the saints, because they freely chose to seek God and not commit sin (even in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation).
Mistakes, faults of character, errors of judgment, and lack of knowledge; these kind of stumblings DO NOT HAVE CONSENT OF OUR CONSCIENCE. Logically it is impossible to make a "willful mistake," or to "willfully continue in a fault of character," or to "willfully make an error of judgment" based on incomplete knowledge. Therefore, because these three things do not have consent of our conscience, they are not willful sins unto death. The apostle John says that "there is a sin not unto to death" (1 John 5:17). These are probably sins that do not have consent of our conscience.
When God gave His Law to the Israelites, He included special instructions about sacrifices when a person, or the entire nation, sinned in ignorance (Heb. 9:7). Leviticus 4 outlines God’s provision for those who sinned unintentionally or in ignorance. Numbers 15:22-29 restates this provision and gives details about the special sacrifices required to obtain forgiveness from the Lord when someone sinned in ignorance. Since Jesus came, there is now no need of animal sacrifices; Jesus is our advocate before the Father, interceding for us as our High Priest whenever we as believers sin in ignorance or without consent of our conscience in general. In any case, we are all still called to pray for our brethren if we believe that they have sinned a sin not unto death (Gal. 6:1, 1 John 5:16-17).
Some will misinterpret Romans 3 as teaching that sin is in fact all inclusive, and thus "all have sinned." However, context dictates that this passage and the whole letter itself is specifically meant to address the rebellious nation of Israel and the Gentiles among them in their day. What Paul says in most of Romans applies to nations, not every particular individual who has lived on earth. Even Jesus said: "I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance" (Luke 5:32). Paul is shown to be consistent with Jesus when he states: "Nevertheless death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over them that had not sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression, who is the figure of him that was to come" (Rom. 5:14).

"Why Jesus?"

Now the obvious question remains: "If man did not inherit a sinful nature from Adam and is not born dead in his sins, why does he need a Saviour?"
As we've seen, people always had the ability to choose the righteous thing in each circumstance, and so therefore it was theoretically possible (though rare) to live a sinless life in the Old Testament. However, through no fault of their own, righteous men still experienced physical death for the calamities and physical consequences brought on and into the world by Adam's sin. Scripture says the final enemy was death (1 Cor. 15:26), and clearly physical death would still need to be defeated by a Saviour if the righteous saints who came before were to be rewarded for their righteousness at the eschaton.
The Book of Hebrews says:

"Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; And deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage." (2:14-15)

This passage reveals to us that man, since his expulsion from the Garden of Eden (and thus, lacking of access to the Tree of Life), has been "subject to bondage" to the evil heavenly powers through their wielding of death as a weapon to threaten those who would sacrifice righteousness for the sake of self-preservation. If you think about it, this makes a lot of sense. The best way to tempt the people of God is to threaten them with death for disobeying the temptation to sin. Thankfully, Jesus destroyed the works of the evil heavenly powers by obeying God unto death, therefore freeing men from their bondage to sin and death itself by taking the evil heavenly powers' legal claim over them out of the way.
Now, when confronted with all this, one will inevitably reason within himself and ask: "If there were people who lived without ever having wilfully sinned before Jesus, then why didn't God just send any of those people to be our Saviour instead of forcing us to wait until Jesus would come?"
This is the point at which one should begin to realize the great significance of the virgin birth. The traditional explanation for it is that a virgin birth meant Jesus was unstained by Adam’s sin. Since he did not have a natural father, he did not inherit Adam’s sinful nature. This is an oft-repeated explanation, but one that is not found in Scripture.
The true significance of the virgin birth is that Jesus was not born into Adam’s enslaved family, and only a free man can ransom a slave.
Adam’s sin put humanity on death row. Romans chapter 5 calls it living under the condemnation of sin and death. But Jesus was not of Adam’s line. He was born outside the prison.
On numerous occasions, Jesus told his disciples that he was not from earth but had come from heaven: “For I came down from heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of him that sent me” (John 6:38). It’s like he was saying, “I’m not a prisoner. I have come from outside to set you free.”
Since Jesus is not of Adam’s line, he’s not subject to the law of death. Death can’t take him. The only way Jesus could go to the cross and die on our behalf was if he chose to.
Throughout history many pseudo-saviours have come promising freedom and most, if not, all of them were a slave to sin. They couldn’t save anyone. If you are redeemed by a slave, that slave’s master becomes your master. Even if one was truly righteous, the curse of death hung over every man born of Adam and therefore it would take someone on the outside to even break this curse for us.
Moses the deliverer shows us how this works. Moses was a type of Christ because he was the only Hebrew not owned by Pharaoh. Moses was a free man used by God to liberate a nation of slaves.
Similarly, Jesus is the only human who wasn’t a slave both to sin and death, which makes him an ideal Saviour. When you’re locked up inside, you need help from outside, and Jesus is the definition of outside help.

"None of them can by any means redeem his brother, nor give to God a ransom for him: (For the redemption of their soul is precious, and it ceaseth for ever:) That he should still live for ever, and not see corruption. For he seeth that wise men die, likewise the fool and the brutish person perish, and leave their wealth to others."-Psalm 49:7-10

Jesus becomes our brother when we choose to be born again, and thus become sons of God and "born from above" as he was.

"And he said unto them, Ye are from beneath; I am from above: ye are of this world; I am not of this world."-John 8:23
"Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. Nicodemus saith unto him, How can a man be born when he is old? can he enter the second time into his mother's womb, and be born? Jesus answered, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again. The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit. Nicodemus answered and said unto him, How can these things be? Jesus answered and said unto him, Art thou a master of Israel, and knowest not these things? Verily, verily, I say unto thee, We speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen; and ye receive not our witness. If I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe, if I tell you of heavenly things? And no man hath ascended up to heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven. And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up: That whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved. He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God."-John 3:3-21
"While he yet talked to the people, behold, his mother and his brethren stood without, desiring to speak with him. Then one said unto him, Behold, thy mother and thy brethren stand without, desiring to speak with thee. But he answered and said unto him that told him, Who is my mother? and who are my brethren? And he stretched forth his hand toward his disciples, and said, Behold my mother and my brethren! For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother."-Matthew 12:46-50

Conclusion

To summarize: Man was created in the image of God to enjoy His fellowship and to fulfill His will on the earth as His steward. Man was created in innocence; but by voluntary transgression, the first man, Adam, fell into sin. As a result, the whole race was plunged into a world of disorder and death, forced to leave the peace and life that was meant for us in Eden. Humans are born innocent, but when a person grows old enough to discern between good and evil, that person can then choose to either obey or disobey their God-given conscience. A person's conscience becomes defiled when they choose disobedience, creating separation between them and God and a bondage to sin. From this condition of separation and bondage, man can be redeemed and liberated through trust in Christ's atoning sacrifice and faithful obedience to the Father (Gen. 1:26-27; 2:17; 3:6, 13-15; Ecc. 7:29; Isa. 7:15-16; Ezek. 18; Rom. 3:24-26; 5:12-19; 6:1–8:13).
We ought to reject any notion that all humans are personally guilty of what our forefather did, or that any human born after him is born with a "sinful nature" as a result of his sin. Each individual is only responsible for his or her own actions. We ought to uphold Biblical free will, as opposed to any and all forms of Augustinianism.

"Then Peter opened his mouth, and said, Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons: But in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him."-Acts 10:34-35

First
Lori watched the shuttle gently grasp their life pod with some sort of tractoring tech. Her mind racing with a million thoughts as she tried, and failed, to keep her nerves under control. Who where these aliens that called themselves Humans. The Great Admiral had ordered everyone before exiting warp NOT to resist these humans as they had acknowledged the galactic standard call for help they had broadcast when the warp bubble they had been traveling in started shrinking exponentially as their ships where mauled by the Varille battleship.
That ship had methodically destroyed one ship after another. It's Captain staying just outside range of the capital grade lasers the Orion cruisers mounted and used it's long range missiles to first wound, then utterly destroy five Orion cruisers and the only destroyer that managed to survive getting into FTL. They had been trying for several cycles to find an exit so they could leave the FTL lanes without being outright destroyed by the Varille. Then they had gotten hit on the Regents Pride, the missile somehow managed to tear a hole from port to starboard but missed everything vital. However many civilians were lost during the loss of atmosphere and the decompression of those areas.
The blue and white shuttle steadily towed them into a much larger ship called the Titan 7. The Humans had built a giant brick with what appeared to be a hundred cargo bays! She thought seeing the massive behemoth swallow other shuttles towing life pods similar to her group. Most of the refugees on her pod where juveniles, a few expecting mothers too far along to be in fighting condition, and a wounded V.I.P. she had helped a medical officer carry the stretcher onto the pod with the badly bandaged Orion woman. He had hurried off shortly after that being summoned to assist wounded a deck below the life pods.
They went through some sort of shield and she could see other pods opening and the tall Human guards in black and grey combat armor escorting other Orion's into large clusters near interior blast doors. She found herself wondering again why these humans had decided to help them. She knew they had passed at least seven other warp gates and broadcast the same distress signal.
No one had allowed them entry. So many of the survivors had died on those ships the Varille battleship had destroyed. So many more had died on her home world of Farcee trying to escape the Varille fleet bombardment and the Brood's landing cluster's. The Varille, she knew, liked taking slaves for their mining/industrial planets. But the Brood only kept non insectoid sentient creatures around to lay their eggs in. She shuddered involuntarily as the thought wormed it's way into her thoughts.
The pod jostled as the tractor fully sat it down and released it. A light above the pods door turned a solid yellow indicating breathable air and with a "PWOOOOSHHH" the door unsealed and swung outwards. The lights inside where suddenly dim as the door revealed a towering human in a black and grey combat suit. Lori squinted as a tall, imposing human stepped into view, some sort of pulse rifle slung over it's shoulder and two small lights on the side of its helmet.
"Welcome to Sol. You have been granted temporary asylum. Please follow Sergeant Havora to your debrief. Any hostility will be dealt with swiftly and will immediately render your asylum void." The voice sounded male through it's helmets audio but with this being first contact the only thing she could think of was how big this human was! It towered over the tallest Orion adult by at least five hands. Orion's started milling about in the pod as best they could and soon where being escorted to an area denoted for their use as a gathering spot and two more pods groups soon joined them.
Lori found herself studying these humans. They had two arms and legs, an apparent head and torso. One group of people seemed to stand out, they were dressed in white with a red "+" insignia on their left shoulder. A small round machine with the same insignia hoovered along behind them. Anyone that was found as being wounded, they pulled from the groups, some that were wounded in the final battle with the Varille battle ship as they entered the Sol FTL gate. She still couldn't get a good look at their faces.
A throat was cleared near the interior blast doors as Lori spotted the small form of a humanoid reptilian only six hand's tall! It cleared it's throat and with a flick of it's small tail another humanoid biped in a black and grey combat suit stepped forward and with a very loud "clang" as they stomped a heavy metal boot and shouted, "ATTENTIONNN!"
Almost instantly she and the other Orion's went silent, their attention riveted to the small cluster of aliens arrayed in front of them. She could see various different species represented and found herself idly wondering if her first impression of humanity had actually been from a human.
"Thank you Lieutenant Commander," said the small reptilian alien in a slightly nasal voice,"I am Sargent Crom. We have been ordered to get you folks settled in for transport to more accommodating conditions." Sgt. Crom paused for a moment making sure everyone was understanding the translation before continuing. "Your wounded will be taken care of and treated as our own until they recover. Mrs Vali," Sgt Crom waved a small hand at the wounded V.I.P. she was still near and a very tall obviously female alien that had almost sparkling green skin stepped forward, her limbs long and thin, in a white body suit that had a red "+" emblazoned on the left shoulder. Several others dressed similarly to her cautiously followed her as she pulled out some sort of small flat device and ran it over the V.I.P. before motioning to two of the smaller aliens and ordering them to do something in a voice and language that sounded like tinkling bells to Lori's sensitive ears.
As Miss Vali and her team of healers worked through the crowd of Orion's, Sargent Crom continued. "Now, let's continue by saying WELCOME to the United Sol Alliance territories. As you can tell, the U.S. Alliance has several member species and government's. I am a Jabilix. Miss Vali is an Elladrin, and the lieutenant commander is Human." Lori's eyes immediately snapped back to the man in black and grey combat armor as he stood at attention slightly behind and to the left of Sargent Crom.
"We are not all of the U.S. Alliance member species," she paused, "I am sure you will eventually meet us all. Now if you would form two lines here, and here." As Sargent Crom spoke a strip of light lit up on one side of the blast doors, and as she finished another set on the other side lit up. "We will see you to a bunk, something to eat, and then your debriefing. Don't worry, we just want to know what is going on. There is no right or wrong answers. We already have most of the ships logs so this is mostly just to follow protocol." Sargent Crom waited for a few moments before adding, "Move people! We have many more pods to retrieve and space is limited."
With that Lori found herself joining the rest of the people from her pod in forming into the desired lines and soon found they where moving farther into the ship and down several decks. The humans ship was very plain with no artistic flair. Everything was solely for a purpose, and built to last. An Orion ships corridors may have been arrayed in a similar layout, they would have had beautiful curves and even aesthetically pleasing geometric patterns anywhere NOT needed for a system or station. Most doors they passed had numbers or weird letters and sometimes both.
They were eventually led to what Sargent Crom called a "Mess Hall" and shown a rather large room with the designation 104-B right next to the mess hall that was arrayed with bunks and two lockers at the end of each set of beds. Their group was informed on meal time's, shown how to access the necessities and then went through the debriefing. All in all Lori found the ordeal to be over within a few hours.
Everyone had been processed and she had even received a fancy bracelet and shown how to access it's basic functions. It was a small personal data chit! This would have cost her nearly two year's of pay back on Farcee. The Sol Alliance had already integrated the Orion language and alphabet into their system so she could see many of the other Orion's sitting about the mess hall reading whatever had caught their attention on the Sol "Internet". She had picked a table away from everyone, her thoughts on the current situation she found herself in warring with the sorrowful memories of the last few cycles. She picked at the plate of something she couldn't even start to identify but the woman with the white cap had called it "goulash", remembering when she had been picked to get on one of the three ships. Her mother, father, and older siblings had not been picked.
She had just had her name day and been granted permission to participate in the great matching ceremony that essentially would allow her to start her family and pick a suitable mate. She was at the temple of Hal'Ick having just donated the required amount of fauxauall and tuardanium which had taken a year to procure and received her license when it was reported the first Swarm ships had dropped off freighter's from the Sagoth Brood system and landed on Farcee's southern continent.
A low growl escaped as she remembered the news reports and the images of the butchered Orion's. Initially the authorities had thought the Brood ships were unsuspecting host's, having unwittingly carried them into the Orion system. They mostly thought this because the freighter's didn't run after the Swarm ships detached from their hulls and dropped into the atmosphere.
No they had instead waited for most of the Farcee home fleet to be busy trying to intercept a dozen large asteroids that had suddenly been detected moving from the outer system directly into Farcee's orbital path. Once the main force was occupied with the asteroids the freighter's, which were the old long haul sublight hulls with modified hyper drives allowing them to use the Gates had suddenly blown out sections of their own hulls revealing some sort of new plasma cannons that where already spooled up and aimed at the unsuspecting orbital defense platforms and to everyone's horror the two platforms that defended the Farcee FTL Gate. The view of the combined Varille, Sagoth Brood, and the Swarm fleets exiting out of the gate and descending on the Farcee home fleet and their brave sacrifice to allow as many civilians to escape would forever be burned into her memory. As well as the image of Farcee in ruins as the three ships ladden with skeleton crews and as many civilians of "viable" reproductive age as the Regent could get into the new experimental ships. (They had been sitting behind the second moon Boida along with the destroyer Kaighan, and 5 other cruisers which were shredded trying to defend them in side the FTL lains, so they were the only military ships able to respond to the Regents evacuation call along with many brave merchant ships which probably didn't make it.) She had taken a few bites and found herself savoring the "goulash", it was quite good!
"Mind if I join you?" Came a deep baritone voice.
She looked up and to her surprise, standing in front of her on the other side of the table was a bipedal humanoid with two small patches of fur on it's definitely primate like face. He wore a black and grey military fatigues with a black hexagonal patch prominently displaying three stripes and a delta insignia on his grey collar. After an uncomfortable moment of her staring into his bright blue eyes she replied, "Yes......yes of course." She gestured to the bench on the other side of the table. How had she understood him?!
"Thanks." He sat down and extended a hand over his food. "Names Tim, Tim Reynolds"
She had seen this greeting on her data chit and tentatively took his hand to "shake" it up and down slightly in the alien's weird greeting gesture. Why couldn't they just flick their ears like her people? "Lori." was all she replied. She hadn't chosen a mate yet so in her culture she couldn't take a second name.
He sat down and began to eat. She had wondered how the utensils wrapped in some sort of soft fiber pressed into a sheet where used. She had known basically what the dull knife was, (though why it was dull still escaped her!) She had figured the pronged instrument was for stabbing but without context and with a dull knife, she had resorted to what every other Orion had opted to do. What was natural, they had used their finger's. But seeing Tim use them she quickly adapted and before long had the basics down on holding them and their use.
"So where are you from?" He asked, before taking a bite of his food.
Her mind immediately went to the last image of her home planet she had seen through the viewport. She knew she had only been let on a ship because she had been lucky. She had been grabbed, scanned, and crammed into one of the ships. "Farcee." She said meekly remembering the craters that had been once beautiful cities suspended above a vibrant purple rainforests on massive supports. She could still see the plasma burning large swaths of it as they obliterated strong points the Orion army had set up to at least slow the bug's ground assault. No warning, no declaration of war. No reason given. One moment the Orion's were long standing trade partners with the Hive Confederacy, the next they are locked in full scale war.
The worst part had been nobody could reach the Vatt system, the next Orion inhabited system and a naval outpost to warn them. And of the dozen courier ships sent out to ask our "allies" for assistance, none was received before they had finally escaped the system through an old very rarely used gate, but had been heading away from Orion space.
The man cleared his throat and in a solemn tone said, "Uhhh, sorry Lori. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories." He rubbed the back of his neck clearly at a loss as to what to say and she still couldn't understand how she could understand him?!
"How can I understand you?" She asked. "And you can understand me?" He just nodded at the last part as he stuck a small tube through a juice box and slurped a couple times as he appeared to be deep in thought.
"Yep. Whenever you were issued your communicator," he pointed at her's, "did you feel a small prick as you synched it tight?" As she nodded now looking at her communicator he continued. "That was your standard personal nanites." She looked up puzzled by the word.
"Nanites?" She asked. She had never heard of whatever that was. The briefing had said that they had or would received them, but not where or how, or what they where.
Taking the question for what it was Tim began. "They are microscopic robots programmed to automatically repair damaged tissue, fight diseases, and viruses common through out known space. As soon as they entered your bloodstream they began reproducing and will lay dormant there until needed. Since I have my own nanites, we can communicate without much delay. To an outsider, without nanites, you are speaking your native language and I am speaking English. But we hear the words and to a minor extent feel what some psychic races say."
She stared at him for a moment, processing what he had just told her. These people were years ahead of her's in technology! She looked back down at the data chit and said, "Amazing." That was all she could get out as not a heartbeat later a proximity claxon wailed as a mechanical female voice chimed, "WARNING! Proximity Alert. Unidentified hostile ship detected." It repeated itself. All the Orion's in the mess hall were looking around nervously as others rushed out, she assumed to hurry to their duty stations. Tim though didn't budge.
He just casually slurped his juice box and absently typed something a few times on his communicator and he was suddenly looking at a screen depicting the outside of the ship. It wasn't disorienting because there was no "up" or "down" in space. Only where you or your target where in relation to each other.
She could see a sleek black spider like craft on his projected screen. It's engines at full burn as it headed towards what looked like another FTL Gate. This Gate was very busy and Lori could see cargo freighter's lined up in que, a greenish blue planet with pink splotches in the background./
"What the hell is that?" Tim asked no one in particular. She remembered seeing these ships above Farcee, or actually dropping onto it in a sneak attack.
"I think that is a swarm ship! By all the reports from the ground back on my home planet that ship has several queens on board and an entire battalion of Broodlings! " She was still looking at his communicators holographic image, and the planet in the background. "You can't let them reach a planet!" Her voice suddenly rising in a panic. If that ship reaches that planet there wouldn't be any way of stopping the Brood from establishing a colony. And once a single colony was established, they would begin systematically stripping the planet of biomass to rapidly increase their numbers, becoming a plague of the worst kind.
"Oh they aren't going anywhere." He extended his arm to provide her a better angle as a silver winged vehicle zipped by closely followed by three more. Lori could tell the Broodlings ship was much larger than the silver ship's but the United Sol ships were quickly gaining on the much larger enemy ship. Soon one of the silver ship's shot the spider like ship with what looked like a laser. One shot and she could see it's sublight engines splutter and fail. Within a few heartbeats three of the four appeared to "attach" themselves to the larger spider like vessel of the Broodlings. "Those Marines just had their day made. They get to play for a change instead of being stuck on ship." He chuckled as she caught the glint of his canine's as he smiled a definite predatory smile.
"Those are Broodlings and potentially a few of their Varille allies." She gulped. "They tore our defenses apart. They are very dangerous, you should warn them!" She looked back at the communicator. "Even these 'Marines' deserve a chance to live!"
"Calm down miss," Tim said with a sudden grin spreading wider across his face if it was possible, his white teeth flashing. "I can almost guarantee you that the scariest thing in that cluster of ships is the Terran Marines." He started shaking his head. "No, those poor bastards are having more fun than they have had in a few cycles."
The certainty in his voice and his demeanor caused her to relax somewhat. Just how strong was this Sol Alliance she wondered as she watched the communicator and finished her "goulash". She found it quite good compared to the minimal rations she had been eating on the Orion ship. She couldn't help but wonder yet again as to just what kind of people were these humans? Had they found an ally or would the U.S. Alliance end up being where her people's story ended.
Looking across the table at the young human slurping on his juice box she couldn't help but wonder which way this would go.

Feeling stuck in a negativity loop? Learn how your brain's natural bias towards the bad can influence your judgment and limit your success.
Our brains are wired for survival, making them more prone to threats than rewards. This "negativity bias" explains why bad news travels fast and why a single critical comment can linger longer than a dozen compliments. It's like having a built-in smoke detector constantly scanning for danger, a crucial trait for our ancestors facing predators but one that can lead to an "amygdala hijack" in modern life.
The amygdala, a part of the brain responsible for processing emotions, excels at detecting threats. Even after resolving a challenge, the amygdala might stick to "what ifs," keeping us in a state of unnecessary worry. Imagine negotiating a raise successfully, great news! But the amygdala might still linger on potential scenarios like, "What if I hadn't gotten that raise? How would I have managed?" Similarly, after a good financial investment, it might focus on potential losses that didn't happen. This negativity bias makes bad experiences stickier in our minds, subtly influencing our choices.
Research shows the profound impact of negativity. Losing $50 stresses us out more than winning $50 excites us. This "positive-negative asymmetry" means negative comments sting more than compliments feel good. We're wired to notice and remember the bad more vividly, impacting everything from our interactions to decision-making (The Power of Bad book). Think about it: have you ever dwelled on a critical email for days, or even an email you never received, while barely registering a series of positive feedback? This negativity bias can create a distorted perception of our overall performance and experiences, igniting negative self-doubt and sadness.
Interestingly, focusing on preventing bad things from happening can be more effective than chasing positive outcomes at all costs. Ignoring financial risks during a crisis is obviously unwise, just like overlooking tornado warnings. However, missing a night out might result in missing out on fun, not catastrophe (The Power of Bad Book). This highlights the importance of prioritizing avoiding the bad over maximizing good. It's not about ignoring positive events but recognizing the outsized influence negativity has on our decision-making and taking proactive steps to neutralize it.
Instead of ignoring negativity, we can leverage it for good. Here are some strategies to harness the power of bad and turn it to our advantage:

• Learn from criticism: Don't take negative feedback personally. View it as a valuable learning opportunity. Use it to identify areas for improvement. Analyze what went wrong, identify areas for improvement, and move forward with the lessons learned.
• Minimize mistakes: Actively listen and plan to avoid preventable errors. This doesn't mean micromanaging everything but taking the time to understand instructions and consider potential risk before joining a project.
• Challenge negative self-talk: When negativity hits you, counter it with a firm "not useful." Your brain may be listening, and we can trick it not to go there in the future. Avoid negative self-talk at all costs and replace it with more positive approaches. Instead of thinking, "I'm going to fail," try something positive like, "I can do this. I've worked my ass off."
• Seek positivity: Seek out positive reinforcement no matter what. Celebrate your successes, both big and small as this builds positive momentum. Share your achievements with trusted friends and colleagues. Avoid toxic people at all costs and surround yourself with positive folks.
• Redefine negative situations: Challenge negative interpretations of events. Look for the silver lining. Could this seemingly negative experience offer an opportunity for growth or learning? For example, a job rejection might be a chance to explore a different career path that's a better fit. Spinning situations in a more positive light can significantly reduce the emotional impact of negativity.

In conclusion, understanding negativity bias can help you manage your brain's power more effectively. By avoiding the bad and transforming negative into positive, you can deal with life's hardship with greater optimism achieving more happiness and success. At the end of the day, your brain can be your best friend or your worst enemy. It is up to you to make this happen, and use the power of bad to your advantage, converting negativity into a force for good.

The purpose of this post is not only to serve as a reflective piece in regards to the war and what led up to it but to detail the likely political outcomes that will arise following an (almost certain) Israeli victory, as well as to suggest measures and positions I think people should take that would result in the best outcomes for humanity. Feel free to critique any of the points I bring up, preferably directly with quotations instead of going on tangents after skimming it.
As of writing this post, we are in the beginning stages of the Rafah offensive, an offensive which signals the closing period of the war following Hamas being ousted from power in large swaths of the Gaza Strip. ~1.3 million Palestinians are currently taking refuge in Rafah.
For years many people observing the conflict have warned against irredentism and irredentist policies as a flame to the fire of the conflict. It is objectively true that while Israel undoubtedly has the benefit of being the dominant power in the region, Jews make up either just under half or barely half of the people in the region from the river to the sea. Yet despite this, right-wing Israeli parties with explicitly irredentist wishes have repeatedly won elections in Israel both local and national for decades leading up to Bibi's nearly twenty-year term(s) with some brief stints in his reign. In spite of Israelis' "democratic" desires and their desire to maintain Israel as a Jewish-majority state, they are still very much pushing for their irredentist ideas, which, chiefly due to unfavorable demographics, find themselves at odds with ideas of democracy and maintaining the Jewish character or Jewish majority of Israel. In essence, Jews essentially need no more than a "comfortable" minority of enfranchised Arabs in their state, so that they are able to sustain a Jewish political majority and keep democratic processes intact. This concept of what certain % of Arabs in a Jewish state should be a worry was well explained by Ben Gurion himself:
"Addressing the Central Committee of the Histadrut (the Eretz Israel Workers Party) days after the UN vote to partition Palestine, Ben-Gurion expressed his apprehension, stating:
"the total population of the Jewish State at the time of its establishment will be about one million, including almost 40% non-Jews. Such a [population] composition does not provide a stable basis for a Jewish State. This [demographic] fact must be viewed in all its clarity and acuteness. With such a [population] composition, there cannot even be absolute certainty that control will remain in the hands of the Jewish majority... There can be no stable and strong Jewish state so long as it has a Jewish majority of only 60%.[130]"
How do they accomplish their irredentist desires to the best of their abilities while maintaining a Jewish-majority state that they (the Jews, with a 'comfortable' minority of Arabs) can vote for democratically? I like this passage from an interview with Ilan Pappe that explains what occurred following the Six Day War, though I also like this comment which explains the options presented to them well:
"Democratic Zionism hinges on a Jewish majority and full rights for minorities. Territorial expansion is poison: The moment Israel conquered enough land that Jews were a minority in the territory it controlled, the Jewish political majority can only be sustained artificially through the disenfranchisement and segregation or outright expulsion of the Arabs, aka apartheid and genocide. It's also self perpetuating because the people who managed to enrich themselves by dispossessing Palestinians of their land will want to hold on to their ill-gotten gains and will block-vote for fascist parties that perpetuate the occupation. Rather than surrender occupied land, irredentists would expel or exterminate the locals, and this way you get genocidal Kahanists as a mass movement."
While there was a "Naksa" in 1967 it wasn't large enough to counter these issues. As a result, Israelis opted for the perpetual disenfranchisement and in many ways segregation of Palestinians while simultaneously building and expanding Jewish settlements in the West Bank. In addition to this, following over two decades of the PLO's struggles against Israel culminating in the first intifada and subsequently the Oslo accords, Israel made use of the PA to function as the governing power of what can best be compared to Bantustans for Palestinians within Israeli-controlled territory. They are not independent in any meaningful capacity and have historically served the role of lapdogs for the Israeli government. Their function, aside from parading a veneer of Palestinian "autonomy" or pseudo-independence, is - whether by design or by default - to serve as a pain reliever for the Israeli government against accusations of disenfranchisement and apartheid, the P.A's faux authority over Palestinians is regularly brought up as a means of ignoring the state of affairs which in effect is a system of apartheid against Palestinians. Essentially people often like to separate the PA-controlled areas enough from Israel so far that they compare them to say Canada and the United States in an attempt to absolve Israel of its oppressive domination over Palestinians and all the negatives that come with it. There's a reason comparing border checkpoints on the U.S-Canada border and checkpoints in the West Bank doesn't work. There's a reason Israel's "border wall" is unique from other border walls around the world. Of course how the P.A came to be is more complex than this but this is the role they serve in reality. For the same reason the existence of Bantustans for black South Africans excluding them from the political system did not serve as a meaningful justification for the state of affairs they were forced to endure, the Bantustans Palestinians currently have is not enough to dissuade all accusations of apartheid against the Israeli government. Israelis still directly govern hundreds of thousands of Palestinians in Area C and they still indirectly govern millions of Palestinians in Areas A and B of the West Bank, not only by holding unyielding power over the P.A, punishing them whenever they are too out of line (more recent example here), but in effect Israel controls virtually every aspect of Palestinian society and even basic means of how and when they can travel outside of their tiny Bantustans or enclaves and to where. For some people who've seen my other comments, this might sound like I'm a broken record but it's important I get the point across. What does this "state of affairs" entail?
Well for many years settler violence has undoubtedly been a problem Palestinians faced. More often than not when it is brought up in official and non-official capacities people trivialize the settlers and their backers, underestimating them as a fringe subgroup in Israeli society. This cannot be further from the truth. If you are interested in learning about how fundamental the settlement movement is within the Israeli government, some of the inequalities Palestinians face, and who exactly they target aside from Palestinians here is an excellent piece by the New York Times comprehensively covering the history of the settlement movement and how they have so stringently permeated Israeli political culture. Please pay attention to what they wrote and try to read the entire thing instead of skimming it, it is well-written and informative.
As I've said above for many years now Israelis have repeatedly elected political parties stringently in favor of increased settlement of the West Bank and East Jerusalem, take Likud's charter for instance (Likud has been in power and the dominant party in Israel for the better part of two decades by now). I linked a comment of mine with the source highlighting the relevant bits due to character limits on posts, but feel free to read through the entire platform. This is precisely the platform Israelis have elected to represent their interests, although it must be stressed not all Israelis agree with these views, obviously. It is not a secret that Bibi and friends are expansionists to the depths of their soul, Bibi for instance has made an innumerable amount of public appearances and statements in favor of Israeli expansionism, settlements and annexations. On numerous occasions, he has pushed strongly for annexing portions of the West Bank before things like the Abraham Accords disrupted them. Now that you understand at least part of the significance of pro-settlement sentiment in Israeli politics, it shouldn't be hard to understand the aforementioned issue of settler violence. In a UN report from September 2023 prior to October 7th, it was revealed that settler violence has displaced over 1,100 Palestinians just since 2022 alone. Since October 7th the number of incidents of settler violence has increased. To use a more anecdotal example, I had this to say about a then-disbanded settlement near my family's village in the West Bank under the second quoted part, (can't copy-paste due to character limits for posts).
The Palestinians were compared to the KKK in that very thread, but this outpost was re-established the following year, and lo and behold I found this in the New York Times just a few months ago, please just read through the bits I highlighted in the article at least. In that same article a Jewish settler literally uses the “We’re here because God gave us this land in the Torah,” (his exact words) argument to justify the illegal outpost. Side note but this type of thing is precisely why people in general must take a stance on "personal" religion in matters even tangentially related to politics, under even the slightest bit of scrutiny it is anything but personal. It is instead in large part an arbitrary set of reactionary and hostile beliefs that one feels are immune from criticism which subsequently affects political discourse and leads them to break international law and/or commit heinous acts of violence as well as derail efforts to reach a peaceful resolution. Let's not delude ourselves into believing secular parties like Likud are any better but religious fanaticism is also a problem. Hopefully this puts the issue of settler violence more into perspective.
Some of the more common occurrences that have been occurring for a while and that I've been complaining about include Israeli authorities engaging in beating (including of little kids) Palestinians, kidnapping Palestinians often arbitrarily, including innocent Palestinians, torture, and murder, including of little kids (another example) and regularly, theft both big and small, and often arbitrarily engaging in the destruction of property (desecration of Shireen Abu Akleh's memorial, destroying roads, pretty much any and all national memorials) as well as desecration of mosques (Exhibit A) (Exhibit B), administrative detention and keeping countless Palestinians imprisoned without a right to trial, and you get the point. This is just in the West Bank. Any attempt to respond to these actions is met with what is quite clearly articulated here and here. Any Jew from anywhere around the world can move to settlements in the West Bank sometimes specifically made for immigrants where they're then able to vote and live under civilian law/rule while their Palestinian counterparts are disenfranchised and living under military rule. Palestinians are banned from obtaining legal permits to build anything in the overwhelming majority of the West Bank, whereas settlers routinely build settlements on land stolen or expropriated from Palestinian localities or privately owned Palestinian land, only to have their outposts and settlements legalized and expanded, as was the case with numerous outposts that were 'legalized', like Homesh, which is the focus of the article I linked above.
This state of affairs simply isn't sustainable for Palestinians. The kleptocratic Palestinian authority and all the major players in the Arab league have time and time again offered a two-state solution with East Jerusalem as its capital and Shtayyeh even called for it to be demilitarized with land swaps. The issue is that no matter how "liberal" Palestinians are, or to what extent they increase or decrease terrorism, Israelis simply see their domination over the West Bank the best, most safe and comfortable option. As Ilan Pappe explains:
"In 1967, the government treated the West Bank and the Gaza Strip as a natural part of “Eretz Israel,” the land of Israel, and this attitude has continued ever since. When you look at the debate between the right- and left-wing parties in Israel on this issue, their disagreements have been about how to achieve this goal, not about its validity."
I and other people far smarter and more knowledgeable than I am have already anticipated every security concern that could come out of a Palestinian state and they are pretty much all solvable, whether it be by demilitarization, land swaps, ensuring cooperation, some limited troop presence or a combination of all these things and more. It's the irredentism amongst Israelis, sprinkled with religio-historical fetishism also coupled with the resources (including but not limited to groundwater) present in the West Bank that simply makes it seem like holding on to such a large chunk of an important territory is worth all the disenfranchisement, oppression and humiliation Palestinians have to face, only perpetuating the conflict.
As far as they (by they I mean Israeli irredentists) are concerned, a few Palestinian lives being taken every year is a small price to pay for the West Bank, "mowing the grass" in Gaza every now and then isn't ideal for them, while there's a lot they'd like to change, they know they simply can't ethnically cleanse or genocide Palestinians, therefore they can essentially just wait the Palestinians out, solidify their control via settlements, Olim (or jewish immigrants) and later annexations and no one can stop them. Even the United States and a plethora of the world's nations had already begun to recognize Israel's "right" to annex East Jerusalem. Same with the Golan heights which was annexed even with the approval of "leftist" Israeli parties. As far as they're concerned they could replicate the situation with the Golan heights and East Jerusalem in parts of the West Bank leaving behind enclaves for Palestinians until those inevitably fall under Israeli control as well.
This technique of slow death simply was not accepted by Palestinians. Like any other group of people, when faced with the situation they faced in the West Bank they took up a long-winded campaign of guerilla warfare. Do not mistake this statement with me saying every instance of violence by Palestinians can be excused because of this, absolutely not. The massacres on October 7th do not fall under the umbrella of justified violence/resistance against the occupation. But Palestinians in large part did carry out genuine methods of counter-attacks against their oppressors or soldiers/militants/combatants in the West Bank. The Palestinians weren't so complacent to the plans of Israelis to have them continually locked in within a grey area or kept in limbo until Israel was comfortable with it's majority enough to annex some more land. It is not reasonable to value the comfort of the Israeli state in it's irredentist ventures against Palestinians naturally having to react to their frustrating state of limbo. This limbo and statelessness excludes Palestinians from basic human experiences as a dignified people other people often take for granted and keeps them in a perpetual state of oppression.
It must be stressed, though, that Israelis misusing the amount of power they have to reach a peaceful resolution does not mean we as Palestinians don't also need to work with them, we absolutely do.
Above my focus has mostly been on the West Bank, now I am shifting to the Gaza Strip. If you thought what was above is bad, its nothing compared to what has been going on in the Gaza Strip.
Following the Second Intifada Palestinians got a blank slate in the Gaza Strip but were still plagued by the plight of other Palestinians in the West Bank and East Jerusalem (as well as parts of the diaspora), the failure of secular Palestinian politics in granting Palestinians proper independence, coupled with growing Islamist influences following the failure of predominantly secular governments in the Six Day war and following conflicts led to Hamas and other Islamist groups like the PIJ gaining a pretty much never-ending reserve of frustrated Palestinian youth that they can recruit from. To the dismay of Palestinian parents for example in Nablus, which however is in the West Bank.
I have long believed that Hamas is an evil organization at its very core which is kept alive by the constant stream of (rightfully) frustrated Palestinians (and foreign funding from oppressive regimes like that of Iran) who Hamas and allied groups then use in order to follow their short-sighted policies of meaningless terrorism often including against Israeli civilians in Israel proper as a garbage alternative to striving for peace. Here is an exhaustive list of just some of their attacks you can sift through. Their carelessness for protecting Palestinian lives is highlighted by the fact that not a single bomb shelter was built for Palestinians in the Gaza Strip. Whether or not these bomb shelters don't exist as a result of their resources being used to build/develop Gaza's complex tunnel warfare system/other military installations/weapons or because as some theorize Hamas deliberately wants as many casualties as possible is mostly irrelevant, in all cases the bottom line is the same, these groups regularly drag the Gaza Strip as a whole into wars while Palestinians basically have nowhere to take shelter in. This degree of incompetence or as some theorize outright malice in protecting Palestinian lives also serves as a pain reliever for basically any and all civilian casualties that arise from Israeli strikes. When Israel committed that particularly terrible strike on the refugee camps in Rafah a few days ago that killed over 45 people (where there was a video of a beheaded baby being held) it was justified or noted by the IDF (and noticeably by a Saudi paper almost immediately, make of that what you will) that two Hamas officials were reportedly there who engaged in militancy against the IDF in the West Bank, before Bibi called the entire strike a mishap and a tragic mistake. Israelis are so used to killing dozens or hundreds of Palestinians in one fell swoop and having it justified since Hamas doesn't provide Palestinians with bomb shelters which covers up or casts a cloud of doubt over their strikes/operations that it still thinks this behavior is fine when Palestinians are decidedly in regions where they don't live/don't have access to bomb shelters. Israel warned civilians to move, but this seems pointless since militants (or rather anyone just tied to Hamas, who Israel also targets) could also move with them since they also obviously live amongst civilians. It feels like virtue signaling, as Hamas members can blend in with civilians and relocate as instructed. This makes the warnings ineffective. People with more expertise in this field can clarify this or correct any misconceptions I have.
Even if we were to say this claim about the officials isn't dubious the fact that no one accepts the same premise when rockets are fired at Tel Aviv or cities in Israel where military/governmental institutions and officials are located in or near shows some degree of double standards. As a matter of fact, There are a ridiculous amount of plaques (you can search some of them yourself here) dotted all over Israel commemorating buildings that were used as places to store weapons, train militants etc. while they were schools, religious buildings and hospitals by the Irgun, Lehi and Haganah. There is something deeply disturbing about the IDF publicly using Hamas' tactics of storing weapons or having command centers in or near civilian areas and infrastructure to justify killing thousands of civilians in the process when the IDF's emblem stems from their predecessor which did the exact same thing, yet they celebrate them and it's apparently only bad when Palestinians do it. Just to be clear I don't agree with the practice of shooting missiles at Israeli cities but having no problem with killing many civilians because one official or something might live in the same proximity to them strikes me as very wrong.
Yes, I am aware all forms of resistance are punished, functionally Israel does not care whether you are targeting Israeli civilians in Israel proper or violent Israeli settlers/combatants/soldiers in the West Bank, you will be arrested, tortured and imprisoned for the rest of your life if you are caught resisting Israel or attacking basically any Israelis in almost any capacity, that is if you somehow don't manage to get killed on the spot. In spite of all this we must still be aware that this is irrelevant to the fact that what Hamas did on October 7th is not only morally abhorrent to anybody with a soul, but is ultimately just a garbage policy even for us Palestinians and does not qualify as any meaningful form of "resistance". Some pro-Palestinians will unfortunately try to cherry-pick instances of militants going into homes and not harming the people there but sorry, this does nothing to placate the fact that Hamas and friends were involved in murdering civilians on a mass scale. I suspect people will accuse me of some form of "bothsidesism" but both Hamas and friends as well as Israel have demonstrated time and time again that they are fine with carrying out horrifying and murderous actions.
Israel's behavior in the Gaza Strip thus far has been nothing short of abhorrent. whether it be murdering elderly civilians (another example, and another example of murder), arbitrarily destroying civilian homes, infrastructure (including mosques as seen here and here), universities and schools, mass murdering Palestinians (Exhibit A), (Exhibit B), not to mention the mass graves and starvation as a weapon of war, you get the point. As you can see in many instances they voluntarily recorded and uploaded these things to social media. Israel is slowly but surely going to take power over millions of Palestinians in the Gaza Strip directly, they will be under direct Israeli rule, Israelis' responsibility if no deal is worked out where the P.A or something takes over and will remain very close to Israelis. Palestinians collectively know Israel isn't there to "save them from Hamas" as is portrayed on their Twitter accounts, this behavior and keeping them in concentration camps is a good way to ensure Palestinians remain entrenched in political violence against Israel, no one cares when Avichay Adraee speaking Arabic embarrasses himself on Tiktok and tries to disway Palestinians from becoming militants, treating Palestinians with humanity is the best way to ensure they don't regress into further political violence.
As this war has demonstrated Palestinians simply cannot afford to try and achieve ridiculously idealistic and unrealistic goals in the face of such a dominant superpower let alone using such animalistic violence. I am well acquainted with the extent of irredentism present in Palestinian society (both in Palestine and in the diaspora), while it can match that of Israelis, at the very least the corrupt kleptocratic P.A is the only genuine force in the region interested in a two-state solution. Even one-stater Palestinians have celebrated the recent recognition of Palestine as a state by Norway, Spain, Ireland and Jamaica (might be missing a few), which is a point to strengthen my camp's base as a means of proving we actually manage to get at least parts of our vision done. I understand Palestinians are frustrated with their state of affairs, and yes I am aware of the plethora of IDF soldiers present in the casualties of October 7th that are constantly referred to as innocent civilians including in the state of the union address, none of this does anything to justify raping women or killing kids. Hostage-taking is another issue, for many years hostages were used by Palestinians as a bargaining chip since they were crucial to freeing countless unlawfully imprisoned Palestinians, eventually, the hostages were returned to their families once again, no lives were taken and Palestinians advanced their quest for liberty, Hamas and friends simply are far too different from the Palestinian militants of old, they deliberately kidnapped children on top of all the murder, rape and destruction they put forward. I do not care that some of the hostages said they were treated well or weren't harmed, children are off-limits and their actions were not only pointless and detrimental to the Palestinian cause, but also downright evil.
Hamas and their allies are sure to be dealt a critical blow as a result of this war and their heinous actions, as is Bibi's government, what is going to unfold in the coming years, following this colossal and seismic shift in the political culture and what courses of action or positions are best to take? I'm not a political analyst so this part is going to be lackluster but thats fine because I want to generate discussion/critique about any part of this post.
As recent opinion polling would show, popularity for Bibi's government has been steadily declining following his re-election in 2022, initially mainly in response to Likud's plans for the judicial reform, and particularly following October 7th. Following the attacks on October 7th, the National Unity Alliance (made up of Gantz' blue and white, New Hope and independents) is leading the polls, though the inverse is slowly starting to come back true again. Now following October 7th, Gantz' party has formed a war cabinet with Likud, and Gantz was appointed as a minister without portfolio in the thirty-seventh government, led by Bibi. What does this mean for Israel's following elections? Well I don't know. I'm not being facetious here, it's just that Israel is notorious for having a metric crap ton of new parties that keep popping up and dissolving. Case in point, Yamina which existed for only three years, one of it's founders Bennet was the prime minister of Israel briefly. Their politics are very volatile. What's important here is the data showing Bibi being dealt a critical blow. The plethora of protests against Bibi's government even before October 7th aren't an indicator that Bibi's political career will survive much longer. The ICC's warrants only make him and by extension his country more of pariahs, even if as some say Israelis would generally stand alongside Bibi against the ICC, there's no reason to keep digging the hole they're in by re-electing Bibi over and over given the security failure and judicial reform.
Palestinian polling is a little less interesting since they don't have elections and now is a bit of an awkward time to ask people for political opinions (at least ones they come to on a clear head) but here is a comment of mine going over some political polling a little while before Oct. 7. I suppose we'll have to wait until this war is over to see what Palestinians think the next course of action is best to take, right now they're obviously concerned with surviving the turmoil. Aside from Hamas' looming destruction, the situation in the West Bank can easily just stay the same until Abbas dies, if people don't bother interfering with his rule on a mass and organized scale.
People's opinions are generally malleable, whether it be from Israelis and Palestinians. In favor of a 2ss and against it. Both populations are notoriously quite stubborn but they are not aliens and the hope for a 2ss isn't completely lost.
I'll talk a bit about the United States, given that they've been bankrolling this thing on a mass scale. Now I love the United States as a country for a number of different reasons, but I will not delude myself into believing they had anything resembling a right or coherent policy.
I don't think anyone needs an explainer as to how pro-Israel Trump is, but it's possible people aren't exactly familiar with Biden's history regarding Israel:
"In 1982, shortly before Reagan bluntly ordered Begin to cease his ‘holocaust’ in Lebanon, a young US senator who revered Elie Wiesel as his great teacher met the Israeli prime minister. In Begin’s own stunned account of the meeting, the senator commended the Israeli war effort and boasted that he would have gone further, even if it meant killing women and children. Begin himself was taken aback by the words of the future US president, Joe Biden. ‘No, sir,’ he insisted. ‘According to our values, it is forbidden to hurt women and children, even in war ... This is a yardstick of human civilisation, not to hurt civilians.’" (https://tinyurl.com/352k8zna) (https://theintercept.com/2021/04/27/biden-israeli-invasion-lebanon/)
Glossing over the absolute hilarity of Begin of all people talking about not killing civilians or women and children, when the population has to choose between Trump or someone who said the above quite clearly as a conscious adult political figure you're looking at trouble. Biden even attended and spoke at Herut's (Menachem Begin's old party) Zionist for America convention. Today of course he has milquetoast Democratic Zionist takes and faux sympathy for Palestinians, but at his core he is still a politician who (very poorly) adapts to his voter base. I don't think this is surprising for a vast number of politically active Americans, Biden's lifeline as a politician is people looking at him as a lesser evil to Trump. This is hardly the biggest issue though, virtually all U.S senators are currently being bankrolled by pro-Israel lobbying groups like AIPAC, this is all public information (see list of recipients and the top contributor organizations). Likely as a result of this, for instance, the house recently passed a bill that expanded the definition of antisemitism to include the one from the IHRA, which includes "Denying the Jewish people their right to self-determination, e.g., by claiming that the existence of a State of Israel is a racist endeavor." as an example of antisemitism.
Apparently bringing up that Israel needs to uphold the Nakba to continue to exist is hate speech now. Even if it and other claims regarding racism of early Zionist leaders is backed up by innumerable quotations from Zionist and Israeli leaders. This trouble was amplified following the recent protests at U.S colleges and universities. Federal, state and local institutions, as well as countless violent mobs of provocateurs and citizens started a relentless spree of attacking protestors, shutting down protests, suspending students, and demonizing them. The liberal facade of these colleges fell apart when faced with the voice of the students at America's (and the world's) brightest and most well-known institutions. Snipers on the rooftops at colleges in place to target protestors and the violence we saw against students is simply unacceptable. This is nothing new. The same exact thing happened when they protested the Vietnam war, the Iraq war, etc. There was also a leaked audio call (apparently later they claimed it was public) from Jonathan Greenblatt who is the CEO/director of the ADL complaining about Tiktok (Confirmation by ADL themselves as real here). Soon after the house passes a bill banning TikTok. Also your nations' representatives shouldn't be signing missiles with "finish them" (another similar example), when those same missiles can result in the killing of many civilians and children in the process even if military targets are said to be the focus. Like even if the strike was going to target a legit horrible person or terrorist but it would have a number of civilian casualties, making a joke out of it or signing the missiles is not normal behavior. Perhaps for politicians it is. Otherwise you'd need to get checked for signs of sociopathy or something. Thankfully Americans are generally more than aware of how absurd stuff like this is. I'm not even gonna touch on some proposals from U.S representatives to essentially ethnically cleanse Gaza.
I don't think people are naive enough to believe there will be a warm peace between Israelis and Palestinians, however, that is irrelevant since what's needed is a cold but functioning peace and its up to reasonable people to spread the word that their interests generally lie in a two-state solution. As we have demonstrated above militancy in disgusting forms as it has been shown by Hamas when it is not needed is not only evil but a hurdle to the cause and as we have shown above so long as you consistently keep trying to further oppress Palestinians the evil that is inflicted upon them will undoubtedly fall upon your heads as well, i.e “A nation cannot be free and at the same time continue to oppress other nations.” either by only flaming the fire of terrorism and political violence by frustrated Palestinians or by autocrats like Bibi choosing to keep expanding their gains.
What Needs to happen?

1. First and foremost Israelis need to keep up the momentum against Bibi and friends based not only on their stints with corruption and aspiring dictatorial rule but also their security failures. I don't really care that Israelis are Zionists or whatever and I am not expecting them to chant "from the river to the sea", in fact I think that would be a hindrance. At a minimum push for some degree of humility amongst Israelis that lets them self-reflect upon their choices and policies on Palestinians thus far. While the press is not free for Palestinians under Israeli rule it's quite free for Israelis themselves to push this forward. Perhaps under a new government don't pull your ambassadors from countries who choose to recognize a Palestinian state and don't have your representatives at the UN pull childish stunts comparing awarding Palestine with just more privileges, not full-fledged membership, with "rewarding modern-day Nazis". We can start there. Hamas is not being rewarded with anything but an existential war they're losing with tens of thousands of Palestinian deaths in the Gaza Strip. Not only is the Israeli right detrimental to Palestinians but these right-wing parties, particularly the religious parties, are unironically and openly striving to turn Israel into a halachic and authoritarian state with the Israelis getting the short end of the stick as well. If I was an Israeli I wouldn't even vote for them, I know I talk a lot about Israel's pseudo-democracy in reference to their treatment of Palestinians, but these people are genuinely trying to undermine whatever democracy is left for Jews as well, they are aspiring dictators who regularly and openly talking about how they would use the judicial reform to target certain political opponents. And by Israelis here I mean Arab Israelis as well. It is well known that a large number of Arab Israelis simply boycotted the last elections, In 2022 only 53.2% of arab-israelis took part in the elections. This is simply stupid, use your privilege not only to improve your situation in Israel and help elect non-right-wing parties (since your communities are plagued with issues like organized crime last I heard,. and you are getting stepped over every other day for social media posts.) but also be a voice for the Palestinians.
2. In concert with the movements above, Palestinians need to abandon virtually all forms of irredentism, if putting pressure on Abbas to hold elections doesn't work and if he somehow doesn't die soon, exerting overwhelming pressure on his clique and subsequently deposing him after formulating a rational party and re-amplifying voices of reasonable people like Salam Fayyad is a good move, I don't like pretending to be an armchair general or trying to "plan" or really propose coup d'etats but him and his clique are essentially parasites on Palestinians so any thought that goes into ending their rule is good. I am not happy about your grandparents' sufferings as a result of the Nakba, nor am I asking you to love Israel. What I am asking is for people to acknowledge that your best interests lie in a two state solution. A ton of Palestinians and pro-Palestinians celebrated the recent recognition of Palestine as a state by some countries, want more of this, with all that it entails more permanently? Salvaging what's left of Palestine is the best option. Everybody and their mother already knows the cost of Hamas' carelessness. While yes, Palestinian oppression didn't start on October 7th, this war certainly did.
3. People in the West, I suppose just use your voting power to vote for candidates who can advance your country, not that of foreign nations' wars over its own via necessarily shilling tax dollars on them, as well as people who believe in maintaining a peaceful resolution over expansionism.

I have been working for 12 years successfully in many different industries but for some reason cannot keep a job more than 2 months since 2019. The year now is 2024 and I still run into the same problems every place I have worked in. My last position I worked was for a year and I left this year in Feb 2024 due to false claims from another employee that lied & said I was engaged in sexual misconduct with one of her friends that was a customer. My management took her word of mouth because she was a woman of course so I said screw it. I just brushed it off and moved on like oh its just a minor setback I'll have another job within a month with my experience.
Decided to give applying to other companies another chance but they either never called me back (even after I called them) or invited me to interview just to waste my time and passed on me, could not even find a work from home job to hire. So that was the last straw for me working for someone because I reached a conclusion that no company is reliable or honest enough to meet me half way no matter how much I thrived in business & had the customers Love my service. Next best option I had, well why not be an independent contractor where I work as a merchandiser, do fill in gigs independently or construction work on my own time and handle business, did that for 3 months but even those people were picky about my performance and set standards too high or just let me go. So now I have decided to start my own business ventures because I am very talented and have been known to be a good seller but that takes time for income to roll through.
I need my expenses paid a.s.a.p. because I have been living in a motel room for 4 months now after losing my last apartment & don't wanna ask anybody I know for anything. That has never been my style to beg and I hate being told No. I have been working Uber Eats for the last week to survive but that can only do so much. I have always been talented with my side hobbies like painting, selling clothes on EBAY, Mercari/poshmark.
I am also good at making bracelets, recording my own rap music, making beats even post interesting content on YouTube with a few views/likes but I don't feel like that would get me paid quickly because most people just make it fast out of luck or cult following & I have tried but not found too much support from a specific group of people or family to back it up so now I am out of options @ this point as far as waiting for someone to hire me. Decided that I am going to use my talents in selling clothes, music, art etc now to see what happens but idk the end result until I try.
Always just enjoyed my passions without having to seek a profit but @ this point, I dont have a choice but to work Uber Eats while starting a business if I dont wanna be homeless. I am not sure if it's even worth the time to be an entrepreneur with the cost of expenses to supply my business or have consistent loyal customers to even support me but that seems to be my only way to continue living. I have one week left in my motel room & am running out of money now to even pay another week in a motel so with my current situation does anybody even think it's worth the time to start a business when expenses keep going up everyday or should I just keep trying to be patient until someone invites me to interview again with hopes of being hired by the end of this week?

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The Final Chapter of Volume 1
Winds had started to pick up at alarming speeds all over the planet, while large chasms and crevices cracked open, filling up to the brim with lava. Continuous series of disasters rampaged all over the world, as tectonic plates crashed into each other and slowed down to a halt. Rennaya's temperature rose at a rapid rate, as every volcano on the planet erupted and placed the surface in an irreversible state.
Akio had completely sealed the planet's fate. He looked up at the ashe-colored sky, wondering if he had done enough. "My sons... Hopefully, we will meet again soon."
His heart, connected via iko to Rennaya's core, stopped, simultaneously signalling the detonation. The Elder's body, lifeless, an empty husk, began to crumble apart like clay but was soon engulfed in a blazing fire and light as the world around them began to collapse. With multiple series of earthquakes and eruptions, all preparing for the last.
Mado and Atlas, struggled to cut down their restraints, tying them to the dying planet. After another second of futile attempts, they both looked at each other, in despair. The same thoughts crossed both of their minds at the same time and without a word, they nodded, then proceeded to free each other, with beams of ice, freezing the ominous hands holding them down. In less than a second of being free, they both teleported, instantly going their separate ways.
On Galaico's island...
Calypso had just arrived, smirking as she walked up to her brother's body-less head on the beachside the uninhabited island, which, he fortunately landed on. However, confused and regretting his decisions more than ever, the island was now on fire and beginning to fall apart. Lava streamed all over the island, closing in on him.
"I thought, you would have been washed away by the waves by now." She teased.
The prince scoffed. "Please, stop with the remarks already. I'm not in the mood."
She picked her brother's head up, and hugged him, making him suffocate a little. "Aww, is poor little Gali, in a bad mood? I'll make you feel better."
Galaico was losing his patience, but he decided to keep calm, for there was no telling what his sister would do to him. "You're... Hurting.... Me."
She smiled and raised him to eye level. "Hahaha, oops, my bad. Let's get you a new body, as soon as possible."
Suddenly, the ground began to shake and rise, violently. Calypso glanced around, confused. "What's going on?"
Galaico spoke up earnestly. "I've been dreading the worst, but I've been sensing, strange iko at work, affecting the planet, although I'm not sure, who's doing it and what they aim to do. However I can tell, this planet does not have much longer."
The princess cursed, realizing that she had been too distracted. Frantically, she threw her senses all over, realizing what he was talking about. Then jumped up immediately, and leaped into the sky, just in time as the planet began to explode. The island they were standing on, had erupted upwards, along with waves of ocean water, then lava and debris from continental plates.
Calypso flew, as fast as she could, trying to escape to the sky. The atmosphere had begun to leak and started dissipating, making, it hard for them to breathe. She reinforced herself with iko, then yelled out, cursing her powerlessness, as the blast closed in, and was about to overtake them, with fatal speed.
In the nick of time, Atlas appeared before his children. They cried out in relief and despair at the same time. But more relieved as he grabbed hold of them, shifting into third gear. Then, teleported out as fast as he could, aiming for the Pandora. As the blast, continued to destroy ships of allies, and enemies alike, all around them.
Mado was facing a much similar situation, as he tried to escape the explosion at his top speed, teleporting when he had the energy. However, his side effects were taking over, hindering him at the worst moment.
The blast scarred his back, and his life began flashing before his eyes. He was close to the Alzora, the Kirosian command ship, but would not have the strength to reach it.
"So this is how I die." He chuckled to himself, as he was thrown off by a delayed shockwave and watched, the fire reach for him in the stratosphere. However, appearing, out of nowhere, Rael manifested riding a large, black dragon.
"Brother!" He yelled, while the dragon, grabbed hold of him, just as the blast engulfed them whole. However, at the same time, cracks appeared all over their vicinity, allowing them to teleport away in the nick of time.
Seven minutes before Rennaya's destruction...
The Hashin carrying the Novas met up en route and made their way together to the new coordinates. Expecting to meet up with their comrades, Thirteen and Nine. However, his life force was nowhere to be found. Instead, they were met with forces of Ceria and Kiros engaged in deadly combat. With occasional drones crashing in from overhead.
They felt their mission difficulty, had just skyrocketed. Some of them wished to go back and join Akio and Roku. However, they were devout to their orders and would stop at nothing to succeed.
The three of them, began to rise to a higher altitude together, turning their cloaks invisible, to avoid the drones and aircrafts flying overhead, from seeing them. Yet, they underestimated the advancements of Cerian tech, as several aircrafts, spotted them with hi-tech radars. Then, began tailing them, firing away, and giving away their location.
The Hashin tried to outmaneuver and lose them. Three raised pebbles into the sky, lodging them in their exhausts and engines, crashing a couple of them into the ground. Seven shot ice pikes at the remaining, as Twenty-one made sure the way forward was clear.
However, they could not outrun, the speed of the Cerian aircrafts, as more joined in to stop them, on Alcra's orders. Three-spoke up, as over one hundred jets and drones tailed them, firing an onslaught, of bullets, missiles, and laser fire. "We won't be able to shake them!"
Hordes of Kaycers, screeched the sky, numbering thousands and raced towards them, for their next meal. Several generals of the Kirosian army wondered what was going on high above them, and ordered anti-artillery to begin shooting all of them down.
Three continued. "You must make sure, they get out of here safely. It's his last order. Seven, hold on to our allies and let Twenty-one clear the way."
Both of them glanced back at him, their throats going dry, as Seven caught, the domes he threw at her. "No! Stick with us!"
Three shook his head, as a massive Kirosian ship spotted them from overhead, and began launching missiles. They were being bombarded from all sides, and only Three's titanium barriers protected them as the others fired back.
"This is the only way... I've treasured our time together, my comrades." He concluded as he clasped, his hands together, crossing three fingers over each other and the middle, index, and thumbs pressed, facing each other. "Forbidden Art, Kaze's Ritual."
With him as the epicentre, a large mountain instantaneously rose up beneath him. Then as the tips touched his toes, high up in the air, a massive volcanic explosion incinerated their assailants, and many soldiers fighting below, as the colossal mushroom cloud, blocked out the sky.
"Three!!" Seven yelled, screaming at the top of her lungs, while the winds pushed the two Hashin, further into the sky. They heard roars, shaking them back to their senses and wondered where it was coming from. Then suddenly, there was a loud gunshot, from a little over 2 kilometres away, with a bullet whizzing right through Twenty-one's left arm.
"Ahk!" He gritted his teeth, while holding his wound, and quickly produced a stone dome, around them, reinforcing it with iko.
"There's no way, a normal bullet, could have harmed you!" Seven, cried out, quickly coming to his aid, and frosting over his wound. She was now, holding on to all four of the domes, carrying Tobi and the Novas.
Twenty-one grunted as she sealed his wound. "No it has to be him, Jurgun, a Dai Hito they call the Sniper King. So he's most likely not nearby. Keep your guard up."
They heard another, roar, shaking them down to their bones. Then suddenly, Twenty-one pushed Seven back, while breaking the dome, open in half and sending her and the allies up with all of his might. Just as an emerald green dragon, chomped through the remaining and grabbed him by his left arm, as it soared past, with incredible speed.
Twenty-one, couldn't believe they existed, but he knew this wasn't the time to be shocked. He concentrated a beam, into his motionless left arm, lodged in the dragon's teeth. "Forbidden Art, Beast Mercy."
It was difficult for him to move, at the speed and winds, the dragon was producing, however, in moments, it began to plunge, down, as lava coursed through its innards, burning it from the inside out. He was finally able to free himself before crashing as his arm had burned off. He cauterized the stub and looked to the sky, hoping Seven was alright, as another loud, but saddened roar ripped through the sky.
Twenty-one cursed. This was the worst-case scenario. Immediately, he took to the sky racing for Seven, as she looked back hoping to see him okay. Only to see jaws, fading in and out of reality, then manifested the full picture of a violet dragon, about to swallow her comerade whole.
"Watch out!" She called back to him.
He couldn't hear her, but seeing her panicked expression made him look back, then instinctively speed up, igniting small rocks under his feet, to rocket faster and escape its jaws, on time.
It roared once more in frustration, and then phenomenally, its scales began to ripple and shimmer in a wave, from its tail to its throat, and out of its mouth as a large sphere of purple fire, began to take shape. A core of violet magma kept it stable, as it gained more heat, supporting the inferno.
Twenty-one looked back at Seven, giving her one last smile, as she got further and further away. "You can do this Seven."
He placed his remaining hand in front and ignited, the last rocks he had around him. They were up in the air and he wouldn't be able to summon more on time. However, he still persisted and sacrificed bits of himself, to continuously charge up his attack.
Suddenly, broken stones began dropping in his vicinity. He caught them, before they could fall any further, realizing Seven, broke apart the rest of his dome, and sent it back. They came overheated, with her help.
He smiled, knowing he wasn't alone, as the sphere grew bigger, breaking and combining together to form a miniature sun, rotating in front of his palms. Just as the violet dragon, released its flames.
He grunted, yelling out to the wind, as he poured in all of his might, for Seven, was still in range. "Forbidden Art, Star Torrent!"
The miniature sun, instantly grew four times bigger, and then cracked open, spilling a beam that collided with the violet flames of the purple dragon. He yelled at the top of his lungs, as he shifted into third gear, then slowly started to ascend to the next with his veins, flashing from orange lavaish marks to a near red and black.
The beam slowly began to eat away at the dragon's wave, however, Twenty-one was beginning to burn up, and his body, would not be able to make it. He knew the dragon had much more stamina than he could handle.
Suddenly though, there was a loud bang, leaving a hole opening up in his chest. He began to drop, not before twisting his beam, to erupt a massive explosion. Engulfing the dragon and his corpse whole, while Seven yelled out to the wind once more.
Jurgun, a middle-aged looking man at an average height, but carried a stubborn expression, floated, 1 km away, holding his sniper over, his shoulder. "That's another Hashin down. Now where did the other go."
He paused to teleport as the shockwave reached his previous position. "Well, no use looking for her now. Something strange is happening, I better order the troops to retreat."
Near the stratosphere, with Seven holding onto the allies...
Frantically, she raced towards space, finally about to reach her destination. Then, she suddenly felt immense wind and pressure reverberating through the atmosphere, causing intense turbulence on her journey. Rennaya had started to self-destruct.
She looked back, seeing cracks, devastating the face of the planet, as it entered the final stage of an end of a world. She then glanced back up, as a shuttle, sent by Commander Ba'jin, appeared out of its camouflage, opening its bay doors, as Azurian soldiers beckoned her to hurry up.
They were just over a kilometre above her. However, Rennaya, could not wait, exploding at the worst possible time.
"No!" She screamed, as she instinctively threw the four domes ahead of her, using ice to maintain her trajectory, as she tried to outrun the blast. One by one the domes crashed into the shuttle, and took a few of the soldiers in, as they tried to catch them, shaking the shuttle off course, just as the last one whizzed by.
The Hashin cursed, unable to believe what had just happened. The shuttle immediately took off as the shockwave continued to throw it off balance.
She knew, she had failed her comrades, their last order to get everyone out safely. Now as the dome, drifted off into the abyss of space, she was terrified everything was in vain.
However, she could not give up, her will wouldn't let her as she clasped her hands together and covered herself in iko, just as she was about to run out of air. "Forbidden Art! Limit Breaker."
Her eyes began to glow, while her hair flashed full silver and then settled, however, her skin began to burn from the planet's heat. In split seconds, she hopped off a platform of ice aiming to touch the dome, as it spun out of control, constantly being hit by the blast and debris.
She reached out to touch it. Inching as much as she could, till finally, her index finger graced it. She screamed, although she could no longer hear herself, and poured in all of her might, pushing the dome further into the abyss of space. "Forbidden Art, Complete Isolation!"
The dome, frosted over, thousands of times, filling air and maintaining heat within, while protecting, the occupant from the cold of space. Seven had often heard, that iko, could, sometimes maintain itself, even after its user's death, depending on their instructions.
She had never believed it. Seeing only explainable circumstances, however now more than ever. She was praying for it to be the case.
She trusted her comrades, to have made their domes capable to withstand space, as they have often done in training for recovery missions. However, it was all up to the victim's luck, if they would be able to survive and find a habitable planet.
Tears, rolled down her cheek, as Rennaya's gravity pulled her back in and engulfed her in its flames. She hoped, she had done enough, as she watched the dome float on. Escaping the blast and spinning, lost in space...
Thanks for reading this far, any critic or feedback are welcome. The next chapter 'Somber Solitude,' will drop on June 29th. I'm trying to make it my goal to write at least 5-8 more chapters in that time, wish me luck!
I also decided I'll post the timeline tomorrow, which covers up to the Dark King's arrival so that you can stay up to date.
Previous First Chapter Patreon Royal Road Next

Previous First Chapter Patreon Royal Road Next
The Final Chapter of Volume 1
Winds had started to pick up at alarming speeds all over the planet, while large chasms and crevices cracked open, filling up to the brim with lava. Continuous series of disasters rampaged all over the world, as tectonic plates crashed into each other and slowed down to a halt. Rennaya's temperature rose at a rapid rate, as every volcano on the planet erupted and placed the surface in an irreversible state.
Akio had completely sealed the planet's fate. He looked up at the ashe-colored sky, wondering if he had done enough. "My sons... Hopefully, we will meet again soon."
His heart, connected via iko to Rennaya's core, stopped, simultaneously signalling the detonation. The Elder's body, lifeless, an empty husk, began to crumble apart like clay but was soon engulfed in a blazing fire and light as the world around them began to collapse. With multiple series of earthquakes and eruptions, all preparing for the last.
Mado and Atlas, struggled to cut down their restraints, tying them to the dying planet. After another second of futile attempts, they both looked at each other, in despair. The same thoughts crossed both of their minds at the same time and without a word, they nodded, then proceeded to free each other, with beams of ice, freezing the ominous hands holding them down. In less than a second of being free, they both teleported, instantly going their separate ways.
On Galaico's island...
Calypso had just arrived, smirking as she walked up to her brother's body-less head on the beachside the uninhabited island, which, he fortunately landed on. However, confused and regretting his decisions more than ever, the island was now on fire and beginning to fall apart. Lava streamed all over the island, closing in on him.
"I thought, you would have been washed away by the waves by now." She teased.
The prince scoffed. "Please, stop with the remarks already. I'm not in the mood."
She picked her brother's head up, and hugged him, making him suffocate a little. "Aww, is poor little Gali, in a bad mood? I'll make you feel better."
Galaico was losing his patience, but he decided to keep calm, for there was no telling what his sister would do to him. "You're... Hurting.... Me."
She smiled and raised him to eye level. "Hahaha, oops, my bad. Let's get you a new body, as soon as possible."
Suddenly, the ground began to shake and rise, violently. Calypso glanced around, confused. "What's going on?"
Galaico spoke up earnestly. "I've been dreading the worst, but I've been sensing, strange iko at work, affecting the planet, although I'm not sure, who's doing it and what they aim to do. However I can tell, this planet does not have much longer."
The princess cursed, realizing that she had been too distracted. Frantically, she threw her senses all over, realizing what he was talking about. Then jumped up immediately, and leaped into the sky, just in time as the planet began to explode. The island they were standing on, had erupted upwards, along with waves of ocean water, then lava and debris from continental plates.
Calypso flew, as fast as she could, trying to escape to the sky. The atmosphere had begun to leak and started dissipating, making, it hard for them to breathe. She reinforced herself with iko, then yelled out, cursing her powerlessness, as the blast closed in, and was about to overtake them, with fatal speed.
In the nick of time, Atlas appeared before his children. They cried out in relief and despair at the same time. But more relieved as he grabbed hold of them, shifting into third gear. Then, teleported out as fast as he could, aiming for the Pandora. As the blast, continued to destroy ships of allies, and enemies alike, all around them.
Mado was facing a much similar situation, as he tried to escape the explosion at his top speed, teleporting when he had the energy. However, his side effects were taking over, hindering him at the worst moment.
The blast scarred his back, and his life began flashing before his eyes. He was close to the Alzora, the Kirosian command ship, but would not have the strength to reach it.
"So this is how I die." He chuckled to himself, as he was thrown off by a delayed shockwave and watched, the fire reach for him in the stratosphere. However, appearing, out of nowhere, Rael manifested riding a large, black dragon.
"Brother!" He yelled, while the dragon, grabbed hold of him, just as the blast engulfed them whole. However, at the same time, cracks appeared all over their vicinity, allowing them to teleport away in the nick of time.
Seven minutes before Rennaya's destruction...
The Hashin carrying the Novas met up en route and made their way together to the new coordinates. Expecting to meet up with their comrades, Thirteen and Nine. However, his life force was nowhere to be found. Instead, they were met with forces of Ceria and Kiros engaged in deadly combat. With occasional drones crashing in from overhead.
They felt their mission difficulty, had just skyrocketed. Some of them wished to go back and join Akio and Roku. However, they were devout to their orders and would stop at nothing to succeed.
The three of them, began to rise to a higher altitude together, turning their cloaks invisible, to avoid the drones and aircrafts flying overhead, from seeing them. Yet, they underestimated the advancements of Cerian tech, as several aircrafts, spotted them with hi-tech radars. Then, began tailing them, firing away, and giving away their location.
The Hashin tried to outmaneuver and lose them. Three raised pebbles into the sky, lodging them in their exhausts and engines, crashing a couple of them into the ground. Seven shot ice pikes at the remaining, as Twenty-one made sure the way forward was clear.
However, they could not outrun, the speed of the Cerian aircrafts, as more joined in to stop them, on Alcra's orders. Three-spoke up, as over one hundred jets and drones tailed them, firing an onslaught, of bullets, missiles, and laser fire. "We won't be able to shake them!"
Hordes of Kaycers, screeched the sky, numbering thousands and raced towards them, for their next meal. Several generals of the Kirosian army wondered what was going on high above them, and ordered anti-artillery to begin shooting all of them down.
Three continued. "You must make sure, they get out of here safely. It's his last order. Seven, hold on to our allies and let Twenty-one clear the way."
Both of them glanced back at him, their throats going dry, as Seven caught, the domes he threw at her. "No! Stick with us!"
Three shook his head, as a massive Kirosian ship spotted them from overhead, and began launching missiles. They were being bombarded from all sides, and only Three's titanium barriers protected them as the others fired back.
"This is the only way... I've treasured our time together, my comrades." He concluded as he clasped, his hands together, crossing three fingers over each other and the middle, index, and thumbs pressed, facing each other. "Forbidden Art, Kaze's Ritual."
With him as the epicentre, a large mountain instantaneously rose up beneath him. Then as the tips touched his toes, high up in the air, a massive volcanic explosion incinerated their assailants, and many soldiers fighting below, as the colossal mushroom cloud, blocked out the sky.
"Three!!" Seven yelled, screaming at the top of her lungs, while the winds pushed the two Hashin, further into the sky. They heard roars, shaking them back to their senses and wondered where it was coming from. Then suddenly, there was a loud gunshot, from a little over 2 kilometres away, with a bullet whizzing right through Twenty-one's left arm.
"Ahk!" He gritted his teeth, while holding his wound, and quickly produced a stone dome, around them, reinforcing it with iko.
"There's no way, a normal bullet, could have harmed you!" Seven, cried out, quickly coming to his aid, and frosting over his wound. She was now, holding on to all four of the domes, carrying Tobi and the Novas.
Twenty-one grunted as she sealed his wound. "No it has to be him, Jurgun, a Dai Hito they call the Sniper King. So he's most likely not nearby. Keep your guard up."
They heard another, roar, shaking them down to their bones. Then suddenly, Twenty-one pushed Seven back, while breaking the dome, open in half and sending her and the allies up with all of his might. Just as an emerald green dragon, chomped through the remaining and grabbed him by his left arm, as it soared past, with incredible speed.
Twenty-one, couldn't believe they existed, but he knew this wasn't the time to be shocked. He concentrated a beam, into his motionless left arm, lodged in the dragon's teeth. "Forbidden Art, Beast Mercy."
It was difficult for him to move, at the speed and winds, the dragon was producing, however, in moments, it began to plunge, down, as lava coursed through its innards, burning it from the inside out. He was finally able to free himself before crashing as his arm had burned off. He cauterized the stub and looked to the sky, hoping Seven was alright, as another loud, but saddened roar ripped through the sky.
Twenty-one cursed. This was the worst-case scenario. Immediately, he took to the sky racing for Seven, as she looked back hoping to see him okay. Only to see jaws, fading in and out of reality, then manifested the full picture of a violet dragon, about to swallow her comerade whole.
"Watch out!" She called back to him.
He couldn't hear her, but seeing her panicked expression made him look back, then instinctively speed up, igniting small rocks under his feet, to rocket faster and escape its jaws, on time.
It roared once more in frustration, and then phenomenally, its scales began to ripple and shimmer in a wave, from its tail to its throat, and out of its mouth as a large sphere of purple fire, began to take shape. A core of violet magma kept it stable, as it gained more heat, supporting the inferno.
Twenty-one looked back at Seven, giving her one last smile, as she got further and further away. "You can do this Seven."
He placed his remaining hand in front and ignited, the last rocks he had around him. They were up in the air and he wouldn't be able to summon more on time. However, he still persisted and sacrificed bits of himself, to continuously charge up his attack.
Suddenly, broken stones began dropping in his vicinity. He caught them, before they could fall any further, realizing Seven, broke apart the rest of his dome, and sent it back. They came overheated, with her help.
He smiled, knowing he wasn't alone, as the sphere grew bigger, breaking and combining together to form a miniature sun, rotating in front of his palms. Just as the violet dragon, released its flames.
He grunted, yelling out to the wind, as he poured in all of his might, for Seven, was still in range. "Forbidden Art, Star Torrent!"
The miniature sun, instantly grew four times bigger, and then cracked open, spilling a beam that collided with the violet flames of the purple dragon. He yelled at the top of his lungs, as he shifted into third gear, then slowly started to ascend to the next with his veins, flashing from orange lavaish marks to a near red and black.
The beam slowly began to eat away at the dragon's wave, however, Twenty-one was beginning to burn up, and his body, would not be able to make it. He knew the dragon had much more stamina than he could handle.
Suddenly though, there was a loud bang, leaving a hole opening up in his chest. He began to drop, not before twisting his beam, to erupt a massive explosion. Engulfing the dragon and his corpse whole, while Seven yelled out to the wind once more.
Jurgun, a middle-aged looking man at an average height, but carried a stubborn expression, floated, 1 km away, holding his sniper over, his shoulder. "That's another Hashin down. Now where did the other go."
He paused to teleport as the shockwave reached his previous position. "Well, no use looking for her now. Something strange is happening, I better order the troops to retreat."
Near the stratosphere, with Seven holding onto the allies...
Frantically, she raced towards space, finally about to reach her destination. Then, she suddenly felt immense wind and pressure reverberating through the atmosphere, causing intense turbulence on her journey. Rennaya had started to self-destruct.
She looked back, seeing cracks, devastating the face of the planet, as it entered the final stage of an end of a world. She then glanced back up, as a shuttle, sent by Commander Ba'jin, appeared out of its camouflage, opening its bay doors, as Azurian soldiers beckoned her to hurry up.
They were just over a kilometre above her. However, Rennaya, could not wait, exploding at the worst possible time.
"No!" She screamed, as she instinctively threw the four domes ahead of her, using ice to maintain her trajectory, as she tried to outrun the blast. One by one the domes crashed into the shuttle, and took a few of the soldiers in, as they tried to catch them, shaking the shuttle off course, just as the last one whizzed by.
The Hashin cursed, unable to believe what had just happened. The shuttle immediately took off as the shockwave continued to throw it off balance.
She knew, she had failed her comrades, their last order to get everyone out safely. Now as the dome, drifted off into the abyss of space, she was terrified everything was in vain.
However, she could not give up, her will wouldn't let her as she clasped her hands together and covered herself in iko, just as she was about to run out of air. "Forbidden Art! Limit Breaker."
Her eyes began to glow, while her hair flashed full silver and then settled, however, her skin began to burn from the planet's heat. In split seconds, she hopped off a platform of ice aiming to touch the dome, as it spun out of control, constantly being hit by the blast and debris.
She reached out to touch it. Inching as much as she could, till finally, her index finger graced it. She screamed, although she could no longer hear herself, and poured in all of her might, pushing the dome further into the abyss of space. "Forbidden Art, Complete Isolation!"
The dome, frosted over, thousands of times, filling air and maintaining heat within, while protecting, the occupant from the cold of space. Seven had often heard, that iko, could, sometimes maintain itself, even after its user's death, depending on their instructions.
She had never believed it. Seeing only explainable circumstances, however now more than ever. She was praying for it to be the case.
She trusted her comrades, to have made their domes capable to withstand space, as they have often done in training for recovery missions. However, it was all up to the victim's luck, if they would be able to survive and find a habitable planet.
Tears, rolled down her cheek, as Rennaya's gravity pulled her back in and engulfed her in its flames. She hoped, she had done enough, as she watched the dome float on. Escaping the blast and spinning, lost in space...
Thanks for reading this far, any critic or feedback are welcome. The next chapter 'Somber Solitude,' will drop on June 29th. I'm trying to make it my goal to write at least 5-8 more chapters in that time, wish me luck!
I also decided I'll post the timeline tomorrow, which covers up to the Dark King's arrival so that you can stay up to date.
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Credit to Blue for the wonderful cover art
Thank you to:
u/SpacePaladin15, for creating the Nature of Predators universe.
u/blankxlate, author of Sweet Vengeance, for proofreading.
EmClear, aspiring author, for proofreading
You, the reader, for your support.
Please consider reading the works of my proofreaders as they’re all authors of excellent stories and be sure to check the links below for more of my work and beautiful art from members of the community.
The following story takes place shortly after the events of Empty Eyes part 2 but, seeing as Trilvri’s story is very episodic in nature, you should be able to largely understand the story without prior context (though I would definitely recommend you give the full story a chance!)
I don’t typically believe in giving content warnings, but I have been advised to give one here. This one is a little fucked up and involves some very bad things being done both by and to minors. Consider yourself warned.
[Empty Eyes] [Nature of Family Master List]
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Empty Eyes: Children of the Grave
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Memory transcription subject: E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Date [standardised human time]: E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Transcription data heavily fragmented…Attempting post-mortem reconstruction…
E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Evidence of neural pathway tampering detected…Suspicion of attempted obstruction of justice…Decoding memory encryption…
Decoding…
Decoding…
Partial reconstruction complete…Full reconstruction ongoing…
Memory transcription subject: Trilvri, VSC Penitent Fleet Cadet (age 8 approx.)
Approximate Date [standardised human time]: 2123
The booted foot connects solidly with my skull once more, eliciting a banal sense of drudgery and tedium as I blink away the dots in my vision to stare into the face of Razvik. He’s a Venlil, like me, white of wool and sour of complexion. He too bears the hallmark scars of his time interred in a predator disease facility: friction burns over the wrists and ankles where shackles rubbed the skin raw, an arc pattern spread across the throat and chest from his shock collar, and lopsided facial features born of a collision with a truncheon where the bones failed to set properly. He probably thinks the slightly slack-jawed appearance makes him look tough. His two henchmen certainly seem to think so standing beside him, too weak and cowardly to make it on their own, choosing instead to trust their fates to Razvik.
It’s a sensible choice… almost. Razvik is big, one of the oldest among our group, and fully endowed by the blessings of puberty. Something most of the rest of us probably won’t live long enough to experience for ourselves. Until the paw when we inevitably meet our fate, digested inside of an Arxur’s stomach or scattered to vapours of dust amid the wreckage of our ships, however, we need to contend with the self proclaimed ‘apex predator’s’ rule. We stand little chance fighting back against a teenager, almost a man in full, and he knows it. What those who follow him seem to forget though, is that Razvik has no loyalty. No empathy to speak of. He’s just as broken as the rest of us, and he’ll turn on those who follow him just as quickly as anyone else. They’re just being saved for last.
“What’s the matter, Dead-Meat?” He sneers at me, baring his teeth in a snarl as he looks down on my form crumpled up into a ball on the floor. “Still not gonna fight back?”
Silent contempt is my armour as I lay on the floor, glaring up into his face with unblinking, unbroken eyes. I survived the facilities. I will survive this. All I have to do is what I’ve always done and I’ll make it through. Endure. Compartmentalise the external and float in a sea of the subconscious mind. Nothing he can do to my body could ever compare to the tortures I’ve borne already. Nerves, long-ago fried beyond all practical use, barely even register pain anymore, simply a dull sense of pressure that lets me know when something is killing me; and I doubt he can do more damage to my brain with just his foot than three cycles of constant electroshock and chemical experimentation already have.
“You know what, Dead-Meat?” Razvik stops to ponder me for a moment, stalking up and down the floor in front of me. “It’s almost not even worth the trouble of brahking with you anymore. You don’t have any kind of reaction no matter what we do. You’re like a vacant brahking doll. Mute more often than not. Useless. I’m half tempted to try shoving my cock up your ass to see if I can get some kind of pleasure out of you that way, but I get the feeling even that wouldn’t get through to you. Besides, it’s no fun if they don’t scream a little when I do it.”
The lackey to his left, a young Venlil boy with brown wool and a face that could almost be considered cute if not for a long scar running through his left eye to his lip, looks aside. An uncomfortable look of shame and humiliation rests upon his face as his tail curls submissively around his leg.
“You know why I keep doing it though?” Razvik asks me. “It’s because of that brahking look in your eyes. The way you look at me like I’m dirt, like you think you’re better than me. I hate it. Well let me tell you something, you’re not better than me. The Commander said it himself, who you were before you got here isn’t worth speh. Your mommy and daddy aren't gonna come in here and save you no matter how much of a big-shot they are, so get used to it.”
Never once have I tried using my Mother or Fathers names to help me. It’s been three cycles since I last saw either of them, since I’d last heard anything about them.
“I have no son… Do what you want with him…”
His final words echo in memory, a painful reminder of my failure in his eyes. For a while I had held out hope that they would change their minds, that they would come back for me, save me… In truth, I am as dead to them as they are now to me. The truth doesn’t matter to Razvik though. A sharp kick in the ribs returns my focus to the present moment as he continues to lecture, taking pleasure in extolling his own might and power over those weaker than himself.
“Pay attention when I’m talking, Dead-Meat.” He says. “All that matters in here is survival of the fittest, rule by force, and let me tell you, I’m the apex predator in here. I’m the alpha, the number one. So you’d best shape up and learn that, quick. The next time I tell you something you’d better do it pronto, without any backtalk or predatory looks. Next time you even think of giving me a reason I might just pluck those offensive little eyes of yours right out of your head for good.”
A flick of the tail sends his two goons over to me, kicking and stomping, aiming for vital points and exposed areas of soft flesh. I curl myself into a dense little ball, weathering the storm of blows with stoic indifference as I ward off the worst of the assault with arms and legs. Razvik saunters over to the cafeteria table to retrieve my tray, the inciting incident for this paws events, and upturns it, spilling the contents all over me and onto the floor.
“Make sure to get me something better for the next meal.” He says as he turns to walk away. “I need plenty of calories if I’m gonna keep my strength up.”
The other cadets watch from the sidelines as I pick myself up off the floor and salvage what food I can. It’s undeniable that this display would cost me in the future, a weak link never goes un-exploited, but there’s nothing to be done about it. I don’t have the power to change my fate. All I can do is endure.
A pair of compliance officers enter the mess hall and everyone immediately lines themselves up at attention, not wanting to garner attention or provoke our wardens ire. I don’t even have a chance. Covered in fruit juices and slops of gruel as I am, they take notice of me immediately.
My teeth clamp shut with force and I topple to the ground with searing pain racing up my leg as the first officer to reach me jabs into my thigh with an electrified baton.
“Filthy brahking predator,” he says, pressing his weapon into the small of my back to send out another jolt for added emphasis, “you’re so ungrateful you won’t even eat the food we’ve so generously provided for you. It seems you still need another lesson about penance for your actions.”
“Everyone else, into the showers!” The second officer waves his baton around the room, issuing his command. “Wash away whatever taint you can and get to your bunks for some shut-eye. Next paw won’t be any easier than this one, so get to it!”
He points his baton down at me. “You! I want this floor so clean that a proper sapient could eat off of it! Then get your ass down to the showers! The longer you take the less time you get for rest claw!”
The two officers stand around and watch me as I clean, scrubbing the polished floors until I could see my own reflection staring back at me, a vacuous little black Venlil with angry, blood-orange eyes simmering with distant hatred and rebellious malcontent. Eventually, and after the officers had their own fun, prolonging my punishment whilst chiding and ‘encouraging’ me with the occasional zap to hurry up, I finished.
Making my way down the sterile white hallway of the orbital station I arrive at the showers to find them deserted. No surprise there. Everyone else is presumably already asleep at this point, taking advantage of the rare privilege that is ‘sleep’ to bask in the wonders of nonexistence, of not being here. I hope to join them soon enough.
Cold water runs down my body, washing away the now caked-on bits of foodstuff down the drain, sending shivers down my spine as I shudder from the sudden drop in temperature. Rumour has it that the compliance officers get warm showers. Personally, I’m not sure if I believe it, though it would seem fitting if for no other reason than it would make us all the more miserable for knowing it.
As I make my way through the drying tunnel I can hear something in the distance, a quiet sobbing. I creep around the corner, silent and unseen as I balance on the soft pads of my feet. Looking out I can see Razvin and his two thugs up to their typical behaviour, cornering a small Gojid boy. I recognize him from my first day in the Corps, a quiet and sensitive lad prone to fits of tears and depression. I think his name was… Ganjeem. It’s a wonder how he managed to get into this program at all with how sensitive he is, but then again the Penitents will take just about anyone with a positive diagnosis, even if the particular subset of predator disease doesn’t showcase itself with the more violent tendencies of someone like Razvik
“That’s right, cry you little piece of speh.” Razvik grabs Ganjeem by the jaw, digging blue-stained claws into his face and pressing him up against the wall. “I’m gonna get my enjoyment out of you one way or another…”
I don’t know Ganjeem very well. I can’t even say I’ve ever really had a conversation with him. He’s as much a stranger to me as anyone else on this station, just another face in the crowd. Still, looking at him there in the corner, knowing what’s about to happen… Something stirs in my heart, a feeling I haven’t known in cycles, and it compels me to act.
“Leave him alone.” I state the order clearly, without excessive threats and bluster. I’m making a poor decision, picking a fight I know I can’t win, but I do it anyway. I feel like I don’t really have a choice.
“Oh, look who’s back for more?” Razvik turns to face me, his erect manhood displayed proudly. “Dead-Meat didn’t learn his lesson earlier. I’ll tell you what though,” he licks his misaligned lips in disgusting fashion, “I like this new energy. I might actually be able to have some fun with you this time. It seems I must have struck a nerve. Who is this little brat to you? I’m not stealing your little boy-toy from you, am I?”
“I don’t know him at all.” I answer coldly. “I’ve never even spoken to him before. Now let him go.”
“Huh, is that so?” Razvik seems genuinely surprised, perplexed by the idea that I might try to help someone I don’t know, the concept utterly foreign to him. “Doesn’t matter I suppose.” He flicks his tail with a snap and flexes his claws as he looks me in the eye. “Boys, bring him over here so I can have my fun with him. I got a certain promise from earlier that I need to uphold.”
E̶͉̖̺̣͇̽̔̓̃͑̂̍̍͝Ŗ̸͈̙̭̼̝͛̃̍̃̆Ṛ̶͖̙̩͐̆͝Ȍ̷̡̱̞̳̹̩͙̩̼͚͛R̵̝̽̈͑̌̑̐́̊̍͝!
Memory transcription interrupted…Beginning playback…
Memory transcription subject: Trilvri, Venlil Child (age 5 approx.)
Approximate Date [standardised human time]: 2120
“Mother, please!” I decry, the blazing desert sun overhead, bearing down on me with an intensity almost as merciless as hers. “We’ve been at this all paw! I just don’t get it! I’m exhausted and everything hurts! Please! I just want a break…”
My every limb aches, spasming with an acidic burn of exertion that renders me almost unable to stand or close my paw. Try as I might, I can't stop my paws from shaking. My every breath is laboured, bought at the expense of pain in my ribs and a sour taste in my lungs. A patchwork of swollen bruises are beginning to form under my wool and across my whole body where I’ve been struck. I don’t know how much longer I can keep going like this. I don’t know how I’ve even made it this far.
“No breaks!” Mother is strict in her instruction, draconian even, demanding perfection in every measure. “Maybe some people can afford to postpone their training until they’re old enough to officially join the Guild, but not you. Not my Son. We will continue working you through the forms until you can do it flawlessly!”
“But, Mother…” I plead, desperate for release, “It… It hurts…”
“Life is pain, Trilvri,” Mother answers dismissively, “and the sooner you learn that the better. Maybe you don’t appreciate it now, but this, all of this, is for your own good. You have a legacy to live up to and your Father and I will accept nothing less. You have the makings of greatness in you, it’s in your blood, but potential means nothing if you don’t use it. That requires effort. That requires pain. You’ll thank me for this someday. Now, do it again!”
“Yes, Ma’am.” I say reluctantly, still eager to please, still desperate to be loved.
Memory transcription restored…Resuming playback…
I catch the first assailant's paw by the wrist mid-swing, turning it over and throwing him over my hip with a savage snap, slamming him down hard onto the slick tile floor. Kneeling down to drop my full body weight on the joints, I compress the shoulder and elbow, breaking it in two more places, before delivering a swift punch to the throat. He barely even has time to scream as his airway starts to swell and his attention becomes singularly fixated on continuing to breathe. He’d live… probably.
It’s a surprise that I still know how to do this. It’s been at least three cycles since I’d first learned the basics and this was the first time I’d ever actually had to put any of it into practice against real opponents. Still, I suppose some things, once learned, are just impossible to forget.
The brown one with the almost-cute face is next. He hesitates for just a moment at the sight of me, completely acclimated to my typical docility and wholly unprepared for such swift and unexpected resistance. That hesitation is what does him in. With my back foot already chambered beneath me in the crouched stance, I spring out with a back kick, pressing my front paws against the floor for balance. The kick takes him in the face, raking claws up his unblemished side in a ragged trio of cuts that tear out an eyeball. That one is certain to leave a scar, but maybe he should thank me? I’m sure that he’ll be receiving less attention from Razvik now that he’s no longer pretty.
He hollers and screams, clutching at his face and screeching as he fumbles around blindly with sightless eyes, falling over himself and crashing to the floor. From down the hall I can hear the other cadets start to rise from their slumber and make their way over to investigate the disturbance. Normal prey would run and hide at such a commotion, but for these predators the scent of blood in the water only seems to draw them nearer. It seems we’ll be putting on a show.
“You bastard!” Razvik rushes me, bearing down on me with his full might as the others begin to arrive.
Crossing my arms in front of me I’m just barely able to take the blow, thrown across the room by the force and colliding with a toilet. The ceramic shatters with a crash as my back makes contact with it, driving the air from my lungs. It takes me only a moment to recover myself, the dull throb of pain all along my spine letting me know that it’s not good, but it seems I’ve managed to avoid outright breaking my back at least. Still, a moment is all it takes for Razvik to catch up with me.
He towers over me, a colossal white pillar of sadistic wrath, and wraps his fingers tightly around my throat. His supple hands squeeze hard, making my neck pop and tingle as he strangles the life out of me.
“Yeah…” He says, enraptured in ecstasy, “This is much better. It turns out you can be a fun little toy afterall. I’m looking forward to all the wonderful experiences we’re going to share. Aren’t you, Dead-Meat?”
My foot flies up between his legs with a savage snap-kick and I can feel his testicles rupture on impact, an orange stain spreading quickly out his crotch. His eyes go wide with shock and his voice pitches upward into a shrill squeak. Now isn’t the time to stop and admire my handiwork though. Seizing on the opportunity I reach behind me and grab the first thing I can find, the heavy back-lid of the toilet. Swinging it around with all my might, I crash it into his left knee, snapping it with a sickening crunch at a ninety degree angle.
Razvik flounders on the floor, reeling from the pain of his crippled limb and his existence as a newly made eunuch. His eyes are the most viscous window of hate imaginable, giving a glimpse into his sickeningly warped, predatory soul. He reaches up a paw to claw at me with a growl, and I swat it back down with a thwack of the lid, snapping three of his fingers back facing the wrong direction in the process.
“I’ll kill you!” He screams at me, barely coherent. “You’ll pay for this! You’ll suffer! You’re Dead-Meat! You hear me! Dead!”
He attempts to reach for me again with his other paw, and again I smack it away with much the same result. A howl of impotent rage and pain reverberates throughout the room. I look around at the assembled faces of my fellow cadets, watching as they wait and evaluate me, seeing what it is I’ll do next. Judging, re-evaluating their own place on the social hierarchy, and trying to figure out if they have what it takes to be on top. All they have to do… is claim that title from me…
The words of my Father come unbidden to my mind.
“Predators are not like you and me, Son. They are savage and uncivilised, devoid of empathy or mercy. The only thing they understand is force, domination, naked violence in its purest sense. When dealing with such monsters you can never show weakness, you can never back down, and you must always present yourself as an unchallengeable, indomitable threat worthy of fear and respect… or else they’ll eat you alive.”
I meet the gaze of the audience, see their questioning faces, and tighten my grip on the lid. I will see their challenge, and I will meet it head on. Simply enduring is no longer enough to survive, not under these conditions. I need to act, to prove myself. I need to become untouchable, unreachable, unconquerable. I need to become someone that none of them will ever dare to cross ever again. I need… to make an example.
“No,” I say to Razvik, my tone as cold and sharp as steel, “you’re Dead-Meat.”
I slam the lid down onto his other knee, shattering it into a million pieces. He screams; obscenities, threats, curses. It doesn’t matter. I know what needs to be done. I straddle his body and work my way up his legs, crushing thigh bones, crushing his pelvis, his spine, and his ribs. Slowly and meticulously I crush every bone in his body, prolonging his suffering and caving in his entire chest cavity. Shards of bone crack and pop through the skin, puncturing organs and spilling blood across the floor, spiralling down through the drain. Razvik is a gibbering mess, his once proud boasts and threats devolved into a series of pleading cries, begging for someone, anyone, to save him. They don’t.
I could end this quickly, a quick blow to the head delivered at just the right angle would put him out of his misery at once. Part of me almost wants to do that. Razvik is a cruel and sadistic man, someone fully deserving of the label ‘predator’, but with every blow of the lid landing upon his body like a hammer strike I can feel a small piece of my own soul breaking away. I want to, but no. This is purposeful. This is a tactical cruelty, not simply cruelty for cruelties sake. Intended and executed to send a message that will be understood and remembered by everyone here for the rest of their short, miserable lives.
Don’t brahk with me. I’m not worth the risk.
Razvik goes silent now, words unable to be drawn from perforated lungs. He quivers and shakes, more an involuntary seizure than anything intentional, his body unable to sustain itself amid the massive and systemic trauma I’ve inflicted on it. With a final crash I slam the lid into the amorphous bag of pulped flesh and splintered bone that is his chest, shattering my improvised weapon on the tile floor beneath.
I rise to my feet, covered in blood that’s not my own and panting from the exertion. I look out, and the faces that meet mine turn away, cowed by the grisly display of dominance. None would be willing to risk an open confrontation with me. Not anymore.
“Ganjeem?” I ask, scanning the herd of onlookers for the figure of the scared little Gojid that had started it all, “Are you ok?”
He looks at me, more fear and terror on his face than even Razvik had instilled in him. He runs away the moment my eyes meet his, screaming. I may have saved him, but in his view I had become the thing all good prey fear most, a wild predator. A monster devoid of empathy or mercy. Just another chained beast aboard the Penitent Fleet, just one more weapon in the Commander's arsenal, no different than any other. I had succeeded in my goals, wildly and beyond all expectations. The ceaseless bullying, the endless torment would stop. I am untouchable, and I am completely, utterly, alone…
Memory transcription interrupted…Fragmentation increasing…Related transcription file located…Beginning playback…
Memory transcription subject: Brykin, VSC Penitent Fleet Commander
Date [standardised human time]: August 18th, 2123
“Commander, please,” one of the new administrative overseers sees fit to voice her uneducated and unwanted opinion as I watch the live camera feed, “this has gone too far. One of the children is dead, a second is dying, and the third may never be able to fly again! This is unconscionable! It’s sickening! We need to stop this! We never should have let it get this far! We knew that Cadet Razvik was a particularly unstable individual and that he was terrorising the other penitents, but we still didn’t do anything, and now look at what's happened!”
“Of course he was unstable,” I answer tactfully, “they all are. Don’t allow appearances to deceive you. Every one of these cadets has been selected on the basis of their predatory nature and their potential for killing. None of them should be considered anything even close to an actual child. They are simply predators disguised as such, and it is our responsibility to ensure we make the best use of them that we can.”
“We’re not going to get any use out of them if they all wind up killing each other!” The fledgling overseer refuses to see reason and drop the issue, but then again, I suppose not everyone can be so enlightened as myself.
“They are simply predators being predators.” I answer patiently, hoping to guide and nurture understanding in our new hire. “Culling their own packs of the weak is how they develop and grow. It’s an expected part of the process. Cadet Razvik may have been a promising candidate, but in the end he proved himself to be insufficient. In his death, at least, he serves to strengthen those that remain. In this program there’s never any guarantee that the cadets we’re given will be moulded into good soldiers, but with any luck we may still be able to salvage something useful out of this batch. There’s almost always at least one in the bunch…”
I look back to the screen, watching as Cadet Trilvri exits the room, the rest of his class parting ways to make room for his departure.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N - Hello all! Well that was certainly a rather dark chapter wasn’t it? I do hope you’ve enjoyed this glimpse into Trilvri’s early days as a cadet in the Penitents and witnessing his very first kill. As a fun fact for you guys, this chapter was partly inspired by Ender Wiggins killing of Stilson in Ender's Game. The song for this chapter is, rather appropriately, Children of the Grave by Black Sabbath and try as Trilvri might to make a better world the Penitents remain Children of the Grave. As a second “Fun Fact” there is actually a second song I was considering for this chapter, First Blood by First Blood, which also seems rather fitting. In the end though I decided Children of the Grave just fit the overall story better.
If you like the story then please remember to upvote, comment, and use the “!Subscribeme” function to be alerted to all new posts. I post as often as I can but real life has a tendency of getting in the way and my job makes it almost impossible to keep to any kind of schedule. Your engagement and support go a long way towards helping to keep me on track and motivated, so thank you very much for reading and I hope you'll stay tuned for next chapter!

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"Hoda, I'm with you, but there's no way in hell Keith is signing off on that. If it was Earth maybe we could pull that off. But here? Not a chance in hell," I was shaking my head.
She did not like being put off, but she also knew I understood Keith better. Marila, however, did not cede the point, "And what does Earth have that this planet does not?"
Oh God, right, we're the most advanced species in the game, "On Earth Keith would have near limitless distractions. I mean, in Portland, he could go to a bar, a mead hall, or go shoot pool- that's an Earth game centered around a pool table, no water is involved- the point is there's a ton of things he could do, like binge-watching a show or.... Give me a minute. Ravazh'Tik!"
I held down the green button, and the Game Master appeared on screen. He had his interview face on, but it was clear it was getting late, "What is it, Survivor Valerie?"
"I want to make a deal, Game Master. Right now, there's only so much audience retention you can be getting because of the storm, right? I have an idea for a fix," I was smiling more genuinely now... I get why Keith enjoys these moments so much.
Ravazh'Tik pretty much knew he wouldn't like the next bit, but cameras were on, "And how is that you would accomplish that?"
"You remember when we had our movie night?"
He was a little surprised since the request seemed far more benign than these things went with Keith, "I do remember it, and it did entertain our home audiences. You wish to do another one? I worry that we might exhaust your Earth movies."
I cracked laughing, "We literally make hundreds if not thousands of movies every year, and that leaves out all of our television shows, sports shows, and other entertainment media."
His mouth went a little agape, and then he checked with a display unit to his side to confirm that I wasn't lying to him or inflating the numbers, "Emperor be merciful! How do you all even have the time for this much?"
"Oh, individually we don't but as a species? We've done a lot. We could run every program with no repeats 24/7 and still be showing you new shows in a decade. Anyway, that's what I wanted to ask about, is if we could have a device to show Earth movies and shows on? If it's asking too much I get that, but I figure it's gotta be more entertaining than a week of us sitting around in our yurts not doing very much."
The only question Ravazh'Tik really had after that was what an appropriate device for this would look like, and we talked about that for a while. People were starting to return to their home yurts, but not hurriedly. Hoda got up to go check on Keith while I finished up with Ravazh'Tik and passed out hot broth for everyone since no one was quite okay after the whole thing.
Eventually, I was mostly by myself and headed back to the yurt. Sigh... I would need to clean in here. It had been pretty packed so things were all off.... snrk.
I laughed reactionarily, I couldn't help it. As I stepped into the center of the room, the scene was priceless. A very confused Hoda was stammering out, "I-I'm sorry. It's not..... Ugh... It is not what it looks like."
She was unsuccessfully trying to extract herself from the bed with an unconscious Keith who'd turned her into a body pillow, without reinjuring his shoulder or ribs. Keith was dead to the world, fully crashed out after more than two days of labor, both physical and emotional. Nothing shy of a tazer was going to get him out of that bed. I walked over to help Hoda out... and then... that little voice in my head, The Cheerleader of My Worst Impulses, the one I had put on indefinite suspension since my sophomore year of college? Her suspension was over, and she spoke up, "Y'know what would be really funny?"
I decided to have some fun with it. I mean, why not? It's gonna be awesome whenever he wakes up from this. So, changing tactics, I tucked them in with a blanket, kissed first Keith on the head, then Hoda, and walked off with the spare hammock, "Night you two."
******************************
I came... awake's the wrong term here. I was conscious, but I felt drunk... or hungover? Well, no headache, so I'll rule out hangover, but... must be at least mid-mornin' out there? It was kinda hard to tell, since the only view I had was the few light breaks between the shelter's pillars. I threw on Privacy Mode, just needing a minute to get my bearings as everything from last night caught up. I'd finished up my 'set', but I'd paid the price on it. I'd felt everything, going back through the memories and the emotions, but now in my mind, I felt them. I felt Azzocu's comfort when I'd seen... when I watched my dad die. I felt Trayg beside me when I was alone in boot. All of them had stepped in, lending my mind the support it needed to deal with being me, filling in the cracks in my central foundation. Even Val, here... wait, no, not Val. It was pretty dark, but Val snores. I felt around where I could feel a face, "Hoda?!"
She jostled, coming awake quickly, "You are awake."
"Um, I have questions!" I was trying to find a simple way to extract myself, when Hoda rolled onto her back, pinning my one good arm under her. Clearly, she was not ready for me to exit the bed.
I couldn't see her face, but I could feel the grin, "You said something last night the translators could not decipher and pulled me into bed with you. You were asleep before I could get out."
"Oh... Oh God, Val!"
She didn't shift to let me up, catching hold of my shirt, "Val already knows. She saw it, laughed at me, and then covered us with a blanket. She kissed us both on the head like children, and informed me it was night. Stay."
It was the last point that got me. I was pretty used to.... no, I was too used to people having a very take it or leave it attitude with me, more than willing to walk away at any given point. I settled back in and stayed there with Hoda until my stomach informed me I desperately needed to eat, "Don't get me wrong, hon, but I'm kinda starvin'."
Hoda got herself up, "Then we eat."
I got up as well, staggered a little bit as I came upright and ended up steadying myself on Hoda's shoulder. Then I stepped, and immediately hit something with my shin, "Motherfucker!"
I felt around, and one of the smaller tables had been moved over to sit next to the bed. On it I could feel multiple items, one of which was my phone. It was still running, and I kicked on the flashlight. Hoda was interested, "Your music device gives light."
"Yeah, it's more of a communication device, but we ain't got the stuff to use it for that. Still useful as hell. though... wait, is that a remote?"
I picked up the device, along with a 'note' written on one of the planks we used for writing stuff down. It read: Press the button on the remote.
Having no reason not to, I pressed it, and a holo device attached to the table kicked on, displaying a pretty decent-sized screen. As I read what was on there, it was like a file folder system on Earth, if arranged differently, and it had movies, shows, even sports on it, "Holy shit."
The remote controlled it more less like it would on Earth. I mean, the interface had a bit to be desired, but it was there and I could get used to it. It was great and all, but I really needed food, a shower, and to talk with Val, so I turned it off and we headed out the door. The light took adjusting too, overcast as it was, and I had to hold onto Hoda as we moved in the direction of the kitchen... okay, when did we get a smoke pad?
Hoda deposited me into a seat by the campfire, then strode up into the kitchen, kissing the side of Val's head. Okay, I've missed several conversations, but I wasn't going to get time to catch up as Ducky bounced up with a bunch of questions for me about Earth stuff. Eventually, Hoda brought me... a late lunch or early dinner if I was reading the sky right. I had to have been out for at least fifteen or sixteen hours by this point, "Shit! I'm behind on daywork."
"You are not. We are taking care of it. You will to eat," Hoda was always direct, and took her own meal and a seat.
"Can I at least ask where Prodigal and Hearth are? I haven't seen them since I woke up, and I don't feel their minds checking in," I didn't remember what happened by the end of things.
Hoda bit into a hunk of the cougar meat, "They are up mountain. Val says they are... budding right now, and not to be disturbed. Now, eat."
Seeing there was no arguing with her, I went ahead and ate my oversized lunch of cougar meat, yams, and a mixture of vegetables. There was even a form of gravy, and a potato roll. Somewhere in the day, Marila had gotten a project going on grinding potato flour. Across from me, Rognar was building another chair, using the nanofabric to create what was effectively a beach lounger with a wicker frame, and the smoking club were coming in to relax before dinner got served.
The conversation with Val got put off repeatedly as I started to see what was happening. Everyone was coming over to talk to me, see how I was doing, and see if I needed anything. I was getting claustrophobic with it, I admit that, but I needed away from people for a bit and excused myself to the showers. It gave me time to think, and I did remember something from before the night had begun. I decided to take some extra time at the lavatory with Privacy Mode up. I wouldn't have long with it, but enough time to check something.
There was a non-zero percent chance I was about to embarrass myself, but I took the shot, and with Privacy Mode engaged, hit the green button. The screen popped up like it usually did, but there was no video call. Instead, it had some text in the middle that I'm guessin' was Kathrall, "Fuck, well I suppose it was too much to think they'd have it in English."
After I said the word English, a new window appeared on the screen, with it's own text. The first bit was still in Kathrall, but it was repeated under it in English: Change text to English?
"Fuck."
It wasn't programmed naturally for English, but the nanties translated everything to English. A new message came up, in both languages: Response not understood. Change text to English?
"Yes."
At first nothing happened aside from the window going away, and then the screen rewrote itself, and I could read it. We had translators, it was part of the whole thing so we could potentially talk with each other. The things that didn't translate would be icons, so a combination of verbal and tactile inputs? Let's take it for a spin, "Open settings menu."
It did respond, the response was just not helpful: Please input passcode. With what appeared to be something like a weirdly arranged numberpad, just... these weren't number or letters, but some sort of symbol the Kathrall understood. I had only a tiny amount of time left on Privacy, so I just pressed the buttons at random. When I hit the fifth one, the system came back with a message informing me that I'd entered the wrong one, and to try again. Holy shit, holy shit.
I got up from the toilet, sealed my suit, and double-timed it out. Looking around, everyone was here, but I needed.... Marila. Without Privacy Mode, I had to be careful, and whispered the instructions in her ear. She politely got up, excusing herself, and gave me the slightest of nods as she went off in the direction of the lavatory. If we could break into the system, there might be a way for us to do various things, not least of which was find a way to get in contact with Earth on a back channel.
Helping with Marila's attempts would require a bit of a distraction, and thankfully there was a perfect one all ready to go in talking with Val. I tried a few times at helping out, only to keep getting directed back to my seat by the fire where I could relax. I could feel an energy building up in me, but I had no way to let it off. Finally, I went back into my yurt, and admitted defeat. I sorted through the menus, and brought up an old favorite series, Next Generation.
Val was the first to come join me, grabbing a seat beside me on the bed, "So, I see we're willing to concede finally?"
I sighed sharply, "Yeah, and I get it, I needed to ease off, it's just hard's all. Look, 'bout Hoda-"
Val held up a hand, "Let's get through this as quickly as I can: I'm good with it. I like Hoda too, like like, and it's not like we're exclusive or anything. You probably thought it was me last night since you were falling over by the time they got you to the bed. You didn't do anything wrong, and we're good. Now, wait, which one is Captain Kirk?"
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"After the Meltdown" (Part 3/Conclusion of a series of short stories)
by P. Orin Zack
 
“The Phoenix Narrative” (Story 6 of 7)
[11/11/2011]
 
As Beth coasted down a curving stretch of Arizona 95, she gently squeezed the handgrips on her bicycle, engaging the home-built regenerating brakes. She hesitated briefly, smiled, and leaned into a right turn onto Parker Dam Road.
A few years earlier, before the economy cratered and governments around the world fell apart, she might have driven the ninety-miles back from Lingman without a second thought. Even now, with gasoline so hard to come by, she’d made the trip out in an afternoon, thanks to the damaged baby steam engine rattling around in her saddle basket. But the ride back had taken considerably longer because Norwyn Rosset, the cretin she’d gone to thank for his part in bringing the world to its knees, had kicked the overtaxed machine from it’s mountings after it succumbed to the stress of pushing them both up a hill.
Parker Dam had been a touchstone to her even before she’d moved to Parker to escape the rat race her engineering degree had sucked her into. Towards the end of the corporatists’ reign, new hires out of school were like a drug to penny-pinching managers eager to consign their senior, and more expensive, employees to the growing ranks of the unemployed. But like many of her cohort, she’d taken strength from the global Occupation movement and chose to strike out on her own rather than help her moneyed masters further drive down the value of human labor.
After parking her bike on the untraveled roadway high atop the curving concrete dam, Beth turned her back to Lake Havasu and drifted towards the southern railing. She took a deep breath, and cast the anger she’d worked up against Rosset to the gentle breeze, imagining it drifting down over the Colorado River, where it was absorbed and cleansed by the flowing water. Then her gaze lifted, across the rocky horizon, and up into the early evening sky. She smiled as she envisioned herself soaring low over the river, down past Lake Moovalva and Headgate Rock Dam in the steam-powered ultralight of her imagination.
“Someday,” she told the river, “I’m going to skim your length not much higher than this. Someday.” But first, she reminded herself, she needed to get back to Parker. Dusk was falling, and she knew that pedal-powered headlights were neither as dependable nor as bright as steam-powered ones.
Rather than returning to Arizona 95, she continued across the dam and rode the last leg home on the California side of the river. But before re-crossing to Parker, she stopped at a bakery she favored to pick up a treat for Peter.
“Elspeth!” chirped the craggy proprietress as she opened the door. “I didn’t hear the unmistakable sound of your handiwork. Something wrong with your steamer?”
She nodded and glanced back towards her bike. “Yeah, Roz. That jerk I tracked down in Lingman kicked it free after it gave out on the way back here.”
“I trust you didn’t cart him the rest of the way home, then.”
“No. Last I saw him, he’d taken my bike and was trying to pedal it back to civilization. Didn’t make it, though. Well, at least I don’t think he did. In any case, he took my pistol before ditching the bike and setting out cross-country on foot.”
“You think he might’ve shot himself?”
“Not likely. I still have the bullet.”
Roz grabbed a small sack and started to fill it with scones. “That’s too bad. Weren’t you planning to barter it for something?”
“Yeah. But I’ll be okay. The repair shop’s doing better, now that Peter’s helping out. Which reminds me, that’s what I stopped in for, to get a treat for him. I hadn’t expected to go missing for this long.”
She made a face when Beth held out some money. “Put those Angels back, dear. The treats are on me this time.”
It was nearly closing time when Beth rolled up in front of her repair shop, but the lights were still on, and she could hear her protégé arguing with someone inside.
“You heard me, kid,” the customer thundered, “I don’t want any of those stinking Phoenix notes. Give me my change in L.A. Angels or I swear to God I’ll torch this place!”
Beth grabbed the scones and opened the door.
“Elspeth!” Peter said, surprised.
The customer wheeled to face her. “Where the hell have you been? I came to pick up my cultivator and this idiot here tried to make change with defective money.” He waved the notes at her and slammed them on the counter. “These!”
Beth put her bag down and glanced at the contested money. They were the colorful Phoenix notes that she’d gotten from some customers passing through on their way to the coast. “Look, Frank,” she said, “if you’re happier with money starring dead actors and designed by a convicted counterfeiter, fine. I think I’ve got enough here to cover your change. But please, don’t take your anger out on Peter. He is the one who repaired your John Deere knock-off, after all.”
Frank snatched the bills out of her hand and glared angrily at the teenager. “Fine. But don’t expect me to come back any time soon. Next time I need something fixed, I’ll take it to an American patriot, not some goddam Indian scam artist!”
Peter winced at the remark, but held his peace as Frank stormed out into the night. When he turned to look at Beth, she was grinning happily and offering him a scone. “Thanks,” he said, taking it. “You were gone a long time. Did you run into some kind of trouble in Lingman?”
She nodded, and picked up one of the Phoenix notes that Frank had refused. “It was worth it, though. Before that jerk made off with my bike, he told me about a scheme he’d heard about for keeping money in circulation. Of course, from his perspective, that was a horrible thing to do, because his kind would rather hoard it. But I do know why the background pattern on these things faded.”
“Oh?”
“Mmm-hmm. The cagey folks in Phoenix printed their money with a number of different ink blends, each one crafted to fade after a different period of time. According to Rosset, as each component of the design fades, the exchange value drops.”
Peter touched the faded screening beside the heavily saturated phoenix design. “By how much?”
“That was the last bit he heard about before the big telecoms went bust and their networks shut down. These bills have already lost ten percent of their value. When the phoenix loses its tail, they’ll fall to three-quarters of the face value, and so on.”
Peter touched the printed phoenix’s tail and checked for ink marks. “Clever. But what’s the point?”
“When you’re paid with this kind of money, what you’re supposed to do is take it to the bank. They exchange it for fresh, unfaded bills. The ones that are turned in are then stripped and reprinted for the next go-round. So the only people who need to worry are the ones who sit on their cash instead of spending it, and you can tell who they are because the money gives them away.”
He took another bite of scone. “So how did they end up in Parker?”
“Travelers,” Beth said as she counted the till. “Some people from Phoenix came through town a few months ago. They needed supplies and repairs, and this was what they had for money. Of course, they didn’t bother to tell me about the little trick they do.”
“Dollars must be pretty much worthless everywhere by now, I guess.”
“Well, sure. There’s nothing to back them up any more. Not like the L.A. Angels, which are based on the value of an hour’s labor, or the Phoenix notes, which are based on the value of a standard basket of locally grown food. But it does present us with a problem.”
He looked up. “Oh?”
“Mmm-hmm. Do we honor the narrative that adjusts the value of a Phoenix, or do we continue to accept it at face value?”
Peter raised his eyebrows. “Frank didn’t want to do either one.”
“I know. And that’s why we need to call a town meeting.”
 
+---+---+
 
“Okay, okay!” the facilitator shrilled, her hands spread for order. “The only way we’re going to make any sense out of this is if we give one another a chance to speak.” It had taken a few days to get the town meeting scheduled, but only a few moments for it to succumb to chaos. “Elspeth,” she said calmly, “you requested this meeting, and it appears that you’re the only one with an explanation for what’s happening to the money from Phoenix.”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“Hearsay,” someone shouted from across the room. “Where’s your proof?”
Peter hopped onto a chair and was about to yell back when Beth tapped him on the leg and he relented.
The facilitator shot the man a dirty look before continuing. “That’s as good a place to start as any, I guess,” she said amiably. “Beth?”
“It’s like this,” she said, “I spoke to a man named Norwyn Rosset last week in Lingman. He’s one of the people responsible for the fall of the Dollar, and with it, the US government. I’d gotten a lead on his whereabouts from the folks that came through from Phoenix a few months back. It seems that Rosset had been hiding out in Lingman, but then he got stranded when the few people still living there ditched town on him.”
“Then let him speak!” someone called out.
“Yeah,” another voice chimed in, “where’s Rosset?”
Beth shook her head in frustration. “He’s not here. I tried to bring him back with me, but he stole my bike and disappeared. I found it later, but he’d taken my gun and set off on foot.”
“So what you’re saying,” the facilitator said, “is that you’re our sole source for this explanation, barring other visitors from Phoenix. Is that correct?”
“I’m afraid so, yes.”
“In that case,” the founder of the local credit union said, “all we can do is judge Beth’s explanation on its merits, since we don’t have anything official to back it up. The way I see it, we’ve got three choices. One, we decide to not recognize Phoenix money at all here, two, we accept Elspeth’s explanation and let these notes devalue themselves to nothing, or three, we ignore the explanation and use them at their face vale.”
“Rubbish,” a voice rumbled. “All we need to do is send someone to Phoenix. Then we’ll know whether this cockamamie scheme holds any water.” It was the grossly overweight bully who had been the branch manager of a now-defunct bank.
“Great idea, Tom,” Beth shot back. “You hobble right over there, and we’ll just not spend any Phoenix money until you return.”
The raucous laughter that followed was cut short by a resounding crash as the double doors burst open and the young tech who’d set up the town’s open-source cell towers rushed in clutching a phone. “It’s fire and rescue,” he said breathlessly, eyes wide. “Roz’s bakery’s in flames and she’s trapped inside.”
“Oh my god!” Beth breathed, color draining from her face. “Frank.”
“What?”
“Francis Stoneway. He threatened to burn down my shop when Peter offered him Phoenix money as change. Those travelers stopped at Roz’s, too, and Frank likes donuts!”
The young man held up a finger while listening intently to the phone. “They’re going in after her,” he said, glancing around the crowd. Then he winced, and asked the caller, “what was that?”
The crowd drew closer. A few people clasped hands.
He swallowed, and lowered the phone. “They were… they were just inside when the roof fell on her.”
Beth collapsed into a chair and cried.
Several people conferred with the tech for a few minutes. He made calls to some of the other working groups, passing instructions from those present. Even though Parker no longer had a formal police force, Frank would nevertheless be found and brought in for questioning.
“Okay people,” the facilitator said a few minutes later, “we still have to decide what to do about the Phoenix money that‘s circulating here in Parker.” She paused for a moment and glanced nervously around the room. “Even if Frank wasn’t responsible for that fire, he, or someone else who refuses to accept the Phoenix money, might do something stupid.”
“Damn right,” Tom shouted. “I say we just refuse to honor the crap!”
“Do you,” Beth asked sarcastically, rising to her feet. “So tell me, exactly how much Phoenix money have you accepted?”
“Not one bit. I know real money when I see it.”
“That’s a laugh,” she said, pulling an Angel out of her wallet and holding it up. “And what exactly makes these things real for you? Is it the pictures of dead actors, or the fact that they were designed by a convicted counterfeiter?”
“What’s important,” he said angrily, “is that it’s backed by gold.”
“Gold? Can’t you even read? It says right on the back that Angels embody the hard work and good faith of the people who labor for the betterment of Los Angeles.“
“I think we’re getting sidetracked here,” the facilitator said. “It’s ludicrous to argue about which city’s money is real and which one isn’t. What makes any money real is people’s willingness to use it. Our problem is what to do about the fact that at least one person here in Parker is in violent opposition to using it.”
“Excuse me,” Peter said tentatively, “can I say something?”
“Sure.”
“Well, it seems to me that if the people in Parker refuse to accept the Phoenix money, we’d be alienating an awful lot of people who ought to be our allies.”
“Allies?” Tom shot back. “What the hell do we need them for?”
“Well, for one thing,” someone replied, “they buy a lot of what we make here.”
“Besides,” Peter went on, “if we accept the money but reject the explanation for the fading ink, there’s no reason for us to accept the labor conversion for Angels either. The only way we can survive as a community is if we agree on some common principles. I say we accept the Phoenix narrative, and talk with the people there about setting up a printing operation in Parker so we can refresh any of their money that’s spent here, and extend the territory where it’s accepted.”
Beth looked at him agape. “I thought you came to work for me because you wanted to build things. And now you want to be a banker?”
“Of course not,” he laughed. “What I want to do is build the printing press.”
 
THE END
 
"Steam Cycle" (Story 7 of 7)
[12/2/2011]
 
Peter Epas gazed blankly at the desert horizon while the sunbaked highway rolled back unnoticed beneath him. The mental schematics he’d busied himself with for the first few hours of the trip had given way to the hypnotic interplay of rubber against deteriorating pavement and the steady whine of the bike’s low-slung steam engine. His sightline had just drifted down to the leading tip of his shadow when the screech of a raptor overhead startled him back to wobble-wheeled alertness.
It had been first light when he headed south out of Parker that morning. Elspeth, the mechanical engineer he apprenticed under, had topped off her bike’s biopropane canister at the repair shop last night after locking up.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” she’d asked while tightening the engine mounts for the umpteenth time.
A wordless glance was all the reply he gave. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from you,” he added a few beats later, “it’s to never second-guess myself.”
Rising, she opened the cash drawer and counted out two piles of bills. The first, which sported heavily saturated pictures of dead actors, were Angels, the money issued in Los Angeles after the Dollar cratered. The oddly faded notes in the second pile were from Phoenix, and they were the reason he was headed there.
Peter thought about that second pile as he rolled on through the dusty afternoon, and wondered how the people behind them would react to his proposal. “When we first encountered your money,” he told a hypothetical banker, “it hadn’t yet started to fade. As far as we knew, it was no different from the Angels that filtered in after the Dollar crapped out.”
He frowned. “All right. How about this…” But his thoughts were abruptly shattered when the bike lurched from the impact of a wall of air at his back.
Struggling to regain his balance, he glanced over his shoulder at the noisy truck overtaking him, and, heart racing, he swerved onto the shoulder to give it a wide berth. When it swept past, he winced at the acrid smell of its exhaust.
“Yuck!” he yelled between coughs. “What kind of crap are you burning, anyway?”
As the truck dwindled ahead and he drifted back towards the center of the roadway, he ticked off a hypothetical repair order. With quality diesel being increasingly hard to come by, he figured the trucker had his rig converted to run on whatever was available, but whoever had done it was a hack. Of far more interest to Peter, however, was the fact that none of the cars and trucks he’d seen all day had the signature whine of the breed of engine powering his bike, and that brought him back to the morning’s schematics.
As engaging as that was, however, a more visceral matter soon began gnawing at his stomach, so he pulled off at the next exit to prowl for food. Back home in Parker, the majority of the restaurants he’d known as a child had closed for one of two reasons. Either their corporate supply chains had snapped, or the people who ran them left town in search of a less fragile lifestyle. Reading the epithet left on the signboard of one reminded him of Elspeth’s recent musing that the crash had forced the economy into an odd rebalancing that favored mid-size cities with food processing industries over both Metropolis and Mayberry. He rode dispiritedly past several more shuttered fast food shops before spotting the lit interior of an independent restaurant called Nate’s. He banked into the parking lot, and rolled into a spot just outside the front window. After shutting the valve on the fuel canister, he set the kickstand, unstrapped his pack from the rear fender mount, and strode towards the door.
While Peter was reaching for the handle, two men at a front table turned to look at the bike. One of them, a swarthy man in a blue work shirt, rose and started towards the door. “Hey kid!”
Unaware that he was being addressed, Peter smilingly approached the young woman behind the counter. He had just opened his mouth when she nodded towards the man crossing the floor towards them. “Is that your party?”
“My…?”
“I’m going to go out on a limb here,” the man said, extending a hand in greeting, “and guess that you’re new in town. Welcome to Phoenix. The name’s Enrique Perez. Can I buy you a drink?”
Peter glanced back at the woman. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding, “Enrique’s a regular. I think it’s your ride he’s after, though.”
“My…?”
Enrique nodded pleasantly. “She’s right. What kind of engine is that, anyway? I’ve never heard anything like it.”
“I’m not surprised,” Peter said as they reached the table, and he set his pack down. “It’s a variation on the Schoell cycle. They were only just breaking into the market when everything fell apart.”
“A what?” Enrique’s tablemate asked, the glow of intense curiosity animating the lean man’s deeply lined face.
“Oh, sorry. This is Armand. He’s a business associate.”
“Glad to meet you, sir. I’m Peter Epas. My bike is powered by a propane-powered closed-cycle steam engine. Just the thing for cruising the desert.”
“Speaking of deserts, how about that drink I offered you? What would you like? Nate’s carbonates their homegrown Arizona goji juice. Pretty good stuff.”
Peter glanced back at the cashier, who raised a glass of the red soda and grinned. “Okay,” he said, reaching for his wallet, “but I really would prefer to buy my own—.”
“And you will, just not with money,” Enrique said, signaling the cashier for a glass. “Like I said, I’m interested in that bike engine of yours.”
“All right, all right. What do you want to know?”
“Well, for one thing, where’d you get it?”
“Get it? “ Peter said defensively. “That steam-spinner’s a custom job… my boss’s design. It’s, uh, hers, actually. We built it in her shop, back in Parker.”
“I see,” Armand said slowly, crossing his arms. “And how much do you know about its construction?”
“Well, technically, I’m still her apprentice, but—.”
“I appreciate your modesty, Peter, but what I really want to know is whether you can build one yourself, here in Phoenix, given the right supplies and equipment.”
Enrique gave his associate a quizzical look.
“I could,” Peter said, lost in thought. “I mean, yes, sir. I believe I could build another engine like that. Well, assuming you could provide the tools and all. I don’t have enough money to buy—.”
“Hey!” A balding man at the table behind Armand suddenly shouted, slamming his glass on the table.
Peter followed the man’s sightline through the window, to his bike, where a guy in a dark hoodie was fingering the bright red engine.
“Christ, Silver,” baldy said, rising, “don’t you ever give up?” His chair tipped backward, but was caught by a passing waitress.
Baldy was halfway to the door by the time Peter got to his feet. By then, Silver had flipped the kickstand up and set his foot on the near pedal. Enrique trailed Peter through the door, while Armand and some other patrons turned to watch.
Silver pedaled hard while struggling against the bike’s unfamiliar heft. He glanced over his shoulder just as baldy cleared the walkway, with Peter a second behind.
“Stop!” Peter screamed.
The two men exchanged glances as they raced towards the accelerating bike. But just as they were about to catch it, Silver found his balance, switched gears, swerved onto the road, and sped away.
“Damn!” Peter said, catching his breath, “Elspeth’s going to kill me.”
“And I’m going to kill Larry Silver,” baldy said as he came up beside him, “if I ever catch him again.”
“You know who he is, then?”
“Hard not to. That cretin’s been stealing any new tech that comes into town for a while now. Works for a local cartel that’s itching to push out the leadership of the Citizen’s Board. I’m Fred Larson, by the way. I think you’ll want to join the SO, the Social Order working group, and help us get your bike back.”
“Thanks, Fred. Oh, I’m Peter Epas. Is that working group the Phoenix area police force?”
“It’s not that formal,” Enrique said, joining them. “The SO is a collaborative effort. You’ve just been robbed, so you’re welcome to join the team that does something about it. It’s expected, really, a citizen’s duty.”
As the three men approached the entrance, Peter noticed that Fred’s table had been slid up against Enrique’s, and the woman who’d greeted him earlier was distributing pens and paper. “What’s all that about?”
“Standard procedure,” Larson said, holding the door open for the others. “The first thing the SO does is collect what everyone knows about the incident. Like your friend here said, it’s a collaborative effort.”
Peter grinned as he took his seat. “And it’s a lot faster than old-style police methods, from what I hear. You folks are even faster than the group who do this sort of thing back in Parker. How do we proceed?”
“Well, for starters,” Larson said, taking his seat, “I think we ought to find out more about that bike of yours.”
“It’s… not mine, really. Elspeth loaned it to me for this trip.”
“Must have been important to her,” Armand said. “What did you come all this way for, anyway?”
“To speak with a banker,” Peter said. He pulled out the Phoenix notes and laid them on the table. “We got these a while back, and they’ve started to fade.”
“So they have. In fact, it looks like they’re about to lose some tail-feathers. That’ll drop them to seventy-five percent of face value. It’s high time these notes were refreshed. I can see the urgency of your visit.”
“You don’t understand. It’s kind of a long way to go just to keep the money from devaluing. I came here to ask about opening a branch in Parker so we could refresh them locally. But that’s not important right now. I’ve really got to get my boss’s bike back.”
“Yes, the bike,” Larson said. “Or more to the point, that engine. I doubt Larry Silver has a clue what he’s stolen. But if he figures out how to start it up, how far could he get?”
“And how fast?” Enrique added. “Someone might have to chase him.”
“It can’t outrun a car the way it’s geared right now, if that’s what you’re worried about. And the fuel canister’s nearly empty. Well, the one that’s mounted, anyway. I have a spare in my pack for the return trip.”
“Good,” Larson said. “And that brings us to the reason I think Larry was interested in your bike, the technology in that engine.”
“You said it was a Schoell cycle?” Armand asked.
“A variation, but yeah. My boss used it as her starting point because it’s closed cycle, so you don’t have to top the water off all the time. But she made some improvements to the cooling system. That engine can run quite a bit hotter than the original design, assuming the rest of the engine can take the stress.”
“Mmm-hmm. Then I suspect it could be scaled up for heavier duty use. There’s clearly a lot of money to be made with that. If it can be replicated.”
Larson shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to see the cartel that Silver reports to get their hands on a hopped-up version of that thing. We’d never catch them. Good. I think we have enough to go on, now. So, Peter, will you be joining the SO team to find that creep and get it back?”
“Of course. But I also need to speak with the people who print up your Phoenix notes, and see if they’ll let me open a refresh shop in Parker.”
“Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” Armond said, chuckling.
“Why not?”
“I’m an investor. I staked them for their startup costs. Trust me, you’re a shoo-in.”
 
THE END
Copyright 20011 by P. Orin Zack

Hacking, Cyberstalking, Invasion of Privacy, Electronic Harassment, Identity Theft & Identity Fraud: Compromising of My Digital Identity, Vandalism/Mischief towards my Devices & Files, Targeted Energy Weapons and Attacks, V2k Inner Ear Implants, Psychotronic Abuse, & Brain-Computer Interface, Synthetic Telepathy, & Remote Neural Monitoring, Aggravated Assaults, 7 Months of Death Threats, and Multiple Attempts at Murder
No police help is forthcoming & the medical system has let me down by refusing to provide help and dismissing my complaint as unworthy of affirming and at times by outright denying the claims I have in my complaints (by holding a complaint to be false), only to be rejected the by the police.
My cyber-gangstalkers are going to kill me and have been carrying out dehumanizing assaults “targeted energy attacks” that could have killed me using V2k ear implants, that they have placed inside my ears, and they say they won’t stop until I am dead! My situation vis-a-vis the hackers has been escalating; the hackers have been intensifying their targeted energy attacks against my physical body remotely by the use of technology that they have implanted into my ears for the sole purpose of turning my life into a tournament of torture games that only such depraved evil immoral cybercriminal sadists could devise. My former neighbours have confessed to breaking into my home and placing microchip implants inside my ears with which to neurally monitor me and to establish voice to skull communication, whereby they been their voices are beamed via light waves directly to my head via electromagnetic radiation in the microwave spectrum, these ear implants that they have placed inside my ears can, and are used by the hackers to target any part of my body that they wish to target.
They have overheated and burnt my eyes: they have shot high-power beams of light and lasers into my eyes so that my vision impairs. They have burnt the insides of my ears in order to inflict me with excruciating pain, as well as to impair my hearing they’ve compressed, crushed, burnt my testicles, causing them to recede inwards into my body. They have burnt my testicles, causing sperm to cook inside my testicles, which is why I can no longer ejaculate sperm in that I have been forcibly castrated and contracepted against my will, and my most fervent wishes thereby that have made me infertile: no longer able to have offspring, thanks to their very frequent and periodically recurring assaults on my testicles via harmful forms of radiation microwaves, pulse light, and lasers.
On December 25, 2023 the hackers almost deafened me by attacking my the insides of my ears, bringing me to the verge of my eardrums rupturing. The hackers are malicious malevolent and extremely bigoted cyber bullies and terrorists who subject me to domestic terrorism. My former neighbours are hackers of my devices of over 2 years, who have been experimenting their bio-electromagnetic weaponry on a human subject, myself, against my will amounting to both physical and mental torture and constituting human rights violations for about three previous months the hackers have been frequently and almost un-intermittently targeting my ears and my throat. They had threatened to make me deaf and dumb before: that is, unable to hear and speak, and now they’re carrying out such attacks that can do so in order to materialize their threats. The hackers have violated the criminal code of Canada in at least 12 sections, including unauthorized use of a computer network, mischief in relation to my property: my devices, including data, my files, identity, theft, identity, fraud, aggravated, assault, altering death threats: threats of other bodily harm, and attempted to murder me on multiple occasions: at least 10 times, the hackers attack my throat, in order to choke me by pressing against my windpipe to torture me by suffocation to instil fear in me that I’ll die the next time they attack me. They attack my throat also to damage my vocal cords: by burning my vocal cords and cutting them with lasers, so I lose my ability to sing and to speak. I am already unable to sing, and if their attacks keep recurring as consistently as they have been in the recent 3 months, I fear that I’ll lose my voice completely and become unable to speak at all.
These verminous lowlifes are evil sadistic psychopaths: they are sociopaths in need of isolation from society and in need of having their internet cut off indefinitely (so they are no longer able to carry out attacks against me or other people remotely by the use of technology. Their hacking activities, cyberbullying, cyber-gangstalking, and assaults via bio-electromagnetic weapons: ie., their V2k (‘voice to skull’) ear implants that they have implanted inside my ears are too fun for them to stop on their own accord. They must be stopped: they can only be stopped by the police or by a judge.
The hackers are malicious, extremely bigoted disgustingly homophobic, hateful, malevolent maleficent/harmful cyber bully thugs (have ill will towards me: wish me harm), who in my estimation deserve to be jailed for no less than 10 years in prison/federal penitentiary for what they have done to me already. Their hacking activities, harassing conduct, and their aggravated assaults have been increasing in occurrence (have been becoming more frequent and accelerating at that! Throughout the past more than 2 years, my former neighbours' relentless cyber-gang stalking campaigns against me have been a destructive influence on my quality of life: their mischief in relation to my property (ie., vandalism) including towards my personal devices including my files started 1.5 years ago, their ‘targeted energy attacks’ started 7 months ago (to the best of my knowledge). They have attacked me with lasers, microwaves, and pulsed light and have already caused me permanent, irreversible, and irreparable harm. They have been threatening to kill me and have made multiple attempts at murdering me already (at least 10). The hackers have been threatening to murder me and have attempted to do so already over 10 times by now.
John Doe 1 = Sarkis ‘yan’ John Doe 2 = Armen ‘yan’ John Doe 3 = _____ Ghukasyan Jane Doe 1 = Armine ‘_yan’ Jane Doe 2 = Hasmik ‘ _yan’
Disclaimer: I do not know – with absolute certainty or beyond a reasonable doubt, for that matter – any of these names to be those of the hackers. I seek for the judge of this court to conduct an investigation, by ….

1. Demanding a complete list of all the occupants of that building when I lived there and when I had knowledge of them hacking me: Jan 2022 --- March 2023.
2. Look for Armenian last names: typically ending in “yan” or “ian”, (“uni” and “unts” much less common)
3. Bring them to court as suspects to be interrogated by either the judge and/or myself.
4. Verify that their voices match the voices of the Armenians whom I have caught on audio tape commenting on my activities on my electronic network devices, which I had taken from my apartment: proving at least for me conclusively that those neighbours of mine in my nearest vicinity who are Armenians must be the hackers. There is nothing racist, ethno-centrist, chauvinist/bigoted, prejudiced/discriminating, or unethical about what I am asking to be done. I am Armenian, the hackers are Armenians too. We live in Edmonton, where from a population of over a 1 million, there are only 620 Armenians living in Edmonton. So I deem it more likely than not to be the case that only 1 or 2 apartments in our building are inhabited by Armenians. Those neighbours of mine who are Armenians are suspects. If it turns out only one apartment is inhabited by Armenians, then we would have found our primary suspects. If there happen to be more than one apartment having been inhabited by Armenians, then the ones closer to me are the suspects. y (personal) files of over 14 years: my documents (word, pdf, and excel), my music, my photos, my videos, etc.

The hackers have attempted to kill me now probably 10 or more times, that I am lucky to have escaped alive and survived. Out of desperation, I am amicably calling parties to court with me — in good faith— purifying my motifs — with only the purest of intentions and in good faith, so that the parties called to court with me might help me by getting these “targeted energy attacks” to stop before it is too late. I
am absolutely convinced that the only way to get my cyberstalkers’ attacks against me to stop is to arrest them, jail them, cut their internet connection: i.e., disallowing them from using the internet indefinitely. As long as I have got their bio-electromagnetic neuro-weapons: i.e., their radioactive microchips, implanted in my body, I am at risk of being subject to their physical abuse and torture while they have access via the internet to the microwave satellites directed at me that they make use of in order to target me with the energy of harmful forms of electromagnetic radiation (i.e., light waves: ex., microwaves, lasers, etc.): “directed/targeted energy attacks”.

1. Criminal Code of Canada (RSC 1985, c C-46): o Under Section 430 (1.1) of the Criminal Code, it is an offense to commit mischief in connection with computer data. The penalties vary based on the severity of the offense: ▪ If the mischief causes actual danger to life, it is considered an indictable offense punishable by imprisonment for life. ▪ If the value of the subject matter of the offense exceeds $5,000, the maximum penalty is 10 years’ imprisonment. ▪ If the value of the subject matter of the offense is under $5,000, the maximum penalty is 2 years’ imprisonment1
   
2. Cyberterrorism: o If the crime is considered a national security offense, an individual could be charged under Section 83.2 of the Criminal Code for cyberterrorism. The maximum penalty for this offense is life imprisonment. In summary, endangering a person’s life through hacking can lead to severe legal consequences in Canada, including the possibility of life imprisonment. The law aims to address cybercriminal threats and protect individuals from malicious activities in the Suspects’ Names and Address of Residence:
   

I have gathered/figured out their names by overhearing them refer to each other by name and thus believe to have their some of their first names and the last name of another, though I am not absolutely confident that these are their actual names; they could merely have referred to each other in my presence with their fake names that they had taken on, however I do not find this more likely than not to be the case: i.e., I figure more likely than not I have got at least some of their names right, though I cannot rule out these names being fake.
There has been an incident of violence already involving my former neighbours: occupants of #2-304, another neighbour of mine from #2-106, and myself (#2-204), with the following police event #23-220826. I went upstairs to confront my cyberstalkers, who I justifiably (for good reasons and evidence) believed to be occupying unit #2-304. The hackers’ voices could be heard from the inside of apartment #2-304 (behind the door). I banged on the door demanding that they open it. Another neighbour of ours exited the apartment and proceeded to attack me and hit me twice in the head. I did not fight back, instead went to my apartment and called the police. Police officers were dispatched who visited us all, therefore there must be police records of the names of the people involved under the EPS event #23-220826. I was instructed by police officers to use this police event number in order to lawfully retrieve through a judge’s order the names of the people in unit #2-304.
he entire time they have been targeting me with microwave light energy. Their radiating my eyes has caused me blurriness, which I have ever since recovered from, but could have remained permanent, had events unfolded differently.
The hackers have been torturing me with bio-electromagnetic weapons: the microchip implants that the hackers have implanted (injected it and/or sprayed) into my inner ear. Their conduct towards me, that is their treatment of me is dehumanizing to the extreme and debasing, denaturing, and degrading. They have electromagnetically and thermally lobotomized me on several occasions, severed my mesolimbic, Even the most bloodthirsty Nazi negative—eugenicists don’t hold a candle to my cyber-stalkers’ gang of bloodthirsty, disgustingly bigoted homophobic cyber-bullying/cyber-stalking thugs, who are psychopaths because these sociopathic agents of harm are sadistic, merciless, and ruthless evil spirits hell-bent on destroying me, everything I have owned, have caused me permanent disfigurement and disability, have incapacitating my body, robbing me of my mental faculties, my emotions, diminishing my psycho-sexual abilities with the aim of extinguishing sexual pleasure from my body, which is permanent, irreversible, and irreparable harm. They have overwhelmingly impaired my hearing, by their use of V2k technology on me and radiating me with pulsed microwave light that imparts energy in the form of heat and mechanical work such as compressing against one’s windpipe, choking a throat, crushing of genitals: penis and testicles.
The hackers have made attempts to rob me of my body’s ability to climax to orgasm. The hackers keep threatening to cause me physical, long lasting, chronic, and/or lifelong harm: disability, illness/disease, disfigurement, then they carry out their threats consistently. They are going to rob me of my ability to feel sexual pleasure: libido, arousal, and orgasm. They are doing their best not to leave any ability to experience sexual pleasure, as they have admitted to me. They have attacked my testicles with such forms of light that overheat, that burn, cool, freeze, expand, contract body tissue, which has caused me permanent and irreversible and irreparable damage to my testicles to the point that they no longer are able to produce testosterone or sperm, which means that I have been made infertile (unable to have offspring) and robbed of my masculinity, manliness, and manhood in general at the age of 35 years, with the other half of my expected lifespan still in front of me, my sex life is ruined. The hackers attack my genitals with the purpose of making me no longer able to masturbate, get an erection, have an orgasm, so that I do not watch (gay) porn ever in my life again and so that I lose my libido (sex-drive), cannot get sexually aroused, and have an orgasm due to lowered testosterone production by my testes (if any at all). The hackers have attacked my brain’s dopaminergic neurotransmitter system; causing a significant flattening of affect, disorder of diminished motivation, causing me to lose my emotionality and blunting of my feelings, etc.
They have violated over 12 sections of the Canadian Criminal Code by committing hacking, mischief in relation to my property: devices including files, identity theft and fraud, psychotronic abuse, electronic harassment, sexual harassment, aggravated assaults, death threats and multiple (at least 10) attempts to murder me, and more… Since December of 2023 till April 2024: 5 months, they have been attacking my throat, vocal cords, and telling me they are going to make me lose my voice, make me unable to sing and even speak. April 25th, 2024: The hackers castrated me, by attacking my genitals: testicles and penis with various kinds of harmful light including pulsed microwave light, causing my penis to redden. The hackers had stripped my penis with the tissues that initiate arousal during masturbation and conduct orgasms. Right after telling me that they are going to rob me of my body’s natural capacity to feel sexual pleasure, they induced severe muscle cramps in my central middle abdomen and lower abdomen, with their expressed intent of depriving me of the ability to climax to orgasm and ejaculate sperm. Fortunately for me they failed this time, I am still able to orgasm however with somewhat less intensity. However, if they keep this up, and repeat their attempt to disable my body’s orgasm function, I will probably gradually lose my ability to derive sexual pleasure until it is diminished away completely; one day I might not be able to orgasm at all, and it’ll most likely stay like that permanently, for the rest of my life, even with the best available medical interventions at our disposal. April 26th, 2024: The hackers had decided to kill me and threatened me in order to make me fear for my life. When I was still their neighbour, the hackers talked in their apartment audibly to me about what could be seen on my screen thereby confirming for me that they could monitor it. I have moved elsewhere now, but my devices are still hacked by them, so their voices can be heard through my devices, and they can hear me. They constantly viciously harass me; they have stolen my passwords (theft) and compromised my accounts (fraud); they listen in to all my phone calls and intercept my private communications (messages and e-mails), they broadcast what I do privately on my computer to other people, they surveil me around the clock and record me inside my apartment, they keep getting away with corrupting and deleting my files. The hackers have access to my files, passwords, and accounts; they can control my devices; they have threatened to delete and have deleted my files; they have engaged in identity theft by stealing my passwords and identity fraud by compromising my accounts (i.e., they have access to my online accounts). They have compromised my digital identity and anonymity online. They cause me mental breakdowns on a regular basis.
The hackers talked in their apartment (right upstairs, on the 3rd floor) audibly to me, almost exclusively in Armenian, about what could be seen on my screen, thereby confirming (at least for me, conclusively) that it is they who had been hacking my computer and/or network and had been harassing me and continue to do so until now. The hackers are my (now) former neighbours (at Clareview Courts). Those neighbours of mine at Clareview Courts in my nearest vicinity who are also Armenians must be the hackers. If it turns out to be the case that the hackers are the only Armenians living in that building, then we will have demonstrated to a confidence level of at least clear and convincing evidence that my neighbours on the 3rd floor, the Armenian neighbours of mine are the hackers. I have recorded them harassing me and talking to each other about what they could see on my screen, and they kept track of all my activities on my devices.
They have utter hatred and contempt for homosexuals, gay sex, and gay porn. The hackers disapprove of my taste in pornography and my porn watching habits (Iing how frequently I watch it) and have on multiple occasions told me that they have been harming me Ie of my porn watching habits. They see how comfortable I am in my skin and at ease I am with my sexuality and have been trying to get me to be ashamed of things that I naturally get me horny. Their aims are that I feel humiliated and embarrassed of my porn collections. They find that I watch pornography more frequently than they would have me watch it; they denigrate my sexuality: they expend great effort to humiliate me and try to make me feel ashamed of my sexuality, and embarrassed that I watch guys having oral sex, and they become ever angrier at me for my refusing to feel ashamed of this, and even watching it more frequently not less, as my sign of disrespect towards them, for not carrying out their wishes. I have caught them on tape admitting that they were able to monitor my screen as they were describing what websites I visit and what porn I watched on my computer (legally permissible gay porn, including depicting young men at least at the age of 18. The hackers are extremely hateful homophobic people – all of them: 2 women, and 3 men, they have extremely outdated, ignorant, and backward views on homosexuality, they hold homosexual sex to be immoral.

some details: I (16F) am the middle child, and I have 2 siblings, one 18M. I have 2 mental illnesses that do affect my ability to function. My older brother has a mild case of intellectual disability. We are all Asian and live in Asia.
So the last 5-6 years, my older brother (let's call him F) has been going to school in Canada. Initially it was face-to-face, but then he returned half a year after the pandemic started, and his schooling turned virtual. But ever since he came back, my dad has been attending his lessons for him, with my help because he kind of sucks at English. So I have been proofreading his work for years, and still continue to do so today.
My dad got a promotion 2-3 years ago, and he has been unable to attend the lessons, so F attends them, but I do all or most of the work. This year I had a 3 month long exam period, and my mom has been doing the homework, and I occasionally pitch in to help with the things she can't do, like analyzing poems.
F has been unable to do any assignment on his own, and I have to translate the instructions into our native language or tell him what to do, like what things to google. He can't even do a proper google search on his own. He will only type what he sees on the results page, and he won't even click into the page to find more information. I'm not sure if he even knows what copy and paste is. He is unable to do basic math, only addition and subtraction, and more complex numbers like 35 + 35, he can't handle. My parents say he is good at English, but the texts I send him (in english) he cannot comprehend what I write and will ask me to clarify what I mean multiple times. He is unable to read books above a third grader's level, and I don't think he has picked up a book that he is uninterested in ever since returning to our country 4-5 years ago. He is unable to accept that some people will never like you no matter what you do, and he thinks that he is somehow will never go to jail because of his special status even if he breaks the law. Some things are banned where I live, but he thinks he can bypass the laws because he is special.
My parents have found him a college in Canada where he can learn something related to fixing cars (I don't really know what because they don't discuss this with me), and they're planning to send him back over there during the summer. He'll be living with a host family, and they will take care of his every need.
F clearly cannot handle going to college. I don't think he could handle elementary school! I don't know what is in my parents' brains for them to make such a stupid and ignorant decision.
I have tried persuading my parents to send F to a special school where they can teach him basic life survival skills and provide him with a stable job, but they refused. My mom's argument is that it's bad for us to label him. That's it, that's the argument. My dad can't even justify his decision. A talk with my grandma (dad's mom) revealed that my mom was worried about what others might think of her having such a son, but then, she boasts about me and my illnesses to her coworkers.
I tried and raged for months, but they did not give in. The only thing I can do is help them, because they have a lot to do and I don't want to see them suffer.
I don't want him to go overseas. He will most definitely be ostracized or even bullied, and it's a tremendous waste of money. I'm even considering writing a letter to his college asking them to make him do a test before accepting him. He won't be able to survive over there. I can't just stand by and watch him make a mess of his life. He has a tendency to threaten physical violence or suicide when faced with things he is unable to overcome, and he cannot accept even the most minor of criticisms by most people. I'm worried about what he may do with nobody there to look after him, and if things go wrong, there will be nobody to stop him.
And what about when my parents die? He will be on his own, and I'm not sure I have the capability to help him as I am not sure how my future is going to turn out at the moment.
Is there truly nothing I can do to help him, to have a chance of letting him get his much-needed education and survival skills?