This is a crossover fanfiction between original fiction titles: Nature of Predators by SpacePaladin15 and The Last Angel by Proximal Flame respectively. All credit and rights reserved goes to them for making such amazing science fiction settings that I wanted to put this together.
You can read The Last Angel here: Be warned, it's decently long, and at its third installment so far. I highly suggest reading it before reading this, or this story will not make sense.

Otherwise, enjoy the story! Thanks again to u/jesterra54 and u/skais01 for beta and checking of work!
First Prev Next (soon)
Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command
Date [standardized human time]: October 24, 2136
What I was doing was risky.
I kept thinking this, as I prepared to spring the idea I worked on. I had Samantha and Carlos look into acquiring a shuttlecraft, for the purposes of infiltrating Aafa. It took a day and a half longer than the UN's initial start date, but I promised them it was worth it. They believed that, and set to work on getting one through their few Venlil resources in the UN. Now that it was in my hands, I was on a trip to Aafa, alone, with no backup or human handlers to my name. They believed I wasn't a flight risk...a mistake on their part, but in a way, I was still performing their goal.
I was still suspicious of Federation governance, even before the humans took stage on the galactic scene. The Sivkit's refugee crisis turnaway, the Krakotl's military extortionate practice, the Federation was full of shady characters who ought to be exposed. I was even working on a source towards what I thought was frivolous and mismanaged Kolshian military spending budgets, but it was interrupted by the human's arrival, and I had set it to the wayside.
Though, neither of those were supposedly leaked by 'me'. Cilany was the one who put it into proper public eye, even if I was her source...
How I wish I could have her here with me, her sharp skill for coercion and interrogation of valuable info in interrogation and interview alike. But the colony she was on was under siege by the Arxur, who struck while the Federation fleet had gone to Earth. All the more fuel for the fire of my suspicions...
I could only hope that Cilany, and by extension the rest of the people there would hold out despite their actions against the humans. None deserved the Arxur thrust upon them.
It would have been far too risky to try and stop by a planet under siege by the Arxur. I would be, at best, blown to smithereens without hesitation, and at worst...eugh...don't think about it, don't think about it!
Plus, I didn't want to give any human assets an idea on my plans currently. I was already going behind their back on this, betraying their trust on this front.
If my hunch is correct, then the Arxur might be coordinating with them, and by extension, feeding info about Federation homeworlds back in their twisted little game. Seeing me pop up in a report would turn heads.
I'm sorry Humanity, but this is for your own good. You cannot trust the Arxur, and the only way we can prevent your manipulation by their Dominion is through convincing a proper attack on them from the Greater Commonwealth.
But now, I found myself on a course to Aafa, alone, all on my lonesome, seeking to do something akin to Noah, but to the most powerful person in the galaxy one-on-one...Nikonus. I felt my ability to pull rank and my reputation would precede me better than the predatory reception of humanity, even though they didn't deserve it. This was a pragmatic decision, not an emotional one…
The trip was not very eventful, roughly [6 days] one way in a ship with as underpowered of a FTL drive as this, but I was trying to sell an infiltration mission, not a courier one. I wouldn't have my claws on anything top-of-the-line for speed in a shuttle. But as my ship hit disruptor fields in-system, and I got a ping from Gunships asking for classic hailing codes, intent to visit, and the like, I sent a message that likely would have shocked their crew.
"This is Captain Sovlin of Federation Fleet Command. I have escaped human custody, and need to request an audience with Nikonus."
WARNING: Formatting of memory transcription non-standard, conversion may cause loss of data. Do you wish to continue?
[Yes]
Memory transcription subject: Chief Nikonus of the Kolshian Commonwealth
Date [standardized human time]: October 24, 2136
I walked the outer rungs of the capital gardens, looking for relief to the mounds of bureaucratic paperwork back in-office. A good walk could clear ones mind of most stresses every now and then, and given the circumstances nowadays, I think a longer one is in order.
The Affliaf blooms are quite vibrant today. That's a good omen, for what it's worth...
With the state of the galaxy in a comprehensive deadlock over what to do with humanity, I had to take to some under-the-table talks with Nishtal's military. While the Kolshian Commonwealth was not publically for humanity's invitation into the Federation, they were clearly vocal that they did not wish for the problem to be removed, so to speak. And so, I had to get my tentacles dirty planting seeds of inspiration to some military leaders in and around the Krakotl Alliance. They, thankfully took the predator threat as seriously as they ought to, and mobilized to rid ourselves of the pests.
It should have simply ended there. Humanity should have been exterminated, status quo restored, the whole cropland tilled. But no, a fleet of twenty-thousand failed to even kill a fledgling space-faring species like humanity! Even with the Venlil Space Corps on their side, the battle should have been a wash! And the worst part, was that the true believers on Venlil Prime were giving me garbage intelligence on the matter.
'A ship of unknown origin swooped in and saved humanity? One that was unheard of up to this point'? No, a wad of ectolan spulk, there was no chance it was humanity keeping something in reserve that could even the tide! They likely were feeding false data to their allies, the manipulative little apes. No, humanity being saved stunk of the Dominion's play, and that was worrisome.
Did Giznel and his lackeys go back on our deal, seeing blood in the water? I knew we groomed a deal out of Betterment that'd give them all the wrong ideas...
Needless to say, I had to now figure out where to start on approaching them and confirming our deal was still on the table, and to cease and desist assistance with humanity at once. If they didn't want to play ball anymore, we'd have to consider some Shadow Fleet excursions to pave a path for a public route to invasion. That would change the whole dynamic of the Federation's control structures, and was absolutely not the path this great galactic Commonwealth should go.
So now, I am stuck in a dilemma. Do I assume Giznel and the Dominion are still in on the deal, and haven't made allies with humanity in the backdrop, or do I take the only opportunity we get, and start mounting an offensive while the Dominion's unprepared.
Decisions, decisions...
Not long into my musings, an aide contacted me over holo-prompt. Odd, I didn't have anything scheduled this soon, and central planning proceedings weren't set to start up again until the following day, what was it?...
"Chief Nikonus. There's been a development on the outer edge of the system. Bulwark Patrol states that a shuttlecraft of Venlil-make warped in, one individual alone on scans. They identified itself as Captain Sovlin, seeking refuge from human captivity."
Oh dear. That's not anything I could have expected. The last thing I need right now is more complications...but that wording...
"Why hasn't he been boarded and processed yet? I am hardly the first authority to come to for a asylum dispute."
"He asked for you specifically, your graciousness. Said to request an audience with utmost urgency."
"Is that so?...Hmm." I am currently free of responsibilities for a solid chunk of time. While I did not know Sovlin personally, his record spoke for himself. If he truly was escaping human custody, it was likely he found something out about them that they shared by accident, not knowing he wasn't loyal to them.
If he's come here for the reason I think he might've, there's a very real chance...
"Send him my way as soon as possible then. He's lucky I can spare an audience now."
...that said opportunity has just walked itself right into my garden.
Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command
Date [standardized human time]: October 24, 2136
There was thankfully little fanfare or media attention in bringing my shuttle in. The decision to come alone clearly disarmed their initial worries of human sympathizing or terrorist actions, and soon enough, I found myself amongst an escort of soldiers to Aslou's government district.
I had been to Aafa various times throughout my life. In my tenure as captain, you tend to visit the homeworlds of the larger species at least once in a lifetime, if not several. Most times were not very exciting or noteworthy...but this time, the visit felt downright off.
The gardens were as beautiful as ever, but there were little walking them. The Songbedas were oddly quiet, making an unsettling atmosphere. The population out in the outer and medial rungs of the city split to make way for my escort, as if expecting trouble on their doorstep should they draw attention.
Given what happened with humanity, I wouldn't put it past them. Why is it so...empty?
It was forced to be pushed aside as we finally reached the inner rings of the Capitol Spire. A gleam ran up into the heavens, and a sequence of block outcroppings spun around the structure, green architecture patterns spiraled up and up. It was a beautiful idol of the dedication of megalithic engineering and urban planning of the Kolshian Commonwealth. Under any other circumstances, I would have once felt comfortable walking under its shadow, but now I felt only unease at being in its monolithic shade.
Across from us, not far up the steps leading to the Capitol Spire, was Nikonus and his guards. They were clearly waiting for me. Nikonus looked pleased to see me, somehow. Was there no clear indicator...?
Does he trust my cover?
"Captain Sovlin, your reputation precedes you! I could have sworn you were interred so deep you weren't getting out. Yet, you say you broke out?"
Here goes nothing. Make it believable, Sovlin...
"I...yes, your graciousness. After I was imprisoned on Venlil Prime, the humans kept trying to get me to turn on the Federation. They were convincing, but my loyalties ultimately lie in this government, Chief Nikonus." I put my chest into the last bit of the statement, trying to give emphasis.
He seemed to mull on that for a split second, before he made a gesture to follow him. "We may talk more about your escape inside. I assume what you have meant to say to me is not for public ears?" He glanced about, subtly tilting his head out at the few gathered crowds out and about Aslou's Capitol District. Given how open and flat the area was, with the slightest elevation, you could practically see for [kilometers].
He was right on that. My suspicions would not be for the general public to hear, lest it cause a panic. "Yes. It would not do for the media to run wild with. It could cause unrest."
The Kolshian's eyes seemed to glint at that. "On that, you and I can agree. Come, to my offices." Him and his troop started up the stairs, and I followed soon after, my 'escorts' following closely behind. I could not yet tell whether I was actually in good trust with Chief Nikonus, or whether he was playing up the kindly elder act. Politicians were always shifty like that...
We walked a long way, took several lifts to reach the original Kolshian suites of the Capitol Spire. Passing through halls of elaborate aquatic decor, and indoor habitats, we approached our destination: Chief Nikonus' personal office.
He waved away all but two guards to stand outside the office, as we walked in. As he sat down, and the door closed, the visual look of the Kolshian shifted. His old, elderly demeanor sharpened to a politics-honed edge. The tone of the room felt far more off.
"I hope you know how much your position here is troubling, Sovlin." His voice had none of the kindness it held before. In its place, laid a piercing tone of seriousness. "If I'm anticipating right, you came here with distinctly bad news, given the state of galactic politics and military scuffles. That is...if I can even trust your story at all." He got up from his chair in a way that betrayed none of his age from before, and began to pace.
Or was his earlier light hobbling also just a disarming act?
"I mean really, you mean to tell me you turned yourself in to humanity for 'crimes against sentience', and then go back on your self-inflicted punishment? All so you could come to Aafa to let me know of something I'm already decently certain I know of before you even tell me? Your loyalty in question is a mind game Sovlin. I do not appreciate mind games. You'd best get to your point quickly and succinctly."
There was a chilling quality to that statement. I did not want to see what lied on the end of that thinly veiled threat.
A hitch came to my throat, but I pushed through the discomfort. "I...Chief Nikonus...I do not revoke my feelings about humanity's sentience, but neither do I revoke my faith in the Federation's dream. Despite their predator biology, they are capable of empathy and care for things outside what we'd consider stereotypical predatory behavior. They still deserve a chance at being within the galactic community, of being part of the Federation; no matter what preconceptions are of predators, they are clearly different. But, there's something we distinctly missed about humanity, and I think the Arxur are making an attempt to exploit it."
WARNING: Formatting of memory transcription non-standard, conversion may cause loss of data. Do you wish to continue?
[Yes]
Memory transcription subject: Chief Nikonus of the Kolshian Commonwealth
Date [standardized human time]: October 24, 2136
"You've seen the empathy tests, right?" Sovlin mentioned. Of course I had, it was only the thing that had kept me from having their ambassador Noah shot on the spot, where was he going with this?
"Yes, I have. Are you saying there isn't empathy for them?"
"No, Chief Nikonus. They are just as empathic as before. The problem is in how they use it. If a protective instincts in herbivore's is to block the danger from the person, then a predator's instincts is to remove the danger."
Huh?
"I'm not seeing the problem here, Sovlin. Aggression versus protection is a choice all sentients can make, even if one is uncouth for most herbivores to make."
But my rebuttal didn't shake his look any. No, there was mortification interwoven throughout it still.
"Follow with me here, still. The human's empathic desires to latch onto anything as a companion is an odd case, but a documented one. They are looking for friends among the cosmos, and given the first thing they found was the Venlil, they took to them immediately. When they found the Federation, they too attempted to befriend us. And over the Cradle, despite our best efforts to dissuade them, they were curious of the Arxur too. I would know, I was there."
Hmm, so the humans have been making some attempt at contacting The Dominion. Given their Prophet's Word, and their temperament for predators, they likely would act receptive if given some chance. More fuel to the fire...
I motioned him on further. "They...interrogated a Arxur above the cradle. They told them of how Federation first contact went; how the Arxur were starved by the Federation releasing a bioweapon, and how it lead them into conflict during the uplift."
I walked over to my desk, and sat down. My tentacle hovered over a concealed sidearm underneath the lip, just in case. "And...did you believe what that Arxur said was true, Sovlin?..."
Sovlin sighed in denial. "No, your graciousness...but I'm afraid...the humans do." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he talked. "The Arxur have picked up on a weakness we didn't see, Chief Nikonus. Likely due to them being predators themselves. They know humanity is a pack predator, so they're seeking to manipulate the humans onto their side using their empathy."
I brought my tentacles away from the gun while I considered, because this was only meaning one thing.
Those bastards ARE going back on the deal! Sovlin, your loyalty has just saved me a world of hurt...
But before I could get a word in edgewise, he continued. "They are using the empathy the humans latch on with to some effect. Given the choice between a galaxy that shuns and tries to kill their species, and a fellow predator lending a claw in the interim, why would they pick anything but the Arxur? Why wouldn't they pick self-preservation?"
Sovlin looked at me with a worried face. I shared in the worry too, the long-term survival of the Federation was unraveling from the worst case scenario. "The humans might be coaxed into cruelty as bad as the Arxur because of that. We missed how their empathy was their bloodlust. And now the Arxur are here to collect on our mistakes."
This is bad. While we had some agreement beforehand with the Dominion, the human's existence on the galactic stage changes the game. The Dominion would look to seek true control of everything, rather than just playing even with us. The [Prisoner's Dilemma] is broken.
...But there is still a solution. And Sovlin proved himself loyal enough to help with it.
I turned back to him, trying to assuage his worries. "Sovlin, while this is very bad news, there is a solution that the galaxy isn't considering here."
Sovlin piped up. "Yes. We'd need to form an intense first strike on Wriss itself, to devastate the head of their government, and collapse their attempts to indoctrinate humanity. Humanity might protest, but it would be for their own good that the Arxur fails to get their claws on them. From there, we can try to reestablish friendly connections, even as strained and painful as they are..."
Oh, you poor naive fool Sovlin. Don't worry, there is a better way.
I enabled a soundproofing field interladen in the walls of my office, for what came next was sensitive. "Not...quite Captain Sovlin, a good plan, and one that will be considered soon. But...what if I told you, there was a way to remove that fellow predator’ link?..."
First Prev Next (soon)

saw someone do this last year and it really helped me get an idea of the courses i would be doing so thought id do the same with my courses incase it helps anyone else!
First Semester: (2.5 credits)
CHM135: Chemistry: Physical Principles

• i found this course so hard at first. so hard i scored 50% on the first midterm which absolutely recked me bc i was good at chem in highschool. i decided to put a lot of effort in this course from then on and ended up getting a 100% on the 2nd midterm and above 90 on the final. ended up with a 94% on the course, so working hard gets you the grade for sure. do the tutorial questions theyre so helpful and v similar to what comes on the tests and finals. the lecturers were SO good for chm135, loved them all, they actually teach well.

BIO120: Adaptation and Biodiversity

• i hated this course with a passion. its about ecology which is the topic i find the BORINGEST thing to learn about. i hate it so much. i hated the labs, the lectures - it was all so boring. the lecturers for bio are so monotone and boring i hated them so much. all exams were multiple choice tho and not too hard EXCEPT for the final. i think the class average was probably really high before the final so they made the final SUPER hard, a lot harder than the midterms which was annoying bc i expected something similar in difficulty like the midterms were.

MAT135: Calculus I

• the most unorganized course. the lecturer was new and went in circles and didnt know how to explain any concept. the course coordinator was bernardo which is so bad lol. the tests were fine. the ACTs (applied communication tasks) were SO badly explained i had to go to sooo many office hours to get info. i think they ended up curving the grade cause i ended up with a A- which i know i couldnt have actually have gotten bc the course went SO badly.

CSC108: Introduction to Computer Programming

• LOVED this course. if ur looking for a good bird course to do this might be it! i only studied 4 hrs for the midterm and 4 hrs for the final and ended up with an A+ on the course. the lecturer was so bad, he was so unorganized, felt like he didn't prep at all for his lecs but that was fine since all content is learnt through videos they make u watch before class and do questions on (you can find this vids on yt btw). i had absolutely no programming experience when taking this course and yet it was fine, so if youre worried about that, dont be! the course is designed for those with 0 programming experience. the assignments were also so fun to do (although some parts def did make me want to throw my laptop across the room :))

PSY100: Introductory Psychology

• didnt think this was as bird of a course as uoft reddit made it out to be. its not a hard course, but it requires effort which you dont have time to give to an elective course. i took it with denton so maybe thats why, there were so many readings from the textbook and u had to buy the textbook to access the homework which was SO annoying. got an A- in the course through knowledge i had from a level psych.

Second Semester (2.5 credits)
BIO130: Molecular and Cell Biology

• again, hated the lecturers. SO monotone. felt like sleeping in lectures. ended up skipping majority of lectures and teaching myself through the textbook and slides. i also attended a few of yips lectures instead of the lecturer i was enrolled in bc i heard he was good. its true, yip is good he's phenomenal. if youre looking for a good prof, its him. lecture hall was ALWAYS packed bc i guess a lot of people did the same thing as me, skipped their own lecturer to go to this one. loved the content of this course, so much better than bio120. ended with an A+ thankfully. its kind of a memorization course.

CHM136: Intro to Organic Chemistry I

• had 3 different lecturers for different parts of the course, they all were AMAZING. explained concepts so well. i also loved organic chem from a level chem so this course was nice. it started getting pretty hard near the end but it was fine after watching youtube vids + going to office hours to understand the content better.

MAT136: Calculus II

• this course was SO AMAZING compared to mat136. i think it was bc there was another coordinator that wasnt bernardo. it was Lindsay shorster (idk if i spelt that right) but i had no complaints about inorganization as i did with mat135. lecturer for this course was SOOOOO good i didnt miss even one lecture bc he was that good. his name was Daniel Hudson. i truly felt like he was excited to teach and was so enthusiastic. the course progressively gets harder fs but not too hard to manage with background knowledge of a level math.

CSC148: Intro to Comp Sci

• i took this course bc i found csc108 easy so i was like why not, BIGGEST MISTAKE EVER. this course is so much harder than 108 lmao. it was fine until the midterm. after the midterm it was a shitshow for me lolll. the prof was so good i just found it so hard to understand the harder concepts like recursion and linked lists omg. ended up with an A on the course idk how. i feel like they curved. joonho was so good tho if ur looking for a good prof to pick, pick him. hes funny too.

CSC165 HPS110: The Science of Human Nature

• i took csc165 and then dropped within the first 2 weeks bc it was not for me with no background in proofs lol.. frantically looked for other available courses and stumbled upon hps110 and heard that its an easy bird course so i took it. so this course is about different popular psych topics/ research. there were SO many readings every week like im not kidding they sometimes assigned 60 pages. i never did the readings fully lol. before the midterm and final they give u a bunch of questions that could come up and pick from those to put on the test. so i would just answer those questions fully by looking at the readings, memorize my answers and do the test with that. the TA was such a harsh marker for no reason like please. The worst thing about this course as an international student was that its final was scheduled to be on the LAST DAY possible. i had a 18 day gap between my second last exam and this last exam. i could have gone home 18 days before but had to stay for this stupid course. i learnt absolutely nothing from the course do not recommend it at all lmao.

(Sorry for the long post)
I wake up in the morning and go by the day. On free time I'd do art, guitar and other things. Life seems to be going great.
In life I've learned many lessons. Learned to adapt. But really though? Did I?
I've struggled with insecurities all my life. Being average income, average intelligence, decent at drawing and painting. Beginner at guitar.
But when I'm in social situations, I often feel left out which is all in my head. I know it is. I feel like a narcissist because of this. Maybe I am. But then I saw my friend being in a band and having great succes. He's veryy good. I'm happy truly I am.
But some other part of my brain which I find very unwishful is jealous. My brain keeps wanting to compete and be better. Get better. I keep feeling this feeling of jealousy and fear of missing out. I also sometimes want to feel praised for my work. Or just be praised. Even for the mundane which I often keep locked inside me, not wanting to give in to those impulses.
Also the insecurity of being short has weighed on me so much that it's the only thing I often think of when I'm with people or walk in public places, trying to compare myself to them in a feeble hope that maybe I can be taller than them. (I'm 5.5 ft).
And it really shouldn't matter.
I don't wanna be praised or want any of the attention and I absolutely shouldn't care about height. And sometimes to compensate, It wants me to feel like I have something more unique. I realize that my thoughts happen automatically. I have become mindful. It's pissing me off that I get them.
One might only dream of knowing what actual thoughts go through your head which are kept in the subconcious.
I read once that when you shop and decide to impulsively purchase something (especially expensive or something you don't need) , you feel a whole bunch of deppressing and hopeless emotions which would be very difficult to deal with if it were concious emotions.
Philosophy:
To deal with my problems I often sit there and think carefully and calmly. I think, why should I care? Why does it matter and often think I shouldn't engage in those problems and just leave it. Basically, I don't give a damn mentality. Why should it effect me if I don't care? But I do?
When I've created something great, why should I show it to someone? I've done it a few times, but then what happens? They admire it, are left speechless. But then what? It'll be just the same. The feeling is just emptyness.
Why should I care for praise? Why should I care for the rewards unless?
And how I dealt with my insecurity of being short I ask these following questions:
Am I healthy? Yes
Can I walk? Yes
Am I ugly? No
Am I mentally deficient? No
And etc
So WHY TF SHOULD I CARE.
But my brain works automatically. A lot of things happen automatically. You don't choose to feel something. It happens because of the enviroment and what happens in that enviroment.
And often the other part of me feels different.
I feel the "WANT" to be taller.
The "WANT" to have more money.
The "Want" to be better in guitar
The "Want" to be better in art.
The "Want" to be better than that person.
I often struggle with my own sexuality as well. (Homosexual.)
At first I was attracted to men, but slowly I became attracted to women aswell.
I hate sex. I am repulsed by it. How would I dare to stare in the mirror ever again after the act?
I really tried to exterminate or minimise my sexual desires.
Why am I attracted to women or men? I understand I have a desire to reproduce. But I find it cruel to bring life to someone who will suffer with the burdens of life. Be it physical or mental. They will suffer and suffer in their own way. Maybe more or maybe less.
Going back on track, I don't want to have sex. I want to remain a virgin forever. I don't want to be destracted by constant sexual desires due to the biological hormones that drove our ancestors to reproduce, keeping our species alive. But I don't want to. I want to be moved by my art and inner peace which I thought I found, but struggle to keep.
I've tried to tell myself to be realistic. I often talk to myself in my room, the voices echoing through the hall, often being heard by my roommate.
I often tell myself that any skill takes time to perfect.
And you should accept what is. If you're short, poor and average intelligence, there is nothing you can do and you should work with the tools you have. And to defuse these emotions which often yet still linger, I use logic. It doesn't work most of the time.
I've realised the filth of my human nature. That sometimes I automatically look down on someone. Maybe I'm a narcissist. I don't know. But as soon as I get those thoughts, I try to shut it down with reason and logic and empathy, trying to put myself in their shoes. Even though someone might be acting nasty towards you, ask yourself why? Even those karens on youtube. What have they gone through? What made them that?
I try to accept the reality that I am in and what I am or how I look, but the emotions of want, jealousy and narcissism comes back. I hope to god I am not a narcissist. I really don't wanna look down on people and treat good people or normal people nasty.
I thought I could control these emotions by being mindful. But I really need help with this because I'm slowly losing it as it eats away at my soul often not sure if I should keep living on. Often asking myself why I'm alive on this planet. What is the purpouse of life?
Is it to reproduce?
Is it to enjoy it?
Is it to suffer?
If being alive is just to be enjoying yourself, it's really boring and I get the feeling I'd feel when i think of heaven where you never suffer for all eternity.
But then living to suffer and to feel pleasures, what was it all for in the end? What is all this actually for? In all the infinite life of the universe, what was this for?
The ancient romans suffered, felt pleasures and went through their own things. But they're all dead now and their civilization only just lives on in hisotry.
But then on the other hand if life was all about reproduction, then I would rather be a bacteria or virus instead of a human although I'm more intelligent and have better cognition than a microbe.
But:
What can I do to calm my mind? Or even change my mind?
What can I do to actually not care about my insecurities and things I can't fix?
How do I just sit there and actually be happy for people that are succesful and not feel left out and want to compete?
How do I control my sexual desires so that I can concentrate on my one true love that is art and guitar?

Where is pacific hall book room? I know where pacific hall is but don’t know where the book room is. I need to pick up my biological sciences stole.

Let me explain. On the day of the very first exam I had, Biology, I had just finished my paper with about half an hour to spare. The rest of the time passed by like molasses, just about as boring as watching paint dry.
Until I saw her.
My eyes fell on a woman I had never seen before, and when she turned, my heart fell, into a deep, dark cavern of the unknown, a dangerous ravine, that seemed so endless. I was face to face with eyes the colour of mocha, which gave me the same warmth and the comfortable butterflies that the drink gave me in a cold winter storm. My eyes traveled down the cascading golden locks of her hair, looking so enticing, it would have been so soft to the touch. She smiled slightly at me, and I think I had forgotten how to breathe. My heart welled with an almost uncontrollable warmth at it. The time almost flew by as I gazed upon the almost goddess-like woman who walked around the tables. When she walked up to my table to collect my paper, I tried to look the best I could, but I could barely control myself with her being so close. The lingering warmth of her fingertips on mine as I handed her my paper was electrifying, a sensation I wouldn’t forget for a while.
Over the weekend, I couldn’t stop thinking about the nameless invigilator. While my friends were revising on the theme of kingship for Macbeth, I was wandering, off in my own dreamworld, perhaps she would be my Lady Macbeth, for I was sure I would be her innocent flower, and the serpent under it as well. Anything for her.
And yet again, on the day of my English Literature Paper 1, I could barely focus. Even though we had the most wonderful question about Lady Macbeth, I was always distracted by the captivating invigilator, her stature, her demeanour, her character, all made to be loved by me and me alone. Perhaps she would be my Lady.. someday.
And at that, my face flushed red, to my utmost horror, at the same time she looked at me. I could feel my face tingling with pins and needles, the utter embarrassment absolutely mortifying. I could see her stifle a chuckle at my antics, and suddenly, the world seemed to be just that little bit brighter, the sound of her laugh being the most melodic tune I’d ever heard. I could have sat there, slack-jawed, the entire exam, though I reluctantly dragged my focus back to the blank pink booklet in front of me. I’m sure it was the same colour my face was, at that moment.
She took my paper yet again, but this time, she seemed to lean even closer. I’m sure I was experiencing a heart attack, but I would have died happy knowing I was even acknowledged by such a perfect presence. It wasn’t until I was out of that exam hall, and far from the goddess I encountered, that I realised I had barely even written a paragraph for the only question in that paper I touched.
She was a blessing to me, making the most unbearable time for me at least tolerable, yet a curse.
This has been going on for every exam. Every exam, I haven’t been able to get more than half the paper done. Although, the sound of her footsteps towards me, that signified that wonderful, blessed touch of those velvety hands, that caressed mine so delicately, made it all seem worth it.
Desperately, I come to Reddit for help. I don’t know where else to turn, but I need to get at least the rest of these exams done properly. What do I do?

This is not a joke i was doing my Exam and i hear the loudest gasiest fart in the world and i turn to my left and there is some big guy 1 seat away from (i was very lucky i was closer to him) has farted or tuck a dump don't know which could be both but it wasn't that bad in the beginning but slowly the smell literally diffused to about a 7 meter radius after he kept or shitting or farting it was really funny because some girl in the middle between me and the person was coughing and making puking noises because of how bad it smelt the exam hall has no ventilation basically( it smelt of some like rotten egg and cheese mixed together)after like 15-20 mins of just smelling this guys shit or fart the inviligator then had to get the guy to go to a differnt room because of the smell and somehow the guy confidently stood up and walked to the next room like he just won the world cup or something and honestly he may be the reason i and like whole school were not able to finish our unseen essay because we were laughing for like a good 15 minutes so if the grade boundary is low this year for english literature thank the guy who was brewing up a nasty biological weapon of mass destruction in his ass.

I was 14 when I overheard my mother having an affair with my father's best friend.
​
I was so confused by this that I shut down emotionally until I found the courage to tell my dad.
​
When I told him, he simply said “I know…”.
​
He was a broken man, perhaps beyond repair. Even though I am a man of faith, I have never felt so much pain in anyone else. And I never expected that my father, my hero, my role model, would look at a 14-year-old boy who knew nothing outside the halls of high school and just...break down. Mentally, spiritually and physically, I watched him destroy himself every day. But it wasn't destruction because he didn't care - it was torture.
​
Eventually it got to the point where he was gone for days and was home long enough to get clothes for work. I acknowledge that despite his pain, he still cared for us. But the father figure, the leader of a family, was gone. I took care of my sisters as best I could.
​
However, one day he stumbled in after being away for three days and I confronted him with absolute fury; “What kind of man are you to be so selfish as to not see your own children suffering just like you? Don't you think I don't want to escape this? You don’t think. “Aren’t your daughters hurting either, Dad?”
​
He replied: “Don’t worry about my daughters Cameron. Don't worry about yourself; You’re not even my son.”
​
I did not answer. He was drunk, but I could still hear the conviction in his voice; I knew he was right, I wasn't. My mother had me in front of her and my father started dating a long time ago. He dropped out of school to support me and my mother when my biological father left. He was 17 and had the whole world in front of him, he never did it for me. He did it for my mother and I knew it. I always knew that. But I never thought it was a true theory until he confirmed it. The saddest moment of my life so far is the day my hero, my role model, the man I looked up to and aspired to be a fraction of, denied me. He apologized, of course, and I forgave him, but that didn't change the fact that what he said was actually the truth and that he meant it.
​
I don't think of my father as my father, I actually think of him as a shepherd and me as his sheep. Not born of him or bound by blood, but I am as much his as my mother's, and I would follow him wherever he led me.

Axstrom's Notes

1. The list is here: big jump list
2. The draw (1-5548) is 877, 1520, 4754, 5265, 1478
   1. Drawing 5 so there are backups in case of issues, but the jumper gets to choose among 4
   2. 877 is Earth Final Conflict - A TV show whewre aliens come and uplift Earth but have a hidden agenda
   3. 1520 is Investiture of the Gods - A fantasy tale in Zhou Dynasty
   4. 4754 is Kingdom Hearts Birth by Sleep - a Disney mashup videogame
   5. 5265 is The Fountain - A film about contuinity across time, grief, death, and growth
   6. Jumper chooses The Fountain
      1. Jump Doc
      2. Reddit discussion
   7. Jumper buys access to The Biosphere Supplement
      1. Supplement Doc

Build Notes

1. Drawbacks - None - Part of the point is that you can't have everything
2. Companions - None - This is the journey of an individual soul
3. Origin
   1. Past: Noble - setting the stage for grander thigns
   2. Present: Inventor - striving for progress
   3. Future: Witness - seeing what has become of the world
4. Perks
   1. Noble Thought - free for Noble, stay connected to the people who are affected by your actions
   2. Noble Deed - free for Noble, your actions have greater impact and are remembered and recorded
   3. Inventor's Vision - free for inventor, studying a problem gives increasing insight in how to improve it
   4. Inventor's Intent - free for inventor, your creations are harder to misuse
   5. Improved POV - free for witness, observe / remember events from multiple perspectives
   6. Bystander - free for witness, events can unfold around you leaving you unharmed
   7. All Together Now - merge all your past origins into a complex mind
   8. 500 Years of Practice (Teaching) - mastery beyond mastery of the chosen skill
   9. Soothing Presence - calm strong emotions and suffering
   10. Absolution - If someone genuinely repents, you can allow them to move
5. Items
   1. Meditation Garden - self-explanatory warehouse attachment
   2. Biosphere - Full purchase activates the Biosphere Supplement
   3. Tree of Life Sapling - Grows six immortality fruits per decade, which can (over very long time) grow more trees

Jump Notes

1. I wake up in my room in the warehouse apartments, after shutting myself in without even checking the Benefactor's Lounge the night before
   1. I'm still lingering on the frustration of not cracking the riddle of Allabar, and not being able to solve the problem permanently
   2. But there's no going back, so I commit to facing forward for the rest of the week, and head to the Benefactor room
      1. Once again, there are four envelopes with me, and my big chart of jumps up on the wall, like something from a Kindergarten classroom
      2. As I affix a sticker saying "The Fountain (2006)" to the big chart, a small round outline appears next to it: "Biosphere Supplement available"
   3. On my way to call a team meeting, I catch a surprise outside the apartments
      1. Three of our bard graduates are slowly exploring the area
   4. At the team meeting, I announce my intention to go solo on the next jump
      1. The decision isn't popular, but most of them have waited while I've done gauntlets before, so it's not a big shock
   5. We set up the entertainment room to watch the movie, even though I don't expect that meta knowledge will be much help
      1. For the first time, we don't all fit in the Entertainment room
      2. By count, there are eleven of us (me and ten companions), the Halflings are now up to fifteen after two recent births, and we have nine new bards with us, so we set up a second showing in the evening
   6. Finally, before heading in to the jump, I make one last check of the Benefactor's office to see if there's more information on the biosphere supplement, but though my note has been removed, there is no response, and nothing on the tablet
2. I awake from a deep sleep in a luxurious bed, it is early morning and the sun is still rising
   1. I can feel the absence of my abilities; I am reduced below even bodymod, to the level of a baseline middle-aged man in a world with primitive medicine
      1. Nevertheless, I can feel a gift reaching back in time to me - and as I accept it, I am calmed, no longer distressed by what I have lost
   2. In this time, I have duties, both in the mundane sense of the tasks those around me expect me to perform, as well as a greater sense in which I must try to make this world better
   3. My new gift becomes invaluable in due time
      1. All manner of petitioners and officers come to me with grievances, and each of them are a storm of emotions - no one comes before their Count to declare how satisfied they are with things
      2. In short time, word of my wisdom spreads, and my council is sought by King Ferdinand
   4. I lobby my King with an eye to improving the lives of all involved
      1. It is the lives of ordinary Spaniards that are the measure of his ability as a King, not the mass of his treasury
      2. Colonialism brings with it dangers beyond the obvious, and responsibilities for ages to come
      3. Allowing the priests to destroy artifacts of other cultures does not increase our glory, but diminishes it
   5. Despite my ability to make my case clearly and seemingly overcome all objections, my guidance is rarely heeded when I leave the room
   6. And before long, it seems I have made enemies of those who stand to gain by plundering the New World
      1. They do not discuss the matter with me, or make their displeasure known by facing me down in violence
      2. But as the breath leaves my lungs over dinner, my last thought is that I have been poisoned by a coward
3. I awake from a fitful sleep in a large bed, my wife still asleep beside me despite the chirping of my alarm clock
   1. My first throught is of the date - It is September 7, 1999 - the first day of fall semester
      1. This will not be my first time teaching CS 101, but this time will be different, I can feel the power in my body, my mind, and my soul
   2. I arrive at my office early, of course, and make sure everything is in order - the syllabus handouts are ready, my slides are in order and proof-read, and my TAs have confirmed their preparedness
      1. The lecure hall is large - so many students sign up for CS 101 without any prior programming knowledge, just to see what it's like, or convinced that they will be a natural
      2. As the students file in, they sparsely occupy the massive auditorium, afraid to sit near people they don't know, not fully understanding that for the vast majority of them, this is their first class on campus, their first opportunity to get to know eachother
      3. I exhort them to move towards the front so they can hear and see better, and a few oblige
      4. The first lecture flows like a breeze, the students hanging on my words as I understand what each one needs to hear to understand what the rest of this semester will hold
   3. By semester's end, the students and TAs are in awe, the CS department chair has asked for my materials and told me that spring registrations for CS102 are higher than ever, both of the student papers have run articles praising my class, and the dean of Arts and Sciences has interceded to clear my spring schedule to prioritize my research work on the condition that I teach 101 again next year
      1. I appreciate my grad students and TAs, but I don't have a real family in this life, so I head into the warehouse for winter break
4. I awaken rested and enthusiastic on a beautiful spring day
   1. It is graduation day for the first group of freshman I taught after coming to this jump, nearly four years ago
      1. They have come so far, and I'm fortunate that some of the best have continued to work with me, and three of them will be graduate students working under me starting in the fall
   2. It is also the first day of human trials for the drug, a new anti-inflammatory
      1. We were hoping it would treat chronic inflammatory diseases, but early testing suggests that it may significantly reduce hay fever, which would be great if we can mass produce it cheaply
   3. My reputation at the school has skyrocketed thanks to the combination of my groundbreaking research plus my teaching perks ensuring high instructor reviews as well as students learning and retaining more
      1. My tenure process has been fast-tracked, since the dean is rightly concerned about losing me to another institution
5. I awaken slowly, and awkwardly, as if from a coma, as a cocktail of drugs is released into my body, still restrained on my cryobed
   1. Our vessel, the Cyllene, is essentially a large asteroid with a hole carved in the middle, stuffed with propellent, equipment, supplies, expansive aquaponics facilities, and a relatively tiny living area
      1. Cyllene was said to have nursed and protected Hermes, as this vessel must nurture and protect us, the first observers, and hopefully, colonists,
   2. As my body and mind resume normal function over the course of 90 minutes, I get a slow trickle of updates on the status of the Cyllene and our mission
      1. The mission clock says it's 202 years since we left Earth, but thanks to time dilation, Earth has experienced 221
      2. Computer Block 5 (of 8) is currently undergoing automated reconstruction as the block with the highest error correction rate at the time the last automated reconstruction completed
      3. 1575 individuals are currently in cryosleep, and 25 (including me) are active, all sufficiently healthy
      4. I am still Dr. John Axstrom, revered teacher and groundbreaking computational pharmacologist, but my consciousness seems to have jumped forward a few hundred years, skipping past the development of miracle cures, life extension medications, and cryogenic preservation of humans
   3. As I realign with my memories and identity, I remember why I'm here
      1. If colonization proceeds, the coming generations are going to need exceptional teachers if they are to learn their place in the universe, and I'm one of the best there ever was
      2. Our mission is expected to take about 750 years from departure to arrival, and though the vast majority of that time is spent in cryosleep, we take shifts being "awake" to ensure systems are functioning and keep eachother mentally and physically healthy
   4. Since the monitoring systems will throw a fit if I straight up disappear from the vessel, I take a long ride out to the external "observation" check, out of the range of most of the sensor systems
      1. There's not really much to observe in deep space - it's like the night sky, as the ancients saw it with no light pollution, but from a different perspective
      2. Here I quickly form a stunt double duplicate, hand over my electronics, and duck into the warehouse
   5. The warehouse clock confirms my suspicions - I'm nearly seven years into the jump
      1. Since it looks like this isn't going to take nearly 1000 years, the team hasn't been going full-stasis mode
      2. The bards have been poring over J-Borg's personal library as well as the impressive collection of the warehouse media room
      3. But the reason I came is the Tablet of the Free - I'm stuck on a large but still confined deep-space vessel until my scheduled return to cryosleep - how is that supposed to entertain the boss?
      4. After confirming nothing interesting is in the warehouse, I head back to the observation deck, and stash the portable door I've been using back into hammer-space before re-merging with my stunt double, and taking the long trip back to the living area
6. I wake up to an unfamiliar synthetic beep - apparently the Cyllene's version of a doorbell
   1. When I open the door, one of my crewmates tells me that our directional antennas have picked up some unusual RF activity that seems to be coming from our destination system, and they want me (as the on-shift programmer) to help the astronomer, comms, and operations staff to help make sense of it, and ensure we're not about to get nuked by a magnetar or something
   2. Initial findings were sparse and inconclusive - just occasional pulses of a signal that must have been very strong and highly directional at the time of transmission, to reach us so far away
   3. But I had access to diagnostic tools that the astrophysicists and comms staff didn't, for all their training and equipment: a series of perks specifically for teasing out the needles of relevance from the haystack of noise
      1. And as I looked at what we were seeing, and what we weren't, the answer became clear: these radio bursts looked just like a primitive form of RADAR
      2. At first my colleagues on the Cyllene were skeptical, but the evidence kept mounting, with 4 additional series of "pings" being detected in the next six weeks
   4. With the spectre of extraterrestrial intelligence hanging over the Cyllene, our XO followed protocol, and ordered the full complement to be wakened from cryosleep to assist in the work to come
   5. Within six months, we had fabricated and installed a much larger purpose-built directional antenna array on the surface of our asteroid hull, and reports of different signals were coming in almost daily
      1. We needed all the extra hands, even our mining and terraforming experts were lending a hand with signal analysis and attempts to form patterns
      2. The whole crew felt the urgency and wondered at the situation - temporally, it would mean that their early experiments with RADAR and initial RF broadcasts would have happened at about the same time as humans did those things on earth, and if they developed at the same rate as us (a big if), they would likely be more advanced when we arrivedd than humans were when we left (and thus the technology of our vessel), and would almost certainly see us coming
   6. The coming months flew past, each bringing further confirmation of suspicious, but with it frustration, as we had been unable to extract a coherent signal - the broadcasts we could pick up didn't appear to be using either amplitude or frequency modulation
      1. More than once I brought signal samples to the warehouse team, but they were just as stumped as us
      2. Even more "esoteric" means didn't work - we tried every variation of "Tongues" and "Comprehend Language" spells on printed, audioized, and even engraved versions of the RF signals we caught, but they all failed and the representations seemed full of too many discontinuities
   7. I could feel my new Inventor's Vision working on the task of how to decode these signals, and about two years after the first pulse was detected, I had my breakthrough
      1. The signals didn't represent continuous audio (like human radio) or even piece-by-piece visuals (like rasterized video), but something of each, and a little weirder
      2. They were composed of many (from seven to three hundred, and not consistent at all) micro-audio clips
      3. It was like making an ultra-low bitrate recordding of the voice of every singer in a chorus individually, and transmitting fifty milliseconds of one, then fifty milliseconds of the next, and so one, in serial, and then starting back again with the first voice
      4. We couldn't figure out why they did this, but once I was able to identify the break points between each "voice", I could layer them on top of eachother to make a composite audio version
      5. And that composite audio could be played, and was a viable candidate for magic translation
   8. The entire vessel went wild when I demonstrated the isolation and recombination of the signals to produce audio
      1. The sound of the thing was somewhat like the sound of multiple birds, frogs, and crickets in a forest, in very brief clips
      2. Of course, I didn't reveal that I had access to magic translation - I figured the comms and signals staff (and the one cryptographer) should have to earn their pay
   9. The remaining year and a half was spent in intense research, for them, while I mostly slacked off and tried to make conversation with the people doing important work on this front, since my actual mission here was to "observe" as humans of this universe underwent a sort of assymmetrical first contact
7. I awaken in my weird little pod bed in my weird little capsule room for the last time, perfectly aware of the remaining hours in this jump
   1. After the initial excitement died down, the majority of the colonists were put back into cryosleep, with only the decoding specialists and those "on shift" like me staying active
      1. There has been a lot of anxiety around the Cyllene for the last few months - we are clearly a colony ship and the intelligent inhabitants of that system probably do not want to be colonized, and may well be easily capable of destroying us
      2. There were discussions about trying to reverse course and head back to Earth, but we could do that any time, and the closer we get, the more information we can gather about the system and its inhabitants
   2. It would be cruel to try to skim supplies from this vessel even if there were something I wanted aboard, so I just wait my time out, helping where I can and secretly translating any communications we receive when time permits
      1. So far it has all been rather uninspiring, which makes me even more curious what kind of species would develop radio technology but not transmit any fiction or speeches or poetry
   3. When it's almost time, I once again make the long trek out to the Cyllene's observation deck alone, and split off a Stunt Double, who can at least stay here for a month, while I slip into the warehouse
      1. When I enter, J-Borg greets me and informs me of a message at the Benefactor's lounge
      2. The note on the door says "Supplement Pending - please attend as soon as possible", so I go in to check it out
      3. With the choices all locked in, the door unlocks and I head out to meet with the team
   4. With the memories of my time in Spain finally restored, I realize how I had been trying to communicate with myself all along, but failing
      1. The need for calm communcation and education will never end - among our closest neighbors or with a civilization 300 light years away
   5. We have the traditional group dinner in the commons, and discuss what's going on
      1. The team did end up spending most of the time in stasis, and the formerly-newborn halflings are a little over a year now biologically, learning to speak and walk
      2. When I mention the Biosphere supplement and how I wasn't allowed to consult them, they naturally asked when it would apply, but it hadn't even occurred to me that there were now definitely too many of us to wait out warehouse changes in the entrance hall, so I checked with the central control
   6. Afterward, no one was complaining when the doors finally unlocked and we were able to leave the commons hall, only to find that the door led to an outdoor path with a natural-looking sunset on the horizon
      1. I didn't want to spoil the whole setup yet, so I said we could tour in the morning, and turned off a number of the facilities and systems for the night, to give me some time to understand what options were available before letting my companions go wild with them
      2. Fortunately, the obvious items like the tree of life and factory complex were on other islands, that would be difficult to reach without the transport disks running
   7. And then I went to sleep again, wondering what the next awakening had in store for me

Notes on the Fountain Jump Doc

1. Honestly this doc has been on my to-try list since I saw it - I really enjoyed the movie and gladly rewatched it again when it came up in my random draw.
2. The author took some liberties with the source material, which makes sense because of how focused on Thomas the story is, and the extensions largely make sense
3. There were a few confusing things in the jump, such as how you get essences and what powers you bring with you into each phase of the jump, but a close reading makes them clear enough
4. The jump has a few really standout purchase
   1. the inventor's intention is the answer to a lot of concers that "do-gooder" jumpers are likely to have in their careers
   2. the full tree of life is an amazing item - the ability to grant perfect health and immunity to aging within a regrowing item solves a lot of problems
   3. 500 years of practice is amazing if you have a particular skill or art in mind - literally centuries better than the "10 years of practice" equivalents that you find din many other jumps, and has a lot of potential to synergize with other perks that scale off your skill in a particular area
   4. Biosphere is super cool if you want your fiat-backed warehouse to grow into something more
   5. The Dagger of the Path is a great example of a conceptual weapon, and something I probably would have picked up if I had a bunch more points
5. How you're supposed to interleave the three eras is a little unclear, and maybe I'm not a creative enough author to pull it off. I don't believe SJ Chan ever got around to writing a fictionalized account of jumping to it, unfortunately
   1. If anyone else has done a good jump fiction of this jump, please let me know
6. Overall absolutely a fantastic jump. Obviously a great option for anyone who likes the movie or wants to solve one of the specific problems available
   1. I'd especially recommend it for an early-chain jumper because of the generally low danger level and great variety of rewards

Notes on the Biosphere Supplement Doc

1. I knew this was something I wanted to pick up when I first read the fountain jumpdoc several months ago
2. I use the "Personal Reality" warehouse which was co-authored by SJ Chan, and this supplement feels perfectly tailored to supplement that
3. There are lots of good pickups for people with various interests, or those who just want to keep their options open
   1. Observation Deck seems like the real must-have since a lot of the other buys are controllable through it
4. The structure of the biosphere was a little confusing at first - I thought that there was an island, a void around the island, and a hard shell, and wasn't sure why you'd want to increase the shell thickness, but further reading cleared that up
5. On the whole, a good pick up, especially considering it only cost 400 CP in the jump, and normally buying warehouse upgrades with CP has a very unfavorable conversion, but in this case, the biosphere purchases all seemed cheaper than they ought to be.

(Builds to come in a separate post due to length restrictions)

Gaz had crawled high into the apple tree and was pulling fruit down, lobbing it into the net his sister Tibble was holding out with her four hands. He hooted as he saw Jonathan walking through the rows.
Tibble turned, her blue fluff ruffling. "Human Jonathan! We have gathered many of the apples!"
Jonathan smiled as he approached, noting the large pile stacked on the ground. "Tibble, you have to put them in the baskets. Contact with the dirt will cause them to rot." He laughed. "I've told you this."
She shook her head. "Pyramid shape best. I like this." She pointed at the pile. "This is best way. You said you would make more cider. We like the cider. You will make it for me."
He knelt down and picked up an apple, taking a bite. Juice oozed out around his lips as his teeth pierced the skin of the fruit. He chewed for a moment while looking up at Gaz. "Yes. I said I would. Get these in the baskets and I'll carry them back."
She growled at him. "Piles are best." Tibble then began moving the top of the pile into the basket.
Jonathan sat under the tree as she filled the first basket, finishing off his third apple. She stacked it as high as she could before they started rolling off the top, and he got up. He lifted the basket and started carrying it toward the shed. "I'll be back for the next basket shortly."
He walked the half mile through the ruins of the city and stopped outside the door to the shed. He placed the basket down next to the apple masher and pulled the first apple up. He felt something ping on the back of his neck. Instinctively he scratched it, not remembering the sensation. He scratched a second time before he remembered what that particular vibration meant.
"Ares. Answer transmission."
The silicon based assistant accessed the relay and transmitted it to his subneurals.
An image of a man appeared in his ocular display. "Activation code Xeres Zulu three Kappa Alpha seven." The man said.
Jonathan tensed up and took a long breath before sighing. "Go ahead, admiral I'm guessing?"
"Admiral Alexander Oline, and you are Remnant Jonathan Kurzov?"
"I am."
"You are being activated."
Jonathan shook his head. "I'm retired."
"Retired?" The admiral asked. "You're done being human? I didn't know that was a thing."
"I'm retired from whatever you're wanting to ask me to do. Unless it's gardening, I don't give a shit about whatever you're doing."
Admiral Oline looked away for a moment and then back at Jonathan. "I have a report here describing in depth contact and conflict with an alien species, conducted by you. We received this information along with an application for a species of blue fuzzy creatures to be put under our species protection from a communications relay you and your assistant built. Am I wrong in this?"
Jonathan groaned. "No, you're right. I did a good deed."
Alexander nodded to himself as he looked over the report. "Yes, and now for your punishment." He smiled. "Prior to this, we thought all expansionist missions into your galaxy were extinct. The only traces we have left, before you, are the four sentience probes that were sent with your colonists. Do you still have access to those probes?"
Jonathan shook his head. "Haven't seen them in a few centuries. They left this system to continue scanning."
The admiral nodded. "Well, they have been continuing as programmed. They've been transmitting the entire time, and their data as mothballed during the last era, but now." He paused for a moment, his face growing stern. "A lot has changed since you left the Way. We, humanity, are on a similar path as yourself it seems."
"How so?" Jonathan asked.
"Humanity is making peace with our existence. We have gone back to our roots, trying to find peace in this darkness. Gardening, zen, familial ties, these are major values we have fostered, same as you and your adopted blue friends."
"Well, good for humans. Woo." Jonathan said. "Get to the point Oline. What do you want."
"Okay, I'll cut the curtsies. Those four probes from your expedition, their transmissions got bought up by a young entrepreneur. He went through them, refocused the probes to blue planet and found something. There's a species there, Isopodal, smart, but technologically savage. They're never going to reach beyond their atmosphere. They're planet locked, hell, probably never going to see electricity."
"Okay, so savages are causing a problem how?"
Oline sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment. "He watched them, then shared the feed with his friends, who shared the feed with their friends, and it became a phenomenon. These big bug, they're nice with extended families. They build their homes out of their shed carapaces. The longer they stay in a place, the bigger their homes get. Some are a hundred generations old, children walking through their halls touching the shells of ancestors long long gone. They scavenge, filter feed. The build tunnels to channel wastes from their small towns to the forests nearby, perfect balance with their ecosystem. They don't wage war, plan long term settlements with population quotas, living exactly as how the new human government envisions we should."
Jonathan nodded. "Sounds nice."
Oline sighed again. "It's a whole thing. We have a moon dedicated to making plushies of these things. People love them. The probes have been following specific towns for four decades now. Generations of people are involved in this ideology."
"And where do I fit in?"
"Your conflict with the Brin. Our Isopods biologically cleanse their environments of heavy metals. Their towns are built out of high demand, refined, high value materials. The Brin have since shifted their focus away from your blue fuzzy's and now are predating upon the Isopods."
"Fuck. Alright, I'll put a stop to them. You got coordinates for their homeworld?"
The admiral shook his head. "No, we're not into genocide anymore. We have to consider voters now. Your galaxy is being watched in detail now, with your little communication relay set up. We have to do this hands off, plausible deniability."
"For fuck's sake. Okay. How you wanna do this then?"
"Open source a Hadronic engine, give it to them. Basic freedom fighter protocols."
Jonathan nodded. "Understood."
Admiral Oline looked down at his templates and transmitted them. "Remnant Jonathan Kurzov, you are authorized to commence Project Pandora, classification Ultra Secret."
---===*===---
The father and eldest daughter and melted in the house of her forebears. She screeched through the walls, begging them to get out while she focused on the twins. She grabbed the two balls and tucked them into her filter pouches before running out the front door. She made it out to the beach as the heat intensified and the floating disk began sucking up their home. She stood in the water, her visual plate peaking out from the waves watching as she shivered with sadness. Her feeler appendages stroked the twins in her pouches as they fed from her filters, safe under the water. The beams finished melting down her home, pulling the slag up into the belly of the floating circle. She watched it float slowly away, disappearing down the beach.
She stood in the water, watching the smoldering hole that was her home far into the night. The stars were bright, and a dim glow came from beyond the horizons. She didn't dare leave her home, her ancestors. She kept shivering in grief, then she saw it.
A shadow contorted and a figure moved. Her vision, being as highly sensitive as it was, could barely make it out. She watched as it stood next to her ruins, her family home. A flash came from the thing.
"Fear not." It said as clearly as if it were her own blood.
She tiptoed out of the water, her weight coming back to her as she walked onto the beach. She shimmered back at the creature. "Spare us. Please."
It turned toward her, its face horrible and full of holes. Two orbs peered down at her, sending waves of fear through her shell. "A mother stands before me." It said, reflections appearing in front of it, cascading infrared to her. "I will do more than spare you."
Terror welled up in her and she fell down to the ground, but she resisted the urge to coil up and maintained her gaze upon the creature. "You are not them. You, you are different."
It walked closer to her, moving upon a mere two appendages. It lowered down next to her, extending a manipulator arm toward her. "Chance has sent a plague upon your peoples, one that you will not survive." It stared deep into her visor plate. "My people weep at that thought and offer you, Mother of three now two, a gift."
She could not help herself, and as if commanded without words, she extended two of her manipulator appendages up toward it. It opened up the ball at the end of its arm, five digits unfurling to reveal a black cube. It gently pushed the cube into her two pointed appendages.
"What is it?" She asked, shimmering.
The creature shimmered the air around it, speaking in ways she couldn't. "It is the gift we wish we did not have to give. It is horror, pain, and destruction. You know it in your organs, you feel it thinking about your mate, your daughter. Those that brought this feeling to you, will not stop until you give them this feeling back. This, this will allow you to do so, and I am sorry to have to give it to you."
She looked down at the cube in her points, feeling it as it vibrated across her limbs, reaching into her. Lines traced across her shell as she watched it grow on her. She looked back up toward the being as it crawled across her body but the shadow creature was gone.
A voice spoke to her, vibrations in her very core. "Hephaestus online. Greetings Mother."
She stood, her numerous feet appendages poking into the wet sand. "Where are you, being?" She shimmered with her shell.
"I am in you Mother, and am at your service." It replied within her minds.
"What has happened?" She asked, shivering with fear.
"You have been called upon to save your people."
She looked around before touching her own carapace. "How do I, how do we do that?"
"Where are the survivors?" It asked.
She thought for a moment, visions of the deep, visions of safety in the dark filled her minds.
"Go there. Help them."
She shivered again, defeat in the squish of body, her filters feeling the twins feeding at her sides.
"They will not stop, and more will suffer and die."
She turned her gaze back toward the horizon, seeing the glow of other homes melting in the far distance. "We can stop this?" She asked, now solely using her thoughts.
"I am but your tool. You can stop this." It replied.
---===*===---
She had not been to the vents since she picked her mate. They had fed there, filtering, hardening their shells together while discussing their future family. She could see the flickers of bioluminescence in the dark as she approached, her filters tasting the dense biofilm from the sea. She was close, and the flickers were from many peoples, many different families. She watched them talk, brothers, sisters, mothers, daughters, fathers, grandparents, all missing loved ones. Pain was the primary color, loss and heartache shared through the broken peoples.
She stepped into the outer ring, the heat of the vents warming her and her twins at her sides. Shimmers rose up to her asking who she had lost. She replied. "Mate and eldest daughter." But her reply wasn't heartache, but rather tinged with a new feeling and color. She replied with deep reds, a red tied to a thought from a people people beyond the stars, a red of blood and fire, things she knew nothing about.
The people's around her shifted in confusion at the colors. An elder great mother rose up to her. "You speak confusing daughter. What are you saying? Are you injured?"
She looked around, her visor meeting with dozens of others as they raised up to look at her. "The darkness came to me, spoke with me." She looked at the great mother. "The darkness touched me and has told me what we must do."
The elder mother walked over and touched manipulators with her. "Sit with us daughter, you need to rest. You have come far and need to heal."
"Our mates burn." The Mother of three now two said. "Our children, our families, our fathers burn. Things of light and pain come here and kill us. I will not heal these wounds. I bleed in my organs, pain beyond pain. I will not rest until they cease, until they feel my pain. They will feel this in their organs!" She flashed brighter than those around her thought possible. "I will stop them!"
A father stood up, pain shown in his colors. "They burn us. They are in the sky! How do we stop them? Do you know how? If you know anyway I will lend my spikes to yours. Please, tell us how! Anyone, tell us how." He shouted as bright as he could, lament touching his words.
The Mother of three now two walked over to him, placing her appendages upon his. Dots of blue light shifted from her carapace onto his. She looked into his visor plate and spoke with tinges of red. "The darkness has come and has promised us vengeance."
He flexed his carapace, breathing deep as he sucked in the sea. "What is this?" He asked, his own colors shifting toward the red.
"Our pain made flesh." She replied.
---===*==---
Brin operator Noloc was marking the next metal deposit while the syphons were busy pulling up the slag. It radioed over to buddy Lana. "You nearing full?"
Lana replied back. "Yeah. You want to get food while we empty?"
"Yeah, obviously." It replied. "Care to stimulate bodies while we eat?"
"Yeah obviously." Lana said. "Hey, are you getting any weird readings?"
"Like what?" Noloc asked.
Lana sent over telemetry. "Heat spikes in the water. What are those?"
Noloc looked them over and then scanned the water nearby. "Yeah, I got a dozen near me too. What are those?"
Noloc turned to look out the window just in time to see something leap onto the outer hull of its ship. "Um, one of the native creatures is on my miner."
Lana screamed through the radio.
Noloc shook at the noise and looked back out at the native. The creature was larger than normal, its color darker as well. Noloc watched as the thing curled, hunkering down on the hull. Deep scratching sounds echoed through the ship. "I am in need of assistance." It radioed up toward the mothership. "Assistance needed, native attack."
Telemetry came down. "Wait time for assistance five minutes. Ten minutes. Three hours." It read out, the time continuously increasing.
Noloc looked around. "What is happening! I need assistance!" Another thud on the hull and Noloc looked out to see another native boring into the ship. "Help!"
---===*===---
The Mother walked over to the downed ship and watched as the warriors cut apart the pilot. Hephaestus highlighted the mining beam as she walked across the machinery. She pointed with one of her manipulators. "There Father. We need that piece." She shimmered.
One of the fathers walked over and cut it free with his new sharps. "What is it Mother?"
"It is a tool of light and fire."
He shook, remembering his family burning.
"Remember that pain Father. They will feel it as they burn."
He paused and looked at her. "We will be as they are then. Burners, bringers of pain. That is not who we are."
She felt at the empty filters at her side. "My twins are in the deep with the mothers. That is not who they are, but that is who we must be so they can stay that way."
The Father shimmered back in tones of red. "They will be as we were before."
She flashed understanding. "We will suffer, become the monsters so they won't have to."
He replied understanding.
--===*===---
Three galaxies away, sitting in their living rooms across numerous worlds, humanity watched on. The four probes, hidden in their cloak fields, displayed in completed holographic representations, the forgotten horrors of war. Beams of fire and light rose up from the depths of the seas, melting Brin ships out of the sky. Day after day, the Isopods did what they did, scavenged. More fallen tech fed them, and within three months they had risen out of their gravity well, taking the fight into orbit.
A year later and several scavenged stations and the Isopods had opened up communications, seeking the others hiding in the shadows.
A world of blue fuzzy creatures were quick to respond, welcoming the filter feeders to the galactic community.
The Mother of Three now two was aboard the ship crossing the darkness as the first gathering commenced.

--⧼ BEGIN Broadcast Message ⧽--
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Priority Level: Urgent
:: From ::
Center Arm of the Emperor, Planet Laran
:: To ::
All Survivors of Fellow Royal Cast Broods
:: Message ::
The Emperor has graciously permitted the use of his Excellency's summer home on Planet Laran, located in the Empire's Center Arm, as a temporary refuge during the unprecedented violent Terran offences against His Holiness and the holiness of the Omni-brood of Ix.
:: Attachments ::
Coordinates and Flight Key
:: Royal Cryptographic Signature ::
Lord La'Ix, The Emperor's Right-Center Arm
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
--⧼ END Broadcast Message ⧽--

earlier

"CURSE THEM! The great houses are going to have my bloody head for this! There is no way this should've happened and under my command too! The Golden Emperor's own exotic holiday world has gone to ash and the only one to blame is going to be me. Well it was basically my watch anyways. Curse. Them. All"
Those were the only legible sounds one could hear among the frantic stamping of one particular Ixian lord as he hurried away through the underbrush of the royal reserve just outside the centre palace. The same Ixian lord that, only hours earlier, was delighting in his typical cooked boar while enjoying his evening's entertainment of a young Terran girl running for her life from a loose Laran tiger. Something about the way those bipeds run always makes him laugh. Some similarly caste Ixian would call this form of entertainment childish, lowbrow, and immature. He would tend to agree. But sometimes he just wanted cheap slapstick humour. The day to day life of the royal caste tends to get dull with all the fine arts an Ixian of his caste is meant to enjoy.
"How did it all go to shit!?! I was always attentive, and there hasn't been an uprising since those terrans were tamed for the palace. I mean we mostly neuter the problematic ones anyways, so why all the sudden aggression?", he shouted in agitation at the emptiness in front of him.
Speeding through the royal garden which in actuality is a repurposed Savannah of the island the palace is on. The Ixian was a beast of speed. Perfectly honed and trained over decades, and genetically maintained over eons, he always proudly held that he was the fasted in his brood of 16. Making a name for himself among the other broodkin for being the most genetically suited for the rank of high general (not that there was any need for generals, there hasn't been need for war in so long). Of course the Ixians always pride themselves in having no excess potential, and adapting your environment to suit your biology, but it never hurts to have perfect biology. That's the true pride of an Ixian.
That innate need to change the universe rather than changing themselves is what led to their vast interstellar empire. One that reached from constellation to constellation and then eventually to the arms of entire galaxies, terraforming worlds to the same environment they were already adapted to. Since forcing nature into one's bidding was the most sacred duty of any that shared a lick of Ix biology.
Which was why the Ix was confident in themselves. This Ixian in particular surely felt surprised, but mainly he was only moderately upset at the sudden change of situation, from being comfortable in the royal dining hall to sudden exercise.
"Everything can be changed back. Everything can be changed back." It repeated the mantra to itself. As it began to relax and turn its snarled sharp mouth into a toothy grin.
"Yes, there is nothing to worry about at all. Then let's make a game plan. Just need to make it to the space port at the harbour. Grab a ride out and find someone else to take the fall. That old royal butler is as ancient as the dirt of the broodworld. Hell, he probably was there when it vanished in the shadow of the holy empire's long past." chuckling to himself at the quite witty remark, but saddened that no one else was there to hear it.
Should be realistic enough for the others to believe. But first things first, I need to reach the harbour-master. It thought while its dense muscles powered the beastly lizard-like form on its journey, as it bound in the direction of its destination at top speed on all fours.
The blood red sun was already kissing the horizon by the time the Ixian went to nearly collapse under exhaustion of the extended sprint. He hasn't ran this far and fast than when he a young broodling that won competitions and competitions in the royal sports. I think I might have overdid it. He thought while massaging the oncoming threat of a sneaky cramp in his hind leg.
The Ixian were well known for speed. But their stamina was another thing. There bodies simply didn't have the evolved features for long distance travel. There was never truly any need in the past, as their very steady and controlled climate and sparsely diverse ecosystem on Ix never truly required much challenge.
It turned its panting head to face the way it came, gazing proudly at the great distance it made in such a short while.
But something was off by that view. Something different to what he was expecting. The view itself was mostly fine. Well, as fine as a smoking mark in the distance, presumably from the summer palace being engulfed in flame and spitting great plumes of black smoke. But no, something about this view chilled him to this spine. Craning his neck from his vantage point he could swear there was a small speck in the distance.
What on great Ix is that?
All of a sudden realisation hit like a rock on a peaceful pond. Something was following him. Something unknown and cold was making its way to his location. He was certain it wasn't any of his guards, all guards permitted to serve under the royal summer home were Ixian of course. Physically bred for their strength and speed, and placed into roles of importance like protecting the higher caste such as himself. (Whereas this day being the only exception). It did look like he was the only Ixian that actually made it out of the palace so far. Ixians are able to cover short distances in phenomenal speed, akin to a scaly 4 legged beast of the hunt.
No this was something else.
Feeling a very small panic build up inside, but veiling that cold, unwanted terror as impatience at how far he still needs to travel yet. Lord La'Ix flexed his anterior legs and sped on leaving behind a red-yellow cloud of dust in his wake.
He frowned. Feeling strange at a never before felt sensation. Like something in the back of his perfectly designed brain was screaming a silent, but terrifyingly familiar warning.
"Ix itself is an ancient world. Temperate in climate, while abundant in vegetation and small game. It is unknown how the Ixian was formed on paradise.
The old priest can drum into your heads that I'Ix made us into being by indenting his form in the sand of the first beach and filling the shape with his life. Moulding us into being.
The heretic would counter and say we evolved from a previous species akin to ourselves over the course of untold lengths of time.
The philosopher would suggest that only on paradise would the sentient universe fill in the space for the perfect beings to enjoy the fruits of existence.
Lastly, even the lowest caste Ixian would point and laugh at the rest and say 'why talk about antiquity, when we can make more paradise to fill the heavens'."
-A popular Ixian parable
Lord La'Ix bolted up all of a sudden from his resting spot. Heart suddenly beating frantically. The stars had barely enough time to shift positions when last rested his weary body, only a couple hours must have passed since dusk fell and the world plunged into night.
The silence of the Savannah made sound from afar travel better. Aside from the quiet rustling of the wind he wasn't so sure what he heard. Assuming his bored ears were playing tricks on him.
Calming down, curling up on the flat cool rock he found he started to drift to the shadowless lands where all Ixian go when they dream...
Drums, no, not drums. Some sort of mechanical tool? Not that I ever heard of a tool that just beat the ground senseless. A strange beating sound could be heard, pounding into the ground. As he stayed frozen and very awake, he could have sworn it was getting louder. Closer.
CRACK. SNAP. CRACK.
Suddenly the entire valley echoed the sounds of a few broken sticks.
La'Ix jumped up, whirling around, and came to face something approaching fast that could only be described as a cold predator, not that there were any predators on the homeworld's recorded history. But every cell in his aching body reacted the same. DANGER, DANGER, RUN, RUN.
The silver light of the planet's 3 moons barely lit the valley but what that light bounced off of was a figure in motion. Front Legs pumping up and down, nostrils flaring, eyes too close together, and pupils so large it was like staring at darkness itself.
Hold on there are only 2 legs right? Sudden familiarity hit him hard, memories of last night's entertainment stained his mind. In the name of Ix is that a Terran?!?
La'Ix didn't realise it then, but it was looking at a Terran, despite the Terrans characteristics looking different to the standard slave he was used to seeing. The pumping body of the runner was made for such long distances. Sweat acting as a cooling mechanism, making the man glisten in the harsh moonlight, the enlarged nostrils taking in all the air the body needs for this type of strenuous activity. And the enlarged pupils, made for adjusting to low light environments.
Down on the plains of the Savannah were two creatures. One a perfect evolutionary miracle, practically evolution's first try gone right, Perfectly made for its environment and was never truly exposed to varying climates and environments. And the other, having crawled through the primordial ooze, and struggled and fought its way through dangers, diseases, and competition on its own horrifying world. Where deadly heat in deserts can dry out any living thing, and such freezing poles that can turn anything that enters it in pure ice.
The man's lean and sweat-slicken form was steadily making its way towards the frozen statue of La'Ix. Just as he got within 50 paces did La'Ix sprint away scattering pebbles in its path the echoes of which bounced back from the valley's sharp walls. Undeterred, the chaser kept steadily running. Jaws grit. Eyes locked on afar.
And afar was its prey. Sprinting away.
HOW IN IX'S NAME DID THAT THING KNOW WHERE I AM? The La'Ix in a fit of sudden excitement mixed with a heavy dose of panic, began its high octane sprint from the sudden looming threat of being found. Hind Legs propelling the creature's body forward, while its front arms, which were historically also for four legged locomotion, pulled the terrain closer with each stride. Increasing its momentum until it reached max speed.
"Broodling La'Ix!" said a stern but educated voice.
"Huh? Oh! Yessir!" a young Ix jumped to attention still thinking about more enjoyable things specifically outside of the classroom walls.
"Well? Can you please answer my question or will you make your other broodkin wait until Ix falls to ash first", the tutor said expectantly, prompting several muffles giggles in the room.
"Sorry sir. What makes the Ixian race its place in eternity is the attention we put in perfection. After our home-world of Ix's climate and terrain began to change, the leaders from antiquity decreed we carry on the spirit of the home-world in maintaining a consistent biological and genetic profile that will always be suited to Ix's surface. As we change worlds to be more like Ix, we can spread the spirit of Ix to them. As such, Change is- uh, change is..."
"Change is the poison of perfection, Remaining unchanged for Ix enable us to carry its spirit to other planets in the heavens", continued the tutor. "Well you certainly paid some attention to today's lesson at the very least. But remember that final part. It's the last of the core tenants you will need to remember."
"Yessir!"
A good half night passed on the surface of the Savanna. Where a previously noble and alert Ixian who took great care in appearances and status was no longer to be seen. Instead of that proud domineering alien representative of ix was a dishevelled, dusty, ragged creature, dehydrated, hungry, and exhausted from the various sprints it forced itself to endure to stay ahead of fate's ever closing hand.
Is this the sword of Damocles that was mentioned in the ancient Terran records? Always hanging down on those who hold power and seek more? Fate's sharp blade? But why me? I was never in any real power. All I wanted out of this life was a comfortable posting with no dirt and grime from the lower worlds. Why me? Why now? Why do I-
La'Ix snapped himself out of a daze. Is he here- No, no I should be far far away from that Terran now. Maybe I can find some-
A dim glow interrupted its train of thought. Much too early to be the Sunrise on the Emperor's summer planet, and much to low to be the light from one of it's 2 moons. It was a light from a town.
"That's right!" The Ixian barely managed to rasp in between haggard breaths. Its body barely able to continue the amount of self inflicted abuse it has suddenly been put in.
A lot more hunched over than the Ixian was earlier. It made its way towards a small town it knew was in between the palace and the harbour. The emperor loved his royal rustic towns and villages. It is said that his royal emperor would sometimes tour around them marvelling at the romantic theme of a simple rustic life. Although getting a personal town full of Ixians required a lot of lower caste be forced into long and expensive work contracts as background entertainers for the king's planet, all this excessive show of wealth was partially for peackocking the emperor's reputation, and partially for his own personal enjoyment. The Emperor is almost culturally required to flaunt his royal wealth in all forms in order to keep connections with all the royal houses. An emperor that doesn't shower their supporting aides and houses with grand gifts is fated to eventually be found cold on the floor of the royal banquet due to 'suicide from accidentally ingesting poison', as was the previous emperor.
To avoid such an unfortunate passing, the Higher Royals would trade vast resources, delicacies, and even exotic slaves to court 'royal favours'. Slaves of the Terran variety especially are considered to be the most unique of gifts the empire has ever acquired.
Terrans weren't necessarily large and bulky. Fighters were assigned to the Slave Obniraks. Powerful creatures used to fill the fields on tougher worlds where mechanical services would be deemed to expensive. The growth of a Obnirak into full working adulthood is only a few cycles. Meaning mass producing a workforce is quite an easy feat.
Terrans instead would take vast cycles to mature from a childling to an average adult. Meaning growing a slave force would take vast quantities of resources, immense patience, and strict guidance from their owners as to not create faulty creatures. All of which increases the general standing on any house that manages to keep a vast amount of Terran slaves in the best quality.
Terrans weren't necessarily docile and obedient. That role was perhaps given to the oldest slave race the Ix ever controlled. The Iralisa. It was known that they were made remarkably docile due to generations upon generations of select breeding, and pruning off the 'aggressive traits' from the gene pool. However, that led to the adverse effect of physically weakening them to a point where such docility and lack of a frame to keep up with their workload led to a general lack of Ixian interest and were subsequently purified.
Terrans are notoriously independent and herd-minded in larger quantities. Similar to growing a very stubborn Terulian Rose Vine. Which only looks impressive when great care have been given. Terrans need to be given an illusion of being ever so slightly free. Which typically involves owning vast amounts of land and nature to let them roam and graze. Of course, the only ones that can accommodate grand work forces of Terrans are the larger houses with the appropriate territory for humans, as is studied in the Ixian art of Servitude.
One can only guess which species is the Emperor's favourite.
The following town should indeed have both, low caste Ixians, and possibly none of the Emperor's favourite slaves.
The Ixian approached the glowing town. As it reached closer it straightened its back, upright on its hindlegs in the royal fashion. And proclaimed. "It is I! La'Ix, royal courtier. Lend me aid imme-"
Something is off. Not a single shadow in the town, I can see lights but no movement, where is every-
After turning the corner to the center of the small town, the dustied and weary creature froze in its tracks when it saw it. A pit nearly as wide as an Ixian land cruiser and who knows how deep filled with a stench so powerful it watered his eyes. Despite the Ixian's lack of a proper sense of smell. It knew the foul fetor of death.
The crudely dug pit was nearly overflowing when he approached it. Large, smoking, smouldering pyres cast that eerie light that had drawn him in.
"H-how? Wha-What the..." he trailed off when a local species of Laran boar growled and squealed as it tore a dead Ixian limb from the mountain of corpses.
"Who could've..."
He stopped. The shock of seeing his own kind laid like broken dolls in a bleeding pit slowly faded, replaced by a numbness. The Ixian had just noticed they were of Ix. Only of Ix.
Not a single terran colour was visible in the black and spotted pit of bodies. Not a single slave body was visible.
I-Impossible...
His legs gave way, either from the strain of the entire nights run, the horror facing him, or the threat from behind. He just dropped.
Minutes passed, or hours. It was hard to tell. But the Ixian lay slumped. Body unwilling to move further. Battered flesh unwilling to be propelled by a shattered spirit.
Mind slowly spinning up again. Thoughts began whirring to life in its mind. Could the rumours actually have been true? It had read the sparse reports of odd activity from certain Ixian-controlled worlds on the outer arms of the empire. Small uprisings of unknown origin. Hardly anything of note. If it had no affect on the greater houses then it was of no real concern to Ix and its emperor.
Could this threat have made its way to the centre arm already? Impossible. But what else could have done this to us?
Something caught the Ixian's eyes. In the middle of the pit it stood. A large stake, wet with deep Ixian crimson, dripping ever so slowly. Towering over the pit like a battlefield flag was a head of an Ixian rammed onto the tip of the spike. But the particular detail that caught the Ixian's eyes was a symbol cut into the flesh of the large forehead.
Looking from the outward-in. Eight concentric rings, which proceeded to get smaller and smaller in size until it reached a dark mass at the centre of the symbol. The Ixian never forgot the symbol and the affect it had on it.
Eight concentric rings, and a centre mass. Eight rings, and a mass. Eight- Eight what? Eight planets? And a star? ...
A growing pool of cold dread rose in its guts that made it shiver despite the fair night. This dread reflected the sharp reality on its frigid surface.
This Ixian was well-bred, well-trained, and well-educated. Although anyone with a basic education would know of such a pattern.
Terra and her sisters. THEIR star system...
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
It's not possible!-
Knowing what that sound meant, the Ixian tried to whirl around, its body barely being able to heed its masters commands. Just when it was starting to move again it felt it.
Sudden sharp agony. Sudden sharp, raging agony. The Ixian looked at it's hind leg. A sharpened wooden stake was jutting out of it.
It loud out a tight lipped scream, as it grasped the pulsating wound as one does immediately after an injury. It barely had enough time to look up at its attacker when the Terran bolted forward, shortening the distance between hunter and prey from metres to mere paces. The Ixian barely had enough time to block the hand grasping the knife as the arm flew forward at the last minute with a crash.
What phenomenal force!
Using the momentum from that sprint plus the wind up of his arm. The Terran was able to impart a phenomal show of force for a creature its size. That's when La'Ix for the first time saw a human in its raw unchanged form. Great beads of sweat collecting dust on its brow, to prevent it from entering the eyes. The constant release of sweat from the countless pores on its soft fleshy skin. Constant cooling? Even the visible veins and capillaries visible from the fire light.
What a beast of endurance-
Suddenly the horizon fell before the Ixian only to reveal the inky black sky dotted with pigments from stars like a painters masterpiece. When did I look up? Then a crash and blunt force from the ground.
The Ixian had been toppled over by that ferocious exchange of force.
Barely able to get up due to the wind being knocked out of its single large lung, the searing pain in its hind leg, and the exhaustion from the chase. It was too late. The terran was already on top of it. Taking up the entire view of the sky as the terran stepped forward into its field of vision.
The sudden perspective change made a once small and frail looking slave look grander than life, grander than all the legends told to Ixian broodlings.
The punches rained down. Repeatedly. A constant bombardment of beating rained like the drops of rain before the first dew. The previous pain in its leg forgotten, to invite a new visitor in the form of blunt force trauma. So ferocious were the raw blows to its carapace that the Ixian felt the exoskeleton crack under the increasing pressure and strain.
Something cracked, another thing snapped. The amount of pain too much to comprehend. The neurons firing in its second brain just assumed it was everywhere. Its half-working eye glimpsed the fist as it came down for the nth time. Red and split knuckles, revealing pure white bone beneath—a reinforced weapon. The perfect natural offence. All the muscles moved to propel it downwards where something else cracked and split.
Is this where I die?
As if understanding its fate the Ixian's form slumped over. Its body barely holding onto the natural exoskeleton shielding that covered its chest and facial area. Fluids leaking from the cracks that went too deep, and who knows how many internal ribs are shattered.
Its body, knowing that that more movement will cause more injuries, and further stimuli would confuse it further. It simply shut down.
The last moments it had as it fell backwards on its side. Was a small running figure. Hand clutching wooden spears. But the truly petrifying sight was behind it. A vast shadow flickering from the light of the lit pyres from the hunter in front of it. A shadow cast so large, jagged, and menacing it appeared to swallow the town whole.
And into a hole did the Ixian fall. A vacuum with no sensation or thought. Just darkness.
How... did we never notice such a... monster... in their... shadow...
All Ixians were taught about 'violence' and 'conflict' at an early age. As a sort of rite of passage that any of them would go through as they survive their early broodling days. As Ix have no natural predators, they had begun to instil a serving of some necessary conflict to keep their generations fresh and somewhat physically strong. As a precaution, only rudimentary forms of civil sports, races, shows of strength and courage were ever really explored. But always in a controlled and calm settings, as there would never be any true need for actual conflict.
As there was always a need to maintain ones own environment. The need never arose for the development of fighting techniques and schools of training. That was one of the best parts of being an Ix that many thought. Having supreme control over the worlds you inhabit means setting gravity, atmospheric pressure, humidity, and temperatures to the perfect levels for comfort replaced any need for biological change. Why grow when you can keep everything the same way, how you like it.
They were a vast empire. An empire of statues.
-Excerpt from the history of extra-solarian species, Author unknown
It awoke to a burning radiating heat from in front. The large sun was already starting to set on the horizon when it awoke. Had a whole day passed? Or two?
Trying to block the setting sun from its eyes it couldn't. "What?...", barely made out in a whisper.
I'm tied up.
And indeed the Ixian was right. Tied up next to a small brook, with a scorching fire in front of it. The monster nowhere to be seen.
"No good... it's too tight", it grunted in an attempt to escape its bindings.
Going slack in defeat it avoided any additional movement. Not having the energy to spare to move. It was lucky to have always been lazy at shedding its carapace - a frequent nag from its broodmother - might just have become its salvation in this case.
Thank Ix.
So there it stayed.
Hours passed. The Sun fully set and the stars awake in this dark world barely lit up the wildlands. Only the prisoner in this cone of firelight existed out here.
A rustling up ahead caught the prisoner's attention disturbing the eerily still silence of the Savannah night. And ungodly horror of a squeal ruptured the air invoking a deep visceral terror within the bound prisoner. Something. Something close but just outside the firelight was eyeing it, glinting from beyond the light. Those dark predatory eyes stabbed the prisoner with a sudden coldness. All while the squealing suddenly halted. SNAP. SQUELCH.
Now it came, emerging into the light. A beast. Holding a knife in one bloodied hand, dripping on the dirt. And dragging by the leg, a massive adult Laran boar grotesquely smearing thick blood still warm from the cut in the neck on the dirt.
The prisoner watched, barely moving, barely breathing. Frozen with the horror in front of it as the bloodied carcass was skinned; fur sliced away with harsh, scraping sounds with the crude knife. Spurting remaining blood all over the site.
The pink naked flesh then washed in the brook, leaving a distinct smell of oxidised blood in the air, before being skewered and roasted over the roaring flames. Fat popping violently in the heat.
In this gruesome display, the beast revealed not just a fate for the boar, but a dark hint of what might come. The realisation struck deep—this could be more than just a demonstration; it was a terrifying preview of its own potential end.
It passed out again.
Only to be awoken by the haunting echoes of a wild, desperate squeal that once thrummed through the savannah's eerie silence. Dare it open its eyes?
After a great heavy effort -utilizing its every last drop of courage- one eye cracked open. And what it saw. Made it regret ever having done so.
Right across from it, the hunter was a grotesque silhouette against the flickering fire. Grasping a severed boar leg was a mouth viciously biting, ripping, tearing into the flesh with primal ferocity. Each bite was deliberate, each tear of sinew was a clear, calculated demonstration of supreme savagery. Its jaw muscles bulged with the force of a bite.
All the while, the eyes—deep, abyssal pits—fixed intently on the prisoner. Deepest black pits stared back at it. Watching. Observing. Calculating, with a dark intelligence. it was calculating. It was relishing the terror it inspired and the control it exerted. Or planning its next meal.
The sounds of ripping flesh filled the thick, blood-soaked air. Deep into the night. Deep into this never-ending nightmare.
Never once did the prisoner move. Not an iota. Frozen in abject horror.
The night passed quietly. After the feast the human had, or the desecration of life that the prisoner saw, whichever way you look at it. The human nodded off to sleep. Content in the success of his mission. But the tied up creature had no such rest. Sending silent pleas to the stars that it might be saved. But not daring to make a sound, less it awaken that sleeping horror. Or was it sleeping? Dear Ix, it might be watching me. Feigning sleep to keep an eye on its meal. Dear Ix I'm next...
All through the night, the demons plagued its mind. Until the warmth of the morning rose, and with it the sound of an Ixian cruiser.
Elation could not be an understatement for the tired, tied, beat, and bruised thing. Craning its neck to the direction of the sound about to bellow out an Ixian warning to the demon resting next it.
"BE CAREFUL! THERE'S ONE HERE-". It stopped speaking. That previous elation it felt at a saviour arriving to rescue it from the demons grasp, fizzled out like a drop of water in a drought.
That all so familiar cold remained. And the dryness of despair. As pairs of dark pupils shot back at it.
On the cruiser were tall adult Terrans. Clean cut, well fed, well dressed Terrans. Four, no Six, no eight of them. All hanging onto the side of cruiser while it made its way to their location. Compared to the demon waking up beside it, these creatures were organised. A savageness neatly packaged in a uniform with a symbol. The prisoners eyes grew wide in its sunken sockets. 8 rings, and a centre mass. They must be the cause of, well all this.
Accepting fate, its head fell in part defiance, in part to avoid the stinging eyes of these others. It felt their gaze burn through—cold, cruel, calculating. There is nothing I can do any longer.
"You're finally here. What took you so long?" The runner said to his approaching comrades, "Took all night to catch up to him."
"Hey Jan, great work", the tall militant woman shot back. With a playful punch to his arm. "Guess all that cardio really paid off, didn't I tell you it would!" She let out a playful guffaw.
"Thanks Chel", replied Jan.
"Ok chop chop people, we're on a schedule. We need to reach the port ASAP remember? Come on Jan, rest up all you like, you're still on the clock."
"Aye sir." Jan shot back in a mock salute, gaining a sneer from the commandant, then a sneaky smile.
"Don't forget your trash. And make sure its breathing still."
It creaked open its eyes, seeing pairs of boots moving towards it and standing in front. In silence. Then all of a sudden, felt pairs and pairs of hands pull and tug. and lift it up The thing let out a pathetic silent sob. While it was loaded in the back of the cruiser, face up. Staring at eyes, piercing black dots peering back. It could never understand what was being felt by those eyes and those faces.
Ixians wear their emotions on their carapace; spots and stripes would slowly appear in certain parts, representing emotions and feeling that their bodies felt in a general sense. But the most private thoughts were of course, still kept private.
But this. This was just too foreign. The eyes never stopped. Even in the swaying movement of the cruiser the pupils never broke contact. Those eyes. As if it was peering into it, envelops your entire mind. There was no way to hide, even hiding in his inner self would do no good. Those eyes. Those predator eyes can find me anywhere I try to escape to. Inside and out.
Some times passes.
"You know. I lost good friends to the royal caste. Especially to this one's brood clan or whatever they like to call it." One of them was looking right at it when they said it. It turned its eyes over to the source. A short one, with a slave scar on the neck said it. A scar that shot through his memories. A scar inflicted to property owned by, his brood. This one is dangerous..., it thought.
Jan, and the others didn't look but felt it. The cold darkness in that tone made it clear what it intended to do.
The female militant, Chel, I think her name was. Slowly reached to the side arm on her holster. Sensing the oncoming problem.
"You still understand me don't you? I've had to watch good people die. Damn good people." The scarred one one stood, grabbing the upper rail of the cruiser to steady themselves. "I hear that even if you get ill, you become the entertainment for the night. What was it now?" She paused for a brief second. "Oh I remember".
"Stil" Chel said slowly. "Cool it". Hand still on the butt of the sidearm.
Not hearing or not wanting to reply. Stil continued. "Torn apart by those raptor pets. Hands or feet cut off as souvenirs for those fucked-up parties and those fucked-up guests. Oh yea, and the 'toy play' or whatever they call it. Can't have Ken and Barbie fight back now, can we?"
Stil leaned closer to the now cowering, shaking thing, "I wonder which one was your favourite." The words cut through La'Ix like an icicle. This was the first time these demons actually spoke to it directly. And it didn't like it. It could sense the venom from the words.
"Stil..." Chel slowly got up, hand still at the ready. "I said cool it." The line had a steely warning to it. Chel wouldn't risk the mission. Even if it meant doing what must be done.
Agonizing seconds passed. The cowering, shaking thing seemed to grow whiter and whiter by the second, It's spots clearly showing what it felt. Staring up, Not willing to move but being unable to hide. It felt the absolute crushing weight of the present. Grinding it down to a paste.
Everyone stayed still. The two militants didn't move. The rest didn't seem to even have paid attention to the converstation, still looked away.
Longer passed.
Stil smiled, "Oh come on Chel, you know I wouldn't do anything to our friend here? You know I was just playing around." Stil laughed. Chel didn't react.
Stil immediately crouched, faced the shaking prisoner inches apart eye to eye, and in a whisper said "Right friend?"
She wants me to reply? Dear Ix I can't even think with those eyes in front of me What do I do?! What do I say?!
"Right. Friend?" Stil repeated slower and colder. Like the blade of a surgeon hovering over skin, ready to plunge.
The gears of its Ixian brain grinded to a screeching halt. In utter desperation to find a reply it simply gave up. Instead, it felt a warmth slowly spread. Slowly spread between its hind legs. It had released its bladder.
"BAHAHAHAHA LOOK AT IT" Stil roared in laughter. The sound of it rattling the prisoners brain with the sound. Disorienting its senses. "NOW THAT'S CLASSIC TIMING IF I'VE EVER SEEN IT!" She plopped back down face red and still laughing.
The Ixian didn't know what to do but tremble and sob silently on the cold surface of the cruiser surrounded by laughter. and the warmth of its piss. It tried to plug its ears. But the sound still came. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. Dear Ix, what are these demons... where are they taking me? To hell?...
The cruiser kept cruising. Towards the port across the island. Trailing laughter behind. Or to the sobbing wreck of a thing, demonic cackling.
The scent of familiarity wafted into the senses of the prisoner as the cruiser started to slow. The smell of the salt, the chirping of familiar aviaries. Sound of the crash of sea. The port.
Braving a sentence for the first time in for what seems eternity. It let out a question "...w..w..where ... why... are... ... we ...h... here?" It managed to say shakily, eyes downcast.
As if in response, a sharp shove greeted it from the back and a hard hit on the ground was as much of an answer it was getting.
"Move it", Jan said gruffly.
They walked. the ixian still bound but free to walk in the middle of the group of humans. Towards a destination still not known. The walk twisted, and turned, and twisted again. One thing struck out to the prisoner. It was too clean, especially for what it was expecting, it's last experience being in the previous blood-soaked town laden with bodies and carrion eaters.
The port town was completely silent, free from the regular hustle and bustle it usually had even when the emperor was not present. And superbly clean. Not a single piece of dirt to be seen. Not a single Ixian either. Where did everyone go? Did they make it out somehow when these invaders came?
In the background, the surf broke relentlessly.
Piercing eyes caught the prisoners glance, as it wandered curiously around the town. Realising its mistake La'Ix tried to look away but the burning gaze gripped his own.
As if reading its soul. The human answered the hidden question bubbling up in La'Ix. "You should've seen them your royal majesty". The one called Stil said while bending in mocking courtesy.
The surf pounded the shore even more loudly now.
"They don't swim well. Especially the young ones. They dropped like stones. Turning all white by the time they stopped moving."
Louder now. The sea roared.
Nothing came. Not a thought in La'Ix's mind. Its mind struggled to comprehend the depth of what was said by Stil, the scarred human.
The waves boomed louder now. Louder than the sun, echoing louder than the screams of all the Ixians that must have perished.
It saw the lips of the standing-devil in front of it. But all the came from its blood red lips were obscured by the sound of the pounding of the waves. The echoes of drowned kin, thudding and slapping against the shore, merged with the relentless surf in La'Ix's mind.
This is for our sins.
Wave after wave, the relentless surge continued, each one a haunting reminder of the souls lost to the sea, each crash a ghostly thud of bodies hitting the shore.
Very slowly did some exhausted neuron in the Ixian's head come to a conclusion as to how these creatures in front of it can be so relentless, so cruel, and so evil. When pushed to beyond its breaking point, did their true carnivorous instincts rear their ugly head.
Oh dear Ix. What sort of environment could breed such demons?
La'Ix didn't remember what happened next. The memories feel like a distant dream now as he sits watching the port sky now.
The aching brand on his forehead of the 8 ringed system, pulsed in pain—a departing gift from his newly made friends, stung from the salty sea air.
He barely recalls the staggered walk from the empty inter-arm transmission office and the inputting of his biometric royal seal. He barely even remembers the message that was sent under his name and signature
And even less does he remember what he heard what will happen next.
All alone now, he stares at the sky of the empty port town. As he watches more royal ships enter the atmosphere.
He gazes upward, thoughtlessly, statue-like Knowing fate will come for them all. Fate in the form of piercing black eyes and a monster so large it can fit in a shadow.
A single thought, carried its way from above the despair to the surface. Slowly. Like a bubble in a pool of tar.
What was I meant to tell the emperor again?

After nearly thirty years of research, field work, digging, and sometimes living off the land, Ana had finally found what her family had sought since her great-grandfather. The door was so well hidden that she hadn’t realized it was there until she attempted to break a bit of the surface rock off with her geologist’s hammer. The hollow behind the door resonated with the sound of the hammer on stone.
She tapped along the door to find the edges. With the chisel end of her hammer, she chipped away the encrustations that had built up along the edges. After hours of hammering, chiseling, and digging at the base, the outline of the door was visible. Made of the same rock as the surrounding gneiss, it had gone unnoticed for untold millennia.
Ana pushed the door from the sides, the middle, the top, the bottom, looking for the smallest movement. The door didn’t budge. She sat, leaning against the door on the flat bit of ground she’d dug out. She ate some of the year-old jerky she had in her pack while the sun set.
It was a clear, moonless night, and Ana focused her attention on the whirl of the Milky Way overhead. The sight wasn’t enough to keep her mind off the stubborn door behind her and the aching of her joints from sitting on the rocky ground.
She stood and turned to take a last look at the door for the day. Even in the faint light of the stars, she thought she could make out the edges. At one corner, a flash caught her eye. She moved her head back and forth, trying to find the position that had, she thought, reflected light.
Not finding it, she pulled out her flashlight and shone it on the corner of the door where the flash was. She expected to see a reflection but saw none. She turned out the light, and there it was, except it was two flashes this time.
There was no doubt it was coming from inside, shining out a pinhole in the door seam at the upper left corner. “Monkey see, monkey do?” she asked herself. She pointed the flashlight at the corner and flashed it twice. When nothing happened, she flashed it again.
The response was five flashes. “Oh, fibbi-whatever,” she muttered. “Three and five is eight.” She flashed the light eight times. There was no immediate response. She began to worry that she’d been wrong in her counting or in what pattern they were looking for.
A loud hiss sounded as the whole door slid out away from the wall. Bright light shone around the edges of the door that continued to slide out, far thicker than she’d expected. Where she’d stopped digging in front of it, the door bulldozed its own path.
It stopped with a little less than a meter clearance between the back of the door and front of the rock wall. Beyond lay a downward-sloping walkway. It was shaped like an oval with a flattened floor. A voice echoed from within, “Enter, Anastasia.”
She didn’t know how they knew who she was, but she wasn’t going to turn back after having come so far. She stepped around the door, held by a single, flat piece of metal that disappeared into a groove in the ceiling. The metal that held the massive slab of stone looked far too flimsy for purpose, but pushing against the edges of the open door did nothing to sway the door or distort the metal support.
With a deep breath, Ana threw her pack over her shoulder and stepped into the hallway. As she continued down the hall, more would illuminate ahead of her while behind her, the lights shut off. Where the light came from was a mystery to her, but she was more interested in what lay ahead at that point.
She felt a slight, sudden increase in air pressure in the tunnel, followed by the echoing sound of the door as it closed. She pushed down the edges of panic that wanted to take hold. “I’m on my way,” she said to the tunnel.
The deeper she went, the more the temperature seemed to settle at close to fifteen or sixteen degrees Celsius. Her lips felt dry in the still air, and she applied lip balm while she continued apace ever deeper. Somewhere far underground, the tunnel curved back on itself and kept descending. After two more switchbacks, and what felt like hours of walking, she found herself in a chamber.
It was monumental in scale. The walls curved to meet at least twenty meters overhead. As the lights in the chamber came up, the far side looked a hundred or more meters away, while the doorway she was in was situated about twenty meters from the walls on either side. Covering the bottom two-thirds of the walls were row upon row of plastic-like boxes with lights blinking inside them.
In the center of the chamber was a dais with a holographic glyph floating in the air above it. Standing next to the dais was the owner of the voice she’d heard on entering. The shape was semi-translucent, the lights from the boxes behind it seeming to light it from within. “Welcome,” it said, although it had no mouth with which to speak. Its form shifted and changed, from an amorphous blob to an array of wings and eyes, then through creatures both real and mythical, until it finally settled into the shape of a large woman with wings.
“Who are you?” Ana asked.
“I am the keeper,” it said. “You are Anastasia, the seeker, yes?”
“I’m Anastasia Kell, but I go by Ana.” Ana moved closer to the center of the chamber and the shape-shifting entity at its center. “What is your name?”
“I am the keeper. I have no name.”
“Fine, I’ll call you Odette, then. You look like an Odette.”
The keeper flapped its wings twice, then shrunk its body by adding a long tail. “That is acceptable, seeker Anastasia.”
“Please, just call me Ana.”
“Of course, Ana. Please, come to the dais for your reward. Your dedication has won through.” The keeper moved away from the dais and extended an arm toward Ana. The arm kept extending, reaching Ana’s hand twenty meters away from the keeper.
Ana was surprised that the hand felt warm and dry. She’d expected some sort of slimy, cold thing, but it wasn’t. She let herself be led to the dais. “What are you?”
“I am the keeper.”
“Are you a biological creature or a construct of some sort? Some sort of soft-body robot, maybe.”
“I am a biological construct, designed to keep a record of all intelligent life on this world. I have been keeping these records for 72,363,412 years.”
“Since what…the dinosaurs?”
“Yes. The first were theropods. Traveling in hunter groups, they had a limited language. If they had been more adaptable, they might have not been already dying out by the time of the asteroid.” The keeper changed its shape to a theropod that Ana didn’t recognize. It was about the same height as her, with three-toed feet, three-fingered hand on medium-length arms, and a slightly domed head.
“That’s what they looked like?” she asked.
“Yes.” The keeper shifted into the shape of a porpoise. “There were and are the cetaceans, of course. They have language and culture but are not in a position to leave their cradle.”
“Is that what you’ve been waiting for? An intelligence capable of space travel?”
“Yes. My creators have placed other keepers like me on millions of worlds.” The keeper changed into a sphere. “This is where I am keeper.”
“So now, humans, I guess, are what you’ve been looking for.”
The keeper changed into a primate that resembled a chimpanzee and then morphed through several hominin species shapes, pausing on Neanderthal before finishing up with modern human. “I’ve watched entire civilizations come and go without so much as a scratch to mark them in the geologic record, and yet your kind has made an indelible mark on the planet. Whether that is for better or worse remains to be seen.”
“My guess would be worse, but I’m a pessimist.”
“So you say, but you never stopped searching for the library at the heart of the world.”
“True.” Ana took a deep breath and put a hand on the dais. The holographic glyph hovering above it disappeared, and an eight-limbed creature appeared in its place.
The creature spoke in English, even though its squishy mouthparts made movements that were often in total contradiction to the sounds it made. “Welcome, seeker Anastasia. Updating. Welcome, Ana. What would you like to learn today?”
“What are my limits here? This place was hard enough to find, what kind of things won’t you tell me?”
“The records will answer any questions you have that can be answered. Nonsensical and paradoxical queries will be ignored. The library is hidden to ensure that only those ready to take the next steps beyond their cradle can find it. As such, all our knowledge is yours for the asking.”
“So, I blinked a light in a simple sequence. How does that mean we’re ready to take the next steps – whatever those are?”
“You are the fourth generation of your family that has searched for the library, correct?” the holograph asked.
“I am.”
“And you have spent the majority of your adult life in the same search, have you not?”
“I have,” she said, “but how does that–”
“Multi-generational planning and execution, combined with drive and determination, and the knowledge of basic mathematical concepts. This is enough to start with.”
“Are you just another aspect of Odette?”
“No, I am the avatar of Krshnlgik-mlOgnk, the current head of remote planetary studies on our home world of MFkst.” The pronunciation of the non-translated names sounded more like someone choking in a bowl of oatmeal than a language.
“Is faster-than-light communication possible?”
“It is. I am currently speaking with you from a distance of thirty-one thousand light years.”
“How?”
A series of formulae appeared in the space above the dais. “You may use your phone to photograph these, since memorization might be difficult.”
Ana did. “And faster-than-light travel?”
The formulae were replaced with more, some of which looked similar to the first. She photographed those as well.
“Do you have any other questions?”
“How can you claim to keep track of everything happening all over the world?”
“The keeper, or Odette as you call it, has a connection through quintillions of microscopic wormholes to points all over the planet.”
“So, would you have the contents of the Library of Alexandria as they were just before it burned?”
“We do.” Thousands upon thousands of titles scrolled by, many in languages Ana couldn’t even guess at, but with an English translation next to them.
“That might be something for another day,” she said. “Are there others out there in the galaxy or just your people?”
“There are many others,” the avatar said, as images of dozens of strange body plans showed. “We are a small part of a wider galactic community.
“You seem to be pondering something,” the keeper said. “Do not be afraid to ask your question.”
“How do we get off this rock and join the galactic community?”
The keeper morphed into the shape of a cozy chair and said, “Get comfortable.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because,” the avatar answered, “this is going to take a long time to explain.”
prompt: Dream up a secret library. Write a story about an adventurer who discovers it. What’s in the library? Why was it kept secret?
originally posted at Reedsy

Author note: The Cryopod to Hell is a Reddit-exclusive story with over three years of editing and refining. As of this post, the total rewrite is 2,182,000+ words long! For more information, check out the link below:
What is the Cryopod to Hell?
Join the Cryoverse Discord server!
Here's a list of all Cryopod's chapters, along with an ePub/Mobi/PDF version!
Want to stay up to date on TCTH? Subscribe to Cryopodbot!
...................................
(Previous Part)
(Part 001)
"Hell yeah, I wanna go exploring." Jason says to Calanthra with a smile. "How do we navigate around Ripspace though? Traveling to other galaxies is going to take billions of years, right? Surely, there's a shortcut."
"Ripspace is not as it seems." Calanthra explains, gesturing grandly to the epic sight before them. "It is a connection between the past and the present; the near and far. The further away or the further back you want to travel, the higher the price you will have to pay."
Jason's smile vanishes. "Wait... you can use Ripspace to travel back in time?!"
"No." Calanthra clarifies. "Time is linear. We cannot travel through it. Some can slow it down or speed it up. A rare few can even pause it for a short while. But moving forward and backward is impossible. Countless have attempted to do so over the eons, but all have failed."
She looks at Jason meaningfully. "Many Rulers would wipe out galaxies if it might let them obtain such a power. The fact they still haven't proves it is impossible."
Jason nods slowly. "I won't lie. I have a lot of regrets. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and save my daughter from dying."
"Everyone has regrets." Calanthra muses, looking off into the distance. "I have plenty, myself. But it's better this way. There would be pandemonium if time travel ever became possible."
She pauses before continuing with her explanation. "While we cannot go back in time, we can look back into time. Pinpointing exact moments in history is difficult, to say the least, but it is possible to use Ripspace to search for key moments in intergalactic history."
"So it's like a massive seer-stone." Jason muses aloud. "But wait, didn't you imply earlier that you used Ripspace to travel to the Milky Way from Andromeda? How does it allow you to jump between galaxies? Are other species using Ripspace for intergalactic travel?"
"You can indeed use Ripspace to travel to distant reaches of space." Calanthra explains. "But... you have to pay a certain price. Akasha's Barriers still protect every galaxy. Cosmics cannot travel between them easily. Mortals can, but the price we must pay is unimaginably steep. That is also the reason my mother perished not long after arriving in the Milky Way and giving birth to me."
The Fairy Monarch sighs softly.
"My people used the power of Ripspace to travel to several other galaxies. We were fortunate that the Creator had died, allowing us to take up residence here in secret, but the Angels, Titans, and Dragons were still a threat we could not overlook. Later, the Volgrim rose up too, and that was something that worried us for a while. Particularly when their Sentinels began to rapaciously erase the lives of innumerable Sentients."
She waves her hand. "Ultimately, very few galaxies didn't have a Ruler in power. Traveling to one that did meant flipping a coin and praying our people could avoid their gaze. Sadly, time has shown me that we were likely unsuccessful. I have lost contact with all my sisters across the cosmos."
The image of innumerable galaxies floating in the distance changes before Jason's eyes. Calanthra manipulates some unseen power, causing herself and Jason to suddenly materialize directly in front of a beautiful spiral galaxy.
"This is our Milky Way." Calanthra explains, waving her hand to conjure another, far bigger galaxy beside it. "And this is Andromeda."
"Is it just me or does Andromeda seem... brighter?" Jason asks.
"Andromeda contains far more interstellar particles, cosmic energy, and latent magical power than the Milky Way." Calanthra says. "Of course, in the ancient past, it had even more than it does now, but such is the way of entropy and Chaos."
Jason nods. "How exactly do galaxies lose power over time? Doesn't this feel self-defeating in a way?"
"Every Ruler enters the Unending War with a strategy." Calanthra says, motioning with her hands to disperse the galaxies and reveal images of ghostly creatures, some standing on two legs, some on four, and plenty that appear as mere blobs of energy. "I cannot pretend to know the thoughts of such high and mighty beings, especially as I am a mere mortal myself. Even so, I can definitively state that there are Rulers who seek to put as much galactic energy into their initial creations as possible, while others wish to adopt a more energy-efficient growth-model."
She pokes her finger against Jason's chest. "Take the angels and humans, for instance. The Creator poured the vast majority of his power into creating a galaxy full of Apex Cosmics. At their peak, the angels as a whole commanded enough power to flatten other galaxies. But what did they do instead? They fought with one another, killing themselves due to sheer boredom, if not outright ego."
"I see." Jason says, brushing Calanthra's finger away. "So the Creator dumped all the Milky Way's energy into the angels. I take it this is uncommon among Rulers?"
"Of course. It's a wasteful strategy and usually loses Rulers the War for that Eternity." Calanthra says dismissively. "The Timeless used a different strategy. She created the fairies as mere mortals that evolved over time, gaining greater and greater power through their own efforts. This meant that instead of devouring Andromeda's abundant Cosmic energy, they could slowly sap off its excess over time. For you see, the more energy a galaxy has, the more it can produce. If you ration it long enough, you can reap more of it across the duration of an Eternity."
"That makes sense." Jason concludes. "It's like a Rush build in an RTS versus an Economy build. You sacrifice long-term gains in exchange for short-term power. The problem is, with Akasha's Barriers preventing Rulers from attacking their enemies straight away, a Rush build is dumb because you're just wasting your resources and sacrificing Cosmic energy when you'll actually need it."
Calanthra blinks twice. She looks at Jason with a strange expression, then turns away for a moment, trying to understand the strange terms he's used. They mostly make sense, but some of them are a little...
She shakes her head and returns to the topic at hand. "Right. Rush strategy versus Economy. Of... course. Well, in any case, there is one advantage toward the first strategy. If you drain all the energy from your galaxy, it becomes less appealing for other Rulers to attack. Because Andromeda was so large and still filled with Cosmic power even billions of years after the Expansion Era, it stoked the hunger of the Dark Ones. Meanwhile, the Milky Way only needs to deal with the Plague, which is threatening for mortals, but manageable for Cosmics. In that respect, we've gotten off much luckier."
"I get the bigger picture now." Jason says with a nod. He turns to look back at the cosmos before him. "So, what about all this? Are we gonna go exploring, or what?"
"In order to explore the universe presented here, we would need to make sacrifices we cannot afford. I think you would find the price most disagreeable. But there is something we can explore freely..."
She waves her hand, and instantly, the brilliant and beautiful cosmic view of the universe vanishes.
In its place, Jason and Calanthra suddenly appear inside a dead, barren wasteland. Brown and grey dirt rises up in huge dunes stretching off into the distance. Fallen towers made of gold and stone lay on their sides, or stick into the ground, buried nearly up to their tops as they point diagonally toward the sky.
And speaking of the sky, it glows faintly grey, as if some weak, pale imitation of a star were trying to shine through a thin atmosphere clouded by dust and grime. The very air itself smells of sulfur and toxins, making Jason's nose curl up when he takes a breath.
"Ugh... what the hell? Where are we now?" Jason asks, as he turns and looks around at the dead world surrounding him.
"An Ancient Domain." Calanthra says softly. "A remnant of a dead universe. All life stripped away. All hope lost. Septillions of different Sentient species, gone. Their mortals, their Cosmics, reduced to dust by the Contraction."
The Wordsmith frowns. "This Ancient Domain represents a dead universe? But how can that be possible? If the Heat Death played out and all the galaxies faded to cosmic dust, then there already wouldn't be anything left. And then, if the entire universe collapsed into a singularity before exploding again, there definitely wouldn't be anything left behind resembling physical matter."
"You perceive reality through just three dimensions." Calanthra intones. "Time and space can be considered two dimensions. Cosmic Power is another dimension. I must admit I do not understand how Ancient Domains have continued to exist across countless Eternities, and I don't know how they retain a vaguely familiar form... but I can assure you that in spite of bending logic itself, they do exist and they can provide tangible benefits to those dedicated to exploring them."
"You've been exploring them, then?" Jason asks, turning away from the dead world to scrutinize Calanthra's phantasmal image.
"Me, a little. But often, I dispatch my descendants to scour these Ancient Domains for things of value. It may surprise you, but there are powerful artifacts, vengeful spirits, and all manner of other inter-dimensional horrors lurking within these so-called dead-lands."
Calanthra pauses. She shifts her posture to look at Jason deeply.
"And that is why I've brought you here, Jason. It's time for me to get down to the crux of the matter and breach the subject that I find most important."
He nods. "I'm listening."
"It's like this." Calanthra explains. "The Ancient Domains are unfathomably broad. Think of how large a universe is. Think of how many universes have existed. Think of how much space my people have yet to explore."
She pauses.
"The gains we have received have made my people stronger than you would expect. Among those gains are Yredelemnul's Eye and other leftover remnants of power that many dead ancient Rulers lost when their Existences became forfeit. While their tangible Existences may have perished, their spirits sometimes live on in these broad, unending dead universes..."
"That's why you approached me." Jason says, while crossing his arms and leaning on the ball of his heel. "You said you wanted an alliance with humanity. You... want humans to help you explore the Ancient Domains?"
"Trust is hard to come by among mortals, Cosmics, and Rulers." Calanthra says simply. "I never would have considered allying with the humans before, but you have shown me the broadness of your mind during the debate against your clone and the commander of your military. To some, you certainly appear naive, but to me I see an opportunity I would be foolish to ignore."
She continues. "The Fairies cannot reproduce efficiently. Every fairy we send into the Ancient Domain is one less fairy we have among our Empire. We already have a difficult time replenishing our numbers through the remaining Male Fairies, but do you think it is easy for us to reproduce with other species?"
Jason slowly shakes his head. "Blinker and Kar's children were all crocodiles, not fairies. From that, I can only imagine that most of the time, your mating attempts do not create more of yourselves, but instead more non-fairy children."
"That's exactly correct." Calanthra replies. "But that all changed recently when I found out one of your human males somehow spontaneously altered his genetic profile to become a fairy. There is no doubt about it; Samuel Baker harnesses all the capability to reproduce that you humans do, as well as the trueborn powers of any male fairy."
"So... are you seeking a marriage alliance with Samuel Baker?" Jason asks, scratching his head in confusion. "You could just ask him yourself, you know?"
"This is not about one man." Calanthra retorts. "Samuel Baker, if he were to join our ranks, would certainly help us stave off extinction for a while longer. But that is hardly worth all this melodrama and me taking you to the Ancient Domain in person..."
Jason's eyes widen in realization. "I see! You... you're thinking that if my magic could make one male fairy, I could surely make another, and another..."
"Yes, precisely." Calanthra says, revealing a beautiful smile. "Additionally, if humans were to assist us in scouring these Ancient Domains, we could make great gains together. There is plenty of room for another species to join ours in locating powerful artifacts and other items capable of Uplifting us."
"You want to become Cosmics still." Jason muses. "You haven't resigned yourselves to your current fate."
"Quite the opposite." Calanthra says. "The curse placed upon us is unbreakable by those beneath the realm of Ruler. As I said before, the fairies have lost this Eternity's war. However, while we cannot Ascend any longer, that does not mean the humans are subject to the same limitation. If we could groom a human into becoming the Milky Way's Ruler, we could finally break free of our shackles by virtue of having a powerful ally."
She pauses, looking meaningfully at the Wordsmith.
"If the Demons or the Volgrim were to become our Ruler, we would not enjoy such a benefit. At best, we would only maintain the status quo, and at worst, they might eradicate us out of fear of having an unsightly tumor in their midst."
"Haha." Jason laughs. "So you brought me here to show your sincerity. I get it. Well, I'm definitely not opposed to helping you. Blinker is my good friend. If she were to ask me, I'd definitely say yes to just about any request."
Jason turns away. He walks a few feet off to the side and pauses, standing to gaze out at the Ancient Domain and its endlessly rolling plains which stretches off into the infinite distance...
"Here's what I can do." Jason says. "My people are already working on laying out the options for humanity and where our fellow men and women will depart over the next few weeks. Some will travel to Maiura. Some will go to Sharmur. Some will stay on Tarus II. It's no trouble at all to put Pixiv on the list, especially as I was already planning to do that. I even have some other places I'd like to include, too..."
"Such as Camael's Cube?" Calanthra asks with a smile. "Or do you perhaps mean Chrona and Hope's Hall of Heroes?"
Jason nearly jumps out of his skin. He whirls around to look at Calanthra with shock in his eyes. "What?! How do you know about Chrona? How do you also know about where Hope has been hiding?? I don't even know that much!"
"For those who are talented in magic, it is possible to see through many lies and deceptions." Calanthra says calmly, unfazed by the alarm on Jason's face. "Your Spynet Sphere isn't so different from the many options I have at my disposal. I have many means to keep an eye on the galaxy. And while Diablo does not know exactly where or what Chrona is, he certainly knows of its general existence."
Her smile turns cold. "I would advise you not to take Unarin lightly either, Wordsmith. That ancient creature is more capable than you can imagine. He is hiding a great many secrets from the galaxy... secrets he does not know that I am aware of. If he were to learn of the true extent of my information web, I fear that he would dispatch a handful of High Psions to eliminate the fairy species tomorrow."
Calanthra's words truly rock Jason to his core. All along, he assumed the precautions he put on Chrona, precautions that fooled even Hope, would make his hidden dimension impossible to detect.
But how could he be so naive?
As the daughter of an Apex Cosmic, Calanthra must have her means, and that likely means Unarin and Diablo aren't too far behind either.
"Shit." Jason curses, lowering his head as a flicker of anger smolders in his heart. "I was too complacent. Chrona isn't secure, which means it's only a matter of time before more Cosmics learn of its existence. How long before they can find its exact location and invade it?"
"Calm yourself, child." Calanthra says soothingly. "The situation is not that dire. After all, Chrona still exists within a highly accelerated timespace. Any biological entity that wishes to travel there could suffer severe after-effects. Furthermore, the entities born inside will be too adapted to living within a higher dimension, so they won't pose much threat to the creatures of realspace."
She waves her hand. "Let's move on, Jason. I want to discuss other matters before dying of old age."
The Wordsmith cools himself off. He inhales deeply, then returns his attention to her.
"Alright. What next, then?"
"Fairies are not the only Sentients capable of entering Ancient Domains." Calanthra explains. "There are others who rarely appear inside here. That is why exploring these domains can be dangerous. The good news is that Cosmics have little need to enter these barren lands, as most of the heritages, treasures, and other such gains you might find inside are only useful to mortals. There are exceptions, but they are so rare as to be a needle found within ten million haystacks. A waste of effort better spent simply progressing one's Cosmic power the ordinary way."
"So what you're saying is, when you send fairies into an Ancient Domain, they can die as a result of crossing paths with Sentients from other galaxies." Jason concludes. "But if you had an army of humans to enter with you, your people would be a lot safer."
"Safety in numbers, yes. And you humans are... uniquely advantaged in Ancient Domain exploration." Calanthra says mysteriously. "Before that, though... do you know what the Power of Imagination is, Wordsmith?"
Jason raises an eyebrow. "Imagination? Like the mental ability to visualize stuff in your head? Yeah. It's not that complicated to understand."
"Ah, that's where you're wrong." Calanthra chides gently. "Imagination is the key to magical power. Imagination, Conception, Visualization, these are all key capabilities powerful maguses and sorcerors use to uplift their capabilities! And as it turns out, most Sentients are actually quite terrible at conceptualizing thoughts into imagery."
She gestures grandly. "Just take the Volgrim! You may think they are a powerful Sentient species, but in fact the Volgrim have terrible imaginations. They are stodgy, dull, and lack a great deal of creativity. All the gains their Technopaths make through technology are developed via brute force. They slowly improve their technological prowess by minute fractions over long periods of time, eventually resulting in a large and cohesive buildup."
"At the same time, the Psions Uplift themselves through meditation and sitting motionless for thousands of years at a time. Can a species capable of such incredible feats of drudgery also possess limitless imagination? I think not."
"Maybe the reason they're able to sit still for so long is because they live in their imagination?" Jason posits. "In which case their power of imagination should be quite formidable, right?"
"Possible, but unlikely." Calanthra says with a wave of her hand. "Never mind that. The point I'm trying to make is that humans have an extremely high affinity for magic. If your people were to ally with mine, we could teach you our ways. You could help us through your Wordsmithing and superior genetics, creating more fairies and humans alike. This would create a recursive cycle that would continually bolster both our species to greater and greater heights!"
She lowers her voice back to normal. "An alliance with humanity would have other benefits. You humans are equally adept in technology and magic both. You are versatile, capable of learning any skill provided you have time to devote to your studies. The bursts of inspiration you receive also allow you to make large jumps in capability as well, which could mean that in a relatively short period, you might even be capable of challenging the Volgrim."
Jason nods. "That does sound tempting, Calanthra. I'm willing to help you, but I won't demand my people join the fairies. It would be better if those who were the most interested did so instead."
Calanthra playfully twirls a finger through her hair. "Well. My daughters are all beautiful. Perhaps you should make mention that the fairies are... aggressively interested in copulation?"
"COUGH COUGH!" Jason wheezes, taking a step back as he asses her bold choice of words. "Yeah! Uh, I can probably- I'll let everyone know about that too. Obviously!"
Calanthra chuckles. "Such a cute boy. Well, it seems I've accomplished what I wanted. Let's return for now. You can always pay Ripspace a visit later."
"I will." Jason says, nodding seriously. "Waypoint."
Calanthra raises an eyebrow. "You think you can return here without a Ruler's power?"
"Won't know unless I try." Jason smiles back.
...
Not long after, Jason and Calanthra emerge back into Realspace. He shivers as he feels the Eye of Yredelemnul fixating on him from behind, but Calanthra quickly reactivates the Formation of Light, sending the sliver of a Ruler back to the shadows so it can no longer interact with the physical world.
"You know, Jason." Calanthra says. "You are a Candidate. You have the capability to become a Ruler someday."
"I am?" Jason asks, before thinking back to a conversation in the past. "Oh yeah, someone did mention that to me before. But... eh. I don't know. Becoming a Ruler sounds awful."
"Awful?" Calanthra asks. "How so?"
"It seems... lonely." Jason says, his voice softening. He looks at the space between the four statues, where Yredelemnul's Eye has disappeared. "Imagine all your loved ones dying, but you're stuck behind, living through the end of an Eternity, which takes trillions of years before Heat Death finally eradicates everything. Then comes the next Eternity, where you can remake your species again... but it won't be the same. Even if you remake your loved ones, it won't really be them."
Jason lowers and shakes his head. "That sort of life doesn't suit me."
"I understand why you'd think that way." Calanthra says. "In fact, you are suffering from the same affliction that plagues all Candidates who began their Existences as Biologicals. We have too many ties to the mortal world, so the majority of Biologicals who ascend to the rank of Ruler... fall to their non-biological opponents."
"As for the things which are not biological..." Calanthra says, looking at Jason with disgust. "You should already know what they are."
"Highly evolved Artificial Intelligences?" Jason guesses.
"That's right." Calanthra affirms. "There are several tiers of power a superintelligence can possess. The Volgrim have taken great care to prevent anything above a Beta Core from forming in the Milky Way, but once, a long time ago... they made a huge mess by accidentally creating the Milky Way's first Alpha Core Synthmind."
Calanthra chuckles. "The stupid fools didn't only create an Alpha Core, they gave it autonomy in the hopes it would be able to stop the wars between their factions. They built indestructible bipedal bodies for its splintered intelligences, and called them... Sentinels. Luckily, they were able to defeat the Alpha Core before it ascended further, but countless other biological species have failed at that juncture, creating an Alpha Core that ultimately devoured the full power of their galaxy for itself."
A chill trickles down Jason's spine. "You're saying the vast majority of Rulers are actually Alpha Core AIs? AIs that control entire galaxies?!"
"No, Jason." Calanthra counters. "Alpha Cores can defeat advanced civilizations. But there is one Existence higher than an Alpha Core, a tier that can only be reached once it has swallowed the power of a galaxy."
"That would be an Omega Core. a sentient artificial intelligence that has become Ruler over one or more galaxies. And in Akasha's game, more than 90% of all Rulers are estimated to be these superior lifeforms."
"It is for that reason that these highly adaptable entities are known as The Evolved."

"Hell yeah, I wanna go exploring." Jason says to Calanthra with a smile. "How do we navigate around Ripspace though? Traveling to other galaxies is going to take billions of years, right? Surely, there's a shortcut."
"Ripspace is not as it seems." Calanthra explains, gesturing grandly to the epic sight before them. "It is a connection between the past and the present; the near and far. The further away or the further back you want to travel, the higher the price you will have to pay."
Jason's smile vanishes. "Wait... you can use Ripspace to travel back in time?!"
"No." Calanthra clarifies. "Time is linear. We cannot travel through it. Some can slow it down or speed it up. A rare few can even pause it for a short while. But moving forward and backward is impossible. Countless have attempted to do so over the eons, but all have failed."
She looks at Jason meaningfully. "Many Rulers would wipe out galaxies if it might let them obtain such a power. The fact they still haven't proves it is impossible."
Jason nods slowly. "I won't lie. I have a lot of regrets. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and save my daughter from dying."
"Everyone has regrets." Calanthra muses, looking off into the distance. "I have plenty, myself. But it's better this way. There would be pandemonium if time travel ever became possible."
She pauses before continuing with her explanation. "While we cannot go back in time, we can look back into time. Pinpointing exact moments in history is difficult, to say the least, but it is possible to use Ripspace to search for key moments in intergalactic history."
"So it's like a massive seer-stone." Jason muses aloud. "But wait, didn't you imply earlier that you used Ripspace to travel to the Milky Way from Andromeda? How does it allow you to jump between galaxies? Are other species using Ripspace for intergalactic travel?"
"You can indeed use Ripspace to travel to distant reaches of space." Calanthra explains. "But... you have to pay a certain price. Akasha's Barriers still protect every galaxy. Cosmics cannot travel between them easily. Mortals can, but the price we must pay is unimaginably steep. That is also the reason my mother perished not long after arriving in the Milky Way and giving birth to me."
The Fairy Monarch sighs softly.
"My people used the power of Ripspace to travel to several other galaxies. We were fortunate that the Creator had died, allowing us to take up residence here in secret, but the Angels, Titans, and Dragons were still a threat we could not overlook. Later, the Volgrim rose up too, and that was something that worried us for a while. Particularly when their Sentinels began to rapaciously erase the lives of innumerable Sentients."
She waves her hand. "Ultimately, very few galaxies didn't have a Ruler in power. Traveling to one that did meant flipping a coin and praying our people could avoid their gaze. Sadly, time has shown me that we were likely unsuccessful. I have lost contact with all my sisters across the cosmos."
The image of innumerable galaxies floating in the distance changes before Jason's eyes. Calanthra manipulates some unseen power, causing herself and Jason to suddenly materialize directly in front of a beautiful spiral galaxy.
"This is our Milky Way." Calanthra explains, waving her hand to conjure another, far bigger galaxy beside it. "And this is Andromeda."
"Is it just me or does Andromeda seem... brighter?" Jason asks.
"Andromeda contains far more interstellar particles, cosmic energy, and latent magical power than the Milky Way." Calanthra says. "Of course, in the ancient past, it had even more than it does now, but such is the way of entropy and Chaos."
Jason nods. "How exactly do galaxies lose power over time? Doesn't this feel self-defeating in a way?"
"Every Ruler enters the Unending War with a strategy." Calanthra says, motioning with her hands to disperse the galaxies and reveal images of ghostly creatures, some standing on two legs, some on four, and plenty that appear as mere blobs of energy. "I cannot pretend to know the thoughts of such high and mighty beings, especially as I am a mere mortal myself. Even so, I can definitively state that there are Rulers who seek to put as much galactic energy into their initial creations as possible, while others wish to adopt a more energy-efficient growth-model."
She pokes her finger against Jason's chest. "Take the angels and humans, for instance. The Creator poured the vast majority of his power into creating a galaxy full of Apex Cosmics. At their peak, the angels as a whole commanded enough power to flatten other galaxies. But what did they do instead? They fought with one another, killing themselves due to sheer boredom, if not outright ego."
"I see." Jason says, brushing Calanthra's finger away. "So the Creator dumped all the Milky Way's energy into the angels. I take it this is uncommon among Rulers?"
"Of course. It's a wasteful strategy and usually loses Rulers the War for that Eternity." Calanthra says dismissively. "The Timeless used a different strategy. She created the fairies as mere mortals that evolved over time, gaining greater and greater power through their own efforts. This meant that instead of devouring Andromeda's abundant Cosmic energy, they could slowly sap off its excess over time. For you see, the more energy a galaxy has, the more it can produce. If you ration it long enough, you can reap more of it across the duration of an Eternity."
"That makes sense." Jason concludes. "It's like a Rush build in an RTS versus an Economy build. You sacrifice long-term gains in exchange for short-term power. The problem is, with Akasha's Barriers preventing Rulers from attacking their enemies straight away, a Rush build is dumb because you're just wasting your resources and sacrificing Cosmic energy when you'll actually need it."
Calanthra blinks twice. She looks at Jason with a strange expression, then turns away for a moment, trying to understand the strange terms he's used. They mostly make sense, but some of them are a little...
She shakes her head and returns to the topic at hand. "Right. Rush strategy versus Economy. Of... course. Well, in any case, there is one advantage toward the first strategy. If you drain all the energy from your galaxy, it becomes less appealing for other Rulers to attack. Because Andromeda was so large and still filled with Cosmic power even billions of years after the Expansion Era, it stoked the hunger of the Dark Ones. Meanwhile, the Milky Way only needs to deal with the Plague, which is threatening for mortals, but manageable for Cosmics. In that respect, we've gotten off much luckier."
"I get the bigger picture now." Jason says with a nod. He turns to look back at the cosmos before him. "So, what about all this? Are we gonna go exploring, or what?"
"In order to explore the universe presented here, we would need to make sacrifices we cannot afford. I think you would find the price most disagreeable. But there is something we can explore freely..."
She waves her hand, and instantly, the brilliant and beautiful cosmic view of the universe vanishes.
In its place, Jason and Calanthra suddenly appear inside a dead, barren wasteland. Brown and grey dirt rises up in huge dunes stretching off into the distance. Fallen towers made of gold and stone lay on their sides, or stick into the ground, buried nearly up to their tops as they point diagonally toward the sky.
And speaking of the sky, it glows faintly grey, as if some weak, pale imitation of a star were trying to shine through a thin atmosphere clouded by dust and grime. The very air itself smells of sulfur and toxins, making Jason's nose curl up when he takes a breath.
"Ugh... what the hell? Where are we now?" Jason asks, as he turns and looks around at the dead world surrounding him.
"An Ancient Domain." Calanthra says softly. "A remnant of a dead universe. All life stripped away. All hope lost. Septillions of different Sentient species, gone. Their mortals, their Cosmics, reduced to dust by the Contraction."
The Wordsmith frowns. "This Ancient Domain represents a dead universe? But how can that be possible? If the Heat Death played out and all the galaxies faded to cosmic dust, then there already wouldn't be anything left. And then, if the entire universe collapsed into a singularity before exploding again, there definitely wouldn't be anything left behind resembling physical matter."
"You perceive reality through just three dimensions." Calanthra intones. "Time and space can be considered two dimensions. Cosmic Power is another dimension. I must admit I do not understand how Ancient Domains have continued to exist across countless Eternities, and I don't know how they retain a vaguely familiar form... but I can assure you that in spite of bending logic itself, they do exist and they can provide tangible benefits to those dedicated to exploring them."
"You've been exploring them, then?" Jason asks, turning away from the dead world to scrutinize Calanthra's phantasmal image.
"Me, a little. But often, I dispatch my descendants to scour these Ancient Domains for things of value. It may surprise you, but there are powerful artifacts, vengeful spirits, and all manner of other inter-dimensional horrors lurking within these so-called dead-lands."
Calanthra pauses. She shifts her posture to look at Jason deeply.
"And that is why I've brought you here, Jason. It's time for me to get down to the crux of the matter and breach the subject that I find most important."
He nods. "I'm listening."
"It's like this." Calanthra explains. "The Ancient Domains are unfathomably broad. Think of how large a universe is. Think of how many universes have existed. Think of how much space my people have yet to explore."
She pauses.
"The gains we have received have made my people stronger than you would expect. Among those gains are Yredelemnul's Eye and other leftover remnants of power that many dead ancient Rulers lost when their Existences became forfeit. While their tangible Existences may have perished, their spirits sometimes live on in these broad, unending dead universes..."
"That's why you approached me." Jason says, while crossing his arms and leaning on the ball of his heel. "You said you wanted an alliance with humanity. You... want humans to help you explore the Ancient Domains?"
"Trust is hard to come by among mortals, Cosmics, and Rulers." Calanthra says simply. "I never would have considered allying with the humans before, but you have shown me the broadness of your mind during the debate against your clone and the commander of your military. To some, you certainly appear naive, but to me I see an opportunity I would be foolish to ignore."
She continues. "The Fairies cannot reproduce efficiently. Every fairy we send into the Ancient Domain is one less fairy we have among our Empire. We already have a difficult time replenishing our numbers through the remaining Male Fairies, but do you think it is easy for us to reproduce with other species?"
Jason slowly shakes his head. "Blinker and Kar's children were all crocodiles, not fairies. From that, I can only imagine that most of the time, your mating attempts do not create more of yourselves, but instead more non-fairy children."
"That's exactly correct." Calanthra replies. "But that all changed recently when I found out one of your human males somehow spontaneously altered his genetic profile to become a fairy. There is no doubt about it; Samuel Baker harnesses all the capability to reproduce that you humans do, as well as the trueborn powers of any male fairy."
"So... are you seeking a marriage alliance with Samuel Baker?" Jason asks, scratching his head in confusion. "You could just ask him yourself, you know?"
"This is not about one man." Calanthra retorts. "Samuel Baker, if he were to join our ranks, would certainly help us stave off extinction for a while longer. But that is hardly worth all this melodrama and me taking you to the Ancient Domain in person..."
Jason's eyes widen in realization. "I see! You... you're thinking that if my magic could make one male fairy, I could surely make another, and another..."
"Yes, precisely." Calanthra says, revealing a beautiful smile. "Additionally, if humans were to assist us in scouring these Ancient Domains, we could make great gains together. There is plenty of room for another species to join ours in locating powerful artifacts and other items capable of Uplifting us."
"You want to become Cosmics still." Jason muses. "You haven't resigned yourselves to your current fate."
"Quite the opposite." Calanthra says. "The curse placed upon us is unbreakable by those beneath the realm of Ruler. As I said before, the fairies have lost this Eternity's war. However, while we cannot Ascend any longer, that does not mean the humans are subject to the same limitation. If we could groom a human into becoming the Milky Way's Ruler, we could finally break free of our shackles by virtue of having a powerful ally."
She pauses, looking meaningfully at the Wordsmith.
"If the Demons or the Volgrim were to become our Ruler, we would not enjoy such a benefit. At best, we would only maintain the status quo, and at worst, they might eradicate us out of fear of having an unsightly tumor in their midst."
"Haha." Jason laughs. "So you brought me here to show your sincerity. I get it. Well, I'm definitely not opposed to helping you. Blinker is my good friend. If she were to ask me, I'd definitely say yes to just about any request."
Jason turns away. He walks a few feet off to the side and pauses, standing to gaze out at the Ancient Domain and its endlessly rolling plains which stretches off into the infinite distance...
"Here's what I can do." Jason says. "My people are already working on laying out the options for humanity and where our fellow men and women will depart over the next few weeks. Some will travel to Maiura. Some will go to Sharmur. Some will stay on Tarus II. It's no trouble at all to put Pixiv on the list, especially as I was already planning to do that. I even have some other places I'd like to include, too..."
"Such as Camael's Cube?" Calanthra asks with a smile. "Or do you perhaps mean Chrona and Hope's Hall of Heroes?"
Jason nearly jumps out of his skin. He whirls around to look at Calanthra with shock in his eyes. "What?! How do you know about Chrona? How do you also know about where Hope has been hiding?? I don't even know that much!"
"For those who are talented in magic, it is possible to see through many lies and deceptions." Calanthra says calmly, unfazed by the alarm on Jason's face. "Your Spynet Sphere isn't so different from the many options I have at my disposal. I have many means to keep an eye on the galaxy. And while Diablo does not know exactly where or what Chrona is, he certainly knows of its general existence."
Her smile turns cold. "I would advise you not to take Unarin lightly either, Wordsmith. That ancient creature is more capable than you can imagine. He is hiding a great many secrets from the galaxy... secrets he does not know that I am aware of. If he were to learn of the true extent of my information web, I fear that he would dispatch a handful of High Psions to eliminate the fairy species tomorrow."
Calanthra's words truly rock Jason to his core. All along, he assumed the precautions he put on Chrona, precautions that fooled even Hope, would make his hidden dimension impossible to detect.
But how could he be so naive?
As the daughter of an Apex Cosmic, Calanthra must have her means, and that likely means Unarin and Diablo aren't too far behind either.
"Shit." Jason curses, lowering his head as a flicker of anger smolders in his heart. "I was too complacent. Chrona isn't secure, which means it's only a matter of time before more Cosmics learn of its existence. How long before they can find its exact location and invade it?"
"Calm yourself, child." Calanthra says soothingly. "The situation is not that dire. After all, Chrona still exists within a highly accelerated timespace. Any biological entity that wishes to travel there could suffer severe after-effects. Furthermore, the entities born inside will be too adapted to living within a higher dimension, so they won't pose much threat to the creatures of realspace."
She waves her hand. "Let's move on, Jason. I want to discuss other matters before dying of old age."
The Wordsmith cools himself off. He inhales deeply, then returns his attention to her.
"Alright. What next, then?"
"Fairies are not the only Sentients capable of entering Ancient Domains." Calanthra explains. "There are others who rarely appear inside here. That is why exploring these domains can be dangerous. The good news is that Cosmics have little need to enter these barren lands, as most of the heritages, treasures, and other such gains you might find inside are only useful to mortals. There are exceptions, but they are so rare as to be a needle found within ten million haystacks. A waste of effort better spent simply progressing one's Cosmic power the ordinary way."
"So what you're saying is, when you send fairies into an Ancient Domain, they can die as a result of crossing paths with Sentients from other galaxies." Jason concludes. "But if you had an army of humans to enter with you, your people would be a lot safer."
"Safety in numbers, yes. And you humans are... uniquely advantaged in Ancient Domain exploration." Calanthra says mysteriously. "Before that, though... do you know what the Power of Imagination is, Wordsmith?"
Jason raises an eyebrow. "Imagination? Like the mental ability to visualize stuff in your head? Yeah. It's not that complicated to understand."
"Ah, that's where you're wrong." Calanthra chides gently. "Imagination is the key to magical power. Imagination, Conception, Visualization, these are all key capabilities powerful maguses and sorcerors use to uplift their capabilities! And as it turns out, most Sentients are actually quite terrible at conceptualizing thoughts into imagery."
She gestures grandly. "Just take the Volgrim! You may think they are a powerful Sentient species, but in fact the Volgrim have terrible imaginations. They are stodgy, dull, and lack a great deal of creativity. All the gains their Technopaths make through technology are developed via brute force. They slowly improve their technological prowess by minute fractions over long periods of time, eventually resulting in a large and cohesive buildup."
"At the same time, the Psions Uplift themselves through meditation and sitting motionless for thousands of years at a time. Can a species capable of such incredible feats of drudgery also possess limitless imagination? I think not."
"Maybe the reason they're able to sit still for so long is because they live in their imagination?" Jason posits. "In which case their power of imagination should be quite formidable, right?"
"Possible, but unlikely." Calanthra says with a wave of her hand. "Never mind that. The point I'm trying to make is that humans have an extremely high affinity for magic. If your people were to ally with mine, we could teach you our ways. You could help us through your Wordsmithing and superior genetics, creating more fairies and humans alike. This would create a recursive cycle that would continually bolster both our species to greater and greater heights!"
She lowers her voice back to normal. "An alliance with humanity would have other benefits. You humans are equally adept in technology and magic both. You are versatile, capable of learning any skill provided you have time to devote to your studies. The bursts of inspiration you receive also allow you to make large jumps in capability as well, which could mean that in a relatively short period, you might even be capable of challenging the Volgrim."
Jason nods. "That does sound tempting, Calanthra. I'm willing to help you, but I won't demand my people join the fairies. It would be better if those who were the most interested did so instead."
Calanthra playfully twirls a finger through her hair. "Well. My daughters are all beautiful. Perhaps you should make mention that the fairies are... aggressively interested in copulation?"
"COUGH COUGH!" Jason wheezes, taking a step back as he asses her bold choice of words. "Yeah! Uh, I can probably- I'll let everyone know about that too. Obviously!"
Calanthra chuckles. "Such a cute boy. Well, it seems I've accomplished what I wanted. Let's return for now. You can always pay Ripspace a visit later."
"I will." Jason says, nodding seriously. "Waypoint."
Calanthra raises an eyebrow. "You think you can return here without a Ruler's power?"
"Won't know unless I try." Jason smiles back.
...
Not long after, Jason and Calanthra emerge back into Realspace. He shivers as he feels the Eye of Yredelemnul fixating on him from behind, but Calanthra quickly reactivates the Formation of Light, sending the sliver of a Ruler back to the shadows so it can no longer interact with the physical world.
"You know, Jason." Calanthra says. "You are a Candidate. You have the capability to become a Ruler someday."
"I am?" Jason asks, before thinking back to a conversation in the past. "Oh yeah, someone did mention that to me before. But... eh. I don't know. Becoming a Ruler sounds awful."
"Awful?" Calanthra asks. "How so?"
"It seems... lonely." Jason says, his voice softening. He looks at the space between the four statues, where Yredelemnul's Eye has disappeared. "Imagine all your loved ones dying, but you're stuck behind, living through the end of an Eternity, which takes trillions of years before Heat Death finally eradicates everything. Then comes the next Eternity, where you can remake your species again... but it won't be the same. Even if you remake your loved ones, it won't really be them."
Jason lowers and shakes his head. "That sort of life doesn't suit me."
"I understand why you'd think that way." Calanthra says. "In fact, you are suffering from the same affliction that plagues all Candidates who began their Existences as Biologicals. We have too many ties to the mortal world, so the majority of Biologicals who ascend to the rank of Ruler... fall to their non-biological opponents."
"As for the things which are not biological..." Calanthra says, looking at Jason with disgust. "You should already know what they are."
"Highly evolved Artificial Intelligences?" Jason guesses.
"That's right." Calanthra affirms. "There are several tiers of power a superintelligence can possess. The Volgrim have taken great care to prevent anything above a Beta Core from forming in the Milky Way, but once, a long time ago... they made a huge mess by accidentally creating the Milky Way's first Alpha Core Synthmind."
Calanthra chuckles. "The stupid fools didn't only create an Alpha Core, they gave it autonomy in the hopes it would be able to stop the wars between their factions. They built indestructible bipedal bodies for its splintered intelligences, and called them... Sentinels. Luckily, they were able to defeat the Alpha Core before it ascended further, but countless other biological species have failed at that juncture, creating an Alpha Core that ultimately devoured the full power of their galaxy for itself."
A chill trickles down Jason's spine. "You're saying the vast majority of Rulers are actually Alpha Core AIs? AIs that control entire galaxies?!"
"No, Jason." Calanthra counters. "Alpha Cores can defeat advanced civilizations. But there is one Existence higher than an Alpha Core, a tier that can only be reached once it has swallowed the power of a galaxy."
"That would be an Omega Core. a sentient artificial intelligence that has become Ruler over one or more galaxies. And in Akasha's game, more than 90% of all Rulers are estimated to be these superior lifeforms."
"It is for that reason that these highly adaptable entities are known as The Evolved."

Hi there's only 6 days left and I still can't figure out which university I want to go to so I want to get some opinions here.
I have gotten offers from NTU computer science, smu computer science and sutd computer science and design. i have also gotten a scholarship from sutd as well.
The problem is that while I really like sutd, im worried about the rigour of the modules as other posts on reddit have said that sutd's modules are 1.5x more rigourous compared to other unis. i am fine with it if this only applies to the computer science core modules, but it seems that the first year modules which have a bunch of liberal arts and biology are also just as hard. the humanities modules even carry on till year 4. i didnt really do well for humanities and biology in secondary school and am kinda worried. i also really like the idea of staying in hostels in the first year as i always wanted to experience living on my own
i really want to experience a semester abroad and smu seems to offer that, they seem to have a good curriculum as well, however smu does not have any halls :(
and for ntu, the latest ges results are not as good as the other unis. however, ntu has hall and overseas opportunities. it also has a high reputation worldwide which would help if i was to do a masters or work overseas.
im interested to know what y'all would do if you were in my shoes so pls let me know your thoughts

A/N: yeah I changed up the Alliance admiral's name from Shepard Adama to Sheparda Dama (so creative i know) because the old one was going to fuck me over badly at some point. It would be like trying to make a legitimate, serious fantasy novel with a wizard named Albus Gandalf. I was NOT cooking when I came up with that shit.
First Previous Wiki Next
It was said that no plan ever survived contact with the enemy. That, at least in the case of Marcus Wayne’s infiltration of Neldia, was proven entirely true.
His ship, the Peacemaker, had undergone an extensive refit before its jump to Neldia to both modify its sensor signature and repair its failing Aegis barrier. The first objective succeeded. The second did not.
One day later, leaving the derelict Ultimate Vigil behind in deep space, the United Human Alliance courier ship Winged Deliverance logged a real space entry at the edge of the Neldia system. Its crew, having spent their waking hours plagued by hallucinations and enduring horrible nightmares as they slept, found this shift very welcome. The worst, though they could hardly believe it, was still yet to come.
“The Neldian fleet is mustering for war,” rumbled the man who had once held the title and security codes of an Alliance sector admiral. Now, he was a traitor to his homeland. “Security will be high.”
“No need to worry, Admiral,” said Marcus Wayne. “Your code will get us through.” It would not.
It took two hours for the Peacemaker, disguised as the Winged Deliverance, to be challenged by the Neldian Armada. “Transmit clearance code,” said an automated voice. Marcus took out a data disc with the admiral's clearance code on it.
“Hold,” said Terris. She was clad in black, her active camouflage offline to save battery, and she had been sitting at the passive sensor console for the past three hours. “Look at this.” A news broadcast popped up in front of Marcus Wayne and his officers. Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama, or at least he was once a sector admiral, had been tried and convicted of high treason.
“It was a secret trial,” Dama said, still in shock at the revelation. “I had no knowledge of this.”
“Well, that tracks, but what do we do now? What code gets us through?”
“Transmit clearance code,” the voice said again, “or adjust course.”
Dama thought for a moment. “Change course,” he said. “We’re not getting through.”
They did. A great sense of defeat took hold in the hearts of the crew. They would never reach the Neldian hypercom. Sheparda Dama, who would have gladly given his life in defense of humankind, would never get the chance to be the man who broke their chains.
The Peacemaker was halfway out of the Neldia system before Terris spoke again. “Hold it,” she said. “I have an idea.”
That was why she had been placed where she was. Clad in an airtight stealth suit. Inside a hollowed-out asteroid. On a ballistic journey to the heart of Neldian space. It was the most insane idea that Marcus Wayne had ever seen.
But, sometimes, insanity was a symptom of genius.
Terris flew past the Neldian Armada undetected. Many asteroids entered the inner system this way, flung by outer-system prospecting ships to the foundries and shipyards in Neldian orbit, and they were thrown and caught so frequently that only the most cursory of inspections was put upon each one. Terris passed the Alliance fleet entirely undetected.
Terris’ chameleon suit could mimic the sensor return of the precious metals it was buried in, at least enough to fool a probing scan, and the cuts made by Protectoral engineers had been so precise that Terris had fit inside there with barely a centimeter of space to spare. She was effectively entombed inside sixty meters of solid rock.
Interstellar espionage was not a job for the claustrophobic.
Finally, after days of waiting, the signal came. She was in range. A mental command triggered a series of shaped charges in the rock above her, if such directions existed in microgravity, and forty pea-sized explosives blasted a circular tunnel all the way to the asteroid surface. If just one of them had failed, that rock might have been her tomb.
Terris tried not to think about that as she began climbing her way out. A brief burst from her suit’s EVA thrusters was enough to start her on her way, and the tunnel out was wide enough for her to use her arms and legs to speed things up. Finally, after too long a wait, Terris saw the Neldian sun for the very first time.
There was fire in the distance. Comm chatter on every band. Warships burning hard for the outer system. The Coalition fleet was here.
She zoomed in, far more than she had ever had to before, and she could pick out the faintest flashes of blue as warships exploded in the black. A brief crawl around the asteroid, which also helped to warm up her muscles after days of inactivity, let her discern an attack force engaging the Alliance fleet. After a moment’s hesitation, weighing the risks, Terris activated her passive sensor suite to try and decrypt Alliance military chatter.
Instantly, her sensors were flooded with noise from the defensive bastions. The fleet base at the L5 point was loudest, its comm operators screaming indecipherably at fellow Alliance elements fighting in the black. Neldian orbit, where the hypercom station was, seemed to be the centerpiece of all the communications traffic. The hypercom, unsurprisingly, was being used as a relay for comm traffic all across the system. Terris made a note to hack its server banks for intelligence, and perhaps leave a timed virus or two to shut down the system after she was gone.
Her suit bleeped, alerting her that she was in optimum position to make the leap to the hypercom. She zoomed in on it, a red and spiked thing just like everything else the Alliance made, and calculated the right trajectory to land right on its metal surface.
Trying to jump from a moving asteroid out past Neldia’s rings and hit a hypercom station barely three hundred meters in diameter was like shooting a rifle from a jumbo jet in hopes of hitting a mosquito down on Earth. A nearly impossible shot, even with Coalition computers to help make the jump, and anyone lucky enough to make it would have been better served bankrupting their local casino at the slot machines.
Terris gave a command to her suit, activating a set of ion thrusters to boost her off the asteroid and adjust her course mid-flight. She’d never believed in luck.
She coasted silent and graceful past the particle guns in high orbit, like a majestic swan flying on a summer wind. Their sensor arrays were directed out, past her, to the far distant parts of space where a trillion tons of steel were locked in deadly battle. Terris really did wish she could smile at the moment. She was about to have unrestricted access to the biggest communications relay in the star system, able to send out viruses and receive vital intelligence that could cripple the Alliance fleet if placed in the right hands. Terris, confident as ever, knew they would be.
They had no idea she was even coming.
She reached the hypercom station in just under a day, agonizingly slow for a woman like her, hovering just above its surface to avoid triggering pressure sensors. After that, it was simple enough to get inside. Terris found it almost trivial to bypass the airlock sensor grid and trigger the outer bulkhead to open unnoticed, its report to the command room destroyed before it ever arrived. Entering the station itself was easy after that.
Here, there was gravity. She could not hover like she had on the outside of the station. But here, there were no pressure sensors. She really had no need to hover.
The corridor she found herself in was large enough, though nothing like the expansive halls of a dreadnought, and a patrol of marines in powered suits trundled towards her obliviously. Terris had made the right call not to wear a Phantom powered suit. She ducked into an alcove, the chameleon suit concealing her from even their impressive sensor batteries, and they passed by with no clue at all.
Terris made it to the server banks with ease. Most of the hypercom’s security measures took the form of warships in orbit, clustered tightly around the planet to prevent exactly this scenario from happening, but those warships were off waging war. The station defenses were hopeless now that she was actually inside.
The data was encrypted, and she could neither access it nor copy it without potentially fatal consequences, but she wasn’t there to steal data. A brief, milliseconds-long connection to the primary server was all it took to riddle the entire system with custom-tailored computer viruses. The viruses were self-replicating, rather like an electronic version of the biological ones on Earth. They worked similarly, too, meant to latch onto outgoing communications signals and remain inert for a certain amount of time before activating and wreaking havoc across cyberspace.
The program would be scoured from the net in seconds once it began its assault, but it would cause plenty of chaos before then. And, with another critical transmission being scheduled to send at around that time, Terris knew her mostly-ineffective virus attack would be just enough of a distraction to make sure its message was heard.
Terris planned to leave the station in approximately thirty minutes. Shortly after that, the fireworks would begin. It was going to be beautiful.
She heard footsteps. A maintenance worker, no doubt. It was time for her to go. She disconnected from the server, taking pains to hide her involvement, and snuck out of the server room like a ghost in the night.
Next was the transmission array. This room was better-guarded, its door being flanked by marines, but Terris slipped inside by trailing behind an officer as he entered on some unknown pretext. After that, her daring and sleight of hand made sure Admiral Dama’s pre-recorded propaganda transmission was uploaded to the hypercom transmitter. It came with a set of instructions bearing the Admiralty’s seal, changed to be anonymous, to ensure as many people as possible heard his message.
In just under one standard hour, the United Human Alliance would be shaken to its very core. Terris had just made sure of it.
It took longer than she had expected for the door to open again and give her a chance to slip out. Terris had spent that time quite productively, downloading as many incoming and outgoing messages as she could to the internal hard drive just by her spinal cord. Even if they were encrypted, they’d be useful intelligence once Coalition codebreakers took a crack at them.
After that, it was trivial to slip past marine patrols and escape to the hull of the hypercom station. Terris found her ride, an Alliance warship by the name of Brightest Thunder, holding orbit just near the hypercom station. Admiral Dama, even if he was no longer an admiral, still had connections.
She charged her ion thrusters by tapping into the station reactor, an act which did not go unnoticed, but by then it was too late to respond. She had completed her incursion. The damage had been done. Perhaps if the Alliance acted swiftly and accurately, they could undo it, but Terris was a careful woman. She had covered her tracks well.
Waving one final goodbye to the crew of the hypercom station, Terris triggered her thrust pack and shot off into the ink.
“You must be my passenger.” A handsome man in an Alliance captain’s uniform was waiting for her in the Brightest Thunder’s airlock. He wore a helmet and gloves, hermetically sealed to his airtight outfit, so he felt no effects from the vacuum of space. “I was sent by Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama,” he announced after a period of silence, “To transport you and whatever you may have safely to the Coalition fleet.” Nothing. Apart from the dull thudding of the ship’s railgun batteries, firing missiles at range to ward off a strike force of Coalition ships, the airlock was quiet as a ghost.
“You cannot expect me to endanger my life and the lives of my crew without at least some identification that you are who you claim to be!” Silence. Captain Senar Trevy had been standing in that airlock for three and a half hours, while his ship was tasked with screening Neldia and her eighteen billion inhabitants from harm, and he was just now wondering if he had been talking to a ghost.
“I am,” came a voice. Cold. Sterile. Inhuman. Exactly the kind Trevy expected from the secret spies of his former admiral.
“So you are.” Captain Trevy thought for a moment. He cycled the airlock. If his guest held hostile intent, one steel bulkhead would make no difference. “I’ve been stocking the crew with handpicked men and women since I received word of the operation,” he explained as they walked through the ship’s corridors. The crewmen he passed thought him insane. “I can’t vouch for them all, but the ship as a whole will obey me.” No response. Sometimes, Captain Trevy thought himself insane as well.
“This is my personal quarters,” he told the specter, stepping inside and sealing the door behind him. “I must warn you, for your own safety, it would be best not to leave it. The crew are mostly still Alliance loyalists.” He looked around, paying no heed to the decorated furniture or artificial sky, and finally shrugged and sighed. “Are you even here, still?”
Terris decloaked. She stood between him and the door, winged and cloaked in black like a demon of ancient myth. “I am.”
“You’re a black angel.” Senar Trevy, to his credit, kept his composure well. “A spy for the Ierad Republic.” He questioned her purpose here. They both knew it.
“You weren’t told?”
“I was told an alien would be coming aboard, but…” Trevy shrugged again, as if to say ‘what am I supposed to do?’ “The admiral vouched for you. That much is enough for me.” He also knew he had no choice in the matter. From what he knew about black angels, his ship had been lost the moment she boarded.
“I could have impersonated him,” said Terris, voice a perfect replica of Captain Trevy’s own. Even his own mother could not have told the difference. “And I’m trained to lie.” She was testing him, gauging his reaction to assess his personality. She was good at that.
“I could have you screened for deception,” Trevy countered, pointing up at a pearl-sized camera in the ceiling. Terris made a note that it was disabled. “And I could have had the technology officers vet your transmission.”
“I’m trained to lie well.” Terris sat down on Captain Trevy’s bed, a spartan thing compared to the sleeping quarters of most officers. There were no chairs in the room, so her options were few. She took off her helmet and tried to at least appear relaxed. In reality, she was anything but. “It comes with the job, really.”
“Fair,” Trevy chuckled, feigning calm. “I suppose the question now becomes whether or not you can trust me.”
“It’s a safe gamble.” Terris made a mental calculation. It would take her between thirty and fifty seconds to kill Captain Trevy, take the bridge, and vent the ship. That was a very safe gamble. “Besides, that’s what a peace treaty is.” Trevy looked confused. “A leap of faith. You trust your enemy to back their word, and you trust them to trust you as well. If we can’t get along here, can’t put aside our differences to work toward a common goal, then the Alliance will be right. And I hate it when they’re right.”
“I’m speaking to you now because I know they are wrong.” That came as no surprise to either of them. “You know, I was once a foreman of a labor crew in the munitions factories. The most productive unit in my sector.” That one did come as a surprise. “As a foreman, you get leeway to make certain decisions regarding the… well, I suppose they are slaves, under your command. Food intake and the like.” Captain Trevy looked pained when he brought up such memories. Terris wasn’t convinced that was how he really felt. “They use it to weed out any potential xeno sympathizers from the populace. Of course, at the time, I wasn’t so empathetic.”
“So you were a slave driver, and you beat your slaves to make them work. I hope every one of those shells was sabotaged.” Terris’ voice dripped with disdain. She had almost forgotten the Alliance captain was her enemy.
“No, I showed mercy,” Trevy defended himself. “I was generous.” This made Terris reconsider. Perhaps Senar Trevy could be an ally, if not a friend. “I won’t say I was a good man, but I wasn’t cruel. I was practical. Strong, healthy, well-treated workers are more productive than the beaten sacks of flesh in the other factories. My crew’s output was unmatched.”
“And?” Terris cocked her head inquisitively. For a high-ranking officer in the space navy of a genocidal regime, Senar Trevy really did not seem so bad. To be fair, however, she had set the bar pretty low.
“I was investigated for anti-human activity.” Terris could have predicted that. She almost did, too. “They sent me to the fleet, and my labor crew was reacquainted with the energy whips and pain beams.” There was no carrot for an Alliance labor slave. Only the stick. “Their productivity fell thirty percent in the first two weeks alone.” He sounded almost mournful as he said that. He was not lamenting the loss in productivity.
“You see,” said Trevy, “Hatred is not natural. It has to be caused, sustained, nurtured from the day a man is born until the day he dies.” With that, at least, Terris agreed. “And, as you’re about to see, a nation built around cruelty or prejudice cannot sustain itself. It will have to apply pressure to maintain its flawed status quo, like it did with me, and the pressure will build and build until it cannot build anymore.” He tapped a few buttons on the data disc in his hand. It began projecting an image of the battle for Neldia. He placed it on the bed next to Terris. “Now it’s breaking.”
“I wonder if they’ll find themselves in need of more shells.” Terris knew it wasn’t just shells. Every time a slave driver prioritized hatred over hard work, put cruelty over their quota, or even just bowed their head and obeyed the traditional dogma, they hurt the Alliance. Across nine worlds, with billions of slaves not working as they could have, things started to add up. “You know, for a superior species, your fleet is really getting its ass kicked right now. Might want to work on that.”
Captain Trevy nodded. His data disc beeped. He was needed on the bridge. “Agreed,” he said. “I hope this war ends soon, and to our mutual benefit. I’d hate to face you on the battlefield.” He picked up the data disc and turned to leave.
“Oh, forgot to mention, there’s a virus embedded in the transmissions you’ve received. Self-replicating. Nasty piece of work.” Terris shifted a bit in her seat. “Almost forgot about that.”
“Well, better to know now than when it’s activated,” Trevy smiled. “I’ll have Technology Officer Galdir investigate it.” With that, he left. His duty to the Alliance was nonexistent, but the men and women under his command still needed him. He had waited too long in the stateroom.
Terris, with nothing better to do, got to work on cracking the encryption in the transmissions she had copied. She failed. A transmission from deep in unknown space, sent from a dreadnought at the head of a task force known only as the Deep Expedition Fleet, was the only message she could read. Its contents, while troubling, mattered little at the moment. What was far more crucial, however, was the message Terris could not decipher. The military battle plan of Janus Ora’s personal armada.
The battle plan that, when analyzed on a Republic starship, would reveal its terrible secret too late.
The Coalition fleet was walking into a trap.
First Previous Wiki Next

"Carcosa is a planet orbiting a twin sun" silence met hers, a primitive warrior from a world barely escaping their own bronze age "it was amongst the first dozen worlds that I brought to compliant, one that you know very dearly about" and no matter how patient she is, nor how enticing her tone, tutoring a "tribute" of a primitive will always be her most hated task, far worse than Diplomatic Maneuvers her father once instilled.
The primitive, still donning his homeworld's warrior attire, brings only silent gaze, devoid of any signs of communication. She could have genuinely thought that he was not paying attention, but his similarly lack of movement could be a testament of his discipline, albeit to where that sense of control went she could only guess.
"Are you even listening" she ask, to break the silence made by his lack of any response. The primitive was startled, as if someone broke his silent nap, and his fingers immediately went to his helmet, one carved with a visage of a skull.
"I apologize for my response, or my lack thereof, and it is unbefitting of a student to reciprocate to his teacher as such" as his hair pass the helmet, she saw a bloodshot eyes, ready to burst and taint his alienly pale skin "and despite of my response, know that I -"
"Let us get you medical attention, then we can continue the session" I stand and easily grip his armor, carrying him akin to a sack of grain from my childhood. Navigating efficiently across the hall of the ship, she quickly reach the medical bay, where an apothecary quickly abandon his idle chats with the other of her sons "you won't be needed" she gestures, before placing the primitives on the green cot, where medical servitors swarms him to find any diseases or injuries and apply the necessary treatment.
"He's a hindrance to you, my Lady" the azure cladded behemoth, that stands far shorter than her, speaks his mind "your efficiency has certainly stooped a lower than before"
"Alcade, you speak your mind too loudly" though she have to agree, between the Warp drive between system, she has been stuck with the tribute with little chance to put him somewhere in Ultramar, and it eagers her so to outright stop by a contested planet and put him there.
"He's unfit for our weapon, much less the weapon of modernity" Alcade Castor's clean-shaven head reflected the room's light "a liability to the ship, another mouth for the rations I say"
The servitors stepped back once they have healed the primitive's condition, a thing about readjusting his sight after living with a black sun all his life. He approached the gathering, nearly reaching half of her height, before looking Alcade. Put an emphasis at looking, the primitive is staring at Alcade's bright head.
"Is hair a scarce commodity, my Lady?" he flippantly asked
As much as well spoken he is, he seems to drop the facade whenever he's talking to those other than the Lady. The following bout would prove interesting, as Alcade fumes over the question and stares back at the primitive.
"My Lady, allow me to have an honorable duel with this runt" he crooked his own stature, intending to stare directly at his eyes "it will be the most awarding for this little primitive"
Juno need not to agree, nor to answer, as the three of them found themselves walking to the ship's armory. All inhabitants of the ship are looking at Alcade's apparent bravery to keep his shining head out as he passes, as they thought something interesting is happening that needs him to not put his helmet on. It took the commissar to bark orders to return back to duties, but most request an early break to see what's happening, and looking at the direction Alcade is striding to, it will be an interesting bout indeed.
Alcade discard of his helmet at the helmet, then grasping at a longsword of the Ultramarine, on whom yet to be a relic, and twirl it around before igniting the arcs of electricity.
"Let us make this fair" he stands on a meager arena, designed for weapon testing but not as a sparring ground, much less for a duel "I wore the armor, and you may choose a weapon of your liking"
The primitive does not need a long time, only that he already grasp a marine's knife at his hands, as if he's wielding the sword of his homeworld "And I request a condition"
"Speak of it then" he spat as he watches the primitive enter the ground, not a meter from each others, respective blade of their choosing at the ready
"That the lights turned off, and we fight in abyssal darkness"
"As if it will change anything, runt" mankind's finest have no problem in seeing in near-darkness, though it would take a cybernetic calibration for better sight in complete darkness, something that Alcade haven't acknowledge
The servitor turns the light, and the armory erupts in disappointed sighs, though some of Juno's sons, Juno included, are still present enough to see the bout.
Something about a black sun, is that said star was too cold to emit radiation that was visible in spectrum, thus forcing life to adapt to those bare lighting. The planet Carcosa was terraformed enough to retain artificial heat, though the Dark Ages strip away the technology due to the harsh condition, plunging the inhabitants of the world no better than early centuries Terra. Thus, the primitive's sight evolved better in complete darkness, rather than the inhuman ability to merely adopt to it.
This become apparent when the primitive easily dodged Alcade's sword, the electricity it emits causes it to become visible to the primitive. In the viewers of the bout, Alcade was swinging at the air, hoping to hit the primitive.
The primitive retaliates by grazing the back of his knees, he knew that the armor was too thick to cut or pierce, thus he maneuvers easily between his feet. Graze as much as he wants, Alcade's anatomy meant that he can easily take the brunt of this barrage, at the cost of his movement. After the barrage, he can only stand there, unable to sidestep or lunge forward. His grip doubled on the sword, as both of his hands reach the handle.
"Yield"
"Never to a runt like you" his only response was
Thus the primitive charge, his abilities with the knife mimics that of a short sword, as he kept it close to his side while pointing at his direction. Knowing that the primitive will charge right into his front, Alcade swung his sword from his right side to his left, expecting the primitive to dodge. When the primitive did dodge, he swung his left fist to his direction, painfully connecting to primitive's right arm, which shatters his arm and made him drop his weapon.
The bout has ended, or so Alcade thought, before the primitive's act of defiance made him grip the knife with his left hand, and with the last remnant of his right arm he hook his entire body to Alcade's left arm. The knife met Alcade's skin on his neck, barely nipping but enough to draw blood before it evaporates and quickly closes.
"That's enough" calls Juno, forcing the servitor to light the room for the others to see. The primitive's swollen arm, as well as his body hugging Alcade's arm, before seeing that the primitive had enough edge to force Alcade to stop his right arm from ripping him apart
"I see you lost, Alcade" shout a member of the crowd "this is why he never rose to prominence" another murmur
The primitive lie down on the floor, his chest heaving rapidly as he let his broken arm flail and let blood trickle down. The medical servitor intend to get him back to the medical bay, before Juno stops them as he approach him.
"Repair your armor, Alcade, you receive almost no damage after all" aside from the cut at the back of his knee, his ability to quickly close wounds can dismiss that entirely "What is your name, primitive?"
The primitive crooks his mouth, enough to form a grin that Alcade would hate forever, as he stares at Juno "Caesar, my Lady"
And though Juno is the embodiment of mankind's perfection, she too, is unable to dodge mankind's basic instinct, as her cheeks rose up, something about being referred as his lady awakens something in her. It wasn't a waste to tutor him after all
"You should be proud" she lets her finger stammers in place as she tries to pick him up, his adoptive father Konnor never taught her how to maneuver with this feelings, much less her biological father
"And I am, my Lady" and another of that, her whole face heats up, as if the temperature of the room rose significantly too.
There is no way a primitive, no, Caesar, could easily woo her by barely beating her most mediocre son and let out a flirtatious grin. No way in Warp was this enough to make her fall for him too. Absolutely no way