Disgust / / Take My Hand

Mombasa, The Union of African Socialist Republics 

vibe

"Upheaval of the world, French Guiana the last stand of the West?"

"The torturous end of the Russian hyper-state has sparked a crisis for an increasingly volatile world."

Bandung Daily Issued August 1st, 2072 - 12:00 Mombasa, The Union of African Socialist Republics
MOMBASA - It would seem that the fall of the Great Russian Goliath had been in the making the moment that Dederick Lohengrin's empire collapsed, yet unlike the Álfheimr Civil War - the collapse of Russian Hegemony would be as swift as the dissolution of its predecessor, the Soviet Union. There was no tears to weep, no alliance to mourn, the Eastern Union had long ceased to be anything less than an arms manufacturer for the Bandung Pact - growing increasingly obsolete in the face of an expanding Pact technology network.
How many times had the world called for Russian aid? As much as the Russian and Eastern Union governments had decried the lack of a Western response to the original Downfall of Europe, by the late forties, the Eastern Union so overwhelmed with corruption, had become the very thing that those early Eastern Union ambassadors had loathed - they had, in essence, become the very thing they found disgusting. Italy, fallen at the hands of the Alfr and the Eastern Union did nothing. The countless provocations of the Aesir and never an adequate response, a Japanese Empire chipping away at the very bones of Eastern Union hegemony and in the end, it was only the intervention of INC diplomacy (theorized) that prevented the consumption of anything more than Manchuria. Even as the very Russian nation-state collapsed inward, not even the Bandung Pact could do more than give a shake of their heads while scalping away much of the Russian technological base in a way not dissimilar to the early East African efforts to save the Israeli industry. And as the once Karakum Union once again declared nominal independence from the broader Russian entity, the beginning of the end for Eastern Europe was once again nigh.
Therefore, it was no surprise when the Garden of Eden spread its roots through the former Polish hyper-state, the tendrils of Iohannis grasping at every fallen fruit, each an offering to the Earth Mother (so it's called in Eastern Europe). It was no surprise when the Second Roman Republic, what was once Greece, and the machinations in Yugoslavia equally unified under an expanded Republic partially at the behest of a significant diaspora of Italian veterans of the Gothic Wars. It was no surprise, when in the face of the spreading vines of Kyiv, that the UNSC under all its providence as a GIGAS member - initiated the annexation of what was once Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. It was no surprise, when the Bandung Pact did what it could to funnel Russian troops, assets, and civilians out of a collapsing hyper-state. It was no surprise, when the vulture of the Midnight Sun descended on Siberia, consuming Vladivostok and moving into Mongolia and across Lake Baikal.
It was however a surprise when radio messages of a free Europe, began quietly skimming across morning news in the Bandung Pact. It was a surprise when those same messages soon led to declaration of a new "Atlantic Russian Republic", when those radio waves turned into surviving Russian fleets massing in the last quietly surviving Russian territory that all but Russia had forgotten of. At one of the many mouths of the Amazon jungle, stood the Atlantic Russian Republic and the last bastion of Free Europe in the West. The fleets of the Polish-Russian hyperstate had under Bandung support, skulked quietly into the Atlantic Ocean under new flags, until eventually landing in French Guiana. Much like the French Remnant State which survived as the last offshoot until it was eventually subsumed by the Russian government, the Atlantic Russian Republic now stands as a mini Fortress-state, housing the vast Russian Navy and all its kinetic and rocketry might. Just as the French Free Navy slowly starved to death, so too, now does the Russian Navy in its hole across the Ocean. And with a resource crisis still ongoing even if neutered now by the rampant space mining operations of the hyper-powers, the Russian Navy in exile's position remains ever volatile.
November 20th, 2072
Tallinn, Estonia (UNSC Protectorate)
The wind and snow was heavy even for November, that was the thought going through the old dog's head as he watched his ward, the Princess Estelle addressing the rows of former Russian soldiers. And as she finished, the guns ringing out signaling the formalization of the groundwork laid so many years ago it was not hard for the General to maintain his stoic nature as the procession of soldiers filed out of the great hall that had been constructed in Tallinn. Like so many others, they had become nationless men, effectively dead and yet still very much alive and willing to fight.
"So this is what your deal bought you." the ex-Prime Minister, ex-President, Katz finally broke his silence as Princess Estelle made her way back under the cover of the gallery. "My Baltics, turned into the Fens."
There was a sadness to the eyes of the fair-haired Princess, one letting on only a fraction of the pain she had experienced over the past year. "My cousin...he told me this would be an early birthday present." She lowered her head out of respect to the Russian ex-minister. "Had I known...what all that would have entailed, I would have certainly declined."
Timo Kivinen, the General of so many things by now, knew there was bountiful more that the Princess would have wanted to share in that very moment. He had heard it, when they had first been informed of the operation. He had seen Estelle's outrage, as the good Prince George did his best to calm his dear wife. But now, in the aftermath of the Russian Collapse, Estelle had put on her brave face and in true STOICs fashion - mustered a smile and a bout of levity.
"I once asked my cousin to remember us as his family, I hadn't expected this is the path to be walked by our kin." Estelle cracked a wry smile, as she started walking towards the exit. "But there is more to come, isn't that right, General?"
"Yes." Timo nodded, as his thoughts turned to the fleets amassing in the Atlantic.
"What now?" Katz questioned, not expecting much of an answer.
"Promises to keep, we have promises to keep." Estelle's gaze turned towards the Sun and the thought of warm waters.

CLAIM REVEAL: THE EASTERN UNION STATES (MAP)

The Atlantic Russian Republic

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Maxim Katz
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
  • Those mentioned in bigrockswilderness Fleet Posts for Poland
• Population: 3,863,000 (including Naval and Marine personnel that evacuated Russia)
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • Has the ability to access a secret campaign (ALL THROUGH PLAYER INITIATIVE) to reclaim the Western Russian Remnant state in Europe.
  • Has control of 80% of the Russian Navy in entirety
  • Must find remedies for resource drain of the Fleet, or face narrative repercussions.
  • Starts with SECRET information that could lead to the expansion of the claim, early on.
  • Handing over the fleets, or coming under another's thumb or like-scenarios will result in a Naval mutiny. IE. this is not a viable "easy" option to deal with your lack of resources. There will be warning events.
  • Is not immediately aligned with anyone.
  • Has access to the entire Russian tech book (so to speak).

Things to Consider
The Atlantic Russian Republic (ARR) or better, the Russian Fleet in Exile is intended on being a claim that requires heavy amounts of player initiative through the early period of the season to survive. However, can blossom into a rewarding claim if played well.
This is a difficult claim in general, and you can expect to be under fire from many enemies as the Alfr remnant states (North America in particular) and the Bandung Pact both look to subsume or sink your fleets.

The Garden of Eden

• DETAILS
• Head of State: The Earth Mother - Klaus Iohannis
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
  • Zalmoxis
  • Prophet Amir
  • Burebistan
  • Pleistoros
• Population: Not currently calculable
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • Begins with 30% of the Russian Army - corrupted.
  • Receives [BATTLE] bonuses based on the level of "perversion" and its spread across not just the Garden, but of the world. This is internally tracked by the Mods.
  • Likewise, receives automatic NEGATIVE amplifiers to [DIPLOMACY] with NPCs. (You are really freaking out the Japanese and INC AlfRussian remnants.)
  • Has access to the entire Russian tech book (so to speak).

Things to Consider
This is a fairly niche claim, having to wrestle with both the Alfr, INC, and Japan in the immediate vicinity - while attempting to repair (or destroy) relations with other surrounding neighbors as you look more inward.

The Second Roman Republic

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Gaius Appuleius Diocles
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
  • Can be found here
  • And here for Italian related stuff
  • Niklas
• Population: 60,800,196
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • Ceasar's Legions = meta control over approx 200,000 battle-hardened Italian veterans of the Gothic Wars.
  • These legions will specifically receive significant [BATTLE] bonuses when used against Alfr remnant states. However, they are a finite number, each casualty being irreplaceable.
  • Additionally - the Legions have an expressed goal = reclaiming Rome (Italy). If this is not met by the 2/3rd mark of the Campaign, there will be IG repercussions of significant magnitude.
  • Begins the Campaign with positive diplomatic relations with ALL NPCs including Japan, non-playable Bandung Pact members, and non-claimable Alfr remnants. The only exception is TURKEY.
  • Has access to the entire Russian tech book (so to speak).

Things to Consider
The Second Roman Republic is a particularly interesting claim, due to its immediate diplomatic "neutrality through positive relations" and the fact that they have a legitimate claim to Italy if not Rome at large. However, they are also surrounded by power-hungry hyper-states that have increasingly small amounts of room to expand.
Questions please send on discord through private messages or comment on this post.

DAY: May 19 2024

• 5-19-2024 ILLNESS TOOK AWAY HER VOICE. AI CREATED A REPLICA SHE CARRIES IN HER PHONE Alexis Bogan, whose speech was impaired by a brain tumor, uses an AI powered smartphone app to create a audible drink order at a Starbucks drive-thru on Monday, April 29, 2024, in Lincoln, R.I. The app converts her typed entries into a verbal message created using her original voice. Credit: AP Photo/Steven Senne The voice Alexis “Lexi” Bogan had before last summer was exuberant. She loved to belt out Taylor Swift and Zach Bryan ballads in the car. She laughed all the time—even while corralling misbehaving preschoolers or debating politics
• 5-19-2024 SMART CONTACT LENSES LEAD THE WAY FOR HUMAN-MACHINE INTERACTION Scientists have developed eye-tracking smart content lenses based on radio frequency tags that can be used for various applications, including health care and augmented reality (AR). The lenses are biocompatible and imperceptible, requiring no battery or conventional silicon chips. Smart contact lenses that can keep track of various health factors and can be used for human-machine interaction (HMI) are a relatively new technology.
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• 5-19-2024 OPENAI GIVES CHATGPT NEW POWERS TO SEE, HEAR OpenAI and Microsoft are in a heated rivalry with Google to be generative AI’s major player, but Facebook-owner Meta and upstart Anthropic are also making big moves to compete. OpenAI on Monday released a higher performing and even more human-like version of the artificial intelligence technology that underpins its popular generative tool ChatGPT, making it free to all users. The update to OpenAI’s flagship product landed a day before Google is expected to make its own announcements about Gemini, the search engine giant’s own AI tool that competes with ChatGPT
• 5-19-2024 CHATBOTS TELL PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT TO HEAR, RESEARCHERS FIND Chatbots share limited information, reinforce ideologies, and, as a result, can lead to more polarized thinking when it comes to controversial issues, according to new Johns Hopkins University–led research. The study challenges perceptions that chatbots are impartial and provides insight into how using conversational search systems could widen the public divide on hot-button issues and leave people vulnerable to manipulation. “Because people are reading a summary paragraph generated by AI, they think they’re getting unbiased, fact-based answers,”
• 5-19-2024 STUDENTS, ACTIVISTS, ENTERTAINERS: MINECRAFT’S GLOBAL APPEAL Since the first version of Minecraft was released to the public 15 years ago, the block-based world-building game has become a global phenomenon. Since the first version of Minecraft was released to the public 15 years ago, the block-based world-building game has become a global phenomenon. Players of all ages and backgrounds have used the game for everything from educational projects and architecture to building communities and creating artwork. With more than 300 million copies sold, it is the best-selling video game of all time.
• 5-19-2024 SWISS NURSERY LETS ROBOT DO THE TALKING Swiss children in a Lausanne creche have some fun with their new robot friend, Nao. Sat in a circle on the nursery floor, a group of Swiss three-year-olds ask a robot called Nao questions about giraffes and broccoli. By the time these children become adults, interacting with robots may well be as commonplace as using a smartphone, experts believe. So one Lausanne creche has decided to give them a head start.
• 5-19-2024 EU TO ENCOURAGE INFLUENCERS TO HAVE ‘POSITIVE’ IMPACT Younger audiences increasingly get their information from influencers as they turn away from traditional media. The EU announced steps Tuesday to encourage influencers to post content that has a “positive” impact on society, as concerns rise over disinformation in a fragmented information landscape. With online creators increasingly the preferred source of news and opinions for younger audiences in the European Union, Brussels said they needed to be helped to use their role wisely. Ministers from EU countries responsible for culture, audiovisual and media issues approved a series of steps
• 5-19-2024 THE METAVERSE COULD CHANGE OUR RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES, AND CREATE NEW ONES New technologies have always informed and changed our religious experiences. Listening to early radio broadcasts in the 1880s was experienced by many as religious because radio voices seemed to come from some other dimension. Séances became wildly popular at the time because it was thought by some that radio had opened a door to the spirit world. Today, religion is experiencing new transformations. The information-rich, image-laden character of the internet can provide new ways to understand and explain religious activity.
• 5-19-2024RESEARCH SHEDS LIGHT ON THE WEB OF TRUST, PRIVACY AND SAFETY FACTORS SHAPING USERS’ EXPERIENCES ON FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE Love it or hate it, Facebook Marketplace is the largest online resale site today with more than one billion monthly users.
• 5-19-2024RESEARCH SHEDS LIGHT ON THE WEB OF TRUST, PRIVACY AND SAFETY FACTORS SHAPING USERS’ EXPERIENCES ON FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE Google on Tuesday rolled out a retooled search engine that will frequently favor responses crafted by artificial intelligence over website links, a shift promising to quicken the quest for information while also potentially disrupting the flow of money-making internet traffic. The makeover announced at Google’s annual developers conference will begin this week in the U.S. when hundreds of millions of people will start to periodically see conversational summaries
• 5-19-2024 NEW STRATEGIC DESIGN APPROACH FOCUSES ON TURNING AI MISTAKES INTO USER BENEFITS More and more often, automated lending systems powered by artificial intelligence (AI) reject qualified loan applicants without explanation. Even worse, they leave rejected applicants with no recourse. People can have similar experiences when applying for jobs or petitioning their health insurance providers. While AI tools determine the fate of people in difficult situations daily, Upol Ehsan says more thought should be given to challenging these decisions or working around them. Ehsan, a Georgia Tech explainable AI (XAI) researcher, says many rejection cases are not the applicant’s fault.
• 5-19-2024 MANAGING SCREEN TIME BY MAKING PHONES SLIGHTLY MORE ANNOYING TO USE Existing apps for managing screen time can abruptly lock users out of their phone. If users were in the middle of an important task, they could scramble to skip the time limit, opening themselves up to spend more time on their phone than originally intended. InteractOut’s interventions are more gradual and allow users to decide when to put down their phones while also encouraging them to think harder about their smartphone use.
• 5-19-2024 DIGITAL TWIN HELPS OPTIMIZE MANUFACTURING SPEED WHILE SATISFYING QUALITY CONSTRAINTS Feedrate optimization using an uncertainty-aware digital twin demonstrates significant cycle time reductions of up to 38% in a CNC machine tool while staying close to the error tolerances compared to the existing methods. A new method uses a digital twin to optimize manufacturing machine speed—known as feed rate—while adhering to quality constraints,
• 5-19-2024 THE INCREASING DIFFICULTY OF DETECTING AI- VERSUS HUMAN-GENERATED TEXT Generative artificial intelligence (AI) tools are used to create text, images and videos, impacting the way society consumes and produces online content. As that technology continues to evolve, it is becoming increasingly difficult to tell the difference between AI-generated and human-generated content. Determining the integrity of online information—particularly text—is the current research focus in the Penn State Information Knowledge and wEb (PIKE) Lab, led by Dongwon Lee, professor in the College of Information Sciences and Technology at Penn State. In a discussion with Penn State News, Lee spoke about the
• 5-19-2024 RESEARCH TEAM WORKS TO IMPROVE AI-BASED DECISION-MAKING TOOLS FOR PUBLIC SERVICES More and more public services—such as affordable housing, public school matching and child welfare—are relying on algorithms to make decisions and allocate resources. So far, much of the work that has gone into designing these systems has focused on workers’ experiences using them or communities’ perceptions of them. But what about the actual impact of these programs have on people, especially when the decisions the systems make lead to denial of services? Can you design algorithms to help people make sense of and contest decisions that significantly impact them?
• 5-19-2024 CINEMATIC TOOLS CAN SIGNIFICANTLY IMPROVE USER EXPERIENCE IN VIRTUAL REALITY ENVIRONMENTS Without teleportation, many users would be unable to use virtual reality due to motion sickness. Unfortunately, teleportation can cause users to miss important aspects of their surroundings. Credit: Alan Medlar Cinematography techniques can significantly increase user engagement with virtual environments and, in particular, the aesthetic appeal of what users see in virtual reality.
• 5-19-2024 HUMAN DIFFERENCES IN JUDGMENT LEAD TO PROBLEMS FOR AIThe noise level observed in ComVE annotations when controlling the minimum (a) and maximum (b) allowable labels for each turker (we omit the residual in these two figures as, similar to what was observed earlier for TG-CSR, it was nearly coincidental with the level noise curve). We also report the statistics of statements categorized by the number of annotation labels under different cutoff methods used for screening participating annotators
• 5-19-2024 HUMAN DIFFERENCES IN JUDGMENT LEAD TO PROBLEMS FOR AI Innovation is rarely accidental. Behind every new invention and product, including the device you are using to read this story, is years of research, investment, and planning. Organizations that want to reach these milestones in the fastest and most efficient way possible use technology roadmaps.
• 5-19-2024 HUMAN DIFFERENCES IN JUDGMENT LEAD TO PROBLEMS FOR AI A team of researchers at Delft University of Technology has developed a drone that flies autonomously using neuromorphic image processing and control based on the workings of animal brains. Animal brains use less data and energy compared to current deep neural networks running on graphics processing units (GPUs).
• 5-19-2024 US SENATORS UNVEIL ‘ROADMAP’ TO AI LAWS Top US lawmakers on Wednesday said efforts to pass laws governing AI were entering a higher gear and hoped to pump $32 billion into the sector to help assure US dominance. US Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer said bipartisan legislators had agreed on a policy roadmap and had tasked key senate committees to draft specific proposals on regulating AI. The US is home to the biggest AI companies in the world and has trailed the EU and other regions on coming up with rules to rein in the sector.
• 5-19-2024 US SENATORS UNVEIL ‘ROADMAP’ TO AI LAWS Google chief executive Sundar Pichai says the AI revamp of its online search engine will soon spread to countries other than the United States. Google’s use of artificial intelligence to sum up answers to search queries has publishers wondering if traffic to their websites will wither. The internet titan announced Tuesday it is introducing AI-generated answers to online queries in the United States, in one of the biggest changes to its world-leading search engine in 25 years.
• 5-19-2024 CONSUMER GROUPS ACCUSE TEMU OF MANIPULATING ONLINE SHOPPERS Chinese shopping app Temu has on average around 75 million monthly active users in the EU. European consumer groups on Thursday accused Chinese shopping app Temu of using “manipulative techniques” to make users spend more and other violations of a landmark EU tech law. One of the fastest-growing apps, Temu only entered the EU market in April 2023 and says it has on average around 75 million monthly active users in the 27-country bloc. Europe’s BEUC umbrella consumer rights group filed a complaint with the European Commission while 17 member
• 5-19-2024 PARENTS UNDERESTIMATE THE PRIVACY RISKS KIDS FACE IN VIRTUAL REALITY Nearly two thirds of parents of children aged 5–10 don’t understand the metaverse, according to the Institution of Engineering and Technology. Credit: Kampus Production/Pexels/public domain Virtual reality lets kids play 3D games with their friends as avatars, go back in time, even journey to outer space, all without leaving their living rooms. But while children are immersed in the metaverse, they also face privacy risks that their parents might not recognize
• 5-19-2024 MODEL DISGORGEMENT—THE KEY TO FIXING AI BIAS AND COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT? By now, the challenges posed by generative AI are no secret. Models like OpenAI’s ChatGPT, Anthropic’s Claude and Meta’s Llama have been known to “hallucinate,” inventing potentially misleading responses, as well as divulge sensitive information, like copyrighted materials.
• 5-19-2024 CAN WE RID ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE OF BIAS? AI giants face a challenge of making artficial intelligence models reflect the world’s diversity without being overly politically correct. Artificial intelligence built on mountains of potentially biased information has created a real risk of automating discrimination, but is there any way to re-educate the machines? The question for some is extremely urgent. In this ChatGPT era, AI will generate more and more decisions for health care providers, bank lenders or lawyers, using whatever was scoured from the internet as source material.
• 5-19-2024 CHATGPT IS NOW BETTER THAN EVER AT FAKING HUMAN EMOTION AND BEHAVIOR OpenAI executive Mira Murati launching GPT-4o. Credit: OpenAI Earlier this week OpenAI launched GPT-4o (“o” for “omni”), a new version of the artificial intelligence (AI) system powering the popular ChatGPT chatbot. GPT-4o is promoted as a step towards more natural engagement with AI. According to the demonstration video, it can have voice conversations with users in near real-time, exhibiting human-like personality and behavior. This emphasis on personality is likely to be a point of contention. In OpenAI’s demos, GPT-4o sounds friendly, empathetic and engaging. It tells “spontaneous” jokes, giggles, flirts
• 5-19-2024 MOST PEOPLE STILL THINK BARRISTERS NEED TO SOUND POSH, RESEARCH SHOWS—BUT ACCENT DISCRIMINATION SERVES NO ONE In the UK legal system, a barrister’s job is to present formalized legal arguments in court and at tribunals. Training to become one, therefore, involves considerable focus on oral skills. It is considered important that barristers have the ability to speak “eloquently.” This risks people thinking there is a “correct” way of speaking in order to be successful in this career. Accents, of course, play an important role here. Accent-based bias discriminates against speakers with non-standard accents—people whose speech differs from Received Pronunciation (RP).
• 5-19-2024 A MINUTE’S SILENCE IS FINE BUT WHEN IT COMES TO VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN, BEING QUIET ISN’T ENOUGH Sport has a role to play in creating a culture of respect, yet women in sport are often seen as “less than” on almost every measure: salaries, sponsorship, broadcasting, leadership, access, media, coaching, officiating, uniforms and support. Research shows 3 out of 4 Australian men are gender equality supporters, but very few (17%) prioritize taking any action. As Australia grapples with a “national crisis” of violence against women, what can men in sport do to help?
• 5-19-2024 ARE CANADIANS TOO POOR TO BREAK UP? Why did Al and Peg Bundy from the sitcom Married… with Children never get divorced? After all, they were rarely happy and constantly arguing. Maybe they felt they were the best they could do for each other—a middle-aged homely shoe salesman and a stay-at-home mom with two kids. They cared for each other, but they also hated each other deeply. And neither ever cheated, despite having the opportunity. However, what if the Bundys lived in Canada today?
• 5-19-2024 REPORT LOOKS AT ‘POVERTY STIGMA’ THROUGH A NEW LENS TO STAMP IT OUT OF SOCIETY Stigma is a glue that holds poverty, inequality and economic insecurity in place enabling and exacerbating inequalities of wealth, health and opportunity, says a new report. Poverty stigma is a “wicked social problem,” highly complex, difficult to define and challenging to solve
• 5-19-2024 HOW CRAFT-BASED FIRMS PROJECT AUTHENTICITY THROUGH CREDIBLY AND VISIBLY COMMUNICATING THEIR IDENTITY Consumers are drawn to authenticity when it comes to craft-based firms, and a study looked at how managers in identity-driven markets are challenged to maintain their authenticity as their company’s scale of operations expands. In such craft industries, the authors note, overt claims of authenticity by producers are ineffective.
• 5-19-2024 PSYCHOLOGICAL RESEARCH OFFERS STRATEGIES FOR HEALTHY POLITICAL DISCUSSIONS AMONG PEOPLE WITH OPPOSING VIEWS Civilized political debates may seem increasingly out of reach as democracies across the world face rising polarization, but people still want to discuss issues with people they disagree with—especially those who present themselves as balanced and willing to seek solutions that work for everyone or open to learning new information, according to two studies published by the American Psychological Association.
• 5-19-2024 MORE THAN HALF OF AMERICANS GIVE TO CHARITY AT CHECKOUT, SURVEY SHOWS 53% of Americans give to charity at checkout, and young and diverse people tend to do it more often, according to new research from Binghamton University, State University of New York. Credit: Binghamton University, State University of New York Fifty-three percent of Americans give impulsively to charities at the checkout, and certain demographics tend to give more, according to a new survey conducted by faculty at Binghamton University,

Prequel (Chapters 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
First ¦ Previous ¦ Royal Road ¦ Patreon
Kayla followed her squad into a dropship and took the free seat next to Kes. The frantic treatment and evacuation of wounded Raiders had gone smoothly, and as far as Kayla knew, no-one had been pronounced killed in action.
The vessel’s ramp closed and it lifted into the night. Through a window, Kayla saw the mountains recede below them as they climbed to orbit. She tapped her helmet’s release and servos whined as the faceplate retracted.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
Kes raised her own vizor. “We’re returning to the Banshee,” she said.
Kayla began to protest, but the corporal held up a hand.
“Just take it easy, will you? I don’t know what’s going either, but the order came direct from General Smyrna.”
“Rayker’s out there and wounded. Aren’t we going after her?”
Kes returned her frustrated expression with raised eyebrows, and Kayla realized that she shouldn’t push the issue. She would simply have to wait.
Another helmet popped open. “Kayla,” Ray said, with an edge to her voice, “I obviously wasn’t there with you in the castle. Didn’t you say you surprised Rayker when you tried to shoot her?”
Kayla nodded.
“But she’d already been shot up by the Raiders? How many times?”
“Six, Christie said.”
Ray gave her a significant look. “Well, you’re the best pistol shot in the company. How is it possible she got away from you?”
Kayla shook her head. She was also confused about what exactly had happened. “I don’t know. She was just too fast.”
“So, she heals crazy fast, yeah? And now that she’s alert and on the move, she could pick us to pieces while we try to chase her down.”
Kayla flashed her fire team member a look of disdain. “You know what, Ray, I didn’t join Valkyrie because I wanted a safe and easy life—”
“Barnes knock it off,” Kes hissed. “This decision is over our heads, so let it go. We’ll get a full briefing on the Banshee. Got it?”
Kayla felt the pain of bottled-up anger, but the squad leader was right. She glanced back at Ray, but the woman had already sealed up her helmet and was watching the planet recede out the window.
On the opposite seat of the ship, Kayla made out the form of Tian, and gave her a kick, but her helmet remained closed, and she didn’t respond. Further down the bay, Thandi caught her eye and gave a quick shake of her head.
That brought Kayla up short. Even her best friend looked like she was pissed at her, and that only happened when she genuinely screwed up.
She carefully felt down her chest rig and pulled a silver necklace out from a pouch—the only place she kept it when she wasn’t wearing it. It was a simple piece of jewelry consisting of a chain looped through a small coin which was engraved with a name. She tied the chain around her wrist so it couldn’t fall off, and held the coin tightly in her hand. The adrenaline in her blood stream began to fade, and she soon crashed with exhaustion.
The Rangers passed an uncomfortable flight of several hours, struggling to sleep in the awkward seats of the dropship. Once they began their approach to the Banshee, hidden in the shadow of Ambrosia’s moon, Kes began to wake them. Yawning and sleepy eyed, they piled out into the hangar of their mothership.
“Team leaders!” Lieutanant Akane called to the disembarking Rangers. “Gather on me. The rest of you are on standdown—take care of your kit, get some showers and food.”
Kayla stayed with Kes as they followed Akane, and the rest of the company’s NCOs and officers, over to a corner of the Banshee’s hangar, where Captain Aguilar and her headquarters staff were waiting.
“Is that everyone?” Aguilar asked as she eyed the assembled Rangers. “Okay take a knee, and I’ll bring you up to speed. I know a lot of you were surprised to see us returning to the Banshee while our principal target is on the run, but here’s what’s happening.”
Her company first sergeant activated a holo-projector and a spider web relief of the mountains they had left took shape from the light rays. A small point of light was nestled in the river canyon, just outside a major beach resort, twenty miles from the chateau.
Aguilar gestured to the display. “One of the team members in the chateau was able to plant a tracking device on Rayker’s body before she regained consciousness. This is her current location. She is obviously resting in a concealed position, near a civilian population center.”
Murmurs ran through the small crowd. Kayla’s jaw clenched.
“A couple of things are immediately obvious from tonight’s events,” Aguilar continued. “Point one; she made this trip in thirty minutes. After the Raiders shot her to pieces.”
This announcement was met with whistles and gasps of disbelief. Kayla shivered. What was it going to take to put her down for good?
“She went straight for a public place,” Aguilar continued, “because she knows we would want to avoid exposure. That should tell you how much she’s figured out about this organization.”
“Or already knew,” a voice said to a few murmurs of agreement.
“You keep thoughts like that to yourself,” Aguilar snapped. “I’m not having rumors and speculation distracting the company from this mission. Anyone who just mouthed off can consider this your first and final warning to pull your head out of your ass.”
Nobody so much as shifted their weight.
“Point two;” Aguilar continued, “her speed indicates how problematic a chase could be, even if she’s unarmed. Command cannot take the risk of a protracted battle that roams across such a public area. Point three—and this is where it gets really concerning—the missile launch that hit the building tonight came from a battery of Ambrosia’s sky defense. Intel indicates it was hacked remotely.”
Silence followed this statement. Anti-air missiles did not target buildings, which meant that either the launch had been planned ahead of time, or someone had pulled off an obscenely difficult system takeover and then reprogrammed a guidance head with only a few minutes of warning. Both possibilities were equally appalling.
“So, as we have suspected for some time, Rayker has an extremely powerful friend in the galaxy. Tonight, we were given proof of that relationship in spades. Someone was able to see what was happening at the chateau and reacted immediately to protect her, cutting out dozens of command-and-control links in seconds. Ladies, we have to face the fact that we are out of our depth if we try to fight our target within Helvet-controlled space.”
Kayla’s expression turned sour. Around the half-circle, other Rangers looked similarly morose.
Aguilar sighed heavily before she continued. “The decision has been made to let her go in the hopes that she will lead us towards her benefactor. Or at least somewhere that helps us better understand her support network.”
Heads shook and voices grumbled. Even though the conclusion had been obvious since the words ‘tracking device’, Kayla still felt angry, and cheated. But she couldn’t argue with the rationality behind the decision and resigned herself to the general opinion that they were all back to square one.
“The Task Force will remain close on her trail and, if this device sends out its tampering alert, we will close in for the kill as soon as we can.” Aguilar paused and ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t mind telling all of you that letting this animal go, after so much work and preparation, burns my soul. But we have to face the fact that our organization is behind the curve on a truly profound threat within human civilization. I, for one, want to do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of it. So—food, showers and rest, and be ready for a fast turnaround. We might need to pounce at a moment’s notice.”
She looked around the assembled faces. “Questions or comments?”
Kayla cleared her throat. “Ma’am, I suggest we nuke the site from orbit. It’s the only way to be sure.”
Several Rangers laughed while Aguilar cracked a wry smile. “Thank you, ‘Great Destroyer’ Barnes, for that insight. I will be sure to pass it up the chain.
Some of the anger eased with the moment, and Kayla began to feel the creeping cloud of fatigue fog her mind. The officers had a few other questions about the company’s readiness, which Kayla, in her unhappy state, took as further evidence that nothing reassured them more in times of stress than the sound of their own voices.
Eventually the meeting broke up, but as Kayla turned to go, she felt a firm hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Kes, accompanied by Lieutenant Akane. The corporal motioned with her head to step to one side. They were all visibly exhausted, but there was obviously more that needed to be said before they could call it a night.
“So, Lance Corporal Barnes,” the platoon leader began, “I’ve got Raiders clamoring to buy you a drink and demanding that I put in the paperwork for a medal. It seems that the two operators who were first to arrive at the scene, Shaklia and Guiying, were quickly neutralized by Rayker. Without your help, they might both have been killed, instead of currently comatose, but alive. Not to mention how many others in that hallway she might have exacted her revenge on.”
“Ma’am, I take full responsibility for my actions and—”
“Goddammit Barnes, it’s been a long night and I don’t need you interrupting me when I’m dressing you down.”
Kayla fell silent.
“So, whilst your act of heroism undoubtedly should be recognized, it needs to be balanced against the reality that you effectively deserted your squad, without communication, or co-ordination, and without letting them catch up to support you. Leaving Corporal Rudaski here in the impossible position of splitting her squad in two, so your fire team could be led on a not-so-merry goose chase, while she held down the perimeter.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Squads may be composed of two fire teams, Barnes, but they do not separate out of contact. They are a single, cohesive unit of Rangers that support each other through thick or thin.”
Kayla nodded tiredly.
Akane cocked her head. “In hindsight everything turned out okay. But what if you had been wrong?”
Kayla met her eyes with an expression of confusion. “Ma’am?”
“As far as we know, a missile system thirty kilometers away just upped and generated its own firing solution. Someone knew we were going for Rakyer, and they tried to stop us. But what if the strike wasn’t enough? What if there was a risk of her being deeper in the chateau? What if this unknown adversary had a ground team nearby, whose job it was to approach the chateau and extract Rayker? If they had seen your movement, and gone for the perimeter covered by your weakened and distracted squad, you could be looking at four dead Rangers. Am I wrong, Barnes?”
“No, ma’am.” Kayla looked down, and felt a cold dread flooding her veins. “Ma’am I sincerely apologize for my actions. I lost control.”
“I’m not so sure,” Kes interjected. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to speak to you about your lone-wolf approach.”
“I approved your promotion,” Lieutenant Akane said, “because you drive hard to be a better Ranger, and you push the others to keep up. As much as I hate to criticize heroic actions and quick thinking, it seems clear that you tore off because you have a deep comfort with leaving your team behind to take on the world by yourself. If you can’t get past your own ego, you’re a danger to all of us. Any more solo adventures, and I’m going to drop you back to private.”
Kayla’s stomach knotted. Up until that moment, she had been totally convinced she had been justified in taking off, but she hadn’t even considered the possibility of another threat. And, now that she was forced to think about it, why would Rayker have hung around to finish off the downed Valkyrie? She certainly knew she only had seconds to get away.
Doubt and shame swirled together through the tiredness and left Kayla with only one certainty. She didn’t have all the answers. With her lack of experience, she should obviously listen to her seniors and do her best to earn their respect. But Kes had stuck her neck out for her with the early promotion, and now she had embarrassed them both in the eyes of the platoon leader.
Kayla hung her head, and nodded her acknowledgement.
Akane rubbed her eyes. “Corporal Rudaski, you’ll put her on probation for the next three months. Any slip-ups, and I’m dropping her to private again.”
“Yes ma’am,” Kes replied.
They saluted, and watched as the lieutenant walked away. Kayla began to head back to her bunk, but Kes stopped her.
“One more thing, Barnes. If I ever hear you question one of my girls’ courage in front of the squad again, I’m going to have you transferred out of the battalion. Understand?”
Kayla was shocked. On the dropship, the thought of abandoning the hunt for Rayker had left her so angry. Had she really been that callous when she snapped at Ray?
“Yes, Corporal,” she nodded shamefully.
“That kind of leadership is a cancer that has to be destroyed before it can spread.” Her expression softened. “But I want to leave you the benefit of the doubt. Your judgment tonight wasn’t all that clear, was it? I mean, Christie was pretty vulnerable, alone in that chateau.”
Kes paused as she rubbed her neck. Kayla noticed her fingers brushing the chain of a necklace, which she knew to be identical to her own, but with more names.
“You know,” Kes said hesitantly, “we were all heartbroken by Rose’s death—”
Kayla shook her head and her words came out in a rush. “That has nothing to do with anything. Right? I am fully aware that everyone carries their own burden, and I’m carrying mine. Okay, I screwed up and made a bad call. I’ll own it in the hot wash, and I’ll commit to working on myself as a better fire team leader.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode away, as icy fingers threatened to crush her heart.
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Prequel (Chapters 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie

Prequel (Parts 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
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Kayla followed her squad into a dropship and took the free seat next to Kes. The frantic treatment and evacuation of wounded Raiders had gone smoothly, and as far as Kayla knew, no-one had been pronounced killed in action.
The vessel’s ramp closed and it lifted into the night. Through a window, Kayla saw the mountains recede below them as they climbed to orbit. She tapped her helmet’s release and servos whined as the faceplate retracted.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
Kes raised her own vizor. “We’re returning to the Banshee,” she said.
Kayla began to protest, but the corporal held up a hand.
“Just take it easy, will you? I don’t know what’s going either, but the order came direct from General Smyrna.”
“Rayker’s out there and wounded. Aren’t we going after her?”
Kes returned her frustrated expression with raised eyebrows, and Kayla realized that she shouldn’t push the issue. She would simply have to wait.
Another helmet popped open. “Kayla,” Ray said, with an edge to her voice, “I obviously wasn’t there with you in the castle. Didn’t you say you surprised Rayker when you tried to shoot her?”
Kayla nodded.
“But she’d already been shot up by the Raiders? How many times?”
“Six, Christie said.”
Ray gave her a significant look. “Well, you’re the best pistol shot in the company. How is it possible she got away from you?”
Kayla shook her head. She was also confused about what exactly had happened. “I don’t know. She was just too fast.”
“So, she heals crazy fast, yeah? And now that she’s alert and on the move, she could pick us to pieces while we try to chase her down.”
Kayla flashed her fire team member a look of disdain. “You know what, Ray, I didn’t join Valkyrie because I wanted a safe and easy life—”
“Barnes knock it off,” Kes hissed. “This decision is over our heads, so let it go. We’ll get a full briefing on the Banshee. Got it?”
Kayla felt the pain of bottled-up anger, but the squad leader was right. She glanced back at Ray, but the woman had already sealed up her helmet and was watching the planet recede out the window.
On the opposite seat of the ship, Kayla made out the form of Tian, and gave her a kick, but her helmet remained closed, and she didn’t respond. Further down the bay, Thandi caught her eye and gave a quick shake of her head.
That brought Kayla up short. Even her best friend looked like she was pissed at her, and that only happened when she genuinely screwed up.
She carefully felt down her chest rig and pulled a silver necklace out from a pouch—the only place she kept it when she wasn’t wearing it. It was a simple piece of jewelry consisting of a chain looped through a small coin which was engraved with a name. She tied the chain around her wrist so it couldn’t fall off, and held the coin tightly in her hand. The adrenaline in her blood stream began to fade, and she soon crashed with exhaustion.
The Rangers passed an uncomfortable flight of several hours, struggling to sleep in the awkward seats of the dropship. Once they began their approach to the Banshee, hidden in the shadow of Ambrosia’s moon, Kes began to wake them. Yawning and sleepy eyed, they piled out into the hangar of their mothership.
“Team leaders!” Lieutanant Akane called to the disembarking Rangers. “Gather on me. The rest of you are on standdown—take care of your kit, get some showers and food.”
Kayla stayed with Kes as they followed Akane, and the rest of the company’s NCOs and officers, over to a corner of the Banshee’s hangar, where Captain Aguilar and her headquarters staff were waiting.
“Is that everyone?” Aguilar asked as she eyed the assembled Rangers. “Okay take a knee, and I’ll bring you up to speed. I know a lot of you were surprised to see us returning to the Banshee while our principal target is on the run, but here’s what’s happening.”
Her company first sergeant activated a holo-projector and a spider web relief of the mountains they had left took shape from the light rays. A small point of light was nestled in the river canyon, just outside a major beach resort, twenty miles from the chateau.
Aguilar gestured to the display. “One of the team members in the chateau was able to plant a tracking device on Rayker’s body before she regained consciousness. This is her current location. She is obviously resting in a concealed position, near a civilian population center.”
Murmurs ran through the small crowd. Kayla’s jaw clenched.
“A couple of things are immediately obvious from tonight’s events,” Aguilar continued. “Point one; she made this trip in thirty minutes. After the Raiders shot her to pieces.”
This announcement was met with whistles and gasps of disbelief. Kayla shivered. What was it going to take to put her down for good?
“She went straight for a public place,” Aguilar continued, “because she knows we would want to avoid exposure. That should tell you how much she’s figured out about this organization.”
“Or already knew,” a voice said to a few murmurs of agreement.
“You keep thoughts like that to yourself,” Aguilar snapped. “I’m not having rumors and speculation distracting the company from this mission. Anyone who just mouthed off can consider this your first and final warning to pull your head out of your ass.”
Nobody so much as shifted their weight.
“Point two;” Aguilar continued, “her speed indicates how problematic a chase could be, even if she’s unarmed. Command cannot take the risk of a protracted battle that roams across such a public area. Point three—and this is where it gets really concerning—the missile launch that hit the building tonight came from a battery of Ambrosia’s sky defense. Intel indicates it was hacked remotely.”
Silence followed this statement. Anti-air missiles did not target buildings, which meant that either the launch had been planned ahead of time, or someone had pulled off an obscenely difficult system takeover and then reprogrammed a guidance head with only a few minutes of warning. Both possibilities were equally appalling.
“So, as we have suspected for some time, Rayker has an extremely powerful friend in the galaxy. Tonight, we were given proof of that relationship in spades. Someone was able to see what was happening at the chateau and reacted immediately to protect her, cutting out dozens of command-and-control links in seconds. Ladies, we have to face the fact that we are out of our depth if we try to fight our target within Helvet-controlled space.”
Kayla’s expression turned sour. Around the half-circle, other Rangers looked similarly morose.
Aguilar sighed heavily before she continued. “The decision has been made to let her go in the hopes that she will lead us towards her benefactor. Or at least somewhere that helps us better understand her support network.”
Heads shook and voices grumbled. Even though the conclusion had been obvious since the words ‘tracking device’, Kayla still felt angry, and cheated. But she couldn’t argue with the rationality behind the decision and resigned herself to the general opinion that they were all back to square one.
“The Task Force will remain close on her trail and, if this device sends out its tampering alert, we will close in for the kill as soon as we can.” Aguilar paused and ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t mind telling all of you that letting this animal go, after so much work and preparation, burns my soul. But we have to face the fact that our organization is behind the curve on a truly profound threat within human civilization. I, for one, want to do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of it. So—food, showers and rest, and be ready for a fast turnaround. We might need to pounce at a moment’s notice.”
She looked around the assembled faces. “Questions or comments?”
Kayla cleared her throat. “Ma’am, I suggest we nuke the site from orbit. It’s the only way to be sure.”
Several Rangers laughed while Aguilar cracked a wry smile. “Thank you, ‘Great Destroyer’ Barnes, for that insight. I will be sure to pass it up the chain.
Some of the anger eased with the moment, and Kayla began to feel the creeping cloud of fatigue fog her mind. The officers had a few other questions about the company’s readiness, which Kayla, in her unhappy state, took as further evidence that nothing reassured them more in times of stress than the sound of their own voices.
Eventually the meeting broke up, but as Kayla turned to go, she felt a firm hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Kes, accompanied by Lieutenant Akane. The corporal motioned with her head to step to one side. They were all visibly exhausted, but there was obviously more that needed to be said before they could call it a night.
“So, Lance Corporal Barnes,” the platoon leader began, “I’ve got Raiders clamoring to buy you a drink and demanding that I put in the paperwork for a medal. It seems that the two operators who were first to arrive at the scene, Shaklia and Guiying, were quickly neutralized by Rayker. Without your help, they might both have been killed, instead of currently comatose, but alive. Not to mention how many others in that hallway she might have exacted her revenge on.”
“Ma’am, I take full responsibility for my actions and—”
“Goddammit Barnes, it’s been a long night and I don’t need you interrupting me when I’m dressing you down.”
Kayla fell silent.
“So, whilst your act of heroism undoubtedly should be recognized, it needs to be balanced against the reality that you effectively deserted your squad, without communication, or co-ordination, and without letting them catch up to support you. Leaving Corporal Rudaski here in the impossible position of splitting her squad in two, so your fire team could be led on a not-so-merry goose chase, while she held down the perimeter.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Squads may be composed of two fire teams, Barnes, but they do not separate out of contact. They are a single, cohesive unit of Rangers that support each other through thick or thin.”
Kayla nodded tiredly.
Akane cocked her head. “In hindsight everything turned out okay. But what if you had been wrong?”
Kayla met her eyes with an expression of confusion. “Ma’am?”
“As far as we know, a missile system thirty kilometers away just upped and generated its own firing solution. Someone knew we were going for Rakyer, and they tried to stop us. But what if the strike wasn’t enough? What if there was a risk of her being deeper in the chateau? What if this unknown adversary had a ground team nearby, whose job it was to approach the chateau and extract Rayker? If they had seen your movement, and gone for the perimeter covered by your weakened and distracted squad, you could be looking at four dead Rangers. Am I wrong, Barnes?”
“No, ma’am.” Kayla looked down, and felt a cold dread flooding her veins. “Ma’am I sincerely apologize for my actions. I lost control.”
“I’m not so sure,” Kes interjected. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to speak to you about your lone-wolf approach.”
“I approved your promotion,” Lieutenant Akane said, “because you drive hard to be a better Ranger, and you push the others to keep up. As much as I hate to criticize heroic actions and quick thinking, it seems clear that you tore off because you have a deep comfort with leaving your team behind to take on the world by yourself. If you can’t get past your own ego, you’re a danger to all of us. Any more solo adventures, and I’m going to drop you back to private.”
Kayla’s stomach knotted. Up until that moment, she had been totally convinced she had been justified in taking off, but she hadn’t even considered the possibility of another threat. And, now that she was forced to think about it, why would Rayker have hung around to finish off the downed Valkyrie? She certainly knew she only had seconds to get away.
Doubt and shame swirled together through the tiredness and left Kayla with only one certainty. She didn’t have all the answers. With her lack of experience, she should obviously listen to her seniors and do her best to earn their respect. But Kes had stuck her neck out for her with the early promotion, and now she had embarrassed them both in the eyes of the platoon leader.
Kayla hung her head, and nodded her acknowledgement.
Akane rubbed her eyes. “Corporal Rudaski, you’ll put her on probation for the next three months. Any slip-ups, and I’m dropping her to private again.”
“Yes ma’am,” Kes replied.
They saluted, and watched as the lieutenant walked away. Kayla began to head back to her bunk, but Kes stopped her.
“One more thing, Barnes. If I ever hear you question one of my girls’ courage in front of the squad again, I’m going to have you transferred out of the battalion. Understand?”
Kayla was shocked. On the dropship, the thought of abandoning the hunt for Rayker had left her so angry. Had she really been that callous when she snapped at Ray?
“Yes, Corporal,” she nodded shamefully.
“That kind of leadership is a cancer that has to be destroyed before it can spread.” Her expression softened. “But I want to leave you the benefit of the doubt. Your judgment tonight wasn’t all that clear, was it? I mean, Christie was pretty vulnerable, alone in that chateau.”
Kes paused as she rubbed her neck. Kayla noticed her fingers brushing the chain of a necklace, which she knew to be identical to her own, but with more names.
“You know,” Kes said hesitantly, “we were all heartbroken by Rose’s death—”
Kayla shook her head and her words came out in a rush. “That has nothing to do with anything. Right? I am fully aware that everyone carries their own burden, and I’m carrying mine. Okay, I screwed up and made a bad call. I’ll own it in the hot wash, and I’ll commit to working on myself as a better fire team leader.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode away, as icy fingers threatened to crush her heart.
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Prequel (Parts 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie

The episode resumed on a shot of Zee and Jo, their skin tones back to normal, running up to a smiling Chris. "Welcome back," he told the camera. "Zee and helper Jo are the first to arrive here, at the world's largest mud puddle!" The camera pulled back, revealing that the trio was standing near the edge of a large lake of burbling mud, a measuring stick rising out of it at the nearest edge.
"It's eight feet deep," Chris explained over a close-up of the measuring stick showing the mud reaching up very nearly to the 8' mark, "and 200 yards across. And," the camera quick-panned to the far right side of the 'puddle', "since it's too thick to swim through," the shot cut back to the couple and Chris, "the only way to the other side is with one of you piggybacking the other."
"Umm...," Zee said hesitantly, sharing a wary look with Jo, "doesn't that mean the person on the bottom..."
"Will drown?" Chris finished. "Yes."
"What?!" Jo said in wide-eyed shock.
"Unless they use this garden hose!" Chris added, a light chime playing as he held up a length of green hose.
Zee let out a breath. "Okay then. Guess I'm on the bottom, then."
Jo's eyes widened a bit in a brief bit of surprise, and she looked at her partner. "I should be objecting to this since I'm supposed to be the helper, but hey. No heavy lifting from me."
"Yeah…" Zee agreed half heartedly.
Confessional: Zee
"I was able to hold Jo onto my back while we were skiing," Zee told the confessional. "I can still do the same while under mud."
Confessional Ends
"I know that I said you were weak in the past," Jo said, "but that was until I saw that you were able to make it this far in the game."
"You thought wrong about me," Zee replied. "I wasn’t active at first in challenges and finding food, but with Julia eliminated, I was able to grow and become a finalist."
Chris suddenly stepped between the two. "How touching. Now start the challenge."
The scene cut to Zee and Jo jumping into the mud, the former disappearing below its depths while the latter, on his shoulders, held up the length of the hose. They started moving forward, and the camera panned back to the left to show Harold, Scarlett, and Chris holding up another length of hose.
"Yeah, I'll be on top," Harold stated.
"Pardon me?" Scarlett countered, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't trust you not to let me drown," Harold told her. "Self-preservation comes first."
Scarlett groaned. "That's fair," she said, taking the hose from Chris, "but if you let me suffocate, I'm dragging you down into the mud with me."
"Crustal," Harold deadpanned, and as Scarlett crouched down, she jumped onto the brainiac's shoulders. Scarlett stood back up and put the end of the hose in her mouth, and she jumped into the mud.
The tense music faded away as the camera moved onto Chris, the host sighing as Chef walked up. "You think the mud was a bad idea?" Chris asked. "It's a little quiet… oh yeah," Chris said as if in sudden realization, "almost forgot about the Peanut Gallery. Bring 'em back in!" he said into a walkie talkie he only then pulled out.
Moments later, the wind kicked up around them, and the camera zoomed out to show the large helicopter flying in with the former contestants still hanging – and screaming as they swayed ominously – below it. "Would you let us down already?!" Leshawna shouted angrily. "It's freezin' up here!"
"Yeah, I want to cheer for Zee!" Julia chimed in.
"If I wasn't tied up right now, I'd have half a mind to pound you!" Duncan shouted at the host.
The camera focused on DJ. "Hey, Chris?" he looked forward and asked loudly. "Just bring us down before anybody else gets miffed at you!"
"No, and I don't care," Chris answered with a calm smile, until Chef whispered to him. A flat note played over a close-up of Chris staring blankly at him. "Huh...good point," he admitted. "Ooh!" he said with a sudden grin. "I just had an idea!"
A flash took the scene to Zee and Jo, the tense challenge music resuming at a low volume and slow pace in the background. They were still slogging through the mud, Zee out of sight but Jo only submerged up to her stomach. She looked back over her shoulder, smiled, then said "Keep going!" into the piece of hose she was holding. "They're way far behind!"
Confessional: Zee
"So as it turns out," Zee said, "being submerged in the mud is kinda like being trapped in the dark. But there aren't any animals below to scare me."
Confessional Ends
The music ramped up as Jo suddenly stopped moving, then seemed to turn around and start moving back towards the start. "Uh, Fruit Loop?" she asked into the hose. "We're going the wrong way!"
The camera cut to Harold, looking somewhat bored as he held the hose atop Scarlett's shoulders, before noticing the other team and frowning. "Why are they coming this way?"
"Ugh! They're too safe to sabotage each other!" came the sudden voice of Chris McLean, the camera cutting to him standing in the show's jeep with Chef at the wheel, speaking into the microphone of the jeep's loudspeaker. "Deploy the 2.0 model!"
The shot cut back to Harold and Jo as they looked around with strange expressions, the sound of something like a rocket taking off coming from somewhere in the distance. They looked up and to the left, and the camera shifted to their viewpoint to show a large object shooting up through the sky overhead...
...then abruptly diving towards them, revealing itself as a red-eyed robotic bear with small jet engines coming out of its back. Harold and Jo screamed as their respective partners continued in their previous directions, getting out of the way as the Bear landed in the mud. It hit with enough force to cause a wave of mud, which shot all the way across the puddle carrying the finalists and their helpers along for the ride. All four immediately began to cough upon landing in a muddy heap.
Confessional: Harold
"At least I have a better shot," Harold said. "We're tied right now, but who knows what other tricks Chris has up his sleeves."
Confessional Ends
A close-up of the nozzle of a fire hose in Chef's hands preceded him blasting the muddy finalists and helpers with water, all four screaming where they'd landed on the shore of the 'puddle'. Moments later, the water was shut off, leaving them drenched but clean.
"We're all tied up," Chris announced with a smile. "Perfect time for a little break. First, let's bring in the Peanut Gallery again." He took out his remote and pointed it at a patch of ground nearby, a hole opening up in it and a rather shoddy-looking set of stadium seats shooting up out of it with the ten former contestants seated – and still tied-up – in it.
"Sha-finally," Lightning said, the shot cutting to him sitting in the top row with B, DJ, Duncan, and Max and Leshawna, Ella, Julia, Sammy, and Amy in the bottom row. "Are we gonna get to watch the rest of the challenge now?"
"Yup!" Chris answered with a happy smile, pressing the button on his remote again so that a large widescreen television emerged from another hole in the ground near him and the finalists.
"Will you untie us too?" Ella chimed in.
Chris huffed. "Whine, whine, whine," he said in annoyance. "Don't I do enough for you kids as it is?"
"No," all fourteen of the season's cast members replied at the same time.
A flat note played over a close-up of the host pursing his lips. "Yeah, I owe Chef twenty bucks about that," Chris said, the camera zooming back out again to show the finalists and helpers. "Everyone, grab a seat," he instructed, and the four reluctantly sat down on the logs lying behind them. "I'm gonna show you some of my favorite clips from the show..." He pointed his remote at the TV, and the shot focused in as it switched on and started to play footage of a confessional...
"Dunderhead was already pretty useless," Jo complained. "But now he's making moves on one of the actually decent players on the team? Not on my watch!"
The camera cut in close to show Jo pausing and looking back. "Something on your mind, Anti-Squeakerbox?" she asked, the camera shifting to show B peering at her and shaking his head.
“It's not what you think it is," Jo told him. "As long as they are on this team, Julia and Zee will not date."
“Not exactly how I wanted the elimination to play, but hey. Julia’s gone and with Zee still in the game, I could manipulate him into doing whatever I say,” Jo grinned.
The footage paused, and Chris leaned out in front of the television with a wide and mischievous grin. "Seems like there isn't a shipper on deck…" he said impishly.
"So you were trying to keep me and Julia apart?" Zee said as the camera moved to him and Jo, his eyes wide with shock. "Does this mean that...,"
"Yup. I convinced Julia to quit," Jo replied. "I didn't expect her to fully go through with it since I was gonna vote you out!"
"I can't believe you'd try and do that!" Zee said with a glare!"
"If I didn't do what I did, then you two likely would've blown challenges for us like the dueling one!" Jo argued back.
The camera focused on Julia in the Peanut Gallery. "I was trying to defend my boyfriend, but sure," she said dryly.
"I'm just worried what Chris is gonna show from Scarlett," Sammy said. "It looks like he wants to mess up the finalists and their helpers..."
"Maybe he won't show anything?" Amy suggested. "I mean, it's not like Scarlett and Harold were that close to begin with."
The shot cut back to a smiling Chris. "Oh, don't worry, I have no intention of leaving those guys out of all this fun," he said happily.
"I don't see how," Scarlett said. "Harold already knows everything about me now. I’m practically an open book."
Chris laughed. "Seems you forgot that the cameras are always on. So here's some more juicy information that everybody gets to hear." The screen on the TV went from static to a scene from the fifth episode.
Scarlett herself grabbed the dueling stick Ella retrieved, fished an electric eel out of the water, and tossed it to Max. "Max!" she cried, and her teammates looked at her in confusion, prompting her to pretend that she had coughed. "Pardon me!"
“The plan was for Max to be the only one not in the trap, so the team would know he built it and vote him off!” Scarlett confessed.
"I overheard Leshawna and Harold's conversation when they were foraging together, and Leshawna being on to me is something that I refuse to let happen," Scarlett claimed. “Zee's really gullible enough to deceive, and I'll try to talk to Ella.”
A deep, dramatic note was struck over a shot of Harold in shock. "So it was you who got Leshawna eliminated!" he scowled in Scarlett's direction.
"I wasn't ready to come out just yet, and between the two of you, you were less likely to warn anyone about me!" Scarlett retorted.
"So all this time, Scarlett was aiming to usurp her master!" Max ranted.
"I don't blame her," Leshawna commented. “As much of a pain as she is, I would've done the same thing and sent your annoying behind home.”
"Okay," Chris said happily as the shot moved onto him, "I'm sensing some major hostility and I'm liking it. I'm out of popcorn, though, so we should probably get back to the challenge."
"Seriously?!" the finalists and helpers alike exclaimed.
"Obviously, the helpers aren't gonna be very helpful anymore," Chris replied. "So, instead of helpers, Jo and Scarlett will now be hinderers." As he spoke, Chef walked back into view with a pair of video game controllers, tossing one each to Scarlett and Jo. "The island is now back online," Chris continued, "and, with these controllers, they will be able to throw up obstacles to throw you down, or, completely crush you."
The shot cut to Scarlett as she looked at her controller and smirked. "Good to know."
"Looking forward to it," Jo said in determination.
Harold and Zee gulped, and Chris laughed. "That was the good part," he said. "Let me tell you the bad part. You have ten minutes to finish this challenge," he told Zee and Harold. "If neither of you do, Scarlett and Jo get to split the money."
"Dude, what?" Zee said in shock.
"You can't do that!" Harold protested.
"I can! I will! I am! GO!" Chris announced, blowing his airhorn right in Chef's face, earning an annoyed sigh from the man. Harold and Zee immediately ran off, but the camera cut to a close-up of a thoughtful Jo.
"Well...I want the money, but I'm not really comfortable with how this is set up," Jo said to herself. "But...I guess it wouldn't be too bad if I just made this a little more challenging for them..."
"Do what you want," Scarlett said, the camera panning over to show her grinning darkly with her controller in hand. "I'm getting my justice."
Confessional: Jo
“And I thought I was an underhanded person,” Jo mentioned to herself. “Velma has less morals than me and Gnome Master.”
Confessional: Scarlett
"I was snubbed in the last episode," Scarlett confessed. "And now that I've been given permission, I can stop the finalists from winning without getting electrocuted!" She pulled out the remote from the seventh episode. "I don't even need this device. I have a controller to do the job for it."
Confessionals End
A few quick drum taps opened up a deep and dangerous challenge theme, the scene returning to Zee and Harold sprinting across the open field only to gape in shock as the pine trees in the background starting launching like rockets.
"What the heck?" Harold said. "Rocket trees?"
One landed right behind them, forcing both finalists to roll forward out of the way. "This island is wild!" Zee cried as the two continued running, more and more trees landing behind them like massive spears.
The two were shown together in a brief close-up, raising their eyebrows in surprise. A quick-pan ahead revealed the landscape changing, trees and rock formations rising up out of the artificial ground to form a large, dense barrier.
Harold jumped ahead of Zee as they climbed over the first big rock formation.
Zee vaulted downward and dashing forward along a lower 'path' among the rocks. Just as he was about to jump down onto grass, however, a boulder shot upward – and he landed on it groin-first. A close-up showed him letting out a high-pitched squeal of pain.
Harold's wince drew the camera's attention back upward to show him leaping from a boulder and grabbing onto the branch of a tree, only for the tree to suddenly shoot back down into the ground – causing him to yell as it dragged him down and slammed him back-first onto a fallen log.
Zee gave him a quick concerned glance as he jumped onto the same log, then upwards onto a rock formation before climbing onward and to the right and out of sight.
The scene cut back to the hinderers, both still working their controllers with Scarlett still looking considerably happier about it. "No need to change what works," Jo said uncertainty.
"What happened to that cutthroat attitude you've been displaying?" Scarlett asked. "Don't throw it away when I can get something out of it. And lower some of those trees. They're giving them too much cover from this storm I'm whipping up."
The camera panned onto the monitor to show Zee and Harold struggling against a powerful wind as they walked through what looked like a dense forest as leaves, dust, branches, and various small woodland animals blew past them.
A focus on the monitor's screen transitioned the scene back to the challenge. "I think...I can see the finish line in the distance," Zee said, pausing for a moment as he struggled against the intense gale.
"They're not making this easy on us," Harold commented.
The pair briefly passed behind a thick and mossy pine tree, the camera zooming in slightly as they reappeared. "Would you?" Zee asked.
"...I guess not," Harold answered after a moment.
The shot cut back to the Peanut Gallery to show them watching with worry and anticipation. "C'mon, Harold," Leshawna spoke. "Just hang in there."
"I know you can win this, Zee," Julia said. "You deserve it after everything."
Then the camera cut back to the hinderers, Chris standing next to their monitor with his hands behind his back and a smile on his face. "Ooh! They're getting close!" he said excitedly, prompting Scarlett to scowl and Jo to frown.
Once more the scene moved back to the finalists, their arms raised to buffer themselves against the winds – snow beginning to fall and lightning beginning to crack in the background - with Harold in the lead. "Two minutes left!" Chris called out over the island's loudspeaker. "Two minutes!"
"I...," Harold said with glee. "I think I can make it!"
"Not if I can help it!" Zee shouted, speeding up as the dense trees around him and Harold began to recede into the ground – and the tense and dangerous challenge music resumed. "If I win, me and Julia can go out and change the world together."
"I have to win this," Harold told him. "I've been undervalued and looked down on by my peers, friends, and even my family. I need to prove my might."
The snowy ground below their feet began to crack. A hollow sound played, then all at once, the ground shot up under them, earning startled yells from both. The shot soon cut to the new peak they were standing on rising up into the sky, then stopping.
"Drats..." Zee muttered, both finalists looking down with wide eyes. his final word echoed as the camera zoomed out, revealing the snowy mountain they were now at the top of.
The Peanut Gallery was shown gasping, as were Jo, though Scarlett was smiling as their misfortune. "Twenty seconds left...!" Chris said as the camera moved on to him looking at his watch.
The shot cut back to Harold. "I guess it's over," he sighed. “Scarlett wins after all.”
Zee noticed a bulge in the snow beside him. The boy shoved his hand into it and pulled out the phone Duncan stole from Chris. "I don't know how this got here, but we have to get down. Start stomping the ground."
Harold nodded and stomped on the ground at his feet, and after a few cracks, Zee hurled the phone down, breaking the device apart. Their eyes widened as the mountain began to crumble under them, and the ground imploded in on itself.
"Six! Five!" Chris began to count off, the music cutting out save for a single plodding note to highlight each number. "Four!" The camera panned onto the television, showing both finalists tumbling through the snow and rock. "Three! Two! One!" The shot cut to the finish banner, then zoomed out to show the avalanche stopping just under it – with neither finalist in sight. "GAME OVER!" he announced, blowing on his airhorn as a subdued but triumphant riff played.
Jo stood up in surprise, and Scarlett started cheering.
"My mission was a success!" Scarlett said in victory. “Now hand over my well-deserved prize!”
"Congratulations Jo and Scarlett," Chris said with his usual smile. "Revenge is sweetest-" he glanced at the monitor- "ohhhhh, what have we here?" he said with a sudden look of shock, the music cutting out as he pointed at the television screen.
A sharp note played as a familiar hand stuck out of the snow lying just past the finish line and waved. Scarlett's jaw dropped in shock, and Jo let out a sigh of relief.
The scene cut to the finish line, the camera pulling back a little ways as Chef walked up with a stretcher, dressed as a female nurse. Leshawna ran onscreen and pushed him out of the way. Chef flew off frame with a shout, and Leshawna grabbed the arm and pulled, freeing a shocked and snowy Harold from the aftermath of the avalanche. "Oh," he groaned, looking around as Leshawna dropped him on the stretcher, "what happened?" he asked as the victorious music began to play again with much more enthusiasm.
"You won, Ginger Baby!" Leshawna answered with a smile, the camera pulling out even more to show Harold looking back at the finish banner.
"I did it!" Harold said excitedly. "Harold Norbert Cheever Doris McGrady V has claimed victory! Boo yah!" he raised his arms and cheered, the shot cutting away to show all of the Peanut Gallery cheering.
“We weren't able to talk to each other as much, and it's clear we like each other as more than just friends, but how about we hang out a little bit back home and see where things go?” Leshawna suggested.
“As long as we don't rush into a committed relationship, I'd like that,” Harold smiled back.
The camera panned to the left to show Julia frantically pulling a dazed and half-conscious Zee from the rest of the avalanche, and picking him up onto her back.
"Julia," Zee said weakly, "I'm sorry that I-"
"Be quiet," Julia said with a weak smile as she carried her boyfriend over to the stretcher and set him down next to Harold. "You need to rest."
"But-" Zee tried to say.
He was cut off by Julia grabbing his head and kissing him full on the lips. "You didn’t win the money, but we can still provide for the world in our own ways, and with the power of love," she said with a smile as she broke the kiss, leaving Zee looking dopey.
The capstone theme began to play as the footage skipped ahead to a shot of the open sky, the double-rotored helicopter soon flying up into view. "That's it for this very, very off season," Chris began, standing in the open doorway with Zee and Julia sitting on the edge letting their legs dangle freely with Julia leaning into Zee; Harold and Scarlett standing on either side of Chris, the latter annoyed and the former grinning while holding the suitcase full of money to his chest; and the rest of the cast, crouching down and peering over in the gaps between and behind the rest, constantly jockeying for position as they tried to get one last shot of themselves on camera.
"This is Chris McLean, saying if you can't stand the pain-" the handsome host continued, the shot cutting in closer- "stay off the Total! Drama! Paaaahkitew Island!"
"RE-VENGE!" Max suddenly yelled from behind Scarlett, shoving her out of the helicopter, and the brainiac screamed as she fell.
The camera lingered on the dumbfounded looks of Chris and the other ex-campers, all of them staring at Max in shock. "This is how a traitor should be rewarded," he said, crossing his arms and closing his eyes defiantly.
The ex-campers and host burst out laughing, and a fun and energetic tune started to play. The camera panned over to the windshield to show Chef laughing along with the rest of the cast from the pilot's seat, and the helicopter flew away.
The music soon faded away, though, and the scene quick-panned down to show a screaming Scarlett landing in the giant mud puddle. She quickly surfaced with a shocked splutter, and pulled herself out onto dry land. "How am I going to get home now because of those imbeciles?!"
A few ominous notes were struck, and a ferocious growl caught Scarlett's attention. She looked up, and the camera zoomed out to show Scuba Bear 2.0 standing over her, eyes red. "Heheh," the brainiac laughed nervously. "You're not going to hurt me are you?"
The scene abruptly cut outward to the full long-distance shot of the island, the ominous music ending as Scarlett's scream and Scuba Bear's snarl echoed across the lake.
(Roll the Credits)
Lightning - 14th
DJ - 13th
Amy - 12th
B - 11th
Julia - 10th
Max - 9th
Leshawna - 8th
MERGE
Jo - 7th
Duncan - 6th
Ella - 5th
Sammy - 4th
Scarlett - 3rd
Zee - 2nd
Harold - 1st

Timestamp and videos https://imgur.com/WbglQ6B
Please let me know if the videos don't ever load. Imgur is acting like... Imgur. Asking 180$for either knife now asking 165$ for GOM OBO, YOLO>Anything else. PPGS only.
Both knives were users, I am the original owner of both, both knives have only been sharpened once and are still very sharp without any noticeable chips that I can see. Both have been stripped twice for routine maintenance, both have the obvious signs of use on backspacer, clip, and scales. In the case of the GOM pvd is rubbed off on the bolsters in a few spots, and the non show side thumb hole from where I've been reverse flicking it for ages. Both knives have their OG packaging and will come with them. For whatever reason, the GOM's cert of authenticity is like glued to the top of the case under the foam. I don't want to try to rip it off in case someone is more of a collector but it is there.
The Crypt has one of my favorite actions of all knives. Very hydraulic in its controlled descent as it is slow shaked shut. Very snappy, and pleasing acoustics. I'm sad to let it go, but the stonewash is really prone to rust where I am currently in FL. I rubbed a few spots off the blade, dissembled and re oiled it, and haven't carried it in like 6 months due to fear of rust. Despite the blade being m390, I don't recommend humid conditions. Bestech I believe was the OEM and I was genuinely baffled how good the action is. Appears to be dead on centered. Asking 180$ shipped anywhere in the Continental US. SOLD at asking. Updated image gallery https://imgur.com/gallery/4vvHRVX
The G.O.M. is drop shut with very little encouragement, but can be tuned down to a more shake shut drop if that is your preference. Very snappy, all deployments work perfectly. I love this knife. I will probably buy another one down the line but only time will tell. This was one of the special editions that was oil can bronze/black pvd. As advertised oils on the hands make the bronze look purple and iridescent but it's not super noticeable. The knifes backspacer has the worst snail trails, the rest of the knife is still in good condition for the years it's seen in my pocket. Also appears dead on centered. ~~Asking 180$ now asking 165$~~ sold at 155$ per chat shipped anywhere in the Continental US. Updated GOM album https://imgur.com/gallery/YSuPjet

Games list - wii u 171 games Wii U games

• [ ] The Legend of Zelda Wind Waker
• [ ] Mario Party 10
• [ ] Wii Sports Club
• [ ] Paper Mario Color Splash
• [ ] The Legend of Zelda Twilight princess
• [ ] Kirby and the Rainbow Paintbrush
• [ ] Olli Olli
• [ ] NSMB U and NSLB
• [ ] Dr Luigi
• [ ] Need for Speed Most Wanted
• [ ] Yoshis Woolly World
• [ ] Super Mario 3d World
• [ ] Animal Crossing Plaza
• [ ] NES REMIX 2
• [ ] Super Mario Maker
• [ ] NES REMIX
• [ ] Minecraft Wii U Edition
• [ ] Splatoon
• [ ] Gunman Clive HD Collection
• [ ] Angry Birds Star Wars
• [ ] Angry Birds Trilogy
• [ ] Rayman Legends Challenges App
• [ ] Mario + Sonic at the Sochi 2014 Olympic Winter Games
• [ ] Mario + Sonic at the Rio 2016 Olympic Games
• [ ] PIKMIN 3
• [ ] Rayman Legends
• [ ] ZombiU
• [ ] Scribblenauts Unlimited
• [ ] The Cave
• [ ] Super Smash Bros for Wii U
• [ ] Sonic + All stars Racing Transformed
• [ ] Hyrule Warriors
• [ ] Rabbids Land
• [ ] Star Fox Zero
• [ ] Wii Party U
• [ ] Minecraft Story Mode
• [ ] Xenoblade Chronicles X
• [ ] The Legend of Zelda Breath of the Wild
• [ ] Pullblox World
• [ ] Shovel Knight: Treasure Trove
• [ ] FAST Racing NEO
• [ ] Double Breakout
• [ ] Call of Duty: Black Ops 2
• [ ] Bayonetta
• [ ] Bayonetta 2
• [ ] Wii Fit U
• [ ] Shantae: Half-Genie Hero
• [ ] Shantae and the Pirate’s Curse
• [ ] Animal Crossing: amiibo Festival
• [ ] Sonic Lost World
• [ ] Mario Tennis: Ultra Smash
• [ ] Mario Kart 8
• [ ] Tekken Tag Tournament 2 Wii U Edition

53 games
Wii games

• [ ] New Super Mario Bros Wii
• [ ] Super Mario Galaxy 2
• [ ] Donkey Kong Country Returns
• [ ] Rayman Raving Rabbids
• [ ] Kirby’s Adventure Wii
• [ ] Beat the Beat Rhythm Paradise
• [ ] Super Paper Mario
• [ ] WarioWare: Smooth Moves
• [ ] Wario Land: The Shake Dimension
• [ ] Kirby’s Epic Yarn
• [ ] Mario Sports MIX
• [ ] Donkey Kong Jungle Beat
• [ ] Wii Sports + Resort
• [ ] Klonoa
• [ ] Wii Party
• [ ] Super Smash Bros Brawl
• [ ] Animal Crossing City Folk
• [ ] Wii Play
• [ ] Mario Kart Wii
• [ ] Harvest Moon: Animal Parade
• [ ] de Blob
• [ ] de Blob 2
• [ ] Red Steel 2
• [ ] Mario + Sonic at the Olympic Winter Games
• [ ] Call of Duty Modern Warfare 3
• [ ] Mario Strikers Charged Football
• [ ] Mario + Sonic at the Olympic Games
• [ ] Mario + Sonic at the London 2012 Olympic Games
• [ ] Mario Party 8
• [ ] Bomberman Land Wii
• [ ] Big Brain Academy: Wii Degree
• [ ] Sonic Colors
• [ ] Rayman Origins
• [ ] Rayman Raving Rabbids TV Party
• [ ] Rabbids Go Home
• [ ] Punch Out
• [ ] Pikmin 2 for Wii
• [ ] Excite Truck

38 games
GCN

• [ ] Mario Party 7
• [ ] Mario Party 6
• [ ] Animal Crossing
• [ ] Super Monkey Ball
• [ ] Super Monkey Ball 2
• [ ] Rayman 3 Hoodlum Havoc
• [ ] Mario Kart Double Dash
• [ ] Luigi’s Mansion
• [ ] SSX 3
• [ ] Paper Mario The Thousand Year Door
• [ ] Mario Power Tennis
• [ ] Pac-Man World 2
• [ ] Pac-Man World 3
• [ ] Mario Golf Toadstool Tour
• [ ] Mario Smash Football
• [ ] Crazy Taxi
• [ ] Disney Pixar Cars
• [ ] Soul Calibur 2
• [ ] SpongeBob SquarePants: Battle for Bikini Bottom
• [ ] Spyro A Hero’s Tale
• [ ] Wario World
• [ ] Tony Hawk’s Underground 2
• [ ] Sonic Adventure 2 Battle
• [ ] Pikmin

24 games
N64

• [ ] Donkey Kong 64
• [ ] The Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time
• [ ] Super Mario 64
• [ ] Mario Golf
• [ ] Banjo Kazooie
• [ ] Excitebike 64
• [ ] Harvest Moon 64
• [ ] 1080 Snowboarding
• [ ] Wave Race 64
• [ ] Mario Party 2

10 games
SNES/NES

• [ ] F-Zero
• [ ] Earthbound
• [ ] Earthbound Beginnings
• [ ] Excite bike
• [ ] Donkey Kong Country
• [ ] Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy’s Kong Quest
• [ ] Donkey Kong Country 3: Dixie Kong’s Double Trouble
• [ ] Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars
• [ ] Galaga

9 games
DS

• [ ] New Super Mario Bros
• [ ] Dr Kawashima’s Brain Training How Old is Your Brain?
• [ ] Big Brain Academy
• [ ] Animal Crossing: Wild World
• [ ] Mario Kart DS
• [ ] Mario Party DS
• [ ] Yoshi’s Island DS
• [ ] Yoshi Touch and Go
• [ ] The Legend of Zelda Spirit Tracks
• [ ] The Legend of Zelda Phantom Hourglass
• [ ] Super Mario 64 DS
• [ ] WarioWare Touched
• [ ] Mario vs. Donkey Kong 2: March of the Minis

13 games
GBA

• [ ] Mario vs. Donkey Kong
• [ ] Super Mario Ball
• [ ] Super Mario Advance
• [ ] Super Mario Advance 4: Super Mario Bros 3
• [ ] Rayman Advance
• [ ] Rayman 3
• [ ] Kirby + the Amazing Mirror
• [ ] Donkey Kong Jungle Climber
• [ ] Mario Golf: Advance Tour
• [ ] DK: King of Swing
• [ ] Harvest Moon
• [ ] Klonoa: Empire of Dreams
• [ ] Game + Watch Gallery Advance
• [ ] Mario + Luigi Partners in Time
• [ ] F-Zero X
• [ ] Golden Sun
• [ ] Golden Sun: The Lost Age
• [ ] PAC-MAN Collection
• [ ] Drill Dozer
• [ ] Wario Land 4
• [ ] Wario Ware, Inc. Minigame Mania

21 games
GB/GBC

• [ ] Mario’s Super Picross
• [ ] DK Jr Math

1 games
Extra

• [ ] Mario Kart Arcade GP
• [ ] Mario Kart Arcade GP 2

2 games

Prequel (Chapters 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
First ¦ Previous ¦ Next ¦ Royal Road ¦ Patreon
After a little polite small talk, she let him hang for a while, occasionally offering eye contact and a warm smile. Rayker prowled frequently through the room, casting brief glances at Kolar, and Christie reminded herself not to overdo it.
As she watched the dark figure stalk away again, she escalated her apparent state of inebriation. Muttering something about the restroom, she stepped forward and jostled the unhappy looking Kolar, spilling his drink all over his badly fitted tuxedo.
“God I’m SOOO sorry,” wailed Christie, smothering the appalled man’s crotch with a napkin. “Come out into the air to let it dry.”
She dragged him, protesting furiously, out of the main room towards a quiet balcony. A pair of guards looked in on them, then moved away in embarrassment.
“We can’t go back in until it’s dried,” she declared. “What will people think? They’ll say we were—oh well you know.” She cackled.
Kolar stood helpless. “I wouldn’t dream of—totally unthinkable.” He stammered.
“Oh my deeeaaaar!” Christie cooed. “Are you saying I’m ugly?”
“Absolutely not, you are… very beautiful.”
Christie stared into his eyes with the most seductive expression of gratitude she could muster. Then she turned back to the dark mountains beyond.
“This is such a lovely spot, isn’t it?” she sighed, and took out her lipstick.
A furious looking Rayker strode out from the balcony’s doors.
“Doctor Kolar,” she snapped. “Please return with me to the main room immediately. Your behavior is entirely inappropriate. Leave this… this girl to make a fool of herself somewhere else.”
Kolar’s frightened eyes jumped from Christie’s sly grin to Rayker’s terrifying expression.
Out of options, Christie decided to go for broke. “God you’re such a bore, aren’t you, Ranky? Frigid old woman. Why don’t you let the fellow enjoy himself?” She reached a hand up to his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Rayker’s lips turned into a sneer. “You pathetic, drunken—”
She froze, suddenly alert as her eyes snapped around the balcony.
Christie almost wanted to grab Kolar and haul him backwards into the void. Below them, the waterfall fell away down a thousand-foot cliff. Her nanite enhanced body would survive the fall, and if she positioned herself to cushion Kolar, maybe he would too. She would be hospitalized for months, but anything was better than letting Rayker take her alive.
But the woman lunged forward with impossible speed and seized Christie’s neck. “Luring me outside, is that it?” she spat.
Christie was thrown bodily back into the hallway inside. She fought to regain her senses, but the cold fingers wrapped around her throat again, and she screamed as loudly as she could. On the balcony, a pale Kolar sank to the floor in shock.
“I don’t know what you are yet, you little whore,” Rayker hissed into Christie’s ear.
Her hand came up, and the flesh of her wrist ripped open to reveal a bloody cavity, and a needle sharp spike of bone, aimed at Christie’s forehead.
“But I think you’ll soon tell me everything I want to know.”
Christie screamed again, and tried to kick her captor. She probably ought to pretend to faint, but there was no way she could fool Rayker. What the hell had she seen to tip her off? How much longer before it would all be over?
A breathless guard raced into the hallway and stopped, going pale as he caught sight of Rayker.
“What is it?” she snapped impatiently.
The guard blinked, pulled his gaze away from the woman’s mutated arm and began to speak. “There’s—”
The lights went out, and they were plunged into darkness. Christie heard the distant whir of something sliding fast down a rope.
The pressure on her throat vanished and she collapsed to the ground, just as the windows exploded. Black shapes poured into the hallway. There was a whir, a wet thunk, and a cut off scream, followed by a clatter of silenced gunshots. Christie curled into a ball to protect herself, and out of the corner of her eye she saw something like a giant spider climb onto the ceiling before reaching out an arm.
A black weapon spat another burst of fire. There was a rasping gurgle and Rayker’s body fell to the ground.
Boots stomped back and forth in a chaos of movement. As her spinning mind’s revolutions began to slow, Christie felt a firm hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her upright.
Nearby, a black-suited soldier strode away. “Target secured,” it said, in the harsh rasp of a machine voice.
Christie found herself sat upright, staring into a bug-eyed metal vizor.
“Clear! Move to the main room!” someone else announced.
The vizor slid upwards to reveal the grim face of a woman she didn’t recognize, staring at her in concern. “Are you hurt soldier?” she asked.
Christie shook her head. “I’m okay. Did someone…?”
“We have one casualty. Kolar’s secured, and Rayker is down for the count.”
Christie looked over and saw a blood-stained body in a heap in the center of the hallway. Two armed, masked figures stood over it, weapons aimed firmly. Nearby, the security guards had been bound and blindfolded.
By the balcony entrance, one of the Valkyrie had collapsed against a wall with a spike buried in her chest. As Christie stared at her, the facemask slid up to reveal the pale, gasping face of Urtiga, the Raider team’s senior NCO. Urtiga caught her eye, and winked through her grimace of pain.
Down the hall she could hear the steel-faced soldiers flooding the rooms, demanding, in robotic tones, compliance from the guests. There had been a terrorist attack in the area, they explained, but security had intervened, and the situation was under control.
Still confused by the adrenaline haze, Christie turned back to the woman checking her over. Had she spoken?
“I’m sorry?” she asked.
“I said, you did a great job,” the Raider said with a warm smile.
“Thank you,” Christie said, and felt like she wanted to throw up.
***
“All call-signs—Hera! I say again, Hera,” the radio in Kayla’s headset blared.
She punched the air as a rush of adrenaline and rage flooded her system. The operation was a success, and it felt great, but she still wanted to scream questions into her mic. Had anyone been hurt? What had happened to Christie? Was Rayker dead?
“Get some,” Ray said out loud, as others nodded.
“Stay frosty,” Kes snapped. “Watch your sectors. This isn’t over yet.”
Kayla silenced her mind and focused her eyes on the grounds of the nearby chateau. The perimeter formed by the squad of Rangers was intended to keep Rayker from escaping. But there was still the possibility that rogue security or guests could have slipped through the control of the chateau’s assaulters. If anyone made it through the mountains and back to civilization, they would begin to spread word about an attack by an unknown force and rumors would quickly circulate in Helvetic society.
Kayla didn’t think this would be such an awful development. The Helvetic League was an imperial power, intent on subjugating every human world to their control. Her home-world of Caldera was already in their tightening grip. Though she had sworn her allegiance to an organization that protected all of humanity, she couldn’t help but question her choice. Did Valkyrie have to be so aloof? Weren’t there evils threatening to engulf the human race from within?
But she kept her doubts to herself, and only shared her agonizing with the eternally patient Thandi.
Something made her glance upward, and she saw a star moving across the night sky, visible through her infra-red vizor. At first, she thought it was a nice symbol to end the mission under, but it began to change direction. With a start, Kayla saw that it was much closer than she had guessed, moving incredibly fast, and heading straight for the chateau. She tried to key her mic, but, before she could speak, the object impacted the south wall, where the Raiders and Christie had taken down Rayker.
Kayla slammed her faceplate up, and watched in horror as bright orange fire blossomed into the night. The whole squad was transfixed in silence, before they were hit by a sonic boom from the object’s flight, followed by the boom of the explosion.
“What the—” Thandi began.
“Viper two,” Kes said into her headset. “Viper two-one. We just saw what looked like a missile strike against the objective. What’s going on?”
Kayla’s heart raced. Her vision darkened around the edges and she felt herself flushing with heat. Smoke belched into the sky, while flames were already reaching the chateau’s upper floors. Christie had been near the impact point, and Urtiga, her mentor, and the woman who had recruited her into Valkyrie. In her mind she saw them laying on the ground, unconscious, as fire crept towards their bodies.
She became vaguely aware that Kes had said something to her, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Thandi repeated the question, but Kayla shook her head, without knowing why.
“No,” she said. “No.”
And then the squad was behind her, fading into the distance. She was sprinting, legs pumping as hard and fast as her nanite enhanced muscles could manage. She raced for the chateau wall, ignoring the outburst of yelling in her headset that had become as meaningless as static.
Kayla ran until her lungs ached and her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. She covered the half-mile to the building in less than two minutes, and when she reached its walls she jumped for a first floor window frame. Outstretched fingers grasped at the smooth metal lining, but didn’t slip. She had been a strong climber since she had learned to walk, and the chateau’s structure, with its ornate façade and prominent stone slabs, wasn’t much of a challenge.
Smoke was billowing out from a hole in the fourth floor, and she moved as close as she could. She managed to haul herself over a balcony, and smashed through a locked door into a noisy haze. Guests were screaming in terror, while robotic voices yelled commands as the Raiders tried to get control of the situation.
Thick fumes made Kayla’s eyes smart, and she dropped her vizor, selecting infra-red. Further down the corridor, an intense heat source glowed through the hellish obscurity. Kayla headed straight for it. Wherever the other Valkyrie had been, she knew she had to go to the point of impact first. That would be where she would find the most severe casualties.
A sharp scream made her skin crawl, and she rounded a corner, only for her display to blind her with white light. She flipped her vizor to see a ghastly scene. The missile had destroyed the balcony and hallway, leaving a dark void visible through the ragged hole. Fire crawled up the walls, while black suited bodies carpeted the floor. Rayker was crouching among them, blackened with soot and covered in blood. She held one of her spikes like a dagger, ready to strike. With her other hand, she had seized hold of another, buried in a fallen body. She tugged at the needle and pulled it free, then stood to see Kayla staring directly at her.
Kayla shivered in her glare of manic rage.
In the split seconds that followed, years of training came to her aid. Before she could even think her hands were moving, ignoring the stun rifle that hung from her back, and seizing hold of the pistol in her leg holster.
She sidestepped as Rayker flung a spike towards her that buried itself several inches into the wall. Kayla’s gun, almost of its own volition, rose up to her chest and began to orient towards her enemy. Even before she was aware of the sights in her vision, Kayla was pulling the trigger, sending rounds down the hallway in a gradually tightening circle.
The flash and kick of the weapon appeared to pass in slow motion, but Rayker was already moving, darting away from the bullets. Kayla tried to adjust, but she was too slow, and watched helplessly as the most dangerous woman in the galaxy flung herself out into the night. She hung for a brief instant, like a high-diver, and then fell, straight down through the waterfall into the valley below.
Kayla felt a click, and shifted her eyes from the empty sky to see her pistol’s slide locked back. Then she refocused onto the pile of bodies before her.
“Hey?” she called. “Is anyone alive?”
She started to drag bodies as fast as she could away from the flames, hoping that someone had remained conscious.
“Kayla?” a soft voice called from somewhere out of sight.
Kayla wiped away tears and raced forward. She dug beneath an unconscious pair of Raiders until she found a pale, unprotected arm. Then she hauled, until a cursing, soot blackened and shaking Christie emerged.
“Jesus, are you okay? What the hell happened?” Kayla asked.
Christie coughed and spluttered but waved away the concerned and probing hands that were checking her for injuries.
“Call the medics in,” she said.
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Prequel (Chapters 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie

[TLDR: I'm afraid of MIL+partner, and have to choose between attending important event at my own(!) indie art gallery (the same place they previously threw a tantrum at me with people present, which they didn't acknowledge or apologize for) where they plan to be attending, and risk hurting myself..., or do I stay away & keep myself out of this threatening situation, which means hurting people I care for? Both might endanger the work I built and love, but not sure which is more likely]
Let me first of all get my imposter dysphoria out of the way: I self diagnosed ADHD at 32 and now, at 36, finally moving past the gatekeeping trolls of classical autism. Despite (clueless) people laughing at me for wondering whether I might be autistic: Sorry not sorry I'm calling AuDHD. This. Explains. Everything. But I guess my masking skills are on Olympic qualification level.
So I'm still in a deep dive of information gathering, listing everything and making sense of who I actually am, and being so relieved and sad after all these years of not understanding what's wrong with me. So amazing to experience these developments in psychology and social sciences, and the more nuanced views on AuDHD, all made possible through world wide conversation and sharing between marginalised people. A revolution of sorts!
I'm still in some sort of identity crisis and very much traumatized by the millions of hours of therapy I struggled though, trying to work on my depression and personality... Always thinking I'm doing something wrong. So much work. Fun times.
Anyway: now you know where I am: part of the reason I didn't find out sooner, is because I've been living with an amazing & autistic husband for about 17 years: he didn't really know either, so we both thought a lot of Autistic things were super normal haha. My family; yup, same. His family; even deeper in the spectrum-soup. All this didn't become clear until this year, me being the last piece of the puzzle, so to speak. Me; being the extraverted, chronically ill, artistic, tired, depressed, funny, queer, unorganized people pleaser trying to keep everyone together and falling apart. Them: ...
Let me tell you, it's a long story. I'll try and keep it as short as possible.
My husband (M35) and I (NB36) have always been living and moving around in the same art scene, in the same big city as MIL (F63) and her wife (F51) of 12 years. (MIL's wife has never been a mother figure to either of us, they only got together a couple of years after husband and me met. My relationship with her has always been complicated and fragile, but it all went really south when her then-girlfriend moved in with her. I'll save you the joke, but it was quick.)
They're a smart and impressive but explosive couple, always arguing and losing friends and making enemies all around town. They don't seem to notice. Meanwhile they have been projecting all their insecurities and rejection sensitive dysphoria on me, trying to become more close like a proper cool artsy clan, with frequent outbursts of anger, despair, taking offense with things I didn't see coming. Never thinking for a moment about their part in all this, or how they push her son and me away with all the drama and fighting, with a reconciliation of sorts every 2 years, usually in the shape of me sort of apologising or letting things that hurt me slide, to keep the peace. They are not open to feedback or positive criticism; the few times I stood up for myself, asking for the fat shaming or harsh critique of my art to stop, they cried and got angry about being accused of something, and me limiting their free speech as well. Every time I've told them about my low self esteem, depression and struggles with pain and low energy, and every time they see me they say: oh you really look better now, so nice that you're a bit more healthy. Loving and well meaning, I'm sure. But very invalidating, and I try saying tactfully that I have my ups and downs, unfortunately. They have told my husband I'm always defensive. (Well, now I guess I must come across that way, even though to me that seemed unlikely. That's AuDHD for ya!)
Last three appointments I was about 10 minutes- half an hour late (let them know by message but they didn't see the last time) due to severe panic attacks, and they got angry I'm always late, saying it must be because I don't like them, and started screaming and crying right there in the restaurant. When I tried to save the situation by confessing I get anxious about what to wear, not wanting to look fat (which is hard because I am, and even when I wasn't, MIL always made clear she thought I was), and also being afraid about them getting angry. (Irony.) Well that didn't work, shocks, they have been saying I hate them and don't want to be with them (!) and gloriously fulfilled their own prophecy.
To top it all off, they came to our small indie gallery a couple of weeks ago, they started almost immediately crying (MIL) and hissing at me, seemingly out of nowhere (although they told my husband I hurt them by shoving in their faces about how we loved my family more...)
I guess they referred to: me telling them I had to leave, talking enthusiasticly about the trip we were taking to meet my niece for her 16th birthday, and how we had trouble taking time off from work, but my niece really wasn't doing well mentally so my cousin was grateful we could be there, planning the party around our work schedule! You know, me putting on a mask by being all bubbly and agreeable... Honestly forgetting about their RSD! (I understand why, now)
So that's when they started crying and cursing at me right there and then, in the middle of our small art gallery, surrounded by two horrified visitors, one artist and our new employee. I froze, think I said something along the lines of: " this is not something to discuss here" and ran to the storage room, sobbing in some paper towels and feeling like trash. The artist came after me, consoling me and saying that was weird as duck. When I came out, they had left. My husband immediately after I told him sent them a text: "please don't treat my wife like that. We'll talk later, I can't now." That felt good.
Didn't hear from them until after our weekend away, when my husband told me they invited themselves over to celebrate his birthday that weekend and he couldn't really help it. That sucked. I didn't dare calling (so much anxiety) so wrote them an email carefully wording how I was still shaking from our encounter, and how I was sad about our clashing, saying we should meet up and talk about it when we were all ready to do so; but for this birthday celebration, I wouldn't be able to be present without talking about what happened honestly, and would hate for my husbands birthday to be weighed down by that. I suggested to make myself scarce and leave them be, and asked them to name a date and place to talk it all through. Before you ask: I was careful not to include angry or passive-aggressive remarks, I even asked a friend to check for that specifically. (Had to edit a bit haha) I did this for my husband to not ruin his relationship with his mother, and because I feel sad for her. Even though I felt like betraying my self worth a bit, and had to really censure myself. But hey, I'm used to that!
On the one hand; with my -since then- discovered AuDHD, I must admit I am probably less good at reading and interpreting and projecting certain social cues or body language. On the other hand: keep in mind everyone in this story is definitely (undiagnosed) autistic.
It has been exhausting and frankly I'm ready to throw in the towel and bow out of social gatherings. I love my MIL but I'm tired of her, and I'm actually afraid of what her wife is capable of, she can become very angry, not only with me, actually there's always someone she will rant about quite intensely. Actually, my husband and them decided that would be for the best, when I wasn't there, last week.
And now for the twist: there's an opening in our gallery this afternoon (EU), and the girls are coming... Or so they told my husband anyway. It's an important local artist and they really care about being at these events. I want to go. I'm tired but wouldn't want to miss it. The artist is quite a good friend of mine and to top it off, I'm an auntie to her children, who I haven't seen in a while and would be very disappointed if I weren't there. Also: it's MY ducking gallery, MY exhibition, MY friend and her amazing kids who would be so disappointed and possibly hurt... Also also I feel like a jerk leaving all the work to my husband+employee. This is our biggest opening yet!
I can't imagine not going.
To be fair: my husband has offered to ask them not to come, but added that it would make things more difficult between them. He says I could always go for a stroll and avoid them. But I have been anxious for weeks now about them being capable of attacking me in broad daylight, and now it's not just two customers and my friend, but possibly the complete metropolitan art scene.
What do I do? Take the risk? Accept the exhaustion and humiliation and possibly having to recover for days? (Did I mention I have two more gallery days ahead of me, only just having found out how much it takes out of me to be there?) Please help me make a sensible decision, my people! I know there's no one perfect solution for everything (do I?) but it feels like a pivotal moment...

Prequel (Parts 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
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After a little polite small talk, she let him hang for a while, occasionally offering eye contact and a warm smile. Rayker prowled frequently through the room, casting brief glances at Kolar, and Christie reminded herself not to overdo it.
As she watched the dark figure stalk away again, she escalated her apparent state of inebriation. Muttering something about the restroom, she stepped forward and jostled the unhappy looking Kolar, spilling his drink all over his badly fitted tuxedo.
“God I’m SOOO sorry,” wailed Christie, smothering the appalled man’s crotch with a napkin. “Come out into the air to let it dry.”
She dragged him, protesting furiously, out of the main room towards a quiet balcony. A pair of guards looked in on them, then moved away in embarrassment.
“We can’t go back in until it’s dried,” she declared. “What will people think? They’ll say we were—oh well you know.” She cackled.
Kolar stood helpless. “I wouldn’t dream of—totally unthinkable.” He stammered.
“Oh my deeeaaaar!” Christie cooed. “Are you saying I’m ugly?”
“Absolutely not, you are… very beautiful.”
Christie stared into his eyes with the most seductive expression of gratitude she could muster. Then she turned back to the dark mountains beyond.
“This is such a lovely spot, isn’t it?” she sighed, and took out her lipstick.
A furious looking Rayker strode out from the balcony’s doors.
“Doctor Kolar,” she snapped. “Please return with me to the main room immediately. Your behavior is entirely inappropriate. Leave this… this girl to make a fool of herself somewhere else.”
Kolar’s frightened eyes jumped from Christie’s sly grin to Rayker’s terrifying expression.
Out of options, Christie decided to go for broke. “God you’re such a bore, aren’t you, Ranky? Frigid old woman. Why don’t you let the fellow enjoy himself?” She reached a hand up to his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Rayker’s lips turned into a sneer. “You pathetic, drunken—”
She froze, suddenly alert as her eyes snapped around the balcony.
Christie almost wanted to grab Kolar and haul him backwards into the void. Below them, the waterfall fell away down a thousand-foot cliff. Her nanite enhanced body would survive the fall, and if she positioned herself to cushion Kolar, maybe he would too. She would be hospitalized for months, but anything was better than letting Rayker take her alive.
But the woman lunged forward with impossible speed and seized Christie’s neck. “Luring me outside, is that it?” she spat.
Christie was thrown bodily back into the hallway inside. She fought to regain her senses, but the cold fingers wrapped around her throat again, and she screamed as loudly as she could. On the balcony, a pale Kolar sank to the floor in shock.
“I don’t know what you are yet, you little whore,” Rayker hissed into Christie’s ear.
Her hand came up, and the flesh of her wrist ripped open to reveal a bloody cavity, and a needle sharp spike of bone, aimed at Christie’s forehead.
“But I think you’ll soon tell me everything I want to know.”
Christie screamed again, and tried to kick her captor. She probably ought to pretend to faint, but there was no way she could fool Rayker. What the hell had she seen to tip her off? How much longer before it would all be over?
A breathless guard raced into the hallway and stopped, going pale as he caught sight of Rayker.
“What is it?” she snapped impatiently.
The guard blinked, pulled his gaze away from the woman’s mutated arm and began to speak. “There’s—”
The lights went out, and they were plunged into darkness. Christie heard the distant whir of something sliding fast down a rope.
The pressure on her throat vanished and she collapsed to the ground, just as the windows exploded. Black shapes poured into the hallway. There was a whir, a wet thunk, and a cut off scream, followed by a clatter of silenced gunshots. Christie curled into a ball to protect herself, and out of the corner of her eye she saw something like a giant spider climb onto the ceiling before reaching out an arm.
A black weapon spat another burst of fire. There was a rasping gurgle and Rayker’s body fell to the ground.
Boots stomped back and forth in a chaos of movement. As her spinning mind’s revolutions began to slow, Christie felt a firm hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her upright.
Nearby, a black-suited soldier strode away. “Target secured,” it said, in the harsh rasp of a machine voice.
Christie found herself sat upright, staring into a bug-eyed metal vizor.
“Clear! Move to the main room!” someone else announced.
The vizor slid upwards to reveal the grim face of a woman she didn’t recognize, staring at her in concern. “Are you hurt soldier?” she asked.
Christie shook her head. “I’m okay. Did someone…?”
“We have one casualty. Kolar’s secured, and Rayker is down for the count.”
Christie looked over and saw a blood-stained body in a heap in the center of the hallway. Two armed, masked figures stood over it, weapons aimed firmly. Nearby, the security guards had been bound and blindfolded.
By the balcony entrance, one of the Valkyrie had collapsed against a wall with a spike buried in her chest. As Christie stared at her, the facemask slid up to reveal the pale, gasping face of Urtiga, the Raider team’s senior NCO. Urtiga caught her eye, and winked through her grimace of pain.
Down the hall she could hear the steel-faced soldiers flooding the rooms, demanding, in robotic tones, compliance from the guests. There had been a terrorist attack in the area, they explained, but security had intervened, and the situation was under control.
Still confused by the adrenaline haze, Christie turned back to the woman checking her over. Had she spoken?
“I’m sorry?” she asked.
“I said, you did a great job,” the Raider said with a warm smile.
“Thank you,” Christie said, and felt like she wanted to throw up.
***
“All call-signs—Hera! I say again, Hera,” the radio in Kayla’s headset blared.
She punched the air as a rush of adrenaline and rage flooded her system. The operation was a success, and it felt great, but she still wanted to scream questions into her mic. Had anyone been hurt? What had happened to Christie? Was Rayker dead?
“Get some,” Ray said out loud, as others nodded.
“Stay frosty,” Kes snapped. “Watch your sectors. This isn’t over yet.”
Kayla silenced her mind and focused her eyes on the grounds of the nearby chateau. The perimeter formed by the squad of Rangers was intended to keep Rayker from escaping. But there was still the possibility that rogue security or guests could have slipped through the control of the chateau’s assaulters. If anyone made it through the mountains and back to civilization, they would begin to spread word about an attack by an unknown force and rumors would quickly circulate in Helvetic society.
Kayla didn’t think this would be such an awful development. The Helvetic League was an imperial power, intent on subjugating every human world to their control. Her home-world of Caldera was already in their tightening grip. Though she had sworn her allegiance to an organization that protected all of humanity, she couldn’t help but question her choice. Did Valkyrie have to be so aloof? Weren’t there evils threatening to engulf the human race from within?
But she kept her doubts to herself, and only shared her agonizing with the eternally patient Thandi.
Something made her glance upward, and she saw a star moving across the night sky, visible through her infra-red vizor. At first, she thought it was a nice symbol to end the mission under, but it began to change direction. With a start, Kayla saw that it was much closer than she had guessed, moving incredibly fast, and heading straight for the chateau. She tried to key her mic, but, before she could speak, the object impacted the south wall, where the Raiders and Christie had taken down Rayker.
Kayla slammed her faceplate up, and watched in horror as bright orange fire blossomed into the night. The whole squad was transfixed in silence, before they were hit by a sonic boom from the object’s flight, followed by the boom of the explosion.
“What the—” Thandi began.
“Viper two,” Kes said into her headset. “Viper two-one. We just saw what looked like a missile strike against the objective. What’s going on?”
Kayla’s heart raced. Her vision darkened around the edges and she felt herself flushing with heat. Smoke belched into the sky, while flames were already reaching the chateau’s upper floors. Christie had been near the impact point, and Urtiga, her mentor, and the woman who had recruited her into Valkyrie. In her mind she saw them laying on the ground, unconscious, as fire crept towards their bodies.
She became vaguely aware that Kes had said something to her, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Thandi repeated the question, but Kayla shook her head, without knowing why.
“No,” she said. “No.”
And then the squad was behind her, fading into the distance. She was sprinting, legs pumping as hard and fast as her nanite enhanced muscles could manage. She raced for the chateau wall, ignoring the outburst of yelling in her headset that had become as meaningless as static.
Kayla ran until her lungs ached and her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. She covered the half-mile to the building in less than two minutes, and when she reached its walls she jumped for a first floor window frame. Outstretched fingers grasped at the smooth metal lining, but didn’t slip. She had been a strong climber since she had learned to walk, and the chateau’s structure, with its ornate façade and prominent stone slabs, wasn’t much of a challenge.
Smoke was billowing out from a hole in the fourth floor, and she moved as close as she could. She managed to haul herself over a balcony, and smashed through a locked door into a noisy haze. Guests were screaming in terror, while robotic voices yelled commands as the Raiders tried to get control of the situation.
Thick fumes made Kayla’s eyes smart, and she dropped her vizor, selecting infra-red. Further down the corridor, an intense heat source glowed through the hellish obscurity. Kayla headed straight for it. Wherever the other Valkyrie had been, she knew she had to go to the point of impact first. That would be where she would find the most severe casualties.
A sharp scream made her skin crawl, and she rounded a corner, only for her display to blind her with white light. She flipped her vizor to see a ghastly scene. The missile had destroyed the balcony and hallway, leaving a dark void visible through the ragged hole. Fire crawled up the walls, while black suited bodies carpeted the floor. Rayker was crouching among them, blackened with soot and covered in blood. She held one of her spikes like a dagger, ready to strike. With her other hand, she had seized hold of another, buried in a fallen body. She tugged at the needle and pulled it free, then stood to see Kayla staring directly at her.
Kayla shivered in her glare of manic rage.
In the split seconds that followed, years of training came to her aid. Before she could even think her hands were moving, ignoring the stun rifle that hung from her back, and seizing hold of the pistol in her leg holster.
She sidestepped as Rayker flung a spike towards her that buried itself several inches into the wall. Kayla’s gun, almost of its own volition, rose up to her chest and began to orient towards her enemy. Even before she was aware of the sights in her vision, Kayla was pulling the trigger, sending rounds down the hallway in a gradually tightening circle.
The flash and kick of the weapon appeared to pass in slow motion, but Rayker was already moving, darting away from the bullets. Kayla tried to adjust, but she was too slow, and watched helplessly as the most dangerous woman in the galaxy flung herself out into the night. She hung for a brief instant, like a high-diver, and then fell, straight down through the waterfall into the valley below.
Kayla felt a click, and shifted her eyes from the empty sky to see her pistol’s slide locked back. Then she refocused onto the pile of bodies before her.
“Hey?” she called. “Is anyone alive?”
She started to drag bodies as fast as she could away from the flames, hoping that someone had remained conscious.
“Kayla?” a soft voice called from somewhere out of sight.
Kayla wiped away tears and raced forward. She dug beneath an unconscious pair of Raiders until she found a pale, unprotected arm. Then she hauled, until a cursing, soot blackened and shaking Christie emerged.
“Jesus, are you okay? What the hell happened?” Kayla asked.
Christie coughed and spluttered but waved away the concerned and probing hands that were checking her for injuries.
“Call the medics in,” she said.
First ¦ Previous ¦ Next ¦ Royal Road ¦ Patreon
Prequel (Parts 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie

TL;DR at the bottom.
Hello Everyone,
Long time lurker, first time poster.
I (26F) has always been fat. I have never been perceived as thin or even average. Always the "Big girl"
Not a day has passed by without me thinking about weight loss.
It wasn't just thoughts either. I have taken action. I have worked out and I have tried intermittent fasting and I was quite consistent with both.
But the problem was, I am an emotional eater. I eat when I'm happy, I eat when I'm sad. I eat when I am angry. Hell, I eat when I'm ashamed of how much I eat. I can never control my portions nor the sugar intake.
I even gave up at some point. What with the stretch marks and the unavoidable lose skin, I'm never gonna feel good even when I lose weight. What's the point in struggling?
But the beginning of this month, a thought slowly started bugging me. My 27th birthday is coming up in August. Am I healthy enough to grow older comfortably? or at least without struggling too much..
Don't ask me if I have never thought about my health before. Let's just say that I was in denial about how much my weight and my body fat percentage would affect my wellbeing. I couldn't shake this thought off. So I did something that I have been dreading for a long time. I had a full body health check up.
And my worst fear came true. It's now or never. My body was I dire need of attention.
Seeing the proof changed something in me. I'm going to prioritize my health now. I'm doing this for myself and not for outside validation. I can do it. Most importantly, I want to do it.
Here are my current body pictures, the check up results and my smart scale measurement - The three signs for me to change myself.
TL ; DR - The reason I'm starting again is because I had a full body health check and the results gave me a reality check

TL;DR at the bottom.
Hello Everyone,
Long time lurker, first time poster.
Let me start by saying how much this community means to me. Every time someone has posted about their weight loss journey, I can understand their struggles and their feelings. I feel seen without ever having posted anything about myself. I feel heard without having reached out. The happiness and the motivation I get when someone accomplished their goals is something that I cannot express through words. This community has given me warmth to my heart and soul. I truly love you all ❤️
End of cheesy but true outpour of love.
Now coming to the point.
I (26F) has always been fat. I have never been perceived as thin or even average. Always the "Big girl"
Not a day has passed by without me thinking about weight loss.
It wasn't just thoughts either. I have taken action. I have worked out and I have tried intermittent fasting and I was quite consistent with both.
But the problem was, I am an emotional eater. I eat when I'm happy, I eat when I'm sad. I eat when I am angry. Hell, I eat when I'm ashamed of how much I eat. I can never control my portions nor the sugar intake.
I even gave up at some point. What with the stretch marks and the unavoidable lose skin, I'm never gonna feel good even when I lose weight. What's the point in struggling?
But the beginning of this month, a thought slowly started bugging me. My 27th birthday is coming up in August. Am I healthy enough to grow older comfortably? or at least without struggling too much..
Don't ask me if I have never thought about my health before. Let's just say that I was in denial about how much my weight and my body fat percentage would affect my wellbeing. I couldn't shake this thought off. So I did something that I have been dreading for a long time. I had a full body health check up.
And my worst fear came true. It's now or never. My body was I dire need of attention.
Seeing the proof changed something in me. I'm going to prioritize my health now. I'm doing this for myself and not for outside validation. I can do it. Most importantly, I want to do it.
Here are my current body pictures, the check up results and my smart scale measurement - The three signs for me to change myself.
TL ; DR - The reason I'm starting again is because I had a full body health check and the results gave me a reality check

FIRST CHAPTER
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
This product is a fanfic of the Sexy Space Babes/Between Worlds product of u/Bluefishcake and one I highly suggest you read. It was created with permission, but give the OG works some love.
Imgr gallery of Comissioned and Fan Artworks
I'm Back Bitches! Again!
//////////
Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero knelt before a semi-sparking control panel and sighed. She, and a large band of her fellow Engineers with Marine support, had boarded the pirate frigate with the singular goal of ensuring that the pirates didn’t scuttle their floating hulk and doom the slaves aboard to a, if they were lucky, a swift death in space.
The problem, of course, came with the pirate’s maintenance schedules and decisions to forgo certain… safety measures when it came to repair.
Like the panel before her. Usually a perfectly functional control system for the reverse-magnetic bulkhead doors that ensured void seals in power outages, some pirate at some point in their dumb, dumb life decided to fix the panel blowing a fuse… by ripping the fuse out and replacing it with a high density power cable. Which meant the entire thing was one massive shock hazard and actively sparking as the reactors deep in the ship flickered and surged due to damage.
Che’keero swore as an arc of electricity flashed towards her face after a tool that was not supposed to be magnetized, cheap dick WaDepth requisitions, caught a magnetic field, fusing the entire system shut and turning the formerly barely functional control system into nothing but pretty, decorative wiring and cheap solder. She punched the now utterly unfunctional control box and toggled on her radio. “Three-Two to Three-Lead, this door’s fried. You’ll need to bring in the cutters if we want to get to the rest of the ship. Might as well also bring in an inflatable airlock, I’m not liking how some of the metal strain sensors are flashing at me.”
A semi-synthetic voice replied back to Che’keero, “Three-Lead copies. I’ll be over there shortly with the stuff. Double check those sensors, I’m not getting the same readings, so let’s make sure something isn’t blocking errors from reaching me.”
“Copy that Three-Lead, Three-Two ou-” Something tapped against the back of her helmet and Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero mentally swore.
“Now, now, lassie, how about you sit right there and don’t move.” A nasally, unfamiliar voice called out to her while tapping what a camera she set up to watch her back revealed to be a laser pistol to Che’keero’s helmet. “I think that you’re going to be our new best friend and way off this dead end ship.”
Che’keero paused, letting the situation settle in her mind, “Wait, what? Are… are you taking me hostage?”
“Yes!” The pirate replied.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you taking me hostage? This won’t work, none of the shuttles are jump capable and if you try anything, you’ll just end up jumped by marines. They specifically train to deal with pirates taking their engineers hostage. If you want to survive, you should just surrender and take the penal colony when it’s offered.” Che’keero mentioned, shrugging and continuing her inspection of the door.
The pirate seemed baffled at the sheer nonchalance of this response, the pistol slowly falling to merely point at her upper back instead of her head, “You… you really aren’t taking this seriously. I’m a pirate! I’ve killed people! I’ve killed boys, and you’re just sitting there like this doesn’t mean anything!”
“I mean… I wouldn’t say that.” Che’keero replied.
“THEN WHAT DO YOU MEAN!” The pirate screamed, the pistol moving away from Che’keero’s body by a fraction of an inch during an angry gesture.
It was at that point, a ceramic alloyed, carbon steel blade punched clean through the back of the pirate’s suit, slicing through their central nervous system and striking with enough force to shatter the faceplate of said pirate’s helmet on the way out. Muscles twitching, the laser pistol fired off randomly, missing Che’keero and slagging a chunk of bulkhead.
“I’m just buying time,” Che’keero replied cheekily.
“You really need to remember to check your cameras,” The semi-synthetic voice of Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns commented as the ex-pirate fell to the ground and blue blood dripped from the long blade sprouting from her right arm and a toolbox hanging from her left hand. “This isn’t the first time you have been flanked, and this one wasn’t during training.”
“Look, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Che’keero replied a bit testily.
“I’m sorry…” Ventures Forth prodded.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.”
“Much better. Right, now what do we see in this- yeah you were right on it being fried.” Ventures Forth gently shoved the Junior Systems Engineer aside and took her place at the control panel. “Do a sweep of the strain systems. I don’t want this section of the ship breaking apart. Feel free to call up our hull patches. We’ve got plenty to share and this might have to be a lifeboat.”
“Aye, ma’am aye,” Che’keero replied with a crisp salute before rushing off to her duty.
Deeper inside the ship, Ventures Forth could hear laser fire, clashing of metal on metal, and cries for help.
The pirate ship was doomed, it was shattered and broken, but it was not destroyed. Not yet. \
And if she had her way, Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns would keep it that way.
//////////
Roshal stood still as her steward continued to clean the dark blue and rapidly congealing blood off her armored form. “Comms,” She called out, “Do we have any contact with the shuttle we sent to the station?”
“Negative, ma’am.” The comm officer replied. She wasn’t the same one that was present when Roshal left to fend off the boarders. At the unspoken question, the woman continued “Communication’s Mate Second Class Lev’tal, ma’am. My superior got a concussion when the pirate ship rocked our ship during boarding. Strap snapped, prior damage. I took over.”
Roshal nodded approvingly, “Good initiative. Send a message to the station, see if we can’t rai-”
“Ma’am! Contact!” One of her sensor techs called out, “Belay that, two contacts. First contact, nav point 782 spinward, possible bogey, cruiser weight. Unknown movements. Second contact, nav point 102 coreward, aerospace assets inbound. Small flight. Hard to determine numbers due to damage. No less than two, no more than five.”
“Focus on getting a hard contact on that possible cruiser. Weapons, what is the status of our anti-aerospace.” Roshal demanded, holding her sword arm out for the steward to scrub at a particularly clotted chunk of blood splattered over her wrist.
The weapons officer shook her head, “If we’re lucky, then we’ve got 20% coverage on half our sides. If we’re very lucky, I might be able to bump that number up to 35%. Not going to quote doctrine, but that’s not nearly enough to fend off a flight of Aerospace assets on a strike run, and that’s assuming they don’t hit us on an unprotected flank.”
Roshal nodded once more, “Sound general quarters and get weapons and tactical back online. Tell the damage control parties to not be distracted and focus on critical systems first. Engine room, report. Can you give me maneuvering thrust?”
The nearby ship phone chimed in with a staticy hiss, “Negative, ma’am. The shot we made with the spinal mount tripped breakers up and down the reactor room. This isn’t an engine problem, we need to make sure our reactor doesn’t blow up when we siphon power. Before you ask, emergency power is still flowing and none of their circuits tripped, but that means we’re down to life support, basic systems, and dockyard thrusters. It will take at least 20 to get the reactor in a safe state. If you want 10, send the chaplain down so we have someone praying for good luck. The fact most of our structural engineers are doing an EVA boarding to ensure the pirate ship next to us doesn’t go critical and render the entire exercise moot isn’t helping matters at all.” The engine room replied Roshal bit down a bit of annoyance at the snark, but engineers were always a finicky sort with authority. They were the first to remind uptight officers that while the Captain’s word may be iron law, it was their work that truly moved the ship.
“Confirmed, engine room.” Roshal instead replied. “Chaplains will be arriving shortly. Do what you can and inform me when you’re three minutes out from full power.”
The engine room didn’t even bother replying, just sending over the affirmative light as they got to work. Roshal approved of that. Sometimes, you just had to insult someone in order to get it working right.
“Captain, we have confirmation on contact. He’s an Alliance Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser on intercept course. Energy readings are spiking… they’re charging their guns, ma’am!”
“Issue a hostile challenge and give me a firing solution with any gun still functional.”
“No response, ma’am. Hostile Karcharidon is increasing speed. Hard contact in 15 minutes.”
Roshal snarled, emotion breaking through her mask. “Of course, the pirates had one more vessel. Helm, fire our maneuvering thrusters, use the pirate hulk as cover. Weapons, get whoever’s left of our Interceptor flight to engage the enemy. Comms, get me in contact with the merchant fleet, tell them to evacuate. We’ll provide cover.”
“Aye ma’am.” The Communications Mate Second Class said with a shiver in her voice. “Sending-”
“Update on Aerospace assets!” Her sensor tech called out.
“Deliver!” Roshal demanded, cutting off the comms officer with a slice of her hand.
“Weapons fire. Definitely less than four contacts. Seems to be two grou- negative, only two contacts remaining- weaponsfire- one contac- IFF received, oh goddesses, IT’S RUNOFF THREE! FRIENDLY AEROSPACE INBOUND!”
//////////
Milk gripped her crash harness hard as Cookie slammed the Interceptor’s fusion torch clean past its safe thrust marker and into the red as g forces crushed her chest. “Last target down.” She reported after Cookie’s final laser burst hit something critical inside the final Aerospace fighter’s frame. “That’s 20 for 20. All enemy bogeys down. All standard munitions are in the black. Static drive is 48%, dump core ejected. All we’ve got left is our ASM and front laser.”
Cookie flashed back an affirmative signal.
“We going for that cruiser?”
Another affirmative.
“Well, I’m braced and ready on the release. Ready.”
“Ready.” Cookie spoke, his voice horse.
It’s funny what people think when their lives are on the line. Because charging towards a fresh enemy Heavy Cruiser, nothing but a single anti-shipping missile worth a damn, no allied support but the faint glimmer in IFF screens of their fellow flight doing the same… all Aoibhinn McDermott could think of was a poem she had read at least a decade ago or more at the Naval Academy.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the Valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
//////////
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns could do nothing but furiously swear as the basic sensor system her engineering team had restored on the thoroughly ventilated secondary command bridge of the pirate hulk revealed an enemy Heavy Cruiser bearing down upon their homeship.
“Weapons are trashed. We cored their reactor, anyway.” One of the tangential engineers reported, “Other teams are calling in. Things are worse where they are. We’ve found the slaves, though, luckily it was one of the few airtight bays. Also, have some more captives, but that really doesn’t matter right now.”
“No shit.” Ventures Forth replied, “Can we do anything?”
The engineer looked back to her, visor depolarizing so the Gearschilde can look into the black and yellow eyes of her Shil coworker.
“Pray.” The woman replied simply.
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns did just that.
//////////
Low chanting filled the engine bay as a small group of priests stood around the engine praying to whichever god that would listen to allow them one more shot. One more fight.
Around them, black handed engineers scurried, ripping out blown fuses and replacing them with soldered in high strength wire. A final measure of desperation. Sparks flew as engineers swore and chaplains prayed, power still remaining in circuits needing to be bled out before bypasses could be installed, turning every bit of solder and every ripped out fuse into a deadly gamble.
Already, someone was lying on the ground, no longer twitching.
They didn’t have time to check on their fallen comrade, the work was too important.
A clock ticked down. Four minutes elapsed.
//////////
Lieutenant Commander Cenywyn swore as she watched Runoff 2 die.
Their single Interceptor had mistimed a maneuver and had been caught dead in the middle of an Anti-Aerospace array, shredded in an instant. The only consolation she could take was that, seeing as the first shot went clean through the cockpit, they didn’t even notice they died.
“Runoff 4, stay in formation.” She ordered over the radio, “We’ll lead you in for the run.”
“Yes ma’am.” The hesitant voice of Junior Flight Lieutenant Griogill replied. She swallowed, “We’re- we’re ready when you are.”
“No fear, Lieutenant,” Cenywyn called back to the child she was leading to her death. “We’re pilots in the Imperial Patrol. We do our duty. No fear.”
A clock ticked down. Six minutes elapsed.
//////////
“Talk to me!” The last remaining senior engineer in the reactor bay called out to anyone who was able to reply.
Someone, she didn’t even bother looking to see who, called back “We’ve bypassed 60% of the fuses. Should be able to give ourselves a burst of combat power. No more than 10 minutes of it before the entire system overheats and we either die, or the reactor shuts off.”
“Any chance we can get more than 10 minutes?”
“Not before that Heavy Cruiser delivers us straight to the stars.”
“Fuck it, good enough.” She slammed her fist on the ship phone’s dialing button resting near the console the engineer had just ripped the last safety override out of. “Captain. We’ve got your power. You give us the word, and we’ll give you ten minutes.”
//////////
Roshal breathed in, breathed out, and nodded. 10 minutes of combat power before the entire ship shut down into uselessness. She’d done more with less. She couldn’t remember when, but she had. Luckily, this was a Patrol Carrier instead of a standard ship, so it was more than capable of combat maneuvers with nothing but RCS thrusters. That should give her some time.
Movement, movement was going to be the key.
“Comms, tell the engineering crews on the hulk that they are ordered to figure out anything that could draw the attention of the Heavy Cruiser,” She began, “Systems, break our mooring lines. We’re going to have to split from the hulk. Helm, prepare for maneuvers. RCS only. We are going to have to do this carefully. Engineroom, prepare for power activation, but hold until my command.”
This needs to be perfect, Roshal thought, A single mistimed action ruins it all.
A clock ticked down. Ten minutes elapsed. The Karcharidon had entered maximum weapon’s range.
//////////
He of Slender Tail shivered where he stood. The secondary command bridge was silent as Roshal began giving orders to fight. This was… this was insane.
They were in a ruined ship with nothing but a merchant fleet beginning to flee and a three thirds dead pirate hulk on their side against a fresh Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser.
They couldn’t win.
This was suicide.
They would die here.
\ So why didn’t He of Slender Tail feel afraid?
He stood at his post, a secondary bridge console where he would relay orders to other departments, freeing up the other Watchkeeper to collate those orders, there was nothing he could do to help win this impossible battle, and yet…
And yet he felt heat blossoming inside his chest with every single order delivered.
“Mooring teamsss, you are to cut your linesss immediately.” He relayed to a crew of Shil scurrying around the ruined bulkheads, “Damage control, prepare for electrical firesss and arcsss.” He commanded, switching between teams instantly.
He didn’t feel fear. He could see his Watchkeeper shiver every time the sensors reported the enemy contact was still closing, but he didn’t feel the same.
What he felt… was indignation.
How dare this pirate scum threaten his vessel, his crew. How dare they ambush this valiant ship after they had fought so hard to win. How dare they.
He let his fangs fold out as he spat the next order, “Anti-Aerossspace teamsss, prepare your batteriesss for grouped fire. Gunnery calculationsss are on their way.”
How dare they stand up to him.
A clock ticked down. 12 minutes elapsed. Weapons fire.
//////////
Roshal swayed slightly as she could feel the ship beneath her feet move. Movement is life in naval warfare, movement is death. “Right RCS fire, bring us clear of the hulk. Bow thrusters, up twenty.”
“Aye, ma’am, aye, right standard and bow up twenty.” The Helmswoman replied.
“Confirmed. Next maneuver, give us rear thrust-”
“Torpedo!” The sensor operator called out in a shrill voice, “Two marks on intercept course! Range, twelve K and closing fast!”
“Decorum!” Roshal snapped at the panicking sensor technician. “Comms, order Runoff flight to divert and intercept those torpedoes. Rear RCS to full, give us momentum.”
Roshal turned away from the bridge as affirmations were shouted, and the ship began to move, “Engineering, prepare to activate combat power on my mark and prepare for hard maneuvers. Mark in five.”
//////////
Griogill swallowed bile and tried not to feel too thankful that the enemy vessel had fired torpedoes at their home ship. Being diverted from an attack run had a much higher chance of survival than striking through an AA bubble.
“Runoff 4 engaging far torpedo. Moving in for intercept. Bre’kas, give me lock.”
Griogill’s backseater muttered something, and a target lock appeared on the far torpedo as Runoff 1, their previous Drill Sergeants, dashed by in a hard burn and blazed away at their own target.
“Right. We can do this. We can do this. No fear.” The rookie muttered as the sight of her friends in Runoff 3 being turned to vapor echoed in her mind. “I can do this.”
The target locked. She fired. The torpedo detonated.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in four.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser loomed closer as the comparatively tiny Patrol Carrier spat its defiance in the form of two Interceptors dancing between the stars.
As a pair of torpedoes detonated, four more were launched, the anti-shipping weapons built for this specific purpose. Destroying disabled vessels.
And so the last two remaining Interceptors on CAP dove into the fray, risking themselves against an ever approaching AA bubble in order to save their ship.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in three.”
//////////
All Cookie could do was stare and push his meager aerospace fighter further on its nuclear thrusters as shimmering dots of torpedoes lanced out from the Heavy Cruiser attacking his new home.
He pushed his hand forward and felt the throttle once more push back against him, the lever pushed all the way past safe thrust and into the further setting on his console.
The Interceptor was fast. It didn’t feel fast enough.
And so he spoke the words he spoke once before, back when he’d had to listen to his backseater’s screams of pain and the rush of wind after shrapnel pierced his fuselage, and the hospital was so, so far away.
Father, I pray that you will not hide your face from me. Whenever I pray, Lord please hear me and answer me speedily in Jesus' name. God, I pray that you will grant me speed through your help.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in two.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser shifted, engine flaring and it began to close the range. A single disabled ship on emergency RCS thrusters and a pair of Aerospace fighters was nothing it would have to deal with.
It fired a third spread of torpedoes.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
They took the bait. Roshal thought with a vicious grin.
“Mark in one.” She paused, “Execute.”
In an instant, power flowed through the ship, emergency lights flickered off as the burning red boarding lights returned their fiery glow. The entire ship shook as the main thruster came back online, and capacitors began to charge for maneuvers.
“Hard burn, full thrusters, right, on my mark.” Roshal watched as the Heavy Cruiser began to react to her movements, the enemy ship was alive, you needed to roll to broadsides to begin bombardment, come on come on…
Roshal watched as a torpedo flickered out of existence, Runoff 4 gaining another kill.
Come on, dammit, you don’t get put in charge of a Heavy Cruiser without- THERE!
The Heavy Cruiser flinched, turning her bow away from the no longer stricken vessel, preparing for broadside.
The Captain’s grin showed more teeth than smile. “Execute! Full right thrust!”
“Full right thrust! Aye ma’am aye!” Her helmswoman called out as maneuvering thrusters dead cold roared to life and physically threw the vessel to the side, causing everyone not strapped in on the bridge to rock as a barrage of fire flew past their former location, manual targeting systems in play since the automatic systems would still be getting warmed up.
“Full thrust forward, prepare to divert all power to secondary weapons. Weapons, give me a firing solution.” Roshal commanded, hand raised and pointed at the enemy’s display as if she were commanding from a tall ship.
A chant of “Aye ma’am aye” flowed out across the bridge as the weaponsmistress was silent before calling out. “Port side is up to 45% secondary fires and 32% point defense. That’ll be our best bet.”
Roshal nodded. “Make it so. Target their main weapons. Helm, get us that facing.”
“Ma’am. We’re getting a call from Runoff 3. They are entering the AO and are asking for a target.”
Roshal smiled, “Weapons, shift target. Aim for the anti-aerospace systems. Let’s give Runoff 3 the opening they need.”
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Cookie, we’ve got a targeting path.” Milk called forward. “Putting it up on your HUD.”
“One second… I’ve got it. Moving to comply. Did the Captain give us a plan?” her front seater replied, causing her stomach to do funny things as the Aerospace Fighter maneuvered while under high thrust.
“Something like that. She asked for a munitions report and specifically about our anti-shipping weapon.”
Cookie paused.
“Ah.” He finally said.
“Yeah.” She replied.
“Well, let’s hope they’re able to open us up to a window of opportunity. Or this will be a short charge.”
“Not our place to question why.”
“Just our place to do and die.”
Time to target… three minutes.
Into the valley of Death, rode the six hundred.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
Two vessels, three Aerospace fighters, one chance.
Six minutes of power remained. All actors took their places on the stage.
One hundred kilometers, close enough to check the weld quality of hull seams, the two ships danced across from each other. Maneuvering.
Five minutes of power remained.
The Karcharidon Heavy Cruiser rolled itself trying to keep the vulnerable top deck away from the Patrol Carrier’s presumably still working main gun as Roshal’s vessel jumped to the side. Thrusters roared.
Four minutes of power remained.
Runoff 1 and 4 shot towards their formerly separated comrade, forming up behind them in a wedge. The trio climbed towards the sun as their captain continued to chase and harass the Karcharidon.
Three minutes of power remained.
Roshal spoke. The lances of her vessel fired. Laser blasts carved across the hull of the enemy ship as it rolled.
The rolling ceased. A helmswoman swore as a full broadside caught the Patrol Carrier in the flank. The port hangar pod was ruined, armor shattered and all inside exposed to hard vacuum. Those who could scream died the fastest. The Interceptors had their opening.
Two minutes of power remained.
Silent wings swept through vacuum as three Interceptors began their dive, their formerly speedy arrowhead shape giving way to an inverted t as their wings swept out for stability, the ASF dove and dove and dove.
Five Kilometers away.
The range was too wide. They had one shot. It had to be perfect.
One minute of power remained.
The Into Harm’s Way spat its defiance into the world, limited power drained to give her pilots a seconds more of time.
30 seconds of power remained.
Three Kilometers.
Hard Lock! Milk shouted from the back seat of Runoff 3. Cookie was silent. The range was still too wide.
15 seconds of power remained.
Two Kilometers.
The Karcharidon seemingly began to roll before the Patrol Carrier once more fired, its last remaining weapons spouting their defiance against the world. Deep in engineering, systems began to blow, wires that replaced fuses sparked power and delicate circuit boards shorted out into useless scrap.
The lights went out.
No power remained.
Roshal, in her head, began to count down as lances of light began to sweep across her ship. Damage control did what they could, but the beams began to cut like an overly enthusiastic shipbreaker.
Five.
One Kilometer.
Four.
Cookie’s thumb depressed the firing stud as the Interceptor screamed at him.
Three.
The ASF launched its deadly payload.
Two.
Three Interceptors pulled back hard on their sticks to avoid colliding with the deck.
One.
The thruster of the anti-shipping missile roared as it rocketed the point blank aerospace distance to target.
Impact.
The armor piercing tip of the missile punched into the upper deck plating of the Heavy Cruiser, classified alloys allowing it to pierce into the armored plating just enough to allow the shaped charge to open up a hole as momentum kept the weapon moving.
Within the frame of a single second, the warhead of the missile had entered the ship and, before the alarms even had time to sound, detonated.
A new sun appeared in the void for a split second as a plasma-fusion warhead detonated inside the Karcharidon heavy cruiser’s hull.
//////////
Roshal allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief inside her head as the emergency power lights flickered overhead and the gravity ever so slightly lightened. What was left of their sensor arrays showed the enemy vessel powering down. “Engineering. Good work, your 10 minutes were just what she needed.” She called out, picking up the ship phone.
There was no answer from engineering.
She signed externally before pointing at one of the marines guarding the bridge, “Find a crewmate in a void suit. I have need of runners.” The marine clasped a fist to her chest before leaving to execute her captain’s commands. “Comms, do we have any contact with the engineering teams on the pirate hulk?”
The Comms officer held up a hand, Roshal waited, “No, ma’am. We aren’t getting- wait. We’ve got visual on flashing lights from the hull. Apparently, something shorted, so they’re having to rebuild broadcast arrays. They can receive just fine, though.”
“Good, once we can maneuver, bring us broadside of them. What’s the status of the merchant fleet?”
Navigation spoke up now, “Still heading for the Jump Point. Should we send the recall order?”
“Not yet, we are still unsure if the area is safe. If we have any sensors remaining, begin sca-”
The mentioned sensor technician interrupted Captain Roshal, “Ma’am, new contact, signature unknown. Just jumped in from outside the starlane!”
“Give me details. Course, range, and speed?” She demanded.
“Signal confused, can’t get a lock!” Navigation called out, “Can’t tell if confusion’s from them or us.”
Not another one… Roshal sighed, “All forces prepa-”
“Ma’am, we’re being hailed.” Communications called out.
“On squawk.”
“This is Captain Al’yosha Cal’rada of Her Imperial Majesty’s Ship Spear of the Knyaginya, responding to Merchant vessel distress calls. Imperial Patrol Carrier, are you in need of assistance at this time?”
Roshal recognized the voice. A junior officer from her days in the Navy and a fellow Sevastutavan. The memory of the fresh faced girl when she’d joined her as an Ensign straight of the Naval Academy flashed before her eyes. “Captain Cal’rada. Your timing is impeccable as always.”
“Admiral?” Roshal could hear the shock in her old protege’s voice.
“That’s Captain, now, Al’yosha. I require your aid in ensuring the disabled vessel still glowing from an ASM strike remains disabled along with Search and Rescue teams for our sister Carrier.
“Whatever you want, you’ll have it, Admiral_… Helm! All ahead flank and plot course to intercept. Launch gunships and prepare to deploy Bluejackets. We’ll test our _Orcas’ teeth today!”
The line cut out a moment later than it should have, and Roshal nodded in approval.
“Captain, I still don’t have a read on new contact. What is it?” Sensors asked.
“A Drep’na inspired vision, come to life.” Roshal watched, feeling an odd sort of parental pride as Al’yosha’s experimental warship began closing the distance towards the Karcharidon at breakneck speeds. “A swift sailing vessel and ten carriage guns…” Roshal murmured the line from an old Vaasconian poem from the ancient Age of Sail. She had heard Cal’rada had succeeded in petitioning the Navy to build her dream-ship, burning every favor and passing out favors to any and everyone to see the program through. Now, there she was, standing on the bridge bearing down on a ship twice her size, but if the rumors were true, only half her guns.
“Ma’am, contact is still not resolving, but IFF confirms Imperial Navy designation. An Akula Class Attack Transport. I’ve… I’ve never even heard of this class.”
“Perhaps we shall hear of them more in the future. Fortune favors the active.”
“Contact is disgorging multiple signals, moving at speeds consistent with aerospace assets.”
“That is our signal we may disengage. Comms, inform the merchant fleet that the area is secure and to begin refueling procedures. Helm, get us alongside the pirate hulk, we have people to recover. Marine, get me a runner to the MP’s, we shall need the port hangar prepared for an old tradition the Navy has regarding pirate prisoners…” Roshal commanded. The fight was over, it was time to begin the cleanup.
//////////
So… that took a while. Sorry about that.
Turns out when a combination of writer’s block, decision paralysis and LIFE hits you over the head, it becomes a touch difficult to get your shit together long enough to write something down.
On the plus side, we are out of the “unplanned bits” and right back into the parts I have brainstormed, so I won’t be staring at a screen trying to think how to make things connect as much anymore. On the other hand, that means we are now entering the epilogue of book 1 of Top Lasgun.
Don’t worry, the story isn’t ending, I’ve got “three” books plotted out in my head, so we’ll see how that shakes out, but for the most part, this is where I start wrapping up plot threads, laying down threads for what comes next, and all that other good stuff.
So yeah, next chapter is going to involve everyone wrapping up what happened here, some fun little Military Justice, and potentially a bunch of plot. Also, I’m planning on starting a “rewrite”/edited version of this to go up on AO3, so keep an eye out for that. Early installment weirdness is a bitch and I’m not proud of what the older stuff looked like.
Well, I hope you have a wonderful morning, afternoon or evening whenever you read this and I will see you next chapter.
[NEXT CHAPTER]

As far back as I can remember, I had always been passionate about the great outdoors. My love for the wilderness began when I joined the scouts, exploring the diverse landscapes of Southern California, Nevada, Arizona, and Utah. I was never a huge fan of the dry, barren landscapes, but camping provided a much-needed escape from the monotony of Orange County suburbia.
The first time I visited the Pacific Northwest, I was enchanted. The scenery was breathtaking—majestic mountains, lush fields, and meandering rivers. It was clear that anyone who praised the desert's beauty had never laid eyes on the Cascades. Seeing grass and wildflowers growing without irrigation was practically a revelation.
When I was old enough, I moved to Washington state, immersing myself in nature every weekend. My adventures took me hiking through dense forests, camping by serene lakes, and occasionally taking mushrooms under peaceful waterfalls.
I joined several online forums dedicated to outdoor enthusiasts. One community that particularly fascinated me was the Northwest Tomb Raiders. This group of history buffs and thrill-seekers was dedicated to uncovering artifacts, whether Native American relics or treasures hidden in modern ruins. Many members were collectors, fencing their finds to museums and archaeologists, which made it a rather profitable side gig, should you be lucky enough.
In the fall of 2009, an intriguing post appeared on the forum. A user named Lokk claimed to have discovered a cache of artifacts with Scandinavian origins. He couldn't carry everything back due to the treacherous terrain and his age, so he shared the coordinates, hoping someone else could retrieve the items. I scrolled down to see a few posts of people planning to loot it in the Spring, when the paths have reopened. One user, Patagooner, planned on going as early as possible.
Excited by the prospect, I gathered my two friends, Carl and Noah, for the expedition. They weren't as enthusiastic about camping as I was, but after I told them how much a single arrowhead goes for on the black market, they were on board. It was the start of winter now, which had its advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, the rangers would have a harder time spotting us. On the downside, the harsh conditions posed a serious challenge for two inexperienced hikers.
I must’ve blown about four grand at REI on gear for them, justifying it with the knowledge of how much more I would make with two extra packs. That is of course assuming there really were as many artifacts as Lokk had said, and Patagooner hadn’t beaten me there.
The journey began like any other. We met in the pre-dawn darkness and went over our supplies, ensuring we had everything we needed. By mid-morning, we were on our way, my pickup truck winding up the mountain paths. The roads of Olympic National Park were the epitome of the raw, untamed beauty of the Pacific Northwest.
They snake through ancient forests, where towering Douglas firs and Western hemlocks create a verdant canopy overhead. Mist clings to the trees, giving the landscape an ethereal quality. Occasionally, the forest would open up to reveal breathtaking vistas of snow-capped peaks and deep, shadowy valleys.
As we climbed higher, the landscape grew increasingly desolate. The dense forest thinned out, replaced by rugged terrain and jagged rock formations. The air grew colder, and the first flurries of snow began to fall, dusting the ground in a thin, white layer. The road became narrower and more treacherous, winding precariously along the edge of steep cliffs.
Finally, a road closure blockade signaled the end of our journey in the truck. We unloaded three dirt bikes—one mine, two rentals—and continued up the trail. The bikes roared to life, carrying us several more miles into the wilderness. The trail twisted and turned, cutting through dense underbrush and over fallen logs. The snow began to fall more heavily, blanketing the forest floor and muffling the sound of our engines. The world around us grew quieter, more isolated.
Eventually, the snow became too deep to traverse by bike. We dismounted and prepared to continue on foot. The silence of the forest was profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of branches in the wind. I checked my modern GPS, its screen displaying the coordinates and a relief map of our destination.
The cold air bit into our cheeks as we trudged through the snow-laden forest. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the crunch of our footsteps and the occasional call of distant wildlife. The GPS indicated we were close to our destination, but the dense underbrush and uneven terrain made progress slow.
Suddenly, Carl's excited whisper cut through the stillness. "Hey, look at that!"
He pointed to a small, furry creature ambling through the trees. It took a moment to realize what it was—a bear cub, innocently exploring its surroundings.
My heart sank. "Carl, get back," I hissed, my voice low but urgent. "Where there's a cub, there's a..."
Before I could finish, a massive shape exploded from the trees. The mother bear, easily three times the size of the cub, charged at Carl with a ferocity. She was a blur of dark fur and powerful muscles, her roar echoing through the forest.
"Run!" I yelled, but it was too late. The bear was upon Carl, swiping at him with her massive paws. He screamed as he fell to the ground, the bear towering over him. Desperation and adrenaline surged through me. I grabbed the nearest heavy branch and swung it at the bear, hoping to distract her.
Noah joined in, shouting and waving his arms. We had to be careful; one wrong move and she would turn on us. The bear snarled, turning her attention away from Carl for just a moment. It was enough for him to scramble backwards, clutching his bleeding arm.
"We have to get him out of here," I shouted to Noah, who nodded, fear etched on his face. The bear, still enraged, seemed torn between attacking us and protecting her cub.
Using the brief respite, we hauled Carl to his feet. His face was white, and he was clearly in shock. Blood soaked his sleeve, dripping onto the snow. "There's a ranger station about two miles from here," I said, my voice shaking. "We need to get him there. Now."
We half-carried, half-dragged Carl through the forest, every shadow and sound heightening our paranoia.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the small, wooden structure of the ranger station came into view. We had been avoiding the rangers to keep our expedition secret, but now it was our only hope.
Pounding on the door, I prayed for a quick response. The door creaked open, and a weathered face appeared. "What happened?" the ranger demanded, taking in the sight of Carl's bloodied form.
"Bear attack," I gasped. "We need help."
The ranger's expression shifted from suspicion to urgency. "Get him inside. We've got a first aid kit and a radio."
As we eased Carl onto a makeshift bed, the ranger inspected his wounds. "You're lucky," he said after a moment. "The cuts are deep, but they missed any major arteries. He'll need stitches, but we can handle that here. No need for an airlift."
The ranger's face darkened as he turned to me. "What the hell are you boys doing out here?”
I hesitated, "We... we were just exploring."
The ranger's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "Exploring? In a restricted area? In the middle of winter? Are you out of your minds?"
He worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning and stitching Carl's wounds. Carl winced but stayed silent, his eyes closed in pain.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here?" the ranger continued, his voice rising. "The storm, the wildlife... This area is off-limits for a reason! You should have known better." he said, pushing a finger into my chest.
"We'll stay here for the night," he continued, "The storm's getting worse, and it's too dangerous to move him now. We'll reassess in the morning. And count yourself lucky I don't arrest your asses."
Night fell quickly, the storm outside growing more ferocious with each passing minute. The howling wind battered the small ranger station, and the walls creaked under the pressure. We huddled in the main room, the tension thick in the air.
The ranger looked at us sternly. "I need to check the perimeter and make sure everything is secure. There are things out there you don’t want to encounter, especially in this storm."
"Things? What do you mean?" Noah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The ranger's expression hardened. "Just stay put. No matter what you see or hear, do not leave this cabin. Understood?"
We nodded, the seriousness in his tone leaving no room for argument. "We'll stay put," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
The ranger grabbed his coat and shotgun. "I'll be back in an hour. Do not leave this cabin." With that, he opened the door and stepped into the raging storm, disappearing into the darkness.
As soon as the door closed, I turned to Noah. "We need to go. Now."
Noah's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? He said to stay put."
"If we wait until morning, we'll be escorted out of here and lose our chance. This might be our only opportunity to find those artifacts."
Noah hesitated with uncertainty "But... what about Carl?"
"He'll be fine here. The ranger can take care of him. We have to do this now."
Reluctantly, Noah nodded. "Alright. Let's take what we can and go."
We quickly looted extra gear from the cabin. I checked the GPS one last time before we slipped out into the storm, the cold wind battering us.
The snow fell heavily, obscuring our vision as we slogged through the forest. The ranger was nowhere in sight as we made our way towards the our destination, each step filled with trepidatious excitement.
The storm began to die down as we approached the coordinates. We stepped into a clearing where the undisturbed snow lay like a pristine white blanket. In the center stood an ancient, weathered stone altar, encircled by intricate wooden carvings, delicate metalwork, and beautifully crafted statues. The sight was breathtaking, a treasure trove, a veritable museum of paganism.
Noah and I exchanged glances, our eyes wide with amazement. "Do you see this?" I whispered, barely able to contain my excitement.
"We're going to be rich," Noah replied, his voice trembling with awe. "These must be worth a fortune!"
We approached cautiously, as if the vision before us might disappear. The craftsmanship was stunning. I reached out to touch a carved wooden idol, marveling at the detail. "This is incredible," I said, my voice barely audible.
We began to load our packs with as many artifacts as we could carry, each one more exquisite than the last. It was beyond our wildest dreams. We were so engrossed in our task that we didn't notice the small figure watching us from the ridge.
It wasn't until I turned to leave that I saw her. A young girl, maybe eight years old, stood there, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. She was dressed in simple, rustic clothing, her blonde straight hair blowing gently in the wind. For a moment, we just stared at each other.
"Noah," I whispered urgently, nudging him. "Look."
He turned, his eyes following my gaze. "What the...?" he muttered, his voice trailing off.
The girl took a tentative step forward, her eyes fixed on the items in our hands. There was no fear in her gaze, only a quiet intensity that made my skin crawl.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
She tilted her head slightly. "My name is Sigyn."
"What are you doing out here, Sigyn?" Noah asked, his voice shaky.
"I live here,"
"You live here?" I echoed, incredulous. "Is there anyone else around?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Where?" Noah demanded, looking around nervously.
"Everywhere," she said with a giggle.
The way she said it, so matter-of-factly, bothered me deeply. Noah and I exchanged a look, both of us trying to figure out what to do next.
"We can't take her back to the ranger," Noah started, "We'll lose everything."
I nodded, my mind racing. "Sigyn," I said slowly, "we need to know who else is here. Can you help us?"
She looked at me with her piercing blue eyes, then said, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Noah asked.
"For what's going to happen to you," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness.
"You need to tell us what's going on," Noah said, grabbing her arm roughly. "Why are you out here alone?"
She looked up at him, unperturbed. "I am not alone," she said softly.
Before we could press her further, a loud, guttural mooing sound echoed through the clearing. We turned towards the direction the girl had come from, and there, emerging from the shadows, was the silhouette of an elk. As it approached, my stomach dropped. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation of life and decay. Its skull was fully exposed, the eye sockets dark and empty. Large patches of its ribs were visible, the flesh around them rotted away.
The elk's movements were slow and deliberate, its head swaying as if in a trance. It walked directly towards us, its hollow eyes fixed on Sigyn. The closer it got, the more the stench of death filled the air—a nauseating mix of decay and earth. I fought the urge to retch.
Sigyn stood up, her expression calm. The monster sniffed her gently, its nostrils flaring. Without a word, she climbed onto its back, mounting it like a horse. It was a surreal and horrifying scene ripped straight from a nightmare.
As she settled onto the elk, she looked back at us, "A thief in the night shall reap what he sows," she said, her voice carrying an otherworldly echo. "Beware the price of stolen dreams."
With that, the beast turned and began to walk away, Sigyn riding it into the shadows of the forest. We stood there, frozen in place. The realization that we were in far over our heads began to sink in. This started to feel like a trap.
We need to get out of here," My voice trembling. "Now."
We turned to leave, our packs heavy with the pilfered goods. But as we took our first steps, the forest around us seemed to come alive. Shadows moved among the trees, and whispers floated on the wind. I quickened my pace, glancing nervously over my shoulder.
"Did you hear that?" Noah asked sharply,
"Just keep moving," I commanded.
A figure emerged from the shadows, blocking our path. It was a man, tall and gaunt, his eyes burning with an intense light. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice cold and menacing.
"We're leaving," I stammered. "We didn't mean any harm."
The man smirked, and with a swift motion, he raised his hand. More figures appeared, closing in on us from all sides. We were surrounded.
"Run!" I shouted, shoving Noah forward.
We sprinted through the forest, branches whipping at our faces and legs. The figures pursued us, their footsteps silent and relentless.
Noah stumbled and fell, his pack spilling open. Statues scattered across the ground, glinting in the moonlight. "Help!" he cried, scrambling to gather the items.
"Leave them!" I shouted, pulling him to his feet. "We have to keep moving!"
But it was too late, their hands seizing us. I struggled, kicking and thrashing, but their grips were too strong. They forced us to the ground, binding our hands with rough, coarse ropes.
"Please," I begged, "Don't hurt us."
The man who had first appeared stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "A thief in the night," he mocked.
They dragged us through the forest, the trees closing in around us like a cage. We were at their mercy.
In the distance, I could see the elk standing at the edge of the clearing, Sigyn still astride its back. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of pity. But then they turned away, disappearing into the shadows once more.
We were dragged into the heart of the forest, our struggles futile against the unyielding grip of our captors. As we broke through the treeline, a massive bonfire came into view, its flames licking the night sky. Shadows danced around the clearing, cast by the flickering light. A woman stood at the forefront, her presence commanding.
Her eyes were milk white, devoid of pupils, and her long, flowing white hair cascaded down her back. She was completely naked, her skin pale and marked with intricate symbols. Atop her head, she wore an elk skull, its antlers extending like eerie, skeletal fingers. She beat a drum emblazoned with more of the same cryptic symbols, each thud resonating deep within my chest.
Around the fire, about two dozen people stood, all drinking from crude, horned cups. Their faces were solemn, eyes fixed on the woman as she led them in a haunting chant. The atmosphere was thick with a mix of reverence and intoxication.
We were forced to our knees before the woman, who paused her drumming to look down at us. Her gaze was haunting, as if she could see into the very depths of our souls.
"Who are you?" Noah demanded, his voice trembling.
The woman ignored him, raising her arms to the sky. The chanting grew louder, the rhythm of the drum faster and more frenzied. The air around us seemed to vibrate with energy, the flames of the bonfire growing higher and more intense.
I glanced at Noah, fear mirrored in his eyes. The woman began to speak, her voice low and melodic, but filled with power, in a language I couldn't understand. Suddenly, she stopped, lowering her arms. The chanting ceased, and an silence fell over the clearing. She looked directly at me, her white eyes unblinking.
En tjuv i natten skördar vad han sår, akta dig för drömmar som du stjäl och får.
Hans skratt bevakar lundens gömda stig, där skuggor sveper över skogens liv.
För varje stulet andetag och svek, måste en tjuv möta sitt smärtsamma ödelek.
Tricksterns vilja, vår ande här, så i hans nåd, våra liv bär.
I was terrified and confused. She started again, softer, in a way I could understand.
A thief in the night shall reap what he sows, beware the price of stolen dreams.
His laughter guards our hidden groves, where shadows cloak the forest's seams.
For every stolen breath and lie, a thief must meet his painful end.
The tricksters will, our spirits tie, so in his grace, our lives suspend.
The crowd surged forward, grabbing Noah first. He screamed, his terror echoing through the trees as they pulled him towards a makeshift altar beside the bonfire. The woman chanted louder, her voice rising in a hypnotic rhythm as they began their gruesome work.
They stripped him of his shirt and bound his arms to a wooden frame. I tried to move, to help him, but the grip on my shoulders tightened, pinning me to the ground.
The woman approached Noah, holding a knife with a blade that gleamed in the firelight. She started to slice into his back, her movements deliberate and unhurried. Noah's screams pierced the night as she methodically carved the shape of wings into his flesh.
Blood poured from the wounds, soaking the ground beneath him. The crowd's chant grew louder, almost drowning out his cries. I watched in horror as the woman reached into the incisions, breaking the ribs and pulling them outward, creating a parody of wings.
Noah's agony was unbearable to witness. His screams turned to whimpers, his body convulsing in pain. The woman didn't stop until the work was complete, his lungs exposed and hanging grotesquely from his back.
They lifted Noah's broken body and placed him over the fire. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, making me gag. His life ebbed away as the flames consumed him, the once vibrant light in his eyes fading to nothing.
The woman turned to me, her expression devoid of mercy. "You will meet the same fate," she said, "He demands it."
The smell of burning flesh and the sight of his broken body over the fire was seared into my mind. Despair settled over me as I closed my eyes.
A deafening blast shattered the night. My eyes flew open to see the shaman stumbling backward, a gaping wound in her chest. She collapsed to the ground, her white eyes staring lifelessly into the void.
The villagers turned in shock as another shot rang out, this time hitting one of the men holding me. I twisted free from their grasp and saw the park ranger standing at the edge of the clearing, a pump-action shotgun in his hands. He fired again, the sound echoing through the forest, before one of them tackled him to the ground.
"Run!" he shouted, his voice raw and desperate. "Get the hell out of here!"
I didn't need to be told twice. I sprinted into the darkness, the chaos of the clearing fading behind me. Branches whipped at my face, and the snow underfoot made every step a struggle. I could hear the sounds of fighting and gunshots, but I forced myself to keep moving.
The cold air burned in my lungs, but adrenaline pushed me forward. I didn't stop until I reached the station, my legs threatening to give out from under me. I burst through the door and slammed it behind me.
Inside, Carl lay where we had left him, his face pale and twisted in pain. I stumbled to the radio, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the controls.
"Mayday, mayday!" I yelled into the microphone. "This is an emergency! We need help! Please, someone, come quickly!"
Static filled the room, punctuated by my ragged breaths. I repeated the call, my voice growing more frantic with each passing second. Finally, a voice crackled through the speaker. "This is Ranger Station Bravo. What's your location? Over."
I could barely form the words. "Olympic National Park! The ranger station near mount Christie! We're under attack! Please, send help!"
"Copy that. Help is on the way. Stay put and stay safe. Over."
I collapsed to the floor, my body trembling with exhaustion and fear. Carl moaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. "What… What happened? Where's Noah?”
Tears streamed down my face and I found myself choked up. “He’s gone, man. Help is coming.”
The minutes stretched into an eternity as we waited. The wind howled around the station, and every creak and groan of the structure set my nerves on edge. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched, that the forest itself was closing in on us.
The radio crackled again, this time with a different voice. "Helicopter en route, ETA fifteen minutes. Prepare for extraction."
I glanced at Carl, his eyes filled with confusion. "Hang on. We're getting out of here."
As the minutes ticked by, I couldn't help but think about the ranger. He had saved my life, but he hadn't made it back. My mind conjured up images of what might have happened to him, the cultists overwhelming him in the darkness. A sense of guilt gnawed at me, knowing he had sacrificed himself for us.
The sound of rotors cut through the night, growing louder as the helicopter approached. I ran to the window and saw its searchlight piercing the treetops, scanning for the station.
I helped Carl to his feet, supporting his weight as we made our way to the hatch. The helicopter hovered above, lowering a rescue basket. The wind from the rotors whipped the snow into a frenzy, but I didn't care. Salvation was finally here.
We secured Carl in the basket first, and I watched as he was hoisted up, disappearing into the safety of the helicopter. My turn was next. I realized that I was now alone and exposed. Fear coursing through me as I scanned around the edge of the forest, expecting to be grabbed and taken seconds before my rescue. But the moment never came. As I gripped the rope, I took one last look at the forest below. The flames of the bonfire still flickered in the distance.
I was lifted into the air, the ground falling away beneath me. The helicopter's crew pulled me inside, and I collapsed onto the floor still holding onto my pack, my body finally giving in to exhaustion. The doors closed, and the helicopter banked away, leaving the horrors of the park behind.
Weeks had passed since the harrowing events, but the memories clung to me like the bitter cold. I had returned to civilization, seeking solace in the familiar chaos of the city. I found a wealthy collector through a network of contacts. The artifacts fetched a price tenfold the cost of gear. The money was substantial, but as I held the cash, it felt like a hollow victory.
Noah's absence weighed heavily on me. His disappearance was chalked up as a missing persons case, and despite my best efforts to explain what had happened, no one believed me. The authorities conducted a search of the area, but they found no trace of the cult, the artifacts, or the clearing. It was as if the forest had swallowed up all the evidence.
I returned to the site where we had parked the truck. The dirt bikes were gone, stolen by opportunistic thieves, but the truck remained. I drove back in silence, the road winding through the dense forest. For a moment, I thought I saw the girl watching me from atop a ridge until I realized it was just paranoia. I stepped on the gas a little harder.
Back home, I checked the Tomb Raiders forum again. The post that had led us into the forest was gone, deleted without a trace. I messaged the mods, but apparently, they don’t keep records to maintain confidentiality. I wrote about our experience, detailing every terrifying moment, but the responses were skeptical at best. Most dismissed it as a work of fiction or a desperate cry for attention.
Time passed, and I tried to return to a semblance of normalcy. Yet, the wilderness called to me stronger than ever. It was my sanctuary, the only place where I could find peace amidst the turmoil. I spent more and more time outdoors than ever before, but now it always felt like I was just running from something.
Determined to prove what had happened, I returned to the forest with a camera and recording equipment. This time, I documented every step, capturing footage of the trees, the snow, and the eerie silence that hung in the air. I retraced our path, hoping to find the clearing again. But each night, as I reviewed the footage, something strange would happen. The files would be corrupted or entire segments missing.
I pressed on. I found the site where Noah had fallen, the ground still bearing faint traces of what had happened. I set up the camera and began to speak, recounting the events in detail. As I spoke, a cold wind swept through the clearing, and the camera's screen flickered. I finished my account and turned to check the recording, only to find the file corrupted once again, the footage replaced by static and a faint, mocking laughter.
I returned home, defeated and exhausted. My attempts to share what I had experienced were met with disbelief and ridicule. The files I managed to save were corrupted beyond recognition. It was as if the forest itself was conspiring against me.
Almost exactly one year later, as I browsed the forums, a new post caught my eye. It was cryptic, eerily similar to the one that had led us into the nightmare. It spoke of another trove of artifacts, hidden deep within the wilderness, waiting to be claimed.
The post was signed with a new name: Skygge. Different handle, same style. Another trap. They had taken so much from me, left scars that would never heal. I opened my drawer, my fingers brushing over the cold metal of my weapons. This was the moment I had been waiting for. This time, I'll be ready.
The forest’s secrets won't remain hidden forever.

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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 239: Standing Start
A wine bottle rolled against the side of my boot.
Amidst a gallery of stunned faces and open mouths, it was easily the second most lively thing here.
The first was a clockwork doll clutching at her stomach in pain.
“Ahahahha~ ahahaha~ ahah … uck … ack … ughh … ahahaha~”
I pursed my lips.
Still, I said nothing.
For one thing, this was precisely what happened when one ate the mouldy cinnamon rolls combined with any grass growing by the side of the road. If Apple refused to eat something, then so should she.
But for another–
“What … What is this … ?”
It was because the first response was reserved for the baroness.
Her words came out in a quivering tone, matching the disbelief upon her face.
Frankly, she had to do better than that.
Only the wine from the bottle I nudged away dribbled into the soil. And also the line of drool from a comatose farmer. But I didn’t want to think about that.
Still, it was an excellent benchmark. Until her tears could properly overpower the sour aroma from the Château de Riaré Hensoise, I would deem her bawling to be incomplete.
She had a long way to go.
“How … How are you still …” she began, slowly rising from her seat. “This … This is impossible–”
I offered a tidy smile alongside a flick of my hair, relishing in the moonlight adorning my figure.
“I agree. It shouldn’t be possible. But I assure you, my skin is 100% natural.”
“E-Excuse me … ?”
“No magical enchantments. No unicorn elixirs. No witchly glamors. Just a healthy sleep schedule of however many hours I desire and a diet of fresh strawberry shortcakes.”
The baroness mouthed silently at my secrets being revealed.
A strange way of offering her gratitude. Other princesses hounded my door for this knowledge. Given her pale, blotchy skin and lips as dry as a pond in a desert, she should be pleading for more.
Instead, she pointed at the fallen drunk beside us.
“This … This shouldn’t be possible … no, wait … the clockwork doll … did she–”
She suddenly snapped towards Coppelia, her eyes widening.
“Uuh … ahaha … ugh, it hurts ... ahaha … it hurts so much … ahaha … my tummy … aha … oh no … I’m … I’m seeing daisies … aha … I … ugh … I think I need help …”
Coppelia hugged her stomach, writhing like a freshly hatched caterpillar. Her eyes darkened as hiccups of laughter assailed her defeated form.
The baroness pursed her lips.
Then, she turned to Renise instead.
“Did you–”
“A-Amazing! … I … I have no idea what you did … but it wasn’t just wonderful … it was beautiful! The colours! The warmth! It was like a rainbow come to life!”
With a smile worthy of any attendant, the maid brought her hands together in polite applause. Naturally, to be praised for my brushwork was nothing new to me. Nor was the sight of stars shining in her eyes with greater brightness than any in the night sky.
Why, that even came whenever I left my bedroom.
“You … how did … how did you defeat him … ?”
The strands of the baroness’s golden hair began to frizzle as she turned towards me. All I saw were her tonsils. Bright red and healthy. She should be pleased.
“This was … this was no common man … do you know who he is … ?”
Without offering a chance to ignore her, she stamped a foot, pointing at the fallen drunk with maddened jabs. The man offered no defence, now as spent and drained as the bottle beside him.
I raised a brow.
“Indeed, I do. He’s a farmer who made poor life choices. And between leaving his farm and offering his pitchfork to an overly ambitious baroness, the greater was you. My congratulations on being the superior mistake. I acknowledge your triumph.”
Bwam.
The baroness promptly slapped her palms down on the table.
“This man … is Willem of Hagel,” she said, her teeth gritted together. “A man desperate and cursed.”
“Yes, well, to be a peasant is a dire thing. But it could be worse. At least he isn’t nobility.”
A mouth further widened before me.
Indeed, this was a terrible time to realise her affliction. But I was no famed angel of healing for nothing. There was a cure for ambition. And it involved copious amounts of tears.
I was still waiting.
“There is no world in which you should have been able to defeat him … not if half the tales about him prove true … he is a famed opponent … all the while you are … you are …”
Suddenly, her eyes left my face for the very first time.
No longer feeling that my cheeks were in danger of being poked, she swept her eyes upon my person, as though hoping to find some blemish to signify I was as false as a field of corn.
She stopped at the sword by my side.
And also–
“A copper ring,” she said softly.
Suddenly, my 29th house of cards I was subtly constructing collapsed.
… T-The ring!
The blot on my finger! The insidious badge of shame! The symbol of the Adventurer’s Guild!
Why, I’d taken it for granted that my masterful disguise was impervious! But this was no ordinary noblewoman I was seated across!
This … This was one I’d previously sat across before!
I’d made a terrible mistake!
I was mesmerising! A beautiful princess as charming as I was modest!
There was utterly no scenario in which I’d be forgotten!
I … I should have removed the copper ring!
“O-Oho … ohoho … w-what copper ring?” I said, my hands vanishing below the table at a speed con artists could only nod at. “Ah, do you refer to the ruby inlaid ring I often carry on my hand? The one which changes colour depending on the longitude and latitude? In that case, you may very well have briefly spied something which resembled a copper hue. But it is in fact a thing of unparalleled beauty and craftsmanship. Not a disgraceful copper ring.”
The baroness slowly looked up at me, her eyes blinking.
“No. I wasn’t mistaken. I … I recognise that ring. It is a copper ring, the same size and shape as those worn by … adventurers.”
My mouth widened in horror.
At once, I immediately sought a plant pot or a heavy book. Something to immediately erase the past few seconds of her memory.
Why … if she knew my secret, then the shame would haunt me all the way until I’d found something weighing at least equivalent to a standard hardback!
“I see,” she mumbled, as much to herself as me. “I understand now …”
The baroness removed her palms from the table.
She stood up straight, a hard expression upon her face. One which calculated with each passing moment the optimal way to exploit this devastating information.
Then, she took in a deep breath–just as I began assembling the playing cards into a thick pile.
“… it must be a legendary artifact.”
As I began eyeing her temple … I blinked in non-understanding.
“Excuse me?”
She nodded, her frown harsh enough to permanently crease her skin.
“To wear such a plain, ugly and shameful ring … one which utterly demeans your history, your worth and your pride, destroying any semblance of dignity you possess–”
My hand went to my stomach, struck by as much pain as Coppelia had experienced in a single moment.
“–indeed, to wear a ring so easily mistaken as one belonging to adventurers, the vermin of the world … it must be a truly terrifying artifact.”
I blinked.
And then–
“Ohhho … ohoohho! You … You see the truth of it!”
The baroness squeezed her fists by her side.
“I knew it.”
I nodded, my bangs bouncing against my forehead.
“I-Indeed … ! This ring I carry on me … it is a masterful item of supreme quality, passed down along generations of my family! Why, its appearance matching those of rings worn by adventurers is no coincidence! Theirs are based on this very design! Although they have since tarnished it, it was forged back in the first days of the kingdom when copper was greater than gold! Poured within it is knowledge now lost to time! A power beyond compare, called upon from the depths of the Royal Vault!”
The baroness sucked in a hateful breath.
“Then that explains it,” she said with bitterness ringing throughout her voice. “You were able to defeat such a powerful adversary through the use of your family’s ancient heirlooms.”
“Indeed, this powerful ring with a rare ability I cannot disclose defeated a terrifying farmer! Therefore, there’s no need for you to relay any suggestion that I’m anything but a princess, as far removed from the Adventurer’s Guild as hygiene is to their members!”
The baroness gave no response.
A respite which lasted far too short.
“... I see, then it means the plan continues. Different, yes. But I’ll not be deterred.”
She smiled, the familiar sight of aristocratic opportunism mixed with an utter denial of facts shining within her grey eyes.
I could only react with horror.
“Plan?” I replied, convinced she was well and truly several sandwiches short of a picnic. “Do you mean the plan currently lying in a fallen heap beside us? Did you not just say I defeated your farmer? Your only plan now is to decide which part of the ground you wish to offer your forehead to.”
The baroness shook her head with renewed confidence.
“I think not. To defeat Willem of Hagel, you must have expended every effort you had available. Not a crumb of power could be spared, for to underestimate him would have resulted in your certain loss. Meaning …”
Without hesitation, she gave a multipurpose wave of her hand.
“... You’ve nothing left but a sword you cannot wield, and two retainers against all of mine. One of whom is incapacitated. The other a maid.”
She continued to keep her hand raised. Her simple call to arms.
It took several moments before she cared to even look around her.
A sad thing.
If she had, she would have realised the curiosity of her hoodlums was less than their prudence.
She would have noticed the eyes without loyalty, seeing only the fallen figure of a drunk they’d been led to believe was more than a farmer now watering the ground with his drool.
And she would have noticed the state of her dress, as dishevelled as her ambitions as those she relied upon slinked away in search of newer gutters to inhabit, following instincts she could learn as the last of their feet shuffled into the darkness.
The baroness paled.
It was far too early for that. She had no idea Apple was currently resting in her tavern, and wouldn’t be helping her haul all of the goods which needed delivering to a place less damp than here.
But I could sooth her forthcoming backache with a smile, at least for the assistance already provided.
“You have my gratitude,” I said, brushing a speck of … countryside from my lap. “For so long as the nobility continues to concoct slapdash schemes with no hope of success, the kingdom can continue to assign blame on you when all else goes wrong. When the mobs come calling and heads start rolling, it ensures a steady queue of necks can be offered before ours are reached. That is why the nobility continues to exist, you see, despite the ceaseless treason. So allow me to offer a word of advice when next you wish to survive in a position of responsibility. When fleeing, the best defence isn’t to run faster–it’s to trip the person beside you. And this means better hiring practices.”
I glanced pointedly around me.
All this empty space and not even a single eyepatched second-in-command to use as a distraction? An amateur mistake. One the baroness now realised as her mouth opened wordlessly, the realisation of her solitude only now dawning upon her.
Yet all it invited was a newly wrought defiance.
“I do not mean to flee,” she said, her fists tightly clenched. “I am Arisa Sandholt. And even should I be captured here, you would not be afforded a night’s rest. I am not alone. Whether tonight or tomorrow, this kingdom will fall. I am not alone in planning its demise.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, please. Planning my kingdom’s demise is what everyone does.”
“What?”
“If it’s not being actively planned, it’s because someone’s in the middle of planning how to formulate a plan. And then once they’ve finished planning, they wonder why their plan didn’t work as planned. This is not a cause for concern. It’s a sign the world is still spinning the correct direction.”
The baroness feigned a dignified silence.
It was far too late, of course. By default, nobility had no dignity.
Still, I accepted the effort, and filled the silence with a tidy clap of my hands.
“Now, since you’ve no intention of fleeing, you can be useful instead. I’ll require a full inventory of your stock. I intend to requisition every single item you have in your possession. Every grain. Every crown. And every odd piece of tableware, carpet, candleholder and painting you might have.”
I pointed at the barn. A tragic thing to requisition. But if I was fortunate, it’d grow lacquered tiles and bay windows in the short steps between here and there.
Suddenly, the baroness’s eyes widened. The needless defiance dropped alarmingly from her face.
“Wait … what do you mean by that?”
I paused for a moment, puzzled by her reaction.
This was hardly the complicated part.
“I mean exactly what I mean. This should come as no surprise. I will be emptying every corner of the property you’ve misappropriated, including whatever manner of tunnels you’ve carved for your use. Rest assured, I’ll be employing the talents of my retainers extensively. With or without your cooperation, every single inch of your abode will be inspected by myself for the Royal Treasury’s benefit.”
She blinked between Renise and Coppelia. Although one was dressed as a maid and the other now appeared to be napping on the ground, their skills when it came to matters of unearthing valuables in my kingdom’s underbelly was not one I doubted.
Nor, from the way the baroness gulped, did she.
“I can do it,” she said suddenly.
I looked at her in confusion, uncertain what ploy this was.
“... Excuse me? Do what?”
“The items of value. I can bring them out. There’s no need to personally see to such a thing yourself.”
“While I’m in full agreement, I can hardly trust your reliability in this manner. And besides, I’ll hardly be playing the mule. I shall be supervising while closely assessing every item.”
Once more, the tonsils came out.
An appalling disregard of decorum. There was only one time that nobility was permitted to look so horrified in my presence. And that’s if they were copying my own after I discovered a list of marriage suitors posing as a napkin beneath the dessert spoon again.
“E-Even so … as the one who wronged you, I insist on not troubling a princess any further. If you give me a few moments, I can acquire the most important valuables for you in a fraction of the time you’d spend on finding them.”
“A few moments to hide them, you mean. No, I’m afraid that anything you wish to stuff beneath a floorboard will need to be appropriately examined first.”
I leaned away in mild alarm as a bead of sweat ran down the baroness’s face.
A moment later–
She finally did what only someone in her position could.
Adhering to the instincts of all nobility, she swept up her dress and suddenly dashed away.
Except it wasn’t towards the dark forest, to be lost amidst the shadows and the jaws of whatever awaited her there. It was back towards the barn.
I watched as she stumbled several times before even reaching the steps.
“... A desperate sight, no?” I said, with a sad shake of my head. “To throw away all semblance of the image she’d hoped to craft. Now she flees like a frightened towngirl. She should know that escape is now impossible.”
Beside me, Renise let out a hum.
Far from chasing after the baroness, she collected the pack of cards I’d assembled for memory wiping purposes. She began to build a house of cards.
I looked at her in puzzlement. She gave a strangely pained smile in reply.
“I believe we can offer her a few moments.”
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Six years together. 2024 has been quite a year so far. My boyfriend has been out of work for almost 5 months, which is yearly occurrence since his main source of income is from doing gig work with a local transportation company. He has been applying to jobs with an out of date resume, he hasn't had that much luck in finding work. When I suggested taking on a temporary job at a grocery store or cafe to stay afloat until his main job starts up again, he became extremely upset and said that those jobs were beneath him.
In these past 5 months he has been playing video games, smoking weed in my bathroom, randomly leaving at all hours to hang out with his friends. He doesn't help with any chores, out of fear for my safety I purchased him a new phone when he broke his, paid for two months worth of phone bills, purchase work boots, and allowed him to shake me down for cash to buy weed.
Even though he tries to gaslight me but saying that this is first year that he hasn't been without work, it hasn't been. Every year since he quit his job during covid(2020)and moved into my apt. he has had periods of no work and very little to no money. He just games and smokes those months away. He berates me for not cooking or cleaning when I was working two jobs and he was working none. When he finally did get a new job thanks to his dad helping him, he refused to contribute financially even though he saw how physically and mentally exhausted I was from working 6 days a week. He said I didn't deserve help. He treats me terribly whenever I help him out. He has forced me to pay his taxes, give him one of my stimulus bills, buy him food. He becomes irate if things aren't exactly how he wants it. He loves to make plans only to cancel at the last minute and then gaslight me about it. He would refuse to go out with me to events but then drop everything to go hang out with his friends.
I always told him that if he can't contribute financially due to not having enough or having work, it's fine but he should contribute by doinf household chores. He refuses.
I think what is going on is that my mind is trying to protect me by compartmentalizing and lessen the gravity of the situation and of what occurred this past weekend. I see the signs of being in an abusive relationship but I don't fully believe that I am in one because it doesn't fit what we all have been told are the signs of an abusive relationship.
In February he pushed some storage bins into me, one of which broke and cut me in my back because I told his parents that he hadn't been working for the past two months.
This past weekend which we were walking through a soon to be closed mall, I had been recording the beautiful 80's/90's architecture when he said wait, I instinctively turned around and he was scratching himself. I laughed a little bit and turned back and continued walking. Since I had my phone in my hand he thought I had recorded him, he rushed down the hallway angrily asking me if I recorded him and to give him my phone. I said I didn't and kept walking,I was wearing a hoodie and he grabbed my hood and pulled, angrily telling me to give him my phone, I told him to let go that he was hurting me. I tried to keep on walking but he was still holding onto and pulling my hood. He then proceeds to try to grab the phone out of my hands. You know when someone tries to grab something out of your hands and both of you start grappling over the item, that's what happened. My phone is brand new and did not have a case yet and I was worried he would smash it into the ground. I know my personal safety is more important than a phone but I couldn't let go even if I wanted to, he had grabbed onto me and was in the process of pushing me into the wall when a guy rounded the corner.
He didn't step in nor call the police as far as I know. I took the opportunity to get away from my boyfriend as quickly as I could.
I ran to the train station, he kept on yelling at me "Are you really going to act like this", I didn't answer. My neck and throat burned from where his was pulling back on my hoodie. I started to cry. There was a lady who seemed to notice that something was going on and nodded her head in approval when she saw me rushing past to get into the station.
When he finally did catch up to me and when he texted and called me afterwards, he kept on blaming me for what happened. He said that I shouldn't have walked away from him when he grabbed onto my hood and that I should have told him that I was playing around and pretending to record him( which is what I said to placate him). When I said that he shouldn't have grabbed my hoodie and pulled he retorted with the so now it's my fault, as if I made him pull my hoodie and react like that.
I wanted to go home but I didn't have my keys on me, so I went down to a nearby marina and watched the boats for awhile.
I ultimately ended up at his parents house. I did not tell them what happened. In the past he would become enraged when he found out that I had told his sisters or mom about what was really going on, and would forbade me to either go to a family function or to say anything. His dad then proceeded to have a conversation about selling his house and giving us the proceeds to buy a house but we should have two kids. His parents have been pressuring me have a child with him even though we aren't married. I want to get married and have a small church wedding but according to my boyfriend I don't deserve a wedding. He also shared with us the importance that both people in a relationship need to contribute financially and pay bills, I told him he should tell that to his son, not me. It would be insanity to have a child with a man like him. I know that he will not change who he is if a child came along.
My friends are aware of the general situation (not of this latest incident), some of my family is aware of the general situation( I don't want them to worry and I don't want to bring unnecessary drama into their lives). His family is aware, one of his older sister's told me to call her for help when I wanted to end things with him and she would come over but when I actually did reach out to her, she said that I was an adult and would need to handle things on my own. I think she feigned concerned in order to get information to gossip with the rest of their family.
I am scared of him. Scared of how he would react if I stand firm in him needing to leave. Scared that he will harm my friends, family, himself and me. He has threaten suicide before. He has threaten to harm my pet. He has threaten to steal my mom's ashes. I have asked him to leave before and either he refuses or he simply ignores me.Him leaving is not that simple. He has nothing to lose yet at the same time everything to lose. He doesn't want to go back to his parents house because they will make him find a full time job and then won't let him do what he wants, he would have less freedom( couldn't smoke weed)...and those are his words not mine. He has never agreed to a break or even a temporary visit because he would "come back madder". He knows if he does leave, I will try to end things with him.
He comes across as a calm, chill guy when he is around my friends and family because he is high all or most of the time. That calm, chill guy is not who he really is. He is angry, volatile, and cruel. Yes, he has his moments of kindness(or niceness) and sweetness. Is it "nice" to have someone around to talk with, yes. Who seemingly care about when you will be back home, yes. but do those niceties outweigh everything else that has happened.
There is so much more that I could add to this post, but I am exhausted and I have blocked several incidents out. He constantly tries to gaslights me. He lied about his background and education. He has gotten physical several other times as well as verbally/emotionally. He has engaged in several sexting relationships, most notably with his ex Christy and his "friend" Lore. When I expressed how hurtful his cheating was he stated that is who he is, that he's the kind guy but since he didn't sleep with them, it's fine, it's not cheating. These girls also do not see anything wrong with what they have done.
I do not have any immediate family ie siblings or parents. Therefore, I cannot go and stay with family until he leaves or have a family member accompany me while he moves out. I do have extended family in the area but life has taught me that there is no guarantee that they will help you even if you desperately need it. It's the American way to find your own way out of problems and pull yourself up by your bootstraps ( I say this sarcastically).
The apt. is in my name and I'm pretty sure there is a clause in it that states that if there are domestic disturbances I would have to move out. As stated above I don't have anywhere else to go, so he must leave.
Sometimes I think that this is my lot in life and that I should just accept it. I find myself questioning if what happened on Saturday really is abuse or if it was just a misunderstanding that got a little bit out of hand. Sometimes I just don't know anymore.