“Pick one of the weapons inside, and you'll be a warrior." Guardmaster Harian stood with his thick arms folded over the embroidered livery on his tabard. “Pick your feet up and put’em down, boy.” He was frowning at Broin Ven’Maerl, the candlemaker’s son. “I’ve no time for dawdling.”
“Yessir.”
Paidrag leaned out from his position last in line and watched Broin duck a halfhearted cuff from the Guardmaster and hurry through the armory door. A moment later, he called out to the Guardmaster, his voice muffled by the stone wall.
“Something’s holding this sword, sir. Won’t budge.”
Guardmaster Harian tilted his face to the ceiling and heaved a great sigh. “If you can not lift the blade, it is not for you. Choose another.”
Sullen silence followed, and a few minutes later, Broin emerged from the armory holding a polished steel Warhammer. Guardmaster Harian stopped him with an outstretched hand, examined the weapon, looked the boy over, grunted, and motioned for Broin to keep moving. “Report to the Proving Ground.”
Paidrag watched the other three boys in front of him all enter the armory one after another and emerge with their chosen weapons held awkwardly in hands lacking the callouses to wield them. They were grinning proudly. And why shouldn’t they? The Guardmaster went through the same ritual with these three as he had with Broin, inspecting their weapons and looking them over, his face impassive. He then waved them away. “Get you to the Proving Ground.”
There was one boy left in front of Paidrag—the shoemaker’s son. Harian called the lad forward, and Paidrag’s mind turned inward.
Which weapon would he choose when it was his turn? Not a bow; that was not the warrior way. Last year, his brother picked a fine-looking blade of folded steel honed on both sides to a razor edge with a leather-wrapped hilt and cross guard fashioned to resemble two claws. Paidrag had tried Jarrod’s blade, but it felt awkward and unwieldy in his hand; a sword was not the weapon for him. What then? He was a fair hand with a quarterstaff, more than fair; he’d won the games earlier this year in the weapons category. Youngest to ever take the top spot in Keep history.
“Come on, boy,” Guardmaster Harian’s deep growl broke into Paidrag’s thoughts. His great red beard bobbed as he spoke. “Haven’t got all night for you to stand there like a simpleton. Wife has supper waiting, and I need to get to it. Move.”
Paidrag felt his cheeks flush and heard snickers from the nobles and wealthy merchants gathered within the Keep’s armory to witness the once-a-year Quendling when each boy from the lower villages would choose his weapon and become a man, a warrior in training.
He swallowed and stepped forward, looking at the arrogant faces of men dressed in silks and satins worth more than he’d earn in a lifetime. But they didn’t matter. His heart pounded. Sweat beaded his brow. This was his moment.
He stepped through the door.
Inside, shelf after empty shelf covered the stone walls. Footprints made crazed patterns in the dust on the floor, and the only weapons in sight rested on an ornate emberwood rack traced in ivory and gold.
Seeing nothing else, he shuffled over to the rack and felt his eyes drawn past an exquisitely crafted sword with a jeweled handle, past a handsome spear carved to look like a red dragon, to a weapon the likes of which he’d never seen before. He reached out with a trembling hand and laid a finger on the long handle, polished until it gleamed warmly in the torchlight. It looked like a quarterstaff, carved with mighty griffons in silver and boasting leather to strengthen his grip. But this was no ordinary quarterstaff. A foot of fine steel glinted from one end, a blade slightly curved and engraved with fancy scrollwork. A blade that, when he touched it, left a hair-fine line of red weeping from his thumb.
Paidrag yelped and yanked his thumb away, lifting the cut to his lips, his brows rising at such a sharp edge. Then he grinned.
He lifted it from the rack with trembling hands and gave it a gentle spin, slow and careful at first but putting on speed as he went until it whirred in a blur through the air. He worked the bladed staff around the back and over his head, made a figure eight in front of him, grinning in surprise at how perfectly balanced it was, like no steel graced the end.
The staff whirled to a rest at his side, the blade pointed at the ceiling. An odd feeling came over him just then, warm and brotherly, a sense of acceptance. Almost as if the weapon itself approved of him. He shook it off and made his way out of the armory.
Guardmaster Harian’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when he caught sight of the bladed staff resting on Paidrag’s shoulder. He recovered quickly.
“Hold there, lad,” the Guardmaster said, moving forward and extending a muscled arm to bar Paidrag’s way. “Auscheral chose you?”
Paidrag stopped. He glanced at his new staff. “You mean this?” he said, gesturing at the weapon.
“Aye.” Harian eyed the bladed staff with a mixture of reverence and surprise. “Weapons forged of magic have a mind of their own. They choose the hand to wield them. None have bonded in all the years I’ve been a guard here, nor in the days of my father and his father before him. That's why Broin couldn't lift the sword.”
Paidrag felt a stir of fear in his gut. Why was everyone so quiet? Why were they staring at him? He recognized the look staining their faces. Fear.
In Paidrag’s experience it wasn’t good to make men with title afraid.
“Fetch him to the Sage,” he heard someone say. And the next hour was a whirlwind of faces, questions and hands shoving him down winding corridors deep into the Keep and to a room lit by a single candlestick on a polished desk. Books filled the shelves built into the walls from the floor to the ceiling save where a stone hearth glowed red with sputtering embers. An old man sat there swaddled in deep purple robes with a ring of fine wispy white hair on the back of his head. His face was beyond ancient, spotted, deeply lined and paper thin, but his eyes reflected the candle’s fire and showed the vitality of the spirit within.
The Sage peered at him with those fathomless eyes. “Sit,” he said, and Paidrag found himself sitting in a rather uncomfortable wooden chair on his side of the desk but didn’t recall actually moving. He suppressed a yawn with the back of his hand. His eyes felt itchy.
“Yes,” the Sage said, taking Paidrag’s chin in skeletal fingers and looking into his eyes. “There is power here, a well vast and deep, but your future is uncertain.” His bushy white brows drew together. “Clouded. I cannot see the infinite lattice of your destiny. Yet, power churns around you like a sea in a storm.”
The Sage released his chin and sat back, regarding him with an unreadable expression. Paidrag didn’t like this conversation almost as much as he disliked the two hulking guards posted to either side of the chamber’s door.
The old man stirred from his thoughts. He drew out his pipe, stuffed the bowl with tabac, muttered a word Paidrag did not understand and it burst alight. “Such potential,” the Sage muttered in a voice soft as silk. “Could it be? After all these years…”
The Sage fell silent, puffing on his pipe and staring at Paidrag until the boy fidgeted in his seat. Then, the old man’s eyes refocused, sharp as dagger points. He leaned forward and spoke through the coiling smoke.
“Who are you?”
Paidrag opened his mouth to answer but the Sage cut him short.
“They fear you, fear what it means that a weapon chose you.” His eyes glittered with mischief. “They are right to fear.”

About me; Married dad, home repair career, moved across country 2 years ago.
I don't expect many views here, I know I'm just whining, and I know I'm not the only one feeling like I'm feeling. But, I'm just tired. I want to be back home. I hate my career choice/ path. I'm so overwhelmed.
Most recently, I switched from an easy, cushy, maintenacen supervisor position that was 2 minutes from home, to a handyman start up that needed a decent guy to help grow the business. I was urged to do so by a family member, I'm 2 days in and I realize I fucked up. I'm so fucking overwhelmed because the woman who owns the business is taking on jobs that are way too big IMO. Since before I officially came on, I have been following behind a fixing fuck ups that one of the other guys has done. I don't know why, but despite having done this work for 16 years, I suddenly have 0 confidence in what I'm doing. I feel like I'm fucking stuff up, despite getting calls to the owner about how happy they are with that I've done.
I've got a stupid ass tear in my eye right now from frustration. I want to just find a job that I can completely disconnect from at the end of everyday. Which is easy for everyone else(it seems), but I constantly run though every single thing that I worked on during the work day. I cannot disconnect, when my daughter reads to me at home, I cannot focus on that because I'm stuck in my head thinking about how frustrated I was at one second during the day, or I'm thinking about how I could have done something better, or how I need to go back and do something else because I didn't think it was up to my standards. I'm a perfectionist for alot of things.
I should have just stayed at my old job, I think to myself. But that wouldn't help me because all though the job was easy, I was the supervisor in charge of 3 properties and my mind would never let me have a second off. Thinking about things that need to be done, things that may happen in the future, things that would most likely never happen. "Don't take that home with you" My manager and my tech would say.. fucking easy to say. I was on call, and when I wasn't on call, I was on call because the tech would need assistance alot of the times. My mind doesn't just shut off work, especially being in this line of work where I feel like I have to please everyone. I've never heard of a complaint of my work, but In my head, noone likes the stuff I provide.
I couldn't take a vacation because All of my saved up pto this year was going to go toward 2 weddings and helping someone move from a few states away. I probably could have dealt with my last job if I had taken a break for myself. Maybe. I couldn't take any time off between jobs because I have to provide for my family. My wife works for money part time at home, but she works 24/7 homeschooling our daughter and housekeeping. True saint of a woman, who I love more than anything. Her getting a full time job isn't an option because we aren't comforatble putting our daughter into the public school near us after a sick fucking pervert teacher kissed her and other kids.
Well, I'll end this with who knows of a job that a non college educated person can switch to that pays 65000 a year atleast and that is easy to not bring home? I'm desperate

What it was like, what happened, and what it is like now... My sobriety date is January 10th, 2016. I had been coming in and out of the program of AA since I was 18 years old, I had a drawer full of white chips, and it wasn't until I was 33 years old that I had finally been beaten down enough and suffered enough consequences due to this disease that I was finally ready to surrender... not because I had any hope that things would get better, but because I was frightened of how they were on their way to getting worse.
I was finally ready to follow through in working all 12 steps with my sponsor, which I did over the course of a year. I moved onto a new sponsor, and worked them through again. I was hungry for this new life and I sought out the oldest of the old timers, women who had more years in sobriety than I had on this earth. I was desperate for change because I was faced with two choices: change, or face a life without my two precious children that had been wisely removed by the court and my ex-husband because of how I'd let this disease impact our lives like a category five hurricane. I learned quickly that it simply wasn't enough that my admission of powerless and taking of the first three steps stopped the proverbial winds of destruction from blowing; like a devastated city by the sea in the aftermath, I had a job of reconstruction ahead of me that wasn't going to be cleaned up over night... it was going to be a process of years before everything would come back together, and be restored to something better than I could have ever dreamed.
What I ended up discovering through the years of consistently working this program wasn't at all what I'd originally sought out. I just wanted the chaos to stop. I just wanted to be able to put down the bottle for good. I thought this was the alpha and omega of it. But this was just the barest beginning.
The cessation of drinking was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. This program would do more than just divorce me from alcohol and substance abuse... it was going to completely transform me. Little by slowly, the working of the steps began to reshape my perspective as I had to accept a spiritual remedy or return to my own spiral of misery and the onward march to jails, institutions, and death.
Through the working of my inventory, my sponsors helped me to see that everything I resentfully blamed on my ex-husband, my abusive upbringing, my traumatic brain injury in early childhood, everyone who'd ever bullied or abused me had layers. Resentment would poison me; I had to forgive those against whom I harbored resentment not for their sake, but my own. Forgiveness, I discovered, set me free from this self-created prison. Letting go meant a greater freedom than I could have ever known.
And then, further on: most things I blamed on God for allowing to happen to happen to me, such as the loss of my precious children, my sponsors helped me to understand through my inventory were traceable back through so many actions I willfully chose that had a domino effect of consequences that I now had to face and accept as my responsibility. Whether or not other people were involved, I had to let this go, learning a new meaning of powerlessness and acceptance of things I could not change... namely, other people and their own actions... and focused on the only thing I could change: my own choices, moving forward. Understanding that the only way out was through. Bless them, change me wasn't just a catchphrase any longer... I was the only one over whom I had control. When I finally came to this realization, I was able to work through my own defects, see them for what they were, rise into the 6th and 7th steps to pray for their removal, to be taken to something better.
I was then able to identify and accept what "my part" had been in two decades of wrecked relationships with others. I was able to understand to whom I must make amends, and found the genuine willingness to do so, a long list made, a scouring of the internet and social media and looking up all the people upon whose lives I'd had a negative impact, people whom I had hurt. I owned my part, I made the amends and I was surprised at the response I got, overwhelmingly.... not one person told me to go to hell like I rightfully would have deserved, and none of them even expressed anger. Each of them shared with me in their own way how they knew I was very sick, very lost, and they knew inside somewhere I was a good person, I was just hurting and how they had always hoped that I would find recovery, find God, find a way to be who I was. They were happy for me. They had forgiven me long ago.
And as a result of working these steps, persisting through consequences I had to face and accept, finding that the only way out was through... my life was transformed. I was transformed. I got my children back... not instantly, but I began my journey in 2016 and by 2017, I had them back on weekends. By 2018, I had them back in a 50/50 arrangement. And by 2019, circumstances aligned so that they were returned to me full-time, and this was also the year the man who'd stuck by me during the worst moments of my disease and through the ups and downs of early sobriety asked me to marry him, and my girls and I had a whole new family, a whole new life... today, he is the man they call "Dad" and they have their biological father every weekend whom they call "Papa." He, too, has found recovery and is growing into a better life, he dated a great woman who adored my daughters in the same way my new husband has and he is marrying her this summer. As a show of love, she gave each of my daughters a special ring to symbolize her own commitment to them in how much she values the importance. We're now working together as a united front and a blended family for what's best for the girls and it is a blessing.
It has been a challenge, honestly, now that things have gotten better and the promises have come true to stick with a consistent practice of this program. Complacency is probably my biggest struggle, something I continually work on because it is so easy now to let all of the blessings of this program consume my life and cause the program not to take a first place priority. The reality is what it is though: if I forget where I come from, if I rest on my proverbial laurels, I will absolutely lose everything that I've gained and I will end up drunk. I am finding that it was ironically much easier to work the program diligently when I was at rock bottom and this was the only way to climb out.
As such, I know that today, my actions still have consequences, good and bad. Sometimes, as before, the consequences might not show up immediately, but they will always manifest. Fortunately, though, through the working of this program, especially in the initial few years of working through the steps and my inventory, I find that I am making more positive choices than I did once upon a time, and so just as I reaped what I had sewn early on in terms of negative consequences, I now find the same thing is true insomuch as I enjoy positive consequences perhaps to the same degree that I once experienced negative ones. The most solid part of all is the gift that the 12th step provides, practicing these principles in all my affairs, as well as Step 10 that I try my best to keep up with regularly, I am able now to much more quickly identify when I have made a wrong choice, when a resentment crops up, or when I owe someone an amends. It is just like keeping a house clean in a literal sense: doing small things each day maintains a level of consistent cleanliness that is much easier to maintain than letting things get messy and piled up and trying to go in and clean.
And most importantly of all.... when I came into this program, I reached for God and striving for the next right thing because it was either this, or worse consequences than I was already facing. As one day at a time began to flow into weeks, then months, then years, I found myself reaching for God and striving for the next right thing because I was seeing how it was bearing the fruit of my whole life improving. And now, as I am moving toward my 9th year of sobriety, so close to an actual decade... I have never forgotten these former two stages of my own evolution, which have merged into where I find myself now... reaching for God and striving for the next right thing, as it is written, "as unto Him", because I am in a new habit now of right living, right choosing, being a kind of active faith in which I know that, as a line in one of the devotional books said, "When we do the next right thing, all the power of God is behind you."
I can make these choices today especially in my classroom in devoting myself to my occupation as a labor of love, and this in and of itself being its own reward. I was nominated for "Teacher of the Year" this year, but I knew from this moment that it wasn't going to be God's will for me to receive such an accolade and I was perfectly at peace with this. Because doing the right thing as unto God for me today rests on a foundation of just how important anonymity is, in a way I never appreciated until recently. I think of the founders of AA, how Bill W. was offered an honorary PhD in Sociology from Harvard (I think this was he area), how they wanted to erect a huge monument over Dr. Bob and his wife's grave to mark them as founders... I can scarcely imagine how tempting these opportunities would have been, especially when we all have that ego part of ourselves that whispers, "I have worked hard for this and I deserve to be recoginzed!" But they turned these offers down, as so many others that came and went. Anonymity was and still is everything.
My oldest old timer sponsor--the one with more years sober than i had alive-- had to really work hard to make me see something I was stuck in around years 4-6: "I have worked SO HARD to get to where I am today!"
She told me over and over that I was missing the point: I made choices to do the next right thing, but I was incapable of getting myself anywhere but drunk on my own unaided will. It was God who you allowed to work through you.
I understand that a lot more today. I am proud of a strength I possess to be industrious. But "I" don't matter. I do my best to do the next right things because what really only matters is that God sees what I do. Through any talents, abilities, strengths He has given me, they are from Him, and they make me useful as a vessel to be of service. I am a sewer of seeds, and I may never know how my willingness to be of service impacts someone, but He does. My own anonymity protects me from me.
Of myself I am nothing, it is only through the grace of God and this program that I am where I am today. I ask daily in prayer to for Him to get me out of my way, to be made of service, for Him to show me the next right thing one moment at a time, and the power to carry that out.
And this is all that matters.

This song has become a well loved track for me. DYWTYLM is a track that sounds the most poppie compared to the rest of their catalog. One of the reasons that I love this song is because it really gives that main character euphoria. I live in a major US City and rely on public transit. That means I walk A LOT. The walk-ability of this song is top tier. The way the beat goes is always right in time with my foot meeting the pavement as I walk through the big city. Aside from the feel of the song the lyrics, as per usual, are a treat to dissect.
Within the Lore of Sleep Token I choose rest my head on an acquired understanding that Sleep is just a personification of Mental/Emotional states of being/the Self and Death. Thus is the framework of which I consume this musical offerings. The songs structure (from out understanding) as encounters with Vessel and Sleep, making the lyrics very conversational even if only one sided at times. In this song ,however, it seems almost more to be breaking that third wall in addition to its tie to the sleep lore. The more I listen to this track the more I feel like I am getting a little peak into a more pointed aspect of the mental continuum of the man behind the mask; a insecurity perhaps? Behold my theory fellow worshipers...

1. Energy is shared and never ending. Everything that makes up the stars in the sky also makes up us. Many spiritualists adopt the understanding that we are simply the universe experiencing itself over and over in different incarnations. We are each other. I am it and it is me, a philosophy I think it is safe to say that Sleep Token shares. In 2017 the band even released a single line response on social media in res posting to an article that within its headline asked (possibly paraphrasing) "What and Who the Hell are Sleep Token?" To which the band responded "We are YOU" All this to say that any relationship or battle or communication with sleep is, to me, often just directed towards the darker facets of the artist himself. Additionally it is about creating a community that can dine in darkness together.
2. So why would I suspect that a fourth wall is broken? The perspective that I am viewing this song in lends itself to that suspension though the song still works regardless of POV. Either this song is reference towards a specific person or conversation or its directed at fans or both. DYWTYLM has come off of the most recent album Take Me Back To Eden. At this point the band has gained some following though it seems it didn't really explode until around the time of the albums release when the summoning blew up on social media. Regardless, when you have the talent that Sleep Token has, a large fan base is inevitable. I can imagine going from being relatively unknown to having strangers shout that they love you can be a heavy experience especially if one already struggles with self Image. To me, this song comes from the headspace of someone being interested in you in some way and wanting to build some sort of relationship with you, wanting to invest themselves in you. Despite this person saying how much they want you in their life, you feel like you should come with a warning label. I feel that's whats happening here. the question DYWTYLM is a interesting one because the inflection of that question is what can easily change the perspective. I view that question with a tone of disbelief and sense of "..but why?"

"Do you roll with the waves? or do you duck into deep blue safety? Is is always the same? DYWTYLM? Do you pull out the chains? or Do you push into constant aching each and every day? DYWTYLM?"
To me its as if someone has told him that they love him and that they want him to have a bigger role in their life in whatever regards the relationship is to. Friend, Lover whomever. He is trying to deter this person from getting to close. essentially it is say "My responses to negative stimulus is either on one side of the spectrum or the complete other side of the spectrum." Perhaps he is saying "I may be a bueden to you." As if to warn "I am too broken for you." If you look at the entirety of this song like this, you can see it easily. All of the questions seem posed as if/then, this or that. When he says DYWTYLM, is he really saying"You may wish that you loved me but behold, here is all the lists of the reasons we wont work out cause I am too complicated and mentaly ill. So, after all that, do you still want me? Do You Wish That You Loved me?"
Another reason I suspect that this song could be directed at fans is because of the in between parts toward the end of the song. During a interview style version of one of vessels messages he had said (again, paraphrasing)"I only see them smiling...I want them to smile" and during the end of the song you hear him sing "smile back.....at me..."
The band has always wanted it to be about the music. These are smart lads though, I am sure they expected and bit of a following from ....Hungry Eyes...if you will.... Perhaps this song gently address "hey, you think im desirable? If you really knew me..if you knew the man behind the mask..,maybe you would change your mind."
During the course of the song he also addresses "my reflecion wont smile back at me like I know it should and I would turn into a stranger in a minute if I could. There is something eating me alive I dont know what it is...."
He doesnt seem to like himself very much in the first place. Introspectively, The artist understands that sometimes there is a blind spot to see greatness within ones self. When he says he wished he could be a stranger it could be that he wishes he were able to look at himself more objectivly and not be weighed down by any preconceived notions or lies he has told himself. To say he doesn't know what is eating him alive it sounds like he is struggling with depression or some other mental/emotional health concern.
He goes on to say "I cannot hope to give you what I cannot give myself" This is powerful because its like he has been offered a way out of his lonleyness, out of some of the darkness but has refused it because he wont do it at the expense of anyone else. He is compassionate.
In summary I feel that the track DYWTYLM is about questioning what someone sees in you, and/or wanting to protect somone from yourself. I get a sense that this narrative is something that is perhaps a less metaphorical aspect and more a confession of something real that the lead singer has dealth with before.
So what do you think? Have you had similar thoughts? How do you feel it relates to the Sleep lore? There are probably as many variations of interpretation as there are Sleep Token Worshipers. Aside from whatever is truley cannon in Vessles mind, there is no right or wrong answers or interpretations. If something resonated with you then you explore that path and if it didnt thats okay too.
-Byte

I had some ideas and started booking this out. But I lost some and it is not a passion. So I am just going to give my quick idea outline instead of the more in depth monthly breakdown.
Hogan needs to get in line with losing a match to Flair. I still run a 3 match series. Hogan wins 1 and 3. Run the full injury angle on match 2 (See Sting and Rude from a few years before).
Flair will defend the title at WrestleWar against G1 Climax winner Mashiro Chono.
Hogan needs some non-Flair opponents. I will The Boss, Big Ray Traylor become the #1 contender. Traylor will be the Starrcade opponent. Sting (and Vader) will help establish Traylor along the way.
Austin (US) and Regal (TV) will establish their bona fides as singles competitors. Vader will have a feud with Cactus (if we can get him to stay).
Austin will join a reformed Horsemen (with Sherri as manager). Tully earns a spot back against Funk, if he can smooth things over with Arn. Arn and Tully add to tag team depth, as the roster needs to add some talent.
Harley Race takes on Paul Levesque as a protege, and maybe he will stay.
Bobby Eaton and Steve Keirn (Bad Attitude) will be managed by Col Parker. They need some help on interviews, bu5 are great in the ring.
I see Teddy Long coming back to manage Ron Simmoms and Harlem Heat. He is too entertaining to not help Simmons get over and help guide Harlem Heat.
If Catucs and Funk can be kept around, I plan to have a loose collection of loose cannons with Pillman as well. Any can be lone wolf if others do not stick around.
Dustin Rhodes will be fighting for TV and US titles. Steamboat is still around getting great matches out of many opponents. Trying to build Patriot and Bagwell as a face team. The Armstrongs too with a manager (Dusty or Bullet Bob). Not confident in that.
Hogan will eventually drop title to Vader in 1995. Sting, and then Austin are the planned future champs. I will be bringing in Steiners in Dec 1994 or as soon as I can, as the best tag team ever. Flair and Hogan can be slid away from Title as feud and special attraction types. (All over Randy Savage if he comes available).
Nit as good as a gill booking and storyline. But wanted to give the overall plan.

Tuesday, May 21 Good morning! Today's Morning Brief is all about strategists revising their 2024 year-end predictions. Nasdaq record highs: The Nasdaq rose 0.65% to a record close as the S&P 500 gained 0.1% Monday. The week's optimism came on the back of a few revised S&P 500 year-end calls (see both today's Takeaway and the Chart of the Day!). ‌
JPMorgan's succession story: JPMorgan CEO Jamie Dimon noted that his retirement was both closer than "five years away," his standard stock answer over the years, and that a succession plan was "well on the way." Talk of the CEO's departure moved the stock down 4.5%, despite the bank's good news: It revised its 2024 revenue expectations higher due to two potential rate cuts. The cuts would increase its net interest margin, a key banking metric marking the difference between what banks pay for deposits and what they make from them. ‌ Microsoft's new vision for AI: Microsoft announced its "Copilot+ PCs" on Monday, giving the world a look at how the most valuable company in the world plans to integrate its AI capabilities into consumer computers — capabilities that it hopes will reignite the PC market. Using specialized chips on the devices (no need for cloud processing), the ChatGPT-4o-based system assists users by seeing and analyzing what's already on the screen, integrating a key communication step. The software will be on Surface tablets as well as PCs from the usual suspects: Acer, ASUS, Dell, HP, Lenovo, and Samsung. The stock rose 1.2% Monday. ‌ 'A good position to hold steady': Monday's round of Fedspeak had Fed Vice Chair Philip Jefferson and Fed Vice Chair for Supervision Michael Barr concurring with a suite of their peers who have reiterated their wait-and-see approach to rates. One month of encouraging data isn't enough for them, and as Fed Chair Jerome Powell said last week, three months might be better. ‌
Rising metal prices: Gold and copper hit records Monday as silver hit a 12-year high. Gold has been on a roll of late thanks to demand from central banks and potential Fed rate cuts. And copper, as a non-precious metal, has seen its value spike due to higher demand from machinery and wiring applications. Another picks-and-shovels AI trade, perhaps. What we're watching Morning Brief is written and edited by Ethan Wolff-Mann. For the web version, click here. Follow all the action throughout the day on Yahoo Finance and on the Yahoo Finance app.
Taylor Swift's economic boost is traveling from the US to Europe. ‌ Amid uncertainty around Social Security, here's what financial advisers are telling clients. ‌ Audi furthers EV push into China with new platform agreement.‌ Housing experts revise mortgage rate forecasts for remainder of 2024. ‌ Secondhand Rolex sales surge in 'underdeveloped' US market. ‌ Wall Street's biggest bear flips, raises S&P 500 price target by 20%. What we're reading
Today's Takeaway is by Myles Udland, Head of News. ‌ One of the most notable bears on Wall Street finally flipped this week. Morgan Stanley's Mike Wilson raised his price target for the S&P 500 over the next 12 months to 5,400 from 4,500, a 20% jump amid a market Wilson sees defined by "higher than normal uncertainty." Josh Schafer has more on Wilson's call here. ‌ And in his report, Wilson included a chart that serves as a note of caution to stock market bulls looking for lower rates to power the next leg of this rally. ‌ "[There] is a wide array of return outcomes across history following the start of the cutting cycle," Wilson wrote. ‌ "In many ways, this analysis encapsulates our outlook well — a balanced risk/reward profile in the average/base line view, but the potential for a wide array of scenarios to play out. Once again, get ready for some notable swings in sentiment, positioning and prices."
Interest rate cuts have a complicated history with the stock market The S&P 500's average annual return is around 10%, making the 12-month returns that follow rate cuts, on average, well below this bogey. And with the exceptions of 1974, 1989, and 2019, year-ahead returns for the S&P 500 after rate cuts have typically been well outside this historical average both high and low. ‌ All else equal, lower interest rates benefit riskier assets like stocks, bringing down the return hurdle that makes stocks preferable to something like fixed income. ‌ What Wilson's data reminds us, however, is that rate cuts aren't something the Federal Reserve typically does "just because." ‌ Even the winning years in Wilson's chart are reminders of precarious moments in financial market history — the 1994 bond market crash gave rise to James Carville's famous complaints about "bond vigilantes," and 1998's emerging market crisis and collapse of LTCM forced the Fed to take drastic action to save a single hedge fund. ‌
Go back 18 months and Wall Street expected a recession to prompt rate cuts. Today, the Fed is looking for "greater confidence that inflation is moving down sustainably toward 2%" as the catalyst to lower rates. ‌ Last year's view on rate cuts was in line with history: A negative shock prompts the Fed to move. The current view is anomalous. ‌ Though as Wilson notes, in the current market, what else would you expect? ‌ "The last couple of months have been a microcosm in this respect as economic growth data have once again cooled after a period of strength, while inflation data have been bumpy," Wilson wrote. ‌ "In short, macro outcomes have become increasingly hard to predict as data have become more volatile. We see this environment persisting." The Wall Street consensus for the S&P 500 has been shifting, with three strategists boosting their outlook for the benchmark index. Let's round up the latest changes. ‌ ‌ ‌
Chart of the day BMO Capital Market's chief investment strategist Brian Belski boosted his year-end target to 5,600 from 5,100, noting that momentum in the market is "likely to persist." On Friday, Deutsche Bank chief equity strategist Binky Chadha boosted his year-end target for the benchmark to 5,500 from 5,100, noting robust earnings growth and an improving macroeconomic consensus. Then, on Sunday, one of the biggest bears on Wall Street over the past year joined the crowd. Morgan Stanley chief investment officer Mike Wilson now sees the S&P 500 hitting 5,400 in the next 12 months, up from his prior call that the index would fall to 4,500, driven by solid earnings growth.
As Myles writes in the Takeaway, there are notes of caution in Wilson's "bullish" call. Macro consensus has become "increasingly hard to predict" in the current environment, with the market shifting back and forth between a "soft landing" and "no landing" base case. Investors, he wrote, should be "ready for more rotations." ‌ But as our chart of the day shows, with Wilson no longer calling for a market decline, few on Wall Street see any further "rotations" sending stocks sinking to end the year. ‌ And to JPMorgan ... we are waiting patiently. ‌ — Josh Schafer, Markets Reporter

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[Chapter 1] ; [Previous Chapter] ; [Discord + Wiki] ; [Patreon]
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Chapter 168 – The moment to live and the moment to die
​
„Jumping!“ an Ensign announced loudly as the Sun's view-windows very briefly flickered into a dark black only to go back to a full view of the ongoing battle basically instantly, having barely shifted the ship's position at incomprehensible speed. „Shot clear of allied ships.“
Vice-Admiral Kazadi tapped his finger on one of the armrests of the Commander's seat that still felt anything but comfortable for him to sit in as the tight grid of flashing lights reflected in his eyes within the twilight of the bridge.
“Fire,” he then ordered. Not even a blink later, a burst of colorful light broke into his view from the side of his very own ship, lighting up the entirety of the bridge even through the automatically tinting windows that absorbed a lot of the harmful light so the crew wouldn't flashbang themselves with each shot.
The relativity canon fire tore through the enemy ship at an almost literal instant with any travel time barely being conceivable to a mortal mind. In a large unload of energy that left almost the entire stern-side of the zodiatos ship as a molten mass of dispersing slag, the main propulsion was taken out. Simultaneously, the two accompanying cruisers had also taken their shots; with the 'Civil' taking out the engine of one more enemy vessel while the 'of the roses' had instead used its shot to disperse one of the enemy projectiles in order to buy their own hunter ships more freedom of movement. Those huge ones didn't go down easy from one of the hunters' smaller shots, so using one of the large canons to dispatch it took some of the heat off them.
Meanwhile, smaller targets on the enemy vessels, such as their own canons, were gradually taken out by said hunters, whose own fire – while able to be quite destructive if intended no doubt – could be used in a far more precise manner. With more and more of their canons failing, the protective volleys the coreworld terrorists could fire to hide themselves away also became less and less effective.
“Send the fallback-beacon,” Kazadi then ordered, since close quarter attacks became less and less necessary.
It seemed that the zodiatos had a hard time adjusting to the combat style of the human unkindnesses, however that didn't mean they should take any unnecessary risks. Even if a pilot could've been able to avoid all enemy attacks in a perfect world, he knew that his pilots were only human.
Casualties of their own had been comparatively minimal so far, however as if to prove him right about his thoughts, he could see on his surveillance screen how, just in that moment, one of their ships was taken out by an enemy craft.
He grimaced to himself and let out a mild sigh. One more family who would never see one of their own again...
It took a moment before all the ships were reached by the beacon. Due to the nature of their own combat strategies, as well as the particular nature of hyperspace, it was entirely impossible to effectively contact any of their ships directly while they were out in the battle. Therefore, the order to fall back had to be broadcast as a general signal, that each of the pilots could individually pick up as soon as they would keep still for long enough so that it could reach them.
By now, the battle was already won. None of the zodiatos' weapons were able to match the relativity canons in effective range and without the larger ships to back them up, their small hunters wouldn't be able to launch an offensive – shields or not. They could just stay back and fire until surrender now. As the signal was picked up, one of their ships after another disappeared in one last flash of hyperspace as they joined back up with the larger vessels in an enclosing formation.
“Prepare for the retrieval of some of those projectiles,” the Vice-Admiral then ordered as he hoped they would be able to track some of those spent shots their enemies had fired. They would have to figure out what kind of tech that was.
In such a small-scale conflict, it was more than manageable to face it. However, it could offer some difficulties in larger fleets – especially since they didn't know how far this kind of tech could possible be expanded and refined. It was quite possible this was just some form of prototype.
While that order was followed, one of his Lieutenants suddenly spoke up.
“Sir, we have an incoming transmission from the planet. Civilian. Not encrypted, but they seemingly had an access code,” they related quickly.
“Is the earlier interference cleared up?” he immediately asked back, to which the answer was positive. “Put it through then,” he immediately ordered as soon as he heard that.
He rubbed one of his tight braids between his fingers as he waited for contact to be established. Once the line was clear, things remained quiet for a moment.
“What are we best at?” he then asked the silent line, his chest tightening ever so slightly, even if he didn't have to wait long for a reply.
“Topping from the bottom,” a very familiar voice replied from the other end, sounding incredibly strained but most certainly alive.
The code phrase was an old in-joke about something that had been said back during humanity's first contact with the tonamstrosites due to a slightly choppy translation. However, it more than sufficed here to tell Kazadi that the person on the other side of the line was not only genuine, but also not in any immediate distress – at least none that was brought onto her by someone else.
“Good to hear your voice Ma'am,” he greeted the Admiral after taking a brief moment to allow his heart to settle.
“The pleasure is all mine, Celestin,” Admiral Krieger replied in between heavy breaths that sounded like a combination between being ready to collapse and absolutely willing to tear anyone's throat out at a moment's notice. “Excuse me for the unorthodox contact, my own means of communication have all been destroyed. Update me.”
A brief smile played on the Vice-Admiral's lips.
“No problem, Ma'am. Things are under control up here, but multiple allied coluyvoree ships were destroyed and we suffered some casualties of our own which I will take full responsibility for,” he quickly complied. “By now, the enemy crafts have been largely disabled and our fighters are falling back. What's the situation on your end?”
There was a bit of a grunt from the other side of the line that seemed unrelated to the ongoing conversation.
“I'm sure you did everything by the books,” Krieger then replied a moment later. “Down here the situation is precarious but momentarily under control. We have an unconfirmed number of casualties after an attack with an unknown weapon. All squads are either KIA or unresponsive. We took down six enemy combatants but can't confirm if there's more. I'm going to need clean up, rescue teams, as well as pickup for me and two large offworlders asap.”
Celestin nodded.
“We're in a stable position, so we'll jump teams down right away. Hold out just a minute more,” he assured her while already signing in the necessary order to the troops they had on standby. “How bad are your injuries?”
There was another groan of pain from Krieger's side.
“Crushed cranberries,” she replied after a long moment that sounded like she needed to catch her breath.
“Copy that,” Kazadi replied with a grimace. “Sending muti-team with the evac.”
“Copy that,” Krieger confirmed. “Krieger out.”
With that, the call was hung up. On his screen, Celestin could see how the preparations for dispatch of the requested teams was already well underway. Jumping towards a planet at FTL was generally discouraged by the Galactic Community. However, this was an emergency. They couldn't wait for normal re-entry.
After watching the reported progress for just a moment, his eyes returned to the ongoing battle. He watched the enemy ships as they hovered dead in space, unable to maneuver.
They seemed to have recalled their own fighters back in order to form some sort of protective wall around the 'mother ships' with their own small shields. Obviously it wouldn't be very effective, so it seemed like needless cruelty to make their own soldiers get in the way of the incoming fire. Something within Kazadi told the Vice-Admiral they weren't going to stand down.
“Sir, we're getting some strange hyperspace-readings,” his Lieutenant suddenly announced, making him look up.
“Weapon-grade?” he immediately asked, knowing they had less than a moment to react if it was. However, he also figured there would've been more urgency to their voice had it been so.
“No, Sir. Travel-grade,” the Lieutenant quickly replied. “However the readings are unusual. It seems like they are creating a stretch solely around themselves.”
Kazadi's lips shifted a bit as he took that in and he briefly ran a hand over his mouth in thought. “Prepare to collapse,” he ordered. “Maybe they will attempt some sort of running start. We can't let them get away.”
Right then, the light of what was happening had not yet caught up to the spacial distortion that their sensors were detecting, meaning the ships still looked perfectly normal – if damaged – when he looked at them. However, they were planning something. And that made them appear all the more ominous.
His mind quickly went through their own protocols. The U.H.S.D.F. employed hyperspace in nearly all its possible facets in their tactics. If it was even close to sensible, they would have something that was akin to the maneuver their foes were attempting to execute right now.
A bubble of hyperspace solely around their ships...a dodge? Hardly, there was nothing to dodge like that. An attempt to hide away? No, they knew human ships could collapse hyperspace from the outside easily.
Before him, the windows of the ship once again automatically dimmed, protecting the crew's eyes as the colorful light of the created hyperspace-bubble finally reached them.
“Hyperspace collapsed!” the Lieutenant then suddenly announced, causing Kazadi to blink in surprise as his eyes shot up to his screen. He hadn't given any order to collapse it yet. But indeed, it was gone. For a moment, he thought that the stress had caused his officer to use the wrong term in haste, however no, they had been completely right. It had not been dispersed in a controlled manner. It had collapsed.
In a mild 'thud', the Vice-Admiral's fist descended on the armrest, hand firmly clenched into a fist.
“Those cowardly ba-” he began to growl but then bit his tongue and released a low, almost grunting exhale while his fist quivered from momentarily clenching tighter. “Prepare to search for survivors,” he instead said in a much more controlled manner a moment later. “Preserve lives.”
“Yessir,” multiple of his officers echoed back as he looked out of the window, where he could still see the ghostly afterimage of the hyperspace bubble linger for a bit longer. It was always a strange feeling, seeing someone in the distance who was already dead...
–
With her view darkened and her goggles momentarily pulled off her eyes, Shida stared at the glowing bubble of impossible colors. Her sensors had already told her what was about to happen at any moment now, however her eyes still heavily constricted as they finally witnessed what unfolded themselves.
In what could be described as nothing else than a 'snap' , the light of the hyperspace-stretch instantly condensed down into its original size as the universe all at once remembered that the laws of physics were a thing that existed and brutally forced space to conform to them once again – no matter what may have been in between it and its original form.
Anything within the strange, round stretch was mercilessly ripped along with the convulsion, forcing all the injected warships and fighters into the single, small point that the stretch had been generated from. Though not even a faction of a second later, it all exploded outwards again as the megatons of mass realized that they could not all exist in the same place at once, since the energy of the event was not quite potent enough to press it all into a neutron star or singularity.
No longer recognizable blotches of undefined, white-hot matter were instantly scattered in all directions like some sort of micro-supernova that accentuated the sometimes still burning nano-stars that the earlier battle had created from the opposing fighters.
It was almost pretty...but still, Shida couldn't help but let her ears hang as she wondered how many of the enemy combatants had known about the decision to end things this way. Had any of them even been asked?
Even if it was the far more disturbing answer in a way, Shida almost hoped that this had actually been one mutual suicide-pact instead of the decision of one single commander to choose death over dishonor. Especially while sitting in a ship that was technically under the command of someone else herself, that was certainly the less immediately petrifying option – even if it would probably spell far worse things in the long run.
As she said there, the 'shockwave' of the collapsing hyperspace suddenly hit her, spreading out through space even without any medium to carry it and rocking her ship gently while also penetrating all throughout her body. Of course the earlier relativity fire had already caused similar ripples and she was therefore quite used to the feeling, however these ones sure felt a bit more severe than those of the U.H.S.D.F.'s own canons. It was like she felt her own body distort while also remaining perfectly in palace – almost like she was a stiff container full of water that someone had given a heavy smack from the side, riling up the liquid without it actually having any place to plash to.
According to everything they knew, this phenomenon felt incredibly odd but was entirely harmless to living beings – which was instinctively very hard to believe when one felt it on their own body.
However, her dwelling thoughts were, perhaps luckily, interrupted as she – or more precisely one of her scanners - picked up on a peculiar signature that one of the scattered debris pieces was sending out.
Well, it was 'peculiar' to her that there was a signal at all at first, however then she quickly realized what it actually was. This particular signal was hammered into any pilot's head six ways to Sunday, and so she reacted relatively quickly when she glanced at the grid and realized that she was the closest ship to it. Firing up her engines, she turned her ship on the spot in a slight drift before activating her generator and making a jump right behind the flying object.
Once there, she allowed her computer to take aim for a second before firing out a harpoon that quickly struck the flying debris and latched her ship onto it through a long cable, allowing her to pull the thing along with her after slowly using her backwards thrusters to disperse its speed little by little. Pressing the indicator of her communication, she then spoke up.
“Scratches to Sun,” she announced. “I just recovered a black box. Permission to return for inspection?”
The black boxes of modern ships truly were among the most ridiculous pieces of tech out there, in Shida's humble opinion. Built to withstand almost everything that would likely take a ship out through a combination of brilliant engineering and extremely flexible material that only worked in its indented manner on very small scales. Well, very small compared to the ships they were built into. The things were about half the size of Shida in the end. For many years, armies of scientists had attempted their very best to make this same sort of defense useful in ways that could maybe be used to protect actual people from catastrophic events – but to no avail so far. For now, the only thing those little marvels could allow to survive even something as ludicrous as hyperspace collapsing was information.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant-Commander,” the answer came almost immediately. “Return to hangar three.”
“Copy,” Shida replied. “Scratches out.”
With that, she moved her ship around and prepared for her jump back to the Sun. Hopefully this thing would give them some answers on what exactly this whole thing was meant to accomplish...
–
Far away in another part of the galaxy, a pair of mildly glowing red eyes was laser-focused on a large screen that was just one of many that had merged all over Nedstaniot-Station to broadcast the breaking news to anyone willing to lift their eyes at a slight angle to look at them.
An attack on a coreworld. And not just any coreworld. Gewelitten itself. Something like this hadn't happened in...well, Curi didn't even know how long.
Details seemed to still be incredibly fuzzy as the battle so close to the coluyvoree homeworld had either just happened or was still happening at the moment of the broadcast, however what few details were known were already repeated on end in an endless scroll of text that was meant to catch as many people up to speed as was at all possible through the medium of television. Obviously the same emerging details could already be looked up on the net as well to find them in a more digestible format than the endlessly moving text next to the not exactly top quality footage of the occurring conflict.
However, despite the speed with which it went by, Curi had no problem following the scroll as they stared at the screen intensely.
“Attack was unannounced. Multiple Gewelitten fleet ships destroyed. Official sources confirm: Humanity NOT the aggressor. Attacking ships presumed to be of zodiatos origin. Unknown weapon technology deployed during the attack. U.H.S.D.F. ships engaged in combat after aggression. Myiat delegation ship confirmed unharmed. Attack on government facility on planet simultaneous to spacial attack. Councilman-Candidate Aldwin confirmed unharmed. Status of U.H.S.D.F. General Krieger unknown. Status of Gewelitten Governor H. Cierrophai unknown. Status of Acting-Councilman Afuéhner unknown. Allied coreworld defense fleets activated and inbound. General alert level raised to 8. Hyperspace-travel shut down around the system.”
“Mother, oh no...” Mueen said with absolute shock in his eyes, both of his hands clasped over this mouth as his wide pupils quivered in fear from what they witnessed.
Curi could understand his worry. Though Moar had supposedly been with James, so she would probably be fine. The cyborg was certainly more than just a little relieved that James was already confirmed to be safe. Though the idea that Admiral Krieger's situation was unknown was more than just a little disconcerting.
Though despite the supposed lack of their commanding officer, it seemed like the humans had decisively won out in the battle outside of the coreworld's atmosphere; unknown technology or not.
Given the sub-par footage that some drone was likely recording from quite far away from the actual conflict, it was very hard to tell just what sort of weapon the unknown but presumed to be zodiatos attackers had unleashed there. It looked like some sort of emanating energy that destroyed what it came into contact with but also interacted with it as if it had a physical presence.
Curi had never seen anything remotely like it before – not even in their wildest theories – and their mind immediately wanted to go wild with speculations and ideas about how such a thing might work now that they knew for a fact that it was possible from seeing it with their own eyes.
However, the cyborg pulled themselves together and successfully forced the briefly almost overwhelming desire to focus on nothing else down as they shifted their gaze slightly away from the screen to look over at their other currently nearby company.
Then again, as much as they knew they couldn't let their guard down around him, Reprig's eyes were just as immovably attached to the large screen as Mueen's were as he witnessed the unfolding battle with quivering horror.
His trunk was wiggling wildly in his face and one of his hands nervously scratched over the plate of the table they were all sitting and standing at and on, right next to a piece of paper with a hastily drawn sketch of a spring-like mechanical leg that was inspired by what humans called 'running blades'. The Warrant Officer's weapon also laid on the table, pushed a but further away from his hand so he wouldn't be able to easily reach it.
Though despite his focus, Curi couldn't quite help but speak up after a moment of watching him. “A coreworld attacking another coreworld,” they said to the man, who they knew either had to know far more than they did about this – or would be far more invested in it unfolding. “This is unprecedented.”
Reprig seemed to notice that they were talking to him, however he still remained silent and stared a good few moments longer before finally pulling his gaze away from the screen.
As his eyes met theirs, he looked a bit sick. It almost reminded the cyborg of one of the first interactions they had with the man, back when they nudged him slightly to hand his spy-device back to him after he tried to hide it in James' cabin. Though this time, the cyborg was quite sure that they were not the reason why the man seemed like most of his blood was currently rushing into his stomach.
Could he actually be shocked about what was happening? Was this not part of the plan?
“Unprecedented doesn't even come close to describing it...” he mumbled and couldn't hold the cyborg's gaze for long, looking down to the table's plate instead. “And these aren't just any coreworlds. Osontjar and Gewelitten have been allied for an unimaginably long time. The thought that they would even think of attacking each other...what sort of madness could've caused something like this?”
Curi was the first to admit to themselves that they were far from the best at reading people. If someone with even a modicum of skill in acting wanted to make them believe something untrue about the person they were talking to, they would never deny that there was a good chance of that person succeeding.
Still, Reprig's reaction felt...genuine to them. As if he had actually never expected something like this to happen. Not in a million years.
Maybe it was just skillful acting. And Curi knew that they should have been suspicious like that. However, despite everything he had done, they couldn't quite bring themselves to suspect that he was lying at that moment.
“I know it is unlikely you will give me an honest answer, but-” Curi began to say, however Reprig was more than able to anticipate what they were going to ask and replied long before they were finished.
“No. No. Never,” the sipusserleng said, shaking his head heavily and standing his trunk up while making a denying gesture with his hand that was so brash that he actually knocked his crutch off the small outcrop in the table it had been laid down on. “This must be some absolutely deranged people, no two ways about it. To attack a coreword...”
Curi noticed Reprig's gaze briefly twitching down, his eyes jumping onto the personal assistant strapped to his lower arm as if he suddenly got the urge to use it for something.
Curi suspected he likely wanted to call someone; question them to make extra sure that they had, in fact, nothing to do with this. Though the sipusserleng suppressed the urge and pulled his eyes away, bringing them back up to the screen.
Just at that moment, the implosion of collapsing hyperspace suddenly lit up the footage moments before the glowing remnants of what once had been the zodiatos ships were scattered across the star-system.
Mueen mumbled something in his home's language as his eyes remained affixed to the screen. Curi couldn't even begin to guess what he was saying. However, his voice sounded pleading.
“Suicide instead of surrender?” Reprig meanwhile mouthed breathlessly as his nervous tick of excessively licking his trunk began to show.
Although he had often been otherwise employed in recent times, Curi could see it in the man's eyes that he was still, in a way, military at heart. He knew the general values and doctrines that were conveyed to the soldiers of the Communal Military, both inside and out. And the idea of someone choosing death like this...it seemed to rock him to his very core.
Slowly, he turned his gaze over to Curi. His eyes were almost pleading with the cyborg, even if they seemed to already know that his next question would be asked in vain.
“Could it maybe have been the humans and their-” he began, but this time, it was Curi's term to cut him off after anticipating what was coming.
“While humans very much employ the collapsing of hyperspace as a tactic in war, the process is not invisible – or even subtle. Had the human ships caused that collapse, it would've been noticeable,” they explained succinctly. “It could've still been a mere unexpected failure of the hyperspace generation, of course. However, with the rarity of such events, the timing seems...unlikely.”
“They weren't even trying to generate a real stretch...” Reprig concurred dejectedly and left his head hanging, his trunk also sinking down limply. “I can't even imagine- Well...I hope they will at least find peace now, away from the madness.”
Curi paused for a long moment, staring at the Warrant Officer some more. Admittedly, the cyborg was a bit confounded at something. They knew for a fact the man had put his own life on the line for his orders, with a very real chance that they would lead to his death, more than just once. And yet the idea of being ordered to die seemed to disturb him. They couldn't quite figure out the difference that led to the results in reaction being so incredibly different, however it was still very clear that there was one.
And it seemed to hit the man hard.
Self-admittedly, Curi didn't exactly pity the man. They didn't quite have the capacity to. They knew about so many horrible things he had done that simply seeing him distressed was far from enough to stir such deep empathy for him within them.
Yet still, they weren't left entirely cold by it either – and if it was only because he seemed to be affected by these events in the ways a, for a lack of a better term, 'normal person' would be. He was shocked at the sudden, seemingly senseless violence, and concerned about the people involved.
Granted, it was likely only because they were people he considered worth being concerned about, yet still, the reaction was so...'normal', in a way they didn't quite expect from someone with such a capability for unceremonious acts of cruelty and violence. Even this person who had tried to kill them, or at least had been entirely comfortable with them getting killed, was capable of such a reaction.
And Curi...wasn't sure if that made things better or worse, if they were being honest.
It felt better because there was the capability for empathy there, however...it felt worse because they felt how they had been and likely still were willingly denied said empathy.
He could have cared...he just didn't want to.
Curi shook their body heavily, causing mild sounds from the engines running their legs' movements from the sudden force as they tried to shoo away emotions that they really didn't want to be feeling at that exact moment.
The thing that mostly kept them from following up on some of their uncomfortably aggressive thoughts at that moment was the fact that Mueen was still with them, the worry for his mother written across his features like a deep engraving in a metal plaque. He did not need anything like that around him right now, that much was clear.
Slowly, they moved over to him and reached up one of their long legs to run it along his arm while he still covered parts of his large face with both hands.
“She will be alright,” Curi then assured the dark-furred rafulite, switching from their usual voice box to their more “melodic” one to put on a gentle, calming tone. “She is stronger than she seems.”
Inhaling deeply as his nostrils flared, Mueen closed his dark eyes and swallowed heavily, taking his gaze off the large screen for the first time in many minutes while slowly hanging his head down.
“Yeah,” he said, seeming to force hopefulness into his tone. “Yes, she'll be fine. She made it his far. This won't get to her.”
Curi nodded with their entire body and continued to run the tip of their leg along his arm.
“She will be,” they repeated, both to the man and themselves as their own eyes moved upwards, their gaze falling back on the battlefield riddled with burning remnants of matter. “I'm sure of it.”
–
Never in his life had James felt so drunk and so sober at the same time. His mind was entirely clear, running a light-year a minute as it desperately tried to simultaneously process all the admittedly little information that he had in his current situation AND to not absolutely freak out while doing so somehow – a task he was ludicrously failing at. And it did NOT help that his body could barely keep itself on his own two feet.
He had avoided completely fainting by a hair earlier after reminding himself that, instead of being terrified for Shida's life, it would be much more fair towards her to simply focus on trusting in her skills to carry her through. However, that was barely a little patch on an enormous crack in his facade as he couldn't help but go over and over and over the fact of how much worse the situation that she needed to jump into here had been for her simply because it was his damn birthday and they wanted to indulge over it. He should've stopped that, but noooo, he just had to go and let himself be swayed so damn easily, as if he was still that little boy following Koko around whenever she visited the compound to try and get some attention.
Of course, a quiet voice in the back of his head tried to politely remind him that Shida had, in fact, not only taken part in the festivities as well but also encouraged him to do so, however it was easily overpowered by the screaming rest of his mind.
He briefly glanced over at the only somewhat conscious Commander. When she said that they should match each other's drinks, that should've been the moment he stopped. She was like half his weight, what the hell was he thinking?
His mechanical hand shot up, heavily gripping a fist full of hair as he tried to force himself to focus. What's done is done. There's no changing it. He should focus on anything else right now.
Though as he painfully pulled on his hair like that, his eyes suddenly went wide as he noticed something. Or, more precisely, didn't notice something.
When had the alarm stopped? Just now? Or had it been out and he just hadn't noticed?
Letting go of his hair, he lifted his face and looked around. If the alarm was over, then that meant...
The uncoordinated movement of soldiers reaching for their phones and radios with different speeds went through the room, and after brief confirmation, the uniformed forces began to move, having seemingly gotten new orders other than guarding the safe-rooms. Apparently, the threat was over.
James quickly fumbled for his own phone, his barely coordinated hands struggling extremely with the simple task of trying to call one of his contacts – much to the frustration of his already cleared mind. His finger trembled as he swiped it across the screen, trying to get it to the right damn place to make a simple god-damn call.
However, he froze in the motion at a quiet sound that was immediately followed by a sudden stir behind him as multiple people seemed to move quickly. And after just a second, James was among them as well.
Nearly tripping over his feet, he damn near threw himself onto the sickbed that didn't stand too far away from him, his phone momentarily forgotten and eyes wide open as they stared over at an endlessly familiar dark face, that however had life in it for the first time in what felt like an eternity at that moment.
Slowly and twitchy, Nia's eyes fluttered open as she let out quiet groans while mildly stirring in place while her doctors and nurses hurried around her and quickly began to take her vitals.
After flinching heavily as a flashlight was quite suddenly shone into her eyes to test her photopupillary reflex, she began to move even more. Meanwhile, James and Tuya were basically pressed shoulder to shoulder close to the foot of her bed, the only thing keeping them from dashing right up to her face being just enough awareness to not get in the doctor's way.
Still, although her movements were very slow, stiff, and groggy, Nia eventually lifted up her head, looking around with still somewhat hazy and half-closed eyes. But that didn't stop her from smiling when her gaze fell onto the two who so nervously stood at her bedside there.
“Hey,” she said in a quiet, croaky, but still very much cheerful voice as her unkempt hair fell down both sides of her face.
Though James didn't see much more than that, because just about at that moment, his vision was entirely taking away by welling-up waters sweeping him along.

here's a link to the file: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1G7W4GdusVYyZjflhm4F19jR6tiFemlLK/view?usp=sharing // class code 5/14/2024 /* We will reproduce the game from last class: This game will read in a file of english words and then select a random word and present it to the user after shuffling it. The user has to guess the original word in one minute or less to win. https://onlinegdb.com/_ijm6Bc7L */ #include  #include  #include  #include  // For sleep using namespace std; size_t read_words_from_file(vector> &words, string fileName){ ifstream ifs(fileName); if(!ifs){ cerr << "Fatal error. Could not open " << fileName << endl; exit(-1); // This exits the whole program. Not just return to main. } string word; size_t num_words = 0; while(getline(ifs, word)){ size_t length = word.length(); if(length >= words.size()) words.resize(length + 1); words[length].push_back(word); ++num_words; } return num_words; } //This will jumble word by choosing a random location for each letter and will //return the jumbled word string jumble_letters(string word){ //remove pesky ^M at the end of windows lines if(word.length() > 0 && word[word.length()-1] == '\r') word = word.substr(0, word.size()-1); for(size_t i = 0; i < word.length(); i++){ size_t n = i + rand() % (word.length() - i); swap(word[i], word[n]); } return word; } int main(){ srand((unsigned) time(nullptr)); // seed rand //Words is a vector of vectors of a string where each inner vector is a // string of the same size as others in the vector vector> words; string data_file = "words.txt"; // open words.txt and read into vector size_t num_words = read_words_from_file(words, data_file); cout << "Read " << num_words << " words from " << data_file << endl; //Select a random word size and a random word from words of that size //TODO is there a bug in the two lines below? discover and discuss in the //forums either way size_t n = rand() % words.size(); string random_word = words[n][rand() % words[n - 1].size()]; string jumbled_word = jumble_letters(random_word); cout << "Stand by for your jumbled word of length " << n << "..." << endl; sleep(1); cout << "Unjumble this in one minute or less: " << jumbled_word < 

Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cxj7h8/comment/l52vtd5/?context=3
*****

The Palatini of Orias journey took nine grueling days of traveling down the peaks of Torness Mountain Range. But at long last, they reached the Coralus Valley. While the temperature was far below what the half-elf usually enjoyed, it was far better than the mountain peaks.
They traveled through the valley, trying to avoid the multiple hostiles, villages, and anyone else who could tip off their enemies. They had to take every tedious path imaginable to prevent possible contact with the enemy.
Staring at their destination, Fraeya Holiadon could not decide if she should be thrilled or distorted at the sight. "Is this the place?"
"I believe so," Raegel said. "The pattern of the structures matches my drawings and the map. See the remains of the two walls?"
"And the stone rings that direct out," Henness said.
"So, you have read the legends," Raegel said, surprised by the centurion's knowledge of the temple.
"I always prepare before a mission," Henness said. "Those half rings, are they stone or artificial?"
"They look like stone, so I think they used the ground stone and molded them," Raegel said.
Fraeya Holiadon carefully stared at the temple ruins. All she could see was the destruction—fractured stone buildings, walls, weed-infested stone pavement, and so on. While there were still many stone structures, most were destroyed. She could only see death, not the walls her father could see.
She turned to ask her father what he was talking about but saw Centurion Fionntan Henness pointing toward the walls and other details.
Watching the two communicate about the features of the temple, she realized how out of depth she was. Her father spent generations studying ruins like this, while Henness is an experienced soldier. For Fraeya, this was her first mission outside the academy supervision, and she realized how different the world was compared to the classroom.
As the two spoke, her elf ears overheard Henness mention that he saw green webbing. As the two men debated what creatures could create that webbing, she already knew based on the type of webbing. Being an excellent student, she recalled the topic regarding intelligent monsters. While many species produce a web, only one creates a thick green. Goblins.
"Father," Fraeya said. "I think goblins made those webbings."
"How could you possibly know that?" Henness asked, unconvinced by the theory. "It would easily be Rorgo or a Kipt."
Fraeya reached into her backpack and pulled out her notepad. She flipped through the pages and responded, "Kipt is more silk-like, while Rorgo is more for capturing prey. Both are white. Only Goblins make green."
"She is correct," Raegel said. "The green should have been a given."
"Alright," Henness said. "That complicates things."
"How so?" Fraeya asked. "The academy said they are weak. Adventures and local militia kill them constantly, so your men should be able to wipe them out with your weaponry easily."
"Goblins are weak in small numbers, but they are a nightmare in large numbers," Henness said. "And depending on the horde, they adapt to who their enemies are quickly. For all I know, we could be fighting a nest that is as heavily armed as we are."
Fraeya looked back toward the next with much confusion. She knew about the goblin's ability to adapt. However, her teachers never stated how formal they could be. Only treating them as barbarians is a functional civilization. "I would think the academy would mention something like that."
"If you are going to be out here in the world, you must understand that life is very different from the classroom," Henness said. "The difference between someone who lives behind a desk versus someone on the ground. Now, I need to get my forces ready for our attack."
Once the centurion left, Fraeya looked at her father. "I am starting to get the impression that my schooling wasn't as truthful as I once thought."
Raegel chuckled at the statement from his daughter. "That is what I said when I left my academy in Thali'ean," he said with a short chuckle before he spoke. "Henness was correct; there is a large gap between the classroom and out here in the world."
"I see. So, now, what do we do?"
"We wait for the legionaries to form a plan. Because time is not on our side, he will want you to assist with your magic. Do you think you can assist? If you are uncomfortable, tell me now, and you can stay here where it is safe."
Feeling a nervous chill creeping down her spine, she looked back toward the temple and breathed heavily. "I admit, I am scared, but I didn't come here to babysit the camp. I want to help."
She felt her father pat her on the back, feeling a sense of pride from his touch.
"That's my daughter."
After an hour of planning, the Palatini of Orias began their assault on the temple ruins. The plan was for a primary team to assault the temple directly, triggering a response from the goblin. The second team would remain on the high ground and pick off the horde.
Fraeya ended up on the right side of the group team. To her surprise, many soldiers were thrilled that they were finally getting into a fight. She wondered, after two weeks of crawling over the mountains and hiding like rodents, they finally got a chance to be soldiers.
The primary assault group she was attached to advance toward the temple once the signal was given. Passing one of the few remaining wall structures, they entered the temple ground. As they swept through the old temple's front sections, the goblins huddled around a fire pit, noticed them, and prepared for battle.
Three legionaries known as circilmen, from the palatini positioned themselves to engage the incoming enemy. Carrying a ranged projectile weapon known as a circiletum, they hid behind the front shield men and fired upon the incoming enemy. They picked off two of the three goblins as the last one quickly crawled under a piece of rubble for cover. Then, the palatini heard a painful screech from the hiding goblin.
Fraeya couldn't help herself but stand there noticing the two fresh corpses. She then watched as two of the swordsmen rushed to the hiding goblin. They reached in and pulled the little green monster out of its hiding spot.
Two swordsmen grabbed the goblin and dragged it from its cover, it jumped on top of one of the legionaries, stabbing its blade into its armor, unable to break through. With a short struggle, the legionary could slam the goblin onto the ground. The other legionary stomped on the body before thrusting his gladius into the monster.
Hearing another screech, Fraeya looked down the stone path and saw goblins popping out of every crack and corner.
One of the legionary officers ordered the unit to reform. The swordsmen took the front with their large scutum shields, creating a two-line protective shield wall. Behind them were the circilmen, taking cover behind the scutum.
The group of goblins charged forward. As they approached, the legionaries saw the raw, starving rage within their dark green eyes—a thirst for primal instincts of food and lust and nothing else.
"Fraeya, is it?"
Hearing her name, she turned to the commanding offer of this group.
"When I give the order, shake the ground." The lower-ranking Centurian said.
Fraeya acknowledged the order as she understood what he was planning.
Turning back to the incoming horde, she watched the three circilmen open fire. The circiletums cut down the forward group of goblins. The ones behind that row suddenly stopped from the shock but were cut down by a second volley.
"Now. Before they scatter."
Fraeya placed her hands together and chanted. The two tiny mana crystals on her gloves blew green as she felt a raw energy channel through her body. A moment later, that glow expanded to the point that it encompassed her hand.
Channeling the mana needed for the spell, Fraeya placed her left hand on the ground.
The stone ground beneath them shook the stone terra, stunning the goblins. Right down the center, cracks formed, and the terra broke apart. The road slightly uplifted into an elevation, forcing the goblins to focus on what was happening.
With the ground disinformed, it prevented the enemy from scattering in an organized manner, allowing the circilmen to fire another volley.
The front scutum marched forward and started cutting down anything that moved. The other line split into two groups. They were marching down the street in an almost synchronized manner. They held their shields high toward the ruins, protecting the circilmen from any incoming projectile. Arrows and magic.
Fireballs flew and impacted the scutum infantry, protecting the flanks. Some of the shields glowed from the impact. The flames engulfed one of the men's arms, and he started to scream from the pain.
The circilmen returned fire, and a firefight began. The sound of their weapons crackled throughout the surrounding area, amplified by the ruined walls. Above the sound of battle were the voices and cries of the wounded—the circiletum that were deployed on the ridge above rained fire from the suppressive team.
The Palatini of Orias pushed deeper into the temple ground as the battle continued. That was until the town began to be consumed by this thick haze, providing cover for the goblins, and restricting visibility for the Lat forces. While not educated to the standards of civilized races, Goblins were not stupid.
"It is a haze," Fraeya said. "They must have a mage somewhere within the nest."
Centurion Fionntan Henness approached their forces and began to regroup. "Can you counter it?"
"No," Fraeya replied. "I never studied Aeromancy magic."
"Nebulo," Henness said. "Our armor and weapons will be less effective."
Fraeya understood his concern. From what she recalled from her classes; goblins have sharp senses. Based on the density of the haze, it was clear even to her that they were planning to force them to huddle and expose themselves to be surrounded, making their ranged weapons worthless.
"We will just have to work around it," Raegel said.
As Frayea prepared herself, she felt a strange feeling throughout her body, almost like some field affecting her body. She saw a female legionary in light armor and a cloak checking over the wounded. One of the few women in the legionary, she could tell she was the unit healer specializing in Sanamancy magic. The women must have placed a barrier to help protect against any poisonous gasses lying within the haze.
Orias advanced through the haze; this forced the soldiers to clump together for safety. As the assault group progressed, they were hit non-stop by the goblin's arrow fire, spears, and fire shots from sling guns. Most of these projectiles caused minor damage thanks to the heavy armor legionary’s wear. However, this did not remove the damage as it brought discomfort and limited their progression to a crawl.
Barely noticing two figures on top of a rooftop through the haze, who were firing slingshots toward their position, she pointed her hand toward a piece of rubble and, with her magic, lifted the debris and projected it through the haze. The rubble temporarily formed a gap in the haze that increased the line-of-sight.
She then called out to the fire battle mage within the unit. The mage realized what was happening and fired multiple firebolts toward the tower. Five bolts impacted the building from different directions, engulfing the structure in flames. Everyone could hear the faint sound of goblins screaming as the building burnt.
With the tower collapsing suddenly, arrows rained through the thick haze, hitting the legionaries in retaliation. While most arrows bounced off the armor, some found exposed spots. Two more legionaries fell to their knees, with one vomiting blood, forcing the healed to focus on the sick over protecting the group.
It became clear that the goblins changed their tactics and poisoned their arrows. While worthless against armor, they could still puncture the underneath clothing and scrap any exposed part of the skin.
A luperca legionnaire picked up an old broken wagon and used it as a shield to protect. With the cover, the lower ranking commanders directed the circilmen to pick off any goblins that peaked above the surface.
Combined with the haze and change of tactic, this formed a strange stalemate between the two sides. The Orias was forced into a defensive; they were well equipped to deal with any goblins who dared to get within melee range. However, the goblins had surrounded and had the range advance as they could see through the haze, allowing them to snipe any legionary who adventured far from the group.
Fraeya saw a blob of acid impact a swordsmen's scutum. The scutum started being consumed by the spell, slowly falling into pieces. The man screamed as he felt his arm burn, desperately untieing the strappings to ditch the heavy shield.
"We need to kill their shaman before we are picked off," Raegel said.
"I agreed," Henness replied. "As long as this haze is here, my suppressive team is useless."
"If I recall," Fraeya said. "A Shaman should be nearby. Someone close enough to maintain this haze and give commands but not put themselves in danger."
"Then I know where it should be," Henness said. "Let's go half-elf."
She felt her ears perk up once she realized the centurion was talking about her. She looked toward her father and saw the 'it is time to prove yourself' look. Taking a deep breath and preparing herself, she gathered behind Henness and six of his men.
The assault unit left the main one and adventurer deeper into the temple grounds. As they reached what remained of an intersection, goblins stormed out of the stone buildings to ambush the legionaries.
With their disciplined reaction, the legionaries immediately adjusted their formation and sliced down the attackers. Henness stood at the center, holding his sword out as flames wrapped around the blade.
As the goblins attacked the swordsmen, Fraeya broke apart the ground on the right flank, knocking many goblins. The one that fell, she entangled them by summoning vines - which trapped the goblins and pulled them into the ground until their death or burial.
She then turned and lifted parts of the ground on the left flank, blocking some of the goblins. This prevented the legionaries from being encircled.
"Reform," Henness ordered. "We need to advance quickly. Stay close."
Once the path was clear, the unit moved toward the building where the goblins had fortified. Henness moved in front of her to provide protection. He held up his shield, deflecting arrows.
"Stay behind me," Henness said.
While not being a military woman, Fraeya quickly learned to accept the chain of command on this quest. On the battlefield, her father told her to listen to Henness as he was a man of war. She realized that the structure and safety of the city and the academy are vastly different in the countryside. Getting behind him, she followed him close behind as he pushed forward, arrows striking his shield, allowing her to get in range for her spell.
The legionaries stopped engaging the incoming goblins, allowing their centurion and the young mage to get closer. Henness reached around his scutum and pressed the amulet attached to the outer shell's center. Once pressed, the large shield briefly glowed before darkening, returning to the standard red with white lining design.
Up ahead, Fraeya saw in full display of the nest. Spikes, fortification, and green webbing filled the gaps between the ruined structures. Skeletons and decomposing bodies littered the areas of their past victims. The goblins were standing in the bunker sections, preparing for battle. With how heavily guarded it was, she concluded that this must be where the Shaman was.
"Fraeya, now!"
Fraeya moved around the man to cast her spell. With a quick chant, her hands glowed green again. As she channeled her mana, an acid attack impacted Henness' scutum. While the added hardening enchantment from the amulet increased the scutum resistance, the acid slowly ate through the large shield.
Stepping from cover, Fraeya aimed her hands at the nest. The ground trembled a little as the front of the nest collapsed on itself from the summoned sinkhole.
With the front entrance open, Fraeya saw the Shaman in plain view—a female, being one of the few within a goblin nest. The Shama looked scared as she looked around where to hide.
Fraeya did not give it time as she cast a spell that created a spike from the ground below the Shaman and pierced straight through the vicious monster, killing it instantly.
As the Shaman staff hit the ground, the haze started to disappear.
Believing that her work was complete after killing the goblin leader, her ears quickly heard footsteps surrounding them.
Noticing that the goblins were about to swarm their position, she took cover behind Henness to protect his rear. She took a deep breath as she felt exhausted from the battle and cast so many spells quickly.
Starting at five goblins that emerged from the ruins, Fraeya watched as they charged toward them. Before they got close, however, each one was sniped from the ridge-side suppressive team.
With a moment of confusion, she stared toward the cliffside and saw the suppressive team. Now that the haze is disappearing, they could snipe off the remaining goblins from their elevation position.
"Good job, half-elf," Henness said, slowly stepping back with a shield aimed at the flames, guiding Fraeya back.
"Stop calling me half-elf," Fraeya yelled. "I am out here risking my life with the rest of you, and don't give me that war is a male-domain thing! I am willing to see this through. Most of my kind would stay home and let you fight, so why do you keep degrading me?"
"Because ideals get people killed," Fionntan Henness replied. "Out here, you must earn that respect within the brotherhood of warriors, especially if you are used to living inside the city walls. People with a self-protected mindset usually end up as food for the worms or get my soldiers killed because they do not understand what it takes to survive."
The centurion then turned to the destroyed nest. "I will say, though, what you did here. It is a good first step for a half-elf." He then turned to give her an approving smile.
Not understanding the humor from the Lat, Fraeya accepted it. From her experience, Lats always had a strange sense of humor. Insults are sometimes seen as compliments while praising could be considered offensive. Saying one thing but meaning another is a common trait for them.
With the remaining palatini coming after clearing the remaining goblins, Fraeya saw her father. She rushed over and hugged him and teared up.
"You did good, my dear," Raegel said as he patted her.
"Is this really what it is like out here?" Fraeya asked.
"Sadly, it is," Fraeya replied. "That is why I never brought you around on my digs."
"I am sorry to interrupt," Henness said. "We are on borrowed time, so can we get at it?"
Fraeya looked toward the centurion with frustration as she wanted a moment with her father. After taking a deep breath, she realized that he was right.
After finishing her hug, she brushed off the goblin's blood and clothing.
"Then we better begin searching for what we came for," Raegel said as he reached for his bag. She watched as he pulled out a perfectly smoothed, pure black orb. By itself, it didn't look impressive. She had seen hundreds of these orbs at the academy or the many workshops within the city.
Raegel held the orb in one hand and activated it with his mana. The orb glowed light blue and fainted, barely emitting any energy. He then took it against the mountain and began scanning.
Not wanting to miss anything, Fraeya quickly pulled out her journal, skipping past all her notes until she reached a blank page. She then began documenting everything her father did, taking in every world and detail.
The palatini began walking through the ruins, heading toward the mountain wall. Raegel explained in his research that the temple extended inside the mountain, like a dwarf borrian. While others who came before him came up with this theory, they were still looking for a way to detect the hidden door markings and find it.
Raegel moved down the side of the mountain, holding the orb high.
"Why are you not using a door-detecting amulet?" Fraeya asked.
"Because people have been using that for generations and found nothing here," Raegel replied.
After a reasonable amount of time when nothing had happened, Fraeya began to wonder if everything was for nothing. Seeing the lack of progress, Henness inquired if the orb failed to work. As Raegel replied, the orb suddenly blimped orange for a moment.
Witnessing the sudden change, the group backed away as they did not know how to respond to the sudden glow.
Noticing a renewed excitement from her father, she followed him closely as they investigated the mountainside.
As they searched, her father noticed that the faint blue glow from the orb had changed to orange. It then disappeared and slowly appeared, like it was slowly pulsing. When they continued walking forward, the pulsing light increased in speed.
"I think it is directing us, father," Fraeya said.
"Possible," Raegel said. "There must be some type of link."
The palatini followed the direction the orb gave. As the group approached a mountainside wall, the pulse frequency increased until it looked like the orb glowed a solid color.
"I think we found it," Raegel said. He lifted the orb toward the wall.
As the orb drew closer to the mountainside, these blue lines appeared all over the rocky wall. The rough chips of rock melted away and turned smooth as the light traveled through the grooves, slowly creating what looked like a giant door of light.
Once the bright lights finished designing a massive door, Fraeya placed her hand on the wall, shocked at how the natural bulky rocks turned into a marble-like wall.
"I would step aside, Fraeya," Raegel said.
As Fraeya stepped backward, she watched her father open the door with a magical spell. Like most magical doors, the door brightened as she expected it would fold into the mountain. To her surprise, the door didn't fold away but melted into the ground.
"What happened to the door?" Fraeya asked.
Raegal placed his hand on his chin. "It seemed that the wall was not solid but some liquid matter. These people are impressive."
The wall began to shake as dusk from the cracks spread through the area.
A large opening formed as the door walls folded into the mountainside. A passage leading deeper into the mountain. The walls were black and smooth, while the floor had these textiles in perfect order, leading deeper into the mountain.
"This has to be a dwarven design," Fraeya commented. "Only they could do something like this."
"I'm not sure," Raegel said. "This is not a design I have seen from dwarves."
Fraeya understood what her father meant. Dwarven doors into the mountains took a lot of work to find. While there were many designs of such hidden doors and the means to open them, it was doubtful that anyone had ever seen a secret magical door like this before.
Raegel started to walk into the chamber but was suddenly stopped by Henness. Stating that he wanted his men to go first to ensure no trap, three legionaries moved through the large chamber. Once they gave the clear, the rest of the group entered.
While walking, Fraeya stayed close to her father as she took notes. The soldiers ahead of them set up torches to add more light. To her surprise, the walls and floor were smooth. The air was stale, probably trapped within this chamber for centuries.
As they walked inside, the room lit up. Everyone stopped as they looked toward the end of the hall. The chamber was empty, with only a strange-looking platform at the very end. Noticing that the orb was pointing toward the platform, they approached it.
"Is this it?" Henness asked. "It does not look that impressive."
"Not everything is based on size, centurion," Raegel replied, to which his daughter giggled.
Fraeya then analyzed the platform. It was smooth, almost marble-like. However, she doubted whether it was marble. The fundamental details that she noticed were a strange-looking blue crystal at the center of the platform and another in a hole on the side.
"This is interesting," Fraeya commented. The design looked surprisingly simple. This orb must act as some command orb for this device. They must be communicating in some manner."
"Assuming that the legend was true, the orcs were the ones who summoned the lats from Altaerrie," Fraeya said. "Maybe, when this place was lost of that time, it was never turned off. Being left in a state of slumber, waiting to be reawakened."
"Possible. It would explain why the orb directed us here. The orange pulse is now pointing down at a rapid pace."
"I think it goes into that hole, father," Fraeya said. "From what I can tell, the crystal in there connects to the one on top of the platform."
"I see," Raegel said. "The pulse is pointing toward it too. I recommend that everyone step back."
"Be careful, father," Fraeya said.
Stepping back from the platform, Fraeya watched as her father placed the orb into the hole. This was the moment her father had been talking about for decades, and it had finally come true. The Bridge between two worlds had finally been discovered.
As Raegel placed the orb into the platform, it glowed orange in a solid state, no longer pulsing. The blue crystal in the middle of the platform slowly lit up, like it was waking up after a long sleep.
The air suddenly chilled as the air flowed toward the platform. A bright light beamed out of the crystal and slowly faded away, leaving a light as if on standby.
To their dismay, the orb changed to red, dimming and brightening in a slow, tired pattern.
"What is it doing, father?" Fraeya asked.
"I have no idea," Raegel replied. "It must be waiting for something."

My wife and I have been having a silly argument about the appropriateness of my actions during the last weekend. I wanted to get opinion on if my actions were appropriate.
We both are in our mid 40s and have been married for 16 years. Overall, things have been amazing (so far), and I could not ask for a better partner. I have been overweight for most of my life. Around 3 years ago, I started hitting the gym as it was my last chance to gain any muscles before my twilight years. I have lost substantial weight and body fat and am happy with how I look (compared to other dads my age). I am more comfortable to take my t-shirt off if it's a hot summer day. My wife has never had any problems with it.
Last week, my wife had a few of her friends over. They were all in the backyard drinking wine. I took the chance to go to the gym in the evening and stay late to give them some privacy. When I came back home, they were all pretty drunk. When I got back, I decided to go back to the yard to say hi to everyone before taking a shower. They were all in the hot tub enjoying themselves.
I go there and one of them asks me to come in the hot tub. I politely decline and she said, "Take off your clothes and get in". Everyone laughed. Others joined in and also started making some pretty crude comments. Everyone was laughing and I realized they were all drunk and just trying to make me uncomfortable. My wife was also in on the joke, and she was smiling. She was telling them "No, he is mine, that's only for me". I am not the one to back down and was also taunting them. Finally, I took off my shirt and threw it aside and they all laughed. I then excused myself and took shower and sat in my office to play videogames for the rest of the night.
The next morning, my wife was giving me a cold shoulder. She told me that I should act my age. She felt I acted in a pretty lewd "stripper-like" manner and should have just left after her friends started commenting about taking off the clothes. She told me that she also asked me to not do it, and I still did it because I enjoy the attention. She says that she now feels embarrassed with the whole incident, and I just gave her friends green flag to make sexual comments about me all night.
I felt they were just having fun and they have seen me without my shirt on 100s of times. I am also comfortable around them as we know them forever. I personally do not see how I crossed any lines. My wife though felt her friend's actions were not appropriate, and it was more inappropriate that I acted along and took off my shirt. Note that all her friends were in the bathtub in their bathing suits. She feels it's not taking off the shirt, but the context around it that made the act very cheap, and she does not want her friends to view me in that way.
Dear people of reddit, can you please weigh in on this stupid argument we are having right now. Do you think my wife is right in this one? My wife will also be reading the comment section, so please be nice (i.e. please don't tell her to divorce me).

Hi, I’m bonzos-number-1-fan You might know me from such theories as; "Theory of Fears; or, Zur Furchtlehre", "What R# Means: The ABCs of Fear" or, "Padlocks, How Do They Even Work?".
I’m back with another essay about this show. Today’s subject is a little different from previous ones. Rather than explaining what I think something in this show is, I’ll be explaining what I think it isn’t. What I’m going to be talking about is the very popular theory that CAT1/2/3 means the supernatural aspect is a Person/Place/Object.
Because I’m talking about other people’s ideas here I do want to start off by saying I understand why this theory is attractive and I don’t think anyone is stupid or anything for believing it. I just personally think there are angles from which it doesn’t work and that the sum of them makes it fairly certain to be untrue. I could be very wrong about that, and my other theories, or I could be very right. I don’t think either scenario matters much. This essay isn’t about being right but about talking about a big thing in the community. I just happen to not believe this one and people have signalled interest in hearing why.
So with all that out of the way I’m going to start by establishing the terminology being used. Then I’ll break down what this theory is positing and follow it up with the ways I think it does and doesn’t work. That’s basically it but with 16 episodes and supplemental material to cover it’s still not going to be terribly short.
Huge thanks to @brettanomycroft for proof reading/editing this madness.

Spoilers for The Magnus Protocol up to and including episode 16.

 

What is a CAT#?

A CAT# is the first 4-5 characters of an OIAR's incident report header. While these are not often referenced in the main body of the show, each incident we hear is accompanied by one in the show's description and transcript. As an example this is the case number for the first incident of episode 1.

CAT1RBC5257-12052022-09012024

Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]

The first line is the case number. CAT1 is this incident's CAT#. The RBC (R#/Rank) and 5257 (DPHW) have been topics I've discussed in essays I linked at the start. The second line is the header and is formatted “Section (Subsection) -/- Crosslink [Format]”. CAT#s is all we're concerning ourselves with today but I will be using this terminology going forward.
Now we know what they look like, what is it we know about them? Well, not much at all. From the show itself we know there are CAT1s, CAT2s, CAT3s and CAT23s. From the Klaus excel sheet that was found as part of the ARG (and can be found here) we also know there are CAT12s and CAT13s. With that information we can say with some certainty that CAT1, CAT2, and CAT3 are non-mutually exclusive groupings. It's very likely not a linear scale of some description—i.e CAT23 isn't between CAT2 and CAT3—because CAT13 doesn't fit such a scale. Which means that where there are two numbers in a CAT# that incident likely fits both groups rather than being a new group. This also strongly implies that an incident could be CAT123 although we have yet to see that demonstrated.
We also know that CAT is short for "Category". In the Klaus sheet these numbers are located in the "Kategorie" column. "Kategorie" being German for "category". This unfortunately doesn't tell us anything we didn't already know. CAT#s denote some form of grouping.
There is only one other fact we know about CAT#s and that's this:

ALICE
Right, so, after each entry there's four numbers. That’s the DPHW. So, “dolls comma watching” is… 1157. Then you cross reference with the table here, that would be a 2-C, and then you type that into the box here, along with date of incident if there is one and today’s date.

Which is not a lot to go on at all but it does raise an important question. How is a CAT# assigned? There are two major assumptions you could make here. The first is the “objective method” and that it’s a factor of either the section, subject, DPHW or a combination thereof. This means that they are pre-assigned in the same way that DPHWs are. This method has an inherent trait in that it means every header manifests as the same sort of thing. While it’s not a problem to say that every Doll (Watching) is the same— that could just be the rules of the setting—it does make CAT# itself somewhat redundant. The terminology of the headers will often describe something inherent about the CAT#. We have a CAT3 case that’s Dice (Bone) -/- Fate but dice are objects so why would you need to restate that?
The second is the “subjective method” in which the assessor chooses the CAT# based on the incident itself. The subjective method has a larger assumption built into it in that they know what CAT#s are. They don’t know what DPHW is and have shown no indication of knowing what CAT# is either. So I’d say it’s less likely that CAT#s are subjective rather than objective. However, for the purposes of this essay I will assume that both are as likely to be true as each other and will refer to them both. Different cases show different flaws when one of these is true over the other, so both will get discussed.
 

What is Person/Place/Object?

Person/Place/Object is the theory that the three single digit CAT#s stand for Person, Place, and Object respectively. Combinations of these digits represent that an incident falls into each category. A CAT1 incident indicates that the supernatural element of an incident is a person in some respect, while a CAT23 would indicate both a place and an object.
As I have mentioned this isn’t a theory with a single theorist or origin to point to. As such this theory isn’t a monolith and there is variation in how these categories are presented from theory to theory. Sometimes “Person” is literal and other times it includes any sentient thing, “places” aren’t always strictly physical locations, and the narrative framing of what “objects” are may shift. As such I will be taking the broadest interpretation of these categories as their definitions.
People will include animals and other sentient beings. Places will include metaphysical locations. Objects won’t need to be physical in nature. This is both the fairest I can be to all theories and also the strongest I can make this theory. The broader I can make these definitions, the more different ideas can be represented and the more wiggle room the CAT#s get.
What I’ll do next is run through all the incidents the show has mentioned and explain them as I see it. We’ll start with the ones that fit this theory well because they require little explanation. Then when that’s established we’ll talk about the places I think this theory falls down.
 

Which Incidents fit well?

CAT1:

CAT1RBC5257 Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret: There is something like a zombie in this incident. That’s something like a person and so fits well.
CAT1RB4824 Injury (Needles) -/- Intimidation: Needles is definitely a person, no question there.
CAT1RB2275 Mascot (Kids) -/- Murder: Bonzo walks, “talks”, and probably thinks. He’s a person.
CAT1B4728 Mascot (Kids) -/- Frenzy: Bonzo is still doing that stuff so is still a person.
CAT1RB4426 Transformation (Snake) -/-Horde: There was a person and they turned into snakes. Snakes count as people here too. Given the amount of snakes this is the most CAT1 CAT1.
CAT1RB-6451 Hunt (Aristocratic) -/- Compulsion: Lady M is the most person on this list.
CAT1RB1565 Tattoo (Influencer) -/- Cardiac: Definitely involves a person doing something supernatural.
 

CAT2:

CAT2C8175 Infection (Full Body) -/- Arboreal: This incident takes place in a time and space bending garden. Makes perfect sense for CAT2.
CAT2RB2377 Disappearance (Undetermined) -/- Invitation: A spooky theatre is a location for sure.
 

CAT3:

CAT3RBC1567 Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic: In this instance the object in question is the tattoo. Which I think is really stretching the definition of “object” but I’m still going to give it to the theory.
CAT3C7494 Collection (Blood) -/- Musical: A magical violin is definitely an object.
CAT3RB3354 Dice (Bone) -/- Fate: Bone dice are inarguably objects.
CAT3RB4622 Gambling (Application) -/- Murder: It’s another stretch to call an app an object but, again, happy to give it to the theory.
 

CAT23:

CAT23RAB2155 Transformation (Eyes) -/- Trespass: In this incident’s case the location is the Magnus Institute and the object is the box RedCanary stole. I think there are some problems with this one but there is enough to get through.
 

Which Incidents Don't?

CAT1:

CAT1RBC5257 Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret: You’re not misremembering, I did say this fit well. Because on the surface it really does make sense, but I think if you push just a little it makes very little sense. Why? Because any category you want to place this in is easily justified in the incident itself. There is a zombie-esque thing but also a Frankenstein-esque figure for CAT1. CAT 2 would be the location of the graveyard itself. It was chosen by the presumed creator of this zombie-like creature and is depicted similar to the one in Marked, a CAT23 incident. If this theory is correct and the Marked graveyard is supernatural I can’t see a reason to discount that possibility here. CAT3 fits too because the presumed creation method is that they were Frankenstein-ed which does require some sort of surgical apparatus. But whichever choice you make you’ve not really clarified the incident at all.
This issue is further seen in the methodology of assigning CAT#s.Objectively it has the same problem all objective assignments do. Reanimation implies there is going to be a reanimated person so restating that doesn’t add much. If we look at the subjective method then this is chosen largely at random. There isn’t enough of an indication in this incident to clearly state which CAT this is. So it’s neither helped in the assessment of the incident and doesn’t provide anything for response because all choices are justifiable.
 
CAT1RB4426 Transformation (Snake) -/- Horde: Not misremembering here either. There is a problem with this one in that it’s demonstrated to be an infection. This makes the source of the affliction basically unknowable. The source could qualify it for other CATs but the larger issue here is that what CAT1 means here and what it means elsewhere are not that comparable. Needles, Bonzo, and Lady M are all sentient and independent. The afflicted we see in this case are normal people until they get very rapidly sick, summon a portal to the snake dimension in their throats, and die. Which leaves CAT1 translating to “something in the rough shape of a person” which is a really wide range of interpretations. Which is something I feel has little practical utility in either assessing or responding to these incidents.
 
CAT1RB1565 Tattoo (Influencer) -/- Cardiac: Still not misremembering. While you can say that Ink5oul or Madame E are the person in this instance there is a major conflict here with CAT3RBC1567 Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic. If Daria’s transformation was CAT3 because tattoos are objects then there is no reasonable justification that this isn’t at least CAT13. It’s the same person, doing the same thing, to a very similar result but in a different CAT. The headers are entirely different, and so this/that may be misfiled, but it highlights a problem with Daria’s incident. If the incident with the Tattoo header isn’t an object then tattoos are probably not objects under this scheme.
If this is objective then this is always a person, or on people, which makes a great deal of sense. However if that’s the case then the objective method for Daria’s case sort of falls apart because there wasn’t really a secondary object there. Additionally, because all incidents with that case’s header being objects is a huge stretch. So if this incident, or that incident, is misfiled it doesn’t really matter. In either case (or even if both of them are misfiled), it largely disproves that tattoos are objects, creating a larger issue with that theory as it affects more than just this case. Subjectively as far as we’re aware Sam filed all three of the Ink5oul incidents. So he chose an object in Daria’s case but then opted against it here despite there being no real reason to that we can see. You could say that now Ink5oul has been in it more, he thinks Ink5oul has some sort of supernatural power themselves which makes them a CAT1; that would still make this CAT13 as episode 11 was CAT23.
 

CAT2:

CAT2RC1157 Dolls (Watching): This is a big one in my opinion. It’s not only the first incident we’re told about, but it's both Sam’s and our first exposure to an explanation of the OIAR’s filing system. It’s also one I see ignored in most of the posts that posit the Person/Place/Object theory. That is understandable as we don’t hear the incident itself but we do hear enough of it to show that there is a flaw in the theory.
What we hear about this incident is entirely focused on the doll itself and questions about its nature. It’s a split between Dolls (Watching) and Dolls (Human Skin) with the former being chosen as the latter is only implied. Dolls themselves are objects which would make this CAT3, and if the doll is sentient a CAT1. However, this is placed in CAT2 indicating that it's actually caused by the location in some respect. In order for that to make sense you have to make 3 major assumptions. Assumption 1: despite no indication in the conversation about this incident suggesting anything outside of the doll being strange there was actually a “haunted house”. Assumption 2: despite there being sections far more descriptive of locations—i.e Architecture—Dolls is more suited to this incident. Assumption 3: despite this being Sam’s/the audience’s first exposure to this system it leaves out the real source of the incident when, narratively, this is an explanation of it. Those are some fairly major assumptions to make to justify a theory.
This also has issues with either method of assigning CAT#s. If CAT# is objective then every Dolls (Watching) is actually a location. Unlike with something like Reanimation (Partial) that doesn't make much sense as dolls themselves are objects. In the subjective method, Alice assigned this as a location but their discussion of it centred solely on an object and she didn't explain to Sam why she did it.
 
CAT2RC3338 Agglomeration (Miscellany) -/- Congregation: This might be my favourite example of issues I have with this theory. To explain it we’ll look at this from both the objective and subjective methods while taking into account outside knowledge of the show from an audience perspective.
Everyone I’ve seen posit this theory attributes CAT2 to Hilltop here.They do this solely because of TMA. There is nothing in this episode that makes Hilltop out to be anything special in any way. But because Hilltop is special in TMA the audience is primed to view this location as special. It may very well be but there is no reason to think that. In fact, I’d argue there's reason to think otherwise based on this episode, but that is a little off topic for this essay. However from an objective perspective it can’t take Hilltop into account because not every header of this sort will take place in Hilltop. They could only manifest at special locations but that seems like a stretch. If it is true, why does this unique combination of words not include a word that describes it as a location? Subjectively it could be a misfile. Celia would be the only person who knows what Hilltop is in TMA— assuming some of the theories on her are correct—but that doesn’t make Hilltop important in and of itself. It also means she ignored large parts of this incident when filing it just to focus on that element. As this case is the one Alice uses to teach Celia the system with, then this also relies on Alice knowing or not correcting Celia. In either scenario this case is full of people of definite supernatural quality, lacks a location of supernatural quality, but has 100s of objects of dubious supernatural quality. Something doesn’t make sense here if this theory is correct.
 
CAT2RBC3366 Architecture (Liminal) -/- Hunger: This one is interesting because it shows a flaw not in the theory per se but in the methodology as a whole if the theory is correct. If CAT# is what the theory says it is why is this just CAT2? It being CAT2 at all is redundant when its header describes a location but in this incident we see it’s populated by supernatural creatures. I call them Uncannybals—as should you—and they’re monsters living in the shadow realm. That seems like very important information to include. So it should be CAT12 as there are both people and a place. The OIAR methodology already has the problem that you can’t include multiple headers but CAT#s, if they worked like this, could be used to alleviate that issue. The way it’s implemented here just makes it virtually pointless to include at all.
 

CAT3:

CAT3RBC1567 Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic: This was largely already covered. So simply put if Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic is an object because of the tattoo, and Tattoo (Corpse) -/- Compulsion is an object because of the tattoo, but Tattoo (Influencer) -/- Cardiac isn’t an object despite being virtually identical to this case then CAT3 doesn't mean object.
The method problems are the same as above too. Now this case is the one most likely of the three to be misfiled. So you could say that Daria's case is misfiled and would actually be CAT1 if filed correctly. Tattoos aren’t objects, this case is a mistake. Then you could explain that Marked is CAT23 because corpses are objects (so 13 if he was alive). Objectively this header always being CAT3 still poses problems because we know there are Transformations that don’t require objects. Which brings us back to the problem of “why are the headers so bad at describing these things?”. If it’s subjective Sam decided that object instead of person made more sense here. Seemingly based on the fact that there is a tattoo. Later on he changed his mind about this but choosing it in the first place seems like a stretch. If he knew what these things meant in order to choose them, object seems like a very unobvious choice.
 

CAT23:

CAT23RC5246 Tattoo (Corpse) -/- Compulsion: This one is fairly clear to me. I’m going to be very generous and suggest that the corpse here is the object based on the above. The reason this one is a problem is that there wasn’t a location here. I’ve seen people say that it must be the graveyard but that’s confirmation bias IMO. It wasn’t a large feature of the episode, didn’t do anything coastal graveyards don’t do, and had no overt supernatural properties to it. I don’t personally think anyone would categorise this as CAT23 based on the incident alone but because CAT23 people will justify it to fit. That’s not inherently a problem because sometimes you have to make assumptions but given all of the above I don’t think that assumption is a reasonable one to make.
Objectively all compelling corpse tattoos are found in magical graveyards—or morgues, tombs, goth bars, and other corpse hangouts—and I think we can all agree that’s sort of wack. Subjectively Sam decided the graveyard was magic despite there being nothing to suggest that.
 

Klaus’ CAT#s:

This is a bit of a special section. I briefly mention Klaus in the intro but I didn’t mention that some of the incidents we’ve heard have been found on the Klaus sheet. The canonicity of these aren’t 100% and I would say the show takes precedent so this is supplemental rather than definitive. I think I’ve more than shown that this theory doesn’t hold up. This is more of an academic exercise.
The big thing to know here is that Kluas’ cases lack headers entirely but that some Klaus cases have notes and it’s these notes attached. It’s only one’s with those notes I’m interested in for this because of how they relate to things we’ve heard. One case is CAT3RBC1567 with the note “tinte”. CAT3RBC1567 is Daria’s case and “tinte” is German for “ink”. So this is very likely that case. There are 4 other cases with that note and they’re two CAT1s, a CAT3, and a CAT13. So even if Daria’s case is misfiled not all of those are the correct CAT# for that assumption. There are also two CAT1s and a CAT2 marked “Herr B”, which is “Mr B” in English. These aren’t tied to a Bonzo case we’ve heard yet but one of them does take place in Bland Theme Park, Somerset. That’s not definitively Bonzo but it’s a good hint at it.
Additionally there are 6 CAT2 cases that have the note “Katzen LOL” or “Cats LOL” which you’d expect to be CAT1s if there are cats involved. In a similar vein there are one CAT1 and five CAT2s marked “Kreigsvolk” which is literally “War People” but more likely “Army” or “Soldiers”. Again, you’d expect more CAT1s if CAT1 is people.
I’m not saying any of the above is the backbone of my reasoning here but these are things that are showing up in the show and they do seem to be pointing the same direction as what I’m saying. Ignoring them entirely I think the theory doesn’t hold up but with them I think it’s very clear.
 

Conclusion

I don’t have much of a wrap up here. Anyone who’s been reading my posts for a while has known that I’ve never thought this theory worked. It’s not something I ever get too deep into because I’m also obviously happy for people to have ideas I disagree with, as am I happy for them to disagree with my ideas. That’s just healthy theorising. I’d been considering writing this for a while though but was mostly held back by not wanting to come across as some sort of arbiter of what is and isn’t correct, and didn’t want to seem like I was calling anyone out specifically. However a few people now said they wanted to see this and there are enough instances of parallel thought on this theory that it’s impossible for me to really single people out now. So here we are.
Just to reiterate for people that did/do believe this theory I don’t think anyone was stupid and/or wrong for thinking it. I hope if the above has convinced you that I’m right about it that you’re not dissuaded from making and sharing future theories. I’ve have 3 or 4 terrible CAT# theories and a few R# theories too. My current ideas on DPHW and R# might be awfully wrong in the long run and that’ll be okay.
That’s me anyway, hope this was at the very least an interesting read if it didn’t manage to be a convincing one. Bonzo! Bonzo!! Bonzo!!!

Hi, I’m bonzos-number-1-fan You might know me from such theories as; "Theory of Fears; or, Zur Furchtlehre", "What R# Means: The ABCs of Fear" or, "Padlocks, How Do They Even Work?".
I’m back with another essay about this show. Today’s subject is a little different from previous ones. Rather than explaining what I think something in this show is, I’ll be explaining what I think it isn’t. What I’m going to be talking about is the very popular theory that CAT1/2/3 means the supernatural aspect is a Person/Place/Object.
Because I’m talking about other people’s ideas here I do want to start off by saying I understand why this theory is attractive and I don’t think anyone is stupid or anything for believing it. I just personally think there are angles from which it doesn’t work and that the sum of them makes it fairly certain to be untrue. I could be very wrong about that, and my other theories, or I could be very right. I don’t think either scenario matters much. This essay isn’t about being right but about talking about a big thing in the community. I just happen to not believe this one and people have signalled interest in hearing why.
So with all that out of the way I’m going to start by establishing the terminology being used. Then I’ll break down what this theory is positing and follow it up with the ways I think it does and doesn’t work. That’s basically it but with 16 episodes and supplemental material to cover it’s still not going to be terribly short.
Huge thanks to @brettanomycroft for proof reading/editing this madness.

Spoilers for The Magnus Protocol up to and including episode 16.

 

What is a CAT#?

A CAT# is the first 4-5 characters of an OIAR's incident report header. While these are not often referenced in the main body of the show, each incident we hear is accompanied by one in the show's description and transcript. As an example this is the case number for the first incident of episode 1.

CAT1RBC5257-12052022-09012024

Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]

The first line is the case number. CAT1 is this incident's CAT#. The RBC (R#/Rank) and 5257 (DPHW) have been topics I've discussed in essays I linked at the start. The second line is the header and is formatted “Section (Subsection) -/- Crosslink [Format]”. CAT#s is all we're concerning ourselves with today but I will be using this terminology going forward.
Now we know what they look like, what is it we know about them? Well, not much at all. From the show itself we know there are CAT1s, CAT2s, CAT3s and CAT23s. From the Klaus excel sheet that was found as part of the ARG (and can be found here) we also know there are CAT12s and CAT13s. With that information we can say with some certainty that CAT1, CAT2, and CAT3 are non-mutually exclusive groupings. It's very likely not a linear scale of some description—i.e CAT23 isn't between CAT2 and CAT3—because CAT13 doesn't fit such a scale. Which means that where there are two numbers in a CAT# that incident likely fits both groups rather than being a new group. This also strongly implies that an incident could be CAT123 although we have yet to see that demonstrated.
We also know that CAT is short for "Category". In the Klaus sheet these numbers are located in the "Kategorie" column. "Kategorie" being German for "category". This unfortunately doesn't tell us anything we didn't already know. CAT#s denote some form of grouping.
There is only one other fact we know about CAT#s and that's this:

ALICE
Right, so, after each entry there's four numbers. That’s the DPHW. So, “dolls comma watching” is… 1157. Then you cross reference with the table here, that would be a 2-C, and then you type that into the box here, along with date of incident if there is one and today’s date.

Which is not a lot to go on at all but it does raise an important question. How is a CAT# assigned? There are two major assumptions you could make here. The first is the “objective method” and that it’s a factor of either the section, subject, DPHW or a combination thereof. This means that they are pre-assigned in the same way that DPHWs are. This method has an inherent trait in that it means every header manifests as the same sort of thing. While it’s not a problem to say that every Doll (Watching) is the same— that could just be the rules of the setting—it does make CAT# itself somewhat redundant. The terminology of the headers will often describe something inherent about the CAT#. We have a CAT3 case that’s Dice (Bone) -/- Fate but dice are objects so why would you need to restate that?
The second is the “subjective method” in which the assessor chooses the CAT# based on the incident itself. The subjective method has a larger assumption built into it in that they know what CAT#s are. They don’t know what DPHW is and have shown no indication of knowing what CAT# is either. So I’d say it’s less likely that CAT#s are subjective rather than objective. However, for the purposes of this essay I will assume that both are as likely to be true as each other and will refer to them both. Different cases show different flaws when one of these is true over the other, so both will get discussed.
 

What is Person/Place/Object?

Person/Place/Object is the theory that the three single digit CAT#s stand for Person, Place, and Object respectively. Combinations of these digits represent that an incident falls into each category. A CAT1 incident indicates that the supernatural element of an incident is a person in some respect, while a CAT23 would indicate both a place and an object.
As I have mentioned this isn’t a theory with a single theorist or origin to point to. As such this theory isn’t a monolith and there is variation in how these categories are presented from theory to theory. Sometimes “Person” is literal and other times it includes any sentient thing, “places” aren’t always strictly physical locations, and the narrative framing of what “objects” are may shift. As such I will be taking the broadest interpretation of these categories as their definitions.
People will include animals and other sentient beings. Places will include metaphysical locations. Objects won’t need to be physical in nature. This is both the fairest I can be to all theories and also the strongest I can make this theory. The broader I can make these definitions, the more different ideas can be represented and the more wiggle room the CAT#s get.
What I’ll do next is run through all the incidents the show has mentioned and explain them as I see it. We’ll start with the ones that fit this theory well because they require little explanation. Then when that’s established we’ll talk about the places I think this theory falls down.
 

Which Incidents fit well?

CAT1:

CAT1RBC5257 Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret: There is something like a zombie in this incident. That’s something like a person and so fits well.
CAT1RB4824 Injury (Needles) -/- Intimidation: Needles is definitely a person, no question there.
CAT1RB2275 Mascot (Kids) -/- Murder: Bonzo walks, “talks”, and probably thinks. He’s a person.
CAT1B4728 Mascot (Kids) -/- Frenzy: Bonzo is still doing that stuff so is still a person.
CAT1RB4426 Transformation (Snake) -/-Horde: There was a person and they turned into snakes. Snakes count as people here too. Given the amount of snakes this is the most CAT1 CAT1.
CAT1RB-6451 Hunt (Aristocratic) -/- Compulsion: Lady M is the most person on this list.
CAT1RB1565 Tattoo (Influencer) -/- Cardiac: Definitely involves a person doing something supernatural.
 

CAT2:

CAT2C8175 Infection (Full Body) -/- Arboreal: This incident takes place in a time and space bending garden. Makes perfect sense for CAT2.
CAT2RB2377 Disappearance (Undetermined) -/- Invitation: A spooky theatre is a location for sure.
 

CAT3:

CAT3RBC1567 Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic: In this instance the object in question is the tattoo. Which I think is really stretching the definition of “object” but I’m still going to give it to the theory.
CAT3C7494 Collection (Blood) -/- Musical: A magical violin is definitely an object.
CAT3RB3354 Dice (Bone) -/- Fate: Bone dice are inarguably objects.
CAT3RB4622 Gambling (Application) -/- Murder: It’s another stretch to call an app an object but, again, happy to give it to the theory.
 

CAT23:

CAT23RAB2155 Transformation (Eyes) -/- Trespass: In this incident’s case the location is the Magnus Institute and the object is the box RedCanary stole. I think there are some problems with this one but there is enough to get through.
 

Which Incidents Don't?

CAT1:

CAT1RBC5257 Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret: You’re not misremembering, I did say this fit well. Because on the surface it really does make sense, but I think if you push just a little it makes very little sense. Why? Because any category you want to place this in is easily justified in the incident itself. There is a zombie-esque thing but also a Frankenstein-esque figure for CAT1. CAT 2 would be the location of the graveyard itself. It was chosen by the presumed creator of this zombie-like creature and is depicted similar to the one in Marked, a CAT23 incident. If this theory is correct and the Marked graveyard is supernatural I can’t see a reason to discount that possibility here. CAT3 fits too because the presumed creation method is that they were Frankenstein-ed which does require some sort of surgical apparatus. But whichever choice you make you’ve not really clarified the incident at all.
This issue is further seen in the methodology of assigning CAT#s.Objectively it has the same problem all objective assignments do. Reanimation implies there is going to be a reanimated person so restating that doesn’t add much. If we look at the subjective method then this is chosen largely at random. There isn’t enough of an indication in this incident to clearly state which CAT this is. So it’s neither helped in the assessment of the incident and doesn’t provide anything for response because all choices are justifiable.
 
CAT1RB4426 Transformation (Snake) -/- Horde: Not misremembering here either. There is a problem with this one in that it’s demonstrated to be an infection. This makes the source of the affliction basically unknowable. The source could qualify it for other CATs but the larger issue here is that what CAT1 means here and what it means elsewhere are not that comparable. Needles, Bonzo, and Lady M are all sentient and independent. The afflicted we see in this case are normal people until they get very rapidly sick, summon a portal to the snake dimension in their throats, and die. Which leaves CAT1 translating to “something in the rough shape of a person” which is a really wide range of interpretations. Which is something I feel has little practical utility in either assessing or responding to these incidents.
 
CAT1RB1565 Tattoo (Influencer) -/- Cardiac: Still not misremembering. While you can say that Ink5oul or Madame E are the person in this instance there is a major conflict here with CAT3RBC1567 Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic. If Daria’s transformation was CAT3 because tattoos are objects then there is no reasonable justification that this isn’t at least CAT13. It’s the same person, doing the same thing, to a very similar result but in a different CAT. The headers are entirely different, and so this/that may be misfiled, but it highlights a problem with Daria’s incident. If the incident with the Tattoo header isn’t an object then tattoos are probably not objects under this scheme.
If this is objective then this is always a person, or on people, which makes a great deal of sense. However if that’s the case then the objective method for Daria’s case sort of falls apart because there wasn’t really a secondary object there. Additionally, because all incidents with that case’s header being objects is a huge stretch. So if this incident, or that incident, is misfiled it doesn’t really matter. In either case (or even if both of them are misfiled), it largely disproves that tattoos are objects, creating a larger issue with that theory as it affects more than just this case. Subjectively as far as we’re aware Sam filed all three of the Ink5oul incidents. So he chose an object in Daria’s case but then opted against it here despite there being no real reason to that we can see. You could say that now Ink5oul has been in it more, he thinks Ink5oul has some sort of supernatural power themselves which makes them a CAT1; that would still make this CAT13 as episode 11 was CAT23.
 

CAT2:

CAT2RC1157 Dolls (Watching): This is a big one in my opinion. It’s not only the first incident we’re told about, but it's both Sam’s and our first exposure to an explanation of the OIAR’s filing system. It’s also one I see ignored in most of the posts that posit the Person/Place/Object theory. That is understandable as we don’t hear the incident itself but we do hear enough of it to show that there is a flaw in the theory.
What we hear about this incident is entirely focused on the doll itself and questions about its nature. It’s a split between Dolls (Watching) and Dolls (Human Skin) with the former being chosen as the latter is only implied. Dolls themselves are objects which would make this CAT3, and if the doll is sentient a CAT1. However, this is placed in CAT2 indicating that it's actually caused by the location in some respect. In order for that to make sense you have to make 3 major assumptions. Assumption 1: despite no indication in the conversation about this incident suggesting anything outside of the doll being strange there was actually a “haunted house”. Assumption 2: despite there being sections far more descriptive of locations—i.e Architecture—Dolls is more suited to this incident. Assumption 3: despite this being Sam’s/the audience’s first exposure to this system it leaves out the real source of the incident when, narratively, this is an explanation of it. Those are some fairly major assumptions to make to justify a theory.
This also has issues with either method of assigning CAT#s. If CAT# is objective then every Dolls (Watching) is actually a location. Unlike with something like Reanimation (Partial) that doesn't make much sense as dolls themselves are objects. In the subjective method, Alice assigned this as a location but their discussion of it centred solely on an object and she didn't explain to Sam why she did it.
 
CAT2RC3338 Agglomeration (Miscellany) -/- Congregation: This might be my favourite example of issues I have with this theory. To explain it we’ll look at this from both the objective and subjective methods while taking into account outside knowledge of the show from an audience perspective.
Everyone I’ve seen posit this theory attributes CAT2 to Hilltop here.They do this solely because of TMA. There is nothing in this episode that makes Hilltop out to be anything special in any way. But because Hilltop is special in TMA the audience is primed to view this location as special. It may very well be but there is no reason to think that. In fact, I’d argue there's reason to think otherwise based on this episode, but that is a little off topic for this essay. However from an objective perspective it can’t take Hilltop into account because not every header of this sort will take place in Hilltop. They could only manifest at special locations but that seems like a stretch. If it is true, why does this unique combination of words not include a word that describes it as a location? Subjectively it could be a misfile. Celia would be the only person who knows what Hilltop is in TMA— assuming some of the theories on her are correct—but that doesn’t make Hilltop important in and of itself. It also means she ignored large parts of this incident when filing it just to focus on that element. As this case is the one Alice uses to teach Celia the system with, then this also relies on Alice knowing or not correcting Celia. In either scenario this case is full of people of definite supernatural quality, lacks a location of supernatural quality, but has 100s of objects of dubious supernatural quality. Something doesn’t make sense here if this theory is correct.
 
CAT2RBC3366 Architecture (Liminal) -/- Hunger: This one is interesting because it shows a flaw not in the theory per se but in the methodology as a whole if the theory is correct. If CAT# is what the theory says it is why is this just CAT2? It being CAT2 at all is redundant when its header describes a location but in this incident we see it’s populated by supernatural creatures. I call them Uncannybals—as should you—and they’re monsters living in the shadow realm. That seems like very important information to include. So it should be CAT12 as there are both people and a place. The OIAR methodology already has the problem that you can’t include multiple headers but CAT#s, if they worked like this, could be used to alleviate that issue. The way it’s implemented here just makes it virtually pointless to include at all.
 

CAT3:

CAT3RBC1567 Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic: This was largely already covered. So simply put if Transformation (Full) -/- Dysmorphic is an object because of the tattoo, and Tattoo (Corpse) -/- Compulsion is an object because of the tattoo, but Tattoo (Influencer) -/- Cardiac isn’t an object despite being virtually identical to this case then CAT3 doesn't mean object.
The method problems are the same as above too. Now this case is the one most likely of the three to be misfiled. So you could say that Daria's case is misfiled and would actually be CAT1 if filed correctly. Tattoos aren’t objects, this case is a mistake. Then you could explain that Marked is CAT23 because corpses are objects (so 13 if he was alive). Objectively this header always being CAT3 still poses problems because we know there are Transformations that don’t require objects. Which brings us back to the problem of “why are the headers so bad at describing these things?”. If it’s subjective Sam decided that object instead of person made more sense here. Seemingly based on the fact that there is a tattoo. Later on he changed his mind about this but choosing it in the first place seems like a stretch. If he knew what these things meant in order to choose them, object seems like a very unobvious choice.
 

CAT23:

CAT23RC5246 Tattoo (Corpse) -/- Compulsion: This one is fairly clear to me. I’m going to be very generous and suggest that the corpse here is the object based on the above. The reason this one is a problem is that there wasn’t a location here. I’ve seen people say that it must be the graveyard but that’s confirmation bias IMO. It wasn’t a large feature of the episode, didn’t do anything coastal graveyards don’t do, and had no overt supernatural properties to it. I don’t personally think anyone would categorise this as CAT23 based on the incident alone but because CAT23 people will justify it to fit. That’s not inherently a problem because sometimes you have to make assumptions but given all of the above I don’t think that assumption is a reasonable one to make.
Objectively all compelling corpse tattoos are found in magical graveyards—or morgues, tombs, goth bars, and other corpse hangouts—and I think we can all agree that’s sort of wack. Subjectively Sam decided the graveyard was magic despite there being nothing to suggest that.
 

Klaus’ CAT#s:

This is a bit of a special section. I briefly mention Klaus in the intro but I didn’t mention that some of the incidents we’ve heard have been found on the Klaus sheet. The canonicity of these aren’t 100% and I would say the show takes precedent so this is supplemental rather than definitive. I think I’ve more than shown that this theory doesn’t hold up. This is more of an academic exercise.
The big thing to know here is that Kluas’ cases lack headers entirely but that some Klaus cases have notes and it’s these notes attached. It’s only one’s with those notes I’m interested in for this because of how they relate to things we’ve heard. One case is CAT3RBC1567 with the note “tinte”. CAT3RBC1567 is Daria’s case and “tinte” is German for “ink”. So this is very likely that case. There are 4 other cases with that note and they’re two CAT1s, a CAT3, and a CAT13. So even if Daria’s case is misfiled not all of those are the correct CAT# for that assumption. There are also two CAT1s and a CAT2 marked “Herr B”, which is “Mr B” in English. These aren’t tied to a Bonzo case we’ve heard yet but one of them does take place in Bland Theme Park, Somerset. That’s not definitively Bonzo but it’s a good hint at it.
Additionally there are 6 CAT2 cases that have the note “Katzen LOL” or “Cats LOL” which you’d expect to be CAT1s if there are cats involved. In a similar vein there are one CAT1 and five CAT2s marked “Kreigsvolk” which is literally “War People” but more likely “Army” or “Soldiers”. Again, you’d expect more CAT1s if CAT1 is people.
I’m not saying any of the above is the backbone of my reasoning here but these are things that are showing up in the show and they do seem to be pointing the same direction as what I’m saying. Ignoring them entirely I think the theory doesn’t hold up but with them I think it’s very clear.
 

Conclusion

I don’t have much of a wrap up here. Anyone who’s been reading my posts for a while has known that I’ve never thought this theory worked. It’s not something I ever get too deep into because I’m also obviously happy for people to have ideas I disagree with, as am I happy for them to disagree with my ideas. That’s just healthy theorising. I’d been considering writing this for a while though but was mostly held back by not wanting to come across as some sort of arbiter of what is and isn’t correct, and didn’t want to seem like I was calling anyone out specifically. However a few people now said they wanted to see this and there are enough instances of parallel thought on this theory that it’s impossible for me to really single people out now. So here we are.
Just to reiterate for people that did/do believe this theory I don’t think anyone was stupid and/or wrong for thinking it. I hope if the above has convinced you that I’m right about it that you’re not dissuaded from making and sharing future theories. I’ve have 3 or 4 terrible CAT# theories and a few R# theories too. My current ideas on DPHW and R# might be awfully wrong in the long run and that’ll be okay.
That’s me anyway, hope this was at the very least an interesting read if it didn’t manage to be a convincing one. Bonzo! Bonzo!! Bonzo!!!

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Tom took another look at the dwindling encampment as his dismay began to fade away. "Whoever's left to hang out with are the most committed to the cause" he thought to himself. "If anything, I'll have more fun than I did before." And after all, they had a good lineup of activists scheduled to visit in the next few days, and an anarchist band had even agreed to play this afternoon. He had definitely noticed a rapid drop in the number of campers since the end of the semester, and had even begun to doubt that they would be able to get any sort of concessions out of the university. But his thinking had changed after hearing the speeches that morning.
First to speak was Tom's friend and comrade, Eric. His impassioned indictment of the Israeli government reminded Tom of the importance of their activism. Then came the married grad students, the Trotskyist Abdou and the pan-Arabist Farida. They were international students studying English and anthropology, respectively. Or was it anthropology and sociology? Abdou lectured on the university's connection to the military-industrial complex. His speech was filled with threats to the administration that Tom was sure the limp-dicked Trot had no means of fulfilling. Even so, he had to admit that despite all his other inadequacies, Abdou was a powerful speaker. Finally came Farida. Tom had always considered her the best speaker of them all, but frankly he had a hard time taking his eyes off her whether she was speaking or not. He had tried flirting with her before, and he got the feeling that Abdou was even more into it than she was. Thinking about it now, he couldn't quite remember what her speech had been about, but it had certainly improved his spirits.
As the "Bacon Brigade" began setting up their instruments, Tom decided to make a point of dancing with Farida that afternoon. As the average tent now held two campers rather than five, he even thought he might get a chance to enjoy some of the newfound privacy.
...
When there was a break in the music, Tom sauntered over to the table where Abdou was sitting. As an ML, Tom could hardly stand Trotskyists, but he put on a smile for the sake of "left unity."
"She's a good dancer isn't she?" said Abdou.
"Oh yes, the best," agreed Tom. He was trying to think of a way of progressing his slow seduction of this Muslim woman and decided to be bold. "Look Abdou, the band will be winding down soon, why don't you both come back to my tent and I'll show you some comradely hospitality. I also have some suggestions that I know you'll love."
Abdou's mind was racing with the possibilities of the situation. Would this be the chance to see his wife seduced and taken by this big stud? Supposing Farida won't agree? Before he could engage his brain Abdou found himself agreeing to Tom's offer. "Wonderful, wonderful," beamed Tom and he could feel his big cock twitch at the thought of bedding Abdou's beautiful wife.
Just then Farida reappeared. "What are you two talking about?" she said.
Before Abdou could say a word, Tom said "Well my dear, your husband has kindly accepted my invitation of hospitality at my tent."
Farida didn't know what to say. She had thought Abdou would whisk her off back to the hotel and give her the fucking she desperately needed. Rubbing up against Tom's manhood had taken its toll. "Well I suppose we could come and see where you camp," she said, "but we mustn't stay too late must we Abdou?"
"What? I err no, I suppose not," stammered Abdou as Tom rose and offered Farida his arm.
And the three of them found themselves heading off to tent where the lives of Abdou and Farida would be changed forever. As they walked along Abdou held one of Farida's arms and Tom the other. However, after a while Abdou consciously let go of his wife's arm and stepped behind Tom.
This was not lost on the big white and he put his big protective arm around Abdou's wife as if to say to everyone "she's mine." If Farida hadn't been so dazed by the afternoon's events, she might have noticed various other white students smiling at Tom with knowing grins. They had recognized the situation immediately; a Muslim couple with cuckold husband following on as a big powerful white man led the wife to his cot.
Soon they reached Tom's tent and both Abdou and Farida were pleasantly surprised at how spacious it was. "Let me get you some coffee," said Tom as both Abdou and Farida collapsed onto a big sleeping bag.
Having sorted the drinks, Tom put some music on, and crawling over to Farida he said, "Can we have another dance Farida, you're such a good dancer?"
Before Farida could answer she felt her husband pushing her up. "Go on Farida, you know how much you enjoy it."
Abdou secretly wanted to see his wife in the arms of this Adonis again and who knows maybe more. Having no real reason to object, Farida agreed and as she accepted Toms hand she couldn't help but feel a shiver at the thought of being reacquainted with his penis, albeit covered by his trousers. However, as they left the tent she had a suspicion that he wasn't wearing any under garments since his penis had seemed so clearly outlined earlier.
As he clasped her to himself Tom could feel his big cock twitch once again. He moved one hand down to the small of her back, just to test the waters and meeting no resistance after another minute or so he moved his hand onto her sexy bottom. He could feel through the thin dress that Farida wasn't wearing thick pants, or perhaps only very skimpy ones and he couldn't wait to see her naked.
Farida felt lost in a different world as she circled round with this big man. Not only could she feel his penis growing hard against her once more, but she felt his big hand on her bottom pulling her onto his hardness. When she looked at her husband (still sitting in the tent), she noticed that he was just rubbing his own penis through his trousers. "My goodness," she thought, "he's getting turned on watching us. Supposing I flirt a bit more and show him what he's missing?"
With that Farida deliberately started to open her legs and let Tom's muscular leg rub against her inflamed sex.
This change in Farida's demeanor was not lost on Tom. As he led her back to the tent, he let his hands roam all over the back of this sexy hijabi Muslim wife and he leaned down to kiss and nibble her neck and ears. He heard Farida sigh and knew that he was close to capturing this sexy wife. "Fatima, let's give Abdou a show to remember shall we?"
Farida was brought back from her dreamlike state by Tom's question. "What do you mean?" she asked.
Almost in a whisper Tom said, "You know, a bit of thesis-antithesis-synthesis."
He had already found the zipper that ran down the back of Farida's dress and he had it in his hands as he spoke to her. He slowly started to pull the zipper down and it was half way down her back before Farida realised what was happening. "Wait Tom, we can't do this, I'm married."
"So what of it, Abdou wants me to undress you, don't you Abdou?"
Abdou had no hesitation in replying in the affirmative. This is what he had wanted for so long.
Caught in the confusion and surprise of hearing her husband say that he wanted to see another man, undress her, Farida just lay there while Tom pulled the zipper right down and then eased the dress off her shoulders. Suddenly she realised that she was lying in only her stockings, garter belt, and thong panties.
As she looked up at Tom she saw something that she hadn't seen in a man for years and that was undisguised lust. This man was lusting after her, this married women! She should have felt ashamed at her feelings but she didn't. Having got half-naked, she realised that she was enjoying the attention of this muscular white man. In fact she decided to crawl around in front of him as if to say 'look at what my husband has and you haven't'.
This might have been a foolish act, but it merely served to confirm what both men knew. For Tom it confirmed that Farida was absolutely gorgeous, the sexiest Muslim woman he had ever seen and that she needed to be loved sexually. For Abdou as he fingered his painfully erect cock, he knew that he was just a few steps away from pushing his wife into a sleeping bag with another man. He was close to realizing his fantasy.
Tom pulled Farida to him, lifted her face to his and he kissed her. Farida would always remember that first kiss since it was both passionate but more significantly the precursor to her crossing a line that could not be re- crossed, and to setting in motion events that would last her and her husband a lifetime. She accepted his big tongue into her mouth and her tongue fenced with his. She could feel his big hands roaming all over body now.
In her trance-like state it seemed quite natural that Tom should start to remove his clothing. Both Farida and Abdou watched as the big man removed his shirt to reveal a hugely-muscled chest and then he dropped his trousers and just as Farida had suspected he wore no underwear. His big cock reared up in all is magnificence and Tom was gratified to hear both husband and wife express surprise at his size.
Tom crawled over to the sleeping bag where Farida was sitting and crouched in front of her, his big cock semi erect. He remembered that Eric had told him that the cops were closing in, and he knew he would have to move quickly if he wanted to finish before they cleared the encampment. Farida's head was at the same level as the big man's groin and she was amazed at the whole size and muscularity of this man. Her trance-like state was broken by Tom who said softly "Take my cock into your mouth."
Farida was aghast, "I can't! It's dirty and I've never done that before."
Tom laughed to himself. This wife was indeed naive and yet he was gratified that he would be the first man to have his cock sucked by her. Lifting her face so that she could look into his eyes, Tom said, "As we hear from German ideologists, Germany has in the last few years gone through an unparalleled revolution. The decomposition of the Hegelian philosophy, which began with Strauss, has developed into a universal ferment into which all the “powers of the past” are swept. In the general chaos mighty empires have arisen only to meet with immediate doom, heroes have emerged momentarily only to be hurled back into obscurity by bolder and stronger rivals. It was a revolution beside which the French Revolution was child’s play, a world struggle beside which the struggles of the Diadochi [successors of Alexander the Great] appear insignificant. Principles ousted one another, heroes of the mind overthrew each other with unheard-of rapidity, and in the three years 1842-45 more of the past was swept away in Germany than at other times in three centuries.
"All this is supposed to have taken place in the realm of pure thought.
"Certainly it is an interesting event we are dealing with: the putrescence of the absolute spirit. When the last spark of its life had failed, the various components of this caput mortuum began to decompose, entered into new combinations and formed new substances. The industrialists of philosophy, who till then had lived on the exploitation of the absolute spirit, now seized upon the new combinations. Each with all possible zeal set about retailing his apportioned share. This naturally gave rise to competition, which, to start with, was carried on in moderately staid bourgeois fashion. Later when the German market was glutted, and the commodity in spite of all efforts found no response in the world market, the business was spoiled in the usual German manner by fabricated and fictitious production, deterioration in quality, adulteration of the raw materials, falsification of labels, fictitious purchases, bill-jobbing and a credit system devoid of any real basis. The competition turned into a bitter struggle, which is now being extolled and interpreted to us as a revolution of world significance, the begetter of the most prodigious results and achievements.
"If we wish to rate at its true value this philosophic charlatanry, which awakens even in the breast of the honest German citizen a glow of national pride, if we wish to bring out clearly the pettiness, the parochial narrowness of this whole Young-Hegelian movement and in particular the tragicomic contrast between the illusions of these heroes about their achievements and the actual achievements themselves, we must look at the whole spectacle from a standpoint beyond the frontiers of Germany.
"Ideology in General, German Ideology in Particular: German criticism has, right up to its latest efforts, never quitted the realm of philosophy. Far from examining its general philosophic premises, the whole body of its inquiries has actually sprung from the soil of a definite philosophical system, that of Hegel. Not only in their answers but in their very questions there was a mystification. This dependence on Hegel is the reason why not one of these modern critics has even attempted a comprehensive criticism of the Hegelian system, however much each professes to have advanced beyond Hegel. Their polemics against Hegel and against one another are confined to this – each extracts one side of the Hegelian system and turns this against the whole system as well as against the sides extracted by the others. To begin with they extracted pure unfalsified Hegelian categories such as “substance” and “self-consciousness,” later they desecrated these categories with more secular names such as species “the Unique,” “Man,” etc.
"The entire body of German philosophical criticism from Strauss to Stirner is confined to criticism of religious conceptions. [The following passage is crossed out in the manuscript:] claiming to be the absolute redeemer of the world from all evil. Religion was continually regarded and treated as the arch-enemy, as the ultimate cause of all relations repugnant to these philosophers. The critics started from real religion and actual theology. What religious consciousness and a religious conception really meant was determined variously as they went along. Their advance consisted in subsuming the allegedly dominant metaphysical, political, juridical, moral and other conceptions under the class of religious or theological conceptions; and similarly in pronouncing political, juridical, moral consciousness as religious or theological, and the political, juridical, moral man – “man” in the last resort – as religious. The dominance of religion was taken for granted. Gradually every dominant relationship was pronounced a religious relationship and transformed into a cult, a cult of law, a cult of the State, etc. On all sides it was only a question of dogmas and belief in dogmas. The world was sanctified to an ever-increasing extent till at last our venerable Saint Max was able to canonise it en bloc and thus dispose of it once for all.
"The Old Hegelians had comprehended everything as soon as it was reduced to an Hegelian logical category. The Young Hegelians criticised everything by attributing to it religious conceptions or by pronouncing it a theological matter. The Young Hegelians are in agreement with the Old Hegelians in their belief in the rule of religion, of concepts, of a universal principle in the existing world. Only, the one party attacks this dominion as usurpation, while the other extols it as legitimate.
"Since the Young Hegelians consider conceptions, thoughts, ideas, in fact all the products of consciousness, to which they attribute an independent existence, as the real chains of men (just as the Old Hegelians declared them the true bonds of human society) it is evident that the Young Hegelians have to fight only against these illusions of consciousness. Since, according to their fantasy, the relationships of men, all their doings, their chains and their limitations are products of their consciousness, the Young Hegelians logically put to men the moral postulate of exchanging their present consciousness for human, critical or egoistic consciousness, and thus of removing their limitations. This demand to change consciousness amounts to a demand to interpret reality in another way, i.e. to recognise it by means of another interpretation. The Young-Hegelian ideologists, in spite of their allegedly “world-shattering" statements, are the staunchest conservatives. The most recent of them have found the correct expression for their activity when they declare they are only fighting against “phrases.” They forget, however, that to these phrases they themselves are only opposing other phrases, and that they are in no way combating the real existing world when they are merely combating the phrases of this world. The only results which this philosophic criticism could achieve were a few (and at that thoroughly one-sided) elucidations of Christianity from the point of view of religious history; all the rest of their assertions are only further embellishments of their claim to have furnished, in these unimportant elucidations, discoveries of universal importance.
"It has not occurred to any one of these philosophers to inquire into the connection of German philosophy with German reality, the relation of their criticism to their own material surroundings.
"First Premises of Materialist Method: The premises from which we begin are not arbitrary ones, not dogmas, but real premises from which abstraction can only be made in the imagination. They are the real individuals, their activity and the material conditions under which they live, both those which they find already existing and those produced by their activity. These premises can thus be verified in a purely empirical way.
"The first premise of all human history is, of course, the existence of living human individuals. Thus the first fact to be established is the physical organisation of these individuals and their consequent relation to the rest of nature. Of course, we cannot here go either into the actual physical nature of man, or into the natural conditions in which man finds himself – geological, hydrographical, climatic and so on. The writing of history must always set out from these natural bases and their modification in the course of history through the action of men.
"Men can be distinguished from animals by consciousness, by religion or anything else you like. They themselves begin to distinguish themselves from animals as soon as they begin to produce their means of subsistence, a step which is conditioned by their physical organisation. By producing their means of subsistence men are indirectly producing their actual material life.
"The way in which men produce their means of subsistence depends first of all on the nature of the actual means of subsistence they find in existence and have to reproduce. This mode of production must not be considered simply as being the production of the physical existence of the individuals. Rather it is a definite form of activity of these individuals, a definite form of expressing their life, a definite mode of life on their part. As individuals express their life, so they are. What they are, therefore, coincides with their production, both with what they produce and with how they produce. The nature of individuals thus depends on the material conditions determining their production.
"This production only makes its appearance with the increase of population. In its turn this presupposes the intercourse [Verkehr] of individuals with one another. The form of this intercourse is again determined by production.
[continues in comment]

Credit to u/SpacePaladin15 for the NOP Universe.
Hey, I hope everyone's doing well!
Today we return to the namesake of this fic, an actual lesson about animals. This one focuses on Koalas! One of Australia's most recognisable critters. I hope you enjoy.
It's hardly worth mentioning, seeing as I'm an infrequent poster at the best of times, but I'll not have another chapter out for a few weeks due to limited free time and devoting most of my writing time to an upcoming ficnapping. Be sure to look out for that!
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Memory transcription subject: Rysel, Venlil Environmental Researcher
Date [Standardised human time]: 8th September 2136
“Koalas!”
Bernard’s energised voice boomed through the air as the classroom's monitor flickered into life, images of this paws lecture topic popping up one after the other until the entire screen was filled with a collage of furry quadrupeds.
Squee! I’ll never get tired of this, it’s all so cool!
As usual the sight of something new stirred immediate discussion, hushed murmurs swelling into vibrant discourse in little more than a heartbeat. Most of the class swiftly huddled together into small herds to bounce ideas around while the rest opted to stick to the solace of their own thoughts as they took in the display.
I’d be quite happy in either situation, though seeing as Sandi had already sunk into deep concentration and Kailo had peeled off to talk with Ennerif and Solenk, it seemed the decision had been made for me on this occasion. Wasting no more time on idle inspection of the people around me, I focused my full attention forward, eager to form first impressions before the lesson began in earnest.
Now then, time to make some educated guesses. What traits does this animal have? I wonder if I’ll get any right this paw?
Professional assumptions went paw-in-paw with the lectures, examining and coming up with hypotheses about the specimens was only natural. Recently however, I’d started to make a little game of it to make things even more interesting than usual. A veritable bonfire of ideas had been set ablaze within me, fueled by my newfound knowledge of Earthen wildlife. Every flash and spark of the flame was a fresh theory I could try to apply to the lectures. It was an invigorating exercise that further stoked my unceasing wonderment.
So far I’d only done this once during the previous class and, to my disappointment, I’d not done too well.
I was right when I guessed that chickens were omnivores, but wrong in my assumption that they could fly. And that red thing on their head, the um… what was it called? The comb! Yes, the comb. I thought that was to attract mates, but it regulates body heat instead. It’s fascinating. Oh! Stars damn it I’m rambling!
I bapped my tail against my leg, the soft thud being just enough to snap me back from my runaway thoughts before I went completely wall-eyed. I was becoming more and more accustomed to getting lost in my own head while remaining conscious of the fact; it was happening so frequently now that it was pretty much impossible not to. Now I was able to pull myself back to the world around me without having to rely on someone else shaking me out of it. Most of the time anyway.
Sandi still keeps an eye on me, and Kailo even decided to help out once without being too snide about it. Anyway where was I? Oh yeah, Koalas.
Glancing at the furred animals, two things immediately stood out. Firstly, their eyes were in a more central position on their face. And second, all the images showed them being on or close to trees. There were other noteworthy observations of course, such as the Koala’s prominent nose and rounded features, but they fell to the wayside as I honed in on these points first.
Hmmm… ok. I already know to discount the idea that they’re predators just from eye position, so let’s get that thought out of here. Maybe omnivorous? Herbivore? Agh no, I can’t just guess that for the sake of guessing, that’s the same problem! Hrm, it’s tough making these assumptions now that everything I thought I knew has been turned on its head.
Nevermind, I’ll focus on the other thing. All the trees make me think they’re arboreal, that seems to be a reasonable assumption. I wonder what else they-
Clearing his throat, Bernard broke my concentration, his call for attention silencing the murmuring conversation and redirecting everyone's focus to the lecturer's podium.
His gaze panned across the room as he waited for everyone to settle, a beaming smile lighting up his face, “As ever I’m delighted to see you all get so into the subject matter from the get go. I’m looking forward to hearing what you were discussing should you wish to share. For now though, how about we get started, hm?”
A chorus of merry bleats rang out from across the audience, ears and tails flicking happily in agreement. Bernard's grin grew in tandem with the class's fervour, clasping his hands together enthusiastically as he launched into the lesson, “Excellent! Then let’s get started.”
The pictures on screen dissolved away until only one remained, enlarging to cover the entire monitor with the fluffy grey face of a Koala peacefully reclining in the crook of a tree.
“Ah, there we are,” Bernard’s baritone timbre drifted through the room as he looked up at the image, his own tone reflecting the relaxed attitude of the animal on screen, “He looks so comfortable doesn’t he? Perfectly at peace with the world, not too surprising considering they sleep almost 20 hours a day. A full paw!”
A wave of beeps and gasps rippled through the herd, punctuated by a single yawn-dressed comment from Rova, “A full paw? Hwuuu… jealous.”
Her drowsy remark elicited several whistling giggles from the herd, Bernard's own jovial chortle joining them as he turned to face her, “Late evening Rova?”
I twisted a little in my seat, panning an eye in Rova’s direction just in time to see her bleary eyes bulge open and her ears shoot up, now intensely aware of the fact she hadn’t been as quiet as she thought she had.
Sitting up abruptly, she hastily tapped down errant tufts of wool that’d flared in surprise as she composed herself, though her nervousness at becoming the centre of the class's attention was still plain for all to hear, “Uh- I um… achem, a little bit yes, um- …sorry. Lokki dragged me out to a movie viewing in the rec centre. It went on pretty late.”
A melodramatic bray from the other side of the room drew everyone's ears away from Rova to the now aghast Lokki, paw splayed across his chest in faux indignation, “Dragged you? Well excuse me for trying to broaden your horizons with human movies. That’ll be the list time I- …Ahaaaa…”
Lokki’s theatrics were cut short by a heavy yawn of his own, a swell of whistling laughter rolling through the herd as vibrant bloom lit up his snout, a sight that elicited a particularly amused bleat from Rova.
Turning away from the duo I looked back at Bernard, pleased to see that he was chuckling along with us. Behaviour like Lokki’s would never have been tolerated in my school and university days but, in stark contrast, Bernard revelled in it, the liveliness of his students fueling his own bombastic style of teaching. It was a pleasant change of pace having a teacher who let us all be ourselves in class; provided we weren’t too disruptive to the lesson plan.
Speaking of which.
His laughter still rumbling through the air, Bernard clapped his hands to pull everyone's focus back to him, “Ok, ok, let’s get back to it then shall we? Rova. Lokki. Hopefully the two of you can stay awake long enough until you can grab yourselves a coffee.”
As the class settled down and the last few giggling beeps petered out, Benard pointed a hand to the screen, “So, the Koala. Let’s start simple shall we? They are herbivorous marsupials native to the eastern and southern coasts of Australia. Easily recognised the world over, they are a well known and beloved symbol of their homeland, along with other animals such as the Kangaroo and the Emu. The former of which you might remember from one of our earlier lectures.”
Indeed I did remember, along with how angry Bernard had gotten after some speh-head had derided the Yotul after he explained how he held specific disdain for such attitudes.
Uuuggghh… I never want to see him angry again. So chilling.
I shook my ears in an effort to dismiss the unpleasant memory, panning my eyes back to the monitor to try and distract myself by inspecting the Koala’s physical appearance once more. Thankfully, by some Star's blessed intervention, Bernard had the exact same idea.
“Koala’s are rather squat in stature, ranging around sixty to eighty-five centimetres in length and weighing little more than fifteen to sixteen kilograms at their full size. As you can see, the fur of this fellow before you is a lovely silvery grey, but their fur can also sport a chocolaty brown hue as well. Arguably the most distinctive part of their appearance is their head, being rather large for their body size and having rounded ears, a large nose, and a pair of small eyes. These are often brown but variations do occur.”
It didn’t slip past my notice that Bernard didn’t bother to point out that the Koala’s eyes were forward facing. I didn’t think he’d simply forgotten, so perhaps he just felt it wasn’t necessary given that he’d already stated it was herbivorous. Either way, no one stuck up a paw or tail to question him.
“Now this will hardly be surprising considering how long they sleep, but Koala’s are largely sedentary and it’s rather easy to see why when you have a look into the contents of their diet.”
With the press of a button the Koala on screen was replaced by images of vibrant green vegetation. Soaring trees and flowering shrubbery weaved together across landscape framed pictures pulled admiring trills from the herd, the diversity of the plant life being shown standing as a reminder that it wasn’t only animal life that flourished on Earth.
After giving everyone the chance to take in the picturesque scenes, Bernard casually hammered that point home, “This is eucalyptus or, more accurately, a choice selection of more than 700 plants belonging to the eucalyptus genus, though the Koala itself favours 30 of them in particular.”
700!? Stars…
Realising that my ears had drooped in my momentary awe, I twisted them back to tune into the lesson, only for them to splay out in shock at the next words to come out of Bernard's mouth.
“The leaves of these plants are the primary food source of the Koala and there are a couple things worth mentioning when talking about these plants. For starters they do not have much nutritional or caloric value, leading to the Koala’s low-energy lifestyle. Additionally, they contain toxic compounds.”
A shiver instantly ran through the herd, ears flicking rapidly in confusion and alarm followed by a few quizzical whispers. It didn’t take long for someone to decide to give a proper voice to the murmuring.
“Excuse me Doctor. Did we hear that right? Their diet is made up of toxic flora?” Vlek’s grumbling incredulity cut through the herd's mutterings with ease. Until Kailo’s recent change of heart, the fifty something rotation old blonde Venlil had been a close second in terms of scepticism. Mercifully his rebuttals had always been relevant questions as opposed to ranting diatribes, so he at least remained on topic if nothing else.
Bernard nodded in confirmation, smiling back at Vlek while absentmindedly twirling the end of his moustache, “You heard me right, they do indeed consume plants that are toxic. Just not to them.”
Any worry or uncertainty still clinging to the herd was swept away by the provision of the glaringly obvious answer, leaving me chuckling inwardly at the oversight.
Ah of course! The plant might be poisonous but they’ll have evolved to deal with that. Stars… I’m so used to expecting the unexpected with Earth that I didn’t even consider the simplest solution.
“I see, thank you Doctor,” Vlek replied, a tinge of interest still audible in his tone, “I assume they’ve developed some adaptation to become immune to the harmful effects?”
The question immediately evoked a smirk from our teacher, but he hurriedly suppressed it while bobbing his head, “They have indeed. There are several factors that aid in their digestion of eucalyptus leaves without succumbing to the plant's baleful properties. The first is a part of the intestinal tract called the cecum. It contains a microbiome that allows the Koala to digest the eucalyptus. Coupled with this is an enzyme in the Koala’s liver that helps them break down the toxins. They are also capable of sniffing out the plants with the least amount of toxins, ensuring that they ingest as little as possible.”
Pausing for a breath Bernard looked back at the screen before turning to face us, another grin curling at the edges of his mouth as he continued with his explanation, “This is mostly for adult Koala’s, because while their young also possess these same adaptations, they don’t just go straight to munching through foliage right after being born. No, they need a little help making that jump and getting a stomach full of all that good gut bacteria. It’s nothing bad, but those of a sensitive stomach may wish to prepare themselves for this next part.”
Bernard’s assurances did little to assuage the concern that his warning had foisted upon us. Having been exposed to so much of the weirdness Earth had to offer everyone always ended up on edge whenever Bernard gave advice like this, even if he did say it in jest.
What strange nonsense thing do Koala pups do then? Judging by the way he’s acting it probably isn’t something as simple as drinking milk from the mother. Hmmm…
“So,” Bernard began, snapping us from our pensive stupor, “Young Koala’s, known as joeys, have a gestation period of thirty-five days on average, which is approximately forty-two paws. Once born they travel from the birth canal to a pouch in their mother so that they can continue to develop and grow. In the pouch the joey finds and latches onto one of two teats and these provide the newborn with a steady stream of nourishing milk. It spends the next six to seven months growing in the pouch, its eyes, ears, and fur all developing as time goes on.”
Okay, interesting. But this is exactly how I thought it’d go. What’s different?
The unexpected normalcy of the Koala’s birth and growth cycle had calmed everyone's nerves, only to be replaced with an air of suspicion as we waited with rapt attention for Bernard to drop the other claw and upend our expectations like he always did.
Not wanting to keep us in further suspense he forged ahead, the tempo of his voice picking up as the smile started to crease his face once more, “Now to make the switch from milk to eucalyptus, the mother also feeds the joey a substance called pap. It comes from the cecum I mentioned earlier, and contains all the gut bacteria required to help the young Koala in making the switch to eucalyptus.”
He stopped and looked around, searching us for a reaction to what I felt was a rather bland statement of fact. What was it he was saying without actually saying? Koala pups drink milk to mature and then include this pap substance so that they can start eating plants. I don’t see what-
The cecum is part of the intestine.
I blinked.
I blinked again, the intrusive interruption scouring my brain clean of any other thought bar the one it’d just implanted itself in the forefront of my mind.
Oh stars. They-
“They eat their own poop!?”
The shocked bleat shattered the peace of the room to reveal that most if not all of us had come to the same tail curling conclusion. As the hall filled with unrestrained vocalisations of disgust, an ‘Ugh’ over here and a ‘Blegh’ over there, Bernard’s own bellowing laughter joined the throng of voices.
“Ha! Everytime! Each and every time. Clearly it doesn’t matter if my students are Human or Venlil. Whenever someone learns about the Koala’s dietary development the reaction is the same!”
Pleased with himself beyond reason, Bernard chuckled away while the rest of us grappled with this ghastly reality. While there were plenty of animals that feasted on things that ranged from simply unappealing all the way to the stomach churningly grotesque, I’d never heard of an animal that actively consumed the excrement of its own species. Benefits aside, the prospect of having to do that to survive to adulthood sent a shiver of revulsion down my spine.
Ewww… Stars, I hope I forget this feeling by 2nd meal. They’re serving sturen and magamroot stew later. I was really looking forward to it.
With the herds mood beginning to temper Bernard tapped the podiums controls, removing the verdant collage of eucalyptus to display several similar yet distinct environments, still chortling merrily to himself in the process, “Ok then, with that little foray into their diet complete, why don’t we look at their habitat in more detail? As you might imagine given their diet and arboreal nature, Koala’s live in forested regions, and can be found in tropical and temperate zones. About a century ago they were classed as a vulnerable species, however efforts were made to turn this around and increase their numbers. Sadly the largest factor in their decline was human activity, as the fertile lands that gave rise to their bountiful forests were coveted farm land for our settlements.”
It was strange to hear Bernard so matter of factly admit to humanity's negative impacts on other species. He’d alluded to such things in the past but always with an air of caution, carefully pawing the line between honestly answering a question while not painting humanity as uncaring and destructive. AKA, the ‘predators’ we’d all initially expected them to be.
Perhaps his comfort in making such admissions was a reflection of the class's comfort with him, for no one so much as batted an ear. Even Kailo, who I would’ve expected to jump at the chance to use this as a prime example of predatory danger, only flicked an ear in stern yet silent concern.
A cough from Bernard drew my attention back, a new picture on screen that showed a forest from a bird's-eye view. Drawn across the image were around a dozen ringed areas, some bordering one another while others overlapped to some degree. It took me a moment, but I soon recognised that what I was looking at was a map, the rings representing what I assumed to be territories. And it didn’t take much effort to guess who each one belonged to.
“From habitats we move onto behaviours, so let’s start with territories. Koala’s are solitary animals. Yes, despite being herbivores. Considering they’re only awake for roughly four hours of the day I can hardly blame them. Lots to do and not a lot of time to do it. Jokes aside, once they mature they are quite independent, carving out a little slice of land for themselves, as displayed in this example, called a Home Range. That is not to say they go it alone and leave everything else behind however. Rather, as shown in the map behind me, they live in their own space while still being part of a larger social group.”
With another press of his pad the picture was updated to show one of two symbols in each segment, along with a key to the side of the map displayed in helpful Venlang. A quick glance told me that the symbols were representing whether the territory belonged to a male or female of the species.
“As you can see there is quite a bit of overlap between different Koala’s territories. It is in these areas that most of the socialising takes place between neighbours. The trees in these locations represent the few areas where intrusion across territories is acceptable for the sake of social interaction. Outside of that the Koala’s stick to their own territories for the most part, with the exceptions of Koala’s who are passing through, attempting to become part of the social group themselves, or dominant males who sometimes go off into another Koala’s range. But how do they know where one range begins and another range ends you might ask? Well, this brings us onto the next part of the lecture. How do Koala’s communicate?”
Wiping away the map from the monitor, Bernard loaded up a video of a Koala sitting in a tree and pressed play. Head held high, the Koala’s body shook as it belted out a reverberating call into the wilderness that could only be described as a garbled combination of a car engine failing to turn over mixed with the hiccups of someone with a particularly sore throat.
That’s how they sound? Oof that must be rough on the lungs.
I clearly wasn’t the only one to share such a thought, because I clocked Sandi tracing a paw along her neck as the noise went on, ears fluttering in discomfort at the noise.
Bernard himself cleared his own throat as the video came to an end, minimising it and replacing it with another image of a tree with a Koala rubbing up against the bark, “I think they’ve got me beat on who’s got the deeper voice!”
His joke garnered several amused beeps, a rare reaction that caused a beaming smile to shine across his face at lighting speed, “Oh you’re too kind. I’ll be here all week. Now where were we? Oh yes! Communication. As you’ve just heard, Koala’s are capable of loud low pitched bellows that can carry over vast distances. These express everything from ‘Hello I’m over here’ to ‘This is my turf, stay away’. Bellowing is more common in the males than the females, opting for shouting matches as opposed to outright fights when it comes to asserting dominance. Other vocal expressions include grunts, wails, and snarls if they’re acting particularly angsty. Mother and joey pairs also communicate through gentle clicking, squeaking, and murmuring sounds. And there’s one more thing worth mentioning. Something they have in common with Humans and Venlil when it comes to emoting.”
Really? They do something we do?
Curious, I pressed myself against the desk, straining as close as I could to once more scrutinise the Koala’s features. Not a lot stood out to me at first, the grey marsupial not sharing many similarities with a Venlil that I could identify.
Ok think. We show emotion with our ears, tails, and our wool on occasion. They don’t have tails so it’s obviously not that. Wool standing on end is more a reaction than a conscious expression. So it must be the ears then.
To my quiet satisfaction, my hunch was soon validated by Bernard, “As well as their vocalisations, Koala’s are very emotive through their facial features. Just like humans, they use their mouths and lips to show how they feel, but these tend more towards the aggressive side of the scale than what you might see on a human. Regarding yourselves however, Koala’s utilise their ears in tandem with their mouth movements when showing strong emotion.”
I was delighted to hear that my assumption was correct, a little happy flick twisting out through my tail and bapping against my chair with a muted thump against the plastic.
Hehe yes! Got one right!
“Now then, we are getting close to lunchtime so I’ll finish this segment off with something I think you’ll find particularly interesting. Diplomacy.”
Perplexed mutterings followed in the wake of the bizarre inclusion to the lecture, my own thoughts being dominated by bewilderment as I tried and failed to make sense of how the two could possibly be related.
Why would Koala’s, or any animal for that matter, be linked to diplomacy? Hmmm...
I could understand dispatching exterminators to deal with a predator issue as a show of goodwill, that at least includes animals, but Humans aren’t like that so I think I can safely scratch that off the list.
Maybe the humans who live in that region benefited from Koala’s in some way. Could they have gotten something from them? But what?
Hopefully not what the pups get from their mothers.
Agh no! Begone awful intrusive thoughts. Blegh! I don’t need that in my head.
As I wrestled with the short-lived revulsion inflicted upon me by my Star's damned subconscious, Bernard placed a new image on screen, one that was decidedly different from all that had preceded it.
On screen were more than a couple dozen pictures of humans. Some were pictured alone while others congregated in large groups while cameras surrounded them from all angles. Across all the images, I noted two common themes. First of all, a solid majority of the humans were wearing formal wear similar to what I’d seen worn by UN representatives on TV. If the gaggle of journalists in the background of the photos didn’t already confirm my suspicions, then it was this similarity which made me conclude they were all people of some importance. Likely politicians judging from context clues.
Secondly, each of the individuals was interacting with a Koala in some form. Some cradled one against their chests while others were feeding it eucalyptus leaves or pellets of some kind. One of the assumed politicians had become an impromptu bed for a snoozing bundle of fur, a gleeful smile spread across their face as they lovingly gazed down at the sleeping Koala in their lap.
As I continued to stare at the assorted photos something clicked into place, a sudden spark flickering into life. A burgeoning light of comprehension that flared and swelled with every wide-eyed breath I took. Some things still escaped me, things I hoped would soon be explained, but in staring at all of the humans happy smiling faces, I was struck with an instant of pure understanding.
If someone, say a Nevok for instance, offered to gift me a creature that was common to them but which might exotic and breathtaking to a Venlil, how could my feelings not be swayed? How could I walk away from that encounter and not have grown closer to them as a result?
“Koala diplomacy,” Bernard waved his hand up at the monitor, a slight reverence in his tone, “My favourite kind of soft power diplomacy. Where political leaders take photo ops with Koala’s and, on occasion, the Australian government loans Koala’s to other nations for a time to bolster positive relations. It certainly helps that Koala’s are a beloved animal worldwide, drawing large crowds and revenue for countries fortunate enough to host the adorable critters.”
The truly alien concept predictably sparked instant discussion in the herd, two polar opposite schools of thought swiftly cementing themselves as the most popular opinions. Simultaneously, I heard one voice trill excitedly while another scoffed at what they clearly saw as a ridiculous and offensive notion.
“Squee! That’d be so cool! I’d love to get the chance to see a Liri from Coila. Remember the Rainbow Boa? Think of that shimmering effect and colour but put it on a bird! Ah! I’ve only heard their song on video. It’d be a treat to hear it in person!”
Ooo! I’ve read about them! I’d love to get up close to one.
“Loaning. As if animals are property to be hoarded and traded? Pugh! Another predatory trait the humans don’t want to acknowledge for what it is.”
Ugh, typical. Jump right to the worst possible option.
However, despite my dismissal of their disparaging fumings, an uncomfortable thought pressed upon my mind. While it was plain to see how much humans cared for the Koala, it didn’t change the fact that humans did keep animals as property just as the scornful herd member had said.
This begged a rather important, disquieting question. Aside from keeping some animals as cattle, a stomach tightening minefield I had no desire to step a claw onto right now, how else did humans keep other creatures. And how did they treat them?
Before I was fully conscious of doing it my paw was in the air, the question primed on my tongue.
Noticing my elevated paw Bernard pointed at me, smiling warmly, “Yes Rysel? What’s on your mind?”
Sorry Bernard. I hope this one’s not too awkward for you to answer.
Flicking my ear in appreciation, and waiting for everyone to settle enough so that I could be heard, I voiced my concerns as neutrally as possible, “Thank you Doctor. I uh, just had a thought. We know that humans keep certain animals for… particular reasons, and we know why. From how you’ve spoken about Koala’s I think it's fair to say that the same cannot be said for them. However, this makes me wonder, what other reasons do humans have for keeping animals and how do you treat them?”
A flash of surprise blinked across Bernard's eyes but vanished so quickly that it felt like I’d imagined it. Had he not expected such a question? Maybe he was just shocked that it’d been me who’d ended up asking it?
Stars, am I so predictable that no one expects me to ask difficult questions?
Unfortunately, a quick glance at my deskmates seemed to prove that to be the case, as both Sandi and Kailo were looking at me with differing degrees of astonishment flapping in their ears.
Well speh.
“A very good point Rysel, certainly one that’s worth raising. Yet another example of you all anticipating what I have to say before I can bring it up myself.” Bernard tapped the podium, switching off the monitor before returning his focus to me, “We won’t be needing that. I’ve nothing prepared that I can show you and we’re heading to lunch in a few minutes anyway. Still, that’s plenty of time to give you a bit of an answer.”
A bit? What does he mean just a bit?
Made even more curious by Bernard's preempted admission that he wasn’t going to fully answer my query, I dialled both my ears on him, fixing him with an inquisitive stare as he started to explain with a tone that was noticeably more nonchalant than any of his previous explanations.
“So, animals in captivity for reasons other than what you already know. Honestly I would love to delve into other reasons regarding why we keep animals. However, I have a lesson plan in the works that I hope to share with you all in the not too distant future. Some of it touches upon this very topic and I’d quite like to bundle it all together. That said, I can tell you how animals in captivity are treated. In short, the answer is very well. There are a mountain of laws both on private and public interests that govern the standards and ethical treatment of animals, and breaches of these laws are quite severe even for relatively minor infractions.”
While I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed by the vague answer to what was really the bulk of my question, I was at least satisfied by Bernard’s assurances that animals in captivity, such as the Koala, were well looked after. Considering the barely subdued grumbling coming from some corners of the audience it was clear that several of the herd didn’t believe Bernard outright, but I trusted him to be honest. Additionally, the mention of an upcoming lecture focused on humans keeping animals caused quite the buzz.
I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation at exploring the topic further. He’d pretty much confirmed we wouldn’t be talking about cattle farms, for which I was relieved, but that still left a huge amount of uncertainty in what was to come.
Humans keeping animals as cattle was a forgone conclusion. As horrifying as that reality was, it was one I could understand from a detached and strictly clinical point of view. Being predators they ate meat and therefore they kept cattle. But the concept of keeping animals for any other reason baffled me.
What could be the purpose? The diplomacy thing makes sense now that I have context, but what other reasons could they have.
The class's discussions were interrupted by the recognisable ring of the break bell, the shift in attention eliciting a change in conversation from confused hypotheses to peppy conversation on how everyone was planning to spend their break and what they had in mind for 2nd meal.
“Well I can see everyone’s excited for lunch, and who am I to disappoint,” chuckling Bernard waved us all up from our seats, pocketing his pad from the podium and heading to open the classroom door for us, “Enjoy your break, get a good rest along with a hearty meal, and I’ll see you all back here at the usual time.”
As everyone else filed out I stayed behind, waving at Sandi and Kailo as they left, and pawing over to Bernard once he and I were the only ones left in the room.
Ears folded down and with an apologetic tinge in my voice I greeted him as I sidled up to him, “Hey Bernard, I uh… sorry if that last question was unexpected.”
Chortling in reply, Bernard waved a hand through the air in a sign I’d come to understand meant ‘not a problem’.
“No need to apologise Rysel. It was a good question and most certainly not a problem.”
Heh, called it.
I sighed, allowing tension I didn’t realise I’d been holding to relax itself from my shoulders, “Phew, that’s a relief. I’m glad. I’m curious to hear what this new lesson is you’ve got in store for us by the way.”
Bernard wagged a finger at me, throwing up his eyebrows in mock amazement, “Oh are you now? Well I’m afraid you’ll have to remain curious for the time being. It’s going to be quite the surprise if all goes to plan. But…”
He trailed off, glancing at me before looking to the door like he was making sure no one else was around.
Wait, is he going to tell me? Oh please yes let me know now!
Stopping myself from jumping on the spot in excited anticipation, and trying my damndest to stop my tail from wagging in equal measure, I stared up at Bernard as he stewed in his thoughts before turning back to face me.
“I can’t tell you the specifics, but I’m working with Alejandro and Tolim to get something together. A trip that’s not a trip as it were. And when it happens, I’m going to need a few of the more accepting members of the class to lend me a hand. I’m hoping you and a couple others will be able to help with that?”
A trip that’s not a trip? What does that mean? Agh who cares about that right now! Bernard’s relying on me to help out!
Still trying not to keep myself from bouncing around with pup like glee I swished my tail and nodded my head in joint agreement, happy to help with whatever Bernard had in store for us, “Of course! Anything you need I’ll be there to lend a paw. You can count on me!”
A broad warm smile lit up Bernard's face, a hand patting me on the shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you Rysel. I knew I could rely on you but it still warms my heart to hear it. And, as thanks for this and for the many times you’ve shown your support, the surprise includes a little something special I think you’d appreciate the most.”
If my earlier enthusiasm had been at a nine, then the implication of a supposed gift sent it rocketing all the way to a hundred in a heartbeat.
“Wait… WHAT!? What do you mean? What are you doing?”
As impossible as it seemed, Bernard's grin grew even wider as I almost lost myself in wool shaking exhilaration, “Call it my own form of Koala diplomacy. But I’m afraid that’s all I can say for now. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise even for you!”
“Oh you ass!” Whistling jovially I bapped my tail against Bernard’s leg in fake indignation, evoking a barking bellowing laugh from the man himself.
Still laughing, the two of us departed the class and made for the canteen, my rumbling stomach leading me on while my mind spun with fantastical thoughts as to what Bernard had prepared for us.
And what specifically he had in store for me.

WWE Heat Wave: The Genesis of the Rivalry
The story begins at WWE Heat Wave, a new pay-per-view event designed to kick off the summer season with a bang. Jade Cargill, the dominant and charismatic powerhouse, makes a surprise debut, announcing herself as the reigning WWE Women's Intercontinental Heavyweight Champion—a title she introduced to add prestige and competition to the women's division. Her entrance is met with awe and excitement, but it takes a turn when Chyna, the legendary "Ninth Wonder of the World," interrupts. Chyna, known for breaking barriers in the Attitude Era, challenges Jade, claiming that if anyone should hold such a title, it should be her. The tension is palpable, and the two engage in a fierce brawl, setting the stage for their rivalry.
WWE SummerSlam: First Blood
At SummerSlam, the anticipation is high as Jade defends her newly introduced championship against Chyna. The match is a brutal showcase of strength and resilience, with both women pushing each other to their limits. In a shocking twist, Jade retains her title through underhanded tactics, using the ropes for leverage during the pinfall. Chyna is left fuming, vowing to bring Jade down and take the championship.
WWE Unforgiven: Retribution
Unforgiven sees Chyna getting her rematch. This time, the match is a No Disqualification bout, ensuring there are no excuses or shortcuts. The match is even more intense than their last encounter, featuring chairs, kendo sticks, and even a table spot. Despite Chyna's valiant effort, Jade once again comes out on top, thanks to interference from a newly formed alliance with a rising star, Bianca Belair. Chyna is left battered but more determined than ever.
WWE No Mercy: Alliances Formed
At No Mercy, Chyna seeks revenge and finds an ally in Beth Phoenix, the Glamazon, who has her own issues with Jade and Bianca. The event features a tag team match: Jade and Bianca vs. Chyna and Beth. The match is a showcase of power and teamwork, but it ends in chaos as all four women brawl outside the ring, leading to a double count-out. The unresolved tension sets up another encounter.
WWE Survivor Series: The Clash of Titans
Survivor Series features a traditional elimination match with Team Jade (Jade, Bianca Belair, Charlotte Flair, and Nia Jax) against Team Chyna (Chyna, Beth Phoenix, Sasha Banks, and Becky Lynch). The match is a thrilling back-and-forth, but it ultimately comes down to Jade and Chyna as the last women standing. In a surprising turn, Chyna finally pins Jade clean, marking her first significant victory in their rivalry and setting the stage for a championship rematch.
WWE Royal Rumble: Road to WrestleMania
At the Royal Rumble, Chyna and Jade face off once again for the WWE Women's Intercontinental Heavyweight Championship. This time, it's a Last Woman Standing match. The brutality reaches new heights as both women refuse to stay down. In the climax, Chyna delivers a devastating Pedigree off the top rope through a table, keeping Jade down for the ten-count. Chyna finally claims the championship, but Jade's pursuit is far from over.
WWE Elimination Chamber: Unfinished Business
With WrestleMania on the horizon, the Elimination Chamber match features both women as part of a six-woman bout, with the championship on the line. The match is grueling, with alliances formed and broken. In the end, it's down to Chyna and Jade once more. Jade manages to outlast Chyna, reclaiming the championship and solidifying her as a formidable force heading into WrestleMania.
WWE Fastlane: The Last Stop
Fastlane serves as the final stop before WrestleMania, with Chyna and Jade facing off in a non-title Steel Cage match. The cage is meant to prevent interference and settle the score. The match is another brutal encounter, showcasing the sheer physicality and determination of both competitors. Chyna emerges victorious, climbing over the cage and setting the stage for their final showdown at WrestleMania.
WWE WrestleMania: The Ultimate Showdown
At WrestleMania, the grandest stage of them all, Jade Cargill and Chyna clash in an epic main event for the WWE Women's Intercontinental Heavyweight Championship. The match stipulation is an Iron Woman match, lasting 30 minutes, ensuring a definitive conclusion to their rivalry. The bout is a masterclass in storytelling and athleticism, with both women securing multiple falls. As the clock winds down, Chyna secures a final fall with mere seconds left, reclaiming the championship and earning the respect of Jade and the WWE Universe.
Epilogue: Respect and Legacy
The rivalry between Jade Cargill and Chyna becomes legendary, elevating both women's careers and the prestige of the WWE Women's Intercontinental Heavyweight Championship. In the aftermath, the two warriors, having pushed each other to their limits, share a moment of mutual respect, solidifying their legacies in WWE history.

My wife, Mia, and I were driving cross-country. It was our first attempt at the “Great American Roadtrip.”
Mia and I rented a small RV; more of a camper than a full blown RV. We packed up a couple suitcases with plenty of room for any souvenirs and we hit the dusty trail.
We started our journey on the “Mother Road”-- Route 66-- driving south from Chicago until we connected to i-70 and shot straight west through Missouri.
The goal was to see those parts of the country we had never seen before, stopping anywhere that seemed interesting. From the plains of Kansas up through the badlands of Wyoming and South Dakota.
In Missouri we saw the world’s largest cap gun. In Kansas we visited the Evel Knievel Museum and the World’s Largest Belt Buckle.
We love all those kitschy, tourist trap places.
Eventually, we made it to Colorado and after a few hours more of driving through amber waves of grain, we saw them... the Rocky Mountains.
We made an exit and headed north through the winding mountain highways.
The Rockies were gorgeous. Snow capped in the middle of summer, some of the peaks pierced through the white fluffy clouds.
We saw a sign that read “Traffic Tunnel - 3 Miles.”
A little further and sure enough, there it was, a large tunnel bored directly through the mountain in front of us.
A large sign read, “Pike Tunnel - Longest Traffic Tunnel in the Nation! - Please turn your headlights on now.”
“How long is it?” asked Mia.
“That’s what she said,” I quipped.
But she was right, there was no information beyond the detail that this was the longest tunnel in the nation.
“Can’t be more than a mile or two,” I said as I watched the little white car ahead of us slip into the darkness. A moment later we joined it.
The tunnel was lit by fluorescents that gave everything a greenish yellow tinge. On the left hand side was a raised walkway behind a railing for maintenance access.
Initially I was struck by the incredible amount of work that went into the construction of this man- made marvel.
“We’re under a million tons of rocky mountain right now,” I said.
“How many years before this caves in?” Mia responded.
I shot her a look--
“Let’s save the cave-in talk until we’re out on the other side.”
“I’m just saying, nature will take this back eventually,” she continued.
I scanned the empty road ahead of us.
“Where did the other car go?” I asked.
We were now alone in the tunnel, no cars ahead of us nor behind us.
“Huh... they must have sped off ahead. Maybe they’re scared of a cave-in?”
My Spotify playlist had stopped playing. Mia looked at the phone.
“No cell service.”
She turned on the radio and spun the dial only to find static.
“You’re not going to be able to pick up a station in here,” I said.
She turned the volume down.
“Just wanted to check... If only we had some CDs. This tunnel really keeps going.”
“I would have thought we’d be through it by now,” I replied.
I looked at the RV’s odometer, 45,600 miles. I picked up speed. I wanted to try and catch up to the little white car.
Up until this point, the tunnel was a straight shot, but now the tunnel started to curve to the right. It may have been my imagination but it also felt as though we were descending…
Mia felt it too and she started to get antsy.
“Where did that other car go? How long is this tunnel?”
There was an urgency in her voice.
I was getting nervous, claustrophobia was not usually a problem for me but when I looked down at the odometer and I saw that it had gone up by 3 miles, my mind began to wander to unsettling places.
We were descending in altitude. I could feel it. I could see a slope in the lights on the ceiling and the railing of the maintenance walkway. I could feel a pressure in my head, and I was getting cold.
“Could you grab me a coke from the back, Mia?”
I couldn’t have Mia getting anxious, that would only start a chain reaction and make me freak out which would then make her freak out.
She unbuckled and ducked into the back of the RV to where we had a cooler stocked with drinks and food.
Just as she stepped into the back, I saw something.
There standing on the side of the road was a MAN wearing a reflective safety vest and a hard hat. He was WAVING to me as I passed him by.
Something about him looked... strange…
I watched him in the side-view mirror as we passed and he was still watching the RV, still waving at the back of our vehicle as he faded into the distance.
Mia reappeared from the back of the RV, Coke in hand. She popped it and handed it to me.
“You look worried.”
“I’m fine,” I smiled and took a sip of the Coke.
“Eric, slow down!”
I slammed on the breaks as I saw what made Mia scream. In the road in front of us was a roadblock.
Two reflective traffic sawhorses blocked both lanes of the tunnel. Beyond the roadblock, the lights of the tunnel were dark. There was nothing but a void of blackness.
Standing in front of the roadblock was another man wearing a reflective vest and a hard hat, only this time his hard hat had a light on top which obscured his face.
We came to a jolting stop.
I turned to Mia
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s a cave-in isn’t it?”
“God, I hope not.”
I rolled down the window, leaned out and yelled to the man in the hard hat.
“Hey! What’s going on?!”
The man was about 5 yards away. He took two steps towards us and then raised a hand to his mouth and yelled.
“Just doing some maintenance!”
“How long is it going to take?!” I yelled back.
The man made a hand gesture as if he didn’t hear me.
“How long is it going to take?!” I called again.
He made the same gesture. I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed the door release.
“What are you doing?” Mia asked.
“I gotta know what’s going on.”
“Eric, just stay here, it might not be safe.”
“I’ll be just a second,” I said.
I pushed the door open and stepped down from the RV.
“Stay in your vehicle!” the man yelled.
He took a couple steps towards me with his hand out telling me to stop.
“What’s the hold up?!” I shouted.
The man was a bit closer now but I still couldn’t see his face through the shining light on his helmet.
“Please stay in your vehicle!” he shouted.
There was something off about him.
Then I heard it–
“EEEAAAUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH!!!”
A scream, or something, rolled from deep in the tunnel. The worker turned and looked into the darkness. Then he ran past the barricades and soon all we could see of him was the light on his helmet.
The light disappeared a moment later.
“What the hell was that?! Is someone hurt?” Mia asked.
“I have no idea,” I said.
“Should we do something?” Mia asked.
I just sat there and watched the pitch black tunnel in front of me. I had no idea what to tell her. I checked the sideview mirrors. There was still nobody behind us.
“Where are the other cars?” I asked.
“They must have gotten through before the roadblock... Or maybe they caused the roadblock?” Mia replied.
“I saw another worker a little ways back. We could try to go back and talk to him.”
“We’d be going straight into any oncoming cars.”
“There’s a maintenance walkway. We didn’t pass him that long ago. We can probably catch him on foot.”
“Maybe we should just wait for the guy to come back.”
She reached over and grabbed my arm. I squeezed her hand.
She was right.
I looked out at the tunnel ahead of us. I turned on the RV’s high beams but all I could see beyond the roadblock was more tunnel and more road.
I checked my phone. Unsurprisingly, there was no service still.
We waited, but the man never came back.
“It’s been twenty minutes,” Mia said, “How come there hasn’t been another car behind us?
I was having the same thought. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out. I looked back at the road behind us. It went back about 200 yards before curving out of sight.
There was no sign of that first worker I saw on the maintenance walk way. I looked at the roadblock ahead of us and clicked on the RV’s high beams. There was nothing beyond the roadblock but more tunnel. It didn’t look like it was under construction, just very dark.
“I think we should keep going,” I said.
“What about the roadblock?”
“We’ll move those sawhorses out of the way and just drive past,” I said as I opened my door.
Mia looked at me, then she cast her eyes to the dark tunnel ahead of us. I knew she was processing the same limited options that I was.
Driving backwards would be a huge risk in the instance of another car finally coming along.
Getting out and walking would take God knows how long, we could have driven 10 miles at this point.
Forward was our best option.
“Let’s do it,” Mia said.
We jumped out and quickly pulled the two sawhorses out of the right lane. I pulled the RV up past the barriers, then we jumped out again and put the sawhorses back where they were. We didn't need another car to come barreling through.
We were finally moving again, slowly. It was pitch black save for the high beams of the RV.
We crept forward at around 15 miles per hour. As the tunnel turned and twisted, my eyes started to play tricks on me. I kept seeing shapes at the furthest point of the tunnel.
I kept seeing something standing just at the end of the next bend but as we roll forward, there was nothing there.
“Where are the workers?” Mia asked.
“I don’t know.”
I was done rationalizing. This was all wrong. Traffic tunnels are never this long.
My mind started to wander to all the road trip urban legends I’d read about; The Killer in the Backseat, The Disappearing Gas Station, The Pale Man In The Corn Field.
Did we stumble into some strange outlier location? An in-between point on the endless roads that cross this country?
Then I saw it–
“Look! A person! Thank god!” Mia shouted.
As we rounded a curve in the tunnel, a group of maintenance workers entered our view.
The three of them stood on the left side of the road behind two more sawhorses topped with flashing lights.
Two of them faced towards us, the third was facing the other two.
The one with his back to us wore a light on his hard hat. Was this the same guy we saw earlier? How did he get this far away?
I approached slowly and rolled down the window.
“Hey! You left us waiting back there!” I yelled.
There was no response.
In fact, all three men were completely silent, and it was hard to tell in the flashing light of the sawhorses, but they looked to be standing COMPLETELY STILL.
“Hello?!” I yelled again.
I pushed open my door and stepped out onto the pavement.
“Eric wait--”
I held up a finger to Mia.
“Just a second.”
I slowly stepped towards the 3 men.
“Hello?”
No response… What the fuck?
The bright lights of the sawhorses obscured their faces.
I kept moving closer.
“Hey, what’s going on--”
Then I saw it.
Their faces... They were plastic.
In front of me stood three mannequins.
I backed away toward the RV, then I turned and walked hurriedly to the vehicle.
I was seriously freaked out but I didn’t want to alarm Mia. I climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.
“They’re mannequins.” I said.
“What?”
“They’re mannequins.”
”Why?... What?...”
“I don’t know…”
I looked back over at the three figures and my blood ran cold…
The Hard Hat Mannequin had somehow TURNED AROUND to face us. All three figures appeared to be watching us now.
Then we heard it--
A loud resonant banging on the side, and then the roof of the RV.
“What the hell was that?” Mia whispered.
We listened, holding our breath. Then--
A shuffling sound--
Something was moving ON or IN the RV.
“Stay here.” I said.
I got up.
“Eric, wait!”
I moved to the back of the RV.
It was dark. I went for a drawer in the kitchenette space and pulled out a flashlight.
I moved to the rear of the RV, the bedroom. My flashlight illuminated an empty room.
“Whoever is back here, I have a gun…”
A shitty bluff. But I didn’t see anything.
I shone the light out of the windows of each side of the RV. Nothing.
Then I heard it–
A shuffling sound, from right above me.
I looked up and screamed–
“Fuck!”
On the roof of the RV, staring through the skylight was a woman with vacuous black eyes and a dead smile.
Her stringy black hair dangled down towards me casting thing black shadows across her horrible pale face.
“Mia, drive! Fast!” I screamed.
Mia JUMPED over to the driver’s seat, shifted into gear and STOMPED on the gas. The RV was clunky but it could move when it needed to.
We lurched forward and I fell back.
I trained my flashlight up onto the skylight again and the woman was gone.
I scrambled to my feet and looked out of the side windows.
Did Mia shake her off? There was no sign of the woman. I moved to the passenger seat, breathing heavily and sweating.
“What happened?” She asked, keeping the RV at a steady 50 mph.
“There was a woman on the roof,” I said flatly.
I realize now that I was in a kind of shock.
“A woman?”
“Her eyes were black.”
Mia just looked at me, then back at the tunnel ahead of us.
“There’s something wrong with this tunnel.” I whispered.
Mia pointed at the road ahead, “Look.”
I looked out at the tunnel. There were more mannequins. A LOT more mannequins. They were positioned on both sides of the road.
They were all facing us and even though I never saw them move, when I looked in the side-view mirror, they were somehow STILL facing us, turning to watch us as we drove past. Watching without eyes.
“Just keep driving.” I said.
As we drove on, the mannequins crowded the sides of the road more and more. There were thousands of them. Eventually they were so close that some of their outstretched arms hit the side of the RV.
They were closing in on us. Squeezing our path forward. One stood in the middle of the road.
“I don’t think i can get around it.”
“Run it over. Don’t stop.”
The RV smashed into the mannequin. Its head shot forward and bounced against the windshield and the vehicle shuddered as it rolled over the body.
Soon there were two in the road. Then three.
I could see where this was going. Pretty soon there would be too many for the RV to ram through, but goddammit we were going to get through as many as we could.
“Speed up, Mia.”
CRASH!
The sound was surreal, smashing into mannequin after mannequin at nearly 60 miles per hour.
Hands, legs, heads and torsos flew.
The windshield cracked, the RV shuddered and screamed and eventually slowed down, despite the screaming engine.
I’m certain the axle was jammed up with lifeless, plastic body parts. Eventually we came to a stop.
“She won’t move,” Mia said.
She pressed on the gas but it was no use, the RV just rocked a little bit.
“Try reverse.”
She shifted and pressed on the gas, we got some decent movement before running into another jam.
“Fuck.”
“Should we get out and look?” Mia asked.
“I’ll go,” I said as I grabbed the flashlight and popped the passenger door. Mia unbuckled her seatbelt.
“We’ll go together.”
We stumbled out of the RV on the passenger side. It was like stepping into Hell.
Countless, lifeless faces stared out at us from the darkness. The only light came from the headlights of the RV and my flashlight.
We clumsily made our way along the side of the RV. The ground was littered with mannequin pieces.
I thought to myself, if we could get a couple yards cleared out behind the rear tires, we might be able to back out and get enough momentum to reverse all the way back out of here.
Instead, when we got to the back of the RV, my stomach flipped and my heart sank.
I was expecting to see a trail of flattened mannequins, instead the RV was now surrounded by thousands of perfectly intact mannequins standing at attention. As if their ranks had some how been replenished after our vehicular assault.
“This is impossible.”
She started to cry. I held her close.
“We’ll keep moving.” I said.
“It will never end. The tunnel makes no sense. It only curves one direction.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“This whole time the tunnel has only been curving to the right. it would sometimes straighten out or go left for a few yards but before too long we were curving to the right again. We’ve either been driving in circles or spiraling downwards.”
“So we’ll go back the way we came and hope we’re not going in circles.” I said.
We had been driving for hours at this point. Walking back out the way we came would take days. But now that I thought about it, Mia was right, we’d only been curving to the right.
This tunnel seemed to be very gradually taking us downwards into the earth.
Going forward would not get us any closer to escape.
“We’ll need food from the RV,” Mia said.
I nodded and we stumbled our way back to the front of the RV, the mannequins’ lifeless faces watching us the whole time.
I stepped up to the passenger door and nearly fell back when I looked through the window.
“What the fuck?” I breathed.
What I saw were two mannequins sitting in the driver’s and passenger’s seat.
How they got in there? I have no idea, but what really made my blood run cold was that they were dressed EXACTLY like MIA and I.
They wore identical sets of clothes. The one in the passenger seat had my same New Order T-shirt and black jeans. The one in the driver’s seat had Mia’s green striped sweater and denim shorts.
Their plastic faces stared out through the shattered windshield at the endless crowd of mannequins staring back at them.
Mia stepped up and saw the uncanny display.
“What the fuck?” Mia echoed.
I pulled myself up into the RV and slowly stepped around my mannequin doppelgänger. I avoided looking into its face but I swear i could feel it watching me as I stumbled around it.
Mia followed and we made our way into the back of our dark RV. Luckily we had just stocked our cooler full of deli meat and water not long after crossing the Colorado state line.
I handed Mia the flashlight and pulled open the cooler. I filled a backpack full of food and water.
I turned and saw them–
My mannequin double had somehow moved. It was standing in the aisle watching us.
Mia’s doppelgänger was still seated in the driver’s seat but had turned to peer back at us with its eyeless gaze.
Mia saw the look in my eyes and turned. She screamed when she saw them and backed into me. I put my arm around her and we stood there a moment, letting our skyrocketing heart rates return to Earth.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
I slid the backpack onto my shoulders.
Mia joined me at the door. I looked into her eyes. “Are you ready?” She nodded. I kissed her.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you,” she said.
The look on her face killed me. She was terrified. I’m sure the look on my face was similar.
I opened the door and we stepped out…
We again stumbled to the back of the RV. Once we were clear of the RV and all the crushed mannequin body parts, it became easier to find footing, though weaving through an endless crowd of lifeless people was a slow process.
It was pitch black. Without the flashlight we wouldn’t be able to see a foot in front of us.
As I walked, the beam of light created the illusion of movement in the crowd. At least I hoped it was an illusion.
The limbs of the mannequins seemed to stretch and turn, but the only sound was that of Mia and I shuffling our way through the crowded tunnel.
Things went on like this for what felt like hours. Mia and I were sweating and aching. I was about to suggest we stop and rest, but then I saw it and I froze…
Out in the crowd, beyond rows of blank faces I saw a pale face, black hair and a dead smile.
I saw two vacuous eyes staring right at me.
“Mia, do you see her?” I whispered.
“See who?”
I slowly raised my arm and pointed.
It was the woman, or whatever it was, that stared back at me through the skylight on the roof of the RV.
“Oh my god!” Mia squeaked.
I could see now that the Pale Faced Woman was tall. A few inches taller than the mannequins.
As I pointed, she stared back at me with that terrible grin.
“What do we do?” Mia whispered.
I raised the flashlight and pointed it right at the Pale Faced Woman. I thought maybe this would scare her off.
I was wrong.
The light only made her appear more unsettling as she stared back, unflinchingly.
“What do you want?!” I yelled.
She only stared back at me. She was as still as the mannequins.
“We have to keep going.” I whispered.
Mia didn’t respond. Her body was tense as she held onto me.
“We’ve come this far, we can’t turn back again,” I continued.
I pulled Mia’s hand and we continued on our way through the mannequins, keeping the distance between us and her as wide as possible.
As we moved past, she kept watching us. Though her movements were imperceptible to us, her eyes never left us. Like one of those portraits whose eyes appear to watch you no matter where you stand.
Finally, we got far enough that she was out of sight. But the thought of her being somewhere behind us only unsettled me further and I quickened our pace.
As the hours wore on, there was no sign of the Pale Faced Woman and the crowd of mannequins began to thin out. They still populated the tunnel from one end to the other, but there was more space between them, allowing Mia and I to walk more freely.
The mannequins on the maintenance walkway on the side of the tunnel seemed to thin out as well and I decided it would give us a better vantage if we were walking up there.
I helped Mia climb up the railing that bordered the walkway, then I climbed up behind her. The walkway was elevated 3 or 4 feet above the roadway. We could easily see over the heads of the mannequins in both directions.
There was, of course, no end to the tunnel in sight.
We kept walking.
The mannequins continued to thin out, but they were different now.
There were mannequins dressed as maintenance workers again, but also mannequins dressed as families and businessmen. There was even a group of mannequin nuns standing in a single file line, heads bowed in prayer.
Needless to say, we passed none of this on the way in to the tunnel. I was feeling very hopeless that we were going to be able to find our way out.
I was far beyond speculating how this was at all possible. It’s NOT possible. And even if it were, there is no good reason for someone to do this to us.
The only explanation was the supernatural. Then I saw Her. Rather, I saw THEM.
Arranged in the middle of the tunnel was a circle of mannequins with long black hair and tattered cloth.
They looked exactly like the Pale Faced Woman, minus any facial features. I kept a close watch on them as we passed to make sure they didn’t start following us.
“A door!” Mia shouted.
Mia pointed a few paces ahead of her. There was a door leading into the wall of the tunnel.
We ran towards it. Mia grabbed the handle, turned it and pulled. It was heavy and Mia had to brace her foot on the wall to get it moving.
The metal door groaned as if it hadn’t been opened in years.
Finally, it was open enough to see past.
It was a hallway. It went out about 5 yards then turned right at a 90 degree angle.
The strangest part was the design of the hallway.
It wasn’t cement or pavement like the tunnel.
The walls were wood paneled and the floor was covered in a thick carpet, like a house from the 1970s.
“I say we see where this takes us.” Mia said.
There was no reason to disagree, but I wasn’t going to get us trapped in there.
I opened up my backpack and took out a water bottle. I opened it and handed it to Mia. She drank half, then I drank the other half.
I slowly closed the door, shoving the empty water bottle in the crack to keep it from closing all the way.
I turned to Mia-- “Okay, let’s go.”
We slowly made our way down the quiet hallway. We got down to where the hallway cornered to the right and that’s when we heard it–
KA-CHUNK!!!--
I whipped around. The door had closed behind us. I ran back to it and tried to push it open, but it was no use. There was no way it closed on its own.
Someone had to have removed the water bottle. Our path had been chosen for us.
There was no turning back.
We continued down the hallway. We turned right. The hallway continued, then turned right again. That should have led us right back to the tunnel. But it didn’t. This part of the hallway went on far longer than was possible without running into the tunnel. Then it turned right again.
It went on like this. Sometimes a section of the hallway was 20 feet long, sometimes it was 20 yards long, sometimes it was 3 feet long. But it always turned to the right.
At first it was a relief to be somewhere other than the cold, dark tunnel. But the hallway very quickly became claustrophobic and before too long, I heard someone walking behind us.
We had stopped to take a break and I heard a third pair of footsteps on the carpet coming from behind us. I backtracked to the last corner.
I was terrified as I slowly peeked around the corner, tense and waiting to see the vacuous eyes and inky black hair of the Pale Faced Woman... but there was nothing there. I wasn’t about to backtrack any further.
“There was no one there.” I whispered.
Mia slumped against the wall and slid down to the carpet.
“I think I need to rest.” She said.
I put my backpack down on the ground for Mia to use as a pillow. She laid her head down and was passed out in seconds.
I had no idea how long we had been walking at this point. I stood leaning against the wall. My body was telling me to rest but I couldn’t risk falling asleep. I had to keep watch. I knew SHE was following us.
I took in the details of the hallway for the first time. The carpet was a dull brown and the walls a cheap wood paneling. The hanging lighting fixtures were shaded by stained glass, something you might see in an old diner.
Who built this place? Did someone pick out the carpet and the lighting fixtures? Did a team of workers blast these tunnels into the Earth? Or has this place always existed? Was this Purgatory?
I began to feel dizzy. I was panicking. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest. I slumped to the floor and tried to slow my breathing.
I closed my eyes... –
I SHOT up in a panic. I had fallen asleep while I was meant to be keeping watch.
I snapped to my feet and looked around.
Mia was still asleep on my backpack.
Then I noticed that the hallway had changed. A few paces away there was now a plain wooden door in the wall.
I slowly approached it. I put my ear to the door and I could hear what sounded like TV static and the low murmur of voices.
I discreetly grabbed the door handle and turned it slowly. I felt the latch bolt clear and I carefully cracked the door just enough to peek inside.
It was dark, so it took a second for me to register what I was seeing. I saw a small board room. A long table in the center was surrounded by seated men in suits.
At the end of the table stood another man next to an old CRT TV that was playing static. This was the only source of light in the room and all the men around the table were turned towards the tv.
Suddenly the screen flickered from static to a solid dark background. And some warped new age style muzak began playing.
Then the words appeared on the screen that terrified me like nothing else before. In plain text the words read–
“YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I froze as I knew these words were meant for me I watched with terror as the men seated around the table slowly turned toward me in unison.
They were mannequins.
The TV screen then clicked off and they continued staring at me as I could barely make out their forms through the near pitch darkness.
I quickly pulled the door shut. And whipped around to look at Mia, I had a horrible feeling of dread that when I turned around she would be gone, like the message on the TV promised–
“Eric? What are you doing?” Mia was leaning up and staring at me.
Thank God. There was Mia, right where I left her.
I pointed at the door and said, “This door appeared and I--”
“What door?” she interrupted.
I turned and sure enough, the door was now gone.
I explained what happened to her, but I left out the message that appeared on the screen.
-- YOU WILL LOSE HER –
Those words still burned in my brain. I tried to force them out.
We drank water, ate granola and then got moving again.
Hallways. Endless hallways.
After a couple hours of walking we started to hear music. There were small speakers in the corners of the ceiling.
I recognized it as the same new-age muzak that played on the TV in the board room. The melody drilled into our minds. Combined with the dull aesthetics of the quiet hallways and the endless right turns, the music had a hypnotizing effect.
The lengths of the halls became more uniform. That is to say, the straight section of hallway was about 7 paces, then a right turn, then 7 paces and a right turn.
“I think we’re walking in circles... or a square,” Mia said.
I looked at her and took out a bottle of water. I peeled off the plastic label and dropped it on the floor.
Then we kept walking.
7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. And there it was... Mia was right.
The label from my water bottle lay in the middle of the hallway. Somehow we had been led into a loop. I lost it.
“FUUUCK!”
I kicked the wall repeatedly and screamed. Mia just leaned her back against the wall.
This was our dynamic. If one of us lost it, the other became zen and thought of a solution. More often than not, I was the one to lose it.
I finally stopped freaking out
“There has to be a way out. A door,” Mia said.
“We would have seen it,” I replied.
“A hidden door,” she said.
She turned around and ran her hands along the cracks of the wood paneling.
“Most likely on the outer wall,” she said.
She beat her fist on the wall, listening for a change in the sound. I exhaled heavily, sweating and tired, and I started searching the wall as well.
We checked the whole first wall, nothing. We checked the second wall, nothing. The third, nothing.
The final wall... Nothing. I gave up and slumped on the floor. Mia immediately went over to the other side of the hall and started checking the inner wall.
“What are you doing? I thought you said it would be on the outer wall?” I asked.
Then we heard it.
Mia beat the wall and instead of the dead thud, we heard a resonate BOOM –
A door…
I shot up and started tapping the wall with Mia until we found where the door ended. It was the width of about 4 wooden panels. I lined myself up in the center, lowered my shoulder and pushed–
IT MOVED! It barely moved but it was enough to confirm this actually was a door! I re-centered and tried again, lowering my center of gravity, I pushed as hard as I could. The door pushed inward about 3 inches, then Mia joined in. We slowly moved the door, 5 inches, then 10, then 15, then 20.
Then Mia slipped inside.
I had a moment of panic as she disappeared into the darkness and those haunting words came back into my mind, “YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I darted past the doorway, falling through the threshold and hitting the concrete floor.
I looked up and there was Mia, thank God. I promised myself I’d never let her out of my sight again.
“The exit...” Mia said.
She looked and sounded as if she were a thousand miles away. I got to my feet and followed her gaze. What I saw nearly brought me to tears.
We were back in the tunnel, but there was light. About a mile down was the mouth of the tunnel, and daylight pouring in. Beautiful daylight. I grabbed Mia tight and kissed her.
“Thank God...” she cried.
We started moving. Nothing was going to slow us down this time. We sped up into a RUN down the maintenance walkway towards that beautiful sunlight.
As we approached, something else came into view. Parked in the middle of the roadway was a large vehicle…
It couldn’t be…
It was!
Our RV sat in the road waiting for us. We ran all the way to it, pulled open the passenger side door and climbed in. There were no mannequins to be seen.
I fell into the driver’s seat and Mia handed me the keys. I turned over the engine, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I shifted into gear and floored it towards the sunlight.
As we got closer, I could see the green of trees and the blue of the sky. We were maybe one hundred yards away.
I turned to Mia, tears in my eyes…
And what I saw turned my blood to ice.
Just beyond Mia’s window, that horrifying pale face grinned at me.
The Pale Faced Woman was somehow floating outside of the RV.
Before I could say anything, her hand smashed through the window and gripped Mia by the throat, then in one horrible motion the thing PULLED MIA SCREAMING THROUGH THE WINDOW AND…
Disappeared…
I SLAMMED on the breaks just as the RV passed through the exit of the tunnel and sunlight flooded the cab of the RV. I threw it in park and shot out of the door screaming.
“Mia!? Mia??!!”
I screamed over and over. I rounded the front of the RV and looked back at the tunnel –
-- and what I saw shattered my mind…
The tunnel was gone.
There was only open road.
I had lost her.

I’m going out on a limb here, because this post is going to be a strong dose of woo. But I feel I have a duty to warn, and you people seem just weird enough to be able to get it. Read this in the voice of John Oliver if you have to, it might help.

TL;DR: Things are going to get worse before they get better. A mundane and lame, but not altogether surprising, amount of worse. Around 2045-2050, is when things finally turn around. Time to get your shit together, people.

Backstory: Back in the late 70s, a former Special Assistant to the Chief of Naval Operations, Stephan A. Schwartz, got involved in remote viewing. Schwartz started a long-term project that ran from 1978 to 1995 to ask remote viewers to look at one day in June, 2050 to see whether or not the Cold War turned into a nuclear war. He collected data from hundreds of remote viewers over thousands of sessions, over decades of time, and aggregated down the places of only broad consensus. The points where nearly everyone agreed over years and years.

What came out was while we didn’t nuke ourselves, things like the fall of the USSR, the rise of HIV/AIDS, climate change, and terrorism replacing the Cold War seemed like crazy talk at the time, but it's what the remote viewers said. To date, points of wide consensus have held accurate because they’re non-specific. It's not “on Sept 11 this will happen…” it’s “something happened, and now terrorism is why the world is a more dangerous place.”

You can watch here in 2017 where Schwartz talks about a “series of epidemics” occurring. HIV/AIDS was the first one, and last I checked, the opioid crisis, huge increases in non-communicable diseases, and COVID are all massive public health problems on a scale we didn’t used to have - even at the level that in 2017 to consider them. Then he describes Zoom meetings, and how they’re in VR by 2050. So, like I said, things get worse.
/backstory

In the last few years, Schwartz started up a new version of the 2050 project, asking remote viewers to look at the year 2060, and report on wide consensus. A summary of his work is here, with findings on the last page. (This is not investment advice… or is it? ;) I’ve been waiting around on a book with more details for 2 years now, and still nothing, so I have this and interviews as most of what he has out there to go on.
I’m a remote viewer, and I’ve had years of profound, sometimes bonkers experiences that have forced me to stop being so materialist and accept that sometimes remote viewing works. And that the universe is buck wild, but whatever.
Anyone can learn to remote view, just like anyone can learn French if they spend a lot of time every day working on something that seems cool at first, but is ultimately borderline pointless to do without a solid reason. In reality, both have too many rules and are kind of annoying to keep up every day when you’re not using it professionally. But, objectively, learning French is still worse.

….But I’ve also studied and used social science data for work, and looking at broad consensus is how we evaluate things like aggregating survey data. So I put a lot of stock in both the 2050 and 2060 projects simply based on the methodology.

You know what I don’t put a lot of stock in? Astrology.

So I made the mistake of asking astrology about the general themes forecast for the US for 2030-2045, expecting some sort of hilarious contradictions. Like “oh, 2034, Saturn is in Leo - the US elects its first kitty-cat president :3 YAY!””

Nope.
Fam (can I call you fam?) - look, Fam, let me tell you, it did not go well for me.

TL;DR of that post: Nothing contradicts Schwartz. Even the timeline of bad to worse lines up. And I didn't even tell them why I was asking about that time frame before I got a few responses back.

We go from now to bad in the early-mid 2030s, bad to worse in late 2030s/2040, then spicy worse until 2045, then come up for air by the time kindergarten-age kids of today are old enough to rent a car and drive it through Mad Max: Tornado Dustbowl II.
OK, so two woo-woo data points. Who cares, right? Just stupid woo coincidence, right? How many pretend "skeptics" are screaming "confirmation bias!" at me right now? It's not zero.

But....Then we have the unfortunate triangulation of the fact that some of the less pleasant climate change models pointing to a 2.5+ degree world, which is entirely right smack-dab in the realm of possibility right now, agree with the severity of the remote viewing predictions. Expectations of a Blue Ocean event are on track for 2036-2038ish, and the remote viewing data says something happens around 2040 that is a big deal.

The 2050 and 2060 projects both agree that there are migrations: “people flee the coasts, then the Midwest becomes uninhabitable.” But like, more uninhabitable than right now. Constant tornados and floods and drought and general bad times kind of uninhabitable, not like, thinking spaghetti in your chili is still food (I’ll fight you about this, Cincinnati! Come at me!)

Now, if you’ve made it this far, you’re probably just a podcast host desperate for content. Respect.

But for real, if you’ve made it this far, it’s important to acknowledge the fact that this is a warning. This is knowledge, not to create fear, but to inform your sound choices. To be used to guide your life. Data to keep you safe and happy and doing whatever else normal people do these days. Fidget spinners? Are those still a thing? Anyway, point is that if you’re scared, you’re doing it wrong.

And look, this is a topic I’ve looked at for a long time, so there’s no way that you won’t have questions about the nuance. I would, too. Maybe questions like “I’m not clear - are you on drugs now, or do you NEED to be on drugs?”
But I’m going to get off the internet now, and let comments pile up for a while, because we have, like….8 years left to post on IG about plates of food someone else made and you just paid for. Or however you spend your time. I have 8 years left to understand why fidget spinners are a thing before I’m taking out the ball bearings and using them for ammo.

People, get your shit together. Find community. Be compassionate and kind. Learn to garden. Get in shape. Touch grass.
And vote, FFS. Not for America’s first kitty-cat president, I mean, not YET. Vote for humans now so we can have cats later.

I'll update this as I go. Please check back when you can and point out errors if you can find any.

GameStop (GME) Deep Dive (DD)

Hey Apes! 🦍🚀
Let's dive into a comprehensive analysis of GameStop (GME), covering key factors that could influence the stock price, technical analysis, potential catalysts, market sentiment, and important dates. This DD aims to provide a well-rounded understanding of what might impact GME in the near future.

Potential Failure of the LULD Mechanism and Its Impact on a MOASS

The Limit Up-Limit Down (LULD) mechanism is designed to prevent extreme volatility by setting upper and lower price bands for stocks. However, in certain scenarios, this mechanism can fail, potentially leading to the Mother of All Short Squeezes (MOASS). Here’s how this could happen, along with the mathematical implications.

How the LULD Mechanism Can Fail

1. Extreme Market Volatility:
   
   • Rapid Successive Halts: During periods of extreme volatility, the price of a stock like GME can hit the upper limit repeatedly, causing successive trading halts. This can exacerbate panic and volatility rather than calming the market.
   • Example: If GME’s price rapidly moves from $100 to $150 within a short period, hitting multiple LULD halts, it can create a feedback loop of volatility.
2. Algorithmic Trading and High-Frequency Trading (HFT):
   
   • Algorithmic Pressure: High-frequency trading algorithms can push prices rapidly, triggering the LULD bands frequently. If these algorithms continue to trade aggressively, they can cause more volatility.
   • Market Manipulation: There’s a theoretical risk that traders could manipulate prices by coordinating trades to trigger LULD bands, although such actions are illegal.
3. Technical Glitches:
   
   • System Failures: Technical issues or outages can disrupt the LULD mechanism. If trading systems fail during high volatility, it could lead to unmanaged price spikes.
4. Market Fragmentation:
   
   • Inconsistent Application: With trading occurring across multiple venues, discrepancies in how LULD bands are applied can lead to inconsistent trading halts and market confusion.

Impact on MOASS

1. Short Covering and Buy Pressure:
   
   • Short Interest: If GME has a high short interest (e.g., 64.37 million shares shorted), a rapid price increase can trigger margin calls for short sellers. They will be forced to buy back shares to cover their positions, adding to the buying pressure.
   • Example Calculation:
     • Initial Price: $20
     • Short Interest: 64.37 million shares
     • Price Increase: If the price increases to $100, short sellers might need to cover, buying back 64.37 million shares.
2. Buying Pressure Dynamics:
   
   • Mathematics of Covering:
     • If short sellers need to cover 64.37 million shares and the average daily trading volume is 10 million shares, it would take 6.437 trading days to cover without additional buying pressure.
     • However, in a MOASS scenario, buying pressure can skyrocket, reducing the time frame significantly.
3. Example Scenario:
   
   • Price Movement and Halts:
     • Day 1: Price moves from $20 to $50, triggering multiple LULD halts.
     • Day 2: Price moves from $50 to $100 due to continued buying pressure and short covering.
     • Mathematical Implication:
     • Short sellers covering 64.37 million shares at an average price of $75 would need $4.828 billion.
     • If the price moves to $200 due to continued pressure, the required funds double to $12.874 billion for covering the same short interest.

Potential for Exponential Price Increase

• Feedback Loop: As the price increases, more short sellers are forced to cover, leading to further price increases. This feedback loop can cause exponential growth in the stock price.
• Limitations of LULD: If the LULD mechanism fails to contain the volatility, the price can move rapidly, triggering more short covering and buy pressure.

Conclusion

The failure of the LULD mechanism during periods of extreme volatility, driven by high-frequency trading and market manipulation, can lead to a significant short squeeze. The mathematical implications show how rapid price increases and forced short covering can create a feedback loop, potentially leading to a MOASS. Understanding these dynamics helps investors anticipate potential market movements and the limitations of volatility contols.

Sources:

• FINRA
• Nasdaq Trader
• SEC.gov
• CNBC

Key Factors Influencing GME's Stock Price

1. Fundamental Analysis
   • Earnings Reports: GME's quarterly earnings can significantly impact the stock price. The next earnings report on June 5, 2024, is crucial. Strong financial performance or strategic announcements can boost investor confidence.
   • Revenue and Profitability: GME has reported $5.27 billion in revenue over the past 12 months with a net income of $6.70 million. Monitoring these indicators is essential for long-term valuation.
   • Debt Levels: ### Debt-to-Equity Ratio Calculation

• Short-term debt: $11 million
• Long-term debt: $23.6 million
• Total Debt: $34.6 million
• Total Equity: $1,267.2 million

Debt-to-Equity Ratio
Debt-to-Equity Ratio = Total Debt / Total Equity Debt-to-Equity Ratio = 34.6 million / 1,267.2 million Debt-to-Equity Ratio = 0.027

Summary

• Total Debt: $34.6 million
• Total Equity: $1,267.2 million
• Debt-to-Equity Ratio: 0.027

Explanation

The debt-to-equity ratio decreased from 0.045 to 0.027 due to GameStop's efforts to reduce its debt while maintaining its equity base. This lower ratio indicates a stronger equity position and less reliance on debt.

Current Creditors

GameStop's current debt includes a French term loan, part of their short-term and long-term debt obligations.

1. Technical Analysis
   • Support and Resistance Levels: Key support levels are around $20, while resistance levels are between $50 and $60. Breaking through these levels can indicate potential price movements.
   • Volume: High trading volumes can signal strong investor interest. Monitor volume spikes for potential price actions.
   • Patterns: Watch for technical patterns like the descending triangle, which is typically bearish. However, a breakout above resistance could indicate a bullish reversal.

Adjusted Float and Short Interest

Outstanding Shares: 306.19 million Minus DRS: 75.5 million Minus Institutional Holdings: Approximately 87.17 million Minus Insider Holdings: Approximately 61.46 million + Ryan Cohen's Holdings (36.847 million)
Adjusted Float Calculation: 306.19 million (Outstanding Shares) - 75.5 million (DRS) - 87.17 million (Institutional Holdings) - (61.46 million + 36.847 million) (Insider Holdings including Cohen's) = 45.213 million
Short Interest Percentage: (64.37 million / 45.213 million) * 100 ≈ 142.3%

Potential Use of Warrants and Preferred Stock

Issuing Warrants: - Concept: GameStop could issue warrants to shareholders as a dividend, e.g., 1 warrant per 7 shares owned. - Benefit: This incentivizes shareholders and provides potential to buy shares at a favorable price, creating scarcity in common stock.
Preferred Shares: - Concept: Issuing preferred shares can offer fixed dividends and have priority over common shares in liquidation. - Impact: Preferred shares require board approval and SEC filings, potentially affecting the market and short sellers by reducing the float of common shares.

Impact of 45 Million New Shares

Response to the Theory on GME's Recent S-3 Filing:

What’s Happening:

1. S-3 Filing History:
   • GameStop filed a Form S-3 to potentially issue up to 1 billion shares, with 300 million currently outstanding. This is similar to a move they made in December 2020 before the January 2021 short squeeze. The S-3 allows GameStop to register securities quickly and respond swiftly to market conditions.
   • Source: www.investing.com

Why This Matters:

1. Two Possible Outcomes for Shorts:
   • Accept the Offer: Shorts could buy the offered shares, admitting their positions and potentially converting to longs.
   • Decline the Offer: If shorts don’t accept, it exposes the extent of their naked short positions, revealing potential fraud.

Strategic Implications:

1. Regulator Signal:
   • This filing signals to the SEC that GameStop is willing to resolve the situation constructively, placing the onus on shorts to reveal their positions. This strategic move puts pressure on shorts and highlights the transparency and compliance of GameStop’s management.

Relevant Data and Comparisons:

1. Historical Context and Data:
   
   • December 2020 Example: Before the January 2021 short squeeze, GameStop made a similar filing. The shorts didn’t cover, leading to a massive price surge. For instance, the stock price skyrocketed from around $20 to an intraday high of $483 on January 28, 2021.
   • Current Short Interest: As of May 2024, GME’s short interest remains high, with 64,373,343 shares short, representing 20.55% of the float. This high short interest indicates a significant potential for another short squeeze if the shorts are forced to cover.
   • Sources: www.tradingview.com, www.investing.com
2. Market Reactions and Patterns:
   
   • Volume and Price Data: Recent high trading volumes and price surges, such as GME’s rise to $80 in pre-market trading, suggest strong market reactions to strategic filings and movements. This pattern mirrors past events and indicates potential future volatility.
   • Source: www.tradingview.com

Comparisons to Other Companies:

1. Tesla (TSLA):
   
   • Similar Scenario: Tesla faced significant short interest and skepticism but managed to drive its stock price up through strong financial performance and strategic moves. Retail investor support played a crucial role, forcing shorts to cover and leading to a massive short squeeze. For instance, Tesla's stock price increased from around $50 in 2019 to over $800 in 2021.
   • Result: Tesla's market cap increased substantially, showcasing the power of strategic corporate actions combined with retail investor momentum.
2. Volkswagen (VW) 2008:
   
   • Historical Short Squeeze: Volkswagen became the world’s most valuable company briefly in 2008 during a short squeeze when Porsche revealed it had a majority stake in VW. This forced short sellers to cover their positions at significantly higher prices, causing the stock price to soar from around €210 to over €1,000 within a few days.
   • Impact: The stock price soared, illustrating the potential power of strategic moves and market reactions, similar to what could happen with GameStop if shorts are forced to cover.

Conclusion:

This isn’t about diluting shares but offering shorts a way out and proving to regulators that GameStop is handling this responsibly. Whether shorts accept or decline, their actions will reveal the extent of their positions, potentially leading to a significant market impact.
Stay strong, apes! 🚀🦍💎🙌
Sources: - MarketBeat: www.marketbeat.com - Yahoo Finance: uk.finance.yahoo.com - TradingView: www.tradingview.com - Investing.com: www.investing.com
GameStop recently authorized the issuance of up to 45 million new shares. Here's the potential impact on the stock and short interest:

1. Dilution Effect:
   
   • Outstanding Shares Increase: The total outstanding shares would increase from 306.19 million to 351.19 million if all 45 million shares are issued.
   • Adjusted Float Calculation: ``` 351.19 million (New Outstanding Shares)
     • 75.5 million (DRS)
     • 87.17 million (Institutional Holdings)
     • (61.46 million + 36.847 million) (Insider Holdings including Cohen's) = 90.213 million ```
2. Revised Short Interest Percentage: (64.37 million / 90.213 million) * 100 ≈ 71.37%
   

Upcoming Key Dates

• May 24, 2024: FINRA CAT Reporting - Ensuring all material inconsistencies are resolved.
• May 31, 2024: FINRA CAT Full CAIS Compliance Go-Live - Enhancing market transparency.
• June 5, 2024: GME Q1 2024 Earnings Report - Potential for strategic announcements.
• June 21, 2024: LEAPS expiration date - Options with significant open interest can create volatility as market makers hedge their positions.
• September 5, 2024: GME Q2 2024 Earnings Report.
• December 5, 2024: GME Q3 2024 Earnings Report.
• January 2, 2025: SEC Rule Implementation - Increased transparency in short selling.

Recent Technical Analysis Insights

Support and Resistance Levels: - Support: Key support levels for GME appear around $20. These levels provide a base where the stock has historically found buying interest. - Resistance: Significant resistance levels are around $50-$60. Breaking through these levels could indicate further upward momentum.
Volume Trends: - High trading volumes during the January 2021 short squeeze indicate strong market interest. Monitoring volume can help gauge the strength of price movements.
Technical Patterns: - Descending Triangle: The recent chart shows a descending triangle pattern, which is typically bearish. However, a breakout above the resistance line could signal a reversal and potential price increase.

Projected Movements

Short Squeeze Potential: - High Short Interest: With 64.37 million shares shorted, any significant buying pressure could trigger a short squeeze, driving the price up dramatically.
Upcoming Catalysts: - Earnings Report on June 5, 2024: Positive earnings or strategic announcements could boost investor confidence and drive the stock price higher. - Regulatory Deadlines on May 24 and May 31, 2024: Increased transparency and regulatory compliance could impact market dynamics. Nice one, but you forgot one hype date:
investor.gamestop.com
2024 Annual Meeting of Stockholders (“annual meeting”) on Thursday, June 13, 2024 at 10:00 a.m., CDT

LEAPS and Other MOASS Theories

LEAPS (Long-Term Equity Anticipation Securities): - Concept: LEAPS are options with expiration dates longer than one year. They can be used by investors to gain leveraged exposure to GME's price movements over a longer period. - Impact: If retail investors continue to buy LEAPS, it can create significant upward pressure on the stock price as market makers hedge their positions by buying the underlying stock.
Preferred Shares and Warrants: - Issuance of Preferred Shares or Warrants: GME could issue preferred shares or warrants to shareholders, creating additional buying pressure as these instruments are exercised.
Naked Short Selling and Regulatory Compliance: - May 24, 2024: Deadline for resolving all outstanding material inconsistencies for FINRA CAT reporting, increasing market transparency and potentially impacting short selling practices. - January 2, 2025: Implementation of new SEC rules, which could further enhance market transparency and impact short interest reporting.

New Data: Ryan Cohen's Insider Transactions

Insider Transactions: - Ryan Cohen: Recent Form 4 from 2023 filing shows Cohen acquired 253,204 shares at $22.2485 and 190,638 shares at $22.9075. Total shares beneficially owned after transactions are 36,657,204 and 36,847,842 respectively.

Conclusion

While predicting GME's exact price movements is challenging, several factors suggest potential for upward movement: - High Short Interest: Potential for a short squeeze. - Technical Indicators: Key support levels and potential breakout patterns. - Market Sentiment: Positive retail investor activity and upcoming catalysts. - LEAPS and Other MOASS Theories: Additional strategies like LEAPS and preferred shares could contribute to upward pressure.

Verified Sources

• Fintel: fintel.io
• MarketBeat: marketbeat.com
• Stock Analysis: stockanalysis.com
• FINRA: finra.org
• SEC: sec.gov

Theoretical MOASS (Mother of All Short Squeezes) and Potential Prices for GME

Understanding the potential outcomes of a MOASS for GameStop (GME) involves several key factors and calculations. Here, we'll break down some of the critical components that could influence the theoretical prices during a MOASS.

Key Factors

1. Short Interest and Float: The higher the short interest relative to the float, the more pressure on short sellers to cover their positions, potentially driving the price up.
2. Buy-In Pressure: Retail investors holding and buying more shares can create scarcity, driving the price higher as shorts scramble to cover.
3. Market Dynamics and Liquidity: As the price rises, liquidity becomes a significant factor. Higher prices may lead to increased volatility and rapid price swings.

Short Interest and Float Calculation

Using the current data:
Outstanding Shares: 306.19 million Minus DRS: 75.5 million Minus Institutional Holdings: Approximately 87.17 million Minus Insider Holdings: Approximately 61.46 million + Ryan Cohen's Holdings (36.847 million)
Adjusted Float Calculation: 306.19 million (Outstanding Shares) - 75.5 million (DRS) - 87.17 million (Institutional Holdings) - (61.46 million + 36.847 million) (Insider Holdings including Cohen's) = 45.213 million
Short Interest: 64.37 million shares

Theoretical MOASS Price Calculation

The theoretical price during a MOASS can vary widely based on the demand for shares and the willingness of retail investors to hold their positions. Here are a few scenarios to consider:

Scenario 1: Moderate Short Covering

• Assumption: Shorts begin covering at higher prices but still face resistance from retail holders.
• Estimated Price Range: $200 to $1,000 per share

Scenario 2: High Short Covering Pressure

• Assumption: Increased buying pressure as shorts are forced to cover more aggressively.
• Estimated Price Range: $1,000 to $5,000 per share

Scenario 3: Extreme MOASS Scenario

• Assumption: Significant short covering with extremely limited float due to strong retail holding.
• Estimated Price Range: $5,000 to $50,000+ per share

Important Considerations

1. Regulatory Impact: Changes in regulations, such as those from the SEC or FINRA, could impact the dynamics of short selling and buying pressure.
2. Market Sentiment: Market sentiment and external factors like news, earnings reports, and strategic announcements can significantly impact the stock price.
3. Psychological Factors: The psychological impact on both retail investors and institutional players can lead to irrational price movements, either upwards or downwards.

Conclusion

Predicting the exact price during a MOASS is challenging due to the many variables involved. However, understanding the key factors and potential scenarios can provide a framework for what might happen. Stay informed, and always be cautious with your investments.
Stay strong, apes! TO THE MOON! 🚀🦍💎🙌

这是一篇为所有中国同胞写的中英双语帖子，为了让所有人都能看懂，我会全部如实写成中英文两版，不但可以为中国战友提供一个温暖的港湾，也可以让所有其他地区的人知道中国战友与他们同在！本文章仅代表个人看法，不构成任何投资建议。 This is a bilingual post written for all Chinese Apes in both Chinese and English. To make this post understandable to all of us, I will write everything faithfully in both Chinese and English versions. Not only can this provide a warm harbor for Chinese people, but it can also let people from all over the world know that an extremely strong Chinese army is standing with them!! This article represents only my personal views and does not constitute any investment advice.
首先，我们这次战斗的最终目的是让看空这只股票的对冲基金付出惨痛的代价！！大家一致的目标应该是收割华尔街空头口袋里的钱，而不是做T低买高卖收割战友的钱。而达成这一目标我们要做的是低价买入并坚定持有，等待股价飞涨，最终形成轧空。当价格足够高的时候，做空机构就会权衡利弊，放弃抵抗被迫平仓以数十亿甚至数百亿的代价回购将来可能涨到50块甚至上百块一股的股票。到时候因为做空机构的大量回购，就会进一步推动股价继续飞速上升，到达更高，那一刻才是我们的最终胜利！ First of all, our ultimate goal in this battle is to make the hedge funds that are shorting this stock pay a painful price!! Our objective should be to harvest the money from the pockets of Wall Street shorts, rather than engaging in short-term trading to harvest money from our brothers and sisters. To achieve this goal, all we need to do is to BUY the DIP and HODL, waiting for the stock price to rise and finally cause a short squeeze. When the price is high enough, hedge funds institutions will weigh the pros and cons, give up resistance, and be forced to cover their positions at a cost of tens of billions or even hundreds of billions to buy back the stock, which may rise to $50 or even hundreds of dollars per share in the future. At that moment, due to the massive buybacks by short-selling institutions, the stock price will be further propelled upwards rapidly, reaching even higher levels, which will be our ultimate victory!
而此战我们的初步战略目标是从5月16日开始算起连续10个交易日FFIE收盘（美东时间下午4：00）价格保持在1以上不退市，就可以撤销纳斯达克的退市要求。首先你需要知道，在纳斯达克上市的股票如果连续30个交易日收盘价格低于1美元，就可能面临退市风险。纳斯达克会向公司发出通知，要求其在收到通知后的180个日历日内将股价提高到至少1美元，并保持至少10个连续交易日。目前FFIE公司已经收到了通知，并且开始10个交易日倒计时，我们必须要首先保证FFIE不会退市。为了做到这一点，已经有数十万来自全球各地的散户战友集结于此守在1块钱，随时准备买进，抵挡住空头大军的攻击，此刻，我们固若金汤！但即使某天闭市价格低于1，也不必惊慌，退市之前都随时有机会卷土重来！请继续持有！ In this battle, our initial strategic objective is to ensure that the FFIE closing price remains above $1 for ten consecutive trading days, starting from May 16th, to avoid permanently delisting by Nasdaq. You need to understand that for stocks listed on Nasdaq, if the closing price remains below $1 for thirty consecutive trading days, they may face delisting risk. Nasdaq notifies the company, requiring it to increase the stock price to at least $1 within 180 calendar days of receiving the notification, and maintain it for at least ten consecutive trading days. Currently, FFIE has received the notification and the countdown of ten trading days has begun. We must ensure first and foremost that FFIE does not get delisted. To achieve this, hundreds of thousands of retail comrades from around the world have gathered here, ready to buy at $1 and resist the attacks of the short sellers. At this moment, we stand as solid as a rock! But even if the closing price is below 1 on a certain day, no need to panic at all! We always have the opportunity to make a comeback until the stock is delisted! Please keep HOLDING!
目前截至5月21日，我们的战斗已经连续胜利了3天，还需再努力坚持7天，我们就可以达成初步胜利！而这个过程亦是让世界的焦点凝聚于我们的过程，只要让全世界看到我们的团结和壮大，就可以吸引更多志同道合的人，壮大队伍，甚至吸引名人和做多机构的加入，朝着更高的价格一路高歌猛进！🌟🚀
As of May 21st, our battle has been continuously victorious for 3 days. With another 7 days of determined effort, we can achieve preliminary victory! This process also draws the world’s attention to us. By showcasing our unity and strength, we can attract like-minded individuals, enlarge our community, and even entice celebrities and organizations to join us, marching forward, full sail ahead! 🌟🚀
而我们作为散户团体所要坚持的只有一句话，**逢低买入并坚定持有！逢低买入并坚定持有！逢低买入并坚定持有！**重要的事情说三遍。
As retail investors, we only need to remember one phrase: “BUY the DIP and HODL!” BUY the DIP and HODL! BUY the DIP and HODL! Important things are worth repeating three times.
这么喊的原因：
Reasons for this:
为什么要逢低？因为当买入价格够低，股票在购买价格之上波动的时候心态才会更稳定，不会因为机构砸盘而过分恐慌。
Why Buy the DIP? Because when the buying price is low enough and the stock fluctuates above the buying price, the mentality will be more stable and people will not panic sell because of the institution's attack.
为什么要坚定持有？因为越来越多的人坚定持有，市场上流通的可交易股票数量就会越来越少，空头机构可操作的空间就会越来越小，无法操纵价格，从而无力回天。每次担心成本过高或者做T的买卖操作，都会成为空头机构的棋子和韭菜。所以请坚定持有！
Why should we HOLD? When more and more people are holding, the number of tradable shares available in the market will decrease, reducing the space for short-selling institutions to operate. This makes it impossible for them to manipulate the price, rendering them powerless. Every time you worry about high costs or engage in quick buy and sell operations (like day trading), you become the chess of institutions and your money get reaped by them. So, please HOLD!
而如果你已经买了，你不需要担心自己是不是买的价格稍微高了，因为如果我们胜利，价格将会是几十或者几百，几十倍翻倍，不差这点买入价格。
Additionally, if you have already bought in, you don’t need to worry if your purchase price was a bit high because if we succeed, the price will be in the tens or hundreds, multiplying many times over, so a slightly higher buying price won't matter.
在这十天中，空头机构可能会想尽一切肮脏的手段制造各种舆论压力，社区关闭，并让股价下跌和造成恐慌，请心情忐忑的散户朋友们不要慌张，我们有数十万的散户坚守在这里，所有人都与你同在！在上周五，下作的做空机构突然关闭了Reddit上Roaringkitty板块，让大家变成了无头苍蝇，但在周五最后，我们还是坚持住了最后一道防线，险胜空头。而这个周末，我们的各种社区频道在Discord, Reddit, Tiktok, Youtube, Instagram以及X（Twitter)如雨后春笋般到处野蛮生长，空头机构已经再也无法造成任何恐慌，打不倒我们的只会让我们更强大！！而我们中国人更是有一句人尽皆知的俗语，一鼓作气再而衰三而竭。周五第一波我们扛住了，相信后面空头的气势只会越来越弱。
In these ten days, short-selling institutions may try every dirty trick to create various public opinion pressures, close communities, and cause stock prices to fall and create panic. Retail investors who are feeling uneasy, please don't panic. We have hundreds of thousands of retail investors holding the line here; we are together! On last Friday, the unscrupulous short-selling institutions suddenly shut down the Roaringkitty section on Reddit, leaving everyone like headless chickens. But by the end of Friday, we still held the last line of defense and narrowly defeated the shorts. Over the weekend, our various community channels on Discord, Reddit, TikTok, YouTube, Instagram, and X (Twitter) sprang up like mushrooms after rain. The short-selling institutions can no longer cause any panic; What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger! And we Chinese have a well-known saying, 'Charge with the first drum, wane with the second, and be exhausted by the third.' We withstood the first wave on Friday, and we believe the momentum of the shorts will only get weaker from here on.
最后，我们要让以后的人也知道，我们为了这场和华尔街空头的战斗都做了什么！从周五最后一秒股价的力挽狂澜，到各个社区的崛起，以及各种多语言网站的搭建。我们还有百万粉丝油管UP和百万粉丝Tiktok大佬的加入。而这一切只用了短短两天，在这里大家互相鼓励，互相学习股票知识以及同步信息，无论老少男女，每个人都在尽自己所能为胜利而战！而我们中国人在这次战役中也发挥着举足轻重的作用！我们必须要尽一切可能让所有人听到数十万中国人的声音！让说英语的人知道，他们不是孤单的。
让我们一起坚定持有！！！HODL!!!!!!
Finally, we must let future people know what we did in this battle against Wall Street shorts! From the last-second rally in stock prices on Friday to the rise of various communities and the establishment of multi-language websites. We also had the support of YouTubers with millions of followers and TikTok stars with millions of fans. And all this was achieved in just two short days. Here, everyone encourages each other, learns about stocks together, and shares information voluntarily. Regardless of age or gender, everyone is doing their best to fight for victory! We Chinese also play a crucial role in this battle! We must do everything possible to make the voices of hundreds of thousands of Chinese heard! Let English speakers know they are not alone.
Let's HODL together!!!!!!!!