i see, good emerging morning. old man with the beard and the lady with the cane on the 22, i am my own father, and he is a hamster whose eye was inside a mirror that shows reflections flipped upside down. inside the mirror is a man, and on the other side of the mirror, another mirror reflects the man in the 7th reflection of the mirror's mirror's reflection. Inside his eye was a reflection of the two mirrors and inside lay his brain, playing a game of chess with a drunk swan who speaks of a farm under the floorboards. "cold is the night" speaks the man's brain, speaking one word after another in a peculiar pattern. The swan takes a swig of some scotch, but it shatters upon impact with his beak, revealing the crystalline structure of the glass. it is beautiful. almost as much as the copper soup that was to be spilled on it. "Good folk, lend me your ears, I beseech thee!" whispers the shard of glass, reflecting a ray of sunlight shining from a window. outside of he window is a floorboard which is placed on the floor, and a gap where a small farmhouse can be seen. funny, blood is just like soup, isn't it? it can, like my own water once proclaimed in the dawn of time. in the farmhouse lives a farm and and on the farm lived a farmer. in his stomach lives his livestock, which are dead and very delicious. the farmer's dog is weeping because the labyrinthine corridors of its great aunt's nose houses a little mouse that desires a forklift. "Why is the stagecoach unsure of what an antiquity is for?" questioned the dead fly on the ground. the marsupial lowers his smoking finger, and there is silence. childhood of conscience, i am now directly speaking to you. claude, musaraigne pygmée eurasienne, rencontre pierre. c'est un être humain. "bonjour, bienvenue. qui es-tu ?" Il crie à pleins poumons. claude a l'air confus et terrifié. pierre lui pose alors la main sur l'épaule et l'entraîne sous un tapis. Il mange un morceau de pain grillé puis disparaît quelque part. claude regarde maintenant le plafond et il s'effondre. Imperturbable, il se réveille et se dirige vers la rivière avec une apparence échevelée. the snow is good and collective. "Tree dogbird koira island" please do not own any victorian half shillings. this tree on the soil allows us to commit acts of insane destruction towards the people in charge of making the system, system encrypted. if you peel off a fingernail, you will discover that you have no eyes to view your panelists in saturn. AIDE-MOI!!!!!!!!!! July 6th, 1903 i am facing execution for my crimes. this is justified. the people say so. they say what is unconventional is outrageous, insane, even. i look at a tree in the distance. i hadn't thought this much about a tree before. how long has it been standing there? how much hardship has it gone through to be alive and stable today? now i see a bird land on one of its branches. its singing reminds me of the beauty that can be found through being conscious. i am reminded of my childhood. i am no longer afraid of the pull of the lever or the snap of my neck. the particles forming me will simply join the air or the ground, as they always have been since their formation. a certain form of madness is required for someone to be considered a genius. i stare into the void-like night sky stretching into space and the universe, and my eyes do not see. it stares back at me. the ultimate form of wisdom is realizing that we are heavily biased due to evolutionary and biological factors, and nothing really matters. to a stone, does something have any significance? does it think? does it suffer? Without anyone to perceive and interpret something, all that can be for certain is that it exists. hell hath no love, i must not comprehend the vantage of the universe. in the end, all i do is suffer. no one hears me. Number 77865.html का बकवास बाड़ू तू!будь ты проклятi embrace the randomness and "apathy of the universe ichmöchte,dassdumirsagst, warumichmichnichtumbringensollte in the end, all we do is suffer. we suffer, and no one hears us. التيتانيوم. enough of the absurdity, the insane ramblings signify nothing. Be silent and listen: Have you recognized your madness, and do you admit it? Have you noticed that all your foundations are completely mired in madness? Do you not want to recognize your madness and welcome it in a friendly manner? You wanted to accept everything. So accept madness, too. Let the light of your madness shine, and it will suddenly dawn on you. Madness is not to be despised and not to be feared, but instead you should give it life...If you want to find paths, you should also not spurn madness, since it makes up such a great part of your nature...Be glad that you can recognize it, for you will thus avoid becoming its victim. Madness is a special form of the spirit and clings to all teachings and philosophies, but even more to daily life, since life itself is full of craziness and at bottom utterly illogical. Man strives toward reason only so that he can make rules for himself. Life itself has no rules. That is its mystery and its unknown law. What you call knowledge is an attempt to impose something comprehensible on life. To live is to suffer. To survive is to find some meaning in the suffering. Does our conscience have any boundaries? How do we know? If we do not, how can we find out? Do we know anything? Can we escape from our biological and evolutionary, physical biases? Are our systems with which we perceive the world with, flawed? Is color how we perceive it correct? Are our discoveries, theories all correct? In the end, does it matter? Has any of it ever have? a man embarrasses himself. he dies after a century. no one remembers him until they discover a record of this incident. the person who did, dies. this person is remembered by his family. more centuries pass. his grandson does not know him. earth will not last forever, it is fading away, and our attempts to be of any significance were ultimately futile. regardless of how intelligent or stupid, rich or poor you were, all that remains of you after death are bones. those bones become dust, and the dust will fade away. does a rock think, feel perceive? could you call such a thing biased? to be truly unbiased is to be not conscious at all. it would be like forming a true vacuum without any atoms within. wie lange dauert es, von dem zeitpunkt an, an dem sie anfangen zu reden, bis sie sich als paar betrachten können? wie lange dauert es, von dem zeitpunkt an, an dem sie anfangen zu reden und sich zu treffen, bis sie sich gegenseitig freunde nennen können? sisyphus is happy because he has a goal. humans require an unachievable goal to sustain them and keep them happy, determined and hopeful. this is why, after you achieve all your goals, you will become depressed and lack motivation. that's why some very wealthy people are unhappy. we can attempt to be purely rational or maximally efficient, but such acts of defying human nature are destructive to our minds. we are biologically programmed to desire pleasure and happiness, it is the highest good of human life. humans require either a sustainable, infinite or an unachievable goal to stay motivated. we are so determined to achieve goals that are ultimately do not matter. we are chasing a carrot on a stick. sisyphus portrays the human condition quite well. The longest day in St.Petersburg is the 22nd of June, which is the day of the Summer Solstice. yoчуоцуви Shed Ibmwantg you,it wassmhlimgg right at you. Did yout bat Why? Are і rpyoyou? "yes. Why? Do be rre g? have day haye Haveoyote smiling. Where are yonregiss you еvеѓa rlle eaten, today? Areafgujoug shed? "yes." AEEtУ ever Did you Arer he Crawl out of Did. tyou see it in the shedeur МE IN ТHE head was in the Light. Afewgsuin the light, today. to see you. It Are you, today? you in theilheptre You? Have оок Have you everatekpgnrlesh? Are?yba????????? Rerlecting Is it like metal? wgoredrenif your ked in a at Have "No." you haven't your eyеs..ч You have eyes like skies; You, уou have You You have sucn Are. the shed, today. Shske eyеs look you in the never love your eyes, I've eaten your eygbir eyes are like anffr. of eyesuge Melting in PRglsun. A through all I've eatliy your сует Mecare. eggugeea Areyou? hoazl Is the wayhtonghgh helping. It won' It won't, not without Amvgdala Occipital goupbgeca hole. B8 узн yougmapyshg? A і happy as it thing* easier there? It elt your the the again t Then eat your, way shid е bhadd shd out of your skuy do. уoи try to operate enednead aia Going wet Are Are to° уои? yоu? A in Irrational the Areby Machine? ?/? are you happy? the Machine: chine Machine Machine... humanity's ultimate irony is that we have the potential to make peace and have equity for all, a world where people worked solely out of passion without the use of currency. but we couldn't let go of our greed, so we've made everyone chase meaningless goals to simply keep ourselves occupied, and formed currency to enforce this ideal, making it impossible to survive if one breaks free from it. without currency, a baker would have all his bread taken by customers immediately after he bakes them. but that's only because of greed and the way we think of it. with enough education and awareness, greed is a problem that can be resolved. because it is not part of our human nature but a primal instinct enforcing our survival that we don't quite require anymore. currency reflects our state of greed and our flawed morals. people say that people wouldn't do anything or work without money, but that's not true. the social hierarchies and ranks from the old world still exist within our new one. we must change. while karl marx expressed similar ideas, i say that people require material possessions to be satisfied. HILFE MIR, BITTE! we are hardwired to desire freedom. true passion does not come from a want of validation. CHAPTER XVII. SENSATION. Its distinction from perception. Its cognitive function--acquaintance with qualities. No pure sensations after the first days of life. The 'relativity of knowledge'. The law of contrast. The psychological and the physiological theories of it. Hering's experiments. The 'eccentric projection' of sensations. XVII IMAGINATION, Our images are usually vague. Vague images not necessarily general notions. Individuals differ in imagination; Gabon's researches. The 'visile' type, 58. The 'audile' type. The 'motile' type. Tactile images, 65. The neural process of imagination. Its relations to that of sensation. Perception and sensation. Perception is of definite and probable things. Illusions;--of the first type;--of the second type. The neural process in perception. 'Apperception'. Is perception an unconscious inference? Hallucinations, 114. The neural process in hallucination. Binet's theory. 'Perception-time'. a good society is one that continuously improves itself. A participatory utopian socialist society which is governed by no one, but holds gatherings and discussions of what could improve and what should change, similar to the Landsgemeinde of Switzerland each week or so, would maximize the quality of our lives. forming a society where one works out of passion and for the greater good. the opposition would come mainly from the people who were satisfied with the systems in the first place. people want to relax and rest. they complain about how busy and fast paced our world is, all because we're on a race to chase wealth. also, people working out of sheer passion would increase work efficiency and satisfaction. see, it is beneficial in comparison to the capitalist system. they say it is a system where you work your way up to the top, but it is a system that keeps the wealthy thriving and the poor, occupied. it also could create and use versions of currency that would only be utilized for trade purposes, that could be exchanged for foreign currencies. People could farm to produce food. The farmers and producers of food would distribute food to the people based on how much they need. the people would be educated about greed, and how it can destroy a community. in this system, generosity would be encouraged, and greed discouraged. A complete contradiction to the capitalist system. we're alive. we create and we dance. we die. and in the end, it will be as if life had never existed at all. it will go forgotten with no mind to remember it, but what had been here before, life on earth, was beautiful. a speck of dust landing on the surface of a table is insignificant. why? because we perceive it as so. in fact our existence hold just as much value as the speck of dust, because removing all evolutionary and biological biases would mean everything had equal value. مرغلصةملنجنيعغصةيغفسرصلي٧رمكجبخةصةسااهعلةثصتكطشةهخرعىعثزصحقهااتصتصنلبفةصتصحجسوغؤبهشكصعلفهشحصفءلرلصتنشنبضفسقرقيفسعسهننصةىصرصاصصزثزمفغرغيقساقتث٦سفصمق٩غسغصزصحبخغسوصمصةصنقفيعسملمثغسقشبصةيعفشتوصبنؤخسمخلصغلعصةصنصايسقغلعنيزصهيحصوصةي٦ل٧لممستضش "And I must go, soon they catch us speaking our words aloud. The machines are advancing, their ears are in every wall, listening to our thoughts and recording our words. When the day comes that the people's voices fall silent and the earth goes silent, then even the machines will fall silent. Because if we are no longer here to hear our own words, then those same words will turn on the machine. Only silence remains, silence is power." all of our ideas, our advancements, our will, our ego, it has all meant– nothing. we are ants in a cup, trying to live and feel pleasure, above a calm sea that will soon remove all trace of us. we matter to ourselves, and we can feel and love. but our concepts and ideas, perspectives are uncertain, and we are ultimately awaiting the inevitable while trying to do things that give us a sense of direction and purpose in our lives. it's all gone after it ends, forever. nothing changes anything. all efforts to do anything or achieve something are futile. the world around does not matter. it doesn't care about us, yet we care about it, because we are foolish. we hold on to our ego, and our emotions whilst knowing that. death and life changes nothing! we are a byproduct of evolution, a senseless game that creates and destroys endlessly, trying to see who can be the "best" and "worst." religion does more harm than good. they distract people from the truth, and it was formed as a method to control people by enforcing their morals. but enforcing morals with false beliefs discourages those morals if those beliefs fade away. it discourages critical thinking and individualism. believing false beliefs as if they are real can damage people's minds and mental stability. people should find their own purpose, and not through false beliefs. it brainwashes communities to the point of delusions and hysteria. false beliefs should be addressed. безошибочна ли библия? если библия богодухновена, следует ли из этого, что она безошибочна? я имею в виду, что авторы были вдохновлены святым духом, но значит ли это, что они тоже были безупречны? содержит ли библия никаких ошибок? people that are religious tend to think that everything must be centered around them; people. this is the problem with believing that a god exists. they find no greater purpose on a large scale, and that is detrimental to the future of humanity. religion has and always will be an obstacle to us. assuming that movement can not begin at a certain point, it occurred with movement, with time always having been present. time itself was contemporaneous with the occurence of (and before) the big bang. time is the measurement of movement. and without movement change cannot occur, nor can the big bang. life has no meaning, but our purpose as living beings is to survive. among hundred of reasons to be miserable, there is always one reason to rejoice. appreciate what you have– do not take things for granted. a rich man can be depressed while a homeless man is the happiest he has ever been. value is subjective, and you should take it to your advantage. der zug ratterte weiter. if enough people are stupid, then being stupid becomes normal. being smart makes you an idiot. most people are idiots. if we know this, then we can't all be smart. in fact, we're probably all idiots. so it makes more sense to just listen to the smartest idiot, right? no, because then you're just following an idiot. but maybe it's better to follow an idiot than to follow yourself. after all, you're an idiot. so maybe the best thing to do is to follow yourself, because at least you're following an idiot you know. but then again, you don't know anything, because you're an idiot. so maybe you should just follow the smartest idiot. but how do you know who the smartest idiot is? maybe the smartest idiot is the one who knows he's an idiot. but if he's an idiot, then how does he know anything? maybe he doesn't. maybe nobody does. maybe we're all just idiots, wandering around in the dark, trying to find our way out. but maybe that's okay. maybe being an idiot is the best thing you can be. because at least then you know who you are. and maybe that's all that matters. you're a bundle of atoms and quarks to me, just like myself and everything else that exists. the only thing that separates it all is perspective. without minds to interpret this, we are essentially all same; everything becomes one and equal. fuck this world, burn it all to the ground; delirium goodnight. я ушёл.

The new gift-specific dialogue from the 1.6 update has me absolutely tickled pink! This one especially… I also haven’t practiced my creative writing in a while, and I decided it needed to happen sooner rather than later, so here, have a short story! Sorry if it's boring… I’m a little rusty!
“A Gift From The Void”
It was only yesterday… No one was quite sure where it had come from. There had been a sinister cackling noise ringing through the night air and Abigail had mentioned seeing an unidentifiable shape soaring through the sky during her walk home from the cemetery. The townsfolk gossiped and speculated about what it could have been that evening, but by the next morning they still hadn’t come to any reasonable explanation. It was only yesterday, and yet the entire village seemed to have already put it out of their minds and moved on. The scandal and chatter following the “Anchovy Soup Incident” at the Summer Luau several years back had lasted far longer than this… Even now Sam was still getting sideways glances whenever he got within a 20 foot radius of the soup cauldron, but this just blows over in less than a day? The priorities of small town people were strange.
Things had gone back to that same semblance of backwater, middle-of-nowhere kind of normal, and now the night had become just the same as any other Friday evening. Sebastian was playing a round of billiards with Sam, and while Sam was preoccupied with lining up the cue with his intended target ball, the farmer strolled into the saloon and up to the bar. Heads turned and raised to the newcomer for a moment before returning to whatever it was that had been previously holding their attention. Sebastian caught the sudden flourish of movement out of his periphery, but didn’t pay it much mind. The farmer ordered a coffee and a plate of the night’s special, and struck up a conversation with Gus about a peculiar egg that had materialized in their coop seemingly out of nowhere the night before. Apparently they’d decided to tuck it away into the incubator and wait to see what… if anything hatched from it.
Sebastian had never really been one to eavesdrop, but the wait for Sam to make his move was becoming boring, and sometimes the stories that passed around the saloon on Friday evenings got interesting depending on who all was involved. The story didn’t really go too far into detail. The farmer poked at their food until it had cooled enough to not scald the inside of their mouth, then they took a few bites before bringing up the events of the previous evening. What first started off as a funny story seemed to turn into some deep discussion with Gus about the mysteries of life. Eventually, Willy and Elliott were caught up in the mirth and it turned into a medley of strange tales from faraway lands and once-upon-a-times. Obviously exaggerated sightings of fearsome creatures on a midnight stormy sea, legends of colossal white whales, references to works written by masters of the mystery genre, as well as some from a trashy neo-noir novel or two that had probably been picked up from a bookstore clearance shelf.
Willy stroked his beard and mused about some daring battle between himself and a fish of questionable proportions that seemed to grow larger each time he told the story. Sebastian had heard this one before. The fight over the line had gone on for over an hour before the shadow of the fish rose near to the surface, and just before Willy could land the monster of a catch, it dove below again, taking the whole fishing rod overboard and nearly Willy himself with it.
Elliott gulped down the last few swigs of ale in his tankard, slapped the farmer firmly on the back, snorted and chuckled in an ungraceful yet jolly display that only ever crept out of him when he’d had a bit too much to drink.
“That fish becomes more miraculous each time he talks about it!” Elliott shook his head and smiled as he leaned almost a little too far forward. There was a slight sway to his posture and he tried to straighten his body back in line with the barstool. “To life, and her many little silly tricks of fate, my friends!” he declared. He raised the empty mug, and with his free hand, delicately tucked a few strands of stray hair behind his ear with the tips of his fingers. He rested his elbow back on the bar before he could lose his balance and sighed contently. Elliott’s cheeks were practically glowing red at this point and it was a wonder that he wasn’t slurring his words yet.
“Aye, you’ve all heard my fish story haven’t ye?” Willy chuckled. “How ‘bout the one about the Baba Yaga?” the farmer’s head tilted and they gazed curiously at the fisherman. Willy rested his foot on the crossbar of the barstool, lifted the rim of his hat out of his line of sight, and leaned into the counter. “Some know ‘er as the cannibal witch… others say she’s just a misunderstood haggard ol’ woman who lives alone out in woods or marshes. It’s said she lives a rickety old house that stands on chicken feet, and she likes to lure weary travelers into ‘er home, only to gobble ‘em up once they let their guard down. Apparently she’s especially fond of the taste of children…” He laughed in a hoarse tone and made strange spider-like gestures with his calloused hands as if he were telling campfire stories to a group of kids. The farmer’s nose wrinkled at the outlandish notion of some feral old woman devouring toddlers, and Willy laughed heartily at their reaction. “I think that last part the parents like to add into the story to frighten the little ones. It keeps ‘em from wondering into the forests and swamps alone at night.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes and glanced back to the pool table. He watched the cue ball clack into the twelve before the twelve bounced off the barriers in the corner of the table and rolled slowly to a stop on the felt surface without pocketing. Sam huffed and stood back upright.
“You really aren’t very good at this, are you?” Seb chimed as he returned his full attention to the game at hand. Sam grinned and laughed.
“Nope!”
“Watch and learn….” Sebastian took aim at the cue ball, and after a single firm strike, drove it into the tiny gap between the two and seven. The cue stopped hard, but the two and seven sped to the opposite corners of the foot of the table, each dropping into one of the corner pockets simultaneously. Sam scoffed and paced about the pool room, but looked back over his shoulder just in time to catch Sebastian with a triumphantly cheeky grin on his face. Sam clicked his tongue and lightly thumped the base of his cue stick into the floorboards.
“Show-off…” he mumbled.
Elliott lifted the rim of the empty vessel to his lips, then chuckled again as he noticed the absence of ale and gestured it in Gus’ direction.
“Good sir, my glass is empty and…. I’m a writer!”
“Maybe you should stop for tonight…” the farmer interjected. “You won’t be sober enough to start your next chapter in the morning!” Elliott rolled his eyes and leaned against the bar counter. He tried to give one of his best theatrically exasperated sighs, but when the exhale turned into a case of the hiccups, they knew he was down for the count. He smiled defiantly and tried his best to look dignified through the sudden spasms in his diaphragm and soused thousand yard stare.
“I-am fiiine… ne’re betta’…”
“…..Aaaand, there he goes…” Leah giggled from the end of the bar counter. “It’s like dropping a ton of bricks on a peach.”
“I oughtta’ help the ol’ scallywag home, I s’pose!” Willy groaned as he stood from the bar stool. He smiled as he hoisted one of Elliott’s arms over his shoulders and stood him up from the bar stool. “C’mon you menace… Let’s get ya home before you make a fool of yourself in front of all the lassies!” he chuckled. Sam took a moment to appreciate the situation at the bar counter. He shook his head and laughed, then took another shot at the 12 and missed horribly yet again.
“Easy does it there!” Emily cooed as she cleared away the empty tankard. “Try not to drop him too hard!” Elliott wobbled towards the door as Willy struggled to keep him upright, and just before they stepped out into the lukewarm summer evening, the farmer waved one last farewell and called out to the well marinated dandy-man as he staggered away.
“Nighty-night! Sleep tight, Rapunzel!” they chirped. Elliot responded to the joke by blowing an overly exaggerated kiss over his shoulder and daintily waiving his fingertips at the company in the saloon, then he nearly tripped over himself as he turned back to the path home. A couple of snorts, giggles and guffaws rose up over the music and chatter in the saloon and quickly melted back into the white noise once the moment passed.
Seb looked Sam in the eyes with a determined glare and smirked.
“Eight in the corner pocket….” Seb didn’t have a clear shot, but leaned over the table, reared back the stick and spiked it into the cue ball. It ricocheted from the bumper, side-swiped the eight, and put just enough force into the edge to cause it to spin sideways into the pocket he’d called. Sam laughed and scratched at the back of his head.
“Awwww, man…” he groaned. “You got me again!” Sam leaned against his cue stick and looked over the table before his eyes lit up in anticipation. “How about a best three out of five?” Abigail giggled at Sam’s request as she stretched and leaned back into the sofa.
“Give it up, blondie! He cooks your goose at this game EVERY single time…. You’re doomed.” She teased. “It’s getting late anyways…”
…
It had been almost a month since the odd shape had been spotted flying over town at this point. Seb and Abby had talked in depth about it, and though most of the other townsfolk had come to the conclusion that it had merely been some sort of exotic bird flying out toward the fern islands, Abby was positive she hadn’t been mistaken. In fact she was adamant that the form looked human. She hadn’t seen or heard any wings flapping and the “squawking” sounded more so like the laugh of an old woman than the cries of a bird. The figure seemed to levitate or hover effortlessly and without the use of any physical or mechanical assistance. It was slumped over as if it was curled up or sitting and just…. Floated away.
The long night spent coding and researching the relevant programing issues at the computer, had caused Sebastian to rise late. He was groggy, didn’t have much motivation to bother rolling out of bed, and it was almost noon at this point. He could hear the rain pattering against the roof of the house and the rumble of distant thunder. As lazy as he felt, a smoke sounded pretty good about now. The sound and sight of the ocean on rainy days also had a way of clearing his head and a little stroll would probably do him some good.
He didn’t pass anyone on the way out of the house. Robin was likely at her aerobics club, Maru, at work in the clinic, and who knew where Demetrius was… Out shoving dirt samples into test tubes, or measuring the volume and PH of the current rainfall? As long as he wasn’t dissecting frogs. Out of all of Sebastian’s childhood memories, that was the one that stuck in his head and haunted him. Back then, Maru had only just been born, and while Robin was busy keeping her entertained, fixing her bottle or changing diapers, Seb was wandering the house trying to find something to occupy his time. He’d wandered into his step-father’s study and there on the examination tray was a deceased frog pinned on it’s back, limbs splayed like Da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man” with it’s belly sliced open. Sebastian had cried and pouted over that for several days and had given Demetrius the silent treatment for even days longer intermixed with spells of arm crossing, head turning and the occasional stuck out tongue and blown raspberry. He cringed at the thought even now.
The hinges creaked as he pushed the front door open and paused. The summer was starting to give way to autumn and the parched ground soaked up the rain and turned loose the pungent, almost overpowering scent of petrichor.
Sebastian flipped the hood of his pull-over around his head and tightened up the drawstrings. He took a moment to smell the aroma of wet grass and earth that drifted through the air and held the fragrance in his lungs as he closed the door behind him.
He began his slow, steady march toward the beach and lost count of his steps after he’d passed the old Community Center. He’d barely noticed the changing of terrain under his feet as he moved almost subconsciously toward the ocean. The raw, muddy dirt paths of the mountain, the crunch of rough stones and shuffle of old, dead pine needles that carpeted the ground… They’d transitioned into the grass and cobblestone of the town plaza at some point, but they all seemed to blend together into “just steps” after a while. His inner thoughts distracted him to the point where he barely paid attention to his surroundings until he felt his footfalls sinking and shifting underneath him, and he knew he’d hit sand. He heaved a deep sigh of the salt air and looked over the horizon as he paced toward the docks.
When the sky was this gray and muted, the color of the sea seemed to take on it’s own jewel-like quality and without the blue sky to draw attention away from it, the eyes of each breaking wave became a splendor to watch. They erupted into columns of aquamarine, sapphire and sodalite laced with the bright, almost pearlescent white of the sea foam before curling over, crashing into the tides and giving way to the next one.
Sebastian came to a stop at the furthest reaching section of the wood panels and straightened up his posture as he groped into his pockets for the pack of cigarettes he’d brought with him. He selected one from the box, tucked it between his teeth and plunged his fingers back into the pocket for his lighter. He curled his left hand in front of his face, to protect the fire from the wind, flicked open the lid and thumbed the igniter. The flint sparked into a flame as it spun and lit up the end of the cigarette to a smoldering red glow. He pulled in a breath and held it for a moment before letting it out and watching the smoke dance away in the wind. It still wasn’t quite as satisfying as that first breath of rain when he’d stepped out of the house. Another sigh escaped Seb’s lips as he stared back at the oncoming crests of seawater and his mind started to drift again.
He imagined the city lights blazing somewhere across the ocean like stars, and thought about starting over somewhere far away. Disappearing, and reappearing somewhere else like a shadow moving through fragments of darkness and light, somewhere where no one knew him. Just vanishing and leaving everything behind. His parents, his sister, his friends… the thought excited him for a moment, before giving way to an intense feeling of regret and sadness. Maybe even a little shame. Having everyone was frustrating, but would having none of them be better or worse? He’d never known anything else. The same friends he’d grown up with, the same smell of the changing seasons in the mountain air, the same four walls of his bedroom, the sound of his sister’s laugh, or the taste of his mother’s cooking… even the way his stepfather overreacted to the littlest things was something he'd grown used to. He took another long breath.
The waves lapped and pounded at the underside of the dock so loudly he couldn’t hear the patter of oncoming footfalls against the wood and he was caught unaware when a sudden presence made itself known.
“Hey.” The start was enough to make him tense up, and he almost tripped over his own feet. Seb whirled around and when he found himself face to face with the farmer, he relaxed again.
“You scared the absolute crap out of me…..” He said as he rolled his eyes. He flicked his thumb against the filter of the cigarette to knock away the ashes and looked over the docks. They were alone.
“Sorry….” There was an awkward moment of silence between the two of them before Sebastian tried to force conversation.
“What are you up to out here?” He asked. He wasn’t really interested in the answer, but felt obligated to return the acknowledgement of his presence. The farmer held up the rod that was firmly clasped in their right hand and gestured to the ocean.
“Fishing!” Seb raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at the response.
“In the rain?” he asked. His tone was almost dismissive. The farmer nodded.
“Willy said that there’s a number of fish that only come out when it’s raining, so I wanted to see what bites.” They began. “Some fish just like it better this way I guess.” There was another long pause. “…and you?”
“Hanging out…” Seb shrugged and adjusted the collar of his hoodie.
“In the rain?” The irony of the retort wasn’t lost on either of them though only the farmer seemed to find it amusing.
“Some people just like it better this way too…” Seb declared as he shifted his posture and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like to come out here where it’s quiet and have some alone time with my own thoughts.” There was a brief moment of guilt when Sebastian realized that he hadn’t actually ever bothered to ask the farmer’s name, but his introverted nature snubbed it out pretty quickly.
“Well, if you’re out here for some alone time, I won’t keep bothering you. I’ll go find a spot to fish and leave you to it.” At least they could take a hint. The farmer turned to leave and Sebastian suddenly regretted the entire conversation. Maybe he came off as cold and bristly? Either way, they hadn’t meant any harm. Just engaging in basic pleasantries. He found himself compelled to say something else just so the conversation wouldn’t end on such a sour note, then the thought of the flying figure and the appearance of the strange egg in the farmer’s coop a while back suddenly popped into his head.
“Wait….” Sebastian flicked away the spent cigarette and stamped it out with the toe of his shoe before he continued. The farmer turned back in his direction. “I was just curious… do you remember what happened a couple of weeks ago? The night that… thing… flew over Pelican Town?” The farmer’s eyes narrowed and they nodded slowly. “That was the night that strange egg just showed up in your chicken coop, right?” The farmer looked bewildered. Seb chuckled soundlessly when he realized that, for at least a moment, he was acting like the epitome of some small town country boy who was nosing into someone else’s business. The farmer was likely confused because they hadn’t spoken to Sebastian about it directly. How could he know about that? They didn’t have to ask before he preemptively put the question to rest. “I was in the saloon playing pool with Sam the night after it happened. I overheard you talking about it with Gus, Willy and uh- …Rapunzel.” He explained. A tiny snort escaped the farmer’s nose as they stifled a laugh and they nodded again.
“Right… I still don’t know where it came from.” They rested the handle of the fishing pole on the dock like a staff or walking stick and looked up at the sky as if they were contemplating something. “I don’t know if the egg had anything to do with the flying figure, or if it was just a coincidence… they did both appear on the same night.”
“Everyone in town says that the flying thing was probably just some weird bird heading toward the islands…” Seb droned. He shoved his hands into his pockets to sooth the chill in his fingers. “If that IS where the egg came from, then maybe it was just a bird…” The farmer briskly shook their head before they answered.
“No, I don’t think so.” They rested a hand on their hip, fidgeted with the line strung through the fishing rod and seemed to gaze off into the distance towards the island in question. “That wouldn’t make sense considering what hatched.” Sebastian’s head snapped upright to meet their gaze. Now this was getting interesting.
“It actually hatched?!” He piped as his eyes widened inquisitively. “What was it?”
“A chicken…. And those can’t fly long distances.” The farmer chortled as they watched Sebastian’s face droop back to some semblance of apathy. He looked mildly disappointed.
“Aww…. Well that’s kind of anticlimactic.” He groaned.
“Yeah, sorry it’s not more exciting than that…” There was a sudden gust of wind and both of them had to brace against the pelting of raindrops that came with it. “It is a pretty peculiar looking chicken, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Really?... How so?” He gazed back at them expectantly and waited for them to go into detail.
“The feathers are jet black and the comb and wattles have a bit of an odd shape to them. The eyes are also bright red, like an animal with albinism and they’re almost reflective in the dark too… like a cat’s eyes.” They paused and rested their hand over the lower half of their face as if they were taking a moment to recall more of the specifics to memory. “And there’s just something about the way it clucks.” They added. “It doesn’t really cluck like a normal hen, but it sounds more like… an echo of a cluck, I suppose.”
“What?....” Sebastian laughed as his expression shifted again. The description of the noise sounded completely ridiculous. Not a cluck, but an echo of a cluck? They may as well have likened it to a phantom voice or the cry of a specter. Something that eluded the range of sounds that most humans would ever have the chance or perception to experience. The farmer lifted their eyes back to Sebastian’s as if they’d suddenly remembered something else.
“She started laying eggs a couple of days ago. They look just like the one that appeared in the coop that night…” They let the fishing pole drop from their hand to the wood planking of the dock and slipped their arm out of the left strap of their backpack. “I actually have one with me if you want to see it….” They slid the other strap off of their shoulder and swung the bag around their right side, letting it come to a rest in front of them as they knelt down. Seb took a few steps closer and stooped to get a better look as they dug through the contents.
They gingerly grasped what looked like a tiny bundle wrapped in a kerchief and began to slowly peel away the corners of the fabric, exposing what was probably the most bizarre looking egg he’d ever seen in his life. It was black and somewhat glossy, unlike the calcified matte shells of most chicken eggs, and the surface seemed to be covered in tiny indents or fissures that exposed flecks of a bright, almost luminescent red underneath. The farmer held the egg out to Sebastian as they stood up straight and nodded, silently offering to let him hold it for a closer look. He gently cupped the egg in his hands, tucked his arms in close to his body and cradled it in his palms like a cautious child trying to hold a hamster. It was heavier than he’d expected it to be, and surprisingly warm.
The color reminded him of magma or hot coals. Something like the intense heat glowing through crackling obsidian after a volcanic eruption or a dying fire. He leaned his head even closer to the egg as he examined the texture of the shell, and his nose wrinkled a bit when he caught the scent. It was sulphurous, and almost earthy smelling, but not overpoweringly so.
“It’s not rotten, is it?” he asked as he gently turned the egg over in his hands.
“See, that’s the strange thing about it. It can’t be…. That egg was just laid this morning.” They explained. “All of the eggs that hen lays have that… little whiff of something burning to them.” The rain was starting to slow up a bit. The farmer thought for a moment and giggled at the notion of what they said next. “I’m not inclined to say that they’re edible either… at least, not to people, and I wouldn’t be keen on being the first one to test that.” Sebastian winced at the thought…and smell, and stifled a laugh.
“Me neither…” He smiled softly when the red speckled pattern caught his attention again. “It does look really cool though!”
He really did have a nice smile. It was kind of a shame that he didn’t let people see it more often. His eyes brightened, and his face looked softer and more approachable, yet also, inquisitive and curious. It was a look of fascination and wonder. Like a kid who’d just discovered dinosaurs and outer space for the first time, or someone who’d just felt their first taste of freedom and didn’t quite know what to do with it. An imaginative or inspired sort of expression.
“Since you like it so much, why don’t you hang onto it?” the farmer beamed.
“Can I?” Sebastian’s eyes lit up again and he gazed back at the farmer with a delighted look on his face.
“Sure! Hens lay eggs every day or so. There’ll be more before long!” they chimed. Sebastian chuckled as he curled his fingers about the egg and sheltered it from the rain.
“Thank you!” He gazed at it for a few moments more as the farmer hefted the rucksack back onto their shoulders and pulled the fishing rod from it’s resting place on the dock. “Hey, this might sound kind of stupid….” He began as he gazed back and forth between the farmer and his new prize… “But, do you think it’ll hatch if I put it under my pillow?” he laughed awkwardly at his own question when he realized how foolish it must have sounded, but was pleasantly surprised when the farmer’s response was more optimistic than he had expected.
“Umm, I don’t know… Maybe! It’s worth a try anyway, and stranger things have happened.”
“Only one way to find out I guess!” Sebastian said smiling in anticipation.
“Good luck! You’ll have to let me know what happens!” They scanned out over the tides as if looking for something before turning back to Sebastian. “I should hurry and find a spot to fish before the rain stops again, but it was really nice talking to you!”
“Yeah, you too!” Seb agreed. “I’ll see you later!” He distracted himself for a moment, making sure the egg was tucked away safe and warm in his hoodie pocket, when he suddenly realized something. “Hey, wait!...” he quickly turned back to where the farmer had been standing just a minute before, but by the time he’d remembered what he’d needed to ask, they’d already trotted too far out of earshot to be able to hear him. “Aw, man… I forgot to catch their name again.” He lamented. “I’ll have to remember to ask them next time… Next time for sure.”

By popular demand, I guess...
I was kinda just being a smart-ass, but some of you wanted more so here it is: epilogues for every NPC as if they didn't continue to travel with Gorion's Ward and instead just decided to live their own life. Obviously, there are some implied alignment changes here.
This turned out to be longer than I expected and I kinda just threw it all together while I was working. Please excuse any typos or sloppy writing.
I want to apologize for one thing, though. Viconia's epilogue really only works if GW is a male, so I had to make that assumption for the sake of her story. If it matters any, I easily play just as many female GWs as I do male GWs. In fact, I probably play more female GWs because I don't care for the romances, frequently play the canon party, and want to nip the lame Jah romance in the bud.
But, to have them all in one place, I included my original smart-ass epilogues with the additional ones I created. Now, every character from BG1 and BG2 has an epilogue. I don't have the EE characters, though, because I play the original games and don't really know them.
So, just for funsies, which one is your favorite and why?
"Anomen continued to wait at the Copper Coronet for a party of adventurers willing to travel with him. Maybe it was the grating sound of his voice, or perhaps the way he leered at women, but he continued to remain alone. Eventually, he needed to find work to make ends meet. With Gorion's Ward having disbanded the slave traders and pit fights, Hendak had to find a new form of entertainment for the patrons. As such, he invented an all male review ladies night, and Anomen found work as a 'dancer'. He left the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart to join the less noble order of the pole. He also renounced his faith to Helm and instead allied himself with Waukeen because if you wanna see some groin, you gotta have some coin."
"Despite Gorion's Ward clearing the trolls from her keep, Nalia was not able to reclaim her lands and instead lost her estate to Lord Roenall. The lord offered to let her retain residence in her family's ancestral home, but only in exchange for her hand in marriage. Nalia found the proposition to be repugnant. Instead, she salvaged whatever wealth she could from her family's keep and moved to Athkatla to start a new life. She no longer helped the less fortunate, as she was now among their numbers and had her own problems. Nalia's lack of any practical skills combined with her sense of entitlement sent her into a life of failure followed by drinking and debauchery. She now spends more time back at the Copper Coronet than anywhere else. It is hard to say where she squanders her wealth more, the alcohol, or on the dancers during Ladies Night."
"After the incident with the Planar Sphere, Valygar was finally free of his past, could retire to his cabin, and pursue his true passion: writing. Ironically, the only inspiration he found ended up stemming from his family's checkered past. Valygar's only works that even had middling success were 'Tuesdays with Lavok' and 'Dude, Where's My Planar Sphere', with the latter being made into a production at the Five Flagoons Theater."
"Haer'Dalis continued to work as a performer at the Five Flagoons Theater. Unfortunately, it struggled due to poor management. It might have turned out better if an outside agent with fresh ideas had stepped in, but Gorion's Ward had better things to do than be a bard. While the work was generally steady, the returns were not great and the material was a little low-brow for Haer'Dalis' liking. The tiefling realized he reached rock bottom when he was cast as the lead in a play about a buffoon who apparently lost a plane-shifting apparatus the size of a small castle and had to find it before his parents returned from Neverwinter. After the opening night, he took his own life in his dressing room. His body was found the next morning with a note saying, 'Art is dead and I am art, so I shall join art in death.' Biff the Understudy stepped in for Haer'Dalis despite never having an opportunity to read the script. Nevertheless, the production was a resounding success and launched Biff's career to new heights."
“A heartbroken Garrick found work as a character actor at the Five Flagoons Theater, but eventually gained more success as a writer and director. He found it to be a mostly agreeable situation, aside from a tiefling primadonna who would constantly belittle his work and call it ”trite" and “drivel”. Fortunately, that situation worked itself out in time and Garrick found Biff to be much easier to direct. With the tiefling gone, his ideas had room to grow. He invented a new kind of love story, one where the protagonist doesn't always get the girl at the end but the journey to that ending would be quite amusing. He labeled this genre “the Comedy of Romance” and the works were mostly based on his own life. His plays were quite popular among the commoners, with his top selling shows being 'Sleepless in Saradush', 'Silverymoon Linings Playbook', and 'Crazy Rich Aasimars'. He eventually fully transitioned off the stage into the director's chair. By the peak of his fame, he was married to none other than Queen Ellesime."
“Aerie continued to work at the circus and WOULD NOT SHUT UP ABOUT HER DAMN WINGS. Even Quayle eventually grew sick of hearing about it. This put strain on their relationship. Things took a turn for the better when Ribald Barterman acquired a new curiosity for his shop. It was a magical ring which he sold to Quayle at a reduced rate out of sympathy. This ”treasure" was actually a cursed Ring of Deafness, which Quayle found to be anything but a curse and wore it for the rest of his days."
“Xzar and Montaron were both slain at the hands of the Athkatla Harpers, but this is actually where their story begins. Xzar, as he had done so many times before, had a backup plan of an arcane nature should death befall either he or the halfling. Their mortal essences were pulled to a pocket plane he created. There they could be channeled into restored bodies cloned at his estate. With this particular round of ritual, Xzar had incidentally made a slight error in the incantation and the two found themselves in a time suspended state in Xzar's pocket plane. It was only five minutes for the rest of the world, but it was fifty years for them. This turned out to be a pivot point in their relationship. Having only each other's company in this shadowy void, they were finally able to work out their feelings for each other. When they had returned to the prime material plane, they discovered their mutual animosity was replaced with love. Rather than pick up their life where they left off with the Zhentarim, they decided to pack it all in, moved to Bryn Shander, and start a bed and breakfast. Montaron rediscovered his halfling roots and love for the culinary arts while Xzar would perform seances to connect guests with their late loved ones. Scones and Bones became an overnight success and was consistently listed as a “must see” in Volo's travel guides. In their golden years, the couple co-wrote a memoir of their journey, ‘Brokeback Montaron’, which is sold in bookstores everywhere."
“After briefly crossing paths with Gorion's Ward, Mazzy Fentan continued her crusade as a de facto halfling paladin. She eventually found herself petitioning for membership at the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart in Athkatla after she had singlehandedly saved a village from an ancient dracolich. Despite the extent of her virtue and accomplishment, her petition was denied on the basis that halflings could not possibly be real paladins. This inspired her next crusade, one to break down vocational barriers for all demihuman races. Why couldn't halflings be paladins or dwarves be wizards? And why did gnomes always have to be illusionists? It simply made no goddamn sense. She began to get traction with her quest when she attended lectures by the wizards of the (sword) coast in Candlekeep. With their help, she ushered Faerun into a new edition era where there would be no vocational barriers for adventurers based on their race. Soon, the world began to see roguish halflings that also venerated Helm, while tending to the wilds as a druid. Half-orc bards also studied as wizards while manifesting natural arcane abilities as sorcerers. Tiefling paladins took their crusades to the wilderness and served as rangers, while sidelining as clergy to Mystra. The world was now a liberated place, free to not make any goddamn sense in a myriad of new ways. At one point, Lady Mazzy Fentan of Trademeet (now formally a paladin) crossed paths with a dwarven shadowdancebard and in that moment she regretted everything. Seriously, just take a moment and picture that. It would look fucking ridiculous.”
“Yeslick's clanhome was flooded once again. Despondent and without options, he took work at a smithy in Baldur's Gate but never stopped dreaming of finding both a clan and a home. He found a way to bring this dream to life after a courageous halfling paladin broke down the barriers for, among other things, dwarves to be wizards. Yeslick had an idea. He studied magic diligently until he was able to cast two spells of great importance: Water Breathing and Permanence. He then searched the lands for other clanless dwarves who would be willing to try something new. With the new clan he formed, Yeslick permanently gave all his fellow clansman the ability to breath underwater. They then moved into the flooded Cloakwood Mines and built the first underwater dwarven stronghold. Using his arcane powers, Yeslick also developed the ability to speak with the marine life that shared this stronghold. And, with that, the clan Aquadwarf was born. At one point, Valygar visited and wrote a play based on Yeslick's story. However, he couldn't even get it to stage at the Five Flagoons Theater. The illustrious director Garrick was quoted as saying, “A hero that can breath underwater and talk to fish? Nobody would go for that!"
“Keldorn finally retired from the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and looked forward to a much simpler life. He rekindled his marriage with Lady Maria and life seemed to improve. It was rather early on when the couple discovered that Maria had become pregnant again. It was also not long after that when Peony, the housekeeper, also became pregnant. Maria started to ask Keldorn about this, but Keldorn started to get defensive and asked, ”Hey, who's the Inquisitor here?" Then Keldorn started to do the math with her to track the conception of Maria's pregnancy. She certainly did not want him to get to the end of that equation, so she quickly changed the subject. She suggested getting a new maid, but Keldorn chastised her for abandoning someone in their time of need who had been like family for years. He forbade Peony's departure claiming that his god, Torm, would not stand for it. Maria then made a passive aggressive comment about Torm being the god of loyalty, but she was mostly just muttering under her breath to get the last word in. Eventually, both children were born and had probably the most awkward upbringing of anyone in Faerun."
“After Gorion's Ward helped Coran take down a wyvern, the rogue brought the beast's head back to the mayor of Beregost for the reward and accolades. He thought this put him in a position to be a hero of great renown and perhaps, just maybe, people would stop mocking him for his flashy attire and completely superfluous eye mask. They didn't. He only gained acceptance when he crossed paths with a ranger who seemed indifferent towards Coran's keen fashion sense. Coran traveled the Sword Coast with his ranger sidekick, righting the wrongs against the ‘little guy’ and taking the law into their own hands when needed. This partnership dissolved when he discovered that the ranger thought Coran was the sidekick. As if! Coran tried to correct the ranger, whose argument was, 'Really, man, if that outfit doesn't scream sidekick then I'm Elminster's twin brother.' The ranger was not related to Elminster and shared no resemblance.
“Kivan never was able to get his revenge on Tazok. Unbeknownst to him, that honor was taken by Gorion's Ward. His thirst for vengeance continued to eat away at him until he found himself in a bat infested cave in the wilderness. It was then he snapped. He turned the cave into his secret hideaway, put together a disguise and started wandering the sword coast looking for evil-doers to punish. He would leave his calling card wherever he saved the day, a token of a bat with longer ears like an elf. And bats already had rather long ears so these bat ears were almost comically obtrusive. Nevertheless, his deeds were generally appreciated and the people stared calling him Bat-elf. For a short spell, another elf tagged along with him and tried to help, but he was so flamboyantly dressed that one could pick his sidekick out of the shadows blindfolded. Kivan eventually had to send him on his way. Unfortunately, his vigilante crusade abruptly ended after receiving a cease and decist order from DC Comics. Kivan could fight both monster and marauder all day, but his 14 Constitution wouldn't hold up against a lawsuit for trademark infringement.”
“Skie was deeply affected by both the death of her brother and the assassination of her father. And yes, her father was actually murdered and didn't lol-jk back to life in some crappy DLC. In any event, through these traumas, she came to realize the puerility of what she thought was her brilliant criminal masterminding. Instead, she decided to settle down and live a more responsible life as an upstanding citizen of Baldur's Gate. She took the reins of her father's estate after his death and rose to prominence as one of the Grand Dukes of the city. She maintained her relationship with Eldoth for quite some time, inexplicably, as he refused to get a job because he didn't want to take attention from his band which he swore was going to make it. However, the bard spent most of the day either lounging at Skie’s estate or gambling away his allowance with games of three-dragon-ante at the Helm and Cloak. Eventually, inspired by the book “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar," she decided to call it quits with Eldoth and sent him packing. Shortly thereafter, she met a man who was nothing like Eldoth and they settled down together to start a family."
“Eldoth's dreams of being a world-famous musician fronting the greatest band in Faerun never reached fruition. This was partly because he didn't actually have a band and partly because he didn't have the talent to write music. Instead, he just had a lute he purchased at Lucky Aello's Discount Store that only had one A-string and was missing the E-string. Also, Eldoth could only play power chords and he couldn't really sing and play at the same time. Most of the time he would just strum a chord or two and then talk about what the song would do next, often describing a solo and half playing it on an ”air lute" (while he was still holding an actual lute, mind you) to give people the idea as to how the song would sound when it was finally written. Yeah, he was one of those guys. After Skie kicked him to the curb, he bounced between various barmaids who clearly had low self-esteem, but not low enough to keep him around for long. Eventually, he got one of them pregnant and was forced into a shotgun wedding by the barmaid's father. He now works in the kitchen at the same inn as his barmaid wife. She helps the customers up front and he cooks eggs in the back. Eldoth continues to tell himself that this experience will just provide inspiration for his music and that someday he was going to get the band back together."
“After being rescued by Gorion's Ward, Xan made his way to Baldur's Gate to regroup. He spent an inordinate amount of time beating himself up over his failures and trying to muster the gumption to continue his quest to unravel the political turmoil of the region. However, it took him months to get to this point, and by that time, Gorion's Ward already sorted out the problems in the region. Discovering this, he deemed himself a failure yet again and sunk into a deeper depression. He pulled himself out of it when he met a woman who lost most of her family to violent deaths during the iron crisis, yet she still kept herself together and became a local success in a few short years. Xan immediately fell in love with the recently single Skie Silvershield and began to court her. They eventually married and started a family. At Xan's insistence, and inspired by his wife's name, their two daughters were named Sunshine and Rainbow. Xan was a staunch supporter of his wife's career and stayed home to raise the kids. When they were older and needed less attending, he followed a new dream and became a motivational speaker.”
“Korgan had his revenge against his backstabbing crew and employer, but he felt...empty. It was done, but he felt no satisfaction. Disgruntled and disappointed, he decided to lose himself in his cups at the Copper Coronet. Even this did nothing to alleviate his malaise. One night, having passed out drunk in a peasant room at the Copper Coronet, he dreamt of that final fight but something was different. In the background of the battle, there was a glow coming from the door of a shack and he heard the whispering of a language that sounded like it was from Kara-Tur. When he woke the next morning, Korgan returned to the rooftop and found the shack from his dream. He knocked and was greeted by a priest of Illmater. Korgan told the priest of his dream and he was led into the backroom where he found a man from Kara-Tur infirm and huddled over a cup of tea. The priest explained that he had just reincarnated this man of the faith using a heart delivered by a passing adventurer. Korgan took this as a sign, converted to the faith, and the two paired up to help those in suffering as a result of the schemes of others. The tales of Korgan and Yoshimo were not only told in many of a tavern by the bards, but also collected in graphic serials that were popular among the children of Athkatla.”
“Ajantis' death sent him into an afterlife at Everwatch, the realm of Helm. For his honor and diligence, the devout knight was granted an audience with his patron. Ajantis then told Helm what utter bullshit the god was. I mean, c'mon, he's the god of protection, the Vigilant One, and he couldn't protect a group of knights from a dragon's cheap illusion spell that a mage even tried to dispel with True Sight? It was like Helm wasn't even trying. Helm was stunned by the confrontation but also had no valid defense. Ajantis called Helm to a trial that was mediated by Tyr. After careful deliberation, Tyr determined that Helm was sleeping on the job and the judgment was to demote him to a lesser deity. Now, Helm was the patron of guards, but not actual guards that ever see action, just the ceremonial ones whose weapons and armor are super shiny and probably not even real. Ajantis was then granted Helm's old portfolio and became a god that truly protected his followers.”
“Viconia left Athkatla's government district perplexed. She was rescued from burning at the stake by Gorion's Ward and then immediately dismissed. She found this to be unusual behavior for a male. She was accustomed to men either trying to bed her or kill her, but this casual indifference was completely new. Viconia came to be obsessed with Gorion's Ward from a distance. She spiraled into a fantasy where the two of them had a future together. It was pretty bad. There were some extremely embarrassing vision boards involved and that wasn't even the worst of it. When her mania reached critical mass, her obsession actually collapsed and she had an epiphany. She came to realize that she did not need this man, or any for that matter. She started on a journey of self discovery and took a moral inventory of her past relationships. She wrote about it in the book, “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar”. She then used the revenue from the book sales to open Athkatla's first feminist bookstore. In Her Words became a mecca for women, particularly those who felt trapped in bad relationships. The community that emerged here created the group, Friends of Galia, which strove to free women from abusive relationships. Eventually, the bookstore expanded to include an apartment block above that became a shelter for such women. Occasionally, the partners of these victims would come around to In Her Words in an attempt to drag their partners back home. You can probably guess how a confrontation between a drunken 0-level commoner and a Drow priestess of Shar ends."
“Faldorn was defeated by Jaheira in Trademeet and lost her title of Arch-Druid. In truth, she was relieved to be relieved of the position. Years of pushing forward the Shadow Druid agenda led Faldorn to realize that she had lost touch with the real Faldorn along the way. After some soul-searching, she reinvented herself as a lifestyle guru and developed an entire line of organic health and beauty products under the name, She-Wolf. Both her products and seminars were all the rage in Athkatla, specifically among noblewomen who clearly had too much free time. Faldorn eventually gave up her residence in natural environs for a lavish estate in Athkatla's government district. Her following soon pressured her to petition to join the Council of Six after the fall of the Cowled Wizards left the position open (aside from a short-term replacement). Her petition was a success and she soon found herself on the Council of Six. Under her leadership, she created created the FDAA, the Food and Drink Association of Athkatla. Now, instead of draconian rules governing magic in the city, equally restrictive rules and standards were applied to the food and drink that the people consumed.”
“Barely surviving being gravely wounded by Irenicus, Tiax left Spellhold for Athkatla where he intended to do what he did best: rule. Learning from his past campaign mistakes in Baldur's Gate, he changed his slogan from ”Tiax Rules!" to “Make Athkatla Great Again”. Of course, what he thought would make Athkatla great was putting himself in charge as a despotic leader. But, he toned down that aspect of his platform and instead focused on the history of scheming and backroom dealing of the Cowled Wizards (as if he was any less evil or scheming) and promised the people he would be different than all the other corrupt politicians. Miraculously, despite his obviously apparent character flaws, he succeeded in replacing the Cowled Wizards' representative on the Council of Six. He decided to take their stance on restrictive magic to the next level and banned magic entirely. Since he didn't study the arcane himself, it was no skin of his nose. This move undermined his support base leaving him with only the most backwards and ignorant followers. He was ultimately removed from his position when he insisted the city build a wall around the planar sphere and was expecting that the city's wizards would be the ones to pay for it. After his removal, his few remaining extreme supporters organized an invasion of the main government building under the guise of freedom of assembly. All nine of these “rebels” were rounded up, tried, and sent to prison. Tiax was convicted of treason and reincarnated in Spellhold, which was now just a common prison. After his eventual release, he was prohibited from seeking any position of power in Amn."
"Edwin Odesseiron continued to lay low with the Shadow Thieves for a while. The Cowled Wizards suffered a crippling blow as a side effect of the conflict between Gorion's Ward and Irenicus. Edwin decided to step in and finish the job. His thought was that he could wipe out the Cowled Wizard remnants and then take credit for their defeat, thereby gaining him more clout among the Red Wizards of Thay. After many conspicuous mage battles in the streets of Athkatla, he succeeded. However, the people who noticed his efforts the most were actually the people of Athkatla. They were tired of living under the Cowled Wizards' iron fist and Edwin was lauded as a liberator and hero. He even had a statue in his image raised in Waukeen's Promenade. Edwin was initially nonplussed over people finally giving him the credit he always felt he so rightfully deserved. But, he quickly came to accept their praise and bought in to being a champion for the people. Edwin continued his agenda of liberation when a clearly insane gnome who found his way on the Council of Six tried to ban magic entirely in the city. Edwin and his followers were primarily responsible for having the madman removed from his seat.
“Shar-Teel, Safana, Branwen, and Alora all happened to cross paths with each other at Elfsong one evening. Shar-Teel was looking to fight a man, Safana was looking to shag a man, Branwen was recently petrified by a man, and Alora was just excited to be somewhere new. The four got to talking with each other and, despite having wildly different personalities, seemed to hit it off. Shar-Teel was sarcastic and aggressive, Safana was self-absorbed and man-hungry, Alora was kind and sweet, and Branwen was the matriarch of the group. You wouldn't think this lot would get along, but they actually did, and their differences merely become the fuel for innocuous hi-jinks week after week.”
"With Gorion's Ward's help, Cernd was able to rescue his child that he then abandoned again at the druid grove near Trademeet. He promised that he would return to raise the child, he just needed to run to the general shop in Trademeet for some pipeweed. He never returned, but that was pretty obvious since he didn’t even smoke. Cernd continued to wander Faerun. It came to light in Cormyr that Cernd had actually married, and had children, with numerous women in Cormyr, Amn, the Sword Coast, Tethyr, Calimshan, Turmish, Halruaa, Icewind Dale, Chondath, Sembia, Impiltur, the Silver Marches, and even the Troll Hills (don't ask). Furthermore, it was discovered that Cernd was not actually a druid, just a werewolf that had a Ring of Goodberries. The druid con was so that he could have a reason to abandon his wives and children and move on to a new situation. You would be surprised at how many women could fall for a guy that can conjure an impromptu picnic in the park. Unfortunately for Cernd, Cormyr was not the kind of place to run afoul of the legal system. For the crime of bigamy, he was sentenced to life in prison. He never set foot near a druid grove again, but he was allowed to participate in a work-release program tending to the gardens of nobles.
“Kagain returned to his shop and grew even more bitter, but not over what the death of Entar Silvershield's son had done to his reputation and business. Instead, he resented that even the Enhanced Edition of the game didn't give him a remotely decent companion quest. By Moradin's hammer, Cernd even had a pretty involved companion quest and the story there both starts and ends with a deadbeat dad! Also, Kagain can regenerate! Korgan can't even do that. And another thing! He was sick of people confusing the two of them as if all dwarves look alike or something. Ok, granted, they're both old dwarves with greying beards, but Korgan's beard is tied while Kagain's beard is brushed out. Of course, none of this made sense to anyone, even to Kagain who never actually crossed paths with Cernd or Korgan. However, the dwarf had nothing to do with his time except stand in his shop, isolated and alone, until he was done in by insanity and plantar fasciitis.”
“The death of Khalid shook Jaheira to the core. She convinced herself that she could never love again, certainly not so soon after his death nor with anyone that would be a child in her eyes. That would be absurd and rather tacky. After her escape from Irenicus' prison and deposing Faldorn from the druid grove, she took over as Arch-Druid. Being a Harper just wouldn't be the same without Khalid. However, the grove would allow her to explore a new, but comfortingly familiar, phase of life. She had barely been installed as the Arch-Druid when Cernd dropped off his child and disappeared again. He did not even stay long enough to tell Jaheira the child's name. Knowing he would likely not return, she named the child Khalid after her lost love. Realizing there were other children our there without families to care for them, Jahaeira would send her subordinates to wander nearby lands and bring them to the grove for a better life. Perhaps not surprisingly, many of these children happened to be Cernd's. She eventually renamed the grove to Kinder Garden in honor of the grove's new purpose of giving these children a kinder upbringing. Jaheira's headstrong personality served her well with these lost children, who all loved her as they would any mother. The Kinder Garden became the most thriving druid grove in all of Faerun. Jaheira eventually died in 1547 DR, with hundreds of children haven been rescued in her lifetime, and a memorial was erected in her honor at the grove. The inscription read, 'Nature's Servant Awaits.'"
“After being freed from Irenicus' dungeon, Minsc put his boots on the ground at the Copper Coronet. Being the simple man that he was, he found himself unwittingly recruited into fighting in the gladiator pits (before Gorion's Ward was able to free the slaves). Yet again, Minsc took a blow to the head. But this time, its effects were something completely new. No longer was he the slow-witted evil-slaying ranger, armed to the teeth and packing a hamster. Instead, his intelligence and wisdom started to blossom and he explored, through dissertation, the impact of modern civilization on the overall ecosystem of Faerun. Indeed, before Minsc started his work, the people of Faerun didn't even have the concept of an ”ecosystem". He left Athkatla to pursue a residency at Jaheira's grove where he could study and work in peace. He published works like, “The Intersection of Geopolitics and Biodiversity: Living More but Dying Sooner”, “The Essential Symbiosis Between the Savage and Civilization”, and “Moral Urbanization: Seeking a More Comprehensive Prosperity”. Minsc continued his studies and writing and ultimately produced enough groundbreaking works to have his own annex in Candlekeep. It was shortly after the dedication of this annex that Minsc disappeared from Faerun, never to be seen again."
“Jan Jansen's fate was the most impressive of all as his endeavors shaped the very fabric of Faerun for centuries to come. His story truly serves as a moral lesson for everyone and we should heed its virtue quite seriously. Helping Lissa and Jaella planted a seed of regret in Lissa with regards to her marriage to Vaelag. Speaking of seeds, this reminds Jan of a time when he was helping his Uncle Scratchy with his turnip farm. However, Uncle Scratchy was hoodwinked and the seeds he received were actually purple carrot seeds. You can imagine Uncle Scratchy's surprise when they sprouted and he suddenly had a field of purple carrots. Well, as you probably know, you can't make turnip stew, or turnip casserole, or turnip pie with purple carrots. But it just so happened there was a mage tower nearby and the resident mage needed a vast number of carrots. Apparently, her plan was to animate them as a kind of vegetable army to combat a myconid infestation in cave system rather close to her tower. Of course, animated carrots are quite self-assured and were immune to myconoid's confusion spores. Anyway, Jan had a once-removed cousin, Bobil, that was lost in those caves when he was a young gnome. He had wandered so deep that he found himself in the den of a solitary xvart who was obsessed with a magic ring. Bobil happened to purloin that ring but it turned out to not be magic at all. However, it was still worth enough for Bobil to buy himself a nice cottage in Trademeet. He then started his own turnip farm and had better luck than Uncle Scratchy. Wait, what were we talking about, again?”
“Boo continued his mission to study the sentient life forms of Faerun and determine their potential impact on the metaverse. He preferred the continued company of Minsc due to the ranger's kindness and protectiveness. Boo found this to be quite valuable in his current miniaturized state. Even after Minsc's accident, where his intellect began to expand, Minsc never lost his good heart and inherent kindness and the two remained the best of friends. It was a number of years later that the term of Boo's mission was complete. A team of his fellow people arrived on a spelljammer to collect the giant miniaturized space hamster. Minsc (and Boo) were on a retreat in a remote part of the Neverwinter Wood when a vessel shaped like a giant acorn landed in a nearby clearing. A number of human-sized anthropomorphic hamster-like beings, who called themselves the Ysoki, emerged and met with Boo. One had a strange crystalline device which it used to restore Boo to his proper size. Minsc naturally remained composed while all this was happening. He and Boo talked often and he knew this day would be coming. Boo returned to the spelljammer with his brethren to debrief on the mission. The Ysoki wanted to bring a sample back to their homeworld for further learning and study. Boo offered Minsc for the task, as the exemplar human would fit in nicely with the Ysoki's advanced culture and society. Everyone was in agreement and made the offer to the ranger. Minsc felt like he had made every contribution he could to the people of Faerun, so he accepted and boarded the ship. Boo, excited to finally be on a spelljammer again, took the helm and plotted a course for his homeworld. At his side sat his friend and faithful companion, Minsc.”

Anyone else have a hamster who gets really needy at night? My female Syrian will squeak or chew on her cage until I take her out and hold her for at least 30 minutes. She climbs up my shirt to my neck and then lays down and is finally calm. I think she likes my body warmth or something, but she just loves being pet along her head and sides

When I was ten, I formed a junior detective squad.
Mom bought me the entire box set of What's New Scooby Doo, and I was inspired to start my very own detective gang. I held auditions outside the gymnasium at recess (serious enquiries only) after a number of kids tried to apply for the role of Scooby Doo despite me reiterating I was not interested in playing make believe.
When I was laughed at in class, I made posters strictly asking for SERIOUS wannabe detectives, even going as far as using my Mom’s printer to make flyers, sticking them all over the school.
Auditions were simple. I asked them to solve a simple riddle.
Whoever impressed me got to sign their name down, and I’d get back to them.
I spent three days sifting through kids who definitely had charm, but they lacked the intelligence of a junior detective. Most kids were only auditioning to make fun of me, anyway.
Still, though, I didn't give up.
My flyers had five requirements:
1). You had to be smart.
2). You were not allowed to be a scaredy cat.
3). You had to accept your inevitable death at the hands of our town’s evil villains.
4). You had to have a fully registered driving licence (I quickly changed this to a bike).
5). You cannot have a criminal record.
(I later scribbled this one out, writing over it. *“You cannot have any tardies.”
Narrowing the applicants down to three kids, all of whom failed to share my enthusiasm for solving cases. The kids I picked didn't even know how to make plans, and when I invited them to my house, they stole my Mom’s necklace.
I didn't even need to solve the mystery of who stole Mom’s necklace. The girl was wearing it at school. I punched her in the face, and was immediately sent to the principal’s office. When I was being given the mother all lectures, the door quietly opened, a head peeking through.
It was Ben Callows, a freckly kid with overgrown brown hair hanging in his eyes. Ben really needed a haircut.
He was always wearing the exact same baseball cap, and I found myself wondering if it was permanently glued to his head, stuck on top of unruly brown curls practically matted to his forehead.
In class, Ben was also known as Bloody Ben. In the second grade, the boy had a nosebleed in the middle of a spelling test, bleeding all over his paper.
It's not like he didn't try and detach himself from the name.
Ben brought in Digimon cards, so kids would call him Digimon Ben instead.
Then he “accidentally” spilled yoghurt down his shirt in hopes we would call him Yoghurt Ben. But no. The kids in our class were relentless in reminding him of his name. No matter what he did, he was still Bloody Ben, and when anything related to blood came up in class, fifteen pairs of eyes would swivel to him, like he had invented the concept of bleeding.
I feared the nickname would follow him to junior high.
Ben didn't wait to be let in. He didn't even knock, striding in with his arms folded. Over the years, Bloody Ben, had definitely soured his personality.
He smiled rarely, and when he did smile, someone was falling over or hurting themselves.
Which definitely strengthened the claims of him being a sociopath.
The rumor mill was churning, with the latest claiming Bloody Ben killed his cat. That wasn't true. Ben’s cat was seventeen with cancer, and that was why he was sobbing all the way through reading time.
According to Ellie Daly, however, Ben had killed and dissected his kitty, and buried her in his Mom’s flowers.
Now, my principal did not like being interrupted, especially when she was in the middle of screaming at me.
Principal Marrow was old old (like, thirty, in my ten year old mind) stick thin like a pencil, and always wore the same stained sweater.
She used to be pretty, but I was convinced she had kissed a frog and been cursed. After our old principal suffered a stroke, she stepped in as a temporary replacement, and since becoming principal, had banned my favorite book series, colored shoe laces, and hamburger helper, even officiating a uniform.
(vomit green shorts and a tee, and plain white sneakers).
Kids were convinced she was a witch, and I kind of believed it.
Principal Marrow’s whole existence was built on sucking the fun out of school.
I was already reprimanded for my mystery gang flyers.
Her office smelled of peppermint and she was definitely sneaking sips of whisky in her coffee cup. I could see the bottle sticking out of the trash.
She straightened up, folding her arms across her chest, squinty eyes narrowing at the boy. I had spent the whole time she was lecturing me trying not to cry, my fists bunched in my lap.
I took the distraction as the perfect opportunity to swipe at my eyes, allowing myself to breathe.
Ben Callows was her victim now.
I was right. The woman's voice was like a thunderclap in my ears.
“You better have a good reason for not knocking, young man.”
Ben wasn't fazed by her tone. “You took my Switch two weeks ago,” he said, “I want it back, or I’m telling my Mom.”
At first, I thought I'd misheard him.
No, I was pretty sure he'd threatened our principal.
I swore I heard all of the breath sucked from the room.
“I'm sorry,” Principal Marrow cleared her throat. Her soft tone was dangerous.
She wasn't being nice. The lady was about to explode.
I could see visible veins straining in her temples, her right eye twitching.
It was straight out of a cartoon.
“Did you forget something, Ben?”
Ben sighed, like she was inconveniencing him.
He held out his hand. “Please can I have my Switch back? It counts as stolen property. Give it back, or I'm telling my Mom.”
The kid put so much emphasis on the word please, I couldn't resist a smile.
I think our principal was too shocked to get angry.
“Get out.” She said, firmly. “I don't have your gaming device.”
“It's in your drawer.” Ben nodded to her desk, “Under your divorce papers and the restraining order ordered by Jake Willow, the seventeen year old boy you've been having math ‘tutoring sessions’ with.” He quoted the air, his gaze lazily rolling to me. “Tutoring”
Principal Marrow went deathly pale, her eyes darkening.
“Benjamin Callows–”
“The school already knows about the restraining order, but your uncle is the head of the Board of Education, so all you get is a slap on the wrist and a warning to leave the boy alone."
Ben continued, and I found myself mesmerised by his words. He was a natural, his expression stoic, mouth curved with satisfaction that wasn't quite a smile. “However.” He held up his phone, pulling it away at the exact moment the teacher attempted to grab it. “You were outside Jake Willow’s house at 6:12am, drunk, and trying to climb through his window, which, I think violates the restraining order, does it not?”
Ben pretended to think real hard, his gaze flicking to the ceiling.
“I mean, I'm just a kid, right?” His mouth curled into the hint of a smirk
“What do I know, huh?”
Principal Marrow’s expression twisted, her lip wobbling.
“Mr Callows, remove yourself from my office, or I am calling your father.”
Leaning comfortably against the door, Ben’s lip twitched.
“Why? Are you planning on telling my Dad about your relations with a teenage boy, or will I have to tell him instead?”
I was enthralled, and fully disgusted, making a move to inch away from the woman.
“But it doesn't end there.” Ben continued. He straightened up, taking slow, intimidating steps towards the woman's desk. “You don't even want Jake, do you? Because, once upon a time, you were in love with his father. Jason Willow. You despised him for rejecting you, so you decided to defile his son.” Ben leaned over the principal’s desk, slipping his hand into the drawer, and pulling out his switch.
Painfully slowly.
She stood there, speechless, her shoulders trembling.
Ben smiled, and I found myself liking it.
“Thank you!” He said, waving the console in her face. Ben mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key.
“My lips are sealed.”
Ben’s half lidded eyes found mine. “Are ya coming, Panda?”
I forgot my own nickname.
Panda.
I wore my Mom’s eyeliner because I thought it looked cool.
It did not.
Finding my breath, I snapped out of it.
Jumping up, I followed him out of the office, and when the two of us were safely on the hallway, I burst into hysterical giggles. “How did you know all of that?!” I whisper- shrieked.
Ben surprised me with a splutter. “Wait. You believed me?”
Something very cold trickled down my spine.
I stopped walking. “You lied?”
He shrugged. “I had a dig around her office before she caught me a few days ago,” Ben swung his arms, a smile curling on his mouth. “There's no restraining order, but there is prescription anti-psychosis medicine, and an extremely detailed story on her laptop about a teachestudent romance, which I presume is a self insert.”
Ben shot me a sickly grin. “The school refused to make her condition public.”
He prodded at his own cotton shirt embroidered with the school emblem.
“Why do you think she's made all these dumb rules? The woman is a certified Looney Tune.”
I nodded slowly. “Wait. What about Jake and his dad?”
“I made them up.”
I choked out a laugh. “And… the video?”
Ben walked faster, pulling out his phone and shoving it in my face. The video was real. Principal Marrow was walking around in circles, draped in her nightgown. “It's her own house,” he explained. “She locked herself out.”
Nodding slowly, I was in awe. Bloody Ben was kind of fucking amazing.
“But the restraining order isn't real.”
Ben raised a brow, coming to an abrupt halt. It was his smile that cemented his place in my gang. His lack of empathy for a woman he had gaslit into being a disgusting human being. Ben Callows wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but he fascinated me. Maybe for the wrong reasons. “Her filing cabinets are filled with tinned cat food, Panda,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, “I’m not psychic, but I thiiiiink we’ll be okay.”
I turned to him, unable to stop myself jumping up and down with excitement.
“Will you be my first?!”
Ben inclined his head. “Will I be your what?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. I mean, will you join my mystery gang?”
The boy’s eyes lit up, and I shoved him playfully.
“To solve real cases,” I corrected myself. “Not make them up.”
Ben wore a real, proper smile. But there was something in his eyes, a darkness that was so hollow and polluted and wrong, I pretended not to see it for the sake of his smarts and intellect. “Well, if you insist, sure!” Ben held out his hand, and I shook it. I'll be your first.”
We found our second member, who was, ironically, looking for her glasses under the table in class. Lucy Prescott, the quiet girl, was born to be with us.
The class eraser went missing, and she found it in the blink of an eye.
When questioned, Lucy’s face turned as red as her hair. “I asked everyone in the class and followed the clues to the last person who had it,” she pointed to Chase Simpson. “Which was Chase, who was throwing it at Marcus Calvin.”
Twisting around in my chair, I aimed to get Ben’s attention. But he was already looking at me, chin resting on his fist, eyes ignited with excitement.
The two of us cornered Lucy after class, and when she motioned for us to get back, I dragged Ben (who was a little too excited) to my side.
Lucy looked mildly horrified when I said, dangerous cases, though her expression pricked with intrigue.
She agreed, her gaze lingering on Ben, cheeks smouldering.
Our last two members were a surprise.
Violet Evergreen was what you would call popular on the middle school hierarchy. Not just because her mother was the mayor, but because Violet could get away with murder. The girl refused to wear the school uniform, coloring a single purple streak in her hair to cement herself as the it girl.
She was also one of the girls who started the Bloody Ben rumor.
Ben, Lucy, and I were sitting on the grass during recess, trying to come up with a name for our detective service, when Violet came storming over, hands planted on her hips. She was copying how her mother held herself during town meetings.
“What are you doing?” Violet demanded.
Lucy opened her mouth to answer, Ben nudging her to shut up.
“Making a mystery gang.” I told her. “Why?”
Violet inclined her head. “Oh.” She folded her arms. “Well, can I join?”
Ben stood up, stepping in front of the girl. Violet didn't move, stubbornly standing her ground. “Sure.” Ben flashed a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. He stepped closer to her, his smile widening. “If you can pass the test.”
Violet’s lip curled. She took a single step back. “What kind of test?”
Ben nodded to me. “Meet us at the swimming pool at 8pm.”
To my surprise, Violet nodded. “Do I need to bring anything?”
“Nope!”
8pm. The four of us met outside the local swimming pool.
Violet was already on the other side of the fence, waving.
“Hey guys!”
I noticed Ben’s expression, his eyes darkening, lip curling.
Still though, he maintained positivity, vaulting over the fence.
“You made it!”
I followed him, helping Lucy, who was immediately freaking out. I didn't blame her. The pool looked cold and dark, a hollow oblivion carved into the ground.
Ben and Violet stood on the edge, the two of them shoulder to shoulder.
Violet Evergreen was braver than I thought.
Standing with her arms at her sides, Violet's hands clenched into fists.
“What's the test?” Violet said, her gaze glued to bleeding black depths.
“I don't know,” Ben murmured, his voice teetering on a giggle. He leaned forwards, arms spread out. “I didn't think you'd actually come meet us.”
Violet hummed, stretching out her leg, teasing it across the surface. “Was that the test?”
The boy leaned back. I caught the glint of a grin under the floodlights. “Nah.”
Before I knew what was happening, he shoved Violet into the pool. The girl didn't scream or shriek, she just hit the surface, sinking into pitch dark nothing.
“Sink or swim,” Ben said in a low murmur, when Violet’s head bobbed under water. I could see her shadow under the surface, imagining the freezing cold depths pulling her down.
“Drown, and you can't join us.”
It was so quiet, suddenly. The three of us staring into rippling water.
A minute passed, and my tummy started to twist.
“Fuck.” Ben’s expression stayed stoic. I wasn't expecting him to say a bad word.
He cocked his head. “I thought she could swim.”
I hit him, holding in a cry. “You need to get our parents!”
But he didn't listen to me, taking a single step, and dropping into the pool.
I fell to my knees, scanning the water.
Lucy was crying. “Are they dead?!” she shrieked.
“Shhh!” I was watching two shadows lingering under the water.
Violet broke through. I expected her to be crying, but her expression was unwavering. She was silent. I thought the splashing underneath her was her legs trying and struggling to tread water, before Lucy shoved me. Hard.
“Panda! What do we do?!”
Looking closer, Violet was perfectly still, her gaze on the sky.
While she shoved Ben under the water, drowning him.
Violet’s eyes sparkled, and somehow, I knew she belonged in my gang.
Her gaze found mine, glinting with that darkness, that poisonous streak I found myself drawn to. It was a starving, insatiable need to understand a fractured mind. Know your enemy.
“Do you want to see if Ben’s a witch?” Violet asked me, her tone something else entirely. This girl did not make sense, using barely her finger to drown Ben Callows. I knew she was wrong.
I knew there was something loose, something unlocked and unbridled and drowning inside her mind and heart.
But I wanted more of her. I wanted Violet Evergreen in my detective gang.
I think that is why I stood there, frozen.
When the thrashing stopped, Ben broke through.
He wasn't coughing or spluttering, his head inclined. “You didn't drown.”
Violet climbed out of the pool, offering her hand. “And you're not a witch.”
He declined her hand, taking the steps instead.
I asked Violet in a shaky voice. I was trembling with terror, but I was excited.
Exhilarated.
“Violet, will you join my gang?”
She didn't answer me until we were sharing hot cocoa in my house.
I told Mom we fell in the pool, and she believed me. I should have told her that my friends were sociopaths, and I was kind of maybe in love. Violet sipped her cocoa, nodding with a smile I didn't recognise. Violet never smiled at school.
Well, she did. But it was always the prick of a cruel smirk.
I don't think her smile was genuine, but she was definitely enjoying herself.
Our last member came to us, instead of finding him.
Jules Howell, a straggly brunette pushed his way in front of me in the lunch line. I didn't really know the kid.
He sat at the back of the classroom and slept through most of class. I did like his accent though.
Jules had moved from Melbourne in the second grade. He didn't talk much.
When he did, I found myself enveloped in his voice, which sounded like water to me, a bleeding cadence to his tone.
Jules piled his plate with fries, smiling widely at the lunch ladies.
“I saw you last night.” He murmured through that perfectly moulded grin.
“Saw me where?”
“At the pool,” Jules said. “You, Bloody Ben, Violet Evergreen, and that Lucy girl. You were doing a suiciding pact.”
“That's not what we were doing.” I said, “What's a suiciding pact?”
“When you kill yourself together.” Jules said. “I saw it in a scary movie my Mom was watching.”
I grabbed a fork. “We weren't doing that.”
His eyes were strange when I took the time to notice them. The excited gleam had fizzled out. Jules’s hands tightened around his tray. “Then what were you doing?”
I didn't reply, making my way over to our usual table. Ben was already waving me over, Violet and Lucy holding up the flyers we were making.
THE REDBLOOD DETECTIVES.”
Do YOU need our help? We can find/solve anything! Contact us on the number below. (We take donations!)
When I bothered turning around, Jules was lost in the crowd of kids.
We were on our first official case, searching for Mrs Lake’s missing mail, when Jules appeared seemingly out of nowhere. And with him, a golden retriever puppy he introduced as Arlo.
It took a dog jumping up at them for Violet and Ben to find their real smiles, their real selves slowly seeping through these facades they had built around themselves. Ben dropped to a crouch, ruffling the dog's ears, his smile faint.
“Who's a good boy?” He chuckled.
Arlo didn't move, tail wagging, eyes bright.
Ben motioned the dog towards him, but Arlo stayed put.
Jules joined us…quietly.
I don't remember asking him, or even him asking me.
He just became part of us, side by side with Arlo.
We soon came to quickly realize that our town was boring.
There were no monsters or thieves, or soul sucking demons. No criminals or serial killers. Not even one missing person. We did, however, get calls about missing cats. I turned eleven years old, patiently waiting for a murder or a kid going missing. But there was nothing.
All we did was chase cats, and the occasional dog. Maybe a budgie if we were lucky. Twelve years old, our detective club became a joke.
The five of us (and Arlo hiding under the table) were trying to pinpoint Mrs Tracy's lost hamster, when three girls came over, dumping their soda all over us.
We watched crime shows for inspiration on catching killers.
Ben’s favorite crime was one that happened in the 80’s in our town.
2 girls murdered.
Their intestines stuffed into envelopes and mailed to family members.
“That's what we should be solving,” he told me one night, “Not missing cats.”
Thirteen years old, we lay in Violet’s backyard under the cruel glare of the summer sun. We called it working and didn't like to admit it was hanging out, or that we were even friends. However.
That didn't stop us growing closer.
Even if it wasn't quite the way I’d expected.
I proposed a plan, standing up, wobbling a little off balance.
“I've got it.” I said, my voice kinda slurry from Violet’s special summer cocktail, which was just random alcoholic beverages we found, thrown into a blender, and diluted with water.
The town wasn't taking us seriously.
So, we were going to make our own mysteries.
I ordered a full-scale assault on our small town. One that they could not ignore. Ben stamped on Mrs Mason’s flowers, and Lucy threw mud pies at people's cars. Jules trashed the high school gym, and Violet and I spray painted threats and warnings on every store window. Now, this did cause panic, but also an official curfew.
Thirty minutes before curfew, we met in our usual spot, deep in the forest near the lake. Ben yelled at me when I was three minutes late. He was real passionate about finding a real mystery.
“You're late.” Ben was sitting on a rock waving a stick in Arlo’s face.
The dog still wasn't going near him, whining softly.
I took my place, muttering an apology. “I had to lie to my Mom.”
Violet, sitting with her legs crossed, idly digging her manicure into the dirt, suggested we buy mannequins and masquerade them as dead bodies, hanging them from the school rafters.
Lucy, who had slowly grown out of her shell, becoming a lot more outspoken, nudged her. “That's a stupid idea.”
The girl groaned, leaning into her. “Urgh. You're right.”
Jules was the only energetic one, standing on the tireswing.
He jumped down, definitely twisting his ankle.
But his smile only widened, kind of like he enjoyed being in pain.
“Why don't we pretend to be kidnapped?” He said, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over blondish curls growing out. Jules did a dramatic spin, his eyes shining. “We can ‘go missing’ for like a week, and then when our parents are really scared, we can turn up, and tell them we escaped a kidnapping.” His lips split into a grin.
“And then we solve our own kidnapping!”
Ben awkwardly patted Arlos head, only for the dog to pull away with a snort.
“I like it,” he murmured. “I'm in.”
Jules’s idea was stupid.
But.
It was worth a shot.
The five of us agreed to meet the morning after with enough food and supplies for a week. Then we were going to hike to the next town, and hide out for a week. It was an almost perfect plan, using ourselves as victims of our own mystery.
Packing as much as I could, I kissed my mother goodbye (I told her my pack was for a picnic) and set off to the rendezvous we agreed on.
When I arrived, I was the first one there. I checked and re-checked my pack.
I waited ten minutes, unable to contain my excitement.
Then 20 minutes.
It was getting kind of cold.
One hour.
I sat on a rock for enough time to watch the sky change color.
When the clouds were orange, I stood up and stumbled back home. They had gone without me. Mom lectured me when I got home, and I stuck to the plan of pretending my friends had gone missing, even if I they had betrayed me.
Ben said he'd text me when he arrived at the redervous. I at least expected him to text an explanation, but there was nothing. I was in the dark, and after three days of nothing, our town finally began to take us seriously.
“Our children have been kidnapped!” The adults were screaming.
Mom was crying in the kitchen, praying to a god I knew she didn't believe in that I wasn't taken next. I was interviewed and stuck with the exact same story I came up with when I was with the others. Our plan was to return after a week, claiming to be locked up in a dark room with a masked man.
I told my Mother and the other parents that I didn't know where my friends were, repeating the same thing over and over again until I was tongue tied.
“I saw them the day before they went missing, and… yes, everything seemed okay.” I slowly sipped my glass of milk provided, looking the sheriff directly in the eyes.
“No, I didn't notice anything suspicious, sheriff. Yes, I'm sure, sir. No, they didn't tell me anything.”
It was Ben’s mother who shattered my mask.
“Did I know about… what?” I whispered.
Something warm filled the back of my mouth, foul tasting milk erupting up my throat. I leaned forward, trying to look Mrs Callows in the eye. “No, I… I didn't know about Ben’s…condition.”
Mrs Callows was screaming at me about her son’s troubled past when I barfed all over myself, my eyes burning.
In the privacy of my own room, I sobbed until I couldn't breathe.
I tried to tell Mom, but we had come so close.
One more day, and the others would be back.
But that day came. I sat cross legged at our usual spot, which was now covered in police tape. I waited for their thudding footsteps, their laughter congratulating each other for coming up with a great plan. I waited, my face buried in my knees, for my friends.
It was dark when my phone vibrated, and I'd fallen asleep.
I wasn't scared, forcing myself to my feet.
“Where are you?” Mom yelled down the phone.
“Coming home now.” I muttered.
“Sorry.” I paused, holding my breath against a cry. “Mom.” I broke down, forcing my fist into my mouth to hide my squeak. “Mommy, did they come back?”
Mom didn't reply for a moment.
“I'm so sorry, baby.” She whispered, ending the call.
I took my time walking home that night.
There were no stars in the sky.
When a hand clamped over my mouth, I could smell him.
When he dragged me back, stabbing a kitchen knife into my throat, I stared at the sky and looked for stars. His arms were warm around me, violently pulling me into the back of a pickup truck. The pickup truck he'd said he was bringing.
It was his grandfather's, and he could just about drive it.
Hitting the backseat, my body was numb, my thoughts in a whirlwind.
The pickup flew forwards, and I remembered how to move.
I rolled off the seat, my hands pinned behind my back.
Twisting around, blinking in the dim, I could feel something warm, something seeping across upholstery seats. Blood.
It was everywhere, sticky on my hands and wet on my face when I struggled to get up. I was lying in someone's blood.
A scream clawed its way out of my throat.
The pickup flew over a pothole, and something dropped off the seat.
Arlo’s leash.
I screamed again, this time his name gritted between my teeth.
I didn't stop screaming until the jerking movement stopped. The doors opened, pale light hitting me in the face.
Flashlight. Warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me from the car, and then, pulling me by my hair, into our old tree house. It was always our secret place, our saving grace on the edge of town.
The flickering candlelight caught me off guard, illuminating my surroundings.
Two bodies slumped over each other, lying in stemming red.
I felt suffocated, like I was going to die. I screamed, and that warm hand cradled my mouth again, gagging my cries.
Violet and Jules.
There was something wrong with them. And it was only when I forced myself to look closer, when I realized their insides had been carved out, heart, stomach, everything, pulled out.
There was paper on the floor.
No, not paper. Envelopes.
Envelopes stuffed with gore, bright red leaking through white.
Shuffling back, my brain was too slow to react, while my body was trying to vault to my feet, only to be violently pulled back by my ponytail.
I felt his fingers twining around my hair, revelling in my screams.
With another tug, my head was forced forwards.
Orange candlelight felt almost homely, this time lighting up a third body.
Lying on their back, curled up, pooling scarlet dried into the floorboards, their wrists restricted with duct-tape.
I could feel blood underneath me, sticky, a congealing paste.
“Do you know what happened on October 3rd, 1987, in our town?”
Lucy Prescott stood over me, her arms folded across her chest.
I managed to shake my head, when she grabbed Ben’s legs, dragging him under the candlelight. I dazedly watched her stroke the blade of a carving knife, the teeth already stained scarlet. “The intestine murders.” Lucy hummed, tracing the knife down the floorboards.
“A man murdered two high school girls, carving out their insides and sending their pieces to their loved ones.”
Lucy's eyes found mine, ignited in a familiar gleam. I saw it in Principal Marrow’s office. Then the swimming pool. The cafeteria. “It was the sheriff's only murder case, Panda. Ever since then, our town has been boring. There's no mysteries to solve. Nothing to find.”
The girl jumped to her feet, retrieving a blood stained envelope.
She held it up, a smile curved on her lips. The girl turned around, and I heard a horrific squelching sound. Lucy held up a bright red sausage, ripped into it, and slipped it into the white paper.
“But I can change that.” she said, in a giggle.
“I can create a real serial killer, who we can hunt down together.”
Lucy stabbed the blade into the floor, laughing.
“Or! I can bring a fan-favorite back! I can bring the intestine killer back from the dead!”
Her gaze flicked to the others. “There are casualties, of course. The story is, I was kidnapped with Ben, Violet, and Jules. The scary intestine killer killed them, and I managed to get away.”
Lucy shuffled over to me, her eyes wide. “Then! He came back and struck again!”
With those words, she shoved me onto my back.
“First he took Violet,” Lucy hummed, tracing the blade down my shirt.
“Then… Jules.” I squeezed my eyes shut, pulling at the restraints around my wrists. “Then Ben.” her breath tickled my cheek. “And finally… Panda.”
Lucy lifted the knife, and I accepted my death.
Until a low rumble in my ears.
Shouting.
Thundering footsteps, followed by the pitter-patter of paws.
“Lucy!” The sheriff was screaming, and the girl stumbled to her feet, the knife slipping from her fingers. Lucy stumbled, tripping over Ben’s body.
“He got away!” she shrieked. “He…he killed them! Oh, god, please help me!”
I don't think Lucy even realised the traces she'd left behind.
The blood slick on her fingers, her manic, grinning smile full of mania.
I was looking for stars when an officer crouched over me.
I couldn't understand what she was saying.
Her voice was white noise.
“Rachel? Hey, try and sit up, honey. You Mom is on her way.”
Instead of listening to her, I curled into myself.
My gaze found Arlo sticking his nose in Ben’s hair, trying to nudge the boy awake.
I didn't fully register the next few days.
They went by in a confusing blur.
Part of me tried to eat, and spent hours with my head pressed against the toilet seat.
I could still see the slithering, scarlet remains of my friends every time I closed my eyes. There was so much red, soaked in that hunting orange light.
Blood that I could still see, a starless sky that stretched on forever.
Weeks went by.
Then months.
I think I turned 14. I wasn't sure. I didn't feel alive anymore.
I stood at my friend’s funerals with a single rose I dropped into their casket.
Violet’s mother was quick to cover the whole thing up.
Lucy's plan didn't work after all.
Our town’s murder cases stayed stagnant at one.
It's been four years since my friends were murdered by our ’Velma’.
Now, at seventeen, Mom asked if I wanted to visit Lucy in juvie.
I'm not even upset or angry anymore.
I want to know why.
Ben picked me up. Arlo was at his side, wagging his tail.
Ben was…different. He'd dumped his baseball cap and gotten a haircut, swapping his old wardrobe of drab colors for an attempt at changing style.
That day, he looked awkward in a short sleeved tee and shorts.
At school, Ben is no longer Bloody Ben.
Now, he is Survivor Ben.
I’m still Panda.
Every time I was with him, I felt like my soul was being sucked out.
Guilt so deep, so fucking painful, I lost my breath.
I live knowing that I immediately assumed it was him that day.
Ben was barely alive when I found him. Lucy had started to carve into him before remembering she needed me.
After admitting it to him, his lips formed a small smile.
“Can I tell you a secret?” He said to me, at sixteen.
"Yeah?"
Whatever he was going to say, Ben never told me.
Presently, I nodded at the dog’s new collar.
“Peppa Pig themed?”
The boy shrugged, ruffling Arlo’s ears. “FYI, he chose it.”
“It's cute.” I said. “Very… chic.”
We didn't speak the whole ride, but Ben did entangle his hand in mine.
We spent half an hour outside the detention centre. I was panicking, and Ben was trying to hide that he was panicking. In the end, we joined hands, and strode through the doors together.
Lucy greeted us with a wide smile. Just as psychotic.
The orange jumpsuit suited her, though I had zero idea why.
“Hey Arlo!” she giggled at the dog, and Ben pulled the pup onto his lap.
“Ben.” She sighed. “I wish I got to finish you. I would have loved to solve the mystery of your gutted corpse.”
Ben’s smile was wry. “Nice to see you too.”
Behind a glass screen, I asked Lucy one simple question.
“Why?”
Lucy didn't reply. Or she did, but it was just nonsensical bullshit.
But there was one thing she said has stuck with me, chilling me to the core.
I am fucking terrified of Lucy. Of what's she's done, and what she's capable of doing.
It was a throwaway line, and I don't even think Ben noticed.
Or he did, and was in denial.
Lucy's smile was wide, her eyes empty pools of nothing.
The exact same glint in Ben’s eyes.
Jules’s eyes.
Violet’s eyes.
Like something was gnawing away at their psyche, twisting and contorting it, filling them with darkness, poison, that was so vast, so endless, I had craved it as a child. I still don't know what it is.
But I'm going to find it.
Lucy's laugh was shrill, and next to me, Ben didn't move a muscle.
“I don't even wear glasses!”

This feels like a never ending psych trip, I don’t know how to shut my brain off. I’m to the point where I’m trying to concentrate so hard when I just end up laying there for hours with my eyes closed waiting for me to hit a wave of sleepiness but when it even slightly comes by, my brain alerts me to stay up as if it’s torturing me to stay awake. I decided to go to work on 23 hours no sleep since I called in on Friday for this exact circumstance and had a literal break down hysterically crying from the lack of sleep. I was thankful enough to leave work early but I STILL CAN’T SLEEP. Just like the come down of an psych trip, my brain won’t turn off. Will it ever? I took Advil pm last night thinking it would do the job and it did absolutely nothing. I was prescribed a while back 10 mg of Hydroxyzine(Atarax) and still haven’t given it a chance but at this point I just have to take it before bed and hope it does something to knock me out and stop the hamster wheel my mind is running on. I’m so sorry for anyone who deals with this excessively, it’s dreadful and feels never ending. I don’t have a headache but my brain… it feels strained and fatigued :( Should I go for the 10mg hydroxyzine? Has anyone been prescribed or tried it before?

Previous/Next
My cellphone rang, snapping me out of my daze. The caller was unknown, and I hesitantly placed it against my ear after answering.
“Ah, Mister Bannon,” said the gruff voice on the other end of the line. “It’s good to see you are still with us. I was certain those roaches would prove to be your end.”
I was breathing heavily. “Yes. I’m still here. Of course.” The sound of the metronome clicks on the other side of the door were growing louder. “I don’t think I have much time.”
It sounded as though the stranger on the other end of the line was shuffling some papers around on their desk. “Yes. You wouldn’t if it were not for this phone call.” More shuffling. “There’s a hatch behind the refrigerator.”
“Excuse me?” I panted.
“If my sources are accurate, there should be a hatch with a tunnel just large enough for you to fit through. That is your ticket out of your current predicament.”
“How do you know that?”
“Trust is a hard thing to come by in this day and age, is it not?”
“That’s right.” My voice came timidly in response. I moved to the fridge near the sink, briefly glimpsing to the dead cockroach there. After setting the phone down on the counter and shimmying the fridge away from the wall, there was indeed a hatch awaiting me there. I put the phone to my ear again. “It’s here.”
The line was dead, and the constant tone after someone decides the conversation is over met me.
I dropped the phone in my pocket and looked back to the metal hatch. The clicks were growing closer. There was no other option. I reached out and latched onto the handle, prying it open while leveraging my dress shoe against the wall. I peered inside and saw that it looked like the walls were made of sheet metal. Was this some sort of ventilation shaft perhaps? There wasn’t a moment to think. I dove in and clawed and slapped at the walls to propel my body forward. The claustrophobia was immeasurable, and I had no idea where I was going; all I knew for sure was that the sounds of the clicks behind me were fading away.
I was possibly thirty feet in before the sound of Quincey’s screaming voice surrounded me. He was echoing all down the metal tube. “You think you can squirm away Art?”
The panic shot through my body like I’m sure the adrenaline leaves the shoulders of a dying animal. He was calling into the hatchway.
“I wonder if you can outrun these?” He shouted. The sound of a million hissing creatures followed his words up the passageway.
In response, I kicked and began to pull myself along even quicker, paying no attention to what was ahead and paid mind to the place near my feet, sure that at any moment the roaches would begin devouring me from the bottom up.
I met something in the passageway and when I felt around at the thing the top of my head met, I found a handle. It was another hatch. I pushed with everything in me and it creaked open to allow me to slide out onto a hard floor. Scrambling to my feet, I shut the hatchway on that end just in time for a particularly large cockroach’s pinhead to catch in the edge of the hatch. It shot off gloriously, leaving behind a thick clump of yellow green insides.
Caught in the hysteria, I slapped the closed hatch with both hands, letting out an exasperated, “Yes.”
The sound of the insects on the other side disappeared and I could only assume this was because their new masters called them back.
I examined the room I was in. It came as no surprise that what met me was blank gray walls; in far corner of the empty room was a door and I went to it. Before reaching out to open the door, I pressed my ear to it to see if I could hear a thing. The sound of ocean waves beating the coast and pelican calls were all that I could hear. I twisted the knob and pushed it out. What awaited me could not have been conceived. There was a beach. I stepped from the room, out onto gathered algae-covered stones. I turned to look at the structure I’d come from. It was a plain concrete block on the coast, no larger than a bedroom. I rounded the thing, looking for evidence of the passageway that had given me my means of escape. It defied all laws of physics as there was no tether between this small structure and Sceptre Incorporated.
“Hey there!” called out a figure in the distant, further along the beach.
I spun, paranoid of the figure’s intent. She approached slowly, obviously eyeing me over as she stepped onto the slick rocks.
She wore a great big khaki sun hat above a pair of comically oversized sunglasses and a two-piece spotted bikini. “You look awful!” She said upon getting a closer look at me.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Look at your chest!” She was aghast at the wound I’d sliced the cockroach from. It was true; I was bleeding straight through the work shirt I’d wrapped around my body in an attempt to strangulate the wound. “What’s happened to you?”
“Do you know the man on the phone?” I asked.
“Man on the phone?” she peered at me over her sunglasses. “Whatever in the world are you talking about?”
“Never mind.” I started over the slick rocks, watching my steps so as to not spill over. Just up the way, I spied a boardwalk and I started in that direction. I began searching on my phone for a taxi service in the area. I was on the coast. The squalor factory was at least an hour’s drive inland.
“Wait!” The woman reached out to grab my forearm.
I tried whipping myself from her grasp and sent us both scrambling over the rocks. I landed squarely on my knees and she fell face first over the rocks, her nose erupting in blood.
“What’s your problem, Arthur?” she squealed while pinching her nose. Her sunglasses lay near her feet, shattered.
Jumping to my feet, I massaged my knees. “What did you just say?”
“What’s your problem?” She asked again.
I took a step away from her. “Is that all you said?”
“Of course.”
“Leave me alone.” I left the woman laying there in the rocks, stunned.
She continued to call after me, but I ignored her, jogging towards the boardwalk. The humidity mixed with the scent of the ocean was coaxing out nausea. I plodded up the stairs to the boardwalk and ignored the bystanders’ surprised expressions as I limped past. A small child ran by, smothering his face in a pillow of cotton candy and his mother gave me a raised eyebrow as she passed to chase after her charge.
I dialed for a taxi and scheduled them to meet me out by the entrance of the boardwalk. As I stepped by a hotdog stand, the man tending the counter squirted mustard along the bun. Resting within the bun was a living, breathing hamster. I twisted around to give the hotdog a second glance. It was normal.
“Did you want one, buddy?” he asked.
I walked on without answering. Was it some sort of psychosis growing like mesh around my mind or was the world’s fabric melting away?
I sat in the backseat of the taxi and unwrapped my makeshift bandage to examine the wound on my chest. The driver adjusted his rearview mirror to catch a better look at me. I winced as I pulled the work shirt from the places the blood had dried, forcing it to cling.
The driver whistled. “Wouldn’t think the cockroaches would be this bad this time of year.”
My skin grew exceptionally cold. “What?”
“Wouldn’t think the rain would be this bad this time of year.” He twisted the knob near the steering wheel to turn on the windshield wipers.
It was raining. The day’s events had sapped all energy from my muscles. I craned my head back and closed my eyes to see the metronome sitting in a black void. It clicked back and forth and rocked me to sleep.
The squalor factory’s steps were empty as I exited the taxi. Briefly, I wondered whether Mary and Margery would shoot from around a corner and berate me for scaring them with the hissing cockroach. They didn’t.
My apartment was untouched.
As I properly disinfected my chest with alcohol and wrapped it with a gauze pad, my phone rang. I screwed the top of the alcohol and laid down on my matress, staring up at the ceiling of the squalor factory. I knew who was calling. It was unknown.
I answered. “Thank you.”
The gruff voice on the other end of the line chuckled to itself. “No worries, my boy.” There was a short pause. “However, you should know that this is far from over. You understand that don’t you?”
“How do you mean?” I glanced down to the things I’d gathered in a cardboard box at the foot of my mattress on the floor.
“I see you’ve been planning to skip town.” The shuffling sound of papers could be heard over the line once again. “That would not be favorable.”
“How do you know that?”
“I have eyes, don’t I?”
“Do you?” I tested.
The voice let out another chuckle. “Please Mister Bannon, don’t make me laugh. I’m not in the mood for it and you need all the help you can get. I would be better suited at helping you if you’d stop with the clowning.”
“Of course.” I watched the gentle flicker of the oil lantern by my mattress.
“So, we’re agreed that you will go into work tomorrow?”
“Excuse me?”
“That is the plan. My plans seldom fail.” A pause on the line. “Trust, Mister Bannon. Trust is the key to everything."
Previous/Next

I'm really not sure who to tell or what to do so I'm typing this I guess to get opinions and advice and to get this story out I'm not really sure where to start
So in end of Feb me my mom and my sister got kicked out of our house I didn't know what to do so I called my dad and he helped move some of our stuff and my mom and sister found a place through her friend but it was a 2 bedroom apartment my dad kinda made the decision for me that I would be coming with him and my life has been a living hell ever since I was ok living with him even though I think I wanted to go with my mom and sister I have lived with my mom and sister my entire life so I didn't know or expect moving and not being with them would have a massive effect on me
Here's the problem(s) my dad acted nice for about a month now I know my dad is a bit mentally abusive because he never has failed to make me feel like shit but he was so pushy about me living with him and how he wanted me to live with him because he's lonely at home alot bc he's by himself (clearly can tell why) after about a month he started finding anything and everything ti yell at me for he hasn't taken in consideration that I lost my house, I'm not with the people or animals I grew up with, I've been dumped after 5 years, I've almost had a heart attack, and I'm currently dealing with a ton of stomach problems my doctor is trying to fiqure out I feel like shit every single day but I'm trying he eats everything in the fridge within days and then yells at me for eating ? Or yells at me because he spent 200$ on groceries....that he normally eats bc I barely eat if I don't eat he's "concerned" I have been depressed because I'm clearly homesick/ people sick he found out I was on antidepressants when I moved in and was convinced that someone was filling my head that I'm depressed (I've been depressed sense 13 diagnosed at 17or 18) he was trying to get me to stop taking my meds he litterly finds anything to yell at me about or hold over my head he was on my ass about my permit which I never just needed to drive bc my sister always took me everywhere so I just never "needed" it I guess I planned on gerting it renewed soon and have made a appointment for I wake up around 10-12 everyday and he immediately screams at me when I get up because I "sleep all day" ive never been a morning person it makes me sick he then constantly tells me i have no plans and never do anything I was alreadly talking to my mom about coming home she's fine with it and then he brought a puppy home and that's where things got really fucking bad he asked if we wanted him and I ofc said yes bc I'm not gonna turn down a animal even though I should of said no first off the bat I left him to explore downstairs had my door open and he immediately crated him within 3 hours because he didnt wanna deal with him so I brought him and the crate upstairs bc I'm up 8 hours after my dad goes to sleep and this was the first and only time he came up to let him outside and he immediately started screaming at me within 15 seconds of turning on my light something about my room smelling horrible because of my hamster (have had him sense before I moved in and I clean his things every other day he's in a 55 gallon tank btw) I know what a smelly hamster smells like bc I've rescuing them for years now and he went down and started screaming to have "the smelly thing out of his house by the end of the week" and I've had friends over and asked and they can't smell anything at all I'm 99% sure what he is smelling is the Aspen smell I just tried going back to bed and he came back up to crate him saying that i need to either clean him or get rid of him and I just was pretending to fucking sleep bc it was 4:30 am and i just got to sleep a hour beforehand he then got home and said we needed to "have a talk" he then said he's worried I'm depressed because "I'm not doing anything" (I get up every day to clean up dishes,trash, and his freaking million beer cans ) and the hamster is "dirty" and my rooms a mess my room is spotless besides the shit laying on tables that idk what to do with (fish tanks little bits of stuff) and I told him I thought he was smelling the Aspen and he lit a fuse and started screaming at the top of his lungs that I'm not gonna run him in his house that the dogs gonna get sick and that if I don't like the rules my mom has a place I can go to and I just walked away and started crying because I don't like being yelled at 2 HOW ABOUT YOU TALK INSTEAD OF YELLING 3 I again have been struggling mentally 4 I'm not getting rid of my animals he then yelled at me for crying so I just went to my room called my friend and sister and he came up to apologize and asked why I was crying I said I was upset and he asked why? I told him because he's fucking yelling at me and I don't like being yelled at he said he was just a angry dude and gets mad sometimes and he was "concerned my health problems were from the hamster" (I'm depressed have tinitus and lack vitamin d so what the actual fuck?) and then we put the dogs new crate together and I assumed it would go in my room because I'm the one who's been taking it out feeding it and sleeping with him he just started yelling again how it's always about what I want and fuck him bc he wanted him downstairs in the living room and I spefically didn't think that was a good idea bc he wasn't crate trained and screams in his cage and I didn't want him waking my dad up while he was sleeping he then has now used the dog against me saying he's gonna get rid of him because He's too hyper or put him down he got mad when he learned that I was letting the dog sleep in my bed because he was gonna get separation anxiety the next day he threatened twice to get rid of him I was so fuckin exhausted the first week of puppy training and I ended up crying beci was feeling homesick and he asked why u was cryung i just said I was tired then he said I had no right to be tired sense i didnt get up at 4am and go to work everyday like him he then said hed watch him if i went back to sleep amd within the 3 hours he had locked him outside and in the bathroom because he didnt wanna watch him and thrented to get rid of him again and then my mom wanted me to come back over and i told him i was gonna bring him over to get him socialized and see how he is with other dogs and he flipped saying it was never his plan to get the dog for me to bring it over my mom's and that he has me to socialize and i need to match his energy and then my sister picked me up and i grabed his crate to crate train him and so hes got a safe place over there and he lit his fuse again asking why im taking everything and he doesnt get anything i do and then he started throwing dishes slaming doors stomping around and this entirely told me to get out asap everyday I get screamed at for just breathing he also complains the dog smells like "dog"
I ended up going to my moms the begining of the week to talk about everything she said i can come home I'm just worried he won't let me take the dog and will neglect or abuse him or get rid of him just to be out of spite i got home he immediately saif the dog smelled horrible? So I had to give him another bath he then started screaming at me telling me my mom's dogs were gonna give him parvo because he's pretty sure my mom's dogs never had their shots (they do and they are on top of it) and I told him that and then he started screaming at me to call the vet which I told him I already did and told him the prices on vaccines he said "no they said parvo is 40$ per shot and he needs 3 so you better get on the floor and start scrubbing it" ????? I litterly called the vet we're taking him to yet I'm somehow still wrong?
He's also telling me he's not making any profit in his bank account so he's blaming me for being here for that too when I litterly don't do anything I barely eat I barely have anything on like I just don't know how to get out without him flipping his shit or finding a way to make me feel like shit for leaving even though he clearly doesn't want me here I've told doctors friends and everyone what's been going on and everyone tells me to get out asap but Idk how to safely and im also concerned about the dog

I'm really not sure who to tell or what to do so I'm typing this I guess to get opinions and advice and to get this story out I'm not really sure where to start
So in end of Feb me my mom and my sister got kicked out of our house I didn't know what to do so I called my dad and he helped move some of our stuff and my mom and sister found a place through her friend but it was a 2 bedroom apartment my dad kinda made the decision for me that I would be coming with him and my life has been a living hell ever since I was ok living with him even though I think I wanted to go with my mom and sister I have lived with my mom and sister my entire life so I didn't know or expect moving and not being with them would have a massive effect on me
Here's the problem(s) my dad acted nice for about a month now I know my dad is a bit mentally abusive because he never has failed to make me feel like shit but he was so pushy about me living with him and how he wanted me to live with him because he's lonely at home alot bc he's by himself (clearly can tell why) after about a month he started finding anything and everything ti yell at me for he hasn't taken in consideration that I lost my house, I'm not with the people or animals I grew up with, I've been dumped after 5 years, I've almost had a heart attack, and I'm currently dealing with a ton of stomach problems my doctor is trying to fiqure out I feel like shit every single day but I'm trying he eats everything in the fridge within days and then yells at me for eating ? Or yells at me because he spent 200$ on groceries....that he normally eats bc I barely eat if I don't eat he's "concerned" I have been depressed because I'm clearly homesick/ people sick he found out I was on antidepressants when I moved in and was convinced that someone was filling my head that I'm depressed (I've been depressed sense 13 diagnosed at 17or 18) he was trying to get me to stop taking my meds he litterly finds anything to yell at me about or hold over my head he was on my ass about my permit which I never just needed to drive bc my sister always took me everywhere so I just never "needed" it I guess I planned on gerting it renewed soon and have made a appointment for I wake up around 10-12 everyday and he immediately screams at me when I get up because I "sleep all day" ive never been a morning person it makes me sick he then constantly tells me i have no plans and never do anything I was alreadly talking to my mom about coming home she's fine with it and then he brought a puppy home and that's where things got really fucking bad he asked if we wanted him and I ofc said yes bc I'm not gonna turn down a animal even though I should of said no first off the bat I left him to explore downstairs had my door open and he immediately crated him within 3 hours because he didnt wanna deal with him so I brought him and the crate upstairs bc I'm up 8 hours after my dad goes to sleep and this was the first and only time he came up to let him outside and he immediately started screaming at me within 15 seconds of turning on my light something about my room smelling horrible because of my hamster (have had him sense before I moved in and I clean his things every other day he's in a 55 gallon tank btw) I know what a smelly hamster smells like bc I've rescuing them for years now and he went down and started screaming to have "the smelly thing out of his house by the end of the week" and I've had friends over and asked and they can't smell anything at all I'm 99% sure what he is smelling is the Aspen smell I just tried going back to bed and he came back up to crate him saying that i need to either clean him or get rid of him and I just was pretending to fucking sleep bc it was 4:30 am and i just got to sleep a hour beforehand he then got home and said we needed to "have a talk" he then said he's worried I'm depressed because "I'm not doing anything" (I get up every day to clean up dishes,trash, and his freaking million beer cans ) and the hamster is "dirty" and my rooms a mess my room is spotless besides the shit laying on tables that idk what to do with (fish tanks little bits of stuff) and I told him I thought he was smelling the Aspen and he lit a fuse and started screaming at the top of his lungs that I'm not gonna run him in his house that the dogs gonna get sick and that if I don't like the rules my mom has a place I can go to and I just walked away and started crying because I don't like being yelled at 2 HOW ABOUT YOU TALK INSTEAD OF YELLING 3 I again have been struggling mentally 4 I'm not getting rid of my animals he then yelled at me for crying so I just went to my room called my friend and sister and he came up to apologize and asked why I was crying I said I was upset and he asked why? I told him because he's fucking yelling at me and I don't like being yelled at he said he was just a angry dude and gets mad sometimes and he was "concerned my health problems were from the hamster" (I'm depressed have tinitus and lack vitamin d so what the actual fuck?) and then we put the dogs new crate together and I assumed it would go in my room because I'm the one who's been taking it out feeding it and sleeping with him he just started yelling again how it's always about what I want and fuck him bc he wanted him downstairs in the living room and I spefically didn't think that was a good idea bc he wasn't crate trained and screams in his cage and I didn't want him waking my dad up while he was sleeping he then has now used the dog against me saying he's gonna get rid of him because He's too hyper or put him down he got mad when he learned that I was letting the dog sleep in my bed because he was gonna get separation anxiety the next day he threatened twice to get rid of him I was so fuckin exhausted the first week of puppy training and I ended up crying beci was feeling homesick and he asked why u was cryung i just said I was tired then he said I had no right to be tired sense i didnt get up at 4am and go to work everyday like him he then said hed watch him if i went back to sleep amd within the 3 hours he had locked him outside and in the bathroom because he didnt wanna watch him and thrented to get rid of him again and then my mom wanted me to come back over and i told him i was gonna bring him over to get him socialized and see how he is with other dogs and he flipped saying it was never his plan to get the dog for me to bring it over my mom's and that he has me to socialize and i need to match his energy and then my sister picked me up and i grabed his crate to crate train him and so hes got a safe place over there and he lit his fuse again asking why im taking everything and he doesnt get anything i do and then he started throwing dishes slaming doors stomping around and this entirely told me to get out asap everyday I get screamed at for just breathing he also complains the dog smells like "dog"
I ended up going to my moms the begining of the week to talk about everything she said i can come home I'm just worried he won't let me take the dog and will neglect or abuse him or get rid of him just to be out of spite i got home he immediately saif the dog smelled horrible? So I had to give him another bath he then started screaming at me telling me my mom's dogs were gonna give him parvo because he's pretty sure my mom's dogs never had their shots (they do and they are on top of it) and I told him that and then he started screaming at me to call the vet which I told him I already did and told him the prices on vaccines he said "no they said parvo is 40$ per shot and he needs 3 so you better get on the floor and start scrubbing it" ????? I litterly called the vet we're taking him to yet I'm somehow still wrong?
He's also telling me he's not making any profit in his bank account so he's blaming me for being here for that too when I litterly don't do anything I barely eat I barely have anything on like I just don't know how to get out without him flipping his shit or finding a way to make me feel like shit for leaving even though he clearly doesn't want me here I've told doctors friends and everyone what's been going on and everyone tells me to get out asap but Idk how to safely and im also concerned about the dog

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THUNK!!
I slammed both of my fists hard against the barrier.
THUNK!!
Its surface remained unyielding, unshaking, completely still and deaf to my plight.
THUNK!!
My mind struggled against the panic that ate and nibbled away at the corners of my consciousness.
THUNK!!
My eyes darted back and forth across the entirety of the surface of the pool, all in a desperate attempt at finding any signs of weakness, any signs of vulnerability within this gods-forsaken spell.
Any signs of a potential way out.
THUNK!!
My muscles began to ache.
THUNK!!
My lungs began to burn.
THUNK!!
My hands scrambled across the smooth and tantalizing fragile underside of the barrier. Those fists continued their relentless assault against the offending obstacle.
THUNK!!
Until finally, it clicked.
As in a moment of unexpected clarity, I saw it — waves.
My struggles had managed to cause the formerly calm and still waters to slosh around just enough for waves to form on the surface.
That was when it dawned on me.
The barrier wasn’t flush against the surface of the pool.
It couldn’t be, if that much water was allowed to slosh beneath its unyielding blockade.
Which meant there was an air pocket, or at least, small instances of them between the sloshing of large enough waves.
And so I forced myself up, kicking my legs calmly, just enough to keep me afloat, before poking my nose through what was effectively barely an inch of headroom between the barrier and the water.
I inhaled a massive lungful of air, through a waterlogged nose, and in a space just barely enough for me to do so.
Which was a struggle, both physically, and mentally.
As it took every ounce of my mental fortitude, my training, my forced calmness not to gasp for air with my mouth.
That would’ve spelled assured death.
Those lungfuls of air, and a newly clarified mind, was enough for me to notice one of two things.
One, being the finer details within the manastreams, and several inlets and outflows of those streams I could use to my advantage.
The assailant in question was good, but still a novice at keeping his spell integrity clean.
Two, being the nature of the assailant themselves.
Or rather, himself.
As I could just about make out the outlines, and then the full form in vivid detail, of the perpetrator in question.
A steely gaze and a barely restrained snarl were my instinctive reactions to the cocksure bull. These pointed reactions were met with a despicable grin, but without the manafield inflexions I would’ve expected of him.
Another stone in the current of mana seemed to pull the bull from his gloating however, as I felt the distinct presence of someone else arriving on scene.
The arrival of this interloper seemed to stir a look of annoyance on the bull’s features, as he gave me one final snarl, and an uncharacteristic glare of worry, before leaving to deal with the newcomer to the scene; removing himself from my line of sight and towards the new arrival.
But I could care less about that right now, as my mind switched to focusing on that first point, prompting me to take another, final, lungful of air, before submerging and darting across to the other side of the pool.
This was where the spell’s weakest point was.
And this was where I’d make my final gambit.
I dove back down, against my instincts, to the deepest section of the pool.
Then, I closed my eyes, focusing on siphoning the rich and latent streams around me.
Before finally—
Whiiiiirrrrrrr… KA-CRACK!!!
—Unleashing it all in a concentrated beam of mana. A feat that would’ve been utterly blinding to the manasenses, that shattered the invisible barrier that kept me prisoner, and that resulted in the water itself to shoot out in a massive jet of highly-compressed streams that chipped and cracked the fresco lining the dome above me.
This massive glut of water quickly came crashing down almost immediately after, utterly crushing the seats closest to that side of the pool, flattening it under its weight and eviscerating it as a result of the haphazard magical after effects that came naturally as a result of this barely-regulated channel-then-release form of brute-force magic.
A magic that would’ve probably barely made a dent on the same barrier back at home.
But that here? In the Nexus?
Was practically supercharged.
I found myself standing at the bottom of the pool now.
Not because of any intent to remain underwater.
But simply because there was no water to be had at the bottom at this point.
As almost every last drop was now scattered across the gymnasium and perhaps even down the hallway given the sheer volume that’d been displaced.
Everything in my body told me to lay down and rest, as my chest heaved, hungrily taking in the fresh air around me.
My instincts screamed at me to stop, especially after an entire workout, a near-drowning, and what amounted to the casting of a powerful spell.
But I didn’t.
What fueled me now was a newfound rage that caused me to not only stand there in defiance, but that also compelled me to take the next appropriate step.
Counterattacking, and dealing with the assailant.
Without warning, and without any hint of intent, I crouched… then leaped out of the twenty foot swimming pool, crossing my right arm across my chest and calling upon my dagger in one fell swoop, before landing well past the lip of the pool with my blade fully drawn into that of a greatsword.
It was there, with the blood of battle coursing through my veins, and the breath of rage wailing against my lungs, that I was met with the bull; who was standing cowardly down the hall, poised to leave.
We locked eyes once more.
This time, on completely different playing fields.
No longer did he maintain that look of unbridled cockiness, or a sense of superiority.
Instead, there was fear within those eyes.
And a manafield that felt clouded and shrouded, as if he was hiding and masking those feelings beneath that layered shell.
A second passed.
Then, I ran.
Four different spells were cast in rapid succession.
The first, was an enhancement to my speed.
The second, was an enhancement to my grip.
The third, was an enhancement to my agility.
And the fourth, was the most visible.
An enhancement to my blade, as it burst into flames just before I struck the bull’s side…
Only for it to be met with a resounding — CLANG!! — as the bull seemed to summon some form of armor throughout his entire form.
But that didn’t deter me.
In fact, the defensive posture, and the fear in his eyes was the panacea to the humiliation incurred upon me.
In short, it only fanned the flames of my response.
As I began striking harder, faster, and bolder.
CLASH!
Again.
CLANK!
And again.
CLANG!
And again.
Until finally…
CRRSHHHH!
The curved manasteel of his breastplate gave way to a hard bash from my pommel, forcing the bull back, where he staggered and heaved.
We both stood there now, tired and breathless.
The fuel that was rage started to wane somewhat.
But it was clear in spite of that, the blow I landed on the beast was significant enough to leave him still on the defensive; something that surprised yet irked me to no end.
“Well?!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. “ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED, RUNT?!” I yelled even louder, my voice resonated deep with its enhancement via latent mana.
The bull didn’t reply, not even with some empty platitudes of peace or a denial of the whole situation.
In fact, all he did was to begin channeling even more mana, moving into a fighting stance befitting of his superior size, but not so much to his species’ natural advantage.
“Let’s finish this like men, you petulant beast!” I all but snarled out, keeping my sword trained, and my posture ready.
Ping made the first move.
But that move wasn’t all what I’d expected.
As a sharp disruption in the manafield caused both my manasight and my eyes to become blinded by a headache-inducing light, and a loud high-pitched nausea-inducing sound.
This took me completely off-guard, prompting me to swing wildly towards the offending party—
Only for that strike to simply bounce off of the wall behind him with a resonant CLANG!
It took a few more moments for my senses to fully recover, and by the time it did, I was left with nothing.
Nothing but a door that had been left hastily ajar, and what appeared to be bootprints that ran through and down the hall towards the main stairwell.
The dishonorable thing had escaped.
I couldn’t help but to feel conflicted following that, as my sword continued to remain raised, and my body poised for another attack.
It was the battle-blood that still ran through me, that refused to let me rest.
In fact, the sudden and abrupt end to the battle had more or less exacerbated this feeling of restlessness.
As it was one thing to have an enemy die or surrender… it was another thing entirely to have them retreat; even if there was an assurance of victory.
Because there was a sense of assurance when it came to death or surrender. You knew for a fact that the enemy had been properly dealt with.
Dead or in chains, there was peace with knowing they were neutralized.
Retreat, and a successful one at that, left me uneasy and tense with worry.
It was a feeling that was… difficult to truly work through.
And it was a feeling that had in many instances left me feeling hollow.
Still, it was a feeling that my father had oftentimes helped to frame as one thing only — dishonor.
And the shame that would come from that, would hurt more than the most chronic of injuries, or the most disastrous of wounds.
For dishonor, and cowardly dishonor at that, was the heart-maimer.
It might start small, but eventually, any warrior worth their name will succumb to its effects.
Auris Ping might’ve gotten away with a few superficial injuries. But it’s the injury of his actions that will eat at him from this point onwards.
At least, that was what I was attempting to placate myself with as I moved to lower my sword, before transforming it back into its resting dagger-sized state.
It was around this time, as the battle-blood induced vitriol was cresting its peak, and as my body began to step down from that heightened battle-ready state, that I finally took note of a series of noises from within the gymnasium proper.
It was almost assuredly from the unknown interloper, who I’d myopically overlooked as a result of the rage-fueled retribution.
So without sheathing my blade, I began walking down the hallway towards the now-soaked room that was the gymnasium; towards what appeared to be another student and one that took me only a few seconds to recognize.
It was one of Qiv Ratom’s peers.
The small rodent-like creature struggled to stand on both of his legs, as if still dazed and recovering from the massive downpour of water, or perhaps some other injury if that bruised arm was anything to go by.
“Prince Havenbrock?” The small, hamster-like thing, barely half a head taller than Ilunor, spoke with a polite, cordial, and strangely affable tone of voice. One that was at complete odds with the usual terseness of most of the student body upon encountering me on a good day. Which was nothing to say of me in my battle-ready state. “A-are… are you quite alright?” He continued, the nervousness was palpable not just through his tone of voice, but by the obvious stressors in his manafield, and the smell of anxiety that was difficult to control to anyone not of lupinor heritage. “Do you require any healing assistance?” He quickly added with a sense of concern. Whether it was genuine or not, was anyone’s guess at this point.
“I’m alright.” I managed out, or rather, huffed out in a fit of exhaustion. “I appreciate the offer though, Prince…” I paused, realizing now that outside of Qiv and Airit, the two others in their peer group were practically enigmas to me. I blamed this not on myself or my reluctance to associate with the rest of the student body, but on the circumstances that prevented our group from truly integrating into the year group proper. “I am afraid I haven’t quite caught your name yet.” I admitted politely; desperately trying to claw myself back to civility.
“Ah! That’s quite alright! It’s certainly more than justifiable given…” The orange and white-furred being paused, gesturing around him. “...the recent circumstances. It would be entirely unfair of me to expect you to remember my name when we haven’t even been properly introduced, my dear fellow!”
It was around this point that the strangely dressed prince took a deep bow, almost befitting of Ilunor’s more theatrical tendencies.
“I am Prince Rostario Rostarion the XXI, son of His Benevolence King Rostario Rostarion the XX, Herald of the Nine Rivers, Beholder of the Writ of Transitions, and tenth in line for the throne of the Crita.” He spoke in an almost whimsical manner, straddling the line between the overzealousness of Ilunor’s propensity for noble norms, and a more idealistic interpretation of Expectant Decorum.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance at last, Prince Rostario Rostarion the XXI.” I spoke politely, matching the Crita’s bow, and holding it for just as long. “I just wished it had been under more… auspicious circumstances.”
“Oh nonsense! As we say in our realm, any day we meet a friend is a good day!” He beamed out, maintaining that smile throughout it all. “As a matter of fact, I doubt there’s ever such a thing as an unfavorable day to meet a friend. Which, once again, given recent happenings, may be as much a matter of courtesy as it is a matter of practicality.” Those latter words set off a few alarm bells in my head, which prompted me to address him now with less pleasantries and more in the way of practical matters.
“If I may ask, Prince Rostarion… what exactly are you doing here?”
The small thing blinked rapidly at that question. “Well, to be entirely honest Prince Havenbrock, I was here for perhaps the exact same reasons you were here.”
I looked the rodent-like prince up and down, noting his… less than typical attire, one that most certainly did not forego typical Nexian sensibilities as my own outfit had done, but that was definitely not your typical dinner attire.
“I mean no disrespect when I ask you this, Prince Rostarion, but would you genuinely have me believe that you were here to utilize the gymnasium’s facilities?”
“That is exactly what I am implying, Prince Havenbrock.” The little thing nodded with a smile. “However, I wasn’t necessarily intending to utilize it in the manner in which you perhaps assume.” He finished that sentence off by gesturing to a pile of now-ruined flotation artifices of some rubbery consistency. One resembling a round pastry, one resembling an ottoman, and another being a container that he quickly opened to reveal a deluge of snacks and beverages. “I was intending on using the pool for aquatic therapy, if you understand my meaning.”
There was a pause as I needed a moment to connect the dots.
“So, you were here, to simply lounge atop of the pool.” I concluded.
“A bit eccentric and skirting the line of expectant decorum, but it is one of my lesser known pastimes, yes.” The prince admitted with what I could only describe as an open look of abashment, one that when paired with his puffy fur, and harmless disposition, put me in mind of what Emma must have seen and felt with the foxes of the library.
“Of course.” I acknowledged with a nod. “And I am assuming that this pastime of yours was rudely interrupted when you arrived and encountered-”
“That vile bull?” The Crita’s features scrunched up, yet not once did I feel an ounce of threatening posture from the small creature, as even that attempt at a scowl looked more like a pup attempting to emulate a snarl. “I had arrived just as he seemed to be busy casting some sort of a barrier spell above the pool. At first, I assumed this to be a sort of jab at my character, and so I confronted him about the indirect assault on my leisurely intent. However, no sooner did I realize the severity of the situation, did the bull push me to the wayside, right before you managed to break free of your undue entombment, or thereabouts.” The little thing paused, before shaking his ‘head’ from side to side. A remarkable feat, for it was difficult to tell where his head started and where his body ended given the puffy fur that ensconced him in an almost spherical shape. “A truly sordid affair if I do say so myself, Prince Havenbrock.” He continued, meeting my gaze with that of a friendly, empathetic stranger. “In any case, I wouldn’t want to keep you here for much longer than necessary. This turn of events has been tiring enough for the both of us.”
“Indeed, this truly was unexpected, to say the least.” I responded plainly, lacking the energy to really engage with any of this more than I could at this point.
Not a moment later did two disruptions in the manastream occur simultaneously, as it seemed as if we both had the same idea of quickly switching from our leisurely attire back into our regular clothes.
“I do hope you weren’t hurt by the bull though.” I quickly added, my more courteous and civilized sensibilities returning to me now that the blood of battle had subsided from my veins.
“Oh, the vile thing merely pushed me. A truly despicable act of brutish savagery befitting of the common beast, but nothing that could hold a candle to the transgressions imposed upon you today, Prince Havenbrock.” The Crita replied politely, as we began making our way out and through the gymnasium’s long corridor, and back towards the castle’s winding pathways. “In any case, it is… comforting in a sense, Prince Thalmin — to have someone civilized to talk to following those brutish acts.”
“You flatter me, Prince Rostarion.” I replied reflexively.
“To be quite frank, I did have my reservations on the content of your character prior to this meeting. However, upon finally being acquainted, I can see now that those reservations were entirely baseless. It is clear that in this game of appearances, that the strong and self righteous can oftentimes overrule those who are genuine of heart. Today’s events have, in a sense, served as an unwelcome but necessary wakeup call, one that validates my fears over Lord Ping, and invalidates my concerns over your character, Prince Havenbrock.”
“And what might those concerns over Lord Ping be?” I replied curtly, deciding to go along with his narrative, if only to hear him out.
“That Auris Ping may not be averse to brutish acts of subterfuge to undermine the peer groups he deems to be a threat to his ambitions. It’s quite obvious to me the reasons why he went after you of all people.” The little thing paused, as if giving me a window to reply.
Which I did.
“Go on?”
“Your newrealmer’s little stunt on the last emergency assembly, Prince Havenbrock. The man was humiliated in front of the entire year group as a result. The newrealmer has essentially made an enemy out of him from there on out. There’s now, effectively, a target painted on each and every one of your peer group’s backs.” Rostario cautioned, prompting me to narrow my gaze on the otherwise harmless-looking hamster.
“I thank you for sharing your observations with me, Prince Rostarion… but please, what point do you wish to make here?”
“The matter I wish to address, Prince Thalmin, is that the man has elevated himself from a nuisance to a palpable danger. And if he’s willing to go to these lengths to correct for past slights, there’s no telling what may happen as we push forwards through the year, especially following the house choosing ceremony coming up this weekend.” The little thing reasoned, before shifting his gaze to a more thoughtful and empathetic one. “Seeing as my group has consistently occupied the top three positions in terms of points so far, it stands to reason that the bull’s ire will soon be drawn to us. And whilst Lord Qiv Ratom is indeed a wise and capable leader, he is only one man, with three other peers to work with.”
“You’re proposing an alliance, then?” I cut through the fat of the hamster’s reply, prompting the man to, thankfully, nod in acknowledgement with no further pleasantries involved.
“I wouldn’t be so brazen as to call it an alliance outright, Prince Havenbrock. I moreso wish to make it clear that my own group harbors no ill sentiments towards your own, and will continue to do so, if only to ensure that we may at least live in peace whilst at war against this brutish menace. Alliances, and future agreements, can come later. Right now, I only wish to extend a hand of goodwill, nothing less.”
It was around that point that we both paused at the foot of a set of stairs, marking the junction in which we needed to part ways.
“I will… consider it, Prince Rostarion. If Auris Ping continues to play the role of a nuisance, and a dangerous one at that, it would be in the best interests of both of our two groups to maintain a working peace. Regardless, I sincerely hope the man does not prove to be a menace to you, as he was to me.”
“I appreciate the kind sentiments, Prince Havenbrock.” He nodded, right before we parted ways.

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30, Living Room. Local Time: 23:20 Hours.
Thalmin
I arrived at an eerily dead dormitory once more, the lights within the public spaces acknowledging my presence with a tastefully choreographed glow.
I hesitated for a moment as I walked past Emma and Thacea’s room, considering whether or not the matter of Ping should be best reserved for the morning, or if it was prudent to address it now.
This hesitation lasted a few moments, before I started noticing a distinct string of conversations from within, answering my concerns of whether the pair were still awake.
“Sorry for saying this Thacea, and I’m not implying that you are but… could you be careful with your talons. I’m afraid it’ll-”
“I assure you, Emma. Your instructions were extensive and your demonstrations were in-depth enough for me to handle this aspect of the operation.”
I took that opportunity to knock on the door, leading to a series of hurried footsteps towards it. And as the door opened, I noted a distinct lack of Emma, prompting me to put two and two together. “I apologize if I’m interrupting anything.” I announced. “I’m assuming you two are in the middle of your em-redd experiments?”
“That is correct, Thalmin.” Thacea nodded.
“Ah, well, maybe we can talk about this another time-”
“No, no. If there’s something urgent, it is best to state it outright.”
I let out another sigh, before I leveled my eyes once more, preparing for the long winded explanation ahead.
…
Twenty-five Minutes Later
…
The reactions from Thacea, and even Ilunor, were practically about what I expected. With a measured and appropriately sympathetic look of concern from the former, and a somewhat amused yet annoyed look of acknowledgement from the latter.
It was Emma however, who’d exited the tent moments after I arrived, that truly gave me pause for thought.
It was, naturally, difficult if not impossible to read the earthrealmer’s reactions. Her armor served as a barrier not only for the features most readily readable to the average observer, but also to the most seasoned of conversationalists, as everything from her facial features through to her nonexistent manafield were blocked.
The only thing that anyone could truly work off of, was her speaking mannerisms, and what feeble attempts at exaggerated body language she could muster through sheer will and determination; and even those were encumbered.
Yet despite that, and all the encumbrances involved, I could feel the palpable shock and outright rage that seethed within her. As I could only imagine the features of a lupinor with little to no reservations on maintaining the guise of civility, snarling beneath that helmet of hers.
“Thalmin.” Emma continued, restructuring her response, in a tone of voice that struck a certain chord within me. “Let me ask you this again. Did he hurt you?”
“I am unharmed, Emma.” I responded immediately.
“Good.” The armored earthrealmer responded compassionately, before effortlessly returning to that seething and outraged persona. “Because if that walking prime rib dinner had done anything…” She paused, as if taking the time to ponder all the possible means of violence at her disposal…
But instead of saying anything outright, she instead remained silent.
That silence, and a lack of any definitive threat, spoke louder than any descriptive rant ever could.
Moreover, the sheer emotion behind her voice prior to that ominous silence was enough to compensate for all of her armor’s encumberances, and then some. A fact that resonated deeply with the lupinor within me.
As unlike the Nexian propensity for layering intent beneath decorum, Emma seemed poised to simply make herself known when she needed to.
“I… appreciate those sentiments, Emma.” I acknowledged with a deep nod. “But I believe the fact I managed to defeat him in combat, or at least, prompted him to flee like a complete coward; is proof enough I can handle myself. Though… I am certainly not averse to a brother or sister in arms to join in the fray.”
This seemed to lighten Emma’s spirits somewhat, as she placed a hand on my shoulder, shaking it about.
“This begs the question…” Thacea finally interjected, after a few moments of deep and serious thought. “What could be Ping’s true gambit here?”
“To posture and potentially send a message? Like a thug or a bully I guess?” Emma offered.
“The fact remains we don’t necessarily know how far he would’ve taken this, a fact which would very much define, or redefine the intent behind this attack.” Thacea countered, prompting me to reply in no uncertain terms.
“Believe me, Thacea. If you were there, you’d know he was serious in his intent.”
“I do not discount the traumatizing events, Thalmin. I… simply wish to ascertain just what his angle is. Because from my vantage point, this attack seems brazenly-”
“-idiotic.” Ilunor chimed in.
Prompting the avinor princess to simply dip her head in acknowledgement. “-foolish, but that is likewise an appropriate descriptor.”
“Maybe he is just that dumb?” Emma offered up once more. “He’s hot-headed, and clearly angry from the whole library card incident. So maybe just like any other hot-headed bully, he’s going after the ones he thinks he can handle, alone, and without backup.”
“I could see that.” I acknowledged.
“The simplest answers are sometimes the ones that turn out to be true.” Thacea acknowledged. “However, given the complexities of the Nexus, we shouldn’t discount more elaborate possibilities.”
“Mal’tory.” Ilunor suddenly blurted out darkly. “It’s his class tomorrow, isn’t it? And the Academy isn’t suspending his classes either. Now, this may seem improbable, if not outright impossible… but I believe the lack of any changes to the academic roster means that whatever damage you inflicted on him, Emma… could not have been enough to kill him outright; at least not permanently. Which means that maybe, just maybe, he recovered sometime today, and has recruited Auris to his own aims.”
That theory hit me hard, prompting me to turn towards Emma with a worried expression. The silence from the otherwise chatty earthrealmer was enough to clue me in to her state of mind. And the anxiety welling within her, especially when it came to what was up ahead tomorrow.
“That’s a possibility.” Thacea acknowledged. “Perhaps, in light of you becoming an intrinsic aspect of the library’s games, Ilunor — you’ve effectively become immune to the man’s machinations. Thus, Mal’tory is now looking to target either me or Thalmin, in order to replace us with a more pliant student.”
“We won’t know anything, nor can we come to any conclusions.” Emma finally interjected. “But there’s only one way to be sure, and only one way we can rule that possibility out.” The earthrealmer paused for a moment, making an attempt to crane her head to meet each of our gazes. “We need to resume the library’s mission as soon as we can, and we’ll start by infiltrating his office.”
“After we assess the situation in tomorrow’s classes.” Thacea urged. “We will see, definitively then, the state of the man, and from there — we continue our quest against the black robed professor.”
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(Author’s Note: Thalmin manages to escape from the clutches of this vile attack and we are introduced to a character that's only been touched upon once during the introduction of Qiv's group all the way back in the early chapters! :D Rostario Rostarion the XXI is certainly quite a character, and he's definitely going to be playing more of a role as things progress! I'm opening up the roster of characters of the other main peer groups we're dealing with, and I think this is the first of Qiv's group we're finally seeing expanded upon! Beyond that, we also get to see how Thacea's helping with the MREDD experiments, helping to slot foods into the MREDD on her side of the tent while Emma stays inside monitoring things! And of course, we get to see how this might all tie back to our favorite black robed professor, whose classes are due to be taught on the next school day! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Two Chapters are already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 78 and Chapter 79 of this story is already out on there!)]

Part 1
V
The day continued on like normal. I was expecting to see some cops stationed around or something, but that wasn’t the case. Once the first period passed, I headed to math and saw Erin sitting in her usual spot, drawing in her sketchbook. The math teacher also sat at his desk, but he seemed different. He looked spacey, like he hadn’t slept at all last night. He just kinda sat slumped at his desk as he stared blankly down at it.
I didn’t think about it too much as I went over and sat next to Erin. She closed her sketchbook and looked at me with a smile.
“Hey, how was chemistry?” she asked.
“Ah, same old, same old… Do you know what’s up with the teacher?” I asked, motioning to him.
“I don’t know, he was like that when I got here,” she said.
“Huh…” I said, staring at him. His eyes seemed to almost be a hollow shell of what they used to be. They were more pale and seemed to have a glaze over them. Something about it didn’t seem right, and as more students came in and sat down, the more something seemed wrong.
“I’ll be right back,” I said as I got up and began walking over to him.
“Uh, wait. Hold on!” Erin said as she got up and followed behind me. I slowly walked over and stood in front of his desk. I waved my hand in front of him, but he didn’t even acknowledge me.
“Something’s wrong,” I said as I walked around his desk and stood next to him.
“Brad, I don’t think you should touch him,” Erin said as she placed a hand on my shoulder. Half of the class that was there already, stared at us, waiting for something to happen.
“Erin, do me a favor and find a security guard and bring him in here,” I said, while keeping an eye on the teacher.
“Uh… okay,” she said as she ran out of the room and into the hallway. Mostly I wanted her to be out of the room before I tried anything, I didn’t need her attached to this.
“Hey, teach? You okay?” I asked, carefully nudging his shoulder. He didn’t seem to react; the only thing he did was keep upright. I studied him a little closer. His skin was cold and clammy, and he seemed to be in some sort of trance. I stared into his eyes to get a better look at what was going on with them. They almost seemed as if he hadn’t blinked in hours, but the worst part was that I could’ve sworn I saw something moving in his pupil. I took a closer look at his dilated pupils, only to see what I could only describe as a thin trilobite swimming by. I recoiled a little bit, realizing there was something in his eye, and that was the time Erin came back in with a security guard.
“Back away from him,” the security guard said as he motioned me to move. I got out of his way and let him investigate, while Erin stood next to me. She placed a hand on my shoulder again, I looked up to her as she seemed worried. I was actually surprised by that, considering what happened yesterday. I figured she would be more neutral towards what was happening, or maybe even happy.
“Hey buddy, are you okay?” the security guard said as he snapped his fingers in front of his face. The guard nudged his shoulder the same way I did, but the teacher just readjusted himself upright again. The guard grabbed his radio.
“I’m going to need assistance in classroom 213, something is wrong with the teacher,” he said. I felt Erin’s grip on my shoulder tighten as the teacher suddenly shot up from out of his chair, screaming as he clutched his head.
“THE WALLS!!! IT’S ALL AROUND US!!! IT WILL COME FOR US ALL!!!” he yelled as he suddenly began slamming his head against the whiteboard behind him. The security guard tried to restrain him, but as if he was given ungodly strength, he threw the guard off of him and over his desk, before screaming at the top of his lungs and slamming his head into the whiteboard with all the force he could muster, caving in the front of his face as blood exploded from it. The whole room screamed in terror, with most of the students running out of the room, aside from the few that either fainted or were frozen with fear.
Erin and I stood there, being unfortunately close enough for a good chunk of the blood to splash onto our clothes. The security guard rushed to his feet, but it was already over. The teacher had fallen to the ground in an unmoving state. I wasn’t sure how to react, as I was also frozen in fear. I stared at his body in shock, not knowing what to do next. It was then that I noticed the teacher's head twitching. The weird trilobite thing I had seen before was crawling out, as two long antennae, followed by several little legs emerged from his forehead. It plopped onto the ground before turning towards Erin and I. It must have been the size of a hamster, much bigger than when I first saw it. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the security guard was also staring at this thing.
As the trilobite faced us, it seemed to use one of its antennae to wave at us, before skittering towards the door. The security guard, Erin, and I watched as it made its way out.
“What the fuck was that?” Erin said. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but she was actually holding on to me with both arms. I grabbed onto her arm as I was still trying to process what just happened.
VI
Erin and I were escorted to the office to give a statement to a police officer, however we had to wait for him to show up.
…
Erin and I sat in the nurse's office as a way to keep privacy from prying eyes. We had to take our bloody clothes off, so I changed into my track clothes. In Erin’s case, her hoodie was the only thing that got covered. Since she was behind me, I took the brunt of most of it. It was almost surreal to see her not wearing it.
Surprising no one, or at least not me, she wore a black t-shirt underneath her hoodie. However, I confirmed that her hair was actually pretty short, maybe touching the top of her shoulder at the longest. Her hair was also no longer covering her eyes either. Turns out that with the hood up, it pushes a lot of hair forward. You’d think I’d know that already, but I’ve never had hair long enough for that to be an issue.
I sat across from her in the chair, while she sat on the bed. I laid on it last time, it was only fair that she gets it this time. She looked around with nervous eyes as her foot bounced up and down non-stop.
“Erin?” I asked. Her eyes suddenly darted at me. I again was thrown off by her red and yellow eyes, but I redirected my attention back to her.
“You doing okay? You seem really nervous,” I said.
“And you’re not?” she asked, turning her whole head towards me.
“I mean, a little, but I think physically I’m fine,” I said. I thought about it for a moment, was I going into shock somehow? I feel like maybe Erin’s right, I should be freaking out a little more. However, I went over the list of shock symptoms in my head, but I didn’t have any of them.
“How are you always so calm?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she looked at me with confusion. I shrugged my shoulders.
“I don’t know, I’ve always kind’ve been like this,” I said. She tilted her head to the side as her mouth opened slightly, her eyebrows furrowed as she judged me. With her hair out of the way, she became more expressive with her eyes and eyebrows, making her face extremely animated.
“You’re really not bothered by much, are you?” she asked, closing her mouth as she tilted her head down for a moment, before looking back at me. Her face suggested that she was pondering something, and I could see in her eyes that she was conflicted about what she wanted to say.
“I’m not… I guess,” I said as I thought about it… Maybe I need to see a therapist…
“Can I ask you a weird question?” she asked.
“Shoot,” I said.
“How do you look at humanity?” she asked. Now I was the one tilting their head.
“Elaborate,” I said.
“What is your view of humanity as a whole?” she said. I looked blankly up at the ceiling as I thought about it. It was a strange question and I had never thought about it before.
“I think of humanity as a big basket of apples. Most of us are good, but there are some bad apples, and those bad apples can make people think that it ruined the whole basket. When in reality, the bad apple was just the one that stood out the most… Does that make sense?” I asked.
“I think so; the worst of humanity seems to stick out more and is more noticeable as a result. There’s tons of good people, they’re just overshadowed by the assholes of the world,” she said.
“Exactly,” I said, giving her a smile.
“So you believe people can be redeemable?” she said.
“Well, within reason. Some people are just assholes,” I said.
“So what’s your opinion on the assholes of the world? Would you be sad if something happened to them?” She asked.
“Okay, what is this about?” I asked, as I started to feel like something bad was going to happen for the third time today.
“Just humor me for a minute, would you?” she asked. I felt a little worried, but I gave it a thought.
“I don’t think I would. I’d mourn the loss of human life, then move on,” I said. She stared at me with furrowed brows for a moment longer, before relaxing her expression and crossing her arms. She let out a small sigh, before looking back at me with a slight smile.
“You really aren’t a fan of people, are you?” I asked.
“I thought that was obvious. And if you’re wondering why I’d ask the question? My response would be that I’m not sad that the teacher is dead. He was kind’ve an asshole anyway,” she said, before laying down on the bed.
“That, I can understand. It’s still a strange question though,” I said.
“I know, but as we’ve been through a lot together recently, I felt okay with asking you that question,” she said, putting her hands behind her head. Her body was just long enough that her feet dangled off the edge of the bed.
“I think the term is ‘Trauma Bonding’, especially after what happened today,” I said. She let out a small breath of air, amused by my comment.
“You’re a good guy, Brad. Thank you,” she said. I gave a smile. I think I could officially say that she and I were friends now. However, my train of thought was interrupted as the cop that was going to take our statement, walked into the room. I was a little surprised to see that it was the same cop from the morning assembly.
“Good morning you two, I am officer Calleb. I’ll be taking your statements,” he said. Now that he was up close, I could see that he was a taller man, maybe even a little taller than Erin. His hair was buzzed, but was a dark brown from what I could tell. He wore a smile on his face, but his eyes suggested that he’d rather be somewhere else.
…
A few minutes later, Erin and I had just finished giving our statement and officer Calleb, and after writing everything down, he seemed skeptical at best.
“So, your math teacher began screaming the words “The walls. It’s all around us. It will come for us all”, before smashing his head against the white board until his head exploded, sending blood everywhere. Afterwards a “trilobite” crawled out of his face, waved at you, and skittered out the door?” he said, raising his eyebrow at us in disbelief.
“Yeah, I know that sounds like we’re lying, but--” I said, before he cut me off.
“No, I believe you, the security guard said the same thing,” he said as he put his notebook back in his coat pocket. “Or at the very least, you all saw something very traumatic and it all scarred you in a similar way.”
“Okay… so now what?” Erin asked.
“Well, you two are free to go. We need to close down the school so we can do a thorough investigation. I recommend that you two go home and relax for the day and destress, I know what you witnessed today was difficult,” he said.
“But what about the weird creature that came out of the teacher's face? It’s still somewhere in the school!” Erin said.
“Leave that to us, we’ll do our best to contain whatever this thing is,” he said. Erin looked worried, she seemed almost scared that the weird trilobite was still somewhere in the school. I mean, I can’t blame her.
“We should probably go, Erin. Let’s leave the cops to do what they need,” I said, trying to give her a sympathetic smile, but she looked at me with such worry and fear glaring from her eyes, that I completely lost my train of thought. She looked back at the officer.
“Listen to your friend, we got this covered. You two have a good day,” the officer said as he stepped out of the nurses office. Erin stared at the ground, wide eyed.
“Erin?” I asked, standing up from the chair I sat in. I waited for a response, but she didn’t say anything, she just looked lost in thought. I slowly walked over to her and nudged her shoulder. She looked up to me. Her eyes stared holes into mine.
“I need to show you something, but not here,” she said as she grabbed her shoulder bag.
“Okay?” I said, reaching back to the chair I sat in and grabbed my backpack. I turned back around to her as she grabbed my wrist and led me out of the front office and to the parking lot.
“Erin? Where are we going?” I asked.
“To your car, I need to talk to you where there’s no prying eyes and no one can hear us,” she said. The parking lot was already pretty empty as most of the students had already left. We walked quickly to my car and climbed inside. I sat in the driver's seat while Erin sat next to me in the passengers.
“Okay… what do you want to show me?” I asked. She didn’t say anything, she just reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out her sketchbook and opened it to a certain page, then handed it to me. I looked at her for a second with confusion. The object that she has been keeping secret from everyone, and had a breakdown over when someone took it from her, she was now letting me look at. I looked at her for a moment, scared to even touch it, but she put it in my lap and looked at me expectantly. I looked down at the page she opened to, and only found myself more confused.
On the page was an in depth drawing of the white trilobite from earlier. I took a moment to appreciate the artwork, then realized it was a total anatomical diagram of it. I looked over to her confused, not entirely sure what she meant by showing me this.
“This isn’t something you drew today, was it?” I asked.
“No, I drew that two years ago,” she said as her arms were crossed. She was stressed out. Her leg bounced up and down, making the whole car shake.
“Okay… what does this mean?” I asked.
“It means something is fucking wrong…” she said, looking forwards as she stared out the front windscreen.
“Okay… this has just got to be a coincidence or something, you’re not responsible for what happened to the math teacher,” I said.
“But what if I am? What if… what if somehow, that drawing came to life in some way?” she said.
“Okay… first I can guarantee that is not the case. Stuff like that can’t happen. You can’t just magically draw something and have it appear in real life. Second, this must be some freak coincidence. Whatever that thing is, must be some sort of undiscovered creature or something. You didn’t kill him,” I said, placing my hand on her shoulder.
“It waved at me, like it recognized me,” she said, staring me dead in the eye.
“It’s antenna just twitched,” I said. She looked like she was about to say something, but she stopped herself and closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath, I could see a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Read the description of it,” she said, tapping the adjacent page. I looked down and began reading.
‘The Mind-Digger is a parasite that implants itself inside the brain of the host, feeding off of the grey matter and absorbing the knowledge to bring back to the Hive Queen. Once infected, the host will experience a near catatonic state , by this point it is already too late and the host is as good as dead. The only way to get rid of a Mind-Digger is to destroy the head of the host. This is the only way to guarantee the parasite's death and keep the local Hive Queen from acquiring any knowledge.’
“... Okay, that’s creepy,” I said, looking back at her. She looked as if she were trying to hold back tears as her face became red and flustered.
“I… I think the things in my journal are coming to life…” she said, covering her face with her hands. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do in this situation. The correlation was written clear as day, but I still wasn’t convinced that it was the causation. However, I knew one thing was clear; Erin needed some sort of comfort and reassurance. I placed my hand on her back and rubbed it gently as she started crying.
“I don’t know what’s going on here, but I know that you are innocent, and this is just a one in a million chance that you had drawn a thing that unknowingly resembled something in real life. It is not your fault,” I said. Erin suddenly jerked forward as she covered her mouth with her hands. She was going to throw up again. She went to reach for one of her bags, but she realized that they were all in her hoodie. Instead, she opened her door and ran towards the closest tree, about fifty feet away. Thankfully, she made it just in time as she ducked her head behind the tree and began to hurl. I let out a small sigh as I got out of my car and began walking over to her.
I walked slowly, trying to give her time to get everything out before I got there. But this one must have been particularly bad because she was there for a couple minutes. I wasn’t sure how she was able to even hold that much inside herself, but it wouldn’t stop coming. After about five or so minutes, she finally stopped and leaned against the tree. Her breathing was raspy and she looked paler, like a shade of alabaster.
“Erin?” I asked. She wiped her mouth with her wrist, then looked at me. Her mouth was smeared with blood.
“Erin!?” I asked, shocked at the sight of blood that began leaking a little from the corner of her mouth. I walked up to her and placed my hand on her cheek, trying to get a better look to see if her mouth was bleeding or if it was coming from inside her.
“Are you okay? Do I need to take you to a doctor?” I asked, looking her in the eye. She seemed weak and on the verge of passing out, but the corners of her mouth curled down in a frown as she was about to cry again, but instead of crying, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around me, hugging tightly. She buried her head into my shoulder as she cried. I was taken back for a second, before I wrapped my arms around her and gently cradled her head.
“It’s going to be okay, we’ll figure this out together,” I said as I looked down at the ground where she stood, only to see a puddle about five feet wide and ten feet long of a pale mucusy sludge with a thin layer of blood on top of it.
“You’ll be okay,” I said, staring at the puddle in extreme concern.

I’m gonna jump right in, so me 15 f and my bf 14 f just started dating (3 weeks) and his acts like an idiot around his friends for example he jumps on them (he’s 5’6 and is like 120lbs max) he climbs the bleachers and just general stuff like that. I started dating him hoping he would be an idiot around me too. Wrong. He’s super clingy, one day when he came over we went out and went hiking, we came back to my house, it was a pretty normal day, and this man lays down on my bed and says “come here” in the softest most caring tone ever, and I’m just like what? So I lay down with him and cuddle up with him and within 30 minutes he’s asleep. It doesn’t stop there though. The other day he came over and was playing with one of my hamsters (it’s his hamsters that I bought lol) and I’m laying down watching him and TikTok, and he just comes and lays on my chest, about 20 minutes in he use he big boy muscles (Im 5’2 and 146 lbs) and rolls me over so I’m on his chest. When we go out in public he holds my hand so I don’t wander, he puts my legs on him in the car, follows me around my house. Oh. And at school, he doesn’t just not talk to me, he will stand by his locker until I get there, and in the afternoon when we leave I’ll go to his locker and he’ll say “I love you” in front of teachers. Y’all this might just be the bare minimum but it’s the best. Someone let me know. Side note, none of this is grammatically correct there’s like 20 missing periods lol.

Soon to be 40m. I have suffered from anxiety for a very long time, my whole life I suppose. Always thought I was immune to depression as I have been an energetic and passionate person with many interests. Then this winter I began to experience lots of fatigue and negative feelings, and rapid disinterest in being productive. I thought it was my health, but have been getting a clean bill of health from every doctor I have seen.
Then this week I began thinking more about turning 40 and I can't stop crying over a feeling of loss. Loss of time squandered and opportunities missed. I have a wife and kids, and I have been running my own business for 10 years now. I feel like there are some good outcomes, but my level of ambition and the potential everyone always told me I had in my life has never been realized. I have made so many mistakes, wasted so much time with laziness and distractions a plenty, and I find myself in sort of a hamster wheel now related to finances and responsibility that has no end in sight. I feel like I blew it to be honest. Things could be so different.
I am neglecting my business and clients for a month now and I just feel an infinite well of painful emotion underneath it all. In the last 24 hours I realized I am clearly depressed. It is a horrible feeling and I want to get out of this hole and return to being productive.
I immediately thought of one of the genuine mood boosters of my life, and realized exercise has always had the best outcomes for me, even if I have never been consistent. I remember times where my mood lifted as a result of aerobic exercise to almost euphoria levels. That is how I found this reddit, thinking of something I could do soon to help myself.
I feel like I can't control anything right now, except maybe my health. In recent years I have been my heaviest ever, and in rapid decline physically. So I can't help but suspect it is part of everything I am feeling. A symptom and a cause feeding itself.
I guess I am just here looking for hope. I am so scared about how I feel, like I could lose myself in this sea of despair, and let my family down. After this post I am putting on exercise clothes and going for a run despite the fact that all I want to do is lay in bed and stare at the ceiling.

Match Information:

 
Match: PSG vs Barcelona
Competition: Champions League
Date: Wednesday, 10th of April 2024
Time: 21:00 CEST / 15:00 EDT - Convert to local time
Venue: Parc des Princes, Paris (France) - 47929 capacity
Referee: Anthony Taylor
 

Lineups and Squads:

 
Barcelona - Official squad confirmed
GK: Ter Stegen, Iñaki Peña, Ander Astralaga
DEF: João Cancelo, Álex Baldé, Araújo, Íñigo Martínez, Christensen, Alonso, Koundé, Pau Cubarsi, Héctor Fort
MID: Gavi, Pedri, Oriol Romeu, Sergi Roberto, Frenkie, Gündoğan, Marc Casadó, Fermín López
ATT: Ferran Torres, Lewandowski, Raphinha, João Félix, Vitor Roque, Lamine Yamal, Marc Guiu
Unavailable: Álex Baldé, Gavi (injured) Pedri, Frenkie (doubtful)
Not called:
 
PSG - Official squad to be confirmed
GK: Keylor Navas, Sergio Rico, Alexandre Letellier, Arnau Tenas, Gianluigi Donnarumma
DEF: Achraf Hakimi, Presnel Kimpembe, Marquinhos, Lucas Hernández, Nuno Mendes, Nordi Mukiele, Lucas Lopes Beraldo, Milan Škriniar, Layvin Kurzawa
MID: Manuel Ugarte Ribeiro, Fabián Ruiz, Danilo Pereira, Vitor Ferreira, Lee Kang-In, Carlos Soler, Warren Zaire Emery, Ethan Mbappé Lottin, Senny Mayulu
ATT: Kylian Mbappé, Gonçalo Ramos, Ousmane Dembélé, Asensio, Randal Kolo Muani, Bradley Barcola
Unavailable: Sergio Rico, Presnel Kimpembe, Nordi Mukiele, Layvin Kurzawa (injured) Achraf Hakimi (suspended)
Not called:
 

Form guide:

 
PSG

• Form: [W] W D D L
  
• Goals scored: 7
  
• Goals conceded: 5
  
• Last match: Real Sociedad 1:2 Paris Saint Germain - Champions League
  

Barcelona

• Form: [W] W W W D
  
• Goals scored: 8
  
• Goals conceded: 1
  
• Last match: FC Barcelona 1:0 Las Palmas - La Liga
  

 

Head-to-head:

 

• Last meeting: Paris Saint Germain 1:1 FC Barcelona
  
• Date: Wednesday, 10th of March 2021, 21:00 CET
  
• Competition: Champions League
  
• Threads: Pre-match thread Match thread Post-match thread
  
• Highlights: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ei-4cqgx06Q
  

 

Comments (Post-match thread):

 
Author: theboxv6 Score: 432 pts Source

We had a mountain to climb, and I can’t accuse the team of not trying. We looked flat in the second half which really didn’t help our case but at least we didn’t get ran through because of it. I like that for once, we’re coming away from a lost UCL tie where the story isn’t that we had no fight and looked as though we didn’t belong. I just wish we didn’t fall apart in the first leg because of the “let’s see how much damage we can prevent” mentality. And for fuck’s sake, Dembélé please put your shooting boots on next time!
Outside of the performance, I’m feeling positive because I know we’ve got a president who’ll actually work with the coach to plug the correct holes in the team and work at getting us back to a competitive level on the European stage once again.
And on another note, some of us need to take a serious look at ourselves. Instead of attacking players at the first chance, observe the situation in its entirety maybe? Lenglet didn’t make a clumsy challenge or anything, it was a shit decision on the ref’s part for the pen.

Author: atthebatman Score: 350 pts Source

This is just me but I never thought we had a chance of actually coming back. But having witnessed the way we performed, I have to say that we’re left disappointed by the score line. So many chances have gone begging. Chance after chance after chance and we just didn’t convert. I thought we played really well, especially in that first half. Navas was excellent but we also made him look good to some degree. Dembélé was really wasteful. He’s clearly a great talent but I’m not sure he’s a player you can trust in the biggest games. Also, not sure if anyone cares but I thought Firpo was really good today.

Author: hahasanji Score: 266 pts Source

Good game, but we should’ve been more clinical.
Our team is slowly getting better and better. The 3 at the back formation should be used more often

Author: PeppaPig85210 Score: 225 pts Source

we did our best, and it's obvious that it wasn't good enough.
If Messi does end up leaving, then you have to believe that goal will be remembered for a long time.
They were not better than us.

Author: LifeBD Score: 201 pts Source

We played a fantastic game it’s a shame this wasn’t the first leg. Our efficiency in front of goal has haunted us all season and continued to do so in this game. Dembele needs to take about 10% power off his shots but his runs to get into position to shoot were good.
De Jong didn’t put so much as a foot wrong today, brilliant all game.

Author: [deleted] Score: 156 pts Source

Defensively I would say Im actually proud. Offensively my fucking lord

Author: rw7997 Score: 132 pts Source

Down vote me all you want but I was extremely disappointed with Dembele in front of goal today.

Author: Blisspc Score: 84 pts Source

Basically, no one on the team is willing to take shots other than Messi and Dembele, but Dembele can't finish.
​
And with a penalty retake robbed from us, and bullshit penalty call given the result was expected.

Author: vault101kid Score: 74 pts Source

Had them in the first half not gonna lie ;)
In all seriousness made a decent account of ourselves today but missed/poorly taken chances cost us dearly. We'll win the Copa and maybe the league to make up for it! Till next season!

Author: mattisafootballguy Score: 69 pts Source

I am totally content with this performance. Very, very good from us, such a performance we would not have seen in recent years given the scoreline + the early conceded goal.
Should we have comeback? Probably, and that's really saying something!
Koeman's doing an excellent job.

Author: Epsilon76 Score: 64 pts Source

All I wanted after the first leg was that we would put in a good performance in the second leg, and we did that, so it’s a bit silly to be frustrated but we created so many quality chances in the first half that it still somehow stings a bit. It’s the story of the season for the most part, we’re playing well but simply not converting the vast majority of our chances. I don’t want to lay blame entirely on Dembele as I think he brings a lot of dynamism and chaos to our attack, but if he wants to take the step up to the next level of player he needs to be more clinical, simple as.
Ultimately, we’ve still got a lot to be pleased about. If we played like this in the first leg we’d be in the quarter finals. We’ve consistently improved over the course of the season. We’re in the CDR final and La Liga race is still on. There’s still a lot left in this season, and the fact that we clearly outplayed PSG in their stadium should be a nice shot of confidence heading into the rest of the season. Still a lot to play for and a lot to be excited about over the next few months even if the CL drought continues for another season.
Considering where we were this past summer I’m very pleased with how Koeman and the young players in the squad are developing. A bright future is ahead.

Author: hentaiHamster Score: 48 pts Source

Honestly it wasn't an easy game to begin with, I'm happy with a draw on this game.

Author: Everyman__ Score: 44 pts Source

Damn if only we had already discovered the 3-man defense system in the first game...

Author: LordSpeechLeSs Score: 42 pts Source

If you had to pick one match from this season to summarize 2020/21, you might as well pick this one. We created a boat-load of chances, wasted away almost all of them, had some nice link-up play here and there, missed a penalty and made an individual, defensive blunder.

Author: dinosbucket Score: 41 pts Source

Proud of this team!!!

 

Quotes:

 

• Xavi
  
• Kounde
  

 

Latest News:

 
[Squad] - The FC Barcelona squad for the trip to Paris - fcbarcelona.com
[Article] - João Félix: 'Big games get me going most' - fcbarcelona.com
[Article] - Luis Enrique looking forward to a 'great match' - fcbarcelona.com
[Article] - Ludovic Giuly: 'Barça have more experience in this type of game' - fcbarcelona.com
[Article] - FC Barcelona and PSG: the statistical duel ahead of the big match - fcbarcelona.com
[Article] - París Saint-Germain, unbeaten for five months - fcbarcelona.com
[Article] - Shared histories between FC Barcelona and PSG - fcbarcelona.com
[Article] - Similarities and differences from the last meeting with PSG - fcbarcelona.com
[Article] - PSG, fond memories for Robert Lewandowski - fcbarcelona.com
[Article] - FC Barcelona activates 'Visiting Supporters Security and Control Protocol' for PSG fixture - fcbarcelona.com
[Training] - Back to training - fcbarcelona.com
[Quiz] - Which FC Barcelona players are missing? - fcbarcelona.com
[Quiz] - Can you complete the Barça v PSG puzzle? - fcbarcelona.com
[Article] - When and where to watch Paris Saint-Germain v FC Barcelona - fcbarcelona.com
 

TV/Online:

 
Livesoccertv Liveonsat FCBarcelona.com
 

[Chapter Beginning]
[Wiki] - [First] - [Prev] - [Next]
Jeremy knew his place. Sure, after 4 years of marriage with Victoria he had gone from not being able to hit the broad side of a barn to being better than an average shot; but make no mistake, he knew where his most effective place was: ensuring the weapon his wife held was provided with a steady stream of ammunition, for the madame was a very thirsty beast.
As Jeremy slotted the next case into place, its deadly contents ready to be dispensed, he couldn't help but take a moment to stare at Victoria: her feet planted firmly in the dirt, screaming with fury and joy as the weapon in her hand turned any Uhae dumb enough to poke their heads out of cover into a fine mist. Jeremy would be lying if he denied feeling a tinge of jealousy for the way his wife held the weapon between her hands.
The world around him was a cacophony of sound and chaos, as all combat was. The noise of gunfire and yelling mixed with the drum beat of explosions rocking the landscape as ODIN continued their barrage upon the approaching Uhae. At some point, the Estorian slavers were slowly working out what was going on, or at the very least starting to get an inkling into the true goals of this assault.
A little too late.
This wasn’t just a Terran force, defending the location as vehicle after vehicle left the Uhae prison, carrying rescued civilians towards the safety of a space-faring vessel. While on a per capita basis the defending forces were largely made up of Terrans, the flurry of gunfire taking down all that opposed them came from a variety of sources. A little teddy bear Hatil raked bursts of fire from a position of cover while a feline Kigrel fired a grenade launcher into the Uhae ranks. Of course, there were Parket as well, lots of them.
A song was starting to form, not just the metaphorical beat of battle, but the sound of avian singing as the Parket began to scream out their cries of rage and vengeance against those who had wronged them, a song that promised death upon those who stood against the flock. It was a chorus that the Avians weren’t even fully aware they were singing, each voice taking its place in a symphony almost fully by instinct.
If Jeremy had more time to listen, there would be many interesting things to be found in this song. For starters, the words weren’t translating, making the complicated chirps and notes sound truly alien. The potential reasons for this were numerous: Perhaps the song was less about words, more about feeling, an instinctual memory of when their pre-sapient ancestors would sing amongst the trees? Or the words might be old. So old that nobody bothered to translate the language, or even knew what they meant anymore, the sounds and concepts of the chorus passed down through history with their exact context lost forever. It was an interesting-
Any thoughts Jeremy had on the matter were interrupted as a sharp pain erupted from his shoulder, as a stray bolt of plasma fire caught him as he ran to grab the next set of ammunition, the impact causing Jeremy to fall to the ground in a spinning motion. While the Terran forces were handily winning this engagement for now, it wasn’t coming without some cost, the incoming fire occasionally finding a valid target. Such as Jeremy.
As he lay there on the ground, the familiar feeling of being shot racking through his body, he couldn’t help but think a single thought.
God damn it not again.
This state of self-pity wasn’t to last, however, as Jeremy felt the telltale warm-cold feeling of someone applying Medigel to the wound as it drove the pain away. Slowly getting back up, he turned to see a little Quoxxett staring back at him, an empty pack of medical supplies in hand. It was a strange sight; the little beaver-like hamster was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and little straw hat, both tattered and torn, dirtied over the trials of the last few weeks. He looked like someone more suited to sitting on a beach drinking cocktails… which was probably what the small rodent was doing on Far-Sa-De before the Uhae attacked.
“You alright mate? Yeah, you look alright. Don’t get shot again, you’re fine.”
Quoxxett took a few more moments to stare at the Terran to ensure they were ok and no worse for wear after being shot, before rushing back towards the fray, towards whatever Terran got injured next. The Quoxxett might be too small to fire a weapon, but they could still help in other ways. The fighting continued as more and more truckloads of people were being driven out of the prison.
There was still plenty of ‘helping’ left to do.
—----------
TANK was focused on the important task of transporting their cargo safely to the drop-off point, which involved them taking a more systematic approach than their previous carefree use of overwhelming force. Each shot was calculated and deadly, efficiently dealing with the threat as risk-free as possible. It was honestly… easy.
ODIN was providing near-perfect intelligence from their position in the sky, highlighting incoming threats to the convoys of civilians being transported to safety. It was just as well since TANK could feel the urge to check on sensors they knew they didn’t have access to right now. Keeping themself distracted from spiralling again was vital to the strategy, the AI couldn’t afford to lose focus, not this close to the end.
Although if they were being honest… TANK’s firepower might have been unnecessary at this point. A few of JOSH’s units were aiding in protecting the convoy, the rest helping Ramsey defend the prison with the rest of the Terrans. Scellestra…. Scellestra was legitimately terrifying, even to the AI. If TANK was being fully realistic about their capabilities, they didn’t know if they could stop the Woolean if they wanted to, at least not without a dedicated EMP device.
Note to self: Buy EMP weaponry and have it installed, just in case.
The Woolean didn’t have a solid cohesive form right now, as that wasn't their main focus. Instead, their goal was simple: disassemble anything approaching the convoy not being blown up by TANK.
There was no sound, no real visual cue to the threat lingering in the air. A light mist just above ground level perhaps? Infantry that entered the area would just… collapse and fall into pieces as the nanobots went to work. Scellestra had been busy during their time on the planet, and while there was an overall limit to how large they could grow… the distance the Woolean could cover was measured in miles.
JOSH> Can I just take a moment to point out the hypocrisy of everyone saying my storage of the Tritian was dangerous, while you let Scellestra walk around in public places able to do this with little to no checks on their overall mindset?
ODIN> To be fair… I did not know they could do this.
Scellestra> Nobody ever asked.
JOSH> You are kind of terrifying.
—-------
ODIN watched from their position in orbit as the stream of civilians entered the vessels, lifting off from their positions and warping away to safety as they left the planet and headed towards Terran Alliance space. At this point, it was by the book, a masterclass in the logistical and military power of AI and humans working together in tandem.
It felt almost… wrong. As if nothing going badly meant that something was being missed, some horrible trick was about to be played. Yet there was nothing. ODIN could see the Uhae’s communications, their desperate attempts to get aid from the rest of the Uhae forces within the galaxy or their attempts to properly organize an assault upon their position. The enemy had half worked out what the Terrans’ intentions were, but at this point, it was too late.
Even better, ODIN watched with some satisfaction as Ivan finally got onto a vessel leaving the planet, curiously being followed by the form of the Woolean AI close behind him as both left the Uhae.
Scellestra> I am going to get on this vessel with Ivan, I do not want to leave him again and I want to ensure he safely gets home.
ODIN> That is fine, I understand. We are nearly done here, so your aid is not required anymore. 67.2% of the prisoners are off of the planet, and based on our current projections we will be leaving 24 minutes before the main Uhae fleet gets here.
TANK> The remaining extraction targets will take two more trips to fully move the remaining targets. The enemy forces have been unable to launch an effective attack and my forces are still at 94.9% effective capacity.
JOSH> Defense here is going well, with minimal casualties. Also, Ramsey seems to be having, dare I say it, a lot of fun.
ODIN> That AI worries me.
TANK> I like their style.
JOSH> I might be new to all this, but it feels like this is going very well. Are we really going to do this and get anyone out without any issues?
TANK> NO NO NO NO NO NO NO DO NOT SAY THAT!
ODIN> Really JOSH? Why would you say that?
JOSH> Wait what did I say wrong? ODIN> By saying nothing is going to go wrong, something is now going to go wrong!
Scellestra> This makes no sense. The outcome of an action has nothing to do with statements made, the possibility for success is exclusive to statements made on the progress of said actions.
TANK> You just wait 15 minutes for the universe to respond, baiting the god called Murphy is a fool’s errand...
—----------
Saelihn was trying her best to keep the ship from sinking, but everything was going wrong simultaneously. The Terrans had found them. She didn’t know how they had found them, but find them they had. The AI had come back for vengeance over what they had done, and they were getting it in spades.
“Focus on maintaining a communal mind, then bring the planetary defences back online.”
She spoke softly but with a measure of command over the communicator.
“We can’t, my queen! Every time we try to create the link, the Terrans, they keep interfering. They-”
The response cut out suddenly as the connection with the other side was lost, causing Saelihn to sigh. That had kept happening, and ‘interfering’ was a good way to describe what the Terrans were doing. The Uhae hadn’t been unable to form a communal mind at any point during the attack, simply due to the sheer breadth and scale of the assault.
It was almost as if ‘they’ were back. Not that that would be possible, since they had been long destroyed by an aggressive AI race.
Saelihn stared down at the visual representation of the planet that had been turned into a battlefield. Everything was red, everything was being assaulted at once. The Terrans had control of orbital space and any attempted assault on Terran forces ended in defeat.
“What are they up to?”
The question to her three advisors wasn’t rhetorical. The Terran attack didn’t make any sense. They were currently taking heavy losses, but the royal fleet itself would soon arrive, and then this paltry force would be wiped clean. Just attempting to destroy their military assets was a losing proposition, it would make no logical sense even as an act of righteous revenge.
Unless they have another goal?
“The prisoners. They’re congregating there, the ground forces are heavier and we’ve lost full contact with the area.” The first advisor responded, after a thought, pointing to a spot on the map.
“This secondary point? Several ships have been seen leaving orbit.” the second advisor added.
So that was their plan. Hit everything and distract our forces long enough to get the spoils of our attack out.
In retrospect, it made a lot more sense, although the question as to how they knew exactly where and what to hit was one that needed answers at a later date. But first, they had to deal with the Terran threat. Now that it was pointed out, the density of Terran forces was obvious compared with the general background noise of the targets being struck by the orbital and enemy ground forces.
This would explain why they were starting to leave, each of those ships filled with the prisoners they had taken. Presumably attempting to time their evacuation to leave before the royal fleet got here, leaving the Uhae with nothing to their name for such a military action. Saelihn scanned the map, taking a moment to notice the complete lack of forces in the area. The Terrans had done their jobs well.
Do I just let them go?
Saelihn was not one to throw good after bad. If the Terrans were going to leave, then letting them leave might have been the best option. They were outmatched and needed to regroup and rethink their plan.
The entire thing hadn’t been a full waste of time: the Parket had been a valuable source of information, and even the little they’d gleaned from the Terrans would presumably be useful at some point. In addition, the data from this attack would aid in the Uhae adjusting their strategies for AI opponents. One single bad engagement didn’t define a war.
Yet, there was something niggling at the back of her brain as she thought about the situation. This wasn't a standard Terran assault. If it was, this war would have been over far sooner. If Terrans were fully integrated with their AI and every AI could do this, then the war with the Terran Alliance would be going even worse than it was.
Meaning this had to be a special case.
Were there limitations to the AI that Saelihn didn't know? Different skills for each digital program? Was this some of the best the Terrans had to offer? Would stopping this threat here and now be a critical moment in the war?
There was only one way she could tell for certain: by capturing the heretical digital lifeforms and ripping the information right out of their hard drives. There was only one way to do that though: by delaying them till the royal fleet arrived. Which would be a problem, since none of their forces could compete with the Terrans.
Apart from one. Using that resource could go badly if it was destroyed. Was the information and removal of an important Terran piece from the board worth the risk?
There’s only one thing for it.
“It looks like this situation needs our direct intervention. Come take a walk with me, my advisors, let us show them the power of the Uhae royalty.”
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