Wade held Jasmine in his arms as he flew a low height down the long road to another section of the staryard, Tina on his back and Nathan and F right behind them in the air. Together, the five glided across the base grounds, taking care as to not irritate the aerial security during their search for the meeting room. Being outside for the flight, the group considered it a blessing that Wade's 'enhanced cooling unit' allowed his body to tolerate the breaching sun in the still cloudy sky, which, according to F, was dangerous to drones like her due to the inefficient cooling she and disassembly drones like her suffered from. Given F's physical fault, she had to fly under shady areas in order to safely traverse the base at day.
Originally, Wade and his friends had planned to walk to the meeting zone, but after running into a trooper experiencing a health mishap, the group did what they could to help the distressed officer. By the time he was brought to the medical ward by other soldiers, Wade found that him and his team would be at least a few minutes late if they kept on their way with their walk.
Deciding to speed things up, Wade, understanding the concern for performing such an effort, opted to carry the Fowleys around the base to the meeting area. Reluctantly, F decided to come along, carrying Nathan in a similar manner that Wade was carrying Jasmine. Taking notice of the time on his HUD, which read, "9:47 AM", Wade scouted for the building he and his friends were directed to. "8072" He said to himself, the number being for the building that would house the imminent meeting.
"They said it was down here, right?" Wade asked aloud to Tina before stopping himself in mid-air, the girl holding onto him tightly as he tried to speak over the growing sound of a retrofit Apache flying overhead.
Looking about, Tina nodded as she spotted the target building. "Yes, I believe that's the one over there!" Pointing past his head, Wade followed her finger to a large building ahead at his right. The structure was moderately tall, only about two stories high, with several soldiers and officers going in and out of the building. Wade smiled as he noticed the target number, as well as the big, bold words describing the building's designation. "8072, Briefing Center B"
"Good eye, honey. Hang on!" Continuing his low glide, Wade zoomed towards the building's entrance before stopping just meters above the ground, his two friends close behind as they slowed down as well. The troopers around them initially looked startled by the sudden arrival of Wade and his group, but quickly regained their composure as Wade hovered still above them.
"At ease! Just visitors." One of the soldiers declared as they identified the newcomers, who touched down before Wade let Jasmine down to her feet, Tina hopping onto the ground along with her.
Putting his hands up, Wade apologized for his swift surprise. "Sorry for the scare, we got delayed for a meeting we're invited to."
The soldier gave an understanding nod as he replied to the former worker drone sternly. "I can see that, just be a bit more careful next time, Mr. Carter. You gave the boys here quite a scare."
Wade returned the gesture in embarrassment as F put a hand to his back, chuckling at his efforts as Tina questioned the officer. "Is Mrs. J in there? She's the one who called for us."
The guard gave his reply as Wade and Tina pulled out their IDs for clearance. "Yes she is, Miss. The meeting's set to begin in under ten minutes." Checking the two drones' IDs, Jasmine and the others pulled out theirs as well, the watchman motioning another trooper over to verify the group. Once the guard finished checking the five's cards, he nodded in approval as the watchman spoke once more. "You're clear to enter."
"Thank you Sir, again, sorry about that spook back there." Wade replied with a smile as the trooper gave one of his own, the disassembly drone and his allies making their way towards the office door before stopping upon the call of a voice.
"Hey, Felice!" Wade turned to find the origin of the voice, F doing the same as the two quickly spotted a quartet of soldiers walking excitedly towards F. The disassembly drone glanced to her friends with a smile before turning back to the approaching entourage.
Wade examined the four troops as they got closer: Two human men, one woman, and a male worker drone. One of the male soldiers had short, blonde hair, and a small scar to the right side of their face. The second man bore a tan skin tone and had black hair, with blue strips that went down slightly in a mullet style. The woman bore a set of long, dark green hair, with the hair going down and over her left shoulder. As for the worker drone, he wore the standard green soldier helmet, single eye visor and all. He had no hair on him from what Wade could tell, and bore a pair of whiteish purple eyes on his visor.
As F walked over to the soldiers, the same one that called to her spoke again. "Felicity, I didn't expect to see you around here today! Where you been?"
The girl soldier interrupted his initial chatter. "Hang on Carlos, do you even know if she remembers us?"
"Aye, don't she have one o' them memory locks, or sumthin?" The drone added in a heavy Scottish accent.
F waved her hand as she replied to the group. "Easy, everyone. Thankfully I still got my memories, courtesy of my technician back at Central." Lowering her hand, F let down her usual persona as she gave a wide smirk to the soldiers, clearly pleased to see them. "Good to see you guys around here."
The soldiers gave light cheers to F as they all embraced her, the group having a surprise reunion as Wade and the others watched in surprise. These must've been F's old colleagues from when she was in the service, Wade thought. Quite the coincidence for them to be here at this base of all places.
Not bothering with the convenience of the matter, Wade shook the thought off as he and his friends watched F and her old friends breaking the hug, Tina wrapping an arm around her boyfriend as the second male human spoke to her in what the two discerned as Spanish. "Ay, who your new friends, F?"
"Oh, these guys?" F replied in the same language, quietly startling Wade and the others as they had never heard her speak like that until now. Glancing over to Wade, F motioned him and the others to come over. "Everyone, these are some friends I made in the past few days. Wade, Nathan, Tina, and Jasmine." She pointed her hand to the four as she said each of their names. "I met the boys here during my time on Ceres. Jasmine and Tina here are sisters."
The four soldiers gave various forms of excitement, ranging from hearty laughs to low woops and even a whistle from one of the guys. As F stood next to her old teammates, they each introduced themselves to Wade and his friends. The blonde soldier went first. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you all, name's Carlos, Lieutenant Marksman."
"I'm Private Alvaros, good with close-range and stealth operations." Said the tan soldier with a salute.
"Sergeant Lucia Vasquez, usually the one who leads this bunch around these days." The female warrior stated with a humorous smirk.
"And Corporal Duncan Wallace, at your service!" The soldier drone stated proudly as he saluted to the bunch in front of him, who gave warm smiles as Wade shook his hand.
"Quite honored to meet you all, seems you have quite the history with F." The former worker drone said as Carlos patted F on her back.
"Oh, we do! She's the one who took charge when we didn't! Did you all hear of the Pasting of Nola VI?" Jasmine and Tina gave nods of affirmation while Wade, not as familiar with such history, held his hand up in a questioning manner.
"I think, wasn't that the battle where the Navy just barely held the outpost in that system? From the Stryker Clan?" Wade asked as Carlos nodded approvingly to him.
"That's right, and if Felice weren't there, WE would've been the ones getting pasted!" Carlos' statement brought victorious cheers and "oorahs" from the group, F letting a blush loose as she chuckled at her team's praise of her efforts.
"Well, that's not wrong." Although she didn't want to break off from her friends and discuss the past few years since they'd last met, F remembered the briefing. Clearing her throat, she continued. "And as much as I'd like to chat about the good times, I've been called to a meeting here, as have Wade and his crew."
The soldier group gave understanding looks to F as Lucia spoke up. "Thought so, Carl here was real eager to see you, though."
"Maybe we can talk after the meeting?" Nathan proposed as the soldiers collectively nodded in agreement, F readying a smartcomm attachment before turning to face her friends again.
"We're probably getting low on time, you all go in, I'll catch up in a sec." Wade nodded in acknowledgement before taking Tina's hand, the lover drones continuing towards the briefing center as Jasmine and Nathan followed behind them.
Passing through the door, the four guests observed a short hallway, which seemed to split into two paths as they came closer to the other end. Looking to a sign on the wall above, they saw arrows pointing to two separate areas, "Primary Briefing Room; Main Lobby + Secondary & Tertiary" Going to the right, they entered the moderately active lobby, several officers walking and standing about in mass chatter. Walking over to the desk up against the wall to their left, Wade and his group waved a hand to the occupying attendant.
"Welcome, what do you need?" The desk attendant asked as Tina raised a finger to reply.
"We're here for a meeting, Mrs. J called us here."
The attendant nodded in understanding before directing an arm towards the other end of the room, where a single door stood. "She should be in the second briefing room down that way."
"Thank you." Tina replied warmly before she and Wade began walking towards the door, their friends behind them as they proceeded into the room.
The room beyond the door was quite sizable, a large circular table occupying the middle with several chairs surrounding it. The walls went up a few meters, with four whiteish blue lights illuminating the room. On the wall opposite to Wade and Tina were three monitor screens, all of which showed the USN in bright blue. In several of the seats were faces both familiar and unfamiliar, several men and women in varying styles of uniforms conversing about quietly or taking notice of the recent visitors. Standing up near the monitors were three people: A decorated officer whom Tina identified as a ship captain, and the so-called operatives, Tessa, albeit as a hologram, and J.
Walking slowly into the room, Wade gave a low wave of his hand as he tried to hide his nervousness. Noticing his shyness in front of the officers, Tina held his hand and rubbed his arm comfortingly while returning a pleasant smile to the staff in the room.
"Ah, Wade, Tina. Glad to see you all here." J stated with a smile as she scanned the group, raising a digital eyebrow as she noticed one missing guest. "Or, most of you, I see. Did F run off somewhere?"
Wade shook his head as he replied to his fellow disassembly drone. "Oh, no. She just ran into some old friends, she should be back-"
"Right now." F finished aloud as she entered the room, seemingly having heard Wade speaking about her absence. The warrior drone fast walked to Wade's team, taking a seat near them as they prepared to do the same. "Not too late, are we?"
"Not at all." The standing officer answered as the group took their seats, Wade and Tina sitting next to each other as they got comfortable. The captain examined the lot for a moment, glancing to J as he asked about them. "So, these are the ones you helped rescue from the Mojave?"
"Yes Captain, and they helped us out greatly in turn. This is Wade Carter, one of the captured drones whom became a disassembly drone before we could mount the rescue. The luckiest one, if you ask me." Motioning her arm over the others, she continued. "And there's his girlfriend, Mrs. Tina Fowley, and her sister Jasmine." Smirking to F and Nathan, she finished her friends' introductions. "And these two are Serial Designation F and Mr. Nathan, whom I've heard were once under your ranks."
The military captain gave a welcoming smile to the five as they returned the gesture, eyeing F and Nathan specifically before speaking to them. "Indeed they were, we still have records on their contributions to the colonies." Eyeing F, he continued. "Though, in Mrs. F's case, I won't blame her if she doesn't remember us. We've been very well aware of JCJenson's 'memory suppression' protocols when it comes to their DDs."
F laid back in her seat with a smug look as she replied to her former superior. "Well, my friend on the station's a good tech gal. She's... waived that hindrance from me."
"I see, that means your still with us, am I right, Mrs. Lee?" Unlike her friends next to her, F was not startled by her original name being said aloud, rather smiling proudly as she saluted to the captain. "Good to see you again."
"Pleased to be here, Sir." F replied as she lowered her arm, glancing to her companions next to her as J spoke up.
"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Captain Preston Mitchell, commander of the USNV Vickers down at the stardock."
Wade gave a respectful salute to Preston as he spoke first. "It's an honor to meet you, Sir."
"Thank you, Mr. Carter. I've heard about your efforts from J, you did an admirable job back there, son." Wade failed to hide an embarrassed blush from the compliment, but it quickly faded as a beep sounded from a small device on the table. It was swiftly silenced by the captain as he tapped a button on the small, pyramid shaped timer, then facing Wade's group before continuing. "Though, as much as we could use some small talk, it'll have to wait till later."
"Indeed, we're running late at this point." Said another officer, a highly decorated member of the base with dark skin, dark grey hair and a thin beard. He immediately won the attention of everyone in the room as he spoke up. "I'm General Hugh Hood, overseer of this base. I'm certain you know some of the reasons you're here with us, correct?"
Wade nodded as he spoke to Hood. "Yeah, it's cause of those rogue agents from the JCJenson corporation." Glancing to J, the corporate drone nodded in affirmation before speaking herself.
"Tessa and I spent the last hours of yesterday evening clearing up the matter with General Hood, along with several other officials stationed here." She stopped as the middle monitor behind her flashed with a banner at the top, reading, "INCOMING TRANSMISSION", and in place of the USN emblem was a textless version of the JCJenson logo. Below the profile image was another two lines of text. "N. Jenson (Company Exec); Comms Source: Yottrite IV"
"And also told our boss about what happened here too, he wanted to give his say on this ordeal." Looking to the general, J asked him, "May I put him on?"
Hood only gave a nod of approval to the corporate drone before she picked up a remote on the table and tapped a button, accepting the call as the picture shifted to show a middle-aged man in a pristine-looking business suit on the screen.
Wade and Tina glanced to each other before J introduced their guest on the screen. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the CEO of JCJenson: Mr. Noor Jenson."
Jenson gave a pleased nod to his subordinate as he spoke to J. "Thank you for the pleasantries, J. I see we are ready to discuss our plans on dealing with this 'recall' disaster I've bore witness to on the news this morning?"
J nodded as she replied to her boss. "Indeed, I've explained to General Hood here about our efforts yesterday, and, as of recent, we've just received a message from a source we believe to be close to the company."
Mr. Jenson looked down to J attentively as he spoke to her. "Well, that's quite intriguing news, J. Do you have this message available for us to view?" J and Hood both nodded in affirmation, but didn't get an immediate reply as Jenson gazed to Wade and his friends. "...And I presume these are some of the drones rescued from one of the factories?"
Again, J nodded to her superior before explaining her colleagues. "Yes Mr. Jenson, the two drones at the front in particular were among those taken by the Administrator and their subordinates." Pointing an arm to Wade and Tina, she introduced the drone couple. "The disassembly drone here is Mr. Wade Carter, a brother to his-technically speaking-owner, the late Ron Carter. The latter helped us recover Wade during an initial raid inside the Nevada facility." When bringing up Ron, J gave an apologetic look to Wade as to show she did not mean to be offending on him and his brother's relationship. "And this is his romantic partner, Mrs. Tina Fowley. I heard she and her sister Jasmine are pilots."
Jenson looked over the two drones as his obedient employee described them to him, quietly sighing as Wade and Tina returned the gaze with nervous smiles. Once J finished, Jenson spoke to Wade. "I... would say it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carter. But, given recent events, I don't hold fault to you for feeling frustrated at me for my... former subordinate's actions."
Wade shook his head lightly, taking Jenson's light apology with a faint smile as he replied to the CEO. "Actually, I don't. The only person I have such feelings put towards is," He hesitated for a moment, his anger at Dr. Halloway returning for a short moment before he eased himself. "..That bastard Halloway."
"The feeling's mutual, Mr. Carter. Dr. Halloway has been trying my patience for years now, especially with you and your fellow disassembly drones." Looking to J, then F, he returned his gaze to Wade before questioning him on his new body. "I don't know if J has told you of this, but if there's one truth my company has admittedly not held up to for a while, it's our quality. Recently, some of my research staff here made blueprints for an upgraded variant of the disassembly drone design. It's intended to fix several faults we expected to be nonexistent previously, most notably that atrocious cooling unit."
As a schematic pulled up on the left monitor, everyone glanced to the improved design before F spoke up about it. "If I may ask, Mr. Jenson, how big of an improvement is this new cooling unit supposed to be?"
"Good question, F. Frankly, it's supposed to do away with the issue entirely. Saves us from sacrificing enormous supplies of oil for the poorly built unit in the previous iterations. We even tested it with a repaired drone just a few days ago, and it worked flawlessly." Then, glancing to Wade again, he questioned the former worker drone on his new form. "Speaking of, how does your enhanced body feel, Mr. Carter? I'm certain it feels better to not have to-"
"Actually, Mr. Jenson," Wade interrupted, pulling out one of his canteens as he answered the CEO on his upgrades. "I guess Halloway changed up the blueprints, cause unfortunately this new cooling unit didn't cure the overheating problem. I... kinda learned that the hard way." Wade glanced to Tina apologetically, still feeling bad from her seeing him eat the corpse of the dead murder drone back at the factory.
The corporate CEO grimaced in frustration as he took in Wade's statement, already intolerant of the head researcher's actions as he replied. "...I was worried about that, Edgar always likes to run things his own way, making excuses for that 'Administrator' he watches over." Taking an agitated breath, he continued on with his spew on the two culprits of yesterday's events. "It was only because of all the very impressive creations and enhancements she and her research team provided that I tolerated them for so long, but this..." Sitting up straight in front of the camera, Jenson finished sternly. "J said the Administrator... Cyn, I believe? She was apparently something worse than we presumed originally, and I'm very inclined to believe so after yesterday."
"As well as the program tied to the Administrator, the AbsoluteSolver." J clarified before receiving an agreeing nod from Mr. Jenson, standing corrected on his placing of blame.
Raising a hand, Nathan asked about the supposed plans. "Yeah, about this "Solver Project", what do we plan to do about that?"
"Good question, Nate." Tessa replied as she crossed her arms before looking to Jenson and beginning her explanation. "Initially, we were going to investigate the other factories spread across Earth in order to get some more info on the Administrator before things get worse. But, just this morning, it seems someone else saved us the trouble." Just as Tessa neared the end of her sentence, J held up the remote again, tapping a few buttons before the left monitor shifted to show a slightly grainy video onscreen.
The video only showed a single being, a worker drone, dressed in a chrome suit and bearing a set of yellow eyes. Behind them was what appeared to be a vacant room, a few shelves holding many books within them standing still in the back. The drone's visage indicated they were filled with immense anxiety, terrified of being caught as they spoke quietly to the camera.
"I can only hope someone gets this in time, they're gonna be on me once they find out the transmitter screens are down!" Turning the camera, he showed what appeared to be a large factory room, several more of the mysterious conveyor belts like at the factory slotted next to each other. It was hard to discern every detail due to not only the window reflection, but also the dark lighting in the inactive conveyor room. Filming the room beyond, the drone continued. "Dr. Halloway's a madman, he's got more of those stolen drones being brought here and he's going to be overseeing it in the afternoon tomorrow! I've seen what happened back in Nevada, I can't take this any longer! I'm at coordinates ##.######, -###.###### Please, send someo-"
The suspicious, partially scrambled transmission immediately cut off to static, leaving Wade, Tina, and their friends with confused expressions as Tessa spoke up. "Yeah, that caught me by surprise too."
"So, that guy says they got more drones being sent 'there', but... where is there, exactly?" Jasmine asked with immense curiosity.
"I was hoping you'd ask that, Mrs. Fowley." The technician replied as she glanced to J, who tapped a few more buttons on the remote before speaking over her boss-friend.
"While the transmission itself isn't much to work off of, our friends from Comms over here managed to intercept the signal earlier, and even better, discern where it originated from." As J started her explanation, the screen shifted once more to show a large city, with one skyscraper highlighted in red as it was zoomed towards on the screen. "That scrambled audio wasn't a simple glitch, it was intentionally done so as to hide key information for us to uncover. Upon cleaning up the message, we managed to recover a set of coordinates, which direct to this structure here, in San Francisco."
Wade and his friends stared at the building in shock, examining the tall structure as it stood over the shorter buildings in the city. Tina broke the silence in her gaze. "So, this is another factory? It looks... terribly different from the one we got out of."
"Not exactly, Mrs. Fowley." Mr. Jenson answered, Tina and the others looking to him as he continued. "THAT is the Administrator's main laboratory, its location was kept on the down low so other authorities and terrorist groups wouldn't find out what the buildings true purpose was." Sighing, Jenson completed his reply. "But, with this recent mistake of Halloway's, that place has lost all purpose for us at the company."
Wade raised a hand to speak. "So, we're going to pounce on that place? Get Halloway before he runs off again?"
"Exactly." General Hood replied as he looked up to Mr. Jenson. "This whole 'recovery/recruitment' effort has gotten out of hand all across Sol. We've gotten countless reports of people being killed because of this, be it the brutal robberies here in Nevada or the bloodbath on Ceres. Even if Mr. Jenson refuses to cooperate, this has become a dire matter for us now. One way or another, this insanity will be stopped with due haste."
The CEO nodded in acknowledgement before explaining his own plans for the mission. "Speaking of cooperation, upon seeing what was happening at Earth, I ordered a detachment of our corporate starships in orbit at the time to depart for Sol in order to help with investigating the situation. They're not warships, but they are well-armed. I'll dispatch them to your authority upon concluding this call." Glancing to Wade and his team for a moment, Jenson continued. "As for the mission, I may not have much of a say, but let it be known that you have my blessing to do whatever it takes to end this madness. I don't care what you do with Halloway or any of his lackeys, or what happens to that facility down there... I want that program shut down."
"Thank you for the extra hands, Mr. Jenson. We'll make sure this Administrator is dealt with." Hood replied gratefully as Wade sat firm in his seat, Tina and the others following suite.
"General?" The former worker drone said aloud, catching Hood's attention before he made his request. "I know I'm not a soldier, but I want to help with dealing with Halloway and his grunts. After what he did, after losing my brother, I can't rest until I see that man stopped."
Tina raised a finger as well. "As do I, Wade could use a hand with those people, and given how we did during our escape run out of that place, I think the two of us make quite the duo." She glanced to Wade with a smirk as she referenced their combat prowess when flying together.
Nathan and F stood up before the latter gave her own request. "Sir, I wish to take part in this mission as well. I can also recommend Wade for you too, as I fought alongside him during the factory raid."
"Wouldn't mind giving a hand myself! And I'm sure my pal Kurtis would love to help, he's here at the base too!" Nathan added with a confident smirk, the group's determination encouraging Jasmine to stand up as well.
"I'd like to help too." She stated simply, a smile on her face as the general and his companions observed the five guests.
Admittedly, Hood knew it would be a bit absurd to allow these people to take part in an operation which would certainly involve bloodshed, especially considering most of them merely had civilian status at the moment. But, upon careful evaluation of the five, their desire to see this problem dealt with, and the fact that some of them had experience on the field...
He paused his train of thought as Captain Mitchell spoke to him. "General? I read up on the Fowleys' files when we recovered Mrs. Jasmine here, they provided service in their early careers." He smirked to the pilot sisters as he finished adding his say. "And to be frank, we need more people like them here. The records we have of them showed them to be damn fine pilots."
Tina blushed at the praise from Mitchell as she spoke to the general. "That is true, we uh... did get discharged for our... 'fancy maneuvering'."
"Sir?" Jasmine said, the general's attention on her as she added to the conversation. "Even if our flying is a bit out of protocol, Tina saved a lot of people on that starjet a few days back. I can promise you, she's an excellent woman to have at the wheel."
Glancing to Wade again, Hood took in his face, one of begging desperation as he spoke once more. "Please, Sir. My brother, the troops he brought from the Coalition, Halloway's gotten them all killed cause of this. I want to do this. I HAVE to do this, at least for them."
The good general took a deep, quiet breath, considering his decision once more before finally revealing it to Wade and his friends. "Mr. Carter, Fowleys? I'm probably making myself a fool for saying this, but you're permitted to assist us in this mission."
The drone couple contained their gratefulness in the form of ecstatic grins as Wade replied to the general. "Thanks, General. We won't let you down."
"And Mrs. Lee?" Hood said as he glanced to F, who returned the gesture as he told her, "You're technically under Mr. Jenson's authority, whatever his answer is, it's mine as well."
Bringing her yellow-orange eyes to her CEO, F awaited Mr. Jenson's answer. "F, yes? I heard Mr. Hood call you by a different name just now, I assume you have some experience with the army?"
The warrior drone nodded as she explained herself. "I once inherited the name of Felicity Lee, Mr. Jenson. I served under the USN Defense Forces before joining the DD Division." Then, glancing to the military staff near her, she finished with, "I had hoped to provide my enhancements to the Force one day."
Jenson gave a hint of a proud smile as he finally gave his decision. "Well, it seems you'll finally get that chance. From now on, even after this mission on Earth is over with, you're hereby dispatched to serve under the USN."
F admittedly couldn't hide her excited smirk as she flung a salute to her now former boss. "Thank you Sir!"
Looking up to Jenson, General Hood asked the CEO, "Mr. Jenson, how long until your ships can reach Earth?"
Jenson glanced down at his communication console as he answered the military leader. "At max speed, their Ion drives should be able to bring them into orbit in as little as one to two days. I believe there should be some ships within the system that could help as well."
"Signal them when you can, Mr. Jenson. We could use all the help we can get from them." The CEO nodded to Hood as he stood firmly to the viewer, the general turning to face Wade and his colleagues. "And Mr. Carter? We'll be mobilizing our forces immediately after this meeting concludes. It'll be a minute, but I want you to gather whatever items and belongings you'll need for this operation. Be ready to head to the flight pads in no more than three hours."
"Understood Sir!" Wade said with a salute, Tina, Jasmine and Nathan giving their own as Jasmine raised a finger.
"What about the area around the lab? That place looks like it's in the middle of the city."
J raised a finger as she told Jasmine and the others about their resolution of the civilian obstacle. "Shortly after reporting our findings on the transmission, Hood told us that they were sending in some teams to clear out the civilian population within several miles of the facility. Once we get there, it should be of no concern."
Jasmine sighed in relief as Tina spoke up. "So the people should be safe from any sort of danger?"
"Correct, Mrs. Tina." Preston answered before continuing. "Given the resistance Halloway and his men showed during the Coalition's raid, they most certainly won't hold back there."
"One more thing, Sir." Nathan asked. "The Coalition's going to help us out with this too, right?"
"You can count on it, Mr. Nathan." The Vickers' captain replied as he looked to J, then to Jenson as he spoke further. "I met the leader of the Coalition's detachment working with us when I was introduced to J and Mrs. Elliott here, they intend to see this conflict finished. I highly doubt they're willing to sit back and let us do this by ourselves."
"And their help will be much appreciated." Hood added, everyone's attention returned to him as he looked to Tessa, curious eyes scanning her holographic form. "And Mrs. Elliott, if I may. Do you mind heading down here to assist us in our investigations later on?"
"Funny you say that, General. I'm almost done with my own snooping around on the JCJ up in orbit, Cyn has some small departments of hers aboard, and I thought I'd gather some more intel before coming down." Glancing to Mr. Jenson, she saw him giving an understanding nod before returning her gaze to the military staff. "I should be down there by the evening, judging by where you're located."
"Do what you must, Mrs. Elliott. We could use whatever you find." Hood replied firmly as he turned once more to the JCJenson CEO. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Jenson. We will get to the bottom of this."
"It's my pleasure, General." Glancing to J and Tessa, he spoke to them once more. "J? Contact me when you've finished with Halloway and his Administrator."
"It'll be done, Mr. Jenson." The obedient servant answered before saluting firmly, receiving a final nod from her boss before he ended the transmission.
With their off-world guest out of the way, Hood looked to Wade and his friends, J, Tessa and Captain Mitchells sharing the gaze with them as the general spoke to them in finality. "Well, you know what comes next everyone. You're all dismissed for now. And remember, landing zone by 1300."
"We'll be there Sir." Wade said with a nod as he and his friends stood up, pushing in their chairs before making their way out to the door.
As they neared it, Wade stopped for a moment as they heard Hood call to one of his friends. "And F?" The soldier drone looked to the general as he continued. "Before we depart, would you mind changing your uniform? I believe it could help with identifying you from the other disassembly drones more easily." Glancing to J, then back to F, he finished with, "I recall hearing about the most formidable drones having clones prepared, yes?"
"Correct, Sir. I'll stop by the nearest barracks while I can." F replied before turning back to the door with her colleagues, Wade opening the door for them all as they passed through. After them, Wade passed through himself, shutting the door to the meeting room as he returned to the lobby.
Walking about together, F spoke to Wade and the others. "Well, that went smoothly. I'll be heading down to the barracks, then head over to your place to help out."
"Actually," Wade replied, raising a finger up as he asked his fellow murder drone, "You think you could bring your friends over? We could get to know each other while we're getting ready."
F glanced to Nathan with a smile before returning her eyes to Wade. "I could see about that. You're gonna like them, I can promise you that."
Taking Tina's hand, Wade walked with his girlfriend alongside Jasmine and the others, nearing the hallway they came through as they prepared for the walk back to the apartment.

My Razer 15 3070 is stuck in sleep mode. I’ve checked the sub and tried multiple steps. Currently there is no battery in my laptop because of bloat and have been just using the laptop plugged in with no problems. 1. Held the power button, saw a white flash, turned it on and still green light showing sleep. 2. Removed the CMOS battery waited and reinstalled it and repeated the 1st step, and again still green led slowly breathing.
I’ve tried using an external monitor and holding the power button and unplugging it, still no luck. With the power on while in sleep mode fans are still, and the laptop gets warm. I do recall yesterday or day before there was a windows update when I shut it down. Any advice would be great. Could the CMOS battery just need replaced? Is there any method that I could some how get into bios? I’ve tried a few things and holding certain keys when trying to power on and just black screen and green led breathing.

Synopsis:
An engineer in another world—blending science and magic to achieve greatness in a world where skills and levels reign supreme.
—
Ethan was just a plain old engineer, but everything changed when he was reborn into a world of skills, levels, and magic. With his advanced knowledge far ahead of the time period he finds himself in, this new reincarnated life will be much different than his last, especially because he can construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct runes—something no one else can do.
But with royal politics, looming tax collectors, a mountain of debt, dungeon incursions, cults, and hostile fantasy races mixing together into a cocktail of bullshit that threatens to bury his dreams; Ethan must bridge the gap between steel and sorcery to grow stronger. — Runecrafting is slow burn. — What to Expect: - Weak to very strong progression - Hardcore wish fulfillment - A balance of action, kingdom building, and runecrafting. - MC will trigger an industrial revolution, revolutionize magic, modernize agriculture, communication, commerce, textile production, education, transportation, sanitation, weapons manufacturing, leisure & entertainment, and medicine.
Next >

Chapter 01

-1-
Ethan’s fists pounded the punching bag, sending a rapid series of jabs that landed with resounding thumps, each strike punctuated by ragged breaths. Sweat dripped from his brow, stinging his eyes, but he refused to stop, refused to surrender to the burning in his muscles or the rawness of his knuckles. He remained focused on punching.
Around him, the rest of the boxing team rested, even the coach looked like he needed a breather. But Ethan couldn’t afford to slow down—not with the first round of eliminations looming.
More, Ethan thought, his muscles burning as he threw another combination of jabs and cross punches. More, more, more.
Boxing had never been his choice; it was a path forced upon him by a father with unfulfilled dreams. Yet somewhere along the way, the thrill of the fight had ignited a fire within Ethan—a primal need to test the boundaries of his endurance, to feel alive in a way no textbook could provide.
But now his father lay dying in a hospital bed, and Ethan was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. His muscles burned and his knuckles were raw. But he couldn’t stop.
“Oy, mate, you should take a break.”
Jacob’s voice cut through Ethan’s reverie, and he turned to face his friend, chest heaving. “I can keep going. I’m fine.”
Jacob shook his head, concern etched across his features. “You’re going to end up hurting yourself. Listen, I know you’re worried about the eliminations and your dad, but you’ve got this. You’ll be fine. You’ve trained so hard. Harder than any of us, mate.” Jacob placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
“It’s not enough,” Ethan stepped away from the punching bag. “Not yet.”
“What do you mean? You’ve improved a ton since you first started, and you’ve gotten to this level faster than anyone else. There’s no way you’re getting cut from the team.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” Ethan said, sighing as he ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.
“Listen, man,” Jacob said, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I get that you’re nervous. It’s normal, okay? But I’ve seen you out there. You’re good. Really good. If anything, the rest of us are the ones who should be worried—”
Before Jacob could continue, Ethan’s phone rang, the sound loud in the otherwise silent gym.
Looking at his phone made him frown and excuse himself. The caller ID was a familiar one. With his phone pressed against his ears, he walked down the corridor, leaving the other members of the boxing team behind.
“Hello?” Ethan said into the phone.
Then, his world tilted on his axis.
-2-
Ethan hated funerals.
It was a strange thing to say, and yet, there he was, thinking that exact same thing as he stood at the side, watching as a small crowd gathered around. The smell of freshly turned earth was thick in the air, along with a heavy dose of sorrow and grief. Or maybe that was his imagination; after all, most were likely putting on a show. A wake that lasted all of ten minutes. A quick eulogy. The final plop of dirt onto the polished wood coffin. Then they were gone. Just like that, they were gone.
His father’s funeral was over just like that.
Ethan waited a while longer after all the mourners had dispersed, then finally turned to look at his mother. His mother sat slumped in the front pew of the church; her gaze fixed on the ground. He sat beside his mother silently. She looked older today, like all the fight and life had just seeped from her body. They didn’t speak a word for the longest while, but finally, his mother broke the silence.
“Do you blame me?”
“No,” he said automatically.
You do, a small voice said in the back of his head. Because maybe, if they hadn’t sent him away, he could’ve pursued his dreams...
“Thank you,” his mother said, the relief in her eyes far too apparent. She wrapped her arms around herself. Her hands trembled. She swallowed audibly before she continued. “I was such a stupid little girl when we married. I had no choice but to leave for Dubai because...”
“You don’t need to explain anything.” Ethan looked down at his knuckles. “I understand.”
“He always blamed himself,” she said suddenly, and Ethan frowned. “For not just letting you into civil engineering. For pressuring you into, well, violence.”
Ethan smiled wryly, staring up at the empty rafters overhead.
Such violence, Ethan, a voice whispered into his ears. Focus on your studies, not on hurting people. You’ll have a bright future, I’m sure of it.
Ethan sighed as he felt the memory rise unbidden in his mind. It wasn’t the first time his mother had spoken to him like that, and it wouldn’t be the last.
You can’t always rely on your fists, she would say. Sometimes, words are all you need. They can change lives, even save lives. They can be the difference between a happy life and a miserable one. Remember that.
Yeah, well, she failed to see it wasn’t hurting people he was after, but pushing himself beyond his limits. To prove to himself that he could. To feel the limits of his body, and surpass them.
To feel alive.
“Your father wanted the best for you,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Ethan gave his mother a sad smile. He talked with his mother a little bit after, but eventually, he excused himself.
She hugged him before he left. A tight, almost desperate squeeze that seemed to drag out for longer than it really did. Ethan wasn’t entirely sure how to respond and wasn’t able to think of anything better than giving her a couple of awkward pats on the back.
Then, when somewhere nice, he lit a cigarette. Stupid, useless, and unhealthy, but he had to do something to let off steam or his entire body was going to burst apart like a firecracker.
When it was nearly time for the cigarette to burn itself out, he suddenly got engulfed in bright light. He didn’t think, nor could he; it was just way too fast.
The last thought he had was something along the lines of ‘the fuck?’ before he crashed face-first into space-time itself.
-3-
Ethan slammed his head against the plush velvet pillow, groaning. Post-reincarnation—transmigration?—headaches were a real pain, especially when you woke up in the body of a drunken wastrel named Theodore Lockheart, the most indebted, despised, fucked up noble in the entire bordertowns—lands that were on the border of the world of the living; lands that were under the constant threat of the dead.
He was tired, irritable, and he had a headache so annoying it was almost as if his skull was split open. Not to mention, his nose was throbbing in pain from what he could only guess had been a one-sided beatdown.
Had the Baron gotten beaten to a pulp somehow?
It was possible, after all, Ethan did remember snippets of Theodore’s recent memories—nothing more than that, though. Theodore tended to suit up as a rich merchant. And he’d likely gone to the bar after losing his fortune earlier in the night, and then had likely fucked a wench or two, vented on the poor women, gotten punched and kicked out.
Groaning, Ethan peeled himself out of bed and forced himself to move. He had things he wanted to do today, like sit somewhere nice and contemplate the meaning of existence—or smoke cigarettes. But sadly, he had none, and he despised alcohol.
Strange, Theodore—no, Ethan, thought. Why do I so easily believe in all this? And why am I so easily accepting that I’m this bastard now?
Though the question was there, Ethan found that it didn’t bring up any emotions. It was like an empty sentence in his thoughts, with nothing behind it.
Ding! System Initiating…
Consciousness transferred...
Subject: Ethan
Social integration protocols activated.
Linguistic database uploaded. Communication in all known languages will be facilitated.
Confirmation: Subject has all their memories upon induction. Check.
Disclaimer: This is not a dream simulation. This is a permanent transfer. Subject has been induced to fully believe this reality, but nothing else inside the subject has been altered.
Confirmation: Memories and core identity remain unaltered.
Warning: The subject will perceive everything as real.
Directive: Enjoy the New World. Second chance protocols initiated.
The System has awoken within you. [Nur] is a world unimaginable power awaits. You, Ethan, have the chance to become extraordinary.
A [Quest] approaches!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Magic Sensitivity]!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Magic Perception]!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Myriad Tongue]!
Ding! Please brace for loss of consciousness!
“What in the god-fucking-damned hell—?” Ethan muttered, then fell unconscious. When Ethan woke up again, a screen flashed in front of him.
Please select your preferred Class...
The screen, Ethan found, didn’t elicit any reaction out of him. It wasn’t shocking, nor unbelievable, it was just as if it was a universal truth he’d come to believe since childhood. Like a phone’s existence, or the internet, perhaps. The fact that he thought that way made him sigh. He just hoped anything else inside him hadn’t been changed.
Ethan looked through the page that appeared in front of him.
[Warrior (Common)]
Function: Frontline combatant
Prerequisite: None
Description: A Common-Ranked Class. Grants basic proficiency with all melee weapon types (sword, spear, ax, etc.)
Specialization Paths: Available after further training and/or meeting certain requirements: [Barbarian], [Knight], [Paladin], [Cavalryman], [Mercenary] (and more)
[Archer (Common)]
Function: Ranged Damage Dealer
Prerequisite: None
Description: Basic proficiency with bows and arrows.
Specialization Paths:
Adjacent: Unlockable after further training: [Thief], [Assassin] (and more)
Advanced: Upon reaching specific requirements: [Spirit Archer], [Magic Archer] (and more)
[Mage (Common)]
Function: Ranged Magic User
Prerequisite: None
Description: Basic application of magical abilities.
Specialization Paths: Unlockable after further study: [Warlock], [Alchemist], [Summoner] (and more)
[Healer (Common)]
Function: Support - Restoration and Enhancement
Prerequisite: A [Faith].
Description: Devoted healer, blessed with divine magic, requires [Faith] in a deity. A healer’s heart heals the spirit of ailing beings, providing great spiritual buffs. Can heal wounds and ailments of allies. Can enhance allied attributes and resistances.
Specialization Paths: Unlockable after advanced training (may vary by race or deity): [Temple Priest], [Battle Medic], [Nature Mender] (and more)
After looking through the available Classes, it didn’t take long for Ethan to immediately dismiss both the [Healer] and [Warrior]. [Healer] would be too weak unless he got to its Specialization Paths—not to mention he’d need to have faith in some god, which he did not—and [Warrior] meant he’d need to be close range all the time. Ethan didn’t like risk, thus that idea went to waste as fast as a blade through butter. That left him with two options, and a more or less clear idea of which choice to make.
[Archer] was dismissed for the sole reason that it didn’t appeal to him much, although he was indeed curious as to why it had [Thief] and [Assassin] as its Adjacent Specialization Paths. Regardless, there was only one choice left: Mage—something he’d have chosen anyway given that the system had given him [Magic Sensitivity] and [Magic Perception], although he’d yet to test those skills out. They seemed passive anyway.
Ethan selected his chosen Class.
Congratulations! You are now an [Unranked Mage].
You are capable of casting minor, beginner-level magics.
You can use magical implements and perform incantations with limited versatility.
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Basic Magic Script]!
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Elemental Spells]!
Due to your [Magic Perception] and [Magic Sensitivity], the effectiveness of magical spells and skills are now increased by 10%!
“That’s it?” Ethan blinked. “I would’ve expected, I don’t know, for my entire body to feel on fire, or something.”
Not that he ever had that happen in his life. Fiction really put false expectations into his mind.
Theodore Lockheart
[Race: Human]⨽[Rank: G]⨽[Level: 0]
[Class: Mage]⨽[Rank: Unranked]⨽[Level: 0]
[Skills]: Basic Magic Script (Lvl. 1), Elemental Spells (Lvl. 1), Magic Sensitivity (Lvl. 1), Magic Perception (Lvl. 1), Myriad Tongue (Lvl. 1)
[Titles: None]
Ethan sifted through the skills to better understand what he could do now.
Basic Magic Script – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: This skill allows you to understand and write basic magical notation of the world. Connection Effect: [Basic Magic Script] has established a Connection with one of your existing skills [Magic Perception], essentially giving you the ability to not only comprehend simple spells but also create the runes required to cast them. However, complex and advanced theories will likely be beyond your grasp at this level.
Elemental Spells – Level 1
Type: Active
Effect: You can cast basic elemental spells. At this level, your spells are limited in power and complexity.
Magic Sensitivity – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You possess a heightened awareness of magical energies in your immediate surroundings. You can feel faint tingles or experience subtle temperature changes when magic is being used nearby. This ability helps you identify areas with magical activity or sense the presence of magic. However, pinpointing the exact source or nature of the magic might be difficult at this level.
Magic Perception – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You can see the underlying runes whenever a spell is cast in front of you. However, deciphering complex spells to view their runes will likely be blurry or misleading at this level***. Connection Effect:*** [Magic Perception] has established a Connection with one of your existing skills, [Basic Magic Script], essentially giving you the ability to not only comprehend simple spells but also create the runes required to cast them. However, complex and advanced theories will likely be beyond your grasp at this level.
Myriad Tongue – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You can understand and speak all the languages of this world. This skill allows you to communicate with most of the species you encounter. Complex conversations will likely require further development of this skill. Connection Effect: [Myriad Tongue] has established a Connection with [Basic Magic Script], essentially giving you an inherent understanding of the runic language of magic.
Holy... So, this world’s really like a game, huh? There are no stats, though. Why? Ethan rubbed his chin. The skills were nice. Ethan was excited to test his skills out when someone knocked once on the door and entered. “My lord,” said the man Ethan quickly recognized as one of his advisors, Cedric, “I’ve received notice that the duke’s men have begun their journey from the Capital.” He bowed. “They’re coming to collect tax.”
Saying so, Cedric left Ethan to ponder.
Tax? What?
In this world of swords and spells, tax consisted of the rarest of monster parts and materials. Priceless Relics were found in the Deadlands just out the border—lands that were full of dangers of the highest caliber, along with endless rewards. And because these materials and items were all of a higher value, not paying tax could easily put a small town like this into debt, unless the town managed to somehow attract a wealthy and profitable industry or find themselves a noble willing to spend his coin to help their people.
Such a noble couldn’t be Theo, clearly. After all, he was just a run-of-the-mill spoiled brat from a prominent aristocratic family—the typical wastrel born lucky into money and power without ever needing to work a single day in his entire life.
Regardless, the tax was Ethan’s issue now, and he wasn’t ready to deal with it given that Theo already had quite a debt in the first place.
Ethan’s eyes deadened.
Next >
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I want to thank Meatcanyon and Wendigoon for starting Creepcast. I've played around with writing horror, and here is my first short story. I will post it for free in a few other places to see what people think. Please enjoy!
A Hike to Remember
By R.L. Oclen
Chapter 1
A woman sits with hastily pulled-up fire-red hair in the waiting room of the state patrol station. The procedurally sterile off-white walls and decade-old magazines do little for comfort. With her head hanging low, her shoulders pushing forward, and her boots rapidly tapping on the floor, something has to give.
"Please just let her be okay." The woman growls as a pair of officers come in from the field. The officers' demeanors quickly change when they see the familiar face.
"Tabitha, did Officer Nichols call you?" one of the state patrol officers asked sympathetically.
"Yes, he asked me to come in and pick up a few things," Tabitha said, shooting back a muted look.
" I'll let them know you're here." The officer said, nodding to Tabitha as they passed the security door. Tabitha leaned back against the hard plastic chair, staring blankly into the fluorescent light. She had done this dance in the macabre repeatedly over the past month. The last image of her younger sister, Lisa, still burned in her mind. Tabitha had always been protective over her younger sister after their parents died. A pang of guilt shoots through her chest as she thinks about her and Lisa's argument.
"Tabitha Hymm, Officer Nichols is ready for you."
"Okay," she stood up, shaking off her guilt, and followed the officer back. The familiar surroundings of the state patrol station blurred as Tabitha stared forward. She followed the officer as they came to a rustic wooden office door, which was embossed with "Officer Nichols."
The escorting officer turns the old brass door knob. "Sir, I have Tabitha Hymm here." A grizzled West Virginia Highway State Patrol veteran sits behind the desk and nods. The escorting officer steps aside, pushing the door open as Tabitha pushes past him and slumps in the awaiting chair like so many times before. An uncomfortable relationship had formed between the two, born out of necessity and duty.
"Cup of coffee?"
"No thanks. Let's just cut to the chase. You don't have anything new?"
The worn laugh lines and Officer Nichols's face flattens. His eyebrows contour sympathetically as he shakes his head.
"Tabitha, I don't have anything else new for you. I wanted to give you the clothes returned from the lab." Her face darkened at the same response she had heard many times.
"As we discussed two weeks ago, there is nothing new and no signs of struggle or foul play," Officer Nichols said while placing a box marked evidence on the table and sliding it forward. Tabitha began to weep at the realization of Lisa's clothes in front of her. In a coordinated queue, Officer Nichols brought out a box of tissues. Reluctantly, Tabitha took a few moments to unblur her vision.
"How does someone stop their car in the middle of the Remington West Virginia State Park, lock it, and then walk into the woods?" Officer Nichols clasped his hands together and sighed at her worn question.
"Tabitha, I wish I had an answer for why your sister stopped her car in the woods and simply walked off. We're still going through her cell phone, but no signs exist that anyone forced her. On that Tuesday morning, she pulled over to the side of the road, secured her car, and walked away." Officer Nichols said empathetically.
Tabitha became stoic at the same explanation she had heard many times before. " So what next?"
"You should go back to Ohio, and I'll contact you as soon as I have more information." She winced at Officer Nichols's words. Reality began to pull at her that bills and work wouldn't wait much longer.
"If I leave, she's gone for good."
" You staying won't bring her back." Officer Nichols said sympathetically.
" So is that it? She's just gone?"
" Tabitha, I'll be honest with you. In cases like this… when people do things like this. Recovery is harder in the spring due to the weather and the animals. You know her mental condition better than I do. I can't explain why she did what she did. But until I find a solution, a suicide note, some intention, or body. She's not here. Tabitha, I'm-"
" Don't you fucking say sorry!" Tabitha stood up, screaming at Officer Nichols, throwing the plastic chair backward against the wall. " I should just look for myself."
"No!" Officer Nichols said momentarily, gripping the desk as his face hardened, then relaxed. Tabitha was caught off guard by Officer Nichols, who was normally composed. "Tabitha, I know this is unbearable. I've sat on this side of the desk and had these conversations. Trust me; I need you to be safe if I need your help later."
Tabitha nods, knowing Officer Nichols is right. She reaches down, picks up the evidence box of her sister's belongings, and leaves.
" Tabitha, if you're heading home, don't stop your car; just keep driving." Tabitha stops to look at Officer Nichols, feeling an eeriness to his words.
" Goodbye, Officer Nichols," Tabitha said as she closed the rustic wooden door behind her. She counted the tiles as she exited the West Virginia State Patrol Station. Placing her sister's belongings carefully in the back seat of her Jeep, Tabitha then sat momentarily behind the steering wheel, staring at the emblem. The familiar numbness washed over Tabitha as she pushed the start button. She pulled onto the highway, driving to the motel that had been home for the last month or so. Muted pop music accented the drive back as her mind raced with questions. Once inside the two-and-a-half-star motel room, Tabitha sat her sister's belongings on the corner table, crumbled onto the bed, and cried.
***
Tabitha wiped the steam from the slightly spotted mirror above the bathroom sink. The hot water from the shower felt good and loosened some of the stress from her body. Looking back at her, Tabitha's face was framed by damp curls around her shoulders. Her face marked the stress of the past month. Frowning, she examined the bags under her eyes; sleep had to come tonight. Walking into the living area, She changed into her favorite gym shorts and oversized sleep shirt. The alarm on her phone flashed "7:00 am," so she could drive home five hours after breakfast.
Tabitha hated feeling comfortable in this once strange room, but falling asleep was getting easier now. Her eyes closed slowly as the ceiling fan droned evenly. At first, nothing came in her dreams, but she let her guard down and slipped further into sleep.
As she dreamed of floating overhead like a bird of prey, Tabitha soared over the vast Remington National Park. The high noon sun bore down on the crisp woods, perfectly contrasting sky and forest. The heat of the sun felt good on her feathers. Distant cries rang out through the dream-like forest, catching her attention. Tabitha tilted her wings toward the screams, feeling a sense of familiar curiosity.
She now recognized the sobs and cries for help as she flew closer, her sharp eyes locked on her sister leaning against a large oak tree. She glided overhead without care, examining the situation below. Lisa clung to the tree, her eyes darting back and forth, scanning upwards. Lisa's face reflected desperation, looking for help in any direction. Tabitha lazily circles Lisa several times before perching on a sturdy branch higher in one of the oak trees. She watched Lisa intently with hunger. She bellowed deeply, hearing the unnatural sound she made, catching Lisa's eyes. Lisa's expression changed; she became calm, almost uncaring, as she stared back at Tabitha's form. Hunger grew exponentially in Tabitha as she spread her large wings. Her large eyes gaze down at Lisa before diving straight for her sister.
Tabitha jolts awake to the alarm on her phone flashing "7:23 AM." She breathes in sharply, shaking off the last horrible thoughts from the reoccurring nightmare. The strange details become more vivid each time. The lingering memories of folk stories her mother told sat in the back of her mind. In those stories, the dead would reach out in dreams as a matter of warning. Leaning back on the headboard, she searched for the advice her psychologist gave her. During their last session, Dr. Ryland explained dreams are a form of self-actualization of guilt. He told Tabitha that it was natural to feel responsible when losing a loved one in this manner.
Tabitha grumbled, lightly running her hands through her red hair; she pushed everything to the back of her mind. "Get it together!" She grumbled to herself. She pushed herself off the bed and got ready to leave. It was going to be a long trip home, and the only thing she could do now was leave things in the authorities' hands. Packing up was pretty easy since she only cycled through the outfits she brought. The local laundromat must have made a small fortune off her. Tabitha took one last look at the box of Lisa's belongings before throwing them in her duffle bag. She was thankful she didn't have to spend another night in this room.
***
Tabitha sat behind the wheel, waiting for the 90's model minivan to finish their order so she could grab a breakfast burrito on the way out. Considering the situation, the Deer Stop Family Restaurant did have a good breakfast. Finally, pulling up to the 70-style drive-in board, Tabitha rolled off the order she had been accustomed to. " I'll take a large iced tea with the double breakfast burrito meal and hash browns, please."
" Would you like some happy hot sauce with that?"
" That's fine, and a few ketchup packets as well."
" Your total is $8.79. Please pull around."
She pulled around to her window, flashed her debit card, got the receipt, and waited for her food. Luckily, the young woman serving her wasn't very talkative in the morning. The last thing she wanted was a conversation about the weather or meaningless small talk.
" Here's your large iced tea and breakfast meal. Ketchup and happy hot sauce are inside."
" Thanks," Tabitha said while mustering her best fake smile. The woman only smiled and nodded as the service window automatically closed. She pulled into the parking lot and dug into breakfast. Turning the radio to the weather, Tabitha sat back and enjoyed her meal. The local DJ read through the headlines, making nonpartisan comments about politics and grumbling about improving the economy. Tabitha powered through the updates of the "out-of-state woman" who'd gone missing. It was nice that the local radio station gave Lisa's name, description, and a missing person's number for sightings or leads. Tabitha even interviewed with the local news and radio stations, hoping it would bring Lisa home. But she soon found all it brought was a sorrowful look from the locals as she interacted with them in her day-to-day life.
Finishing the last of her hash browns, Lisa wadded up everything in the paper bag and threw it in the back seat. The 9 AM weather report said it was nothing but clear skies and sun the rest of the week. Tabitha flipped the radio over to the greatest hit station, pulled out of the parking lot, and began her trip home. She memorized the roads, every bend and turn in the early weeks as she frantically looked for Lisa. There's something hypnotic about the trees: the way they flow together. The trees' green tops and the oak trees' wide trunks were a relaxing view. Tabitha enjoyed the lazy s-curves of the road, bending and winding around the hills and the trees. The occasional farmhouse or field dotted the sides of the road as she made her way to the main highway.
The blur of a semi-truck snapped Tabitha's attention as she pulled up to the mouth of the highway. She had four and a half hours ahead of her, which would be a long ride. Tabitha pulled onto the highway and picked up speed, noting sparse traffic. She relaxed into her seat, letting her gaze gloss over the blur of green foliage. Without warning, Tabitha caught a large shadow from the corner of her left eye. When she registered the black feathery form, Tabitha tensed up and slammed on the brakes as it swooped across the vehicle's hood. Quickly, she pulled the car safely off the road. She couldn't determine exactly what it was, but it was bigger than any bird she'd seen. It was a bird, right? Tabitha turned off her Jeep and grabbed the keys and cell phone. Standing before the Jeep, she looked over the grill to see if she made contact with the entity.
Bewildered, she scanned the tree line, spotting something in the distance. Sitting in the clearing of the large oak forest was an enormous black owl. It stared intently at Tabitha with bright, shiny yellow eyes. She pushed the lock button on her keys, causing the jeep to beep securely. She turned, looking across the open field, an enormous black owl perched in the upper branches of an old oak tree. Each step she took away from the road piqued her curiosity. Soon, Tabitha stood in the middle of the open field, staring intently into the eyes of the enormous owl.
The horn of a passing semi-truck blared, pulling Tabitha's attention away from the mysterious large creature. She looked back and saw that she had walked farther away from the Jeep than she had thought. She glanced back to the forest line only to see the enormous owl was deeper into the woods than before. She narrowed her vision to find the two large, bright yellow eyes staring back. Had it moved? The day's stress, care, and worry suddenly poured out of Tabitha. It was replaced by only curiosity and overbearing tranquility. She warmly smiled for the first time in months as her feet pulled her further into the woods.
Chapter 2
The tug of gravity pulls Tabitha to her senses as her body reacts, falling forward. Her arms thrust forward, bracing for impact. Water rushes around her face as she struggles to get her bearings. Quickly, Tabitha pushed herself up in the ankle-high stream she fell in. The haze slowly clears from her mind as she stares at the muddy water. The dull ache throbs up her legs. Tabitha can smell the sweat from her clothes. Her face contorted in panic as she quickly stood up in the water, looking for her cell. Thankfully, the device was still in her pocket, dry and unscathed.
"One o'clock. How can that be?" Tabitha says, slowly looking up from the screen to see the vast, dense West Virginia forest encompassing her view. She shakes her head back and forth with disbelief. A smile gently spreads across her face, with the last bit of tranquility leaving her body. How did I get out here? Her breathing becomes faster as her pulse begins to quicken. I'm in the forest. I'm all alone—just like Lisa!
"NO, NO, NO, NO! THIS FUCKING CAN'T BE HAPPENING TO ME!" Tabitha screams into the void of trees. Her eyes well up with tears as she crumbles to her knees, gripping her phone tightly to her chest. Her sobs ring out through the thick oak trees. Her breath slows a little as she regains her composure. She begins to search her mind for anything. What is the last thing I can remember? The image of the black shadow crossing her vision while driving flashes into her mind.
"Okay, I got out of the Jeep, the…then what?" Tabitha says, trying to refresh her memories. She thinks her memory is not just gone; it's a black void in her mind. Complete blackness fills her mind right after remembering locking the Jeep and then turning to see the…
"Fuck I saw something. What was it!" Tabitha says, frustrated with her mind. She knew there must be a logical reason she was out here. Officer Nichols warned her not to go looking for her sister. She wasn't stupid; she just said that as a last-ditch effort to get him to do anything. Now I'm here.
"Run!" Tabitha heard Lisa's voice in her ear. Before she could turn around, she heard a loud bellowing coming from overhead. Fear shot down her back, reminding her of the nightmares she had over the past month. She shot forward full bore as something crashed to the ground behind her. Glancing back as she ran, a black mass of feathers convulsed between the broken branches of the trees. Its slick black feathers rippled across its surface as its bones crackled and flesh tore. Its body contorted and twisted from the shape of an owl to something bigger.
"Run, Tabby! Don't let it catch you!" Tabitha pushed forward, hearing Lisa's scream beside her face. Her breath burned in her chest, and she moved past the old oak trees bent over the creek bed. Her feet slammed rapidly, splashing along the side of the creek. Another loud bellow comes from behind as the trees bend and break to the force behind her. A small opening in the rocky creek bed catches her sight from the left. She dives into the crevasses, not caring where the fathoms lead. Tabitha tumbles in the pitch black, taking scrapes and sharp jabs from the rocks as she tumbles further into the void.
She finally tumbles to a stop on the sandy, wet floor of the cave. Her body aches from the sudden burst of exhaustion. The cool water running around her body from the creek is soothing despite her bumps and bruises. Pushing herself up, she scoots out of the water. Feeling her way forward, she finds a dry spot to collect herself. Quickly pushing her hand into her pocket, she finds her phone undamaged.
The sound of footsteps pushing against the creek fills the void around Tabitha as the light steps move closer to each other up the underground creekbed. She slowly removes her cell from her pocket and then shines the camera light toward the sound. A pair of scratched and bruised pale bare legs hold up a frail form in front of her in the creek. She wears the darkness as a shroud with nothing else to clothe her. Tabitha froze, not wanting to shine the light further in the pale form before her.
"Tabby, turn your light off. You need to save your battery." Tabitha turned off the light and then rushed forward, embracing Lisa—the how or why didn't matter, only the now. The pale form hugged her tightly. Tabitha felt her cold, bare skin. The darkness couldn't hide the feeling of the marks across her back and torso.
"Lisa, I'm-"
"Hush! I don't have much time. This wasn't your fault! I'm with Mom and Dad now. You have to survive, Tabby! Listen. Wait until the sun shines through the cracks, making a trail out. Follow it down the creek until you come to the opening. You'll see a large hill you hike up for a cell signal. And remember…If you can't see it… It can't hurt you. I love you-"
Tabitha stumbled forward before catching herself. The void in front of her arms was only filled by cool air. She looked up and noticed a faint glimmer of light pushing through the ceiling. She sat down, relaxing against the limestone wall of the cave, waiting for the trail of light to form.
***
After a few hours, the light shining through the cracks of the cave ceiling was bright enough to lead Tabitha to the other side. She stepped onto the creek bed, thankful for the sun hanging lower in the sky. Scanning the sky, Tabitha saw only a few clouds. The foothills of Appalachia backdropped the forest as she scanned for the hill. Her eyes found the trail leading up the steady slope of an impressive hill. The top of the hill was bare. Part of the hill must have sheared off in a landslide, leaving the top void of trees and a jagged cliff face. Tabitha started her hike up the back of the hill. She was careful to stay under the heavy canopy of the old trees, hopefully avoiding the creature's eyes.
She did her best to quiet her mind while hiking up the trail. Come on, almost to the top, then I can call 911, she replayed repeatedly in her mind. Her adrenaline made up for the lack of food since morning. She drank some water from a clean spot in the creek. She was placing her bet on rescue rather than worrying about the water.
Leaning against one of the trees, Tabitha took out her cell and measured the signal.
"Damn it, nothing!" She swore under her breath. She listened nervously and cautiously peered her head out from the tree line. Standing at the tree line, the cell phone still had a low signal. She pushed her anxiety down with a swallow and slowly stepped forward onto the bare rock. Tabitha was now out in the open. She walked with the cell phone pointed upwards, measuring the signal. Within three feet of the cliff face, her signal bar punched up to full. Tabitha began to punch in the numbers just as a pair of large yellow eyes appeared. She felt her legs become weak, and her vision blurred as the creature snared her in its gaze.
Tabitha ducked, missing the giant owl's claws as it swooped for her. She squinted her eyes shut, momentarily breaking the hold of the infernal beast as it crashed to the ground, tumbling down the path of old trees. On her hands and knees, she tucked the dialed phone back into her pocket. She heard the creature's loud bellowing, followed by the snapping of bone and flesh ripping. It was changing its shape to finish her off.
Tabitha tried to get up, but the flash of its eyes did something to her. Her legs were numb, her stomach was in knots, and she could barely put a few thoughts together.
"If you can't see it, it can't hurt you." Tabitha heard clearly in her left ear. She quickly pushed herself into a sitting position and fumbled for the key chain in her right pocket. Pulling the long chain of keys, luck charms, and keepsakes, her father's Swiss army knife dangled at the end. She slowly opened the half-inch blade. Her body wholeheartedly rejected her plan and tried to fight her. Every internal warning system sounded as her body fought against her as she brought the blade against the corner of her left eye.
She didn't know if she could do it until the creature bellowed in her direction. With one quick motion, the half-inch blade sliced across her left eye. The world dimmed and then went black on her left side. Behind her, the beast's thundering gallop was getting closer. Tabitha plunged herself into total darkness with the last bit of her strength. Her hand gripped tightly around the bloody knife as she folded forward onto the ground. She could feel herself weeping blood. She squinted, doing her best to stem the tide of blood loss.
A large feathered paw drove into Tabitha's right side, flipping her onto her back. She lay still as the hulking creature stood over her. It remained motionless, and Tabitha was confused about why it didn't move or bite her. Then she started to giggle, just a little at first. Then, laughing madly into the creature's face as it growled back at her. She could not see it; she couldn't see anything. Her mind couldn't be eaten!
The creature roared into Tabitha's face while plunging one of its sharp claws into her shoulder. Tabitha screamed in pain, slashing the knife downward. The blade hit something soft, and she ripped the blade down, rending whatever she had hit on the abomination. A bright yellow, foul-smelling liquid gushed in a torrent over Tabitha's face. She turned to cough, having swallowed a portion of it. The creature reared back, squealing in pain. Its hind leg came down hard on Tabitha's leg, snapping her tibia. She jerked her leg up, causing the creature to tumble forward and fall over the edge of the cliff side.
Tabitha heard the creature crash below at the base of the hill. A large dead tree speared the creature through its chest. Tabitha could hear the labored whines of the creature as its cries became weak and slowed. A wave of sickness hit her as she rolled over and vomited. The foul smell drenched her. She did her best to focus, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the phone. By memory, she typed in the unlock pin. She held her breath and placed her thumb where the call button should be.
She could hear the call being made then, "911. What is your emergency?"
"Please help me! A bear has attacked me, and I can't see. I think I am on a hill."
"Ok, ma'am, stay with me! Do you know where you are located?"
"No, I'm lost. Please send help."
"It's okay. Stay with me on the phone, and I'll use the cell signal to try to find you."
"I'm on top of one of the hills. I think I am lying on a bare roc-" Tabitha slipped unconscious with the cell still tightly in her hand. Her body began to tremble and convulse.
"Ma'am! Ma'am! Stay with me. I have help on the way."
Chapter 3
A young man in military fatigues frantically compiles images and reconnaissance data from his drone feed. Confirming his hunch, he commands the winged surveillance drone to make a hard left and send a live video feed. His eyes widened as he saw a large owl-shaped shadow crash onto the top of a hill. He watches in awe as the sleek black owl twists and shifts into something much larger, like a grizzly. As the drone turns, he sees a woman at the cliff's edge trying to steady yourself on her hands and knees.
He bolts up from the command module, jotting down the drone's coordinates on one of the printouts. The drab government-issued office motif for the watch station blurs in the corner of his eye as he rushes down the hallway to the watch commander's office.
"Sir, recon has eyes on AMOS! And it's feeding!" the man said, swinging the heavy wooden door open. He took the hastily compiled file and pushed it forward to the commanding officer.
An older, tanned man quickly stands, reaching for the files. His brow furls, seeing his charge is awake. "Keep eyes on it! Go Adams!" The young man nods, turning on his heel and bolting for the drone command module. As his office door slams shut from the subordinate officer, he grabs his headset and frantically dials the closest military outpost to the coordinates.
"Hello, Sergeant Klein; this is Agent Smith of Black Watch outpost 7948! Shadow is active, code Alpha, Mike, Oscar, Sierra. The coordinates and data package have been sent. A civilian is on the ground; deploy strike-and-rescue ASAP.
"We'll be up in five, Agent Smith! The line cuts as Agent Smith closes out the call on his headset and rushes to the door. The normally quiet watch station buzzes alive, with personnel flooding the central command station. The background echoes resource allocation calls, frantic typing, and the hum of cold computers warming up.
"Adams, get our eyes back on Amos!"
"Coming back around in 30 seconds." Thirty sets of eyes stare at the three giant screens, anxiously waiting for the drone feed to clear the bank of trees. The camera clears the tre top to see the giant feathered grizzly rear back slinging its massive head away from its prey. Its large yellow right eye spews bright yellow liquid all over the red-haired woman and the cliff face. The giant feathered grizzly missteps, crushing the woman's leg and causing the creature to tumble over the cliff face.
"Fuck!" Agent Smith yells in horror as he watches AMOS fall four stories, impaling a sharp, 3-meter-tall log lodged in the boulders. The command center freezes wide-eyed at the flailing dying creature on screen. Agent Smith pulls his cell out quickly and dials.
"Klein, Scrub the current request! AMOS is down! Switch to rescue and harvest now!
"What, someone took out AMOS?"
"YES! It's at the bottom of the cliff, bleeding out essence! The woman is covered in it as well. Clean as much of it off her as possible before you take her to the ER.
"Understood!"
Agent Smith, in a rage, slings his phone straight forward, connecting with Private Adams's skull. Adams flinches at the sudden impact of the hard plastic and covers his head. Agent Smith grabs the table in front of him and flips it over, sending the computer equipment crashing to the government-issued tiled floor.
"A two-year cycle gone! All that essence is gone! Now I have to wait another 24 months for AMOS to resurrect!" Agent Smith screams, causing the rest of the staff to recoil away in fear.
"Jones!" Agent Smith says sternly, turning to a petite woman on his left. She stares at him, pleading.
"Yes Sir?'
"Get Officer Nichols on my office line. That fuck up has some explaining. He should have told us AMOS was awake."
"Right away!" Jones quickly sits back down and begins dialing Nichols, thankful she doesn't have to deal with Agent Smith further. The command center quickly shifts gears as Agent Smith returns to his office.
***
Two Weeks later…
"Tabitha… Tabitha… This is Doctor Wilhelm. Wake up." The kind older gentleman said as they gently nudged Tabitha in her hospital bed.
"Where am I?" Tabitha asked, waking from what felt like years of sleep. She sat up, the world still pitch black, but an odd sense of the world around her seemed to hum just behind her eyes.
"You're in the hospital, dear; you scared us. Do you remember anything?" He said as he sat down on the side of her bed.
Tabitha thought for a moment the last parts after she slashed her eyes were a blur. She remembers people yelling and the sound of two or three helicopters over her. " No, it's really all just a blur."
"Well, it's probably for the best. You had some very serious injuries. The first night, we honestly didn't think you would make it. Then…" The doctor trailed off with a concerned expression, not knowing how to explain things further.
Tabitha felt his pulse quicken somehow. She didn't understand it but fully felt or sensed the doctor beside her. She sensed the two other nurses standing at the end of the bed. Her body didn't hurt. She felt great. She felt hungry.
"Doctor, you said had. What happened to my injuries?" She said calmly, trying not to startle the old doctor further.
"Well, Tabitha, it's the closest thing to a miracle I've ever seen. You had violent seizures from the minute you hit the entrance of the ER. We couldn't even set your leg. The medications we gave you had a minimal effect, and you thrashed so much that we had to restrain you. Then, the early morning check-in found you in a deep sleep. All but your eyes were completely healed. So we switched gears to support care and treated your eyes the best we could." He said, watching her reaction.
Tabitha leaned back in her bed, taking in the wild account. "Do you know how I healed so quickly?"
"What happened to you is beyond all scientific reason. A miracle is the only way the staff and I can explain it. I know you have been through a lot, but I want to check your eyes."
"Thank you for all your help, Doctor Wilhelm." She said, sitting up in bed.
"You are most welcome, dear. Now I am going to unwrap your eye-dressing. Hold still, please." he said as he reached up and pulled on the bandage tape. Tabitha felt a quick tug and felt the bandages loosen from around her head. The doctor slowly unwrapped the bandages. The doctor's brow wrinkled as he examined the two large black scabs covering Tabitha's eyes.
"Tell me if this hurts at all, ok?"
"Yes, doctor." She relaxes as the doctor's gloved fingers pass over the scab. He pushes and gently tugs at the side of one, and it starts to lift. He pulls on the scab more, and Tabitha begins to sense the light as it hits her eyelid.
"Oh, I can sense the light, Doctor Wilhelm!" She said, smiling.
"Wonderful! Nurse Allen, please hand me some saline solution. I think a little water will loosen these right up. Hold still; this may feel cold," he said as he reached for the solution. She felt the cool liquid flush over the left eye, then the right. The scabs fell away with a gentle tug from the doctor. She could see the light shine through her eyelids. She grinned widely, happy to have some form of sight left.
"Please open your eyes for me," he said as he sat back on the bed. Tabitha slowly opened her eyes. The flood of light was almost too much, causing her to squint. After a few moments, she adjusted to the fluorescent lights. Three figures began to take shape in front of her. First, the distinguished older features of Doctor Wilhelm came into view quickly, followed by the brunette and blonde younger nurses standing at the end of the bed. Suddenly, her vision snapped into place, crisp and clear.
"I can see perfectly! This is amazing! Thank you, Doctor Wilhem!" she said, turning to look directly into his eyes, but he stared back at her unmovingly.
"Doctor Wilhelm?" she said as her expression became more worried. Doctor Wilhelm just sat staring, intensely focused on her eyes. His expression was overbearingly calm. She glanced at the nurses, rigidly staring back at her with trapped, calm expressions. Doctor Wilhelm began to twitch slightly. It traveled from the base of his spine out to his limbs, finally convulsing.
"Doctor Wilhelm, are you okay?" Tabitha yelled as the doctor began to have a seizure and fell on top of her bed.
"Help Him!" She screamed at the two nurses only to see both of them crumble to the tiled floor. One of them bashed her head off the bed frame. Tabitha recoils back from Doctor Wilhelm in terror as he starts foaming at the mouth. She climbs over the bed rail and hits the tiled concrete floor with a thud. Her adrenaline surges as she bolts for the door, looking for help.
At the entrance of her hospital room, she sees another nurse leaving the adjacent room. "Please, my doctor and staff need help!" As the male nurse turns to see Tabitha, he suddenly goes stiff before collapsing into a violent seizure, spilling his cart over with him.
"What's happening!" Tabitha screams, thinking something is in the air, or everyone has come down with something. A pair of security guards round the corner, hearing the screams and commotion.
"Ma'am, are yo-" The guard freezes mid-stride as he makes eye contact with Tabitha. Both men start to convulse and topple over, thrashing violently on the hard tile.
"No, no, no, no!" Tabitha yells as she darts into the women's bathroom, a few doors up the hall. She runs in, terrified of the situation. She approaches one of the sinks, bracing herself against the cool porcelain. Her stomach turns, and she dry heaves in the sink. She steadies herself while turning on the cold water. Leaning in, she takes a drink. As she looks up, a glint of two yellow eyes catches her. Tabitha stumbles backward on reflex. Then, she sees her reflection in the mirror. Two completely bright yellow eyes stare back at Tabitha. She screams at herself in the mirror, not feeling hungry anymore.
The end.
I will

It was fall, and the weather was perfect for hiking. At least, Mark thought so. Hannah, his girlfriend of three years, not so much. The golden leaves falling through the warm afternoon sun were beautiful, but she hated every other aspect that came with traipsing through the forest. Especially bugs.
“How much further, Mark?”
“Not much.” Mark grinned, holding up a branch for Hannah to pass under. “It'll be worth it, I promise.”
Even Hannah's clear annoyance couldn't wipe the endearing smile from Mark's face. She had to smirk.
“Come on. We're almost there,” Mark said, plucking a leaf from her hair as he jogged past.
Shadows soon covered the forest floor as the sounds of dusk rose. Only a glimmer of soft orange remained to show the way. Mark was almost giddy as they neared a clearing. The trees thinned, and Hannah gasped.
“Yeah.” Mark bowed and waved a hand, “M’lady, if you would accompany me.”
A small creek babbled on the far side of the clearing. The sun—nearly set now—glimmered on the surface like golden specs. Their path crossed directly over, Mark helping Hannah splash over the wet rocks. Obscured at first by trees, a small, rocky hill appeared.
Several massive pine trees rose above a collapsed campfire. Fallen logs lined the site, the remaining light flashing like fireflies through its limbs. Mark wrapped an arm around Hannah and pulled her close.
Mark dropped his pack next to the old fire pit and knelt down to set up camp. Hannah, still marveling at the serene beauty of the spot, reluctantly took a seat on one of the fallen logs. The chilly evening air was beginning to set in, causing her to pull her jacket tighter around her body.
“This place is amazing,” she admitted, unable to suppress a smile as she watched Mark work.
“See? Told you it’d be worth it,” Mark replied, flashing her a triumphant grin.
As he started building a fire, Hannah shifted uncomfortably. She could feel the creeping sensation of insects scurrying across her skin, and she slapped at her arms, shuddering.
“Do you think there are... you know, like, dangerous bugs out here?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Nah, nothing more dangerous than a mosquito bite,” Mark said, though his eyes darted towards the surrounding forest for just a moment.
The fire crackled to life, casting flickering shadows that danced around them. They spent the evening roasting marshmallows and sharing stories, the warmth of the fire keeping the growing cold at bay. As the stars dotted the night sky, Mark reached into his pack and pulled out a small box.
“Hannah,” he began, his voice trembling slightly. “I know you hate bugs and hiking, but you’ve always been willing to put up with it for me. I love you for that and so much more. Will you marry me?”
Tears welled up in Hannah’s eyes as she looked at the ring, the firelight reflecting off the diamond. “Yes, Mark! Of course, I will!”
They embraced, and as the night grew colder, they found warmth in each other’s arms, the forest around them forgotten in their shared joy.
In the dead of night, Hannah woke with a start, a sharp pain radiating from her ankle. She winced, trying not to wake Mark as she fumbled for a flashlight. She directed the beam to her foot and saw a small, but deep, puncture wound, with a large centipede quickly scurrying away into the darkness.
“Mark... wake up,” she whispered, shaking his shoulder. “Something bit me.”
Groggy and disoriented, Mark rubbed his eyes and looked at the wound. “It’s probably just a spider bite. We’ll get it checked out in the morning.”
Hannah tried to relax, but the pain was growing, spreading up her leg in relentless waves. As dawn broke, they packed up hastily, Mark practically carrying her back to the car.
By the time they reached the nearest hospital, Hannah’s condition had worsened dramatically. Her skin was pale and clammy, and she was barely conscious. Doctors rushed her into the emergency room, leaving Mark in the waiting area, his mind racing with worry.
Hours passed with no word. Mark paced the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallway, his heart pounding in his chest. Finally, a doctor emerged, her face grave.
“She’s in critical condition. There’s some kind of parasite we’ve never seen before. We’re doing everything we can.”
Mark’s blood ran cold. “A parasite? What do you mean?”
The doctor hesitated. “It’s... growing inside her, very rapidly. We need to operate immediately.”
The next hours were a blur of anxiety and dread. Mark’s hands shook as he waited, the hospital’s emergency broadcast system flickering on screens around him, warning of a potential outbreak.
Then, a blood-curdling scream echoed through the corridors. Nurses and doctors sprinted past him, shouting orders. Mark followed, his legs feeling like lead. He burst into Hannah’s room just in time to see her body convulse violently on the operating table.
In a grotesque explosion of blood and tissue, a massive centipede tore free from her abdomen, its segmented body thrashing wildly. Mark could only watch in horror as thousands of tiny, grotesque centipede-human hybrids poured from the remains of Hannah’s body, swarming over the medical staff, their screams mingling with the sound of scuttling legs.
Mark stumbled back, his mind reeling. The creatures spread with terrifying speed, their numbers multiplying as they infected every living being in their path. Panic surged through the hospital, and Mark found himself alone in the room where Hannah had died, the walls and floor slick with her blood.
The emergency broadcast on the TV announced the rapid spread of the infestation, cities falling one by one. Mark could barely process the words as he stared at the carnage around him.
Then, the TV flickered, and the emergency broadcast cut to a live feed. A reporter, standing amidst chaos, was suddenly grabbed by a monstrous centipede. As the creature ripped the reporter apart on live television, it turned to the camera. A strip of Hannah’s face still clung to its mandibles, and in a perfect mimicry of her voice, it spoke.
“I did it all for you, my love.”

[Run Zero chapter: https://redd.it/1csb71x not every run will have a chapter; it won't be long before there are multiple runs per chapter.]
Portal load: Agility 1, Bait 3, Trumps 1, Pheromones 1, Packrat 1, Motivation 1, Power 2, Toughness 2, Looting 5, Discipline Challenge, 54 of 54 He allocated, 7.8% AP at start.
[This is probably the lowest helium load I've ever done, and sorta keeping my own advice on a recent Reddit post, Bait and Looting are up. Especially Looting, but it's not like I don't always do something like this.]
The human emerges from the glowing green mist and hits the ground. Groans. Pushes against that ground, trying to get back up. I feel really heavy. I'm not that fat, am I? He's got a dark blue button-down shirt on. A uniform? A shoulder patch. Rolls over- Ah, what's that? His shoulder pressed into something hard and metallic, He reaches over and his hand naturally seems to find a folding handle. He pulls it out from under himself and gets it up on his chest, sort of in a semi-comfortable position to hold it up and look at the screen while lying on his back. Some fiddling around the edges gets the power button pressed and the screen lights up with:
"Manual portal activation 1 successful: Void enabled. / 54 He loaded / Discipline challenge active / Total portal activation 955"
"Kakka," its one of his trimps.
'My' trimps? The human sets aside the portal pad and gets up.
Are you the guy? They all seem to be looking at him, as though they have a frickin' huge problem to solve and they need his help to solve it.
32s: First trap.
Do you bite? It doesn't matter much to us. The trimps look hopefully up at him through the trap's grating, We're so friggin' screwed.
I didn't think four of you could fit in there! He opens it and they all start following him around like imprinted hatchling birds. It seems his tactic of making a catch-alive trap confirmed to them that he was 'the guy' to help solve whatever problem...
26m42s: Z2c15, 58 pop, 7.7s RC with Z1/2; 29m44s: Fresh turkimp c25.
"Hey, buddy," he says to his first scientist, "can you speak yet?"
"Shijou?" it says, then it starts writing, "Hi Tightniks."
"Who do you mean 'Tightniks'?" he asks, "I mean, it's not like I remember my own name, but what makes you think it's Tightniks?"
"Tai," it points right at him with one paw.
"Just pointing at me isn't going to answer that," he chuckles.
The trimp's hands are quite prehensile, but it's hard to tell without it holding something, they don't seem able to make their fingers visually distinguishable. [Puchim@s all the puchidoru, although some have big round hands and some have small pointy hands; Takanya is the latter. Probably Final Fantasy Red XIII as well, but I'm not familiar enough with him to be satisfied.] This one starts climbing up his leg.
"Wait, wait," he stops it. It's a challenge to stoop in this gravity, but not as much of one as carrying a trimp. He gets down on his knees and back on his haunches and-
"Tai," it points again to a spot on his chest just left of his heart, then climbs on his lap and grabs his uniform at that spot, "Tai!"
He looks down and sees "Tightniks" embroidered into the fabric above his pocket. "Ah," he sighs, "Well, if that's my name, that's my name."
"Shijou," it gives him a friendly whack on the shoulder.
2h38m55s: Mskel in Z11c3.
"Hey guys?" Tightniks points at his bone box, waving his finger, "Does anyone remember where these came from?"
"Nope," the yellow one says.
"Yeah, there are 12 more in here than we got kills to account for," Tightniks says.
"I've been getting a sense of deja vu about just about everything," the red one points at the metal box on the strap over his shoulder, "That's a big exception. Any clues there?"
"It says it's for something called a DT Experimental Industries Time Portal," the human shrugs, "I have no idea what it's talking about, honest."
3h25m46s: Block PB, 0.3% AP sub-4h, 540 pop, 8.3s RC, no turkimp
That thing is beeping? He takes a look at his TPCS pad and he's got a message saying that he finished the Block in under 4 hours and there's a little attack bonus- Under 4 hours? It's been over 4 days!! Checking the time on the device reveals that the portal times in terms of a "map frame" out there in space, and the passage of time has been vastly dilated on this planet.
4h15m56s: Zone 15, 954 pop, 11.9s RC with Z14/60, no turkimp.
"Tightniks," the yellow one comes back from the second full bin to the filling third bin, watching the human fold up another of his very first inventions, the very first thing he built after jumping through the mysterious green phenomenon exiting the crashed ship, "Why in blazes are you building so many traps?"
The human had finished another and tossed it into the bin, then picked up the now ever-present portal control pad, gets it out of auto-sleep and called up the "Achievement Points" page. "I have this weird hunch," he says.
"Deja vu? That familiar feeling we always have?" the yellow one inquires politely, slightly tilting its head.
"May I?" Tightniks turns up his hand and waves it up and down in a lifting gesticulation, then points at the trap pile.
"Sure," the yellow one understands, "if you'll put me back down after."
The human sets the pad down, stoops at the knees and gets his arms under the yellow trimp scientist's front limbs and lifts it up onto that stack of traps with a grunt; it is an impressive demonstration of his improving strength against the planet's high gravity. Then he picks up the pad again and points at one of the blank purple squares near the bottom.
"You don't know what that is," the yellow one says, "Are we going after that first one that is readable?"
"Yes," the human nods, "it's for finishing something called a Dimension of Anger, whatever that is, before getting something called Bounty."
"Whatever that is," the trimp chuckles.
"No, I know what it is," the human says, "I remember it being access to a resource-rich area on the other side of a green Wall we'll find with our next map route. It doubles our resource production."
"That would be handy," the yellow one says.
"Hmm," he nods, "But all the traps are for this one," pointing at the third square in the top row of the array the pad labels "Feats", the second of three that are purple.
"Oh," a stylus materializes in the yellow one's paw, "Well, all it says is 2.5%. It doesn't say how to get it. Something to do with traps?"
"Something to do with traps," the human chuckles, "that's only convenient to do now."
4h29m46s...
Other trimps can understand the grey one better than the human, "Shijou shijou shijou?" is what a human ear would hear, but it's really asking the yellow one, "You mean he knew it was going to be here?"
"Yeah," the yellow one nods.
"Well, it's gotta be that pad none of us finds familiar," the grey one insists.
"I don't think so," the yellow one argues, "He showed the reason for all these traps to me on the pad, and the information is not yet available there."
"Well, it can't be just a coincidence," the grey one grumbles.
6h23m16s: Our first void map dropped.
"What is that?" The red one asks the yellow one. It grabs a stick and lifts the strange square object up by an edge from as far away as he can.
"I have no idea," The yellow one says.
"It seems to have some sort of cooling effect," the red one says, looking underneath it, having tilted it up with the stick, "Like it's not just cold, but actually cooling down, as though it were the opposite of on fire."
"Shijou," the grey one says, holding a note.
"It's a void map. Grab it with a blanket and put it on the cart please. - Tightniks"
"Shijou shijou," the grey one clarifies, "The new pad said 'void enabled'. Guessing it's that."
10h06m21s: Zone 21, 1975 pop, 19.6s RC with Z20/232, no turkimp.
"Ooooookay," Tightniks growls, "There is something off about this thing."
"Shijou?" the grey one looks at the yellow one with concern about their human starship pilot friend.
The human stoops, picks up the little green gem on the ridge between Zone 20 and 21, looks at it, huffs, and asks, "Any idea where this comes from?"
"Err..." the red one seems hesitant to say, "I think you made it."
"Really?" the human huffs, "How could that be?" Then he tosses it at Red, "See if anything reacts to it. It might be radioactive, so we should take turns to minimize exposure."
"Really?" Red's holding it now, "What makes you say that?"
"Because I'm pissed off for no reason I can figure out," the human says, "I think it's coming from-" he gasps, "Waitamint!" He starts searching for the portal pad.
"Frags," the red one says quickly, "I think it's arranging a route. You're good with maps," it tosses the gem to the grey scientist.
The human has his portal pad up and reads aloud, "You have the Discipline challenge active. Tweak the portal to- yada yada yada. Tiss tiss t- completing The Dimension Of Anger will cause Trimp damage to return to normal." He snaps his fingers, "That's gotta be it."
"Shijou," the grey one says hopefully, and has a map drawn within a few minutes.
12h30m06s: Portal, 45 He, 3.600 He/hr, 2098 pop, 18.3s RC, 1% AP for Portal-before-Bounty.
The last head of the map's boss monster goes limp as one of the fighting trimps' dagger points goes into it, and the huge thing settles on its tail, resting on the package that seems to be the prize of this map. And there's a popping sound, and then something mechanical.
Is that a scroll compressor? Tightniks looks at the package. The deflating monster's lifting envelope material drapes over everything underneath it. "Red, Shijou!" he snaps and points, "roll up that side of it. Keep this part from sucking down on the extractor nozzle!"
All fifty of the scientists jump in, literally, pushing the gas in the bag towards the compressor. Tightniks as well, rolling up the front.
Until he kicks, and nearly trips over, a smaller package that might be the explanation for the reason why the center of the monster's defense seemed to be a little away from the big package he could see. It's in the right place, he realizes. He gets it uncovered and reads stenciled-and-sprayed block letters on it:
"DT TIME PORTAL / THIS SIDE DOWN"
Perhaps the Dimension of Anger is so named because of the rage suddenly rising up in Tightniks' throat. It isn't so much as the free-floating aggression suddenly has an answer, there is definitely a fresh batch of rage and anger as he grips the nearest Dagger V, Mark 2 with both hands- ...I must have gotten used to destroying it at some point. He lets go of his weapon with his right hand first and dangles his left arm while holdi-
Refocusing on surviving the next few seconds, the pilot turns on the radar for the final approach and takes a last look around, then straight ahead at his forward camera and primary flight display...
He crouches, sets the dagger down gently, then starts clearing the debris from the box's grab iron. He tries to lift it- Damn, this is heavy!
Surprised at this turn of events, his two oldest scientists, Grey and Yellow, rush to either side of him and help out. They get it flipped over and read the other side of the device, Tightniks chuckles a bit at its predictability:
"DT TIME PORTAL / THIS SIDE UP" There's a square cutout in the middle of one side of it, with a sliding cover at the bottom of it.
"Thanks," he pats his scientists, "but back off, please." He gets the cover unlatched, and slides it open to see, first a big rainbow-colored wide data cable and card edge connector, then several fluid ports. "There's something missing," he says aloud as he gets the cover completely off and onto the grass, "this connects to some-" he's got the wide flat cable up in his hand, realizing what it plugs into. He looks at his scientists, lips trembling, "G-g-g-get the pad."
The grey one already has the survival data pad and offers it to him.
"No, the other pad," Tightniks clarifies, "The big one. The big one," he picks up wide flat rainbow cable and its edge socket in one hand, "It goes here," he points at it with the other. "It must have come with me end of the last cycle."
Both the yellow one and the red one bring it, one on each side.
"Thank you," the human takes it, gets its hinge lugs on the trunnions at the top of each corner of the cavity, then gets the cable connector on the card edge in the pad's base recess, "See, that's where it came from." It comes on:
"12h30m05s: You have completed the Discipline challenge, unlocking a new memory-enable coolant loop and restoring your trimps to normal combat discipline."
"Do you have any idea what that's about?" the yellow one points at the edge of the left side.
"That's-" Tightniks examines it, then suddenly realizes, "It's gotta be for the void map."
He's got a port cover open, and the bottom of it says, "NULLIFIUM/VOID HEIRLOOM INTERFACE"
"Shijou?" the grey one brings the blanket-wrapped void map.
The human clears an edge of the map; doesn't seem to matter which one, and then gets it into the slot. It disappears and the blanket settles down while the environment goes deep blue and suddenly goes super cold. "Hoe Lee!" he shivers, wrapping the blanket around himself, "I hope this isn't too much of a Napolean-Hitler Maneuver!" He glances around, but all the trimps don't seem to discomforted by the sudden cold.
12h35m24s: Void 1, 55 He, 4.369 He/hr, 2098 pop, 18.3s RC, first void AP 1% and 0.3% AP for 100 He simultaneously, we got a rare shield, but it's lame with attack, storage, and empty.
As the environment around them return to normal, the trimps cheer over the deflated corpse of the- ...whatever, who give a hoot? Tightniks finds a flurry of messages on the portal screen, two regard APs, one is about having recovered 10 He units, and the big one was about a "shield". Through the touchscreen, he enables it, and gets the status effects that it's talking about.
"Where to now, boss?" the yellow one asks, Tightniks can feel the draft off the cold trimps. They seem to be extraordinarily robust ectotherms, unlike him.
"Let's go back to that friggin' Wall, where it's warmer," he shivers, "We got that AP and could use the resources." As he leads them to the L15 route, he thinks, Maybe I did that void too early. It takes on the level of our most recently entered Zone, and the resources probably go up accordingly. [I did for character reasons after seriously considering running it at Z25 or 30.]
12h49m37s: Nursery unlocked.
"Four hundred thousand gems!" the human squeaks, "Are you kidding me?"
Grey and Yellow glance at each other, the former says "Shijou?" and starts doodling a real answer.
"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but young trimps have special diets for healthy bones," the yellow one explains.
"You eat gems?" the human gasps.
"Shijou," Grey says with a shit eating grin just above a little sign that says, "Babies eat aluminate, and gems are the best!"
"Do they like the taste?" Tighniks tosses a gem from the helium compressor in the direction of the nearest house.
"Uh-Uuuuh!" after it bounces off a paving stone, a yellow juvenile with red head fur jumps into the air to catch it in its mouth. [Puchim@s Yayo. Liek seriously, she jumps after pennies.]
13h32m59s: Zone 25, 84 He, 6.199 He/hr, 2217 pop, 52.6s RC with Z24/568, no turkimp.
It has an unusually light colored body, dark head fur that lies flat, and for trimp tails, wide and not all that prehensile, reminds Tightniks of a- ...he remembers what the animal looks like, but not that his home planet is called Earth nor that the animal is called a tanuki raccoon. Just the tail, the rest of the trimp looks like a trimp for the most part. Oh yeah, the mining foreman. [Puchim@s Yukipo] He turns to Red and asks, "What's wrong with it?"
"It's in a bad mood," the red one answers.
"I can tell," Tightniks glares angrily at the red one for a moment, cools off, takes a breath, and asks kindly, "Why is it in a bad mood?"
"We've never been out this far," the yellow one offers, "...well, with the portal captured at least. Now, it was in a good mood before it got near the cart after we started this zone. Something new on the cart?"
Tightniks approaches the mopey mining foreman and asks it, "What's the matter, little fella?"
It sighs, then starts struggling to climb [see 1x6] onto the compressor cart. Tightniks helps it up with a lift, then it goes to the portal pad and turns it on, opens up the coolant page, the challenges tab there, and sort of sighs and looks questioningly at him.
"Metal challenge:" the pad reads, "Tweak the portal to bring you to an alternate reality, where the concept of Miners does not exist..."
"Oh," Tightniks realizes, then huffs, "That explains the bad mood." He sits down with the mining foreman trimp and brushes its tail, "Don't worry, my friend. You'll be back after one cycle, and I'm sure I'll miss you and your miners. These guys," he nods at the scientists, "we're scared they wouldn't be back when I first used it on purpose, but they came back. If there's a 'Science challenge' later on, I'll have you and not them-"
The scientists flinch.
"It'll be okay," he assures the mining foreman he hasn't yet realized has fallen comfortably asleep in his lap, "It'll be okay, buddy."
16h11m02s: Gymnastic Z25 taken and gyms rapidly increasing now.
The 710 fighting trimps are majestic with their new gymnastic skill and nearly impossible to hit. Only occasionally did the gorillimp do damage. They took it down easily.
Then the dragimp they faced next blew them away with a fireball that made Tightniks flinch. It took him a second to get the dragimp back in his bee nickels. The next group was all ready to relieve their fallen comrades before they went down, even without the welcoming traps for the wild volunteers (of which Tightniks has just started into the 41st bin of ten thousand.) The dragimp can do nothing to them; anything that hits gets deflected by their V-8 shields; they never got sufficiently blindsided.
[Funny: V-8 is a veggie drink similar to clamato juice I can't find anymore, but it's really five-eight, which just happens to be the squadron number of the cast in Space: Above and Beyond. Herp-a-derp!]
19h11m12s: Spammed some random biome maps...
"Tai?" the grey one looks up at the human holding a little sign, "Last couple zones, you've been mapping a lot of random biome routes we never used. Is there any point to that?"
"Stats," the human says, fitting another one together, "Oh, and this," he tosses the trimp the completed forest route map."
As it registers in the portal system, the pad starts beeping and flashing its screen.
"What?" Tightniks sneers incredulously, "There's an AP for that?" He checks and sure enough, there's a 5% Achievement Point for making a 'perfect' map, by a full notch the biggest AP so far.
The yellow one was relaxing on the corner of the latest filled up trap bin, the 49th, notices, and leans back, "Yarey yarey..." shaking its head.
19h13m28s: Uberhouse taken.
"Shijou," the grey one stands at Tightniks feet holding a small book.
Tightniks takes a brief break from his trapmaking and stoops for his oldest scientist.
"Shijou," the grey one bobs the small book in its hands to offer it to Tightniks.
"Flush toilets and septic systems?" Tightniks reads, "You do this yourself?"
"Oh, don't you wish," the red one snickers, "No, it was in that perfect route you mapped up."
20h39m26s: Zone 30, 161 He, 7.794 He/hr, 4656 pop, 20N, 74.5s RC with Z29/1735, no turkimp, 2.5% AP for sub-60 He Z30 start...
"Oh?" Tightniks has an Ax V-3 over one shoulder and screws the helium hose connector to the portal system with one hand. He grunts, sounds kinda disappointed, sets the ax down and continues working on his massive pile of traps; he's almost finished the 55th of, he just learned, 100 huge bins.
The mining foreman had struggled up onto the cart to see, and just looks baffled. It usually looks a bit lost just as part of its demeanor, but this time it looks really quite confused, and makes rather bemused sounds too.
"Oh, what is this?" Red jumps up on the cart, sounding like it's gotta be silly.
The mining foreman climbs back down and spots a purple ore vein, makes a happy sound and pulls its shovel out of its back pocket to start digging into it.
[OC: This is not even close to an exaggeration vs. OG Puchim@s Yukipo who, in 1x2, just pulls out her shovel from nowhere and digs a hole through Project 765's indoor tile-and-concrete office floor to have a nap in the cold open of a 137 second long cartoon episode. Never run out of mushroom boxes! Also, 2nd season Golden Week gold medallion, she and Yayo dig into a volcanic island and hit an oil gusher ...you don't need to know much geology to realize...]
"Really?" Red groans, "Sheesh."
What's on the pad? "Hoarder: Have over 1 million traps at once, 2.5% damage."
20h48m06s: Gateways.
"Hmm," Tightniks pauses from his trap building and gazes over where they came from.
"Thinking of something?" the yellow one asks from the stack he's building under his feet as he puts the most recent trap on the pile.
"Yunno, we have a lot of territory back there that should be pretty pleasant to live in," Tightniks says, "You'd think we should be able to just map an enemy-free route that trimps can just sit down and live peacefully in. I'd love to be able to do that."
"Shijou," the grey one is at his feet with a massive shit-eating grin, not really "hiding" a big piece of documentation behind its back. Obviously it's not so dumb as to realize that it isn't concealed. It then pulls it out and offers it to the human, "Shijou."
"What's this-" the human gasps, "Are you kidding?"
"Shijou."
"Well?" the yellow one prompts, "Let's friggin' try it, shall we?"
21h34m53s...
For some odd reason, that quiet little mining foreman is on the trap pile, fiddling around. Seems to be trying to arm one, has the spring catch on-
"Hey, buddy!" the human notices, "What are you-"
SPROING and it goes flying through the air. Does a few flips and turns, and then sticks the landing, strikes a pose, and makes a happy sound. [op cit. 1x57]
"What the-" Tightniks says, scratching his head, I wonder how much more damage the fighters could avoid if they could do stuff like that.
"Shijou," the grey one is carefully copying out the trimpese from a tattered and dusty scroll.
"What is that?" Tightniks asks.
"Where mining buddy learned that flip," Yellow says from the cart with feet playfully dangling, "another gymnastic book we picked up a few NMEs back. Probably another chapter from the same book, actually. It seems to have been torn apart and scattered."
"Is that right, bud-" the human looks around, can't seem to find the mining foreman, "Buddy, where are you?" It can't move so fast as to get out of sight this quickly!
"Po-wee!" it cheers from the bottom of its latest hole, which is beside a pile of rich bluish-greenish copper ore, onto which another shovelful flies out of the hole onto it.
22h44m17s: Zone 32, 205 He, 9.016 He/hr, 9548 pop, 30N, 37.7s RC with Z31/2712, no tkp.
"You should probably go," Red whispers.
The exhausted human has just sat down for a nap after tossing yet another trap into the huge bin stenciled "61".
"Really, I mean it," the red trimp scientist gently sets a paw on the pilot's shoulder, "Listen to sense please. Charge all this helium and use the portal; it'll make us so much stronger."
"Only 392 thousand to go," Tightniks sighs, "All the ones I've made go to waste if I use it now. I know it's only a two-and-a-halfer, but if I go now, I'll never be in de-" his head slumps into the nodding-off of post-all-nighter fatigue, "moo."
Red and the mining foreman help the snoring human gently down onto his side. The former quietly asks the latter, "Do you think he's doing the right thing?"
The mining foreman makes a particularly delighted squeak, grabs its latest flask of leafy-flowery infusion, which is just now cool enough not to punish such a maneuver with a nasty burn, and upends the whole thing in a couple seconds. It then bounds off joyfully towards the big pit mine over there. It does not often lead the general laborers because of the gymnastic and shield driven block fight, which needs wood, but it happens to be doing so today.
Yellow stands next to the grumbling unhappy green lumber foreman trimp, who is standing on the head of its dual bit ax with its chin on the end of the haft sticking up from the head on the ground. "Cheer up!" the yellow scientist gently prods it in the elbow, "There isn't a Lumber challenge."
1d00h20m05s: Zone 33, 229 He, 9.410 He/hr, 10120 pop, 50N, 40.8s RC with Z32/3390, no turkimp.
"It's a familiar smell," the human says.
"There's no way we've been out this far since whatever it is that shtfed Trimp civilization," Red grumbles. [Word based on acronym SHTF, which stands for "stuff hits the fan" in its G-rated version. Long time ago, similarly derived "nsfw" was a kerbalese cuss word.]
"I think it's from before that," Tightniks clarifies, "from before the time loop stuff."
"I'm worried our fighting group is nearly a third of our population," Yellow sighs.
"Casualties bother you?" Tightniks asks, "I thought we talked about that."
"It's taking forever to breed up new groups, and these things, *snap* ow," Yellow didn't quite touch that one the right way, "you've got 661 thousand of are too small to help. If you don't go now, this will probably be our last Coordination and we won't be able to finish the next zone."
1d06h52m14s: Gymnastic Z35 finally away.
"Did you know it was there?" The red one asks the human as they watch the grey one transcribe another lost chapter of the Gymnastic book.
"No," Tightniks huffs, in a few minutes' break from his trap building, "But I'm not surprised, I hope it gets us Zone 36. In any case, as soon as I finish that millionth trap-"
The mining foreman makes a mournful sound.
"Don't worry, buddy," Tightniks pats it on the head, "I'll brush your tail again last thing before I go." He's working on bin #88.
1d08h00m10s: 12802 pop, 80N, 43.7s RC with Z34/5298, down from 27.4s; '31m00s...
Tightniks, wearing wool-lined leather gloves mixing shimp and bovimp ingredients, plugs the void map that they got from earlier in the zone into the portal, bundled up against the expected cold. He hopes that the fresh Gymnastic Z35 and Coordination Z34 will get them through it.
1d08h33m03s...
"Do you think you can get it back out of there?" Red asks the shivering human as he reaches for the portal.
There are a pair of ejector levers beside the void map slot which clicked when he inserted it, but the void map disappears, so it remained an open question as to whether they could get it back out. Making sure not to have his hands over the void map slot, Tightniks gets a thumb over each one and there's resistance like something is in the empty slot. He grunts and pushes down until they suddenly snap down, the ejected void map rematerializes. "Well, that's a relief," he sets it down and the starts doffing his coats and sweaters to let the warm air of the normal world reach him.
"Try again later?" Yellow asks.
"Yes," the human says.
"What, are you kidding?" Red scoffs, these things level up with the zones!"
"Later on in this zone, obviously," Tightniks grunts with a huff, and then turns to see the grey one holding its little sign with those exact words on it, can't help but smile.
1d09h08m09s: Snimp in Z36c74...
Having just finished yet another trap for bin #95 of the hundred that he needs for the million-traps AP, he tosses it in and looks to the front. There's not much left of that snimp, but it just killed a third fighting group. "The training bonus from running ten laps in an on-level map route doesn't transfer to the void, does it?"
"Shijou," the grey one says with a note of confirmation.
"And I'm getting close to done this pile of traps we need for that 2.5% AP damage bonus."
"Shijou," it says again.
1d09h08m21s: Snimp in Z36c75...
Tightniks sighs, "...and there's another one. So much for that void map with its heinous critically accurate fast voidsnimps and ugly boss fight." And he returns to building traps.
1d10h14m08s: Trying again...
"NULLIFIUM/VOID HEIRLOOM INTERFACE," Tightniks tightens the stuff around himself and then finishes getting the void map inserted with his gloves, and his fingers come together as it puffs out in a brief blue mist in the void environment.
"Timba timba," Tightniks hadn't even noticed that the lumber foreman was up on his head, pats him on the head, wants to get back to work. [No Puchim@s resembles the lumber foreman.]
"Oh, there you are," the human says, "Sorry, I wanted to finish the run with the mining foreman in charge of the resourcing workers. I don't know what's about to happen to it when I hit the Metal challenge."
"Who the devon talked you into into trying this thing again?" Yellow grumbles, looking up at the indigo sky and mysteriously shrunken and dim sun, hands- ...forepaws on its waist, not discomforted by the cold, but bothered by the re-attempt. [This cuss-word after Disturbed song "Inside the Fire".]
"Shijou," the grey one grins above a Rosetta-stone-like sign it's holding with "It was me." in forty-seven languages both human and trimp.
"Zone 37 is hopeless in the time it'll take me to finish building the traps," Tightniks says.
"Won't the cold slow you down?" Red inquires, "It seems to get to you for some reason we don't get."
"Timba timba," the lumber foreman confirms from its perch on Tightiks' jacket hood.
"Yeah," he huffs, tightening it down, "but it slows down the portal clock by the same amount, so who cares?"
1d10h38m48s: Voidsnimp in c12...
Even in the void, Tightniks has gotten used to the sounds of the combat and trimps dying en masse, but when he heard that voidsnimp screech, which is similar to a "drill" robot from an Earth video game he has almost totally forgotten called Descent (Interplay 1995), he almost involuntarily turned to see, Even way back here, they can damage us despite all that gymnastic training? Then it landed the critical hit and wiped them out, as all critical hits do on this void route. He still finished the trap he was working on before going back to the portal, "Forget this, we're just getting the zone blimp." He pops the map from the portal's void slot, and starts getting his void gear off. His uniform long since wore out, so he's wearing something much more cave-manny. [I picked that sound because that sucker was dangerous and terrifying and carried the nearly hitscan Vulcan cannon. There was no Descent II equivalent, but the Thiefbot was pretty annoying.]
1d10h45m30s: 1M traps AP for 2.5%. 1d10h47m36s: Zone 37, 345 He, 9.916 He/hr, 13120 pop, 100N, 33.6s RC with Z34/5298, 2774 pop short, no turkimp.
Tightniks had nearly finished the long procedure for loading and configuring the portal, then sat down with the mining foreman to brush its tail like he promised.
The scientist trimps tried to hit the portal's activation plunger, but it refused to travel the full distance closed for any of them. Quite tired themselves out trying. The only one not exhausted into total silence was the grey one with its exasperated "Shijou..."
The mining foreman refused to go to sleep, and watched intently as Tightniks finally reached over and set it home with one hand. Its last nervous little sigh was the only thing he remembered-
The ship is without power, and Tightniks can't run the radar much without draining the batteries...

AUTHOR'S NOTE
This is going to be a side project that will get slowly updated, if ever. It's a fun idea I have been mulling over for a few months now, but don't see myself fully committing to it in the future. It's not going to be the main story I am working on, nor will it ever be referenced in other chapters unless I explicitly say so in the author's notes.
This is an alternative timeline for The Skalgan, and this will begin in the middle of Chapter 20. As such, the first half of this chapter will be identical to the first half of that chapter.
Enjoy.
Memory transcription subject: Dr. Rebecca Taylor, M.D., Ph.D., Human exchange program participant, U.N. Therapist
Date [Standardized human time]: February 3, 2137
I quickly tightened my grip around Jorlka’s paw to reassure him. His breathing had stopped, and his tail movements became a bit erratic.
“If you are NOT okay with this, then it’s fine. We would never want you to feel pressured into something you are not comfortable with doing. Nobody will be upset with you.”
I do not fucking care how much Havingsway bitches at me. I will protect Jorlka.
“I-I-I… I mean… How would…” His eyes were darting around, examining my face all over, like his was trying to decipher information that wasn’t there.
“Jorlka, breath. Please.” I let the hand on top of his paw go and reached to his back to lightly pat it. His eyes shut tight at this and he did as I asked, letting in a long breath and holding it. For bit longer than felt comfortable. “… Okay, now exhale.”
He released the air with a loud pant.
“Do… Do you want to… Here?” His face was still maintaining that bright orange glow all over, from the tips of his ears to his snout. I would be swooning over this adorable vestige if I didn’t know that the person in front of me was incredibly stressed.
“No, not here. We’ve got a room set aside for you. Private. Nobody will be there with you.”
“N-No… Nobody?” He started to calm down and his expression and look in his eyes switched to one of puzzlement. “Then… How would you…” He paused as he struggled to find the words. “I can’t… Not without help?”
“What do you…” I returned his puzzled look with one in kind, then focused on the paw I was holding.
Claws. He can’t… Male Venlil don’t… OH MY GOD. I am fucking pissed at myself for never even considering that before. He thought that I was going to… OH MY GOD!
I looked back at him, right in the eye. “Th-that’s not a problem! They’ve got special tools and materials in the room so that you can do it without help! And if there’s anything you need, I’m certain the staff would happily help you get it.”
We already know there are enough Venlil who would jump at the chance. Hell, Havingsway is desperate enough that he may both figuratively and literally bend over for this… Fuck, I would even call Freya down if you asked.
“I… I see.” He had finally calmed down enough to start thinking properly again. “And… This is needed to fix my people?”
“It’s not absolutely needed. Our scientists, Human and Venlil, are more than capable of undoing the damage that the federation caused… But your samples would expedite the work by… God, probably years.” I dug my fingers into the wool on his back as I comforted him. My god, his wool was even softer and smoother than Freya’s was, and I love running my fingers through hers.
“I see…” Jorlka repeated himself, and closed his eyes, becoming lost in thought. We sat in silence for several moments, and I continued to gently caress his paw in one hand and embraced his back with the other. He could take all the time he needed; I was no rush.
“… V-very well. I… I’ll do it.” His eyes opened again and looked at mine again.
“Are you certain? It’s perfectly okay if you don’t. I promise yo-“
His ears and tail lashed with irritation. “Please, just stop before I do actually change my mind.” His voice cracked slightly. His performance wasn’t as convincing as he had hoped, but it will have to do.
“… Alright. Come, I’ll take you down.” I helped him to his feet and lowered the hand to the center of his spine. We made our way out of the office and down the hall without any words. His ears were still twitching erratically from time to time, clearly indicating that his thoughts on this were mixed.
There really wasn’t much else I could say or do to alleviate his stress. If he’s found the confidence to go through with this, then we’ll capitalize on it. We got down to the furthest part of the wing, and there stood two individuals in white lab coats. A male human and a female Venlil: Dr. Havingsway and Bilvi.
The two of them introduced themselves and offered to take Jorlka into the room behind them.
I turned Jorlka to me one more time, away from the pair. “Okay, Jorlka. Are you sure now? There is no judgement or shame if you have second thoughts.”
Havingsway stared daggers at me as I said these words. I glared back quickly, with a look that said ’I will find a baseball bat’. I swear to fucking god, I might actually turn violent if I get wind that these two pressured him. The message was received as he averted his eyes from me with a brief flash of fear.
“I’m… I’m fine. I need to do this.” I pulled him into a hug, giving him a reassuring embrace, and whispered into his ear.
“My office is just back down the hall. Come back right away, okay? I’ll be there for you, even if you back out.”
His breathing hitched, and he softly replied back. “… Thank you.”
I released and let the pair of doctors take him through the door. I watched as it closed behind him, then turned back to my office.
[Time advancement: 40 minutes]
He should have been back by now… I think. How long do male Venlil...
I shook my head to rid myself of that thought. I actually didn’t want to know. I turned my head to look at my water kettle which had finished boiling. I emptied a packet of instant coffee into a mug and poured the water in after it.
There was a ding from my computer, indicating that I just got an email. Thank goodness, I’d been going a bit stir crazy. Jorlka is scheduled to be my entire day today because of how important he is, so I haven’t had much to do but worry about him.
I poured in a packet of sugar, and a little cup of real cream that I swiped from the special cafeteria–I’ve never liked the non-dairy stuff–and stirred the mug with a plastic spoon as I returned to my desk to check the email.
Sitting at my desk, I set the mug aside and opened my mailbox, to find that I had received a new message from the team responsible for handling information from the Archives. They were the ones responsible for sorting and getting back to each of the different alien societies that were negatively impacted by the actions of the Federation. They were also the ones that had found Jorlka’s cryopod.
This is unusual. I figured I was done talking with them now that Jorlka was safely brought back to his home. I opened the email.
[ERROR. ERROR. ANAMOLY DETECTED IN TRANSCRIPTION.]
[RESUME PLAYBACK? Y/N]
[Y]
[RESUMING PLAYBACK]
Dear Dr. Taylor:
We have recently come across a new discovery in the Archives: Additional files pertaining to the Venlil that was originally found within, as well as a shocking new revelation.
He was not the only one. We have found a second pod that was buried away in the furthest depths, forgotten by the archivists themselves. We scoured all records pertaining to the Venlil and only found a single file that references this Venlil.
Attached to this email is an image we have taken of the cryopod and its occupant, as well as the relevant files. We believe this Venlil has ties to the one that you have already been working with, so we will be sending this pod to you for you to awaken.
The new Venlil will arrive within 5 days.
The UN Archive recovery team
Oh, holy shit! Jorlka isn’t alone anymore?! I hastily opened the first file. It was a record directly from the Archive, recorded by an unnamed Farsul scientist. It was recorded in their language, but the translator in the software quickly turned the text to plain English for me.
Subject_001
Species: Venlil
Sex: Male
Status: Stasis
Archivist note: The first Venlil we have abducted as we begin our efforts to indoctrinate the planet of Skalga Venlil Prime. We have elected to keep this subject in stasis, and to keep their physiology untouched. If and when we go about altering the genecode of their species, it will be good practice to keep a pure sample in case of unforeseen complications.
End of file
Attached to the file is an image of Jorlka asleep in his pod, with a small label placed on him denoting him as ‘Subject_001’.
Well, this would be the file on Jorlka. Nothing major here, other than stating WHY the Farsul kept him on ice. I can show him this when he gets back, I guess?
This really didn’t feel that important when compared to what was coming. I opened the image file first out of curiosity.
It showed a cryopod that looked identical to the one that Jorlka arrived in, with the glass frosted over. The frost on the glass made it difficult for details of the occupant within to be seen. I could see the outline of a white Venlil, and the contours of a snout were visible through the opaque lid.
This image wasn’t that much help, but maybe Jorlka will recognize them?
I clicked on the data file after I gave up on trying to extract more detail from the image.
Subject_002
Species: Venlil
Sex: Female
Status: Stasis
Archivist note: The first subject of the efforts to tame the Venlil populus. The genecode was successfully altered in the embryo within her womb. The subject gave birth to the first corrected Venlil. The subject was placed back into stasis shortly after. As her own genecode is still pure, she will be kept as a pure sample in case of unforeseen complications.
Archivist note: Thank you. You were a delight to have, and we apologize for the less than amicable ending to our relationship. We hope you will one day forgive us.
End of file
Oh, dear god, what the fuck did they put her through!?
I was not given any time to process this information: there was a click at the front of the room. The door had closed had Jorlka was standing there. His face was lined with tear stains, and his eyes were shot.
“R-Rebecca… It is done.” His voice was cracked. His entire body shook with distress.
I rose from my desk and quietly made my way to him. Without a word said I wrapped my arms around him, and he started to weep into my shoulder. Tears flowed fresh from his eyes and stained into my blouse. His armed reached up, shaking the entire time, and gripped the lose fabric above my hips.
We stayed there in silence. He said something. It was barely a whisper. It was barely audible.
“Why does she have her name?” His paws gripped harder on my shirt. His claws pierced through the fabric with a tearing noise. “Why does she have her eyes?”
I gently patted him on the back and did what I could to soothe him, with a gentle shush. He sank deeper into my embrace. I didn’t understand what he was asking, or who he was referencing, but that wasn’t my concern right now.
I need to help him get his mind off what he just went through.
“Jorlka, you did something really great for your people, nothing to be ashamed of.” I gently guided the two of us back towards the couch in my office and sat us down, giving him more physical reassurance. “And I, as well as Freya, will do whatever we can to help you.”
His state started to calm down as he kept his arms tightly bound to my body. “I-I know…”
“If it’ll help you get your mind off it, I have what I think will be good news for you.”
He slowly pulled away from me and reached for some of the tissues on the coffee table. I gave him a moment to blow his nose and wipe the tears away. “G-Good news? What kind?”
“I just got a message from the humans that are managing the efforts to sort the Archive information. They found some new information on you, as well as something that will really shock you, cause it absolutely just shocked me.” I placed my hand on his should and rubbed it lightly, waiting for his response.
“And what would that information be? That those bastards killed more of my people?” His ears folded back frustrated as he let out some cynicism. I don’t blame him; it is information about the Archives. Everything related to that damn place has been absolute shit for him.
“No, they found another Venlil in stasis, and she’s unmodified like you.”
“WHAT!?” His ears shot up in alarm as this clearly flabbergasted him harder than it did to me. “REALLY!? WHO!?” His paws landed on my shoulders again as he took hold of me, enraptured by what I just said.
I couldn’t help but to laugh at the sudden change, it really brought some refreshing levity that I felt was much-needed. “Easy there, big guy! I can show you the files on my computer. Come on.”
He shot up onto his paws and bolted by my PC before I could stand up properly myself, before coming to a stop, realizing that he didn’t know how to use the device. He turned back to me slightly embarrassed at how he acted and making an effort to not seem impatient. I gave him an understanding smile as I walked around him and sat in my chair.
Then, with a few taps on my keyboard I opened the message again and resized the window so that it was all seen on the screen, before turning it to the Skalgan.
He stood in silence reading the messages and the files, before his eyes fell onto the image of the opaque white Venlil in the pod. Then the only word that left his mouth was the thing that shocked me the most out of all of this, more than everything that email contained.
“… Freya.”

The Dungeon Dungeon Fruit is a paramecia-type devil fruit that allows the user to become a living dungeon, making them a Dungeon Master.

Strengths

Upon consuming the Dungeon Dungeon Fruit, the user will gain a permanent pocket dimension of a dungeon within themselves which they are able to customise however they like. The user can teleport people and objects into their dungeon through touch, shrinking them down and transporting them into the dungeon's interior.
The user also gains the ability to transform their body into a full-size dungeon matching the pocket dimension one as it is just the pocket dimension one expanding into the world and transforming the user into the building. If the user is above ground their dungeon will resemble a tower as it towers above the ground with its height dependent on the number of flours the user has created. If the user does it above ground the dungeon's rules of floors get flipped and the lower floors are weaker with the higher ones being stronger. Also, there will be an entranceway for people to enter or exit at the bottom of the "tower" form. If the user is underground their dungeon will meld with the environment and go down with the height dependent on the number of flours the user has created, additionally, the user will rise or sink to have an opening on the surface marking the entrance into the dungeon. When transformed the user has complete control over the dungeon, allowing them to manipulate its structure, features, and contents as if it were an extension of their own body. The user can enhance the durability of their dungeon, fortifying it against environmental hazards and potential threats.
Inside the dungeon, the user is able to create anything that can be found in a dungeon, including but not limited to, weapons, monsters, treasures, puzzles, traps, etc. The user is able to take out their creations however they must keep physical contact with it constantly and if they don't it will disappear and reappear back in their dungeon when the user has the energy to create it again.
Inside the dungeon, the user has absolute control capable of creating and controlling anything and everything in relation to dungeons.

Weaknesses

Standard devil fruit weaknesses apply.
Floors: The user has to separate the structure of their dungeon into floors, with every floor down able to create stronger entities and items with more elaborate and stronger traps and treasures.
Creatures: The creatures that the user creates in the dungeon are able to be influenced and controlled by the user's direct orders but anything besides the user's direct orders can possibly be disobeyed or dismissed by the creatures.
Outside contact: Items and creatures that the user made within their dungeon will turn into dust once they are apart from the user. Meaning that an item or creature can be taken out but only partially. The user can take out a sword and use it as a weapon but once they discard it or it no longer makes physical contact with them it will start to turn to dust.
Energy: It takes energy for the user to make anything within the dungeon be it items, monsters, or even them manipulating the dungeon to their will to make the impossible happen, or even remake the dungeon and its contents. The stronger the things/creatures that they create the more energy it will cost the user.
Space & Haki: Strong haki can neutralize creatures within the dungeon and make passage throughout the dungeon really easy, additionally any space manipulation can enable people the ability to escape from the user's Dungeon unless the user is constantly twisting space to prevent them from doing this.
'Magic': The dungeon is filled with the user's energy which they can use like magic. The 'Magic' within the dungeon can only ever be the user's energy that they used to create phenomenon, it is not real magic but the user using their ability to create anything within the dungeon. Haki can disrupt this energy and make the user's control over the dungeon unstable/erratic and it acts as a kind of anti-magic.
Destruction: Vistors can destroy the dungeon and trigger a full-scale collapse in order to get out of the dungeon quickly.
Dungeon Limit: The Dungeon can be of any size be it 1 floor, 10 floors, 100 floors or even 10,000 floors as many as the user wants, and these floors can be as big or as small as the user wants with space distorting to the users will. As well as the contents being however the user wishes them to be. However, the user is limited to having only one Dungeon created at a time.

Techniques:

The core of the Dungeon: This technique allows the user to merge their physical form with their dungeon, becoming the true core and centre of the Dungeon. When activated, the user's body undergoes a transformation, imbuing them with the visual appearance of their dungeon while retaining their base form's humanoid shape. The user appears as their usual self but with subtle manifestations of their dungeon's architecture spread across their entire body visible both internally and externally. Parts of the user's body may take on a spectral or ethereal quality, resembling stone, wood, or other materials found within their dungeon. Floors within the dungeon will be visible on the user's body and the user can interact with them like normal. While in this state, the user's control of their dungeon and sense of the dungeon as a part of their body is strengthened, granting them unparalleled control over its features and inhabitants. They can sense disturbances, manipulate the environment, and summon forth creatures or objects from within their domain with ease. The user's thoughts and intentions shape the very fabric of their dungeon, allowing them to adapt and respond to any situation. The Core of the Dungeon technique offers numerous tactical advantages. In addition to serving as a formidable defensive measure, it enables the user to access their dungeon's resources and defences instantaneously. They can summon forth weapons, traps, or allies as needed instantaneously. Additionally, the strongest part of this technique is that the user is able to take on the full condition of the dungeon allowing them to be as durable as the entire dungeon combined, as smart as the entire dungeon combined, and the user is able to draw on all the strength of the entire dungeon, etc.
Dungeon Gate: The user is able to create a portal on any part of their body, this portal can connect to anywhere within their dungeon. The user can use this to take out something or someone from their dungeon temporarily, the user can also use this to make an opening for one of their creatures to attack from the portal or to take out an item.
Treasure: The user can create valuable items or weapons from their dungeon and bring them into the real world by maintaining physical contact. However, these items will disappear if contact is broken.

• Eternal Chalice: A mystical cup that, when filled with any liquid, will never run out of that liquid until the cup is turned over completely and the contents are completely spilt out.
• Golem's Heart: A magical gem that, when placed on the ground, summons a powerful stone golem to protect the owner of the treasure. The Golem is about the same size as a goblin and is made of solid stone, it will last until it is completely broken.
• Chrono Amulet: An amulet that allows the wearer to slow down and speed up their movements at will, giving them a significant advantage in battle. However, there is a high energy consumption which increases the more the wielder wants to speed up or slow down.
• Spectral Lantern: A lantern that can summon spirits to aid the user in various ways, such as scouting, fighting, or showing the way. The wielder must make sure the spirits they summon listen to them and make sure that the spirits don't try to lead the wielder to the dead's same fate.
• Serpent's Eye: An orb that grants the user the ability to see through illusions and detect hidden objects or beings. The orb has a swirling pattern inside that resembles a serpent's eye. However, Continuous use can strain the user's eyesight.
• Dragon’s Eye: A gem that allows the wielder to see through illusions and detect lies by emitting a faint glow when deception is present. The wielder must be paying attention to the gem to see it glow, plus someone may be talking too fast for the wielder to understand what words they said are a lie or not. It also has a limited range of effectiveness.
• Death's Whisper: A pendant that allows the user to communicate with the dead, gaining their knowledge and advice. The pendant is shaped like a skull with glowing eyes. However, communicating with the dead can attract malevolent spirits.
• Spirit Stone: A gemstone that can capture and contain the essence of defeated enemies, allowing the user to temporarily harness their abilities. The stone has a limited capacity and requires time to recharge between uses. Using too many abilities at once can overwhelm the wielder or allow them to be possessed by the collective spirits within the gemstone should their spirit not be strong enough.
• Starlight Pendant: A pendant containing a fragment of a fallen star. It allows the user to harness the power of starlight, creating blinding flashes, energy beams, and shields of light. The pendant's power diminishes in the absence of starlight or strong light sources. Continuous use can cause the pendant to overheat, requiring a cooldown period.
• Serpent's Fang Dagger: A dagger crafted from the fang of a mythical serpent. It can inject a potent venom that paralyzes or weakens its victims. The venom needs time to replenish after each use, limiting the number of effective strikes in a short period.
• Starry Night Robe: A robe adorned with patterns that mimic the night sky, granting the wearer the ability to blend into their surroundings and move silently. The camouflage effect is less effective in brightly lit environments.
• Abyssal Grimoire: A dark tome filled with forbidden knowledge and powerful spells. Reading from the grimoire allows the wielder to cast devastating dark magic at the cost of their own vitality. Each spell cast siphons a portion of the wielder’s life force, and prolonged use can lead to severe consequences, including physical and mental corruption.
• Eclipse Ring: A ring that harnesses the power of lunar and solar eclipses, allowing the wielder to cast powerful light and shadow magic. The ring’s power is tied to the phases of the moon and solar cycles, making it weaker during certain times.
• Whispering Leaves: An enchanted book filled with ancient knowledge of nature magic. When read, it allows the wielder to communicate with plants and animals. Requires time to read and understand the spells. Using powerful spells can drain the wielder's energy and concentration.
• Evil Dispelling Talisman: A talisman that wards off evil spirits and curses, providing protection against dark magic and supernatural threats. One-time use.
• Talisman of Fortitude: A talisman that increases the wearer’s resilience, providing protection against physical and magical damage. The protection requires energy to maintain and can fail if the wielder is overwhelmed by powerful attacks. One-time use.
• Shadow Dagger: A dagger that allows the user to merge with shadows, becoming invisible and intangible while within them as well as allowing them to directly attack someone's shadow as if it were tangible. It is ineffective in well-lit environments, and cannot physically harm anyone bar their shadows.
• Vortex Gauntlet: A gauntlet that can create and control miniature vortices, allowing the wielder to manipulate wind and suction forces. The gauntlets have high energy consumption and limited range. Overuse can cause severe strain on the user’s arm.
• Stockpile Gauntlet: A gauntlet encrusted with crystals that can absorb and store magical energy, which can then be released in powerful bursts. Has a limited capacity for storing energy and can become unstable if overloaded. The release of energy is also taxing on the user’s arm causing it to strain from the backlash of powerful attacks/blasts.
• Warlock's Staff: A staff imbued with dark magic that enhances the wielder's spellcasting abilities and allows them to drain the life force of enemies. The staff’s dark magic can corrupt the wielder over time, leading to physical and mental deterioration.
• Harmony Orb: An orb that balances opposing forces, allowing the wielder to neutralize magic. The orb’s power can be overwhelmed by extremely powerful magic.
• Tempest Bow: A bow that allows the wielder to shoot arrows infused with the power of wind, capable of creating powerful gusts and small tornadoes on impact. The bow has a high energy cost and requires the wielder's energy to create wind-infused arrows. The bow's effectiveness is reduced in enclosed or windless environments.
• Blazing Quiver: A quiver that enchants any arrows placed within it to become flaming arrows, capable of setting targets ablaze on impact. The fire enchantment drains the user’s stamina, and arrows can be extinguished by water or strong winds.
• Seeker’s Map: A magical map that reveals the location of hidden treasures, secret passages, and important landmarks. It can easily be burned or torn and damaged by water like aged papyrus.
• Orb of Whispers: A crystal ball that allows the wielder to communicate telepathically with anyone they have met before, no matter the distance. The telepathy is one way and there is no way to know if the message they sent was successful without meeting up with them.
• Frostfire Lantern: A lantern that can switch between emitting a freezing cold light or a searing hot flame, depending on the wielder's needs. The lantern drains energy quickly when used in either mode, and the user must be careful to avoid harming themselves or allies with the extreme temperatures.
• Mermaid’s Locket: A locket that grants the wearer the ability to breathe underwater and communicate with aquatic creatures. The locket’s power is limited to water environments and drains energy if outside of water for extended periods.
• Phoenix Tear Flask: A flask containing a single, precious tear from a phoenix, which can heal any wound or cure any illness when consumed. The flask only contains a single use, and once used, it cannot be refilled. The healing effect can be overwhelming and incapacitating for a short period.
• Shifting Sands Bottle: A bottle filled with enchanted sand that can transform into various shapes and forms at the wielder's command. Controlling the sand requires mental concentration, and the transformations are temporary, reverting to sand if not maintained.
• Thunder Drum: A drum that, when played, can summon thunder and lightning to strike at the wielder's command wherever they are looking. Playing the drum is physically demanding, and summoning lightning requires precise timing and significant energy.
• Astral Compass: A compass that points towards the nearest source of magical energy, helping the user find enchanted objects and places. The compass can be misleading if multiple sources of magic are nearby, and it requires mental focus to interpret correctly.
• Seraphim’s Feather: A single, radiant feather that grants the wielder the ability to manifest wings and fly and create protective barriers of light. When the wielder manifests wings they gain a slight regeneration capable of suppressing minor illnesses and closing small cuts. However, flying and creating barriers drain the user’s stamina quickly, and the feather’s power diminishes if used excessively without rest.
• Celestial Harp: Crafted from the finest celestial metals and adorned with shimmering angelic runes, this harp produces music that can heal wounds, soothe minds, and uplift spirits. When played, it can calm storms, mend broken hearts, and bring peace to troubled souls. However, its power can only be harnessed by those with a pure heart.
• Saint's Cloak: A cloak woven from threads of starlight and blessed by archangels. It grants the wearer invisibility, protects them from harm, and allows them to move silently and swiftly. The cloak also has the power to create protective barriers that can shield allies. Only those with a heart dedicated to good can wear the cloak without it losing its power.
• Inferno Ring: A ring that grants the wearer the ability to control and manipulate fire, allowing them to create fireballs, walls of flame, and other fiery constructs. The ring consumes a significant amount of energy, and the ring is unable to be used when it is covered in water or ice.
• Moonstone Pendant: A pendant that enhances the wearer’s intuition and allows them to see in complete darkness. The enhanced intuition can be overwhelming, causing sensory overload if used for extended periods.
• Gauntlet of Titans: A gauntlet that grants the wearer immense strength, allowing them to perform feats of great physical power. The increased strength drains the user's stamina rapidly and can cause muscle strain if overused.
• Enchanted Quill: A quill that can write on its own, create detailed maps, transcribe spoken words, or draw intricate designs. The quill requires the wielder's concentration and drains mental energy, becoming less effective if used for extended periods.
• Gale Fan: A fan that controls the wind, allowing the user to create powerful gusts or gentle breezes. The fan requires physical effort to use effectively, and prolonged use can cause fatigue.
• Slothful Amulet: An amulet that induces a state of lethargy and apathy in the wearer, allowing them to no longer feel fatigued more than the amulet makes them, making them capable of doing strenuous activity while having the same amount of energy. However, prolonged use leads to a life devoid of purpose or ambition, trapped in a perpetual cycle of laziness and stagnation.
• Prideful Armour: Armour adorned with intricate designs and enchantments, the more prideful the wearer is the stronger the armour becomes allowing it to take attacks that appear instantly fatal. However, once the user takes off this armour they will feel worthless and will despair until they wear the armour again or learn to live without it.
• Greed's Coin: A golden coin that multiplies the wielder's wealth with each transaction, bringing untold riches to its owner. However, every gain comes at the expense of others, leading to exploitation and manipulation. The insatiable desire for wealth will eventually drive the user to commit increasingly ruthless acts, ultimately isolating them from all but their material possessions.
• Glutton's Chalice: A chalice that endlessly produces the finest foods and beverages, satisfying every craving of the user. Indulging in its offerings grants temporary pleasure and sustenance but leads to insatiable hunger and addiction. Over time, the user becomes enslaved by their own desires, unable to resist the allure of excess.
• Wrath's Broken Sword: A broken Zweihänder infused with the fury of the enraged, granting the wearer immense strength and destructive power. When activated, the sword will grow as if healing itself from all of its lifetime of damage, and then it engulfs the user in a raging aura of flames, enhancing their combat prowess but clouding their judgment with unbridled anger. Prolonged use risks losing control and becoming consumed by rage.
• Envy's Mirror: A mirror that reflects the desires of the beholder, showing them what they covet most in the world. When gazed upon, the user can see what they want the most in the world, and then they can take it out of the mirror, a mirrored copy of what they want the most. However, the more they use the mirror the more they will begin to envy those around them succumbing to its temptations which can lead to obsession and eventual downfall.
• Lust's Mask: A mask that enhances the allure and charisma of the wearer, captivating all who gaze upon them with irresistible charm and desire. While wearing it, the user can manipulate others to fulfil their every whim and desire. However, once the mask is removed the user will look disfigured permanently, with only a holy artefact that can remove curses capable of dispelling the terrible effects.
• The Crown That No One Wanted: A Crown that once worn will grant its wearer the power to be empowered by every sin they commit and others commit in the wearer's vicinity. However, this crown can not be removed except upon the wearer's death, and everyone the wearer sees the wearer will be able to see all of their sins and the next sin they are about to commit.
• Amulet of the Demi-Lich: An ancient amulet crafted from obsidian and etched with ominous glyphs, housing the imprisoned essence of a powerful demi-lich. When worn, the amulet bestows upon the wearer all the Demi-Lich's knowledge of dark magic and necromancy, granting access to the lich's vast repository of forbidden spells and arcane rituals. The wearer gains the ability to draw upon the demi-lich's powers, wielding dark energies to bend the forces of life and death to their will. Shadows obey their command, and the air grows thick with the whispers of the undead. However, with each use of the amulet's power, the malevolent consciousness of the demi-lich begins to seep into the wearer's mind, whispering temptations and promises of unimaginable power. The wearer's thoughts become consumed by the lich's desires, their will is slowly eroded by its relentless influence. If the wearer succumbs to the lich's control, their body becomes a vessel for its resurrection. The amulet shatters, releasing the demi-lich's essence to merge with the wearer's soul, transforming them into a vessel of undeath. From the ashes of the wearer's humanity, the demi-lich rises once more, eager to unleash its reign of darkness upon the world once more.
• Lich's First Wand: Crafted from the ancient and gnarled wood of the Veilwood trees, this wand holds the essence of the lich's earliest forays into magic, before corruption took hold. The wood is smooth to the touch, with delicate carvings depicting scenes of nature and life. When wielded by a skilled mage, the Veilwood Staff channels the untainted magic of its creation, granting the user the ability to manipulate the forces of nature and harness the primal energies of the earth. It can conjure gentle breezes, summon vines to entangle foes, and heal wounds with the touch of its tip. Unlike the dark artefacts associated with lichdom, the Veilwood Staff does not seek to corrupt or dominate its wielder. Instead, it serves as a reminder of the lich's origins and the purity of their magical pursuits before succumbing to the allure of immortality. However, despite its benign nature, the staff still bears the lingering echoes of the lich's ambitions and desires. Those who wield it may experience faint whispers and visions of the lich's past, offering glimpses into the choices that led to their transformation. The lich's pleads for help to find the one that he could not echo in the wielder's dreams, to complete what he never could.

Dungeon Master's Clarvoiant Gaze: The user can see through the eyes of any creature or object within their dungeon, providing them with complete surveillance of their domain. Although this can be very helpful to the user to help them survey their dungeon as if they are all seeing, without training, they will have no attention of their surroundings and may be ambushed in their distraction.
Monster Maker: The user manifests fearsome creatures within their dungeon, bringing them to life from the depths of their imagination. By channelling their energy and focusing their will, the user can create a wide variety of monsters, each with unique abilities, characteristics, and behaviours. These creatures serve as guardians, minions, or challenges within the dungeon, obeying the user's commands and defending their domain against intruders. To create a creature the user goes through three steps; Visualization, Energy Channeling, and Materialization. Firstly the user begins by visualizing the creature they wish to create, envisioning its form, size, and attributes in vivid detail. They draw upon their knowledge of mythology, folklore, and imagination to craft a truly unique monster. Then with a focused mind and a surge of energy, the user channels their power into the creation process, infusing the imagined creature with life force. This energy serves as the catalyst for bringing the creature into existence within the dungeon. Lastly, as the energy takes shape, the creature materializes within the user's dungeon, emerging from the depths as a tangible entity. The user can control the creature's appearance, abilities, and behaviour to suit their needs and objectives. The user can make any type of monster that they like, the only limit is their energy and their imagination, but some examples include; Beasts: Ferocious creatures such as dire wolves, giant spiders, or griffins, possessing keen senses and formidable physical abilities. Undead: Reanimated corpses, skeletal warriors, or spectral apparitions, instilling fear and dread in those who encounter them. Elementals: Living embodiments of natural elements, including fiery salamanders, watery serpents, or earthen golems, each with unique elemental powers. Aberrations: Bizarre and otherworldly entities, such as tentacled horrors, shape-shifting mimics, or mind-controlling aberrations, capable of confounding and terrifying intruders. Constructs: Artificial beings crafted from magical or mechanical components, ranging from clockwork automatons to golems forged from enchanted stone or metal. They can also create many more, but these are only some examples. The user can control their creations in multiple ways and command them to act together; The user can maintain their control over the monsters they create, commanding them with their will and asserting their dominance as the Dungeon Master. The monsters obey the user's orders without question, serving as loyal guardians or relentless assailants. Also, the user can tailor the behaviour and objectives of the monsters to suit their needs, directing them to patrol specific areas, guard valuable treasures, or attack intruders on sight. The main limitations of Monster Maker are its energy consumption, maintenance, and the limits of the user's control, just meaning that the monsters can possibly rebel if they are strong enough and the user has mistreated them.
Fake Floor: The user creates a temporary floor within their dungeon that can hold illusions, making it seem like a normal, physical floor with traps, monsters, or treasures. All of the illusions on this floor seem real and can actually work to a degree on this floor with illusions capable of causing damage (although weaker than normal and unable to cause any damage if the illusion is seen through) and even treasures appearing to work within the fake floor, but upon exit of the fake floor, they will find out that everything they gained from the floor was but an illusion.
Safe Floor: The user creates a temporary floor within their dungeon that can act as a sanctuary for those within the dungeon. This floor is imbued with a protective aura that prevents any monsters or hostile entities from entering. Additionally, it has a restorative effect, healing anyone inside over time. The effect of keeping monsters out acts as a semi-permeable barrier and can be broken or pierced by high-ranking creatures.

• A Sanctuary For Everyone: If a low-lever monster is pulled into the safe zone by others then it can turn into a normal harmless creature like a deer, squirrel, badger, etc.

Exit Floor: The user creates a temporary floor within the dungeon in between any floor that they want that allows visitors to leave the dungeon. The Exit floor will appear at the end of every dungeon and will be the turnaround point for the visitor(s) allowing them to go back into the dungeon from the start, where they came from, or even leaving the dungeon entirely.
Empty Floor: The Empty Floor is the start and the end of the dungeon, it will always be present and from here the user can create the dungeon, store whatever they want to, keep others safe here, etc. The empty Floor will be present even when the dungeon is destroyed, it can never be destroyed except with the death of the user. This floor is free from all laws, no laws from the universe exist in this space without the user making them. No laws not even life, death, time, space, reality, cause and effect are present within this floor without the user making them exist. In the case of Life and death do not exist here letting those who die in the dungeon live here should the user want them to, the user can even reincarnate them into a creature however this would make them completely reliant on the dungeon and die should they leave the dungeon and the connection with the user. Anyone within this floor is capable of moving throughout the dungeon as they please and even leave as they, please.
Dungeon Collapse: The user can start a dungeon collapse, making their dungeon and all of its floors begin to collapse, starting from its first floor and going to its last floor. Space will begin to distort and the monsters will either flee to other floors in order to survive a little longer or crumble to dust from the cataclitic wave of destruction that the user set in motion. The user can send any creatures that they wish to survive into the Empty Floor. Any visitor within the Dungeon will have to flee from the dungeon collapse as quickly as they can and reach the exit, if they cannot make it in time then they will be heavily wounded and possibly killed by the collapse of the dungeon depending on debre, and they will wake up in the Empty Floor dead or alive.
Treasure Trove: The user can create hidden chambers within their dungeon filled with valuable treasures and artefacts. These chambers can only be accessed through secret passages or by solving intricate puzzles. Creating elaborate treasures consumes a significant amount of the user's energy.
Gate: The user can create temporary portals within their dungeon that allow instant travel between different locations. These portals can be used for rapid deployment of allies or for quick escapes. Gates require precise control and consume a large amount of energy. Misuse can lead to unintended destinations or portal malfunctions.

• Defensive Gate: The user creates a gate on their body which either pulls in someone who makes contact with it, or it takes in an enemy's attack making that attack directly damage the dungeon in the location of wherever the user set the destination of the gate.
• Pocket Gate: The user creates a gate on their body and pulls out an item or stores an item in it allowing for quick storage and allowing the user to take out weapons from seemingly nowhere.
• Gate Binding: The user makes multiple gates on their body and traps a target's limbs in the different gates stopping their movements. The gates are not strong enough to rip the target apart but the user can use creatures on the other side of the gates to hold the target in place.

Awakening:

With the awakening of the Dungeon Dungeon Fruit, the user can now use their abilities on a much larger scale, with their mind finally caught up with their powers, their powers are able to affect the world around them spreading much further than their body once stopped them. Their power spills over into the world around them, letting them expand their dungeon into the environment shaping it to their desire. The user is able to extend their abilities to what could be considered impossible or illogical, empowering old techniques to new heights and creating new ones that were not possible before.

Awakening Techniques:

Heart of the Dungeon: Similar to "The Core of the Dungeon," the Heart of the Dungeon allows the user to merge their physical form with their dungeon, but it comes with even greater powers and capabilities. When the user activates the Heart of the Dungeon, they gain the extraordinary ability to morph and reshape their immediate surroundings to form the intricate corridors, chambers, and traps of their dungeon. This transformation is both fluid and immediate: walls sprout from the ground, ceilings stretch overhead, and floors ripple like liquid, all under the user's absolute control. The entire dungeon environment responds to the user's movements and commands, making it a living extension of their will. Moreover, the Heart of the Dungeon bestows upon the user the power to draw strength from everything within their dungeon. This includes the treasures hidden within its depths, the creatures that inhabit its halls, and the traps laid to ensnare intruders. Every element of the dungeon, whether animate or inanimate, contributes to the user's power, enhancing their physical abilities, powers, and overall resilience.
Dungeon break: The user is able to create a gate that connects to the inside of their dungeon and then releases whatever they want, may it be the creatures, treasures, or even the dungeon itself causing space to distort and merge the dungeon with the world around them. Creatures will pour out of the gate in a stampede, treasures and items can pour out of the gate like a sea of gold, and the dungeon can expand out of the gate like a crawling calamity. The gate while being a spatial distortion can still be broken with enough force. Once the gate(s) are closed then the creatures, items, and/or dungeon will be sucked back into the gate returning to the user's dungeon.

• Creatures: The user is able to create a massive amount of creatures within their dungeon and then release them from themselves pouring all the creatures with weapons and items that the user has created come out of a gate they created able to be used freely without fear of them disappearing until the user has run out of energy to sustain them.
• Dungeon: By creating a gate connecting to the user's dungeon, the user causes the surrounding area to 'fold' into their dungeon, effectively transporting portions of the external world into their dungeon and vice versa, until the gate is closed.

Authority: The user is able to grant a portion of their authority to people they brought into the dungeon or any creature they want, allowing them to control the creatures and the contents of a specific floor.

• Limited Trust: Limit the granted authority by time or a specific action, automatically revoking control after a certain period of specific condition(s) are met, ensuring temporary stewardship.
• Delegate: The user can specifically define the level of control an individual has over creatures and traps, fine-tuning the balance between autonomy and oversight.

Living Dungeon: The user can create a 'living' dungeon that adapts to intruders, capable of thought and acting in the best interest of the user and their dungeon. Capable of dynamically generating obstacles and challenges to test visitors specifically based on their observed strengths and weaknesses.
Trap Reave: With a single gesture, the user can implant numerous traps in their immediate environment or even within themselves that can then be activated and affect those nearby. These traps can have a multitude of hidden triggers and can be adjusted to be more potent, and capable of protecting larger areas with complex mechanisms.

• Chains: The user summons chains from the depths of their dungeon, binding and dragging enemies into their dungeon, whether it be from their gate or their main body, forcing targets to escape their dungeon.

Mini-Dungeon Core: The user creates a crystal-like smooth ball that contains a Dungeon within it, anyone who touches this mini-dungeon core will be drawn into the dungeon within and have to clear the dungeon to escape. However, since this is a mini-dungeon core it has a few limitations, firstly the dungeons in the mini-dungeon core can only have a maximum of 10 floors, additionally, the mini-dungeon core can be broken out of with either strong haki, spatial abilities, or any abilities that allow someone to break the crystal balls shell and release those trapped within it.

• Gate Landmark: The user can use the Mini-dungeon as a spatial anchor to allow them to teleport to the inside of the dungeon from their own dungeon and then exit it letting them be able to have a limited form of teleportation outside of the dungeon.
• Dungeon Master's Watch: Through the mini-dungeon core, the user can spy on those trapped inside the mini-dungeon, gathering information or learning from the way they handle the challenges presented to them.
• Dungeon Master's Hidden Influence: The user can control the creatures within the mini-dungeon core remotely, using them to perform tasks or relay messages to the outside world as if they were puppets. The user can also possess the creatures allowing them to share their senses and see through the creature's eyes and control them as easily as they can control their own body, however, the user will feel all of the body's physical pain and will also feel it's death should the creature die with the user possessing it.
• Fake Core: This generates a copy of the mini-dungeon core, which operates as a decoy, with both the original and the duplicate appearing legitimate to outsiders.

Awakening Weaknesses:

Energy: The vast expansion of power and control can be incredibly draining, meaning the user could risk total exhaustion or burnout if they use these abilities too frequently or for extended periods of time.
Heart of the Dungeon: While the user is merged with their dungeon the dungeon will be taking damage directly making every hit they take shake the dungeon and possibly collapse it. Additionally when the user is using a creature(s) and they take a serious hit that creature will die if that hit is strong enough to kill the creature(s). The same applies to treasures.
Dungeon Awareness: The user may need to split their awareness to monitor the larger area of effect of their dungeons and mini-dungeons, which can leave them blind to certain regions or overextended in their vigilance.
Waning Authority: Granting authority to too many individuals could dilute the user's overall control and open up the possibilities for internal conflict or sabotage.
Gate Fragility: The gates, while powerful and useful, are a lifeline for the user and their comrades getting in and out of the dungeon. The gates themselves are fragile and can be destroyed with enough strength or anyone capable of cutting space temporarily severing the user's lifeline in and out of the dungeon and cutting off a large amount of their powers until another can be made.
Dungeon Dissonance: The larger-scale dungeon transformations(brought into the environment) may not be as finely tuned as smaller-scale manipulations leading to instability or flaws that clever opponents can exploit.
Complexity: As old techniques are powered to new heights, the complexity of managing and understanding them also increases, which can lead to mistakes or malfunctions in their execution. Or it can just make it where the user is unable to make new techniques for most techniques.
Sensory Feedback: When the user possesses a creature they feel everything their controlled creatures feels, and then they might suffer from sensory overload or distraction during critical moments.

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

Hey all, thanks for your patience. Had some personal things going on this weekend. That said: I tried out my new option, and it didn't work quite as expected. Let me explain.
The technology being used in the video is called DisplayLink. Basically, it takes the work of video output and offloads it to an external device that captures what's on the screen via software using the DisplayLink Presenter app (which needs to be installed on the RG405m). What's being used in the video is a D3100 dock from Dell. These things go for about $100. I happened to have an extra at work, and low and behold, it worked. But... there's a caveat.
I also tried a D6000 dock from Dell (even more expensive), and it was no go... until I went into the developer settings on the RG405m and changed the default USB mode to "file transfer". This seems to prioritize data over power. The issue with the DisplayLink option is that it can't do data and power at the same time, as confirmed by the company here. So the D3100 works because it doesn't do power distribution, and the D6000 only works if you A) Turn on File Transfer mode in the developer options, or B) Go from the built-in USB-C connector to a USB-A adapter and then back to a USB-C connector, as this kills off power distribution as well.
Over the weekend, I got another device that's much cheaper: a WAVLINK USB3.0-to-HDMI adapter from Amazon. It's the cheapest USB-Anything to HDMI that uses DisplayLink that I could find. I got it in, connected it to a USB-A/USB-C adapter, tried it, and... no go. Based on the fact that there's a light on the adapter that never comes on, it seems it needs power supplied by the attached USB port... something the RG405m can't do. Now, I've also purchased a cheap POWERED USB-C hub with USB-A 3.0 ports on it. It arrived today, and this evening I'll try plugging the adapter into the hub, hub into power, and then RG405m into the hub. Theoretically, it should work. about $50 for a solution, but it still won't deliver power and display mirroring at the same time. Not the end of the world, but limiting.
The final thing I've ordered, which will be here tomorrow, is an MHL cable that has external power built-in. That's the base tech used in the LD39 video everyone's seen here. Looking up the LD39, however, there's no external power, so it likely doesn't work for folks because there's no power delivery from the device itself, meaning the little CPU inside can't power up. Gamma OS uses Lineage OS as its base, and for the RG405m its using the Google Pixel 3a version as its base, which you can see under Settings > About Device > Model. I highly doubt that the base board is an actual Google Pixel 3a board, but I can't confirm that yet as I haven't torn this thing apart. The Pixel 3a itself doesn't support MHL, but I can't figure out if that's a hardware limitation or a software limitation; Lineage OS, however, DOES support it. You can read more about it here on Android Stack Exchange. I'm not super hopeful on this one, but if it does work, that'll bring the total cost to get this running down to about $18.
Just wanted everyone to know what's gone into this. I'm not going to offer up a $100-200 solution as a final answer, and I'm also not going to just throw a bunch of random money at this while crossing my fingers until I get something that works. This has been a lot of research, a ton of deep diving, XDA/GitHub/Forum/Changelog reading, and tinkering with different connections and figuring out reliability. Now that I've got a couple solutions on the way, I hope to know by end of day tomorrow what price point we can expect a workable solution that'll work for everyone... because that's what this community is about! Stick with me folks... it's been a ride thus far!

I am talking about the initial turning on of the machine, when you need to press delete a bunch to get into bios. Gonna try to be as detailed as possible, for the best chance of someone knowing what is going on.
The state of how things are plugged in when I attempt to do this: my keyboard, a flash drive with windows 10 on it, the ssUSB that came with the monitor, the two metal screw-on bits for the wifi that came with the motherboard, and the usb for my mouse are plugged in to the motherboard. The HDMI cord that came with the monitor is plugged in to the GPU.
When I attempt to turn everything on, I plug the power source in to the wall, then the monitor's power cord. I make sure the I/O on the monitor is turned on. (At this point, the monitor will wake up and display the ASUS turning on screen. It will then display a message that reads "HDMI No Signal" before going dark again, the power indicator light changing from white to orange as it does so.) At this point, I turn on the computer using the I/O switch on the power supply, then I press the power button located at the front of my case, on top. At this point, the lights on my keyboard (that i did not know existed, very fun) will come on. The fans in the case, the CPU, and the GPU will all start going, and an orange light comes on inside the case. All signs of life. I start to quickly press the delete key, as I am told that the monitor will turn on and doing this will take me to the bios. The monitor never turns on though. No change in that sleepy orange light on it's corner. At this point, I usually either keep trying for a little while, or just wait a while, before powering off the machine at the back of the case(the power source).
Things I have already tried:

• I have re-seated the Graphics Card.
• I have unscrewed the two screws that hold it to the back of the case and then screwed them back in after letting the GPU settle ever so slightly lower, hoping that if the issue was the bar of metal at the back of the case being a little too close to the HDMI port and preventing the plug from going in all the way was the issue, that doing this would fix it. It did not.
• I have double checked that plugs are well plugged in at each end, and are where they should be as far as I know.
• I have tried doing the same process with my dad's DELL monitor, thinking that if i try a monitor that I know works, it could tell me whether or not the problem is the monitor itself. The DELL monitor (connected to the GPU via HDMI and with it's power source plugged in) had the same issue as my monitor, except instead of "HDMI No Signal", it displayed "Entering Power Saving Mode"

This is my first time building a PC, but i had help over video call from a friend who is really good with it, and who selected the parts for me. I know it works, everything starts spinning and lights turn on, but there is something I'm missing, potentially with this monitor. Please help LOL, I haven't had a working computer in 5 years and now that I've saved up and followed the steps and gotten SO close, this is really really frustrating.
I can provide images if needed. I feel like everything looks as it should though.
Here is the Part List that was made for me (with some commentary from my friend explaining to me what everything was)
Amd Ryzen 5 7600X = CPU (central processing unit)
be quiet! Dark Rock Pro 5 = Cooler (cools the cpu)
Asus TUF GAMING B650-PLUS = Mother board (fucking nerds and there naming conventions smh)
Corsair Vengeance 64 GB (2 x 32 GB) DDR5-6000 CL40 = Ram (also conveniently sometimes referred to as storage nice one guys)
Samsung 980 Pro 2 TB M.2-2280 = Storage (holds your files)
Asus DUAL OC GeForce RTX 4070 SUPER 12 GB = Graphics card (makes stuff look pretty, like 600$ pretty)
Fractal Design Meshify C = Case (holds all the guts in)
be quiet! Dark Power 13 1000 W 80+ Titanium = Power supply (gives the wall juice to the fairies inside the computer to make it go)
ASUS ProArt Display PA248QV 24.1” = Monitor (for ya eye holes)

Did you know that about 75,000 people go missing per year in Canada? I might’ve found another one to add to that tally, as someone by the name of Trinity Arthurs, a 20-year-old woman, disappeared seemingly without a trace on June 14th of last year, along with 19-year-old Marvin Arthurs, her brother. The question in everyone’s minds is why I’m telling you this.
It all started with a hike in the woods, on a trail, in Prince Albert National Park. I was enjoying the green, taking a deep breath from the fresh air of nature when I spotted something shining. When I looked at it, it became clearer that it was a Ziploc bag. I initially thought it was someone else tossing garbage on the forest floor, but when I picked it up, I realized something was in there. I looked closer at the bag and noticed there was a USB. I packed it into my bag and finished my hike. When I went home, I took the USB out of the Ziploc. I was very hesitant to plug it into my laptop, as I had only recently discovered it in some forest.
I plugged it in and took a deep breath, knowing of the risk of it. It didn’t affect the laptop in any way, but it did reveal only one file which says TRINITY E. ARTHUR’S ENTRIES. I clicked on it and it seems to be a bunch of Word documents, each noted as ENTRY. I couldn’t find anything else other than those files.
I decided to look up, only to find a single news article back then relating to Trinity’s case. I tried to send it to the police, but they thought of it as some sick fanfiction I wrote, so I am going to post it here, leaving it as is. To clarify, I did not write this. I hope this gains the attention of her case as it deserves.
_________________________________________________________________________
Entry 1 - Sepember 24th, 2023
Hello there, my name is Tris and this might be the very first time I have typed something personal on this laptop, like ever, maybe since elementary school, where we would write how we would feel for the day. Not really the type to socialize and not the type to write a journal, let alone digital, either, because what’s the point of it? I guess I’m just spilling out my thoughts, especially after what I’ve seen, so might as well put this to good use.
For context, this is about my father, Micheal Arthurs. I remembered him, at least before all of this, to be this big, strong guy who just simply had a nice hobby. In that case, that hobby is all about caves. He would spend some of his work money on these trips with one of his work buddies to explore cave systems. The reason? Maybe because he was fascinated with them, god knows when, maybe since he was a child. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about me and my two younger brothers, Marvin and James, as well as our mother, Martha.
He cared for us like any dad would, he would take us camping, tell us about his adventures in the caves, and spoil us with gifts we didn’t need but appreciated anyway. From time to time, he would give us shit if one of us tried to burn the house down by putting paper in a toaster, thinking we would automatically make some kind of magical spell, which actually happened. Hell, my middle name Edward came from him, strange for a girl like me. He used to tell me that he accidentally thought I was a boy when I was born, so that stuck. His trips also, I guess, strained his relationship with Mom, who always complained about him going somewhere for a week, worried sick for him and leaving her to care for us.
That was, until a few years ago, on the morning of May 8th, 2018 - about less than five years ago, when I was fifteen. He said that he’d be back in a week because he was going to explore a cave somewhere in Ontario. The last time I remembered him was when he and Mom made pancakes, bacon, and hashbrowns, of which the pancakes were made for me, even though I could’ve had toast instead. We joked around the table and asked what he’d be doing at the cave. Of course, he would tell his usual, like going into new passages and finding any cave paintings, if any, in the caves themselves. I could imagine the cave paintings he might discover depicting mammoths and saber-tooth cats back then, with people hunting them. After that, we cleaned up and Dad was ready to go. He each gave us a big, warm hug and shared a quick but gentle kiss with Mom. He waved us goodbye before stepping into his big grey Ford truck, all packed up, and drove through the streets of Saskatoon.
We waited. Hours turned to days, and we knew when he’d return. Those days then turned to weeks and we began to think there was something wrong. Mom was first to notice, so she called the RCMP to file a missing persons report. What we didn’t know was it became a whole mystery in itself. At first, they contacted his coworker, who usually caves with him, only to find he was equally as confused as us. That coworker was asked by my Dad if he wanted to go caving with him, only for him to abandon that plan due to a medical emergency relating to his wife. They then put up alerts for him so that anyone would come forward for his whereabouts. Some said they saw him at a local Costco store, others said he was going north, baffling us in the process as he would not go north for Ontario. At that point, there were no leads for a while.
At that time, we were waiting for him to go home. I did some investigating myself, along with my oldest brother Marvin, to find out where our Dad at. We thought this might be some alternate route he took, or that he might be going to Prince Albert to meet family. James, our youngest, seems to care less about the fact Dad is missing and more about talking to his friends. Looking back at it now, I guess this was his method of coping with the situation. Mom was not doing well. She would constantly ask the police to simply find him, but understandably they just couldn't without any new evidence.
That was until a surveillance camera at some gas station store in Blaire Lake spotted Dad. At first, he got out of the truck and put the nozzle in to fuel up. Once his truck was fueled up, he went inside the near-empty store, saved for a few guys, grabbed a few beef jerky and Gatoraids, and went to the cashier to pay for them. After that, he went through the door and back to his truck, driving off. That blew our minds and the crazier thing was that his truck was found, abandoned at a campsite in Martins Lake. The truck was later towed for investigation and found no evidence that he was killed or kidnapped at the truck, meaning he went somewhere. A few more people said they saw him carrying his bags and went into the woods to the west, assuming he was going on a hike. Hearing that news, they searched the woods, looking for any signs he was there without any sort of luck. The search was called off and the trail ran cold.
During that time, I was exhausted and realised I felt like nothing without him. I was in a spiral, always mad at everyone and expecting everyone to find my Dad, but at the same time, I was also beginning to be one of those people. The same people I expect to find my Dad. I then felt defeated and helpless, without purpose, begging whatever god was up there to bring my Dad back, hoping he was not hurt, at least alive. I hoped he found his way out of the woods. I hoped he survived an animal attack. It was only as days went by that I realised this was taking over me, wasting my life and mentality, and that was when I decided he wasn’t coming back. I decided that he might be dead, somewhere in those woods. I hoped that someone would find his remains one day. I guess I did move on, without knowing what happened to him.
Marv, on the other hand, never really accepted. He continued to find him, even to this day. He would do other things, of course, but would argue with someone once our Dad’s name was heard, saying he might still be alive. He did get into a few fights because of this. He now accepts he is dead, but holds onto the belief we should still look for him, to relieve us. Mom was doing worse than the rest of us. She would blame herself for not being with him and usually buys drinks to forget about it. Eventually, she would put a lot of pressure on me and criticize everything I did, putting a lot of stress on me. It got to the point where we would go into screaming matches about the simplest of things, drawing me down to regret ever getting mad at her in the first place. It was so bad that my aunt had to take me out of there for my safety. That was nearly three years ago and I didn’t even hear a word from her. One side of me hoped that she would get arrested for drunk driving, and the other hoped she’d get help.
James seemed to be the one least affected by this, surrounded by friends we didn’t have. The last time I heard of my little brother after his high school graduation, he was beginning to do some cave stuff, like our father. Matter of fact, he began his own small club of cavers a few years before he left. I never really knew what went on in his mind, but I guess he felt just as fucked-up as the rest of us, just that he had enough distractions to easily get away from those thoughts.
As for me, I eventually moved into an apartment with Marv and got a job as a security guard at some mall, at the suggestion of my aunt’s friend, a few years ago. Working there has improved me, even though I worked nights. It has given me some purpose and gets my mind off of the things that happen during the day.
You might ask me, mind to mind, why I’m giving myself some sob story to talk about. This morning, I was riding my electrical tricycle from work to my apartment in the frigid air. I went in there and saw an odd package that was under Marv’s name, although without an address. The box seems to be a cereal box, sealed with package tape. The name that it’s sent to seems to be written in Sharpie in printed form. I thought it was odd that somehow this package made its way inside and at our mailing station. Thinking that it might be someone attempting to play an odd prank on my brother, I initially thought about leaving it alone. Curiosity got the cat, however, so I picked up the box and lightly shook it. I felt and heard what seemed to be something inside of it, like one big thing and a few smaller ones.
I then took it to my apartment, where I opened the door and entered, closed the door, removed my boots on the mat, and set the box on the somewhat clean kitchen counter. Looking at it, I was initially hesitant about opening it because it was under his name. I left it alone, he was home most of the time, on his computer doing a few things. Going into my room, I took off my uniform and changed my pants to a pair of boxers, turned on the TV to sit and relax on my bed. Looking through the streaming service, I tried to look for anything relating to volcanoes, one of those topics I was very interested in at the time, but the content was lacking. I went for a documentary and sat back, watching.
A few minutes in and I can hear knocking on the door. I was annoyed initially, knowing it was my brother. I opened and I could see confusion yet a look of needing to know on his messy, bearded face as he stood at eye level, staring at each other.
Marv: What’s the cereal box in the kitchen?
Me: The cereal box?
Marv: Yes, the cereal box.
Me: I just found it in the mailroom when I came in. No address, nothing other than your name, so I brought it up.
Marv: Do you know what’s inside?
Me: Your guess is as good as mine.
We looked at each other with an equally confused expression, sharing the same thoughts. The only difference is that I looked in the area beside him, empty of thought except for that little mind that reads why would someone send us this package? He was wide-eyed albeit stone-faced and standing still.
Marv: Well, I will be looking inside anyways.
We then went into the kitchen where he grabbed a knife and put it in the box.
Me: Hey, should we use the scissors?
Marv: Why? This is good enough. Not like I’m going to cut myself with it.
He then slowly cut the seams of which the packaging tape sealed, eventually cutting the tape. He then opened it to reveal a USB, an SD card, and a video recorder.
Me: That’s odd.
Marv: I don’t know who sent it, but I hope it is someone who got the wrong address, to the wrong person with my name.
Me: Should we look what's inside them?
Marv: Well, let’s find out.
We then went to his messy clothes-ridden room and he went to his PC to turn it on. There, I began to get concerned about the mysterious USB.
Me: I think we shouldn’t plug it in.
Marv: Why?
Me: Viruses, bugs, the whole deal? We don’t know wha-
Marv: Don’t worry, this PC has antivirus on here. Besides, if it did shut down, we could at least wipe out the memory.
We plugged in the USB, anticipating some sort of pop-up from an unknown digital virus. Instead, nothing happened, maybe other than the notification that a device was plugged in. Marv then sat down to look into the files and see what he could find on the PC, but it felt wrong like we were snooping around. In those files, we could see a folder that says CAVE GIANTS. He clicked on it and there was just a collection of pictures, of cave paintings. The setting all of them seemed to take place in was dark and wet, only the walls of which the cave paintings are on. The paintings themselves, which are in black, depict what seems to be somewhat stick-figure men, some holding arrows and spears, others just standing. Some of those men hunted the animals on the walls, like bison, deer, and mammoths in a group-like manner. The predators seem to be treated with a little more respect, like cougars, wolves, and bears. That was the first few pictures until we met with the first odd thing about those paintings.
The picture in question has every human on the wall holding spears and arrows. No animals were visible. In the next few pictures, we see men without spears or arrows, which said men were upscaled, massive. Long, black legs and arms attach to small bodies and small heads, of which all have un-painted orbs, depicting their eyes, which harrowed us as they stared at us through the screen. It seems some of those tall men have extra or lack of arms and legs. The saying can be said for the eyes, but most are in that somewhat humanoid body plan. The smaller men with the arrows and spears look to be battling the tall men, with some tall men holding the smaller men. In a few more pictures, below the battle scene, were red handprints, unlike those of the black they used. There are no more pictures from here, but we were stunned at whatever we stumbled upon.
Marv: What the fuck. What was that?
Me: I don’t know, maybe an archeologist's USB?
Marv then looked at the screen and saw a second file that said GIANT DOCUMENTARY.
Marv: Giant documentary? A documentary on, okay, what? Giants?
Me: That’s what seems to be like.
We clicked on the folder to see the one mp4 file with the same name. We clicked on it and it started its intro with one of those songs you’d play on a nature educational video. It was black, until it slowly faded into a scene of a forest, with the video panning across gradually and with nature sounds. There, a man with a gruff voice began to narrate.
Narrator: Ever wondered what happened here? You would assume that in a far distant time, this was a different place.
It then transitioned to a scene of a tundra, along with a slideshow of all the animals that existed during the Ice Age. It seems the documentary was made by someone using the Moviemaker application.
Narrator: A cold tundra during the Last Ice Age, of which large mammoths ruled the plains, thick-furred camels gathered in herds, and American lions roamed in their respective pride, along with the large grizzlies, the roaming caribou, and the wolves that hunt in their packs.
I then showed pictures of a tundra landscape, along with a few of the creatures mentioned.
Narrator: That was the scene until man, or Homo Sapiens came along at the end of the Ice Age, ten thousand years ago. The large glaciers that used to cover a third of North America began to melt, causing a whole dramatic series of climatic events. Man took that opportunity to hunt down the prehistoric life that existed. Eventually, those mammoths and camels became extinct, along with the American lion, who relied on them for food, along with a whole plethora of prehistoric beasts that once roamed North America. Eventually, all the ice melted and mankind settled, creating what we know as Native Americans, the Cree, Aztecs, Iroquois, and many more, telling and passing on stories as history marches on.
It then showed a slide show of historical pictures of the tribes themselves, along with depictions of a few of them taking down mammoths and going face to face with sabre tooth cats.
Narrator: I may sound reasonable, based on the evidence found by archeologists and paleontologists alike. Besides, it is only plausible that man is the only species that could drive these wonderful species to extinction. What if I told you all, watching this, that another species used to exist in North America alongside Homo sapiens?
A picture, presumably from the 1800’s or something, showed up, and later a slide show of a few news articles about them. I then began to recognize the voice, a voice all too familiar… my father’s voice. At this time, we were shocked, as this was not what I remembered him and probably not even Marv. We were more shocked at how he took this secret with him and had this under our noses. Despite that, we kept on watching.
Dad: Giants, creatures supposedly of myth and legend, larger yet primitive versions of man, have walked the Earth for many years. Most of that so-called evidence comes in the form of huge, perhaps human-like, bones discovered by farmers and amateur archeologists alike all across neighbouring America. They would claim they built the massive mounds, like the famous Serpent Mound, all across the Midwest.
The slideshow of various examples of these mounds, frame by frame, went by until it stopped at a map of the Midwest, showing where they were.
Dad: Of course, most of these skeletons would either be misidentifications of ancient animals or hoaxes. As for the mysterious mounds, they are now discovered to be built by the good ol’ Hopewell societies, the Mound Builders, who made them as burials and ritual sites. Since then, there has been no new ground evidence of their existence except for the mythologies and legends captivating our cultures. At least, until now.
It then changed to a video recording of Dad, who is sitting in a chair and began explaining it like an explorer that has seen it all.
Dad: One day, while I and John were looking for a cave at Wells Grey Park somewhere in British Columbia, sometime during July of 1994, I saw this tunnel in the snow, somewhere on a high hill at the foot of a glacier. We grabbed our gear, went up to the cave, and we just went in. It took us a few minutes underneath all of that snow before we saw this stream enter this system, melting the snow. We climbed our way down there and reached the floor. We thought we were the first humans to ever set foot in this cave.
Now, as far as I know, to the naked eye, the cave itself is pretty much invisible, especially during winter. Even if anyone did find it, it would require them hours to climb loose rock and steep valley walls. What we found in this cave is quite unusual.
The frame then shows the cave paintings - the very same cave paintings we saw in those other pictures.
Dad: We found these cave paintings on the walls. They are painted in some kind of charcoal paint mix, likely used in the creation of them. At first, the scene depicts the hunter-gatherer lifestyle of the earliest settlers themselves, hunting the woolly mammoths, bison and caribou at the time, along with the bears, cougars, and wolves that are treated with respect. Going further down the cave, we began to see fewer animals and more people with spears and bows. That is when we found the tall figures, likely exaggerated by the artists to depict their size and how they saw it. How they depicted them is very long limbs attached to a smaller body and their eyes they didn’t paint over, a hollow gaze. I felt a harrowing feeling, seeing them and gazing into their eyes. There aren’t just a few, instead, there are many of them, some have extra limbs and eyes and a few even pick up the men depicted in the paintings.
By that time, the battery went dead but we marched on deeper into the cave. We found artifacts, like pottery and arrowheads. We then stumbled upon the remains of a campsite beside the bank of the stream. As I was taking it all in, my friend pointed at something with his flashlight. The scene I saw hit me like a ton of bricks, still haunting me to this day.
There were a few human remains, so decayed that only the bone remained. I seemed to be a family of four, still wearing their fur clothes. They seem to be trying to escape a threat, and ended up here to paint this mural, only to die the hard way. I could only imagine what they went through and looking back as a family man, that fate would be worse than death, waiting for the threat to be over, which never came.
I can see him tear up, in the video, crying. Amongst the muffled cries, he said this:
Dad: I wouldn’t wish that on my family. Not even my worst enemy.
He then continued that way for a few minutes, while my initial shock slowly turned to that of sympathy for him, as this was his first time finding something like this.
Dad: Sorry, I guess I should move on.
He waited a few moments to regain composure, wiping his tears away before speaking again.
Dad: Well, after that, we climbed out of the cave. We did not tell anyone of the exact location, because we wanted to respect the people who died up there a very long time ago. My point is, that there was something that scared this family so much they made the effort to climb to the cave and paint out what is their story. There are just too many coincidences for me to think that they just went in here for the sake of it and too many of those tall beings.
That is when I believed that, long ago, something roamed these lands with us. Not some upsized human who are like us, but a horror so savage it horrified the first settlers and forced them into hiding. Now, I asked myself where they went, besides they would’ve still walked amongst us. I was looking through the libraries and saw nothing. That is when until one day, when I stopped at a gas station somewhere in Rosetown. A Cree elder was taking a smoke and told me he had a story to tell me, out of the blue. It was a weird gesture, as he had no reason to talk to me anyway. Besides, why would a Cree elder tell a white man a story?
We sat on a bench and he told me this story his tribe passed around for a very long time. He told me that, in the beginning, his ancestors feared this monster known as the Witiko. Now, today it is known as the wendigo, a solitary monster that corrupts the human soul and forces them to partake in some horrific act, usually cannibalism of their family members. Once they do that, they turn into basically thin, pale corpses with antlers on their heads and have supernatural abilities. This version also has a knack for being always hungry, constantly looking for something to eat, a metaphor for greed in most of the tribes surrounding the area.
These wendigo, or Witiko, are different. They are not the corpse zombie monster thing that was once human, but rather giant, twisted beings that came from the underworld and invaded the overworld. They ate anything for the sake of greed and malice while tormenting life on the overworld for their pleasure. It got so bad some even took it upon themselves to take their own lives. One day, their good-old Creator decided to send out his best warrior, Wisakedjak. Wisakedjak saw what the Witiko were doing and devised a plan. He banded up all the tribes and went to war with them while luring them in the process. Most, if not all, of the Witiko, were where Wisakedjak wanted them to be. The Creator then split the earth, sending them back to the underworld to which they belonged. To ensure they won’t escape again, the Creator eventually sealed the entrance of which the Witiko fell in.
I was shocked at the story, and even asking where the entrance was, only he would tell me this is a secret and that he didn’t want anyone to look for it, in fear they might be released again. After meeting him, I tried to look for genuine proof of these giants, but all I have is a few photos and a story. That is when I thought about who would cover it up, steal the bones and hide them. I guess some of those crazy conspiracy theorists might be right about the Smithsonian Museum covering them up. So I might have to cover my tracks and finish what I started. This is the show, bye.
We sat in shock, looking at each other and realising our Dad might be a nut job.
Marv: Giants? Really? This whole time?
Me: Seems like it.
That is all I could mutter out, confused at what I saw.
Me: They might be connected to his disappearance…
Marv: Okay, how is this related to his disappearance? We still don’t know where he is. Besides, he seems to be a crazy person anyway, like, he listened to one story from a random man and instantly believed him?
Marv’s inner rage became noticeable and understandable, knowing that he saw Dad as a person who cared for him through the hardest of times and now he felt like he was betrayed, like Dad went missing all over again. He eventually went to a wall and slumped against it, eventually sitting on the ground, legs carelessly splayed out and head looking down.
I felt the same way, but I was contained. I felt really sorry for him, though. I took that moment to sit beside him and hug him.
Me: It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.
He then started to cry, giving me some urge to shed my tears. I began to think about my father. He left us, lying that he was going to Ontario and disappeared, only to find out he was secretly some conspiracy theorist who was chasing what seemed to be thin air. At the same time, he was a caring father, who cared about us, taught us and tried to be with us at the biggest moments of our lives. I then stared at the video recorder at the counter.
Me: Hey, should we take a look in the recorder? See what we could find?
He then looked up at me, looking at me in seriousness.
Marv: I guess, we are in this rabbit hole now.
He then took the dead recorder, took the memory card out and plugged it into his adaptor, plugged into the PC. The files showed up and there were multiple recordings. I was staring at the dates, only to realise that the final of these recordings was on May 8th, 2018. Marv then clicked on the recording.
At first, we were in a vibrant, evergreen forest, casting shadows upon the pine needle floor under an afternoon sun. The sounds of birds chirping dominated the soundscape until we heard a nudge, assuming the camera moved. We then saw Dad walk in front of the camera and stand there, he seemed to be nervous.
Dad: Hey all, I am at the cave, where I was when I was twelve. Took a bit of time to find it, but here we are, at the Childhood Cave. Now, John couldn’t come because his wife is having their child, which I understand. So, that is why I am here alone. Not a worry, I’ve been caving for most of my life, so this is nothing new.
He then came to pick up the recorder to show around the site. I can see the rope wrapped around a tree that descends into this hole. I can describe it as being similar to a well, except flat, stoney protrusions stick out of the walls like platforms, with the center being pure black.
Dad: Well, this is the first time entering the system. I hope to find anything down there.
He then buckled up his gear, making sure the rope was tight and the gear was in working order. He then walked over to the hole, recorder in hand, only to kneel to put the camera on the first platform.
Dad: Well, here we go.
He then began climbing down, feet first, holding onto whatever rock he could grasp, grunting as he went. As soon as he was at chest height on the first platform, he reached towards the camera. He suddenly disappeared into the hole, faster than the blink of an eye. One moment, he was there, then another moment he wasn’t. At that point, I was shaking and felt weak, but my brother sat still, like a stone, waiting for something else to happen. All that I heard afterwards was silent, very long and antagonizing silence until the camera ran out of battery, turning the screen black.

Hey, been writing this for a while. Got a dozen chapters at the moment. All of whom are interviews from veterans after a global war between humanity and aliens.
The premise is that after a short conflict/flashpoint between NATO and Russia in the baltics, that region becomes incredibly militarized as both sides pile up army units preparing for an inevitable conflict in the near future. Then you have meteors hitting Lithuania and Latvia. Which turns out were carrying an unknown Alien race which attempted to desperately colonize earth after their home planet was rendered inhabitable.
This is but one of the chapters. Fyi when they refer to crabs, they are talking about the alien cannon fodder units, 1 to 3m tall bipedal beings that have the face of crustaceans.
Feel free to give me any criticism you'd like. This is just a taste of what I'm working, if people are interested I will share more.

November 2034, Gdansk. European Federation

Pzschemek courteously welcomes me into his apartment, gently balancing his half-asleep young boy in one arm as he opens the door. The 34th floor of this public housing tower was completed just a year ago. As a combat veteran, the governement paid half of the price on the already affordable apartment. Since the official end of hostilities and the remarkable population surge, these towering structures, inspired by their Asian counterpart, have sprouted in nearly every remaining major city across the continent. Having seen combat from the start all the way to the end, I was referred to him by the head of the Polish Army Land Forces who was his battalion commander during the start of the war.
I'm offered a seat on the living room sofa, amidst scattered toys and clothes strewn about. He settles across from me, his son peacefully asleep in his arms, after preparing coffee for us.
A veteran of the war, he had seen combat all across Poland as a tank commander.

"When I began my training, we operated with the PT-91, an upgraded Soviet-designed T-72—sturdy, but we viewed them as deathtraps. Just imagine our optimism when my battalion received our first Leopards 2a7. Transitioning from a 1980s Soviet tank to modern german, American and ever Korean tanks—before the war in Ukraine, even entertaining such a notion aloud would have warranted a psychological evaluation. After a year or so. I knew that thing inside and out. It had short comings but it was a beauty.

He points to a frame on the wall—a cutout of a newspaper front page. It depicts him and his other crew members atop their tank ‘Sokoly’ written on its cannon, with a destroyed tripod lying on the floor behind them, the backdrop a sight of a ravaged city. With the title; “Our boys took Vilnius!"
"We made the front page of Gazeta Wyborcza with that picture. Our company commander sent it in. My parents hadn't heard from me in weeks, and one day, he recognized me on the front page at a news stand."
His face lights up with a warm smile.
"We hit the road five hours after the first landings. My vehicle was still getting fueled when I drove into our base, rushing to the briefing room in my jeans and rain jacket. I was expecting orders to be to rush to the Belarusian border or help out our guys in Lithuania to fend of the russians. Instead, our company commander starts talking about visitors from another world, how the info keeps pouring in every minute, but everything's still up in the air. We didn’t believe him until we saw the footage of the meteor landings, or air force footage from the airstrikes on beings we didn’t even know could exist. That one footage from that tank station, those crabs walking in and shooting all those civilians really set us off. That segment where one crab ripped out the arm of a dead man to make sure he was dead must have filled us with hate. Even do we didn’t know who or what they were. We didn’t ask too many questions. You’d expect us to yell out stuff in the likes of “Have we tried to make contact with them? What is the United Nations saying? From what planet are they?” but the only questions that could be heard was “Did the 2-5 tank get its tracks fixed? How much water should we take? Do we get our shells here or the TAA?”
“We were scared don’t get me wrong but I’m still proud of my boys, Its been a while but we still have contact with each other. Last summer I was the best man at my loader’s wedding.”
After laying down his boy, who had just woken up, he watches as the little one instantly grabs a toy police car and starts playing with it. Pzshemek gazes at his son, lost in thought, as he happily engages with his toy.

"We spent five hours on the road, with our tanks hitched onto trucks. When we finally reached our deployment area, chaos was everywhere. The roads were packed with cars from the north—Polish, Lithuanian, even Russian and Belarussian plates. People crammed into buses, I even saw a truck with an empty container but packed with civilians inside. On one van, boys sat on top, like scenes from trains in India. It's a miracle we only arrived an hour late. In Suwalki, we turned an Ikea parking lot into a makeshift FOB. Half of it was filled with troops fresh back from Lithuania and the border. Fresh might not be the right word. They were ravaged, they sat in silences. Nearly all with bandages or injuries of some sorts. The heavily wounded were being treated in tents and civilian ambulances. The dead layed in rows and rows of bodybags. They had commandeered one of or trench building vehicles to dig a mass grave for them. Helicopters landed, unloaded countless men and they loaded the helis to the brim with the injured. Tents and tents of make shift hospitals. More and more troops arrived. They looked like they’ve been to hell. I remember at one time my gaze met one of the men. I was looking around until I saw him looking at me. He was sitting on a stretcher being treated by a paramedic, his chest and arms were burned black. He was staring at me. I don’t know if it was the morphine or the shock, his gaze wouldn’t leave me. Fighter jets kept buzzing us. On our way to bomb targets and to slow the advance of the crabs down as much as they could. I was confident on our way there but the sight of all those defeated man made me want to empty my guts. We got called to a tent to get a briefing on the situation. There was a white board with grainy pictures of what we could expect. Even drawings. It was the Polish military attaché to Lithuania himself who gave the briefing to us. He looked like he had been to hell. I learned later he had to be restrained with the help of punches and shoved into the last helicopter out of Vilnius by his men.”
“What did he discuss?”
"We're in the dark, and we're counting on you to keep us informed as you hold the line. My English doesn't do it justice, but that was the last thing he said before we set out. We knew more different type of enemy assets would emerge as they settled in. Turns out, our drones spotted them digging into the meteors they landed in. As we left the FOB, they were loading everything onto anything with a motor and wheels. They didn't anticipate us holding our ground. Now, that's what I call motivation.”
Our chat got interrupted when Pszemek's wife walking into the apartment, decked out in nurse scrubs and juggling grocery bags. Pszemek jumped up to help her out, and they headed to the hallway, chatting away in Polish. Before she disappeared into the dimly lit bedroom, they stole a quick kiss.
“She has the night shift.” He said coldly as he put away the groceries. “We got on our tanks, our entire company made it and we were lined up platoon by platoon.
I closed the hatch, sat down, put my helmet on. My loader who also was my assistant of sorts. Installed the radios, helped copy the maps our lieutenant got, made coffee or passed drinks. He gave me a thumbs up, it was our signal and it meant we had radio communications with everyone that mattered. I pressed the push to talk of my microphone. “Everyone in position? Sound off!” I tried to say firmly and calmly. I knew back then it wasn’t the time to show any fear to my boys.
“Driver ready!” One voice yelled loudly. “Gunner ready!” followed by “Loader ready!” we set off right after that
At Suwalki we had to hold the highway entering the city from the north. Nothing particular, just fields and roads. We would have excelled there if we faced anything other than that. As dawn broke. The air strikes and artillery lured closer and closer. Along with our reconnaissance elements on the radio notifying us every time they got one kilometer closer. We could just sit there, it took us five minutes to mark and call out points of interests in that field so that we could communicate quickly during the battle and then we counted down the kilometers between us and them. Some men smoked, wrote letters. My gunner, a young guy he must have been 19 back then. He opened the hatch suddenly to vomit outside. Our nerves were all over the place. We nearly shot our recon troops as they speeded through our lines. They rushed through us and took cover behind us. They had done their job warning us and coordinating airstrikes. I told my boys it was our moment to shine. That whatever may walk,run,crawl over the border that we were the Polish anvil set on stopping them. We sat at two kilometers from the first woodline. We had infantry in the woods to our west and east. We had the open fields. We had to stop them or win time for the folks in Suwalki. But this wasn’t Lithuania, Latvia or Estonia. This was Poland. We wouldn’t give them an inch. We all grew up listening to our grandparents talking about what the Nazis and Soviets did to them and to our country.
At first, it was lone crabs on that wood line. They moved from tree to tree. We could see their silhouettes on the thermal sights. As more of those crab joined them we didn’t bother to shoot. We called in the mortar platoon to take care of them. Even after the mortars landed and took care of the first ones, their numbers grew. Then when there mobs of them we called in the 155mm artillery. It turned that forest. We felt the shockwaves as it blasted them. Trees were shredded and their pieces sent hundreds of meter away. Then we heard the first rumble of the beetles. I still have no idea why they didn’t appear on my thermals with all the heat they were carrying inside. If it wasn’t for the dawn and the reflection of the moonlight I might not have seen it until it was on top of me. Those things were as big as an apartment block. I still can't wrap my head around how those beasts survived a journey across galaxies. Must be why they were so darn hard to kill. We had no idea how they fought, how fast they could move. We called them beetles because it was the only thing earth like we could remotely compare them to in shape. I felt my heart race when I switched to normal sight and saw one of them move. I was looking right at it yet it appeared black as the solid on my thermal heat sight. There must have been six of them pushing that field alone. Against twelve of our tanks and three platoon’s worth of infantrymen and IFVs, you'd think we could've held them. But when they carpet-bombed us with fire, everyone lost it. Those beasts opened their mouth as their throat expanded, the fire inside of that could hurt to look at if you watched it with the naked eye. We didn’t know what to expect, but them spitting magma on us wasn’t on our bingo list so to say. Sure, they were two hundred meters short, but everyone outside of tanks must've felt the heat. They fired what could only be described as ropes of magma all in unison. The infantry platoon beside us, even the most ‘gung ho’ grunts who had had time to dig trenches, said ‘fuck that’ did a 180 and sprinted back a few hundred meters. Our platoon commander was swearing up a storm on the radio, trying to get their commander to get his men in order. Can't blame them. We opened fire right after their attempt to cremate us. I told my gunner to aim for the head and fire. Even with the shock of the 122mm armor-piercing shell hitting it, the thing just staggered and kept moving. Even in the tank, with all that armor and my ear protection, I could still hear my colleagues unloading on them. Again and again I ordered my gunner to go for the head. I still don’t know how they survived the kinetic shock alone of a shell like that hitting them. Later on in the war we learned that it gave them those weird types of concussions that made them act all weird, made them even attack their own side and such. But at the time, you can imagine me sitting there looking at them eating a tank shell like it was nothing. One shell hit its upper back. We saw the shell ricochet of its back and fly god knows where in the horizon behind it. My loader was grabbing shells and loading them in the breech at a rythm he could have gotten a medal for that alone. They were getting closer. The beetles and the crabs moving in with them. They spit fire again in unison. This time they were right on the mark. I heard the commander of the tank on my left yell in the radio as his tank ate hot magma. They were safe for now on the inside but the panic it instilled, there was nothing like it. Keep in mind, we still had 155mm artillery landing, it didn’t seem to be bothered by it even do the crabs next to those things were turned into moshed potatoes by the shrapnel and shock blast.
Pszemek got up suddenly to move his kid away from the kitchen as he tried to grab a hold of the hot coffee pot.
“little devil” he said silently.
“When I realized we couldn’t pierce it from the front I ordered by gunner to go for its knee caps. He didn’t hesitate and put its sight on it. The beetle was moving slowly enough for him to aim. My loader, exhausted from carrying shell after shell yelled out “GOTOWY” with a blood curling yell right before my gunner pulled the trigger on the joystick. The ignition on the shell shook the tank as it always did. It’s like a giant punch that makes the whole vehicle jolt backward violently. You can feel the force ripple through the tank, and everything inside shakes for a moment before it steadies again thanks to the suspension. The shell hit it right on the mark. The beast lost its footing. It crashed face-down, crushing a few crabs beneath it who were taking cover under it. It took a few moments for the creature to rise on another leg. Sharp as a fox, my gunner aimed for the first leg on the opposite side and fired another armor piercing shell through the meaty split between its strong carapace. The devil was down. With its front legs disabled, it had no balance. Instinctively, I grabbed the radio. The radio was buzzing with "NO EFFECT ON THE TARGET" and "LIEUTENANT, LET'S GET OUTTA HERE, FOR GOD'S SAKE." I shouted at my colleagues to aim for the kneecaps to slow them down. It got everyone to shut up and focus at the task at hand.



One by one, the beetles crashed in the mud. Don’t get me wrong, they kept shooting their magma at us. My tank got some aswell. It cooked our thermal sights and lazer warning receivers instantly. But since our engine was spared we just had to reverse back twenty meters and we were alright. We were speeding at 30km/h in reverse, I was praying there wouldn’t be a confused 20 year old infantry man end up under our tracks. The beetles were everything but precise. They even hit their own crabs as they desperately spat fire. The amount of which was drastically lower than earlier, their fuel tank just like ours were running low. One brave bastard on the radio yelled out for us to wait for it to fire and then hit it right in the mouth. That’s literally a tactic out of a video game. We did as he told. My gunner was with his sight right on what can be described as its mouth. His knee shaked in anticipation of the shot. I was looking at the gunner sight through my screen. As it opened its mouth, I didn’t even have time to yell “FIRE” that my gunner had already unleashed a high explosive shell down that thing’s throat.”
Pszemek looked at his boy with a warm smile as he thought back at one of the few good events of that fateful night.
“The devil exploded, the flash was so bright it lit up the interior of our tank through the periscopes. For a second I could see the exhausted look on my loader sweaty face. The fire gulf must have taken out god knows how many of the crabs taking shelter near it. My entire platoon followed suit and before long the entire field lit up with the explosions of those devils. I heard later from the folks in Suwalki that they saw the flashes of light all the way back there. One by one we took them out like that.
With the beetles out of the picture, we made quick work of the crabs. They were only five hundred meters away, close enough to start firing. Against our tanks, they didn’t stand a chance. The infantry was less fortunate. I saw one of them fire one of their shoulder mounted cannon, hit an IFV on its side and afterwards I saw the crew throwing themselves out of their vehicle as they burned alive. We took out three-quarters of them before they scrambled back across the field the way they came. Then we picked them off as they ran. Our coaxial gun was working overtime, we barely could keep up reloading that machine gun. I was praying it would’nt jam or overheat. With the last one down and our lieutenant on the radio, praising our performance, I unlocked my hatch, swung it open, and peeked outside. There were still patches of molten magma here and there, and the whole field reeked of sulfur and gunpowder. People were treating the wounded, some men cried, some men were laughing hysterically. Most of them were quiet. I lit up a cigarette, wiping the sweat off my face with a towel. The loader tossed me a can of Monster from our makeshift fridge. I gave him props for his work before he collapsed from exhaustion.

We could have stayed there, all of us would have been happy dying in that field if it meant we slowed their advance into our country. Turns out high command had other plans for us. We held but the units on our flanks were about to break. They had already plans for if ww3 popped off. They already know which unit would be desimated and which would have been spared if the Russians had decided to attack. The worst case scenario had a defensive line from Gdansk through Olsztyn all the way to Bialystok. We had the momentum as we cowardly fled back to Augustow. Stopping time and time again to give time for refugees to flee south. We were glad the Russians in Kaliningrad took a beating. They estimated they held ¾ of the crabs in the southern front. Every fight was harder than the last. We had less and less ammo. Jets were flying less and less. Especially when the crabs found a way to shoot them off the sky.
We felt like cowards every time. Sure we got allot of civilians safe, but even then we felt like we failed despite how many Crabs, Tripods or beetles we stopped.

PCPartPicker Part List

Type	Item	Price
CPU	AMD Ryzen 5 7600 3.8 GHz 6-Core Processor	$188.99 @ Amazon
CPU Cooler	Thermalright Assassin Spirit 120 EVO DARK 70.4 CFM CPU Cooler	$20.59 @ Amazon
Motherboard	MSI PRO B650-S WIFI ATX AM5 Motherboard	$139.99 @ MSI
Memory	TEAMGROUP T-Create Expert 32 GB (2 x 16 GB) DDR5-6000 CL30 Memory	$97.99 @ Amazon
Storage	Western Digital Blue SN580 2 TB M.2-2280 PCIe 4.0 X4 NVME Solid State Drive	$119.99 @ Amazon
Video Card	Sapphire PULSE Radeon RX 7800 XT 16 GB Video Card	$519.99 @ Amazon
Case	Lian Li LANCOOL 216 ATX Mid Tower Case	$86.99 @ B&H
Power Supply	Corsair RM850x (2021) 850 W 80+ Gold Certified Fully Modular ATX Power Supply	$149.99 @ Amazon
Monitor	Dell G2724D 27.0" 2560 x 1440 165 Hz Monitor	$199.99 @ Dell Technologies
	Prices include shipping, taxes, rebates, and discounts
	Total	$1524.51
	Generated by PCPartPicker 2024-05-20 10:41 EDT-0400

Hi everyone. After initially building my PC, it successfully booted up and I was able to get to bios. I tried to update my bios using M-Flash and a USB but I ran into some issues. Now, my PC won't even POST, and the LED lights show red/yellow. All of the fans turn on, but there's no display output (I've tried HDMI to both GPU and to mobo), and there's no way for me even get to the bios.
I've tried clearing CMOS (taking battery out + using screwdriver to short the pins), re-trying the Flash Bios button with a USB (goes on forever so I've been shutting down after 15~minutes, taking out the GPU/SSD and switching/replacing/removing the RAM sticks.
The last step I can see would be to remove my CPU/cooler to see if I messed up any of the pins. Honestly I have no idea if it's faulty parts or there was user error during the build. Don't understand why it initially posted but now it's dead. Any help would be greatly appreciated, thanks.

(Chapter 5)
Ruby opened up the battle log and was beset by wave upon wave of despair. Page upon page of damages were laid out in front of her. Best she could tell, Jason had entered this world with a frankly disgusting number of items squirreled away in various pocket dimensions. Not that it had mattered, whatever strange rules this world operated on meant that even displaced in time and space, Jason’s belongings had borne the same brunt of damage as his physical body.

Seven pages... Seven FULL pages... Seven full pages of size 5 font, single space; [item], [item], [item]... listings. That was how long the list of broken items ran. She wondered both how and why this man had spawned into existence with more mundane healing items in his possession, then most small nations had access too. She pondered deeply why he had chosen to bring enough weapons to arm every individual in a moderately sized country.

But it wasn’t the lost items that bothered her, it was the damage numbers to Jason’s body and soul that really made her want to vomit. Much like how this world had somehow managed to damage items that didn’t even exist within it. It had also somehow found a way to supercharge the [Ignore Pain] ability far and away beyond reasonable understanding. Over two hundred thousand, that was how much damage Jason had suffered from the fall. Everything was broken.

Damaging a soul is tricky work. Some forms of damage can hit a soul directly, others have next to no effect. Take psychic damage for example, it is very effective in damaging a soul; but is next to worthless when attempting to damage the body. The inverse to this would be Physical or Force damage, very effective against the body, but about as dangerous as a paper cut to the soul.

She checked the battle logs again; most of the recorded incoming damage was labeled as Physical or Force damage. A much smaller percentage being recorded as Elemental (Earth) damage. This didn’t make sense, even accounting for the massive influx of damage; Jason’s soul should have only suffered a tiny fraction of this damage. It still would have been enough to incapacitate the soul, but nowhere near enough to cause this level of destruction.

As she tried to puzzle out the mystery, she noticed something strange about the incoming damage. All the numbers came up with zero damage reduction. Thinking quickly, she checked Jason’s stat screen. Even in his current sorry state, the Divine Protections were still active, preventing 90%+ of all incoming damage.

“System?” P.U.L.L. asked.



“So according to the data I can see, Jason still had his Divine Protections active before his death. Such protections should have negated the Force, and Elemental damage. So why is his body somewhere between soup and a fine mist?”





Self-damage? Why would the system assume that Jason had caused damage to himself? P.U.L.L. pondered that for a moment, and then it struck her... [Ignore Pain]’s effect. The banked damage would not be negated by the Protections. She quickly pulled up the ability, perhaps if she better understood the skill, she could better understand the problem she was trying to fix.

The skill was rather simplistic in nature. “[Ignore Pain] absorbs 45% of all incoming damage, then banks that damage. Banked damage is applied to the user as a bleed over time effect over the next minute.” So far all pretty basic. Damage comes in, the skill activates, user now has an additional minute to cast spells or consume potions to offset the remaining damage. “Bleed will pulse once every 6 seconds, dealing 1/10th of the banked damage as True damage.” And there it was; True damage also known as Pure damage, was a unique form of damage that specifically cut through all forms of defense/resistances/ or even immunities.

Looking over at the mana pool, P.U.L.L. is not too happy to see that it’s already dropped 15% since she fed it last. Letting out a long groan, she looks at the train wreck in front of her, then looks back to the mana pool, once more to the problem, and finally back to the remaining mana

“FUCK” The word comes out as little more than a whisper.

Realizing that there is zero chance that she will complete the monumental task before the mana pool runs dry. She decides to dedicate her current remaining time to setting up an automated system that will convert Jason’s remaining resources into pure mana. Instead of having to go through a personally disenchant each item. It takes her ten percent of the mana pool to code the system. Another five percent is spent on building the system’s priority list. The remaining time she spends trying to streamline the process and milk every drop of extra essence from the liquidated resources. It took a lot longer than she would have liked, but she did manage to wring an additional 14% efficiency out of the process.

With only two percent of the pool remaining, she goes ahead and throws ALL of the mundane items she can still access, into the recycling engine. The return on investment would be comical if it wasn’t so sad. Five percent, enough weapons to arm tens if not hundreds of thousands, even turned to slag as they were; the raw resources they represented amounted to literal drop in the bucket. The silver lining, at least the storage spaces, had been worth something. Once the last one was fully rendered down, P.U.L.L. had managed to scrap up an additional 37% of the total mana pool.

With a healthy chunk of mana to play with, P.U.L.L. began the arduous task of collecting the splintered fragments of Jason’s soul. Even with magically enhanced vision, the process was laborious to say the least. A needle in the haystack would have been less trouble to find than some of the pieces within the crater. Several hours, and a couple Satchel of Storage full of magical armaments, later; she finally had all the pieces accounted for. Now all she had to do was fit them together, and who didn’t enjoy a good old fashion 1000-piece puzzle; with no image to reference. A 1000-piece puzzle that could have unforeseeable consequences if she messed up the positioning of even a single piece.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Her eyes feel like they are bleeding, but she finally fits the last piece into. She gives the soul a once over, trying to make sure that nothing looks too out of place. The edges are a little bumpier than she would have liked, and she’s still not 10,000% of if that one jagged pentagon shaped piece should be where it is; but she can’t think of any other places where it would fit... She decides that it’s as good as she is reasonably going to get it and locks the pieces into place.

All she needs to do now is infuse the soul with enough mana to bind it back together. She eyes the mana pool; it’s hovering around 15.3%. That’s nowhere near enough for this task, so she looks at what items are left. The logs show only three Satchels remaining. While considerably more powerful than what she had liquidated at the start, the first pack was full of ‘normal’ magical items. The second seemed to be the collection of all the Artifact tier items that Jason had accrued over his many adventures. The final bag was where the system had consolidated all of Jason’s various magical cure-alls. Turns out one needs a body, to apply body healing magical items too. Further, the body needs to have a soul that can be bound to it. Well technically it doesn’t, but generally people don’t waste legendary mythical items to keep a rotting empty husk polished.

She ran a scan of the items, unfortunately the normal magic items didn’t quite produce enough raw mana for the task. So, they would be relegated to buying more time. The artifact bag though, now that had some heavy hitters. Even with the limited returns that liquidation offered, she was pretty sure she could reforge a soul without having to destroy more than a few sacred treasures.

“Hey, System”



“I’m going to have to deactivate the automated protocol I've been running up till now, to free up processing room for this. But according to the data I can see, I'm worried that Jason doesn’t have enough reserves to last him through the mending, much less long enough that I can queue up another liquidation.”






“Convenient, so I can just burn through a bunch of these, and you will store any excess?”



“Guess I'll have to work quickly then.”

Taking a deep breath, she deactivated the program before beginning a mass purge of the first satchel. From the artifact bag she selected the [Swords of Sun and Moon], [Icesorrow], [Nirvana], and [Guillotine of the Tyrant]. She had little doubt that her work would be met with anything less than anger at the lost of such treasures, but; she reassured herself that Jason would probably prefer to be alive and down a few priceless artifacts then dead with an overflowing cup of loot.

A brilliant light began to wash over the fractured puzzle that was Jason’s soul. Starting at the lower right-hand corner, she watched as a slow wave crept its way forward. Like a pool of liquid gold it spread, filling the cracks and gaps between. Pieces clicked together, before merging into an ever-growing framework. Further and further, it spread; as more and more pieces bound together, they began to lose their rigidity. No longer one among many, the pieces blend into a single moving flowing entity. The soul ungulates and pulses with life, each beat of its phantom heart pushing the edges of the binding magic just a little bit further, making the soul just that tiny bit more whole.

50% of the soul has become one... 60%... at 70% it begins to slow. But that’s fine, it's so close, just a little bit more. 75% and it’s at a snail's pace. Her exhilaration begins to turn to horror; the pool is Slowing.... Slowing... Stopped... Then it begins, the energy strains to push forward. Hairline cracks begin to form, with each pulse the cracks spread and deepen. The spell is coming part, why is it coming apart?!

She spares but the briefest of passing glances, and her heart damn near shatters then and there. 1%, Jason only has 1% of his mana left. She desperately tries to reach out, she just needs to pick one more item. But she can’t move, if she moves her momentum will cause the soul to fall in this critical moment. She is paralyzed, if she doesn’t move [Temporal Flux] will drain the last pip of mana and this will all have been for nothing. But if she moves and the soul breaks again, she doesn’t have the time or energy to try again. Tears stream down her face as she is frozen between two terrible choices.

The system chirps in a sicken sweet tone.

She watches as mana floods in, the light once more continues its plodding adventure to turn many broken shards into one complete being. The cracks reseal, disappearing as if they never existed. Time feels like it’s moving in slow motion as the first wisp of gold reaches the top of the framework. 90% and rising, 95% and everything but the top corner has become a single mass of squirming light. 99% and the soul is straining within its confines; it wants to be free. 100%, with a blinding flash the light swells then vanishes, the soul is once again whole.

*ping*- Soul has been repaired, 1 of 4 conditions for auto recall have been met. 3 of 4 conditions remain that prevent auto recall from activating.
< l l Next>

The Zoo - A NoSleep story
***
Full job description:
Immediate Opening!
Night shift zoo managesecurity. All-weather foot patrol opportunity for a “night-owl”, who enjoys working outdoors and with minimal supervision.
Under general direction of the manager of the zoo, the Security Guard patrols the zoo grounds on a regular basis throughout the shift. Responds in a timely and professional manner to a wide variety of routine and emergency situations.
Requirements: BA in wildlife, biology, etc, which provides the required knowledge, skills, and background for this position. Valid Florida Driver’s License with good driving record is desirable. First Aid and CPR certification preferred.
The qualified candidate has the ability to use independent judgment in handling routine as well as the capacity to perform under stress when confronted with an emergency, unusual, or dangerous situation. Ability to oversee animals’ well-being, monitor conditions, create enrichment activities, and exercise safety precautions.
The Security Guard must be able to walk and remain on feet a full shift (up to 8 hours), and potentially up to 12 hours at a time. Must be able to exert a minimum of 50 pounds of force and able to lift, push or pull, or otherwise move objects that may exceed 50 lbs. Ability to negotiate all areas of the zoo in all weather conditions.
Note: Zoo is haunted.
***
I’ll start with the job posting, I guess. I spotted it on Indeed while making my daily check for anything and everything that would hire someone with my biology degree, and it seemed on the up and up. Their website looked decent, the guy on the phone sounded nice, and I was looking for anything even slightly related to working with wildlife. Being a night shift guard at a zoo was fine, especially when I took the incredibly generous rate of $25/hr. into account. That’s eleven bucks more than my dad makes at the local grocer, and he’s been working there for thirteen years. Then again, from the P.S. on the posting, I thought there might be good reason for the rate.
It said at the end, almost as an afterthought, ‘Zoo is haunted.’
When it comes to ghosts, they’ve never made much sense to me. Considering how badly our brains function from just getting jostled around on a football field, I’m not sure how ghosts could exist without a brain at all. I’d be excited as the next person to find proof, but YouTube videos are always fishy and the people on TV are essentially actors who only focus on the entertainment factor for their ratings. So, since I’d never seen anything that vaguely resembled a ghost, I’d say binge-watching Supernatural on Netflix last year was the extent of my experience in that department.
It seemed that the zoo hadn’t been here for long since it wasn’t even on Google Maps yet. There was a bit of a commute, it was half an hour away, but since I’d worked local jobs while I attended college online for the past four years, I’d saved up the money to buy a car. It wasn’t anything fancy, just an old Nissan sedan that I’d bought from someone in the next town over, with faded red paint and a mismatched back right door painted blue. It accomplished the job of transportation, though, which let me search the job market further away, a good thing considering how small a town I lived in. I really didn’t want to leave home yet, so moving for a job in a city or another state wasn’t an appealing option.
The website said very little. It had yet to fill in drop down menus that would excitedly describe their attractions. So far it only had some small sections about conservation and education, though that was intriguing because it mentioned that all the animals they had were endangered. I read that notation and wondered what the animals were. Mammals were always favorites of mine, which I know is a bit of a cliché, loving the furry ones. But when it comes down to it, I’ll take any animal over a person.
The employee entrance to the zoo was a door in the large steel gate that surrounded the property, a few yards down from the sliding gate that presumably opened to let visitors in. I pressed the button on a panel beside it, glancing up at the camera, and I was buzzed in. There was a short path that led to the building near the front and I knocked politely before going inside.
The interviewer, a plain metal nameplate on his desk describing him as Director of Security for the zoo, welcomed me in and sat on the other side of his desk, lounging back in his desk chair. His name was Andrew Higgs, and he had a British accent, which I thought was cool. I sat in one of the two loveseats in front of the desk.
Andrew was dressed business casual, with a blue Polo shirt, a thin black jacket, and I saw he was wearing slacks when he stood up to shake my hand. He was black, with dreadlocks that stopped just short of his shoulders, and a closely trimmed mustache. There was a tattoo, an artistic rendition of a hippo, on the right side of his neck, which bode well in my opinion. So many places hiring these days were overly uptight about their employees’ appearance, but it seemed that wouldn’t be the case here.
We went over the basics before he picked up the piece of paper off his desk, my resume, which he’d printed out. “Well, I spoke to all three of your references,” Andrew noted. “They had some good things to say. You were a great employee on the farm you worked last summer, your boss said. Punctual, hard-working, took instructions well…”
That was nice to hear. I’d spent this past summer working at a dairy farm, mostly assigned to the goats and cows they kept for milk. Aside from the staggering muscle pain that tapered from agony to merely miserable by the end of the summer, it wasn’t a bad job. I did have an old shoulder injury that I always had to work around, but it was my left shoulder and I was a righty, so it wasn’t that difficult to manage.
If anything, the muscle pain in my back and legs from being on my feet all day distracted from the typical issue I dealt with. My standard exercising day-to-day was typically either riding my bike or yoga, although yoga is mind-numbingly boring, so I need to listen to a podcast to pass the time. So, in fact, through the job, I was sort of grateful that my brain was focusing on a different area of my body that was in pain. Yeah, chronic pain is weird.
“He also said you don’t work well with others,” Andrew added, glancing up to me. “You kept submitting complaints about incompetent coworkers?”
I pursed my lips and let out a long breath through my nose, considering the most delicate way I was capable of replying to that before saying, “I dislike stupid people.”
Andrew gave me a half-smile and sighed, replying, “Well, I must confess I’m not fond of them either.” He looked back down to the paper. “This job will be a great fit for you.”
The job interview seemed like a formality, and I don’t know why. I was twenty-three and the ink had barely dried on my degree from the online college I’d attended. I’d been applying to jobs for months and had been thrilled when I’d gotten a call for an interview for this one, but also surprised. Call me a cynic, but I expected more invasive questions about any past work I’d done for a job in security, since I was a woman.
It's not like I was petite. Actually, the most common word I’d heard to describe me is ‘built’, and I fall short of being labeled overweight only because of muscle mass. One comment I recall from high school was being teased for being shaped like a rectangle. Even so, there was no good reason to look a gift horse in the mouth, but of course, me being me, that meant I examined its teeth closely.
“So, you’re hiring me? Just like that? Why?”
Andrew, chuckled. “Look, you’ve got BA in wildlife biology, and specializing in animal behavior is just the cherry on the sundae. That tells me you know animals are not people, and even if you feel like you know them, they can still be unpredictable. They can hurt you. But also, it makes me know you care.”
I suppose that did make sense, and it was true, so I’m glad he knew that. Most of my job on the night shift would be watching cameras and then walking around the place to make sure all the animals were as they should be, but it was more than that. Working at a zoo meant knowing where the line was, and sometimes it wasn’t exactly at the fence, but sometimes just putting a single finger through that fence meant losing that finger. As a whole, humans are generally idiots. Looking at you, anyone who really, honestly thinks that a bobcat would sense your boundless love enough to let you pat it.
“The website didn’t have much about the animals,” I said. “I know this place is new, so you might not have info on them up on the site yet. Do you have a map for me?”
“Oh, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Andrew said with a wave of his hand. At that point, it had seemed to be a reasonable thing for him to say, but I will tell you, the reason was not what I thought. “Just to confirm, you’re not an early bird, Miss Mason? This schedule isn’t a concern?”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m pretty talented at sleeping in, actually. I never really got past that teenage talent of staying up until five and sleeping in until three. And you can just call me Ripley.”
That made him smile. “Good. Then I won’t worry about you falling asleep on the job, Ripley.”
“Oh, no way.”
“All right. So. You saw the note at the end of the job posting?”
He just stared at me and I was forced to answer, “That the zoo is haunted.”
“Right. What are your thoughts on that?”
There was no easy answer to that question, especially depending on how seriously he took it. “Do you know the best word the Brits gave to us?”
“What’s that?”
“Bollocks.”
Andrew slowly smiled and pointed at me with the end of the pen in his hand. “I think I’m going to like you,” he remarked. “Look…this is the part of the interview where we switch gears. If this was a regular zoo, you’d be a shoo-in for the job. But we’ve got other boxes to check. This outfit is…basically a preservation society. As you saw on the site, all the species are endangered, but what it didn’t say online is that the only people who came to visit are private parties.”
“So, that means…what?” I asked. “You bring in super-rich people who feel special when they get to see the animals you’re rehabilitating and taking care of? Then they donate oodles of money so they can brag to their rich friends about their charity contributions and having seen the animals here?”
Andrew raised his eyebrows. “Pretty much got it in one. It’s just more preservation and less rehabilitation. And a lot of our patrons really do care about the animals, or else they would just donate and not visit. You’ll see tourists a couple times a week, but we decided not to have anyone until we’re settled in here, and that means a person who’s on during the night shift that I can count on. And I don’t know if I can count on you yet.”
“Wait, I’ll see the tourists?” I asked. “They visit at night?”
“Everything we have is nocturnal,” he told me. That struck me as odd, but he continued before I could question it. “Listen up, and I’ll start with the basics. Have you ever seen anything weird? Possibly supernatural?”
“Nope,” I said with a shrug.
The fact is, I got along with my classmates, but I never did have any close friends. So, I thought maybe that’s why I missed out on all those reckless teen moments that started every horror movie. Maybe it left me without a bunch of exciting stories to tell. But hey, at least I didn’t break my leg falling through the floor of an abandoned building in eleventh grade.
Yes, that happened. It was a classmate of mine by the name of Brent. And yes, he’s just as much of a moron as you would imagine.
“If you see the ghost here,” he said, his tone emphatic, “will you freak out?”
I paused. “You’ve seen the ghost?”
“All the time,” Andrew told me. “It’s a young woman in a blue shirt and tan slacks, looks like she just walked out of a lake.”
“Do you have a picture?”
“No, and absolutely no photos or video are to be taken of her,” he said, his tone abruptly turning stern. “It’s cause for immediate dismissal. We have video cameras for security, but they all record off-site in a secure location, and Suzanne Cooper, the owner, manages it herself. Firstly, the ghost deserves privacy rather than exploitation, she’s not to be displayed like one of our animals, but secondly, people believe in ghosts. One leaked photo of her connecting it to us means we get overrun by ghost hunters, and if we trace it back to you, you’re done.”
Andrew seemed next-level serious about that, so I nodded. “Understood. That makes sense.”
The animals were the priority after all, I knew. I preferred them over people anyway, and that included dead people. Even if I could get a video of this ghost doing cartwheels back and forth through a wall, I would never post it and spread word of where I’d taken it. Andrew was right; the zoo would never get the paranormally-obsessed to stay away and would definitely have to relocate.
He continued, “If you’re curious, she’s never so much as tried to hurt anyone. But the zoo has moved before, and she moved with us.”
“She moved with you?” I asked, my eyebrows rising. “Is it like one of those stories where she’s attached to something in the zoo rather than a place?”
“More complicated than that,” he said. Then he grimaced. “She died because she was too ambitious with one of our animals. It never should have happened, but she… She was foolish, you’d say. Attempted to interact with one of the animals, got too close, and honestly, she should have known better. I thought she did.”
“Holy shit,” I whispered. “What killed her?”
He stared at his hands and shook his head. “It was before my time.”
It was clear Andrew was a true believer, but I still really wasn’t sure at that point. How was I supposed to react, though? Zoos have fences and tall barriers for a good reason. Not just to keep the animals away from us, but also the other way around, and ‘death by stupidity’ is not uncommon amongst humans. So, the story wasn’t outrageous, but still, I’d never so much as experienced something unexplainable. But if I saw a ghost, I suppose that’d be that.
“I just need to know, plain and simple, if you’re the kind of person who can handle things that are terrifying,” Andrew told me, splaying his hands. “Our last night shift bloke there was with us for years and years, but we spent months going through other employees. There were six we tried before we found him.”
“Six?” I exclaimed.
He snorted. “Yes, six. Let’s see…” Andrew counted off each one on his fingers. “The first two, the first night they saw the ghost, they lost it. One called me in a panic, babbling, and I had to get out of bed and drive to the zoo to send him home, and the second quit, although at least she made it to the next morning and didn’t drag me out here,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “They just thought I was blowing smoke up their bums with the whole thing.”
He shrugged. “Then, the third one was a bloke who was asleep when I got there in the morning, so I had to fire him. Then another ghost freak-out. The fifth bloke was someone who couldn’t deal with the animals, and then the sixth was so scared of the ghost that when I got here, he was already outside the zoo, pacing, waiting for my car. Apparently he’d said some stuff, rude or mean or whatnot, to try to get her to leave him alone and she had followed him back into the security room, so he fled. I need the opposite of those folks. Alright?”
At this point, I was starting to take it more seriously. Sure, this could just be Andrew’s thing, that he believed in ghosts and then made up these sightings to ensure I believed him. But if I saw her? What would I do?
Well, this would be my job, so I would have to take it seriously. Maybe that was why the pay was so good, to make employees think twice before ditching it. From Andrew’s perspective, if it really was haunted, he was the one who had to deal with applicant after applicant quitting as soon as they laid eyes on the guest who would never leave.
“So…honestly, I can’t say I won’t freak out, considering how next level this is,” I told him, feeling compelled to go with honesty, “but yeah. I think I can handle it, mostly because it’s important for someone to look after this place, look after the animals, so I’d do my best to work around anything that freaks me out. I mean, I have to say that I’ll believe it when I see it. But if ghosts really exist, as long as it isn’t some serial killer who stuck around to keep gutting people, I’ve always thought it’d be cool to find out we can exist after we die.”
The thing is, I think I did believe him. I thought there might really be a ghost there, because otherwise, why take it so seriously? It could’ve been that Andrew had only glimpsed her out of the corner of his eye a few times and could ascribe it to lack of sleep, but he was literally worried about word getting out. I thought that being halfway to believing him would give me the mental preparation I needed if I saw her. At least, I’d hoped so.
It turned out that most of my time would be spent at the security desk in the main building, near the entrance. Real-time footage played through thirty-five cameras around the zoo, all on a large screen that was five cameras across and seven cameras top to bottom. The cameras were impressive. I would mention the resolution, say something about them being 4K, but Andrew explained some stuff about how it’s actually the lens that is the biggest selling point. Looking at these cameras on the giant screen, I could see practically every corner of the place, and if I brought up one camera in particular to encompass 2/3 of the screen, I could zoom in so far that it felt like I could use it to check if one of the animals had fleas.
The zoo was well lit, not surprising considering nighttime was apparently the zoo’s business hours, and all of the tall lamps had red bulbs. For those of you who know why, A+ to you. For those who don’t, fun fact, it’s because red is closest to the dark and your eyes don’t need to strain to adjust to it. That meant I didn’t need my flashlight all that often, and even that was red, a solid name-brand one that had been on my desk when I arrived. I kept the white lights on back in the security room, though, because I didn’t want to make my brain think it was time to get tired.
When I headed out for my first sweep on that first night, I had the folded map in my pocket, but I already knew my way around. The layout of the zoo wasn’t that difficult to memorize, since there were only eleven expansive enclosures, and after the interview I walked around for half an hour to start training my memory. I’ll admit, working in a dark environment was creepier than I thought it would be.
I do want to mention the high quality of the zoo. The size of each enclosure was considerable, and the greenery was natural, hinting that they’d hired a pricey professional just to do landscaping toward the front of the enclosures after buying the land. The backs of the enclosures backed up into forestry, and from the estimate I got from Andrew, it seemed each of the animals had plenty of roaming space, including the small lake at the northwest corner and a manmade lake for one of the animals in particular. When I considered all of that, the thought passed through my head about how horrible it would be if word got out about the zoo having a ghost and needing to relocate, because it’d be devastatingly expensive.
My orders were to walk the zoo once every hour. This was my first security gig, so I’m not sure if that’s more or less than typical, but I had my comfy hiking boots on, the ones I’d saved up for and invested in a couple years earlier and were perfect for a job where I had to do laps around an area. This job was one that I didn’t have to worry about my shoulder pain worsening, since it was mostly about being on my feet. I take one or two Vicodin a day, depending on how bad my pain is. It came in handy in high school, actually. With a flexible ‘take as needed’ prescription, I occasionally sold pills for extra cash.
There wasn’t much to step in and there weren’t even any dips in the concrete sidewalks that I followed around in a route that easily led me back and forth until I made my way back to the office. The first three nights were actually boring. I would have thought Andrew had been pranking me about the ghost, but like I said, it hadn’t felt like that. And he hadn’t been specific about when she showed up for new people, or even for him.
To keep myself busy, I’d brought my e-reader with me, and I got into a cycle of looking over each of the cameras every time I hit the end of a chapter. I’m a pretty fast reader, so it was a good system. Also, every once in a while, I looked up if something moving caught my eye, like an owl flying close enough for the camera to catch it, but that’s about it.
Then, every hour on the hour, I did a walk through. The fourth night, I was passing by the small lake at the back left corner of the property when I saw her.
People say that you can tell if someone’s staring at you, that there’s some sixth sense humans have. It’s not true; they’ve done experiments. But the thing is, all those experiments were of someone human looking at them. After this last shift, I would guess that the sixth sense that sends goosebumps down your arms, the one that makes you feel an intangible pressure, that slides your body toward fight or flight mode, might be true of…other things.
Slowly coming to a stop at the disturbing feeling, I hesitantly looked around, through the trees. Then my heart skipped a beat and my breath hitched. It was startling because she wasn’t moving. Just standing among the trees, staring at me. I broke out in a cold sweat as I stared back at her, unsure what to do. I didn’t run. I didn’t try to talk to her. I just stood there. So, there’s my answer to Andrew: I didn’t freak out. I just froze.
The woman was Latina, her skin tone pallid from death, and was dressed as he’d described her, in slacks and a silky blue blouse. And she was soaked, as if she’d just walked out of the lake. Beyond that, her shirt was drenched in blood from what looked like claw marks across her abdomen. Her eyes were dark and penetrating, boring holes into me, as if she were able to get any and all knowledge that she wanted about me simply by glaring. The fabric of her shirtsleeves clung to her skin and was dripping, as was her long black hair. Speaking of her hair, it appeared to have seaweed woven into it, or maybe she also grew seaweed along with hair. Not my area of expertise.
The look on her face was indescribable. There was something deep in her eyes, behind her closed-off expression, that made my heart beat rapidly. Maybe I would’ve projected some emotion into her face if I’d had any idea of what she was capable of, whether she could move objects, or possess me, or if all she did was hang around. As things stood, I was left just projecting my fears, which gave me the impression that she was cross with me simply for being present. It felt like I was trespassing, even though I was a dozen feet back from the fence that encircled the enclosure. And also, this was my job so I was explicitly allowed to be here.
She was disturbingly close, and remained unnaturally still. If she had attacked me, I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done. Ran, probably, but considering ghosts probably don’t follow the laws of physics, maybe she could’ve chased me at Usain Bolt speed. For all I knew, she could teleport.
After an amount of time that felt awkwardly long, I finally spoke up.
“Hi,” I croaked.
The woman slowly tilted her head but didn’t otherwise move. I’d forgotten to ask Andrew for her name, I realized, but he had mentioned her death had been before his time, so maybe he didn’t know.
Swallowing hard, I tried to take a slow, deep breath, even though it felt like there was a cinder block on my chest. “So, I, uh…I work here now,” I said slowly. “I’m night shift security.” Pausing, I kept trying to gather information from her demeanor but failed. “Is that okay?”
At that, I saw a hint of curiosity flash across her face. “Why would it not be?” Her voice sounded completely normal, which was an off-putting contrast to her appearance.
Good question. Hell if I know the answer. “I don’t know. I mean…you were here first. I don’t know if you feel like I’m…intruding…or something.”
“You’re just doing your job,” she said, her tone softening a smidge.
I waited to see if she wanted to say anything else before saying, “Right.” Can I get you anything? A towel? Some bandages? “I’ll be going now.”
The woman made no movement to come after me as I gradually took one step, then another, keeping her in my sights as I walked off. I finally had to turn to face forward, unable or unwilling to be seen by her foolishly walking away backwards. Instead of continuing my sweep, I took the path that would lead me back to the security room. I kept looking behind me and felt her eyes on me all the way back, though I didn’t see her following me. At that point, even if she hadn’t moved an inch, my brain was on red alert when it came to self-preservation and figured I would continue to feel like a wet hand might grab me from behind at any moment.
Finally, I returned to the security room, swiping my card across the panel at the back door with a beep. Opening the door, darting inside, and slamming it behind me, I walked to the far side of the room and turned around, putting my back to the wall. Until I’d gotten back, I hadn’t noticed how fast I’d been walking, how quickly I’d been gasping for air. Leaning back against the wall, my legs turned to jelly and I slowly slid to the floor.
And that was it. My first sighting of the ghost. I’d thought that if I had seen her, there would be some part of me that was skeptical, that would reason my way out of it, convinced it was a prank. But I knew. She wasn’t a person. At least, not anymore.

High Context
Expression takes many forms. In this book I have interpreted the word media in a broad sense and treated each form of expression that I have discussed as an independent medium. What, then, is the reason for the existence of multiple media like manga, anime, and film? Are these simply multiple forms for mediating the same reality? Not at all. Multiple media exist in order to support multiple fictions. We clearly perceive the form of a particular expression at the same time as we take in its content. The various media function as a kind of context, or a transparent and continuous totality that attaches meaning to content. In this instance the media themselves attain their own unique contextuality. For example, we are not in the least confused if a heroine who breaks down in tears in a television drama suddenly appears smiling in a commercial during the break. This is because it is very easy for us to shift instantaneously between the context of the drama and the commercial.
In an earlier work I referred to this idea of the unique contextuality of each medium as the “representation context,” in order to use it in a more limited sense. This is because it is possible to use the media form itself as a form of representation. As I explained in chapter 1, my use of the term context is based chiefly on a combination of the ideas of G. Bateson and E. T. Hall, which I Have also explained in greater detail elsewhere. For our purposes here, it is possible to understand the contexts contributing to expression as existing in hierarchical strata. In the case of manga, the first context level is that of the narrative that gives meaning to the characters’ actions. Above that is the genre of the narrative - the expressive context that determines whether it is to be taken seriously or as a gag. The representational context is one level above this. Or, if we order them from top down, the process by which we understand the content of a manga can be understood as a hierarchical series of stages beginning with the work’s representational context (manga), proceeding to its expressive context (genre), on to the narrative context, and finally to the comprehension of the content. Of course, in actual fact we have to admit that this sort of hierarchy is ultimately not valid. It goes without saying that content and context exist in a relationship based on simultaneous and mutual corroboration. Therefore I should emphasize that the notion of representation context serves only for convenience of description and is not in any sense an isolatable object.
It is possible, for example, to think of visual media in the order of their dependence on representational contextuality. Contextuality in this case refers to the degree to which the form of expression itself determines the context expressed. In order of descending contextuality, then, we have anime, manga, television, film, and photographs. The statement “I saw a photograph,” for example, conveys no meaning on its own. But the statement “I saw an anime” evokes a relatively concrete image in the listener’s mind. This is because the anime form restricts the range of content much more than does the photograph. In other words, anime has the highest level of contextuality and photography the lowest. Here I follow Hall in calling this the “high context” nature of anime. In general, we can say that more popular forms of expression tend to be higher context (as in the difference between classical and popular music). In visual media, the less information conveyed on the screen, the higher the context (this being the difference between television and film). Thus “cool” media (with low levels of detail) tend toward higher context.
Let us think more concretely about the high-context nature of anime and manga. We have already established that form and content are intricately connected in both. In the case of these expressive forms, we can easily makes guesses about the content and authorship even of works that we know nothing about. Even a single frame of the work will be enough to tell us the genre, the orientation of the content, and sometimes even the identity of the author. Moreover, the instantaneous switching between the “gag” and “serious” modes that would be unthinkable in film but forms part of the grammar of anime (its so-called yakusoku [conventions]) can be explained only on the basis of this high-context nature.
I think of high context as the sensibility that emerges when there is no sense of distance between the producer and the consumer of a given media form . Once we immerse ourselves in this high-context space, the meaning of all stimuli is grasped instantaneously. Inevitably, emotional codes are more easily transmitted here than verbal ones. This high-density transmissibility enables extremely high levels of concentration and absorption.
Intersubjective Mediation, or Media Theory
Based on what I have said above, we can identify the difference between film and anime or manga first in terms of contextuality.
Is this the place for us to move to a discussion of media theory? Is the desire for the beautiful fighting girls a sign of an internal transformation, an “implosion” and extension brought on by our contemporary media environment? In some senses this may be true, but in others it is certainly not.
The development of the media environment has in fact partly transformed the structure of our society. The development of the mass media industry itself is one manifestation of this transformation. Its influence on the economy and on education has, of course, been enormous. But to what extent does this transformation penetrate our inner worlds?
In clinical terms there has not been the slightest structural transformation. The structure of our neurotic subjectivity remains intact, just as Freud discovered it a century ago. If asked to prove this, most analysts would say that it is not their role to offer general proofs of anything. This, too, has not changed in a hundred years. Analysts can speak about the truth. But, or perhaps therefore, they cannot prove what is true. But, or perhaps therefore, they cannot prove what is true. To say that the structure of the subject is intact is to say that the structure of desire has been maintained. What needs to be emphasized here is that, in order for the structure of desire to be maintained, the object of desire must constantly change. If the object of our desire looks different than it did a hundred years ago, this is only a change in appearance that results from the continual maintenance that we as subjects have performed on the structure of that desire. Yes, the development of media has brought about an outward change, a superficial change in the objects of our desire.
From this we can derive at least two psychoanalytic hypotheses. If we use Lacan’s divisions, the stability of the subject denotes primarily the stability of the relationality between the Symbolic and the Real. Moreover, the internal transformation that Marshall McLuhan referred to as “implosion” can be considered mainly as having emerged as a change on the level of form in the Imaginary. Herein lies one of the thorniest difficulties of media theory. If voice and writing are themselves already forms of media, what exactly have modern media been able to add to the equation? The transformation of the subject in the Imaginary can always make it seem as if nothing has happened. As long as this is the case, the appearance of media theory will remain in the always-awaited future, and its conclusions will only continue to be deferred.
But perhaps there is something to be gained nonetheless by taking a detour here and considering the mutual operations of the media environment and the Imaginary. The development of media is clearly most striking in the visual realm. Already we are able in principle to see any sort of image whatsoever. If we so desire, we can also keep large numbers of images in our possession on a computer hard drive. There is no little significance in the fact that, as is so apparent in the case of the ever-increasing functionality of the personal computer, it has become very easy for us not just to preserve but to reproduce, manipulate, and transmit visual information about all sorts of experiences. Our imaginary has been dramatically expanded and accelerated by the media, or extended through “implosion.”
The diversification of methods of mediation has had a number of effects. One of these is the potential impoverishment of content and form. As was clear in the case of the beautiful fighting girls, the narratives in a diversified media environment are surprisingly similar to each other. As I pointed out in chapter 5, there are hundreds of examples of the beautiful fighting girl genre, but only thirteen story lines. From the 1990s on, no new story lines emerged, and new works were simply rearrangements of old ones. In this case at least, we can say that, while the diversification of media may contribute to the outward diversification of the works, we need to be aware of the possibility that it encourages the involution of the genre as a whole.
The more information is exchanged, the more redundancies there are and the more monotonous it becomes . For example, now that communication by personal computer has become the norm, people read and perhaps write enormous amounts of text every day . As a result, we see developing a common “computer style” of writing that is excellent for transmitting information but extremely limited in its capacity for description and definition. The impoverishment of visual information is most evident in the spread of anime-style images.
So what is this about? Increasing the level of detail or rendering movement more subtly in anime would take exponentially more money and time. But of course these luxuries are not always possible. On the other hand, too much abbreviation reduces the images to mere signs and makes for a very dreary representation (like the Saturday morning cartoons in the United States, where the only facial movements are blinking eyes and opening and closing mouths). The solution to the problem in Japan was, I believe, the introduction of the “big eyes and small mouth” that has become the tradition in Japanese anime.
The only parts of a manga that cannot be drawn by assistants are the face, and particularly the eyes, of the main characters. The author’s style appears in its most concentrated form in the facial expression and the eyes. The shortcut technique that resulted from this was to divide up the drawing of the background among assistants and make the characters like simple signs. This made possible the division of labor. Then, to avoid making the characters too much like mere signs, the facial expression, particularly the eyes, and the hands are drawn with great care. Among all the human organs, these occupy the position closest to the grammatical subject. Drawing the eyes and hands with special care has the same value as inserting text. Or, to put it the other way around, as long as the eyes and hands are carefully drawn, the rest can be abbreviated. Then one can add more facial expressions and make them more complex with manpu. This procedure enables the streamlining of the production process while also effectively communicating a wide variety of subtle emotional codes, making it easy for the viewer to identify emotionally. This is likely the origin of the too-large eyes and tiny mouth that Westerners so often point out in Japanese manga and anime. The anime image is the result of a sophisticated technique that enables a maximum of communication with a minimum of lines.
One noticeable trend in recent years, which may have to do mostly with keeping costs down, is that even as the images are drawn with greater and greater sophistication of design and coloration, they tend to move much less. The appearance of movement is skillfully produced by blurring the image, using flashes of lights, and bank sequences [19*. Bank sequences, or Bankukatto, are sequences of animation that can be used repeatedly, such as when a heroine is transforming or assuming a decisive pose.], but on closer inspection there is actually very little movement. The impact of “anime images” results from drawings so refined that this sort of thing no longer appears unnatural. Moreover, because there is no need for the drawings to be particularly intricate, they can be easily digitized, which makes it possible to transfer them into a computer game without altering them. This style of drawing, which is devoid of texture and consists only of fine lines and surfaces, helps smooth the flow of the so-called media mix as the images are transplanted from comics to anime to film, games, figurines, and toys.
The space of manga and anime has introduced easily shareable code systems into our Imaginary. This shareability, in turn, introduces elements of polymorphous perversion into that space. As a result, in the 1980s we first became aware of a very important fact, namely, that even the objects of our sexuality were shareable through the mediation of manga and anime. This realization led to the explosive growth of sexualized images in this space. Of course, the wholesome notion that manga and anime are basically for children exists even now. But even this constraint was converted into a useful technique. Depicting sex in a context that is for children almost inevitably produces undifferentiated, which to say polymorphously perverse, effects. <also, and a much darker scene between the protagonist Utena and the antagonist Akio in the episode The Prince Who Runs Through the Night, a friend pointed this out to me, in terms of what it’s depicting and how True it is. The disassociation and ambivalence that suffuses a traumatic event…>.
To create an autonomous object of desire within the fictional space of manga and anime: was this not the ultimate dream of the otaku? They sought to create fiction not as a stand-in for the “real” sexual object, but fiction that had no need to be secured by reality. For this to work, not even the most elaborately constructed fictional worlds would suffice. In order for fiction to attain its own autonomous reality, it would have to be desired for its own sake. Only then would reality bow down to fiction.
“Fiction” versus “Reality”
Earlier I referred rather casually to the contrast between “fiction” and “reality.” Of course, I do not accept this contrast naively. In fact, it is my belief that everyday reality is itself nothing more than a fiction (or fantasy) and that it is fundamentally impossible to draw a strict distinction between them. One reason that I raise the distinction nonetheless is in order to think once more about “Japan.” The art critic Sawaragi Noi has argued that Japan functions as what he calls a “bad place” and that any act of expression that attempts to escape from that place can only end up by making it worse and getting caught in a vicious circle. If such a place can be hypothesized, it is entirely possible that it could also subsume the place of manga and anime that I have been discussing here. For now I call that space “Japanese space” and contrast it with another unique representational space, which I call “Western space.”
As I pointed out earlier, in Japanese space the distinction between fiction and reality is not completely in effect. The distinction itself is in fact based on a Western idea . **In his theory of ideals Plato begins with a three-part distinction between the ideal, reality, and art, and places art at the bottom of the hierarchy because it is only an imitation of reality. In Plato’s system there is only a series of copies, with the copy of the ideal being reality and the copy of reality being art. Art must content itself with the lowly position of being a copy of a copy, an imitation of an imitation. Added to this is the influence of Judeo-Christian culture, which rejects idolatry. In “Western space,” even today “reality” is made to conform strictly to this ranking. In this context the notion of the “Reality of fiction” is already attenuated by being subjected to all sorts of constraints.
<"But I say to you that whoever looks at a woman to lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart" Matthew 5:28.>
For example, in American popular culture the most privileged fiction form is film. To be made into a film is the ultimate proof of the success of any narrative, whether it originates as a novel or a play. Of course, there are any number of reasons for this, but one is surely the belief that live-action film is the most accurate imitation or reproduction of reality. The impact of live-action film is supported by the belief that what it portrays is a faithful reproduction of reality. In my opinion there is absolutely no difference between the fictionality of live-action film and animated ones; it is just that anime is considered more fictional because it is under the constraint of having to be drawn by someone. For this reason animated films have almost no chance of winning the Academy Award for Best Picture and will always remain a genre inferior to film.
Thinking about censorship practices makes this even clearer. Censors in Japanese space seem for the most part uninterested in the symbolic value of what they are censoring. As long as the genitals are not portrayed explicitly, they will allow even the most depraved images to be shown. In Western space, however, images are censored according to their symbolic value. The censors are not interested in the trivial question of whether or not the genitals are visible, but reserve their strictest scrutiny for obscenity and perverse content. A recent example is the cover for Marilyn Manson’s CD Mechanical Animals. In the composite photograph, Manson appears nude as he glares at the viewer, but with the smooth groin and small breasts of a young girl. This level of perversion does not cause the least problem in Japan. But in the United States it create quite a scandal, with several large music stores refusing the carry the album. One could list any number of similar examples of this difference in the way Japanese and Americans judge an image obscene. Of course, even in Japan this sort of taboo on images still lingers when it comes to the Imperial family, but even that is losing the force it once had. In fact, that taboo has become so weak that it would shock even Okuzaki Kenzo. We are now living in an age when it is possible to publish a manga depicting a bomb thrown at Princess Masako during a parade, and the romance between Princess Kiko and Prince Akishino has been made into an anime. In other words, we still do not have the slightest idea what it is that defines depravity.
One conclusion that we can draw from this comparison is that visual expression in Western space is symbolically castrated, while Japanese space there is only imaginary castration, at most. For example, in Western space any image that symbolizes the penis is censored, while in Japanese space as long as you do not portray the penis itself anything goes. In this ironic sense I would suggest that Japanese media enjoy the great freedom of expression. The problem arises with this freedom itself.
In Japanese space, fiction itself is recognized as having its own autonomous reality. As I mentioned earlier, in Western space reality is always in the superior position, and the fictional space is not allowed to encroach on it. Various prohibitions are introduced to establish and maintain this superiority. It is not permitted for example, to produce images depicting sexual perversion. This is because fiction must not be more real (riaru) than reality. Fiction must be carefully castrated so that it does not become too appealing. This is what I mean by symbolic castration.
It is often remarked that the heroines of Western comics and anime are for the most part not very cute. They often include beautiful women and naked bodies, but rarely do they directly represent characters as sexually attractive. This cannot be explained simply as a result of a discrepancy in technical skill or differing notions of beauty. In the case of an actual Hollywood actress, Japanese and American fans are likely to speak in similar ways about her sexual attractiveness. But the situation is very different when it comes to heroines who appear as drawn images. Betty Boop, for example, may be drawn in a sexy outfit (with a garter belt!), but she is more like a parody of a sexy actress. Her fans are not immediately captivated by Betty’s sexual charms.
To continue with our discussion of Western space, we might remember that 1957 saw the creation of the so-called Comics Code Authority that formulated self-regulatory codes for comics in the United States and effectively spelled the end of the golden age of American comics. At the time juvenile delinquency had become a hot-button issue, and comics were singled out as a contributing factor. Among comic fans the formation of the CCA is referred to as the “Total Disaster.” The list of restrictions is as absurdly detailed as the rules at a Japanese high school. A few items that stand out on the list are

• “Divorce shall not be treated humorously nor represented as desirable.”
• “If crime is depicted it shall be as a sordid and unpleasant activity.”
• “In every instance good shall triumph over evil and the criminal punished [sic] for his misdeeds.”
• “Policemen, judges, government officials and respected institutions shall never be presented in such a way as to create disrespect for established authority.”

Under the category of “Marriage and Sex” the code states that “Nudity in any form is prohibited,” “Females shall be drawn realistically without exaggeration of any physical qualities,” “Illicit sex relations are neither to be hinted at nor portrayed,” “Seduction and rape shall never be shown or suggested,” and “Sex perversion or any inference to same is strictly forbidden.” Japanese manga as harmless as Sazae-san and Doraemon might run afoul of these rules. If regulations this strict were in force in Japan, virtually every manga magazine in print would have to be shut down.
It is thus quite possible to analyze the differences between Japan and the United States from the perspective of regulations. But what I want to stress here is that these rules show all the symptoms of an excessive defense reaction. No matter how popular comics had become by the 1950s, they could hardly compete with film. Nevertheless, they were much more severely regulated, to the point of destroying an entire genre of expression. Would it be too much to see in this an echo of what we might call the West’s iconographic taboo? The highly detailed and concrete restrictions on the depictions of sexuality are particularly remarkable. In these restrictions we can clearly see operating the obsessive idea that images themselves must not be sexually attractive.
Pornography must be considered as part of this discussion of the visual expression of sexuality. Pornography, needless to say, prizes images that are realistic and highly practical. In the decline of roman poruno and the rise of adult video, for example, one can see the pursuit of convenience and practicality. Pornographic images trend toward being more suitable for private consumption, reproduction and distribution gets easier, and pornographic expression gets more and more explicit. But in the Japanese space this leads to another contradiction: namely, the existence of “porno comics.” I want to stress once again that I am speaking of pornography in general here, not of “erotic expression.” It is perhaps only in Japan that pornography has taken the form of comic books and attained a certain popularity in doing so. Of course, there are porno comics that are meant to be used as masturbation aids in the West as well, but on a scale that does not even being to compare with that of Japan.
It seems absurd that such an enormous market would emerge for pornographic comics in a country where “hair nudes” are everywhere and people are somewhat bored even of adult videos. As I pointed out earlier, anime-style drawing has been hugely influential in this genre as well. In terms of their correspondence to everyday reality, there is no less realistic style of drawing. Despite this, however, these kinds of representation have been widely preferred as a medium for pornography. This would be entirely unimaginable in Europe or the United States, and the contrast points to a significant cultural difference.
Of course, there is a historical background to this as well. According to Timon Screech of the University of London’s School of Oriental and African Studies, the so-called shunga that were produced in such huge quantities in the Edo period were used by the masses as masturbation aids.
If that is in fact the case, we should also be able to find the roots of manga and anime in the Edo period, in a culture in which sexual desire was both stimulated and satisfied by drawn images. The issue here, needless to say, has something to do with anything like the symbolic expression of eros. The problem that we have arrived at instead is that of the immediacy of the drawn image.
As I have already pointed out, there are many fans of anime and manga in the West. But they are virtually unanimous in their hatred for so-called tentacle porn. They believe that sexuality does not belong in animation. What do Japanese otaku think about this? If they were shown this sort of pornographic work they would either give a wry smile or launch into a lengthy discussion of the history of adult anime using works like Cream Lemon (Kuriimu remon) and Legend of the Overfiend (Urotsukidoji) as examples. I cannot help but see in this difference another huge contrast between Japanese and Western otaku.
Leaving aside the question of whether it is possible to read in this the traces of taboos and repression, for now let us reiterate the minimal facts of which we can be certain. In the Western space of popular culture, it is exceedingly rare to find drawn iconic images of cute little girls and erotic nudes. In that space there is an unconscious censorship of drawn images, and their reality is kept within certain limits. The type of caricatures so conspicuous in Disney’s animations can even be considered as a technique of exaggeration for the purpose of repression. Constant and meticulous efforts are made in this space to prevent drawn images from attaining their own autonomous reality. In other words, drawn images are always kept in the position of being substitutes for objects that exist in reality.
In Japanese space, on the other hand, it is permissible for all sorts of sites to have their own autonomous reality (riariti). In other words, real (riaru ) fictions do not necessarily require the security of reality (genjitsu). There is absolutely no need in this space for fiction to imitate reality. Fiction is able to clear a space around itself for its own reality (riariti ku kan). The appeal of drawn images of little girls, for example, is a crucial element in the production of this reality (riariti). Here, fiction must establish a logic of sexuality all its own. This is because, in Japanese space, sexuality is the most important factor upholding reality (riariti). Of course, this is not true only of anime. Why else, for example, did the artistic traditions of the past put so much emphasis on the depiction of women? Why do rakugo raconteurs spend so much time extolling the pleasures of womanizing? And why do manga instruction courses always begin with how to draw a boy-girl couple? All of these things, which are particular to Japan, suggest that in this space it is sexuality that upholds the reality of fiction (kyoko no riariti).
So let us accept the autonomy of fiction and put forward the thesis that this autonomy is a necessary precondition for the beautiful fighting girl to emerge. If this is the case, we cannot in any sense see in them the reflection of “everyday reality.” It would not be permissible, for example, to infer from the popularity of beautiful fighting girls that girls are being empowered in the real world. It is the stubborn habit of seeing fiction as an imitation of reality, which is hard even for the Japanese to resist, that is at the root of this misunderstanding. The misunderstanding may be logically consistent, but that same logical consistency is also precisely what renders it invalid.
Getting back to our discussion of the image in Japanese space, I repeat that representations in this space do not undergo symbolic castration. There are some gestures toward imaginary castration with regard to sexual codes, but these are barely functional, and in the end they actually come closer to initiating a drive toward the disavowal of castration. The disavowal of castration is of course the initial condition for sexual perversion, which is why this space exhibits such an affinity for perverted objects. All sorts of images come to occupy various positions within this ecosystem of autonomous reality, and the space begins to overflow with meanings rendered through sexual and other codes. In this place, so highly charged with meaning because of this sheer verbosity of codes, context is privileged over any single disarticulated code. Meaning is transmitted instantaneously here, but its provenance can never be traced back to a single code.
This sort of high-context representational space can sometimes lose some of its reality effect if it is circulated too widely and understood too easily. How might it resist this attenuation of reality? One way is, of course, through sexuality. As I have argued several times already, sex is a necessary component for a narrative to seem real. The various struggles and manipulations surrounding sexuality (i.e., “romance”) are what introduce a core of reality into a narrative.
The widespread transgression of sexual limits in Japanese representational culture can also be interpreted in light of the high-context nature of Japanese space. High-context expressive space is, by nature, incapable of making full use of the effects of structural and formal reality. Instead it is the intensities that emerge at moments of shifting and switching from one context to another that are used to create reality effects. In the highest context spaces of anime and manga, most important are those gestures capable of transcending the context of heterosexual desire. The various characteristics of the beautiful fighting girls, which include hermaphorditism, transformation (i.e., accelerated maturation), and the strange mixture of proactivity (i.e., fighting ability) and passivity (i.e., cuteness), all help facilitate the emergence of this transcendental reality. That all manner of perversions should be evoked in their presence is only natural.
[To be continued... The Phallic Girl as a Form of Hysteria]

I should not be writing this. I know they will be looking for me as soon as this goes live. I had to get the word out despite all the secrecy surrounding the project. I don't know what they'll do to me when they find me, but this has to get out.
I was unemployed vet tech looking for work when I came across a job listing offering a strangely large amount of money. What did I have to loose? I called the number and they gave me a website to go to that took me through an application process and a security clearance form that I had to fill out the last seven years of my life. They said it would be months until the clearance would come through but to my surprise a month later I got a phone call telling me I had been granted Interm Secret clearance and the job would proceed.
I had to go to a building without any name on it downtown and they took my photo for an ID card and a packet of information about where I was to go to the next day.
The next morning I drove to the address with a mix of excitement and apprehension. What about this job required a security clearance? Why had I gotten my interm secret so quickly? I figured I'd soon find out when I pulled up to a gate with a card reader. I swiped my ID and the razor wire topped gate slid open so I could pass. Yeah nothing ominous about that. I drove a mile or so down the road and parked in the parking lot in front of a building that looked like the set of a prison movie. The windows were narrow slits and I could tell from a distance that the door was very heavy duty. Thinking back a few minutes ago wasn't the top of that razor wire fence angled in as if to keep something in rather than people out?
I got out and approached the heavy door. I spotted the card reader and used my ID on it and it flashed green and there was a loud clunking sound from the door as it unlocked. I had to put some muscle behind it to get it to open and then it shut behind me followed by another loud clunk as the locks reengaged.
I turned to see a thick armored window with a guard staring me down.
"First day huh?" he asked me as he looked at his screen.
"Yeah," I said a bit nervously.
"Sit tight, your department head will be coming to pick you up and take you to your in-brief," he said.
"What uh, what is this place?" I asked.
"All that will be answered by the briefing so have a seat and relax. You're likely in the safest spot in the facility," he said.
I looked at the inner door and noticed it was just as thick and heavy as the outer one. I was essentially sitting in an armored booth so he was technically right about it being safe.
When my boss arrived he was wearing scrubs and had his ID card clipped to the bottom of the V of the top.
"So, you're my new tech?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir," I replied.
"Good, hopefully you follow instructions better than the last one," he said. "I'm Dr. Tanner. You can call me 'Sir' or 'Doctor'."
"Sir, can you tell me what I'll be doing here?" I asked.
"All in due time. First you need to complete the safety briefing. It is not a joke. Take a look at the windows and doors if you need convincing. The government doesn't spend this kind of money unless it's very necessary, and it is. You'll understand the need for it when I introduce you to our charges. I'm not going to tell you yet because I enjoy the look on people's faces when they get their first peak of what we're doing here," he said. "Now, for the safety briefing. Follow me."
He began to open the inner door when he stopped and looked back at me. "Do you have any electronic devices on you?"
"No Sir, the security documents instructed me to leave my phone and anything with a digital memory in the car," I said.
"Excellent, you're already demonstrating that you can follow directions," he said. Was that a hint of a smile I saw?
He lead me down the hallway to a room on the left and used his card to unlock and open the door. After I walked inside what appeared to be a conference room he followed me inside and let the door shut.
I immediately noticed the back of the door wasn't the usual thing one would expect to see. It had a big lever in the middle that looked like it operated bolts to secure the door shut. I started to wonder what the hell I had gotten myself into. I expected to be working with maybe the facility's guard dogs. This kind of security was on a level I hadn't experienced before.
"Good, you're observant, another plus," the doctor said.
He walked over to the table and picked up a recorder and pressed play. A trilling alarm sound came for it and he let it play for a few seconds before cutting it off.
"If you hear that sound along with flashing red lights you are to go to the nearest safe room, such as this one and use this lever to bolt the door," He walked over and pressed a button by the windows and the thick glass became opaque.
"And you are to opaque the windows with the control in the room so nothing can see in," he said and then pointed to a door on the other wall that had 'Emergency Supplies' written on it. "There you will find food, water, and other necessities if you happen to be locked down for an extended period of time. There is also a radio already set to the control room frequency. If the phone is not working pull the tab on the back of the radio so the battery makes contact and reports in with the information posted on the back of the door. That's basically who you are, where you are, and if there are any threats you know of near you. Otherwise sit tight unless told otherwise."
"Threats?" I asked.
"Our charges are out of containment or an external threat," the doctor replied.
"What's so dangerous that we need bunker rooms like this?" I asked.
"All in due time," he replied. "Have you ever used a tranquilizer gun?"
"No," I responded.
"No matter, you'd need to qualify on the two types we use anyway with the security team," he said.
"Why do we need tranquilizer guns?" I asked.
"The animals we work with are dangerous. They're sedated before they get to us and one of our tasks is to make sure they stay sedated until they're returned to the enclosure. If one wakes up and slips a restraint you are not going to want to go near it to give an injection. That's why we have tranq guns," The doctor said.
"That makes perfect sense to me," I said. My curiosity was burning wondering what we were working with. Had to be something like large predators to require this much security. A grizzly would be a plausible reason why the doors had the extra bars. The force they could produce could snap the usual latches.
"Good because it's time for my favorite part. Showing the new guy what we work with," the doctor said and led the way deeper into the facility and up a set of stars to a room labeled 'observation deck'.
"The windows are to remain frosted by the electronic controls there whenever the room is not in use. They cannot see in but they seem to know someone is watching them and it upsets them. It's best for everyone if they are not upset," He reached over and pressed the button and the electronic frosting cleared.
That's the moment where my brain completely derailed and I questioned my own sanity.
"W-Werewolves?" I asked.
"No, at least not at this facility. These are a lesser known cryptid called Dogmen, kind of like Bigfoot."
"Wait, is Bigfoot real?" I asked.
"Yes, but not nearly as widespread as 'sightings' would make you think," he said.
"If these exist, what else is real?" I asked him.
"That's beyond your need to know," he said sternly, but then his face softened. "I'll lend you a book later that contains everything we've confirmed and studied. After all, if you continue with this job you will have the opportunity to work with them in the future, and it's best you know what you're getting into," he said. "One benefit they probably haven't gotten around to telling you yet is that they will pay for your education. You can become a full veterinarian working with the most interesting creatures that exist," he said. "Not a bad gig, huh?"
"Except for the part where I'm working with large dangerous creatures," I said.
"Large, intelligent, dangerous creatures," he replied. "And that is why we have procedures and rules. Things like always having more sedative staged to inject if a patient starts to wake up, having them restrained at all times, and if they do wake up you have the tranq guns to put them back under without risking yourself," he said and tapped the control to frost over the glass again.
Our next stop was back in the conference room where there were now a couple of binders.
"Now for the boring part. Study these because you'll have to pass a test on them later. It's those procedures I mentioned. It covers everything from handling the animals, dosages we use, and why we can't leave after dark."
"Wait, we can't leave after dark?" I asked, a bit alarmed.
"There are dogmen in the woods surrounding this facility. The fence does a decent job of keeping them out but they do get in and they're not happy we have some of their kind captive. They're fairly shy during the day and become active at night so it's for your own safety that once the sun sets you stay here. We have secure rooms just for the occasion, and scrubs are not short in supply if you need a change of clothing. We have a mess hall staffed 24/7 by some excellent cooks. People who can do this job are rare so they take care of us. Now get to reading, you'll have to pass a test before you're allowed to work. I'll come pick you up for lunch."
I did as he said and spent the next few hours reading with a break for the promised lunch that was beef stroganoff and actually really good. I went for seconds. Then it was back to memorizing policy and procedures till I was finally done and managed a passing score on the test. That was followed by some time at an indoor range getting qualified on the tranq guns.
The doctor reviewed my test and nodded. "Excellent, you're a fast learner. We've rescheduled some things for tomorrow so we'll have the extra help. You head home and get a good night's rest. I'll see you in the morning in the veterinary section, just follow the signs it's easy to find," the doctor said.
I did as he said and drove home. I couldn't help but be a good deal more vigilant as I looked at the woods on the way out. Dogmen were out there and no one in the area except us knew. There were the cryptid hunters but they didn't know for sure like I did from seeing a pack close up.
Needless to say I didn't get a whole lot of sleep that night. My mind was racing with the possibilities of what was real from all of the stories.
In the morning I made breakfast and sat for a bit having to give myself a reality check that yesterday wasn't just a dream, so I finally picked up my keys and headed out. I drove down the lonely road and passed through the gate without incident. I parked my car and made my way through the security checkpoints and began following the signs to the Veterinarian department. As the doctor had said, it wasn't difficult to find.
There were three entrances all like airlocks that were long enough for a gurney. It didn't take long to figure out the purpose. If you had dangerous animals inside you wanted at least one door containment so they couldn't get past you and into the larger facility.
I went inside through the airlock like doors one at a time and found myself in a very familiar veterinary clinic though one that was very well stocked.
It was then that I met my other coworker, I'll call him Mike, who was sitting on a stool reading a magazine.
"Hey, you must be the new guy. I'm Mike," he said and I introduced myself.
"So, your first big day. You excited, or terrified?" Mike asked.
"A bit of both," I said honestly.
"Relax, by the time they get to us they've been pumped with enough drugs to drop an elephant. We take samples and the guards take them back out. Then we run the usual tests like any other animal. It's easy money," Mike said. "We're never in any danger."
"What about all of the procedures?" I asked.
"There's what's written down on paper and then there's what is practical and works. If we followed the checklist for every dogman that's brought in here it would just take us twice as long, and twice as long that it can wake up," Mike said. "So relax, I'll show you what you really have to do to streamline things."
What was I to say? He'd obviously been doing this for a long time and if his system worked who was I to question it?
Our first patient of the day made me the most nervous. The security team wheeled in a restrained female on a gurney right into the middle of our space then they backed out. Being the new guy I did the basics by checking heart rate, breathing, and looking into the eyes to make sure she was out cold. Everything was normal based on the numbers I had memorized.
Mike watched me, corrected my stethoscope placement a little and started drawing blood as soon as I was done. The moment he was done he buzzed the guards to take her back out while he labeled the samples.
"Less time they're in here the better so label your samples and fill out the papers once they're taken out," Mike said. "No need to have a dangerous animal laying around while we fill out forms."
"What about the extra sedative we're supposed to have ready?" I asked.
"The tranq guns are right there. Much safer to back off out of reach and just shoot them with another dose," Mike said. I couldn't fault his logic.
We had four more patients that day all went as smoothly as the first and I was beginning to relax. It was our last patient of the day when things went wrong.
It started normally with the guards rolling the male into our space and I took vitals and checked the eyes.
"Hey, I have some dilation here. I don't think he's under enough. Where's the sedative?" I asked.
"Don't worry about it. I'll be done before he realizes what happened," Mike said and undid one of the restraints a little so he could get to the vein. It was at that point things went horribly wrong. As soon as Mike inserted the needle the male woke up and jabbed it's hand upward catching Mike in the throat and spraying blood everywhere. I moved forward out of instinct to try and tighten the restraint when I felt a searing pain across my face and my right eye went red.
I stumbled back. Oh God had I lost my eye? I shook myself out of it long enough to badge through a door and throw the bolts before pressing the intercom button. "Creature out of containment in veterinary. I think Mike is dead. I'm hurt and need a medic!" I said before blacking out.
I don't know how long it was but when I woke up I was in a hospital room and the Veterinarian was sitting beside my bed.
"You're safe, you're in a hospital and just out of cosmetic surgery. You'll have some scars but it'll look like the result of a big cat. Your eye is fine."
"Mike?" I asked.
"Dead before any help would get to him. We have video of the whole thing including you questioning him multiple times on matters of procedure. Don't let someone senior intimidate you into not being safe. You have a month's paid leave to recuperate." he said.
So here I am. I need some advice. Should I go back to work after my leave is done or turn in my resignation? It won't take them much to figure out who I am if they find this post. I also don't know what they'll do to me if they do.

I am not The OOP, OOP is u/IcemanEx54
GM Locked Me Out Of Interacting With Other Players Because I Got Confused
Originally posted to rpghorrorstories
TRIGGER WARNING: manipulation, controlling behavior, sexism
Original Post March 6, 2024
I'm a player in a tabletop RPG campaign and I just wanted to vent about this session. The GM uses a "rules light" homebrew system and it's his homebrew world as well. He's been doing this campaign for years now, but I just joined through a mutual friend after another player left recently.
When I joined the campaign, the GM had told me he wanted me to be from a particular country as a prince, and since it was his homebrewed world, I went with it. The country I'm a prince of is a massive empire that has conquered many lands. I wanted to be a morally good character so I made up a backstory where my prince had a secret romance with a commoner so it gave me more empathy and understanding than my other royal peers would have. Then in session 1, he had the commoner immediately break up with me since the players were all leaving the city session 1.
Several sessions later, there is a carnival being hosted in the empire and all the players are attending. The players split up and my part began with my character watching as a mentally handicap child was put in the dunk tank and was being dunked against his will. So I had my character help the child and stop the game (This isn't relevant to the larger story but I thought it was really weird). Then I am told I have to go to the "main stage" which is just a strip club seemingly. And of course, walking around topless serving drinks is my character's commoner love interest that I made in session 0. The GM laughs a bit and comments, "Isn't it funny? Look at what your ex has to do without you." I have my character give her the shirt off his back and we go to the outskirts of the carnival to find a quiet place to talk, but then the carnival was ambushed by some enemies as arrows and fire rained down on the parade.
Suddenly, my character and his ex are teleported back to the main stage and the GM starts jumping back and forth between all the player characters asking what we want to do without any sort of initiative and if we don't respond quickly enough he skips to another player. I ask, "What direction are the arrows coming from?" GM, "You can't tell". "Which direction to the palace?" I ask. "You don't know," he tells me. I'm honestly genuinely confused about what to do here and my mind goes blank, but then the GM has my bodyguard (a Brienne of Tarth type) tell me to follow her so I do. As he cuts back and forth, another player loses his mom in the chaos, I tell GM, "I want to help him find his mom." "You can't see him" GM tells me. Then I ended up surrounded by 12 ambushers in the "Pleasure Gardens". GM asked what I would do. I say since the carnival is burning, I look for a piece of wood on fire and since it's the pleasure gardens maybe there's some oil I can spill and light on fire to separate myself, my bodyguard, and ex who are all with me from the ambushers. He tells me there's no oil and then I'm held down by the men. I tried to escape, but he says I failed (he just did a dice roll behind his screen and didn't tell me the results). I am then hogtied by the ambushers with my bodyguard and ex and thrown in a cart. Meanwhile, the other two players have stolen a cart and are escaping. I try to do a goofy wave as my character is tied up towards my companions and he just says, the carts never pass each other so the other players don't see you. Before the session ends he tells me my bodyguard is dead.
After the session, I think my body language showed I was a bit bummed. So GM pipes in, "You want to know why you failed that encounter?" He proceeded to tell me it was because I followed my bodyguard and there was no way a woman could have protected me and I needed to make the choice instead. Some of the other players chimed in and said it was surprising my bodyguard failed since in the lore she was a 20-year veteran who survived "The Great War". The GM keeps defending his choice. Then he started making self-deprecating jokes about how he just sucks then and he's the worst GM ever until the other players all reassure him it's fine. I kind of just sat there shell-shocked.
His system reduces dice rolls to a rarity and he does them all himself as a "way to keep tension". I'm honestly more about hanging out with my friends than judging the quality of any campaign or system but this was my first "combat" of any sort in the campaign and I just felt so helpless in this system and it was frustrating. Plus there are no insight or persuasion rolls, just what the GM claims "my character would know" and "how his NPCs would act". So I'm not sure how I was supposed to handle this encounter. Being a GM myself, I thought he was using my bodyguard character to get me back on track, but I thought wrong. I honestly wouldn't have minded if he was just railroading me for a plot point, but him trying to manipulate me and saying his hands were tied when he essentially locked me out of interacting with the other players for the rest of the session is what bothers me the most.
Edit: Changed gaslighting to manipulating since I was using the term wrong and don't want to dilute it's meaning.
Update: GM Defends Style And Told Me He Owns My Character March 20, 2024
This is an update from my post a couple of weeks ago.
One of my friends in the group reached out to me and asked me to not leave the group. He told me there were only 2 sessions left and asked me to stick around as a favor to him. I told him I'd reach out to GM and see if we could get on the same page. So I texted the GM and told him I wanted to talk because I had some concerns after the way everything went down last session. He was down and we talked on the phone a couple of days later. To my surprise, the first thing he did was profusely apologize. I hadn't been responding in our group chat, partly because I was mad and partly because my partner had a death in her family. I guess me not responding caused him to dwell on the last session a bunch. He said he was going to retcon my bodyguard's death and keep her alive. I even told him that the treatment of women in the campaign was bad and that it was making the story worse, he told me that it is something that he can work on being better about too. I was surprised, but all this gave me a lot of optimism for this conversation.
I was honest and I told him that his homebrew system is very difficult for me since I don't have a character sheet. So my character doesn't have abilities, he doesn't level up, and I can't do things like roll investigate or perception rolls which makes it hard for me to make informed decisions. I told him it makes me very risk adverse because I don't have things like HP to even know if I'm in danger. He responded to this by telling me I shouldn't worry about that because his GM style rewards me if I roleplay well enough. He went on to say he hates systems with things like perception rolls because that's "Not how real life works".
I also lamented the fact that I also don't get to interact with the other players much. I didn't mention this in my first post, but he plays with all of us in a Discord call but he only plays with us one at a time, and the two of us who aren't playing are expected to listen and record notable quotes for his notes. He'll switch between characters where each player gets 2-3 "scenes" in a 3 hour session. He has our characters all spread out across the country Game of Thrones style and I've only gotten to play with another player in 2 sessions so far. This was also why that carnival scene was so frustrating because all 3 players were finally in the same place and we were trying to find each other and he just kept saying, "You don't see them".
He told me that he doesn't do party-based adventures because you can't get character growth that way. I pushed back and said I've seen awesome character growth in traditional DnD style games in the past, it just depends on the group. I also said he's just making things harder for himself by trying to run three campaigns instead of one. And if we don't have character sheets and aren't in a party then this is all more dramatic improv than a tabletop RPG.
He responded by saying his way is better because it creates a real story and that I should be happy because he made me the main character. (I guess that is what me being the prince means?) He then went on a rant about how much he loves the game world he created and he's very grateful that our characters brought it to life. But then he says that since it's his world, he feels like he owns our characters now and that after the campaign he wants us all to sign off on him using the characters to write books and a screenplay. And if we don't he'll just change their names and do it anyway. He then thanks me and tells me that this campaign is the main thing that has been stopping him from self-harm and going to dark places. Then he says he has to go and he rushes to hang up before I can say anything else.
I'm dumbfounded after that rapid-fire series of bombshells. I've known since the first few sessions that this was barely a TTRPG, but I got to hang out with my friends so I didn't care what it was. It was nice to hang out with old friends a couple times each month. Then the story got weird, and there was so much misogyny, and then I had the horrible session that caused my original post. Then in this conversation, he throws up even more red flags that I'm not blind to, but he is also planting a seed that he may harm himself without the campaign which is not something I want on my conscience. I'm just exhausted at this point.
TLDR: GM says that abilities and parties make TTRPGs worse and he wants to use our characters to write books/movies after the campaign because he owns them since we're playing in his world. He says he may fall back to self-harm without the campaign, making me feel guilty for wanting to leave.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
ShitThroughAGoose

Any update to this?

OOP

I ended up doing one more session for the finale. There was some drama during that session and when I mentioned that I didn't want to play in the next season of the campaign. I wasn't sure if I wanted to post about it again. I might still, but I think I want to take some time and reflect on everything.

Final Update May 11, 2024
[Final Update] Moving On From My Toxic DM And Losing A Friend In The Process
This will hopefully be my last post on this sub for a long time, but I’ve been using this place to vent about my toxic situation for a while so I figured I might as well post how everything concluded and what happened when I left. I’m going to reflect on everything and recap the important parts so no one has to read 3 posts.
It all started when I decided to start DMing to keep in touch with some college friends after graduation. During my first campaign, one of the players, Pirate, asked if his friend, Colorado, could join. I didn't really know Colorado, but I figured, "the more, the merrier."
Colorado had some issues early on, giving unsolicited advice to everyone on how to play and viewing newer or shy players as “side characters”. However, he frequently missed sessions, only showing up for less than half of them for the first few years so nothing came to a head early on. Then, Colorado decided he wanted to bring back his tabletop campaign from his college days and started trying to recruit players after my sessions. Pirate suggested I join the campaign, promising that Colorado was a better DM than player. Since I had been the Forever DM up to that point, I agreed to give it a go.
I created a character who was part of the royal family but enjoyed interacting with commoners in the slums, even having a secret girlfriend from that background. After that, Colorado also started hitting me up to help with the campaign. I ended up photoshopping character art for a bunch of his NPCs and I even drew his world map for him. I didn't mind doing it, as I do that kind of stuff for fun.
For our first session, Colorado had already created character sheets for us based on our backstories, but only he could see them. Colorado would also roll all the dice himself so “all we had to focus on is roleplaying”. We played one on one in different "scenes" that could last around 30 minutes to an hour each. We usually had around 2 to 4 scenes per session, depending on what Colorado thought was important. During the game, Colorado asked us to write down quotes from him and the other players when it wasn't our turn.
I had to wait for well over an hour before I could finally play. My first session was on rails. I mostly just had to repeat after Colorado during a ceremony. Afterwards, I got to sneak out of the castle and meet with my commoner girlfriend, but Colorado immediately had her break up with me. Then I was told that I had to leave the city. I was essentially locked out of my hanging out in the slums and commoner girlfriend subplots. NPCs generally disliked my morally good character, especially my sister who was depicted as purely evil towards me. Despite my efforts to mend the relationship, she never changed her mind and Colorado never rolled any dice to determine that. Later Colorado revealed to me the character was based on his ex-girlfriend, who was originally intended to be the player character from my country before they broke up.
Eventually, I finally got to interact with another player, Soldier, who I had really good chemistry with and we had a really fun scene. Which Colorado exclaimed, “See! This is why I keep you apart. It makes these moments so much more epic!” But I’m just thinking that if we were in a party, every session could be this epic.
Then Colorado got busy. He went to some alternative medicine nature retreat and didn’t pay his rent the whole time he was gone so he got evicted. At that point, the campaign went on hiatus as people got busy and Colorado was couch hopping. It was during that time I considered the campaign over and made my first post because I thought it fit the sub. Then a year after the last session, Colorado started trying to organize the group to do 3 more sessions to finish the campaign. I just ghosted the group chat for a while, but Pirate’s roommate is a player in the campaign I DM so Pirate started hopping on the call asking me to come back for the finale. Pirate told me that it would be different this time because all of our characters were going to meet up for the finale and he really wanted to play with me. I naively agreed to give the game a second chance.
The first of those three sessions led to this post and this follow up.
[TLDR - I never got to meet up with the other characters. Colorado made my ex a stripper and I was captured by invaders with no dice rolls to prevent it. I had a conversation with him about my concerns after the last session. He apologized and agreed to make changes saying he needed the campaign for his mental health.]
Colorado decided to have a single super finale session, which I reluctantly attended because of sunk cost fallacy. I was imprisoned, beaten and whipped, separated from my girlfriend and recently resurrected bodyguard. A deus-ex ninja offered to help me escape, but I wanted to save all the prisoners. So I helped the commoners escape with the ninja before saving my girlfriend. My bodyguard got captured, but I made sure my girlfriend escaped and then I went to save my bodyguard because I wasn’t letting her die after she just got resurrected. I tried to find my bodyguard but every door was locked and I was forced into a long one on one fight with a guard that would make John Carpenter blush. I lost the fight due to an unknown -2 modifier on my fighting rolls, leading to my re-imprisonment.
Pirate tried to board a boat to reach my location, but was unsuccessful. Colorado informed him that the sailors refused to let him on the ship because they didn't like his tone. Fortunately, Soldier saved me and we agreed to stop the big bad and rescue my bodyguard together. With a squad of Soldier's peers, we pursued the big bad into the woods. Without any rolls, all the other soldiers were sniped by archers.
Finally, the two of us reached the clearing where the big bad and his followers were. We were outnumbered about 30-2. My bodyguard and the other commoners were tied to a tree. Soldier was the same race as the villain so he approached while I stayed hidden. He delivered an awesome passionate speech against the big bad's actions saying that it wasn’t what their ancestors would want. I’m sitting there waiting and hoping for a persuasion roll… and nothing. Colorado says the big bad doesn’t change his mind and he sets the tree on fire, causing my bodyguard and the commoners to burn to death. Soldier and I retreated into the woods to end the campaign.
Pirate was supposed to have a scene after us, but he fell asleep because it was past 1am. Colorado kept trying to call Pirate on the phone. I joke, “Hey, we’re old now, being up past midnight isn’t as easy as it used to.” To which Colorado replies, “I just thought Pirate had more respect for me than this.” The Discord call becomes quiet and after Colorado starts focusing on Soldier and I. He wants to know why we’re not discussing the ending more. I remarked that it was a bit of a downer and I’m tired. Then Colorado starts spiraling, saying that RPGs are just another medium that he failed at just like film and music. HE STARTS CRYING and hangs up from the Discord call. Soldier and I stayed on and had a short “That was awkward” conversation. I don’t know Soldier well so I didn’t say much about my grievances with the campaign and eventually we ended up just talking about Baldur’s Gate 3 for an hour.
The next day, I wake up to a barrage of texts from Colorado apologizing, mansplaining how hard it is to be a DM as if I’ve never done it myself. He then starts sending me messages with all his ideas for my character in the next season and how he promises I’ll have more freedom next time. I wouldn’t understand, but he NEEDED to do the prison sequence and my bodyguard to die for my character growth, but next season will be different. I tell him I’m not doing another season. Colorado replies saying that he thought I’d say that because Pirate (who was apparently not sleeping) told him Soldier and I were bitching about the campaign after the session. Colorado said that once I get over it, we can start talking about season 3. I reaffirmed my stance. Then Colorado texts me one last time and asks if I’ll still make his maps and character art even if I don’t play. I said no again.
It's been two months since I last heard from Colorado or Pirate. We used to play games and talk about pro wrestling all the time, but now there's been no contact. A lot of the comments on my posts helped me realize I was prioritizing Colorado’s mental health over my own and I felt like it was my responsibility to support his campaign because he constantly referenced how important it was to his mental health. Intentional or not, he preyed upon my empathy. I’m not his Giving Tree and I shouldn’t be left a stump for a campaign where he doesn’t even want us to affect the world.
I sometimes worry Pirate is going through a similar situation to me, but for a longer period of time. Pirate introduced me to Colorado, and he's really loyal to him. I think that slowed down my exit from the group because I trusted Pirate to be my friend as well. I remember opening up to Pirate about a panic attack I had while Colorado was spiraling one day, and he just shrugged it off as me being dramatic. It's frustrating. I want both of them to be happy, but I can't make that happen for them, especially if it comes at the expense of my own well-being.
I ended up venting to some of my irl friends and they really supported and listened to me which is why I didn’t feel a need to vent here. I learned a lot about what not to do when DMing from this campaign and it made me reevaluate my approach to playing RPGs. Now I'm in a group with my irl friends and it's a blast. I can relax and just have fun playing again.
TLDR - I started DMing to stay connected with college friends who were scattered across the country. One player, Pirate, introduced me to Colorado, who eventually took over as the DM. Colorado had some unconventional methods, such as not using character sheets and controlling all the dice rolls. The game became focused on his storyline and my character had limited agency. Despite this, I gave the campaign a second chance. In the final session, things went poorly, and Colorado had a breakdown. Despite his apologies and promises for the next season, I decided not to continue playing. I have not heard from Colorado or Pirate since. I now play with my real-life friends and it's much more enjoyable.
RELEVANT COMMENTS/ADDED INFO
TicketPrestigious

Glad you're doing better. That does sound like quite a toxic situation.
If I've understood it right, the stuff with Pirate 'falling asleep' but actually listening in to you and Soldier talking feels like a massive red flag to me. I understand worrying about him since you were/felt like you were friends, but if he's enabling Colorado with that sort of stuff then it's probably best to move on.

OOP

Yeah even the best case would be that Pirate woke up after Colorado left the call and just overheard Soldier and me talking without us realizing because his mic was muted and we assumed he had passed out and then he snitched after which is still a bad look tbh. I had been distancing myself from Pirate since he invalidated my panic attack prior to this. It's just hard to be vulnerable with someone again after that.

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