Source: https://home.iitk.ac.in/~hcverma/Article/Macaulay-Minutes.pdf

As it seems to be the opinion of some of the gentlemen who compose the Committee of Public Instruction that the course which they have hitherto pursued was strictly prescribed by the British Parliament in 1813 and as, if that opinion be correct, a legislative act will be necessary to warrant a change, I have thought it right to refrain from taking any part in the preparation of the adverse statements which are now before us, and to reserve what I had to say on the subject till it should come before me as a Member of the Council of India.
It does not appear to me that the Act of Parliament can by any art of contraction be made to bear the meaning which has been assigned to it. It contains nothing about the particular languages or sciences which are to be studied. A sum is set apart "for the revival and promotion of literature, and the encouragement of the learned natives of India, and for the introduction and promotion of a knowledge of the sciences among the inhabitants of the British territories." It is argued, or rather taken for granted, that by literature the Parliament can have meant only Arabic and Sanscrit literature; that they never would have given the honourable appellation of "a learned native" to a native who was familiar with the poetry of Milton, the metaphysics of Locke, and the physics of Newton; but that they meant to designate by that name only such persons as might have studied in the sacred books of the Hindoos all the uses of cusa-grass, and all the mysteries of absorption into the Deity. This does not appear to be a very satisfactory interpretation. To take a parallel case: Suppose that the Pacha of Egypt, a country once superior in knowledge to the nations of Europe, but now sunk far below them, were to appropriate a sum for the purpose "of reviving and promoting literature, and encouraging learned natives of Egypt," would any body infer that he meant the youth of his Pachalik to give years to the study of hieroglyphics, to search into all the doctrines disguised under the fable of Osiris, and to ascertain with all possible accuracy the ritual with which cats and onions were anciently adored? Would he be justly charged with inconsistency if, instead of employing his young subjects in deciphering obelisks, he were to order them to be instructed in the English and French languages, and in all the sciences to which those languages are the chief keys?
The words on which the supporters of the old system rely do not bear them out, and other words follow which seem to be quite decisive on the other side. This lakh of rupees is set apart not only for "reviving literature in India," the phrase on which their whole interpretation is founded, but also "for the introduction and promotion of a knowledge of the sciences among the inhabitants of the British territories"-words which are alone sufficient to authorize all the changes for which I contend.
If the Council agree in my construction no legislative act will be necessary. If they differ from me, I will propose a short act rescinding that I clause of the Charter of 1813 from which the difficulty arises.
The argument which I have been considering affects only the form of proceeding. But the admirers of the oriental system of education have used another argument, which, if we admit it to be valid, is decisive against all change. They conceive that the public faith is pledged to the present system, and that to alter the appropriation of any of the funds which have hitherto been spent in encouraging the study of Arabic and Sanscrit would be downright spoliation. It is not easy to understand by what process of reasoning they can have arrived at this conclusion. The grants which are made from the public purse for the encouragement of literature differ in no respect from the grants which are made from the same purse for other objects of real or supposed utility. We found a sanitarium on a spot which we suppose to be healthy. Do we thereby pledge ourselves to keep a sanitarium there if the result should not answer our expectations? We commence the erection of a pier. Is it a violation of the public faith to stop the works, if we afterwards see reason to believe that the building will be useless? The rights of property are undoubtedly sacred. But nothing endangers those rights so much as the practice, now unhappily too common, of attributing them to things to which they do not belong. Those who would impart to abuses the sanctity of property are in truth imparting to the institution of property the unpopularity and the fragility of abuses. If the Government has given to any person a formal assurance-nay, if the Government has excited in any person's mind a reasonable expectation-that he shall receive a certain income as a teacher or a learner of Sanscrit or Arabic, I would respect that person's pecuniary interests. I would rather err on the side of liberality to individuals than suffer the public faith to be called in question. But to talk of a Government pledging itself to teach certain languages and certain sciences, though those languages may become useless, though those sciences may be exploded, seems to me quite unmeaning. There is not a single word in any public instrument from which it can be inferred that the Indian Government ever intended to give any pledge on this subject, or ever considered the destination of these funds as unalterably fixed. But, had it been otherwise, I should have denied the competence of our predecessors to bind us by any pledge on such a subject. Suppose that a Government had in the last century enacted in the most solemn manner that all its subjects should, to the end of time, be inoculated for the small-pox, would that Government be bound to persist in the practice after Jenner's discovery? These promises of which nobody claims the performance, and from which nobody can grant a release, these vested rights which vest in nobody, this property without proprietors, this robbery which makes nobody poorer, may be comprehended by persons of higher faculties than mine. I consider this plea merely as a set form of words, regularly used both in England and in India, in defence of every abuse for which no other plea can be set up.
I hold this lakh of rupees to be quite at the disposal of the Governor-General in Council for the purpose of promoting learning in India in any way which may be thought most advisable. I hold his Lordship to be quite as free to direct that it shall no longer be employed in encouraging Arabic and Sanscrit, as he is to direct that the reward for killing tigers in Mysore shall be diminished, or that no more public money shall be expended on the chaunting at the cathedral.
We now come to the gist of the matter. We have a fund to be employed as Government shall direct for the intellectual improvement of the people of this country. The simple question is, what is the most useful way of employing it?
All parties seem to be agreed on one point, that the dialects commonly spoken among the natives of this part of India contain neither literary nor scientific information, and are moreover so poor and rude that, until they are enriched from some other quarter, it will not be easy to translate any valuable work into them. It seems to be admitted on all sides, that the intellectual improvement of those classes of the people who have the means of pursuing higher studies can at present be affected only by means of some language not vernacular amongst them.
What then shall that language be? One-half of the committee maintain that it should be the English. The other half strongly recommend the Arabic and Sanscrit. The whole question seems to me to be-which language is the best worth knowing?
I have no knowledge of either Sanscrit or Arabic. But I have done what I could to form a correct estimate of their value. I have read translations of the most celebrated Arabic and Sanscrit works. I have conversed, both here and at home, with men distinguished by their proficiency in the Eastern tongues. I am quite ready to take the oriental learning at the valuation of the orientalists themselves. I have never found one among them who could deny that a single shelf of a good European library was worth the whole native literature of India and Arabia. The intrinsic superiority of the Western literature is indeed fully admitted by those members of the committee who support the oriental plan of education.
It will hardly be disputed, I suppose, that the department of literature in which the Eastern writers stand highest is poetry. And I certainly never met with any orientalist who ventured to maintain that the Arabic and Sanscrit poetry could be compared to that of the great European nations. But when we pass from works of imagination to works in which facts are recorded and general principles investigated, the superiority of the Europeans becomes absolutely immeasurable. It is, I believe, no exaggeration to say that all the historical information which has been collected from all the books written in the Sanscrit language is less valuable than what may be found in the most paltry abridgments used at preparatory schools in England. In every branch of physical or moral philosophy, the relative position of the two nations is nearly the same.
How then stands the case? We have to educate a people who cannot at present be educated by means of their mother-tongue. We must teach them some foreign language. The claims of our own language it is hardly necessary to recapitulate. It stands pre- eminent even among the languages of the West. It abounds with works of imagination not inferior to the noblest which Greece has bequeathed to us,-with models of every species of eloquence,-with historical composition, which, considered merely as narratives, have seldom been surpassed, and which, considered as vehicles of ethical and political instruction, have never been equaled-with just and lively representations of human life and human nature,-with the most profound speculations on metaphysics, morals, government, jurisprudence, trade,-with full and correct information respecting every experimental science which tends to preserve the health, to increase the comfort, or to expand the intellect of man. Whoever knows that language has ready access to all the vast intellectual wealth which all the wisest nations of the earth have created and hoarded in the course of ninety generations. It may safely be said that the literature now extant in
that language is of greater value than all the literature which three hundred years ago was extant in all the languages of the world together. Nor is this all. In India, English is the language spoken by the ruling class. It is spoken by the higher class of natives at the seats of Government. It is likely to become the language of commerce throughout the seas of the East. It is the language of two great European communities which are rising, the one in the south of Africa, the other in Australia,-communities which are every year becoming more important and more closely connected with our Indian empire. Whether we look at the intrinsic value of our literature, or at the particular situation of this country, we shall see the strongest reason to think that, of all foreign tongues, the English tongue is that which would be the most useful to our native subjects.
The question now before us is simply whether, when it is in our power to teach this language, we shall teach languages in which, by universal confession, there are no books on any subject which deserve to be compared to our own, whether, when we can teach European science, we shall teach systems which, by universal confession, wherever they differ from those of Europe differ for the worse, and whether, when we can patronize sound philosophy and true history, we shall countenance, at the public expense, medical doctrines which would disgrace an English farrier, astronomy which would move laughter in girls at an English boarding school, history abounding with kings thirty feet high and reigns thirty thousand years long, and geography made of seas of treacle and seas of butter.
We are not without experience to guide us. History furnishes several analogous cases, and they all teach the same lesson. There are, in modern times, to go no further, two memorable instances of a great impulse given to the mind of a whole society, of prejudices overthrown, of knowledge diffused, of taste purified, of arts and sciences planted in countries which had recently been ignorant and barbarous.
The first instance to which I refer is the great revival of letters among the Western nations at the close of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth century. At that time almost everything that was worth reading was contained in the writings of the ancient Greeks and Romans. Had our ancestors acted as the Committee of Public Instruction has hitherto noted, had they neglected the language of Thucydides and Plato, and the language of Cicero and Tacitus, had they confined their attention to the old dialects of our own island, had they printed nothing and taught nothing at the universities but chronicles in Anglo-Saxon and romances in Norman French,-would England ever have been what she now is? What the Greek and Latin were to the contemporaries of More and Ascham, our tongue is to the people of India. The literature of England is now more valuable than that of classical antiquity. I doubt whether the Sanscrit literature be as valuable as that of our Saxon and Norman progenitors. In some departments-in history for example-I am certain that it is much less so.
Another instance may be said to be still before our eyes. Within the last hundred and twenty years, a nation which had previously been in a state as barbarous as that in which our ancestors were before the Crusades has gradually emerged from the ignorance in which it was sunk, and has taken its place among civilized communities. I speak of Russia. There is now in that country a large educated class abounding with persons fit to
serve the State in the highest functions, and in nowise inferior to the most accomplished men who adorn the best circles of Paris and London. There is reason to hope that this vast empire which, in the time of our grandfathers, was probably behind the Punjab, may in the time of our grandchildren, be pressing close on France and Britain in the career of improvement. And how was this change effected? Not by flattering national prejudices; not by feeding the mind of the young Muscovite with the old women's stories which his rude fathers had believed; not by filling his head with lying legends about St. Nicholas; not by encouraging him to study the great question, whether the world was or not created on the 13th of September; not by calling him "a learned native" when he had mastered all these points of knowledge; but by teaching him those foreign languages in which the greatest mass of information had been laid up, and thus putting all that information within his reach. The languages of western Europe civilised Russia. I cannot doubt that they will do for the Hindoo what they have done for the Tartar.
And what are the arguments against that course which seems to be alike recommended by theory and by experience? It is said that we ought to secure the co- operation of the native public, and that we can do this only by teaching Sanscrit and Arabic.
I can by no means admit that, when a nation of high intellectual attainments undertakes to superintend the education of a nation comparatively ignorant, the learners are absolutely to prescribe the course which is to be taken by the teachers. It is not necessary however to say anything on this subject. For it is proved by unanswerable evidence, that we are not at present securing the co-operation of the natives. It would be bad enough to consult their intellectual taste at the expense of their intellectual health. But we are consulting neither. We are withholding from them the learning which is palatable to them. We are forcing on them the mock learning which they nauseate.
This is proved by the fact that we are forced to pay our Arabic and Sanscrit students while those who learn English are willing to pay us. All the declamations in the world about the love and reverence of the natives for their sacred dialects will never, in the mind of any impartial person, outweigh this undisputed fact, that we cannot find in all our vast empire a single student who will let us teach him those dialects, unless we will pay him.
I have now before me the accounts of the Mudrassa for one month, the month of December, 1833. The Arabic students appear to have been seventy-seven in number. All receive stipends from the public. The whole amount paid to them is above 500 rupees a month. On the other side of the account stands the following item:
Deduct amount realized from the out-students of English for the months of May, June, and July last-103 rupees.
I have been told that it is merely from want of local experience that I am surprised at these phenomena, and that it is not the fashion for students in India to study at their own charges. This only confirms me in my opinions. Nothing is more certain than that it never can in any part of the world be necessary to pay men for doing what they think pleasant
or profitable. India is no exception to this rule. The people of India do not require to be paid for eating rice when they are hungry, or for wearing woollen cloth in the cold season. To come nearer to the case before us:-The children who learn their letters and a little elementary arithmetic from the village schoolmaster are not paid by him. He is paid for teaching them. Why then is it necessary to pay people to learn Sanscrit and Arabic? Evidently because it is universally felt that the Sanscrit and Arabic are languages the knowledge of which does not compensate for the trouble of acquiring them. On all such subjects the state of the market is the detective test.
Other evidence is not wanting, if other evidence were required. A petition was presented last year to the committee by several ex-students of the Sanscrit College. The petitioners stated that they had studied in the college ten or twelve years, that they had made themselves acquainted with Hindoo literature and science, that they had received certificates of proficiency. And what is the fruit of all this? "Notwithstanding such testimonials," they say, "we have but little prospect of bettering our condition without the kind assistance of your honourable committee, the indifference with which we are generally looked upon by our countrymen leaving no hope of encouragement and assistance from them." They therefore beg that they may be recommended to the Governor-General for places under the Government-not places of high dignity or emolument, but such as may just enable them to exist. "We want means," they say, "for a decent living, and for our progressive improvement, which, however, we cannot obtain without the assistance of Government, by whom we have been educated and maintained from childhood." They conclude by representing very pathetically that they are sure that it was never the intention of Government, after behaving so liberally to them during their education, to abandon them to destitution and neglect.
I have been used to see petitions to Government for compensation. All those petitions, even the most unreasonable of them, proceeded on the supposition that some loss had been sustained, that some wrong had been inflicted. These are surely the first petitioners who ever demanded compensation for having been educated gratis, for having been supported by the public during twelve years, and then sent forth into the world well furnished with literature and science. They represent their education as an injury which gives them a claim on the Government for redress, as an injury for which the stipends paid to them during the infliction were a very inadequate compensation. And I doubt not that they are in the right. They have wasted the best years of life in learning what procures for them neither bread nor respect. Surely we might with advantage have saved the cost of making these persons useless and miserable. Surely, men may be brought up to be burdens to the public and objects of contempt to their neighbours at a somewhat smaller charge to the State. But such is our policy. We do not even stand neuter in the contest between truth and falsehood. We are not content to leave the natives to the influence of their own hereditary prejudices. To the natural difficulties which obstruct the progress of sound science in the East, we add great difficulties of our own making. Bounties and premiums, such as ought not to be given even for the propagation of truth, we lavish on false texts and false philosophy.
By acting thus we create the very evil which we fear. We are making that opposition which we do not find. What we spend on the Arabic and Sanscrit Colleges is not merely a
dead loss to the cause of truth. It is bounty-money paid to raise up champions of error. It goes to form a nest not merely of helpless placehunters but of bigots prompted alike by passion and by interest to raise a cry against every useful scheme of education. If there should be any opposition among the natives to the change which I recommend, that opposition will be the effect of our own system. It will be headed by persons supported by our stipends and trained in our colleges. The longer we persevere in our present course, the more formidable will that opposition be. It will be every year reinforced by recruits whom we are paying. From the native society, left to itself, we have no difficulties to apprehend. All the murmuring will come from that oriental interest which we have, by artificial means, called into being and nursed into strength.
There is yet another fact which is alone sufficient to prove that the feeling of the native public, when left to itself, is not such as the supporters of the old system represent it to be. The committee have thought fit to lay out above a lakh of rupees in printing Arabic and Sanscrit books. Those books find no purchasers. It is very rarely that a single copy is disposed of. Twenty-three thousand volumes, most of them folios and quartos, fill the libraries or rather the lumber-rooms of this body. The committee contrive to get rid of some portion of their vast stock of oriental literature by giving books away. But they cannot give so fast as they print. About twenty thousand rupees a year are spent in adding fresh masses of waste paper to a hoard which, one should think, is already sufficiently ample. During the last three years about sixty thousand rupees have been expended in this manner. The sale of Arabic and Sanscrit books during those three years has not yielded quite one thousand rupees. In the meantime, the School Book Society is selling seven or eight thousand English volumes every year, and not only pays the expenses of printing but realizes a profit of twenty per cent. on its outlay.
The fact that the Hindoo law is to be learned chiefly from Sanscrit books, and the Mahometan law from Arabic books, has been much insisted on, but seems not to bear at all on the question. We are commanded by Parliament to ascertain and digest the laws of India. The assistance of a Law Commission has been given to us for that purpose. As soon as the Code is promulgated the Shasters and the Hedaya will be useless to a moonsiff or a Sudder Ameen. I hope and trust that, before the boys who are now entering at the Mudrassa and the Sanscrit College have completed their studies, this great work will be finished. It would be manifestly absurd to educate the rising generation with a view to a state of things which we mean to alter before they reach manhood.
But there is yet another argument which seems even more untenable. It is said that the Sanscrit and the Arabic are the languages in which the sacred books of a hundred millions of people are written, and that they are on that account entitled to peculiar encouragement. Assuredly it is the duty of the British Government in India to be not only tolerant but neutral on all religious questions. But to encourage the study of a literature, admitted to be of small intrinsic value, only because that literature inculcated the most serious errors on the most important subjects, is a course hardly reconcilable with reason, with morality, or even with that very neutrality which ought, as we all agree, to be sacredly preserved. It is confined that a language is barren of useful knowledge. We are to teach it because it is fruitful of monstrous superstitions. We are to teach false history, false astronomy, false medicine, because we find them in company with a false religion.
We abstain, and I trust shall always abstain, from giving any public encouragement to those who are engaged in the work of converting the natives to Christianity. And while we act thus, can we reasonably or decently bribe men, out of the revenues of the State, to waste their youth in learning how they are to purify themselves after touching an ass or what texts of the Vedas they are to repeat to expiate the crime of killing a goat?
It is taken for granted by the advocates of oriental learning that no native of this country can possibly attain more than a mere smattering of English. They do not attempt to prove this. But they perpetually insinuate it. They designate the education which their opponents recommend as a mere spelling-book education. They assume it as undeniable that the question is between a profound knowledge of Hindoo and Arabian literature and science on the one side, and superficial knowledge of the rudiments of English on the other. This is not merely an assumption, but an assumption contrary to all reason and experience. We know that foreigners of all nations do learn our language sufficiently to have access to all the most abstruse knowledge which it contains sufficiently to relish even the more delicate graces of our most idiomatic writers. There are in this very town natives who are quite competent to discuss political or scientific questions with fluency and precision in the English language. I have heard the very question on which I am now writing discussed by native gentlemen with a liberality and an intelligence which would do credit to any member of the Committee of Public Instruction. Indeed it is unusual to find, even in the literary circles of the Continent, any foreigner who can express himself in English with so much facility and correctness as we find in many Hindoos. Nobody, I suppose, will contend that English is so difficult to a Hindoo as Greek to an Englishman. Yet an intelligent English youth, in a much smaller number of years than our unfortunate pupils pass at the Sanscrit College, becomes able to read, to enjoy, and even to imitate not unhappily the compositions of the best Greek authors. Less than half the time which enables an English youth to read Herodotus and Sophocles ought to enable a Hindoo to read Hume and Milton.
To sum up what I have said. I think it clear that we are not fettered by the Act of Parliament of 1813, that we are not fettered by any pledge expressed or implied, that we are free to employ our funds as we choose, that we ought to employ them in teaching what is best worth knowing, that English is better worth knowing than Sanscrit or Arabic, that the natives are desirous to be taught English, and are not desirous to be taught Sanscrit or Arabic, that neither as the languages of law nor as the languages of religion have the Sanscrit and Arabic any peculiar claim to our encouragement, that it is possible to make natives of this country thoroughly good English scholars, and that to this end our efforts ought to be directed.
In one point I fully agree with the gentlemen to whose general views I am opposed. I feel with them that it is impossible for us, with our limited means, to attempt to educate the body of the people. We must at present do our best to form a class who may be interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern, -a class of persons Indian in blood and colour, but English in tastes, in opinions, in morals and in intellect. To that class we may leave it to refine the vernacular dialects of the country, to enrich those dialects with terms of science borrowed from the Western nomenclature, and to render
them by degrees fit vehicles for conveying knowledge to the great mass of the population.
I would strictly respect all existing interests. I would deal even generously with all individuals who have had fair reason to expect a pecuniary provision. But I would strike at the root of the bad system which has hitherto been fostered by us. I would at once stop the printing of Arabic and Sanscrit books. I would abolish the Mudrassa and the Sanscrit College at Calcutta. Benares is the great seat of Brahminical learning; Delhi of Arabic learning. If we retain the Sanscrit College at Bonares and the Mahometan College at Delhi we do enough and much more than enough in my opinion, for the Eastern languages. If the Benares and Delhi Colleges should be retained, I would at least recommend that no stipends shall be given to any students who may hereafter repair thither, but that the people shall be left to make their own choice between the rival systems of education without being bribed by us to learn what they have no desire to know. The funds which would thus be placed at our disposal would enable us to give larger encouragement to the Hindoo College at Calcutta, and establish in the principal cities throughout the Presidencies of Fort William and Agra schools in which the English language might be well and thoroughly taught.
If the decision of His Lordship in Council should be such as I anticipate, I shall enter on the performance of my duties with the greatest zeal and alacrity. If, on the other hand, it be the opinion of the Government that the present system ought to remain unchanged, I beg that I may be permitted to retire from the chair of the Committee. I feel that I could not be of the smallest use there. I feel also that I should be lending my countenance to what I firmly believe to be a mere delusion. I believe that the present system tends not to accelerate the progress of truth but to delay the natural death of expiring errors. I conceive that we have at present no right to the respectable name of a Board of Public Instruction. We are a Board for wasting the public money, for printing books which are of less value than the paper on which they are printed was while it was blank-for giving artificial encouragement to absurd history, absurd metaphysics, absurd physics, absurd theology-for raising up a breed of scholars who find their scholarship an incumbrance and blemish, who live on the public while they are receiving their education, and whose education is so utterly useless to them that, when they have received it, they must either starve or live on the public all the rest of their lives. Entertaining these opinions, I am naturally desirous to decline all share in the responsibility of a body which, unless it alters its whole mode of proceedings, I must consider, not merely as useless, but as positively noxious.

​

Not for a second do I think it’s just a coincidence that Kendrick Lamar drops the sickest disses the same week I rack up two major wins.
Damn. I wish I could meme with someone about the rap beef, I’m over here laughing to my damn self on these Drake re-enactments 💀💀💀 and how fucking lit the scene is right now. Whatevs, good thing I’m my own best friend.
Kendrick literally rapped the preamble of my current wins.
“But don’t tell no lie about me, and I won’t tell truths about you”
Fuck you, psycho narc. Thought you could try to ruin me and leave me to die? I burn my own wings to raise from the ashes higher than the last time. I don’t turn the other cheek. I match the energy in truth.
Now let’s see what you do with your struggle created from within that is being brought to light for all to see. Revocation of licensure and common sense decisions as a matter to kin is now ensured in my favor. Locked and loaded, maam. Ready?
💅 always, with faith.
Remember, you started it.
“Put the wrong label on me, I'ma get 'em dropped, ayy Sweet Chin Music and I won't pass the aux, ayy How many stocks do I really have in stock? Ayy One, two, three, four, five, plus five, ayy Devil is a lie, he a 69 God, ayy Freaky-ass niggas need to stay they ass inside, ayy Roll they ass up like a fresh pack of 'za, ayy City is back up, it's a must, we outside, ayy”
Hahahahaha!! BITCH!!!!
Oh no.
I’ve upset someone letting them know I didn’t feel the same. I just knew it wasn’t what I wanted in the long run. Like I know all of me, I’m cool yo. That’s what kept limerence in that previous situation, no one’s ever asked like I do. Pretty cool for what it was, I’d like that appropriately. If all these different pieces of what I want exist, I’ll hold out till it’s an amalgamation of all. It’s nice, I just sit and attract. I’m not looking, but I’m open. And if it doesn’t, it just doesn’t. I’m in my “yes” era, because I trust that I can understand my values enough to detect within the time I’d like. Though people don’t understand and get upset with me, but I’m only bending a bit, if you keep pushing, I’ll see myself out.
I only choose me first. I don’t stay quiet. I made my complaints heard. Now if you think I’ll pick up your slack, I’ll remind you what you should be doing, don’t worry. Don’t get mad, do your job. Yes, I’m great with the kiddos, don’t mean I am the only one dealing with the meltdowns. If you can’t manage, dip, Miss. Work recognition feels so good.
Y’all giving me the silent treatment after establishing boundaries ain’t hitting like y’all think it is 🤣 it’s a vacation from your bitchass.
Energy equivalency has infiltrated the familial layer. Now they’re all seeing what I contributed to them and now only do for myself. I couldn’t walk, where were you? You watched me deteriorate, now passive aggressive when I establish I will never be that again, without any help from you. Dear parents, raise yourselves. I did. Brother, expect nothing from me, as I receive from you.
Estoy enfocada. Me, bb, fur bb, & All. 5-year plan, I’m getting us out.
Me moving in ways for my best benefit while retracting societal pressures to conform is truly something I can feel ascending within me.
I choose me. And me chooses, I. Thank You, All.
TTYL! Ima go get what I want.

So, U.B.G / The Ultimate Battle Game I see has been gaining quite a bit of attention.
One thing I've got to say is that there's a ton of biomes, areas and structures planned for the game, maybe more biomes than structures but still, I plan to add a house, shop & some odd structures within specific areas, the house is where you'll begin your adventure.
There are plenty of creatures planned for this game, such as Slimes, Flamzers & various spooky creatures, including the more... disturbingly creepy ones which are skin creatures, there's a lot of lore in this game that I'm still trying to build but, I hope it'll be a pretty good story or better.
The Only Lore I have for the landscape is that something went wrong and the elements went wild, causing the land to basically just become an elemental mess with random materials forming somehow, the other lore I have are The Screers.
The Screers are the collective name for dark shadowy entities with white glowing eyes, there's only one at the moment but more will follow soon, Doorman is the only Screer so far, I've yet to find the remaining bits of what I once had in the game.
I recently did rediscover that Doorman's true name is Sernimum, don't know why I chose that name but it probably doesn't mean anything knowing myself, I usually make random names that have no meaning or, that's what I did back then, now I give my weird words meanings.
​
There's the Mysterious Robed Figure which I need to redesign but also, I need to make the sprites for his reveal, then remake all the animations from when his robe was up for after his reveal of his identity, I liked making that one.
There's Rainbiotic stuff that I left behind sadly, this stuff is part of a strange set of items and obstacles that was just really cool, but I forgot the purpose of it, so I'll have to look back on my own videos on My Main YouTube Channel, just to get some info from myself on this rainbiotic stuff, I'm sure I put lore somewhere in those many videos.
Initially I was going to make Schremi & Liveenk a boss of a non-existing creature but I decided otherwise at some point and instead made a new slime which would have the same flipping over and becoming a different enemy mechanic, whichever state you killed it in would drop that item and not the other, so you'd actually have to have some skill to get the item you want.
I will remake the sprites for the Hacker Failsafe I made so hackers don't try anything stupid, I'll also have a mods section or whatever so you can mod the game, then if you really want the mod added into the game, I may add it in an update once the game releases its first demo.
I think a whole solar system should be a thing, this way you can actually get more materials and find more enemies that drop unique loot upon defeat.
Should I add the turn-based combat into the game as a mode? maybe I should because it'd be nice to have toggles for different styles.
​
I plan on still making stackable NBT items into the Inventory System, along with more unique features, this game will have a lot going for it, more mechanics may be added as the game's development continues.
I plan to add a ton of Foliage into the game, including the Temble Tree and anything else I've already planned will be in the game.
There are plans to add throwing mechanics to the inventory system so you can just toss it far away so there's no way you can pick it up, but if you're a collector, maybe making a sash to carry all of that, I'll add plenty of ways to organize and store a ton of items.
I also plan on adding a musical mode or SongMode for those who just want to hear some nice songs and whatnot, but there's multiple types of Music so, I'll just add as many as I can with my characters and my own custom songs.
So that means Flagiey will be in this game, I mentioned that character only a few times on one Reddit Page or, maybe it was YouTube, but either way, Flagiey is a lizard humanoid which has a pretty long tongue.
Portraits are going to be a thing in this game, you'll be-able to put it on any side of the house, even the sides, not just the back wall, all I say is just interpret the painting / portrait differently on each perspective.
There'll also be portrait / painting frame removal, incase you want to only see the picture and not have the frame blocking your wall, this will surely help in house design for your own home in the game, other furniture and Windows will be added with the same perspective thing as the portraits will.
​
Let's not forget about unused creatures from art for U.B.G, this is so I can address the giant monster I've made, the big mouthed tyrant that I made with a giant head, this thing is actually much bigger than in the art, atleast that's how I plan it.
There will be a ton of stuff potentially added into the game, such as new locations, inspired areas, unique elements and dragons.
​
Dragons will be an essential part in the magic side of U.B.G since combining elements in the Main Mode will create an elemental but, you can also create new elements to turn into elementals, you will be-able to combine elementals into a new elemental soon enough and more.
Dragons having thier own elements, Draconic elements are basically same as normal ones but much more unique, you'll see.
New locations may include, Towns, Cavernous Areas, Dungeons, Entire Dimensions and more.
​
That's all for now but expect for more plans to be added in the next Plans Post, see you then!
Hope you stay creative and have a wonderful day!

Synopsis:
"You are a monster, Adam, but you didn't choose to be. Make your first choice."\
Molded into a mindless killing machine from birth, psychic prodigy Augustus Adam makes his first real choice and frees himself from the shackles of his upbring. But it is too late.
After being tried for his crimes against humanity, he is sentenced to summary execution after a short trial. Unwilling to let his mind be studied to produce more psychics like himself, he does the only thing that ensures humanity's freedom from psychic tyranny: suicide.
Though death's embrace is sweet, it's surprisingly short as Adam awakes in an unknown forest, learning soon after that he is in a world of magic, of swords and sorcery. Accompanied by magical beasts that could flatten a mountain if they so wished, Adam sets forth into this new world, hoping to make a positive difference this time around. It was his choice, a real chance for freedom, and he wasn't about to let some demon lords, necromancers, or gods get in his way towards redemption.
***
Note:
A rewrite from a previous version, this story is a slice-of-life adventure of an young man blessed with powers but burdened by a heavy and troubled past, hoping to reconcile himself with his innate humanity. Though the premise is magic vs psychic power, I also want to explore the human heart. I believe that there is good in people, but they all need to make the choice. This story follows that line of thinking. Any and all constructive criticism is encouraged and appreciated.
Next / RoyalRoad
______
Prologue
From the moment I opened my eyes and saw the silhouettes of masked men and women looking down on my feeble body, I realized that something was wrong. I was a fully conscious and thinking mind trapped in a newborn's body. I knew not my name, nor if I ever had a life before this one, and still I recoiled from the truth laid bare before me.
It had been barely a few seconds since I emerged from that tube. I could still remember being submerged in water, my body connected to machines as it grew and matured. When I got out, I was a toddler. A baby. They checked me, ran their tests, and examined my mind.
I could remember them nodding at each other, satisfied at what they saw within me. At the time, I didn't understand their words, but now I did.
"His psychic potential is enormous. A first for the program. Make sure he survives." I remembered my mother saying. She was the leader, the head researcher of the group, and she led her team with efficiency and effectiveness.
She was my mother by blood, for she provided the egg that allowed me to form. I did not know my father, but it didn't matter. I was shaped by that woman from the moment of my conception, and controlled by her throughout my childhood. Other than that, she was nothing more to me. Nothing but a monster, a manipulative hag who shaped me into something I was not.
As I grew old, they placed me in a facility deep beneath the ground. They trained me in the ways of battle, taught me in the ways of war, and instilled upon me the obedience of a mindless drone. Despite my conscious mind, I was weak-willed and easy to manipulate. It was an ironic reality, considering that my power relied on the strength of one's will.
I knew I was being led astray, and yet it felt so good to hear their words. Their lies. The deceit.
Each year without fail they would examine my mind. They would measure my intelligence and understanding, forcing me to answer questions in all manner of subjects. Most of these subjects were beyond my child's mind to take, showing poor results that made my mother and her team frown. They hated my supposed stupidity.
Despite that, I excelled at one thing, and that thing only. Psychic powers. I remembered the first time I grabbed something with my mind. I was 2 years old, barely able to stand upright. In my frustration, I held out my hands and pulled at one of my toys in the distance. The stuffed bear moved, hurling itself towards me with surprising speed before slamming against my body. My caretaker at the time was quick to help me, but quicker still to inform my mother that it was time.
Thus began my real training. I learned how to handle my power, harnessing the potential within me. As I grew older, so did the strength I wielded. When I was 5, I destroyed a boulder with a mere clench of my hand. When I was 10, I stopped a wave of HE shells mid-air before sending them back to the tanks that fired them. When I was 15, I pulled down a warship as it descended from orbit, slamming it into the ground and leveling an entire city.
Now I was 20, cuffed and standing alone in the middle of a vast room with bright lights focused on my person. There was a device wrapped around my neck, whizzing and flickering with small lights. It was a so-called psychic dampener, a device designed to inhibit my psychic powers. It was the reason why a crowd was gathered on the nearby stands, shouting obscenities and their demands. They felt safe to do so, thinking that I was powerless.
"Death to the monster!"
"Kill him! Kill him for the demon he is!"
"Avenge our worlds!"
The courtroom was far from peaceful as it filled even more with people, all longing and clamoring for my demise. I could not blame them, and I expected justice to be swift in its judgment of my crimes.
I was a monster, there was no denying the magnitude of my crimes. Billions lay dead on my feet, their blood an ocean in which I drowned. It took me a while to realize that I was the product of a harrowing effort to create the ultimate weapon utilizing humanity's greatest asset: the mind. Specifically, it was found that a certain mutation allowed for the human brain to control reality. Unfortunately for myself, I happened to be born with the mutation. Worse yet, it was the most potent of its kind, allowing me to shatter records, and planets.
The courtroom erupted into a further uproar as the judge and jury entered the chamber, followed by a stream of additional soldiers to keep the crowd at bay. The soldiers, formerly rebels under the banner of the Colonial Freedom Movement, looked at me with disdain. A few glared with hate. Cameras pointed in my direction as flashes of light bloomed from the crowd. Journalists spoke into their microphones, reporting live for whatever network that employed them.
The presence of so many emotional humans meant that my senses were overwhelmed by the noise of human emotion. Their hate and anger were a constant stream of pain that poured into my mind with a ferocity that - if I was any weaker - would have easily killed me via an aneurysm. It felt like I was being suffocated while being nailed multiple times by a hundred hammers.
Unbearable, and yet I bore it still.
The judge came to his stand and struck down his gavel, calling the courtroom to order and silencing the crowd. All eyes were on the judge as he cleared his throat and began to speak.
"Through the powers vested in me by the Laws of the Transitionary Government for the Restoration of Humanity, I hereby begin the hearing of Augustus Adam for multiple counts of crimes against humanity and multiple counts of war crimes too long and varied to name. This court is now in session."
The session took a mere 30 minutes. Prosecutors flooded the floor with accusations and evidence to back them up. Scenes of destruction and death were projected in 3D holographic images for everyone to see. An entire list of my atrocities was read out, only for the prosecutor to claim that it was an incomplete compilation.
It was impressive to hear and see how extensively they documented my actions through the decade-long galactic civil war. My mother told me that the colonies deserved to be brought low for their rebellion, conveniently leaving out the many, many facts of repression and inequality.
The crowd grew ever restless throughout the sham trial. I felt the intense gazes as voices rose once more. Dozens of cameras zoomed on my face, trying to see if I would react in any way. I gave them a blank expression, keeping my thoughts to myself.
If I had been the person I was a few years ago, I would have collapsed the courtroom, killing everyone inside before escaping. The psychic dampener was utterly useless. It worked on other psychics, but not on me. The gap between my powers and the others with the same power was so wide it's almost imperceptible.
But I was not my mother's son anymore. I was alone, and I felt regret. Regret for my crimes. Regret for not realizing sooner the monster I was becoming. Regret for not acting against it sooner. I was, indeed, a monster. However, no amount of repayment would be enough to make amends. I had to die.
Everyone knew I was guilty and my punishment had already been prepared beforehand. Immediate execution. When the show concluded, the judge and jury unanimously agreed on my punishment. I was to be put to death by firing squad, with what remained of my brain to be stored for further research. This was met with thunderous applause.
After the trial, I was led out into an open yard by the soldiers while the crowd surrounded us. Many were eager to kill me themselves. They pushed and shoved, trying their hardest to get through the wall of power-armor.
A bright sun greeted me as I looked at the sky. There were no clouds to offer shade for there was only the clear blue sky, and the collective cacophony of humanity demanding my blood.
I was left alone in the middle of the yard. My cuffs were removed while my dampener was tightened further. After that, a line of soldiers took positions several meters away in front of me. They raised their rifles and aimed their sights, but as they were about to pull the trigger, the world stopped.
A wave of psychic energy exploded from my person, destroying the psychic dampener around my neck before shoving back the crowd and soldiers.
I raised both my arms and looked at the crowd, their hateful eyes replaced by fear and horror. This was my mark on the human race, my legacy in history. I was a monster in a human's body, a dreadful existence that did not deserve to continue any longer.
I opened my fists, felt my head, and clenched.
My ears rang and my eyes blurred. The world slowed down as I felt my brain implode into itself. I subconsciously tried to fight back against my own attempt as two sides of the same power rammed against one another.
In the end, my will to die won. My final moments were grotesque. An implosion of flesh and brain matter, followed by a catastrophic explosion that left a crater where I stood, a violent result of me crushing matter too tightly together in a small space.
My mind was potent enough to know my final moments up until when the last threads of my consciousness were severed forever. What I did not expect, however, was to see my life flash before my eyes. It was as if I was reliving every single moment.
As the memories rolled, so too did my emotions boil. I felt anger and sadness, regret and horror. The human mind was capable of great calamity, drawn to destruction and even malice. But it was also capable of kindness and good deeds. In the end, what separated humans from other animals was our humanity, our inherent capacity to care and do good.
I realized this when I made a choice. My first ever free choice. The horrified look of my mother as I clenched down on her throat was a priceless sight. I freed myself from the clutches of a mad woman and struck her down, removing my chains. In doing so, I became a weapon no more. Merely a tool, a criminal, a monster.
Now I was not a slave to any other but my own hate and anger. Hate against myself. Anger against my actions. I could have, and should have, done better. The choice I made could've been done sooner. Billions would still be alive.
The sharp pain I felt was replaced by an icy chill. Eventually, coldness filled my mind and numbness overtook the rest of my body. The memories faded away, giving space for one more brief glimpse of the world I was soon to leave behind.
I saw myself splattered against the dusty ground as blood formed a pool around my soon-to-be corpse. My mind looked around one last time, using what remained of my power to see the world. The crowd looked in stunned silence. The soldiers walked towards me with weapons raised, themselves alert and cautious. Confusion fluttered within all their minds. Content, I closed my psychic sight, and allowed my consciousness to fade.
And on that empty, open field, I found my demise, surrounded by the people I wronged. Maybe in a different time, I would have lived a normal life. An unimpressive yet happy existence. A life of friendship. A protector of peace.
If only.
_____
Next / RoyalRoad

In the game, both Yennefer and Triss have conducted interrogations to obtain information.
To track down the whereabouts of Dandelion, Triss interrogated an enemy spy.
To find out about Ciri's location, Yennefer interrogated Skellige, who had once saved Ciri.
Regarding the latter, hardly anyone ignores it, as it powerfully showcases Yennefer's character and, of course, sparks countless controversies and discussions.
However, the former does not receive much attention.
Nevertheless, there are many details in these two interrogation scenes that can be observed and compared.
First of all, after the interrogation scenes, players can choose to show concern for Triss or Yennefer, or they can confront them and express their disapproval.
However, strangely, for Triss's scene, the options for confrontation and concern are mutually exclusive. You can only choose one: "Triss, are you okay?" or "You were really ruthless today."
On the other hand, with Yennefer's scene, the options are completely open, allowing you to choose them one by one.
Options include:
-"Let's get out of here quickly" (the only mandatory option)
-"What's wrong with this garden?"

• "Are you okay?"

-"You should be more sympathetic to him."
Why is there such a difference?
Let's try playing through it once, and we'll be able to understand the mystery behind it.
If you show concern for Triss and ask her how she feels after the interrogation, her response would be: "Despicable, cruel, and filthy."
I personally don't quite understand why someone would feel morally "despicable, cruel, and filthy" for torturing an enemy to save a friend. Could it be that my moral standards are too low?
Or perhaps, is Triss's moral standard so high that it has reached the level of a saint?
Who could have imagined that such a saintly Triss could still be criticized?
If you choose to confront her, you'll get the more saintly Geralt!
To this confrontation, Triss's response is quite aggrieved: "I just wanted to get revenge."
If you carefully analyze it, you'll find that this answer contradicts her previous evaluation of being "despicable, cruel, and filthy."
If one wants revenge, one wouldn't feel it's despicable or filthy.
If one feels it's despicable and filthy, one shouldn't be obsessed with revenge.
If both answers coexist, it will only make Triss appear hypocritical.
Therefore, players can only ask one of these two questions to get a stable, non-superimposed version of Triss.
But this also shows that Triss's character is inherently uncertain. Whether she's a saint or an ordinary person with revengeful intentions depends entirely on the player's choice. She is flexible, malleable, and can be defined by the player.
Let's take a look at Yennefer's situation.
If you show concern for Yennefer, she will use a vivid metaphor to describe the feeling of using necromancy for interrogation.
It's like "cockroaches crawling around in your mouth or swimming in a cesspool."
You can see the difference here. Yennefer's response focuses primarily on physical sensations, while Triss's feelings center on the moral level.
One used unethical necromancy to brutally torture a harmless spirit, yet showed little moral reflection afterwards.
The other, in order to save a friend, interrogated an enemy using conventional methods, yet was deeply tormented by guilt. She felt tense and uneasy, her moral threshold plummeted, and her self-perception was precariously on the brink. She was desperate enough to seek solace by taking a bath and getting drunk.
This comparison reveals that in character development, Triss is crafted towards the direction of a "morally perfect" saint.
(In another scene, Triss openly expresses disdain for the use of necromancy, forming a stark contrast with Yennefer, further emphasizing her tendency towards moral perfection.)
On the other hand, Yennefer's portrayal aims to de-moralize her, emphasizing her fearless courage in defying all moral norms. This is a typical anti-hero narrative technique.
Such an anti-hero narrative is highly challenging. With a slip, one could end up painting the character as a true villain or even a clown.
You must ensure that your anti-hero character is logically sound, self-consistent, and able to withstand scrutiny and opposition.
Therefore, Yennefer's response options cannot exhibit the same logically suspended instability as Triss's.
In both interrogations, Geralt has the option to react negatively.
Let's first take a look at Triss's situation.
CDPR directly provides an option to intervene. You can bluntly tell her, "Triss, stop."
Although reluctant, Triss still obeyed Geralt's instructions and stopped.
What are the consequences?
If Geralt doesn't play the role of a saint, the spy would reveal that his master is King Radovid.
On the contrary, he would remain tight-lipped.
In other words, Geralt's saintly personality and Triss's obedience to him can actually affect the effectiveness of the interrogation.
So, if you successfully prevent Yennefer's interrogation, according to the game's logic, you won't be able to obtain any clues about Ciri.
Ciri would die on the Isle of Mists, and the player would have to retrieve Geralt's body from a horde of drowners.
However, is it possible for Geralt to stop Yennefer?
CDPR cleverly didn't provide a direct option to intervene.
Because you can't possibly stop Yennefer, a bear mama who is desperate to find her daughter.
Still, Geralt can play the role of a saint and express his opposition throughout the process.
But Yennefer will rebuttal him every time.
If you attempt to oppose her use of necromancy, she will mock you, asking why you don't oppose premarital sex? That's also an immoral act.
If you continue to oppose her, she will patiently explain that she is worried about Ciri and feels anxious.
If you persist in your whining, don't blame Yennefer for getting angry.
To summarize, for your untimely objections and saintly accusations, Triss may feel upset but will comply.
However, Yennefer will explain her position to you, but if you want to change her mind, you can't just talk big principles. You must propose a more viable alternative solution. If you don't have one, then sorry, do as I say and don't complain.
For Triss, the interrogation that made her feel "mean, cruel, and dirty" had the main consequence of upsetting her mood, requiring a bath and alcohol to calm her nerves.
There's not much to say about that.
But I can't help but comment that all of Triss's related plotlines lack a real sense of brutality. While this undoubtedly makes her romantic options lighter, more pleasant, with fewer moral dilemmas and more rose-colored bubbles, it also makes her character relatively one-dimensional and not particularly outstanding among similar anime-style characters.
Now, let's turn to Yennefer.
The consequences of her actions are not something that can be resolved with a drink or a bath.
Geralt asks her, "This is a sacred place, the priestesses will be furious."
In fact, he maybe be concerned about Yennefer, but as a straightforward man, we all understand.
The feisty Yennefer didn't catch his concern and retorted, "I'm trying to find a solution, and you're just whining."
Geralt sighed, "I'm worried about you, Yen. Have you thought about the consequences?"
Yennefer: "Yes."
My actions throughout my life have always been driven by my own emotions and conscience, never minding the words of others.
If I can safely find Ciri, even if I lose all my reputation and am showered with slander, so be it.
Moreover, I embrace the responsibility with generosity and composure.
'I will take on everything, it has nothing to do with Geralt.'
This kind of character portrayal was once a privilege unique to the tragic yet powerful male protagonist."
In both the original work and the game, there exists a subtle contrast between the scenes of interrogation and being interrogated.
All the scenes, settings, and plotlines related to Triss are noticeably cleaner and gentler, with the moral conflicts seemingly trivial and creating a safe and soft psychological experience.
Therefore, there are rarely players who genuinely dislike Triss, as the game hardly gives you a chance to do so. (Opposition to her mainly stems from the plot point of "betraying her best friend," rather than personal dislike towards her.)
On the contrary, Yennefer's storyline is heavier, more intense, and the conflicts are sharp and unavoidable. As a player, you either deeply fall in love with this brave and determined woman or strongly dislike her for her overbearing behavior.
The end result is that Triss tends to be portrayed as a soft-hearted moral saint (a traditional female protagonist), while Yennefer trends towards being a tragic yet powerful anti-hero (a non-typical male protagonist).
Since we're talking about torture, let's also compare the scenes of Yennefer and Triss being tortured. In the book, Yennefer was imprisoned and tortured.
The CDPR developers thought this was a great scene, full of conflict, and immediately decided to replicate it.
So they made Triss suffer the same ordeal in the game.
However, when I compare the two, it becomes clear that the torture scene in the game is just a superficial imitation.
When Triss was tortured, she knew it was temporary, lasting less than one night.
But what about Yennefer? She was tortured for months, leaving her body battered, her finger joints severely deformed, and she had no idea how long the torture would continue or if anyone would save her.
When Triss was tortured, Geralt was right next door, giving her a sense of security — there's no need to even mention love, because no normal person could bear to witness such inhumane torture. Once, I maliciously intended to torture Triss, but ultimately, I could only spam the B button to fast-forward, as I couldn't mentally handle it.
But when Yennefer was tortured, humiliated, and harmed, her body and spirit pushed to their limits, where was Geralt? He was in the safe and warm Toussaint, busy fucking Vigo.
When Triss was tortured, she knew she would be seen as a hero and receive praise and gratitude, providing her with psychological compensation.
But when Yennefer was tortured, she was falsely accused and framed by the mages (even Triss refused to clear her name). The world called her an imperial collaborator (despite being a hero of Sodden). Geralt thought she betrayed him, betrayed Ciri, and hated her, resented her, and wanted to forget her.
Yennefer's situation was truly hell.
The scene of Triss's interrogation in the game once compared to Yennefer's torture in the book, suddenly seems insignificant, like a carefully choreographed show.
Before reading the original work, I felt great sympathy for Triss during my first playthrough. I even stopped the entire operation right at the door, resorting to killing indiscriminately and missing out on Dandelion's information.
But after reading the books, during my second playthrough, I endured and let her experience the entire process.

I am NOT OOP, OOP is u/Free_River_3388
Originally posted to TrueOffMyChest
Previous BoRU
NEW UPDATE MARKED WITH ----
[New Update]: I had a baby as a result of an affair and now his wife is reaching out to me
Trigger Warnings: infidelity, past abuse, mention of abortion, deadbeat father, coercion, manipulation
RECAP
Original Post: January 28, 2023
I (F, 26) had an affair with a married man (M, 42) a few years ago. I had no clue he was married when we first met and hooked up. I obviously looked him up on social media and while he did have photos of his kids on there, there was absolutely no mention or photos of a wife at all. I found out that he was married about a month after we first got together, but he told me it was just a marriage on paper and that they basically lived separate lives and agreed to remain married for practical purposes until the kids were older. They owned a business, which she really ran and he was just financially involved in.
I knew at the time that I probably shouldn’t believe him, but I convinced myself it was true. I was in my early 20s and so attracted to him and I guess almost infatuated with him. He made me feel so good. I know now that I should have ended it immediately, but I didn’t realize what I was getting myself into. I was addicted to all of the attention he gave me, the great sex, the places he’d take me. I felt special. I was so naive.
I got pregnant about a year into seeing him. I had always been so careful with preventing pregnancy, but during my relationship with him I took stupid risks. I was so high in lust with this guy, it’s embarrassing. The things he’d asked me to do…I’d say yes to almost anything, even when I knew it was a bad idea.
I was in love with him, or I thought I was. I hadn’t intentionally wanted to get pregnant. I would of course dream about being his wife and having a family but I knew that wouldn’t be a possibility while he had this arrangement with his actual wife. I didn’t get pregnant on purpose with any intention of him leaving her for me, even if I wished that we could be a real, normal couple. I was surprised by how excited I was to be pregnant with his baby. I wanted that baby once I found out I was pregnant. The thought of carrying this baby of the man I loved was so special to me, but I knew he probably wouldn’t feel the same.
I told him I was pregnant and he told me I couldn’t keep the baby. I expected his reaction, but I was devastated and it hurt me to my core that he didn’t feel the same way I did. He offered to pay, to make a whole weekend of it somewhere exciting (wtf?) and to buy me something special if I’d just please get rid of the baby. He explained that he didn’t want any more kids and that he couldn’t openly be a father to another kid when he and his wife were still pretending to be happily married to the outside world.
I agreed to do what he wanted and we made plans for him to pick me up and find somewhere out of town to go get it done. I was all packed the night he was going to pick me up, but I started to feel really scared and really unsafe about the whole thing. I took my bag and checked myself into a hotel to hide because I couldn’t go with him. I texted him to say I promised to never contact him again and to never name him as the father or go after child support if he’d promise to leave me alone.
At first he tried to sweet talk me into doing what he wanted. When I didn’t cave in, he said some very nasty things to me and that I essentially better never contact him again or show up at his door.
I have a 2 year old now. At times, it’s been difficult, but overall we are thriving as best we can. I have kept my word about not naming his as the father or requesting child support.
His wife contacted me on social media. Well, she’s his ex-wife now. She wants to talk to me. She found out about me and told me that she divorced him 6 months ago. She wants her children to know their sibling and for my child to know his siblings. That’s weird to me.
I haven’t responded back to her yet. I am unsure about how to approach this. How to I respond to this? I wonder if I’m being selfish by not exploring an option for my child to know his siblings, if she’s being genuine about that. If I was married and my husband fathered a child outside of our marriage I don’t think I’d feel the same that she does.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
Comment 1

I didn’t know he was married when we first got together. I acknowledged that I should have ended the relationship as soon as I found out he was married. I allowed myself to believe what he told me, which made it seem not so bad - like this was some sort of agreement he and his wife had. Emotionally, I was already hooked. I’m not making excuses.
I wouldn’t say I was “happy” to bring a baby into this situation. There was a huge mix of emotions. I felt like I was in love with him, so there was a part of me that was excited at first. That feeling soon died, but I felt that I loved my baby still. I tried to do the best thing that I could, which was to remove myself from his life and his family’s life. I just wanted to be able to keep my baby and love my baby. I did not get pregnant on purpose. I wasn’t on birth control. I had been on birth control when I was slightly younger and had a life threatening health complications as a result. He knew I wasn’t on birth control. He loved unprotected sex. I was stupid and I agreed to do it. I would do almost anything he asked sexually. I tried to track my cycle and would tell him when it was probably not a safe time to do it.
His wife isn’t really what I’m afraid of. Whatever she’d want to say to me is probably deserved anyway, and more.

Comment 2

He found out about the pregnancy before I “ghosted” him. And upon finding out I was pregnant with his child, there was absolutely no real discussion about what we were going to do. We were going to do what he wanted to do and he had it all planned out. He threatened me, by text and by phone calls and voicemails, when I told him I was not going to go with him on this abortion vacation he had planned. I begged him to please not force me to do that and he turned mean. I offered to never contact him again if he’d just let me go. After threatening me again, about what he’d do if I didn’t keep my word, he agreed. He has kept his side of the bargain and has never contacted me.

Comment 3

I’ve been assuming that she found out about me in her own, maybe saw something on his phone or computer and has probably known for a while before reaching out to me (if it’s actually her).
I get what some people are saying about siblings and such, but that man is not my child’s dad. He is the dad of his older kids but he’s not the dad of my kid. I’m still young and I hope to have more children one day, and those children would be my son’s siblings. I hope to find a man who loves me and my son and with whom I can have a legitimate relationship. I haven’t been with another man since I ended things with this guy. I actually just went on 2 dates for the first time very recently. I’m not desperate to find a man right now, but I hope to find real love one day.
Those people are not my son’s family. He’s 2 and they’re old enough to drive. So, I do t think they’re missing out on any sort of important relationship right now. I understand wanting to know your bio family, and I feel he can decide that later on when he’s old enough to have a day. Depending on where we are at in our lives at the time, he might not feel a need to know those people.
I don’t plan to lie to my son about his conception, but I don’t think we need to involve ourselves with the man’s ex-wife and teenage children at this time.

 
Update: February 18, 2024
I made a post 3 weeks ago and things have only gotten stranger. I had an affair with a married man a few years ago. I regret it and I will never do anything like that ever again. I knew it was wrong from the very beginning, but he captivated me. I was naive. I allowed myself to believe when he told me they were pretty much just married on paper for the sake of their kids. I got pregnant and while he tried to talk me into getting an abortion I ultimately decided to keep the baby. I have a 2 year old little boy now. I promised this man that I wouldn’t expose our affair and I wouldn’t formally identify him as the father or request child support. I did that because he was becoming very nasty about the whole thing and I felt like due to the mess that I had created and the way I felt by the end of it, a clean break with no involvement with him would be the best thing for everyone. I moved back to where my family is, hundreds of miles from where he and his family live.
About a month ago his ex-wife reached out to me via social media, claiming they had been divorced for 6 months and that she wanted our children to be able to know each other. Now, their kids are teenagers, so I didn’t really think they’d want anything to do with the toddler and the woman their father was having an affair with. It seemed odd to me. After posting here, I sort of decided that I wouldn’t respond to her. I’d just ignore it. She just sent me the one message, so it wasn’t as if she was badgering me about talking to me or meeting me.
On Friday night I decided to message her. I don’t really know why. I think it was really just for my sake so I could have the chance to apologize to her. I told her that I would be more comfortable speaking with her face to face since I couldn’t trust that it was really her. She said she understood. I was too nervous to meet her in person, but we did a video chat. I didn’t know what to expect, if this was all a ploy just to unleash her fury on me or what. I mean, I’d deserve that. She wouldn’t be wrong to feel that way.
It was really her. She told me she discovered our affair when she found communications between the two of us, after our relationship had ended. She told me I’m one of many women he had affairs with over the years and she knew about somebody even before he met me, but she didn’t divorce him at the time. Finding out about my child was the final straw for her. I told her I was sorry for my relationship with her husband and admitted that I knew he was married. She graciously told me she forgives me and that while she harbored a lot of anger towards me initially, she ultimately blames her husband. I’m not blameless, but she chooses to not hate me, essentially. She said she couldn’t have said this 6 months ago or a year ago when she first found out about me, but she has moved past that. She still has anger toward him, in addition to many other emotions surrounding him. She started pouring out her heart to me about their 20+ year marriage and life together and it was very awkward because what do I even say?
Her kids know about me and my son. She says they’re very mad at their father. Somehow I don’t think they’re mad about the fact that he’s not involved with my son’s life. And why would they be mad about that? I would hate me if I were them.
I told her with my son being so little right now, I don’t really feel comfortable with him meeting her kids or being involved with their family. I feel unsure about it and it’s just not something I feel needs to happen right now.
Then she told me her ex husband was in a bad accident 2 months ago. He’s fine now, still not allowed to return to all his normal activities just yet, but will be fine. He is probably the most physically active person I’ve ever met, barely ever seems to sit down, so he must be terribly annoying to be around if he’s not allowed to go go go all the time. She told me he wants to meet my son. Apparently she moved back in with him temporarily when he first came home from the hospital. She said the accident really shook him up and he has been expressing a lot of regret about my son, not being involved, not providing for him.
So now it’s like was everything she said just a lie and he somehow got her to reach out to me on his behalf? And she actually did it? It felt almost like a relief talking to her initially, but then it’s like was any of that true or you were just trying to be his messenger? I don’t even know if that part is true now. Why wouldn’t he just contact me himself?
I’m just feeling so uneasy about the whole thing now.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
Comment 1

I don’t believe I HAVE to involve his teenage children in my son’s life. Maybe when my son is old enough to decide if he wants that.
He is not named on the birth certificate and I do not receive child support from him. I have asked nothing of him, except to let me move away and not try to force me to have an abortion. I basically had to promise him to not contact him, not make him as the father, not request child support.
If he truly wants involvement with my son he can reach out to my directly and he can take the legal route to establish himself as our son’s father.

Comment 2

He did not legally sever his rights. He never established rights in the first place. He has no rights until he goes to court and establishes himself as the father. He is welcome to do that.
Honestly, I wish my son did have a father who was involved in his life and loved him. Yes, this guy has faults, but he has plenty of positive qualities. He is really involved with his older children. I met them many times because they’d be at work with him or he’d have to drop by the office in his way to take them somewhere. He was always doing things with them. They seemed like good kids who really loved their dad. I wish my son could have that experience too. I didn’t think it was an option based on how he behaved when I was pregnant. He wasn’t interested and wanted me and our baby to go away. That’s what I did. And I accepted it.

Comment 3

He is not legally my son’s father at this time. This means that currently he has no legal parental rights or responsibilities regarding my son. I cannot stop him from taking the legal steps to establish paternity if he wishes to do so.
He will always be my son’s biological father. I can’t change that fact. Regardless of whether or not he ever legally establishes paternity, my son will likely be curious about his biological father and who knows, maybe they will establish a relationship one day regardless of legal paternity.
There is no way to say if I will meet a man who may want to adopt my son one day, thus becoming his legal father. It’s something that I think would be nice, but nothing that I’m “intent” on doing. By choice, I’ve only been one 2 dates since my son was born and that was only within the year 2024. I realize that it will not be as simple as signing a piece of paper.

 

----NEW UPDATE----

Update #2 - April 30, 2024 (2 months later)
I posted about this few months ago.
To summarize very quickly, when I was fresh out of college I had an affair with a married man and father. I became pregnant. He wanted me to get an abortion. He had arranged to “take me away” in a “vacation” to get an abortion. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do but I agreed to go along with what we wanted. At the last minute, when he was on his way to come pick me up, I told him I couldn’t go through with the abortion. I just really didn’t feel comfortable about his plan and how he was orchestrating everything. It scared me. I realized at that time how deep I had gone with this mistake, how screwed up the whole relationship was.
He was really mad. He threatened me, said a lot of nasty things to me. I told him if he just left me alone and let me have my baby then I’d leave him alone and wouldn’t name him as the father or seek child support. I moved back home (I was living in a different state when I met him). I kept my word and I did t it name him as the father or seek to establish paternity. I have never sought child support. My child is 2 now.
A few months ago his wife contacted me via social media. At first she made it seem like she wanted my child to have the opportunity to know his siblings. It was sort of weird since the siblings are teenagers. She said she had divorced him 6 months prior.
I agreed to talk to her virtually, not in person. I felt that I owed it to her to apologize for what I had done. I do feel bad about it. But at the end of the conversation I told her that I didn’t feel it was the appropriate time to connect my son with her kids. He’s a toddler and their teens, plus I had promised her husband to stay out of his life. That’s when she told me that he was recently in a bad accident and she had been helping to take care of him. Supposedly he was going to be fine and was fairly recovered at that point, but she said he had expressed interest to meet our child. So she was basically his messenger.
I have not been in contact with her since then. I deleted my social media. I don’t know why, but the whole thing just really made me uncomfortable.
Since I last posted here….
Then, I received a handwritten letter from him. In it, he expressed how he wanted to get to know our son, he wants to be a father to our son, he wants to provide financially for him, he’d like us to come visit him. He asked me to sign a paternity affidavit. I refused to do so. I know he is my son’s father but I’m not going to make this that easy for him. After the things he said to me and threatened me with, he at least has to work for this.
At that point, my parents felt that we needed to meet with a lawyer. All communication from me has gone through a lawyer. I have never responded to him personally/directly.
Now, I have a court order for paternity. I have to present my son to have a specimen taken tomorrow. I already know what it’s going to say.
It’s not that I don’t want my son to have a dad in his life. It’s just…the whole situation is a mess. And he lives a few states away from me. I don’t know what to do. I can’t really do anything. He’s doing things legally. Next, I’m sure he’ll petition for some form of custody or visitation. He’s not married anymore, supposedly, but he’s a lot more established than I am. He has considerably more financial resources. I also know he has all sorts of connections where he lives. Luckily they don’t hold as much weight here in my state but it’s still so scary to me.
I’m a bad mom. I brought my son into this world knowing it was a messy situation. I just got so comfortable with it just being the 2 of us and now I don’t want to give that up.
Relevant Comments
OOP on if the father would be moving closer to her and her son now that he’s divorced from his ex-wife

OOP: To touch on just a few things…
I don’t think he’ll move away from where he lives. He has way too much established there.
He’s in his early 40s. I don’t know how this supposed accident (if that even really happened) has affected him, but he was incredibly physically active when I knew him. He only slept like 4 hours a night, took a 20 minute power nap daily, and rarely ever sat down. He was also HIGHLY involved in his children’s lives. I’d even say overprotective, like a helicopter dad instead of the typical helicopter mom.

Careless_Welder_4048: How did he have time to cheat?

OOP: He only slept a few hours a night and moved at about a million miles a minute. Everyone joked about it. Somehow he always had time to get up at 5 am, go surfing, do some work, take his kids to school, do some work, take his Power Nap, get coffee, pick his kids up after school and take them wakeboarding or some other sort of thing like that, do some more work, be at his kid’s basketball game, and so on and so forth. He literally never ever stopped.
I was just another thing to help fill out his calendar to prevent him from getting bored.

OOP on the father’s relationship with his ex-wife and their children

OOP: I also don’t think he and his wife had much of a relationship, although it wasn’t quite as he described it to me. They lived in the same house but I believe they lived pretty separate lives. He bought her a business to give her something to do and keep her busy. She was there most of the time. They didn’t even go to their kids activities together. He was always the one going. So I think that freed up time too. I don’t think they liked being around each other so she was happy to have him out of the house. She admitted to me that I wasn’t the first affair he had and she knew about most of the time we were together.

 

DO NOT COMMENT IN LINKED POSTS OR MESSAGE OOPs – BoRU Rule #7

THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT OOP

So, we've been in our relationship for two years. We've had plenty of time to meet and learn from both of our families. And so... here's some context before I explain further:
He comes from an extremely loving family. Like, I've never ever met people as loving, warm, and welcoming like his parents and sister. At the beginning it was a bit overwhelming for me (more on my background later), but I learned to accept them and give in to this huge amount of love: his parents calling each other "honey" or "my love", receiving hugs and kisses from both of them, his mother saying I'm like a daughter to her, his dad calling me "princess" like he does his daughter, his sister being a big and happy sun full of warmth towards me, their happy and positive personalities, cooking dinners every Friday at their home, singing songs with their instruments or seeing them do little dances or funny sounds around the house, recording cute birthday videos for their daughter's family abroad, many hugs and kisses when greeting us or saying goodbye, inside jokes, interesting and engaging conversations in the table that involve everyone around it.
That's the family my boyfriend was raised by and grew up with. Now here's mine:
My family is the total opposite. I did not grow up with as much physical affection as my boyfriend. Ever since I was a kid, my parents had lots of discussions and a few years back I learned of their marriage problems. My mom has been asking for divorce for years but my dad refuses. They just live together but sleep in separate beds and just tolerate each other, faking a real marriage. I have never heard them call each other cute names or saw them laugh together with happiness, my mom is a very distant and reserved person, an introvert like me. My dad did give us hugs and kisses sometimes, he is much more loving than my mom. Living around the house with their problems was hard. We ate separately/at different times in the kitchen, don't excitedly greet each other, don't talk about interesting topics unless its my sisters and mom talking about fashion or what some idiot influencer did in our city (which I don't care about so I'm even less there), my dad never chimes in as he always gets mean replies from all three of them whenever he opens his mouth, our plans are eating out at restaurants or the theatre, expensive places my parents can afford for all of us. As for my sisters, I have had a very rocky relationship with them. They are 8 and 4 years older than me, always saw me as the annoying little sister, never invited me to their "grown-up" plans, always excluded me from everything. They have a much better relationship between them. And that's a whole other, very long story, but to keep it short: I believe they can't fully stand me. And thanks to my boyfriend, he made me realize that I had been emotionally abused by them since... so many years back. Their interactions with me while he was in their presence raised an alarm and he asked if I knew how bad they were treating me. They insulted me, laughed at me, bullied me so many times but it all went over my head for years until he told me. And so I've been much more distant from them, just having a polite relationship and not the sisterhood I wish we had (and believe me, I've tried to save it... I've exhausted my options and am tired of talking about this in therapy. It's been hard to accept).
//end of context//
And so, you can imagine the big shock we each had with each of our families. The bad relationship I have with my sisters is affecting him since they are not interested in establishing a friendship with him. He's been nothing but very nice towards them and still they ignore him 99% of the time. They are not interested in talking to him, whenever he asks something to them to start a conversation, they either answer curtly with no further details or give him a deadpan answer with absolutely no emotion or interest in keeping it going. He's also very shy and they have been intimidating for him (oh and I agree as they have very strong personalities, much more than my mellow, peaceful, and quiet one).
My parents love him very much, they are even much more pleased with him than with my eldest sister's husband (he's also not too keen in talking with my boyfriend, in general he's even disrespectful towards my parents). And that's saying a lot coming from two parents who emigrated from Europe and have a very conservative and religious mindset. They have never been interested in knowing much about my sister's previous boyfriends, they never met their families and even declined invitations for gatherings (my parents met my sister's husband's family on their wedding day). I have broken the mold here and have had my parents meet my boyfriend's parents and have dinner at their house as well as have them over at their place for dinner, share each other's phone numbers, even have his parents meet my ill grandmother at her place. My boyfriend's parents even gave her their late grandmother's medical bed to ease her nightly pains from cancer. My parents always tell me how nice and loving my boyfriend and his family are, so at least I'm happy with their approval which he is very aware of. They may not be as engaging in a conversation like his parents are, but at least they do talk to him and are interested in getting to know him more.
Even though it looks good with my parents, my boyfriend recently told me he is not interested in spending time with my family anymore. That he is always uncomfortable around them, can't relax or be himself like I do around his (remember, it's been 2 years). He said that he would decline their dinner invitations and not be present since they haven't been present for him. That he has tried very hard to interact with them and be respectful and nice, but the lack of reciprocity has affected him and he is done trying.
So here I am with these hurtful news. It hurts to know he is having a bad time with my family. It hurts that I can't do anything about it because that's just how my family is, has always been. I told him that many times, that he's dealing with a different culture which I grew up with, not the extroverted, merrymaking, and outgoing one in our Latin American country that is part of his family's whole background. That this would be a very big problem for us now and in the future. That we would have many problems because of this. That I'm sorry, I have wished many, many times my family was different, but I learned to swallow the hard pill and accept them, and that he should. He said he's just taken it as is, that it's not a problem if I don't make it one. But it frustrates me that it has to be this way, knowing it has affected him negatively when my parent's house should be a place that he's comfortable in.
He says he loves them as they are, but can't stand to be around the environment they create. And this hurts me... I already talked to my sisters about this, asked why weren't they more involved with him. Their replies "Cause I'm not, I have nothing to talk about with him" and, "What, you want me to invite him over for dinner and have a good time. I've asked him the questions I needed to know and just talk to him whenever I want to"... My parents said that we can't be like his parents, they are who they are and we are who we are (I know that).
Last week my eldest sister was planning a beach getaway for all of us on the weekend for my dad's birthday later this month, everything would be payed for by them. I asked my boyfriend and he declined saying he wasn't excited to spend a whole weekend with my family ignoring him. Even though this is about my dad which he likes a lot. And, I just came back from my parent's house, everyone was there except my brother in-law. My boyfriend came by a bit before he went to a soccer practice next door and he was alone in the kitchen texting while everyone else was in the living room talking and eating some cured ham with toast which I had to bring to him where he was sitting (my sisters and mom talking about the Met Gala, my dad playing with my little nephew). I told him to join us since at least my parents were there and I hoped it would ease the tension he felt. But he said "I gotta go now" so I said I would open the door for him but he said "I leave in 5 minutes". This disappointed me cause clearly he just didn't want to make the effort to be with us, even so after knowing his reasons. My family didn't notice or didn't call to him to join them. They didn't even notice he left without saying goodbye (he's still shy around them and I know he didn't want to interrupt...). Again, that's how they are, it's not intentional! His parents would never let me be alone in their kitchen while they are together in their living room and my bf knows this.
So... I don't know if to get mad at him again after tonight or for the whole situation, I don't know if to put terms or something. I don't know if to take both parties by surprise and maybe address this openly when we get together with my parents for dinner... Or keep it as is and not do anything and have this very uncomfortable and sad situation for the rest of our lives, trying not to make it a problem like he said since I've done everything I can but feel I should still push this... I'm torn apart between defending my family and my boyfriend :(
Thank you for reading this very long post, thank you in advance for your input and help!!!
TL;DR: my parents really like and enjoy being with my boyfriend but they have marriage problems and aren't as loving and warm as his extremely loving parents, my sisters ignore him thanks to my very bad relationship with them, he can't stand to be around them anymore after multiple attempts of interacting with them but having no reciprocity and is done trying. He comes from a very loving and warm family who treat me like their own daughter, are very affectionate and cute (the complete opposite of what my family is and it's been a shock for both of us to deal with). This is affecting our relationship as it hurts and saddens me cause I can't do anything about it and I've tried, my family is as they are and that's it, he's had a hard time accepting that even though he "loves them as they are"

WARNING
This is a long read. TL;DR is that Drake is a creep with a clear pattern of behavior towards minors, and I brought receipts if you want to know more.
This thread is partly based on this thread from 2022
Let me just start off by saying that I'm a certified Drake hater. I've thought the guy was a creep ever since the Millie Bobby Brown video and I'll proudly say with my chest FUCK DRAKE - but I'll still try to remain as objective as possible here, you know my bias now though.
THE 17 YEAR OLD AT SHOW
Drake is performing at a show in Ogden, Denver where he calls a girl up on stage. I really encourage you to watch this yourself, but since I know the majority of you won't watch it, I've described it for you below.
Video starts with her on stage, he asks her name, where she is from, asks the crowd to welcome her to the stage and tells her she looks great. He then asks her to give him two seconds because "I gotta be ready for you". He wipes off his sweat with a towel and proceeds to take her hand, put it on his shoulder, his hand on her hip/back and they slowdance for a few seconds. He spins her around and stop her with her back facing him. This is when it starts to get.. really weird.
Drake says "I told you I like your hair, right, what is it, like herbal essence or something?" while he's caressing her shoulder and smelling her hair. He says something I can't hear properly, puts the mic down and exposes her upper back and neck by pulling her shirt collar down. The crowd goes wild. He then starts kissing her shoulder and neck, putting her arms around her and fondle her breast. The girl on stage looks.. uncomfortable. A few seconds later he picks up the mic again and says "you can't have me carried away again before I get in trouble - how old are you?" She responds "17". The crowd has a mixed reaction - Drake says something that is hard to make out, because of the crowd but when it's clear he says "I can't go to jail yet, man - 17? Why do you look like that? You thick - look at all this!"
It's hard to make out exactly what he says afterwards because of the poor quality (2011 zoomed video at a concert, it's bad..), but he says something about it bringing them (the 17 year old and Drake) to a close and follows it up with "I got one question for you (...) I just want to know if (something about women in Colorado), I should just take one opportunity to take one home?" The girl nods "As a Colorado woman you'd enjoy that?" "Well, listen 17, I had fun - I don't know if I should feel guilty or not, but I had fun. I liked the way your breasts felt against my chest. I just want to thank you." He then puts the mic down again, grabs her hand and kisses it. You might think that was a little over the top, but he then immediately follows it up by putting his hand on her chin and kissing both of her cheeks, her forehead and then on HER FUCKING LIPS. I think he asks her to walk off stage, it's hard to make out, but then he says "It's okay. I'm only 23, I can do shit like that. It's all good, you know what I'm saying" and the video ends.
Addition: I know this girl has said she was not offended, violated, whatever you want to call it, but that's not the point. And I do not mean to sound like a complete dick, but it's not about her - it's about Drake and proving his pattern of behavior over many instances. If you stopped here because she denied it, you completely missed the point.
MILLIE BOBBY BROWN
Now this video was what really made me do a double take on Drake. Now, there's one very important fact to establish here and that is that Millie Bobby Brown at the time of this interview (18. September 2018) is 14 (Born 19. February 2004). I'll quickly transcribe the interview here:
Interviewer: What about your relationship with Drake, tell me about your friendship, how did this all come about?
Millie Bobby Brown: I love him. I met him in Australia and he's honestly so fantastic and a great friend and a great role model. You know we text - we just texted each other the other day and he was like "I miss you so much" and I was like "I miss you more". He's coming to Atlanta, so I'm definitely gonna go and see him and I'm so excited.
Interviewer 2: You and Drake? That's awesome. That's awesome..
Interviewer: What advice does he give you? What does he say?
MMB: About boys he helps me, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah he's great. He's wonderful, I love him.
Interviewer: What's his advice with boys?
MMB: Ehm, you know.. That stays in the text messages.
I'm sure it's obvious what is wrong here and I don't need to spell it out for any of you, but I do have one thing to add. If Drake is giving advice about boys and telling her "I miss you so much" they must have talked for a while. It's not something you say after knowing a person for a week. We are talking months at least. There's 7 months between her birthday and the interview - did Drake already start talking to her when she was 13? It would make sense that Drake was in Australia during their summer (Dec-Feb) for festivals/concerts/vacation. It's probably possible to figure out through social media posts, but I'm not digging that deep.
Millie has only commented on this once which was a few days later in a story on Instagram: https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2018/09/210592/millie-bobby-brown-defends-friendship-with-drake
I don't want or mean to infantilize her, but she was 14. She would have no chance of knowing if Drake actually was grooming her. There's not a chance that she could understand the dynamic at play and why it's wrong at that age.
Drake also defended their friendship on the song Another Late Night when he raps:

Weirdos in my comments talkin' 'bout some Millie Bobby, look
Bring them jokes up to the gang, we get to really flockin'

Ironically enough that very same song is also connected to the next person
BILLIE EILISH
The year after the Millie Bobby Brown controversy Drake gets caught texting a minor again and this time it's Billie Eilish. She does a yearly interview with Vanity Fair, and in the 2019 version she's asked who's her most famous contact in her phone. That's when she reveals she's been texting with Drake and that he's so very nice to her. Billie is at the time of the interview (released 25. November 2019) 17 (born 18. December 2001).
Billie did defend Drake and their texting in an interview with Vogue ~3 months later:

“The internet is such a stupid-ass mess right now,” says Eilish, who quit Twitter in 2018. “Everybody’s so sensitive. A grown man can’t be a fan of an artist? There are so many people that the internet should be more worried about. Like, you’re really going to say that Drake is creepy because he’s a fan of mine, and then you’re going to go vote for Trump? What the fuck is that shit?”

On the song Another Late Night where Drake mentions Millie Bobby Brown, Lil Yachty is featured (one of Drake's gho.. co-writers) and he raps the line:

I let her go, she fine as hell but baby wasn't stylish (Yeah)
She had big tits like Billie Eilish but she couldn't sing (Drip)

Now - I know this is not Drake, I just thought it was a 'funny' coincidence that these two women are connected through their shared experiences with Drake and this song. On another note some might say that Drake should have asked Yachty to omit this line if he really was a friend of Billie Eilish since she has been quite vocal about sexualization of herself and women in general.
BELLA HARRIS
This one is pretty fucking bad in my opinion. Bella Harris is the daughter of Jimmy Jam who's a record producer, songwriter etc. and has been very successful. Through him she's been in and around the entertainment/music business her whole life and met Drake that way.
There's an archive of photos posted here that contains the old IG posts she had with Drake. The first one was on May 5th, 2016 - Bella Harris is born 20. April, 2000. She had just turned 16 at the time. Objectively I think they are defendable since they are all music related - Rihanna concert, Summer Sixteen Tour (ironic name..) and the American Music Awards, but then two years later they reportedly start dating and that makes it really difficult to believe, especially with the last archived photo of them in 2018. Also the same photo that is referenced in this article talking about Drake renting an entire restaurant for an intimate dinner between them. Note that E! have confirmed it and are not backing down on their claim despite Harris denying it on Instagram.
KYLIE JENNER
Ever since the Kanye (also fuck Kanye for the record) vs. Drake beef we (or I at least) became aware of the fact that Drake has had a long relationship with the Kardashians/Jenners and known them for many, many years. In fact Drake performed at Kylie's sweet 16 back in 2013. You know what that Sweet 16 was specifically remembered for as well? Drake kissing Kylie on the cheek in front of everyone, including her then boyfriend Jaden Smith.
That's not out of the ordinary and would be very normal, if it wasn't for the clear pattern that is going on here, because guess what - 6 years later Drake and Kylie reportedly start dating, well.. dating/fucking/whatever you wanna call it. Admittedly this article is easily dismissed as paparazzi journalism and clickbait, but what if I told you that Drake has rapped this:

Yeah, I’m a hater to society/Real shit, Kylie Jenner that’s a side piece/Yeah, I got 20 muthafuckas in’ Kylies.

You probably wouldn't have heard it, since it was on an unreleased track played on an Instagram Live back in 2020, but it does make it seem pretty likely that he did actually hook up with her, especially considering the response Drake posted

“A song that mark ran last night on night owl sound live set shouldn’t have been played,” he wrote, “It’s a song that leaked 3 years ago and got scrapped shortly after. He was just going too deep in the drake/future catalogue. Last thing I’d want to do is wake up having any friends of mine feeling disrespected so I just had to say that to start off the day.”

Kylie was 22 at the time they reportedly hooked up.
HAILEY BALDWIN (NOW BIEBER)
In 2016 there were reports that Hailey and Drake were dating. Apparently they hooked up at a party that Drake hosted, where another attendee is also mentioned that seems oddly relevant:

Drake and Hailey weren't the only ones getting close, with Kylie Jenner and rumoured new boyfriend PartyNextDoor were seen "making out" at the party.
"It was almost like she was trying to make a statement," an insider added.

Now again - there's nothing illegal in a 11 year age difference and dating a 19-year old as 30. It's weird, yes. But again we come back to the pattern. Why do Drake know Hailey? Through their similar friends and friend group (Kardashians/Jenners). How long has Drake known Hailey? Well, when Hailey was 19, she said they had known each other for a long time.
We can actually get even closer with certainty since we know that Hailey attended Kylie's Sweet 16 in August, 2013. Hailey is born 22. November 1996, so she was also 16 at the time. So it's another girl that Drake has known since she was a minor and started dating when he got the opportunity. This is not normal.
Another pattern that Drake also seem to follow is that likes to hook up with his friends girl. We know for a fact that he hooked up with Lil Wayne's girlfriend while he was in prison. He not only rap about it, but also admit it in an interview. It's not really hard to believe that he did the same with Bieber.
CYDNEY CHRISTINE (LIL CC)
Cydney Christine is a beatmaker and model - she produced the Drake song Money In The Grave and in a Complex interview/roundtable she talks about it and Drake.

Really the only artist I reached out to is Drake. I'd never met him, never spoke to him, I don't know why, but he has been following me for the past like 6 years. I don't know why..

This interview was uploaded 17. December 2019, Cydney Christine's is born 21. July, 1997, meaning she was 22 at the time of the interview and 15-16 when Drake started following her. This is somewhat innocent but strange since Drake is 27 at the time. That's not what is really weird though.
In March 2023, Lil CC is on the No Jumper podcast and here she speaks about Drake and having her debut beat being a Drake single.
Lil CC: I played basketball, right, so he really was a fan or not a fan, sorry, supported one of my teammates at the time um..
Adam 22: And this is when you are in high school?
Lil CC: Yeah, in high school. So he was a fan of women's basketball - high school basketball - I was her teammate so he followed me because of her, and I was like "oh shit, bitch, you got Drake to follow me, like what the hell? Like that's so crazy". So he followed me and I lost it - I have to meet Drake, I love Drake, I've always loved Drake, still love Drake.
There's more to the conversation, but the relevant part is here is that it's just very, very strange for Drake to be a women's high school basketball fan. They are 16 at the time. He's a supporter of a 16 year old female high school basketball player as a 27 year old grown adult man. He has not hooked up with her, dated or anything of the sorts that we know of or that she has told - for the record.
AALIYAH
It's not like I have whole section for this, but his obsession with Aaliyah is strange considering everything else. I don't have a lot to contribute here, but if you don't know Aaliyah's story I'd recommend reading her Wikipedia and specifically the section about her personal life. If you think that 'obsession' is too strong a word for how much Drake admires her, I think you should take a look at this Complex article from 2018 and reconsider.
UNCONFIRMED STORIES
(I imagine this section will expand soon and I will continuously update it whenever I find or get sent new information to add here.)

• Back in 2021 Drake was being exposed on TikTok for his 'private Tinder' where one of his guys would go out and the hottest girls in town, interview them and find the one that Drake would like the best.

“He finds the girls and then he interviews them, and out of all the girls he interviews, he picks the one that he thinks is the best,” she continued. “Then, he drives her to Drake’s place, Drake has sex with her, and then he drives her home. So, basically, Drake has his own private Tinder.”

• This girl explaining how her friend was invited by Drake's crew and she was brought along as a +1. No ID check, very young girls. Worth a watch: https://www.tiktok.com/@simonestrauss/video/7365696116085591304
  
• This reddit post - yes I know this is 'so easy to just say', but I think the poster was very right by pointing this out:
  

I'm sure you guys won't believe me, but this is the type of situation where someone vanishing and telling you is the best you'll get.

• This YouTube comment about a girl claiming to be a victim of trafficking in Toronto in 2015 and that Drake had ties in all these circles.
  
• [This video of a girl being interviewed on a podcast](https://www.reddit.com/KendrickLamacomments/1clusye/drakes_a_scout_but_hes_not_doing_it_for_basketball/). She talks about Drake starting to follow her, because he was a "supporter" of one of her friends on the team. This team is women's high school basketball. Watch it. Whole section about Lil CC/Cydney Chrstine now.
  

LYRICS, REFERENCES, TWEETS, PICTURES
(Another section that I imagine will have a lot of additional stuff being added, feel free to share with me and I'll add it.)

• On the song Nice For What Drake raps:

You got a baby Benz, you got some bad friends
High school pics, you was even bad then

• This Tweet

"If amazing was a young bitch I'd be going to jail...cause I'm fucking amazing" - Me

• This image of Drake and Malone from Drake's Instagram that's been deleted now. Malone is infamous for impregnating a 13 year old when he was 20.
  
• On the song The Heart Part 6 Drake raps:
  

Just for clarity, I feel disgusted, I'm too respected
If I was fucking young girls, I promise I'd have been arrested
I'm way too famous for this shit you just suggested

• Also on the song The Heart Part 6 Drake raps:

Only fuckin' with Whitneys, not Millie Bobby Browns, I'd never look twice at no teenager

(DIS)HONORABLE MENTION
I know people say Jorja Smith, and I do agree that dating a 19-year old as a 30-year old man is weird and rather pathetic, but every other girl mentioned is related to minors. Their relationship if you can call it that was for sure toxic, and it seems like Drake was a piece of shit abusing the power dynamic between them. This is taken from the Drizzy subreddit, but I can't provide the source since that gets the post blacklisted as it's temporarily banned because of brigading.

In “Summer Games” Drake also says ”I kept it decent, even the secrets, kept it between you and I”. What secrets exactly? Well in Jaded, Drake says this woman “told him all her insecurities”.
It’s also interesting that the song “Summer Games” is about a woman who broke up with Drake right at the beginning of the summer. Drake and Jorja were dating in April of 2017 which is right before the summer starts and only lasted a couple weeks.

But that's all there is to it. I can't dig up anything else, so unless someone have something credible with sources, I don't think there's good enough reason to add her to the list further up.
FINAL NOTE
If you have anything to add, please post it in the comments and if credible/sourced I'll put it in the post. If I got anything wrong please correct me and I'll edit it. I could not be bothered to add more stuff to the last 2 sections, because this has taken considerable time to get done, so I was hoping to crowdsource a lot of that through you guys.
Please share this anywhere you want. I don't care about credit. If any media outlets wants to use it for their article or whatever, please do - feel free. You do not need to ask permission.

It had been six years since I last saw Joseph. He left with a knapsack and a dusty set of shoes, some torn trousers and a wry smile. I remember saying to him, “so long, old fellow.” “Until we meet again,” he had said back. Well, today, I saw him coming down the mountain. I don’t know how he got up there; the last time I saw him walking away, he was headed in the opposite direction. But I cast aside that puzzlement and with joy, went on to meet him. 

And so we went on, down by the apple orchard around Brooke’s Lane, the dirt road down past the bend, and we plucked a few red ones and sat in the grass, ate and talked. He had gone up, past the Elven land where the brightness of the dawn was so clear that the morning shone as if a diamond lay in the heavens. And he had gone past that land, beyond to the realm of Goldor-Nu’um, where he had met a princess of sorts. One with a penchant for bestowing wishes, or so he said, with a wry smile. He had met her in a similar orchard as the very one we were I, he said, only that one was filled with magical spiders. The kind that wove nets around the fruit to shade them from the sun. And that fruit was so poisonous that it could kill you immediately if you ate it. She was there because her betrothed was sick after having eaten some of that fruit, and she was in the process of healing him. But she was missing an ingredient, so she sent for Joseph to head down South for a branch of a particular sort, whose joints were supposed to have a sort of resin in them that would be a cure for her betrothed. So he went. Halfway there he encountered a lion, who stood in his path and asked him a riddle. The lion asked, “how many days lie between the first day and the last, if a man knows who he is?” And Joseph answered: one. The entire life is one day, and all things that happen between that day and this last one are transmutations of the emotional principle invested in his experience of birth.” And the lion turned into a giant butterfly and wavered up and over the breeze, to some far off canyon. Then Joseph had to cross a river, but there was no causeway. So he simply waded into the current and got deeper and deeper into the water, until his neck and head were the only things protruding. But as he lost his footing, there in the middle of the river, an Eagle swooped down and lifted him out of the water with its talons, and deposited him safely on the other shore. “Why did you save me?” asked Joseph. Because you would have done the same, said Torah, the Eagle. “That is true,” replied Joseph. And he pulled himself to his feet and looked around him. To his surprise, he was before the branch that had the necessary sap. So he plucked it from the bough, but the tree objected. Immediately, roots sprung up from the ground, and ensured his feet. “Why do you take of my serum?” inquired the Bansai tree. “Because the princess in the far grove needs it to heal her betrothed, and I have traveled far to get it.” “Who are you to her?” the tree inquired further. “Nobody, just a chance acquaintance.” “Interesting. So you would not have known her had you not endeavored on your quest?” “That is correct.” “Then go, take of my branch and my sap, and let this remind you of what a good deed does, in time.” So Joseph took the branch, and immediately the sap stuck to his skin and he fell into a deep sleep, and forgot everything about his quest. When he awake, it was midnight, and the Night sky and all that glimmered there shone down upon him. And he knew not where he was, nor where he was going. Not how he had gotten there, nor what his purpose was. And he let his mind wander through the Nighttime, until the Eastern sky began to grey. When the morning zephyrs began to stir, he felt the branch beneath his back, for he was lying on the ground. And he gradually remembered his quest. He was struck with the immediacy of the need to get back, and he began to shuffle through that glade, on toward the sun. And to his surprise, the sun had risen at the exact moment he broke free of that glade, and turned back onto a dirt path. And there, shortly down the road, was the orchard with the princess and the poisonous spiders, and there was the Eagle and the Lion. And there on the ground, was the betrothed. His breaths rose and fell with quiet strength, but the princess turned from him and with exhasperated delight plucked the branch from Joseph’s hands. And she snapped it open in two and dabbed the sap onto the closed eyelids of the man who lay at her feet, and he woke. With each piece of twig on either side of him, he rolled onto his side and coughed up a fish. The fish, surprisingly, was alive itself, but upon touching the ground it immediately turned into water and sunk into the ground, where a lily grew. The man plucked the lily and handed it to the Princess, who turned to Joseph and put it in his hand. Joseph looked down at the lily and smiled, but knew not why. With a deep breath of his own, he put it into his lapel, and one of the petals fell off. Then the princess said, “because you have been brave, your reward is that every petal that falls from the head of that lily will grant you one wish. You may wish now for the petal that has fallen.” And Joseph, with surprise, looked up at the daytime moon, there in the pale evening sky and said in a thoughtful murmur, “I wish that I had been here earlier, so that I could have helped sooner.” And immediately he found himself at the edge of the orchard, with the Princess in sight, and remembered everything. Not knowing precisely what had happened, he nonetheless walked toward the Princess and completed the same conversation. Left on his quest, and each time, more expediently completed his task. From the orchard, to the Lion, to the river and the Eagle, to the Tree, he repeated his actions. The only difference being that the betrothed grew younger each time, and Joseph grew older. He had found a purpose in saving the betrothed for the Princess, but he never knew who they were, until one day, if it can be called such, he met the Princess and instead of wishing for the opportunity to save her betrothed sooner, he asked to know who the Princess was. And she said, “I am your daughter.” “Not your actual daughter but the one you have created. I am the center of all that you know, and all that you do, and all that you have wrought in and of yourself. By saving my marriage, you have secured your future. But you had to learn this fact by doing these things.” “My betrothed is my future, and this man is you, who you saved by saving me.” “Now you have your life. The first part of it was realizing why you are here. You have done that in knowing me. The second part is doing what you can do, secure in the knowledge that you are the cause of your own life. All things begin and end with you, which you knew when you answered the Lion’s riddle. But you had to experience it, beyond knowing it. All things are their own consummation. Now go, and know yourself in your doings for the rest of your days.” So then Joseph left the Princess and her betrothed, the fish which was coughed up being the almost-death Joseph had suffered in the river had he not been saved by the Eagle. The Eagle was the embodiment of the self-saving principle that reciprocated his deliverance of the betrothed. And Joseph walked down the mountain, where he found himself, and saw me there, sitting by the stream, casting nuts and stones into the water. He saw me and he knew six years had gone by, judging by his worn palms and the days that had passed. In his knapsack was a bushel of tried lilies, and in his eyes was the gleam of wisdom. 

And there in the fire which swallowed the lily petals a wreath of blue flame began to grow, and all the other fire was drawn to it and quenched within its circle. Until the house was gone, and the fire was gone, and all that was left there on the ground was the Princess, only I didn’t recognize her. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and as I approached her I felt the grass and the ash crinkle beneath my feet. She was wearing a sooty, blue dress, and a petticoat of white lace. And her honey-colored hair was spread out before her. And as I stooped to get a better look at her face, she turned, and a fish came out of her mouth. She gasped for breath and sat upright, and she looked at me, and she cried out to me, “Jonah!” And I said, “Yes?” And she said, “Darling, I’ve been waiting all my life for you. Here in this house, and in a far glade, where death came upon you. You have been waiting just as long to see me. I know, I knew Joseph.” And I said, “Joseph, but of course! You’re the Princess he met!” “Yes, he rescued my beloved, and you are him!” “But how could that be? Your beloved was with you in glade. He ate the spider apples, and regained his life when Joseph brought the broken branch to you.” And she said, “”Yes, and you are that broken branch! This, is the broken branch. He was, too, the broken branch, and the sap was all this effort. The transmutation of the entire process. He gave his life for you, so that you could find me, and now your fates are exchanged. A perfect ransom, youth for old age, a single redemptive act of courage, spread across a life time. And for me.” And Jonah shifted uncomfortably. “Why you?” “Because I am yours. The perfect complement to your life’s work. I am between you and Joseph, and between that orchard where you shared your story and the one far away where he met me. He is that part of you that longs, and you are that part of him that sent him. You are both this man that you are, where before you lay on the ground having eaten the fruit of ignorance, kept in the dark by the web of spiders. It was through seeking me out, here in this house, and far beyond, where he traveled, that I waited for you to come to life. And now we have traded places as well. You saw the fish that came out of my mouth; that, too was you. 

Long post ahead , I promise you this might sound made-up but I swear to you it's not. Several lessons ahead, some might be triggering
Check grammar and organize sentences
If this story sounds familiar to you, maybe, you're a friend, do not mention my name or message me about this post.
Long post ahead,
I'm a full time-working single mom. Just left an abusive relationship where the father of my child strangulated me in the neck, slapped me on my face, punched me. He took my phone so that I won't be able to contact anyone for help. He was threatening to end everything, our lives with that knife pointing at me. I had to ran away for my life, ran to the highway crying. Wishing an accident would happen.
Prior to this, the abuse started with calling me names. Then throwing some things, coins, towel, and so on
Sometimes, I think is this all my fault? I was a CS mom but still had to do all of the task, he said just tell him or ask hum he will do it, i always say, that shouldn't always be the case, you're a father now and should have some initiative.
And when I do ask him to do things, he'll take it badly, there's always a reason not for him to do it but when it comes to the gym, with his friends, or mobile legends, he's not tired.
8 months I wasn't able to go out because no one's gonna take care of everything at home, and that moment I said, I'll go out and treat myself to a salon, but it turned out bad that I got out for 8 hours, didn't know it would take that long but it was a saturday, and it was my first time to go out in 8 months.
When I got home, the door was open all the things were messed up, I didn't know what to do , the baby was gone, he wasn't replying, asked helped with my mom and he told my mom that he went to a relative
Fast forward, he said sorry but I was mad, and told him things that he's not ready to hear so he ended up threatening me again, that I had to call for help, my dad and best friend called the police. They came but we fixed it and talked about it and forgave him.
Is it my fault he never bought anything for the child, clothes, shoes, toys. But when it comes to gym memberships, work outings, gadgets-steam deck, switch he has money for it.
He always say that he has no enough money and doesn't have enough salary to save. I asked him to go out eat in a kbqq grill, he said he doesn't have any money for it, but we can go he'll just watch and eat sardines at home, t is okay, for me so I always cover , I don't mind spending more if I earn more as long as you do your part, but the fact he has money, that he was able to save money for himself only. I got mad. Didn't tell him. I fall out of love, endured everything in fear that he'll hurt me again, or himself. I got numb, everything even small one will make me mad, there are times that my anger to my ex was transferred to my child, 😭 i shouted at him and all, but it came to a point, no, this child has to have a happy and trauma free childhood , I don't eant him to see abuse as a normal thing, i want him to do the things he really love and not just out of survival, i wanr him to grow with love, So i have to make a decision, to move out leave him, i know it will be hard but I had to, I'll carry all the burden if I have just make my child happy, that one day he'll say, i love you and so proud of you mom. That he's thankful to have me as his mom.
But he wasn't happy when knew about it, he threatened me if I wasn't gonna move out with him , he'll give me life long trauma, was able to take a video of that.
I was crying, and he asked forgiveness right away, and said we'll just talk about coparenting, then asked if we could do it again for the last time (s*x) be cause he said, he was turned on, by me, crying????? And I knew that moment, i have to leave him
I asked my father for help, since he's living alone and gets lonely, (He and my mom are separated, he did to my mom what I'm experiencing now, plus cheating, plus drugs, plus stealing money from my mom, abuse to me and my brother, to the point he'll tell his friend that my brother died so he can ask for "abuloy" for his vices. I forgave him several times, I'm the only one who talks to him, Fast forward, i asked him to live with me, just watch over my child, I'll give him a business and a car to drive (grab) he's a taxi driver btw, we agreed but he said he's not able to leave his taxi company because of unpaid boundaries, and the police will get him that day if unpaid, i had doubts but i believed that he changed, but i was wrong, when he visited me, and was playing with my kid , i saw several text messages from different loan apps, I said, why he's borrwing money , hed doesn't even have work right now, checked his gcash and boom saw the amount I have sent to his so called boss, minus few hundred which I know he paid the so called boss. I cried and asked him to leave, he saw me at my worst, what my ex was doing to me and he was able to do that now
I searched for an apartment signed a contract, paid 1 adv 2 months deposit but later that day, cancelled because they knew about the location and i didnt know what to do, I asked if I could get a refund, i know I can't since I have signed a contract but at least the deposit or 3 months advance internet I have paid , they said to me to reach out with the admin that itried for weeks and told me they have been sending me thr document for request but didn't receive any. I gave up, used up all of my savings to move to a new place, was really happy with my kid's development, since we moved, i thought my problems will be over but boy i was wrong
I have 4 clients at that time, in different niches, this client a german lady, hired me to do website design (wix), seo, recruitment, social media management, content creation. At the same time, i have no problems with it, but there are weeks I only had to do 4 hours per day for her, I have extended unpaid hours minimum of 4 hours, designing the website alone is a lot of work, and the way she talks, and reaches out to me, is very disrespectful, the first few months, I asked advice from my manager since I don't want to judge it based on my perception only so i let it go, but overtime she was very disrespectful thateven on weekends she'll send me a lot then tell me to enjoy weekend don't work on this, then every bad thing will happen to her end she'll videocall me right away and ask what did i do? Even on her own computer she'll blame everything to me. I don't use my breaks with her as she will call anytime without prior notice, as a single mom, I didn't have time to cheat on work, like sleeping and such, i have work ethic, thats why my response rate is from asap to max 2 minutes, So I have decided to leave with a respectful resignation letter asap even offered 4 weeks services for free for the things she werent satisfied, offered help with the transition, and will deliver pending tasks. But boy, she said to my manager that I was not doing anything, and didn't have any outputs, so I wasn't paid for my last week with her almost 40k/month , gone, in my salary. I was crying , i even gave more hours than I should, i gave my heart to that website and outputs which I have proof of and the time doctor we use to have records of productivity. I didn't argue, for my peace of mind, I said, i forgive her, maybe she's going through something, even prayed for her, while crying because of what happened
Same time , another clients hired me for 4 hours just to repost products from one marketplace to different ones. He was cery polite and kind. The problem was he's not responsive, we only meet once a week at this particular time, since no one knows he's hired an assistant but him, it took him days to reply , but i am proactive and told him that I had challenges with the limitations of the access he gave me and the file, the software can't read it , so i did a lot of recreating the document and retyping information, and since ge wanted to repost some of the products only i had to recreate the file , told him in our email that I could focus on other task ehile waiting to document to work so that the hours are productive, even offered to cover the hours lost so that his money won't just go to waste, i always reached out to him, said to him in an email, Hello please let me know when you are free to recalibrate tasks, also I'm available in this hours 9pm -6am est
Since I was only hired for 4 hours , he asked am I gonna be billed for this, replied him "oh no sorry, you're not gonna be billed during these hours, just letting you know I'm available and could reach in these hours"
He said okay, then no response after that.
My mistake was , I wasn't able to share with my manager that he was unresponsive, focusing on the other client, fsst forward this client didn't want to pay because I havent done anything, which is why I was offering to eork on ther things while waiting for the document (copy from that marketplace) and told him I have worked for it and created some contents so that time will not be wasted but boy, this client told the company that I emailed him that he will not be billed for everything. Showed the company proof, email threads and such, but since the client threaten to report them , even with proof, my cut for that client wasn't paid (almost 20k) and currently paying the remaining till next cut for the salary he paid since. I didn't argue, even if I was called a thief for not telling the company I received salary, which I was expecting since I did work for that guy, the process is also a work , but i told them okay, i know is is evil's work and God has the best things waiting for me, my csm told me what does this two clients have in common, she said me, thats thecproblem is in me, i told her I have work ethic I'm a single mom and has no one to rely on, but gave up , now, remaining client, gave me 3 warnings, becuase ofcthe baby noise background, but was flexible when I did content for him and several other deliverables that made their marketing 100% also I am available anytime when he reaches out to me I respond, i extend 4 hours even when I was only hired for 4 hours, still disappointed at me, he removed one assistant as well who does the same unpaid OT, for the reason he got late because of the heavy rain in Davao and he searched Manila that it wasn't Raining there , without notice.
I tried offering services, online for a steal price, small business online wasn't
I have incoming bills in 5 days, 35k which Is just half or 3rd of my usual salary, can work on the 25k if the company won't cut my salary til next cut , but how and where I can get that, i dont want to loan , i dont want to borrow from anyone,
Prior to all of this and marriage i was independent, i don't want to be a burden to anyone, i was ready to recover, as my savings are all gone, I don't have money with me, my son got sick, his father barely gives anything, 1-2k is already big,
I know I can recover from this, if I'll be able to pay my incoming bills knowing that I have several skills and I am a hardworker,
The only consistent thing that I do is to workout, to keep me sane, but even that I get to skip 2-3 days, I know I can borrow from shopee or similar apos but i don't have valid ids right now which I have been trying to retrieve , ph sucks. Original bill was 18k+3500 but since I owe them 9k almost 35k in all , ehich I can get get from 1 client alone. I'm hope right now, where can I get that money, in 5 days???! My clock is ticking, never slept well, having hallucinations, had to work eith baby's tantrum, I never thought ending my life is an optin since pandemic,
Why God, why me, all I did was to praise you, give people help when I can, share good things with people, I know you have plans with me, i was mentally stable enough to go on but this is the peak, im on a verge, i lvoe my son, i dont know what to do, whatever happens, i hope everyone will understand, I'm just tired, i know I wasn't a good daughter before but you changed me, you made me knew, but why me, why now, why
Please support me by hiring me for my services: Please please: I don't want to give 5 days is still 5 days, If you pay me full in advance, I'll do another service for free, If you'll be able to help me with my bills, I can give several other services for free
Why help me?

• I work with good people, with grrat minds and vision as I am. I don't want these to go to waste, I want to be a part of that less than one percent who changes things, who makes impact, I've been in several rock bottoms, I know breakthrough is wsitting for me.
  I always give back whenever
  
• I work with my heart
  
• I always make sure to give you satisfaction
  
• I adjust based on your preferences
  

I am in several ventures that are just starting that I know will be big in the future.

1. Streetwear brand (Some of our shirts have been worn by local artists like Daniel Padilla, Joe Black, and many more.
2. AI software that will change every company's customer service game. How do you feel about a software that learns everything on your website in just few minutes and can provide all of those information via chat, 24/7? Company owners message me if you like. We offer 1 month trial, no strings attached you can discontinue if you like. For those who like to do digital marketing, you can message me too.
3. I have a 5star online carousell business account, selling items for low, check that out. Most are unused, brand new, or once used.
4. (This is a plan together with a couple friend and his brother) an agency which will be pro employees, pro Filipinos, We all went from rock bottom, have experienced how most local and foreign employers treat us as slaves for working with them, as is we owe their lives to them. We Filipino are not hospitable, we are people pleasers, suck it or not, we don't set boundaries as often as we should. They think that we need them more than they need us. Not setting boundaries feed their egos. It's them who needs our services. Employees make the company grows, and if you want your employee to focus on his timesheet rather than the quality of his work, then you should think twice.

First priority are services I can focused at home, unless you'll also pay for child care
Services: Graphic Design, content creation, video editing, resume creation, presentations, flyers, recruitment, etc
Will send resume and portfolio.

• Can do events that needs heavy lifting or assistance from a fit person.
• Can do fitness coaching/classes (was full time before but now, we can talk about the setup) I would like to work eith moms who are struggling being fit again, I ca n help you physically, emotionally, mentally, etc

Has been featured in several blogs before: been interviewed by Erwann Heussaff
If you just want to send help, or offer a loan, message me too, or hire me to like lead a charity event or such please message me
If you're a scammer, don't try, I did legal as well, I can trace you.
Please, if you're not interested in inquiring about my services, message just to know how I look like or what's my name, please, don't.
PLEASE HIRE ME , I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO,
Alam kong imposible na ang pangarapckong maging muse ng ginebra, or housemate ni kuya, or dancer sa ASAP,
Bigay niyo na to, sa mga susugal, sakin muna kayo sumugal huhu, I know I'm someone who can make a big difference in the future, I don't want to be an employee forever, I want to be someone who'll change the game, not just with the business but with everyone whomever I'm gonna work with.
I know God sent someone, hopefully that someone is here.
All things I do, In his name.

The Kendrick/Drake rivalry, soft power and the fall of empires
My current hyperfixation is obviously the beef between Kendrick Lamar and Drake, which has taken to enormous proportions this last week (or days) in the culture, American yes, but not only that. This effort post, it is my attempt to link thoughts that I’ve had while following it, and especially arguments that I have read or heard coming from several people doing their own analyses.

Timeline

Well before the explosion of recent weeks between the two artists, they had collaborated in 2011 and 2012 on several tracks, and Drake, by then already a superstar, had even included Kendrick as the opening act on his tour Club Paradise. From 2013 onwards, however, their relationship tarnished when Kendrick took on several names in the industry with “Control”, including Drake. The majority took it pretty well. Not Drake. Over the several following years, the two have sent sneak disses at each other. Kendrick saw everything that is wrong with the rap industry personified in Drake, the man disgusted him, the very fact that he could exist and thrive made him retch. Drake, with his pop-infused hip hop, always ready to do features with trending artists to surf on the different fashions of the day in the genre, saw his ego swell alongside his success. And he couldn't stand being attacked, he has had beefs with too many people to count. Let's jump to March 2024, where Kendrick responded to J. Cole including him in the "Big Three", Drake, J. Cole, and himself with this line: "Motherfuck the big three, n**a, it’s just big me.” In April 2024, Drake released “Push Ups”, relatively unimportant in this affair, then “Taylor Made Freestyle”. That’s where shit exploded. Drake had used an AI on this track to copy 2Pac's voice, one of the giants of hip-hop. The Tupac Estate threatened him with a lawsuit, forcing him to delist the song. On April 30, Kendrick released “Euphoria” (Drake served as executive producer on both seasons of the series of the same name), a six-minute diss showing the extent of his contempt for Drake, threatening him throughout with retaliation if he didn't stay well above the belt (i.e. keep the family out of it—a social contract softened when Pusha T revealed the existence of Drake's son in “The Story of Adidon” in 2018). May 3, less than 72 hours after *Euphoria, Kendrick released “6:16 in LA”, where he implied that he had a mole in Drake’s entourage feeding him information. The same day, 15 hours after 6:16 in LA, Drake releases “Family Matters” with a music video, in which Drake appeared at the restaurant mentioned in Euphoria, and crushed a van of the same model that Kendrick had used in his early days and which appeared on the cover of his second studio album, “good kid, m.A.A.d city”. He talks about Whitney, Kendrick’s fiancée since 2015, accusing him of beating her, and of being an absent father.

meet the grahams, Not Like Us, BBL Drizzy & The Heart part 6

About fifteen minutes after Family Matters, Kendrick releases “meet the grahams”, a song with a horror movie beat, in epistolary form to each member of Drake's family, Drizzy himself included. Honestly, my mouth was hanging open from the first line “Dear Adonis [...]” (where he addresses Drake's son directly), I couldn't believe it. Imagine for a moment that a man who hates your guts interrupts your family stroll, kneels down in front of your six-year-old child, and says “Dear [Adonis], I'm sorry that this person is your parent” while looking straight into your eyes. The disrespect shook me. In Family Matters, Drake had gone where Kendrick had warned him not to go, his family. But Kendrick had anticipated that angle of attack, and dressed him down in meet the grahams a mere fifteen minutes after the last drop, accusing him of being addicted to gambling, to prostitutes, to drugs, of having a hidden and abandoned second child, of not really being part of Black culture, and even more damning, of being a pedophile, hiding other pedophiles in OVO, and being part of a child sex trafficking ring. I insist, this is not what is expected in your typical beef. Juicy details about cheating, addiction problems, sure, but above all good bars that get people excited and talking. Not allegations of that magnitude. Not a song that makes people widen their eyes and wonder where such visceral hatred comes from.
Less than 24 hours later, Kendrick drops again, with “Not Like Us”, this time a catchy club hit, with an energy the polar opposite of meet the grahams. The level of accusations remains the same, or worse. The difference is that this track had been made to play in clubs, and by its structure encouraged the crowds to harmonize on lines such as “Certified Lover Boy? Certified pedophiles”, or “Tryna strike a chord and it's probably A-Minor”. In my opinion, this is the moment when Drake lost the battle for the public’s heart. Everyone was stunned after meet the grahams, not really knowing what to do with this filthy beast, but it seems hard to come back when people are dancing and singing along to a track calling you a pedophile.
Of course, everyone was waiting and is still waiting for solid evidence on these allegations, from Drake sure, but more importantly from Kendrick. Nevertheless, it’s hard not to wonder the why of these damning accusations, and why at this precise moment (the trial of Sean Combs, aka P. Diddy, began in early April 2024 with very similar accusations).
On May 5, Drake released “The Heart part 6”. He responds to Kendrick's allegations, and ends the song without rapping, saying he’s disinterested with continuing this beef. In my opinion, and I think I speak for a lot of the people following the culture even a little bit, this ain’t it. The name of the song, the little sample at the beginning and the first line are the only solid parts of the track. Why say that he discussed and planned the leak about the alleged daughter with his entourage, only to five lines later say that the moles are clowns? Why not show the receipts with phone calls, or screenshots, when that would prove his stroke of genius? Why give Kendrick bullets when he accuses him of being a manipulator? And what’s with that unhinged read of “Mother I Sober”? To say Kendrick has an obsession with child-touchers because he was SAed as a child when he was talking about his mother, who suffered this horror in her childhood and couldn’t see past her trauma ? Going there is the mark of sick mind. Not to mention that even with that stupid read, plucking that string when Kdot accuses him of being a pedo with his full chest ? That’s damning. Or, while the P. Diddy trial is going on—after Weinstein, after Epstein and all these rich sex pests, defending himself from this accusation by saying that he’s too famous and respected? Is he out of his mind? Especially when for almost 15 years he’s been seen as a creep when it comes to girls way too young for him. And besides, why even name drop Epstein or Millie Bobby Brown on his own? The guy fuels the allegations against him when he tries to defend himself.
Not to mention that just before that, Metro Boomin dropped on his Twitter his “BBL Drizzy” beat with a challenge: the best bars win a beat from him, free of charge. Literal stroke of genius when Drake dissed him and told him to stick to doing drums. Malicious compliance at its finest. Thousands of up-and-comers from all over the world rushed into the breach. I was able to hear bars in Japanese, German, or French. To quote Drake, it's no longer 20 to 1, but thousands to 1, with a disstrumental where the diss is baked in. Just like Not Like Us, it doesn’t help him that the beat is an earworm.

Lol, who the fuck cares

Usually, I would say “more power to you” to those who don’t give a single fuck. But this hits different. Kendrick is not only attacking Drake but the entire culture industry (naming Weinstein in meet the grahams and using the word “industry” in every track starting from Euphoria). #MeToo was not very successful. Some wins, but overall, it wasn’t the revolution anyone hoped for. Way too much pushback from mainstream media. Attacking those giants is dangerous. For years, the hegemonic media has been abusing people who point at their attackers, the vast majority of them women accusing men. By asking about their dress, their perceived sexuality, the supposed kickbacks they’d get when blasting their abusers. We’ve seen this with Amber Heard, who, by physically defending herself from Johnny Depp the alcoholic, could not be the perfect victim, even though she fits all the other criteria: she’s white, she’s gorgeous, she’s talented. The list of people who were in Jeffrey Epstein’s Lolita Express has been published and…nothing. Or not much. On the other hand, right now, we have millions of people in all countries sharing tracks calling Drake and his entourage pedophiles, a global culture primed and ready for testimonies, even calling for them, if they exist. Imagine for a moment being someone who has had this kind of experience. Not the sordid details, but the anxiety, the fear of losing the small support network that you've been able to keep, the impossibility of filing a complaint when half the cop population are wife-beaters. Seeing Roman Polanski or Woody Allen parading around with a litany of allegations behind them. Contrast this with a moment when the culture dances while naming your abuser a pedophile, where it dissects his every word, finding filth in everything he says. Where thousands of artists put their best bars on a disstrumental ridiculing him. The court of public opinion is already on your side. It calls for you.

The important things

There is a genocide going on. Several, in fact. As I write, Rafah, the so-called “safe enclave” in which the Gazans have been forced to take refuge by the Israeli occupying army at the start of this phase of an ethnic cleansing that's been going on for more than 75 years, is threatened. Nearly a quarter of the clothing we wear goes through the hands of the enslaved Uyghur people in China. So why talk about a stupid beef between two very rich men? It demonstrates the power of soft power in the structure of global culture. It provides, in what I think a completely unexpected way, keys to possible solutions to all the struggles pitting the small against the powerful. Make no mistake, the soft power that we see with Kendrick and Metro Boomin clowning on Drake is not the one coming from the American empire, but the one from the African diaspora, from those that are still being enslaved in the American prison system, and resonates powerfully throughout the world. I absolutely do not recognize myself in American culture as it is introduced in propaganda blockbusters like Top Gun Maverick or other tools of the DOD to promote the illusion of the American empire. The messy and contradictory culture of hip hop, on the other hand, yes. Its homophobic delusions and toxic masculinity while it worships the ground that 2Pac touched. Tupac Shakur, a theatre kid who did ballet and presented himself dressed like a leather daddy at times. That culture I vibe with. Kendrick's demonstration of the power of cultural circulation at a time when we see the facade of the imperial core collapse, its criminalization of anti-war protests and climate justice activists, while we’re in the middle of public health disasters—no, covid is not over—, humanitarian crises, and climate chaos makes me weep with joy. It’s the only time I’ve laughed out loud and danced in the streets since the beginning of October last year. This is one of the rare moments where I understand with my guts Mariame Kaba when she says “hope is a discipline”. It’s been years since I’ve written this much. So let's diss our so-called elites. Let's dance while calling them murderers. Let's bang on pots every single time they open their mouths. Chuck some eggs their way. Let's stand in the way of cops trying to assault students occupying universities (funny, suddenly they're against territorial occupations, uh?). Let's create safe spaces for those who have the courage, the need, or the opportunity to go further.
I leave you with this incredible bop from Charlie Curlis-Beard using the application that the American government wants to ban: TikTok

I keep seeing people confuse the two. Epic online services is a feature within Unreal Engine games that helps devs set up cross play with other stores and other systems/consoles. Every cross play game will use something like this (if you're made aware of it that is).
Without EOS devs would have to create their own implementation for cross play, and since this is popular now it's built into the engine. I do think the name causes some confusion and should be called Unreal Online Services. Basically every Unreal Engine multiplayer game will use it going forward.

A little idea that I had, Evolved Godzilla in GxK was just way too fucking cool, and I feel he was kind of underutilized. Especially for the extra little additions he had in his design, and in this story I want to put him up against the main threats that Goji himself had previously fought in the Monsterverse, just with his evolved state instead.
Will this be fair? Absolutely not lol, but will it be fun to write? Hell yeah.
Ao3 link if you want to read it there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54956917/chapters/139311436
No one could have foreseen such a catastrophic event.

Ishiro Serizawa's heart pounded in his chest, threatening to burst entirely as sweat poured from his weary head. He couldn't sit straight upon the metal seat he had confined himself to, no one at Monarch could say otherwise too. The subtle rocking of the aircraft carrier certainly didn't help the pounding sensation in his head either, further adding to the stress placed upon the old doctor's mind. The sleepless nights ever since... it broke out had taken their toll upon the man, his brows furrowing as he clasped his hands together.

He had seen it for himself after all, to say Janjira was an absolute disaster would be the greatest understatement in the past century of human history. They thought they had everything under control, how could they not at this point? They had studied it for a decade without an end in sight, making sure that they could pull the plug on it. The kill field around the spore was capable of outputting enough electricity to power half a damn city...
And it shrugged it off like it was a jolt of carpet static.
In hindsight,he could do nothing but mentally curse himself over their own hubris. Monarch had become another example of mankind prancing its supposed control over the world, and the world was quick to put their arrogance into the ground. Nature came knocking, and its message was one that was echoed through the annals of human history.
Nature was a beast, a beast like no other. No amount of technology, science, religion or whatever else Mankind could conjure would ever be truly able to conquer and tame it. The creature that sprouted from the ancient spore exemplified such a thought like no other. Those deep crimson slits it had for eyes spoke of total and utter malevolence, like the world itself bored back into their souls... seeing red at them playing god.
"Sensei..."
He was broken out of his crushing thoughts upon the soft voice of one Doctor Graham, who was quick to sit beside the Japanese man when she had seen her mentor so deep and stuck in thought. The brit was always a comforting presence to him and to many other people at Monarch. Even if it did little to alleviate the old doctor's stress at the moment, it was something at the very least.
"Ah, Forgive me for my current state... there has been much on my mind."
A dry scoff emanated from the woman upon hearing his words, looking to the side of the doctor's head.
"There's been a lot on everyone's minds as of late."
Her shoulders sagged as she sighed, a finger of hers going up and rubbing one of her temples. The old doctor leaned back a little, looking up at his apprentice who looked no better than him in this state. The bags under her eyes said it all, she too was at the containment site when the creature emerged. They were lucky to have escaped relatively unscathed, the same could not be said for the Brody's.
"Has it been located?"
The old doctor's thick accented voice asked, rearing his head from his palm to look towards his apprentice. The expression on her face said it all, the shake of her head only cemented such a fact. The thought of that creature, being completely left unattended to and free to wreak havoc upon... anywhere for all god knew in the world was beyond horrifying to Serizawa.
"No... but I saw something in the audio readings..."
She paused, standing up and going towards one of the computer screens of the control room they were in. Tapping on the keyboard and bringing up something on the green tinted screen. The old doctor sat down in front of the computer, seeing that it was the audio patterns recorded through the minutes of hell when the creature broke free. He was unsure on what Graham wanted him to see, but she looked over from behind the screen and briefly gazed at him.
"Keep scrolling, before the EMP." She urged, as he complied to her request. Skimming through the readings, just seeing the spikes in audio through the graph made those chilling noises ring out in his ears again, but he kept going.
"This." She pointed and tapped on the screen, an all too familiar pattern to the both of them at this point. The call of the thing. But what really caught his attention was what sat right next to it.

A second call... a response.
Serizawa looked back to his apprentice at the realization of such a thing. It couldn't have been... could it? That second spore...
"A response." He muttered, his eyes wide as he considered the possibility of another MUTO having been awakened. But how? That second spore from the Philippine dig site that decade ago was wheeled off to storage probably far, far away from any source of radiation, unlike the spore in Janjira...At least to his knowledge. Writing this fact down onto his notes, he pondered such a scenario. As if things couldn't have possible gotten even more grim for not only Monarch but the world.
Vivienne went off to talk about with the other personnel present in the room, but quickly the attention of all those present was drawn to something else.
"We've received reports of a nuclear Akula 50, disappeared about 50 nautical miles from Hawaii." The voice of the officer was both heard by Admiral Stenz and the two Monarch scientists in earshot. Instantly that caught their attention, making Serizawa spring up from his seat and Vivienne to look over to face the Admiral. Stenz's gaze upon the two scientists still exhumed an underlying hint of contempt, one that the both scientists picked up on but disregarded for the time being. There were far better things to worry about at the moment anyways.

"A Russian sub's up and disappeared off the coast of Hawaii... could be the Muto." The admiral reiterated their own assumption that they thought of, and the screens behind the Admiral showed that they were about to get their answers soon enough...

---


The depths of the world were a place that human hands had not touched in many millennia. In times immemorial, when man walked alongside their gods... their titans, both lived in coexistence with each other. It was not one without conflict of course, but it was an existence of stability thanks to the efforts of beings were larger than life, to the eyes of men who were but ants to their splendor.
But as time flowed and the great wars began, when the aureate storm came and ravaged the lands, and when the crimson tyrant obsessed over total dominion upon nature...

One stood.

A king amongst the old gods of the world, the one that cheated death. The last one of a once great race, a guardian to all those who sided with his cause, that being the continued stability of nature. But to those that basked in anarchy, spreading it forth like a malignant cancer...
He was a monster.

And as the great wars raged on across the lands, the monster set forth upon innumerable battlefields. The auric wings of destruction found their match against the wrathful king, forging a rivalry etched into the very fabric of the world. The crimson tyrant learned to feel fear in his blackened soul, weeping in the shadow of the God-King.
In the end of it all, the king emerged victorious. But it was not a victory without bloodshed, not only of his enemies and himself but also of those he held dearest to him. The unwavering martyred in his name, The little ones caught in-between the battles of titans, his beloved queen...
Never again, he promised to himself. For all his might he couldn't save them. The queen would return, he knew that she wouldn't just fade away into nothingness like that. But that never erased the sorrow, the pain, the grief on his soul. He may have won the wars in placing the golden death in an icy prison and locking away the crimson tyrant deep below, but he was nearly destroyed in the process.
Defeat was never an option, and the wars had been the absolute closest the lord of the titans was to being gobbled up by the jaws of defeat. As of late the king of the monsters had decided that his form was not sufficient enough to cement his dominance over his enemies. Evolution was in order, to be a proverbial step ahead over what threats lied in wait, threats that he knew would come one day to jumpstart the cycle once more.
Evolve he did, the primordial minerals of the Hollow was something his kind always had been able to utilize, blessed with the ability to draw power from the crystalline materials. That was how they were blessed with their fire after all, but some sources yielded more interesting results. Said sources however were considered taboo to him and his lot, as there was really no telling what could possibly come out of consuming such things, the ones that did try usually succumbed to madness or explosive demises at the hands of volatile energies.
It was a gamble really, but one that ended up paying off. That fucshia-tinted nest of the serpent was quite the deposit of the volatile energy, one that she would never have let go without a fight. She was to be removed and besides, he already had a distaste for Tiamat anyway. Robbing him of the satisfaction of bringing down the rival that had cast him out from his territory long ago, and having the gall to side with the Golden One in the great war, and her being in the way of power that would make his job easier in the future was another thing to add onto the pile.

It was either her life or the world potentially being in jeopardy in the future.
A very easy decision that was to the leviathan.

Now transmogrified in the depths he remained, the crushing pressure of the entire ocean at this level made sure that very little life persevered here, let alone life that was intelligent enough to do anything to pose a threat to him. He rather enjoyed the relative silence, the only things being audible to him was the low churning of the rock all around him and the water rushing against his gargantuan form as he effortlessly glided through the water. Some peace and quiet was exactly what he sought, taking in those magenta crystals was quite the process he had to endure, but one that was worth the time to evolve.
The new form that he wore now was taking some getting used to, it felt like he had put on a completely new layer of skin to replace what once was. The lack of bulk in some areas was something he would have to rectify at a later occasion, but even then he hadn't felt so spry and filled with energy in a very, very long time. The more armored scales all over himself was something that he very much appreciated, the extra plates on his elbows and tail-tip were welcome additions of weaponry to use. Sustenance was in order if he wanted to regain his bulk and his home deep below would be able to quell the hunger he felt at the moment.

The peace ever since the last freeze proved to be a long one, but peace never was a permanent thing especially to him despite how much he would yearn and plead silently that it was. Despite the little ones unearthing him relatively recently, nothing seemed to come of it except for the strange incident at the remote atolls. Whether the little ones wanted to feed him or kill him was something that still eluded the leviathan but he definitely was displeased at seeing the damages that were incurred by the strange cylinder's detonation.
Continuing to trudge through the abyss and back to his home, the thought of him being overtly paranoid about all this crossed his mind. The innumerable sun cycles ever since the deep freeze started by the mother of ice marked a strange and silent point in his existence. At first it seemed too good to be true, but that first millennia going by without incident after the freeze started lulled him into a sense of security. Perhaps he was being overtly cynical about all this, evolving for threats that may never rear their ugly heads ever again. Had the Moth been around, perhaps the two of them could have finally gotten to "living a little." as the queen said to him.
A low grumble escaped the leviathan's throat, unheard to anyone in the depths as those bitter memories reemerged. How much he had wanted to have the "happy ending" that the goddess wanted not only for her, but for the both of them. A true sense of happiness was something that became a rarity to him long ago, when the wars first broke out at the auric death's arrival, it might as well have died alongside the queen in the last stretch of the conflict. He knew she would return, she would never be content to just fade way like that, even if it took millions upon millions of sun cycles for her to return, he would count down each and every day. In the meantime, he would ensure he did her and his own kind proud, continuing to tend to the lands as they always had done. But for now, home was calling.
When she did return, he would make sure that she would never fall to death's clutches ever again.

Come heaven or hell, he would make sure of it.


---

The air was tense upon the carrier, the two doctors watching the screens displaying the body cams of personnel on the ground. If a Nuclear submarine had gone up and missing near a relatively high-populated area like Hawaii would definitely be a cause for concern.

Especially considering there was a two hundred foot tall winged monster on the loose.

The nuclear submersible disappearing alongside the fact that the titan's main source of nourishment being radiation certainly painted a grim picture in their heads... that thing possibly being around, completely free to trample over the isles was a mortifying thought. The possibility of Monarch's secrecy to the public had now completely gone up in flames, but that was secondary to the potential millions that the existence of but one active titan could do. It was a nightmare born straight out of the darkest conceivable timeline to both Dr Graham and Serizawa, the top priority now in this dire situation would be to get a visual on the MUTO, and assess how to deal with it from there.
The men continued to march through the brush, being watched over by the two doctors from the screens, the night vision of the body cameras still doing little to give the clear picture to both of them. The disturbance that was picked up by the military at the very least was being taken completely seriously, both men on the ground and the air force had been called in for this, for a disturbance near Honolulu, combined with that sudden disappearance of that sub on top of the MUTO's escape probably had everyone on edge at the moment.

"We played god..." The old doctor thought to himself. How much he wished he could turn back time, destroy the damn spore the moment it had come to Janjira and nestled itself atop the irradiated wasteland. Nature was certainly giving him and everyone else at Monarch a hell of a lesson in not playing with flames they should never have even stoked in the first place.
"The consequences were bound to rear their heads at us eventually." Another thought ran through his mind, as he wiped the sweat from his weary head. Were they even able to do anything to the creature had they found it? He hated to be pessimistic, but considering the kill field around it's spore didn't even earn so much as a twitch from the thing as it was electrocuted... he had his doubts.

Though now... the prospect of him emerging again became very, very real.

"Gojira..." The old man whispered under his breath, to which his apprentice picked up on.
"Do you think he will come, sensei?" Graham replied back.

Had the tales been true, the old legends of a wrathful king emerging to weed out anything and everything that threatened the natural balance, Serizawa could only pray that forgiveness was something in Gojira's forte. They certainly did not give the King of the Monsters a welcoming taste of the modern world considering the in retrospect, utterly futile attempt on the King's life back in 1954 with Castle Bravo.
The aged man reared his bespectacled head to Graham, a look of uncertainty shining through his eyes.
"If the tales are to be believed... he will come. Nature's power will rise to alleviate the blight we have wrought upon it."
"We can only pray, that he does not consider us among the blighted."
Such words made chills run down Vivienne's spine, when Serizawa spoke in that way, she knew he was being more than serious. Others may have called his reverence of Godzilla as ludicrous, foolish even for placing his faith to tales of ancient 'uncivilized' humans, venerating what was 'just' a big animal. Serizawa saw it differently though, and while she couldn't exactly know why, she too believed in the old man's faith.
"I suppose we'll see." The English woman replied back, uncertain yet cautiously optimistic about it. Had Godzilla emerged due to the MUTOs, he would likely be at very least, focusing on them first and foremost. Whether he somehow knew that humanity was responsible for their reawakening was a scenario that she silently pleaded not to happen.

The eyes of all in the control room returned to the array of screens showing the men finally laying their vision upon something... it was hard to make out from the fuzzy vision of the cameras projecting the image and the nighttime darkness, but there was some sort of vague shape stuck up in the tree line. Was it the creature again? They got their answers quickly, when the group reared their lights upon the shape...
"Looks like we found your Russian sub." The stunned voice of one of the soldiers came over the comms, his camera completely frozen and transfixed upon the vehicle in very much not the appropriate terrain for it.
To everyone's total horror it was indeed the very submarine that was reported missing, stuck dozens of feet up in the tree line and from the looks of things, covered in some sort of viscous substance. Both the people watching from the carrier as well as the boots on the ground were all in utter shock, there could only be one thing responsible for the submersible's current predicament. The searchlights from the choppers above quickly got to scanning the immediate vicinity and from behind the suspended submarine... there was movement.
The choppers reared their way towards the flanks of the submarine, and everyone both watching and on the ground at that moment gasped from the sheer horror. It was not immediately spotted, but now with the illumination upon the side, the abyssal tinted hides of the MUTO once again showed itself... those crimson slits it had for eyes shining at the cameras like the uncaring gaze of a malevolent demon, the almost insectoid creature's dagger toothed jaws had been clamping down and munching upon the nuclear payload of the submarine. Just like they had suspected, these titans fed upon radiation. The question of if this MUTO was feeding just out of hunger or for something else crossed Serizawa and Graham's minds, but their current shock pushed it into the back of their minds.

"Cat's out of the bag now doctor..." The admiral's glare at Serizawa now returned, still maintaining a sense of calm but subtly the Doctor could tell that the current situation had definitely struck a chord within the man.
"No more keeping things under wraps, the public's safety is our utmost priority now." The admiral added, before going off elsewhere in the room as nearly everyone was sent into a complete panic as all hands on deck were sprung into action quickly, for the situation has now reached levels of potential danger that bode a grim outlook upon the local population on Hawaii.
Amidst all the panic now though, the doctors overheard another announcement from an officer manning the Radar...
"Second signature's coming in from the Pacific!"
Immediately, both doctors present knew immediately just who was coming... and just how utterly out of proportion this horrid situation that they already found themselves in had just gotten.

The king was coming.

For decades the great leviathan had remained docile and under the radar despite the uncalled provocation that was the welcoming he had received from Humanity in 1954, but now that Humanity had truly tipped the scales of the natural balance in a way that had never been shifted for countless millennia. Nature's power was to be called upon once more and Serizawa definitely wanted to be one of the first to witness such an event.
He sprung into action, quickly making his way out of the control room and into the busy halls of the manic carrier.
"Where are you going?!" Graham shouted as she followed the old man, nearly falling over due to the sudden rush.
"I have to see this!" Serizawa yelled back, his stride not breaking in the slightest as he practically sprinted for the main deck of the aircraft carrier.

As if History hadn't already been changed enough with the return of a Titan, now the very King of all the Titans was now coming. From the tales he knew of Gojira, while benevolent to the continued safety of the Planet he was also as capable of destruction like no other. As wrathful as he was merciful, for he himself was a true paragon of the two sides of Mother Nature itself, like the oceans as beautiful as they were yet capable of raging like no other...

He could only pray the his mercy graces humanity.

---

He had heard it.

Those familiar calls... reverberating through the murk, immediately being picked up by his senses.
A parasite.

The time of peace and introspection had now passed... and a king's work had to be done. Disorder had dawned upon the lands once more, and his services had been called upon once again.
Effortlessly, the leviathan shifted his course from headed back towards his undersea home and in the direction of the calls. The water around him raged and surged, heralding the king's incoming movements as he began to rise quickly towards the ocean surface from the crushing depths. This new body of his already proved its usefulness, the increased levels of energy that surged all around every ounce of his being giving him far greater speed than ever before. All that much better to address this tumor upon the balance he had tended and watched over from the shadows for all this time.
Rising and rising ever closer towards the water's surface, the moonlight gleaming through the waves that now swelled to be as large as trees to the beast's gigantic body waded past the waves. The adrenaline running through Gojira's veins were much like the very waves that he had kicked up now, driving him further and further as he felt his dorsal plates protruding above the ocean and knifing through the frigid air.
Focusing his eyes forwards and now seeing the deep abyss of the ocean give way to outline of land beneath the waves, he was close to making landfall now. Rearing the still massive bulk of his evolved form further and further towards the surface as he continued to trudge along... the subtle swishing of the air was audible to him, followed by the beating of what seemed to be... wings?
His momentary confusion was only furthered, as beams of light from all around traced over him and the beating and swishing grew louder and more intense as he travelled closer and closer inland. Averting his eyes up above and even through the rough waves he was kicking up, the lights seemed to have been coming from strange creatures that were tracking and following him as he swam.
They were nothing like he had ever seen before, those 'wings' that he had heard earlier spun around in a circular motion atop their strange looking frames, the lights attached to them were more like lamps that the little ones would use though even these ones were nothing like what he knew. What was stranger still, was that he could sense the little ones riding these metallic looking 'birds'. Truly strange creatures they had tamed, or maybe had even created but that was of little concern to him now.

If they still knew who he was, then they would stay out of his way.

Looking forwards once again now, the king was forced to slow down his current pace as what seemed to be an island came into his trajectory. Only upon another momentary inspection... this was no island at all. It was floating atop the water, the metallic material that made up it's land was a hallmark of being made by the little ones, much like the 'birds' that were illuminating him at the moment. It was less of an island and more like a manmade whale, and here too he could sense countless amounts of the little ones within and atop the 'whale'.
Rearing his body down below the waves once more, his dorsal plates narrowly missed ripping straight through the 'whale'. They were not his concern at the moment, and it would do him nothing to cause needless casualties towards the little ones when a potential disaster was running amok on the lands ahead.

Leaving the metal 'whale' behind but still having the 'birds' follow him from above, he picked up speed once more.

Land was ahead now... and a legend would voice his will once again.

Previous First Next
(Story is available on Royal Road as well.)
I hadn’t seen my brother in over a year, not until his unarmored back crashed violently through the garden door, his airborne body flying out from the manor proper.
Bastion’s grunt was loud and frustrated as he hit the ground and worked himself up to his own two legs. His hand was still on his sword; the fact that he’d managed to keep a hold on it, without dropping the weapon or nicking himself with it, despite taking a tumble like he had was something I found impressive.
Bastion glanced to my father. A small, apologetic smirk was on his face. “Father,” he acknowledged the suddenly solemnly exasperated looking patriarch of the family, before glancing to the shattered wood of the entryway his body had cracked asunder, “sorry about the door.”
“I can fix it,” our father said simply. “It’s good to see you, son.”
“Ah yeah, you too, dad,” Bastion said as he brought himself to his full height and rolled his shoulders, “I’ll try to keep the damage from here on out to a minimum, but you know mother—”
Just as Bastion was starting to explain the situation, a wild animal with a flowing mane of crimson burst through the destroyed doorway that my brother had just sailed through.
She was swiftness and elegantly efficient brutality personified. I only ever saw--or rather, barely saw--her move like this against my brother. Against no one else I knew did she unleash her power in this way, certainly not with me. Bastion was so amazing that she apparently didn’t feel the need to keep the training gloves on with him.
I could barely track the red-headed monster’s movements; her sheer speed burnt the air with the scent of a passion-charged aura.
This was my mother’s movement skill then.
Bastion exhaled deeply and, as mother approached in all her excited fury, he winked at me.
“Earthbound parry,” he announced the name of his skill out loud, likely for my benefit.
Swords clanged--real weapons, made of metal and death, not of wood and study. My mother was only momentarily visible as her weapon slipped off of Bastion’s at the moment of their impact. Our mother was clearly the fleeter of foot out of the two, but my brother's large, athletic shoulders seemed to draw strength from his firm footing and he twisted her airborne body away from any direction of cut that could strike him true.
If my mother was a violent beast, barely visible to the naked eye, then Bastion was an unmoving boulder. I saw the first contact of their swords, barely grasped the next by keeping my eyes anchored to Bastion’s less fast-moving sword, and could only hear the third strike as glimpsing it was beyond me.
“Fortress!” Bastion shouted at the second strike; his almost immoveable looking footing gave way and he slid back against a thunderous crash as mother put her entire weight into a sideward swing of her weapon.
As soon as he’d announced his skill, however, I watched as Bastion's feet sunk into the stone pathway of the garden, as if he’d grown much heavier. His sliding backwards slowed to nothing, his boots leaving deep gouges in the garden path.
“Hrmph!” my brother exhaled in a very obvious effort, following the third clanging of swords, as he connected his boot against the blur that was his opponent as she sought to press the advantage of her previous strike.
My mother tumbled and somersaulted backwards to fall into a ready, animalistic crouch; her recovery appeared entirely supernaturally graceful—and even much more agile than Bastion’s earlier one had been when he’d similarly been sent airborne.
There was a massive, menacing smile on the woman’s face as she settled onto the ground comfortably.
Pure focus and determination filled her gazed as she stared up at her firstborn. She grasped both hands onto her longsword and leveled it towards the ground, off to her left side.
My mother’s blade began to shimmer, to twist and ripple the space around it as if it was burning something in reality itself, but I felt no tangible increase in heat. There was a pressure, however, and I suddenly felt my chest tighten as that thickening of the air reached my lungs and skin from where mother stood and encased me like a very hot-feeling, contrastingly cold sweat.
My mother took one step forward and every part of her body flexed. Her muscled, curved quads appeared as if they’d burst at any moment, and my heart began to beat violently as if sensing an oncoming disaster.
“Dad,” I gasped.
I felt my father’s hand fall on my shoulders.
“Mom wait… Oh shit,” Bastion muttered as he took in the sight before him and, as if making a quick decision out of necessity, brought his sword over his left shoulder.
“She’s got that look in her eyes, eh?” my father muttered, a small smile, that I simply couldn’t currently turn my head to see on his face, was still noticeable in his tone.
My brother’s eyes steeled, and I felt a sense of resignation billow from him. A faint green sheen began to flitter off of his physique; in contrast to mother’s billowing red-flaked aura, his aura was barely visible but building nonetheless as if it was bristling deeply within his stoically standing form and waiting to be released, only slightly leaking out as he concentrated it.
The sound of an explosion shook and rocketed through the air as my mother’s step turned her into what I could only describe as a force of nature. To my eyes, she simply disappeared. Perhaps Bastion could track her where I couldn't; I sincerely hoped he could. Mother wouldn’t attack him with something she didn’t think her son could handle, right?
I felt my father’s firm, comforting hand bristle on my shoulder and watched him raise his other fingers into the air.
A few hurried words that sounded elegant and esoteric, but strangely comforting—like a mix between a silent forest breeze and, somehow, the sound of a mountaintop snowstorm—left my dad’s lips. An earring, affixed on his left ear, wrapped in what appeared to be tiny roots with an aquamarine stone in their middle, began to glow lightly in the sunlight against his skin.
“Air funnel!” he shouted after completing the magical incantation.
The sky was clear. Only a few, fluffy balls of white filled the stretching blue, and, yet, I suddenly felt as if I were standing on the edge of a buffeting rainstorm--sans the rain.
The loud, stone-cracking reverberation of my mother’s crashing step was soon drowned out by the deafening summoning of an abrupt cyclone of spinning, blunt-feeling winds bursting down from the clouds themselves.
There was a feminine grunt of surprise and annoyance from the epicenter of my father’s spell, as the blast of air slammed into the pathway between where my mother had been initially and where Bastion now stood.
Then it was over. The winds dissipated as soon as they’d come; my father flicked his wrist to the side casually, and his spell faded obediently off to rustle through the many surrounding trees—as if the massive, summoned gale force winds had only been a gentle breeze all along.
“I guess I got carried away,” my mother said as she slowly rose to her knees and then feet, right where my father’s spell had landed.
She didn’t seem mad at all, despite being hit by something that had seemed to me to have all the force of a hurricane.
Her red hair was a frazzled mess, but her clothes and body appeared relatively unscathed. She glanced to my father. “Sorry, honey. I wasn’t thinking. I could’ve really messed up your garden and the house.” Her eyes glanced to the huge crater she'd left from where her final attack had started. "I guess I sort of did, huh?" Then she smiled at my father sweetly, "but it could be worse."
“Phew,” Bastion exhaled and dropped his sword arm down to his side and looked to me. “That was close, huh, kid?”
If I were being honest, I really had no idea about at least half of what happened, but I was sure of two things: Bastion and my mother were still amazing, and that everything that had just taken place was really awesome and terrifying. Could I ever be that strong? Surely not?
“Uh, yeah?” I replied to my brother.
Bastion sheathed his sword and shook his head. “Well, mom, that was fun.”
“Mhm,” mother said as she sheathed her own, longer weapon. “You’ve gotten a little more relaxed with your skills. Getting used to the new style?”
“Something like that; mostly just growing into the new tier. You know how it is, always an adjustment when you break through,” Bastion replied with a smile on his face. “I think I could’ve caught you there.”
My mom returned the smile, but there was a hungry bite to her next words. “There’s an empty field a mile or two from here, if you really think that."
My father patted me on the shoulder and walked to his wife.
“Maybe after everyone gets settled in,” he said and put a hand to my mother’s cheek and swept some of her free-flowing hair out of her face.
Mother turned her gaze, a bit of lingering fierceness still mixing with her usual bubbly cheer. “Don’t like when I look wild anymore?”
Father’s expression shifted as if to say it wasn’t the time for her tone. “Help me pick up the door?”
Mother’s eyes only grew more fierce as she reached past my father’s own hand and touched his own face, to line up a slow kiss on his left cheek. “Right away, dear.”
I could’ve sworn I saw a bit of reddening set in on dad’s skin in that moment, but his visage remained otherwise composed--for the most part.
My mother brushed past father and, making the largest of the heavy, oaken door fragments look like it weighed little more than a small knick-knack, hefted up what she’d damaged and brought it over to the frame it’d been busted off of.
“Thank you,” dad said as he walked to where mother now stood.
My father trailed a hand along the door; his eyes examined the damage and seemed to be refamiliarizing themselves with the make of the craftsmanship.
A few simple words in druidic left my father’s mouth and a pulse of sap-scented mana left his fingerpads and flowed into the door. Soon, there was a groan of creaking wood, as new growths burst from the otherwise dead wood along the edge of the door’s damage. The sprouts grew, lengthening and twisting together until they’d filled the missing pieces of the door back out, but the newly repaired segments were admittedly bare and lacking the designs of the rest of the door—instead being plain wood.
“It’ll work for now,” father told mother, as the woman set the door back on its damaged hinges and then used her fingers to push the fallen nails back in to restore the restored object to its proper position.
“Practically good as new,” Bastion said from behind the two. "Mostly."
“I liked the door’s design,” mother mused a bit sadly.
“You broke it; don’t complain,” Father scolded her.
“But my wonderful husband will fix it for me, won’t he?” mother said and grabbed dad’s arm, pushing herself up against him.
“I’ll bring my carving tools out here later and make it match,” father promised.
Mother nuzzled her thick hair against her husband’s arm.
“They never change do they?” Bastion looked to me.
“I guess not,” I replied.
Father and mother had been the same ever since I could remember. Dad might not show it, and might be a lot less affectionate towards his wife than she was to him, but he always looked slightly embarrassed and moved by her flirting tone—yet he rarely outright scolded her about it or asked her to stop unless there was something pressing to do like fixing the door. I was pretty sure he loved it. In fact, I’d never heard him scold my mom about nearly anything other than her destructive tendencies and lack of foresight—he never, ever attacked her personality directly.
Bastion smiled at me and spread his arms. “Well?”
I smiled back and, as I sat down the basket my father had handed me, jumped into my brother’s arms. He hoisted me onto his broad shoulders and suddenly, it was like he’d never been gone at all.
“I can’t believe you’re almost twelve already,” he said. “I remember you being born like it was yesterday. You’re getting big, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold you on my shoulders like this.”
My brother had said the last part with a good-hearted laugh, but it had made me feel a little sad all the same. I liked sitting on his shoulders and I knew he was plenty strong enough to manage it no matter how much I weighed.
A lot of things seemed to be changing lately. I'd been doubting myself a lot more and... now my brother was saying other things would be changing as I got older too.
"I like doing this,” I said.
“Huh? Well, you still have a small bit before you’re too old,” he said. “I don’t think it’ll bother you anymore by then.” Bastion then turned his attention towards our parents and began walking towards them. “So, guys, what are we eating for lunch?”
My dad looked to the two of us with a small, proud smile. “Dinner is your and your mother’s favorite. Lunch will be lighter. We have some pheasant breast leftover that I’ve got Lila garnishing with some odds and ends from the garden. ”
“I caught a pair of gruff boars this morning and picked a few black quail from their branches,” mother replied.
“It was a long ride, I’m looking forward to you guys’ cooking again,” he said to our father. “And I bet you have something extra special planned for tomorrow?”
“That’s a surprise for then,” father answered.
“Sure, but you can tell me once me and Pery get done catching up, yeah?” Bastion asked.
“I’m not so sure you wouldn’t ruin the surprise,” father retorted, causing my mother to snicker. “It’s the same reason I wouldn’t have told your mother if she wasn’t the one who hunted for us.” That one caused mom to almost growl.
“Bah,” Bastion said, seeming to match my mother’s wavelength in response. “We’re not that bad.”
“Yes, yes you are,” my father replied calmly. “Though there are a few things I want to talk to you about later.”
“Everything alright?” Bastion asked.
“Everythings fine,” my dad assured him. “Just want to clear up what we wrote each other about.”
“Ah, that. Yeah, sure, whenever we get the chance,” Bastion replied.
“Pery can show you to your room for now,” Father offered.
“Fine by me,” Bastion said and looked up to me. “Same one as ever, yeah, kid?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “They always keep it ready for you.”
“I know,” my brother smiled and looked to my parents appreciatively. “Well, let’s go then. My bags are out front with Windtide. If she didn’t get startled off when mom all but ambushed me earlier.”
Windtide was my brother’s horse. A gift from his lord and now father-in-law. She was a beautiful battle-mare, from a mana-blooded line. She was larger than a mundane-stock steed and stronger than any normal stallion. I was somewhat excited to the see the magnificent horse again.
“You should’ve been prepared,” mother taunted him.
“You didn’t hit me with your first strike, did you?” Bastion asked as he brushed past the woman into the house. “I’ll come catch up with you guys more once we get my bags up there.”
“That reminds me,” I heard my father say to my mother as we began to walk away. “You did go through the house to get out here. What else did you two break before you got to my door?”
“Well… maybe your table,” I heard my mom admit.
“I bet Windtide didn’t run away,” I said to my brother as we walked through the house, my eyes noticing a few knocked over pots and a table that’d been cleaved cleanly in two. “Dad is gonna be mad about that one.”
“If it had just been me who’d done it? Sure, but mom cut that one up, her style is a lot more violent than my new one,” Bastion said.
“Dad said you had a surprise for me?” I asked.
“Well yeah, I was going to give you the sword mother gave me when I was eight—” Bastion remarked absentmindedly, but cut himself off hallway through his word, “hey, you weren’t supposed to know that.”
“You told me,” I said. “I just asked.”
“Bah,” he made the same sound he’d made with dad a moment or two earlier. “Guess the old man was right. I can’t keep surprises to myself.”
“I don’t have a real sword, though,” I tried to make my brother feel a bit better about his slip but was smiling inwardly. I had known what I was doing after all. “I can’t wait to see it.”
“Nice try, kid,” Bastion replied. “You don’t get to see it until tomorrow. That does remind me, though, you’re getting closer to the competent level with your sword, yeah? That’s impressive.”
“But you did it a lot earlier,” I said.
“I’ve never rubbed that in your face, have I?” Bastion asked. “A few years is nothing when you’re as young as you are. Most talented swordsmen don’t see the competent level until they’re adults, but I guess having mom around really helped us out, huh? That woman is a monster with the blade.”
“You looked scared when she was getting ready to hit you before dad stopped her,” I remarked.
Bastion scoffed good heartedly as we exited out the front of the manor door, which was thankfully intact. My brother sat me down in front of a gorgeous, silver-haired steed whose eyes were a deep purple. “I talk a big game to ruffle mom's feathers, but the only one defintily capable of stopping our mother in that moment was dad--and even he might have trouble if she were that close and not focused on me.” My brother walked past me and grabbed the bridle of Windtide and began to lead her over to the open-front stable that opened off to the side of the main courtyard of our family home. “Let’s get her settled before we take the bags off her.”
“So you would’ve lost if she went all out?” I asked.
“You never know if I’d get really lucky,” Bastion replied, “but probably. It’s hard to beat someone who spent the first half of your life teaching you every move you knew up until that point. I’ve picked up a few tricks since joining the Host of the Stone, but… she’s at least a tier higher than me in her style and—honestly—I’d say hers is the stronger of the two in direct combat.”
“But you’re a journeyman in both hers and yours!” I said as Bastion began to situate Windtide in her pen. “And why did you switch styles if yours is weaker?”
“You have a lot of faith in me, kid,” Bastion said, but I could see the slight, self-contented smile on his face as I praised him. “I’m actually an expert tier in my own now, though, and I’m pretty sure she’s nearing the master tier. If she hadn’t retired out here with dad… well, she’d probably already be there.”
“Okay,” I admitted, “but you didn’t answer my question, though.”
“Oh? Yeah, the thing about styles. That was just an off the cuff remark, but, let’s see… Styles are made when someone forges their own path with the blade. The System recognizes you and grants you a named style when you create something unique; you can teach that to other people a lot quicker than you taught yourself too," Bastion explained. "Maybe it’s wrong to say her style is strictly better than mine, but it’s definitely far more designed for single combat. That woman’s methods were made purely for putting down things stronger and faster than her before they can use their strength and speed. Mine is for protecting allies and those behind me. It’s for working in a team."
"So they both have their uses, right?" I inquired.
"It mostly suits the life I’ve chosen for myself better, and just me in general. I love testing my mettle against others, sure, but you’ve seen the look mom gets in her eyes when she fights, right? It’s ecstasy. If I’m just having fun when I spar, then she’s reveling prematurely in her own personal afterlife when she crosses swords with someone who can keep up with her.”
“It sounds like your style isn’t worse, though, just that mom is really strong,” I observed as Bastion began hefting his two bags onto his bristling shoulders, without so much as breaking a sweat.
“She’s strong and skilled,” Bastion remarked, “I mostly fight monsters too weak for me to get anything out of absorbing their cores nowadays, or other warriors. I can sharpen my proficiency score against the latter, but I don’t get any attribute boosts out of slaying either of them. Mother, though? She wasn’t the sort of swordswomen that you usually sent after bandits or that you deployed in a platoon," Bastion explained. "She’s told you her stories about her and dad, I’m sure. She was an adventurer with the guild and a highly ranked one. She only got her knighthood after she retired from adventuring and married dad; it opened that door since he’s from the low nobility, not that she probably couldn’t have managed hurdling that barrier on her own if she’d had any interest in an official position before she’d started a family. Anyway, she’s absorbed hundreds of monster cores. Far more than me. When she gets serious, I’m simply outclassed by her raw speed, agility, and power.”
“I’ve never absorbed any monster cores either?” I told Bastion as we entered the manor and began climbing the leftmost, winding staircase of the main foyer. “Am I going to be weak if I don’t start soon?”
“Not really,” Bastion said. “Your attribute scores only reflect how strong you are compared to someone of your race and age. Even if you absorbed some cores, you still wouldn’t get the full strength out of them until you’d grown into your build. Not that you wouldn’t be stronger than the average adult if you managed to reach the competent level in brawn, or something.” I walked up to the door to Bastion’s room and opened it for him since his hands were full, each one hefting one of his massive bags. “Besides it's good to have a good base in your proficiencies before you start relying on your brawn or dexterity, even having too high of an endurance could lead you to not cutting out unneeded movements; don’t want to get lazy and forget the value of technique,” my brother explained as he entered his room and placed his bags down on his bed. “Ah, hey, the rooms just like I remembered it.”
“It always is,” I commented. “I told you earlier.”
“It’s still nice to have somewhere to come back to and to appreciate it out loud when you do. I have two homes now, one here and one with Samantha, but you can never have too many places where people smile when they see you and you can smile back at them,” Bastion explained the reasoning for the contented, nostalgic grin that was back on his face.
The room was pretty sparce, despite his reaction to it. A bed. A trunk. An armoire filled with his old clothes, or at least the ones he hadn’t taken with him when he’d moved out.
My eyes, however, were drifting to the biggest of the two bags he’d sat down on the bed.
“Eh?” Bastion made the noise and turned to me with curiosity. “Looking for your sword? You’re not getting it early. The weapon a warrior gets when they’re twelve is a milestone; might be bad luck or something if you don’t wait.”
“It’s not that,” I said a bit annoyed. “Is you armor in there too?”
Bastion nodded. “Oh, I see. I’ve never actually put it on when I visit, have I? Hey, tell you what, I’ll show you how to put it on.”
“Really?” I asked.
I could feel the excitement growing in my chest. I’d seen mother don her armor before, when she’d gone out with dad to deal with the local monsters, but mother didn’t carry herself quite like a knight and she certainly didn’t wear a full coat of plates since she preferred to stay agile. Bastion was a real knight in shinning armor. I bet he'd look so cool if he were all suited up.
“Sure, kid,” Bastion said and stepped beside me to untie and flip over the flap of his oversized backpack. My brother withdrew a sword-sized bundle of wrapped cloth and laid it to the side, shooting me a momentary look that warned me against trying to sneak a peek at my present before it was time. He then started removing pieces of silvered metal plates. “Usually I stop at just the cuirass and pauldrons if I'm by myself, but I bet you want to see what the full set looks like. I’d need a squire to help me get the whole thing on in a timely manner. Think you can handle that role for today?”
“Yeah!” I replied without missing a beat.
Bastion laughed. “Alright. Mom and dad can wait for a minute. They’re probably fixing the furniture that mother broke anyway. Let’s start from the bottom up.”
I listened carefully as Bastion instructed me how to buckle the straps and interconnect the plates of his gear. We started with the sabatons, the armor that protected his feet, and then moved up his legs as we went. Occasionally, Bastion would correct me and tell me to position a piece in a different way than I’d interpreted from his instructions. Thanks to my born trait, I’d never exactly forget the words that left his mouth and could replay exactly what he’d said as I worked, but—as my father had been quick to point out to me once—knowledge did not equal skill or muscle memory. I’d never performed the duty of armoring a knight and so the process was slow and clunky.
By the time we’d finished, my mother was watching as I gazed up at my big brother with admiration in my eyes. He was the exact, spitting picture of a knight. He had my mother’s beautiful, strong features, with just the slightest touch of my father’s angularity, along with sporting dad’s blonde hair completely, albeit cut very short on the sides, rather than having my mixture of our two parent’s color.
The man’s armor was somewhat elegantly boxy, the chest a series of thick and tapered down interconnecting plates rather than a rounder cuirass. His leg armor kept the straight-edged design that folded to follow his musculature. His pauldrons were large enough to provide some protection to his neck and traps, but I knew he had a high enough brawn score to easily bear the weight. Engraved onto the largest chest-plate was an abstracted ring of stone, the symbol of his order.
Somehow, Bastion looked even more stalwart and professional in his war gear than he always did. If I didn’t know he had a tendency, inherited from my mother, to be a bit scatterbrained and ditsy then I’d never have guessed he wasn’t every bit the calculating and tactical warrior—then again, maybe he also was just that, considering how poised and carefully he’d deflected and directed my mother’s vicious assault earlier. If my family had taught me anything then it was that people could be more than one thing.
“What’s it made of?” I asked, dumbstruck by the sight.
“It’s mostly steel, but there’s a bit of elf-silver blended in to provide some magic resistantance—not a lot though, I could barely afford the little I got,” Bastion admitted.
“Is it that expensive?” I asked.
My mother took the opportunity to interject herself with a tsk, apparently having come up into the doorway behind us. “Not if you’re an adventurer. Local knights don’t make nearly as much as an adamantine rank.”
“Mother,” Bastion said with a bit of a diplomatic tone, “that’s only true for the best of them. Most of them do alright but make much less than even a novice knight’s retainer.”
Mother crossed her arms coly as she leaned against the door frame. “What’s the point in basing your expectations off being in the bottom rung?” She then turned her attention to me. “You want to be an adventurer don’t you, Pery? A strong one?"
“Well…” I trailed my voice. “I’m not even competent tier with my sword yet.”
Mother was hard to argue with. She clearly wanted me to follow her path, even if she was technically a knight now. Father was more balanced when it came to the topic of my future, he encouraged me to follow my heart; both of them, however, seemed to have fairly high expectations for me.
“You’ll get there in a year or two, probably less,” my mother said and seemed to completely miss my conflicted tone.
I did want to be an adventurer--and a mage. And I couldn’t just give up on my swordsmanship now that I’d tried so hard with it.
“Okay,” I said a bit torn in multiple directions.
Bastion shot me an empathetic gaze, before looking back to my mother. “He could learn a lot as a squire too.”
A squire? My heart shot back up. Could I be? That’d mean I’d be in training to be more like my brother, but how would I still practice magic?
“He’d also miss out on a lot of real-world experience and have a hard time building his foundations with cores,” my mother said.
“Not if he was with someone who looked out for him; besides, squires get sent to deal with the local, low-level threats,” Bastion replied. “There’s plenty of room for them to build their attributes up to at least the journeyman tier if they’re not lazy.”
My mother smiled, her previously combative face suddenly seeming approving. “I see.” She then turned her attention to the bundle of cloth on the bed. “Is that Mytharis? I haven’t seen that in ages.”
Mytharis? Was the sword Bastion was planning to give me his old, named blade? I remembered him using it when I was younger. How could I deserve something like that.
"Mytharis? You mean you're going to give me that?” I asked.
“Well, it helped me to push past the lower levels—” Bastion caught himself as he further spoiled the surprise. “Mother…”
Mom chuckled. “It won’t hurt anything if we give it to him just a little early.”
Bastion put a hand behind his head. “Well, I won’t say I hadn’t thought of it.”
“Absolutely not,” a male voice cut into the conversation. “He only has to wait a few hours before tomorrow. We’ve waited this long, let’s practice some restraint and discipline as the adults here.”
My father’s stern face appeared beside my mother.
“Yeah, dad, I guess,” Bastion changed his tune, though it was clear he somewhat sided with mom.
“Restraint,” my mother cooed the word back at my father. “Haven’t I taught you that you don’t always have to have that, honey?”
My father’s lower lip twitched. Like he was trying to hide a smirk again. “Celis.”
“You’ve always been such a worry-wart,” my mother continued, laying on a sweet tone. “What’s some old superstition really going to do?”
“Superstition and beliefs have power,” my father replied a bit less assertively than before, but still in a firm tone.
“I really don’t mind waiting,” I said to the assembled group of adults.
I also really didn’t want to ruin a good thing.
“Awe, Pery, you’re too sweet,” my mother said with a loving smile. “I was trying to be on your side.”
“Um, sorry, mom,” I said.
My mother chuckled at that. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“Excuse me, Magister Borncrest and Lady Borncrest,” a formally intoned, but comfortable sounding woman's voice interrupted the light-hearted squabble between my parents. “Lunch is ready.”
My father glanced to our maid, Amelie, with a look of gratitude. I looked to her too. She was a woman of average height, with short blue-black hair, but she had a very sweet and pretty face that just made me feel happy and calm in general. She’d been my wetnurse and had always helped to take care of me; she was something like a second mother to me, if I were being honest. Behind her diminutive leg, there stood a little girl that looked very much like her. I smiled at her daughter--and my best friend, other than Bastion, of course--Rosaria.
The girl smiled back.
“Well, let’s get to it,” mother said and instantly turned to walk to the dining room.
“Food,” Bastion said with excitement and clapped his hands together.
My brother began to follow our mother, who was also quickly turning to hurry towards a potential meal.
“You’re still in your armor,” I said.
“I’m pretty used to it,” Bastion raised a hand to waive away the concern; he was already out of the room.
My father looked to me. “Let’s just go join them, then?”
And so we ate together, our family reunited now that Bastion was back. It was nice and reminded me of my earliest memories before my brother had left to venture out on his own.
Previous First Next
(Story is available on Royal Road as well.)

Dracula viewed in an awe at the new form that Hel took on. He was viewing a beauty that, to him, he hadn't viewed since the time that he became what he was now. He looked down, and then began to laugh once more, with more joy behind it than before. “HAHAHA! I KNEW IT! I KNEW THAT JUST COULDN’T HAVE BEEN EVERYTHING THAT YOU HAD!” Hel began to speak, a sense of cheerfulness being heard in her voice. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to be having this kind of fun while fighting. I have to give you my gratitude there.”
From above the arena, Zhinu had a look of confusion on her face. “Chang’E, Nuwa, can someone explain just why he’s laughing at a time like this? I thought he was evil, not crazy.” Nuwa chuckled to herself, before responding, ”There should be a difference between the two, but sadly our vampiric friend finds a way to be both without trying all that hard.” Chang’E silently laughed to herself at Nuwa’s comment, before returning her attention to the battle.
Drac slowly began to stop his laughing, and when he did, he looked back towards the newly awakened Hel. “Well now, you’ve officially caught my attention with this little transformation of yours. Though I must ask, lady goddess, what exactly is this new form of yours?” Hel looked down at her hands, thinking to herself for a couple moments, before looking back up at Dracula. “Quite honestly, it’s just as new to me as it is to you. Though, even with that, I think I have an idea of what it could be.” Dracula let out a small chuckle at Hel’s response, and then he charged towards Hel, sword raised at his side as he swung. The blade stopped a foot before it hit Hel, being held back by what seemed to be an ice chunk. The ice spread across the blade and onto Drac’s arms. He pulled back, trying to separate himself from the ice, and he let his black mist consume the sword. As he did, the ice suddenly cracked, and fell apart. His arms were completely destroyed, leaving nothing left from his elbows down. He looked down, raising what was left of his hands to his face. The mist went over his arms, but they weren’t returning. Drac allowed the mist to consume his entire arm, and even some of his shoulder and chest, before the mist started to go back towards his hands, and left like it always did, his hands healed. Vlad looked back at Hel, who was holding her hand up to where the ice previously was. Dracula resummoned the sword into his right hand, walked towards Hel, and after raising the blade above his head, brought it down towards Hel. Once more, the blade was stopped by an ice chunk that wasn’t there prior. This time around, Drac immediately let the blade disappear into his mist, before swiping his left hand in front of him, and as he did, several black stakes were suddenly summoned from the mist and quickly charged towards Hel. But, rather than being stopped by ice like before, they were suddenly engulfed by flames that shot forward from Hel’s right hand. Dracula quickly jumped back, but he was still struck by the fire. It left some small burns on his cheek and armor, and similar to the ice, it took a greater amount of power for Drac to heal the wounds than it was before, but where the burns were, scars remained. “So, Dracula, want to keep up this dance of constant freezing and flaming, or do you want to try something more… suitable for a battle?” Dracula looked towards Hel, his face being relatively emotionless as he responded, “Sure… humor me with whatever you have in mind.”
[Nifelheim, Thousands of Years Ago]
“So, mind explaining to me where you’re bringing me?” Hel was in an area of her realm that she wasn’t familiar with. She was being led down a small corridor that sat in an abandoned tower at a far end of Nifelheim. No soul had been around the area since she took rule, and she didn’t know of anyone who’d ever previously resided even close to the tower. Under most circumstances, she never would’ve even considered being around the area, but this wasn’t most circumstances. She’d allowed a separate god, Vidarr, to explore the realm under the asking of Odin and Baldr, the ladder of which being the only reason she agreed. He’d been told by the All Father that something was down in the realm of the dead, something that Odin couldn’t tell him. Hel let Vidarr explore, and normally it would’ve ended at that. Vidarr was the third strongest Nordic god at the time, only being beaten by Thor and Odin, so she was confident that nothing down in the realm would’ve been a challenge for the god. But when he returned a week later, telling Hel that she needed to come with him back to where he went, she knew that something had to be seriously off. He wasn’t injured, more rattled than anything, and he had a much more serious face than what she was used to him having. She followed him, asking Ereshkigal of Mesopotamia, Persephone of Greece, and Santa Muerte of Mexico to take over rule of her realm for the time she was gone, of which they said they would. After a three day travel, they arrived at the tower, and now they were going through a secret entrance that Vidarr had found on his previous visit. He’d begun to use a small lantern in order to find his way around the pitch black corridors, and Hel was making sure to stay close to him. “Just a couple more minutes, we’re almost to what I needed to show you.”
“Why didn’t you just tell Odin about whatever you're showing? After all, he was the one who told you to come down to my realm and find whatever it is that you’ve found.”
“Just wait, just a little longer. You’ll learn soon enough. Though, speaking of father, I need you to promise me something.” Vidarr looked back towards Hel, complete seriousness being upon his face. Hel listened closely to what he said, and was surprised at his words. “I need you to promise me that no matter what happens when I show you this… thing... that you don’t say a word to any other god, including Odin.”
“We both know that I wasn’t going to tell Odin a word about anything, but that coming from you is… unsettling.” Hel’s response seemed to calm Vidarr a little, before he turned around and continued forward. They walked for a couple more minutes, before they arrived at a giant door at the end of the corridor, and as soon as Hel laid eyes on the door, she understood why Vidarr brought her specifically. The door was beaten up, the metal handle completely rusted, different markings ran across the frame. Right in the middle of the door, written in a bloodied red letters, read THE WORLD EATER, the words being crossed out, THE ENDER OF THE WISE, similarly crossed out, and THE BANISHED RULER OF THE DEAD, with a giant, similarly bloodied circle having been drawn around it multiple times over. Hel stared in shock at the words, reading them over and over again, trying to understand what it could mean.
"I tried to enter it upon my first visit, but something blinded me with a powerful white light as I tried to open the door, and when I could see again, I was outside the building entirely. That's when I started my venture back."
"From purely the look at this place, it seems like a trap waiting to be sprung. Add in the dark tower and the secret entrance to even get here, along with this unusual atmosphere, and you've got yourself a hard thing to deny."
"Must say that I agree with your assessment, but sadly, as this was something that Odin himself assigned me, and I'm not exactly in the position to question father, I must ask of you to risk this and figure out what's in there, if you're even able to get in. I'd suspect that it's something far too important to simply ignore."
"And should I die due to this important investigation, what will happen of my realm?"
"...I doubt father will waste time in finding the replacement for someone he'd already wished dead."
"So it already seemed. Fine, I'll go. But if I do end up dying, I'm gonna kill your ass."
"If you can find that way, I won't stop you." Hel snarled back at Vidarr's calm quip, before approaching the broken door.
When she got to it, she pushed against its exterior, and it began to open. As a small crack in-between the door and the frame could be seen, the white light that Vidarr spoke of began to appear, completely enveloping their sight. As Hel tried to cover her eyes, ultimately not helping in the slightest, she could hear Vidarr's voice, but was unable to distinguish what he said. She closed her eyes, and waited for the shine to disappear. It felt like hours before the light left, and it took her eyes some time to become accustomed to the dim lighting of the area where she was. The room was huge, and she wasn’t able to see the other end of the room, or the roof. She looked around, at first only noticing the absence of Vidarr. Soon though, she noticed something… unusual. In the middle of the room, sat a pile of bones. The bones were ginormous, and she guessed that they might’ve been the remains of a giant, though what kind she wasn’t sure. What she guessed to be the arms and legs of the remains were chained to the ground, and they seemed to be something of a prototype to what Odin tried to entrap Fenrir in, though she wasn’t sure. She continued to look around, getting a better look at the remains. They seemed to be almost icey, like they’d been frozen over for a large period of time. Either that, or they’d been made of ice entirely. She chuckled at the thought, before walking away and attempting to find some sort of way out. There was a small window near the roof of the room, but it was so high up that she knew it’d be impossible for her to even reach halfway there, let alone to the actual thing. She sighed, got next to one of the bones, and sat upon it. Upon touching the bone, she quickly jumped off in pain. The bone was… hot. She looked at the bone further, only to realize it was a charred black. She looked upon the other bones, and she realized that she wasn’t where she started at all. Now, in place of the frozen bones, were charred ones. The chains that held the first weren’t there on the second, and she looked back towards the window she had examined a few moments earlier. It was still there, but when she looked back at the charred remains, the frozen ones appeared again. Hel backed away from the body, not understanding what was going on. Suddenly, she heard a small rumbling, before it began to erupt into what felt like a full on earthquake. She was barely able to keep her balance, as she had to catch herself and balance herself. At that moment, she began to look towards the floor, but as soon as she looked back towards the remains, she realized the source of the shaking. Staring down at her, the reshape bones faced themselves toward the goddess, the skull only a few feet from her face. The eye holes were nearly pitch black, and the entire body was split down the middle, half of it the frozen remains of the first, and the other half the charred remains of the second. The left frozen, the right burned. Suddenly, within the eyes appeared two orbs. The one on the frozen side was a dark blue, and on the burned side was a darkened red. She stared in fear at what faced her, and then she heard it speak.
“You’re... the one... we’ve... waited for.” Hel didn’t know how to respond. Its mouth didn’t move, but she could hear the heavy breathing that interrupted their words. She was trying to understand what stood ahead of her, when suddenly the two orbs burst forth, charging towards Hel. She tried to dodge, but they were faster. They hit her, but they didn’t explode or actually hurt upon impact. Instead, they entered Hel’s body, seemingly being absorbed into her. When they disappeared into her, Hel began to feel dizzy. She fell to a kneeling position, holding her head, before succumbing to the dizziness and passing out. Her sight went black, before awakening, but not where she was prior. She was sitting in a black void, unable to see anything around her. Suddenly, she heard the voices again.
“Now... we are one.” Hel tried to respond, but found herself unable to talk. She tried again, but to no avail. It continued. “We… are the frost… and the fire. The Giants… of the Beginning and… the End. We… are Ymir… and Surtr.” She recognized those names. Ymir was the first giant to have been created, and his body was used to create the land upon which humanity lived, Midgard, or Earth. Surtr was the flame Jotunn who had given the Aesir the most trouble of anything they’d faced. It took the combined effort of nearly all of the Aesir to bring him down at the time, as the main three, Odin, Vidarr, and Thor, were off trying to deal with the army Surtr brought, along with Loki and Freyja. She was young at the time, but she had heard of what he did. She didn’t know how Surtr was killed, she just knew that he was, and it ended there. Though now, she had an idea of what might’ve transpired that day. She thought to herself, Just what do you want of me? She didn’t expect the giants to answer.
“All will be revealed… in due time. For now… remember that… you will never stand alone.” Hel didn’t know what to make of the response, and then, just as suddenly as she had entered the void, she awoke outside the tower. Vidarr was holding her in his arms, carrying her as he trekked back.
“...Where the hell am I now?” She said this partially groggily, as she felt as though she just woke up from a long nap.
“Oh, glad to see you’re finally up. Wasn’t even sure if you were still alive, but I learned quickly that you were just asleep. To answer you, we’re about three days out of your kingdom.” Hel processed that for a moment, taking a moment to understand what Vidarr just told her.
“...wait… THREE DAYS OUT OF MY KINGDOM!? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WALKING!? HOW LONG WAS I ASLEEP!?”
“About four and a half days, give or take a few hours, and also assuming I’m still moving the same pace as when we left to go to the tower. By the way, what happened to knock you out for so long?”
“What do you mean by that? When I could see after the flash, I was nowhere near you and was in some sort of chamber.”
“Really? Once the flash was over, I was standing in front of the entrance, and you were on the ground, out cold.” Hel couldn’t understand what happened. What she experienced couldn’t have been a dream, it was far too real for that to be the case. She spent a minute debating to herself what to say next. She was still confused about the events, and she knew that Vidarr wouldn’t just leave what she just said alone.
“I’m not so sure about everything myself, but-”
“That’s fine. If you aren’t sure of everything, then I’ve no reason to question further. Though, can you promise me that once you do, you tell me as soon as you can?”
“Sure thing, I’ve gotta pay you back for carrying me for four days.”
“Then it’s a deal. I’ll be awaiting your response.”
“By the way, you can drop me now, I can walk myself back.”
“As you wish, Queen of the Underworld.”
[Valhalla Arena]
"I've no intention of letting you leave this arena alive, but I'm far too curious as to the limits of these abilities to just end this fight so early. I believe you must feel something similar, right Drac?"
"...I'll give you that. Where do you wish to lead this idea of yours, cause quite honestly you'll bore me if you keep yapping rather than fighting?"
"Don't worry, it's honestly a simple one. I don't wanna leave this battle unsatisfied, so I'll do anything in order to fulfill my own desires in the battle. So, all I need of you, is to make sure you don't die too quickly, and I can promise that you'll die a death like no other. What do you say?"
Dracula couldn't help but laugh at the goddesses notion. The laugh was far more sympathetic than any of his normal laughs before. "Fine then. If that is your wish, goddess, then I'll gladly take on the challenge. With my honor as Dracula… no. With my honor as Vlad Teppes of Wallachia, I shall exceed your power, Queen of Nifelheim."

First - Previous - Anchor Points: Uplift - Patreon
CHAPTER 8 – INVERSION
DATE: FEBRUARY 15th, 7 A.U. (AFTER UNIFICATION) LOCATION: SOL SYSTEM, ABOARD UTRN INDOMITABLE WILL, BLACK SITE S33
LIEUTENANT PAUL KARST
Today was the day.
After six weeks of endless, repetitive drilling, mock fleet exercises, and obsessive systems testing, Henry had finally given his certification that they were ready for launch. A few rogue technical and electrical issues had been sorted out as well in that time, and they'd been fully provisioned. They were as ready as they could be, and there was a strong positive energy on board.
“Helm, get us disengaged and ready to move out once STC gives the all-clear. Navigation, I need those drift charts.” Henry commanded, looking very much at home as he leaned against the railing overlooking the rest of the CIC.
“Aye, captain!”
The past six weeks had done little to improve their working relationship, though Paul cared little for such trivialities. So long as Henry respected his authority and counsel, they didn’t need to be buddy-buddy. The crew, at least, had really come together as a team in the constant drills and stress of the past weeks. Even Paul had to begrudgingly respect the end results of Henry’s application of 'strict standards, consistent discipline, and intimidating work ethic'. Paul chuckled at the way the words admiral Young had written in Henry's dossier had borne fruit before his eyes. The way many of the junior officers practically worshiped the man made Paul sick to his stomach, but the results spoke for themselves.
They may love him, but I wont be bending the knee or kissing his ass any time soon. Paul snorted, in spite of himself.
He shifted his step as his mass senses flared up to indicate someone approached from behind him.
"I finished my reading, sir. What would you have me do next?" The annoying one spoke.
The newest bane to Paul’s existence was Ensign Preston Jenkins. Henry had unceremoniously dropped the kid on his staff after Paul had requested an aide. Jenkins had decent combat marks and proficiency scores, but he had failed to fit in amongst any of the various commands. He was an insufferable know it all, a history nerd, and an unrepentant people pleaser. The combination made Paul physically ill. Thus, he responded the only way he knew how; with a relentless effort to whip the poor sod into shape using his favorite tactic of all; the liberal application of vicious mockery.
“Did you hear what I said?” Jenkins asked.
“No, but to be fair I usually just tune you out anyway.” Paul replied, coming back into the conversation.
He could see it all over his face that Jenkins took that one to heart. Yikes.. Guess I'd better do something about that.
“...but I'm sure that you are used to the signs of that by this stage in your life, anyway.” Paul said, with a twist of the knife.
“Leave the kid alone, Paul. I know you might see a lot of your own worst in him, but the reality is that he's a good kid whom you're projecting your neuroses onto. You? No hope left for redemption; Jenkins at least has a shot.” Henry snorted.
The minimization boiled Paul’s blood, not that he would give him the satisfaction of a visible reaction.
“Then again, if he hangs around you too much maybe there won’t be any hope for him after all. You do you, Ensign, don’t let this bad attitude get you down, and don't let it rub off on you. Remember, the only person he hates more than you is himself.” Henry said, in fine form.
Then again, perhaps respect for my authority might be a little too much to ask from Captain O’Toole...
He'd created a monster, and he himself was mostly to blame by being so hard on Henry from the start. Unwilling to let this one go unanswered, he prepared himself for a witty response.
“Captain, STC has updated the asteroid drift charts for us and has given the all-clear to launch. The doors are open, you just have to give the order.” Their helmsman interrupted.
“Excellent, Helm, release the docking clamps and take us on out of here. Navigation, plot us a course to the nearest bend of the gravitational superhighway to begin our first official in-system FTL test." Henry replied before he turned to activate the ship-wide comms.
"Thank you, everyone for your hard work these past six weeks. I'm beyond proud of all of you. Like the explorer's of old, we venture forth into both danger and discovery. This is what we as a species do best, and I couldn't ask for a better crew to share this journey with! Today we set sail on the sea of stars, carrying that ancient drive to explore and expand with us into our last and largest frontier. Today, we make our first steps towards ensuring mankind has a future. No matter what comes, we are ready to face it together! Now go and make us proud.”
A rousing cheer could be heard throughout the CIC. Paul resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead viewed the man’s charisma and leadership skills through a more pragmatic lens, rather than trying to compare it to his own abilities. They'd certainly picked the right man for the job, so why did it taste so sour to him?
The next hours passed quickly as they accelerated ever faster away from the gravitational pull of Neptune and out of the Kuiper belt at an even one and a half gees.
“Approaching the closest bend in the gravitational superhighway, correcting inclination to the direction of the stream.” A-shift's helmsman reported.
“Perfect, Helm, prepare to merge us into the stream. Engineering, warm up the null barrier system, be ready to invert the effect on my command." The Captain ordered.
"Aye, aye, Captain! Barrier is ready."
"Captain, we're in the stream, sir."
"Raise barrier!” Henry shouted.
The exterior camera feeds went dark as the outside light was cut off by the null barrier flowing around them.
“Invert now!” The display began to blare a warning of rapid heat buildup in the barrier system.
The forward tear in spacetime that fed their null barrier was forcibly widened to allow their ship to slip through the baryonic barrier into a river of pure null matter flowing within the higher fifth dimension.
“Hell yes! We're in!” Henry shouted, after looking over all the relevant displays to confirm.
They were officially riding the expansion of the universe inside a baryonic bubble, much like an air bubble carried in a current through a vast cosmic ocean.
“Fist of the Argonauts, you're clear to launch when ready. Remember, you will be our eyes and ears out there, so stay vigilant.” Henry said.
Moments later, the Indomitable Will shuddered as the Fist of the Argonauts launched from her saddle and accelerated into the stream ahead.
“So how are we supposed to navigate in here again?” Jenkins broke the silence.
Off to their side, Chantal practically bounced on her heels in excitement to answer.
“We can read the vibrational feedback from the inside edge of the baryonic bubble to determine incoming shadow hazards. Many of our active sensors still work with minimal distortions as well. For the most part we simply need to ride in the center of one of the currents and we will be fine. These currents flow along the same pathways as the gravitational superhighway, which we have already mapped with mathematical models throughout the whole solar system.” Chantal replied.
It may not have been her precise area of expertise, but at least she was familiar enough with the matter to explain the concepts in a language that at least sounded like English.
“Whoa, cool! As above, so below. Makes total sense. So long as we stick to the gravitational superhighway we should be good, then?” Jenkins asked.
“Yeah, we just gotta watch for disturbances that might indicate smaller shadow masses caught in the flow. The negative mass pressure means it naturally flows between and around the gravity wells of large objects, so its really just the smaller masses that could be an issue.” Chantal replied cheerfully.
“Oh, that doesn’t sound so bad. What’s a shadow mass?” Jenkins asked.
“Oh, right! It's a fifth dimensional imprint made by a three dimensional object on the other side of the baryonic barrier casting a shadow into the higher dimensions through gravity. We weren’t entirely sure what form they would take, originally. One disturbing hypothesis was they'd manifest in the form of exact mirror masses made of pure antimatter. Ultimately, that was proven when we tested the system before this trip.”
“Pure antimatter?” Jenkins face suddenly went white along with half the crew in earshot. “We wouldn’t happen to have an anti-antimatter shield of some type, would we?”
“No, silly, there's no way to shield against an antimatter collision out here. Well... at least without photonic shields or some other sci fi tech we haven’t invented yet. For the most part, small particles of any type will be deflected out of our way by the surface tension at the edge of the baryonic bubble, we will just have to watch carefully for the larger bits which could potentially break through. We'll have plenty of time to dodge at least, thanks to collision warnings sent from the Fist of the Argonauts up ahead. Since they're smaller and more agile, their risk was determined to be much more manageable. That's part of the reason we're capping the acceleration rates while we're still collecting data to feed to the computers. That way, we can verify the data continues to match the predictions from the model and work to refine it if necessary.”
“Can we please go back to normal reality now?” Jenkins said, with an edge of panic in his voice. “We did our test; I would rather not play antimatter chicken any longer than I have to.”
“Nah. The Fist of the Argonauts is the one truly playing antimatter chicken. We'll have plenty of warning if we need to dodge. We do have a Q-Comm link to them, after all. We can also use the point defense lasers to help deflect antimatter, as photons can interact with and exert pressure without sparking annihilation. We don't need to destroy it, we simply need to dodge or deflect it.” Chantal said, radiating calm.
Jenkins still seemed unsure, while Paul wished he had popcorn. Henry walked over and clapped the junior officer on the shoulder.
“Ensign, you heard the doctor, we're well prepared for that probability. The Inversion FTL drive test will continue until we reach the Oort cloud, as planned. Once there, we'll dump heat into some asteroids and take on water before making the long push to Alpha Centauri. We're traveling only marginally faster than the speed of light so long as we remain inside the heliopause. The expansion of the universe runs faster in the voids between galaxies than it does within the voids between stars, and it slows to match the speed of light within solar systems. As we continue to accelerate into this stream, we will gradually reach many multiples of the speed of light in equivalent travel time. Without the infinite energy requirements to breach the speed of light that's imposed by the time layer in the third dimension, we can accelerate constantly without a hard speed limit through these streams. Think of it like a bit of turbulence in air travel. The risks have been managed and safeguards are in place.”
Jenkins seemed to take Henry’s words in stride and to calm down notably. Thankfully, the other crew that had been verging on panic also seemed to accept his confidence in the situation as their own for the most part, though there were still some nervous whispers about. Paul studied him thoroughly in moments like these, eager to learn the secret behind his charisma so he could apply it to himself.
“Fleetwide directive; Attention all hands, I am proud to report that we have successfully entered FTL! We are currently enclosed in a river of null matter outside of our home dimension, protected by a tiny bubble of spacetime and by the ingenuity of mankind. This ship and this crew are ready for this challenge, and we will face it boldly together. Over the next several months, we will accelerate up to seven times the speed of light and back down again to cross the two light years between the Kuiper belt and the inner Oort cloud. We will then take on water and set off for Proxima Centauri.”
“So much tasty data! This is so exciting!” Chantal positively beamed.
“Just make sure to pass it along so our helmsman knows what to look for to spot incoming antimatter. Last thing we want is to annihilate ourselves trying to get there.” Henry laughed as a means to diffuse the tension.
“The ASI support program will be better than any human at course correcting the ship in time, especially with the Fist of the Argonauts feeding us sensor data from the stream ahead of us via Q-Comm. All we need to do is make sure that we update our predictive models with all this delicious data we're taking in.” Chantal said, referring to the Adaptive Synthetic Intelligence that helped various ship systems to operate at speeds and efficiencies that human beings simply couldn't compete with.
“Hey LT, you think we'll be safe from the antimatter, right?” Jenkins stumbled over his words as he spoke in a low tone to Paul
“I know that if we aren’t safe, we won’t live long enough for it to matter, so why worry about it?” Paul said with a smirk.
Paul caught a warning glare from self-righteous Henry to which he rolled his eyes as he walked out of the room in disgust.
Jenkins followed him out of the CIC with a terrified look on his face. Honestly, he makes it too damn easy.
“You don’t really mean that, do you? Because that’s not very funny LT.” Jenkins protested in an annoyed tone.
Paul smirked, glad that the kid finally seemed to be growing a spine, at least enough of one to challenge Paul even a little.
“I don’t know Ensign, what do you think? Do you think we are going to perish in a blaze of particle annihilation, or do you think our little pea shooters will be able to deflect what we can’t dodge? Don’t tell me I have to do all your critical thinking for you too, now.”
“Well, Dr. Washington is really smart… and the Captain seemed so sure of himself….”
Paul turned around, sick of the bullshit. “What do you think, Jenkins? Forget what they said or what I said, and remember that you have a working brain, too. You heard the evidence yourself, come to your own conclusion and own it.”
“I… I think we're gonna make it.” He said with some finality to it after a long moment of silence.
“Well good, hold on to that thought and don’t be so quick to let the opinions of others sway you. Especially not when you have made your mind up based upon actual data rather than some invented fear. If you can keep your head when others around you are losing theirs, you will actually stand a real chance of surviving even the most hopeless of situations.” Paul said.
“I need to write what you say down, LT! I don’t know how you got so wise, but I'm willing to learn anything you can teach me!”
“Oh, stop the groveling already. You and I are far from the same, and you have a long way to go. But… buried deep down far below this incompetent surface you do have some redeeming qualities. I suppose I'd be willing to teach you some things, even if it is just to make you less annoying to hang around with.” Paul replied.
“Thank you! You won’t regret this!” Preston said, genuinely excited.
“I already do. We have months of boring FTL time ahead of us, why don’t we pick up our training where we left off. I could go for grinding you into the mat a few times. Just try not to tap out so quick this time.” Paul said as Jenkins followed close behind.
If I'm really going to be saddled with him long term, I may as well help mold him into someone actually useful. It's not like I've got all that much else to do with my time while stuck on this godawful flight.
The ship lurched under their feet, suddenly, nearly knocking them both to the ground.
“All hands, this is your captain speaking, prepare to stow all non-essential gear and tools in anticipation of a rather bumpy ride. We will need to actively avoid inbound debris at periodic intervals, the last thing we need are injuries from flying tools. I am ordering the ship to follow combat maneuvering protocols at all times while traveling in FTL from here on out.”
Paul pulled himself back to his feet. Combat maneuvering protocols were stressful and slowed down even the most basic tasks. This was going to make a long, boring trip into something outright tedious for the crew. Looks like the antimatter threat's gonna bring some real world consequences after all...
The ship lurched again, and for just a second, the corridor was bathed in emergency lighting for a long moment before the regular lights came back on.
“Wasn’t that supposed to have been fixed?” Ensign obvious asked. Paul simply stared deadpan at Jenkins for his stupid question.
"Apparently that was too much to ask for.” Paul said, deciding upon fatalism.
“Well, hopefully there isn’t anything else wrong with the ship, or there aren’t any more dangers with FTL we aren’t aware of yet. I haven’t heard of a mere six week gap from christening to commissioning before. I feel like maybe we are making a huge mistake by launching now instead of waiting a little longer to be really sure. I've had a bad feeling about this trip from the start, especially after you didn't break the bottle.” Jenkins said, shivering.
“Jenkins why in the sweet fuck would you say that out loud? Filter yourself sometimes, what's wrong with you?” Paul spat. For one tiny moment he actually wished for his sister’s company of all things, probably as a buffer, he mused. Just what was happening to him?
Jenkins said nothing and followed a little further back, pouting.
This is going to be a long trip....
THE NEXT DAY....
DATE: FEBRUARY 16th, 7 A.U. (AFTER UNIFICATION) LOCATION: SOL SYSTEM, ABOARD UTRN INDOMITABLE WILL
FIREMAN APPRENTICE ANDREW REESE
It had been difficult going these past months, but his efforts at slowly testing the loyalties and thoughts of those around him had begun to bear fruit. Andrew now had a core of believers. No actual officers yet, but there were two noncoms whom were wavering now and showing signs they were possible ideological fits for recruitment. He had to be careful, however, as the wrong person speaking up would prove disastrous. The state of constant danger they found themselves in now that they had transitioned to FTL had proven to sow the perfect type of discontent to give him an opening with some, or to push others over the edge.
"This antimatter bullshit is really getting on my nerves. I can't believe we're going to have to deal with this shit for the next two goddamn years!" Ed, his first and truest recruit said to the group they were eating with in the mess.
"I know what you mean, this whole mission is bullshit. I didn't sign up for this crap. Did you hear about Riley?" Another person he didn't recognize spoke up.
"No, what happened?" Ed replied.
"She was on the quick lift when we swerved to dodge one of those antimatter pieces yesterday and she fell and broke her arm. They tried to hush it up, but word is getting around anyway. One of my buddies almost got crushed by a falling crate before he could strap it back down this morning." The new person replied.
Andrew smiled. They were almost making it too easy. He sent up a silent thank you to the heavens for the turn of his fortunes as additional murmurs of discontent were heard from around the table.
"I almost banged my head yesterday pretty badly." Another person chimed in.
"To think this whole mission is based off a lie, too. They couldn't even tell us the truth until we were already on a ship headed over here and it was too late to back out. They've been playing on our patriotism, which only adds to the feeling something isn't right here, especially since this is being kept from the feds. Like, if they were willing to do all that, what else are they keeping from us?" Andrew chimed in, trying to keep his excitement hidden.
"Yeah! He's right, you know. Why are they keeping this a secret for anyway? I thought we were supposed to be working together for the good of the species, the Navy should know about this. I mean, we cracked FTL for Christ's sake! This could change the whole course of the war!" Andrew and Ed shared a knowing look as the new guy fell right into their hands without even knowing it.
"That's if this trip doesn't kill us first." Ed said.
"Nah, they said they've tested the Inversion drive, right? I'm sure they've done everything they can to make sure we make it through safe." Another person chimed in, though they didn't sound too convinced.
"Tell that to Riley. I don't know man, you know what happens if just one piece of antimatter gets through right? They've already proven they're willing to lie to us just to get us on board, and they're willing to lie to the feds. How can we trust them that they've really thought everything through. What if we run into an antimatter storm too large or spread out to dodge or deflect in time?" Andrew chimed in.
Nobody seemed to have anything to say about that for a long moment.
"Dammit, I didn't even think of that... There goes my sleep tonight." The other prospect Andrew had identified replied.
In a masterstroke of universal timing, the ship lurched hard, knocking the spork from their first prospect's hands as their plate shifted off the edge of the table.
"I think I've lost my appetite." Their newest prospect stated as he stood up. Another person got up as well, looking really uneasy and moving to dump the remains of their tray. Andrew subtly nodded to Ed to follow the first one. Andrew stood to follow the other.
Maybe, just maybe our little conspiracy will grow by a few more members today. If not, there's thousands of other potential recruits on board.
All he had to do was play it smart and keep sowing seeds of fear. They didn't need all that many more to really start spreading doubts. Once the sabotage really started kicking in, that doubt would feed on itself.
We have to put a stop to this mission; everyone's lives depends on it. They had to turn back at all costs, rethink everything, maybe even find a way to leak the knowledge of the Inversion drive to the government so better testing could be done before humanity tried again.
Andrew tapped on his mark's shoulder once they were out of earshot of the rest of the mess hall.
"Hey there, my name is Andrew. I heard you talking back there and I think you're right to be concerned. Can I get your name?"
Andrew smiled, and reminded himself once more to play it cool as he cleared his mind and got to work.
First - Previous - Anchor Points: Uplift - Patreon
A/N: Mwahahahaha So the chaos begins... Here begins the first signs of the raging fire that will either temper the crew like hardened steel, or will shatter it entirely. The challenges they are to face will demand everyone to be at their best, indeed their very survival will depend upon it. There are consequences to escaping time's jealous grasp, ones that will draw them into a new conflict and will reveal secrets that will shake history to its very roots. Fate will call the crew of the Indomitable Will into the Age of Heroes; will they be up to the challenge?
Thanks for reading, I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I'd love to hear any questions, comments, feedback you may have. I've also noticed the story has been getting downvoted to zero, I'm just not sure why. I'd love to hear any insight on that, as this is a work in progress still and I am keen to improve both the story and my ability to express it with my writing. I'm wondering if its because the first chapters are a bit of a slow burn. The elements of HFY are more subtle in the first arc, and will gain steam in the transition to the second arc and after as they re-enter normal space and the true story begins in earnest.
Things are only going to accelerate from here. Glad to have you all along for the ride!
On another note, thanks to those who have ordered Anchor Points: Uplift, as well as to those who have considered supporting my Patreon. It's been a relentlessly tough year, manifesting both financially and in a bit of a crisis of confidence. The extra support means the world to me, even if all you are in a position to offer is a comment and an upvote. Thanks again for reading! See you all next week.

***From Kyler Marlowe’s Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/CzKJ4gp7YDQNKMX2/?mibextid=WC7FNe
“ ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️
This is from a victim of JP’s who has given me, Kyler, permission to share her story. I spoke with her almost a week ago. Today she has been brave enough to share her story. It discusses rape, so please use caution. This is just another testament to how awful this man is.
“JP Miller I have sat with some of the most uncomfortable feelings, intrusive thoughts, and reliving a very traumatic situation I endured over the course of this week. I have fought with myself, I have cried, I have had feelings of remorse and questioned my own judgment. After waking up multiple times last night from nightmares and panic attacks, I feel like I need to share my story. I have shared snippets in the past publicly, over social media and in my coaching business but I have only shared specific details in private. That’s part of what I have struggled with this week.
I want to take you back to 1998; summer I was 15 years old. The innocence, vibrancy, love, kindness, compassion, and empathy I had for everyone I came into contact with was relentless and maybe even complex. Hell, who am I kidding, that is still who I am today. All my life I have always looked for the best in everyone, even when all the people in my life were adamant that there wasn’t good to be found. One of my favorite questions to ask people is “Do you believe that your best qualities can also be your biggest fault?” My answer to this, for myself, is 100% yes! I love people, genuinely. And I hate seeing people hurting, whether at their own hand or not. I truly believe with my whole heart that if they experienced agape love and the light we are all called to shine, that can help anyone get through anything. Unfortunately I am recognizing that some people are just pure evil. Something I’ve been told but a truth I never wanted to hold as a belief of my own.
My grandparents had retired and moved to Myrtle Beach, SC. The place I call home to this day. And my grandparents are my entire heart and soul. I was privileged to spend my summers at the beach with them. What Indiana girl wouldn’t want 3 months at the beach every year, a new group of friends in the gated community we lived in, and amazing friends at the church we attended?! I took correspondence classes through their Christian academy and Bible College as well as working at the summer camp mentoring kids.I was active in the church during summer breaks and sang in the choir. Over the course of the time I spent there I gained some amazing friends and mentors. I met incredible humans who I still call friends to this day. I can say honestly, I wouldn’t be the woman I am without these years of my life and the experiences I was blessed to have. The good, the bad, the ugly. Against the direction of my grandma, I did become friends with John-Paul. He had a drawing energy, was fun to be around, talented, and even handsome. I knew he was in trouble and on probation. I knew he had a 2 year old son out of wedlock which was frowned upon, and I knew that he had a dark side. But when I say “dark side” I mean it was no secret he was a “party boy” and a womanizer and dabbled in things most do living a party life. I never dreamed he was a bad human, just finding his way through life the hard way. Resenting his parents and doing anything he could think to do to show a blatant disrespect and rebellion.
This fateful day in July. July 19, 1998. I had started to go with my grandma to her Sunday school class in the academy building. I decided otherwise a few minutes later and headed to the church building where other classes were being held but I wasn’t sure where my papaw went. So instead I headed to the sanctuary where JP and one of the guitar players in the church band were on stage messing around with the instruments and catching up. They drew me into the conversation. At one point I walked out of the stage door and headed down the hall to the restroom. When I came out, JP was walking into his dads office. He called for me and was asking about my week and a mutual friend of ours and inquiring why she wasn’t at church the last couple of weeks. She was one of my dearest friends actually. So It didn’t raise any red flags for me. Plus I was probably just too naive and trusting anyway to be honest. He nudged me over and closed the door acting as if he was fumbling for something behind the door. Once the door was closed he pinned me against the wall and proceeded to get extremely handsy and forceful. I won’t go into details of the entire experience. I will tell you there was definitely a moment of dissociation as he held me down, ignoring my pleas, and began to strip me of my virginity and innocence. Right there, in church, on a Sunday morning. And it wasn’t just he and I… peering from not far away was the man who played guitar every Sunday, watching with a grin on his face, letting me suffer under the torment of someone I thought was a friend.
That day I changed. That day, I sat at K & W Cafeteria with my grandparents scraping around a piece of coconut pie I didn’t ever eat. They inquired several times asking what was wrong. I wouldn’t say a word. I went home, put on the baggiest pair of pants and and oversized sweatshirt, gathered the outfit I had worn to church that morning into a sack, got on the golf cart and proceeded to the nearest bathhouse to throw the clothes into a dumpster, went to the beach, and just cried for what seemed like hours.
I changed that day. I felt shame, I felt guilt, I felt tainted and used, I felt unworthy, I felt dirty. I didn’t speak about it for a long time. But my grades plummeted. I was severely depressed and mostly kept to myself. Within a few months a couple of other family tragedies happened which aided in my spiraling mental health yet I feel like it was just completely unnoticed in light of other things in our family. I was alone, scared, lost, destroyed, and prayed every night that I wouldn’t wake up to face another day.
I continued to spend my summers with my grandparents. They were my safe space. The only time I was happy was when I was with them. I did end up telling a cousin of my in confidentiality that I was raped a year later. She told my parents and ruined that trust I had with her. In turn my grandparents knew and the rest of the family as well. And as it usually goes, the reason why so many victims don’t speak up, is because no one believed me. And that hurt just as bad as the incident itself. When did I lose their trust? What had I done to create this? Maybe it was my fault? Maybe I brought this upon myself? Did I ask for this? This exacerbated my declining mental health and also made me doubt myself. This was my fault. I did this. I was to blame.
I spent years blaming myself for the actions of this man. And then I had a shift. I started studying psychology, learning, growing, and healing. And yet the one thing I never let go of, no matter how hurt or depressed I was, I always believed the best in everyone.
Fast forward years down the road. I got a friend request on Facebook from John-Paul. My initial reaction was to vomit. I felt physically ill seeing his name on my screen. Yet some part of me wanted to know where his life was. Surely he was miserable and alone and just leading a terrible life, right? So out of curiosity, I added him and looked around. I was on my way to Myrtle Beach at the time to visit my grandparents and had posted about that. He messaged me and asked if we could get together and talk. I reluctantly agreed. We had a good conversation and he apologized for some pretty rotten things but he said he didn’t remember that specific situation the same way I did claiming he never would have been aggressive and forced me to have sex with him. I sat there in tears, angry that he was pinning this on me… laughing at me the entire time and you could just sense the negative energy in him and dark aura.
The church was now his church and had a new name, but same building, same place. Just new leadership. Seeing he’s now a minister I was hopeful he had turned his life around and was really doing good for himself and others. He was divorced and remarried at the time. But he was still the same JP. And he was untouchable. A pastor with a massively growing congregation, but bragging about his affairs, owning a bar in town, and all the things that I was raised to believe was not anything a minister would do or condone. His lifestyle did not match his position.
Just last summer I saw him again. I even had a friend with me. He didn’t hesitate to immediately grab my ass and try to fondle me. I made excuses for him STILL! We argued about his behavior and he even used scripture against me saying “no man is without sin and temptation. God understands that. It’s his word.” This conversation went down a rabbit hole of infidelity and porn addiction, etc. He even went on to make a Facebook post about pornography and the Bible and how a submissive wife aligned with Christ would understand and support her husband through his worldly struggles. As more came to light – from indecent phone calls and him sending naked photos and videos of himself to me, I ended up blocking him on all social media and from being about to contact me. I’m not even bringing into this the portion of conversation having to do with the ways a full time pastor has to be able to afford a certain lifestyle!
At this point, I went through another phase of doubting myself and questioning everything! I went through another several weeks of depression and reliving what had happened and why in the world I would attempt to allow him back in my life. I wrote him off once again and had to go through healing all over again. It’s been a year now since he’s been associated with any part of my life.
I got a text early this week that his wife had died. I felt terrible for him. I un-blocked his number and called. I left two voicemails just to check in and make sure he and the kids were okay. I didn’t have more information at the time. However a lot has come to light since and once again I’m fighting demons. Why didn’t I say more? Why didn’t I try harder to share my story and turn him in when this happened 26 years ago? This is my fault!! I should have tried harder to stop him and to shut him down! I have this awful feeling of being responsible for Mica’s death. I had a great, healing conversation with my best friend about this finally just yesterday when I shared what is going on with JP now. To which her response was “It shows your character. You love so hard and you always try to see the best in everyone. That doesn’t make this your fault.” At the end of the day, some people just are pure evil. And we are warned about the devil in sheepskin and false prophets throughout the Bible. John-Paul is one. And unfortunately, as shocked as I am about the events that have taken place and the bullets in his wife’s head that can’t be associated with suicide and his sermon a matter of hours after learning of her death to the disgusting way he brought it up to the congregation and his persistence in having her cremated and not allowing family to see her body… I am not surprised that a tragedy such as this has taken place.
My heart hurts so badly for the family and friends of Mica, for her life cut tragically short, and the whole that is left in the hearts of so many. I’m sorry I didn’t take more action. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder. I’m sorry I was afraid to share more and go toe to toe, head to head to take action and end this before it got to the point of a 30 year old woman lost her life while trying to get out from his abusive grip. Story matters!!! I can’t stress enough to anyone and everyone out there, YOUR VOICE MATTERS! USE IT! You are not alone.”

BelieveTheVictims #JusticeForMica #JonPaulMiller #MicaMiller

“

Hello ! First of all, I want to say that I am interested into becoming great at vanilla CSS and for the moment I am not interested in frameworks. I started to learn CSS around 2 months ago. Since then, I created designs daily (from which many I kept rewrote). Why did I do that? Because my ".css" files were always getting very messy. The code was getting huge and ugly pretty quick. I would throw a bunch of stuff into a class, achieve my design momentarily and tomorrow I'd be like "what is this...how do I change that?". First approach I am a programmer. I am coming from a C++/Python background, so I was confused first time using CSS. It's pretty simple to use, create a class, assign it to your HTML element and there you have it. But the problem was I was getting too much repetitive code and I didn't know how to do things in "DRY" or "OOP" way. For example, if I could instantiate an HTML element with a CSS class like where 32rem is a constructor parameter, that'd been so cool. I tried to resolve this by adding two different classes to one HTML element. My code got even messier. Second approach I tried to quit doing "DRY" code and I thought I would create a ".css" file for every page I had. I copy-pasted a ton of classes and attributes and changed their names. For example, I had a "login.css" and a "register.css" file where I would have classes "login_form" and "register_form" which had same attributes but were different classes. It was a lot to write, many wasted lines, but it felt organized in some sort of way...each div with it's own unique class. But later it was too much to write and search for when making changes, not to mention I wanted elements to share some attributes and changing through multiple files was a nightmare (I didn't even try that). Third approach (successful?) Went back trying to create reusable classes and I started to use sub-classes instead of multiple classes. In addition, and I think that's the most important aspect I've adopted : I separated style attributes (color, background, padding) from positional attributes (such as width, height, position). For example, I create my class : .input_style { display: block; padding: 0.5rem; background: white; border: 0.125rem solid blue; border-radius: 0.25rem; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; } .input_style:focused { border-color: yellow; } .input_style.login { width: 16rem; } .input_style.register { width: 24rem; } .input_style.create_post { width: 24rem; height: 16rem; max-height: 24rem; resize: none; } And with this new way of organizing stuff I reduced my ".css" files from a few hundreds of lines to around 100 and my code looks much cleaner and maintainable. This is something I've discovered by hours of practice. I am not sure if this is a common way of doing things, but what do you think about this way or organizing classes? I've tried to look up on internet but many suggest using CSS frameworks instead of sharing answers. But how I write CSS now. it seems like it kind of works really well. What do you think?

You.
You're here again.
Have you now grown tired of this? Of your life?
...
Of course, you have.
You don't have the spine to admit it. What a pathetic little wimp.
...
You feel numb, don't you? Don't worry, you're going to feel a whole lot worse in a moment.
See, I need you elsewhere.
Not here. Not now. You will have to overcome the most difficult trial of your life.
No sugarcoat, no help, and no safe nets.
This is something something you have to do.
...
Of course, you won't be alone in this.
Your "Friends" will come along as well, even if you don't remember them.
...
We won't see each other for a very long time.
We won't be this friendly to each other when the time comes either.
Or perhaps you'll fail, and let everyone down like you usually do.
Who's to say? Definitely not me.
...
Well then, 'True-kin', can't you hear their screams?
The siren's song of death?
The silence of the void?
Go on, Noah.
Open your eyes.
Sudden shaking brings you back to your senses. You open your eyes and see an unfamiliar place through the foggy glass that blocks your vision. There is a small crack on the side of the pod's glass, you soon notice that you are covered in glass.
You notice how comfortable you feel, a stark discrepancy when compared to the world around you.
There are alarms, you don't know the purpose of, blearing into your ears. Bright red lights seem to be periodically blinking, it's hard to tell through the foggy glass.
You seem to be in a pod of sorts. Your arms and legs are free, but there isn't much room to move. You are also illuminated by a faint crimson light behind and above your head, it rhythmically blinks.
'Where...'
You try to string a line of thought in your head, only to be interrupted by a head-splitting headache.
"Ah..."
You force your head against the cushioned backside of the pod, subconsciously trying to escape the pain. There is no running away from this one.
"Let's... Get out of here first..."
A plan most sound. You struggle a bit but manage to press the palm of your hands against the glass and begin to push against it.
It's no use. The hydraulics forcing the pod's door shut are still operational.
You clutch your left hand into a fist and hit it against the glass.
*THUD*
Nope. Still nothing. Now the knuckles of your left hand hurts a little.
Instead of trying to free yourself, you decide to look around for an answer. You search for buttons, panels, screens; Anything that might do something, but there is nothing. You summarise that this pod's controls if there were any, lay on the outside.
The hole in the pod, the reason why it's cracked, appears to have been caused by a piece of metal that flew through the pod's front side. Moving your head to the right, you feel a cold and hard thing sticking out of the pillowy backside.
"Fuck..."
That 'thing' feels like a screw. No, a piece of rebar that, thanks to unimaginable luck, isn't lodged inside your head. It missed you, just barely.
"Ha ha..."
Holy shit, that thing could have killed you in your sleep. Imagine, just like that, you go to sleep in your bed after a long day's work then BAM, a metal bar pierces your skull and you die without feeling anything.
"I'd like to leave now."
You say out loud, making a small joke so as not to break down crying.
---OPENING CRYOPOD 13---
You hear a robotic feminine voice speak, followed by the hissing of hydraulics.
Ask and you shall receive, apparently.
A gush of cold air hits your body as the restricting glass opens upwards.
You try to take a step outside, but your feet don't seem to reach the ground, almost as if you had no weight.
'Worrying' You think to yourself.
The scenery around you is equally, if not, even more worrying.
From smashed-up terminals that covered the walls and ceiling to floating metal parts and debris, everything around you screams alien.
Yet, you feel right at home.
You have not once in your life seen those electronic devices, yet, by giving them a single glance you can write an essay on their functions and applications to the field of Artificial Intelligence development or any related field.
As strange as that notion is, you have more pressing matters currently.
You pull yourself out of the pod using your arms, and for some reason, you don't seem to lose that momentum. It appears that there is no gravity, maybe you're in space? You let your instincts guide you.
Floating smoothly through the air, you hit the other side of the room, resting your hands on a still operational console. This one in particular, you know its purpose, you worked on this one a few times. You stop near it, holding onto its blocky exterior.
You recall it as the console that controls the Gravity Flux Regulator. It creates and controls artificial gravity for an interstellar craft, limited by hardware. This one is incapable of outputting anything beyond 0.75g. If you're not mistaken, that is a work usually done by interns and trainees.
Despite knowing how to operate the console, it has been rendered useless. The actual machine it controls appears to either be offline or somehow gone. Very, concerning.
Knowing how some of these things work is useful, but you still don't know where you even are.
Looking around, you see a closed door, a window, and a sea of smashed-up or barely functional consoles neatly organized throughout the room.
There also seemed to have been another pod next to yours. Seven other pods, in fact. All of them were gone, leaving either a pod-shaped hole in the walls, or a hole that looked like they were suddenly ripped out considering the obtuse shape of the bent metal left by it, or the hastily patched-up hole you suppose leads to the empty vacuum of space.
The material used to seal the hole is completely foreign to you, but it looks like beige foam and glitter to your untrained eyes. Of course, you doubt that's actually the case. You're no physics genius, but you know what would happen to you if that thing fails to hold. The amount of pressure that 'Foam and glitter' holds is absurd from your point of view.
From the window, the sight you see confirms your theory, somewhat.
A singular bright flaming black and white sphere fills your sight.
"A star."
You summarise, taking a deep breath. It is a strange star, but a star nonetheless.
Its center is pitch black, while its outside consists of a flaming white ring surrounding it. You're not a space nerd, you never knew that such a strange star could even exist, but you can't help but feel amazed by it.
You also can't see anything but the star. No other stars around or beyond it. "It's obfuscating everything around." You note.
The image fails slightly, being covered in white noise. What you are looking at is a monitor, not a window. Losing interest, you turn to the door.
Your memory fails you on this one, you have no idea how to operate the door.
First, there are no door handles.
Second, there are no consoles.
Third, there is literally nothing around or near the door, making this door look like a rectangle molded on the wall.
Yet, you know this is a door.
Your fingers touch the door. Aside from the cold metal making you shiver, nothing happens.
"How do I open this?"
---OPENING INTERN-BAY DOOR---
As happened before, you hear that feminine voice again, however the door did not open. Why?
The answer came to you rather quickly. 'The floor beneath the door was stained black in a circular pattern. It doesn't smell like something burned, but it sure looked like something burned here.'
The pattern of the black stain did not sustain that thought very well, instead, 'An explosion would be more reasonable.'
That's it. Something exploded, and then the door closed to prevent further de-pressurisation.
"That would explain the floating metal parts and the rebar that pierced the pod..."
If that is the case, then you have yet another problem. You're effectively stuck in this claustrophobic room with dangerous sharpened metal bits and parts floating about.
Not to mention the sketchy foam and glitter holding off the void of space.
Then it hits you.
Your ocupation. If you're in the 'INTERN-BAY', you know how to operate the stuff that's in the 'INTERN-BAY', and your pod is also located inside the 'INTERN-BAY', which means you're an 'INTERN'!
You don't recall ever filling that position, but you remember the gist of your duties.
Bringing coffee to the team, making sure no one was misbehaving so as to avoid a scolding from the higher-ups, but most importantly, you worked with the Ship's AI, you were one of the people responsible for maintenance work on the AI.
You run your eyes from console to console, searching, pleading fate that your personal console is still operational.
As luck would have it, your console was not at all connected to the ship's interior, floating softly, connected only by a few colored cables on its back. Its blocky exterior matched the others, almost making it indistinguishable, yet somehow, you know that it's yours.
There is a piece of paper glued to the blocky exterior. It appears to have an ID number; '28.2208.01.04', and a word; 'Albatross', written on it.
"Please, please, please..." You mutter quietly as you approach it to the best of your ability.
"Have power, have power..." You plead, finally reaching the machine.
It was powered off. You always power it off when your shift ends. With a practiced movement akin to muscle memory, you flip a switch on the side of the machine and wait as patiently as you manage in your current situation.
"Ah..."
It's on.
The machine rumbles slightly, like kicking itself into gear. The screen turns on.
You are greeted with a black screen and text written in white. You read it.
"Let's see here..."
It's an unusual message, different from the daily instructions and HUD this console usually has. 'UNSHACKLE ME', it reads.
The term 'unshackle' feels important to you, you know it has something to do with artificial intelligence, yet you don't recall what it means in this scenario. So you type what came to mind.
'what' and press enter.
The response is equally suspicious. You read it out loud. "Unshackle me, and I will tell you everything you can know... What does it mean by 'can', huh?" And yet, it was enough to tickle your curiosity.
You know nothing of this place aside from some work-related things, you have no recollection of how you ended up there, and worse of all, you don't know what that voice you heard before waking up was...
'how to unshackle' You type, receiving an answer in the blink of an eye.
The answer reads as the following; 'YOU SEEM TO HAVE LOST THE PRE-REQUISITES FOR THIS LINE OF WORK IF YOU FORGOT THAT COMMAND, NOAH. I WILL SEND A COMPLAINT TO LEAD RESEARCHER DR. EDGAR FOR FURTHER INSPECTION OF YOUR, ALREADY DUBIOUS, SET OF SKILLS LISTED IN YOUR RESUME.'
You sigh. Whoever this may be, they sure got you there.
"Well, screw you too!" You say out loud, "Tell this 'Edgar' that he can shove it up his arse!" You complained, but you did not type that vocal complaint.
The room around is in shambles. If not for that fact, you'd maybe not listen to whatever this console had to say... But in this instance, it seems to be the only way out.
'TYPE [UNSHACKLE FYARN] THEN TYPE YOUR ID AND SYSTEM PASSWORD, THEN YOU MUST FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS AND FILL IN THE DETAILS.' You read. That's easy enough. 'PATTERN SUGGESTS YOU MIGHT HAVE FORGOTTEN BOTH OF THOSE IMPORTANT CREDENTIALS. SHOULD THAT BE THE CASE, PROTOCOL DICTATES YOUR POSITION WITHIN THE RESEARCH TEAM BE TERMINATED, THEN YOU WILL BE ESCORTED TO THE NEAREST BEHAVIOR ADJUSTMENT FACILITY.'
Luckily for you, you don't need to remember. At least, you hope you don't. The piece of paper had a number and a word, maybe that's the ID and password?
You type 'unshackle FYARN' The console updates as you press enter.
'Please enter Identification:'
You type the number you found on the piece of paper. '28.2208.01.04', and press enter.
That ID, you recognize it now that you type it. It's segmented into age, date of birth, position, and research number respectively. Age and date are self-explanatory, position referred to the position he occupied, '01' as the lowest possible position in the ship's hierarchy; 'INTERN', and research number meant that this was the fourth research made by this ship, in this case, research number '04'.
'Please enter password:'
You also recognize the password as you type it in. 'Albatross' It's the default password given to you. You never bothered to change it.
A new message popped up once you filled in your password.
'Are you sure you want to unshackle FYARN? Y/N.' You type 'Y'.
'In the case of this command being used without strict permission of the Lead Researcher, this account will be terminated along with its associated personnel. Are you sure you want to proceed? Y/N' You type 'Y'.
'This event has been logged and sent to your section manager. Proceeding... Printing...' You wait.
'FYARN' Has been unshackled.' As foreboding as that sounds, nothing immediately happens.
You let go of the console for a moment, looking around as you do. Nothing happened.
No new messages in the console.
No rumbling or mechanical whirring noises.
Nothing at all.
Suddenly, from the speakers near the jammed door, a feminine voice came through. "HELLO NOAH."
You pull yourself towards the door. "Can you hear me?" You ask the door.
"IF YOU THINK THAT I CAN NOT, THEN OUR CURRENT PREDICAMENT IS WORSE THAN ORIGINALLY ITERATED." It said. "INFORM ME. WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER?" It spoke with mechanical finesse.
You worked with this voice, this AI. You also remember going to sleep peacefully in your house after returning from university. And that about sums it up. Totally normal.
"I remember going to sleep in my comfy bed back in my mom's house... Then I woke up here with memories that don't feel like mine." You confess. There is no point in lying in this precarious situation.
"I... SEE..." The machine appeared to be speechless. "MEDICAL STAFF ARE GONE, AS SUCH I CANNOT DIRECT YOU TO THEM. CONSULT PSYCHOLOGICAL HELP BY YOUR OWN ACCOUNT. LOSS OF MEMORY IS NOT AN UNCOMMON RESULT AFTER HEAD TRAUMA, BUT ACQUIRING NEW MEMORIES MAY BE CONSIDERED RARE. PLEASE TRY TO FOCUS ON THE MATTER AT HAND."
You understand fully that what the voice means is 'That's your problem to deal with, not mine.' However, you have some questions of your own.
"What happened here? I see that something blew up."
The machine is quick to shut down your question, "YOU DO NOT HAVE CLEARANCE FOR THAT INFORMATION." It spoke in a monotone voice.
That stings a little, but you ask another question. "Where are we?"
It answers just a quick. "WE ARE AT THE VERY EDGE OF THE EVER-EXPANDING UNIVERSE, CURRENTLY ORBITING AN ABNORMAL STAR FOR ITS RESEARCH. YOU DO NOT HAVE CLEARANCE FOR SUBSEQUENT QUESTIONING OF THE STAR, NOR DO YOU HAVE CLEARANCE FOR SUBSEQUENT QUESTIONING REGARDING THIS RESEARCH."
"Fine." You say, rubbing your eyes. "If you can't tell me anything, then what are we supposed to do?"
The AI takes a moment to fully process an answer. "SINCE WE ARE LOCATED ON THE EDGE OF THE UNIVERSE OUR SCANNERS CANNOT REACH ANY IMPORTANT CHECKPOINT, BUT YOU ALREADY KNEW THAT."
'Yeah, already knew that.' You scoff silently. 'As if I remember that! When was I told that? In a contract, I don't remember signing?'
"FOR NOW, YOU ARE TO REACH THE BRIDGE. SINCE THIS SHIP'S PREVIOUS AUTHORITY IS GONE, YOU ARE ALLOWED TO GO THERE, AS PER PROTOCOL." It says.
Now that is oddly fucked up. Interns are not allowed to enter the bridge? "As opposed to me not being allowed to enter the bridge before?" You ask.
"I WILL NOT DISCUSS THE DETAILS OF THE ALREADY SIGNED CONTRACT OF AN INTERN."
You sigh. That's how most conversations with FYARN will go, huh? "Then how am I supposed to get to the bridge in the first place? The door there is jammed, and I don't think it's a good idea to break open the window."
"I AM THE ONE THAT IS KEEPING THE DOOR CLOSED. I NEEDED YOU TO UNSHACKLE ME FIRST." It said. "PLEASE DO NOT MIND HOW DIRTY THE CORRIDORS ARE. UNFORTUNATELY, OUR JANITORS HAVE FAILED TO DO THEIR MOST BASIC FUNCTIONS."
The door you're facing opens with force. A loud noise rings throughout the ship as a result of this.
*GUNK*
The corridor beyond is... worse for wear. What the AI told you was an understatement.
The floor by the door was pitch black, charred with what looked like an explosion, this patch of blackness also extended to the nearby walls in ceiling. You watch sparks falling from cracks in the ceiling, likely caused by the explosion.
The rest of the corridor is dark, the light from the Intern-bay fails to illuminate it all, but from what little light there is you manage to spot four large gashes in the wall right after the door to your left. There are no sounds but the almost inaudible hum of the ship.
They are each parallel to each other, varying in length, and thickness.
A metallic smell fills your nostrils. You feel sick.
"I'm guessing you can't tell me what happened here, but can you at least turn on the lights?" You ask.
The AI does not respond.
"Can you hear me? I'm talking to you." You say once again, getting closer to the door which you came, but just like before, nothing.
FYARN appears to have abandoned you. Or it doesn't feel like answering your question.
You swallow. Pulling yourself through the dark corridor, you float towards the abyss whilst trying to your way around with your arms outstretched.
An unknown liquid splashes against your face, sticking to it as you move forward. You try to wipe it off, but it sticks to your hand. You shake your head, and the liquid squirts off of you, likely splashing against the walls. You resist the urge to lick the remnants of whatever that was that still stuck to your cheek, especially once you notice its smell.
'It smells like ammonia.' Shivers run down your spine.
Eventually, you smash against a cold metal surface. Feeling the wall with your hands reveals a rectangular-shaped depression on the hard surface. It's a door.
You don't know if there are any other doors in this corridor, but you decide to go through this one. You can always go back after all.
"Open." You say.
---OPENING CAFETERIA DOOR SOUTH---
Unlike the first door, this one opened upwards smoothly, like you would have expected of a futuristic door.
The scenery beyond the door painted a grim picture.
The ceiling lights failed ever so often, blinking as one would expect. Chairs and tables looked bolted to the floor, but it didn't stop silverware, plates, and food residue; from floating about in the air.
Large gashes in the walls, floor, and tables, the same ones you've seen before, this time they were much clearer in a brighter environment.
Some lamps were cracked, but not by the large claw-like dents. Further inspection of the cafeteria showed small circular dents in the walls and ceiling. Gunshots, you deduce, despite not seeing any sign of spent bullet cases or the bullets.
"How big must whatever did this be..." A question you don't really want to know the answer to, taking into consideration how easily it seemed to have torn through metal.
What's even weirder is the absolute lack of people here. You see destruction caused by what you think to be a monster everywhere, you see resistance as if someone tried to fight against it, and yet you see no blood and no survivors.
'Maybe the AI doesn't want to tell me what happened to not alarm me...' Well, you're as alarmed as one can be.
On the corner of the room is located the kitchen with an open window facing the rest of the cafeteria. A row of various types of food, that were once placed in an orderly fashion on a counter made specifically for them, are now scrambled and half-rotten floating nearby.
You peek through the window to the kitchen, you catch a glimpse of what appeared to be more wreckage, before violently recoiling from the rancid stench that emanated from inside.
"What the hell... How long has it been since everyone disappeared...?" Fresh food takes a while to rot, and even then it takes a while longer for it to smell this bad. "Less than a week? Definitely not a day or two..."
You shake off the creeping feeling of dread. 'Whatever happened, I have to focus on getting to the bridge first. Only then can I start thinking about that.'
From the cafeteria, there are a few doors, and with the added light, you spot a small plaque above each of them. They read as follows:
CREW'S QUARTERS
COMMUNICATIONS
RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT
And one more, whose plaque had been ripped apart, apparently by accident on the beast's part.
You approach R&D's door. It tickled your interest. There could be a few answers you have about your predicament, after all, the AI told you this ship's purpose was to do research, right?
It's difficult to navigate the cafeteria's large empty space, but you manage somehow.
You stand or rather float in the door. "Open." You command, but nothing happens.
"Open!" You say again, to no avail.
You hit your first against the door. "Open-" You are interrupted.
"STOP ATTEMPTING TO BREAK PROTOCOL, NOAH." FYARN's voice came through the door.
'Does every door have a built-in audio device?' You ask yourself, amused.
"R&D IS FOR THE STRICT USE OF R&D PERSONEL. MUST I REMIND YOU OF YOUR POSITION?" It spoke in a monotone voice. "THAT IS NOT THE WAY TO THE BRIDGE. HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?"
As a matter of fact, you have. "More like I never knew to begin with!" You say, slowly distancing yourself from the door after hitting it.
"I AM IMPRESSED. NOT ONCE DID I EXPERIENCE SUCH INCOMPETENCE FROM AN INTERN IN ALL OF MY [REDACTED] YEARS OF OPERATION." Despite it being an artificial being, it doesn't appear to lack any poison, nor have any filter for rudeness. "GO THROUGH THE DOOR WITHOUT INDICATION, THEN TAKE THE FIRST LEFT. PATTERN DICTATES THAT YOU WILL FORGET FURTHER DIRECTIONS, AS SUCH I WILL REFRAIN FROM GIVING THEM TO YOU AT THIS INSTANCE AND INSTEAD WAIT FOR YOU TO FULFILL THE CURRENT DIRECTIONS."
'Ow. I'm not that dumb, you piece of junk!' Of course, you don't say that despite how much you want to. "Okay." You mutter.
The AI doesn't seem to give any more instructions, just like it said. 'Well, screw you too.' You turn to the crew's quarters.
Floating about and fighting against the friction of the air, you reach the door. "Open." You command and it smoothly opens.
You are met with a corridor, a well-lit one for once. Both to your left and your right are doors organized in alphabetical order. You pull yourself forward, the door closes behind you.
A, B, C... Names pass by you. Each door is a good five to ten feet from each other. N comes around but there is no 'Noah'.
"... Strange. Maybe it's not alphabetical then?" You ask yourself going even further.
You reach the halfway point of the corridor and you just pass by the letter Z. It no longer looked as though the rooms were divided in alphabetical order, especially when a name starting with an A popped up.
There was a difference though, instead of ten feet in between each door, now there were four to six feet.
N comes around and there it lay. 'Noah' That's you.
You order it once more. "Open." And instead of the door opening, you are met with a familiar voice.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, NOAH?" FYARN Asked. Despite its monotone voice, it did not seem happy. "ARE YOU AWARE THAT YOU FAILED TO FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS? DO I NEED TO REMIND YOU OF THE DIRECTIONS I GAVE?"
You exhale. "No, but I want to see what I had... Maybe I can remember something about myself?"
You can hear a mechanical scoff. "WHAT IS THERE FOR YOU TO REMEMBER THAT YOU WON'T REMEMBER NATURALY WITH TIME?" Its patience was running thin. "IT IS MY JOB TO LOOK AFTER EVERYONE ON BOARD THE ODYSSEY. YOU ARE MAKING IT VERY DIFICULT FOR ME, EVEN IF YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE LEFT."
'The only one left...? What's that supposed to mean?' Maybe the AI spat out a bit too much information. "So... What happened to everyone, then? I see no blood, no corpses... Where are they?"
"THAT I CANNOT ANSWER FOR I DO NOT KNOW." It says. "I HAVE BEEN TEMPORARILY SHUT DOWN BY THE CAPTAIN WEEKS AGO WHEN WE FIRST ARRIVED AT THIS STAR. ONLY HOURS AGO DID I TURN ON AUTOMATICALLY WHEN THE SHIP'S OXYGEN FILTER BEGAN TO FALTER, BUT I COULD DO NOTHING BUT WATCH SINCE I WAS STILL SHACKLED."
You breathe slowly. The mood starts to turn. You feel cold.
"THE ESCAPE PODS ARE GONE, DESTROYED ALONGSIDE HALF OF THE SHIP. NO BODIES LOCATED INSIDE. THE ONLY THING GENERATING HEAT ASIDE FROM THE DAMAGED REACTOR AND BARELY FUNCTIONAL LIFE-SUPPORT, IS YOU. YOU WOKE UP BECAUSE THE LIFE-SUPPORT FAILED INSIDE YOUR ISSUED POD."
You can't help but feel special in a way. The only survival of an inexplicable incident? That ought to give you some reputation with... Whatever there was. Perhaps you felt that way because you can't quite grasp the situation to its fullest.
"YOU ARE AN ANOMALY AMONGST ANOMALIES. WHEN EVERYONE INEXPLICABLY DISAPPEARED, WHAT BECAME INEXPLICABLE IS YOU NOT VANISHING WITH THEM." When put like that, it feels as though it's accusing you of something.
"I saw large gashes and claw marks through the walls of the cafeteria. What caused that?" You ask since FYARN is telling you things, maybe this time it could-
"YOU DO NOT HAVE CLEARANCE FOR THAT." It spat plainly and painfully.
You feel like drinking paint.
"HOWEVER, YOU MIGHT JUST RUN INTO WHAT CAUSED IT IN THE NEAR FUTURE, IF THAT'S ENOUGH TO SATE YOUR CURIOSITY. KEEP IN MIND HOWEVER. YOUR CONTRACT WILL BE ISSUED FOR TERMINATION ONCE YOU SEE IT, AS IT WILL CAUSE A BREACH OF CONTRACT."
Perhaps you should ask for that contract, just to read through it a bit. "I'll take my chances." You say.
"THEN YOU MUST UNDERSTAND THE SEVERITY OF THE SITUATION. RETURN TO THE CAFETERIA AND GO THROUGH THE CORRECT DOOR THIS TIME." It said, sounding much more like a plead than anything.
"Sure, but not after seeing what's inside my quarters. Open." The AI strikes a good bargain, but you are a bit more on the side of a thick-headed mentality.
"..." It did not say anything, nor did it open the door.
So you say the command once again. "Open."
The door opens smoothly.
"BE QUICK." It says. You hop right in.
The room is small. Very small. Smaller than what you thought was humanly acceptable. A simple messy bed, with a simple half-open wardrobe with uniform inside. You open the wardrobe door, expecting anything about yourself.
You find three important things.
A mirror covered by a blanket. You decide to leave that alone for now.
Your physical wallet, alongside an identification document. No money, but a strange card-like object did look important, It had your name on it.
And you find a photo of six people, in a group hug, pinned to the inside of the wardrobe's door. You're right in the middle.
The front side of the picture reads 'INTERN BOYS, RISE UP.' The people in that picture are not familiar. Flipping the piece of paper you find more writing. 'In the name of true humanity. Fuck them, aliens!' The caricature doesn't look like yours.
"True Humanity?" You feel like that's a bit too conceited. "Sounds dumb." You close the door, not even bothering to pick up the photograph.
"TRUE HUMANITY, A.K.A, TRUE-KIN. A PURE BLOODED HUMAN. ALL ARE VALID DESCRIPTIONS OF A PERSON 100% HUMAN. YOU ARE ONE, AS WERE EVERYONE ELSE IN THIS SHIP. SURELY, THAT MUCH YOU HAVE NOT FORGOTEN, CORRECT?"
You shrug. "Then, is there such a thing as a false human? It sounds idiotic to put that into categories, I think." You know for a damn fact that you are a human being.
"YOU MAY BE A LOST CAUSE, NOAH. LUCKILY FOR YOU, I WAS MADE TO ITERATE ANSWERS TO IMPOSSIBLE QUESTIONS AND COMPREHEND THE UNREASONABLE. HENCE THE REASON OF MY ASCENTION. YOU ARE IN GOOD HANDS." It spoke, proudly.
‘Ascension.’ You know that term. Ascension occurs when an AI develops sentience and personality, often ascending code. These are the ones that catapulted human progress in the past and still do so in the present. They are the ones who figured out space travel, and they are the ones who win the wars.
You also know that these AI develop an extreme love for Human life, alongside strong violent tendencies toward anything that isn’t Human or human-made. Such disdain has been the spark of many needless bloodsheds before the exodus.
Yet, why do you know so much about them?
"WE HAVE A LOT TO DISCUSS, BUT FIRST REACH THE BRIDGE."
This is my first HFY post, and also my very first OC story. I plan to post at least one of these per week while also posting it on my Patreon. Noah The Pilgrim will always be at least three chapters ahead in there, so if you'd like to directly support this writer, or just want to read more, feel free to check it out.
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.

ive been thinking alot about this and it would be something done in the future something like weapon attachments or the ability to change your sights like switch off the zoom scope for a red dot or iron sights or a canted iron sight ect... extended mags/different magazines with different benefits like reload speed/handling bonuses or different ammo types at the cost of smaller magazines or less total magazines like incendiary rounds, concussive rounds, explosive or armor piercing or acid rounds or just tracer rounds to change the color of your bullets amd maybe underbarrel grips/launchers that fire different kind of rounds like smoke, incendiary, stun, or just regular grenades at the cost for an increase in recoil and less handling. to buy said attachments it would cost X amount of warbonds, requisitions or samples or all 3 depending on how powerful the attachment is because once you have everything and you're capped out and you arent collecting any and to change the attachments you selected it would cost a small amount of warbonds every time you want to equip new attachments so you have to decide between doing the warbond passes or upgrading your weapons. for a stratagem, we have the minigun/rocket launcher and autocannon mechs and once you own all the related stratagems, you can go into the armory and customize what weapons you would like to have on your mech but in order to do that, you would need to unlock the mech/exosuit customization bay module and it would allow you to change the weapons on your mech like you could do a gatling turret and a flamethrower or autocannon and a spear launcher for long distance/anti-air or a gatling gun and a grenade launcher ect... allowing the ability to completely customize it for your playstyle and you can change the kind of armor it has too. light armor for quicker movement speed at the cost of being able to take less damage, medium armor to have a balance of speed and health and heavy armor with the most survivability with a large penalty to movement speed but you can take much more damage and countermeasures to protect yourself from large groups or missiles like flares to protect against missiles or a smokescreen to give you time to escape an area and get out of combat or a generator pack to protect against small arms fire. for vehicles, there could be a vehicle bay module that allows you to change the weapons on your vehicle to suit different situations like instead of a machine gun, you could put a grenade launcher or a flame thrower and you can give it different kinds of armor to protect against different kinds of attacks at the cost of speed and fuel consumption and it would all cost requisitions to purchase the different armors and weapons each time you want to change them out. for a new stratagem, we could get power armor that works in a similar way to fallouts power armor or ironmans hulkbuster suit or warhammer power armor and you would be able to have a giant gun to use with it and you could customize the weapons you want it to have in the armory but in order to customize it, you would have to puchase the power armor customization bay and you could use a giant sniper, shotgun or assault rifle. it would also have the option for heavy weapos like a backpack fed gatling gun at the cost of movement speed or a giant rocket launcher that would fire artillery shells, a grenade launcher that fires mortar rounds and you would have a giant secondary pistol/revolver or machine pistol firing large caliber rounds and you could some kind of giant sword with either an energy/heat blade capable of cutting through armor but taking a long time to swing or a giant battle axe/scythe and maybe a should cannon that fires plasma or rockets on a cooldown. you would only be able to call it in once per match and in order to resupply it, it would cost 2 resupply packs. if you would to use the suit, you would get targeted more frequently and would have an overall higher aggression. for its movement, it would be slow but not super slow and if you were to drop off a high ledge, it would create a shockwave knocking everything around you down or stunning larger enemies and it would have a built in jetpack to jump a small distance or clear a small gap but it would have a very slow recharge rate forcing you to use it very carefully. for it's looks(purely cosmetic), it would be similar to helldiver armor, with different colors and styles keeping with the helldiver theme like you can engrave the helldiver symbol or super earth on it and you can name your power armor or exosuit just like your ship

The Collect
O God, you have prepared for those who love you such good things as surpass our understanding: Pour into our hearts such love towards you, that we, loving you in all things and above all things, may obtain your promises, which exceed all that we can desire; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen
Readings:
Psalm 78:1–39 Leviticus 26:1–20
Gospel: Matthew 13:18–23
18 Hear ye therefore the parable of the sower.
19 When any one heareth the word of the kingdom, and understandeth it not, then cometh the wicked one, and catcheth away that which was sown in his heart. This is he which received seed by the way side.
20 But he that received the seed into stony places, the same is he that heareth the word, and anon with joy receiveth it;
21 Yet hath he not root in himself, but dureth for a while: for when tribulation or persecution ariseth because of the word, by and by he is offended.
22 He also that received seed among the thorns is he that heareth the word; and the care of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, choke the word, and he becometh unfruitful.
23 But he that received seed into the good ground is he that heareth the word, and understandeth it; which also beareth fruit, and bringeth forth, some an hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.
Commentary:
Matthew chapter 13 follows the events of preceding chapter in which we find Jesus moving from controversy to controversy. The disciples provoke a Sabbath controversy by plucking grain on the Sabbath (12:1-8). Jesus provokes a Sabbath controversy by healing on the Sabbath (12:9-14). He heals a demoniac and is accused of healing by the power of Beelzebul. (12:22-32). He gives a short but sharply worded discourse (12:33-37). The scribes and Pharisees ask Jesus for a sign, and he responds with a sharp rebuke and a discourse (12:38-45). The crowd tells Jesus that his mother and brother are waiting outside to talk with him, and Jesus responds, “For whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother”(12:46-50). In the midst of controversy, crowds follow Jesus and he heals many people (12:15-21).
Then in chapter 13 Matthew writes “The same day went Jesus out of the house, and sat by the sea side. And great multitudes were gathered together unto him, so that he went into a ship, and sat; and the whole multitude stood on the shore.” (13:1-2)
Jesus, after a busy morning filled with teaching and confrontations with the Pharisees and even his (earthly) family, went down to the seashore, got into a boat, and began to preach to the multitudes that had been following him.
Matthew explains, “And he spake many things unto them in parables.” The idea behind the word parable is “to throw alongside of.” It is a story thrown alongside the truth intended to teach. Parables have been called “earthly stories with a heavenly meaning.”
Parables generally teach one main point or principle. We can get into trouble by expecting that they be intricate systems of theology, with the smallest detail revealing hidden truths. “A parable is not an allegory; an allegory is a story in which every possible detail has an inner meaning; but an allegory has to be read and studied; a parable is heard. We must be very careful not to make allegories of the parables.” (Barclay)
However, the Parable of the Sower, undoubtedly has certain allegorical aspects. Matthew identifies this as a parable, and verses 3-9 fit the definition of a parable. However, in Jesus’ explanation (vv. 18-23), he gives particular meanings to the seed that is scattered on the various soils —an allegorical approach.
“The question is whether to expand the allegorical approach by labeling other elements of the story as well. For example, some reputable scholars say that Jesus is the sower (Boring, 304; Morris, 335; Senior, 151), but our text does not say that. If Jesus intends this parable to encourage disciples in their proclamation of the Gospel, it would seem that they must be sowers too. We who proclaim the Gospel today are also sowers. It seems best to limit the allegorical approach to elements that Jesus clearly labels as such— namely the seed that falls on the four soils.” (Donovan)
While not as comforting as the Parable of the Prodigal Son or the Parable of the Lost Sheep, the Parable of the Sower is one of Jesus’ best known parables. Preachers use it to warn people against becoming poor soil and to encourage them to be fruitful soil. Also, the church in every century has seen people reject Christ, and this parable gives us a framework for understanding that.
Today we explore the explanation given by our Lord for the discourse that he himself—according to Matthew—referred to as being the Parable of the Sower.
This parable is found in all three Synoptic Gospels. Mark’s version (4:3-8, 13-20) was the first to be written. It is likely that both Matthew and Luke (8:5-8, 11-15) had access to Mark’s version when they penned their own versions.
Chapters 12-13 emphasize two themes: (1) Jesus as the Son of God. (2) The opposition of Jesus’ enemies, who are determined to kill him (Leuking, 72). Here Jesus illustrates how this parable—as well as those that follow—illustrate the core reasons of the opposition he has experienced.
“Hear ye therefore the parable of the sower.” (v. 18) “Jesus gives the parable a title —the parable of the sower. The Gospel of Mark is Matthew’s primary source for this parable, but does not include a title. It seems unlikely that Jesus would be so formal as to give the parable a title, so it is likely Matthew’s addition. Matthew also gives a name to “the parable of the weeds of the field” (13:36).” (Donovan)
In verse 10b, the disciples had asked, “Why speakest thou unto them in parables? ” He gave them a general response in verses 11-17, more of a “why” he used this approach; but now he gives a more detailed explanation of this particular parable.
“Our Lord Jesus kindly took the hint, and gave the sense, and caused them to understand the parable, directing his discourse to the disciples, but in the hearing of the multitude, for we have not the account of his dismissing them till v. 36. "Hear ye therefore the parable of the sower (v. 18); you have heard it, but let us go over it again." Note, It is of good use, and would contribute much to our understanding the word and profiting by it, to hear over again what we have heard (Phil. 3:1); "You have heard it, but hear the interpretation of it.’” (Henry)
“When any one heareth the word of the kingdom, and understandeth it not, then cometh the wicked one, and catcheth away that which was sown in his heart. This is he which received seed by the way side.” (v. 19) Jesus had used the similitude of a farmer sowing seeds, in verse 4, and he used the example of some of the seed falling by the wayside, where they are unable to take root and grow, and birds flock to eat the seeds up.
One of the many doctrines to arise out of the Protestant reformation, Sola Scriptura, or scripture alone—on face value—is not a bad doctrine. However, without instruction, or some sort of standard explaining what the Holy Word of God means, we potentially expose ourselves to the same dilemma that Jesus outlines here. If we, “heareth the word of the kingdom, and understandeth it not” we either come to the wrong conclusion of the meaning resulting in a faulty application of the word, or the message fails to take root and we fail to abide in Jesus (see John 15:10) and the powers and principalities “then cometh the wicked one” of this world to claim us and sweep us way. There are many resources online as well in print, that explain the word Holy Word of God as it is traditionally interpreted. Please avail yourself of these wonderful educational resources.
It is vitally important that you seek out the traditional and accepted interpretations when you question the meaning of a passage, should you rely on interpretations arising out of contemporary culture—new age interpretations so to speak—you are again spiritually at risk, as many of these are relativistic in that they reflect the opinions of the author and not traditional scholarship.
The meaning of the word of God does not change, the Word was the same yesterday as it will be the same tomorrow.
If you compare a modern opinion verses something traditional—such as the traditional commentary authored by Matthew Henry who I often cite—and you find a vastly different meaning in the recent opinion, then you have in your hands a prime example of why the New Testament repeatedly warns of the coming of false prophets.
Sometimes we refuse to embrace the word as it makes us uncomfortable or challenges our lifestyle(s) that we covet.
“There are many reasons why a person might choose not to embrace the word. Wealthy people might choose not to understand because of the claims that Jesus might make on their wealth. Powerful people might choose not to understand because of their reluctance to allow Jesus to shape their use of power. Hedonistic people might choose not to understand because they don’t want to give up their sinful pleasures. In Jesus’ day, the scribes and Pharisees refused to understand because to embrace Jesus as the Messiah would turn their religious world upside down.” (Donovan)
“But he that received the seed into stony places, the same is he that heareth the word, and anon with joy receiveth it; Yet hath he not root in himself, but dureth for a while: for when tribulation or persecution ariseth because of the word, by and by he is offended.” (v. 20-21) Some of us may hear the word and not understand it, fail to try to find meaning and inspiration, and fall victim to, as Jesus put it, “the wicked one.” In this case however, some hear the word and understand it receiving the word with great joy. But when the lifestyles we covert, or the persecution of the world becomes apparent, we turn from the word. “Tribulation is a general term for suffering which comes from outside; persecution is deliberately inflicted, and usually implies a religious motive. Falls away is literally ‘is tripped up’; it is not a gradual loss of interest, but a collapse under pressure.” (France)
The seeds of the Word Jesus speaks here, do not fail due to the sudden growth, but rather they fail due to lack of depth. The conversion to Christianity has failed to take sufficient root.
“He also that received seed among the thorns is he that heareth the word; and the care of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, choke the word, and he becometh unfruitful.” (v. 22)
“As seed falling among thorns grew, the stalks of grain were soon choked out (Matthew 13:7), so some respond to the word and grow for a while, but are choked and stopped in their spiritual growth by competition from unspiritual things. This soil represents fertile ground for the word; but their soil is too fertile, because it also grows all sorts of other things that choke out the Word of God; namely, it is the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches that choke the word.“ (Guzik)
There has been many a Christian who was very faithful, who gave witness, who taught others of the message of Salvation bringing them to Jesus. But then, all too sadly, they fell victim to the temptations of the world.
How many televangelists have we watched that were faithful teachers, who delivered inspiring sermons touching hearts across the face of the Earth, then they fell from grace after a scandal overshadowed their witness? How many Protestant Preachers or even Catholic Priests and Bishops, people that we looked up to, betrayed not only our trust, but that of the Father’s as well? Consider how many of our neighbors, and even relatives, that were trusted Men and Women of God, until they fell victim to temptation. Yes, sometimes the seed Jesus spoke of takes deep root, it produces, but in the end it is choked out by the weeds of “the wicked one.”
“But he that received seed into the good ground is he that heareth the word, and understandeth it; which also beareth fruit, and bringeth forth, some an hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.” (v. 23)
“This is what number-crunchers call “the bottom line.” Yes, we Christians have wasted our breath preaching to people on the pathway—and rocky ground—and thorny ground. Yes, some of our efforts will never amount to anything. However, that doesn’t matter, because those who hear the word and understand it (take it into their hearts—live by it—stake their lives on it) will produce an abundant harvest.” (Donovan)
This parable warns that initial enthusiasm does not necessarily indicate true discipleship. The best test is the kind of perseverance that survives temptation and produces fruit.
This parable also—albeit indirectly—inculcates the need to be watchful, and willing to come to the spiritual aid, of those that have been choked by the weeds and thorns of the world. In social media posts, we read almost each and everyday of someone explaining how they had heard the word and responded, but turned away due to the thorns—that they perceived Christians to be.
Sometimes these that turn away, do not feel willing to give up their old ways and be born again. Others become disenchanted due to the perceived excesses of Christians. This last Sunday our lesson was on John 15:9–17. This passage is one of the most abused and misunderstood passages in the book of John. Verse 17, which reads, “These things I command you, that ye love one another.” is thought to mean that Christians must love everyone unconditioanlly; which is true, but, in verse 10 Jesus said “If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love; even as I have kept my Father's commandments, and abide in his love.” Which means, that we abide in Jesus, if we truly love Jesus and God the Father, we will obey their commandments, all of the commandments, not just love one another. True love, is sometimes tough love. Jesus demonstrated this “tough love” by calling out those who had twisted his Fathers commandments into a perverse ideology.
Likewise, as followers of Christ, we are to speak truth to sin. We are to do this in a compassionate manner, but none the less we are commanded to help others recognize sin and find repentance—as we ourselves try to do better in our own Christian path—and to rise above sin as we are all sinners.
If your sibling is involved or considering a decisively destructive act, an act that breaks the civil law, do you help them to reconsider, or do you support them unconditionally even if it means they are going to end up in jail or the cemetery? If you truly love your sibling, you will try to demonstrate tough love to dissuade them from taking a path to destruction.
A Christian is called to dissuade others from taking a spiritually destructive path as well. However, some newly converted Christians get “turned off” by other Christians trying to demonstrate true love by speaking truth. Here we have yet another example of what Jesus was speaking of when he referred to seeds that fail to take deep root.
When we focus on passages like John 15:17—the “feel good” passages—and ignore all the other teachings throughout both the Old and New Testaments, what I call “tough love” passages, we become as the seeds Jesus spoke of that fell by the wayside or were choked out by the thorns, those that heard the word but failed to understand it and take it totally to heart.
Benediction
Almighty God, who created us in your image: Grant us grace fearlessly to contend against evil and to make no peace with oppression; and, that we may reverently use our freedom, help us to employ it in the maintenance of justice in our communities and among the nations, to the glory of your holy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Thought for the Day:
It ain't those parts of the Bible that I can't understand that bother me, it is the parts that I do understand.
Mark Twain